#and the lecture room beside us was so loud it made things even worse

[the---hermit]

Lectures in which the professor only reads should be banned. It is fucking useless. I can read it on my own, not waste time and money on my commutr and actually be productive, instead of wasting over half of my day to hear someone read stuff i cannot focus on because i simply cannot stay focused on two hours straight of someone reading out loud in a low voice.

[h00nerz]

who’s that girl!

TWENTY-SEVEN / not like this

prev | masterlist | next

warnings: y/n with a knife, alcohol consumption, mentions of murder, mentions of burglary, i think that’s all?

word count: 3.3k

YOU WERE ABSOLUTELY TERRIFIED. Crouched down behind the couch in the living room, a random kitchen knife clutched tightly in your shaky hand, and a pot sat atop your head like some kind of helmet. You definitely looked like an insane person, but someone would not stop scratching on your door! And the fact your roommates claimed there was a serial burglar on the loose made it ten times worse.

Felix said he was on his way. So had Yunjin, and Soobin. Soon you’d basically have an army showing up outside your apartment to fight the burglar. You just hoped they’d show up sooner rather than later, or else they might get bored of scratching the door and finally smash it down.

You didn’t fully understand the scratching, you didn’t think that was something burglars typically did. Maybe it was some form of psychological torture, designed to make you go crazy so by the time the burglar was in the room you’d be too insane to defend yourself. Well, if that was the case, it was probably starting to work.

Your phone began to buzz incessantly, and the sudden noise caused you to nearly leap out of your skin. You glanced down to see that Chaewon was calling you, and slowly picked it up and held it to your ear.

“Hello?” You whispered, keeping your eyes glued to the door.

“Y/N! You’re still alive!” You heard Chaewon exclaim, and in the background you could hear Yunjin yelling incoherent nonsense.

���Yeah! For now! I think the burglar is going to get bored of scratching the door pretty soon and come in!”

“They’ve just been scratching the door for the last ten minutes? It’s probably just a dog, Y/N!” Chaewon yelled at you.

“It’s not a dog! I don’t think dogs are even allowed in the building!” You snapped back at her. Besides, what dog would spend ten minutes scratching at your door, right? It was probably more likely than a serial killer trying to break in, but you weren’t going to take any risks.

The scratching stopped, and so did the beating of your heart. “Oh no… I think it’s only a matter of time… Listen, Chae, Yunjin, and Sakura! If I die tonight, I just want you to know that you are the most dear people in the entire world to me, and I’ll never love a man the way I love you girls! Please tell my mom—!”

The door swung open, and you let out a loud scream, ducking down below the couch to hide. Your eyes squeezed themselves shut, you weren’t prepared to see your killer just yet! You could hear Yunjin, Chaewon and Sakura freaking out on the phone, which you’d dropped onto the phone out of surprise. You waited for someone to yell at you, to direct them to the most valuable items in the loft, but nothing happened.

You slowly rose up to poke your head over the couch, and your heart dropped at the sight. Yeonjun, holding up a little dog, with a very annoyed Beomgyu and Soobin behind him. Oh. Well that’s what all the scratching was.

“Really, Y/N? You made us rush home over a dog?” Yeonjun asked, lowering the animal down to the ground. You watched as the thing that had made you more stressed than you ever had been before scurry down the hallway just like that.

“Hey, technically, I didn’t make you do anything!” You said in your own defense, standing up and unconsciously pointing the knife at them matter-of-factly. The pot you’d been wearing on your head slid off, landing against the floor with a loud clang.

“You know, I was this close to getting this girl to give Beomgyu her number! But Soobin thought you were dying so we had to run home!” Yeonjun lectured you, stepping towards you and snatching the knife from your still shaky hands. At that sentence, you snuck a glance at Beomgyu, who just so happened to be avoiding your gaze.

You frowned. “Well, none of this would have even happened if you didn’t tell me there was a serial burglar on the loose!” You snapped, squatting down to pick up the pot. “You should have just told me you wanted a guys night out, I wouldn’t have cared!”

“I am just so glad you’re alive, Y/N!” Soobin exclaimed, wrapping you up in a tight hug. “Honestly, I don’t know how we functioned without you before moved in.”

You giggled, reaching up to try and pat the top of his head. “Thanks for bringing them to rescue me, Soobin. You know, you guys can go back out if you want.”

“It’s fine, we weren’t having the greatest time, anyway.” Yeonjun shrugged, pulling out a stool at the counter to sit down. “Besides, isn’t Yunjin gonna be here soon to rescue you?”

At the mention of her name, you remembered they were still on the line with your phone. Or you thought you were. Somewhere amidst the chaos, the call had ended. You were about to call them back, when someone else burst into the apartment.

“Get away from her!” Felix was yelling and tackling Beomgyu, who had been standing near the door the whole time. You watched as Beomgyu shoved the smaller man off of him, yelling “it’s just me! It’s just me!” Felix got on his feet, like he was going to fight Beomgyu again, before realizing it was just your roommate.

“Oh. I’m sorry. I thought you were the burglar.” Felix frowned, holding out a hand to help Beomgyu up but he quickly swatted it away. Felix stood awkwardly, watching as Beomgyu sulked over towards Soobin and grumbling to himself. His eyes finally found yours, and he gasped. “Y/N! You’re alive!” He exclaimed, rushing over to envelop you in a hug.

“It turns out it was just some dog hanging out in the building! I’m sorry for making you come all the way over here!” You frowned, and you could feel him shaking his head against the crook of your neck.

“Nonsense. Even if it was just a fly, I’d run to you if you were scared.” He cooed, and you could hear Yeonjun faking a gag from the kitchen. You shot him a glare, and he grinned back at you. “Besides, it gives us the perfect excuse to hang out tonight!”

You nodded slowly, pulling away to gently pat his cheek. “Yeah, totally! I’d love to hang out!” You smiled. Truthfully, you weren’t really in the mood to hang out, since you were prepared to spend the night glued to the couch watching Titanic for the nth time, but he was your boyfriend, right? You’re supposed to love spending time with him!

For the third and final time that night, the door swung open again to reveal your three best friends, led by Yunjin carrying a baseball bat. As soon as she saw everyone in the room, though, she dropped it to the floor and let out an exasperated sigh. “Damn it! How did you all get here faster than us?!” She demanded.

“Because you drive like a grandma, Yun!” Chaewon accused. “Actually, no, you drive worse than a grandma, because Sakura drives faster than you!”

“Hey!” Sakura frowned, slapping Chaewon’s arm warningly.

Yunjin ran up to you, practically shoving Felix away from you so she could pull you into a tight hug. “What happened, Y/N? One minute you were saying your farewells, then you were screaming, and the call ended! We thought you were done for!”

“You thought I was dead and still couldn’t speed up?” You teased her, and she narrowed her eyes towards you at that little comment. “I’m kidding. No, it turned out it was just a dog the whole time, scratching at my door, and then the guys opened the door and I thought it was a murderer.”

“I told you it was just a dog!” Chaewon sang, allowing herself into the kitchen and opening up the fridge to pull herself out a can of beer.

“Hey! Stop stealing our shit!” Soobin snapped, and in an attempt to rile him up, Chaewon stared straight into his eyes as she popped the can open, raising an eyebrow at him as if to taunt him.

Soobin narrowed his eyes at her, and looked like he might be ready to stomp over and fight her, but Beomgyu put a relaxing hand on his shoulder. “Technically, I bought those, and I don’t care if she drinks one.” He smiled, and you couldn’t help but smile, too. It was sweet, seeing him keep the peace like that. He risked a glance at you, and as soon as he saw you smiling at him, his own grin dropped.

“Well, since Y/N isn’t getting murdered, we should probably get going.” Sakura sighed, standing up to walk towards the door, but you were quick to stop her.

“No!” You shouted, holding your arms out to block her path. “I just—look! We’re all here! Let’s do something fun!” You suggested, looking around the room to try and get everyone’s idea.

“Like a little party! That would be so fun!” Felix agreed with you.

Yeonjun rolled his eyes. “You would think that’s fun.” He muttered, and you shot him a quick glare that shut him up pretty quickly.

“Yes! Let’s do it!” Yunjin threw her arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug.

“Yeah, that’s a great idea, Y/N! A little party with all of us!” Yeonjun was not very discreet about his attempts to win over Yunjin, but as long as Yunjin kept rejecting him, it didn’t bother you all that much. Besides, you knew Yunjin, and you knew there was no way she would go out with someone like Yeonjun.

“Fine. But only if we get to play True American!” Chaewon declared, and took a long sip of her beer.

You glanced over at Felix, sparing him a small smile, feeling a bit of remorse for what you were about to get him into. You just hoped he would be able to handle how wild your friends were going to get… And maybe how wild you would get as well.

REGRET. THAT’S WHAT YOU WERE FEELING. A strong, overwhelming feeling of regret had washed over you, and washed the alcohol right out of your system. Just a few hours into your little group hang out, you’d already become sober, and it was all Chaewon and Sakura’s fault.

True American, your friends’ favorite game, was a plethora of different party games combined all up into one. Truthfully, you still didn’t completely understand the game, even after a few years of playing, but that’s not the point. The point is, one of the games that made up True American, was none other than truth or dare.

The stakes were much higher than usual, though, since you either had to complete the dare or answer the question one hundred percent truthfully, or else you forfeit the entire game for your team and lose immediately. It wasn’t usually that bad, but Chaewon and Sakura had gotten a little more tipsy than usual, and came up with what they considered to be a genius idea.

Spoiler alert: it was not genius.

“Y/N! Truth or dare!” She pointed a finger at you, grinning wildly.

Picking truth was definitely the safer option, but you were feeling a bit buzzed, and were in the mood for a bit of chaos. So, with no hesitation, you replied, “Dare.”

“I dare you to…! Wait…” She paused for a minute, holding a finger up to her lip and letting out a small hum. She seemed to be struggling to come up with something, but Sakura leaned over and whispered something in her ear, and she began to laugh maniacally. “You’re a genius, Kkura! Y/N, I dare you to kiss the person to your right—wait, left!”

At first, you thought she was talking about Felix, who was sitting next to you, but when you held up your hands to make L’s and figure out which side she was talking about, you looked over to the person next to you in horror. There sat none other than Choi Beomgyu, staring down at you with just as much shock.

What evil women your friends were. You knew exactly what their plan was: get you to kiss Beomgyu so you would finally admit that he liked you, but he didn’t like you, so that wasn’t going to happen. You had nothing to lose by kissing him, right? So why not prove them wrong?

You glanced over at Felix, mentally praying he wasn’t going to get all jealous over this, but he seemed quite the opposite. “It’s fine, kiss him, Y/N! We’re so close to winning!” He told you, then leaned forward to kiss your cheek. “Besides, I trust you.” He whispered into your ear, and your cheeks grew warm at the comment. You were thankful he was just as competitive as you.

So, you turned, ready to kiss Beomgyu, but he was shaking his head. “No, I’m not going to kiss someone with a boyfriend.” He said, holding up his hands in surrender. You frowned. Didn’t he just hear Felix say it’s fine? Why was he being so weird?

Yeonjun didn’t seem to like the sound of that, narrowing his eyes at Beomgyu. “No! You’re not going to make us lose! Just kiss her!” He shouted, reaching over to smack Beomgyu’s arm. His younger friend didn’t even seem to consider it, though, just shaking his head once again.

“Come on, Gyu, let’s just get it over with so neither of us lose!” You tried to encourage him, your fingers touching his cheek, but he pushed you away.

“No. Sorry, it was a fun game.” He stayed firm on his answer, even going as far as to stand up and get ready to walk away.

Yeonjun exchanged a look with Felix, and then at lightning speed, the two were on their feet, grabbing ahold of the two of you and dragging you off to the closest room, which just so happened to be Beomgyu’s room. Before you knew it, they were slamming the door shut, locking you and Beomgyu inside.

“You’re not coming out of there until you kiss! I’m not losing this game two times in a row!” Yeonjun shouted from outside, and Beomgyu groaned loudly at those words.

Now, you were locked in a room with Beomgyu, and beginning to regret everything. Mostly because of the way he wouldn’t even look at you, turned away and staring at the wall in some act of rebellion. You stared at his back, eyes beginning to twitch out of annoyance.

You weren’t sure what his problem was, but you knew it was really starting to bother you. Especially when it was keeping you from spending time with your friends, and your sweet boyfriend. Well, maybe sweet wasn’t the best word, since he had been the one to throw you in there.

“What’s the big deal?” You asked, narrowing your gaze at your roommate. “Let’s just suck it up and french a little.”

He finally turned around to face you, letting out a frustrated sigh. “Okay, fine. But don’t say ‘suck it up and french a little’.”

“Okay.” You shrugged, unfolding your arms from your chest as he approached.

“You’re sure this isn’t a big deal, right? It’s just so we don’t lose.”

“Yes! I’m sure! Let’s just get this over with!” You insisted.

He awkwardly placed his hands on your arms, giving his body a quick shake as though to stable his nerves. “Okay, I’m going to do it. Let’s just do this!” But he just stood there, staring down at you.

“Come on, Gyu, just do it.” You rolled your eyes at him, and he vigorously nodded at you.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m gonna do it.” He slid his hands up from your arms, so they instead cupped your cheeks. “Okay, three, two… Actually, you know what, I’m not going to do a count down, that’s weird.”

“Definitely weird.” You laughed, and he laughed as well.

“Okay, here it goes.” Finally, he closed his eyes and began to lean in with his lips parted, and there was something about his expression that put you off.

Now it was your turn to freak out, pulling away from him before he could kiss you. “No, you can’t make that face.”

“What face?!” He scrunched his nose up at you, looking offended you’d even said that to him.

“That face! It’s weird!”

“Fine, I’ll make a different face!” He rolled his eyes at you, grabbing onto your cheeks once again. He once again started to lean in, and he definitely made a different face this time, but it was somehow even worse, with an awkward open mouthed smile.

“No, stop! You can’t kiss me with your teeth!”

He released you, his lips curling downwards. “You know what? I changed my mind, I’m not doing this, I can’t do this.” He walked over to the door, beginning to bang on it loudly and demanding your friends let you out.

“Don’t act so butthurt! You can’t try to kiss me like a Joker then act surprised I don’t like it!” You scolded him, but he ignored you, continuing to smack the door.

Instead of letting you out, though, your friends all began to chant “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” including Felix, who’s voice was easy to pick out due to his accent. You were growing tired of being stuck in that room with him, and even more tired of his stubbornness. You grabbed onto his shoulder, whipping him around to face you.

“Come on! Just kiss me!” You shouted at Beomgyu, who once again shook his head.

“No, I’m not gonna kiss you, Y/N!”

“Just do it!”

“No!”

“God, Beomgyu, just kiss me already!”

“No, not like this!”

You froze at that, your eyes growing wide. “What… What does that mean by that…?”

His eyes were just as wide as yours, his lips parted as he tried to search for some kind of explanation. “I didn’t mean it like… I just meant that—you know, we… I didn’t—“

You stared at him, raising your eyebrows as you waited for some kind of explanation, but it never came. His face contorted, and he began to walk further into his bedroom, over to his window. “Beomgyu, stop! What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing, I’m fine, I just need some fresh air!” He assured you, opening up his window.

You thought that would be the end of it, but were shocked when he lifted his leg up through the window. “No, don’t do that! It’s fine, you don’t have to kiss me, we can just lie to them!” You tried to usher him back into the room, but he wasn’t listening, continuing to climb out through the window.

“I’m fine, I’m fine!” He shouted back at you, then you watched as he began to shimmy on the thick ledge below the windows outside towards the living room. You stood in silence, gawking at him as he escaped.

So, let’s get some things straight.

First, Beomgyu refused to kiss you for some game, getting the two of you locked into a room together. Then, he still refused to kiss you, claiming he couldn’t do it, not like this. And what did that even mean, by the way? Not like this? How else would he kiss you? Then, he decided he would rather climb out of the window where there was a high chance he could plunge to his death, than kiss you?

There was… One explanation for what he had meant when he said that. But there was no way you were even going to entertain that possibility. Because that would mean your friends were right, and you were completely and utterly in denial.

Beomgyu liked you.

authors note: those of you who have actually seen new girl know what an important episode this was and i hope i did it justice 😭 if i DIDNT and this is BAD pls don’t tell me bc i already know!!!

tag list: @therealhyunjingf @jakeshands @wccycc @captivq @sansluvr @luvdokja @squishy-maimon @urfaveuserlana @ufoundme @soobsfairy444 @millksea @jinjccns @zaeeeee @dimplewonie @baekberrie @luvsoobs @mazeinthemoon @moon-gyus @tyungun @soobsdior @qluvrv @txtkids @asunova @woncheecks @kaeslily @prettysung @ashxxkook @invusblog @okhoshi @kwnshi @lunaavity @stepout-09-15 @fairyoftaehyun @nyudove @ckline35 @pokyloky @dekusgirl @marsophilia @mutlishipperfangirl @7myoi @calumsfringe @jaxavance @yoongiigolden @17szn @wonioml @erodemyedges @jaycheoluwu @kosmoskookie @4vonly

[rafecameronsslxt]

How Come

Polo Benavent x Fem!Reader

Masterlist

Warnings: Smut and hair pulling

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Does anyone even watch Elite anymore? This was really short also, should've been working on my obx fan fictions, but didn't. oops.

Honestly don't expect much from this either, but like I'm in love with this man.

His bright blue eyes laid on my vibrant hazel ones like I was the only thing in the world despite Polo always seeming to hate me, but it went both ways. I don’t think I could ever hate someone like Polo, a caring and dependable person. It wasn’t always like this; Tension and heartache lingered between each other, which made our friends uncomfortable at moments.

   At one point, this beautiful man stood beside me. Not in front of me or across while his eyes wandered over my body. The memories of that awful night start to taint this evening, full of laughs and all of us being humane to one another for once. 

   I was dancing with Marina, our bodies swaying to the beat, while Guzmán, our brother, was having drinks with Ander and Polo. Sometimes I didn’t understand how Polo or Guzmán had still been friends after Guzman decided Polo needed a good beating for hurting me. Polo had a swollen eye and approached a broken nose after going to a doctor forced by his parents. My parents had a fit, blaming the fight on me and lecturing me about how this fight could ruin our reputation when no one besides Sam had been there. 

   Marina noticed my energy shift. “A, this is our night, not his to ruin, come on. lighten up.” My sister's radiant smile could cheer anyone up, and it did. She gave me hope with her bright red hair, which was different from any other in our family, and occasionally concerned me. I nodded my head as she took my hands, spun me around and had me giggling again. It never took much to cheer me up when it came to my sister. She just knew the right buttons to push.

   After an hour of chatting and dancing with my friends, I decided to freshen up in my bathroom, away from everyone as I started feeling suffocated. 

   I adorned my face with powder and stared at myself for a minute. I wore a champagne satin silk dress with a cowl neckline, which fit perfectly and cost hundreds, yet I didn’t feel happy. As an elite teenager, drama surrounded me, couldn’t stay away. He wouldn’t stay away, either.

   “How come you always run away?” Polo’s voice rings throughout my room as if the timing couldn’t be worse. “Maybe you shouldn’t follow me. It gets creepy after a while, Polo.” My tone is cold, like his stare. Polo always had a callous gaze that scared me, but after knowing him, I stopped caring.

  He analyzes me for a moment. His eyes landed on my lips and then on me in general. 

   “What will it take? I miss you, I love you, and I’m sorry.” Polo is pleading with me yet again. “You have said sorry so many times, Polo. Just stop it.” I couldn’t look into his eyes with my hands in his. His lips delicately pressed to my hands and jawline, too close to my lips. I push him away. 

   A loud knock comes from the locked door. “Are you coming out anytime soon? Ander needs you.” Guzmán loudly says while trying to open the door. “Yes, I’ll be out in a minute.” With that answer, the other side goes quiet. 

   I look at Polo, but he quickly picks me up and lays me on the bed. His body hovers over mine. Polo kisses me. I can’t help but miss him, us. “I can’t do this.” I put my hands on his chest, stopping him. Polo sighs. His forehead presses to mine. “Just give me another chance, baby. I promise I’ll be different this time.” Polo flips us over so that I’m directly sitting on his crotch. I can feel how hard he is. A calculated move considering he knows I won’t leave, not this time. “Do anything you want to me. Fuck me until you're not sad.” His voice is raspy and a seductive whisper. 

   I start rolling my hips on his slowly. “Take your shirt off,” I order, and he obliges. I glide my hands over his stomach, missing his body that was supposed to be mine. I lean down and kiss him softly while his dick rubs against my clit, making me moan away from the kiss. 

   Right now, I didn’t want any more foreplay. I wanted only Polo. I unbuttoned his pants and threw his boxer briefs onto the hardwood floor. “Undress me.” Oh, how I've desired this moment.

   His soft hands slid down the silk straps, exposing my perky nipples. A little smirk falls onto his mouth as my dress slides off and pools to the ground.  His hands find their way, grabbing my breasts and rubbing my nipples between his fingers. I slide his dick inside me, fitting perfectly like we never broke up. 

   “You like this. Taking control, having me all to yourself.” Polo mumbles, sucking on my neck, leaving purple marks to show I’ll forever be his. I nod fucking myself onto him, and feel his hands grab my hips, helping me go quicker. Moans fall from my lips as Polo starts doing all the work, thrusting into me mercilessly. 

   I run my hands through his black hair and pull hard at the roots. A smile forms on his lips, and he starts grunting. “Oh my god, don’t stop!” My eyes rolled to the back of my head, and I could feel euphoria washing over me. Polo’s thrusts get sloppier, and ropes of his cum cover my velvety walls. 

   I untangle my fingers from his hair, my lips part, and breathing heavily. Just before I get off Polo, he pulls me in for a long passionate kiss. I smile into the kiss, feeling like things might turn out well this time. 

[fandom-go-round]

hey there! could we get that classic summer cliche, the infamous popsicle? 😂 blue raspberry happens to be my favorite flavor, so i think the Prime universe will do well for this;

maybe June or Reader brought popsicles on base for the kids to cool off, but those things get drippy real fast in the Jasper heat so they’re pretty likely to make a mess of whoever has one. can we get some flustered reactions (from any of your favorite bots) to their human S/O lappin up a blue one? i’m always a sucker for suggestive summer

I’m not saying that I love the grumpy medic, all I’m saying is that he’s a cutie and I would pinch his cheeks if I could. AKA everyone wants me to pick my own bots and it’s just the same bots over and over LOL

Warnings: Sexual Situations, Implied Sexual Content, Bots Getting Flustered, Robot x Human Relationship

Optimus Prime:

Optimus is enjoying how excited the kids get at the prospect of popsicles. It reminds him of when Cybertron had more than just basic energon and there were treats to go around. He knows that Nevada is hot but he assumed the base was cool enough that they wouldn’t melt immediately.

He should be offering to grab napkins but the words die in his vocalizer as the blue drips down your throat. You’re making muffled sounds of protest so you try to prevent the spill from getting worse but it’s no use. It’s all over your hands, clothing and face.

Optimus tries to be respectful. He sees humans as complex beings with just as much autonomy as his kind. None of his thoughts are respectful as your tongue darts out (dyed bright blue) to lick the trail curling down your wrist. It doesn’t stop the thought that you would look good covered in his transfluid and if you would lick it up as eagerly as you did the popsicle.

His fans kick on but no one hears because the kids are shrieking and Ratchet is scolding everyone to clean up. He quickly excuses himself to grab something to clean up the mess, needing to leave the room as quickly as possible. He pointedly ignores the look at June gives him, the nurse smirking as Optimus tries his best to push the dirty thoughts out of his head.

Ratchet:

Ratchet has been trying all summer to get the kids to increase their water intake. No one is going to be dehydrated on his watch and it takes a little while for June to convince him to let them bring in sweets. As much as he grumbles about it, he’s more than willing to see the kids happy. It’s the sugar rush that he’s less excited about.

He warns them that the popsicles will make a mess but is promptly ignored. He’s grumbling as he turns back to the computers, seeing you struggle out of the corner of his optics. You’re enjoying your treat but it’s getting out of hand, moving down your hand and throat. Ratchet isn’t surprised to admit that he finds you attractive and the way that you respond to his flirting tells him that you’re interested too.

Ratchet doesn’t feel ashamed that he’s enjoying your struggling. You swear lightly as it breaks in half, catching it before it falls to the ground and just getting blue everywhere. Your lips and tongue are stained and Ratchet smirks as you start whimpering and dripping on the floor.

You must have heard him because you turn to face him, tongue ticking out of your mouth to lick the blue going down your wrist. Ratchet just raises an optic ridge, making a point of looking between your mouth and the rest of you. He senses when your heartbeat speeds up, quickly looking away and going to grab some napkins. He feels more than sees Arcee glare a look into the back of his helm. He’s going to have to follow up with you later then, preferably when the kids are gone and the two of you are alone.

