#both from going to the same middle school and just from being in classes together

[br1ghtestlight]

its weird to think of the person i could've been if i hadnt left school when i did. not even in terms of like academics bcuz we all know that was a dead end but just..... having friends and social connections?? there were people at my high school who i was actually friends with and i just never got to see them again. it kinda sucks. like at the very least maybe i would be less lonely and isolated

[kekewrites]

Tw. Bimbo reader, dark content, noncon, dubcon, corruption kink, coercion, creampie, size kink, magic sex toy/onahole/fleshlight, loss of virginity, not proof read

***

Thinking about being a childhood friend of a yandere duo.

You were just so friendly and cute, approaching them with candies in your tiny hands and offering it to them. So kind as you always play with them, and sometimes they would argue who'd be your husband when playing house. They often fought whenever they wanted to play with you but in the end, it always results to sharing you.

Middle school was a little different than Kindergarten. They get more protective when boys try to get close to you, painting them as insufferable brats that only want clout. Being neighbors with the wealthy kids, got you too much attention much to their liking, often getting bullied whenever you finally have some alone time, but this didn't get unnoticed as you wonder why that kid who pushed you on your locker, suddenly have bandage wrapped around his head and his reputation down.

Highschool is where the shift started. You wanted to explore more, finding new friends, and hanging out with other people, and they did not like that. You were just too dumb, they said. Too dumb to realize people manipulating you so that they can get close to them. Do you even realize that the girl from your class only talks to you about them? Dumb girl.

Safe to say, you never had a genuine friend in high school, not like you even had chance to form a deep level of friendship (by people who genuinely wanna be friends with you) by the way they hog all your attention and time.

College is where it gets difficult for them to spend time with you. Different schedules, classes, course. They even insisted you go to the same university as them. It's frustrating how little time you spend together, always with your stupid excuse of "working on an assignment".

Without you around, they definitely have a hard time relieving some tension. They couldn't just walt into your room and steal some panties scoot free without getting into trouble, even though they were star students and had plenty influence over the school. No, no, they won't put their reputation to ruin, they're your perfect best friends.

Despite them being a duo, they were quite different in terms of personality. One is patient and mature, thinking logical and more on the rational side. While the other is playful, outgoing and rash. Both have their charms that got everyone around their fingers. However, they wouldn't sleep with just anyone, no. It's hard to get their dick hard, always imagining your cute face whenever they try to fuck a desperate bitch to finally release some tension.

But your impatient friend had enough of some random girl, high pitch moans that's not yours annoying his ears. It's miserable to even hump his own hand, so hard and cold, different to what he imagine your tight warm cunt to be. This just won't cut it. He needs more, to finally feel your wet insides without you knowing.

So what's a good way to relieve tension?

Some good ol' fleshlight.

The moment it arrived at his doorstep, he straight up bolted to his door. Slamming the door close as he finally gets his hands on the toy after days of waiting. Fuck, he can't wait to use this thing.

It's like the half body sex toy he used to watch in porns. He was quite impressed by the details it had, he gotta give props for that, but that's not what he's after for. After reading the instructions, more like skimming and skipping most of the words. He use lubricant, using plenty of it and spreading it around the artificial pussy lips. Rubbing and feeling the flaps, like how he usually does. It's kinda weird that he's doing this for a toy, but he could just imagine it being your cunt, practicing his moves. After a few moments did he slide his thick finger inside the walls of the toy... How weird, the texture was oddly real, like it was alive. Well, that's probably some mechanic shit that the factory put there or something. This is his first time using a fleshlight and it cost a fortune through some sketchy website so it better be worth it.

***

You jolted in your sit in class, listening to your professor's discussion about physics until you suddenly feel something brushing on your thighs. Your head panning around the room before looking ahead, brushing it off. It was probably the wind.

You yelp when something began rubbing your cunt, earning a few concern looks for you and your professor glancing at you before going back to his discussion. You shrink in your sit, head hanging low as you pressed your lips together. Confused and scared by the phantom touch assaulting your nether region. Clutching your skirt, you try to maintain confused whimpers as the touches didn't stop.

You're scared.

The moment something pushed inside you, you stand up and excuse yourself, running to the nearest restroom. Your feet quick as you open a random stall and sit on the toilet. Your breathing heavy as you shakily lifts your skirt, looking at the wet patch on your panty.

What's happening? Why are you wet? How can something touching you there? You're not imagining this, right?

Your mind raced as you become more terrified. Is a ghost haunting you? Tears pool on your eyes, sniffling as the assault become more aggressive.

***

Fuck, this fleshlight was the best thing he ever bought. How was this even made? Whatever. He continues to pump his thick finger, inserting another one and he jump a bit as he felt the walls suck on his fingers. Damn, it can even do that? Just how realistic can this toy be? He's not complaining though.

He decided to touch the clit earning another tight squeeze. What a sensitive toy. He continues to play, eventually adding another finger. It was weird how the warm walls didn't run out of lube, if this were any normal toy it'd need to be lubricated after few minutes but this toy seems to produce it on its on.

He pulls out his fingers as he inspects the inside, it's undeniable that it's fake but the way it pulsates around nothing makes it a bit questionable on how it works.

Would your cunt also look like that? He could imagine your wrecked heaving face after fingering you. Poor little you never had something inside, let alone this thick fingers. He couldn't wait for the moment he'll ruin you.

***

You're straight up crying as an additional thick sensation pumped your insides. Squeezing your thighs shut, like it's gonna do something to stop the phantom. Everything inside you screams to remove the intrusion but you didn't know how. Opening your legs slightly, your shaky fingers removing your panty to see what's happening inside your cunt... but nothing was there. Only a gape.

Your fingers shifts towards the gape, gasping as the invincible touch was able to touch you yet you couldn't even see or feel it. Squirming uncomfortably, as you open your legs more to try and get "it" out with your fingers. Uselessly grabbing air, whimpering and sobbing as you fail to interrupt with its continuous pumping. Your stomach twisting and an unfamiliar coil was starting to unravel, your breath hitching and legs shaking.

But it's abruptly stop as the phantom pulled away.

Finally, relief and a little bit of disappointment fills your chest. Slumping on the toilet, panting like you run a marathon. You shift a bit as you sit upright, freezing as something thick pokes your entrance.

No way...

Your brain panics, your gaze staring at the way your hole widens and your legs subconsciously spreading more to prepare yourself for the inevitable. You clutch the wall of the stall, each hand gripping the surface. Tears streaming down your face and your cheeks getting hot.

This can't be happening.

You felt the thick thing stretch you open.

***

Something about fucking a fleshlight should embarrass him. But nah, with you in his mind there's nothing to be ashamed. This is just practice to him after all, he'll do this things eventually.

With his heavy cock around his fingers, he taps the opening of the fleshlight. His other hand grips the hip. Rubbing along the slit, he collects lube running on the head of his cock, catching the clit in the process. He lets out a breath, as he finally starts pushing his cock inside.

He's quite big, so he's a bit worried if he'll fit in some shady toy but he's sure he'll fit in you just right, even if he had to force himself in your tiny cunt.

But there's no need for consideration when it comes to a toy.

He sheath inside in one thrust.

Hissing at the way the walls clings to him, tightly wrapping around his cock and pulsating as if rejecting a foreign object. Shit, why does it feel like a virgin?

Warm, wet, and tight. The perfect toy pussy for him, this could even rival a real pussy if he were being honest. No time for adjusting as he starts to thrust. Pounding the onahole, roughly gripping the hips and fucking hard. Shit shit shit why does this feel so good? This stupid toy feels a whole lot better compare to a random slut.

His hips going hard and the way he feels the inside pulsating, sucking all his worth making him groan. Such a tight fake cunt.

He wonder if he can break the toy.

***

With a silent scream, your head jerk up as the big stretch was too sudden for your body to take. Legs wide open as you try to create space for the large object. You sob as quiet as possible, as the phantom starts pounding hard at your sensitive cunt. You want to scream but held back, tears blurring your vision as you pray for it to end.

Whimpering and sobbing was the only thing you can do. Waiting for the thrusting to stop, you teeth bite your lip to stop noise from escaping. It doesn't sound like you at all, it's weird, you're scared and confused.

Your mind tries to think of a distraction, to think of anything but the mysterious assault. How is this even happening? What did you do to deserve this? Why you?

Your breath hitched as you feel the tight coil in your stomach again. Moaning a little as you feel pleasure rising though you. Your hands clasp over your mouth, muffling your noise. You shake your head as the coil gets tighter and tighter, your legs shaking as you stutter words of apology to whoever's doing this.

And it snaps.

Your vision going white, body stiffening and eyes going into the back of your head.

Ah. You never felt this... good before.

It takes you a few minutes to recover. Your limbs feel like jelly, your chest rising up and down in a slow manner, and you greedily gulp air.

You were tired and exhausted but you were glad the assault has stop after that. You groggily starts to lift you panty's up however you felt something dripping down your hole.

... you wonder what it was.

***

After that day, the mysterious phantom would touch you at random times, when you're showering, classes, or even in bed late at night. It was torturous, you were becoming paranoid and it didn't go unnoticed by one of your best friend.

He's helping you study in the library as you'd ask him for his guidance in physics. You would've asked your other friend, but you can just imagine him play with your hair or something along of not really helping you study.

You're breathe hitch as you feel the phantom ghost rubbing your cunt. Shrinking on your sit, uncomfortably rubbing your legs.

"Something bothering you?" He ask, looking a bit concern of your shiftiness.

"O-oh, it's nothing. Just a little tired lately," You reassured, smiling as you pretend to be fine.

His sharp gaze examined your face before dropping the subject, deciding to just help you study.

"If you need something to talk to. I'm right here, ok?"

You smiled forcefully, "I-I will... Thank you."

***

You could never bring yourself to tell someone about it. No one would ever believe you.

You're laying in bed waiting for the phantom, already memorizing the way it'll touch you. You brace for the touch as you can't help but feel helpless. Are you going to live like this your entire life? You don't want to...

But would someone be willing to listen to you? To believe you? You don't wanna bother your best friend, you knew how busy he's gotten the recent days and you're doubtful that he'll even listen to your story when he's the rational one. That means...

Your thoughts were interrupted by the intrusion as you clutch your pillow and close your eyes. You're panting as the phantom starts its routine.

You're scared... You're scared that it's starting to feel good.

No. You don't want to be alone anymore on this.

You need help. Badly.

You shakily gets up from bed, putting some jacket on as you heads towards someone who can help you... At least you believe who will do.

***

"Oh? What's my little darling doing here at this late of night?" He grins as he opened the door with the sight of you.

You fidget with your jacket as you feel small under his gaze, "P-Please help me."

He raised his eyebrow, his grin replacing with a thin line. Yeah, he's playful but he'll never joke around when you're having a problem, "Come inside, we'll talk there, sweetie."

Sitting on his couch, you took a deep breath as you prepare to tell someone about this problem of yours. He won't make fun of you right? He won't be weirded out, right? He's a reliable person and your best friend.

He sits beside you, a serious and concerned expression on his face. It was rare to see him like this, which encourage you to finally tell him.

By the end, you were crying and hiccuping in your hands about the experiences you encounter with that phantom. Feeling his hand rub your back, cooing at you in comfort. He pulls your head to rest on his chest, telling you that everything's going to be fine.

You sob out a thank you, finding relief to finally get it out of your chest.

Unbeknownst to you, the man was smiling.

***

He didn't know if God was on his side. But, he didn't expect this would happen.

Who would've thought that the toy he was playing with was connected with cute lil you?

He didn't believe it at first but the way you described the timing was too much of a coincidence. Sweet little thing, don't worry you won't experience any scary thing from now on.

"Sweetie, do you want me to chase that scary invisible phantom away?" He cups your cheeks in his hands, locking gaze with you.

You sniffle before nodding, "Y-Yes, please..."

He gave you a toothy smile before gently pushing you down on his couch. His fingers swiping away your tears, "Listen to me, ok? I need you to trust me on this." His nose touching with yours as he leans close.

"O-ok... I trust you."

Dumb little girl.

You shouldn't have said that.

Now you've sealed your fate.

***

He wonders what was going on with you back when he helped you study in the library. Something was very off about you, and you were clearly uncomfortable to brought it up.

He thinks of you very often even when he's busy and swarmed with school works. Sometimes, getting frustrated to even continue and wants to just go to your place. He massages his aching temple, resting on his chair before a box caught his attention.

Oh yeah, that stupid guy gave him that a few weeks ago.

He recalls their conversation about it, saying that it'll help him release some stress. Well, he's plenty stressed now so why don't he test it out now?

He saunters to the box, sitting on the floor to unravel it. Only to be surprised by the object inside it.

An onahole...

If he was his usual self he would've flung this across the room and throw it to the garbage bin. But sometimes he needs to be relieve as well, plus he's a man too,

He's not that picky too.

This'll do for him.

A temporary replacement while thinking of your cunt.

[sacr1ficialang3l]

Do you want a Kiss?ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ ₊˚⊹

SUMMARY: sam has a little chocolate-dipped problem. 3.6k playlist!!!

WARNINGS: teen!sam winchester. high school au. characters are minors. fluff. just a small sweet treat from me to y'all. english is not my first language! enjoy<3

Sam has a problem. An adorable, caramel-scented, knitted-sweater-clad, huge problem.

Every day for the past few weeks, you have sneaked up on him—in the library, right after class, in the middle of the hallway, once even in the principal's office—and asked the same freaking question:

“Do you wanna kiss?”

Or at least that is what he heard the first time. 

You and Sam have been “friends” ever since you were paired up for an English project. He had seen you around before, but you never spoke up in class and kept mostly to yourself. Except when he caught you walking around with three other girls—just then, you would smile and joke around, standing in the background, embarrassed but giggly, as two of them broke into song out of nowhere.

So he didn’t expect you to participate much in the assignment. He assumed he would assign you your part, you’d do it by yourself, and that would be it.

The assignment had been easy—just a simple reflection project on The Iliad—and it would have been even easier if the rest of your classmates weren’t idiots.

Because, as it turns out, only you and Sam had actually read the book—the other three teens stared at you both dumbfoundedly when Sam tried to explain what each of them had to do.So obviously, you and Sam had ended up working on the stupid project by yourselves for a whole three days—in class and after school. It should’ve been tedious and exasperating, but Sam now mentally thanks his classmates for being illiterate. 

Because for three days, he got to discuss literature with a girl who was almost as much of a nerd as he was. You had so many interesting things to say—about Achilles and his character journey, about how heartbreaking his and Patroclus’ story is (you seem to swear they are romantically involved, and even Sam is almost convinced after hearing you talk about it for two hours), and you even go on a whole rant about Helen and why she deserved better.

Dean laughs and pities him when Sam tells him about it, but what he doesn’t know is that Sam might have just fallen in love. 

You got an A on the project, of course, and ever since then, you and Sam have worked on every assignment together—whether it’s supposed to be done in groups or not. You don’t actually hang out—you just chat in class and say hello when you walk past each other in the hallway, but nothing else.

That’s why, when you suddenly approach him one day in the cafeteria with a grin and your hand hidden behind your back, and ask him if he wants to kiss, his brain stops working.

He just stares at you, eyes wide and lips parted. All his intelligence leaks out of his ears and words escape him, so he just stands there like an idiot until you give him the sweetest giggle—the smell of hot chocolate and caramel filling his nose when you tilt your head to hide your smile, his breath hitching as you take a step closer—and hand him something.

In the middle of your extended palm, he notices some kind of foil-covered drop, and it takes him a minute to understand what it is.

A Kiss. One single Hershey's Kiss.

So now he knows that you’re actually asking, “Do you want a Kiss?”

But honestly, it doesn’t make it much better.

Because you take him by surprise every time, and every time he freezes and blushes and acts like the biggest fucking loser.

“Just kiss her, Sammy,” Dean suggests unhelpfully, once he catches on to the situation. “She’s so obviously flirting with you.”

“She’s not flirting with me, Dean. We barely know each other.”

“I swear to God, Sammy. Just grab her waist, pull her closer, and kiss her. You’ll thank me later.”

But Sam couldn’t just do that, because he isn’t Dean.

He doesn’t just kiss girls. He doesn’t give them that look-at-me-I’m-so-great grin, and they don’t fall at his feet like his brother’s do. He doesn’t walk up to the first pretty girl he sees and give her some cheap pick-up line that somehow ends up working because of his stupid charm. He doesn’t make out with a girl from every single town their dad takes them to. And he definitely is not about to start now.

Don’t get him wrong, Sam has been with some girls. He’s kissed a few chicks from the multiple schools he’s attended, and he had a girlfriend back when they stayed in Michigan for a whole month. He even dry-humped a girl he was supposed to be tutoring in History in his junior year. (Dean was pretty fucking proud about that one.)

But still, Sam is more… reserved. He isn’t shy (you couldn’t be when your dad has been forcing you to speak with locals and eyewitnesses before you even learned how to ride a bike), but he isn’t confident either. He is awkward, a little socially inept from so much time spent on the road, the boy with too much knowledge about ancient mythologies and Latin. Girls approach him because he is—in a way he still can’t understand—attractive, and he doesn’t usually turn them away, but he knows better than to give in to his heart’s desire for something else. Something different than his brother’s one-night stands, something gentle, something real.

Because Sam is the boy who gets straight A’s but no one puts them on the freezer. The boy who keeps people at arm’s length because “you can’t get attached to civilians, Sammy.” He’s the boy all the professors want to praise but whose guardians never show up for parent-teacher conferences. He’s the boy who one day simply disappears from school because his dad found a new hunt in a new town.

He’s the boy who’s pretty sure something isn’t right with him.

So when he sees you, sitting there in English class—your head buried in a book, your hair falling onto your face, the sleeves of your warm brown sweater too long, the shine in your eyes too bright—he doesn’t find it in himself to ruin it.

Instead, he sits next to you quietly, gives you a small nod in greeting, and tries to keep his heart from beating out of his chest.

The teacher is talking about some assignment you will do to prepare for your next reading—Sam is looking forward to sitting in the library with you during lunch, browsing through the shelves and hearing you tell him about every book you’ve already read—when you turn to look at him.

He expects an invitation to work together, or some jab at the boy in the front row who keeps drawing dicks all over his desk, but then you lean in until your breath brushes his ear when you whisper,

“Do you want a Kiss?”

It still makes him jump, even after all this time. His cheeks flush, and his fists clench. He turns to face you with his best attempt at a glare—but it looks more like a pout—and immediately regrets it.

You’re close. Your shoulder brushes his, and your cheeks and eyelids are dusted maroon, your eyes sparkle with gold, and your breath still smells like the mocha frappe he knows you drink every morning, and you’re just so fucking warm.

Everything about you smells like coffee and books and just-baked cookies; and it tastes like cocoa and cinnamon and red velvet; and it feels like putting on your favorite cardigan and walking through mountains of orange leaves and snuggling under the covers during a rainy autumn morning.

God, what the hell is happening to him? He’s such a fucking loser.

Overwhelmed by the sweet glint in your eyes he will never get used to, his eyes move down to your hand hiding under the table. He grabs the Hershey’s Kiss with a huff, and bites back a smile at your giggle when he quickly rips the wrapper off and throws the chocolate in his mouth.

“If we miss any important instructions for the assignment, it’s your fault,” he whispers to you, eyes on the board like he’s trying not to alert the teacher but actually he’s just trying to keep his cheeks from flushing even more.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” You roll your eyes, slowly unwrapping your own sweet treat. He wonders where the fuck you get so many of them. “If we miss anything, I’m sure Mrs. Keating will have no problem repeating herself for her favorite little student,” you murmur through the chocolate in your mouth, bumping your shoulder with his.

You love to tease him about your English teacher’s clear preference for him—in your opinion. Sam knows that she likes him, but he wouldn’t say he’s her favorite, even though she always praises his essays and has offered a recommendation letter more than once.

“Shut up and pay attention,” he mutters your name, and it leaves a syrupy tang on his tongue. But if he's being honest, he loves when you tease him. It shows him that you’re comfortable with him, no longer retreating to that shell you always seem to hide in when you’re alone, stuck with the rest of your classmates.

“Another Kiss?”

“Shhhhh.”

You end up, indeed, missing some important information. So Sam has to go ask Mrs. Keating about it and watches your amusement when she happily explains that they have to do a class presentation, sending him off with a sticker that says “Otterly amazing!” next to a cross-eyed otter who looks a little demonic.

You end up spending the whole afternoon in the school’s library. There are mountains of books around the table about the 1920s’ economic and historical context in America, along with a few books you recommended to Sam and he promised to check out. You end up reading out loud for him while he takes notes in his notebook, and he fights the urge to fall asleep to your voice that wraps around him like a fluffy blanket.

By the third time Sam yawns, you decide to go buy two coffees from the vending machine in the cafeteria. You put an alarming amount of sugar in yours, and grimace when Sam decides to take his black.

“That’s how my dad and brother drink it,” he explains in a voice he hopes is not as bitter as his drink. “So I just got used to it.”

Then you nod, giving him a look so kind he doesn’t know what to do with it, and you lean against him as you two lean back on the vending machine. Both of you are quiet for a moment, sipping your coffee and staring at the cafeteria tiles, before you sigh and take a step forward.

“Come on, we gotta at least collect all the information today. We can organize the presentation tomorrow in class.”

You grab his hand. Without even looking at him, you take his left hand in your right and start to pull him back to the library. Sam’s heart skips a beat, and he lets you drag him awkwardly for a few seconds before taking two long strides and falling right into your side. But even when you don’t have to pull him along, you don’t let go of his hand.

It stays wrapped around his—fingers not intertwined, but still warm and soft and perfect. And it stays there until you finally reach the table, when you let go of him and grab the book you were reading before the break. For the first time in his life, Sam hates books.

So you keep working until the janitor warns you that the school is about to close, and by then you have collected all the information you need. You walk out of the building, hands brushing but no longer grasped, and Sam feels something inside him ache at the prospect of leaving.

