#before he clams up and makes a stupid joke

[diddybok]

asking best friend!stray kids what you are pt.2

all characters depicted in my writing are from my own imagination and do NOT in any way represent nor reflect the people in real life :)

➩pairing: ot8 x gn!reader

➩genre(s): angst, some fluff

➩warnings: strong language, mentions of sex, some of the boys are still mean, some unhappy endings

➩wc: 9.4k (9433)

➩author’s note: i am so serious if anybody talks to you in a way to undermine, condescend or just simply belittle you and make you feel stupid, pls pls pls cut that person out of your life. even if they’re doing it as a ‘joke’. it never ends well. ily all and you deserve the best of the best, always <3

➩parts: part one

chris | 1.2k (1201) words

After the fourth ring, you swipe the little phone symbol across your screen and the time starts. You watch it go from one second, to the next, and the next, before a deep elongated sigh pulls you out of your trance. 

You put him on speaker, afraid of the way you’d react if you were to hear him so close to you in your ear. You can’t handle that right now. 

“Y/n?” His slightly distorted voice says. You don’t reply, placing the phone down in front of you as you sit and fiddle with the rings on your fingers. 

“Come on sweetheart, say something please. What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” Chris asks softly. Akin to a parent who would try and get their child to confess to stealing cookies out of the cookie jar. 

You run your hands down your face. You’re annoyed with him, most definitely. But you can’t deny the butterflies that start to flutter in your stomach when he addresses you like that. 

It’s not fair. 

The line is painfully silent for another two minutes. Chris patiently, or rather stubbornly, waiting for you to speak. 

“This…this is harder than I thought it’d be.” You say, your voice croaking slightly as this is the first time you have spoken in a while. 

“Okay. Try not to think too much about it. Just speak your truth, unload it all.” Chris encourages. 

You take a deep breath and run your hands up and down your thighs to stop them from clamming up. 

“You hurt my feelings. You are continuing to hurt my feelings. I feel as if I’m the only one who is missing out on an inside joke that everybody seems to know but me.” You halt, waiting to see if he would have a rebuttal. Except he doesn’t and his silence spurs you on to continue. 

“I thought we were practically dating. I thought that night would be the night that you would ask to be together as a couple. You know, exclusive?” You chuckle bitterly. “So imagine my surprise when you decide to ignore me for a week. Do you know how shitty that felt?” You ask him. 

You can just about hear his breaths. They’re soft and collected. Yet the more you wait for his response that he doesn’t seem to be giving, you are becoming the opposite of that. 

“I asked you a question.” You say curtly. 

“I can see how that would make you feel shitty, yes. For that I am sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, but I felt like I fucked everything up for us.” You think he sounded genuine enough when he said that, so you elect yourself to be quiet so he can continue. 

“I should’ve stopped it. Doing it knowing I wasn’t ready for it to happen—like that anyway—was not fair on you. I wouldn’t say that it has complicated things per say, but it has led me to think about a few things.” Chris finishes. 

You sit there, the flaps of the butterfly wings now causing the bile to travel upwards and out. You reach over and grab your water bottle from your bedside table and chug as much as you can. 

“Think about things like what?” You will yourself to say, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand at the water that managed to escape and drip down your chin. 

He doesn’t reply which does not settle your nerves. Especially not after that last sentence he said. Silence is not your friend at this moment. 

“Chris—”

“I think that we should be together.” He practically vomits out. 

Your eyes widen and your eyebrows shoot up to the top of your skull. 

“What!”

“Y/n?”

You both speak at the same time. 

“Oh sorry you go ahead.”

“Sorry, you first.”

You hear a small chuckle over the line as you speak over each other again. He stays silent this time, letting you talk. 

“Are you serious? Like you really mean that? You aren’t playing me for a fool right?” You ask quickly. 

“Yes. Yes. No,” You release a silent scream. “I really do want us. I have always wanted us, but this—you—made me realise that we should’ve made it official a while ago. There were only so many more excuses I could pull out of the bag to mask me taking you out on dates as just ‘best friends hanging out doing questionable things’.” 

Of course, you knew this as you are smart. The excuse he gave when he took you to a rooftop restaurant with candlelights everywhere was certainly not ‘for practice when I get a partner’. Him having your favourite meal prepared and the playlist the two of you made playing in the background? Dead giveaway. 

“Plus it is also totally unrealistic that you as my best friend would splash that much cash on me unless it was because you lost a bet. So I had a feeling I knew something was up. Which I guess is why I got a bit too excited and jumped to the conclusion that we were already a couple.” You say scratching the back of your neck. 

“Not true! I would always buy you things.” Chris corrects. 

“Yeah but you’d always complain whilst doing so. So when you stopped complaining, something had clearly shifted.” You clarify. 

You can envision the eye roll he does paired with the sigh he releases making you laugh. 

There’s another silence that fills the space, albeit this time it is comfortable. Until he sneezes down the line and you catch yourself smiling warmly as you bless him. 

“What happens now? Do we get a level up on our relationship or something? Or do I magically spawn in your arms and you cuddle me until I fall asleep? I’m thinking that sounds like the correct thing to happen next.” He teases. 

“Of course that’s what you think.” 

“Hey, I don’t make the rules, I just work here.” He says in a seductive drawl. 

“You’re still very much in the dog house. Honestly, I feel it’s only fair for me to leave you waiting a week to even see me.” You speak without a hint of sarcasm. 

It goes quiet over the phone again. You look down at your rings, twisting them around your finger gently. 

“Okay…I guess that’s fair.” He finally responds. 

You release a breath you weren't aware you were holding, nodding to yourself in agreement. 

“You’re one hundred percent certain you want this? Want to be together past just best friends?” You clarify. 

“What do you not trust me already? Y/n I want to be with you. I have wanted to be with you. Our communication just wasn’t great. But we will work on it together. Okay?” Chris speaks gently down the phone. 

“Okay.” You say softly. 

Though it will take a day or two for you to get over the fact he didn’t message you for a week, you feel as though a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. 

Whatever the next step of your relationship with Chris is, you’re just relieved that you get to do it together with no more misunderstandings. 

minho | 1.0k (1032) words

You and Minho decided that it would be best for you to discuss your relationship over lunch. He even offered to pay which you certainly were not going to turn down. 

You have been hyping yourself up in front of the mirror for about twenty minutes since Minho said he was en route. If Minho texting you earlier was any indication of how this conversation will go, then you are sure you aren’t silly for practising breathing techniques and how to not make a fool of yourself on a whole. 

You’re getting your jacket when you hear his knock at the door. You know it’s him because he only ever knocks in a pattern. 

Opening the door, you’re glad to see him greet you with a smile on your face. Though that’s how it has always been in your relationship. Even when you fight, you always know to resolve the issue with a smile and to never yell at each other. 

Even though you could tell he was anxious, he was masking it well. Throughout the drive, playing your favourite songs. Even now in the café ordering you your favourite meal when he caught you scanning the menu acting like you didn’t know what you wanted already. 

Safe to say, the both of you calm each other down, which makes this conversation much easier to have. 

“So, let's address the elephant in the room.” You start, taking a sip of your milkshake. 

“I first want to say that whatever we choose to do from this point on, you are not allowed to leave me. Well, you can’t anyways because I am always going to be in your life.” He says with an unwavering smile on his face. 

You hold back your smile and nod, letting him carry on. 

“No I do mean it. I just think that we’d be better off just being…us. You know what I mean?” He says using his hands to emphasise.  

“Mmm, let’s dig a little deeper. I just don’t want there to be any misunderstandings between us. Obviously what we shared was nice and I don’t think that we should regret it, right?” You say with a tilt of your head. 

“I agree. I had a think about it whilst I drove to your house to pick you up and I don’t think it was fair of me to question what we did. In terms of making you think that I felt that it wasn’t right of us to do.” Minho explains. He looks around before leaning in slightly. “Especially since that was the best sex I have had in months.” He throws a wink your way and you have to stop yourself from taking a bow. 

Him saying that feels as though numerous weights have been lifted off of your shoulders. You were most anxious about whether he either hated it or thought it was a mistake. So you’re now glad to hear that neither of it was the case. 

The waiter comes over with your food and you thank them. You’re about to pick up your fork and take a bite of food to fuel your courage but you’re abruptly tutted at. 

“Just because we are in the midst of an important conversation does not mean we skip tradition.” Minho says, raising his eyebrow at you. 

You place the fork down and put up a peace sign as you pose. He takes out his camera and snaps a photo of you with both his and your meal in the frame. He then puts his middle finger up and poses with an over exaggerated bored expression. You chuckle to yourself before taking the photo. 

“You said that we moved too fast assuming that we were moving in the first place. Do you still think that now?” You say before taking a bite of your meal. 

He finishes his mouthful as he furrows his eyebrows and thinks about your question. 

“Well I mean, I’d be an idiot to say that I didn’t think that it wouldn’t be going anywhere. But for us right now, I don’t think we should be moving at all.” He speaks. 

The food you are swallowing seems to get a little stuck as you start to quietly choke. All the while Minho grows increasingly embarrassed at your lack of ability to stay alive. 

“Okay calm, people are starting to look over.” He says to you, pouring you a glass of water from the jug on the table. 

You take a few gulps and tap your chest.

“Damn. You shouldn’t say things like that when I’m mid chew.” You scold. 

“My apologies, from now on I shall wait until the food has made its descent to the pit of acid in your stomach.” He lightly chuckles. 

“So what I’m hearing is that all things considered romantically, we should stop. So we just continue on as friends?” You clarify. 

He nods. 

“Hit the nail on the head.”

“Right…I mean I guess that works. After all, we were friends before we got curious so I’m pretty sure we can just laugh about it and carry on.” You smile albeit quite painfully. 

“Yes of course! We were just curious…” Minho adds, a painful smile also etched onto his features. 

Can you just laugh about it and carry on? Even when it felt so natural? So…right?

There’s a silence pregnant with awkwardness as you and Minho avoid each other’s gazes and continue to eat. 

Akin to a supporting artist having a cue to interact with the leads of a movie, the waiter comes over to ask if everything was alright with the food. 

You both bombard him with praise and he seems a little taken aback and hurries away to the next table. 

You don’t lie to Minho often, much like he doesn’t lie to you. However, in this café it seems the two of you are egregious liars. Which explains the way you both see right through each other. 

You know that it’s only a matter of time until something happens again because unfortunately you have crossed the line. Let’s just hope you can go at least a month before you’re entangled in each other's arms again. 

changbin | 1.1k (1120) words

One, two, three knocks on your door. You approach it slowly, looking through the peephole to see Changbin standing in his big puffer jacket and gloves. 

You consider letting him stay in the cold a little longer, but the goodness in your heart wills your hand to open the door. 

“Come in quickly, it’s cold.” You order. 

He doesn’t dally with his movements, coming inside quickly as you shut the door behind him. It’s quiet as he takes off his shoes and coat, giving you a mildly awkward smile that was still dulcet. 

“I was just making breakfast, would you like some?” You offer, walking into the kitchen. 

“Oh, yes please that’d be nice thank you.” He says, following after you. 

The atmosphere feels a little strange and you aren’t used to it. Changbin hasn’t yelled at all since stepping foot inside and usually you would’ve threatened the duct tape on his mouth by now. 

You engage in some aimless chit chat with him whilst you cook. You figured you would ease into this conversation rather than just immediately diving head first. 

“I like what you’ve done with the place.” Changbin admires as he looks around your kitchen. 

You turn to him, bewildered. 

“I haven’t changed my kitchen since I moved in here, bin.” You establish. 

“Really? Oh. I thought there was something different about this place in the week and a bit that I have been gone.” He says with genuinity. 

“Why would I have changed my kitchen around in the week that you’ve been gone?” You ask. 

He shrugs, stealing a blueberry from the bowl when your back is turned from him. 

“I don’t know. Some people dye or cut their hair when they’re upset. I figured since you like your hair too much, you would’ve changed the next best thing.” He solidifies, feeling much too content with the way his brain works. 

You on the other hand aren’t sure whether you’re being tested or if this is truly how he is choosing to behave.

You plate up the food and as you’re about to slide his plate over to him, you pull it back. 

“For every question answered, you get a mouthful of food.” At this, Changbin gawks. 

“This seems illegal in some form or another.” He sulks. 

You open up your phone to your conversation with him. 

“So it says here that you didn’t want to mess up our friendship, but emotions were running high and we weren’t thinking about the consequences. What consequences would that be?” You state. 

He looks at you quizzically. 

“Why do I feel like I’m in court right now? You’re reading the text messages out like evidence and I’m scared.” He says laughing awkwardly. 

“You answer the question. You get to eat.” You redirect. He clears his throat before he begins. 

“Well the consequences would be, erm, how us sleeping together will create ripples in our friendship whether we like it or not. I mean I’m not saying I regret it fully…but maybe a tiny bit?” He says fiddling with his hands. 

He opens his mouth wide as he awaits your end of the deal. You pick up the fork and scoop up some food before you feed it to him. 

For people who aren’t a couple, you sure do act like it. 

“Why is that?” You press further. 

“Because I didn’t want something like this to happen. By that I mean, if we were going to go all the way, then we should have established what we were prior. Even though our friends may think we are a couple, it wasn’t exclusively spoken about between us.” A beat. “But now I think that by letting ourselves get carried away, we missed the opportunity to settle things out with both of us clear on where we stand in our relationship.” He finishes. 

You decide to give him two mouthfuls for that answer to which he hums happily in response. 

You cannot doubt that what he said makes sense. You should have spoken about what you guys were before engaging in something as intimate as sleeping with each other. 

Yet for two people who have already gone to second base countless times before and couldn’t control the libido this time, you also understand where things got messy. 

“I think I get where you’re coming from now.” You say, eating your own mouthful. 

Changbin nods in acknowledgment before stealing a handful of blueberries. 

“But you also said that you still wanna be my best friend. Is that still true? Do you think we can get past this?” You ask apprehensively. 

Changbin’s eyebrows furrow in disbelief. 

“Of course! To both of your questions. Look at us, we’ve lasted this long. Yeah so I’ve been inside you, that’s fine! At least we had a good time, right? We can say that we’ve done it and gotten it out of our system.” He exclaims. 

You pull a face at the last sentence and he is immediately scrambling to reword what he means. 

“No, I don't see it as a throwaway act! I meant that because we had been stopping at second base because we were too scared to take it all the way, we finally reached the goal.” He stammers. 

You raise an eyebrow and cross your arms. 

“No I don’t mean that sleeping with you was the goal, if anything it was off the pitch.” He tries to explain. 

A single tilt of your head was all that was needed in order for him to slam his head into his hands and mutter a ‘I give up’. 

You shake your head and slide the plate over to him as you move across the island to sit on the stall next to him. You place an arm around his shoulder as he sighs. 

“I don’t want to lose you as my best friend too, bin. Let’s just take it one day at a time, yeah? What happened, happened. Now we both know where we stand about our friendship, it’s okay.”

He lifts his head from his palms and looks over you with his big black eyes. 

“You mean that? Like actually? We’re good?” He asks. You laugh slightly. 

“Yes bin, we’re good.” You reassured him. 

“Oh thank God. Does that mean I can still call you my sweet—”

“One day at a time.” You say sternly. 

The both of you smile as you finish the rest of your breakfast. There’s a twinge of hurt that you feel for you and Changbin not going forward as a couple, but you would rather this than to lose him forever. 

So for now, you’ll cherish what an amazing friendship the two of you have and will continue to have. 

hyunjin | 1.1k (1113) words

“Y/n open the fucking door.” You mimic Hyunjin’s last text message to you aloud as you walk down the stairs. 

You were by no means rushing to get to the door, if anything, you think that standing right by it for a good two minutes or so to really irritate him would make you feel much better than you currently do. 

Hyunjin continuously banging on the door pulls you out of your stubborn demeanour. If not for your neighbours, you’d have let him continue to bang against the door until his knuckles bruised. 

Yet it seems your night couldn’t get any worse considering you’ve just taken a fist to the face. Perhaps that was your fault for catching him off guard when he was vigorously knocking as he appeared to have ‘knocked’ your face instead of the door. 

“Oh fuck! Y/n!” Hyunjin yells as he cradles your face in his hands. You appreciate the gesture, you do, he was still your best friend after all. But if this wasn’t the cherry on top of the cake then you don’t know what is. 

“Yep, good to see you too hyune.” You groan. 

You scrunch your face as your hand moves to soothe your forehead. Shrugging out of his hold, you step inside of your home, trusting that he would follow suit and shut the door behind him. 

“Y/n darling I am so sorry. I promise I didn’t mean to knock against…your forehead.” He speaks with utmost genuinity as he shadows behind you. 

You don’t say anything as you just grab yourself some frozen peas wrapped in a tea towel before moving to your living room to make yourself comfortable on the sofa as you wait for him to explain everything. 

You’re thankful that he seems to be getting the hints tonight. He takes his place beside you, worry etched onto his beautiful face. 

Damn his prince-like features…

“Explain yourself then, since texting wasn’t working for you.” You spit. He bites his lip nervously and fidgets with his hands before his eyes look from the bag of peas until falling onto your own. 

“When…when I said I didn’t want you as my best friend, I meant because we can’t just go back to being best friends after that. It would just kill me knowing that you aren’t mine even after the night we shared.”  He starts. 

You sit still and listen, switching hands since the frozen peas were adding to the chill you already had from the conversation that loomed over your head. 

“I don’t want you as my best friend because I want you to be mine. I want to be yours. I want us.  Together.”

You wince. There’s a small part of you that just doesn’t believe him. You place down the now damp tea towel that holds the slowly melting peas. 

He looks at you, trying to read your reaction, but you were giving nothing away. 

“I just wanna know what was going through your head all those nights we spent together. We may not have had sex, but we did everything else. The cuddles, the kisses—when you familiarise yourself with every inch of my body—it would make sense that I thought we were something more than just best friends.”

He breaks eye contact, his interest now on the rings he adorns on his fingers. You can tell he is trying to think of something to say, so you wait patiently. 

“I understand if you feel like I may have been using you.” He acquiesces in meeting your gaze, but he persists. “It hadn’t really occurred to me that you may have thought of us as more than best friends. Granted, instead of sitting in my uncertainty I should have just asked you. Then that night happened and it hit me. Afterwards, I just knew that I shouldn’t have let it get that far.”

You feel nauseous. You can’t decipher exactly what that was supposed to mean. You look over at the now wet kitchen towel. 

“So you do regret it?” You pressed, your voice soft. 

He holds his hands out and shakes his head as he quickly refutes his words. 

“No of course not! I just meant that I know I should have asked you about us before that happened. I didn’t want it to be the case that you felt that I was not serious about us. ‘Cause having sex with someone is serious and I never wanted you to think I was playing around with your feelings.” He finishes. 

You sit there thinking about what he said. Maybe he was being sincere. Maybe he really does want what you thought the two of you had for the past couple of months. 

“How can I know that you aren’t just saying this? That you feel somewhat obligated to make us a thing because of the fact we slept with each other?” You ask. 

“Because I was too much of a coward to say this earlier.” He speaks without missing a beat. 

He scoots closer to you on the sofa, his hands providing warmth in yours. You don’t mean to dither, but you can’t help but weigh all the options. Hyunjin tilts his head to try and meet your eyes.

“I know you’re thinking about all of the things that could go wrong. About all of the things that could go right. What I could be for you in a day, a week, a month or even a year.” He cups your cheek, his thumb gently stroking beneath your eye. “But just be with me in this present moment. Think about what I could be for you now.” He says quietly. 

After some time, you lift your head to meet his gaze, the faintest smile on your lips. 

“Okay.”

Hyunjin’s eyes widened in shock and by the look on his face, you were certain that he thought you were going to reject him. 

“O-okay? You’re sure?” He presses. 

“I’m sure. I can tell you truly meant what you said and I think this would be the better outcome for us. I don’t think I could picture my life without you in it.” You admit. 

“Then I promise you won’t ever have to picture it because I won’t leave you. I won’t leave you, Y/n.” Hyunjin declares. 

You lean in and press a soft kiss to his lips. You aren’t sure whether your head is throbbing from your injury or the thrill that comes with you and Hyunjin finally being together. 

You just hope that Hyunjin is able to keep his promise that he won’t ever leave you; and that in the end, you made the right decision. 

jisung | 1.1k (1115) words 

You and Jisung sit on your sofa with a cup of tea in both of your hands. It’s been ten minutes since he has arrived and not one word has been said between the two of you. 

That’s how things usually are between you and him though. You don’t particularly need to say anything to know what the other one needs. 

However, you fear that your senses haven’t quite been tingling like they ought to be. Since what you thought was commonly shared between both parties has seemed to only be dumped into one. 

An unrequited love is always bound to end in heartbreak and you’re sure that is how today is going to end. 

“Is it just me or do things feel a little odd?” Jisung says breaking the ice, but in a way which has submerged the two of you in ice cold water. 

“Well I think I would be a little more fraught if things didn’t feel odd.” You add. 

You aren’t exactly happy with him at the moment either. In fact you think it’s in his best interest to explain just what he meant in those text messages. 

“Explain yourself then.” You say not beating around the bush. 

Jisung places his mug down before turning to you. 

“I wanna start by saying I’m sorry. I’m sorry for how I worded what I was trying to say in those texts. You aren’t stupid Y/n, I promise. I’m the one that’s being stupid.” He meets your gaze and you give him a single nod. 

“The truth is, I don’t think I’m ready to have a relationship with you.” 

If your feelings are hurt, you will yourself not to show it on your face. Except your face goes pallid as you feel the knife stab directly into your beating heart. 

“Then why make it seem as if we were? Why not shut it down? Better yet, why use me to get your rocks off and make me think that I am going to amount to more than just your best friend?” Your voice croaks, unable to hide the emotion you’re feeling. 

He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. 

“I can’t give you a definite answer of why I did all of that right now.” He says quietly. 

You can’t help the scoff that falls from your mouth. 

“What the fuck Ji? Why are you even here then? What are we even doing?!” You say starting to grow more upset. 

His eyes widen slightly as he looks at you. He places a hand on your arm and is surprised when you don’t shrug him away. 

“I promise I don’t mean to vex you, I just don’t have an answer because I don’t know. I just know that us having slept together made things seem…real. Like we were actually happening. When in actuality we weren’t and never will be.” 

That was a punch to your gut so hard that your body viscerally reacted to his words and hunched over slightly. You can’t believe what you’re hearing. 

This can’t be the Jisung that you were friends with for so long. No, he would never say something so outright. 

It’s as if he hasn’t even registered what he just said because his face is that of worry as to why you are stunned silent. 

“Jisung,” he winces at the use of his full name. “What did you expect to happen between us? Be honest, don’t say that you don’t know.” You speak gently. 

He thinks for a moment, his hand slipping from your arm as he uses it to fiddle with the zipper of his jacket.

“I just expected for us to play around and not take it to the next step. I just wanted a bit of fun with my best friend. That’s not so bad is it?” He confesses, looking at his feet. 

The knife is pushed deeper. 

You honestly aren’t sure how to react. What to say or even do. So you sit in silence. 

