#and then got into bed like two hours ago and realized I had inspiration enough to do this

[minisugakoobies]

Cross My Heart | KMG

Pairing: Mingyu x GNReader (afab)

Genre: smut, porn with the barest of plot, friends to lovers (?), non-idol!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: pussy drunk mingyu, late night texting, biting/marking, fingering, lots of flirting, lots of teasing, grinding/dry humping, dirty talk, cunnilingus, face sitting, come eating, hand job, mingyu's a messy boy, OC is needy and mingyu loves it, mingyu has maybe the tiniest bit of a praise kink, use of pet names - pretty, mingyu requests death by pussy

Word Count: 5.2k

Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own SVT - they just inspire me

Summary: Your crush Mingyu wants (to eat) you.

Text Prompt: You: I can’t stand you Mingyu: Then sit on my face

A/N: Hiiiii I'm writing for svt now and I'm starting with Mingyu because he's driving me insane. This is actually the first in a planned series of 13 svt fics based on text prompts. I'm fully in my self-indulgent era, so this is for everyone who, like me, needs some munch 'Gyu right about now 👅

Unbeta'd as usual. If you like this and want more svt fics from me, please let me know! I'd love to hear what you think (but please be kind I'm fragile 🥺) 💕

SVT Masterlist 💜 Main Masterlist

It’s finally here. After months of planning, you and your friends have flown halfway around the world for a week of vacation. The six of you arrived just a few hours ago, and after the long flight, the long wait at the airport for your luggage, and the long drive to the hotel, you’re exhausted. 

Well, mentally you’re worn out, at least. Your body? Is still on your old timezone, where it’s currently tomorrow morning. So it thinks that you need to be awake, even though it’s night where you are. You had stayed awake the entire flight here in order to avoid this very problem. 

Fucking jet lag got you anyway.

Unlike you, Seungcheol and Vernon are having no issue sleeping. The three of you are sharing one room, while Minghao, Wonwoo, and Mingyu are sharing another. You glance over at the two lumps tucked in their beds, snoring away like you would be if your body wasn’t so confused.

Because you’re trying to be a good friend and let them sleep, you’re lying on your bed, scrolling lazily through your various social media apps. You could watch something, but you don’t really have the focus right now. Yet you want something pleasing to look at. Something to mindlessly enjoy while you wait for exhaustion to overwhelm you. 

So, naturally, you turn to your favorite nightly pastime - scrolling through your social media apps, looking for any new posts from Mingyu.

It’s an addiction, borne out of your raging crush on your friend. Well, really, he’s Minghao’s friend, you don’t know him as well as you do the others, but still. You’re friendly enough around each other. Which is because Mingyu is so nice, such a sweet and funny guy who always makes you feel more than welcome whenever he’s around. 

He’s also a blatant flirt. At first, his cocky smiles and playful words made you think he might be interested in more than just being your friend, but it wasn’t long before you realized he’s like that with everyone. So you tamped down the hope that burned in your chest, leaving only a simmering crush to smolder forever.

It’s morning back home, where most of your friends have barely started their days, so your feed is fairly dead. There are a few photos from Wonwoo from the flight, including one of Minghao sleeping with his mouth open that you immediately save to your favorites, a couple from Vernon, and, of course, several from Mingyu. You tap into his page.

Mingyu’s an avid photographer, particularly of beautiful things - breathtaking landscapes, delicious meals, himself. Mostly himself, to be honest. Not that you’re complaining. It’s maybe the most mutually beneficial relationship you’ve ever been in. Mingyu loves to provide pictures of himself. You love to admire them. A win-win all around. 

You tap back to home and refresh your feed. A new post appears, from Mingyu. The jet lag must be getting to him, too, if he’s awake and posting right now. The photo is another selfie, this time of him lying in bed, one arm resting behind his head, showing off a perfectly sculpted bicep. God. Could he be more gorgeous? 

Clicking into his page again, you rub your thumb over the screen to make his photos flip by in an endless parade of hot Mingyus. It’s ridiculous, you muse, watching picture after picture roll by, to think about how much time Mingyu must spend on these photos. Making sure he’s got the perfect lighting to bounce off his muscles just right in those gym selfies. Or figuring out the best angle to show off that sharp jawline of his. Just ridiculous. And yet, every second isn’t spent in vain, considering how the photos drew you in like shiny trinkets to your magpie eye. 

It would be so easy to think of Mingyu as a modern day Narcissus, endlessly snapping selfies, drowning in his own reflection on his phone. But he’s never struck you as conceited. It’s something else - a desire for connection, perhaps. A need for-

A tiny heart floats up your screen and you gasp. Shit. You just liked the post the scroll stopped on - one of his many gym selfies, frame zoomed in on his torso, his hand clutching the bottom of his shirt to show off his rippling abs.

Your eye drifts to the date of the photo. Posted eight months ago. 

Quick as lightning, you hit the screen again, shattering the little heart icon. Your pulse is beating too fast. There’s no need to panic. He couldn’t have seen that. Maybe you’re overreacting, but no one needs to know you’re lurking in his profile in the middle of the night, especially not him. 

A notification drops down over Mingyu’s face. A message.

Mingyu: Someone’s up late. 

Ah, damn. You were too slow. And now he’s in your DMs. 

After taking a moment to shriek quietly into your pillow, you write back. 

You: Can’t sleep

Mingyu: Same. Jet lag’s got me fucked up

Mingyu: You know what always helps when I can’t sleep?

You: What?

Mingyu: Creeping through someone’s old photos

Even though he’s not here looking at you, your neck flames with embarrassment anyway. You could play it cool. If only you knew how to do that. 

You: Shut up

Mingyu: It’s ok, I’m flattered

You: Oh fuck off

Mingyu: No really, I am

Mingyu: I like that you want me so bad

Pressing your mouth firmly into your pillow, you swallow another screech. Here we go. Right into the flirting. You can’t handle this right now.

You: Idk what you’re talking about

You:  It was an accident

Mingyu: Oh you were accidentally admiring me? 

You: How did you even notice? Are you just staring at your phone, waiting for attention?

Mingyu: I mean yeah

You snort. 

You: You’re ridiculous

Mingyu: Maybe. But I’m honest about it

You: I’ll give you that

A few seconds go by, then a minute, then two. Maybe you’re boring him. Maybe he’s found something else to entertain him. Or someone else.

When the next notification comes in, you jolt a little. 

Mingyu: What else will you give me?

And now your heart does a funny jump as you stare at his words. God, what a question. How you wish he were asking for real, and not just being playful, like he always is. 

Would it be too real to reply with the truth? “Whatever you want?”

You: I don’t know

You: What do you want?

Mingyu: What if I say you?

Suddenly you don’t understand words.

You: Why would you say that?

Mingyu: Because it’s my answer

Mingyu: I’m being honest again

You: That’s the jet lag talking

Mingyu: Oh come on

Mingyu: You really don’t know?

You: Know what??

Mingyu: How I feel about you

Is he being serious right now??

You: If this is a joke I don’t get it

Mingyu: Not a joke

Mingyu: Hold on

The notification icon on your app suddenly lights up. One heart. Two. Three four five. You open your notifications and immediately start laughing. Mingyu’s going through your oldest photos and liking them, one by one. 

Mingyu: See? I’m obsessed with you

Seungcheol grunts in his sleep, and you press your arm harder over your mouth, trying to muffle yourself better.

You: You’re so annoying, oh my god

Mingyu: So annoying that you can’t stop looking at my photos at 1 am?

Mingyu: Or flirting with me?

You: Is that what’s happening? Are we flirting?

Mingyu: Ok don’t act like you don’t know

Mingyu: I flirt with you all the time

You: You flirt with EVERYONE all the time

Mingyu: Yeah but I only mean it with you

Like any other time this happens, any time his words make your head spin, you put on the brakes, stopping before you start to believe you might have a chance. 

You: You’re so dumb

Mingyu: Are you really going to pretend you’re not enjoying this?

You: Who said I’m pretending?

Mingyu: Me. I know you’re loving this

Mingyu: Because you want me soooooo bad

You: Shut uppppp

Mingyu: Go on, yell at me

Mingyu: You’re cute when you’re mad

You: No really

You: I can’t stand you

Mingyu: Then sit on my face

Your mouth falls open, an amused huff of air escaping in a befuddled laugh at his unexpected response. 

You: What?

Mingyu: Come shut me up. Sit on my face.

You’re blinking so hard, you can hear your eyelids clapping together.

You: Fuck off. Stop playing. 

Mingyu: Who’s playing? I’m serious

Mingyu: Smother me with those gorgeous thighs of yours. I’ll go out a happy man. 

Your gorgeous thighs? He’s never said anything like that before. What the fuck is happening.

You can’t help but picture it - him lying on his bed, you kneeling over him, fingers tangled in his dark hair as you ride that pouty little mouth of his. It’s not the first time you’ve fantasized about it, but it’s the first time the vision has felt… possible. 

Mingyu: No response? You’re just gonna leave me hanging like this?

You: Don’t tease me

Mingyu: Trust me, there are a million ways I’d love to tease you, but this isn’t one

You lay down again, rolling onto your side, curling in on yourself, like you’re trying to contain all the excitement rushing through your veins, keep it from spilling out and over into the room where your friends are still sleeping.  

You: You’re really serious?

Mingyu: Cross my heart and hope to die

Mingyu: Between your legs

Again you laugh.

You: You’re such an idiot

Mingyu: Does that mean you’re not coming over?

You: Like right now??

Mingyu: Why not? 

Mingyu: Wonwoo and Minghao both slept on the plane. They went out exploring

Mingyu: I’ve got the room to myself

You bite your lip, a little harder than you normally would, the sharp sting confirming that you are not dreaming and this is, in actual fact, happening right now. 

You: I guess if I’m not sleeping anytime soon

In the dim light from your phone, you eye the path to the door. You can easily make it out of the room without waking anyone. Should you so decide. 

You: I could come over

Mingyu: I promise I’ll make it so good for you

Mingyu: Eat that pussy like you deserve. Make you cum on my tongue over and over

You inhale sharply. He’s definitely never talked about your pussy like that before. Reading his words has you positively throbbing.

Mingyu: Please, just let me taste you

What else is there to say to that but -  

You: I’m coming over

It’s a short walk to Mingyu’s room. A rush of anticipation hits you as you raise your hand to knock. It doesn’t take long for the door to open, bringing you face to face with the man whose social media you can’t stop stalking. Mingyu’s shirtless, grey sweatpants hanging alarmingly low on his hips, and if you weren’t already planning on crushing him with your thighs, this insta thirst trap of an outfit would push you right over the edge. 

“That was fast,” he laughs, stepping aside to let you in. “Did you run down the hall?” 

“I thought I told you to shut up,” you shoot back. 

“And I thought I told you to make me,” he smirks, reaching for you at the same time you reach for him, practically mashing his teeth against your lips as he pulls you in for a kiss. Despite what he just said, he’s kissing you, too eager to wait for you to do what he demands. 

It’s rough and messy, all teeth and tongue, both of you doing your fair share to keep the other silent. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say speechless, because Mingyu’s definitely not being quiet, moaning into your mouth, and you’re certainly whining loud enough for the other rooms to hear you.

He presses you back into the door, chest to chest, hip to hip. You tilt your head and he follows, chasing your mouth, as if he’s needing another taste. Your hands roam over his biceps, his shoulders, his neck, covering every inch of warm skin that’s exposed, and he slips his arms around your waist, holding you impossibly tight. Not for one second do your lips part. This is the type of kiss you’ve always read about in your favorite stories - the one that makes your knees weak, makes your head float, makes you forget everything but Mingyu. 

It’s delicious. It’s amazing. It’s every superlative you can think of. But it’s not enough. You want more. Part of you wants to tell him to get on with it, take you to bed, because you’re here to make him eat his words by eating you, but the other part isn’t about to quit kissing him any time soon. 

Thankfully, Mingyu takes care of your dilemma by eliminating the choice. Without warning, he bends his knees and lifts you, big hands secure on your thighs to hold you close to him. Okay, now it’s like one of your stories, the way he lifts you like you’re lighter than air. You’d swoon if you weren’t so busy licking into his lips. All that time in the gym is really paying off

He carries you to his bed, displaying his impressive thigh strength by slowly lowering himself into a sitting position, bringing you into his lap. You loop your arms around his shoulders, desperately seeking his mouth, as if the 0.2 seconds between kisses might kill you, which, honestly, it feels like it might, and you’ve never been in this situation before, making out with the man of your dreams, so for all you know, it will, so why risk it? 

“Stop me if I’m going too fast,” he says between kisses. 

“You can go as fast as you want,” you reply, without even a second’s pause. “Just don’t stop.” 

“Damn, and here I was worried I was coming off too excited,” he grins, face lighting up in delight. Then he kisses your cheek, whispering against your skin at your offended huff. “It’s okay, I like how needy you are for me.”

“Shut up,” you groan, but you know he felt the way you shuddered, so you give up the weak protests and start kissing him again, twisting your fingers in his hair to keep him close. 

Mingyu finally stops laughing when you take his bottom lip between your own, sucking and licking at the plump skin. With a groan, he digs his fingers into your sides, and he starts to guide you back and forth, rolling you over the eye-catching bulge in his sweatpants. It’s a sight that makes you clench, thinking about how much you want to sit on it now, just pull him out and ride, too needy to feel him inside you to even take your clothes off.

But again, you want more. You want what he’d promised earlier.  

He nips his way down your throat until his mouth latches at the base of your neck, sucking and biting, and you whimper, squirming in his hold. “

‘Gyu, please!”

“Please what?” 

He doesn’t lift his head, too absorbed in sinking his vampire-like canines into your soft skin, not sharp enough to pierce, just hard enough that you know you’ll have bruises blooming there tomorrow, little souvenirs of this moment. 

Please everything, you think. You want it all, whatever he’s willing to give, you’ll take. You’re feeling greedy as fuck right now. 

“I want what you promised me.” 

“Hold on,” he intones seriously, right before laving his tongue over a fresh mark. “Let a man at death’s door enjoy his last moments.” 

“Oh my god, you’re so stupid,” you groan, grabbing his face and smashing your lips together. He’s just - just such an idiot, such a stupid sexy idiot and you want him more than you’ve ever wanted anything in your life.

“Fine,” he says after a few minutes of frantic making out, a cheeky grin spreading across his face, hands circling around your ass, squeezing as he pulls you closer. “Time for my last meal.” 

He kisses away your embarrassingly pleased moan, and then he maneuvers the two of you around so he’s lying on the bed on his back and you’re straddling him. As he watches with rapt attention, you peel off your shirt. Since you’d been dressed for bed, you hadn’t bothered to throw on a bra. Judging from Mingyu’s expression, you made the right call.  

“Pretty,” he breathes out, wide eyes finding yours, and you have to take a beat, have to take a moment to sit and let the reality of the situation wash over you. The two of you are here, together, in this hotel room half a world away from home. Both wanting this. It’s clear to you now just how eager Mingyu’s been since you walked in. He wasn’t lying - he wants you just as much as you want him. 

With this new understanding, you stand up to slide your shorts and panties off in one go, before straddling him again, and lowering yourself for another kiss. Immediately, his arms are around you, gliding down your back, all the way to your bare ass, taking the biggest handfuls he can. 

“You drive me insane. So pretty, so hot.” 

Mingyu’s words kick the simmering heat in your gut into a full blown fire. You moan into his kiss, grinding yourself against him. One of his hands grips your side, helping you chase the friction, while the other slips between your bodies. When his fingers brush your inner thigh, he lets out a strangled groan. “Oh fuck, you’re so wet.”  

“Your fault,” you gasp, lips fervently pressing against his, licking at the seam of his mouth until he allows you in, so you can roll your tongue over his like you roll your hips. 

“Then allow me to make it up to you,” he grins, long fingers cupping your mound, trapping the heat there in his palm as he rubs it against you. You keen, thighs already twitching. You’re going to lose your mind before you even get to his face. 

You’re not alone in that feeling, as he suddenly reaches for your thighs, urging you to crawl up his body. “Get up here, please,” he begs, flat out begs you, and you slide forward as fast as you can. You need his mouth, right now.

Hovering over him is a little surreal - MIngyu’s big brown eyes are gazing up at you in a perfect replication of your favorite daydream, only it’s so much better than you’d ever imagined, because the expression he wears is one of complete awe, like he’s the one living out his fantasy. Again you feel bold, so you run your fingers through his hair, nails lightly scraping over his scalp. He moans quietly, low in his throat, like he’s trying to hold it in, and your mouth quirks in a half smile as you kneel. 

“Nice knowing you, ‘Gyu.” 

He hums a happy note, lips vibrating lightly just as your cunt reaches them, and you moan quietly. You don’t settle all the way down, because as much as you were playing along with this whole death-by-pussy dream of his, you are slightly worried that you might actually suffocate him, if not because of your weight than because of your dire need, that you might get too lost in the aching desire that’s building inside you, spurred on by the way he’s brushing the lower half of his face and down your folds, just breathing you in, teasing you with his touches but not giving you what you so desperately want. 

“‘Gyu,” you whine, tilting your pelvis forward, to catch his tongue as he traces your inner thigh, leaving a trail of saliva behind. He blows a puff of air across the wetness, sending goosebumps running at the cooling sensation. 

When you try to shift again, he’s quick to wrap his hands up around your hips, holding you still. Not hard enough to hurt, but strong enough to let you know - he’s in charge now. 

“Stay still, pretty,” he murmurs, tenderly pressing a kiss into your skin. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep my promise. Cross my heart, remember?” 

With that reminder, he pulls you down further onto his face. His tongue slides into you, nose bumping your clit, and you whimper, hands flailing at your sides, seeking something to cling to, finding nothing but the warm air around you. The pressure on the sensitive bud combining with the wet hot muscle plunging between your slick folds is overwhelming in the best way.

“‘Gyu, oh, that’s so good!”  

Mingyu nods his head vigorously, nudging his nose around, letting his tongue drag up and down your slit. It almost feels like he’s agreeing with you, backed up by the way he grunts brokenly, this deep rumble in his chest that gets strangled halfway through his throat. 

You’re not sure at what point you start thrust your hips. Mingyu helps you find the right pace, big hands guiding you forward and back, forward and back, until you feel the rhythm all the way from your ears to your toes. 

As his mouth slides up to suckle on your clit, his left hand also snakes upwards, cupping your right breast, thumb rolling over your puckered nipple. You shudder, nerves sizzling like power lines, lit up by his every touch.

“‘Gyu…” Mingyu’s mouth pulls another whine from you. You glance down, catching the furrow in his brow, the sweat dripping down his temples. “Oh my god.” 

“Mmmmphf,” Mingyu agrees, or so you assume, unable to understand anything he might be mumbling into you. A particularly sharp suck on your pulsating clit makes your back arch, and Mingyu’s hand falls from your chest, disappearing behind you. 

The sudden rustling of fabric draws your attention. You glance over your shoulder, only to whimper when you catch sight of Mingyu’s hand stroking his erection, band of his sweatpants hastily shoved down, stiff cock so flushed it brings a matching heat to your neck. 

If you were more limber, you’d reach for him, give him a helping hand, but you can’t stay twisted around for long, not when Mingyu’s tongue makes you refocus on his mouth. It’s too difficult to think about anything else right now but the way he keeps plunging inside you, using the thick muscle to fuck you shallowly. 

You can’t stop mewling like a cat in heat, rutting back and forth over Mingyu’s tongue. Even in your daze, it doesn’t escape your attention that Mingyu’s absolutely pussy drunk at this point, depraved moans buzzing endlessly against your most sensitive spots because he refuses to detach his mouth from you long enough to let them escape. Every muffled note reverberates deep in your core, joins the tense chord that’s building inside you to a crescendo. 

“‘Gyu, please.” 

At the sound of your plea, Mingyu stops stroking himself, bringing his hand around to find your clit, middle finger drawing circles around and around and around. 

When you double over, hands sinking into the plush bedding on either side of Mingyu’s head, he grunts, tipping his head to the side so he can speak. “You okay?” 

“Fuck, Mingyu, ‘m good,” you giggle, suddenly hit by a burst of glee, perhaps due to the lack of oxygen in your head, since all the blood in your body is concentrated in your clit right now. “I’m having an amazing night.” 

Mingyu hums again, sounding very pleased, and you meet his gaze, and suddenly you wish his phone was nearby, so you could snap a photo, because this look - hair mussed and clinging to his forehead, pupils blown, nose to chin coated in your glistening wetness - this is a look worth capturing.

“Yeah, me too,” he says, chest heaving as he catches his breath, and the sincerity in his voice steals your own away. If you had any nerve, you’d confess something right now, something you weren’t planning on telling him tonight or tomorrow or maybe ever. But you keep silent, only breathing a tiny exhale of surprise as he slides out from under you, and nudges you onto your back.

Mingyu folds you in half easily, because you’re giving no resistance, letting him shape you the way he desires, and then his mouth is on you again. Now that he's lying facedown between your legs, he’s able to get some much-desired friction without using his hands, grinding his neglected cock into the bed as he concentrates on you. 

His tongue glides over your throbbing nub again, and then his right hand ghosts over your slit. You whimper a soft “Please,” and that’s all he needs to slide his finger inside. The intrusion has you squirming, urging him silently to go deeper, and to your relief, he obliges. But he also locks his other arm over your legs, holding them so you can’t keep bucking your hips up. 

“I said, stay still,” he mumbles, with no anger or heat behind it, just amusement, laced with a slight tinge of cockiness. He knows he’s frustrating you, judging by the curl of his lips as he plunges his finger in and out slowly, way too slowly, teasing you with what you need most. You try to press your hips down onto his hand, to make him glide faster, but he just leans into you slightly, big arm stopping your movements. 

Your whine is beyond petulant. “Don’t tease me!” 

“Pretty, I promise you, when I tease you, you’ll know.” 

And then he adds his middle finger, curling both, pressing on the most sensitive spot on your inner wall. Over and over, his fingers flutter, massaging until starlight bursts behind your eyelids. 

“It’ll be something like this.” 

He withdraws his hand.

“Gyuuuuuu.”

If he was slightly cocky earlier, he’s fully arrogant now, face breaking into a wide grin while he laughs. “Wow, so whiny. You do want me bad.” 

“I swear to god if you dohhhhHHH-”

You break off in a moan when he lowers his face again, loudly lapping at your wetness. Clever fingers alternate between scissoring and stroking, following the changes in your breathing, and you hope that he’s close to being satiated, because you’re teetering on the edge of your climax, only the slightest bit more stimulation necessary to push you over. 

“Mingyu. Mingyu, I’m gonna cum.” You open your eyes, raising your head enough to look at him, to watch with a dropped jaw as he buries his face in your cunt, his own eyes closed in ecstasy, and oh, that’s it - “Oh god, I’m gonna cum!” 

Your warning cry - though clearly appreciated by Mingyu, who groans in answering refrain, hips humping the bed furiously - is ultimately unnecessary, given how hard your walls suddenly clench around his fingers. He doesn’t stop his ministrations, fingerfucking you through your orgasm as your lower half trembles beneath his heavy arm. He holds you in place as best he can, sweetly kissing your clit, while you wail and writhe, pressing your palm into your mouth to keep your cries from waking the rooms around you. 

Eventually your tremors slow, turning into occasional twitches, before your body finally relaxes. Mingyu continues to lap at you, every pass of his tongue getting lighter and lighter, until he lifts his head. He’s the perfect image of lust, eyes dark and desirous, and you claw at his shoulders, needing him close again. 

“Kiss me.” 

He wipes his face with the back of his hand, smearing you over himself more as he rises up to meet you. His cock is hard between you, and you moan, knowing that you did that, that he got this turned on just from eating you out, and extend your fingers to wrap around him.

The unbidden sound he utters when you take his cock and slide it through your soaking folds, coating it in your wetness, is the filthiest sound you’ve ever heard.

“Careful, pretty,” he pants, looking down at your hand. Under his close gaze, you circle the head of his cock before rubbing your thumb over and around the slit there. “‘M close.” 

“Wanna make you come, ‘Gyu,” you tell him, and he hisses, hips bucking into your grip. 

“Fuck.” His long fingers cover yours, guiding you into a faster pace. “But I’m gonna make a mess.”

“Do it. Make a mess.” The need to make him completely fall apart takes possession of you, makes you say things you’ve never said to anyone else. “Come all over me.” 

Mingyu whines, chin dropping to his chest. He’s barely blinking as he stares at your entwined hands. 

“Pretty… don’t say that….”

“Please, ‘Gyu.” All shame has fled your body. “I want it.” 

No further encouragement is needed. Mingyu grunts a few times before he’s painting your stomach in so much white, in little drops and big splashes, doing exactly what you told him, eyes rolling back in his head as he does.

When his high abates, he sits back on his heels, gazing at the mess he created, all the sticky sweat and semen that covers your body. A delirious thought comes to you. Is the sight beautiful enough for him to want to take a picture? 

“Wow,” he murmurs after a moment, shaking his head. “You’re even prettier when you’re covered in me.” 

His dead serious expression is enough to break the haze of lust hanging over you. You throw your arm over your face, too flustered to look at him. “‘Gyuuuuu!”

“Changed my mind, I’m calling you ‘whiny' from now on.” The bed shifts as Mingyu rises. He laughs all the way to and from the bathroom, laughs even harder when you glare at him, reaching for the towel he holds. He surprises you by nudging your hand away. “Let me.”  

His touch is so gentle as he wipes away his mess, then your own. When you’re both clean enough, he lays on his side, draping his arm over you. “Think you can sleep now?” 

Oh, you can sleep. You’re feeling satiated in a way you haven’t for a long time, and now that the rush has worn off, you could knock right out. You should probably go back to your room, ride this calm wave right into sleep, not let yourself get too excited at the thought that this vacation might be the best one ever.

Instead, you grin, sliding your fingers through the hair on the back of his neck. “Yeah. But I don’t want to.” 

“Oh?” Mingyu’s smile mirrors yours. “What do you wanna do instead?” 

“I might have some ideas.” 

He lets you pull him down for a kiss, humming eagerly.

“Tell me what you want, pre-”

A sharp rap on the door startles you both.

“Dude, don’t you dare!” Minghao hisses through the wood. “We’ve been out here forever!” 

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© 2024 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my work.

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | oneshot angst [18+]

title. let me be free of you

He would live in this lifetime of hell over and over again if it meant that in some other one, there exists a world where he never hurts you.

ᰔ pairing. friends to strangers au - best friend!gojo x reader (f)

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru, your love of a lifetime, tells you he’s engaged to another woman. inspired by the novel & netflix series “one day” created by david nicholls

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem!reader, angst, mentions of sex/explicit content, coming of age themes, reader & gojo are in their 30s, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of alcohol, cheating, lots of mutual pining & longing, bittersweet ending

ᰔ word count. 4.8k

a/n. hellooo! i've had this finished in my wips folder for a long time but never got around to posting it sooo just wanted to let it see the light of day haha. hope you enjoyyy <33

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“I’m engaged.”

The words leave Gojo’s lips as much less of a confession and more like a blabber, like a toddler desperate to keep conversation going in the face of a disinterested adult. Wasn’t how he expected to share the news of a lifetime to the love of his lifetime, but he hopes it breaks your heart to hear it. 

He watches your eyebrows flatten from the crease that was bothering them before, and then slowly raise into soft arches above your eyes–those damn beautiful eyes that, even when they twinkle with hurt, still make his heart skip a beat in his chest.

He recalls for a moment the night the two of you met, drunk and dizzy from drinking out of a shared bottle of Prosecco, which only had half of the liquor left in it to start when he had first found it bleeding out to dry on the grassy lawn at the front of your university. It was graduation night, the last day to celebrate finishing four years of hell, and he had nothing to his name other than a rolled up diploma shoved in the pocket of his suit pants and the charm left in the youth of his smile. He wanted to spend the night with Aiko Rei, which was not a unique desire as most men on campus did, and he had a fair shot of getting into bed with her just like all those times before. But instead he was sitting at the top of a staircase inside the campus’s English literature building, making history in the crisp year of 1986 by being the first man of the robust age of twenty-three to pass up sex with the school’s lady heartthrob for–well, conversation with a sort of ditsy girl that he just met a half hour ago.

“What do you plan to do with your life?” he heard you ask him, a hard enough question to stomach when one is sober, and an impossible question to stomach when one is already trying not to puke flat Prosecco.

“Pardon?” he asked, in hopes to dissuade you from the question. In hopes that you’d get the hint. But you don’t. And he’d soon learn throughout the years of your friendship to come that you never did.

“Your life!” you exclaim, “we’re graduates now! What do you want to do with it?” You pat harshly at his thigh, closer to his groin than to his pocket, most likely because you’re tipsy too, but he realizes you’re referring to the rolled up paper protruding at the pocket. 

Truthfully, Gojo had never thought much about what he wanted to do after graduation. Hell, he didn’t even think he’d make it this far. Not once since he got here, not once since he flunked out of first-year history, not once since his father passed away during his third-year final examinations, and most certainly not after he got caught having “unethical affairs” with his communications professor just two months ago. And yet the esteemed board of scholars decided he was fit for a diploma anyway, and now he’s answering to, effectively, a stranger what he plans to do with said piece of paper.

“I don’t know,” he says to you, “I’ll do whatever.” 

Gojo Satoru could get by with doing whatever. He was good at everything he did. But his teachers and mentors and his own father would always warn him– son, it’s better to be an expert at one than a half-assed show-off in all. Well, they wouldn’t use the expletives, but that’s what it had sounded like in his head.

His dad would’ve liked you. He was always telling him to find a girl that challenges him, asks him the right questions, and pushes him to become a better man, the kind of woman his mother was to his father. Much opposed to the airheaded girls of Gojo’s college campus he would sneak into the house and forget to shoo off before sunrise, an occurrence that happened enough times for the respect in his father’s eyes to dwindle with each woman he’d watch his son dispel from their residence. Until eventually, Gojo started paying rent as punishment.

So, twenty-three year old Gojo, what do you plan to do with your life? Or do you have no idea of anything that extends beyond where you are right now, sitting across this strange girl you’ve just met on the death of your educational youth, at the top of a stairwell lined with passed out, drunk newly grads at nearly 4 in the morning? Right now, he’s eyeing the hem of your dress, the way it’s ridden up slightly but the mesh overskirt still tickles the skin of your thigh. He’s certainly able to picture what’s beyond that fabric, and maybe imagine the color of your panties, but what’s to come for his life? No. As previously mentioned, he never thought he’d get this far.

Gojo is thirty-four now, eleven years since that night the two of you met. And he sits next to you on a garden bench under a pitch black sky with stars speckled across, but only dimly visible. 

It’s been years since he’s seen you. You two had a “falling out” at the cusp of thirty, almost a decade of friendship fizzled away, because of his selfish actions. He couldn’t let you go, but he couldn’t want you the way you wanted him either. He didn’t feel like he deserved to have you. You were too good for him, and he knew it. So he wasted a decade chasing after other women, and in return, he lost the one he knew he was supposed to spend the rest of his life with.

It’s the night of your college roommate‘s wedding, all gathered here today to celebrate their love, and he knew he’d run into you here. You were the bride’s maiden of honor, and you looked beautiful. With your hair half tied up, a pretty clip twinkling with every movement of your head, and with strands falling down over the smooth curve of your neck, bare skin of your chest tightly covered by the nude fabric of your dress. He was fully lusting after you, and he has been all night, the picture of beauty and grace, and it was wrong. Because, again, he’s–

“You’re engaged?” you finally break through his thoughts, break through the trance that he was lost in by the sea of your eyes. Forever pulling him in like you were a wicked siren for his soul, when all you’ve ever wanted from him was his love.

