#at least just to finally empty my drafts lol

[zebrafizz]

🍎

[cxtori]

Satoru Gojo ✭ Kiss Me Back

wc: basically 5k… it wasn’t meant to be lmao

summary: based off of this thought i posted a while ago

genre: angst, fluff, drunk “confession” but it gets misunderstood, friends to lovers, silly drunk Gojo

warnings: n/a

tori’s note: I finished this fic after having it in my drafts for almost a year. I kinda strayed from how my original prompt went lol. Idk how I feel about the second half of this, I’m not a huge fan of it but y’know, it be what it be. Hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

Gojo doesn’t drink often. In fact, it’s more accurate to say he never drinks. He hates alcohol. The way it tastes, the way it burns, and especially how quickly it affects his system.

He’s always been a lightweight, it only taking a few shots before he was intoxicated. But for some reason, Shoko’s teasing pressure to get him to drink got to him a lot more tonight than usual. 

It was supposed to be only one shot, then just one more. But now, here he is, a couple hours later and 6 shots down, drunk and stumbling, leaning against you for support.

You grunt as you struggle to keep the tall man vertical and walk him down the street to your car. 

“You are amazing, Y/n,” Gojo slurs, wrapping his arm tighter around your neck. You huff and roll your eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, you’ve said that 3 times already,” you laugh lightly. Gojo trips over his own foot, causing you to stumble and almost fall. Thankfully, you catch yourself and keep the two of you from crashing into the concrete. 

“Jeez, Toru! Are you serious?” You ask, unbelieving that he was so intoxicated that he really couldn’t walk straight. Gojo only moans miserably in response. “We’re almost there,” you sigh.

You knew how much he hated the repercussions of drinking and tried to stop him before it was too late. But he seemed to be feeling a little self-destructive tonight, so your warnings fell on deaf ears, much to your annoyance. Even so, you still felt empathetic enough to take him home yourself, turning down Nanami’s kind offer to do so.

After another block of walking and stumbling, you finally make it to your car, opening the passenger side and awkwardly shuffling around as you try to help Gojo into the seat. It felt like he was purposefully doing everything he could to make this simple task as complicated as possible. Which, honestly, you wouldn’t put past him. 

You eventually get him and his lanky limbs into the vehicle and hold back a laugh when he groans and dramatically drapes himself over your center console, arms spilling into the driver’s seat. You walk around to the other side of the car, moving his arms carefully before sitting down and pushing him to lean against the window. 

“Okay, tough guy. You still have the water Nanami gave you?” You ask. Gojo clumsily reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out the water bottle he somehow managed to fit in there. Damn men’s pocket sizes.

“Good, I want it empty by the time I make it to your place,” you state, turning on the car and pulling into the street.

“The whole thing?” Gojo whines. You laugh breathily, finding amusement in his drunk demeanor.

“Yes, the whole thing. Gotta stay hydrated so drink up!” You encourage. 

The white-haired man mutters a complaint as he cracks open the bottle, and you watch dumbfounded as he drains it in seconds. 

“I didn’t mean drink it all at once…” you say. Gojo shrugs and sinks further into his seat. 

You drive in silence for a few minutes, the pale, orange street lights whizzing by and the soft, white noise of the tires rolling on the pavement making the ride a peaceful, comforting experience. At least it would be if Gojo wasn’t staring holes into the side of your face. 

In his drunkenness, he’d somehow managed to misplace his glasses and blindfold, much to your dismay. You adore those brilliant blue eyes, but damn, if they weren’t intimidating as hell when they were staring you down. You do your best to ignore it, keeping your eyes focused on the road ahead of you. 

You feel your heart skip a beat when a cold, calloused finger presses gently against your temple before tracing your hairline, sweeping your hair behind your ear.

“You’re so pretty,” Gojo whispers, his words barely audible. Your breath catches in your throat, caught off guard by the sudden compliment. 

“O-oh, umm… I- th-thank you,” you stutter horribly. Gojo hums softly as though he’s satisfied with your reaction before laughing lightly. His hand leaves your quickly heating face as he turns back to the window, slumping against the cool glass. 

After what couldn’t have possibly even been a minute, you hear the faintest snore come from the man. You poke his arm, expecting some kind of reaction. But nope, he’s out.

You take a deep breath and start blasting the AC. It suddenly feels really stuffy in here.

You soon reach his house and pull into the driveway before parking the car and climbing out. You open the passenger door, being careful to not let Gojo dump out onto the ground. You shake his shoulders, whispering to him that he was home and needed to wake up. After some gentle-turned-vigorous shaking, the man wakes up bleary eyed and a bit confused. 

“Have a nice nap, sleeping beauty?” You tease, taking his arm and attempting to pull him to his feet. He grunts, reluctantly swinging his feet out of the car and onto the ground. The moment he stands, he leans back against the car, his eyes squeezed shut in discomfort. 

“Shhhhit, why did I do that?” He slurs, the alcohol still screwing with his brain. At least he’s more coherent than 30 minutes ago. 

“Not to be like that, but I did try to stop you,” you joke.

“Shut up,” he groans. His eyes open and meet with yours, but instead of holding the annoyed glare you were expecting, they were soft, appreciative. His typically pale complexion was still dusted pink, though not nearly as flushed as earlier, and there’s the faintest hint of a smile to accompany it. 

He leans against you, his arms snaking around your waist in a loose hug, and his head resting heavily on your shoulder as he sighs. “Thank you, Y/n.”

“Why don’t you thank me when I’ve gotten you inside!” You laugh awkwardly, pushing the large man off of you. 

Gojo pouts, his soft, pink lips protruding in a way that could only be described as borderline sensual. You tear your eyes away from him and link your arm in his to walk him into the house with much less stumbling this time.

You make it inside, Gojo dragging down the hall to his room while you dig in his kitchen cabinets in search of ibuprofen. Once you’ve found what you’re looking for, you grab a glass and fill it with water before making your way to Gojo’s room.

You knock on the door, the sound echoing through the cold, empty hallway. A muffled “come in” reaches your ears and you open the door. 

You step in and your eyes land on a half-naked Gojo sitting on his bed, stopping you in your tracks. He did say to come in, didn’t he?

He looks at you, a questioning expression written on his face. With everything he’s done this evening, it’s beginning to be hard to believe he’s not purposefully trying to fluster you.

You draw in a breath and walk over to him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you nervous.

“Here, for the potential hangover,” you say, handing him the pills and water. He takes it gratefully, downing the meds and water quickly. He sets the glass on the nightstand with a soft thunk, and an odd silence follows after. 

“Well, I’m gonna head home now. G’night, Toru,” you say, turning on your heels and heading to the door. Your hand barely touches the doorknob when Gojo says your name.

“Y/n,” he calls quietly. You stop and turn to him with a questioning hum, but he doesn’t give any response back other than a waving hand, signaling for you to come back to him. You shuffle awkwardly to stand in front of him, confused about what he wants. 

He stands up, his chest almost bumping against yours as he does so. You begin to take a step back, but before you can, his hands are on your waist, holding you in place. You look up at him to ask what he’s doing, but the words get stuck in your throat the moment your eyes meet his.

Those bright, cerulean eyes that were so often hidden from the world, were looking at you with such care and fondness that it made your chest tighten. 

Before you’re even aware of what’s happening, his warm, soft lips are pressing tenderly against yours. 

Your tense muscles relax and eyes flutter shut as your lips push back against his. His hands grip your waist as he pulls you closer to him before one lifts the back of your shirt, fingers dragging slowly over your skin. 

You sigh into him, your own hands traveling up his arms, to his neck, eventually finding home in his silky hair. His other hand moves from your hip to your face, cupping your cheek as he deepens the kiss. 

His tongue darts out and sweeps across your lips and the faintest lingering taste of bitter alcohol bites your tastebuds, snapping you back to reality. It’s only then that you remember who you’re kissing, where you are, and how you got there. 

Your eyes fly open and hands move to his chest, pushing him away from you harshly. Gojo loses his balance, landing back into a sitting position on his bed, his once peaceful expression now shocked and confused. 

Your hand covers your mouth, surprised by your own actions. It’s only a second or two that you stay there, staring at each other before you decide that you should definitely leave.

“I’m sorry, I need to go,” you say, wasting no time in leaving his room and ignoring his calls for you. You jump into your car and start the engine before your door is even closed.

What were you thinking? He’s the drunkest he’s been in ages, how could you let that happen? You curse yourself as you drive home, frustrated that you allowed such a thing when your friend was in such a vulnerable state.

 You make it home and park in the driveway, but you don’t leave. You sit in your car and stare blankly at the steering wheel as the full weight of regret begins to sink in. 

You’ve desperately wanted that man to kiss you for years now. But not like this! Not when he was intoxicated and most likely not thinking straight. You wanted a genuine kiss; one he gave you because he truly wanted to. Not because his drunk-self just wanted attention.

How are you supposed to keep your feelings for him under wraps after this?

You’ll just have to lie. You’ll tell him that it was just a slip up, that you were caught off guard. That he kissed you and- dammit, you kissed him back! And not only that, you were wrapping your arms around him. You can’t play off your feelings for him when you kissed him like that!

You groan painfully as you open your door and force yourself into your house, trudging your way to your room. You change your clothes and crawl into bed before plugging your phone in. The screen lights up with the red battery, which disappears quickly, revealing a missed call and several texts from Gojo.

I’m sorry Y/n. Can we please talk?

It wasn’t what you think

Y/n?

Hello?

He almost never texts you, let alone several times in a row. But you can’t find it in you to respond. You turn off your phone and stare at your ceiling for what feels like an eternity, the moment replaying in your mind on repeat. 

It wasn’t what you think? What is he assuming you think?

You raise a finger to your mouth, remembering how it felt to have his lips on yours as you trace over them. 

It was so warm, so sweet. The way he held you close to him, so strong yet gentle. The way his thumb stroked over your face so tenderly. Maybe… it was real.

No. You can’t allow yourself to believe it was genuine and get your hopes up, you can’t.

You roll over onto your side just as your screen lights up once more. You take a glance at it and find another text from Gojo. 

I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Please let me explain.

A new wave of anxiety washes over you when you realize you’ll have to see him tomorrow. You do work at the same school after all. You don’t have a few days to process this or even find a way to respond. 

You wrap tighter into yourself and painful tears fill your eyes, not taking long before they’re streaming down your face and soaking into your pillow. You just want the earth to open and swallow you. 

Your only comfort is in the slim possibility that he was still drunk enough to have a chance of not having clear memories the next day. Maybe he’d wake up, see the messages he’d sent you and not even remember what it was about. 

You know it’s a foolish hope. He wasn’t drunk enough during that kiss to have no recollection of it. Even so, it’s the only thought that calms you down enough to fall asleep. 

Okay, all you have to do is file a couple reports, meet with Ijichi and Nitta, and check in with Shoko on a new corpse. You don’t even have to be on campus the whole day, just do your few tasks and leave. 

You were not going to talk to Gojo today. You’re not sure your heart can handle it right now. You’ve barely even processed what happened last night. It’s like your mind is trying to convince you it was a dream. But the unanswered texts still sitting in your inbox say otherwise. 

You decided you would do your best to avoid the inevitable conversation. You’re sure that when he sees you, he’ll likely confront you about it. But, if you were with others, you knew he’d keep his mouth shut. You can’t hide from him, but you make damn sure he can’t catch you alone.

You know you’ll have to talk about it eventually, just not today. And maybe not tomorrow. Or the day after that.

You take a deep breath as you walk into the school and head for Yaga’s office. You’re not too worried about bumping into Gojo here as he usually avoids this part of the school simply because he’s afraid of running into Yaga and being asked to do something he doesn’t want to. 

You make it there without incident and knock on Yaga’s door before entering. Thankfully, your meeting doesn’t last long as you just have to turn in your reports and give him a quick rundown of your past week’s assignments.

Next was finding Ijichi and Nitta. Which meant going to the more common areas of the school. Which meant risking running into Gojo.

At this point, you were just hoping he decided to go MIA today as he typically did. Or maybe he’d be too hung over to even bother getting out of bed. Whatever the case may be, you just hoped he wouldn’t be behind the door to which you are about to enter.

You turn the doorknob quietly and poke your head in, finding no one but Ijichi sitting at a desk looking over a stack of papers, and you feel relieved. You step inside and Ijichi looks up, a small smile appearing once he sees it’s you.

“Ahh, Y/n. You’re a bit early,” he greets kindly. 

“Haha, yeah. My meeting with Yaga didn’t take as long as expected,” you laugh softly as you walk over to the desk and take a seat across from the man. “Where’s Nitta?”

“She’s currently out with the first years. They were sent to investigate the disturbance you reported a few days ago. Turns out it was just a few Grade 3 curses roaming around.” Ijichi replies.

He shuffles the papers spread out on the desk into a few separate piles before picking up each one, shaking them into neat stacks and paper clipping them together.

“Oh, that’s good to know,” you say with a smile. “So, you said you and Nitta needed something?”

“Oh, yes. We wanted your opinion on-”

“Gooood morning!” A familiar voice calls happily as the door swings open. You hunch over in your chair and glue your eyes to the papers in front of you, not daring to look at the man. You didn’t think you would run into him this soon.

“Oh, goodmorning, Gojo,” Ijichi says.

“Ijichi,” Gojo greets and nods to his co-worker.

He turns to you, your eyes still studying the reports laying in front of you. It was obvious you weren’t reading them though, considering they were upside down to you. “Y/n,” he says quietly.

You still refuse to look at him, mumbling a barely audible “good morning” in return.

Ijichi, sensing some tension, clears his throat and returns to the matter that brought you here in the first place. He only had a few questions, wanting your opinion on which recent cases should be assigned to which students. It wasn’t long before you had fulfilled your need and could leave.

You say your goodbyes, stand from the desk and make your way to the door, still having not spared Gojo, who was leaning against one of the couches, even a glance.

Despite hiding his eyes behind that dark blindfold of his, you could tell he’d been staring at you the whole time. You could practically feel his gaze burning holes into your skin. But, just as you expected, he didn’t dare bring up anything about the previous night with Ijichi in the room.

You walk out the door, thankfully leaving Gojo behind it. But you weren’t sure how long he’d stay there. You make your way quickly through the halls as you head towards the morgue. You open the door and step inside, the cold air making your body shake with a chill. 

You walk through, but find no sign of Shoko. Deciding that she must be in the office, you turn and start making your way over, it being just a couple doors down the hall. 

You step outside of the morgue and about jump out of your skin when you’re met with blinding white hair. Gojo. Of course. You should’ve known he would catch up to you. 

You stand there for a moment, him standing in the doorway and therefore blocking your exit. You still can’t bring yourself to look at him, not really, only giving him quick glances. It must be so easy for him to make “eye contact” when he doesn’t really have to.

“Can we talk?” He says, his voice taking on an unusually shaky and serious tone, and you suppress a sigh. Any hope you had of him not remembering last night shattered with those three words.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you say quietly, desperately wanting to avoid the impending conversation. 

“Y/n,” he says, his large hand reaching carefully for your arm. You move quickly, avoiding his grasp.

“I don’t want to talk,” you say and push past him, making it through the doorway. You speed walk down the hallway to the morgue office, thankful that it’s just a few doors down. Gojo begins to say something but before he can, you’re knocking on the door, shutting him up quickly.

Shoko opens the door only a moment after you’ve knocked, silently stepping aside to let you in once she sees it’s you. Her neutral expression breaks a bit when she sees who’s behind you.

“Gojo, wasn’t expecting to see you today,” she says, referring to the rough condition he was in last night.

“I’m full of surprises, aren’t I?” He chuckles. He looks at you as he says this and you feel your face grow warm. Shoko walks over to her desk and shuffles through the various items in search of something.

“How are you feeling? You haven’t had that many drinks in a long time,” She asks curiously.

“I feel great actually. Y/n is a pretty good caretaker,” he says, once again looking over at you. “She’s the reason I’m not hungover.”

Yep, you certainly were. Maybe you should’ve skipped the water and ibuprofen. But that was before what happened. Past you had no idea that future you would be cursing that decision.

“He wasn’t too much trouble was he? Gojo’s always annoying when he’s drunk.” Like he’s not annoying when he isn’t drunk.

“He was fine,” you say plainly, wanting to move on from the topic.

“Fine is one way to put it,” Gojo says, an obnoxiously flirty smirk on his face. What happened to the serious and borderline nervous Gojo you had just a moment ago? Bring him back please.

“Maybe I should’ve let Nanami take you when he’d offered,” you mutter. Shoko turns back around to you, confused by the comments being made.

“Is that really what you would’ve wanted?” Gojo asks. 

“If it means we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now, then yes.”

Shoko looks between the two of you, reading the looks on your faces and expertly deciphering that this was not a conversation she needed (or wanted) to be a part of.

“I’m not getting involved in this,” Shoko mutters as she collects her things and quickly leaves the room, abandoning you in this anxiety-inducing situation. “We can meet later, Y/n.”

“Ah! Wait, Shoko!” You call, but she ignores you and walks out the door. Well, this certainly isn’t what you wanted to happen. Now you had no excuse to leave and apparently didn’t have anyone to have your back. You knew Shoko saw your plea for help in your eyes and she actively ignored it. But, it is Shoko. She always avoids getting involved in things that don’t concern her.

The silence that follows Shoko’s leaving is so incredibly deafening and you hope the ground will open up beneath you. You debate leaving, but you know that Gojo will just follow you. There was no escaping it now. Dammit, and you were so close to getting out without speaking to him.

You cross your arms over your chest and lean against the desk, your eyes glued to the floor.

“Y/n,” Gojo speaks softly. You refuse to look at him. You can’t. You don’t know what will happen if you do. “Y/n.” He steps closer to you and you sink further into yourself, feeling your throat tighten. “Let me explai-”

“What did you mean?” You close your eyes, finding yourself talking before you can even comprehend the words leaving your mouth.

“What?” Gojo says, confused. You sigh, annoyed with yourself now for having said anything.

“Your text. You said it wasn’t what I thought it was. What did you mean?” Gojo looks at you. Well, you assume he’s looking at you. He could be looking at the wall behind you for all you knew.

