#because it's one of the only situations this week where he's actually felt & acted on a sense of control over what happens to him

[uracutieraka]

awkward

I know you hurt me, but (hey) This is more than a friendship

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Iwaizumi Hajime x F!reader

Tw! Smut(ty-ish), mutual pining, being used (or so reader thinks)

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synopsis ; Hajime heard rumors about you, and since you were his close friend from childhood, he obviously has to go out of his way to see if they're true.

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it's your third year and obviously that means rumors are still being spread by any and everyone who enjoys gossip.

this time the rumor was about you.

"She's been with over 5 of the guys on the volleyball team"

"She's had 15 boyfriends from what I heard."

A bunch of bullshit really.

You had never been with anyone.

At least that's what your life long friend Hajime had thought.

But now that he's thinking, the past year you've been really strange and distant.

Disappearing and reappearing at odd hours of the night, to strange locations.

Hajime only knows this because he has your location, naturally, he's your best friend, he's got to watch out for you however he can.

At least that's how he explained why he needed your location to you anyways.

You on the other hand, had found an interest in photographing run-down and nearly abandoned parts of your home town.

Sneaking around at 2:30 in the morning made it easier to get into these odd, sleazy places.

That was until a few weeks ago when a group of boys from the school caught you walking around a risqué club chatting with a few older men who you knew from your first year when they were third years.

And that's how you ended up in this situation.

4 large men towered over you, spouting off a jumble of questions.

“How come sawaka says he saw you mingling up with some shifty old guys at a strip joint?”

The tall dark haired boy, issei, asks. His arms are crossed and hes giving you a near parental eyebrow raise.

“W-what?” You stutter out. Genuine confusion on your face.

“You heard him! Now answer!” The tone of oikawas voice almost sounds like a whine from a child more than a demand.

“Gah! You guys dont control me!” You gather up your things and stand.

“And just where do you think youre going?” Makki now opens his mouth, but you know hes just antagonizing the situation, he probably couldnt care less about whatever you got up to in your own time.

“Away! Forever!” You say dramatically, leaving the classroom to enjoy your lunch elsewhere.

That night your phone rings, around 12:30 am.

Your eyes look up from your notebook that youd been doodling in for the past 4 hours.

Answering it a gruff voice speaks out

‘Can i come over? We need to talk.’

Iwaizumi seems upset.

‘Yeah of course, ill meet you down the street.’

10 minutes role by and you make it to the little park down the street from your house, just as Iwaizumi arrives.

He looks good, he’s starting to fill out and looks more manly than ever.

“Hey…??” You say in a questioning manner. You couldnt tell how he was feeling right now and then pit in your stomach was growing ever since he said those words.

“Your parents are still out of town?” He asks making his way past you to start the walk back towards your home.

“Yeah, for another 5 days i think? Who knows.. hah..”

Smooth, jackass, real smooth.

“Ah! Thats lame, i dont know how you stay home alone all the time like that.”

The mood lightens a bit with his goofy tone coming out slightly.

Hajime had always been the more serious one out of the two of you but that was never the case when it actually came down to being just the two of you.

He always was cracking jokes and acting like a fool, just to get a smile from you.

“Yeah, me either, i just stay up in my room now, i guess.”

“Seems boring.”

“Eh.” You shrug your shoulders, unlocking your front door.

You two make your way up to your room, not before raiding the kitchen for snacks and drinks first though.

This felt normal.

Like old times.

You honestly couldn’t remember the last time you two had hungout like this.

Over the past year you had drifted away from him, only because you couldnt help yourself.

Your once innocent thoughts about the boy youd grown up with had started becoming more and more…colorful.

The way his hands looked when writing, all the years of volleyball had definitely done good things for the man.

His arms were veiny as well as his hands.

His shoulders were broad and made him looks 10 xs more masculine than he already did.

Not to mention his voice had significantly dropped and his voice cracks had almost completely disappeared.

He was becoming a man and you were becoming a woman. And women have needs.

So instead of being selfish you separated yourself from him.

“So, you wanted to talk?” You ask, shoving a handful of popcorn in your mouth, sitting crisscrossed facing him on your bed.

He shifted to sit criss cross to face you now.

“Yeah, about the stuff going around school. You know, the things people are saying about you.”

“What about it? Its not true. If thats what youre wondering.”

“I mean- i didnt think so but…” you cut him off before he can say anything else.

“But you just had to figure it out for yourself?”

You knew him too well.

You saw something in him shift, a sudden energy overtook the room, one you hadn't experienced before.

He looked at you, "Yeah. You could say something like that."

"What do you mean?"

The way he looked back up at you after you had asked that sent a warm heat through your body.

"I mean, I've seen your location, why are you running around dirty parts of the city in the middle of the night? Are you really down there...doing things?" He seemed upset for second but then became stern again.

"Things? Like what? Partying?"

"I guess."

"No.," you sigh rolling your eyes as you lift yourself off the bed, reaching for your laptop. "I've been doing photography of the nightlife and shit."

He takes the laptop from you when you offer it to him, clicking through the hundreds of photos you'd accumulated over the past year.

After a bit of silence he speaks up.

"Wow, y/n, these are," he looks up at you and gives you a huge smile. "amazing! Holy shit dude! Why didnt you tell anyone about this?”

“Because i wanted it to be my own thing that i do for myself.”

He hands you back your laptop and you close it moving to set it on your desk.

A sudden change in energy yet again settles around your room.

Hajime is looking at his hands fiddling with his thumb and index finger, youre re-situating yourself on your bed when you look back up at him.

You know third year is coming to an end, which means he’s going to California soon.

You open your mouth to speak to him.

“I got into UCLA.” You say confidently.

He now looks up at you eyes wide.

“What?” He asks, wondering if maybe he misunderstood.

“I couldnt just let you go to the US without me. That wouldnt be fair y’know!”

He lifts off his side of your bed and tackles you down in a hug.

Positioning himself to hover above you now he has a giant grin on his face.

One only youve ever seen, hes goofy, and totally a sports nerd, well mannered, and sweet. This is a side of him only youve ever gotten.

“Youre not pulling my leg are you?” He give you a near-disappointed face.

“No. Im serious.”

“Ok.,” His eyebrows furrow and he turns his head for a second, a blush spreading on his face, with a huff he looks back at you. “Im…im glad youre coming. And im glad youre not out partying and getting with other guys.” He looks more serious than before.

“Other guys?” You raise a brow at him.

His face gets even redder than before.

“Well, yeah. I just figured you knew that i liked you….”

“You just ‘figured’ that i knew that you, hajime, liked me, y/n? And how exactly would i have figured that out?”

He rolls off of you now laying next you looking at your ceiling.

You’re nervous. He likes you? The guy that you’ve spent your entire life with like you…back?

“I dont know. The guys said it was obvious so there was no way you didnt know.”

You give him a blank stare into the side of his head.

“You are the biggest idiot i have ever met.”

He now looks at you, you can see him visibly shrink in on himself.

A few moments go by and you turn your head back to look at the ceiling.

“I love you.”

He sits up turning to look at you laying down.

“I love you.”

You sit up and your guys faces are so close you can see the faint scars on his face from all the roughhousing over the years.

Hes looking at you blankly, unable to comprehend that you might actually love him.

You roll your eyes at him. Knowing exactly how hes reeling in his own head.

“Im not lying, i love you.”

He gives you a raised brow.

You huff and lean in closing the distance.

He kisses you back, his hands snaking up around you, under your tshirt.

Hajime had been with a few girls before. He had told you about it, obviously.

Honestly you shouldve been more upset at the fact he was being a total hypocrite right now.

Things had heated up, he was between your legs, caging you beneath him, you had your hands in his hair, holding his lips to yours.

He was grinding up against you, you were moaning into his mouth.

Next thing you knew he was ripping your clothes off and you were pulling his off of him.

He ran himself over your wetness and let out a groan.

Pushing himself into you, you let out a loud gasp at the sudden splitting feeling.

He kissed your jaw whispering in your ear.

“You ok?”

You moaned and rolled your hips forward a bit, to signal you wanted him to move.

He began moving back and forth, slowly at first, until you begged him to go faster.

Soon he had your leg up on his shoulder and was leaning over you, leaving kisses down your jaw and neck.

“H-haji-,” he leaned up, not slowing his pace. “M’ gonna- m’gonna”

He threw his head back pulling your hips to match the pace of his thrusting, he was going deeper and harder than before, the knots were tightening in your abdomen.

“Do it.”

With that you let go, seeing fireworks fill your vision.

“F-fuck!” He pulled out cumming on your stomach.

He got up and retrieved a washcloth from your bathroom, cleaning you up.

Getting dressed again you laid back down, him in his boxers next to you.

But he was facing your wall. You felt a ping of hurt in your chest as you crawled back into your bed, where the boy you loved had just deflowered you.

“Haji-“ you spoked but stopped when you heard a soft snore leave his mouth. A sigh left your lips as you faced the other way and closed your eyes. Youd just talk to him in the morning.

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Morning rolled around and you found yourself in the middle of your bed. Looking around you didnt see hajime or his things. You stood out of bed and looked to your clock.

5:45 am.

You grabbed your phone, opting to call him instead of search around for him.

No answer.

You thought back to the night before and felt sick to your stomach.

Maybe you messed everything up.

These thought filled your head all the way to school.

When you arrived in the classroom you saw him sitting at his desk. Right next to yours.

You made a slow approach towards your usual seat, eyeing him like he was some sort of monster that would spot you at the slightest movement.

Sitting down you finally turned towards him.

“Hey.” You said soft enough for him to hear it.

He looked at you then turned away quick. Not answering.

You looked down at your lap, where your fingers were twirling anxiously.

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This act kept up for 3 whole weeks. Not one word said between you two.

This was becoming a problem for your mutual friends on the volleyball team.

You had stopped coming around to practices and ignoring the other boys. It was lowering the whole teams morale.

Finally oikawa had enough and cornered you against a corner with the other 2 boys.

“What. The. Fuck. Is. Going. On.”

It wasnt a question. It was a demand.

“Nun ya.” You said crossing your arms and rolling your eyes.

Maki smacked the wall next to your head leaning down to make eye contact with you.

“Tell us now.” He was dead serious.

“Fine.,” you huffed looking away from them. “Hajimeandihadsex3weeksagoandheleftinthemiddleofthenightandhasbeenignoringmeeversince.”

“Woah-woah- you and haijime WHAT?!” Now mattsun spoke up shaking his head in disbelief.

“We had sex. And then he rolled over in my bed and went to sleep. And now hes ignoring me. And hasnt talked to me in 3 whole weeks.” You were looking at your shoes, tears had finally built up in your eyes.

Oikawa put his hand on your shoulder.

“Hey,” it was soft spoken, unusual from his normal behavior. “Hes a dick for that. You didnt deserve that.” He patted your back and motioned for the other two boys to follow him.

They made their way to Hajimes classroom telling him to come with them for an impromptu club meeting. He followed unknowingly.

They found themselves in the club room.

Hajime in a familiar position that you had been in by the same boys just a bit prior.

Oikawa, Maki, and Mattsuwaka had evil and dangerous looks on their faces. Hajime was scared.

Mattun spoke. “Whats your problem?”

Then oikawa through gritted teeth. “Youve got some explaining to do.”

And finally Maki, “How is it you bag the hottie whos our number one supporter and somehow you manage to fumble her?” Hes popping his knuckles in a threatening manner.

Iwaizumi gave a few dumbfounded blinks then spoke up.

“I uh-,” he was cut off by the three boys leaning over him more than they were before, closing out any light from the corner he was in. He cleared his throat and spoke again. “I came really quick. And uh. Im embarrassed to talk to her.”

The three boys all exchanged glances before leaning back up.

Hajime leaned all the way back up as well.

Maki reached out and landed a hard punch to the cornered boys stomach.

“You fucking idiot!”

Oikawa now spoke, “you know, y/n thinks that you hate her? She was crying over it earlier!”

Mattsun pushed hajime towards the door.

“You better go fix this. Fucking dumbass.”

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It was 8:30 pm.

Hajime knocked on your door, hoping your parents were off somewhere for work.

You answered the door.

Hajime took you in.

You had on a too large Tshirt he knew to be oikawas, one you had stolen a year prior, during a group sleepover at mattsuns.

Hajime remembered you had been baking cookies in the kitchen with the tall setter when he caked you in flour and eggs. In exchange he offered up his sleep shirt, feeling bad afterwards about the mess he made.

Looking down a pair of his own boxers sat on your hips. Folded down a few times so theyd fit you.

They mustve gotten mixed in your laundry at some point. Who knows.

“Haji! Hi!” You gave him a wide-eyed stare. Caught off guard by his sudden presence after weeks of missing him.

He looked at you then down at his feet, kicking a small rock he shoved his hands in his pockets, looking back up to you he spoke.

“Im really fucking sorry y/n.”

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You had only seen him like this twice in your entire life.

Once when he and oikawa broke your brand new guitar that you spent a whole summer babysitting and doing odd jobs to save money for.

Hes still doing chores for his mom to this day to pay off the debt of buying you a new one.

The second time was 2 summers ago when you and the other volleyball team members went camping for a summer bonding trip.

Oikawa and hajime were sitting next to you rough housing when the black haired boys elbow flew back and hit you square in the nose.

A quick *crack* sounded on impact.

He slowly turned his head to look at you, blood rushing down your face from your nose, your nose was already purple and crooked to one side.

“Holy shit. Holy shit, holyshit. Holyshitholyshit.” You panicked.

The other team members gathered around you, unsure what to do.

“We… we need to go to the hospital.” Hajime spoke up.

“You fucking broke my nose!” You were crying, trying not to touch your nose.

“Oh fuck!” Oikawa now said bring everyone back to earth.

With a rush you were in a coaches car with haijme holding you stroking your hair.

“Im sorry” was all he said to you for the 30 minute drive.

He never lived that down. But you werent too mad.

You got a free nose job and hes still paying off his debt for breaking your nose.

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“Wha-“ you were cut off by him speaking again.

“I really really fucked up y/n. And im so sorry. I love you and i was embarrassed and didnt know what to do.”

“Not ignore me, maybe?” You huffed now annoyed.

“I know. Im sorry.,” he looked around then straight abck at you, now straightening his posture. “I love you too.”

You blinked a few times then began shutting the door.

He stopped you with his foot.

“Wait!”

You groaned loudly then reopened it.

“What? You really hurt my feelings and now you just want me to be like ‘oh ok, cool youre embarrassed you fucked me’ and move on?”

“No! I- i want to explain myself.”

You leaned against the door and rolled your eyes. “Fine.”

“I uh, i camereallyfastandthiughtyoudhatemeandbeembarrassediwasyourfirsttime.”

You now stood completely infront of him.

Your eyes yet again wide in surprise.

“So you ignored me because you came quick?”

He was now giving you the same dumb look you had just given him.

“Yeah.” It was quiet. Like a scolded child.

“So what? I came too, i dont know how all this sex stuff works exactly but i think were even.” You now had an eyebrow quirked up at him.

“Oh…”

“Yeah ‘oh’ you ignored me for 3 weeks because you came quick or whatever you just said.”

He now looked extremely embarrassed.

“How are you going to make it up to me?” You asked.

“Uhm,” he stood there thinking for a second. “How about a date? Tomorrow? 7pm? Wear something nice?”

You felt a smile grow on your face.

“Sounds good.”

“See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.”

[charliespringverse]

... it's just hit me that lister describes the bathroom kiss as assault and even when jimmy reassures him that he doesn't see it that way and doesn't have a problem with it, lister refuses to accept that it was anything other than objectively assault

while two days earlier jimmy insisted that a 32-yr-old having sex with lister at age 16 was wrong, despite lister not seeing it that way and not having a problem with it

does that mean that lister took that conversation on board but only as far as "the person on the receiving end of an advance can't accurately assess whether or not it was wrong" and is now equating himself to the woman that took advantage of him . because i will weep

[hannieehaee]

DOES HE KNOW ?

18+ / mdi

summary: after being friends with lee chan for a good portion of your life, the boy you considered nothing but your best friend suddenly starts acting different, making you slowly fall for him. problem is, you have a boyfriend.

content: friends2lovers!chan, reader has a bf, almost cheating but not actually, afab reader, smut, oral (f receiving), wet dream (this is actually a huge point in the plot lol), masturbation (f receiving), dry humping, more oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 9.8k

a/n: rewrote this so many times but finally finished it!! i love writing channie so i hope u guys enjoy<3

masterlist | kofi/patreon

support me through a one time tip<3

Something was clearly wrong with you.

Was Lee Chan hot?

Nothing made sense anymore, and it had been the case for a while.

You could date it back to a little over a month ago, at one of Soonyoung's usual gatherings. This had been where it all began, or more so, where it all ended.

For some reason unknown to man, that was the day in which Chan began courting you (his words, not yours).

After years of a solid friendship between the two of you, a not-so tipsy Chan cornered you at aforementioned party and began dancing with you. This was a common occurrence between the two of you. Despite having been taken for the past few months, you were still quite liberal about your touchy relationship with your best friend. However, what happened next what was truly out of the ordinary.

"Hey," he had whispered against your ear.

"Yeah?", you giggled, entertained by the boy.

"Wanna know a secret?"

"Sure."

"I've never wanted anyone as much as I want you," and with that, the dam had broken.

You froze against his arms, eyes widening. Though he could not see, as you were holding each other far too close to make eye contact.

Maybe he was drunk?

He interrupted you before you could respond. Chan pulled away from you to look into your eyes with a fully sober look in his face.

"I'm not drunk, and I know you have a boyfriend. And I know you only see me as a friend. But give me a few weeks, and I'll change both those things," was the last thing he said before giving you a peck on the cheek (yet another common thing in your relationship) and walking away with a confident sway in his step.

Ever since then, you had been bombarded by romantic gestures from your former best friend – former because you truly had no idea how you felt about him by this point.

Chan bought you flowers, – even when it was raining – had your favorite beverage at hand any time you so happened to see him, tied your shoelaces should they ever come undone, plucked loose eyelashes from your cheeks, tucked your hair behind your ear, placed his hand at the small of your back before crossing a street, walked you to and from home, looked at you with an indescribable sweetness in his eye, he ... He did everything any girl would need to be completely swooned (and then some).

You were beyond confused as to when this change had come about. As far as you knew, you were nothing more than best friends. When had Chan even begun liking you? What had changed?

"Oh. He's always had a thing for you," was what your mutual friend Soonyoung said when you first brought it up.

"What do you mean? We've been friends for years, he's never-"

"Yeah, duh. You never showed interest, what was he supposed to do? But yeah, he's crazy about you," added Seungkwan, sipping his drink nonchalantly.

You had decided to meet up with some of your mutual friends while Chan was at work. You needed at least five minutes with your other friends without Chan getting in the way with his flirting.

"It's kinda sick, actually," interjected Soonyoung once more.

You remained quiet for a while, thinking back to every interaction you'd ever had with Chan that may have revealed his feelings for you. Unfortunately, you kept drawing blanks all the while Soonyoung stole fries from your plate, disregarding your confusion at the situation.

"But why now?", you finally asked, slapping his meddling hand away from your food.

He shrugged, "Maybe he got fed up of watching you with that guy."

"He has a name, Soonyou-"

"None of us really care enough to learn it."

That much was true. None of your friends were fans of your current boyfriend. Or of any of them, to be quite frank. You had certain lack of skill at picking them, though this time around you felt confident about your current relationship. He was nice and respectful. Maybe a little bit of a square, but you liked to think you brought out the fun in him. This was also the longest relationship you'd ever had, giving you the grand total of three months in a exclusive relationship and a month and a half of a very prolonged talking stage that took place before he ever asked you out officially.

"Is this because I've been taken for longer than usual?", you tried to assert.

"Oh! That might be it, huh?", Soonyoung agreed.

"Well, I guess he didn't want you to break your streak of failed relationships," chuckled Kwan.

With a slap to his chest, you dropped the subject, deciding to ignore the slight acceleration of your heart any time you thought about Chan's crush for too long.

At first you found it to be a bit of a joke, but his affections quickly began to wear you down. It also didn't help how blatant he was about it, constantly flirting up a storm around your friends, not caring for their amused smiles at your flustered half-rejections of his advances. The only times in which he held back were the rare occasions in which your boyfriend would join your friend group in their outings. He could be reserved at times, not really clicking with your loud friends, so his presence was not a common thing.

Being honest, you felt kind of bad at the genuine excitement Chan's crush gave you. Though you weren't sure of your feelings for him at this point, his interest flustered you tremendously. You'd always known him as a pretty and charming guy, despite never really acknowledging such things. You understood why he got so much attention from girls, though you never thought too much of it. He was your best friend, you never had any motive to consider anything further than platonic feelings for him. But now that you were questioning your feelings, you felt as if you were kind of betraying your boyfriend.

Not to misunderstand, you had no desire of pursuing anything with anyone while you were in a committed relationship. You were just not that kind of person. But the mere thought of blushing at the words of a guy who wasn't yours (all while actually having a guy of your own) made you feel ashamed. Specially considering that you already had a very grand preexisting fondness for the guy in question.

God damn you, Lee Chan.

"So, when are you gonna drop this game and finally let me take you to bed?", he whispered cockily against your ear.

He was always so goddamn confident about it; a trait you always liked about him but were beginning to detest.

As per usual, you simply jokingly groaned at him and pushed him away in a manner far too light to be considered serious.

"Fuck off, Lee Chan."

With a giggle, he stepped away, usual pep in his step as present as ever.

"I'll get you another drink, 'kay, pretty?", you lost him in the crowd after that.

You'd gone drinking with your friends yet again, though this time at a distant friend's house party. Your boyfriend was absent once more due to his personal disdain for such outings. He was simply not much of a social drinker, which was fine! It just bothered you at times how often he chose staying in rather than going out with you.

Despite your rejections of Chan, you felt embarrassed to admit that you loved the thrill of his interest in you. Never had you ever had someone so shamelessly after your affections despite your lighthearted refusals. It made you feel wanted and powerful. It felt specially good when it came from a guy as handsome and charismatic as Chan; a guy who could have basically any girl all thanks to his unbelievable charisma.

Yet he wanted you. He was after you.

The guy you knew most was currently infatuated with you.

Yeah, you did need that second drink.

"Where's your guy?"

Your thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice coming from behind you.

You turned around to find Vernon leaning back against the wall, a smirk on his face at having watched your encounter with Chan.

"Shut up," you walked over to recline on the wall next to him, deciding to people-watch alongside him.

"It was a genuine question," he claimed, handing you a sip of the beer he'd been nursing.

"He's working again," you sipped, handing it back to take turns as you waited for Chan to bring you your drink of choice.

"And Channie?"

"What about him?"

"Does your boyfriend know?", he asks, more curious than actually interested.

Men, nosy as usual.

You groan, "Don't ask me that, Non."

"C'mon! Has he not noticed the way Chan's been after you these past few weeks?", he seemed far too entertained by the subject.

"Of course not! Chan's kept his distance around him, but ..."

"But?"

You turned your head to him, back still leaning against the wall, "I don't know!"

"Well, do you like him? Channie, I mean."

"It's- I like the attention."

"And him?", he pressed.

"He's starting to wear me down," you admitted.

Vernon chuckled into his red solo cup, "It's cute."

"What is?"

"The back and forth, the 'will they, won't they.' But if you ask me, I think they will."

"I have a boyfriend, Non," you grumbled, not entirely convincing in your tone.

"Yeah, but are you guys even friends? Wouldn't it be better to date someone who you actually like?"

"Stop doing PR for Chan. It's not like he needs it," you grumbled, already uses to this back and forth with many of your other friends – all of whom were rooting for Chan.

"Fine. But get out of here. Your guy's probably looking for you."

"My guy's not here."

"I meant Channie, now go!"

You grumbled again before walking in the direction in which Chan had left, knowing he'd likely still be in the kitchen attempting to fetch you a drink.

It didn't take you long to find him, nor did it take you long to spot the girl standing next to him, seemingly flirting up a storm. Chan didn't seem too deterred by this either. More than anything, he appeared to he reciprocating.

Maybe this was why you and Chan started off as friends and remained so for the years you'd known each other. He always had a girl clinging onto him one way or another. Though he didn't date much, he sure enjoyed swooning girls whenever he could.

You'd always been very strict about being exclusive with whoever you dated, never wanting to compete for someone's attention or engage in prolonged talking stages. This was something you differed in with Chan. He was quite the opposite, engaging in situationships that never really led anywhere. As his friend, you never really cared much for this. If it worked for him, then that was that. However, now that he was supposedly attempting to pursue you, – despite you being in a relationship – you couldn't help but scoff at the sight of Chan still entertaining any girl that'd show interest in him.

You almost turned around and left, but were promptly stopped by the man himself, who spotted you before you could take one step and disregarded the girl immediately. The girl scoffed in your place, clearly put off by Chan's attention being taken away so easily.

"Babe!", he called out, one drink in each hand, as he approached you, "Sorry I took so long, the line was crazy."

Immaturely enough, you rolled your eyes and grabbed the drink from his hand, ignoring his statement as you sipped it. You really had no right to be jealous of Chan talking to other girls. You were taken, and you weren't even interested in Chan. Were you? Still, you disregarded those thoughts and allowed the bitterness to cloud your mind and began walking away from the boy.

"Huh?", a question mark physically manifested itself above Chan's head as you began walking away from him, "Baby? Wait, where are you going?", his arm managed to reach you before you got far enough and softly turned you around to face him.

The two of you were still standing far too close to the people crowding the kitchen, however, so Chan assessed that it'd be better to move to a quieter spot in order to properly check in on you. With a decisive nod to himself, he grabbed onto your hand and walked you over to an empty hallway before turning to you again.

"What's wrong? Did something happen while I was gone? Did someone-"

The concern in his eyes seemed very genuine, making you feel bad for being such a brat at the mere sight of Chan interacting with another woman. You had never had an issue with your best friend being around other women. Hell, you never even cared whenever he would occasionally ditch you for other girls. The two of you were simply best friends. You had always rooted for him in his romantic life, even encouraging him with it.

But things had drastically changed as soon as he began showing interest in you.

It was like his sudden interest had unlocked a part of you you hadn't known was there. It had given you this brand new possessiveness you had never held over Chan before; a possessiveness you didn't even feel for your current boyfriend.

And it made you feel embarrassed. Tremendously so. It also made you feel like a hypocrite. Here you had a guy who was clearly extremely into you, yet he had made no comment nor expressed any disdain over the fact that you already had a guy. Chan had never expressed any type of jealousy over any of your past relationships. Despite having liked you for the entire duration of your friendship (information you were unsure Chan was aware you knew), Chan always respected your relationships and even tried to befriend any guy you brought along. Yet you couldn't hold back your bitterness at him showing interest in someone else; interest you now felt should be reserved only for you.