He shifts a little, the thick fabric of his navy blue suit stretching with the movement as he fidgets with his hands in his lap. He’s sitting close to you, his shoulder brushing against yours, the contrast of his broad masculinity so evident against the feminine curve of your bare arm, the thin strap holding up your dress threatening to fall down the hill. His thumb twitches, because he wants to pull it back up into place for you like a gentleman, but he’s not sure if that’s what his hand would actually do. Because all he really wants to do is peel the dress off of you. 

“Yes,” he says, still tantalized by the glow of your skin under pale moonlight, “engaged.”

“To be married?”

“Well, what other kind of engaged is there?”

“You’re not allowed to get married.”

He snorts. “Says who?”

“Says me!” you exclaim, sitting up straighter, "I turn my back for one moment, and you've gone an got engaged? You're awful!" The strap of your dress falls down over your shoulder, his eyes immediately darting to it. He sees you pull the strap up back into place, and a flit of his eyes to your face reveals to him the slight dusting of an embarrassed pink to your cheeks. 

There’s a silence that settles between the two of you. Distant commotion is heard, likely from the wedding venue as people engage in reception activities and dances and cheers, while the two of you remain in this garden escape, the wall of primly trimmed bushes sheltering you two from having to pretend to be people you’re not amongst a crowd.

“Aiko…” he hears you say beside him, and although the name of the woman that has rolled off your tongue is the name of the woman he’s supposed to love, it only makes him feel sick to his stomach to hear you say her name. “She seems lovely.”

“She is,” is all he can manage to say. And he also knows this seemingly lovely woman is probably drunk off her face back at the reception hall, giggling at all the men that approach her from the sight of her flushed face, and he should feel some sort of jealousy or possessiveness over that, but he can’t seem to muster any. Unlike the grit he had to his jaw an hour ago when he saw you dancing with a man he heard you introduce to your friends as just an “old friend” of yours from college. He felt more anger in that moment than he’d ever felt watching his soon-to-be-wife getting talked up to by the sleazy men twice her age. 

“She must be very rich,” you say. “She looks it.”

“Oh. Yeah. Her family’s very well off,” Gojo says.

“So will you become rich too?” you ask him, “when you marry her.”

His eyes flit to the sky briefly. “Doubt it.”

“How come?”

“The old man doesn’t like me very much. I imagine he’ll cut ties after the wedding.”

“Her father?”

“Yes.”

“And why is that?”

“Well. I guess it’s not every father’s dream to find out his prim and proper daughter’s been knocked up by the good-for-nothing boyfriend he’s been threatening her to say good riddance to for months now.”

The silence finds the two of you again, but this time haunting and gutting. That was a blabber, if anything. So nonchalantly said, with no emotion or spirit, to the one person in this world who he’s always felt like he can be himself around.

“She’s pregnant?” you say beside him, voice breaking slightly at the end, and he can’t bear to look at you for some reason. Some sort of admission of guilt, but what for? What exactly was he repenting for?

He lets out a small laugh, like the absurdity of the situation finds him all the same. “Yeah.” 

“That–” you start, stiff next to him, before he feels the tension relax but only rigidly, “that’s wonderful, Satoru. I’m–...I’m really happy for you.” You turn your torso to wrap your arms around him, and his lips brush the sweet skin on your forehead as you bury your face in the crook of his neck. He wraps one arm around you, a sort of friendly hug as he rubs the skin of your arm soothingly, and his heart aches from the emptiness when you release him. 

“Wow…” you say, looking up at him with pretty eyes, eyelashes fluttering as you blink rapidly to process the information, and he wonders if you really are happy for him. He doesn’t want you to be. He wants you to be furious, to tell him off for getting another woman pregnant after leading you on for so many years, maybe he wants you to slap him, or grab him by the collar of his shirt and shake him until all he sees is a million of you through dizzy vision like some paradise. He wants you to be mad, because it’d mean that you still care. It’d mean that you still think there’s something here to salvage between the two of you. 

But he’s engaged. And he’s having a baby. What was more final than that?

“So…are you marrying her because of–”

“The wedding is in four weeks,” he cuts you off, but he knows the statement answers your question regardless.

“Satoru…”

He leans off to the side a little to reach into the pocket of his suit pants, and he pulls out what is now a slightly bent envelope and he hands it to you. You take it from him gently, holding it weakly like it was something beyond you. Like something distant and foreign and strange. When all it was, is a wedding invitation. 

“Listen…” he starts.

He sees your eyes dazed as you stare at the lettering on the outside of the envelope.

“We’ve been friends for a long time, y/n. And I know the last time we saw each other was–” Hostile. Angry. Disappointing. Ended with you cussing him out on the street and then saying you never want to see him again. “...not ideal, but I still care a lot about you, and, uh, so, it would mean a lot to me if you came to the wedding.” For fucks sake, even on the brink of losing you forever, he still can’t find the right words to say. “Aiko, she–” He tastes bitter in his mouth, “well, I’ve told her a lot about you, and she’d really love it if you came as well.”

You’re silent as you gently peel back the opening of the letter and then pull out the small card stock invitation. The gold printed letters shine as you inspect it, fingers tracing the patterns of words that profess the Rei family’s intent to wed their daughter to Gojo Satoru. Your Gojo Satoru. Your best friend in this whole wide world. He watches your eyes carefully, but he can’t discern what he finds in them.

“Gojo Satoru…” you drone off, “to be wed. And to be a father.” Years of late night talks of the future, of kids and Christmas and love, with reality seemingly sly on the horizon only to have crept up so abruptly. It was pinched between your fingers right now. That reality.

His shoulders sulk slightly. And when you look up at him again, there’s a sheen of tears in your eyes.

“I can’t come to this,” you whisper, “and you know that, Satoru.”

His heart breaks. A physical pain that twists in his chest so tight at just the sight of seeing you sad. Sad again over the actions of his own. They say you always hurt the one you love, and he had always wondered what sort of evil person would do such a thing, only to find out he’s only ever hurt you this entire time. 

He should’ve kissed you that night the two of you met at graduation. Should’ve shut you up and all your existential questions by pinning you to a wall and pressing his lips against yours. He should’ve taken you to bed and fucked you, and then held you in his arms until you woke up in the morning. Should’ve listened to you talk his ear off about how he’s just like all the other guys, who pretend to care, but only want to have sex and then never to speak to the girl ever again. And he should’ve laid there in bed, nose nuzzled in your hair, taking all the scolding despite having no intent to ever leave you.

Instead, he wasted so much time. Sure, he had your friendship. His best friend for years, but the two of you could’ve been something more. Could’ve spent the years together, instead of writing stained letters or leaving messages on answering machines while the two of you were miles away. He could’ve been waking up with you every morning with the scent of your shampoo on his sheets, instead of clinging to pillows in foreign motel rooms. He could’ve been engaged to you, and he could be whispering sweet nothings in your ear of how much he wishes the baby will have your eyes. 

But his thoughts are lost in fantasy. He is what he’s done, nothing more and nothing less. His eyes fall to your lap, the invitation still held loosely in your hand, and then a droplet of water falls onto it.

“I–” you stutter, wiping at the tears spilling down your cheeks with a hesitant swipe of your hand, “I need to go.”

You stand up off the bench and he quickly stands up with you, grabbing your wrist to keep you here with him, and you halt but only with you facing away from him. He yanks at your wrist harshly, pulling you into him so his chest is flush to your back, his arms wrapping strongly around you and his nose nuzzling into your hair, breathing you in greedily like it’s the last time he’ll ever get the chance.

“Satoru–” you gasp, your hands immediately grabbing at his forearms that are tightly crossed across your collarbone. “What are you doing–” 

“Say it,” he whispers, gruff and impatient, “tell me to do it, and I will.”

“T-Tell you to do what?” you stutter, struggling a little in his hold but he only holds you tighter.

“Tell me to leave her, and I will,” he says, his lips brushing at your ear now, the scent of your perfume maddening to his senses, and one of his hands slowly trails down and the knuckle of his thumb presses into the softness of your breast.

You squirm, a small and soft moan leaving your lips.

“T–” you breathe in harshly, “this is wrong.” 

“I don’t care,” he growls, arms sliding lower to hold you under your breasts, so tightly that your heels lift off the ground. “Just say the word, and I’ll leave everything behind for you. I promise,” he breathes in deep, the desperation making his head hazy, “that I’ll do things right this time. Just you and me–” 

“You’re going to be a father,” you remind him, and he shuts his eyes closed tightly, the responsibility of the word bearing on his shoulders but his desire for you overshadows every shred of sense or dignity or integrity he has left in him, because he felt like he was losing his mind after wanting you for years just to never have you. 

He turns you around in his hold so that you face him, and he crashes his lips to yours, muffling the surprised mmf! that dies in your throat in surprise as his hands hold your waist, relishing in the feeling of satin fabric pulled taut over your curves.

Forbidden, yet a taste that he’ll risk because there was no curse that was worse than the fate of having to pine after you for years.

Ah.

But.

But it was all fantasy, this moment in his head, where he takes you on the freshly cut grass of this garden. 

Something that only briefly flashes through his mind as his warm hand wraps around your wrist, from where he was still seated on the stone bench, and not on his feet holding you like he dreamed for. Like he longed for.

He feels the weight of his arm so heavily, as if it weren’t his own, and he slowly lets go of your wrist.

When he looks up at you, there’s longing in your eyes. A hurt that he didn’t even know he was capable of causing, just for him to realize that you’ve always looked at him that way, and he’s never been keen enough to know it until now. He grew up too late. He took too long.

His phone starts buzzing in his pocket, and he reaches in for it, then flips it open and sees his soon-to-be-wife’s name on it. He feels nothing at the sight.

“Hello?” he speaks into the device when he holds it to his ear, and he sees you take a couple steps away, rubbing anxiously at your elbow as you pretend to busy yourself with the study of the lamp. “Yes, I’ll be there soon. I, uh, I’m just with a friend. A couple of friends, actually. We’re having drinks by the pond. Mhm. Yes. I will. Okay, see you soon. I—…I love you too. Bye.” And then he snaps the phone shut. 

“Heading back?” he hears you ask.

He stands. “I’ve got to.”

“Okay.” 

You two walk down the shrubbery of the garden that was arranged like a maze, him a few paces behind you, and he watches the delicate line of your posture as your hand brushes against the green walls of foliage that encase the two of you, the feeling of wanting to touch you and hold you almost suffocating. 

“Hey,” he calls out to you, and he shoves his hands in his suit pockets. You turn around immediately to face him, like his voice was permission to do so.

“Yes?” you ask.

He blinks up at the starry sky, and then looks at you again. The soft cast of distant warm lighting falls over your face, making you appear like a renaissance painting, similar to those that you would point out to him at museums when you two would see each other on holiday back in your early twenties. He could never understand the charm of those paintings, no matter how many times you tried to explain it to him, but seeing you in this light right now, he finally understands the beauty that you saw. 

“I’m, uh,” he rubs at the back of his neck, and then scoffs out a small laugh, “I’m a little drunk right now, but–” He stops himself. What was he trying to say? And was it of conscious mind? “I just need to tell you that…I really regret…not speaking to you. I mean, for letting the silence drag on for years. You’re my–...my best friend. We’re a pair, you know? The two of us. For years, people would ask me where you were. And why they haven’t seen us together at all recently. And it was hard to admit that we hadn’t spoken in years.”

You take the smallest of steps towards him, and look up at him with empty eyes. 

“What I’m trying to say is, is that, well,” he finds himself tripping over his words, “I miss you. And I miss our friendship. And–...I miss having you around.” He glances down at his shoes, polished and reflecting off the moonlight directly above him. He rocks back and forth on his heels ever so slightly. “I know you said that I piss you off to lengths unimaginable to my tiny pea-sized brain, but I can’t help myself, y/n,” he admits, “I think you and I, we’re just meant to always be. In some how, or some way…”

You purse your lips together, gaze shifting lower to eye at the silk of his tie. 

“Can we be friends again?” he asks, the words feeling juvenile on his tongue. Like whispered apologies between children on a playground after shoving one another onto wooden chips, except the wounds he’s left on you run much deeper than a superficial scrape. 

You blink slowly, tilting your head up at him. “Friends?”

“Friends.”

You wipe your palm off on the satin of your dress. “I missed you too, you know.”

His eyes widened slightly.

Your hand finds its way up your arm, until you weakly cup your elbow with your palm and look off to the side, avoiding eye contact with him. “There were so many years where I thought that there was something between us. And maybe I was foolish for thinking that way, that you would ever see me that way–”

“y/n,” he tries to interrupt you. 

“But…the pain of not having you the way I wanted to was much less worse than the pain of not having you at all,” you say, your gaze finally shifting towards him. “But, the thing is, I needed to feel that pain to get over you. I had to.”

His heart stills at those words.

You glance down at the ground now. “I missed being able to tell you things. To laugh, and cry, and argue. I miss humbling your stupid ego. I miss being able to call you at any time, knowing you’d pick up when I needed you.”

His heart aches so much he wants to reach into his chest and hold it.

“The thing is,” you continue, “you would’ve been the first person I would’ve run to to tell them that I lost my best friend.” There were tears shining in your eyes. “But what could I do when you were the one that I had lost? Who could I have turned to then?”

He lets out a shaky breath, and in a swift motion, his arm wraps around your waist and he pulls you to him in an embrace.

You’re stiff in his hold, mechanical and rigid, so contrary to the soft tears you leave behind on the fabric of his sleeve, but slowly and surely, you warm and thaw. Your hands slide up past his shoulders, linking behind his neck. And his head drops to the curve of your neck, swaying you with him slowly as if it were a first dance.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, “for hurting you.”

You breathe out slowly. “Just let me go, Satoru. Let me be free. Let me be free of you.”

He feels the air knock out of his lungs, and the two of you slowly pull your heads away from the embrace to look at one another, although your hands still find a place on his shoulders, and he still holds you close to him by a delicate hold of your waist. 

He wonders if in another life, you two were happy. He wonders if he could ever take back all the decisions he made, and start all over again. On that day the two of you met on that staircase in the west wing of the literature building, he would make a different choice. If he could, he would live in this lifetime of hell over and over again if it meant that in some other one, there exists a world where he never hurts you. 

“It’s time for me to go,” you whisper, eyes darting across the features of his face, studying them but with a familiarity that only you know, because you held his entire life in your palm. Your gaze meets his again, faces just inches apart, and the sweet curl of your eyelashes makes him weak in the knees. “It’s time.”

He nods slowly, his own eyes studying your face as well, except it looks foreign to him now. 

It’s all been said and done. There was nothing he could do to right the wrongs, or undo all the pain. He was to be a father now, and his duties were now towards his wife and unborn child. And no longer to the woman he holds in his arms, one he’s sure he will never stop loving for as long as he lives. 

It’s a sweet moment, the two of you gazing at one another. You look so pretty from this angle, looking up at him with the smallest tilt to your head and round searching eyes. His head subconsciously dips down towards yours in the second that he glances at your lips, but he stops himself. And when you make no move to create distance, he finds himself closing it again, until his lips brush against yours ever so softly. And then he captures them in a kiss, firm and unmistaken, finding solace in the way your lips move against his too, unsure yet passionately at the same time. Your fingers ever so slightly dig into his shoulders while his thumbs soothe at the skin of your waist, the two of you savoring the last moments of a kiss that’ll be the sweetest one you’ll ever know.

You pull away first, a small puff of air leaving your lips as you glance downwards. He rests his forehead against yours, never once looking away from your face. And you both breathe slowly, the soul of the chaste kiss entirely vanishing into the air along with all the hope that the two of you had left to make anything of the way you feel about one another. It was a kiss that almost disqualified any level of sin or guilt or wrong, because it was like one you two owed each other, after years of familiarity and longing. It was the goodbye that the two of you deserved.

His hands slowly let go of your waist, and he takes a step back away from you, softly clearing his throat. The distance feels like a galaxy away, and he briefly runs his thumb along his bottom lip, because the ghostly feeling of your lips on his still remains. 

“Shall we head back?” you ask him, prim and proper in posture and eyes widened in a formal gaze.

His lips are parted, and he finds that he’s panting slightly. And then he slowly nods his head. “Yes.”

.

.

.

[the end] 

a/n. i am sooooo freaking obsessed w "one day" by david nicholls and really wanted to write something inspired by it!! the book literally ripped my heart out and stomped on it like there were so many scenes where i just longingly stared out the window because of how shattering it was but dear god i really enjoyed it, and the show was also so dfkjhsfkhs i had sm feels watching it. so yea this was fun to write!! i hope you enjoyedd n thanks so much for reading :)

➸ masterlist

[coavill]

You’re The Reason

Bucky Barnes Fluff Drabble

• pairing : Bucky Barnes x Reader

• warnings : NO usage of Y/N, gender neutral? could be…, petname (doll)

• inspired by the song :

Tossing and turning, you have been trying to sleep since God knows when… 4 hours ago?…

That was it, you’ve had enough. With a loud huff, you got up from bed, turning on the dim lights beside you to give enough lighting for you to walk out of your room. Glancing at the clock, your eyes widens. It was 3AM.

You walked out of your not-so-comfortable-right-now bedroom and entered the compound’s kitchen. Your heart dropped when you saw a figure leaning on the counter, only to be greeted with his blue eyes gleaming in the dark.

“Bucky?”

He stared broodingly, until he realized that it was just you. You turned a few lights on, dimming the room, and that’s when you saw Bucky clearly. He was holding a glass of Tony’s obviously expensive whiskey. His body was sweaty, with slightly shaky breath. You felt so sorry for him, he has always had these nightmares of times when he was held hostage by HYDRA. It was traumatic, for sure. He would give everything to not have those nightmares ever again.

“What are you doing here? It’s 3 in the morning..” He furrowed his brows. It’s not usual for you to stay up this late.

“Can’t sleep.. You?”

“Yeah, me too”

“Nightmares?” You asked, feeling worried.

“Mhm” He answered with a slight nod.

There was a delicate moment of silence for a while, before you took some tissues and about to wipe the remaining sweat he had.

“Can i?” You asked before getting the answer of him nodding. You knew it was weird to treat him like this, but you just felt the need to do so. You felt the eagerness to help him just a little bit.

Oh God, how he stared at you the whole time.. You would have him right there and right now. You’ve always found him attractive, ever since you joined the Avengers. But you never had the boldness to approach him since he just never talks to anyone unless it’s essential.

“Thanks..” A small mumble came out of his mouth.

Shoot, there we go. Another silence moment passes by. You both didn’t know what to talk about, until you casually said “Y’know, those kind of drinks are bad for you. I know you drink them a lot”

“Yeah, I know” He answered coldly and took another sip of the whiskey.

Ugh, you knew he has always been this cold. But tonight you just wanted him to talk normally, excitedly like what people do. You quickly brushed off the thoughts and said

“Just, don’t drink ‘em too much”

He stared at the wall or whatever and did not reply, not a single word.

You finally gave up and you were about to go back to your bedroom, when you suddenly felt a grip on your wrist.

“Hey..”

You looked at him with a questioning look. He didn’t say anything and just put his glass of whiskey on the counter. You didn’t have time to think about what the next thing that would happen.

He placed his metal arm on your waist, the other on the nape of your neck. He pulled you in and kissed you delicately. The sensation of your lips touching, you couldn’t process what was happening but the blood rushing all over your face. He felt no reply from you and was starting to panic, but you then gave the feedback he wanted. You placed both of your hands on his shoulder, tiptoeing, closing your eyes to enjoy what you two have wanted for so long. Time passed and you both pulled back.

“Are you using a strawberry lip balm?”

You totally didn’t expect that to be the first thing Bucky said.

“Yeah, why?”

“Your lips, they taste so sweet”

Totally, you were sure you are as red as a tomato right now. You hid your face and refused to even give a glance at him.

“Hey, look at me” He placed his finger on your chin and turned your face to look at him.

“Doll..”

He took a deep breath before continuing,

“Im sorry, i’ve wanted to do this for so long. It was the first glance of you. I fell in love with you at first sight. I understand if you’re clearly not happy about it and… I’m sorry i kissed you just now, if you want to avoid me it’s totally okay-“

You realized that he was shaking. You quickly put your hands on both of his cheeks and kissed him once more.

Woah, how it felt like the stars were surrounding you two. It’s like a dream come true..

“Bucky.. I love you too. Ever since i laid my eyes on you for the first time. But i wasn’t brave enough to approach you. You gave me the intimidating vibe, y’know?” I chuckled

His eyes were suddenly awake, not sleepy anymore. It’s like the world has turned 180 degrees against him. He hugged you and buried his face on your neck, he felt safe with you, and he would give everything to be with you just for a moment. At last, he was glad that he was given that moment.

“So…?” You teased.

“I’ll stop drinking, if you want me to” He answered.

“No, silly. I meant it as in ‘So, are we together now?’” A chuckle came out from you.

“Yeah, of course” He exclaimed like it was the most obvious thing. Before he continued,

“But i mean it though, I’ll stop drinking, for you” He grinned sheepishly.

You smiled and answered

“Don’t do it for me, but rather do it for yourself, Buck”

“But doing it for myself is doing it for you, because you’re the missing part of me” He said with a smug face.

“Cheesy guy” you laughed, before he carried you to the couch, to do God knows what.

[scourgeofgotham]

warnings: noncon, age gap

Dilf! Roy Harper x fem! babysitter! reader

I was inspired by @arkhamslvts taking about dilf! Roy fucking his babysitters.

ROY hired you as his babysitter two months ago. You always wore skirts, pretty dresses, and tight biker shorts over, he didn’t know if you were just teasing him but it was definitely working. ROY would give you extra if you help with chores around the house while Lian slept. So you always made sure to help with laundry, dishes, preparing meals occasionally. Lian was just starting to want to help you bake. ROY was always thankful when you made little baked treats for him.

One day after putting Lian to bed you decided to take a nap on their couch. You had worn one of your skirts over and you had your back on the couch, with your legs resting over the armrest. When ROY got home you were fast asleep and completely out of it, he saw your pretty legs dangling off of the armrest and when he went to wake you up he got a glimpse of your pretty panties, with a little wet spot, they showed off the curves of your lips. This was almost enough to make him snap, his growing erection, a pretty unconscious girl who made him feel loved, and that chocolate perfume you wore, it definitely almost made him snap. ROY definitely thought you planned that, and it started to fuel his obsession.

You were completely asleep, your skirt was riding up while you moved around on the couch. ROY couldn’t contain himself, you were practically begging for it. His hands slowly trailed along your skirt as he looked down to see your panties peeking out. He reached out touching your lower thigh. His touch was light as he was afraid to wake you. “Such a pretty girl,” he mumbled. He placed his fingers underneath your chin lifting your chin upwards. He leaned over you and placed a kiss on your lips. "You taste so sweet,” he cooed. “Such a good girl for me.” He couldn't help himself, his hand caressing your cheek, your lips tasted like vanilla. He leaned over and placed a kiss on your neck, which made you let out a soft moan. You're still sound asleep, your body was completely at ease as he slipped his hands beneath your shirt lifting it and exposing your bare skin. Your soft, buttery skin was practically begging to be marked up by him. He was taking his time, his breathing getting heavier as he slowly lifted your skirt. The wet spot on your panties was getting bigger. He hooked your fingers underneath your panties and slowly pulled them down. He slowly unveiled your pretty folds glistening in the moonlight, begging for him to touch you. You're completely at his mercy, completely vulnerable and you don't realize any of this as you were still asleep. “Such a pretty pink pussy for me…” Your panties were around your knees, he was taking all of you in. How pretty you were, how soft and delicate you were. How you were practically begging to be touched, why else would you wear a tiny skirt? He was drooling at the sight of you. You were starting to move around again, “Hmmmm?” you whined, and Roy quickly pulled your panties back up. He couldn’t get caught touching his babysitter, he was quick to do this, and the sudden movements made his heart race. “Roy?” you called out half asleep. He quickly got up and walked out of sight. Be went into the kitchen and tried to get his heart to calm down. He could barely look at you, “Here’s the money I owe you, sweetheart. Have a good night and be safe.”

The next day you came over he couldn’t look at you in the eyes. “I’ll be home in five hours.” He told you. You placed with Lian all afternoon and it was almost 11 pm and Roy still wasn’t home. You tried calling him with no answer. Lian started crying from a nightmare and you two were plopped on the couch eating ice cream, “Don’t tell your Daddy okay?” You were trying your best. “I won’t…” Lian replied in between sobs, eating ice cream to calm her down. You tried calling Roy but he still didn’t answer, so you were trying to convince yourself that he probably turned off his phone. Lian then tried to give you ice cream when you weren’t looking and dropped it all over your dress, “Lian be careful sweetheart!” As you tried to clean the ice cream that dropped on your dress, all you could think about was Roy and him possibly seeing you like this. You took off your dress and went to their laundry room and tried getting out the stain. You threw it in the washer, and Lian came running in with a glass of soda and tripped spilling it all over you, “Baby, are you okay?” You asked her. Lian was crying. She felt like she messed everything up even though it was an accident and she didn’t do it on purpose. Her eyes were filled with fear as she just stared at you, waiting for your reaction. “It’s okay sweetheart. You don’t have to cry.” She wipes her tears away and sighs. “I’m sorry that I made this mess…” she says and you see her holding the empty glass of soda. “Will, um, Daddy be mad?” She asked staring at you. “We won’t tell him okay?” You grabbed paper towels and a spray to clean it up. “Did you get any on you?” You asked her. She shakes her head. “I don’t think so…” She looks at you, scared again, hoping that you’re not mad at her. “I can’t get mad at my best friend, that wouldn’t be right, now can it?” You smiled. Lian’s mood seemed to have lightened immediately after you replied, she wipes her tears and smiles at you. “Okay, I have to go shower sweetheart. If I give you a can of soda, will you stay put?” You asked her. She nodded eagerly. “Good girl.” You sat her down in front of the tv and put on Care Bears. “Alright if you need anything sweetheart come and get me okay? Don’t answer the door.”

She nods and starts watching Care Bears. Then she takes a sip of soda and goes back to watching her show and her eyes are glued to the TV screen. You smiled and went to Roy’s room and grabbed a shirt and some sweatpants to wear. You got into his shower and tried to decompress. Roy still wasn’t home… You were scared that Roy was injured, or captured or both. You knew he was Arsenal from one day he came home in his suit, injured you had to patch him up. You sighed and got out of the shower. You put on the sweatpants and t-shirt comfortably. You went to the living room and sat beside Lian. Lian started yawning, “Are you tired sweetheart?” You asked her. “How about we sleep in Daddy’s bed?” You proposed. Lian’s eyes widened with surprise. “We can sleep in daddy’s bed?!” she asks excitedly “Really?!” You nodded. You picked her up, you yawned while walking to his room. You gently placed her on his bed and got in right beside her. Lian seemed to be feeling a bit sleepy but she was still excited. She yawns deeply “Thank you mama…” This made your heart stop, “Is it okay if I call you mommy? You take care of me…” she said in a sleepy voice, “you feed me and tuck me in bed… you’re like a mommy.” she smiled softly and yawned again. “Yeah, that’s because I’m helping your daddy take care of you sweetheart.” You told her, “Can I still call you my mommy?” she looked up at you with that puppy dog face again. You couldn't say no to her… “Sure it’s okay.” You smiled. “Thank you Mommy.” She yawned, “Mommy…?” she then asked in a sleepy voice. “Why aren’t you married?” she asks you. “I haven’t found the right guy yet.” You smiled. She looks at you “Why don’t you marry daddy?” she asked, she looked at you with big sweet eyes. “Cause he’s a lot older than I am sweetheart.” You tried to explain to her. “I don’t think he cares,” she said with a sleepy voice. “Plus, he was always blushing when he looks at you.” She yawns again and nods her head. “You should just marry him already,” she said. She gave you a kiss on the cheek and hugged you a little bit tighter before falling asleep.

ROY finally came back home, it was super late and he had several new wounds. You were asleep and he was entering his room quiet. However, when he saw you and Lian in his bed, his heart started beating fast again. He looked at you, you were sleeping and you looked cute in his baggy t-shirt. He looked at Lian, who was also sleeping and looked adorable with her long black hair and the way she hugged you. He sighed and removed his suit. He didn’t make any noise to try and wake either you of up. He went to take a shower, you woke up at the sound of the shower turning on. “Roy?” you whispered softly. You got out of the bed and went to his bathroom. “Roy? What took you so long?” You stood infront of the showerr door. When he heard you whisper his name, he started blushing, but kept the water running. “I went on a mission, I’m a bit beat…” he replied in a raspy and soft voice. “Are you okay? Do you need me to patch you up?” You asked softly. “No, I’ll be fine.” he replied still sounding a bit soft. “How long did you and Lian sleep in bed with each other?” He questioned. “I don’t know what time is it?” You yawned. “Uhm, two am.” He replied. “We went to bed around midnight, Lian woke up from a nightmare around 11.” He stays quiet for a moment. “Did Lian ask to sleep in my bed or did you put her there..” he asked, still sounding soft. “I put her there because I knew she would sleep better in your bed. Plus I was tired too.” You smiled. You heard the sound of the water running down the drain. “You wanna hear something adorable?” You giggled. The sounds of your giggles made his heart stop. He stays quiet again, curious. “Yes? What is it?” he replied. “She called me mommy.” His eyes widened. He was blushing, “She did?” You giggled again, “Yeah, she seems to think that you’re going to marry me.” He stayed quiet again. “What did you tell her?” His heart was pounding. “That I’m just here to help you take care of her.” He stays silent again. “And what did Lian say?” You giggled again, “That she really wants me to marry you.” He stayed quiet this time, blushing. He was conflicted. You could hear something in his soft voice, and you started to think that the reason he was blushing was because he had such intense feelings for you. “Roy? Are you good in there?” You asked him.

He then opened the shower door, slightly covering himself with it, he stared at you. You looked so gorgeous in his shirt. Roy looked conflicted and then snapped. “Just once to get it out of my system,” he mumbled. He pulled you into the shower. “Roy? What are—“You were interrupted by Roy intensely kissing you. You could barely breathe. “Just once.” He mumbled. The water was completely soaking the clothes you were wearing. He pulled away and looked at the wet t-shirt. It was completely see-through. It showed off your breasts and your nipples were hard and prominent. You were so aroused and in the moment. “I—I don’t—“ you tried to speak but he put his hand on your mouth. “Just enjoy it,” he says after taking his hand off your mouth. He started kissing you again. He pulled away again, “I just need to fuck you once to get it out of my system.” He growled. He pulled off the wet shirt and threw it next to you. You were speechless. “God you’re so gorgeous.” He growled. He pinned you to the shower wall and pulled off the sweatpants, revealing you didn’t have any underwear underneath, he chuckled. “You’re such a tease you know that? Wearing those little belts you call a skirt?” He teased. You were blushing, red, and so nervous. “Roy.” Was all you could say, and you couldn’t say it with a loud enough voice, you sounded like a whisper. “Roy stop— You can’t…” He groaned, “You want it, baby. I know you wanted it on my couch the other night. I saw the little wet patch on those pretty little panties.” You froze once you heard him say that. “How?” That’s all, that was the only thing you could manage to say. “Your legs were propped up, gave me a perfect view.” He groaned. He started grabbing your ass so tightly that it could leave a bruise. You were such a shy, nervous mess. “It’s okay baby. I know you want me, you don’t have to worry.” He cooed, “Such a pretty girl. Just need to bury myself in you just once.” He mumbled. You were blushing, extremely red now that you were finally admitting it to yourself. You never felt these feelings towards anyone, but Roy just did something to your body that made your body feel like fire, feeling him near you made you melt into his hands. “Such a good girl, you’re so fucking naughty but you’re so fucking sweet.” He mumbled. “What do you want me to do to you?” You were biting your lip and your face was still glowing red from the embarrassment. “I don’t know to be honest,” you whispered. You were completely blown away by him. He grabs at your hips, pulling you into him. “Well, don’t worry. I know exactly how to treat you, princess.” He kisses you softly first, on your lips. His free hand goes to your thigh. “I’m not going to waste a minute, baby. I want to take you right here, right now, just as much as you want it.” You were so ready to burst with emotion and pleasure right now. He chuckled, “You’re only going to want older men now, baby.” All of your fears were being blown away and your mind was turning white again because of how you were feeling right now. His touch was so warm and caring, almost loving. You kissed him back and started to feel his touch all over you while you did it. “Just once baby, just once to get it out of my system.”