Minutes go by and all you can hear are the hum of the electronics in the room and the breathing of Jisung. He always has been a loud breather. 

A clearing of the throat pulls you out of your trance. 

“Please say something, anything.” He pleads. You slowly turn your face towards him. 

“What would you like me to say Jisung? I have just found out that my best friend—you—has been using me for shits and giggles and being a total ignorant asshole while he does so.” You retort. 

He shakes his head as he frowns at your words. 

“No, no I’m not the bad guy here. I didn’t use you just for that. Why would I do that Y/n? You mean more to me than that.” He runs his hand through his brown locks, getting frustrated. “Look, I don’t think we should blow this too much out of proportion. We did something that we shouldn’t have and now we just have to move on.” He says. 

“You don’t mean that.” 

“You’re my best friend Y/n. You know me inside and out. Maybe I haven’t been so transparent with you lately. I just think that I need to figure out some stuff on my own because clearly everything I say is hurting you and I hate the way I hurt you. Fuck, just seeing your face now, knowing I was the cause. I can’t do this. Not anymore.” He says solemnly. 

You blink. The tears trickle down your cheeks as you take into account what he is saying. 

No. This isn’t your Jisung. Just give him some time and he’ll be back. He’ll come back. 

“What are you saying to me Ji?” He places a hand on your cheek before standing up and putting on his shoes. 

You immediately get up and follow him to the front door. 

“Jisung.” You whisper. He opens the door and steps out, stopping and turning to you once more. 

“I’m always gonna be in your corner Y/n. Okay? Always.” Jisung says as he smiles sadly at you and turns away from your door. 

Watching him leave feels like the knife is twisting uncontrollably. You shut your door, not wanting to see him in case you’ll do something stupid like run and stop him from walking out of your life. 

You’re angry, you’re hurt, you’re confused. You’re in a state of shock. Was that a goodbye? Will you ever see him again?

You cover your mouth with your hand as you sob quietly as reality sets in. You had just lost the man you had fallen for, your best friend. 

You aren’t sure if he is ever coming back. 

felix | 1.0k (1077) words

The sun is setting and you find yourself in the familiar skatepark which you and Felix frequently visit to hang out. 

This was a first, you getting here before him. It felt uncanny, especially since the skatepark is an empty void. It’s not like you’re here at the late hours of the night which is what you guys usually do, so where are the people?

As you sit atop the ramp wondering this, Felix climbs up and sits next to you. 

“Hey Y/n.” He greets. No remark about you being here before him for a change. You face him and greet him with a small smile. 

“The sky is pretty this evening. Any particular reason for why you wanted to meet at our spot earlier than usual?” He asks you. 

“I knew the sky would be worth seeing from here today. I also wanted to be able to see your face when you lie.” You deadpan. 

He audibly swallows at this which makes you chuckle and start to swing your feet. 

“I’m kidding. Just wanted to watch the sun go down.” You tease. 

It’s silent, bar the birds chirping and the rustle of the leaves as the wind dances through the trees. 

“So about what happened with us,” Felix starts. “You think that we are more than just best friends?” He asks. You hum in acknowledgement. 

“I thought we were more than best friends for a while. You know, since this whole shebang started. The sex was just what I thought was you being ready to take our relationship further. Though that was foolish of me to think and not double check with you.”

Felix, now turnt to face towards the sunset, is quiet as he takes into consideration what you have just said. 

“It wasn’t foolish.” He says ever so quietly. 

Your legs still their movement as you turn to look at him. His face is being kissed nicely by the sun right now, his freckles practically glowing. 

“Of course it was foolish Felix. Or else we wouldn’t be here now.” You smile as you tip your head back and close your eyes, letting the last of the sun’s warmth seep through your skin. 

“No. It wasn’t foolish because I was ready. Okay that’s not entirely true, I caught feelings months ago but I only became sure about them during that week I was away.” He softly speaks. 

You drop your head and look towards him. His eyes are still glued to the vast blanket of orange and yellow across the horizon. 

“But that’s not what you said in those text messages. You said that you think that boundary shouldn’t have been crossed in the first place. Yet now you’re saying this? Forgive me Felix, but I’m finding it hard to believe what’s coming out of your mouth.” You sigh.  

He finally turns and looks at you, a small scowl on his face. 

“I know what I said in the texts Y/n. I don’t go back on my word. I do think a boundary was crossed and as best friends it shouldn’t have been.” A beat. “Though that doesn’t mean that I don’t feel something towards you. That’s why I’m so confused.” He turns his head back towards the sky, the deep shade of blue starting to make itself evident. 

“Like I said, I didn’t expect to catch feelings for you and then have sex with you.” He finishes. 

You lay down, watching the dark grey clouds move. 

“Do you remember much of that night?” You ask. 

“Of course I do. How could I ever forget. I mean we are literally sitting on the ramp that it happened on.” He reminisced. 

“Remember when I told you that I was yours and you were mine? That was probably said in the heat of the moment, but I meant it Felix. I’m not the kind of person who says things for the sake of saying them. Plus, I’m not focused on anybody other than you.” You say, closing your eyes again as the cool air brushes against your face. 

Though your eyes are closed, you sense that Felix was staring at you. You hear his clothes rustle before you’re wrapped up in his arms. 

He is cuddling you. 

“Doll, I’m sorry. I didn’t just say those things because we were high off oxytocin. You really mean so much to me. I don't want us to argue, I just want us to be together. For real. No hesitations, no take backs. Just you and me living how we do, but together as one.”

You can feel something wet drip into the crook of your neck. You know it’s not raining so you figure he has started to cry. 

“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings Y/n. It’s not what I wish to ever do to the person I love.” He sobs. 

You open your eyes as you hear his admittance. The person he loves. The person he loves. 

“You love me?”

“I’m in love with you. I was trying to make sense of if I truly meant it over that week and I reacted like I did earlier because I know you didn’t love me back. I was embarrassed.” He confessed. 

You turn over in his arms as you grab ahold of his face. It’s dark now, but a nearby light creates a twinkle in his eyes. 

“I want you to be sure that this is what you want. You don’t have to promise me forever, but promise me that this is truly what you want until it isn’t.” You say gently. 

His bottom lip wobbles slightly as he takes a deep breath in then out. 

“I am sure. I promise. I love you, I’m in love with you. I want us to be best friends. I want us to be lovers. I want it all. I want you.” He whispers against your lips. 

You smile, wiping his tears away with your thumb. 

“Okay, me too. We’re locked in?” You hold up your pinky. 

“We’re locked in.” He connects his pinky with yours and pulls your face in to kiss you softly. 

The two of you lay there in each other’s arms for the rest of that evening until a security guard ushered the two of you away. 

As you walk hand in hand down the street, you’re just glad that you have this ball of sunshine all to yourself. For as long as time allows. 

seungmin | 1.5k (1518) words 

You were nervous. More nervous than you expected yourself to get. Which is probably how you find yourself scrambling to get your phone, sending Seungmin a message to say that you don’t want to meet up and would rather just call. 

His reply after reading your message was to immediately dial you up, leaving no time for you to think about what you’re going to say and how you’re going to say it. 

You answer the phone with baited breath. 

“Why didn’t you want to meet me? You nervous or something?” He says very straightforwardly. 

Yes. 

“No. Just realised that I have things to do and I can multitask if I speak with you over the phone.” You lie. 

You hear him sigh on the other side of the line. 

“I’d rather you weren’t multitasking whilst we are having an important conversation about us. Pay attention.”

Your jaw clenches as you bite your tongue. 

“Fine. Since you want to be such an adult about this, why don’t you do us the honour and start us off?” You quip. 

“You already know how I feel about that night. About us blurring those lines between friendship and something more. We shouldn’t have. Having said that, I value our friendship too much to let something like that fuck it up.” Seungmin says plainly. 

You roll your eyes, not understanding what exactly he means by that. 

“Okay…but you do realise that us sleeping together has changed everything, right?” You say unwavering in your tone. 

“Wrong.”

You waited for him to finish what you hoped would be a longer sentence, but all you could hear was the minor feedback from the other end of the line. Taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you try again. 

“What do you mean, wrong? Things can’t go back to normal after that night, shit, after everything that’s happened between us.” You exclaim. 

“And I’m not saying they have to—”

“You are absolutely not still using me as a way to blow your load Seungmin.” You interrupt harshly. 

You hear him groan on the other end of the phone to which you decide to put him on speakerphone and place him on your bed. You wipe your face with your hands in frustration as you wait for him to speak. 

“I’m not going to do this with you if you’re going to be angry for starters. Especially if you’re going to be interrupting me. Got it?” He asserts. 

You release a huff of air, choosing to stay quiet in regards to what he has just said, but you reluctantly agree. 

“Fine, sorry. Carry on.” You say as nicely as you can muster up. 

“What I’m saying is I care about you Y/n. I don’t think it’s fair that people have also been feeding you troubles about our friendship. It’s between us and not them. They don’t know what the fuck is going on and I’ll be getting on their asses for that later, but right now my focus is on you.” He explains. 

You stay quiet, noting the fact that he is now outside and walking. 

“Seungmin, you can’t seriously fault our friends for noticing something you were determined to ignore. We were doing things couples do!”

“But we aren’t a couple. That is what I’m trying to get at Y/n.” He says exasperated. You hear a police siren go by on his end of the line which muffles the last part of his sentence. 

“Then why even do all that with me? Of course I was going to catch feelings. I’d be stupid not to!” You exclaim, resting your head in your hands. 

He’s quiet. The only sounds to be heard is the distorted traffic. You sit there unmoving, wondering why he isn’t speaking. 

A loud series of knocks on your door jolt you out of your trance. 

“One second, someone is at my door.” You alert Seungmin. Putting on your slippers, you rush to the door. You open it and you feel your face run cold. 

Seungmin huddles over, catching his breath before he makes a show to end the call between the two of you. 

“I am not having this conversation with you over a fucking phone.” He pants. 

He lets himself in, your mind still boggled at the fact that he chose to fast walk over here just to have this conversation. You’re both touched and terrified. Touched because he seems to really care about talking about your relationship in person. Terrified because this is getting much more serious than you thought it was. 

It’s times like these where you wish you and Seungmin hadn’t planned to live so close together. Now you have no choice but to face him in the flesh. 

In the time that you were finally able to come to your senses and shut your front door, Seungmin had taken off his shoes and jacket and was standing behind you waiting. 

He grabs ahold of your hand and leads you to your own bedroom. 

“Seungmin, I don't want to have angry sex with you.” You blurt out. You could’ve sworn you heard him chuckle, but he’s already sitting you on the edge of your bed. 

He places his hands on your shoulders and imitates taking a deep breath in and out. 

“No, that is not what I’m here to do.” He crawls up to the top of your bed and sits resting against the headboard. “I am here to make amends and stop what shouldn’t have started in the first place.” He says calmly. 

You have to hold your stomach to try and soothe the impending vomit that is about to ascend up and out of your mouth. 

“I’m gonna be honest with you Seungmin. What you did, knowing you never wanted it to happen or go this far, was not cool. I’m not saying you’re to blame for the whole of it…but as someone who was catching feelings and seemingly thought you were as well, I genuinely thought that us continuing to be intimate with each other was because you liked me.” You finish. 

As you sit crossed-legged at the foot of the bed and Seungmin sits at the head, you start to feel this strange disconnect between the two of you. 

Seungmin sits there silent, clearly thinking of something to say in response. 

“I…I think I didn’t stop it because it felt good.” He says. 

“Good because it was us or good because you had someone to calm your sexual frustrations?” You ask. 

The way he hesitates to answer and hold eye contact with you tells you everything you need to know. 

You let out a scoff, getting up from your bed and starting to pace laps in your room. 

“I cannot believe this. You were the last person who I thought would do this to me.” You say, pointing an accusatory finger at him. 

“Y/n you know I didn’t mean to hurt you like that. I-I care about you!” He says now getting up from the bed. 

He goes to reach out and grasp your arm but you step out of his way, causing him to stumble slightly. 

Not only are you fighting your tears, but you are battling your inner turmoil. Something like this would deem him unfit to stay in your life, no?

You couldn’t possibly still be his closest friend if he truly just used you for pleasure, right?

“Y/n please look at me.” He says, his hands now balling up besides his legs. 

“I can’t do this anymore. I want you to leave.” You speak barely above a whisper. 

“What?”

“I want. You. To leave.” Your voice cracks slightly, but you turn around to face him. His eyes are wide and his mouth hangs open, as if he isn’t quite sure that this is what you mean. 

Taking the initiative, you walk out of your bedroom and to your front door. You hear his footsteps behind you, murmuring a few ‘waits’ and ‘calm downs’. Grabbing his jacket, you shove it in his chest and step back. 

Your arms are wrapped around yourself for comfort as you keep your head held low. 

Seungmin silently puts on his jacket and shoes and reaches for the door handle. Yet, as he is about to open the door, he pauses midway through his movement. 

“Leave your house or leave you forever?” He says disconcertingly. 

You lift your head up, his back facing you. You assess him for only a moment. His hand that strangles the door handle shakes slightly and his other hand grasps his jacket. 

“Both.” You choke. 

He doesn’t miss a beat. Swinging open the door and leaving without looking back. 

Just like that, all those years of friendship cut abruptly due to the confounding circumstances that conspired between the two of you. 

Some could say it was rather quixotic of you to expect that you could actually have a relationship with Seungmin. 

Though you would just say that perhaps falling in love with your best friend was never the right path, but one you were unfortunate enough to take. 

i.n | 1.2k (1257) words

You can’t control the way you feel. You’re hurt. You’re beyond angry. You’re hysterical. How dare he talk to you like that? How dare he disregard everything the two of you have been through because he wants to stay your ‘best friend’?

You well and truly can’t promise that you won’t blow up on him when he gets here. That’s if he even bothers to show up. He’s already twenty minutes late and you’re sitting in the cold, on a park bench, drinking your hot chocolate.

“Y/n!” Jeongin calls out to you as he walks over to sit beside you on the bench.

“Where’s mine?” He says, his voice laden with sarcasm as he points to your drink. He quirks his eyebrow at you as he assesses your mood and it certainly isn’t one accommodating his jokes at the moment. 

Breathe…breathe…

He turns to face you, one leg crossed beneath him as his arm rests on the back of the bench, his gloved fingers tapping a beat on your shoulder. 

“Are you feeling better now? You’re gonna talk this out with me like the adults we are, hm?” He smiles.

You turn to face him, unable to mask your ire. 

“Just best friends huh?” You speak for the first time in a while. 

Jeongin stops tapping your shoulder to run his fingers through his hair. Tugging his coat closer around him to provide some sort of warmth to not only protect himself from the bitter chill of the air, but the icy look in your eyes.

“I admit, crossing those lines with you was never my intention. Being that I didn’t kiss or sleep with you because I wanted a relationship with you. I guess I was just lonely, you were available…tensions were high and we couldn’t control ourselves.”

You actually feel your heart drop to the pit of your stomach. This is not the Jeongin you knew and loved as your best friend. No, he was far nicer than what you’re currently faced with.

You are rendered speechless. The only thing you can think to do is take another sip of your hot chocolate.

It would be ideal if your hands stopped shaking.

“You get where I’m coming from though right? Like I said, I care for you. More than anybody else I know, but what we did was a mistake and that’s okay. We’ll know to never let those boundaries be crossed again alright?” He says placing a hand on your thigh.

“Don’t touch me.”

“Y/n–”

“Jeongin get your hand off of me, now.”

The smile that you used to adore, now falls from his face. His lips thinning as his jaw clenches and his gaze hardens.

“I genuinely thought that you had reason to be so pissy at me, you know, due to your work being so busy and all,” You laugh bitterly. “But you really are just a fucking asshole.”

He rolls his eyes and moves to get up before your hand reaches out to stop him.

“Sit the fuck down, I’m not done with you. I’m only going to say it once.” You say acrimoniously. 

Heeding your warning, he sits back down, his hands finding solace in his lap. 

“See, I was speaking with Hyunjin when you were supposedly too busy to talk to me and he gave me some pretty good advice.” You say finishing the rest of your drink and setting it aside. 

“What are you doing asking him for advice? He has no business knowing what goes on between the two of us, let alone an argument.” He spits.

Ignoring his disapproval, you elect yourself to continue. 

“He said that you don’t deserve me in your life. That a best friend would never, should never treat me like that–”

“Oh bull-fucking-shit! He is only saying that so that he can gets his filthy hands on you himself.” He interrupts, shaking his head as he looks beyond the lake at the horizon.

“I agree.” 

Jeongin nods his head in approval to your words. 

“You don’t deserve me in your life.”

His head snaps to yours as he sits up straight, clasping his hands together as he tilts his head.

“What?”

“I am not your little fucktoy for you to use whenever you get sick of your hand. I’m not the easy option because I’m the closest you can get to getting off without people catching on. You know because we’re best friends, right? No one will suspect a thing, right?”

You have started, gone past the point of no return as you lay into him and rightfully so. 

“I thought you had calmed down from earlier? What, did you discuss with Hyunjin all of the things to say to me before I got here? The fuck does he know? He doesn’t even know you like I do!” He exclaims, his voice raising in pitch. 

You gawk, unable to believe how he just bypassed what you said to talk shit about his friend. 

“This isn’t about Hyunjin for fuck’s sake! This is about us! Or rather the lack of.” You stand up, taking deep breaths as you pace in front of him back and forth. “You keep talking to me like I’m some fucking child. Like I can’t comprehend the words that are coming out of my mouth.”

You stop in front of him, sighing. 

“I don’t want to be in your life anymore. I’m done.”

His eyes widen as he grasps ahold of your hands, his thumbs rubbing over your knuckles.

“You don’t mean that. You’re just angry. You want me to apologise? Okay sure. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have used you like that and let it get that far knowing I wasn’t ready for a relationship.” He begs. 

You feel your eyes start to well up with tears. This isn’t how you imagined a six year friendship to end, but alas, here the two of you are. 

He stands now, moving his hands to cup your cheeks, his eyes darting between yours. 

“Come on. Let’s not act rash now Y/n. It was a mistake.” He keeps trying to reassure you. 

You shake his hands off of your face as you take a step back. 

“It wasn’t a mistake for me. It never was and never will be because I didn’t just see you as someone who was available. I’m serious, I won’t be treated like shit. Not anymore and certainly not by you.” You affirm. 

He lets his hands fall to his sides, his fists clenching. 

“So this is it huh? You really wanna leave me, leave six years of friendship because you got your feelings hurt?” He asks. 

“Fuck you, Jeongin. Don’t contact me ever again. I’m finished.” You say scoffing a laugh. 

You pick up your empty cup and start to walk away, not bothering to turn back to see how he reacts. Only then do you let the tears run marathons down your face. 

Little did you know, his fists unclenched and his hands were brought to his face. He collapses onto the bench, watching your figure get smaller and smaller until he can no longer see you. 

It was in that moment, where Jeongin only just realised how royally he had fucked up. His head falls into his hands as he takes deep breaths. 

The smoke caused from the cold air and the warmth of his mouth floating along the sky. Much like you, floating out of his life and disappearing. Lost to the abyss of a forever memory in his heart. 

a/n: the plate is still full i fear because why do i hate this so much AHSGAIA SGAISBSKSVG (i apologise. i said i would deliver, but the package got lost in transit)

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i do not permit my work to be translated or reposted in any way, thank you. 

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[biteyoubiteme]

7 minutes

soobin x fem!reader x beomgyu 

synopsis: you play seven minutes in heaven with your boyfriend and his roommate beomgyu. 

warnings: 🔞!!! boyfriend!soobin, shy!beomgyu, reader called girlfriend, mentions of drinking, masterbation (m!rec), slight fingering, nipple play, use of teeth, boobplay obvi, cuckolding ?, prob for got some sorry 

wc: 1.7k

an: anon ask inspired by @miupow s post! not my best work sorry anon ;-; i tried <33 feedback appreciated! [m.list]

“Isn't this game for middle schoolers?” 

“elementary I think,” you add while taking a sip of your drink. 

Someone had proposed to play spin the bottle. Most agreed it was too lame before adding that whoever it landed on would have to spend seven minutes in heaven in the upstairs bathroom. Two party games you didn't expect to see on a college campus but it was the end of the semester and people didn't care what they were doing as long as it involved drinking and some kind of touching. But it would pass the time before you got home where there would be definite touching with the way your boyfriend was watching you. 

When it reached this time of the night you knew you were minutes away from being taken away from the group. soobin was growing quiet as the night went on, gazes lasting longer and longer on your chest, your thighs, your lips. He never wanted to be rude to the people who invited the two of you, needing to stay at least an hour before calling a cab and hauling you to his bed. 

For now, soobin kept you pressed to his side on the couch, the coffee table in front of you being cleared away for the game. “okay who's first?” Yeonjun asks laying his empty bottle down in the center, no one moves to go so Yeonjun claps Beomgyu on the shoulder, “You're up,” 

“best for last, not first,” Gyu raises his hands shrugging but Yeonjun only shoves his shoulder, “Spin the bottle already,” 

You're not paying them much attention because soobins tracing lines up and down your bare thigh stopping right at the hem of your skirt before going back down to your knee. His arm slung around your waist, leaning in to whisper, “Do you wanna get-“ 

“oooo,” the crowd giggles around the two of you cutting soobin off. Both of you look down at the table and the glass pointing right at you. 

“no no no,” soobin shakes his head waving a hand in front of him, “you're not locking yourself in the bathroom with my girlfriend,” 

“scared he’ll steal her?” tae jokes pushing an elbow into Beomgyus side who is looking anywhere but at you. 

It was only a week since Beomgyu came home earlier and heard soobin and you in the other room. A week since he's started to fantasize about being the one to make you moan that loud. Even that day he told himself he would only think about you like that once, only one time would he touch himself with that image in his head. It wasn't hard to cum as fast as he did when he had the soundtrack of you two playing through those thin walls. But for a week you came over every night and even if you and soobin weren't having sex just the sight of you walking through the doorway made him hard. Gyu avoided you like the plague and now the stupid bottle was a blinding arrow pointed right at you dressed in that tight tank top, braless with your nipples peeking through the thin fabric. He could feel his face heating, tried to elbow Taehyun right back to silence the teasing. 

You could tell Beomgyu was a bit embarrassed, the group now going back and forth about how it's the rule of the game, couple or not. You took a final sip of your drink passing the bottle to soobin before leaning in and pressing a kiss to his cheek, “It's only seven minutes, you trust me don't you?” 

soobin did trust you, You've never given him a reason not to but Beomgyu wasn't exactly subtle these last few days. Maybe you haven't noticed but soobin had been tuned into the reactions you have been getting from gyu, the way he clammed up when you were around, rushing to his room as soon as you walked in, and the whimpers through the wall mixed with your name. It had only been the one time he had heard; the dorms were not exactly as private as they wanted them to be. And he trusted Beomgyu, only this was an opening he didn't want to toy with. 

at least not until you muttered, “You can listen at the door if you want,” 

soobin has never thought about you with someone else; the idea didn't seem appealing in the slightest, not with one of his friends, not with anyone. Having the roles reversed with him on the other side of the wall made him want you even more and made him realize partially what gyu was feeling. 

