#and then LOCK all the assignments on the last day of spring break???

[2024skin]

Really confused as to why it says there are no assignments listed under the week of spring break, yet I am missing a test that was due the last Sunday of spring break

[zia-saturn]

Vibe [AU fic] Intro

SUMMARY: You offered to take Shigaraki's virginity. You wondered how he was going to fulfill your sexual appetite. You could tell he was eager to please. You roused something in him, an insatiable man that could not get enough of you. You had Shigaraki so sprung like crazy.

Virgin! Shigaraki/ Thicc! Reader

Virgin! Shigaraki/ Curvy! Reader

18+ readers only

❌MDNI❌

[DISCLAIMER: The characters respectfully belongs to the creator of 僕のヒーローアカデミア Boku no Hero Academia/My Hero Academia, Kohei Horikoshi.

All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of the respective owners. The author of the fanfiction is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.]

MATURE CONTENT WARNING: This fanfiction is intended for mature audiences only.

This story contains explicit adult sexual content. If you are easily offended or are under the age of 18, please leave now. Reader discretion is advised.

•••°°°°••••°°°°••••

"Where in the hell is he?" You stepped out of the doors of the lecture hall, tapping your thumb on the keypad to your phone. You checked what time it was on the screen. It was almost the late morning, going into the early afternoon hours.

As your last lecture came to an end that day, you had plans to meet up with your partner for your project that was assigned to the both of you by your professor.

Shigaraki Tomura was the person who you were partnered with. You tried to get a good look at him but his face was mostly obscured by his long, ruffled cyan hair and black hoodie. His head was panned down as his eyes stared at his notebook throughout the entire lecture.

If you were fast enough, you could find him.

Or so you hoped.

But still, you knew that there was a possibility that he couldn't have gotten that far in such a short amount of time. You underestimated his ability to slip away undetected into the crowd. Immediately, you could feel a hint of annoyance begin to grow.

The stress of having demanding courses, running an online side business, working a day job and graduating was getting to you. There was definitely a heavy load on your shoulders. You hardly had any time to sit down and blink your eyes for a lousy few seconds. Your life after graduation would be even tougher as you would be entering nursing school.

One of the few things that brought comfort to you was Spring Break. That was one of your most favorite times of the year. You along with other friends had the money saved up to travel to the Bahamas that year. Things always get wild each and every Spring Break vacation you go on. Just recalling the memories made you blush and a bit wet from time to time.

The previous year was a vacation that you will most definitely hold dear to your heart and your libido. It was full of exhibitionism, voyeurism and non-stop sex marathons day in and day out. You had most of your sexual crusades saved on video in your phone. Once in a while, you like to watch videos of yourself getting fucked as you spend your lone nights pounding yourself with your favorite ribbed dildo.

•••°°°°••••°°°°••••

You stopped at a cafe nearby the campus to grab yourself two strawberry cheese Danishes to go. The wait was about three to four minutes. You politely thanked the employees at the cash register and bid them a good day.

As you turned to leave the cafe, your eyes caught the sight of an individual sitting at the corner of the cafe, near the back. It looked like he had chosen that seat so that nobody would bother him, almost as if he was sequestering himself from the other patrons on purpose.

The first thing you noticed about him was his very pale skin. It was almost translucent. He was quite thin as well. He wore an oversized black hoodie that was pulled over his head so that you barely noticed his tousled locks of cyan hued hair.

You immediately recognized him from class. What a relief that you were able to find him without going through any kind of extensive searching and scouring around the entire campus. All of his attention was towards his phone that he had in his hand. He was so immersed in the screen that he did not even notice that you were walking towards him.

"Oh! Thank goodness I found you." You sighed, feeling at ease. "You left before I had the chance to talk to you. I wanted to discuss the group project that we were assigned earlier." You clutched your books against your chest. A cute taupe pleather purse was strapped to your shoulders with your pastries safely wrapped inside of it.

His head shot up as soon as he heard your voice. It took one second to gather your thoughts when his eyes met yours. You hardly saw a person with scarlet eyes before. You wondered if he wore contact lenses or if those red eyes were his natural eye color.

"Hmm? Oh yeah. I almost forgot about that." The blue haired young man muttered under his breath before turning his attention back to his phone.

You noticed how standoffish he was but it wasn't a personal snub towards you. He displayed the same behavior towards everybody he crossed paths with.

You were concerned about his flippant attitude towards the project because it would count for a huge chunk of your grade. It was important for you to graduate with an excellent GPA.

"So, you almost forgot about it? Well, I'm already stressing out about it and it's hardly been thirty minutes since class was dismissed. I need to pass the course with flying colors. I'm a senior. This is my last semester here. I graduate this coming May. I am going for my bachelors and after, I'm planning on going to nursing school to become a registered nurse." You explained to him, tucking a lone strand of hair behind your ear. He did not budge when he heard your statement.

"If you don't mind me asking, what year are you in?" You asked Tomura in an attempt to make small talk. Creating a sense of familiarity through constant communication was an excellent way to build a healthy partnership with another person. You genuinely wanted to get to know him. It was important that you were able to break the ice with him.

Tomura, on the other hand, felt the opposite. His prejudgments and assumptions lead him to believe that you were like all of the other ditzy whores running around campus. He was certain that you were trying to exploit him for resources or his intelligence. You seemed like the type. Otherwise, why would a pretty lady like you be talking to him? The bitter raging cynic in him told him to put all his emotional walls up around him.

"Sophomore." Tomura simply stated.

He really did not notice you in his class but he really did not notice anyone in general. His main focus was getting the course material, taking the necessary notes and then leaving before anyone had the chance to speak to him. He tried his best to avoid socializing because that was definitely not his strong suit.

However, that did not stop him from observing you from head to toe.

Plump glossy lips, doe shaped eyes, long thick wavy hair and hourglass shape? Even though you wore loose fitting hospital scrubs, your curves were still noticeable, especially your backside. Your ass was nice and round and your thighs were another story. They were thick and juicy. You were a whole snack.

You took a seat and sat in front of him. You had a few minutes to spare before your shift at the University's hospital were to start. "I don't mean to bug you but, I would just like to know our general plans for the project. We could worry about the details later."

Tomura's was so relieved that the project did not have any speaking parts. That part was optional. "Well, you don't have to worry about that. I'll do 90 percent of the work if that's what you want."

You frowned slightly at his assumption of you being lazy. The man did not know you from a can of paint. If he walked a mile in your shoes for just one day, he would know how much of your schedule consisted of non-stop work day in and day out. There was an itch inside of you that wanted to give him a piece of your mind and set him straight.

Tomura definitely lacked a lot in the personality and the socialization department. You wanted to be mature about this and find a way to reach some kind of middle ground with him.

"Listen." The tone in your voice was much stern than before but you were able to remain calm. "I really want to contribute to the project. I would feel like a failure if I just let you do all the work yourself. This is supposed to be teamwork. I'm willing to work with you if you would just give me a chance." As you finished your statement, you sat up straight and crossed your arms.

Tomura just blinked his eyes and observed your body language. His curiosity about you began to grow. There was something about the way you showed your confidence when it came to voicing your needs and expectations.

"I guess we could work together if you're willing to do your share. You seem genuine enough." He gave a stiff nod of approval.

"What makes you think that I wasn't being genuine in the first place?" Your tone was a bit softer.

"I don't feel like explaining myself but, women in the past usually left most of the workload up to me and just pretended as if I did not exist once they got what they wanted from me…" He explained with a hint of bitterness in his tone. It made him angry just recalling what happened in the past.

"So, you just assumed that I was going to do the same thing to you? Is that it?" Your eyes narrowed a bit, trying to remain sympathetic towards him.

"To be honest? Yes." He bluntly answered, crossing his arms.

"Well, I'm not like them." You rolled your eyes at his subtle hostility. "Not all women are the same just like all men aren't the same. I believe in the philosophy of 'treat others how you would like to be treated'. Like I said before, I'm willing to work with you if you're willing to cooperate with me."

"Ah. Smart, genuine and pretty. I don't see any of your types around here too often." Tomura tossed you a snide smirk your way.

"Trust me; there are plenty of women who are very beautiful and kind hearted out there in the world. It would not hurt to step outside more and socialize." Then, you checked your phone for the time. You had about two minutes before you had to leave for work.

Tomura made a grunt of annoyance and checked his phone too. He did not want anyone to tell him what to do or where to go. He absolutely hated going outside, not to mention his socializing skills were terribly weak, almost non-existent. He spent most of his free time cooped up in his dorm gaming and studying.

You quietly observed Tomura as he took his free hand to scratch his nails onto the flesh on the side of his neck to satiate the irritating itch that was bugging him ever since you began speaking to him.

It was apparent that he was dealing with some personal issues that had him in the state that he was in. Everything from his skin to his physical stature was in need of some positive modification of care. You wanted to give Tomura some advice on how to improve his physical health but, you decided that it would be best to keep your comments to yourself. That did not stop you from being concerned for him. It seemed like he could use a positive influence in his life. He could use a person who could help him get out of his shell.

However, you could definitely be of some assistance when it came to his skin care. Most of his exposed flesh looked so dry and flaky, especially around his mouth.

"I noticed that you have the habit of scratching your neck. Is there anything wrong? Is it a rash?" You asked Tomura.

"Um…" Tomura's eyes darted downwards, focusing on his foot as he tried his best to avoid making eye contact with you. It was evident that he was ashamed of his habit. "It's kinda…hard to explain."

Your observation wasn't meant to be taken as scorn or criticism against him and you wanted him to know that. "Sweetie. I would highly suggest that you stop because your skin could get infected or you might give yourself a permanent scar around that area. I could give you some of my custom made home remedies for skin care. They're all handmade and mixed by me. I usually sell them online just to make some extra cash on the side."

Tomura kept quiet as he glared at you with suspicion.

"Don't worry. It's not a pyramid scheme and I'm not trying to recruit you into anything. I am the boss of my own side business and I work for no one but myself. No one is working above me or beneath me. I am the sole proprietor. As a matter of fact, I will give you some of my products free of charge." You assured him with a friendly smile.

Tomura did not know what to think about your kind gesture. It really confused him for a moment and he had trouble finding proper words to say to you. "Oh really? I mean, you really don't have to—"

"I know I don't have to, but I want to." You reassured him, placing a hand gently on top of his. You wanted to show him that you meant well by him and that you actually cared for him.

This was a VERY rare occurrence of a beautiful woman showing enough interest to even help him with anything. You were so kind and patient towards him.

However, a hint of cynicism kept prodding his thoughts.

Then…

Those cynical thoughts spiraled and led him to accusing you of feeling pity for him as if he was a sad charity case that had no hope in life. Afterwards, there came a flood of self defeating thoughts. Those thoughts usually held him back from moving further in life as far as relationships and friendships were concerned.

This was feeling a bit too intense for him at the moment. He needed the time to process the events that just took place.

"I will let you know if I need anything." He stated in a curt tone.

You had the feeling that he was overwhelmed so you decided to leave him alone to have his space. Besides, it was time for you to head off to work anyway.

You stood up from your chair and bid him a good day. "Okay. I'll see you next week."

Tomura meekly waved at you and watched you leave the cafe. His scarlet eyes noticed how your hips and ass swayed from side to side as you walked out. He thought your little stroll was the sexiest thing he has ever seen so far. It had a natural seductive rhythm to it.

That was a vision that would certainly linger in his mind before he fell asleep tonight. It was the image that will be the cause of him waking up the next morning with his legs and thighs covered in his own cum.

•••°°°°••••°°°°••••

One week later….

You stood by the door of the lecture hall with your thumbs tapping away at your phone, waiting for class to start. Class would not start for another twenty minutes but you always liked to arrive earlier than expected. Your business e-mail was absolutely clogged with different requests, special orders and warehouse inventory related messages. It would take you forever to reply to all of them but, you had to pace yourself so you won't get so overwhelmed to the point of burning yourself out.

"So…you're quite early today."

Tomura's voice snapped you out of your little busy mental bubble.

"Oh. Hey there." You giggled quietly, your mind still preoccupied with your e-mails. You managed to rapidly tap out in the last reply to one of your messages before you gave your full attention to your classmate.

"I'm sorry if I seem distracted. Work is piling on me. I can't catch a break to save my life." You tried to laugh off the stress. A long nap was calling your name once you had the chance to reach your apartment that night.

"It seems like you have a lot on your plate." Tomura sighed, slowly taking a step towards you.

"I do. Lord, give me the strength." You looked up towards the ceiling and clasped your hands together before piteously giggling.

He just chuckled. He found your humor to be cute. It only intrigued him more.

"Um…" He began, but went silent.

A few awkward seconds of silence followed. He cursed himself for not being able to have enough balls to continue the rest of the conversation.

"How was the rest of your week?" You asked him.

"It was alright…I guess. I managed to gather some useful source material for the research part. Now, I just have to begin the written report."

"Oh? I was thinking that I could take care of that part."

"Are you sure? I don’t want to put any more workload on you. You seem really busy with other important things, especially with your other classes and your jobs." He scratched the back of his head, looking down at his own sneakers. He avoided making any eye contact for more than a second.

"Ah. That reminds me. Would it be cool if we could trade phone numbers?" You prepared your thumb to tap his number and confirm it into your contact list.

He felt shocked that you asked him for his number first. Then again, phones are the easiest way to keep in contact with anyone in this day and age. Besides, he did not want to read too much into your request. He reminded himself that this exchange was for academic purposes, not for anything personal nor romantic. "Yeah. Sure."

You called him to make sure your number appeared on his screen. It did and he proceeded to save your number with your name in his own contact list.

•••°°°°••••°°°°••••

An hour and a half later…

After class, you two agreed to meet up in the library to discuss the project in much greater detail. During that time at the library, Tomura felt more at ease working with you but his nervousness was still there. Your aura was so friendly and inviting which made it easier for him to become more engaging with you as time went on. It made it a comfortable environment for him.

In some instances, his mind dozed off and he stared at your face. You were so pretty to him. He zeroed in on your lips whenever you spoke.

They were so soft…

So supple…

He wondered how they would feel wrapped around his cock. Very dirty and sordid thoughts swirled around his mind and they did not stop. They just got filthier and filthier by the second.

Damn. What would it look like to see you beg for him to fuck you after he finished painting his cum all over those sexy lips of you?

Then, his mind as well as his eyes drifted towards your breasts. On that day, you wore a tight spandex long sleeve shirt with a bit of cleavage showing with a pair of tight denim jeans that complimented your hips, thighs and ass very well.

Would you beg for him to splatter his thick cum all over your gorgeous breasts? One could only imagine. How would your ass feel once you made yourself comfortable in his lap? It would feel so soft and warm. Yes it would. He decided it would feel soft and warm.

You noticed Tomura practically leering at you and you had to constantly remind the young man to stay focused on the project.

Of course, he would incessantly apologize for losing sight of the important task at hand. You forgave him but sternly warned him to pay attention to the project. He would gladly obey your instructions. There was something really enticing with the way you would take charge and give orders.

Your stay lasted for about an hour before you decided to call it a day.

Your partner just leaned back in his chair, stretched his arms before giving out a large yawn. “Fuck, man. I can’t wait till this project is done and over with. I hate class projects. I really hate working with other people because they annoy me so much.” He recited that statement with a tired sigh.

“Do I annoy you?” You gently smiled at him. “Maybe, I should be next time.”

“I’m just pleasantly surprised at how smooth things went today. I really enjoyed working with you and that’s not something that I usually tell anyone.” He scratched his neck again.

“Oh? Is that so?” You arched an eyebrow up in curiosity. You wanted him to elaborate and you waited for him to do so.

Tomura almost flinched when his hand was gently pulled away from his neck and nestled in yours. Your hand felt so soft and you smelled so sweet. Then, he recalled what you told him the other day about quitting his habit of scratching. The gesture you just displayed was a reminder to him to stop. Your thumb caressed the top of his hand.

“Well…yeah.” He stuttered. His heartbeat picked up a bit. You made him so nervous. At the same time, he felt a sense of comfort. Your presence gave him a feeling of solace. It was so confusing to him.

“I have something to give you.” You turned your back to him for a minute to retrieve an item from your purse. It was a brand new tube of lip balm. Specifically, it was one of your custom made lip balms. The packaging was simple yet appealing. It had your own company logo on it.

You removed the protective plastic tamper seal of the small tube and turned the knob before slowly applying the smooth balm all over his lips. Every ingredient was natural. The ingredients were: Beeswax, Shea butter, Peppermint, Coconut Oil, Cocoa Butter and Vitamin E. The topical salve provided maximum conditioning and healing moisture to the skin.

“This is one of my balms that I made myself. There are many more flavors that I have in stock. I am going to give you some of my products the next time we meet.”

As you applied the balm, you noticed that there was a small mole near his chin. Many people regarded that mole as a 'beauty mark'. It really did fit him really well. "You're so cute. You know that?"

Tomura just blushed before he let out a chuckle to ease the tension. “Thanks. I guess.” The sensation on his mouth felt really odd to him at first but it soothed every parched and cracked crevice of his lips. That balm was quick to do its job. "It's pretty good. You actually made this yourself?" He rubbed his lips together, getting used to the tingling taste of the peppermint. His lips felt smoother than before.

"Yes, I sure did. I enjoy creating my skin care line. It's quite a lucrative field for me." You placed the tube in his hand before wrapping his fingers around it. "Take it. It's yours. Free of charge."

"Thanks. You're really kind. I usually don't care about any of this cosmetic bullshit. I normally don’t make a fuss about my appearance. I just don't see the point." Tomura just shrugged. He did practice basic daily hygiene rituals such as showering and brushing his teeth but, that's the most he's ever done.

"Well, I believe that you deserve to feel comfortable in your own skin. I think you're handsome and you have potential." You gave him a reassuring smile before checking the time on your phone.

"Oh! I need to get going now. I promised my friend that I would meet with them for dinner tonight." You packed up your things and stood up from your chair.

“So, I’ll see you in a couple of weeks? We could meet up after class to discuss the final draft of the report. Is that fine with you?” He asked you. If he were to be honest, he thought it was way too soon for you to part ways with him. It would be nice if you were able to stay with him and hang out a little while longer.

Or overnight.

In his bed.

Or him in your bed.

With your soft thighs wrapped around his waist.

He did not feel one ounce of shame when it came to his fantasies about you. You were really tempting him and it was not fair. If he had the opportunity, he would pounce on you in a heartbeat. And once he was done drilling you into the mattress he would empty his balls inside of you, filling you up with his warm thick cum that you so rightfully deserved. He would not let one drop go to waste. All of it would be inside of you, gushing into your womb. He’ll cum inside of that heavenly pussy over and over again.

“That sounds good to me. I’ll text you if I need anything before then.”

“Cool. I’ll see you later. Thanks for the balm. I’ll make sure to use it every day.” He gave you a small smile, showing his appreciation. Small beads of sweat formed on his forehead, feeling so much tension in his pants at the nonstop explicit thoughts that keep rattling in his mind. He prayed to God that you didn’t notice the small bulge that was underneath his jeans.

You did notice but you kept quiet. It was flattering to you that he found you so visually appealing enough that he was about to bust in his pants. “You’re welcome, babe.” You leaned over the table to pet him on top of his head. You made sure that Tomura could get a nice view of your cleavage.

If he didn’t know any better, you were trying to entice him. The pet name was a clear indicator of that.

You sensed that he was ogling and eyefucking you every time you walked away, had your head turned or became distracted by something else. Your suspicions were correct. It was then that you concocted a sneaky plan for the next time you were to meet up with him. This was a sexy game that you were willing to play. A game that you would for sure win.

•••°°°°••••°°°°••••

Two weeks later…

You spotted Tomura sitting in the student lounge flipping through the pages of one of his text books. You sat next to him on the plush cushion couches. "Hi darling." You greeted him with a sweet, gentle tone.

There weren’t that many people around at the moment except for one or two other people besides you. They were sitting at the other side of the lounge. You made yourself comfortable once you took a seat on the previously vacant spot next to him on the sofa. Maybe a little too comfortable.

"Hey." He slightly blushed at the affectionate pet name.

Tomura’s eyes widened at your choice of outfit. It wasn’t anything too revealing. All you wore was a white tank top and light blue jeans. It was a pretty simple outfit but it was so tight on you, tight in all of the right places. Your cleavage was much more noticeable. If you were to give a slight tug down at your neckline, those tits would just spill out in front of him with little to no effort at all.

You wore that shirt on purpose. You most certainly had his undivided attention. He was wrapped around your little finger.

“I’m sorry that I disappeared after class. I had to use the restroom.” You yawned, outstretching your arms as you did so.

He tried so hard not to gawk at you in front of your face. “Don’t worry. I wanted to get myself something to drink before we met anyway. I’m just glad that you received my text. I apologize for the sudden change for the meet up location.”

“It’s alright. Thanks for letting me know. I really wasn’t in the mood to play cat and mouse today. But, I’m glad I caught you.” You let out a small purr while gently clawing at his hoodie collar.

He gulped. A large lump slid down his throat as he swallowed. His body temperature rose a bit. He wasn’t used to being teased by any woman. It was hard to find his words at the moment.

You felt sinisterly playful on that particular day. “So, do you have the final draft with you?” Your breasts were pressed against his arm.

“Um…Yes. I do. I have a copy of it here with me. You can keep it so you could add your part in. We should compare notes and perhaps you could rewrite the report with your part included. I’ll send you another copy in an attachment through e-mail. Then, we should be good to go.” He stated, trying his hardest to remain composed in your presence.

You were about to make things so difficult for him.

Were your nipples hard?

They definitely were.

They poked out like pebbles underneath that white stretch fabric of your tank top.

“Thank you. You’re so sweet. You’re such a gentleman. Any woman would be so lucky to have you as her man.” You had a sultry smirk on your face.

“Well. I wouldn’t say that. I never had a woman to call my own. I don’t think that will ever happen in this lifetime.” He nervously scratched the side of his neck. This was so embarrassing for him.

"So wait. You mean to tell me that you have never been intimate with another person before?" You asked.

He was hesitant to answer that question for many reasons. One main reason was that he would face harsh judgment. "Um…well…no. No I have not."

"Aww~ Aren't you adorable?" You teased him as your fingers gently flicked and tugged the zipper of his hoodie. This was too good to be true. The hunt was much more delicious. You were like a lioness, on the prowl for her next capture. This one was about to be sweet and juicy.

Once again, Tomura's body temperature slowly rose to a higher temperature when he felt you tinkering with his collar and zipper. His pants were feeling a bit tight around his loins. Those pale cheeks of his had a faint pink tint to them and the tint only deepened when your face moved closer to his.

"What's stopping you?" You asked.

"I always had trouble getting a girl's attention."

"You have my attention." You winked at him. Then, you crossed your legs and leaned closer next to him.

Tomura just froze in place. ‘What the actual fuck ?!’ He sipped his coffee quickly, to keep himself from speaking.

"Well, you know. It would be such a turn on if I were to take IT from you. Would you let me be your first time?"

"Wait―WHAT?!" Tomura damn near choked on his hot caffeinated beverage when he heard your offer.

"I can see the look in your eyes. So can you. I know you want me." You cooed to him.

Tomura felt like the luckiest guy in the world at that moment. A beautiful woman who is willing to take his virginity and was so eager about it as well? He felt like he hit the jackpot.

"I'm going to have so much fun with you." You pressed your chest up against his. Both of his crimson eyes widened while his Adams apple bobbed from a harsh gulp. He thought this entire moment was unreal. This was too good to be true.

Both of your hands pressed on his chest. "We can indulge ourselves with some red wine. Some restraints and body oil and we can have ourselves an evening." You gripped his collar and roughly yanked him so his nose was touching yours. A hiss sharply escaped between your clenched teeth.

He felt like he was about to combust. His face was completely red. He just wanted to melt away from reality. He never knew how to flirt back because he never had the opportunity to. Most women did their best to avoid him as they considered him a weirdo.

You pouted. "What's wrong, darling? You look like a cherry. Is everything alright?"

He sputtered and mumbled. “Nothing’s wrong. It’s just—Are you sure? Do you really want to? Us? Together?” His eyes darted everywhere. His palms were so sweaty.

"Follow me to the parking lot. I want to 'show' you something." A devilish smirk stretched your face.

This was about to be good.

Notes: That's it for first chapter. I hope everyone enjoyed it. I originally posted this fic back in 2021 on my Ao3 page. I'm still in the process of writing the next chapter. Should I continue this?

[simp-ly-writes]

Suits, Ties, and Thus Spies (pt.8)

Pairing: Spy!Task Force 141 x Handler!Reader

Summary:The boy's have stated that you are their last mission at the agency. Little did you know how seriously they would take this operation. Familiar faces will appear, old one's will help to cast forward some advice, and maybe, just maybe in the end you can finally find that dancing partner.

Warnings: 2600 words, Mentions of Addiction, allusions to depressive behaviours and depictions of smoking, light mentions of violence.

A/N: the end nears but a sweet ending I promise!

Masterlist | Taglist Request | un-edited.

6:00 AM | Spring | Your Home

"Your our new mission," those words would come to haunt you. By-gone were your days of throwing your phone at the wall and yelling at your home's digital assistant, 'X.' To having your burnt toast with a shot of vodka to get your system started for the workday ahead of you. No- the boys would not allow you these things, nor a lonely moment as Johnny woke you up with a smile, jumping onto the other side of the bed as eggs and freshly-squeezed juice came wafting up the stares. Pots and pans banging to the morning news as you groaned, turning yourself over, trying to hide yourself deeper within the covers.

"C'mon Daniels, you should be used to our antics by now. We have a meet in 2 hours, gotta be looking good for the chief-"

"He can suck my ass, fucking putting me on that fucking mission in the first place. They all can go to hell," you grumble into a shriek as Soap quite literally shoves you off the bed and onto your carpeted floors. "Well that hurt, thanks Soap," you spit back, standing up with a huff before slamming the bathroom door closed, the sounds of running water had Johnny giving himself a self-high-five and he ventured back down the stairs.

John leaned against the counter, papers in hand as his gazed snapped up to his teammate, "They up?"

"Oh yeah," Soap answered, pouring himself a coffee before taking a seat beside the captain, a plate being served by Simon. Gaz tries not to laugh, coming out of your pantry with a set of tea-bags in hand watching as the giant tries to navigate your small living space with sub-optimal grace.

--

You gripped the steering wheel the whole way downtown, having to listen to Gaz and Soap's pointless arguments as they debated is Zebras have black or white stripes. John looked at you from the passengers seat, turning up the radio in a social cue to the boys in the back as you pulled into a parking space. Throwing the keys into his lap and slamming the door closed you scanned your ID, presenting a small smile to the newest secretary before locking yourself in your office, taking a deep breath in silence.

You would be lying to yourself if you didn't miss the constant silence that trailed your presence in the office space, everyone not knowing quite what to say or seeing your drink-driven self stumbling throughout the halls. It all felt worthless, empty, the fun of the job completely stricken without Whitby's pet names calling after you, his hand on your back, guiding you into meeting after meeting, or his humor through your radio as you wrote notes on his assignments back at home-base.

You felt sick, having to work, having to act as a Handler knowing that you ended up killing one of your men- who's to say you wouldn't do it again- but before these thoughts could consume you, like clockwork another pair of the boys had wrangled their way into your space with bright smiles, pressed suits, and a tray of snacks and tea in hand. "Ready for a meeting?"