Because doing research with you is a hell of a lot better than going back to the moldy motel his family is staying at—where the shower only has cold water and there’s always someone moaning in the distance. It’s cold and stinky and lonely, and he desperately wants to stay with you, where it’s cozy and sweet and lovely.

He’s getting way too attached, Sam knows. He knows this is bad, and he will have to leave any day now. But fuck, it’s so easy to just look at you and your teddy bear–like gentleness and just… crave.

Because everything else in his life is painful, and ugly, and rough.

You turn to him, smiley and gorgeous. “Need a ride?” You point toward your car.

It’s one of the few still there, the parking lot almost empty at this hour. It makes it easy to spot the Impala parked on the opposite side—the car he grew up in. Sam can see Dean through the windshield, and his brother gives him a thumbs up and one of his goofy grins before making kissing gestures with his hands.

Before you can see his idiot older brother and Sam is forced to change identities and move countries, he looks back at you.

“Nah, my brother’s picking me up.”

You nod, chewing on your lower lip and looking like you’re about to say something else before deciding against it.

“So, see you tomorrow?” Sam is about to nod when you take a step forward and kiss his cheek, once again almost sending him into an early grave. “Get home safe, Sam.”

Before he can even attempt to blurt out anything, you turn around and rush toward your car, waving Dean goodbye through the windshield before you drive past him and away from the school.

“Not flirting, huh?”

Not even Dean’s incessant teasing or his dad’s grip on a whiskey bottle bother him that night, because all he can feel is your lips on his cheek and the small bundle of fire it set on his chest.

It isn’t like the fire he feels when hunting—angry and all-consuming, or the one he feels when he stares at one of his brother’s badly hidden adult magazines—prickly and wild. This one feels like sitting near the fireplace in the middle of winter—comforting and tender and oh god so fucking addictive.

Turns out you can’t organize the presentation in class the next day because there’s a gas leak from one of the chemistry labs. “Two dudes were ‘wrestling’ and they broke a freaking pipe. I swear to God they work hard to be this idiotic.” Sam has to agree, because now you don’t even have access to the library—and his brother would be busy helping their dad with the case all day, so he can’t pick him up.

“We still have to work on the presentation,” you sigh, twirling your hair with your fingers like you do when you’re deep in thought. It’s distracting, because it makes the caramel scent float all around you—and because you keep biting your lower lip while you do it.

“We can go to the public library,” Sam offers. He had been there to help look into the lore for this hunt, and the place is small and full of little kids running around during what was supposed to be “story time hours,” but it’d have to do.

“Yeah…” You turn to look at him, still chewing on your lip, eyes more nervous than he’s ever seen on you. He’s about to ask if everything is okay when—“We could go to my house.”

You need to stop doing that, or he’s seriously going to have a heart attack one day.

That’s how he ends up here, sitting on the couch in your living room while working on a presentation about the Roaring Twenties. It’s only you and Sam—both your parents at work, no siblings—and he’s trying to force himself to act as normal as possible.

But it’s hard when you bring him a homemade mocha frappe and throw a brown knitted blanket over both your laps before you get to work. When there’s soft piano music playing in the background, chocolate chip cookies on the coffee table, and you’re so fucking close.

Your thigh brushes his under the blanket, and it’s really hard to focus on speakeasies and the prohibition. You start to plan out who will present which part, and you tease him about asking Mrs. Keating for a jazz dance. He softly pushes you away until you’re giggling and falling onto his side for support.

“Stop! Stop! I’m about to fall off the couch!” No, you’re not. You’re not even near the edge—Sam would never push you that hard—but he stops all the same.

“She doesn’t even like me that much,” he argues, mourning the loss of your weight against him when you straighten up to roll your eyes at him.

“Please, you’re the only one she gives actual golden stars on your essays, and she’s always putting you up as an example of excellence.” You do a scarily good impression of the woman. “Not that I blame her, though, when you go up to her with those huge puppy eyes and fluffy hair and cutesy smile, and talk about symbolism and foreshadowing and archetypes. Anyone would be enamored.”

The words are supposed to be teasing, just another joke. But you murmur them so close to his face, looking up at him through your lashes, your thighs brushing once again. And they sound so genuine when you mention his eyes and smile and being enamored.

Sam stares down at you, cheeks flushing and brain short-circuiting. He blinks once, then twice, then…

“Do you want a K—hmph!”

This time, he finally presses his lips to yours. It’s a little awkward—just a dry, soft peck. But then you smile against him, and when he leans away, your cheeks are red and your eyes are extra shiny.

“Took you long enough, smart boy.”

He chuckles, head falling forward in embarrassment. “Yeah, sorry.”

You shake your head, tangling your fingers in his hair and forcing him to look back at you.

“You’re so fucking cute.” He has to kiss you again, if only just to hide the way his cheeks burn.

This time it’s better. You tilt your head and move your lips against his so sweetly, and you taste like chocolate and cinnamon when he licks inside your mouth, and your sweater is fluffy under his hands as he wraps them around your waist. You pull on his hair gently, and suddenly Sam has never felt cold in his life. All he knows is warmth and caramel and the fireplace on his chest, crackling and burning steadily.

“We both know what we have to do for the presentation,” you lean back from the kiss, and Sam can barely hear your words as he looks at your lips, puffy and shiny with his spit. “What do you say we watch a movie?”

He nods, so you turn on the living room TV and put on some rom-com with a side of murder mystery Sam’s never heard about—it’s mostly cowboy and action movies in the motel rooms, and even when his brother and his father leave him alone for days on end in some cabin, he watches sci-fi and what Dean calls his “nerdy shit.”

Neither of you end up actually watching the movie, instead making out under the knitted blanket right there on the couch. Sam cages you under his body and kisses the taste of mocha out of your mouth until a honk comes from outside.

You immediately break away, and Sam has to take a minute before he can function again.

It’s Dean, ready to pick him up and take him back to the motel. Sam tries to fix his hair and make sure his lips don’t look too bitten before he makes his way out the door, not in the mood to put up with any more teasing. He picks up his backpack from the floor and mutters a small goodbye before walking away.

He’s not sure what any of this means—if you just wanted to make out or if you feel the same way he does. And even if you do, he doesn’t know what to do with that. Because he isn’t supposed to get attached, but—

“Sam!”

He stops walking at the sound of your voice, wondering if he forgot one of his textbooks by accident. You run out of your house to meet him in the driveway, the orange light from inside making you look like an angel.

You stop right in front of him and extend your palm toward him.

“Your Kiss.”

He stares at the candy for about five seconds before meeting your eyes, and he notices the smudge of chocolate in the corner of your mouth. His shoulders relax, and a smile so tender he wouldn’t recognize it as his own if he saw it in a mirror takes over his face.

He takes the Kiss from your hand, but before he can retreat, you circle your fingers around his wrist and pull him closer, granting him one last slow, sugary kiss.

“Get home safe, smart boy,” you mutter against his lips, letting go of his hand. “Learn your lines for the presentation, and maybe I’ll take you to my room instead next time.”

“Next time” echoes through his head during the whole ride to the motel, drowning out Dean’s lewd jokes and the wind coming through the windows as they speed down the road.

Next time.

NOTES: writing about teen!dean got me thinking about teen!sam and i just couldn't stop myself from writing this. this is actually inspired by a little recurring bit me and my best friend have when we eat hershey's kisses, and i just thought it would be so cute to write a little fic about it. it was supposed to be super short but as always I can't stop fucking talking.

anyway, i missed my sweet boy so much. I love dean but i'm a sam girly at heart and i just wanted to write something cutesy for my doe-eyed love.

TAGS: @littlejackles @mostlymarvelgirl @pink-ghost666 @h8aaz @otteropera @xoswiftieprincess @tinas111 @blossomingorchids @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @plasticflowersinahistorycemetery @losers-clvb @pieandflannel @southernimpala @jays-bonnie-on-the-side<3

If you wanna be tagged in future works, let me know!!

[sodaneko]

・❥・suna x gn!reader ; slightly suggestive ; second chance romance ; word count: 824

suna rintarō doesn’t get why you’re so surprised over the photo strip on the fridge. no way, you still have that? of course he does. you were his first love after all. and if he was being honest with himself (something he avoided), you were his last, too. in all these years after you broke up there was no one who got even close to replacing you. so yeah, he kept the memory from when you squeezed into that photo booth together after school; your uniforms a bit rumpled, a lollipop dangling from the corner of your mouth, lipstick marks all over his face. you were so happy back then, young and naive and so, so head over heels in love. 

now you’re older and more beautiful than ever and your eyes light up when you spot him from across the room at the class reunion. it’s been years but his name still rolls off your tongue the way it used to, and even though you changed your perfume (he can tell) your familiar scent still lingers on you when he buries his face in your hair, strong arms coming to wrap around your middle and pulling you close. he has been a fool for ever letting you go. osamu, his roommate and witness to the scene, shoots him a knowing glance before giving you both some space. suna’s whole world just shrunk down to the size of you in his arms anyway. 

you talk. you talk for hours while ignoring everyone else, your knees nudging against another under the table, your pinkies almost touching while his hand rests next to your glass, his eyes flickering down to your lips for a brief moment until you ask him if he wants to get out of here; his heart in his throat when he nods and your hand slips into his like muscle memory. he’s not drunk but he feels lightheaded, like he’s in a dream where he gets to have you again. 

suna fumbles for his house keys while trying to recall if he cleaned after himself before he left or if osamu’s boxers are still on the bathroom floor as they always are, but his mind goes blank the moment you tangle your hand in his hair and pull him down to your lips. there’s a certain despair to the kiss, as if you’re both afraid that it’ll just be another faint memory once the sun rises again. the door clicks open and suna shoves you inside, pushing you against the nearest wall, one leg slotting between your thighs before he kisses you back with hunger, slender fingers cradling your face. you’re clawing and biting at each other with fervor, and by the time you make it to his bedroom you’re already panting and moaning his name.

and when morning comes you’re still there in his arms, lying on top of him, feeling his heart drum against his ribcage as if it’s trying to find a way back to yours. he presses a kiss to your jawline and the side of your neck before rolling you over, pinning you underneath him. you still giggle and laugh the same way you used to and suna thinks that he never stopped loving you, not even a bit. it’s still there, unfurling in his chest, blooming into you. you sigh into his open mouth when his fingers find your sweet spot again, taking you apart like something holy once more, again and again, too afraid it will be the last time he gets to have you like this.

it’s already noon when he carries you over to the kitchen, putting you down on the counter while he roams the cabinets for something to eat. with osamu as his roommate he doesn’t have to search for long, but your attention is already elsewhere, pinned to the fridge door and the photos adorning it. we look a lot like we did back then, don’t we? suna huffs out a laugh but you’re not wrong; you, wearing his crinkled shirt and nothing else, an unlit cigarette dangling from the corner of your mouth, and his face covered in your lipstick marks–even the shade is identical.

he grabs his phone and leans into you, your arms coming to wrap around his neck and your cheek squished against his as you laugh without a single worry in the world. the camera shutter clicks. the past repeats itself in the tiny kitchen and the love is still there, never left, just orbited around the sun to grow tenfold in size. suna will forever love you, his lips brushing against your knuckles and the inside of your wrist before he finds your mouth again, the unspoken promise pushed between your parted lips, the silent plea on the tip of his tongue. 

love me back. love me like you used to. love me as if it never hurt. love me, love me, love me.

[vibelladonna]

✑ 𝓃𝓊𝓂𝒷 𝜗𝜚 𝓉𝓀𝒶𝓉𝒷 𝓂𝑒𝓃

𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: Some people fall apart quietly. You were one of them. The weight of existence had always been relentless, pressing down on you like an unseen force no one else could feel.

A lifetime of existential crises, quiet detachment, and numbness that never truly faded—it all led you here. To your quiet space, where the world was silent, where you could exist without pretense, without expectation. But solitude was never yours to keep.

Not when they noticed.

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔: 18+ NO KIDS (Adults Only) This content contains mature themes unsuitable for children. Please respect the creator's intentions. 

soooo, Is it bad to turn to my "middle school” playlist just to feel something? I’ve been staying positive and relaxing on spring break; I need to be in my feelings when writing stuff like this. T-T

[ 𝓂𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉 ]

✑ 𝒸𝓇𝑜𝓌𝑒 

Jericho has a way with words to make you feel better.

You sat in the deepest part of the library, a place so tucked away that even the dust seemed undisturbed. It was quiet—too quiet, maybe—but that was the point. No one came here. 

No one except, apparently, Crowe.

"You're only here out of pity."

You didn’t bother looking up when you said it. You didn’t need to. The sound of his footsteps had already told you it was him before he even spoke.

There was a beat of silence. Then a soft exhale as Crowe dropped into the seat across from you, the chair creaking slightly under his weight. You knew that exhale—it was the same one he let out whenever he was frustrated but trying not to show it.

"You’ve been avoiding me." His voice was steady, but there was an edge underneath.

"I’ve been busy."

He let out a short, humorless laugh. "That’s bullshit, and we both know it."

You clenched your jaw. You didn’t need this right now. You didn’t need him looking at you like that—like he saw right through you.

Crowe leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. His eyes, usually so unreadable, had that sharp focus he got when he was putting the pieces together. 

"You stopped showing up to class. You dropped out of clubs without telling anyone. I damn near had to get our friends to track you down, because no one knew where the hell you were."

You flinched, just barely. So he had noticed. Of course, he had.

“Thier, not my friends—I don’t see why you care so much." You finally looked at him, your expression blank. "You don’t have to play the role of the concerned friend, Crowe. You can go back to your life now. I’ll be fine."

His jaw tightened, and for a second, you thought he was going to snap at you. But instead, he just ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. "That’s what pisses me off," he muttered.

"What?"

"You think I’m here out of pity."

You scoffed. "Tell me I’m wrong, then."

Crowe’s fingers tapped against the table—a small habit of his when he was thinking, calculating. Then, without warning, he reached forward and grabbed your wrist. His touch was gentle but firm, his thumb brushing over the edge of your sleeve where the fabric was just slightly worn from being pulled down one too many times.

"I don’t do pity," he said quietly. "I don’t waste my time on people I don’t give a shit about. And I sure as hell wouldn’t be here if I didn’t care."

His grip wasn’t tight. 

You could pull away if you wanted to. 

But you didn’t.

"You keep pushing people away," he continued, his voice softer now, almost tired. "But I’m not going anywhere, no matter how much you try to make me."

Something in your chest ached at his words, but you shoved it down, deep where it couldn’t touch you. You didn’t want to believe him. Because if you did—if you let yourself think, even for a second, that someone actually cared—what would happen when he eventually got tired of you? When he realized you weren’t worth the effort?

You swallowed, forcing your voice to stay even. 

"You’re wasting your time, Crowe."

He studied you for a long moment, then let go of your wrist, leaning back in his chair.

"Maybe," he said simply. "But that’s my choice, isn’t it?"

The worst part? He said it like he meant it.

Crowe didn’t move from his seat, didn’t take his eyes off you. He let his words settle between you, filling the heavy silence. You hated it—hated the way he just sat there, like he wasn’t going to leave no matter how much you wanted him to.

Or maybe, deep down, you hated that part of you didn’t want him to leave at all.

He sighed, rubbing a hand down his face before leaning forward again, arms resting on the table. His voice softened. "You really think that little of yourself, don’t you?"

You opened your mouth to argue—to throw back some cold, dismissive remark that would push him away—but you hesitated. Something about the way he said it, like it wasn’t an accusation but just… sad, made your throat tighten.

Crowe didn’t wait for an answer. He just shook his head, like he was trying to figure out how the hell to get through to you.

"You act like you're nothing, like people only keep you around because they feel sorry for you. But that’s bullshit. You’re the smartest person I know, and not just in that textbook way—you're sharp. You see things other people don’t. And you're not just smart, you’re…" He exhaled, searching for the right words. 

"You’re strong. Even when you don’t feel like it."

You scoffed, but it came out weaker than you meant it to. "That’s a nice way of saying I’m stubborn."

Crowe let out a soft laugh. "Yeah, you are. But that’s part of it. You don’t just roll over when things get hard. You keep going, even when you think you don’t have it in you." He leaned back, running a hand through his hair. 

"And I hate that you can’t see that. I hate that you think so little of yourself when I—" He stopped himself, sucking in a sharp breath.

You stared at him. "When you what?"

Crowe hesitated. His fingers tapped against the table again, a steady rhythm. Then, finally, he met your eyes. "When I think the world of you."

Your heart stuttered in your chest.

"You matter," he said, and he said it with such certainty it almost hurt. "You’re not some burden. You’re not some pity project. You’re—you’re you. And that’s enough. That’s always been enough."

Your hands curled into fists in your lap. You didn’t know what to do with the warmth creeping into your chest, didn’t know how to process the way he was looking at you—like you were something worth holding onto.

"Crowe—"

"I mean it," he cut in before you could come up with some excuse, some way to dismiss it. "And I’ll keep saying it until you start believing it yourself."

Crowe’s eyes softened as he watched you, but there was something else there too—something unshakable, something that made your chest ache in a way you weren’t ready for. 

You looked away, focusing on the grain of the wooden table, on the faint scratches left behind by years of students who had sat here before you.

You weren’t feeling those feelings anymore. Not really. Not the way you used to. It was like a switch had been flipped somewhere along the way, like something inside you had just… shut off.

And that scared you.

Because even the pain, the hurt, the exhaustion—at least it had been something. At least it had been real. But now? Now it was just numb. Like you were watching your own life from behind a glass wall, unable to reach through, unable to touch anything.

Crowe must have noticed something shift in your expression because, before you could pull away, he reached out—slow, deliberate. His fingers brushed against your chin, tilting your face up until you had no choice but to meet his gaze.

"Hey." His voice was quiet, careful. Like he was afraid you might disappear if he said the wrong thing. "Where’d you go just now?"

You swallowed hard, blinking against the sting in your eyes. "Nowhere."

His thumb traced the edge of your jaw, the warmth of his touch grounding in a way you weren’t used to. Crowe never pushed, never forced his way in—but he had a way of making you feel seen, even when you didn’t want to be.

"You’re lying," he murmured, his grip steady but gentle. "And I get it. I do. But whatever it is, you don’t have to go through it alone."

You wanted to believe him. You wanted to let the words sink in, to let yourself reach for the warmth he was offering—but the weight in your chest was too heavy.

"I don’t feel it anymore," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t feel anything."

Crowe’s fingers twitched against your skin, his grip tightening just slightly as if grounding himself in the moment. A flicker of something unguarded passed through his eyes—raw, desperate, something he couldn’t put into words. It was brief, barely there, but you caught it.

And then, before you could pull away before you could disappear into yourself again, he leaned in.

His forehead hovered just over yours, close enough that you could feel the warmth of him, the steady rise and fall of his breath. He wasn’t forcing you, wasn’t taking anything—just waiting, holding steady, like he’d stand there forever if that’s what it took.

"Then let me feel it for you."

His voice was hoarse like the words physically pained him.

"Let me hold it until you can again."

Your breath hitched, something inside you cracking at the weight of those words. You weren’t sure what broke first—your resolve, the numb wall you’d built, or the illusion that you could keep pushing him away forever. But in that moment, something shifted.

His thumbs brushed over your cheekbones, slow, deliberate, like he was memorizing you—like he wanted to make sure you were still here. His hands weren’t trembling, but there was a tension in them, a silent plea he wasn’t voicing.

"You don’t see yourself the way I do." His voice was rough, edged with frustration, and something deeper, something almost unbearable.

He let out a slow breath, his forehead dipping against the side of your head, like the weight of what he said was too much to hold upright. "And that pisses me off."

That alone almost made you laugh. A quiet, breathless sound—more disbelief than humor.

Your throat tightened, and your chest ached. Your eyes burned. But you didn’t cry. Not yet.

Because for the first time in what felt like forever, someone wasn’t just telling you that you weren’t alone. 

Crowe just proved it.

✑ 𝓈𝑜𝓁

Sol had never thought it would be this hard to find you.

He’d skipped his own classes to track you down, not bothering to tell anyone where he was going, not caring that the clock was ticking and he was supposed to be somewhere else. But when he’d gone to your usual spots on campus and asked around, there was no sign of you. 

His heart had dropped lower with every dead end. When he reached your apartment, his gut twisted—he’d thought, maybe hoped, that you'd be somewhere else, somewhere safe, surrounded by other people. But you weren’t.

Sol knocked, but there was no answer. His breath came out in a frustrated puff. His instincts told him to push through, and he did. He twisted the knob, relieved to find the door unlocked, but he froze when he stepped inside.

The apartment was quiet. 

Too quiet. 

The only sound was the faint hum of an old air conditioner, the muffled traffic from outside the window. Everything felt still as if the space itself was holding its breath.

He moved cautiously through the small apartment, eyes scanning the room for any sign of you. There were books scattered across the coffee table, dishes piled up in the sink. It looked like you hadn’t been taking care of yourself. Not for a while.

He moved down the hallway, his heart pounding in his chest, as his gaze landed on the bathroom door—half-open, as though you hadn’t bothered to close it completely.

He stopped, instinctively bracing himself before stepping into the room.

The scene before him stopped him in his tracks. 

You were sitting in the bathtub, your knees drawn up to your chest, your arms locked around them as if you could hold yourself together that way. The water was still—too still. It was clear, untouched, yet it seemed to be drowning you all the same. Your hair clung to your face, soaked, strands matted and heavy. You hadn't moved for so long that the water had become cold against your skin, but you didn't care.

Your face was hidden, your eyes closed, and for a brief moment, Sol couldn’t tell if you were asleep or… if you were gone.

A cold panic surged through him, piercing through his chest like ice. His heart stuttered in his ribcage as his breath hitched. He didn’t care about anything else—he just needed to know you were still there, still breathing.

Sol rushed forward, reaching for your shoulder, shaking you lightly at first. But when you didn’t respond, the fear in him began to twist, hard and tight. He shook you again, harder this time, his fingers gripping you with urgency, his voice raw with anxiety.

"Hey." His voice was a whisper, but it trembled with the weight of his panic. "Hey, you okay?"