When the three of you are on the staircase soobin is leading the way, beomgyu following behind you trying his hardest not to look up your skirt. “we don’t have to do this, it's a stupid game,” but soobins pushes the door open to the upstairs bathroom tugging you in after him. 

beomgyu is standing in the doorway like a deer in headlights, frozen watching as soobin pulls your back to his front, your startled laugh breaking the tension. “come on gyu it’s only seven minutes,” 

“you don't have to if you don't want to,” you say but soobin palms your left boob over your tank top, squeezing enough to make you gasp. 

“yeah if you don't want to, don't come in,'' Soobins resting his cheek against your ear, smirking at gyu like it's a challenge rather than an offer. beomgyu wasn't going to turn away as much as he knew this was not really what he signed up for when he spun that bottle. 

The bathroom wasn't too big but had enough space for the three of you to fit, soobin and you facing the mirror with gyu sitting behind you two on the edge of the bathtub. He had locked the door behind him, your eyes following the way he moved, his cheeks flushed, hands balled in fists on his lap. he was watching the way soobins fingers moved, one hand sliding up the front of your tank top pushing the fabric up your stomach, the other massaging your breast making the outline of your nipples so visible gyu could imagine what they felt like under his fingertips. 

soobin looked at beomgyu through the mirror before asking, “Have you ever thought about my girlfriend when you touched yourself?” 

Gyu gave a surprised cough before clearing his throat, ��Um,” but he was distracted as your hand reached up to wrap around soobins wrist, your soft whine mixed with the word, “harder,” soobin kissed your temple indulging in your request. Your head rolling back on his shoulder, heavy-lidded eyes watching gyu. 

“answer the question,” soobin pressed, tugging down one of the straps of your tank, watching gyus throat bob. “we don't have all day, you’re wasting your seven minutes,” 

“yes,” the word comes as fast as the slamming of a door, shutting the conversation of your sanity. You didn't care what soobin had thought up before climbing these stairs, you would play any game set before you. 

beomgyu was painfully hard in his jeans not helped by the fact that soobin was now pushing down your tank top, your boobs spilling out before them. Every fantasy didn't do you justice now, the rise and fall of your chest drawing him in, the path of soobins hands knowing where gyu wanted them to be. “do you want him to just watch or should I be nice and share you?” 

you were rubbing your thighs together at the suggestion, soobin pinches your nipple hard for a response, “Share, please,” 

soobin would give you anything if you asked, this was no different. “gyu?” 

beomgyu didn't need to be asked twice. 

soobin lifted you onto the counter kissing down your throat before dragging his tongue down between the valley of your breast nipping at your skin, you twisted your fingers into his hair watching over his head as gyu stood up. You lifted your free hand out for him and he took it in his. You guided him to your free tit letting him cup your warm skin. He was kneading softly, testing the waters. 

Circling your nipple with his thumb he leaned down to let his lips ghost over your sensitive nub. Your fingers in his hair are enough to push him over the edge and finally taste you. Your back arching into their mouths as they ravaged your skin, sucking marks along any stretch of space they could get. beomgyu was rubbing his bulge against your leg, teeth tugging at you before kissing away any pain, your moans filling the room along with their groans. 

soobin is the one to fumble at his belt first, not able to keep himself together, knowing the second he started to tug on himself while sucking on you he would cum instantly. Gyu was quick to follow, shoving his hand down his pants. He was already leaking making it easier to pick up the pace. They were insatiable when it came to your boobs, soobins heavy gaze on you as he swirls his tongue over your nipple, free hand reaching below your skirt to press to your clit. gyu groaning around a mouthful stopping his hand after every stroke on his swollen cock, if he goes any faster he won't be able to keep himself upright. 

But it doesn't take much for the three of you to reach your climax, soobins long fingers working over your sopping cunt, the stimulation from your nipples sending sparks down between your legs. both of your thighs are covered in their hot cum, beomgyus face pressed into your chest as he tries to catch his breath, soobin brushing the hair back to kiss your flushed cheek. “look at how pretty we decorated you,” 

you untangle your hands from their hair looking down at your chest now adorned in an array of hickeys, your tank not enough to cover the full extent of the darkening red spots. gyu is shyly looking away from you, thumb brushing at the droplets of cum he left, squeezing your thigh. “definitely better than anything I imagined,” 

“let's clean you up and take you home, I'm sure beomgyu wouldn't mind joining us again. I can show him how good these feel,” soobin says taking your boobs in both hands and pressing them together, “wrapped around his cock,”

[darknight3904]

All Too Well

Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: As Valentine's Day approaches you and Joel grow closer with the help of one motor-mouthed teen who is unable to keep a secret.

Warnings: Language. Vague reference to SA.

Word Count: 2.5k

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February 2024

As it turns out, friendship with Joel isn't so bad. You do your patrol shifts together, brushing Turnip and Pepper out in the stables afterward. Some days, Ellie will be there, waiting at the stables for you and Joel.

Ellie and Joel's relationship makes your heart squeeze. The days with her in the stable almost feel like you're looking into a window that leads to the past. The curly brown hair and warm laughter of Sarah consume your mind as Ellie tells another bad joke.

You had mentioned Sarah one day, casually while Ellie had her focus pinned on Shimmer. Joel had clammed up, refusing to even meet your eyes at the mention of his daughter.

"I wanted to say that I'm sorry, about Sarah."

Cold air shot up your nose as Joel's eyes fixed on Turnip's mane.

"Tommy told me, years ago...I'm so sorry, Joel."

You watch how his hands squeeze the brush until his knuckles are white. A stuttered breath escapes his lips and he shakes his head.

"Don't want to talk about it."

You open your mouth to speak again, but Joel shoots you a glare that sends a shiver down your spine and you drop the topic entirely.

It'd been weeks since then. Valentine's Day was approaching and parts of Jackson were bursting with old decor that had been scavenged.

"So what's the point of this holiday, exactly?" Ellie asked you as she sat on top of your kitchen counter.

The fourteen-year-old seemed to be obsessed with being around you even when Joel wasn't. Twenty minutes ago, she'd shown up at your front door claiming that she was bored and Joel was napping.

"Uh, I guess to show appreciation for people you care about." You say, trying to think back to the Valentine's celebrations you'd witnessed years ago.

"Well, I appreciate you." Ellie says, "Does that mean I gotta bake you something?"

"No, it's more like...romantic stuff." You say, "It's really marketed to couples. Us single gals are out of luck."

You pour a mug of tea for yourself. You'd give Ellie some but last time she had spat it out and deemed it to be "warm piss."

"Well, you could always ask Joel, y'know." She says casually.

You nearly choke to death on your tea at the idea.

"Joel? Joel's got the romantic composition of well...a constipated elephant." You cough

Ellie laughs in agreement, "I just thought....you might have to make the first move with him. He spends a lot of time looking out the window, just staring at your house. Like it's gonna blow away with you in it one day."

You think about how Joel and Ellie live directly across the street from you. Was Joel seriously peeking through his curtains hoping to see you on days neither of you were on patrol?

"And how do you know so much about romance? You read tons of cheesy novels in your spare time?" You huff

"No! He just seems into you!" Ellie groans, "And I've only read a few romance books..."

The next day at the stables, Ellie asks Joel what his outlook on Valentine's Day is. Ever the gentle soul, Joel voices his opinion.

"Just a day for big-shot companies to make even more money."

Ellie glances over at you with big eyes, "You said it was about romance and appreciation of others."

"It is." You defend your opinion while looking at Joel and his stupid greying beard. Why was he like this?

Joel scoffs and looks over at the two of you, "Appreciation of someone else's wallet you mean."

"So negative, Joel." You huff, "I've never experienced a real Valentine's Day, sorry if my unrealistic views bothered you."

Joel watches as you finish brushing Pepper before stomping off in the direction of your house.

"Looks like you're in trouble," Ellie says from his left.

"Just saying my thoughts. Not my fault she's mad." Joel dismisses

"Well considering I told her you're into her, I bet that Valentine's wallet comment wasn't what she wanted to hear..."

Joel spins around to look at the brown-haired girl who has turned to baby talk Turnip and say that Joel smells worse than the stables themselves.

"You did what?"

Joel hasn't felt this embarrassed in years. Where did Ellie even get the nerve to just spill his secrets all over town?

Joel wasn't even sure how he felt about you and now he had a child trying to set him up with you. Ellie didn't know a damn thing about the past and here she was running her mouth. Honestly if Joel didn't care about her so much, he'd hang her upside down from Jackon's flag pole and leave her there for a few hours. Damn kids, always getting into shit they weren't supposed to.

"And Ellie told her? About your window watching?"

"It's not funny."

Joel's eyes snapped up to his younger brother, whose eyes were swimming with amusement.

"It is." Tommy shakes his head

"Not if she thinks I'm some...freak." Joel sighs as he looks down at Tommy who has made himself at home on Joel's couch.

"This is the same girl who used to cry when she got drunk and then openly tell you about how hot she thought that Wolverine guy was? Trust me, Joel she doesn't think you're a freak." Tommy dismisses Joel's fears.

Joel sighs, Tommy doesn't get it. You'd been unreachable in Joel's opinion. Sure, the small talk and patrol shifts were nice but it wasn't real. Anyone with half a brain could tell you were holding out on Joel.

"She was here in Jackson when you showed up, right?" Joel asked

"Yeah. I didn't even know she was here until Maria dragged her over to see me one day."

Joel nods, "She ever tell you how she got here? I mean it's a long way from Texas to Wyoming."

Rigid silence settles around the brothers as Tommy looks at Joel, the amusement from earlier gone.

"I don't know all of it...but I can tell you what I do."

There are few comforts left at the end of the world. Of course, you should never discount the fuzzy feeling of a new book and clean sheets can bring a person. Freshly showered, your hair pulled up by a towel, you've just settled in for the night when a loud knock at your door rings out through your empty home.

The knocks continue as you groan and plod down the steps. It had to nearly be 9:30, who could be bothering you at this hour? If you opened that door and Ellie was there, you were going to march her back across the street and tell Joel to put a leash on his kid. You liked her, but there was only so many puns you could take.

You swing the door open and your voice sounds more like a hiss as you speak, "What?"

To your surprise, it's not Ellie but Joel who stands there. The soft glow of your porch light makes him look a bit younger. His jacket is zipped up to his chin and his hands are stuffed in his pockets.

"Can I come in? We need to talk and I'm freezing my ass off out here."

You sigh loudly, "I was getting ready to go to bed."

"Won't take long, I promise." Joel's sincere tone says

Begrudgingly you step out of the way and let him in. He stomps his boots out on the welcome mat before entering, at least you won't have to clean up little water puddles when he leaves.

"What's up? If Ellie's asking about baking cookies again, tell her I still need to get more sugar and butter."

"It's not about cookies." Joel says, "Can we sit down?"

You take his appearance in, in better lightening, you can see how disheveled he looks. His hair is out of place like he's been running his fingers through it. His face is solemn, serious, and missing the soft edge it normally has whenever he goes on patrol with you.

"Fine." You sigh, pulling the towel from your hair.

You settle in the armchair that sits across the couch he's made himself welcome on. Your wet hair drips cold drops down your back and you squirm a bit, regretting your choice to let it down.

"You went back to my house?" Joel starts off, "After outbreak day?"

You look at him in shock, how could he possibly...Tommy. That fool couldn't keep a secret for shit.

"I did..." You say slowly, unsure of how much he knew

"Why?" Joel asks

"I dunno...I guess I thought you might come back. Plus, I didn't know where else to go. I uh, stayed in your basement for a couple of months. Thanks for finishing it, by the way, made my stay way easier."

Joel looks at you, his face unreadable, "Tommy said you ended up back in Pittsburgh, in the QZ til it fell in 2017."

"Yeah, I got back home to see if my parents had made it. After I saw my home had been burned down, I ended up in the QZ."

Joel nods, "I'm sorry for all the questions, I'm just...trying to figure out how the hell you ended up here."

You dismiss him with a wave of your hand, "I wish I knew, I'd credit it all to good luck though..."

"Tommy won't tell me how you got out west, said he didn't know." Joel prods

Your blood runs cold, it's true, Tommy doesn't know. You'd told the younger Miller brother that you'd traveled with a group before Maria found you. Technically you hadn't lied.

"I um...um..."

You hadn't told anyone about your time with Adam, the Walrus, or any of the men in that group. You tried not to think about it, blocking it out as if it had just been one bad dream.

Joel surprises you, leaning forward and taking your shaking hands in his. His skin is just as warm as you remember, a bit rougher than the last time you'd felt it twenty years ago.

"There were...these men. They found me somewhere in Illinois I think."

Your throat feels dryer than the fucking Sahara Desert right now. You want to push him away, throw him outside into the snow, and slam the door in his face. Yet you can't even bear to pull your hands from his, you focus on the way his thumb rubs circles on your palm.

"They took me further out west with them...used to make me..."

You squeeze your eyes shut, unable to look at him right now. Your tongue fumbles in your mouth, unable to tell him what happened to you. Warm tears fall past your eyelids and Joel's deep voice is soothing you,

"It's alright, sweetheart. Don't gotta say anymore."

You open your eyes again to look at him. Sadness lines his features as he looks at you. You sniffle, trying to keep your nose from running,

"I escaped one night after tricking one of them into loosening my restraints. A couple of weeks later Maria found me out by the dam starving and hallucinating. She brought me in and then helped make sure I didn't die."

Joel nods and squeezes your hands in his, "I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault." You whisper, a shaky breath leaving your lips

"I should've gone back for you. Took you with me to Boston. None of it would've happened." He says sternly

"It's too late to wish about what could've happened, Joel." You remind him

"I know that...I just, I wish things had happened differently." He sighs, "Never would've broken up with you if I'd known what you were gonna go through."

"No one knew the world was going to end." You point out

"You needa quit makin' excuses for me." Joel shoots you a glare that you can tell he doesn't mean, "Yell at me a bit, woman."

You rest your forehead against Joel's, not intending to do any of that.

"I don't yell at people I'm friends with. We can save the fight for another day."

The front door slams open and a gust of freezing cold air whirls in. Ellie stands in the doorframe, a thick purple coat sits on her body as she rushes in.

"Joel? What the fuck? You lock me out of the house and then go off to make out with your crush?"

You jump away from Joel, mourning the way your hands feel cold without him around them.

"Ellie, what are you doing here?" Joel sighs like just her presence exhausts him.

"I went to that movie night that Maria runs, remember?" Ellie says, closing the door and tossing her coat onto the hooks by the door, "We watched one of the Star Wars movies. I think Maria said it was episode 4, I don't really know what that means though."

"What'd you think?" You ask, hoping she doesn't mention you and Joel's earlier position. You're eager for Joel's attention to be off of you.

"It was fine. I liked that little droid Luke has."

"You mean R2D2?" You ask

"Yeah, his scream is funny."

"Always liked Obi-Wan." Joel muses, thinking of the movie.

"Which one is that again?" Ellie asks

"He's the old guy, Luke calls him Ben at the beginning, Joel probably likes him cuz' they're both old." You explain

"Hey." Joel nudges his foot to yours, apparently not liking your insult.

You listen to Ellie give you and Joel her full review of Star Wars. Joel smirks at you when Ellie mentions something about the possibility of Luke and Leia dating. Oh how shocked she's going to be.

"Let's get going, kiddo." Joel's voice is soft as he interrupts her when he sees your eyes droop shut.

Ellie huffs a sigh of frustration but goes to slip back into her coat. Joel reaches out and gently pats your knee, he wants to let you know he's letting himself out.

Unresponsive and clearly tuckered out, you're dead to the world as Joel says your name. He sighs and turns to Ellie, tossing her the keys.

"Get ready for bed. Brush your teeth." He says to the girl

"Yeah, yeah." She shrugs him off before walking off, shutting the door behind her

Joel sighs and pushes his arms underneath you. He can't let you sleep in this armchair, you'll wake up with an ache in your back.

He carefully goes up the steps, you in his arms bridal style as your head rests on his chest. A soft wheeze escapes your nose and Joel feels his mouth turn up into a small smile.

A warmth bubbles up in his chest as he lays you down in your bed. He pulls the soft covers up your body and picks up the book you'd left on the other side of the bed.

Joel runs a hand through your still-damp hair, taking in the hint of greys that weave through it. It's as soft as he remembers and smells like oranges.

He lets his heart take over as he leans down, ignoring the slight pinch in his back as he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. He pulls away and looks at your sleeping form again. The soft light of the lamp on your nightstand gives you a youthful glow.

His hand slips down your face and he runs a thumb across your cheek. The feel of a faded scar there has a frown etching across his features and in the moment Joel decides to make a promise, a promise to himself as well as you. Here in the warm glow of this lamp and the secrecy of your bedroom, he promises he'll never let anything hurt you again.

Next Chapter

Shorter chapter but...

I PASSED ALL MY FINALS!!!

Somehow survived another semester. I'll be updating more frequently now :)

Comment to be added to the tag list. This tag list is not chapter by chapter, I carry the tags over to each part.

Tags:

@lunaticgurly  @orcasoul  @snowlycanroc  @freythecrazyfae

@person-005 @greenwitchfromthewoods

@elli3williams @iinaths

[tunal0verr]

Recorded memories

Toge Inumaki x reader

Content: Wee bit of angst(mb chat) takes place after the shibuya incident so spoilers!! does use she/her pronouns mb chat人(_ _*) use of y/n

Summary: A glimpse into a few memory's with a certain curse speech caught on a gifted camera

A/N:not checked and i didnt clam to be a author team but inumaki nation was lowkey dry recently and if u cant find the art U GOTTAAA MAKE IT YOURSELF ＼（゜э゜）／

December 25th, 2017

“How do I know if it's on?” the voice was quiet as the focus of the video pointed down revealing shredded wrapping paper and an open box.

“Salmon” The camera shook before it pointed up at Y/N

“OH! It's on” She smiled at the boy behind the camera

 “Heyyy vlog it's your favorite y/nn” She took the camera from his hands and lifted it showing the mess of Christmas wrapping

“My super BFF Toge Inumaki got me this camera everybody say thank you Toge” She wiggled the camera up close to his face as he scrunched his nose.

March 13th, 2018

“Welcome back vlog” she whispered to the camera lens before moving the camera back swiftly 

“I am here with my co-host Inumaki and we are on the train going on a mission,” she said moving around in her seat to lay over into his lap blocking whatever game he was playing pointing the camera up at him at a very unflattering angle as he looked down

“Bonito flakes” he sighed as he looked down at her

“That's what I'm saying” she agreed laughing turning the camera to face herself before it fell cutting the recording short

October 31st, 2018

The camera was getting rustled around before it settled on her desk

“Um… do my makeup with me as my best friend is on a life-threatening mission while I have to stay back at the school” She gave the camera a small weak smile

“It's not like he's alone like our other friends are there but” she paused as she sighed

“He isn't  answering his text and I'm worried more because it's just different cause it Inumaki-not saying I don't care about our friends I love them to bits just” Her brows knotted as she looked down through the bag on her lap rambling 

“It's just different between me and Toge it's more comfortable- whatever this is stupid” She snatched the camera rolling her eyes before it turned off

December 31st, 2017

“It's almost midnight vlog” she giggled on the bed moving the camera to sit on pillows

“Are we gonna kiss tonight?” she joked nudging Toge with a smile as a blush crept up to decorate the tips of his ears

“Salmon roe” Toge shoved her back rolling his eyes before typing on his phone to show her

“Why would I kiss you you smell horrible” she fakes reading out with a gasp from his phone as he sat up shaking his head making an X with his arms

She looked up at the camera “he hates me guys my own best friend” she sighed looking down dramatically 

“Tuna mayo!” he groaned pouting at her pushing her shoulder again causing her to laugh and grab the camera 

 “stay tuned to find out if we actually kiss” she stuck her tounge out as she started to move the camera closer to Toge’s fake before he opened his mouth the camera cut 

April 10th, 2018

“And here we have a wild Toge Inumaki resting in the wild” The camera zoomed in on his sleeping face

 “Magnificent creature one of a kind,” she said mocking a fake Australian accent

 “Now we must be careful not to disturb the beast” She leaned the camera closer to his face before his eye peeked open and she gasped

“You're not even sleeping you're a faker!” she laughed as he smiled as it look like he charged at the camera before the recording abruptly ended

August 21st, 2018

The screen is covered with a sliver of the room being shown as a frustrated groan is heard at a distance 

“Like did you ever consider how I would feel? I get you and Yuuta are close and stuff but it doesn't mean ditch me to go and make the same plans with Yuuta” Y/n voice strained as she reprimanded him

“Fish flakes!” Toge’s voice sounded desperate 

“Put the phone down can you do that for once? Just listen to me! For someone who can't speak right you sure are a bad listener,” y/n yelled harshly “Wait no comeback” 

Toge pauses for a second before even considering what y/n just said to him her. Once he does he just stares at her with only a look that can be described as heartbreak before turning and walking out with a harsh slam of the door followed by y/n groans before everything where the camera sat was pushed causing the recording to stop.

Present

She paused and grimaced after watching the last video 

“I should probably delete that right?” she turned to him as there was still no reply from his part

“I didn't mean it you know” her words getting caught in her throat as her voice trembled “You don't have to fake no more Toge get up” She went to go grab his hand but she was only met with the empty bed space that was once occupied by his hand 

“Please wake up we can't just end as best friends I don't want to end just as best friends” She began to sob as she laid on top of his lap as his body rested in the infirmary bed her tears made the room go blurry as they clouded her vision as she poured her heart out in his lap. She moved her arms to wrap around her head blocking out the world. Blocking out the small smile that danced across Toge’s lips

He never was a good fake sleeper

A/N: if this is ass its not fault guys its 3am and a hoe is tired fr

[misqnon]

Thoughts on Sanji enjoying feminine things?

short thoughts: i love it and think he should do it more often esp because i feel like he definitely does in canon and just won't actually let himself do so. i don't draw him in drag all the time for no reason

long thoughts: [breathes in]

i could write an entire essay on sanji's character in terms of femininity, queerness, and misogny BUT we don't have time for all that so let's just focus on the fact i feel like there's actual evidence he enjoys traditionally non-masculine things and oda actually puts him in situations to highlight this pretty frequently

-i am guilty of calling sanji a metrosexual . it's a stupid word but it fits him. he's the only guy on the ship that showers every day and the only other ppl on the ship who do this are the two girls. man also wears suits like mad and has a fairly...daring fashion sense outside of that (granted, most ppl in one piece do.) but he just cares about these things more than most guys! and that doesn't even seem like something that came from his upbringing at baratie bc...no one else dressed like that. he just does that himself. i also can't stop thinking about the sbs where someone suggested sanji would be a stylist in real life and oda went "yes agreed"

-the kamabakka moment...okay terribly offensive and transmisogynistic (won't get into it bc i have several times before) BUT if we can take one thing from that it's that sanji *did* dress up in makeup and a dress and like. frolic with the okama. it's framed as "against his will" but he definitely could have torn that shit off quickly and easily enough, yet oda decided to imply sanji enjoyed it for at least a time before he chickened back out and called the place hell for 2 years. yea, it was probably for oda's idea of 'comedic effect' but this is, once again, one piece. sometimes the humor is part of the plot. sometimes very real information is given through the guise of humor. going off of this u could mention that (also offensive but meant to be funny) joke with the blood donation scene from fishman island

-idk just something about the way oda writes him fighting lots of queer or non-conventionally masculine characters. i feel like it says something about sanji having his own internal struggle about his masculinity- which we know must be true bc of his whole list of virtues he never breaks a la women because of his upbringing with good ol' fashioned zeff and uh. "men should be war machines" germa over here. he fights bon clay and queen for christ sake.