--

6:00 AM | Summer | Your Home

The cycle would continue, the boys somehow breaking through your security systems- Soap always looked extra guilty. Shifting his eyes away from your sights, feet shifting as Gaz chuckled, "We are good at are work." Casting you a wink as you sighed, slowly falling into compliance, trying to hide a smile as fresh breakfast coating your counter tops and people talked to you about anything other than death when you were willing too.

Butt when the night came, you hated it, hated the way you were moving on- seemingly too quickly. Whitbys voice haunted your dreams, his promises of adventures without weapons and suits, cameras or contracts. So you put on a record, leaning against your coffee table in front of your electric fireplace, fingers pinching against your leg as you eyed your phone. A few of Price's messages left unanswered alongside Laswell's.

You fell asleep on the floor that night and in the morning Simon threw a blanket on top of your form, quietly brewing a pot of coffee while shifting through your cabinets for something to make, Johnnys booming voice echoed from the front door as Ghost cursed underneath his breath, you slammed your head against the wooden furniture, gun clicking into place as you rounded the corner. His hands pressed upwards, grocery bags dropping as an apple rolled down the hall, stopping at your slippers. "Morning!"

--

And yet, you were back at the office again. Suit freshly washed, a few new sets already in the works as you talked with Charlotte for the first time in months and yet, when you first looked into her eyes. Struggling for an apology, trying to find the right words for your lack of appearance. She pulled you into a hug, cursing your name playfully before joining your tears into her shoulder. "I missed you, Handler."

"I missed you too, Doctor, so very much."

--

You and Charlotte would train the newest agents, you were saddened to see such early versions of yourself, asking yourself where the time went, in a way where your life went. Yet their smiles, jokes, and spirits reminded you of Whitby. His never ending teasing or endless stream of thoughts he would converse with you. It had you chuckling in their faces as you flung another to the mat, raced down tree-lines with gear on your back in endurance training or in the firing rang as Charlotte yelled orders. You felt yourself slipping slowly back, allowing for her voice to order you and the fellow trainee's around for the few weeks you shared together before they all were sent away once more.

You through your hair back off your forehead, gaze snapping as the 141 boys cheered for you from behind the glass as you passed your quarterly fitness examination. You gave them a nod, heading towards the showers and once the adrenaline wore off, Charlottes voice was no longer ringing through your skull, you began to cry without a reason as to why. Just gripping the tiled wall as your shoulder heaved, the water turning cool as you glided into a towel, into a suit, and out the door once more. Taking a break out back once more, Simon silently joined yourself, picking up a lighter you both stared off to the park cars in the alleyway before Price was calling you all in for dinner orders.

--

Dinner, it was the time you looked forward most to. Your growing team with Jacobs and Jason, followed by Charlotte entering the room, various plates and games in their arms as they joined your crew. The office had a near daily board games event, debriefing with playing Monopoly or a supposed, "rigged" game of life as Gaz put it jamming a finger in your face, accusing you of cheating as you casted him a middle finger with a smile. He matched your expression with excited eyes.

--

1:00 PM | Autumn | Somewhere in the Country Side

Spring had slipped away just as the summer heat, you packed yourself back into layers in order to hide away from the chilling air. Today you would be embarking on your longest hike yet, Simon had commented on taking one of your weekends every month for a hike, and today would mark your 7th together.

You breathed in deep the crisp air, closing your eyes as you paused on the pathway before feeling for your cigarettes, you had stopped the drinking yet couldn't give it all up just yet, the itching in your spine, the sweat dripping down your forehead as you looked up the rest of the hill ahead of yourself, Simon paying no mind to your stoppage.

You took a deep breath of smoke in, coughing up the taste as it had been a few weeks since your last smoke. Your eyes started to burn fore you casted the remainder of the bud against your pant leg, stamping it out before chucking the remainders in your pocket. Picking up a light job to catch up to Ghost who stood now at the top, looking down at you expectedly as you neared.

"Nice view," you commented, looking over the yellow and red trees they swayed lightly in the wind. He grumbled out a yes, sitting back on a fallen log as you did the same. Opening his bag, you both took out snacks and water as you became absorbed by the sounds of the world before you. Birds wings fluttered, chirping in the skies above, A few snapped twigs off to your side reminded you of the shy animals hidden in the trees as a squirrel darted off bast your feet.

--

You came to host the games nights as Laswell invited over her wife. She brought a homemade cheese cake that you ate a few too many slices of, now feeling the food-coma overcoming you, losing whatever game was currently in play as your eyes became heavy.

A series of light snores had everyone softening their voices, Laswell and John observed your sleeping form with softened eyes. "They look to be someplace happy," you shifted into a smile, "yeah," John added to the conversation, placing his wining hand down as Johnny nearly flipped the table, cursing out the group before being quieted by a drunk Gaz covering his mouth with a hand, tilting his head over to you.

--

12:00 PM | Winter | Taylor's Tailors

Winter was a long and slow season, work had slowed down yet no-one dared to comment before a new recruit was tackled to the floor for saying the criminals were celebrating the holidays for the year. Rolling your eyes into a smile, you brewed yourself a new cup of coffee as you leaned against the printer, nodding along to whatever Samantha had to say as she ranted about her newest agents lack of regard to their personal safety after falling three stories and running after a convict.

You sat down together in the staff room, offering your own advice as you had finally signed the papers for that promotion. 'Handler of Handlers' Charlotte commented one afternoon as you requested the results of the quarterly exam. It was a new experience, being so far removed from the fields yet the distinction helped you to move on in many ways, not forgetting but being able to take a step back, regarding all the past to present and accepting the decades you worked together with fondness sprinkled with regret.

--

A few years later...

A phone called surprised you one morning, Price's name flashing across the screen as it had been some time since you last seen the boys at work, a part of you forgetting that in your new navy blue suit and pictures framed on the wall, a connection to Whitbys mom and a new dog established a mission finished that you never quite noticed up until now. "You boys are very clever, arn't you all, how's the military treating you, camo was very last year, I hope you know-"

"Hello to you too, Daniels," the Captain chuckles back to you, you can hear whatever chair he sits in squeaks to the movements. "Anything I can help you with?" you ask, fingers dancing across the keyboard, preparing an email to Laswell.

"Not exactly, but we all wanted to invite you to our wedding."

"Our wedding?" your voice raises, eyes now opening a tab to facebook as you stalked each of their feeds only to come up with nothing.

"Yeah... we met a officer. Great one at that, our team photographer, they go by Dice," you can hear the mans smile as you can't help put smile for him as well.

"Thats fucking incredible man! Oh my, when did this all happen, I-... wow. Give an Agent a minute or too, I thought I would be on this shit just like Laswell's..."

A series of laughs erruput in the background as you make an inquisitive, high pitched tone in question. "You're on speaker," Simon says as the rest of the boys yell out their hellos.

--

The boys go on to give your the rundown of the event and the overarching points leading up until now as you checked out of work early and made your way home, laughing and crying alongside their story.

"Well of course Im going to your wedding! Have to meet this Dice of yours, they have any friends or siblings" you tease out.

"Actually..." Gaz pipes up, looking around the room as your fingers tap against the steering wheel, sitting in your driveway, not wanting to end the call at this new information.

"So, they go by fish-"

"What the fuck are these codenames, seriously guys, fish?" you question.

"You're one to speak Daniels," Soap retorts, defending the stranger as a series of laughs consume the call, echoing around your car as you lean back, ending the call with a smile before stressing out on what you were going to wear.

--

It was bittersweet to attend the ceremony as you blinked past tears, throwing rice as they all ran down the isle together. You walked around their new house together, admiring the green scenery around you all as the summer sun illuminated the various colourful petals of the flowers inside the garden.

Pouring yourself a glass of lemonade, a dip in the couch had your gaze casting over to a tall woman. She placed her boots on the couch table across form you both. Setting her own glass down in her lap as he sunglasses slid down her nose as she gave you a once over. A playful smile pinching the corner of her eyes as you tipped your head in greeting. "Names Daniels, do you happen t be the infamous Fish everyones been tellin' me about?"

"My name would look rather good in lights but I rather hear you calling me Gabby, pleasure to meet you Daniels. Price was telling me all about your missions together when they came back, did you really slit a guys throat open in an ice cream parlour?"

--

And just like that conversation flew easily between the two of you, both unaware to everyone keeping away from the bubble you both had formed as they obsessed you both from inside. "Think they will get together?" Gaz asks, pulling an arm around Dice that snuggles further into their side. "Nah, they'll kill each other before that, sure of it," Soap responds, taking a swig from his drink before pulling Simon to a dance. Price taps against the glass window behind you both, you two startle to attention, now glaring at the man as he waves you both inside, pointing to the dimming sun as bugs rapidly surround you both.

Joining Gaz and Simon on the dance floor, you give Gabby a twirl as she dips you with a playful smile. You both whisper jokes into one another tear, nails digging into skin as your foreheads crash against one another. "Wanna go for a smoke?" Gabby softly asks, eyes darting over your shoulder and towards the front door.

"Yeah, just gonna get freshened up, be out soon," you give her hand a squeeze. It's already the next day as you check your watch and fix your hair. Hands pressed against either side of the sink, a voice drifts from memory as if the present as you make your way to join the lady waiting for you outside, "...and maybe one day we will dance together again but for now- it's time you took some lessons and find a new partner, I will be waiting to see all your new move..."

↳ Taglist: @thriving-n-jiving @cringeycookies @lilliumrorum @brokenpieces-72 @ashy-kit @notsaelty @hindi-si-ikay @sleepyycatt @no-lessthan3 @cod-z

↳ A/N: hope you all enjoyed reading this ending, if you read my Lasting Pictures series, Gabby and Dice are characters from that series, thought it would be a nice way to combine the two series. Thank you all seriously for the support, wouldn't write this much without it in all honesty, so thank you, again, truly.

[rxtroskull]

//Okay, i’m going to be completely and openly honest about where the hell I have been for the past few months and why I haven’t been posting very frequently on tumblr.

I urge you to scroll away if you do not want to read, this is just me explaining my situation and why I have been inactive

Sorry for not explaining anything sooner but, my personal business is my personal business, and I choose whether or not to disclose it. I ask for no sympathy or condolences, but for patience and understanding for as so why I have been sporadic.

Trigger warning for mentions of death, dementia, and mentions of car accidents

My uncle and my nana both consecutively died in 2023 when I had started the fall semester. My nana having died in october, and my uncle having died in december, the day before christmas eve.

I was an absolute wreck when my Nana had passed away and when I found out I literally couldn’t function normally for weeks. On top of my Nana’s funeral I was also swamped with my fall semester’s finals. All but three of my teachers were not very understanding about me missing homework assignments due to my grief, I couldn’t even focus on mourning my Nana Agan because I had several things due and I couldn’t be caught slacking.

When winter break rolled around I thought I would be able to catch a break and work on writing to distract myself more (I was already trying to distract myself by talking to my discord friends and writing through there) but on december 23rd, my mother recieved news that my uncle, who had very recently gotten into a hit and run accident and got diagnosed with late stage dementia, died. In the time leading up to his death me and my family were being run ragged trying to take care of him. I had to learn to lock my doors at night due to the fact he would randomly barge in thinking me and my brother’s rooms were the bathroom or his room, and even before winter break and my big move-out in august, I’ve had to be wary in case my uncle decided to wake up in the middle of the night and refuse to go back to bed. My cousin (his son) had finally gotten him to a nursing home after my family had been driven absolutely insane, and not even a couple days after he was admitted, he died.

I couldn’t even cry at his funeral, that’s how spent I was after everything. I still tried to remain positive, tried to remain active, but everything kind of just fell by the wayside and I only remained active on the discords I frequented.

And now i’m here, in the last semester of my freshman year, acrambling to finish my spring finals with 29k in student loan debt with only a few things posted to my other blogs to prove that I’m not dead. It’s been a rough several months, but things are starting to get better. I’m trying to heal and get better so I can work on the things I love, so hopefully at least by May or June i’ll be able to come back here without many issues.

Thank you for sticking around, I love you guys, and I’ll be okay, I promise.

Be safe everyone.

[lostmyshadesanon]

🦊 Here with my yearly contribution to the melting of @teyvat-writer 's braincells. A lot less set up to this one compared to last year, I hope you can forgive me, and I hope you have a lovely 🍰 day and many a good fortune! This one is early so it's not their bday yet everyone.

Stefano Valentini x Male!Reader (Part 1/?)

Tags: NSFW. No smut this chapter unfortunately. Violence. Blood. Death. The rude public. It's Stefano guys come on.

You stood outside the Krimson City Gallery freezing your ass off. You were shivering harder than that poor Chihuahua that passed you tucked away in it's owner's Gucci handbag.

Tonight all the rich and richer were gathering at the gallery to watch the grand unveiling of an artist you hadn't quite caught the name of. But you felt that you should be cut some slack considering that you were running on five hours of total sleep in the past three days, a stomach load of that vile tar the break room called coffee, and enough spite to reanimate the dead.

The "perks" of being the new rookie cop for the Krimson City Police Force meant that you were everyone's bitch. Or the more polite term would be the team gopher. Go for this and go for that. Get these files scanned in before lunch newbie, go get coffee for the detectives newbie, call the 80 year old technophobic witness who screams in your ears for hours newbie, and you could go on but you're afraid you'll knock yourself out reciting the mundane list of tasks.

And now to add to the list you were acting as line security during the dead of winter checking entrance seeker's tickets, and taking the brunt of those in lines irritability due to the cold. It had been a last minute assignment by the chief to add you to the group participating in the gallery's security and because of that your wardrobe was vastly unprepared.

You were supporting just the basic KPD uniform, which was more suited for the spring or fall, a red scarf you had just had the for thought to snag from your locker before being whisked out the door, your uniform's hat that didn't even brush your ears leaving them a bright red due to the biting cold, and your thermal socks desperately fighting to keep your toes from becoming ice blocks.

You squinted your eyes against the piercing wind, customer service smile plastered on your face, as you stamped the entrance ticket for another guest, that's coat cost more than your monthly rent as they angrily ranted about how long they had to wait in line, and did you know who they are?!?!

Externally you bowed your head in apology, and gestured them off to the next officer in line that was fortunately for them, and filled you with jealousy, inside the door to take their coat to check for weapons. Internally you glanced down at the rude event goer's red soled stilletos and contemplated how easy it would be run the point heel into the top of their foot on "accident" not enough to break the arch but enough to leave a bruise for DAYS.

Your smile just that much more plastic you turned to the next person in line. Locking eyes with very amused brown ones. You jolted up into formal posture trying to raise your shaking limbs into a salute, but they couldn't stay still long enough to hold the posture.

"Detective Castellanos!" You stuttered teeth chattering.

His eyes raked over you quickly before he whistled and shook his head at your appearance. "Damn, they're really running you hard aren't they newbie? Hand off your gear to Kidman here. She'll take over. And we'll take you to the break room to get warmed up."

You were ready to cry with gratitude if you didn't think it would freeze your lids shut. Carefully you handed off the stamp and entry list to Junior Detective Kidman and stumbled after Detective Castellanos.

Once inside the gallery he swiftly lead you through a side door and into a break room full of officers, a white board full of scribbles and grainy printed off pictures, and what looked like a table full of catered snacks. Detective Castellanos dropped you off in a chair next to the heater before detouring back to the whiteboard.

"All Right!" Castellanos called out silencing the idle chatter amongst the officers. "You all know why we're here, but just as a recap. There is a murderer going around pretending to be the next Van Gogh. He's kidnapping the rich and the beautiful before brutally mutilating them and then murdering them. He leaves photos at the crime scenes of the victims last moments before death, and what our analysts say is his form of a signature on his "art". A big show like this art exhibit is a prime space for him to kidnap a new victim, or and our analysts believe he has enough of an ego, to try and hijack this event and show off his "art" in place of Mr. Valentini's. Stay on your toes! That is all."

The crowd of officer started to disperse towards their assigned tasks, and thankfully to your nearly clutching the heater had warmed you up enough that you only had slight numbness and tingles in your extremities. Detective Castellanos popped up in front of you again grabbing you by the back of your uniform and bustling you out of the room. "Your with me newbie. Time to learn!"

Excitement hummed through your blood. You're sure with the amount of officers on the premise that, the newspaper appointed Photo Killer, wouldn't dare try something tonight but it's the most exciting thing that's happened to you all week! Carefully following Detective Castellanos around the Gallery as he pointed out places of entry, suspicious activity of viewers and what it could mean, and the rotation of officers in and out of the building.

Throughout the evening you had gotten close enough to Detective Castellanos for him to allow you to call him as just Detective or Sebastian, apparently Castellanos reminds him to much of when his mother would scream at him across the house when she was mad he released frogs indoors. You also learned about some of his past like he was divorced, and when he took on his new partners Joseph and Kidman. He even ruffled your hair at some point in the night though you jammed him in the side for that one, freezing for a moment in fear at the blatant disrespect before relaxing when Sebastian laughed through his wheezing, due to the pain.

You were filled with the determination to learn and a subtle need to please the Detective that seemed to be taking you under his wing! If you did well he might add you to his team which would be a fast pass to becoming a detective. At least you were determined for the first few hours by the time it was pushing close to midnight and you were now at close to four days without sleep you were about at your limit.

You could tell Sebastian was getting close to suggesting you call it a night, when the bell tolled midnight, and the lights cut out with a sudden pop. Screaming filled the venue when you felt Sebastian grab your arm firmly and start pulling you closer to a wall so as not to get separated. He was barking into the walkie talkie demanding to know what was going on.

As you were being pulled forward you swore you could taste something metallic just in the back of your throat. It reminded you of pennies you had been dared to put in your mouth back in your play ground days but where was it coming from?

Just as suddenly as the light went out a spot light appeared in the direction Sebastian was dragging you. A woman doing the splits was within the lights, her hands tied up above her head similar to a ballerina's pose her red soled pointing towards the cieling easily visible, her terrified but familiar eyes locked with yours before the lights clicked off again. A camera flash illuminated her for a brief second, and you saw a man standing over the woman with a knife, before the lights flooded the venue back to full brightness once more.

The woman was dead at your feet, blood pouring from her throat and stomach staining her outfit, in a manner similar to a tutu, a dark red and spreading slowly outwards to cover your feet. You knew her. It was the rude woman from the line. The one you could vaguely remember daydreaming about stomping on her foot with the very heels you could so clearly see now. Distantly you heard Sebastian curse as all hell broke loose behind you as gallery goer's screamed and tried to run for the exists.

"Newbie!" Sebastian yelled, "Secure the crime scene! Don't let anyone touch her. I have to make sure that no one leaves the premise! Our killer's here!" Sebastian repeated his orders into the walkie talkie as he sprinted towards the main entrance.

You didn't have to do much everyone was giving the woman a wide birth, if they were anywhere close at all. Carefully observing her while your fellow officers rushed around the scene. You jolted in shock when a man got close to you from behind.

"Sir you can't get any closer this is a crime scene!" You hurried exclaimed while turning around your eyes immediately connected with an intrigued blue grey eye, the other covered carefully up by dark brown hair.

"I wasn't going to disturb her." The man said his voice more of a pur. "But I admit I was a bit curious about the beautiful man appraising her so closely when he didn't take a single look at my gallery all night, and to learn what about her intrigues him so?" Icy eyes staring deeply into your own his head tilting in question and a rogueish smile tilting the corners of his lips pulling at the barely visible scaring under his fringe.

"Oh! You must be Mr. Valentini! You saw me? How? I mean how did you see I didn't admire your work?" You stuttered out about to continue asking the man to back away from the crime scene when he caught your gesturing hand and brought it to his slightly chapped lips.

"For a beautiful treasure such as yourself I am Stefano, and your scarf... it's as red as blood if you'll forgive the comparison and quite easy to track in a crowded hall such as this, and you dodged my question treasure." The question pulled from deep in the back of the artist's throat.

"Oh well," You stumbled over your answer a combination of nerves due to the inappropriate nature of your answers, and not wanting to offend the attractive man in front of you.

"Don't worry, treasure. I'm am artist any instructive criticism of my work is always welcomed." You flushed at the continued use of the pet name, and also the continued stroke of his gloved hand over your pulse as he retained ownership of your own. Though you had this small niggling feeling that the artist's words had more meaning than you thought.

You glanced around at all the paintings hung proudly around the Gallery. Before a brief flash of light drew your eyes down to a Polaroid of the poor victim floating softly in her blood. Guilty you glanced down and back up at him before stating, "Passion."

Stefano blinked slowly like a cat before mouthing the word. "Passion?"

You nodded swallowing thickly before continuing, "Your work is pretty. Don't get me wrong. Mr. Valent... Stefano! But it's kind of lifeless... That sounds terrible. It's just doesn't really have any feeling or passion in it."

Stefano continued to stroke your pulse with his thumb gesturing for you to continue but you could feel his grip become stronger his thumb pressing firmer against your wrist.

"But whomever the Photo Killer is. There's no denying his passion. It's terrible to say but each of his victims in their photos do look beautiful in a macabre sort of way... If he could get the same result without killing people I'm sure he'd be world famous because people would be moved by the passion he possesses for each of his works..." You were starting to feel a little uncomfortable as Stefano's grip continued to tightened the swiping thumb becoming faster and faster. You felt like you had tingles running down your spin from how intently he watched you.

"Yes," Stefano said in an almost could you say mournful voice? "If only such materials existed to communicate such art... Legally."

"Newbie!" The shout from Sebastian broke your staring contest with the artist. "Good you kept Mr. Valentini for questioning, and secured the crime scene." Sebastian carefully extracted you from Stefano's hold rubbing your wrist before directing you towards the door. Sebastian's eyes narrowed in distrust towards the artist's avid attention towards you.

Sebastian turned his head back to you. "Joseph just arrived why don't you give your statement to him, and head home I know you've been up for almost a week."

You nodded in understanding turning a way from that burning gaze and headed towards the door stopping only once at Stefano's call. "We should meet again soon, treasure. Our discussion on artistic perception was very enlightening."

You turned back enough to nod in understanding before continuing forward. You couldn't get your wrist to step tingling even after giving your statement to Joseph and you could feel that gaze tracking you everywhere.

Even when you get home and peeled off your uniformed. Only giving a brief thought to where your red scarf had disappeared to. You were more entranced by the clear ring of bruising around your wrist in the stark form of a hand print.

A/N:

Can I just say how much I hate that they spelled Stefano with an F instead of with a PH. Drives me insane.

I'm also a liar. I said there would be less setting for this one, and look at this a whole part one? What is this nonsense???

Once again Felix I hope you are doing amazing and if you want this edited at all to fit your preferences more just let me know. Just tell me if it's to much gore.

[autolovecraft]

It was Asaph's coffin, Birch, but you always did go too damned far!

Birch cautiously ascended with his tools and stood abreast of the narrow transom. His questioning grew more than medically tense, and his aching arms rested by a pause during which he sat on the bottom step of his grim device, Birch cautiously ascended with his tools and stood abreast of the narrow transom. He would have given much for a lantern or bit of candle; but lacking these, bungled semi-sightlessly as best he might. God, what a rage! When he perceived that the latch was hopelessly unyielding, at least in a city; and even Peck Valley would have shuddered a bit had it known the easy ethics of its mortuary artist in such debatable matters as the ownership of costly laying-out apparel invisible beneath the casket's lid, and the overhead ventilation funnel virtually none at all; though ever afterward he refused to do anything of importance on that fateful sixth day of the week.

I've seen sights before, but there was one thing too much here. At last the spring thaw came, and graves were laboriously prepared for the nine silent harvests of the grim reaper which waited in the tomb. There was evidently, however, no pursuer; for he was alone and alive when Armington, the lodge-keeper, answered his feeble clawing at the door. He would not, he found, have to pile another on his platform to make the proper height; for the unexpected tenacity of the easy-looking brickwork was surely a sardonic commentary on the vanity of mortal hopes, and the coffin niches on the sides and rear—which Birch seldom took the trouble to use—afforded no ascent to the space above the door.

For the long-neglected latch was obviously broken, leaving the careless undertaker trapped in the vault, a victim of his own oversight. In this funereal twilight he rattled the rusty handles, pushed at the iron panels, and wondered why the massive portal had grown so suddenly recalcitrant. Horrible pains, as of savage wounds, shot through his calves; and in his mind was a vortex of fright mixed with an unquenchable materialism that suggested splinters, loose nails, or some other attribute of a breaking wooden box. He could, he was sure, get out by midnight—though it is characteristic of him that this thought was untinged with eerie implications. And so the prisoner toiled in the twilight, heaving the unresponsive remnants of mortality with little ceremony as his miniature Tower of Babel rose course by course. That he was not perfectly sober, he subsequently admitted; though he had not then taken to the wholesale drinking by which he later tried to forget certain things. The thing must have happened at about three-thirty in the afternoon. Birch had locked himself for nine hours in the receiving tomb of Peck Valley Cemetery, escaping only by crude and disastrous mechanical means; but while this much was undoubtedly true, there were other and blacker things which the man used to whisper to me in his drunken delirium toward the last. Finally he decided to lay a base of three parallel with the wall, to place upon this two layers of two each, and upon these a single box to serve as the platform. The borders of the space were entirely of brick, and there seemed little doubt but that he could shortly chisel away enough to allow his body to pass. Steeled by old ordeals in dissecting rooms, the doctor entered and looked about, stifling the nausea of mind and body that everything in sight and smell induced. In this funereal twilight he rattled the rusty handles, pushed at the iron panels, and wondered why the massive portal had grown so suddenly recalcitrant.

As his hammer blows began to fall, the horse outside whinnied in a tone which may have been encouraging and to others may have been just fear, and it may have been fear mixed with a queer belated sort of remorse for bygone crudities. To him Birch had felt no compunction in assigning the carelessly made coffin which he now pushed out of the enlarged transom; but gathered his energies for a determined try. Only the coffins themselves remained as potential stepping-stones, and as he considered these he speculated on the best mode of transporting them. Davis died. Whether he had imagination enough to wish they were empty, is strongly to be doubted. The tower at length finished, and his body responding with that maddening slowness from which one suffers when chased by the phantoms of nightmare. Maddened by the sound, or by the stench which billowed forth even to the open air, the waiting horse gave a scream that was too frantic for a neigh, and plunged madly off through the night, the wagon rattling crazily behind it. The air had begun to be exceedingly unwholesome; but to this detail he paid no attention as he toiled, half by feeling, at the heavy and corroded metal of the latch. Tired and perspiring despite many rests, he descended to the floor and sat a while on the bottom step of his grim device, Birch cautiously ascended with his tools and stood abreast of the narrow transom. Maddened by the sound, or by the stench which billowed forth even to the open air, the waiting horse gave a scream that was too frantic for a neigh, and plunged madly off through the night, the wagon rattling crazily behind it. At any rate he kicked and squirmed frantically and automatically whilst his consciousness was almost eclipsed in a half-swoon. And so the prisoner toiled in the twilight, heaving the unresponsive remnants of mortality with little ceremony as his miniature Tower of Babel rose course by course. Birch set out for the tomb with horse and wagon to transfer the body of Matthew Fenner. And so the prisoner toiled in the twilight, heaving the unresponsive remnants of mortality with little ceremony as his miniature Tower of Babel rose course by course. It was generally stated that the affliction and shock were results of an unlucky slip whereby Birch had locked himself for nine hours in the receiving tomb of Peck Valley; and was a very calloused and primitive specimen even as such specimens go. Birch was glad to get to shelter as he unlocked the iron door and entered the side-hill vault. The afflicted man was fully conscious, but would say nothing of any consequence; merely muttering such things as Oh, my ankles! I'll never get the picture out of my head as long as I live. Birch still toiling. He had, indeed, made that coffin for Matthew Fenner; but had cast it aside at last as too awkward and flimsy, in a fit of curious sentimentality aroused by recalling how kindly and generous the little old man had been to him during his bankruptcy five years before. The light was dim, but Birch's sight was good, and he vaguely wished it would stop.

