#and ive had a weird feeling in my throat this evening and it’s probably nothing

[cielospeaks]

aime tachi plot: everything has to make sense, there are rules for the story even tho its self indulgent, yadda yadda, character development, progression consistency

dreamdom hearts plot: anyways the dream works au versions of fe characters and my oc recruit enjoyable single dw villains to go have slightly creepypasta shenanigans with a presumably dead oc

[monsterhugger]

ik it's not the new year yet but 2023 is the year i learn to touch type

[1d1195]

Most IV

Read Most here | ~ 5.9k words

From me: I wanted this part to be longer but I think you'll like the next part the most.

Warnings: not really anything special about this part. You are going to hear from Lauren again though, lol

Summary: Harry is desperately trying not to scare her away. She is wondering if this was a terrible idea.

The boys were in the living room putting together a bookshelf and a coffee table that she had to buy since the ones in her apartment at school belonged to Addie. It still left no room for anyone to sit but true to their word, they didn’t need it. They sat around chatting and catching up. Making each other laugh. Harry sat beside her and she could feel his gaze on her every time she shifted. Like she was going to disappear.

When all the pizza was gone, the girls had brought empty boxes to the kitchen but again, she didn’t even have a trash can to throw stuff away. “I don’t think I can live three weeks without some stuff,” she admitted wrinkling her nose. The package of water bottles that the boys picked up with the new pizza was already significantly depleted and the empty bottles they had all drank were lining her counter. The boys were going to need trash bags to put the empty boxes and pieces of Styrofoam somewhere too.

She also thought about how she had packed most of her clothing away in the storage pod as well. Underwear was definitely a necessity.

“A good old fashioned shopping trip would do us some good!” Eleanor proclaimed seeing her friend’s frustration grow. Immediately she ushered her towards the door. She glanced back as she grabbed her purse off the counter just in time to see Harry’s head perk up as he looked at her.

It killed her to see the anxiety on Harry’s face as if she was going to disappear again when she walked out that door. She didn’t just ruin the trust between them, she murdered it. “Um...” she swallowed digging in her purse and gently moving away from Eleanor’s hand. “I don’t have any room in my car anyway,” she shrugged and placed her set of keys on the counter. A quiet assurance she would be back. The relief on Harry’s face was almost as painful to see as his anxiety. Both of those sad emotions on his gorgeous face were entirely her fault. “Do you mind driving, Sarah?”

“Of course not,” she shook her head. “El, can you help me move some stuff in the car so there’s room for three of us?”

She figured there was nothing in her car that required two people to move it. But the girls headed out while Mitch and Louis focused intently on the shelf. Niall nudged Harry silently reading the next set of directions on installing the lifting mechanism for the coffee table. Harry got up from the floor and approached her the way a person would approach a deer in the middle of a hike. Terrified that the poor thing would skitter away at the slightest movement. Their friends were still in earshot, and it seemed weird to have a private goodbye when they were only running to get her some necessities. “I’ll be back,” it felt horrible to reassure him of such a fact.

He nodded and forced a smile that tensed on his face a hair too much. It didn’t reach his eyes. Her stomach was in knots at the sight; she felt so horrible. “Do you need anything?” She asked.

He shook his head. “M’good, kitten. Thank you.”

Her heart continued to flutter at the word kitten. Like he didn’t know what else to call her. “Thank you for helping, I’m sure you’re exhausted after your shift, and you probably want to get home or something—”

“No,” he cut her off. “M’happy t’help and be here,” he looked at her like she was the only thing that mattered. It broke her heart all over again that she betrayed his trust. How was she going to make this right?

“Well, thank you,” she repeated graciously. “Really.”

He glanced back at the living room and the boys and then silently, quietly, pushed her into the hallway. With the door closed, he cleared his throat and rubbed his hands on his thighs. “I don’t know how t’say this because I don’t know what the rules are. I don’t know what we’re supposed t’do or feel but I jus’ know m’really jealous of the hugs everyone else got and I know I got t’hold your hand and chat with you for a while on m’own... and I know it’s silly m’so jealous of a hug m’friends—who probably missed you in some ways jus’ as much as I did—but m’incredibly jealous and I jus—”

Her arms were around his neck. Her chest against his, even though there were two layers of clothes between them, she swore she could feel his heartbeat. They fit like puzzle pieces. Because of course they did. If it wasn’t for their words, she wasn’t sure she would know they were ever apart at all. Harry’s arms wound around her waist; he sighed so content. Buried his nose in her hair and breathing quietly beside her ear. He was holding her so close; like she might wriggle out of his arms at any moment. Being this close made her stomach flip. It felt new and familiar at the same time. His body felt so warm and strong but very much the same arms and embrace she was used to from years ago. Her face tucked into the curve of his neck; where his cologne gathered and smelled so intoxicatingly of him, she could have cried. His muscles were more defined, but he was still her Harry.

Except he wasn’t, actually. It reminded her of the final scene of a tragic romance movie where the couple should have been acknowledging how they felt about one another all along. But instead, they moved on.

So, her brain turned on again and slowly, begrudgingly, she pulled away. Slow enough that when she was able to view his face, he was looking at her like she wasn’t going to disappear again. A layer of trust had returned for which she was so grateful it ached like nothing she had felt before in the pit of her stomach. “Don’t want to keep the girls waiting too long,” she whispered.

“Yeah,” he nodded and put his hand on her doorknob. “We’ll try not t’trash the place,” he smiled, that dimple making her weak all over. She didn’t even want to go shopping. Not without Harry attached to her hip. But he wasn’t hers anymore and it was her own fault.

So she quietly laughed at his joke and turned to the elevator after her friends.

*

Did you know you owned everything?

I was JUST thinking the same thing about you. Carter had nothing useful either. We’ve been shopping for HOURS.

She smiled at her phone while Eleanor and Sarah pushed the cart and walked through the store like they were the ones moving into a new place. Her phone rang and she was quick to pick it up. “Did you see him?” Addie asked excitedly. “Was he overwhelmed? Did he cry? Did he kiss you immediately?”

She sighed, blushing, grateful her friends were distracted so they didn’t see nor hear Addie nearly shouting her questions. “Yes, probably, no, no.”

Addie blew out an annoyed breath. “Well, what are you waiting for?”

“Addie,” she groaned with frustration and Eleanor glanced back briefly to see her on the phone. She smiled and then turned her attention back on the array of dishware. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know what? If you remember how to kiss?”

“Jesus. Christ.”

“I’m sorry about your storage pod,” Addie tried instead. “I bet you miss your notebooks.”

There was a pang of anxiety about the fate of her notebooks on a trip across the country that she couldn’t control. If something happened to them, it might make her insane. She really should have at least scanned them onto the cloud. At least she would have something to do when she got them back before the semester started and she was alone in her apartment with her thoughts. “It’s alright,” but it reminded her to snag a notebook from the office supplies aisle as they walked by. She tossed it over the side of the cart. “Once it’s here and I’m settled, I hope you’ll come for a visit. I’m going to have this super comfy air mattress you can sleep on since my bed isn’t here either.”

Addie laughed. “Excellent.”

“I miss you,” she admitted.

“Miss you too. But this is good. Because you won’t get rid of me. I’m so proud you jumped.” Her cheeks flushed.

“Thank you.”

“Talk to you later.”

“Bye.”  

With her phone back in her pocket she glanced at the items in the car that Eleanor and Sarah had selected. They had similar tastes throughout their lives, so she wasn’t worried about the aspect of overall décor and color; but her budget was a bit depleted without a job lined up and dipping into her savings this much was a little worrisome. “We’ve missed you,” Sarah said softly interrupting her thoughts before they spiraled too far. “Think you balanced out the lot of us.”

“I’m freaking out,” she admitted.

They both stopped their leisurely strolling and looked at her nervously. Because terrifyingly enough, she didn’t look like she was freaking out. So the internal side of things must have been bad and they probably had about as much fear as Harry that she might just leave again without warning. She hated that she did this and part of her thought leaving again might be best. Because why would they trust her? After all that. She left without explanation. “Why?” Eleanor asked.

Her voice broke and she sniffled. “He’s going to hate me,” she whispered.

“Oh, for the love of God,” Sarah rolled her eyes and pushed the cart forward not even bothering to entertain her worries. It wasn’t mean and part of her was glad Sarah wasn’t treating her like she was made of glass—she was treating her the way she always had. As if she had never left.

Eleanor smiled sweetly, put a hand on her back and ushered her after Sarah. “Harry will never hate you,” she promised. The relief she felt released a burst of dopamine and made the anxiety she felt disappear almost instantly.

“I hate me,” she grumbled. Eleanor laughed and squeezed her hip.

“We’re so happy you’re back. I don’t know if you heard everything, but Harry wasn’t himself without you,” she explained.

Her cheeks warmed and she swallowed thickly. “It made sense in my head,” she whispered. “I swear.”

Eleanor looked at her sympathetically, a smile that was warm but full of empathy filled her pretty face and she was overcome with how much she missed her friends. If it wasn’t for Addie, there was a good chance she wouldn’t have survived the last three years. “I know. I know you wouldn’t do that without thinking it through,” Eleanor nodded encouragingly. “I just wish you had told us what you were feeling.”

“Yeah, how did you stay off social media like that? I could use a lesson, honestly. All I do is scroll,” Sarah called from in front of them putting a toilet bowl brush into her growing cart.

She was grateful for the kindness her friends shared. “Thank you,” she smiled at Eleanor and then turned to Sarah. “Both of you.”

The pair of them smiled back. “Anything for you, babe,” Sarah assured her.

*

They returned with the items needed and the boys were waiting, ready to take more bags and boxes than she thought the girls could fit in Sarah’s car with the three of them already inside it. They were like an assembly line of grabbing items and bringing them to her apartment. When everyone else was ahead of her, she grabbed the air mattress box. It was heavy and large enough to make it awkward to carry and Harry frowned watching her struggle to lock her car as she tried to balance it on her hip. All while he carried nothing more than a box of pots and pans that weighed probably a fraction as much.

“Swap with me,” he ordered and placed it on the trunk of Sarah’s car.

“Oh... no, it’s alright. It’s heavy and you’ve already worked and—”

He ignored her, pulling it from her grip as she protested, and he marched toward her building. With a sigh, she grabbed the pots and pans, feeling useless and needy again. The elevator signaled the rest were already on their trip up leaving Harry and her in wait for it to descend again. They stood in silence holding their boxes while waiting patiently. “Thank you,” she said again. It felt like a constant in her mouth as the afternoon progressed. “I can’t imagine how tired you must be.”

“M’fine,” he smiled. “Happy t’see you in exchange of m’nap. Also, would’ve gone home t’Mrs. Peterson asking me t’fix her closet door or check her dryer vent.”

She laughed and Harry thought he won the lottery or was struck by lightning. It was the most beautiful sound in the world, and he felt lucky to hear it. The elevator doors opened, and they reverted back to quiet. Her phone vibrated in her pocket; it was a message from Carter.

Addie misses you so much. I don’t think I’ll ever be as good a roommate as you.

“A friend from school?” Harry asked, unable to keep his interest in who messaged her to himself. Harry never saw himself as jealous. But he never had three years of time without her—a whole college career without him by her side. He didn’t know if she had a relationship and quite frankly she was terrified to ask.

“Yeah, umm... his name’s Carter.”

She was replying to his message reminding him where she kept the emergency chocolate for when Addie spiraled. So at first, she didn’t see the way Harry’s jaw flexed so hard she thought he could have cut the sudden tension in the elevator better than the sharpest knife in the world ever could have. His eyes stared straight ahead as the elevator ascended. Her cheeks heated in the small space, feeling mortified that she made Harry feel jealous. God she couldn’t even come home without making him feel bad.

“I met him at my roommate’s dance recital. You would love him,” she whispered because it was the truth. “He started chatting with me all by myself. He calls me gorgeous when he greets me. But the day I met him, I didn’t want to talk. But he was insistent. It’s why I think you’d like him. He inspired a little thing I wrote, I’ll have to let you read it sometime. But anyway... I showed him a picture of my roommate—Addie—and he fell in love with her. Like right there. In the auditorium right as the curtain was opening for her recital. Just her picture, Harry. It was like when Allie saw the picture of Noah in the newspaper in The Notebook. I watched him fall in love with her. I watched it happen,” she smiled at the memory. “He also calls me my favorite matchmaker. He helped us move three times to two different apartments and he never lets me carry heavy grocery bags even though I’m not his girlfriend,” she explained emphasizing that she was not dating Carter. “And he really liked my writing—thinks I’m going to be an instant cult-classic writer. And he was really excited that I decided to come home—even though Addie is being mean to him now, I guess.”

The little story eased the tension in his jaw. She watched it disappear slowly and she wondered if he was going to develop a TMJ dysfunction from how clenched it was for the last few moments. The elevator stopped and he gestured for her to exit first. Before they opened the door where she could hear the rustling of paper bags and the tearing of boxes.

“Where’s the scissors!?” Louis shouted.

“I told you we needed to buy two,” Sarah said grumpily.

“I didn’t know Niall was going to lose them in the first twenty seconds of opening them!” Eleanor protested.

She turned to face Harry, each had a box in front of them, like armor to protect their hearts, whether they knew it or not. She thought about writing that down as soon as she found her new notebook and a pen. The sadness she felt for making him feel jealous still lingered in her. All of the bad choices she made (even though she loved Addie and Carter and wouldn’t have met them without leaving) made her feel terrible on Harry’s behalf. “I’m so sorry, Harry,” she whispered, shame creeping through her body. Without another word, she turned inside before she could say anything else.

Harry stood in front of the open door, noise and chaos ensuing just five feet from him, he worried she was going to get a noise complaint because of the lot of them. He entered the apartment after a few more seconds of silence on his part and even though the apartment wasn’t all that big, he found her instinctively, dropping the box he held onto the counter. He grabbed her wrist like he had a thousand times before, it made her heart flip and flutter like an acrobat in the circus. Without a care of his friends shouting and creating more commotion he leaned in close, so his lips were so close to her ear, she almost closed her eyes to savor the feel of the moment. It wasn’t even that intimate, but it felt like it was.

“I would like t’take you out t’dinner, kitten,” his voice was low and almost gravelly. It warmed her skin and body like nothing she had ever felt before—except she had. Because he always made her feel like this. Ever since they were young, and she knew they were soulmates—even if he didn’t believe in them.

Silently she nodded, meeting his gaze again and smiling. His soft, answering smile was so beautiful she wanted to scream. Thank God she was home.

She excused herself to her bedroom after that, closed the door, where she slid the notebook from one of the bags, found a pen in her purse and drew a heart on the inside cover, listed two names inside it as she always did.

On the first page she scribbled down some notes about how home wasn’t a place, a town, or a building at all.

It was green eyes and a kind smile that made her feel whole.

*

They hadn’t made it to dinner yet. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. Her moving in, especially without all her stuff, took a tremendous effort and amount of time. It took a ton of phone calls to stay on top of it and make sure it didn’t get lost along the way because its destination wasn’t meant for a cross-country road trip or any of the stops along the way back to her. In addition to that, she found a job at one of their local restaurants—Niall was happy to call in a favor to the owner who knew his mum so well, so she began working so much. Mainly because she worried about her savings being dipped into because of the move and missing items.

She also had to visit her own mum now that she was closer to her again. Meanwhile, Harry was still on the schedule to work overtime and all his regular hours as well—at least through the cycle of the schedule he was currently on.

So, two and a half weeks had passed since she moved back. Other than the first day they helped move her in, there had only been a handful of sightings. A few of them visited her while she worked, happy to report back to Harry (even though he insisted it was unnecessary but was nonetheless grateful for their intrusion) she was still in town. When he drove past her apartment building (because he was creepy now and scared beyond belief she would be gone in the middle of the night) and saw her storage pod with her mum’s furniture had been removed he felt a ripple of anxiety course through him. It was only alleviated when he saw her car still parked in the same spot that he relaxed. Their group of friends invited her to their weekly summer bonfire but the first week Harry had to work and the second week she had to work.

There was no time for a dinner date to rekindle the love that never left nor ask questions that Harry needed answered.

By then, everyone outside their circle of friends had heard she was home. People eyed Harry like he was a whole new person. “Ran into her,” Gemma smiled excitedly. “She looks beautiful, college was kind to her.”

Harry nodded, the pair of them in his backyard while his mum was inside cooking for them. They insisted on helping but naturally Gemma told him he was grating cheese the wrong way which resulted in a bickering mess of cheese on Harry’s floor and his mum ushering her grown children outside so she could cook in peace.

They were lying in the grass and Harry sighed feeling like the air had been bogged down with pollutants he didn’t even notice for three years because the air was clean now. “Nearly cried on the elevator when she talked ‘bout her friend Carter. Guess he’s dating her college roommate,” he explained. “He called her gorgeous and I thought I was going t’throw up, Gem,” he rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes and sighed. “M’crazy, aren’t I?”

“No more than usual,” Gem smiled. “I told you she’d be back.” Part of Harry doubted Gemma. It was small, but gnawed at him late at night when he missed her most and thought about how nice it would be to have her to snuggle with in his bed. It had been ages since he held her like that. They only had a small number of sleepovers at their age. They were very much still under the watchful eye of their parents at that time. He cherished those memories and often looked at the twinkling stars when he thought about how she would feel in his bed when he couldn’t sleep.

“Yeah,” Harry smiled back. “You were right,” he sighed with relief.

“She’s scared Mum is going to hate her.”

Harry rolled his eyes; irritation of the slightest bit filled his body. “Of course she is,” he huffed out another exhausted sigh.

“I told her that was ridiculous.”

Harry didn’t tell Gemma about the dinner date he was waiting for (again) because she already knew. “M’hoping she’ll tell me why.”

“I think we’re all hoping that, Harry,” she reached for his hand and squeezed it. “M’sure if you ask she’ll tell you.”

“Gemma, I hugged her, and I think it cured me,” he swallowed. The way her body fit into the frame of his like they never stopped hugging was so incredible. Gemma smiled fondly at her little brother and nodded. She was certain he was telling the truth. Gemma believed they were made for each other just as much as the rest of everyone else believed. “M’afraid that if I kiss her, I might propose on the spot.”

“Over my dead body,” Gemma laughed. “Mum and I would kill you for not letting us be there,” so Harry couldn’t do anything else but laugh along with her.

*

They were approaching week three and other than run ins as a group and waves as their lives quietly skipped past one another through no fault of their own. But finally, he ran into her at the grocery store. She was in the checkout line waiting and Harry was just grabbing a cart to fill for the week.

“Hey, kitten,” he smiled. She had a basket on her arm that looked like the handles were digging into her skin and he wanted to take it from her but instead she placed it at her feet and smiled back so sweetly as they began chatting.

“Finished with your shift?” She asked.

He nodded. “Yeah. M’gonna go home and take a nap. But m’low on a lot of food.”

“If I were you, I would have bought something to go and went and took that nap.”

“Well, then I wouldn’t have run into you,” he reminded her with a smile that took over his lips before he could stop it. It wasn’t meant to be cute or sweet, but it was anyway. It made her cheeks turn pink and it did feel like fate—even though if this were three years ago, she wouldn’t have even noticed she had run into Harry by chance. It would have seemed like the most natural thing in the world.

“That’s true,” she bit the inside of her lip.

“How ‘bout you? Working tonight?” He asked.

She shook her head. “You can go ahead of me,” she said to the woman waiting behind her who smiled kindly in return. “No... I did a double yesterday and I’m awfully tired myself. A nap sounds like the right idea,” she grinned knowingly.

Harry couldn’t help it. The words came out of his mouth before he could stop them, and he thought it was now or never because they had been doing some kind of dance that he was certain she would write about. Ships passing in the night and all that. Just missing one another and their free time so he had to ask right then. “Are y’free tonight?” He asked. “Other than napping?” He amended with a tired smile. “For that dinner?” He reminded her.

“Yes,” she nodded quickly, immediately. A relieved sigh fell from his mouth, and he thought it was the best news in the world. Maybe even better than the news she was home. Even though he was there in person to see that for himself. She giggled slightly at his relief. Not because it was funny, but because she was relieved too.

“I’ll pick y’up at six.”

*

She was bubbling with excitement as she left the grocery store. Her heart in her throat and she headed to the coffee shop because if she was going to skip her nap to get ready for her date with her ex-boyfriend but also the very same man she’d been in love with since she understood the emotion, then she was going to need caffeine. And back up. A text to Eleanor and Sarah telling them it was date night set them into motion.

“Hey Lo,” she smiled downright gleefully. A date with Harry. It felt like the very first one. “Can I have my usual?” She asked.

Lauren nodded eagerly, a smile on her lips. Her kind friend chatted with her, asking how her day was going, how her studies were and the like. It was unbelievably nice to have her back in town. It had eaten away at Lauren for what she had insinuated. Keeping it a secret from her friend group was abhorrent. She knew it was and so the fact she was home was a good thing.

She was happy to have her friend back. Even though she knew it was her fault she left in the first place. “Harry and I are going to dinner,” she was smiling the way she used to when Harry texted her asking if they needed anything for their study time.

Just like that a switch went off in the pit of her stomach. The envy she felt was atrocious and she wanted to stop it but it was growing like it had the day she had told her Harry deserved more. “Like a date?” She asked in surprise.

She nodded. “I know. It’s...kinda crazy right?”

“Yeah... yeah it is. I’m surprised... he uh...” Lauren swallowed begging her mouth not to say anything worse than what she had suggested three years prior. She had already lost her friend, she knew it. It was a miracle she was home. She didn’t deserve the heartache at the hands of her jealousy. But the green little monster was vicious. “He doesn’t usually go on dates during the week,” she murmured, putting her drink on the counter. It was horrible, watching the bubbly bright smile fall off her face. Literally slid from her lips to the floor in seconds. Lauren turned to the customer that was next in line. “I’m sure it’s fine,” she said as she made the next drink. “It’ll be a nice date.”

But just like before, she knew she planted a seed of doubt as she left the coffee shop.

*

Eleanor and Sarah were already at her apartment when she got there. They had clothing options that they had scrounged together as well as a plethora of makeup pallets that she didn’t have since most of her stuff was still a day or two out. “At least my stuff will be here soon.”

“I cannot wait to see your shoes,” Sarah sighed dreamily. “You always had the best shoe collection.”

“Do you still have your curling iron?” Eleanor asked. “That thing was the most amazing hair styling tool known to man and I don’t know how I have lived without you and it all these years.”

She giggled, grateful for the distraction from her conversation with Lauren. Because honestly, if they hadn’t already been there, she might have cancelled on Harry and thought about moving back with Addie and Carter. Thinking of Addie made her miss her. “Do you guys mind if I FaceTime Addie? She’ll want to know I’m going on this date.”

“Of course not! We’ll need her opinion too,” Eleanor assured her.

So she rang Addie who picked up on the second ring and was immediately squealing with excitement. “I told you he wouldn’t have moved on!” She shouted.

“Holy shit, did you think he moved on?!” Sarah asked.

“Well... I mean... it was three years.”

Sarah and Eleanor exchanged a look of disbelief. “You’re joking, right?”

“I told you,” Addie quipped again. Eleanor was putting eyeshadow on her and her reflection in the mirror suggested she wouldn’t need any of the three cream blushes that Eleanor had laid on the counter. She glared at Addie on her cell phone screen.

“Well...I don’t know. I just figured...”

“Hi Addie,” Carter said. “Wow, aren’t you all dolled up, Gorgeous,” he winked at the screen. Nice to see you.”

“Oh no wonder Harry was jealous of him,” Eleanor whispered delightedly.

“Shut up, he was not,” she gasped.

Addie giggled, pecked Carter’s warm cheek. “Nice to meet you ladies,” he said to Sarah and Eleanor. “Heard tons about you. I’m gonna start dinner, love,” he kissed the top of Addie’s head. “Can’t wait to see the finished product, Gorgeous,” he winked at her again as he left their view.

It was great for her aching heart that her two little families liked each other so quickly. She wanted to ask Eleanor and Sarah about what Lauren had said about him dating but she was scared to know the answer. But if she didn’t know, then it would probably ruin the date. “How... how often does Harry go on dates?” She asked.

“None,” Addie was the one that answered with a shake of her head.

Eleanor snorted. “She’s right,” Sarah nodded. “Harry has been on zero dates. Unless you count Mrs. Peterson needing him all the time to fix something at her house. Then about a thousand, I’d say,” she smiled.

“None?” She asked. “I...” she swallowed. “I thought I heard someone say...he was dating.”

“Who the fuck said that?” Eleanor looked at her in the mirror in absolute shock.

“Oh I just...” she should have told them. They would be able to assuage her worries immediately. “People talk about me pretty loudly; with Harry being a town staple now,” she shrugged. “They think I’m deaf or something,” she explained quietly.

“Harry hasn’t dated anyone,” Sarah stated matter of fact, no room for argument.

“I told you so,” Addie sang through the phone. Eleanor and Sarah smiled sweetly at their new friend within a cellphone screen. “You left your picture here,” Addie said and moved to the kitchen.

“What picture?” Sarah asked.

“Addie...maybe don’t make me look insane?” She suggested and wished she could cover her face with her hands but didn’t want to ruin the makeup.

But Addie was already showing them the picture of her and Harry from their days in school when they first got together. “You had that on the fridge?” Eleanor looked at her with astonishment.

“Yeah, literally from the moment we moved in,” Addie reminded her.

“Harry has the same one on his fridge,” Sarah explained.

“Same what?”

Her head snapped up to the mirror reflection and saw Harry’s frame hovering near the doorway. “Holy shit, sweetie, he’s even hotter in person,” Addie was already swooning.

“Addison!” Carter called from behind the screen.

Harry chuckled, his cheeks the slightest shade pinker. “Hi Addie.”

“Harry,” she smiled unabashedly, unaffected by her compliment. “I can see why she said she would spend thousands of dollars on your calendar.”

He snorted and caught her gaze in the reflection again. He squinted, the screen that showed the picture of the pair of them on the fridge miles and miles away. “That’s on your fridge?” He asked.