“I…” Gojo starts but doesn’t finish. He sighs quietly and leans against the chair in front of you. He doesn’t attempt to speak again for a long moment and you begin to wonder if he even plans to. And you’re right, he doesn’t speak. But instead, his hand reaches for the dark blindfold hiding his eyes, and he pulls it down around his neck, his snow white hair falling into his face.

You tear your eyes away as soon as he does, not able to bear even the thought of looking at him directly in those blue irises. Luckily, you’re not tempted to as he keeps his head down, his hair shielding his eyes from your view.

“I remember everything from last night,” the man says finally. You feel your heart sink. You knew he remembered, but for some reason, hearing him say so only made your anxiety worsen. “You didn’t give me a chance to say goodbye last night,” he says with a mild, teasing tone, though it was made with minimal effort, the tension in the room making it hard to joke playfully.

Your arms tighten around you and your throat burns, your eyes remaining focused on everything but him. 

“Yeah, well, I didn’t expect to be leaving in such a hurry either,” you say, risking your voice breaking into tears. Gojo chuckles.

“I thought you’d stay for a bit longer after the way you were kissing me,” He jokes, and this time it has his usual lightheartedness to it. Despite that, you feel your blood run hot through your body and for a moment you forget that you’re avoiding looking at him. Your eyes whip over to see him already looking at you, a smirk on his lips.

“Wha- you kissed me!” You whisper yell, afraid that someone outside may hear you. You can’t believe him. HE made a move on YOU, and yet he wants to talk about the way you were kissing HIM?

“Buuut, you kissed me back!” He says accusingly but airily. You close your mouth at this. He’s right, you did. And this is just what you were afraid of, him realizing that you kissing him back meant you actually enjoyed it if only a little. You couldn’t hide it.

“And I shouldn’t have, I’m sorry,” you say quietly. You turn your gaze away just in time to miss the way Gojo’s face twitches and his smile drops. Before you can’t stop yourself, you continue to speak, the coil in your throat snapping and the tears beginning to well in your eyes.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you back. I shouldn’t have let you kiss me to begin with. But please, I don’t want to hear what you have to say about it. I know you were drunk and it was a mistake just… Please, don’t tell me that.” 

The silence that follows your statement is so quiet that you can hear Gojo’s uneven breaths alongside your own. You feel the urge to run, to walk out the doors and never turn back. To find a hole somewhere to bury yourself in, never to resurface.

“You think I made a mistake?” Gojo’s words barely reach your ears, his voice so soft you almost have to strain to hear it. He looks at you, completely dejected. “Even if I did feel that way, do you think I’d come here to mock you for it? Do you think I’d be that cruel?” The hurt in his voice is so obvious that you can feel it yourself.

“I… I don’t know.” Truthfully, you did know. You knew he wouldn’t do something like that. He may be annoying, but he’s not cruel. It was out of your own fear of the outcome that you were avoiding this conversation. But then, two words in his statement stand out to you. 

Even if. 

Meaning even if it was a mistake. Meaning he didn’t think it was?

The tears welling in your eyes begin to fall when you dare to look up at him, his own already on you. But you don’t look away this time.

“Would you have kissed me if you were sober?” You ask quietly. Gojo’s shoulders slump and his face grows longer at your words. He takes a cautious step towards you, testing to see if you’ll back away. And you don’t.

“Y/n, I didn’t kiss you because I was drunk,” he replies, his voice smooth as silk. He takes another step forward, this time reaching out a hand to place on your arm, and you don’t pull away.

“That’s what I meant when I said it wasn’t what you thought. I knew you figured it was an alcohol-influenced choice. And while the alcohol admittedly may have had something to do with it, that wasn’t why I did it.” Your vision blurs as you begin to cry, your tears feeling like rivers of fire as they flow down your cheeks.

“I did it because I wanted to, Y/n,” he admits. He lifts a hand to your face, wiping your tears as he strokes your cheek with his knuckles.  “It wasn’t a mistake. It was a choice. And one I don’t regret.”

You close your eyes, not being able to see with them open anyway. His other hand moves from your arm to swipe at your tears, both hands now cupping your face tenderly.

“I don’t know what to say,” you mumble. You raise your hands to wrap your fingers around his wrists, your thumbs stroking over the back of his hands. You open your eyes, your vision clear enough to see him looking at you fondly, a genuine smile tugging at the corners of his lips. His soft lips that, in the back of your mind, you’ve been thinking about all morning.

Your gaze must have lingered on his mouth for a moment too long as his smile widens. He comes closer to you, his head towering over yours and his hands guide your face to continue looking at him.

“You don’t have to say anything right now. But.” He leans his face to yours, his warm breath against your lips. “I would like to kiss you again. And I hope you won’t run away this time.” His voice lilts in that familiar, teasing tone and your heart twists.

“I won’t,” you say with a breathless laugh. 

His large hands continue to hold your head as he moves forward, wasting no time in putting his lips against yours in a passionate but tender kiss.

And this time, you let yourself kiss him back.

©Cxtori 2024 please do not copy, plagiarize, repost or translate. reblogs appreciated

[herslvt]

Welcome Home || Kim Namjoon x black!Reader

| This is a little premature cause he doesn't come back till next week but this has been sitting in my drafts for over a year lol

No warnings ‼️ Just fluff and a sweet moment with Namjoon.

While you’re here check out my masterlist

It was just past 6 a.m. when you woke up.

The house was quiet—too quiet, the kind of silence you’d grown used to over the last year and a half. But today was different. The air felt charged, like the calm before a storm, only this storm was warm and welcome. Namjoon was coming home.

You stayed still for a few minutes, staring at the empty side of the bed. You’d barely gotten used to the emptiness of the bed you both shared, but all of that would change soon.

After a deep breath, you sat up and swung your legs over the side of the bed. The wooden floor felt cool beneath your feet, contrasting the warm feeling in your chest. Today wasn’t about just crossing days off a calendar anymore. He was real again. Physical. Coming home.

Downstairs, you moved on autopilot—brewing coffee, feeding the dog, checking your phone for any updates but there weren't any. You glanced at the time again, there was still a few hours before he'd be home.

You opened the curtains, letting sunlight pour into the living room. You’d anxiously cleaned everything the night before at least two times. Every pillow in the house was fluffed, every surface wiped till it gleamed like a fresh mirror.

Your fingers hesitated on the window latch. You used to tease him for always checking the locks, always making sure the house was safe. Now you found yourself doing it too. Maybe because the house never really felt safe without him in it.

And then that deep and familiar ache hit. You missed him. Not just his arms around you or the sound of his voice… You missed the simple things: watching him fold laundry terribly, humming to songs he’d pretend he didn’t like, the casual walks in the park as he told you facts that probably would bore you to death if they came from anyone else.

You showered for God knows how long thinking about all the times Namjoon would sneak in mid-shower just to wrap his arms around you. You'd whine like you hated it, but he knew you loved it. It was one of those intimate moments only you two shared. Away from the outside world.

That memory made you smile. God, you missed that—his warmth, his weight, everything.

You put on a simple outfit you knew he'd like. He always said he loved you more when you were yourself even if your bonnet was halfway off and your elbows were ashy. You wore the perfume he swore he didn't love, but always noticed when you wore it.

The clock ticked past 11:00 a.m. when your phone buzzed.

[From: Joon 🐨]

“On the bus. Be there in 45.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You stared at the message, rereading it until it felt real.

You rushed outside to check the front of the house—again. The flowers you’d planted last week were still in bloom, the welcome-home banner fluttered slightly in the breeze. It wasn’t over-the-top, but it was heartfelt. Just like everything with him had always been.

Back inside, you sat down on the couch—then got back up. Paced the kitchen—then sat down again. Time always seemed to slow down when you were the most anxious.

Would he look different?

Would he feel different?

Would things be the same between you?

You shook the questions out of your head. He was still Namjoon. And you were still his wife. The woman he'd chosen time and time again.

Everything else didn't matter.

Then, finally, headlights appeared through the living room window. A large white bus slowed down on your street. Your heart jumped into your throat. You rushed out to the porch barefoot, forgetting your phone entirely.

As the bus doors hissed open and people began stepping off, your eyes scanned every face—until you saw him.

Namjoon.

He stepped down last, tall and steady, his uniform crisp, his expression tired but warm. His duffel bag slung over one shoulder, his eyes searching—until they found you.

And then he smiled. That slow, soft, grounding smile you hadn’t seen in person for so long.

You didn’t even realize you’d started running until your feet hit the bottom step. Your arms were already outstretched, as his bag dropped to the pavement with a dull thud and he opened his arms to catch you.

The moment your body crashed into his, everything stilled. No traffic sounds, no breeze, no thoughts—just Namjoon. Just his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you flush against him, like he was afraid you’d disappear.

His scent hit you first—earthy, clean, slightly different, but still him. Then the warmth of his body, the press of his face into your shoulder, the way his breath caught when you whispered, “You’re home.”

You felt him nod into your neck.

“I missed you,” he murmured, voice thick and low.

You clutched the back of his shirt like it could keep time from moving. “You’re really here.”

He leaned back just enough to look at you, hands still anchored on your waist. His eyes searched your face like he was trying to memorize it all over again—every line, every freckle, every moment he’d missed.

“You look even more beautiful than I remembered,” he said, a little breathless, almost like it surprised him. “God, I forgot how much I missed your face.”

You smiled up at him, cupping his cheek. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

He leaned in slowly, forehead pressing against yours before he kissed you—soft and aching, like every letter you never got to send, every night you both stared at the same sky and hoped the other was okay.

You didn’t rush inside. You stayed there, wrapped in each other, letting the world go quiet.

He pulls away cupping your face once again. "I'm locking you away in the house for the next week, I got some catching up to do" he says making you laugh.

[aventoru]

but i love you more

ft. itoshi rin

wc : 1.5k

tags : misunderstanding/miscommunication, corporate worker!reader, proplayer!rin, awkwardness, rin being a coward, angst to fluff, rekindled love/second chance romance, happy ending!!

a/n : oh my god i'm finally finished with this fic (thank god) after it's been sitting in my drafts for MONTHS. i got the motivation to finish it in the dead of night yesterday so pls let it be worth it LOL.

highschooler!rin who is your first love. he’s there to support you in your dreams of living a simple life and pursuing a corporate job. you’re there to support him in football and his ambitions to go pro.

highschooler!rin whose brother traumatized him after getting back from spain. from then on, rin decides his ultimate goal is to surpass his brother in football and to fully achieve that, he has to break up with you.

highschooler!rin who lays awake staring at the ceiling that night, unable to fall asleep due to the rush of thoughts running through his head. he can feel himself spiraling, and he knows you don’t deserve to go through this. he has to let you go.

highschooler!rin breaks up with you the next day, stating his lame ass excuse of wanting to focus on his football career. in reality, he just doesn’t want you to get involved with him and all his negative feelings. you’re oblivious to all that he’s going through and simply accept that you’re second to football in his heart. you agree to breaking up, wishing him good luck and happiness in his future.

highschooler!rin who comes to realize how lonely he is after losing you. since you’ve been gone, his life has become dull and without life. rin feels empty without you by his side, but he knows it’s for the best.

or at least he thinks so.

proplayer!rin who regrets everything he’s done to you and misses you dearly. his love life has been rocky ever since you left, especially now that he’s famous and under the scrutiny of the media.

proplayer!rin whose recent breakup left his reputation in shambles. the public view him as someone talented and handsome, but his personality has too many flaws. “he’ll never find a girlfriend with such a personality” they say, when in fact, they know nothing about him.

proplayer!rin who realizes all the people who have dated him after you fail to understand him. he tries, of course, to be affectionate and doting and the perfect boyfriend. it’s never enough in their eyes. they always say he’s too distant and closed off. they’ve been with him for how long now and still don’t know anything about him. they’ve changed him.

proplayer!rin, having gone through many breakups and makeups, realizes quite a few things about love. he realizes love, or rather, people are complicated. he’s been through all of its troubles, from public scrutiny to betrayal. he discovers some only love him for his wealth and fame. and those who truly love him for who he is eventually leave him due to his lack of communication and emotional unavailability. he’s learned and grown from love.

but most importantly, proplayer!rin realizes he still loves you.

proplayer!rin who meets you again as part of a marketing campaign with your company. he finds out that you did achieve your goal of becoming a corporate worker as you are currently the manager of the marketing department.

proplayer!rin who is awkward when talking to you again after such a long time (and even pouts a little when you act like he’s a stranger).

proplayer!rin who tries to become friends with you, hoping that he’ll somehow be a part of your life. proplayer!rin who still sees the girl he crushed on in high school reminiscent inside the more mature you now. upon getting to know you and seeing how much you’ve changed, proplayer!rin finds himself falling even deeper for you.

you could sense him professing silent apologies to you through his actions as he complies with everything you ask him to do. for the first time in his career, proplayer!rin doesn’t complain one bit about doing pr.

ex!rin who finally manages to strike up a normal conversation with you a week into the campaign and totally doesn’t stutter one bit.

ex!rin who is surprised when you tell him you forgive him for breaking up with you in such a rude way considering his career did become incredibly successful (you don’t know how broken he is).

ex!rin who wants to tell you how much he regrets doing so but the words seem to be stuck in his throat.

ex!rin who begins subtly courting you again once he confirms his status as your…acquaintance.

ex!rin who finds himself buying you a (pretty expensive) gift on your birthday a few months after the campaign has ended. he spends the night before your birthday with you, wishing you a happy birthday right as the clock strikes twelve.

ex!rin who hands you your gift in his usual shy tsundere manner, not even daring to make eye contact with you. you accept it with a kind smile, even going as far as giving him a kiss on a cheek, but telling him to not take it the wrong way. ex!rin who blushes a bright red and finds color and happiness returning to his life at the slightest touch from you.

ex!rin who continues looking after you, inviting you to his games, taking you out to romantic dinners, buying you luxury items. but you feel like something is missing, it all seems so superficial. you eventually tell rin that you’re not friends with him for his luxury lifestyle and wealth, but rather for the highschooler!rin that you’d known.

ex!rin who finally pours his heart out to you one night, finally unveiling the trauma that sae caused back in his high school days. ex!rin who cries the most you’ve ever seen that night, claiming he regrets losing you so much. you’re moved by his words and actions these past few months, wanting to give him a second chance.

ex!rin who clings onto asks you to teach him how to love you again. to which you gently pat his head and agree.

friend!rin who is hesitant at first, reverting back to his shy and awkward self around you. yet you’re glad to see his boyish charm return, and you let him in, slowly but surely.

friend!rin who changes his ways and goes on more authentic hangouts with you. he cooks dinner for the both of you, goes on coffee dates, and watches movie marathons late into the night with you.

friend!rin who opens up about his career so far, talking about both his personal life and (unsuccessful) love life. he tells you about all the people he’s met and dated and (he avoids eye contact with you, a deep blush on his face) how he realizes you’re the best he’s ever had. you smile brightly at that, saying “i know.”

friend!rin who ends up giving you gifts again, but this time with much more meaning and sentiment tied to them. exhibit a : he saw the trend where people would make bouquets from scratch for their s/o and decided he had to do the same. you opened the door to rin holding a giant bouquet of your favorite flowers and an alarming amount of thorn pricks on his hand (you had to patch him up after).

friend!rin who unconsciously develops physical touch with you and only you. first it was just comfortably sitting next to each other. then it was the arm linking and casual hugs (that last a bit too long), which you consider to still be friendly gestures. but that somehow develops into intertwined hands and cuddling?? next thing you know he’s pressing himself up against you any chance he gets, resting his cheek against the crook of your neck.

this is definitely more than friends, but you don’t have to the heart to push rin away, especially when you know how hard it is for him to feel this comfortable after what happened with sae. and you would be lying if you said you aren’t enjoying it as well.

you also soon come to realize that itoshi rin is a coward. you two have been in this situationship for a month now and he still hasn’t come forward to ask you out like a proper person. so, you take matters into your own hands.

“what are we?” you ask him as you two are lazing on your couch, finding a movie to watch. “huh?” more-than-friends!rin turns to you. “i’m asking you what are we?” you make eye contact with him, “whatever this is has been going on for months and you’re not saying anything about it.”

more-than-friends!rin stays silent for a moment.

you almost think he’s chickening out and running away again when he suddenly whispers, “i wanna be your boyfriend.”

“hmm? i didn’t hear what you just said,” you push on.

“i said, i want to be your boyfriend!” he exclaims.

“okay!” you shout back.

everything falls silent. and then, boyfriend!rin pulls you down for a kiss.

loving you comes easy to boyfriend!rin. it’s like he’s breathing air. you two get off work, meet up for dinner (if your schedules permit), go on cute dates, and cuddle like it’s nobody’s business. he buys you cute things, you do the same. you travel together, eat together, and eventually sleep together when he asks you to move in. it’s different from all of the people he’s loved before.

he realizes that you do, in fact, love him the most.

[pro-depresanti]

Hi ;-) may i Request a OS with Val x female reader when reader gets jealous of the attention he pays to his fav toy while lunch break?

Again, I'm so sorry this took so long, this has been sitting in the drafts almost finished, I genuinely forgot it existed. Hope it was worth the wait!

Tags: fem!Reader, possessive behavior (kinda), fear kink (kinda???), mirror smut, fingering, size kink (but that's a given lol), roofies (NOT used on the Reader)

___

It's a well known fact Valentino isn't the type to settle down in any sense of the word. He's always looking for something new, whether that be substances, whores, or kinks. You're used to it, there's no other option but to accept that that's just who Val is.

You are no whore, however. It's evident in the way he doesn't let anyone as much as glance your way with hungry eyes and live to tell the tale. You're his, and that's final. That's why you aren't one of his actors. The only reason you come into the studio is to keep Valentino entertained during boring sessions and for an honest second opinion, nothing else. The thought of you participating in a shoot doesn't enter neither yours, nor Val's mind.

And, you know how Val recruites new workers. Charm, charisma, flirting, empty promises, poured to the brim glasses, vulgar words and touches, you know all of his tricks.

The film scenario for the day is pretty straight forward – a naive and innocent princess gets lost in the woods and gets destroyed by the big and scary forest monster.