Bulkhead:

Miko had been complaining all day about the heat and Bulk had to agree, it was getting to be a pain. He had been letting her hang out in his cab and blast the AC, perking up when June and you showed up. The nurse was quick to distribute popsicles to the kids, Bulk transforming to greet you. You gave a smile and asked about his day, both of you keeping half an eye on the kids.

He always enjoyed chatting with you; you were kind and always willing to talk to him. You never made him feel stupid and it was refreshing to have conversations with someone besides the other bots. Bulkhead loved his crew but they fell into old habits. It was refreshing to talk to someone new. And you were cute and smart and – ok maybe he had a crush. Maybe he had a big crush.

June interrupts your talk to hand you a popsicle and gives Bulkhead a wink before going to grab her own. Ok maybe he has a huge, giant, obvious crush but it’s fine because you haven’t noticed and he’d never ever tell you and Primus you’re making a mess everywhere. Bulk is frozen as you start struggling in front of him, treat already half melted and all over your hands. You’re a good sport about it, laughing and joking as you try to prevent dripping everywhere.

Please call back later, Bulkhead is not available at the moment. His processor has shorted out and he can’t look away from your face and hands. He’s not a completely obvious mech and this is too much for him. He should be able to pull himself together but he’s never going to be able to get this imagine out of his head. It takes Bee shaking his arm to bring him back to the room where everyone is staring at him and he’s immediately embarrassed. He makes a hasty retreat, Ratchet laughing to himself and Arcee smirking. June looks proud of herself and you’re just confused, asking if he’s ok. Bulk isn’t going to be able to talk to you for a week.

Ultra Magnus:

Magnus blames Ratchet for his impure thoughts. He had just finished getting the ‘Human Sexuality 101’ lecture from the doctor, something he didn’t think was completely necessary. There was no way they were going to stay long enough on Earth to have those kinds of relations, even if Ratchet gave him a knowing look.

He respects you. You’re a valuable part of the team and you add a level head that’s needed with the kids around. You don’t find it awkward to talk to him and go out of your way to make him feel welcomed. Ultra Magnus might find you… aesthetically pleasing as well but that’s only because he’s been learning about human art and culture.

He has nothing to excuse his thoughts now. He had tried to corral the kids into one spot to minimize the mess but it hadn’t worked. He’s in the middle to grabbing something to clean up with when he turns to see you struggling. Magnus feels like his processor is having issues rebooting. You’re trying to lick the popsicle as quickly as possible and then you wrap your lips around the bottom and suck. The sound makes him flinch and his fans turn on with a loud clang.

Now he’s a big mech. He’s an old mech. Magnus has, contrary to most bots beliefs, been in relationships and knows how to identify his own attraction. It’s been a long time since he’s felt these things and it’s a mix of exciting and terrifying. His ignores the confused voices behind him as he turns smartly on his heels and leaves the room. No one sees him for the rest of the day but it’s better that way; he needs to think about this and now.

[dreamkidddream]

I’d like to request hc’s of the Brothers and Diavolo reacting to an MC that’s so cute, she could pass off as a doll. If she stands perfectly still, she could pass off as a full sized doll until she moves again. She has adorable doe eyes, wears cute clothes (Lolita fashion or just has an anime girl style), and even makes cute desserts. If the usual MC was weak and frail to them already, Doll!MC seems so dainty, precious, and fragile; these guys would ban paper if she ever got a paper cut.

Oooooo this is really interesting! I can just imagine Doll!MC just making everyone so scared every time she moves because they could probably hurt themselves just bumping into a wall because they look so fragile lol. These were short, so hope you enjoy!

Update: here’s part 2 with the other Undateables!

The Brothers and Diavolo Reacting to Doll!MC

Lucifer

...maybe he made a mistake in picking you for the exchange program after all

You just look so delicate, and just so pure. 

You have definitely made cute little snacks and brought it to him while he locked himself in the office with paperwork

He lowkey highkey likes it no matter how he brushes it off with the usual thanks. Keep doing it, MC, he really appreciates it

When you get in trouble and he gives you the usual lectures, he can’t look into your eyes for long

Geez, he already can’t stay mad at you for long but now he can just feel his resolve cracking

If you get hurt oh Diavolo prepare for helicopter parent Lucifer

As soon as you accidently cut yourself in the kitchen (it would be the tiniest cut, barely noticeable),  you’re no longer allowed in the kitchen unsupervised and can’t handle anything with a sharp end (whether its a butter knife or kid proof scissors that would be safe for Luke to use unsupervised)

“Let me do it for you, I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Lucifer, thank you but I’ll be okay. It’s just a frosting spatula it’s not sharp-”

Will punish his brothers 10x worse and demons 100x more if he finds out you got hurt (doesn’t matter what the injury is, could be so much as a paper cut there will be hell to pay)

Constantly checks on you when he can’t see you in person

Handles you so lightly that you barely feel his touch

Move over Belphie, you’re the baby of the house now 

Mammon

Protective x100000

Is still tsudere around you, but doesn’t insult you as much

Who are you kidding as soon as he looks into your cute doe eyes, he forgets what he’s saying 

Complains about having to do stuff for you but doesn’t mind at all really. He loves it because it feels like you’re depending on him, and that makes him feel worth something.

“C’mon human, let the Great Mammon carry your books! You’re gonna hurt yourself and I don’t feel like hearing Lucifer’s mouth today!”

It was just your planner and a small recipe book that Luke gave you, and it weighed less than 10 pounds but okay. You don’t complain either when you see that he genuinely wants to help and do these things

Basically your loud guard dog and secret service agent rolled into one

He’s gotten into trouble more than once for “protecting you”. A student barely bumped your shoulder and Mammon already tackled him. Lucifer was not pleased (but he secretly understood)

He can’t help it that you’re weak and surrounded by hungry demons! It’s a pain to go through this much effort to just protect you, since you look so helpless

MC he’s just worried that you easily break if a demon so much as breathes on you but he likes that he can protect you because he knows that he can keep you safe. You’re just too cute and sweet okay??

Also stand in his room after watching a horror movie to freak him out and he’ll be sounding like Mariah Carey lmao

Leviathan

RURI-CHAN IS THAT YOU??!

Is for sure having an otaku/weaboo freakout moment

You blend in with figurines so well, every time you come into his room he asks you to stand next to them so he can feel that his collection is complete 

He does it sometimes when he streams so people can think he has a rare limited-edition life sized doll that they can’t get. Makes him feel superior 

DRESSING YOU UP IN COSPLAY 100%

You’re like an anime character but in real life and he does not know how to handle it 

Can’t stare into your eyes, it makes them too flustered because he’s used to seeing it in his otome games and not from an actual person that he likes

Who needs maid cafes when he has you? You even dress and make anime themed desserts (once he built up the courage to ask you to make it for him)

Has to calm his beating heart every time he talks to you, you’re too precious for him MC! 

Your like his very own idol, minus the singing and dancing. However, if you can sing and dance....

Levi.exe has stopped working 

Satan

Thought you were a real doll until you introduced yourself

He really thought that someone brought you to life Pinocchio style

You looked like a princess from the many stories that he read, and he was smitten

Treated you so graceful and elegant like until he had his rage moments, which he told you to stay far, far, far away from him until he calmed down completely

Secretly placed a hex on you to where if someone tried to attack you or touch you with harmful intentions, they would be somehow be subjected to looking at their worst fear

You were wondering why that random stranger was just staring wide at you with extensive terror, but then you saw Satan grinning, so you left it alone. You thought it was just some weird demon thing

Loved when you made him cat-themed desserts

If you wore cat ears while doing it, he will turn extremely red

If you meow for him, he won’t know how to handle himself 

Asmodeus

You are just the cutest thing he has ever laid his eyes on!!

Besides from himself of course, don’t get it twisted he’s still #1

He has most definitely had more than one photoshoot done with you both. And you guys have been trending on the Devilgram a couple of times already

Really you guys trend at least twice a month, and his fans love you!

They always ask where he got the doll from but he always laughs and says that “it’s a secret”

Imagine their shock when they see you walking and talking at RAD, some are amazed and some are downright scared

Fashion shows! 

He lives for dressing you up in cute clothes. Your style already suited you and he had great tastes so the new outfits he got you were just *chef’s kiss*

The cute little desserts that you made for him, he always posted it on the Devilgram before he ate it. They were just so cute MC and he couldn’t not show his fans!

Is the most careful brother when it comes to keeping you out of danger. He refused to let his body or skin damaged, and he wasn’t about to let it happen to you either! You are both way too dainty and fragile to let anything happen

Also spa days and self-care nights weekly!

You’re the perfect match made just for him MC

He finally has someone that can understand his struggle of being beautiful, bless you MC

Beelzebub

Soft boy is scared of touching you :(

He towers over you, and he’s scared to even be near you

It takes some time, but he starts to warm up to you

Is always gentle with you, no matter the scenario

Holding hands? He is hardly gripping your hand, said hand fitting loosely in his

Getting hugs? He’s meagerly holding you, not wanting to crush you

You once complained to Beel that it wasn’t fair to get half done hugs (if you were hugging, you were getting a real hug, not a scared one). 

He made you swear that if he was hurting you to let him know, so now you have your very own signal to use for him just in case

He was very tempted to wrap you in bubble wrap and just carry you around like that

He LOVES your sweets, even more than Luke’s and Barbatos’

No matter the size, he loves them, mainly because you made them and it was made with love, just for him

It always makes him feel so warm inside, and he doesn’t feel his appetite gnawing at him like usual

No one is dumb enough to try anything with you both in his presence and not, unless they want to end up either a: deep into the ground or b: into his stomach

You just make him feel all warm and fuzzy inside, and he just loves everything about you. He just loves you

Belphegor

Hm, you look cute 

For a human

Acts like he doesn’t care, but you’ve caught him blushing before (he still does it too)

Won’t outright admit that you’re charming in your own little way, but he does in his sarcastic way like usual

“MC, you’re such a half-pint. You’re like my personal sized teddy bear.”

Has cuddled with you like you were his personal teddy bear (and still does, but you don’t complain at all)

Has a secret sweet tooth and eat your desserts whenever you make it just for him (and he doesn’t even share it with Beel, that monster)

Demons just have to look Belphie in the eyes, watch him flex his claws, and they all of a sudden forget about whatever they were planning. Good

He hates that you look so fragile, but at the same time he kinda likes it

You just look so soft, and you’re just so kind

It makes him feel like he’s protecting and caring for you, and that makes him feel calm and peaceful 

Please make sure that he’s okay MC, he’s scared that he’s gonna mess up again

Diavolo

The Prince of Hell is both surprised and pleased at your appearance

Do all humans look this charming or is it just you??

If someone as soft as you can survive living and going to school with demons, then this is great

Knew that you weren’t a doll, but still liked to admire you like one

Has asked more than once for pictures, you are just too enchanting!

Wants to have a portrait painted of you so he can hang it up in the castle

LOVES you baking for him! Loves when Barbatos does it too (even though it is kinda part of his job), but it feels different with you. It feels...domestic in a sense. Makes him feel like Diavolo, your friend and very interested in being your boyfriend, instead of Lord Diavolo, the prince that will be residing over Hell in the future

No one would be foolish enough to hurt you. If someone was, they wouldn’t even get the chance to lift a finger before they were directly dealing with him. Don’t take his kindness for weakness, he still is a demon after all, the future King of Hell to be exact

Was scared of touching you at first, but quickly grew out of it! He can handle his own strength, and you guys also have a signal to use just in case he does squeeze a little too tight

Will want to dress you up in royal clothes (if you were okay with it). Nothing is wrong with your current style, as a matter of fact it suits you! He basically just wants to play a fancy game of dress up/have a fashion show with royal clothing

Will take 100s of photos, no exaggeration

Asmo will be jealous, so be warned

Plus, he wants to know how his future lover/ruler would look in a crown so he can start taking measurements. You can never be too ready, right MC?

[rocorambles]

Meeting in the Middle

Pairing: Sakusa x reader

Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Yandere, Misogyny, Controlling Behavior, Degradation, Non-Con/Rape, Spanking

Summary: Sakusa shows you that he’s more than capable of meeting you in the middle and listening to you for a change. But be careful of what you ask for.

A/N: This is for the Poly Wives Angst Collab~ RIP us and our never ending collabs we create for ourselves.

If someone had told you five years ago that you’d be dating one of Japan’s most eligible bachelors, a professional athlete fawned over by media and fans nation-wide, the epitome of the strong and silent type, you would have laughed in their faces. What is this? Some silly fairytale? The childish checklist of “things I want in a boyfriend” you’d written in middle school?

But life has a funny way of working and you find yourself in an obnoxiously lavish and rowdy nightclub, made only more crazy by the surprising appearance of some VIPs.

It seems like volleyball has somehow become Japan’s national sport overnight and although you aren’t necessarily the biggest follower of anything remotely athletic, even you know exactly who the rambunctious trio catching everyone’s eyes are.

You can’t deny there’s more than just a bit of appeal in the way their button up shirts cling to toned muscles, but you’ve never been one for crowds and you stray to the emptier corners of the establishment to avoid being swept by the crowd of excited fans. But when Atsumu cheesily winks and flirts as he signs scandalously bared skin of female fans, you mockingly gag, only to whirl in embarrassment when you hear an amused snort from behind you.

“Not a fan of Miya Atsumu?”

Staring wide-eyed and slack jawed when someone asks you a question is very rude and you want to answer. But you don’t trust yourself with basic human speech when Sakusa Kiyoomi is staring at you expectantly. So you shake your head side to side instead, heat rising to your face at the small upward curve of his lips.

“Neither am I.”

Atsumu never lets the two of you live down how he’s the one who technically brought you together, even if it was at the cost of his pride. (You chuckle when you remember his loud squawking when Sakusa recounts the dialogue exchanged at your first meeting.) But even months later, even after Sakusa has officially introduced you to the rest of the MSBY team, even after they’ve accepted you as part of their cozy and rowdy family, you can’t stop feeling impostor syndrome.

Dating Sakusa still feels unreal and you can’t help but feel like you’re living someone else’s life, stuck in a rose-tinted dream, playing dress-up and make believe as you parade around in clothing far more luxurious than you’re used to, whisked around on your lover’s strong arm as you follow him around the world from match to match. And as lovely as it is, you long to truly make this relationship your own, to feel the rawness and grittiness of love and life, to experience the charm and comfort of being true to yourself and knowing Sakusa loves you just as you are.

But your desire to be with him, to call him your own trumps your own wishes and you find yourself quickly backing down everytime you suggest something that he’s quick to turn down, desperate to appease and please him even at the price of your own desires.

He’s never outrightly rude about his preferences, never raises his voice. But somehow that makes the judgement and disdain in his dark eyes that much more apparent. You remember a rough day of work you had, the relief you had felt about being able to swiftly swap your constrictive work apparel for a pair of worn-in shorts and a baggy t-shirt. Your outfit would certainly not win any fashion awards, but you blissfully sigh at how comfortable you are as you call a local pizza shop, ordering delivery self-indulgently.

You could feel yourself becoming one with the couch you’re lounging on, the television playing in the background. But even in the hazy in-between of sleep and alertness, your eyes snap open when the door opens and you lazily smile as your boyfriend enters your shared apartment, returning from another grueling practice.

“You look like you’ve had better days.”

Your smile slips, anxiety flooding through you as you self-consciously curl in on yourself while his lips purse, eyes scrutinizing your sloppy appearance.

“Umm, yeah...tough day at work-”

“Maybe you should freshen up with me. You might feel better in a...real outfit.”

You know better than to think that it’s really a suggestion, cursing yourself, humiliation coursing through you when you think of how foolish you were to get so comfortable so quickly. You’ve seen the caliber of the women who lust over your boyfriend unabashedly despite his long-time relationship with you. You need to try harder. You need to be better.

Self-deprecation rips you to shreds as you painstakingly groom yourself, donning a dress you know Sakusa loves, applying a full face of makeup and a spritz of his favorite scent. And despite how exhausted you are, how much you’d rather be slumped on the couch, gorging on a slice of pizza, it’s all worth it when you see the appreciative look in his gaze as his eyes rake over your figure.

But worry gnaws at you once more as the doorbell rings and his eyebrow raises questioningly at the interruption. It’s a painful walk of shame as you plaster on a fake smile, tipping the delivery boy, the usually tantalizing smell of cheese and grease only making you nauseous as you bring the box to the dining table.

“What is that?”

“Dinner…”

Your voice trails off and you feel so small, so pathetic as Sakusa’s face borders disgust as he observes the offensive item.

“You didn’t cook?”

The disappointment in his voice has you spewing excuses and apologies, your heart shattering when he merely waves off your ramble, telling you he’d order a salad from elsewhere and to enjoy your meal.

You never order pizza again and a steaming hot plate of freshly cooked food is always waiting for Sakusa when he returns home while you patiently wait for him with a painted face and impeccable outfits.

Your friends and family tell you how grateful you should be, how envious they are as they oggle your latest high-end designer pieces, cooing over how picture perfect the two of you always are, staring wide-eyed at your gorgeous home, not a speck of dust or object out of place. Who would have thought that you would be the epitome of the ideal housewife in such a short time?

Yes, you wonder. Who would have thought? Certainly not you.

If only they knew how deep down the deception goes, how lost you are in this pretend world you’re stuck in. And your heart twists and turns when your friends share about the little and big spats that happen behind closed doors, giggling and sighing in an understanding you’re not part of when they playfully complain about how much work love is.

But it’s always worth it in the end because the good always outweighs the bad if you’ve found the right person (not to mention the makeup sex is a bonus). Or so they say, but you wouldn’t know what any of that feels like. Sakusa doesn’t leave room for any arguments, any disagreements, any hint of anything less than a perfect relationship.

Even in the privacy of your bedroom, you feel like you’re in a cheesy porno, dressed in the prettiest white slip dress decorated with dainty lace and a string of pearls around your neck. You feel like a doll as you’re positioned on the bed, eyes demurely looking down, letting Sakusa do as he pleases while he guides you, calloused hands roaming over your skin. You’re sure he means for it to be pleasurable and intimate, and you can’t deny that he knows your most sensitive areas, shuddering when he grazes over your hardening nipples. But there’s a coldness to his movements, a calculating aspect in the way he examines you, dark eyes scrutinizing every inch of you as if they’re looking for a blemish, a reason to lecture you on not taking care of yourself.

Yet as predictable and standoffish as he is, he does know how to pleasure you and you writhe underneath him, moaning, lower lips dripping in your own arousal. But you whimper when he growls at you to stop moaning so loudly, to stop acting like a slut.

“I’m dating a lady, not a whore.”

The words cut you, pain and emptiness mixing with the rising pleasure, muddling into a confusing and overwhelming mess insides of you. You don’t trust yourself to speak, hot tears pricking at your eyes, unsure whether a moan or harsh words would slip past your lips. But you know that neither will work in your favor, so like always, you hold your tongue, doing whatever you can to keep your lover happy. You close your eyes, letting yourself get lost in the tightening knot inside of you, submitting to the waves of pleasure that crash over you as you cum, fingers tangling in the rumpled sheets, back arching in ecstasy.

Only when Sakusa is asleep, his back turned to you, the two of you cleaned and freshened up, do you let your tears stream down your face, feeling more alone than ever in your shared bed.

You hold out longer than you should, much longer than you should, in the hopes that things will improve, that Sakusa will loosen up, reveal his true self to you, let you reveal your true self to him. It’s just early dating jitters, early relationship issues. Things will get better.

Except it’s months later and things aren’t better. If anything, they’re worse and you can feel the weight of his expectations and the stress of perpetually living by a prewritten script crushing you.

It’s time to put an end to this charade.

It’s just another uneventful night and you idly stare up at the ceiling as you wait for Sakusa to join you in bed. Your heart is racing, throat feeling dry and choked up as he slips under the covers. You’re terrified, of Sakusa’s reaction, of ending everything, of starting from scratch. But you know it’s the right decision and when he finally settles in beside you, you begin to speak.

There’s only the sound of your trembling voice as you quietly tell him how you’ve felt all along, how everything has felt so prim, proper, fake, how everyday just feels like another session of rehearsing your lines, making sure you meet whatever standard he’s set for you. You want passion, real love, fights, laughter. You just want to be yourself. You just want to be with someone who loves you exactly the way you are.

“Kiyoomi, maybe we should break up. I don’t think we’re right for each other. I don’t think I’m what you want. I don’t think I’ll ever be what you want.”

“You’re right. Despite how much time, work, money, and patience I’ve spent to better you, you haven’t changed at all.”

You’re left reeling from the matter of fact harshness of his words, the slight exasperation in his tone, as if this is all your fault, as if you’re just a bothersome misbehaving pet.

“Prim and proper? Passion? Fights? So you’re tired of manners? Tired of being a respectable woman? You just want to fight and fuck like animals?”

You open your mouth to protest, anger licking at the open wounds his verbal assault leaves behind. But before you can retort, the air is ripped out of your lungs in a stunned yelp as your body is swiftly flipped over, your face shoved into the mattress until it’s a struggle to breathe, fabric and cushion all you can taste.

Your arms flail as you struggle to breathe, nails clawing at the sheets, arms trying to push yourself up against. But it’s no use against Sakusa’s strength and just as specks of black begin to enter your vision, fingers tangle with your roots and you gasp as your head is harshly jerked up, neck bending painfully back, jaw forced open from the strange position.

You whimper, tears beginning to blur your sight as a calloused hand turns your face until you’re staring at a condescending impassive countenance.

“If you want to be treated like a slut that badly, I’ll be a good boyfriend and give you exactly what you want. Ass up. Now.”

There’s no room for disobedience and spurred on by fear and pain, you listen, awkwardly shuffling into position, shame heating your face at how exposed you feel. But it’s only the start and you scream as a heavy strike lands on your bare ass, more and more blows raining down upon you, until you’re sobbing for mercy, agonized cries forced from your mouth, thighs trembling at having to support yourself through the torture.

Your upper body slumps in relief when the hits finally stop, but you flinch when fingers methodically prod at your entrance. You instinctively try to lurch forward, away from the touch, but it’s no use and you clench your eyes in humiliation at the sloppy wet sounds betraying your arousal.

“This is the wettest I’ve ever seen you. You really do like being used and treated like a bitch.”

You wish you could deny it. You wish you had the spirit to talk back, maybe even spit on that handsome face. But all you can think of is how full you feel as Sakusa’s cock slams balls deep inside your dripping hole, how deep he is inside of you from this angle, how overwhelmingly pleasurable the mix of pain and lust is as he uses you like you’re nothing more than a warm breathing sex doll.

All you can do is lewdly moan and take it, tears slipping down your face, drool seeping into the ruined sheets, eyes rolled back in your head. The coil in your stomach tightens and tightens no matter how hard you try and hold it at bay, desperately trying not to cum, not to inadvertently admit your body’s betrayal as it succumbs to every thrust. But it’s too much, the unfamiliarity of this brutal pace, the overpowering sensation of his tip reaching new depths inside of you, and you shatter to pieces, pussy convulsing, body twitching, pleasure like you’ve never felt before surging through you.

All through it Sakusa continues his relentless rhythm, a sneer marring his flawless face as he watches you suffer through your orgasm, writhing underneath him. It’s disgusting how much you love this, pathetic, pitiful, and yet he’s harder than he’s ever been, more turned on than he ever thought possible. And all it takes is a few more thrusts before he’s spilling inside of you, a strong hand holding you still and tight to him as his groin presses against your ass, not an inch of space between the two of you as he paints your insides white.

Maybe you had a point all along. You’re absolutely filthy and wrecked and he grimaces at the tear, sweat, and sex stained mess he touches as he shoves your exhausted body away from him. Yet there’s a certain appeal to your disheveled appearance, how ruined you are because of him.

How beautifully you break.

Well if you have no desire to improve yourself, he can learn to meet you in the middle, learn to let you be the low-life whore you have no desire to move up from. After all, that’s what you said love is, right?

Accepting each other’s differences.