The hypocritical nature of your feelings made you look down in embarrassment as you interrupted Chan's inquiries, clarifying that nothing was wrong.

"No, Chan. I'm fine, I swear. Just a little tired. I, uh, thanks for the drink."

"Hey, are you sure?", he lifted your face with a finger to your chin, making you hold eye contact with him.

It was quite insane how this was not even meant as a flirtatious move, but rather a demonstration of his platonic worry for you. Yet your heart sped up anyways.

"I'm fine, Chan! It's just the crowds. You know how I get. Nonnie told me to go look for you and there were so many people in the kitchen, and then I couldn't come up to you because of that girl and-"

Your rambles were interrupted by an exclamation mark practically manifesting itself above Chan's head, with the sudden realization of your jealousy hitting him.

"Oh?", he tilted his head and leaned in a bit closer as a grin began making its way onto his face, "'That girl'?", he repeated.

"Chan-"

He got closer to you, now cornering you against the hallway wall, still giving you space but blocking your view of anything other than him.

"I'm sorry, baby. Did that bother you? Hmm? Me talking to some other girl?"

"It's not like that! I just-"

"It's okay. You can admit it. I won't judge you," except his smirk was nothing but condescending.

"Chan! I-"

"But that's kinda funny, though. Isn't it?", he chuckled to himself.

"W-what is?," you stammered at his sudden shift in mood.

Though he was still far too close for a friend to be, and he was still leaning into your touch, his tone had shifted to one a bit more cynical in nature.

"You're jealous? Baby, you have a boyfriend."

"I do, and-"

"So what's there to be jealous about? You've got your guy. Yet you're looking my way? When you've been rejecting me all this time?", he leaned even closer, almost breathing right against your nose, eyes hooded as they bore into your own, alternating between your eyes and lips in a somewhat teasing manner.

"I-I'm not jealous. Just ... Why flirt with me if you're after other girls too?", you made the mistake of asking.

"Oh, baby. I'm not looking at anyone else. Not my fault you're so possessive you can't even stand other girls looking at me," you knew he was simply teasing you, knowing full well that you were not the possessive type. But his words carried a slight weight of truth behind them.

You had no reason to feel any type of possessiveness over Chan. Yet you still felt uneasy at the thought of Chan's eyes on anyone who wasn't you. Now that you had a taste of his attention you wanted it all to yourself.

"I just have one question," he whispered, far too close to you.

You nodded at him to continue, wide eyes on his own.

"Does he know?"

"Know what?"

"That you like me back," his eyes went down to your lips again.

"Chan. Stop. I-I'm not gonna cheat on my boyfriend," you huffed, avoiding his eyes – which was quite hard at his close proximity.

The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, with your eyes occasionally dropping to his lips. But it was fine, since his own were also on yours – though his expression was more triumphant than anything, while yours revealed your nerves. Had you been in a less restricting position, your thighs would've instinctively pressed together at the thoughts that were suddenly running through your mind at his proximity, but thankfully the situation didn't drag long enough for your lust to reveal itself.

He finally pulled away, smirk still on his face, "I'd never ask you to do that, baby. 's just nice to know my plan's working," he chuckled.

"What plan?"

"I'm wearing you down. You want me."

Unfortunately, you had no rebuttal, knowing that Chan had won this round. Even if you denied his statement (which you had half the mind to do), he had caught you red handed. You had whined about not having his full attention just like a petulant child would. Nothing you said would save you from that.

You managed to move on from that quite quickly, finding Soonyoung and Kwannie just a few moments later and using them as an excuse to move on from the way in which Chan had cornered you. You spent the rest of the party pondering Chan's words. Did you actually want him? Or was it just that you wanted him to want you?

Now you were stuck with embarrassing moisture between your thighs and countless doubts hanging over your head.

"C-Channie! Oh, Channie, fuck!"

Your cries of pleasure were unparalleled as the pretty boy you liked to call your best friend slurped at your cunt like a starved man.

You weren't sure how long he had been at it, nor were you sure how you'd ended up in this situation, but you had no complaints. His tongue between your thighs was pure heaven, especially with the pathetic whines the boy kept letting out at your taste.

"'sso good, princess. Cunt's so tasty ... Been wanting it since I met you ... Been waiting for you for years," he mumbled against your cunt, getting back to licking and sucking immediately.

While your heart was unsure what to make of such a heavy statement, your body responded with desperation. To have a man yearn for you like that for years was doing wonders for your cunt. It made you gush like crazy, beginning to grind against Chan's face in such a depraved way.

"Just like that, fuck. Fuck my face just like that," he groaned, the vibrations of his voice causing you to grind even harder against him.

"C-Channie! It's so good ... So fucking good, oh!"

He seemed to get off on your praise, you realized, as you felt ruckus on the bed beneath you caused by Chan canting his hips against your mattress and moaning incessantly into your cunt. The knowledge of your taste alone making Chan lose himself in such a way was enough to drive you towards your high, getting closer and closer by the second.

"Gonna make me cum, princess. Got such a pretty fucking pussy," he managed to breathe out despite exerting all his efforts into fucking the mattress.

Surprising to no one, Chan claimed your orgasm on his tongue just moments later, somehow managing to talk you through it and make the experience even more swoon-worthy than it already was. Chan had managed to make you feel a way no one had ever before, making you ache for him with just his words.

It had all ended far sooner than you would've liked, but it was fine. You knew that with a few kisses to his ear Chan would give you whatever you wanted without question.

Yet before you could even get to enjoy the entirety of your high, it was abruptly taken from you the moment your alarm began ringing, awakening you from what you hadn't realized was just slumber.

Waking up from a wet dream was already embarrassing enough on its own, but waking up from a wet dream about your best friend whom you swore you weren't into like that was a new level of low.

As much as you tried to brush it off as some sort of fluke or meaningless dream, you knew better. You had never thought of Chan in such a way, much less imagined him in that context, so it was safe to say that Chan had been right. His plan was working.

~

The following hours were spent on alert (and still incredibly horny). You thought about calling up your boyfriend to help you out, but the thought in itself felt dirty. How could you ask your boyfriend to take care of a problem caused by your best friend? There was that, and the fact that your brain would probably not be satisfied by your boyfriend right now.

You needed to get Chan out of your system.

You knew that if you called up Chan and explained your problem to him he'd come running immediately, no questions asked as he helped you relive your dream. Such a thought had your head spinning and your knees feeling weak. Except you had a moral compass that was preventing you from doing so. So, you spent the next few hours extremely sensitive and attempting to take care of yourself in any way you could think of.

Unfortunately nothing compared to your dream. Nothing felt as warm and loving as Chan had felt. There was not a single thing that could bring back that feeling of want Chan had towards you; a feeling you were so desperate for. This led you to spend the rest of the day sexually frustrated, unable to reach your high as you felt something was thoroughly missing.

Even when your boyfriend stopped by to see you after work, things had gone awry. You'd received him at the door in a desperate manner, dragging him in with you and inciting him into fucking you. You didn't care if you had Chan in mind anymore, you just needed some satisfying release. Sadly, your boyfriend did not match your energy, opting to slow you down and have his way with you in his own way. This led to yet another unsatisfying release to add to today's tally. You were unsure if you could even call it a release, as it felt entirely underwhelming and had been mostly accomplished by your own hand.

Going to sleep, still sexually frustrated, you cursed at yourself for letting Lee Chan get in your head.

Spending time with Chan after your incident was nothing less than incredibly awkward.

Despite Chan being fully unaware of what had gone down in your subconscious, you couldn't help the blush that would take over your face any time the two of you made eye contact. He had all the power at the moment.

You had also made the mistake of discussing the occurrence with your closest friends, Seungkwan and Soonyoung. Purposely, you had not mentioned the name of the culprit behind your wet dream, but it had not been hard for your nosy friends to figure it out on their own.

"You had a sex dream about Channie?!", Soonyoung had all but whispered, causing some old ladies across the diner to look your way in judgment.

Fortunately not too many people were present at the diner you were currently hanging out at, but it didn't really help the embarrassment you felt at the words even being uttered. This was the only time in which you could see your friends without Chan's presence, so you couldn't be too picky about the setting.

"Soonyoung! Shut the hell up!", you whisper-shouted at him, throwing a rolled up napkin at him in punishment, "I never said it was about Chan."

"Please. Who else would it be about? Sure as hell can't be about your vanilla boyfriend. And anyone else like Mingyu or Wonwoo would be too obvious for you to be so embarrassed about it. It has to be Chan," Seungkwan butted in nonchalantly.

"I- It's- my boyfriend is not vanilla!"

"You didn't deny it! It was Channie!", Soonyoung was far too excited at having guessed correctly.

Giving up, and knowing you needed some external input on your predicament, you nodded in shame, admitting to your sin in order to maybe get some advice on the situation.

"What do I do? I ... I can't stop thinking about it. Fuck, I can't even look at Chan in the eye anymore."

"Was it good?"

"Soonyoung, stop! That's not the point."

"He has a point. Not really worth ruining your relationship over some mediocre head," argued Seungkwan.

"Shut up! It- Fuck, it was so good," you groaned into your hands in utter embarrassment.

"Dude I knew Chan would be good at head. It's in his eyes. I'm telling you, people with those big doe eyes are freaks in bed," Soonyoung couldn't seem to stop spewing his headcanon of Chan at you.

"Or at least dream-Chan is," agreed Kwan.

"What do I do?! It won't leave my mind. I- I've already tried fucking it out of my head, but even then-"

"Hold on. You had sex with your boyfriend while thinking about Chan? Does he know?"

"Soonyoung!"

"Man, he'd pass out if he heard that. Do you know how many time's he's walked us through his sex dreams?", cackled Soonyoung.

This obviously caught your attention, making you widen your eyes and fastening the speed of your heartbeat.

Chan had had sex dreams about you too?

I mean, it should've been obvious considering the amount of dirty innuendos and straight-up proposals he's given you these past few weeks, but you had never actually thought about it in depth.

Fuck.

Chan wanted to fuck you.

The thought made you gulp and press your thighs together, actions your friends thankfully did not catch onto.

"He, uh, he's told you about his sex dreams about me?", you asked with a complete lack of confidence in your voice.

"God, don't even get him started," grumbled Seungkwan, slurping his almost empty americano before continuing, "It's Hoshi who keeps instigating him into telling us every excruciating detail."

Soonyoung nodded in confirmation, "Dude, he gets nasty," he whispers as if it was a sin to utter out loud – despite having previously aired your own sex dream to the whole diner.

God, were you interested in knowing more. But you couldn't blow your cover. You were far too horny and pent up already. Hearing about how your sexy (yes, you were at the point of shamelessly admitting it) best friend giving it to you in the nastiest scenarios imaginable would probably make you combust in front of your best friends and every other unsuspecting person in the establishment.

With dry lips and wetness already gathering between your thighs, you simply hummed in acknowledgment and moved on with the conversation, eventually managing to change subjects without giving away your cover.

~

Never in your life had you ever had such urgency in getting home.

Upon locking your front door, you immediately ran to your bed, undressing yourself in the process and getting ready to rid yourself of the ache between your legs that had been bothering you since that wretched dream.

You knew that you wouldn't be able to satisfy yourself as well as you wanted without Chan's aid (you'd tried endless times just a few days ago), but trying was better than nothing.

Getting yourself started was easy. All you had to do was remember the very vivid image of dream-Chan slobbering between your legs, begging you to use his face however you saw fit and claim your orgasm as if it were a god-given right.

But imagination wasn't enough.

You had half the mind to call up Chan right there and then and crying to him to please come and take care of you. The repeated knowledge that Chan would likely come to you with no question nor judgement made the task of holding back even harder. It made you cry at the frustration your fingers were giving you; they just weren't enough. Not even after the endless attempts these past few days had you been able to calm the fire between your legs. The last time you saw your boyfriend – just after your damned sex dream – had been yet another failed attempt. It seemed like nothing could truly get you there.

That's when you thought of the perfect thing.

Chan always had the tendency of either taking you home himself or sending you a short voice message to ensure you had arrived home safely – always insisting on one in return. This message always contained Chan's raspy voice after a long day of shenanigans, usually calling you one pet name or another as he checked in on you.

No matter how ashamed you felt at it, the burning between your legs did seem to diminish upon turning up the short voice message he had left you just last week. His words, accompanied by his voice, did wonders for your imagination.

"Hey, babe", it had started, "Just wanted to check in on you and make sure you got home okay. Need you to send me a message back as soon as you can, yeah?"

This had been enough to start you up again, the usual 'babe' nickname and the soft command causing an effect on you it never had in all your years of friendship.

"You looked so pretty today," he sighed, "Did I tell you that? Need to be telling you that every day. You're gorgeous. Don't even know how such a pretty girl puts up with us," he chuckled.

Oh, Channie ...

He'd always been so sweet to you. Such a fun friend, but also such a sweet boy who'd always coddle you and treat you better than anyone else. You could almost picture him swooning at you as he reminisced on the pretty dress you'd worn that day.

You couldn't think of anyone else who thought of you that fondly. Yet you were currently too busy using an unsuspecting Chan to get off after days of being pent up due to that same boy.

"Miss you already, gorgeous. Should've taken you home myself, ugh," he groaned at himself, "That way I would've at least gotten a goodnight kiss," he paused, chuckling, "on the cheek, of course."

It was probably just your horny brain talking, but had Chan been in front of you at that moment, you would've done far more than just kiss him. You didn't know where all this sudden lust for Chan had come from, but that dream had come with an epiphany. Maybe you'd been attracted to your best friend all this time.

"'Kay, Imma leave you now, okay, princess? Message me back when you're ready for bed, alright? You know how I worry. Goodnight, beautiful. I love you," he ended the recording with a soft kiss.

The short voice message wasn't enough to work yourself up to an orgasm, so you revisited as many of his old messages as you could, recalling some specially soft ones he'd send you where he'd call you all the petnames known to man and praise you enough to make you blush.

You also thought about what Soonyoung had said, how Chan's dreams about you would get nasty. You thought of every nasty thing the man was probably itching to do to you. You thought of how easily you'd let him if he was here at this moment.

Throughout it all, you pictured Chan and the actions that would accompany his words if he were in the room with you. You imagined the soft touches and the praise he'd spew endlessly at you. The eyes full of genuine love – mixed with a little lust – that would watch you as you came undone.

And come undone you did. It wasn't as good as it would've been with the real Chan present and taking care of you, but it sure beat the multiple unsatisfying orgasms you'd had in the past few days.

"We broke up."

Those were your opening words upon approaching the usual table you shared with your friends.

This time Seokmin had decided to join.

"You what?"

"Because of Chan?"

"Really?!"

All responses were delivered simultaneously, making you groan as you sat down, knowing you were in for a lengthy interrogation from the three nosiest men you knew.

You covered your face in your hands and exhaled before unmasking yourself and facing your friends with seriousness in your demeanor.

"Didn't feel right when I kept thinking about Chan," you started, "He understood, which made it worse. Said he'd been too busy with work lately, was thinking of taking some time apart anyways."

It had been a few days since your wet dream about Chan. After your lonely escapade the night after – the night with the cursed voice memos – you had gone over to your boyfriend's place to end it. You hadn't hung out much in the past few weeks. There had been no spark for a bit. The goodness of your short-lived relationship was probably just the honeymoon period, which ended around the same time Chan decided to make his interest on you known.

It was all too much to deal with, so breaking it off seemed easier.

"Wow," aired Soonyoung.

"Yeah. Wow. How are you feeling?", asked Seokmin.

"I'm fine. Just, you know, feel kinda bad. I didn't want to be with someone if my heart wasn't fully in it," you mumbled, a little solemn.

"Does Channie know?"

"God, no. I've been avoiding him since," you eyed Kwan and Soonyoung, "uh, you know," you didn't want Seokmin to be yet another one of your friends to know about your sexual escapades in your slumber.

"Oh, you mean the sex dream?"

Your stare turned menacing, facing the only two possible culprits, "Who told him?"

"It was Soonie!", Seungkwan revealed immediately.

"Wait! No, I-"

"Did you tell anyone else? Oh my god, does Chan know?!"

"No! I only told Seokmin, I swear! He asked why we were meeting while Chan's working, so I told him."

"Don't worry, I won't tell. Scout's honor."

Seokmin held an innocent pinky towards you. Already done with the situation, you halfheartedly intertwined pinkies and moved on.

"So ... Channie?", Seungkwan asked once more.

"What about him?", you feigned curiosity.

"Playing dumb isn't gonna help things."

"What, do you want me to tell him about my dream?"

"That'd be kinda weird, man, I don't know," added Seokmin.

"I think it'd be hot."

"Soonyoung, shut up!", you told him for the nth time since the subject of your 'crush' on Chan had first come up.

Seungkwan side-eyed them before continuing, "No, but you like him, don't you?"

Did you? Did you actually like Chan?

Before Chan had showed interest in you, you had never considered it. Ever since you'd met him, Chan had always been nothing more than your best friend, your partner in crime. You had never felt as safe and comfortable with anyone as you had with Chan, and that was still the case. No boyfriend had ever made you feel as at ease as Chan always did.

His crush had brought out something in you. Had it been any other friend who suddenly revealed their feelings for you, you would've reacted in horror. But it was different with Chan. For some reason, you didn't feel put off by it, nor did you try to chase him away for his feelings for you. It wasn't one of those situations where the boy suddenly decides to pursue his girl-friend and ruins the friendship altogether. This had opened pandora's box for you, making you realize that Chan's affections would've always been welcomed by you.

Even if you jokingly rejected him or told your friends you had a boyfriend, it was all simply due to your moral compass. You weren't a cheater, so you couldn't take Chan too seriously even if you wanted to. But now you were single, and now you had to figure out if you really wanted Chan in the same way he wanted you.

"I know that I want him, but I need to make sure that I want him, you know? I'd never want to hurt his feelings or jeopardize our friendship just because I was horny one day."

"So you're scared it might just be that you're sexually attracted to him?"

"No, it's just ..."

"You want to know whether or not you like him and not just the attention he gives you."

It was surprisingly Soonyoung who had deciphered it.

"Y-yeah. Fuck. Does that make me a narcissist?"

"Nah. It's better to be sure. You've been friends with Channie since forever. It makes sense for you to wanna be cautious."

"You should probably stop avoiding him, though. He's, uh, starting to notice," revealed Seokmin.

"Yeah, he won't stop whining. Just put him out of his misery already," said Soonie.

"Okay, I guess I'll talk to him next time I see him."

You didn't really feel ready for it, but the time to confront Chan would have to come sooner or later.

Next time you saw Chan was actually far too soon for your liking. Just the following day you found yourself at yet another house party; a small gathering among your friend group and some other people. It wasn't anything too big, so you knew that you'd inevitably bump into Chan.

It had only been about a week since you last spoke to Chan, but that had been a week too long. Throughout the duration of your friendship, the longest you ever went without constant communication had been three days, which had been a total accident on both your parts. The two of you would at least text once a day, even coming to have an unbroken streak of endless texts.

Fuck, you missed him.

Chan obviously must've noticed your lack of communication these past few days. You weren't even sure why you had decided to keep him in the dark. It wasn't just the wet dream (which was still haunting you, but had moved to the back burner for now), and it wasn't your breakup either. You were just confused about your feelings for the boy, but punishing him by icing him out had been far too much. Now you felt guilty.

You felt extra guilty when you finally spotted Chan across the party, sitting alone on a loveseat while he attempted but failed at discreetly looking over at you. He looked like a wounded puppy as he did so, pout on his lips and furrowed brows. It made you want to kiss the pout right off his face.

It was easy to tell that he wanted to approach you, but was simply trying his hardest to respect the boundary you had seemingly put up out of nowhere. This meant that you'd have to be the one to talk to him.

Then you took action, throwing away the drink you had been nursing and walking over to him, ignoring his shocked expression when you wordlessly grabbed his hand and pulled him to an empty room in the shared house. You locked the door and turned to him, unsure on what to say first.

Chan was the now the one to surprise you, immediately trapping you in a bear hug and burying his face in your shoulder, loudly breathing you in.

He didn't let go for a couple of minutes, even nudging you to keep hugging him back when you went to pull away.

When he finally let go, you finally had the chance to look at the boy for a moment.

Yeah, you liked him.

You had missed him far too much to be able to deny it.

You liked Lee Chan, and you were ready to let it be known to the world.

But then he started speaking.

"I'm so sorry," he started, utterly confusing you as to what he could be apologizing for, "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, I, fuck. I must've crossed a line with my flirting, and I never meant to. You're my best friend, and I need to respect you, an-and I need to respect your relationship. I thought that maybe somehow I could get you to see me as more than a friend, but it was stupid of me to assume you'd drop your boyfriend just because your dumb friend suddenly had a crush on you – which, uh, isn't the case, by the way," he looked down, embarrassed, "I've liked you since we met. So much. I assumed Hoshi must've told you by now. Anyways, I, uh, I'm really sorry. I'll stop. I will never bring it up again, just, fuck, please don't be mad. I'll take anything you give me. If friendship is what you want then I'll be the bestest friend you've ever had, just-"

It was impossible to take his senseless rambles anymore. You were getting too emotional at the thought of having put Chan through this turmoil when you had spent the last few days tending to the ache he had caused between your legs and subsequently breaking up with your boyfriend in order to figure out your feelings. It made you feel equally embarrassed and ridiculous, yet the effects of your silence made you begin to tear up at the apologetic boy in front of you.

Interrupting him, you hugged him again, somehow even tighter this time. This thankfully shut him up, allowing his body to lose its tension and letting himself become limp in your hold.

After some more moments of silent hugging, you were the one to pull away this time, giving him a sympathetic smile as you raised a hand to caress his cheek. It made you soon the way in which he leaned against your palm and gave you the sweetest smile known to man.

"Channie, you did nothing wrong ... I'm sorry for cutting you off like that, that was so wrong of me. I should've talked to you and told you how I was feeling. I wish I was half as confident about my feelings as you are, but I just felt so-" you paused, not knowing what you were even trying to express, "a-and then I just started avoiding you to avoid my feelings all together. I'm sorry."

"No, you have nothing to apologize for," he put his hands on your shoulders to ensure you were understanding his point, "I should've respected your boundaries. I never even should've tried to pursue you when I know you have a boyfriend, it was so-"

"had", you clarified, shy.

"what?"

"I had a boyfriend. We, uh, we broke up a few days ago."

"You ... Fuck, was it because of me?"

His eyes were like saucers, but you could see a small hint of a smile that he quickly wiped off when he realized the context of the situation.

"I want to say no, but ... yeah, I did."

Still feeling unbelievably ashamed at the memory of what had first led you to consider breaking up with your boyfriend, – a stupid wet dream you still couldn't get out of your mind – you avoided eye contact. Now you knew that that had only been the catalyst of realizing your feelings for Chan, but it still didn't help matters much, specially knowing that Chan would find out sooner or later.

"God, I'm so so sorry-"

"Chan! Stop apologizing! It wasn't because of anything you did. I just ... I realized some things these past few weeks and .. I realized we weren't really right for each other," you took a breath, "Not when you were all I could think about."

"Y-you ...?"

"I'm going to be candid, okay? Just, please don't interrupt."

He nodded, giving you the green light.

"A little over a week ago, uh, something happened. And then I couldn't keep you out of my mind. I tried talking to the guys, I even tried using my boyfriend as a distraction, but nothing worked. I started avoiding you because I just felt so awkward realizing I was beginning to develop feelings for you. It was wrong of me, but I needed time. I broke up with him because it didn't feel right to be with someone else while you were the only person I wanted around."

Saying it felt like a breath of fresh air. Not only were you admitting it to Chan, but also to yourself. Your friendship with Chan had never been your average friendship. Even before he had decided to begin shamelessly hitting on you, he had always been the sweetest and most caring boy you'd ever met. Sending you voice memos every time you went home alone, always being in charge of getting your drinks, driving you wherever you wanted, being overly affectionate with you any time he felt you might've needed it. The boy had always been the perfect match for you, you just couldn't grasp it until he began to literally shove it in your face.

"What made you realize it?"

Not expecting him to question you, but rather just accept your sudden change of heart, you hadn't thought of how to explain to him that a sex dream was what had brought you to this epiphany.

But what did you have to lose at this point? Most of your friends already knew, and to be quite frank, you still wanted Chan extremely badly. Telling him wouldn't be the end of the world.

"I, uh, I had a dream about you ..." you muttered, eyes avoiding his own.

His already wide eyes widened even more, a smirk forming itself on his features as he tilted his head in question.

"Uhm, care to repeat that for me?"

"Chan, shut the fuck up. You heard me."

"I didn't! Just tell me. Please?"

With a sigh, you repeated yourself, this time a little more clear, "I had a dream about you."

"Uh-huh. What type of dream?"

"Chan!"

"Princess, please. I embarrassed myself for you for weeks. I pined for you for years. Just give me what I wanna hear," he pleaded, somehow cocky in the way he did so.

"Fuck, fine. I had a wet dream about you. I dreamt about you between my legs, giving me the greatest orgasm I've ever experienced and begging me for more. I dreamt of your pathetic whines while I ground my cunt on your face. And then I woke up before I could cum. I spent the entire day trying to get that feeling back but nothing worked, Chan, nothing. I couldn't look you in the eyes after that so I just avoided you."

Finally giving him the most candid version of the events made you feel a weight leave your shoulders, specially upon realizing that the boy who currently held your heart had been rendered unable to use this as ammunition against you as you watched his cocky expression turn into one of lust.

"Oh," he breathed out. Taking a few moments to regain his composure, he spoke up again, "W-was that it? Or do you, uh, do you also like me back?"

"I like you, Chan. So much. The dream was just what made me realize that I wanted you in every way imaginable."

A decisive expression now took over his face, nodding to himself before moving closer to you, taking up all your personal space.

"That's all I needed to know," he declared before claiming your lips in a heated kiss.

Chan kissed you with everything he had to give. The kiss immediately grew lustful, with Chan licking into your mouth for access the second you made the smallest sound of surprise. And, fuck was Chan a great kisser.

His tongue was practically making love to yours, rendering your legs weak and shaky. Thankfully Chan realized this, pushing you to the nearest wall so that he could continue to take over all your senses.

Scratching and pulling at his hair, you caused Chan to moan against your lips, only making you whine in return. Chan took this as a sign to move forward, beginning to grind his expert hips against your own. Already hard, Chan's clothed cock felt like heaven against your burning cunt. You had begged for a proper release for days, and you were now afraid that some light dry humping would be enough to take you there before you could finally relive your dream.