“Every morning I stare at it while I drink orange juice from the carton.”

“I told you it was her, Carter,” she said knowingly.

“How did you get in?” Sarah asked.

“Door was unlocked. I heard you guys squealing, so I figured I’d see what you were all up to. Also it’s five fifty five and I said I would be here at six.”

“So punctual,” Addie smiled brightly.

“Well, she’s all set,” Eleanor tapped her shoulder. “Just need to swap out this cute comfy look with a dress.”

“How fancy is the place we’re going?” She frowned.

“It’s not,” he assured her. “You could go like that, honestly. You would still be prettier than everyone else.”

“That’s notebook worthy for sure,” Addie murmured.

“Addison,” this time it wasn’t Carter that said it.

“Have fun, sweetie. Nice meeting you all.”

“Bye Gorgeous!” Carter called as Addie gave a wave and hung up.

Eleanor and Sarah ushered Harry out of the bathroom and she changed quietly. Immediately calling Addie back and pressing the phone to her ear. “Lauren said he’s dating,” she whispered so quietly Addie could barely hear her.

“Lauren can go eat dirt. She’s probably jealous. He asked you on a date.”

She sighed. “This is a horrible idea.”

“No,” Addie was serious, shaking her head even though she couldn’t see. “It’s a wonderful idea. He’s your soulmate who has waited three years for this date. Let him have it,” she whispered. “You deserve this, sweetie. You love him. You just need to jump,” she assured her.

She took a deep breath and looked away from the mirror. “Okay,” she whispered to Addie. “I’ll jump.”

--

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach

@straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals

@angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams

@summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong @foreverxholland

@lovrave @st-ev-ie @pandeebearstyles @toosarcastic03 @luvonstyles

@tenaciousperfectionunknown @classychalamet @love-letters-to-uranus @emmaawbr @crossyourpeter

@kissitnhekitchen @kittenhere @stylesfever @indierockgirrl @michellekstyles

@just-another-reader1098 @hermionelove @tiredinwinter @whimsy-willows @hannah9921

@fangirl7060 @triski73 @vikiii07 @prettygurl-2009 @madstyles3204

@angeldavis777

most: @harryspirate

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist here

[sugar-omi]

my thoughts have been nothing but Cove with a collar and leash. Just you pulling the leash while he fucks you or you fucking him from behind while pulling it. Pulling him down on his knees and having him crawl towards you.

i instantly knew i needed a whole fic on this, anon you could not have sent this at a better time pls... i've actually been thinking abt this all day!! also i'm glad someone else had this thought bc ive thought abt it before n its so.... hnggg... eta now that ive finished writing: THIS IS THE NASTIEST FIC I THINK IVE EVER WRITTEN N ITS LONGER THAN I THOUGHT IT'D BE.... i think you can tell i Actually lost my mind while writing, pls i was SO INTO IT AHHH THIS IS MY FAVORITE RN HOLY SHIT

DAY TWO — COLLARING

*kinktober masterlist | *ao3

tags : NSFW, gn reader, multiple choice dialogue, dom!reader + sub!cove, switch cove/reader, begging, a bit of dacryphilia (crying), orgasm denial, master + puppy titles, puppy play (implied/mentioned), dirty talk/degradation

synopsis : you put a collar and leash on cove, he likes the control you have over him.

cove is so handsome already, waking up to your pretty husband always leaves you on cloud nine.

but having cove in front of you, squirming as he tries to be patient while you clasp the collar around his neck and straighten it...

"master..?" cove mutters, speaking carefully as if any louder, and it'll break the moment building between you.

"yes, puppy? what is it?" you pet cove's bangs away from his forehead, settling your fingers in the messy strands.

he's so pretty like this. looking up at you with those big eyes... you could keep him like this forever.

"will you uh..." cove swallows, his fingers finding the ridged edge of his scar. "make it tighter?"

you lift your brows, curious at the request. "i'll tighten it by one loop, no more."

cove smiles, if he had a tail it would wag. "that's fine."

you undo the buckle and tighten it, fidgeting with it until you're satisfied. "there. what do you think?"

cove turns around, not moving from his knees, and faces the mirror where he leans forward and trails the edge of his new collar with his finger tips.

"its nice..." he trails off, feel speechless at his new jewelry, and a natural habit as he gets into the scene.

you pull his head back by his hair, standing over him. "now what do you say to master?" you urge, ready to turn the tables but you're trusting cove to be obedient, especially with his gift.

he licks his lips, squirming. "t-thank you, master.."

you smile, leaning down to kiss your boys forehead. "good boy."

cove gazes into your eyes, so full of love and trust.

and while he's admiring you, probably thinking something cheesy even when he's like this, you clasp the leash on his neck.

"oh-" cove's throat strains against the collar as he tries to look at his new addition.

"you can't walk a dog without a leash, puppy." you remark, not bothering to fight the smirk on your lips.

cove nods, biting his lip as he follows the length of the leash to your hand.

you pet his hair, fixing the strands. "it's weird seeing you with this new collar, isn't it?" you don't expect a reply but cove agrees. "we'll just make new memories with this one..."

"ma-master!" cove whines loudly, pushing his hips back on your strap / dick.

you tut, gripping cove's hips and tugging on his leash hard enough to make his shoulders roll back, you can't fight the grin that spreads across your lips when he yells, and tightens around your length, whining at the drag.

"stay still, puppy. use your words if you want something." you reprimand, leaning over cove's back to kiss his neck.

he pants, tugging at the sheets. "master..."

you work your way up to his jaw, planting kisses all along the way. "yes, puppy?"

cove looks back at you, his eyes big and glassy, "harder.. please?"

you coo, kissing cove's cheek. "see how easy it is to use your words?" you tug on cove's leash to bring his upper body up so you can kiss him, the kiss is messy, and cove is drooling but it's so cute to see how mindless he gets when you put the collar on him.

you adjust your position to fulfill cove's wish, wrapping the leash around your hand and pulling it taut while you fuck into his willing body with abandon.

cove moans loudly, cursing as your tip slams against his prostate.

you grin at the moans easily falling from his lips, singing so beautifully for you. "what do you say?"

cove is silent, save for his loud and lewd moans before he speaks in a shaky voice. "thank you! thank you master!"

you tug on the leash again, relishing in the shaky groan that comes from cove.

"i'm.. i'm gonna cum!" cove pants, clawing at the sheets as he pushes back on your cock.

"don't you dare cum, i didn't give you permission." you wrap your hand between his legs to squeeze the tip.

"ah- y/n, please!" cove begs, wide eyes pleading with you to let him finish.

"bad pups don't get to finish," you growl, tugging on the leash so he's flushed against your chest. "you didn't even address me properly. why would i let you cum?"

cove whimpers, "please.. i'm sorry, master! i'll do anything.."

you kiss his cheeks before you find his lips, softly slipping your tongue in your fretting pups mouth, trying to kiss his distress away.

"poor baby... how about this, if you can fuck me i'll let you cum."

cove looks at you with wide eyes, used to being on the bottom even if you're taking his cock.

he swallows, clearly wishing you'd just fuck him until he can't think but also wanting to obey. he nods, "yes, yes master..."

he's even prettier like this. so pathetic and darling, leaning over you on shaky arms as he weakly ruts into your hole.

"awe, you can do better than that, puppy." you coo, tugging on the leash to get his attention, cove's eyes stuck on your hole swallowing up his sensitive dick.

"but-but... i'm so sensitive!" he cries, referring to the cock ring you slipped on him beforehand.

"but you've endured so much more than a bit of edging, surely my sweet boy can get through this?" you sooth, squeezing cove's hand thats clinging onto yours for comfort.

cove whimpers, resting his head on your shoulder.

you smack your lips irritably. your puppy is so pathetic today, usually he's so enthusiastic even when you deny him orgasm. maybe you need to be more strict...

deciding cove needs to remember who's in charge, you wrap the leash around your hand and stretch your arm out to tug cove out of your shoulder.

"ah-!" cove's eyes widen, and you can feel his cock twitch from the way the sudden tug chokes him, the collar straining on his throat but not uncomfortably painful.

"i'm being lenient here, puppy. don't make me punish you." you fix your eyes sternly, trying to break through cove's fucked out daze. you're still in charge. "do you want your first time in this collar to be a punishment?"

cove shakes his head, his hair flopping around. "no, master.." he mutters weakly.

"come here, sweet boy..." you reach for him, pulling him into a kiss.

cove whines into the kiss, hardly letting you breathe in between kisses. you tug on his bottom lip with your teeth when you break the kiss, pushing against cove's chest.

"keep going puppy, you can finish this time." you promise, making cove light up.

he rambles his thank you's, situating your legs on his shoulders and he starts to move even though his thrusts are shaky and you both moan in tandem when his tip bumps against your cervix / prostate.

this time cove is more enthusiastic, his hips bucking wildly into you and making your bounce against the pillows with every thrust.

cove pants, his lips parted and his tongue poking out. "you're so.. so beautiful, master..."

you coo, accepting the compliment but you can't help but tease him. "so sweet. but are you sure- ah- you're.. not talking about my ass / pussy?"

cove huffs, looking up at you with those same glassy eyes and shaking his head.

you laugh and mock in a shaky voice, "but isn't that why you're such a dumb puppy today? because master fucked you dumb on their dick and even now all you can think about is cumming inside your master."

cove moans lowly at the accusation, and even if he tried to fight it, he can't deny that his thrusts picked up pace, further abusing your insides, and he just pants wildly.

you tug on the leash, propping yourself on your elbows so you can tug his head back. "that's it! let go and just be my dumb cock / pussy drunk puppy!"

cove nods, looking at you with tears slipping from his beautiful eyes, "yes master, wanna.. wanna be yours.." he babbles, holding your hips down so he can thrust up into you, practically humping you like a dog.

"i know baby, tell me how much of a slut you are. admit it, you like when i collar you and make you act like a dog?" you groan, throwing your head back when cove hits a sweet spot inside you

"ye-yes! i love it!" cove pants, his eyes welling up again.

you stutter out a coo in between cove's rough thrusts, "and following me around on all fours, with anal beads shoved up your slutty hole?"

cove whimpers loudly, crumbling at the dirty talk.

"you look so pretty with that tail swinging behind you, i should've put it inside you today." you wistfully ramble.

"gonna-gonna come... master can i please, please cum?" cove whines out through gritted teeth, leaning over you so he's actually humping you this time.

"cum for me puppy, you're so good for me." you praise, reaching between your bodies to stroke your sex, huffing when your fingers brush against the sensitive nerves.

cove finishes quickly, his hips stuttering into your fluttering entrance as he weakly finishes inside you, his cock twitching against your sensitive insides.

you finish with him, shaking and accidently tugging on the leash that's still tight in your grip.

cove whines and curls himself into your neck, his breathing slowly evening out.

you push back his hair, encouraging him to look at you and you're met with his pretty eyes, lashes spiked from tears and his cheeks flushed and sweaty.

you coo, "my beautiful boy, you did so good.." you lean forward to kiss his nose, enjoying how he scrunched up his face. "so you definitely like the collar, baby?"

cove flushes, tilting his head but looking at you through his lashes. eventually he nods, "yeah..."

[twoidiotwriters1]

The Curse of Oenone (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: The journey back home was exhausting BUT I'm okay now -Danny Words: 2,591 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter // Next Chapter Listen to: 'Still' -by Kailee Morgue

IV: And I Said No, You Know, Like a Liar

"Leo," Annabeth tries for the tenth time. "Did Octavian trick you somehow? Did he frame you, or—"

"No." Leo's pale and shaking. "The guy was a jerk, but he didn't fire on the camp. I did."

"On purpose?" Frank stares at him like he's insane... and he might be.

"No!" The boy closes his eyes, trying to remember. "Well, yes... I mean, I didn't want to. But at the same time, I felt like I wanted to. Something was making me do it. There was this cold feeling inside me—"

"A cold feeling," Annabeth echoes like she knows what that means.

"Yeah," Leo looks at her. "Why?"

"Annabeth," Percy calls from below deck. "We need you!"

Leo leans against the mast defeatedly, he got all of his friends hurt and he's just about ready to puke, which softens Annabeth's conduct. 

"He'll be fine," she tells him, referring to Jason. "Frank, I'll be back. Just... watch Leo. Please. Ara, coming or staying?"

"I'll stay," she replies. 

Once the others are gone, Ara speaks again. 

"Look at me," she demands.

Leo's lip quivers and he closes his eyes. Ara reaches for his face, her fingertips are cold and they alleviate the pain in his temples. He doesn't look at her yet, too ashamed to face her.

"It's okay. You didn't hurt me."

"I tried to," he replies hoarsely. He can feel Ara absorbing his guilt with the empath touch, and he doesn't know how to stop it, so he pushes her hands away. "I don't—I would never—"

"I know," she brushes his curls back, trying to ease him. "I'm okay."

She can't shake off the feeling that this is her fault... that this is the curse manifesting at last. Maybe Leo short-circuited after he came into contact with the Romans, and the ancient part of his soul remembered something and tried to fix a past mistake.

Whatever the reason, Ara has to correct it before it gets worse. She turns to Frank. "Dragon boy.  I saw you in my dreams, you looked after my brother. Thank you."

Frank doesn't know how to respond to that, so he points to the laurels that fell off her belt. "I think that's yours."

Ara glances at the crown, but she doesn't pick it up. "Yeah, leave it there, nothing will happen to it."

"Your name isn't Sammy?" Frank blurts out randomly, looking at Leo.

Leo snaps his eyes open just to glare at Frank. "What kind of question is that?"

"Nothing. I just—Nothing. About the firing on the camp... Octavian could be behind it, like magically or something. He didn't want the Romans getting along with you guys."

Ara appreciates Frank's willingness to believe them even though they're probably the most unnerving kids he'll ever meet, and even though his girlfriend spent most of the feast staring at another boy.

"Well, if Leo wasn't in control of himself," she stands up. "I'll find out who was, and I'll take care of it."

"Thank you... Strategus." Frank clears his throat.

She smiles. "Call me Ara."

"Hey," Leo speaks, still in a bad mood. "I should talk to Festus and get a damage report. You mind...?" He gestures at the rope.

Ara unties him and Frank helps him to his feet. "Who is Festus?"

"My friend. His name isn't Sammy either, in case you're wondering. Come on. I'll introduce you."

We're waiting for Nico in the arena. I'm using a real sword today, Mike won't join us so I seized the opportunity. 

Nico shows up with a greenish face, dark circles have appeared under his eyes, and he isn't as lively as usual. 

"What's wrong?" I check his temperature. "You okay?"

"I had a weird dream," he says weakly.

Lily and I share a look. Now that we know who his godly parent is, we suspect Nico's going to get some hints about it too. We can't allow that while his sister is away.

"I'm sorry. I must've made you nervous by telling you about my Iris message to Percy..."

I talked to my brother the other night—my mom was there too, but I don't wanna think about that part—and he said Bianca was okay, but I think telling Nico only worsened his anxiety.

He pushes my hand away from his face. "I'm fine! Let's train."

Lily gives me another look. Percy needs to bring Bianca back to camp, I don't know how to help Nico.

"The port aerial oars have to be fixed before we can go full speed again. We'll need some repair materials: Celestial bronze, tar, lime—"

"What do you need limes for?"

"Dude, lime," Leo gets a little impatient when others can't keep up with his thoughts. "Calcium carbonate, used in cement and a bunch of other— Ah, never mind. The point is, this ship isn't going far unless we can fix it."

Festus makes a couple of other noises and Leo nods.

"Oh... Hazel! That's the girl with the curly hair, right?"

"Is she okay?" Frank asks anxiously.

"Yeah, she's fine. According to Festus, her horse is racing along below. She's following us."

"We've got to land, then."

"She's your girlfriend?" Ara asks, noticing the lavender hue around him.

Frank takes a second to respond. "Yes."

"You don't sound sure," Leo teases him.

"Yes. Yes, definitely. I'm sure," he replies defensively.

Leo raised his hands. "Okay, fine. The problem is we can only manage one landing. The way the hull and the oars are, we won't be able to lift off again until we repair, so we'll have to make sure we land somewhere with all the right supplies."

"Where do you get Celestial bronze?" Frank asks. "You can't just stock up at Home Depot."

"Festus, do a scan."

"He can scan for magic bronze?" Frank wonders. "Is there anything he can't do?"

"You should've seen him when he had a body," Ara sighs.

The memory of a whole Festus seems to worsen Leo's already terrible state of mind. Percy and Annabeth come back on deck together, both looking stressed. Leo steps forward. "Is Jason—?"

"He's resting," Annabeth announces. "Piper's keeping an eye on him, but he should be fine."

"Annabeth says you did fire the ballista?" Percy eyes him.

"Man, I—I don't understand how it happened," Leo stammers. "I'm so sorry—"

"Sorry?" He steps closer menacingly.

"Percy, really, don't start," Ara warns him.

"Don't start?" The boy repeats aghast. "He started it!"

Annabeth places a hand on his chest and pulls him back. "We'll figure it out later. Right now, we have to regroup and make a plan. What's the situation with the ship?"

Festus talks again, and Leo sighs in relief. "Perfect."

"What's perfect?" Annabeth asks. "I could use some perfect about now."

"Everything we need in one place," Leo declares. "Frank, why don't you turn into a bird or something? Fly down and tell your girlfriend to meet us at the Great Salt Lake in Utah."

Frank obliges quickly, and then Percy moves forward. 

"Ara, can we talk?" He asks, glaring at Leo.

Ara's not in the mood to deal with her brother. "Later. I have to patch up Leo."

"I'm okay—"

"You're not," Ara shuts him up. "Sit down and let me do my job."

Leo fixes his gaze on the controls, embarrassed and miserable. Ara turns to Annabeth and looks at her with pleading eyes. "I got this, you can go."

"C'mon," Annabeth pulls Percy back. "I'll show you where your cabin is."

It's the two girls versus him, and he's never been able to win those battles. When the couple leaves, Ara turns back to Leo going back to her gentle tone. 

"Hey—"

"Don't patronize me," he leans on the control board, eyes fixed on the monitor. "Please. You told me once that pity parties are good for nothing. Don't throw one now."

"Alright," Ara replies with a strong voice. "I've got a bruised rib, my brother doesn't like you, and you're a war criminal in New Rome. But..." She tries to reach for his hand, and when Leo doesn't move away, she holds it firmly. "You sound so smart when you ramble about construction materials—it's kinda hot, honestly."

Leo sighs heavily, stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. "You think that'd make me feel better, but..."

Ara clicks her tongue. "You were being used, Leo. And I've got proof," she grabs his face and forces him to look at her. "You called me Arae before leaving and I hated it."

He blinks and frowns. "So what? You don't like your name, that's not new."

"Ever since we met you call me Doll, Sunshine, Cielo—or Corazón when you're feeling extra cheesy," she teases him. "You only call me Arae when it's the two of us and we're being serious, but when you did it then... it felt like a stranger was talking to me." 

Ara steps back, feeling a little crazy. 

"It sounds stupid, but you pronounce it in a very specific way. Whoever talked to me, wasn't you."

Leo glances at the panel and radars on the control board, but he's thinking of how she called him Leónidas while trying to make him snap out of his trance, and how she almost succeeded because it feels different when she says it.

"Your brother should stay mad at me anyway, if it hadn't been for him—"

"Don't even," Ara rolls her eyes. "You know I can kick your ass any time."

"But it wasn't me!" Leo reminds her with frustration. "How are you not angry? I ruined everything! Even the ship we broke our backs building for six months!"

She can't tell him that she's not mad because she's sure this is the curse's fault, that's only going to make him spiral into a whole new crisis. Besides, she is angry, but mostly at herself, so she can't correct him unless she wants to get lectured.

"Big prophecies are never easy..." She squeezes his shoulders. "You wanna sulk for the rest of the day? Be my guest, but let's fix the ship while you're at it."

Leo shakes his head, tilts his head to the side, and plants a soft kiss on her knuckles. "Alright. I can do that."

"Cool. Now sit down and let me heal your head," Ara lightly runs her fingers through his curls. "We can be miserable together after I'm done with this."

"Fun date ideas," he replies, the tiniest smile on his face.

Leo manages to land the ship on the water. He's still not talking much, but Ara knows he'll need time to feel like himself again. As they approach the stairs, they hear hooves behind them and they turn, finding Hazel and her horse on deck. 

"How—?" Leo stumbles back. "We're in the middle of a lake! Can that thing fly?"

"Arion can't fly," Hazel explains over the loud whines of the horse. "But he can run across just about anything. Water, vertical surfaces, small mountains—none of that bothers him."

"Oh."

Ara notices the way Hazel keeps looking at Leo, and whatever it is that has her so fascinated, it's starting to get annoying.

"General," Coach Hedge shows up with his bat. She'd almost forgotten he was on the ship with them. "Does this count as an invasion?"

"No!" Leo and Ara say at the same time.

"Um, Hazel," Leo says awkwardly, "you'd better come with us. I built a stable belowdecks, if Arion wants to—"

"He's more of a free spirit." The girl says, diving off the animal's back. "He'll graze around the lake until I call him. But I want to see the ship. Lead the way."

Ara and Leo guide her downstairs, but more than awkward, it's unsettling. Hazel is glowing lavender, and Ara isn't a jealous girl, or at least she doesn't think she is, but no one has paid attention to Leo like this before, and she's having trouble tolerating it.

They walk past Jason's cabin, where Piper is looking after him, and then they reach the mess hall where the rest of the crew is.

"So we've landed," Percy says, staring at one of the screens showing Camp Half-blood. "What now?"

"Figure out the prophecy?" Frank suggests.

"Which one?" Ara says sarcastically.

"I mean... that was a prophecy Ella spoke, right? From the Sibylline Books?"

"The what?" Leo asks.

Frank explains that Ella spat out a prophecy from an old collection of books. Ara's secretly glad the harpy didn't notice her, she doesn't want to hear her prophecy again, let alone recited by a crazy harpy.

"That's why you didn't tell the Romans," Leo guesses. "You didn't want them to get hold of her."

"Ella's sensitive," Percy scowls at the Camp Half-blood scenery. "She was a captive when we found her. I just didn't want... It doesn't matter now. I sent Tyson an Iris message, told him to take Ella to Camp Half-Blood. They'll be safe there."

"Let me think about the prophecy," Annabeth leans on the table. "Right now we have more immediate problems. We have to get this ship fixed. Leo, what do we need?"

"The easiest thing is tar," Leo starts right away. "We can get that in the city, at a roofing-supply store or someplace like that. Also, Celestial bronze and lime. According to Festus, we can find both of those on an island in the lake, just west of here."

"We'll have to hurry," Hazel says. "If I know Octavian, he's searching for us with his auguries. The Romans will send a strike force after us. It's a matter of honor."

Leo makes a face. "Guys... I don't know what happened. Honestly, I—"

"We've been talking," Annabeth interrupts him. "We agree it couldn't have been you, Leo. That cold feeling you mentioned... I felt it too. It must have been some sort of magic, either Octavian or Gaea or one of her minions. But until we understand what happened—"

"How can we be sure it won't happen again?" Frank inquires.

"I'm fine now," Leo assures him. "Maybe we should use the buddy system. Nobody goes anywhere alone. We can leave Piper and Coach Hedge on board with Jason. Send one team into town to get tar. Another team can go after the bronze and the lime."

"Split up?" Percy frowns. "That sounds like a really bad idea."

Ara crosses her arms, challenging her brother. "I'll go with Leo. If anything happens to him, I can take care of it."

Percy's eyes flash with annoyance. "Ara—"

"It'll be quicker," Hazel intervenes, smartly guessing an argument between Ara and Percy isn't quick to put out. "Besides, there's a reason a quest is usually limited, right?"

"You're right," Annabeth agrees. "The same reason we needed the Argo II... outside camp, eight demigods in one place will attract way too much monstrous attention. The ship is designed to conceal and protect us. We should be safe enough on board; but if we go on expeditions, we shouldn't travel in groups larger than three or four. No sense alerting more of Gaea's minions than we have to."

Percy glares at Ara sending a clear message. This isn't over. He turns and holds Annabeth's hand. "As long as you're my buddy, I'm good."

"Oh, that's easy," Hazel smiles. "Frank, you were amazing, turning into a dragon! Could you do it again to fly Annabeth and Percy into town for the tar?"

"I...I suppose," he hesitates. "But what about you?"

"I'll ride Arion with Sa—with Leo and Ara," she quickly corrects herself. Ara remembers Frank called Leo "Sammy". Is that some old friend of theirs? "We'll get the bronze and the lime. We can all meet back here by dark."

Frank doesn't look happy about this arrangement, and neither is Ara, but maybe she absorbed a bit too much of Leo's disheartenment.

"Guys, if we get the supplies, how long to fix the ship?" Annabeth continues.

"With luck, just a few hours."

"Fine," the blonde girl gets up. "We'll meet you back here as soon as possible, but stay safe. We could use some good luck. That doesn't mean we'll get it."

"I don't need luck, Annabeth," Ara seizes Almighty and stares at the symbols on it, the needle is completely still. "Just a deadline."

Next Chapter ->

Taglist.

@siriuslysirius1107 @ask-giggles1303 @asnyox-the-hoarder @im-planning-something-look @bandshirts-andbooks @coolninjapaper @thewaterlily @whenisthefall @1randomcomic @you-bloody-shank @sunflowergraves @owlalex44 @taylordaughter @typicalsolangelolover @writingmia @espressopatronum454 @slytherinnqueen @orbitingpolaris @obxstiles

[orcelito]

Great time to become deeply concerned and anxious about how life is rn and contemplating just quitting everything so I can focus on Not being exposed to The Rona Bc I’ve realized the number of cases in my county are steadily rising and it’ll probably have a sharp increase with the coming of all the new students (even requiring tests isn’t going to stop them from bringing it, tests are an imperfect system and they can Always pick it up in the time since taking it)

I’m already heavily considering dropping out of school for the semester (a decision supported by the knowledge that they Already have busted a big college party, an indication that my fellow peers will Not be responsible like they want them to be). I need money but like.