You jerked awake with a startled shout, your body stiffening in alarm, and immediately you pushed away from his touch. Your eyes flashed open—wide, but unfocused. The fear in your voice was sharp, raw, and you barely registered that it was him standing over you.

"Stop! Go away!" You snapped, your voice thick with exhaustion and frustration. It was bitter, the kind of bitterness that had been accumulating for days, weeks, months. 

The weight of everything you were trying to hide, trying to bury, came spilling out with those words.

Sol froze, his breath catching in his throat. His hands shook as he stood over you, watching your form curl into itself. Your clothes were soaked, clinging to your skin like a second layer, and your hair dripped onto your shoulders, wet strands sticking to your face. 

He couldn't bear to see you like this—this distant, this unreachable.

"What’s going on with you?" Sol demanded, his voice firm but laced with the underlying concern he couldn’t hide. His brow furrowed, and there was a weight in his tone like he was pleading without saying it. 

But you didn’t answer. 

You just turned your face away, pushing your hair back with a dismissive motion, trying to rid yourself of the mess both in your mind and around you.

The silence stretched between you both, and Sol’s patience started to wear thin, a hint of frustration creeping in despite his worry. He rolled his eyes, not at you, but at the situation itself. He couldn’t stand the way you kept pushing him away, pretending that you didn’t need help, pretending that you didn’t need someone to care.

Without waiting for an answer, Sol turned on his heel and went to the linen closet. You barely noticed his movements at first, too lost in your thoughts to even register that he had left. 

When he returned moments later, however, he had two freshly folded towels in his hands.

You blinked, your mind foggy as you tried to piece together how he had found them so quickly. You were lost, disconnected from everything but the fog of your head.

You sighed, exasperated, the weight of everything suddenly pulling at your chest again. "Go away." The words were barely more than a whisper, but they felt heavy on your tongue.

Sol didn’t budge. He took a step closer to the tub, his brow set in determination. But before he could say anything, you pushed him away, your hands weak but insistent.

"I don’t want you to touch me."

His expression softened, but the concern was still there, etched into every line of his face. He stood still for a moment, allowing you the space you wanted. 

You were pulling further into yourself, retreating, and he hated that. But he wasn’t leaving—not until you saw he wasn’t going anywhere.

Sol stood there, his gaze hardening as he watched you pull away, trying to retreat further into yourself as if you could escape the moment. That familiar edge of anger sparked in him—the kind that always flared up when he felt helpless. 

When he could see you falling apart right in front of him, all he could do was stand there and watch you push him away

"Try me," he growled under his breath, his voice low and controlled, but the roughness in it was undeniable. It was like he couldn’t hold back the frustration anymore, the pain of seeing you like this, watching you destroy yourself without any help, without any sign that you even wanted to fight it.

He took a step closer, his heart pounding louder with every second. 

The sound of it was deafening in his ears, but it only pushed him forward, closer to you.

You turned your face away, but Sol wasn’t having it. He reached out with firm, purposeful hands and grabbed your wrist, not roughly, but with a hold that wouldn’t allow you to pull away. His fingers brushed over the raised scars on your skin, and he sucked in a sharp breath. 

The reality of it hit him harder than he was prepared for, like a slap to the face. He swore under his breath, the anger shifting to something darker, something he couldn’t fully express.

"Why?" he asked, quieter now, almost afraid of the answer but still needing to hear it. His voice wavered with a vulnerability he wasn’t sure he wanted to show, but it slipped out anyway. He couldn’t help it—he needed to understand. 

Why did you keep doing this to yourself?

You remained silent, your lips pressed into a thin line, a stubborn refusal to give him any of the answers he was desperate for. His grip on your wrist tightened just slightly, as though he was trying to tether you to him, not letting you slip away.

"You can talk to me," Sol said, his voice softer, more pleading now, despite the cold anger still simmering under the surface. "I don’t care how messy it is. I don’t care how bad it’s been, or how bad you think it’ll sound. Just—don’t do this. Not alone. Not anymore."

His words hung in the air, fragile and thin, like a thread that could snap at any moment. And for a fleeting second, you almost wanted to reach for it. 

Almost. But you didn’t. You couldn’t.

 The thought of letting someone see you like this, letting them truly see the mess inside—you couldn’t do it. You couldn’t let anyone in.

"I don’t need saving, Sol." The words came out cold, clipped like you were trying to freeze everything between you both. But even as you spoke, your voice trembled, betraying you.

Sol didn’t flinch. Didn’t pull away. If anything, his hold on your wrist tightened just a little more, like he was trying to keep you anchored to him, trying to keep you from disappearing into yourself.

"Good," he said softly, his voice steady but filled with an honesty that almost took your breath away. "‘Cause I’m not trying to save you."

He stepped even closer, his breath shallow as he dropped down to sit beside the tub, his body close enough that you could feel the warmth of him, even with the chill in the air. 

His face was just inches from yours now, his gaze locked on yours. 

"I just don’t want to lose you." His voice cracked on the last word, and for a moment, it almost felt like everything else stopped. His words were simple, but they hit deeper than anything else he could’ve said. 

He wasn’t trying to fix you. He wasn’t trying to save you. 

He just didn’t want to lose you.

Sol let the silence stretch between you, the weight of his words pressing down like a hand around your throat. His grip on your wrist loosened, but he didn’t let go, his fingers ghosting over the scars with an almost reverent touch. His breathing was slow, controlled—but you could feel the tension radiating off of him.

Then, without warning, he moved. Swift and sure, like he had already decided what to do before you could even react.

He grabbed the towel he had brought earlier, shaking it out before reaching for you again. You stiffened, instinctively trying to shrink back, but Sol didn’t give you the chance.

"Enough." His voice was firm, brooking no argument as he pulled you forward, wrapping the towel around your shoulders. The fabric was thick and warm against your soaked clothes, a sharp contrast to the chill in the room.

You didn’t protest when he dragged you up. Maybe you were too tired. Maybe you didn’t want to fight him on this anymore. The moment your legs wobbled from the sudden movement, his arms wrapped around you, pressing you against his chest.

The warmth of him was suffocating.

"You’re shaking," he muttered, tightening his hold. His fingers dug into the fabric of the towel, pressing into your back as though he could physically hold you together. "Jesus, Pumpkin… what the hell are you doing to yourself?"

You swallowed, your throat dry. You could feel the steady thud of his heart against your ear, and could hear the controlled breaths he was forcing himself to take. But it was the slight tremor in his voice that made you feel like the worst person in the world.

You didn’t deserve this.

You didn’t deserve him.

Your hands twitched at your sides, unsure whether to push him away or hold on. But you didn’t move. You couldn’t. His warmth was a stark contrast to the coldness you had wrapped yourself in for so long, and for once, you let yourself feel it.

"Why are you here, Sol?" Your voice was barely above a whisper, cracking at the edges.

"Why the fuck wouldn’t I be here?" He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark and unreadable. "You think I’d just ignore this? Ignore you?"

You opened your mouth, but no words came out. What were you supposed to say? That he should have ignored this? That it was easier that way?

Sol exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair before cupping the back of your head, forcing you to look at him. His fingers wove into your damp strands, grounding you with his touch.

"Hey now," he said, voice firm, unwavering. "If you think for a second that I’m gonna sit back and let you drown in this—" his grip on your hair tightened slightly, quiet desperation seeping into his words—"you don’t know me as well as you think you do."

The guilt hit like a punch to the gut.

You tried to look away, but he didn’t let you. His grip was gentle but firm, his thumb brushing against the back of your neck in a way that made you shiver.

"I don’t need saving," you repeated weakly, but it felt like a lie now.

"Yeah?" Sol’s lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smirk, wasn’t quite a frown. "Then tell me—if I leave right now, if I walk out that door and don’t come back… are you gonna be okay?"

You opened your mouth to snap yes, to shove him away and tell him to leave you the hell alone. But the words caught in your throat.

Sol’s eyes softened, but there was something sharper lurking beneath. Something calculating. He saw the hesitation, the way your lips parted but no words followed, and he seized the moment.

"That’s what I thought," he murmured, his breath ghosting over your forehead.

You clenched your jaw, hating how easily he could tear through your defenses. Hating how right he was.

He sighed, his grip on your hair finally loosening as he rested his forehead against yours, his voice dropping to a near whisper.

"I’m not going anywhere, Pumpkin." His tone was softer now, almost tender—but there was something unshakable beneath it, something that made it clear you didn’t have a choice in the matter.

"So stop trying to make me."

You hated how much you wanted to believe him. How much you wanted to fall into this warmth, this safety he was offering. But deep down, you knew—this wasn’t just concern.

This was possession.

And Sol had no intention of letting you go.

✑ 𝑔𝑒𝑜

Geo wasn’t the type to care about people’s problems.

At least, that’s what he told himself. It was easier that way—easier to stay detached, to keep his own peace intact. But you?

You made it impossible to ignore.

It wasn’t anything obvious. You still showed up, still spoke when necessary, and still wore that same carefully constructed expression that kept everyone from prying too deep. The others didn’t see it—they weren’t looking hard enough.

But Geo? He noticed.

The way your laugh didn’t quite reach your eyes anymore. The way you lingered at the edges of conversations, only half-present. The way your shoulders carried just a little more weight than usual.

It pissed him off. Not at you—but at whatever had put that weight there in the first place. And the fact that no one else had noticed? That made it worse.

So when you weren’t in your usual spots after classes, he felt it. The unease settled into his chest like an itch he couldn’t scratch, and no matter how much he wanted to brush it off, he couldn’t.

Fine. If you weren’t going to say anything, then he’d figure it out himself.

The library? Empty.

Your club meetings? No sign of you.

Geo’s jaw tightened, his annoyance growing the longer it took. But then—then he found you.

The university greenhouse.

The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and fresh blooms, the warmth of the sun filtering through the glass ceiling above. And there you were, sitting on a worn stone bench, eyes closed, shoulders relaxed in a way that felt almost unnatural.

For a second, he just watched.

You looked peaceful. Or maybe… maybe you were just pretending to be.

Geo hated that he couldn’t tell.

With a sigh, he shoved his hands into his pockets and stepped forward, his footsteps quiet against the greenhouse floor. He didn’t say anything at first, just standing there like he was waiting for you to notice him. When you didn’t, he clicked his tongue in irritation.

"Didn’t think you were the type to nap in the middle of the day," he muttered, his voice just loud enough to cut through the stillness.

Your eyes flickered open, but you didn’t look surprised. Like you had already known he was there.

"Not napping," you murmured, voice slow, distant. "Just… thinking."

Geo sighed. "Yeah? And how’s that going for you?"

You exhaled through your nose, shaking your head slightly. "Too loud."

Geo frowned at that. The greenhouse was silent—just the faint rustling of leaves and the distant hum of the fans overhead. But he knew that wasn’t what you meant.

He moved closer, his gaze sharp as he took you in. The way your fingers curled slightly against the stone bench. The way your shoulders were tense, even if you were trying to look at ease. The way your eyes had that tired look—the kind that sleep wouldn’t fix.

Yeah. Something was wrong.

And it was worse than he thought.

"...You gonna tell me what’s going on, or do I have to drag it out of you?" His tone was casual, but there was an edge beneath it.

You huffed, shaking your head. "Nothing’s going on."

"Liar."

That made you pause.

Geo sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Look, I don’t do the whole ‘prying’ thing. But when someone who’s usually pretty good at keeping their shit together suddenly starts falling apart under the radar? Kinda hard not to notice."

You tensed, and he caught it immediately. He was right.

"...You’re imagining things," you muttered, but it was weak.

Geo just scoffed. "Yeah? Then why are you out here, alone, sitting in a greenhouse like some tragic main character?"

You shot him a glare, but he just raised an eyebrow, unfazed.

"Thought so," he muttered.

Silence stretched between you.

You swallowed hard, your gaze fixated on the greenhouse floor, tracing the cracks between the stone tiles like they held answers you couldn't find anywhere else.

Geo wasn’t the type to comfort. He wasn’t the type to pry, either. If you wanted to talk, you would. If you didn’t, fine—he wasn’t going to beg for your feelings. But he also wasn’t going to pretend he didn’t see what was happening to you.

And for some reason, that made it worse.

"Listen." He exhaled sharply, his voice carrying that familiar edge of impatience, but not with you—never with you. More like he was frustrated at the situation itself, at the fact that he even had to say this.

"I don’t care what it is. I don’t care if it’s stupid, or if you think I won’t get it, or whatever excuse you’re using to keep your mouth shut." He leaned back against the bench, just close enough to remind you he was here, but not close enough to smother you. "Just don’t sit here acting like you’re fine when you’re clearly not."

His voice wasn’t soft. It wasn’t kind. But it was real.

And for some reason, that made it harder to breathe.

Your throat felt tight, something hot building behind your ribs, but you forced it down. You were good at that—at shoving things so deep inside yourself that they didn’t exist anymore. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself.

Geo let out a slow, heavy sigh, his shoulders rising and falling as if this whole thing physically exhausted him. "I don’t like worrying about people," he muttered. "Kinda hate it, actually."

His words shouldn’t have stung, but they did.

His eyes flickered toward you, sharp but unreadable as if debating whether to say the next part.

"But you?" His voice dipped lower, quieter, but somehow heavier. "Yeah. You make that shit real hard to avoid."

That did something to you.

You weren’t sure what exactly, but it hit deeper than you wanted it to. Deeper than you expected it to.

Your fingers curled slightly in your lap, gripping at the fabric of your clothes like you could anchor yourself there. "I don’t mean to," you murmured.

"I know." Geo leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His expression remained unreadable, but his voice softened—not in the way people spoke to you with forced pity or careful concern, but in a way that felt... real.

"...Doesn’t change the fact that I still do."

And then—plink.

The first raindrop struck the glass above, a soft, barely-there sound. Then another. And another.

Within moments, the greenhouse filled with the rhythm of rainfall, steady yet heavy, each drop echoing against the glass panels. The scent of damp earth rose around you, rich and grounding, as the world outside blurred into a hazy wash of gray.

Geo exhaled sharply, arms crossing over his chest.

Of course, it had to start raining.

The timing felt cruel in a way—like the universe had been watching the whole time and decided this moment needed an extra layer of weight.

Neither of you moved. Neither of you spoke. But in the quiet of the downpour, in the stillness of the greenhouse, something in the air had shifted. The truth was, he wasn’t the type to comfort people. Wasn’t the type to sit around and hold hands, whispering empty reassurances. 

It wasn’t something he was used to. 

It wasn’t something he did.

Silence stretched between you, thick with something unspoken. The only sound was the rain pattering against the greenhouse glass, the steady rhythm filling the space between words you couldn't say.

Your chest ached. Not in a sharp, unbearable way—but in a dull, bone-deep exhaustion that never seemed to fade, no matter how much you tried to ignore it.

"...Classes are draining." Your voice barely rose above a whisper, but somehow, it felt deafening. "I feel like I go through them in a daze. Like I’m there, but I’m not."

Geo didn’t say anything, but you could feel his gaze burning into you. So you kept going because now that you started, it was hard to stop.

"I wake up, I go to class, I do what I have to, and then... I just exist." You let out a hollow laugh, shaking your head. "And it never means anything. I don’t feel anything. I just... am. And I don’t even know if that matters anymore."

Your hands clenched tighter, knuckles turning white. The words felt too big, too raw, too exposed. It was terrifying.

And for the first time, you dared to look at him.

Geo’s jaw was tight, his fingers twitching against his knee like he was holding himself back. His usual sharp, cocky demeanor had faded into something else—something serious. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself.” His voice was quiet, but firm.

You didn’t look at him. “Doing what?”

His jaw clenched. "Acting like you don’t matter."

The silence that followed was thick—almost suffocating. And then, you laughed. Bitter, empty.

“Because I don’t.”

Geo stilled. The way you said it like it was just a fact like it wasn’t something that should sting—it pissed him off. He turned his head, eyes narrowing as he studied you, taking in the way your shoulders curled inward, the way your hands clenched in your lap like you were bracing for something. Like you believed what you just said.

Geo clicked his tongue. "Bullshit."

Your fingers twitched, but you didn’t say anything.

Geo exhaled slowly, dragging a hand down his face. He wasn’t good at this. He didn’t have the right words, the right softness people probably expected in moments like these. But he did know one thing.

His fingers moved before his mind fully caught up, wrapping around your wrist with a gentleness that contradicted the sharp edge in his expression. His thumb traced over the fresh marks you had tried so hard to keep hidden, his touch warm against the raised skin.

Geo didn’t say anything at first, just staring—his face unreadable, but his grip steady. Then, his jaw tensed, his voice coming out quieter than before, rough with frustration.

"You matter to me."

Your breath hitched. Something in your chest tightened, an ache you couldn’t quite place.

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you turned your face away, shaking your head. "You’re wasting your time."

Geo scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Then let me waste it."

Before you could react, Geo pulled you forward, shifting you into his lap like it was nothing, like he had already decided you weren’t going anywhere. His grip was firm but not forceful, an unspoken message that he wasn’t about to let you slip away—not now, not like this.

Your breath hitched at the sudden closeness. His face was just inches from yours, the warmth of his skin brushing against the coldness that had settled deep in your bones. You could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest, hear the faint hitch in his breathing as he realized just how close you were.

He still didn’t let go of your wrist. If anything, his fingers curled slightly, holding you there like an anchor, like some stubborn part of him thought that if he kept you close enough, he could stop you from drifting any further.

Geo’s expression was the same as always—mildly annoyed, slightly flushed—but when he tried to speak, he faltered. “I—uh, I just—”

His voice caught. He clenched his jaw, his usual sharp confidence replaced by something uncharacteristically awkward. His ears burned red, his gaze flickering away for half a second before snapping back to you. For the first time in your life, you saw Geo flustered.

And it was hilarious.

The sight of him—one of the smoothest, most put-together guys you knew—stammering like an idiot while trying to be serious? 

It was too much.

A laugh broke past your lips before you could stop it.

Geo froze.

Your shoulders shook slightly, exhaustion weighing heavy on your limbs, but you couldn’t stop laughing. It wasn’t forced. It wasn’t fake.

It was real.

And somehow, despite everything, it felt good.

For the first time in what felt like forever, the suffocating weight of uselessness that always clung to you—the one that whispered you were just a burden, that you didn’t matter—faded into the background.

Geo huffed dramatically, shifting slightly but not letting you go. "Oh, great. Now you’re laughing at me."

You buried your face into his chest, still shaking with quiet amusement. "Because you suck at this," you mumbled, voice muffled against the fabric of his shirt.

"Yeah, well—" He was about to fire back, but then he heard it again.

Your laugh.

Not the usual forced chuckle. Not the empty amusement you gave when you didn’t want people to worry.

A real laugh.

And just like that, he went quiet.

His arms wrapped around you more securely, holding you there—close, warm, real.

Fuck. Geo really cared about you.

✑ 𝒽𝓎𝓊𝑔𝑜

Hyugo easily felt other’s emotions that he cared about.

It wasn’t hard to guess where you’d gone—he just knew. Like an instinct. Like something in his gut told him exactly where to find you, even before he started searching.

The rooftop was off-limits. Not just by school rules, but in the way most people never thought to come up here. Maybe they were too afraid of getting caught. Maybe they just weren’t the type to seek out heights when the ground felt unsteady beneath them. But you? You never cared about the rules.

You didn’t care about much of anything these days.

Hyugo exhaled sharply as he pushed the rusted rooftop door open, stepping into the cold wind that swept across the campus skyline. His uniform was slightly rumpled, tie loosened, the usual carefree expression wiped clean from his face as he caught sight of you—sitting near the ledge, drawn into yourself like you were trying to disappear into the horizon.

He hated seeing you like this.

It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair.

“…You missed class again.”

His voice was quiet. Careful. Not demanding, not scolding—just there.

You didn’t react. You didn’t even turn your head.

Hyugo sighed and ran a hand through his hair. The bench near the rooftop’s edge groaned as he sat down beside you, leaving just enough space that you wouldn’t feel cornered—but not enough to let you pretend he wasn’t here.

“Figured I’d find you up here,” he said, leaning back slightly, his arms resting against his knees. “Was hoping I was wrong.”

Still, nothing.

You just kept staring at the skyline, like if you looked hard enough, you might find something out there that made existing feel worth it.

Hyugo wasn’t good with words. Not like this. Not when it mattered. But he couldn’t just sit here and let you drown in whatever thoughts were eating away at you.

His eyes flickered to your sleeves. To the faint, fresh marks barely hidden beneath the fabric.

Something in his chest twisted.

“…I get it, you know.” His voice was quieter now, rough around the edges. “Maybe not exactly. Maybe not in the way you do. But…”

He hesitated, watching your fingers curl slightly in your lap, your shoulders stiff like you were bracing for something.

“…It doesn’t have to be like this.”

A sharp, bitter laugh almost escaped your throat, but you swallowed it down. Doesn’t have to be? It always was. It always would be.

You finally spoke, voice barely above a whisper. “Then tell me what it’s supposed to be like, Hyugo.”

He inhaled slowly, watching you—really watching you. He didn’t have an answer. Not a good one. Not one that would fix anything. But that didn’t stop him from reaching out, his fingers brushing over your wrist, tracing the edge of the pain you carried like it was something fragile, something worth holding onto.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, his grip tightening slightly. “But I do know that this isn’t all there is. And I hate that you think it is.”

That did something to you.

Your breath hitched, the weight in your chest pressing harder, heavier. You squeezed your eyes shut, hands clenching into fists.

Hyugo just held onto you. Not forcefully. Not trying to pull you away from the edge—just keeping you here. With him.

“…Talk to me,” he murmured. “Please.”

You wanted to say no. You wanted to stay in the silence, in the cold, in the nothingness.

But when you finally turned your head, when you met his eyes—the way he was looking at you like you were something precious, something irreplaceable—

For the first time in forever… You almost believed him.

Since Hyugo wasn’t the type to cry easily.