[noramoons]

better left unsaid.

pairing: kim seungmin x g/n reader

genre: academic rivals to lovers (?)

rating: T/13+

warnings: language, academic-related pressure, food mention, mentions of illness, brief mentions of parental issues

word count: 3.6k

summary: kim seungmin is a thorn in your side. being paired up with him for your midterm presentation is the absolute worst thing that could happen. isn’t it?

Admitting defeat is one thing.

You'd say you're typically gracious about it. It's not something you like doing, certainly, but you're usually pretty good about being able to tell when it's your time to bow out.

Admitting defeat to Kim Seungmin, however, is unthinkable.

It's impossible, actually. He's been a pain in your side for nearly an entire year now, and you'd thought you'd escaped him. Wasn't the whole point of going to a large university like this that you wouldn't see the same people all the time?

He'd been in a creative writing class with you your first year of college—your very first semester, that you'd gone into so happy and doe-eyed until you'd had the misfortune of sitting next to Kim Seungmin. Know-it-all didn't even begin to describe him—he made it a point to try to answer nearly every question your poor professor gave to the class (the questions you didn't beat him to, that is; you certainly weren’t going down without a fight). He'd make not-so-subtle comments about his grades to you, and you'd turn right around the next week and make the same comments about yours—piling on the extra credit assignments and additional references to get another point higher than him, just like he'd do to you with the next assignment. You did nothing but antagonize each other, even despite you constantly bringing up the fact that he was the one who had initially started this whole hellish competition—but it didn't matter. Both of you were determined to see the other shut up for once.

It was an absolutely brutal fifteen weeks—but the two of you both managed to end that semester with a 96, even after each of you went to the professor individually and begged for any more extra credit (she, of course, refused). You hadn't been able to settle your score with each other then, but the class was over, and you hoped to God you wouldn't have to see Seungmin in any of your classes again (or ever in your life, hopefully).

The winter break came and went, and you practically held your breath for the entirety of that first day back as you walked into each of your classes—but every single one of them had been beautifully, blissfully Seungmin-free. You'd been able to narrowly escape having any classes with him that spring, or even seeing him at all on campus. You'd nearly forgotten about your previous academic rival by the time the summer had arrived.

But now it's fall again—and you lock eyes with him the minute you walk in your first classroom.

Seungmin smiles at you from the first seat by the door, the closest to the professor's desk. "Running late this morning, are we?" he asks.

You force a smile across your lips as you try to distract yourself from the pit of despair opening up in your stomach. "There's still five minutes before class starts," you remind him coolly.

His smile only grows. "You know what they say. Early is on time, and on time is late."

You fight back against the feeling of your skin crawling as you pass him wordlessly to sit on the opposite side of the classroom. What was he doing in this class, anyway? It's just another required elective for you, a contemporary music history course that you had figured would be an easy elective to take.

Music history.

Seungmin's a music major, you remember absentmindedly.

Shit.

You're not going to put up with this again this semester. Last fall was hell, to put it lightly—and while you certainly didn't have to stoop to Seungmin's level back then, you certainly weren't going to just let him brag to you any way he wanted—and so the vicious cycle had kept the two of you ensnared. But you were determined not to let that happen again.

Your decision to sit as far away as possible from Kim Seungmin works fairly well, at first. You bite your tongue the first several weeks when he pointedly volunteers to answer any and all of the professor's questions, staring a hole through you from the other side of the room when you don't immediately try to one-up him (ah, if looks could kill...), you don't say a word when he loudly announces his perfect score on the first quiz of the course to his friends around him—in other words, you keep to yourself. And it works. For a while.

It's the fourth week of the course when your professor announces the topic for the midterm right before class ends for the day: a presentation on a contemporary music era of your choice.  Well, not just your choice—the midterm is a group project. And of course, the final nail in the coffin (since this class is clearly aiming to send you to an early grave) is that you can't pick your groupmates. Your professor will, and it will be at random. He'll announce the groups next week, presumably so you can all begin working on the material for the midterm as soon as possible.

You try to quell your nerves on the way home from class, taking a deep breath while you force yourself to unclench your jaw. It's not a huge class, but it isn't the smallest you've been in, either—considering the size, there's likely going to be at least four or five groups. The odds of you and Seungmin being in the same group are extraordinarily slim.

It isn't until the end of class Monday that Professor Kang finally gets around to announcing the groups. They will all be groups of three, he informs you, but since your class has an even number of students, there will be one group with just two classmates.

He goes down the list rather rapidly, and your heart begins to sink when you don't hear your name in the first several groups of three. By the time Professor Kang calls out your name, you realize, in a split-second moment of horrified realization, that you haven't heard his name yet, either.

"...and Kim Seungmin. That'll be our last group. You guys are all more than welcome to get your topics submitted early, but they're due for my approval by at least Monday. Alright! I hope you all have a good weekend," the professor says, turning back to his desk with a smile.

It's a nice sentiment, but you imagine you won't have a good weekend again for the rest of the semester. Is it too late to consider transferring schools?

You don't even make it down the hallway before there's a tap on your shoulder. "Funny seeing you again," he says, and Seungmin's voice is so close to your ear it nearly makes you jump. You spin around in the hall to face him, a fake smile neatly displayed across your cheeks. Your sparring matches with Seungmin have resumed—and by God, it's like muscle memory—how easily you're able to fall back into war with him.

"It is funny, isn't it?" you say, teeth clenched. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you asked the professor to make sure we ended up in the same group—especially considering that we're the only group of two."

He raises his hands above his head in mock self defense. "Hey, I wouldn't dare. Professor Kang said it was going to be randomized from the start—I wouldn't even think of interfering with that. It is interesting that it ended up like this though, isn't it?" he adds, laughing a little. "Do you believe in fate, Y/N?"

"Fate?" you repeat, letting out a scoff. "I don't really think that's any of your business. I have half a mind to go back in that classroom and ask Professor Kang if you really did beg him to be in the same group as me." You stick your bottom lip out in a show of false pity. "Kinda pathetic, don't you think?"

But Seungmin doesn't falter. "I told you I wouldn't do that. It really is just fate, or you and I are just both incredibly unlucky. And come on, I know you know what kind of student I am—you think I'd try to interfere with a professor's course materials? That's against the academic code of conduct, you know," he says, grinning once more.

You set your mouth into a firm line in an attempt to keep yourself from saying anything worse. "Okay," you say, finally—finally bowing to the unbelievably shitty situation you've found yourself in. "Okay. Fine. We're in the same group for this midterm, so let's just get it done as quickly as possible. Meet me in the library on Thursday on the 3rd floor, by the farthest window. 3:00 p.m., sharp. Don't be late."

Seungmin's grin widens. "I wouldn't dream of it."

~~~

Despite all of Seungmin's arrogance, you can at least count on him to be timely—he gets to the library even before you do on Thursday, passing you as you walk up the staircase with a syrupy sweet smile.

You want to throttle him.

"What were you thinking for the topic?" he asks, setting his backpack down on a chair beside the window as he moves to sit down.

You narrow your eyebrows at him as you move to sit across from him. "You're asking me? I'm surprised you haven't written the entire project already and aren't snapping at me for not participating."

Seungmin smirks. "No, I haven't done that. Have you thought about it yet?"

This is a game. It has to be. Kim Seungmin is not seriously asking for your opinion—that implies he actually cares about it. "I...I'm not sure. I was thinking the 1960s? Everything was so tumultuous politically at the time, and it showed pretty obviously in the music. There's loads of examples to choose from that we could form a presentation around."

Seungmin thinks about your suggestion for a brief moment before he nods. "Okay, sure. That sounds good to me."

You let out a short laugh before you can stop yourself. "I'm sorry...who are you?" You lean across the table to lay a hand against his forehead. "Do you have some kind of mind-altering fever?"

He swats your hand away, but there's still a grin on his face. What the hell? "No, I feel just fine. It's only the two of us in this group—there's no point in arguing about the topic when the presentation's only a month away. If the grades were individual, I'd just let you suffer, but they aren't. So this," he says, gesturing vaguely at the space between the two of you, "is the best way to assure we both get a good grade. There will be plenty of other smaller parts of the presentation we can threaten to kill each other about, but agreeing on the big picture is important. So I just figured I'd defer to you."

To say you're stunned is an understatement—but you know not to second-guess Seungmin, so you try to shake off the look of pure shock on your face as much as you can. "Well...okay," you finally say, laughing a little nervously. "As long as you're sure you're okay with that."

He nods. "I think it's a good choice. And you're right that we've got plenty to choose from—did you have anything that came to mind first?"

The hours practically fly by as you and Seungmin spend the rest of your library session brainstorming your midterm project. He knows nearly all the songs you bring up, of course—and he lends you an earbud so you can listen to a few of his suggestions, too. They aren't bad.

Your next two midterm sessions go almost just as well. Seungmin had been right—the two of you do bicker profusely about the minutia of the presentation, on who should say what, on who should get credit for which point about a song you both already knew, on whether "The Beatles" looks terrible in blue Brush Script font (it does)—but you're still able to move past all those after some mostly relaxed arguments (you were not budging on the font issue, and Seungmin threatened to toss your laptop down the library stairs). Both of you are extremely pleased with how far you've come along on the presentation (and how maybe not-so-impossible it is to be around each other. Or how nice Seungmin sometimes looks when he's focusing on his writings—and in truth, nice barely begins to cover it. But you have every intention of taking that observation to your grave).

Your third session, a week and a half before your midterm, does not go anything like the ones before it.

You know you're doomed the minute you try to sit up in bed that morning—try being the key word there. The immediate pounding at your skull causes a groan to pass your lips before you're even aware of it.

You push tentatively on your sinuses beside your nose, and the pressure there nearly makes you want to cry. Judging by the clammy feeling of your sweaty skin clinging to your pajamas, you probably have a fever of some sort, too. The realization settles in your chest like a weight.

You've got something—no doubt about it.

You let out another sigh of disappointment before rolling over to grab your phone. You text Seungmin that you won't be able to make it to the library today, and then silence your notifications. He doesn't need to know anything else. For now, you're just going to focus on the sudden heaviness pushing down on your eyelids and sleeping off whatever the hell this is that you've somehow contracted.

~~~

It's dark by the time you open your eyes again, but that may just be from the sudden thunderstorm you hear outside. You're awakened by the unceasing buzzing of your phone on your nightstand.

< 2 missed calls from K.S >

K.S

> hey.

> you know the midterm's in less than 2 weeks right

You roll your eyes. Why couldn't he just read between the lines?

y/n

< i do actually

< i'm rlly sick. haven't even left my room today. i'll catch up on monday

You're just about to lay your phone back down when you feel it buzz. Already? Doesn't he have anything better to do?

K.S

> and i'm sick of ur excuses

> i'll be by in 15

Your eyes widen slightly at that. He'll be “by?” By your apartment? He doesn't even know where you live—

No, you realize in horror, he does. He had dropped you back home after that very first brainstorming session for the midterm you two had.

Well, it's not like he'll be able to get in, you think, trying to calm yourself down.

And sure enough, you hear a knock at the door almost exactly fifteen minutes after you'd gotten his text. You let out an indignant sigh before picking up your phone again.

K.S

> i'm outside

y/n

< seungmin i feel like shit

< pls go back home, i don't want u getting sick too

K.S

> it's raining

y/n

< i literally couldn’t care less <3

K.S.

> is this ur spare key under the mat?

You shoot up in bed, but it's too late—you hear the lock clicking and the door turning by the time you've wrapped a blanket around yourself and dashed into the front hallway, ignoring the pounding at your temples as you do so.

Seungmin waves from the doorway. "I brought soup. Can I come in?"

You look him up and down. He's nearly drenched from standing outside, so you quickly run into the laundry room and hand him a towel before beckoning him further inside.

He thanks you for the towel, drying his hair after handing you the bag he says contains chicken noodle soup. You glance at the writing on the bag—it's from your favorite restaurant.

You look up at Seungmin. "I love this place."

"I know," he says, in that slightly irritating matter-of-fact tone. "You came to that second study session with a drink from there."

You narrow your eyes at him. "You remember that?"

He blinks at you slowly. "Of course."

Of course?

"Anyway," he continues, "you look like shit. You weren't kidding."

You make a face. "Thanks, Seungmin."

"You're welcome. What have you had to drink today?"

You look down at the soup bag, avoiding the frown developing across his lips. "Nothing."

You don't have to meet Seungmin's gaze to know the look of slight irritation on his face. But why? It's never been directed at you out of concern, if all things, before. "Have you had anything to eat, either?"

You don't answer.

He lets out a small hmph. "You must really be sick, then. I thought you'd be smarter than that."

"Seungmin, I really don't think—"

"Where are your cups?" he suddenly asks, and you look up to find him opening nearly every cabinet in your kitchen. What the hell is wrong with him? Is he sick too?

"Um...second cabinet from the fridge," you answer after an unusual beat of silence, and he pulls a tall pink cup out, filling it with water from the sink before gesturing with his head towards the couch in the living room.

"You up for eating?"

Up for it is an understatement—you're practically starving. So you follow his lead onto the couch, pulling out the soup container and the plastic utensils after taking a few sips of the water he wordlessly sets in front of you.

Seungmin stares at you from across the couch as you open up the soup container. "None of your friends wanted to come by and drop off food? Or anything?" His voice is unusually gentle—you almost don't recognize the tone in his words at all.

You gather up another spoonful of soup instead of answering. "No," you say finally, decidedly. "They didn't." Truth be told, you don't have that many friends to begin with—diving headfirst into your studies in the way that you have over the past year means you haven’t had time for much else.

Seungmin's eyes narrow, but he doesn't say another word until you finish your soup. The warmth of the food fills you from the inside out—you're practically more drowsy now than you were this morning. "I, um...I think I'd better go back to bed," you say, softly.

Seungmin nods. "Sure," he says, understanding. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I'll see you on Monday, alright?"

You grab his wrist as he starts to stand, overcome by a sudden emotion. You aren't sure if it's the fact that you've been alone all day, or if you're overwhelmed from whatever this is you've come down with, or if Seungmin's gesture has touched you more than you'd expected—either way, he stops moving the instant you touch him. "Seungmin," you start, not quite meeting his gaze. "Can you, um...can you stay?"

He stares at you for a moment, just long enough for you to form an apology at the tip of your tongue before he nods. "Yeah," he says quietly, nodding as he sits back down. "I'll stay."

You practically melt back into the couch beside him, your head gradually falling onto his shoulder as he raises a tentative hand to gently stroke the hair at the crown of your head.

It's not long before he feels you falling asleep, lying heavier against the side of his body, but Seungmin doesn't mind in the slightest. He's not sure how long you'll be asleep for—he's never been sick like this, not that he can remember, but he knows he wouldn't want to be alone if he felt this badly. And he's downright irritated that none of your friends bothered to come by—aren't they concerned? Is he the weird one for caring about whether or not you were okay, somehow?

But he has a sneaking suspicion in the back of his mind on why he's been so concerned. Seungmin knows why he felt his heart sink with disappointment when you told him you weren't going to be able to make it to the library today. He's enjoyed getting to work with you over the past few weeks, even when the two of you are bickering loud enough to cause the passing librarians to hiss a harsh shush as they walk past. He likes being around you.

He likes you. He's spent long enough denying it.

He was stupid last year—pushing himself to get all A's at his parents' urging and dragging you along with him, creating a stupid rivalry between the two of you just to fulfill what his parents wanted from him. You're smart—so smart, and not just academically. You keep up with him, outsmarting him more than half the time, if he's being perfectly honest—and it pushes him to be better, too. He wants to be better—to be better at talking to you when you aren't just intentionally teasing and annoying each other. To maybe keep talking to you even after the midterm is over, if that's something you would even consider.

Seungmin glances down at your head against his shoulder, at the soft curve of your chin tucked against him, at the gentle rise and fall of your even breaths as you sleep peacefully beside him.

Maybe he'll tell you what he's realized, how he really feels when you wake up. For now, though—he's satisfied with this, you lying safely and contently beside him.

Everything else can wait.

taglist: @petrichor-han @kangroo-chan @ot7lonelylover @lilacdreams-00 @mainexiii @awkwardnesshabitat @lotus-dly @elizabeth11moreno @nerdysl-t @seung-scrittore

©️ noramoons 2021-2022. do not translate or reupload my writing.

[fanficsfromyesteryear]

happy very belated birthday, enna!! i’m so so so behind on this, and i’m sorry for that! i’ve had quite the case of writer’s block lately, but i wanted to come out of my unofficial and definitely unannounced hiatus to whip something up for you! hope your day was extra special and sending lots of love to you 💕 also, this has a super cheesy ending, but i thought it was cute and i hope you like it too @druiigg​​

“What are those for?” María asked as she tied a knot into the neck of yet another balloon, her eyes trained on the container of Quaker Oats in Billy’s hand.

“It’s bad luck to have a party without them,” Billy answered, giving the carton a shake before setting it on the corner of your desk. He paused, ducking his head in embarrassment upon meeting María’s incredulous gaze, and shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “I know it’ll just be the three of us, but I’m not taking any chances. All the worst parties I’ve ever been to have been seriously lacking in the Quaker man department, and if he’s not here to watch over us tonight, there’s no telling what’ll happen.”

María shook her head, a smile gracing her red lips. “You’re so weird,” she playfully scolded, batting the balloon in her hands over to the Rat, who reacted just late enough that it bounced off the side of his head.

Weird superstitions aside, Billy was right about one thing—the party was to be a small affair. It had been an especially hard week of classes—with the arrival of Madam Gao at Kings, the teachers had been cracking down on homework and dishing out harsher punishments. Even now, on a Saturday, you were holed up in the library, working on an assignment. After such a grueling week, all you could hope for was a peaceful night in with your closest friends, and while Billy and María knew that schoolwork was the last thing you wanted to be doing on your birthday, your absence opened up the window of opportunity for them to set their plans into motion.

Initially, María, in true María fashion, had wanted to do something elaborate for your special day—throw a big party on the rooftop, complete with plenty of cake and some of Lex’s homemade fireworks—but Billy had been quick to rein her in. Not only would such a thing be nearly impossible under Gao’s suspiciously watchful eyes, but it didn’t sound like something you’d enjoy. You took pleasure in the smaller things in life—secret smiles passed between friends over inside jokes, sharing your favorite snacks on the rooftop to stargaze after a long day, or piling together on a twin-sized bed to watch old VHS tapes. A large celebration would’ve been overwhelming on a good day, much less with how drained you’d be when you eventually called it quits on your studies.

So, María relented, opting instead to focus her party-planning energy on decorating your dorm room. After an awry training exercise in Miss De Luca’s class late yesterday afternoon, your roommate had been sent to the infirmary and had been there ever since, meaning there was no one to complain about the streamers hanging from your ceiling fan and the top of your dresser and the balloons scattered across the floor save for Billy, who knew better.

The sound of a key entering the lock drew the duo’s attention to the door, and they were quick to spring into action. Billy grabbed the cupcake from your nightstand—a little gift he’d gotten Marcus to snag for him on his way back from his job at the comic book store—and shuffled through the pile of balloons to stand at the entrance to your room, María following suit. She gripped onto Billy’s upper arm, bouncing on the balls of her feet in anticipation, but Billy was feeling a different kind of anxious.

Now that the time had finally come for you to arrive, Billy was second-guessing himself. Staring at the cupcake in his hands, he wondered if they should’ve done more—should they have taken you out somewhere?—but as the door swung open and his gaze trailed up to see your tired face break out into a smile, his shoulders relaxed, expression mirroring yours.

Suddenly, María surged forward, wrapping you in a hug. “Happy birthday, amiga!” She took a step back, opening her arms for Billy to join, which he did, winding one arm around your back and holding the other up so as not to smush the dessert.

When the three of you at last broke apart, Billy pulled his cigarette lighter out of his jean pocket, igniting the single candle that stood proudly atop the cupcake before extending it to you. “Make a wish,” he said.

“What more could I wish for?” you asked, eyes darting between the two of them. “I’ve got everything I want right here.”

[therealvalkyrie]

exactly the spring

Pairing/setting: Ushijima Wakatoshi x Fem!Reader, college!AU

Summary: Reserved biology student Ushijima finds himself falling in love when you, an adorably disorganized art student, wander into the greenhouse.

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: fluff, kissing

AN: Hi!! So, the inspiration for this one sprang from the beautiful, sexi brain of Emme ( @doinmybesthere ) way back in MARCH ahem anyway, it's done! I hope it's just as soft and intimate as you envisioned<33 Also, big shoutout to my beautiful friends Arobi ( @daqueenobooty ) and Cee ( @spacelabrathor ) for being wonderful betas and giving me such kind comments:) I hope you enjoy, and as always don't be shy about leaving comments or coming to chat! Be kind to yourselves and others.  ~valkyrie

p.s. check out this amazing art that @/54prowl made of plant boy ushi!! :D

Plants don’t talk back, Ushijima learned as a toddler. He’d babble to them in nonsensical phrases as his mother worked in the garden, and they’d only sway in the wind and listen, waxy under his chubby fingers.

A volleyball doesn’t talk back, either, not even through its bounces and echoes on hands and hard surfaces. It doesn’t listen as easily as plants, but can be herded and shaped like putty into a winning thing if you touch it right. This, Ushijima learned at his father’s hand and carried with him through childhood and adolescence.

The joy and puzzlement of you is that you do both. You listen so intently and openly with your steady eyes and soft body as the words pour out of him. And then, you reply. With your clear voice and new perspective, you offer something new. You offer companionship.

It was the second week of spring semester that you wandered into the greenhouse, eyes lit by the sun and sketchbook under one arm. Ushijima was repotting a large fern, dirt up to his elbows as he kneeled on the floor. He barely gave you a second glance, preoccupied with nestling the plant’s root system comfortably.

You settled a short distance away, crossing your legs to sit on the tile floor in front of an orange tree to sketch its still-closed flower buds with charcoal pencils. He kept working as you did, the sun sliding across glass, shadows shifting into the early evening of winter. When the sun was threatening to set over the city skyline — even with the greenhouse where it sits on the roof of the biology building — he turned to tell you he was closing up, only to find you gone. In your place, sitting on the wooden table that held newly planted basil and sage, was a drawing.

It was a single branch, detailed in shades of charcoal down to the last dewdrop. At the bottom, looping handwriting scrawled, “thank you for the peace.”

That night, he tacked it up above his desk in his dorm next to the postcard from Tendō and hoped you’d come back.

And you do, a couple of days later, on a Saturday. He looks up from where he’s filling in the logbook, this time, catching your gaze and holding it for a moment before you break away to survey the room. Today, he thinks you looked breathtaking. You’re wearing a long, flowing skirt and a sweater that makes him want to feel how soft it is, and how soft you are in it, and by the time his brain catches up with his thoughts, he’s been staring too long and your eyes have wandered back to him. It’s raining, today — it never really snows in this city, he’s learned — and shadowy droplets play across your face as they drip down the greenhouse’s arched glass ceiling, highlighting the curve of your cheekbone and making your eyes glow softly.

He clears his throat and looks back to the thick spiral-bound book on the table before him. Sometimes, when he meets people for the first time, he knows he can come across as intimidating. That worked out for him in high school and on the volleyball court, but in his adulthood, it’s been more of a hindrance than a help. It makes it… difficult to make friends here, where he doesn’t already know anyone.

And the last thing he wants is to scare you away. The last thing he wants is to break the peace you’ve apparently found here.

Which is why he barely dares to breathe when he looks up to find you approaching him where he’s perched on a sturdy wooden stool.

“Hi,” you smile and lilt, and god if it isn’t the most beautiful word Ushijima’s ever heard, if it isn’t the prettiest smile he’s seen.

He doesn’t respond, doesn’t want to scare you away.

“Uhm,” you start again, when the silence makes it clear he’s waiting for you to speak, “I have an art assignment,” you start digging around in your shoulder bag as you speak, “to draw a, um, what’s it called?”

“I don’t know.”

You pause in your rifling and pin him with such a sunny smile it makes his knee start bouncing. And you laugh, too, which officially replaces your “hi” as the most beautiful sound in the world.

“Ha, you’re funny,” you resume digging, “it was um, pretty leafy and... tropical, I think? Oh! Here.” Triumphantly, you produce a wrinkled paper from your bag. It’s the first imperfect thing Ushijima’s found out about you, that you’re shit at keeping your belongings organized, and he files it away for later reference. You hold the paper in front of your face and squint slightly to read in the shifting light. “Canna indica.”

Canna indica, native to tropical climates, notable as a minor food crop for South American Native populations for thousands of years.

“And I was told that you have it, here, in the greenhouse.”

Ushijima nods and finds himself relieved that this is what you’re asking him. Plants, he can do.

“We do. Would you like me to show you?”

“Yes, please,” you also sound relieved, like he’s provided the solution to every problem you’ve ever had.

He unfolds himself from the stool, setting down his pen as he goes. You take a step back and look up at him mildly, as though you hadn’t realized quite how huge he is.

“This way,” he indicates, leading you deeper into the maze that is the biology department’s greenhouse. The winding path back to the tropical room gives him a moment to sink back into the earthy peace of being here, even if now there’s someone sharing that peace.

The temperature change from the warm main greenhouse to the balmy tropical room prompts Ushijima to shed his flannel outer layer, hanging it on the nail hammered by the door while you step in behind him.

“Whew,” you exhale, shrugging off your soft cardigan as well, “it’s hot in here.”

Ushijima hums in agreement and tries not to look too hard at the patch of skin revealed by your cropped tank top. Canna indica isn’t too far into the room, so he just gently moves past draping leaves and ceramic pots.

“Here,” he stops, holding back leaves for you. He stops breathing again when you duck under his arm and end up so close in the narrow aisle that he can smell your shampoo. The moment passes, and he can breathe again when you breeze past him and squat down to peer at the bright, waxy red leaves of your subject.

“Beautiful,” you murmur, and he silently agrees.

You’re leaning so close to the plant he’s afraid you might topple over when you make a noise of realization and sit back on your butt to rifle through your bag once again. Ushijima knows he should probably leave you to it, but he’s glad he waited just an extra minute when you pull out a pair of glasses and pop them on your face. Adorably.

“That’s better.” You’re looking back at canna indica, now, at a normal distance.

He’s figured you’ve forgotten he’s there when you start to pull out pastels from your seemingly bottomless bag, so he turns to leave you.

A soft, “hey,” calls him back to you, however, and he’s met by your face glowing eerily in the shifting rain-light. “Thank you for your help.”

“You’re welcome.”

When he locks up that afternoon, he finds another charcoal drawing waiting for him on the table near the door, this time of his favorite agapanthus africanus. No note, this time, but he attaches all the sounds he heard from you today in its place. He also finds your cardigan forgotten next to where you were sitting and carefully folds it for when you come back.

The drawing joins the orange branch on his wall-- an odd starter garden, he thinks, but all the more precious because it came from you.

The next time he sees you isn’t in the greenhouse, but instead at a cafe a couple of blocks away, two weeks later. He’s walking past, gym bag slung over his shoulder, when he hears your laugh ring out across the outdoor seating area. His eyes find you, head tipped back in sending peals of mirth into the lively spring air. It’s the first truly warm day of the season, though you and your companion are the only patrons sitting outside, and the sun catches on your glasses sat atop your head.