I’m scared, man.

I’ve got some savings to fall back on and people I could turn to if I needed help. I Could survive for a few months at least. But it’s not a long term solution. I can’t do that forever. But this virus, it’s not going away. I can’t just Not Work for the entirety of the time it’s here, because it’s not going away. I can’t depend on my government to help me not work so that I can be Safe. All they care about is money.

So I’m stuck. I’m stuck having to ride the bus almost every day, surrounded by people who don’t give a shit. Surrounded by people who, even after a government mandate on masks, still refuse to wear them or wear them shittily. I’m forced to walk past person after person on the streets who don’t have any mask on at all. Person after person who’s been to fucking restaurants and whatever else, because they don’t Care.

I’m stuck interacting with this world that’s dangerous to even be out in. And I am deeply afraid.

[spencersawkward]

*concussions and confessions//spencer reid*

summary: a near-death experience encourages Spencer to admit his feelings for his best friend, even at the risk of ruining their relationship.

pairing: Fem!Reader/Spencer

content warnings: oh boy there’s a lot. i’ll start with the nonsexual ones-- choking (again, not sexual), blunt force, violence, some angst. ok time for the fun ones-- unprotected penetrative sex, masturbation, sex dream, oral (male receiving), slight dirty talk, creampie. lmk if there are more that i missed! 

word count: 5.4k

A/N: hi omg so i actually combined two requests for this bc i loved the concepts and i didn't wanna do one and not the other. i hope i do both of these justice hehe thanks for sending them! also sorry if the unsub scene sucks-- i don’t usually write that way, so i tried my best. 

request(s): omg if you need ideas for baby spence can you do a one shot where he's the girls best friend (she's not in the bau) and they are in love but neither of them admit it and he is really hurt in a case or almost dies or something traumatic and only when he gets back they confess their love... and then have sex 😏 ive been thinking about this concept alot 😌

can’t stop thinking about baby spencer (like s2-s4) & his girl best friend losing their virginity to each other... can you write a one shot on this please?

masterlist

"when are you coming back?" you ask over the line. you're lying on your bed, legs in the air while you talk to your best friend. it's been a long day for you, but a longer day for him. it's always a longer day for him. 

"you know that I don't know the answer to that question." Spencer's voice is soft as he attempts to keep quiet. he's two hours ahead and, despite the fact that you're both night owls, the person he's rooming with tonight isn't. 

"I know, but there's this Korean film festival that starts tomorrow and I was hoping you would be here to translate for me." you examine your nails while you talk. Spencer lets out a disappointed sigh. 

it's only been a few days since he left, but it's been a week since you last saw him and it feels like a long time. whenever he's not at work, you two are joined at the hip. ever since you first met a few years back at a poetry convention in DC, it feels like he's the only person who understands you. which is weird, because you couldn't be more different as individuals. 

"you should bring one of your other friends." 

"bold of you to assume I have other friends." you joke. Spencer chuckles to himself and your heart flutters. you love his laugh more than anything in the world. 

"I thought that was just me." he says. 

"oh, it is just you," you reply flatly. "I was trying to make you feel better."

you can practically feel Spencer smiling through the phone. although you tease him pretty frequently, he's sometimes able to get in his own shots. it's what makes your friendship interesting.

"hey," you add before he can say anything more. "how's the case going?" 

Spence starts to detail the whole thing, and you listen intently, the timbre and smoothness of his voice comforting you as you slip beneath the covers of your bed. you like the way he enunciates his words, his strange manner of speaking, because it lulls you to sleep. 

you know he's talking about horrible things, but something about the sound comforts you deeply. when he's not around, you're wishing you had it bottled up. 

he lays out their profile as it stands, and you fall silent. it's getting pretty late and you have to be up early for work tomorrow, so it would be a good idea to get some real rest. plus, Spencer needs to sleep, too-- even though he probably won't. 

you remember times when he'd call you at three in the morning, his mind whirring as he played chess against himself and asked if you wanted to hang out so he could teach you how. you hate chess, but of course you said yes; you'd been head over heels with him since your first conversation.

eventually, you feel yourself start to drift off. you don't even really know what he's saying; all of it blends together until you're laying there, one cheek pressed to the pillow and the receiver against the other. 

"Y/N?" he says your name abruptly and your eyes, which have been slowly drawing shut this whole time, fly open. 

"yeah?" 

"go to bed."

"what? no, I'll wait until you're done." you shift. 

"I could hear your breathing change." 

"then why didn't you just hang up?" you giggle. he goes silent for a moment and you wonder if he cut out, but then he responds. 

"I wanted to say goodnight." 

it's like a cage of butterflies is unleashed in your stomach. you wrinkle your nose as you get nervous. god, you miss him. things would be so much better if he was back. not like he'd be in your bed even if he was, though.  

"then say goodnight." you prod. he lets out an awkward little sound. 

"now I can't because you made it weird." 

"how did I make it weird?" 

"I don't know, you just did." he's so clumsy, your face heats up. you want to keep talking like this until morning.

"goodnight, Spence," the words sound reluctant, but you try to cover it up by teasing him further. "see, was that so bad?" 

"oh my god, Y/N--" he tries to sound exasperated. 

"no goodnight back?" you raise an eyebrow even though he can't see you right now.  

a lengthy silence again. "goodnight."

"that's what I thought." before he can protest, you end the call, settle into the covers. moonlight beams on the walls of your apartment, and you start to think about your best friend. about all the nights spent curled up on his couch with two bowls of popcorn, his ramblings about how much he loves his job and him asking about yours. 

he's a great listener. every time you talk, he nods along like he's hanging off every word. it's nice to feel heard that way, to have someone care. and he's fun to hang out with, too. you've met his team before and they all talk about how hard it is to get him to go out, but they don't see the same side of him that you do. 

Spencer is nerdy and cute and kind and sensitive. he makes you feel special. he's everything that you've ever wanted in a person. but it's not like it would matter, anyway. he hasn't really shown interest in any girls-- much less you. even if he did, you're scared of ruining the friendship. 

the fallout of not having him around at all... it would destroy you. and something, even if it's torturous, is better than nothing. 

which is why, as you sit there and remember being around him, your fingertips creep below the comforter. a familiar routine, they move over your stomach, until they reach the waistband of your panties. for a moment, you hesitate. it's wrong. he's your best friend. but he doesn't need to know that this is how you handle the ache he puts between your legs. 

as your index finger slides down your slit, you feel the wetness already forming. Spencer's hands, his mouth. the thought of his lips pressed to yours while he fucks you, holding your body like it's delicate. 

you don't know exactly how it would feel because you've never had sex, but you want to find out with him. he's never done it, either. you don't care; all you need is to have him inside of you, to see how he looks when he's on the edge. 

your mind wanders to the image of him parting your legs and rolling his eyes into the back of his head. the sensation of him filling you up. falling apart. 

you slide a finger inside, gasping at the way your walls tighten and your imagination runs wild. that tongue, lapping and making you squirm, your fingers twisted in his soft hair. he's so sweet; his attentiveness would make your legs shake. you want to look into his eyes while he does it. 

you add a second finger, curl them and brush over the most sensitive part. the pressure of his hips grinding into yours. your body curves up at the way you start to finger yourself, the other hand stimulating your clit. it's almost overwhelming, the way his name tumbles from your lips over and over. 

you've never wanted someone so badly in your life; he belongs in your bloodstream. the sounds he would make in your ear before finally cumming and collapsing on top of you, spent. you want to tire him out and then do it all over again. 

you're greedy on the edge, indulging in every single image of him you can conjure up, every dirty thing you'd say. finally, you feel yourself fall, the orgasm intense as you bite back groans of pleasure and work through the high. it's amazing. 

you sit there, panting, feeling your heart beat in your chest. some things can't leave your head, they're so sinful. and the worst part is that you don't regret it in the slightest. 

...

Spencer can feel his pulse practically leaping against his throat as he makes his way through the empty warehouse. he should have waited for backup; he knows he should have, but it's too late now to go back and change things. 

he clutches his gun, pointing it in front of him while his eyes flicker wildly across the space. he's moving between enormous aisles stuffed with crates, not knowing who else is around. they said the unsub brought his newest victim here-- Spencer came first because was closest to the site-- but he hears nothing aside from the uneven rhythm of his own breath. 

every step is careful. he's thinking about how close the rest of the team must be. based on their distance from the station, they should arrive within six minutes-- but that doesn't account for the time it takes to put on their bulletproof vests, to get to their cars. 

truthfully, he doesn't know if he's going to have to do this on his own. and that scares him the most. 

there's no point in worrying. he swallows the lump in his throat and presses his back to one of the crates. there's a scraping noise a ways off that causes him to freeze. because of the echoes of the warehouse, the origin is indiscernible. he doesn't breathe, eyes darting between each of the openings into the aisle. 

after a minute of pure silence, he peels himself away and turns to head back out. 

and that's when the sound of wood cracking against bone startles him; he hears it before he feels it, but it's obvious when he crumples to the floor. like knife points pressing into his brain at all angles, the shooting agony in his skull. 

he starts to clutch at his head, only to be yanked off the ground by a meaty hand and thrown against the side of a crate. 

"fucking feds." the guy is enormous. gargantuan. he keeps his arm across Reid's throat, pressing down enough to restrict his airway. but Spencer can't even concentrate on the guy's face further than its rough outlines. his vision is going in and out, fuzzy at the edges from the blow to his head. 

he definitely has a concussion. 

"I..." he trails off. the huge FBI logo on his vest is a dead giveaway. 

"all alone?" the unsub has breath like rotten fish, spits each word into his face. "I won't even need my gun." 

Spencer's head lolls to the side and he catches sight of his own weapon lying helplessly a few feet away. there's no way he could get to it in time, even if he got out of this guy's chokehold. 

he tries to think of a way to talk himself out of this; after all, their profile said he'd be more susceptible to negotiation, but that's kind of hard to do with someone's forearm slammed against your trachea. he presses harder and Spencer sees stars. his glasses hang almost off the bridge of his nose, centimeters from falling to the floor. 

he starts to realize that he's going to die, defenseless and alone, in a warehouse. at the hands of a man who kills women because his Viagra doesn't work. but this doesn't incite the kind of panic Spencer always predicted he'd feel. the lack of oxygen in his brain causes him to go delirious. 

he misses home. his mom and his old house, even though things were hard. he misses Y/N, his team members. he wishes his team was here; he should have waited for them. he should have told Y/N how he feels. now she's never going to know. 

Reid is so out of it, he doesn't even notice the pressure being relieved from his throat until he collapses on the ground. the unsub falls, too, his cheek smashed by the force of the abandoned wooden plank. 

it's hard to tell what's happening until Reid lifts his head to see Morgan standing above him, preparing to handcuff the criminal.

"kid," Spencer never thought he'd be so glad to hear his voice. "what happened?"

...

you practically crash into Spencer's apartment the next evening, flinging your body through the front door with your spare key. 

"Spence?" you call out from the entryway. everything still looks the same, but when his colleague, Penelope, called you today to tell you that Reid had gotten a concussion after a run-in with an unsub, you rushed here as soon as you could. 

"in here." he calls from his bedroom. you don't hesitate, your feet carrying you there. you've been anxious all day; he didn't call last night or even text like usual. you were on the verge of panicking when Penelope called. 

of course, you knew that was the risk with Spencer. he knew the risk, too. his life would always be in the balance when it came to the cases, but he'd gone through so many at this point, you weren't thinking about it. if you did, you wouldn't be able to focus on anything else. 

when you walk in, the first thing you see is Spencer laying in bed in his silk pjs. there's a stack of unread books on his bedside table. his glasses sit on top. he's just laying there with his eyes closed. 

"oh my god." you mutter, dropping your bag on the floor and walking over. he opens his eyes with a slight smile. there's a purple bruise forming across his throat, light but definitely there.  

"hi." 

"what the fuck happened?" you ask the question you've been wondering the whole way here. 

"he hit me with a plank." Spencer explains, the phrase coming out like he's still confused about it. "I'm fine, just a mild concussion and a bruise because he choked me." 

you take a second to assess if he actually means that he's okay, or if he's trying not to worry you. he stares at your expression for a second. 

"Y/N, I'm really fine." 

"you don't look fine." you gesture to the fact that he's laying in bed. 

"my body is sore, but nothing's wrong with me. I just can't look at screens or read." this last part makes him much more melancholy, it seems. you reach down and ruffle his hair playfully. 

"sounds like a nightmare." 

"it is." he cracks up. 

"I'm glad you're okay." you sigh. your heart rate has slowed to a reasonable pace now that you know he's fine. Spencer gives a ghost of a smile, and when he pats the empty spot on the bed beside him, you kick off your shoes and climb over his body to sit down. "so... did you guys get him?" 

"the unsub?" he turns his head to look at you. something is in his eyes that you can't read. "yeah, he's in custody. we saved the girl he abducted, too." 

"well, aren't you a hero?" you grin, pinching his arm. 

"ow!" he flinches. "don't hurt the patient."

"oh, so now you're injured?" you giggle softly. his smile fades a bit, gaze trailing from your face to your legs. it isn't lustful or anything, more like he's taking in your existence. it still makes your heart flutter. 

"I wasn't really a hero, anyway," he sighs. "I got knocked down before I even found her." 

"oof." you wince. 

"yeah, it's sort of embarrassing. I went in by myself and--"

"you went by yourself?" you clarify, turning to face him. of course he did. 

"yeah." he avoids your gaze. 

"Spencer, I work in a stationery shop and I know you're supposed to wait for backup." you deadpan. he snorts, staring straight ahead at the wall. his hair is flat in the back from where he's been resting it against the headboard. 

"he would have hurt her if I had waited." he explains. your heart softens a bit at this. you know Spencer has a problem with saving people; sometimes he doesn't think things through. but you know that it's only because he cares. 

you smile gently, appreciating what a beautiful person he is. you don't understand how other people don't see him how you do. your hand reaches for his suddenly, and you find yourself snuggling into his shoulder. 

Spencer doesn't usually like touch, but he welcomes this, dropping his own head to rest on top of yours while you both stare at the wall. his silence feels heavy, more than it usually does, and you wonder what he's thinking. 

"I'm really glad you're okay, Spencer." your tone is low, like it's a secret. 

"you already said that." 

"shut up." 

"you care about me." he sing-songs with a smile, and you know he means it in a friendly way, but you don't care. it brings warmth to your cheeks. 

"whatever. you care about me, too." 

he lets out a slight chuckle. "when I started to black out, I thought of you." 

your heart leaps, even though the reason is pretty dark. "oh, yeah?"

"mhmm." he hums. 

"nobody's ever told me that they thought of me in their last moments of life before." you tease. there are so many things you'd like to say, but know you can't. he smells like himself and coffee beans, his skin warm beneath the silk of his pajamas. 

"I'd hope not."

"anything in particular?" you wonder aloud. 

"what?" you feel him tense beneath you, and that's how you know there's something he's not telling you. 

"were you thinking about anything in particular?" 

"someone's full of themselves." he jokes. you smack his arm.  

"humor me." more than anything, you want to hear his thoughts. you know you're reaching, but you don't care. 

"just..." he pauses, the next words coming out almost too quietly to hear. "things I never got to say to you." 

"like?" now you're intrigued. 

"no way." he laughs and you groan, turning and realizing that you've both sunk deeper onto the bed and are now practically lying down. 

"c'mon," you prod. you've flipped onto your side while you watch him, his eyes directed at the ceiling. "what if you'd actually died?" 

Spencer gives you a look, and you wish you could snap a picture of his face. the gentle features, the warmth in his eyes. he stares at you differently than before, and it makes your stomach flip again. "I, um." 

you start to trace your index absently down his forearm, where his sleeve has incidentally gotten rolled up. his skin is soft. you know that this isn't a friendly thing to do, but something inside you craves his touch right now. you almost lost him; you can't imagine how horrible that would be. 

"I wanted to say that I--" he gulps, muscles in his shoulder tight beneath your cheek. "well, I care about you, and I... I really love you." 

it's not the first time he's said it, obviously in a platonic sense. what affects you is that he's acting like it's a big deal. 

"I love you too, Spence." you smile softly. his chest rises and falls faster, his face tensed. 

"no, I mean--" he turns onto his side, using the action to distract from his own nervousness. he holds your gaze and you forget how to breathe as he speaks. every syllable is serious, but you note his fingers fidgeting at his side. "I'm in love with you." 

it's like all the air in the room has been sucked out. you swallow, unsure of how to react at first. you don't believe what you're hearing, simply because it doesn't make sense. you've been friends for a while, now, but Spencer has never made a move to ask you out or acted like he wanted anything more. 

your heart swells. 

"you're in love with me?" the words even feel surreal on your tongue. he takes it as rejection.

"I shouldn't have said that, I'm sorry." Spencer rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands, his expression turning to a cringe. he's about to sit up to hide the red in his cheeks, but you pull him back down by the shoulder. 

"not so fast, crazy boy." the corners of your mouth are turning up into a grin. you can't help it; every nerve in your body is alive. Spencer loves you. he feels the same way. 

when he sinks back down onto the mattress and sighs, preparing to say something that rescinds the statement to erase any awkwardness, you grab his face and turn it to yours. you don't kiss him, only force him to look. 

"I'm in love with you, too." 

his eyebrows fly up in surprise. "r-really?"

"yes." you nod. 

he takes a second to process this. you see about five different expressions pass over his face, each one reminding you of how earnest he is. and it's absolutely adorable. 

"well, that's good, isn't it?" he clarifies. you pretend to think on it. 

"I'd say so, yeah." 

he smiles. a genuine, rare one that makes your veins feel as if they're full of glitter. you're on Cloud 9. 

"can I kiss you?" you ask him quietly. he seems surprised at this, too, like he never thought you'd want that, but then nods eagerly. 

you close the gap between you on the bed, holding his jaw in one hand while the other rests on his forearm. your lips meet softly at first. he's cautious, scared of pushing you away. he hasn't kissed many people before. but he's good at it, letting you take the lead. 

there's no way to adequately describe kissing Spencer. every bone in your body turns to mush, immediately craving more contact. you slide your tongue across his full bottom lip, and he lets you in. his affection is the most loved you've ever felt. because sure, you haven't had sex, but you've kissed people before. 

never like this. 

one of his hands goes up to wrap around your forearm tenderly before he shifts to lie on his side. you wrap around each other, turning the kiss into a full-body embrace as you breathe in. you want more. your leg swings over his torso so you can pull yourself closer, and he groans into your mouth when your pelvis presses against his. 

the kiss gets more heated, his hands carefully but hungrily traveling down the curve of your waist. you flip so that you're straddling him without breaking any contact. 

you don't really think about the way your hips begin to rock against his, your pussy involuntarily working for friction. there are so many happy chemicals in your brain right now, you giggle against his mouth when his body bucks up into yours. he groans. 

"Y/N..." he breathes softly. his hands move from your waist to your thighs, afraid to dig his fingertips in. 

"what?" you sigh, licking over his bottom lip again. he moans at the way you keep grinding on his erection. 

"I wanna--" his eyelashes flutter when he gasps. "I wanna touch you." 

"do it." your palm is resting tenderly against his cheek. he responds by finally holding you down, sliding his body up a bit to grind against your center. you whine. "touch whatever you want, Spencer." 

his cock twitches in his pants and you push the hem of his shirt up while he uses one hand to massage your tits. the voracious, curious nature of his attention makes you sigh, touching his stomach. he feels perfect beneath you. 

soon you're grabbing at each other without any regard for grace. he's so horny, he's pawing at whatever he can while you do the same to him. the kissing gives way to straight panting while you look at each other. 

"can I suck your dick?" you whisper. Spencer's eyes widen. you've never seen him nod so fast. 

you press your mouth to his one more time before inching down his body, sucking on his clavicle, then his stomach. careful to avoid the purple marks on his neck. he watches you intently, memorizing the details of this moment for later. when you reach the waistband of his pants, you peek up. he strains against the material. 

your mouth drops open and you draw your tongue over the clothed bulge, maintaining eye contact. Spencer throws his head back. his voice is high. "oh my god, oh my god." 

you smirk, licking it again. he clenches his jaw. "I'm gonna c-cum if you don't--" he tries for words, but he's mewling and moving against your mouth. you pull at his pants, hooking your fingers in his boxers and bringing them down, too. 

Spencer bucks into the air when his cock hits his stomach. it's big, precum leaking helplessly out of the tip while he whines. you want him now. 

"wow." you smile. he stares at you, tensing his stomach as you wrap your hand around his length. he's trying to keep quiet, but as soon as you spit on it and start to pump him, his head falls back into the pillow. 

you draw your tongue up the underside, paying special attention to the veins, reveling in his reactions. he looks like he's ascending to heaven when you start to suck on the first couple inches.  

"o-oh, fuck..." he keeps moving his hips off the bed for more, so you sink down further onto him, hollowing your cheeks and moaning. "Y/N..." 

you groan in response, feeling yourself get wetter with every sound he makes. you can't believe this is happening, the way he threads his fingers loosely through your hair in an attempt to touch more of you.

he tries to keep his eyes open while you suck, but they squint with pleasure. he's a mess for you, shuddering gently when you take nearly all of him into your mouth. 

before he can cum, you pull your mouth off of him with a satisfying pop. Spencer moans. 

"was that okay?" you ask carefully. this is the extent of your sexual experience, and you want to do more with him, but you aren't sure how he feels. your best friend stares back at you like you've turned his world upside down. 

"y-yeah," he replies. his face is flushed. "definitely okay."

he's throbbing, occasionally twitching against his stomach as he waits for more stimulation. you eye him carefully. 

"what do you feel comfortable doing?" your voice is smooth. "we can stop now, if you'd like." 

"I--" he chokes on the word. "I don't wanna stop." 

"do you want to have sex?" you ask. Spencer bites his lip, whines. 

"mhmm." 

"I wanna do that, too," you breathe out, straightening up and pulling your shirt over your head, unclasping your bra, before getting to work on your shorts. you know you're practically dripping. he's been more vocal, but you feel like you're going to implode from the desire. "but I need to tell you something." 

"what?" he tugs your arm, coaxing you back to him and touching you greedily. you giggle as you kick your shorts and panties off somewhere in the room. both of you move like awkward teenagers. 

"I'm a virgin." you say. 

Spencer frowns. "really?" 

"yeah," you lick your lips. "so you need to be careful." 

"o-of course." he blushes, getting nervous again. "you know I'm a virgin too, right?"

"I know." you smile. he returns it sweetly, and the commotion of your bodies slows for a moment. you're so happy, you could cry. 

"what?" he breaks the comfortable silence. 

"I'm excited," you shrug. he's got his hands on your waist, rubbing his fingertips over your skin. then you remember something. "wait, are you allowed to have sex with your... injury?" 

"it's fine." he reaches up and kisses your throat with an urgency. 

"did the doctor say that?" your eyes roll while he sucks on your neck. he groans and pulls down on your waist so that your stomach presses against his cock. he ruts. 

"second opinion from me." he pants. you tap his cheek playfully, move up his body until your core brushes him. he whimpers when you reach between your bodies and grip his length in your hands. 

"you ready?" your voice is low. Spencer squeezes your thighs, eyes moving between your tits and your face. 

"yes." he sighs. you position it, slicking him in your pussy while he wraps an arm around your waist and moans for more. your chests are pressed together, looking into each other's eyes while you slide him into you. 

you have to go slow, the intrusion causing your jaw to drop. you don't breathe. he's got his eyes rolled into the back of his head.  

"Spencer." you whimper, dropping your head onto his chest when he's fully inside of you. his fingers rub patiently over your back. 

"are you okay?" his voice is laced with a moan, trying to resist thrusting. 

"yeah, just a second." you wiggle a little bit to test the boundaries. it hurts, but it also feels good. your clit is begging for more pressure, so you start to roll your hips. Reid moans loudly. 

"Y/N..." he whimpers. "don't stop." 

"you want more?" the need in his voice makes you hornier, and you increase the pace, despite the slight pain. you're so wet, he slides in and out without much effort. 

"so-- much more." he's gasping, hands on your thighs as he watches your naked body writhe on top of him. he's never been more aroused in his life, spurred on by your scent and form and the tightness that keeps clenching around his cock.

he understands why people love sex so much, now. he wants it every day, wants to fuck you in every position and pleasure you. the sounds you release in his ear, whines and praises, he would do anything for more. walk to the ends of the earth to feel you cum on his cock. 

his hand finds your ass, squeezes it. 

"this feel good, Spence? fucking your best friend?" you talk dirty and he twitches. you're always so sweet, the words coming out of your mouth for him are going to send the genius into a tailspin. 

"mhmm," he holds you down so that he can thrust up. speaking at all is a struggle with the way he's feeling. "perfect." 

you start to say something else, but he hits a certain angle and you let out a quiet yelp, hips jumping at the pleasure. "I'm gonna cum." 

Spencer gets a rush of relief because it's taking everything in him right now not to absolutely lose it inside your pussy. he's hanging on by a thread. "me, too." 

you use your position on top to stimulate yourself. both of you chase your orgasms roughly, the rhythm you created degenerating into clawing excitement. 

"cum inside me, Spencer." you beg him. it sounds like you would do anything to feel it, that sensation that you've never experience but have always imagined. and Spencer, his own head foggy with ecstasy, nods and opens his mouth to let out a loud groan. 

"Y/N, fuck fuck fuck-- I'm--" he shoots his load inside of you, rutting wildly and letting his head drop onto the pillow while he pants. you can feel it. strange, lovely jolts of his seed spreading. your hands, which have been resting on his shoulders, tighten and you reach your climax. you flutter around him, both of you still moving to ease the intensity of the high. 

it's remarkable. you're crying out, having the most mind-blowing orgasm of your life. you never thought your first time would be like this. but you're glad it is, muscles tightening and releasing with the mixture of emotions. 

you collapse fully, him still inside. 

neither of you speaks. his heartbeat thuds against your ear, and you hold onto him like letting go would be the end of the world. you can't believe you could have lost him. you don't want to think about it. 

