#because refreshing my notes is like the only way for me to stop the thought spiral for like 1 minute until it starts again

[anotherpapercut]

I feel like being on Tumblr is harming my health far more than any of the drugs I ever do

[1mlei]

Dead on Main Soulmate AU [Part 3]

In this AU everyone is born with a tiny red heart tattooed on the inside of their wrist. If you're close to your soulmate the heart will beat, and when you meet them the heart turns to gold. If your soulmate dies, the heart will fade to black.

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One thing that Jason hated about being the adopted son of Bruce Wayne was when he had to accompany the man to galas and other public events.

Bruce was very understanding, he would let Jason stay back home for most of the events he attended, but as Bruce's son Jason could only skip out on so many events before people started asking questions.

Granted, there was no reason why Jason was skipping out other than that he simply did not want to go, but the fewer people asking questions the better.

And so, Jason begrudgingly dressed up in a disgustingly expensive suit, put on a fake smile and pretended to be someone he was not to the faces of the same people who would turn their noses up at him as soon as they thought he, and more importantly Bruce, couldn't see.

It was exhausting to be honest, but Jason understood why it was necessary. These people were like bloodhounds when it came to sniffing out drama and gossip. If they got even the slightest hint that there was something weird going on in Wayne Manor they would not rest until they found something.

Of course their secret night-time activities were better hidden than that, but it was better not to give the socialites a reason to suspect anything in the first place.

Still, after nearly an hour of just wandering around exchanging fake smiles and empty small talk Jason was getting bored.

He headed over towards the refreshments, hoping to bring his energy back up even just a little bit.

As he made his way over, Jason took note of a girl who looked to be around his age, wearing a black and purple dress. She seemed to be inspecting some of the available appetizers with an odd intensity.

Jason silently walked up next to her, sure to keep a polite amount of space between them as he picked up one of the fancy foods that looked good enough for him.

He turned to look at the girl who still appeared to be judging the table, from this angle he could see she was wearing quite dark makeup, and more eyeliner than half the women in the room put together. He thought it suited her well.

She must have sensed his eyes on her, because she stopped her judging of the food and turned to meet his gaze instead, one eyebrow quirked in a silent question.

Jason tried for a casual, friendly tone as he spoke,

"Is something wrong with the food? Or did that one sandwich just happen to offend you?"

The girl gave him a weird look, but shook her head,

"No, just hoped there would be more options, there's meat on almost everything."

Jason looked back at the table, and she was right. The vegetarian options were quite limited.

Before he could think of something to say the girl sighed and turned to face away from the table,

"Whatever, it's not like I was that hungry anyway, just wanted something to do before I die of boredom."

As Jason quickly finished his own appetizer he smirked at her,

"Now that is something I can relate to. If I have to pretend to care about the weather one more time tonight I swear my brain will melt."

The girl let out a short huff of laughter than sounded like it agreed with him, which Jason took as a victory. Look at him go, actually having a somewhat friendly conversation at one of these events. Who would have thought?

The girl seemed to have the same thoughts, as she reached out a hand towards him,

"It's nice to know someone here has some sense. I'm Sam Manson."

Jason shook her hand with a smile,

"Jason Wayne"

Sam had a mischievous smile on her face as she answered,

"Oh I know, even if I didn't recognize you I could have guessed by the looks my parents are sending me."

Jason looked to the side discreetly until his eyes landed on a middle aged couple that were sending twin icy glares their way. He recognized a few people in their circle as some of the more influential guests in attendance tonight, and was sure that had that not been the case they would be rushing over to fetch their daughter.

He turned back as Sam continued,

"They definitely think I'm bothering you, talking about boring things like environmentalism or animal cruelty. Suppose I should go bat my eyelashes at some other rich guy that can talk about important things like his own money for a full hour."

She sent him a pained grimace as she started backing away, and Jason laughed sympathetically,

"Best of luck with that, it was nice meeting you Sam."

She nodded at him with a smile,

"You too Jason."

Then she walked away, soon getting absorbed into a circle of people to join a conversation Jason was sure was absolutely riveting.

He let out a short sigh, steeling himself before he walked off in another direction, doing the same thing.

When Sam said that she was dying of boredom, she was being polite.

She was regretting agreeing to come to this stupid gala by now.

When her parents had first asked Sam to attend with them she hadn't even heard them out before she turned them down, which they knew to expect.

That was definitely why they had immediately dropped the bomb that the gala was happening in Gotham of all places.

They knew exactly how badly Sam wanted to visit the city, the Gothic architecture speaking to her soul. While her parents didn't necessarily approve of her love for the dark and gloomy, they sure knew how to use it to their advantage.

With the added promise that she'd have plenty of free time after the gala to properly experience the city, she was sold.

Sam had even compromised with her mother when it came to her dress. Her mother wanted her in a pink and poofy abomination of a dress, while Sam insisted on her usual black.

They had met somewhere in the middle for once, the dress having none of the pink, but a lot of the poof. Since she'd had to choose between sacrificing color or shape, Sam would have to live with the inconvenient skirt, it was far better than the slimmer pastel pink dress her mother had tried to get her into. And the dress even had purple accents, that was close enough to pink.

After Sam reminded her parents that darker colours would probably suit the theme better than pink, they had agreed. She had even been able to sneakily put on some makeup in her usual style.

Considering both the setting and her attire, this was overall one of the more bearable galas Sam had attended.

But after having enough bland small talk to last her a lifetime in the span of one night she was ready to gouge her own eyes out.

She'd had the one short encounter with one Jason Wayne, who was very down to earth for being the son of the richest man there. Though, she supposed given his background that was to be expected.

She wasn't complaining, even just one conversation that didn't melt her brain was an accomplishment in her book. Unfortunately, she knew by the looks her parents sent her that the longer she kept 'bothering' a Wayne the more she'd have to pay for it later.

So she had grumpily walked away, engaging in a few more basic conversations as she went. She knew that most people in attendance didn't pay her much mind. The rebellious daughter of one of the less stinking rich families there, she didn't exactly have a lot of pull.

Good, she would prefer they not acknowledge her at all to be honest.

Eventually though, Sam gave in and snuck her phone out to text her friends for a distraction. Tucker was unhelpful like expected, happy to laugh at her suffering. She sent a vaguely threatening text his way, which had the desired effect of shutting him up.

Luckily, Sam had at least one friend that could sympathise with her. Maybe it was due to Danny's new responsibilities as prince, he was suddenly much more understanding about having to put up with high society.

Danny: you want me to swoop in and save you yet? :P

Sam: at this point i'd take a rogue attacking us over staying here any longer.

Tucker: you know saying that shit in gotham is just asking for trouble

Sam: I swear I'm gonna do it, fucking watch me.

Tucker: aight lemme just hack into the cameras real quick

Danny: can we try not to provoke Fate more than necessary? that's gonna become my problem soon :(

Sam: Yes we know, it's very sad. You know what else is sad? The things I'm about to do to the next old geezer that tells me to smile :)

Danny: alright let's not resort to murder maybe. omw.

Sam: Murder would be the kind option, I'm not feeling kind.

But also not a great idea, if my parents see me leave I'm dead.

Danny: easy solution, they won't see you leave

meet me outside in 20

there is a balcony, right? or else this is awkward

After assuring her friend that there was indeed a balcony, Sam slowly made her way outside. She only got caught up in a few short conversations on her way, and before too long she was stepping out into the chilly fall air.

She leaned against the railing, looking out over the Gotham skyline. The heavy pollution of the city made truly fresh air hard to come by, but at least it was pleasantly brisk outside. It certainly helped Sam wake her mind up after too much time spent in brain-dead conversation.

She shifted her gaze down to the cityscape spread out below her, well aware that she wouldn't see Danny coming. He would probably be flying invisibly before he even crossed the state border just to be safe. The last thing he wanted was Batman's attention.

Danny had slowly been coming to terms with the fact that he would inevitably meet some members of the Justice League at some point, especially once he became king, but for now he was doing everything he could to stay off their radar.

At this point nobody in Amity wanted the JLA involved anymore, most people understood that the heroes were not properly equipped for the town at all, and considering the fact that the most likely outcome of the JLA showing up now was Phantom having to deal with a possessed Superman, the people of Amity Park were happy to keep the other heroes out of it.

The attacks had significantly died down over the past year anyway, as Danny came more to terms with his ghostly side. When the accident first happened he had been trying desperately to cling onto his humanity and deny most of his ghostliness, which had led to him not fully understanding the other ghosts.

Once Danny accepted that he wasn't fully human anymore, and that he was still the same person despite that fact, he had started learning more about his other half.

Turns out, in a dimension where all the residents are unkillable (since they're already dead) duking it out in a friendly brawl is considered normal. Once Danny learned about this, he'd started visiting the Realms more often.

He visited regularly to fight it out with his old rogues, to pay his less violent allies a visit, and in general just learn more about the culture.

It was during one such friendly visit that Danny had learned about the rules of conquest in the Infinite Realms. Upon defeating Pariah Dark he had immediately earned the title of Crown Prince, and was to be crowned King once he was of age.

Hadn't that been an unpleasant surprise? Danny rarely went more than a day without complaining about his future position.

As Sam was lost in thought, the cold bite in the air reminded her, it was already fall. The council had agreed to let Danny wait until the summer after he turned sixteen to be crowned.

His birthday had been a few weeks back, which meant there was less than a year left.

Sam was simultaneously sympathetic for her friend, since he clearly didn't want the title and the infinite power that came with it, but also incredibly proud of him.

Had it been anyone else receiving such a position she would have worried about what all that power would do to that person.

She did not have that worry when it came to Danny, that was what made him so incredible in her eyes. Only Danny could be handed the key to infinite power on a silver platter, and want to pass it on to someone else.

She realized her thoughts had started wandering like they usually did when she thought about her friend for too long, but she couldn't help it.

Two years ago Sam had been in love with Danny, and though they'd come to the joint decision that it was better far for them to stay friends, that didn't mean Sam's admiration for her friend would go away.

She had simply learned to love him as her best friend instead. Not that it had been easy, but Danny had been understanding. Had it not been for the fact that they both had their own soulmates somewhere out there waiting for them they might have tried harder at making a relationship work, but it simply wasn't meant to be.

After emotions had settled a bit they had grown all the closer for it, a new sort of understanding between them.

Finally, after Sam had been standing there reminiscing for nearly ten minutes, she felt a familiar comforting chill in the air next to her, and just a second later Danny faded into view leaning casually against the railing next to her with a shit-eating grin on his face,

"Sorry to keep you waiting, traffic was awful on the way here."

Sam pointedly rolled her eyes at Danny's usual dry humor, but let go of the railing to face him instead,

"Let's leave quickly, my parents have definitely noticed I'm missing and I'd rather not be here if they come looking."

Danny let out out a quick "Yes ma'am", wrapping one arm around her waist, fumbling for a second trying to find her legs through the stupid poofy skirt. Sam sighed is exasperation and pulled at her dress to get it out of the way,

"Unfortunately it was this or bright pink, so we'll have to live with the extra skirts."

This time, Danny easily scooped her up bridal style, the skirt bunched up in Sam's lap. Had this been two years ago there would have been a fluttering feeling in her chest, but that was then, and Sam had long since gotten over those feelings. Instead, she just sighed when he quirked an eyebrow at her,

"Live?"

Sam smacked him in the shoulder,

"You know what I meant, now get going ghost boy."

Danny, used to Sam's dismissal of his jokes by now, did as she said and lifted off the ground slowly, letting his invisibility wash over the both of them, and then he was off into the night sky.

They'd have to return to Sam's hotel room before her parents, but that wouldn't happen for at least a few more hours.

Until then, an aerial tour of Gotham didn't sound too bad.

Jason had quickly grown bored of the dull conversations again.

He carefully excused himself from the older woman who was talking his ear off, and tried to act like he had a destination in mind as he walked away.

He ended up taking refuge in a corner that was conveniently covered, he doubted anyone would notice him staying back there for a few minutes as he took a breather.

However, after only a moment of taking cover, he spotted a familiar figure across the room. The one person he'd had a bearable conversation with during the night was walking out onto the balcony.

He considered it for a minute. He didn't want to intrude if Sam was trying to get some time to herself like him, but he also thought she had seemed to appreciate a normal human to talk to just as much as him. Surely she wouldn't mind his company too much?

Mind made up, Jason decided that he could use some fresh air himself and started slowly making his way over.

He took his time walking over, stopping to suffer through one more conversation on the way as he allowed some time to pass. He didn't want to rush after Sam the moment she walked away on her own and risk coming across wrong, he just wanted some air and decent conversation, damn it.

Maybe he could ask her about the environment to break the ice, it had been the first example she gave of a topic she supposedly liked to talk about, so she must have some interest in it. Jason wasn't overly excited by the topic, but it was sure to be more interesting than anything else being talked about in the room.

Maybe he could test the waters and see if Sam was interested in books at all, that might actually wake him up. She seemed like a person who would enjoy a good book. Maybe they could exchange recommendations.

Spurred on by the lure of talking to someone who both didn't care who his dad was and had more to talk about than business, Jason once again made his way towards the balcony after a few more minutes.

As Jason walked out into the pleasantly chilly air, he stopped short as soon as he laid eyes on Sam.

She wasn't alone.

That wouldn't be a problem on it's own obviously, they'd had one short conversation, Jason really didn't care who she talked to.

No, the problem was exactly who she was with.

Jason couldn't see the stranger's face, as both of them had their backs turned his way. All Jason could make out from behind were a pair of fully black cargo pants and a black hoodie with some white highlights. They matched the shock of white hair on their head, it was so bright it may have been glowing. Actually, the stranger's whole body appeared to be giving off a faint glow.

Jason was confused, he was pretty damn sure this stranger had not been at the gala. So how the hell had they gotten to the balcony?

Jason stuck to the shadows as he snuck closer, trying to get a better look.

He was stopped short after just a few more steps.

There was no way.

Feeling a strange sense of déjà vu, Jason shakily pulled at the sleeve of his suit jacket.

The heart was beating again.

Jason's brain fumbled with the different pieces of the puzzle.

His soulmate was nearby, and the only people close enough were Sam and the newcomer. He'd had a whole conversation with Sam earlier, and his tattoo had firmly remained still. He remembers shaking her hand, and his tattoo stayed mockingly black.

But now it was beating, and there was only one other person present.

A person who had an oddly inhuman look about them.

Jason thought back to the last time he'd felt his tattoo move. He had been sure that he'd been saved by the ghost of his soulmate.

His soulmate had been dead for two years, yet they were standing in front of him. But they did not look like a.. regular person. Or a living person, rather.

Was his soulmate really a ghost? If so, how were they here?

And why were they here talking to someone other than Jason?

When his soulmate had saved him from.. something.. Jason had been sure that they came to him specifically to protect him. He'd taken comfort, in the fact that his other half had done something so impossible, had crossed the line between life and death just to save him. To give Jason something they didn't get, a life to live.

As Jason fumbles, not knowing what to do but knowing he should do something, anything, the pair in front of him move. The stranger smoothly picked Sam up bridal style after a short struggle with her skirt. Jason has barely a second to hurriedly walk towards them before gravity seems to disregard the pair, and they float upward slowly before fading from sight completely.

Jason's breath catches in his throat, and he knows they're gone because the pleasant chill that had enveloped him the moment he walked onto the balcony goes with them, and all that remains is the biting cold of the fall weather.

So, floating away and turning invisible, they sure seem like the traits of a ghost. But really, what did he expect? Jason's soulmate was dead, there was no other explanation.

No, what bothered him, was that Jason had spent one year thinking he would never get to meet his soulmate, then another thinking he'd have to wait for the afterlife to meet them. That had been some comfort, he'd live the life his soulmate wanted him to, then they'd be united when it was time.

But his soulmate had been there. Fully visible, corporeal, and they had been there to meet someone else. Did Jason not matter to them, the way they did to Jason?

Jason had felt the heart on his wrist beat before they had flown off, so surely his soulmate's heart did the same. And yet, they had simply left without sparing Jason even a glance.

Jason slowly walked over to where his soulmate had been standing mere moments ago, using the railing to steady himself as he looked out over Gotham. His soulmate was out there somewhere, in the same city, and yet Jason had no way to reach them.

Feeling more alone than he's felt in many years, Jason just stands there. He sheds no physical tears, but the cityscape grows blurry in front of him as his eyes grow misty. He doesn't let a single sound escape his lips, ignoring the cries lodged in his throat.

But inside, the cries of his heart resounds through his entire being as he grieves the loss of his soulmate once again.

First part | Previous part | Next part | Masterpost

Tags: @craftyexpertchild @666deaddash999 @lazerswordweilder @bellathecatastrophe @wanderwithwings @vexishereandveryqueer @moonsbluekingdom @princessoftheturtles @phoenixdemonqueen

Thank you for reading <3

[tiamathh]

Compliments from the Universe

Note: From the universe and me to you, you're all doing so well keep it up and take care of yourselves! My Paid Readings have been reopened if you want to check them out there's only 17 slots <3

Masterlist | Paid Readings | Paid Feedback

Hi Pile 1! The universe is here to complement you on your ability to stay truthful and vulnerable even in situations that make you want to lie and avoid and run away. You embrace change and don't run from it which makes life a tad bit easier for you than others who keep trying to claw their way out of inevitable situations. You are courageous and beautiful and people want to court you or ask you out because of how fun and flirty you seem.

Fast paced those are the words that can be used for you, but in a good way of course you want something and you go for it, you don't wait for life to happen and life rewards you by keeping things interesting whether for good or for bad, usually for the good though. You're free spirited and have the ability to be alone and stay with yourself and your thoughts which is very tough for some people (me) to do, this ability of yours does not only make you very self aware but also puts you on a path to self actualisation and being the best version of yourself.

You're sensual and I heard the song "All I do is win win win no matter what" so you have that going for you, even if it seems like things are not going your way, you somehow still keep control of yourself and ground yourself till you end up making things happen for you. You do not go down without a fight and have a natural affinity towards healing. Your presence itself is like a bandage on a cut, warm and safe and protective.

Hello Pile 2 <3 The universe is here to give you your flowers for being someone who knows how to protect your peace, you have the ability to save up and aren't a big spender which also provides you with stability and a good eye for investments. You may be someone who starts a lot of projects and even though you may not see them through, you still use whatever you've learnt from the previous project into new ones, whatever you learn you never let go to waste and always carry it with you. You have the kind of speech which can pull people in, the way you talk makes people want to listen to you, not only because of your words but also your voice helps calm others down.

You're blessed with the ability to see through people's bs and save yourself and the people close to you from such individuals as well. You carry yourself with a lot of grace and poise and may be very lucky when it comes to finances but this is not all luck it's also based on how you work hard for whatever you have. You don't shy away from controversy or conflict either, you know how to fight and you'll do it if you need to.

You refuse to trap yourself within the conventionality of society and let yourself do what you want and live how you want, you don't fear judgement, the only thing you fear is not being able to experience life the way you want which is very commendable. You entirely understand the concept of living for yourself and not for anyone else which makes the universe give you what you want if you ask nicely.

Hi Pile 3! The universe wants to tell you that they're proud of how you are extremely firm when it comes to any decision you make and how you have the ability to balance rationality and emotionality and do them both justice whenever you make your decisions. You're someone who has grown into this role which is even more commendable because you were able to overcome your inability to make decisions and may have been wishy washy.

You have this feeling of restlessness and freshness to you, like the wind at the top of a mountain, filled with energy and gusto but just so refreshing. However, you know when to stop and stand still, you know when it is right for you to take a step back and self evaluate. You're someone who's very sociable and loveable, a lot of people are naturally drawn to you and you may be someone who steps into the spotlight with ease, you do not have troubles when it comes to mingling with people from any walk of life and could also have a lot of wanderlust within you which encourages you to experience new things and everything the world has to offer.

You're generous and willing to help anyone out especially when they're just starting out, I heard start ups so that could be important for someone. You have this ability within you where you are very good at laying foundations for anything, your foundation with your life and what you want to do itself is very strong and almost unshakeable and you may not experience a lot of tower moments in your life because as soon as you clock that something is not working for you or meant for you, you get rid of it yourself and don't force the universe to intervene.

DO NOT PLAGIARISE, REWORD, REPHRASE, REPOST OR COPY MY CONTENT all rights reserved @tiamathh

[purplecoffee13]

NFWMB - part 4

Summary: “Y/N and Harry both attend Sophie’s party, and it doesn’t exactly pan out how Y/N thought it would.”

Wc: 5.6k

Tropes: boxer!harry x innocent!reader

Warnings: physical violence, verbal threats, angst, mention of SA, fluff, jealousy.

A/N: tell a friend to tell a friend… SHE’S BAAACCCKKK!!!! Hi guys, thank you for being so patient. I was literally unable to write for weeks and they were the worst weeks of my life, but I’m finally doing better and my creative juices are flowing! Pray with me that it’ll last🙏

Also THIS IS NOT PROOFREAD sorry I was just too excited to get this out🤭😋

P.S. I recommend you listen to ‘Ice Cream Man’ by RAYE. Not only does it apply to the sorry (warning: SA) but RAYE is also an incredible artist!!

General Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Y/N had never observed herself in the mirror for this long. She was certain that at one point she was going to start to look disfigured to herself, but she just needed to make sure that everything was right.

During her childhood, and especially her adolescent years, Y/N had always been told not to be too vain, but to always look good. There were contradictory balances that she's had to sit in the middle of for as long as she could remember, and she was good at it, until tonight.

For some reason, this burgundy dress she was wearing had to be matched perfectly with her shoes, bag and make-up, and right now she was absolutely sure that it didn't.

Instead of throwing her blow dryer at the mirror like she wanted to, Y/N took a deep breath and closed her eyes, hoping her mind would occupy her with a distraction good enough to give a refreshed perspective when she'd open her eyes again. Of course it was him that flashed through her mind the second her eyelids fluttered shut. She should not have been surprised, because wasn't that what this was all about?