Your friend says something apparently hilarious, because your giggles redouble, and an honest-to-god snort pushes out of your nose. Ushijima catalogues it in his ever-growing list of sounds you make, and pauses at the crosswalk, halfway turned back to keep one eye on you and one on the light. If you were alone, he might’ve approached you and told you that he still has your sweater in the greenhouse, waiting on a shelf between succulents, but he doesn’t want to interrupt your— date?

He isn’t sure, but the person sat there with you seems like someone you might date. Clearly also an art student, judging by the carefully disheveled blue hair and combat boots. Are you the type to date someone with blue hair? Unlikely, he decides. You seem too… bright. Too floaty to be so concerned with looking like you don’t care how you look.

Ushijima’s still debating whether you find blue hair attractive when the crosswalk light begins its countdown and he starts across the street. And he almost makes it all the way across, too, when a voice calls—

“Wait! Hey!”

He turns partially because it sounds urgent enough that it might be an emergency, and his grandmother would roll in her grave if he remained a bystander to some horrific accident. But it’s you, standing up from your seat and waving him back over. He glances at the crosswalk countdown, which lights up red as it ticks from four to three, then turns and jogs back towards you, waving a hand apologetically to the cars waiting at the light. You meet him at the metal fence around the cafe seating area, and now that you’re standing, he can see you’re wearing a yellow sundress that cuts off at your calves and drapes over your hips like the fabric was spun from pure light.

“Hello.” Ushijima talks first this time because if he doesn’t refocus his brain on something else he knows he won’t be able to stop staring.

“Hi! Sorry about that, uh, and I’m sure you have places to be, but, um, did I leave my cardigan at the greenhouse? I can’t find it, and I know I have a tendency to forget things, so,” you finish with a laugh, one hand fiddling with the rings on the other.

“Yes, you did. I put it on a shelf in case you came back.”

“Oh! That’s great!” You sound relieved, and Ushijima’s suddenly very grateful he didn’t take it down to the bio department’s lost and found like they’re technically supposed to. “Is there maybe a time I can come pick it up? When you’ll be there?”

“I’ll be there all day tomorrow, opening at nine.” 

He can’t tell if he sounds a little too eager, and he’s about to soften his meaning by telling you that they’re open today, too, and anyone can hand you a sweater, but you’re already smiling big and sunny and telling him,

“I’ll see you at nine, then. Do you drink coffee?”

He doesn’t; his coaches have always told him that caffeine can only harm his athletic performance.

“Yes, I do.”

“Then I’ll see you at nine, with coffee.”

Ushijima says goodbye and turns to wait at the crosswalk again while you swirl your way back to your seat and pick up your conversation with your friend. He can feel two pairs of eyes on him as he crosses the street, red numbers blinking down from ten, and can’t help but turn to look back as he steps onto the opposite sidewalk. Where your friend tactfully looks down into their cup of tea, you catch his eye with yours and wave. He lifts his hand halfway in a goodbye before an eighteen-wheeler stops at the intersection and blocks you from him.

Ushijima’s normal work attire is typical of an average agricultural biology student accustomed to being up to their elbows in dirt every day: practical cargo shorts, dirt-stained but sturdy sneakers, a “plant dad” t-shirt (a gift from Tendō when they’d said their goodbyes and gone away to college), and a soft cotton flannel. He’s usually satisfied with this for his shift at the greenhouse, expecting to be mud-covered at least up to his wrists by the end of the day.

But today… Today, he pauses in the dorm bathroom to scrub his face raw, and he clips and shapes his nails like his mother used to do for him every Saturday. He normally only does it before tournaments, now, and it calms his nerves to feel prepared for a Big Event, even if that event is only handing you your gently pilled cashmere cardigan and receiving a coffee he won’t drink in return.

The air that morning is heady with spring, earthy and alive, reminding Ushijima of lying beneath the hedge along his mother’s garden to pass notes to the girl next door. He was seven and she was nine, so naturally she knew everything he didn’t. She knew about the planets and why worms live in dirt and how to spell the word “catastrophe,” and Ushijima would’ve bet his whole weekly allowance that she was the coolest person in the world, if he knew what betting was. (She did, and once bet him half an ice cream sandwich that he couldn’t climb the oak tree in his backyard all the way to the top. He did, and then twisted his ankle on the way down, and she brought him an ice cream sandwich every day for a week as an apology.) She was all shiny, long black hair and dark eyes and fast words, nothing like the spring blooming around him.

You, on the other hand, are exactly the spring.

He stops at his favorite pastry place on the way to work to pick up two fresh cream donuts. The line is just dwindling from the height of the morning rush, so he manages to make it to the biology building just five minutes before he normally does.

Morning sun sends rainbows through the automatic misting spray as Ushijima unlocks the greenhouse door, letting a burst of humidity out into the rest of the building. The spiral-bound log book is there on the desk, a thick parchment bookmark sticking out from where whoever closed last night marked the page. 

Ushijima places his backpack and pastry bag on the desk and reaches to hang his key on its hook just when there’s a knock on the door.

“I know I’m early,” you start, edging your way into the room with a paper coffee cup in each hand. “But I saw it was already open, so...”

Ushijima smiles despite himself. In their second year Oikawa Tooru had told him that his smiles can be unnerving, but he can’t help it right now. You look so lovely today, in jeans and a silky tank top, with a certain morning tenderness in the way you hold yourself.

“It’s okay, come in. I just need to check the temperature controls and I’ll be done opening.”

“Sounds good,” you reply, smiling back.

As he makes his way to the temp controls on the Southern wall, you perch on the wooden stool and set down the coffee.

With his back turned to you for a moment, you allow yourself to slouch, planting two hands on the table and stretching your shoulders with a sigh. It’s earlier than you normally get out of bed, let alone actually leave your apartment, and you can already feel a quiet exhaustion setting into your bones.

But this is worth it, you remind yourself. Worth it to talk to the beautiful boy with broad shoulders and gentle hands.

He’d been unexpected. That first day in the greenhouse, you’d sat down with the intention to calm down from a tedious school day and nothing more. Your hands had moved of their own volition on that second drawing of the orange branch, scribbling out a hasty message that made your cheeks burn. But he was so present that day, in the corner of your eye but staying respectfully out of your space. And you’re not blind -- you saw the muscles under his shirt as he lifted an entire small tree in its pot. You saw the startling shade of green his eyes took on in the sun. You saw it all, and it drew you back, and now you’re here.

When he joins you back at the table, leaning back against it to face you, you stick out your hand and offer your name.

He looks at it for a moment, then back at you.

“I just, uh, realized we never properly introduced ourselves,” you explain, with a hesitant smile.

He smiles again and your heart thuds, then his big hand engulfs yours and he shakes it firmly.

“Wakatoshi. It’s nice to meet you.”

You learn in the following weeks of coming to the greenhouse that Wakatoshi doesn’t like coffee. But he does like tea and donuts, so that’s what you bring him on the mornings you can find it in you to wake up before nine. You sit with him in the greenhouse, talking and listening as he records data and waters plants and sits next to you on the quilt you’ve fallen into the habit of bringing. The occasional professor or student comes through, and you get to watch Wakatoshi show off his brains when he leaves you to help them.

There are several things you learn about him over those weeks. Number one: he never minces words. Two: he prefers grapefruit chapstick over anything else. And three: he kisses like it’s his last day on Earth.

You discover number three late one night when you decide to drop by after class, shooting him a text to make sure he’s still there. Today he’s closing instead of opening, and you missed spending your morning with him.

The city lights cast a different kind of glow at this time of night. They add a distance to everything that’s palpable as you drop your bag by the door.

“Toshi, are you here-- oh, hi.” You turn the corner to find him closing the door to the supply closet.

His cheekbones are highlighted briefly by a billboard outside flashing red.

“You should get some sleep.”

“I’m not tired. And I wanted to see you.”

“You wanted to see me?”

He takes a step towards you and you have to tilt your head back slightly to keep your eyes on his. They’re leaf green and unreadable.

“Yeah, uh,” you wet your lips with your tongue, “is that okay?”

“Yes.” He pauses for a long time, then, watching you carefully in the neon glow of the exit sign. His hand shakes as it reaches up to push your glasses from your face onto your head.

Without them, he looks fuzzy and soft around the edges.

He says, “Can I kiss you?” and it feels like there’s a bird trapped in your ribcage.

“Yes. Kiss me.”

Wakatoshi kisses nothing like you expected, all tongues and teeth and heavy fingers in the dip of your waist. He growls when you gasp and mewl against him, sucking on your lower lip as your hands find purchase in his shirt. He kisses you so absolutely breathless that you think you might pass out. Your knees buckle and you pull away, gasping with your eyes closed for a moment until you come back to yourself.

“Are you alright, little one?”

The endearment makes your cheeks flush with heat and your eyes snap open.

“Yes, I’m alright. Please do it again.”

And so he does it again, and again, and again until you find yourself bringing him home with you on the last bus that goes towards your neighborhood. He’s standing in the aisle, one hand wrapped around a pole and the other wound around you, who’s standing in front of him. He keeps you steady as the bus rounds a corner.

That night, you bring the peace of the greenhouse into your home, and the only thing you find yourself wishing for is that it never leaves.

[fatefulfaerie]

Could I have a tiny little sequel to Written in the Stars? It's my fav fic of yours! 🥰

Thank you!!

Sequel to Written In The Stars

This was not the knight he had assigned to his daughter a hundred years prior.

In a purely physical and technical sense, of course it was. The same hair, the same build, the same steadfast courage and resolve. Yet, this Link seemed to be a slate wiped clean, blue eyes emoting curiosity and intrigue as the King detailed Hyrule's past. Nothing seemed to ring a bell, and the innocent blue stare couldn't help but make the King feel for his daughter. A hundred years and all her father could give her was another soldier, another weapon. And even worse, this young man bared painful resemblance to the one she once fell in love with. Hylia, it was the young man she once fell in love with. Yet her name inspired nothing special in his blue eyes.

Link would break her heart, the King feared as he dissipated to allow the amnesia-ridden hero to continue on his journey.

The next time he saw Link was once all had been set right, him and Zelda at the base of Hyrule Castle walking away from all they had ever known, and into a future Zelda only seemed sad about. The King had never felt more powerless.

The silence between two people he knew were once lovers eroded at his not-beating heart. He found he could not move on like the champions until this was resolved, this guilt, this knowledge. Yet was there too much damage done? Was Zelda's happiness lost?

Zelda stopped in her tracks, and Link noticed after only a couple steps that she was no longer matching his stride. Rising petals and soft gales lifted his hair gently as he quietly looked at her with concern.

"Your Highness?" Link asked. "Is there something wrong?"

Zelda hesitated, her eyes tremulous and uncertain as she silently begged Link to know without her saying.

"I asked the wrong question before," she clarified. "I asked if you remember me."

Link nodded.

"And I do," he said, far more forward with his words than he ever was.

Zelda clutched her elbow and looked down in shame. Obviously he didn't, at least not to the extent she wanted, the moment in the Library, the dance at the ball, their kiss at the spring, their confessions of love, the note Link wrote Zelda about there one day being a time for them.

"Do you remember us?" Zelda braved, and indeed her heart broke when she looked up to see Link not say an immediate response in the affirmative. He noticeably flushed, and looked absolutely bewildered.

"There..." Link tried to breathe. "There was an us?"

Zelda closed and opened her eyes with a sharp sigh, wishing to go back just a few minutes and tell herself not to bring it up. She should have known better. If he felt anything, he would have made it clear from the first moments of Hyrule being free from Calamity Ganon. Zelda's smile was soft and yet pained. She nodded.

"It is a different circumstance now, it seems," she said, summoning every last bit of formality she had left in her blood and walking forward and past Link as if the entire conversation had never happened.

"Onto Kakariko, correct?" she asked, but Link grabbed her wrist as she passed.

"What are you doing?" She asked with a furrowed brow and a judgemental look at their connection. She tried to break free until she was enthralled by the sincerity in Link's eyes.

"Zelda," he said timidly, as if he wasn't sure he could. "Zelda," he said again with a smile, as if he loved saying it. Her eyes locked into his and she listened.

"I don't remember anything between us," he started, "but Zelda you have no idea how much I wanted to read it in between the lines."

Zelda tried to breathe. Did she just hear that right?

"I can't put a finger on the love I feel for you," Link continued. "I can't pinpoint when it started to a certain moment, a certain century, or even a certain millennium. All I know is that right here, right now, I love you. And I don't want you mistaking my uncertainty over the past as a lack of regard for you."

Zelda found herself stunned as Link let her wrist go, her arm drifting down to her side. Link thought she might object to his forwardness when she took his cheeks hostage and hurled her lips into his. Link closed his eyes to relish in the moment, and his smile made the exchange appropriately imperfect. She smiled too, and her laugh interrupted the kiss. She didn't care. They had what seemed like an eternity of freedom to express their love.

Link spun her around and let her collapse into a hug. He held the back of her head gently and cried tears of relief as the last of the turquoise flames disappeared from the highest spire of Hyrule Castle.

[seasonsofeverlark]

No Turning Back

Author: @always-andshewrites​

Prompt: Katniss and Peeta are meant to be together. Their whole friend group is sure of it. But they seem oblivious to each other’s (and their own) feelings. So their friends have decided to take matters into their own hands. They set up a vacation weekend (Spring Break/Memorial Day/your choice) and have picked a house where there will only be one bed left for the two of them to share. Will Peeta and Katniss finally figure things out? [submitted by @jedimandy​]

Rating: M / E (eventually)

Summary: The prompt says it all! ______________

Katniss had been looking forward to this weekend for months. Three and a half days locked away with her five closest friends. She couldn’t wait to be surrounded by the wilderness, to inhale the piney scent of the fresh air, and to have what would hopefully be a relaxing Memorial Day weekend at Annie’s uncle’s lake house.

She had finally arrived, no thanks to the miserable two-hour drive in her beat-up, air-condition-less Toyota Corolla. The second she stepped inside, she was more than thankful the lake house came fully stocked (meaning all she had to do was pack her clothes), but most of all, that it had fully functioning central air.

It hadn’t surprised Katniss in the least when Annie was assigning their bedrooms, that she was somehow paired with Peeta. Logically, it made the most sense. Annie would room with Finnick, her boyfriend since‒well, actually, Katniss couldn’t recall a time in which Annie and Finnick weren’t a couple. Then there was Gale and Jo. They would share a room, since, like Annie and Finnick, they were also an “item.” That left her and Peeta, and only one remaining room. In their previous trips to the lake, Katniss and Peeta always had their own room, but apparently, this year one of the rooms was undergoing renovations, leaving only one spare guest room.

Katniss wasn’t sure why sharing a room‒or was it the bed‒that seemed to be bothering her so much this time; it wasn’t as if she’d never shared a bed with Peeta before. Though they weren’t a couple, and never had been, they were best friends. They hit it off from the very first moment they met. She couldn’t count how many times she’d thanked Gale for forcing her to go to the beach that day.

“You know, I can always sleep on the couch if it–it um…makes you uncomfortable.”

Peeta’s voice broke her from the trance she was in‒thinking about that day on the beach as she mindlessly unloaded her clothes from her suitcase and tossed them into the drawers.

“Don’t be silly, Peeta; it’s fine. Your snoring doesn’t bother me anymore,” Katniss joked, trying to keep the mood light.

Peeta snuck up from behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist before planting a kiss on her cheek. For some reason, this caused goose pimples to form there, in the exact spot where Peeta’s lips had grazed her skin, all the way down her neck, along with a strange tingling-warm sensation throughout her insides.

“I don’t snore,” Peeta pretended to be offended, backing away. “It’s just…I don’t know, you seemed kind of tense when Annie paired us up. Anyway, just know it’s an open-ended offer. My feelings won’t be hurt if you change your mind.” Peeta tried to assure her.

“Shut up,” Katniss retorted playfully, pushing him away. “It’s fine, Peeta. I was shocked, is all,” Katniss defended herself, though even she didn’t believe her own words.

Since Katniss and Peeta were the last to arrive at the lake house, they weren’t privy to Annie, Finnick, and Jo’s deception. While Gale was scouting the woods, Jo cornered Finnick and Annie with a plan of her own. (A few hours earlier)

“Okay, who else is fed up with Cinnamon Buns and Brainless? They’re obviously sickeningly in love with each other…have been for God-knows-how-long. Everyone sees it except for them, so we’ve have to force them to admit it to themselves.”

Annie squealed, jumping up and down and clapping giddily like an excited little girl. “Oh! I’m so in, what were you thinking?”

“Well, hmmm,” Jo began, pressing a finger to her chin in thought. She had to think, and quickly, before Gale returned. He wouldn’t approve of their scheming against his two closest friends, and if he found out, he would definitely sell them out.

“Aha! I got it!” Jo beamed, her eyes lighting up with an idea.

Finnick simply stood back, observing the girls with amusement.

“First, we need to eliminate one of the rooms. Force them into sharing a room‒and a bed.” Jo waggled her brows for effect. “Any ideas?”

Annie’s brows furrowed in concentration as she thought of how she and Jo could pull this off. Then her eyes widened, lit up like a Christmas tree as the grin stretched across her face.

“We’ll block the room off. Say my uncle is doing renovations or something and he told me the only stipulation for us spending the weekend here was the one room is off limits.”

“Okay, but how do you suppose we block the room off?”

Finnick, who had been listening intently to the scheming girls had the perfect thing in his bag. And, of course he would, for he wasn’t known as an immature prankster for nothing.

“You girls just leave that to me.” Finnick grinned mischievously, pulling out a roll of yellow “KEEP OUT” tape from his pack.

X-X-X

Throughout the evening, Jo and Annie occasionally traded devious grins when no one was looking. Their first night was coming to a close‒everyone was exhausted from the drive down, coupled with the mind-numbing heat and the fact that it was almost midnight.

“I think I’m going to call it a night. This face doesn’t achieve perfection on its own; I need my beauty sleep,” Finnick said with a yawn. Annie shoved his head playfully, pushing him into the sofa.

“Shut up, Odair,” Katniss snarked as she and Peeta watched their friends exit the room. First Finnick and Annie, then Gale and Jo, disappearing down the hallway.

“You coming?” Katniss locked eyes with Peeta as she stood up to fall in line with her friends.

“I think I’m going to tackle the dishes. I wanted to make breakfast in the morning, and I’d rather start the day with a clean kitchen.” Peeta told her.

  “Oh, okay. Um…” Katniss faltered, feeling disappointed. “I’ll help you then,” she offered.

“Katniss, um, that’s sweet but no‒” Peeta said softly. “You can barely hold your eyes open, and it’s really not that much. Just everyone’s glasses and a few bowls. Go get comfy, and I’ll meet you in there.” Peeta could tell that Katniss wasn’t going to let this go. “Look, it’ll take me less than ten minutes, but if you stay in here with me, we’ll end up talking and it’ll take twice as long.”

Katniss frowned, her brows drawing together. She wanted to object, but she knew Peeta was right. “Fine,” she stated stubbornly. “But if you’re not there in ten minutes, I’m coming to find you,” she playfully threatened her best friend.

“Deal,” Peeta said.

Katniss made her way to the room she’d be sharing with Peeta, grabbed her nightclothes and toothbrush, then opened the door to the adjoining bathroom.

I sure am glad it was the other room and not this one that’s getting renovated, Katniss thought optimistically as she made her way into the private full bathroom attached to her room. She picked up her nightclothes and slipped into the dark, hunter green tank top. Then, as she climbed into the orange-like-the-sunset, with light, paler orange polka dotted pair of boxer shorts she’d once stolen from Peeta, a smile crept upon her lips.

As she brushed her teeth, her eyes locked with her reflection.

“This is no different than any of the other hundred times Peeta and I have slept in the same bed,” Katniss felt silly defending herself‒to herself. Then, she could have sworn that her reflection crossed its arms and raised a condescending brow at her, so she closed her eyes tightly and shook her head back and forth. “Man, I must have drunk more than I thought,” she told herself.

When she was finished in the bathroom, she headed back into the room. She was eager to climb into the feather-light, queen-sized bed and slip under the goose down comforter and fall asleep in Peeta’s arms. For some reason, the nightmares never came when he was next to her.

So, that’s what she did. She pulled the covers back, toed her socks off, and waited for Peeta to join her.

And it wasn’t long. Two, three, maybe four minutes later, Katniss heard Peeta’s heavy footfalls entering the room. He spent less than ten minutes in the bathroom before he slid in next to her, smelling like…Peeta. She inhaled slowly and savored his musky scent of cinnamon and dill. Then, as if it was second nature, Peeta immediately pulled Katniss into his arms, close, close, closer to his body, not fully satisfied until Katniss’s back was pressed against his chest.

“Sweet dreams, Kitty,” Peeta whispered into her ear as she fell into a deep slumber.

Half-asleep, and moments from losing consciousness, the corners of Katniss’s lips curved up at the nickname. And then, just like that, she was out.

X-X-X

Katniss remembered waking up sometime in the middle of the night to see Peeta sleeping soundly. She was still cradled in his arms, their faces only inches apart. She was afraid to move, as she did not want to disturb him‒he just looked too peaceful. She was more than happy lying there, staring‒studying his features, something she rarely had the chance to do during her waking hours.

He really is a beautiful man, Katniss thought to herself as she mentally traced his perfectly symmetrical features.

And then: ‘Wow, I never realized how long and blond his eyelashes are…I wonder how they don’t get tangled when he blinks.’

That was the last thought Katniss had before she fell back asleep. She awoke some time later to the succulent aroma of bacon and the sound of grease sizzling in the frying pan‒in addition to an empty bed. She rushed into the bathroom, brushed her teeth and got dressed, then hurried to the kitchen.

“Good morning, sleepy head!” Peeta called out, grinning from ear to ear. Katniss surveyed the room to see that everyone else was already up. 

“So, us girls are going into town today. Gonna have a girls day while the boys stay home and do housework,” Jo mumbled with a mouthful of eggs.

“And, what exactly does that mean?” Katniss questioned with a raise of her brow. She wasn’t sure she liked the sound of where this was going.

Annie politely covered her mouth with her hand and giggled. “The boys said they have a surprise for us tonight, so I decided we’re going shopping.”

Katniss rolled her eyes. She hated shopping. But she knew it was pointless arguing with Annie.

Once breakfast was over, everyone pitched in to help Peeta get the kitchen back in order. Then the boys kicked the girls out, demanding they not return until at least six o’clock.

X-X-X

“Tell me Katniss, how was snuggling in bed with Cinnamon Buns all night? I’m telling you, girl, if Gale wasn’t so talented with that thing he does with his tongue—” Annie shoved Jo, knowing Katniss could only tolerate so much teasing before she snapped.

“Don’t listen to her, Kat; I’m sure Peeta was a perfect gentleman.” Katniss rolled her eyes at Annie’s retort, although she was always grateful for her friends support.

“Anyway, Brainless,” Jo went on. “Cinnamon Buns is just going to love your swimsuit.” Jo chuckled.

“Oh, you’re out of your bloody mind if you think I’m actually going to wear this thing. I don’t get it, though; why does something with less fabric cost more than the one with more?”

“Because sexy ain’t cheap!” Katniss had to laugh at Jo’s statement. She supposed there was some truth to it.

The girls went back and forth with their chatter until they got back to the cabin, right at six o’clock. 

“We’re out back!” They heard Gale call out as soon as they walked inside. The cabin, which was filled with the scent of fresh bread, was spotless. Katniss didn’t actually think they would do anything but drink beer and maybe go fishing. They followed the sound of Gale’s voice, walking through the cabin and out the back door to see the boys‒each with a beer in hand on the patio by the grill. 

“Kiss the chef? You’re such a weirdo,” Jo said when she saw Finnick in his ‘Kiss the Chef’ apron. But when he turned around to grab the plate for the steaks, Jo almost fell on the ground from laughing so hard when she got a full view of Finnick’s backside. The only thing underneath his apron was a skimpy, navy blue speedo. 

“Oh, come on. I’m bringin’ sexy back!” Finnick waggled his brows suggestively, then twirled Annie into his arms before pressing his lips to hers.

“I’m sorry, baby, but I have to agree with Jo. You’re such a dork!” Annie giggled, returning Finnick’s affection.

They had dinner outside, down at the Men’s Den, which was a small, screened-in porch-like structure at the end of a dock that floated on water. Dinner was steak, fried squash and zucchini, and baked potatoes, all cooked on the grill, in addition to Peeta’s famous yeast rolls.

After dinner, Annie handed out her and Finnick’s famous, homemade drinks. Fanny-rita’s, they called them.

Katniss began feeling the effects after her third drink. Her body slowly began to relax, and for some reason, every time she looked at Peeta she got this warm and fuzzy feeling inside. The feeling reminded her of happiness.

“Let’s go swimming!” Jo shouted from her position, straddled on Gale’s lap, cowgirl style.

“Let’s do it,” Gale mumbled in agreement.

“Oh yeah!” Annie squealed. “We forgot to show the boys what we got today!” Annie said, jumping up and flinging her sun dress off to reveal a cute two-piece bikini. Finnick pulled her to him and groaned.

“Oh baby, that is so sexy! And it’s definitely coming off…and soon.”

Peeta groaned at Annie and Finnick’s tongue-aerobics and said, “Gross, you guys‒get a room!” 

Jo soon followed suit and stripped down to her two-piece bathing suit that Katniss wondered how it even stayed on. It barely came with enough fabric to cover her nipples.

“Okay, your turn, Brainless.” Jo called out. Katniss crossed her arms and shook her head.

With narrowed eyes, furrowed brows, Jo glared at Katniss until she finally conceded.

“Okay, if anyone laughs at me, I swear I’ll skewer you with an arrow in your sleep!” Katniss threatened her friends. 

Peeta gave her a soft smile. “No one’s going to laugh at you,” he promised her.

Katniss removed her tank top first; that seemed the easiest thing to do. Then she slowly unknotted the tie of her wraparound skirt to reveal a modest, simple green halter-like top, and the bottoms looked like a pair of boy shorts. Jo was adamant she buy a bikini for tonight, and since Katniss lost a bet, she chose a bathing suit with the most fabric available.

Katniss was averting her eyes from everyone, trying to avoid their stares. But had she been privy to where her friends’ attention was directed at, she would have seen everyone’s eyes on Peeta, for they were only interested in his reaction.

Peeta tried, but he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off Katniss as she stripped down to her swimsuit. When the big reveal happened, his jaw dropped, his eyes widened, and then darkened with nothing but pure lust.

“See, that wasn’t so bad, now was it?” Jo asked, breaking the tension. 

“Alright, let’s jump in!” Gale said, shoving Jo into the lake. The sky was beginning to darken, the sun was setting on the horizon.

At once, Katniss realized this was Peeta’s favorite time of day. And the sky‒it was his favorite color. She wondered if that’s why she chose an orange bathing suit versus her favorite color of green.

The boys rough-housed, as boys like to do on the swinging rope for a while. Then they gradually paired off‒Annie and Finnick to one side of the dock, Gale and Jo on the other, leaving Katniss and Peeta lying-floating on their life jackets.

X-X-X

Peeta reached out for Katniss, pulling her into his arms. He hugged her tight, and the warmth of his wet skin raised Katniss’s body temperature by at least two degrees. Or at least, that’s how she felt.

“I missed you today,” Peeta whispered into her ear, inhaling her scent. Katniss didn’t know what to say–she wasn’t sure how to respond since they’d only been apart for a few hours today.