"sorry I came so fast." Spencer apologizes breathlessly. you can feel his cum dripping down your entrance when he slides out. 

"I don't care." you mumble. both of you stay there for a while, his heartbeat changing to a pace that reminds you of genuine excitement. like a hummingbird. 

"we can try again, sometime." he offers. you lift your head to rest your chin on his chest. his skin is flushed, pupils dilated, hair messy. such a pretty boy. 

"we should try multiple times." 

he gives you a cheerful smile, and everything starts to fall into place. you took each other's virginity. "Y/N?" 

he likes to say your name, and you love to hear it. "yes?" 

"are we dating?" the bluntness of the question makes you giggle. you don't hesitate. 

"yeah." 

“good.”

taglist (lmk if you wanna be added/removed!): @reidsconverse @voidsfilm @xoxomgg​ 

[spikesbimbo]

Drunk in Love

Summary:  Getting drunk and confessing your love for your “boy” friend and fucking him was most definitely not what you expected to go down on the usual night.

Pairing: Issei Matusukawa x Reader

Tags: Timeskip!Tattoed Mattsun, softdom!issei Hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, smut, fluff, virgin!reader, Unptrotected sex, non-penetrative sex, fingering, oral, pussy/thigh job, clit slapping, sweet dirty talk, praise, drunk sex

Word count: 7.2k

A/N: I heard pussy job and I wrote a whole ass novel

18+ Minors DNI

You run your finger over the condensation of your empty drink, drawing shapes (or what you thought to be shapes, you couldn’t tell at this point) waiting for your dear friend, Makki to bring you a refill of your cocktail.  

“Here ya go.” Makki said as he returned with your beloved Malibu Sunset. The smooth coconut rum bringing you back to your first and favorite drink that you ever got drunk on in high school. You smiling at the memory

“Thanks.” you say. Your reply being mumbled by the liquid already in your mouth.

This all started with Iwaizumi calling Mattsun up, you and Makki hearing “You wanna get wasted?” on the other side of the phone. And with pleasure, you two were already packing your stuff up, shoving yalls “pregame” bottles back in the bag. The three of you made your happy way there climbing through the fence of the abandoned skate park you were in. Needles to say it was abandoned for a reason, but what’s life without a little danger.

You three and the rest of the third years have been friends since high school, meeting in freshman year, and now including Oikawa’s girlfriend. You actually didn’t like Oikawa at first, his “pretty boy” demeanor making you internally cringe. But his personality grew quickly on you, being the perfect target to tease you and Iwa clowning him over everything.

Now back to you on your nth drink, complaining about your previous job that fired you because u got injured, even though you know you wouldn’t have lasted long there anyways because you weren’t that academically inclined. Bright? Whatever you wanted to call it.

And as-usual it wasn’t long before your crybaby ass immediately called Makki and Issei and “tried” your best to tell them what happed with your dramatic self-induced tears running down you race, while Makki urged to you to try to calm down and Issei straight up laughing at the state your were in, snot running out of your nose. You recoiling at the thought, hoping they forgot. (Spoiler, they didn’t)

But now you nanny for a rich couple and you get payed good to play with cute babies all day, sounds good to you! Luckily, you had the week off due to them going on a vacation, you think it was France, no, the south of France. Must be nice.

Cue to now, Mattsun chuckling and leaning on you and Iwaizumi; both of you, especially Iwa, being visibly done with his shit. Him reminding you about the times you bought him some random shit, which you went out of your way for since he always payed for you, like that chopper keychain because you said it reminder you of him.

He didn’t know what compelled you to say his 6’2, tattooed built self looked like a tiny reindeer but okay. It still meant a lot to him, hooking it onto his motorcycle keys. But you knew he appreciated it, despite his appearance he’s a softie.

“You wanna try this’” He says gaining his composure offering you one of the shots he got.

You took one of the mini glasses, not being the type to back down and promptly swung the drink to the back of your mouth, quickly coughing before it even reached your throat.

“This shit is fucking gross.” You coughed out bringing the glass down from your lips.

  “Imagine being sober. Can’t relate.” He said taking another shot.

  “I guess I should do that but ive passed the point of giving a fuck” You said sending yall into a giggling fit while somehow Makki was thrown in to support yall from falling over. You two carry on laughing ignoring everyone’s stares at you thinking about how much yall fit perfectly together.  

   Makki rearranges himself to sit back in his chair, far away, from the both of you, whispering “Damn. I’m really third wheeling.” under his breath. Getting a snicker out of Oikawa sitting next to him.

   “When your best friends are ignoring you. Sad times.” He continues bringing his bottle to his mouth getting no response.

  Issei chuckles and gets up shoving his hands in his pocket reaching for the cigarettes. Pulling them out while failing to find his lighter

  “Fuck.” He muttered

  “Any’all got a light?”

  No one responds so you sacrifice yourself “Yeah” you say reaching into your pocket grabbing out your prized possession of a hot pink, bedazzled lighter that you did yourself, reaching out to hand it to him.

  “Don’t lose it” you stated seriously trying not to break a smile.

  “K’ sweet cheeks.” He said smirking into the butt between his lips as he walked away. Your face now burning up, hoping that everyone would think it was because of the alcohol.

  You mind wanders, thinking about the “dates” you two go on, from watching shows you “forcing” him to watch some romantic anime, to going to the skatepark, to playing video games with the rest of the 3rd years (which you don’t really like but you’ll play for him) and him surprising you with takeout, you bringing out candles trying your best to make it cute with him telling u everything you everything about his day.

  And you always tried to remain calm, even though sometimes he deserved to get his ass beat, like that one time he broke one of your favorite pair of heels. It honestly hurt him even more, he wanted you to get mad at him but no, you just acted like nothing happened. Making the guilt rise in him. Let’s just say didn’t have to lift a finger for the next few weeks.

You basically babied him, taking care of all his “chores”, mainly making him food when you were at his place knowing he hated doing it. Makki teasing you for acting like his housewife, leading to you slapping the shit outta him while trying to cover your now red cheeks.

You’ve never been so grateful for your attire at the moment, blessing yourself for not wearing your usual outfits of short skirts and cute tops, defending yourself saying what housewife dresses in beat up vans and baggy clothes. You definitely not imaging yourself in that position for the rest of the day.

 You expressed that you just liked to take care of people, which was true. You always looked out for them, bringing an extra umbrella, to bringing cookies you made at 2 in the morning to school, always carrying band-aids (yes, the paw patrol ones you took from the kids you babysit).

You checked the time on your phone seeing it was late since the sun at last went down, your lock screen being your dogs to their complaint since they have a group photos of you all from high school as theirs. To which you replied “They’re my babies” getting a groan and huff out of them.

  Seeing the notifications of your group chat you grinned at the contact name you and Issei gave each other; yall jokingly call each other pet names, his contact being honeybun and yours being pumpkin, even including Makki in your contacts as pudding bc then it wasn’t weird, right? no.

  “What’re you smiling at y/n?” Oikawa cheekily asks teasing you. You turn to him giving him a dirty look, not having enough energy to deal him right now.

  “Don’t listen to his bullshit.” Oikawa’s girlfriend says. You’re thankful for her. She was always on your side, being the only other girl in your friend group. To be honest you just wanted her and you to hang out most of the time, but of course to your disapproval her boyfriend and his friends had to join in.

  “Fuck this. Fuck you. I’m sleeping.” You say getting up to her objection, the only thing on your mind wanting to retire for the night.

  “You sure you’ll be fine? Let us at least walk you home.” She said already grabbing her boyfriend’s arm.

  “Nah, im good. I live right down the road.” You try to say not slurring. The last thing you want is him teasing you even more, especially in this state, knowing you, you’d probably start crying at the slightest irritation when youre this drunk.

    You started to “walk” towards your house resting  your hand against the brick walls to not lose your balance, leading you to run into Issei. You stopped to watch him lean against the alley holding a cigarette between his index and middle finger.

  “I’m hiding like a bitch” He says noticing you, resting his weight against the wall.

 “Wanna be a bitch with me? He grinned  blowing out the smoke out with his words.

You didn’t reply, just walking over to him, just being around him made you feel warm.

"Fuck its windy.” He says trying to light a new cig.

“C’you make me a house?” He asks.

You go up and put your hands around his cigarette, this not being your first time. Your hands wrap a little tighter to prevent the wind from burning out his flame. He joins you with his free hand helping, finally getting his cig to light.

 “Thanks doll” He smirks.

“No problem princess.” You reply earning a laugh out of him.

He takes his first hit with his and your hands still wrapped around it. He gets an up-close look at your hands, noticing how tiny they were, seeing all the scars that he never noticed, making a mental note to ask you how you got them later.

His head gets close to yours for the first time in a while due to his height. You glance at his face, noticing his features seeing some stubble growing on his face.

“You ain’t shave?” You ask, never seeing it in the past, while he was moving back up, blowing the smoke away from you.

“What, you don’t like my majestic beard? “He jokes. Making you giggle almost losing your balance before catching yourself on the wall.

  “s’too much work.” He starts. “You wanna shave it for me?” he says slightly leaning towards you. Handing you back your lighter knowing you didn’t need him to carry it because your pants actually had pockets in them for once.

You let out a soft laugh not responding again. He catches on, you got quiet when you were tired and he made out that you were walking towards your house.

“You going home?” he asks already knowing the answer.

“Yeah.” You respond more than happy to have him walk you back, him already moving to walk next to you.

He walks you home, you two talking about random shit, both of you forgetting about your skateboards leaving Makki to deal with them. And even though you’re drunk as fuck you’re still in the right state of mind, carrying a normal conversation with him. But just because you’ve built a tolerance doesn’t mean you can do basic tasks, like walk correctly.

When he reaches your house, he types in the keycode, your first dogs birthday, being glad that you, him and Makki have each other’s memorized.

He leads you into you house setting you on the couch, petting your dogs that ran up to him.

“Mommy’s not feeling too good” He said giving them the affection they deserved.

“Yes I am.” You slurred getting them attention on you now.

He walked over to your counter putting on the playlist that you two made together on shuffle, High fashion being the first to play. You didn’t like when it was quiet because too many thoughts would run though your head. You were in no way sad, singing the lyrics while you were laughing barely being able to hold yourself up as proof.

Remembering you were tired, he takes you off the couch and borderline carries you to your room, , setting you on your plush blankets that you had so many of because it was warm and comfy.

 “Easy, there. Try to sit up.”He said, trying to ask you what draws your pj’s were in because he didn’t want to snoop around; neither of you being bothered that you were half naked, what’s the difference between panties and a bikini, he thought remembering the times you’ve been to the beach together.  

Well it was maybe the fact that you were clinging onto him because u stumbled into him and he was closest stable thing around and you wouldn’t let go because it was cold and you couldn’t stop shaking.

 He ignores his thoughts and grabs the shirt he got out figuring you don’t need to change your bra because you told him and Makki that it was normal to keep it on for a few days after they were in awe as you were explaining how expensive they were. You calling Oikawa’s girlfriend to prove your point as she immediately agreed with you…Sometimes you might have got a little too comfortable with them.

You hear the song in the background change to Love Songs, you humming along, “Hope you smile when you listen.”

You were still holding on to him, your boobs squeezing against him, him only being able to put a t-shirt on you, while you looked up at him with your red glossy eyes making him burn up.  

You fidget timidly with your face now in his chest while gripping his sweater. Trying to build up the little courage you had. He tilts your head up making you look at him, wondering what you were thinking about.

  You try to express yourself, but you can’t get the words out him having no idea what is going on in your head at the moment.

“It’s okay to be nervous sometimes. Tell me” He gently says reading your body language. He was intuitive, so there was no way you could hide your feelings from him.

But you knew you could trust him, him having full self-control, always staying collected and following through on what he said he’d do.  He went out of his way to avoid any friction coming between you two, him never raising his voice or starting an argument.

“We need to talk.” You started. “About something important.”

“Ok…What is it?” He questioned rubbing his hands on your back. You were so nervous, were you really about to say this? Confess your feelings that you’ve pushed to the back of your heart for so long?

“I… I l… I love your face. And the stuff in it. and around it.” You spoke, being surprised you did it stutter.

He stood there, hands stopped moving trying to process what you just said.

“Just you, in general…”  You finally confess trying to state three things at once barely getting your words out.

But he understood exactly what you meant, or maybe he was warping what you said to fit what he wanted.

  "I don’t even know when I started liking you, but this shit won't go away." You restated

  Nope. He clearly just heard you say that.

  He doesn’t understand what’s so different about today. Yall have been in this scenario multiple times taking care of each other, sometimes including another into the mix.  

You didn’t understand either. You just felt like the time was right, even though you know it wasn’t the best idea to confess while you were drunk off your ass.

But you couldn’t help it, your feelings overflowing, which you never until this day let get the best of you, being vulnerable and trusting is not your usual . Youve never even had a crush on anyone, him being to only in your whole life to make you blush.

  Who you been vibin' wit and why I can't make you mine?

  You should have seen the signs that you feel for him when he helped that lady that lives down the street from him set up her Christmas lights or when he first met your dog that wasn’t fond of men, but it instantly liked him. And you loved his selflessness it was something you admired and applauded.

  “y/n” He tries talking you down, making sure you weren’t just saying this because of alcohol, deep down knowing he felt the same, you always being in the back of his mind.

You were generous with your time too, always being there for him. You knew he was softer than he appeared, he was tender, sensitive and vulnerable. He tried his hardest to not get into situations where anyone would get hurt, like breakups, arguments, and so on.

Which is why he won’t make the first move. He pushes his feelings to the back of his head. He values your friendship more than anything, but he can see what develops. If love is meant to be, it will happen.

I told you I am down for the worse or the better. But I keep sticking to you cause them four stupid letters

    “You make me so happy. And I’ll always care about you. Okay? He says breaking the silence, trying to reassure you.  

  “You mean so much to me—something I can’t even put into words because nothing can compare- I’ve wanted you since that day you tripped and bust your ass in the school hallway I still want you even though you drive me insane.”

  “Iss-“ You tried to get out only to have him continue talking over you.

  "I love that you can’t leave the house without a jacket. I love the wrinkles that appear on your forehead after you call me crazy. I love that it takes you hours to get ready. I love that you always know how to make me feel better. I love that even when you don’t agree with my decisions you always trust me to make them.  I love that when I spend a day with you, I can still smell you on my clothes; and I love that you are the last person I think of  before I go to sleep at night."

  You stood there awestruck for what feels like eternity until you mustered the bravery to speak “I didn’t expect you to feel the same way-” You said, being dumbfounded because from what you’ve seen treats everyone “nice”, were you really getting special treatment?

  He tilts your chin up, locking his dark eyes with yours. “Baby I don’t know if your notice but you and Makki are my only people that aren’t my family that call me my first name.”

He has a point. You think pushing yourself more into him, trying to fuse your bodies together to hide, not relaxing what you were doing to him. He tries to nudge your legs to the side but you won’t let go still clinging onto him.

“fuck” He groans. You pulling back wondering why until you looked down and noticed. A smirk appeared on your face as you reattached your self to him like velcro. You were feeling bold, the liquid courage still in your system driving you to slide your fingers down his chest, looking him in the eyes before stopping at his waistband.  

He knows what you’re doing, him being in this position multiple times. Does he really want to ruin your friendship like this? He hasn’t even asked you to be his girlfriend. He tries to push you off him already knowing you were gonna complain. But what he didn’t expect was for you to whimper out his name in that pretty voice of yours.

 He tried to keep his calm, blood already rushing down. “You know what you’re doing”

“yeah” You start.

“y’don’t want me?” Giving him your pouty face that you know he’s weak for, hoping that’ll work, insecurity piling up. Was it because your boobs weren’t that big or that fact that you were dressed like man? Was he not attracted to you right now, only liking you when you were dolled up?

“Fuck” You think. You should have worn something cute instead of dressing like a whole ass man even with your makeup fully done. Its not like you were supposed to know you were gonna get fucked today.

His were burning holes into you now, thinking of how to say “No, I would be more that happy to fuck you!” to his best friend, soon regaining his consciousness finally speaking.

“Fuck no doll, ive wanted you for a minute. You know me better than I know myself. How did you not notice my feelings?”

 You got me singing love songs, love songs, love songs

“You’re really hard to read” You replied trying to maintain your seductive act, resting your hands back on his chest.

“So are you.” He said lowering his head, you still looking up at him, taking in your gleaming eyes.

Sex ain't the only thing that's on my mind But you get me so excited, whoa

Your heart was beating so wildly that you could only take little sips of breath. His hands running down your waist stopping at your hips.

“Can I kiss you?" He asks "...yeah” you attempted to say as confidently as you could, nodding your head along with it.

His face bent down, hot mouth breathing over you. His lips slowly moved, brushing over yours, the liquor on his lips that you hated; only choosing fruity drinks even though you got relentlessly teased you for it.  You pushed further into the kiss desperately wanting more. Your teeth clicking his from being impatient, wanting to suck him in. Your hands sliding under his shirt subconscious desires reaching out.

Irreplaceable Tattoos from your neck that drop down to your ankles

“You’re drunk…” he says snapping you out of your trance.

“So are you.”

He dove in for another kiss much more passionate than the previous one, arguably needy, pusing you on the bed to which you more than happily comply. He tugs back not letting his mind get the best of him, disconnecting your spit trial leaving you panting. “You sure this alright?” He says deep down hoping you still say yes.

  You pull him back for your answer, your grabby little hands working their way back up his shirt. He gets the hint and pauses your lips rendezvous, taking off the turtleneck that he looked oh so good in, before seeing his unclothed body.  You’re admiring his body in a new way, before just complimenting him whenever he got a new tattoo, now up under him tracing them like a lovestruck teenager.

“When did you get this one?” You quietly ask, his ears closer to you than they’ve ever been.

“I got it that day you faked sick”

“What! You said were gonna take me!” You sulked, turning your head away from his as much as you could, crossing your arms.

He let out a slight laugh before gently taking your face in his hands, guiding you back into the kiss.

This is not really what he imagined for your first time. He’s an old-fashioned romantic who likes to take one step at a time. But then again nothing was ever normal with you. That said, when he falls in love, he falls deep.

“You’ve done this before?” You uttered.

“Hmm?” He mumbles, unmoving his lips from you kissing you, moving towards your neck.

“You still with that other girl?”

“No. I broke it off her, everything that came out of her mouth was bullshit, and no she wasn’t my girlfriend.”

“You didn’t trust her? You added. Trying to distract him until you could think of a way you could say “hey in my 21 years of life I’ve never got passed kissing a guy.”

“Our relationship was purely built on lies, I’d second guess everything she said. He replied, wondering if you were interrogating him.

“Why’d you wanna know?” He asked bringing his face up from your skin.

“…No one’s ever touched me like this, fuck.” You bashfully admitted, thoughts racing through your head that he didn’t want you anymore because you weren’t experienced.

But he knew what was running through that pretty head of yours, his fingers reaching out to with your hair trying to comfort you.

“You’re a virgin?” He curiously asked dragging his hand to your cheek, you leaning into it.

“y-yeah” you muttered trying to move your eyes away from his looking down at his body.

“I thought you had a boyfriend before” he said, softly turning your jaw to make you look at him. Your eyes diverted from his arms back to his eyes.

“We weren’t actually dating” You quickly say trying to clear up the misunderstanding. “He was my friend and seatmate that pretended to be my fake boyfriend to get me out of some trouble” you spewed out “and I guess I forgot to tell everyone that it was fake.”

“Even if we were that doesn’t mean we fucked.” You sheepishly replied.

“So… what trouble did your fake boyfriend get you out of.” He questioned knowing how much trouble it must have been for you, miss independent, to go to such lengths.

“Umm, well…this guy wouldn’t stop flirting with me even after I told him I don’t like him, even following me to my other classes.”

He wasn’t surprised, you were definitely a sight for sore eyes, in fact the prettiest thing he’s laid his eyes on, your beaming eyes, your dimple when you smiled, your pretty face, your “ugly” laugh, he could go on for days.

“Why are we talking about this” You whined, reaching your hand back out to him.

He took a hint and continued kissing you, bringing you closer to him while you attempted to take you shirt off. His hands helping you seeing as that you were struggling, being lost in his touch, finishing by moving you up more on you bed, pushing your plushies out of the way, to your protested because “they had feelings too.”

He ignored you, bending down to pull your panties off stopping once he saw the slick coming through them.

“Fuck baby you’re wet” He breathed dragging his fingers across your clothed slit earing a whimper from you, leaving his fingers drenched.

 Shawty, you wanna feel good, I wanna feel good too Don't I make you feel good?

“M’always wet.” you responded.

From what? He questions taking off your soaked cotton panties, tossing them to the side.

“From me?” He smirks bringing his hand back towards your heat. You not even comprehending what he just said, just knowing that you’re ashamed of how worked up you were getting.

You were in awe. You’ve always known his hands were big, but in this situation your mind wondered. His fingers were so much bigger than yours knowing you can barely fit two inside your with out it hurting, and not in a good way.

“Do you know how pretty you are? It’s honestly distracting.”. He says kissing down your whole body, stopping at your breasts, licking lazily around and coming back to the nub. The attention on your nipples making you squirm and he finally lets go, you grateful that he stopped or you would have almost cum, how embarrassing.

“I thought you said were gonna get them pierced” He remembered, you going on a whole rant about how cute they were.

“You said u were gnna get em with me” You looked back on, reminding yourself making him promise to get them with you because you were too scared of the pain.

“That was the same day you played sick and I got that tattoo.” He stated lightening the mood, hoping you can calm yourself down before you actually embarrass yourself.

He picks back up and continues kissing all the way down your body, you playing with his hair while biting your lip to muffle your moans and whine until he reaches your entrance.

He parted your legs, your pussy laid out before him, believing you no have reason to be shy about it either. He paused, admiring your swollen cunt and puffy clit, you were beautiful.

The feeling that he didn't want anyone else ever in his position overtook him. He let out a little breath on your clit and you thrashed around. He wasn't going to play. “I’ll take care of you.”

His lips travel over your skin, light and heated before settling himself between your legs, grabbing you by your thighs and dragging you closer. “That tickles.” you giggle, nerves making you kick your legs, almost hitting him in the face before he grabs them. He puts them down locking your legs with his arms, lowering himself until he’s on the ground facing you.

“Does it make you nervous when I stare?” he teases while your covering your face trying to hide the blush he caused.  He puts his mouth on you, quickly gripping your thighs, his hands leaving imprints in your skin dragging you even more into him, deprived kisses taking over your body. 

“yer so pretty” You purred seeing the sight of his big build between your legs, your fingers grabbing onto his curly dark locks, tugging them.

  Issei moans, his voice radiating through your body, forcing out a cry, blessing him with your pretty voice. “I-Issei!” You cry, never feeling like this before, your vibrator and hands doing it no justice.

“Shh, just look at me, doll.”

You can barely make out what he says, so drunk on pleasure. You try your best, doing anything to see the pretty man beneath you. But you get interrupted by your pleasure, your back arching not being able to control your body, grinding down to meet his lips, heat rising in you.

He kisses through your wetness playing with your bud. You choking on your spit, back arching again your body tensing up. “Issei,” You beg, grabbing him knowing what you want but not being able to express it. Luckily he can read you like an open book, knowing what you want, driving you over the edge as he makes you see stars. “Good girl,” he sighs when he feels you let go of his wrist letting him bring you your first orgasm.

“Look at your thighs shaking so much.” He teasingly cooed, wrapping his hands around them, bringing you out of your daze.

Shawty, your body is so exciting

Arching your back into the blankets, letting out a whine “Want your fingers.”.

He lets out a condescending laugh. “You need to learn to be patient. You just came and you’re already so eager for more?”

But by the time he finished your body went limp, you were totally weak, body loose-limbed and pliant. Your mind clouded by lust and deep in your own world. You gasped out a little sob, unable to comprehend anything beyond the discomfort and the need to have it gone. You can’t think straight all you can do is take action, grabbing his arm him easing his fingers into to you.

It’s not too tight, is it?” you ask clenching around his fingers.

 “Just relax… let yourself feel it” He says barely being able to move in you. Fuck so were so tight.

“I love the way you look with my fingers inside you.” He added starting to thrust them inside you, making you let out a string of moans.

“Look how good you take it.”  

“Fuck, you’re so messy.” He groaned feeling the slick running down his hands, before taking them out.

“Issei-i,” You cried when he pulled away, pleasure leaving you, tears coming back.

  He shushes you easily, his fingers wiping your tears. You were so precious to him, your moans music to his ears.  He slows down repositioning his fingers, making you let out a whimper squeezing around them. Your brains so crowded you can’t focus, can’t gather the strength to speak when he thrust them faster inside you.

  Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you fell back, fingers curling inside you, chanting his name over and over, incoherent words coming out of your mouth begging for more. 

You pussy tightens as you cum, unable to breath, letting out gasps and whines. Him still fucking you, fingers not stopping, pushing them in and out relentlessly feeling both pain and pleasure. You lay there, wet in your own cum not giving yourself a break before you went and got what you really wanted, his cock.

His eyes followed the movement of your hands as they pushed down his boxers, revealing the length of his cock, that jutted proudly from his hips. He was so pretty, so virile and handsome. Wondering how lucky you were to be in such a position with him.

You pushed away those thoughts and focused on him, pulling him forward gently, but he followed his encouragement. One of his hands tilted his cock down toward your lips. “Open your mouth for me, baby.”

You parted them instantly, tongue sliding slightly outward, and then you whimpered as the warm weight of his cock slid into your mouth. You let your eyes flutter closed and swirled your tongue around the tip of his cock not knowing exactly what you were doing, but it was working, tasting the salty tang of the precum that wept from his leaking slit. You moved your tongue as the he put his hand into your hair, gripping the strands and pushing deeper into his mouth.