Y/N hadn't been able to stop thinking about Harry since... well, actually she couldn't exactly remember since when because that's how long he's been floating around her head for. Seeing him multiple times a week wasn't helping much either, it gave her new material to think about whenever she had a second to spare. It was like a disease, spreading through her entire body, except she didn't mind and the symptoms made her feel more alive than ever.

Just the sole touch of fingers on her waist, or shoulders was worth replaying a million times in her head, as were all the times he'd say something that could even remotely be said in another, less appropriate context. Y/N felt like she had to visit a confessional or something, because it was getting out of hand. But she knew this wasn't bad, and the only thing she was doing by fighting this was stopping herself from getting something she—deep down—felt she didn't deserve.

Despite these pitiful revelations, Y/N still found herself nitpicking at every single aspect of her appearance as she got ready for Sophie's birthday party.

With only five minutes on the clock until her Uber driver would be outside, Y/N decided to accept the black heels she'd put on and the small shoulder bag she'd settled on. A final look in the mirror indeed gave her an epiphany: brown lip liner.

After darkening her lips with the pencil, at last it felt like everything had fallen into place— with the exception of the nerves dwarreling around her lower stomach of course. Even as she sat in the Uber with the nice woman who was talking about her kids as she drove her to the party didn't do one thing to take her mind off the excitement she was feeling.

Y/N tipped her driver before she got out of the car and made her way inside, where she was greeted by an elated—and perhaps already slightly intoxicated—Sophie. The long, dark green dress she wore complimented the blonde shade of her hair, and her make-up was out of this world. Y/N made sure to note that when she congratulated her friend.

It only took five seconds of scanning the room before she spotted him, standing by the bar as he—Y/N could only assume—waited to be served his drink. It felt much like being a magnet to a whiteboard, the way she was so drawn to him. Y/N knew she should've considered herself lucky that another couple came into greeting Sophie, because otherwise she wouldn't have been let off the hook so easily, but that gratefulness was far down on the list of things that took up her thoughts as she made her way to the man at the bar. And when he turned around, she may as well have punched herself then and there, because Harry looked breathtaking.

He always did, of course, but seeing him in a dark grey suit with a soft pink dress shirt, his hair pushed back and all clean shaven... it did something to her.

From the looks of it, Y/N took the guess that her appearance also threw Harry off in some kind of way, since the stutter in his greeting was too apparent to ignore.

"H— hi." He said, mouth slightly agape as his widened eyes took in Y/N. "You look beautiful."

She could have sworn her intestines were being swapped all around inside her because those nerves in her stomach tripled in size as she eyed the floor for a second while heat rose to her cheeks. Y/N had never been good at receiving compliments, mostly because she had been taught that not immediately accepting them was the only way to be worthy of them. Besides, it would make her conceited and rude to just agree.

And yet, all those rules on how to behave flew out the window the second those green eyes were on her, and she didn't care that she jeopardized her worthiness. She just wanted to soak in the words he deliberately told her, and feel good about them. So she didn't argue him on anything, and instead responded:

"Thank you. You clean up good yourself."

The lopsided smirk on Harry's face made Y/N want to jump up and down, for no other reason than that the sight of it just made her really happy. And for a moment she wondered if it couldn't just stay like this forever? Pure, sincere, and not strong enough to be soul crushingly destroyed by anyone, including her own self sabotaging tendencies.

"Oh, this old thing? Just threw it on." Harry shrugged, his eyes fixated on Y/N. She laughed at his ridiculous attempt to be cool. He leaned against the bar, his head tilting a bit. "What are you having?"

His head nodded towards the bar, and Y/N took it as an invitation to get closer to Harry. She stood next to him, just a little closer than necessary, as she hummed and thought about the hundreds of drinks she could possibly order, and totally didn't settle on the same one she always gets.

"I think I'm going to get a cosmopolitan." She answered, and surprised her smile as much as she could as she watched Harry flag down the waiter and order the drink for her. She quite liked this gentleman-like treatment.

"Very fitting, angel." He said lowly as the waiter put down the drink in front of her.

Y/N turned her head to him, a raised brow challenging him slightly. "And why is that?"

Harry moved to lean his entire back against the bar instead of just one side, and shrugged his shoulders as he observed the room before locking his eyes onto her again.

"Because you're just as sweet as that cocktail." The grin that his comment was accompanied by would have been enough to make Y/N's knees buckle right then and there, but the fact that she was holding onto a bar helped a great deal.

The sight of Oscar talking to some other colleagues of hers also helped with that. She could quite literally feel the color drain from her face as she took him in.

It wasn't like it was unexpected; she knew there was a big chance he'd be there. But between Harry, the amount of work she had to do, and all of her self-defense training, she hadn't had much time to think about hypothetical confrontations with Oscar.

"Are you okay?" Harry's gaze darted from the direction in which you were staring back to Y/N. Only when her eyes settled on him again, a part of the worry in his eyes slightly faded. She mustered a smile, nodding her head and hoping it would be enough to convince him. From the look on his face she knew that he wasn't convinced in even the slightest, but she was surprised to hear him switch the topic of the conversation.

"I want you to meet Greg." He said, and Y/N hummed in agreement, grabbing her glasses and following as Harry lead them to her colleague's boyfriend.

"I've already met Greg." She noted, still walking closely next to Harry, whose hand was ghosting over the small of her back.

"Yeah, but I want you to meet him as my best friend."

Y/N was sure that whatever was rattling in her stomach was doing cartwheels as she took in the determination on Harry's face. It didn't seem like he was shying away from what he was implying, and yet she wasn't certain. Because what if he didn't mean it like that at all? Y/N needed to be 100% sure that her suspicions were correct, because the weight of the humiliation that hung over the risk she could take was too great to bear. Besides, she didn't want to jeopardize the self-defense classes. It was a place of safety for her now, she couldn't lose it.

She didn't have much time to dwell on it given that she found herself in front of Greg. Quickly shoving her thoughts away, she conjured a smile and gave the man in front of her a hug.

"How have you been?" Greg asked, grinning widely as he waited on an answer. "Heard you've been taking self-defense classes."

The way he eyed his friend, and the manner in which Harry's eyes glared at Greg, caused a wave of of giddiness to flood over her. This had to mean something, right? Or was she just fishing now?

"Uh, yes, I have. It has helped me a lot." She  answered with rosy cheeks. Greg nodded his head.

"That's great, Y/N. I mean, Harold here is a great teacher, isn't he?"

She snickered, turning to Harry. "That's your full name?"

"No, Greg just likes to be an asshole from time to time." The agonizing smile on his face told her that Harry was a bit on edge, nervous almost? Y/N focused on Greg again.

"Yes, he's amazing." She said, and could feel the blood rush to her ears as she took in her own words. Instead of throwing out a bunch of excuses and rectifications on the construction of her sentence, she zipped her mouth shut, and let the compliment hang in the air. Her heart was racing, and she didn't dare look Harry in the eye, but from the small glance that Greg threw his way, she knew that he'd had some sort of reaction to the compliment.

"Well, stick around and soon you'll be strong enough to take out any man. My Sophie could knock me the fuck out of she needed to, and I'm glad she can." Greg beamed as he mentioned his girlfriend. Y/N was filled with a warm feeling in her chest as she observed Sophie's boyfriend. Her friend was a boss of a woman and to know she was getting the love she deserved was most heartwarming.

The moment was cut short, though, when another person entered the conversation. 

"Harry Styles?!" A joyous shriek—for lack of a more polite word—came from a short blonde woman to Y/N's left. The woman didn't pay any mind to Greg nor her as she headed for Harry, giving him a long, very very long hug. Y/N swallowed.

"Lindsay, I haven't seen you in ages." Harry's voice was kind, he sounded excited even. Maybe it was an old friend, or classmate, or—

"That's because the last time you saw me you broke my heart, hon." She giggled. Harry's brows raised ever so slightly.

An old girlfriend. Right, Y/N should've known that. That just made this entire situation a whole lot more awkward, and if there was one thing Y/N didn't care for it was unpleasantries like these.

So, she decided to do the one thing she was best at: escape. Downing her drink in one go, she wiggled her glass, catching Harry's attention.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom and then get another drink, see you later." Y/N's smile was sweet and full of sincerity, but her legs were heavy as she made her way to the bathroom, as if carrying an invisible ball and chain around each leg. She didn't want to be away from Harry, she wanted to snarl at that ex-girlfriend of his and tell her to back off.

But it was irrational and petty, and not to mention totally inappropriate, so she distanced herself instead. Y/N felt a headache looming, her body fighting her mind for the cowardly attitude it encouraged. She spent way longer in the bathroom than she needed to, eventually only going back after a minute long silent peptalk that she performed to herself in the mirror.

When she returned to the room she saw Harry still talking to his ex, only Greg had now left them and was dancing with Sophie and some others. Y/N thought over her options, and decided to join her friend.

She tried her hardest not to look for Harry in the crowded room, letting the music capture all of her attention. Sophie and Greg were performing all kinds of dance moves that had Y/N throw her head back in laughter, and in that moment everything felt so good.

Simple and good, that was joy. She hadn’t felt that in a long time.

After countless of songs and dance battles on the lit up floor, Y/N decided to take a break and treat herself to another drink. Sauntering over to the bar, she waited her turn order another cosmopolitan, and took a step to the side to let other people order as well.

Y/N was still looking at her fidgeting hands, lost in deep thought, when a familiar scent roamed through her nostrils and stiffened her entire body.

"A Long Island ice tea, please." Oscar's voice sounded from beside her. Y/N didn't dare to look up and stayed focused on her hands instead. She could see his hands from the corner of her eyes, they were desperately clamping onto the bar, knuckles  white.

Without even touching her, Oscar had managed to put a tightening strain on Y/N's chest that felt too uncomfortable to make her move. She was glad to see her cosmopolitan arrive, and was quick to move to the other side of the bar. In the quick second that she glanced at Oscar, she noticed his eyes were following her.

When he started moving closer to where Y/N was standing, the tenseness in her body began to develop into a full-blown panic, and when a set of hands settled on her waist, she couldn't help the hasty gasp that left her mouth before she turned around.

Harry looked surprised when she met his eyes, and she let out a sigh of relief to see that it was only him. Y/N let out a breathy chuckle as she slowly shook her head.

"Gosh, you scared me." It was noticeable in the strain of her voice that the stress hadn't left her body entirely, and Harry seemed to notice that. He raised a brow.

"Are you okay?"

She nodded eagerly, not wanting to steer the conversation this way. "'M fine. What about you?"

"Frankly, I'm a bit disappointed." Harry admitted, and Y/N frowned at the confession. Her head tilted, she asked:

"Why?"

"You told me I wasn't going to get rid of you so easily the other day." He noted, the memory of your conversation brought a smile to your face. "And yet I lost you after about ten minutes."

Y/N chuckled. "I was giving you some space. I didn't want to be rude."

"Angel... in any case, when it comes to Lindsay Holloway, please be rude." The sincerity in Harry's voice made her burst out into giggle.

"I take it you weren't planning on rekindling old flames then." Y/N said, and when Harry confirmed it with a firm nod, she grimaced. "And here I thought I was being a good sport, leaving you alone with her."

"Trust me, angel. She is not the woman I would like be alone with." He leaned forward, his face way too close to Y/N for her to function normally because of it. The overwhelming urge to just— kiss him was almost too great to resist. The way his eyes took her in was so exhilarating, and it didn't make her insecure because she didn't need wonder what he was thinking; it was written all over his face.

"Oh." Was the only sound that Y/N could utter as she processed Harry's words. His eyes flicked from hers to her mouth as he softly pushed her back against the bar, grinning at how her doe-like eyes were observing his every move.

"Aren't you going to ask me who I would like to be alone with?" Harry asked, and it was clear that he was taunting her. But it didn't occur to Y/N to mind, as she immediately obeyed him.

"Who would you like to be alone with, Harry?" She posed the question, watching his jaw clench at his name falling from her lips.

"Y/N!"

Both Y/N and Harry's head whipped to the side where Sophie was standing with a slightly distressed look on her face. Almost out of instinct, it seemed, Harry took a step back. A pang boomed through Y/N's chest.

"I need to talk to you, now." She demanded, not even a hint of a questioning tone in her voice. She meant business. Y/N nodded and slid past Harry, grabbing Sophie's hand and letting her friend lead the both of them outside.

There were some other people outside, smoking cigarettes as they chatted with each other. Every person stopped to greet Sophie with a smile or another 'congratulations' as they walked more towards the alley, where there were less people. Y/N's heart was racing from both the encounter with Harry and the nervousness that had built up thinking of the possible ways that this talk with Sophie could go.

She hadn't expected Sophie to start squealing in excitement, but it was better than anything she could've imagined.

"Oh my god! You and Harry?! For how long has this been going on?" She asked, and Y/N swiftly shook her head.

"There is nothing going on." She replied, the monotony in her voice doing little to hide the frustrations about the truth of that sentence. "I mean, there might have been a start of something going on before we went outside."

Sophie winced. "I'm sorry, I cockblocked you. I just wanted to make sure you knew what you were doing."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that you don't seem like someone who is into casual hook-ups."

Y/N's face twisted in discomfort, and Sophie panicked at the sight of it.

"Not that Harry only does hook-ups! I didn't mean it like that. I just— I hadn't heard you mention him before and I didn't realize you were so close until last week." She instantly began to rant, and Y/N grew defense from her words.

"He offered me some extra training to build more muscle." She shrugged.

“Hmm, sure he is.” Sophie hummed playfully, wiggling her eyebrows and causing a snort to fall from Y/N’s lips. It took a few moments to control their schoolgirl-like giggles, but when they’d managed to pipe down, Sophie’s face turned a bit more serious.

“I just wanted to assure you that Harry is a good guy. You can trust him, you don’t have to hold yourself back.” Her eyes were soft as Sophie spoke, both her hands wrapped around Y/N’s right one. There was a stinging sensation in Y/N’s chest at the mention of the tendencies she thought she concealed quite well, but she was far from offended by it. On the contrary; she was relieved that Sophie could see right through her regarding this topic, because without this confirmation, Y/N would’ve doubted this situation for too long, probably causing Harry to grow bored and leave.

“Soph, we’ve been looking all over for you! We need to do the Photo Booth!” Stacy, another lawyer from the firm suddenly appeared and interrupted the conversation, shrieking in excitement as she hurried over to Sophie and grabbed her arm. She barely paid any mind to Y/N, at least not until Sophie gave her a guilty glance. Stacy conjured a confused smile of her own, her mind clearly battling about the fact that she seemed to recognize Y/N, only she had no idea where from.

“I’m going to borrow her for a little while.” She said, and it was only now that Y/N realized how nasal this Stacy sounded. Sophie had complained about it a dozen times, and now she finally understood the issue.

“Go ahead, have fun, I’ll find you later Soph.” Y/N said, smiling as she watched Stacy and Sophie walk back inside. She took the moment alone outside as an opportunity to clear her mind. To assure herself, that she had the confirmation that Harry liked her as well, and to just take the leap.

“Cigarette?”

Y/N’s head snapped towards Oscar, who was standing only standing a few feet away from her. She glanced at the other people smoking outside; at least she wasn’t alone. She turned her attention back to Oscar, and shook her head.

It stayed silent between the two, and since Y/N didn’t want anything to do with Oscar, she slowly started to walk away. But then, a sentence left Oscar’s mouth that had her frozen where she stood.

“Are you going to accuse him of assaulting you too?”

Y/N lost her breath. Did he really just say that? She pressed down the immense wave of nausea that threatened her to puke all over her pretty dress, and focused on her breathing before she turned around to face him.

“What did you just say to me?” Her tone was sharp, laced with a feeling of injustice. She tried to steady herself as much as she could, but she could feel her hands trembling from the adrenaline.

“I should probably warn him. Who knows what you’ll do to his life.” He sneered, his tone smothered in resentment. Y/N hadn’t even told anyone about what Oscar had done to her, and here he was, accusing her of ruining people’s lives.

“You need to leave me alone…” She growled, balling up her fists to channel her frustration into anything else than the wall or his face.

“Or what? You’re going to tell on me? Seriously, you don’t think that two men with a stellar reputation would make for a more believable story than a self-pitying gold digger?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“What? Mad I’m right? You do only target successful men right, don’t you?” He asked. The amusement in his eyes was disgusting and it made Y/N take a step back. She was seething with rage over Oscar’s words.

“Stay the hell away from me, Oscar.” Y/N fumed, turning around to walk inside, and when she felt a hand around her wrist, she couldn’t help the instinct that caused her to plant her fist in Oscar’s face. Just the way she had been taught.

It was with way more force than she’d ever managed to do before, and she was pretty sure she heard something crack—although she couldn’t make out whether that was Oscar’s nose or his knees as he fell to the ground.

It was like she could finally breathe, seeing him lay on the floor, groaning in pain. She’d been strong enough to defend herself from danger. Pride filled her chest, although it was vague in comparison to the rage that had overtaken the rest of her body.

Y/N flinched when she felt a pair of hands on her shoulders, but calmed down at the sight of Lindsay, Harry’s old girlfriend, standing beside her. She looked quite worried as Y/N let her guide her to the rest of the people who were still smoking outside. They all began to ask variations of the same questions: ‘are you okay?’ ‘Did he hurt you?’. Y/N frowned upon noticing Lindsay hurry back inside, but she didn’t pay much mind to it anymore when the guy next to her offered a cigarette. She shook her head, a bit taken aback by the timing of the action, and was just about to answer the question of the woman in front of her, when the huddled up group opened up and Harry appeared in front of her.

Crouching down, his eyes roamed over her entire body before settling on her knuckles that had already begun to turn red. His gaze met Y/N’s.

“Are you okay?”

She nodded.

“What happened?”

It only then occurred to Y/N that Oscar was probably still laying there, and the quick glance she shot to her left was enough for Harry to know what was going on. He stood up and walked over to Oscar, who had gotten up himself and met him in the middle.

“What the fuck did you do to her?” Harry asked. His voice was stone cold, everything about him was, actually. Not one hint of emotion could be traced in his tone, posture or really anything else. It would’ve been scary, had Y/N had the ability to feel scared of Harry. But she just couldn’t; he made her feel safe.

“Listen man, you need to avoid that girl. She’s fucking crazy. She already tried to ruin my life, don’t let her threaten you to ruin yours.”

All the pent up anger that had seemed to subside slightly once having socked Oscar in the face raced back all at once as the words registered in Y/N’s brain. But before she could get back up to her feet, Harry struck a punch, bringing Oscar to the ground once again.

Leaning forward, he grabbed him by his collar and pulled him up far enough so he could hear him when he said:

“If I ever hear you talking about her like that— better yet, if you come near her again I swear to god I’ll kick out every last one of your teeth… to start with.” Harry warned before letting go of Oscar’s collar with a shove that made a couple of people take a physical step back, and even made one person behind her gasp. Harry didn’t seem to care about any of that as he turned around; he just headed straight for Y/N.

Nor did he didn’t even so much as acknowledge Lindsay, who thanked him, but Y/N made sure to send a grateful smile her way as Harry wrapped his arm around her and led her inside. He didn’t say a word as they entered the room again and walked towards Sophie and Greg.

At first, Sophie was smiling at the sight of Y/N and Harry, but upon spotting her friend’s pale face, the corners of her mouth lowered into a thin line.

“What’s going on? Are you okay?” Her hands were on Y/N immediately, fixing her hair and brushing her fingers against her pale cheek. Y/N knew that she probably looked like she had seen a ghost.

“I’m going to take her home.” Harry announced, and relief washed over Y/N because she didn’t really know what to say right now. Faking a smile, she tried to assure Sophie that it was alright, but her friend was already nodding before Harry had finished speaking.

Throwing her arms around her, Sophie hugged Y/N so tightly that she nearly lost her breath. When she finally let go, the look on her face was determined.

“I love you, have a good night. If you need anything, call me.” She said. Y/N nodded.

“I love you, have a great night.” She turned to Greg. “Watch her.”

The weak joke still managed to make the couple chuckle—probably out of pity—and Greg nodded dutifully, wishing her a good night with that playful wink of his. When Y/N turned back to Harry, he held out her jacket. Her face settled into a confused frown; how did he manage to get their coats so quickly. Was he a wizard or something?

Harry bid the couple farewell as well and soon they were on their way back to the car. Y/N was tense about going outside again, but her shoulders relaxed upon seeing an empty street. Oscar had left, thank god.

The car ride was mostly silent, aside from a few questions about the AC, and an attempt of Harry’s to casually ask for her address again, only to have it at the top of his search list on Google Maps. Y/N had to hold back her giggle.

The rest of it consisted of listening and moving their heads along to whatever song was on. It was mainly rap songs, and Harry knew them all, which was logical considering it was his playlist. There was something attractive about Harry knowing all these songs, it made him look a bit more… intimidating.

Y/N really needed to figure out what deep rooted issue caused her to like that.

She had to admit she was slightly disappointed when he pulled up in front of her apartment complex, so she took her time to turn her head to him, the hint of a smile on her face still. Y/N couldn’t help it; he just made her comfortable. She unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned towards the middle of the vehicle, closer to Harry.

“Thank you, for dropping me off.” She said in a near whisper. The corners of Harry’s mouth tugged up, and he—in turn—closed the distance between even more, their faces only a few inches apart now. Y/N’s hands began to sweat.

“Anything for you, angel.” His voice was raspy, and despite the cockiness he radiated, there was still concern behind it.

But it was over— for Y/N it was over. Her self-control, an entity of its own, seemed to exit her body leaving her with nothing but him. All that adrenaline had channeled into a pressing urge to put her lips on his, to touch him, feel him all around. It was over.

Nothing held her back, not even her own stubborn mind, as she leaped forward and kissed Harry.

While she had expected him to maybe be surprised about her action, the way his mouth welcomed her—invited her, even—was enough proof that he had been ready for her.