[ellivenollivander]

Valentine's Day

@halfwisteria suggested a Pre-Valentines Day scenario for Amit, a few weeks ago and I finally got inspired to write something for it! Rating: 18+ for insinuations Summary: MC loathes Valentine's Day because she's lonely and desperately in love with her best friend. For two Ravenclaws they sure are dumb. Pairing: Amit Thakkar x F!MC Word Count: 4,329 (LOL) A/N: Aged up characters (seventh year at Hogwarts), broody MC, Sebastian Sallow cameo!

MC had half a mind to simply lock herself in her dorm room, bed curtains tightly closed for all hours of the day until the fifteenth of February. 

Perhaps she could convince her professors she had come down with a terrible case of spattergroit and simply did not wish to be seen by anyone. It seemed like a reasonable enough excuse, though the more she thought about it on her walk to History Of Magic, she realized they would probably have her whisked away to the hospital wing where Madam Blainey would see by her clear complexion and ability to speak that she definitively did not have spattergroit. 

She grunted against the door of the classroom, rolling her eyes at Adelaide and Evangeline who were giggling around a bit of parchment when she entered, scowling at the little hearts they were taking turns drawing along the edges. 

It wasn’t that she hated romance or love in general, but the sudden public displays of it this time of year were starting to grate on her already frayed nerves under the stress of her NEWTS. It had absolutely nothing to do with the longing she held for her best friend, who was sitting in his usual spot in the classroom. His schoolbag tucked into the chair at his side, for her, his body curled over a book laid on the table. 

MC gave Amit a halfhearted grunt as a greeting as she slumped into her chair, resting her head on the table. Half hoping that if she licked the dirty surface beneath her face she really could contract spattergroit. Surely it would be better than having to suffer hormonal teenagers groping one another in the corridors of a school. 

Amit’s laugh as he shoved her shoulder with his own had her turning her head to look up at him. Her heart performing an involuntary somersault at the amusement in his kind eyes. 

He pressed a finger against her forehead, pushing her gently, eyebrow quirked.

“You alright, MC? You seem… upset. Not that it’s a bad thing or that I’m upset by you being upset. It’s okay to be upset. But you can talk to me if you are.” 

MC laughed softly, with her cheek still resting on the table, letting Amit run out of breath. 

“I just hate Valentine’s Day. Makes me want to toss myself off the Astronomy tower. I swear if I see one more pink heart or one more couple practically fornicating in the corridors I’m going to do so.” 

Amit stifled a laugh of his own, rolling his eyes at his best friend's favorite threat against her own life at every minor inconvenience that befalls her. 

“Well then, you might want to keep your head down because Andrew Larson and Lenora Everleigh  are…” His face fills with a blush and contorts into something crossed between curiosity and disgust, his gaze somewhere behind her head. “… probably better off skipping class altogether and finding a broom cupboard.” 

MC whips her head around, curiosity getting the better of her. She indeed witnesses Andrew pressing Lenora against the wall of the classroom, shoving his tongue down her throat. 

She turns back to Amit, her eyes rolling so far into her skull she thinks she may sprain something. 

Amit just laughs at her, his face now back to normal with his eyes back on his desk. 

“I told you not to look, to be fair.”

“But you knew I would!”

“Astronomy towers that way.” His finger pointing absentmindedly in a random direction, a smile still tugging at the corners of his lips. When she made a move to stand, he pulled her back down by the sleeve of her robe.

“Stop that, it’s not that bad, really. They’re just in…love.” His eyes were soft, almost pleading when he met her gaze. “You should let them enjoy it.”

“They’re not in love, Amit. They’re hormonal and I’m not stopping them from their attempts to contract every venereal disease possible, I’m simply stopping myself from having to witness it.” She knew she sounded bitter, lonely even. Though she couldn’t help it much, and she was saved from Amit’s further lecture by Professor Binns’ own. 

Despite every other student getting to catch up on their sleep during this particular class, She was forced to stay awake alongside Amit. If she dared even blink for too long, he would pinch her beneath the table. He couldn’t force her to pay attention to the droning of their paranormal professor, however, so she entertained herself with thoughts of how best to avoid actually existing in the school for at least the next several days. 

She was working her way through a delicious scenario involving being dragged to the bottom of the Black Lake by a pack of vicious grindylows when a piece of parchment smacked her square in the forehead. She scowled at Amit, assuming it was his feeble attempt to pull her back to the dissolution of the wizards council, but he was staring straight ahead, taking his usual notes. 

She frowned and picked up the parchment, but before she could unfold it, her attention was drawn to the table ahead of her, where she was being psst at. 

Adelaide Oakes was staring at her with a wide eyed look and a red face as she frantically pointed at Amit, while Evangeline giggled beside her. MC bristled, mind going back to the parchment the two Hufflepuffs had been fawning over when she had entered the classroom. 

She contemplated walking up and shoving it down her peppy little throat. Instead, she slid it over to Amit and tapped his arm to point it out. Feeling a bit satisfied when he glowered at it before shoving it into the pocket of his robes. Losing a bit of that satisfaction when he hissed at her for writing him notes during class, when she should be paying attention.

MC had to take a deep breath to avoid setting fire to the classroom. 

“It wasn’t me, Amit. I-” She was about to tell him that if she had a mind to declare her love for him she’d do it in person, not in a damned note like a lovesick third year. Then she realized she did love him and had no mind to do any such thing. The fear of losing his friendship, greater than the desires of her heart. “Well, aren’t you going to read it? Then you’ll know it wasn’t me.” 

Amit waved her off, and she let him. If only because she recognized the growing look of irritation on his face at missing the lecture. MC really did try not to take pleasure in the way Adelaide’s face fell when she watched the receiver of her wretched little note shove it into his pocket with a scowl, but she was only human and she bit back her smile as she returned to daydreams of a different kind. Ones much less morbid, and a bit more on theme for the tone of the castle these days. 

When class was dismissed, Amit had to rouse her from her fantasies with a pinch to her arm and a chastising look.  She followed him out the doors with a grumble, nearly having forgotten the note until Amit pulled her into a corner, his hand fishing into his robe pocket and pelting her with questions. 

MC stomach twisted with anxious nausea as he retrieved the parchment, after she explained what she had seen, his hands shaking and face flushed. 

She recoiled when he thrust it at her. 

“What?! No! It’s for you!”

“I can’t do it, MC. Please.”

She softened, just for him and the desperation in his eyes, and took the note between her thumb and forefinger. He pulled it back before she could take it from his hand. 

“No! You're right, I should read it. I should do it, she wrote it to me.” His shaking hands held the parchment, while his thumbs ran anxious circles over it. “Who wrote it? Adelaide or Evangeline?” 

“Do you have a preference?” MC’s tone was laced with more venom than she had intended, and she winced at herself. The fall from the Astronomy Tower was sounding more and more ideal, as she watched the man she loved look so giddy at the prospect of two girls suddenly showing interest in him. As if the girl standing in front of him hadn’t been devoted to him since their very first astronomy class, back in fifth year. 

She took a deep breath, attempting to fight back the angry green monster rearing its ugly head. She could reconcile her annoyance with either Adelaide or Evangeline, but the guilt of snapping at her favorite person in the world had her taking another deep, steadying breath. 

“I just mean, I wasn’t aware you were interested in either of them. You’ve never… told me.” It felt like it was taking everything inside of her to act natural, to not betray the lump in her throat or the queasiness of her stomach. 

“Adelaide’s nice! She’s really nice, did you know her Uncle works with goblins? He’s a metal trader! Oh and Evangeline loves history, she and I bump into each other a lot in the library. We share book recommendations with each other. Do you… do you know anything else about her? I know she helped you restore the bells for the school.”

MC had to bite back her retort of how Evangeline did not help with anything. How she had sent her up with nothing but the knowledge that bells had to be restored. It had taken her 45 minutes to get the bells to do what she wanted, in the furnace that was the music room. 

Instead, she took another deep breath. 

“Why don’t you just read the note, Amit. Then you can decide who your future wife is.”  

This time, she managed to keep the bile down where it belonged, and her voice teasing in lieu of malicious. 

“It’s just a note, MC it could be… it could just be her asking for my help with Astronomy or… or maybe she wants to borrow my notes…” He has finally begun to unfold the note, and MC let’s herself believe Amit’s innocent attempts to guard himself against the hope of someone crushing on him. MC knows better, she saw the blushing girls’ faces and heard their giggles. But the flicker of hope was enough to keep her from lighting the parchment aflame with her gaze alone. 

The thirty seconds it takes Amit to open the note, and read its contents feels like hours. His face blushes a deep red, and he’s got a smile on his lips that MC has only seen in rare circumstances of extreme happiness. She wants to use her own skull as a battering ram against the stone wall. 

“Well?” Her patience was running thin, and her skin was prickling with anxiety and pathetic pining. 

“Adelaide! It … it was Adelaide! She… she wants to know if I’ll be her Valentine. I.. I think that would be nice.. having somewhere to go with someone … she’s nice and.. and she’s cute don’t you think? MC?” Amit was staring at her, expecting input from his best friend, who at the moment was currently fighting tears or vomit, she was still trying to decide when he said her name again. 

She shook herself out, taking yet another deep shaky breath. 

“If that’s what you want, Amit.”  

She meets his gaze, and he seems to falter. His mouth opening and closing in silence before he drops her gaze, looking back at the note still laying in his hand. 

“Yeah… I think it is. I think it will be nice. And fun! It’s just one day right? It doesn’t hurt to explore it! I’m going… I’m going to go find her and .. and set something up.” 

He slides the note into his pocket, and walks away, feet moving quickly to try and catch up to the two girls who had left the hall arm in arm. Leaving MC standing alone, still feeling a bit sick. 

She nurses her broken heart alongside Sebastian, who had taken minimal convincing to skip Potions class to sling curses in the Undercroft.

It doesn’t take him long to pick up on her agitation, when he has to repair the dummy they nicked off of Lucan, after she had casted a particularly powerful bombarda. 

When the dummy is as good as new, he turns to meet her unapologetic gaze. 

“Alright, what’s got you so pissed off?” He stands between her and the dummy, arms crossed in front of his chest. She’s equally irritated and grateful for how well he knows her. 

MC feels herself deflate, feeling safe enough to be vulnerable with the man she sees as a brother, here in their little sanctuary. 

“Can’t I just be pissed off for no good reason?” His amused smirk at her response eases her nerves even further.  That, coupled with the exhaustion from their spell practice has her dragging her feet to a crate and slumping on to it. “… I just hate Valentine’s Day. I hate seeing all of these vile couples and their disgusting love and their awful public displays of affection. It’s as if someone has gassed the castle with amortentia.” 

Sebastian joins her, his knee knocking against hers playfully as he sits beside her. 

“Are you jaded, MC? You’re sounding quite jaded.”

When she shoots him a glare, he doesn’t miss a beat. “Lonely, then?” 

When she visibly tenses, he lets out a small laugh, his face still kind and concerned despite the humor he finds in seeing his friend in such a state. MC considers switching targets for her spell practice. 

“MC, I could point my finger at any man in this castle and they’d fall head over heels at the chance to take you out.” 

She scrunches her nose at the notion, rolling her eyes as she stares at the stone floor of the Undercroft. 

“Well, I don’t want just any man. I’m not just going to throw myself at anything with a pulse.” She meets his gaze, and continues on. “I may have my eye on a specific man…” She trails off, balking slightly in the face of her confession. When Sebastian’s eyes widen, and he runs his hand over the back of his neck, uncomfortably she stares at him in confusion. 

“MC… I’m flattered, really. But… I see you as more of a sister… and I’m with Poppy.” 

MC sputters, fighting back the urge to vomit on the floor at the thought. 

“Gods, no, not you!” She throws in a gag and a look of disgust for good measure, clearly his ego could use the blow. “You're like a brother to me.” 

The awkward tension immediately dissolves with their shared laughter and MC feels herself feeling lighter, braver. 

“It’s…Merlin, I’ve never admitted it out loud before.” She takes another deep breath, and stares at the floor. Her head filling with her dark haired Ravenclaw, his kind eyes. His passion for knowledge. His ability to love unconditionally anyone or anything he deems worthy. 

“ItsAmit.” She admits it quickly, like pulling a sliver. Her eyes unwavering in their gaze on the floor. She can feel her cheeks heat in a blush, she doesn’t have to look in a mirror to know that her face is crimson red. 

“Oh. That makes sense… So tell him, ask him out for Valentine's Day.” Sebastian’s knee knocking against hers was meant to be comforting, yet she still wrinkled her nose at the suggestion. 

“First of all, ew. Second of all, I can’t… he’s going out with Adelaide Oakes.” MC cannot hold back the venom in her tone at the name of the girl she’s seething with jealousy towards. 

When Sebastian is silent, she glares at him. He looks deep in thought, staring at the floor. She punches his shoulder, perhaps a bit harder than necessary to draw his attention back to her and her self pity. 

His face immediately splits into a cheeky grin, mischief flashing in his eyes as he turns back towards her. 

“Sorry, was just thinking about them as a couple. It’s cute. They have my blessing.”  

MC punches him again, this time definitely harder than necessary. He clutches the injured spot on his arm with a loud laugh. 

“Right. Sorry. I’m meant to be comforting aren’t I?” 

When MC continues staring at him in disbelief he laughs again, punching her shoulder back. As gently as he can. 

“I think you should tell him. What, Are you scared?” 

They both know that he’s teasing her, but when she grimaces at the question, he lets out a soft oh. Then collects himself, rubbing her shoulder in an awkward attempt at comforting her. He’s grateful when she shrugs him off. They’re close, like family, but physical affection between the two friends was rare at best. 

“Not scared of telling him, not really anyway… but scared of losing what we have. He’s my best friend, Sebastian. I don’t know if I could live with myself if we lost that. Our connection, our comfort with one another.” She sounds exasperated, like she’s stuck between a rock and a hard place. She ignores Sebastian feigning hurt at the enunciation she had made at the words best friends, his hand held over his heart. “I just feel as though it’s not worth the risk. I’ll just have to find a way to live with feeling this way about him.” 

Sebastian heaves a sigh, his hands running through his hair, evidence of his concentration.

“You’re sure it’s not just a fleeting feeling? The season clouding your judgement?” His hands waving softly in the air. “Hormones?” 

MC heaves a sigh of her own, and when she meets Sebastian’s gaze once again, her eyes are wet with tears of longing.

“No, Sebastian. I wish it was fleeting. I feel like I’m walking around with my heart in a vice. I love him. I’m in love with him, and I think I have been since I met him.” She hates the way she sounds, desperately pining after her best friend. The regret of not acting on her love for him months ago, making her chest constrict, bringing bile into her throat. She wipes her eyes with the sleeve of her uniform, tears now falling freely at sitting in her regret, her desire. 

Gratitude finding its way into the compounding emotions she was being overtaken by, when Sebastian turns away. Pretending to be interested in the tower of discarded furniture in the corner. She’s thankful for his small act of mercy. 

“Do you want advice? Or do you just want to wallow?” His voice is soft, through the chastising tone. They both know this isn’t her, always having been the girl to face every challenge, every obstacle, with her head held high. 

She manages a small laugh, wiping away the last of her traitorous tears. 

“We both know you’re going to say what you want to say anyway.” 

He makes a sound of agreement, deep in his throat before he turns to her. His hands rolling his wand between them. 

“I know you, and I know Amit, thanks to you. I think you should tell him. Even if” He holds his hand in her face when she opens her mouth to object. “Even if the feelings aren’t reciprocated. The two of you would get through it. Don’t think either one of you would much like to be without the other, in any capacity.” 

~*~

Back up in the Ravenclaw common room, Sebastian’s words are still ringing in her head as MC stares at the ceiling from the couch she had claimed for the past few hours. Quite literally lying in wait for Amit to come back from the library. 

Every sound near the door had her ears perked up, eyes moving towards it like a dog waiting for the return of its owner. She felt downright silly, but her mind could be occupied by nothing else but the proclamation of love she was about to bestow on her best friend. 

Sebastian had promised her a raid of the kitchens for cauldron cakes and ice cream if it went downhill. She was clinging to that promise like an anchor in the sea of anxiety she now found herself in. 

Just as she was about to round on some poor second year to beg him to double check that Amit wasn’t actually in his dorm. He walked through the door, arms laden with books and a look of contentment on his face. 

She lurched from the couch immediately, putting herself between him and the dormitory stairs. 

“Can we talk?” 

~*~

Minutes later they stood in the cold night, wrapped in a warming charm above the Ravenclaw Common Room.

MC was pacing, her eyes on the toes of her boots, while Amit's eyes followed her, anxiety written into his features at the behavior of his best friend. 

Her stomach was tied up in knots, and she had to continually take deep steadying breaths to stop from hurling herself over the railing and falling to her demise.

Sebastian’s words are still ringing in her head. 

The two of you will get through it. 

Neither one of you would much like to be without the other. 

They spurred her on. She turned on her heel one last time, before facing Amit.

He stood up straight under her gaze.

“MC wha-” 

She cut him off with a shake of her head and another deep breath.

“No, I’m sorry. I just need to get this out before I lose my courage. Please.” She wondered for a moment which she’d prefer. Facing Ranrok beneath the castle again, or facing a potential rejection from her best friend when she confesses her love for him, above it. 

Amit nodded slowly, his voice caught in his throat, unsure of how to comfort the girl in front of him when he wasn’t being allowed to speak. He opted for a comforting hand on her shoulder, to which filled her face with a blush and she resisted the urge to lean into it. 

She held her hands up in front of her body, nearly touching Amit’s chest. 

“Okay. I’m not really one for dramatic speeches or reciting love poems or even drawing pathetic little hearts on bits of parchment and tossing them onto your coursework. But I need to get it off of my chest, and I know this is the worst possible fucking time, and could potentially ruin our entire friendship and sully every memory we’ve ever made together…” She takes another deep breath, her eyes shut tight to avoid watching Amit’s reaction to her rambling confession. “... What I'm trying to say, in a very long winded way is that… I’m in love with you. Have been in love with you, and I’m sorry.”

When it feels like far too many minutes have passed and Amit still hasn’t said a word, she risks opening her eyes. Finding him staring into hers, eyes wet with tears and face bathed in the soft light of the moon. 

“Do…Do you mean it?” His voice is soft, she wouldn’t have heard him if it wasn’t for the silent night around them. 

She’s taken aback by the question and she takes yet another risk, taking his hands in hers. 

“Of course I mean it, I wouldn’t lie or joke about something like this, Amit.”  

He sniffs, pulling his hands back to wipe his eyes before running them down his face. His voice jumbled when he speaks from behind them.

“I love you too.”

She’s sure she’s hallucinating, grabbing his hands again to make him look at her.

“Say… Say it again.” 

He gives her another soft smile, scoffing just a bit before he squeezes the hands that are still entwined with hers.

“I love you too.” 

Despite the euphoria slowly growing inside of her, she can’t help her mischievous smirk. Slowly starting to feel like herself again, feeling comfortable and safe with him again.

“Do you mean it?” 

He laughs softly, rolling his eyes.

Then he kisses her. 

His hands drop hers, and he cups her face, cold fingers sliding themselves into her hair as he presses his lips against hers. She makes a soft sound of surprise, before she melts into it. Her own hands clutching his robes as he leans into her, making her dizzy. 

When they pull apart, they’re both a bit dazed, smiles on both their faces, excitement buzzing between them. 

MC breaks the comfortable silence first, fingers still curled into the fabric of his robes as she stares into his eyes. 

“So what now?” 

~*~ 

Amit had tracked down Adelaide first thing the next morning, full of apologies and explanations. I’m in love with someone else. She had taken it gracefully, making MC feel nauseatingly guilty at the animosity she had held for the girl only days before, and it hadn’t taken long for her and the rest of the castle to pick up on the differences in the way the two Ravenclaws now carried themselves through the halls. Fingers laced together, blushing faces and disappearances into the restricted section when they were meant to be studying in the library. 

February 14th finally arrives.

It’s just after midnight when MC manages to catch a glimpse of the clock on Amit’s end table, through the crack in the bed curtains that were pulled tightly shut. 

She’s curled against Amit's body, in his bed, in his dorm. Her clothes lost somewhere in the blankets, having been long forgotten when her boyfriend had slid them from her body in the heat of the night, and the soft sounds of Amit’s heartbeat where she lay against his chest, were like a lullaby pulling her with him to sleep.

It was in this moment that MC decides she really doesn’t mind Valentine’s Day. 

[aching-tummies]

RP-Scenario: Too Much Dairy

RP-Scenario 'cuz my guts have literally been waging war on dairy all day. Write me a continuation--how would you continue this? Bear in mind that I'm partial to being a total sadist to a misbehaving tummy. I'm having trouble envisioning dialogue for this scenario so if you want to throw in dialogue lines or just submit RP-Lite that'd be fine too. Inspire me.

"Mmmffph...ugh...aaahh...s-stop...tummy...please stop...stop hurting..." I whimper and plead with my stubborn stomach as it clenches within me, twisting painfully and making me feel like something has wound my intestines up like one would twirl spaghetti on a fork. I've been curled up like a shrimp in bed for the better part of the last five hours. Apparently, my guts decided that we hate dairy today. Would have been nice to get a memo.

We stayed up last night. Secret-identity and social deduction games are my favorite and our friends decided to stay up last night to play a few rounds. We started around 10:30PM and I saw 4:31AM on the clock when we finally said our final 'gg's. Poor choice, but I decided it'd be fine as long as I grabbed coffee before my shift at work was due to start in about 6 hours. Not the best, but I promised to go to bed early tonight to make up for it.

A baptism of iced coffee probably wasn't how my stomach wanted to be woken up this morning and I guess it's been grumpy with me ever since. On top of that, when I arrived at work it turns out my coworker had decided to buy me an extral large hot coffee as 'thanks' for something I did for them before. It would have been rude to turn it down so I accepted it and alternated between the hot coffee and the iced one throughout my shift. The variance in temperatures and dairy did not play nice with my already-grumpy tummy, it seems. It was starting to feel uneasy around the last hour of my shift.

I walked by a bubble-tea place on my way to the bus stop and saw that they were having a special series on milk-tea. I got paid a couple of days ago and it's been a long and hard week at work (training new hires) so I decided to treat myself. I got a little something for you too, asking for no ice in case you're not home to drink it immediately when I get there (and therefore it won't dilute).

Upon arriving home, I found out that I was not the only one that bought a treat for the other. You stopped by our favorite noodle house and got us two combos...combos that come with more milk-tea. Unfortunately, the ice in your drinks is fading fast, so we have to enjoy them tonight. The other half of my own drink was left as an afterthought as we powered through dinner.

After dinner, you decided to hop back on the computer to game and do whatever. I mentioned turning in early and that's basically what I tried to do...only I realized that I still had half of my own drink to finish and boba gets hard if you leave it too long...so...well...down the hatch.

The glutinous boba was delicious. Unfortunately, that firm-ish, slimey gel ended up gumming up the works inside of the war raging in my guts. 'We hate dairy. We hate dairy.' I swear the grumbles from my guts are chanting that on a loop. I wouldn't be surprised if digestive fairies manifested and are inside, using spells to make my stomach contents churn and prodding absolutely everything with tiny pitchforks.

Iced coffee. Hot coffee. Boba milk tea. Straight up milk tea. My dairy count is at four--more than double what I'd planned. The sheer amount of dairy would have been enough to give me some nasty indigestion, but the greasy noodle combo and the boba are compounding the upset. It feels like the boba is gumming up my intestines, coating them and preventing them from working on the oily slurry of noodles and dairy. My guts are cramping like a vice every couple of minutes, desperately trying to make digestion happen and having no success.

I don't feel nauseous. All of this didn't come at me all at once--it was gradual. There isn't enough in any one part of my gastro-intestinal tract to cause me to be on the verge of puking...unless the toxic slurry decides to move backwards (which it hasn't yet...thank God). Pity. Throwing up might have made me feel just a little better. Getting some of that nastiness out of my system would probably help at least a little. Instead, I just feel like tiny grenades are exploding throughout my gastrointestinal tract. I swear, everything hurts, from my colon spasming (despite not having anything to offer the porcelain throne) to my esophagus burning with heartburn or an acid splash...or both. On top of it all, my stomach-organ and intestines have been churning away, being extremely vocal about the day-long torture inflicted upon them now that I've finally got a minute to actually be mindful of the sensations inside of me.

"Ugh...stop...please stop hurting!" I plead with my stomach, squeezing it tighter and trying to counter the vice-like cramp rolling like a wave through my intestines. I swear, it feels like a giant decided to pinch a section of my intestines between thumb and forefinger and run that squeeze through the entire length of the tube...like trying to squeeze the last dregs of toothpaste out of a tube or getting sauce out of a packet.

I spy my phone on the mattress--abandoned when the cramps in my tummy got too intense for me to ignore any longer. Reaching for it, I find the contact I'm looking for and hit 'Call'. I'm wracked by an intense cramp that feels like I'm being pinched in half and it causes me to press the phone into my spasming tummy instead of bringing it to my ear.

*Grbl...rrrr...rrrble...* My stomach sounds like a motor-cycle at a stop-light, contantly revving without getting anywhere.

The call gets disconnected and I've forgotten all about it, going back to begging my stomach to calm down and having my tears soak into the pillow. "Unngh...d-damn it--shut up!" I hiss at my stomach and slam a fist down onto it for good measure. Instant regret shoots through me along with the stabbing pain I feel from the impact site.

"You say something?"

You lean against the doorframe to the bedroom, curious as to where I've been since dinner. Your phone is held in one hand. Apparently, you got my call.

"Uhh..." A loud rumble from my stomach answers before I do. The sickly noise is quickly followed by another sharp spasm and I moan, curling even tighter around my aching abdomen.

"Was that your stomach?"

I see white for a moment, my hearing fading too as my entire world dissolves into the pain at my core. I can feel everything tensing up from colon to esophagus. I can't imagine literally having my guts rupture would feel much worse than what it feels like right now.

As I regain my senses, I feel a foreign weight on my aching tummy. You're stroking over it carefully, the foreign weight being your ear pressed against the crest of my gut.

"Mmmph..." I wince as I feel another spasm ripple through my intestines.

"Shh!" You shush me, wanting to listen to the chaos inside of me rather than me.

I don't even know what I can say at this point. "My stomach hurts"--no duh. "Please rub my tummy"--clearly, my stomach needs more help than I can give it to win whatever war is raging within me. "My tummy's really noisy and upset--something isn't agreeing with me"--thanks, Captain Obvious. On top of that, it appears that my stomach is complaining more than enough even without the involuntary moans and whimpers escaping my voicebox.

[banannabethchase]

Matt was so focused on a bit for BTE that he misses his flight out to LA, and finds himself stuck in North Carolina. How lucky is he that a certain cowboy, a certain ex, sees his sad Instagram post and is able to give him an alternative.

~

Song title inspired by Heart Upon My Sleeve by Avicii feat. Imagine Dragons.

I had all of this read to publish like half an hour ago then AO3 stopped working and deleted all the edits and formatting I did. So. I am Upset.

~

“I know, I know,” Matt says, propping the phone up between his cheek and shoulder. “Just go without me.”

“You’ll miss your flight,” Nick says. “You know that, right? If you wait too long –”

“Nick, it’ll be fine,” Matt says, a little too sharply. “I’ll get there. You two get to the airport.” Matt hangs up the phone instead of dealing with Kenny and Nick’s haranguing, going back to the camera. He really needs to get this bit filmed in a hotel room – if he does it in an airport or at home, it won’t feel right.

It's another three takes, another half an hour, which Matt doesn’t realize until his alarm goes off.

“Uh oh.”

That’s his get to the gate alarm.

Matt pulls up Google Maps to find that the airport is half an hour away, and his flight leaves in an hour. Before he can do anything else, Nick’s name pops up on Caller ID.

“You’re still at the hotel, aren’t you.”

“I lost track of time,” and Matt won’t admit it to anyone else, but he’s whining. “Are they, like, boarding?”

“Yeah, me and Kenny are in line to get on the plane, man,” Nick says. “You’re screwed.”

Matt winces as he looks around the hotel. He still has to pick up the hotel room, still has to call a Lyft, still has to wait for it, still has to check out. “I’m screwed,” he says in a small voice.

“Call the airport and see if you can get a later flight out,” Kenny yells into the phone. “There’s got to be other flights.”

“Please stop reminding me you’re on your way to LA and I’m not,” Matt grumbles. “The one week you decide to come hang out.”

“Keep us posted on the other flights available,” Nick says. “Hopefully there are a bunch.”

There are, he finds out an hour and a half later when he gets to the front of the line of the check in area of the airport, but they’re all four or more hours away.

“And I wouldn’t bet on those flights making it to LA,” says the airline attendant. She turns the screen so Matt can see it. “Big storm across the Midwest. Honestly, if I were you, I’d find a place to stay here and try a flight tomorrow.”

Matt fights the urge to whine. “Okay,” he says, deflating. “Yeah, I’ll. I’ll check out a hotel. Thank you, ma’am.”

“No problem.”

Matt posts an Instagram story of himself pouting in the airport, captioning it with, “Stuck in North Carolina.”

As he’s scrolling hotel options, he gets a text.

[12:47pm]

You’re stuck in North Carolina?

Matt refuses to get too fluttery over a text from Adam. It’s clearly just him checking in.

[12:48pm]

big storm across the Midwest no flights out until Friday night they said

There’s a pause, and the phone dings

[12:56pm]

Need a ride?

Matt panics about the response for long enough to make it weird, then makes himself text back.

[1:03pm]

Not unless you can get me to la

[1:16pm]

If you want, you can stay at my place until it all clears up. I drove into NC so I’m about to make the trip back

Matt stares at his phone, rereading the text three times before allowing himself to believe what he’s seeing.

[1:20pm]

If that’s too weird, you can pretend I never sent that. But I’m happy to help you get wherever you need to go.

Matt’s stuck here until he can get a flight out, probably in a miserable hotel room bed that'll kill his back. Or, he’s going on a road trip with his ex to his ex’s house, who he just recently got back on texting and speaking terms with.

Unfortunately, Matt’s better at suffering emotional discomfort than physical.

[1:26pm]

that would be great. im at the airport if you could swing by

[1:30pm]

Yeah of course. GPS says 30 minutes, but I need to pack up and get ready. I'll text when I'm almost there. See you soon.

Matt is half vibrating as he waits outside the airport. He looks like any other person, hanging out while waiting for their ride. But he feels like this is different.

He and Adam haven’t been alone together, really alone, for any significant amount of time for years. Matt’s knee starts going a little nuts as he sits on the bench, so he stands up and gives in to the urge to pace around the small waiting area.

And then a familiar truck comes by. A few new dents, what looks like a new interior. But it’s the same truck.

“Hey, stranger, need a ride?” Adam leans down and grins at Matt, and, god, Matt had missed his dumb little jokes.

“Hey, Hanger,” Matt says, throwing the smile back at him. He chucks his hard side suitcase in the back of the truck with a grunt then brings his backpack and carryon into the cab.