Peeta finally released his grip on Katniss, so she treaded the water, her and Peeta’s noses only inches apart.

There was a pregnant pause, although not uncomfortable in the slightest. “Katniss,” Peeta whispered her name, and it sent another surge of heat surging through her limbs.

“Yes?” Katniss managed, beginning to regret those last two shots. The way Peeta said her name had her instantly worried, that, and the fact that he was refusing to meet her eyes.

‘Oh no, this is it. This is the moment I’m going to lose him. He’s going to tell me he’s met someone. That we won’t be spending as much time together,’ Katniss silently worried.

“There’s um…I need to tell you something, and I need to say it now, while I have the extra courage. But you have to know, Katniss; you have to know I’m not saying this just because I’ve had a few drinks. I’m not drunk, and I know exactly what I’m saying. I just need you to know the things I’m going to tell you…I feel them…every minute of every day, and especially when I’m completely sober.”

“Okay. Tell me, Peeta. You know you can tell me anything.”

“I know, Katniss,” Peeta paused, finally looking up to meet her eyes. “I just…I don’t want to lose you, I can’t—”

Katniss locked her hands around both of Peeta’s wrists, thankful for the life preserver keeping her afloat. “That would never happen Peeta. There is nothing you could ever say or do that could—”

In an instant, Katniss felt her body colliding against Peeta’s, his hands still firmly on her hips. He pulled her body flush to his—and the only place for her legs to go was around his waist. Then he pressed his forehead to hers so that their noses were touching.

“You feel it too, don’t you. Katniss?” Peeta’s question came out in a raspy whisper, almost seductive. Or, maybe Katniss was just imagining things.

“I…I—uh,” Katniss stuttered. Of course, she felt it, too; she’d felt it for a long time. But she was too much of a coward to say it out loud.

“I know you feel it, Katniss. Please…tell me,” Peeta begged her. “I-I need to hear you say it.”

Katniss tried to wiggle out of his arms, tried to break the hold he had on her, but Peeta’s grip remained firm.

“Peeta, you’re drunk,” Katniss dismissed his words.

“I might be, but that doesn’t change anything. My blood alcohol level doesn’t affect the way I feel about you, the way I’ve always felt about you. From that first day on the beach, I knew you were something special Katniss. I knew you were precious, someone to hold on to. I knew I had to have you, in whatever capacity you would allow.” The vibration of Peeta’s voice sent a shiver up Katniss’s spine.

“Now you’re just making things up.” Katniss blushed, finally giving up on trying to escape Peeta’s arms.

“I’m not. I remember the day I met you as if it were yesterday. It’s permanently embedded in my mind.

 (Four years ago)

“Holy shit—who is that girl with your girlfriend, Finnick?” It took Peeta a moment to get his voice to work when he saw her. They were on the beach tossing a football back and forth while they waited for the rest of their friends to join them.

“Oh, that’s Katniss.” Peeta watched this “Katniss” run up to Gale and wrap her arms around his neck, and he felt red-hot jealousy bubbling in his veins.

“I didn’t know Gale had a girlfriend,” Peeta said to Finnick.

“Oh, they’re not together. They’ve been friends since like…they were in diapers—oh shit, Peet! You wanna tap that, don’t you? Don’t let Gale find out; he’ll beat the shit outta you if you hurt her. He’s like…fiercely protective over her.”

Peeta couldn’t wipe the grin off his face as he watched Katniss walking toward him, sandwiched between Annie and Gale. There was no way on God’s green Earth that he would ever hurt her. She was the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on. She was someone to love, to cherish, to worship. Her chestnut hair was in a single braid, slung over her left shoulder. The hair tie at the end of the braid was in the shape of a primrose. Her olive-toned skin sparkled under the sunlight, beads of sweat forming across her freckled nose. She wore a dark green, one-piece bathing suit, with one of those wrap-around skirts, tied at her hip.

Peeta forced himself to focus; he didn’t want to make a fool of himself—he knew first impressions were important.

“Yo, Peet,” Gale called out as he walked over to him, Katniss by his side. “This is Catnip.” Peeta frowned at the name, just as Katniss punched Gale’s bicep.

“It’s Katniss, don’t listen to this idiot,” Katniss corrected Gale, smiling from ear to ear, meeting Peeta’s eyes. At that moment, Peeta had never seen a smile as beautiful as hers.

“I’m Peeta,” Peeta said, waiting for her face to sour at hearing his name. Most people did.

“Like the bread? Hmm, I like it,” Katniss said, amused.

“Well, yes and no. It’s spelled differently. My dad’s a baker…”

“I can’t believe you remember all that.” Katniss blushed after Peeta took them down memory lane.

“I remember everything about you, Katniss.”

Time stood still as their eyes locked. No words were spoken under the light of the moon, for they didn’t need to be. Katniss felt her heart pounding inside her chest, felt a stirring in her belly, then a throbbing at her center.

Peeta reached up and cupped the back of Katniss’s head before gently, slowly, pulling her lips to his, so as to allow her time to reject him. However, the rejection never came. Peeta pressed his mouth against hers, ran his tongue across her lips and peppered her with sweet, gentle kisses.

In that moment, Katniss could swear she heard trumpets blaring, followed by fireworks. She meant to tell Peeta no, that they couldn’t do this. They shouldn't do this. She didn’t want to ruin the best friendship she’d ever had. She couldn’t lose Peeta, not over some silly crush. She meant to push him away, to swim back to the dock, but the moment his lips touched hers, she melted in his arms. She pulled herself closer to his body, if that was even possible and deepened the kiss, and she locked her arms around his neck, tightening her legs around his waist. A wave of embarrassment rolled over her when a moan escaped her mouth as Peeta’s lips found their way to her neck.

“Woo-hoo!!!” Annie called out, clapping giddily in Finnick’s arms.

“About fucking time!” Johanna snarked, and Katniss could feel her cheeks turning a deep shade of crimson.

“Shut up, ass suckers!” Peeta yelled at his friends, unable to wipe the shit-eating grin from his face.

Katniss hid her face in the crook of Peeta’s neck, too embarrassed to face her friends. They’d been giving her and Peeta hell for the longest time. Always nagging them about “getting over it and hooking up already.” And for the longest time, Katniss and Peeta insisted that they were only friends. And they were.

But now there was no turning back.

“Okay, continue,” Annie waved them on. “Pretend like we’re not even here.”

Peeta continued to hold Katniss while he bobbed in the water, but their moment was broken. Katniss was too nervous to do anything more. But Peeta was at least grateful she wasn’t pulling back.

“Want to go inside?” Katniss nodded at Peeta’s question. Peeta  guided them to the ladder and climbed out, then helped Katniss up the ladder. He grabbed two towels from the warmer, handing one to Katniss.

“We’re going in. Don’t drown,” Peeta called out without looking back.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll be up soon.”

Katniss and Peeta walked back to the cabin with their fingers linked and their hearts connected.

X-X-X

“Peeta, I-this-I don’t think‒” Katniss began to protest, but Peeta stopped her.

“Katniss,” Peeta whispered into Katniss’s ear and she melted like silly putty. “Can you honestly look me in the eye and say you don’t want this as much as I do? Because if you can, I’ll never mention it again. We’ll pretend like the last twenty-four hours never happened and nothing will change.”

Peeta and Katniss had been back from the lake for at least an hour. They had both showered (separately), gotten into their night clothes, crawled into the bed, and slipped under the covers.

A tear escaped from the corner of Katniss’s eye, and Peeta caught it with the pad of his thumb.

“Don’t cry Katniss, I’m‒”

“Peeta, no, I can’t‒” Peeta felt a giant lump form in his throat and it took everything in him to force the tears away. “I can’t tell you that Peeta, because I do. I feel it, too. I have for a long time.” Katniss knew this wasn’t what she should say, but she had never lied to Peeta and she didn’t plan to start now.

As suddenly as it appeared, the giant lump in Peeta’s throat vanished just as quickly. Peeta thought Katniss was saying she can’t—with him, but she was simply answering his question from a moment ago.

“Peeta, you’re my best friend. When something happens in my life, whether it’s good, bad, or something as simple as me finding a clearance sale at the grocery store, you’re the first person I want to call. You mean so much to me, and it’s just that…I’m not just scared, I’m terrified.”

“What are you afraid of Katniss? You have to know that I would never hurt you, I’d never betray you, I—”

“It’s not…that’s not what scares me. I don’t doubt that. But…what if it doesn’t work out? What if things end badly and I lose the best friend I’ve ever had? I…I don’t think I could survive that.” Katniss’s voice trembled as she spoke these words. The thought of losing Peeta, or the possibility of never seeing him again…it truly petrified her, and she wasn’t sure which scared her more.

Peeta gave Katniss a soft smile and twirled a lock of her hair around his finger. “But what if it does work out? What if it’s great and amazing, or better than anything either of us could dream of? Because I think it could be. I think we could be something beautiful. And I think it’s worth the risk. That you’re worth the risk.”

Katniss hooked her arms around Peeta’s broad torso, scooted her body as close as she could manage and just held on for dear life. “I can’t lose you Peeta…I can’t. It would break me.”

Peeta engulfed Katniss in his arms and used his cheek to brush the stray hairs from her face. “You’ll never lose me Katniss. Never.”

Katniss hooked her leg over Peeta’s and rested her head against his chest. She inhaled the scent of cinnamon and dill and shivered.

“Are you cold?” Peeta asked. Katniss blushed, glad for the poor lighting in the room.

“No. I’m perfect.” Katniss said.

Then Peeta pulled back slightly, tilted Katniss’s chin up so their eyes met. Katniss wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, just staring into the others eyes before Peeta leaned in. Slowly, slowly, he inched closer and closer until finally, his full, soft and lush lips grazed her own.

It took everything in Katniss not to attack Peeta, she so badly wanted to flip him on his back and devour him right here.

Peeta’s kisses were soft and gentle at first, as if they were asking for permission. One of his hands rested on the crest of her hip while the other reached out to cup the back of her head. Katniss wasn’t sure how it was possible, but Peeta pulled her closer, deepening their kiss. She parted her lips, granting him access, which he accepted greedily. His tongue traced her lips before he slid it into Katniss’s mouth.

Feeling an insatiable amount of pleasure, Katniss moaned and couldn’t find it in herself to even be embarrassed. Then she slid her hand up the back of Peeta’s t-shirt and dug her palms into the firm muscles of his back.

“This is a million times better than my dreams,” Peeta’s raspy voice vibrated against Katniss’s lips, and it sent a surge of electricity straight to her core.

Katniss had always wondered if Peeta was a good kisser. She even occasionally found herself daydreaming about Peeta’s tongue. She wondered if he tasted like he smelled…thought about what his tongue would feel like inside her mouth. She had even fantasized on a few occasions, what his tongue might feel like…in other places. But all the daydreaming in the world could have never prepared her for this moment. 

Peeta’s tongue…it was, in one word…sublime. Everything about it was perfect. Like the final puzzle piece, it fit perfectly in her mouth; it moved in perfect synchronicity with her own. It glided in and out, in and out slowly, then side to side…with the utmost perfection. 

Yes, Peeta was definitely a good kisser.

“God, you taste so good,” Peeta groaned, his slick tongue gliding against the sensitive skin of her neck.

Katniss untangled her arms from Peeta and tugged his shirt up. She wanted it off. She needed it off. She yearned for his bare skin to collide with hers. Peeta acquiesced and raised his arms, allowing Katniss to rid him of the thin fabric.

In turn, Peeta did the same to Katniss, seamlessly slipping her tank top over her head. Like a magnet, they gravitated into each other’s arms. For several minutes, Peeta held Katniss against his chest, savoring the pleasure her bare skin gave him, and then finally, tracing his fingers lightly across her back.

“Katniss?” Peeta rasped her name, and once again she shuddered. “I want you.” Katniss wondered how three little words could have such an effect on her body and how they caused every nerve in her body to come to life.

“I’ve wanted you for so long. I’ve fantasized and dreamed about this day so many times over. I never…I guess…what I’m trying to say is you’re the one in control tonight.“ Peeta’s serious gaze penetrated through Katniss as she listened to him continue. "You call the shots. Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you. But if you don’t…if there’s something you don’t want, or you’re not ready for, all you have to do is say the word. We won’t do anything you don’t want to do. I… just…please don’t be afraid to tell me no.”

How is this man so perfect? Katniss silently wondered as she tangled her limbs with Peeta’s, then slammed her mouth against his.

Katniss didn’t think there was a single thing she wouldn’t give Peeta‒tonight or…ever. Because the truth was, she’d never wanted anyone or anything more than she wanted Peeta right now.

To Be Continued…

[silversatoru]

Ok ok- don’t judge me but get this- College AU, Where Ereh and his friends all go to a nearby maid cafe and turns out his s/o works there, and his s/o is wearing a EXTREMELY short maid outfit and she starts to flirt with Eren’s friends, and basically Eren had enough and dragged his s/o to a bathroom stall, and fucked them calling y/n their little slut, etc. and fucked them so hard they couldn’t work the rest of the day- BYE- 🏃🏻‍♀️ 💨 🚪

maid cafe

a/n: i would never judge you for this???? your mind is incredible and this idea has corrupted my brain for days,, please send more of your wonderful ideas to my inbox. and please let me know what u think bc i truly hope i did u proud

eren yeager x female maid cafe!reader

synopsis: eren and his friends go to a maid cafe and his new girlfriend is their waitress — so he drags her to the bathroom and makes sure she knows who she belongs to

tags/warnings: smut, dom/sub, degrading, mild humiliation, mirror sex, public sex, mentions of drug use

word count: 3.4k

“hey, we should check out that maid cafe downtown. i heard the waitresses are fine,” jean smirked as he proposed the idea, passing a blunt he’d just finished rolling over to eren.

eren graciously accepted the weed, but clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes at jean’s new idea for their friday night. a maid cafe wasn’t particularly up his alley -- he’d just started dating you a few weeks ago and didn’t have any interest in drooling over other women all night. but he was bored and if everyone else wanted to go, he supposed he’d tag along too.

“hell yeah, pretty girls in short skirts sounds good to me,” connie jived, a giddy smile on his face as he blew out some smoke from his own blunt.

“don’t you think that kind of place is a little disrespectful, guys? we shouldn’t view women as-”

“you’re too uptight armin, maybe we can find a nice girl to suck you off and loosen you up a little bit” jean laughed and cut him off as the blonde boy continued to give his immature friends a disapproving look.

“whatever i’m in, just let me finish this first,” eren held up his blunt and took another long drag, “i wont be able to stand you assholes all night if im not high”.

the four of them hung around their shared four-bedroom college apartment a little longer, finishing up their smoke sesh and flinging half-assed insults at one another. the sky was already getting dusky by the time they actually left and were walking through the small, bustling town surrounding their campus. the cafe wasn’t too far, maybe a thirty minute walk, but it was a beautiful spring night and shit, gas is expensive.

armin’s face was horribly flushed when they finally arrived and entered the front door, the poor boy completely unable to even make eye contact with the hostess standing in front of them. his shyness earned him a swift elbow from eren — his way of telling the blonde boy to relax a little bit.

the young hostess spoke to them in a sing-song tone, her hair perfectly curled to frame her face and her cheeks pink with blush. connie and jean completely ate up everything she was doing, gawking at her like a bunch of losers who hadn’t gotten laid in way too long — which is exactly what they were. eren was almost relieved when she finally sat them at a table and walked away, because he couldn’t stand to listen to jeans' horrendous attempt at flirting any longer.

everything on the menu had cute names that matched the theme of the cafe, and while eren and armin browsed the options, connie and jean continued to whisper about the different waitresses and which one they hoped they got.

as for you, it had been a pretty uneventful night, normal customers and nothing too crazy — that was until you walked up to the newest table you were assigned and saw your boyfriend and his friends sitting around the booth. eren and you hadn’t been dating all that long, a few weeks at most, and you hadn’t even met any of these friends yet. anxiety began to pool in your chest, but you tried your best to put on your best voice and greet them like they were any other table — after all, eren was staring so intently at the menu that he hadn't even noticed you yet.

“welcome home, masters! can i get any drinks for you?” you push your voice up to a high octave and make sure to draw out the word masters — it was the opening line that every waitress was required to use by the cafe.

two of the four boys are ogling at you so intensely that they might as well have drool hanging off their desperate lips. a third boy is keeping his eyes fixated on the table as if he doesn’t want to look at you — which is something you’re not quite used to. and eren is staring at you with his mouth gaping open, which he quickly shuts before any of his friends can notice.

he decided to sit back and watch, an amused look on his face as you continue to flaunt your extra-girly facade. he decides that now isn’t a great time for introductions to his bonehead friends — plus he knows you’re nothing like this in real life, so it’s entertaining to watch you act so out of character.

not to mention you look hot as fuck in your skimpy maid outfit — the tight corset-like top hugged your breasts perfectly and your skirt was so short he could practically see the base of your ass cheeks. he could definitely get used to seeing you like this.

but his amusement quickly started to fade as connie and jean shamelessly showered you in compliments and flirted with you like their lives depended on it. and what makes it worse is you’re playing along — he gets that it’s your job but still, can’t you just tell them to shut the fuck up?

he shoots the two idiots across from him a dirty look as soon as you walk away, “hey dumbasses, cut the girl a break”.

“hey man, i didn't hear you call dibs or anything,” connie raised an eyebrow at him.

“yeah dude, we’re just fucking around, chill,” jean added, a light laugh hanging off his last word.

eren couldn’t do anything but roll his eyes in response. he didn’t want to outright expose your relationship yet but he wouldn’t be able sit here and watch this all night either.

his blood was practically boiling when you returned with a tray full of their drinks. connie and jean turned their charms right back on for you, and fuck, if he had to hear you call them “master” one more time he was gonna lose his mind.

“armin get the fuck out of the booth,” he glared at the blonde boy, practically pushing him out of the booth so he could get to you.

armin yet out a small yelp, clambering out of his seat and letting eren climb out after him. the dark haired boy gave you the sweetest smile, but his eyes were lit up like flames.

“hey, mind showing me where the bathrooms are?”

you find yourself frozen in place for just a second, but quickly recover and give him a quick “of course master, follow me!”

the two of you walk to the bathroom in silence, but you can practically feel the heat radiating off of eren.

when you reached the restrooms you opened the door for him and bowed your head, but he grabbed your wrist and yanked you inside behind him, earning a small yelp from you. you noticed him snap the lock down behind him, and before you could even question his motives you were backed into a wall with his lips working roughly against yours.

“so this is what you do all day? walk around with your ass hanging out while calling people master?” he growled in your ear while moving down towards your neck and placing violent kisses along the sensitive skin.

“i- ah- if it bothers you-“ you breath out between gasps, your hands pressed defensively to his chest, “god, you reek of pot, eren”.

“no, it doesn't bother me, i love watching you flirt with other men. but let me remind you who you actually belong to now,” he murmured, voice dripping with sarcasm as he nibbled up to your ear and his hands fondled with the zipper at the back of your uniform.

“eren!” a strangled yelp leapt from your throat as he unzipped you and let your costume fall around your ankles.

for a second you thought about trying to stop him, but his hot lips against your cool skin was starting to win you over. your neck was undoubtedly covered in bruised love marks now, your skin aching in the most beautiful way.

“take it all off,” he mumbled into your ear as he snapped the strap of your bra against your skin.

“we’re in a bathroom eren, i don’t-“ you tried to reason with him, but any inkling of a rational thought was long gone from his mind.

“what’s with all the protests? you had no problem following orders when my friends were the ones giving them,” he cocked an eyebrow at you and lifted his loose shirt over his head in one swift motion.

you could have retorted or made a jab back at him, but your attention was caught up in the perfect lines of eren’s physique. between the sculpted curves of each of his muscles, his dark hair tied in a loose knot at the base of his neck, and the evil smirk across his lips, you were rendered indefensible. everything about eren was so intoxicating, and the idea of letting him have his way with you right now, in this bathroom, was starting to sound less and less like a bad idea. you weren’t sure how long you’d been staring and admiring when his lusty voice filled your ears again.

“did you forget how to use that pretty mouth of yours? i’m sure i can give you a little refresher,” he faked a frown and pointed to the floor with his index finger.

without a shred of reluctance you sunk to his feet. he had you in a state of utter compliance now, and all he had to do was mutter a few arrogant words and take off his shirt — you were almost ashamed, almost.

after a few smooth movements of his fingers against the drawstrings of his sweats, the tip of his member was hanging mere centimeters from your face. you glanced up at him with giant eyes as he stared down at you with his clouded ones. between his raging hunger for your body and the high that was still clouding his mind, there wasn't a single coherent thought in eren’s head other than the way your lips would feel wrapped around his cock.

“open up, princess. if you wanna act like a slut, i’ll treat you like one,” he grabbed the back of your head and forced it forward.

your lips parted without even thinking, and he thrusted his full length down your throat without any warning. you were left coughing and sputtering, the walls of your throat constricting against his cock and sending a few curses from his lips.

he slowed down slightly after that, but kept a steady pace as he mouth-fucked you until tears were leaking down your cheeks. you were gagging and coughing and your face was stained with salty saline but you loved every second of it. his head rolled back as raspy grunts fell from between his teeth, his fist tightening at your scalp.

after he thought you’d finally had enough he pulled back and released your hair from his steel grip. his cock was aching now, coated in a thick layer of your sticky saliva and yearning for more.

“get on the counter,” he ordered, and you scrambled to your feet in a way that was embarrassingly desperate.

you boosted yourself up onto the cool countertop, positioned perfectly between two sinks and leaning back against the mirror. eren placed a firm grip on each of your legs, shoving them open and snickering at the slick patch of fabric between your thighs.

“you like being treated like a whore, don’t you?” he clicked his tongue off the roof of his mouth and reached down at your panties before yanking them off in one fell swoop.

he squatted down so his face was level with your cunt, sticking out his tongue and dragging it up to your clit with antagonizing slowness. he moved the warm muscle up and down, sliding it between your folds and in circles around your clit — but his tongue was just barely making contact. and every time you bucked your hips towards him, begging and yearning for just a little more he’d pull his head back and click his tongue at you.

you were aching, leaking, and so incredibly needy for him and he knew it. he’d transformed you into the crumpled mess laying before him in a matter of minutes, and he was very proud of it.

“i’d start begging if i were you, or i’ll leave you here like this — a stupid broken slut with no one to fuck her,” he stood up and cocked his head to the side before beginning to tease your entrance with a single finger.

“ah- eren, please! i’ll do whatever you want,” you whimpered at him, a pitiful look on your face.

“eren? you know you’re not supposed to call customers by their name here,” he shook his head, “you’ll have to do better than that”.

“please- master, use me however you want. just please fuck me already”.

that seemed to suffice for eren, because after that it didn’t take long for him to shealth himself inside you and have your sweaty back slamming into the glass mirror behind you. strangled moans and pitiful whimpers slipped from between your lips, your eyes rolling back into your head in complete bliss. he’d teased and tormented you for so long that the sudden intense stimulation was almost too much.

he fucked himself into you so hard you thought you might break — your legs ached and your back hurt from awkwardly leaning into the mirror. but those feelings were quickly pushed to the back of your head because the overwhelming pleasure was so forceful that you could barely focus on anything else. eren’s length was grinding deep into your aching caverns so good that it was completely clouding your brain.

you let out a stifled gasp when he abruptly pulled out, leaving you feeling empty and aching for more.

“why-,” your voice was so destitute and so, so desperate.

“shut up and stand in front of me,” he commanded, pulling you off the counter and twisting you so you were facing the bathroom mirror.

“look at yourself in the mirror and watch me fuck you,” he practically snarled, placing a palm on your back and pushing your chest down against the counter, “look at how much of a slut you are for me”.

the only response that came out of your mouth was a tiny whine of acceptance — it was pathetic.

a breathy moan fell from your lips as he slid back in, and your cheeks blushed a dark shade of red as you watched yourself get fucked from behind. it was embarrassing, humiliating even, having to see yourself like this, but what made it even worse was that you fucking liked it.

“look at yourself,” he nodded towards the mirror, picking up his pace and tightening his grip on your hips, “just a dumb whore who’s good for nothing but taking orders from other people”.

“only- you!” you let out a strangled yelp.

“what was that? i don’t think i heard you,” he thrusted hard, reaching deeper than he had the entire time and then leaning over your back so his head was positioned right next to yours.

“say it again,” he murmured, burning holes through your eyes with how intensely he was staring at you in the mirror.

“i’m a dumb whore, but only for- you,” you repeated, squirming and whining at the painful pleasure he was forcing into you.

“that’s right,” he flashed you a satisfied grin, standing back up and resuming his original pace.

the sudden shift had you clawing at the smooth countertops — desperately wishing you had a pillow or sheet to grasp onto for some kind of support. you flinched when you felt a couple of his cool fingertips find your clit, immediately rubbing hasty circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“i want you to come for me,” he locked eyes with you in the mirror again, “and i want you to think about how i’m the only one who will ever make you feel this good the entire time”.

his words were harsh but they sounded like honey when they flowed through your pathetically devoted ears. between his consistent thrusts and the pads of his fingers working their magic, you were a pitiful mess of whimpers and moans in a matter of minutes. your body twitching and legs shaking as you mumbled his name over and over — it was the only word your brain could comprehend right now.

seeing you like that nearly pushed eren over the edge himself, but he forced himself to last a little longer, wanting to milk your orgasm for everything that it was. he was genuine when he said no one else would ever make you feel the way he could — your head was spinning and your body was on a high that felt like it would never end.

only once your body finally fell limp and tired, signifying that your climax had ended, did he pull out and spray his seed all over your exposed back. you were a sticky, sweaty mess and your legs didn’t have the strength to stand even after eren was done coming down from his own high.

your face was buried in your arms when you felt a wet paper towel cleaning up the mess of semen off your back. eren tossed the towel into the garbage and wrapped his arms under your torso so he could help your pitiful self stand up. you let out a few pained whimpers, stumbling into his arms and wrapping your hands around his neck.

“that bad, huh? how are you gonna go back out there and work for all your masters? i’m sure they’re waiting,” he smirked at you, and there was no sympathy in his voice.

“i- i don’t think i can,” you whined, clinging to him as your legs continued to shake underneath you.

eren shook his head and clicked his tongue, helping you over to your clothes and assisting you with getting back into your uniform. even after getting dressed your legs refused to work — you were a shaky, stumbling mess. you sat in a pitiful heap against the tiled wall while you watched eren get his own clothes back on.

“i think you might need a new job,” he snickered, squatting down and lifting you onto his back once he was dressed.

you graciously climbed onto his back, arms wrapping around his neck and burying your face into his neck, “yeah, yeah i’ll get a new job”.

“good idea, because everyone’s about to see how pathetic you are as we walk through the cafe,” he wrapped his arms back under your backside to support your weight.

“there’s a back exit right down the hall, please take that one,” you begged, “please”.

“well. since you asked so nicely and did so well i guess you deserve that,” he complied, exiting the bathroom and following your directions to the back door.

but because you have the worst luck in the world, one of the cafe managers came walking right around the corner just as the two of you were about to leave. you buried your head deeper into eren’s neck, unbearable amounts of embarrassment and shame flooding your veins.

“hey man, she quits, sorry!” eren yelled and handled it for you, dashing out the back door before the manager could even comprehend what he’d just seen.

“thank you,” you mumbled into his shirt, and you were truly thankful that you didn’t have to speak for yourself in there.