Kissing Harry was like jumping off a cliff and diving deeper into the ocean. For once, she didn’t feel like to love was to drown. No, she submerged herself into the water and felt more at home than she had ever felt at the surface. Was it possible to feel at home in someone’s arms?

With a hand on her jaw, Harry lured Y/N forward further, challenging her by pulling back a bit. Needing his lips like it was her own source of oxygen, Y/N didn’t hesitate to lean further, and in all her desperation, climbed right onto his lap.

The short dress didn’t leave much restrictions for her heat as she automatically began to grind her hips. Only when Harry let out a pained groan that shot straight to her core, she’d realized what she was doing— what they were doing.

Pulling away in a flash, a gasp left Y/N. Her lips felt all puffy, much like Harry’s looked.

“S— sorry, I didn’t know what came over me.” Y/N shot in her defensive mode, but Harry only shook his head.

“Don’t say sorry, angel. I—” he cut himself off, and met her eyes. “I don’t think we should do this right now, because—”

Shit, no, shit, shit!

“Oh, yeah, no of course, no problem. I mean, you’re right.” Y/N began to rant, cheeks heating up in embarrassment. How could she ever do such a stupid thing. She was quick to lean over and grab her bag. “But thank you, for bringing me home, and I’ll see you Tuesday.”

Before Harry could even get a word in, she opened the door on the driver’s seat and climbed out of the car, smashing the door shut harsher than she intended to. She winced at the sound, but kept walking. This rejection was humiliating enough as it was, she didn’t need Harry to elaborate on all the reasons he didn’t want her.

She heard the car door open, but by then, Y/N had already entered her building. In the chaos of it all, she decided to sprint up the stairs, wanting to get away from the situation as fast as possible, and in that process forgetting that she lived on the sixth floor.

She was out of breath when she finally reached her apartment, but not as out of breath as she would have been a month ago. Damn Harry, those classes were really working.

Once inside, Y/N leaned against the door, dramatically letting herself slip to the ground as she buried her head in her arms and let out a frustrated groan. Why was every next step she took on the aspect of love always destined to be her most embarrassing one yet?

She huffed, massaging her temples as she soaked in the shame and slowly felt it wither away. She knew the mortification would wane, but the sudden awareness of that ache between her legs, she knew that wouldn’t just go away. With a sigh, Y/N hoisted herself up and got ready for bed before lying down and digging into her nightstand’s drawer to grab the only thing that could cure the ache down there.

Her racing mind was a reminder that getting this out of her system wasn’t going to be done very easily…

Taglist: @meetmeatyourworst @mema10 @seafoamwhispers @namoreno @inkedskin @fangirl509east @mellamolayla @lizsogolden @prettydelilah @harry2121 @babegoals @hermionelove @kierramcduffie

[sst0rmm]

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ in the mornings ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

ft: rin.

notes: just pure sunshine fluff ✧˖°.

part/series: 1.0 2.0 3.0

wc: 1328

he's doesn't wake you up, and prefers to let you sleep the night away to your heart's content (sleeping makes you happy), and he notices and cares about that.

it's the little things....

rin wakes up early before you. he's always been an early bird, up as soon as the sun rises, and a sleepy saturday is no exception. so you're left to be woken up by the birds chirping and the sun shining and the smell of your favorite food wafting through the open doorway. and you'll get up, slowly walk your way downstairs.

the moment's surprisingly domestic, rin's shirtless and clad in an apron (even though it's a little drafty downstairs), you're in his shirt, and for a second there's nothing but the sound of sizzling bacon reverberating on the walls and making you feel completely at home.

"did you sleep well?" you smile, because you suddenly feel refreshly rejuvenated.

"yeah, i really, really did."

rin is SUCH a sweetheart dasifjsdiofjjjsfdi LMAOO like...

you cannot prove me wrong once he gets to know you he's literally warm and allasdfjdfoi

and his cooking's mad scrumptious i am telling u

breakfast, as usual is warm and lifts you up. down to your veins, the utter core and heart of your being, because you can tell that he made it with love, and that's most important. and once you're done, you make a move to go do the dishes, but he won't let you. (the man's serious, what can i say?)

"i can do it-"

"don't worry," rin pulls you into a swift hug and you're suddenly surrounded by a cocoon of strong, comforting arms, "i got it."

"but you already cooked? we should split-"

rin looks at you fondly, amusement glimmering in teal eyes. it's a look that can stop time, shatter you, and pick you up anew. it's the look of the sunsets you saw together last september, and it's that look of pure adoration and love.

"you should rest," he whispers as he presses a soft kiss to your cheek that leaves your stomach whirling and your nerves dancing alight. "you're worth it."

oh if you only knew HOW BAD i need a rin in my life

we all need a rin tbh because he's sooo sweet and so caring when he's comfy around you

+ a little jelly bcs !!!!

this next scene is utter beauty... you'll see...

waking up is hard when you're utterly entangled in the strong arms of the one you love.

the sun hums softly through the windows, blanketing everything in golden radiance. a clear, blue expanse of sky gazes down at you from above. the clock blinks at you in soft red letters the time (11 P.M.), but neither of you seem to make a move to get up.

it’s the power of a sleepy saturday.

a soft murmur (the doorbell) cuts through your haze of thoughts. “i’ll get it-” rin starts but you push the covers back onto him, pressing him back down onto the soft mattress.

“don’t worry, i got it,” you smile, and he wraps you in a warm hug.

“if you’re gone too long, i’ll miss you!” he calls over your shoulder. you smile back at him. it’s so easy to fall back into that comforting, perfect rhythm, where it’s just the two of you. indelible touches and soft warmth, broken down to sand, it’s just the two of you. against the world, fighting together, the two of you.

your heart blossoms with a warmth that swells from your head down to the very core of your being, and sits happily there, a pleasant, steady heat that makes the silence feel so full.

at your door’s a cute, smiling pizza man.

“delivery for y/n?” he smiles down at you, while holding that cardboard box.

“thanks so much!” you turn to grab your wallet from the counter, and come back right after. the air’s crackling with some unspoken tension, and you feel and hear movement behind you, but you disregard it.

inhaling the aroma of cheesy goodness, you feel oddly refreshed.

the man looks you up and down, and you suddenly realize you’re in a ratty set of pajamas and cross your arms over yourself a little self-consciously.

“the weather’s gorgeous today, isn’t it?” the man smiles and you find it in yourself to smile back. he’s just being nice, you chide yourself.

“yeah-” you start, “it really, really is.”

as you move to swipe your credit card across the gleaming screen of the touchless payment scanner, your feet get caught on the rug and you fall down, down, down…

right into the pizza guy’s arms. as your cheeks color and flame, and you murmur a hasty apology and scramble away, the man smirks.

“fell for me already, didn’t you?”

you wince. he’s cute, with warm eyes and dimples, but he’s no rin itoshi. “actually,” you start, “i’m flattered, but i’m not interested.”

the guy looks at you in surprise. “what, do you have a boyfriend or someth-”

immediately, rin’s presence materializes by you as if summoned. it’s a little uncanny, you think to yourself. and you have to admit, seeing rin stare down his opposition is a sight to see.

it doesn’t help the other guy’s case that rin’s fit as anything, either. just the glare he gives his opponents is enough to make them recoil. he crosses his arms over his broad chest and gives the delivery guy a penetrating stare. (you feel a little bad for this poor pizza man). but also, it fills you with molten heat and just love that rin would even care about these little things.

“yeah,” rin drawls underneath the summer sun, “she does have a boyfriend.” he wraps his bicep around your waist and tugs you close.

“so if i were you,” rin leans in towards the guy and whispers, “i’d probably leave now.”

somehow, the pressured worker manages to keep his wits intact. “you haven’t paid-”

“i’ll handle it, y/n,” rin whispers in your ear and waves you off. as you sit down on your sofa and calm your racing heart, you’re hit with such a wave of emotion that your heart weeps. because you’re rin itoshi’s, and he doesn’t care if the whole world knows it.

rin’s by your side minutes later and he sees your tears. “why’re you crying? is it me- don’t cry because of me-” he hugs you close, and wipes away your tears with gentle fingers.

“i’m not sad, rin,” you smile up at him, “happy tears. happy because you love me, and you don’t care if the whole world knows it-”

“even if you are a jealous-”

he pulls you in close and whispers fiercely. “damn right i’m jealous, because i got the best person in the world right beside me. and i’ll never let you go, and i’ll always love you. let the world say what they want to say, because you’re mine.”

“i love you too, rin-”

and then he pulls you into a searing kiss, embedding himself into your very soul and your entire mind is consumed with just rin itoshi. featherlight touches leave trails of heat down your face, and you breathe a soft sigh.

because rin in the mornings (and any other time) is truly just a sight to behold.

“say it,” rin murmurs and pulls away. you’re both breathing a little heavy and he looks at you with such love and emotion in his eyes that you know what he needs.

“i’m yours.”

the next kiss sends off fireworks in your heart and ignites your world in a blaze of life because you’re rin’s, he’s yours, and the two of you together are unstoppable.

there will be ups and downs. highs of unimaginable greatness and lows and worlds of hurt. but you’ll get through it.

together.

OH MY GOD MWA MWA MWA AHHHHHH

rin is truly the best lover when he's with you, i refuse to believe othwerise.... well i know he''ll prob be AWKWARD and cold at first.. (i'll totally do an arranged marriage sitch on my ao3 oh i love the idea already)

stay tuned for part two (guess which character in comments!!! or request which one im open) i'll link it under the series column when it's rdy ;)

thank u sm for reading, and thank you to @enchanthings for these lovely page dividers. grateful foreva 🫶

(rin pics bcs i love him sm, look at that penetrating stare and bro has hella eyelashes..)

ASJFDSOIF ok THANKS FOR REEADING AGAIN!!

part two is up and linked!!! happy reading :)

[mozart-in-a-gokart]

My Thoughts On How TUA Season 4 Should Have Ended

Read it like a script outline maybe? Idk I never took screenwriting?

Way more detail below the cut:

Im so sorry if this whole thing comes across as very fan fictiony towards the end. I did my best.

::Here are some refreshers for some of the concepts I touch on at the beginning and where my logic comes from::

Note: I may have spelled Luther as Luthor throughout this and I realized this only after I was just about to post this so… bear with me.. thank you.

So we learned these things previously:

Season 1

Viktor was the trigger for the big world ending apocalypse

Season 2

Viktor was the trigger for the 3rd world war that ended the whole world

Season 3

Viktor has the ability to transfer marigold .We learned that from the whole storyline with Harlan in season 3.

Viktor had the ability to stop Allison from resetting the universe but chose-not to at the very end of the season.

Edited Addition: The Kugalblitz itself was the result of a grandfather paradox involving the umbrellas in the sparrow timeline. (I.E. You go back in time, you kill your grandfather, therefore you have no way of existing later.). Their parents were dead so the universe couldn’t handle these extra variables that shouldn’t and theoretically couldn’t have existed, so it collapsed in on itself.

Season 4

When the universe is reset all of the October 1st kids seem to exist because Lila also exists in the reset universe (we don’t see the sparrows unfortunately so this is a toss up but for the purposes of this I assume they exist we just never saw them.)

Edited to clarify a point: Lila’s parents are still alive in this timeline, meaning she was born to two parents with no marigold. This further backs up the idea that the same must be true for the rest of the Hargreeves siblings because if it wasn’t, one of two things would have had to have occurred. One: The marigold would have had to have been released. However, If it had the umbrellas would all have been born with their abilities, which they did not have at the end of season 3 in the new universe. Two: Another Kugelblitz would have occurred because they wouldn’t have parents and therefore would have had no explanation for existing in the new universe, causing yet another cascade failure.

Abigail has this insane amount of guilt that comes from creating both the Marigold and Durango.

The show seems to establish that in Abigail and his marriage, Reginald is the one who considers the children expendable and always has. Abigail seemed to care about them quite a bit (at least until the last episode)

Abigail manages at the last second to convince Reginald to die with her and let the cleanse happen because it’s THEIR FAULT all this is happening, not the umbrellas

When Lila and Allison’s family get on the train they do in fact transfer over and are inserted into the “correct” and “one true” timeline. They are essentially rewritten by the universe to allow them to exist there.

With all these things in mind this is what I think should have happened

Abigail should still have managed to convince Reginald that this was all their fault but it should have happened earlier in the episode.

Abigail should have put an emphasis on the fact that it isn’t the umbrellas fault at all and that they have a right to exist. That it’s the least they can do is try and help them figure a way out of this after everything they have been put through both in Abigail’s name, and by Reginald himself.

Reginald finally grows as a person, accepts this, and they both go with Viktor on the crusade to save Ben.

While on the journey Abigail learns about Viktors ability to transfer Marigold from one person to another and she LATCHES onto this.

Abigail and Reginald have a discussion about a plan that involves transferring the Marigold to both of them of Viktor can’t manage to convince Ben.

(Maybe there’s a scene similar to season 2 where Viktor talks with sparrow Ben in his mind. Sparrow Ben ends up making the point that they have to let him go. HES NOT THEIR BEN. He NEVER has been. They have to let him go. Let him do this selfish thing. He misses HIS family. His SPARROWS. Let him die.)

This is a good end IMO for sparrow Ben because he isn’t out Ben. We’ve all been talking about Ben being Ben for so long we forget this Ben is literally A DIFFERENT PERSON. He sees the umbrellas as his family’s murderers. It’s tragic but, I can’t see this Ben ever truly growing to love the umbrellas the way he seemed to with the sparrows

With that Obviously the plan to stop the cleanse by convincing Ben falls apart. Plan A never works.

They all would congregate back at the dilapidated Hargreeves mansion.

They all still talk about options and Five still says that the only way to end this once and for all is by destroying all of the marigold (Instead of being all defeated about it I think he should be angry and wired when he’s talking about it. I hate this drowned kitten looking guy. Where’s my embodiment of the it’s always sunny Pepe Silva Meme)

While they all argue about trying to use the subway to save themselves and Five doesn’t think it will work Reginald steps forward and tells them all to be silent.

They all force of habit stop and stare at him.

He says that he and his wife may have a way to save them all.

Klaus, Luther, Diego, and Five are all against letting him talk

Lila, Allison and Viktor are willing to let him talk what harm could he do now at the end.

He asks Five about the subway and if he’s right that you leave it at the exact moment in time you entered. Five agrees as far as he knows that’s correct.

Reginald and Abigail ask Five to blink all of them there, right now so they have a bit more time to explain.

Five says no not until they tell everyone what’s going on. He’s had enough running around and beating around the bush. Reginald explains things now.

Reginald does.

He explains that their bodies in this particular universe were not made originally of marigold. They were just born here. So theoretically, if they no longer had Marigold in their system. The Umbrellas themselves won’t need to be erased. They could attempt to escape with their family.

Luther points out that they don’t know how to extract the marigold.

Viktor reminds them that he can transfer it but he doesn’t know how good he is at it. Plus he needs to transfer it somewhere. He can’t just release it.

Reg : “That is correct. You would need to transfer the marigold to another vessel. It won’t work if it’s not in something living.”

Diego: “What’re you saying?”

Five: “He’s saying one of us has to stay behind Diego.”

Allison: “So what? You’re asking one of us to volunteer? To choose to be erased?”

Everyone starts up angrily shouting at Reginald who is interrupted by Abigail.

Abigail: “None of you would stay behind.”

Five: “Elaborate?”

Abigail: “Five you blink everyone to the subway. While we’re there Viktor transfers all of the marigold from all of you to Reginald and myself. All of you board the train. We will stay behind.”

Everyone is silent and staring

Klaus: “you’re cool with this Dad?”

Reginald: “I am not your father young man. I am Not your Reginald Hargreeves. I am however, a Reginald who knows how to respect hard work, which you all seem to have been doing for a great many years trying to stop exactly this thing from occurring. I understand that my wife and I helped set this in motion and I am nothing if not accountable.”

Luther: “wow… “

Abigail: “Let us do this?”

Lila is immediate in her agreement

Five doesn’t like the idea of this but it’s all they’ve got.

They all start teleporting as the Bennifer Cleanse beast starts shattering the windows to the house

We watch time seem to slowdown because the creature understands that the marigold isn’t “in this dimension anymore” it doesn’t know where to look.

We watch a subway staircase form in the center of the room and see tendrils of the Flesh Creature winding around it but never down in it because it doesn’t have a way into the subway. (You have to blink there)

We have a moment where the Umbrellas link hands in a circle and glow (like we do every season. It’s tradition)

We go around the circle through each of the umbrellas faces and watch the marigold pulled from them slowly. And transferred into Reginald and Abigail who are standing in the center we see it leave them and they all collapse

Viktor still has a little bit left in him and says he doesn’t have the strength to transfer it

Everyone looks defeated at that

Diego and Lila while they’re looking at one another

Allison and Klaus are hugging one another

Luther and Five collapse on the bench

Viktor says it’s alright. That he’s gonna stay. He’s gonna choose to stay and be part of the solution this time. He owes it to them for ending the world three separate times (He’s gonna choose to save everything and not cause it)

They all hug him at the door to the train and say “goodbye”

Five is keeping the train door open by standing in front of them

Klaus hugs Viktor and thanks them for being the only normal one of the bunch and keeping them down to earth

Klaus: and hey! Don’t sell yourself short! That third time wasn’t really YOUR fault. Allison was the one who—

Allison shoves Klaus out of the way and into the train.

Allison and Viktor hug the longest out of everyone.

Allison: “I’m gonna miss you so much.”

Luthor picks Viktor up and spins them around : “I’m sorry for not being a better brother. You deserved more.”

Viktor: “ make it up to me by finding Sloane in the next world and naming your first born Viktor.”

Luther is laughing and nodding boarding the train

Diego shakes Viktor’s hand and apologizes for blaming them for so much in previous years. “I was really closed off and I should have been better. I love you brother.”

Viktor: I love you too Diego”

Diego’s holding back tears as he boards.

Five is the last to say good bye

The two are just staring at one another quietly

Five: “You know… I never thanked you…”

Viktor: “For what?”

Five: Not giving up on me the first time

Viktor is confused

Five: “When I disappeared years and years ago. When I came back pogo told me about the Sandwiches and the lights and everything. I know it’s too late, but I’d be remiss if I never said it. So, thank you. For not giving up on me.”

Viktor smiles at him.

Viktor: “I guess I should say the same.”

Five cocks his head

Viktor: “You never gave up on us. Every single time the world was ending. You never gave up on saving us. You drove yourself insane trying to save us all and we never thanked you.”

Five scoffs

Five: “Guess we’re both thankless assholes…”

Viktor: “Nah”

Viktor shakes their head and pulls five in for a hug

Viktor: “Thank you for everything Max.”

Five slowly hugs them back

Five: “Don’t call me that”

Viktor pulls back

Viktor: I’m sacrificing myself for your asses. I can call you whatever I want.”

Five steps back

Five: “Goodbye Viktor”

They give all wave at Viktor as the doors start to close

Suddenly an umbrella Lodges itself in the doorframe and everyone including the audience is shocked

Abigail has stopped the doors from closing

Viktor whips around to see Reginald right behind him

Reginald: “Must I do everything around here.”

Reginald, now with marigold and Lila’s abilities of Mirroring, mirrors Viktors ability and removes the last of the marigold from him before pushing Viktor through the doors and onto the train.

Abigail lets go and the train doors close leaving all of the Umbrellas and extended family shaken

Abigail waves at them as the train starts pulling away and we see Reginald tip his cap to them

Reginald: Farewell Children of the Umbrella Academy.

Abigail: You were Extraordinary.

The train pulls away and we see Reginald and Abigail take each other by the arm and walk towards the exit of the subway

The camera is frozen in place and we watch them ascend the stairs. We hear the scream of the The Cleanse Creature echo the the subway stars start shaking

Tiles crack and light starts flashing from the stairway the ceiling begins to cave in and we transition to the umbrellas on the train

Viktors been helped up and they’re all dazed and confused just waiting for “it” to “happen” whatever “it” is

We get a similar scene to the original scene where they’re letting the cleanse consume them

During this scene is when Five explains that they will all likely forget one another. Because their parents are in all different parts of the country. They will have never met. It’s a hard reset.

This makes all of them sad (OBVIOUSLY) so we get the same cleanse conversation as more of a we don’t know if we will ever see each other again and if we don’t I just wanna say this to you all kind of conversation

We still end it with Klaus saying “You know, I just wanna say I love you guys… but you are all assholes.”

Everyone laughs and as they’re laughing music swells

We get a cut of the subway flashing colors because the reset is happening

We get flashes of color washing over each of them with the various scenes of them from previous seasons and those timelines disappearing

We flash through them in order of number

Luthor

Diego

Allison

Klaus

Five

Lila (as six instead of Ben roll with me I promise I have a reason)

And Viktor

The final flash is a long shot of all of them smiling in the train car and the camera zooms down it and into the same wormhole at the end that leads to the “real” timeline

We cut to black

There’s beats of silence (yes multiple)

The audience is thinking “Are we ending it here? Is it gonna be ambiguous? Are we about to see credits?

No.

Slowly a stereo fades into view we’re staring at it

Someone walks in front of it wearing a very familiar jean coat

We hear the stereo button click and The song “I Think We’re Alone Now” starts playing

We watch Viktor pull a woman who looks very much like sissy into their arms and they start to dance laughing loudly. There’s a pure white violin in the corner that looks like it’s been used so often and so long but so lovingly. We zoom out the window out the window and see this is on a farm somewhere we focus on the windmill wheel turning

It transitions to the wheel of a beat up old car arriving at the park. We watch Lila and Diego’s kids stumble out of the car holding skate boards and bubble wands. They’re older than they were. Lila shakes her fist at them from the passenger window. She’s shouting at them. You can hear her shouting be careful! And then shouting more in Punjabi

We don’t see who’s in the drivers seat but we zoom in on Lila’s fist and it transitions to another fist. This one gripping a paper and shaking it as it moves across a classroom towards the front.