Adam raises an eyebrow. “Where are you gonna sit?”

“They fit!”

“They – they don’t,” Adam says. “I mean, the backpack probably can, but the – the little rolly guy, you’re gonna have to chuck that in the truck bed, too.”

Matt wants to argue, wants to say that there is important stuff in here that really shouldn’t roll its way around the back of a truck when rain could hit at any moment. But then he remembers that Adam is doing him a huge favor, and he relents.

“Yeah, okay,” he says. He tosses the carryon over the edge into the bed. “You don’t have a lot of stuff.”

Adam shrugs. “Didn’t need a lot this time, since all I had to do was drive down yesterday morning.”

“You drove four hours yesterday?”

Adam nods as he puts the car into drive and pulls out expertly around the manic airport drivers, making his way to the main airport road with ease. “I like driving. Redid the truck cab to make it even more comfortable.”

“I noticed,” Matt says, before he thinks about it.

Adam glances over at him. “You did?”

Matt nods. “I mean, I spent a lot of time in this truck, right?”

Adam starts to blush, just a little bit, and Matt absolutely didn’t mean it like that. “Um. Right.”

They make their way out of the airport mess, and onto the highway.

“Thanks, again, for this,” Matt says.

Adam chuckles.

“What?!”

“Thanks again implies you said thank you the first time,” Adam says.

~

Matt’s never been this uncomfortable in his life. The drive started off awkward, yeah, but this is somehow worse. It’s been two hours since they left the airport, and everything they do or say has made the cab of the truck feel like it’s airtight and the oxygen is quickly depleting. Adam keeps making random half comments, things Matt can’t even begin to parse, but shuts up before any of it makes sense. Matt has pointed out five cows.

They’ve maybe exchanged six full sentences since getting on the highway, and that’s being generous.

Matt’s leg is bouncing like mad and he can’t control it, just pulls his fingers into fists and wishes he knew what to say to make this less awful.

“So you wanna talk about why you’re freaking out, or are you just gonna let your leg vibrate the cab of my truck into the stratosphere?”

Matt exhales. At least one of them said something. “I’m fine.”

“Sure,” Adam says, laughing a little bit. “Because that,” he nods down at the way Matt’s knee is still going, “suggests a very normal and put together person.”

Matt adjusts so he’s got his legs uncomfortably crossed, forcing his knee down. “I’m normal.”

“You are fucking not,” Adam says. “It’s fine, though. It’s why people like you.”

Matt glances over at him, Adam’s eyes are locked on the road. “Sure. I guess.” Before he can say anything else stupid, his phone rings.

“Hey, buddy!” Kenny says. “LA’s looking great. But…” He trails off, frowning. “I figure answering means you didn’t get a flight out, huh.”

Matt shakes his head. “Nope. Yours was the last flight toward the west to go out, actually.”

“Where are you?” Kenny asks. “You sound funny.”

Matt can’t help but flick his eyes over to Adam when he says, “Um. Adam’s letting me stay at his place for a couple of days, until the weather clears up.”

Kenny’s quiet for a moment. “Am I on speaker phone?”

Matt clicks it up and holds the phone up to his ear. “Not anymore.”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Matt?” Kenny says, voice low. Matt hates being on this end of Kenny’s Dad voice.

“Everything’s fine, Kenny, he’s just helping me out.”

“This is a terrible idea,” Kenny says. “He’s going to hurt you again.”

“It’s fine, Kenny,” Matt says. His voice is tense. He can’t fix it. “I’ll text you when we get there or something. It’s fine.” He pauses. “And, uh. Don’t tell Nick.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ.” Matt can pretty much hear Kenny roll his eyes. “Fuck it. Fine. Just don’t get yourself killed, you dumbass.” And he hangs up.

“Sorry about that,” Matt mumbles, shoving his phone back into his pocket.

“Kenny seems,” Adam pauses, searching for words, “agitated.”

Matt shrugs. “He’s been weird the past few months about everything. It’s not you.”

They’re quiet for a while, and Matt wonders if Adam is desperately trying to come up with something to say just like Matt.

“I can drop you off at Kenny’s, if you want,” Adam says, hesitantly.

“No, it’s the opposite direction,” Matt says. “Literally. That’s not fair to you. Plus,” he squirms a little that he’s about to admit this, “I feel weird staying there without him. The walls make weird noises.”

Adam nods. “Yeah, I get that. The one time I visited there was this weird squeaking sound in the walls. Sounded like a mouse, but Dobby would have gone nuts over it.”

Matt processes that for a second. “You visited Kenny?”

Adam sits up a little straighter. “Uh. Yeah. Yeah, right before All Out.”

“You visited Kenny during the pandemic?” Matt asks. He has no right to be mad. He doesn’t. They were well and broken up at that point, hadn’t spoken in a few days. “What the hell, Adam?!”

“It didn’t involve an airplane,” Adam says through gritted teeth, knuckles white on the steering wheel. “And it was your fault for refusing to come stay with me right before everything shut down, anyway.”

“My fault?!” Matt yells, and he glances at the clock. Here they go. “You had just pulled that weird stuff at Revolution – you were acting like you didn’t even know me!”

“You could have spoken to me once!”

Thus begins the worst two hours or so of Matt’s life in a long damned time, which he knows because he keeps checking the time. They go back and forth, shooting long-forgotten accusations and angry defenses at each other like blows in the ring. Matt almost wishes they’d been able to do this in the ring, where he could hear the smack of Adam’s open palm against his chest instead of the words, “You cared about your stupid YouTube channel more than me and you know it!”

“I went to California so that Nick wouldn’t be alone!”

“Which means you were okay with me being alone!”

He wishes he could hear the thud of his body against the mat when Adam would powerslam him instead of, “Don’t pretend you gave a shit in the trio’s match, Matt, you just wanted another belt.”

“I asked you to be my partner first. Before Kenny was even cleared!”

“Right, because I’ll believe that.”

“You should, because it’s the truth, you jerk.”

They’re yelling about something that happened way back in Ring of Honor, a miscommunication when they were first dating, when they take the turn off the highway toward the little country roads that are a little too familiar to Matt. He glances at the clock for the millionth time, then back out at the charming roadside stores. And then Adam interrupts him.

“Stop fucking timing our argument!” Adam yells. “Fuck, Matty, you still annoy me the same goddamn way!”

Matt shrinks. “I didn’t think you’d notice.”

“You keep looking at the center display every, like, two minutes,” Adam says, voice calmer than it’s been in a while. “Unless you’re super interested in my mileage, which I doubt, it’s the clock.” He sighs. “Just like you always used to.”

“I didn’t just time our fights,” Matt says, his voice quiet. “I time everything. You know that.” He chances a glance over at Adam, who, despite fighting it, is unable to fully hide his smile. Matt can find it in the corners of Adam’s eyes.

“Yeah, I know,” Adam says, voice low. “Two hours seven minutes.”

“And fifty-three seconds,” Matt adds.

They’re quiet for a few moments. But Matt is stupid, and he wants the last word, and he’s still not over this one thing. “I just think it’s a dick move that you straight up abandoned us.”

“Would you stop bringing that up!” Adam half yells. “Jesus, you guys made it pretty fuckin’ clear you didn’t want me around anymore. Kenny was acting like a dick and you and Nick kicked me out of the Elite. Hell, even before the pandemic you acted like you were sick of me!”

“I did not,” Matt says, suddenly even angrier. “You don’t – don’t you dare say that.”

Adam laughs, a little mean. “Yeah. Sure. I bet you were just waiting to break up with me. Had to find an excuse, right?”

“I bought a ring.”

Matt waits as Adam corrects his truck from crashing into a mailbox. “You what?!”

“A ring,” Matt says, and it’s hell to keep his voice steady. He doesn’t know why he’s saying it – to hurt Adam, to help Adam, to apologize. To prove that he was always so much more in it than Adam was. To show that he put in the effort Adam accused him of shirking. “Revolution 2020? Yeah, I was planning on proposing that night.” He ignores the catch in his voice. “It was the four of us putting on the match of a lifetime at Revolution, but it would be you and me forever.”

Adam is silent, and Matt looks over to see him staring dead ahead, lips pressed together in a firm line. “You bought a ring,” he finally says, voice shaky and wet. “For – for me?”

“Yes, for you, you dumb idiot,” Matt half shrieks. All composure gone, he continues. “And then you almost hit Kenny with a Buckshot, and you wouldn’t even talk to me and Nick after, and – and you proved it was always all about winning for you.” He angrily rubs at his eyes, refusing to let any tears into this conversation. “Proved that I was only there to help you get what you wanted. And that wasn’t me.”

Matt’s glad for the seat belt when Adam takes a rapid right turn into a surprisingly secluded little area without a word.

“Are you gonna kill me in the woods?” Matt asks, trying to hide his worry. “This feels very serial killer, Adam.”

“I am not,” Adam says, voice disturbingly calm as he pulls into a practically empty campsite, “going to kill you.”

“Oh, cool, leave me to die in the woods, of course.” Matt will admit it: he’s a bit hysterical. Adam parks and it’s…it’s not comforting. “Cool. Good to know you’re still willing to drop me and leave me to –”

Adam leans over and yanks Matt into a kiss that he feels down to his toes, half crawling into Matt’s lap, and makes this miserable, tearing noise from the back of his throat. Matt remembers to kiss back just in time for Adam to pull away. “You stupid, self-centered, bastard,” Adam says, voice ragged. He’s crying, trails of tears down his cheeks. “I only ever wanted you, you dumb fucking – god, I could kill you right now.”

“Not super comforting,” Matt mumbles.

“Just shut up for once in your fucking life!” Adam yells. It feels like it echoes around the cab of the truck, sinks into Matt’s skin. “Matt, Jesus fucking Christ, you stupid – I walked away because I couldn’t stand what I’d done to you!” He pounds the steering wheel with his fist, teeth gritted together. “And – and then, before All Out. When I thought I’d have to – when I thought we would…” He trails off and finally looks at Matt again, eyes red and wet and face shattered. “I couldn’t hurt you like that again,” Adam whispers. “I left the Elite to keep from hurting you more. I couldn’t let it happen again in the ring.”

They sit in it, for god knows how long. Matt’s pretty sure they’re, like, a few miles away from Adam’s home.

Eventually, Matt has to speak. “I didn’t know that’s what you were thinking. I didn’t – I thought you. I thought you stopped loving me.”

Adam laughs and closes his eyes, dropping his head back against the head rest. “How the fuck could anyone ever stop loving you?” He turns to Matt. “How could you think I’ve ever stopped?”

Matt lets out this weird little noise. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying,” Adam says, turning his body to Matt. His hand is an inch away from Matt’s on the middle seat. “That the day you and Nick and Kenny came to have my back in the ring, I almost died. Because it was proof I might still matter to you.” He reaches up and cups Matt’s cheek. “That loving you for all this time made me worth another shot.”

Matt can’t fight it. He leans forward and catches Adam’s lips, climbing into Adam’s lap. He tries to tell Adam everything he hasn’t been able to say for almost three years, apologies, confessions, questions, anything he can think of. His hands cup Adam’s cheeks, thumbs brushing away the tears that make their ways down his faces.

His ass hits the steering wheel and the honk makes him jump.

“We, uh,” Adam says, eyes flicking to Matt’s lips, “we should get back to my – my house. We. We could.”

“God, please,” Matt says. He has to force himself off of Adam’s lap and onto the passenger seat. Adam doesn’t let go of his hand as he starts up the car and tears out of there like a bat out of hell. It’s only ten minutes before they pull into the long driveway in front of Adam’s house, familiar dirt and bumps that send something bizarrely nostalgic through Matt’s entire body.

Adam parks and turns to Matt. “I – I want –”

Matt nods rapidly, unbuckling and jumping out of the truck. Adam meets him around the front of the truck and they grab at each other on their ways to the door, Adam fumbling for the house keys and pressing Matt up against the door at the same time. The weight of him feels the same kind of thrilling, the same anticipation, as it always did before, and he almost falls backward before Adam catches him by the waist as the door pushes open.

“Bedroom,” Matt half pleads, “please.”

Adam laughs, turning them to shove Matt against the wall. “Yeah, Matty. I – yeah.”

Matt’s head spins as Adam gets two strong hands under his thighs and pulls his legs up.

“Just like old times,” Matt murmurs against Adam’s lips. He loops his legs around Adam’s waist and hooks them, and the balance is set so Adam can pull back from the wall and walk them down the hall to the bedroom. They don’t break away for more than a second on the way there, and it’s like they never stopped.

Adam half throws Matt on the bed and yanks his tee shirt off over his head.

“Aw,” Matt says, a little stupid already, “I wanted to do that.”

“Next time,” Adam laughs, and it sounds like a promise.

They kiss frantically for some time, hands roaming familiar planes of each other’s bodies, and Matt thinks he could melt into this moment and stay here for the rest of his life.

“I – I want you – I want you to –” Adam stumbles over his words, almost shaking.

“Slow down,” Matt says, and he reaches up to rest his hand on the side of Adam’s neck. “Hey, Adam. Breathe.”

Adam nods, still a little wild eyed, but he slows down and takes a deep breath. “I don’t want to mess it up again,” he says.

Matt sees the tears welling in his eyes. “Adam,” he says. “Hey. Adam. Nobody’s going to mess anything up this time.” He rolls them so he’s straddling Adam’s hips, hands pressing Adam’s shoulders to the mattress. “Adam,” he says again, because having the right to speak that name feels like a privilege, “I promise. We’re going to be okay.”

Adam sighs. “I don’t want this to be one time, Matty.” He settles his hands on Matt’s hips. “I can’t do this if it’s just pretend.”

Matt lets that settle over him. It’s a decent question – is this a spur of the moment? Or is this a road to what comes next? He thinks about it. He considers it.

And he speaks.

“Okay,” Matt says, smoothing his hands over Adam’s chest. “Yeah. I – don’t expect the ring, not yet, but.” He nods. “I want you to come back to me, Adam.”

Adam reaches up and yanks Matt down into another blazing kiss, his hands sliding up the back of Matt’s shirt, hesitating just a tiny bit. Matt leans back enough to let Adam pull the shirt up over his head.

“How do you look like this,” Adam murmurs, hands sliding up and down Matt’s back. The touch sends sparks through him, desperate for more.

“Weights, genetics, being God’s favorite,” Matt says. He grins at the way Adam rolls his eyes.

“Jesus, you never change.”

They fall into it, clothes strewn across the room in record speed, before Adam’s fingers skitter down Matt’s back to the top of his ass.

“Can I…?”

“Please,” Matt begs. “If you stop, I might die.”

Adam moves his fingers in a decision that makes Matt want to throw a shoe, but he reaches to the bedside table and pulls it open.

“Always so prepared,” Matt singsongs. His voice cuts off quickly, though, with the way Adam locks eyes with him. He drops lube on his fingertips.

“Lean forward, princess, so I can take care of you.”

 And there it is. That low voice from Adam, that focused control, that masterful understanding of Matt’s body and how to make it sing. His fingers work gentle magic, sliding into Matt and fitting like puzzles, and Matt can’t help but rock back against the touch. “More,” he whimpers, “too soft.”

“Patient, baby,” Adam says, leaning up to press kisses to the skin of Matt’s chest. “Be patient.”

Matt squirms, though, terrible with patience, and pushes down. “More,” he says, a little more demanding. “Come on!”

“Maybe I want to draw it out,” Adam says, fingers sliding at a pace almost excruciatingly slow, “maybe I’ve wanted this for so long that I won’t want to miss a second. Maybe,” he leans up, a little bite at Matt’s pec, “I want to make you wait.”

And, well. To Matt, that sounds like a challenge.

He rolls his hips down onto Adam’s fingers until there’s two, until there’s three, until he can feel Adam beneath his hips, rock hard.

“I’m ready, Adam, please,” Matt says. “I want you.”

“You have me,” Adam says, deadly serious as he looks into Matt’s eyes. “I promise.”

Adam slides his cock into Matt even better than his fingers, and Matt almost falls against him in relief. He never knew he could miss a feeling so much. “I missed this so much.” Matt’s almost crying with it as he rocks his hips, eyes fluttering shut as he angles better against Adam’s body.

“Me too,” Adam says. “God, you’re beautiful.”

They’re silent for some time, Matt doesn’t know, as they rock slowly, relishing the moment. They forgive each other over and over, with gentle touches and rocking hips, and with Adam’s hands resting gentle on Matt’s thighs. The weight steadies him, makes him feel whole.

He slowly opens his eyes to see Adam looking up at him with an ethereal little grin. He looks years younger, like he did when they first met on the indies.

“Adam,” Matt murmurs, “are you close?”

“Almost,” Adam says. “I – I could be.”

Matt stills immediately, and Adam stares at him.

“What?”

Matt grins. “Be patient, baby. Maybe I want to make you wait.”

Adam glares at him. “Oh, you’re a dick.”

Matt shrugs. “And?”

Adam laughs and Matt moves, bringing him closer and closer to release before freezing his motions until Adam relaxes again. Adam starts begging, pleading, singing Matt’s name beautifully.

Tears have gathered in the corners of Adam’s eyes again, for very different reasons, as he pleads again. “Please, Matt,” he gasps, “I need – I have to. Please.”

“Okay,” Matt says, on the edge himself. “I – you can come, baby, it’s time.”

“Oh, thank god.”

Adam gets an arm around Matt’s lower back and flips them, driving into Matt with single minded fury. Matt comes almost immediately untouched, the tension and the build crashing through him so hard he cries out Adam’s name and digs his nails into Adam’s back. Adam comes soon after with a hoarse sob, his face turned into Matt’s leg, and shoves himself into Matt one final time as the two of them calm down, bodies going more and more limp as the seconds pass.

“So, I know this is a weird thing to ask,” Matt asks, running his fingers through Adam’s hair, “but our stuff is safe in your truck, right?”

Adam laughs then pushes himself up so he can look at Matt. “Yes, it’s fine. My nearest neighbor is, like, two miles away. There’s no one out here.”

“So you can’t be sure there’s nobody living in your barn, waiting for you to come home so they can steal your food.” Matt pushes himself to sitting so he can kiss Adam before he steps out of the bed. “That’s a bit naïve, isn’t it?”

Adam shrugs and stands, stretching his arms out. It’s a good sight. Matt intentionally doesn’t look away.

“Come on,” Adam says, reaching out an arm. “Let’s take a shower. I remodeled it back in 2020. I think you’ll like it.”

Matt blinks. “Did you finally add the jacuzzi?”

Adam nods. “You were right. Changes everything.”

They wrap themselves around each other as they wash each other’s hair, as they clean themselves up, and Matt is unable to keep himself from the question. “When exactly did you do this?”

Adam doesn’t meet his eyes. “Finished it that May. I started it back when you refused to quarantine with me, when you were mad.” He fidgets a little. “I thought it would convince you to come back.”

Matt curls into himself. “Oh.”

They’re quiet as they dry off. Matt wraps himself in one of Adam’s giant towels and half fidgets while Adam gets changed. “Could you, um. Would you be able to bring my stuff into the car?”

“Yeah, course,” Adam says. “I know your thing about putting dirty clothes back on. Planning on getting your bag once I’m dressed.” He gives Matt a shy little smile and leans in, kissing Matt’s cheek as he does his belt. “I’ll be right back, baby.”

Matt sits down on the bed, cozy in his towel, as he watches Adam walk away.

And he thinks, maybe, the ring that’s still in his top drawer at home could soon find a home on Adam’s finger. Maybe, this time, he’ll be able to ask. And maybe Adam will say yes.

~

Mini Playlist: Heart Upon My Sleeve - Avicii feat. Imagine Dragons What I Need - Hayley Kioko Cowboy Take Me Away - The Chicks Back Together - Loote

[multiversemusings]

A Meeting of Fate

Originally prompted by @bakerstreethound Pairing: Doctor Fate/Kent Nelson x MReader Rating: PG Warnings: Minor cursing Genre: Fluff Word Count: 1,500 Plot: You rush halfway across the city to get from your dingy apartment in the heart of New York City to hopefully reach your class on time. But the universe has it in for you today because you get dizzy due to having no breakfast and slam into someone on the way there. Or does it? The man follows you into the nearby cafe and returns you textbook, but there's something very familiar about him. Song Inspiration: Movement by Hozier

A/N: I wasn't planning to do one of this character so soon, but I saw the prompts that my friend gave me and hot damn, my brain put them all together was like "HELL YES. DOCTOR FATE. HERE WE GO". So, we do lol.

All writings belong to @multiversemusings. Do not steal, repost as your own or take credit for my work. If you have a request, please put it in my inbox!

"I could never define all that you are to me."

You were running way behind. More so even than usual. The phone call that you had received from your sister in Africa the previous night had taken up almost all of your night and not only had you failed to finish studying for your semi-finals, but you had also barely gotten any sleep. It wasn't very often you heard from her since she had become a member of the Peace Corp over a year ago now, so any chance you got to talk to her, you took without hesitation. You got to hear about how she was helping a group of children to read English, how the women of the village nearby were teaching her to weave baskets and that she was apparently developing a bit of a crush on one of the local translators. He was apparently quite a charmer and often brought her small gifts from the city to keep her comfortable. You wished you had been that lucky to find a man who took your breath away as easily as Ronald did for her, you informed, which had made her laugh. It was a wonderful sound to hear after being apart for so long. Unfortunately, university didn't stop just because you stayed up all night talking to basically the person who had been your true best friend since childhood. At half passed the hour you realized finally that the sun was shining down on your face through the cracks in your blinds. As you grabbed your cellphone from the bedside table, you realized you had slept through your primary alarm and your back up on top of that.

"Shit!" you cursed as you tossed your phone aside and all but leapt from your bed.

Your usual morning routine that would have normally lasted you a little over an hour went by in a blur of twenty minutes which meant cutting corners on thing. You took a very quick shower, just enough to clean your body and wash your hair, ignoring the burning of the scar that you had recently sustained on your arm from a car wreck. You opted to let your short hair dry by air rather than take a blow-dryer to it or style it, put on a nice pair of jeans, a white tank top and a button down over it which you left open. You put on your Cons that you had gotten from your mother as a reward for making it into Uni before you actually shipped off halfway across the country to New York from that hole in the wall you called a hometown in Washington. You packed all of your textbooks into your bag along with your supplies and grabbed your keys and wallet from the tablet inside the door before leaving out the door. You didn't drive due to the accident you had been in, so your usual commute involved one ride on the subway, two buses and walking a block and a half to the school. You couldn't bring yourself to get behind the wheel of a vehicle again after nearly losing your life to a drunk driver and being in a coma for over a year. So everywhere you went, you took some other mode of transportation to save yourself from having to pop four or five anxiety pills just to make it through the rest of the day. But as you got off the second bus that you rode to get across the city, you were overcome with a strong wave of dizziness and had to grab onto the nearby sign to keep from collapsing. As you closed your eyes and held your forehead to stead yourself, you felt stupid for forgetting to grab at least a couple of pieces of toast before you left the apartment.

"Great job, that's the third time this month alone you've forgotten your personal health for this damn school," you scolded yourself. You groaned as the scar on your arm burned again. Once the wave passed, you corrected your bag and opened your eyes, heading off down the road. "I'm going to have to make time to get something to eat. Collapsing on the way to class would be defeating the purpose of rushing out the door."

Thankfully, you knew this area well enough by now that you were aware of a cafe not even a block from where you were that wasn't usually busy at this house, so you decided to stop in and get something to keep you from passing out. But as you rounded the second corner, your body felt like a camera shutter and you grunted as you all but collapsed forward. Your shoulder slammed into someone and jolted you back into your body as you dropped your bag, your books scattered across the ground.

"Oh my, are you alright young man?" the stranger asked with a voice rich like an expensive fabric. He steadied you and helped you kneel down as you held your head.

"Yeah, I'm alright," you replied as you lowered your hand to look at him. He was an older gentleman, with beautiful snowy white hair and a matching goatee. His eyes were the most stunning blue that you had ever seen, like a thousand untold stories the ocean had to offer. "I'm... so sorry. I'm such a klutz."

"Nonsense, you are clearly very weak from low blood sugar judging by the way you are shaking and sweating. I am fine so do not apologize. Here, let me help you gather your things."

"Thank you." Between the two of you, all of your things were gathered and put neatly back into your bag within a moment before you put it back over your shoulder and the two of you stood up.

"Will you be okay, young man? Is there a place nearby where you can get some kind of nourishment to bring your glucose back up to normal?" he asked, the worry in his voice made a pleasant tingle run down your back as he frowned.

"Yeah, South of the Broiler Cafe is just down the way, so I'm heading there. I'm still sorry for bumping into you, sir. Thank you for helping me pick up my stuff once again. Have a good day."

You nodded your head in respect before turning and finishing your short trek to the cafe, stepping in out of the damp, cold morning. The smell of coffee and morning foods filled your sense of smell and invigorated your mind just a bit to wake you up a little more. It also succeeded in reminding you that you were hungry and that's why you were here. As you stepped into line, your mind began thinking about the handsome stranger you had just run into. He was dressed in a very nice suit and wore three very expensive looking rings on his fingers, yet he had stopped and knelt to help you pick up your things. You couldn't fathom how someone like that hadn't yelled at you for running into them, let alone how they could kneel down on the damp New York sidewalk to help you pick up your books. Your mind kept going back to his eyes, their beautiful blue color, the way that they seemed to be looking right through you- A hand tapped your shoulder gently, so you turned to look over your shoulder and - as if your thoughts had summoned him to you - found the man whom you were just thinking of standing before you. He gave you a kind smile and you couldn't deny that your face grew about three degrees warmer than the air around you, and it had absolutely nothing to do with exhaustion.

"I believe you forgot one," the man informed you with a slight chuckle. When you looked at his hand, he was holding out your textbook Chemistry in Quantitative Language.

"Oh god, I didn't even see this one," you replied as you took it from him carefully. Your eyes met his blue ones, and again, he gave you that same look that made you feel like he was looking right through you. "Uhm… Can I buy you a coffee, sir? To make up for bumping into you in my airheaded rush and for returning my textbook."

"I think I would quite like that, indeed, Anpu," he replied, and you looked taken aback by the use of your nickname that very few knew. "Apologies, I did not mean to startle you."

"Who…are you?" You knew there was something important about this man because the scar on your arm hadn't been burning since you made contact with him on the sidewalk.

The man extended his hand to you, his smile never wavering even as it took you a moment to accept it.

"My name is Kent Nelson, and I have been watching you for a very long time, my friend." He brought your hand to his lips; his well-kept goatee brushed the sensitive skin of your knuckles and goosebumps erupted all across your skin as you lost your breath. He stood up right again and his eyes sparkled with a light only worthy of a romance novel. "And it is fate we have met here today."

[lolliboi]

weird as it is, I'm still here.

rainy dawn and also raindrops rolling from my eyes. life could be a little better if I had some money. I couldn't talk to alan again, but I guess there's no harm cause he found peace. I hope I'm strong enough to fight those people tomorrow. I hope I put a smile on her face. things will get even harder for me if she gives up. and also it's not fair to her not to feel okay. she's not the only feeling bad, tho. it will get everyone eventually. but it's harder for us. at least there's a holiday coming soon. actually I don't know if that's so good for me since it's my personal life that needs a break. but will be good for her. I stopped writing my tale mostly because I don't want to think about knives. but he crossed my mind yesterday and then I wanted to start writing about it again. there was a time when I could only rest when imagining him suffering. life's hard. I guess I can trust it to give him his share of miseries. I honestly hope he will never succeed. that he will never be happy. I'm damaged but his even worse than me. I hope no one will take him. ever. and I hope no one gets hurt trying to take him. believing like I did. about two weeks ago someone I love got into the same sort of situation. they trusted an ally and got hurt. violated. and I thought a lot of bad things I would never say out loud, that made me realize all the bad things I think about myself and also the kind of bad person I am. not that bad I guess. but a bad person indeed. still, they're a lot worse. all those people that can't hear a no, they think they know better. they could take a little violence from me. I used to think I'm above it but I'm not. and I'm embracing it. I'm angry and it's fine. I don't care about being soft anymore. I can be soft. I won't be all the time. she inspires me, I guess. the way she never hides when she's mad. the way she expresses it, and walks away whenever she needs to. it bugs me so much, I feel so uncomfortable. cause I know how people are gonna see and treat her. cause I know it hurts. and also cause I know I would never be that brave. but I hope I'll be someday. I guess I'm being brave in so many other ways. I still speak my truth, even tho I speak their language. makes me feel false, but I guess it's more effective. we're together in our own way, me and her, and I guess that's some kind of affection. some partnership. it still far away from what it should be, could be so many of us, but 2 is better than 1 anyway.

my skin is also a mess and I can't stop poking it. need to see a doctor about my back. gotta start taking cbd and see how it goes. can't remember the last time I had sex. gotta start exercising again. I wish I could afford a trained caregiver to help me get out of bed and do my activities properly. can't decide if this year is worse than the last one, maybe they're equally terrible for different reasons. I'm turning 27 the next month and I wish people could respect my wish of being completely alone this time. I have 3 hours until the construction's noise starts but I can't fall asleep. I wish grizz was real. sometimes I wish I wasn't. I miss when my dog was a little puppy and went to bed with me. I miss my stepdoggy so much. I dreamed about him 2 times last week. I've been bumping into their ex every week and can't help to think she hates me. I've never done anything to her. don't even know if they're still apart. not gonna ask, anyway. at least I won't see her again this week because of the holiday. I wish she liked me, tho. I think she's ok. even the skin on my back is bad now. I guess there's too much stress and not enough water. I'm so tired of thinking, typing hurts but handwriting is hurting even more these days. I hope I fall asleep.

[obiyuki-beebs]

unspeakable things; an excerpt

ObiYuki Madness 2022

Words: 757

I Will Find You

@snowwhite-andtheknight

Note: Hello! This is actually an excerpt from part 2 of a fic I’m working on for the kitty prize from last year ...  laughs nervously.  @eveluboi pls consider this a smol teaser. 

Hope you enjoy <3

Warnings: a bit gory? not super gory? but ya know. referenced injury, blood, general angst, abuse. 

---

Obi whipped down the stairs, worn heels of his boots slipping underneath him on the smooth stone of the tower’s steps. He didn’t have time to fall. He didn’t have time to make a plan. All he knew was that he had to get back to her. 

But what was he supposed to do?

Shirayuki.

He had left her in the room at the top of the stairs, begging quietly through gritted teeth to whatever gods there might be that the blood running down his front was his own instead of hers; but he knew the truth. The thick bandages he had wrapped around her middle were soaked, sickly and crimson in the dusky dark of morning. Any hope of using magic to heal her had been taken from them when their wands were destroyed. 

Obi rounded the bottom of the stairs and stopped suddenly, slamming a tight fist against the wall beside him as hot, unbidden tears made tracks in the dirt on his face. He put his hand on the dagger given to him all those years ago; finest iron, tempered in the heart of a dragon; a dagger that seemed to him to be the last vestige of magic he carried with him.

Outside, a thunderous clamor of the Kings guard rang through the air, a throng at least three hundred strong. Obi wondered if Zen was with them; whether he had been ordered to be there or if he had come willingly. Obi wondered if he would be able to protect her this time, too. 

“Dammit,” he whispered, mouth contorting as he fought back the urge to collapse in anticipatory grief. He pulled the dagger out of its sheath and stared hard at it, mind blank as he searched for a way. Any way. 

I would do anything to protect her.

The sharp blade almost seemed to glitter despite the darkness around him. 

And he thought that maybe he did have magic he carried with him; Obi pictured Shirayuki’s smiling face in his mind. He remembered the way her eyes looked when she had welcomed him home, celery-colored and brimming with tears. If his love for her wasn’t magic, he didn’t know what was. 