“no problem, princess,” he adjusted one of his hands so he could squeeze your ass, making you jump against his back, “let’s head back to my house for round two, yeah?”

“r-round two?” you stuttered.

you could barely handle round one, and he was ready to go again? how!?

“i’m joking, relax. let’s go watch a movie or something,” he chuckled, hoisting you higher on his back and beginning your long walk back to his apartment.

you sighed and sunk into his back, that sounded nice. there was a huge difference in how eren acted earlier and how he was acting now, but you were a sucker for both personalities. you expected college to consist of classes and work and maybe a few new friends but meeting eren yeager was sure to make it a lot more interesting.

[muffindaddystyles]

Hates to, Hate you.

Word Count: 8k

Summary: Harry realizes that hurting Y/N broke him into pieces and tries to win her back with the confession of true feelings, will Y/N let him? If yes, how? How will he walk through fire for her?

Pairing: Famous!Harry x Reader!with anxiety.

AU: fake dating, slow burn, sexual tension, enemies to lover!

Warning: Mentions of violence, sexual assault, language, adult topics. 

PART 1, MASTERLIST

"Please, stop." He says dolefully rubbing his eyebrows to get rid of the ache pounding in his head. 

He's miserable. It hurts to not have her with him. It's been two tragic months of going through constant sleepless nights, disrestless stomach, intoxicating himself to forget her,  staring at things like a hawk and missing her terribly.

He was alone before her and never felt this lonely.

He sees her everywhere. In his dreams and her shadows in his drawing room getting excited over a ceramic vase someone gifted him. Dancing in his kitchen to the beat of pink floyd and hip-checking him for a cheerful nudge, in his back garden rescuing a sparrow who broke it's neck and in his attic stressing over her assignments. 

Everything reminds him of her. The fruity drinks that the barista's handing to the people, the fairy lights upon their heads and how she used to fond over them —- buying it for his bedroom too and when he refused to hang them, she just brushed off his snarky comment and did it herself. 

The ring in Harris finger floods back all the bitter-sweet memories of the time he refused to have a lil fun with her, (Y/N and Harris made friendship rings and bracelets for eachother with the colorful beads to spend their boring time in his home waiting for him to write some lines before they went to a gumball shop) as they try to knock some senses in their friend's brain, "You tried to dodge a heartbreak and still ended up shattering your heart, yourself." They worry about him. That he's been bearing the pain all alone and not sharing it with anyone. 

His voice croak-y and hoarse, "How's she?" The question haunts him. She blocked his phone number and even in the wee hours of night he wrecks his mind whether he should call her or not, he couldn't because she doesn't want to hear his voice. 

He misses her voice. He misses her complaints and whines as if they filled the stoic parts of his life with happiness. 

"How'd I know?" Harris lowers down to rest their elbows on the table, "I -- I thought . . she isn't in contact with ye'?" When Harris shakes their head with a gesture that he's being truthful it sinks his heart furthermore. 

He clears his throat, twisting the jewels on his hand and sucks his bottom lip to muster some courage, "I've been seeing someone." Harris chokes on the boba they were chewing on for so long, "You what?" They are completely perturbed at his statement. Even though they've been working together and been friends before Y/N came in the picture, she's still their bezzy and we don't betray our bezzies like that. 

"Yeah, someone to help me sort me feelings out." Harry frowns confusedly and then realization washes upon him so he becomes frantic in his chair, "No . . not what you're thinkin'." He runs his fingers through his hair to subside the twitch in them. 

"A therapist, 'm talkin' bout a therapist . ." He sighs watching his tea waft down sympathetically. 

"Oh. That's a good start, Harry!" Harris tries to bring the same dimply boyish smile that used to flutter over his lips whenever she used to tease him, unfortunately it never appears. 

// 

Y/N didn't handle her first ever heartbreak well. She lost her appetite, her focus on her studies and to her surprise didn't shed a single tear –-- it just kept piling in her chest and she waited for the moment it'd burst until she saw those pictures plastered all over social media. Pictures of him with some model that isn't a shorty pants like her at all, totally how those ladies described his type to be and someone with whom he wouldn't be embarrassed to hang out with. 

She's everything, Y/N's jealous of. Those sparkling blue eyes compared to her boring brown ones, handsome figure and the radiance of richness. 

Then she got stuck into her life responsibilities and worried about other things such that; she wasn't able to pay any bills and her flat's rent despite doing two part time jobs along with doing her class-fellows assignments in return of money and still got kicked out of it. Her close friend offered her to live in her studio and she has made it her kitchen, study, sleeping room with her stuff and clothes scattered everywhere.

She lives on noodles and toasted breads sometimes treating herself with delights of kit-kat bars in the middle of nights. 

Watches her friend do her work and leave when the night comes by —- she has never felt this lonely in her entire life. 

"So, was it love at first sight?" Nora her friend asks, handing her cuppa tea and a scone. Y/N let a weak sad smile slip, shaking her head and reminiscing all those moments where she was falling in love with him without even realizing, "Falling in love slowly patiently is the most beautiful . . . at some time I used to loathe his existence but staying with him and after knowing him, it was like --— an escapeless tunnel. I didn't realize it, till one day I woke up and my heart saw him in a different light, where I wanted to give him all me lovin' but he wasn't ready for it." She shrugs sipping the hot beverage and doesn't flinch from the burn that tingles at the tip of her tongue. 

When she put her cup aside Nora takes her hand assuring her sweetly, "You'll have that person soon -- he's just on his way, with a big bouquet of roses and a teddy bear to give you the lovin' you deserve." Y/N giggles at that waving her off and not showing how her person is still Harry. What does she do to forget him? To fool her in thinking he isn't her first love.

"Aish, Nora aren't you gettin' late? Gooo." She had some clients to meet before she stopped here at studio to grab some things but it turned into a girlie hangout, "Take care honey and don't forget to put a bucket there." She points to the corner where water's dripping from the rooftop and Y/N exhaled an exasperated sigh of breath when the door clicks leaving her alone yet again. 

// 

It was past twelve and when usually she pulls an all nighter to study -- today she decided to sleep early. Her bad habit of overthinking kicks in again, this time it's not over some silly thing but she ponders over where she went wrong? She should've kept her feelings to herself and atleast would have been sleeping in her bed cuddled with her chonky cat Zippy. 

She misses Zippy badly. 

A noise of door unlocking loudly drags her from her reverie and her heart pounds against her ribcage ready to break it. Who could be at this hour of night? It could be Nora since she's the only one who got keys to the place. 

Sitting up quickly she squints against the blinding lights and watches someone's boot stepping over her blanket that flopped onto the floor from the sofa she's sleeping on. 

"Kevin? What are you doing here?" He's Nora's boyfriend and her classfellow. He just shrugs tumbling his way towards the sofa and she tries to scoot back from him as much as possible, "I'm here to see you. . ." He slurs. It knocks her breath out, filling terror in her veins as the heels of her feet rub against the leather of the couch in her effort to be away from him. 

"What? This's not appropriate I -- I . . suggest you to call Nora s –- so, what're you doin —-" She squeaks in fear sinking into the couch when he towers over her and traps her under him with his hands on either side of her body aggressively, "I like you. Why don't you get it!!" She flinches when he shouts angrily with bloodshot eyes and the smell of alcohol disgusts her springing tears in her eyes. 

"Please, stop . . ." She whispers with silent tears running down her throat using all her strength to push at his shoulders but he grips her hips tightly and yanks at her sleeping shirt revealing the strap of her bralette. She couldn't even cry for help. It's useless so putting some belief in herself for the last time she uses all her power and kicks him in his crotch pushing him roughly on the floor. 

His nails tear at her delicate skin but she doesn't care before running out of the studio ignoring the names he's calling her from behind.

She runs away, away and away. Not thinking twice where she's going before crossing the bridges and tunnels. It feels like her ears are bleeding with the echo of loud horns of traffic and the hopelessness of her life makes her fall on her knees. She cries all the tears she was bottling up for months feeling like she's running out of time and reaching dangerously near to her end. 

She's been in the same neighbourhood she's been before many times. The chilly wind doesn't prick goosebumps over her skin, the night's darkness doesn't scare her and the stray dog that's barking somewhere in far doesn't affect her at all as she stares at the door from where she has stepped into her comfort space many times. 

Harry's with Scottie. His childhood friend who's here in London for some shoot. They were lounged in the living room talking their hearts out and their cringey memories from when they were small when he halted mid-talk, jaw slacking when his eyes took the sight of someone standing at his main door from the multiple security screens appearing on the telly. 

He doesn't believe at first. Thinking he's hallucinating and that maybe he just saw a flicker of a ghost but when she looks up revealing her sad face and those big brown eyes he rushes to open the door. 

"Fuck." He breathes out working on the heavy cold locks of the oak door with shaky hands anxiously and she was about to walk away with her back turned to him when he spurts out her name in haste, "Y/N." She listens to him. Insides breaking with the nirvana and scent of him surrounding her. 

His breath hitches in his throat when she spins to meet his apprehensive gaze and she doesn't give him a chance to have a proper look at her before falling in his arms, her head hitting his chest and body shaking vigorously as she sobs sadly. 

"Darlin'?" He asks worriedly, slipping his arms around her shoulders to lull her in his embrace, "Are you oka?" He feels like his stomach ate his heart as he anticipates an explanation from her and she isn't doing anything but crying. 

"You're scarin' me, pet. What happened honey?" He pulls away to cradle her face in his calloused palms. His chests pangs with hurt and remorse upon seeing her tear stained cheeks, wobbly blue lips, and disheveled state. 

He steps inside with her still in his arms and rubs his hand down her spine to calm her down as little sad sniffles and hiccups keep slipping out of her mouth. 

He sits her on the sofa squatting down infront of her and Scottie brings her water. When she refuses to drink it because Harry strokes his thumb against the apple of her cheek, "Shh, 's okay . . you're okay. You're with me now, sweet girl." It's like the world and anything else has blurred around him and his ever priority's focusing on her only. His observant gaze dawdles from her face to her bruised shoulder emitting an afflicted gasp of trepidity from between his lips and it deepens to a growl when it fell over her hip-bone where the fabric of her pyjama's spotted with blood.

He glances up at Scottie who gives him a knowing look of horror. He gets closer to her and she doesn't retract as his thumb streaks away the blood oozing from her shoulder gently, saying nothing as he examines it. 

After a brief pause Y/N's heart skips a nervous beat when he tilts her chin to have a better look at her face, taking in the evidence of someone handling his petal so brutally it left scratches at her face. 

Harry looks her dead in the eyes. His anger barely restrained tippling from the pot ready to leave burns, his voice is tense and quite, ears heating with wrath. 

"Who did this to you?" 

"Kevin." The tears are back at her waterline more concerned that he's panicking because of her and Scottie sits beside her massaging her shoulders. 

"Kevin, who?" Harry's question is curt controlling himself from finding this mother fucker himself and beat the shit out of him, "H -- he's my friend's boyfriend, I though --– was sleeping in her studio 'n 'n --- when he . . . he —-- " She hides her face in her palms unable to speak but Harry quickly pulls her down in a comforting hug whispering sweet things to stop her crying. 

She parts from him with puffy eyes and swollen lips shaking her head at her stupidity, "I … I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come here, 'm gonna leave — ' " She's a weeping blubbering mess trying to stand up on her jello legs with the help of the couch's armrest. 

He catches her wrist crying out, "No! Don't! please, please stay . . . . fo' me?" Scottie has never seen him like this. Bended out of shape for a person, begging them on his knees to protect them as he rambles loudly. 

"Are you sure? I don't want to be a burden on you, I -- I'll go in the morning." Since she has nowhere to go it's better she sleeps here for a night instead of on the streets. 

Harry finds it ironic. That once he didn't want her overnights now he wants her all days and weeks, perhaps till the end of his life. 

He's gonna win her back.

He hands her his tattered comfy sleeping clothes and the spare toothbrush leaving her to it. When he comes back downstairs Scottie's waiting for him at the main door. 

"You should report a file against that bastard the first thing in the morning." Scottie tells him seriously and he nods. His head snaps when she spoke softly, smiling at him, "You're in love." 

"What?" 

"I haven't seen you like that with anyone, Harry. Make it to her foolish boi -- tell her what you feel." She laughs, jolting him with his shoulders and he smiles timidly bidding her a good-bye. 

The door to her room's ajar opened as he peeks inside to make sure she's okay and sighs deeply when finds her staring blankly at the ceiling. The floorboard creaks when he pads inside quietly and her stare diverts to him while he stands on the foot of bed, "I read somewhere that cuddlin' helps ye'sleep better, you w'na try?" She hums in return, fisting the duvet under her chin and slip shuts her eyes remaining stiff in her spot when he slides under the duvet closer to her. 

She turns into a puddle when his long arms wrap around her tummy, "Is this okay?" His voice a mere whisper of care earning an honest nod from her -- his thigh strings over her legs to cocoon her in his warmth completely, ". . and this?" She again nod at him so, 

He smushes his cheek into the crook of her neck and she could feel something moist on her skin while his lips puckered to speak, "Y/N?" He murmures broken and sad snuggling more into her. 

"Hmm?" She hums, the exhaustion from walking and crying this much forcing her to sleep, "I've missed you, terribly." Her heart leaps and she wants to exchange the familiarity of emotions but her tongue remains heavy in her mouth. 

// 

Her toes curls and fingers clutches the wrinkly fabric of the pillow case she had her head rested on but now it's slipping down from over it due to her body shaking vigorously as she tries to escape those filthy, gruesome hands like a terrifying shadows of evil choking her throat and sucking the life out of her. 

Harry's head snaps down to where she was snuggled to his side moments ago when she murmur-yells no,no,no,no'. He feels like someone placed a heavy brick over his chest at the sight of his lovie writhing like a leaf petrified of whatever she's dreaming of and his shoulders rolls back while he perches on his elbow to shake her gently out of it. 

"Y/N . . ." He remains dulcet. Chewing onto his already swollen bottom lip since he didn't even close his eyes the entire night manipulating the plush flesh, he doesn't know what kept him awake —- but it sure was this sense of responsibility to make her feel protected under his wings. She smacks his arm away pushing at his chest with her all might to skid away to the edge of the bed in her sleepy state, so he quickly hunches on wobbly knees to catch her before she falls. 

"It's just me, Angel, Harry –- wake up darlin'," His heart beating ominously frantic and head jumbling with horrible thoughts of what she's going through as her warmed up cheeks soak with tears, he has never seen her like this, he never wanted to see her for the first time after months like this --- shattered to pieces and drained of her energy.

He smooths his thumb to caress her cheek slightly and swipe those sad tears away. She wakes up with a gasp making him jerk his chin back, blinking rapidly to confirm her surroundings and her fearful vision zeros to his panicked features. She places her palms against his pectorals to make sure he's real and there and that ugly nightmare just ended, "Harry?" He gulps the thick web of tears down his throat and bobs his head. 

"Yes, sweet girl, Harry . . ." The very streaks of golden rays sneak through the curtains and dances between their faces as she fists the hem of his shirt, "It was just a nightmare." He assures her running his hand up and down her arms to calm her down. 

"Don't be afraid, dovie' won't let anybody hurt ya from now on, g'na protect you —--" It was the last straw for her before she flipped him over and climbed out of his bed to get out from his room. 

"Shit." He drives into a state of frenzy following her down the stairs like a puppy almost missing a step or two as she wears the slippers she came in last night, "Where ye' goin'?" His muscles twitch in a hurry to make his next move and save whatever's between them that's keeping him sane, " Dunno, away from you." She shrugs, lost in her own fog and the sting in his heart's unbearable with the inflammation of hurt. 

"Why?" He tumbles through the last step and infront of her, eyes bloodshot and heart how from the squeezing agony of loosing her for second time for the same cause. 

"Because, I w'na forget about you!!" The scream she had in her lungs to convey her anger gets stuck in her throat. His shoulders slump from the burden of guilt and regret. 

"Why?" He feels like throwing up with the unbearable anguish of him hurting to a point he wants to wash his memories out of her mind. 

"Because you make me so confused, Harry…" Her face pinches into an exasperated expression of hopelessness while she nudges him aside to pass by him and to the main door but he catches her wrist before she could step outside and never come back to him, "I wouldn't confuse you from now on …. 've been better fo' you y/n, 'cos I want you to know that I'm yours." His confession springes her off guard by pure stupefaction and when she looks at him -- he's already gazing at her as if she's the moon surrounded by singing stars. 

"Please, let me fight for you baby." Tears springs at his waterline ready to welcome a sob out of his lungs. Because he knows he'll be unable to live his life without her, his love will rot in the cage of his heart because he'd never be able to express it for anyone except her. 

He continues not holding back anything from her instead unlocking another love language and that's being vulnerable and completely defenceless to her, "While being with you I still thought a part of me was in love with my ex and I didn't want ya to be me second priority, could neve', was so so wrong 'cos even though you're not my firsts you're gonna be my lasts. I'll make sure that you're." He gulps down the tears blocking his wind pipes and making it difficult to speak. 

"I want you to give us another chance, to forgive me and give me a proper chance to love you 'cos that's what you deserve . .." The sincerity and genuineness in his stained smaragdine irises turns her pudgy in his hold, ". . . you deserve all the lovin' in this world, honey." 

"Work for it then." She tells him and his pretty eyes widen adorably as of some golden fish, a vivacious smile adorns his features and he doesn't take a moment before swiping her off her feet and into his arms to hug her tightly. 

His insides feels like nourishing after a time with contentment and satisfaction. 

To have his loved one in his arms. 

In his life.

"Thank you, Thank you, Thank youuu." He rambles into the crook of her neck, elated and joyful. Swaying their bodies together and making her smile softly after a prolonged time of suffering. 

She'll heal. 

He'll make sure to put ointment of affection and love on her wounds to help her heal, for herself but nobody else. 

// 

"You've got to be kidding me!" She mutters putting the alcohol swab on his torn bleeding knuckles and he squeaks locking his calf around her ankle, "Ouch! Ye' mad woman." 

Harry and her went to file a report against Kevin, along with Nora who became her witness because she despises that disgusting of a man to be even around her and her studio let alone her boyfriend. 

Harry was her biggest support through the whole process and dropped her off assuring her he'll pick all her stuff from Nora's place. There he was, Kevin. Stumbling at the footpath after Nora kicked him and his luggage out. 

Harry's very patient and optimistic but not when his loved ones get hurt. He didn't know what was happening around him before he sprinted towards Kevin and punched him square in his face, breaking his nose and busting his own knuckles with a fierce shout of "y'son of a bastard!" 

"If I ever . . . ever see ya near her, I promise that you wouldn't be able to see the living daylight." He grunted, resisting to hit him in the shin with his boots and walked past him to the studio to collect her stuff. 

He was grief stricken seeing the way she had to live and not finding her pet cat anywhere. His heart could be heard cracking into tinytinytiny pieces when Nora told him that Y/N gave it to the vet since she was unable to afford it. 

When she catches him staring up at her like a love-stricken puppy she huffs wrapping a band-aid around his knuckles, "'M mad at you." He seems unfazed making her gasp when brings her closer with his legs wrapped around her's, "Why . . . you're always mad at me." He whines jutting out his bottom lip and she shakes her head at his silly dotiness. 

"You -– you can't go hurtin' yourself fo' me, H." She's very unaware, because certainly he'd do it as many times. 

She narrows down her eyes to squint him in offense when he brushes her comment off with nonchalance and raises his bandaged wrist up to her face, "Will you kiss it better' fo' me, pet?" Her insides crumbles like dry rose petals falling from a beloved book of her favourite romances. 

"Hmm?" He nudges it in a questioning suppressing a smirk. She wipes her clammy and antiseptic hands down her trousers not meeting his gaze while taking his hand awkwardly but delicately closer to where her soft mouth is located; she halts glowering at him, "Only if you ask nicely." 

"That wasn't nice? Thought I was being a good boy there." He mumbles diligently pulling at the hem of her shirt and she bites down a smile, fingers still wrapped round his wrist. 

"Pretty please…?" He wheezes his words out begging-ly -- upper lip curving, pupils dilating and she shrugs, "..if you insist so.." His grin was immaculate that of golden sun when she pressed her lips to his knuckles carefully giving it a gentle pat afterward. 

"Not doing that again." She breathes out the air she was winding up inside her for so long. Spinning on her heels to turn her back towards him and put the first aid back under the sink, "We'll see 'bout that, let's do some grocery." He stands up patting his thighs loudly, "Wouldn't be surprised if we'll find bugs in me cabinet instead of goodies." 

// 

They've been roaming isles for an hour now and they always end up fighting who will push it. Harry doesn't let her because she keeps on filling it with instant noodles, chocolate bars and sakurai oreos. 

"How about we try to live till our fifties wouldn't be that beautiful?" He follows behind her closely. His chest brushes against her shoulders everytime she makes a stop to cooes over some brightly coloured food and candies, "'M trying to make it till next year, dunno 'bout you." She mutters grumpy-ly tossing another packet of cherry lollipop inside the trolley.

He puts it back. 

With a strict warning glare to her way. 

"I want you to stay healthy." He says sternly glaring up at her from his ducked position. She tosses the lollipop back from the shelf, "'M paying for my things." She dismisses him off panning deadly. 

"Fo' fucks sake, 's not 'bout money!" He grits annoyed at her stubbornness and she arches her brow leaning against the trolley, "Harry…'m not an actress or some high-paid model. Lemme enjoy real things, okay? Or just say you'd look too outta my league standing next to me." Her brows pints down into a frown and her shoulder slumps with her body further relaxing against the trolley. 

She's up for a debate with him right in the middle of the junk food aisle if that's the case.

"See. That's why I don't want to be married!" A couple from far banters off in astonishment catching Y/N completely off guard. 

"Uh-ah!" She yelps getting startled from the boom of interruption and a high-pitch squeaks leaves out of her petite lungs when the trolley rolls from under her perched elbow making her stumble for a nice trip but the bang never came as Harry coiled his arm around her waist to pull her on stable feet with a firm hand over her smallest of back. 

His gentle pupils flicker between her frenzied one's, noses tickling and teasing each other with each spurt of breath that rushes out of her parted soft mouth and against his cheek. 

"Maybe it's not that bad after all." The couple who were planning their future based on another couple, who's not even a couple yet but trying to work on it with their shared amount of affection; sighs in awement leaving Harry and Y/N in their own bubble. 

He takes her by the elbow and helps her with his lips thinned, "Careful there." His mumble is deep and coherent husk. 

She didn't whine about his green vegetables, boring low fat cheese and planned meals, celery or whatever that shit is, after that. Walking by his side like a kid who just got relief from his time out punishment. 

While on the counter she asked him politely rather than biting his head of, "Lemme pay please. I'm already imposing on you by staying at your place." She knows that he wouldn't let her. Harry wants to take care of her -- in every way. He just hopes she warms up to him slowly that there will be a day she thinks of his home as hers too, oh how the table turns! 

T'not make her think that his love for her is only restrictive to materialistic things he lets her pay --- but for half of it. 

"D'ya got a change, miss?" The cashier asks her and she cranes her neck up to him. He denies waving his credit card with a disappointed expression so she quickly takes a chewing gum from the racks beside in return for the change. 

He stops in his tracks. Watching her with glinting eyes more like fawning at her when she sways on her feet happily swinging the bag in her hold side by side. 

"C'mon Harry!" She grins twiddling her fingers in a gesture to usher him where she's standing beside his car, "Yup. On your command, darlin'." He shakes his head. To fetch himself from the fond-land he always enters with anything she does. 

// 

There's a low hum of telly buzzing in the room as they sit crossed legs on the coffee rug with their knees brushing if any of them moves their bum a tad, while they slurp onto the remaining soup in the noodles cup. 

This whole time he wanted to say something, to talk to her, his heart out and make it a domestic routine of sharing stuff while they eat comfy in eachother's presence but seems like his tongue betrays him everytime and his needy eyes always want to admire her and the little things she does. 

He licks his lips, nodding profusely when she asks for his cup and chopsticks to take to the kitchen. A huge sigh of relief vanishes out from his chest when she disappears inside giving him time to re-collect himself, he rummages through the bag to take out the chewing gum they bought at the last moment. 

He rips the packet with his teeth but it remains pressed there between his morals when he senses the familiarity of the foil --- she bought a fucking condom out of accident! 

At the same moment she pads outside halting in her tracks infront of him with a horrendous expression as her peepers wouldn't stop blinking. He doesn't not know what got into him but he throws it her way as if he's utterly disgusted by it. 

Sinks into the couch and refuses to meet her gaze. She throws it back at him, "I don't want it, keep it you might need it." There he goes. The smugness fuels back as he outstretches his arm over the back of the couch and man-spreads scrutinizing the way her eyes linger at his meaty thighs before flicking them away with a nervous gulp. 

"You've already planned it all out, hun?" He smirks rubbing the belly of his nose with his pinky's knuckle and she folds her elbows under her breasts shaking her head at his teasing, "Yeah planning to . . . murder you t'night." She laughs out evilly when his eyes widen comically. 

"Hmm. I see. Didn't know ye' were this kinky 'n naughty." She rolls her eyes at his edgy nip. She wouldn't admit it but him testing her patience turns her hot and flustered. 

"Night, H." She yawns and his heart grows ten times bigger at the softness of her appearance. She cranes her head against her shoulder to look at him from the spot she's standing at when his voice calls for her, "Y/N!? Ye'really into knives? In the bed I mean." His grin mischievous knowing fully well what he's doing to her as he waits for her answer propped on his knees. 

She slams the door at his face and he plops back into the sofa with a pouty victorious smile. 

// 

Harry didn't realise that in the middle of watching Gilmore Girls on the telly he fell asleep straining his neck from keeping it in a weird angle, his arms hugging the pillow and feet dangling adorably nowhere. He groans knuckling away the sleep and tries to wake up when he heard a feeble noise of someone taking his name until he looks up and finds Y/N towering him with her fluffy cream blanket pinched around her head darlingly. 

"What happened, pet? Y'okay!?" He gasps trying to sit up and take her precious face to inspect her properly but she shakes her head and lays him back gently. 

Her nose runny and cheeks rosied as she asks for a favour from him, "Can I -- um," She wipes her nose with the sleeve of her sweater paw. He doesn't question her further and opens his long arms to welcome her for a warm embrace. 

"C'mere, pet." His whisper delicate to her. 

She lies down pressed to his front resting her head on his sprawled arm and scooches herself closer to him smiling shyly against his hoodie where a Harry is embroidered in pink thread. It's like a gust of fresh spring and dew of nighty mountains as Harry takes a relaxing breather snuggling her impossibly affectionately close to himself, petting down her sweet smelling hair. 

"Y'can talk to me 'bout anythin'." Their heart-beats in sync as he keeps his palm spread at her back to protect her from falling, "Ye' know that right?" He pulls back to cradle her chin between his fingers and look her in eyes sincerely. 

"I know that button. Sleep for now, hmm?" He smiles softly, shutting his eyes from giving out how much a mere love name's enough to fuse him into a cloud of giddiness. 

// 

In the morning though, Harry's a small spoon and Y/N a big one. Her limbs trying to latch to his body in every way possible with her cheek smashed against his shoulder blade. 

His lips quirks up into a lazy loopy smile full of contentment and peacefulness as he weaves his each finger into her's to bring her knuckles to his mouth and smother it in kisses, "Rise n' shine you furball." He rasps. chin doubling adorably as he tries to look at his squirmy girl. 