[ptergwen]

love is more than a word

w/c: a very ouch 3.6k

warnings: so so so much angst and an unhealthy (ish) relationship

summary: after nearly four years together, peter has stopped trying

a/n: listen y’all i don’t know what came over me when i made this but i think it’s the saddest thing i’ve ever written? uh try to enjoy tho

-

you never thought this would happen, but you’re getting tired of peter. it isn’t your fault. that cliche it’s not you, it’s me line doesn’t apply here.

at first, you actually did find yourself believing the it’s me part. you’d came to the conclusion that you expect too much from peter. he goes to class, he works, patrols, sometimes parties, takes you out when he can. he’s got a lot going on for a full time college student, which is a busy life to lead on its own.

it’s why you don’t complain when he wants to spend the night in and order a pizza instead of cooking together like you’ve been wanting to try. it’s why every time your friends ask you two to hang, you have to reluctantly explain that peter is passed out at eight o’clock on a saturday.

there’s a lazy “wanna make out?” some nights, if peter isn’t yawning when he steps through the front door. even that has lost its enjoyment. kissing peter doesn’t give you the rush it used to, the taste of his strawberry chapstick not flooding your senses and intoxicating you. it’s become predictable. comfortable. boring.

peter is boring.

you’ve slipped into unspoken routine. say your hello’s, work on separate assignments in different rooms. peter eventually yells something like “babe, you hungry yet?” across the apartment, his passive way of asking you to make dinner. you usually order takeout because why make an effort if he doesn’t?

you might watch one of the ten movies peter has liked since before the start of your relationship. he’ll usually fall asleep during it. no surprise there. his overpacked schedule exhausts him, which you’ve talked to him about spreading himself too thin. peter is too nice and can’t say no, so this is where it leaves him.

the main reason you’ve stayed with him is that he can’t take care of himself. he’s clueless about paying the bills, sorting his laundry, simply remembering to drink water. peter wouldn’t be able to go a week without you. he even says it himself.

“crap, i totally forgot about these,” when you picked up his special ordered textbooks from your school library. “can food go in the garbage disposal?” a rare time you didn’t wash the dishes. “thank you, y/n/n. you’re literally a lifesaver,” whenever you do a task for him that someone in their 20s shouldn’t need assistance with.

you didn’t used to mind much. he watches over the city every night. you felt you should return the favor. spider-man could use some help, too. after the almost four years you’ve been together, peter has become completely dependent on you. it only got worse when you moved in together your junior year. you’re concerned how he’ll manage later in his adult life.

you’d think he’d be a little more passionate about your relationship considering how much he needs you. you know peter still loves you, of course he does. that’s not what the problem is. he’s become content with the mutual feeling, so he doesn’t try anymore. he expects the spark to keep itself lit.

no more random joke of the day texts that he used to send you. he stopped surprising you with your coffee order in the morning, the one that he memorized the first time you two went to a starbucks. what you initially found most endearing about peter was that he remembered every little thing you told him.

he put whatever energy he had into showing you that he listened. he’d do it all with rosy cheeks and that toothy smile of his. it seems now like he’s under the impression that being in a long term relationship means none of that matters anymore. there’s no need to impress you, keep you guessing, make you feel special.

tonight is your breaking point. as you go over all of this in your head while peter lays peacefully next to you, you can’t take it. you’ve been making so many excuses for him. you lie to yourself. you’re desperate to believe this is okay and normal and you can work this out, and you can love whatever version of him this is.

but, you can’t. you can’t do it. you need to tell him now because if you sleep on this, you’ll end up feeling bad and be stuck under these suffocating blankets forever.

“peter?” you whisper his name, your back turned to him in bed. you haven’t cuddled each other to sleep in a while. his arms don’t make you feel held now, they make you feel trapped. you’ve been forcing yourself to ignore his look of hurt when you reject his open embrace.

“peter?” you speak louder after a moment of silence, except for his occasional snores. a loud one escapes him before they stop altogether. his eyes stay shut as he mumbles out a, “uh... huh?” your heart is thudding through your entire body. you take a breath in from your nose. “i wanna break up.”

the breath you let out next is one of relief, those three words that have been scratching your throat for months finally out. peter slowly turns his head over his shoulder. he blinks rapidly at your motionless figure. you’re still not facing him.

“what?” is all he says. his voice is surprisingly steady, the confession not yet registering with his sleepy mind. his eyes are burning into you. “i wanna break up,” you repeat and squish your face further into your pillow. peter suddenly sits up, flicking on the lamp on his side. he tries to sling an arm around you. you move further away until you’re at the edge of the bed.

“i’m serious, peter. everything we had, it’s gone.” your words cut through him harder than literal knives he’s been stabbed with. “i- i don’t understand. where is this coming from?” he rakes a hand through his mess of curls. you turn onto your back, looking up at peter. his eyes are fixed on your lower half.

he’ll most definitely cry if he meets your eyes. he really doesn’t want to cry, not ever again when you won’t be here to make him feel better.

“it’s been coming,” you almost scoff at him as you prop yourself up against your pillows. peter’s teeth tug at his lower lip. “all we do is this.” you gesture to your bed, slapping your hand down at your side. “i get tired,” he speaks quietly, refusing to look at you. “i know you do, peter. i know, but you’d be a lot happier if you ever listened to me.”

your statement comes off as condescending to him. he works up the courage to look you in the face. “are you kidding? all you do is boss me around, and i take it. i’ve never once complained.” anger is coursing through his veins and voice. at the situation, that he’s about to lose the one stable part of his life. you’re getting pissed, too.

“that’s because you can’t do anything yourself!” you throw the blankets off you and swing your legs over the bed in one motion. peter hops out of bed entirely. “my whole life, i’ve been on my own half the time,” he spits as he comes over to stand in front of you. “sorry for taking you up on your offers to help.”

your peter would never spew that shit out. he wouldn’t guilt you for something he’s in the wrong about. this peter takes you for granted. he has no clue how fucked he’d be without you.

the first time you spoke to peter was on your way to history 227. you’d recognized him from your class, much more interested in the pretty boy taking notes with his tongue stuck out than whatever war your professor would lecture about.

he was carrying some books, a pencil case that didn’t fully zip, and a five subject notebook. you watched him do his balancing act through the halls until his legs started to wobble. a knowing smile on your face, you tapped his shoulder. it was a gentle one so you didn’t scare him and make all his things fall over.

“can i carry something for you?” you laughed out and pushed one of your backpack straps up on your shoulder. peter only stared at you, his doe eyes prompting you to reach for his pencil case. “uh, no, it’s fine. i got it. see?” he proved that to you by hiking everything up in his arms. he gave you a smile of his own.

“are you sure? we’re going to the same place,” you’d checked again and pointed at his impressive pile. “i’m not gonna steal your sharpies.” “really, i’m fine,” peter insisted with a heart clenching chuckle. “you can have one, if you want,” he offered and attempted to unzip his case, one handed. you put your hand over his to stop him.

“wait until we get to class,” you let go of him, leaving the tips of peter’s ears a shade of pink you’d later fall in love with. “i’ll sit with you.”

peter was once determined to do things on his own, to be self-sufficient. it used to be something he was proud of. now, he’s completely incapable of holding his independence.

“we’re done, peter.” your tone is short, you getting to your feet. “you’d probably forget how to fucking breathe without me, but call it bossing around, i guess,” you laugh bitterly and go over to your drawers. peter’s face falls as he grabs your wrist, stopping you when you pass by him. “where are you going?”

no answer. you pull yourself out of his grasp with your lips pressed into a stern line. peter follows you step by step over to the dresser. “wait, wait. don’t leave, baby. please,” he begs you, getting onto his knees beside you. you’re pulling random clothes out as quick as you can. a science t-shirt peter outgrew is in your hands.

peter used to give you all his old clothes. the signature smell of his cologne lingered no matter how many times you washed them. they kept you calm on nights he was out late patrolling or away on missions. peter would sport a smirk whenever you wore them out in public, pulling you closer to him and complimenting the look.

it started when he was packing for his first mission since you two had begun living together. he’d realized he became too buff to fit in some shirts. remembering how many times you’d giggle at their funny sayings, peter gave them to you. you threw one on and thanked him with a peck on the cheek. it became your tradition.

peter would set off for a new continent, but a piece of him would stay home with you.

the stretched out hoodies and ripped sweatpants just sit in your drawer now. another meaningful thing discontinued. whatever he doesn’t want goes to may for donations now. the memory of what they used to mean to you makes a fit of rage burst through you.

you slam down his ‘find x’ shirt in the space between his knees and yours. you’re on a mission of your own this time. you aren’t going anywhere until you get rid of all the stuff that went from him to you.

“y/n, don’t do this. i- i love you. i love you.” peter chokes out, tears filling his eyes. his vision is clouded while you toss more clothes to your side. “i love you, y/n/n,” he whimpers again, and this time you briskly push the drawer shut. the whole dresser shakes. this is the most emotion either of you have shown in the past few months of your relationship. it’s a little too late.

“love is more than a word, peter. you have to back it up with actions.” you’re doing your best not to cry. the memories of how loved peter made you feel play in your mind. he briefly wipes under his eyes and shakes his head. he’s so oblivious. “i thought i- i did.” “exactly, you did. you gave up at some point.” your voice gets weaker as a tear drips down your chin.

you didn’t plan on breaking down when you imagined this moment. part of you wishes you could give him another chance. most of you knows it wouldn’t do any good for you or peter. you’re not right for each other anymore. he outgrew some sweatshirts, you outgrew him.

that takes you all the way back to it’s not you, it’s me. it’s really both of you.

for the last time, you pull peter in for a hug. the two of you need this. he loops his arms around your back, keeping them loose around you as he tucks his face into the side of your neck. you’re a mix of tears and sharp breaths with your chin on his shoulder. you bring a hand up to the back of his head, grabbing a fistful of curls.

he sobs right into your ear, effectively destroying whatever composure you had left.

even though you’re not in love with peter, you haven’t stopped loving him. somewhere inside of him is the goofy boy who asked you out on a post-it during class. the kindhearted man who gave so much of himself to the world and saved enough for you. the one whose fingertips left goosebumps on your skin with every touch.

seeing him like this, having caused it feels like a dull pain rippling in every part of your body. you’ve been there to soothe him during countless breakdowns over the years. you managed to stay strong for all of them. this is the only exception. he lost people, felt down about life, made mistakes. you were there to pick up each piece and put them back together.

the one mistake peter made that you can’t fix is not loving you right. you became his rock, his anchor whenever he let grief and sadness rule over him. you’d get him back to himself. he could’ve at least bought you flowers once in a while, or done anything that showed his gratitude. every iteration of awful put together isn’t enough to describe how he feels.

“i’m so- i’m so fucking sorry, baby. i don’t deserve you. i never have,” peter murmurs as he cries, wetting your skin that his face is still pressed into. your fingers pull roughly at his hair. hot tears overflow from your own eyes. “i should’ve done more.” his voice cracks on the last word. “that’s all i wanted to hear, pete,” you breathe out and pull away from him.

“does that mean you’ll stay?” he croaks, arms still wound around your body. his eyes are hopeful when they lock with yours. a frown pulls at your lips. “only for tonight. i should... one of us should sleep on the couch.” “oh,” his voice is gravelly, so he clears his throat. “i’ll do it.” you’re not going to fight him on it for once.

peter removes his arms from your waist, you sitting back down on your thighs. you give him a blink and you’ll miss it smile because you can’t keep one for long. it’s to let him know you’re not mad. you were at the start of this conversation, then he took accountability. you also came to terms with the fact that the downfall of your relationship was a joined effort.

there are more factors than peter not giving you what he should have. time, different goals, new outlooks on life. you can’t hate only him because a whole bunch of things lead to this.

instead of a smile, since he physically can’t put one on his splotchy face, peter brushes the pad of his thumb over the corner of your lips. he gets up to leave the room, but you stop him with a “wait!” he freezes in front of you. you get out a hoodie from his pile of old clothes and stand up. “it’s cold.” you put it in his hands, earning a grin that he didn’t think was possible.

“thanks, y/n,” peter sighs and holds the hoodie against his chest. “goodnight. um,” this is the part where he’d usually say i love you. “sleep well, okay?” the replacement stings for both of you. you’ll have to learn to fall asleep without hearing that phrase first. as much as you didn’t feel it anymore, you’d become used to it. “you too, peter. night,” you say softly.

you head back to your bed while peter walks out the door. he glances at you once, and you’re already settling under the covers. he shuts the door behind him before finding his way to the couch.

your bed has always seemed too small. it’s gigantic without peter. you aren’t sure how you feel about that yet.

peter lays across the couch, the hood that doesn’t quite fit him pulled over his head. he’s only wearing it because you gave it to him. you doing that not even five minutes ago was how you backed up your love with actions. it’s so easy. silent tears spill from his eyes at the realization.

he wishes on every star that he could’ve figured out he wasn’t doing enough sooner. you’d be together right now, had he just caught on. there was a time he prided himself on knowing you fully and completely. how to turn you into the shy one with certain combinations of words, what your schedule was each week so he could plan his free time around it.

your relationship became something he thought would last unconditionally. if only he was able pinpoint the exact moment he went wrong.

you’re right in the other room. he can go in there and bawl, plead for you to take him back. how could he do that and claim to love you, though? you’ve made it clear you‘re over him.

the best way for peter to show you he loves you is by letting you live your life, without him in it.

-

you don’t see peter again for weeks. he moved back in with may, and you got to keep the apartment. you were the one who took all the care of it, anyway.

your semester ended at the perfect time because peter isn’t in any of your new classes. the city is too big to bump into each other. you’re free from the hold he had on you, which would’ve been four years long since yesterday. you’ve been good at picking up his broken pieces for too long, and now it’s time to pick up your own.

for all the hangouts you missed on his behalf, you made up for it. you called mj the day after your breakup and met for lunch. she never explicitly said it, but she took your side. peter had a feeling because when he had the same idea as you, to lean on his friends for support, she never reached out.

betty is indifferent, ned stays cordial with you. his real loyalty is to peter. you can’t blame him.

peter hasn’t been doing well since you broke up. he’s not eating enough, he can’t focus on work of any kind. you were right when you said he would forget how to breathe without you. he often wonders how you’ve been.

he finds out today.

you’re walking around campus, heading in the direction peter just came from. he has a class in the building your last one was. the two of you are on the same sidewalk, opposite sides. he almost doesn’t recognize you.

mj is on one side of you, a guy he’s never seen before with an arm around your shoulders. you’re all laughing about whatever dumb thing your professor said during the lecture. your hair, which is done in a new style, flows behind you in the spring breeze. a smile takes place on your glossy lips. the smile is directed towards that guy. your new boyfriend, peter assumes.

you look amazing, and not only physically. you seem happy with your small group of people. peter hadn’t been able to give you that happiness in years, so it’s nice to see you got it back somehow.

he must have stared too long because you notice him. you fall behind mj and your potential boyfriend, both of them wrapped up in discussing your next project. peter stops walking. you do the same. he’s not sure if he upset you, or what’s going on. his instincts tell him to apologize. his mouth stays closed.

that infectious smile of yours appears once again. you thought about peter yesterday, it being your anniversary and all. you’d only let yourself remember the good things. they outweighed the bad ones when you look back on everything.

“aye, grandma! get over here!” mj calls to you, your boyfriend nudging her side. “take your time, y/n/n. i’m not in a rush to write seven long ass pages.” you laugh to yourself at the two of them. peter fiddles with the zipper on his jacket. it’s from the drawer of things you used to wear. “one sec!” you yell back.

“hey,” you turn to face peter, who’s giving you a tight lipped smile. “how’ve you been?” “i’m okay. just, you know,” he shrugs and clasps his hands behind his back. there’s a short silence before peter says, “you seem good. really good.�� he smiles for real this time. “yeah, i am. i hope you are, too,” you tell him and genuinely mean it.

you’d like to catch up soon, but it’s not right yet. you both need more time. “i’ll see you around?” you’re already starting to walk, backwards so you can see peter. “uh, sure. bye,” he gives you a quick wave and continues on his way.

you get back to mj and your boyfriend, his arm returning to your shoulders. they waited for you by the stoplight. “what’d ya get up to over there?” he teases, mj suspiciously watching your face for any tells. you carefully think through your answer with a grin. “love.”

[shokami]

wc ; 1k in total

featuring ; kuroo, kenma, akaashi, and bokuto

synopsis ; being in a poly relationship with four people was never an easy task, but things get worse when the squish of peace goes missing. poly! headcanons and drabble.

you started dating kuroo first, that’s how this all ended up happening.

next thing you knew, you ended up developing feelings for kenma, which you really thought was going to be an awkward conversation. turns out they were actually pretty ecstatic to be in a poly relationship with you.

as for how bokuto and akaashi ended up being a part of your relationship? well, you like to refer to that as a happy accident.

kuroo was very attached to a select few people, and it happened to be the four of you— so it was no surprise that you all hung out grouped together all of the time.

before you knew it, you were all basically acting like you were dating. akaashi would show up with lunch, or groceries, or with a moody bokuto at 2 A.M because ‘kuroo and kenma didn’t share you’.

you even got into the habit of showing up to every single one of MSBY’s games, and cheered him on from the front row.

it even got to the point where you were showing up at akaashi’s office to make sure he had lunch, or a late dinner.

don’t get it twisted though, you still paid special attention to kuroo and kenma too.

speaking of them, you indirectly hinted at the fact that you felt like you were all in a giant relationship together… to which kuroo awkwardly laughed and made a joke about it.

little did you know he had been thinking the same thing, and discussed it with kenma whether or not they should ask.

they never got the chance to because a few days later, bokuto and akaashi were leaving when akaashi kissed you, and kuroo accidentally dropped an ‘i love you’ to bokuto. this basically initiated the spider-man meme.

you had all gotten so comfortable being that close with one another, that things just formed on their own without anyone realizing at first.

that night led to a long conversation on whether or not the five of you could have a sensible relationship together.

spoiler warning: you did, and you guys were so disgustingly cute together.

it was a perfect balance. kuroo and bokuto were the loud duo, and you joked about how they gave the rest of you ‘scary dog privileges’.

then there was kenma and akaashi, who were the more silent and comforting, yet somehow still chaotic in their own ways—

you on the other hand, managed to be the mix that sat in the inbetween. your energy changed depending who you were around, and if it was all of them… it took your entire mental capacity to control them.

a lot of boundaries were in place, and everyone got days to be alone and take a break, and even days with specific partners for days out. it was the best way for no one to become overwhelmed, and it kept arguments and fights to a bare minimum.

your relationship is so healthy, and loving that it makes everyone else curious on how it works

you never have an answer, but it’s okay because not everyone needs to know

let it be known that in your house there is a singular reversible octopus squishy.

you and kenma are definitely the ones who use it the most, and bokuto is a close second.

akaashi used it once when he was tired and grumpy, and that gained him a lot of space from everyone and extra cuddles from you.

kuroo however, has never used it but he is in charge of keeping track of where it is and who has it. everyone calls him the mood watcher, he’s like your personal mood ring.

“TETSUROU,” you and bokuto ran into the living room out of breath, a look of terror on your faces. “Where is Mr. Octopus squishy?!”

Kuroo looked up from his spot on the couch, Akaashi sat beside him looking unbothered and focused as he wrote, “Yn, you don’t have it? I thought you were the last one with it.”

“YOU LOST MR. OCTOPUS?!” Bokuto whisper yelled, finally causing Akaashi to look up at the two of you.

“Kenma is setting up for a stream, and he is in a big bad mood— we need the octopus ASAP.” you calmly explained, pushing Bokuto in the opposite direction to look around the house.

The octopus squishy was seen as a sacred item in your house, and was always needed to express moods and the vibe of the room. You had vividly remembered giving it back to Kuroo last week, and you had no idea where he could’ve misplaced it. The damned octopus was vital for Kenma’s moods, and if you couldn’t find it… then you’d never know when the area was safe.

A bit dramatic, but it was a process that worked.

Both Kuroo and Akaashi began to look for the octopus with you two, and you knew everyone would get lectured for losing the squish of peace.

After about twenty minutes of looking, Kuroo found him tucked away in one of the many blankets around the house, “Okay, now who’s going to get it to him?”

You all fell silent, glancing at each other as the task presented itself. Kenma was the worst one out of everyone when it came to his bad moods, and none of you wanted to face his wrath.

“Kou I think you’re up—“

“HUH?? TETSUROU YOU LOST IT, YOU DO IT.”

“YEAH BUT YOU’RE FASTER, AREN’T YOU?”

Trying your best to refrain from laughing at the two arguing, you knew Bokuto would be the one to do it simply for the ego boost. “Okay take Mr. Octopus, you got this babe!”

Standing outside of Kenma’s streaming room, Bokuto took several deep breaths and prepared himself to run in and right back out.

“Speed. Speed. I am speed.”

You started giggling behind Kuroo, while he hyped himself up. Akaashi looked as if he was losing the remainder of his brain cells, listening to Bokuto recite quotes from the movie, Cars.

“Ok, Lightning Mcqueen…”

© All rights reserved by SHOKAMI. Do not modify, repost on any platforms, plagiarize, or claim as your own.

[ginnyweasleymybeloved]

summer breezes / george weasley

hi crew :) idk why i wrote this but i was in a george mood so here we go ;)

summary: george acts like he hates you, he doesn’t really hate you. you act like you hate him, but you don’t really hate him. chaos ensues.

slight neville x reader for a second

word count: 6.9k

warnings: swearing, george being mean, lil angsty, fluffy at the end, reader’s house is not specified <3, mentions of food, kissing

let me know what you think ;)

“And what do you expect me to do? By the time I’d even realised I was falling I’d already landed face first on the proverbial concrete,” you groaned out in exasperation, while your best friend looked at you with so much distaste that anyone would’ve thought you’d murdered his family pet.

He shook his head, a scowl as clear as day splashed across his lips as he reprimanded you for your heart’s foolishness, “Of all people…” he scoffed in disgust, “Honestly, Y/n.”

“You know, you shouting at me isn’t going to fix anything,” he rolled his eyes at your statement and racked his eyes over your disheveled state. You’d obviously been battling with yourself over your—unfortunate—crush for some time. As your best friend, Ron Weasley knew he’d have to soften up on you eventually, but honestly, it was your own fault for falling for one of his disastrous siblings.

You were currently sprawled out on Harry’s bed, across from the red-headed boy you’d known since you were in nappies, your arms hanging off the edges of Harry’s four-poster. Neither you or Ron had a clue where Harry, or Hermione, had disappeared off to today. Harry was probably on the quidditch pitch practicing while Hermione haunted the library, you supposed as you listened to Ron’s rantings, wishing they’d been there to mediate.

“—of all of my siblings too! You couldn’t have picked, oh I don’t know, Charlie? Or Fred even? Merlin, even Ginny! But no! You just had to go and bloody fall for the only Weasley who actively cannot stand you.” You only caught that portion of his rave, having gotten lost in the idea of being coddled sympathetically by Harry or Hermione. You adore Ron, really, he’s your loyalist and longest friend, but Merlin was he a total drama queen.

“Charlie is five years older than me, Fred is my wingman and honestly, I snogged him on a dare last summer and I wasn’t that impressed and in case you’ve forgotten, Ronald, Ginny is dating Harry,” you lectured, ignoring how he rolled his eyes as you continued, “Also I’m well aware that he hates me. You don’t need to keep reminding me.”

His composure cracked after hearing your depressed mumble, and with a sigh he moved from his spot on his own bed and made the short trip over to Harry’s. Ron gently pulled you into a sitting position on the edge of the mattress and sat himself down next to you. He let out a heavy sigh, still slightly shaking his head—he couldn’t seem to stop—, then he dropped a heavy arm around your shoulder and pulled you into his side, finally offering you the comfort you’d been seeking out in the first place.

“S’alright, Y/n. Maybe he’ll get hit in the head with a bludger and forget he’s hated you since he was four.” Ron encouraged, very weakly.

You released a sigh of your own at that, “I feel like I’m betraying myself here. Like I’m letting that stupid git win.” Ron couldn’t stop the laugh he let out at your grumble.

“I’ll be honest, I thought he’d be the first to crack. You can be quite scary when you get going.” Ron divulged, shuddering at the memories of when he’d been on the receiving end of your rath.

Your family and the Weasley family had been extremely close since before you or Ron were even born, which meant you’d grown up alongside all of the Weasley children. Of course, because of your ages you and Ron had been attached at the hip as infants and remained that way even now, late into your fifth year of Hogwarts. Most of the Weasley children simply adored you, as you did them. However, there was one boy who, for whatever reason, hated you to your very core and as far as you could remember; he always had.

He is none other than the younger of the two twins; George Weasley. Despite the fact that Fred was actually quite fond of you, his twin refused to warm up to you in any way, shape or form. No, the tall and annoyingly attractive boy had made it his life’s mission not to get along with you, but instead, wage a war on you that spanned for the entirety of your childhood and adolescence.

“When did things change? When did it stop being a challenge? When did it start affecting me like this? I used to take his insults like a champ! I used to get him back worse!” You wondered out loud, letting your head flop onto Ron’s broad shoulder as he let out a puff of air through his nose.

“You still take it like a champ, numpty,” he chastised you gently, recoiling ever so slightly when you lurched forward in complete defeat. Your hands shot up to cover your face as you rested your forehead against your knees.