We follow the page as it’s placed on a desk then pan up to a figure in a suit writing complex equations clearly having something to do with physics or rocket ships in chalk across a board

On the desk is a nameplate that comes into view only when the figure turns around to address the room and we see very clearly it’s an adult Five. The nameplate reads Maximillian Murphy PHD.

He’s addressing the class and telling them to get their assignments in by Monday if they want input before the final assessment. Mrs. Murphy will take them from you if you have them now. He gestures to the woman who set the paper down on his desk in the transition who comes around the desk and sits on it. She’s wearing a polka dot blouse. He’s finally found a real Delores.

The two smile at one another and we pan up to the ceiling and zoom in on a vent grating which transitions to the front grill of a bus

We see muddy shoes scramble up the steps and cut to the inside of the bus. We see the figure only from the back as they scramble down the middle of the bus clutching a rucksack wearing very old fashioned Amish clothes. We only see them from the front when finally fall into a seat next to a guy reading a book wearing dog tags who looks like he’s just getting back from deployment somewhere

We watch Klaus turn and greet Dave in the modern day and hear them have the same conversation we heard on the bus in Vietnam on this bus in the middle of nowhere USA

We transition from Klaus laughing here to a time a bit in the future. Klaus laughing wearing clothes more like him and pulling Dave down a street past a shop window full of movie memorabilia we hear him saying something about wanting a good view of the take off. Trust him just come this way’

We zoom in on a script that transitions to one that lands on a coffee table. We watch Ray pick it up and Allison settle herself on a chair near by. We watch and hear them talk about this new pilot for this new show And how “it’s a good one I can feel it” “okay. Let’s do this then.” In the background we can see acting awards on a shelf. Alison isn’t just a commercial actress. She has been in things and is good at it. Claire comes barreling down the stairs and jumps between them on the couch. “Wheres the remote! It’s starting!”

We see Allison and Ray lean in forgetting the scripts

We pan across the room and it all melts away into a car radio

We see a hand turn it up and we hear it talking about the first launch nasa’s funded on a while. Space stuff.

We follow the figure who turned up the radio as they lean out of the car and gesture wildly as Lila and the kids to come over here quickly!

You see all of them start sprinting to the car to listen.

We watch through the front windshield of the van Lila climb in and kiss Diego. The kids all pile in and stare at the radio in Awe.

We get a shot of Diego turning up the radio dile which transitions to a gloved hand adjusting diles on what is clearly the console of a rocket ship. We pan up and it’s LUTHOR. Space boy ready for take off

We hear the the count down of a take off start over the last portion of “I think we’re alone now” by Tiffany

The screen gets smaller until Luthor is in a neat box in the middle of the screen as we count down characters are added to the screen in their own boxes all tuning in to watch this launch

Ten - Sloan with a little girl on her lap pointing at the tv from the couch in a house that is so clearly hers and Luthors. She’s mouthing wave bye to daddy! It’s your daddy! Bye space boy!

Nine - Dot, Herb, the handler, and someone with a gold fish print Hawaiian shirt (AJ for sure), dressed to the nines are sitting in a backyard with a radio on listening and laughing

Eight - hazel and Agnes turn up the volume of a Tv at a doughnut shop they both clearly own. Hazel is behind the counter and Agnes’s waiting tables. The few tables seated have people we recognize there. Cha cha. Eudora and Detective Beaman.

Seven - Viktor and Sissy watching the tv over their living room couch

Six - Grace stopping with a baby carriage at a store front filled with tvs. Her baby on her hip pointing at the tv mouthing the the word rocket to the baby who giggles

Five - Five, His Wife and a bunch of other professors or huddled around an old tv in a lab in a physics building. one of the scientists is holding an open notebook with sketches of the comic characters in it. It’s Gabriel Bá. You can see him mouthing “come on come on!”

Four - Klaus and Dave sitting on a blanket on a hill near the nasa bad along with a ton of other people on blankets pointing and holding binoculars. Gerard way and his wife are among them.

Three - Allison, Ray, and Claire all leaning in to watch eagerly

Two - Diego Lila and all their kids leaning in to hear

One - every box but the ones with the Umbrellas go black.

It’s a close up of all of their eyes. They all read as excited. Looking up towards the future. “the beating of our hearts is the only sound”

All those squares go black on some tambourine beats

Houston we have liftoff.

Credits roll.

END CREDITS SCENE.

A close up of Ben’s eyes. We zoom out. We’re back on that train in Korea. We see him frown a second as he realizes something. He puts the book down a second. He looks out the window. Looks at his phone. There are text messages that read “dude where are you? We’re watching the launch without you!. How’d you miss this?!”

You see him realize.

In Korean “Motherfu—“

We cut to black again and cut him off.

The End

Is it cheesy? Maybe? But you know I think we deserve a little cheesy.

[ganjas-shit]

Oh, You’re Breaking My Heart

Summary: You get to the bottom of Billy’s feelings but will it be too late?

Pairings: Billy x reader, slight Steve x reader (nothing too crazy)

Warnings: 18+ minors dni, sexual intercourse, cursing, abuse, blood, harsh language, Neil Hargrove, angst, mention of drugs, mental illness, panic attack.

Authors note: So, turns out I will be turning this into a series but STILL don’t know how long yet! I hope you guys enjoy I’ve been working on this all day. Message me or comment if you’d like to be apart of the tag list! Thank you for your support <3

Chapter Two: You’re gonna be okay.

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The morning air was crisp and refreshing, like sipping cool water. It felt invigorating against your skin, awakening your senses to the day ahead.

You took one more deep breath, enjoying the cool air in your lungs and closed the door behind you, locking it with your house key, and made your way towards the front of your house waiting for Steve’s arrival.

You close your eyes before slapping a hand over your forehead. “Shit,” you mutter under your breath, realizing you forgot to call him this morning. With his habit of sleeping in, you’d likely be late for the billionth time only this time you didn’t find it in you to care, the excitement from last nights events still lingered in your belly.

Billy showed a different side of himself, setting aside his usual arrogance and charm. This unexpected change only fueled your excitement, leaving you eager to learn more about him.

The sound of Billy and Max bickering snapped you out of your thoughts. Though you couldn’t discern their exact exchange, it was evident Billy had the upper hand as Max slammed the passenger door of his car. “Watch it, shitbird, or you’ll be walking to school!” Billy’s voice echoed with attitude and irritation. Neil’s sudden appearance brought a stern reminder for Billy to mind his words when speaking to his sister

As he was about to get into his car, your eyes met his ocean-blue ones, but they held anger towards you, making you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. You immediately shook it off, offering him a wave and your bright, sweet smile. He maintained eye contact for a moment but disregarded your greeting, hopping into the driver’s seat of his blue Camaro.

You stood there, dumbfounded, watching him speed off, cringing at the loud sound of his departure. Did you do something? You thought to yourself.

You found the interaction between him and his father last night rather odd. His father’s presence was intimidating and uncomfortable, yet Billy left with a small smile directed towards you. It seemed like he was grateful for your conversation, so you couldn’t understand what could’ve happened.

Steve arrived momentarily, surprisingly on time, his burgundy bmw stopping right in front of you house. You climbed into the passenger side, a mixture of frustration and disappointment bubbling within you. With a heavy hand and a distracted mind, you slammed the passenger door of Steve’s car.

“Hey, easy!” He yelled, his tone irritated at your lack of consideration for his precious baby, bringing you back to the present moment. “Sorry,” you mumbled, shifting your belongings to the front of your legs and fastening your seatbelt.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve huffed. “Who pissed in your cereal this morning?” He glanced towards the driver’s window, checking for any incoming cars or pedestrians.

“Billy Hargrove,” you muttered grumpily, turning your gaze out the window as the trees and houses began to blur with the increasing speed of Steve’s car.

Steve looked over at you, his grip tightening on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white in the process. “Yeah, well, at least you’re not being benched today because of him,” Steve said, his tone tinged with anger at the fact that Billy clearly upset you and at the realization that he’s not starting or playing the opening game today.

You remained quiet still distracted by your thoughts.

“What happened?” Steve asked, glancing over towards you. You straightened up and began explaining what had occurred the night before.

You started to explain the night in vivid detail to Steve, although he wished you wouldn’t have because he already didn’t like the idea of you and Hargrove together, and hearing the details made him inwardly vomit.

The car came to a halt when you had arrived at school. Steve parked and took the key out of the ignition, taking a deep breath before speaking.

"Billy’s always kind of had a weird temper, y/n," Steve spoke carefully. He wasn’t being judgmental; he's just been a firsthand witness to it. "Him and I have roughed each other up a couple of times," he admitted.

Your eyes widened in disbelief. “You guys fought?! MORE THAN ONCE? ” You felt a surge of anger; Steve had lied to you. “So that one day after school, when you had a bruised eye, it wasn’t from bumping into a locker, it was from Billy?!” You mimicked Steve’s stupid voice, scolding him.

Steve rolled his eyes at your reaction, his head hitting the back of his headrest. It was the very reason he didn’t want to tell you, because he knew you’d freak out like this. “Can you let me finish?” he asked, a hint of exasperation in his voice.

You waved your hands at him, signaling for him to continue.

“It was after practice one day, Neil, his dad had come to watch our scrimmage game,” Steve spoke.

Steve never forgot that day. Neil Hargrove looked like the biggest dick of a father anyone could have, and the way he spoke to Billy that day confirmed it.

"Billy, stop being a fucking pussy and get on defense!" Neil screamed, as if he were the assistant coach or something. Steve knew Billy could play defense; hell, he was the one who taught him to plant his feet properly.

Steve had the ball, with Billy defending closely. As Steve dribbled, scanning for an opening, he noticed Billy's distant and uneasy expression; it wasn’t filled with arrogance and a cocky smile like it usually was. "Hey man, you alright?" Steve asked, still dribbling. Billy's response was a glare of rage, yet he seized the opportunity. With a swift move, he snatched the ball from Steve's hand, pushing past him, sending Steve on his ass. Smoothly dribbling past him, Billy scored.

When Billy scored, he yelled and smiled as he usually did, then looked to the sidelines where his father stood, seeking some sort of approval or applause from him. However, he received nothing. Neil walked out, acknowledging nothing and Billy’s smile faltered immediately.

Coach Williams called an end to practice, and everyone left for the locker rooms to shower. Steve stayed for a couple more minutes to stretch his legs. As he walked out, he heard some yelling. Curious, he peeked over the wall to his right and saw Neil and Billy. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, but he did see Neil push Billy into the wall. Although he wasn’t close enough to hear the exchange, Billy looked frightened, and Neil appeared angry at God knows what. Steve witnessed Neil slap Billy once in the face, causing even him to flinch. With that, Neil left, leaving Billy there. Billy’s head hung low as he looked at his shoes and wiped his eyes.

Steve didn’t know what to do but he did what felt right. Again he asked like a broken record. “You alright?”

Billy flinched at the sound of Steve’s voice. “What did you see?” Billy spat with rage. Steve was confused and even hurt by his response. He was just asking if he was okay? Jesus Christ, was this kid always angry and defensive? Steve thought.

Steve decided Billy was a lost cause. He rolled his eyes, turned his back on him, and decided to just leave.

"Are you deaf?" Billy spat, his voice filled with anger, as he followed behind Steve and forcefully pushed his back, causing Steve to stumble and fall once again.

Steve's empathy ran out, replaced by anger. He got up and pushed Billy back. "Looks like you got some fire in you after all, Harrington!" he laughed manically. Steve noticed Billy's bloody nose, but it wasn't from him; it was from Neil.

Billy then charged at Steve, landing a punch on the right side of his face, and Steve retaliated almost instantly. They grappled and exchanged blows for a couple of minutes until Tommy H. and another teammate intervened to break up the fight.

You let out a deep sigh as Steve finished speaking.

Your heart broke for Billy; his father was a despicable, abusive piece of shit. You felt like an idiot for not seeing it earlier, but it still didn’t justify him taking it out on you. Did his father say something about you? You glanced sympathetically at Steve, who had tried to help and ended up with a blow to his right eye. Billy had no right, and while you don't excuse his behavior, you can't help but empathize with him.

"Just be careful with him, y/n," Steve said, his tone filled with concern. "He’s erratic and unpredictable," he added, his worry still evident.

Billy wasn’t a monster; you knew that. You also knew you could handle yourself; you didn’t need protection. After all, you had experience in this department; you dealt with a verbally abusive mother once upon a time.

You smiled at Steve. “I can handle myself. If I can handle the demogorgon, demo bats, and Vecna, I can handle Billy Hargrove,” you said, grabbing his hand that was resting on the center console and squeezing it gently. “Now let’s get to first period before clickety-clackety marks us late.” You finished letting go and opening the passenger door.

Steve did the same. “You know I hate when you and Robin call her that,” he said, now closing and locking his car. “It sounds nerdy,” he explained, speeding up to walk next to you.

Steve grabbed his hand attempting to calm the tingle he felt it in after your touch.

"Too bad," you said, playfully sticking out your tongue as you headed to class, earning you a classic Harrington eye roll. “Wait, how is that nerdy?” You chimed in again, sparking a lively banter between the two of you that continued until you reached class.

.

You got through your classes today only to be bombarded with more work.

The day you’d been dreading all week: the opening game of the season for Hawkins High.

You only ever enjoyed it when Steve played, but with him not playing tonight, the day seemed even worse. However, I suppose you could try to look on the bright side because it was Billy’s debut.

You walked around the gym, proud of yours and Billy’s work; the banners looked great. You double-checked that everyone was in their rightful place. Cheerleaders? Check. Band? Check. Student council? Check. Eddie Munson? Wait, Eddie Munson? At the Hawkins High opening game? No, it couldn’t be.

Eddie strode your way, wearing his infamous hellfire tee, paired with black ripped jeans and a silver chain that hung at the loops of them.

"What the hell are you doing here?" You questioned, smiling, genuinely surprised to see Eddie Munson at the opening game.

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m thinking about convincing coach Williams to let me join the basketball team,” Eddie said, mimicking shooting a basketball poorly. “Gotta work on my basketball moves,” he added, moving on to mimic dribbling, which was downright horrid.

“Clearly,” you said, laughing at his terrible performance. “Your form is so off, and you look like you have no rhythm,” you added with a chuckle.

“Oh, I have rhythm. But it’s all in the fingers, baby… And trust me, the ladies love it… both ways,” he said with a smirk, punctuating his words with a wink.

You roll your eyes. “Smooth, Casanova.”

“Why are you really here? Is it Chrissy?” you say, raising your eyebrows up and down in a suggestive manner. “Or oh no, wait a minute, are you swooning over Billy Hargrove too?” you tease.

He scoffed slightly, his cheeks flushing at the mention of Chrissy’s name.

“No, but if you must know, O’Donnell said if I checked in with her after the game tonight, she’ll give me extra credit,” he explained, wiggling his eyebrows. You couldn’t help but laugh at how much of a dork he was.

But as you conversed, you couldn't help but notice the glares directed your way, especially from Carol and her friends, who were whispering about the two of you. Admitting it was difficult, but you found yourself affected by the things people said. It stung deeply; the cruelty of others weighed heavily on you, especially considering your own past involvement in similar behavior, which made you feel like you deserved the treatment you were receiving.

You shook off the thoughts that invaded your mind and refocused your attention back to Eddie.

“Wanna sit together? I have good seats in the student council section,” you said cheesing, reaching out to poke his stomach.

"Wow, Eddie Munson getting invited to the VIP section at his first Hawkins high basketball game? Count me in," he said, falling into step behind you as you headed towards the student section.

“You are such a dork.”

You and Eddie made your way to your seats, exchanging greetings with Robin as you passed by. Shortly after, the band started playing, and the basketball team began to roll in.

The team then huddled up and Coach Williams sent in the starting lineup, you felt the anticipation building. The game was about to begin.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from Billy. Ever since Steve gave you a little insight into who he was, he had been on your mind all day. Despite your best efforts, he didn’t turn his head once to look at you in class today, You had hoped to catch him after class, but that ditz Tina beat you to it. Seeing him all over her made you physically sick. It was nothing new, but today it stung a little more.

.

Billy’s facade of arrogance and confidence was beginning to crack.

He wasn’t prepared for this game, his mind consumed by the events of the previous night. His father had never offered him approval, kindness, or any form of support. But he did for you, which only fueled his bitterness toward you. Billy had dedicated himself to sports, hoping to earn his father’s affection and love. And the only commendation his father ever uttered was about you, summed up in just two words.

“Nice girl.”

Billy came to the conclusion that that’s why his father made those comments about you, realizing that Neil was drawn to submissive, weak, and timid women. It gave him a sense of control, a power trip that he relished, and it was the only valid reason.

But, he knew you weren't weak; you stood up for yourself, you were resilient, but it unsettled him. Since the age of 13, Billy had been consumed by anger after his mother left. She abandoned him, leaving him with a void. In you, he found a sense of safety similar to what he felt with his mother. He was unexplainably drawn towards you. Yet, the thought of attaching himself to you terrified him, fearing you might leave just like his mother did.

The thought of his father wanting you for him unsettled him deeply and fueled his desire to rebel. His mind was a war zone; he was caught between conflicting feelings that were tearing him apart.

He couldn’t help but think that Neil wanted him to follow in his footsteps.

Tommy nudged his shoulder snapping him back to reality, “Hey? You ready to kick some ass Hargrove,” Tommy asked excitedly.

Billy nodded, mustering up everything within him to get his mind straight, but then he saw you in the crowd next to Eddie Munson.

His heart ached a little, he felt guilty about this morning, and he started to feel jealousy course through his veins as he watched you laugh with the mop-headed boy. He kept his eyes on you for so long that he completely missed the sound of the whistle going off.

Shit.

The opposing team took had the ball in play and Billy’s mistake was seen by the entire school resulting in the opposing team making their first point.

The crowd was visibly upset with their screams and yelling and this made Billy’s adrenaline increase and his heart rate was speeding up drastically. His father wasn’t present, dinner with his coworkers was much important than his sons first game but why was he hearing him in the crowd?

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING BILLY? WAKE THE FUCK UP.”

“YOU ARE WEAK JUST LIKE YOUR MOTHER, SHE LEFT ME WITH A GOOD FOR NOTHING SON.”

“Pussy. Get up pussy.”

“Nice girl.”

His father's words echoed in his mind, panic rising. In the midst of the play, he signaled the refs with his right hand while clutching his tightening chest with his left, the crowd's screams growing louder.

“TIMEOUT. TIMEOUT.” Coach Williams screamed and the game came to a halt. The crowds screams turned into whispers and murmurs.

“Billy what’s gotten into you boy?” Coach Williams asked, “Can you do this or do I need to pull you out?”

“I need a minute.” Billy said gripping the chest of his uniform, making his way towards the nearest exit.

“HARRINGTON GET YOUR ASS UP YOU’RE IN,”

.

Billy held his gaze on yours, and yours remained locked with his. You both were so lost in each other’s eyes that the sound of the ref’s whistle made you jump. You cringed as Billy messed up, not because you cared about basketball, but because you knew how harsh the crowd could be.

Eddie looked from Billy to you, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.

“Okay, what was that? ” Eddie spoke up, curious about the exchange of longing between you and the jock.

You sighed deeply.

“Eddie, I have a question,” you stated, your voice catching slightly. "Can I ask you about your dad?" you asked carefully, not wanting to upset Eddie or stir up painful memories.

“My dad?” Eddie questioned clearing his throat, confused at the sudden subject change, “Um yeah go head shoot,” he said as he crossed one arm over another. You looked over at Billy which didn’t go unnoticed by Eddie.

“After you got away from your dad, what was your personality like? Was it hard to trust people, let them in?” You asked refocusing your gaze to him.

Eddie briefly mentioned his dad while we were in the midst of hot-wiring his neighbor's RV a couple of months ago. And when you guys were gearing up for the upside-down, you had downtime leading to a deep talk about your parents, getting to know how bad Eddie had it growing up with his father. He was a schizophrenic, dope fiend, off his meds, obviously. His mother died of alcohol poising when he was about 7 years old, and he knew his father to be an addict his entire life, always in and out of jail, erratic, delusional, always up to trouble. His father didn’t take Eddie’s mother's death well; his mental state started to deteriorate, the drugs clashing with his illness more and more, and he started blaming Eddie for his mother's death, beginning to put his hands on him. Cigarette burns, bruises, black eyes—you name it, he had it.

CPS got involved, and his father was thrown into a psychiatric home. Eddie was alone, abused, for eight years until his uncle Wayne took him in at 15.

“Oh yeah, definitely. It took me a while to trust anyone,” he said with a dark chuckle. “My uncle Wayne was a patient man. I was rebellious, and I started to follow in my old man’s footsteps. It scared the shit out of me because I was hurting my uncle Wayne, but it was all I knew.” Eddie said, “My uncle Wayne taught me what love was, what it meant to be a true father. If I didn’t have that or some type of good in my life, I would’ve been screwed,” he reflected eternally grateful his uncle saved him.

You pulled Eddie in for a hug, grateful that he had shared with you, and he returned the gesture. After letting go, you took a deep breath, feeling a sense of clarity as you connected the dots.

“Billy’s in the same boat,” you admitted, “but he’s not letting me in,”

Eddie let out a sigh, looking at you sympathetically.

“You’re still a kid, y/n, and you’re not responsible for him. It took my uncle Wayne a while to snap me out of it. It wasn’t easy,” he said, looking over at you with genuine concern.

“Eddie, I’m far from a kid. I practically raised myself since my mom left. You’re forgetting who you’re talking to,” you said, slightly irritated at his reaction. Eddie regretted his choice of words, but he still meant them. You weren’t responsible. “He needs people like us around him. He’s not a bad person; he just doesn’t know any better, just like you at one point.” You said, your words making Eddie feel sympathy for Billy Hargrove.

.

The ref’s whistle blew, signaling the game was about to begin once again, and to everyone’s surprise, Steve was in?

“Holy shit! Yeah, Steve!” You exclaimed, leaping up from your seat in excitement. “Look, Eddie, Steve’s in!” With a playful slap on his chest, you urged Eddie to stand and join in applauding Steve’s entrance onto the court.