The princess is a brand new actress, and has much to learn, fumbles over words, trips, flails around ungracefully, is dramatic even by porn's standards. You find it odd how understanding and patient Val is with her, but hey, that's just his tactic sometimes, trying not to scare her off from the get go. The illusion of glamour has to stay for at least a bit.

The woman in question is some kind of aquatic demon. Big expressive eyes, scales that blend into the bridge of her nose and cheeks like freckles, long wavy hair, small hands with webs between the fingers. She's more cute than sexy, perfect for the role. She still has that spark in her eyes, the promise of fame and glory fresh on her mind, thinking that she will be the new star of Hell, that Val will fall in love with her and they will live happily ever after.

Today just isn't a good shooting day. The other actor, a bear demon that's almost as tall as Val and with forearms as thick as your waist has no idea how to remove the corset the actress is wearing. Tearing the ribbon that's tying it proves just as difficult.

Eventually, Val is so pissed off he calls another actor for replacement. While waiting for the other guy to show up, Valentino calls for a lunch break, which is an oddity even in itself. Ugh, you'd have to deal with pissed off Val the whole evening once the shooting is wrapped up for the day.

"Did I do something wrong?" The actress asks. She actually looks nervous, poor thing. She'll learn soon enough to shut the fuck up if Val isn't in the mood.

"Oh no no, baby, you're doing just amazing," Valentino replies sweetly.

He's really pushing his good guy act on this one. He even bends down to fix up her corset that's now unsymmetrically tied from all the pulling and yanking. The woman giggles like a damn schoolgirl getting the first compliment in her life.

You can't help but raise an eyebrow when Val leads her over and gestures for her to sit in his chair. He then crouches down in front of her, resting his top set of forearms on her knees and looking up at her far too lovingly for your liking.

"Let's get you something to eat while we wait, yeah? Or a drink, to loosen up those nerves?"

She smiles back. "A Manhattan would be nice."

Valentino nods. "Right on it."

He actually goes to get her a damn cocktail. Valentino, the Overlord of Lust and Depravity, goes to get a cocktail for some wannabe–

"He's so nice, isn't he?" She tells you, kicking her legs happily. "All my friends were like 'don't sell your soul, he's going to use and abuse you', yadda yadda, but he's not like that! He just puts on a scary persona so people respect him more!"

You nod along. Sure, sure, Val is just a misunderstood guy with a heart of gold that he keeps locked up and saved just for her. Two weeks before her dreams shatter, tops.

"I can't believe I'm actually here! I've always wanted to be on TV! It's all so fancy, and the guy who did my makeup was super nice too! Look at that winged eyeliner! I actually feel like a princess!"

Mm-hmm, a real princess would totally wear a dress that's so short it barely covers half of her ass. Whatever, she can dream all she wants, it's none of your business. You won't be the one to ruin her hope, it will happen naturally.

You've heard it all before. The new recruits, especially the women, usually gravitate towards you during the breaks, since you're the only one here not fussing over equipment or high out of your mind. You make yourself approachable, adding yet another layer to the illusion. It's the same song and dance every time, and you're used to playing along with whatever lies Valentino has personally crafted for each one.

"But enough about me, what about you? You've been sitting here the entire time, don't you have work to do?"

You freeze up. Who the fuck does she thinks she is??? But, apparently she takes your flabbergasted silence for an invitation to continue blabbering.

"I mean, when I saw you I assumed you'd be part of the crew, setting up the lights or something. You don't strike me as one of the actors, you know? It's just a gut feeling, you don't look the part. Val wants only the prettiest girls for his projects, right? The men can be the ugliest creatures imaginable and no one would care, it's all about the women being top of the line. Val's been telling me everything about his work, I know a thing or two. I just figured you'd be... working on something behind the camera? So, what's your job?"

She is high on something, right? There's no way she just said that to the demon who's spent the entire time sitting right besides Val. Obviously she wouldn't be this stupid, right?!

You plaster on a smile. Now who isn't fit for an actor? "Oh, I'm Val's personal assistant. Help him with ideas, review scripts," you squint playfully, lowering your tone, "keep him company at night. It's a lot of work, really, I barely catch a blink of sleep, if you know what I mean." It's cheesey as all hell, but all scripts must be adjusted to the likes of the audience.

She laughs forcefully. "Funny, I haven't heard anything about you." Obviously, Val has to make every new bitch think they're the cream of the crop, he wouldn't be boasting around that the position is taken.

Speak of the Devil, Val finally reappears. He hands the actress the glass, and you don't comment on the ever so slight pink hue of the alcohol. It's on her to accept a drink from a pimp.

Val looks at you. "Oh, you two met? Say, what do you think? She's a natural, isn't she?" You've heard that tone before, the drawn out words, the fake smile and the ever so slight squint of his eyes.

"Yeah. You've gotten yourself a catch."

The woman smiles, her perfect teeth contasting with her lipstick. She sips on her cocktail, completely oblivious that in five minutes she won't be able to think straight. "Thanks for the drink."

"Only the best for my future stars." If he doesn't stop soon this woman's ego is going to get bigger than Vox's, which says a lot. "I have so many plans for you, just you wait."

With how behind schedule they are this movie better break some records to compensate. The opening section taking the entire morning was entirely on her.

"Speaking of plans," Val continues, "we should go out tonight, to celebrate your debut. There's this new restaurant I've been meaning to visit. You can come to my room after the shooting to freshen up."

The actress squeaks. Literally squeaks like a dog chew toy. You mentally scream. Val hasn't taken you on a date in a long while because he's so busy. But he has time for her?! She's already signed the contract, no need being this extra. "Yeah– yes, of course, Val! I'll be flattered!"

"And when are we going on a date?" You throw in, phrasing it as a joke as best as you can through the agitation.

"No one is talking to you, darling," the actress scoffs. Sheesh, high school bully much?

You're left speechless. You glance at Valentino, then at the new whore, then back at him, expecting some sort of reaction. Val has killed for less disrespect towards you before, what the hell?!

"Good," Val coos, as if he hasn't heard anything. "Wait." He grabs her chin. "Your lipstick is smudged."

She gasps dramatically. "Where, I didn't–" she's pulled into a kiss before she can finish the sentence. And, you stare. Val gives kisses sparingly, he has to keep some things actually intimate after all, so the gesture feels extra special. You blink, dumbfounded as they exchange tongues and spit. You haven't seen him kiss anyone, besides you and Vox, in ages. What the actual fuck has gotten into him?!

"There," Val says innocently when he pulls back, caressing her face. "Better get that fix it." He stands up and shouts for the makeup artist.

She nods and skips, fucking skips to the dressing rooms.

Once out of sight, Valentino stares you dead in the eyes, fake smile dropping. "What's with that look on your face?"

"Nothing?"

"You think I'm blind?!" He snaps. Well, he would be considered legally blind, but you aren't stupid enough to voice that out.

"No– no, just, I don't know what you're talking about."

Val nods slowly. "Mm-hmm, you're not looking at her like you're about to drag her by the hair through the entire floor."

"I'm not–" you say sharply. Val just grabs you by the arm and pulls you to one of the empty dressing rooms. The door shuts with a bang behind you, the giant mirror rattling as you're thrown onto the floor.

Val stares you down, expression neutral, which is his equivalent of 'five seconds away from tearing someone apart'. "Stand up," he commands, voice leveled.

You scramble to your feet, fighting every instinct not to curl in to yourself. It will do you no good. Your gaze stays locked to the ground.

"My eyes are up here, amorcito."

You bring your head up to look at him, clenching your fists by your sides.

"Now," he says slowly, "let's try this again. What is your problem?"

"Nothing!"

He cups your cheek. "I can't let you run your mouth in public. You sit, you smile, you look pretty. That's your job. So, pray tell," claws dig dangerously close to your eye, "what has gotten into you today?"

"I–" you try to take a deep breath to calm down, "I– it's nothing, really, I swear!"

He bends down, squinting at you like he's trying to read your thoughts. You gulp, heart racing, not daring to even blink.

You don't know what's the right answer he expects, and knowing him, anything you say could be turned against you if he's in the mood to take his anger out. You settle on the safest option, "I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking, it won't happen again."

He tilts his head, frowning. "But you did nothing wrong, why are you apologizing?" His tone drips like honey, thick and slow and overly sweet.

You swallow the dryness in your throat. "I– I shouldn't have said anything, and, I shouldn't have looked at her like that. It won't happen again."

He clicks his tongue, and that's the moment you realize you're absolutely screwed. He chuckles under his breath. "Are you... are you jealous?" He grins, satisfied like you've been caught right in the act. "Bebita can't handle the attention being on someone else?"

"I, um..."

"It's an easy question, 'yes' or 'no'?" He coos softly, and it just makes your head spiral with fear further.

You take in a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself. "No– no, it's not like that!"

Valentino's gentle expression melts away. "You can't lie for shit," he says, stone cold.

You can, it's part of your job, but not to him. Never him. He knows your tells better than even yourself. Apologizing would just dig your grave deeper. You clench your jaw in some attempt to stop yourself from trembling. Today just isn't a productive day, and now that frustration will be let out on you, nothing can get you out of the situation. You just have to take it.

He waits for a response for what feels like eternity, one of the longest five seconds of your afterlife. He then straightens himself to his full height, glances around the room, then turns his back on you.

"Step up," he orders, low and measured, as he nods towards the makeup chair set in front of the vanity.

You wordlessly obey, your legs shaking as you balance yourself to stand straight and not topple over.

Even with the added height, the top of your head doesn't quite reach up to his chest. He stalks behind you, slowly, gracefully, sizing up both of your reflections. He leans against your back, almost enough to rest his chin on your shoulder, his wings fully open to frame you in. Your cheeks get gripped harshly, but not as harshy as he could, just enough to keep your head in place. The force causes your lips to pucker up ever so slightly.

Your eyes meet their reflexion, the fright evident in them, the tension in your shouders just as visible.

"You think she's prettier than you, is that it?" A palm settles on your lower stomach, goes up slowly underneath your shirt, purposefully lifting the fabric up, the cold air pricking the exposed skin. "You think I would settle for anything but the best?"

You shake your head as much as you can, sucking in air as he gropes your chest. "No, of course not," you manage to get out so quickly it's barely intelligible.

He hums to himself, another hand snaking down your pants, beneath the band of your panties. "Maybe that– oh! Would you look at that!"

Your breathing hitched as two fingers caress you, gathering up the wetness and bringing it up in one smooth stroke. You could lie to yourself all you want, that it's the smoke permanently soaked into the walls of the studio, that Valentino has long conditioned into you that fear and arousal are things that go together, that the shear proximity of him promises pleasure, but at the end of the day there's no excuse as to why you're even slightly turned on.

"Don't tell me you're actually enjoying this," he mocks as he sinks his fingers into you, claws just a threat of pain but oh so careful not to actually harm. He angles the heel of his hand just right against your clit.

Your knees buckle, your whole body jerks and you pitifully try to brace yourself on the vanity to keep your balance.

There's no time for that, Valentino lays his palm flat on your sternum and pushes you back. "You lean on me," he says sharply, before his voice softens, "there, there, I've got you."

You blink quickly, vision unfocused.

"You think she sounds hotter than you, maybe? Mind giving a demonstration?" He angles his fingers up with precision, claws glazing you just enough to make themselves known, and you whimper, no pretence or exaggeration. The pitch of your voice makes your cheeks heat up, only half in embarrassment.

He kisses your jaw, lingers there for a moment. You can feel the smug expression against your skin. "Perfect. And again." He repeats the motion, harder, and your whine goes up in volume.

At last, he leans his head against your shoulder, captures your gaze in the reflection. "And pray tell, would I be getting any whore off while running behind schedule?"

"No," you breathe out. "No–" you cut yourself off with a whine.

"Good. And what do we say when someone is doing something nice for us?"

"Thank you," you suck in air. "Thank you, thank you– Val–"

He brings your face up, squeezing your cheeks enough for his claws to leave indents. "Remember that only I get to see you like this. Only I get to make you feel good."

You try to nod, your breathing quick and shallow. You don't get the time to ask for permission before you cum, sharp and sudden. He doesn't let you ride it out, his pace doesn't falter until you're shaking so much you actually worry about toppling over. Luckily, he pulls back, letting you catch your breath.

He turns your head to look at you properly, studying your expression. "There. Now, are you going to calm down?"

You force yourself to reply. "Yes, yes, I'll be good."

He croons, caressing your cheek. "Was that so hard? Seriously, comparing yourself to that whore? Please." He nods to something in the back, you follow with your eyes, catching a glimpse of the blue camera in the corner, nothing how Val's wings are fully shielding you from its view. "She gets to be drooled over by the entire Ring. You are for my eyes only, got it?"

You nod hastily.

He offers a hand to help you get down from the chair, which you take without hesitation. "Be nice, I'm taking you somewhere on Sunday if you behave."

"I will, promise."

"Let's get back to this mess." He throws one last glance at you. "Chin up, bebita. You aren't a whore, fucking act like you actually belong next to me."

You grin and you don't care how ridiculously you look. "Yes, Val."

He walks out first, or rather, stomps, back to his agitated director self. "Is the replacement here already?! We're behind, pronto!"

The actress is sitting straight on the floor, swaying. You walk past her on purpose, give her a wink. "Come on, darling. Don't just sit there, you have a job to do!"

[golbrocklovely]

complicated // colby brock (pt. 2)

A/N: hilariously when i first drafted this, i was gonna make it a lot meaner/hate fucking like, with a lot of jealousy thrown in. but damnit, bridgerton has foiled my plans again and has really turned me into a lover lol so i made this a little bit softer than originally planned. hope yall like it regardless, and please let me know what you think :) see yall with another fic real soon !

prompt: time has passed since you and sam hooked up, and all seems well. except now… colby is upset with you for some unknown reason. || fem!reader x colby brock

trigger warning: SMUT, angst, jealous!colby, possessive!colby, he's still really sweet tho, you guys were out clubbing so... tipsy/drunk sex, mentions of: baby, good girl, darling, cursing, quasi-public sex, could almost get caught, lots of teasing (both sexually and non), mentions of colby having seen you and sam hooking up, sweet ending :)

word count: 3066

~~~~~~~

The morning after Sam and I had sex was awkward to say the least.

We both ignored each other, which was easy since Sam and Colby had many calls and business related things to do. And I, being their assistant, had my own tasks at hand for the following week to start.

But when Sam and I were finally able to sit down and talk about it, it went surprisingly well.

We came to two very important conclusions: one, while we had fun, we weren’t going to ever do it again. We cared too much about our friendship to let sex ruin it. Plus the spark really had only been there that night.

And two, we were to never tell Colby.

Everything seemed good for a while. Life got back into the swing of things; Sam and Colby were traveling, I was handling the business side while they were gone. Normal, boring life occurred.

But all the while, I had this strange feeling. Maybe it was due to the fact that Colby had grown cold towards me, almost standoffish. He sometimes would keep to himself, that wasn't unusual; but his demeanor around me became stiff, almost like he was upset at me.

I wanted to confront him, ask him what was wrong, but it never felt like the right time. When the right time finally did come, it was during a couple days stretch where the boys had off. One night when we went out and both came home empty handed, I decided to finally ask him.

His answer was not at all what I was expecting, but in a way it was the one I wanted to hear all along.

I wanted the truth and now I was finally getting it.

~~~~~~

“No way. I cannot believe you used to run away from cops for a living.” Nicole, Sam’s new… friend, said as we walked into Sam and Colby’s house.

A playful look rested on Sam’s face as he nodded. “Yeah, and we did it pretty well.”

“Up until you got arrested.” I chimed in, smirking.

She gasped. “Oh my God, you got arrested? For what?”

“Breaking and entering. And fake ids.” Colby explained.

“Woah woah, the fake ids were just a you charge, Colby.” Sam replied defensively.

“And that was the first and last time Sam and Colby were separated ever again.” I quipped.

Colby turned to look at Sam, a faux-pained expression on his face. “I just can't quit you.”

“Me neither, brother.” Sam sniffled, pretending to hold back tears. The both placed hands on each others' shoulders, giving a tight squeeze.

Nicole glanced back and forth at Sam, Colby, and me, amused. “You guys are so funny. I have been having such a blast all night.”

“I'm happy to entertain you for as long as you'd like.” Sam lowered his voice to an almost sultry tone, moving to her side.

She bit her lip, looking into his eyes. “Maybe you could do that alone? Upstairs, perhaps?"

Sam gave a cheeky look at me and Colby, "I'll see you guys later."

Nicole giggled as she pulled Sam up the stairs, Sam following suit as he whispered something to her and snickered. I peered over at Colby, waiting for Sam's door to shut before speaking. "Well, she seems nice."

“Yeah she's sweet.” Colby agreed, pulling out his phone. He began to walk to the kitchen, and I followed him.

“So... what do you plan to do the rest of the night?” I asked.

He mumbled. “Might order some postmates, then call it a night.”

“Exciting.” I deadpanned, slightly annoyed at him. I changed the subject, thinking that was the cause, “That new club we went to was a lot of fun. The live music was so cool to hear.”

“Yeah it was.” Colby didn't look up, continuing to scroll through his phone.

I sighed, exhausted. “You know, you've been acting this way all night with me.”

“Like what?” He exhaled, finally looking up.

“Short. To the point.” I stated.

He shrugged. “I don't feel like being social.”

I scrunched my face at him, “It was your idea to go out tonight.”

“My social battery ran out really fast then.” Colby blinked, frowning.

“It's not just tonight though. You've been like this for over a week at this point. I thought maybe it was because of work, but....” I trailed off, unsure.

He pursed his lips, “What?”

“You're icing me out. What did I do?” I questioned, stepping towards him.

He moved back, shaking his head. “I don't want to talk about this.”

I followed him. “Well I do. So talk.”

“Okay, if you really want to talk…” He rubbed his eyes for a moment, finally speaking. “Do you have something to tell me?”

My heart stopped. “What?”

He repeated, his eyes icy. “Do you have something to tell me?”

I sucked my teeth, knowing exactly what Colby was referring to. “...I'm gonna kill Sam.”

He chuckled darkly, “Oh, no no. Don't get pissed at the guy that told me what happened.”