“You look so good on your knees like that. “He says meeting your eyes once again, almost cumming from the picture below him.

“Slowly, baby, I’m not going anywhere.” He says slowing you down by grabbing your hair, making a pace that you follow.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby, just like that.” Seeing that sinful look in your eyes with your redden swollen lips.

You moan feeling yourself drip down your thighs, getting even wetter giving him head. Trying to ease the discomfort by closing your legs, griding them together, trying to find some friction. Your ears hearing “That’s so fucking hot.” watching the scene unfold beneath him.

Your jaw hurts, trying got make him cum faster using your hands and lips together hollowing your cheeks. “Oh fuck, oh, Jesus, fuck yes, there, just like that, fucking Christ" he groans out, his voice sounded beautiful to your ears, knowing he was about to cum.

He finally lets go cumming in your mouth, you swallowing it all, trying not to wince at the taste. “Did I do good” You ask waiting for his reply. Your doll eyes, so red and worn out looking up at him for approval. Fuck he was whipped.

“Yeah…fuck baby”

I love when you get on top and you ride it

You get back under him, his cock resting on you, drenched and clenching around nothing, resting in your cum. You working yourself up against him.

“What makes you think I’m going to fuck you?” He says to your complaint.

“You’re not ready yet.” he mumbles against your whining. Spreading your legs, slapping your clit a few times before letting his cock rest on your folds. Finally getting “seated” he picks up your legs and puts them both on one of his shoulders your thighs warming his cock, your knees touching his cheek not moving, getting a kick out of how desperate your were for him.

“s-stop being mean” You cried reaching out for him to come closer, needing affection after all you’ve been though.

“Aww, poor baby, you want me to take care of it for you? He says leaning into you, reaching your kiss, tasting the remnants of the cum in your mouth.

He plundered your mouth and slowly teased his cock over your entrance, catching it against your clit and making you whimper into the kiss, clearly wanting to be fucked. Your kiss turned you sucking on Issei’s tongue and lips, biting the swollen pout until his lips were red and puffy. He pulled back and looked down at you, a beautiful mess under him.

His fat cock head pushed between your folds. The moan escaping both of your lips was primal. You were turned on beyond imagination and the way he was thrusting forward, spreading his leaking precum on your wet clit was almost too much. He quickly picked up his pace fucking your folds, his warm head brushing against your clit with every movement, but your greedy self wanted more.

The fact that he made you cum so easily made you proud. Just because you’ve never gone this far with someone else doesn’t mean you’ve never cum, you’ve had a lot of practice over the years, being insatiable, the sheets soaked underneath you from your previous orgasms being proof.

“Keep your eyes open, look at me, baby.” He moans getting your attention him.

You tried, you really tried, but the way he was stroking you, imagining what it’d be like to actually sit on his cock, the lewd sounds echoing in the background leaving you unable to focus.

He taps on your cheek eventually getting you look at him, keeping your mind on him by placing his fingers in your mouth you letting him, hazily sucking on them, not being able to close your mouth.

“Oh, baby, you’re drooling everywhere.” He grumbles. Your spit dripping onto his fingers, the friction of your thighs making him feral, moving at an even faster pace. Your body bouncing with every thrust.

“You gonna cum after I cum on your little clit? Come one more time for me, I know you’ve got it in you.” You sob feeling the puddle beneath you, time slowing, fire pooling in your tummy.  Listening to his words you let yourself go. You come with a silent scream as the pleasure ripped through your body, your nails scratching his soft skin. Your vison fading to black feeling him lose his rhythm and moaning a mixture of curse words along with your name, feeling him cum on your tummy before resting his head in your neck while letting your legs go.

“So good for me, look at how much you came.” He says breaking the static. You whining into his shoulder, emotions high, never doing this before.

“I know, baby, I know. I’m right here, just breathe.” He says. You two laying in silence for an unclear amount of time, him rubbing your back while you rest in his chest almost dozing off.

“Are we still…friends?” You croak out trying to hold back your sobs already knowing the answer that you two were defiantly not friends now and never would be just friends again.

“Friends don’t do this type of shit” He maintained grabbing your shoulders to sit you and him up. You were worried, did he only do this with you because he was drunk? You were anxious that you scared him away because you just poured your heart out to him and pushed yourself on him. You left your head down, tears already coming out to your dismay. You moved your hand up to wipe them but he beat you to it.

“Look at me… I love you.” He says holding your cheeks in his palm. You in awe, hoping that you weren’t imagining it, that this was real life.

“R-really” You question making him worry too, preferring to forgive and forget rather than letting this a divide between the two of you in case you went back on your feelings. You were so overwhelmed, never feeling love until this moment, so happy that the person you longed for liked you back. Yours tears running once again.

 “Shh, shh, it’s alright...Don’t cry.”

You don’t even know why you were crying, the hangover already getting to you making you get a headache. You groaning in his arms complaining that your head and throat hurt.

“Ill be back” he says detaching himself from you, letting you know he was coming right back.

He walks to your fridge opening it to see every drink but water, having too dig through all of them, especially the absurd amount of apple juice guessing it was your “once a year craving for it”. He finally got you some cold water, putting It in a cup and waked back to your room.

  “Issei” you whined not picking your head up from the pillow.

  “Shh baby im right here.”

  He sat down beside you on your bed lifting your head up. “Here drink this” he reassured, to which you ignored not wanting anything to go in your mouth, just wanting the day, or night as it was now, to end.

  “It’s just water, honey, look.” You sat yourself up with his help seeing him in just his boxers, you remembering your still naked, not caring enough to cover yourself. He held to glass to your mouth, babying you, tilting it far back enough to where you could drink it. The water hit the back of your mouth feeling like a shot making you cough.

“I know, it hurts. I’m sorry but we have to” He stated. You continued to drink it, feeling the stinging in the back of your throat, him comforting you, calling you “good girl” which was unsurprisingly working.

  He put the cup on your dresser when you finished, climbing back into bed with you leaning your body into his. “Have you ever thought about...us? Y’know, as an...item?” he said causing you to look at him with wide eyes.

 “Call me selfish, but I don’t ever want anyone else to touch you.” He insisted making you cheeks flush. You try to think of a way to respond, not wanting to keep him waiting.

“You’re the best thing that has, and ever will, happen to me. Not only am I deeply in love with you, you’re my best friend.” You stammer out, your shaky hands somehow made there way to his neck, letting them fall slowly before he grabs them dragging you in for a kiss before you got to even see his face.

“Everybody has always thought we’re a couple.” He continued taking his time kissing you all over your face. “Then I guess we should be.” You retort, kissing him back before you could see his reaction, not wanted to be embarrassed anymore today. But he caught you, holding you still “Really “y/n? Like deadass?” He asked.

  “Yes dummy, I want to be your girlfriend” You say causing him to grin swearing you’ve never seen him smile that big, before he gives you one last kiss.

  “I always kiss you on the cheek, why are you blushing now? He teases laying back down, you following along. You just snuggle into him mumbling something along the lines of “m’tired”, he understanding and speaking to you in a soft, gentle voice while helping you to bed, so he doesn’t make it harder for you to sleep by being loud. “I’m here love, I’m not going anywhere.” He whispers into your ear mkanig your heart swoon one last time before you pass out.

  “I l-love you issei.” You sleepily mumble.

“Tell me this when you’re sober.” He says stroking your head.

“Just relax, close your eyes...”He murmurs, your heart beating slower every second. Both of you together, lazy, slow presses. Limbs pressed together, chests heaving, fingers trailing down backs, tracing lazy patterns.

  “Oh!…” He remembers. “If you really wanna get them pierced, we could get matching ones.”

© all content belongs to spikesbimbo. do not alter or repost .

[roniscloud]

lhs - runnin’

lee heeseung [a. + f. 4700 words] runnin’

to you

you came up on some new

i know i shouldn’t feel blue

‘cause i was runnin’ out of time for you

synopsis: you met heeseung in your freshman year of college and immediately hit it off. you’ve made it to your third year and when everyone including yourselves thought that you were each other’s endgame, the devastation when you two split was immeasurable. you both know there’s still love between you. this break allows you both to realize new things. can you two find your ways back to each other? will this be the final goodbye?

genre + tropes: angst. fluff. comedy. college!au. establishedrelationship!au. exes!au.

warnings: fem reader. swearing. arguing. nosy friends. cold heeseung and cold reader. drifting relationship. interventions. slight suggestive themes but it’s only mentioned like once. they both pine over each other. mentions of alcohol and binge drinking. maybe not a happy ending. if you choose to see it that way. whoops. appearances of the rest of enha plus txt yeonjun and soobin.

i.  the break

“so this is how it’s gonna end? i thought we were doing fine.”

heeseung erupts into an even angrier fit, “are you kidding me? we are not fucking fine. in what world is this fine? tell me!”

you scoff from where you stand cross-armed on the other side of the bedroom. “well, can you really blame me? it’s hard to see if there’s something wrong if we never see each other.”

“exactly my point! we don’t see each other.”

the two of you have been at each other’s throats since heeseung showed up at your apartment. you have no idea how long ago that was or when the argument started. all you remember is coming up to him when he arrived, wanting to actually spend some time with him. instead he shrugged you off and ignored you, blaming the fatigue. the rest has been a blur. one of you made an offhand comment and now here you are: frustrated and in another fight.

a quick recap: you two met at a mutual friend’s party. you thought that each other was attractive and he ended up asking you out. from there you kept going out, fell in love, dated, and everyone thought you were perfect together. three years later and it’s getting tiring. life has been draining trying to balance it all.

“and who’s fault is that?”

annoyed, he snaps back, “oh please, you can not put the blame solely on me.”

“bullshit. i sure can when i’m the only one making an effort here. i’ve actually been trying to save us. you, on the other hand…” you pause again, rolling your eyes, “well, we both know just how much you care.”

his jaw drops, defensively he spits back, “are you genuinely implying that i don’t care about you? about us? that’s rich.”

you move to sit on the edge of the bed, staring at a single spot on the floor. you can see the shadow of heeseing pacing back and forth. you sit there, not looking at each other. the only sounds to be heard are his footsteps and the heavy sighs from you. you think back to the last several weeks. you recall each of the times you have been able to see each other. there’s no substance, nothing memorable. the only thing that comes to mind is that you always end up not talking at all or arguing.

just like right now.

“be real, heesung. when was the last time we went on a date? when was the last time you stayed the night without it ending up with you just knocking out? when was the last time we actually sat down and had a conversation? be honest because i will. i can’t remember.”

“and yet you thought we were fine?”

“well it’s better to believe a good lie than face the hurtful truth. i’m trying to save this relationship. i’m trying all the fucking time and you don’t do shit.”

he spits back frustrated, “well maybe that’s because there’s nothing to be saved.”

“are you kidding me right now? am i supposed to be scared? you tell me that there’s nothing to be saved and expect me to just give up?”

“sorry but i’m not running from this anymore.”

“you’re not sorry and we both know it.” you push yourself back up to stand, resting your hands on your hips, “you can’t say you’re sorry and expect me to forgive you. that’s not how this works.”

“this isn’t what i wanted to happen. this isn’t how it was supposed to go.”

“then make it work.”

“i- i can’t,” he holds his hands over his face, running one through his hair, “it’s too much.”

“so what? what do you mean?”

he finally stops. he takes a deep breath and lets it all out, “i just can’t see this working anymore, at least not like this.”

ii. week one

you thought this would be more difficult. that this would be the hardest pill to swallow. the first week apart may actually be the easiest. nothing has really changed. that’s probably because you haven’t told anyone that you two are no longer together. perhaps the time that you didn’t spend with each other before the break up had trained you for this.

life goes on, with or without heeseung. that’s what you keep telling yourself. you choose to get caught up with your life. you have other priorities. it’s not a crime to focus on yourself for the first time in three years.

heeseung feels the same. he doesn’t see any point on dwelling on the breakup. sure, he was the one who made the decision. he’s the one who put it out there. he’s the one who ended it and the one who is taking responsibility.

lucky for both of you, you don’t have any courses together and your schedules don’t really coincide. there’s no chance at any awkward run-ins. there is this weird, tiny feeling though. there’s this small inkling of something missing. you both suppress it. i mean, hell, the breakup just happened.

iii. scheming

meanwhile, your friends have all seemed to notice that the two of you are off. they aren’t sure what it is. they get that you two have had some time apart, but you’re both adults with lives. you have your own classes, jobs, other friends, and such. no one mentions it because they don’t think it’s their business.

but come on… there’s no way they won’t get to the bottom of it. our resident gossips, sunoo and sunghoon, team up and make it their mission to snoop around. of course, they take precautions to not get caught. the scheming duo find out nothing, to no avail.

now the gang of the scheming duo plus jay, jake, and niki have convened in the common room of jungwon’s dorm building. the 02z are all playing billiards in one corner. sunoo battles jungwon in a game of ping pong. the youngest of the group sits by himself on one of the couches, contemplating if he should speak up. they’ve been in a heated discussion as they try to figure out what exactly has been irking them.

riki, against his own conscience, speaks up to the five. he has this gut feeling and innocently wants to voice his opinion. “what if,” the young boy start out while gauging the faces of the others, “now don’t get mad and just hear me out.” he stops again, taking his time to make eye contact with each of the older boys, waiting until they all nod, “what if… they broke up?”

the group of friends all exchange glances with each other before breaking out into laughter. jay composes himself a bit, still chuckling when he says, “seriously? you think they broke up? heeseung and y/n? yeah, no way.”

sunoo leans onto the ping pong table and eggs him on, “they are literally soulmates.”

jungwon sets his racket down and goes to plop himself next to riki on the couch, “there is no way in hell the two of them split.”

iv. breaking news

“yeah, we split.” plain and simple. three words that crushed the poor hearts of jake and jungwon. he broke the news over brunch. he sensed their curiosity when they deliberately never brought you up. 

“good joke there, dude. almost had me for a second.” jake says, awkwardly with a forced laugh.

the youngest of the three chiming in and agreeing, “yeah, that’s really funny.” a silence hits the booth. “you are joking… right?”

the oldest then looks back and forth between the two, tilting his head to one side like a confused pup. he doesn’t see why they think he would joke and simply replies, “nope. you guys haven’t asked so i’m guessing you tried to snoop around and pick up on my cues. i’m also guessing sunoo’s behind this whole operation.”

“ok wait,” jake interjects, “what do you mean you broke up? you can’t just break up.”

jungwon agrees, “he’s right. you two are just playing a prank on us.”

“guys, i’m serious. y/n and i are no longer together.” the two just freeze, jaws dropped, eyes wide. “besides, it’s better this way.”

v. bad timing

meanwhile the remaining four members of their friend group have met up in the campus library in an attempted study session. so far, they’ve just gone back to gossiping and slacking off. the boys all find themselves teetering on the verge of sleep. that is until sunghoon catches you walking in. immediately going to softly pat the others back awake, they all look up confused. trying to stay subtle, hoon jerks his head to the side in your direction.

you make your way to one of the shelves, searching high and low for a book you need for your literature class. sneaking up behind you comes choi yeonjun, the library aid and a friend of yours. 

“need any help?”

“no thanks, i’m good jun.” you give him a polite smile.

unbeknownst to both of you, the failure of a study group has creeped to a closer table. they knew that you two were friends but they still can’t help but eavesdrop. “will you two please shut up so we can hear them?” the annoyed face evident on sunghoon’s face at the bickering of sunoo and niki. he turns to see jay, snacking and not paying attention. he rolls his eyes at the group, his gaze then catching yeonjun leading you out of the shelves. quickly shushing the three and nodding his head in your direction again, they finally get the hint.

yeonjun steps in front of you, “so you know my friend soobin, right?”

“soobin… as in choi soobin?”

yeonjun flashes his bright smile, “that’s the one.”

“yeah i know him. we had a stats class together a while back. he definitely taught me a few tricks around a calculator.” you laugh with him, “he’s super sweet, and needless to say cute too.”

“well, am i glad to hear that! long story short, he’s kinda been crushing on you lately and wants to know if you’re free. he mentioned your shared class before but he said he never got your number.”

“since you have mine already, go ahead and give it to him. tell him i’m free whenever he is.”

yeonjun raises his eyebrows at your boldness, “will do. i just wanted to ask you first before i gave it to him because… y’know…”

“no worries, i completely understand.”

he gives a quick goodbye before going back to his desk. storming quickly, four faces appear in front of you, all a combination of confusion, shock, and anger. 

sunoo starts, “um… y/n. why are you telling yeonjun to give your number to another guy?”

“yeah, are you cheating on heeseung?” his partner in crime, sunghoon, joins in.

you pause and scan their faces. your face dawns an equally as confused expression. “how can i cheat on someone who isn’t my boyfriend?”

four jaws simultaneously drop. riki’s being the first to close and answer a bit hushed, “i knew it.”

jay turns to him in disbelief, “not the time, niki!”

“did heeseung not tell you guys?” you ask them slowly. “i assumed he would be the one to let you all know.”

“that you two broke up?!” sunoo asks angrily, being shushed by yeonjun from the counter. giving an apologetic smile then tuning back into your conversation, “what do you mean you two broke up?”

“we just… broke up. that’s it. end of story. now if you’ll excuse me, i have to actually study.”

they watch you check out the book you came in for originally and walk out the doors, unsure of what to do next.

vi. the intervention

arranging your monthly movie night was not exactly the easiest task given the tensions surrounding two people in your group. so the only logical solution that they all could think of was to simply not to tell one of you that the other was coming over. a fool-proof plan.

in the dorm of the 02z, you did not expect to see heeseung when you walked in.

he gets up from his spot on the couch, “what the hell is going on here?”

“yeah, an explanation would be nice.” you cross your arms as you glare at the younger boys.

niki, trying to act as mediator gestures for both of you two sit on the loveseat—the same loveseat that was always reserved for the two of you before. “this is an intervention.”

after the confession of their intentions, everyone goes quiet. not a single word is spoken for several minutes, no one knowing how to start. after much internal contemplation, jungwon finally attempts to start. “we brought you two here today because- you know what, i can’t do this.” he stops and cuts himself off, burying his face in his hands.

sunoo sits next to him with his arms crossed. “how dare you two? our parents gets divorced and we don’t even get a notice.” it was common for them to refer to you and heeseung as the parents of the group, being the oldest. although something about sunoo still calling you by that nickname stings, him shaking his head to display his disappointment making you feel guilty. 

you see heeseung out of the corner of your eye avoiding looking up to your friends. “look, i don’t see the big deal. we broke up. that happens when relationships don’t work out.”

sunghoon quickly intervenes, “how can you say it isn’t a big deal? you’re letting three years go to waste and that’s all you can say? that’s what happens.” he scoffs at how shameless you come off.

“well, would you rather us stay together even when we were unhappy?” their reactions were a mix of shouts, the words yes, of course not, and duh all blending into each other.

that’s what brought your ex boyfriend out of his daze. “y/n has a point. we broke up and it’s over. we were no longer happy and i don’t see the point in bringing it up again either. it’s in the past. let it go.” he says rather coldly and sternly. him actually saying it and acknowledging it caused that weird feeling to come back. his body language is off, too. your years together has taught you enough about heeseung to know when he’s upset, especially with himself.

jake takes his turn, looking down at his fidgeting hands and muttering sadly, “but you promised each other forever.”

that prompts you and heeseung to glance at each other quickly, making eye contact and it lingering for a couple of seconds. you look away first, not noticing that his stare doesn’t leave you.”some promises just can’t be kept.” your response then making him turn away.

“bullshit.” it’s the first word uttered by jay this entire time. “neither of you are the type to break promises.”

“some things can’t be helped,” heeseung defends.

jay, getting angrier, asks his friend, “did you know that she’s already going on a date? yeah, that guy, soobin. i’m pretty sure you know who he is. your ex,” he makes sure to stress the last word with a certain degree of annoyance, “thinks he’s cute.”

emotionless, heeseung answers back, “good for her, then.”

you were sure that you were over him, that’s why you said yes to the date. but something about him not caring leaves you feeling odd.

jungwon stops your train of thought, “no, you’re supposed to be upset. you’re supposed to get jealous and confess you still want to be with her. you’re supposed to fight for her and be together.”

another quick glance between the two of you, lasting longer than the previous one. no words are said on his end, but you know exactly what he’s trying to say. “he doesn’t have to fight when i’m the one who ended it.” you knew him. you knew he couldn’t admit to the others his decision. after all, he wants to be a good role model even in his darkest times. he couldn’t crush their idea of love and you did what you had to do. you lied for his sake—and maybe even yours.

vii. him

two months have passed since the breakup. there’s tension amongst the friend group, the six not wanting to pick sides between you and heeseung. they’re constantly going back and forth, like they’re walking on eggshells as to not bring up something that only happened with the other.

to get your mind off everything, you’ve found comfort in soobin. well, more accurately you’ve found comfort in between his sheets, or wherever you two decide for it to go down. that’s not to say the dates aren’t great. you’re not official and you both know that. your latest date, however, couldn’t help but feel weird.

the date was going pretty well. don’t get me wrong—soobin is a great guy. he’s sweet, caring, funny, and handsome. you have a lot in common like your taste in drinks and movies. maybe if you had met him first, you would’ve dated him… but you didn’t meet him first. you met heeseung first, and soobin isn’t heeseung.

you found yourself drifting from the conversation now and then, thinking about how heeseung would’ve been at that moment. you think back to his habits, particularly the way he raises his eyebrows whenever he’s excited or talking about something he’s passionate about. you always found it endearing. over the course of dinner, you are able to notice that soobin has some cute habits too, like him covering his face when he gets shy or puffing out his cheeks. but it still isn’t the same.

“you two deserve each other.”

soobin catches your attention again with that comment. “what?”

“you and heeseung. i know that look. don’t try to lie to me.”

“look, heeseung is my past, and i want it to stay that way.”

“do you really want it to stay that way, or are you just afraid of what could happen if you let him back into your present?”

you give him a teasing glare, “don’t get all philosophical with me. i just don’t think he and i can go back to how we were before.”

“what’s so bad about you two changing? obviously if it didn’t work out, you shouldn’t try to be what you were before.”

“can’t i just try with you?”

“as much as i would love for you to give me that chance, i can’t do that to you or to myself. it’s not fair.”

you hesitantly ask him, “but is it worth it?”

“that’s not my decision to make.”

viii. her

now that you’re virtually not in his life, he seems to be looking for you everywhere. actually… rather than going out of his way to look for you, everything just reminds him of you. the jingles of the commercials you always sang along to, your favorite songs on the radio, the reruns of 90’s shows you always binged. hell, even when he was making ramen, he was reminded of how you would make his favorite for him every time he was stressed over an exam. he was sitting in the back of the lecture hall, trying so hard to stay awake for his 3 hour long class with the most boring professor on campus. he fought the urge to text you since it felt like second nature to rely on you to help cheer him up.

there was a particular night when it really hit him. reality smacked him in the face late one evening. heeseung was bored out of his mind, laying alone in bed, aimlessly browsing netflix to find something to watch. he thinks to himself y/n would’ve slammed this laptop closed and talked all night about random and obscure topics. he laughs to himself, reliving the memories. right then, it’s obvious. he misses her.

ix. promises

the rain hitting your bedroom window had no help on your already gloomy mood. what did help was the bottle of soju- well more realistically, four bottles of soju. it was all the liquid courage you needed to call heeseung at three in the morning. 

you sat drowsily on the rug of your living room, your phone on speaker and placed in front of you as you stared out the dewy glass. you heard the phone ring seven times, ready to hang up until you heard his groggy voice come out from the other end. “hello? y/n, why are you up?”

you laugh softly and ask him, sounding loopy, “why are you up?”

“because you’re calling me. would you like to give me a reason why, and are you drunk?”

“maybe. anyways, you know… i was thinking. we broke a lot of promises and it hurts. i have to know that we’re not bad people. i have to keep at least one, right?”

heeseung groans but lets you ramble, knowing that you won’t stop until you’ve said it all, “go on…”

“we made a promise that if something was going on, if we were in a dark place, that we would talk to someone. well, if you couldn’t tell by now, i’m not in the best place. the first person i thought to talk to was you.”

“why me?”

“shhh… don’t ask questions. i know you’re tired so just stay on the phone and let me talk. ok?”

he goes quiet for a bit, sighing, “ok.”

“i miss you. i do. i don’t expect you to miss me but i just want to say it,” pausing to hiccup, “soobin helped me realize some things, saying some crap like we deserve each other.” you chuckle as you recall his words, “maybe he said it because bad people deserve bad people. maybe he said it because in our own fucked up lives, we’re the only ones who can understand each other. i did a lot of thinking and i’ve come to the conclusion that we don’t. because if we stay together, we can’t move on. we can’t grow. we can’t become good people, no matter how much we want it. that’s life. sometimes, no matter how much we want something, no matter how much we wish on stars or pray, some things just aren’t meant to be.”

“y/n, get some rest…”

“wait, i’m not done. you already can tell i’ve been drinking and to be honest i have been, for a while. i do it,” starting to choke up and sniffle, “because it helps me forget. even if it’s just for a minute that i can forget what happened, i’ll drink as much as it takes. i’ll grow out of it, eventually. i know i will, but for now… i have to do what i have to do. i’m sure you can relate.” you laugh again, getting more drowsy. you bring your legs up, hugging your knees. faintly, the sounds of heeseung’s snores play from your phone. you smile to yourself, “i wish you were here, singing me a lullaby. i don’t know when you fell asleep but goodnight. take care of yourself.”

cuddled up in his bed, heeseung hears you hang up. he lets you believe he didn’t hear what you said. he knows the reality of it all and the weight that you both are carrying. knowing that you won’t check your phone for the rest of the night, he sends you a quick text: bookstore, saturday, noon. goodnight.

as he turns off his phone to try to fall back asleep, he sees his reflection in the black screen. he sees his puffy, red eyes and his tear-stained cheeks. the end of it all is coming and finally, you two are ready for it.

x. love song

seeing him in person is a good idea. clearing the air, letting it all out, getting closure. all good ideas, you hope. walking into the bookstore was a weird feeling. when you spot him sitting by the window, you quietly make your way over. he looks up at your new presence, his feet shuffling out of nervousness. you notice the glass of pear juice on the small coffee table in front of him, already half empty.