-the scene where he's like happy as a clam to be in nami's body in punk hazard is another comedy gag that's also a little . interesting. I could say oda just keeps accidentally coding him but I feel like oda's very intentionally with his characterization and the subtlety of it

-overall he's just clearly so interested in masculinity since zeff raised him to be that way and he holds zeff in such high regards in combination with his background with germa, his mother and his sister, leading to a I Have To Be A Perfect Gentlemen And Also Respect Women by Putting Them On the Highest of Pedestals. and this in turn has made him reluctant to engage with femininity in any way that could be perceived as Not fitting this manly persona he's made for himself, yet he keeps getting put up against it in various small moments in the series whether comedic or not. I don't think oda frames sanji's relationship with masculinity entirely as a character flaw or weakness to be fixed, bc oda seems to respect sanji's views/they align with oda's own views. BUT I do think he knows it's partially susceptible to change and....he makes Sanji encounter these things so often for a reason. does that make sense?

in my ideal world sanji 20 years in the future is a bit more feminine even if he's still a casanova ladies man. like he accepted the okama influence in his life, he's just more quiet about it, lmao. I mean did u see his hair for oda's 40 yr old design

so yeah. he does, I think. quietly and deep down.

[unreliablesnake]

Give me a reason not to love you (John Price x reader)

Summary: Price falls in love with someone who's off limits. Turns out his feelings are reciprocated.

Note: Just a little something I wrote in a rush. / If you want to know when I post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics and hit the get notifications button.

“There’s this lovely girl I met the other day,” his cousin had told him three months ago, then showed him a few pictures from your Instagram account. “I’m meeting her tomorrow, I need you to be my wingman, John. Just throw in a few nice words about me, okay? Make me look like a good guy.”

He had done exactly that, telling you stories that showed you his good side, and sure enough, the two of you began dating eventually. At first he was happy for his cousin, gladly listening to his stories of your meetings, but at one point he became irritated by them. Yes, he was jealous. It took him a week to realize that, but after that there was no question about it. He found himself stalking you on social media, always checking your recent posts and photos to know what you were up to. And whenever he saw pictures of you and his cousin together, he angrily closed the app and put away his phone.

Going out with his dear relative when you were there was pure torture. John tried to get over you, he tried to ignore his feelings, but every time you smiled at him, his heart melted. You got under his skin so easily that he wondered if he could ever get rid of his feelings for you. And maybe he was hallucinating, but he could have sworn you were sometimes flirting with him. Gentle touches on his forearm, carefree laughs even at his worst jokes, and those damn smiles he hated and loved so much at the same time. 

“Maybe you’re just this affectionate with people you like,” he told himself every single time, pushing his stupid thoughts away with a forced laugh. 

At one point of one of these nights out he had enough, excused himself, and went to the bar to order another drink for himself. He needed a breather, he needed some time out of your gravitational pull. You were his cousin’s girlfriend, you were off limits. Someone then sat down next to him, their knee gently brushing his hips as he stood there. When he looked to the side to see who it was that couldn’t respect his personal space, his eyes landed on you. You were watching him with a smile, your fingers wrapped around the tall glass you had on the bar top. 

“You’re stalling,” you said, your speech giving away that you were pretty tipsy by now. 

“What do you mean?”

You drank a little with your eyes focused on him the whole time, but didn’t answer at first. “You always talk so freely when I’m away from the table, but every time I show up, you close up like a clam,” you said with a pout. “Do you hate me?”

This question took him by surprise. Did he really make it look like he felt that way? It sure wasn’t his intention. With a sigh, he took the glass of Scotch from the bartender and focused on that instead of you. “I don’t hate you,” he said eventually. “In fact, I have this stupid feeling that you’re flirting with me, and it’s hard to be around you when my brain makes things like that up.”

“So you picked up on it?” you asked him quietly. 

His gaze finally fell on you, his brain in overdrive because he couldn’t believe you just said that. Even now you circled your fingertip around the edge of your glass while you watched him, the look in your eyes telling him he hadn’t been mistaken about you before. But why were you flirting with him when you were supposedly in a happy relationship? Why couldn’t you just be with his cousin without making a move on him?

John couldn’t take it. He excused himself and went outside, desperately reaching for a cigar in his pocket once he stepped outside and the cold night air filled his lungs. “Fuck,” he murmured when he struggled to light the cigar. Once he succeeded, he leaned against the wall and inhaled the smoke. 

After a peaceful few minutes you showed up, alone once again, although this time you cornered him with a wide grin on your face. You were enjoying this, you loved toying with him like this, but why? Why couldn’t you focus on your actual relationship? When you put your hand on his arm, John flinched. 

“You literally ran away from me,” you began, and despite your grin, you weren’t mocking him, you were only stating a fact. “I’m not going back to our table until you tell me what’s wrong. Yes, I know, you don’t hate me, you noticed that I’m flirting with you sometimes, but there has to be something else.”

He took a deep breath and leaned his head against the wall as he looked up at the night sky. Despite being under the influence of alcohol, you were quite good at recalling what the two of you discussed inside. He wished you were more drunk, he wished you just forgot about the whole thing and returned to your boyfriend. Then he would say goodbye to everyone, fleeing the pub and keep on drinking back home. 

But you remembered. And you didn’t just remember, you also cornered him outside, out of your boyfriend’s sight. How on earth could he lie to you when you were standing there, looking up at him with this sweet smile? “Say it,” John said when he leaned closer to you after what seemed like an eternity. 

You looked utterly confused. “Say what?”

He grabbed your shoulder and moved aside to change places with you so your back would be against the wall. “That you don't want me. I need to hear you say this so I can stop thinking about you,” he whispered when he leaned closer. 

“You like me?”

But he wasn’t about to answer that question. “Just say you don't want me.” His hand was pressed to the wall next to your head, and the closer he leaned to you, the bigger the temptation to kiss you became. “I'm begging you. Say it.”

You reached up to run your fingers along his jaw. “I can’t. I don’t want to lie,” you told him quietly. 

John let out a sigh and rested his forehead against yours. He was desperately trying to find a reason to get you out of his head, but you refused to tell him the only thing that could make that happen. Now he was torn between leaving you behind, going no contact with both his cousin and you, and staying here to finally kiss you. To finally have you in his arms. To pin you against the wall and shove his tongue down your throat in a messy kiss out in the open, risking one of his friends coming out and seeing the whole scene. 

“Fuck it,” he said after a short pause and kissed you, a satisfied groan leaving his throat when he felt your hands touching his body anywhere you could reach. 

When he finally pulled away, his blue eyes carefully watching you to see if you were still one hundred percent on board with this, he noted that you were a little too lost in the sensation. Your eyes were still closed and a small smile was playing on your lips, as if you were thinking about what just happened. And then the guilt hit him. He kissed his cousin’s girlfriend, less than fifty meters away from him. When did he become like that? When did he turn into someone who didn’t respect other people’s relationships?

“What now?” you asked without opening your eyes.

“I don’t know. Let’s see what you say when you’re completely sober, yeah?”

John wasn’t happy to say it, but he wasn’t about to make you leave your boyfriend when you were a little drunk. He didn’t want you to regret it later. So he decided to wait for a short while, hoping you would say you wanted him the next day too. As much as he wished you could stay outside together, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. They were probably wondering if he went home, so he threw the remains of his cigar away and took your hand to pull you inside. But the moment the door opened, he let go and acted as if nothing happened out there. It was a tough act, but it had to be done. He couldn’t take any risks. 

[kitsune-pop]

i have feelings about b-127 from transformers one

(also spoilers for the movie)

I've seen plenty of discourse around b, we all have. "he's annoying and cringe!" "he ruins the movie!!" etc. I'm not here to talk about your personal preference in comedic relief. I want to talk about b in a way I haven't seen anyone do before (and if someone has tag me I wanna discuss things!)

tfo is pretty clearly a story about disenfranchised workers reclaiming their rights and autonomy. fairly cut and dry. orion and d-16 have different ideas on how to enact change, plot moves forward. but b does stand out amongst the cast as the only one who isn't completely destroyed by the revelation of sentinel's betrayal, nor does he go through a radical personality change like Orion, d-16 or even elita. he stays his lovable self

why is that?

b admits himself that he got reassigned to burn pit duty. he plays it off, but it's made abundantly clear that he's unhappy. his work station is treated like a dungeon, and it very well may be! they had to climb up 50 levels of trash just to get out! which begs the question; did they have to sneak past 49 other trash watchers? or did the other ones just ignore them?

are the sublevels only for the ones the enforcers don't like or have any use for?

I'm going to pivot to talk about myself and my experiences. (we'll get back to b in a sec) I am very neurodivergent. autism, ADHD, cptsd and likely others that I haven't figured out yet. it's hard for me to keep a job. whether it's overstimulation, rude customers callous or abusive management, I lose my job a lot

I've never once quit

every time I've been fired, it's come out of the blue. no warnings, no talk about "how to improve your performance." just walk in, walk out an hour later unemployed. and it's always over something that I have no real control over. and it's because I'm neurodivergent. I know it is. I'm loud, make obnoxious jokes, talk too much, pretty much everything b does

and I'm punished for it

it's always the same way; they find some way to shove me out of sight. I'm certainly not an amazing worker, but I follow the rules and make sure all my work is done before I clock out. I'm worth more to keep than to train a new person. so I'm sent to a department that no one goes to. or I get locked into a night shift that takes over a year for me to escape from only after the manager who put me there quit. I'm not stupid, I know why. I'm off-putting to neurotypical people. so I clam up, shut down, become an automaton for whatever company I work for

and it doesn't matter

my managers always find some mundane thing I did wrong literally months in the past and use it as an excuse to fire me. it's happened three separate times and I can even see my current managers gearing up to do the same thing

I'm b, and b is me

he represents the coworker you don't like, the obnoxious neighbor who's too nosy, the friend of a friend who tries way too hard to be funny. he's the guy who you shove in a corner and forget about and he deserves freedom and autonomy too

I deserve freedom and autonomy

we all deserve it, it is our right as human beings to not be viewed as pieces of a machine to be shattered beyond repair and replaced when necessary. regardless of whether or not you enjoy spending your personal time around me. Orion and d are both unsettled by b, but quickly realize that he just wants to have real, not garbage (literally) friends. and then they realize that, yeah he's annoying, but he's kind, big hearted and just an overall sweet guy

I wish someone felt that way about me when they see me so disassociated at my job I can barely register the words they're saying to me

I wish a single one of my previous managers understood that about me

I wish I didn't live in constant fear that my apartment, my cats and my food weren't all at risk just because someone doesn't like my vibe

is it any wonder why they stood up and fought for themselves? is it any wonder that d became Megatron when he realized that his superiors viewed him and all his protocol following glory as nothing more than trash to be pushed around? is it any wonder how angry he got when he realized he was a single simple mistake from being forgotten?

...sorry, I got a little emotional at the end there

b-127 in transformers one means a lot to me

not because I see myself in him

but because I see my loved ones in him

[luveline]

I always see people writing for a very shy/subby Jonathan, but I’d love to see shy!reader staying over at his for the first time (doesn’t have to be sexual!) & our girl being reassured by him & all of the cuddles

thank you for your request! jonathan x shy!fem!reader arriving for your first sleepover ♡

You think you might have lucked out. Your first boyfriend being Jonathan feels like a storybook tenderness you don't deserve, he's just… so lovely. It terrifies you even though he never could, because you're desperate not to fuck it up. You call him your sweetheart, internally, and not solely for pet names sake — he has a sweet heart. He's unbelievably kind, adorable, funny and smart and level-headed. It doesn't hurt that he's your favourite kind of handsome. 

He's waiting for you as you park your car, standing in front of the closed door with a smile already in place. You know he'd made sure he was the first person you saw to alleviate your nerves. If you knocked the door and his mom answered, you probably would've tripped over every word, giving a terrible first impression in the process. 

"Hey," he says happily. How lovely is that? He's happy to see you the second you're in view. "Is that all your stuff?" 

"Is this not enough?" you ask, looking down at your jansport, suddenly worried. 

He finds this super funny and starts laughing his awful golden laugh. He reaches for your bag, fingers brushing yours as he takes it, and leans down to close the small gap for a kiss. You're not used to kisses, and you don't turn your head up right away. He uses his free hand to encourage you. He doesn't make you feel stupid for it. Just murmurs, "There," and kisses you again. 

He smiles against your lips and pulls back. "It's only two days, so you'll be fine. And I'm not holding you hostage. You can leave if you need something." His hand rubs down your arm. He squeezes your fingers. "But you won't need anything." 

He opens the door and you follow him inside, stiff as a board expecting his mom and his brother, Will. 

It's totally silent. Your lips part in confusion. 

"They went to the store. My mom wanted to make sure there were 'ladies things' in the bathroom." 

"She didn't have to do that." 

"I know. She doesn't mind, she wants you to feel welcome. That's what I want, too." His knuckle bumps yours. "Can't murder you if you never let your guard down." 

He starts down the hall toward what you assume to be his room. Your laugh comes out in a gross little snort that he adores, you can see it in the way his shoulders roll and the smile he shoots you confirms it. 

"Jon, you can't joke about stuff like that," you chide, catching up. 

He pushes open his bedroom door. "I'm not gonna murder you," he assures you. "You know how long it took to clean in here?" 

He puts your jansport on the bottom of the bed and looks at you in the doorway. His cheeky smile turns genuine, and his eyes go soft. 

You're expecting it but still squeal in shock as he rushes you and hugs you so hard your feet lift off the ground. He bends under your weight, digging his nose in your neck. 

"You look so pretty today," he says, like he's mad about it. 

"Jon," you laugh, glad when your feet touch the ground again. "Don't, please, I don't wanna be all sweaty when your mom comes home, she'll think we were doing gross stuff." 

"You don't wanna do gross stuff?" he jokes, before amending, "She won't think that. I've already told her you get flustered at everything." 

"You… talk about me to your mom?" 

His turn to clam up. Jonathan widens the gap between you and avoids your eyes, a nervous, endearing smile on his lips as he says, "Whaaat?" 

He's not very convincing. 

You watch him until he meets your eyes again, your smile soft as warm toffee. 

"I talk about you all the time," he says finally. He breathes out, his shoulders rising and falling. "C'mere." 

He raises his arms. You take the half step required to be back in his embrace, hugging him automatically. He settles his arms over your shoulders, a more casual embrace, and looks down at you. He's quiet. 

"What?" you ask. 

"Sorry. Just… like seeing you here. And I have something to say to you, because I know you'll worry about it, but– it's–" His arm curves up and hooks you in. He fights off his own shyness to accommodate your own, and you hope he knows how valuable that is to you. "Okay, my mom, I'll spare you a rehash of most awkward conversation of my life, but she doesn't expect us to, uh, sleep with the door open." 

You go rigid. "Oh, my god," you say, lips barely moving. 

"I'm sorry, but I just wanted you to know now, I don't expect anything from you, okay? And we could leave the door open if that was what you wanted–" 

"What?" you ask, shocked. 

"Not like that!" He looks like he's midway between laughing and crying, his face a fuzzy shade of pink. "I want you here because I want you close, not because I want– well, I do want– I want what you want," he says, promptly shutting his mouth. 

You take a nice, deep breath, squeezing your arms from between your touching chests to cup his face carefully. You thumb his jaw. 

"You're worse than me, sometimes," you sympathise.

"Yeah," he says. "I am." 

You wrap your arms around his neck with a pleased smile, forcing him to grasp at your shoulders. You aren't expecting to do anything you aren't ready for tonight, but the fact that he'd know you were worried about it, that he would brave such an awkward stepping stone so you didn't have to, means the world. He squeezes you. 

"Shit," he mumbles. "I'm sweating. She's definitely gonna think we were doing gross stuff." 

It's funny until you hear the front door open.

[littlejuicebox]

Plumber’s Crack(fic) / Leaky Pipes

I wrote this for an April Fool’s challenge. You can all thank @vixstarria for influencing me and for this monstrosity coming from that one single tag. AO3 link here.

This is written to be intentionally bad smut. Proceed if you want psychic damage.

Pairing: Astarion x Female Tav

Summary: In a Modern AU, Tav is looking for an expert escort roleplay experience. She gets far more than she expected.

Astarion sighs as he pulls up to a small, ranch style-house with a bunch of flamingo— no, goose… what the fuck?— garden ornaments. He glances at the number over the garage – 401 Pink Clam Street; yes, this is the right address. He pulls down the visor and watches himself in the mirror as he attaches the stupid fucking fake mustache he has to wear on these house calls. Mr. Szarr said no one trusts a plumber without facial hair… what the hell is he on, anyway?

He cannot wait until he is able to quit. This was supposed to be a temporary gig. But now it’s been years, he’s still stuck in this seemingly dead-end job, and truly, everything about it makes his skin crawl. Toilets, clumps of hair in the sink, sticking himself in small, confined spaces… gods, it’s all horrible. He sighs and climbs out of the work van. Time to just… get it over with.

*

When Tav hears the knock on the door, her eyebrows crinkle. She glances at the clock atop her vanity. It’s eleven in the morning – they’re two hours early. Well, perhaps they’re really in character… don’t plumbers normally come at any other time besides the time they actually say they will? She asked for realistic roleplay this time, unlike what she got from the last crap escort she hired. She’s getting what she’s paying for, at least.

She opens the door and is shocked to see a ridiculously handsome man standing at the entryway. She knew escorts were attractive but– well, she hadn’t exactly expected a greek god in a plumber’s uniform. Turns out, she’s definitely getting what she’s paying for this time around.

“Are you Ms. Tav…” Astarion pauses as he stares down at the word on the clipboard. He lifts an eyebrow. No, that can’t be right.

“Pusey? Yes, that���s me.”

“Can you spell that for me, ma’am?”

Tav blinks. This guy is… really taking the part seriously. “P-U-S-E-Y.”

Astarion nods as he stares down at the form in his hand. Mr. Szarr spelled it wrong on the form, of course. He’s going to have to fix it before she fills out the bottom half at the end. He glances back up to acknowledge the woman; she looks like she’s about to go pose for Playboy at any moment. She’s gorgeous, he has to admit. “I’m Astarion, the plumber. I’m told you need some assistance with your rim holes?”

Tav giggles. It’s time for her to play along. She puts on her best sultry face as she says, “Oh, yes. My rim holes are… definitely in need of your expertise. Please come inside.”

Astarion steps into the house. It’s small, but well-kept and well-decorated. It seems as if she lives entirely alone. “Where is your bathroom, ma’am?”

“I’ll show you,” Tav responds as she begins to head down the hallway. “I apologize, it’s very, very dirty.”

They walk into the bathroom and Astarion looks around. It isn’t dirty at all. Was she making a joke? He puts down his tools, opens the toilet lid, and begins to examine the commode.

“Is it true that… plumbers are good at laying pipe?”

Astarion glances up at the woman. She’s leaning against the doorframe, the picture of seduction. Her silk robe is slipping off her frame; she’s wearing a thin nightie underneath. She really does look like a Playboy centerfold. He swallows. “Yes, ma’am… it’s definitely an important part of the job. Perhaps the most important part. No one wants a plumber that can’t lay pipe.”

“Are you good at laying pipe, Astarion?”

He swallows again and stands. This was… not usually how these things went. “I would consider myself an expert, yes.”

“Then why don’t you show me how good you are at it?”

She’s got him by the coverall strap before he can protest, and her lips crash into his with reckless abandon. She smells wonderful, she’s gorgeous, and she seems to be very into him so it does not take long for Astarion to reciprocate. They’re caught in an embrace in the middle of the bathroom.

Tav breaks the kiss, and when she pulls away, she cannot help but giggle. Astarion’s fake mustache is dangling half off his face.

“Fuck this,” Astarion growls, and he rips the mustache off before eagerly wrapping his hands around the woman. He lifts her onto the bathroom counter and begins hiking up her nightie; he notices she isn’t wearing anything underneath. She’s unclipping his coveralls; they drop down around his ankles.

“Snake my leaky drain, Astarion,” Tav demands, her hands coming to pull his cock from his tighty whities.

He’s honestly surprised by her forwardness. But he does as she asks and quickly sinks himself inside her. He doesn’t last particularly long; he’s a bit embarrassed, but it’s not like he’s ever going to see this woman again. He isn’t so inconsiderate as to leave her without finishing, of course… it just… takes a while. A long while. His hand starts to cramp toward the end.

When the two of them are finished, Astarion runs a hand through his hair and looks around the bathroom. Tav is still on the counter, her hair a mess of tangled curls; one of her fake lashes is falling off. Well… at least they were both wearing fake body hair.

He glances at his wrist watch. Shit– he needs to complete the job and get out of here; he has another assignment later this afternoon. He coughs and tries his best to return to his professional role. “If you… give me a couple minutes to finish up here, I’ll be out of your way, ma’am.”

“Oh… of course.” Tav says and she slips from the counter and tugs her nightgown back down. “Take all the time you need, I’ll be out there with your payment when you’re ready.”

After a couple minutes, Astarion exits the restroom. It took him a bit longer than usual because he had to fill out a new form with the proper spelling of the client’s name. Tav is waiting for him in the kitchen with a smile. “I need a signature from you here, Ms. Pusey.”

Tav obliges and signs the piece of paper. Then she pulls out her wallet. “How much?”

“Five hundred.” Astarion murmurs as he tears off her receipt and hands it to her.

She nods and pulls out six bills. “There’s an extra hundred, for you, of course.”

“Oh. Thank you, ma’am.”

She pulls him into another kiss. “You’re one of the best plumbers I’ve had so far. I might be… contacting your company for your services again sometime.”

Astarion smiles and nods. He sticks the cash in his pocket. He’s not quite sure if he actually wants to be contacted by her or not after this… somewhat embarrassing situation, but he appreciates the sentiment all the same. “I’ll be on my way.”

Tav walks him to the front door. Then she quickly hops in the shower to clean off the evidence of their tryst. When she returns to the kitchen, she sees a text from her landlord.

Ms. Pusey, I forgot to mention this earlier. A plumber should be by this morning, around 11:00 to fix an issue with your toilet we noticed on our biannual walkthrough. His name is Astarion. Please pay him for his services; we will reimburse you once you provide the receipt. Apologies for any inconvenience.

She blinks at the text message. Wait a second…

The doorbell rings. She leaves her phone on the counter. She rips open the front door to reveal… a large, muscular man, dressed in a plumber's uniform.

The man roams his eyes over Tav and smirks mischievously before leaning his arm against the doorframe and staring down at her. His voice is low and suggestive as he speaks. “Hello, Ms. Pusey. My name is Hal Sin. I’m told you have some leaky pipes in need of immediate attention?”