I huffed, “We promised each other not to tell you.”

“He folded real quick on that.” Colby crossed his arms, leaning against the counter.

I stared up at him, puzzled. “When did he tell you?”

“A couple days after it happened.” He informed.

I groaned, spinning to yell towards the stairs, “He really went behind my back and just flat out told you. What the fuck, Sam?!”

“Why didn't you tell me?” Colby argued.

I turned back, “Oh, c'mon Colby. You know why.”

“No please, do tell. I would love to hear why.” He jeered.

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my composure. “Do you think I want to tell one of my best friends 'hey just so you know, me and your other best friend, who is also my friend, fucked'? Of course not!”

“Why? You shouldn't feel uncomfortable doing that. Since you did it so publicly, in this very room, might I add.” He shot back.

My eyes widened for a second. “He told you we fucked in the kitchen?”

“No. He's too nice for that.” Colby stepped towards me, almost looming over me. “Do you remember a couple months back when we thought someone was trying to break into the house, so we got extra security cameras installed?”

I crossed my arms defensively, “What does that have to do with this?”

“We didn't get the cameras installed just outside the house. We also got some installed in the common areas. One in the living room....” He leaned down, whispering. “And one in the kitchen.”

“You're kidding.” My breath hitched involuntarily. 

“Any and every movement that happens in these areas gets recorded. When Sam told me you two fucked, I thought he was joking. But I checked…” His voice fell off, an almost smirk coming to his face.

I stuttered, “Y-You-?”

“You really know how to put on a performance.” Colby spoke condescendingly, staring into my eyes with a mischievous glint.

I scoffed, putting space between us. “Fuck you.”

He rolled his eyes, “You wish.”

I glared, exhaling harshly. “You know, you're acting like a jealous boyfriend.”

“Really?” He sassed.

“Yeah. Why the fuck do you care if I slept with Sam? You've never cared about who he hooks up with. But you suddenly care when it's me?" I scowled.

“I care who he hooks up with.” He argued.

I placed my hands on my hips, “Name me literally one girl he's gotten with within the last month or two. Any of them.”

“Nicole is upstairs with him now.” He remarked sarcastically.

I narrowed my gaze, “She doesn't count.”

“Sorry I don't memorize all of their names. I don't need to really remember them since I'm not the one sleeping with them.” Colby bickered, turning away from me.

I thought for a moment, a realization appearing in my mind, “Any time I've almost hooked up with someone, you've always been so aggressive towards them afterwards. But now since it was Sam, you're angry with me.”

“I'm upset because you didn't tell me. Instead, you wanted to keep it a secret from me. That's why I'm pissed.” He rebutted, facing me once more.

“But what's the difference between Sam telling you or me telling you? You've known basically since it happened, why are you still holding it against me?” I sneered, “Unless, of course, you're jealous.”

He queried angrily, “Jealous of what, exactly?”

“You're jealous I didn't sleep with you.” I hissed.

He shook his head, his voice faltering. “Give me a break, Y/N.”

“No no, be honest Colby. Why else are you pissed? You found out a week ago, and have held it against me just because I wasn't the one that told you. You found out regardless, so what is there to be pissed about?” I searched his eyes, but he tilted his head away from my glare. “It's none of your fucking business who I sleep with, whether it's Sam, the guy down the street, or a random guy at the club. You're not my boyfriend. I'm allowed to fuck whoever I want to!”

I spun on my heel, but Colby's hand gripped my wrist, spinning me back to him. My eyes locked with his for a brief moment as he grabbed my face, kissing me deeply. I shuddered a breath, taken aback by how passionate the kiss was. Colby wrapped an arm around me, pulling me against him, as his other hand pulled on my hair lightly.

“You're right, Y/N. I hate how fucking right you always are.” He nipped at my lips, a low groan leaving his mouth. “Do you know how frustrating it is seeing you with other guys? Seeing them put their hands on you, when that's all I can think about doing?”

“Colby!” I gasped quietly, our mouths meeting again. He pressed me against the counter, the spot feeling eerily similar on my back.

Was this the same spot as-?

“I shouldn't have been a dick to you, I'm sorry. But I will never apologize for wanting you all to myself.” His voice came out in an almost growl, “I want you to be mine, and mine alone.”

My mouth fumbled over my words, my hands gliding up his back. “W-Why didn't you just say that? Why now?”

“Seeing you fuck Sam in here weirdly was the wake up call I needed,” he chuckled bitterly. “I thought that maybe all this time I was just overly protective but no... I am jealous. I don’t want to see you with anyone else ever again.”

Colby's hand lifted up my leg, wrapping it around his waist. He slowly inched his fingers higher and higher until he was under my dress, tickling the lining of my underwear. “Let me show you how badly I want you. Please.”

My knees almost buckled at the sound of his voice. The desperation. I nodded, unable to form words, and his hand slowly slid up more until he pressed his palm against my sex. I squeaked unintentionally, a smirk coming to his face. He rubbed slow circles into my clit, my back arching instantly.

“You're already soaking through your panties... Fuck me.” He grunted.

I bit my lip, “Seeing you jealous is honestly kind of a turn on.”

He raised an eyebrow, “Oh really? You like making me jealous? You like me being possessive of you?”

“I like hearing you admit you like me, so if that does the trick…” I trailed off, teasingly.

He pressed harder into my clit, a moan ripping through me when he did. He moved his mouth down, sucking on my neck in time with his movements.

My hands snaked down his torso, touching every muscle on my way to his belt. I clutched the buckle, loosening his belt from his pants. I slipped my hand inside, cupping his growing bulge. He gasped, grinding his cock into my hand.

He closed his eyes tightly, “Fuck baby, that feels so good.”

My cunt clenched at the sound of his voice, needing him deeply. “Please Colby. Fuck, I want you so badly.”

“I need you too, Y/N.” Colby exhaled harshly, “Spin around for me.”

I glanced at him for a moment, shocked by the hunger in his eyes. I turned around, placing my hands on the counter. The cool surface felt like ice against my hot skin, the hairs on my arms standing on end. I heard a package ripping, Colby sliding a condom on that he grabbed from his wallet. Suddenly his hands were on me, pulling the skirt of my dress up until it rested above my ass. He rolled my panties down, his hands massaging my thighs on their way back up.

“You ready for me?” His voice dripped with an aching need: me.

I breathlessly sighed, “Yes, please.”

He pushed my legs open, the tip of his cock teasing my entrance. I mewled at the feeling, backing my hips up until my ass hit his crotch. He groaned, his one hand gripping my hip while the other rested on my back.

Slowly he glided his cock inside of me, both of us holding our breaths as he did. I stretched around him, his size bigger than what I was used to. He filled me up more and more, my eyes fluttering in ecstasy. His body relaxed against mine once he was all the way in, a shuddering 'fuck' falling from his lips.

“Move, Colby. God, please!” I begged.

His hand moved around me to cover my mouth jokingly. "Shh, you can't be too loud. Don't want Sam and his girl to know what we're doing."

I rolled my eyes, knowing that they were lost in their own world and would give no shits about us fucking in here. Colby smirked against my skin, kissing and nibbling my neck and shoulders. His hand drifted back, running through my hair, tugging lightly. His hips began to move in low thrusts. I bit my lip to not moan loudly, but it was so hard. He felt like heaven, and way better than all of my dreams had imagined.

“God, you feel amazing, Y/N.” Colby whispered lightly, “So wet for me.”

I gripped the counter, holding myself into place as he bucked into me. I moved my hips in time with his, meeting him with each thrust.

His hands cupped my hips, his thumbs rubbing circles into them. “You are fucking gorgeous, baby.”

I hummed a moan, my head lulling back. Colby's hand collided with my ass quickly, slapping it. I let out a small shriek, surprised by the impact.

“Colby!” I giggled, looking over my shoulder at him.

He grinned, his dimples appearing briefly. “Can't help it. Wanted to do that for so long.”

“Really? So you've been staring at my ass all this time?” I questioned.

“Oh yeah. Every chance I get.” He raised his eyebrows smugly.

“Perv.” I joked.

Colby laughed, sliding all the way inside of me and stopping. He pressed me against the counter, his hand drifting down and rubbing my clit. “And you're just like me.”

My eyes almost rolled back into my head from the pleasure. “H-how?”

“You're letting me fuck you right in the same spot Sam fucked you in. They could come down any minute and catch us. You want that to happen, don't you?” He grunted, his voice sounding like pure sex.

His fingers on my clit made it hard to think, let alone respond. I stuttered out a curse. His lips were against my ear, “You're mine from now on, you hear me? No one will ever touch you like this again besides me. Say it. Say you're mine.”

“I-I'm yours.” I whimpered.

“Again.” His hips started back up, fucking me harder against the counter than ever before.

“'M yours.” I slurred, my orgasm growing closer and closer.

He slapped my ass again, “Tell me one more time, darling.” 

“I'm yours! Fuck Colby, I'm yours!” I exclaimed, unable to hold back.

“That's my good girl! Fuck yourself on my cock. Do it.” Colby demanded.

I bounced on his dick, his fingers still rubbing my clit over and over again. I was panting, unable to hold back any noises that escaped my throat. My hand slid down to his hand on my clit, pressing him more into me. I gripped his wrist, my nails digging in.

“You close baby? You gonna fucking come for me?” He cursed, his thrusts picking up speed.

I cried out, “Pleaseeee Colbyyy, I wanna come!”

His other hand wrapped around my throat, lightly squeezing for a second. He taunted, “Shhh, you can't scream, Y/N. Even though I know you want to."

Colby pounded into me harder, guttural moans and the sounds of our skin slapping together filling the room.

His voice was hoarse, hungry. “I'm close, darling. Ffffuck you feel so good!”

I desperately whined back, white knuckling the counter as my high grew near. "I'm gonna fucking-!"

“That's it, Y/N. Come for me. Soak my cock and come!” Colby thundered.

My body exploded into an orgasm, my vision blurring. I cried out in ecstasy and pleasure, my hips bucking helplessly around his cock. Colby picked up his pace, thrusting into me passionately. His husky groans echoed in my ear as he came. His hands dug into my skin, his fingers curved as he rubbed my clit through my orgasm. I shook against him, my body finally relaxing against the counter as my pleasure subsided a minute later.

He rested his forehead against my back, spreading lazy kisses and licks across my shoulders and neck. I smiled, catching my breath slowly. His hands moved, softly caressing my skin as he stood up. He picked me up off the counter, spinning me back to face him. Resting me back against it, his body still against mine. His eyes scanned my face, taking in every detail.

“Hi.” He whispered sweetly.

I grinned, “Hi.”

“You okay?” He asked, lightly brushing my hair out of my face.

“Never better. You?” I giggled.

“I'm great.” Colby pecked my lips, pausing briefly. “I wasn't kidding when I said all of that, you know."

"I believe you." I breathed.

"So... you're still mine, right?” He murmured.

“Of course." I lowered my gaze bashfully, "And you're mine?”

He nudged my face up, our eyes locking. “Absolutely.”

<< part one ||

[shimmerwindow]

I Never Really

Part Eleven

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: None!

Playlist | Masterlist

Tag list: @jazzyfigz @dont-go-home-without-me @poochiesworld @stardustcatcher @83rkblogs @jaketsguitar @dannys-dream @gretavanfan @do-it-jakey-baby @gvfpal @ignite-my-fire @gardensgatekeeper

Thanksgiving break had arrived, a welcome reprieve from the constant stress of classes. Everything had been ramping up lately on the climb to finals season, as your mental health had started to dwindle. Your world was crumbling, piece by piece, and you were desperately trying to get all those pieces back into place as the weight of life held you down. You hoped that finally getting some time alone would be helpful.

Loneliness had always been your closest friend, though it felt harder to cope with now that you’d gotten a taste of actual friendship. It had been tainted with love and lust, but it was friendship nonetheless, and you missed it dearly. This time of year in particular was always difficult. You could never afford the holiday travel cost to get back home, so you’d always just stay in the dorms, alone.

It was harder now, watching your fellow classmates in the hallways. Some looked ecstatic, smiles gracing their faces as they held their phones to their ears with one hand, the other hooked around the handle of a suitcase. Others looked exhausted, dark circles under their eyes as they shuffled their tired feet down the hall.

Being here with so few others had its perks. The showers were much cleaner, and on a few lucky occasions, you were the only person in the room. You kept yourself busy, finally cleaning the garbage heap that was once your dorm, and putting the finishing touches on your projects that would be due in the coming weeks. Through it all, though, a lingering feeling of sadness loomed over you like a dark cloud.

It was only the third day of the week-long respite, and you couldn’t take the feeling anymore. You drafted a text. One to Sam. Your last correspondence had been weeks ago, now, and something in your heart ached when you saw the date next to the messages. We don’t talk anymore, you thought, and that was the loneliest feeling in the world, for so many reasons.

hey, wondering if you and the guys are around/busy? bored and stuck in the dorms lol

You hadn’t even managed to close the app before you saw the tiny text of read appear under your message. It was almost instant.

back home for the week! maybe we can hang when we’re back? hope you've been well

You didn’t bother replying. What was the use, with all the unspoken words behind every sentence? You gave his message a heart, and put your phone back in your lap.

This was a situation you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy. You tried to think of how far back you would go if given the chance. If you knew then what you knew now, would you never go up to the roof that night? Maybe you’d quit smoking altogether. You barely smoked these days, only when you were particularly stressed. The smell reminded you too much of him. As did everything else, in all honesty.

The light was quickly disappearing from the sky, stormy clouds obscuring the rising moon. Maybe a walk would ease your nerves. You shrugged on your coat and slipped your feet into your shoes, heading out into the chilly air. You hated Sam for so many things now, so many things that were not his fault. You could no longer take your favorite path down the least-traveled side of campus, not since you spotted his car there.

Your mind began to unravel in the solitude. Campus was empty, with a dead air to it that made you the slightest bit uncomfortable. Normally, a lack of people would be everything you’d hoped for, but it was no longer comforting to you.

An array of paths sprawled out in front of you in your mind. There seemed to be no way forward given your current position. You’d tried to take the advice of Josh and Jake and talk to Sam, but you couldn't find the words. Everything you wanted to say just felt wrong when you would practice it in the mirror. And, on top of that, you weren't sure if you would be able to hold your composure when he actually gave you a response. Would you be able to keep a poker face if he told you he was dating this girl? You had no idea, and didn’t feel like finding out the hard way.

Visions of Sam danced in front of your eyes as your feet naturally quickened their pace. You didn’t have time for this. There was already enough weighing on your mind, the added stress of all this was too much. You feared that you’d made a terrible mistake, choosing to sleep with Jake. It was an action that had been deliberately calculated to sever your tie with Sam, whether you wanted to admit it to yourself or not. You’d told Jake he was not part of a revenge scheme, but that had been a lie, you now realized.

You said it wasn’t about Sam. But it had always been about him. Everything you did revolved around Sam. He was now the center of your world. This was more than a crush. You started walking faster. This was more than just finding him cute. You started jogging. This was more than wanting to be close friends with him. You started sprinting across the grass, your shoes leaving trails in the damp grass.

You couldn’t outrun him. You couldn’t the last time you’d been here, running across campus, trying to get away from him, hoping you could exhaust yourself out of being able to think. It wasn’t possible, not anymore. As you collapsed into the grass under a tree, your head spun, every word Sam had ever said to you running through your mind all at once, his image brighter in your mind than ever before.

The last of the leaves shuddered off the tree one by one in the light breeze. The dying grass tickled the palms of your hands when you laid them flat on the ground, your chest heaving. Tears ran down the sides of your face and all of this felt all too familiar. You hadn’t been able to say it back then, but you couldn’t hide from it anymore.

You loved him. You were deeply, desperately, unshakably in love with Sam.

The first flakes of snow began to fall. Delicately, small white flakes drifted down to you, landing on your blazing cheeks and collecting in your hair. Winter was here. Just as you decided to stop lying to yourself. Soon, the semester would end. You would be alone once again. You wouldn’t see Sam every morning, and you could free yourself of his constant influence. It was all so indescribably perfect and terrible, every feeling you had about him so painfully unresolved.

For the first time, you allowed yourself to dream. To fantasize about him in the ways you had always repressed so deeply. The calluses on his fingers, would they be rough against the soft skin of your cheek? What would it feel like to have your lips against his neck, your fingers running through his hair? It hurt so beautifully to let all of it in, two months of emotions washing over you all at once in a bittersweet haze.

Jake had meant nothing, when you got right down to it. But you’d put yourself in a precarious situation, now. Social dynamics you didn’t quite understand swirled in your head, confusing you, you couldn’t even remember all the details at this point. All you knew was that you’d taken what was offered, at the cost of losing what you needed most. Above all, you were scared. Nothing would be the same now, and you'd ruined something that could have been so beautiful – you were sure of it.

* * *

In some ways, it was nice to finally say it out loud. The rest of Thanksgiving break passed by like molasses, each day dragging on longer than the next. You’d done nothing but wallow in the agony of unrequited love, but it was somewhat easier now that you could say it. Love. When the semester resumed, you put on a brave face in front of Sam, though you were sure it was written all over you. There was no real use hiding it anymore. If he didn’t know then, he knew now, in the way you stared at him at the end of every class.

It was the final week of your regular schedule, and you felt a kind of nostalgia walking into the lecture hall for the last time. It would be a work day, the professor announced.

“Well!” Sam said, stretching his arms above his head and turning to you. “I think we’ve got this in the bag.”

Indeed, you did. The two of you had worked rather seamlessly together, more than you’d expected. “Yeah, I think it’s done.”

“Wanna turn it in together?” He gave you that smile, the one you had every inch of memorized.

“I think we only need to submit it once. You can do it, if you want.”

“No, together!” He pulled up the submission screen and added the finished file, neatly titled with your full names. Seeing them next to each other like that was strangely jarring. Before you could protest, he snatched your hand off the desk in front of you and brought it over to the mouse on his laptop. That warm, rough hand stayed on top of yours, pushing your fingers down to click the mouse button once.

And just like that, it was over. The class that had originally drawn the two of you together was done, it was all over. Nothing tethered you to him anymore but the fraying social ties you’d so carefully neglected. Pondering it for too long made you feel tears threatening to well up in the corners of your eyes.