Sure, he was emotional—he felt a lot, more than he let on—but he was always the one with a bright smile, a teasing remark, a carefree attitude that made him easy to be around. He kept things light. Kept things fun.

But right now?

Right now, as he looked at you, really looked at you—at the exhaustion weighing down your shoulders, at the way your fingers trembled slightly as if you were holding yourself together with nothing but sheer will—something in him cracked.

His throat tightened.

You noticed the way his jaw clenched, the way his eyes glistened under the dim rooftop lights, the way his fingers twitched like he wanted to reach for you but wasn’t sure if he could.

Holy fuck. Did you almost make Hyugo cry?

The thought sent a sharp pang through your chest. It felt wrong. Unfair. He wasn’t supposed to be the one hurting. You were the problem here, not him. He shouldn’t—he couldn’t—

You shifted slightly, about to say something, anything to break the tension—

But then, before you could move, before you could even react, Hyugo suddenly lurched forward.

His arms wrapped around you, his face pressing against your chest, his entire body curling into you like he was holding on for dear life.

The impact startled you, making you stiffen, but he didn’t let go. If anything, he clung to you tighter, like he was afraid you’d slip away the second he loosened his grip.

“…Don’t do this to me,” he mumbled against your shirt, his voice muffled, strained.

You could feel the slight tremor in his hands, the way his breath hitched like he was barely holding himself together. His heartbeat pounded against you, fast, unsteady.

You swallowed hard, guilt settling deep in your stomach.

You didn’t mean to make him feel like this.

You didn’t mean to make anyone feel like this.

Slowly—hesitantly—you lifted a hand, resting it against the back of his head, your fingers threading gently through his messy hair. He let out a shaky breath, pressing his forehead deeper against your chest like he was trying to disappear into you.

“…Sorry,” you murmured.

He let out a soft, humorless chuckle, though it came out more like a choked sob.

“God, don’t apologize,” he muttered, voice cracking just slightly. “Don’t you dare fucking apologize right now.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, pressing your cheek against the top of his head. His warmth seeped into you, grounding you in a way you hadn’t expected. You didn’t even realize how cold you’d been until now.

For a while, neither of you moved.

Hyugo just held onto you, like he was afraid if he let go, you’d fade away completely. And maybe—just maybe—you let yourself sink into him too, just this once.

“…I’ll stay.”

The words barely made it past your lips, fragile and uncertain, like they might dissolve into the night air before they even reached him.

Hyugo sucked in a sharp breath. For a moment, he didn’t speak. He didn’t move. He just stared at you, wide-eyed, like he was afraid to blink in case he somehow imagined your words.

Slowly—cautiously—he pulled back just enough to see your face. The rooftop lights cast faint shadows across his features, but even in the dim glow, you could see it. The raw emotion pooled in his eyes, the way his lips parted as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite find the words.

His eyes were red-rimmed, glossy with unshed tears.

“…Yeah?” His voice was barely above a whisper, hoarse and uncertain, like he needed you to say it again, to confirm that you meant it.

You nodded.

And that was it. That was all it took for whatever was holding him back to finally break.

A sharp, uneven breath escaped him, and his lips pressed into a thin line as his brows furrowed. His whole body trembled, hands curling into fists against your back like he was trying to ground himself.

Then, before you could process it, before you could even brace yourself, he lunged forward.

His arms wrapped around you, tighter this time—desperate. His entire body pressed against yours, warm and trembling, his face burying into the crook of your neck.

“Good,” he breathed against your skin, voice thick, raw. “Good. You better. You fucking better.”

You felt him shudder against you, his breath uneven, like he was barely holding himself together. His fingers dug into the fabric of your clothes, gripping you like you might slip through his grasp at any second.

“I—” His voice caught, and he shook his head slightly, swallowing hard. His next words were muffled, spoken so quietly they were almost lost against your skin.

“I’d miss you too much, you know?”

Something inside you twisted painfully.

You exhaled, closing your eyes, inhaling the familiar scent of him—warm, faintly like the wind, like something alive. His heartbeat pounded against yours, frantic and real, a stark contrast to the numbness that had sat heavy in your chest for so long.

You knew.

You knew.

And maybe, just maybe—Hyugo was enough.

[writingwithciara]

paper rings -jack hughes-

summary: y/n's brother used to give her paper rings all the time. he did it for as long as she can remember. so after he suddenly passes away, y/n figures she won't see any new rings. but she is shocked to find a new ring in her mailbox every day following her brother's death.

word count: 6.8k

pairing: jack hughes x reader

notes: grieving reader, mentions of death. i loved this at first then i started hating it towards the end. not my favorite thing i've written, that's for sure. but you guys might like it :)

tropes: brother's best friend, childhood friends, friends to lovers, shared grief, happy ending

marcus was a good person. not a single bad bone in the guys body. wherever he went, he made friends with everyone. his favorite friendships were with the ones who resisted him briefly at first, who he eventually wore down.

his smile was infectious and he went out of his way to make sure nobody was ever left out. everybody loved him for it.

but nobody loved him more than his sister, y/n. and the love was the same for him. no one mattered more to him than his sister.

he loved his sister from the moment she was born. he had only been 2 but he remembered everything about the day their parents brought her home. she was perfect to him and he vowed right then and there that he would always protect her.

when she was 9, she was a witness to her parents constant fighting. marcus made sure she had everything possible to drown it out. he saved his money and bought her the best headphones in the store.

luckily, the fighting never lasted long. and just a few months later, their parents got divorced and their dad walked out of their lives. and that was okay because their mother was everything to both of them. she sacrificed so much to make sure her children were happy. their family was closer than ever and the 3 of them were happy together.

and then, out of nowhere, their mom got sick. she was admitted to the hospital when y/n was only 11 and she never left. it was where they had their final moments as a family. it killed y/n to see the family fall apart.

but thankfully, y/n still had marcus to hold on to. he kept his promise to protect her. he fought to keep them together and found a safe place for them in the home of his best friends family.

the hughes family immediately took them in once they learned about their situation and ellen made sure y/n and marcus knew they had a home for as long as they needed it.

everything was changing and although y/n didn't know how to feel, she knew she would grow to accept it eventually.

the only thing that remained the same throughout her life were the paper rings she received on a near-daily basis from her brother. marcus had learned how to make paper rings from a girl in his 4th grade class and he used the skills to make something for y/n to show how much he loved her. she was grateful.

jack once asked marcus about it and he informed his friend "from the moment i met my sister, i vowed to protect and love her for the rest of our lives. and she loves these so i'm happy to keep it up for her. i do it for her."

when she was 16, y/n watched as marcus and jack were both drafted to the nhl right out of high school. jack was going to new jersey and marcus was going to san jose. she wanted to go with her brother but she knew she couldn't. there was still the matter of her schooling. luke was still with her, luckily. and he made a promise to marcus to protect her.

at 19, y/n was in the middle of her freshman year at umich when her brother called ellen and informed them that he was being traded to new jersey. she remembered the conversation she had with ellen when they got off the phone.

"is there any possible way i could transfer to school in jersey?"

"i can check with your professors and see what's possible. any school you have in mind?"

"no. i just know that jersey is where i need to be."

and ellen knew what she meant. she understood that y/n and marcus couldn't be apart much longer and that their bond was never going to be destroyed.

so she talked to the right people and found a work-around for y/n to transfer to princeton.

y/n was happy again, being with the 2 people she loved the most. jack and marcus. they were her rocks and with them, she felt the safest she had ever been.

a year later, however, that happiness was ripped from her hands.

y/n had been stood up for a date by a guy she thought had really liked her. he had her wait outside the restaurant for almost an hour before he had the nerve to call her and tell her he was not gonna show up. he didn't even give a reason.

she didn't have enough money for an uber so she was going to have to call marcus to come pick her up.

as she she pulled out her phone, the screen was being covered in drops of water. when she looked up, she was just now noticing the rain was just starting to pour down. it was too late to cancel the call to her brother, as his voice filled her ear 2 seconds after she hit the dial button.

"y/n, are you okay? aren't you supposed to be on a date?"

"he stood me up, marcus. made me wait and hour before calling to cancel. and with no explanation."

"where are you? i'm on my way."

"no don't. i know you have plans. i don't know why i called. i'm just gonna call jack and see if he'll come get me."

"y/n, that is not an option. i'm already in the car and i'm tracking your location. be there in 5 minutes." he didn't give her time to protest again before he hung up.

y/n waited the 5 minutes. but her brother's car hadn't pulled up to the curb she stood on. she waited. and waited. and waited. for nearly another hour before another familiar car pulled up beside her. jack got out and ran to her.

"y/n, let's go."

"where's marcus?"

"we'll talk on the way."

"on the way where?"

but jack couldn't tell her. so when he pulled up to the hospital, he had to physically lift her out of his passenger seat and help her into the waiting room.

everything from that point on had happened in a slow motion blur. the doctor informed her of the accident but she couldn't believe it until she saw it. and she didn't want to see it. because to her, if she didn't see it, it never happened.

but she knew it had to happen sooner than later. so jack held her hand as she slowly walked into the room to say goodbye to her brother. her one constant in her life.

for 4 months following the funeral, she was lost. she stopped going to school and hid herself in her bedroom. her roommate, lydia, tried everything and even jack had tried to help coax her out of her room. but nothing seemed possible anymore.

all y/n did was stare at photos and videos she had created with marcus. it killed her to see his smile on the screen when she could no longer see it in person.

angrily, she tossed her phone across the room, knocking the shoebox off the top of her bookshelf. it tumbled to the floor, spilling its contents onto her rug.

"shit!" she muttered to herself before dragging her body out of bed and making her way to the mess on the floor. she had to stop for a second and prepare herself for what she was about to see.

the tiny paper rings had scattered across her carpet, and as she bent down to pick them up, she burst into tears. something she thought she was done with 2 days ago.

hearing the noise from the other side of the wall, lydia came rushing in to check on her. when she found y/n on her knees with her head in her hands, she approached slowly.

"y/n, are you okay?" she knelt beside her friend and rubbed her back gently. lydia was aware of how much the paper rings had meant to y/n and the meaning behind them. so she knew as soon as the question left her mouth, that y/n was not okay. it was confirmed when y/n shook her head and collapsed into lydia's arms. the two of them sat together for a few minutes before y/n stopped crying.

"i'm sorry you had to see me this way."

"y/n, you're my best friend. you don't have to apologize for being emotional. especially for something this valid. it's okay." lydia rubbed her back and helped her stand up. "i think you should get some rest. in my room."

"i'm fine, lyds. i promise."

"you need to be away from the reminders of him. and yes, i am aware that memories exist but that's a good thing. just, please go get some real sleep. i'll be here for as long as you need." she gently lead her roommate to her room and as soon as she made sure y/n was actually asleep, she called jack.

a few hours later, y/n woke up with a pounding headache. the room was dark but she could vaguely make out a figure sitting in the chair across the room. she thought she was seeing things at first so she tossed one of lydia's pillows into the darkness.

"ow." responded a familiar voice. the pillow came flying back towards y/n but she dodged it and it hit the wall. y/n turned on the lamp as jack sat next to her.

"what are you doing here?"

"lydia called me after she put you to sleep. figured you'd need me here." he gently rested his hand on top of hers and ran his fingers over her knuckles.

"you didn't have to come all the way here. i'm sorry."

"i promised marcus i would always be here for you when he couldn't be." he felt y/n stiffen at the mention of her brother. it was the first time anyone had said his name in her presence since the week following the funeral.

"i don't know why i got so emotional. it's been months, jack."

"i know. but it's okay. you miss him. we all do." he sighed and linked his fingers with hers. "he was all you had and i get it. it's okay to lose it every once in a while."

"i don't want to keep living this way. i want to be able to move on from his death." y/n looked at their connected hands. "i want to see a photo and not immediately burst into tears."

"lydia filled me in on what happened and i get it. those rings meant a lot to you and it's okay. i promise it's okay." he held her as she rested her head on his shoulder. "if you ever feel like you're in the midst of a breakdown, call me and i'll be there to help you through it."

"okay." she whispered, afraid to let her voice get any louder. "how long have i been wallowing by myself?"

"4 months. but that's alright. nobody's holding it against you."

"i didn't mean to shut you out, jack. i should've let you in." she could feel the tears pricking her eyes. jack noticed and he held her cheek, ready to wipe away anything that escaped.

"i'm here now. and i will be here. always."

"thank you." she whispered again and cuddled closer to her best friend. she was asleep within seconds and jack stayed with her for the rest of the night.

the next morning, y/n woke up in lydia's bed alone. she decided it was time to get out so she finally made her way to the kitchen. lydia and jack both looked up as they heard her enter the room.

"good morning." jack slid a plate of food over to her while lydia handed her a cup of coffee.

"how are you feeling today?"

"not great. but a little better than i have been." she sipped the coffee before taking a bite of the muffin in front of her. "i should thank you guys for being here for me, even if i was being difficult."

"you were most certainly not being difficult, y/n." jack took the seat next to her and tossed his arm around her shoulder. "i told you last night your feelings were valid. everyone processes differently. there's no set timeline for grieving. it's different for everyone."

"yeah. you took the time you needed and that's perfectly fine." lydia sat on the other side of the table and reached for y/n's hand. "we love you so much and we would never leave you alone."

"i love you too. and i'm for grateful you guys are in my life." she looked between them. "oh shit. i should go clean up my room."

"already taken care of, darling." lydia squeezed her hand. "cleaned it up while you were sleeping."

"yeah. i tried to help when i got here but she told me to be there for you when you woke up."

"what did you do with the rings?"

"i put them back on your shelf. but i put them lower so you could easily reach them if you ever wanted to look through them."

"thank you, lydia. that was thoughtful of you."

"he made you a lot of those rings, didn't he?"

"almost daily from 2nd grade until the week before he passed." y/n let out a shaky breath. "i'm never gonna get another paper ring again and i know it sucks, but at least i have the current ones."

"exactly." jack rubbed her shoulder. "he loved making them for you."

"i know. said it made him happy."

"it made him happy to see how happy you were when he gave them to you." jack wiped a stray tear off her cheek.

"what are your plans for the day?" y/n looked at jack, then at lydia.

"well, i was thinking i could stay here tonight again. if you wanted me to."

"okay. but that's later. what about now?"

"i have to get to work in about 20 minutes." lydia finished her coffee and brought the mug to the sink. "i'll see you later, y/n. bye jack." she waved and walked out the door.

"but i'm free." jack smiled. "well, i'll be free after practice. wanna come with me?"

"is that even allowed?"

"no idea. but i don't want to leave you."

"it's alright. i can be left alone for a bit."

"no. i can't do that. not when i made a promise."

"i don't want you to get in trouble, jack."

"i won't. will you please come with me?"

"fine. but if you get in trouble, i'm going home."

"fair enough." jack smiled and y/n stood from the table. "go get dressed and i'll grab your stuff."

y/n nodded and headed into her room. her eyes went immediately to the shoebox of rings and she walked over to it. instead of ignoring it, she opened the lid and pulled one out. it happened to be the green one she adored. marcus bought a special kind of paper meant for paper rings after the ones i first gave her got destroyed.

she slid the green ring on her finger and stared at it. she must've zoned out because jack was by her side when she turned her head.

"oh. sorry. i'll be ready in a second."

"no worries." jack's thumb instinctively swiped the tear off her cheek and he walked to her door to wait.

30 minutes later, they were pulling up to the practice arena. jack got out and went to y/n's side of the car.

"while you were getting dressed, i called coach. he said it was fine for you to sit in on the practice today."

"okay good. i'm glad." she took jack's hand and they walked into the arena. y/n sat in a seat behind the glass and watched the guys skate around. nico waved to her whenever he skated by. jack kept his eye on her the entire time and while one might think it would've messed up his concentration, it did not. he was capable of putting focus on more than one thing.

nico skated over to him while they were working on their final drill. "it's nice to see y/n out of her apartment. she seems to be doing better."

"yeah. she had a breakdown last night and her roommate called me over to help. guess it was what she needed."

"what did she breakdown over?"

"it took awhile for me to get it out of her but i guess she was going through her old photo album on her phone and got angry so she threw her phone. it hit her bookshelf and knocked down her shoebox filled with paper rings. one look at the pile of paper on her rug and she burst into tears."

"they meant a lot to her, didn't they?"

"yeah. marcus learned how to make them in 4th grade and he gave her a new one nearly every day since then. she loved them. they made her happy and he lived for making her smile."

"that's sweet." nico tapped his stick. "do you know how to make them?"

"i tried a couple times but none of them ever turned out as good as the ones marcus made her."

"i'm sure with a little bit of practice, you could make some and give them to her. she might appreciate it."

"yeah, maybe. but i don't know." jack looked over to where y/n was sitting. she was leaning forward, talking to sheldon through the glass. she had a smile on her face. it was small, but it was a start. when she lifted her head to catch jack's gaze, she waved. "she is so strong. i don't know how she does it."

"she's got you, jack." nico nudged his friend. "and you don't have to worry about replacing marcus. nobody could ever. but you're a good substitute for the love she lost when she lost him. but it could be different if you let it."

"what are you talking about?"

"you're smart. you'll figure it out." and with that, he skated in the opposite direction. jack headed over to y/n.

"hey. ready to go?"

"yeah." y/n met him at the entrance to the tunnel. "sheldon was telling me how glad he was glad to see me doing better."

"everyone was glad to see you, y/n. you might not know it but we were all worried about you. you're like the unofficial little sister of the team."

"that's how you see me?"

"yeah. we all love you. not as much as he did. but we've got the same intentions."

"okay. that makes me feel alright." y/n took his hand and they walked to the locker room. "i'll wait for you out here." she waited for 25 minutes before she saw his face again and she was instantly calmed down when he emerged. y/n found that he has been doing that to her for years and she suddenly always wanted to be near him.

on the way back to the apartment, y/n fidgeted with the ring she put on earlier. jack took notice and nico's words played in his head. maybe he really should make some rings for her.

a few days later, y/n was sitting in her room when lydia came in. she handed y/n a small package.

"what's this?"

"i don't know. but it was in the mailbox." lydia shrugged and sat down on the bed beside y/n as she opened the package. "so, what is it?"

"it's a," she ripped the tape off and opened the box. "oh my god. it's a paper ring." she pulled it out and held it in the palm of her hand. it was a decently made one, nowhere near the quality of the green one she was still wearing. "who sent me this?"

"is there a return address on it?"

"not that i recall." y/n flipped the package around but didn't see an address on it. "i think it was jack."

"why do you say that?"

"well, other than you, he's the only one who knows how much the rings mean to me. at least i think he is."

"okay. that makes a lot of sense i guess."

"oh, there's a note." y/n unfolded a piece of paper and read the words.

you deserve so much more but these rings meant a lot to you so from this day forward, i will make and deliver a new ring every single day.

she knew immediately, just by the handwriting, that jack had made this ring. and it touched her heart in ways she didn't think were possible.

"lyds, what am i going to do?"

"what do you mean?"

"this is the sweetest thing anybody has ever done for me. and i love it a lot. it's making me feel things. but it's jack. i can't be feeling these things for him. he's my best friend."

"but maybe that's exactly why you should feel these things."

"what?"

"think about it. nobody knows the pain you're going through more than jack does. you lost a brother and he lost a best friend. and sometimes, people connect in so many ways while they grieve."

"but....it's jack." y/n looked at the ring again. "it would be weird, wouldn't it? i mean, i've never even thought about him in that way before."

"okay so you're telling me you've known this really hot guy for years and you've never thought once about him in a way that wasn't friendly?"

"have you?" y/n raised an eyebrow.

"of course i have. like i said, he's really hot." lydia smiled. "but he's never going to be into me. not the way he's into you, at least."

"are you high? jack is not into me."

"dude, are you blind? you can't be serious right now." lydia chuckled and shook her head. "he drops everything when you call. or just to be here for you. he's been your best friend for years and constantly, he's shown up for you. even on days when you didn't ask. he's intune to your feelings. it's like he knows how you'll be feeling and he's prepared for anything when it comes to you." lydia looked at her friend. "if he's not in love with you, then my radar is way off."

"it's off. just watch. i'll show you."

every day for the next 2 weeks, y/n received a paper ring in the mail. each one better than the one before it. she hardly saw jack but when she did, he would only be around briefly. so she didn't have the opportunity to ask him about what she and lydia had discussed.

but even then, with each passing day, y/n was beginning to doubt her own words. jack was going above and beyond in her friendship but it didn't feel like things a friend would do.

she really needed to talk to him.

and she got her chance one saturday.

jack was packing for a road trip with the team while y/n watched him run around his room. she enjoyed the moments like this when it was just them.

"i know you're the one who keeps sending me paper rings, jack."

"it wasn't really a secret, y/n." jack stopped folding a shirt and faced her.

"but why?"

"the rings meant a lot to you. i wasn't gonna let you continue on with your life without those rings." he looked down at his feet. "i hate seeing you upset, y/n."

"i don't deserve you." y/n smiled before lydia's words came tumbling through her mind. they fell out of y/n's mouth before she could stop them. "oh, um, interesting story. lydia told me she thought you were hot."

"oh. really?" jack's face began turning red and y/n suddenly wished she hadn't told him that.

"yeah." she took the opportunity to gauge his reaction carefully. "so, what do you think of that?"

"well, honestly i'm flattered. and she's gorgeous."

y/n's heart constricted a little. "oh."

"but she's not my type."

"are you crazy? lydia is 100% your type, jack. she's blonde, gorgeous, smart and funny. how is she not your type?"

"she just isn't, okay? yeah she's all those things, but she's just not-"

"ready to go, jack?" luke interrupted his brother thenn turned to y/n. "oh hey, y/n. didn't know you were here."

"i come here before you guys leave for every away trip. how are you so surprised every single time, luke?" y/n walked over to the tallest hughes brother and hugged him.

"i know. just like to tease you." luke chuckled. "you gonna miss your boy for a week?"

"what boy?"

"forget about him and come back here for a second. i have something for you."

y/n walked over to jack and smiled when he placed a paper ring on her pinky finger. "what's this for?"