But did you care? Did you care enough to halt Chan's movements when they were already making your eyes roll back? Your body made the decision for you, pushing your hips against his own and making him release a gruttal groan against your lips.

"N-need you so fucking bad ..." he breathed against your lips, barely able to get a word out as you insisted of licking into his mouth as he spoke. This made him groan again, "Princess, please ... You're gonna kill me."

Pulling away, you grabbed his hands and placed them on your breasts, making eyed at him as you spoke, "Channie, just touch me. Don't care what you do, just ... just take care of the problem you caused."

He whined at the feeling of your body at his palms, immediately groping and feeling up every inch of your body before trapping your mouth in another heated kiss. His hands soon became too desperate to feel you through your clothes, carelessly unwrapping you from every piece of clothing he could. He left you in your underwear, having thrown off your dress and holding onto your hands so you could haphazardly kick off your shoes. Chan's clothes joined soon after, with his own hands throwing off all but his boxers.

Before he could claim your lips in a kiss again, you grabbed him by the hand, leading him to a nearby couch in order to sit him down. Sitting on his lap, you kissed him again and again, thoroughly enjoying how liberal his hands were in the way he touched you.

Finally throwing off your bra, you felt up your tits a bit as Chan watched you with a pained look in his face, mouth open and eyes glued to your breasts. His lips attached to your tits immediately after, going crazy in the way he suckled and bit at them.

"You're so fucking gorgeous," he mumbled against your tit, "Fuck, dreamt about you every night ... This pretty body and all your pretty noises. Can't believe I get to have you now," he kissed his way back up to your neck, hands never halting in their caressing of your body.

He pulled away to look into your eyes – though his eyes kept dropping to your lips, "You're embarrassed about your dream?", he chuckled, "Want me to tell you some of mine? Hmm?", he began to manhandle you, positioning you so that you could lay horizontally on the couch and he could lay above you, "So fucking nasty, baby, it'd make you blush."

"Channie ..."

"Gonna do so many nasty things to you. Want me to whine for your pussy? Oh, baby ... Gonna beg for pussy every day, shit," his hand went down to rub your wet cunt through your panties, "'sso wet," he groaned, "Gonna lick it all up again and again. Need to suffocate between these thighs," he made his way down your body as he said this, eventually coming face to face with your cunt.

Leaving a kiss on your weeping cunt, he licked through your panties, causing you to arch your back for him and throw your head back. The warmth of his tongue could've been enough to claim your orgasm, but somehow you persisted.

Chan became desperate for you quickly after that, removing your panties and lifting your thighs so that he could finally bury himself between your legs the way you'd been wanting him to for so long.

"Channie, fuck!," you cried, pulling at his hair while pushing his head further against you.

"Use me. God, just ... Grind that cunt against me ..."

And so you did. You took advantage of your pretty best friend's desperation for you and employed your own desperation for him. To any outsider, you must've looked like the image of depravity as you used Chan for your pleasure, but Chan was just as depraved. You could feel the couch shake from under you, indicating the way in which Chan ground against it as you claimed your orgasm on his tongue.

Riding your high was an incomparable experience. No one had ever made you feel as much pleasure as Chan had. Not even dream-Chan lived up to reality.

You could've sworn you lost consciousness for a few moments after your high, feeling completely weightless when it had finally died down. Your ability to think only came back by the time Chan had climbed back up your body and kissed at your chest once more, smiling at you when he finally reached your lips.

Instead of sharing a sweet moment with him, you claimed his lips once more and licked every last bit of your essence from his mouth. He groaned and allowed his tongue to mingle with yours in such a nasty manner that it made you blush when you remembered that Chan was nothing more than your best friend less than an hour ago.

"Let me fuck you," Chan pleaded when he finally managed to pull away from your greedy lips.

"How do you want me?", you asked as your lips tried to reclaim his yet again. Fuck, he was such a good kisser.

"Fuck. I get to choose?"

You couldn't help but be endeared by him. Also incredibly turned on by how much he clearly wanted you.

Without another word, he repositioned you so you'd be on your hands and knees, running his hand down your back to press the arch of your back a little deeper. He groaned at the sight of you arching your back as deliciously as you could, wiggling your ass as you looked back at him with a cheeky smile, lip trapped between your teeth.

"I've been waiting for this for years, shit. I'm not gonna last."

That made you giggle, continuing to press yourself up against him to get him to break.

"Just fuck me, Channie. Promise it's gonna feel so good."

"Yeah, baby. Gonna fuck you so good."

His tip then finally made contact with your cunt, being dragged up and down your folds as you whined at the feeling. He finally began to penetrate you after becoming too desperate himself.

"You're so fucking warm ..." he breathed out.

Sighing out at the fullness, you pushed back against him, encouraging him to begin fucking into you. Chan took no time in following your lead, adopting a desperate pace almost immediately.

The sounds of skin slapping took over the room, only accompanied by sighs and moans of pleasure from you or Chan. The occasional whiny praise also left his lips every so often. The needy way in which he fucked you had you reeling. Chan had the ability to make you feel extremely desired and like getting to fuck you was the greatest privilege known to man. The way his hands caressed you and his pleas for you to 'please push it back on him' made the experience all the more dreamy to you.

Dream-Chan truly stood no chance to the real one.

"Princess, gonna- fuck, gonna fucking cum. W-where can I?", he grunted from behind, his thrusts somehow becoming even more animalistic.

There was no moment of hesitation in your voice – though shaky from the way in which Chan rutted against you – when you gave him the green light to cum inside you. His groan upon your confirmation only made your back arch even more. Chan's want for you continued to make you feel lightheaded.

Halfway through his own orgasm, Chan triggered your own through the way his hand dipped under you and toyed with your clit. After only one day with you, your best friend already knew how to get you there immediately. He talked you through your orgasm, giving you endless praise about how beautiful you were, how he didn't deserve such a pretty bestie to fuck so good, how he'd beg for you day after day if necessary.

Upon your highs wearing down, Chan managed to reposition you so you could lay next to him. (though almost entirely on top of him) He held you close to him, soft in the way he ran his fingers up and down the length of your arm, enjoying the goosebumps forming. His hand would eventually go over to your face and caress your cheek while his nose rubbed against your own. Treating you like a doll, Chan made you swoon yet again.

"I love you."

Then the world stopped.

"I'm sorry I didn't say it before. It wasn't just a crush. I'm in love with you. And ... and I want you to be mine. Will you be my girlfriend?"

It was all whispered against you, with a soft smile accompanying the whispered words.

"I love you too," the words left your mouth so naturally you were sure they'd been stuck there forever, "Yes, Channie. I'll be your girlfriend," you couldn't help but smile as you said those words.

"Fuck, thank God," he breathed out, hugging you to him, "I never would've gotten over you if you said no. The guys never would've heard the end of it."

He made you laugh, as per usual.

You knew things would only change for the better, so you weren't scared about the change in dynamic that was to come from letting Chan out of the friendzone. All you felt was excitement to finally be with him without guilt.

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content: established relationship, chan's pov, banter, smut, oral (m receiving), mentions of lingerie, teasing, dry humping, riding, etc.

wc: 695 (teaser); 1773 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

Chan had waited for this moment for years. The moment he finally had you all to himself and the moment that would start the rest of his life with you.

Sleeping with you last night had somehow surpassed his craziest of dreams – and he had dreamt about it a lot.

The feeling of your soft skin under his fingertips, the way you moaned against his mouth as his tongue suckled on yours, the sight of your bare body, the feeling of your hands caressing every inch of his body, the taste of your wet cunt ... fuck. He could go on forever reminiscing about you and how obsessed with your touch he had already become.

It had only been a bit over a day since he had woken up next to you on that couch. Granted, the sleep had been slightly uncomfortable, but he had gotten to feel your warm skin against his own as he slept, so it had been worth it.

After some sheepish reaffirmation of your feelings for one another, you had redressed and left the shared house, pinkies intertwined as you went home. Sadly, you had busy days, so you weren't able to see one another at all throughout the following 24 hours. But! You had agreed to see each other tonight for a quiet dinner at Chan's apartment – courtesy of Mingyu's cooking.

Opening the door to his apartment, Chan's chin practically hit the floor when he spotted you in that dress.

Chan had seen you in all types of getups throughout all his years of knowing you. He had obviously seen you in the prettiest of dresses, the tightest and most sinfully tailored pieces. But nothing compared to the pretty little thing you were currently donning.

It was a black slip dress. It wasn't too tight nor too loose. The fabric barely covered his favorite parts of your body, making him reminisce on how they looked without anything covering them at all. You were also shamelessly donning the few hickeys he had left on you just one day ago. Chan was convinced you'd been sent on this Earth to ruin him, to make him a shell of himself and rid him of any ability to act as a functional human being.

The dinner went quite well. You and Chan were far too used to each other for it to go anything but perfect. Your usual banter was present, though Chan now had the privilege of running his hand up and down any sliver of skin he could reach as you teased him about one thing or another. He enjoyed the innocent touches he could give you without any sense of guilt you might be taken by some loser who didn't deserve you. The right to touch you was now entirely reserved by him, just as it should've always been.

It was all perfectly innocent until it wasn't.

Eventually moving to the couch to entertain yourselves with some streaming service, you cuddled against each other. This was an ordinary occurrence between you even as friends. Sure, the cuddling was now a little extra close – with you practically sitting on his lap – but it wasn't anything too intimate so far.

It seemed like this wasn't enough for you, though. It didn't take you too long to move onto his lap, now sitting on top of him while his arms wrapped around your middle. Chan chose to just follow along with whatever position you wanted to cuddle in, just happy to be there at all. Your hands would play with his own, clearly not attentive to the movie at all.

Innocently at first, you rubbed your own hands up and down his arms. This later came to you leading his hands to rub up and down the expanse of your thighs, coming up high enough to lift up most of your skirt. This then evolved into you dipping one of his hands to rub against your panties.

Chan's eyes rolled back when he felt the warmth of your cunt under his hand, already moist and ready for him. You kept pressing his hand against you, so Chan took the hint to play with you.

...

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[cherry-pop-elf]

Warming Up The New Client

Fred Weasley x Reader

Sum: Was another one of those little bets you and Fred did. You lost, but you are kinda the biggest winner between the two of you. Especially when one of the Weasley’s business partners come in to discuss important things. Let’s see if he can keep his head straight

Warnings: 18+, cock warming, blow jobs, semi public, kinda cracky because not everything needs to be a porno you gotta laugh, accidental choking, worried boyfriend because whoops this has become a sitcom, after care. Lowkey tho any fic you’ll read from me will have it, unless stated otherwise. HEALTHY AND REALISTIC SEX

“MR WEATHERBIRD! What are you doing here?!” Fred would panic, as he would force his chair to push into the desk. Was followed by a thump, as your body hit the back of the desk. Hardly any space for you, and his legs, in the confined space.

Why were you under his desk, and between his legs? Well you lost a bet. Was a harmless one. Just those lazy Mondays, at the shop, where you both needed something to help stimulate the day. A bet where it didn’t matter who won or loss, because there weren’t really any losers when the fun is the game.

Your prize for losing was to give the winner a blow job. Nothing too crazy. That is until unaware company arrived. That being a man that the Weasley twins were meant to do business with. Seems like George must have missed the man. Well, he arrived via fire place. George wouldn’t have seen him arrive, unless in the office with you two.

“Is now a bad time, Mr. Weasley? I figured Mondays would work best for you. Tis a joke shop, after all. The slowest day of the week, as your largest income bracket is through the school children. A Monday morning felt the most reliable to arrive.” Damn his logic, that was what Fred thought. He had a point.

“No no! It’s fine, you are right. Just surprise, that’s all. Take a seat. Let’s talk!” He would grin his award winning smile, as you remained stuck in your hiding place. Left with a choice to make. Stop what you are doing, or see how far you could push the button. Well, you married a Weasley. What’s a little bit of risk?

“Wonderful. We have much to discuss.” Boy was this going to be boring. You knew it, Fred knew it, but hey. You are certainly going to make it more enjoyable. Or worse. Either way, it’s gonna be fun.

As the older gentlemen began his garble, you were busy with your own garbling. Letting his cock press into your cheek, as you tried to find a way to move your head. You didn’t want to just keep thumping your head on the wood. That’s not fun at all.

You were shifting your head all over the place, as you tried to get comfortable. Made for your boyfriend to struggle with paying attention to the boring work jargon his business partner was making. Was certainly difficult to make sure he looked like he was listening, and not currently getting sucked off. Certainly difficult indeed, when those freckled cheeks of his were rosey.

“You seem a bit warm, Mr. Weasley. Are you feeling well?” The older gentlemen would ask Fred. Ever the charismatic man he was, he was oh so quick to think on the fly. Lie out of every situation. Such a charming gift to have.

“Fever fudge. You know how my brother and I are. We always self test our products. That way if anyone gets hurt, it’s us. We only ever field test with mostly our siblings. We know how they would react to what we make, but not to strangers. No. We don’t act like it, but we try and keep things safe.” That seemed to win over Mr. Weatherbird. Charmed the man as much as he could charm a gaggle of girls in a quidditch stand.

The devil on your shoulder was going to be the death of you, and him, with what it was whispering to you. Wanting to try and make his facade crack somehow. Just a little bit. Enough to make him sweat under the pressure. Just a little bit. You don’t want to actually put him at risk of anything, but gambling is gambling. Win big, or die trying.

As you finally managed to force Fred’s chair back, you could properly move your head. Made him need to sit awkwardly, to not make it appear that he was pushed back. Didn’t want the man to get suspicious. Seems he wasn’t, as he was busy with papers. Gave Fred time to look down, and see your devious face. Stuffed with his cock. Was so arrousing, you could feel his cock twitch on your tongue. With fresh flavor for you to enjoy.

He would shoot you a glare, only for the man to look back up. Forced him to meet the clients eyes, as to try and act as chill as possible. Never did he think he would want to do paper work right now. Anything to not just cum down your throat. George was the moaner, not him. But you were seeing if they were identical in a few other ways.

That was until Mr. Weatherbird started to lean over the desk. Just trying to be polite, and show him something on the papers. Had Fred quickly slam himself back under the desk. Forced you to take his cock all the way down your throat, and gag on it. Had you cross eyed, and trying so damn hard to not gurgle on it. Guess you weren’t quite enough.

“What was that noise-?” “What noise?” “Sounded like someone was choking….” Fred, ever quick, was able to come up with the perfect lie. A lie melted in truth, to keep the seal on the little secret at hand closed.

“We have a product here called puking pasties. A pastry used to help kids throw up. For one reason or another. Not to mention we have many things that stink so bad you wish to obliviate yourself from the memory. Just kids being kids. George has it under control.” He would brush off the worry, as you tried to find your ability to breathe again.

Was rather difficult, as you were now trapped entirely under the desk this time. How your head was pressed against the desk, and held no way to move your head. Just gagging around his cock, with drool soaking all over your clothes.

The more you tried to steady yourself, the more his cock twitched in your mouth. Feeling your tongue trying to adjust itself. How your throat kept clenching and your lips desperate to move.

Before you could make any other noises, he was quick to wave his wand. Had his gramophone kick to life, and play that loud swing music those twins loved. Nothing like some big band to liven up the scene. Along with hide more of your gagging, and sputtering, in the hopes to finish this meeting.

“That’s better. Now, as we were saying-“ The droning was starting to get to him. All his mind could think about you was choking on his cock. Had him aroused, but also very worried he was hurting you. It’s not hot if it’s not consented on. Was an accident, yes, but he loves you and wants you safe. He had to figure out how to get you out of there, before things get worse.

“Say uh. Mr. Weatherbird, um-“ Wow was it getting harder to talk. Wasn’t helping that you were still scrambling. Your hands reaching into his lap, to try and push him back some. When trying to reach the front of his chair, you got a full grab of your favorite stress toy instead. Had his eyes go cross, for a moment, as he had to bite his lip. Trying so hard, but he wasn’t going to last much longer.

“Oh, I know it’s alot. You are so new to this world of business. I respect it. You two are stars, I can see it. I’ll do my best to help guide you both. You two are already doing so wonderful. Truly business savvy. Your parents must be so proud. Here, I’ll leave these papers for you and your twin to discuss over. Just send an Owl if you have any questions.” He gave a tip of his hat to Fred, as Fred himself did his best to give a flustered nod.

Mr. Weatherbird would give a wave goodbye, and vanished through the fireplace. As soon as he did, Fred pushed himself back. Made for a rather pornographic sight, and sound, as he popped his cock out of your mouth.

You were just covered in your own drool. Face more flustered than his own, with your lips swollen from being stretched for so long. How you were panting hard from the stress of the scene. It was all too much. You were just so perfect in his view. He just had to add to it.

He barely had time to close your eyes, as he leaned back. His cock just spilling his cum all across your face. Across your drool stained chest. You were just covered in so much. You were surprised he even had so much in him. Guess this was some life or death edging, so to speak.

With your breath caught, it was his turn to pant. Just leaning back in his office chair. His body slack, as he was seeing stars. That release was so needed, and so intense. He swore he pulled his back out from it.

“That could have gone better…Or worse. Depends on if we look at this from a positive view or not.” You would joke, as he gave a dry laugh. Happy to know you were ok. You knew he was worried, you could just tell. There was something sweet about it. That even with such heat of the moment he was looking out for you.

You would let him collect himself, as a cleaning charm solved all your problems. You also were polite to help out his dick away for him. After care goes both ways, after all. When he would come back to reality he would take care of you. You knew that. Until then, you’ll make sure he is cared for to.

Once he had his time to no longer sweat himself a new pool, he would pull you into his lap. Just cuddling you. A means of apology, without saying it. You knew he was trying to not have you humiliated. It wasn’t intentional in any way. The way you would play with his hair conveyed it. Both of you using your own silent little love language.

“So….Whens your next meeting?” The fact you asked that made his head spin. You wanted to do that again? That risk? The choking? The fear? The adrenaline? The insanity of it all?

“…….Thursday, after lunch….” He’s a Weasley. They were all adrenaline junkies. That’s just one of the many things that made you love him. Love him, kiss him, and bump your noses together. His adorable bird nose, with yours.

“You are such a minx, and I LOVE it.”

[ruoshik0]

DP x DC: The al Ghul twins but with a twist! P2!!

Training, as it had always been, was tiring. Add on the fact that now, he was at least a meta-adjacent, his training regime was updated to accomadate that too. Which is annoying.

Actually, Danyal meant he hated his life in the League of Assassins. Relearning all he did back when he was a child, training like a madman and rekindling his ‘kill as fast as possible’ style of fighting, manipulating and experimenting with the Lazarus waters (It stunk. It stunk so much that Danny just couldn’t even be in the same room as it. Ugh, why was his life so fucking hard), and tinkering and engineering with gadgets whenever possible.

Danyal realizes just how much he had it easy back in Amity. The amount of free time he had, how much fun just letting lose and have nice kiddy brawl with ghosts, puns and snark, and… acting.

It had been a months since he returned. Only about few days till his seventeenth birthday. The day he plans on meeting his brother’s new family and Damian himself. In those months, he had stopped denying, letting himself acknowledge that yes, he did start caring. And he had started caring too much. It’s been a pain the unlearn all of it. And as much as he was Danyal, he was also Danny just as much.

He can be serious when he wants to be. But sometimes, an easygoing smile and mischievous glint in his eyes felt… better. It felt like he was normal again.

Normal felt more like home than whatever he had been before that.

Now, graduating from tutors and what was basically the league’s version of homeschool- he is very smart thank you, it’s just that Danny wasn’t supposed be as smart- his schedule had opened up significantly.

Which meant more training and now, lessons on business and how to deal with people and stuff related to leading the League and shit.

And perhaps this is also the best time to mention this. His coronation or something had been… delayed. Seeing as he was away doing a covert mission, meaning his education in the league was far behind. Which aslo meant, time is no longer a resource he has an abundance of.

Someone please kill him all the way. Paperwork as a monarch in the infinite realms is so much better than whatever the fuck he is going to learn in the aforementioned business shit and how to rule assassin cults. Scratch that- paperwork as a monarch so much better than the League itself. Why didn’t he kidnap Sam and Tuck with him when he returned?!

Danyal felt like crying… jokingly, though. Taking them here would just result in them getting killed or them getting forced to become assassins themselves.

Sighing, he resumed tinkering with the fun little gun he had been working on since last week.

He just hopes he would be able to say what he wanted to Damian… (and of course, terrorrize Batman and his army of children! It’s gonna be so fun!)

Invisibility and intangibility together was already a deadly match up to any living being. Which is the reason why literally no one at the dining table could notice him next to the big bat himself (Though Danny was pretty sure Signal- Duke Thomas- was sweating because of him. So… he could see his aura even if Danny was invisible).

Danyal had to say, he didn’t have any plan in his mind. Mostly because Danny didn’t plan and Danyal had grown used to not really having that in his head. He considered just leaving Damian an encrypted letter, but really, where’s the fun in that? (Danyal prioritized efficiency first and foremost. It seems everyone he met and befriended back in Amity had more influence on him than he thought)

So now, he was left debating whether or not he should just appear standing on the table doing jazz hands. He would most definately get killed by one of them if Danyal does that. But dying works in his situation.

It wouldn’t make him cool though… Then, an idea struck in his head. What if…

Damian, all things considered, was having a good time. His birthday was going great even. It’s just that at times, his mind would wander back to the sibling he had left behind. Sometimes, he would wonder if Danyal had returned from his mission. Or if he decided he wanted to live there- in Amity park- for the rest of his life.

Damian hopes he did.

He knows that nowadays, he couldn’t stand to see an indifferent expression and an emotionless stare on Danyal’s face. Because nowadays, his own semi-permanent scowl had melted into something else. Something less haunted. He couldn’t face that he went on to live his best life while leaving Danyal all the responsibilities Damian was supposed to shoulder.

So it was a pleasent surprise when he realized that the Danyal in front of him- the intruder who infiltrated the manor, who appeared out of nowhere next to father, who has a handful of father’s hair in his fist, who had, also, pulled father’s head back harshly (Damian almost wondered of Danyal was here to take him and the rest of the Bats to the other side)- was smiling. Smiling like he was here to torture them and have fun while doing that but… for once, Danyal was smiling. Openly.

The Bats didn’t even take a second to stand up and immediately engage in combat with the intruder. If it had been anyone else, facing almost all of the Bats at the same time would have been a death sentence.

Yet, in Damian’s eyes, Danyal almost looked like he was having fun. Easygoing smile, the mirth, the- the everything. It just screamed relaxed and having fun. Despite himself, Damian didn’t actually get up from his seat. He observed the person flinging his siblings into walls. He observed his actual brother.

Kick, dodge, punch, open palm strike, a tornado kick, flinging father to the wall this time, using Brown as a meat shield before tossing her towards Cain.

Unlike what he was so sure of, Danyal wasn’t here to assassinate the Waynes. He, at most, was here to have a good brawl. But that didn’t make sense. It really didn’t. Why was Danyal here? Why did he make himself known? No one came after Damian to take him back after the first few assassins because there was still an heir. A spare who blended in with the shadows better than even father. As far as he was concerned, Danyal had only gotten at hiding better at hiding. So why? It was all confusing and it made Damian angry and he just wanted answers and what else was he supposed to do? Damian did the only thing that came to mind.

He screamed for everything to stop. He slammed the table and sent a League worthy glare towards his family. All of them. Which included Danyal and father and Alfred and- everyone.

(Damian will not admit to being nervous. No never.)

They had listened. Everyone freezing in their spot as they all stared at Damian with shock. They would have died by now if Danyal decided to take advantage of that. The rest becoming aware of their mistake and sending weary glances toward their opponent. Not that Damian cares much about that currently.

“Danyal. Explain why you are here.” His voice was low and rough. It was a tone he only used in the early months of his arival here. A tone the League forced him to talk in.

Currently he needed answers and asking directly always worked. He was extra cautious in not letting anything known. While he hated to hide himself from Danyal, he didn’t know the Danyal in front of him well enough and any show of to a League assassin meant death. A gruesome one.

And really, he expected many things in response. A harsh laugh in his face or the ever present indifference that plagued Danyal when he was young. Maybe even immediately getting maimed by his beloved brother. A brother who was supposed to protect him from the shadows.

What he didn’t dare expect (yet still hoped for) was Danyal’s face and stance and the way he held himself- all visibly softening. A smile that seemed so geniune, something Damian never saw himself, something looked so foreign on the face he and Danyal shared.

“I’m here to congratulate you, akhi" And the tone he heard, it made his eyes burn. Danyals voice had lost its harshness. It had different tones- so unlike the emotionless monotoneous voice he always heard. It had all the gentleness of of the world. And Damian dared to hope. Hope that Danyal is free from the League like he was too. He really did. Because by now, he had thick and big tears tailong down his cheeks. His eyes burned.

And he was finally happy. Happy to have finally gotten his sibling back. The one before Danyal encased himself in harsh cold ice seemingly over night one day. Damian finally felt like he got his sibling back.

Danyal was now fretting over him, expressive in a way Damian hadn’t seen in more than a decade. Danyal was a phenomenal actor. And his cold hard demeanor was a facade Damian had witnessed getting built. Finally it had all melted away. Finally he can hug his brother tightly and say all the things he hesitated to say.

Finally, they can be regular brothers now.

In the back if mind, he noted that his father and family was sending confused glances to each other. He couldn’t care less about that.



[savannahsdeath]

hiii i love ur fics ive read them all i ws wondering if you could like do a 18+ with a extremely jealous ellie??

thank you sm ily😭💞and yes ofc i tried my best!!

JEALOUS!ELLIE WILLIAMS X READER

mdni please<3

summary: els didnt like some of the messages she found on your phone..

warnings: 18+!! smut, jealousy(obv), language

writers note: sorry it took me so long to post it😓ive actually written it like one day after you requested but i had already some posts planned and i didnt want to change everything now💔

You came back after a meeting with your co-workers to see your girlfriend waiting for you. As soon as she heard the door open, she leaned on the doorframe of the living room, looking at you with an undefined expression.

"You're late." She mumbled, her voice sounding mad but the way she planted wet little kisses all over your face said otherwise.

Ellie's closeness wasn't just out of greeting, but out of an act of possessiveness and jealousy that you grew accustomed to in the relationship.

You sighed and looked at Ellie for a second, before saying, "Yeah, I'm late. Sorry." You gave her a quick kiss too while looking for your keys. "Meeting ended late." Your voice wasn't as cheery as it usually is.

Ellie then rolled her eyes. "Did you really had to stay that long?" She muttered loudly, trying to hide the jealousy that was so clearly showing.