“Finally done.” His voice broke you from your reverie, his hand sliding off of yours. “You wanna come over some time soon?”

You didn’t want to. You weren’t sure you could ever be alone in a room with Sam ever again. You recalled the words of his brothers, though. You needed to talk to him. Even if it was only to find closure, to be given the opportunity to truly cut him out of your life without guilt. “Sure, if I’ve got time. Finals, y’know.”

“Oh, don’t I know it,” he chuckled. “I’m in the same boat. And I have to move all my shit back to the house, too.”

He did look much more exhausted than usual. Those eyes, that already had an air of tired behind them, seemed heavy. Dark circles adorned the spaces below them. His hair was pulled back, and had lost some of its usual luster.

“Maybe once I’m done with everything I’ll text you." Maybe.

He looked at you, and closed his laptop with a finger. “Sweet. I’ve been missing you.”

“Really?” The word slipped out in shock.

“Of course. What’s a sky without the sun and moon?” He gave you a little shove and a grin. Unbearably endearing, to the point you almost felt embarrassment over it.

“Will you ever stop being so cheesy?”

“Don’t think it’s physically possible, actually.”

“So you’re not staying in your dorm?” You asked.

“No, isn’t the place closed during break?” He looked at you, confused. "You're staying there, though, I'm guessing?"

You nodded. “Normally, yeah. They let some people stay over the break. Like, international students, or people who can’t go home.”

“Can’t…go home?” He looked at you like he was treading on very treacherous ground.

You waved a hand at him, giving a sheepish grin. “Oh, it's not like that. My parents are just really far away. And they downsized recently, so I don’t have a room there anymore. It’s smarter for me to just stay here.”

“Oh, right, right.” He propped his elbow on the desk, resting his cheek against his palm. He looked utterly captivated by even dull talk. “Seems like it would get lonely in there this time of year.”

“Doesn’t bug me much. You get used to it.”

“Probably nice to finally have some peace and quiet, huh?”

“Oh, god, yes.”

“Hoping I’ll finally get some of that at the house. The guy in the room next to me, I don’t think he's spent a single night alone the whole semester. Loud as fuck, too.”

You laughed at that, immediately picking up what he was laying down. “God, that sounds obnoxious.”

“I’m worried it won’t be much better at the house. It never is.”

There was something behind his eyes when he said that, something that made your palms start to sweat and your eyes take in a bit more light. Fear, regret, something in the middle of the two. All that ran through your mind was thoughts of Jake, how you would have to stop. You’d need to quit all of them, that entire family.

“Anyway,” he cleared his throat and spoke over your silence. “I’m gonna run, if we’re done here.”

You nodded, suddenly struck by the feeling that you might cry at any moment. “Sounds good. I’ve got some shit to do, anyway.”

The two of you parted ways, and you were both burdened and light as a feather as you headed to the library to kill time before your next class. You didn’t have anything to do, in reality, but you needed time to center yourself.

Walking into the library did you no favors. You could see the quiet corner where you and Sam had sat together; that was months ago now. You sat as far away from that spot as you could, but your eyes lingered on it. If you could go back to that moment, would you change a thing? Would you have given up the blissful joy of being in love to avoid the way you now felt shattered to pieces?

A small part of you thought that, perhaps, it had all been worth it. Just to know him, during this time, had been enough. Maybe in your next life, you would meet him again, and he would point out the stars to you with his arm draped around your shoulder while you wore his sweater. The one you loved, the one that complimented his eyes. Maybe it would look just as good on you.

[teriwrites]

Beneath Alder Creek: Part 1

My Live Reactions to Reading Through My 2020 Novel

A bunch of these actually have chapter titles, and I'm not going to make a post header be like three lines long, so I'll just list them as we go!

Chp. 1: A Town in Mourning

'They were going to bury an empty casket at little Bran Pewitt's funeral.' honestly??? still one of my favorite opening lines I've ever written

He's been snatched up by the fae, without leaving so much as a button rip

The way that, stylistically, I was being So influenced by like Anne of Green Gables in some of this lol

Like, not seeing our main character in the opening chapter

'The twentieth century was still very much in its infancy, and already, it was proving to be dangerously hedonistic, thought Mrs. Bivin.' like that sentence came straight out of Rachel Lynde's mouth

Also a fun fact about that, this story takes place in a specific year in my head, but I don't think I've ever revealed exactly which year, bc I want it to be at least somewhat vague

"I'm doing very well, thank you," she replied curtly. "I only wish I could say the same of the Pewitts. I've just been to the store, and, bless them, it's quite the sight." As much as the ladies of Mrs. Bivin's knitting circle loved to feign disinterest in the town's affairs, the sudden creaking of chairs betrayed their attention.' (i love writing a lil old lady gossip circle)

Mrs. Bivin playing coy with her piece of news as she settles down to knit, and everyone's like 'bitch.... if you don't tell us what's going on!!'

"Well, I just arrived from Pewitt's General, and certainly there was young Winifred, insisting that if anyone in this town were to show some courage, her brother might yet be saved," she said guardedly, as though she expected the discretion of her knitting circle.' i kinda love that the first we hear of Winnie is her being an outspoken nuisance to the townspeople

One of these women in the knitting circle is Not a Winnie fan

"It's a shame, about Bran," Mrs. Gower's voice was low, barely audible over the sound of the needles. The others paused to listen. "It had been so long since the last disappearance. I had hoped they might've finally been satisfied." "There's no satiation for the fair folk," said widowed Mrs. Keelan. She was the oldest of the group, by far, and spoke with the grim weariness of experience. "And as for young Winifred, she'll learn to accept it. We all do, eventually. There's no need to force the grieving process before it's ready." Silence fell once more over the room.' (so in the second draft, I've cut out any perspective from the townsfolk themselves and stuck only to Winnie, but this is making me realize I actually kinda like allowing them to establish their own relation to the fae, especially since Winnie's approach is so unique)

This town is horrible lmao they're spreading gossip about the Pewitts like wildfire. Like, guys, their 9-year-old son just essentially got fucking murked, maybe hold off on the chatter

Lmao I forgot this story was originally supposed to be set in Wales

The Englishman that everybody hates being so excited to have a piece of actual interesting news and then getting absolutely no reaction out of the one person he tells is incredible

That's what you get for telling Leslie Hughes (derogatory)

(There's nothing wrong with Leslie, I actually like him, he's just kinda a loser (affectionate))

"I can't imagine where you lot picked up this notion of fairies in the woods. That boy ran away, clear as anything, and the whole town is acting like he's a martyr. I tell you, he'll turn up at his own funeral and make a grand spectacle of it." not this Englishman comparing Bran to Tom Sawyer

Mrs. Pewitt wants a sigil engraved into the tombstone, and Englishman is Very unhappy with the idea

Chapter 2: A Mother in Mourning

I forgot how much attention I gave to Elain (Winnie and Bran's mother) in this draft

'Mrs. Elain Pewitt was said to be one of the highest regarded housewives in the region, and even if the title were hyperbolic, it was not for lack of trying.' i wonder where Winnie gets her drive from

After publicly calling people out, apparently Winnie argued with her mom and accused her of caring more about the town's opinions than Bran and stormed off, yikes

'Elain had been born into a world of grief and fear, in the early days following a young girl's disappearance. It was the third time, she would later learn, that a child had been taken within the decade. Her childhood was littered with warnings and memories of her own parents' intense fears for their child.' this has gotten very heavy very quickly

'The fear of the fae had been instilled in Elain from a very young age. She did not understand their ways, but she had learned enough to know well the signs of her son's disappearance. Everything - from his fair curls that the fae so often coveted, to the ravens that had begun circling the edge of town - spoke to their involvement. Winnie was still too young to understand the finality of these.' the problem is, i love Elain so deeply, but i truly cannot justify delving too deeply into her character when she's only present in the beginning of the story

Like the Pewitt family has so much lore that simply cannot fit onto the page and it's tragic

Mr. Pewitt does not have the composure of his wife

That man is Weeping

'He was barely a step through the door before he pitched forwards, barely managing to catch himself on the credenza before breaking into a loud sob.' OKAY

I spent SO LONG trying to find the word 'credenza'

And I specifically could remember having heard the word in 'Living with Yourself', that one show with Paul Rudd about him being kinda replaced with his clone, ANYWAYS, I specifically remembered him referencing their credenza

And I legitimately went back into that show to find the word because I truly could not figure it out

Anyways,

Mr. Pewitt needs to get it together bc Mrs. Pewitt is holding down the fort rn and she's also grieving

Chapter 3: A Sister in Mourning

Here she is folks!

'Winnie woke on the morning of her brother's funeral with a wave of anger that washed over any solemnity she ought have been feeling.' remember that post about writing more angry/mean/asshole female protagonists? I'm doing us all a service

It's a gloomy morning before the service, because obviously it has to be

'The small surface [of her vanity] had given way its function to acting as a makeshift desk, littered with papers and writing tools. Propped up, blocking off the lower half of the mirror was a line of books that covered a variety of subjects. Most were worn through, stained, with pages torn or wrinkled from use.' i forgot that i made Winnie a NERD in this draft

Wild how little changes sneak in over the years. Winnie being described specifically as having brown hair in this draft, when now her hair's more like auburn

There's still definitely tension with her mom, but Elain isn't trying to get in her way, just delicately keep her from making a scene - checking that she's gonna wear actual mourning attire, that sorta thing

Winnie's excuse to go investigating around the area where Bran disappeared, rather than waiting a couple hours to leave for the service, is to pick wildflowers that Bran would've liked

The only way she convinces her mom to let her go is to point out that one of the other ladies in town is sure to offer her some of her award-winning roses, and Elain won't stand for her rival showing off at a funeral

Chapter 4: The Raven's Call

It previously rained, so Winnie has to be real careful about navigating in her mourning dress alongside Alder Creek (which is also the northern border of the town)

These woods are a lil weird - Winnie thinks she hears laughter, and she's drawn in further while she knows she should turn back, and then a raven startles up from a branch she grabbed and calls out as it flutters away

Winnie follows the raven because obviously she doesn't listen to How to Not Be Stolen By the Fae 101

'This chasing game lasted all of ten minutes before Winnie began to wonder whether she should turn back. There was no questioning now that she was going to need to hurry if she wanted to snag her shoes from the house. Even then, it would be a close call. As if in response, the raven gave a final caw, flapped its wings, and started off, this time across Alder Creek and soon completely out of sight." (classic mischievous raven)

I've shared parts of this on here before, but that won't stop me from doing it again!

'There was something lying out among the underbrush, just within the tree-line. Winnie took a step forwards, squinting at a small toadstool bursting out of the earth. Another step, and she could make out several others. They popped up from the carpet of fallen pine needles and patches of moss at the base of a tree. There must've been two dozen of them in total, all forming a circular cloister. Winnie's breath hitched. A fairy ring.' (!!!)

She got caught red-handed

By which I mean Leslie Hughes interrupted her before she could fully plunge into the creek with her mourning dress on, like an hour before her brother's funeral

'As they made their way [back], the curiosity was practically radiating from Leslie, but Winnie knew he would never gather the courage to actually ask her about what had brought her to the woods. She refused to indulge him, instead focusing her attention on picking buttercups where she could find them.' honestly, fair

Winnie nearly went to the funeral wearing galoshes

Chapter 5: The Funeral

'Winnie's parents were sitting in the front row, surrounded by family, friends, and acquaintances offering their condolences. They had decided against visitation the night before, a choice that had been intended to gently discourage other townsfolk from overwhelming the family with their chatter. Instead, it had merely held them at bay.' yeah, knowing the town of Bildenbey thus far, I don't think you had much chance of keeping them from talking

Everyone dispersing immediately when Winnie walks up?? Absolutely love that for her, girl's got a Presence

This church is Packed with people for this funeral/memorial

'It should have been an honor, but their eager preying on the social opportunity turned the solemnity into more of a spectacle. As though Bran was some tragic figure and not a missing child.' go off, man

All the references of Heaven and 'dwelling in the house of the Lord' are making Winnie Very uncomfortable, given the whole 'Bran is very probably very much so still alive' situation

And now they've strapped the coffin to a buggy, and they're starting off on their procession to the cemetery

'Stepping out of the chapel, Winnie expected to be faced with the same bright sunlight that had shone as she walked in. Instead, it had disappeared once more behind the clouds, and a bite in the air threatened more rain. It was only appropriate, she thought bitterly, regretting the decision to leave her umbrella in the mudroom.' apt

The longer they walk, the more real everything feels, and the more Winnie is starting to regret how she's been acting

Tbf, based on what we've heard, she's kinda been an ass to literally everyone

But she's also upset at how upset everybody else is, because it feels fake. The Bivins used to scold Bran so harshly he'd run home in tears, and now they're standing near her family, dabbing at their eyes with a handkerchief. That sorta vibe

'Glancing around, Winnie realized that the very adults standing just behind the family in the procession were the very same who criticized Bran the most.' exactly my point, but more succinct lol

Mrs. Keelan offering her some real sympathy and a grim smile, I still think she's my favorite of the old ladies

Winnie's crying thinking about the time she attended a funeral with Bran, and he was as curious as ever, asking half-whispered questions and trying to lean over the open grave to see the coffin aww

"I thought he was meant to go up to the sky," Bran had insisted. "Does this mean he won't be going to Heaven?" It had taken several lessons in theology for Winnie to sort out this particular question.' (lmaooo, it's giving Anne Shirley with Davy Keith)

So many tears

"Don't cry now," Mrs. Pewitt said, wrapping Winnie into a hug. "We'll get through this." "I'm not thinking of us," Winnie managed through a sniffle. "I'm thinking about Bran. He must be so afraid." (🥺)

Ending Thoughts:

I'm gonna be so real, I honestly forgot that I'd be reading through this draft for this project! In my head, BAC is such a current WIP that I was only really tracking the second draft I wrote in 2023/2024, so I mentally skipped over this draft and was prepping to read my 2021 novellas already. But I'm so excited to be reading it! When this whole project is done (and after I take a lil mental break), I'll be diving back into prep for draft 3. And I assumed that this draft would only give me more reminders of what I needed to change for the second draft, but by page 2, it was already providing me with food for thought regarding the opening of this story. Which, to my greatest frustration, has always been the toughest part of this whole novel. Winnie's background is important. Arguably, even more so with where the story is at now than it was during this draft. So including context for this, pointing out the environment she comes from through her neighbors/peers offers insight that Winnie herself starts out by intentionally ignoring. I went on a whole tangent to a friend of mine literally in the middle of reading chapter 1, and I'm sure it'll create a whole flurry of notes when I'm sitting down to work on revisions. But in regards to the story itself, here: I'm just so happy I made Winnie such a bitch <3

[sariel626]

I read your platonic dad Poe fic. Could you do another one where Poe has to run to the office and brings his kid for a few minutes and they meet Fitzgerald for the first time. He tries to keep his little detective quiet lol

AAAAAAA! My first request!!! This is so exciting!!!

Note: Fitzgerald did meet reader under different circumstances in the other Poe work, so we’ll have reader’s memory be foggy of him.

TW: possible OOC characters

———————————————————————

Emergency Meeting!🚨🚨🚨

Poe grabbed his phone and noticed it was Francis calling, so he answered the call while motioning for (Reader) to be quiet, “Hello boss, is there something you need? Ah yes, the plans for the new buildings have been drafted. I can bring them in a couple hours for review- 15 minutes?! N-No, it’s not a problem, but my daughter, she can’t be left alone yet. I promise she won’t be a bother! Thank you!”

Immediately after hanging up Poe started to gather his things. (Reader) had cleaned up her crayons and papers after figuring out she would probably be going somewhere with her dad. “Dad, are you going to work?” Poe sighed, “Yes, there’s a meeting I have to go to and unfortunately, you’ll be coming with me this time.” He recalled the last time (Reader) was at the office and shivered at the thought of the experience repeating. Poe grabbed his bag and began leading her out the door. The young girl whined at this, “Why can’t I stay with Uncle Ranpo? It’s Saturday, he’s not gonna be at work!” “I have to be there in less than fifteen minutes. That isn’t anywhere near enough time to drop you off with Ranpo. Did you grab some books? Colors and notebooks?” The girl hummed in response, pouting about having to go to her dad’s work on the weekend.

Living about 7 minutes away made it slightly easier for the stressed architect and young girl to arrive in time by speed walking. There were many times when a bookstore or sweet shop would catch little (Reader)’s eye and almost distract her, but Poe was determined to get him and his daughter to and through this meeting as soon as possible.

Once they arrived at the entrance of the guild, (Reader) felt a sense of deja vu wash over her. She grabbed Poe’s hand and he looked down at her. “I think I’ve been here before…and something bad happened. I don’t wanna go.” Her father’s expression immediately grew worried. Was she having traumatic flashbacks? Was he going to lose his daughter because of this important meeting? Karl jumped off Poe’s shoulders onto his daughter’s, which seemed to help calm the small girl’s nerves a bit. “It’ll only be one short meeting, then we’ll leave, I promise” Poe gave (Reader) a reassuring smile. “…Ok, but then we have to get ice cream!” “Deal!”

After passing through what seemed like 50 empty hallways, they finally made it to their destination with a minute to spare. Knocking on the door, they hear a “Come in” and both enter the lavish room, coming face to face with Francis Scott Key Fitzgerald himself and Louisa Alcott by his side, as per usual. Seeing Poe now here, Francis smiled and checked his watch, “Poe! You’re just in time! Let’s take a look at what you’ve drawn up.” Ignoring the presence of Poe’s daughter, he watched Poe take out the files for each plan and set them on his desk. “The new firm will require at least $690,000,000 to build…”

Meanwhile, (Reader) had moved from behind Poe to behind the couch he was sitting on. She felt uncomfortable upon seeing the blonde CEO, but couldn’t pinpoint what it was exactly that gave her that feeling. Taking out the crayons from her bag, the girl continued working on her picture for Uncle Ranpo. Sifting through the box to find a black crayon, because he always has to have his signature glasses at the scene, she noticed her red crayon fall out and roll around the corner of the couch. Of course, this did not go unnoticed by Francis. Amusement spread across his face as he spoke, “Poe, did you let in a rat?” Knowing full well who was there. The tousle haired writer tried to maintain his composure and picked it up, “I-It must’ve fallen out o-of my pocket from earlier.” Francis laughed, “I didn’t know you used crayons to draw up your plans for new structures.” This only raised Poe’s anxiety of the situation. Will Francis see his daughter and force him to get rid of her? Will he kill her?! “O-Occasionally I do, t-to avoid smearing in my drafts…” Hearing the poor excuse, Francis decided to see how far Poe would go to hide the girl’s presence. “I suppose that’s reasonable. Now, you were saying?”