I have to protect her.

He wiped the tears off of his face and neck, spun the blade, and braced himself.

Then he stepped out of the door to the tower and screamed as he sprinted at the army surrounding him.

—

Kain Wysteria, King of Wistal, sat still on his war horse as he contemplated the keep before him. 

It would be easy enough, he thought, to just destroy it. 

They would both die. While he wanted the knight dead and gone, he had plans for the red-haired girl that necessitated that she remained alive and intact. Kain glanced over at the Second Prince, frowning at the memory of his son begging him to spare the lives of the two escapees. Zen, still sporting dark bruising from his punishment for such impertinence, sat stoically on his own horse. Kain observed his blank expression.

“It will be better this way,” he said aloud, turning away from sudden look of fear on his sons face. Louder still, he called to the group around him, “Prepare to engage.”

At that moment, he heard the scream; the last and desperate cry of an animal trapped and fighting death; the scream become a roar, and in half a breath, the air erupted in fire.

—

Shirayuki lay on the cold stone slab, her vision swimming with fields of black as she fought to stay conscious. 

Blood loss, she thought, and wondered if she even had the strength to check her own pulse. She could feel her heart thumping wildly in an attempt to maintain circulation in a body sorely losing the fight it was waging. 

She almost missed hearing Obi’s voice as he cried out; almost missed the way it changed into an awful, guttural roar. The tower walls shook violently around her in a sudden shift of air. 

“Obi…” she said, throat dry. She watched smoke drift past the broken wall of the tower. She wondered if it was real or if she might be imagining it; she wondered the same for the burgeoning silver light surrounding her like tendrils of berry roots, shooting in all directions. 

“Obi… I’ll find you. I’ll find a way to get back to you. We’ll find each other again. We…”

Whispering, she sank into the unknowing blackness, Obi’s amber eyes in the light the last thing she saw. 

---

....okay! happy madness! 

[alreadyjackbestfriend]

nightmares part 2. jack harlow x reader

Pairing: Jack Harlow x reader

Genre: angst, fluff

Note: after writing the sentence that it's going to be in bold letters, i thought of this song. this part wasn't inspired by it, but I feel like it captures its essence in a way.

part 1.

Haven't slept in a week or two, or two I think I might have fallen in love What am I to do?

you have spent almost a week ignoring jack successfully, you spent some nights studying at your friend's house, others locked in your room (obviously jack tried to talk to you every time he realized you were there, but you knew he was all about respecting personal space so if he knocked on your door and you didn't answer, he didn't try to force his way in), you were never in any of the shared spaces of the house where he could catch you, like the kitchen or living room, you muted his messages and you always arrived at the apartment when you knew he was not there. you even started to wonder if you had chosen the wrong career and you should be a detective or something.

You didn’t need to sleep anyway… although your body didn’t agree. one of your friends gently hit you in the ribs with her elbow, before the professor had the chance to realize you were falling asleep in his class.

It was Friday again, and when the class ended you decided that it was enough, you would go home and get some sleep. you said goodbye to your friends and made your way to the apartment, if everything was the same as before, neither urban nor jack would be there. But obviously, everything was not like before.

Urban was in his room with the door open, lying down in his bed with his laptop on his lap, “heyy, y/n” he said, when he felt your presence leaning against the door frame. He immediately noticed your deep dark circles, but didn’t say anything. You haven’t talked to him in all these days, and you missed him, after all, he was your friend, they both were.

“hey, what are you doing here?” you asked, and he looked at you confused, “it’s Friday” you reminded him.

“right” he laughed softly, “I have to finish this work by Monday, and I need a good grade” you nodded, and you closed the door and walked over to his bed, sitting next to him, forgetting your plan about coming home to sleep.

“ok, what do we have to do?”

You spent almost two hours reading and helping urban writing, and you both were so caught up that you didn't hear the front door opening a few minutes ago.

“okay, this is it for today, my brain is definitely not working anymore”

“thank you, y/n”

“oh, don’t mention it”

“can I tell you something?” you nodded, “I know that you are mad at jack, but you should talk to him, you haven't let him explain what happened”

“he has nothing to explain to me, we are not together, maybe we are not even friends, we are just… roommates” he pursed his lips and shook his head, as if he was disappointed of your answer, “let's leave it that way”

“if you say so”

you tapped his shoulder while getting up and left the room. While you were closing the door behind you, you saw jack in the hall, next to his door. He looked sadly at you, and entered his room without saying anything. you wondered if he had heard what you said, and felt the guilt run down your throat as you swallowed.

You tried to sleep with the lights on that night, but the only thing you managed to do was close your eyes and open them every half hour, trying to stop your body from going into a deep sleep.

***

The next day you spent the morning and the afternoon in urban’s room, reading texts for your classes while occasionally helping him with his work. At one point, he went to the kitchen to make something to eat. meanwhile, you lay down on his bed and closed your eyes for a few seconds.

“okay, that’s it” you listened to jack’s voice and opened your eyes immediately. He closed the door, leaving you with no chance of escape. he seemed really mad, and hurt. You got up from the bed, and looked at him “you're going to have to listen to me”

“I have nothing to listen to” you answered, and jack felt like he was going to explode because of your stubbornness.

“what’s happening in there?” suddenly urban's voice said behind the door

“go away urban!” jack yelled

“what the fuck bro it’s my fucking room” you heard urban said, and in any other context you would have laughed but it wasn't something you wanted to do right now.

Jack shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, “please just give us a minute, we'll be out soon”

“fineeeee” your friend said.

“you have nothing to explain to me jack, we are not a couple or anything”

“ok, then why are you mad at me?”

you didn't know what to answer, he was right. But then you started talking.

“because you kissed me and then you disappeared for two days! and you came back with another girl and I know I have no right, but I felt betrayed” you finally blurted out, a pout forming on your lips, trying to hold back the tears.

Jack looked at you confused, “when did I bring another girl here?”

“Jack” you sighed, “I heard her laugh from your room” you said, and saw realization on his face.

“oh, y/n, you got it all wrong, if you just let me explain all this” you crossed your arms over your chest, and nodded, giving him the opportunity to explain himself. he cleared his throat before speaking, “last weekend was a mess, I was a mess, I freaked out y/n, my feelings for you freaked me out. You know why I never tried to make a move on you? Because I have known you for six months, and I knew that as soon as we got a little closer, I would fall for you in a heartbeat, and that’s exactly what happened, and scared the shit out of me. I’m a normal person with fears, you know? Love is something that I’m afraid of, because when you are happy, that’s when things get shattered”

“I know, I’m scared too” you replied, and saw hope in his eyes. “but I didn’t run from you. And how do you explain the girl in your room? I tried to fall sleep even when I was scared of it, in case you decided to fuck her, I didn’t want to listen”

“but that didn’t happen, y/n, I promise you; you have me wrapped around your finger for gods sake” he said, with a frustrated laugh, ”I tried to be with someone that weekend, I confess it, but I couldn’t, because the only thing that I had in my mind was you. And this girl that was in my room came with her friends and they chose my bedroom to hang out because it was bigger than urban’s, and you know how hard it is for me to say no to people” he rubbed his hands over his face, “her friends left because they got bored and she was sitting on the floor smoking with urban and laughing with him while I was laying on my bed, checking my phone seeing if you gave any sign of life”

you felt your body instantly relax at his confession, but you still had something else on your mind “but you knew I needed you the night before”

“I know and I’m sorry, I fell sleep that night, I was wasted, and the day after I spent the whole afternoon throwing up. Then urban came here and saw you, and told me that you went to a friend’s house and didn’t let him explain what happened, and I though the worst.”

You looked at him not knowing what to say, you could see the desperation on his face, and all his explanations made sense, but you were hesitant… because the scenarios you formed in your head kept betraying you, you had a hard time believing how he had shot down each one of them.

“Please y/n, give us a chance. I was so afraid of testing a little of your love because I knew that after that I couldn’t let you go, and I’m so afraid that one of my worst fears is coming to reality exactly because of being a coward”

You spent a few seconds in silence, before you closed the distance and hugged him with all in you, he hugged you back, lifting you a little off the ground. Then, you moved your head to face him and you joined your lips to his in a slow and tender kiss.

When you broke the kiss to take a breath, you said: “I haven’t slept in a week”.

he looked at you with a tender smile, “let’s go take a nap”.

Needless to say, you didn't have a nightmare ever again.

***

I'M SO PROUD OF THIS, i haven't writed that fast and excited in years!!!! i really hope you enjoy it as much as i did writing it <;3

[tswaney17]

I Do Bad Things with You - Part 33

Happy @elainarcheronweek!!! We're celebrating Romance Day with a little update on this fic, ignoring the fact that it's been 84 years since the last one...🙈 I've been working around the clock on parts for this, hoping to get it onto a weekly posting schedule, but I wanted to do something special for Elain Week (and Az week 😉). This isn't a super long update, but it sets us up for the next one. Which, I think you'll really like. 💋 Anyways, hope you enjoy it! I had a lot of fun with this piece. It was inspired by a few individuals. They know who they are. 💙💜💚

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics​​​

My ao3 account: tswaney17

Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 💕

Catch up here.

Credit to @featherymalignancy for Cassian’s nickname, Cash. 😘

Trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault (minor mention), language, NSFW

Word Count: 5,448

Elain woke to her alarm going off at a quarter to six, Azriel having already slipped from their bed at five for his morning workout with a kiss on her bare shoulder and another on her lips when she offered him a sleepy smile. Since they had officially become a couple and she started back at work a few weeks ago, they had fallen into a comfortable, steady rhythm. They worked around each other like magnets.

It was easy, even with her ever-changing shifts, which he took in stride and did whatever he could to compensate for them. Elain was so grateful for Az’s go-with-the-flow attitude when it came to her schedule, dropping her off for late evening call-ins and picking her up at ungodly hours in a delicious pair of grey sweatpants and black sweatshirt that she wanted nothing more than to snuggle into when they got home.

They still hadn’t crossed that line in their relationship and she knew it wasn’t because her body hadn’t been prepared for it. But every time they got close, her mind seemed to lock down and she froze. Elain hated herself for it. One, because she wanted to move forward with Azriel—ached to take that next step with him. And two, she felt like she was disappointing him in a way by continuing to hold off, though he’d deny it fiercely. It was still something she had concerns about in the back of her mind.

He had made her feel safe, knew he’d take it slow with her until she felt comfortable in her own body and skin; would never push her into anything she wasn’t ready for. Though Azriel seemed like a male in charge, Elain knew she would have complete control when they finally took that step.

Her mind had wandered so far into her worries, that it took the knock on the bathroom door for her to realize she had been on auto-pilot the entire time and was currently in the shower washing her hair.

“Elain?” Azriel called through the door. “Do you mind if I come in? I need to shave this morning.”

“That’s fine, come in!”

He padded in, already stripped from his workout gear, and was down to his boxer briefs. Every chiseled piece of him on display—well, almost every piece of him. Though the tightness of those black Calvin Kleins did nothing to hide what was stored beneath.

Elain swallowed hard as she watched him make his way toward the towel rack.

Grabbing the white cloth, he slung it around his hips and then worked his underwear down his legs and stepped out of them. Opening the shower door, he beckoned her forward. “C’mere.”

She felt everything turn red under his scrutiny, though he’d seen her naked plenty of times now. Az felt inclined to give her a few orgasms a day. Some mornings he’d forgo his workout to “wake her up properly” as he put it. Others, he’d focus on her after work. Wanting to take the stress of her long day away, one release at a time.

Elain had the sudden urge to cover herself, feeling unexpectedly shy, but she didn’t as she stepped forward, out of the spray of the shower and to the open door.

When she was close enough, he used his one hand to grip her under her jaw and brought her mouth to his for a slow, sensual kiss. His tongue slipped between her lips; stroked hers in an erotic dance that had her knees going weak.

She moaned lightly into his mouth, hands sliding up his muscled chest till they could bury into his mop of sweaty hair. Elain didn’t even care that he had just worked out. Only that he kissed her so deeply, so heavenly, she felt herself pulse between her legs.

Az broke off their kiss, panting slightly, and flashed her a smile that would break a girl’s heart. “Good morning, beautiful.”

She laughed, her voice slightly husky from the kiss. “Someone is happy this morning.”

He gave her a pointed look. “I’m always happy with you, Elain.”

Her cheeks flushed at the double meaning and she shoved him out of the shower. “Go shave, you dirty bird.”

Azriel barked out a laugh. “You started it,” he stated, shutting the glass door.

She shook her head, eyes rolling as she finished washing her hair. Though she found it very difficult to focus on her tasks as Azriel stood over the counter, the sharp razor slowly gliding up the strong column of his throat. Shutting off the water, she opened the door and reached for her towel, doing a half-dry before wrapping it around herself. Elain used her second one to towel-dry her hair, then rehung it.

Her eyes followed the smooth strokes of the blades up his neck. Something about him standing there, looking like some sort of sex god in his low-slung towel, knowing he was nude beneath it, with a sharp object gliding up his throat made heat run south of her body and collect between her legs. How was shaving so damn attractive? Her mouth parted slightly.

Hazel eyes met hers in the mirror and he paused his movements. “See something you like, love?” he asked, a smirk pulling on his lips.

Elain folded her towel securely around her, strolling closer to him. He watched her closely, lowering the razor as she approached him on silent footsteps. She placed a hand on his back, reaching for the blade in his hand. “Let me finish for you.”

His brows shot into his hairline. “You want to shave me?”

The corner of her mouth quirked up. “Don’t trust me with a sharp instrument?” she challenged. When she managed to finally pull the razor from his fist, she added, “I promise not to mark up that pretty face of yours.”

Azriel laughed deeply. “It’s not my face I’m worried about, baby.”

Elain pushed him over to the closed toilet seat, having him sit down on top of it. “You do realize I work with scalpels and such for work. That my cutting has to be precise. My hand is steady. Your jugular is safe with me.” She reached for the hand towel and folded it to form a makeshift pillow at the edge of the counter. “Lean back.”

He did as instructed, resting his head on the countertop and supporting his torso with his abdomen. “This is not all that comfortable,” he admitted, laughing.

“Well, I suppose I’ll have to be quick then. Now shush.”

Elain was diligent with her work, making sure she got every single hair on his neck and face with each pass she made. She worked as quickly as she could, knowing Az was uncomfortable, a fact he made clear with a heavy breath he blew out every couple of minutes. Though when he started to fidget, she had to scold him. “Stop wiggling or I’m going to nick you.”

“Sorry,” he muttered, voice hoarse.

She paused, pulling the blade away from his neck to look him over. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, let’s just finish.” He swallowed hard and she tracked the movement with her eyes.

“Az…” she tried. Then she caught the fidget again as her eyes swept down his body and she realized why he was uncomfortable and antsy. “Are you, turned on by this?”

He huffed out an indignant sound. “Well, yeah! You’re standing there in nothing but a fucking towel, looking sexy as fuck, holding a blade to my throat, and apparently, that turns me on. Yes—I know it sounds bad, but fuck I’m trying hard right now to keep it contained and fighting a losing battle.”

Elain’s hand fell as her eyes searched his. This was it. She could offer herself to him in some way or another and give him what he clearly needed. “I—” she started, brows furrowing.

Azriel’s hand came up, knuckles brushing over her cheek in comfort. He waited patiently for her to speak.

Her heart clenched as her mind, once again locked down. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I don’t think I’m ready.” Failure weighed heavily on her like she was buried beneath a bed of sand. A brick formed in her chest.

“Hey,” he said, voice strong. “There is nothing wrong with not being ready, Elain. I can wait until you are; until you’re comfortable with moving forward. You know that.”

She sighed, head bowing. “I know. I just hate feeling like I’m disappointing you.”

“You are not disappointing me.” His hand curved around her cheek. “You could never disappoint me, Elain.” He brought her head down for a sweet kiss. “I would wait a thousand years for you. Forever.”

Elain huffed out a soft laugh, the air ghosting over his lips.

“But I’m not going to lie and tell you that this is going to go away on its own. So, once you finish, I’ll have you step out while I handle the situation real quick if you don’t mind?” His thumb brushed over the apple of her cheek.

She blushed as she murmured, “What if I didn’t? Step out that is.”

He blinked at her in surprise. “Will you be okay seeing me do that? Touching myself like that?”

Her cheeks heated even more at his words, at the thought of him touching himself. The image of a man jerking off had never been appealing to her, but somehow the idea of it being Azriel doing it to thoughts of her was undeniably sexy. Especially since she was the reason he got so turned on in the first place. Realizing he was still waiting on a response, she said, “If it becomes too much, I’ll leave. We said baby steps. Maybe this is one of those steps?”

Azriel regarded her carefully. “Baby steps,” he repeated and then smiled, pulling her down for another slow kiss. “Okay, please finish me up. My back is starting to twinge,” he begged against her lips.

Elain made quick work, completing the last two strokes up his throat, and then used a warm washcloth to wipe away the excess shaving cream. She hauled him up by the back of his neck into a proper sitting position. “All finished.” Threading her fingers through his dark mop of hair, she kissed his cheek, before cleaning up his razor and other shaving utensils. After a minute, she realized he hadn’t moved from where he sat. “Az? Are you going to shower?”

“Yeah, just trying to get myself there.” He took a few deep breaths. “I’m all right,” he said more to himself than to her. Rising from his seat he made his way to her, stopped to squeeze her shoulders, thumbs digging into the soft spots beside her shoulder blades that had her melting, and kissed the backside of her head. “Thank you, El,” though she wasn’t exactly sure what he was thanking her for. Releasing her, he strode for the shower, rehanging his towel and giving her a view of his bare, gloriously toned backside.

Holy fucking shit.

She had to grip the counter to keep herself upright.

If Azriel was an ass man, well, apparently so was she. Elain’s face reddened at her train of thoughts as she watched him in the mirror turn the water on. The frosted glass around the center of the shower prevented her from seeing anything directly, but it didn’t stop her from seeing the movements.

Az was gentlemanly enough to keep his deliciously sculpted back to her, but she watched his muscles ripple with the stroke of his hand that was wrapped around his cock. His movements were quick and long, and it almost looked like he did some sort of rotation.

She tried to look away, to focus on finishing getting ready. She really did. But Elain was mesmerized by how he pleasured himself. This beautiful, successful, undeniably sexy male, who loved her, cherished her, got turned on by her so badly he had to fuck his hand to get rid of his boner. Elain felt powerful by the knowledge.

And then his arm shot out, planting against the wall as he grunted and came. His large body heaved as his strokes quickened and he rode out his orgasm.

Elain’s body turned molten, the throb between her legs becoming nearly unbearable. She bit down on her bottom lip until she almost drew blood, breathing heavily through her nose. Grabbing the edge of the counter in a brutal grip, her head bowed as a small whimpering sound came out of her.

Oh, gods. Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods!

She glanced in the mirror to see if he had heard her and luckily found him with his head under the spray of the shower. Small miracles, she thought. Taking a deep breath to settle her heavy breathing, Elain clenched her thighs together and tried to refocus on getting ready for work.

Tried to.

~~~~~

Azriel knew Elain had watched him get off. He could feel her eyes on him. It didn’t bother him, her watching him pleasure himself—in fact, he reveled in it. The idea that she didn’t get uncomfortable enough to have to leave the bathroom had him reeling in pride. He had done that. Helped her reach that level of comfort and trust.

Opening the shower door, he reached for his towel and quickly wrapped it around his waist. When he looked Elain over, he froze. She was still in her towel, putting on mascara. But what caught his attention was the tightness of her body, her shallow breaths, and the very obvious clenching of her thighs.

She was hot from him and what he did in the shower.

He stepped forward. “El,” he said slowly, meeting her gaze in the mirror. “Are you okay?”

She lowered the wand from her lashes. “Fine.” A pretty lie. The throatiness of her tone would’ve given her away if her body hadn’t.

His eyes dipped down to the splotch of red on her chest. Another tell-tell sign of her arousal. “Why don’t I believe you?”

Elain closed the tube of mascara without taking her eyes off him, which was slightly impressive in itself, but she didn’t answer him.

Azriel took a step closer to her and decided to take a different approach. “Did you like watching me, Elain?” Her rounded cheeks were dusted with pink. “Did you like watching me stroke myself?” he questioned her, voice deep and husky.

Her legs pressed tighter together.

Checkmate.

“Are you turned on, my sweet girl?” he asked, reaching for her and tugging her body into his.

Elain whined, falling into his chest.

His hands ran up her bare arms, lightly touching her skin, tipping her head to the side to give him access to her neck. He dragged his lips over her pulse point; felt it fluttering faster than a hummingbird’s wings.

She hummed, reaching one hand back to grip his hip. “Az,” she moaned and gods, if that wasn’t a shot of adrenalin straight to his cock. He really fucking loved when she moaned his name. Elain let out a sigh. “We’re going to be late.”

“No, we won’t,” he murmured onto her skin. “I can take care of you quickly.”

A half-smirk pulled at her lips. “Think very highly of yourself, do ya?”

He growled, nipping at her skin, and twisted her in his arms to claim her mouth. Elain melted against him, hands clutching at his shoulders as his tongue swept into her mouth. He licked, claimed, and dominated her between her lips, an arm wrapping itself around her trim waist to keep her steady against him, the other hand tilting her jaw in a way he liked it.

Lifting her, Az set her on the edge of the counter and slotted his hips between her legs. His hands slid up her thighs, mouth sucking down her jaw to the sensitive part of her throat where it met her shoulder.

Elain’s fingers dove into his hair, tugging the damp strands hard enough to make him groan into her neck. Her back arched into his chest, hips wiggling in search of friction.

He made his way back to her mouth, kissing her filthily until she was left mewling. “We don’t have time for multiple orgasms this morning, so we’re aiming for one big one.” Azriel pulled back to look at her face. “Do you trust me?”

She was a panting, wanton mess. “Yes. Please, Az. Please just make it better,” she moaned, bringing his lips back to hers.

Groaning, he shoved her towel up to her hips and let his fingers skim over her slit. “Jesus fuck, Elain. Your fucking soaked.” He had found that, despite the trauma she had been through, Elain had a voracious sexual appetite, even if they had yet to fully have sex. It excited him to no end, knowing that when they did finally take that step, she’d have the will and the drive to keep up with his…stamina.

She whimpered, dipping her forehead onto his chest.

He looked at her then, took in her trembling body, and realized how badly she needed this. Wasting no time, Azriel dropped to his knees before her and threw her legs over his shoulders. His tongue swiped up from her entrance to her clit before he sucked it into his mouth.

Elain lurched, crying out, and grabbed at his shoulders, or what she could reach of them with her legs in the way.

Tugging her hips forward, he exposed that back, tight, ring of muscle. Az glanced up at her face, watching her closely as he slowly slid his tongue down to her lowered, puckered hole.

Gasping, her eyes flew open as her hips bucked onto his mouth, heels digging into his back. Lust darkened her normally brown eyes to a near black. Sweat beaded at her temple and dripped down her face, falling onto her chest that was now exposed—the towel having fallen off her and pooled around her on the counter.

Elain was a gorgeous woman, but mussed up and sex-addled, she was like an ethereal goddess. Releasing his shoulders, those beautiful, healing hands dove into his wet locks, gripping them in a way that had him groaning between her thighs. “Azriel, gods, please. More. I need more.”

Who was he to deny his queen? Inserting his index finger, Az realized how open and ready she was, and joined his middle with his first inside of her, pumping slowly. His thumb pressed down on her clit, circling it.

Throwing her head back, Elain smacked the mirror, crying out though he did not know if it was from pain or pleasure.

Azriel removed his mouth from her back hole. “Shit, are you all right?”

“Yes,” she tugged his head forward, back to where she needed him. “Don’t stop, please.”

He dove back in, letting his tongue swirl around that tight muscle, working it open for him as his fingers continued pumping into her. Feeling her body relax, he slipped his ring finger into her quivering passage, earning a sensually deep moan. But Az wasn’t finished with her yet. Coating his pinky finger in her slickness, he dragged it down to press against her back entrance.

Elain sucked in a breath, eyes flashing with heat and desire as he swirled her puckered opening.

Watching her carefully, he dipped the tip of his smallest finger into her rosebud, matching the thrusting of his three other digits and the movement of his thumb on her clit.

Back arching, she moaned, loudly, one hand leaving his hair to grab his shoulder on the outside of her leg. “Azriel,” she whined, drawing out the syllables of his name, and fuck him if that didn’t make him instantly hard. Grabbing his shaft with his other hand through his towel, Az stroked himself in time with how he pleasured her.

“Fuck, Elain,” he groaned, placing a sloppy kiss on the inside of her thigh. “You look so damn good, blissed-out, riding my hand like this.” He nipped the sensitive skin, leaving little red marks on her pale flesh. “Do you like me filling you, baby?”

Her body quaked at his words, nearing her climax as she made these pathetic, whimpering sounds. “Y—yes!” she shouted when his fingers stroked that smooth patch of skin, deep inside of her. “Oh god, Az.” Elain’s hand shot to the edge of the counter, gripping it until her knuckles turned white.

She was close, he could feel it. And he wasn’t far off too. He bit down on her thigh, leaving a purplish mark, claiming her. Az loved marking her nearly as much as Elain loved being marked by him. Rising slightly, Azriel replaced his thumb with his mouth and sucked her clit hard.

There was nothing left for her to do but shatter, screaming out a slur of curses, praises, and a litany of syllables that sounded like his name all strung together.

Azriel watched her stomach contract, felt her quake around his fingers from both of her entrances as he continued to pump into her, helping her ride through her high as his orgasm hit. Quickly, he pinned his towel over the head of his cock, catching every skirt of cum that barreled through him as he groaned against her clit.

The vibrations through his mouth made Elain shudder in pleasure and she pulsed against his thick fingers, rolling through either a second orgasm or extending the first. He honestly couldn’t tell whether the one she was having ended or not.

Elain’s body spasmed but he kept her pinned to the counter—her knuckles turning stark white as she let out another deep, throaty moan. It was only when she began pushing at his head, trying to get him away from her overly sensitive center did he remove his mouth from her clit and slowly withdrew his fingers.

She arched, gasping when he pulled out and Az couldn’t help but notice how her body twitched from the loss of him. He settled her legs back on the counter and rose between her thighs.

Her eyes were still shut, breath still heavy, but he knew she could feel his presence. Azriel swept his hands over her hips, up her waist—not to tease but to soothe. To calm her heart and lust-filled mind. He leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on the center of her chest.

Another on her throat.

One to her cheek until finally, finally, she blinked those beautiful brown eyes at him.

Elain smiled sweetly and he couldn’t resist dropping another tender kiss onto those luscious lips. She giggled into his mouth. “Hi,” she breathed.

Using his clean hand, he tucked her hair behind her ear and cupped the side of her face. “Hi,” he said back.

Her eyes darted between his. “That was,” her fingers trailed up his strong trapezius muscle, “wow.”

He chuckled. “Wow, good I hope.”

“Amazing. What you did…” Elain pulled his face down towards him, eyes sparkling, “I can’t even begin to describe how good that felt.”

Azriel smiled, ducking his head down to kiss her again. Her soft lips molded to his, pillowing against his until he sucked her bottom one into his mouth lightly.

She moaned but placed a hand firmly on his chest to push him away. “None of that or we will most definitely be late for work.”

“I’m not opposed,” he laughed. His thumb stroked her cheek. “That was okay though? I didn’t push you, right?”

Elain couldn’t fight the affectionate grin that took over her face. “You were perfect, as always. I don’t know how you seem to know what I need—what I can handle, but you do. You push my limits but you never cross them, Az. You allow me to explore things I’ve never imagined, and fuck, was that better than I could have ever pictured.” She wrapped her legs around his waist, hauling him into the cradle of her hips. “I’ve never really explored much in regards to sex. It was a standard position or two with Graysen and that was pretty much the extent of our physical relationship.”

He scowled at the name of her ex-fiancé from her lips but kept his mouth shut.

“I know when we were in high school, we were still young and learning how to have sex, but I didn’t think it could feel the way you make me do now. And that’s just by your fingers and your mouth.” Her cheeks blushed most adorably and she huffed out a breath, shaking her head. “I really have no idea where I’m going with this, other than, thank you, Az, for being patient with me. For taking care of me. I know I’m not the easiest partner when it comes to the physical aspects of a relationship.”

And at that, he cut her off. “Elain, I told you earlier that I have no qualms about waiting for you to be ready. We’ll get there when we get there. At your pace and your choosing. You don’t need to thank me for having patience. And for taking care of you. I like taking care of you. A lot.” He dropped a kiss on her pert nose. One to either cheek. Another to her eyelid until she started laughing and then he kissed that sweet sound too.

“Okay, okay! We are really going to be late if we don’t get going now.”

Giving her one more kiss for good measure, Azriel quickly cleaned her up, and then himself, and within twenty minutes, they were both dressed and in the elevator on their way down for work.

~~~~~

Elain was in the locker room, shoving her things into her assigned metal box when Viviane found her. She should’ve known her peaceful morning was about to end. Her friend could sniff out sexual intercourse like a bloodhound, and given what Azriel had done to her that morning, well, Viv would’ve been all over it.

“Good morning,” the nurse chirped, propping a hip against the row of lockers.

“Morning, Viv. You’re awfully chipper today.”

The blonde smiled. “I just feel like it’s going to be a good day.” Those glacial eyes looked her over. “You seem different this morning.”

Elain tensed at the insinuation. “Different how?”

Viviane’s head cocked to the side as she studied her and she couldn’t help but blush under the scrutiny of her gaze. “You’re glowing.”

Oh fuck.

She gasped. “You had sex this morning!”

Somebody a few rows over dropped a set of keys and coughed, to make an obvious announcement of their presence in the room.

“Jesus Christ, Viv! Shout it to the whole hospital,” Elain whisper-hissed. “And no, I didn’t.”

“There’s no way you can look that happy,” she waved a hand in her general direction, and not have had sex. Good sex. Post-orgasmic sex.”

Oh, for the love of—

Viv gripped her hand. “Tell me everything. What position? Is he large? How many orgasms did you have?”

Elain’s face went as red as a tomato, burning in embarrassment, and she ripped her hand away. “Christ, Viv! You are so crude. I’m not telling you anything!”

Her friend made a pathetically, childlike face. “But why! I tell you things. I’ll tell you what Kallias did the other night.”

“No! You tell me things I didn’t ask for and don’t want to know!” She sighed, shaking her head. “I’m telling you, we didn’t have sex…per se.”

Those blue eyes glowed like magic. Fuck, she really was a bloodhound. “So, what did you have, per se?”

Elain felt her cheeks blush. Gods, she did not want to be having this conversation with her, but then again, she kind of did. Viv was different from her sisters. Their relationship was different. And Elain sort of wanted to get some advice from her.

The nurse must’ve seen the change on her face because her eyes softened and she took Elain’s hand again. “You know you can talk to me, right? About anything. Ask me anything. I know it’s been a while since you’ve been intimate with someone. If you have questions about something that you want to ask me, you’re free to.”

Something warm settled in her chest at the comforting words Viviane offered her. She squeezed her friend’s hand, tugging her to sit on the little bench. “Actually, there is something I wanted to get some advice from you on.” Elain took a deep breath, composing herself as she figured out the best way to ask her questions. “Azriel and I have been intimate, just not completely.”

“How far have you gotten with him?” she asked, genuinely curious. “If you don’t mind my asking, that is.”

Elain pursed her lips. “He…takes care of me. A lot.” When Viv’s blonde brows shot into her hairline, she knew the nurse understood her reference. “But every time we get close to sealing the deal, my mind freezes on me.”

She nodded in understanding. “Do you want to have sex with him?”