[bropunzeling]

Mattdrai 47.

Brady/Quinn. 18.

a kiss as encouragement

"Quinn! Quinn!"

"What?"

Brady waves him over to the lawn, away from where Jack and Trevor and Cole are arguing over who gets to start off. It's shirts and skins; Brady's on the skins team, glowing in the early evening sun. Sometimes Quinn remembers him as he was back in Michigan -- tall, gawky, outgrowing everyone and everything as he shot towards six feet and higher.

Sometimes, though, he gets reminded that neither of them are teenagers anymore. That Brady's been solid for years now.

"Quinn." Quinn flushes, jerking his eyes up to Brady's face. He's been pretty good about not staring, but they all had a few beers before Jack and Trevor decided soccer in the yard sounded like a great pre-dinner activity. His mind is running a little slower than usual. He can't be expected to keep it together all the time.

In any case, it doesn't matter. If Brady noticed, he doesn't mention it. "Aren't you going to play?"

Quinn shakes his head. "I'm grilling, remember?"

Brady grins. With one hand, he reaches out, flicks Quinn on the nose. Quinn jumps. "So responsible," Brady says.

"Just making sure we don't starve," Quinn mumbles. It's not like any of them are great cooks. "Is that all you called me over for?"

Brady's grin gets wider. His eyes crinkle. Looking at him hurts, like staring down the sun. Too bright. Quinn does it anyway. "Well, if you're not playing, I'll need your luck."

"What," Quinn says flatly, pulling away.

Brady's too fast, though, one hand snaking out to grab Quinn's shoulder. "C'mon," he says, cheeks pink, still with that broad smile. "Wish me luck. Gotta beat Jack and Trevor."

"No," Quinn says, rolling his eyes.

"Quinn." Brady tugs him closer. All of him is warm. Too warm. Quinn will burn up just by being near him. "Don't you want me to win?"

Maybe it's the heat and the beers, making him woozy; maybe it's the sun, dropping low in the sky, burnishing Brady's skin. Maybe it's Brady's hand, holding Quinn in place, keeping him close. Quinn has any number of excuses for popping up on his toes and brushing his lips over Brady's cheek, the corner of his mouth. None of them explain the way his heart thuds in his ribcage at his own daring.

"There," Quinn says when he pulls away. He licks his lips. "For luck."

Slowly, Brady blinks at him. When he smiles again, it's smaller. Almost a secret. "Alright," he says. "For luck."

a kiss out of spite

Leon knows he's looking too long. He doesn't have an excuse. Not the drinks, which started flowing as soon as the skills competition ended and haven't stopped since then; not the ebb and flow of bodies in the bar as people came and went, making him light-headed. Leon's been drunk before; Leon's spent plenty of time in crowded rooms. None of that explains why he can't look away from Matthew Tkachuk holding court, grinning and cracking jokes, right in his element.

Stuart doesn't say anything, but he's a kid. Connor doesn't say anything, but he doesn't have to. Connor thinks he knows all about Leon and Matthew.

Matthew laughs, obvious even over the noise of the bar. It rasps against Leon's spine. He clenches his glass harder.

Connor glances at him sidelong. "Ease up, Drai."

Instead, Leon drains his glass and drops it on the tabletop, not bothering to say anything before heading off towards the bathrooms. Connor doesn't know shit.

In the bathroom, Leon splashes his face with some water, fixes his hair. He looks hungover. He is hungover. Spending a week third-wheeling before showing up at the circus will do that. He wishes he looked better than he felt.

Matthew looked great. Matthew looked -- fucking fantastic. Leon had noticed that in November, how good Florida looked on him. Happy as a clam in his shorts and short sleeves and stupid slides. Carefree, careless. Nothing weighing him down.

Leon runs the sink again, splashes his cheeks again. His beard drips. He doesn't care. He should head back to the hotel.

The bathroom door bangs open, and speak of the devil. Matthew steps inside, looks at the urinal, the stall, the sink. At Leon, staring at him.

"So this is where you ended up," Matthew says. It's nonsensical, but then again, Leon's never pretended to understand all the thoughts careening around in Matthew's head.

Leon grunts, which is rude, but he doesn't care. Grabs a paper towel and dries his hands.

"So," Matthew says. He stands casually, almost relaxed, but there's an edge to his posture. "You gonna go back out there and spend the whole night looking at me like you hate me?"

Leon presses his lips together. "I don't -- whatever," he grits out.

"Sure. I believe it." Matthew isn't fidgeting, but only just.

"You know --" Leon's not sure how he's going to end that sentence. That it's unfair of Matthew to want everyone and anyone to like him. That he has no right to go barging after Leon after he's been the center of fucking attention the whole fucking weekend. That saying no hard feelings? in November doesn't mean hard feelings won't appear. Not when Matthew made it eminently clear that Leon, like everything else about his life in Calgary, was something to be left behind.

Matthew's eyes flick to Leon's mouth.

It's been a while since Leon's kissed anyone like this, sharp and mean and with too much teeth. Even towards the end of things he was gentler with it. With Matthew.

Not tonight, though. Tonight, he bites down on Matthew's lip, gets one hand tight around his bicep and another against the back of his neck. His nails must be cutting into Matthew's skin. He can taste blood.

After a moment, Leon steps back. He's breathing hard. As he watches, Matthew licks his lips. Looks at his face.

"Come on," Matthew says, and Leon is viciously pleased that his voice shakes. "Is that the best you got?"

[thestorygenerater]

Have you ever seen something that makes you unreasonably angry? Something so stupid or unfair that it just bypasses all your reason or control making you swear or do something that you won’t because you’re ticked off? Something that goes the extra mile for you and goes past just regular anger and straight to a furry that just burns the more you try to smother it?

I have only felt this 4 times, the first was in a game. In a story where anything can happen seeing someone as realistically evil as kamoshida was a twist. I hated him so much more than umbridge that he started my realization that stories can tell dark stories without making crude jokes.

The second and third time was about the show Velma and the disregard of all animation that wasn’t adult swear porn. Velma showed a total disregard of its fans or its own series, of course the cancellation of dozens of good shows for more stuff like that crap was awful.

But number 4 is the most I have been mad- no Infuriated at something or someone in real life.

Tango Gameworks was just shut down by Microsoft… after they delivered a hit game of Hi-Fi Rush… this game was nominated game of the year. It won an award. It was actually FUN. This feels like if the spider-verse team was shut down after the first movie but not before Sony could clam their work…

This is the most anger I have felt to a real person or company, and yes this is on the same level of anger as kamoshida from Persona 5 who physically abused his male students and sexually abused his female ones! At least there it was a story about overcoming people like him, same thing with my hate of Velma. I despise the show but the creator just made it, I hate her but not in the way I DESPITE Velma.

Here it’s the first time my anger has a target, the same people who shut down Tango Gameworks then praise work like it saying they been more of it. We can’t let Microsoft get away with this but this is the first time I want to go out for blood. I want to punch THROUGH the people behind this, I want to scream at them until their ears bleed and my voice breaks, I want them to know that they have to own up to their actions and let them face whatever hell they made for themselves.

I know there’s more important stuff in the world and this might seem like nothing outside of the creative world, but please don’t support Microsoft or Xbox with its decisions, let them know that they aren’t invincible where they stand.

And if the people behind Microsoft somehow read this, then I have one message for them. Read your complain email or actual instal a proper one rather than your AI garage and see what the public thinks, there’s a special place in hell for people like you and you best hope you don’t share it with me.

[semimedieval]

the beach part 3: you eat raw oysters?

with the scene that put rimquartz on the map behind us, we're rolling onward, back to silliness. i remember writing jasper with full sincerity here but then being very relieved that i was able to pass off my lack of oyster knowledge as a character trait for obsidian. oh my god i just remembered how yummy oysters were btw. i wanna eat oysters again!!!!

Rim surfaced as well. "Now we can eat oysters!" He yelled hildin up an armful of oysters. Spark grabbed one, slurping it into her mouth. "Yum!" "Spark? You eat raw oysters? Or can you eat them raw, I'm confused." said Obsidian. "You can." She said, surprised. "It's muscles and clams you have to cook." "Oh. I'm an idiot. I've never been to the ocean before. Sorry." "Neither have I, but my mother used to bring them home from the market sometimes." she added. "Ohh, I see. Goatville was far away from the ocean, so we never tasted them."

Onion ring dialogue for DAYS here. Also spark and obsidian did not live very far from each other, most places where oysters were available to eat for much of real life history were COASTAL you silly gay people!! Obsidian's dialogue here betrays such a real and in-character shame about Not Knowing Things, both his and mine. He is so precious to me.

More oyster experiences, first and otherwise.

Rim ate one aswell and grimaced as a bit of grit went down with it. "I think it's trying to kill me" He joked. Obsidian tasted one cautiously. "Interesting..." he said softly. "Don't worry, they don't have legs!" Rim joked. Obsidian laughed. "Are they supposed to?" "No." said Lupus, taking an oyster.

One could make variable jokes about Obsidian, Lupus, and Spark's respective levels of oyster-eating experiences experience,

Meanwhile, Ky finds an underwater cave, and her mind link with Lupus indicates to him that she's up to some plot relevant adventure and it's time for them to get an RP's worth of spotlight again. Ky, of course, is on an Excellent Adventure (doing scary cave diving, which is super scary!!!). And also knows what classrooms are.

There! Almost there. She swam faster, faster until she reached the inside. She burst out of the water, sputtering for air. Ky climbed up into the cave. Cool! She had to tell the others! But how would she reach the surface of the water? Ky cursed under her breath. Ky looked around the cave. She might as well make use of it. She stood up and put on s brave face. She walked around, it was about the size of a small classroom.

In another case of Lupus being the only character I allow to feel real detailed emotions in moments of crisis, he starts to panic (justifiably, I think) about the dangers of diving. Cave diving, even. "Especially in a world where unicorns existed" is so silly, though. Is the implication that a unicorn got her underwater?

Lupus looked around. Where was Ky? "Nope!" Rim agreed (about oysters and legs.) "Where's Ky anyway?" "I've no idea," he replied, glancing around. Rim thought for a second then shot into the water, creating miniature currents in the shape of a circle that expanded. It acted like a radar. He swam around for a little while, about to give, when he noticed something strange. "Did you find her?" Lupus questioned. He looked down into the water as a panic rose within his chest. Ky was a strong swimmer, he told himself. She couldn't drown, nothing could have happened! But accidents could happen, especially in a world where unicorns existed. Spark smile faded as she saw Lupus "Anything wrong?" "Well, besides the fact that my love interest and my best friend is stuck somewhere and the ocean probably..." he started, his voice unusually aggressive, then faltered. "Sorry. Just worrying." Quartz put a hand on his shoulder. "We all do it."

MEIN GOTT, affection between quartz and lupus, that is to say CLEAR AND PRESENT EVIDENCE that the 2014 take that "quartz doesn't like lupus because she's always team obsidian" was a stupid and revisionist one. This is a fairly competently written sequence aside from fucking "love interest." TVTropes-inspired writing behavior is not cute.

Katia, you are not slick, I am dead certain that Moopy is well aware that all of you are IRL friends.

NVM I gtg already...I'm planning to show my Obsidian writing to my friends at school tomorrow (I'm so random XD)

Meanwhile, Ky finds some matches (inexplicably), while Rim finds the cave.

What was this? Some matches? She picked them up. It WAS cold. Rim swam near the cave entrance and so a flash of movement. He glanced at it but didn't see anything he surfaced in the cave. She lit the match and saw a figure in the water. "Who's there?" she asked, her hands trembling. "Oh, it's just you." She extended a hand to lift him out of the water.

The matches are inexplicable, but the atmosphere here is cool. I think the core structural problem underlying this section of the roleplay is that Jack appears to keep deciding that the reveal of the soul pearl – given that it BRINGS BACK THE DEAD – should be something dramatic and adventure-worthy, whereas Augustine already has a clear idea of what it is. So they keep doing this back-and-forth where Jack throws the ball and Augustine doesn't want to play ball if it's not the ball game he was planning for, which results in some cool ideas but an ultimately bloated adventure. It makes me think that I should altogether kick either the pendants or the sea dragon – or combine them. And of course I can't really kick the pendant because all of them, conveniently, loop around into eing relevant to the plot.

Meanwhile, on the surface, Quartz and Lupus worry for their Best Friends And Love Interests/Second-Best Friends And Backup Love Interests.

Quartz peered down into the murky water. "What's down there, do you think?" Quartz asked, voice trembling slightly. "I don't know, but I'm going down." said Lupus decidedly.

Aw, they learned the word 'decidedly.' Also Virginia briefly surfaces and has Clove follow Lupus. To my credit, instead of throwing her off, I have Lupus make the two of them diving helmets out of ice, but then Virginia is never seen again so it's not really a problem either way.

Anyway, the silly Indiana Jones Cave Diving Trap Adventure begins in earnest next post, but THAT warrants a complete post of its own so i'm going to wrap this one up. Overall, pretty strong plotline development here, I hope it leads into something cool and not slightly stupid.

[cosmiclove-heavenstruck]

Dance Lessons | Harry James Potter

Pairing: Harry Potter x fem!Gryffindor!Reader

Wordcount: 12200 words (Yes, really. Do you ever just start to write a little oneshot and then it turns out as a fic with over 10000 words?)

Warnings: swearing, mentions of underage drinking, sexual tension but no smut, fluff, slight angst, slow burn i guess

Summary: Harry asks you to teach him how to dance for the upcoming Spring Ball.

a/n: Set in Harry’s sixth year. English is not my native language, so there might be spelling/grammar mistakes. (The beginning is inspired by this oneshot)

Not many could say that they had faced Voldemort more than once and had survived, but Harry Potter was one of the few lucky ones that had gotten away every time. And if that wasn’t enough, Harry had defeated horrifying creatures, had broken into the Ministry and had saved the wizarding world several times – more or less accidentally, but hey. He had dealt with Umbridge and fought Death Eaters.

To the world, he was a hero, he was the Boy Who Lived.

So yes, his record of fighting the evil was quite impressive for a sixteen-year-old. But there was one thing he knew he would never impress anyone with and that were his dance skills.

Because Harry Potter couldn’t dance for shit.

Everyone who had watched his poor attempt at a waltz at the Yule Ball knew it had been an embarrassing disaster, and a blessing when he had stopped – merely for Parvati Patil’s feet.

Everyone who had watched knew that Harry Potter had never before set foot on a dancefloor. And you had watched. You had watched with great interest because secretly, you had wished for him to ask you to the ball. But when there had been only two weeks left and Dean Thomas had asked you after Transfiguration class, you had said yes.

There you were, sitting with Dean beside Seamus and Lavender as well as Ron and his date Padma, your eyes glued to the raven-haired boy getting terribly out of step. You watched, of course, under the pretence that you found it disgracefully hilarious.

Harry had never thought about asking you to the Yule Ball, if he was quite honest with himself. He had been after Cho, and he waited way too long to ask her, so she was already going with Cedric. And you had a date with Dean.

As good as Harry was with fighting the dark and the evil, as bad was he with social interactions. He had no problem producing a Patronus, but he was absolutely useless when it came to talking to girls.

You were the opposite.

Yes, the boggart may had made you faint in front of your whole class, but on the other hand, talking seemed like the easiest task in the world. Whether it was a chat with a teacher or speaking to strangers, though you did not thrive off of that.

There was one other thing that made you stand out to the other girls (and boys) in your year: You knew how to dance, from a simple disco fox to a more complicated waltz.

So, when Professor Slughorn announced a Spring ball for the students in sixth and seventh year, Harry knew you were his only chance if he did not want to make a fool out of himself again. He asked you (after a whole week of practicing in front of the mirror), with heated cheeks and a fast-beating heart, if you could teach him how to dance.

You felt a bit taken by surprise by this request, but agreed, nonetheless.

Friday evenings, eight to nine o’clock, were now reserved for your weekly dance lessons.

Looking at Harry’s history, it should be no big deal to dance with a girl when you had already come across the most dangerous things existing in the wizarding world. He should not be nervous; what was the girl teaching you how to dance against gigantic spiders who saw you as their dessert?

Well, everything.             

The thing was, Harry could prepare spells and charms, he knew what he had to do when he was faced with a Dementor or a Boggart. His mind, however, went completely blank when it came to you, like his nerves were on fire. To say he was nervous was an underestimation.

Harry ran his hand through the mess of black locks in a rather useless attempt to flatten them. They jumped back up immediately as he let go, pointing in every direction but the one he wanted them to. Stupid genes.

Sometimes he wished he had inherited his mother’s hair. It would have been fun to be mistaken as a Weasley and he could pretend he and Ron were actually brothers.

To keep his hands busy, Harry smoothened the plaid shirt he had thrown on before darting another glance at the clock over the door of the abandoned classroom on the fifth floor. 8:01 o’clock.

His fingers drummed against the wooden desk he was leaning on to release his excited tension, which only worked until the door opened, and he jumped up into a straight position.

You stepped inside, a vinyl clammed under your arm and an apologizing smile on your lips.

“Sorry I’m late, Snape held me off,” You said, placing your bag on the table Harry had leaned on previously.

“Don’t worry, it’s fine. Uh, are you alright?” He asked.

“Oh, yeah. I mean Snape just almost failed my assignment, but I found a new song to dance to, and I’m pretty sure you’ll like it,” You said as you rushed over to the old vinyl player in the corner and unwrapped the black record.

Harry followed your every movement. You could feel his eyes on you and bit down on your lip to stop yourself from smiling.

“It’s a bit slower than the other one, so it will be easier for you to follow,” You added and pulled the vinyl out, stroking a streak of Y/H/C hair behind your ear, your back still facing him.

When the record was placed correctly into the player, you turned back around and led Harry by the hand to the middle of the classroom. This simple touch alone made Harry’s head spin, and it did not help when you placed his hand onto your waist.

“Are you ready?” You asked and he nodded. “Good, follow my lead.”

There was nothing but admirable beauty, the way you moved to the soft piano music filling the room, Harry thought, and he hated himself for not realising sooner. You were like a sunset, and he was afraid to look right at you because what if you saw all the feelings swelling in his heart that dared to overspill at any moment.

You had been right, he adored the music you had brought with you, but he adored you even more.

You thought he looked at his feet because he was afraid to mess up the steps.     

“Hey,” You said softly, taking the hand from his shoulder to lift his chin. “Eyes up.”

“Yes. Right. Sorry.”

A sheepish smile spread over his face and your heart beat hectically against your rip cage as his emerald green eyes met yours.

It took Harry a great deal of strength to not break out of the dance routine he had so intensely studied and kiss you. But your hand slipped away from under his chin back to his shoulder and the moment was lost, like so many others.

Staying professional was not so simple for you either, as much as you liked to deny it. You liked Harry, more than friends should like each other, but who could blame you? Harry was very handsome, with his messy hair and those green eyes, he was sweet and caring, and he was dancing with you in an abandoned classroom, his hand on your waist.

Looking at it from this angle, there seemed to be no reason as to why you were so careful to deny your feelings.

Well, there was one problem: You thought he wanted to ask Cho to the ball to make up for the Yule Ball.

Harry was pretty oblivious when it came to love. Neither had he thought about you as more than friends before sixth year, nor had he realised that the feelings he had felt for Cho two years ago were similar to the ones he had for you now, though they were much more intense.

The worst part was that you two had been friends for three year and since then, you had spent a week of every summer holiday at the Burrow. Harry knew you; he knew that you liked his crappy jokes and his sarcastic comments, but never before had his stomach tingled when you laughed at them. Never before had there been goose bumps all over his skin when you hugged him. And to hell, never before had he acknowledged how goddamn beautiful you were.

“You’re getting really good.” You ripped him out of his thoughts.

“Oh. Really?” He asked.

It would be brilliant if he could dance without thinking about it all the time, fearing he could step on your feet.

“Yes, really,” You replied, grinning.

“Well, I- I suppose I have a good teacher.”

The piano music faded out and you stopped in the middle of the room, slipping your hand out of his. It was a good excuse to turn around and start the vinyl again, so you did not have to answer anything.

Harry stood there for a second, gulping and scratching his neck. He should not have said that.

What he had said flattered you, but it was only a knife dressed like compliment, stroking over your heart to stab you right after. All of this was amicable, temporary, fickle. All of this was for Cho.

You sat the needle back on the record.

“What’s it called? The song, I mean,” Harry asked quietly.

“‘Il Reste du Temps’. The rest of time.” You walked back up to him and took his hand, leading you two into the dance. With his hand on your lower back, he pulled you a bit closer than last time.

“So, there are only two weeks left. You have asked Cho by now, I suppose?” You asked to remind your thoughts of reality.

Harry narrowed his eyebrows, not sure how you had come to the conclusion he still liked Cho. She was great, for sure, but she wasn’t you.

“Oh. Uh, not really, no,” He answered. Your heart jumped.

“Well, you should hurry up. You don’t wanna wait until last minute like last time.”

“I- yeah, I mean, I don’t- I don’t want to go with Cho.”

You stepped forward even though you were supposed to draw back and stomp on his left foot. His hand around yours clenched for a second at the sudden pain.

“Shit. Sorry.” You quickly brought you two back into the right footstep order. “You’re not asking Cho?”

“No. I wanna- No.” Harry stopped himself from talking any further. He couldn’t ask you. He just couldn’t.

“Well, who do you wanna ask?” You said.

Maybe it was Ginny. She was gorgeous, phenomenal at Quidditch and in the Slugclub. Nothing you could say about yourself.

Harry opened his mouth and stammered. “It’s, uh, you know…some…girl.”

Oh yes, great save, Harry, congratulations, He thought to himself, couldn’t be any vaguer, could you? For Merlin’s sake, look at her, she is completely confused.

You were pretty even when you were confused, with your eyebrows drawn together over your eyes curiously inspecting him – Stop.

“Ah, okay. The lucky girl’s a secret,” You said, laughing lightly. It was definitely Ginny.

“No, I mean, she’s –” 

“It’s not my concern who you’ll ask, Harry,” You interrupted to calm him down. “As long as you ask her.”

Harry didn’t know what to reply to that. You really saw them just as friends.

The two of you danced for a while and Harry tried to memorise every golden speck in your dark eyes, every freckle, every curve, just so he could imagine you instead of the person he would dance with in a fortnight. If he would even go. Because what point was there to go to a ball if the one person he wanted to dance with more than anything else would not be there with him?

You tried to enjoy the closeness while it lasted. But the voices crowding your mind all shouted that he would never see you the way you saw him. That his face would never be so close ever again. That his hands would never rest on your body the way they did now, and never with any other intention than for the sake of learning how to dance, learning how to impress Ginny or whoever he would ask.

“Have you – have you asked anyone yet? To go to the ball with you?” Harry disrupted your thoughts and pulled you back into reality.

“No. I don’t even know if I’ll go,” You said and Harry’s heart dropped. “I mean, I’ll come to watch you dance, that’s for sure.”

Now his heart was way up in his throat, beating like hell. He swallowed and forced himself to answer. “No pressure then.”