The writer let out a sigh of relief internally and continued with the meeting. He couldn’t help but notice Louisa glancing next to him, almost as if she were trying to see behind the couch. At this point, (Reader) had finished her initial drawing and flipped her drawing notebook paper. Coincidentally, this was done almost in sync with her father, but she was slightly louder which caught the attention of the Guild’s strategist. The young girl, pondering what to draw next, glanced around the room before freezing up as she looked at the space between Fitzgerald’s desk and the door (like where Atsushi was before he escaped and took the doll to Dazai). Her pupils shrunk and (Reader)’s hand instinctively started moving to draw a familiar, yet forgotten memory…

As she was drawing, the small artist had built up the urge to sneeze and sneeze she did. The room fell silent for a few moments before Francis said, “Poe, please refrain from bringing anyone to Guild meetings again. You may come out from hiding.” (Reader) peeked her head out, still feeling a bit uncomfortable around the businessman. Francis would’ve been lying if he said he was surprised by the girl’s appearance. He had expected someone much older and taller. Clearing his voice without breaking eye contact, he asks Louisa to take the young girl to another room until he and Poe are finished.

Cleaning up her crayons again, and getting the red one from her father, (Reader) follows the loyal woman to a room nearby. “Miss Louisa? Can I call you that?” Louisa looked down at the kid, “Louisa or Alcott is fine.” “Do you have to go back?” “I do…but I don’t want to interrupt Lord Francis’s meeting…” The small girl pondered this, “Do you want to play double double this this?” Louisa was taken by surprise at the girl’s offer. Didn’t this kid remember her just watching Lord Francis killing her parents and almost her a few years ago? Why would she want to play a game with her? Unless it’s a trap! “—ouisa? Miss Louisa? You can say no, it’s ok.” A tiny hand was waving in front of Louisa’s face to snap her out of her thoughts. “S-Sorry, I don’t know how to play so I’ll just review my work. Can you please be completely quiet so I can work?” “I’ll try my best to be as quiet as possible!” Louisa smiled at the young detective’s determination, but immediately sweat dropped when (Reader) pulled out four adult mystery novels.

Soon enough, the meeting was over and the girl had solved three mysteries before reaching the end of the books. Louisa brought (Reader) back to Francis’s office, the room still making the young detective uneasy. Karl was the first of the three to notice the two enter, and he jumped onto the familiar child’s shoulder. This alerted both Poe and Francis of the two girls’ arrival. “Welcome back little one, I’m sure you were much better for Miss Louisa than you were during the meeting?” Poe sighed, “I-I’m so sorry sir…I j-just couldn’t find a-anyone to watch her.” Louisa interjected, “She was very good and polite. I asked her to stay quiet so I could work and she didn’t make a sound.”

The nervous girl who had been hiding behind Louisa with Karl on her shoulders came out, knowing that she had to apologize for causing trouble for her father. Fidgeting with the ends of her shirt, she bowed her head in shame, “I-I’m sorry for making so much noise during your meeting…and being a problem…” Francis patted her head and chuckled, “Just don’t let it happen again.” He pulled his hand back, “You’re exactly like your father, appearances aside. Run along now, I’m sure you two had plans today.” Poe and (Reader) said their goodbyes and quickly rushed out.

Once they were gone, Francis frowned and continued staring at the door, “Miss Louisa.” “Y-Yes Lord Francis?” He turned towards her, “Don’t you think that girl resembled Eliza Haywood and Damien Lewis a bit too much?” Louisa noticed this too, but she didn’t expect her boss to ask her about it so soon. “I do…but are we still going to kill her? Poe seemed really attached to her…” “He was told to kill her if he saw her back then, that means he disobeyed an order.” Francis sighed and sat down in his chair at his desk, “But this could bear fruit for us if we play our cards right, let’s leave her be for now. I’m sure her father will help hone whatever gift that girl has.” “Should I retrieve the files on her biological parents?” “No, please continue putting together the next strategy.”

Meanwhile, after having left Francis’s office, Poe began scolding his daughter. “You can’t cause more problems for Mr. Fitzgerald like that. He’s busy enough as is with his businesses and running the Guild. He had to call me in on a day off because of his schedule being so packed. Please don’t let that happen again, especially when you can be quieter for other people.” There was a moment of silence as the little (Reader) let his words sink in. “ Oh, Why were you so nervous around him? I mean, I don’t blame you since he could easily fire me or kill m-“ The girl stopped in her tracks the moment he said ‘kill’ with a terrified expression on her face. Poe saw this and immediately grew worried, he hadn’t seen that look since he first took her in. The writer, not knowing what to do, reached out his hand like he did so long ago and asked, “Would you like to go to those sweet shops we passed on our way here? We could also s-stop by the bookstore if it’s still open?” Trying to hide the nervousness in his voice. Karl nuzzled her cheek, both gestures making the child snap out of her trance. She shakily grabbed her dad’s hand and the three left to fulfill Poe’s offer to his daughter.

———————————————————————

YOU CAN’T BEAT THE POWER OF ENERGY DRINKS AND OVERWORKING MYSELF WRITER’S BLOCK! I GOT THE POWER OF CHILD READER ON MY SIDE!

I’m so sorry if you’re not happy with how this turned out. I tried to keep it consistent with the how (Reader) was adopted story. Please feel free to give feedback, it is much appreciated.

Fun Fact: Eliza Haywood and Damien Lewis are also writers irl.

[fallloverfic]

For the fic writers ask 2 & 32 please and thank you x

Ahh thank you so much for asking <3 (From the fic writer ask meme, which folks can still ask about :D)

2. In your opinion, what’s your best fic?

It's hard to pick, but I'll choose two.

I personally think my best fic is Sunlight, my 2023 what if ENNEAD Horuseth fanfic where Seth gives testimony at his sentencing about the night of usurpation. I fully outlined it and stuck to the outline and feel it's well-executed and enjoyable. It was also a lot of fun to write and I'm very proud of it.

My second is Empty Places, my 2019 Broadchurch/Detroit: Become Human Reed900 fanfic fusion. I am not great at writing mysteries, and I felt I did a very decent job, at least to the point many people were actually surprised by the solution to the mystery (which I felt was at least somewhat foreshadowed, though the motives were left unclear). I think the world was developed well and I liked the character dynamics a lot.

32. Have you ever written a ship into a fic without meaning to?

This one's waaay longer, so I'll put it under a read more.

This has happened a few times lol The more notable example is when I was drafting You reluctant demon, my 2023 Castlevania: Nocturne Mizrox fanfic, and started drafting Adrian and Olrox meeting, and the chemistry between them was uncanny lol I was truly not expecting that, I just liked both characters and enjoyed the idea of them meeting each other in any potential future season (season 2 was not confirmed immediately after the release of season 1, it took some time). I was also - like others - worried that Adrian would not be in much of any potential season 2 (so the story could focus on the new characters, even though Adrian does show up in most Castlevania games), and that he'd just briefly show up again in season 2 and that'd be it (again, it took a while for season 2 to be confirmed to be a thing, although the first stuff we saw when it was, was images of Adrian), so the fic was initially designed as wish fulfillment for two characters I enjoyed a lot and could conceivably cross paths. Their chemistry overtook the fic and I considered either making it an Alurox fic entirely or having a polyamorous conclusion with Mizrox and Alurox (it was actually hard to drag them apart and get Mizrak into the story, that's how good their chemistry is T-T). I also drafted several versions of the end of the story, which included Mizrak dying and Adrian becoming Olrox's partner, or Mizrox never reconciling and Adrian becoming Olrox's partner... and Mizrak dying lol The hardest thing about that fic was writing an ending where Mizrak didn't die, honestly lol Which is funny, given how season 2 turned out. I have a planned Alurox part 3 that I never put up, in part because I worried folks would be angry with me about it, because it's a Mizrox series and it was pairing a character of color with a white guy when there was already a canon pairing of two men of color, even though one of them (Mizrak) has a lot of religious and racist baggage to unpack and one of them does not (which made Adrian, who I already liked, far more appealing, too, but I also really didn't want to write a fic that felt kind of bashy towards Mizrak).

At any rate, to make the Alurox plot bunnies relax a bit, I wrote Too much conversation. The only Alurox fanfic at that point in time on Ao3 was a pre-Nocturne fanfic purely based on the game versions of the characters.

When I was thinking of Solas/male!Lavellan for a Dragon Age: Inquisition fanfic, I didn't really intend to include everyone/male!Lavellan, and then ended up doing that lol I honestly just thought that Solas' interactions with male!Lavellan were funnily shippy, even though Solas in the final game can only end up with female!Lavellan (which makes sense, as apparently more characters were intended to be romanced with anyone, including Cullen, but they ran out of time). I tend to ship the protagonist with everyone anyway, so it wasn't that unusual (hence why my female!Hawke fic exists as it does), but it was not the original intention. Mostly it was because I didn't have much to do in the fic other than "vignettes maybe of Solas banging male!Lavellan" and Solas being an unintentional voyeur was a funny concept. Originally it was going to be Solas observing everyone else doing stuff and keeping Lavellan for himself, but then it made me happier to just have everyone/male!Lavellan, and it made everything make a lot more sense.

Another time this happened was when writing The Point of It, my 2020 Castlevania (animated series) post-season 3 fanfic. I struggled a lot with ending it happily. Although I'd already written what I intended to turn into a general Trevor/Hector and maybe everyone/Hector fanfic after trailers for season 3 dropped, I didn't know how to end The Point of It with a happy Hector, and didn't intend to make it an everyone/Hector fanfic for a long time. But while drafting scenes, he kept having chemistry with everyone (particularly... Adrian... why does that man have chemistry with everyone T-T When I was writing You reluctant demon I was like NOOO NOT AGAIN alkdjalj), and the Trevor/Hector library scene was so easy to write, that that's how the story ended up going.

Another time this sort of happened was when writing Look at Me, my 2021 The Scum Villain's Self-Saving post-canon fix-it with Zhuzhi-lang. This was originally intended to be a non-ship fic, and then eventually he got a friendship with Liu Qingge, which I felt had shippy vibes to it. I also wanted to bring Gongyi Xiao back to life (so to speak, he never died), and I like the Gongyi Xiao/Zhuzhi-lang ship, so it was for a while just intended to be Gongyi Xiao/Zhuzhi-lang and Zhuzhi-lang & Liu Qingge, but then I thought, "well he has two hands, why not", on top of Bingqiu making their way into things, so it became a polyamorous fic.

Year of the Rabbit, my 2023 Heaven Official's Blessing Quanyin fanfic, was originally just intended to be just Quanyin. But I couldn't figure out how Yin Yu got into the costume lol So Xie Lian coming in made sense, but it was odd for him to be doing that, so Hualian also having some background fun made sense. Thus it became what it was, and a lot easier (and more fun) to write.

This isn't quite I think the intention of this question, but Permission, my 2023 Hunter X Hunter/Given Wing/Murata Ugetsu fanfic was extremely not intentional. I wanted to write Ugetsu fanfic for years, but didn't want to write him with either Akihiko or the other main cast members of Given, and making a male OC was frustrating work, so I put it off. While watching the Hunter X Hunter anime, I also really loved Wing and wanted to fic for him, but couldn't decide who to pair him with (because I wanted to pair him with someone for an m/m fic). And given I was already struggling with the series (which I ultimately dropped), I worried I'd never find someone proper in canon for him, and again, making a male OC was a hassle. And then I thought about how I had these two male characters in different series I liked and wanted to write m/m fanfic for, and Ugetsu was a bottom and Wing was a top, and they had fun chemistry, and the rest is history.

Again, not quite what this question is for, but Technical Difficulties, my 2023 The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom Tauro/Link fanfic, was originally just going to be the shrine mechanical arms/Link lol Tauro was meant to solely show up and disentangle Link. I fell in love with Tauro while playing the game, and wanted to do Tauro/Link fic down the line when I got to know him better, but I really wanted to do mechanical arms/Link fic, especially since no one had seemingly done it, and Tauro sticking around longer made the story better. So. If I'd done as originally planned and waited to fic for him until after I finished the game, that fic would still not be published lol

My Nuisance, my 2022-3 Heaven Official's Blessing Yin Yu & Qi Rong and Quanyin fanfic, was originally just going to focus on Yin Yu & Qi Rong and Xie Lian & Qi Rong, but adding Quanyin (one of my favorite ships) made the writing more fun and easier (especially because exploring more of Yin Yu's thoughts involved Quan Yizhen a lot, and just having him in the story rather than just Yin Yu pining made sense), so it ended up being a Quanyin fic, too.

Consume Me, my 2024 Alien Stage IvanTill fanfic, ended up going to unintentional kind of shippy places with Ivan and Dewey, which I thought about including in the fic proper but didn't end up doing. If I'd made the fic longer (or do so someday), there was a planned plotline involving the ship, but I never got around to it. It was very much unintended when I was writing chapter 1, though: I just needed one of Hyuna's helpers to help Ivan (since Till was unavailable), and he was going to be nice to Ivan. I didn't (and still sadly don't) have much attachment to either Isaac or Dewey, so even picking which one I used was entirely random.

My Ayashi no Ceres M/M series is actually kind of this, because all the pairings are just random things I was thinking about while wanting to write the fic I haven't finished and put up yet. I think it's funny (and sad) I haven't put up the one and sole fic I actually intended to write, but I assumed (correctly) that no one would care about the other random pairings, so if I wrote those last, I never would due to the crush to my self-esteem. Therefore the idea was "end strong" or some nonsense, as I assumed the fic I most cared about would be the one with the most interest. Unfortunately the lack of interest has meant I didn't put up the one fic I wanted to write in the first place, and it's hard to go back and finish a fic knowing likely no one will care.

Washed Up For You, my 2023-4 Heaven Official's Blessing Hualian fanfic, was not meant to have Quanyin in it for a while. It was just going to focus on Hualian. But while struggling to finish the story and wanting to write more Quanyin, and because of Yin Yu's donghua debut, I ended up adding them, especially because I like Xie Lian & Yin Yu. It made things a lot easier and harder, because I felt the story needed more time to flesh things out, but I also didn't really want to write it anymore while not leaving it permanently unfinished. So it's a bit of a rushed mess.

Generally, though, side ships I feature in some degree are for intentional world-building. I used to pair off Tina with a female OC in DBH fics because that meant Gavin was free and Tina wasn't alone. Hualian will basically always be a background ship for TGCF fanfics I make if it's not the main ship, same with Wangxian in Mo Dao Zu Shi fanfics where they're not the main ship and HankCon for DBH fics that don't star them or feature Convin. I also like a lot of ships, so squishing them in the background when they're not the focus is fun. I'm a multishipper and am generally down for everyone/everyone ships. I also have relatively few notps. So if I think of something and start exploring it, generally that's where I end up with things.

[martyreasemymind]

for the WIP tag game: more on BS please

(because it reminded me of drafting sideways before it had a name and the doc was called BS which obv stood for billy/steve but nevertheless my brain autocorrected it on sight, given the usual acronym, until it came time to post and i realized i couldn't actually name my fic bullshit)

i won't go TOO into this one b/c it's very old and a mess (yes the bs stands for bullshit lol)

this was an original work about a family of shapeshifters trying to care for two of their children who escaped from government captivity/experimentation/military use.

Llena, the younger sister, is traumatized but generally able to function.

Jay, the older brother, yo-yo's between being fragile and being completed dissociated due to his experience with scientists/military forcing transformations and causing him to lose his identity and connection with reality.

the ki'd family had been dysfunctional and bordering on abusive before their abduction, and completely unraveled after. at the beginning of the story there has been a degree of recovery due to the remaining kids being removed and the parents receiving treatment.

the story is told primarily from the perspective of the eldest brother, Coda.

Excerpts:

-

He felt the anxiety in his gut twist into hate. Like a house fire. The kind you have to douse for hours to really get rid of. To kill.

Arlo stood behind him, watched him dig his forehead into the harsh bark. Wordless. 

It was a strange feeling to be seen like this. Flayed open. Like he’d been caught.

When he turned and settled on the ground she joined him. Looking at the stars, he felt her head rest on his shoulder.

-

“Is there any chance he won’t make it?”

“No. Not unless something catastrophic happens.”

Catastrophe is relative. It could be anything. Five years ago it was Pela breaking a plate.

“Get out of your own head. You’re not helping anyone.”

Nessar stood in the open threshold of the hospital room.

“You probably shouldn’t be hanging out here either.”

Nothing.

Her eyes narrowed.

“You know he can pick up on your stress”

He didn’t like this version of her. Doctor-Aunt. Emotionally detached but close enough to get under his skin.

“Thought you said he’d be fine.”

“Being fine and being not dead are two different things.”

He looked at her. Gave her his best pleading look as a final grab for sympathy.

“It’s not good for you to be here.”

Goddammit.

“Look,”

Her eyes went away from him.

“It’s been a week and he’s doing fine. The hardest part is over”

She shrugged.

“Physically”

Fuck you.

“And I know you wanna be here and look after him but it isn’t healthy for you. Mentally. You should get back to class and get your mind on something else. Or at least try to.”

He turned back to his unconscious brother.

“Have you spoken to either of your parents in the last week?”

He scoffed.

“What? To make me less stressed?”

Nessar’s fingers went to her temples.

“Fine. You all wanna be stubborn shits and refuse to talk to each other, fine. But just think about what you’re leaving him to wake up to.”

He scowled, but rose from his seat when she stepped out.

-

“Oh.”

Coda sat at the breakfast table. Didn’t look at his father standing in the doorway. Couldn’t.