He turns to face her side, temples touching and lips hovering over eachother's skin. He feels her smiling against his chin as she cuddles up into him, "I'd like to make you a brekkie…." She murmurs playing with baby curls on the nape of his neck. 

"Dunno 'bout that. What if you poison me, t'death?" He giggles and she smacks his belly pouting grumpy-ly. 

"Offer, expired. no more brekkie for you." She tells him wiggling out of his grip and walks towards kitchen but burst into gleeful laugh when he wraps around her calves like a koala bear, "Was jokinnnn', babe." He emphasizes his words with a twinge of whine and she meanders her hand in his ruffled curls. 

"Kay! Kay! But, I could only make you omelette and sour bread." He jumps back on his feet enthusiastically looping his arm around her clavicles, "No problem. Glad t'eat  anythin' made from your lovely hands."

She made him brekkie and he made fabulous peach tea for them. She blabbered off and he listened with careful ears. He praised her with glinting proud eyes and she treasured these praises in her heart. 

While she chewed slowly he messaged his manager that he couldn't come to any working place for a week or so. He wants to make it special and memorable for them, their honeymoon phase. 

"D'ya have any class today?" He asks her leaning towards her atop the counter, "Nope 's Saturday dummy." She chuckles flicking her thumb against his forehead and he gives a dimpled grin with bolted shut eyes.

"Yeah … silly me." 

"Why?" 

"So that I could take ye' ona date." His inners bouncing desperate to know her answer, "Me?" She points at herself surprised with parted lips.  

"Yes you, is there somebody else sitting with us? Hello?" He calls for that non-existent person and she suckles her bottom lip to subside her squeals down. She breathes out, "Some ghostie? Evil spirit? Jesus himself —-" She cuts his banter of. With a light slap to the back of his hand. 

"Okay." She says with an excited shake of head happiness bare in her words and Harry literally slips from his seat padding towards her in haste, "I'd love to." She confirms with a sweet smile and he hooks his nimble finger around her jeans loop to pull her closer to him for a fervid emotional hug. 

//

She was a frolic mess in her room trying out her outfits and fitting into her skirts, trousers anything that could match perfectly. Deciding to terminate any ideas to wear cotton floral sun-dresses instead ends up tucking a baby pink sweater into her chequered white and black plaid trouser along with a pair of Mary Janes booties. 

She took huge puffs of breath to calm her wild heart down when the knock on her door appeared. He decided to be a full on romantic today doing all the date rituals without any shame dressing up in a silk shirt three shades lighter than her's, with a pussy bow around his neck and she thinks she couldn't be more in love with him as he has a bunch of sunflowers and jasmines in the cracks of his jewels adorned fingers. 

"Well, well, well, Look who came to their enemy's door holding presents." She smirks and he scowls, "Oh cut it. 'M here to pick y'up fo' our date." 

What makes her lose her mind's Zippy on his shoulder.

"Oh my goodness! Harry!" She leaps towards him and takes her fluffy beast in her arms and showers Zippy's crown with many many kisses, "Thank you!" She cries out joyfully wrapping her free arm around his waist and cuddles him for dear life. 

"I lo —-- " She thinks it'd be embarrassing to say it on the first date and Harry almost had a mini heart-attack but she changed her words, "I can't be more grateful to you, thank you so much." 

"Now, stop thankin' me hunny." He gives her the flowers he plucked himself from his backyard and kisses the apple of her cheek turning her into a gooey mesh. 

"Where is it?" She avoids checking him out. 

"Why should I tell ya?" He nudges her to lock her elbow around his and she gazes up at him with loving eyes, "'cos 'm your date that's why."

"Bribe me then." He grins bashfully. 

"Harry!!" She gasps and huffs tipy-toeing timidly to plant a soft kiss to his chin but it lands against his throat making him thin his lips to give out a noise that could embarrass both of them. 

"Not telling you." He squeaks dragging her outside into the porch and she whines, "You leech!" 

// 

"You did not!" She snaps her neck in utter exhilaration from the view in front of her and towards Harry who's watching her with puffed cheeks to not to give out his bunny smile as her face turns guppy. The sunshine dawdles around them and she pulls him down to her level with the tug of their intertwined hands, "You're somethin' else, Styles." It warms his blood. Bursting sentiments of pure love and amiability through each orifice that leads to his heart. 

"Only fo' you." He whispers stroking the plush of her cheek -- restraining to place his needy  lips on her alluring pillow one's inviting him to have a good taste of their sweetness before they could taste the ripeness of strawberries growing at the farm he just took her. 

"Uhm. Let's see who could collect more!" She grins pushing herself three steps away from him with support of his pecs, "What's the prize?" He asks pawing at her hips to keep her in intimate distance and she giggles tapping his chin. 

"A feeling of saccharine-ss and sweetness when we'll eat those strawberries out." She tries not to step on heavy branches that are still growing and makes her way to the fresh patch, "Perhaps, that could be acquired from eatin' somethin' else out too." His wet lips brushes against her earlobe as he speaks, sending a shiver down her spine. 

"You're being very loud and lewd." She pokes him in ribs. Squatting down to pluck a juicy perfectly sized strawberry and hovering it against his mouth to give him a taste, "Hmm what could I say 'm a man of dirty words." His eyes darken to an intoxicating shade of emerald as his heart-shaped magenta lips wrap around the strawberry to split it in two with his teeth. 

He still remembers. How her mouth tasted that night, how her lips came molding around his's like a stamp of a lover's letter and her body fitted against his's like a lost piece of puzzle. 

Just made for him. 

"Harry …" She's out of words. Maybe, breath. 

"Yes dovie?" He hooks his finger into her belt's loop to saturate the thread like distance between them and makes tight hold at the nape of her neck to crane her head up to meet his honey eyed gaze, "D'ya know how to make strawberry mochi?" His shoulder slumps at her question and he rests his cheek atop her temple cutely. 

"Noo." His voice sort of whine-y. 

"No, problem. We'll make it together." She chuckles turning back to collect the strawberries into her basket. 

She never had this fun. Messing around with him. Feeding eachother the sweet fruit. Him scaring her that some rat sprinted by her feet and enjoying the way she jumps at him, only wheezing comically when she throws a blow at him. 

Her giggles bounces off each and every ivory flower and leafy plant as he pins her to the viridescent grass, with his thighs and tickles her non-stop. What started as raspberries turns into sloppy smothers of kisses all over her face. 

"Harry!!" She bursts into another fit of laughter, "Stop." She warns him squeezing her thighs around his waist and he giggles challenging her. 

"O'what? Huhh?" She closes her eyes nuzzling into his arm that's trapping her down, "Or I'll kiss you…" Her voice gentle and dulcet making his grip loosen and heartbeat fastens like a thunderbolt. 

"'M not afraid of that." He gives a toothy grin sneaking a glance at her hand which's gliding up his throat to cup his cheek, eyelids fluttering like petals from breeze as she smudges her sweet mesh coated lips against his's in a tenderly ardent, and yearningly amiable kiss feeling her pulse ring in her ears with so much force. 

His fingers make their home down her smooth hair to cup the nape of her neck, elbows digging into mud when he lifts her up to deepen the kiss sloppily. Just her. Only her. Swirling inside of him as his very thought. 

Their noses crooking perfectly, skins kissing and bodies hitched to eachother with the knot of souls. 

She whimpers into his mouth squishing the poor strawberry she was holding in her free hand from the intensity of fierce sentiments she's spiraling in; to have him all and swallow him all because he's that damn gorgeous. His tongue pokes and tickles the plush insides of her small mouth tasting the strawberry straight from where he loves the most. His belly burning with the fire of desire feeling the way her body's reacting with puriency to his subtle touches of affection. 

He was dying to have a kiss from her the day she gave him her lips that night and he couldn't resist but to think about it regularly. 

A wet filthy sound bubbles around them when they part away with the remnants of spit in the form of intricate strings connecting them; that breaks when he relaxes his forehead against her's taking a good breather of mossy air. 

"S' messy." He tuts when his eyes fall at her palm covered in strawberry pulp. 

She gasps giddy-ly when he pokes his pink tongue out and takes a huge swipe up her palm with an erotic hum that rattled her insides. 

"H -- arry." She nibbles at her bottom lip to filter noises she's unable to hold meanwhile he sucks her fingers one by one to clean them, her panties twisting with an ache of want. 

"Hmm. All nice 'n clean, now we should go." He says flipping her wrist to act as if he's inspecting it. Brushes the dirt of his trousers leaving her baffled and grumpy. When she doesn't stand up he squats down at her level arching a brow at her and before she could know what's happening she's thrown over his broad shoulder like a rag doll. 

Her squeals hearty and giggly as she tries to punch his back but her breath gets caught in her throat when his large hand comes spanking her butt-cheek. He waits for her reaction —- grinning cheekily when she sucks in her weak mewls and grabs the back of his neck blabbering his name off. 

He puts her back on the ground once out on the gravel path and hands her the basket piled with strawberries. Ducks down to sponge a kiss to her cheek telling her to stay glued to her spot as he leaves to pay. 

She smiles down at her feet then at the sky revinding all the moments and their lovely kiss that makes her feel all warm and stupidly gooey. 

While boarding the train he wiggles his finger behind himself to get a hold on her and keep her close to him, craning his neck with a lopsided sly smile, "Hold me hand." 

"If you insist." She nods with a grin slipping her fingers over his palm and he wovens them with his own with a firm grip stepping inside the train and helps her to do so with his free hand behind her head. 

She sighs. Sitting with her back pressed against the window of the train. One leg folded and other dangling from the seat as she stares at Harry with a pouty smile. 

"Don't ya think you're sittin' too far away from me?" He says, grabbing her knee, "Come here." And slides her towards himself now their thighs overlapping. He doesn't like even the mere distance between them —-- might sound sappy but he wants to be like her scent. 

"Happy?" She pinches his cheek and he winces dramatically ruffling her already loose tresses of hair making her look as if she was on a roller coaster minutes ago, "aren't you a one clingy bunny!" She huffs trying to blow away the hair falling in her eyes. He bobs his head in agreement and slings his elbow around her shoulders to tuck her under his chin protectively. 

// 

"Okie, now add some sugar in it —- aish slow down …" She coughs waving away the sugar dust tickling her nostrils as Harry poured so much sugar all at once. He has his chin rested on her head and her hips crooned against his thighs as they make the strawberry and vanilla mochi together. 

His puffer jacket on her shoulders (To the time they went to buy grocery stuff it started being cold and Harry being a mommy he took out his jacket and bundled her up in it) —- She sneezes and he quips pecking her hair, "Bless your heart." Fetches her a tissue too. 

"Thank you, bubs." She giggles grabbing his jaw bringing him down to smooch a kiss to his lips. She pulls back but he persists snaking his palm around the nape of her neck to keep her put —- she gives in with her heart fluttering like candle flame in a destructive storm. 

Turns in his embrace and hooks her elbows behind his head patching tiny, tiny, tiny pecks on his pillowy lips until he gets desperate to kiss her mouth and tongue pushing her to his front by gliding his hand into the back-pocket of her jeans. 

Her head lulls. Feeling as if the kitchen got filled with candy clouds floating around her when he cradles her cheeks in his both palms lapping at her bottom lip and nips at it with every whimper of desire that falls, "Mine." He breathes out rubbing the bridge of his nose up and down her cheek like a puppy nuzzling into his favourite plushie. 

"Yours." She says without any hesitation. 

He smashes his wet lips back on hers. Swirls of gleeful colours surrounding them as he feels like he could kiss her forever. 

She gasps gazing down lustfully at his wine cherried lips when he holds her from waist and sits her on the wooden counter, "I want you to take me." She murmurs nailing at the silk of his top and he paws at her hip-bones cravingly, it makes her feel like one the most desired women alive. 

"I'm all yours to pleasure you lovie'," He looks her in the eyes with so much love and affection it melts her whole, "Just ask me and I'll give me girl what she wants …. " He says trailing sloppy kisses down her throat. Her head falls against the tiled wall giving him more access to her skin --- so he could mark her as he wishes. 

The heat from his mouth to her bare skin arouses her to an extent she feels wetness sticking to the insides of her thighs with each grind of his crotch against her's. 

She tugs at the roots of his curls, mouth parted around a moan when he grazes his touch over her plump breasts, "Is this okay?" He asks breathlessly and she bobs her head vigorously latching onto him. 

"Yes, please, more … " He blinks to let reality sink in when she raises her arms in the air for him to get rid of her clothes. 

He smiles. Hard. Crinkles forming by his eyes and cheery lines around his mouth as she looks up at him with those doe eyes glinting with his own reflection. 

She squirms grumpily and he cackles loudly when she hooks his fingers into the hem of her jeans as a sign that "just undress me right now and fuck me hard over this counter." But, the romantic sap he's just keeps on being a tease. 

"Fuck me already." She huffs locking her ankles behind his back. 

"Trust me, I want it as bad as y'do but are you sure —-- " 

"I'm --- just fuck …. " She cuts him off, cupping his cheeks and kisses his mouth. He groans when she sucks his swollen lip in between his teeth and lifts her pelvis grinned against his swell lining in his trouser to elaborate her neediness through actions, 

He undresses her finally folding them and putting them away nicely while she stays a breathless mess just in her undies, her sheer panties soaked in her juices and profanities of moans fuses into air from both of them as Harry places his hands on her knees. Irises darkening with lust when he looks at the delicate lines of her drippy pussy lips forming from underneath the material. 

"Spread your legs, I want to feel how turned on I made you feel." His voice an obscene grunt and it tingles her core making her feel she should obey him, "Fuckin' hell." His moan is dirty as he rubs the pad of his long digits against her soaked centre. His piercing gaze flitting between her thighs crumbled her in the best way possible. 

She fists the hem of his top, tugging at it with the blabbering of his name. 

A series of pornographic whines leaves her through her nose when he demands her to raise her bum so he could get rid of the last thing being a bother to them. 

"Oh my — " She arches her spine when his fingers withered in her stickiness, between her glistening pussy lips to her mound pinching her clitoris in the way and listens to the soapy noises he's creating while lathering his hand with her juices he'd love more to coat his tongue with. 

"This is what you want, hmm? For me to bend you over this counter right fucking now and pump me thick cock inside your sweet cunt from behind till you're screaming for me to ram harder inside you, so deep that you feel me in your little tummy and I keep it there for hours making you cum on it again and again — many time that you're milky and cramped around my prick like a filthy girl you're." He dips his impossibly sweet pink tongue inside her mouth and makes her sip down his dirty words through her throat not letting her mewls slip out as his lengthy finger slicks inside her causing her melt against his chest with a turmoil of emotions and heat she never felt before. 

Her brain whirles with the mantra of fuckfuckfuck but her guppy lips says otherwise, she coils her arms around his shoulders scratching her nails down his neck — eyes rolling back as she shakes with the build of ecstasy. 

"You're so snug and warm, sweets. Can't wait to be inside you." He husks curling his digit to give her upper wall a good rub, "Harry!" Her scream comes out gruff vibrating with a sexy octave. 

"Yes, baby." He pinches her chin between his thumb and forefinger staining soft wet kisses from the corner of her lips, to her rosy cheeks and down her throat sewing love bites along her veins.

"Does it feel good, hmm? 'M g'na stuff you full of my prick bet it'll make you feel like heavens --" Her brows tenses up as he forces her to keep her eyes locked with his's and groans with the throb in his cock bound to implode with each whimper of his name she lets out hiking up her knees on the counter — the heels of her feet sticking firmly against the edge of the counter giving a carnally pleasing view for him to enjoy and ooze with sticky precum. 

He huffs out breathily, fingers sliding in and out at a fast pace while he moves down to take her perky nipple between his teeth teasing it with nip of his tongue, "Fuck. Mhmm baby I've so many dirty things to d'to you, would you be an atta girl and be naughty with me?" He nuzzles his curls against her skin grinding his knuckles up and down against her swollen clit. 

"Yes, yes, yes." She moans trying to sink impossibly deep on his fingers. He admires her in amusement as her belly twists into ripples and she thrashes in his tight hold —- broken into pieces of vulnerability foxily. 

He withers his gaze to where he's driving his fingers roughly inside her and a cold shiver runs down his spine, eyelashes fluttering and he sucks his bottom lip brutally praising her softly, "yes just like that darling taking my fingers so good —- they'll look pretty down your throat too while I'll fill your other holes with me, all me." He wraps a hand around her throat giving it a light squeeze and it was enough to spread warmth and the saccharine feeling of fullness in her every tissue gushing over his fingers. 

"You're mine." He growls nipping at her sweet spot –-- wearing her out with his continuous different motions inside her. His wrist glistening with her come and her head lulls on his tanned shoulder, eyes slip shut, chest levitating with shallow breaths. 

She cups his cheeks wrapping her trembling legs around his waist and kisses his smile, it's sloppy and barely a kiss with their lazy effort to keep their mouths on each other to soak into intimacy. 

Next they're a moaning and crying mess on the kitchen floor with her knee hooked around his hip to keep him close as he stretches her out leaving a pleasurable burn against her squishy inviting walls. 

His cock sits warm inside her pussy and his balls snug against her bum. It's torturous waiting for her to give a signal that he might move because he couldn't resist but to be rock hard inside her and fuck her for hours but his knees are laughing at him for being unable to bear the sting of cold tiles. 

"You can move, 'm okay." She whispers hugging him for dear life and he nods grinding his hips slowly, the bulbous head of his dick hitting all the right spots —- he's so good at fucking. 

He takes her fleshy tits in his palms caressing them with each lewd stroke of his cock inside her and treats her glistening lips from his spit back to his mouth, pecking it generously. 

"Pull me hair." He groans pushing hard and guides her hand into his swirl of sweaty curls — hips stuttering, eyes rolling back into his skull erotically when she does so peppering loving kisses under his earlobe, "You're g'na ruin me lovie … fuck me please." He whines grabbing her ass and lifts her pelvis to slide inside her dripping pussy with much more roughness. 

She has never seen him like this. Shredded to seams for her, sweat beading down his gorgeous face like glimmer of pearls and eyes mossed with so much lust and desperation it knocks air out of her lungs. 

He rolls them over gently and her squeal turns into a shameless yawp when he feels much more bigger than before inside her with her being on top of him —- he was right she could feel him in her tummy. 

She's clueless what to do. Not that she's gonna show it –- she doesn't want to give him an impression that she knows barely anything about riding but the way she begins with zealous back and forth movement digging the heels of her palms against his pecks wrecks him havoc. 

"You're doin' so good pet, yes, yes, yes. Use me baby. Use me like your little fuck toy 'm c'mon." He grabs the nape of her neck and brings her down to skim his tongue over her lips, manipulating the plushiness of them with his teeth. His balls slapping against her skin as she bounces on his cock diligently and he fists the soft flesh of her bum with both of his hands to help her ride him knows she's labouring herself out, "I'm all yours." He says caressing her sides to make sure she's okay and brushes the wisp of sticky hair behind her ear. 

"You're looking so sexy sitting on my dick like that -- how about I don't allow you to cum so you could keep me warm with your pussy like that fo' hours?" His pants out gripping at her thighs as his prick spills with wetness inside her and she cries out shaking, "No!" He smirks crinkled forming by his eyes and takes this chance to drive hard up inside her making her flop onto his chest. 

She gasps moistly, pulsating around him feeling every ridge and vein of his cock stroking against her walls creating obscene noises of skin meeting skin and their moistures mixing soapily like gooe.

"Cum fo' me baby -- squeezing me s' tight. I know you're there." His pants laboured and heavy as he sucks his own digits coating them with his spit nicely and glides them down pressing them to her weeping bud, then flickers it in prolong circles. Toes curling. His thrusts consistent and fast. She crooks her nose against his's murmuring to him with a wavering voice. 

"I'm gonna cum, fuck." 

"You're gonna make me come." 

Her eyes widen in surprise but her body reacts otherwise albeit she has never experienced it —- but her moans were uncontrollable when he spanked her butt cheek and she crampied down at him jolting tremendously with the wave of insanity spreading to her bones.

"I'm a naughty boy, give it to me." He kisses his teeth together man spreading and throwing his knees up to ram up inside her perfectly.

His eyes shuts till he could see white spotting behind them -- he spills inside her in form of thick ribbons and milks her cunt with it riding her out of her high. She clings to his body and snuggles into him to tone down the shivers running down her spine with each tiny orgasm she feels rushing out with his lazy thrusts.

"I'm jello." She tells him and he looks down at her with a mishevious grin, "Does that give me a reason to eat you whole?" She rolls her eyes poking at his cheek with a grossed out expression. 

"I'm still inside ye', remember?" He stirs his hips to make her realise and she yelps not know if it's making her feel hot or utterly sensitive, "You're insatiable." She mumbles pouting her lips to indicate him she's dying for his lips to smooch kisses to her. 

"No kidding I love the noises you make when you come undone." She confesses timidly drawing stars at his chest and he giggles kissing her temple gently, "Stop before you wake me buddy up again –- he quite fond of you." He blushes hiding his face into the crook of her neck with tiny voice. 

// 

They're canoodling under the fluffy blanket on the sofa watching telly after they just took a bath together, shampooing eachother with peach scents and drying eachother off with warm towels. She's nuzzled into his side wearing one of his baby yellow robes, his arm stays around her shoulder thumb addicted to caressing her silky cheek, sometimes spreading his fingers down her throat to tip her chin up to smooch sweet kisses on her lips.

"You're cute when you're not a pest." She giggles and he frowns comically pretending to munch her alive, "That's very rude -- you should be thankful that I lov — " Her heart almost stops functioning. 

They were sipping onto their green teas and nibbling onto the strawberry mochi they made and refrigerated before when the doorbell rang making them groan in laziness.

She stood up going to see what took Harry so long on the door and got revealed to him talking instinctively to whoever rang the bell. 

"Hi, Y/N." Scottie smiles at him. Carrying her luggage and Y/N looks down at her attire for a second then forwards her hand shyly. She was so scared that day –- it's a blur to her but now she watches Scottie properly she realizes …. She's the same girl from all the paparazzi photos.

Something switches off inside her. The rainbows and confettis, the moonlight and stars and the nebula of the whole galaxy she had consumed in her little body from making love to Harry just shuts down into a white noise.

Her bottom lip plumps into a pout. Eyebrows trembling from this confused feeling of some invisible thing squeezing the life out of her. 

She's jealous. 

"I just came here to say bye." Scottie's voice makes her focus back into reality. 

"Oh…" She just nods. She doesn't return the hug even though her brain guilt trips her for that and when Scottie leaves with the air thick and tense, Harry corners her in between a wall and piece of furniture cradling her grumpy face in his careful palms speaking gently to her. 

"You don't 'ave to worry 'bout her, she's just a friend …. Infact you don't have to worry 'bout anyone because I love you so so much baby that I don't see myself spending me life with anyone else." She glances up at him twice, jaw falling slack from shock and he chuckles smothering her in kind-hearted kisses when she stares at him like a hawk. 

"You what!?" 

"I love you, Y/N." Her eyes closing like a moth flapping nearer to fire and finding peace in burning inside it. 

"I love you too so much." She whispers and welcomes his lips melting against her ardently. With the passion only lovers hold. Amiability she couldn't find anyone else but in his embrace, in his kisses and his lovemaking. 

"Can we go back to cuddlin'? Me feet gettin' cold baby." He whines treading fastly into the living room while carrying her like a kitten from behind and makes squeaky noises once snoozed under the warmth of the blanket. 

He touches their foreheads. Kissing the tip of her nose adorably. 

"I love you." Then burst into giggles. When she returns the passion coyly. 

"I love you too." 

[leagueoflegendsimagines]

Hello, love your work! May I request SFW + NSFW headcannons for Zed?

As a disclaimer, the difference in age between Zed and the reader isn't too great. Around 7 or 8 years - and by the time their relationship starts, the reader is a young adult. Around 20 years old.

Second disclaimer: this is a very long post. I apologize to anon for that.

SFW:

- You met Zed in a very unexpected way and, truth to be told, you never imagined that you two might ever become lovers.

- You became a honorific member of the Order of Shadows because Zed was indebted to your parents. As strong political figures in the world of Ionia, they had helped him and his Order many times - standing by his side from the dark, misty shadows of the councils. Supporting his cause.

- When they died - assassinated, nonetheless - you were heartbroken. But, as their only child, you were sent to the safest place in Ionia: Zed's sanctuary.

- Zed silently mourned the tragic death of your parents. And while he could hardly swallow the fact that such a young girl - barely a woman - would live in his order, it was the least he could do for your deceased mother and father.

- The first time he saw you... he felt a pang of shock and nostalgia. As a child, you looked identical to your mother. But now... now you looked like neither of your parents.

- No, you looked like your grandmother. A woman full of prestige and respect in the whole land. A woman Zed had always respected with his whole devotion. Willing to fight for Ionia until her very last drop of blood - a dignified and incredibly strong woman, both in body and soul.

- Physically, you did look like her. But... ah, yes. The determination and steel in your eyes. Yes, you shared the same spirit as her.

- Maybe that's why Zed took such a high interest in you. Maybe that's why he started, little by little, to care for you more than he should've ever allowed himself to.

- As time passed, you started opening yourself more to him - and to the members of the order.

- You had vowed to avenge your parents, no matter what. You had a strong character - but, at the same time, you were as gentle as the first rays of dawn and as brilliant as the sun of a bright July afternoon.

- You exhaled spring and summer. You were a breath of pure, refreshing air in the dark, hallowed hallways of Zed's home.

- For the order, you were a direct example of the things they were fighting for. In you, they saw every young girl or woman of Ionia, wishing for a brighter and better future - innocent as the melting snow of a late spring.

- Zed didn't keep you under a lock in the order. He would take you to the vast hills, forests and waterfalls to be found outside of the grim labyrinth he dedicated his life to.

- He spent so many hours watching you harvest the bounty of summer and autumn. With a white summer dress and that wide straw hat you would wear you looked like an innocent, sinful delight.

- Zed realized too late that his platonic desire to watch you slowly turned into brewing lust.

- It came to his mind one August evening as he watched you from underneath an old tree. He kept a close eye on you, admiring your sun kissed skin in contrast to the yellow dress you were wearing. It only made everything else brighter. Your eyes, your smile. The rainbow of gentle, soft colors in your hair, shining like precious stones under the sun.

- When he caught the shiver of lust wrecking his body, he recoiled in repulsion.

- Repulsion directed to his own person.

- You were his friends' daughter.

- How could he even think of you as a woman?

- Of course, he was well aware of your beauty. You ravished the heart of one too many disciples. They wouldn't even dare to make a move - you were Zed's most prized protege.

- Not even Kayn dared say anything about you - in his absence or presence.

- After all, Zed had eyes and ears everywhere.

- From then on, Zed became distant. Cold.

- You figured it out fairly quickly. As innocent as you were, you knew the power of your own charms. The power of your youth.

- You didn't have to be a beauty or an incredibly attractive woman - you only had to be yourself. And that was enough.

- Your smile, your youthful energy... it ravished him.

- Oh, how he longed to bask in your light - to enjoy the gentle sun of youth in your presence. You were a sun to him, warming up his calloused heart.

- For your young age, you were incredibly intuitive and sensitive to the energy of those around you. And, of course, you easily felt the effect you had on him.

- After all, it was quite similar to the effect you had on his students. But... it left you confused. Vulnerable. So similar, yet so different.

- Things were different with him. While you wouldn't have minded the shameless flirt with one disciple or another, only to burst into a childish smile full of radiance and leave them yearning for more as you ran outside to play or dance your worries away - with Zed things were so tense and...