"It was important." You said, finding your keys and pulling them out of your pockets. You didn't sound upset because it was hard to be upset with Ellie. She was like a little kitten who was possessive and needy at times, but still oh so sweet.

Ellie rolled her eyes again but smiled, and she leaned onto you with her arms wrapped around your waist in a hug. This was where you felt safe and home.

"C'mon," she said softly, "let's go to bed."

You nodded. "I'll just go to the bathroom, 'kay?" You asked, giving her your bag, like you always did after work - she'll lug it upstairs for you.

"Of course, darling." Ellie smiled as she took the bag from you, her expression now fully warm and affectionate. You were lucky to have her, and you knew that.

You went to the bathroom and started to wash your face and brush your teeth, taking a moment to yourself.

After a few minutes, and a good splash of cold water on your face, you exited the bathroom and made your way upstairs. Ellie was waiting for you in the bedroom.

She was doing something on your phone, which didn't surprise you - she was probably just going through your gallery, staring at your pics. You had nothing to hide anyway.

She often did that, smiling widely and mumbling things like 'my wife's so pretty'.

This time, though, she was silent and had a frown on her face.

"Who's Steve?" She asked when she saw you.

"I don't know." You answered honestly. You had no idea who is she talking about, probably a random boy following you.

"You two texted." She passed your phone to you with an opened short conversation. He replied to your story, complimenting you, you thanked him, that's all.

"Yeah, I remember now. What about him?" You lied down next to her, curiously staring at the screen, expecting some more messages to magically appear and explain the situation.

Ellie sat on top of you, playing with the hem of your shirt. "He's hitting on you." She said as she got more bold, now not only fingers but her whole hands sliding up and down your waist.

"I don't know him. He just texted me once." You shrugged, reading the conversation over and over again to find which part made your girlfriend act like that.

"Yeah, and what does his text say?" She smirked, not in her usual innocent way, but in a 'think twice before you answer' way.

You scrolled to his first message and read it out loud. It was simple "stunning💞" in a reply to your story - a photo Ellie took of you at the beach a week ago but you forgot to post it before.

"Exactly. Now, what are you wearing on that pic?" Her smirk widened as she started to undo the button of your jeans.

You didn't pay much attention to her moves, focusing on her orders. "A swimsuit. I mean, we were at th-"

She shushed you, pressing her lips against yours. She pulled away after a good minute, leaving you breathless. She forced the phone, which slipped off of your embrace while she kissed you, back between your fingers.

"Stop explaining yourself or I'll think you actually have something to explain. For now, I'm just asking simple questions. Do I look like I'm mad?" She held your chin with one of her hands, while the other was unbuttoning your formal-looking work shirt.

She really didn't look mad, but you knew it's just her ability to camouflage.

You let out a relieved sigh as soon as you catched your breath. "Oh. Right. Look, it's not a big deal, I told him I'm-"

"Busy. Yeah, I know." She cut you off. "Pretty pathetic excuse."

"What was I supposed to say?" You barely managed to say as she started tracing a path of messy, wet kisses from your neck down your body.

"Are you seriously asking me that?" She laughed and you could feel the vibrations in her breath caused by her sudden outburst on your stomach, right were she stopped to answer you.

You stayed quiet, not wanting to make it worse or seem even dumber in her eyes than you already do, if that's even possible. She noticed your confusion and didn't pressure you to read her mind.

"That you have a girlfriend. That she told you to post it. That she took this pic." She made a pause after every sentence to cling her tongue, followed quickly after with her mouth, to your core, watching your body slightly squirm. You didn't even realize when she arrived that low, and when she took off your underwear, but that wasn't important anymore. "That it was her idea to go to the beach. That she helped you pick your swimsuit. That she saw you in it first..."

"Els... Stop..." You moaned out, feeling jealous of how unbothered she looks while you were already soaking.

"Stop what?" She laughed, sucking on your clit while taking off her rings.

This simple, two-words question, turned out to be more difficult to answer than you'd thought. Actually, what did you had in mind while telling her to stop? Hers 'that she...' calculations? Her hand placement, which had a bruising grip on your thighs? Or her tongue, that had definitely affected you the most, making you drop the phone, screen-down on the bed, and hopefully hold into the bed sheets?

"That's what I thought." She said before you could think of a correct answer.

She had a whole scolding prepared in her mind, but you wasn't honoured to hear it as she had a better plan. Still, she wanted to talk to you through it, watching you do your best to answer or just understand her while she makes you look and feel like a total mess. In order to not leave your cunt hopelessly tremble, right after she took her tongue off of your clit, she pushed two fingers into your entrance.

You gasped, squeezing your thighs together, which made Ellie laugh. It was a normal reaction - her move was unexpected - but your eyes rolling back always got a reaction out of her.

"Back to the topic, want to tell me why you decided saying 'you're busy' will work?" She smirked, her fingers pumping in and out, clenching and unclenching, in a painfully fast and rough way. Her thumb rubbed your clit, replacing her tongue.

"I... If I-'d" You stuttered, taking a deep breath after every letter you managed to say.

"Y-Y...You what?" She mocked your mumbling, her smirk turning into a smile.

Your back arched, making your hips move higher, but Ellie held them down with her free arm. Even though her nails were trimmed short, so she won't have to worry she'll hurt your pretty cunt, you swore you feel them digging into your waist.

"That hurt-s..." You whispered, but you weren't really bothered by it, even though your eyes were starting to get teary.

"Yeah? Don't worry, I'm sure Steve would make it hurt more... if you'd give him a chance, that is. But you didn't and won't." Her free hand let go of your hip, taking your phone and staring at the unlocked screen, clearly thinking or considering something. "I know you're mine and you know that too." She finally concluded, but right before she put the device down, you got a notification.

She mischievously smiled as she saw who's the message from.

"You got yourself a fan." She laughed as she opened your conversation with the reason of her jealous behaviour. "'Still busy?' and a fucking winking emoji. Jesus, that's just embarrasing."

You couldn't help but admire how good her attention span was - one hand making you a whining mess, other typing on your phone, eyes barely looking away from you (only to read his text, she typed hers blindly), mind probably racing with ideas to make him, or you, or both of you, regret your little conversation. She was obviously overreacting, but then again, your profile was full of Ellie and there's no way he missed all the cute posts about her.

"Should I show him how 'stunning' you look right now?" She chuckled and shook her head. "Nah, this view is for me only."

"What d-id you do?" You stuttered, trying to take your phone back, but she placed it out of your reach and aggressively grabbed your wrist.

"I liked it more when you moaned instead of asking questions." And just as she said that, she got faster again, making your cunt tighten even more around her fingers. Even though it may seem she's not paying much attention to how precise she is, she kept violating your sensitive spot, not missing it once.

Your head hit the pillow, leaning back on it and exposing your throat from which many signs of your pleasure came.

She was wondering again, her eyes looking you up and down before finally staying at your face. Her smile faded as she looked at you for a few moments. Then, she picked up your phone and passed it to you, following by simple but stern words; "Block him."

Your hands were shaky, so instead of pressing the block button, you almost accidentally called him a few times.

Ellie's smirk came back as she looked at you obediently fulfill her requests. She knew she could make you do anything she wanted now, but she didn't feel the need to. The only thing she needed was you with her - her only.

She took the mobile from you, whispering soft 'good girl' as she saw you succeed to do what she asked you to.

"Next time, if someone bothers you, just tell me straight away." She patted your cheek, her focus going back to what's her right hand doing.

This boy didn't bother you at all, he was just nice. But you knew what Ellie meant - he bothered her. Without arguing, you silently nodded, knowing this is the last time you posted a swimsuit photo on your account.

[angelisverba]

achilles heel

in which y/n gets herself into another precarious situation and wants her dealer to help her, and harry can’t help but feel conflicted about how much he wants her

read part one here

word count: 14k

pairing: plug!h and y/n

warning: bad trip! peer pressure, drug coercion, drugs, mentions of bullying, sexual content!

author’s note: there aren’t any facts to back up the use of any kind of sexual enhancers, so much of this experience is improvised and not actually something that would happen irl in terms of science. love you! 

Two slow, torturously long weeks pass- one in which he was out of business entirely trying to stock his inventory up again- before he hears from her again. In the middle of the night, it’s beginning to become a pattern for them. He only hopes that this time, it’s not for an asshole group of people.

His bohemian dream of a room is upturned, messy, as he’s been a grump about not seeing her. There’s shirts strewn everywhere, his bed is a rumpled mess and he wishes that it were because he had sex in it instead of restlessly sleeping. He’s coming out of the shower with a white towel low on his hips. There are clouds of thick steam coming out from his open bathroom door and while a majority is from the hot water he hoped would soothe his tense body, there's a bit of thicker, headier smoke from the skinny spliff he hotboxed while in the tub. 

And it hadn’t worked for shit. Because he was still cranky, still restless. His fingers were itching to do something, and if he hadn’t just smoked weed, he would be in his garage, throwing around weights like a madman to try and get himself tired. Sadly, he wasn’t even fucking horny, so jerking off wasn’t an option. 

Sidestepping his sweatpants by the edge of his bed, Harry grips the thick of the fabric at his crotch and reaches for a pair of clean underwear from a drawer at his bedside table, furrows his eyebrows at the box of condoms stashed in there, and pull on white boxers. He throws the towel at the end of his bed and lays back with his arms splayed wide, sighing dramatically. He felt deeply sorry for himself. 

Y/n was probably never going to talk to him again because the last few times they had seen each other, Harry was a complete dick to her, acting every bit like the asshole drug dealer that had a criminal reputation. God, the girl was probably scared of him. He fucked his all-

Ping!

This phone went off with a notification. The same tone he had assigned her, and Harry’s body lurched off the bed. His arms swept the expanse of his bed, ruffling his duvet in search of the device. 

Ping!

It went off again, and the urgency in which he was searching increased. Where the fuck was his-

He found it when it thunked onto the floor, and with shaking hands, he unlocked it. 

Y/n: Hi, Harry! 

Are you available for delivery at the moment?

Of course he is. Always, for her. But he didn’t type that back, obviously. He had to be cool.

Harry: I am. What can I get you?

The gray dots appear instantly, and he gets another text shortly after. 

Y/n: Do you have any brownies?

He had been to a frat party earlier in the day in which a group of senior guys had taken some pot brownies off his hands. Before confirming with her, he double-checks his inventory on the notes app folder  he has just to keep track of stock. 

Harry: I have half a dozen left tonight

Should he have added a smiley face? No, that would have been creepy right?.... 

Y/n: Perfect :D ! I’ll take five, please! 

Harry: No problem. Can I have the address, please?

She sends it not even a minute later. All concerns regarding driving a vehicle while high unethically fly out of his mind because honestly, he wasn’t even high anymore. Not even feeling it. She was only twenty minutes away, ten if he didn’t pay attention to laws.

Harry: I’m On my way! 

Y/n: See you soon!

Yeah, fuck the laws.

***

He makes it in 8 minutes. 

And something about this house doesn’t feel right. 

He didn’t realize it until the houses started looking nice and the parked cars on the side of the street started getting more expensive than the address she had provided him with was one on the wealthier side of town. He knew of a guy that lived here who everyone talked about because his method of acquiring money was sketchier than Harry’s, and well… that said a lot given that Harry sold drugs for a living.

The end of the driveway that he parks on is wide enough to be a two-way street. One of the lights flickered on by the motion sensor as Harry took his helmet out and shook his hair back. In his rush to get here, he hadn’t put on a shirt, and with his leather jacket left unzipped, his tattoos were on full display. The moonlight gleamed on the ridges of his abdomen, casting shadows across the markings on his skin. He was warm despite the chill in the air, and the cool drift of the night wind on his muscles was a welcome feeling. 

Harry just didn’t realize how… devilish he looked. He appeared every bit the bad boy ready to sweep you off your feet in the summer, and the serious expression on his face added to the mystery. Wondering if this time she was able to hear his motorcycle from deep inside wherever she was in that mansion of the house, Harry kicked his stand down, hung his helmet on the handlebar, and took his phone out to let her know he was here.

Harry: I’m outside

Grey bubbles pop-up, squiggling like a little wave. And then…

Y/n: Be right there!

All of the breath in his lungs vacates his chest, and he gets warmer than he already was. Pacing the short lengths of his motorcycle, he wonders how he may get more nervous to see her every time he sees her. He never used to be this way, not even with a girl he wanted to talk up at a bar. There was a confidence within him, this shine that sprouted from knowing that he knew he was the shit, and he was going to use that to his advantage, to make a girl blush and stutter. Instead, she was the one to turn him inside out. He forgot all about basic manners around her. He forgot how to smile without questioning if his smile was wonky. He thought-

“Hi, Harry!”

He thought she looked so fucking sexy tonight. 

Coming from the front door, y/n is a wispy, gauzy mirage. Her feet are wobbly, and there’s a glass tumbler in her hand with a toothpick-skewered olive. She’s smiling so brightly at him, and this unrestricted happiness at his appearance alarms him. Where is the timid girl who speaks to him with a voice barely above a whisper? She must be drunk he thinks. 

An itchy feeling he can’t shake off overcomes him because the girl is wearing a lacy slip dress that is so sheer, he can see her pink undergarments underneath. A white cardigan slides off her shoulders and hangs on to her elbow like a satin bow slipping loosely from a gift. He can’t decide if he wants to tie her back up or unravel her. 

She runs the last few steps to him, and either she miscalculates her stop, or trips on a pebble because suddenly, she’s in his arms and he’s holding her upright. And he’s also breathing heavily because a rush of blood has made its way down to his cock and he knows she can see it pressing through his jeans and against her belly if the way her eyes go round is any indication. 

Her drink slips from her hand, and shatters at their feet. The loud scattering of glass makes her jump, and an apology is clumsily stumbling from her mouth while she tries to pull herself from his embrace. Harry, however, tightens his hold. His fingers squeeze at her waist, and through the lace of her dress, he can feel the overlapping fabric of her panties. Without saying anything, he lifts her and takes a few steps to the side before setting her down away from the hazard. 

“What-” her brows furrow, and her head tilts to the side. She isn’t rushing out of his arms now.

Interrupting her, Harry explains, “y’were about to step on the glass.” 

“Oh,” y/n is back to whispering as her eyes travel all over his face, “thank you.”

With her in his arms, Harry has forgotten how to act. His mind is blank as a sheet of paper, and his lungs are expanding and contracting but oxygen isn’t really reaching him because he smells something sweet combined with alcohol on her warm breath. He sees how y/n’s facial expressions resemble that of a guppy fish, and he realizes that maybe he should let her go but he can’t because… because her fingers are shifting around his arms and she’s kind of shifting her weight and writhing and Harry still has a fucking boner so this is all-

He steps back, observing her shiver, and clears his throat. “Of course. Are you…are you cold?”

“Cold?” she asks. Her voice is silvery like the incantation of a church bell and he wants to fall to his knees are revere her, to beg for forgiveness, for her to cleanse him of all his sins. The night air has turned him into some kind of animal, he decides. The moon has transformed him into the hungry, howling wolf who will only be silenced by knowing her in the most carnal way. Meeting under the blanket of darkness has decided their fate. 

“You’re shivering,” he states, voices unwavering and factual. That confidence he was missing before has somehow found its way back. Like tectonic plates, the tension has shifted in his favor. Harry gathers the courage to fix the cardigan on her shoulders. 

His hands graze the cool skin of her biceps, and he doesn’t miss the way she textures with evidence of her intimidation. The way her breath stops altogether and he mumbles under his breath, “Just fixing y’up, darling. Y’can breathe, m’not gonna bite,” and she drops her arms at her side to let him help her, and then…

He feels the thin, sharp glide of her fingernails at his sternum. How can a single touch be so erotic? His jeans are too tight over his bulge, and fighting a groan, he exhales deeply, looking up at her to find her eyes droopy, staring at his butterfly tattoo. Her mouth moves around the shape of pretty before her eyes flicker up at him. They both freeze. Prey and predator, caught before the deadly pounce. 

But y/n breaks their eye contact. 

Harry drags the fabric up so it sits properly on her shoulders, and slides his fingers down to the front, so he can begin with the first button. His fingers drag unnecessarily like syrup on the skin right above her slip, and her audible gulp along with her choked, thank you check him back into his manners. She might have toyed with him, albeit unknowingly, but he welcomed it. He doubted that she was 100% sure if she wanted that reciprocated, so he stopped. As much as it hurt him to do so, he stopped.

At the last button, he reluctantly steps back, “All done, don’t want to get sick now, do you?” 

And he manages a smile. It’s small, with just a bit of a cocky gap between his lips to white teeth. His hands slip into his front pockets, pulling his jeans forward subtly to give his dick some breathing room. He feels branded where she touched him, that sliver of skin hot with burning desire. Visions of them together flash behind his eyes like bits of a dream he’s trying hard to remember.

“You’re right,” she mumbles, “thank you.” Y/n wraps her arm around herself and can't seem to make eye contact with him.

The rational side of him that’s drowning in his tunnel vision reminds him that he’s there to do something (deliver drugs), so he moves around to the compartment and pulls out the paper bag. This time, it’s decorated in a field of smiling, dancing daisies sprouting from the bottom of the bag. “Here are your brownies,” giving her the bag, he laments that he’s going to have to leave her soon. 

“How much do I owe you?” Y/n blinks up at him like she’s just barely waking up. Like she’s trying hard to stay focused, just like him. But that would be silly, Harry thinks, because there’s no way they share the same feelings. She only touched him because she’s drunk, or tipsy, and he’s just a drug dealer, and no matter how much of a boner he has for her, his dreams of rutting over her like a dog in heat aren’t going to come true. She’s too delicate for him.

He feels shitty taking money from her, but that is his livelihood, and chances were the douchebags buying from her probably threw more money at her than necessary given how rich they were. So, he tells her the total, and he hands him- just like he expected- crisp bills.

“Thank you,” he says, taking the money from her and shoving it into his compartment. His legs make no move to straddle his bike, even though that’s what his brain tells them to do. They’re not really listening to him though. And y/n stands them holding the bag, staring at the shattered glass and worrying her lip between her teeth. She’s not in any rush to get back inside, so Harry asks her a question- something that’s been on his mind ever since he left her the last time- to keep her out a little longer, “h-how was it? Last time, I mean. Smoking with those people?”

The girl straightens at the memory, suddenly energized. “Oh! I didn’t actually do it. They tried to get me to, but I didn’t in the end.” 

Jerking his chin towards the bag in her hand, “Do y’plan on eating some of these?” 

Y/n shakes her head, “Not really, I have work tomorrow. So does everyone else but,” she shrugs, pursing her lips a little and looks over her shoulder at the house. The relatively quiet house. “I already drank a little more than I should have.” 

“I see.” Nodding, he’s left with no other choice but to reach for his helmet to put it back on. It’s time to leave. For the life of him, he can’t seem to figure out why such a sweet girl would continue to choose to hang out with people like this. Who drink and do drugs recklessly. He was concerned for her safety, and he made a mental note to ask Mitch about it. He wasn’t anyone to tell her what to do. 

He wishes he were, but he wasn’t. 

“Well, be safe, okay? Let me know if you need anything.”

“Thank you, Harry. I’ll see you,” and she waves at him with a small, shy smile. The cardigan is already slipping off her shoulder even though it was buttoned up, and she turns around to walk back into the house.

Harry’s finally gotten to dozing off when his phone rings. 

Blindly, he slaps his hand around and curses whoever is on the other end of the line for interrupting his maladaptive dreaming about y/n. He got home grumpy, slamming doors behind him and stomping around his own home. Feeling sorry for himself, he had turned on his Sade playlist and allowed her smoky voice to lull him to sleep. Creases had decorated the space between his thick brows, his pink lips literally turned upside down and occasionally he mumbled curse words at himself. In effort to relieve his own stress, he turned on a lavender candle, and it burned dimly on his bedside. 

“Yeah?” He rasps sleepily into the phone, annoyance dripping from his voice. 

There’s a couple of sniffles on the other end. This gets his attention, his eyes snapping open as his ears strain to listen, and then, “H-Harry?” 

Was he still dreaming? Harry bolted upright from his bed, dragging a hand over his face. Was that actually y/n’s weepy, crying voice leaking through his speaker? He recognized the normally sweet voice, but instead of shy and timid, it was shaky and sad… maybe even a little panicked. 

“Y/n?” Harry asked, spiking up in volume as a million-and-one scenario of her in danger played out in his mind. “What’s wrong?” 

She hiccuped, “I-I was- Everyone was- They gave me a piece and said I should- But I didn’t want to and they- I don’t-” The poor girl was making no sense, and couldn’t seem to keep track of her thoughts, whether it be because she was too frazzled, or her irregular sobs stole the rest of her sentences and she would start new. The fact that he has just woken up, remnants of sleep leaving him more and more by the second, didn’t help either. He had to get her to calm down somehow. 

“Sweetheart,” He interjected, repeating the endearment twice before she stopped talking long enough for him to get his word in. “ Listen to me… Take a deep breath, listen to my voice.” 

Y/n made a long, keening noise, and something stirred his gut like the whirls of dark waters in turbulent seas. This wasn’t normal. She wasn’t herself, which only left one thing, “I’m trying but my skin feels weird and-” 

She was having a bad trip. 

Those fuckers have coerced her into taking something, whether it be the brownies he sold her, or some other drugs they had in the house. Y/n had taken drugs against her will, and she was stuck in a place where she didn’t feel entirely comfortable with anyone there because these were the same people that bullied her at her workplace. The situation she was in, and the simple fact that they did not respect when she said no made his blood boil. He felt like a caged cat, pacing back and forth, tail swiping low on the ground. 

But his next thought cowed him.

If the drugs she had consumed were his brownies, did that mean he was partially to blame? He was responsible for there being something to press on her, to begin with, wasn’t he? He delivered them into her hands, which she then transferred to her party, and they turned it around on her. Harry was at the start of all of this. 

He sat up, and ran his hand through his hair, swallowing back the sour taste that started at the back of his mouth and twisted his chest. Pushing all of it aside, he focused on her, “I know darling, I know. Close y’eyes. S’gonna be okay, y/n. Close your eyes.”

Rough, uneven breaths reverberated through his speaker, and he realized she was trying to calm herself. Harry wanted to scream and punch something. This is his fault. She was having a bad trip because of him. There were times when he was feeling generous and upped the milligram ingredient in his pastries, and he can’t remember if he did that this time but regardless, he doesn’t think he’s ever felt he’s ever felt this guilty. He could have said no, when she texted him. Or not respond at all. But he was selfish and wanted to see her. This is where his selfishness got him.

“M’kay.” She responds a little more sure, but it isn’t enough for him. He started this mess, now he has to fix it. He gets out of bed again, in such a rush that his duvet ends up strewn on the floor, and he reaches to tug his recklessly discarded jeans over his long legs. He yanks a burgundy knit sweater that he finds- also on the floor- but he’s not cold. He’s sweating with anxiety, and the sweater was just for her benefit. What if y/n is cold again? Harry has to be better not, he can’t fuck up with her anymore like this. He was going to take it off again as soon as he saw her and be shirtless again with his leather jacket. 

 With the device pressed between his shoulder and ear, he buttoned up his pants and shoves his feet into the first pair of shoes he found, “Y’got your eyes closed f’me?”

“Yes, Harry,” she whimpers again, sounding so unsure, so small, and fuck, the crack down the middle of his heart grows. Closing your eyes while high was scary, especially if you were having a bad trip, Harry knows that having a handful of negative experiences himself, but it was the one thing he could think of right now. To get her to focus on his voice rather than anything going on around her. Wherever she was. 

“Good girl. Now just listen to me, okay,” walking out of his room, he swiped his keys off his kitchen counter, and snagged his leather jacket from -surprise, surprise- off the floor right before entering the garage, “Where are you right now?”

“I’m… I think I’m in a bathroom,” y/n peeps a response. 

“Alright, good. Good, sweetheart. Now how much did you take?” Putting the jacket on, Harry turns the key in the ignition and straddles his bike. He presses the button he keeps on his keys for the garage door, and walks his bike out. The street lamps in his neighborhood are on, illuminating patches of the concrete like polka dots. 

There’s some noise in the background. It sounds like knocking and the call of her name. “M’not sure… maybe… maybe half? They’re knocking on the door, Harry.” 

She’s so scared. For the first time, he realizes that she doesn’t trust anyone there. That’s why she was calling him. If there was, she would be resting her head in their lap, and talking things out with them. That’s what you do when you’re high. And this was her first fucking time doing any kind of drug? They made her take more than what she was supposed to. 

“All at once? Don’t listen to them, sweetheart, focus on me.” This time, the timbre of his voice is livid. He didn’t take kindly to these kinds of things, and he was going to find some way to get back at all of them. 

“Yeah, I took a bite only but Alana said I would be a party pooper if I didn’t eat more, so I did because everyone was watching.” There’s more noise, yelling. The knocking gets louder.

“Fuck!” Slapping his hand against his helmet, Harry tilts his head back and wills himself to calm down. He couldn’t drive like this. 

She gasps, startled, “Did I do something wrong? Oh my God, am I going to die? Harry, am I-”

“Shh, no. No, y/n. Everything is going to be fine. I’m on my way, okay. Everything is going to be fine. Can you set a timer for eight minutes on your phone, and walk outside when it rings?” He nears the end of his driveway, shaking his head at his lack of restraint. He had to hold it together for her.

“Yeah,” she responds.

“Perfect, I’ll be right there. I’m coming to get you, okay?” He’s firm in his delivery, so she doesn’t have any reason to doubt him. 

“Okay…” her single-word answer drags out, and he waits for her to say more. “Do you have to hang up?”

“I do, darling. My motorcycle helmet doesn’t have a Bluetooth mouthpiece, so I won’t be able to hear you. It’s only eight minutes, I promise.” He decides not to pay attention to how easily the endearment terms are rolling off his tongue, and to the sure-ness in his sternum that was missing at the start of their meetings. 

“Alright. Bye, Harry.” 

He doesn’t say bye, because it isn’t one. “I’ll see you in a little bit.” 

***

On his five (FIVE!!!) minute drive to y/n, full of felonies and annoyed car horns, Harry decides two things. One, owning a motorcycle is probably the best decision he’s ever made because it allows him to do things like this, and two, he’s come to the conclusion that he no longer cares for social formalities, and he’s going to… honor his cravings as long as y/n lets him. He knows that the moment he gets there, he’s going to want to coddle her, tug her to his side, and hide her inside his jacket as much as he could, like a bear with food in the winter. Besides, it wouldn’t be so bad to provide the feeling of safety if she needed it. In fact, he was eager to. He decides that just for today, it’s okay. 