Eddie rolled his eyes and threw Steve a thumbs up filled with fake enthusiasm. You slapped his chest again, but this time it wasn’t playful; it actually hurt.

As the game commenced, you glanced over to the bench, Billy nowhere to be found. Concern gnawed at you, but you opted to give him his space, especially since he made it clear he didn’t want to be near you. You also needed time; you wanted to talk to him, but you didn't know how to go about it.

"I don’t understand the love for this stupid game. Don’t people know about D&D?" Eddie scoffed, rolling his eyes, feeling ashamed he was even here.

“Oh, people know about it alright,” you said sarcastically, leaning in to whisper in his ear, “devil worshipper.”

Eddie dramatically gasped. "Take it back now or I’ll scream," he threatened, his voice filled with mock horror.

.

The night was an absolute blast. Steve's buzzer-beater brought the crowd to their feet, while Eddie's extra credit points from O’Donnell raised his grade to a D+. Principal Higgins even praised your role in the evening's success.

Steve confidently informed you about Billy’s failures, claiming he caught a bug that prevented him from continuing to play today. However, this seemed odd to you, considering he appeared perfectly fine this morning.

Billy was obviously lying.

You congratulated Steve as you bid him farewell, somewhat pleased to see King Steve back in action. Not wanting him to miss out on tonight's fun, you asked Eddie to give you a ride home.

The ride was nice and quiet which was much needed after todays events.

He dropped you off at home, and you made your way to your door. You jangled your keys until you found the right one and stuck it through the keyhole.

You found your way inside and you were welcomed to an empty house yet again, the same note still stuck to the fridge.

You went to your room and started to tidy it up until you heard the sound of Billy’s car pulling up, music blasting from it. He drove like such a maniac, he reminded you of Eddie.

You took a peek out your window and saw that he wasn’t alone.

Oh?

Tina was with him, and they were making out like fucking animals. This angered you beyond words. Did he have no consideration for his neighbors?

You opened your curtains aggressively, then your window which made a loud noise when it hit the top. You didn't know what came over you, but you couldn't care less.

"Hey! You two, mind shutting the fuck up?!" You yelled with all your might from your window, pulling Billy and ditzy Tina away from their heated make-out session.

"You mind fucking off?!" Billy yelled back. Your laughed bitterly which was then accompanied by a defiant middle finger thrown his way, to which he replied the same. With a frustrated sigh, you shut your window and cranked up the volume on your Walkman, drowning out the rowdiness from outside.

.

Your interruption infuriated him, rudely disrupting his moment with Tina and making things much more difficult between them.

“Billy maybe we should go somewhere else?” Tina purred, “Maybe lovers lake?” She implied, shoving her tits in his face.

"Nah, here will do. I can’t wait, doll," he said roughly, ripping the bra off her chest along with her panties. Billy’s dick was rock hard, it angered him so much, because all he could think about was you.

Tina lay sprawled out in his backseat, completely nude, and he couldn’t help but think about you, right next door, likely to hear every bit of it.

He lined his dick up at her entrance and hissed at the feeling. He closed his eyes and began to thrust mind falling back to you.

The way your nipples poked through your shirt that night, your perky tits filling his mind with so much imagination. Your flushed face and the way you clenched your thighs when he spoke to you, oh doll you don’t know what you’re missing. He was sure you hadn’t been touched properly with the way your body responded to him, hell, you probably hadn’t been touched at all.

Fuck, he thought, as he thrusted harder into the poor girl. If only she knew who he was imagining instead of her.

Her moans filled the car, echoing through the entire block. Billy was in for a treat tonight with his father.

"Oh god, Billy, right there, yes, yes!" She exclaimed with pleasure. Billy drowned out the sound of her voice and replaced it with the way you screamed at him a couple of minutes ago, you turned him on so much, especially when you were jealous.

Anger quickly consumed him again as he started to think about everything that took place yesterday, today’s game, and you. God, you were infuriating. You invaded his brain like some parasite, and he couldn’t decide whether it was a butterfly larvae destined to flutter around inside of him or a brain-eating parasitic worm who would gnaw at him for a eternity.

He fucked Tina harder, and harder feeling her clench beautifully around his cock. Sweat glistened on his forehead and his tan chest, the feeling quickly filling his body with pleasure, his movements starting to slow.

Unable to contain himself any longer, his groans grew louder.

“Ah, shit, fuck y/n,” he said with his eyes closed, tilting his head back cumming hard into the condom. As his high came down, he mentally scolded himself and closed his eyes once again, but this time in irritation.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Tina screamed, pushing him off of her, “You’re fucking that freak?!” She yelled dramatically.

Billy rolled his eyes.

"Need a ride home, or are you walking?" Billy asked, his tone nonchalant as he completely disregarded her reaction, casually pulling up his pants and getting dressed.

Tina rolled her eyes back at him. “You’re fucking unbelievable, Hargrove. Take me home,” she huffed, quickly redressing herself.

Billy smiled, hopping into the front seat, and drove off.

.

Once he was done with that, he drove back home, preparing himself for what was about to happen.

"Left eye? Right eye? Nah, too noticeable. People will start asking questions. The stomach? Yeah, that's more of Neil's style," he laughed bitterly, talking to himself.

This is what he wanted. He didn’t care anymore. He always managed to piss his father off somehow, and it would never be on purpose. This was him taking his power back. He’ll give him something to be upset about, he thought, determination coursing through him.

Stepping out of the car, Billy was enveloped by the quietness of the night.

He walked up the steps of his porch and took a deep breath before opening the door. As he entered, there was Neil, seated on the couch as if he were some kind of king. Billy closed the door behind him, locking it securely.

The silence stretched on for a few tense seconds, with nobody daring to break it. Neil waited for an immediate apology, hoping to see Billy cower in fear, but as the apology failed to come forth, Neil's anger only grew more intense.

"You know, with the amount of times I've beaten you, you would think that respect is drilled into that thick fucking brain of yours," Neil spoke up, his voice laced with venom and rage.

Billy stood there unfazed by his father’s words, bored even.

"Don’t you get tired, Dad? Tired of being a shitty fucking father?" Billy spat, laughing bitterly. Neil's eyes widened, and he stood up. "When you act like a shitty parent, this is what you get—a shitty son," Billy finished, his words dripping with resentment and defiance.

Billy’s heart pumped vigorously.

“I pity you. You’re a coward,” he spat out with contempt.

Neil charged at Billy, causing him to fall onto his back, and started throwing punch after punch at his face. “Who do you think you are, huh?!” Neil stopped to grab the collar of Billy’s shirt, bringing his face up to his.

"Your son," Billy spoke, his voice wobbly, blood coming out of his nose, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. He was deeply saddened by the poor excuse of a father he had.

Neil laughed dryly. “God, you’re a spitting image of her. You’re just like her too, pathetic,” he spat. “And I’m a coward? Are you forgetting that she abandoned you? She left you with me. What does that say about her?”

Billy now fueled with rage pushed Neil off of him and punched him dead in the face. All hell broke loose after that, with both men fighting seemingly to the death. Billy ended up on his back again, and this time Neil didn’t stop. Billy's vision started to blur, and the last thing he heard was Max and Susan's frantic voices as they attempted to pull Neil off of him.

.

You were drifting into a deep sleep until a loud banging on your door jolted you awake. Your eyes widened, and you got up immediately, the sound of your Walkman still playing in the background.

You ran towards the door as if it were instinct, and there stood Max. She was sobbing, tears staining her red cheeks.

“Max, what’s going on? Is he back?” you asked, reminded of what still lies beneath this town. Max shook her head vigorously.

“No, it’s Billy. Please, y/n, you need to help me and my mom get him into his car. Neil just beat the shit out of him and took off. We need to take him to the hospital!” She cried.

Without hesitation, you grabbed her hand and ran to the house next door. As you entered, you saw broken frames, beach shell decorations scattered everywhere, and broken glass littering the floor.

And there was Billy, his face bruised and gushing with blood. You wanted to sob instantly. The beautiful boy, with the most mesmerizing smile, lay unconscious on the floor, broken.

“I’ll take his arms, you two grab his legs. We need to move fast,” you said, suppressing every ounce of emotion and acting on pure instinct.

You all carefully descended down the steps, giving it everything you got, Billy wasn’t exactly light but you pushed with everything in you to get him into the back of that car. You fell into the back seat with him his head falling in your chest and Susan hopped in the drivers seat and max in the passenger seat.

You search Billy’s pockets and grab his keys, tossing them to Susan.

"Step on it, let's go! We have to hurry!" you said, your voice remaining calm but urging Susan to make haste.

Susan backed out of the driveway and stepped on the gas pedal of Billy’s car hauling ass to get to the nearest hospital.

You checked his pulse and confirming it’s still present, you notice his breathing is a bit light, sparking an overwhelming amount of anxiety within you.

You whisper softly in his ear, “You're going to be okay,” feeling tears welling up, but you quickly wipe them away, pushing your emotions down once more.

"Hey Susan, take a right here and pull into that spot," you instruct, recognizing the familiar surroundings.

You’d been here one too many times.

We pull right up to the emergency room entrance. Max rushes out, calling frantically for help. Two male nurses immediately respond, rushing out with a stretcher and opening the back seat of Billy’s car. You help him sit up slowly, and they swiftly pull him around with urgency, their movements slightly rough in their haste.

"Hey, watch it! Be careful with him!" you yell at the nurses, frustration and concern evident in your voice.

"Ma'am, please let us do our job," they respond firmly, their tone professional but reassuring.

We all hurriedly follow behind the nurses as they wheel Billy into the emergency room. A doctor approaches Susan, hoping for some insight into what happened so he can provide the best care possible. Susan tells him everything, providing as much detail as she can to assist in Billy's treatment.

"Please wait in the waiting room. We'll call you once we've assessed him and he's stable," the doctor says sympathetically, reassuring you as you reluctantly make your way to the waiting area.

You, Susan, and Max waited anxiously. Max buried her face into the crook of your neck, unable to contain her sobs. You brushed her hair gently, trying to offer comfort, but you were struggling to hold yourself together as well.

Being there brought back uneasy memories, and the uncertainty of Billy's condition only deepened your depression.

Over 25 minutes had passed, each second feeling like an eternity in the tense waiting room until,

"Miss Hargrove, miss Hargrove?" called a nurse, breaking the tense atmosphere. But as the nurse approached, her expression unreadable, a chill ran down your spine, leaving you to wonder what news she was about to deliver about Billy's condition.———————————————————————————

Taglist: @jennapancake @writethrough @callsignwidow @strlightfilms

Tags:

[leah-lover]

Closed for maintenance. Leah williamson × reader.

This is part 2. I took a gamble on the ending. If you don't like it tell me so that I can change it.

PS: thank you for all the support ❤️❤️.

I woke up the next day with a painful headache. The light painfully affected my eyes as soon as I opened them. At first I didn't take in my surroundings, all I thought about was the pain. Then suddenly it all came back, the party, the drinks, Leah, the kiss. Holy shit Leah I kissed Leah. “Oh no why do I do this why the hell do I always do this. Fuck.” I cursed at myself. Then I jolted up. This is not my room, it's probably Leah's. I quickly inspected the room, no longer feeling the pain in my head as I was preoccupied with the trouble I got into. I then noticed a note that said “ good morning beautiful, come join me in the kitchen.” 

I got up to refresh my hair. I was still in yesterday's clothes, so I just tidied myself and went out to join her.

I was met with the cutest sight in the world. Leah blasting ABBA, dancing and cooking what looks like eggs. With the biggest smile on my face I said “ good morning cap.”. She embarrassed turned down the music and replied “ good morning to you sleepy head, you were drunk last night so I brought you home I am not sure if you remember “

“ I do remember everything despite the earth shaking headache I am experiencing right now.” I added, which made her nervous. 

“ Leah the pan it's burning.” I pointed out. “Shit. Oh god. What are we gonna do?” she said while putting the pan in the sink.

“ Well I guess the girls are having brunch, maybe we should join them.” I suggested, afraid of the outcome of us being alone.

“ Good Idea I am gonna go get ready you tell the girls we are coming together, I mean yeah…., not together like in the same car I guess.” She blurred out while going up the stairs.

On our way to the restaurant Leah seemed nervous, she kept fidgeting with the console not knowing what to do. I just ignored the tension and stared at the window.

Once we arrived we were greeted by Katie. “ Look who just showed up in yesterday's clothes late.” She said,

“ Katie fuck off please and thank you.”She replied, ushering me to an empty seat and pushing the chair out for me. “Such a gentleman “ said Katie, which earned her a stern look from Leah.

The conversation flew rather quickly, and the girls grew tired and started to leave one by one. After a while I was left with Leah alone.

“ We need to talk about what happened yesterday, it is eating at me.” She started, “ it , you, have been eating at me since you joined. You are one of if not the most beautiful human beings I know. You are kind, sweet, and confident. You are a leader and a good friend. I ….” She added before I stopped her when I put a finger on her mouth. 

“ I need you to listen to me Leah. I can't let this go far. I have been in a relationship with my teammate. It has ruined my career. I left Chelsea because of my relationship with Niamh. I lost friends because they were hers first. I was left alone. I like the family here at arsenal. I don't want to lose that. Plus my heart is closed. I don't want a relationship. I can't handle a relationship right now.” I said with tears falling down my cheek.

“hey it's okay. It's not gonna be like that. Here at Arsenal what is mine is theirs. We have formed a group with Katie, Caitlain, Lia, Alessia,and Steph. What is mine is theirs and vice versa. That fact is known within the team. They won't only be my friends they will be your family. You won't be isolated. If god forbid something happened. Do you understand me?” She said, nervousness was apparent  on her face.

I stayed quiet for a moment, not knowing what to say or what to do. “ If you are not up to it that's okay.” She said, worry in her face. “ I don't know what to think. Maybe I just need to understand more.” I replied.

“ Let's go to  Katie's house, there you will understand.” She added, grabbing my hand and leading me out of the restaurant.

And right then and there a new chapter in my life began.

[signedkoko]

Hello! May I request a romantic scenario with Husk and a gn!reader? The reader is a worker at the hotel and does like Husk, but knows Angel feels the same, so they try to push their feelings aside because Angel is their friend. They confess their feelings for Husk in a letter, intending to keep it hidden, except they accidentally give him the letter instead of the envelope full of money that they owe him for the drinks.

Thank you for taking the time to read this and happy holidays! :)

Husk X Reader [Romantic]

In which you accidentally confess your feelings to your crush, Husk.

One of the ways you heard people could vent their feelings to others was by writing it all in a letter and giving it to them

In practice, one of the hardest parts about telling others your more personal thoughts was doing it face to face, so penning it down and slipping it under the door made that easier

You figured you could do something like that, except rather than hand it over, you'd keep it to yourself

So after confessing your deepest emotions about how you'd fallen for him, you signed the letter off to Husk and tucked it deep into your journal, where it'd likely never see the light of day

While keeping things so childish to yourself rather than confessing may seem silly, you knew it'd hurt your friend who had told you many times of their feelings for Husk

Angel Dust trusted you, and who were you to take someone he had finally come to love away from him?

Though, whenever Angel spoke to you about the future they imagined with Husk, you always found yourself silent, like your mood was suddenly crushed by stacks of lead

With another night wrapped up at the bar to celebrate some recent successes and milestones in the hotel, you'd forgotten to pay your tab and tucked into your room to rest

Not that it was uncommon, Husk knew where to find you if he needed it

Nevertheless, you knew your usual and kept note by placing what you usually owed into an envelope with his name on it, and slipped it into your bag without much thought

Later in the day, when you found yourself heading out the door for an appointment, you quickly swooped to the counter with the payment in mind

" So sorry about last night, I have everything I owe right in here somewhere- "

" Ah whatever, it's already been handled. On the house. "

Husk was shuffling a deck of cards in his hands as he spoke, seeming to avoid eye contact

Nevertheless, you insisted on paying him, and slammed the envelope you'd felt around for on the bar

" Oops! I accidentally left my dues on the bar! I gotta go! "

Rushing out the door, you never turned back despite his protests

It was only later, when you were finishing up at your appointment and picking up a quick refreshment to bring back that you pulled out your wallet, which had the very envelope you made this morning stuck between it

Oh no.

Hurriedly ploughing through your bag, you were terrified to see your journal was empty of any letter

Oh god, no.

The rush back to the hotel was like no other

When you finally shot the doors open, the bar was empty, nothing but a closed sign hanging from one of the bottle racks

Your next stop was Husk's room, which you took a moment to compose yourself before knocking

" There's no lock on the door. Just come in. "

Relaxing on the bed was no other than the winged demon, drinking from a bottle with his eyes closed

On the nightstand, your letter was wide open, pages sprawled on top of the envelope

" Husk? "

When he heard your voice, he shot straight up, wiping his mouth and hiding the bottle behind his wings

" Shit, hey. I didn't expect you to be here so soon. "

The silence was drawn out

" Listen, I really gotta give it to ya, your handwriting is really nice- "

" Just forget any of it okay? It's a stupid joke. "

" I don't think jokes have tear stains embedded in the paper. "

Begrudgingly, you shut the door behind you, exhaling a deep sigh with hands pushing into your forehead

" Oh calm down. Is the idea of datin' me really that bad? So what! We go on a few dates, I tell you I love you back, yada yada. "

He was extremely nonchalant about the topic as he continued on about your new relationship with him

" Wait. You…Want to date me? "

You pointed at yourself, to which he chuckled and rolled his eyes

" I dont give free drinks to people I don't like. "

Author's Note - This was kind of long I am so sorry I got too into it!! I may as well have written a oneshot but also I am lazy so here this is 🖤 Thank you for requesting!

[rush-the-stars]

AFFECTION'S EDGE: PART III

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|| alpha!suguru getou x omega!afab reader || E/18+ || wc: 6.8k || ao3 || <- part ii || masterlist ||

minors and ageless blogs do not interact, 18+ only

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“You’ve got it all wrong,” he murmurs, “but what am I to expect from a stray like you? You’ve lived off scraps and abuse your whole life; of course you don’t know what to do now that I’ve given you food and shelter.” Suguru’s fingers ease up towards your neck as he continues, “a warm bed to lie in. Toys to play with. A collar—so you’ll never be lost again. No one’s ever given you this before, hm?”

***

Suguru tries to tame you.

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✧ SPRING FEVER collab ✧

cw: omegaverse, brat taming, mind games, toxic behavior, yandere suguru getou, yandere reader, biting, blood, marking, one slap from the reader to suguru and he sorta likes it, fainting, fainting from lack of food, reader refuses to eat because she doesn't want getou to feed her, getou does not let reader eat unless he feeds them; forced feeding. forced bathing, smut; masturbation, dirty talk, voyeurism, a blurring of boundaries, consent as punishment?

a/n: happy mother's day to alpha suguru getou <3 this is the third and final part of this lil series for @lorelune 's spring fever collab! pls mind the warnings, i added some! i will be honest this part feels like a fever dream to myself lol...,.not beta read..,.i barely read it back bc im terrified of my own smut JFDKLSK enjoy LMAO but on a real note, thank you to everyone who has reached out and been so kind ab this fic! i hope you enjoy this last part! let me know your thoughts <33

━─━────༺༻────━─━

When Suguru first offers you food from his own hand, you push it away. He cooked it for you and you refuse it, turn your nose up at him and shut your mouth resolutely, feel your lips cage your teeth like a muzzle

“I’ll do it myself.” You tell him firmly. 

But then he holds the food away from you. 

You go nearly a day and a half, feverish and woozy, without eating. 

You do not plan on conceding, but end up fainting not long after. Your body is under too much stress; you need sustenance. You need food and water. 

So he begins to feed you as your lashes flutter and you are too weak to deny him this time. 

It’s easier, when you can hardly keep your eyes open. His hands are impossibly gentle. You feel his fingers against your lips, careful, and loving. 

When you’re feeling better, you glower at him. 

He is rather pleased, though. 

The next time he tries to feed you by hand, you turn and bite his hand, sink your teeth into the meat of it. 

He laughs warmly, fondly. 

“Feel better to get that out of your system?” He asks, when you finally pull away. 

You don’t respond to him.

He grabs your face swiftly then, big hand fitting around your jaw and bearing down. This time, he holds you steady, and brings the slice of orange to your mouth. 

You squirm, but he says, “I will not have you fainting again.” 

“Let me feed myself then.” You manage to get out, but he holds you tighter, presses at your jaw to get it to unhinge. 

The orange pops into your mouth. 

“You’re insufferable.” You say around it, cheek puffed with the fruit. 

Unfortunately, it’s good. Sweet. A little cool. Refreshing. You do want more. 

“This doesn’t have to be so difficult.” He responds evenly, peeling away the next piece of the orange. It looks so small in his hands. 

You swallow the piece in your mouth. 

“You’re right,” you respond stubbornly, “it doesn’t.” You reach for the next piece but he holds it away from you. 

Frustration overcomes you, chokes you like thorny vines strangling out the softer plants around them. Heat hits your face again and you have to wonder if you’ll ever get over it all. If he’ll ever stop making you feel this way.

Tears prick your eyes again. 

You turn your face away from him. He sighs. 

“It isn’t so bad,” he says softly, “if you’d just give in.” 

You sniff. “I could say the same of you.” 

“I’m trying to take care of you,” he says, “and at every turn, you are still trying to refuse it.” 

“I don’t need—”

“But don’t you want it?” He asks gently, hand reaching out slowly, knuckles first, so they skim your cheek. “It’s okay to want.” 

Stubbornly, you remain silent. 

“You’ve been so alone, for so long, my little stray. It’s okay to be taken care of.” He consoles softly, voice just a rumble that warms to your ears. 

“I’ll not think you any less strong, if you let me feed you now.” He promises, “if you let me care for you this week.” 

You don’t know why, but a tear slips down your cheek. There’s a lump in your throat, hard and aching, and threatening your resolve. 