“hi,” he says like a whisper.

“hi,” you awkwardly respond. it’s unlike the two of you to not know how to start a conversation. you make your way onto the cushioned seat, letting yourself get comfortable to help ease the tension. you each avoid the other’s gaze, not knowing how to begin. you sigh and finally ask, “how have you been?”

“busy,” he says as he nods, “finally took up actual music lessons. thought it would be better to have someone who’s played piano and guitar professionally instead of trying to teach myself.”

you softly giggle, “that’s good. you’ve always loved music.”

“yeah… how about you?”

“same, busy. i got the t.a position i applied for like forever ago.”

“congrats! you still looking to become a teacher?”

“well, generally yeah. i was having my doubts before but i just fell back into it. finally being able to be there, present, and guiding others… that’s what i want.” you sit there across from him, watching him and taking it all in. the man in front of you is heeseung, but not the heeseung you knew. no, this is the better version of him. the version of him where he can focus on himself. the version of heeseung that’s glowing and happy and ready to take on the world. “so, look. there’s no easy or delicate way to put it but i think there are things we both need to get off our chests.”

“agreed. since it all happened—the fights, the breakups, the ambush interventions—we haven’t actually talked.”

“those interventions… they were silly but the guys did help me realize some things. we’re growing up. sure, i thought we had this plan of us graduating, getting married, having a family, settling down, growing old. we both wanted that type of life. sadly, it’s not what happened and we have to live with it.”

he lets out a chuckle, “heeseung and y/n: meant for each other and meant to be.”

“but not meant to last. what a bittersweet and poetic ending."

“it’s like people always say: right person, wrong time.”

“you know… you used to tell me that our love song was the soundtrack to the best life you could live.” you reach out and take his hand in yours, “i just,” pausing to take a deep breath and compose yourself, “i just want you to know… that if anything happens-”

he cuts you off with a quiet gasp, whispering your name with a shaky voice, “don’t.”

you shake your head and gently squeeze his hand, “if anything happens… if in the end, we don’t find our way back and it isn’t us, don’t think we ended on a bad note.” you drop your head as you chuckle lightly before continuing, “cause you were always on key.” you give him a small grin, trying your hardest to not make things worse by crying. “we were just playing different tunes.”

he pulls you in closer to him, placing his hands softly on your cheeks. “i always hated seeing you cry,” he says as he wipes away the tears on your face, not bothering about his own. he wraps his arms around you, holding you close for the last time. 

you stay there in his warmth, hearing him sniffle as he tries to hold back the falling tears. when you pull away, you tell him “i will always love you. maybe not in the way i thought i would but it’s still there.”

“maybe in our next life, it’ll be the right time.” with that, he leaves a kiss on your forehead, leaves the bookstore, and leaves your life. your duet that worked in perfect harmony now playing a beautiful cadence—two wandering artists, free to fill your own wretched worlds with new melodies, the bliss and tranquility of it all. the hope that maybe one day, you’ll be in each other’s lives again is enough.

[dysfunctionalcrab]

mcflurry

pairing: karl jacobs x reader

pronouns: gender neutral

-> requested by anon: ive been having a really bad day so if it’s possible for any karl fluff that would be very appreciated :)

note: i hope you feel better anon! this ones for you and all the karl simps

you awoke to sound of your ringtone. your eyes adjusted to the moonlight sneakily seeping through behind the curtains. you blindly started looking for your phone, your hands tapping random areas of the drawer until you located it. your head was still a little hazy to check the contact. whoever it was, you were a little irritated that they woke you up after so much effort of trying to get yourself to fall asleep.

“hello?” you answered groggily, rubbing your eye

“hi [y/n]!” you heard an enthusiastic reply.

you raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“karl, why are you calling in me so early in the morning? are you okay?” you questioned, a little concerned.

“baby, i’m fine,” he assured you. “i just want to ask for a favour?”

you held your breath in preparation in what it might be.

“can you go to mcdonald’s with me?”

you stayed silent. did you even hear him right?

“the sun hasn’t even come up and you want me to do what now?”

“pleeeeease [y/n]...” he begged. “i drank too many monsters and i couldnt fall asleep, now i’m really craving a mcflurry but i don’t want to go alone,”

you sighed, thinking about it. he really just interrupted your sweet dreams for mcdonald’s? you thought deeply about the stupid choice you were about to make.

“pick me up in 5. i’ll go get my jacket,” you told him, defeated. you put the phone down back on your side drawer and started getting up, stretching your arms out a little.

“yes!” he cheered through the phone. “thank you!”

“you’re so lucky i love you.”

“trust me, i know,”

-

you jumped into his car with your pyjamas, a jacket and scarf. it was pretty warm during the day but during the night the whether tended to go cold, forcing you to wear something like a hat and gloves.

he gave you a small peck on the cheek and giggled adorably. “thank you for doing this with me,”

“yeah, yeah. if the ice cream machine is broken i’m going to be so pissed,”

the sky was pitch black, the sun nowhere to be seen. the roads were eerily empty, it felt like a ghost town, but it was a surreal feeling. karl’s signature song ‘sweater weather’ was playing on the radio. you suddenly felt grateful that you decided to come along, nothing beat making memories with the person you loved the most.

karl’s hand was resting your thigh while his other controlled the wheel, he was tapping along to the sound of the music. you two started to sing along

“cause it’s too cold.. whoa, for you here” you both sang along

you began getting carried away with the music, humming and looking outside the window, probably pretending you were in some sort of music video. karl watched you lovingly, wondering how he got ever so lucky with you.

soon enough, you pulled up to the mcdonald’s drive thru. karl finally got his long awaited mcflurry and you got yours, karl also got one of those giant sodas he always got, pepsi to be specific, along with two packets of large fries for the both of you.

you and karl sat in the car park, eating your fries and mcflurries. until a fry got stuck in your throat. you let out loud cough and started to silently choke, grabbing karl’s drink as fast as you could and sipped a little.

“you know,” he began, he grabbed the drink from your hands after your coughing fit had stopped. he took his own sip. “ you just indirectly kissed me.” he said.

you gave him a weird look

“we’ve literally made out, what do you mean we indirectly kissed?” you chuckled, popping another fry into your mouth.

“i don’t know, i was just saying,”

you shook your head, smiling to yourself.

you went to check your phone, wanting to take a photo and capture this moment without ruining the atmosphere, but it was dead. you silently cursed.

karl took out his own phone, as if he just read your thoughts, and then took a photo. posting it immediately on twitter.

“i love you,” you blurted out randomly, honestly you had no idea why but you didn’t regret it

karl’s eyes softened, preciously grinning at your randomness. he leaned forward, looking into your eyes. his nose bumped yours, and then he kissed your lips gently, his lips were cold from the ice cream but you assumed it was the same for you.

he then moved to kiss the tip of your nose

“i love you too,”

———

masterlist

[shotorozu]

TITLE : hospital stay

PAIRING : bakugou katsuki x reader

SYNOPSIS : you’re in the hospital on your boyfriend’s birthday, and bakugou seems to have no issue with spending it in there.

WARNING(S) : MHA MANGA SPOILERS ‼️ (recent arc)

legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns used, a quirk similar to the avatar but that’s about it.

note(s) : so, it’s bakugou’s birthday. and i had this idea since march 20 😦 so i’ve been waiting for his birthday to come for literally a month but i didn’t want to post this way too early. alsooo i don’t know if this arc happened near spring but lets pretend it did for the sake of the story

When you woke up, the fluorescent lights were the first to hit your face

Following by the incoming beeping of a monitor, and the sudden throbbing of your head, the dryness of your throat evident.

Blinking slowly (or trying to, your other eye being a bit delayed.) you try recalling what just happened. You’re in a hospital, that’s one thing you know, but the specifics are still unknown to you.

Right. You remember now, you were fighting along side your classmates, and you managed to get blasted away when you thought that shielding Bakugou Katsuki would work. Yeah, you were sure that you were going to get an earful from him, if he—

You jolt when you notice said blond standing right next to your bed, vermillion eyes staring deep into your own, and somewhat— you could feel the weight and intensity in the stare

“S-since when did you get here?” You’re startled, and your voice is hoarse. Bakugou doesn’t formulate a response, and chooses to avoid the question as a whole.

“Finally you’re up.” He rolls his eyes. He looks much better than you remembered, despite having a few bandages on his forehead— he looked well. “It’s been 5 fucking days.”

“Five days?” You question out loud, your sense of time all disorganized. You clench your hand, just to see if your quirk was still working. Seeing air, fire, water, and just.. something, would relieve your worries— but a look from the blond shot you down quickly. You decided that it was wise if you didn’t try.

The blond seems to be done with the conversation, since he immediately walks out of the room. Actually, why was he here? You’d expect him to be laying down in bed, but despite being hit with that beam, he was walking around like everything was fine.

He comes back with a few other nurses, and they’re relieved to see that you’re awake— and even though they’ve bombarded you with questions with how you felt, you couldn’t brush off the feeling of a pair of ruby eyes on you.

Just, glaring. It’s nothing abnormal.

When the nurses finally leave you alone, giving you details of a few injuries— like your injured— well, burned eyelid that honestly stung (it came from the fire aspect of your quirk) you would’ve expected to be alone in your hospital room for the rest of your time there but Bakugou stayed.

“You’re going to tell me why you jumped in front of me?”

You were expecting to be questioned by him, after all— what you did didn’t exactly shield him, since he was also pierced. You didn’t expect the interrogation to be happening this soon

“Actually, don’t answer that. I don’t want to fucking know.” And he suddenly changes his mind, just like that.

You would’ve said impulse as an answer, but you doubt that he would’ve taken that seriously. And besides, you were kind of glad he changed midway that he didn’t want your answer. Your voice feels parched, despite chugging down a glass of water earlier.

“Did you check up on Deku?” You cringe when you hear cracks in your voice, and the dryness is unbearable to your throat, but he nods. “Idiot’s knocked out cold.”

He doesn’t mention the fact that you were one of the last few people that were still rendered unconscious.

“Your throat sounds like the sahara desert. Do me a favor and drink up.”

You blink owlishly at the glass of water that was set on the mini table, and when you drink up— it actually does something to relieve (temporarily) the dryness.

It was a consequence of your quirk after all, using your quirk too much would cause your body to feel sore, and everywhere to feel dry, and he knew that.

Bakugou was acting uncharacteristically, and you just don’t know why. Maybe it’s not so uncharacteristic of him, since he’s been less of an asshole as of recently, but you know that he would probably deviate from the question if you asked, so the both of you sat in silence.

—

It’s the next day, the same as yesterday— except it looked like dawn when you woke up. Bakugou also appeared at the side of your bed once again, almost as if he was there for quite some time.

“Nice to see you too,” You think to yourself, and you’re glad you didn’t actually say that out loud. You try to stand up straight, but Bakugou’s quick to push your back against the pillows.

“Don’t sit up, that’s idiotic.”

“Right, sorry. How did you get here? Isn’t it too early?” The parched throat came back. Though the ‘magical’ baku-water helped, it’s effects were only temporarily, sadly.

“You call 7am early?” Right, because for him— 7am isn’t that early, you even remember seeing him up at 6 sometimes.

“Actually, wait.” You blink, trying to recall what day it was, and what month it was. You recalled it being spring but.. was it March? or was it April already?

“What.. day is it today?”

It was almost like he was hesitant to say, “..April 20.”

“What the— April 20?” You’re appalled, because the last time you remembered, it wasn’t anywhere near April 20, but maybe it’s your 5 day unconsciousness to be blamed. “Isn’t it your birthday?”

“Shut up,” He mumbles, and he shifts around the room in search of something, but it’s too dim to be able to tell.

“Medicine. The nurses said you should take it now.”

You don’t reply.

“It’s for your Sahara desert throat. The other things are for your fucked up eye and injuries.”

That seems to be enough to convince you to take the medicine, and despite wanting to run away screaming from the bitterness, you take the medicine— not wanting to be met with any consequences

“Why are you spending your birthday here?”

“Do idiots like you ask that many questions?” He shoots back, and you’re unfazed by the fact that he just called you an idiot. You wouldn’t blame him.

“No but.. you seem fine.”

“A few days ago I was not, but now I am because I took medicine.” He walks over to untwist a few medicine caps, it appears to be for your eye.

“So, Does my eye look fine?” You bat your eyelashes just to mess with him, and he flicks your forehead with an ointment cap “No.”

“Sorry, sorry,” You laugh, choosing to completely ignore the sudden sharp pain when you laugh.

He bends down to reach eyelevel, “Can you see?”

“Sorta.” Your eye has this thin blur filter to it, that can’t be good— can it? Going blind in one eye, and having to wear an eye patch.

It was almost on cue, because Bakugou says “You’ll be rocking the pirate look if you don’t take your medicine,” Instead of handing the medicine for you to apply, he quickly applies a decent amount around your eyes— not giving you a warning whatsoever.

You wince slightly, but you’re glad it’s over. But why is he playing nurse with you? And why was he brushing off the fact that it’s literally his birthday.

—

Through out the entire day, Bakugou continued to act as if he had some responsibility over you. From helping you put on your medicine, to just monitoring you with eyes of a hawk. The fact that he chose to ignore all your protests was just a part of him.

His behavior was also very.. interesting. It would swing from being his usual self, to being this eerily quiet and calm Bakugou. You would’ve guessed that you were having a fever dream, if it weren’t for the fact that he wore his usual scowl on his face.

What remained consistent, despite it all— was that he stayed. He ate lunch in your room. He only left when the doctors and nurses asked him too, but that was only temporary. He stayed with you the entire day, even when the clock stroke 5pm.

But it’s quite literally his birthday? Why would he spend it in a hospital room with some extra? Or idiot? Let alone, why would he take care of said idiot/extra on his birthday? You don’t know because he refuses to tell you on why he spent it here.

“Did you at least get some cake or something?” You ask for the umpteenth time, Bakugou’s paced back and forth for some medicine bottles and bottles of water, and you could tell that he was scowling, despite the fact that he was facing the other direction, “Why the hell would I want cake? You’ve been asking weird shit all day.”

“Because it’s your birthday? Seriously— have you been brainwashed into thinking that it’s not your birthday?”

“What— fuck no. I haven’t been brainwashed.” He turns over to you, “I know today is my birthday.”

“Okay, so you know. Why aren’t you celebrating then? Did people forget? Or am I finally going insane?”

Bakugou chooses to stay silent. He stands up, and walks over to you— everytime he moves closer, you could feel your heart pound, luckily not at a dangerous rate.

“Birthday, birthday, birthday” He grumbles, quiet, but loud enough for you to hear. “That’s all you’ve been talking about. As if like you weren’t the one in the hospital bed as we speak.”

“Okay, is it wrong to remember your birthday?”

“Shut up, I didn’t say that.” He gets closer once again, almost to the point that your faces weren’t that far away.

“You’ve just been so concerned about my damn birthday, that you haven’t even taken a good look at yourself,” He gestures at you, by looking you up and down

You finally take observation of all of the gauzes, the IV tubes, and bandages, his words forcing you to look at what was reality.

“I don’t know why you did what you did, jumping in front of me like some kind of heroic bastard, it’s dumb. For all I know, I should be screaming at you, and wishing you the worst for that.” He clenches his fist when he recalls, the scene replaying in his head

“But what I am saying is that, you can give me a gift if you’re so fucking concerned about my birthday. It’s the least you can do.” His statement is solid enough for you to take him seriously. You wouldn’t have if he was scowling, but it’s quite.. different. An expression you’ve seen all day, but seeing it up close is a different story.

“And that would be..?” You gulp, anticipation bubbles

And just like that, he presses his lips against yours, the warmth of his lips sending shocks of warmth all around your body— the impact was abrupt, but the kiss as a whole was surprisingly gentle

Yet, it was also similar to his quirk, it sparked up spurs of need and sent goosebumps all over your body.

You place a hand on his shoulder, the tubes around your arms making it too difficult to wrap your arms around him as you deepened the kiss, Bakugou’s touch is cautious when he lays his hand on a spot that was the least affected, aware of your injuries. Pushing the small of your back with his hand quite gently, he kisses you like it’ll be the very last— even though you both know it won’t be.

When you both pull back, you’re taken aback— unable to think of coherent words, and a proper response.

But this damn bastard, he smirks at you knowing that he just sent shocks and explosions of intense feelings all around your body, your lips still tingling from the kiss.

“Wait, that’s unfair!”

“What?”

“I had no idea you even liked me!”

“For the fucking longest time I did, why the hell would I even be in some extras room, if I didn’t care about them?!” He tries not to yell too loudly but, the tone of his voice gets raised

You blink, “And you preferred playing nurse with your crush this entire time, instead of spending it properly like well.. everyone else?”

“Who the hell said— Fucking hell, do I have to kiss you again for you to understand?”

“Enlighten me,” Your mouth quirks up into a smile, which ultimately causes his cheeks to be set ablaze.

“Playing fucking nurse with you isn’t horrible. It’s one way to spend my birthday, even when you give me shit about it” His brows press together, trying to drown out his flustered expressions with a scowl, “There’ll be more birthdays to come, so why would I be ‘wasting’ it here? There, that’s it. You happy now?”

Silence.

“..More than happy. But don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone about your thing for playing nur—”

“Don’t you fucking finish that thought,” He says stern. “I’m going to get the nurses to check on you, and then— I’ll go home and come back again, tomorrow.”

He storms off, and when the blond is sure that he’s not in your line of vision anymore— he slumps against the wall

“Fucking hell, they’re driving me crazy.” He mumbles, recalling what he had pulled off earlier.

»»————-　♡　————-««

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission

[bbysamu]

It ain’t Me - a series   

✎ Featuring: KUROO Tetsurou x you 

✎ Now Playing:  It Ain’t Me by Kygo & Selena Gomez 

✎ Genre: Angst 

✎ Word Count: 1,573 

✎ Preview: You and Kuroo are high school sweethearts, you thought your love was as strong as whiskey, burning and sweet. What happens when adult Kuroo develops a bad habit of clubbing too frequently and you find it harder and harder to reach him? 

Ch. I 

Ch. II

Ch. III

Ch. IV

Ch. V

Epilogue

a/n: no underage drinking please, don’t hinder your brain growth

♫I had a dream We were sipping whiskey neat Highest floor, The Bowery And I was high enough♫ 

“shhh, you have to be quiet babe, we’re not exactly allowed up here”, your boyfriend whispered as he pulled you up, guiding you to the rooftop. You nodded, slowly steadying your breath. 

The dark sky was empty with the exception of the half covered moon and some stray stars. Today was you and Kuroo’s second anniversary, your relationship lasting much longer than typical high school romances. Kuroo had texted you today saying he had a surprise for you. 

And the said surprise was a late night picnic on the school’s rooftop surrounded by big fluffy pillows and dimly lit candles. 

“when did you have time to organize all these?” 

Kuroo smiled proudly, “I had the boys bring over some spare pillows and Lev and Kenma hauled them up here during their free period”. You smiled at the image of the two boys bringing up pillows to the roof, giggling at the thought of Kenma complaining as he climbed the stairs to the roof. You made a mental note to thank the two tomorrow. 

Kuroo gingerly picked up your hand and led you over to the picnic blanket. The two of you quickly settled down, his arms around your waist, as you laid your head on his shoulder, talking about both everything and nothing. 

Kuroo suddenly brought out a bottle of light honey liquid. 

“Happy 2 years to the love of my life.” He said, delicately pouring the golden liquid into a small glass.

“only one glass?” You raised your eyebrows.

“of course, you’re not 18 yet!” 

“I’m literally turning 18 next week and you just turned last week!” 

“exactly! no underage drinking in this relationship.” He smiled cheekily at you before taking a swing at the liquid. You laughed out loud at his expression.

“ew people actually like this stuff? my throat is literally on fire.”

“wait, let me try!” 

“okay.” 

And instead of handing you the glass, Kuroo leaned in. 

You smiled as his tongue met yours, giving you a taste of the sweet whiskey. 

And that’s how the both of you will always remember your second anniversary, the empty night sky and the sweet, burning taste of whiskey. 

In the years since high school graduation, the two of you have settled into a comfortable pace, no longer the young teenagers, but hardworking adults in a cruel society. The honeymoon period was a distant phase, but that didn’t mean the love between the two of you dwindled. 

You shot a quick text to Kuroo. His lack of response brought a frown to your face. You tried to call him for the third time, this time directly reaching his voicemail. You sighed at the thought of him pressed up against another body and glared at the laptop in front of you. 

Halfway across the town, Kuroo stepped into the dimly lit club in a pressed black button up and some black pants. He lived for nights like these, the mingled bodies on the dance floor and the beautiful ladies. 

Kuroo loves you and he’s been warned by Kenma a bunch of times but he just couldn’t help himself. Kuroo knew you hated the club but he could never bring himself to stop coming. Week after week, especially since you started being asked to work overtime, Kuroo found himself and some of the boys at the club, drinking and dancing with the girls in the short skirts and bodycon dresses. 

Yamamoto wolf-whistled at the sight of the girls walking by, “dang, look at that girl in the black mini”. 

Kuroo whipped his head around and checked out her long legs and low-cut dress before turning to Yamamoto, “I need a drink first”. 

Yamamoto shook his head knowing what this meant. A drink then another was what Kuroo needed to numb himself from the growing guilt eating him away every time he was at the club. With enough alcohol, Kuroo was always able to convince himself he did nothing wrong as he gripped the waist of another woman, his lips on hers. 

He winked at the bartender and a shot was served up. The burning, sweet liquid brought him back to that picnic on the rooftop. He shook his head, chasing away the memory and shot a smile at the girl in the back dress, before making his way over to her. 

♫Somewhere along the lines We stopped seeing eye to eye You were staying out all night And I had enough♫

It was a little past midnight when you made your way over to Kuroo’s apartment, spare key in hand. You knew he was probably at the club, but he promised he’d be home around midnight. Things have been tense between the two of you lately. You sighed at the memory of your fight last week. 

“What do you mean it was nothing?” You shouted, exasperated at the man sitting across from you. “She was all over you!” You sighed internally, tired of always fighting with Kuroo about his clubbing behavior. 

Kuroo shook his head, “babe, I told you, I literally pushed her away, but the video caught the seconds she came on to me before I could even react. I love you, you know that. Why would I ever want someone else?” Kuroo knew he had you by the way your eyes softened, he mentally winced at his lie, memories of making out with the woman fleeted by in his mind. He quickly pushed them away, the guilt barely lingering. Kuroo notices he’s better at doing that.  

“you’re the only one for me” He said pulling you into a hug, his words trying to convince himself more than you. Tired of fighting, you chose to believe him, after all who would you believe, your boyfriend of five years or a 10 second video? 

The turn of the knob brought you back to reality. You smiled at the thought of his surprised face when he comes home to you later. You quickly changed into one of his spare t-shirts and settled down in his bed. “12:30 am” your phone read before you drifted off to sleep. 

♫ No, I don't wanna know Where you been or where you're goin' But I know I won't be home And you'll be on your own ♫ 

The soft light of sunrise woke you up earlier than your alarm. Your body feeling unexpectedly light as you turn to face the empty space. You thought you would wake up to a Kuroo cuddling you. 

“6:27 am” and no notifications on your phone. You got up, unable to sleep anymore, anger and frustration bubbling at the lack of communication from your boyfriend. 

You look in his fridge, empty except for some leftover boxes. Despite your feelings of anger towards Kuroo, you made a mental note to bring over some groceries next time. You decided to make some tea, mindlessly scrolling through the news. 

A sudden click of the door got you looking up from your phone to see two figures, one unfamiliar, the other as familiar as the back of your hand. 

“You know we could just stay at my place. Why’d you have to insist on this weird coffee?” 

You knew exactly what coffee the female voice was referring to. It was the same one you got him from Vienna that time you studied abroad and he’s been hooked on Viennese coffee ever since. 

You heard his voice, “once you taste it, you won’t ever be able to go back I’m telling you”. 

“where’d you get it from?” 

The two figures stepped into the living room just as Kuroo answered, “oh, just from a frie...” he trailed off as you entered into his field of vision. 

The colors draining from his face, the same look of shock mirrored on your features. 

The woman came into view a second after, confused, “wait, who’s this?” 

The look on both of your faces and the tension in the air got her scrambling to the door embarrassed, mumbling a quick apology on her way out. 

Smart woman, you thought. 

You looked at each other in silence. You took him all in. The ruffled hair, the faint hickey on the side of his jaw, the same black button-ups he wore to the club yesterday. 

Kuroo did the same. You standing across the room, dwarfed in a shirt he bought at nationals, a thousand hurts and emotions in your big tired eyes. 

You broke the silence first, too shocked and hurt to even register what had happened five minutes again. 

“I’m leaving.” 

“Y/N wait...” he reached for your hand and pulled you close. You recoiled as soon as you smelled the cheap perfume intertwined with the same whiskey he’s taken a like to after high school. 

“please I can explain.” He search your eyes desperately. 

You shook his hands off yours and quickly gathered your stuff. 

“I’m leaving...”

He cut you off before you could finish, “yeah I heard the first time, please just give me a chance to explain.” 

“you.” 

The shook on his face made it hard to look at him. You cleared your throat. 

“I’m leaving you”. 

You rushed past him, but not before he caught the glimpse of tears running down your cheeks. 

You realized Kuroo was like a bad shot of whiskey, burning, yet all signs of the sweet aftertaste disappearing. 

[hurting-fictional-people]

Okay guys, so I think I’m getting attached to these characters and might have more ideas for them... so please let me know if you’d be interested in seeing more?