“No! I don’t,” you murmured dejectly, lifting your face from your hands to make eye contact with Ron. “Do you remember the other night in the Great Hall? When Neville told me he thought my hair looked pretty? And George, out of bloody nowhere, comes over and says and I quote, ‘I wouldn’t waste your time on this one, Longbottom. You’d have a better time kissing that toad of yours.’ Do you remember that?” Ron raised an eyebrow and nodded in confusion, your voice seemed to be steadily rising in octaves as you recalled the events of the other night. He had to admit, it had been an unusually unnecessary comment on George’s part, but the youngest Weasley boy wasn’t really sure where you were going with it.

“Well do you remember how I had said, ‘how’s that girlfriend of yours, Georgie? Figured out a way to make her stop being invisible yet?’ and then remember I rushed off? Do you wanna know where I rushed off to?” You pressed, watching intently as Ron nodded his head, unsure if he even wanted to know. “I went to the bathroom and I cried! I cried, Ron! Over something George bloody Weasley said to me!”

His eyes widened at that. Never once had George ever managed to properly upset you.

“And over something as small as that? I’ve heard him say a lot worse to your face.” Ron said in disbelief and you nodded, expression mimicking his as if you couldn’t believe it yourself.

“Right? And it’s like everytime he says something mean to me now my stomach drops and it actually hurts,” Ron regarded you softly, his eyes sad while he rubbed your back as you buried your face in your hands yet again, “Do you know what’s worse though?”

Ron opened his mouth to hazard a guess but no sound escaped as he drew nothing but blanks.

“I actually care what he thinks of me now. As if I actually value his idiotic opinions of me.”

It was at that moment that Harry entered the room sporting muddy quidditch gear and a confused expression, “May I ask why we’re having a heart to heart on my bed?”

Ron shrugged, continuing to rub soothing circles into your back as he told Harry mournfully, “Y/n likes George.”

“Merlin.” Harry whispered, as horrified to learn of your crush as Ron had been. “But, Y/n, he hates you! I mean he really hates you-“ the chosen one was cut off by a pillow making contact with his face. Ron had chucked it at him the second he felt your form begin to shake beneath his touch.

“Bloody hell, Harry! You’ve gone and upset her even more!” He whispered harshly. Harry quickly set his broom down and plopped himself down beside you, leaving you trapped between himself and Ron. The green-eyed boy rested his cheek against your lightly shaking back and managed to snake his arms around your torso.

“Sorry. Shouldn’t have said that.” He told you genuinely. “Should we go and find Hermione?”

You only shook your head. Embarrassment quickly overtook you as you realised your were crying in front of your two best friends over George fucking Weasley.

“No. No, I’m okay. It’s fine,” you sat up and hastily wiped your tears away.

“It’s okay to be upset, Y/n,” Harry spoke softly, squeezing your middle in a short hug, getting mud from his quidditch practice all over you.

With a resolute shake of your head you stood up and faced the boys, who each looked at you with pity filled eyes, then you spoke as steadily as you could, “I’m not upset. He hasn’t upset me,” you weren’t fooling anyone, really. Your eyes were bloodshot, your cheeks and nose were red and your voice was slightly hoarse when you spoke. The boys entertained you anyway, nodding in agreement.

“I’m telling you this as his brother and your best mate; you can do better.” Ron told you honestly, he wasn’t lying either, you were the type of girl who could get any boy she wanted without lifting a finger. Well, not any boy—obviously— but that wasn’t anything to do with you. Ron had his suspicions in regards to why his brother acted like such a knob towards you, however he’d been thrown off his scent recently when the older ginger stopped being mean to you teasingly in favour of being just plain mean.

You gave Ron the best smile you could muster at his words, “You are absolutely right, Ronald.”

Harry snorted before making his way over to Ron’s trunk, he rifled through it for a few seconds before pulling out one of Ron’s jumpers. He casually tossed, what you recognised to be Ron’s Christmas jumper from Molly, over to you with a grin, “Put that on. I got muck all over you.”

You had plenty of your own Christmas jumpers made by Molly Weasley but they were all the way over in your own dorm. Besides, you liked stealing the ones made for the boys as they were usually far too big for you which made them extremely comfortable to wear.

So you happily pulled the maroon jumper over your head, the wool effectively covering your dirtied t-shirt.

“Oh yes, by all means, you two just work away.” Ron grunted sarcastically. In all honesty, he didn’t care if you stole every piece of fabric he owned, if it made you feel better, he couldn’t care less.

“Right,” you said, making your way to the door of the dorm room, “I think I’ll go for a walk before the sunsets, calm myself down a bit.”

The boys nodded, “See you at dinner?” Ron asked and you gave him a smile and a small nod of confirmation before you set off out of the Gryffindor common room.

Thankfully, you didn’t run into George on your way out. You walked peacefully through the gardens and behind the greenhouses, it was around five in the evening and the sun was beginning to stoop low behind the tree line. The days were beginning to take on a chill as October approached quickly, you’d gone out without grabbing a jacket and you couldn’t deny that you were beginning to feel the cold nipping at your skin despite Ron’s jumper. Pulling the sleeves further down your wrists you carried on, trudging forward through the fallen leaves of the garden, you weren’t ready to go back inside yet. Going back to the castle meant you’d have to look your problem in the face, literally. You settled on the fact that you’d rather endure the physical cold rather than the emotional coldness you were sure to receive from George at dinner.

When you’d reached the back of the third greenhouse you could faintly hear someone humming to themselves and a soft smile found your lips when you saw who it was. Neville sat on a chair in the greenhouse, right by a plant that you hadn’t a clue what it was called, seemingly humming the little tune for the plant in question. Despite his undeniable clumsiness, there was something about Neville Longbottom that soothed you greatly. He has a good soul and his heart is usually in the right place, even if his head is sometimes screwed on slightly loose.

Gently, trying not to startle him you knocked on the closed door of the greenhouse before you opened it and walked in, “Hi, Neville. Mind if I join you?”

Neville blushed slightly but nodded his head, “Course! There’s a spare chair just there,” he pointed nervously to the chair. Once you settled yourself beside him, he let himself relax slightly.

“What sort of plant is this?” You asked him curiously. You really liked plants but you weren’t the best at keeping them alive, Neville though, seemed to be something of a green thumb.

He beamed at your question and quickly began to explain everything about the plant before you. You didn’t absorb a lot of it but listening to Neville speak so freely, something he rarely got to do amidst the other Gryffindor boys, filled you with a sense of serenity. Between his voice and the light wind that blew against the glass building, you’d completely forgotten about your red-headed problem.

“—sorry, I’m probably boring you. My nan says I have a tendency to ramble.” He cut himself off, cheeks heating up as he rubbed the back of his neck bashfully.

With a small giggle you only shook your head at the brown haired boy, “You’re not boring me at all! I quite like listening to you speak,” you admitted although you felt a bit silly after saying it out loud. Neville seemed to grow even more flustered after the words left your lips.

His eyes searched your face for any sign that you were teasing him, but all he saw was your kind eyes and comforting smile. Not exactly sure about what to say to you, Neville made an observation, “You’re cold.”

You gave him a nonchalant shrug, “I’m okay.”

Completely unsatisfied with your answer, Neville shook his head in protest and shrugged off his jacket. He was used to spending a lot of time in the garden so he was usually sporting far more layers than necessary, just in case. “Here, wear this. You’ll catch a cold otherwise,” he fretted and you didn’t have the heart to turn his offer down, you didn’t want to turn it down either, you were absolutely freezing. Gratefully you accepted the jacket and wasted no time in pulling it on.

“Thank you, Neville,” he looked you over for a moment, you could tell he was debating with himself on whether or not to speak, after a long few seconds of his eyes running over you he spoke.

“You look nice- I, uh, the jacket. You look nice in the jacket- I mean, the jacket looks nice on you-“ another giggle left your lips and effectively put the boy’s fumbled ramble to an end.

“Again, thank you, Neville. You are unbelievably kind.” You told him sincerely, quite enjoying the blush that adorned his cheeks.

“We should probably head back to the castle for dinner now. It’s gotten dark,” Neville said, standing up after giving his plant a loving pat.

The walk back to the castle with Neville was nice. The pair of you chatted idly about school subjects and house drama, but you had to admit, you weren’t paying a huge amount of attention to the conversation.

“Thanks again for lending me your jacket,” you said sweetly, shrugging the jacket off as you reached the main hall of the castle.

Neville, who seemed to be in a perpetual state of bashfulness, took the jacket back gently, a rosy blush painting his features, “It was no problem, really.”

Neville had always been incredibly kindhearted, sometimes to his own detriment. He treated people with respect and never turned anyone away if they needed help with anything at all. He is sweet, honest, loyal and, whether you liked him or not, he is indisputably adorable. And you found yourself thinking about how entirely better your life would be if your heart had chosen Neville to have a romantic fondness towards.

After separating from Neville, you made your way towards the Great Hall. On your way you bumped into Fred Weasley, who surprisingly, wasn’t accompanied by his twin. He greeted you with a wide smile and, as he always did, he ruffled your hair.

“So! I have a proposition for you,” the look on his face as he spoke was nothing short of wicked, a pit of nerves began to form in your stomach with the way his eyes were lit up excitedly.

“What are you proposing?” You encouraged exhaustedly. Whatever it was would probably end with you running from Filch.

Fred lopped his long arm around your shoulder, effectively pulling you along with him as he walked in the opposite direction of the Great Hall. Any chance of you getting fed this evening had gone out the window the second Fred clapped eyes on you, you’d made your peace with it. “I’m glad you asked, princess- “ at the sound of the pet name you let out a guttural groan.

“Freddie, please, I’m not in the mood to help you make some poor girl jealous just so you can get a snog,” you whined weakly only for the boy to ruffle your hair and tug you closer to his side.

“Let me finish! As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted,” he paused to glare at you jokingly and you smiled apologetically, “I have a plan to make George stop acting like a prat.”

A disbelieving scoff left your lips, “Yeah that’s likely,” Fred laughed and pinched your cheek lightly before carrying on.

“Angelina told me that she heard you crying in the girls toilets the other night,” he informed you. Your eyes widened in shock and confusion, you didn’t think anyone was in there with you and you also couldn’t piece together what your moment of weakness had to do with Fred’s master plan. “And before you start, I know it’s because of George.”

“That’s ridiculous, Fred.” You lied, unconvincingly.

Fred laughed again, it was a gentle laugh that let you know he hadn’t come here to tease you but to help you, “I know it’s ridiculous and that’s exactly why I know you’ve been so down in the dumps the last few days.”

“Besides,” he started again when you remained silent, “Why else would Ron be giving his brother the silent treatment?”

“What does any of this have to do with your plan?” You asked, eyes sad and heart heavy for the second time that day. You’d only just managed to get the whole thing out of your mind, and yet, here it was again.

“Well I happen to know why George acts the way he does,” you met him with a raised eyebrow and a bored expression.

“Because he hates me, I know.” Fred’s lips grew into a wicked grin and he shook his head, coming to a stop in the middle of the hallway.

“That’s where you’re wrong. He doesn’t hate you,” he lowered his lips to hover right by your ear before he whispered quietly, “He loves you.”

With a roll of your eyes, you pushed the boy away, fixing him with a hard stare, “Come on, Fred. That’s not funny.”

“I’m not joking!” He exclaimed desperately, “We were in potions making amortentia, yeah? And Slughorn called George up to tell the class what he smelled and do you know what he said?” Fred retold madly, knowing full well that this was possibly the only opening he’d get to make the two of you realise your own feelings. Fred was well aware that you developed a crush on George, he picked up on it the second you began looking crestfallen when hit with a snide remark from his twin. He knew long before now that George had loving feelings towards you too, but their recent potions class was the only hard evidence he had to support his theory.

You shrugged helplessly in response, and Fred grabbed your shoulders and looked down at you urgently, “He said it smelled of cloudberries, daisies and-this is a direct quote-‘summer breezes’,” you stared at him numbly, not exactly sure what to say as the description did match the perfume you’d been wearing regularly since you were thirteen.

“That’s you, Y/n!” Fred confirmed and you pulled your lips between your teeth before shaking your head in complete denial.

“Lots of girls wear that perfume-“ Fred cut you off, ruthlessly.

“Name one.” You racked your brain but you genuinely couldn’t name another person who wore the same perfume as you. “You can’t, can you? Because it’s your smell!”

“Ok fine! So it’s my smell, what exactly do you expect me to do with this information?” Fred rolled his eyes in exhaustion at you.

“Blimey, you’re as daft as he is sometimes, do you know that?” Fred ran his hands down his face in exasperation before looking at you softly, “I except you to come with me so we can drive him mental for a bit and if he gets nasty I’ll embarrass him because I’m an incredible brother.”

You let him lead you towards Gryffindor Tower all while complaining about how you were starving only for Fred to hush you each time you let out a hungered whine, “We can raid the kitchen later on, love,” he promised and you sighed in defeat, “That’s the spirit.”

When the pair of you entered the Gryffindor common room, George was already there, probably waiting for Fred to return it. He sat one one of the sofas that faced the fire, completely relaxed and you hated the fact that you thought he looked amazingly ethereal with the way the flames from the fire lit his skin in an orange glow.

He hadn’t noticed you yet and Fred took notice of this. The older twin subtly slid his hand into yours and intertwined your fingers with his before turning his head and shooting you a mischievous wink. Fred Weasley was a nightmare, but when he was on your side, he never failed to make you smile.

Accepting that whatever Fred was about to drag you into would result in nothing but chaos you took a deep breath and followed Fred over to the sofa.

“What is she doing here?” George practically seethed, despite the intensity of his glare, you didn’t miss the nervous look he shot in Fred’s direction. What you had missed, though, was how harshly he’d clenched his jaw upon noticing your intertwined hands.

You decided that tonight you’d play the game slightly differently, if what Fred was saying was true, it would make things all the more entertaining. So, instead of your usual menacing glare and ego-shattering insult you met George with an innocent smile, “Was just hanging out with Freddie, thought I’d come say hello,” you said, sitting in the middle of the two twins.

George stared at you suspiciously, “Hello. That all?”

“Hi. No, actually, I think I’ll sit with you for a while. If that’s okay?” Fred was smirking from his spot beside you as he watched George’s face contort.

“You’ve never wanted to sit with me before.” He told you, squinting his eyes and trying to decipher what you were up to. He couldn’t lie to himself, he definitely wouldn’t mind you staying so close to him for a while, however he’d also sooner die then let you think you had the upper hand.

His and your composure cracked simultaneously at your next sentence, your truthful and somewhat vulnerable mumble of, “Well, you’ve never given me a chance to.” He knew you were right so he didn’t say anymore, opting to shift his gaze to the roaring fire, trying his best not to let his mind linger on the fact that you were wearing his brother’s jumper. His nose perked up at the scent that drifted from your spot, unusually close to him. There was no doubt in his mind that he’d fancied you for a long time, but, there was also no denying that he’d done a perfect job of making you hate him. Yet, as much as he wanted to just cut the crap, tell you that he thinks you’re the most insufferably beautiful girl he’d ever seen and kiss you and never ever stop, his pride would never allow him to cave. Especially not when you challenged him so effortlessly.

“So how come you were headed to dinner so late anyway?” Fred piqued up, growing tired of the lack of hostility between yourself and his twin.

“Oh. I was sort of worked up earlier so I decided to go for a walk ‘round the greenhouses. I bumped into Neville and I suppose I just lost track of time,” you explained halfheartedly.

Fred let yet another smirk overtake his face, “Longbottom, eh?” He wiggled his eyebrows and you let out a short giggle while shaking your head, sure, it would’ve been a good topic to tease George with, however, Neville was simply too sweet to be used as a pawn.

“Don’t get me wrong, he’s very sweet. But he’s just a friend,” George looked almost satisfied with that answer, his usual scowl making an appearance once again.

“He could do better.” It was a barefaced lie. Neville couldn’t do better than you. In fact, George was of the firm belief that nobody could do better than you.

“Of course he could, he’s quite the charmer,” you spoke wistfully, finally giving Fred the show he’d been hoping for, as you egged George on.

George pretended to think for a moment, “I’m sure he is. Personally I think you’d be more suited to Filch, although, I’ve heard his standards are quite high.”

You took the boy by surprise when you laughed, the airy giggle left your mouth had such a profound effect on George that he almost wished he’d kept his mouth shut. His heart was leaping and there were butterflies beginning to form in his stomach, he physically had to will himself not to stare at you in awe when your eyes turned to meet his. The glow of the fire only aided in showing him how gorgeous those stupid eyes of yours are. “Mmm, yeah I suppose I should lower my expectations,” you paused briefly and mimicked George’s earlier motion of pretending to mull over your options. Your next action had Fred practically howling with laughter.

“You’re available, aren’t you Georgie?” You’d asked in a mock sultry tone, leaning towards him and lightly brushing your hand down his arm. Loving the way he choked on air you got up from the sofa, not before shooting him a wink, and sauntered towards the portrait hole, “I’ll be in the kitchens. See ya later, sexy.” You directed the last part at George, who looked as though he’d been frozen in time as Fred’s laughter grew in volume.

Upon entering the kitchen, the house elves had fussed around you, handing you food at any given opportunity. You had finished eating a while ago, you were currently nursing a hot cup of tea while chatting away to one of the house elves, only to be interrupted by someone else entering the kitchen.

He set his sights on you and quickly moved to the seat across from you, a look of urgency on his face that reminded you of Fred, “Whatever he told you. It’s not true,” you raised an eyebrow, sipping your tea uncaringly.

“Mind elaborating?” You asked tiredly.

“Fred.”

“Thank you, George, very clear and helpful,” you grumbled sarcastically and the boy let out a huff.

“You were acting different. You know something. What did he tell you?” George demanded through gritted teeth and you only deflated against your chair. It always boggled your mind how everyone described George as the nicer of the twins.

Not answering, you decided to start asking your own questions, “Can I ask you something?”

“Seems like you’re going to no matter what I say,” he sighed out as an elf pottered up to him and handed him a cup full of hot tea. He took it gently and thanked the elf with such sincerity that you wished you hadn’t seen the exchange, simply because it stung to know he’d never treat you with that level of sincerity.

“Why do you hate me so much?” He sat frozen for a second. Your tone of voice took him by surprise. It was needy bordering on desperate, nothing like he’d ever heard you speak before, not to him anyway.

George took a sip of his tea and shrugged as if the question was a stupid one, “I don’t.” A cold, humourless laugh came from you in response, the kind of laugh that made his stomach drop.

“Bollox. I’m being serious, George. Tell me what it is about me that makes me so insufferable to you!” You exclaimed, heart rate increasing and tone raising in octaves as you felt yourself growing more upset by his reserved expression.

George let out a heavy sigh, the jig was about to be up. You were upset and merlin was he tired of pretending that he didn’t want you in every way, shape and form.

“Do you really want to know?”

“Yes.” There was no trace of hesitance or uncertainty in your voice, at this point you didn’t care what the answer was you just had to know.

“Fine,” he said all too casually and you knew by his tone that he, as per usual, wasn’t taking you seriously. “I don’t hate you. The only insufferable thing about you is how annoyingly gorgeous-“ you cut him off right then, with a scoff of pure disbelief.

Shaking your head rapidly, you stood from your chair and all but stormed out of the kitchen. His footsteps began to echoed behind you a few corridors later, he would’ve caught up to you sooner had your response to his would be confession not left him completely immobile. He called your name but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t stop. Tears stung your eyes and you absolutely refused to let him know that he’d managed to bring you to the point of tears. Not that it was the first time.

“Bloody hell, Y/n! Hold on would you?” He called, finally getting close enough to reach out and grab your wrist. He spun you around to face him and quickly placed his hands on your upper arms to stop you from doing another runner. When he took you in he swore he’d never hate himself more than he did the moment he looked at you to see your eyes filled with tears, small drops escaping and carving a trail down your cheeks while you sniffed miserably.

“What?” You snapped, hostility the only thing you felt like offering the ginger in the moment. His brown eyes bored into yours with so much intensity but they held something you didn’t recognise. They looked sad, almost.

“I wasn’t making fun of you.” He stated honestly but you furrowed your eyebrows, your eyes set in a glare.

“Then what were you doing?” You croaked, letting your tears fall freely as the damage was already done. The sinking of your stomach and the tightening of your chest didn’t do a thing to ease your mind as George’s hands squeezed your arms.

He licked his lips quickly, he felt they’d become unbearably dry, and then slowly, he let his hands trail down your arms and took your smaller hands into his own. He hoped you were feeling the same electricity he was when he touched you.

“I’ve been a prick to you. You didn’t deserve it and I’m sorry.” He sounded sincere, but you second guessed him. For all you knew it was just some elaborate prank, Fred was probably in on it too.

When your gaze didn’t soften, he continued to speak, “So I understand why you wouldn’t believe me when I tell you that I don’t hate you. But I just-“ he cut himself off with a heavy sigh.

“You just what?” You squeaked when his eyes spent a moment too long observing your lips. You hardly had time to register the feeling of his hands leaving yours before they were cupping your cheeks instead. “What’re you doing?” You wondered, completely dazed by the way he stared at you. His warm hands holding your face causing your stomach to jolt in an entirely different sensation than before. As much as you wanted to push him away and tell him to shove his apology, you couldn’t help but take him in. His lips were parted ever so slightly and his cheeks were flushed, probably from chasing you through the castle, his hair was disheveled and merlin he looked like he wanted to kiss you.

Your question floated in the air, completely unanswered. Next thing you knew his lips were on yours. He kissed you as if you were oxygen and he’d just been drowning and you couldn’t help but move your lips harmonically against his too. Your hands clutched his wrists as he continued to cradle your cheeks. In all honesty you weren’t sure at what point he’d backed you against the wall, or at what point his tongue had entered your mouth or when exactly his hands had migrated to your hips, yours now tangled in his hair. His body was pressed flush against yours and the small groans he’d let out when you tugged at his hair or ran your tongue against his made you realise that you couldn’t care less if this was one big prank or joke. It was happening and that’s all you cared about.

Even as he reluctantly pulled away, he chased your lips with several shorter kisses before separating entirely. He rested his forehead against yours, his guard completely down now as he admired your swollen lips and heaving chest. The feeling of your fingers in his hair made it nearly impossible for him to keep his lips detached from yours, “You’ve no idea how many times I’ve thought about doing that.”

Your eyes searched his face for any sign that he was lying, when you found none you finally let yourself smile. A similar smile formed on George’s face, “I meant what I said earlier. I really do think you’re annoyingly gorgeous,” the boy silently praised himself when you let out a cute giggle.

“You’re quite cute too. When you’re not running that massive mouth of yours,” you teased although you weren’t really joking, to your surprise George let out a bellowing laugh before placing a fluttering kiss against your lips.

When he pulled away again he looked around the hallway, as if he only now realised where he was. Luckily nobody was wandering the halls since curfew was fast approaching and the unwelcoming cold that occupied the hallways left little reason for students or staff to be out and about. George slid his hand into yours again, this time intertwining your fingers with his. He gave you a hopeful glance and asked, “Do you wanna go somewhere?”

You nodded your head and let him tug you into one of the abandoned astronomy classrooms on the upper floor of the castle, Filch rarely ever patrolled up there which is why George decided on it. As well as that, since the classroom, which had been out of use for a good few years, had been used for astronomy the ceiling was bewitched to reflect the night sky.

George hadn’t come to this particular class in a while but thinking on his feet he remembered the cupboard at the back of the classroom used to hold blankets, he remembered when the classroom had been in use during his first year, students would be all but freezing during the winter, so they’d stocked the classroom with blankets to be brought out during the colder months.

He made his way over to the cupboard and grinned happily when his hand landed on a rather large woollen blanket. The material was scratchy but it would do for what he needed it for. He grabbed one more blanket from the dusty press before he made his way back over to you.

George suppressed a chuckle as he watched you, your face completely turned up, watching the stars on the ceiling with awe in your eyes. He busied himself with laying the wool blanket out on the bare floor, the room was devoid of tables and chairs so he didn’t have to worry about finding a space. Once he was finished, he plopped down on the blanket and expectantly patted the empty space beside him, “Come on then, sit down,” he urged and you finally tore your eyes away from the charmed ceiling.

A small laugh left your lips when you settled yourself down beside him, he wasted no time in covering the pair of you in the second blanket. With an exaggerated sigh he laid back and waited for you to do the same, he turned on his side to face you when you did. In contrast to earlier, George had an air of nervousness about him as he deftly took your hand and began playing with your fingers, not meeting your eyes. “Just out of curiosity,” he began quietly, making eye contact with you now, “What exactly did Fred tell you?”

His question forced a somewhat smug smirk to crawl onto your lips and you couldn’t help but take the opportunity to tease him. You leaned up on your elbows and twisted slightly so you could look down at him, trying not to waste too much time admiring the view, you answered him, “Oh, nothing really. Your lovely twin just happened to mention that you had a very eventful potions class the other day…” you trailed off, biting back a smile as he groaned.