He catches your tear with a thumb. “Poor thing, so torn up.” 

You sniff hard, trying to hold everything in. It’s trembling and tender, though, your heart. The ache in your chest.

You don’t think you’ll win this one—

Your head is foggy and throbbing. You don’t even know what you’re winning or losing. Or what you’re fighting for, when he puts it that way. 

You feel silly for denying him.

Perhaps worse for agreeing.

Finally, in a voice smaller than intended? you ask, “can I have another piece?” 

Suguru studies you for a moment. 

He lifts the curved bend of the orange up to your lips, testing. Waiting. It's a half moon curve, ripe and tempting.

You give in and part your lips, accept the crescent into your mouth like holding the moon on your tongue for him. 

He presses it inside, on your tongue, and you accept the crescent like holding a soft, tangerine moon in your mouth for him. His fingers skim your teeth, placing a world there, on your tongue.

“Good girl,” he says, pleased and warm, when you close around the slice. 

And then you obediently swallow it down—worldeater that you are, hungry dog that you are. 

Another tear slips free as you chew it slowly. It’s tangy and sweet and lovely. You feel the well of emotions inside you open up, threatening to drag you down into its depths—you think if you start to cry now, you won’t ever stop.

Suguru dutifully peels off another piece of orange, making sure it’s free of rind or unwanted seeds. 

When he lifts it to your mouth, you open readily for it now. Close your lips around his fingers gently, around the sweet orange.

With tears in your eyes, you look up at him, through wet lashes. 

His scent has darkened, pungent and spicier. It lingers in the back of your mouth. It’s—it makes your head spin.

And there's a strange look in his eyes now. 

Almost hungry himself, if you didn’t know better. 

A cramp rolls through you, hips and lower back churning, and you whimper, reaching for him. 

He takes hold of you easily. 

“Hurts?” He muses softly.

You nod, tense and quick. 

“Breathe,” he urges, shifting between your knees from where you’re sitting perched on his counter. 

Instinctively, you cling to him.

You let yourself pull him closer, fit himself to you—

“Breathe,” he says again gently.

But you can feel him between your legs, you can feel his own desire, and it strikes you like a bolt of lightning. Like crashing to earth.

He’s hard and heat sweeps through you in a whirlwind, so fast it makes you feel dizzy. Your head spins as you sink your nails deep into him, bear down with your strength like a bad dog, like you could get him to stay. 

Distantly, you think he’s such a strange, awful man. 

Is he so turned on from feeding you? Or from the fight? 

“Suguru,” you mewl, clinging to him desperately. And he holds you, keeps you close, until your hips twitch. 

You seek friction and he denies you. 

Frustratingly, tears spring to your eyes again. 

“You’re so—“ you try to get out, “why are you also denying yourself?” 

“Because I made you a promise.” Suguru responds evenly. He pauses, eyes flickering over you, a lightning flash of violet, “and, perhaps,” he squeezes your waist, “to teach you a lesson.” 

A noise of frustration works its way out of you, a little growl or whine, somewhere in the back of your throat. 

“Won’t you do anything to help me?” You get out, pawing at his shoulders, his chest. 

“I’m feeding you,” he says, “I’m caring for you.” 

And then he draws away, back to the orange, and your fingers grip the edge of the counter until pain presses into them. You have to force air into your lungs, try and make your head stop spinning. 

The wooziness and the aching is perhaps the worst part. You feel out of your mind, wish you could crawl out of your body. 

When Suguru returns, he has another piece of orange between his fingers. 

You glare up at him with glassy eyes. 

“Open,” he says, warm and low.

Pleased.

Turned on. 

Your lips part and you accept the fruit and his fingers into your mouth. You let yourself close around them, feel his knuckles on the inside of your warm, wet cheek. 

You’re slow about it, or maybe he is. 

You hold his gaze furiously. 

Maybe it was time you taught him a lesson, too. You bite down hard into the orange. It bursts in your mouth. 

***

The third day is perhaps the worst.

You’re so hot and somehow both overstimulated and undertouched. Your skin crawls until Suguru touches you. You ache in a way that makes you fear for your own health; several times you start to cry—not just cry, but bawl—from the pain. From the frustration.

At one point, you beg Suguru to take you to the hospital. To help you. To save you. 

You babble that you’re going to split apart. You’re going to lose your mind.

Like a colicky baby, you can’t calm down. 

And this time, he can’t quite seem to soothe you, either.

You twist and turn and pull at your clothes and your hair. You dig your nails into your own skin and drag them down in vicious, curving marks. 

You press and scratch at inflamed, painful scent glands. 

Your jaw hurts strangely in the joints. 

(You realize you want something in your mouth. Maybe you want it between your teeth.) 

Suguru tries to hold your hands away from yourself, tries to keep you from tearing into your own skin, but it only worsens you. It only makes you fight harder and cry harder. You lash out more, using more force with yourself, with him. 

When he snaps finally, pinning you roughly and with a flash of his sharper, greater canines, something inside of you howls. 

All you can do is beg and plead and cry. Press up against him desperately. Sink your face into his throat and inhale and—

Bite.

Your teeth close around the skin of his throat and bear down harshly.

He inhales sharply, spine going rigid with the pain for a moment.

You taste his blood on your tongue and feel your eyes roll blissfully to the back of your head. Darkness as your lashes flutter shut. You whimper into his throat—

“Is that what you needed?” He hisses, slipping his hand behind you to cradle your head to him, to keep you at his throat, “you just needed to get your teeth into me?” 

As if in response, you twine yourself around him, hitching your legs around his waist. Your arms winding around his broad shoulders, as if you could absorb him into your very body, your very soul. 

“Too bad it won’t take, hm?” Suguru muses, unmoving, allowing himself to melt into your vice grip on him. 

You make a soft noise; one that would be embarrassing if you didn’t—if you weren’t so—

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? To Mark me properly?” He continues, voice bedroom soft, “you want to scar me with your own teeth?” 

As if in response, you try and fasten your mouth down harder, grinder your teeth into his flesh until he groans. The sound reverberates through you, rattles around inside your head until you’re mindless with it. 

When you finally manage to unlatch your teeth, he hisses and pulls away to grab your jaw. 

“What a little beast,” he sneers at you, “with my blood all over your mouth.” 

Something inside of you snaps. 

Unintentionally, you shudder into your cursed form—teeth elongating, nails sharpening. Strength rips through your otherwise feeble, heat-laddled body. In a sudden move of power, you shove him hard, and throw him off you. 

In an instant, you are back atop him. 

This time, when your teeth sink into the juncture of his other shoulder, they are far longer. 

He actually cries out in pain. 

The sound sparks beneath your skin, roars to life like a sudden fire and when he tries to grab your jaw and pry you off him, your claws sink into his wrist. 

You struggle with each other, using your cursed energy, using all the strength you have. 

Blood drips down his chest, dampening the collar of his shirt. 

He barks out a pained laugh, “you really are a curse.”

And then he is forcing you off of him, wrenching your teeth out of his skin in a brutal drag, shoving you away from him. 

You hiss, baring your dripping fangs at him and he growls back. The sound low and primal. Warning bells ping around your head, but you lunge for him again. 

This time, he isn’t so ill-prepared. 

He grapples with you on the bed, shoving you down into it with his forearm bearing down hard into your chest. 

You make a noise of pain but he doesn’t let up.

He’s panting and bleeding, his long hair slipping from its usual half-up appearance. 

Something inside of you is quite pleased at the image of him. 

Not so pristine. 

Perhaps unsure, for once in all the time you’ve known him. 

“Calm down.” He says low and soft. Part growl, part purr. “Your aggression is misguided.” 

Your teeth are bared in a snarl, “you are my tormentor.” 

“I am only respecting your wishes.” Suguru says and there is a horrible, smug lift to the corner of his lips. Maybe it’s more a threat of his teeth, which gleam in the lowlight. “I made you a promise and I’m keeping it.” 

“Let me up,” you snap. 

“Will you be good?” Suguru asks. 

Your fever spikes, tears pricking again at your eyes, and you finally lose your transformation. It melts from you, until you are fangless and drained once more. 

So drained, in fact, that your eyes gutter.

Suguru is off you in an instant. Air rushes into your lungs, the pressure from your chest lifting and he lets you heave for breath rough and hard. 

You don’t catch him move, but suddenly a glass of water is brought to your lips. When you can breathe, you drink. You let him guide it to your lips. And this time, when you try to pull away, he stops you. 

His hand cradles the back of your head, keeping your mouth to the glass.

“More,” he presses, “you’re weaker than you know.” 

And for once, you don’t fight him. 

You gulp down the rest of it, some of it slipping from your mouth, down your chin, rolling down your working throat. It’s cool but barely a balm to the oppressive heat inside of you. 

When you finish, Suguru pulls the glass away. He sets it down and studies you.

He tsks softly, “you’re a mess.” 

You take him in, though your eyes are growing heavy, all of that fighting took a lot out of you. It’s catching up with you quickly now. 

But your eyes land on the bite marks you’ve littered him with. The one, specifically, that is still ringed and bleeding, dripping down his chest. 

“So are you.” You reply, words slurring. 

You don’t catch what he says next, muffled, as you fade from consciousness. Darkness sweeps in to cradle you, much the way Suguru is now, and you fall into a restless sleep. 

***

Suguru wakes you at some point. 

It’s pitch black outside the window; there is very little light in the room at all, which adds to your confusion. Your head is throbbing. 

You whimper. 

“Sit up for me,” his voice is a hush, “can you do that?” 

“Let me sleep,” you reply, pushing weakly at him as he forces you up. Everything swims. Your head lolls like a doll and he catches it so you don’t give yourself whiplash. 

“You’re burning up,” he replies, “I need to get the fever down.” 

You don’t have the wherewithal to understand this. 

For a moment, you hope that he means—

“I’m going to give you a bath.” 

You make another noise, this one in disagreement. Fussy. 

He tuts softly at you, the way mothers do at bad children, and then he disappears, allowing you to fall back against the bed once more. 

You’re not sure for how long, but you doze off again, unable to keep your eyes open. You only awake when Suguru lifts you clear from the bed and into his arms. Again, you make a noise of protest, pushing weakly at him, but he pays you no mind. 

You open your eyes and wince against the bathroom light. 

The bath is running, filling with water. You frown and squirm in his hold, just as he gently sets you on the floor beside the tub. 

“Let’s get you out of these clothes,” he murmurs and you push his hands away.

“No,” you snap, “leave.” 

He sighs, “you can hardly sit up right now. I don’t trust you in the bath alone.” 

“I’m not a child,” you protest.

“No, but you’re experiencing a compounded Heat, after years of not having one and you don’t have a knot to soothe you.” Suguru’s voice is cool. His eyes are, too. 

You level him with the best glare you can manage, “and whose fault is that?” 

“I’m only keeping my promise.” He almost sings. 

You swat at him but he catches your wrist easily and pulls you up further as you begin to slouch further and further down against the edge of the tub. “Come,” he says, “don’t make this harder than it needs to be.” 

This time, when he reaches to remove your shirt, you only grumble in protest. He peels it from you carefully, revealing bare skin. Despite how hot you are, you shiver hard. 

You ache. 

This is the worst fever you’ve ever had. Perhaps, this is one of the worst you’ve felt ever. 

You can hardly move enough to allow Suguru to slip your bottoms off and you feel so miserable that you can’t even find it in yourself to be embarrassed or frustrated or angry. 

Tears bead at your eyes again but it’s purely because you are in so much pain. 

Suguru lifts you into the bath. 

It’s lukewarm. Tufts of bubbles smell like lavender. The water is milky and gentle. 

You don’t realize it, but you’ve started to cry again, reaching out for Suguru. You realize he’s cleaned and bandaged his bite mark. He also coos to you, rolling up his sleeves to reach you in the water, stroking at your throat, your cheek.

And then he takes a wash cloth in hand and begins to do the same. He bathes you with a strange gentleness. A gentleness you have not given him. Your tears continue, tracking down your face, which he dutifully washes, too. He wipes away your tears, any sweat and grime, until you feel shining and new.

Eventually, you rest your arms on the lip of the bathtub, folded, and lay your cheek against them. You’re exhausted and still hurting, but at least quiet for now. At least you are cleaned and—

Suguru strokes at your cheek, traces the curve and folds of your ear, gently strokes through your hair. 

“Poor thing,” Suguru murmurs, knuckles drawing across your jaw, down your throat. When he passes along your scent gland, you shiver, you wince a little. 

“Hurts,” you get out and he coos more to you.

Babying you.

And you don’t have the strength to deny him any longer, so you let yourself be babied. You whimper at him and let him try to soothe you, you let him quiet and pet you. 

You’re looking at each other rather frankly, through the haze of your Heat, through all the lust or aggression or fear. In a rare moment of peace, you gaze up at his face and he looks down into yours. 

“Do you hate me?” You ask and your voice is rather raw from all the crying, “is that why you’ve led me here?” 

A strangely fond smile touches his lips, “on the contrary,” Suguru replies, fingers careful along your cheek, “I adore you.” 

“You have such a strange way of showing it.” You tell him. 

“I’m only keeping my promise,” he says again and all you have in you is a deep, dejected sigh. 

“I’m going to make you pay for this, Suguru.” And though your tone is docile, even sleepy, it is a promise. 

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll try.” He agrees, touch growing stronger, bolder, as he pets down your throat, your shoulder. You lean into the touch like a cat, too exhausted to deny it. “And I’ll still be here after—your ire or punishment will not scare me away.” 

You look at him for a moment, long and hard, and only find the truth there. Something strangely raw.

After a moment, you say, “I know.” 

He hums softly, leaning forward to give your burning forehead a rare and gentle kiss, “do your worst, then.” 

You pick your head up barely, tilt your face to his and catch him in a sudden, burning kiss. 

You pull away as quickly as you’d done it. 

You can tell you’ve surprised him only momentarily, it passes over his features like a bird flickering through the sky, there and gone. 

And you say, “no,” soft, and against his lips, “I’ll do my best this time.” 

He pulls away, creating carefully controlled distance. “Come,” he says, urging you up and out of the bath, “let’s get you to bed.” 

“Carry me?” You ask as he bundles you into a soft towel. “Let me wear your shirt?” 

His eyes glint violet, dark and quick, but he says, “of course.” And indulges you.

He even holds you all night and lets you sleep in late. 

The fever only worsens. 

And you can’t tell if your resolve crumbles or strengthens; but either way, you’re born anew with the sun the next day. 

*** 

Suguru woke up before you. He let you sleep in. But now you're awake and waiting for him. When Suguru returns to wake you in the early afternoon, instead of sleeping, you are half-lidded and sun-warmed, laying in his sheets still. The fever has reached a pitch inside you. You’re sure it’s done irreparable damage to your mind and psyche because of how you find yourself.

Because of how Suguru finds you. 

The shirt of his you’d worn to bed is pushed up to your chin, revealing your bare chest, your stomach, flexing and twitching, with your legs spread. Your fingers between them, working messily against yourself, against where you’ve needed since your Heat began. 

For once, you have shocked Suguru. 

Enough that his lips part. 

Just a flash, a ripple of his features, before he smooths them out quickly. Effortlessly. But it is enough to spur you on regardless, to feel just slightly triumphant. 

You keen softly, arching your back, pushing your fingers gently through silken folds. 

“Suguru,” you mewl his name, all soft and broken, arching your hips into your own touch desperately. Beyond your desire for revenge, is simply your desire, the need to feel full, to feel pleasure like this. And you reasoned with yourself, all night, and all morning, that you’d win regardless; either you’d wrestle his tightly held control from his grasp, and get what you so desperately want from him, or you’d still get to touch yourself and find some brief moment of reprieve. 

Beyond either of those two things, you could not think. They ran around your mind like wild, starved dogs hunting down the possibility of a rabbit. 

(Or are you the rabbit? Running around and around your mind, trying to escape the bite? Or are you looking for it?) 

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asks and for a moment, he doesn’t dare step closer to you or the bed. 

You push a finger inside yourself, it goes in easy—so slick and easy—that the next pass, you add a second and gasp. 

What are you doing? You feel half out of your mind. 

“Can’t help it—” you get out, “it hurts so bad. It’s—I’m so—” 

You watch a muscle in his jaw feather and tick. His scent is—

It hits you like a blow to the chest, the way he smells. It’s dark and spiced with warmth; tobacco and the oud in his scent has become heavier. You can almost taste it in the air.

“Suguru—“ you mewl again, pleading and cloying. You tilt your hips up towards your hand, towards him. You’re trying to entice him. 

You can nearly hear the way his teeth grind together. 

“You’re a brat,” he hisses but you can sense the way his control has slipped and thinned. You can nearly feel it fraying in his voice alone.

You practically purr, fingers pushing desperately inside yourself. 

“I haven’t done anything wrong,” you simper, “I’ve been so good letting you feed me and bathe me—I’m wearing the shirt you put me in, too.” 

For a moment, you watch as his eyes slowly dip down the length of your body, to where your fingers are. You watch his expression flicker, the tilt of his eyebrows, the slight parting of his lips. You whimper, knowing he’s watching, and try to curl your fingers. 

But they don’t reach as deep as his might—not thick enough, either, and the ache inside you grows monstrously. 

Perhaps only soothed by the way, for once, you’ve rendered Suguru Getou rather speechless. You toss your head back and moan at the thought. 

“Suguru—won’t you help me? Even a little?” You arch off the bed and catch his gaze when his eyes fly back up to your face. 

“No,” he snaps quickly, “I promised you—“

“Then tell me what to do—talk to me.” You beg, “it hurts so bad, Suguru—“

The muscle in his jaw feathers again. But this time, he wades carefully into the room, stepping closer to the edge of the bed.

The moment he’s there, you adjust so he can see you better, move so your foot is just nearly touching his thigh at the end of the bed. And even that small potential for touch has you crying out again. 

“I’m not sure I should, after the way you’ve been acting.” He says and though he’s trying for casualness, you can sense the tension lurking underneath.

“Touch yourself then,” you breathe, your own eyes drifting down to his sweatpants—to the noticeable bulge—

In a bold move, you place your foot on his lower abdomen, looking up at him through your lashes as your fingers gently push in and out, walls fluttering desperately around them.

He catches your ankle before you can move another inch. The way he squeezes you makes a thrill run through you, race up your spine, pool somewhere low and hot in the depths of you. 

“Is this your way of trying to make me suffer?” He asks and despite everything, a hint of a smile flickers across your heated, panting face.

“Is it working?” You ask. 

All he does is hum, thumb stroking along the bone of your ankle.

Even that is enough for pleasure to skitter and flare beneath your skin. 

“Wanna see you,” you get out, breathy and soft, “wanna see what I’m missing.”

Suguru curses and you laugh, delirious and soft.

Pleasure blushes and surges beneath your skin. 

“No,” he says again but he has to grind the word out, pull it and wrestle it from his own mouth. “You won’t get the better of me here.” 

“Don’t you get tired of your tightly wound control?” You get out, twisting a little so that you might free your ankle from his grasp, but he holds firm.

“I should be asking the same of you—but clearly,” his eyes flicker again, “you do.” 

“Need you so bad—“ you get out, almost pouting. 

You can nearly hear his teeth grind together. He inhales sharply, as if to try and steady himself, but you can tell it only worsens him. Your scent must be thick in the air, sweetened and cloying.

Your fingers slip messily, desperately, over your clit, down inside of yourself and back out. You whine, a little frustrated, trying again and again to satiate the ache inside of you. But anything you do, isn’t enough. 

It almost feels as if it’s made it worse. 

“Poor thing,” Suguru finally says and you realize, he’s regained some of his composure, “look what you’ve done to yourself.” 

You curse this time. 

But you press on, unwilling to give up your win yet, “you’ve also done this—because you wanted the upper hand so bad.” You press inside yourself, hips lifting towards your fingers, “you didn’t have to take the suppressants.” 

His brow flickers up, “I did it for you.” 

“Did you?” You gasp, adding a second finger. 

He swallows, eyes falling to the apex of your thighs, watching, as you fitfully try to pleasure yourself. 

“You didn’t have to—you could’ve let me trigger your Rut. Then we both would’ve been like this—” your voice hitches, “then you would’ve gotten what you wanted sooner and you could’ve feigned innocence.” 

“You didn’t want that,” he says, watching you carefully, “who's to say you won’t come out of this Heat and resist me again?”  

“I won’t,” you breathe, “I did—” you mewl, hips arching and falling, trying so hard, working yourself up so horribly. 

You bite off a groan. 

Suguru clicks his tongue, makes a soft, disapproving noise. “And now look at you,” his hand slides along your calf, so large, and—

“Don’t even know how to properly touch yourself.” 

“Suguru—” 

Suddenly, he tugs you gently, so you’re down at the edge of the bed, your legs on either side of his thighs as he stands above you. 

He leans down slightly and you sit up, towards him, hoping, desperate—

“Such a terrible, little Omega. Do you need me to teach you this, too? Do you need me to help you?” 

You cry out, kitten soft, as needy and tender as a child. 

“Please,” you beg, “please, I need you—”

His hand traces up the outside of your calf, up to your thigh and you squirm, hope fluttering, heart racing—

“Don’t move,” he murmurs, “or I won’t help you.” 

“Suguru,” you growl in frustration. 

“Ah, ah, I thought you were being good?” 

Your head spins—you have no idea how he managed to flip it on you so sharply, but suddenly he has, and suddenly you're nearly underneath him, and he’s leaning over you and watching so intensely—so— 

You try to go still for him. Your chest is heaving. 

“That’s it,” he murmurs and his hand slowly arcs over the bend of your hip, and towards your stomach. Your hips twitch and he stills, “careful—” he warns. 

You force yourself to freeze, still panting. 

And then he lays the broadness of his hand on your lower stomach, his thumb just barely brushing your mound. 

“This is as far as I’ll go,” he says and with the way you almost fall into a frustrated groan, he seizes your chin with his other hand, “I’ll not touch you sexually. This is all I’ll give you—be grateful for even this.” 