CW: (putting them here because tumblr decided to be weird about my tags tonight) a whole lot of angst and betrayal, stabbed whumpee (recovering from it... kinda), collar and chains, IV mention. Please tell me if I missed something

Continued from here

tagging @thelazywitchphotographer and @swift-perseides

-

“You said you’d set Whumpee free if I gave you the information,” someone hisses somewhere above them.

The timbre of that voice is a familiar caress, soothing the uneasiness that threatened to take over as soon as consciousness approached. Still, there’s a sharp edge to it that propels Whumpee’s eyes to flutter open, even as it calms the fear.

“Can you prove it?” 

That’s the sound that truly awakens them. The sound they hoped never to hear again, that sends chills down their spine and makes them squint their eyes against the dim light and groggily look around.

“Can I p– you know you said it, Whumper. Stop fucking around,” Caretaker growls. “If you don’t want to let me go, then fine. Keep me here. Torture me if you will. But leave them alone.”

“Ah, to be young and in love,” Whumper sighs.

Someone towers over Whumpee, large shoulders they know better than their own stand by their bed, restraining their line of sight to the wall to their right and the one in front of their bed.

“I gave you what you wanted. Now let them go.”

Before they can think about it, before they can even truly remember where they are or why or with whom, their hand reaches out and touches the soft skin of Caretaker’s arm, making them stiffen and turn around with a furrowed brow over softening eyes.

“You’re awake.”

It’s the worry underneath the words that brings it all back. The betrayal months before, all the hurt and bitterness, and then those last hours – minutes? – with a hole in their abdomen silently draining their life away, suffocating in pain.

They pull their hand back.

“What happened?” Whumpee rasps out, only then noticing how dry their throat feels. 

They know what happened. Every second of it is etched on their mind forever, but the question still slips out, the need for reassurance bigger than anything else.

“I got you fixed,” Caretaker gives them a sad smile, “just like I promised I would.” 

“Actually, I got you fixed,” Whumper says, walking around Caretaker to stop in front of Whumpee’s bed. “You’re welcome.”

Whumpee’s eyes dart between the two of them, narrowing at the way Whumper’s gaze shines with something dark while Caretaker holds themself statue still. 

“How are you feeling, dear?” Whumper asks.

“Like I’ve been stabbed,” they grumble, frowning when Whumper chuckles. “Why am I not dead?” 

“Poor thing, you were really out of it, weren’t you?” Whumper smiles as they hold Whumpee’s ankle through the sheets and rub circles that would’ve been calming coming from anyone else. “Caretaker took the deal in the end. Almost too late, but my doctors are pretty good, so you should heal just fine. If given proper time, that is.”

“So, what now?” they ask, half wanting to just close their eyes and pretend to still be asleep. Their throat pleads for water, but they don’t want to ask either of them, so they just swallow saliva and pretend it helps.

“Well, that’s a question for Caretaker to answer,” Whumper says, turning toward the third person in the room, the one keeping disturbingly silent, arms crossed and jaw clenched. Probably regretting saving them in the first place.

But Caretaker doesn’t say anything. All they do is glare at Whumper from their spot beside Whumpee’s bed.

“What do you mean?” Whumpee asks after a few seconds, stifling a yawn, eyelids pleading to close.

“They mean that they have no word,” Caretaker snaps. “Whumper wants to make another bargain even though they never fulfilled the first one.”

“Fine. But why am I here?” Whumpee whispers, forcing their eyes to stay open long enough to hear the answer.

“Because you’re the bargaining chip, lovely,” Whumper smirks, squeezing Whumpee’s ankle until they gasp.

Whumpee’s heart drops to the floor, and then lower. 

Caretaker has saved them once, which was a miracle in itself. Expecting them to do it twice is just too much. 

“Can we discuss this later, since you don’t seem inclined to negotiate right now?” Caretaker nods toward the door. “Whumpee needs to rest.”

“I guess they will be needing their strength very soon if you don’t change your mind,” Whumper sighs, winking at Whumpee as they walk to the door. “I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone for now.”

The lock clicks behind them, but neither Caretaker nor Whumpee acknowledges it. They’re too busy staring at each other to do much else. 

Deep bags mar the skin under Caretaker’s eyes, just like it always happens when they don’t get enough sleep, and Whumpee hates themself for still remembering that.

“Why did you–“ save me, Whumpee tries to say, but their voice fails when a dry cough makes their chest heave and their wound hurt. 

Caretaker is immediately leaning close, one hand splayed on their back and the other on their tight, each touch raising goosebumps along their skin. “W-water,” they rasp, closing their eyes at the humiliation.

But Caretaker doesn’t seem to notice how defeated Whumpee’s eyes are, how their cheeks burn red for having to ask them for something so simple. They simply grab a plastic water bottle from the bedside table and hand it to Whumpee. They gulp down the entire thing.

“How are you feeling?” Caretaker asks once they sag back on the mattress.

“Like shit.”

It’s true, but the irritated tone is nothing but a defense mechanism, and they fear as much as they hope that Caretaker notices it. 

The pain is a constant weight in Whumpee’s stomach, and the medication slowly dripping into their veins through an IV makes them nauseous and sleepy, but none of it makes Whumpee any less confused or sad whenever they look at Caretaker.

Why did Caretaker save them? A blurry memory tickles their brain, of sobs that didn’t come from their lips, of trembling hands holding theirs, warm lips kissing their forehead when they couldn’t convince their eyes to stay open anymore. It dissolves before they can grasp it, leaving only an empty feeling behind.

“You should sleep,” Caretaker says when the silence grows uncomfortable.

“Are you regretting saving me already?” Whumpee whispers, averting their gaze.

“What? No.” It sounds so real they almost believe it. They want to, so badly, but they’d already made the mistake of trusting Caretaker once before. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

There’s a hurt edge to their voice that makes Whumpee’s eyebrows rise as they look Caretaker straight in the eye. “Tell you what?”

“What Whumper did. That you were bleeding out.”

Oh.

“You could’ve died, Whumpee. You almost did. If you had just told me they had stabbed you, it would never have gotten to that point.”

“Why do you sound so angry? You’re the one who taught me not to trust anyone. ‘I’m sorry I hurt you but I’d do it again’, remember? You are the one who said those words. I didn’t say anything because I didn’t think it would matter.”

Caretaker furrows their brows, opens their mouth, and turns around. Before they do, though, Whumpee catches the flash of pain and sadness crossing their eyes and pretends not to notice the glint of tears there.

The seconds tick by, and as the silence extends, pain and exertion make Whumpee’s eyes take longer and longer to open each time they blink. They are almost asleep when Caretaker’s voice sounds again.

“It’s not true, you know. It would’ve mattered. It’ll always matter when it comes to you.”

But Whumpee is already dreaming once they stop talking.

-

“So, have you made your choice?” Whumper asks from behind a ridiculously large desk. Caretaker folds their arms and doesn’t fight the will to bare their teeth. “We’ve talked through it already, Caretaker. It won’t even be any sort of bother, you just have to go in, pretend I let you free, and come back with the drive I gave you.”

“You and I both know it’s not that simple. You want me to infiltrate my own team, lie to their faces, and hand our biggest enemy a drive filled with classified information,” they bite back, hands curling into fists.

“Well, you can always say no,” Whumper leans back in their chair and grins. “You know I’ll even let you walk out if you do. And then I’ll have a pretty little pet to play with. The only downside is that dear Whumpee won’t last very long as my plaything with that wound of theirs.”

The words might as well be a blade sinking into their heart. And Whumper knows it, relishes the knowledge, laughing when Caretaker holds their breath.

It’s been three days since Whumpee’s woken up. Three days of poorly hiding the desperate need to be by their side, to make sure nothing would ever hurt them again. Three days of knowing that each small noise of pain Whumpee lets out, each hazy look they get whenever Caretaker says something kind or offers help, each distrustful glance, it’s all Caretaker’s fault.

Whumper doesn’t even bother hiding how much pleasure they take from locking Caretaker up until they can’t help but bang on the door and beg to see Whumpee. And when they do, it’s only to be hit by a new wave of pain breaking against their heart, flooding their veins with sorrow every time their eyes meet. 

“Don’t fucking touch them,” Caretaker spits out, taking a step forward before they can stop themself.

“Is that a ‘yes Whumper, I agree with your terms’ I’m hearing, dear?”

“How can I trust you won’t hurt them while I’m gone?”

Whumper’s lips tug upwards, growing into a mocking, open smile. “You can’t. And I won’t even bother promising I won’t. So if I were you, I’d hurry up, because each second you try to stall me makes me even more excited to play with little Whumpee, and I don’t think they’ll appreciate my games as much as I will.”

It’s almost funny how a handful of words is capable of completely shattering someone’s heart, of stealing the ground from under their feet and filling them with dread all at once. 

“Don’t you dare touch them,” Caretaker says, but it’s scared and quivery and both of them notice. “How the fuck do you expect me to leave with you saying you’ll hurt Whumpee?”

“Do they know how much you care about them?” Whumper muses, getting up and sauntering around the table. “Because I remember rather clearly Whumpee telling me you’d sooner offer them ruin than help.”

“What do you care?” they say through clenched teeth.

“It’s just intriguing how desperate you are to keep them safe and how oblivious they are of it. What did you do to make them so distrustful of you?”

Tore their heart apart with my bare hands. The answer comes to their mind unbidden, bringing a sharp twist of pain along with it. They can still see Whumpee’s shocked face, tears streaming down their cheeks, eyes desperately searching theirs for an excuse that wasn’t there for a treason they had no way to deny, no matter how much they wished to. I’m sorry I hurt you, but I did it for the greater good, and I’d do it again, Caretaker had said with all the pride and coldness a soldier could master. 

They had kept their own tears for later, when no one could see them shatter.

“Is your life so miserable you have to feed off of someone else’s or are you just a nosy bastard?”

Whumper laughs, and they wish they could punch that laugh out of that smug face. “I’ll give you the details now and you’ll leave tomorrow. And just because of the insult you won’t get to say goodbye to Whumpee.”

Caretaker glares in response but doesn’t argue. They don’t deserve to be near Whumpee, not after everything, and are pretty sure Whumpee wouldn’t want it either. Besides, the simple thought of seeing the face they love so fiercely fill with suspicion each time Caretaker opens their mouth makes them want to weep. 

Still, as long as they are alive to do so, Caretaker will gladly take the suspicion and anything else Whumpee throws at them. They deserve far worse anyway.

-

Each breath Whumpee takes hurts, and they are about to start crying out of frustration when the door opens. They don’t dare recognize the sharp tug of disappointment in their heart when the face that appears isn’t Caretaker’s.

“Good morning, love, how’s that wound?”, Whumper asks.

“Fine.” There’s an air of amusement around them that makes Whumpee shiver, even if they don’t know exactly why. “Where’s Caretaker?”

It leaves their lips before it hits their brain, and Whumpee has to bite their tongue to avoid slapping their forehead for it. Stupid. Caretaker shouldn’t mean anything to them anymore.

“Oh, dear. You still care about them, don’t you?”

Whumpee doesn’t even open their mouth, not when the answer they can voice would be a blatant lie and they’d both know it.

“It’s really unfortunate to have feelings for someone who doesn’t reciprocate them, isn’t it?” Whumper says, drinking in the slight frown between Whumpee’s brows, the way they look away to hide how much the words hurt them. 

Before the wave of bitterness can crash over Whumpee, Whumper nods to someone outside the room and two guards step inside. 

Their heart starts to pound, thrumming louder at each step the men take toward them.

“What, what’s going on?”

“We’re going somewhere else today, love. I assumed you needed the help to walk.”

They are shaking their head before Whumper even finishes the sentence. With a smile stretching across their face, they raise their brows, as if inviting Whumpee to do it themself.

They know what’s going to happen even before it does, and by the glee on Whumper’s face they do too, but Whumpee still kicks the thin blanket away and gets up on wobbly legs before taking two steps forward. On the third, the pain becomes unbearable. On the fourth, they can’t help but hold their injury and hunch their shoulders. Whumper watches them with mock concern as Whumpee stumbles out of the room. When they finally fall to their knees two steps later, Whumper simply tuts from their spot against the door.

“I guess you did need the help, huh?” they say, and Whumpee catches only a glance of their smile as they wave for the guards. 

Two pairs of hands grab Whumpee’s arms and pull them up, and they can’t hold back a scream when it makes their entire abdomen explode in pain. 

They are hauled over countless hallways, into a room made of concrete walls and nothing more, barely big enough for all of them.

“Please,” they breathe. “What are you doing? What about your deal with Caretaker?”

“Caretaker left, Whumpee.”

It’s the softness in their voice that makes Whumpee’s head turn to them, all wide eyes and parted lips. 

“The bargain we told you about was for them to either betray their team and keep you safe or go away and leave you behind. They made their choice.”

Whumpee can only stare at Whumper’s sympathetic smile. The words take a while to truly sink in, and when they do, all Whumpee does is take a deep breath. 

They’d been expecting this all along, they tell themself. They knew they couldn’t trust Caretaker, knew they’d never come first. They know it, they do. But then why does it hurt so much?

“And you see, Caretaker’s leaving made me kind of mad,” Whumper says as Whumpee is dumped on the cell’s cold floor, falling on all fours. “Betrayals make me bloodthirsty, I’m sure you’ll understand. And since you’re mine now, how can I resist it?”

Whumpee’s mouth dries at that. Terror shoots through their veins at the same time sadness tightens their heart.

The two men who’d carried them there take a step forward at the words and grab chains from a hook behind the door they hadn’t noticed before. As the chains are hung on metal loops attached to the wall, Whumpee realizes how wrong they’d been. The cell walls aren’t completely barren after all.

And when the guards crouch down in front of them, Whumpee can barely find strength through the panic and the pain radiating from their stomach to fight. 

They do, though. Even when it burns and sends waves of dizziness down their body, Whumpee thrashes in hands that don’t budge, jerks against grips that only tighten. 

But none of it matters when metal cuffs lock around both their wrists, nor when the chain is shortened until their arms are pulled straight above their head, back touching the wall. At least they are still sitting. Not that they could get up if they wanted to.

“Whumper, pl–“

But it isn’t over yet, they realize when another shiny gray circle approaches. Whumpee lets out a choked whine, but it’s all they can do before the collar closes around their throat and locks their neck to the wall as well. An uninvited sob escapes their lips, and there’s nothing they can do to stop it either.

“You look beautiful in chains, love,” Whumper says from the door, grinning with sadistic satisfaction at Whumpee’s weakness.

Humiliation tinges their cheeks red when Whumper’s gaze travels up and down their body. Chained, collared, like a dog, unable to do more than wiggle their arms and weakly kick their legs.

“Why are you doing this?” Whumpee asks, voice airy and desperate, searching for an explanation they know isn’t there.

“Because I wanted to. Because it brings me joy to see you struggle. I wouldn’t keep thrashing like that, though, you’ll wear yourself out very quickly with that unfortunate wound of yours, and we don’t want this to end too soon, do we?”

They leave the cell with a giggle and a wave of goodbye, and when the door doesn’t lock behind them, Whumpee almost chokes on a bitter laugh.

The cell is big enough for them to lie down straight if the chains weren’t keeping them tightly tied to the wall. But as time goes by, it seems to get smaller and smaller, closing in on them with each ragged breath Whumpee takes. The chains clink together as they squirm, but there’s no give. Their wound hurts through it all, burning with each movement, but stopping feels like giving up and if they do, then what? 

No one knows where they are but Caretaker and they’ve already made it clear they won’t help. They’ve already given up on Whumpee, left them once again.

No one cares. There is no saving this time. 

Whumpee chokes on rage and grief as tears stream down their cheeks, for a love that should never have been born, for the heart that has been broken in so many pieces they don’t know how it can still find strength enough to keep beating in their chest.

Whumpee stares at the gray walls and feels a scream building, and there’s no one there to stop it from bursting out, containing all of their anger and sadness and betrayal and spilling it over to the world. But even though it’s left their chest, the cry keeps echoing, bouncing around the walls, and none of the feelings are gone. They are all still there, still boiling inside of Whumpee.

So Whumpee sobs and pulls at the chains until their wrists are raw and bleeding, and don’t stop until both their strength and their voice are gone and there’s nothing else to do but sag on the chains. 

-

Caretaker is in the elevator when the phone Whumper’s given them buzzes. Seven floors to go before they have to face their team. A few seconds before they have to betray the people who are nothing less than their family.

Even so, it’s not that thought that sends a shiver down their spine. 

No one but Whumper has that number. The phone was given to them with specific instructions to be used solely to communicate with them. It’s Whumpee’s wide eyes that shine in their mind when Caretaker unlocks the phone, and it’s the memory of their smile that makes Caretaker’s heart race as they stare at the text and the video attached to it.

Got bored. You better hurry up.

Their hand trembles as they click on the video and Whumpee’s thin figure fills the screen, arms chained above their head, legs loose on the ground in front of them. Their eyes are closed, and for an instant, Caretaker’s heart stops in fear. But then Whumpee’s head starts to loll forward before being violently pulled back, and at the same time relief makes Caretaker suck in a sharp breath, the thing shining around Whumpee’s neck makes their heart sink through the floor. 

The collar surrounds the soft skin Caretaker’s tasted more than once, marring the perfect curve of their throat. When it yanks their head back, it hits the wall behind them and their eyes snap open. Whumpee stares at the ceiling for a moment before their mouth opens in a scream Caretaker feels in their soul, even if they can’t hear it. They feel it with their whole heart, and when Whumpee starts pulling against the chains, Caretaker thinks they’ll puke.

The video ends with them panting silently through the soundless video, the glint of tears wetting their cheeks. 

And then the elevator stops, and Caretaker barely has two seconds to wipe away their own tears before the doors open. 

When their teammates run toward them, none of them sees the way their eyes shine for the dread it is. 

As they smile and let lie after lie slip through their teeth, the only thing resounding in their mind is Whumpee’s silent screams. And as they deceive and betray, no one seems to notice the way their hands tremble or how they can’t convince their lips to smile no matter how happy they should’ve been to be back with the team. Not when the ten seconds keep playing over and over again inside their mind.

(next)

[hivequest]

Taking a Risk » Mallek Adalov/Reader

Wordcount: 2.3k words

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, stressed out reader, chillboy Mallek. TYping quirk only used when texting cause I could not be bothered lmao Originally posted on AO3

A/N: One of my favorite things that I’ve written, ever. I love Mallek and he’s for sure one of my favorite Friendsim characters. When I wrote this I was really feeling those Quarantine Woes

You didn't know what you were doing here. You felt out of place in the worst possible ways. It was a weird, squidgy feeling like stepping on wet grass. But not like the fun kind where you were running around in a sprinkler on a hot-as-balls summer day. No, this was the bad kind of wet grass that you stepped on without knowing it was wet. Why weren't you wearing shoes?

This analogy is stupid. The point is, you're feeling bummed out.

And what better way to not have to deal with that than hang out with someone you knew wouldn't push you into talking about all the ways crashing on this planet sucked! The point is, you're on your way to see Mallek. Mallek is absolutely the kind of friend who can tell when you just need to sit down and veg out. You had been so caught up in everyone else's bullshit that you weren't looking after your own damn self. So now you were doing that.

All it took was a quick text, asking Mallek if he had any company. He texted back only a moment later with a no, obviously not. You asked him if he wanted any. Not really. You ask him if you can come over anyway. Obviously.

You smiled at the palmhusk in your, well, palm. You could already feel the chill vibes of your hacker friend. Friend? Was that the right word for it? You didn't know anymore. When you first met there were definitely some sparks there. You could still feel them now and it made weird butterflies flutter around in your stomach. When you slapped his phone out of his hand and he sent you ass over applecart into the slimy depths of sewer water and he saved you, tits out and all.

You shook off the weird wistful feeling of maybe possibly crossing the friendship barrier and told him you'd walk to his hive. You'd been moping in some bookhive, not your usual hang-out spot with Tagora or Tyzias. This was some upper caste bookhive with purple bloods and some indigos and definitely not where you were welcome if the looks you were getting were any indication. They ranged from snooty to downright murderous. Yeesh.

Your phone -palmhusk, stupid troll names- beeped again. You got another text from him and those cheery fucking butterflies were back. God, you had it bad.

yeah were not doing that lmao;

im not going to let my robobuddy walk out in the sun

do you even know what time of day it =

just stay put ive already got your location ill pick you up;

And like a good little friendsimp. You park your ass on a chair and wait. You hadn't released your moping had taken up most of the night. But with the quick look around, yeah, no, this place was nearly empty by now. Just some older bluebloods trying to cram before their Ordeals and get shipped off-planet. Again: Yeesh.

You kept your ears open for the telltale sound of Mallek's limo. It was a sound you were getting used to these days. He always seemed ready to drop whatever coding shit he was working on to come to see you. You tried not to think too hard on what that might mean. No need to get your hopes up now. It's probably just your bad mood making you imagine some context where there's nothing. Yeah.

Damn, that shit hurted.

Just as you were about to add that to the reasons you were considering just screaming your lungs out who cares whose listening? you heard the wonderfully familiar sound of an approaching elongated scuttlebuggy. If that wasn't enough of a clue as to who the ride was for the quiet of the bookhive was very abruptly disturbed by a series of rhythmic beeps.

Holy shit was that the Tetris theme?

You shoved your palmhusk into your hoodie pocket and yanked the hood over your head. Even if the sun was only out a little bit you didn't want it anywhere near your freshly healed skin. You had no kind cowgirl to nurse you back to health right now if you got your asscheeks baked by the flaming death orb. You peeked your head out and even with the blinding light of Alternia's suns you could Mallek had opened the door and was waiting for you.

Aw. No, shit. You're in a bad mood don't get all heart eyes at him. Don't make it weird.

You took a few steps back into the bookhive, ready to make a run for it. You turn to a sitting indigoblood, who is just staring at you disdainfully for keeping the door open. You give her a two-fingered salute. Godspeed young cosmonaut. She gives you a one-fingered salute. Close the door you insufferable bulgebiter. Fair.

Taking a running start, you book it out into the heat of the Alternian sun and dive for the open car door. It's then that you realize he's halfway parked on the sidewalk to lessen the amount of time you'd have to spend in the sun. Aw. That also means that you came barreling like a cannonball at something that was like two feet out of the door. FUck.

Your face meets carpet and you can already feel the rugburn starting to set in. You hear a startled wheezy laugh from above you, a sound you know better than anyone else on this planet. You smile. It's not like you had any dignity to begin with.

You say hello to him as you peel yourself off of the floor of his car.

"Hey, there robobuddy. You stuck the landing this time," He smiles down at you as he reaches over you to shut the door, closing the space out from natural light and leaving you both lit by his colorful LEDs. You shrug and tell him you've been getting a lot of practice landing on your face these days. The look he gives you is still smiling but there's some level of disbelief at the dumbassery that is your whole existence.

"I know you can get yourself into it. Nothing too bad this time, though, right? No drones or broken bones?" He sounds concerned which is nice but he doesn't drown you with his concern. He leans back on the bench of his limo, keeping an eye on you as the vehicle begins to move on its own. You've been staying out of big messes but the little messes are starting to mess with you. He makes a sound of understanding the sounds as it comes from deep in his chest. Whoa. "Believe me, I've been there. Glad you're not cracking under it though."

He smiles and you can see his little fang and you can feel your heart melt a little. And also you're getting a bit teary-eyed and now Mallek looks alarmed. Shit. You try to quickly explain that you're fine, just, alien allergies am I right? He must be using some new air freshener to mask the musty smell of his limo. Since doesn't use it enough. Ha ha?

He isn't buying it.

With a rare show of cerulean prowess, he lifts you up off of the shitty car rug and sets you on the seat beside him. He feels uncomfortable and you can tell. Ah, goddammit you made it weird. You didn't mean to. Fuck. Fuck now you're feeling even worse. You thought you were starting to balance out. You're with Mallek now, shouldn't everything start to quiet down like it always does? Fuck. He doesn't say anything at first, just leans back against the seat and stretches his arms across it, letting you lean on him if you choose to.

...You choose to.

Your head finds itself somewhere between his shoulder and his collarbone, and you just. Shove your face there. Then scream.

To his credit, Mallek doesn't even flinch. He doesn't wince or shy away from you as you let out every bit of anger, sadness, and frustration out against his sweater. He just sits quietly, staring straight at the blacked-out windshield. You get the feeling he's needed to do this more than once.

Screw this planet. Screw everything about it that makes all of your friends suffer. Why can't you just get them away from all this bullshit?! Why do you have to deal with everyone's bullshit! You love them, you do but holy fuck they're looking to you like you can undo all the damage this place has done to them when you've got literally no god damn idea what's happening at any point ever!

And then, just like that, it fades into the background. Your throat hurts. Your head hurts and you think you might be crying. But it feels lighter. Better now that you've gotten some of that aggression out. You aren't like the trolls on Alternia. You can't kill people when you experience an Emotion™. But that doesn't mean you don't get pent up with rage.

Mallek realizes that now. He lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding and his left hand slowly moves down from the back of the seat the rest against your back. His thumb brushes against your back, the claw drawing little patterns against the fabric of your sweater. His sweater. He tries not to think his sign your chest. This isn't the time.

"Feeling any better?" He asks and you don't know how to answer. You kinda don't want to. But you nod anyways, and you feel some tension leave his body. You knew he was worried about you. You apologize for making him witness your meltdown but he just makes another deep-chested hum. "Nothing to apologize for. I got the feeling you weren't feeling great. I could tell from the texts, you didn't use nearly enough ugly emojis."

You scoff and smack a hand against his chest and once again you hear that wonderful laugh from him. Hey! Your purrbeast emojis are adorable, thank you very much! And you'll not hear another word of it or else you'll send him pictures of rocks and rocks exclusively. No more memes.

"Jokes on you I'm into that shit." You laugh and thump your head against his collarbone. You thank him for being with you when were needed it. And picking you up to make sure you didn't deal with it alone. You don't want to make it weird but...yeah.