Because he gets there three minutes earlier than the time he told her, so even though he doesn’t have to, he rushes to park his bike, swinging off of it before it’s even rolled to a complete stop and jogging up the long driveway to wait by some bushes near the window. He was partially obscured from the front door, and he wanted to stay that way in case Y/n wasn’t the first person to walk out. 

Sweat coated the back of his neck while the rest of him was ice cold. Looking each and every way, he took off his jacket and slipped off the knit sweater to slip it over her head as soon as he could. Harry listened intently, the ragged sound of his own breathing filling his ears as he tried to pick up on any noise that might indicate trouble, but all he heard was faint chattering and the occasional bout of loud, loopy chortles. 

Momentarily after, those voices get louder, some of them aggressive, and there are sounds of movement. The heavy pattern of feet moving quickly, the scratch of furniture on the floor. Someone- a female- is asking where someone is going, and Harry knows it’s y/n. Running to the door, he makes it just as it swings open, and a very red-eyed y/n stands there, one hand on the door with her eyes on the floor. She’s mumbling, something over and over, and he thinks one of those words is his name. 

He’s reaching out to encase her in his arms when she blinks a few times, slowly, like she's just waking up, and her eyes are dragging up her body to register his face. 

Tilting her head to the side confusedly, she steps out, closes the door behind her, and mumbles, “Harry’s waiting for me.” 

His heart melts and he feels the bursting of a thousand suns in his chest. Smiling down at her invertebrate state, with his eyes softening and a gentle caramel-like baritone streaming through the rough in his voice, “I’m here, darling. Come with me.” 

Poor thing is so out of it, her eyes start to water, her chin trembling and her shoulders beginning to shake with the rattles of oncoming sobs. Had he spooked her? Her eyes were puffy and hooded, but he knows that doesn’t mean she can’t see him. Y/n is probably just overwhelmed, he thinks. She’s out in the dark and cold, high, and he’s a tall, scary figure looming over her. Voices inside are getting closer, their sentences running over each other so that he can’t really understand what they’re saying, only that they sound upset. 

Ignoring the rumble that is bound to get to them, Harry kneels down to her level and takes hold of her cold trembling hands in his large ones, bringing them to his chest to get her to focus on him, “lovie, s’me,” he pleads for her to recognize him, “I’m Harry, I came f’you like I said I would, y/n.” 

“Y/n!” A man inside, short and skinny but snooty looking with a sharp, shark-like face stalks towards them. His parade of three- two blonde girls and a dark-haired guy- follow behind him. They all have glasses in their hands. One of them had a cigarette. “What are you doing?”

At the sound of her name, y/n’s eyes shut tightly, and her chest rises quickly with sharp breaths that escape her mouth. Dropping her head, a long whine seeps away from her like a sticky substance, and Harry wants to wipe it all away. He’s not sure why he’s reacting this way, or what he should do to help her, because he’s had bad trips but they’ve all been hallucinogen-based.

“Baby-” 

“Y/n” the asshole with the dark hair calls her name so arrogantly, Harry can’t help but wonder what they’re like sober, “who is that? Will you come back inside? We’re about to start playing pass-blow.” 

They’ve interrupted him twice now, and with every second that passes, he gets huffier. Frustrated. Angry. Because he’s just trying to talk to this angel and they’re overwhelming her. Y/n is whimpering now, her hands moist in his, and she’s sniffling every few seconds. 

“Y/n,” he tries again to get her to look at him, to say something. He doesn’t want to act inappropriately, and with her consent already being disregarded once tonight, he’s doing everything in his power to get her to speak what she wants. 

With glassy eyes, y/n dazedly stared at him for a moment. Her expression was stuck between confusion and sadness, her lips downturned and her brows furrowed, “Wanna leave, H.” 

Harry nodded at her, “Okay, we can leave.” Then he stood up and grabbed the sweater over his shoulder, “Put this on first, lovie. It’s cold.” Slipping it over her head and helping her stick her arms through, he tugged it all the way down, near to her knees, all the while ignoring the group that started and whispered behind her. When he was done, he pulled her under his arm and walked in the direction of his bike. 

All of two seconds passed before an agitating, grating voice interrupted them, “Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” 

Harry can’t take it anymore. Placing his hand at the back of her head to cup her to his chest while he turns around to spit out a response at this douchebag, he takes deep breaths and tries to focus on her comfort. He tries to focus on the warmth of her breath against his chest and the way one hand is wrapped around his wrist, her fingers drawing loose circles on the tender skin, and the other is clutching his shirt tightly. But he feels that he has to say something, in some weird ‘marking my territory’ kind of way.

“Fuck off, asshole! You’re not getting shit from me anymore,” Y/n jumps in his arms at the tone and volume of his voice, and the wimp shrinks back, too. He mumbles something about it ‘not being fair’ like a whiny child and turns around. Harry gently removes her hand from his wrist so he can wrap it around her shoulders, and starts walking down the pathway back to his motorcycle, whispering, “C’mon baby, walk with me. Do you want me to take you somewhere? I can call an Uber? Sarah’s house? We can go back to my place, too. Y’name it, love, I’ll do it for you.” 

“Okay.” If she’s surprised at his sudden softening, she doesn’t show it. Hell, she’s probably too out of it to do anything but appreciate anyone that is considerate to her current state, given that she was hanging around assholes who were making fun of her while she was having a bad trip. 

They reach his bike, and Harry guides her by her shoulders to sit with her butt on the side of his seat. He crouches down in front of her, and wraps his hand on the back of her shins, grasping firmly to give her some kind of sensation to ground herself on. The loopy look in her eye that was there when he first arrived has drifted away like mist in a breeze, and she’s looking at him a bit more clearly. 

“You still doing okay?” He asks, trying to catch her eyes but y/n is fiddling with her fingers and looks a little… frustrated? “Y/n? Can you tell me what you want to do, love?”

“M’sorry,” Her lower lip wobbles and there’s a small tremble in her chin. Her eyes, when she finally finds his, are watery, and it makes Harry’s heart pinch. He wants to hold her until she’s okay. “I know we don’t know each other that well, but can we... go back to your place?”

He rises then and cups her face in his hands to ensure that she’s looking at him. A little voice in his head is telling him that he’s being too touchy and needs to tone it down, but y/n can’t seem to keep her hands off him. His elbows are warmed through his jacket by her nimble fingers. 

Cooing at her almost, “Hey, s’kay. Y/n okay. No crying, alright? I’m happy that I could be here to help you, okay? Of course, we can go back to my place, as long as you’re cool with it. Are you comfortable riding on my motorcycle right now? I can order an uber if you aren’t.”

 “Yeah. Yeah, I think so.” Nodding, she sniffles and looks into his eyes finally. They sparkle underneath the light, like stars are trapped in her pupils, and the sight takes his breath away. She’s still whispering, but it’s no longer as panicked and short. It might just be the brownies wearing off, or her high calming down. 

“Right, then.” Before letting go of her sweet face, he swipes his thumbs along the apples of her cheeks in a soothing motion. He walks around to the back of his bike and unlocks the compartment to take out a spare helmet. Holding it up, he gestures for her to tilt her head towards him, “safety first.” 

“Your eyes are pretty. Like that thing that makes Superman weak.”  

“Kryptonite, baby?” He secures the helmet on her head and makes sure it fits by tilting her head this way and that to check for wiggle room. When he’s satisfied, he raises the glass panel and murmurs, “and yours are prettier than mine.”

“Mhm,” she blinks blearily up at him, and his heart expands three times its size in his chest.  “And you really think so?” 

“I know so.” They share a small smile, and Harry’s nose is pink from the cold and the warmth of her gaze. He swings a leg over to straddle his bike, and scoots forward to make space for her, and pats the seat behind him.  “Come sit behind me, love.” 

Y/n grabs the hand that he holds out for her, and clumsily takes the seat. 

“Now hold on to me. Hands around my waist,” There’s a strange pitch in his voice, and he has to clear his throat before speaking. Y/n listens to every word he says and places her hands on his waist so lightly, they might as well not even be there. The touch, as innocent as it might be, makes him squirm, and to hide it, he grabs them, and brings them around so she can splash her own fingers at his belly button. “Tighter, sweetheart. I don’t want you to slip off. If you don’t want to see, you can press your face into my neck, okay.” 

“Okay,” she peeps. Harry pats her hands and turns his key in the ignition. 

“Ready?” With his ankle, he kicks the stand up, and looks over his shoulder to check in on her. The muscles in his stomach are doing a strange tightening and flexing because they don’t know how to act normally under her touch.

“Yes.” 

She squeezes her arms tightly around his waist, and she can feel her face pressing into his back as he starts his engine to take her home.

*** 

“Who were those people?” 

It seemed as though removing her from the situation (Harry hates even thinking about the word because it wasn’t a situation, it was a fucking catastrophe that the poor little thing had to go through what she did) had been the best thing to do. From the looks of it, y/n was having a pretty normal high now, asking him if he had anything to snack on that was sweet and tart because she was hungry and her mouth was dry. 

He kept himself well stocked on berries and fruit for this exact reason, so while he stood at the aisle in the middle of his kitchen cutting strawberries into nifty little hearts and tossing them into a bowl with freshly rinsed raspberries and blueberries, y/n sat on the barstool, watching him and humming a little tune. She was much different from the way she had been fifteen minutes ago, when they had just walked into his house, blubbering about how she was so sorry that he was losing sleep because of her, and how she still didn’t feel right. It took ten minutes of holding her in his lap on the couch (he still felt overly warm at having her so close to him),  shushing and cooing at her, letting her know that everything was alright while stroking her hair, and another three before she stopped crying, and let him know he had a nice voice that tickled her spine and that she had the munchies. 

Not that she called them that, of course. Harry doesn’t think she had ever heard the term, given how she knows fuck all about drugs and being high, just said “I’m hungry, h. Do you have anything tart and sweet? It feels like there’s a dragon in my belly.” 

So he chucked, rubbed her back as he slipped her onto the spot next to him, and let her know that he had just the thing, and that he would be right back. But that didn’t stop her from trailing behind him like a duckling imprinted on her new human, pitter-pattering all over his tiled floor.

He hopes that she doesn’t feel like he’s prying, because while he was curious to know what compelled her to keep that kind of company, he wanted to know anything about her. This just seemed like a good segway into her. 

Y/n is bobbing her head side to side to keep time with the cat clock he has up on the wall. She’s matching pace with its swinging tail, and clicking her tongue every second, pausing only briefly to say, “my co-workers,” in a chipper tone. 

Casually, he hums, “The ones that bully you?”

“Yeah!” She’s quick to respond, and quick to realize what she confirmed. Meaning she also realized Harry knew something she had never told him about, and this confuses her. Snapping her head away from the clock, he watches as her shoulders droop and she takes in what he said. The gears were turning clearly on her face, when finally, she spits out her question warily, “Hey… how’d you know that?”

Harry froze mid-strawberry heart. He couldn’t exactly say that he had been asking Mitch about her, and that had told her about her relationship with everyone at work because then that would make him seem more like a creep and less like a love-struck infatuated fool,  but he also didn’t want to lie to her completely. He had to stick with a little white lie,  “umm, Sarah mentioned something about observing shitty things happening at work, and she mentioned your name.”

“Oh,” y/n’s lips form a little pout, “Are you mad?” When those words come out of her mouth, the possibility of him seemingly being mad at her starts overwhelming her senses, and she starts sputtering again, “I’m sorry- I’m just- I feel off, I-I shouldn’t have eaten that brownie. I’m sorry. You probably think I’m a wimp.”

With sympathetically pursed lips, Harry shakes his head and gently soothes her worries, “I’m not mad. Y’just having a bad trip, sweetheart. It happens sometimes, even to me. When you’re not in a comfortable environment, it happens.” He finishes with the final strawberry slice, and slides the bowl across the way for her, “this is for you, should help with the munchies. Want some water?” 

“Please and thank you,” she mumbles around a bite of pink fruit. Sliding a glass across the table, Harry stands across the island to watch her. Y/n hand one hand wrapped around the small bowl, and the other holds fruit to her pouty red lips, swollen by the assault of her teeth. A trail of juice glistens down the side of her finger, and he watches, transfixed, as a pink tongue flicks out to lap up the mess in one, two, or three, tiny licks. A thick glob of saliva collects at the back of his throat because she's moaning, too. Little satisfied hums of pleasure and barely audible sounds of suction don’t escape him. 

Blood rushes to the center of him, tenting his pants and he has to go somewhere because fuck she might see it if he has to get close to her. 

Clearing his throat, Harry averts his eyes and tries to find somewhere else to set his eyes. Anywhere else because it’s so easy to picture his the ruddy mushroomed head of his cock pressed against her mouth like the tip of the strawberry heart, glistening with the moisture of precum and strings of her saliva as she wipes away his mess with her tongue like an eager little puppy. 

What was wrong with him? She needed his help, and had turned to him when she needed him. She had already had people pouncing on her, she didn’t need someone else chasing her skirts. 

“S’good, Harry,” y/n gulped down the last few pieces, and Harry blinked. Hard. “Can I have some more?”

There was a wide, lazy feline smile on her mouth. She looked… hazy. A bit sweaty. Disheveled.  Y/n looked freshly fucked, and stray drops of fruit around her mouth were making it so incredible hard for him to breathe, “no more lovie,” he managed to say, “or you’ll get a stomachache.” 

“Okay, H,” y/n yawned, unfazed by his rejection. Unaware of how crazy Harry was about her right now. His composure was fraying by the second. His mind played visions of them together like little prophecies, his tongue licking a stripe across the side of her face as he pounded her from behind so hard her eyes teared up. Her nails left little marks on his back from where she tried to grab leverage to bounce faster in his lap. Her skin dipping where Harry pawed at her to bring back against his dick. Fuck, he had to go into the restroom and tuck his boner into his pants. 

“Sleepy?” He rasped, voice trembling, eyes glued to her glassy doe eyes, “come, I’ll show you to your bed.” It was easier to be quiet and gentle with her. A calm version of him meant a restrained version of him. Clean as opposed to filthy. Good instead of bad. 

Her bed was really his bed. In his hurry to angle himself in such a way that she won’t see his raging erection, she forgets the state of disarray his bedroom is in. He walks slowly so he can hear the pitter-patter of her feet trailing after him, and stops at his door. Opening it, he inwardly cringes at everything inside. Blankets strewn all over the expanse of his mattress. Untucked and unaligned. One of his pillows on the floor instead of on the bed, and a rolling tray with crumbles of weed and baked mango bits on his bedside table. 

Harry rushed to that first, not wanting her to see anything else related to drugs. So much for a first impression. What a way to enforce the bum-drug dealer stereotype. 

“Promise m’not this messy,” he grumbles, picking up loose t-shirts and sweaters off the floor as he goes to turn on the lamp (swipe the tray away before she has a chance to see it), “it was a rough night. Was having a hard time sleeping.” 

Y/n squeaks behind him and he turns. She’s still standing by the doorway, “t-this is your bed?” 

Oh, God, she hates it. Harry starts swiping blankets off the bed to remake it for her. What was thinking, giving the sweet girl a messy bed?.“Yeah. I know it’s a little messy but I promise the mattress is comfortable. I bought it last year because I was having back problems a-”

“Where will you sleep?”

He starts tucking cover on the edges of his mattress, trying to be quick about it so she can see it’ll be neat for her. “On the couch, lovie.” 

“B-but… this is your bed?” y/n poses it like a question, but Harry can hear the guilt in her voice because she would be taking his bed. 

“I know that,” smiling softly at her, he shakes out and fluffs the pillows. “But I want you to sleep here instead. It’s much better than the couch.” 

“Are you sure?” Her fingers tangle at her navel.m

He nods and tucks the used blanket under his arm to take to the couch with him. “More than, sweetheart,” Looking at her attire, he pulls open his drawer and grabs some items for him and a few for her, “want to change into something else or is that okay for you? Can give you a sweater or a t-shirt.” 

Eyes lighting up at the large black shirt, y/n reaches out and points to it, “Can I have a shirt, please?” 

“When you ask so nicely, how can I say no?” Harry doesn’t mean for it to come out the way it does. But it happens, low and gravelly like the drag of a big cat’s tail on a cave floor. He sees the way her cheeks burn with his effect, and his cock throbs in his pants. He needs to get out of the room.  “There’s a restroom down the hall if you have to go, and an extra toothbrush in the cabinet. I’m gonna sleep right outside, so let me know if you need anything, okay?”

Y/n nods, “Okay.” 

The moment he closes the door slightly behind him, his hand clutches his ground, shifting it sideways so he’s not pressing up against the zipper. 

It was going to be a long night. 

***

Harry wakes up to the sound of mewling. 

Which is strange because he doesn’t own a cat, and high-pitched whimpering sounds are coming from… his bedroom? They’re muffled because his door is half closed. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes- if you can even call it that, he was tossing and turning because he couldn’t focus on sleeping knowing the object of his main thoughts is only a few strides away- Harry swings his feet off the side of the couch and pushes off with his knuckles. The sweatpants he had on dragged down low on his hips, the slant of his Adonis belt, and the thin skin right above the base of his cock visible. Sleepily, he tugged them higher and pressed the door open to check in on y/n.

And he felt his heart stop in his chest at what he saw.

Y/n was writhing in his bed, the sheet tangled between her legs and she was naked. Her face was flushed with tears, her chest choked up with sobs she was trying to keep down by biting on his pillow. Her hair was wild from her erratic movements caused by… well Harry didn’t know what. 

He rushed to her side, “Y/n! Y/n, baby.” 

A gasp wrenched itself from her chest, eyes were blown wide so that he could see how red they were, swollen at the waterline. She yelped like just his touch hurt him, and after removing his hands to ease her pain, Harry frantically ran his gaze all over her body, looking for anywhere she might be hurt. To see if maybe she had had some kind of reaction to the drugs she had taken. 

“What is it, love? Talk to me,” he whispers, not wanting to scare her even more. His thick brows are furrowed heavily, eyes heavy with concern and a touch of sleep. He had never felt so helpless before, at a loss for what to do. He wanted to cradle her close to his chest and rock her sweetly until her crying stopped. 

Y/n keened, whiny and long, “I’m sorry, Harry.” 

“Why are you sorry, lovie? Tell me what’s wrong so I can make it all okay,” he rubs a hand across her head, featherlight but enough to brush the hair away so he could see her clearly. She turned to him, following his touch with her nose like an animal searching for the warmth of touch, and then curled deeper into herself, hands clutching at her navel, “do we have to go to the hospital, y/n?”

“I was hungry, H,” y/n shuts her eyes tightly and gulps a breath of air, “but you said no more.. and there were brownies in the drawer.” 

Harry rubs her back, transfixed by y/n’s bizarre actions as she moans at his touch. Cocking his head to the side, he mumbles what she said, “brownies in the…” 

Realization dawned on in. 

No, no, no, no. Looking at the bedside table that previously housed his rolling tray, it now was covered with two, blood-red pieces of crumpled foil crumbs of chocolate dotted around the trash. The words Kitty-kat Brat in a sensual, curly font stamped on the side. A script of warning on the side said that each partner should only consume a fourth of the brownie every hour as desired and that after consumption, the effect would only be sated by the exhaustion of endorphins. And at the top, in a glitter color: aphrodisiac. 

Y/n had consumed two aphrodisiacs that Harry kept for himself on the occasion that a partner might want to experiment with them. The poor girl was hurting because she was… so fucking horny. 

“Oh, lovie,” Harry sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. What the fuck was he going to do? Leave her? No, he couldn’t do that when… when her pussy was weeping for attention. Call someone else to help? When help meant she would get fucked so hard she’d be cock-dumb? Absolutely not. But also, Harry didn’t feel right touching her when she was clearly under another influence. And if he didn’t feel right doing it himself, why the fuck would he let someone else do it? With a curled knuckle, he hooks her chin and forces her to look at him,  “can you tell me exactly what it is you’re feeling? S’okay, don’t be embarrassed.” 

Y/n shuts her eyes and tries to yank her chin away, but Harry tightens his grip, pinching the sides of her mouth so she can’t move, “can’t do that, H.” 

It’s laughable really, he thinks. How whiny she’s being when her actions are the reason she was in this position. He had told her no more, and did she listen to him? No. In fact, she went looking through his drawers and ate his brownies, which he did not give permission for her to do. 

If there was one thing that got him riled up, it was girls who didn’t listen and then cried at the consequences of their own actions. 

He chuckled at her, even though he was surprised at the change in his feelings about the situation, but he couldn’t find it in him to care anymore. Here he was, thinking she was this innocent little thing. And she eats his fucking sex brownies. Shaking his head, he taps her cheek with his finger to get her to pay attention to him, “I need to know what’s happening so I can find some way to help. Aren’t you hurting, baby?”

Keening, back arching off the bed, she cries, “So badly, Harry. My… pussy hurts. I’ve already cum so many times but nothing I do is working!” Blood rushes to his dick at the lewd confession. How long she has been in here with her fingers rubbing her cunt with him just outside the door. Muffling her moans so he doesn’t hear them. The thought makes him groan internally. “It doesn’t feel right.” 

His voice is low and gravelly, filled with a hunger that was kindling in his loins in preparation to spread like wildfire. “What doesn’t feel right?” He asked. 

“Me doing it myself,” she swallows wetly, and her hand comes up to grip his wrist, Her thighs are chafed from how urgently she keeps rubbing them together, and through the lace of her bralette he can see how hard her nipples are. The glassy look in her eyes isn’t just from tears, it’s a reflection of how deep her need goes.  “I-I… I want someone else to do it. I want you to do it.” 

Little crescents of broken skin are left in her wake, and he lets her. The sting of pain is keeping him centered at the moment. The sound of her harsh breathing, rustling of the mattress springs from all her movement, and the bursts of circling motion at her hips are testing him. He wants to squeeze the tip of his dick to alleviate some of the aches that are settling there. “You want me to do what, sweet thing?” 

 “I want you to help me, H. Please?” Blinking at him blearily, y/n pouts. She was begging him. 

Crooning to her with a condescending pout of his own, Harry cups the side of her face and runs a thumb under her eyes were tears have started falling once more, “help you what? Use your words.” 

Y/n huffs and sobs, her heels sliding against the mattress, “help me cum! Please, I can’t take it anymore.” 

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Look at me, y/n. I said look at me,” he shakes her by the grip he has on her face gently to get her to snap out of the whining and whimpering. Needing her eyes on him so that he could read her, he asks “Are you sure about this?” 

“Yes, yes. I am. Please do something.” 

“Ask nicely.” 

The girl is back to mewling, taking the hand on her face and moving it down to her legs so that Harry would get the hint, “please touch me, H.” 

Y/n pulls him down onto the bed by his hand, and Harry lets her tug at him until he’s sitting down next to her before he pulls out of her grip and grabs both of her hands in one. Placing them above her head, he looks at her pointedly, eyes dark, so she doesn’t move her hands from where he leaves them. Big hands splayed wide across her trailed down the sides of her waist and stopped at her hips, rubbing gentle circles, “Open y’legs, don’t be shy now. M’just gonna help, and I need to see what I’m working with.” 

Briefly, she mumbles some kind of complaint, the remnants of any modesty making themselves known, but Harry wasn’t having any of it. He waited, glaring at her almost, until she allowed her thighs to fall open freely, and he hummed low at the back of his throat. Sliding his palms up the inside of her thigh, he began to talk to her in a tone that many didn’t get to hear, “want my fingers, lovie? Or my mouth? Don’t think you deserve my cock for being naughty and touching something that wasn’t yours. Only good girls get my cock.” 

“Everything, H. I’m sorry, won’t do it again. Give me anything you want,” y/n weeps, her hands in a fist above her head digging into the pillow that is halfway out of its case from all her moving around. 

“Think I’ll pet y’weepy cunt first, hmm? How does that sound?” Harry bites back a moan and feels the tip of his dick rubbing against the inside of his sweatpants. Reaching down to adjust himself doesn’t seem like a priority when his girl is beneath him with her legs wide open and pleas are falling from her lips for him to touch her. The inside of her thighs are irritated, the black gusset of her thin underwear stained white with the cream of her pussy. He wants to press his nose against her and lick her clean. His mouth is watering for him to do something of the sort but instead, he hooks her underwear aside and… 

And his own hips buck forward against his will. She’s so slick, it's running down the seam of her ass and onto his bedsheets. Drops of her creamy cut sit on the edge of her hole, accumulated from her previous orgasms. Y/n twists uncomfortably and pants. Harry, wanting to hear her cries again, smears her cum with two fingers around her entrance, and slides them into her pussy. 

“Perfe- oh, God.” She clenches around him, and he can feel that spongy place brush against the tip of his finger the second before she starts twitching from an orgasm. Her mouth drops open in a silent scream and her head tilts back into the mattress. Harry smirks as she cums from one touch, and his own jaw drops at the amount of moisture that comes out of her, dripping onto his knuckles. 

Guiding her through it, Harry continues moving his fingers at a steady pace, bringing his thumb up to the hood of her mound to press against her clit, “Oh, y’poor thing. Just a touch and y’already gushing on m’hand? Thought I was gonna have to try for it. Y’cum this easy for everyone, lovie, or jus’ me?” He leans over her with a hand braced beside her head and whispers into her ear,  “how ‘bout I work f’the next one?” 

Ripples of need were running down his spine and to his groin but he focused all of his energy into paying attention to what made her react the most. Listening for the hitch in her breath. He dragged his fingers out slowly, curling them on the inside of her wall as he did so where was persistent pressure leading up to her g-spot, and y/n made an animalistic noise mixed between a whine and cry. His tongue lolled against the side of her ear, the skin hot and flushed from the heat of her body. Harry nipped the tender flesh of her neck and waited to hear her yelp to soothe the sting with his tongue. Kissing his way down to her throat, he presses his fingers into her as far as they go and runs circles around her clit while keeping steady pressure on the bundle of nerves inside of her. He’s rubbing her inside and outside, slowly, slowly, and then starts picking up the pace. 

Y/n is mewling, her tits in the air as her back lifts up in a hold.  Her moans are becoming louder, her pussy tightening around his fingers and he knows she’s going to orgasm again. He’s mumbling how good she is being for him against the side of her breast, his nose holding back the flimsy lace as he leaves the plush skin and fights the urge to cant his hips into the bed like a dog in heat. He feels hot everywhere, like the heat turned on by itself in his room, and when y/n’s fingers curl into his hair and pull as she cums again and screams his name he can’t find it in him to reprimand her. Harry just talks her through it. 