“Mhm and what was it that he said you smelled from the amortentia?” You poked his cheek and he closed his eyes, a tiny smile growing on his face despite his blushing cheeks. “Cloudberries…oh! And daisies, now, what was the other thing? Let me think-“ you pretended to ponder before George cut you off by pulling you down on him and pressing his lips to yours in a kiss much softer than any of the others.

“Summer breezes,” he whispered against your lips before connecting them again, “It smelled like you,” and with that his hand snaked to the nape of your neck as he pressed his lips against yours, pouring all of his feelings into it, hoping it was enough. In all honesty, now that he’d felt what it was like to love you, he didn’t think he’d ever be able to go back to pretending to hate you.

Once he pulled away you were completely breathless, however, George seemed to have more to say. “I don’t want us to go back to the way we were,” absentmindedly you brushed his hair out of his eyes, stroking the red strands soothingly as he continued to confide in you, his voice, face and body completely vulnerable to you. Something about him trusting you with his feelings reassured you that his intentions were pure and banished any notion you possessed of the whole thing being a joke, “I didn’t like it, acting like that but you were always so unbothered that I felt like I had keep one upping you,” he confessed.

“You always gave me this feeling in my stomach whenever you’d come over to the Burrow with your parents when we were little and I didn’t understand it. I just thought that it must’ve meant I didn’t like you…” George seemed to get lost in his own mind as he gazed at you regretfully, his fingers trailed the length of your spine sofly, “By the time I realised, we were both older and I suppose I just thought you couldn’t feel the same ‘cause I made you hate me,” you hummed in acknowledgment, your fingers still working his hair, keeping it out of his eyes that looked at you so intently that you could’ve drowned in them and died happy.

“But then the other night after dinner Angie slapped me upside the head and talked my ear off about how out of order I’d been—obviously I agree with her! You weren’t even talking to me but Neville was complimenting you and I don’t know… just got possessive,” he muttered the last part, losing some confidence but regained it upon seeing the little smile on your lips. “Then Ron looked about ready to push me off the astronomy tower when I saw him this evening. Blimey, I knew it had to have something to do with you since Harry was snippy too.” You had to laugh at the exhausted look on his face when he recalled your two best friends.

Mockingly, you gave him a stern look and clicked your tongue, “Well, perhaps if you weren’t so mean to me all of this could’ve been avoided,” George groaned once again, feeling guilty he pulled you even closer and buried his face in your neck.

“M’sorry,” you carded your fingers through his hair, pressing a soft kiss to his head. Your lips against his head caused him to lift his face from the crook of your neck, “Forgive me?” He asked, a cute pout on his lips.

“I’ll think about it,” you teased, giggling at the offended look on his face. George let out a dissatisfied sigh, he pushed a strand of hair behind your ear before giving you a toothy smile.

“Don’t worry, love. I plan on making it up to you.”

[detectivemarvelingcomics]

How about a request for batsis getting hurt during a mission and batboys exaggerate 😈 thank u!

I DO LOVE MY BATSIS AND BATFAM FICS LETS GOOOOOO

Also I’m assuming you want a reaction! If you want otherwise do let me know! So let’s get started!

Batsis!Reader Gets Injured in a Mission and the Batboys are the Only Ones Home

No Specified AU

TW: Language

Genre: Fluff, Light Comedy

[DC Masterlist]

Word Count: 1.3K

You skid to a stop on your motorcycle, leaving tire tracks behind you in the batcave. You could clean that later when you weren’t bleeding out. You stumbled off of the vehicle, your hand still clutching on to the bloodied towel that kept your uniform from getting dirty and took your helmet off. You had a rather dirty run in with a few lowtime criminals who some how got their hands on alien tech, how that happened you’d have to ask Star Labs later, but either way despite your many encounters with villains who were much worse, the sudden blast from a laser shocked you just enough for them to get at least a cut in. Regardless you took care of them quickly and took the weapons back, which were now pathetically hanging off the side of your motorcycle.

You rolled your shoulders back and began you ascent up the stairs to get back into the manor, it would be best if you cleaned this up as soon as you could because god were you tired. You opened the door quietly.

“Please may no one be home,” you said to yourself repeatedly. Your brothers had a knack for getting rather loud when you came back with cuts and bruises, but you couldn’t blame them with all of their unresolved trauma and the fact that you, miraculously, happen to be the one Bat that hasn’t either died and came back or gotten beaten nearly to death, which you constantly held over them because damn in this business that’s more than just an achievement.

You successfully made it to the bathroom and pulled out the small medical kit and started working on the shallow wound, and right as you finished the shower curtain pulled back.

“Ahh!” You jumped back.

“Ahh!” Tim got into a defensive stance.

“What the hell are you doing in the shower?!"

"What the hell are you doing without a shirt?"

"I asked first!"

"You don't just sit in the shower to think?" You do, but you lock the door when you decide to do that. "Oh my god, did you get injured?!"

"No," you grabbed your shirt and hid the bandages that wrapped around your torso. You both stared at each other for a moment before Tim darted out of the bathroom. "Don't you fucking dare tell anyone, Drake!" You followed him out and ran into the worst possible person.

"Whoa, careful there, (Y/N), when did you get home?" Dick asks. Then he notices your bandages. "What happened? Who did you fight? Why didn't you call for backup? Where were you?"

"Oh my god, I'm fine, Dick," you walked past him and he caught up with you.

"Fine? Fine? You didn't even wrap that right, (Y/N)," Dick begins his lecture and you begin to tune him out right as you walked into your room and shut the door. Dick, knowing his boundaries, stood outside still lecturing you, and you walked out with a new shirt on and continued to ignore him while he shot you rapid fire questions. "At least answer my first questions, (Y/N)." You sighed, and without turning to him, said,

"Got grazed with a knife. Ran into some burglars that for some reason had alien tech. Didn't need it. Downtown," you answered his questions in succession while entering the kitchen, waving to Jason, who was getting a snack, and Tim, who was probably telling Jason about your predicament.

"Alien tech? And they didn't use it?" Tim asks.

"Exactly, they probably didn't know how to. But it doesn't matter, because I am very clearly fine," you reached past Jason into the refrigerator and pulled out a fruit cup.

"You're bleeding through your shirt," Jason points out. You look down and he was right. You let out another loud sigh and tear off a few paper towels from the sink and placed them under your shirt. "At least dress it right or you'll die from bleeding out rather than actually getting stabbed."

"Well, to be fair, if Tim didn't spontaneously pop out of the shower maybe I would have," you complained.

"You didn't lock the door?" Jason turns to him.

"There are ten bathrooms in this mansion, I didn't think anyone would go in!" Tim defends. "But that's besides the point! (Y/N), I don't think you understand the gravity of the situation. If they had alien tech then that knife could have been laced with something."

"Are you implying that I could have alien eggs in me?"

"Why's everyone screaming?" The youngest Wayne entered the kitchen. "I can hear you all from my room."

"Tim thinks (Y/N) got eggs implanted in her," Dick says quickly.

"No, no I don't. Besides, that's not how alien fertilization works."

"You know how alien fertilization works?" You couldn't help the contorted face you made at the thought of how he knew.

"You always do this when we call you out, (Y/N), the point is you could very likely have some kind of alien virus or bacteria inside of you that could quite possibly kill you!"

"Tim, I'm pretty sure it was a normal knife," you walked over to the pantry and took out a bag of potato chips.

"But, if what Grayson just told me was right," Damien cuts in. "How stupid could you be? Letting something as simple as a knife get to you?" He mocks.

"If you weren't a kid I would've punted you by now," you pointed at him with a potato chip and ate it. "Do I have to remind you about last week?"

"No," he scoffs. "But that's not the point. You're trained well enough to avoid bullets and you let a knife get close to you? How out of it were you?"

"I will admit that the alien guns that also shot Bruce did distract me a little."

"And you let them go free?!" Jason finally grasped the gravity of the situation. "What if they come back to find you because they're pissed?"

"Relax, I have them in the batcave," you waved him off.

"You could've been killed," Jason argues.

"Oh stop being so dramatic, Todd, I'm obviously standing here right now, aren't I?"

"One shot from any of those and you could've either been disintegrated or catapulted into another dimension," Tim adds.

"Or worse, completely debilitated and decommissioned," Dick continues.

"You could be dying right now and you wouldn't know it because of how dense you are, (L/N)," Damien was next. You continued eating your chips while they started to talk over each other, then you finally spoke up.

"Okay, I get it, I'll be more careful from now on," you spoke in a steady voice. "Now, I'm gonna go clean this up because I was so rudely interrupted by someone, and when I come back, this discussion will be over," you held your hand up to silence Jason, who was about to retaliate. Then you walked over to the kitchen door and pulled it off of its hinges.

You stood there for a good few seconds, staring at the door in your hands, and the ruined door frame. Then you looked back at the other boys, who essentially all had their jaws on the ground.

"Could she do that before?" Jason asked Dick.

"No..." the other shook his head.

"Alfred's going to kill me..." you laid the door against the wall. You reached for the water bottle on the side of the table and opened it, intending to chug the whole thing down to calm your nerves, but none of the water came out, instead the whole thing was iced over. "Uh..."

The kitchen was silent. You ran back to the bathroom and took your shirt off then the bandages, seeing that the wound had turned blue and had completely frosted over. The other boys followed you, their heads sticking through the door.

"I was right?!" Tim's voice echoed throughout the manor and you slammed your head on the wall behind you.

[shinkun]

bloom: part 1/2 (18+)

aizawa shouta | eraserhead x student!reader

[ read part 2 here ] 

word count: 3.4k

genre: alpha/omega, omegaverse, m/f, afab reader, student/teacher, smut with little plot

A late-blooming student finds herself trapped in the school, yearning for someone to ease her unfamiliar, painful urges.

warnings: 18+, smut, oral, fingering, cunnilingus 

notes: Hello, just as a warning, this is my first time in many years posting any written work so I'm pretty rusty and self-conscious about it (please be gentle!) Also - my first time doing any form of a/b/o, so I hope it's okay! 

Aizawa just released something feral in me that made me want to write a lengthy, lusty fiction about him.

This is Part 1 of 2 of this fiction. I wanted to see if there was any reception or interest in this piece before sharing the final part.

All characters are 18+. Reader is a mature student presumably finishing her final semester of school, or attending an extra year.

Anyway, please enjoy!

- - - - -

Aizawa gave a hefty groan, pinching the skin on the bridge of his nose. A nagging stress entered the back of his mind as he proceeded to the opposite side of the door. 

When your classmate had cornered him in his office earlier, wailing about how “Y/N doesn’t want to come out! She said she feels too sick to go to practice!” He already knew what he was in for. 

“Alright, I’ll go see what's wrong…” Aizawa nonchalantly replied, waving the boy away. “Go outside and start without her.” He commanded, not letting him get another word in. The student gave a compliant but nervous nod before exiting the room. 

The professor let out a sigh, perking his ear up to the door. He hesitantly raised his knuckles up to the surface, knocking on it with little force, but enough that it could be heard from the other side. He held his breath for a moment. A sweet, tantalizing scent crept from beneath the barrier between him and his student. 

“Don’t come in!!” Shouted a voice laced with panic in reply to the knock. 

“Don’t worry, it’s me.” Aizawa said, lowering his palm to the handle of the locker room. He didn’t need to speak his name for you to know. He was patient, letting you bask in the silence for a moment. The scent emitting from the room made a couple beads of sweat roll down the back of his neck, but he was able to shake it off. 

“I can’t let you.. see me like this…” Your tone was shaky and barely audible, but he’d caught it. 

“I can help you.” He persisted to push the handle downward. 

The bond you’d grown with your teacher in your three years at UA was strong and trusting. You knew that any advice he was willing to offer you would be right. He was always right. You were happy to have a mentor so willing to sacrifice his time and listen to you when you needed it, and this was no exception. 

Aizawa delicately pushed the door open, only an inch into it before the odor was able to escape, already knocking him back; angelic, rosey scents filling his nostrils. Saliva pooled underneath the back of his tongue as he took the fragrance in. He shut his eyes and let out another soft huff before propping the door open with one foot. He could sense your panic rising as he shuffled forward. 

“...I promise you’ll be okay.” He assured you, his hand curling around the frame. He continued to stay cautious and non-threatening, making sure you had enough time to prepare for his entry. 

“I don’t want you to see me so..” you hesitated, attempting to stiffen a cry building up in your throat, “..weak.” The word rolled off your tongue like it was filth. 

Aizawa entered the room, seemingly unphased by the aura of hormones that was now engulfing him. He gently let the door slide closed behind him, carefully locking it for any students that dared to interrupt them. A small but caring smirk graced his face as he looked before him. 

He saw you curled up in the back corner of the changeroom, sitting on a bench with your knees tucked into your chest. You held the bunched up top to your gym uniform, hugging it to the flushed skin of your torso for safety, your chest covered only by a tightly binding sports bra. You sunk your head down, trying not to make eye contact with the teacher as he proceeded forward. He gingerly perched himself on the bench next to you, leaving a comfortable amount of space, before bending forward to look at you.

“Hey..” His hair curtained around his face as he leaned forward, softly cupping the opposite side of your face in his hand.  He pulled your head over to look at him. The unexpected touch made you squirm, squeezing your eyes closed, but you refused to fight his caress. “You’re the strongest person I know.” His thumb massaged your cheek up and down. Your bottom lip quivered, still attempting to fight the surge of emotions that were coursing through you as you finally met his gaze. Your eyes brimming with tears, making your vision blurry, as you continued to choke them back. It was simple, but his words meant a lot. 

You and him both knew that you had a complicated relationship with your femininity. You saw it as a burden, getting in the way from people taking you seriously. You blocked it out in any way you could, to reflect a more intimidating, headstrong persona. Focusing on close-combat studies and fighting techniques, convincing the staff to let you wear the boy’s uniform, attending all the extra curricular sporting events - the reason you were even here on a weekend to begin with. It wasn’t just a means of coming off as adrogynous though, you genuinely enjoyed these things. 

“How can I be strong if I’m...” You looked away, afraid that admitting you were an Omega out loud would somehow make it worse. You didn’t want to come to terms with it. 

“...C’mere kid.” He removed his hand from your face while straightening up, leaning his back against the wall behind him. His arm raised, placing it on your shoulder to pull you into his chest for a gentle embrace. 

You’d been close to Aizawa before, but never anything like this. Playful jabs here and there, sarcastic shoves in the hallway, there was even that time he had to step in to use his binding cloth to stop you from beating on some punk that made fun of your quirk - but this tender feeling he was sharing was a whole new territory. 

You took it in, allowing some of the pent up tears to escape from your eyes. A quiet sob forced itself out of your throat, your body vibrating with each cry. Aizawa rubbed your back, slowly, carefully, letting you bask in the feelings. The fear that you had reverberated throughout the room was beginning to subside, and he could tell. You laid against the man in silence for a moment, the heavy thumping of his heart lulling your anxieties. You breathed in gradually, putting your sniveling to rest, but as you did, you noticed something off. 

A flush of red emanated from your face as your nose raised slightly gravitating toward Aizawa’s head. A waft of strong musk filled your senses. It was savory, and heavy, and…“Hnghh.”  A breathy sigh escaped your mouth as your hand gripped the fabric of the teacher’s shirt. You had little control over your next movement, stretching forward to nuzzle your face against his neck, taking in as much of the aroma as you could. Now that you’d let your defenses down, Aizawa's dominant atmosphere was beginning to encapsulate you. 

“Whoa there.” He let out a chuckle but continued to let you explore, eventually expecting this kind of reaction to his presence. He gracefully shifted his hand, placing it above your hip, both to keep you stable as you moved, and to give him the pleasure of being able to embrace the smooth, supple flesh. 

“I’m...sorry..” You said, beginning to retreat from him as the realisation of what you were doing began to sink in. “Oh, oh no.. I’m sorry..!” Your heart fluttered as you pulled back to your safe spot on the bench. 

He gave his head a shake and continued to give you your space. “No need to be sorry.” He assured you, scratching the back of his head. His voice was tender and dreamy to your ears, it sent goosebumps down your arms. Suddenly sitting in a lecture just to listen to your teacher’s dark, gritty voice rant about hero politics sounded appealing. Admittedly this brief embrace made the resistance to act on his urges much harder than before, but he persisted. 

Suddenly you let out an aching gasp. You pulled your body toward yourself, your arm reaching around your abdomen as you felt that intense pressure building up inside your gut again, tinges of pain and aching threatening your core. You’d felt this earlier when you had the room to yourself. It made you hot, your breath beginning to pick up as your body reeled in a feverish sweat. You didn’t want him to see you like this and now that your guard was down, it was taking control. 

“Hurt…. it hu..rts..” You managed to spit out. Shouta cocked his head to the side.

“Is this your first time..?” He planted his hand on your back once more, making sure you knew his company was welcoming. All you could do was let out a quick nod. You squeezed your legs together, feeling an intense heat present itself in your center, your gasps becoming more hefty and impossible to contain. 

“Wow, a late bloomer.” Aizawa strategically pondered for a moment, “Well, I should go inform Recovery Girl of how you’r-” 

“..No!” You cut him off before he could finish, a tremble in your voice. “Please, can you...” Embarrassment took over causing your speech to trail off, your arm shakely reaching out and clenching around the sleeve beside his hand. Your desires were continuing to take hold and Aizawa’s scent was becoming more and more irresistible as time went on, “..can you help me?”

The edge of his mouth curled up into a smile, disguising itself behind his shield of dark locks. Just as he’d expected. 

Now, this wasn’t his first time dealing with a student in heat. Although the population of Omegas was on the lower side, there had been a few students in his years of teaching that had to get medicated and sent home for a few days to deal with their inflamed, unpredictable hormones. And professors, especially Alpha professors, were instructed on the responsibility of containing those natural urges and how to offer students help when they were in their most vulnerable state. 

He did genuinely want to help. Seeing your pleas to get rid of this nasty heat made his heart ache and he didn’t want to deny you the option for any outside aid, but he knew you would place trust in him and he was willing to offer it. 

Without answering Aizawa leaned forward. He curled his other hand up behind your head, letting his fingers trail through your hair to embrace your scalp. Immediately a shiver fell down your spine as he bent over you; first planting a kiss on your forehead, then he trailed downward, peppering a couple kisses on your tear-stained cheek. The weight of your head cradled into his hand as he continued, his mouth trailing down the length of your neck, his tongue messaging down the length of your skin. Your breathing increased as you let out a cute whimper, your core pulsated. He then paused just above your shoulder, letting in a deep inhale. Your scent was enchanting, sweet, and made his head spin. He dared to let his teeth graze that special spot, smirked, and then placed one final peck there before abruptly pushing his mouth against yours. You immediately felt a rush of heat rise into your stomach as his lips collided with yours. They were so soft and experienced, but juxtaposed by the rough facial hair that scraped against your chin. 

Even though it was you who’d requested it, you were having a tough time wrapping your head around the order of events that lead you here. Finding it difficult to reciprocate the kiss, he began to ease his tongue inside your mouth. Your eyebrows raised, but eyes remaining sealed shut as the twitching muscle explored your mouth, the roughness of his flesh against yours causing you to feel slick drip between your thighs. 

You pulled your mouth away releasing an overwhelmed heave, a string of saliva still leaving you connected to the man. 

His eyes furrowed, a worrying expression plastered his face making sure you were okay. 

“..I forgot to...breathe.” A rosy tint burned your cheeks before you both let out a small chuckle that eased the tension. He then placed his forehead against yours.

“Keep going..?” At this point he was probably too far gone but he thought he’d at least give you the false sense of reassurance. 

Despite the flustering heat that Aizawa stirred into you from his kisses, the pain in your curve was urging on to the point of becoming unbearable. Your hands trembled but quickly grabbed his chest to pull him back into the embrace. He took this as a ‘yes’ and fell back into the deep kiss, proceeding to cup his hand around your left breast. He kneaded the bosom in his hand before trailing his mouth down your neck once again, this time pulling and suckling at the skin, leaving playful little bites - but not enough to bruise. His hands trailed down to the edge of your bra. You bit down on your lip as he yanked it upward and over your head. 

A nearly inaudible “Wow..” escaped from his mouth as he leaned back to take your figure in, not sure if it was meant for your ears to hear. Your defenseless upper half was paler than usual and coated with a perspiring sheen due to your sickly urges.

“Don’t stare..” You grumbled, refusing to meet his eyes as his hand regained its place against your chest. He was shocked you were able to contain them within the bounds of a thin fabriced sports bra all the time, let alone while they were aching and swelling from your heat. You did a very good job of keeping it that way. 

He smirked once more before lowering his head, taking the erect pink bud between his lips, lapping his tongue over it again and again. You shuddered as he sucked it into his mouth, his opposite hand fondling the other. But no matter how much he kissed and caressed your shivering body, it wasn’t satisfying the heavy hunger sweltering in the pits of your core. “Please..” You whined above his head, frustratingly clenching your fingers into your palms, “Mister Aizawa, please...I can’t wait anymore.” 

Aizawa pulled his mouth away, nuzzling his face between your chest for just a moment before raising back up. 

“Soon.” He simply but firmly stated, pulling his binding cloth above his head and tossing it to the floor, making sure it wouldn’t get in the way. 

He then bent down, wrapping his arm around the calves of your legs and pulling them onto the wide bench. He moved his own leg over the opposite side of the bench so that it was now in between him. 

“Now,”  he looked as you impatiently quivered, trailing his intense stare down your body, “What’s the damage?” You let out an offended huff at his wording, but held your complaints in. You figured any sort of noncompliance would lead you to a one-way trip to the medic. 

Shouta really didn’t need to ask, but your fluster enticed him even more. The bottoms of your navy gym uniform had a dark patch stained through them long before the moment he’d entered, by this point it had traveled down your legs. 

“Looks like we’re gonna have to find you another pair of those, huh?” He reached forward tracing his hands around the edges of the waistband before pulling the sweats down. You shifted as it tickled your sides. He then tossed them to the floor alongside his equipment. 

Your hands reached up to cover your face as his gaze pierced through you. No matter how desperate you were to get some relief, you still couldn’t get past the vulnerability of being sprawled out in front of him like this, let alone, someone actually known for having a deeply intimidating stare. 

He tenderly pulled one of your hands away, taking it in his own. This was the first time you’d really noticed how big his were in comparison, cupping around your delicate digits. He closed his eyes, leaving a few tender kisses inside your palm before deeply inhaling the aroma radiating from your wrist. He let it go and looked back, his palms now resting on your thighs, pushing them apart with a surprising amount of ease. You aligned yourself on the bench, propping your back against the wall. 

Aizawa bowed over your lower half, leaning into the heat pulsating between your legs. He hadn’t even touched you before your heart began to race, your breath trailing close behind. Your anticipation for him made his heart melt but he couldn’t resist dragging this out for as long as he could. He wanted to make your first heat special for you - memorable - even. 

It wasn’t long before Aizawa’s mouth was trailing up the length of your leg. The closer he got, the more unbearably hard it was to not just let his primal instincts take over and ravage your pretty, little entrance with his aching cock. No, Aizawa. He cursed at himself for even thinking that. 

Shouta’s tongue danced up your thigh before hitting the edge of your drenched panties. He left soft little nips with his teeth in your thigh, leaving you breathless, before kissing the fabric. He nudged his nose against the surface of it, prodding your sensitive core before letting his tongue fall down its length, intentionally heaving his hot, eager breath against you. You let out a loud gasp that left you clutching your mouth. He smiled once more before taking the edges of the fabric between his fingers and pulling them down, finally revealing your throbbing, leaking pussy. 

“Oh, sweetheart…” He sighed into you, sharing a few more kisses before sliding his tongue through those tender, pink folds. You cocked your head back gently scooching your hips towards him, your humiliation suddenly masked by your intense lust for the man. 

Aizawa took in all the senses surrounding him. The delightful squeaks you made as he trailed his muscle along your slit, the delicious distinctly omega flavours that drenched his mouth, the way you convulsed and your knees buckled every time he slid his lips or nose against your sensitive, budding clit. He then pulled your legs over his shoulders, giving him more leverage to dive into you.

You reached your hand out as your gasps deepened, he looked up from you inquisitively before reaching his out in return. You laced your fingers between his, yearning for that simple grasp. You held on to it as a form of security, giving soft squeezes to the man every time it was too intense, or a loving stroke of your thumb against his skin when it was just right. 

He narrowed his focus back on you, slowly bringing his other hand to your slit. While his tongue massaged your pulsating pearl, he sank two fingers deep inside your entrance. Unsurprisingly your hole was ready and more than willing to accept them. The amount of slick you’d produced was evident enough. You bit down on your lip and let out a whimper as he now began pumping you with his fingers alongside his mouth, your natural lubricant gliding down his hand.

Earlier you’d tried doing the same, attempting to satisfy your intense craving with masturbation alone, but it was never enough. Nothing felt like enough. But Aizawa’s fingers reached parts that you couldn’t, curling and prodding that sensitive area, hiding toward your stomach.