“Is there something wrong?”

He felt the anger crackle inside of him, the familiar thump of blood in his ears that heralded an outburst.

Communicate. State your feelings.

“I’m sorry I haven’t talked to you.”

He could see his father’s shoulders lean back in shock from the corner of his eye.

“I’m still…”

His mouth twisted into a sour grimace. 

Try again.

“I’m still...angry”

His father looked on but Coda didn’t see him. It was easier to pretend he wasn’t there. To pretend he was alone in his room, screwing his eyes shut and whispering threats and promises into the empty space and truly believing that it would hold them forever. That it could.

I’ll kill you

I’ll kill you

I’ll kill you

I’ll kill you

“And I’m angry...that I’m still angry.”

Asil tilted his head. Eyes soft.

“Coda...If this is about me getting my feelings hurt-”

“It’s not. It’s… We need to be together for when-”

His teeth tug into his bottom lip.

“For when he wakes up.”

There was a silence, both considering.

“I understand, and I appreciate you taking that stance,”

He didn’t think he’d ever get used to it. To his father being calm and rational and compassionate. He still doesn’t.

“But I don’t want you to feel like any anger you have towards me needs to go away just because there’s a bigger issue at hand.”

Tears stung behind his eyes. He hated this, he hated falling apart in front of the person he was always supposed to be better than.

He felt his father make an abortive step forward. The desire, the duty, to stay stoic and quiet and grown ground against the protean need to be comforted. The fist against the open palm.

The chair scraped against the wood floor as he stood up and trudged outside. Don’t run. Not from him.

[flowers-shouldnt-die]

For all the shippers who don't ship what I ship, and I made them uncomfortable. Sorry about that.

This is my heartfelt apology for all the Yennaia shippers. A snippet of the fic I'm trying to write, it's almost a first draft so it might need some editing and all. I changed a few things so you'd like it. This is just a tiny part of that stupid scene, and what I imagine Tissaia might have felt. (I mean I kinda know, like been there done that lol)

Anyway, hope you enjoy it.^^

She lifted her pipe to her lips and drew in a long, slow breath of the fragrant smoke. It offered a momentary reprieve from the torment of her thoughts, but it was a fleeting distraction. Numbness had become her constant companion, a shroud that cloaked her in apathy. The world had lost its colors, its vibrancy, and she, in turn, had lost herself. The coup, his betrayal, the weight of everything she had endured had left her hollow, an empty vessel adrift in a sea of despair. There was a hollowness in her chest that no amount of magic could fill. It was as though she had become drained of all purpose and meaning. The weight of her failures bore down on her shoulders, a heavy burden she could no longer bear. There was nothing left in her. Her hand trembled as she held the freshly penned letter to Yennefer, but it felt like an empty gesture in the grand scheme of things. A final message of love and regret. She knew that her actions would leave scars on the young sorceress, but she believed it was for the best.

"Sometimes a flower is just a flower, and the best thing it can do for us is to die." she mused, her voice barely above a whisper. She believed that her time had come to wither away. She knew what she had to do. In this world, she felt she had nothing left to give, nothing left to take. Her gaze fell upon the knife, an instrument of both liberation and finality. She could feel the emptiness seeping through the broken shards of her heart. She longed for the flames that had consumed her during the battle. At least in the midst of that chaos, she had felt something, even if it was pain. Now, there was only the harsh, unforgiving emptiness. Her trembling hand reached for the knife that lay on the table before her. She traced its edge with her finger, her mind drifting through memories and regrets.

"You weren't taking control. You were losing it." - decades ago, she told her. Was this also how she felt? Or rather, how she did not feel. What an irony, she thought, that her journey with Yennefer had begun with pain and now would end in pain. She had waited too long to allow herself to feel what she felt for Yennefer, and now it was too late.

[doublegoblin]

Last Line Tag

A big McThankies to @catchingbigfish (Always happy to see your name pop back up on my feed) and @asterhaze (Same to ya lol) for the tag. This actually got me to write a little more of my book to get out of the creative slump.

“Alright then, it’s been a pleasure, let me see you out.” Grabbing the chain of the desk lamp they give us a half hearted salute as they pull the chain. Click With a final flicker of the light bulb we find ourselves once again outside the old rusted door of maintenance. Peter had not traveled with his seat, the low thud of his rear landing on the ragged carpet echoed through the otherwise empty space. With some agitated vocalizations he stood and brushed the dust off his legs. I wait a moment to ensure he is alright before we turn back to the expanding hall. While mostly the same, the deep purple accent along the lower edge of the wall was the indicator of our travel. A glance behind us was returned only with the blank wall of the hall's end. Fishing the keys out of my robe they hummed in the palm of my hand. We were at least on the right floor.

no pressure tagging for @garthcelyn @stanrendipity @tisiphonewolfe (I know you just finished your first draft) @gummybugg

[fivewholeminutes]

i am in fact the same TMBTE anon both times (sorry!! 😭). again, such a cool analysis!!! i'm new to ST and IMMEDIATELY got invested. i haven't seen an artist do something like this before, so it's really amazing trying to connect the dots based on what everyone thinks. and yes, i do think it's the same girl in the music videos, which is interesting because of the whole "he planned everything from the start" theory. then i wonder about what the music videos mean (though i do agree that the vision shifted a little after TLYW)! i loooveee the idea that Sleep is coming from within Vessel, cause he's literally a host as in an empty holding vessel. and the white mask thing omg......so crazy cool......cause then it goes into after being "taken hostage", they change their masks as like some sort of acceptance (which kind of mirrors Vessel's black body paint transformation cause the current masks are black too?). idk, i do think that sometimes we/the fans stretch things, but that's also the fun of it. always love hearing the Think™

and in true sleep token fashion, i think i'll remain anon - 🪼

Hello again, Anon!! Sorry this one took so much time! I am stuck in a car now, so I can finally finish it. The editing on mobile is an absolute fucking nightmare though

Don't be sorry for being the same Anon! I was just listing all possibilities and now, knowing it was you all the time, I hereby pronounce you My Beloved Anon. No take backsies. (Kidding, if you're not comfortable with this title, let me know!)

Alright! Let's make a list:

Immediately getting invested in ST? HIGH FIVE, this is what happens to approx. 98% of us (at least here on tumblr). And everybody agrees that there is Something about them. And nobody knows what that is, only that it works. So we're actually in a cult, sorry everyone!

Ok, no, it's not entirely true that we don't know, people have hinted that their uniqueness might be in a. extreme fucking talent, obviously and b. letting the audience fill in the gaps that lack of the band members' identities provides with whatever suits everyone's needs best.

The videos switch their vibe dramatically, don't they? The early ones feel more... I don't know, based in reality (maybe except for the Fields of Elation), while TPWBYT ones feel more like they are set in those dreamlands Vessel mentions in The Apparition. Okay, TLYW is more dreamland-ish, Alkaline looks like it's set on Earth/waking world, but Vessel gets too much power from Sleep and needs to be stopped by the ancient-gods-slash-eldrich-horror-hunting version of Ghostbusters. So the older videos seem more human to me, you know what I mean? Maybe they wanted to show that with time, Vessel looses more and more of his humanity. But we can't rule out the "they just had more money for the videos, so they went off" possibility. Also, I think they don't make much videos to not let the fans think there is some "canon" here?? Or they just don't like making them lol

EXCELLENT IDEA with that whole hostage mask situation - I've just had a loose thought they looked like sacks, but i haven't connected it to the lore, thank you, Anon!!!!! Now, as usual, it made me Think™. Cause we have interpretations floating around (which i love, btw) with the other Vessels being "drafted" into the band to relieve the first Vessel from the toll Sleep's power has on him, cause after all, his human body cannot manage it by itself when Sleep grows in power from all the worship. BUT what if they didn't join voluntarily? They weren't persuaded to join the cult, but they were kidnapped instead. Carefully chosen, to fulfill the plan of greatness. Hence the hostage-looking-masks. And then stockholm syndrome kicked in (i know, i know, the term is not exactly correct anymore, but for the lack of a better one 🤷‍♀️) and they were like "ye, you know what. That's actually better than a 9-5 job" and the masks changed. They have embraced the dark side. (I am cataloguing this under "unhinged theories", btw. But yeah, it's just a thought, possibility, me fucking around etc. That's a long-ish car trip, I gotta do something with myself, you know.)

Oh and we absolutely DO stretch things (see point 4, for example)! See things that aren't there. Make 2648585 interpretations. It's fun (when we remember not to involve the real people behind the masks in the mix)!

Anon, i respect you deciding to stay on Anon so much. You're making the band proud, probably!

[okthatsgreat]

12, 13, 24, 25, 26, 29, 43, 74

For fanfic ask game because brain still go brrr about your work a lot :D

JORDANNNNNN SHAKING YOU GRABBING YOU SHAKING YOU

this ones gonna be LONG lol GONNA PUT THIS UNDER READ MORE :]

12. do you outline your fics?  if yes, how detailed are your outlines?  how far do you stray from them?

i try to lmfaoooo!!!! for opddmh for example, ive got the basic outline of how i want everybodys arcs to end, the climax of the story, and a vague idea of a few of the plot beats all written out in an empty discord server i use to keep track of things!! i also put in loose scraps of dialogues i daydream up even if im not quite sure where theyll fit in yet, just so if im really stuck i can scroll through and see if anything rings a bell!! there are QUITE a few emotional scenes already written out and ready to go

nothing is super detailed tho!! quite a bit of it is still on a chapter to chapter basis. while i have an outline its not always set in stone, for example there were a LOT of scenes i had scribbled down for odietlg and lgowab that didnt make the final cut!! i dont have the notes for odietlg but i do have them for lgowab bc theyre archived in that empty discord server i mentioned earlier lol. one idea from that story that got scrapped were all of the different endings coming from different peoples point of views (for example korekiyos pov, tenkos pov, kaedes pov) but that got scrapped bc i thought itd lessen the impact a bit. ALSO in one of the earlier drafts of lgowab a LOT more v3 kids were gonna be ahl members including tenko, but i thought it was more important to keep their numbers down to really emphasise how much danganronpa is dramatising their threat level lol! off the top of my head there were bits and pieces i scrapped from odietlg too but i wont go on and on about that LOLOL

oh and also there is an entire channel dedicated to miu that i still go back to sometimes LMFAOO

13. do you listen to music while you write?  if yes, what have you been listening to recently?

oh my god i cant listen to music while i write LMFAOO or at least not music with lyrics. if i really really need to write i will pull myself up by my pants sit down at my desk and stare at my screen in total silence until eventually my adhd meds wear off and i go to sleep

im mostly kidding LMFAO if i really need something in the background ill put on this playlist! if i need inspo sometimes i go to the fic playlists ive got on spotify :]

24. how do you choose whose POV to write in?

i choose based on who i think will tell an interesting story! going to be flat out honest with you, sometimes the povs i write from arent my favorite characters, but i think that their personal story would be a really good fit in what im trying to convey! tenko is probably one of the only exceptions considering the entire story is based around her surviving LMFAO even then that was mostly because i wanted to dissect her under a microscope for 42 chapters. emma and maki are like this too considering mask of my own face/run from your demons are oneshots :]

himiko and miu got chosen for lgowab mostly based on the fact that they had completely different stories to tell and i didnt want to choose two protags who were going through the same thing!! himiko strived for selflessness while miu struggled with morality and paranoia and i thought they would contrast well :] and oh my god let me tell you i did not expect to bring miu back for a whole other fic but i got ATTACHED shes such a mess.

everybody in opddmh were selected because they brought a range of different lifestyles/coping mechanisms to a post-game universe and they all have stories i wanted to explore!! makoto and being the poster child for hope and struggling with how others perceive him, mikans debate with her own morality and growing bitterness towards the company, and then of course akanes total refusal to be worried at all costs. byakuyas brief povs are to supply a more pessimistic view of their situation that parallels miu, which is why theyre always together during it. ive mentioned this in another ask from kozuelovemail but the v3 kids that stay alongside each pov were selected because they parallel the older participants in some way!!

and then of course. probably goes without saying but i do tend to choose female povs lmfaooo not only because I Am One but also because theyre just soooo criminally unexplored

25. what’s your favorite part of the writing process (worldbuilding, brainstorming/outlining, writing, editing, etc)?

well i can say its NOT editing LMFAOOOO this bitch does not edit!!!!!!!!!!!!! which you can probably tell!!!! i mean i give it a good glance and then send it off usually a lot of the edits are made when i wake up in the morning read over the chapter again and go "what the hell was i trying to say here"

brainstorming maybe???? i love Thinking. a lot of the times stories come to me in various scenes rather than one linear storyline and ive gotta grab them all from inside my head and mash them together. i also love brainstorming characters arcs and what their Deal is gonna be throughout it

and then writing of course. love writing. ive had to teach myself to kinda just type out a draft at first and to stop going back to edit, and then once i finish i go back and add extra or remove anything that sounds silly. writing on a good day is lots of fun!!!! ESPECIALLY when its scenes that im excited for/are high drama. like. those high drama scenes that ive been waiting to get down onto google docs dot com...... hell yea

26. what’s your least favorite part of the writing process?

PFFT WHOOPS already answered probably editing! its difficult for me to sit there and read over everything meticulously cuz my brain just does not want to thoroughly go through something especially if ive just completed it. which. most of the time as soon as i complete it and have gone back to add in extra/remove the silly bits i consider it done and i send it through LMFAO. thats on me for updating weekly tho!!! there are gonna be mistakes!!!!!!!!!! and yknow what ive learned to live with that this is a fanfiction i write for fun and i do this cuz i love writing :]

29. what’s something about your writing that you’re proud of?

hgfdjkgshdk i always feel so bad like. praising my writing yknow? theres always going to be parts of it id change or want to go back on but if i had to choose something id probably say the characterisation? i try to put in a lot of effort in making these people feel more human and not as "larger than life" as they usually are, and i want every pov i write from to have flaws and things theyre good at and little quirks that make each of them stand out from each other. when i write characters i try to keep in mind the little things about them, like himiko twitching her nose or mikan having acne shes self conscious about, miu twirling her hair or makoto using novelty mugs instead of the more aesthetically pleasing ones. just tiny things that round them out as people :]

43. is there a trope or idea that you’d really like to write but haven’t yet?

ouhghggh..... not sure! im so so focused on opddmh rn if i think about anything else ill totally spiral away from it (im already doing that with the rp im in LMFAOOOO erin on the brain). there are a few things im excited to write for but thatd be spoiling >:)

73. do you have a fic you wish got a bit more love?

not really!!!! i know its such a corny fucking answer but genuinely people have been so so lovely on all of my fics. like some of the kindest people. and also people who have stuck around for a very long time!! theres one commenter mythgirl02 who has literally given me a comment on every single chapter on every single fic ive published mythgirl if youre out there..... i love you. and even if they dont comment on every chapter ive gotten commenters who have actually brought me tears YOU FUCKING INCLUDED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and also lily if shes reading this their comments are always so so sweet

i write bc ive got stories i wanna get out of my brain and share!!!!!!! its fantastic that people click on them to read along!!!!! i really try not to worry too much about kudos or reads or anything like that, but the support has been very very lovely and its led me to some awesome communities :]]

JORDAN I FUCKING LOVE YOU FOR THIS <333 THANK YOU SM AND SORRY ITS SO LONG I LIKE TALKING

fanfiction ask game!

[likeumeanit9497]

yale | c.s. |

chris sturniolo x fem!reader

read part two here

summary: chris and y/n’s relationship was strictly sexual, and they both seem more than content with meeting up whenever y/n can get time away from her school work — and her boyfriend. but after a particularly intense hook up where chris put his all into making y/n shed her stress from exam prep, it becomes clear that at least one of them is starting to want something more. 

warnings: SMUUUUT; friends with benefits; cheating (do not do this pls); thigh riding; fingering; oral (f receiving); p in v; dirty talk; unprotected sex (wrap it); 18+

notes: i was (loosely) inspired by the first few lines of yale by ken carson when writing this hehe. im definitely not 100% happy with the ending of this one but i wanted to get this out of my drafts :p hope u all enjoyyyyyy <333

y/n: Hey. I’ve been super busy all day studying for my exams next week. Not sure if I’m going to be able to make it to yours today.

Chris: :(

Chris: Please come

Chris: You can study here

y/n: Definitely not. Your needy ass would just distract me.

Chris: I won’t I swear

Chris: I’ll hangout in Matt’s room or something and you can study at my desk

y/n: I don’t know…

Chris: I haven’t seen you in weeks :/

y/n: You miss me or something?

Chris: YES obviously bro

y/n: lol

y/n: I’ll tell Brad I’m going to study at the library. See you in 15, bro.

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

Adjusting the shoulder strap of my tote bag, I waited for Chris to come open the front door and let me in. I didn’t have to wait long, as after a few seconds I heard the sound of his feet clambering down the stairs before being met with his unbeatable smile beaming down at me. After returning the smile, I walked through the open door and headed in the direction of his upstairs bedroom, but was stopped by a strong grip on my arm. I was spun around and was suddenly facing Chris, his brows furrowed slightly in concern.

“No kiss?” He asked with a pout. I winced, feeling guilty, before wrapping my arms around his waist and giving him a short but deep kiss. “Sorry Chris, my head’s just so scrambled. I have three finals as soon as I get back to Connecticut after Thanksgiving break and I’ve been so stressed about them.” I apologized as I moved my hand up to brush his hair out of his face. He must have just showered, because his hair was dripping wet and hanging over his sparkling blue eyes.

He brought his hands to my ass and squeezed it gently. “My Yale girl.” He said before nuzzling his face into the crook of my neck. Giggling at the ticklish sensation from his facial hair, I gently pushed him off. “You know I’m not your girl, Chris.” I rolled my eyes as I started climbing the stairs up to the living room. I felt him press up against me as I walked, before I felt his breath against my hair. “Today you are.” I felt a flutter in my stomach, my body reacting in excitement just from the thought of what was to come, but I quickly cleared my mind of all of its dirty thoughts for the sake of my academic future. “Only until eight, that’s when the library closes and Brad will know something’s up if I’m still out past then.” I could practically feel his eyes roll behind me. “See? I told you that you shouldn’t have brought him home for the holidays to meet your parents. He’s causing more problems than he’s worth” He grumbled. “Whatever you say Chris,” I teased, “But you’re still gonna let me study.”