“Good girl, y/n. Y’being so good for me. Think you can give me another, lovie? Because I want one more. Y’gonna give me one more, okay?” Cooing at the way she digs her head back into the pillows and shakes her head, Harry increases his rhythm so that the muscles in his bicep flex with every move. She’s still spasming around him from the orgasm she’s riding, but he doesn’t let it end, “ah, you’re so cute, saying no but this little cunt is weeping yes. Who am I to deny her, hmm?” 

She’s adamantly shaking her head no, eyes lulling shut and her mouth slacks with a cry, “too much… too much, h. Sensitive, please-”

“Weren’t you begging for it earlier, y/n? M’only giving you what you asked for,”  Harry thinks he could cum just from watching her body tense with unyielding pleasure. Her eyes are rolling into the back of her head and Harry is back to fucking her fast and hard with his fingers while licking and sucking on her nipple, “that’s it. That’s it right there isn’t it, baby? Abusing y’special spot so it’s too much for you, hmm?” 

He’s muffled against her skin and the sound of her wet pussy being penetrated by his fingers is so filthy, his own eyes roll into the back of his head. He takes a deep breath and smells the sex on her, the tanginess of her juices zinging his tastebuds, and god he has to taste her. 

“Yes, yes, please, Harry,” y/n is anguished, heels set firmly so she can meet his hand halfway, and she's so erratic he can’t focus on anything else but the furious pace she’s set. 

“Gonna cum, baby?” Harry groans, moving one of his legs so one of hers is in between his, and the movement of her shin against his crotch makes him pant. Every muscle is tense with a restraint that is slowly melting away. With every rub of her against him- she’s doing it unknowingly, and he’s rutting against her- he’s closer to spurting in his sweatpants. 

“Mhm,” her affirmation drags out into breathless gasps as the weak squeeze unclenches and clenches all over again as another orgasm rolls through her. 

He can’t take it anymore. He removes his hand to give her a chance to recover, takes the hand covered in her cum, and sticks it down his pants. Hissing at the relief he gets from squeezing himself from base to tip has him seeing white. 

“Good girl, baby,” stroking himself, he nuzzles against her chin. He wants to kiss her but he wants to talk them both up into a frenzy. “Took it so well, let me treat y’little pussy right. Does she still want more?” y/n nods, sniffling and scrunching her nose, “you do? Want my mouth or my fingers next, lovie?”

“I want more than that. It’s not… not enough,” she whimpers. 

Harry cocks his head to the side and thrusts into his hand once more before going to touch her again. He’s painfully hard, and the catch of his tip against the terrycloth fabric inside is overstimulating him. “Not enough? I made you come three times and it wasn’t enough?”

“Give me more, Harry, please I-I need it,” y/n angles her hips in his direction again. A thin film of sweat coats her skin, and the baby hairs at her temple are sticking to the skin. Her eyes are red, but she’s not crying anymore, and a line of clear snot trails into her upper lip that she keeps sniffling. She looks thoroughly fucked now before Harry’s even stuck his cock in her. He cleans her face with the edge of a blanket and kisses her under each eye. Before he can right himself again, she pulls him back down by his hair and presses her mouth against his. Little pecks at first, and then she’s licking at the seam of his mouth, all the while Harry just smirks. He doesn’t kiss her back at first, and when she starts to cry about it, he leans in and devours her mouth. 

He’s brutal in his kiss, sticking his tongue in his mouth and knocking his teeth against hers. She tastes sweet, like chocolate and strawberries and weed. Y/n melts against him, opening up her lips to him and licking back like a cat. When they separate, a string of saliva connects their mouths. 

“What do you need? Hmm? Want my mouth and my fingers, too? No?” He hums low, pretending to think of naughty ways to get her off, when in reality, he’s already thought of a million and one, “want to ride one off on my thigh? Rub that wet thing between y’legs all over mine and leave a sticky mess behind? Y’might give y’self a burn, but that’s what you get for poking into something y’should have.”

“No. I’m sorry, H, just please- help me-” she pleads meekly. 

“I want to help y’lovie, but y’gotta tell me because I’m running out of ideas here,” before he can finish her sentence, she makes a frustrated huff and buries her head into his neck. Y/n wraps her leg around his, trying to pull him on her but all she manages is to lift herself up and grind her molten core on the hard ridges of his abs. An absurdly loud moan resonates throughout the room, and Harry groans at the way she ruts into the air, a pull in his abdomen demanding his dick makes contact with something. Her hands find purchase on his shoulders, and Harry has to remain tense while she uses him as leverage to push her hips up so her clit drags against the ridge just below his belly button. He’s being mean, watching her struggle and pant, sweat gathering at her temples and between her tits, but he can’t help but watch her use him. She’s so focused on trying to get herself off, it’s almost like he’s not even there as long as he isn’t moving. 

The way he watches her is so nonchalant, it’s almost as if he’s not a few touches away from cumming himself. He merely smiles lazily at her efforts, mumbling lame encouragement and telling her she was so cute while she puffed and struggled to get herself off. She couldn’t keep herself touching his abdomen for long enough to pick up a pace. When she starts to tire out, her pants turn into frustrated huffs, and her thighs quake from exertion. 

Harry chuckles, “y’need help, baby? Y’were doing just fine before. Didn’t seem to need me then.” 

She sulked, and the expression on her face was only missing the stomping of feet to resemble a tantrum, “You’re being mean!”

“Oh, darling,” he soothed, licking the salty drop of moisture that fell from the side of her eye in frustration. He wanted to keep toying with her until the only word she knew was his name in different volumes and tones, but if his own dick was hurting this badly without an added stimulant, he can’t imagine what she was feeling. He gently kissed her lips and pulled away before her eager tongue made an earnest effort to deepen their connection. “don’t cry.”

“It hurts,” y/n turned her head to the side, into the pillow to cover her face, and mindlessly ran her hands across his shoulders. A smattering of gooseflesh covered her, and for some reason, it softened him. 

“Here, why don’t we try this,” he moves them so swiftly, so she’s on top, her legs on either side of him, her center sitting atop his belly button. Harry decides that he’s going to let her have her fun for a while before taking control. “Better, lovie? Like this?” Her jaw is slack from the contact of the muscular ridges, her clit grazing against the indent of his abs as guided by his hands on her hips, dragging her back and force to set a rhythm. Hurried ah-ah-ah’s are choked out from her, and y/n tries to go faster, her thigh muscles straining against Harry’s grip. And he lets her go. 

With his elbows planted on the bed to support himself, he flexed his core and smirked in satisfaction when she mewled and humped him erratically, muttering that it felt so good, how she was so close. There had never been a time like this before, in which he practiced such restraint, but just gazing at her was enough. He began to pant with a savage abandon, entranced by the bouncing of her tits, the little huffs of breath that interrupted her cries. Precum leaked out of his dick and made a dark sport on the gray fabric of his pants at the feeling of her wet pussy rubbing against him. Using him to get off. This sweet angel who had been scared to look him in the eye at one point, who didn’t know shit about drugs, who had captivated him before he knew her name, was using him to get off. He had never felt so lucky. 

“Go on then, use me,” Harry canted his hips up to press against her as she came down on him, and groaned when the tip of his dick touched her ass. “Give this pussy what it needs, baby. Whatever she wants,” grabbing her thigh, he stroked her, swiping up and down and skating his thumb on the tender skin that wasn’t touching.“Can I rub you right here? She wants me to touch her, will y’let me?”

Nodding fervently, so eager, “Yes, please. Anything you want Harry, need to going to-”

“Cum all over my belly?” Harry suggested, his palm stopping where her thigh meets her hip so that his thumb could reach her clit and swipe against it as she moved. Her hole fluttered against him, and then he felt her start to clench, grasping around nothing as the beginnings of another burst build inside her. His thumb flicked her bundle of nerves faster, rolling longer in bursts of two or three, and then she stilled, her thighs spasming from an orgasm announced by the shout of his name. “Look at you, y’shaking,” he whispered in awe, his hips stuttering when she feebly tried to rock against him while still cumming, “and you still fucking want more.”

“Make it go way, H,” y/n pleaded, her shoulders twitching from the continuation of the orgasm she had previously. The dim lighting in the room makes it hard to see but he doesn’t miss the way she arches her back and pushes her tits out. His mouth waters at the thought of sucking them again, but he wants her to be filthy. As filthy as his thoughts were getting. 

“No.” He says, taking his hand away and watching her pussy shudder against him as he cuts her orgasm short. 

Y/n whines low in her throat and lets her body fall forward. She rests on top of him now, her head by his ear. Her mouth is hot against his ear when she mutters wetly, “please.”

“You’re gonna do what I just did again, and again until it stops,” Harry rubs a hand up her back, through her shoulderblades and up the nape of her neck until his fingers are deep in her hair, and tightens his grip to keep her still from licking his jaw. He yanks her back so her face is a hair away from him, their noses a centimeter from touching, “or until you tell me exactly what you want”

Gulping, her head bobs up and down and her tone becomes pitiful, “Kay. Please.. can you… unbutton your jeans, please?”

“I said y’ have to tell me, not take what you want, y/n.” He feels try to slowly inch forward to kiss him. 

“I know! I know!” Shutting her eyes tightly and whimpering when Harry pulls her back to stop her movements again, her high-pitched tone of voice sounds like music to his ears, “m’gonna go again, I promise, but your buttons are hurting my… butt.” 

There's a beat of silence, and then he kisses her nose. Let's go of her hair, and tucks his hands behind his head like he's kicking back for a fucking vacation and not like if she accidentally touched his cock one more time he would cum. “Y’cute, lovie, go ahead, then. M’only watching this time.”

“S’not fair!” Y/n complained but reluctantly started moving over her own lubrication. Harry was so wet with her arousal that the filthiest suction noises were coming from where their skin touched. The insides of her thighs were hot against him, and he imagined it was from the irritation. Later, he would have to apply the cream to them. But he wasn’t going to touch her then. Not when she was being so bratty after he made her cum several times. 

Cocking an eyebrow, Harry growled “what’s not fair is you ate my sex brownie, y/n, but I’m not complaining, am I? What if I wanted to fuck someone else senseless, eat out their sopping cunt, and have them beg me ‘more, h, s’not enough’? Have them mark me with their cum like you’re doing right now, and play with their clit till they can’t talk properly?” She didn’t like what he had to say“Oh, I see, y’don’t like that, do you, baby? I’m doin’ these things with you, s’not enough?” 

“No!” A warmth spread in Harry’s chest at her disapproval of him doing things to someone else, at the thought that they shared the same possessiveness. 

“What more do you-” she lifts her hip and inches back, and then she pulled his sweatpants down and come down in such a way that her folds were fit snugly against the angry red tip of his cock. He hissed and stilled, “Y/n, what-”

“Want this, h,” y/n whispered and rolled her hips against him. That was all it took. One touch of her pussy on him and hot, thick white ropes of his cum were spurting between them. A long animalistic groan thrummed in his chest, the tightness in his core snapped and so did he. He grabbed her with a curse and held her still as he fucked out his orgasm, his dick sliding between her folds furiously as the orgasm continued like it would never end. Moaning as he watches her bite down on her lip, climbing up on another climax as moisture burst on the length of his cock. She was quivering, grinding against him as much as she could so prettily. His blood was boiling at it felt like he was going to have heatstroke from how warm he was everywhere, but the pleasure was lighting up each of his nerves and he could care less if he died right after. 

“My cock?” He snarled, his lips pulled back so he looked like the animal he was being. Puffs of air were sifting through his nostrils harshly, but he kept dirty talking her. “Y’naughty little thing, lookin’ like a fucking wreck with me sliding in between you like this, fuck, sucking me right in.”

“Feels so good,” y/n panted, her hands on his wrists at her hips. Her touch was featherlight on him, and Harry knew she was getting to the end of the brownies. 

“Does it, baby?” 

“Yeah, you’re so warm, it-it feels really really good,” bits of her words disappeared with gasps that took her oxygen away. She was so flushed, her skin damp with sweat. 

“Is that all you know how to say?” He slows his movements, and instead of moving her over him, Harry thrusts. His member setting a harsh, punishing pace that would have him reaching her g-spot repeatedly if he was inside her.“Or are you just not thinking right because you want me to fuck you so badly?” 

“Yes! Yes!” 

“Say it,” snarling, he pistoned up into her, the familiar sensation of a coiling rope building in him once more. The tip of his cock between them was leaking precum, y/n’s pussy dripping creamy slick on him so there was a sopping mess between them. 

“I want you to fuck me, h,” on his name, y/n starts shaking uncontrollably, another orgasm running through her and this one renders her into a sobbing mess. Harry… well he’s moaning without reserve, eyes shut as pleasure overtakes him again. This time he savors it, slowing their bodies down so their sensual touches drag out longer. Low sobs shakes her, and she collapses beside him and starts to curl in on herself from the overwhelming sensations. Harry follows, climbing over her and turning her so she’s facing him and looking her right in the eyes. 

“I’m not gonna fuck you dumb, tonight, sweetheart. Not when you’re already stupid horny from a brownie y’took without permission. Remember what I said? Only good girls get me between their legs. And you were so, so, naughty.” He was pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses below her breasts, peppering them both and tweaking her nipples when they weren’t in his mouth. 

Y/n begins to cry, tears immediately falling at his rejection. Her beginning is desperate, “No. No, h. Please, I’ll do anything. Please, I want-” 

“I know you want to cum. So that’s what I’ll give you. But not with my dick. Gonna eat up all the honey that comes out of this puffy little hole and I don’t care if y’cum so much y’crying because your slit is numb. I’m gonna stop when I want to, understand? Nod if you understand.” She does as he asks, and sniffles. “Good. Now lay down and let me eat.” 

Her back has barely touched the mattress before his mouth is on her, devouring her like it's both the first and last meal he’s ever had. His tongue is hot on her already creamy pussy, and the taste of her has him rutting into the mattress like a fucking animal, fucking down on it like it’s her. He laps at her desperately, ears keenly aware of every moan, squeak, whimper that comes out of her. He fucks into her hole with his tongue, licking her cream before it's even fully out of her, and spitting it back out on her clit. The action makes y/n freeze, and he looks up, momentarily confused thinking that he’s crossed a boundary but…

But y/n’s head is thrown so far back he can count the veins in her neck, and her body is trembling, a restrained garble of words incoherently coming out of her in pants and Harry knows she’s coming. He blows on her clit, allowing his spit and her cum to drip before going back down to slurp at it. He focuses on that little button, suckling at it and flicking it with his tongue. Soon enough, y/n is yelping, her hands in his hair as she tried to wretch him away. It’s finally become too much. 

“Don’t you fucking pull me off, I’m not finished yet,” he momentarily takes his hands off of her thighs and wraps them around her wrist, pressing down on the tendon at the center to wiggle her fingers off his head. He tucks them under her back, and places his mouth on her once more, dark eyes threatening her as he mouths his words on cunt, “Lay down and don’t pull again or I’ll tie y’up.” 

Holding her down firmly, Harry splayed his tongue flat on her and sucks, surprised and pleased by the shriek that escaped her. Y/n is crying, saying she can’t take it, that it was enough, but Harry isn’t listening. He’s so lost in his own pleasure, the arousal he gets from her taste, the sounds she makes because of him, that he’s chasing after his own orgasm by rubbing his cock against the bed. He’s getting frustrated because he wants to get there as soon as she does, and he knows it's gonna be soon with the way she’s throbbing against his lips. 

So he reaches down and squeezes himself in a tight fist, lubrication not necessary because of how slippery he was already. The moment he does, his vision goes white, and there's a spurt of heat below his belly button, and moisture drenching the lower half of his face. 

They lay there heaving briefly, and he becomes aware that she’s no longer awake. Her breathing is stinted with hiccups from leftover sobs, but she’s asleep. The tip of her nose is red, her eyes red-rimmed. He knows she’s going to wake up tired and with a headache tomorrow, but he’ll be there with her. With the corner of a blanket, he cleans them up as much as he can and tosses that soiled sheet away, grabbing a much more clean one and throwing it over them. 

“Night, baby.” He kissed her forehead and tucked his Achilles heel close to his chest, the girl sleeping like a rock in his arms. 

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for putting a hit out on an ex friend’s dnd character?

A few years ago I [M 18] was the link between two different online friend circles along with my longtime friend A [M 22]. Essentially, both A and I ran two different dnd campaigns that acted as a melting pot between our two friend groups. It was really fun, super casual stuff. Enter C [M 19], who was originally one of my friends and played in both groups. Over time it became clear that C was, to put it lightly, not a great person. At the time, I was a really new DM and struggled a lot with my self confidence. C was a super disruptive player in my group, going off the rails and generally trying to undermine both me and other players. I tried to sort it out between sessions, but it didn’t end up working out. It came to a head where I ended up shutting down my campaign, claiming school got to be too much, but in reality I just couldn’t deal with C’s behaviour. It was a really big blow to my self confidence at the time.

At this point a lot of people had been cutting out C for various other things like this - generally being disrespectful and callous, not taking responsibility for harm he caused, etc. Pretty soon the only times I was interacting with C directly was during A’s campaign.

A, who wasn’t 100% aware of the situation, came and talked to me after a session one day about why I’d shut down my campaign, and I told him everything about how I was feeling. He was really understanding, and said that he got the feeling that I probably didn’t want C around anymore, and neither did he. I agreed, so A offered to ‘sort out some stuff with C’s character’ and shuffle him out of the group. I made a joke about wanting C’s character to die, in a pretty flippant way, and the conversation diverted.

This is where things get kind of weird.

So, at the time, I was expecting A to just talk with C and kick him out of the group in between sessions, but that didn’t end up happening. C was at the next session just as planned, and continued to show up for several weeks. During this time A, and I really don’t know how else to describe this, pulled some Machiavellian scheme on C’s character as the DM to ruin his life. A wove in this story where C’s character got this evil mask shard of a dead god, and played on C’s want to sabotage other players & go his own way in a very ‘lone rogue’ way to isolate him from the group and get him involved in all these evil deeds (killing minor npcs, etc). None of our characters knew about this in character, but A dropped all these hints and the context lined up to make it seem like C’s character was slowly going insane. C, unable to communicate in or out of character, backed up this idea by refusing to talk about the god IC or OOC. Eventually this god fragment lead to the death of C’s character when an overpowered assassin struck him down, in a fight that felt very ‘well this could’ve been a party boss but because you didn’t tell anyone, you died’. Immediately following this the party found out about C’s character’s evil deeds, meaning he wouldn’t be mourned by the party. The whole death felt so… hollow. It really felt like C had ended up in this situation because of their own hubris. But they hadn’t.

A had masterminded the whole thing. He’d given me live updates about his plan to essentially manufacture a situation where C’s character died a miserable death that felt totally deserved in the eyes of the other party members. And then we all just blocked C anyway???

I’ve never seen someone manipulate somebody like that in my life before and I’ve never seen anything like it again. I’ve never told anyone else in the group that the death was masterminded by A because of my petty grudge about my failed campaign. I don’t speak to either A or C now but I still feel bad about not doing something. Should I have just told A to kick C way before this?? I had no clue it would spiral into actual months of chess mastering his demise!!

What are these acronyms?

[fandomfucker]

Hey bestie

I’ve loved you stuff for ages so I thought you would be a good writer for a lil idea I had!

Poly! Judgement Day x reader (or just Rhea Ripley ) where bubbly (but smart and snarky) reader gets moved to smackdown during the draft and only sees the rest of her partners one or two days a week.

She acts independently like it doesn’t bother her that she has to travel alone, and doesn’t tell her partners that she’s had trouble making friends at smackdown. But it’s taking a toll on her.

When she starts seeing them post more photos without her and all text her less she finally loses it.

After a long day of losing a championship match reader goes home to find out that her partners didn’t even know that she had a match that night and barely acknowledge her homecoming. Reader cries herself to sleep alone in their kingside bed.

Hurt/comfort ensues

- I hope this wasn’t too long 💕,

🟧Anon

Thank you so much for all your support!!🫶

Definitely get toxic relationship vibes with this so i kinda played into it a little. Also, this doesnt actually follow anything because I dont actually really watch Smackdown, pls dont kill me🙏

Some of the dialogue and resulting reactions/scenarios are from this list by @judgementdaysunshine and @romanthereigns

Word count: 4,473

Reader’s POV

It felt like my heart had been ripped in two and then thrown in a woodchipper.

Without any kind of warning or anything, I had just been removed from my partnership with the Judgment Day and put on Smackdown instead of Raw.

Backstage in our shared dressing room it was quiet enough to hear a pin drop as the five of us all stood around in stunned silence.

Dominik was the first to break it as he launched himself at me, cradling my head to his chest as the news began to sink in.

Tears began to well up in my eyes as I stared off over his shoulder at nothing. Our hug was jolted when Damian, Finn, and Rhea joined us, surrounding and enveloping us whole.

I blinked until the tears receded, refusing to cry over an unfortunate situation such as this.

I felt tears on my shoulder from one of my partners and heard the shaking sobs of the others, making it just that much harder to not cry myself.

Reluctantly, I pulled away from our group hug, wiping away any remaining strays.

I cleared my throat, "This isn't going to change anything, okay? We all still love each other and at the end of the day, we all go back to the same home. We'll be okay."

Dominik nodded, keeping a hand on my waist as he wiped away his own tears. Catching Damian also wiping away his tears I sent him a small smile, hugging into his waist.

"You're right, dove. It might be hard, but we'll make it work just like we always do." Rhea smiled as she cradled my face in her hands.

I nodded my head, smiling at her in return before removing myself from the boys' holds on me and crushing her body into mine, holding onto her waist tightly.

Finn stood to the side of her and took one of my hands in his, "Lass, this isn't goodbye, and it never will be. You're going to do great by yourself, really get the chance to show everyone just what all you're capable of."

Nodding my head again against Rhea's chest, I squeezed his hand in acknowledgment and comfort as I took in all my partners in the group locker room for what was possibly the last time.

"I'll make you guys proud."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two smackdowns later and I still had yet to make any of them even remotely proud.

Turns out, even if you leave a group, people still hold grudges against you for being in that group.

Rhea and I had obliterated the entire women's division both individually and as the occasional tag team so no one liked me or even so much as acknowledged I was there.

The ignoring was worse than any bullying or ambushes I could have anticipated.

The only woman in the locker room that would even look at me was the new girl from NXT, Blair Davenport but the others had warned her about me, so she too stayed away.

All the men wouldn't talk to me either more than a 'hello' in passing because my boys had swept through them too.

Apparently creating grudges left and right isn't as fun as I thought, once those I made the grudges with are no longer with me. I had burned all the bridges I now needed to keep from drowning.

We managed to work our schedules out enough so that we'd all be able to see each other once or twice a week, unless there was a PLE in which we'd be together that whole week.

I was given a newer design along with new beefs. Instead of my usual black and dark purple I wore more pastel colors. Baby blue, lilac, light yellows, etc. I was given extensions and my makeup was much less dramatic. My shorts were traded for skirts and my hand symbols for hearts.

I was told they were wanting to take some more creative liberties for me and I could either get on board with it or leave.

My first match on Smackdown was against the new girl, Blair Davenport who wanted to "show the world what she's made of" and decided to try and make me her example.

Long story short; I won. And that really didn't do me any favors, except to get me a match against Chelsea Green. The winner of which would be getting a shot at the Women's Championship title against Bayley.

Sitting in the locker room after winning my match against Chelsea I sat in the corner with my knees to my chest as I texted the Judgment Day group-chat.

Y/N: Guys!! I got a match against Bayley for the title next week!! We're about to have two womens champs in the JD!😁😁💪💪

With the different time zones I wasn't expecting an immediate reply so I just went ahead and began scrolling through Instagram until it was time for my promo.

Rhea's post came up first. It was just a picture of her dinner, at a fancy restaurant, and you could see Dominik's shirt and hands in the background.

Some of us go on dates with each other by ourselves all the time so I thought nothing of it, just liked it and kept scrolling.

Until I saw that Damian had uploaded a friends-only story. Clicking on it, it was a mirror selfie of him and Finn wearing tuxes, a peak of a flowy red dress just out of frame. The next slide was a full picture of Rhea in her dress. Her dress that I had given her.

My eyes stung a bit that my partners had all gone out on a really nice date without me, but I blinked it away because it didn't matter. It was one date and I'm on the other side of the country right now, they can go on one date without me. It's fine.

When it was time to do my promo, someone came and escorted me to the specific area where my favorite unbiased interviewer, Cathy Kelley, was waiting for me. Her face lit up when she saw me as I barreled towards her.

Crushing her into a hug, we both squealed with delight at finally seeing each other for the first time in forever.

We caught up and did my promo and decided to go out for a really late dinner together after the show. I told her about my struggles with the women on the roster while she spilled about her own personal problems.

"Oh! Let's take a cute little dinner date picture for Insta!" Cathy exclaimed pulling out her phone. I agreed and joked that we should hold hands across the table like a real date and she agreed.

She posted the photo and we watched as the comments rolled in from the fans. Some were loving it while others thought she might be dating both Rhea and me now. We laughed at some of the comments before going back to our conversation.

Wrapping up dinner, Cathy revealed to me that while she would be on Smackdown more often than before, she still wouldn't be there every week.

"It's okay, its not your fault," I forced a smile before we made our way to our separate hotel rooms. "I'll see you tomorrow though?" I asked hopefully.

"Of course! Sweet dreams, Y/N," She replied before we went our separate ways.

Two hours later, now laid in my hotel bed about to go to sleep, and the only response I'd gotten was a thumbs-up reaction from Finn. Secretly, I hoped my partners were just too busy planning something special for me when I got home and didn't want to accidentally ruin the surprise.

Deciding to just get over it, I went to bed, dreaming of finally being with all my partners again, going on a date with all of us.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sound of my phone's notifications woke me up early the next morning. I reached out, aiming for the nightstand where I had left my phone to charge the night before. I blindly hit around the area until I felt my phone, bring it up to my half-open eyes, blinking rapidly at the burning brightness of the screen.

The screen was filled with angry texts from my partners.

Finn: What the hell were you doing with Cathy???

Rheas: Were you on a date last night???

Hello???

Y/N!

Damian: Answer us Y/n!!

Dominik: Y/n answer your fucking phone this is insane

My eyes teared up in fear at my partners' reactions. They seemed genuinely upset, especially with the combined 24 missed calls in a 4-hour time period.

I just texted back a simple, "We just went out to dinner and thought the picture would be cute. Nothing more." before getting up and going about my day. With my next flight leaving in just a few hours, I had a lot to do before I could even get to the airport.

After getting out of the shower, I checked my messages only to see no response from any of my partners. Clicking on the chat, I saw that I had been left on read by all four of them. I tried to push aside my feelings but lately it was getting harder and harder to do so.