“God..” Your eyes rolled back as you bucked yourself against him, but you still yearned for more. “S...Sensei..” He could see you getting close, your little hand clenching in his own as he rhythmically persisted, your breaths more shaky and sporadic. “Shou..ta..!!” He loved the way his name rolled off your tongue, his cock twitching against his leg from the sound of it. He pulled his hand back and plunged his long fingers even harder and more vigorously, this time including a third. You let out a little shriek while he basically drowned amongst your tiny folds, his fingers driving into you at a steady cadence. He felt as your plush, sensitive walls tightened around his dexterous touch, quivering as you climaxed before him.  

You gulped hard trying to let your mind catch up to your body, releasing a steady pant. 

“That was great, kitten.” He gave your thigh one last kiss before raising up. “...You did so well.”

[aspiringauthorintraining]

Dandelion Wine: Supervision Required

You took another gulp of the dandelion wine, emptying the last of the glass’ contents into your mouth before asking Charles for a refill. He looked at you with a worried look, but you waved it off saying not to worry.

Any other day, you would have gone for grape juice. But after the long week you had, you had decided that you deserved a little bit of the nice stuff to relieve some of the piled up stress on your shoulders. And somehow, one glass of wine had quickly turned into four.

As you waited for Charles to finish filling your glass up again for the fifth time that night, your half-lidded eyes landed on a familiar pair across the room. You were so immersed in watching them, you hadn’t noticed someone taking the empty seat next to you.

“What’s got you drinking wine all of a sudden?” Kaeya sidled up next to you, eyeing the drink in your hand with an interested look.

You gave him a glance before gulping down a good portion from your refilled glass. Your face turned sour at the bitter liquid escaping down your throat. “Do you think Jean and Diluc are dating?”

The cryo user followed your line of sight, to see Jean and Diluc conversing about something inaudible.

“You’re joking, right?” He asked, confused.

“No?” You responded, squinting your eyes at him. Had the lights in the tavern turned brighter all of a sudden? “Anyways, I think they make a great match, don’t you?”

“Huh?” Kaeya was further confused by your words. “Are you drunk?”

“No,” you lied, taking another sip of wine.

Kaeya gave you a skeptical look. “I’ll go get Diluc for you.”

“No, stop! You’re ruining their precious quality time together!” You grasped his arm tightly, preventing him from getting up.

“What are you talking about?”

You responded to his question with an exasperated look. “I’m talking about Jean and Diluc! Can’t you see how perfect they are together?”

His eyes flitted to the pair, before giving you a strange look.

You breathed a heavy sigh, mustering up the energy to explain the concept of love to this blind person.

“The two are the classic example of what people call, “the ideal couple.” Jean’s basically the perfect “girl-next-door”; being gorgeous, having everyone in love with her, and excelling in everything she does.”

“And Diluc?” the captain asked, amused at your analysis.

“He’s the ultimate “bad boy”. He’s got the looks, the money, the power. He’s always busy running his wine empire and acts like he doesn’t care about the city after quitting the Knights of Favonius- yet, he protects the city in the shadows and takes time out of his busy life to check up on the ones he cares about.”  

You paused in your lecture to take another sip from your cup.

“I bet they like each other, but are afraid of the prying eyes to have a public relationship-“ You gasped. “-or maybe they’re in a secret relationship!” You concluded, surprised by the sudden thought.

Kaeya snorted at your conclusion. “How much have you had to drink tonight?”

You glared at him. “I’m not drunk, I’m telling you!”

“Of course you aren’t.” he smirked.

You ignored his sarcasm. “Anyways, they both really deserve to be happy after all they do for Mondstadt. You know with Jean as Acting Grand Master, and Diluc as the Darknight Hero.”

Seeing the said man walking over to you two, Kaeya leaned in closer to you with a grin. “Should you be saying the Darknight Hero’s true identity in a public place like this?” Kaeya whispered in your ear.

You quickly shushed him, putting a finger to his lips. “Shh, don’t give away Diluc’s secret!” Your widened eyes glanced around the room to see if anyone had heard him, like you hadn’t just gave out the secret seconds ago. Thankfully, the other patrons in the tavern were already drunk to care about what you had to say.

“I thought I told you not to drink too much.” Diluc interrupted the conversation, watching your drunken state with a frown.

“I’m not drunk! I’ve only had what was in this cup. I promise!”

“The lady speaks the truth.” Kaeya piped up, ignoring the glare he received from Diluc. “Although, I did see her asking for a refill earlier.”

You pouted at Kaeya’s statement. “But I used the same cup! So I am telling the truth.”

“Say Diluc,” Kaeya grabbed the red-haired man’s attention. “Are you and Jean together?”

“Excuse me?” The Acting Grand Master comes up from behind Diluc.

Kaeya shrugged his shoulders at the accusing glares, pointing to you. “She seems to think that you are.”

Jean’s eyes grew wide, looking at you quickly. “I’m not in love with Master Diluc, nor will I ever be.” Jean adamantly stated.

“I think it’s time for you to go home-“ Diluc got cut off by your finger shushing him.

“Shh. You don’t have to deny it in front of us. We fully support your relationship.” You shoot the couple an empathizing look.

Kaeya burst out laughing behind you, at Diluc’s and Jean’s face.

“Nothing is going on betwee-“

“Aren’t you tired of hiding? We’re your friends, you can tell us the truth.” You said, patting her shoulder gently.

“Like I said there is-“

“Okay, there’s nothing going on between you two.” You nodded, before ending off with a wink.

“No, no winking!” Jean pleaded.

Diluc just shook his head at you, before hitting a laughing Kaeya in the back of his head.

“We’re leaving now.” He lifted you, who kept winking at Jean, up into his arms and walked out the tavern before things could get worse.

“Stop winking!” He heard Jean yell from behind, to you.

Kaeya’s cackling could still be heard even as the door shut.

Leaving the tavern, the walk, or ride home in your case, was quiet. You had quickly fallen asleep in Diluc’s arms, holding on tightly with your arms around his neck. And when you opened your eyes again, you found yourself on a bed, with Diluc taking your shoes off.You had a urge to touch his scarlet hair, and found your hand doing so.

Noticing you were awake, Diluc looked at you before heaving a deep sigh.

“Please stop trying to pair me up with other people whenever you’re drunk.”

“But why not?” You whined.

“Because I’m already married?” He quipped, grabbing your hand touching his hair and landing a kiss on it.

“You are?” Your eyes widen. “To who?”

In your mind, Diluc was one of the best people you knew. So obviously, the woman he married would have to be as well, right?

“To a very drunk woman.”

“?” You tilted your head, confused at his answer.

He rolled his eyes. “It’s you.”

“Me?! Really?!” You gasped at his revelation. “We’re married? You and me? Me and you?” You asked repeatedly.

“Yes, dear.”

“Are you sure? Because I feel like I would remember something like that happening.” You gave him a skeptical look.

“If the ring on your finger is anything to go by, then yes.”

Bringing your hand right up to your face, you gasped as your drunken vision took in the glistening ring nestled on your fourth finger. And while you went through a range of emotions, Diluc finished tucking you into bed.

“Is that convincing enough for you?” He asked, taking the spot beside you on the bed.

“I guess so.” You agreed sleepily, the wine’s effects making you more drowsy by the second.

“Go to sleep. We’ll discuss this in the morning.” Diluc caressed your cheek, lulling you to sleep.

You softly hummed in agreement, before your sleep overtook you.

________

The next day, you woke up with a raging headache.

“I hope you learned not to drink five glasses of dandelion wine.” A deep voice sounded from behind, as you chugged down the glass of water sitting on the bedside table.

You just put your finger up to your lips, shushing him. “Everything’s too bright and loud.” You squinted at him and then shielded your eyes. “Even your hair’s too bright for me right now.

Diluc just continued. “You know, I thought after we got married your drunken matchmaking for me would stop.”

“Hey, I said I would try not to. I never made any promises.”

“And that is why I won’t let you drink dandelion wine without supervision.”

“If I remember correctly, I kept to my promise. It’s not my fault you weren’t specific on the details.” Diluc gave you an exasperated look, making you relent. “Fine, fine. I’ll have proper supervision next time. Adventurer’s honor.”

Bonus:

The next time you were in the tavern, you had made sure to order a glass of grape juice.

Jean was sitting next to you, talking about Klee’s most recent accident, blowing up something somewhere again, when the door to the tavern opened. In walked Kaeya and Diluc heatedly discussing something you couldn’t hear.

You took a gulp from your grape juice, noting it’s unusual sour taste.

Must be a new flavor they’re trying out, you guessed, before a sudden thought occurred to you.

“Hey, Jean?”

Jean looked at you, with a questioning glance.

“Don’t you think Kaeya and Diluc are a good match?”

Jean spit out the drink in her mouth at your question. “What?”

“I mean, they’re total opposites, but you know the saying how opposites attract.” You noted the grape juice’s sourness again as you took another sip.

You paid no attention to Jean, who was stammering for a response, and watched as Charles called Diluc over with a worried expression. You overheard the words “labels mixed up” and “dandelion wine” as you took another sip.

___

*(A/N): I’ve been obsessed with this game recently, and wrote this on a whim. All the husbandos are so good looking. Leave a like, comment, or do whatever. Thanks for reading! And please stay safe out there! (Why go out anyways when you can just play Genshin all day lol) ^^

[angstsfordays]

Beautiful Pain (7)

Chapter Seven- Gone

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced! Reader

Summary: Post-Blip, you started to feel lost when most of the Avengers team are gone. Coping with your loss, you still find hope in the connection with your remaining friends. However, it is not easy as everyone is trying to figure their lives after the Blip.

Having a long history with Bucky ever since you both saved each other from Hydra, you were still glad you had Bucky after all this time. However, as you try to give Bucky space to find himself after being pardoned for his past, you start to wonder if you should ever cross the line of friendship before it’s too late.

That thought might have to be put on hold though, when you, Sam and Bucky find yourselves having to deal with threats that continue to rise in a post-Blip world.

Chapter synopsis: In your pursuit of Karli and her group, unexpected revelations come to light. Lines are now crossed and that there is no turning back.

Warnings: Violence. Angst. A bit of language. Maybe a tear-inducing moment?

Word count: 5k

Notes: In celebration of the last ep, today is a double release! 🥳 We are already at the 7th chapter of this series. It also has covered one of the most climactic episodes of the TFATWS series and wow, I can't believe we are here! 😱

I have yet to see the last episode but I have plans to do it tonight. I thought I could put it off until I finish writing for ep 5 but I couldn't wait. This would help me to plan the direction I want to come for the upcoming chapters. 😌 Hope y’all will stick to this series despite the show has ended. 😅

Please let me know what you think of the series so far! 🥰🙏🏼

The tag list is still open! Let me know if you want to join with a message or comment in the chapters!

Previous: Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six |

Next: Chapter Eight

-------------------------//---------------------------

With Zemo’s inside information, all of you were heading to Donya’s ceremony in hopes to find Karli. You weren’t sure what to do knowing that you had secured a possible chance with Dovich to talk to Karli.

Grabbing your blazer, you made the move to join your group when you were greeted by the sight of John and Lemar walking towards you all.

“Karli Morgenthau is too dangerous for you to pull this shit.” John thought it fit to lecture your group. You were walking beside Sam when you heard Bucky sarcastically questioning John on how he managed to locate your group.

All of your annoyance grew as John decided he doesn’t want to miss out on the action given his new status and hence, responsibility as- urgh you don’t even want to say call him that title in your head.

“Come on, man. You don’t think three Avengers can walk around Latvia without drawing too much attention?” Lemar responded in kind.

John in all his fear of missing out started to question why you all had broken Zemo out of prison. Bucky patronizingly mentioned that Zemo broke himself out technically but John grew more irritated at not being taken seriously.

John’s higher than thou self was drawing attention with his loud talk and Sam had to cut him off. Zemo explained that he knew of Karli’s location and indicated continuing on his tracks before being stopped by John.

Sam went on ahead to explain that Karli would most likely be at Donya’s memorial and interception would take place there. Lemar noted the risks of casualties give n that civilians would be present.

John seeming pleased with the information started talking of a plan to take Karli in by surprise. This plan of ambush didn’t sit well with Sam and he proposed to talk to her alone. John refused, saying he didn’t want the possibility of losing Karli again.

Sam countered back that it was the best timing to reason with her, as she was now feeling vulnerable with someone dear to her loss. John vehemently rebuffed Sam’s proposal and claimed that reasoning with Karli was not an option, given that she had bombed a building with people in it.

Lemar, who you observed to be more level-headed than John ever would be chimed in that Sam could be attacked without any backup.

“And if I go in hot and the ops go wrong, more people will die,” Sam stated firmly.

“Sam is right.” Everyone turned to you and you continued to speak. “Look-” You shook in disbelief as you were about to break the promise you had with Dovich but you knew the situation called for it.

“I met with one of Karli’s guys.” All of the men were stunned at your revelation and you could see the betrayal on Bucky’s face more so than the rest.

“When was this?” He spoke up first as he looked on at you in disappointment.

“When we were out fishing for information on Donya, I miraculously spotted him on the streets and followed him. We talked.”

“And you didn’t bring him in?!” John accused as if you had done something terribly wrong. Bucky turned to give John the stink eye before going back to you.

“Why would you keep this from us at all?” Bucky couldn’t believe that you would have kept this information from him of all of the people.

“I promised him, he was going to talk to Karli for me after the memorial. He was our best chance to persuade Karli rather than go in by ourselves. We might not even have a shot.” You defended your actions.

“And how was he so agreeable to your request?” Bucky asked disdainfully. You didn’t like his judgmental stare at you, like as if he couldn’t believe you managed this feat.

“I saved him before back when we all fought the Flag Smashers on the truck. I convinced him with sincerity, happy?” You snapped back at the brooding super-soldier. Sam witnessing the once again tense exchange between the two of you intervened and spoke.

“That’s good, Y/N. Well done.”

“He said that he would only have me speak to Karli but I think you should do it, Sam. I can do talk to him again once he contacts me. You are the best one of us to do it.” You knew of Sam’s experiencing with counselling soldiers dealing with trauma and knew that he would do a better job to talk to Karli.

Sam was encouraged at your support for him and pulled you into a side hug which you returned gladly to him too. Bucky grew irritated at how your relationship with him was continuing to sour and began to feel disheartened. John being the thorn in your side still did not relent in his opinion.

“Are you gonna let your partner walk into a room with a super-soldier alone?” John continued to harp on the matter.

“He dealt with worse and he’s not my partner.” Bucky curtly answered.

“I trust Sam, he’s more capable than you think.” You chimed in. Bucky gave you a brief warm look as the two of you had put your differences aside for a moment to agree on Sam’s competency.

When Lemar asked John to give this plan a chance, you could see the latter wavering on his stance. It seemed his soft spot for his partner and friend worked. The men still thought it was better to go for the memorial straight as they were not sure if Dovich could hold up his end of the promise.

You showed hesitation but decided to give in, knowing that you were outnumbered. Zemo led the group to approach a little girl and you could see him giving some money to the girl in exchange for the revelation of Donya’s memorial.

You all were soon directed to an old building and the little girl pointed up to a stairway before going off. Sam gave you a nod before making his way first.

John took it upon himself to cuff Zemo before stopping Sam, informing him that he only had ten minutes with Karli. You had it with his bossy attitude and wanted to throw a punch in his face.

As the time passed in the room, it was silent. Everyone took a spot to wait but John was pacing up and down. Bucky positioned himself near the door while you took a spot opposite Lemar.

Your eyes glanced nervously to Bucky, suddenly feeling all weird and awkward. You never had this feeling in a long time. The only time you felt his way was when you had just started living with him as you two were on the run and in hiding.

The sudden comfort and ease you had with him seemed to vanish with your first fight as you would call it.

“Hey, uh-now it’s not really the time…” Your attention to Lemar who was now speaking at you directly. Giving a surprising look at his unexpected conversation starter, you listened intently.

“I really am a fan of yours.” Your mouth opened slightly in surprise at his revelation. Tilting your head to the side, you gave him a quizzical look.

“Just thought your powers are really cool. I was amazed to see them in action back in Germany.” You weren’t sure how to react but nodded shyly and thanked him. Bucky couldn’t believe what transgressed in front of him.

Peering over to see you with a bashful expression, he couldn’t help to grow irritated out of jealousy.

“Were you born with them?” Lemar inquired politely and you nodded in response. Lemar had another look of wonder before continuing to ask.

“That’s extraordinary.” You shrugged your shoulders as you didn’t know what to respond. Sure, you know your powers were to be envied but you didn’t think of yourself holier.

“It’s nothing to be envied. I find more respect for people who are able to do extraordinary things without such advantages.“ Your humility gained a deepened sense of admiration from Lemar. “Thank you for your service.” Throwing a smile in his way, yours grew wider as Lemar returned one your way.

Eyes looking over to John, you gave a slight brief nod before looking away. You also had to acknowledge his contributions but you didn’t like him as much so that was the best you could do.

Minutes passed again before John grew more impatient by the second.

“No no no, this is a bad idea.” He started whispering to himself as he shook his head fervently.

“It hasn’t been ten minutes, John. Just sit tight.” Bucky noted with a huff.

“Don’t patronize me.” You could see John getting fed up with Bucky. Walking towards the other end of the room from where Bucky was, John stood to look at the clock and you saw the determination in his eyes. “That’s it. I am going in.”

“Woah, back down mister. You’re being too rash.” Moving to the side to block his path, you held up a hand to stop him from moving.

“And you’re being too relaxed.” He seethed impatiently at your interception. As his hands laid on your shoulders to move you physically, Bucky immediately went to snatch his hand away.

You felt yourself being shifted backwards and towards Bucky before he took a step in front of you. Both men puffed up their chests in dominance and looked at each other with distaste.

“This is all really easy for you two, isn’t it?” John’s eyes moved to yours before landing back at Bucky. “All those serum and powers running through your veins…”

“Your partner needs backup in there. Are you really going to have Sam’s blood on your hands?” John enunciated each word of his last sentence strongly to pressure you.

In a matter of seconds, John looked at the opening Bucky gave when he came to protect you and went for it. He quickly made his way to where Sam and Karli were.

You saw the look of distraught and betrayal on Karli’s face before she lunged for John and knocked him and Sam over. She immediately made a run for it with Bucky hot on her trail. Helping Sam up, you two made your way to back Bucky up.

The big building was an unfamiliar maze and the three of you tried to find Karli’s location. Hearing the sounds of crashing and gunshots, you all tried your best to follow the sounds to the exact location.

When you arrived at the door, you opened it to see Zemo knocked out cold on the floor. John was already at the scene and Lemar just joined a few moments later. The little pieces of glass with unknown blue residues confirmed your suspicions on what they were.

Oh god.

-------------------------//---------------------------

“I deal with the power broker when the time comes,” Karli reassured the two men were worried about fighting two wars with both the power broker and Sam’s group.

“And I know a way we can deal with Sam without getting involved in a direct fight.” Karli intended. Nico and Dovich exchanged a brief look before Dovich asked how they were able to do so.

“We separate them. And then we kill Captain America.” Karli’s intentions didn’t sit well with Nico but he maintained a neutral expression. Dovich sat on the thought for a moment and remembered about you

“Hey look, Sam’s group is an odd mix but I don’t think they mean any harm. Except for Zemo, of course.”

With furrowed brows, Karli indicated for Dovich to explain himself. Dovich decided to speak about the earlier encounter he had with the Avenger.

“I talked with Y/N prior and she promised that she didn’t want any bloodshed.” Karli scoffed at her friend’s words and shook her head in disbelief. How was Dovich so trustful of you?

“That’s what Sam said too. But guess how it turned out.” She retorted with her own example to show how your group couldn’t be trusted.

“She’s not like that. I believe her, she can be trusted.” Dovich insisted. Karli and Nico were curious as to why was their friend was pushing for you.

“What’s gotten into you, Dovich? Why are you defending her?”

“Karli, she saved my life back in Germany. Her actions then spoke louder given she only met us for the first time.”

“She’s still loyal to her group. She’s loyal to the Avengers.” Karli continued to put down Dovich’s vouch for you. He then decided to change his tactics.

“I think she can be convinced to join our group. Imagine if she stood on our side, we would be unstoppable.” Karli looked up in interest as she considered the possibility of you fighting for their cause. Indeed, with your powers, the Flag Smashers would become a force to be reckoned with.

“That’s impossible.” Karli tried to reason with the fact that you were still with the enemy and you wouldn’t be turned so easily. She knew of your history and how you were loyal to a fault for Bucky Barnes. Would you so easily leave your friends to join them?

“She empathises with our cause. She said so herself.” Dovich added in finality, hoping that Karli could be convinced.

“Hmm, we’ll see about that.”

-------------------------//---------------------------

Your head was spinning from earlier events and you came back to the common room once you had a quick shut-eye upstairs. You could hear Bucky and Sam bantering about the same old topic on Steve’s shield.

You also heard Bucky’s comments about Walker and shook your head in disbelief at how inherently frustrating the man was. What could have been a successful peace talk with Karli was ruined by his brashness to display his authority.

The door burst open behind you and you looked over to see John coming in with Lemar, demanding for all of you to turn Zemo in. Sam took charge of the situation and put John in his place, stating he had been nothing but a thwart in your plans.

John being the arrogant pick he was tried to size up Sam, mocking him by saying he could put down the shield to make it fair for the both of them. You were fuming with the blatant disrespect that John was showing.

Before you could take another step, a familiar spear swooped in and lodged itself in the pillar near John. The familiar sounds of metal clanging let you know who was arriving and you saw familiar Dora Milajae members walking into the room.

Understanding the Wakandan words that were being spoken, you knew the Dora Milajae were here for Zemo.

John being the arrogant prick that he was, was proud to introduce himself as Captain America. An awkward silence ensued when they didn’t return a response. Sam tried to help John out by advising him that he should be careful to step on the Dora Milajae’s toes.

Ignoring Sam’s words, John went on to tell the Dora Milajae that they had no jurisdictions it had little effect when Ayo refuted his claims. Seeing John scoff before taking a step towards Ayo to place his hand on her shoulder, you immediately winced once Ayo swiftly knocked John down in three moves.

The scene in front of you unfolded quickly as John were quick to fight against the Dora Milajae and Lemar even stepped in to help his partner out. Seeing how the two men were hopelessly struggling with the warriors caused you to cringe in embarrassment.

“We should do something,” Sam said as he had the same sentiments as you.

“Looking strong, John.” Bucky commentated sarcastically with his arms crossed as if he was fine with how things were.

“Bucky….” Sam said in a nagging tone, as if Bucky was a child who did not want to do his chores. You looked over to give him a nod to say that Bucky should indeed step in before John really gets pummelled.

“Ayo, let’s talk about this”. Bucky stepped forward to intervene. Looking to the side, you saw one of the Dora aiming to give Lemar a blow before Sam stepped in. She managed to knock Sam down onto the couch and you knew it was your chance to step up.

You refused to use your powers with the Doras so you held your hands up to negotiate with them.

“Spare him, please.” You pleaded on Lemar’s behalf. The Dora withheld her weapon as she looked over you, recognising you from your Wakandan days. She left you

A sound of metal dropping caught your attention as you saw Bucky’s arm falling limply on the ground. His astonished expression accompanied by pain at Ayo’s disarm of his arm also brought you a shock.

In the midst of the chaos, you found that Zemo had disappeared. Ayo went to open the bathroom door and checked the room. She stated that Zemo was gone.

Ayo stated that their business was finished here and they would take their leave first. You helped Lemar up before walking over to Bucky who picked up his vibranium arm in disbelief.

“Did you know they could do that?” Sam asked and Bucky shook his head in response. You bit your lips as you weren’t sure what to say.

In an attempt to comfort him, you reached over to give his shoulder a squeeze. Bucky was glad that your previous enmity towards him seemed to be gone and your interactions seemed to be back to normal.

“They were not even super soldiers.” Hearing John’s dismay at his utter defeat, you almost felt bad for him. Sam gave him a once over as John stood up, acting he was fine before leaving with Lemar.

The three of you left couldn’t believe Zemo made his grand escape even with all of you in the room.

-------------------------//---------------------------

The three of you were making your way out in search of Zemo until Sam received a call from his sister. Apparently, Karli called Sarah as a strong message to Sam. Karli threatened to involve Sam’s nephews if Sam didn’t do as she said.

Your head shook in disbelief, you believed Karli to be different. To hear that she was pulling such a tactic changed your initial opinion of her. Sam received a message to meet her alone but you and Bucky wouldn’t let him go in alone.

Once the three of you suited up, you all made your way to the location. Entering the open plaza in the building, Sam called for Karli and you saw her head popped into view. You all made your way to her level.