You sneer at him and he takes his hand away. 

Instantly, you miss the warmth, the pressure, the—

“Be good, or I’ll leave the room now and let you suffer even worse than before—see what you’ve done to yourself? Worked yourself up so horribly, and all for what?”  Suguru’s voice is soft and smooth and so, horribly in control again. When did he get it back? When did he take it from you? 

“My attention? The hopes that I’d give in?” He asks. 

When you don’t respond, he squeezes your face, prompting you, “answer me, pet.” 

“Yes—I want your attention. I want—” the words break over you like a wave, the realization like a blow. You want. 

You desire. 

You want him. You want an Alpha and not just any Alpha but Suguru, despite everything, maybe because of everything. Maybe because you made him chase, and he did. Maybe because you have run your whole life from this—this attention and this desire and this intimacy—and you have finally found someone willing to hunt you down like a fox, and in the face of your gnashing teeth and growling and yipping, to treat you gently. Like you’re a beloved house pet and not a snarling, wild beast. 

“I want you,” you say honestly and his hold slackens on your cheeks to let you speak, “I hate you and I want you and—there’s no one but you—it’s only you and you’re awful but I am, too, and I need—” 

It cracks out of you, voice raw, a half-sob. 

Your tears make him smile. 

He hushes you gently, “oh, sweet girl,” he soothes, and his other hand slowly returns to its place on your trembling, lower stomach, “you’re so torn up about this. How much grief have you given yourself? Hm? Just for wanting?” 

You heave, unable to respond, suddenly reaching with your free hand for him, pulling on his shirt, closer to you. 

He gives in and goes, lets you claw at his back and bury your face in his shoulder. He finally lets go of your face, in favor of letting you fall to pieces beneath him. His knee dips on the mattress. But he holds himself above you still.

“I’ll guide you now,” he murmurs and his voice is by your ear. He turns his nose to nudge against your temple, inhaling slowly. 

You can feel the rumble of a groan through him that he holds back, a soft growl. 

And then, “look at me.” 

You sniffle and with a great deal of reluctance, you pull your face away from the safety of his shoulder to find his gaze. Midnight violet. Depthless. 

“Hate me all you want,” he says, “but I adore you—no matter how you are. Willing and pliant, or vicious and biting. I’ll always adore you. And I’ll always do what’s best for you.” 

Something inside of you cleaves open. Fractures in a way that is irreparable. 

You want to say something but you don’t know what, you have something so tremendous and terrifying inside of you, because of him—all you can get out is a soft cry. 

“Now,” he continues, eyes flickering over your body, and his thumb gently strokes over your lower stomach. “You feel empty, don’t you?” 

A whimper eeks out of you. You nod slowly. Empty and torn apart and open and aching. 

“Use three fingers, not two.” He commands gently, “you want something bigger, hm? I’m sure it hurts so badly—you’re so wet.” 

Without thinking, you obey him. 

You press three fingers carefully inside of you and it’s the first stretch you’ve gotten, the first spark of relief. 

You cry out, clinging to him. 

“That’s it,” he encourages, “in and out for me.” 

You tilt your hips up into his hand, towards your fingers, and he doesn’t scold you. The pressure on your lower stomach makes pleasure bloom and strengthen there. For a moment, it’s just the soft, slick noises of yourself, and it’s so—

Embarrassing. So horrible. 

You must look out of your depth, you must look lost or terrified, because he finally speaks again, “curl your fingers for me, darling.” 

You do just that and moan the moment you press deeper inside yourself. 

“Good girl,” he praises, “does that feel better? Answer me.” 

“Yes—yeah.” You get out, crooking your fingers inside yourself. “I still want—” 

“More?” He murmurs, pressing his hand gently against your lower stomach, “this time, you have to make do with just this.” 

You bite back your whine or complaint, head hazy—fingers moving desperately. But you don’t complain, you don’t fuss. 

He smiles when he realizes how you’ve caught yourself, “oh, look at that,” he purrs, “you can be tamed after all.” 

And before you can ruin it for yourself, Suguru sweeps his thumb just barely over your mound again, and says, “rock your hips now, gentle.” 

The moment you do, the friction against your palm makes you moan, head falling back, baring your throat. 

Perhaps without thinking, he dips forward, nose tracing over the cure of your neck, following instinct. You make another soft noise, and in your haze, wish desperately that he would just bite down—

All you get is the brief skim of his warm, soft lips. No teeth and you miss them, achingly. 

He presses his hand down just a little more and—

Pleasure bursts beneath your skin with enough force that your back bows off the bed, mouth parted. 

You sob. 

You feel your walls flutter uselessly around your fingers, feel your body desperate for something you can’t have this time, and fall apart.

Suguru is there to catch you. 

He coos to you, soft and easy, and even kisses at your damp, tear-struck cheeks. He lets you arch and twist and chase your pleasure, lets you be wanton and shameless and desperate. He lets you claw him and bite him and cry into his shoulder. 

And when you begin to quiet, he suddenly hitches your legs around his waist and lifts you clear from the bed. You lope your arms weakly around his neck and bury your face into his throat. 

You don’t protest or fight him, you are grateful and eager for all the places you touch, feeling incredibly fragile in his broad arms.  

You don’t bother to look where he’s taking you—can’t find it in yourself to care, if you can feel him against your center, feel where he’s hard and aching himself, even with the suppressants—

But between one breath and the next, you’re in the bathtub again, and the water from the shower blasts on from above. 

Ice cold water pours on you. 

You shriek and Suguru has the nerve to laugh, which makes you lunge for him, yanking him towards the spray of water. 

It soaks his shirt, his hair, as he holds himself over you, before stepping carefully into the tub to join you. 

He sits with you, beneath the cold water, and pushes his hair out of his face as you clamber into his lap. 

You pull at his wet shirt and he lets you take it off of him, throw it over the side of the tub in a heap. 

He reaches to do the same to you, ridding you of the only article of clothing you’d had on. 

You grit your teeth, “does it have to be so cold?” You ask, feeling the spray now rain against your back, your shoulders. You lean away from it, into his arms. 

“You needed this.” He says fondly. And then, as he strokes your wet hair, “I did, too.” 

“You’re an awful man,” you curse him, shivering.

“I know,” he agrees with a soft, fond smile. 

You look at him, hair inky and dark, lashes damp against his cheek, and the pleased way he smiles. Like an insufferable, giant cat. You’re aching and furious and freezing and so—so tender. 

“I hate you,” you tell him but it sounds more like a confession, soft around the edges. 

He kisses your temple, lingers there, and you can feel the curve of his smile. You can hear it color his voice;

“I know.” 

***

Something shifts between the two of you after that. And the following day, your Heat finally begins to wane slightly. 

You try to touch yourself again and Suguru forbids it this time. You fight and snarl with him, but you let him hold you and lull you to sleep. You let him feed you. And bathe you. You sleep bare against his naked chest and are soothed by it the way a fussy baby is calmed by the bare skin of their mother. 

You feel infinitely closer to him. 

You lounge with him in bed, in his living room, hanging off him all that you can. 

He indulges this behavior, encourages it, even. 

And on the eighth day, your Heat finally breaks. 

When you wake, still curled on his chest, with his hands stroking tenderly over your bare back, he asks, “how do you feel?” 

“Sane, I think.” You murmur it into his chest. 

“Your Heat broke in the night.” He says and touches your head, your forehead, like he’s taking your temperature. “You’re still a little warmer, but it’s over now, I think.” 

Slowly, you pick yourself up to look at him. To hover over him. 

He looks up at you, too, uncertain. Waiting. You’re sure he’s waiting to see if you’ll return to your usual self, if you’ll snap or snarl or chew him out—will you storm out? Or seethe? Will you fight him still, after everything, even as he holds you in his arms now? 

“Thank you for respecting my wishes,” you say instead and lean down to suddenly press your lips to his. 

You feel his surprise, the way his lips part, the way he freezes and you sink down into it. For a moment, you worry he won’t reciprocate again. 

But then, his hand comes up to cradle your face, and he nudges into the kiss. Hungry. Deep. 

You give into him, you encourage him, coaxing him with soft tongue and eager mouth. 

When you pull away, you grab his face this time, the way he always grabs yours, squeezing his lips into a little pout, “but if you ever make me suffer like that again through a Heat,” your nails dig into his cheek, “I’ll fucking kill you.” 

He laughs, canines flashing, and surges forward to kiss you again. Harder. Meaner. 

It’s all teeth and heat, a little vicious, the way you are. He wrestles you beneath him, kisses you into the mattress. And when he pulls away, he says;

“If you ever make me suffer like that again, you’ll wish you’d killed me first.” 

You feel your own smile against his neck, against one of the ridges of your own bite mark, and with all the satisfaction in the world, you sink your teeth down into it again. 

It’s like a key coming up against a lock, fitting snugly to their own indents, and finding their own, well-worn place. 

It’s like finally coming home. 

[khunyuki]

"I've lived my life with blade and you always in my mind"

ꜱɪᴅᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ: 𝚏. 𝚁𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚃𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜

Synopsis: When younger Hoshina Soshiro realized what exactly puberty does to a boy leading to him having dreams about his fiancee every night, feeling extremely guilty when he sees her the next day.

Pairing/s: Hoshina Soshiro x Fiancee!OC

Note/s: It's been a while! This is kinda short but I hope you like it. Pretty mild I must say

Warning/s: Suggestive Content

Masterlist: TOC, Previous, Next

< It all started with an accidental peek >

When you're training with someone, it's only natural to attack your opponent and defend from any incoming strikes. And when you're sparring with Hoshina Soshiro, you know that he will not go easy on you even if you're his fiancee. Uzui Kagami knows this full well, having been his training partner whenever possible starting from a young age.

With every hit of his wooden sword, she tries to block it with her own as she looks for an opening to strike back.

CLACK CLACK CLACK

Getting pushed back by the intensity and speed of his hits, the wooden sword slipped out of Kagami's grip to the ground. His sword on her neck as she brought her hands up in surrender.

"I lost again. I don't think I could ever beat you Soshiro"

She admitted her defeat with a defeated smile as he brought the wooden sword back to his side. Kagami lay down on the ground in exhaustion, quite unladylike but too tired to care at the moment. Soshiro let out a chuckle as he wiped off his sweat with a towel. There were towels and refreshments prepared for them at the side.

"Well of course, I've been practicing my family's swordsmanship style since I could remember. No way you're beating me at this so quickly"

He showed her his tongue as he passed her a towel. She pouted as she sat up and took it, wiping her own sweat, clutching it in her hands after.

"If we spar using my family's swordsmanship, I am confident I could win though"

"Of course you will. You're already getting better at using Hoshina style swordsmanship, I guarantee you can be my equal in a few year's time"

He said it with so much confidence that it makes her believe that she'd actually be able to do so one day. It was enough to make her speechless and flustered as she hurriedly stood up and went to get some water, fanning her face as she does so.

A mischievous grin appeared on Soshiro's face when he saw a glimpse of her red ears, and how hard she tries to fan her face. He followed closely behind her and when she reached out to take a bottle, his hand suddenly appeared beside her. It was then that she's made aware of the presence that was so close to her. His face drifting next to her own as he took his own drink.

"Why is your face so red?"

He casually asked as if he didn't just pressed his body against her back with his other hand on her shoulder to get a drink. She clutched her bottle and towel to her chest as she watched him gulp down the drink, sweat trickling down his adam's apple. She was mesmerized by his beauty until she snapped out of her thoughts back to reality once she saw him looking at her.

"That... You— Ahh!"

She hurriedly opened her own bottle and made a mess because she was clutching it too tightly. Water splayed all over her face and training garb, even the towel in her hands wasn't spared. This earned her a sudden burst of laughter from the man beside her. Water was supposed to cool you down but it just further heightened her embarrassment.

"You look like a wet chick"

There's absolutely no way that the towel that absorbed most of the water could clean her up so she discarded it aside. She couldn't help but puff her cheeks at the male still laughing, clutching his stomach. It really isn't helping him as he imagined her like that.

"It's not funny!"

She crossed her arms as she turned away from him, clearly choosing to be more upset than embarrassed. Soshiro, thinking he might've went too far, tried to stop laughing though it would still leak out.

"Seriously, why are you so clumsy—"

He said as he passed her his own towel to she reluctantly accepted. She still have a pout on her face as she wiped herself down. She wondered why he suddenly went silent after laughing so hard but that was none of her business at the moment.

Soshiro just drank some water yet why is it that his throat was still so dry? He could feel the heat rising to his face as he remembered what he saw when she took his towel. Their training outfit was by no means thin despite being white so imagine his surprise when he saw a glimpse of baby blue sticking to her outfit.

He couldn't help but take a peek again, this time seeing her pat the area between her collarbones dry. This was the first time in a while he's ever looked at her closely, this time her body particularly. Was that always there? That small bump on her chest? He knew his fiancee was a girl and treated her as such but this is definitely the first time he realized... Ahhh she really is a girl...

"Is there something wrong?"

She asked, covering her chest with his towel naturally. She knew he's looking at her, she doesn't know exactly where he's looking with his eyes always closed. Though she knew it must've been something serious if he's uncharacteristically silent so suddenly.

"I'm going to the toilet"

He said as he ran away, leaving her alone and confused. For the rest of the day, he avoided her the whole time until she went home. His older brother only laughed at him muttering something like youth.

On the night of summer vacation of their first year of middle school, Hoshina Soshiro suffered from the nightly visits of a succubus donning the face of his fiancee.

=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=

< An unknowing touch >

"Why are you avoiding me?"

Kagami caught her fiancee off guard when she suddenly appeared beside him without a sound. He was taking a book of a shelf in the school library when she surprised him by suddenly appearing. The sudden jolt of his body was proof of that.

"I'm not"

Is what he said but avoided looking at her face when he does. This seem to drive her nuts as her mind went into overdrive, thinking of various reasons why he'd avoid her. She keeps thinking that maybe she did something wrong or if he's starting to hate her too.

"You're lying"

She pinned him on the shelf when he tried to escape, the books shaking from the sudden disturbance. Soshiro's heart is beating so fast as she'd never done this before. The sudden kabedon puts their bodies in close proximity that their chests are touching when he tries to escape. Her head looking down so he couldn't see her face, if she looked at him now she'd see his red face.

"Did I- Did I do something wrong? Is that why you're avoiding me? Do you... Do you hate me now?"

She bit her lip in hesitance before asking him. Her voice cracking a bit before ending it all in almost a whisper. He only glimpsed at her face and immediately regretted his actions brought upon him by puberty. Her trembling lips, her furrowed brows, and brimming eyes filled with insecurity, doubt, and evident hurt. He could sense that there was something dark and borderline scary in her gaze but it was instantly gone the moment it appeared.

"I don't hate you, you didn't do anything wrong. It was me"

He grabbed her arm as she prepared to leave, apologizing so fast. He went too far and he admits to himself that he hurt her with his actions. He won't forgive himself if something as stupid as this destroys their relationship.

"I did something wrong to you"

She looks at him urging him to continue but what exactly can he say? There's no way in hell he'd blurt out that he kept on dreaming about them doing stuff, keeping him up every night. He's definitely guilty about it but he felt even more guilt at her almost making her cry.

"I saw something that day"

What does that have to do with anything, Kagami thought. She frowned her brows in confusion as she tried to remember the day he started avoiding her. They were sparring and she lost then she went to get water where he teased her, in embarrassment she spilled water on herself and...

Her eyes opened wide at the realization. She covered her chest as she looked at him with a bright red face for confirmation to which he nodded without looking at her. Let's say it was her avoiding him now instead of the other way around.

<- Previous Next ->

[cuspofmoon]

pick a pile: what does the universe love about you?

hello! this is my first pick a pile ever on this platform. notes: take what resonates and leave what doesn't. this is a general reading so not everything would resonate 100% with you. hopefully, you can take something out of this pick a pile session.

take a deep breath and ask yourself, "what does the universe love about me?" and choose whichever pile that calls out to you! the explanation is right under the cut.

pile one

cards: the magician reversed, 3 of pentacles, the hierophant reversed

a lot of people have probably said that you are an eccentric individual with an unparalleled and unique way of thinking. you are one of a kind. it amuses everyone, it makes them shake their head in both confusion and fascination because, 'how could you think that way?'. sometimes you blurt out the most unconventional answer to an ordinary question because that's just the way your mind works. you think differently but that's also what makes people flock to you. because you're the only one who gives them a sense of belonging in this community.

pile two

cards: the devil, 6 of pentacles, 8 of pentacles

you are a hustler, through and through. you do your work out of obligation and you grumble every once in a while, but you are a hard worker with a high sense of responsibility. you might be the breadwinner in the family, or you have people you care for back at home who are your number one source of energy. they are what keeps you going and, because of them, you are willing to work your ass off. the exhaustion you feel every time you return from work disappears when you see them smiling at the things you give them, so that's why the universe loves you.

pile three

cards: 2 of cups, queen of pentacles reversed, the emperor reversed

you are a gentle soul, mild-mannered, and tend to be chill at all times, but when someone crosses your boundary, you do not hesitate to humble them down. your way of communicating is straightforward. when you need to communicate your thoughts and feelings, you do not need to sweeten your words or beat around the bush just to appease someone's feelings. regardless of that, people tend to find the way you communicate refreshing. they look to you for a piece of advice. they want you to call them on their bullshit. honestly, we need more people like you in our lives.

pile four

cards: strength reversed, 7 of pentacles, 9 of wands reversed

tenacity might as well be your middle name. you are incredibly strong-willed to the point that people think of you as hardheaded. well, you are hardheaded and you take pride in that. tackling hurdles to hurdles is not a big feat for you because you are brave and you know what you want in life. things that people call obstacles turn out to be challenges for you and you find them interesting to work around. you know your value and you never settle for less. there is nothing that could stop you from getting what you want because you know you deserve it after what you have gone through all this time.

thank you for reading! please leave a like and/or a reblog if you resonate with the messages. you can also leave a tip here so i can keep reading for the community. ❤️

[caligvlasaqvarivm]

hi! i saw on your shipping chart you had meenah and cronus as moirails and noted 'would have prevented all problems' and ive never really seen that take before. id love to hear your thoughts on that if you wanted to talk about them, your analysis in general is always amazing

Sure! I know this one's going to be controversial, but TBH I'm kind of fascinated by their dynamic. So please bear with me here and come into it with an open mind; I was also really surprised when I noticed what was going on.

Also, standard disclaimer that nobody has to agree with me or ship my ships, I literally don't care, HCs are valid, death of the author, etc. etc. This is just a canon discussion blog, and there's kind of a weird amount to read into in the canon between these two.

Okay, so, first of all, quick refresher on moirallegiance: it's not necessarily about being BFFs, it's very specifically about pacifying each other, keeping each other calm and stable, and preventing each other from causing harm to oneself or to others.

Ergo, the marker of moirallegiance rests not on "do these two get along as BFFs?" and instead on "do these two keep each other calm and/or mitigate each others' harm".

So with that out of the way, Cronus and Meenah. We know that Cronus has a redcrush on her, echoing Eridan's redcrush on Feferi, and that Meenah is not interested at all. Cronus shoots his shot with her, she's like ick, no & leaves, and that's that on that. Cronus then rounds on Mituna and says some unbelievably cruel and shitty stuff, but here's Point #1 - Meenah shows up again, and Cronus stops immediately, and then is noticeably calmer and friendlier to Mituna. Compare:

CRONUS: you are a brain damaged reject on a team full of rejects. a rejects reject. i vwould havwe culled you myself if that vword meant vwhat it should havwe on our planet.

-

CRONUS: vwell, this is clearly absurd, but nyeh, vwhat the heck. CRONUS: mituna, i just cant take it anymore. i think my ghost is going to kill itself. MITUNA: WH0W4H L375 FUCK!!!!! CRONUS: vwait... CRONUS: really? MITUNA: N0 0Y0 P135H3 0FF 1ND107 FUGG1NG G4R484G3  #FUCKY0UFUCKY0UFUCKY0UFUCKY0UFUCKY0U CRONUS: oh.

So at the very least, SOMETHING conciliatory seems to be happening here, whether that's pale or ashen. But I'm going with pale, because it continues.

Their second conversation together is really interesting - not only has Cronus stopped redflirting with her, but he no longer even seems interested. Compare this to the section with Mituna above:

CRONUS: oh sure. no grub sauce on your hands! MEENAH: wow you did it MEENAH: ampora you totally changed my mind about you lets start makin out immediately  #not CRONUS: just admit it. you havwe it vwithin you to be just as harsh to our behelmeted buddy as i am, if not more

Like, he doesn't even ACKNOWLEDGE the "let's make out #not". Not even in an indignant "see, you keep playing with my collapsing and expanding bladder based vwascular system" kind of way. Literally just breezes right by it, which says to me that he isn't even really that into her concupiscently.

But more interesting are the actual contents of the conversation. Cronus is the only person on the entire team who's able to make Meenah have misgivings about how awesome the Condy is.

MEENAH: man MEENAH: a girls gotta have fuel for her pimp ride know what im sayin MEENAH: like MEENAH: i probably took care of him good MEENAH: you know how it is someones gotta take care of the guy anyways MEENAH: and... yeah #38(

This is the first and only time that Meenah even acknowledges that the Condy - herself at her worst - is kind of shitty. This is the first and only time she's ever expressed any emotion for the Condy other than fangirlish admiration or rage against Caluborn for enslaving her. For whatever reason, she actually listens to Cronus when Cronus takes her to task, and he's actually able to make her genuinely reflect on her worst tendencies.

But maybe more damning is the fact that in their first real conversation together for nearly an eon, she almost fixes him:

MEENAH: i heard a rumor you think youre a human now MEENAH: that true CRONUS: its a privwate matter. i dont see vwhy i should havwe to talk about it vwith you, and open myself up to more of your judgmental scorn. MEENAH: sounds like another desperate cry for attention imo

[...]