But, I managed to pull myself together just enough to make it on my flight home just in time.

It was mid-Sunday by the time I made it to our shared house, and I knew I'd be alone for the next couple days since my partners' flight out for Raw had been around the same time as my flight in.

The rest of the day was spent self-loathing in the bathtub as I watched a few of Bayley's old matches, trying to give myself the upper-hand for our match by learning how she fights.

I fell asleep in bed that night, shoveling ice cream into my mouth as I watched old reruns of Full House on the TV.

The next morning was nice because I was finally able to sleep-in after so many early mornings. I was able to make myself a cup of coffee and make french toast (something I hadn't been able to have in forever) as I sat on the back porch watching the birds fly through the trees.

My nice little fantasy, however, was broken when I received an Instagram notification. This one was a picture Rhea had posted; a selfie of the four of them in the car they were driving.

I was too emotionally exhausted for my eye to even begin welling up. So, to save myself from anymore heartbreak and/or grievances, I blocked all four of them on both socials and messages and told myself I'd unblock them later that day.

Later that day turned into fifteen minutes later when I started feeling guilty, so I unblocked their messages and left their socials alone. I'd see the pictures eventually on my feed posted by fans, but hopefully it would take a little bit longer than if they weren't blocked. None of them ever bothered to text me individually or the group chat of all five of us the rest of that week, even after I texted them to congratulate them on their wins form Monday. 

Brushing off the avoidances form them, I just went about my week. A few facetime interviews and a podcast. I answered emails and went to the gym. I cleaned the house and did laundry, wondering when on Earth my partners would get home.

I even called them to ask to no avail. But I saw the posts on Instagram of them a few states away hanging out, going on dates. They had decided to do a road-trip back home instead of a flight. 

The uncomfortable lump in my throat increased with each swipe to the next picture. As I swiped through the pictures, my growing fury and heartache increasing in a swirl of mixed feelings, Dominik texted me, saying they'd be home Thursday night.

Around the same time as my flight out to the next city for Smackdown.

I sent a thumbs up in reply and threw my phone off to the side so I wouldn't have to think about it for the next little while.

I just went ahead and began packing all my stuff for Smackdown Friday night, making sure I had everything I needed for my new ring gear I was about to debut. It was a special occasion, after all. I was about to be the next women's champion.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Friday night had arrived and I now stood in the guerilla bouncing around as I shook out my nerves. Onlookers shot me weird looks as I went through my warm-ups as well, they weren't your typical ones as I had learned them in high school doing theatre.

Bayley passed me, giving me a look I couldn't quite decipher as her music hit first and she walked out. 

A minute later my own started playing and I walked out, swaggering my way down the aisle. When I was told to change my look, and my attitude as well, to make myself not apart of the Judgment Day anymore, I was finally given my own theme music, but I missed our group theme more than anything.  My now long hair swung as I made my way up the stairs and into the ring to do my entrance against the ropes.

Stepping into the middle of the ring, I faced Bayley as our title match was announced and the title showcased to the audience. I caught her mouthing something at me, making me grin sadistically. You can take the girl out of the faction but you can't take the faction out of the girl.

"May the best woman win."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I didn't win.

It was a long match that wound up being longer than anyone anticipated, ourselves included.

Bayley eventually got the best of me when my head hit the turnbuckle at just the right angle for me to black out for a second, leaving room for Bayley to pin me as I was too disoriented to kick out.

The ref had to help me backstage to the medics after the lights went out, signaling the commercial break. She even had to hand me a towel to catch the blood beginning to flow from the small cut.

The on-sight paramedic gave me some ice for my head as she checked my pupils. "Yeah, I think you got a minor concussion there, hon. I'll let Mr. Aldis know but you should sit down and rest until you can get an uber, you shouldn't be driving." 

She left the room and I immediately started bawling my eyes out, making my headache worse. Not only did I now have a concussion which would cause me to be out for at least a few weeks, but I was lonely, my partners were ignoring me and probably didn't love me anymore, and I lost my one shot at the title that I had earned and fought for entirely by myself.

My cries attracted the attention of a few passerby but only one stopped and came in to check on me.

"Hey, Y/n, I'm really sorry. That was my fault, I totally botched that, I'm so sorry. If you want I can take you back to the hotel so you don't have to pay for an uber? I just have one more promo to do and then I'm all done."

I looked up to see Bayley standing there, her title nowhere in sight, looking so sincerely upset and apologetic it just sent another wave of tears down my already soaked cheeks.

"That'd be great, thank you," I laugh-cried as she helped me down from the table and back to the shared locker room.

All the other girls stared at me as I walked in, my face and eyes puffy and my forehead bandaged, as I continued to hold an ice pack to the top of said bandage. No one else seemed to have any sympathy for me and rightfully so. I hadn't actually done anything in the past 2 years to warrant any.

Bayley brought me over to my locker and began helping me get all my stuff together. "Why are you helping me?" I croaked pitifully.

She avoided eye contact, "Because I know what it's like. To lose your faction--the people who mean the most to you and are always supposed to be there for you, I mean."

A small laugh escaped me as well as another tear. I swiped it away before offering my hand to her. "Truce?"

"Truce," She nodded and shook my hand.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finally getting home late the next day, I was relieved to find all four of my partners already at home. I was nervous to see them after all the ignored communications and their Instagram posts of dates I wasn't invited on, but I was tired and hurt and wanted my partners.

Unlocking the door, I stepped into the entryway, smiling softly as I heard my partners' rambunctious laughter coming from the living room. I left my suitcase by the door and made my way over to them.

They were playing the new WWE2k24 game with the new Xbox Rhea had gotten from being on the cover.

"Hey guys! I'm home!" I announced my presence from behind the couch as I walked in.

I received a chorus of "hey babe"s from all four of them, not one of them turning around to actually acknowledge me. And that stung worse than any failed title match or concussion. 

It was like my heart had been ripped out and stabbed repeatedly with a knife before being set on fire. I tried to tough it out and managed to get all the way to our shared bedroom before I burst into tears again.

My pent up feelings, mixed with the concussion, my heavily drugged brain resulting from said concussion, and the overall exhaustion from everything all at once finally came to a head as I sobbed.

I collapsed to the floor, my knees being too weak to hold me up. Crawling up into the bed, I laid there and cried into my pillow as I cradled another to my chest. I cried so hard I couldn't breathe and snot ran down my face.

Eventually, I fell asleep, having not even bothered to change my clothes or take off the makeup that was now streaked down my face. 

I just hoped that when I woke up it would've all been a dream.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

3rd Person POV

The four members of the Judgment Day sat around the living room, playing what they agreed would be the last match before they made dinner.

"Alright," Damian spoke as he stood up and began stretching out his sore limbs, "Who wants what?"

"I want chicken tenders!" Dominik shouted excitedly. 

Rhea laughed and ruffled his hair, sliding her fingers through his silky strands. "Okay, well while Dame and I get started on dinner how about you and Finn go pull Y/N out of the shower and she what she wants."

Dominik nodded like a happy little puppy before grabbing Finn's hand and dragging him upstairs to go find their girlfriend.

They went first to the master bathroom, noticing the light was still off and there was no trace of her having taken a shower. They continued on into the bedroom where they saw the curled-up figure of their girlfriend.

Finn went and turned the bedside lamp on, emitting a soft glow about the room. 

The two of them rounded the bed to face Y/N and wake her up. Dominik saw her first and stopped dead in his tracks, the blood draining from his face causing Finn to rush over.

Before he could even ask what was wrong he looked at Y/N and no longer needed to ask. 

Her face was puffy from tears, her makeup smeared and streaked down her face making it even more evident she had been crying. The pillow she held onto with a death grip had a wet stain on the top of it from previously fallen tears.

But the thing they were most concerned about, was the small bandage on the top of her forehead. Dried blood seeped out from underneath the bandage and was crusted around and in her hairline, the whole area swollen and red.

"What the hell happened?" Dominik asked Finn as they watched Y/N sleep. 

"I dunno," Finn replied in the stunned silence. "We need to get Rhea and Damian, though."

Down in the kitchen, Rhea and Damian danced around each other grabbing various ingredients as well as silverware and dishes. They made idle chat and were laughing when Finn and Dominik bounded down the stairs. 

"What'd Y/N say she wants for dinner?" Damian asked the two of them, his back turned to them as he fiddled with a dial on the stove. 

"She's asleep, but you guys need to come see, something happened," Finn told the two of them.

They both looked up from what they were doing, Rhea grabbing a towel to dry her hands. "What's wrong?" She asked as she ran around the counter and up the stairs to their shared room.

"I'm not even sure," Finn replied.

The four of them raced up the stairs and down the hallway to their bedroom, Rhea leading the way.

She slowly rounded the corner to face Y/N and upon seeing her in the same state the other two had, threw her hand to her mouth in horror as she gasped at the sight before her.

Damian, right behind her, made it to her side to see what all the fuss was about and all the blood drained from his face when he did. "Oh my god."

"Should we wake her up?" Dominik asked, like a scared child.

Rhea, ever the caretaker of the group, chimed in. "No, let's just wait until she wakes up. You guys go back downstairs and finish making dinner and I'll stay here till she wakes up."

"If you're staying here then so am I," Finn argued, taking a seat on the small ottoman at the end of the bed. Rhea nodded reluctantly before looking at the other two.

They both nodded, knowing they wouldn't win any fight they picked. They both walked over and gave Y/N a small kiss on the forehead, the opposite side of where the bandage was, before shuffling out of the room and down the stairs. Now, all they had to do was wait.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn't until an hour later that Y/N finally began to stir.

Rhea and Finn both shot up, kneeling beside the bed as Fin gently stroked Y/N's cheek as she awoke. 

"What's going on?" Y/N asked groggily, thoroughly confused as hell and not knowing anything. After any normal nap, it takes a minute to even remember your own name, not to mention a nap after that kind of extreme emotional distress.

"We're just worried about you, sweetness," Rhea explained as gently as she could. If Y/N did actually have a concussion and didn't remember anything, she didn't want to freak her out any more than she possibly would already have.

"Why?" Y/N asked, gently pushing the two of them away form her to sit up and rub her eyes. In doing so, she felt the edge of her bandage and remembered everything. From losing the match, to making a truce with Bayley, to coming home and them not acknowledging her.

Rhea and Finn saw the look that overcame their girlfriend's face. Anger, betrayal, sadness.

She pushed them out of the way again, this time harder than any of them were expecting which sent the two flat on their asses as Y/N made a move to get out of bed.

"Woah, woah, woah. Where the hell do you think you're going?" Rhea immediately was on her feet and grabbed Y/N's arm to keep her from going any further. The look she received from Y/N before she pulled her arm out of her grip was scathing. 

"Nowhere that concerns you." She began to move towards the closet, starting to grab new clothes, seemingly to change into before she grabbed a bag and began stuffing the clothes in there.

"Y/N! What the hell is going on? Please, just talk to us!" Finn tried to reason with her. 

By now, the commotion had reached the ears of both Damian and Dominik downstairs and they raced up to the bedroom, just in time to hear their girlfriend's explanation.

"Talk to you? Talk to you?! I have been trying to talk to all four of you for weeks! And all I get in response is a thumbs up! Sometimes, not even every time!" She screamed, stepping out of the closet into full view of her partners. Clothes were left forgotten on the floor, and some half-hanging off their hangers as Y/N finally released all her pent-up emotions.

All four members of the Judgment Day stood in stunned silence as Y/N kept going, now unable to stop herself even if she tried.

"I was forcefully moved away from my partners, surrounded by people who hate me and then you four go out and have date nights without me. Constantly! I had a title match tonight against Bayley, we could've had two champions and you didn't even care! I lost because I hit my head and got a concussion and you don't care!" At this point, Y/N had started to grow emotional. Each word was a fight against the myriad of tears threatening to spill over.

The four of them felt awful, how could they have neglected their girl so badly for so long to get to this point?

"We're so sorry, cariño, we had no idea you even had a match last night-" Damian's attempts at an apology were cut off by Y/N.

"Of course you didn't! You never bother to talk to me anymore!" Her partners began to reach out for her as she started fully crying, the emotions winning this fight.

"I'm barely holding on," Y/N sobbed as she curled in on herself, rejecting any attempts at physical touch from her partners. "It's so bad, that my opponent had to come to my rescue after the match because no one else will even acknowledge me."

"Y/N," Dominik spoke, the sound of his heart breaking evident in his voice.

"No, just...don't," Y/N wrapped her arms around herself as she backed away from the four of them. 

The five partners stood around in silence, each member processing their emotions. 

Once Y/N's tears had slowed down, she wiped any remains off her face before facing her partners, who now surrounded her again. This time, however, they left a spot for her to escape.

"Hey, we're sorry, okay? But we promise to do better. This is new for all of us and we admittedly didn't handle it well but we're gonna fix that, alright?" Finn explained to her gently, so as not to scare her off.

"He's right, amor. We love you, so much. We'll do anything that you ask of us, please," Damian practically begged her.

Rhea and Dominik both clutched each other, tears streaming down their faces as they were both too choked up to speak, but they nodded in agreement to both of the boys' statements.

"Okay," Y/N broke down again, walking into the shared hug between the partners. They would make it up to her, just like they always did. Everything would be okay. They would be okay.

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

say whatever you feel,

be wherever you are

Word Count - 3k roughly

Author's Note - I felt this need to write some Jack fluff since I'm been writing a lot of Jack being a complete idiot asshole lately. Thank you always for reading

Warnings - I truly can't think any

Summary - Y/N was a very social butterfly, she was blunt and witty. Not a single person that knows her would describe her as shy. But when it came to her expressing her emotions, she was definitely more reserved. Or three times Jack shows her that it isn't scary to show how happy he is, and the one time she shows him her own happiness.

Masterlist

Growing up you were never one of those people that felt as if they could show the world their every thought on their face. Maybe it was your personality in general or how you grew up, but you never showed how you felt to the entire world around you.Some people would describe you as shy for this, but you weren’t shy you were in fact a very blunt, witty person. It’s just for whatever reason you never let anyone know how a situation unfolding in front of you made you feel. It’s almost like you were always watching everyone else somehow seeing how they were responding and then reacting. Especially when it came to showing pure happiness, this feeling of carefree happiness and being lost in the moment of it. That entire idea was foreign to you.

Jack didn’t mind that you were closed off in showing your feelings to the world. He knew that you kept that part of yourself hidden from the world. A part of him actually found it like a small victory when he was able to have you act dumb with him even if it was within the private walls of your apartment. Jack wasn’t as dumb when it came to emotions as people in the media viewed him. Everyone thought of him as someone who was just a cocky little asshole who was nothing more than a hot head on and off the ice. But that was furthest from the truth, Jack was the first boy that showed you that the little moments in life could truly be some of your happiest fondest moments. Jack learned from you that sometimes not displaying all of your cards was actually better because when you were completely emotionally raw with someone it meant so much more. Jack knew you loved him with everything you had, and he loved that he was one of the only people on Earth to truly witness you being your truly carefree self. He loved how through each time you joined him in being completely carefree and happy. He felt like he was able to learn this whole new side to you even though you’ve been dating for months at this point. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It doesn’t matter where we are I’m happy with you:

Jack loved spending time with you, he actually was obsessed with spending every available second you both had free together. But due to the roadies schedule this year being insane he was about to go away for almost two weeks exactly. Since you guys started talking three months ago you haven’t spent that much time apart. The only problem was that you had a list of probably 10 ‘absolutely can’t procaste anything or my life will actually fall apart errands’ that had to get done today before your work week started tomorrow. But Jack left tomorrow morning and wouldn’t be back for two weeks. 

Jack knew that if you weren’t able to do your errands that you would probably spiral all week due to feeling behind. He also knew even though you would never admit it out loud, that you were already having anxiety about how attached Jacks’ presence you were already and how hard this first roadie would be. Thus how he came up with what he felt was his most brilliant idea in months. Luke and Quinn didn’t agree in the groupchat and called him a simp and asked how Jack became whipped so badly and quickly. Jack decided to ignore his brother’s and facetime with you to tell you his idea. You answered immediately even though you were in the middle of making sure you didn’t forget anything before leaving your place to hop in your car.

“Hi bubs, what's up? I’m in the middle of something right now.” Jack can hear the anxiety rising in your voice and can hear you being distant on the phone due to it.

“Hi baby… I have an idea.'' It's hard for Jack to hide the excitement in his voice. His smile drops a little as he hears you sigh deeply, knowing that you're probably snatching your voice a little annoyed.

“Jack, I told you I need to get all these errands done so that I’m ready for next week. Which I would have already done if you hadn’t spent the last 3 days at my place insisting we don’t need to leave the bedroom except for snacks and gatorade.” Jack can hear you continue to shuffle around in the background, probably slipping on some shoes and throwing a jacket on. 

“Yes.. which was fun but we don’t need to talk about that. Anyway, that’s actually why I’m calling you, let's have a car date.” you can practically hear the smile you know is radiating off his face right now announcing his idea to you. 

“A car date?” you shyly ask.

“Yes, a car date. We can get fast food, blast the best music, and I can drive you around and we will complete all your errands. But we also get to spend time together.” Jak rumbles off his plan and you can tell that he isn’t as confident as he once was.

“okay.” you say shyly smiling at the idea. 

“Perfect. Pick you up in 10.” he rushes out as he hangs up. 

That Sunday you spend eating way too much snacks from gas stations, fast food and having your own little karotake sessions. As Jack drives you around town one hand on the wheel the other switching between your thigh and hand. He can’t help the warm feeling in his chest as he leans over and sees a small smile on your face. 

“It doesn’t matter what we're doing, I’m happy when I’m with you.” he breaths out, and you can’t help but turn back to him as you let his words sink in. Jack knew that you probably wouldn’t respond. But when he felt you give his hand a squeeze he brought it up to his mouth to give it a soft kiss. Neither of you say anything else about it, moving on to scream singing to the next song that belts out from the speakers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I am happiest when your attention is on me:

Jack and you were on an impromptu date night in Manhattan, deciding that it would be nice to go to the city for the night. As you are leaving the restaurant knowing that the night is coming to an end but not wanting it to. Jack offers to go on a walk for a little bit and maybe find some dessert. Spending time walking hand in hand, you couldn’t help but have a small smile on your face. But then you felt the never ending buzz of your phone knowing that someone was obviously trying to get in contact with you. Reductively, you reach into your back pocket to grab your phone, finding about fifthteen texts in the last 3 minutes from your cousin. Apparently, she was freaking out about something that happened in the family groupchat. Naturally, you slowed your walking pace to try and read all the messages. At first Jack was fine with you being a little distracting but then when you completely stopped walking. But once you got distracted and stopped walking completely Jack tried his hardest to be patient. But Jack isn’t really known for being the most patient guy or being good at staying still for long. “Who’s on the phone baby?” at the sound of his voice, you glance up.

“Oh it’s my cousin they’re telling me about what happened the family groupchat.” Once you see Jack nod, you return your attention to your phone. After a few more minutes Jack’s done waiting and wants to continue their walk.Due to his quick reflexes he quickly picks you up, throwing you over his shoulder and grabbing your phone in the process. 

Immediately you start laughing, hitting his back. In the most demanding voice you can muster in the middle of your laughing fit you scream. “JACK let me down! Give me back my phone!” He knew you weren’t mad at him so he decided to push the limit with how far he could go with this as he started walking down the sidewalk.

“Nope, not till I’m done texting them telling them that you're busy with your amazing hot boyfriend. And that your boyfriend demands your attention because another minute longer he might cry.” Jack shifts your weight slightly and you can tell that he really is typing on your phone. 

“Jack stop! I’ll give you my full attention, I promise.” as you continue to laugh while you hear Jack hum in agreement. 

“Okay sent. Now I can let you down.” You can feel Jack’s arms tighten as he lightly lets you down, both of your breathing speeding up due to how close your faces are when your feet finally touch the ground. 

“You said you're always happy with me.” you mumbled.

“I am but I’m only happiest when I have your attention.” he whispers, his eyes flicking between lips and your eyes. As if he was asking if he could kiss you in the moment, you slowly snake your arms around his neck and reach up to kiss him softly. 

As you pull away you can’t help your smartass response “you're such an attention whore Jackey. But I love you for it.” As you stay in his embrace a little longer, completely forgetting about your cousin and whatever family drama it was. Simply just allowing yourself to be lost in this moment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I am happy with you because when I’m with I can block everything out:

Jack truly wasn’t afraid of his mind being quick witted, being loud or being too sarcastic. He wasn’t someone who was known for being shy about his personality. Especially when  he would go out with you somewhere and it would be like his body transformed into someone new. Someone who wasn’t afraid to scream at the top of their lungs just how happy they were that you were his and he was yours. Someone who truly felt happiest with you in their arms,

Tonight was no different for Jack at the lakehouse. He was so happy that you were able to get a long weekend off and come visit him in Michigan. As per usual for the summer house, there were people everywhere, From Luke’s old Michigan teammates, to some of Quinn’s teammates, to friends they grew up with on the lake, to Jack’s friends from when he played on the USA Hockey team. If Jack had to guess there were probably about thirty people right now inside his house  or outside at the bonfire. After spending the day with friends he was able to retreat to a lawn chair close enough to the fire to feel the warmth but far away enough that it's not insanely loud. Jack and you weren’t able to spend much of the party together sadly, due to the girlfriends of the boys pulling you away. It was nice to be welcomed but you were definitely missing Jack after having to meet so many people, you were feeling your social battery dying. As you exited the house, looking for Jack you were thrilled to see Jack not surrounded by people and just talking to Cole in some lawn chairs closer to the lake. 

Quickly you felt yourself heading towards your boyfriend, very much just wanting to be in his arms away from everyone else. He quickly caught your eyes as you walked up and you could feel yourself blush as his smile grew seeing you. “Hi baby!” Once you were in arms reach, making grabby hands at you pulling yourself down into his lap. Your back was leaning against one of the arm rests of the chair. One leg between Jack’s legs, the other swinging over the other arm rest. Your arms quickly circling around Jack’s neck trying to pull him closer to you. Usually you don’t show this level of PDA in front of people you don’t know and you literally met Cole four hours prior to this. Jack tightened his arms around you, nervous something was wrong. “Heyy babyy.. you okay?” he whispers as your face digs deeper into his neck. You shook your head yes and Jack took that as an answer, and continued to talk to Cole. Lightly rubbing your one his hands up and down your calf that was hanging over the chair. His other tightly holding your hip to make sure you won’t fall. His thumb under your hoodie slowly creases the top of your hip. He continued talking to Cole like nothing happened and Cole knew Jack well enough to know not to chirp either of you in the moment or he would have to look for a new place to sleep tonight. 

After a while Cole mentioned something about needing a refill and made his way back to the rest of the party. Jack knew that when you were ready to rejoin the world and be ready to talk to him you would. In the meantime he watched drunk people dancing to some soft country music softly singing along only loud enough for you to hear. You lightly smiled as you whispered “your lucky you didn’t go into the music industry because you are way off tone Jackey.” as you slowly move your head from his neck to his chest. 

“What I’m offended! I am a great singer.” you could hear the sarcasm clear as day on his voice. It still didn’t stop your small laugh as one of your hands went to play with the stings of his hoodie. He couldn’t help but ask if you were okay again though “did something happen or are you just tired pretty girl?” His hand on your calf went to your hand that wasn’t playing with his hoodie and held your hand in your lap. 

“Social battery.” you mumble sort of embarrassed that as an extraverted your social battery seemed to run out quicker than others. It didn’t slip past you that Jack’s hand gave you a squeeze as a form of comfort. “I just wanted to be held.” you let out the words before you even realize. Jack can’t help but lean down and kiss your forehead, knowing that you wanted to change the subject and he let you. After a half hour you can’t help but feel Jack’s head shake to the rhythm of the music. “You want to dance don’t you?” but Jack could tell by your voice that you weren’t feeling up to being around so many drunk people who were too drunk to know personal space boundaries. 

“We don’t have to baby, it’s okay.” He says making eye contact with you so you know how serious he’s being. 

“No it’s okay we can if you, I know how happy dancing makes you” as you start to shift to get off his lap, his hands tighten their grip on you.

“No Y/N.” As he reaches to cup your face with his hand, “I don’t want to dance. I like how happy I am right here with you, cause you block out all the noise. I am being here with you in my arms” As he leans in to kiss you deeply. “Okay?” he asks in a questioning tone making sure you understand what he’s saying. 

“Okay Rowdy.” as you lean further into his embrace. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I can be the real you with me:

Suddenly you were back in your apartment, the season was in full swing. It was hard at times but you were slowly getting used to your apartment door becoming a revolving door due to Jack’s schedule. Jack started spending more nights at your place then his only because he said he missed being with you as much due to all the back to back roadies the Devils’ have had this month. At some point tonight Jack was supposed to come home and you physically felt your body shaking of energy at the thought. Craving something sweet you decided to make some brownies and figured that you could have them with dinner. Since you knew Jack was coming over you decided to make them gluten free so he didn’t feel terrible about eating them and breaking his diet a little. 

Your text to Jack has still been left unanswered about what time he’s coming home today but you knew he was busy finishing up with the media team. As you entered the kitchen you turned on spotify and connected it to your bluetooth speaker, randomly shuffling your playlist. After washing your hands you got everything out and started making the brownies. As you were standing there making brownies listening to Revival by Zach Brynn came on. Slowly you felt yourself softly singing to the song, giggling as you remembered Jack singing this song to you all those months ago at the lakehouse. Slowly you felt your voice sing louder and as the song got louder and Zach kept singing about how he feels reborn. Slowly you started jumping and twirling around to the lyrics. You're not sure if the music is too loud or just being stuck in your own world. Next thing you know you feel arms sneak around you, and slowly move against you. At first your body froze, scared, until you felt Jack’s voice. “Hi babygirl, i missed you.” Slowly you let yourself continue to get lost in the song. Both allowing yourselves to get lost in the song and kitchen dancing. After the song slowly came to an end, you felt yourself slowly stop dancing but neither of you pulled away yet.

“Hi Jackey, welcome home” you whisper looking up at him, as the next song slowly starts playing in the background. 

“Hey” he softly mumbles as he leans down and softly kisses your lips, no rush at all for anything more just pure love in the moment. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t stop dancing when I came up behind you.” he admits softly.

You shrug your shoulders “I don’t know, I guess I can be my real self around you, I’m not scared of showing you my emotions.” As you hear yourself admit this out loud you realize just how big of a deal this really is not only for yourself ,but  for Jack and your relationship.

“God I love you, but I really love when you let yourself be happy baby.” he admits, dipping his head down to steal another kiss. 

[theemporium]

#13 with remus lupin 🥰

13. “You want me, don’t you?”