"it's my favorite one i've ever made and i was gonna have it sent to you from the road but since you're here, i figured i'd give it to you now." jack's smile was infectious. "do you like it?"

"i love it." y/n couldn't help but wrap her arms around jack. he immediately pulled her tighter while luke smiled to himself.

"okay, lovebirds. let's go." he grabbed jack's bag and headed out. while they were alone, jacks cheeks turned pink.

"uh, ignore him."

"i always do." y/n smiled and headed out to the living room. "i'm gonna miss you guys. make sure you win for me."

"we always try our best for you." jack put his arm around y/n as the 3 of them headed to the parking lot.

luke got in jack's car and waited for his brother. he watched as jack and y/n embraced for what felt like the millionth time in the last hour. and he couldn't, for the life of him, figure out why they were still dancing around their feelings.

by the time jack drove away, he had shed his sweater. y/n held it in her arms and smiled before climbing into her car and heading back to her apartment.

lydia was sitting on the couch when y/n walked in. her eyebrow raised when she noticed the sweater. "jack's?"

"jack's" y/n confirmed as she collapsed next to her best friend.

"so does that mean you guys finally had the talk?"

"no. we didn't. but i did tell him you thought he was hot."

"you did not!" lydia slapped y/n's arm and laughed. "what did he say?"

"he said you were gorgeous, but that you weren't his type."

"right. because you're his type."

"When will you let that go?"

"when you and jack finally have a talk."

"okay. so never?"

"it's like you love to piss me off."

"you love me."

"i do." lydia smiled and turned her attention back to the tv. "i can't believe THE jack hughes called me gorgeous."

"that just made your day, didn't it?"

"honey, it made my entire life."

a week later, y/n and lydia were watching the devils play the golden knights. when jack collided with eichel and they both went down, y/n jumped up from the couch.

"oh no."

"that looked painful."

"he's not getting up, lydia." y/n covered her mouth and watched as eichel slowly slowly got up. he leaned down to check on jack but he was still not getting up. "that looked terrible."

"it really did. i can feel the pain." she rubbed her shoulder. "oh. and it's the same shoulder from last season, isn't it?"

"i don't know." y/n grabbed her phone and sent luke a text. "i hope he's okay." she was surprised when her phone vibrated in her hand. she looked at the screen. "jack's requesting a facetime."

"answer it!" lydia jumped to her feet and joined y/n.

"hey. what happened?" y/n looked at the screen, only to see luke's face instead of jack's. "is he okay?"

"he's stubborn. doesn't want to believe it's as bad as it could be." luke turned the camera towards jack.

"stubborn, or stupid?" lydia shook her head.

"little bit of both." y/n and luke answered at the same time.

"who are you talking to? is it y/n?" jack called from behind the camera. luke leaned to get his brother in the frame. he smiled when he saw y/n on the screen. "i promsie it's not bad."

"jack, the doctor said you might need surgery again."

"i don't need to surgery."

"jack, what's going to be worse? continuing your season without fixing what could become a potential problem down the road? or getting it fixed quickly so you can heal faster and come back stronger?" y/n stared at her best friend.

"ugh. stupid logic."

"i do it because i care."

"i know. and i love you for it." jack chuckled. the doctor came back into the room to inform them of the extent of his injury. he wrapped the shoulder as tightly as he needed and left the room again.

"i'm sorry this happened, bro." luke sighed. "you're the star of our team. without you, we're basically screwed."

"don't say that, luke. you guys are still strong without jack. you proved that last season."

"y/n, babe, i love you. but last season, we sucked." luke chuckled. "i strongly believe it was because we didn't have jack."

"you're feeding his ego, luke." lydia shook her head and smiled. "hope you heal fast, jack. the team needs you."

"who's the one feeding his ego now?" luke playfully raised his eyebrow. jack laughed in the background.

"i miss you guys." y/n sighed.

"well i won't be home for a while. gotta fly to colorado and get some surgery."

"oh. that sucks." y/n looked at her best friend. "this isn't fair. you should be healthy. you deserve it for at least one full season."

"i know. but it's like i'm cursed or something."

"all of you guys have been injured this season and i think it's bullshit."

"it is." y/n looked away for a moment. long enough for her to miss the longing look in jack's eyes. but lydia noticed.

"hey, if you miss jack so much, why don't you fly to denver and keep him company before and after the surgery?"

luke, who easily caught on, nodded. "oh, that's a great idea. i'll book the ticket now and send it to your email." he was already typing on his phone before she could protest.

"this will be good for him, i promise." lydia whispered. "you'll have time to talk to him about you know what."

"you're never gonna give up, are you?"

"you know me so well. i'm gonna go pack for you while you're on the phone." lydia kissed her cheek and headed down the hallway. y/n turned her attention back to the screen just as luke was putting his phone away.

"done. flight leaves tomorrow evening. you'll be in denver in less than 48 hours."

"can't wait. kiss jack on the cheek for me and tell him i'll see him soon." y/n smiled and hung up the phone. part of her wanted to be upset with luke and lydia's meddling but the other part of her knew jack would enjoy the company.

so, when the plane landed in denver 30 hours later, y/n rushed to be the first one off the plane. luke had sent her a text with the hospital information on it so she got in a cab and gave the driver the directions.

when he pulled up to the hospital, she gave him a generous tip and headed inside. it only took a few minutes before she had arrived in jack's room. when he looked up, his eyes met hers and he smiled widely.

"hey. you actually came. i thought the discussion was all a dream."

"of course i came. you needed someone here with you." y/n set her bag down and sat in the chair next to his bed. "how do you feel?"

"better now that you're here." he smiled genuinely. "but still in a little pain. surgery is scheduled for tomorrow morning and even though it's happened before, i'm a little scared."

"there's nothing to be scared of, jack. your doctor is one of the best in the country. he's had tons of successful surgeries, yours included." y/n grabbed his hand. "you're tough, jack. you can do this."

"wow. i didn't know how much i needed you here until just now. thank you." he squeezed her hand 2 times harder. "you take the pain away. for real."

"i try my best." y/n looked down at her feet, the blush inevitable. "jack, there's something i want to talk about and if i wait any longer, i'll probably chicken out." she took a deep breath before speaking again. "i think i may love you. a lot. and i never realized it until i lost marcus. you helped me out of my depression and you brightened my life up, even though i didn't make it easy. you are my best friend and i think that you making me these rings may be a sign that you like me too. and i might be wrong about it so if you don't feel the same, please tell me now." she waited for a few seconds. the silence was enough of a confirmation that she was wrong. taking a breath, she looked up, only to find that jack had fallen asleep. she let out a sigh of relief and leaned back in her chair, never letting his hand go.

the next morning, y/n woke up to the soft sound of voices whispering to each other. she opened her eyes and the doctor was standing by the bed, talking to jack. his hand was still holding onto y/n's so when he felt her move, his head turned immediately.

"good morning."

"good morning." she sat up straighter. "what's going on?"

"the doctor was just coming in to get me ready for surgery."

"oh. okay. well, i'm gonna go get some coffee." y/n stood up and stretched. jack reached for her hand.

"wait. please?"

"okay." she sat back down and watched the doctor do his thing. when it was finally time for the surgery, the doctor began wheeling jack out. he looked at y/n.

"you're gonnabe here after, right?"

"of course, jack. i wouldn't leave you."

"okay good. i have to tell you something when this is all over."

"i'll be here." she watched the doctor take jack to the operating room. as she waited, she thought back to her confession last night. she had no idea if she would have the courage to say it all to him again.

a few hours later, jack was out of surgery and asleep in his room. y/n kept her eye on him while the nurses came in and out to check on him.

around 9 pm, jack finally woke up. y/n had fallen asleep with her head on the edge of jack's bed. he gently tapped the top of her head and she stirred. when she opened her eyes, she smiled at jack.

"hey. how are you feeling now?"

"better. a lot better." he smiled as y/n moved her chair closer to the bed.

"that's good." y/n held his hand for what felt like the millionth time in the past 2 days. but neither of them cared. it felt right.

jack's eyes travelled to their hands. "you're still wearing the ring."

"of course i am. you gave it to me. i love it."

"i love you." jack closed his eyes. "this was not the way i wanted to tell you though. you deserve better than a damn hospital room."

"it's okay, jack. i could be anywhere with you and it would be enough." y/n squeezed his hand and smiled. "i love you too, by the way."

"i thought that's what i heard last night but i figured i was dreaming." jack chuckled. "i heard your whole speech and i'm sorry i didn't reply."

"you were tired. i don't blame you." y/n looked at his shoulder. "i'm glad you got the surgery instead of being stubborn, like usual."

"well a really wise person i know made a really good point." jack smiled. "i'm gonna come back even stronger than before and it's all thanks to you."

"i'm sure your doctor would be very happy to hear that." y/n couldn't help but laugh. "i guess i'm gonna be the one to take care of you while you heal."

"hopefully you'll be a better caregiver than luke was last season when i was hurt."

"i'll be the best caregiver ever. but only for you. and sometimes lydia."

"does lydia still think i'm hot?"

"she does." y/n grinned. "but i think that she thinks luke is hotter. and even if she doesn't, there's still some vibes between them, right?"

"you noticed that too, huh?"

"yeah. i've noticed it before but that facetime call was like the icing on the cake."

"they'd be cute together though, don't you think?" jack grinned.

"oh for sure." y/n looked at the ring on her finger. "thank you for learning how to make these for me."

"they mean a lot to you, y/n. i like seeing you happy. it's gotta be the best sight for me."

"you must really like me then, huh?"

"i do. i definitely do. and i have for a while." jack looked away from y/n before speaking. "i know this might make me sound like an asshole, but the night you had that date with that one guy, i was hoping the entire night that it would be a terrible date. i wanted you to come home and complain about him. i had planned to tell you how i felt that night. but after everything, the timing just never felt right. i'm sorry about him, by the way. he didn't deserve you."

"i know. i was way out of his league. but i spent so long thinking the opposite. so when he finally asked me on the date, i was happy." y/n sighed. "it was supposed to be a good day. but it was the worst day of my life."

"i know. i remember picking you up at the restaurant. you were broken before i even brought you to the hospital. i felt terrible having to do it."

"it's okay, jack." y/n climbed onto the bed next to jack when he scooted over. "sometimes things have to happen. and it's not like marcus won't live on in our memories. he's always gonna be in here. and in here." y/n pointed to her head first, then her heart. "especially in here."

"good. never let him fade away." jack kissed the top of her head and sighed. "so, i love you."

"i know. and i love you too, doofus. we've established that." y/n turned to look at him. "maybe we can finally go on a date when you get out of this hospital."

"or we can have the first date here." jack raised an eyebrow. "the food isn't too bad."

"okay. you're definitely still on the drugs." y/n smirked.

"i wish. the pain is a little terrible."

"want me to get the nurse?"

"no. i have a better idea." jack dropped her hand and used his own to grab her chin gently. he leaned in and slanted his lips over hers. their first kiss may have only been a short one. but it packed a lot of emotions in it. jack rested his forehead against hers and chuckled.

"how's the pain now?"

"still hurts. but only a little now. the kiss definitely helped."

"good. i'm glad to hear that." y/n grinned and leaned on his good shoulder. "i'm proud of you."

"thank you for being proud of me." jack stroked her hair and closed his eyes. the two of them drifted off to sleep, content to finally be in each others arms.

[0wlettie]

sfw, jealousy & light angst, gege usage, dogboy!caleb thoughts cont. pt.II (pt. I), wc 3.4k

dogboy!caleb who you grow closer with as the weeks pass. he becomes the closest, most important person to you besides your grandma. closer than a friend but not really a brother, you decide that he’ll be your gege from now on; something that lights him up from the inside out when he hears you call him that, tail wagging so hard that you’re scared it’ll fall off. you do everything together like watch movies—both scary and not—and play games, go out for walks and to play at the park. you’re both attached at the hip, living in each other’s shadow. where one goes the other is sure to follow, and while it does kind of worry your grandma, she also realizes that this is better than you being lonely. you smile more; are quicker to laugh and joke rather than retreat into yourself. so despite her initial trepidation, she lets things play out how they will.

dogboy!caleb who greets you after you get home from school with snacks ready and a movie already paused on the t.v. some mishap with his paperwork forces him to wait some time until he’s ready to attend classes, so you’ve got plenty of time to spend together all on your lonesome; your grandma taking more shifts at a local pharmacy since caleb can watch over you now instead of your next door neighbors. sometimes he surprises you with something you’ve never seen before, and no matter how much you pester him on how he found the obscure movie, show or anime, he never says a word. it’s an exciting time for you, and you find that no matter what you do, he never seems to mind taking care of you. whether that means he has to coddle you because you wake up in a mood or if he has to deal with your clinginess, always wanting to pet his ears and tail, as well as playfully wrestle with him whenever he teases you too much. he’s just as eager to be around you as you are him, and it makes you feel special.

dogboy!caleb who transfers to your school a month and a half after coming home. your town is a bit on the small side, so they often combine some of the younger kids with some of the older ones, and your school happens to double up as both an elementary and a middle school. you’re ecstatic! he’s a little older than you so you don’t have the same classes, but you two get to walk home together. and, when he’s got free periods, he walks over to your class and your teacher allows you two to hang out! for once, you find school to be exciting to attend rather than something to be afraid of. for once, you don’t eat lunch alone and miserable.

dogboy!caleb who is unsurprisingly popular at school. it takes a little while for other kids to warm up to him—hybrids are rare in your town, and they’ve never been around a hybrid kid before—but in no time at all, they’re practically tripping over themselves to get close to him. something that initially doesn’t bother you as much, because you’re proud that your gege is so well liked! you get to show him off, and you soak up the jealous glares and awed looks you get when he walks you home, swinging your held hands together while you babble on about your day.

dogboy!caleb who quickly rises to the top of the social food chain; joining the basketball team, being nominated to be on the student council, having some of the top scores, etc, etc. He’s got loads of people and obligations vying for his attention, from his buddies from the team to the student council planning for school events to being asked to tutor in study groups. as weeks turn into months, you end up seeing him less and less as he gets busier and busier with his extracurriculars. you often have to wait for him in the library so you can walk home together, and it slowly begins to bother you when you're stuck there for hours and hours at a time. watching his classmates fawn all over him, laughing and joking, smiling without a care in the world. as pretty girls older than you giggle and twirl their hair, leaning in close to his face to layer compliment after compliment on him. while you’re left to sit in the corner, alone and brooding as he shoots you the occasional apologetic grimace.

dogboy!caleb who begins to notice that you’ve grown quiet on your walks back from school. you’re fine by the time you two get back home, and maybe you cling to him a little harder, but it’s nothing too out of the usual. but he can just feel something is off whenever the day starts again and the cycle back home repeats. And repeats. And repeats until even going to sleep doesn’t dissuade your pensive, almost angry mood. and he tries everything to make you smile, to make you happy but nothing really seems to work anymore. you give him the cold shoulder, reply to his questions with silences or curt words. you two don’t even watch movies anymore, and he gets progressively panicked the more and more you seem to drift away no matter how hard he tries to keep you in his hold. your grandma notices, because of course she does, but the you refuse to answer her questions, and caleb has none to give. she knows that you are a bit of a handful in terms of temperament; snappy and standoffish when you fall into one of your moods. she figures that this must be ones of those times, and she opts to wait just a little bit before she really puts her foot down.

dogboy!caleb who once again leads you to the library. it’s another study group this time. its supposed to be him and a few of his teammates, but when you two walk through the doors, it’s a lot…bigger than he expects. it's a few of his team milling about the large table where their usual study sessions happen, as well as a whole bunch of girls from his class. he notices how your already sour mood worsens, and a low whine is building up in his throat before he forcibly swallows it back down. glancing at you, he offers a smile that screams out an apology. you hardly react, flicking over him with dark, unreadable eyes before you sigh and begin to shuffle away. your hair is down today, and he can smell the remnants of your vanilla shampoo once you sharply duck his outstretched hand. it stings something fierce when you shoot him a mean glare, but before he can possibly ask what’s wrong--what he did to make you look at him like that--you’ve already turned your back to him. you angrily stalk over to your designated corner, roughly tossing your bag down onto the floor; snagging a book from the inside before you bury your nose in the pages.

dogboy!caleb who ignores the call of his name, following after you without hesitation. your hide your face within the paperback held in between your small hands, and it causes a something heavy and painful to weigh down on his chest when you ignore his presence. his shadow casts over your form, and even though every hair is prickling along your skin at finally having his devoted attention on you, the spiteful part of yourself wants him to suffer a little more. it’s mean. petty and unfair, you know. but you hate the fact that you have to share him now. he was yours first. he was the first kid to accept you for who you are, flaws and all. you know him better than those annoying classmates of his, those insufferable girls who look at him with hearts in their eyes, those dumb boys who hog him on the weekends with their stupid sport. but he still gives them more attention than you. getting home from school is less like you two spending time together, and more like he’s busy studying or chatting on his phone with his friends. and you know he doesn't mean to exclude you, because when he does have any excess time, he spends it with you--as rare as that is nowadays. he even invites you out when he hangs outside with his friends. you always go because you just can’t help yourself, but the pit in leaves in your stomach when you sit on the sidelines and watch him have fun with others only gets worse and worse. caleb is yours; your best friend, your gege. but, it doesn’t seem like anyone ever picks up on it, least of all him.

dogboy!caleb who doesn't stop his hand from snatching the book away from your face. you make an angry noise, curling your fingers into fists as you place them in your lap--keeping your eyes locked onto your knuckles to avoid his burning stare. he rests his hands on the table, leaning down to try and catch your eye. but you stubbornly refuse, closing your eyes and turning your head no matter what angle he looks at you, staying silent in the face of his questions and concern. you hate to admit it, but it does warm you inside to see him try so hard to get your attention. but it also makes you feel icky and gross, hearing the barely bitten back whines, the growing desperation as he tries his best to stay calm. you waver, in the face of him trying so hard to figure out what’s wrong, so with one long sigh, you finally open your eyes and look at him. his entire body is tense, ears flattened to his head as he looks at you with furrowed brows and wide, almost hurt eyes. the sight immediately has you softening the frown on your face. you reach out to curl your pinkie around his, softly apologizing for being so mean.

dogboy!caleb who immediately relaxes at your touch, the tense line of his shoulders drooping into a semi-comfortable looking slouch while his ears perk up. his entire hand wraps around yours as he quietly asks you what’s wrong, peering at you with his shiny, dusk-purple irises. you pout, avoiding his gaze as guilt weighs heavy in your belly. he squeezes your hand and asks again, but the shame of your actions begins to catch up with you and you find you don’t have the words to explain yourself. you don’t know the nitty, gritty details of his early childhood, but you know enough to gather that he hasn’t really experienced a “normal” school life. if he gets a little caught up in the excitement of it all, then you shouldn’t be punishing him for it. that’s…that’s just cruel, and your gege is the last person you want to be cruel to. even if it makes you angry that he’s now others’ too, it’s something you’re gonna have to accept. if only to keep from hurting him further.

dogboy!caleb who relents when he sees the frustrated wobble of your lower lip. he knows that face, and he knows that it’s better to give you time to sort out your thoughts rather than push further. so he sighs and lets go of your hand, reaching over to lightly tweak your nose. you whine a little, swatting his hand away while trying your best to look annoyed. but how can you be when caleb is giving you the attention you’re so desperately craving. when he looks so relieved at having you speak to him.

dogboy!caleb who smiles at the sparkle of humor in your eyes, quietly promising to you that he’ll make you whatever you want once they get back home. but, only after you tell him what’s been going on lately. you bite your lip, but slowly nod at his imploring stare. you don’t like being mad at caleb. you hate it, in fact. it feels wrong to associate negative things with him when all he’s ever made you feel is accepted and happy. until now, at least. so you quietly agree, giggling when you can see the tip of his wagging tail peak over the edge of the table. that lovely sound finally puts him at ease, and feeling overwhelmed with relief and excitement, he leans over and nuzzles the tip of his nose into the top of your head. you giggle again, titling forward to brush your cheek against the front of his shoulder you can reach. he promises you that he’ll be done after an hour, which is a lot shorter than he normally stays. he pulls back, gently booping your nose with his finger. he asks if you can be patient with him, and feeling so much better now that he’s giving you the chance to explain, you eagerly agree with a real smile. seeing it makes that frantic energy inside of him calm. he doesn’t know what exactly he did, but it’s clear that it’s him that’s been making you so upset. or at least, what he’s been doing. it has been a long time since it’s just been the two of you outside of school work or meal times, and he feels like an idiot for just noticing it. if what really made you so upset was his busy schedule, then he can tweak it and spend less time out with others. anything to bring you back to him.

dogboy!caleb who jogs over to the study group, waving off their concerns with a practiced smile. he warns them that he’s on a time limit, and laughs off their disappointed but friendly ‘boos’. quickly, though, he gets into study mode and the group begins discussing their recent math quiz and what they did wrong on it. caleb sets a timer on his phone—one grandma had gotten him since you were still a little too young to have one in her opinion—and settles into his seat. he’s really only here to offer support, as he’s had no trouble at all when it comes to his classes. so when one of the girls from his homeroom asks for his input, he doesn’t hesitate to offer his help.

dogboy!caleb who casually leans over to peer at her paper, and you watch as the girl he’s helping flushes at his easy going smile and bright eyes. her own gaze flickers from his ears to his face and back again while he talks her through whatever her problem is, and your good mood vanishes. that familiar uncomfortable burn settles within your chest, and you dig your nails into your dress. you don’t like the way she’s looking at him, you don’t like it at all. it doesn’t help that another girl slowly inches her way over, and after he’s clearly done helping the first, the second seizes her opportunity and she immediately pounces. her voice is loud and whiny enough to carry over to your corner, and your eye twitches when caleb laughs and calms down her dramatic complaints, easily switching over to pay attention to her instead. on and on this goes as the hour ticks down slowly for you. you want to look away, you want to ignore all those girls who are so much prettier than you are. who are thinner and sweet and cute in a way you’ll never be. who get to spend time with caleb when you can’t; who get to steal his attention away when you barely have it despite living together. but it’s like your eyes are glued to the scene, like you’re frozen in place. that itching burn grows hotter and hotter the longer you look, until you suddenly just can’t take it anymore and you have to leave.

dogboy!caleb who, after forty-five minutes, gets some time to breath. he checks the time on his phone, idly planning on what you could possible want for dinner. he’s thinking up a few different options when he turns his head to peek at what you’re doing, only—you aren’t there. your seat is empty, your bag gone and there’s not a trace to be found of you. his heart drops to his stomach as his eyes frantically dart around the library, but you’re nowhere to be found. he’s trying to keep his head cool, but he can feel the panic in his chest grow stronger the longer he realizes that he didn’t even notice you leave. he quickly rises to his feet, ignoring the questions thrown his way as he tosses his bag over his shoulder. he doesn’t have time for this, he needs to find you. nothing else matters but you. nothing.

dogboy!caleb who hones in on your scent immediately. he'd memorized it, early on, and he's gotten plenty of time to adjust to the overwhelming smells staining the halls. it's no trouble at all to follow his nose out the library doors, not even bothering to acknowledge the concerned calls of his study group. his mind is focused on nothing but finding you. everything around him simultaneously goes sharp and blurry, eyes flicking around as your scent trails down the halls and out the front gates of the school. the energy building up beneath his skin sets him on edge, an unfamiliar kind of restlessness sending adrenaline coursing through his veins. how did he not realize you were gone? how could he have been so wrapped up in that stupid study group to not notice you leaving? he’s attuned to everything about you, at least, he thought he was. he clenches his jaw when, instead of going down their usual path, the vanilla-lavender-sea salt scent of yours trails down another. it’s a route you haven’t taken with him before; a route that leads you further into town rather than down the backstreets to their home.

dogboy!caleb who can’t stop his feet from moving faster, the rhythmic thud of his bag bouncing against his spine. the further he jogs, the stronger your scent gets. his heart pounds even faster inside of his chest, eyes focused and dark as he glances around the street he’s turned onto. it’s not like it’s a bad part of the neighborhood to be in, there’s even a park further up the street. but, there are a lot of older kids milling about the sidewalk. teenagers from the neighboring high school, judging by their uniforms, and it makes him nervous to imagine you wandering about by yourself. he sniffs deeply, head instinctively following the line of your scent as it leads towards the playground. he frowns as he approaches the edges of the park, noticing a small groups of high school boys hanging around a nearby bench. their eyes are drawn towards the park, but he’s a little too far from it to see what they’re looking at clearly. he sniffs again, his ears flicking as he instinctively listens in on their conversation.