You grinned at his comment. “Oh please, you can dance better than most of sixth and seventh year combined by now. You remember the spin I showed you last time?”

Harry nodded. He lifted his left arm and put a little pressure on your waist. You performed a small twirl before he caught you again, hand on your side. He smiled proudly.

“Really good.” The music stopped and you looked at the clock on the wall behind Harry. 8:57 o’clock. “I guess that’s it for today.”

Harry smiled sadly but you thought it was just your mind, playing you a trick. You packed the record back into the cover while Harry shouldered his back bag, handing yours to you. Then he held the door open for you, and you stepped out into the dimly lit hallway.

Harry had already pulled out the Marauders Map to check if the way back to the Gryffindor tower was clear. You weren’t technically allowed out after nine p.m. because of the new safety measurements, but it was part of the charm.

“Filch’s down on the first floor and Snape’s in his office,” Harry informed you.

“Okay.” You nodded.

Quietly and side by side, you two walked back to the Gryffindor tower. There was plenty of silence to break, plenty of time to ask you to the ball, Harry thought. But he was too afraid.

–

“It’s not that easy, alright?”

“Bloody hell, you spent every Friday evening with her! Half of our year thinks you’re secretly doing it in that classroom.”

For that, Ron earned a jab into his ribs. The two made their way through the masses of students down the last staircase to the Great Hall.

“Ow! It’s not my fault, you can’t open your mouth.”

“Oh, I can’t open my mouth? Have you asked Hermione yet?”

Harry was sure this would shut Ron up, but he was wrong.

“I asked her six weeks ago and she said yes, mate.”

Harry stopped in his tracks, stunned. “Wot?”

“Merlin, do you ever listen to me?”

Ron shook his head, walking to breakfast. Harry needed a few seconds before he could move again, then he caught up with his best friend. He was about to say something back when Ron’s sister Ginny interrupted them, wrapping her arms around both of Harry and Ron’s shoulders.

“Morning boys,” She greeted them enthusiastically.

The ceiling of the Great Hall was covered in a pale blue and yellow, the upcoming sun shining golden through the high windows.

“So.” Hermione poured both of you a glass of pumpkin juice. “How was it yesterday?”

“Mhm?” You looked up from your toast.

She sighed as if her question was rather obvious. “The dance lesson with Harry?”

“Oh.” You shrugged. “Normal.”

“So, nothing happened? Nothing you want to tell me?” She asked further.

You eyed her suspiciously, but she kept an innocent face expression.

“It’s not like we could do much besides dancing.”

Lavender beside you snickered and Parvati snorted into her coffee.

“Believe me, there is a lot you could do in that hour besides dancing,” Parvati said.

“God, no! Have you met Harry?” Lavender said bemusedly. “Like he's the type to have secret sex.”

“Still waters run deep,” Parvati replied, a smug grin on her lips. “Don't they, Y/N?”

Hermione crunched her nose at the suggestive tone as you narrowed your eyes at the two girls, shaking your head.

“Yes, keep making fun of my non-existing love life.”

You grabbed the strawberry marmalade, determined to ignore any topic concerning Harry. While you had lain awake last night, you had decided to bury your feelings for him all together and get over it. This would be easier once your dance lessons came to an end and the ball was done.

“Well, it does exist for everyone else,” Lavender interposed.

“And it would exist for you, too, if you would finally do something,” Hermione said, leaning forward.

“What?” You asked. “I mean, yeah, I like him, but he is definitely not into me like that. And I can't force him to be.”

Hermione groaned, and Parvati rummaged through her bag, pulling out a piece of parchment and making some space on the table.

“Okay, let’s see,” She began, “He asked you to teach him to dance. Big step for him, you know that. He always stares at you during Quidditch instead of the Snitch. Wood would've killed him by now. He always sits beside you. He definitely smelled you in Amortentia, regarding how he looked at you during that class. And since then, he looks at you like you’re the only person in the room. He –”

“He does not,” You said, grabbing her wrist to stop her from writing any further.

“Yeah, he does,” Lavender argued. “Look!”

You turned to spot Harry alongside Ron and his sister Ginny coming through the doorway, and for one second, your eyes met. Then Ginny said something, and Harry looked at her, laughing.

You sighed and stuffed the rest of your toast down your throat to get rid of the sour feeling twirling and burning in your stomach.

“Well, Ginny’s pretty funny,” Hermione tried.

“Yeah, she’s funny and pretty and she likes everything he likes.”

“None of that matters because he fell in love with you and not Ginny,” Lavender said, smiling brightly.

“He did not – not what you said.”

“He did! The list doesn’t lie.”

Parvati waved the parchment through the air, and you snatched it out of her hand, drowning it in the pumpkin juice before anyone could read it. Hermione curled her lip as she watched the paper soaking up the orange liquid, sinking to the ground of the jug.

In the same moment, Harry, Ron and Ginny reached your table, and to your surprise, Harry really did sit down beside you, your knees touching shortly while he climbed over the bench. The sudden touch sent sparks through your body and filled you with a comfortable warm which was quickly extinguished by Ginny sitting down next to Harry.

You didn’t want to be jealous.

There was no need to compare yourself to Ginny, you were two completely different people. But hearing her talk about Quidditch to the guys and seeing her flicking her beautiful hair over her slim shoulder made it so obvious how perfect for Harry she was. You couldn’t compete with that, in fact, you didn’t even want to compete with that.

No, you would get over your feelings and maybe ask someone else to spend the next Hogsmeade weekend with you. Those evenings with Harry, those moments too good to be true would stay somewhere deep down in your heart, locked away from the real world.

The weekend left as fast as it had come, and soon enough Harry and you both found yourselves in your day-to-day school life, studying for an upcoming Charms test and writing essays for Snape and McGonagall.

There wasn’t much time to think about each other, yet Harry managed to glance up from his homework a few times to stare at you opposite from him, snuggled into an armchair while flicking through a book. He noticed that you captured your tongue between your lips or mouthed single words to yourself whenever you were so deeply sunken into thoughts that you forgot the many people around you.

The latter found Harry very impressive because he was never that relaxed if more than three people were with him. Your lips on the other hand found Harry... well, much more interesting than his homework was the least to say.

Every day he woke up thinking that today, he would ask you. But whenever he came close to ask, he changed the topic or was distracted by friends and classmates.

Even Ron had given up with his jokes by now, which was a very bad sign and a nonverbal way to say, Man, you fucked up.

–

You had decided to make the last of your dance lessons a memorable one. An hour of pretending, of being close to someone you know you would never be this close to ever again.

Therefore, you had asked your older sister to send some of your favourite records from home, which you were now sorting through in the abandoned classroom. It was ten minutes to eight and you were sipping a butterbeer to cool your nerves. All those times before you had been as calm as ever, but today you were on the edge.

The door opened and you turned to find Harry in the doorway, hair messy as ever.

“Hi,” He said and the corners of his lips jumped up into a lopsided smile.

“Hey. You’re early.”

“Could say the same about you.”

“Yeah, you could,” You mumbled, pushing the needle of the record player down onto the vinyl.

Classic music filled the air and you walked over to Harry to lead him to the middle of the room after he had dropped his back bag to the floor. With the high heels on your feet, you were almost eye to eye, your nose at the height of his lips.

For a wonder, he did not need your instruction to place his hand on your waist and pulled you much closer than usual.

Harry felt his heart beating in his throat. Being this close to you was galvanic, every nerve was burning, and then again, for the first time in two months, he was able to close his eyes and let himself sink in, to melt with the music, to feel the tact pulsating through his whole body. It was what you had tried to teach him all along.

And yet his tongue was tied. He just had to ask. Would you like to go to the ball with me? One simple question. You had told him yourself to not wait until last-minute to ask, and now with every minute, every hour, every day passing it felt more ridiculous. He had known that he wanted to ask you and only you to the ball, but every time he thought about forming the question, his mouth failed him.

Your eyes lay calmly on him, tapping his shoulder in time to the music while secretly trying to remember every little detail of his face: His prominent eyebrows curved over his emerald green eyes, his flushed cheeks and the dimples created by his light smile lying on his lips.

Harry had become, for lack of a better word, quite fantastic at slow dancing. There was confidence in the way he moved through the room and held onto you, mingled with a certain elegance and appreciation of the art he was participating in. A good teacher, he had called you. Well, regarding slow dances, yes.

But there was one other thing he had yet to learn.

“You’re really good, you know that?” You said, and his smile brightened.

“Yeah? Or are you just saying that because it’s my last lesson?” He asked.

“No, I mean it. You know, I wrote my sister last week and she send some of my vinyl discs from home,” You told him as the music slowly faded out and let your hand slip from his shoulder and hand to turn to the record player, not noticing how his fingers lingered a moment longer on your waist.

Harry watched how you sorted through the discs, not able to make use of their names in any way. The only record he had come across before those dance lessons had been one by a singer named Bonnie Tyler, who Aunt Petunia secretly listened to on repeat during the summer when Uncle Vernon went grocery shopping or mowed the lawn.

Harry wasn’t a big fan, which was pretty much the only thing he had in common with his cousin Dudley.

“Here. To dancing and a nice Spring ball.” Harry snapped out of his thoughts. You held out a bottle of butterbeer, which he took and snapped its bottle top off, regarding for a moment to say something along the lines like To you, for teaching me how to dance or To us, but that seemed a bit too much.

Therefore, he went with a simple “Cheers” and touched glasses with you.

While he took a big sip in hopes it would make him braver, you decided on a turquoise and pink coloured disc with a man dancing on the front, the words Footloose in ornate writing covering its front. He couldn’t help but notice the grin you tried to hide, as if knowing something he didn’t.

“What’s that?” He asked, leaning against the table beside you and putting his beer aside.

“That’s what the cool kids dance to.”

You placed the needle onto the record. Drums began to play a fast rhythm, mixed with an electric guitar, and you slipped off your high heels, now only in tights. Harry watched with fearful curiosity how you snapped your fingers in time, bopping your head with closed eyes to internalise the music.

Every movement of your feet, your hips, your shoulders was nonchalant, effortless and... well, simply cool.

“Come on!” You said loudly over the music, waving Harry closer.

“No, no, that’s –” He shook his head, heat flushing his cheeks, and crossed his arms.

“Yes!”

You danced up to him, grabbing him by his hands and pulling him to the middle of the room.

Harry had improvised a lot when it came to fighting evil. His whole trip to the ministry had been decided because of his gut instinct, because he had thought he knew what he was doing. Well, that was probably a bar example. He had made everything worse back then.

But everything he had done to fight off the hundreds of Dementors at the Great Lake, or the creatures in the maze two years ago, or Voldemort at the graveyard, every single thing had been purely and spontaneously improvised.

Now, he wasn’t sure if he was that good at improvising dance moves, but you had other plans.

“Come on, don’t you trust me?” You said as his fingers clenched around your hands, unable to let go, like a man clinging onto a life buoy in the middle of the ocean.

And Harry wanted to say back that of course he trusted you, more than he probably knew himself, but all that came out was a “Yeah” which sounded more like a laugh than an actual word because of the grin stretched across his lips.

“Just dance the way you dance when no one’s watching,” You said.

“I don’t – I don’t do that,” He admitted, feeling how his cheeks burned under the unbelieving look coming from you.

“Okay, then close your eyes and just – just do it. Here, I’ll do it, too!”

You closed your eyes, smiling brightly, and slipped your fingers out of his, twirling on the spot like you usually only did behind closed doors, and clapping your hands in time with the music.

Harry couldn’t rip his gaze off of you, the way your body moved without any shame, your ridiculous head banging while acting like you play the guitar – air guitar, that’s what it was called, he had seen Dudley and his friends doing it, but never with so much... passion?

You were quite passionate about dancing, much more passionate than you were about school or Quidditch, and it fascinated him. How you could let loose, could forget what everyone thought of you, and he wanted to feel it too, wanted to not think that everyone was judging him.

So, Harry closed his eyes, concentrated on the beat of the music and your hands clapping, and then he did what you had been doing: Moving his arms, his legs, his feet, all a bit offbeat, all much less cool than what you did, but it had the effect he had wished for.

He forgot. Forgot about everything going on, everything in the past, everything that would come. It was like the music had deleted Voldemort from his mind. There was only his body and those absurdly freeing dance moves he would have been ashamed off any other time.

But not with you.

“Hey, you’re doing it! You’re doing it, look at you!” You shouted over the music, and Harry ripped his eyes open in the same moment as you grab his hands again. He slowed his legs.

“You said you wouldn’t look,” He said breathlessly, very aware of his fast-beating heart.

But if he was honest, he did not mind that you had seen him. If he could choose any of his friends to watch him dance like this, it would definitely be you.

“I had to, I’m sorry!” You laughed, and the song came to an end. “Oh, I have something even better, you’ll like that!”

You hit him friendly in the chest and rushed over to your pile of vinyl discs, wrapping the Footloose back up and pulling out another one from a white and pink packaging with two people on the front.

Harry would’ve never believed that dance lessons would be more exhausting than Quidditch training, but he had soon been disabused. He took a huge sip from his bottle of butterbeer and watched how you placed the needle on the disc before reaching for your own bottle.

“‘You broke my heart – ‘cause I couldn't dance – you didn’t even want me around!’” You were mouthing along the words the singer was speaking in an overdramatic seriousness, holding your bottle like a microphone. Harry was grinning at you, afraid of what would come next. “‘And now I'm back – to let you know – I can really shake 'em down!’”

The music dropped in, and you shook your hips, hands on your black skirt.

“Now don’t tell me you’ve never heard of Dirty Dancing,” You dared as Harry stayed at his spot, and he shrugged helplessly.

You shook your head at him with a smile on your lips, placed your bottle away and pulled him away from the table until you two were almost as close as in your usual dance lessons.

“Okay, like this.” You grabbed him gently by the waist and pushed him a bit down so his legs were slightly bent. Harry’s heart jumped at the unexpected touch. “Good, yeah, look at what I’m doing.”

Your grip became firmer, circularly moving his hips like you did. His eyes jumped up between your face and your waist, and he tried his best to copy your movements while calming his heart speed down.

“Yes, good! Now, your upper body, look at me – yeah! Good, eyes up,” You reminded him, and he glanced at your face, his cheeks flushed.

“Is that okay?” You asked, stepping closer so your hips almost touch, and he nodded. You took his hand, placed it on your lower back, and wrapped your own arms around his neck, just like Johnny and Baby had done it in the beginning of Dirty Dancing.

“That’s good!” You encouraged him, and he grinned at you, his face bright red. “You know, in the movie, they have another dance with a lift.”

“You’re not gonna make me do that, are you?” He asked.

You shook your head, laughing. “No, definitely not without training and a mattress,” You said, slowing your hip movements. “Maybe after the ball. I mean –”

The words had just slipped out of your mouth without thinking about them before. But Harry smiled, brushing a strand of hair out of his forehead, while I’ve Had The Time Of My Life began to play, and Bill Medley’s voice filled the room.

Harry felt like he was on fire. If you wanted to continue the dance lessons next year it must be because you liked him. In some way, you liked him, and it was very hard for him to concentrate during this dance. And training on a mattress would not make that easier – Stop it, stop it, just answer!

“Yeah, okay,” He said, and your heart jumped up in excitement. You smiled back at him and grabbed his free hand with yours, leading you back into a simple dance routine fitting the music. Harry followed almost effortlessly, only shortly glancing at his feet.

“I’ll have to demand payment if we keep doing this.”

“What kind of payment?”

His hand on your lower back pushed you a bit closer, you were almost chest to chest. Was he... flirting with you?

Whatever it was, it made you speechless, and in a moment of incautiousness, your eyes fell down to his lips. You held your breath for a second as you looked back up into his eyes, slowing your movements. He returned your gaze, but just as you were about to gather all your courage, his eyes shifted to the door of the classroom, his eyebrows drawn together in concentration.

“What?” You asked, turning around.

“Filch,” He said and not far down the hall, you heard the meowing of Mrs. Norris.

Panic flared up inside of you as you saw the clock on the wall: Half past nine.

“Argh, fuck.”

You let go off him and rushed over to the table with the record play on top, shoving your vinyl discs into your schoolbag and collecting your high heels in a hurry.

Outside in the hallway, the scratchy voice of Filch mixed with the clicking of his cat’s claws on the stone tiles. Harry had grabbed his bag from the floor and fished out his Invisibility Cloak. As you turned around, he had reached you and enveloped you two in the cloak, standing almost as close to you as a few seconds ago.

“Have you found someone, Mrs. Norris?” Filch’s voice echoed through the hallway. “Is someone out of bed at night?”

“We have to get out,” You whispered, not very keen on getting detention any time soon.

“If we open the door now, he’ll know someone disguised is there,” Harry answered.

“How often have you snuck out of bed at night?”

The corners of his mouth twitched upwards into a lopsided smile.

“Enough times to know what to do.”

The scratching on the classroom door reminded Harry that, despite the fact that they were invisible, it was still pretty obvious that someone had been in here. Harry flicked his wand at the ceiling light right in time – the candles went out and the two of you were coated in darkness just before Filch pushed the door open and the light from his lantern fell onto the stone floor. You held your breath, hoping he would leave again.

Unfortunately, Mrs. Norris’ red eyes scanned the room and the greyish cat walked up to you as if she could actually see you. Instinctively, you wanted to move backwards, but Harry’s arm wrapped around you, holding you in place. You looked up to him and he slowly shook his head.

Mrs. Norris eyed you for a few more seconds before she suddenly jumped onto the table behind you, walking up to the two almost emptied butterbeer bottles and bumping her head against them.

“Oh no.” Your voice was no more than a whisper. “I didn’t –”

Harry placed his hand over your mouth, forcing you to keep quiet.

“Sorry,” You mumbled.

Filch had turned away from the other side of the room he had inspected and was now walking over to his cat. With his arm around your mid, Harry pulled you two quietly away from the table he was now inspecting. You weren’t entirely sure whether it was the panic of escaping Filch or Harry’s chest pressed against your back, but the butterflies in your stomach were jittery as though they were on drugs, and your heart beat unbelievably fast.

Harry felt your heartbeat. He felt the pulsating blood in your veins on your neck where his arm lay, reaching up to your mouth. You were barely breathing, and he figured it was because he was holding you like he was about to kidnap you.

“Run when we’re in the hallway,” He whispered, eyes steadily watching Filch, and removed his hand from your lips to grab your free hand. You nodded shortly. Fortunately, Filch had left the door open, and in one swift motion, Harry had steered you outside.

Fingers still interlocked with yours, he began to run, you by his side. And despite the fact that you two had almost been caught, despite that you had been interrupted when he had felt most confident, despite the ruined moment, he felt light and free and happy.

You were clutching your shoes, slithering over the cold tiles in your black tights, and Harry, looking at you, almost missed the last step of the stairs leading to the portrait of the Fat Lady. He held onto you as he staggered, and you giggled breathlessly, pulling him back up.

“That – stupid – fucking – cat. Can she see through your cloak?” You asked.

Harry shrugged and ruffled through his messy hair.

“Don’t know. I think, but I’m glad she can’t talk,” He said, and a grin spread over your lips, which he returned.

He caught your eyes, looking at you like before, like there was something he needed to say – the tingling feeling in your core got overwhelmed by heart-racing panic and because of some sour mix of uncertainty and fear, you slipped out from under the Invisibility Cloak, taking a few steps away from Harry.

Not a second later, he emerged as well, fighting to keep the smile on his face like his heart hadn't just sunk so deep he wasn't sure if it was even still connected to his veins.

“You okay?” He asked.

“Yeah!” Your voice was too loud, too squeaky to convince him. “Yeah, I – I'm sorry, it's just been a long week and I'm really tired. I'm gonna – gonna go...”

You gestured to the portrait behind you, avoiding his eyes, and turned to escape the situation.

Harry stared at the spot where you had vanished into the common room, his fingers clenching around the fabric of his cloak before tossing it to the ground. It didn't give the satisfying sound he had wanted to make, so he sent a “Fuck!” after it.

“Young boy, that is not a very appropriate language, now, is it?”

His eyes flew up to the Fat Lady, who had apparently watched with great interest. “Besides, what are you doing that late out of bed? I mean I know it gets later on Fridays for the two of you but it's later than usual today –”

“Chinese Fireball.”

“I just don't know what you are doing during that hour. There are rumours, for sure –”

“I told you the password, now will you open the fucking portrait? Chinese Fireball.”

“Oh, fine.” She let the portrait swing forward. “I'll find out by myself... maybe visit some paintings down on fifth floor...”

Harry ignored the Fat Lady.

He also ignored Ron calling after him from the sofa in front of the fireplace, as well as Hermione's questioning look and all the other people staring at him as he darted through the common room and up the stairs, slamming the door of his dorm shut behind him.

He ignored them because the only person he wanted to be seen with had just left him standing in the hallway and he wasn't even sure why.

The first time you saw each other again was three days later in Potions. You had ignored him on purpose, which you knew was obvious to him: Leaving the Great Hall whenever he stepped inside, sitting as far from him in the common room as possible, avoiding his eyes... that did not leave that much room for speculations.

You didn't want to hurt him, you really didn't, but you couldn't be friends any longer, especially not after last Friday. You weren't even sure what exactly had happened – had he really flirted with you or had that been your imagination? Probably the latter. He had asked someone else the ball after all. Right?

Parvati nudged you with her elbow, and you snapped out of your thoughts, noticing the hole in your parchment created by your quill. The two of you sat in the far back of Professor Slughorn’s class, who was in the middle of telling one of his anecdotes instead of teaching about Veritaserum.

“What’s going on?” She asked in a hushed voice. “You’ve been weird since Friday.”

Lavender, who sat in front of you, turned around. “Is it because of – you know?”

She gestured towards Harry in his usual place diagonally across from you. You sighed, placed your quill aside to rub your hands over your face and shrugged. You had also avoided any questions from your friends about Friday, mostly because you could not even answer them yourself.

“I thought he would ask you,” Lavender whispered while throwing a quick glance at Slughorn to make sure he was still occupied with his story. “Didn’t he?”

“No,” You mouthed. Parvati shook her head.

“Man, you’d think he had grown a set of balls after all. If it turns out he just used you to look good in front of Ginny, I swear to Merlin –”

“Well, that’s what it looks like, I mean, he had enough time to ask you,” Lavender said.

Before you could reply anything, Parvati had grabbed her wand and leaned forward. In the next second, the blue Jobberknoll feathers on Harry’s desk burst into flames with an ear-piercing noise.

Both Harry and Ron jumped up, startled from the sudden explosion, and Hermione let out a little shriek as one of the sparks got caught up in her locks. Snickering came from the Slytherin table, and Crabbe and Goyle were stupidly grinning.

“Was that you? Stupid tosspot, I’ll shove that feather up your –,” Ron swore loudly, fists high and ready to walk over to the Slytherins, who had gotten up as well and were throwing insults through the room.

“Calm down, m’boys, no need to get abusive.”

Slughorn stepped between the two fronts while both Harry and Hermione pulled Ron back down onto his chair. With a wave of Slughorn’s wand, the feathers stopped burning and were as good as new.