“Yes. Very much so.” She sighed. “It’s like this hurdle in front of me that I can’t seem to cross and I don’t know why.”

“Have you touched him? Reciprocated I mean.”

Elain shakes her head no. “He keeps telling me not to worry about him, that he’s okay. And even the thought of doing it makes me lock up. I don’t know if it’s the idea of a male body itself that triggers it, but I feel awful. Azriel has been wonderful to me, completely patient with my fears and helping me work through my anxieties, and I feel like I’ve offered him nothing in return. I haven’t offered him anything in return. Gods, I sound like a shit girlfriend.”

“No,” Viviane said insistently. “You are not a shit girlfriend, Elain. You are a victim of an attempted sexual assault. There are things you’re going to have to work through and Azriel understands that. There’s nothing wrong with you and that doesn’t make you a bad girlfriend because of it. Stop blaming yourself for your trauma.”

A tear slid down her cheek but Viv was quick to catch it with her thumb.

“Now, as for the sex, I have an idea that might help.”

Elain nodded eagerly. “Yes, please! I’m willing to try anything.”

“First off, when you two get going, I want you to try and clear your mind of anything and everything other than the moment you’re in. Focus on your body. What it’s telling you and what he’s doing to it. And listen to his. Watch what you do to his body too. Your instinct will follow.

“Second, get on top with your clothes still on and grind on him.”

“What?” she asked, blushing from her hairline to her chest.

Viv chuckled at her reaction. “Keep your clothes on but get off on his dick. It will give you exposure to feeling it again without having the complete, sexual setting you’d have if you both were naked.”

Elain blinked at her friend. “You want me to dry-hump him?”

The nurse simply cocked her head to the side and said, “Yes.” At her friend’s obvious discomfort, she added, “It sounds worse than it is. You’ll get off, he’ll likely get off from it too. It will be pleasurable, and you’ll get adjusted to feeling his cock between your legs. Just try it.”

Well, this was an awkward conversation she was not expecting to have. She was sure her heart was hammering in the side of her neck hard enough for the nurse to hear. Elain swallowed the lump in her throat. To be honest, it wasn’t a half-bad idea. Just the thought made her a bit nervous. “Okay, I’ll think about it,” she finally said.

Pleased by her answer, Viviane wrapped her arms around her shoulders, squeezing her tightly. “I’m always here for you, Ellie.”

“Thanks, Viv.” Releasing her friend, they rose from their perch on the bench. “I suppose we should probably get out there.”

The head nurse snorted. “Definitely. You know the emergency room is a shitshow when neither one of us is there running things.”

Elain tipped her head back and laughed. “That is true.”