He doesn't respond this time, just letting you both enjoy the silence and the comforting sound of the engine. You should almost be at Mallek's apartment by now. It's as you're settling in for the last bit of the drive that you notice that the limo isn't moving. And hasn't been for a while. Your head pops up in confusion and the little GPS display on the back of one of the seats says... yep.

You're already at Mallek's.

But then why is the engine still on? That can't be good for the environment. Do these things even run on gas or is it bugs? Bug gas? Gross.

You notice then that the rumbling is coming from behind you. Like. From where Mallek is sitting. He doesn't look away when you turn to him, just kind of tilting his head to the side with a little bit of a cerulean hue to his cheeks. Oh. Oh, the sound is coming from him. He's purring. That's.

That's adorable.

You feel yourself soften even more when he lifts his arms, silently offering a hug if you want it. Is this platonic? Is this more? You've never had too much trouble identifying what people wanted from you. (Debatable.) If was overtly flushed you could shut it down or divert it to something very much friends only. (Like your every exchange with Zebruh.) But did you even want to do that to your hackerman? You could feel yourself screaming, no, absolutely not. But at the same time, you didn't want things to change. You didn't want to make his issues any worse than they already were. He didn't have too much longer on the planet and you knew it would tear him apart.

But then he turned those blue eyes to you. He looked just as unsure as you were but he was willing to take the risk. He shoved himself so far out of his comfort zone for you and was asking you to be selfish. To want something for yourself and do something for yourself. Not put him or anyone else's wants first. Just your own. And so you did.

You crawled up into his lap, pressed yourself as close to him as you could and clung to him. His arms didn't hesitate to wrap around you and you could feel a shuddering breath from above you.

"We don't have to put a label on this... not yet. Or ever. Either way is chill with me. I just... yeah." He gave up with a little shrug of his shoulders but you knew what he meant. Unless you could find a way to fight fate he was going to go off-world. He was going to leave you and you doubted you'd be able to go with him. You'd probably get gored by a drone for even trying.

But even if it was just for now, just for a moment, you were going to take it. You were going to let yourself have something, have someone who would care for you no matter how long or short your time was. You'd take it. You had stomached some of the most horrible things on this planet but Mallek had always been a constant. And you got the feeling he thought the same way about you.

So, you'd take it. Whatever comes next, you'd take it. You listened to the sound of his purring, in no hurry to move to get inside the apartment. Mallek felt the same.

You exhaled.

You would be okay.

[woosansang]

this is gonna be the most incoherrent thing ive ever written but i just . . need to get things out of my head

re my weird as fuck dream last night that woke me up at 7am on a saturday. dream (nightmare?) about coming out to my parents and my dad started wearing a trans pride flag tshirt that said trans rights. but???? i have NEVER felt like that applies to me. i can barely even consider myself nb even though that’s probably the most accurate way i view myself.

i cannot STAND being called a girl anymore. i liked it when my dad once misttook me for my sisters bf because we dress the same way sometimes and i had a cap on so my hair was covered. i liked it when someone drunkenly asked me at a club if i was born a boy or a girl because the couldnt tell (i guess based on the way i was dressed? my face looks feminine but i dress masculine idk). when the kids accidentally say yes sir to me at school and then apologise i tell them that’s fine, i dont care if they call me miss or sir. my best friend knows all of this and he tries to show his support by “jokingly”(?) calling me a boy when he talks to his dog (it’s not mean or condescending, idk how to explain, you just have to be there i guess).

i feel weird when people refer to me as “they” even though that’s what i’ve said i prefer, i’m also just used to hearing/reading “she”, but i dont really like that either. but i definitely do not want to use “he”. once again, i guess “they” is the best option but why the fuck does everything just feel so wrong when people use pronouns to refer to me. can’t i just be jazzy. can’t you just call me by name

i said to my sister the other day that i think yeosang is the most attractive ateez member but that i am most attracted TO wooyoung. and yet. when i see wooyoung in his casual cothes, his trackies and hoodies and caps and beanies and oversized tshirts, i think he’s hot, yeah, but mostly i just think “wow i wish i looked like that”. i’m also attraced to ryujin but i dont want to look like her. i dont know what relevence that has to anything, im just thinking out loud.

im so fucking confused

this has been an ongoing war ive had in my head for like two or three years now

in like 2016/17/18 i spent hundreds of dollars on these gorgeous dresses and brand name makeup that i used to wear to uni events and while i still enjoy doing makeup on my sister whenever she goes out somewhere fancy, i dont ever wear most of it myself. but i love lipstick. i fucking love bold lipstick - red, purple, organe, pink, blue, green, wow, WOW i love wearing lipstick.

i always feel the need to express how much i dislike the colour pink. i’ve been like that my whole life. except i dont actually dislike it anymore. it’s a nice colour. not one of my favourites by a long shot, but compared to how much i hated it when i was a kid, i dont anymore. but i still pretend(?) to?????? i dont get it

i dont want to be viewed as male. i want to be viewed as female. but not a woman. i dont like pronouns. im just a person. i am just a person. 

anon came for my throat the other day when i said atiny selca day makes me feel uncomfortable and seeing atinys selfies makes me feel sick. it was never about seeing peoples selfies. i actually love seeing when my beloved tumblr mutuals post pictures of themselves. almost all are “she/her”. i love seeing them, gorgeous and feminine and happy with how they look in that picture and wanting to share it with friends online. i LOVE it. and then i go to twt and see random strangers posting gorgeous feminine pictures and i want to die. cant i be an atiny and not look like that? i dont want to look like that. i dont want people to assume i look like that, that i feel like that. i dont want people to group me with all these girls just because i like a boy group.

i dont even want to get started on how being bi confuses me in relation to all this as well. the idea of dating someone right now who is a girl or is a boy just. no. i dont know. it’s got nothing to do with it but also i feel like it has everything to do with it. i dont know

i dont

fucking

know

ugh

[drawlfoy]

Wonders of Ohio P.10

masterlist request guidelines

pairing: draco x reader

request: no way 

summary: american high school senior y/n y/l/n is in for a surprise when her british exchange student is a little...odd. 

warnings (AYO please pay attention to these this time it’s not just swearing): swearing, underage drinking (no i do not condone this ig), beginning elements of smut but def not too explicit, i think you can consider it dubcon ?? if both people are drunk bc i don’t think you can actually consent if youre drunk (plz rest assured tho they are both 18 hehe)

a/n: “hey where did this come from” yeah so hey yall ive never written such an intense scene before but i’ve spent so much time w these characters that i decided i kind of had to. there’s no like...real sex in this and i don’t imagine that i’d describe it in this much detail if i ever decided to write it but um.. anyways. i hope y’all enjoy. thanks for suffering for this long ! i hope i’ve made it worth it 

word count: 4k

music recs: 

cloud 9 -- beach bunny

the adults are talking -- the strokes

anything from the strokes tbh 

tags ! :) @gruffle1 @missmulti @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @straightzoinked @imintoodeeptostop @naiomimoonshard @jejegu @ophelia-enthusiast @alwaysbeanunknownfan @nearly-memories @litty-dumb @callieclearwater @malfoy-wife15 @charlenasaxen @belladaises @fiantomartell @writeandtranslate @erisdogwood @loveissupernatural @sycathorn-slush @big-galaxy-chaos

“Thank fucking god for the generator,” said Y/N as she flew around the kitchen, banging pots and pans together in her quest to make New Year’s Eve breakfast. Draco was sitting, unamused and completely silent, at the table. They’d been snowed in for a few days now with her parents nowhere near able to make it to the suburbs. For some reason, the entire city of Cincinnati had decided that the day before Christmas was the best time to schedule maintenance on literally every single one of their plows. “Can you imagine living here without heat? Or power? I’d die.”

Draco hummed in response. A glance over confirmed that he was deep in thought, a scarlet colored letter clutched firmly in his hand (hello, Nathaniel Hawthorne). Jealousy curdled inside of her as her thoughts turned to a dark place--it was Pansy, that Pansy Parkinson. 

Knowing her intuition, she was probably his grandmother or something. Why else would she have written so many letters?

After she finished plating all of the pancakes, she allowed herself to sneak a peek at the envelope. 

Astoria Greengrass

She frowned. Astoria? She’d never seen that name before. 

“What is this?” asked Draco as he picked up his fork to poke at the pancake on his plate.

Y/N’s jaw dropped. “Have you never had a pancake before?”

“A pancake?” He gave his plate a stern look. “It looks...like a soggy pastry.”

“Fuck you, I made that,” responded Y/N. “Try it with butter and maple syrup. And then tell me it’s a soggy pastry.”

She took out her fork and knife, demonstrating very clearly what she meant as she spread butter over the top of her pancake. She’d learned that Draco was too proud to ask what she meant when she introduced him to American/muggle foods--the last time he tried to deduce something himself, he ended up pouring ketchup over the top of his hamburger bun instead of actually putting it on the patty. 

A sense of satisfaction flowed into her as she saw him follow suit, spreading the warmed butter and dipping a cut piece in syrup. He raised it to his lips, taking a delicate bite.

“Americans really have this for breakfast?”

“Yeah…is something wrong?”

“Nothing. It’s just…” He grimaced. “This isn’t breakfast. This is dessert food.”

“God, your life must be so sad back home,” said Y/N. “What does your family make you eat--just straight unbuttered bread under the guise of it being a real breakfast food? Do they let you dip it in your unsweetened, weak tea if you’re good?”

He scoffed. “You have no idea how I live back at home.”

“And, judging from this conversation, I don’t have any desire to know any more.”

They ate in silence for the next few minutes. Y/N smiled when she saw Draco reach for a second pancake.

“Two desserts? Draco, I know it’s New Year’s, but don’t get too off the hinges,” she teased. 

He rolled his eyes, but she could tell her was fighting back a smile. “Speaking of which, how do you celebrate New Year’s?”

Draco looked up and met her eyes. “Sorry?”

“How do you celebrate tonight? With your family or your friends, or your...whatever.” The cold reality of the fact that she did not really know if he was dating someone back home set in.

“Oh, I don’t usually. It’s not really a big thing in the magical community,” he mused, unaware of her sudden panic.

“Well,” she said. “I always celebrate New Year’s with my friends. I didn’t tell you this sooner because I didn’t think that you were going to be here, but I’m kind of hosting a party here tonight. With anyone who can walk here.”

“Oh.” He took a sip of his tea. “Will it be like the Halloween party at Sylvia’s?”

“What do you mean?” She smiled. “Do you mean, will there be drinking?”

He shrugged in response, avoiding eye contact.

“There definitely can be,” she continued, her smile widening. “Last year we played this dumb drinking game over this card game--if you lost, you took a shot. It was fun. We could do that again.”

She settled down to eat, digging into two of the pancakes. They were really good--she wasn’t Gordon Ramsay by any means, but she did breakfast food pretty well. But at the mention of her friends, a realization hit her. “Oh. Draco?”

He raised an eyebrow and met her eyes.

“Um, can I tell you something?” 

He dipped his head in recognition while Y/N cleared her throat.

“So, um, I forgot about this,” she began, “but while you were gone, I kind of had to scramble to figure out what to tell everyone about why we were avoiding each other before you left. And why you left so suddenly and why I didn’t know.”

He was still watching her in curious silence. 

“So, I really didn’t want to slip up or say anything about...you.” Y/N paused to take a sip of her tea, deciding to not try to look at Draco again. “So I decided to tell Sylvia and Lizzy that I told you my feelings for you and you didn’t return them.”

A clang startled her enough to look up. Draco was staring, completely frozen. His fork had fallen into the syrup on his plate, handle and all.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. 

“I mean, oh, fuck. Um.” She smiled at him, hoping it was going to distract from her audible stumble. “Obviously, I made it all up. I mean, both sides! But what’s important is that they bought it, and now they’re probably going to give you a little shit for not liking me ‘back’. So I’m sorry about that.”

“Made it all up, huh?” His voice had a surprisingly teasing lilt. 

“Yes, that is in fact what I said,” she responded, hoping that her cheeks weren’t as red as they felt hot.

“Is it really now?” 

“Draco!” 

He rolled his eyes. “I’ll be back. I need a new fork.”

“Just wipe off the handle of the one you have now--Draco, why are you getting up? Stop!”

~ 

To her disappointment, none of her friends were able to show. Sylvia and Lizzy made a concerted effort to try and convince their family to let them brave the walk, but once another flurry started up outside, it was hopeless. Her face turned pink whenever she thought about the fact that she hadn’t even needed to tell Draco the thing that made her slip up in the first place. 

Y/N, disappointed but not surprised, told Draco that she still wanted to celebrate, even if it was just with him. He’d snorted at this--asking her why she made it seem like such a burden--but once she produced a yellow glass bottle and a deck of cards and told him she bet that she was going to beat his sorry ass, he caved.

She started with a heavy lead, but once Draco learned the rules and strategies of the slightly convoluted Go Fish game, he proved to be a worthy match. They played until around 11:45 when the bottle was about 3/4 full and Y/N was feeling the pleasant warmth of being slightly intoxicated. Once she noticed the time, she threw her cards on the table. 

“Let’s watch the ball drop,” Y/N said with no further explanation, even when Draco looked to her for one. She grabbed the bottle and his hand, pulling him up the stairs to her room. The remote control for her TV was a struggle to find--it was all the way tucked back in her nightstand drawer--but thankfully the channel was already set. 

“You forgot the cups,” Draco said, staring down at the opened bottle held in his hand.

“You can get them if you want,” she managed.

“You should! You forgot them.”

“Too far,” she whined, flopping to lean back on her pillows while Draco followed suit. His hair smelled like peppermint. Without much more thought, she moved close enough that their shoulders were touching. He didn’t move away--instead, he lifted the bottle to his lips and took a drink directly. 

“Your New Year’s traditions are weird as fuck,” he murmured as he watched Savannah Guthrie on the screen. He didn’t have to speak very loud for her to hear him, and it seemed like he knew this.

“Oh, you haven’t even heard it all yet,” said Y/N. “We’ve got a tradition to kiss someone going into the New Year. New Year’s kiss, I guess. I’m sure you can imagine the kind of drama that creates.”

“What d’you mean?”

“You don’t have to be dating to kiss someone, sometimes people just...do it. As friends.” Y/N reached over to the bottle and took a swig herself, feeling the warmth trickle down her throat.

“Take it easy,” he tutted, pulling the bottle away from her before taking another drink himself. 

“Hey! Says you!”

“Because I can actually hold my liquor well,” he teased, giving her a shove.

“The fuck are you talking about?”

“You just kept getting worse and worse at whatever that game was,” he told her matter-of-factly.

“Give it here,” she said, reaching across his chest to where he was holding the bottle, out and above his head. She hoped he couldn’t tell how much this side of him filled her with glee. “That’s not fair!”

“Not fair, huh?” He raised an eyebrow and met her eyes as he held it up even further into the air. His voice was startlingly low. “So what are you gonna do about it?”

Before she could muster up a response, the TV began playing the audio for the New Year’s Countdown.

10!

Y/N wasn’t sure if she was supposed to answer--or if he was just...flirting?

9!

He managed to set the bottle on her nightstand without taking his eyes off of her.

8!

The hand she had used to reach across him with was now pressed into his side of the bed, supporting her as she hovered over him.

7!

Without moving any part of her body, she dared to glance at his parted lips.

6!

Maybe telling him about the kiss tradition was a stupid idea.

5!

His hand, warm and soft,  reached up to brush a piece of hair away from her cheekbone. 

4! 

His fingers lingered on the outline of her jaw.

3!

2!

1!

He was kissing her before the cheers from the TV even had the chance to bounce around the room, both hands cupping her face and pulling her in so desperately that it took her breath away.

Her hands found his shoulders, then the back of his neck, and then, eventually his hair. It was just as soft as she imagined it to be. They started out innocently enough--closed mouth kisses and only their hands touching each other above the shoulders--but once she tugged on his hair (mostly by accident) something...shifted. 

Suddenly he was on top of her, and suddenly her leg was wrapped around him as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss. It occurred to her that this was no longer just a New Year’s kiss. He tasted of lemon and sugar--and was notably better at what he was doing than any of the people she’d kissed before. Or maybe it was the alcohol clouding her judgement. Regardless, she liked whatever was going on. His hands had drifted from her face to her neck to her hair to her shoulder, gently tracing the outline of her bra strap. She brushed her hand down his chest, pulling gently at the collar on his shirt. Only when his leg pressed up into her and her breath hitched did she realize the weight of their situation.

The way he pulled away to hover over her signaled that he’d had the same revelation, his eyes wide as he stared down at her. “Um…”

“Yeah?” Dread crept into her despite the pleasant haze she was in. 

He swallowed, hard. “I can’t believe I did that.”

Draco was on the other side of the bed in seconds, wringing his hands and keeping his eyes fixed on her floor. “Oh, my god, I can’t believe I did that. I’m sorry. I’m drunk and I’m not thinking straight. I’m so sorry.”

“Is something wrong?” She didn’t know if he wanted her to touch him, but she wanted so badly to place a steadying hand on his shoulder. “Did you not want...it?”

He scoffed and turned his gaze up to the ceiling. “I had too much to drink. I’m sorry.”

“Oh.” Y/N felt the blood drain from her face as she fell back on the bed.

That’s all it was. A drunken mistake. 

Tears pricked at her eyes as she surveyed her options. Despite the fact that she was drunk off her ass, she knew she couldn’t just tell him to leave without making her feelings clear. She never explicitly told him that she wanted him and it wasn’t like she moaned his name or anything--thank god--but what other option did she have? She didn’t want to cry in front of him, and if he stayed in her room any longer he would without a doubt witness her alcohol induced cry fest. 

NBC finally switched to ads, and Y/N granted herself permission to mourn the fact that Flo from Progressive would forever be ruined for her. 

It was dark enough for her to quickly reach up and wipe her eyes undetected, granting her enough confidence to sit up and look at him directly. “You don’t get to just...kiss me like that. I hope you know that.”

“I know,” he said. His hands were clasped tightly together and rested on his nose. “Fuck. Of course I know.”

“But you can tell me you meant it to be just as friends,” she told him, hoping he couldn’t see how hard she was fighting back a new wave of tears. 

“As friends,” he repeated, his tone flat. 

“As friends,” she said. 

“I don’t think either of us are daft enough to believe that.” 

Her stomach twisted. “What do you mean?”

“Maybe things are different in America, but I don’t see you doing that sort of thing with Lizzy.”

“We can forget about this. It’s fine. I know you regret it.”

He exhaled, his breath long and shaky. “I didn’t stop because I regretted it.”

“Then why did you?”

“Because…”

“Is it because I’m a muggle?” His silence was everything she needed for an answer. “Okay. I had a feeling.”

“Y/N, it’s not like...I don’t know how to explain it.” He still wouldn’t make eye contact with her. “I just don’t know what to do.”

“About what?” 

“About this!” he said, dramatically gesturing to her. “About everything!”

“I don’t understand.” The tears began pricking in the corners of her eyes again despite her best efforts. 

Draco finally looked at her. She was shocked by how genuinely distressed he looked--the last time he looked at her like this, she’d been laying on the ground outside of the antique sore. “I don’t expect you to.”

His tone was low, careful. He was holding back.

“Can you just tell me how you feel about me, then? Just so I know?”

“It’s not that--” He stopped himself, sucking in another breath before he continued. “I shouldn’t. It’s not right of me.” He groaned, flopping onto his back and covering his face. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“Hey,” Y/N said, reaching out to awkwardly pat his shoulder. “I meant it when I said that we could just forget about it. We’re friends, Draco. Just friends. I know you didn’t mean it. Let’s just pretend this never happened, ok?”

He was quiet for a bit before responding. “Did you...want me to kiss you? Did I make you uncomfortable?”

“Uncomfortable?”

“As in, did you want me to stop?”

“Oh.” Y/N cracked her knuckles. “You didn’t violate me if you’re asking to gauge how guilty you should be.” 

“I’m glad to hear that, but that’s not why I’m asking.”

“Okay,” she said simply. He was still laying in her bed, and she hated the fact that her bed was going to smell like him until she washed everything. 

“So?” He raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t answer.”

“We’re friends, Draco.” She sent him a weak smile as she repeated her previous sentiment. “I trust you, so you didn’t make me uncomfortable.” 

She was aware of the fact that her sentence didn’t exactly track, but she wasn’t particularly concerned with the literary quality of her speech.

“That still doesn’t answer my other question.”

“I…” She felt her throat dry up. “I want--I wanted you to kiss me. I’ve wanted you to kiss me for a while now.” 

At this, he finally sat up and looked her in the eyes. She thought she could see the briefest glint of relief pass over his face before he managed to rein it back to a neutral expression.

“Did you want to kiss me?”

“I was the one who kissed you, not the other way around, yeah?”

“That still doesn’t answer my question,” she snipped, hoping he caught on to her mocking. She’d missed sparring with him. 

“Yes, I kissed you because I wanted to, not for some weird ulterior motive,” he responded, rolling his eyes despite the fact that his cheeks were clearly very pink, even in her dimly lit room. “Though I agree it’s best if we just stayed friends.”

“Yeah.” She felt her face fall, but she managed to catch it before she looked too devastated. “It’s all water under the bridge. Now we know not to drink together again.”

“That too.” He shifted, clearing his throat before making eye contact with her again with an uncharacteristically soft expression. “But the damage is already done, I suppose?”

“I suppose,” she echoed. “You wanted to kiss me? Actually?”

“Should we really talk about this? After what we just said about staying friends?”

“We’re going to feel regret tomorrow morning no matter what we do now, “ said Y/N. “Might as well.”

He smiled one of his rare smiles--the ones where his eyes went all soft and he dipped his head to hide it. “Yes. I really do. Want to kiss you, that is.”

“I really want you to kiss me,” she blurted out before slapping her hand over her mouth in shock. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.” 

His smile morphed into more of a smirk as he crept closer, his hand resting on top of her knee. “So can I do it again?”

“Draco…” She sighed.

“The damage is already done,” he repeated as he reached his hand up to brush a lock of her hair behind her ear, his fingers dragging down her neck. The smug look that formed on his face after she drew a quick breath in confirmed that he knew what he was doing, that fucker. “You said it yourself--we’re just friends.”

“I’m going to hate myself in the morning if I say yes.”

 Draco’s hand drifted over her jaw, his thumb pausing to trace over her bottom lip. “You can hate me instead.” 

This time, it didn’t surprise her so much when he leaned in. He was notably less desperate, taking time to draw breaths in between kisses and lacing his fingers through hers, squeezing. Once he seemed satisfied, he lifted her chin and brushed the hair away from her neck, kissing down from her jaw to her collarbone. She shivered, and he drew her closer by wrapping his arms around her until she was sitting on his lap.

“Wow, you’re such a good friend, Draco,” she managed to joke. She could feel the smirk that formed on his lips as it passed over her clavicle.

 “Shut up.” His teeth grazed over her delicate skin before he sucked, eliciting a gasp from her. She could feel him smile again. 

His hands teased the bottom hemline of her sweater, his fingers tangling in the fabric but not moving it. She sucked in a breath, feeling his hands ghost over her skin. 

“Are you okay with…”

“Yes!” The answer came out much quicker than she would’ve liked, but the grin on Draco’s face made it completely worth the momentary embarrassment as he helped her out of the thick cable-knit sweater. “Now is your chance to dote on me and tell me how beautiful I am. As a friend, of course.”

“You stole the words right out of my mouth,” he said. He looked like he was positively glowing as she smiled and leaned in to kiss him, slow and deep. His hands found her back and hesitated over her bra clasp.

Before he had a chance to do anything, Y/N started fiddling with the buttons on his white shirt, successfully undoing the first two before she noticed that Draco had frozen completely.

“Is something wrong?”

“Kind of,” he said. “Maybe...not now, okay?”

“I had a feeling that was too much,” she admitted, reaching for her top before realizing he’d tossed it across her bedroom floor and suddenly feeling very exposed.

“It’s not that…” he said, trailing off. “I just...should probably tell you some things before my shirt comes off. And I don’t think tonight is the best time for that.”

“Oh.” Y/N tried to make herself look like she understood whatever he was on about. “Yeah, of course. Oh! Is it about that tattoo you tried to gaslight me into believing didn’t exist?”

“Y/N!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t gaslight you!”

“Here you go again,” she huffed. “I rest my case.” 

“And I am not getting into that now,” he said. “I didn’t want to talk about it for very good reason.” 

She reached up to his shoulders, dragging her fingertips over his collarbones and watching as he gazed up at her. “That’s okay. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

The corners of his lips turned up at this, and she took the opportunity to press a chaste kiss on the edge of his mouth. “I think we should go to sleep. We have enough material to regret for tomorrow at this point. Any more and I think we’ll be getting greedy, so--”

Draco cut her off with one last kiss, his fingers splayed out across her back, pulling her impossibly close before finally releasing her.

“Agreed.” He let out a sigh before sliding her off him and standing up to grab her runaway sweater. “Do you want to sleep in this? Or do you want me to get you something else from your dresser while I’m up?”

“Um…” She was frozen at the prospect of him watching her change clothes. “Probably something else. Top left drawer--just pick whatever.”

He sifted through her piles of random T-shirts before settling on one with the UChicago logo and tossing it to her. 

Y/N pulled it over her head, grateful for the fact that he wasn’t staring at her with only a black lace bra that barely did its job. 

“So, uh, I think I should probably go then,” he said. 

She fought the urge to ask him to stay. “Yeah, that’d be best.”

His mouth opened like he was about to say something, but he closed it and frowned. “So I guess this is goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Draco,” she replied. “I’ll look forward to agonizing over this in the morning.”

Once the sounds of his footsteps heading down the hall faded, she finally allowed herself to flop back onto her now Draco-scented sheets.

What the fuck just happened.

final a/n: hellooooooo ! it finally happened! i hope this didn’t seem rushed or unnatural to you guys but like. it’s been over 30k words and i thought you guys deserved something. yes i am going to be leaning into the whole “we’re just friends” trope while definitely not being just friends. yes i am going to drag astoria into this i’m excited i hope yall enjoyed