“Have you gone mental?” You asked during the turmoil. Parvati shrugged and innocently shoved her wand aside.

“You’re my friend and if he hurt you, he’ll get what he deserves –”

“He didn’t hurt me!” You whispered angrily. “I was the one who panicked, I ran away that evening because I was afraid of what he would say! Not Harry. I left him like the idiot I am even though he – he was super nice and said he wanted to learn more –”

“Ms. Y/L/N?”

“Sorry, Professor, I was just –”

“Talking to Ms. Patil, I noticed. Could you still answer my question?” Slughorn eyed you, and so were all the other students.

“Uh...yes... if you could repeat it? Sir.” You said, and once again snickering echoed through the classroom, the loudest coming from Pansy Parkinson.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Parvati reaching for her wand again, and you quickly pressed her hand down to the table, awkwardly smiling at Slughorn.

“I asked if you could tell me anything about the usage of Veritaserum in court,” He kindly repeated and you straightened your back, ignoring Hermione’s raised hand.

“Well, the potion is strictly banned by the British Ministry of Magic, therefore they don’t use it during interrogations and such, which is also because, like any other potion, it’s not infallible. But I read that in some Asian countries, the accused can choose if they want to take Veritaserum before they give testimony. Unfortunately, in some courts they give the accused failed Veritaserum in order to alter the given testimony fraudulently.”

You had never read about that, you were – ironically – making it up, but Slughorn didn’t seem to notice.

“Very well, that’ll be five points for Gryffindor,” He said. “That reminds me of –”

As Slughorn fell back into his old habit of telling personal stories during class, you sank back into your chair and stared at the chapped top of the desk for the rest of the lesson.

Only the bell ripped Slughorn out of his monologue, and over the rustling of chairs, he told the class to read the next chapter of Advanced Potion Making until Wednesday.

“Courtyard?” You asked Parvati as to where to spend your free lesson.

“Yeah, but I got a question about that graded essay from last week. Just go ahead, I’ll catch up with you,” She answered and made her way to the front. Alongside with Lavender, you were one of the first to leave the Potions classroom.

“I wish I hadn’t picked Arithmancy,” Lavender complained.

“You can sleep longer on Thursdays, remember?” You said as you reached the entrance hall. “I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, bye.”

Lavender began to climb up the stairs to the third floor, and you walked down the hallway. It was freezing cold outside, but the courtyard was beautiful during every time of the year, especially in the early mornings when the sun melted the iced-up grass and you could share a hot chocolate with your friends on one of the benches.

“Hey, Y/N! Wait!”

You turned to spot none other than Theodore Nott running up to you, his Slytherin scarf loosely around his neck.

“Hi,” He said as he had reached you.

“Uh, hi. Can I help you?” You asked.

“Actually, yeah. I wanted to ask if you have a dance to spare at the Spring ball? I mean, I know you’re going with Potter, I just wanted one dance with someone professional –”

“I’m not going with Harry,” You blurted out. Theodore narrowed his eyebrows.

“What?” He asked, a bemused smile on his lips.

You gulped and shook your head, crossing your arms. “I’m not going with... anyone.”

“Oh. Well, then,” His body relaxed visibly, and he raised his eyebrows, “do you wanna go with me?”

You opened your mouth, an agreement already on the tip of your tongue, but you knew that was just out of desperation and not because you actually wanted to go to the ball with Theodore.

“Hey, you know what, no pressure at all, okay?” He said, placing his hand on your shoulder casually. “I’ll be at the ball anyway, so if you want to dance then, I’m free.”

You nodded. “Thank you, Theodore. I’ll think about it.”

“You can call me Theo. Only if you want to, obviously.”

A grin crept upon your face. “Yeah, I’ll – I’ll think about it.”

Whatever Harry had felt the two days prior, it was nothing compared to the sour feeling circulating in his stomach now, like some dragon-creature spitting fire and tearing at his entrails with sharp claws. Inside of him, everything was clenching and itching, but on the outside, he was numb.

Like his brain had been disconnected from his muscles, wherefore he was only able to stare at Theodore Nott and his stupid, complacent grin and his hand on your shoulder while he asked you to the ball.

This wasn’t fair. How come everyone else but him was able to do it, how come everybody else had managed to find a date, when – to be honest – he had been provided with one of the best initial situations? How come the only thing he was apparently fit for was getting himself into trouble and escaping death every goddamn year? Harry had kind of forgotten about all that was to come, all that Dumbledore had told him, and the memory Slughorn was still tending like dark secret simply because of you.

The worst thing wasn’t that Theodore Nott had just asked you to go to the Spring ball with him. No, the worst thing was that you had agreed.

The only thing that was left for him was to run, which he did now: Up to the Gryffindor tower, tossing his back bag into a corner and grabbing his Firebolt from under the bed, then back down to the Quidditch pitch in record time.

Flying was one of the most freeing activities known to Harry, especially in the cool, fresh morning air with no one else around. High above the frozen grass and the wooden stands, much higher than probably allowed without any teacher near by, Harry paused to watch the sun over the Forbidden Forest.

He wondered if you had ever flown before, if you knew how brilliant it was to hover a thousand feet above the ground, far away from all the problems. Far away from Ron asking what the bloody hell was wrong with him. Far away from Hermione telling him that it was his own fault for waiting so long but that you surely weren’t interested like that in that tosser Theodore (though she would probably word it much more formal).

Time was relative up here, Harry had noticed over the years, so he closed his eyes and shut the world out for a moment. Saturday was still light-years away anyway, so –

“Harry, is that you?”

He almost fell from his broom.

With his heart still beating way to fast and adrenalin pumping though his veins, he turned his broom around to find no one other that Luna standing inside commentary box and waving up to him. Oh well. So much for being alone.

He steered his Firebolt down to the blonde witch and landed beside her.

“What are you doing her, Luna?” He asked as climbed from his broomstick. “Don’t you have classes right now?”

“Oh, yes. But I saw that you are sad so I asked Professor Sprout if I could go because I’m not feeling very well,” She explained and sat down on one of the benches.

“You lied to a professor?”

“Oh, no,” She said, looking at him with her dreamy blue eyes. “I don’t feel well when my friends are sad.”

Harry didn’t know what to reply to that, so he simply sat down next to her. Luna had such a strange, but calm energy, like a pulsating, pink bubble inhibiting her, and if you were lucky, she let you inside this bubble and you could shut the world out for a moment.

“Harry, why are you sad?” Luna asked softly after a while.

“Because... because I like someone who doesn’t like me back,” He said.

Luna placed her hand upon his, and he saw that she had painted her fingernails in every colour of the rainbow. Though that was probably Ginny’s work.

“I think Y/N likes you very much,” She said. Harry scoffed.

“Not the way I like her,” He said. “She just agreed to go to the ball with Nott. I saw it. She looked happy. And when I wanted to ask her last week, she ran away.”

“You know, first I thought you wanted to go to the ball with somebody else,” She said. “I thought maybe you wanted to ask Cho again and wanted to prepare this time. And maybe Y/N thought so, too.”

Harry looked up at the blonde girl.

“She did ask me if I was going to ask Cho,” He said, remembering one of the dance lessons.

“And did you tell her that you actually want to ask her?”

“No,” He admitted, burying his face in his hands. “I panicked... and now it’s too late.”

“No, it’s not. You should still go to the ball, and then you should tell her,” Luna said.

“How? I can’t do it when we’re alone, I certainly can’t do it when there’s a hundred people around,” Harry said miserably.

“Well, then don’t.” Luna shrugged. “If you want her to be with Theodore –”

“I don’t want that,” He interrupted her. “Of course, I don’t.”

“Then go to the ball and tell her. I know you can do that.”

Saturday evening came around faster than you liked it to. Over the last four days, you had noticed Theodore’s eyes on you more than once during the meals or potions class, but it did not cause the tingling feeling in your stomach you would like his looks to cause.

If anything, you felt a pressure to talk to him and to spend time with him because you would go to the ball together. But you did not give in to that pressure and avoided him as much as possible, which led to you often leaving the potions classroom as one of the first.

To be honest, you were much more concentrated on Harry.

Harry who did not sit beside you during meals anymore. Harry who did not look in your direction but rather stared at his plate. Harry who looked like he had just lived through a very miserable week.

And you knew that was because you had left him standing in the hallway last Friday night. Maybe he had figured that you had feelings for him and that was his way of dealing with it: Distancing himself from you.

You wished you had not run. You wished you could’ve stayed in that abandoned classroom forever, your favourite song playing and his arms around you.

–

“What eyeshadow should I use?”

“The darker one.”

“Y/N?”

You snapped out of your thoughts, looking up from where you sat on the floor in your puffy, ankle-long purple-pink dress. Parvati held out her eyeshadow palette, eyebrows raised as she sceptically eyed you. Her black hair was still wrapped around a dozen curlers. Lavender had spent all morning on them.

“Yes, the darker one,” You said. “Brings out your eyes.”

Thankfully, that answer seemed to satisfy her enough to not ask how you were doing. She and Lavender had already asked that over a million times, but you had reassured them that you were totally okay.

Parvati turned back to face the mirror.

“When did you want to meet with Nott?” Lavender asked. She kneeled in front of her trunk, pondering whether she should wear black or silver heels.

“Half past seven,” You mumbled, picking at the tulle of your dress.

Theodore had held you back yesterday after Defence against the Dark Arts to tell you that he would be at the Great Hall at 7:30 and that you were welcome to eat dinner with him and his friends – which included people like Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson; people you usually avoided by all means, people that had laughed at you for tripping over the last step of a stair, for not knowing an answer to one of Snape’s stupid questions, or for simply being Muggleborn.

You had never been less interested in going to a social event. All you wanted to do was lay in bed under your blanket and erase the last week out of your mind.

“Oh, come on, darling, we talked about this.” Lavender came over and squished your cheeks, brushing away a tear. “Today is not the day to sulk about some guy who doesn’t return your feelings. Today is your day, and you’re gonna have fun with us. Don’t let some guy ruin that. Okay?”

You sniffed and nodded, not able to answer because she cupped your cheeks so solidly. Lavender smiled and kissed your forehead.

“That’s right,” She said. “We’re gonna have some dinner and dance a bit and if by then you still feel bad, we can go back to our dorm.”

“And if Harry dares to talk to you, he’s gonna know what’s it feels like to be kicked in the balls with a heel,” Parvati added dryly. You laughed.

The Great Hall was decorated with yellow, pink and purple banners, and the four long house tables had been exchanged with much smaller, round ones scattered where the staff table usually stood, on each of them a vase filled with rosa tulips and white daffodils.

The ceiling did not mirror the night sky outside but a beautiful, orange sunset lighting up the dance floor in the middle. Opposite from the many tables, on the other end of the hall, Slughorn had organised a stage with a cover band. Next to the stage hung a long parchment onto which everyone could write requests.

You spotted your Potions teacher, dressed in a bright green suit, next to Dumbledore, his robes a terrible pink, both of them writing down their song requests.

“A Galleon that Dumbledore is a Spice Girls fan,” Lavender said grinning as she had followed your eyes.

“Bet,” Parvati said, grabbing three drinks from a passing waiter. “Here. Cheers.”

The three of you clinked glasses and took a sip of the red punch – it tasted strongly of various fruits, coconut, and bitter alcohol.

You let your eyes glide further over the hall and the people that sat together in groups around the tables, some of them already eating. Secretly, you were looking for Harry, though you only discovered Ginny in between Luna and Hermione, all of them chatting happily, and a few tables behind them, Theodore.

He waved as he saw you, gesturing to come over. You forced yourself to smile and wave back at him.

“I’ll see you later,” You said, chugging down the rest of your drink.

“Tell us if he’s being an asshole,” Parvati said. “Or really any of them.”

“And have some fun,” Lavender added.

You took one last look at your friends – Parvati in her silk, almond white, slim dress, and Lavender with flowers in her hair, their arms linked together – and swallowed thickly before turning and making your way through the crowd towards Theodore, though you made sure to give the table with Ginny a wide berth.

“Hi, Y/N,” Theodore greeted you, pecking a swift kiss on your left cheek. His eyes, however, were gliding over the room filling with more and more students. “We’ve already ordered some drinks, come on.”

You took a step back after the kiss, blinking quickly, then noticed how the other people around the table were staring at you:

Pansy and Daphne eyed you and your dress dismissively, and Blaise sipped on his wine, eyebrows raised. Only Draco was slumped in his chair and chewed on a gum, not wasting a single glance at you. He looked as uninterested in this Spring Ball as you felt.

An hour ago, you sure as hell wouldn’t have believed to relate to bloody Draco Malfoy.

“Uh, hi. I’m Y/N,” You said, forcing a smile on your face and holding out your hand towards Pansy, as she sat closest to you. “I like your dress. Matches your earrings.”

That compliment seemed to leave a mark. Her judging look softened and she shook your hand.

After introducing yourself to everyone (well, except Draco, who had only shortly nodded at you), you sat down in between Theodore and Blaise, and ordered something to eat.

Pansy and Daphne were huddled together the whole time, giggling and pointing at others, while Draco raised a complaint about every meal on the menu or really any other small inconvenience that had the unfortune to be spotted by him (“I can’t eat that, it has tomatoes in it. Nothing on here is gluten free. I’ll write father first thing in the morning. Pansy, will you shut the fuck up for a second? That’s not even a real band. God, I hate this place.”).

“He’s a whiny bitch most of the time, but his family has a great holiday chalet in France,” Blaise said to you after Draco had shot you an annoyed look for asking if you should ask the band to play a different song. “Otherwise, we wouldn’t be friends with him.”

“I hope you choke on that disgusting wine,” Draco muttered, and you chuckled.

“Sure, darling,” Blaise replied, sharing a look with you. Until now, Blaise had surprisingly talked the most with you, and it turned out he wasn’t half as bad as you had always thought he would be.

Theodore on the other hand had only occasionally asked you how your meal was and how long you had planned to stay. His eyes had not held contact with yours for longer than a second and were still searching for something in the crowd, which was – by the way – having fun on the dance floor while you had not moved in almost an hour.

It wasn’t until a particularly beautiful girl from Ravenclaw strode past your table that Theodore hooked his foot around the leg of your chair to pull you closer and placed his hand on your upper thigh, giving you his full attention for the first time that night.

“Have I told you that you look very pretty tonight?” He asked, his dark eyes meeting yours.

“Er – no,” You said, darting a confused look towards the Ravenclaw girl.

“Well, you do,” Theodore went on and turned your head back to face him by stroking his thumb over your cheek before pressing his lips onto the skin beneath your ear. They felt chapped and not pleasant in any way. You cringed.

“Uh, sorry, but that’s maybe a bit early, don’t you think?” You said, drawing back and shoving his hand from your thigh.

“She’s gone anyway, Theo,” Blaise said. You did not understand.

“Who’s gone?” You asked, looking back and forth between Theodore and the others, who all seemed to know something you didn’t. Pansy giggled.

“Nothing,” Theodore said. His sweet voice had turned bitter, and you felt like that was your fault. He stood up. “I’ll get some more punch.”

The band segued from an upbeat song into a much slower one, and the light of the candles magically dimmed.

“Do you want to dance maybe?” You asked Theodore as a way to make up for your rejection, but he had already pushed past a group of chatting seventh years, not turning around.

You sank back into your chair, picking at the tulle of your dress again. Was it too early to tell Lavender and Parvati that you wanted to go back to your dorm?

“Girl, if I were you, I would get out of here as quickly as possible,” Blaise said. You looked up at him. “He’s not worth it. And he’s not here for you. So don’t waste your energy.”

“But he asked me to the ball,” You said weakly.

“Did he? Or did he just ask for some time with you to make his ex-girlfriend jealous?”

“He – well – he…”

But Blaise looked at you and you knew that he was right, that this was never about you but some other girl. It was always about some other girl.

“Excuse me, I’ll get some fresh air,” You said and made your way through the tables towards the doors.

The last time, everyone had watched him. Now it was Harry’s turn to watch everyone else try their best on the dance floor. He wasn’t sure what was worse; to be laughed at by the others while stepping on Parvati’s feet every other second or to watch not only Hermione and Ron but also Ginny and Luna, as well as Seamus and Dean dancing closely, arms around the other.

They all had no idea what they were doing, Harry could tell, but they were having fun anyway. He had never seen Hermione this happy.

“Oh, flashback.”

Harry looked up. Parvati sat down next to him on the chair that Ron had left over half an hour ago.

“Yeah,” He mumbled, taking another sip of butterbeer, and turned back to the dance floor right in time to see Dean kissing Seamus passionately in the middle of the room.

“And you are not dancing because…?” Parvati asked. Harry crossed his arms.

“If you’re here to make fun of me or to blow up my butterbeer, feel free to fuck off.”

Parvati chuckled. “Sorry about that. But seriously, why are you sitting here miserably after all those dance lessons?”

Harry tried to make out if she was actually serious or if this was her way to revenge herself for the Yule Ball.

“Are you kidding me?” He asked. Parvati narrowed her eyebrows, now visibly puzzled.

“No, I’m genuinely asking –”

“Well, it’s not that fucking easy to slow dance if you have no date, is it,” He said crossly.

Parvati gaped at him, but he was certainly not in the mood for this. It had cost him all his strength to not look for you in the crowd all evening, he did not need reminding of you not liking him back by Parvati.

Before she could say anything else, he placed his butterbeer bottle on the table and darted outside, hands shoved deeply into the pockets of his suit and eyes directed to the floor.

Harry’s feet guided him towards the courtyard. The music played by the band wasn’t as loud out here, and the cold night air was lively in contrary to the sticky, perfumed air inside the Great Hall.

He kicked some of the grass away and walked towards the bench underneath the willow, watching how its branches weighed in the wind and thought how you were probably having as much fun as his friends, or maybe even more, considering Nott was infamous for snogging in various broom closets.

Harry’s stomach turned at the thought of that. He wished he had a time turner to make it right.

The moon stood high on the deep blue night sky, illuminating the courtyard you had unconsciously walked to. Grey clouds had approached, and tiny raindrops were falling to the ground, steadily drumming onto the roofs of Hogwarts.

On your way out of the Great Hall, you had caught a glimpse of Theodore sticking his tongue down the throat of that Ravenclaw girl, but to be honest, it didn’t matter that he was making out with someone else. It would’ve just been nice if you could have had a forewarning.

You thought you were the only single soul wandering about, then spotted a figure sitting on a bench. You were about to turn and search for some other place to wallow in your feelings, when you recognised the messy hair.

Maybe this was the time to make up for running away. Maybe this was the time to be honest.

Harry looked up when he noticed someone coming closer, the tulle of your dress rustling over the wet grass. His heart jumped and he forgot to breathe for a moment.

“Hello,” You said, voice echoing over the empty courtyard. “Can I sit?”

“Of course.”

Harry scooted to the side to make some space for you. You sat down next to him, leaving maybe a hand width between the two of you. The wide branches of the willow guided you from the cold rain.

“You weren’t dancing,” You said, staring at the grass instead of his face.

You would understand if he did not want to talk, if he just walked away. He didn’t owe you an explanation for why he had not asked you to the ball or why was sitting here instead of inside with Ginny or whoever he had asked.

“You weren’t either, were you?” Harry replied. “You and Nott.”

“No, he’s busy with someone else, so… no. Not dancing.”

“Oh.” Harry shuffled. His knee bumped against yours. “Well, he’s an idiot then.”

You smiled, not moving your knee away from his.

“Yeah…but I don’t mind, really.”

“You should,” Harry said, and he meant it. No one should be treated like that. “If anyone should be dancing, it’s you.”

You looked up at him. Harry was already watching you, and it filled you with warmth despite the freezing cold. There wasn’t a single sign of hurt on his face, just a soft curiosity lying in his green eyes.

“I’m sorry,” You whispered, “for running away last Friday. I had to sort out some things.”

“What things?” He asked quietly.

“Some…” Your heartbeat sped up. Be honest, you told yourself. “Some feelings.”

“Oh.” Harry tried to figure out what you meant by that, but the way you looked at him made his mind go blank. “You mean you…”

“I really like dancing with you,” You said. Harry felt his heart beating faster than ever against his ribcage. He wondered if you could hear it. “And I wouldn’t have done those lessons with anyone.”

The music from inside the Great Hall was growing louder, overshadowing the rain; someone must’ve opened the doors to let in some fresh air. The band was playing a slower, French song and it stung in your heart. It was one of your favourites.

When you turned back to Harry, he was standing up. For a second you thought he wanted to leave, to go back inside, then –

“May I have this dance?” Harry held out is right hand, and you did not have to think twice if you should take it or not.

He helped you up from the bench and led into the middle of the lawn, the rain still pattering onto the grass and the stone tiles. It smelled strongly of petrichor, and you thought that this was much closer to spring than the decorations in the Great Hall.

Harry’s hand found its place on your back, pulling you closer to him. You placed your hand on his shoulder, tapping his skin with your finger in time to the music out of habit, and met his eyes, reflecting the moon light in them.

Had you ever told him how beautiful he was?

The two of you moved, swaying back and forth. Harry realised that he did not even need to concentrate on the steps, he knew them by heart. The closeness of you took his breath away, the way your fingers held onto his, the way there was little to no room between your torso and his. You were smiling at him, despite the cold and the rain. Harry felt his stomach tingling.

“What’s it called?” Harry asked quietly, not wanting to drown out the music.

“‘Je Te Laisserai Des Mots’. I’ll leave you words,” You translated, having memorised the lyrics in your mind. “I’ll leave you words underneath your door, underneath the singing moon. Near the place where your feet pass by…hidden in the holes of wintertime and when you’re alone for a moment.”

You paused and Harry’s eyes fell to his feet, not able to take your gaze any longer. There were words on the tip of his tongue he did not dare to say – afraid, to ruin the moment. He wanted to stay here forever.

“Eyes up,” You said, placing your hand underneath his chin to lift his head up.

More French words reached your ears; Harry figured they were the same sentence repeated over and over, but even if he had been able to understand French, he wouldn’t have been able to translate them because of your hand still resting under his chin.

“Kiss me whenever you want,” You whispered. “Kiss me whenever you want. Kiss me –”

And then, Harry let go of his fears and kissed you.

After all it still took you by surprise how he loosened his fingers from yours to cup your face, pulling you as close to him as possible, until there was no space in between, noses bumping against each other. Both of your hands slung themselves around his neck, caressing his skin and driving up through messy hair.

His lips matched yours, gliding smoothly over one another, smearing your lip gloss everywhere until all you tasted was strawberries and sweet alcohol. With his chest against yours, Harry was glad to notice your heart beating as fast as his did, though that was also because he really needed to breathe – not that he wanted to, he would have been totally okay with never breaking away from the kiss if it was always going to feel this soft and freeing.

It was you in the end that had to carefully pull his face away from yours, heavily breathing in and out. You brushed his wet hair out of his forehead and let your fingers slide over his temples and cheeks down to his neck.

“That offer,” Harry began breathlessly, tucking a strand of hair he had accidentally drawn from your pinned-up hair behind your ear, “about continuing the dance lessons…that still stands, right?”

Your lips curved upwards into a smile. “Of course.” 