Making their way out of the employee locker room, Viviane went to her post to begin her rotation while Elain searched for her residents. Her conversation with her friend seemed to have soothed whatever anxieties she was having and she found herself looking forward to the next intimate interaction with Azriel—hoping that perhaps this time, things might finally come to a climactic end for both of them.

~~~~~~

Remember, sharing is caring! Please reblog if you liked the fic. It helps spread my work and I truly appreciate it. 💕

I’m not doing a tag list anymore because they’re really more trouble than they're worth. For notifications, you can follow and subscribe to my fanfic account where I will be reblogging updates and snippets only. You can also find me on ao3.

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics​

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[nonokoko13]

Child!reader being adopted by spy x family characters Pt. 2

As I said in the previous part, these adoption headcanons are really specific, including your hypothetical pronouns and name; these two are extra so you can imagine yourself with your name and desired gender. You can ask for less specific headcanons if you want too. Part 1 here

Enjoy!

Sylvia Sherwood

How you met

She carries the responsibility of WISE, she needs to be committed to it. More than ever now that the peace was threatened every day by those who wanted war to arise again

She missed her family, but she overcame it. Just like the HQ she had to be impenetrable

At least, that's what she thought

Because right in front of her there was the question which answers she wanted to hear. A kid.

It would be normal to see one if she wasn't at the HQ

It didn't help no one knew there was a kid there until you spoke up

The camera system didn't record you and there wasn't any entrance to the agency that had been forced. You weren't any employee's kid either

After scolding them and order to search your parents she met you again

"Hello little one. May I ask you how did you get in here?"

You smiled, seeming to have been waiting her to ask

"Because I like to play and explore! And I'm really good at hide and seek"

Sylvia raised an eyebrow. No matter how well someone was good at hiding there was no way you could break into the HQ; it sounded surrealistic

"But how did you find this place?"

"Because it was easy to find"

"Don't you think you could end bad breaking into unknown places?"

"If I don't know what isthis place how I'd know that?"

Fair enough

That conversation wasn't going anywhere, yet she was angrier with the security staff than you. You didn't look worried though

You gave her an idea

"Do you want to play with me?"

Both entered in the nearest police station, she talked with the officers before telling you to count until 1000 while she was going to hide. You started the count facing a wall

She felt bad, but there were some traffickers she had to catch before they made the exchange

She was following their car; everything fine until she believed to see a small hand greeting her from the car's trunk

She returned to the police station to find out that moments later of her departure you disappeared without anyone realizing. She went to the point where the delivery would be made

Outside the abandoned warehouse there was no signal that you were there until she saw you getting out from under the car on the other side

Something caused a shooting that would make the police come and caught her at any moment. The bands kept shooting at each other while you were behind a transport container

"What were you thinking?! I told you to stay with the police!"

"I'm sorry, I counted until I know, then I saw you following the car, so I followed too. But before they caught me I hid in there...I'm sorry..." You pulled out a walkie-talkie

"I got two from the police station. I left one in there so the others thought the guys of that car were betraying them, it should have worked to scape with no bad guys seeing us"

She was impressed. However, there was no time to ask where you learn that from

Analyzing the situation the principal scape was blocked, fortunately they hadn't noticed you yet so–

You pulled her shirt, pointing somewhere else

"Let's get out"

General headcanons

Sylvia was still surprised that your plan of exiting through a rear window she hadn't seen and walk away without hurry could work

She stopped walking to watch you smash the walkie-talkie and take out some matches to burn it

"Now they can't find footprints!"

The police may not get answers about it but she had many questions for you

She lied to you about the HQ, after the shooting her lie was on the floor. Thenceforth Sylvia's not able to tell if you were playing along and keeping her secret or you have no idea what's all about

You thought her name was Handler. When you knew she was called Sylvia Sherwood you pointed your hoody logo and say "S of Super, you're superman–Superwoman!"

That's how she begun to be mistaken with an endearing mother and her son. She was superwoman and you "kid", because you said that's how you were called, along with child, shrimp, demon...

"That's unacceptable". She handed you lists of names to choose, unfortunately no one convinced you

It wasn't until you two went to a jewelry store that you found the name

The casual way you break in HQ when you want still frustrates her, how do you do it?? You don't see big deal though

Fullmetal lady didn't remember how tough was motherhood

Anyone would freak out if they found out about spies. Yet there you are, admiring flying guys in underpants

Sylvia asked you about your family, but you always tell the same: you lived with dad until he left you with a woman that he said was your mom

The Handler found out your father is a repeat offender, currently on a maximum security prison in another country. Both him and the woman without offspring legally

"Please, don't tell me one of his criminal records is jailbreaking"

The informant doubted "Actually, that's the main one"

"..."

The Forgers

Scenario where it's up to both of them to adopt you. To keep Loid's mental sanity safe it will be independent of the timeline where Yor has a kid on her own, feel free to imagine both kids being Anya's siblings at the same time. You can ask me to include that idea if I write more about this

How you met

As I said before Twilight wouldn't adopt anyone due his job, only one kid for Operation Strix and that was Anya. For now Yor didn't want more kids, she loves Anya and that's enough for them

Not for Anya. She wanted a little sibling

All started talking with Becky when Damian mentioned his brother. Back at home she brought the topic and neither Pa or Ma were giving her an answer of where babies come from

That's when she begun to feel like being a sister. Any plan helped her to convince her parents though

Anya remembered something Mr Henderson told them. "If you want something, take it into your own hands"

And she took it too seriously

Next day Anya and Bond disappeared, she was in the dogs park with Yor

While Mrs Forger panicked Anya had returned to the place she met Twilight

As the time passed the Forgers worried more. When they found Anya and Bond at their building's door they felt relieved

Your presence didn't make things better

They asked Anya where she had been and where did you come from. She said she adopted you

Of course Anya wasn't going to say she broke into an orphanage and took you

Loid's scolding made you cry

"Anya, we aren't adopting–"

"If she's not my sister I won't go to school ever again!!"

"Just for a trial period" that's what Loid hoped

General headcanons

Loid thought babies were easy because it's unnecessary (more impossible) communication with a living being that can't talk; after all babies only have basic needs. He was wrong

It would be easier if you could talk. Why are you crying? You have eaten! Are you sad? Cold? You dislike him?

Yor is not better either. Because her parents died when Yuri was a kid Yor didn't have experience with changing diapers, or anything related with babies

She was more scared than Loid to the point she didn't want to hold you. She broke Yuri's ribs with a hug when he was a toddler, what if she kills you with few contact?

In less than 24 hours you already had a crib and all kinds of things a baby would need. However, having three bedrooms and parents sleeping in separate rooms meant all your things ended in Anya's room

You cried at night until they discovered you calmed down when Anya let you a plushie to hug

She can't wait for the day pa and ma share bed to take back her bedroom

The second night Anya had an idea

Ma is scared of being your mom, solution? Leave you in her bed while Yor is asleep imagining that would work

Thanks God Yor doesn't move much when sleeping. On the other hand Yor is a light sleeper due not being used to sleep with someone so she woke up minutes later

She almost jump out of the bed, realizing that would make you cry made her contain. You groaned, did she wake you up? Yor wasn't sure of holding you, instead she laid down again and approached you to her chest

Seeing you so peaceful by her side melted her, thinking about it you looked a bit like her and Loid.. She blushed at the embarrassing thought

Bold of them to not imagine that's why Anya chose you

In the morning Loid discovered what happened and had a little words with Anya during breakfast before she went to school

Yor went to work and he decided to take a day off from his work to spend the morning with you. The Handler said the first days you should see them to recognize faces

Walks with Bond, buying toys, trying to teach you sign language...Normal stuff

Loid is glad you don't do anything but sleep and eat, except your obsession with munching. When you first kissed Yor he found it normal until you munched her cheek and now you do that to everyone; probably you're teething

Yor found it really cute, but you shouldn't go kissing and chewing cheeks. Anya thinks is funny just don't try to chew her hair again please

Another problem came with names. Loid was going through a list of 850 names in alphabetical order, meanings included; Yor didn't take it to the extreme

"Hum, what about Rose? I think it's a cute name, I mean it's both decision and I'm not good with names Loid–"

Welcome to the family Rose

A spy, an assassin, a telepath and... Well, a baby. Seems like a good mix

Yor Briar

As we know Twilight only would adopt for Operation Strix's sake. Yor became mother by marrying Loid, but what if she had already a kid before being Mrs Forger?

Inspired by this post of @say-seira

How you met

Long ago before Twilight adopted the identity of Loid Forger, the Briars moved to a flat in Berlint

While the eldest sibling had recently become an adult Yuri was only a kid, Yor decided to move to the city so he had nearer his school. It was possible due her proper salary as Thorn Princess

This change would make her job easier too. She had a new client which death could pay Yuri's entrance to a good university

There was a politician who negotiated with terrorists, helping them to get into Ostania and providing them with weapons in exchange to gain good propaganda abroad and getting rid of competition

Knowing this was enough to make Yor's blood boil. He deserved to die, she was sure of it

Struggling with the security around him, Yor finally killed the target without leaving trace

The only inconvenience was a bad injury made by a bullet that she received. After removing the bullet the wound got worse

She went to the hospital to avoid an infection. In the waiting room she met a kind lady, Yor swore that she had seen her before

The woman was scared, but Yor reassured her she will wait her

While Yor was attended the girl was taken to another room. As she promised, Yor waited in the hall after her wound was treated; with a buttoned medical gown on because she didn't want to attract more attention due the bandaged wound in sight

Time passed and many people enter and exit from the room, but she didn't. A nurse carrying something mistook her for one of the staff and scolded her for standing there

"Here, take the baby to the nursery"

"Me? But— wait! What about the woman? Is she okay?"

From afar she heard the answer, but before Yor could explain the error the woman had left. She was shocked, how? She seemed fine

Against her will the dark-haired looked at the lump she was holding: rosy cheeks babbling in dreams, you were in peace

Her shock grew when she saw you shared the username that the man she killed had. That's why the woman was familiar: she was the politician's daughter

Yor searched someone who hand the baby when she recognized the doctor that guided the woman to the room, he was talking with a masked nurse

The fact they went to a private place and maintained their voices low made her suspect

"Did you take care of the mother?" the nurse asked

"Yes, they got ahead of us with her father but I think they will pay us anyway. When they found it was a medical negligence we'll be far from here"

Yor understood they were assassins as well, probably paid by a rival. Luckily they hadn't seen her yet

"Heh, do you they will pay more if we got rid of the baby?"

Yor left the hospital with you, unsure of what to do. Did you have more relatives? The widowed politician didn't have more kids, and your mother came alone. What if they wanted to kill the rest of the family?

A small hand grabbed hers, and every fear disappeared. Looking at each other, she knew you were safer with her. Perhaps it was only guilt or sympathy, but she would try

General headcanons

The moment Yuri saw Yor holding you was in disbelief. Yor said she found you in the streets and he believed it

At first he tried to convince her sister to leave you in a orphanage but once scolding was enough to cease

Still disliking you for the first months. It took some time until he saw you like one of his family

Yuri helped, although they had a rough time because you refused to eat Yor's purees. Your endurance might grew up to make you the only person who can eat her food without bleeding but it doesn't mean you like its flavor

She viewed you as a sibling until you were two, being called mom made Yor too happy to correct you. Yuri was just Yuri, you never feel like using formalities with him or addressing "Uncle" everytime you talked

Yor decided to let your belongings, it was better that way. When you were older, and only if you wanted, she would tell you the truth

She's bad with names, Rose was the only name she could think of but you're a boy. Yor's parents loved that Yuri and her had matching names, therefore you would be the sweet addition to it

The only name I could think of is Yuu because it's gender neutral and means "you" sorry

During the first year of your life she didn't try to hide the blood of her clothes from you. Yuri never suspected either and you wouldn't remember it when you grow up

Your lack of childhood amnesia was something she didn't have in count. Not that she knows you know anyway

Yor has been training you since you were able to walk, if she wasn't there when you needed at least you would be ready to defend yourself. Proud to say you're her strong boy

That said, if the assassins that tried to killed you found were you lived it's something you ignore. Being the protective mother Yor is they could be dead by now

Six years later, it was still Yor and you against the world, with Yuri being the only paternal figure you had. Before one day she met a man and everything changed

She said he will help her by accompanying her to a party so Yuri stopped worrying about her. She said it would be one night, and the next morning you woke up with Yor waiting to talk with you

In part she accepted because of you; you passed the Eden exam before knowing you needed a dad for it. That requisite seemed stupid for you, as you reassured her you could go to any other school; now you would be accepted into the best school!

You agreed and started packing. What else you could do? The decision was made before you were asked anyway, and you didn't want to argue with your mom because she was doing it for your future too

Of course it affected you. No matter how nice they were it was a huge change; in one day you had to move to a new place which didn't feel like home and live with strangers who you'll have to share mom with isn't easy

Anya was nervous too, but for different reasons. She was so excited to meet her soon-to-be sibling! For her, who was an orphan last week, having a pa, a ma and a friend to play with was great

Her expectations went down when she read your mind. You didn't think bad of them, but excited wasn't the word to describe your emotional state either

Loid may not be good at understanding children, but it was clear for him you wasn't comfortable. For him would be weirder if you didn't seem affected at all

On the contrary, Yor seemed cool with all of this to you. Even without any idea of how to be a wife or mother for Anya she enjoyed her time as Forger, which confused you a bit

Yor is happier, not only because she didn't have to worry about the SSS or Yuri anymore. They make her happier, it's just matter of time she could fall for Loid and have a baby that was her own, real kid

Being sure Yor loves you and your new family want you to feel welcomed doesn't make disappear the feelings you carry with. Still, if mom is happy you prefer to keep it to yourself and try to maker her smile too

If it wasn't because Yuri hates the idea of her sister hiding her marriage for a year and sympathized your situation he would have laughed at the irony when you told him during your uncle-nephew walk the next day of his meeting with "Loiloi"

He doesn't know they got married before you attended school so he assumed you had been holding it for a long time. He passed his fingers through your hair

"I understand it's difficult, but I'll be for you whenever you need me"

+ Honorable mention to compensate you for the mild ansgt without warning

Daybreak

We don't know much about him but I included this dork for fun

Thinking about "Daybreak" and "parenthood" makes anyone's mind stopped working

Mainly because it's difficult to say which one would be the child

Not "How you met headcanons" because he wouldn't be able to adopt to begin with

From what we saw in chapter 27 he seems to live alone, depending on his amazing spy career to afford pork steak for dinner. So he must not live too good given that after his first mission he was fired

If he had a child, it would be likely because of a previous relationship he had and didn't end well

He didn't adopt you. You're his biological kid, the only not adopted of this gang

Sorry we can't choose our family good luck ig

Not necessarily ended bad, even remaining as friends, your mother took a different path and is happily married with another man

If she knew he wanted to be a spy either thought "it's a joke" or *sigh*

She was who brought money in the relationship, now you live with her and your step-dad but at the beginning you didn't want to

Daybreak talked with you and promised you could visit each other and even live with him when he could afford it

They don't get it

Who would take care of him? The idea of living on his own was frightening to you

Imagine being father and is your kid who worries about whether pops know how to pay taxes without mom

You took after him in terms of appearance. Any signal of intelligence was from your mother

Average smart but surely smarter than him

Probably he thanked God that you were a boy. He will love whatever you are but he was relieved of saving himself of buying female products when you were on that time of the month and guide you through puberty

As much as he says to be a charming man he's not good with women either so

Your name is Sunny. Guess who chose it

Probably you see him more on weekends than during the week

Until you showed him Spy Wars he didn't have no idea that existed such good series

Of course not cooler than the legend he is but Daybreak jokes about how reading that and seeing your cool pops in action would make you half as good spy as he is someday

Quite sad is that your common sense along with the things you see on TV are enough to be better spy material

You try to watch it with him to see if he learns something

Unsure of what you'll be in the future but in the mean time you had fun watching cartoons and liking kids stuff like dinosaurs and skateboard

Current status: Busy with your first year at school and getting him out of trouble

[holly-fixation]

An Astral Myth: Chapter 1

Summary: Cloud Strife is an engineering student at Midgar U, who decided to take art history as an elective because it was the only good option left. But when an assignment on an “obscure god” (nothing Shiva or he gets stabbed with an ice pick) causes repeated dreams of swirling pink clouds in a blue sky, Cloud has to find out what it means. And the best place to start: seeing the statue for himself. 

Inspired by this art by @hueyoart and the concept by @ehrenyu on Twitter.

Please Enjoy!

Junior year. Third year. Whatever it was called, Cloud could not believe he made it this far. Three years at Midgar University. Well, two and a half. He really thought he would fail by now, yet here he is, two years away from a degree in engineering design. This was a dream almost come true. He always loved to design all sorts of things. As a kid, he had this insane idea to build a sword made of smaller swords that fit together like Lego pieces. Of course, all of his attempts didn’t go well but his mother refuses to get rid of his only somewhat successful attempt made of cardboard, card stock, duct tape, and hot glue. Nowadays he designed more practical objects and helped out his various other friends in similar majors. Although Barret almost broke his arm after seeing how fantastical he made the simplest concepts. You need to chill the hell out, blondie! It’s the modern day, not the renaissance, man! Then Barret made him redesign all of his concepts for the team’s sanity. Oof, that was a bad day. 

But now he’s more than halfway there, just a few more engineering classes and...electives. Ugh. He hated electives. When they were related to his major, he cared and he tried. But these other, unrelated, useless to the real world electives...he rolled his eyes. What a waste of money. He tried, gods did he try, to take the easiest, most pointlessly simple class he could to fill the slot. And then they all got taken by the seniors, and the only class he could get into with ‘okay’ ratings was Art History: Analysis of Mythology. He was kind of interested in mythology. Who wasn’t? If it was all based off of things that aren’t real, it should be easy right?

Wrong. 

The class only had two assignments, which decided the entirety of the grade. If he failed one, he failed the class. Fairly high stakes, but it didn’t seem that bad, compared to his major classes which required multiple six-hour-assignments completed per week, until tonight. 

It was 11:45 PM, and he was smacked with the sudden realization he needed to submit his topic for the first paper. Hell, he suddenly remembered he was in this class. Gods forbid he got any rest tonight, gods forbid he hung out with his friends until 11:30 on a Sunday. Cracking his eyes open, he pulled his laptop into his lap and sat up in his bed, immediately clicking the class page. Maybe he was lucky, and this was one of the professors that made assignments due before lecture began?

Nope. Due date: Today, 11:59 PM. Fourteen minutes until submission closed.

Okay, the essay must be a research paper into an obscure or uncommonly studied god or goddess. “If any single one of you picks Ifrit for this assignment, I will fail you immediately.” His professor’s voice suddenly rang in his ears, spoken in lecture when assigning this a month ago. For extra credit, he could take a selfie with the statue of this god. Yeah right, not unless he’s desperate. Then he realized he forgot about this class, and that extra credit may keep his GPA up to standards. He sighed. So none of the Six. Got it. Maybe he’d get lucky if he checked archeology websites. He couldn’t care what this god was, as long as it was obscure enough. 

Maybe some god really was on his side. 

A month ago, archeologists discovered a shrine to a god named “Sephiroth”, supposedly some God of the Stars. Please have enough information publicly available, Cloud begged internally. 

Though the statue was recently discovered, many texts have been unearthed and translated throughout the last few years. Using a language similar to the Cetra, most of the legend of “Sephiroth and his Sacrifice” has been translated. This legend is available at this link. However, for all the information, most photos of the shrine itself were corrupted during digital rendering, and the current museum housing the main statue refuses to allow professional photos. 

Perfect, good enough. Cloud immediately wrote a response for the assignment, making sure to “paraphrase, not plagiarize, and quotes are for newspapers, not essays!” a five sentence backstory. Well, the two facts he could learn in two seconds with some nonsense about why he was interested. And now...submitted. 11:56 PM. He knocked the back of his head against the wall with a sigh of relief. 

...Shoot. Now he’s awake. The panic from his sudden realization forced his heart to race. So screw it. He decided to start his research tonight, collecting links for sources and taking sections of lore that seemed important, though he was barely skimming the passages and absorbing almost none of the words. His document was filling quickly, about a solid page and a half by the time he felt tired again. He glanced at the clock: 12:30 AM. He had his early class tomorrow. How the hell did he get stuck with an 8 AM in his junior year? 

He closed his laptop and placed it back on his desk before lifting up the covers and attempting an early sleep, tossing and turning until his subconscious finally took over.

He felt his eyes open, as if waking up from a peaceful dream, to the sight of swirling pink clouds, separated at the center and turning like the eye of a slow hurricane. 

Was he standing? Or floating?

He could almost feel a surface beneath his feet, but when he looked, there was no ground, just the ever present stirring of the pink puffs. 

Was he looking up? Or forward?

He found himself staring at the blue opening of sky, mesmerized, hypnotized, and...controlled. 

Had he made a single decision? Or was he pulled by invisible strings? 

By a red thread of fate? Or the clear strings of a puppet at every joint?

His thoughts quickly vanished, his attention captured. A tiny gold and white light shone in the center blue, tiny, like the stars in the night sky. But as he watched, it grew. It couldn’t be a star, it was too unbalanced, too many points of the spikey nature emitted from the bottom half. Then it got bigger. Grander and brighter, all consuming like the sun. Blocking out the sky and obscuring the shape. Capturing the clouds in its reaching rays. 

White. Blinding white devoured his sight. 

Suddenly he surged in pain, the seering of a blade ripping through his chest, through his back, deeper, and deeper, and Deeper, and Deeper.

Cloud jumped awake with a gasp and held his head and his heart, his breathing out of control and cold sweat dripping down the sides of his face. What the hell was that? It felt so real. He felt that blade tear through his body. What kind of nightmare was that?! He quickly grabbed at his phone and opened the screen. 4 AM. Maybe reading lore on some random god right before bed was a bad idea. Noted. Would not happen again. 

Well, he was awake, so he might as well check his messages before he passed out again. He opened his email app, deleted a few spam notifications, and saw an email from his professor. Alright, the god he picked was approved, so there was no going back now. He decided to officially start this essay tomorrow, and checked his various entertainment apps until he was tired enough to fall back asleep. 

* * * 

“You forgot you were in a class?” Barret almost slapped him in the back of the head for his stupidity. “How do you forget about an in person class?!”

Cloud scratched the back of his head and looked away as they both walked to their next class. “It only has a few deadlines, nothing popped up on the course page before the weekend, so I thought I was good,” He tried to defend. 

“You still go every week, right?!” He didn’t necessarily yell at the blonde, he was only loudly confused. 

“Yeah yeah, I do.” He adjusted his bag. “But he didn’t mention anything about it last week.”

Barret sighed, deciding to cool down the almost fatherly tone. “Look, Spiky, just don't overwork yourself. We still have a project milestone to finish!” Cloud let out a soft groan before Barret continued. “Just start it early. Twenty minutes a night should at least get you interested in this god essay.”

He sighed. “Gods I hope so. I’ll try it.”

“But you better be at the meeting tonight.”

“Of course I’ll be at the meeting tonight,” Cloud countered. “Haven't missed one yet.”

So, that was exactly what Cloud did: went to his lectures, got multiple hours of homework completed, and finished the night off with the team meeting before finally arriving back at his apartment. Once he was settled in and ate somewhat of a dinner, he was back at his desk to try to enjoy the small remainder of his night (if he planned on having a slightly okay sleep schedule). Then he remembered his conversation with Barret. Crap. 

He groaned to himself. Twenty minutes less of ‘him time’ wasted for this stupid essay. Maybe paraphrasing what he copied last night would be a good place to start. He opened his laptop with a pout, angrily opening the links he collected from the previous night and his current document. He took a breath before actively reading the text.

Sephiroth is an ancient God of the Stars, whose worshipers are currently unknown. Though, from carvings and surviving text, they clearly spoke a language similar to the Cetra. He is the son of Jenova, Goddess of the Cosmos, and is one of the few gods who remained completely loyal to their patronage. However, his father is still unknown.

So they’re space gods. Got it. He’d moogle if there was a specific difference between the cosmos and the stars later, and he noted that in his document before he continued. 

Ironically, despite their nature, there is no current mention of any constellation bearing either name. 

According to legend, Jenova came to our planet, Gaia, on a meteor dating back about 66 million years.

Oh come on, everyone knows that’s the meteor that killed the dinosaurs. And are they really claiming humans were around back then? He groaned again. He did not care about this useless parent, but every article on this god explained her origins. He guessed he didn’t have a choice. 

Translations and transcriptions differ greatly on the reason she came to Gaia. Some claim it was curiosity, stating we are one of the few planets with life in the cosmos. Others say she landed by accident, and our people accepted her as a new God, worshiping and praising as she wished. Though no written text agreed completely, they all claim she was strikingly beautiful and impossible to look away from, almost like the night sky. 

Were they really pretending humans were around to know that back then? 66 million years ago?

But Jenova’s presence or aura, carrying the weight of the cosmos, was too much for the planet to handle. Both the Lifestream and the oceans gravitated toward her like the moon. All types of plants, animals, fish, insects, and fungi suffered or completely died off as a result, even though she was not on the planet for long. 

The people of the planet, though we are unsure if they were human or some other species at the top of the food chain, asked the goddess to leave for the sake of their world. This is where conflict of translation and various sources comes up. This angered or some even just said annoyed her. She agreed to leave the planet after seven of our days. 

It’s claimed her retaliation for the disrespect were calculated diseases and mutations to plague the inhabitants, similar to how overexposure of mako happens extremely rare today. 

Good to know Shinra’s bribing them to keep things quiet. Cloud gave a quick shake of his head to remove the conspiracy theory going through his mind and return to the page before he had to re-read the entire section due to lack of focus. 

Yet other sources claim the effects were a result of her anger directly, even some claim she did not know she caused it at all.*

*This is where the language similarity to the Cetra gets difficult to translate, as we are still learning most Cetra scripts and these legend scripts are not completely identical to the Cetra language. We provide as many of the accepted translations as possible, but the most accurate translation has yet to be determined. 

Fantastic, so he either needed to copy every attempt at a translation or pick one and defend why he believed it was the most accurate, something he was not at all qualified to do.

Her reign was too large to maintain such minimal functions intentionally, her anger rarely ignited by any being to know how to handle the unconscious response. 

What was she, a robot? ‘Minimal functions’?

Every planet she visited was affected differently, so the people were not asking her to leave out of fear, but for the sake of their world. Seven days was too long. Their world was falling to her in only three. 

Then Gaia, the Goddess of our Planet, spoke to the other goddess and explained the results of her presence. Intentionally or not, Jenova was killing Gaia (both the planet and the goddess). The Planet made a deal with The Cosmos: to feed her curiosity, let her heal and then send a proxy when it was time. This proxy would be taught all the knowledge of herself and the creatures that called her being their home. Her people would be informed when the time came, and they would prepare for the proxy. Jenova agreed, on two conditions: Gaia must accept any proxy of her choice, and the people must obey her proxy unquestionably. 

Gaia agreed.

What could possibly go wrong?

With honor of their agreement, Jenova left the planet, and her virus stopped. Millenia of millenia passed before Gaia informed her people of the messenger’s title and coming arrival, with some reports dating back only 2,000 years ago. 

Oh for gods sake. Really? Were they honestly claiming this? Were humans walking around and completely ignoring this new god? Comparatively, compared to 66 million years, it was not that long ago. Oh come on.

Not once in Gaia’s billions of years of existence did she expect the cosmos to send the most cherished son: Sephiroth, God of the Stars, as the proxy of the cosmos. 

Alright, that’s enough for today. He’d finish this lore some other night. He wanted to enjoy the rest of his time, playing some games or watching some shows, or doing anything that wasn’t an assignment for once. Just to reach the page minimum faster, he looked for this statue that made this god known. He scrolled through this article: nothing. The next one: nothing. The third, fourth, and fifth: nothing. Why were there no photos? Even if the professional shots were only available through a museum pay wall, there should at least be some pictures and selfies on social media, right? 

Report: Is the new statue cursed? 

It sounded like clickbait and looked like a blog, but no other article explained this specific phenomenon, so he read on.

The original photos from the exposition were corrupted within the day, before printing or digital upload was possible. This was odd, but technically possible. However, even photos taken in the Midgar Museum of Natural History, where the statues are currently on display, are immediately ruined. Whether it’s a flash from some ancient technology or some kind of spell, every photo taken results in a bright shine from the halo, the same effect as taking a picture of the sun. 

Halo?

We should probably explain what the statue looks like.

That would be very helpful.

The most interesting and popular statue, “Reunion”, depicts Sephiroth and his Sacrifice, and is based off of one of the final scenes of the legend. Sephiroth’s upper torso and face resemble a human’s, but his legs are six perfect angel wings, and his right arm is a deformed wing holding a sword. He has two halos emitting from his center like a throne, and his long hair flows up through them. Many observers state the beauty of the statue, especially Sephiroth himself. As for his sacrifice, he’s pulled up and impaled by the sword, straight through the heart. Yet his face shows no pain, almost like sleep or acceptance. “Reunion” is supposed to refer to the promise Sephiroth made with humanity, but there are too many mistranslations for us to count so we’ll spare you the details.

Wow. Did Cloud really manage to pick the only god on the planet who cannot be photographed? There goes the extra credit. Maybe he’d look for artwork later. He wanted to enjoy his last few hours of night before it was back to the grind. He bookmarked each open tab, then closed the browser before finally enjoying part of his night. 

* * *

He woke up to the same panic, the same strings, the same searing pain through his body, for four days. Something was wrong. He never had the same dream twice, but this was identical four times in a row. The same light, the same sky, the same clouds, the same sword. Sword? Yeah, probably a sword, through his chest. And now he had a headache. Again. Wonderful. He hadn’t touched the assignment since Monday. How was this still happening?

He should tell someone about this. Who, though? It was too soon to tell Tifa, and he didn’t want to seem like a wimp around her. Barret may actually hit him in the head in an attempt to knock some sense into him. Zack… Zack’s a good plan B, but it requires, absolutely requires, playful fighting that always ends with Cloud in a headlock. Maybe Aerith?

Yeah. Aerith was good for situations like this. She always knew what to say to make people feel better. Her minor in psychology completely reflected that, even though her major was environmental science. Without thinking, he grabbed his phone and texted her. 

Cloud: Hey Aerith, is there any way we can meet up tomorrow? No big deal, just need to destress. 

Then send. Oh Gods he hit send. What time was it?!

Sent: 4:38 AM.

She might actually kill him. He didn’t know how late it was. He didn’t mean to text this late. Oh gods she’s gonna be- His phone dinged. 

Aerith: Sure, Cloud! I usually eat lunch alone on Thursdays, so come to the Chocobo Student Center at 11. I’ll be there. 

Okay, maybe he wasn’t a complete jerk or he absolutely just woke her up and she was hiding it. 

Cloud: Works for me. Thanks, Aerith. I’ll see you there. 

* * * 

Even on a Thursday morning, these restaurants were buzzing with students, everyone looking for something to eat that wasn’t the slowly degrading dining hall food. The large windows gave an effect of calm by actually allowing students to see sunlight, unlike his usual study spot, which had just the right mix of orderly chaos from tables nearby but came at the cost of no natural light.

He scanned the square tables for his friend with the pink bow. She always wore that bow. She told him once it was because the bow reminded her of home. 

“Cloud!” He heard her yell from the exact opposite direction than he was looking. He turned and saw her waving at a table she had already begun eating at with a smile.

“Over here!”

Cloud waved awkwardly before approaching and dropping his bag in one of the open seats. “Hey. How’s it going?” 

“Pretty good for now,” She answered casually. “And you?”

He shrugged as he sat. “Hangin’ in there. You know how it is with STEM majors.”

She gave him a point in agreement. “You got me there.” Then she smacked a hand to the table in order, like a judge does during court. “Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong while I eat? And next time, try to text me a little later. A girl’s gotta sleep, you know.”

Cloud rubbed the back of his neck and avoided her eyes. She saw right through his message to the truth. “Sorry. I didn’t know what time it was.”

She kindly waved him off. “No worries. Just imagine what would happen if you texted Tifa that late.”

His cheeks heated as he considered what their friend would think. She’d probably assume it was a drunk text, march over, question him for the truth, and kick his ass if he was  really drunk.

She gave a soft giggle. “I’m kidding! But come on, tell me what happened.”

Cloud took a breath before dropping the hand from his neck so he could cross his arms lightly. Then he explained the project of the god, the lore he could remember, the weird photo corruption, and the repeated dream that haunted his mind.

“It happene four times, I feel stupid-”

“You’re not stupid for asking for help.” That was the first time she talked during his explanation. 

His eyes dropped straight to the table at her nearly scolding tone. 

“You can’t find any pictures of the statue?” Aerith asked for confirmation, and he nodded. “Why don’t you go to the museum? Maybe if you actually see it, you’ll stop worrying about it so much?” She tilted her head softly. “It’ll at least put a face to the name.” 

He pouted and mumbled under his breath, “Would that be better, or more nightmare fuel?”

She shrugged with a genuinely caring expression on her face. “There’s only one way to tell. And it’s only a few blocks away, so it won’t kill your day to go over there.”

He stared down and paused. “Is there any way I can convince you to come with me?”

To his dismay, she shook her head. “Sorry. Zack gets off work at five, and I’m stuck in classes until then.”

He sighed, but nodded. His classes got out at 4:50, but it wouldn’t be fair to Zack to take his girlfriend on a field trip just because of some weird dreams. “I understand. Thanks, Aerith.”

“Of course!” She smiled at him, attempting to raise his spirits a little. “If you need me, call me. And if for some reason I don’t answer, leave a message and text me.”

He nodded again before standing up and grabbing his bag. “Thank you. I will. But I hope I won’t need to.”

* * * 

Well, here he was, on the marble stairs, following Aerith’s advice. He stared and read the sign on above the stone columns of the massive structure. 

Migar Museum of Natural History

He inhaled. He exhaled. Let’s do this. He adjusted his jacket, then his bag, and marched up to the entrance. He bought a ticket, security checked his bag, and finally he was off into the building of unearthed knowledge. Next step: he needed to find the exhibit. It was a new discovery, so it might be closer to the entrance. Luckily, there were QR codes on nearly every corner, which were scannable to get a pdf of the map on phones. Convenient. 

Oh of course they put it in the back so you waste more time here. He shook his head to rid himself of the negative attitude, because it certainly wasn’t helping him through this. Cloud steeled himself once again and walked through the many decorated hallways, past dozens of displays and exhibits in search of his target. Though he would be lying if he claimed he was not distracted every once in a while by a particularly interesting piece, most of which were swords or various other bladed weapons. That tiny, childish part of him still cried out in joy whenever he saw a new or interesting design, too ingrained in him to keep his heart at a steady rate, the small excitement inevitable in his chest. 

Finally, he made it to the new exhibition hall, which was far less crowded than he expected. It was a Thursday, yes, but this was a completely new discovery, correct? At least fairly new? The ceilings in the hall were three stories high, and he saw a second level balcony wrapping around the room with bronze trim. As he looked higher, he noticed a circular skylight, simulating rays of the sun which cascaded down to the largest and most detailed statue in the exhibit. The light through the window was blinding, and his only option was to move closer to see the statue at all. 

He should not have come here.

The descriptions online were accurate, the piece was stunning. “Reunion” was stunning. The god occupied most of the marble in ways that didn’t seem physically possible, like a simple gust of wind would crack the piece in two. Yet it remained strong, fighting in majesty. But he couldn’t focus on the magnificent god, because the sacrifice the god was holding was Him.

The sacrifice. Was him. To a T. The body, the face, the hair, every detail visible on this statue was Him, like looking into a mirror. 

It’s me. It’s me.

His body froze as his eyes analyzed every detail of the statue subconsciously. Every feather, every engraving, every point, every cloth, every cloud, every body, every strand of hair. Something grabbed at his chest, some kind of glow consuming him, eerie and familiar, like being wrapped in a warm blanket of feathers, with a low underlining of dread. 

He ran, no, sprinted out of the museum, not caring for anyone he rushed passed or bumped against on his way out. It was him. It was him. It was him. Down to the sword through his chest. His breath defected to panting from the exertion. Was he having a panic attack? His whole body was tight, wound like a music box, like a timer ready to blow. He was barely thinking as he pushed the doors open and barreled down the stairs, his mind racing as fast as his body for three blocks, ignoring every bystander around him. 

Aerith. He has to call Aerith, she always helped, always. He stumbled as he whipped out his phone to slow himself down. She said to call her first, so he tapped the icon and held the phone to his ear. But only after the first ring did his body seize, and he instinctively canceled the call, his phone still held to his ear. 

Across the street, there was absolutely no mistaking it, was the god from the statue, who looked like a normal man to anyone else. Long silver hair in a ponytail that stopped at his mid thigh instead of defying gravity, and the exact same face and upper body. Though this man was dressed in a formal black suit, with a button down shirt with a little too buttons attached than socially acceptable, almost like a stereotypical businessman from a movie. He stared down at his watch and took a sip of his coffee as his purposeful walk continued through the sidewalk. 

“I don’t care what it takes,” Cloud heard him in perfect clarity despite their distance, as if he was only inches away, the deep voice weaving its way through him like cold water on a summer day. “I need that report on my desk by tomorrow. Understood? …Good.” Then this walking god tapped the center of his ear, probably to stop the call and move on. 

It took everything Cloud had not to scream. His panic surged back in full force, he sprinted all the way back to his apartment. This isn’t possible. This isn’t possible. This isn’t possible.

* * * 

Damn it, he’s asleep again, because he’s back in the clouds.

But this time was different. He knew it was a dream. He knew what was happening.

Though the sky looked exactly the same, and the star still appeared in the distance, it didn’t brighten as it got closer. Cloud could finally see what this star really was. 

It was the god. His six wings moved like the fins in perfect symmetry, yet his right arm was completely black, a deformed wing that grew on the side of his shoulder, the curve of the dark wing that held the sword in the statue. 

He came closer and closer and Closer. So close Cloud could see his eyes. Snake-like, mako blue. Mako?

“Are you real…?” Cloud questioned softly, barely audible in the ever swirling sky, the first time he ever dared to speak in this place.

It was silent for what felt like an eternity as the god seemed to scan him. 

“The time is now.”

The god spoke to him, and it was the same voice as the businessmen across the street..

But immediately after, he shot awake without a stabbing pain in his chest for the first time in four days, the warm feeling from the museum returned. Yet he was at his desk, and the only pain he felt was the crick in his neck from the terrible angle and lack of support. As his sight returned, he saw his open laptop with dozens of open tabs, every one of them about the god he just talked to. There were so many different translations and interpretations of this god’s legends that Cloud was ready to bash his head through a wall. Every theory he derived was too illogical to be true, even when compared to every attempted translation on the internet. He slowly glanced at the clock in the corner of his screen. 12:03 AM. He did not eat dinner. He had not showered yet. Maybe those two tasks should be accomplished before Cloud attempted more research or passed out again. 

First he grabbed his phone and opened it subconsciously. Oh no. The call he canceled with Aerith earlier went through, and his phone was still on silent for lectures. 

He missed three texts and two calls from Aerith, and one of each from Zack. 

He’s a terrible friend. And he’s surprised they didn’t break his door down looking for him. Should he respond? Aerith was probably asleep by now. He decided a text would be better and sent it to both of them, hoping neither would respond.

Cloud: Sorry about the call. I’m okay. I’ll try to explain tomorrow. 

He sighed as he sent the message,  then flipped his phone screen face down. Don’t look, he told himself. Just let them sleep.

 * * * 

No more pain in the morning. No more dreams in those clouds either. But it came at a cost. Cloud looked up at the sky through the window in his room, and he could see a white streak, like a comet, hovering in the sky. Though the tail burned and fizzled, it was stationary in the blue mass. The timing was too perfect. He checked his phone for any reports, unconsciously ignoring the messages from Zack and Aerith, but the news showed nothing of the phenomenon, anywhere. Taking a picture, he sent the scenario to his entire friend group through a group chat and asked if they saw anything.

They all claimed the sky was perfectly normal, and talked about how good the weather was looking today.

What the hell was going on?

. 

.

.

.

Thanks for reading!

Author’s Notes: Well, this is my second attempt at a full au. I hope you enjoyed it! I’m totally willing to continue it if people are interested. Let me know what you think and thank you for reading! (Check the tags for more notes)

Update: Will be continuing. Hope you're ready!

[cloudytamaki]

bnha & “it’s too small.”

warnings: dirty jokes for dirty minded people, suggestive 🙈 viv’s notes: inspired by this tiktok !! (characters are all 18+)

bakugo • you’re sitting on the bed, phone pressed to your ear and you’re just nodding when he walks in. “describe it? um, it was super small when i got it. kind of a let down actually. super thick and not enjoyable.” katsuki furrows his brows and crosses his arms, looking at you expectantly. “it used to satisfy me but at this point it’s not enough. it doesn’t fill me up like it used to. all in all, it doesn’t leave me with that sparkly happiness you get after taking it.” his mouth drops open. “what the hell? are you saying i’m not good?” “here hold on a sec.” you shake your head at him and mouth not now, kat. “no, right now. tell me what the hell’s your problem. you were begging for me yester—” you sigh, mumbling a sorry, i have to do something real quick to the fake caller. “what’re you on about?” he doesn’t hesitate to answer with “what the hell do you mean it’s ‘small’? that’s not what you were saying yesterday night.” “calm your tits, kat. i was talking about the boba i got during my lunch break.” he’s so pissed off he just aggressively kisses you.

todoroki • you’re sitting on the couch, chatting with your non-existent friend when he walks in with a blue hardcover novel, taking a seat beside you. he opens his book, crossing his legs as he starts to read quietly, knowing you’re on the phone and probably don’t want to be bothered. “but there’s this one thing that’s always bothering me. why is it so small? it’s insufficient at this point. mhm. yeah.” beside you, shoto’s brows furrow and he looks up at you in slight confusion before looking back down to his book, deciding you’re talking about something else. “it wasn’t like this before. ... no, i haven’t changed, i’m just seeing how small it is now. i’m surprised i was blind for an entire five months.” he looks up with a ‘not funny’ look on his face, lips pressed into a thin line. “y/n.” he sounds super icy, no pun intended. “give me a sec.” you look towards shoto, only to be met with a confused and irritated expression. “i’m not— what’s going on with you?” “nothing..?” now it’s your turn to act confused. “you’re talking about me?” “i’m not. everything okay, sho?” he narrows his eyes, “i should be asking you that. what’re you talking about? am i not enough?” you mute the phone, crossing your hands as you look at him. “you are, baby. i’m telling my friend about the salad place she introduced me to a while ago. i used to think the portions were huge but they’re actually microscopic. i ordered one for lunch yesterday and i was still hungry after.” “okay. we can go find another place, if you’d like.”

denki • you’re laying on the bed, phone in your hand when denki comes out from the bathroom, all clean from his shower. he gets onto the bed and snuggles into you, wrapping his arms around you while taking in the soft scent of your body wash. he closes his eyes just as you start speaking. “tiny as hell. i had expectations i guess? ... yeah it doesn’t fill me up anymore. it’s like 5 or 6 inches?” his head snaps up and right into yours. for some odd reason, you start laughing. he’s protesting and asking questions with a whiny edge to his voice. “what d’you mean? i’m bigger than that, i always fill you up!” ew. cringe. you turn off your phone, giving a quick explanation. “denki.. i was talking about the starbucks drink i always get.” he’s not ashamed when he takes off his shirt with a wideass grin. “well do you wanna see my 7 inches?” 

kirishima • you sit at the dining table, talking on the phone while eijirou cooks in the kitchen. “it’s not getting any bigger. i’ve said something about it a few times, but the man just lets it go. honestly, it’s fucking depressing and not worth it at all.” the redhead looks out from the kitchen, surprised and hurt at the same time. he’s not even thinking about his dick – he’s thinking that you’re definitely talking about him, but he can’t place what. he shuts off the stove, walking over to the dining table and sitting down with a saddened look on his face while you continue your rant. “baby? are you talking about me?” guilt seeps into your bones as you turn off your phone. “no, of course not, eiji. i’m talking about that rose drink at the boba place. i’ve ordered large like 3 times to only get a small little cup for eight dollars, it’s a ripoff. i’ve told the worker i always see there and he doesn’t do anything about it.” “oh. okay.” he adjusts his bandanna as he gets up, still somewhat deflated. you stand up too, hugging him and pressing kisses to his forehead.

amajiki • first of all why would you try this evil prank on him? you got back from the library a few hours ago with two armfuls of books, and now you’re sitting in the living room recliner, phone pressed to your ear as if you’re on an actual call. you pretend to be shaking your head the second tamaki walks in with a book closed on his finger to save the page. “no, i thought i scored well, but when i got it, it was dirty and thin. i expected it to be thick, since i did some research on it beforehand.” tamaki sits down on the bed, somewhat listening, but the words don’t really register. “it made me feel good at first, but when i was done, i realized how bad it actually was. mhm. ... it took me an hour to finish.” he looks towards you with surprise, because shit, was he really that bad? “yeah. call you later.” you end the fake call with an exhale, noticing him glancing towards you. “what were you.. talking about?” “the library book i put on hold and picked up today. google said it was 397 pages, but it only felt like a hundred. not to mention how small the text was, and how thin all the pages were. it was an easy read, anticlimactic.” “oh, okay. um, i’m reading this book—” he stops to show you, “i’m almost done, and it’s really good. you can have it after, if you’d like.”

[davidpastrsnack]

it’s crazy what you’ll do for a friend - nolan patrick

a/n: here’s a friends to lovers 4+1 with our fav boy loosely inspired by daddy issues by the neighbourhood. but there’s still a splash of smut because you know me lol. hope you enjoy :)

word count: 10.5k

The first time you met Nolan you didn’t know what to think. He was polite, giving you a gentle smile and reaching out to shake your hand, but you couldn’t help but fixate on how quiet he was and his seeming lack of emotion.

Regardless of your hesitation, that was the first time of many that Nolan took care of you. 