You let Sam approached her while Bucky and you put yourselves at the side. Sam called her out for trying to involve his family but Karli replied that she would never harm them. Her eyes moved to where you and Bucky stood, noting aloud that Sam didn’t come alone as intended.

Karli reiterated that she never wanted to hurt Sam and that he was just a tool in the regimes she vowed to destroy. Killing Sam would be meaningless to her.

“I was gonna ask you to join me. And maybe Y/N back there. Dovich has spoken highly of you.” Seeing your eyes widened in surprise at the offer, Karli smirked before continuing.

“You could do better than them. You would be welcomed and appreciated within our circle. I know of your loss, your grief with the rest of your original team gone. You can find purpose with us.” You stepped forward as if her words were drawing you in.

Sam and Bucky were at a sudden loss at your movement. They didn’t think you would even process Karli’s proposal and were curious to know what you were about to do.

“Karli, I resonate with your cause.” Your words took your friends by surprise. Were you really going to switch sides?

“But I don’t approve of what you did back at the depot. I thought better of you.” You expressed your stance on the matter. Karli scoffed before giving her reply. “Don’t give me that. I don’t need your approval.”

“Shedding blood is never an option for me.” You stood your ground firmly.

“Fine, I admit my mistake. If you join us, I will make sure there would not be lives cost.” Karli tried to coat her words in favour of you.

She knew that she would do whatever was necessary for her to achieve her goals and even if it were to pretend to pander to your moral values, she was willing to give it a try if it meant she could have you switch sides.

Seeing your conflicted dilemma, Karli egged on. “Is it because of him?” She nodded back to Bucky. You looked over your shoulder to see him equally You looked at her with a perplexed look before she smirked once more.

“I read up about you. You came into his defence when he was accused of a crime he didn’t commit. You revealed your powers publicly and that got you thrown into the raft. Ever since he has been pardoned, you had been with him all this time.” You didn’t know where Karli was going with this but her next sentence finally made you understood.

“This only means one thing. You like him, don’t you? He’s the one holding you back.”

“No! What are you talking about?” You spoke through gritted teeth at how she chose to play this out. How could she expose you like this? Your ears burned with embarrassment at the revelation that stunned both Sam and Bucky.

What was Karli implying exactly? Bucky looked over to see you visibly shaking in anger and he was taken aback by how Karli’s words affected you.

“Even now, I see the way you are looking at him. At how angry you are now? You mad that your secret crush is out in the open?” You looked up to see Karli’s smug face and you controlled your energy from bursting through your hands.

“Stop your bullshit. Don’t act like you know me!”

“Please, I am letting you know that he is not worth it. You would do so much better for yourself if you join our cause.” Karli retorted and you hated how she acted like she knew what was best for you when she barely knew her.

Sam always had an inkling that there could be more from your relationship with Bucky but he kept silent on the matter out of respect. He knew that it was best to leave you figuring things out on your own.

He recalled how he had caught you and Bucky in an intimate moment back in the club at Madripoor and figured you two were more than it seemed on a friendship level.

Seeing Karli use such an approach to almost taunting you in the context of persuasion didn’t sit well with him. His inner big brother wanted to come out to defend you.

Meanwhile, Bucky was appalled to learn of everything from your exchange with Karli. Was it possible that you had liked him all this while?

When he talked to you about Madripoor earlier, he remembered your pained expression when he tried to void what happened between the two of you.

Was it because you were hurt by his denial? He must have sounded like the world’s biggest jerk. If you really liked him, he would imagine you being heartbroken from what he had said.

“He is worth everything.” Your very statement made Bucky looked back up in shock. No way would he ever thought you would like him in that way. He thought you were just being the kind-hearted and empathetic person that you always are to follow a guy like him.

Quick flashbacks came to him as he realized that you had always been by his side from breaking free of HYDRA to being on the run, following the Avengers civil war, his time in Wakanda, the fight with Thanos, Steve's leaving, his pardon after the Blip and up to now.

It dawned upon Bucky that he had taken you for granted. If you were gone right now, he could only imagine that he would possibly go the deep end.

“He is the most important person in my life and you don’t get to talk about him like that when you don’t even know him.” You asserted with renewed confidence. You figured while this situation wasn't ideal, it was the moment you had to tell your truth.

Looking back, you met Bucky with a small smile.

Bucky’s heart soared at what you had just said. To be regarded as your most important person was the thing that he never knew he needed.

You knew that your words inadvertently had answered the pressing question on Bucky’s mind. Karli knew she had failed to get to you after the answer and decided to lose her shot with you.

You hear Sam picking up something on his comms, stating that it was Walker. Karli was alerted and decided to make a move first. Bucky immediately jumped off as soon as he saw Karli doing the same.

You lifted yourself off and saw Sam knocking Karli over before he turned to Bucky, telling him that he would send him the location. You didn’t have time to say anything to Bucky, he only gave you a look of understanding before you both knew that there were more pressing matters at hand.

Sam nodded to you before you did the same and you followed him as he took off.

-------------------------//---------------------------

You sent a blast towards the glass ceiling before you and Sam landed in the building. A crash was heard next when you recognised Dovich to be the one that was crashing. You looked to see John walking into view and your mind scrambled to analyse what was going on.

Dovich went ahead to use a metal pipe against John, but John pushed back and even bent the pipe into half like a rubber hose.

“Oh shit,” Dovich uttered before John sent him flying to where you stood. As Dovich looked up at you, you eyed him to go and heard Sam speak up.

“What did you do?” John didn’t answer the question and informed that the Flag Smashers had Lemar. Growing a soft spot despite your brief interaction, your heart dropped when you realised that Lemar was in danger.

John went ahead first before Sam followed behind. You placed your hand on Sam’s arm to pause for a moment, looking at Sam anxiously.

“Sam, I think he took one of the serums.” He nodded grimly at your words, indicating that he shared the thought too.

The two of you followed John where you were all ambushed by a member of the Flag Smashers. All of you tried to fend yourselves and you soon see Bucky joining the scene.

You were met face to face with Dovich. You gave him a look that said you were reluctant but had no choice to fight him.

He took you on and you tried your best to avoid his quick moves. You shot multiple non-fatal blasts at him to knock him over. He was doing his best to keep up with the speed at which you were throwing your blasts.

In the next split second, you sent two direct blasts to his chest that knocked the wind out of his chest. The following moment, you heard a loud collision and you looked to see Lemar crashed against a stone pillar.

A loud gasp escaped your lips as you realised what had just happened. Lemar’s head fell slightly as you saw him lost consciousness. John immediately walked over to his partner and repeatedly tap him to wake him up.

You swallowed heavily as seconds passed and Lemar had no reaction. John called Lemar’s name over and over to no avail. You see John looking back his shoulder and directing his line of sight on you.

“Do something!” He cried out to you. You were at a loss for words as you didn’t know what he wanted you to do. You looked over to see Sam and Bucky equally stunned at what had occurred.

“I read your file. You brought someone back to life before!” You knew what John was referring to but you didn’t know if it could even work.

“I can’t, my powers don’t work like that-” Your powers came from your life force so you were able to transfer it to someone to regain theirs. However, you only did it once and it was because someone was dying of hypothermia. It was a different situation from Lemar’s.

“Please! I’m begging you! He’s everything to me!” John’s desperate plea touched you, knowing that he had said similar words to what you had said before about Bucky. You understood his plight and made quick steps to where he was.

Everyone looked upon the scene as you crouched down to your knees. You gave John a wary look before you brought your hands to Lemar who was lying in John’s arms.

Summoning your energy into your palms, you placed them on Lemar’s chest as if you were using a defibrillator. You pumped several sets of energy into Lemar while John patted him for a reaction.

When Lemar still showed no signs of life, the look of defeat on John’s face broke your heart. Tears start welling in your eyes as you looked at Lemar’s lifeless body. You saw Karli and her group starting to make a run for it.

Sam and Bucky made a chase for her immediately. John handed Lemar over to you before he sprinted for the window in front of you.

You could see the look of vengeance on his face and knew it didn’t bode well. You gently laid Lemar on the ground before waving your hand with your energy flames and placed it on where his heart was.

Rest in peace.

Your energy flames dissipated into his uniform and you stood up to follow behind John. You managed to catch him chasing after one of the Flag Smashers ahead of you. He was throwing his shield with brute force to knock the guy on his feet. You saw how the man was pleading for his life, claiming that he was not the one who killed Lemar.

John placed a foot to hold the man who was flailing his arms desperately. In a blink of an eye, he brought down the very shield that was used to protect people onto the man.

“NOOOOOOO!” You cried out in an attempt for John to stop his actions but it was too late.

Your eyes widened in unbelievable shock at what just transpired. When John lifted up the shield, you saw the blood that stained the legacy of the shield- Steve’s legacy.

You turned to see that a crowd was formed and people held out their phones to record what had happened. It didn’t sit well with you to know that in a matter of seconds, the whole world would also be watching this horrific scene too.

-------------------------//---------------------------

Tag list: @tanyaherondale @spookycereal-s @cataves @archaeoheart @conflicted-noxsirius @archaeoheart @idiotinnit @anxious-stitcher @lindseyrae20 @mads-weasley

[charlietheepicwriter7]

Hey, Little Songbird

Chapter 15 - AO3

If asked, Felix would deny it.

No one did, of course. His classmates rarely spoke to him, and the day after the spray pain incident, Marinette was still giving him the silent treatment. It did put a damper on his plans, and it wasn’t like he wasn’t used to silence.

So really, he didn’t need her at all.

Cesaire was the last one in before the morning bell rang, much to everyone’s surprise. The class gossips—not that he wanted to listen—had claimed that the girl was suspended for sure. She hesitated before sitting down, staring up at the back of the class over her shoulder with an expression of longing. But the final bell rang and Cesaire sat, sitting next to her boyfriend.

In full view of those above them, Rossi placed a hand on Cesaire’s shoulder, a calculated consolation, only for Cesaire to move before they could touch. Whatever Rossi said clearly set Cesaire off, the recent akuma snapping at the girl, though they were quiet enough that Felix couldn’t hear them.

At least, they were quiet until Rossi immitted a siren-like wail.

“Alya!” Rossi sobbed, drawing out Alya’s name into an irritatingly high pitch. Her face was dry. “How could you say that!?”

The Class’s attention was immediately drawn to the confrontation as they jumped to Rossi’s defence. Although, not everyone. The redheaded boy kept his head down, and the short blonde looked away.

“Alya, what did you do!?”

“Are you bullying Lila?”

“You should apologize!”

Cesaire’s eyes flickered around the room as the class berated her. They landed on the ack and Cesaire straightened. She spoke loud enough for the class to hear her. “I was willing to keep this between us, but since you want this to be public, Lila, that’s fine. The fact that you got out of your detentions by saying that you were volunteering after school all week is extremely manipulative and exactly like Chloe.”

There were gasps all around, some horrified that Rossi would do such a thing, others shocked that Cesaire would ever say anything bad about their precious Lila.

Rossi’s voice hitched. “H-How—” her voice warbled—“How could you say that, Alya? I had already made those plans before you stole Felix’s project!”

“Don’t act like I worked alone,” Alya said. “I may have been the one to steal the project—which I plan to apologize for doing—but you were the one to say it was made from your notes. Not only did you know I was going to steal it—”

“I didn’t know!” Rossi tried to protest.

“—But you encouraged me!”

I didn’t!” Rossi whined, her voice hitting a pitch only known to dogs. “B-Besides, after yesterday, everyone knows who’s really to blame. Since you painted Marinette’s locker.” Marinette froze beside him.

“Then why am I not suspended?” Alya shot back. “It wouldn’t be the first time this school gave me a hasty suspension, so why am I free?” Her eyes narrowed. “I had evidence that I wasn’t the culprit, so they couldn’t touch me. Where’s your evidence?”

Marinette looked startled, like the idea of asking for evidence was foreign to her. Or perhaps, it was the fact that Cesaire was the one asking for evidence. Together, they watched the back and forth until Mme. Bustier finally entered the room and broke the argument up. Pity, it was just starting to be amusing.

“Alright, that’s enough!” Bustier said. “Alya, since I clearly can’t trust you to be mature, I’m going to move you to the back of the class today. Hopefully you can behave tomorrow and earn your seat back.”

Felix cocked an eyebrow. Cesaire looked utterly betrayed by the teacher, but obeyed, moving to the bench next to his and Marinette’s with little fuss. Shockingly little, all things considered.

It became clear when Cesaire whispered in the middle of the first lecture of the day, “I’m sorry.” Felix could barely hear her from the other side of Marinette.

“What?” Marinette turned to her.

“I’m sorry I’ve been such a bad friend, girl.” Cesaire looked truly ashamed. “I… I should have seen that Lila was lying. I should have at least investigated when you told me something was up, but I just… didn’t. I was so invested in her lies and having an interview with ‘Ladybug’s best friend’ on my blog that I… I lost my integrity. And even worse, I dismissed you and how you felt because I thought I knew better. I’m sorry, Marinette.”

Marinette swallowed, her fists clenched. “Thank you, Alya. This really means a lot to me.” Cesaire perked up. “But… I don’t think I can forgive you right away. I believe you when you say you didn’t destroy my locker—” She glanced at Felix—“But that doesn’t mean you haven’t done things similarly horrible.”

Cesaire nodded, disappointed but understanding. “I know. And I’ll work hard to regain your trust in me. Which is why I’m going to expose Lila as the liar she is.”

Felix was surprised; he didn’t necessarily expect Cesaire to take Adrien’s ‘high road’ approach, but no hesitancy… And Marinette… nodded. “Yeah. Do you want to work on a plan after school today?”

“Y-Yeah. I’d really like that, Mari.”

Felix stifled a smile as the two friends—because they were on the track to recovering their friendship now, just try to stop them, Rossi—made up. He felt pretty good about himself until the lunch bell rang and Marinette dragged him out the door and out of school, a hard expression on her face.

They were at the side of the school, where there were no students. Felix tried not to let his nervousness show. “How rough, Dupain-Cheng. Whatever are you trying to do to me, away from prying eyes—"

“Shut up.” Felix shut up. “Felix, you… Did you keep Alya from getting in trouble?”

“What do you mean?”

“It was pretty much a given that Alya was going to get suspended because of your frame job. Yet she’s here, sending you glances all throughout class.”

“Perhaps she’s attracted to me? I’ve heard I have the face of a model.” He was not confessing this, no way. He had a reputation to keep.

“And what would Alya say? If I asked her next time we were in class.”

“She…” Damn her, she had him cornered. If she asked during class, at least some of the others would overhear, and then people would have expectations. “She would mention that there was an anonymous phone call from a potential donor for the school that reminded the principal that the locker room doesn’t have working cameras and that students have framed each other for crimes in the past. Wouldn’t it be so disappointing that the school board found out that the money that went to security cameras wasn’t used at this school?”

“The principal is embezzling funds?”

“I suspect he’s embezzling funds. But given that he immediately agreed with me and rescinded Cesaire’s suspension, my suspicion is right on the money.”

“That almost makes too much sense… No,” she shook her head. “That’s not what I wanted to talk about. Felix, have you ever had friends before?”

“Excuse me!?” What was she accusing him of!?

“Because you act like I’m the first person you’ve ever made friends with.”

“H-How dare you!? Accusing me of being some sort of… some sort of friendless wretch!” He huffed. “I might not be my cousin, but I’ve certainly had a friend before!”

“Adrien doesn’t count, Felix. He’s family, not a friend.”

“Well, I—” The nerve of this girl! “What does it matter anyway?”

“Well, I just figured… you wouldn’t have done that if you had more experience with friendships. Or experience with people your own age. Because what you did was not okay. However, you understand that now, right?”

“…I do.”

“And you tried to make up for it, right?”

“…I did.”

“Then it wouldn’t be too much to ask if you followed my plan for rehabilitation?”

Rehabilitation? What did she think he was, a dog? “And why,” he sneered, “Would I do that?”

She looked disappointed and his heart twinged. “You don’t have to, if you don’t want to. But Felix… I can’t be friends with someone who does cruel things for their own benefit. The world doesn’t need more than one Chloe.”

Had he… been acting like Bourgeois? Surely not, she’d never do her own dirty work. But… vandalizing a locker did seem like something she’d order, even if it wasn’t for the benevolent reasons Felix had. And… he really didn’t want to lose Marinette.

“Very well,” he said snidely in an effort to distract from his lightly flushed skin. “I’ll play along. Let’s be friends.”

Taglist: @graduatedmelon @novicevoice @dur55 @kris-pines04 @18-fandoms-unite-08 @moonlightstar64 @bee-a-garbage-shipper @sol-o-shade @kittyotakunoir666 @tinyterror333 @allieoftheenemy @marichat00 @xgxmxtx @two-faced-biatch @feliciakainzofspades @evil-cricket @emilytopaz @spicybelladonna @chocolateherringtacofan @user00000003 @wannajointhecrabcult @happymonster-pants @duquesapincarrasca @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen  @sxltinette @kittydemon9000 @thetrashypanda423

[becaeffinmitchell]

Fic: what i have (is who i carry home) (1/1)

Summary: Chloe, as it turns out, loves Valentine's Day.

Of course she does. Beca can't say she's surprised in the least.

aka, five Valentine's Days Beca Mitchell's had.

Note: After ten thousand years, I’m free! Or, you know, after eight years, I’m finally posting my first Bechloe fic. Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone 🥰  Gif credit goes entirely to @evenstars​ (thank you so much again!)

Words: 4,954

Read below or on AO3!

--------

i. 2012, Freshman Year, Barden University

There are so many other things Beca would rather be doing.

Like go to the dentist. Actually show up for class. Spend time over dinner with her dad and the step-monster.

Okay, maybe not that last one. Nothing in the world would make her choose that.

But here she is, in that stupid red hoodie, holding that stupid bow and arrow, standing in front of people, refusing to sing that stupid song with Amy.

*

 Later, back at the auditorium where they have Bellas practice, Aubrey's voice is shrill and loud. (As always, Beca thinks.)

"Beca, you really need to be picking up the slack. We need every dollar that we can raise so that we have enough to cover our journey to the semi-finals, and you're dead last in our fundraiser right now."

Amy mutters something under her breath, soft enough for Beca to hear something about — the bus? The Trebles? She doesn't really know. Whatever it is, it's not something she wants to get in the middle of.

"Maybe we can think of something new to do." Beca's tone is dry, and she schools her expression into something neutral on her face, her head tilted slightly, knowing that Aubrey has to know she isn't just talking about the fundraising activity.

It's just — she can feel the potential of these girls, okay? And it's such a shame that they're stuck doing the same three songs, over and over. If she could at least try, show them her arrangements, maybe they'd have a fighting chance.

"I have the pitch pipe, and I say we do this exactly how we have been doing it."

Beca is about to say something snarky, something she knows is going to get under Aubrey's skin, when Chloe's voice rang out beside her.

"It's okay. I'll do it with Beca tomorrow."

She hasn't even noticed Chloe approaching them in the midst of this, so her head whips around so fast at the sound of her voice.

"Don't you have a class during that time, Chloe? That's the whole reason why we couldn't pair you up with Beca." There's something about Aubrey's clipped words that is super careful and controlled, like there's more that she wants to say but isn't.

Chloe shrugs, before turning to Beca with a beaming smile. "It's okay, skipping out on one Russian Lit lecture won't make a difference."

 *

 Chloe, as it turns out, loves Valentine's Day.

Of course she does. Beca can't say she's surprised in the least. She thinks she doesn't know anyone who's more enthusiastic about everything and anything.

There's something about Chloe that feels like embers starting at the base of Beca's dead, cold heart, warming it up and turning itself three sizes larger.

It's not a thing she wants to unpack right now; she's not the type to get attached to people, and especially not when she's going to go through with her plan, and leave at the end of the school year. It doesn't matter if her dad helps her or not.

"Do you have any plans for tomorrow?" Chloe's voice, melodic as it comes, breaks the silence as they walk towards the south quad. She looks ready to go through the entire residence hall, her angel wings bouncing behind them.

"It's a day corporations literally invented to convince everyone to buy cards and chocolates and flowers at jacked up prices, so..."

Chloe lets out a happy sigh. "Maybe so. But it's also a day to celebrate love! And love is so awesome. I love love. And I'm not just talking about romantic love, though that is nice. You can also celebrate the love from all relationships in your life. Like your best friends, or your parents, or your siblings."

Beca raises an eyebrow, because Chloe is just so goddamn earnest. She tugs at her hoodie. "Let me guess, you and shower guy have a date?"

"Who, Tom?"

"How many shower guys do you have?" There's a beat. "Actually, don't answer that."

 *

 So here she is, still in that stupid red hoodie, still holding that stupid bow and arrow, standing in front of people, and singing a duet with Chloe Beale.

 *

 The next morning, Kimmy unceremoniously drops a box at the foot of Beca's bed, a loud thud waking her up.

There's a sleeping mask, a whole clip of flash drives, two huge jars of peanut butter, and cans of Red Bull in the box. There's also a card, and her name is written carefully in the middle of an envelope.

Happy Valentine's Day, Beca!!!! I've said this before, and I'll say it forever: I'm SO glad that I met you. I LOVE that you love music like it's the one thing you can't live without. It's something that really resonates with me, too. You make us better. :) :)

xoxo,

Chloe!

 *

 Beca drifts off to sleep that night, the music still playing in her headphones. She's wearing that sleeping mask across her eyes.

 ------------

ii. 2014, Junior Year, Barden University

 The thing with Jesse is, he really loves these grand gestures of romance.

Sometimes Beca thinks that that's his favorite part. It's almost like he's in love with the idea of being in a relationship.

Worse still, in love with the idea of her, like she's this perfectly scripted character who exists for him.

Last year for Valentine's Day, Jesse had shown up at her dorm. Well, outside of her window actually, boombox on his shoulder. She'd tried not to wince, her lips pressed together into something resembling a smile (she hopes) to the strains of In Your Eyes, at the ungodly hour of dawn.

It isn't even that she had just gotten to sleep like, two hours before that. Or the very clear and enunciated "fuck off!" that her neighbor gave them, complete with a dramatic slamming of her window. At least she doesn't have to deal with that now, now that they've all moved into the Bellas house, newly renovated.

It was just a lot, right? And maybe she should have been a better girlfriend to anticipate it this year, or at least match some of that. Rise up to his level, or something. She just has a reservation to a fancy Italian restaurant in Midtown, and she made that way in advance. So maybe she gets points for that?

January rolls into February, and she dreads it. Every day is a countdown to The Fourteenth.

 *

 Here's the more pressing thing: Chloe seems sad. Not all the time, but Beca catches it occasionally.

She presumes she knows her best friend pretty well by this point, until she's doing things like failing a single class on purpose so that she doesn't graduate. For the second year in a row.

And Beca gets it, at least on an abstract level. If she starts thinking about what comes after graduation — and that's in a year and some — she gets nervous, too. But in no version of her reality does she get so paralyzed with fear, that she would opt to repeat her senior year like it’s groundhog year.

She wishes she could know why, for certain. She can't help if she doesn't know what's going on in Chloe's head, but for the first time, it's Chloe's turn to clam up and switch the subject.

So Beca doesn't push. She hopes it's enough to keep her afloat as she works through whatever it is. She doesn't really know what that entails, but music? Music she can do.

She pours her energy into putting together a really solid mix for Chloe; it's all the songs that remind Beca of her, and their friendship. She picks songs and arranges them and removes them before she puts them back in, because it has to sound right.

Beca feels like the world's biggest dork for giving it to her the morning of Valentine's Day.

Well, second biggest dork, because she intercepts Chloe leaving the gift boxes in the room, for her and Amy.

"Hey, uh. Happy Valentine's Day," she says, handing her the flash drive — one of the many that Chloe has gotten her over the years, like she's her supplier — and hoping she doesn't look as awkward as she feels. "It's not anything like your, like, super thoughtful gifts." She gestures in that general direction. "But you're my best friend, so... here."

She gets pulled into a hug, and Beca can't be sure, but it sounds like Chloe's 'thank you' is strained and she's about to cry.

Beca hopes it's enough.

 *

 "So, Jesse gave you just the one earring?"

Beca's back from the dinner. It was... nice? There was a string quartet and Jesse made them play John Legend's All Of Me, and Beca didn't actually die of embarrassment when he started singing along, so she'll chalk that up as a win.

"Yeah, it's like — symbolism, I guess. From the movie." Beca shrugs, chewing on the popcorn she's made that Chloe is currently stealing. She thinks about lightly smacking her hand away, but ends up shifting the bowl so that it's nearer to Chloe.

Does she regret putting Don't You (Forget About Me) in their setlist? Maybe.

Probably not, all things considered, because it worked well together with the other songs, and they did win the finals that year. But it elevated the movie to mythical and legendary status for Jesse, and if he does that arm raising motion one more time during squabbles he wants to get out of? Beca might lose it even harder.