As soon as we reached Chris’ room, I headed over to his desk and began pulling my laptop and study notes from my tote bag. Chris helped me by clearing all of his empty Takis wrappers and Pepsi cans off of the surface of the desk, and moving his headset and controller to the side so that there was plenty of room for me to lay all of my papers out.

“Can I grab you anything from the kitchen before I leave?” Asked Chris as he rested his chin on my shoulder, watching me unlock my laptop. I shook my head. “I’m good for now, thanks.” I responded, already feeling myself zone into my studying. “Okay. I’m gonna be on Fortnite in Matt’s room. He’ll be out all day with the rest of my family so he won’t mind.” I nodded my head again, only half listening to his rambling as my eyes erratically scanned all the information on my computer screen. He gently pressed his lips against my temple. “And when you’re ready for a break,” He reached his hand into the big pocket of his hoodie and I heard a muffled but familiar jingle before he pulled out the small red bell and placed it on the edge of the desk. “You know what to do.” I looked up to meet his knowing eyes and he flashed me a quick wink. I felt my lips curl into a small smirk and I nodded. “Got it.” He smiled before exiting his room, shutting the door behind him.

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

Rubbing my tired eyes under my glasses, I groaned in frustration. I had been using flash cards to practice my active recall for my Biology II final, and had answered the last four questions incorrectly. The most infuriating part was that I shouldknow the correct answers, but the hours I had spent studying nonstop had made me feel like I was burning out. I glanced at the time in the top right corner of my laptop screen. It was nearly 5:00. I had been studying at Chris’ for the past three hours straight. Exacerbated, I sighed and rested my head against the cold surface of the desk, closing my eyes for a moment.

After a little while, I forced my burning eyes back open and they landed on the small red object in front of me. In my erratic mindset from the hours I had spent studying, it was like the part of my brain that knew why I was really at Chris’s right now had shut off completely. I battled myself for a few moments; one half of me wanting to do the responsible thing and continue studying until I had corrected my mistakes, and the other half screaming at me to take a break. With my mind growing more and more excited at the idea of distracting myself from the mental gymnastics of Biology II, I reached for the bell and rang it three times.

Almost immediately, I heard a door creak open from down the hall and eager footsteps approaching. I watched from my place at the desk as the doorknob turned and Chris’ face popped in the room. “You ready for a break angel?” He asked as he made his way completely into the bedroom; shutting the door behind him before I even responded. Quickly stacking my flash cards and shutting off my laptop, I nodded. Immediately, Chris’ previously sparkling eyes seemed to darken before my eyes and a sly leer crossed his face.

Still sitting in the desk chair, I watched curiously as he slowly walked up to me; my head tilting up with each step he took in order to maintain our intense eye contact. Torturously slow, he leaned toward me and placed both hands against the arm rests of the chair to support his body. I waited, perfectly still, as his lips hovered in front of mine; the small space between them electric with anticipation. Finally, I felt my body immediately relax when his lips attached to mine. Our lips moved in sync slowly, his mouth painfully soft against my own. The kiss very quickly deepened, one of his hands now in my hair while one of my own wrapped around his neck, and a small moan is stifled by his tongue gently entering my mouth. Goosebumps began to rise over my skin as his mouth left mine and began traveling down my neck. Chris immediately found the spot just above my collar bone that he knew drove me crazy and began sucking and nibbling at the delicate skin; hard enough for me to roll my eyes back in pleasure but gentle enough to avoid leaving any evidence that his lips were ever there.

After trailing his lips back to mine and rhythmically kissing me for a few more moments, he stood up straight and gazed down at me. With a small smile, he hooked a finger under my chin and guided my eyes up to his. He brought the rough pad of his thumb to my soft bottom lip, and watched intently as he dragged it down slightly. “Come here.” He ordered as he began walking backward in the direction of his bed. I stood up on shaky legs and followed, straddling his lap at the edge of his unmade bed. Wrapping my arms tightly around his neck, I eagerly began kissing him again, feeling his content hums vibrate against my lips as he slipped his hands underneath my sweater, only to find out that I had chosen not to wear a bra. “Oh yeah,” I began, detaching my lips from his and innocently staring up at him through my eyelashes. “I was in such a rush to get here that I just threw this skirt and sweater on. I completely forgot to wear anything underneath them.”

I couldn’t help but smile slightly as I watched Chris’ blue eyes dilate to near-black as he realized what I meant. To confirm this realization, he pulled my black plaid skirt up over my waist to find my completely unclothed pussy hugging his thigh. His jaw went slack when he noticed the small dark patch already beginning to appear on his jeans from my arousal, and he immediately placed both of his hands firmly on my hips as if restraining himself. Eventually, he was able to pull his eyes away from my core and looked up at me with blown out pupils. His lips met mine once again, only this time they brushed against mine teasingly and without any sort of depth. Growing frustrated, I began grinding my hips against his straddled thigh so that I could find some sort of relief. At this, Chris’ grip on my hips tightened and his gaze fell down to where my core connected to his leg.

“You want to ride my thigh like a little slut, don’t you baby?” His voice sounded deep with lust, and I whimpered at his filthy words as I continued to chase my relief. Using his hands on my hips, he forcefully halted my movements and my eyes immediately snapped onto his. “Answer me, y/n.” He demanded, and I bit my bottom lip gently in frustration before quickly nodding my head. Chris smirked and shook his head slowly. “Use your words.” He said as his fingers moved mindlessly in a circular motion on my hips.

“Yes, please let me ride your thigh.” I managed to get out through my ragged breathing, and almost immediately he used the firm grip he had on my hips to slowly drag me up and down his thigh. Shutting my eyes in relief, I let him continue to grind my core down onto his thigh while I simply held onto his neck for support. The pool of arousal on his leg allowed my clit to glide with ease, but the rough texture of his denim supplied the much-needed friction against my folds that was beginning to drive me crazy. As our movements continued, Chris watched my blissful expression before bringing his lips to my neck, licking and nibbling softly. I moaned out his name as I began to feel the familiar build up of pressure in my lower stomach. “Are you feeling good, princess?” He mumbled against my neck and I nodded my head quickly. “You’re gonna cum soon aren’t you?” He asked as he brought his head back up. Again, I nodded with my bottom lip pulled tightly between my teeth. “I wanna watch you fuck my thigh yourself while you cum, so start moving princess.” He commanded as he removed his hands from my hips.

Without missing a beat, I began to grind my body against his at the same pace that he had me at before. I felt my body flush at the intense feeling of an orgasm building up, and I had to screw my eyes shut. “No y/n,” Chris began as he pulled my sweater up over my head to discard it. “I want you to look at the mess you’re making all over my thigh.” I threw my head back from the intensity of his words, but obeyed him. Looking down at my pink cunt’s rhythmic movements against his darkened jeans, I felt my orgasm finally bubble over. Gripping tightly at the base of his hair and whining out his name through clenched teeth, I gave into my high and rode out my orgasm on his flexed leg.

Once I felt the last whisper of my orgasm leave by body, I draped my head over his shoulder in an attempt to rest and catch my breath. I didn’t have more than a brief moment to do so, however, as in one swift motion Chris sat me up, laid himself flat on the bed, and pulled my hips up to hover over his face. “C-Chris I can’t, I’m so sensitive.” I whined, still feeling the weakness in my legs from my first orgasm. I felt his cool breath against my dripping cunt as he gazed up at it. “You can take it baby, I just wanna make you feel good.” He responded before lowering my core right against his open mouth. I was immediately overwhelmed by a white-hot sensation of arousal as his tongue danced around my bundle of nerves. A moan fell from his lips as he firmly gripped my ass with both of his hands and began manually grinding my core against his mouth just as he had done before on his thigh. Still feeling the overwhelming after-effects of my first orgasm, I could do nothing besides hold onto his long hair for dear life and repetitively moan out his name.

As my second orgasm started to build up in my lower stomach, Chris used one hand slap my ass; sending a row of shivers down my spine at the sharp pleasure. “Fuck Chris, I-I think I’m gonna cum again.” I cried out. I felt his mouth turn up in a smirk against my heat before his tongue quickened; now doing swift figure-eights against my clit. I felt my legs begin to shake uncontrollably on either side of his head as my second orgasm tore through me; this one being even more intense and lasting much longer than my first.

Chris gently lifted me off of his face and he once again took a moment to admire my dripping wet heat as it continued to pulsate above him. He placed his tongue at my opening and trailed it quickly up to my nerves to collect all of my arousal, and the contact on my already overstimulated cunt caused me to hiss through my teeth and buck my hips away.

“It’s so pretty baby.” He whispered, peering up at me from between my legs and causing my core to once again grow hot with need. Nibbling on my bottom lip, I leaned back slightly to place my hand on his clothed hardness behind me. Running my hand up and down its impressive length slowly, I wordlessly let him know what I really wanted.

Knowing me so well at this point, I didn’t need to do much else before he helped me move off of him. “Ass up angel.” He commanded and I immediately obeyed; pressing my chest into his mattress and arching my back as far as possible to give him the best view I could. I wiggled in anticipation as I heard him unzip his jeans and quickly pull them off. Soon after I felt his warm, swollen tip rub against my folds, and I whimpered softly at his teasing. He continued his agonizingly slow movements, knowing they would drive me crazy, and I knew I couldn’t wait any longer. In my discontentment, I pushed my entrance against his dancing tip and sighed in immediate relief as I felt the first couple inches of his enter me.

My satisfaction didn’t last long though, as Chris quickly pulled his hips back, causing his dick to fall out of me, before leaning forward; wrapping his long fingers around my neck and forcing my head up off the bed. “You’re such a needy slut, trying to fuck yourself with my cock like that.” I rolled my eyes back in pure bliss from the combination of his dirty words and the pressure of his hand around my throat. “You’re gonna stay still and be patient.” He whispered as I felt him use his free hand to resume teasing my cunt.

His tip swirled around my ass, slid across my clit, and finally made it back to my opening where he finally allowed only about one inch to rest in the crest of my hole; as if to test me. I stayed as still as possible, not wanting to prolong the torture for any longer, though it took everything out of me to not sink my shaking hips down again and swallow his shaft greedily.

“That’s a good girl.” He muttered gruffly as he finally pushed his cock slowly into my begging hole, earning a satisfied moan from me as he bottomed out. I felt my walls stretch out to fit his girth, and my eyes began to water at the intense pressure that I would never get used to. He removed his hand from my throat and placed it on the back of my neck while his other hand was gripped to my hip, using enough weight to hold me down as he began to slam into me repeatedly. His pace was slow, but he made sure to hit my sweet spot with each thrust, causing incessant moans to fall from my mouth.

“That feels good, doesn’t it baby?” He asked as his pace began to quicken slightly. Not being able to form a sentence, I squeezed my eyes shut and nodded my head rapidly. “Does Brad make you feel as good as I do?” His voice was gravelly but taunting, and I felt myself clench around him as he spoke. When I didn’t respond to his question, he fisted my hair and pulled my head up forcefully. “Tell me y/n, I wanna know. Does Brad fill you up like I do?” He practically growled in my ear, and I felt the tears in my eyes threaten to spill as another orgasm threatened to wash over me.

I gasped when Chris suddenly spun me around so that I was laying on my back with my head against the headboard. With his cock now just resting on my stomach, I whined at the loss of contact as he stared down at me with taunting eyes. “I asked you a question y/n.” He spoke calmly, but his hand’s firm grip on my jaw told me it was just a facade.

I brought my hand down between our bodies to lightly stroke his cock before reaching up to lightly brush my lips against his. The kiss grew deeper once I tasted myself on his tongue, before I finally pulled away to speak. “No. No one has ever made me feel as good as you do.” I watched closely as Chris’ pupils dilated from my words, and in an instant he plunged his cock back into me; my shocked moan stifled by his lips reattaching to my mouth.

I head fell back in ecstasy as he rolled his hips slowly to meet mine. His eyes were on me and I was jarred by the intimacy of our movements. My shock must have been clear on my face, as he seemed to have a moment of clarity before straightening up, hooking his arms around my legs, and slamming his cock into me hard and fast. His jaw went slack as his eyes gazed down to where our bodies fused into one, and I had to dig my nails into the wooden headboard as I approached my orgasm.

As the room filled with our moans and the wet smacking of our connecting bodies, his rhythm grew sloppy and I knew that he was as close to his orgasm as I was. Tightening my legs around his body to pull him even deeper into me, I wordlessly egged him on just as I felt my third and final orgasm take over my body. My back arched off of the bed and a string of profanities flew out of my mouth as I convulsed around his cock, and it wasn’t long before his breath hitched and his body stiffened; his stiff member shooting cum deep into me.

After we both rode out our highs, Chris collapsed onto my chest. As we both caught our breath — our bodies still connected and gently pulsating against each other — he lightly brushed a finger up and down my arm. I brought my hands to the back of his head and began gently massaging it. We continued to lay there in silence for so long that I began to feel my eyes grow heavy with sleep, before I was suddenly brought back to reality by the sound of his voice.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, his voice muffled by my shoulder. “Pretty good, honestly,” I responded with a laugh, his one-dimensional question throwing me off,“You?” I felt him raise his shoulders into a shrug. “Me too.” He responded simply. Still too tired to move, I closed my eyes again as I relished in the light feeling that always came after really good sex.

“Did you really mean it when you said that no one makes you feel as good as I do?” Chris’ question made me jump, partially because I almost dozed off again but mostly because of its intensity. I stayed silent for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to approach this conversation. It wasn’t the first time that Chris had spoken to me like that when we were sleeping together, in fact he asked me some form of that question nearly every time. It always just seemed like some sort of egotistical dirty-talk thing for him, so I never really thought much of it once it was over. But Chris had never asked whether or not it was true in post-sex conversation before, and it scared me a bit.

Obviously, I couldn’t stay quiet forever, so I decided that the best way to answer would be with honesty. “Yeah. I meant it.” I finally said, and he lifted his head off my should to look at me. “So why are you with him?” I was once again shocked by his words, as our no-strings-attached scenario had been a very mutual decision at the start. Chris made it clear that he had commitment issues and I was already in a relationship with someone else, so it had worked out perfectly for both of us. Or so I thought before Chris rocked the boat with this conversation.

Confused, I gulped quickly and furrowed my brow as I watched his face for any sign of a joke. With a stone-still face and eyes filled with shining apprehension, I quickly realized that he was in fact being serious. “What are you saying, Chris?” I asked timidly, and in response he planted a soft kiss to the tip of my nose. “I don’t know,” He began, “I think that… I don’t know, maybe we’d be pretty good together.” His voice wavered near the end, as if he couldn’t believe that he was actually saying those words.

Trying to keep my expression neutral so that he wouldn’t freak out, I gently rubbed his back. “Chris, our situation was set up to be the way it is for a reason. You don’t want to date and I-” I paused for a moment before Chris finished my sentence. “You’re with Brad, I know. But you said it yourself that he doesn’t make you feel the way that I do. And you have to know as much as I do that our sexual chemistry isn’t just surface level.” He rambled on as I just stared up at him like a deer in headlights.

I would be lying if I said that I hadn’t ever wanted to hear him say these things to me. When I first started hooking up with Chris eight months ago, there had been a part of me that wanted more. Brad and I didn’t have the healthiest relationship, and my first time sleeping with Chris was actually my opportunity to even the score from when Brad had cheated on me a few weeks before then. But the sex had been so good, and Chris and I had gotten along so well that we decided to continue behind Brad’s back. During those first few times I would have absolutely left Brad if Chris gave me any sign that he wanted more than sex, but that was months ago. Things had grown more complicated since then, and I was truly blind-sided by this sudden confession.

“Chris, I brought Brad home to meet my parents.” I whined, growing a bit frustrated at the situation I was now in. “I know you did. And I don’t want you to feel like you have to make a decision right now, or even ever.” He brushed his hand across my cheek as he spoke. “I’ll take whatever part of you that I can get until you’re done with me, no matter what. But, I really, really want more.” My head spun so rapidly at his words that I had to close my eyes. He planted a gentle kiss on my left eyelid, and then my right, before lifting his body off of mine.

“I’m sorry, y/n. I just felt like you needed to know how I’ve been feeling.” I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed, and rubbed my temples in contemplation. I watched his silhouette as he grabbed a towel off his shelf, wiping himself down before passing it to me. There was a opaque hush in the room as we both cleaned up and got dressed, and I felt like I could burst at the tension.

I walked over to his desk and began collecting my notes in silence, packing them back up in my tote bag. “You’re leaving?” I heard Chris’s apprehensive voice from behind me ask as I swung the bag over my shoulder. I checked my phone, it was just after seven. “Yeah, I don’t think I’m gonna be able to focus on studying here right now. I’m sorry Chris.” I mumbled as I headed towards his bedroom door. He stayed silent, but followed me down the hall and towards the stairs. I felt a lump grow in my throat from the guilt of staying silent, and wanted nothing more than to erase the past twenty minutes from my memory. My mind fogged with confusion as I bent over to put my shoes on, and when I straightened up Chris was standing in front of me. He gave me a faux-cheerful smile, clearly not wanting me to feel bad, and I wrapped my arms around his neck in a tight hug.

Focusing on the feeling of his thumbs rubbing circles on my lower back, I stayed in his embrace for what felt like hours. Eventually, I pulled back and grabbed his face in both of my hands.

“Let me just get through my exams. I’ll call you after them all and we can figure this out, okay?” I tilted my head, hopeful that my response was enough for him right now. I felt my body relax as a shy smile crossed his face, and he nodded quickly. “Good luck, smart girl. You’re gonna kill your exams. I’ll see you when they’re all over.” He gave me a quick peck on my lips before I walked through the open front door and stumbled to my car. With shaky hands, I started my engine and began backing out of his driveway, nervous about the future but certain about what I had to do.

I just had to get through Thanksgiving with Brad and my family, survive finals week, dump my boyfriend, and come back here as soon as possible to have a very important conversation with Chris. Nothing too crazy, right?