You were new to Philadelphia, moving to continue your education and expand your horizons. You had always been one to play it safe, to stay in your comfort zone, but after having your heart broken and being unexpectedly accepted to one of the top graduate programs in your field you knew it was time to challenge yourself and leave behind everything you had ever known.

Well, almost everything, aside from Aubrey, one of your best friends since that first day of kindergarten so long ago. She worked in the city, practically begging you to join her when she found out you were considering the move. Just weeks later, the second bedroom in her apartment became yours and that’s how you met him.

~

one

It was only your third night in Philly and you were still unpacking, a glass of wine sitting on your dresser as you dug through the remaining boxes that were seemingly never-ending. It didn’t seem like this much stuff when you were packing it, but here you were overwhelmed with all of your belongings.

You were humming along to the music, taking it one box at a time as the room slowly came together when you heard a knock on your door.

“Come in,” you called, turning to face the door.

“Woah,” Aubrey muttered, “How’s it going in here?”

“I know, I know,” you laughed, “It looks bad but I’m almost there.”

She nodded, stepping into the room and sitting on your bed, “Time for a break?”

You knew what the hopeful smile on her face meant, she had plans for the two of you.

You looked at her with hesitant eyes and she chuckled, remembering how well you knew her.

“I was thinking we could go meet some of my friends?” Aubrey continued, “I’m kind of seeing this one guy and his friends are great. They’re a lot but I think you’ll love them and they’ll love you.”

“Aubrey, I-” You paused, “I really should finish up in here.”

“Come on, Y/N, we have all day tomorrow to finish and you need a break. I feel like I’ve barely even seen you and it’s been three days.”

You let out a laugh at her words, she was right. It felt like your life had been on hold for so long but now you had the opportunity to start fresh, to put yourself out there in a world that had no existing opinions of you.

“Fine,” you groaned, standing up from your spot on the hardwood, “But you have to help me find something to wear.”

“Deal!” Aubrey exclaimed, dragging you out of the room and into her own to go through her closet.

Just over an hour later, you were squeezed into a booth of the bar surrounded by men almost twice your size. Aubrey failed to mention that the guy she was seeing, but not dating as she vehemently claimed, was a Flyer and so were his friends.

You didn’t know what to expect from the group, but it didn’t take long for you to conclude that they were sweethearts, especially Travis, Aubrey’s “friend.” After introducing you to each of them, it felt like you had always been a part of the gang.

The beer and conversation were flowing, the bellowing laughs coming from the table practically feeling the air of the entire bar. You quickly fell into the banter, fitting in right away after growing up with brothers.

“There he is!” You suddenly heard Kevin shout from next to you, “Took you long enough, Patty.”

You looked up from your drink to see the man you could only assume to be Patty, his tall frame towering over you as you sat on the edge of the booth. He was dressed in all black, and his hair was long and frankly, unkempt as it curled around his ears. Even in the dim light of the bar, you could make out his light eyes, the blue piercing you as he finally met your gaze from his seat directly across from yours.

“Nolan, this is my friend Y/N,” Aubrey started, “She just moved in with me.”

Nolan reached out his hand across the table which you happily met, secretly hoping he couldn’t feel how clammy you had gotten since he walked in. He softly smiled as your hands touched, the corners of his mouth barely lifting but just enough.

“Nice to meet you,” he mumbled.

“You too,” you replied, flickering your eyes to the other end of the table before you caught yourself staring.

You were right away distracted by something Travis was chirping Claude for from this morning’s practice, but something about the man sitting just a few feet away from you was still consuming your thoughts.

You were pretty sure he had already decided that he didn’t like you. He had barely said a word aside from his initial pleasantries, but from then on it was almost like he wasn’t even acknowledging your presence. You didn’t know why you even cared, but there was something about his presence that made you on edge.

“I’m going to get another one,” you blurted out, everyone’s attention shifting to you.

“I’ll come with,” Aubrey declared.

“I’m good, stay,” you responded, giving her a knowing look. She was practically sitting in Travis’s lap, her hands wrapped around his neck while his eyes were stuck on her like she was the only one in the room. Not dating, my ass, you thought to yourself.

You slid off the cushion and headed towards the bar, the air already feeling lighter the further away from the group you got. You loved them, they were great, but it was just so much new at once. You needed a breather.

It was a packed Friday night and you knew it would be a while before you got your drink, so you sat down on the first available stool you saw. You caught the bartender's attention right away, but she was clearly swamped. You sent her a reassuring nod, telling her to take her time. She smiled right back at you, evidently grateful for your patience.

After what felt like barely a minute of waiting, you felt a body slide next to yours, the scent of cheap cologne overwhelming you as you braced yourself for what was about to happen.

“Hi there,” he spoke, leaning his weight against the bar top as he boxed you in.

“Hi,” you sighed. To put it simply, you were not in the mood.

“You got a name?”

“I do,” you chuckled in disbelief, turning your body away from his as your eyes scanned the room for anyone familiar. Which of course there wasn’t.

“A snappy one, alright,” he spoke, his hot breath fanning over your neck, “Well I’m Brett, what are you drinking?”

“Nothing,” you snapped.

“Oh c’mon, let me buy you a drink,” he continued, either not picking up on your hints or purposely ignoring them.

“I’m really all set.”

Just before he was about to open his mouth to speak once again, you felt his hand rest flat against your back, your body arching away from him immediately at the contact.

“Do not fucking touch her.”

The deep voice echoed in front of you, your vision clouded as your mind raced in a million directions.

“Listen, man, I got this.”

“No, I don’t think you do,” you heard, the vibrations of his voice running straight through your body.

Nolan.

You may have just met him, but that was a body and voice you couldn’t forget.

You had no idea what overcame you, but before you could process what you were doing you wrapped your arms around his torso. Nolan immediately reciprocated, his arm falling across your shoulders and pulling you close to his frame.  

“Just leave,” Nolan asserted, “Don’t make this more difficult than it has to be. It’s already embarrassing enough that you can’t take no for an answer.”

Your body relaxed against his, Nolan’s words calming your worst fears right away. From your vantage point, you assumed Nolan easily had at least six inches and thirty pounds on him. That seemed to be enough for him, backing away with a faulty glare and disappearing into the crowd.

“Nolan, I-” you stuttered, not knowing what to say, “Thank you,” you finally got out, your voice barely loud enough to hear over the hum of voices.

“Don’t mention it,” he muttered, his aura still cold.

You were so caught up in the shock of the moment that you hadn’t realized you were still holding each other, and right away you dropped your arm from his waist. Nolan did the same, awkwardly moving to sit on the stool next to you and flag the bartender.

You missed the warmth of his body right away, the spicy scent of his skin in stark contrast to the Axe you could only assume the other one was wearing. You swore you could still feel the ripple of his abs beneath his t-shirt on your fingertips. It was silent for a minute, both of you trying to come up with the right words.

“I really can’t thank you enough. Let me buy this round,” you pleaded, your eyes locking with his.

“Y/N,” Nolan started, your face flushing as your name fell from his lips, “I’m buying.”

You smiled up at him, nodding before looking back down in hopes of hiding the flush you felt creeping up your neck and onto your cheeks.

“Can I be honest, Nolan?” You questioned.

“Shoot.”

“Do you not like me? Did I do something? I wasn’t expecting that from you of all people-” you rambled until Nolan cut you off.

“First of all, I would have done that even if I hated you. But no, I like you, Y/N. A friend of a friend of TK’s is a friend of mine.”

You laughed at the last part before you could even process the first. Nolan’s cheeks went red, clearly embarrassed at his cliché phrasing but it didn’t matter how badly he made a fool of himself as long as you were smiling. The way your eyes scrunched and your nose turned up while you laughed was enough to make him forget the day he had.

Your laughter was interrupted by your drinks, the woman leaving you with a knowing smile before she turned away. Nolan and you both stood up ready to head back to the table before he stopped you.

“Friends?” He asked, putting his hand out in front of himself.

“Friends,” you agreed with a grin, shaking his hand before walking back to the group together.

~

two

You dreaded first days.

No matter how old you got, the anxiety of walking into an unfamiliar room full of unfamiliar faces never lessened. But you were ready, you reminded yourself, putting your head up and walking to the classroom like you had been there a hundred times before.

By the time you were walking out after the 90 minutes were up, your heart was pounding and you could feel the tears pricking the back of your eyes as you ran out of the building, not even bothering to introduce yourself to anyone.

The walk from the university back to your apartment was a blur. You couldn’t believe you had made such a poor first impression. You thought you were prepared, you had your notebook ready and all the right textbooks in order, but you somehow missed that there was an assignment due on the very first day.

As you rushed through the busy streets of the city, dodging people left and right, your mind raced back to that room.

“Ms. Y/L/N, can you please give your thoughts on the first case study?” Your professor questioned, intently watching you as your panic set in.

Your heart began to race and your palms sweat as you struggled to find the words to say that you hadn’t done the reading. This had never happened to you before, you were an A+ student for your entire life, almost unhealthily so. You couldn’t remember the last time you had missed an assignment, it just wasn’t something you did.

“Alright, then. Anyone else who actually checked the syllabus have something to say?”

Your professor's words were stuck in your head, playing over and over again when you finally reached your building. Now that you were so close to being in the comfort of your own space you could feel your wheels spinning, the stress and emotion overtaking your body.

Your hands shook as you tried to unlock the door, your body pushing through the threshold when you finally got it open.

“Aubrey?” You called as you walked through the hallway. She had known you for so long and always knew what to do to calm you down. But instead of Aubrey’s bright voice welcoming you back, you were met with silence.

“Where are you?” You muttered under your breath, your voice shaking as the tears threatened to spill over any second. As you turned the corner into the living room, you found three bodies spread across the couch, none of whom belonged to Aubrey.

“Oh,” you sputtered out, surprised to see Travis, Kevin, and Nolan watching a game.

“Y/N!” Travis called out, his infectious smile almost making your tight-lipped frown fade, “Aubrey just ran out for something but she should be back soon.”

You could feel Nolan’s gaze burning into you. You did your best to avoid his eye contact in hopes of hiding your current state from him. He had been nothing but kind to you, but you still felt so exposed standing in front of him, suddenly insecure about your outfit.

“I’m just going to go,” you whispered, pointing down the hall to your room. You felt horrible just ignoring them like that, but you knew you didn’t have it in you to keep up with them right now.

Your bag fell out of your hands almost instantly as soon as the door to your room clicked shut, the sound of your laptop hitting the hardwood floor making you cringe. You collapsed on your bed face first, the emotion you had been holding back for what felt like forever overwhelming you. Your body wracked in sobs as you replayed your embarrassment in a seemingly endless loop.

Nolan knew something was wrong the second he saw you. He may have only met you just a few days ago, but after growing up with two sisters he recognized the signs right away. He had no idea what was wrong, but he did know that you were barely holding it together.

Your head snapped up when you heard a series of soft knocks on your door, “Aubrey?” You asked, your voice rising with hope.

“No, uh, it’s Nolan.”

Your face fell when you heard his deep voice through the wood. You barely knew Nolan, he couldn’t see you like this. You paused for a moment wondering if he would just leave if you didn’t respond, but you could see his shadow through the bottom crack of your door, his feet were planted and didn’t show any signs of moving any time soon.

You silently groaned and picked yourself up, not even bothering to look in the mirror before opening the door because you knew it was not going to a pretty sight regardless. You hastily wiped underneath your eyes, the black of your mascara flaking right off your tear-stained skin. This wasn’t exactly how you wanted the new boy in your life to see you right after meeting you, but you just were friends, right?

“What, Nolan?” You sighed when you finally opened the door.

You didn’t mean to be so stark, but it just came out. His presence overwhelmed you just like it had at the bar a few nights ago. He was leaning against the door frame with his hands tucked into the pockets of his sweatpants. The backward hat resting atop his head flattered him perfectly, drawing attention to the tufts of his brown hair curling around his ears and neck.

Nolan stood up straight as soon as he saw you, his eyes softening when his suspicions were confirmed: you had been crying.

“I just wanted to check on you,” he mumbled, his eyes never leaving your own.

The tension in your shoulders released as you looked up at him. He didn’t say anything else, just tilting his head down towards you as he continued to scan your face for any signs of how you were feeling. You couldn’t pinpoint it, but there was something about Nolan that made you feel so safe, so secure, like as long as you were with him you could avoid your demons.

“I’m fine,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

“No you’re not,” Nolan rebutted, raising his eyebrows as if he was challenging you to lie to him again.

You didn’t say anything, but rather you moved your body to the side and ushered him into your room. Nolan happily obliged, awkwardly standing as he took in his surroundings. Your room was just as he expected, it was minimal, just like his. You didn’t like clutter, everything had a place. It was one way you tried to control the chaos that was your life.

“You can sit,” you spoke, breaking the silence.

Nolan nodded and sat next to you at the foot of the bed. You couldn’t help but let your eyes trail along his leg, the way his thighs stretched the fabric of his sweatpants making your cheeks flush.

“It was my first day at this new program I’m in and it didn’t go well, that’s all,” you finally sputtered out, staring down at your lap as your hands fidgeted. “I’ve never been good at first impressions,” you added, a gentle laugh escaping your lip as you thought back to your first time meeting Nolan.

“Listen, I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,” Nolan encouraged, “You seem like a pretty great person.”

You scoffed at his attempt to make you feel better, your emotions creeping their way back into your head.

“It was-” you paused, using every fiber within your being to try not to lose it in front of him, “It was bad.”

“C’mere,” Nolan whispered, turning on the bed to face you more and opening his arms, practically begging for your embrace.

You shook your head, closing your eyes as the fresh tears started burning. You were so selective in who you exposed your most vulnerable state to, and you barely knew Nolan. But despite this, you felt such an instant connection with him, and if his overt kindness was any indication, he felt the same way.

You let your final guard down, leaning back and curling into Nolan’s frame. He immediately wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight against him as one hand moved up to your head to rub soft circles into your hair.

“Go ahead and cry,” he hummed, his body gently rocking you back and forth.

You melted at his touch, your head nuzzling into the crook of his neck, the muted orange of his Flyers hoodie the last thing you saw before your eyes shut in sobs. His scent was overwhelming, the mix of his body wash and the leftover cologne lingering on his hoodie flooding your senses. You felt as if you disappeared in his grasp, like the world around you vanished and nothing else mattered.

You didn’t even know how much time had passed, but Nolan didn’t move an inch. He held you like it was the only thing he had to do all day. Once the tears stopped falling and your breathing steadied, you pulled back, instantly flooded with embarrassment.

“Wow,” you chuckled, wiping your cheeks, “I am so sorry, Nolan, I don’t know what happened I just-”

“Don’t,” he interrupted, “We’re friends, remember?” He teased, the corners of his mouth lifting in a gentle smile as he bumped your shoulder.

“Yeah,” you laughed.

“I think we were planning on grabbing some food,” Nolan mumbled, his hand scratching the back of his neck as he spoke, “If you want to come.”

“Oh, I don’t know.”

“Come on, you’re coming. If I have to put up with those two out there so do you.”

You rolled your eyes, but it was the least you could do after what he had just done for you.

“Give me five minutes to look less dead.”

Nolan smiled as you agreed, slipping out of the room so you could change and freshen up.

“What the fuck was that?” Nolan was bombarded by Kevin as he sat back down.

“Nothing,” Nolan mumbled, not in the mood to be questioned about things he didn’t even know the answer to.

“She let you go in there?” Aubrey asked, just having gotten back.

“Yes?” He responded, confused by her question.

Aubrey didn’t bother getting into it and changed the subject instead, but inside she was scheming. She knew you, how closed off you were, but here you were opening up to Nolan like you’ve known him for years. Nothing made Aubrey happier than watching this friendship bloom, and she couldn’t help but wonder if there was potential for more.

~

three

Team galas usually didn’t bother Nolan, it was part of the job, but tonight it was the last place he wanted to be. His tux felt too tight, the stuffy conversation with potential sponsors was putting him to sleep, and his date was, to be frank, insufferable.

Nolan had no problem going to an event without a plus one, he and TK were usually the two single guys spending their time causing trouble, but now that Aubrey was in the picture Kevin had decided he had seen enough. So, despite Nolan begging him to leave him alone, Kevin set him up with one of his friends from Boston.

She was just as Kevin described, beautiful and smart, but that was about all. Nolan was calm and reserved, at least until he was comfortable with someone, but she was the complete opposite. Her personality filled the entire room and although he admired her confidence, Nolan was exhausted. He felt like he couldn’t be himself, like he had to work to match her energy.

After what felt like hours of entertaining her and Kevin, Nolan made his escape to the bar. It was the first moment to himself he had, the relief immediately flooding him as he leaned against the counter. He titled his glass to the bartender, silently requesting a refill when he felt his phone buzzing in the pocket of his suit pants.

Nolan begrudgingly pulled the phone, wondering who it could possibly be. The entire team was with him and it was unlike his family to call him on a Saturday night. But when he saw your name flashing across the screen, his whole demeanor shifted.

“Nolan!” He heard you exclaim, your voice like a breath of fresh air.

“Y/N?” He questioned. You had never called him out of the blue like this before. Nolan nodded to the bartender thanking him before taking his drink and walking out to the empty hallway so he could hear you better. “Everything okay?”

It wasn’t really. You had just come back home from a date, one Aubrey practically forced you to go on. You pleaded to her that you were fine, that you weren’t ready to start dating in the city yet, but regardless, you found yourself sitting across from one of her coworkers at a restaurant downtown.

There was nothing wrong with him, he was nice, but it was evident to you before your drinks were even ordered that this wasn’t going to work. You pushed through the meal, putting on your best fake smile and pretending to laugh at his forced humor. You politely declined his offer to walk you home, instead opting to get an Uber so you could get out of your dress as soon as possible.

Now you were home, your sweats on and hair up with a glass of wine in your hand. The glass quickly turned into almost the entire bottle, drowning your sorrows of another failed date with your favorite red. That’s when you made the mistake of picking up your phone, your fingers scrolling through your contacts until you found the one name you knew would be able to distract you.

“I’m great. I mean I’m not, but it’s fine,” you rambled, your words slurred as you spoke.

For once it was you mumbling and not Nolan. He didn’t know what, but his gut was telling him that something was wrong, he could practically smell the alcohol on your tongue through the phone. After a long pause of trying to figure out what to say, his thoughts were interrupted.

“Come over?” You whispered, “I’m so sick of being alone.”

Nolan’s heart dropped at your words, his eyes blinking shut as he pondered his next move. His eyes scanned the ballroom, finally landing on his date. She was sitting at their table, Nolan’s empty seat sticking out like a sore thumb, laughing at whatever story of his college days Kevin was regurgitating. He would feel like an ass if he just left, and he would be lying if he said the prospect of an easy lay hadn’t crossed his mind tonight, but you were more important.

“Give me twenty.”

-

Since calling Nolan you had migrated from your bed to the couch, a blanket sprawled across your body while you laid horizontal. The only light in the room was from the TV as one of your comfort movies played. You were barely paying attention, instead zoning out and staring at the lit-up city around you from the window.

Your mindless thoughts were interrupted by a series of knocks on the door. You threw the blanket off of your body and stood up, slowly dragging your feet across the hardwood as you made your way. But you were nowhere near prepared for what you saw as soon as you opened the door.

Nolan towered over you in the door frame. He was wearing a suit, the soft, grey fabric clinging to his thighs and shoulders perfectly. His long hair was slicked back and tucked behind his ears. The scent of his cologne overwhelmed you instantly, the warm aroma making you want to melt into him. One hand was resting in his pant pocket, while the other was carrying a take-out bag from one of your favorite spots.

“Hi,” Nolan quietly muttered, breaking the silence.

His deep voice broke the trance you were in, and that’s when the realization hit you.

“I completely forgot you guys had that thing tonight,” you blurted, the alcohol in your bloodstream clogging your train of thought, “I am so sorry. You have to go back, I feel horrible.”

Your hands came up to your face, hiding your embarrassment. How could you forget? You spent hours this morning helping Aubrey pick out her dress.

“Y/N,” Nolan cooed, his large hands gently pulling your own off of your face, “I’m here and I’m not leaving.”

Nolan didn’t let you get another word out before he was pushing past your body. He wasn’t even enjoying himself at the event and the last thing he wanted to do was go back.

It didn’t long for the two of you to finish the food, opting to head back to the couch and ignore the many empty containers for now.

“I’m never going on a date ever again,” you slurred, “I don’t even want to look at a man ever again.”

Despite trying to be quiet, Nolan couldn’t hide his chuckle. He had heard similar frustrations from his two sisters growing up. He had been around endless assholes throughout his life, he knew how exhausting it must have been to try to find a decent one.

“Can’t blame you,” he mumbled.

Your body slumped against the back of the couch, your eyes slipping shut as the wine and food started to lull you into a sleepy haze. Nolan scanned your face, a soft smile creeping onto his face as he watched your chest gently rise and fall with each breath. Before he could catch himself, he lifted his hand and pushed back the hair that had fallen in your face, tucking it behind your ear.

In that moment Nolan knew that he was fucked.

Never before had he dropped everything for a girl as he did for you tonight. But he also had never connected with someone like he did with you. You didn’t force him to be something he wasn’t, there was no pressure to put on an act. It just felt natural with you. But your words from just a few minutes before lingered in the back of his head. You made it clear that you weren’t looking for anything right now, it only took one miserable date to remind you of that. So Nolan pulled his hand away, trying to ignore the burning of your skin against his fingertips as they trailed across your soft cheek.

You were friends. Just friends.

-

You had no idea how much time had passed, but suddenly you felt yourself stir awake, your eyes peeling open to find yourself tucked into Nolan’s side. His body was warm below yours, his arm resting across your shoulders holding you in place as you lay against his chest. From your peripheral vision, you could see his suit jacket on one of the couch cushions, the soft material of his button-down rubbing on your cheek.

You had two options. You could either acknowledge that you awkwardly fell asleep on him in your drunken state, or you could pretend that you never woke up and continue to enjoy the comfort of his embrace.

Needless to say, you chose the latter.

But you must have dozed off again because the next time you woke up you were being carried into your bedroom. Your arms were wrapped tightly across Nolan’s neck, the tips of your fingers naturally lifting to twirl the tufts of his hair.

“Shhh, I got you,” Nolan whispered as he felt you move, just before he laid you down onto your bed, “I’ll be right back.”

Nolan hastily left the room, leaving you to bask in the memory of his warmth as your head fell back against your pillow. Within just a few seconds he was back, placing a cool glass of water on your nightstand table. But almost just as fast as he came back, he was leaving again.

“Stay,” you murmured, watching him pause at the outline of your door.

“I- I got the couch.”

“Okay,” you responded, trying to hide your disappointment.

Nolan visibly cringed the second your door was closed, his head falling to his lap once he sat down. He wanted nothing more than to climb into bed with you. The thought of holding you beneath the sheets and feeling your soft skin in contrast to his rough hands made him dizzy. But the last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable. You weren’t sober enough to say he could stay, and there was no chance in hell Nolan was going to risk scaring you off. So he took the couch, laying across the cushions with his eyes locked on your door until his eyelids gave in to his exhaustion. 

~

four

It was finally Friday, another week in the books. 

Your classes were taking more out of you than you had expected, the hours of reading and note-taking blending together as you finally closed your last tab. You had no plans for the night, and you honestly couldn’t be happier about it. A hot shower, takeout, and falling asleep early encompassed your perfect night recently.

Just as you were about to get in the shower, you were distracted by your phone ringing. You picked it up, surprised to see it was Kevin calling.

“Hi, Kevin,” you spoke, a slight edge to your words. You adored Kevin, he was an absolute sweetheart, but sometimes you just didn’t have the patience.

“What are you doing tonight?”

You rolled your eyes at his question, “Nothing.”

“Incorrect, you’re coming over and hanging out with me and Pat.”

“I am?” You laughed, taken aback by Kevin’s forwardness.

“Teeks and Aubrey are coming too, come on, Y/N,” he continued.

You knew you weren’t getting out of this without a real excuse, no matter how much you wanted to stay in. You hadn’t seen Nolan since the night you embarrassed yourself, the cringe of drunk dialing him after a bad date had yet to escape your memory.

“What time?”

“Uh- Let’s say 7.”

“Alright, Kev. See you later,” you hung up the phone, throwing it back on your bed before getting in the shower.

-

As you approached the boys’ apartment door, it was quieter than you expected it to be. Aubrey said she was already with Travis and would meet you there, so you were arriving alone. You assumed they would already have been there by now, but you ignored the silence and knocked on the door.

Just a few seconds later, the door swung open and you were face to face with Nolan. Your eyes widened when you saw him, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips and his bare torso staring at you. You quickly composed yourself, using every ounce of self-control within you to avoid trailing your gaze across his broad shoulders and down his chest, the curves and divots of his abs making your mouth water.

“Sorry,” Nolan mumbled, his cheeks flushing even redder than they usually were, “I thought you were Kevin, he always forgets his keys. Come in.”

You followed Nolan into the apartment, the muscles of his back rippling as his arms swung. You sat down on the couch, awkwardly waiting while he disappeared into his room. He came back just a few seconds later, his body now hidden behind a wrinkly t-shirt.

“Where is everyone?” You questioned, your body stiff as Nolan relaxed into the cushion next to you.

“Not sure,” he mumbled, the red of his cheeks lingering, “Kev said you were coming with Aubrey?”

Your face scrunched in confusion, “He told me she was coming here with Travis.”

Nolan then pulled his phone out and started typing a message to Kevin, desperate to figure out where he was. For some reason being here with you alone was making him nervous, there was an awkward energy in the air that had never been there before.

Nolan was reaching for the TV remote, about to ask you if you wanted to put something on when his phone sounded.

Kevin: You’re welcome

Now it was Nolan’s turn to furrow his eyebrows, the boy even more confused by Kevin’s message.

Kevin: We couldn’t watch you two anymore please just do something

Kevin: I’ll be out all night

Kevin: Don’t forget protection!

Of course. Of course, this little miscommunication was, in fact, a setup. But the worst part was that Nolan knew Kevin was right. No matter how hard he tried, he had been pining over you since that very first night. And now here you two were in an empty apartment with enough sexual tension to last the year.

“No one’s coming, are they?” You broke the silence, snapping Nolan out of his trance.

He threw his phone to the side as a slight smile crept across his stern face, “Nope,” he chuckled.

If you thought there was tension before, it didn’t even compare to what you felt now. Since meeting Nolan you were under the impression that your secretly harbored feelings for him were just that, a secret, but apparently, you weren’t as subtle as you thought. This had Aubrey written all over it, and you knew Travis was under her spell and would do anything to help her, and bonus points for chirping Nolan simultaneously. It was the elephant in the room, your mutual feelings still not being spoken but you both knew you had been called out by the people who knew you best.

“What are you thinking about?” Nolan whispered, the rough hum of his voice sending chills down your spine.

You couldn’t get even a single word out, your thoughts and feelings jumbling in your mind. After all this time the perfect opportunity was finally handed to you on a silver platter, but you still couldn’t do it.

Nolan could sense your hesitation, your close proximity and sweet scent clouding his consciousness.

“I’ll tell you what I’m thinking about,” he murmured, turning his body so he was facing you.

Your eyes had yet to leave your lap, your focus stuck on the rip of your jeans. You jumped when you felt his warm touch on your lower thigh, the warmth of his calloused hands making your heart rate rise even though the thick denim. His size was intoxicating and he made you feel like putty as he leaned closer to you.

“Y/N,” Nolan mumbled, his voice deeper than ever before.

You finally lifted your gaze, turning your head up to look at him. His baby blue eyes were piercing yours, the contact lighting a fire within you. Every reasonable thought in your head was telling you to pull away, to grab your bag and politely excuse yourself. You weren’t ready for a relationship, you had barely put yourself back together after your last heartbreak and Philly was supposed to be different. But as you sat here, your face just inches away from Nolan’s, you gave in to your desire.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you connected your lips with his, immediately sighing in relief as his soft pout worked perfectly against you. You hastily swung your hips over and seated yourself on Nolan’s lap, an eager groan escaping him when your body rolled into his. His hands splayed across your hips, moving to circle your ass as he helped you grind deeper into his already hardening length.

Nolan trailed his lips down your jaw, nibbling and sucking on the plane of your neck. You knew he was leaving marks, but in the moment you couldn’t care less, the euphoria of his touch being the only comprehensive feeling.

“Please,” you whined, tightening your grip on his long locks, “Nolan.”

You couldn’t remember the last time someone had ignited you as Nolan had. He had barely even touched you and you were nearly certain you had already soaked through your panties, withering in his lap desperate for more.

“Now she has something to say,” Nolan teased, whispering into the shell of your ear. He gave you no warning before he was standing up, holding the back of your legs as you instinctually wrapped them around his waist.

Nolan gently tossed you on his bed, pausing to pull his shirt off before he was climbing on top of you. You were in a state of bliss, finally able to admire his frame shamelessly and without fear of getting caught. He continued to attack your neck, leaving mark after mark behind in his wake. You whimpered impatiently as his lips worked your sensitive skin, but Nolan was set on taking his time. He didn’t know if he would ever have you like this again and he was going to savor every second of it.

But you decided to take matters into your own hands, pushing his frame off of yours and pulling your sweater over your head. You grabbed Nolan’s face again, cupping both of his cheeks as your lips met again. He made quick work of your bra, unclasping it with ease behind your back and tossing it across the room.

“Fuck, you’re stunning,” he groaned, pausing to take you in. Your hair was splayed across the pillow, your cheeks flushed while your chest heaved up and down with heavy breathing. His praise went straight to your core, clenching around nothing as you grew more and more desperate for him.

Nolan wasted no more time, finally making his way down your torso before reaching the hem of your pants. His fingertips slowly ran beneath the fabric, stopping only to look up at you. Your eyes locked and you frantically nodded, understanding that he was waiting for your permission before continuing.

“Words, Y/N,” Nolan hummed into your thigh, his order gentle but firm.

“Yes,” you breathed out, “Fuck, yes.”

Nolan did as you said, unzipping your jeans and sliding them down your legs. He almost lost his balance on the mattress when he saw you laying before him, the pink lace resting across your hips being the only thing keeping him from you. Nolan settled himself between your legs, hooking both of them over his shoulders as his hot breath fanned over your pussy.

Nolan placed a soft kiss to your lace-covered clit, basking in your reaction as you let out an embarrassingly loud moan and your hands flew to his head, tangling in his hair. Your hips jerked up into the air, desperate for more friction. Nolan laid his thick forearm across your waist, his weight halting all of your movements and holding you at his mercy.

“Nolan, please just fuck me,” you begged, the suspense too much to handle as you felt yourself drip down the crease of your thigh.

“All in good time, baby,” he cooed, pulling your panties to the side and finally connecting with your throbbing pussy.

You cried out as his tongue flicked your clit back and forth, the pleasure only magnifying when he sucked it between his teeth. Your hands were locked with an iron grip in the roots of his hair, holding on like your life depended on it. Nolan hummed against your core as he continued to taste you, the vibrations of his voice sending shockwaves through your body.

Suddenly Nolan pulled back, but before you could protest you heard ripping. A gasp left your lips when you realized what he had done, the mangled lace of your panties now laying on his floor. You wanted to yell at him, complain that those were your favorite, but before you could get a word out he was back at work, this time fucking his tongue in and out of you.

Your head fell back against the pillow, your mouth opening in a silent scream when you felt him slide two fingers inside while his mouth circled your clit again. Nolan curled his fingers against your sweet spot and you knew you were done for, your back arching off the mattress as you combusted with your orgasm.

Nolan milked you through your high, his tongue flattening against your clit as his head shook and his fingers kept their pace. He finally slowed down as he felt you come down, pulling back to watch you shake as the last waves of pleasure rolled through your body. He slipped his fingers out of your fluttering pussy, only to bring them to his mouth and suck your juices clean.

“You’re really good at that,” you stammered, just now coming back to your senses after almost blacking out.

Nolan laughed, kissing his way back up your body until you two were face to face again. You couldn’t resist pulling him down and crashing your lips against his, moaning into his mouth as you tasted yourself on his tongue.

“I’m good at other things too,” he smirked, tucking your hair behind your ear, just as he had done last week, except this time he didn’t have to hide it. The soft action made your heart flutter, but his words made something else flutter.

“Give me your best, Patrick,” you challenged.

“Your wish is my command, baby.”

Nolan pushed off his arms and stood up, hurriedly stripping himself of his sweats and boxers in one fell swoop. A whimper escaped your lips when you heard the sound of his cock slapping against his stomach, your pupils dilated as your eyes trailed down his thighs admiring his tattoos. 

Reaching across you to get a condom from his nightstand, Nolan was surprised when you plucked it right from his hand. You tore open the foil and slowly rolled the condom onto him, a small smile spreading across your face when his hips buckled into your hand at your touch.

You may have been embarrassingly weak for him, but he was just as weak for you.

Nolan shifted on the bed so he was hovering over your body, leaning down to press a kiss to your mouth. Your lips moved in sync with one another, the pure lust filling the room dictating every movement. He felt you grow more and more impatient, your body stirring beneath his as he finally pulled away.

Taking one last look at you spread out before him, waiting for him to touch you, Nolan directed his attention back to between your legs. He locked eyes with you before collecting the salvia in his mouth, harshly spitting on your pussy. The moan you let out was only amplified when he started teasing you even more, dragging the head of his cock through your soaking folds.

“Nolan,” you whined, the last letter of his name prolonged as you begged, your entire body tensing while he tapped your already so sensitive clit.

“Shhh,” he cooed, rubbing his thumb in soothing circles against your hip, “Got to make sure you’re ready for me.”

Before you could get in another word of protest, Nolan was pushing one of your legs into your chest and sliding inside. Your mouth fell open as he slowly bottomed out, the sensation of him filling you paralyzing. A string of deep swears left his lips as he felt you already clenching around him.

After letting you adjust, Nolan started rocking his hips, quickly finding his rhythm. You didn’t have a single thought in your head, the way he hit your sweet spot inside and ground against your clit making you dizzy.

Nolan had never been in such bliss. He could never have imagined how good you would feel wrapped around him, your walls still pulsating from your first high as he slid in and out. The way your name sounded falling from his lips was pure ecstasy, his innate possessiveness in full drive. Your nails dug into his back, dragging burning lines into his skin that he knew he would be tormented about tomorrow in the locker room but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but the way your bodies fit together in perfect harmony right this moment.

You could feel yourself growing close within mere minutes, Nolan’s relentless thrusts giving you no mercy. He could tell you were almost there by the way you were fluttering around him, along with the mindless sounds of pleasure escaping your lips getting louder and louder.

“That’s it,” Nolan encouraged in your ear, “Cum for me, Y/N.”

Between his hot breath against your tingling skin and his plunging thrusts, Nolan had you seeing stars.

“Nolan, Nolan,” you whined.

You swore you almost blacked out, your vision going blank as he fucked you through your high. He wasn’t far behind you, the clenching of your pussy egging him on until he finally let go, his hips stuttering and groans filling the air as his head fell into the crook of your neck.

“Fuck,” Nolan sighed, letting his heart rate steady as he laid above you, resting the majority of his weight on his forearms.

“Yeah,” you responded with a breathy laugh, your mind still blank as you came down.

Nolan stayed there for a few minutes before finally sitting up, cringing as you whimpered when he pulled out. Your eyes slipped shut, but you could hear him shifting around the room. After pulling on a pair of fresh boxers and dampening a towel, Nolan gently cleaned you up, biting back a smirk each time you shivered at his touch. He disappeared again, this time returning with a shirt in hand, urging you to sit up so he could help you pull the soft fabric over your head.

You had every intention of getting dressed and leaving, but you just couldn’t find the energy to remove yourself from his warm bed. The sheets that smelled like him enveloped you, and now his t-shirt was draped over your shoulders begging you to stay. Nolan slid next to you, his body cradling yours from behind as he wrapped an arm around your waist, holding you impossibly close.

“Sleep well, Y/N,” Nolan hummed into your neck as he settled in.

“Goodnight,” you managed to get out, the shame of what you had just done starting to spiral in your head.

You made a mistake. Nolan was good, so good, and he deserved more than you could give him. Your last relationship ended in disaster, leaving you broken and abandoning the idea of finding love ever again. Regardless of what you told your friends and family, it was what drove you from home. Then came Nolan, he was the definition of kind. Even when he barely knew you he did whatever he could to protect you. That kind of guy deserves someone who’s got it together, not whatever mess you were. You couldn’t believe you let your attraction to him get the best of you, and now here you were, pressed against his sleeping frame as he held you.

Everything inside of you was telling you to leave. It was too much, the eventual pain of whatever this was ending was overwhelming. You could hear Nolan snoring behind you, the sound of his contentment almost bringing tears to your eyes. Gently lifting his arm from its spot across your waist, you slid from underneath his grasp. It was nearly impossible to find your clothes in the dark, but you managed to do so without making too much noise. Nolan didn’t even stir as you moved around him, folding the shirt he gave you and placing it on the nightstand.

Just as you reached for the door, you felt yourself pause. Don’t do it, Y/N. Don’t do it. But you couldn’t resist, slowly turning to take in what you were leaving behind.

Nolan was passed out, his body leaning towards the pillow where you once laid your head and his arm laying flat as if he was still holding you. You could make out the redness of his cheeks in the dim light, his eyelashes curling down onto his cheeks. Your heart broke as you looked at him, but you knew it was what you had to do. He deserved the world, which was much more than you were able to give him. Without giving it another second of thought, you opened the door as quietly as possible and made your escape.

~

+ one

It had been over three weeks since you last spoke to Nolan.

You couldn’t handle facing him just yet, so you did what you knew best: shutting out the people that cared about you the most. You ignored every single one of his calls and texts, eventually muting his number when it became too much. You replayed what you imagined he looked and felt like that morning, waking up to a cold, empty bed. It was heartbreaking, but you stayed firm in your decision. As long as you didn’t have to see his face you would be fine.

But of course, Aubrey had different plans for you.

Since that night, you had been more distant from her than ever before. You left the apartment early in the morning, spending your day in class and bouncing between different coffee shops while working. You kept up appearances when you returned in the evening, saying hello and asking her how her day was, but practically nothing else. You made an early exit to your room, citing homework or lack of sleep as your excuse. But she knew you better than anyone else, it was no secret something was wrong. Much to your content, you could only assume that Nolan was keeping your secret as well, knowing that if he told anyone on the team you would be getting an earful from her.

But Aubrey had decided that she was done letting you sulk about whatever it was you were so clearly upset by. The Flyers had been away for almost two weeks and tonight was their first game back home. Thanks to Travis, she had two tickets in hand ready for the two of you.

Before you had even shut the apartment door behind you after arriving home, she was jumping up to greet you.

“Hey!” Aubrey exclaimed as you walked in, “We’re going out tonight.”

You just stared at her confused, knowing damn well you had no intention of going anywhere. “Hey,” you started, “I- I don’t think so, I have a lot to do.”

“No, you don’t. Listen, I don’t know what is going on with you but I’m sick of watching you wallow in whatever it is. I’ve barely talked to you in almost a month, you’re coming with me,” Aubrey snapped. If there was one thing about having such an old friend it was that she always gave it to you straight.

“Where?” You begrudgingly inquired.

“Nope, it’s a surprise,” she answered. If her inkling was correct, whatever had you in this funk had something to do with a certain Flyers centerman and she was not risking you ditching because of it.  

“Fine,” you groaned.

It wasn’t news to you that you had been a horrible friend recently. Despite the anxiety that came with breaking your current routine, maybe a night with Aubrey was just what you needed to take your mind off everything.

-

A few hours had passed, and you were sitting in the back of an Uber watching the city pass you by. Aubrey maintained the anonymity of the destination, ignoring all of your pleas for even just a hint. But there were some things that she couldn’t control.

Your stomach dropped when you saw where the car was heading towards, the large Wells Fargo Center plastered on the side of the building cluing you in. Of course, you thought, how could you not have known. You had so strictly blocked Nolan and the entire team from your mind that didn’t think to look at their schedule, but now it all made sense.

“Aubrey, no,” you stated, your voice already shaking as you got closer and closer.

“What the hell happened?” she snapped back, finally getting confirmation that your funk was related to Nolan.

“Nothing, nothing happened. I just don’t want to go,” you rebutted, “I’m not in the mood to see everyone, okay?”

“You don’t have to, we’re sitting alone,” she responded, turning her phone on and showing you the location of the tickets. As she promised, they were nowhere near the family boxes.

You didn’t say anything else, instead choosing silence as the car pulled up to the entrance. You both thanked the driver before quickly exiting, a long, awkward silence falling over the two of you as you entered the arena.

You could do this, you told yourself while adjusting in your seat. You could sit through one game, you didn’t even have to see or talk to anyone. If it would make Aubrey happy, you could suck it up and sit down. The two of you had still barely said a word to each other since arriving, and you could see the disappointment on her face. Deciding it was time to get over it, you put your arm around Aubrey, smiling as you instantly felt her relax and place her head on your shoulder. Neither of you said anything, but after knowing each other for so long, you didn’t have to. She knew what you meant.

-

You didn’t know what to expect, but the second you saw Nolan step onto the ice you were flooded with emotion. He looked tired, like he hadn’t been sleeping much or well, and your heart dropped at the thought that you may have been the reason why. You still were firm in your decision to avoid anything serious right now, but you knew you went about it in the completely wrong way. Nolan was the closest thing you had ever met to an angel, but you treated him like a random one night stand from the bar you barely knew. The guilt had overtaken you over the past few weeks, and seeing him in the flesh wasn’t helping.

It was a relatively uneventful game, the rebuilding Red Wings visiting and not giving the Flyers much of a fight. By the third period they were up 4-0, one of which was scored by number 19 himself. As the horn sounded signaling the end of the game, Aubrey turned to you.

“I was going to go see Travis,” she hesitated, “Do you want to come? Or I can meet you right after?”

“I’ll wait for you,” you encouraged.

Aubrey thanked you, squeezing your hand before getting up and heading downstairs. Instead of going to the main concourse to wait, you stayed in your seat, waiting for the crowds to clear out before you moved. Pulling your phone out of your pocket, you started mindlessly scrolling as a distraction.

But your distraction didn’t last for long.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Your eyes slipped shut when you heard his voice, that same voice that left you weak in the knees. You immediately felt your heart begin to race and your palms sweat. You felt caught. After taking a moment to pause, you finally mustered up the courage to look up at him.

Nolan’s eyes were focused on your own, his hair slicked back and soaking wet still with sweat. He had definitely not showered yet, between the fact that the game just ended minutes ago and his appearance. He was dressed in his undergarments and slides, clearly he wasted no time before coming up here to find you.

“How did you even know I was here?” you questioned back, already feeling yourself on the defense.

“Really?” Nolan scoffed, “Travis told me. How else would I have known? It’s not like you talk to me.” He trailed off, his words becoming quieter.

“Nolan, please,” you pleaded, “Please sit down.”

There was no doubt in your mind that it was time for you to come clean. You could see the pain in his eyes and the hurt behind his voice. He obliged, sinking to sit in the seat beside you, but he didn’t turn to face you. His coldness was evident, and you knew that you deserved nothing else.

“I’m sorry,” you began, “I’m so sorry, Nolan. I- I shouldn’t have left like that, with no explanation-”

“I thought I had you,” he interrupted, “Finally, Y/N, after all those weeks of tiptoeing around it, I thought we were done pretending.”

You could feel the tears burning behind your irises, and it was taking everything within you not to let them out. Nolan’s words broke you, even more than you were already broken.

“Nolan, I wanted- I want,” you corrected yourself, “Nothing more than to give myself to you, but I- I just can’t. I’m not ready.”

“Then why did you sleep with me?” his voice cracked, “And what does that even mean, ‘you’re not ready’?”

“I can’t let myself get hurt again, okay? I can’t do it,” you sighed, finally succumbing to your emotion, “I am so sorry for dragging you into my mess, but I can’t let myself go through that again. And you deserve so much better.”

Your head fell to your hands, hiding your face from him as you cried. Even just speaking out loud your last heartbreak made you a wreck. Deep down you knew Nolan wasn’t capable of hurting you like that, but you wouldn’t let him take care of you anymore. You couldn’t. He deserved someone who didn’t need to be taken care of.

“Y/N,” Nolan hummed, gently placing a hand on your back. He cringed when you jumped at his touch. “Y/N, look at me, please.”

You did as he asked, your red, puffy eyes lifting to meet his baby blues, putting you at ease almost right away.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Nolan murmured, “I don’t know what you think, but you’re not a burden. You’re the complete opposite and I want to show you that. If you’ll let me.” He paused, his eyes frantically scanning your face for any sign of your reaction. You were staring ahead of you, entranced with the ice below as you processed his words. Despite knowing how much it could potentially hurt, Nolan said what he thought he had to, “Even if it’s just as friends, but you can’t disappear on me again.”

You made Nolan feel at peace, like when he was with you nothing else mattered. But no matter how strong his feelings were, he cared for you enough to put them aside if that’s what it took to keep you in his life.

“I don't want to be friends,” you whispered, finally breaking the silence.

As if there was some kind of magnifying force between the two of you, your body lunged towards Nolan’s, your lips crashing together instantly. He was stunned, his body frozen in shock, but within seconds he melted against your touch with one hand on your lower back and the other tangled in your hair. It felt like time stopped in that moment, the only thing making you pull away was the lack of air.

You were both breathless, your foreheads resting against one another. Nolan took both of your hands in his, intertwining his much larger fingers with yours.

“I trust you,” you breathed out.

The grin that spread on Nolan’s face was like nothing you had ever seen before. You matched him right away, smiling as you watched the pure joy and relief wash over. The same joy and relief that you were feeling.

“Does this mean I finally get to take you out?” he asked, his deep mumble making you feel right at home again.

“Maybe,” you teased, “Only if you shower,” you added, pretending to push him off of you.

Nolan couldn’t help but fall into a fit of laughter at your subtle jab. That’s what he loved about you most, the way you could earn a smile or chuckle out of him like no one else.

He stood up from his seat, extending his hand out as he stared down at you. Without even a crumb of doubt creeping its way into your mind, you took his hand. Wrapping your arms around Nolan’s and resting your head against his shoulder, you walked out and into the hallway together.

Nolan leaned down and pressed a gentle peck to your forehead, and for the first time in longer than you could remember, you felt untouchable.

~