. 

It was an unspoken rule amongst the group that nobody ever mentioned the tension between you and Remus. 

No one was quite sure why but it seemed to be a rule that everyone mutually agreed on, despite never having actually discussed the topic—both between themselves and between you and Remus. They just watched the endless flirting and pining and lingering gaze and accepted that maybe one day, one of you would act upon your feelings. 

And to be completely honest, you thought the same. 

But months passed and doubts started to grow and now you weren’t too sure. 

He would always sit next to you at breakfast, making your coffee and placing it in front of your plate before you could even say ‘good morning’. He would always offer to carry your books and accompany you to the library when you wanted a silent study session that the Gryffindor common room could never offer. He would always find excuses to be physical with you, whether it was an arm tugging you closer when you felt cold or thighs pressed against each other because he insisted you squished into the spot next to him on the couch.

But he never once asked you on a date, or made a move, or even just admitted that he did, in fact, like you.

You started overthinking and worrying and the realisation that you loved your best friend started to stress you out when you weren’t totally sure where he stood, so you did the only reasonable thing anyone would do in your situation—you started to distance yourself from Remus. 

Remus noticed. Of course he noticed pretty quickly when one morning you suddenly started sitting beside James and Lily. And then the confusion turned to hurt when he noticed how you’d always sit next to Sirius in large group settings. And then his feelings bubbled into something more when he noticed you sneaking away to the library with other classmates or even by yourself. 

However, it wasn’t until two weeks later when Remus actually confronted you on the matter. 

The Gryffindor common room was bursting with music, cheers and cheap alcohol smuggled past the professors as they celebrated another win against Slytherin that blasted them ahead in the Quidditch cup this year. You were happily settled in the corner, half-drank drink in hand and cheeks flushed as you laughed and cheered James and Sirius dancing on the tables. 

You hadn’t even noticed Remus approaching until he was right beside you, his head dipping down as his whispered words met your ear. 

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

Your head snapped around, lips parting in surprise as a wave of familiarity and longing hit you. Merlin, you had missed him more than you expected, and it made you feel a little pathetic. 

“Remus,” you said his name because you couldn’t say anything else.

“Glad to see you still remember who I am,” he answered with a hint of amusement in his tone. “I wasn’t sure considering you’ve done your best to ignore me the last fortnight.” 

Now, over the years, you had dealt with a lot of different moods from Remus. You prided yourself in being quite sufficient at devising how the wizard felt. Whether he was moody because he didn’t get enough sleep and just needed a nap to refresh himself. If he was anxious or hungry or pissed off or—most commonly—done with whatever nonsense the other boys were trying to rope him into (even if he would eventually agree). 

But this. 

This was something you knew all too well. Your mind racked for the date, counting back the date and you knew—you knew it was a few days until the next full moon. 

Remus Lupin was a kind man, a gentleman who respected everyone around him no matter what. But around the full moon—especially days before—he was something else. 

“C’mon, doll, y’know I don’t like it when you’re quiet,” he murmured, reaching to grip your chin between his fingers. “Why were you avoiding me?” 

“I, uh,” you cleared your throat, your cheeks flushing under his watchful gaze. His lips were twitched up a little, so close to a smirk. “I haven’t been avoiding—“

He lightly tsked, shaking his head softly. “Don’t lie to me, baby.” 

“Remus, it’s not your fault, I swear—“

“And now you’re avoiding the question,” he hummed and his thumb lightly traced the bottom of your lip. “Answer the question.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything, your heart racing and mind whirling at the way he was looking at you, the way his fingers traced along your lips and his body moved towards you until you were pressed against the wall, Remus blocking you out from the rest of the party. 

“You want me, don’t you?” he murmured, his eyes darkening at the way your tongue darted out to lick your lips. “Your pretty little head is just getting in the way, isn’t it?”

“How—“ 

“I like you too, doll,” he murmured, his hand now cupping your cheek as he tilted your head up to catch his gaze. “But I don’t like when you ignore me for two weeks for no bloody reason.” 

“M’sorry,” you whispered to him, swallowing a little when his thumb pushed against your lips, parting them and slowly sliding his finger into your mouth. 

“I know, baby, I know,” he mused as your lips wrapped around his finger with ease, your wide eyes staring up at him. “But it’s fine, I can think of plenty of ways for you to make it up to me, hm? What do you think?” 

All you could do was nod, letting him take your hand and guide you far away from the party to show you just how much he enjoyed being ignored.

.

[coolprettyleo]

maybe i will finally learn my lesson? - begin again au ☆

wc: 1.2k

tw: sad, angst, rejection, talks about sex. no actual smut tho. borderline alcoholic tbh

ryan leonard x hughes sister au!

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

frankie fell back onto her bed with a soft thud as she tried to catch her breath. she looked at the boy beside her with a hopeful look hoping to gosh he would stay the night and cuddle her. she just needed some form of reassurance.

he never ever wanted to stay over though.

“i gotta go, the guys are going out tonight” he says as he gets out the bed acting like he was talking to some stranger. what frankie didn't realize was that they basically were.

“do you have to leave?” she says in a sad voice kneeling on the bed. she hated how he never wanted to stay and talk. was that so much for a girl to ask for these days?

“frankie, im all spent for right now, but i mean if im feeling it later on, i'll stop by”

is he fucking serious.

it had honestly been a while since frankie had felt that much rage. he really did only think of her as a fuck buddy.

she knew what she was getting herself into, when she agreed on their little agreement, but in the movies it always ends with the guys falling in love with you. right?

“oh my gosh. just leave. like actually” she said getting back in bed and turning her back to him. which left him dumbfounded. why would she be mad he had to leave?

“did i do something?” he asked confused as he finished putting his cloths on.

no answer.

that pissed drew off. she had no reason to be all pissy with him.

“are you mad because im going out with the boys? why would that bother you? were not anything, frankie. im allowed to go out” he said. still starring at her back.

“oh don’t worry. you’ve made that very clear to me drew” she says, her voice wavering due to the fact she just felt so foolish.

“whatever, you’re annoying me. talk to me when ur done being crazy” he said walking out and slamming her door in a fit of rage.

to say frankie took it totally fine would be dishonest. she sobbed in a fetal position all night. while blasting foolish one by taylor swift.

that woman really does have a song for every situation.

she had honestly never felt so alone.

of course she’s not actually alone; she just refuses to go to anyone and burden them with her problems. it’s not like she can call her parents and her brothers due to the fact she can’t lie to them. she knew they were going to ask something like 'how'd practice go?' and whatnot so she's been forwarding their calls since Wednesday when she quit the team.

she could also call her friends. or her ex teammates. did she even have friends?

she was alone.

___

she sits in her room finishing up and assignment when she felt like doing something. usually she would get drunk and go from there, but no. if the last week has taught her anything; it's that she's becoming a new person. and the new person wouldn't black out after every minor convenience.

so in the spur of the moment, she decided she was going to rearrange her room! which is what lead her to where she was right now; outside the freshman hockey house.

while moving her bed from one side to another, she found drews hoodie. so being the mature, new, amazing person she claimed to be... she decided to give him back his hoodie, as a form of ceasing the deal. this is a supposed to be a step forward is it three steps back?

frankie walked up the front steps and as she lifted her fist to knock she halts, when she hears multiple voices coming from inside. not wanting to end her and drews situationship in front of his teammates; to save them both the embarrassment. she quickly trashes her plan and decided to just head home.

but when she heard her name is when she decided against that.

"frankie?" she hears drew ask.

"yes dude. its actually so obvious she wants you after what your saying she did yesterday"

he told them about the argument?

well she couldn't really get mad, if frankie had best friends she would of probably told them too.

"well i dont want her like that and she knows that"

frankie felt her heart crack.

i mean she told herself he didn't like her back, but hearing him say it, is a whole different level of pain for someone who just oh so hoped to joke about their situationship one day over coffee as he watched the morning news while their kids got ready for school.

foolish one, frankie hughes.

"no way your gonna reject her, she's so hot. what the hell is there not to like" one of his stupid teammates said.

"I mean she's the nicest and one of the hottest girls I've ever got with dont get me wrong, but some of the shit she says makes me question if she's being for real or not" drew said not knowing the match he was lighting.

"I think I know what your talking about, is it when she said she thought denver was in texas?" one of his other teammates chimed in.

"bro yes. that actually left me speechless" he says. frankie felt like burning the house down at this point.

"she's lucky she's got hockey" another voice said.

"had'

the hoodie she had in her hands slipped through her fingers. just like the heart drew held. the heart he never wanted to hold.

she backed away from the door, never wanting to slash anyones tires more. she wanted to commit arson. the way they were talking about her, made her want to throw up.

she can take the fact he didn't like her back. thats okay. if he didn't feel the butterflies she felt it wasn't no one fault. but mine.

but the fact he stood their and called her stupid? who the fuck even knows geography like that? she felt so many emotions run through her veins and the one overcoming the rest was the one that held the power over her tears.

"frankie?" oh my god. no. why the hell did I not run home?

she turned her head to see ryan leonard standing there. one of drews friends. someone she had considered to be her friend. but if the rest talk about her like that, him, will, and gabe probably do too.

"you didn't see me here, ryan" she said as she covered her face trying to push past him.

"wha- hey! what's wrong? who did this?" he said grabbing her wrist and seeing her crying eyes. he knew who did it. he just needed to hear a confirmation before he went inside and beat his ass.

"nothing. let me go" she said wiping her tears.

"im not letting you leave here alone hughes, i know how you get when your this sad. I dont want to wake up tomorrow and hear that you got hit by a damn bus for gosh sake"

one thing ryan hated was when she would drink her feelings away because that meant she was going to be reckless. she honestly is reckless.

"well then do you want to come?"

I got tired so im done writing but I wanted to post this! also ! I have no hate towards drew, its all going to add up in the future when I start the other aus I have planned but for now drew is like anyone else and he's learning and growing. so bear with me!

[ceilidho]

Ok if this doesn't sound like an idea you'd be interested in then disregard, i don't want to bother you 🙂 BuT! It's been itching the back of my brain since forced throuple au and creepy-apartment!ghost has compounded it so:

Forced throuple but a sort of android verse with some body snatching horror thrown in for flavor. Reader's husband (Soapy boy) dies suddenly and in their grief a lot of stuff has gone into disrepair, so they mail order an android to help around the house and with crippling loneliness. The company sends Ghost, a refurbished security model now named Simon, and he ends up being pretty helpful despite the silent brooding. Hell, sometimes that even helps as scary dog privilege so you let it slide (big mistake dumby, that android is falling for you in the process of taking care of you ohhh no-).

But maybe Ghosts old security features make him super observant (obsessive) paired with his new "fix it" code make him come to the conclusion that, actually, reader could still use her husband and mail orders a Soap-bot-3000 without letting them know :O. Watch the horror unfold as Reader wakes up one morning to her VERY NOT dead husband in bed and both Ghost and Soap acting like nothing is wrong :)))), maybe some "Simon reverts fo Ghost" too as the story progresses

this is from awhile ago (apologies, anon) and so wickedly weird and cool :)))

androids that are so realistic and bodies so malleable that they almost feel lifelike, like they're flesh and blood. you never wanted to actually give in and purchase one because you have personal qualms with the idea of something so human-looking being programmable and subservient to you; it's just always felt wrong and borderline cruel, and johnny used to concur with you when you spoke about it. that was then though. years and months and weeks before the accident.

now it's midday on a tuesday and you can't even get out of bed. there are two weeks of dishes in the sink and the lawn is overgrown and the feral cats haven't stopped by in days because you haven't had the strength to get up and feed them. your voicemail's been full for days. your sister stopped by and insisted when she saw the state of your house. "at least for a few weeks," she pleaded with you. you can always return it when you're back on your feet. she's already ordered you one from 141 Labs before she's even out the door, making you promise to give it a shot.

when you open the box, you worry that you might've ordered the wrong model. the size of the android they sent you feels out of place, like he's meant for private military companies or as a bodyguard for celebrities. not depressed accountants who can't get out of bed because their husband died two weeks ago. but it's your name on the receipt, your address. so when his blue eyes flare neon when he's first activated and all six feet and four inches of him sit up in the crate (that had to be wheeled in by two delivery men, you recall with a small amount of horror), you wait patiently to introduce yourself.

maybe this one was sent to you because of the defect. he wears a mask because the only layer of skin on his face starts from the bottom of his face down. at first you roll the mask up only to shudder at the exposed wiring and metal where cheekbones should be. you roll it back down.

he comes with a name. Ghost. that's his model, you surmise from the lengthy instruction booklet you're provided. the whole situation feels weird at first; his presence in your house always catches you off guard, even though, you suppose, it's his house now too. you jump whenever you walk into a room and he's just there, silent, so large that you nearly always think Threat first before you recognize him. maybe it's not fully your fault. he makes no effort to signal his presence, moving silently from room to room when he helps carry out the garbage or swifter the living room. sometimes you catch him staring at the photos of you and johnny that still line the top of the fireplace.

you try to be equitable, insisting that he take the guest room as his own. Ghost won't hear of it, following you into your room when night falls; ominous. you have to lock yourself in the en suite to change, heart beating away because you know he's standing just outside the door, like a cat waiting to be let in. shaking hands drag your clothes down. you stare blankly at the door while you shower, fingers twitching when you pass a washcloth over your nipples.

you think there's something wrong with you. you're sick or something. you're sick or something worse because your husband died two weeks ago and the thing in your house isn't even a human and still your stomach clenches when you think of him waiting for you in your room, knowing that you're naked behind the door. it's taboo; it's not something that's done, at least not something that's spoken about. people don't sleep with their androids. recent widows especially should not be thinking about fucking their androids.

two weeks go by. you can't even think about johnny without wincing these days.

"he was your husband."

you look up. Ghost says it like a fact, not a question. you're in the living room sorting through insurance papers while Ghost vacuums under the sofa (he lifts the corner up with just a single hand; you swallow, throat already dry). neon blue eyes zip across your face when you look over at him. you wonder sometimes what he sees there, etched into the plains of your face.

"yeah." your smile is tight, pained. "johnny."

he looks back down to the framed photo in his hand, studying it. you wish you could ask him what he's thinking about, but you worry that would be just another privacy stripped. you can't ask more of him.

"what happened to him?" he finally asks, looking up again.

you feel it catch in your throat. "he, um - he." it doesn't come out. your nose stings before you can even try to get more out. you grimace, shrug instead. you try to smile again, but it's warped, unpleasant to form much less look at. don't ask, it says, whatever you do, please, please don't ask.

"you miss him?"

you blink at him, misty eyed. "ye - of course."

his eyes are so, so blue when he stares across the room at you. it's unnerving to look at; terrifying to find yourself under his scrutinizing gaze. what do androids even think about?

"I understand." he puts the photo back on the bookshelf and walks out of the room.

sometimes you catch him watching you too intensely; rare moments when he doesn't seem entirely mechanical. you wonder if one day you'll roll the mask up and there'll be skin there suddenly, a real flesh and blood person. it feels entirely possible some days. he moves too fluidly, has his own quirks and intricacies that seem newer each day.

you don't try it. the minuscule amount of professional space between the two of you is an absolute. you worry sometimes what you'll let happen if you ever let that distance collapse. already he sleeps motionlessly in the chair beside your bed, refusing his own room. he powers down with his eyes still open, the blue flickering away to a dark grey. it's only mildly reassuring.

when you open your eyes in the middle of the night though, he stares back at you, eyes dark and sightless.

you worry sometimes that you might have made a mistake, letting your sister talk you in to this.

it's the arm tucked around your waist when you're doing the shopping, freezing for a second before the hand on your hip squeezes and he pulls you towards the fruit and veg. it's the menacing stare from over your shoulder when a man approaches you in the checkout lane, offering his condolences (an old colleague of your husband's, he says) and an invitation to dinner. you open your mouth only for Ghost to answer for you.

"No." it thrums out of him, a different modulation. you stare helplessly as the man's face goes white and he makes an excuse to leave, offering you another lame apology.

it's the hand that tugs you out of the store by the back of your shirt, Ghost's voice rumbling like he doesn't know you can hear him. saying something about how you don't need another man in your house. that you had johnny and now you have him.

[mimirekka]

On your mind (Ace’s Pov)

Some weeks had passed since Ace had joined the Whitebeard Pirates. He was still getting used to his new situation. The idea of defeating Whitebeard was still on his mind, but it slowly faded away as he befriended the members of the crew. Everyone on the ship was being nice and patient with him, treating him as if he had always belonged by their side.

Well, everyone except one person… For some reason, you seemed to avoid him at all costs. Ace didn’t care much the first times it happened, it’s not like he was actually trying to be close to anyone. Also, there were a lot of people on the Moby Dick, why should he care about one person ignoring him? But, as months passed, it started to annoy him a little bit.

The way you walked away from him anytime he was getting closer, the way your eyes looked at his own before you looked away in a rush, how you stayed slient any time he tried to talk to you… It made him upset, as he didn’t understand what was he doing wrong.

He was curious about you. He wanted to know you, to understand what you thought about him and your reasons to act that way towards him. At first it was only that, curiosity. And his curiosity started turning into something else, as he saw the way you acted around everyone else. You were gentle and caring with everyone, always laughing and smiling. He was growing attached to that side of you, the only one you wouldn’t show him.

And so the idea of getting closer to you stayed on his mind, growing inside of his head as an impossible wish. Because he could see that you couldn’t stand being by his side, and he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. He watched you from the distance, as long as he could before you noticed him and escaped from his eyes. It was enough for him, he got to look at you, he shouldn’t want more than that until the feeling went away.

He tried his best to ignore it, to pretend it didn’t annoy him to watch you laughing around everyone else but him, to see you smile happily only when he wasn’t around, to see how your mood changed if he wanted to join your table at dinner… It bothered him, making him slightly jealous, even if he would never admit it.

But the feeling didn’t disappear as time passed. In fact, it grew stronger, to the point where he almost couldn’t stand it anymore. He wanted to be closer to you, to be able to look at your eyes directly, to talk at you, to even touch your skin… He wanted to be the one you smiled to, to be one you talked to about your day, to just sit by your side as he listened to your voice… He wanted to see that side of you personally.

You were always on his mind at this point. Whatever he did, he was thinking about you. Whenever he fell asleep, he was dreaming about you. Wherever he went, he was wondering if you would like to go, too. Whatever he ate, he wanted you to taste it as well.

Not much time passed until people started noticing Ace’s behavior towards you. He didn’t get surprised by it, as he wasn’t good at hiding what he felt towards you. He didn’t mind people gossiping about what he could be thinking about you, he simply didn’t care enough.

He only cared about what you thought about him, and he was determined to find out, whether it was good or not.

♡➳➳➳➳➳➳♡➳➳➳➳➳➳♡➳➳➳➳➳➳♡

Ace's pov everyone! I want to make a final part for this little story, so stay tuned(? lmao

Thank you for the love you all gave to my first post, it made me really happy as I hadn't written anything for years 😭

Hope you like this one as much <3

[icycoldninja]

Hi Ninja I hope you're doing well!

I want to make an NSFW request involving the DMC Boys + V with a shy reader bUTTT The reader is a praiser during the Devil's tango

Like they(Reader) just feels fuzzy from all the seggz where the reader accidentally slips out a "You're doing good"/"Good boy"/"You feel so nice in me" during the tango

Mainly praises, and the boys go "OH?" *seggz intensifies* (you can go all out on this one, Ninja!) LOL ANYWAY--

Cuz like, they didn't expect this from the reader, I guess? And they (depending which of the dmc boys we r talking about) may have gotten caught off guard from that because they were expecting the reader to just be shy during *it* as well.

Please take your time! I really love your stories and headcannons! (I hope nobody has made this request before. If so, Im sorry! You can ignore this!!)

No one has made a request like this before. (unless I forgot and if i did my apologies) thank you and enjoy!

Sparda boys + V x Shy!Praiser!Reader NSFW headcannons

¤ Dante ¤

-Dante is used to you being quite quiet during sex, hardly ever uttering coherent words, (though that might be because of him) so when you started praising him, it was a pleasant surprise.

-You were just feeling so good with Dante's thick, throbbing cock deep inside you, you couldn't help but whimper out a few words of praise towards him.

-"Danteee~, you feel so, so good inside me..."

-In response to your words, Dante Triggered. You felt a sudden surge of warmth, followed by a hot, hard thing pressing against your cervix. Dante's fiery demon dice was warming and mashing up your insides--God, did it feel amazing.

-You came so many times, you even lost consciousness for a few moments.

-Dante kept on going though, all because he wanted to hear you praise him more.

■ Vergil ■

-Vergil is pretty used to you being shy all the time, so naturally, he expected you to act the same way during sex.

-And you kinda were, key word: "kinda".

-At some point, you decided to stop squealing in pleasure and instead praise your boy a little, not realizing what you said until you'd said it.

-"You're doing so good--feels so good--ahh~..."

-Vergil's first thought was, pfft, like you need to tell me that. His second thought was, well, since you enjoy it so much, why don't I up the ante?

-And that is the story of how your organs got absolutely destroyed, your cervix pulverized, and your pelvic area in general obliterated because Vergil Triggered inside you and wouldn't stop pounding until he passed out. You walked with a cane for 2 weeks.

□ Nero □

-Nero doesn't really mind that you're so shy, he thinks it's cute.

-What's even cuter is how you whimper and hide your face while he's rutting into you.

-When you randomly burst out with a bit of praise, Nero was 1% surprised, 99% more turned on.

-"Neeerooo--you're amazing! Aah~! Amazing!"

-Of course, the only gentlemanly thing to do in this situation was to fuck you even harder than he was before, putting all hid energy into his hips to the point that he actually zoned out and lost awareness of his surroundings.

-You definitely woke your neighbors up with how loud you were being; thankfully no one filed any complaints.

● V ●

-V cannot help but chuckle a little at how adorably shy you are.

-Not like he has much room to talk--he hardly talks at all.

-Hearing you praise him was a welcome surprise, though. There was something about the way you whined his single letter long name that just sent fire coursing through him.

-"Good boy! V...you're such a good--good boy!"

-V wants more praise. He craves more praise. He finds his fingers traveling down to your clit, rubbing circles into it faster than you've ever felt before.

-Before you know it, your back is arched, your eyes are rolling back, your tongue lolls out, and you have the most intense orgasm of your life--the first of several that you will have to endure tonight.

[chasedeys]

https://www.tumblr.com/chasedeys/767908190114447360/httpswwwtumblrcomchasedeys767907676016476160

Jesus Christ he pulled up on Joe ???! I need this devotion

he did 😔😔🤚🤚🤚

the Lakers Date in gifset form and in video form like look at joe staring at ja'marr like that and giggling and shit oh my god joe ja'marr is sure as hell funnier than you but really? ja'marr putting his arms around joe which is just. yeah. look at that little scratch and then actually reaching his arms out and then just saying something short and random 😭 you know. casual. and joe barely reacting to it ok whatever. oh and also there's this hilarious twitter thread in reaction to it lmao.

this is the wowing backstory (everyone say thank you to carmen's big brain!!) to the date and kind of why this felt like a psychological attack beyond the implication that this was A Basketball Date. basically ja'marr flew his ass to arizona for joe because the man was having the shittiest week and was sooooo weirdly messy about it because he posted a vague blurry ass insta story of his location and then deleted it (?????) god what is wrong with him. like the photo was obviously a quick little snap of him in a car with just a location posted in the middle of the night like it didn't matter what the pic was only the location and was posted the minute he arrived (?) like he was announcing where he was for a very specific reason and then deleted it like it served its purpose and he didn't need it anymore. (is that not basic teenager in love 101........)

on joe being miserable -> like joe went to a club and flipped people off and i think one of the events he had was the signing with obj and kd (beloved kevin durant <3 but its sooo random why the fuck was kd there im so confused as to what this event was) and joe's expressions throughout all the videos and photos were either flat as fuck or straight up not-enjoying-shit. the next time he gets snapped in public it's with ja'marr on a basketball court with matching outfits finally smiling and laughing right and doing silly shit like clapping all up against ja'marr's face like a besotted dork......mind you he clapped because ja'marr was on camera probably getting introduced to the stadium so everyone could technically see it so it was like he was teasing the ever living shit out of ja'marr who was trying to be all cool throwing peace signs only to get stunted on by his embarrassing ass man who just wouldn't let him live jesus i'm sorry but i'm genuinely wondering why he clapped that way. look at his impish little smile joe oh my god stop.

but he was really finally acting all goofy and silly and smiling and laughing genuinely when ja'marr showed up and yapped at him!!!!!!! insane. shining example of devotion and codependency tbh.

some Speculation! which i love to do unfortunately for everyone around me:

this was planned from the start way before joe went through apparent hell or something. they bought the tickets way back with dj and sam and this was like the only thing joe looked forward to which is why he was finally smiling and laughing and actually managed to get through the week.

from that event they had together kd gave tickets to obj (pretty sure he was also there but like on the opposite side of the court?? idk) and joe and joe requested/bought more tickets and invited ja'marr and sam and dj because he was in heavy need of Friendship Love Moral Support from his guys. yeah.

(the favorite. the full of love theory) ja'marr found out joe was Going Through It (from joe himself? from obj? from his manager? the internet? other friends? who knows) and flew his ass to arizona having bought the plane ticket within minutes of ending the call/text regarding the joe situation. knew joe needed some refreshing/healing so he searched up what arizona had going on for them that week or he was planning on watching the game from his home anyway idk and immediately bought court-side tickets for the game. invited dj and sam so joe would be surrounded by more close friends who he would feel comforted by. arrived in phoenix in the middle of the night, snapped a quick photo for ig announcing where he was, joe saw it and sent ???????? in reply, ja'marr then deletes the ig story bc he doesn't want anyone else asking shit too, and finally crashed joe's pity party and has him smiling within minutes. am i crazy. yes. am i free. also yes.

THE CLOTHES THING they're literally wearing yellow and purple -> lakers and coincidentally lsu's colors!!! technically suns' too i think. did they plan on matching or did they each plan on wearing lakers colors in the first place (these divas...) and just had that one-brain-ism thing they got going on. ja'marr was sooooo pretty btw 😭😭 his faceeeee the dimple the hairrrr i miss his cornrows he looks sooo good in bright mustard yellow toooooo somebody save me from myself.

OH and dj reader and sam were there too okay 😭 like they weren't there alone. that la lunch date was like this lakers date 2.0 bc they weren't alone damn it but it weirdly seems that way 😭 when you're in love etc. or maybe because they just weren't mentioned as much as these two :( but I'm really pleased that joe could smile surrounded by his teammates <3 joy etc.

okay bye 😭