‘who’s the kid?’

‘i don’t know man, when i walked up kai was just talkin’ to her.’

‘isn’t it kinda weird that an elementary schooler is hanging around at this hour?’

‘maybe he’s tryna figure that out? if he can, he’ll probably walk her home if she’s lost.’

‘yea, that’s true. you gotta admit though, she’s kinda creepy the more you look at her. i mean, cmon, she’s so gloomy, it’s making me sad just lookin’ at her. she looks like she could stare right through my soul, it’s freaky, bro.’

‘don’t be rude, man, she’s just a kid. what’s if she’s got something going on at home?’

‘maybe, i guess. but what kinda normal kid carries around a fuckin’ ghostface bookbag anyway? isn’t that like, a rated r movie?’

dogboy!caleb who pauses halfway through his step. there’s only one elementary school kid he knows who carries that kinda bag around. the blood in his veins turns to ice when he realizes the girl they’re talking about is you. in the presence of some unknown high school boy. his teeth itch inside of his mouth and he rushes forward without hesitation. he doesn’t care who the hell that other boy is, he’s not gonna leave you with him no matter how ‘nice’ he may appear to you.

previous episode: pt. I

next episode: pt. III

*jazz hands* tada !! part two ! again, had to cut it off here cuz this shit was getting suuuuuper long like jeez i fucking yap too much i swear;;;; good news is, though, i won't leave you hanging for long ! i plan to put something out by tomorrow (and i promise i won't get distracted;;;;) so be on the lookout for part three if you're interested !

edit: if you want to keep up with this story, i have no issues tagging ! but if you do follow me and you don’t have an age in your bio i will block you, i’m sorry but im an 18+ blog despite the fluff and i don’t want minors following me; adding this because i’ve seen an influx of people and i guess they didn’t realize i’ve got rules ;;; so please, have an age in bio or you will be blocked !!

[remlionheart]

“You came.”

“You called.”

✧˚ · .MDNI 18+✧˚ · .

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ WHEWWWW. I had no idea when I first started writing this just how much it was going to suck me in. Sweet/toxic!Megumi had my brain doing fuckin' wheelies. All characters are aged up. 21+. Fem!reader x Megumi. AU where Megumi was raised by Toji and is navigating adulthood while still carrying around those old parental wounds. Hurt comfort / angst / smut. porn with a plot. praise kink girlies, this is for you. 3.6k words. super proud of this, lemme know whatcha think. luv you <3 ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

It’d been 4 months since the last time Megumi had seen you.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

He’d woken up in what used to be your apartment with the taste of liquor from the night before still lingering on his tongue and unwanted snippets of your latest fight still ringing in his ears. He rolled over to see you curled up on your side, as far away from him as you could possibly get while still sharing the same bed. He ran a hand over his face, regret and nausea churning in his stomach while more flashbacks of the argument that had caused the divide between you smashed through his mind.

His footsteps were heavy as he made his way into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. He turned the water up as hot as it would go before stripping out of his boxers. He wanted to sweat out the guilt he felt. Wanted to burn away the insults you’d both thrown at each other. Wanted to focus on anything else besides the way he’d made you cry.

He winced when the water made contact with his skin. It was scalding, fanning across his back with vengeance. But it was vengeance that he felt he deserved.

“Why?” His eyes closed, remembering how hard you were trying to keep yourself together despite the obvious pain that was plaguing your small body. The way your lip had quivered and the way your arms had protectively wrapped around your stomach when you looked up at him. “Why can’t you ever just tell me what’s going on with you?”

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to.

God, he wanted to. To open up. To tell you all of the fucked-up things that went on in his head. To voice his insecurities so that maybe they’d finally stop repeating on the same never-ending loop that they had been stuck on his whole life. To tell you that he didn’t think he was enough. To tell you that he was scared to lose you. That it was something he thought about nearly every day.

But it wasn’t that easy. He was only capable of doing what he knew, and he had absolutely no fucking idea how to deal with his own vulnerability. Let alone express it in a way that wasn't damaging to both of you.

Being raised by Toji had been like taking a master class in emotional avoidance and Megumi was very much his father’s prodigy.

He knew how to argue. He knew how to deflect. He knew how to win a fight. He knew how to manipulate a conversation so that he never had to say more than he wanted to. And he didn’t just know how to do these things, he excelled at them.

It was why he had always been so reserved. It was why he’d beat up all those kids in middle school just for looking at him. It was why at 21, rather than saying “I’m sorry” to resolve an ongoing issue with his girlfriend, he’d opted for, “Then fucking leave" instead.

He stepped out of the shower with red welts decorating his back and sweat dripping down his face. He wiped the steam away from the mirror to reveal blood-shot eyes as he wrapped a towel around his waist. His midnight hair was unusually straight and flat, pressed loosely against his forehead.

He let out an exhale, trading in his introspection for detachment when he heard the bathroom door open.

You observed him quietly, noting his reddened skin and his apparent discomfort at seeing you.

Your head tilted slightly, looking over his clenched jaw and the way his shoulders never truly relaxed. It hurt to see him and it hurt even worse to not see him, but as he stared back at you through hooded eyes, you realized that you had wasted so much time searching for softness in a place you’d never find it.

Megumi Fushiguro was beautifully broken. An intricate stained-glass mural that had been shattered by undeserving hands. Mesmerizing to look at but much too rigid to touch. And though he shined perfectly in the right lighting, your mangled fingertips were begging you to finally put the pieces down.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“It’s nothing...” You shook your head, taking in his sharp edges for what you assumed would be the last time. “You just look like him… that’s all.”

His chest tightened, a rare, visible crack forming in his usual cold demeanor as he stared back at you. He’d been able to avoid everything he didn’t want to deal with in life, everything – until he met you.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

A pint of whiskey loomed back at him from his nightstand as he ran a hand through his spiked hair, lethargically watching the ceiling fan spin above him.

His vision was hazy, his body tired from training all day. He wanted to sleep. Wanted to close his eyes and drift off for a few hours, but he knew his mind wasn’t going to grant him that mercy.

So, he drank.

Light rain tapped against his window as he held the bottle to his lips, letting a comforting burn travel down his throat while he pulled his phone out from under his pillow.

You had become a ghost in his life after that morning. A memory that he kept buried so far down, he’d almost partially convinced himself that you were actually gone. You were a late-night whisper that he’d ignore. A song on the radio that he’d immediately turn off. A stabbing, fleeting thought he’d learned to block out on his way home from work.

He had given up going to his favorite restaurants and shops in fear that you might be there. He had cut all ties with Nobara since you guys were so close, not wanting to hear anything about you. He had isolated himself to work and his apartment, not allowing himself the chance to accidentally bump into you.

He’d taken so many precautions. Did everything he possibly could to not see you. And yet, he was gradually starting to realize that maybe it’d all been in vain. That even with how much his life had changed, he was still somehow doing the exact same thing he’d done when he was with you.

After all this time, he was still running.

With one last swig, he finished off his pint and grabbed his phone again, not allotting himself enough time to backpedal.

Dialing your number was like muscle memory even with how long it'd been since he'd done it. He wasn't sure what he was going to say if you answered. He definitely wasn't sure what he was going to say tomorrow if you didn't answer. All he knew was that he was finally done avoiding you.

“Megumi…?” your voice was warm, familiar, static against his ear.

“You’re up late.”

There was a pause followed by a reluctant, “Yeah… so are you.”

He mentally kicked himself as an unsure silence settled between the two of you. He had so many things he needed to say but quickly realized that he couldn’t say any of them now that he was here.

His feelings were heavy and important and way too repressed to be spilled out over a late-night phone call. “I know it’s raining, and whatever but…” He cleared his throat. “Are you busy…?”

“Right now?” He couldn’t help but smirk at your snarky, half-hearted laugh. “I mean, it’s 1:30 in the morning. So, no. Not really.”

“Good. Come over.”

“Wait a minute, you can’t just –”

But he already had.

He ended the call, abruptly cutting off your flimsy attempt at protesting him before sending you a text with his address and standing up to dig a black t-shirt out of his closet.

His apartment was damn near spotless aside from some empty whiskey bottles littering his nightstand, but he still made compulsive laps back and forth from his bedroom to his kitchen as he threw them away and cracked a couple of windows open to let some fresh air in. It was an odd feeling, knowing that you were going to be standing in the one place that didn’t remind him of you.

He checked his phone while heading into the bathroom. You hadn't said anything, but he knew you well enough to know that you were probably only minutes away by now.

He ran contemplative fingers through his hair, making sure each spike was pointed and curled up to his satisfaction. He hated to admit it, but your words had been haunting his reflection since the morning they left your mouth. He had become painfully aware of how much his eyes, his mannerisms, his facial structure all resembled the man he didn't want to become.

His past may have already been accounted for but as he heard the knock at his front door, he finally began to see something different in the mirror that once taunted him. He watched his stare soften and his shoulders loosen. He noted how much tension his body had let go of at just the thought of you. He was about to let his guard down in the biggest way possible and instead of having a visceral reaction, he felt ready.

With one last glance at himself, he let out a decisive breath and headed down the hall. The future was in his hands and even if he did have his father's features, he knew his grasp was much steadier.

You were in an oversized grey hoodie with your hair thrown into a loose side-bun, your shorts just barely visible and your skin damp from the rain.

Neither one of you said anything, both too busy studying the person in front of you to bother with words. Your eyes trailed over him with warranted skepticism, an internal battle between logic and emotion arising the longer you looked at him.

He could see it; he could feel it - the way you wanted to trust him but couldn't.

"You came." he finally said, his voice gentler than you remembered it being.

You shrugged, almost embarrassed by your own honesty.

"You called."

The two of you exchanged the same somber smile before he nodded for you to follow him.

The smell of his cologne mixed with spring air swirled around you as you walked into his room. His walls were covered in art - framed line work, oil paintings, black and grey portraits. Everything was strategically placed and organized. His bed made neatly with white sheets and a black duvet. It was all very him.

He leaned against the wall in front of you as you took a seat on the edge of his mattress.

“How’ve you been?”

It should've been an easy question and under different circumstances, it probably would've been.

But it was late and you were on his bed and he looked beautiful and you wished he didn't and the weight of the situation was suddenly hitting you all at once.

“I've been alright.” You lied, repositioning yourself. "Just busy with classes and stuff. What about you...?"

He watched the way your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your shorts. The way you shifted your weight as you dangled one leg off of the bed and held the other against your chest.

“Quit.”

You paused, your gaze reluctantly returning to his. “Quit what?”

“Being nervous.” He pushed himself away from the wall and sat down next to you, heeding his own advice. “I just have some stuff I need to say, that's all."

You gave him a slow nod, letting go of the loose piece of thread.

His legs were spread slightly, his elbows resting on his thighs and his chin in his hands as he looked over at you. "You were right."

He had officially gained your attention with that one simple admission.

"I do need to open up more, it's just -" He took a breath, determination flickering through his eyes. "It's just fucking hard, you know? But that's not an excuse. I'm sorry. Truly. I'm sorry for everything I did to you while we were together. I should've said it the last time I saw you. I should've said it months before that. I should've just said it at least a hundred times. But I didn't, so I'm saying it now." His hand was warm as he carefully reached for yours. "I shouldn't have shut you out like I did. You're... the one person I never wanted to push away... I love you."

It felt as though all of the oxygen had been stripped from the room, your heart forgetting how to beat while you looked back at him in awe. Your thoughts were everywhere. The war of logic versus emotion still violently raging on.

His fingers laced into yours and you let them. His grasp felt safe and secure. His eyes were full of a sense of patience and vulnerability that you didn't think you'd ever seen before.

"Don't let him do this to you again." Nobara had warned you on your drive over here. "He might care about you. Hell, he might even really love you, but he doesn't know how and you can't keep making that your problem over and over again. It's not fair."

"Look..." Your breathing was uneven, your voice giving away your internal struggle no matter how hard you tried to conceal it. "I forgive you, but we... can't. I mean, we can't just keep doing this over and over. It's... not fair." It had held so much more conviction when it came from your best friend, but it was the best you could manage.

His hand disappeared from yours, wandering up to your cheek to catch tears that you didn't even realize had fallen. "Okay..." he conceded.

His tone was despondent, but his touch was soft. Light fingertips glided along your jawline, his face only centimeters apart from yours. "Then we won't."

"We won't." You repeated back to him, trying desperately to ignore the way his exhale fanned felicitously across your lips.

"Because..." You swallowed hard, watching his gaze drift carefully across your face. "We shouldn't."

He shook his head in agreement. "Absolutely shouldn't." He whispered, his hand trailing up to the back of your neck.

"And..." Emotion was putting up the fight of its life, your pupils widening as you stared back at him. "I deserve better."

"So much better." he echoed, leaning in closer, his mouth just barely grazing yours. "You deserve the fucking world."

Your body was betraying every bit of your sentiment, your breath hitching in your throat while his fingers tangled into your hair. "Megumi... you can't..."

"I'm not." his voice was like honey, his lips still ghosting yours. "All you have to do is pull away." His other hand began to slide delicately up your thigh, making it nearly impossible to focus on anything else. "Pull away and I'll walk you back to your car. We'll act like none of this ever happened."

"Megumi, please." It was a whimper. A pathetic plea that held no real merit. You weren't sure if you were begging for him to touch you or not touch you.

"I won't call you again. Won't see you again." His nails began to dig into the tenderness your inner thigh, his eyes still locked fiercely with yours. "I'll leave you alone for good this time... That's what you want, right?"

Wetness seeped between your legs as he kept on toying with the opening of your shorts. The warmth of his hand so infuriatingly close to where you wanted it and where it shouldn't be. Your already weak resolve was crumbling.

"Tell me to stop."

His forehead pressed against yours, opposite hand still holding your neck in place. "Tell me." He tried again, but all of your words had been stolen by the feeling of his palm roaming up towards your center.

With only a thin layer of fabric separating his fingers from you, he slowly began to spread you apart. If he hadn't been able to see your desperation before, he could certainly feel it now.

He watched every last bit of composure you had vanish as he started to draw soft, heavenly circles around your clit. Drowning in the little yelps and whines that you were trying so hard to bite back.

"Tell me to fucking stop."

There was suddenly no logic left in your brain. No one in control. No way to fight the way he was making you feel. You were a needy, pining mess and your body was practically groveling for him.

You finally let your lips catch his, shamelessly moaning against him while his grip tightened in your hair. "Don't -" You let out between heady breaths. "Don't stop. Please don't ever stop."

You were lost somewhere between his feral ocean eyes and the way his tongue swirled around yours.

He pulled the fabric to the side, plunging two unexpected fingers inside of you, smirking at the surprised squeal it'd gained him.

"Oh, that's my girl." He groaned, watching your eyes double in size.

Your walls were swallowing him, clenching around him shamelessly while more uncontrollable noises filled the room.

His thumb brushed against your clit, rubbing back and forth with precision as his fingers continued to slam into you. The three of them working together in perfect synchronicity. "There you go, that’s it.”

It had been so long. You knew it wouldn't take much, but you still felt pathetic when you realized you were already there. "Megumi- 'm -"

It almost caught both of you off guard how little it took. Your eyes snapped shut, your bottom lip lodged between your teeth as you soaked him. Your hips were thrusting, your pussy unapologetically dripping all over his hand while you mewled and writhed against him.

"Poor thing. Has it really been that long?"

It was somehow sweet, the way he mocked you.

His movements became more urgent, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you to your feet so that he could help you out of your clothes. Your hoodie went first, your nipples hardening as you stood in front of him.

"So fucking pretty." He praised, still sitting on the edge of the bed. His hands were warm against your waist, tugging off your shorts and underwear in one swift motion, admiring the shiny slick glistening off of your cunt.

He took a moment to look you over, quietly memorizing every inch before his own pants were tossed aside.

Your legs straddled him as he guided you on top of him, his hands placed firmly on your hips. You drew in a shallow breath, watching him rub his tip against you, wetting himself with your cum before lining his cock up with your entrance.

You slowly lowered yourself onto him, basking in that familiar, heavenly stretch he always provided you with.

“Fuuuck.”

You weren’t sure which one of you had said it, too drunk off of the way he filled you to care.

His hands were still guiding you. Uppp and dowwwnnn, not quite letting you take the full thing just yet but still giving you plenty to keep you satisfied.

You watched his reaction to the way you rode him, smiled when you noticed his eyes starting to roll back. You were grinding against him, drawing out the prettiest sounds from him with your hands clasped behind his neck.

“You’re s’fucking…” he grunted, his words suddenly harder to get out. “tight… Jesus Christ, baby. You really didn’t fuck anyone else for 4 months, did you?”

It wasn’t like you had been trying to hide it, but it was still irritating that your body sold you out before you even had the chance to have that conversation with him.

You shook your head sheepishly, a faint warmth decorating your cheeks. “Didn’t -” he was pulling you down further this time, purposefully going deeper as he watched you struggle to form a proper setence. “Didn’t - want… t- to…”

“Didn’t want anyone else inside of you, huh?” His tone was breathy, condescending almost as he continued to maneuver you to his liking. “Didn’t want anyone else to fill up this tight fucking cunt besides me, is that it baby?”

You shook your head again, this time a bit more feverishly while he continued to force your weight down onto him. Your ass now smacking against his thighs with each pump into you.

“I -” you moaned, unable to hold it together the further down you went. “I just want you. O - only you.”

He kissed you, his tongue gently parting your lips as he slowly eased you down onto his length. “I love you.” He whispered.

You tried to say it back but it was lost entirely by the way he thrusted upward without warning and slammed every last blissful inch of himself into you.

Your eyebrows knitted together, your mouth dropping open at the feeling of his tip hitting your cervix. You were a dizzy, pouty, leaky mess, looking at him with stars in your eyes as he smirked back at you. "You’re okay, baby. You can take it.”

He had you tilted at just the right angle, lined up beautifully with your g-spot. You were taking in all you could, hips hungrily rocking back and forth against him.

"You're doing so good. Just like that."

You were practically delirious, already teetering on the verge of climax when his thumb found your clit again, creating more featherlight circles and more delicious, hopeless yelps from you.

"Megumi," his name practically echoed across the room, your walls starting to smother him. "I - fuck, baby ‘m -" You tried to bury your face into his shoulder, but he wouldn't let you. His free hand was quickly under your chin, forcing your attention back on him.

"Look at me." his voice was low but thoughtful, his fingers still working relentlessly against you. "Let me fucking see it."

It was enough to break you. To have you suddenly spasming around him as you soaked him. He didn’t stop though no matter how much you squirmed against him. No matter how incredibly loud your cries became. He continued to stretch you, bullying himself into you while still teasing your clit until you were both absolutely shaking.

His lips crashed into yours, hand tangled back into your hair when you felt him start to twitch inside you, filling you up as he groaned against your mouth.

“I love you.” You whispered this time, earning an exhausted smile from him.

He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, admiring the mess he’d made out of you before kissing you again, lavishly this time as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

It was all so natural, so right. As if no time had passed at all between you two. And maybe you were biased because of where you were currently sitting, but his once rough edges looked pretty smooth from this angle.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

[pez3639]

This is probably so weird, but can you do one where Luke hughes and the readers' younger sister are dating and you have to meet him for the first time

Endings and Beginnings

Luke Hughes x Reader's Sister || Quinn Hughes x Reader (kinda not rlly. the smallest inklings of it)

WC: 2.2k Words

A/N: No I actually love this and had so much fun doing a lil emo piece about being an older sister. This probably isnt what you had in mind so my bad, this def focuses alot more on the older sister. BUT i feel like i should continue this, esp with the dead end i left there... maybe. Also NOT proofread.

⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚

“Yes, I’m on my way right now,” there was a pause in the phone call as you heard your sister's shaky breath. The silence wasn't awkward, but it wasn’t comfortable either. It was the kind that screamed hesitation, even when no words have been spoken. You let her simmer a moment before speaking up. “Hey. You’re going to cross that stage and move onto bigger and better. No more stupid 8 A.M. classes. No more forced smiles to people who talk behind your back. No more college bullshit.”

It’s a few seconds before you hear a long exhale, her quirk that always signals she's finally coming down from whatever ledge her thoughts had chased her to. “Yeah, yeah…you’re right. This is good, it’s great actually,” you continue driving, speeding actually, barely missing the pothole that you were hurtling towards. The sun glares through the windshield, illuminating the necklace that hangs from your rearview. A simple chain with a star attached to it. The sweet sentiment blinded you with a reflection of the sun before your sister's voice came to life over the phone again.

“But why does it feel like nothing's okay and everythings crashing down around me?” her voice no longer carried the anxiety that it held before, now much more quiet and watery as if her tears were collecting in her throat rather than her eyes. Its your turn to take a long exhale before reminding her of how many times she’s done this.

“Do you remember your kindergarten graduation?” you breathe out, knowing that she's hopefully slept since then, either way she lets out a huff of laughter before you continue. “You refused to crawl out of my bed that morning. You were too scared to even look at the little cap and gown. You hid under my covers and cried and cried until I held your hand and told you it would be okay. I did the same thing when you graduated middle school. I think by the time you graduated highschool you just wanted to steal my bed, but that didn’t stop me from holding your hand and telling you it was okay. And I’m doing that now. Everything is going to be fine.”

Your sister laughs at the memories of you two. That’s how it’s always been. The two of you. The two year age difference didn’t matter much, at least to you it didn’t. Most of the memories you had were of you and her. The first time she called you “sissy” while waddling towards you. The late nights on the trampoline, both of you armed with sleeping bags and flashlights that never got used since both of you were far too scared of the dark trees. Her screaming ecstatically when you graduated highschool and you subsequently having to speak for her the next day when she lost her voice. And now her college graduation. Every memory, every moment in time, splattered across your consciousness like constellations. All of those stars linking the two of you together. You and her. 

You felt your eyes sting at the thoughts of the future, both of yours carrying a certain haziness that couldn’t be defined. The only thing you knew is that you would always hold her hand through it. You continue driving with misty eyes and a tight throat before she cuts the silence.

“I love you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Her sincerity broke you out of reverie. Not ready to face those emotions yet, you let out a dry and humorless laugh, “You’d live. You’re too much like a rat to not survive without me.” Her laugh on the other side of the line mirrored yours before she was onto another anxious tangent. 

“Okay, so when you get to your seats there should be…” she drifted off before you heard her mumbling one, two, three, under her breath. The thought of her standing there in her graduation gown while still having to count on her fingers made you grin. She crackled back to life after a moment. “There should be seven seats.” 

“Seven? I thought it was just me, mom, and uh…” you trailed off guiltily at having forgotten her boyfriend's name. Luka…Leo…Logan? No none of those were right as you shook your head at the names that popped up. “Your boyfriend?” 

“Did you really forget his name?” she accused in a dry tone. You pressed the brakes as you took a right turn before grimacing. Shit. “Oh yeah I definitely did…sorry?” She laughed a little at your antics as you continued to try and think of names. In your defense, you’d never met the guy, no less seen a picture of him. The relationship was still a bit new, so you never pressed about it, understanding that maybe she wanted to keep it a little more hidden as they grew closer with one another.

“Oh my god I can’t believe you, and yes he’ll be there, but so will his family.”

Your eyebrows shot up at the new information, “Holy shit, does mom know?” you question, wondering if you were the last to receive this news.

“Yes because she actually reads our group chat messages”

“Whatever,” you say dryly and with an eyeroll, “Okay, I’ll get there and make sure all the seats are good. Don’t worry about it. Everything is going to go great. Now go get in line or whatever you have to do at these things.” The two of you exchanged goodbyes as you got in line for the car park and hung up the phone. The college she attended wasn’t crazy big, but it definitely had a bigger student body than the small-town highschool the both of you attended. Eventually you found a spot and pulled in. You gathered your purse, coat, and ticket into your lap before just sitting there and staring. You felt the ache in your chest begin. The ache that always accompanies growing up. 

It felt like just yesterday that the two of you were giggling and ogling over your prom date. It was just last week that you two were pulling her last baby tooth. Only a month ago you two were running through the sprinklers in the backyard. But in reality, all of that was years ago. Your mind playing a cruel trick to bring up heart-ache and nostalgia. Nostalgia for times that were long gone and never coming back.

The trees along the pathways were budding in the late spring. The blossoms would woefully float down to the ground as if they were scared to let go of their mother branch. Two living things being torn apart by the movement of time. The lively weather was rolling in, a shift from the hoppy wistfulness of spring to the slow and sweltering heat of the summer. Collecting yourself, you unzip your purse to tidy up before heading into the large chapel where commencement was held. Pulling down your mirror, a polaroid stare back at you. Your own college graduation, more rather the pre-party. You hope your sister had that. One last stand with the people she's come close to. At least for now. They may end up bridesmaids, or co-workers, or strangers. Breathing out a heavy sigh, you blot your nose with powder as you take yourself in. Older and more mature than what you were when you graduated. 

Pushing up the mirror, you begin to shift and prepare for the walk to your seat. Unbuckle, open the door, and go. It should be easy but your body drags as if your bones have been turned to lead. Of course you were excited for your sister and her future, but you couldn’t help but mourn for the times before this. Before these big life events. Before you two grow old. You shut the car door and follow the masses to the chapel. The air serves as a lifeline of breath as the old brick walls enter your eyesight. So many people have gathered here to watch and celebrate someone. Everyone here has come together to support one another. It's warming to know such a diverse and expansive group of people can come together for a cumulative reason.

Getting closer and closer, people start collecting tickets as you walk past. You hand yours over and receive a program in exchange. You continue to walk further into the warm atmosphere of the church. Finding your sister placecards, you count out seven and shoot a text to your mom. You take a seat and shed your jacket while glancing around you. There's not many decorations, just some balloons and streamers here and there. A projector screen is in the middle of the stage where pictures of the graduates scroll through. Many of them are club and sports photos, but every now and then a straggler will pop out at you. Your mother begins to walk down the row of seats and chooses the spot to your left, sitting at the end of your reserved seats, meaning you’d have to sit next to these people you've never met before.

Once settled, your mother kisses your cheek and pats your knee in a comforting way, both of you feeling the emotion of today. She begins to make small talk, half of which you’re zoned out for, only throwing in a nod and Uh-huh here and there. About ten minutes pass before a family of five begins scooting down the rows of seats. Three boys and what you’re assuming are their parents. Your mother grabs you hand as she stands, pulling you up with her. Exclaiming in excitement, she greets the older woman first before saying hello to the boys.

“Oh Ellen it’s so good to see you here! She’ll be so happy that everyone made it.” Your mother speaks around you before introducing the family to you. Ellen, Jim, Quinn, Jack, and Luke. Right, his name was Luke. You remember your sister dropping it a few times. You all sit down, with Luke sitting to your right. You try to inconspicuously look him over, but probably failing. He tall and looks lanky under his somewhat formal attire. His dress pants fit loosely around his legs but his polo wrapped around his bicep. His curls looked well maintained, something you had no doubt that your sister had a hand in. He extended his hand to you before choking out a quiet “Hi, I’m Luke.”

You raised an eyebrow a bit and felt the corner of your mouth tug at his nervousness, your older sister protectiveness dropping by a lot at the simple gesture. “Hi, it's nice to meet you Luke.” You offered your name to him before making basic small talk. He told you about his brothers while you gave stories of your sister. While you two were playing with the hose and making mud puddles, the three brothers spent their time together enjoying hockey. As he continued to talk about himself, you understood why your sister chose him. He was the youngest of his brothers and close to all of them, especially Jack. You were glad that she found a family that loves each other as much as yours does. 

Soon his brothers joined in the conversation, making you realize how different he was from your sister. She was outgoing and fun but also had a soft side. You could imagine Luke bringing it out of her more, the two of them sharing a coffee and eating dinner. You understood that the two were more than just a new couple, they truly complimented and matched each other. Luke would often find himself going red as he defended himself from his brothers chirps at him. Moreso Jacks than Quinns. Jack was a true middle sibling–  boisterous, witty, and a bit cocky. Quinn on the other hand was different from both of the boys, from his dark and tousled hair, to the scruff that adorned his jaw, and the heavier look in his eyes. You recognized that look all too well as you caught eyes and he smiled at you, making your heart flutter. You averted you eyes as people began filing onto the stage as the music began to draw in. Everyone hushed as the graduates walked down the aisles and up to the risers on the stage.

As the ceremony continued, speakers came and went. Each one following the same formula on hitting the highs and lows of college. Admin and local “celebrities” filtered to the mic before congratulating the class and sitting down. As long-winded as the ceremony was, you don't miss the way Luke jumps from his chair along with you and your mom when your sister gets called to walk the stage. Or the way he’s grinning ear to ear when he sees his family cheering just as loud as him. It brought a smile to your face. Quinn caught your eye again as you shared a knowing look.

After the ceremony, the graduates ran to their loved ones. You barely had time to brace yourself before your sister borderline launched herself into you. Shes bouncing everywhere between people, from you, to your mother, to Luke, then Quinn and Jack, before slowing down with Ellen and Jim. Everyone stands congratulating her, with Luke showing extra affection for her. Always a hand on the small of her back or interlocked with hers. Everyone continues to mingle before a head of dark hair appears in front of you.

“Hi, I’m Quinn.”

[kavlitzlver]

2007 tom and f!reader go to the same school blah blah blah and then they do it in a classroom when the classes are over OR hcs about how they go to the same school both sfw and nsfw thank u

OKAY I LOVE THIS IDEA i can work with this, just hope you like it <33

be quiet.

Tom Kaulitz x Fem!reader

summary: You and Tom go to the same school together and secretly have been friends with benefits for quite some time now, neither of your other band members or anyone else at school knows, but seeing each other in school all the time and not fuck is harder than you both thought….

warnings : rough sex, p in v sex, fingering, oral sex

——————————————————

I feel his hand on my lap, slowly moving towards my inner thigh, his thumb stroking the soft skin of my legs that peeked through the tight black skirt I was wearing. “Tom..” I mumble as i nudge him, he grinned at my widened eyes as i scanned the room for any curious looks from our classmates, scared that someone might notice. It was so weird that no one noticed the looks Tom and I gave each other recently, how we behaved less like best friends but more like a couple, I feel like he didn’t even notice it himself. We’ve been sleeping with each other for a few months now, one day he’s my best friend and we’re goofing around like always, the next his hand is wrapped around my neck while he’s deep inside me. It was confusing.

“Been too long y/n….need you” he whispered into my ear, causing a shiver to run down my spine, those words alone were enough to just take him right here and there, to send me over the edge in the middle of class.

“After school ‘kay?” I take his hand and place it back down on the table, nudging him in the shoulder “We’re in the middle of-“

“Y/n. Might wanna share what you and Tom are talking about? Sounds interesting” the teacher interrupted us, making me flinch away from him, I shook my head and focussed back on the lesson. I saw Bill turning around to us and giving me a silly look, I knew that he knew something was going on, it was Bill, he sensed those things. “After school at my place.” I say to Tom, not even looking at him when I felt his hand back on my thigh, he was so needy, so horny, all the damn time, I cross my legs, automatically making it impossible for him to arouse me, I could hear his sigh as he tried to focus back on the lesson.

—————————————————

Math class was over, I started packing up my stuff and was about to leave the room when I felt a tight grip around my waist. “Wait a sec.” Tom smirked, pulling me back to our seats, “Lets skip Biology hm?” he had that lustful grin on his face, his hands tightened, his tongue playing with his lip ring, I couldn’t say no, not to this look, not to him staring me up and down like that. “Can’t wait till after school..”

“You guys coming?” Bill stopped mid way, looking at us with crossed arms and raised eyebrows, i clear my throat. “Go ahead, we skip” Tom responded in a confident voice, knowing Bill would never skip a class in the last week of school. Bill nodded disappointedly, heading outside the classroom with Georg and Gustav, who looked just as confused.

I watched as Tom walked to the entry of the room, closing the door and locking it after making sure no one had seen us. I was taking off my jacket when I felt his two warm hands on my waist, his fingers digging into my soft skin, pulling me back in a swift motion, he presses me close to him, showing me how hard he is as he started kissing my neck. I was tense, unsure if that was really a good idea, wouldn’t we get in huge trouble when someone catches us?

“Tom I-“ he turns me around in a quick motion, my words being interrupted by a rough kiss, his hands wandered down to my thighs, gripping my legs and lifting me up on one of the tables. “You look so good in that skirt…so fucking good” his raspy whisper send shivers down my spine, he groaned into my neck as he grinded against my core through the soft material of my skirt. I let myself fall into the moment, shaking off every concern I had when I found my way into his jeans, unbuttoning them with the other and taking out the belt through the loops in a rough motion, throwing it somewhere on the floor.

The grin on his face as I started to slowly run my fingers along his length was unbearable, the way his eyes turned so lustful, he was making me insane, I get a hold onto his cock and start moving my hand back and forth, causing his grin to turn into a gasp, his head leaned back.

I take his pants off, letting them pool at his feet when I get off the table and down on my knees, my hands placed on his waist, my tongue liking the tip before I almost swallow him whole, the room now filled with his groans as he grabbed my hair into a ponytail. His moans like music to my ears, a grin formed on my face as I saw the pleasure I caused him. “Fuck…..”

“Get up….need to hurry baby” I shivered when he called me that, he never did before, I do as he said and sat back down on the table, i didn’t even bother taking of my skirt when Toms finger already played with the thin material of my panties, pulling them to the side and entering his middle finger into me in a swift motion, leaving me a moaning mess. He curled his finger just the right way to hit my g spot, his dreads falling into my face as he sucked on the soft skin of my neck, leaving marks just as always.

“Tom we need to hurry…” Moans cut off my speech, he nodded and exited my core, a gasp leaving my mouth as he licked my juices off his finger, positioning himself before my entrance. He entered me roughly, his hands on my waist as he pushed into me hard, not even stopping so I could adjust. “just like that..” he groaned, digging his fingers into my flesh. He quickened his pace even more, mouth open as he moaned in pleasure, his heartbeat racing just as mine as he kissed me roughly, his tongue intertwining with mine. I broke the kiss as i couldn’t contain my whimpers, sensing that i’m close to reaching my peak, “gonna cum..”

“I’m not done.” he grabbed me by my neck with one hand, the other now found a way under my skirt, his thumb circling around my clit when my legs began to tense, a satisfied smirk resting on his face as he witnessed the effect he had on me. My eyes were shut, mouth open as one moan escaped after the other when suddenly we heard someone trying to open the door.

Tom stayed inside me, but slowed down his movements as he continued to move in and out, his hand now roughly placed on my mouth to stop me from moaning. It seemed like whoever wanted to enter was now gone and Tom quickened up his pace again, rubbing my clit with his thumb and buttoning me completely until I was a moaning mess and reached my high. Tom was near the end too when his movements became sloppier and he finally released himself.

“Good girl…so…so good” he mumbled as our foreheads touched, “mhm…” i nod trying to catch my breath. I watched as Tom put his pants back on, handing me a paper towel to clean myself up before he kissed my neck one last time. He brushed my hair behind my back when a grin appeared on his face “hickeys look good on you.” I slapped him on the shoulder, my hand immediately on my neck when I ran to the mirror in the front of the classroom.

“I told you to stop doing that”

He opened the classroom door, completely ignoring my complain, “let’s go…before someone sees us”

——————————————————

Tom and I waited outside the school for the rest, seeing Bill, Georg and Gustav walk out the door, laughing about something.

“You guys wouldn’t believe what Sophie heard in one of the classrooms-“ I looked at Gustav with raised eyebrows, “Two people were having sex in the last lesson!” Georg continued where Gustav started, laughing his ass off just like the rest when Tom gave me a playful look, smirking at me. I faked my reaction, gasping when I kicked Tom in the chest.

“What?! Who would do that?!”

“Someone like Tom would…” Bill winked at his twin, I was right, he definitely knew.

[lettersoftheshygirl]

"when did you get so pretty?" caleb (l&ds) x fem!reader

part 2/3

derek

please tell your friend to stay away fron me this is gettingserisiu i BARLEY DID NAYTHING OTYOU sent 1:20am

you stared at the message on your phone with a frown on your face. this had to be an accident, right? this text felt like it was written in a drunken haze, high off the charts and probably half-asleep somewhere but something felt off about it. what did he mean by your "friend?"

derek was a good guy. nothing special. the two of you had classes together so obviously you guys met, but that was it. you were never too close with him or any boys at that. you had been like that since childhood. men sort of irked you, except for caleb. he was also very overprotective of you back then. and due to the two of you being a bit distant lately, it was hard to tell if he was still the same.

back in primary school. seven year old caleb got in trouble for pushing a guy in the playground who was being a bit too rough with you. your grandmother came to talk to the principal who was trying to soothe the other parents, who claimed caleb was dangerous and unlike all the other childred, and even called you names! of course, that was when you were kids. would he still do that? would he still be that reckless to intimidate someone because he just wants you all by himself?

it was hard to tell. you sighed softly as you began to form a text to reply to derek, who without a doubt was still writing some thing since he had been typing for a minute.

you

no idea what ur talking about u good? sent 8:03am

derek

NO IM NOT WHY DOSE EH THUNK WER'E GOING TO THE GALA TOGETHER??? I AVEH A GD FD GF read 8:06am

what? all of your thoughts suddenly made sense. of course this was caleb. of course he would intimidate the one guy you dared to interact with, of course he would get jealous over a stupid lie, of course he would be behind it all.

a part of you felt horrible for derek. his texts were.. frantic, and frankly quite funny without context but you still felt guilty for bringing him in between your messed up relationship with your best friend.

caleb loved you. he always said that. "maybe i love you a bit more than you realise," he always said that to you when you guys had a disagreement. he loved you more and more everyday, and that love made him do things that scared you. why would he do this about a gala he didn't even know was happening til you said it a couple nights ago? did it hurt him that bad? did you really stoop so low to annoy him that you potentially hurt a classmate of yours because of this love that you kept feeding and feeding.

what did you feel for him? caleb was everything to you. growning up when you would sit in class, lonely and afraid he would always console you. when you were in middle school and going through an 'emo' phase and refused to talk to anyone, he waited for you. he was there for you every day, every year, every second, every weak, every where with you. you couldn't imagine a life without him. but.. at the same time, your chest ached remembering all the missed dates from guys who liked you, all the guys you liked but never approached, all the missed opportunities for teen love, all the fun you could be having but sheltered for a love both of you killed each other to have and thrive.

you buried your hands in your hair, the feeling of pain slowly turning into anger. you were mad. it was caleb's fault. he was the one that caused all of this, caused you to miss so many things in life. this one incident was just the breaking point from his latest behaviour which stayed in the back of your mind.

taking your phone out once again, you checked your location app to see where caleb was; his apartment. you wasted no time to put your shoes on and grab a jacket as you walked out the door. it didn't matter to you what he wanted right now, you wanted to talk to him and tell him to back off your life. a sharp breath left your mouth as you felt the cold winds on your face, could you really do this?

as you arrived in front of caleb's penthouse appartment, it was too late to back down. you gripped your jacket tightly in an attempt to calm your nerves as you waited for him to open the door. the sound of calm footsteps occured and the a soft click sound of the lock.

the door opened to reveal your.. handsome best friend. whose hair was still wet from the shower he took prior, long bangs falling in front of his forehead, a blue t-shirt hugging the taut muscles in his body and his signature silver chain sitting pristine in his smooth, milky skin. damn it. despite his looks, your face remained neutral. it was difficult but you did it. he didn't say anything for a second, and neither did you, but he saw the look on your face.

"what's the matter, pip-?"

"no. i talk today." you said, putting your finger up which he thought was rather funny but just kept quiet, putting his hands up in a defenseless motion. you took in a deep breath and put your hands on your waist, trying to form your words in a way that did not seem outwardly aggressive. "how do you know derek?"

"i don't."

"don't lie."

"why don't you get inside?"

"why don't you stop lying?" his face went from sweet and caring to an angry frown within seconds. he looked at you with his bright blue eyes, jaws locked as he narrowed his eyes for a second at you and you scoffed. "coward." you mumbled, loud enough for him to hear it, and quiet enough for him to take it personally.

"i didn't do anything bad to him, okay?" caleb said, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned against the doorframe and looked down at you. he was getting mad as well, and he did not like how you kept refusing to listen to him and get inside. "i just-"

"just what?" you interrupted him once again, "just threatened him, intimidated him, and what else? can you list all of them so we can get it over with?" you felt bad for berating him like this, and you felt worse that those puppy dog eyes were looking back at you but right now it didn't matter.

“y/n–”

"you know what it doesn't matter right now!' your voice a little louder than you anticipated, "you're always meddling with my life thinking that you're actually keeping me safe when you're making my life miserable!" caleb clenched his jaw as he kept his eyes on you, hands balling into a fist from anger and frustration, “i wish you were never my friend at all!"

you regretted the words as soon as soon as you said it, but which was it; never or friend? the two of you stood there for a second before he moved from the door and looked at you with a stern look. your pride told you to stand there but caleb's icy cold hand grabbed your arm and pulled you inside.