"Is it symbolism or a metaphor? I could never tell the difference."

"I think it was a metaphor in the movie," Beca starts, a thoughtful expression on her face. "But more of a symbol for like, me and Jesse? Oh my god." She presses her free hand to her eyes. "You're such a nerd. Stop making me think deeper about this than I need or want to."

"I just think it's nice," she hears Chloe say.

Beca hums, tone neutral. "It's something, for sure. Wait." She whips her head to face her best friend. "You didn't go out tonight? Ms. 'I Love Love'?"

Chloe chuckles lowly, quietly. "I have all I need here in this house, anyway."

 *

 When Beca goes to the kitchen in the middle of the night for a glass of water, she thinks she hears the soft strains of her mix playing from Chloe's room.

   ------------

  iii. 2017, Brooklyn, NY

 It's apparently the warmest February in New York on record, but Beca is still fucking freezing.

The incessant chill envelops the air, and she pulls her coat closer to her. She's bundled under layers, but the radiator in their tiny little apartment is, as most things in it, almost completely busted.

Jesus Christ. It's cold.

 *

 Amy is convinced she's cold because she's moping, because she's sad about breaking up with Jesse.

Beca knows she isn't, and it's not just the long distance thing.

They'd given it a fair go, and it sucked that he got busier with classes and she tried to solve all of the music industry's problems as an associate producer, working hours trying to make tracks sound... sonically unrotten.

It's not just the long distance thing, because if Beca was honest with herself, it was probably a sign that when he told her that he was thinking of completing his studies in California, her immediate response was that of neutral indifference.

So, she is totally fine.

 *

 Beca hears Chloe singing softly before the door even opens, and she can hear it swing open too, and she knows Chloe is about to shrug her coat off —

"Don't bother, it's also cold in here," Beca says, from under the covers.

Then, her eyes track Chloe as she walks to the radiator —

"I checked, it's working. Supposedly."

"Aww." Chloe strides the distance — not that it's that long — and sits down on their shared bed. "You're so cute when you're grumpy."

"Aren't you freezing?" she chooses to deflect the comment, hugging herself petulantly. "Hey, how was your date with that guy at the clinic?"

Chloe hums noncommittally. "We went for coffee and he double-booked me with another girl."

"Dude. What a dick." Beca feels a flash of — annoyance? Chloe deserves the world. Chloe deserves everything she wants. "I'm sorry."

"I know. It's okay though." Chloe smiles at her. It's that smile that Beca catches that she thinks it's just for her, but she's also a logical person who knows that Chloe has that ability to make people feel like they're the most important person in the world. "I've got all I need right here."

Warmth pools at Beca's stomach, and honestly. It's a nice change from the freezing.

 *

 It's 2 AM, and they're cuddling, because of course they are; because Chloe is warm; because Chloe is an embrace personified; because... Chloe.

Beca stirs awake, and she feels Chloe's breath tickle at the base of her neck. She shifts, not uncomfortably. Then, Chloe's hand drifts sleepily, and lands somewhere on Beca's hip.

And then.

And then.

There is a sudden, startling clarity in Beca's mind, knocking the figurative breath out of her. Her eyes fly open.

She loves Chloe.

And not in the same way where she loves the rest of her found family in the other Bellas.

Oh no, a voice sounds in her mind.

Oh, this is very bad, she thinks.

She can't believe how still she is right now, feeling the entire weight of Chloe's body in contact against her. Feeling her slow, steady breathing against her back. She's not even cold anymore.

Okay. So she loves her best friend. Cool, cool, very cool. That's totally fine. She can handle this.

Chloe's been such a fixture in her life, at every turn; in every note in between the downbeat and upbeat that is her life. Music is in Beca's veins, her whole life, but music flows right through Chloe. She's tucked warmly in the melody, a motif throughout the entire song.

Holy shit, Beca thinks. She's been in love with Chloe for so long, she doesn't even know when it started.

 *

 Okay, so. There's a weird spot on the ceiling, right? And Beca just keeps staring at it, because if she closes her eyes, she will feel Chloe's presence so keenly, pressed next to her.

She can't do anything with this knowledge. She can imagine it now, Chloe giving her a comforting hug but tells her, sorry Beca, I love you but not in that way.

It's five whole years of friendship, of Chloe by her side no matter what, and that is the one thing that she's got that she doesn't want to risk, just because she had this stupid revelation.

God. It's so stupid. It'll pass. Right?

 ------------

 iv. 2018, Los Angeles, CA

 What is really fucking weird, even in the grand scheme of things, is journalists asking her if she's doing anything for Valentine's Day.

Which, like. First of all, Beca's not stupid, she knows it's a way to suss out her personal-slash-love life.

She's kept that pretty close to her chest for now.

But also, there's literally nothing to tell. She's not being defensive because there's something to hide away. Beca is knee-deep in work all the time, and she goes home to an apartment that feels too big for just herself. It's a big change from the entirely too cramped apartment in Brooklyn.

Sometimes she finds herself missing that very specific part of her life. Not the struggling and being unhappy doing work with no integrity, obviously. But Chloe is now a message and three hours ahead, instead of being a daily fixture in her apartment, and it leaves Beca feeling off-kilter.

But maybe that distance is a good thing, after... you know. Revelations.

Anyway.

Her work ethic doesn't stop rumors. She's linked to every guy available — and some not — every single time one of them likes her Instagram posts. She's pretty sure she's had at least two full relationships, according to the National Enquirer.

Theo gleefully sends her screenshots. She tells him to fuck off.

 *

 Chloe Look out, super star! I'm going to be in LA for a good friend's wedding in February!! If you think we're not going to hang, you're sorely mistaken.

 Beca is busy, but she sure as hell isn't going to miss Chloe coming to LA.

 Beca You have good friends outside of the Bellas? I am shocked, Beale.

 Chloe Don't be jealous 😉

 She's not. Not because of that, she catches herself thinking, and frowns at herself. Not because of anything, she decides. It's also exactly how she decides she doesn't have feelings for Chloe anymore, because Chloe is happy with Chicago, and Beca has work, and honestly? Best outcome out of every outcome possible.

Still, Beca offers up her apartment for the long-ish weekend that Chloe would be in town. She's not a monster, and Chloe has like, a mountain of student debt.

It's the least she could do.

 *

 (Beca thinks back to that first performance at the Citadel, just under a year ago. Thinks of all the nerves she's never felt before, while she's walking to the microphone. She's always had the girls on stage with her, but not this time. Her family would be seated in the front row, supporting her no matter how far she goes.

She gets to bring them up on stage this time, of course, but it's also a temporary balm and she knows it. But that's fine, she can figure that part out.

It's the after that smarts a little.

After the performance, after the event, after she feels that pit, growing and clawing from her stomach when she sees Chloe lock lips with Chicago.

After she walks away with Theo, trying her level best to carry on a conversation as if she's not affected by what she'd just seen; trying not to think of all the what-ifs.

After, on the plane back home, when she directs a small smile at Chloe's direction. If she's happy then she's happy for her.

It's the least she could do.)

 *

 Chloe's flight reaches the airport at 7 in the evening, and Beca's right there at LAX, waiting for her to emerge. She can see a couple of people with the big paparazzi cameras, training their lenses at her, but she doesn't care.

There's a flash of red as she sees Chloe running to her, and thankfully she catches her.

"Oh, I've missed you," Chloe says, so earnest and sincere as always; always, and Beca can hear her own heartbeat. She's almost worried that Chloe can too, like a traitorous Tell-Tale Heart.

"Yeah, well, regular sight for sore eyes, that's me." That's good, right? She hits jocularity right in the bullseye with that, as if she can't feel the top of her ears growing hot.

Chloe just laughs; like another kind of warmth. She draws her in again, hand rubbing up and down Beca's back.

Beca thinks she's stupid, for feeling like she's home.

 *

 They get to Beca's place, Chloe appraising the place appreciatively as she wheels her luggage in.

"This is already at least fifty times nicer than our little shoebox in Brooklyn," she observes, and Beca shrugs, a little embarrassed.

"I mean, the label's paying for it, and it's like, it's — it's ridiculous." There's a voice at the back of Beca's head repeating, our little shoebox, and she wants it to shut up.

But it is ridiculous. She has so much space, and two rooms; she sleeps in one and the other one is where she works. She's pretty sure she spends more time in the latter than she does the former.

"Anyway, uh, so here's my sort-of office, it's a bit of a mess right now." She waves her hand around (god, why is she using her hands so much) at the room with her equipment and instruments, before stepping to her bedroom door. "And here's the bedroom, which, like. You should take the bed. My couch pulls out and it's really comfortable?"

"Don't be silly," Chloe tells her, looking back at the king-sized bed. "We've slept in way more crowded spaces. This will be perfect."

Beca swallows, hard. Perfect.

 *

 Falling back into a routine with Chloe is scarily easy.

She's been here for less than three hours, and Beca's already back to being attuned to her. They put on some music in the background, she listens to Chloe talk so passionately about school and all the stuff she's learning, and Beca is so proud.

She brushes her teeth and changes into her pajamas after Chloe does, exactly like how they used to, and climbs into her bed.

"Oh, shoot, I almost forgot," Chloe's saying, and Beca cocks her head curiously to see what she's forgotten. Her best friend comes back with a box, and hands it over to her.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Bec. Also, I don't think flash drives are in fashion now," she winks. "So your Google Drive storage has been renewed, for all the audio files you need to back up. Don't worry, I didn't look at anything else."

"Wh — oh. Oh, right, Valentine's Day, gifts and all," Beca says, and looks at the box in her hand. "Wait, is this —"

"Chocolate from your favorite place in New York? Yessss," Chloe says, a laugh coloring her tone. She settles back into bed. "Not that you have a shortage of chocolate places here, but Amy reminded me of the time she ate most of the last box after how you were saving your favorite pieces, so I thought I'd bring some here for you."

Beca's heart clenches.

"Thanks, Chlo." She's pretty proud of how unwavering her voice is. "I miss it."

"It's been tough for me too, not having you in my orbit," Chloe says, bumping their shoulders together.

"Yeah? Must be extra tough, because Chicago's not around either." Then she's scrambling. "Not that I'm like, comparing myself to your boyfriend in any way."

She sees Chloe's mouth twist to the side. Beca's eyebrows knit together.

"Chlo?"

"He's not my boyfriend anymore." Chloe's words are slow, measured. Like she's afraid of setting something off.

Beca pauses, as she takes it all in.

"Oh. I mean — Are you okay?"

"Yeah. It's been..." Beca sees Chloe's furrowed brows as she thinks. "Three months, almost. Just right before Christmas."

Beca thinks back to Christmas; to the group messages, the online gift cards and food deliveries made in each other's names. Nowhere in her memory exists this piece of information, and she's pretty sure she's not been that shitty of a friend to miss this.

It feels a little bit like being hurt, actually.

"Oookay," she says, licking her lips a little, letting the air out of her slowly. "Okay. Well. Good night, Chloe."

 *

 Beca can't fall asleep, and she's pretty sure she knows why. It's been an hour of staring at the ceiling, and she tries to will her stupid mind to shut down for the night.

She thinks Chloe must be asleep by now; her body clock must be three hours —

"Bec?"

Beca pauses for so long that she thinks Chloe might actually think she's asleep.

"Yeah."

She feels Chloe shift. "I want you to ask me."

Beca wants to be obtuse and frustrating; wants to pretend she doesn't know what she's talking about. Instead, the confusion and hurt win out.

She pushes herself up on her elbows, then into a sitting position. It doesn't feel like a conversation that they should have lying down. She waits for Chloe to do the same, before finding her voice and words.

"Why didn't you tell me that you and Chicago broke up?" Dimly lit by the street lights outside, Beca sees her shift in place, and she feels Chloe's hand reaching for hers. "I thought — well. You know. That we tell each other things."

Which is slightly rich, coming from her, she knows. But still.

Chloe sighs, just quietly. "Because I have feelings for someone else."

Beca blinks, taking that in. It's a weird feeling because she's simultaneously crushed and hopeful, and maybe it's the hour, or maybe it's Chloe's hand in hers, but as her eyes sweep across Chloe's face, Beca is emboldened.

She leans in, and time feels like it's slowing down as she closes the distance and presses her lips on Chloe's, roughly and then temperately.

Beca's not the most impulsive person. In the moments, though, when she is, they always leave her wondering if she'd done something stupid — like punching creepy middle-aged a cappella guys, like leaving in the middle of a fight, like pulling the girls up on stage during her solo set.

Like kissing Chloe Beale in her bed.

So she pulls back suddenly, as quickly as she had started it, an apology already stumbling out. "Fuck, I'm sorry, I just assumed, I'm so sor—"

Chloe makes a noise; something that sounds like no, her eyes so startlingly blue even in this light, and Beca freezes. She's sure her brain is working out some sort of rambling apology or excuse, maybe pass it off as a joke somehow?

But Chloe pulls her back in, both thumbs lightly touching Beca's cheekbones as she meets their lips again.

This second kiss is deeper, slower, more connected. It takes her breath away, as her hand curls at the back of Chloe's neck. Chloe tastes like mint and sweetness and sincerity, and a little like hopeless optimism on Beca's part.

A soft gasp escapes, and Chloe pulls away this time.

Beca has a tentative smile on her face, as she takes in a breath heavily; the questions written so plainly on her face.

Chloe's eyes shine.

"It's always been you, Beca."

 ------------

 v. 2020, Los Angeles, CA

 Having your anniversary on Valentine's Day is good. And bad.

Mostly good, because it means that Beca has that to help keep herself honest and not forget it, because it's impossible to.

Also, she won't forget, but, you know. Just in case.

Bad, especially last year, because it fell right around the Grammys weekend, and apparently when you're nominated and win pretty much... every single category you're in, that's kind of a big fucking deal.

(It started with Best New Artist, and by the time she's on that stage a fourth time, she literally had no other words and nothing but so much gratitude.)

But yeah, so last year's Valentine's Day-slash-anniversary was overwhelming. People contacting her from all corners, wanting to congratulate her and get some sound bites; the internet pouring both support, and scathing critique on her and her music.

Beca wishes she could say she rose above it, that she was as cool as her publicist thinks her to be.

Instead, Chloe had to deal with her, a stressful human ball of anxiety and nerves. Amazing, wonderful, sweet Chloe, just happy to be around her during these exciting and utterly vulnerable times.

 *

 This year, though. This year she's older and wiser.

Hopefully.

This year, the day falls on a Friday, but they've decided to celebrate it the next day and through the weekend instead, because Chloe has a seminar she needs to attend for school, and Theo had packed Beca's entire day with a long meeting.

Key word: had.

At 7 AM, as she wakes up groggily and checks her phone, the invite has disappeared from her calendar, presumably rescheduled for some other time. She vaguely notes the message from Theo about entire teams not being available, and Beca's not going to question the reason why, because she's immediately looking up flights to Ithaca and books the first one out.

 *

 (I'm not private jet rich, dude. Also, carbon footprint. Text to Amy, because of course.)

 *

 Here's her plan:

She'll make a beeline to Chloe's apartment (Beca's been here plenty of times, in the past couple of years; met her friends here in Cornell, hung out with them, appreciated that they're her support circle while she's here), and she'll say something incredibly dorky, and Chloe will kiss her, and then, they will properly celebrate.

God, the things Chloe can do with her mouth; the sounds Beca can get her to make.

Beca doesn’t even bother squirming in the plane seat.

 *

 Chloe I have a surprise!!!

Whereeee are you? 🥰🥰🥰

 *

 Here's what happens instead:

Beca has to fly back home — noun, the place where she lives; noun, Chloe — because while she was spending six hours flying east, Chloe had done the same in the opposite direction; her seminar being canceled (something about the professor being sick?).

She can't believe it.

Okay, she can maybe believe it.

God, the Bellas are going to have a field day with this.

 *

 In the group chat, Chloe's taken a selfie of herself in Beca’s apartment and captioned it: I flew here a day early to surprise Beca, but she flew to Cornell instead to surprise me too 😂

 Emily OMAG YOU GUYS that is SO CUTE!!!!!!

 Beca reads Emily's text, shaking her head, knowing that this is the younger girl's version of restraint.

 Flo One time I thought a guy was going to propose to his girlfriend on the plane, but turned out he was having a heart attack instead.

 Jessica&Ashley #justsoulmatethings

 *

 Rush hour in LA is so horrible, and it's nearly 8 PM when she finally gets back to her apartment. She jogs all the way from the Lyft to her door.

Beca never jogs.

Her own door flings open, and she sees the smiling face of the woman she loves.

"Flying cross country for me is so romantic."

"You did that too," Beca points out, a small smirk on her face.

"Yeah, but you did it twice." Chloe beams, and kisses her again, and again.

[9tzuyu]

children of tragedy [pt.2]

note: hi. i totally did not mean for this to be a filler chapter but thats what it ended up being :(. i hope you guys still like it though. this is mostly natasha x reader (platonic), so maybe that’ll make up for it? lmk your thoughts!

mistakes are mine as always.

warnings: talk of alcohol abuse

pt. 1 | pt.3

🏷 @peggycarter-steverogers @blackxwidowsxwife (tagged since its nat centric)

when you left in the middle of the night while wanda slept in the other room. you didn’t bother waking her to say your goodbyes, instead wanting things to be quick and simple. telling wanda goodbye would only prolong that process. 

you did, however, leave one last sticky note on the kitchen table for her to see when she woke up. it was nothing over the top, just a reminder to make sure she ate and took care of herself.

(and of course your signature smiley face at the bottom of the paper. she loved your odd little version of a smiley face.)

you packed a bag separate from everything wanda put together and stuffed it to the brim with bare necessities. clothes were replaceable. what you had with wanda was not. besides, she probably wouldn’t mind keeping a few of your sweatshirts. they were always her favorite.

rummaging in the side pockets of your jacket you found the last twenty dollar bill you had and used it to catch the next bus across town. 

in all honesty you would’ve texted natasha to tell her you were on your way, but your phone had been dead for three days and you didn’t bother charging it after last night’s conversation. natasha wouldn’t mind though, you’ve been friends with her for over seventeen years. she was the only person who knew about your upbringing and all the abusive relationships between. she’d been there countless times to pick you up from the hospital your exes put you in, never once blaming you for what happened.

similarly to wanda, natasha never judged you for your decisions or ways of coping. she worried just as much as wanda did, but knowing you hated having to talk about things she kept silent. there were only a handful of times natasha could think of where you talked to her about what happened.

with a deep breath in, you slung your backpack over your shoulder and stepped off the bus. the walk to natasha’s house from your drop off area was only about fifteen minutes, but within that short amount of time you managed to get worked up over wanda. your thoughts were so loud that by the time you made it to natasha’s door step you had tears streaming down your face, your nose red from wiping it with the sleeve of your jacket. 

natasha was quick to answer, but she hadn’t expected you of all people to be standing right in front of her. snapping herself out of shock, she pulled you in for a hug before moving back to check you for any signs of bruising. 

there were a few, but they were fading nicely against your skin. and the cuts she found looked like they had been treated with care, which only confused the redhead. she hadn’t heard from you in over eight months, so it wasn’t surprising that she missed out on hearing about wanda. 

what a shame, you thought to yourself. she would’ve loved her.

natasha closed the door behind you and brought you over to her sofa. you laughed remembering that you were in this very same position last night; although it wasn’t like natasha could break up with you or anything of the sort. 

“stay here, i’ll be right back.”

you glanced at the clock on natasha’s wall seeing that it was three in the morning.

it was only when natasha came back when you noticed her disheveled hair and chapped lips. it was clear she was sleeping prior to you knocking on her door. she immediately noticed the guilty look on your face and quickly went to stop you from overthinking.

“none of that now, i don’t care at all that you woke me up at three in the morning. i haven’t seen you in over eight months, i’d be angry with myself if i hadn’t heard you knocking.” unsure how to reply, you nodded solemnly. 

she smiled, “are you hungry?” you licked your lips, food hadn’t crossed your mind in hours. “very.”

you followed her to the kitchen where she brought out a can of soup and set it to cook on the stove. 

“i don’t have much, i keep forgetting to go to the store.” she shrugged, leaning against the counter top.

“s’okay.” 

you awkwardly stood in the middle of the room, arms folded as you stared off into space. natasha took this opportunity to really get a look at you.

she could see the outlining of a bruise on the side of your cheek, and judging by the size, you had to have taken a pretty bad hit. there were also a few bruises around your neck as if someone had tried to choke you. 

she bit her lip, wincing internally at the thought of you getting choked so violently that it left marks as dark as the nail polish natasha once used as a teenager. it hurt her even worse knowing that this person was supposed to love you. 

you caught natasha’s gaze and shifted yourself further away from her. she tried not to frown, but you saw the slight downward movement of her eyebrows before she had a chance to look unbothered. 

“the soup, tasha. it’s going to burn.” you reminded her. 

“ah!”

she stirred the liquid content with a spoon and brought it to her mouth. “just right.” you watched her pour a safe amount into a bowl before giving you a spoon she hadn’t wrapped her lips around.

“lets go sit down so you can eat, yeah?” 

you followed her like a lost little kid back into the living room. if it hadn’t been for such serious issues at hand, natasha would’ve commented on how adorable you looked clutching the bowl with two hands while you unconsciously bit the insides of your cheeks because you were scared of breaking something. 

she gave you time to finish eating. you ate slower than she remembered, but she didn’t think too much of it. the last bite was when natasha when noticed the large scar across your hand. 

(god did she hate herself for not seeing it sooner because what the hell?) 

you moved to go put the dish in the sink, but natasha stopped you, gently grabbing the scarred hand to keep you from leaving. 

“don’t worry about that right now. set it on the coffee table and i’‘ll take care of it when we’re done here.” her voice was soft enough for you to feel safe, an affect only one other person could do. 

natasha didn’t say anything else, she wanted you to feel in control, to feel comfortable enough to talk about it.

the crack of your knuckles could be heard after a few short seconds of silence. there was no reason for you to feel so nervous. it was just natasha after all. she would never hurt you.

(you were brave. you were okay. you can do this.)

“she was so good to me, nat.” the redhead scoffed, but you were quick to defend your now presumed ex. 

“she was! this time i really mean it, and i know that sounds redundant but i would put the love i have for you as a friend, as a sister, on the line.” she seemed to believe you after that. the look in your eyes told her everything she needed to know. 

“what happened?”

your lip started to quiver, “i ruined it.” natasha moved closer to you, wrapping her arms around you so that your body rest against hers. “how’s that?” 

“i can’t stop drinking, couldn’t, and she had to do the right thing for herself.” her grip tightened around your frame. she hated not knowing you were drinking again. the first few times weren’t too bad, but she had a feeling this time was more than she could help with.

“she was so good to me, tasha and i ruined it. i fucking ruined every bit of it because i’m too weak to-”

“stop. do not finish that sentence or else i’m going to give you a sisterly lecture for the next three hours about every good thing that makes you who you are.” her threat came off as a joke, but if needed, natasha would actually hold herself to her own word.

you sighed and visibly deflated, natasha allowing the tiniest smile grace her lips from behind you. 

“what was her name?” your eyes found their way to natasha’s hands and the rings that clung to the base of her fingers. “wanda.”

“how did she treat you? i mean really treat you.”

you fiddled with her rings, twisting them back and forth absentmindedly, “she used to bandage my wounds with like, five layers of gauze, i swear. i always thought she was just being over dramatic, but sometimes the bleeding would even seep through that.” 

your breathing began to slow down. “she would always come when i needed her, whether that be when i blacked out from drinking or if i was sick and needed help taking a bath.”

“she sounds like a good person.”

“she is.” 

natasha hummed, “you really scared me, you know?” you moved to try and face her, but she kept her arm wrapped securely around your torso. “i didn’t hear from you in over half a year and now you’re here. you’re my best friend and i thought you were dead.” there was a crack in her voice. god knows she didn’t want you to see her cry.

(that’s why she held you in place, but most of all because she missed having you close.)

“i’m sorry, tasha...” 

“just don’t ever do that to me again or i will kill you myself.” you rolled your eyes at her reply. “i’m not, i promise.”

you moved off her lap, turning your body so you were face to face with her. “where do i go from here, nat?” 

she thought dor a second, “can you make it through tonight without a drink? or will withdrawls be too bad?”

you paused, surely you hadn’t gotten to the point where withdrawls were as serious as you’d seen in all the medical shows and documentaries. “i think i’ll be good.”

natasha nodded in approval, “do you want help?”

it was the question of the century for you. the answer should be a simple yes, but it never failed to amaze you how much weight could be carried behind a three letter word. there was a chance for you though, something you might not ever get again. and honestly, natasha’s heart couldn’t take another relapse like this. eight months of not knowing if you were alive or not was bad enough, she couldn’t imagine not seeing her dearest friend for the rest of her life.

“yes,” you exasperated, “yes, i wan’t help.”