CRONUS: to be honest, she might be right. sometimes i think i might only be saying im a human to get attention. maybe i should givwe it up.

Cronus's fundamental emotional problem is a sense of purposelesness and ennui. Born into a caste of high privilege, with his identity overshadowed by said position, he's been handed an unpleasant cocktail of entitlement, lack of true emotional support or connection, and lack of a real, authentic personal identity - especially because the thing he DID seem to derive a sense of identity and purpose from - his little Harry Potter wizard backstory - was driven out of him. In other words, he's kind of a shitty rich kid that doesn't really know who he is outside of that, and his humankin stuff is an attempt to fill the wizard hole without addressing his real underlying issues. It's a Bad Thing for him to be doing, and something he should drop in order to start addressing his genuine insecurities, feelings of emptiness, and lack of identity or purpose. In other words, it's harm he's performing on himself, and a single conversation with Meenah being enough to make him reconsider it? Hmmmmmm.

In fact, I'm not the only one picking up on the pale vibes. The specific way that Kankri interrupts the two reads as incredibly pick-me in pale:

KANKRI: Listen, I was d9ing y9u a fav9r. Y9u d9n't need t9 6e dating any9ne wh9 can't appreciate y9u f9r wh9 y9u really are, 9r m9re imp9rtantly, which fantasy versi9n 9f y9urself y9u m9st str9ngly identify with.

[...]

I just wanted y9u t9 kn9w that I'm here f9r y9u, and am prepared t9 lecture t9 y9u extensively, I mean, listen t9 y9u extensively, a69ut y9ur ultra-imp9rtant pr96lem.

"Don't take Meenah's advice about your problems! Take mine instead, I care about you sooo much more than she does!" lol. I have a whole essay on how Kankri and Cronus are actually super toxic for each other, in an interesting foil to Karkat and Eridan, which I'll link here in a bit (I'm on mobile RN and it's hard enough C/Ping my sources).

In any case, Kankri slides in at exactly the moment where Meenah's about to fix Cronus, and proceeds to make Cronus worse. The details are in the Cronus and Kankri essay, but TL;DR it's kind of implied that Kankri is the one who talked Cronus out of the wizard stuff in the first place, which pretty much disqualifies the two's relationship from pale, given how harmful that was. This whole thing is pretty reminiscent of Gamzee coming between Karkat and Eridan when Eridan is trying to comfort Karkat about Sollux dying, because it's implied Gamzee has a palecrush on the guy. That might be subjective, though.

What isn't subjective is the fact that Meenah unironically defends Cronus's wizard beliefs when Aranea starts shitting on them.

ARANEA: Whatever the case, it was pro8a8ly for the 8est, since pretty much everyone who had half a think pan thought [Cronus's wizard beliefs were] all a 8unch of ridiculous nonsense. MEENAH: serket why do you got to hate on other peoples religions MEENAH: dont you kno they just as much a load of crackpotty bunk as all your spiritual bullfuck ARANEA: 8ut I........ ARANEA: Yes, I guess I was out of line.

She doesn't do this for anybody else. Not long after, it turns out she's absolutely joking about defending Kurloz:

MEENAH: wow serket MEENAH: just wow so rude MEENAH: poor clown ARANEA: Don't give me that! I seem to remem8er you having more than a few unkind words for him 8ehind his 8ack. MEENAH: yeah im messin witchu he sux

And even proceeds to shit on HIS spiritual bullfuck:

MEENAH: )(ONK ARANEA: Honk honk! ::::) MEENAH: lol im glad we can both agree that clowny fuckin soda cult is the dumbest shit ever

So... weird, huh? Seems like she gives Cronus special treatment for some reason.

That's it for the diegetic stuff to go over, which, yes, means that there's a bit of non-diegetic stuff to discuss. It's not much, but here's Hussie's commentary from the Act 5 Act 2 book, on Mindfang's journal entries about Dualscar leading up to the 3x showdown (emphasis mine):

In the end, even though violets are the ruling class, she doesn't care much about them either. All she cares about is keeping her stranglehold on power with this complex, staggered, oppression-based sort of pyramid scheme. Note how it says the Condesce doesn't even know who Dualscar is. That's how insignificant he is, ultimately. Similarly, all Eridan was to Feferi after a while was a tiresome pest. The way that situation played out could also be seen as long-delayed karmic backlash for Dualscar's irrelevance to her, at least from a very Amporan point of view.

Now, while the specific context here is about how, from the point of view of a shitty entitled guy, Eridan killing Feferi is kind of a retribution for the Condy not giving a shit about Dualscar, all of Hussie's commentary is meant to be interrogated just as much as the base text, and it just makes me wonder. The dancestors very much treat their Alternian counterparts as alternate versions of themselves, consistent throughout their interactions, meaning we ought to consider Duascar and the Condesce to be versions of Cronus and Meenah.

If it is, in fact, the case that Cronus and Meenah would've made for excellent, harm-reducing moirails for each other, then murderstuck being a karmic backlash for their ultimate irrelevance to each other takes on a much greater implication - one that traces back to Cronus's classpect.

Bards start off massive karmic chain reactions, resulting in improbable victory or abject defeat, sometimes both; Hope is an aspect whose main application is making fake things real.

So I'm not saying that Cronus believing that an evil wizard attacked him when he was younger but was inadvertently sealed away and that Cronus was therefore karmically destined to defeat this wizard, but then having his beliefs shattered halfway through, led to him karmically contributing to the eventual creation of LE via his Hope abilities "inviting destruction" by making only the first half of his fake prophecy true, but - oh, no, wait, I am saying that. Man, that really sucks for everybody. If only Cronus had a friend who was, for whatever reason, willing to stick up for his dumbass wizard faith.

If only.

[deceitfuldevout]

A Woman Like You

Tommy Shelby x WOC!Reader

Word Count: +1,215

Warning(s): Angst, Sexist remarks, Societal pressure, Sterotypes.

Author's note(s): I've recently been using writing as a form of therapy. This goes to all the ladies that can relate.

You've fallen head over heels for Tommy Shelby, but now you're questioning if his intentions were sincere or not.

GIF by nofckingfighting

You made the mistake of falling in love. You should've seen the signs sooner. You started working at the Garrison as a bar maid with Grace, eventually moving up to being their sole entertainment. You were an exotic bird who had caught to wandering eyes of drunken Englishmen. Some folks would say you had these men in a trance, with your rare features and seductive mannerisms. Some even say you're a witch. But there was only one person who saw you for you. Tommy Shelby.

It was refreshing, being seen as a soft, delicate thing. His demeanor would shift when talking to you. He's much kinder to you that with any of his men. That was until another, prettier face had caught his eye. You of all people knew the truth: Tommy Shelby would never love you. Instead he'd fallen for your coworker Grace. She's everything you weren't. That may have been the reason why. Of course, you should've seen the signs. How he'd look at her with such tenderness.

Eventually his entire personality completely changed with you. Perhaps they were his true colors. After her death, things went south. Tommy returned to you, but only for physical intimacy. He was rough, unapologetic, and at time, downright cruel. He hadn't spoke to you like a lady, with basic respect. It almost hurt knowing men will never speak to you with kind remarks. As soon as you found a better option, you let him know right away. When you close the pub for the last time, Tommy was there. It was strange, having an Englishman waste his previous time on foreign blood.

You turn around to find Tommy sitting on a barstool, not paying him mind. Then something strange happened. He isn't usually this tender, not even in private. So why on earth was he telling you to stay? After every humiliating thing he'd put you through. How Tommy would shimmy you off his arm in front of his business associates. It only got worse when he'd flirt with women right in front of you, then ask for a fuck because it was convenient. Perhaps it was the liquid courage, maybe even the hormones that made you tear up with anger. But for some reason, you wanted to let him know he hurt you, "Enough, Tom, you need to stop doing this,"

He tilts his head up, genuinely surprised that you'd spoken up. His eyelids are hooded, "If you've got something to say..." he lights up a cigarette, "...say it now," how predictable. Tommy's cruelty had no limits. You were tired of being his little plaything, "I deserve better than this, better than you," letting him know how you truly felt, "You're fucking selfish, you know that?" tears already streaming down both cheeks, "You could've told me you were seeing other women, Tom," your vision blurs. Tommy objected, "You knew who I was when you met me--"

"Yeah, yeah I thought I did, until you decided to to make an acceptation with that blonde whore!" you knew what it would take to get his blood boiling. You wanted to hurt him the same way he hurt you, "I've wasted most of my life waiting for you to love me back, I wasted my good years on a man who wouldn't care if I bled out on the floor!" voice now shaking. You were filled with regret, pain, and anger.

He doesn't even know what the weight of his words did to you, "I know how you English men see women like us, we're always sexually desired but never loved, enough for a good fuck but not enough to make a wife," a chuckle escapes your tips at the thought of it. How could he marry someone like you? His name and status that he's worked so hard for would be tainted. Because who could ever love a woman like you? He had the audacity to roll his eyes, "You were entertainment, to bring customers in," someone pretty enough to keep company around.

"Everything, Tom, everything I've been doing, the act, because I am not allowed the luxury of being seen as innocent," after pouring your heart out, he still hadn't believed you, "Don't act like you haven't been seeing other men," he scoffs. You started to laugh at that remark. Had he really been that clueless? Tears stream down both cheeks. You wipe at them, smearing your mascara, "Now that's incredible," a deep grunt is trapped in the back of your throat, "You really think I'm a whore, don't you?" in an almost hushed tone, "Tommy, you were my first and only, do you really not believe me?" nothing felt worse than being betrayed by the one you trust the most, "All I ever wanted was for you to love me," since the beginning you were there. Even when he was mourning Grace you were there to keep him comfort. How foolish of you.

"Now you never told me--"

"I know who you pretend I am, who you want me to be," you roll your eyes, sniffling for a moment, "I'm not like you Tom, I can't pass, I can't change the color of my skin or features-- I will never be the white woman you've always wanted me to be, the kind of woman you'd keep on your arm without feeling embarrassed, why can't you just accept that?" a faint pause, "You told me...you told me she wasn't your type," barely a whisper, "Was everything a lie?" when he doesn't say anything, it was the only answer you needed. At that moment you snapped, "Please! Look at me!" you smack his arm, "Tommy!" when he does you're given only a cold stare.

Of course, it was never going to be someone like you. There are tears brimming your eyes again. It hurts, knowing that you will always be second best. Always an option but never the first, "At first I was confused, your infatuation with Grace didn't make sense, and now I see that it never mattered who she was," your breath hitches for a moment, "You were always going to choose someone like her..." now rambling about the obvious, "Prettier, blonder...whiter," you taunt.

Each word felt like venom on your tongue. You should've been used to the poison by now, "You don't know how long it took for me to trust a man again, after the pain I've been through--women like me, Tom, we don't have pretty blue eyes that get us what we want, not without a price," that remark made your skin crawl, "Always the seductress, never seen as pure," a dark chuckle erupts, taking up all sound from the bar. Tommy only stares back at you, with that same cold expression. You lean against the counter, looking down at the wood before returning to glance at him, "Did you ever love me?"

If there's one thing about Tommy, is that he would never lie to you, "No," a short, simple answer. You give him a soft, faint smile. Saddened by the loss but also relieved that you were free at last, "Thank you," with that you left, never returning to the Garrison again.

[starryriize]

kissed by the moonlight | sohee

— ✧ • ˳೫˚ part of my valentine event!

೫ pairing: bff! sohee and bff! reader (friends to lovers)

೫ summary: after your exams, you go to the pool with your best friend to relax, unaware that he's been holding back his feelings ever since he met you

೫ genre/word count: fluffy!! suggestive towards the end, but mainly romantic!! 847 words!!

೫ author's note: i am SO SO sorry this is late :(( university is kicking my ass right now and i underestimated my procrastination skills BUT in return, i give you sohee 🫶🏼 this is semi-proofread btw (edit: i added more suggestive things bc i felt it didn’t meet the initial level of suggestiveness)

“Okay. I have the candles. The snacks…” Sohee mumbled to himself, pacing back and forth as the night got darker. He’d planned his date, well no, confession weeks ago after Seunghan encouraged him to stop being so worried and just confess. What’s the worst that could happen, he thought to himself. He’d bought all your favorite snacks and chocolates that he knows you like. The candles were a last-minute addition because the snacks didn’t look romantic enough. 

Just as Sohee adjusted a candle to not cause a fire hazard, he heard your soft giggles. You were saying bye to your friends, opening the door to the secluded pool. He whips his head up, eyes widening as he sees you walk toward him. Every word that he wanted to say got stuck in his throat, only managed to mutter a small hello. 

“What’s up, Sohee?” Oh. Your voice was like an addictive melody that he could listen to for hours and never get bored of. The way the moonlight gave you a soft glow made him believe you were heaven-sent. 

Sohee took a seat at the edge of the pool as he admired you, his best friend. He thought back to when he first met you, remembering how kind you looked and how he was nervous to approach you. It all began with you saying hi, which turned into asking about each other’s day, and into knowing each other like the back of your hand. 

“Uh..well. Uhm. I…” He trails off, struggling to find the words, losing all his confidence when he rehearsed this in his bathroom mirror. “I brought you some snacks.” His eyes flick toward the snack plate filled with mint chocolate Oreos, slices of honeydew, peaches, and rye chips. You look at him, curious as to why he had a plate with all your favorite snacks. “Sohee…why do you have all my favorite snacks memorized?” He blushes, his hand scratching the back of his neck. Turning away from you, fearing that if he stared at you a minute longer, he’ll make a mistake. 

“Uh…becauseIlikeyou.” He says quickly, ears turning red from embarrassment. Oh, if his friends saw him now, they’d be teasing him to no end. His mind ran with thoughts, wondering if you found him weird that he knows what you like. “Ah. Thank you.” You smile softly as you pick up an oreo, taking a bite. Mid chew, you finally process what he told you. “Wait. Sohee. Did you say that you like me?” You finish chewing, turning to look at him. 

“Yeah,” he paused, looking off into the distance, admiring how beautiful the city looked at night. He was avoiding the topic of how he likes you or, rather, admitting when he started to like you. However, that didn’t matter to you. You found it cute, and little did he know, he gave you butterflies everytime he smiled at you. 

For a few minutes, the night air spoke words that neither of you could find. There was a comfortable silence as you took a peach, popping it into your mouth. He quietly took a honeydew, sighing happily at the refreshing taste. 

“The moon…it’s really…” Sohee trailed off, unable to find words to accurately describe the moon and how it gave you an almost angelic glow. His voice cut through the quiet air, the only sound that could be heard was the crickets and the soft lapping of the water. The pool date was the last thing on his mind. He couldn’t stop staring at your lips and how the gloss emphasized how plush and soft they were. He watches your lips part as you reply, “Breathtaking. I know.” God, I want to kiss her so badly. He thought to himself. Licking his own lips, his eyes catch yours, but there was something different. As you looked into Sohee’s eyes, you saw a hint of…desire, or maybe it was the moonlight playing tricks on your thoughts. 

“Sohee…” you manage to whisper out, the snack tray forgotten as he leans in closer. His hand finds the edge of your lips, bringing his thumb to wipe off the Oreo crumbs. Smirking, he teases, “You had a bit of crumbs on your lips.” Where…where did the shy Sohee go? You wonder to yourself. Your mind goes hazy at the feeling of his fingers against your lips, your heartbeat racing at how close he was to you. Milimeters. That’s how close he was. He closes the distance between the two of you, all the words unspoken in a single kiss. It was gentle, yet filled with desire as though you were the oxygen he relied on. The way his lips perfectly moved against yours drove you crazy., his tongue slipping into your mouth, causing you to gasp and pull away. Barely a second of catching your breath, he chased after your lips, capturing them once more. He sighed into your lips, getting addicted to the taste of your strawberry lip gloss. You’re so caught up in the moment, getting drunk on the way Sohee kissed you, that you didn’t realize his hand had left your waist.

The warmth of his hand rested on your thigh, a perfectly innocent gesture. But the way he was lightly bringing his hands to your the edge of your bikini, drove you insane. Whatever the outcome of his wandering hands, you needed him. Sohee looks up at you with dazed eyes, a small grin as he asks softly, “May I?” You nod, a quiet yes escaping your mouth. The night air was the witness to your breathless sighs as he pulled aside your bikini, smiling as he teased you for being so wet even though you didn’t go in the pool.

Safe to say, you spent longer than you intended by the poolside under the moonlight.

[bingwriterxo]

five more minutes

pairing: sam carpenter x reader

summary: in which sam just wants five more minutes together

warnings: probably OOC sam

word count: 1170+

author's note: this was a request! and this is my first time writing for sam, so i don't really have her personality down. also, got carried away with the dream sequence LMAO

You’re alone in a field, the sun beginning to set in front of you and painting the sky various hues of pink, orange, red, purple. Birds are chirping in the trees that frame the grassy terrain, a smooth, somehow familiar tune falling out of their beaks and into your ears. There’s a light breeze painting over your skin, refreshing you from the otherwise humid air. As you stand there, all you can think is, Sam would love this place.

And then, suddenly, she’s beside you. 

“It’s beautiful, huh?” she asks, her arm brushing against yours. “So peaceful.”

“Yeah,” you agree, not bothering to question how she had appeared and instead reveling in the fact that she was there. “It really is.”

Sam takes a few steps forward and then glances over her shoulder, holding a hand out for you to take. “Come on.”

You don’t hesitate as you intertwine your fingers with her own. “Where are we going?”

“I have a surprise for you,” she says, grinning from ear to ear. Her eyes are shining with pure joy, so who are you to refuse?

“Okay.”

She leads you through the field with slow, lazy steps, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen her so content in her life. Here, in a place where she knows there are no threats, where she can relax and relieve herself of her anxieties. For the first time, her shoulders aren’t tense, and she’s not squeezing your hand like she’ll have to drag you along in a high-speed chase at any point. 

The two of you travel farther into the field, and you see no end point, but you don’t raise any questions. You simply follow her, enjoying her hand in yours and the ease that she’s at. 

Suddenly, she stops, and you have to dig your heels into the dirt below you to stop yourself from running into her back. You peek around her shoulder yet see nothing, and you furrow your eyebrows. 

“Sam, what—”

Before you can finish your question, she’s spinning around, her hand still in yours, and kneeling down on one knee. You gasp, realizing quickly what’s happening, and your eyes widen. Your heart is fluttering, and you think your legs might be shaking, but you can’t really feel them. 

“Y/N,” she begins softly, “I know we got off to a rocky start.” You giggle, thinking about the first time the two of you had met, in which Sam nearly tased you when you tapped on her shoulder to return her wallet that she had dropped. “But the journey that we’ve been on since then has been the most wonderful years of my life, and I’ve never trusted anyone in the way that I know I can trust you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, if you’ll let me.”

She reaches behind her with her freehand, digging into her back pocket, and returns with a ring box. You briefly wonder how you hadn’t seen it early but almost immediately dismiss the thought as she pops the box open, revealing a beautiful ring within. 

“Y/N, will you marry me?”

“Ye—”

A loud, incessant beeping woke you from your dream, and you groaned. Without even opening your eyes, you reached out for your phone, bringing it close to your face. You cracked one eye open, ready to turn off the alarm, but you were met with a blank screen, which meant only one thing. 

It was Sam’s alarm. 

You turned over and were met with the sleeping brunette, her hair mused and breathing still even. For a moment, you simply looked at her, taking in her beauty, but then the alarm seemingly got louder, and you knew that you had to wake her. You reached over her body, careful not to jostle her too much, and turned the alarm off before returning to your original position. 

“Sam,” you whispered, placing a hand on her cheek. You were always careful when tasked with raising the woman from sleep because you knew how high-strung her body ran, even if she didn’t mean for it to. The first time you had to wake her up, she had tackled you to the ground, strong even though she was barely awake, and then proceeded to apologize profusely. 

You tried again when your first murmurings didn’t work. “Sam, baby.” You rubbed your thumb along her skin, ran it over the bridge of her nose. Your gentle touches seemed to work as Sam’s eyes fluttered open, dark brown peeking out from beneath her lashes. 

Her immediate reaction, as per usual, was offering you a small smile. “Morning, pretty girl,” she said, lifting a hand to pick up your own. She brought yours to her lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “Any good dreams?” she asked, in the same way she did every morning. 

You hummed, thinking about what had occurred just before you were woken up. “They were amazing.”

She rubbed her thumb along the skin of your hand, squeezed it slightly. “Good.” Her eyes started to close again; she was clearly extremely tired, which you already assumed because Sam always woke to the first ring of her alarm. 

“Your alarm went off, baby,” you said. “You have to wake up for work.”

Sam grumbled softly. “I’d rather stay right here.” To emphasize her point, she reached out, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into her. She rested her chin atop your head and intertwined her legs with yours. Warmth was radiating off of her, and you were tempted to fall back asleep. 

“Baby,” you mumbled into her chest. You slipped a hand beneath her t-shirt, fingers running along the skin over her ribs. “You have to get up.”

“How am I supposed to get out of this bed when you’re cuddling into me like this? It’s not fair,” she murmured. She tightened her hold on you and you felt more than heard as she let out a content sigh. “What if I just called out sick?”

You laughed into her. “You know you can’t.”

If you looked up, you were almost positive she would be frowning, her eyebrows knitted together in disappointment. “I know,” she groaned, “but let me have five more minutes. Please?”

“Okay,” you agreed, nuzzling further into her. Your hand slipped from her side to her back, tracing over her spine lightly until you reached the nape of her neck, where you lightly played with her hair. “Five more minutes.”

bonus: when you woke up again, you were still pressed against sam’s front. you sighed happily and tried to bury yourself deeper into her touch before thinking, wait, sam?

you sat up, hand flying toward your phone. you picked it up, turned it on, and your eyes widened at the time: 10:56AM.

“oh, fuck,” you said. you glanced at the woman still sleeping and shrugged. well, she’s clearly not gonna go in anyway, you thought as you slipped into her hold again. might as well let her sleep.