“Brilliant,” Harry said, mirroring your smile before leaning down again to close the gap between your lips.

[willsimpforanyone]

heyy can i request a leo valdez x son of nike!reader headcanons or fic i don’t mind!!

ooo leo x male!reader i love it also welcome to 6:30 im documenting my lack of sleep for some reason we can blame the lack of sleep

------------------------------------------

you came second in a mechanics competition

none of the hephaestus kids were allowed to partake because obviously not

so five of them were picked to be the judges

leo valdez was the deciding vote between you and the person who came first

with the fury that came with being a nike kid you instantly hated leo

being second best wasn't good enough and he was the cause of that

so for the next few weeks your piercing glare was almost everywhere he went

until he finally decided to confront you

'yo, laser eyes, what did i do?'

you bitterly explain that you didn't get first place because he was the one that made the wrong decision

leo is confused as fuck

'and you've been mad about it... for like three weeks??'

you sigh, feeling a little silly

'well when you put it like that it sounds kinda stupid'

leo throws his head back and laughs

you ignore that it sounds musical and warm

'dude, it's one contest!'

you explain that nike kids are naturally hella competitive and hate coming second in anything

he still doesn't quite understand, but asks you very nicely to stop giving him evils

'it gives me the heebie-jeebies man, you gotta knock it off'

rolling your eyes you agree

slightly disappointed that you no longer have an excuse to stare at him because over the last few weeks you've been able to absorb his cuteness as much as you wanted

gonna have to find another excuse now

before you can really think about it, you laugh at a stupid pun joke that leo comes up with

but quickly clam up when you realise his shocked face

'what the fuck are you staring at'

he blinks

'you're, like, really cute when you laugh'

there's like a minute of slightly awkward silence before you both turn and walk away without saying a word

now normally this would be fine and you'd walk away unscathed

but just your luck that two of your siblings were within earshot

they bombard you with questions, each trying to outdo each other with teasing you

'both of you shut up! i don't like him!'

yeah that doesn't work

rather they tell the whole cabin

and it isn't long before someone issues a challenge

they bet you can't kiss leo valdez by the end of the week

that gives you five days

and unfortunately for you

a nike kid never backs down from a challenge

reluctantly you agree

the next few days consist of you making tactical, calulated approaches to get closer to leo

but as the week draws to a close, you worry you haven't got nearly close enough to find a natural point to kiss him

conversations haven't gone past generic 'how ya doin' talk

but you are not about to lose this challenge

the day the challenge is supposed to end at midnight, you grab leo and drag him into the forest

he's confused as fuck

it's awkward to explain to him the challenge

you figure it's not cheating because no one ever said you couldn't tell him about it

it takes a minute for him to say anything and you get more and more nervous

'okay dude you're kinda freaking me out, either say something or leave'

leo swallows

'um, you... do you want to kiss me or do you just want to win the challenge?'

you roll your eyes

'well, obviously i wanna win'

your heart clenches as leo's face falls and you make a decision

you were gonna be honest

'but, uh, yeah, i also kinda really wanna kiss you'

it's so quiet you worry leo hasn't heard it

with your eyes fixed on the ground you don't notice leo coming closer until his hands settle on your face and he tilts your head up

'so, adidas-'

you whine at the stupid reference but smile nonetheless

'-are you gonna kiss me or what?'

that's all you need

leo's lips are slightly dry but they're warm and you pull him closer by his suspenders

it's cliched but there are butterflies in your stomach and your heart is on fire and this feels like the greatest win you've ever had

you break away and gulp in air, chests heaving

you flinch as loud cheering surrounds you, and suddenly you're on your siblings' shoulders, getting punches of congratulations on your arms

leo is laughing his head off at your bright red face

not to worry

you'll get your revenge on him later

already your mind comes up with plans to kiss him silly

---------------------------------------

okay i kinda love this i hope you did to!

[heygutlcssa]

The head of the bed was finally elevated to put him in a more inclined position. It certainly felt better on his back but he still felt the splitting pain in his gut . He'd fought with the nurses and the one damn doctor about sitting up on one of his good days to which they all said if he took his medication ( some of which was for pain, some for infection and other purposes) he wouldn't hurt. He shot back that each pill would be out on his bill. Were they going to pay for that?

It was a simple matter of fact that Riff couldn't afford the hospital. It wasn't like he had money for this or private insurance to pay for it. The fact that he was in a private room instead of on the ward already had him anxious. He'd never not been on a ward. It definitely wasn't something he could afford and the fact that he had needed a room like this just to make it through only scared him further.

He had wanted to sit up in a chair. Whether this was the crappy wooden folding chair or the wheelchair he didn't care, just so long as he wasn't stuck in this dumb forty five degree angle. He told them he didn't sleep in a bed at home. They didn't listen. He told them he had to roll on his side before he could sit up. That hurt less. They told him that that would burst open his stitched and proceeded to pull him straight up as they manually raised the bed. Riff thought getting stabbed had been the most pain he'd ever felt , but this, as far as he was concerned, was much worse. Not only had he felt like he was being cut in half from the front, but he felt like someone was ripping out his spine. After that he didn't let anyone touch him or the bed.

The little nurse that came in happy as a clam after that and all the days after that was too damn cheerful. He'd probably scared off the other one.

She wouldn't take no for an answer. Go away didn't work and playing possum just didn't do jack either. She still made him get clean, changed his sheets , and she had messed with the window. He'd had a window at home he told her. He was proud of that window. He remembered how much Tony had hated that Riff had wanted a window. He'd promised he wouldn't do anything stupid. He found out through the police about Tony's death. There weren't many good days after that.

Today, that little nurse said something about a shower soon if the doctor approved it. He'd cracked some half hearted joke about how Grazie might feel if he was naked with another woman. Maybe being crued would make her go away. He thought she'd never leave. She'd be back later, he imagined.

As for the cops he said little and often responded nonverbally. It didn't matter, especially not after what they said about Tony. He thought maybe he'd hear it from one of the few guys that came. Or even Grazie. Maybe the cops just didn't give them a chance.

"I don't want to talk about that. " He repeated. "Ain't your business, Graz." He already wasn't looking at her. He didn't plan to have this conversation. Not when he already thought he'd be dead by now.

 @heygutlcss  /  riff  sent:  ❝  i  don’t  want  to  talk  about  it  now.  ❞

 he's  been  in  the  hospital  for  almost  a  week  now.  the  incident  that  brought  him  here  has  only  been  discussed  when  cops  swing  by  to  ask  a  few  questions.  grazie  isn't  stupid.  she  knows  she's  dating  the  most  stubborn  man  on  earth  and  maybe  she  is  a  fool  for  thinking  he'll  bring  it  up  at  some  point  on  his  own.  the  nurses  and  doctors  don't  hesitate  to  tell  grazie  just  how  much  pain  he's  in  right  now  on  the  especially  bad  days.  she  snaps  at  them  to  fix  it  then.  

 today  seems  better  though.  riff  is  as  stubborn  as  ever.  that  trait  seems  to  shine  through  bad  day  or  not.  the  moment  she  entered  the  room,  after  the  nurses  insisted  she  go  home  to  shower  and  get  some  sleep  that  isn't  in  one  of  the  horrible  folding  chairs,  there's  sunlight  bursting  in  from  the  window.  maybe  the  nurses  made  him  open  the  blinds  or  he  requested  it  himself.  either  way,  grazie  vowed  to  herself  to  take  advantage  of  this  opportunity.  

 ❝  they  said  something  about  something  you  said  to  tony  after  .  .  .  ❞  she  begins  after  a  few  of  the  normal  how  are  yous  and  do  you  feel  any  betters.  though,  she  doesn't  expect  to  get  shut  down  right  away.  with  a  scowl,  grazie  adjusts  her  seat  so  she's  right  in  front  of  his  face.  ❝  they  said  you  told  tony  to  take  the  knife  out.  ❞  the  words  seem  to  ring  around  the  room,  echoing  off  each  white  surface.  ❝  you  knew  .  .  .  you  knew  what  was  gonna  happen  if  he  did.  but  you  told  him  to  do  it.  ❞  the  familiar  sting  of  unshed  tears  fills  her  eyes.  not  now.  ❝  why'd  you  do  it,  riff?  ❞

[sweetchup]

Bi•valve

Noun

an aquatic mollusk that has a compressed body enclosed within a hinged shell, such as oysters, clams, mussels, and scallops.

AKA

The Most Common Seashell in the Ocean

————————

Vol. 2: Into the Deep // Ch. 6

Type: Poseidon x reader

Word Count: 3,000+

Masterlist

————————

Cold. That’s the only way you could describe the man in front of you.

Cold as in his eyes were like stone. As if they were dead as they stared down at you. Cold as in that you couldn’t read him, at all. Even as he was covered head to toe in blood, you had no clue what he would do next. Cold as in he was intimidating. Way too intimidating. Like a primal feeling in you was screaming danger at you. It made you want to bolt from the spot.

“Tch…” You instantly freeze as Poseidon finally lets out a sound. He glares down at you in disgust as if you were some dirt on his shoe, “My brother must be losing his mind.”

Scared, you let out a small gulp. Your throat all of sudden feels extremely dry. Brother? Was he perhaps referring to Zeus? So, that must mean this was Poseidon. Right…?

“S-So…” You pause for a moment as you decide if you should dare continue, “…Are you Poseidon?”

You shouldn’t have done that. With a loud bang, you slowly turn your head to look at the Trident he cleaved down in the sand next to you. Its harsh throw sending the sand beneath and surrounding you in the air in a huge rumble.

“Ack!” You spit out as Poseidon suddenly grabs your jaw while you are distracted. His harsh grip on you as he turned your face to look at him felt as if he was trying to crush the bone of your jaw underneath. Even though you knew it was useless, you squirm lightly underneath his grip in hopes to lessen his tight grip.

“Pathetic.” He spits out in a grumble as he watches you squirming. Letting out a small huff, he watches you for a couple of more seconds before finally releasing your jaw. A sore feeling begins to replace the pain you had previously felt. “Humans do not address a god by their name. Especially pathetic mortals such as yourself.”

You feel the need to flinch under his harsh words but thankfully stop yourself. Instead choosing to tighten your grip on Triton who still laid unconscious in your arms. You understood that what Poseidon said was partially true. A mortal such as yourself had no chance against a god, nevertheless one of his stature and power. But he still didn’t have to be so blunt about it. Even Zeus held some sort of common courtesy when interacting with you.

“Ugh…” Startled by the sound, you spin your head downwards to look at Triton who was letting out a loud groan. His face scrunched up in pain as he wiggled around in your hold to get up.

Instantly, you put your hand on Triton's chest to stop him. Worried with the amounts of cuts and blood he was covered in that he could possibly have a fatal injury, “Shh. Don’t move, Triton. It’s okay. I got you.”

Triton seems to thankfully listen to your words and stop moving, relaxing back into your arms. Instead using the energy he had left to open his eyes to look up at you. Though, as you stared down at him with concern, you could tell he couldn’t properly see you. His eyes shrinking and dilating in an attempt to see what was in front of him.

“Triton, can you see meeeE—“

Gasping, you instantly pull Triton closer to your body as you are carelessly lifted off the ground by Poseidon. The blonde male with one arm underneath your knees and the other holding your waist behind the small of your back stands up as if you two weighed nothing. Even slightly throwing you up in the air to adjust his grip. You stared confused at Poseidon whose gaze looked away from you for the first time since he arrived. Instead staring out at the waves of the sea.

As the male began to walk towards the water, you wanted to question what he was doing. Wanted to question why in the world he had picked you up and was currently holding you. Why he hadn’t killed you on the spot. Why he was walking towards the water. But chose against saying the thoughts that were present in your mind. Remembering fearfully the sharp gaze he gave when you not only called his name but also spoke out of turn.

However, you soon regret not speaking your thoughts out loud. Or, at the very least, putting up a fight.

“H-Hey! What are you?!” You screech out as Poseidon travels further into the sea. The cold crashing waves now hitting your feet and soon traveling up to the rest of your body as Poseidon continues further in. “Hey! Stop! We’-I’ll Drow—“

“Shut up.” Poseidon barks out. Even though he doesn’t bother to give you a glance, you still hear the venom in his voice and freeze up. You looked worriedly around you as the water got higher and higher, all the way up til your chest and neck.

“A-Ah.” You can’t help but let out as you see Triton’s head starts to sink underneath the water. Quickly, you fix your grip on the boy and lift his head above the water. Even if he was an aquatic god, you still weren’t sure if he could breathe underwater. However, the only problem with lifting Triton above the water is that it pushed you further under. The waves now crashing against your chin instead of your neck.

“W-Wait—“

As you gasped out your last word, your head went under. You struggled slightly as Poseidon continued to trech forward but couldn’t do much as you didn’t want Triton’s head to drop underneath the water. Even if you knew it was fruitless and Triton would eventually go under, You hoped he would wake up and make an escape.

Stupid human.

As Poseidon's head finally goes under the water and he begins to float down, deeper into the sea, he finally turns his head back to stare at you. You really were pathetic and stupid as the other humans. Lifting his son’s, Prince of the sea, head above the water as if he could actually drown. What a joke.

What in the world did his brother see in you? Making a huge show in the courtroom about how you would be the perfect substitute for Amphitrite. How everyone should at least give you the chance to be Triton’s nanny and take care of him. How you would help the child grow and shit. How you would actually pay attention to him.

Poseidon feels himself freeze for a moment before tightening his grip more on you. Your body had already began to grow limp in his arms. If he so pleased, he bet he could just tighten his grip more on your frame and you would shatter in a million pieces.

Pathetic. Pathetic. Pathetic. Pathetic. Fragile.

Poseidon grunts out in disapproval at the disgusting passing thought in his mind. You were just a pathetic being. One that would pathetically die right here.

Poseidon once again grunts as the feeling of annoyance passes by in his mind. It must have been all those stories Zeus shared at the trial while he secretly observed you two. As a perfect being he shouldn’t be so easily swindled by such thoughts. His son once again was making him weak.

This is why I stayed away in the first place, Poseidon thought as he rolled his eyes.

Slowly, Poseidon trails his hand up from the small of your back to your cheek. He tilts your head that was flopped to the side with his thumb so that you looked at him.

‘The perfect substitute for Amphitrite’. His brother sure was cruel. You were nothing but a small mouse compared to the apex predator that was his, likely, soon to be ex-wife. The minute Amphitrite lays her eyes on you she would surely kill you.

Poseidon gives your cheek a slight stroke around the bruise that was settling there. You really were pathetic, getting a bruise from such a weak grip.

Little by little, Poseidon leaned down closer to your face. His nose grazing yours slightly causes him to pause as he once again observes you. He wondered if what he would do next would end up getting you killed.

You truly were Pathetic after all. Even amongst all the humans he has met over the many millenniums. Though, he couldn’t deny, much better than the venomous Amphitrite.

I’ll just throw you away later when I’m done, Poseidon decides as he finally closes the gap. His lips swallowing yours in a harsh kiss as he brings his palm away from your cheek to wrap around the back of your neck. For once in his life being careful not to snap someone’s spine in half.

Fragile.

That thought once again passes by in Poseidon’s mind as he continues to hold you close to him. Fragile like fine china. Yet also soft…, warm… A contrast to his cold and strong marble like body. The body of a god.

Disgusting.

Finally, Poseidon pulls away, scrunching up his nose in distaste. It seems he’ll have to ‘talk’ to his brother about interfering in his personal life again. Though, it’s not like his brother ever listened to begin with.

What a pain.

—.—.—.—.—

Were you dead?

No, you were definitely still alive. For your body felt like a ton of bricks. So much so that even lifting a finger exceeded all of your energy available.

But how were you still alive?

Did Poseidon possibly save you in the end? Knowing that asshole it wasn’t likely. Perhaps Zeus swooped in at the end or Triton saved you. A possibility…but also still highly unlikely. You guessed you would have to find out for yourself.

“Ugh…” You groan out as you attempt to open your eyes only to shut them again. The light in the room felt all too blinding. That wouldn't work, you couldn’t see anything in front of you but it wasn’t like you had any other options, you would have to try again. “Shit…”

You once again attempt to open your eyes. Your vision was still hindered by the light this time but it was at the very least bearable.

Ah, that’s painful. You can’t help but hiss out as you attempt to lift your arm to cover the light coming into your eyes.

It seems you would have to wait patiently for your vision to… return…

You feel yourself freeze as something blurry comes into your view. It was blue and shiny, seeming to levitate or float towards your face.

“W-what…?” You can’t help but spit out as you stare at the thing approaching you. Blinking and unblinking as you attempt to make your eyes address what was in front of you, “A-A fish…?”

It was in fact a fish. A giant one at that, if you had to guess it was about the length of your forearm. But, how was it floating there in front of you…? Fish can only exist in wa—

“Hello My Lady!”

The…

The Fish…. Just talked.

You stared in horror at the thing in front of you. You had to be out of it, there was no way that a fish had just talked to you. Nevertheless be actually able to breathe air…

“No way…” You gasped out as you finally drifted your gaze away from the fish. Now that your eyes had finally fully adjusted, you could finally see where you were.

You were…

Underwater.

Specifically you were underwater in a fantasy noble-like bedroom: Ginormous in size, able to fit a huge bed, couch, dressers and, of course, still plenty of space to be able to walk around. The only difference from the fantasy-like bedroom that one would see in novels was that it was clearly flooded with water.

“My lady?” The fish calls once again, “Are you okay?”

“How—how? What— You…” You gasp out in confusion, only to suddenly stop and grab at your throat. How were you breathing underwater to begin with?

“M-My Lady please calm down!” The fish shouts out worriedly as it watches you panic. “I promise I’ll explain everything once you calm down.”

You pause at the fish’s words, he was correct. You had to calm down if you wanted to get to the bottom of what was going on with you. You attempt to take a deep breath to calm yourself but quickly scrap the idea as it felt way too odd to you. Instead choosing to just nod your head to get on with the fish’s explanation, “O-okay…”

“Thank you, My lady.” The fish tells you as it somehow bows, at the least what looks like a bow, “My name is Marine and I’m a Servant at Lord Poseidon’s Palace…”

So, Poseidon must have saved you. But,… why… it didn’t make sense with all he stated on the shore. Zeus or Triton must have made some sort of interference to save you.

“…Please do not worry as you are still alive and well. The reason you are breathing underwater and communicating with me is due to the blessing you gain from Lord Poseidon.”

“B-Blessing..?” You ask a gasp as you look down at yourself. Patting yourself in certain places to make sure you were all well only to let out a small groan. It seemed you were still sore and in pain.

“Please be careful, My Lady.” Marine tells you worriedly as pats you with his fin. Seeming to attempt to push you backwards so you can lay back down. Thankfully, once you comply with Marine’s request, it answers your question, “Gods can usually bestow 3 things on humans: Curses, Blessings and Ambrosia. Though this can differ from god to god based on what they can accomplish. Curses are pretty self explanatory but Blessings and Ambrosia are complicated. Blessings are gifts or abilities that are bestowed upon humans by gods. In Lord Poseidon’s case he bestowed upon you the ability to breathe underwater and communicate with sea life like other aquatic folk.”

“I see…”

“Finally, Ambrosia is what happens when a human consumes the blood of a god. If said human somehow survives the consumption, they are bestowed the gift of being a Demi-god. So far only one human has survived consuming Ambrosia and that is Lord Hercules.”

Dangerous. Not just in the way of how powerful Ambrosia is but in how many times you could have accidentally consumed it from Triton alone. Even though a God’s skin is stronger than a human’s it wasn’t by much as they could still bleed just as easily. The amount of times you had to bandage Triton’s scrapes when he tripped or bumped into something proved that.

“My Lady?”

At Marine’s call, you are startled out of your thoughts, “Ah sorry. I—“

“P-please don't apologize! You are my lady, you have nothing to apologize for.” Marine shouts out as he visibly pales, “I am your servant, it is actually my fault for disturbing you while you were clearly thinking.”

“A-ah I wouldn’t say that…” You murmured out, clearly disagreeing with what Marine was telling you. Though… You find yourself pause as a thought suddenly hits you, “Marine, Why are you calling me ‘My Lady’?”

“Why that’s because you are the new lady of the Manor.”

“T-the manor? What Manor?”

“Southern Manor, Of cours—“ Marine seems to pause at his words as he realizes something. “I sincerely apologize, My Lady. I totally forgot that since you are from the human realm that you have no idea what has happened here.”

Marine looks around the room before finally spotting what he was looking for and swimming over to it. A map…? You sit up slightly as you look over at the giant map that mount the wall above a dresser.

“At the Palace, there are 5 Manors that make up its body. Pacific Manor, The main Manor that holds the king and queen of the sea. Arctic Manor, which holds and trains the knights that protect Atlantis. Atlantic Manor, Lord Triton’s as well as any future heirs Manor. Indian Manor, which holds Lord Triton’s classes, storage and other needed rooms. And Finally, Southern Manor…., for Lord Poseidon’s Mistresses.”

“M-mistresses?!” You spit out as you shoot up from your spot. You couldn’t believe what you had just heard. In no ways would you bed Poseidon. This wasn’t what you wanted when you accepted to be Triton’s mother. You didn’t want to actually be with his father.

“P-please calm down, My Lady. You aren’t one of Lord Poseidon’s Mistresses. My Lord has never taken a Mistress ever.” At Marine’s explanation, you let out a sigh of relief. Thank goodness. “The reason I call you My lady is simply because you are now Lord Triton’s official guardian along with Lord Poseidon after Lady Amphitrite was ruled irresponsible for such duties. Due to Lady Amphitrite still not officially divorced from Lord Poseidon, she still lives in Pacific Manor. So you can not live there as of now and the second best place is here in Southern Manor.”

“O-oh…” You choke out. Though you were happy that you were officially Triton’s guardian and can still stay by the boy’s side, you weren’t sure how long you would last. Especially since you were sure that woman was now going to be out for your throat. “…but couldn’t she just come over to this Manor if she so pleased?”

“Not at all, My lady. Do not worry.” Marine informs you as it points its fin to the cluster of three manors at the top. “The Atlantic Manor, Southern Manor and Indian Manor were all originally designed to hold an intricate sea garden in the middle. This idea was later scrapped by Lady Amphitrite but, by the time she denied it, a tall metal fence had already been put up that surrounded the three buildings to keep unauthorized visitors out from the garden. Under Lord Poseidon’s watch, early this morning a sea witch put up a spell that forbade Lady Amphitrite from entering anywhere in the gated area. So she will not be able to get anywhere near you or Lord Triton.”

“Oh. Thank goodness” You mutter out as you let out a sigh of relief. Finally, you and Triton could live in somewhat peace after—

Triton…!

How could you possibly forget about what happened with Marissa? Was Triton treated for his wounds once he got back?

“My Lady, you can’t get up—“

“Marine. Please take me to see Triton. I need to see him at once!”

Author Note: Ooooop— We got a little insight on how Poseidon feels about the reader and still what in the world happened to Triton? I’m just glad Vol. 2 is up and I can’t wait for the next chapter. Yet, Triton… I miss you 😢. Come back soon in my writing, bud. We need you to lighten up the atmosphere.

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