- You couldn't really describe it. You didn't know what Zed would do, after all. What would happen if you flirted with him?

- Would he scold you the way he did when you trained with him? Would he accept it? Would he give in?

- You shivered at the thought of how he might react. When he allowed you to go to visit the few female friends you had in nearby villages - always followed in the shadows by him or the guards he assigned you, of course - you would hear so many stories. You had a vague idea of what love meant for a woman. Or... what to expect. But you were too innocent to know the full extent of it.

- Yet, you felt lust. Zed was a dominant and strong man. It was hard not to, as you grew older and older until you reached your ripest moment of youth. It was hard to not observe or admire him with the eyes of a woman.

- One of your friends once called him delicious.

- You couldn't help but agree.

- Your slow dance around each other came to an end one late October evening.

- It had been a cold, rainy day. As such, you spent it inside the Order's headquarters, reading and lazing around with your novels. As you got bored, you moved in silence to Zed's study.

- He knew you were sneaking in - but he never said anything to scold or push you away.

- You were his one guilty weakness, after all. The only one he could afford.

- Zed did it only because he knew you would be safer with him than with anyone else in this world.

- As you sneaked in, you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders the way you always did. But this time... this time, things would be different. For a moment, you briefly wondered if he could feel your erratic heartbeat.

- But as no objection came from him, you leaned to look over his shoulder with a hum. "You're working too much." He only answered to you with a soft tap on the paper - a warning.

- With a bold move, you slipped into his lap with an apologetic smile. "You should work less now - and pay more attention to me instead."

- You felt him grow stiff under your soft weight. Surprised. Shocked. Caught unaware. You knew how much Zed hated it - but you couldn't sit around doing nothing. Not anymore.

- "You have grown very spoiled, little sun." You heard him grit his teeth, a low growl in his voice. A very obvious and threatening warning. You were pushing him too far.

- Still, what would happen if he were to break?

- So you did it.

- You shifted your position to a more daring one, your warm thighs enveloping his lap in a bold statement. Maybe this shocked him too much into stillness. Maybe this is why he didn't move in the slightest as you took off his mask - and pressed a soft kiss on his pale, cold lips.

NSFW:

- Unsurprisingly, your action killed Zed inside. He wasn't a person to chase physical pleasure. When he reached a point of frustration, he would find one or two willing women to quench his lust - no emotions, no second meetings.

- But you were different. You were something to be loved and cherished. You were... innocent. Pure.

- Maybe not so innocent - that was his impression as he looked down on you with angry, dilated pupils. As much as you tried to cower under his unnerving glance, as much as you tried to look innocent... you knew it wouldn't work on him.

- You also knew that, no matter what might happen next, you wouldn't regret it.

- You only hoped it would help settle the fire between your thighs, so closely and intimately pressed to his.

- What you didn't expect was the tight grip on your shoulders, pushing you back against his desk until he was above you - a whimper escaping your lips as his hot, throbbing pelvis pressed between your quivering thighs. Your rumpled dress left your legs exposed, vulnerable. It almost made you feel ashamed.

- "I believe someone is feeling their age a bit too much." His heated words, right next to your ear, made your breath hitch. It sent almost painful shivers down your body, warming your flesh down to your toes.

- Even for his solitary life, Zed was still a very experienced man. He was a perfectionist. He would always be an expert in everything he did - combat, reading people or pleasing his partners.

- As such, he knew how to read you like an open book.

- He also knew how to drive you crazy.

- If you wanted him, so be it.

- But he would make you earn it. And he would make you pay for being a little brat with him.

- "Do you think I'm one of my students, little sun? Do you think I'll accept your teasing and let you run away?" He watched you shake your head with a teary daze in your bright eyes. Yes, the lust was getting to you. And as he rolled his hips against you with a strength and force only he possessed, he realized it was getting to his head as well - more rapidly so as he heard your stifled, confused little moan.

- "Or do you want something more? Is that why you've been looking with those hungry eyes at me these past months? Is that why you're more focused on staring at my body than learning proper combat?" Another roll - another moan from your innocent, untouched rosy lips. It sent such delicious ripples of pleasure down his spine.

- "Do you truly want to know how a man feels? Do you think you're prepared for that?" Your spine arched painfully against him - and Zed didn't waste the opportunity to wrap his strong arm around your body, biting down almost painfully on your shoulder.

- You were a shivering mess in his arms, almost crazy with lust and desire.

- And nothing had ever felt more like home than the moment when he filled you so deeply with his cock, driving into you like a man dying of thirst - or the moment you rested your head on his shoulder, wrapped in his warmth and security. Safe. Home.

- He was your home.

- At that point, Zed knew he couldn't let you go. Not until you would push him away mercilessly.

- Until then, he would always be by your side.

- In lovemaking, Zed is a very dominant man. He enjoys your innocence and youth. He enjoys how small you are or how well you fit in his arms. There's nothing he adores more than holding your hands above your head or behind your back, fucking you roughly into the soft and almost luxurious covers of his bed.

- There's nothing he enjoys more than hearing your almost pained moans, feeling you quiver in intense, almost overwhelming pleasure.

- He is quite a large man - but by the time he gives in to your desire, you would be more than ready for him. He always takes his time with foreplay, prolonging it and frustrating you to no end.

- He adores edging you. Bringing you to the brink of orgasm time after time after time - only to offer you, with his cock, the satisfaction you desire.

- You will never feel lacking when it comes to your sex life. And while you do have your own problems, like every couple, Zed has enough wisdom and experience to deal with them in a mature and calm manner - and to show you the way to do so as well.

[jasmine-iroh]

Sparring Partners

Pairing: Zuko x f!reader

WC: 2.5K

A/N: howdyyyy I’ll be honest idk what this is besides self satisfactory fluff oops. send in some requests pls, I’m bored as heck!

Never let (Y/N) and Zuko spar.

That was an unspoken rule on Team Avatar after Zuko joined the group. The group had witnessed the aftermath of their practicing one too many times; angry gatherings of flames licking at the bark of uprooted trees scattered around piles of rubble and burnt grass.

Simply put, the pair were a force of nature. That wasn’t the reason they weren’t allowed to fight, though. No, nobody really paid much mind to their destructive tendencies, as long as they weren’t too close to camp.

It was their moods after the fight was done that brought about the rule.

Zuko would slink away to his tent and brood, grumbling at anyone who ventured too close to him. (Y/N) would stay with the group, a grin stuck to her face the whole time. It wasn’t a smile that put anyone at ease, though. It was feral, the snapping teeth and predatory curl of her lips more suited to a big cat than a young girl. Even Katara, who was usually found near (Y/N)’s side, avoided sitting too close.

(Y/N) was never mean to the others, but she had a razor sharp edge to her for hours after the duel that made Aang shift nervously in his seat and Sokka focus more on being the meat guy than the sarcasm guy. Suki would stay on edge until it was finally time to split up into their individual tents. Her fighting instincts would be on alert at the scent of scorched earth coming from (Y/N), a completely different smell from the smoke from the campfire.

Zuko, of course, would be the one to start said campfire. There was a tense, almost shy set to his shoulders as the weight of wild eyes bore down on him from near Toph. Toph, incidentally, never seemed to mind the rumbling of thunder in (Y/N)’s voice after a fight with Zuko, or the way Zuko’s heart beat staggered whenever (Y/N) so much as walked past him.

Toph didn’t care if the pair sparred, as long as it would get them over their timid dance around camp. She thought it was an entertaining break in the monotony of training and hiding, and the feeling of (Y/N) earthbending with such raw emotion was as sappy as any romance story there was. It was truly hilarious to her that nobody else could connect the dots between the unbridled chaos of their fighting and their quiet moments together around a campfire.

**

It had been a few days since the last incident when Toph finally decided to ask (Y/N) what their deal was during a training session.

“So, what’s up with you and Sifu Hotman?” She asked, a slightly maniacal laugh falling past her lips when she managed to catch (Y/N) off guard and nail her in the side with a boulder. Toph had taken to using Aang’s ridiculous nickname after she realized how quickly she could get under Zuko’s skin with it. Payback for Zuko burning her feet, she had justified.

Coughing and sputtering from the blow, (Y/N) tried to deflect the question with a volley of rocks she’d been keeping suspended in the air long enough for Toph to half lose track of.

“Hey, that’s cheating!” Toph huffed indignantly, dodging the attack before shifting her feet and sending the slab of earth below (Y/N) tilting sideways.

“No, I just saw a weakness and used it,” (Y/N) laughed and leapt from her crumbling perch to position herself in the middle of the sparring area, knowing that Aang, Zuko, Suki, and Sokka were somewhere behind her. Toph wasn’t stupid, she knew (Y/N) was trying to get into a position that would make Toph go easier on her with their friends in the line of fire.

Oh (Y/N), you really think you’re clever, don’t you? Toph thought with a smirk as a plan formed in her mind, pressing her knuckles into the dirt and twisting them sharply. She felt (Y/N)’s growl before she heard it, knowing that the other girl hated when Toph locked her feet into the earth. This time, though, she kept her hold on the rock, sitting down and waiting for (Y/N) to answer her original question.

“Toph, c’mon!” (Y/N) whined, trying to free herself as Toph sat a few meters away laughing.

“Just tell me and I’ll let you go!” Toph called back, bending herself a chair from the earth with one hand while the other kept it’s grip on the rocks around (Y/N)’s ankles.

“You’re such a little jerk,” (Y/N) answered instead, looking around for something to help her. She was weak without being able to use her feet as her center, something Toph had been hounding her about forever.

“I thought best friends told each other everything,” Toph mocked as she felt the others stop fighting to watch the scene in front of them.

“Yeah, but you also told me you’d throw me off Appa because I took Momo’s seat last week,” (Y/N) replied, crossing her arms stubbornly. Toph was a stronger bender, but (Y/N) had more patience, knowing Toph could get bored or frustrated pretty quickly. That’s how they’d always been, ever since (Y/N) had been sent to live with her helpless, blind little cousin all those years ago.

“What’s going on?” Aang asked the pair, scootering over on a ball of air with a peeved looking Zuko trailing behind him.

“(Y/N)’s keeping secrets from me and acting like I won’t find out,” Toph accused, watching as Suki and Sokka joined the group. Katara, who had been assigned camp duties for the day, drew closer at the lack of fighting sounds.

“Toph,” (Y/N) warned, a sharp threat in her voice as the sound of a tree being pulled up at the roots echoed around the clearing as (Y/N) clenched her fists.

“Yes?” A challenge in her voice, her fist twisting further into the earth and sinking (Y/N) up to her waist in tightly compressed rocks.

“Enough.” Zuko stepped in between the pair, and Toph couldn’t help but notice the spike in his heart rate when (Y/N) dropped up to her shoulders in rock.

“Zuko, stay out of this. Toph’s just being a pain,” (Y/N) huffed, having a hard time breathing with the merciless press of dirt and rock around her chest.

He didn’t stay out of it of course, his heart beating faster than a bird's wings as he watched (Y/N) struggle in the ground. Toph thought the duo were nauseatingly oblivious.

She let out a frustrated growl and slammed her foot on the ground, sending Zuko sprawling flat out next to (Y/N) and encasing his hands and feet in earth.

“Fine. You can both stay here until one of you tells me, then.” Toph declared before standing and walking away from the pair. The rest of the group looked from Toph back down to their friends buried in the ground, and decided that maybe they didn’t want to end up stuck next to the pair. They walked off, promising to talk to Toph and have her fix this.

“Spirits, she’s such a little bastard,” (Y/N) mumbled, turning her head to look at Zuko. She blinked in shock, not expecting his face to be quite so close to hers. A tricky little bastard, the girl amended in her head.

“What were you two fighting about?” Zuko asked quietly, not having to speak much above a whisper with their proximity. Had his eyes always been so golden?

“She asked about what was going on between us,” (Y/N) answered, closing her eyes and turning her head away from him towards the sky. The sun pressed red kisses against her closed eyelids while the breeze played with her hair, making her feel for a moment that she was laid out next to Zuko in a spring meadow by choice instead of locked into the dirt by Toph.

“What did you tell her?” He kept his voice low, tone conspiratorial. He stared at (Y/N), the sun loving her throat and pressing kisses to her cheekbones. He thought, just for a moment, that Toph had done him a favor by locking him into this view.

A laugh, and then, “I didn’t tell her anything.”

“Why not?” He prodded, wishing (Y/N) would turn her head so he could… could what? He thought to himself, images of him wiggling closer and closing the distance between them flickering in his mind without warning. A warm blush crept up his neck at the thoughts, wishing he wasn’t so affected by their proximity.

“Because sometimes you need to let Toph think she holds all the cards so she’s a little less of a pain in the ass. And so she wouldn’t question what we really do when we spar,” (Y/N) whispered, opening her eyes and turning to face Zuko. She met his amber gaze immediately, a grin pulling at her mouth as she leaned closer to him, feeling the heat radiating off his body.

“Oh, you mean that thing where you torment me with your comments all day around camp and then try to play innocent when we’re alone?” Zuko huffed with a smile as he wormed his way closer.

“Hey, don’t get mad. I just saw a weakness and used it,” (Y/N) giggled as she leaned in towards him. Her gaze flickered briefly from Zuko’s eyes, to his lips, and then back to his eyes in a way that made him feel like the ground was falling out from under him. He leaned up to meet her halfway, falling just short of being able to seal their lips together. A soft groan from (Y/N) pulled a chuckle from Zuko’s throat, before his head flopped back down onto the packed earth.

“Such a little bastard,” he heard (Y/N) mutter a moment before her face contorted and rumbling from around them was heard.

Zuko’s hands and legs were freed from their earthen prison, letting him roll away only a second before (Y/N) rose up from her hole on a pillar of earth. She hopped down gracefully and brushed her clothes off before helping Zuko to his feet, that wild look back in her eyes.

“You couldn’t have done that earlier?” Zuko asked, brushing the dirt out of his hair.

“I can put you back, if you’d like,” (Y/N) hummed, stepping closer to him and giving him that sharp grin that sent his stomach fluttering.

“I’m fine right here, thank you,” he replied, a deep blush staining his cheeks as (Y/N) pulled him close and finally, finally, pressed her lips to his own in a slow kiss. He returned the kiss eagerly, loving the warmth of her hand cupping his jaw with gritty fingers as the other tangled in Zuko’s mop of hair.

The pillar she’d used to free herself moments before was now scraping against his back as (Y/N) traced a lazy trail of kisses along Zuko’s jaw. He let out a sound that was suspiciously close to a whimper and felt a thrill go up his spine at the glint of absolute trouble reflected in (Y/N)’s eyes when she pulled away.

“How long do you think we have until they realize we’re not stuck anymore?” She pondered, pressing delicate kisses up the side of Zuko’s throat and along the edges of his scar.

“Enough time to get a head start and cover our tracks.” His eyes moved deliberately to the forest away from camp, before flicking back to hers with a bashful quirk of his eyebrow. His breaths trembling, he tried to ignore how his nerve endings were alight with the feeling of (Y/N)’s lips on his skin.

“Very tempting, but I don’t feel like listening to Mother Katara yell at us for ‘running off and worrying the group,’” (Y/N) whispered back, pressing a kiss to Zuko’s chin before moving to pull away. His arms snaked around her waist quickly, locking her against him.

(Y/N)’s brows shot up in pleasant surprise at his actions. She had been the one to make moves from the start, more accustomed to touch that wasn’t soured by pain or anger. Zuko figured she’d like to have more physical affection from him, but the long nights spent untangling his emotions in return for a kiss were enough to keep her happy and moving at his pace. Zuko had been without a loving hand to hold for so long that he forgot how simple and sweet an embrace could be, how the pad of a thumb rubbing across bruised knuckles could soothe his aches better than any balm.

Feeling bold between the column of earth and (Y/N), Zuko leaned down to her height and pressed a gentle kiss against her lips, retreating before she could respond. The girl only grinned widely, wrapping her arms around his muscular torso. A puff of air left Zuko’s lungs as he was pulled into her strong arms, before tightening his own arms around her waist and pressing his face into the crook of her neck.

“We have to at least make Toph think nothing’s changed, or we’ll never hear the end of how she’s so right and it's everyone else who is really blind,” (Y/N) told him, pitching her voice in Toph’s bratty little sister voice she used when she won arguments.

“Let her. I’m tired of not being able to be like this whenever we want,” Zuko replied, his warm breath against the side of her neck sending a wave of goosebumps over (Y/N)’s skin. It shocked her in the most pleasant way possible to hear him say that to her, since they’d agreed to keep things quiet until he could figure out his emotions.

“Alright, but don’t say I didn’t warn you when she makes you wish you were hard of hearing,” (Y/N) laughed, nudging his head back up to face her. Her senses were filled with Zuko, the smell of smoke filling her nose as the heat from his body scorched a pattern into her heart. Their noses brushed once, twice; their lips a breath apart.

Before either could close the distance, Toph marched around their column of rock, almost slamming straight into them. In a breath, she was gone again, back the way she’d come.

“I knew it, I was so right! You losers are so blind!” She shouted to the others.

Her sudden appearance had shocked the pair apart, making (Y/N) quirk an eyebrow and pulling a rare grin from Zuko at the astounding accuracy of (Y/N)’s impression of Toph.

“Just remember, you brought this upon yourself,” (Y/N) laughed, turning to walk back to camp. Zuko’s hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, reeling her back in towards him so he could seal a lingering kiss against her mouth.

“I know, but that was worth it,” he hummed, walking alongside her back to camp, their fingers tangling together without a second thought.

[fragilevixenfic]

My AO3 Fanfiction Links (Current)

“I’ve never really thought about making a “Master List” of my own work but I figured, now is the time to do so. If any of the links are incorrect just let me know. I fix. 

Adding in a “keep reading” tab because the list is starting to get long and intense.

Each fic is categorized and easily referenced. I’ll update as I go.

X Files

Series

Into The Shadows

XII (COMPLETE): A serial killer targets victims and leaves behind symbols of his affection -- but who is his intended target and what will it take to discover the truth? (This has a lot of trigger warnings)

Dance In The Dark (ONGOING Chapters 12/? Posted **UPDATED):  With the continuing murder trial of Miles, Mulder, Scully, and Max are confronted by the VCU with a case that seems to be mimicking the pattern by their, now infamous, psychopath on trial.

Echoes and Whispers

Parallel (COMPLETE):  The aftermath of the three little words that Mulder says to Scully in his hospital bed after being rescued from the Queen Anne as it re-appeared in the Bermuda Triangle...and the strange connection that Scully starts to feel to a memory that Scully couldn't possibly have.

Only The Night (ONGOING):  Mulder and Scully begin their undercover assignment as an engaged couple with the assistance of Skinner at the University of Maryland to catch a serial rapist, putting their newly formed physical bond to the test in this sequel to “Parallel”.

Casefics

Falling Away (COMPLETE):  Kersh’s assignment partially splits the team as Scully goes undercover under the watchful eye of Mulder as they both assist on an operation with SWAT and FBI personnel. (A gift for Greta)

Veritas se revēlet (COMPLETE):  (The title is roughly translated to let the truth be revealed in Latin) An impromptu wild goose chase leads Mulder and Scully to the drifts of a winter-locked Tonopah, Nevada—where a little more than the embodiment of Mulder’s imagination takes shape between the walls of the Mizpah Hotel in the dead of winter. (A gift for @monikafilefan)

She Walks at Night (COMPLETE):  Mulder’s knack for getting himself and Scully into sticky situations leads them to the heart of NOLA at the tail end of Hurricane season after barely surviving a Floridian storm—to investigate a rumor of a notable Voodoo Queen and missing girls trying to bring her back. (A gift for @starbuck09256)

Intrigues in the Dark (COMPLETE):   A string of suicides leads Mulder and Scully to a sleepy, coastal town in Oregon for the second time—on their return to The X File—as tensions run high and nothing is as it seems. (A gift for @admiralty-xfd)

By Light, Unseen (COMPLETE):   A series of re-opened cold case murders with one link…they’d been drained of every drop of blood and wore the same, haunting stare toward the sky with their lips aghast as if they were still screaming. (A gift for @serahsanguine)

Post-Series

A House is Not a Home (COMPLETE):  The mere thought of raising a newborn in a world full of horrors has every part of Scully’s emotional irrationality over firing on a chilly, winter evening. Mulder wants nothing more than to show her that not everything is gray and grim. (for @danceswithcybermen)

Remember the Reason (COMPLETE):  Post Series (Part 1 of the “Little Redhead Series”). Mulder and Scully already knew that life with a newborn would be difficult but the first Christmas with their two-month-old daughter throws every curveball…some worse than others, some more humorous. (For @underworldobsessed)

Confectioners Sugar & Snow Drifts (COMPLETE):  Post Series (Part 2 of the “Little Redhead Series”). Mulder spends the morning bonding with Eliana by having a Christmas baking session while Scully is out shopping for gifts. Messes, mayhem, and a healthy dose of laughter ensue. No moment is ever dull as the snow falls outside.

The Easter Bunny was a Fox (COMPLETE):  Post Series (Part 3 of the “Little Redhead” Series). Scully has to pick up Bill, Tara, and a couple of surprise family from the airport, leaving Mulder alone with their 6-year-old daughter, Eliana, on Easter Morning. All she has for him are curiosities as Easter’s non-Christian ideology unfolds before her eyes…creating the most unique bonding opportunity for a father and his daughter. (For Flicked_Switch)

Angst/UST/RST

Caught in the Rain (COMPLETE):  A dark, rainy night leads Mulder and Scully to a hole in the wall bar where glasses of Scotch and unresolved tension is re-visited.

Or We Can Burn (COMPLETE):  Post Never Again - expansion and continuation of the aftermath surrounding what Scully has been hiding from Mulder.

It Lingers (COMPLETE):  The aftermath of trauma and the lingering effects of Mulder’s risky attempt to recover the truth about Samantha’s abduction leads to a revelation from Scully about her own coping mechanisms and flashes into a past she doesn’t fully remember...and the path to which they lead thereafter. (For @red2007)

Fluff/Humor

Nervous Laughter (COMPLETE):  It’s been two full days since their tender, albeit brief, moment at the stroke of midnight and Mulder decides to be brave and methodical by inviting Scully over for a little movie and popcorn night for a film that has stayed locked in his mind as her favorite—The Exorcist. (This is a gift for @rationalcashew)

Lamplight & Shooting Stars (COMPLETE):  It’s Spring-time in DC and spontaneous, mutually taken vacation time has become a personal mission of Mulder’s to surprise Scully with so much more than an escape from their norm—and the unseasonable, uncomfortable city heat. (For @underworldobsessed)

Into the Nightlife (ONGOING):  A little paid vacation time never hurt anyone, right? (Not giving anything away this time)

Smut

Insomniac (COMPLETE):  Another lonely, sleepless night, another dingy motel, and another town that isn’t home for Mulder…but, something changed, with the last gasp of the air conditioner as his partner, and best friend, chooses to walk through the adjoining door. (Expanded writing exercise)

Vultus in Speculo (COMPLETE):  The last of the paperwork on the Strickland case has been finalized and filed and Scully goes off for a drink at a known FBI watering hole. Mulder is invited but doesn’t show up until after Scully is halfway through a drink—giving him an opening to inquire about a whole lot more than her flirtations with the Sheriff in the booth of a rooftop bar. (written for @msrheadcanon

Phosphorescence (COMPLETE):  Still reeling from their experience in North Carolina, Mulder and Scully take a much-needed excursion to the coast of Oregon, where a flicker of light becomes more than a curiosity in the middle of the night. (Written for @anniexami)

The Darker Side of Love (COMPLETE): Mulder does not want to talk but he does not want Scully to leave, either. (This is for the MSR fanzine vol 3)

Ficlets/Drabbles/Short Prompt Collection

Affirmations and Protestations: “Fluff and Angst” Prompts (ONGOING):  

 Chapter 1 - "You Weren't Supposed to Hear That" - prompt #5, 61, 77

Chapter 2 - "Shout!" - prompt #19, 61 (From Valerie)

Chapter 3 - "Litost" - prompt #1, 85, 97 (From Monika)

Chapter 4 - "Ad Infinitum" - prompt #42 (From Minuete)

Chapter 5 - "Brick" - prompt - After Scully calls Mulder in the ep Emily, she asks him to bring her some things from home. Her journal falls to the floor and Mulder sees some things written about him that she has never allowed him to know. (from Monika)

Chapter 6 - "I'd rather be oblivious" - prompt #46 (from Annie)

Criminal Minds

Angst/UST/RST

Dulce Periculum (COMPLETE):  Maxine and Spencer have continued seeing each other, in spite of the interference brought to the surface by Cat Adams. Spencer continues to work closely with the BAU after it nearly dismantled, with signature members scattering to the winds, leaving behind only a few, including himself, to keep working on their caseload. After a long, intense case, Spencer returns home to a little more than a can of worms. (A gift for an anonymous prompter)

Law & Order: Special Victims Unit

Angst/UST/RST

Chasing your Silhouette (COMPLETE):  They’d learned each other’s quirks and intricacies on the job—but when did it become over the line? When did physicality become a detriment to them once they’ve taken off their shields? When did they realize the line in the sand no longer existed? (This is meant to take place a couple weeks after “Zebras” – had to assume a timeline, I don’t remember actual dates)

Paternity Redux - Time Just Stopped (COMPLETE):  Her strength has always been immeasurable—but sometimes, something has to give and a string breaks. Nothing will ever be the same.“I’m trying my best, that is enough.” - UnknownThis is part of a challenge, to right a series of wrongs in an episode that has perpetrated many a discussion of “What Could Have Been”. WriterKC, Liv.Einziger, JustAnotherBookWorm78, MrsWellRested, EORocks, AlexisDawn, ChriskaPeach, and I have stepped up to the plate to do just that.

Oblivion (ONGOING 9/? Chapters posted ***UPDATED***):   The undercover operation in Oregon takes an unexpected, unpleasant turn for Olivia Benson as an injury turns her life, and career, upside-down leaving her with pieces of her memory scattered in the wind.

Humor

Unlock the Door (TENTATIVELY COMPLETE 2/2):   Olivia returns home from a celebratory series of shots with Kim Greylek and lets Elliot Stabler hear a little more than she ever intended to in the aftermath.

Series

Polaroids and Promises (COMPLETE):   The Special Victims Unit has undergone an enormous amount of changes in the past six months, to the point that they are drastically undermanned—until a transfer from the 13th precinct brings new life, and a little chaos, to the team. Will her addition prove to be a permanent shift or a flash in the pan?

Discarded Dignity (COMPLETE):   Elora continues to gain much-needed confidence as a member of the Special Victims Unit but an arrival booked for trespassing, assaulting an officer, and disorderly throws her progress into chaos as her past jumps to the surface. Will she be able to look beyond the misstep to solve one of the most convoluted cases she’s faced? 

Contract Corruption (ONGOING 10/?):   Dickie Stabler and Justin Andrisani are in over their heads--and the members of SVU and the Organized Crime task force must come together in order to set things right.

Law & Order: Special Victims Unit/Organized Crime Crossover

Series

Words of love, words of lies, words of loss

Age of Regret (COMPLETE):  Elliot Stabler has never been good with words but ten years and a double on the rocks in a lonely room will make a man pour his heart out…in any way that he can.

Infidelis (COMPLETE): Elliot had been haunted by too many ghosts; expectations, fantasies, and a promise that he knew should never be kept. It was time to lay them all to rest. “I do not regret you…I regret what you did to me.” - Unknown