"hey-!" you couldn't even speak as he locked the door behind you, the sound echoing, foreshadowing the future.

an awkward air filled the room as his hand left yours, "i did threaten him. i did intimidate him and i did punch him, so what?" he spoke, his words matched with the calm tone that she spoke with made a shiver go down your spine as you looked up to match his gaze. "you were going to go out with that clown. do you think i was going to let that happen?

do you think that i have spent all these years of my life being next to you, protecting you, for nothing?" his hand came to your jaw, tilting your face higher as his eyes fell to your lips for a split second, quick enough to be missed if you blinked, "you have your right to be angry, but what about me? you turned yourself blind to me and my love, you turned yourself away from me when all i ever wanted was you." his thumb traced your bottom lip, making your breath hitch.

you felt like you were in a dream. was this really happening?

"caleb-"

"are we really just friends, y/n?" he asked, his eyes closing as he took a step closer to you, his forehead touching yours as his hot breath fanned against your face, "do friends cuddle together? do friends feel like they can't breathe when they see the other enter a room? do friends have to physically hold themselves back because of how they feel?" he whispered, his voice getting quieter with each and every word.

"no," your voice was quiet too, but your words were loud. "i don't think so," you felt his other hand slide down your waist and pull you closer, making a sigh leave your lips.

"i don't think so either." he whispered, his lips brushing against yours as he opened his eyes to look at your face up close. he had dreamt of this for ages. your pretty flushed face, big doe eyes and sweet pink lips waiting all for him. "we'll always be together," he said, "in life and in death."

his lips met yours both softly and hungrily. his mouth devouring yours as his other hand held the back of your head to keep you from moving. his tongue slipped inside yours, tasting the Red Bull and mints you had all day. teeth clashed against each other, hands ravaged on clothes and hearts synced up to the same beat. all you wanted to do was kiss him and kiss him and kiss him.

"please, y/n." he whispered, "don't leave now." he was almost whimpering, breathing heavy against your lips as he kept on kissing you like he needed air to breathe.

"i won't." you reassured him, hands going to his neck, "i promise." but you weren't sure.

you had just kissed your best friend, your childhood friend, a person who your grandmother said was like your brother, a person who had been with you every step of the way. a person who held your hand when you cried and stood behind you when you fell. would that still be the case now that things were.. different?

caleb's hand caressed your cheek as his forehead rest against yours. he smelled good - fresh, like soap and mint. the quaint remnants of his cologne made your head dizzy and thighs squeeze together.

he sighed against your face, "i want to.." he paused, his eyes meeting yours, "..live in the same world as you. i want to feel your warmth and hug you close." he said, his heart heavy with emotions that he had been bottling up since the first time he saw you.

it was hard to watch you be with other guys and like other guys when you were clearly the one for him and he for you! did he go to extreme measures sometimes? yes, but it never mattered because at the end of the day, the two of you were meant to be.

"i can't.. hold it any longer, y/n." his voice was a deep rumble, like a silent confession of the clouds by thunders from far away.

as his words finished his lips were back on yours, this time they were softer and more intimate. taking his time to devour you from the inside out. his hands wrapped around your waist as his legs stepped forward, pushing you back, gently guiding you back to his room but you hit the coffee table, making the two of you stop.

"i- uh.. sorry, i-"

"shush.. shh.." his lips barely moved away from yours as he stumbled the two of you into his bedroom. a room you had been to a thousand times, but never like this. never with your lips on his and his hands on your ass.

caleb was a very messy kisser. you did not expect that. of course, there were times when you imagined how your best friend would kiss you, and you always thought: professional. he seemed like he had a lot of experience right? and he appeared very dominant and no-nonsense, but that wasn't the case at all. his mouth took almost all of yours entirely, messily kissing you with teeth and tongue everywhere. he even tasted different; like gin and gum.

as you dropped to his bed, he looked down at you for a second, admiring you. the countess times he imagined having you in his bed; naked, clothed, in his clothes, however that was, it was now coming true. he leaned down slowly, maintaining eye contact as he brushed a few strands of your bangs away from your face to look at you better.

"are we really doing this?" he asked in a quiet murmury voice, his eyes moving from your lips to your eyes. his body was on top of yours, his legs in between yours and chest connected; hearts on top of one another. "we can stop if you want. we can watch a movie, cuddle, pretend like it never happened." he whispered.

"why?" you asked, confused and frustrated, "what.. what are we?"

"whatever you want me to be." he said, his face serious and lips forming a thin line, as if composing himself, "i can be your friend, your best friend. i can.. be your fuck-buddy. your boyfriend. your family." he paused, his finger trialing down from your jaw to the valley between your chest. "what do you want me to be, pip-squeak?"

your breath hitched as his index finger lowered to your chest, your cheeks turning a bright pink and lips parting as you sighed. "won't it be awkward if i say i want us to be family right about now?" you joked, making him smirk.

"don't say it, pip-squeak. i dare you." he laughed, making you sigh once again. it was too big of a decision to make at the heat of the moment, and your joke would only deflect it for so long.

"take your shirt off." he didn't need to be said twice. he moved to his side, taking his shirt off and revealing his toned six-pack abs and strong muscles. your hands came to his biceps, tracing down to his forearms before you leaned in for a kiss.

your thoughts were barely working as his hands slipped under your t-shirt and grabbed your breast over your bra, making a soft sigh leave your lips. your heartbeat had never been faster, and your stomach felt like it had been typing knots again and again and again. his lips stayed on yours as his hand slid down to your pants, going under them and tracing the hem of your panties before pushing your leg further open to have easier access.

he groaned softly from feeling how wet you were. your panties had a hard patch in the middle from you constantly squeezing your thighs, it wasn't the first time this had happened due to caleb's tactics. he leaned back once again, pulling your pants off of you as you took your shirt off.

"you look really pretty like this," he whispers so naturally, his hand grabbing your leg and kissing your ankles, slowly going higher and higher. everything he did to you, he did so effortlessly, like he had been doing it for years. maybe it's just the years of friendship talking, but either way, it felt good. really good. "so pretty." he whispered again as he reached your inner thighs, his puppy dog eyes looking up at yours in a way that made your stomach churn.

his nose pressed right against your panties, taking in a deep inhale of your scent as he exhaled. "fuck, you smell so good." he groaned, pulling your panties to the side. with his free hand he moved your slick around everywhere, spreading it over, and dipping his fingers inside. it felt too good. you tried to keep quiet, not embarras yourself but every now and then a small whimper would leave your lips which woud just make him hungrier for you.

caleb was also torturing himself by not tasting you. his dick was getting harder and harder to the point it hurt so bad. he needed to take it off his trousers right now but he kept his patience. "god, you're so wet." he laughed airily, "i barely touched you." he hummed, bringing his fingers to his lips to taste your sweetness. his hips grinded against the bed in a pathethic attempt to make himself feel better but he knew nothing would do justice in comparison your pussy.

his mouth was godsent to you. he devoured every inch of you like he was a starved man. he was desperate, pulling you closer to him, grabbing onto your hips and thighs and bitting into your flesh making you moan and grab onto his hair. "i need you to be louder, baby." he would whisper, "i have been waiting to hear you like this for so long. i want each of your whimpers, moans and screams engraved into my mind."

his fingers would tease as he ate you out. moving in and out in a slow pace compared to his mouth, his tongue is ruthless but his fingers are slow and soft. each groan would send a vibration against your clit that made your legs close up against his head, and god, did he love that feeling.. being trapped in between your legs. it was heaven to him.

"caleb, i-" your words would barely be coherent as you approached your climax. hips rising from the bed and whines leaving your mouth as tears formed at the corner of your eyes. you body twitched as he spit against your clit to lubricate it a bit more, three fingers entering inside of you and making you stretch so much.

"such a good girl." he whispers, crawling closer to you as his forehead rests against yours. his eyes bore into your face, taking in every expression; the closed eyes, the tears that roll down as your lips part and soft moans fill the room, everything was perfect to him. he would kiss your cheek and press his cheek against yours, "come for me, pip-squeak." he whispers, so sweetly and gently that you think it's a whole different person. "let me make you feel good."

your climax comes as he twists and curls his fingers inside of you, hitting that one spot over and over again that made you see colourful stars. and when you did finish, the two of you laid there for a second, your heavy breathing echoing throughout the room as his head pressed against your chest.

"did that feel good?" caleb's hands moved to your bra, pulling the straps slowly to send goosebumps along your body, "did that.." he paused, pulling you a bit closer to unhook the back of the bra, "satisfy.. you?" he threw the bra somewhere on the room, making you sigh as you threw your head back on the soft matress.

"yes." was all you could say. it felt too good to even put to words, perhaps you were too tired to do so right now, but either way, it felt really good. you felt caleb press short and wet kisses all over your chest before putting one of your nipples into his mouth. a soft moan escaped your lips, back arching from the lingering sensitivity as his hands caressed your sides and he bit into your nipples softly, making you gasp and your nails dig into his bicep.

dipping a bit down, your hands moved to the waist band of his pants. caleb wastes no time, he pushes his pants off him, kicking it of off him before pulling you closer once again.

he ogled at you, right? and now, you can't help but ogle at him. he had the most gorgeous.. dick. it was big, very big. big enough for you to wonder if it would even fit inside you or not. with veins on the side and it was so.. pink.

"what? you don't like it?" caleb joked, wrapping his arms around your waist as he began to kiss your neck and jaw. you felt your cheeks flush at that comment slightly. was your staring that obvious?

"shut up."

leaning over, he hovers over you for a second before leaning to kiss you. he spreads your legs with his and sighs softly when he feels your hands wrap around his neck to pull him closer. he takes his time here, he showers you in affection and kisses, almost as if he was stalling to do the very last step; but in reality, he was just scared. he always was. he relied on you to give him reassurance and encourage him and this was the same. and you could feel it.

"caleb.." you whispered his name softly, his lips moving from your collarbone to your jaw, "i need you.. please," you sighed. your hands came to caress the sides of his cheek as you brought him closer, your foreheads touching as his hands spread your legs further.

"i love you, y/n." he whispered, his tip grazing against your clit as he slowly began to slip it. the stretch was painful. not only was he big, but his girth was majestic. he was big in every way and it was both painful and heavenly. your back arched as he buried his head in your neck and slowly began to thrust in and out.

that rhythm only lasted a few seconds.

caleb could barely control himself as your gummy walls caved into him. his thrusts became faster, harsher, and rougher. one hand around your neck keeping you in place and another holding him up as he kept thrusting and thrusting and thrusting. he was not shy in the noise department either, he would whimper, moan and beg you in ways that made you clench and him groan.

"caleb- i.." you whined, "i'm close-" your words didn't even reach him. he just kept going and going. and he did so after you were finished as well. both of your juices were mixed and his bedsheets soaked, but he showed no signs of stopping.

he had you after so long and he just had to make it up. after a while, he switched you over, making you sit on top of him as his hands wrapped around your waist to hold you up. one of his hands came to the back of your neck and made you look up, "we fit right in together," he whispered, voice hoarse and rough, face coated in sweat but his eyes.. they were so filled with loved, it hurt to even look. "we were made from the same cloth. if there is no one for us, then we are both dead. we are meant to be together, in this lifetime or the next." he said, placing a soft kiss on your lips.

-

a/n:

repost cuz it lowk flopped and i will not accept that. hope u enjoyed it !!11!! love ya'llsss <333

[allurearia]

Lean on.

Bakugou katsuki x reader.

Where Your childhood friend is a bit pissed you didn't call for him first.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

Honestly, you couldn’t remember a day when you and Bakugou weren’t joined at the hip. From sharing crayons in kindergarten to regularly sleeping over at his house since middle school, from opening your UA acceptance letters together to both of you being placed in the same class. It’s always been the two of you. Even if he’d never admit it. He’d always been the protective, overbearing one, making sure no one messed with you, even if he called you names or yelled at you. But you knew he didn’t mean it. That was just Bakugou being Bakugou.

But today was different.

It was an early morning training session that Mr. Aizawa had set up to get everyone warmed up for the upcoming practical exam and pro hero internships. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon, The sky was still a very light shade of blue as if you could see the darkness of the night slowly fade and welcome the first rays of sunlight. As you and your classmates gathered at Ground Beta, shivering slightly in the crisp air. Despite the early hour, everyone seemed fired up and ready to push themselves, well-

everyone except you.

Bakugou noticed right away.

You weren’t purposefully slacking or anything, but your movements were a second slower, your focus was a bit off. He’d watched you rub your eyes more than once, blinking furiously as if to keep yourself awake. You were tired. Probably had trouble sleeping again, he had guessed.

“Oi, dumbass,” he grumbled, sidling up beside you making sure his gauntlets were slightly tilted back so as to not bump them into you as the rest of the class listened to Aizawa’s instructions. “Did you sleep at all last night?”

“Hmm?” You glanced up at him, smiling a little sheepishly. Your eyes forming into a crescent shape. “Oh, yeah. Just couldn’t fall asleep, I guess. I’ll be fine.”

Bakugou frowned, his eyes narrowing. He knew you often had trouble sleeping as of late and the continuous early morning practices Mr Aizawa was setting up to prepare his students to intern under pro heroes were not helping in the slightest, Just As he was about to scold you, Aizawa’s sharp gaze flickered to the two of you.

“If the two of you are done chatting, we can begin the drills,” Aizawa drawled dryly, causing a few snickers to ripple through the class. You flushed, ducking your head as Bakugou scowled, his hands sparking with irritation.

“Whatever, old man,” Bakugou muttered, turning back to you with a warning glare. “Just don’t push yourself too hard got it?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you murmured, offering him a small, reassuring smile. “I’ll be fine, Katsuki. Promise.”

You were in fact, not fine.

As the one on one training had started everyone was busy with their own fights and opponents. Your heart had started to race a bit when you saw you were going up against Todoroki of all people. You quickly took in a deep breath trying to steady your nerves.

After all, even when you're not at your fullest potential, going up against a guy who you knew had a major advantage over you wasn't the most reassuring.

“Ready?” Todoroki asked softly, his mismatched eyes studying you intently.

“Yeah,” you nodded, dropping into a fighting stance. “Let’s do this.”

You quickly fell into your routine, dodging his ice attacks and trying to land hits on him, striking back with agility. With each move, you felt your confidence building. Todoroki was a formidable opponent, but you were determined to keep up with him. As the match wore on, you found yourself pushing harder, adrenaline coursing through your veins.

The match was brutal. Todoroki’s precision and control over his Quirk kept you on the defensive. You dodged as best you could, but the sheer power behind his ice and fire attacks was overwhelming. A particularly strong ice wall sent you skidding back, your feet losing traction as you slipped.

As Todoroki’s ice path with a blunt end surged towards you, you reacted instinctively, thrusting your hands in front of your face to shield yourself from the brunt of the hit. Trying to minimize the damage he would have on you. The cold air swirled around you as the ice collided with your left side, just below your waist, sending a shock of pain coursing through your body. You stumbled slightly, feeling the sharp chill bite into your skin and the hard surface press against you.

“Damn it!” you gasped, being pushed back but still standing on your feet. Clutching your stomach, trying to stop the pain from spreading.

“Are you okay?” you hear worry in Todorokis voice as he jogs towards you slightly open your eyes to see him better.

You winced, testing your limbs. Your hip throbbed painfully, and you knew you’d probably had to make a quick visit to the recovery girls stand which was close by. “ It's slight, I'm fine,” you muttered, trying to wave him off. But when you tried to stand, pain shot up your stomach, making you suck in a sharp breath.

“Easy” Todoroki murmured, slipping his arm under yours and gently pulling your arm over his shoulder. “Let me help you.”

The contact made you freeze, your face flushing slightly. You rarely lean on others for help, but right now, you don't have much of a choice. You let out a sigh, nodding reluctantly as you allowed him to take some of your weight.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, feeling a bit self-conscious.

“It’s no problem,” he replied softly, his gaze flickering to your injured stomach. “Let’s get you to Recovery Girl.”

“I apologize i thought i had made the end of the attack blunt but it seems i miscalculated”

“It's quiet alright Todoroki-san its training we’re bound to get hurt.”

He only hummed in response.

As Todoroki began leading you off the training field, you couldn’t help but glance over your shoulder. It seemed like Katsuki was paired up with Kirishima, Barely acknowledging the red heads continuous attack he was sending powerful blasts of his own. The clash of their Quirks sent shockwaves through the training field.

His crimson gaze, usually sharp and unwavering during battle, flickered in your direction. You were leaning against Todoroki, the icyhot bastard guiding you off the field with his arm around your waist. Something hot and unpleasant twisted in Bakugou’s chest at the sight.

The intensity of his stare made your breath catch. Causing a slight pain in your stomach due to the injury. You’d never seen Bakugou look at anyone like that before. It was almost like—

The explosive blond felt his jaw clench. A flash of orange erupted in his palm as he shoved Kirishima back, almost too forcefully. Kirishima stumbled but quickly regained his stance, looking at Bakugou with a mix of confusion and concern.

“Dude, what’s—?”

“Shut it,” Bakugou snapped, his voice gruff. His gaze never left you and Todoroki, the seething jealousy churning in his gut making it impossible to focus on anything else.

“Bakugou!” you called out, wincing as you adjusted your position against Todoroki. “I’ll be fine, okay?”

He didn’t respond—couldn’t respond. Not when all he could think about was how much he hated seeing you lean on someone else for support, especially him.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

You shifted under the covers for what felt like the hundredth time that night, frustration building as sleep continued to evade you. Your stomach ached faintly from earlier in the day’s training session, though Recovery Girl had patched it up. She’d assured you it was nothing serious—a light sprain, just sore if you put too much pressure on it.

Still you couldn't sleep.

Letting out a huff of annoyance, you finally gave up on the idea of sleeping. Maybe a change of scenery would help you clear your head. You threw off your blanket and carefully swung your legs over the side of the bed, wincing slightly when your foot touched the ground. The floor was colder then you imagined.

Slowly, you made your way down to the common room, the quietness of the night was almost comforting, you exhaled a deep breath as you rounded the corner.

But your steps faltered when you saw a familiar spiky-haired figure lounging on the couch, his gaze flickering to you the moment you appeared. Bakugou sat there, priviously looking out through the huge glass windows the common room had harboured.

“The hell are you doing up?” he grumbled, eyes narrowing as he took in your form. “Shouldn’t you be resting?”

You offered him a weak smile, moving to sit on the other end of the couch. “Couldn’t sleep. Thought some fresh air might help. What about you?”

“Couldn’t sleep either,” he mumbled, looking away. There was something off about the way he was avoiding your gaze, and you had a feeling you knew why. His fingers tapped restlessly against the armrest, a telltale sign of his pent-up frustration.

“I’m fine now, y’know,” you said softly, hoping to ease the tension. “My stomach barely hurts anymore.”

“Yeah, ’cause that’s why you’re limping around like a dumbass,” he shot back, his tone sharper than intended. He paused, taking a breath before glancing at you again. “And don’t think I forgot how you let that half-and-half bastard carry you like that.”

There it was the reason for his irritation. You sighed, shifting your position to face him more directly. “Katsuki, it was just a little help. It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” he repeated, already irritated. “You were hurt. I should’ve been the one helping you, not him. You think I like seeing you all cozy with someone else?”

You blinked at his words, surprise flickering through you. There it was again that unspoken something beneath his anger. It was so typical of Bakugou to get all worked up instead of just saying what he really felt. He wasn’t mad that Todoroki helped you. He was upset that he hadn’t been the one by your side. Like he always had.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, your voice gentle. “But I didn’t want to trouble you. You always look out for me, and I just… I didn’t want to add more to your plate.”

Bakugou scoffed, his gaze finally locking onto yours. “Trouble me? Like I’d ever think you’re a burden. Dumbass.”

Warmth had spread throughout your body. Bakugou wasn’t great with comforting words, but when he did say something real, it always meant a lot more.

“Thank you- Katsuki.”

“Tch, don’t get all sappy on me now,” he muttered, but you could see the way his shoulders relaxed slightly,his irritation dulling. “Just next time, let me help you, okay? I don’t want to see you leaning on anyone else.”

You nodded, a soft chuckle escaping you. “Alright, alright. I promise.”

For a moment, silence settled between you, comfortable and familiar. You let your head rest against the back of the couch, feeling the tension from the day slowly fade away. Katsukis presence had always been a source of comfort, no matter how grumpy he appeared on the surface.

“You can be a real softy when you want to, You know Kats?”

“Shut up,” he retorted, but there was no real bite to his words. His eyes flickered to yours

But before you could think more on it, Bakugou shifted, reaching down beside the couch. He pulled out a blanket, his movements almost awkward as he draped it over your shoulders.

“Here,” he muttered, his cheeks tinged with the faintest hint of red. “Don’t want you catching a cold or some shit like that, our internships are getting closer.”

You blinked, touched by the gesture. “What about you?”

Bakugou huffed, scooting closer so that the blanket covered the both of you. “Happy now?” he grumbled, his voice low and rough.

A smile broke across your face, and you leaned back against him slightly, the warmth of his presence soothing your frayed nerves. “Yeah. This is nice.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he mumbled, but you caught the way his eyes softened as he glanced at you, the corners of his lips twitching upwards.

“You know this reminds me of how you, me and Izuku had sleepovers and you kept hogging the blanket”

“Hah? You two were just too slow to grab em ain't my fault”

Minutes had stretched into an hours, the two of you exchanging quiet words and comfortable silences. The pain in your stomach faded into the background, replaced by the steady rhythm of Bakugou’s breathing beside you. Your eyelids grew heavy, and you found yourself fighting back yawns.

Before you knew it, sleep began to pull you under, your head resting against Bakugou’s shoulder. He stiffened for a moment but didn’t push you away. Instead, he let out a soft sigh, his gaze lingering on your sleeping form.

“Dumbass” he murmured fondly, his voice barely a whisper. With gentle movements, he shifted slightly, allowing you to nestle closer. He adjusted the blanket, making sure it was snug around you before leaning his head back against the couch.

As sleep claimed him too, he let his arm drape protectively over your shoulder, the weight of nigh settling between you two.

The morning light crept into the common room, casting a gentle glow across the two of you. Voices stirred from the hallway, and you vaguely registered the sound of footsteps drawing nearer.

“You think we should wake them up?” Kirishima’s deep voice murmured, his tone a mix of amusement and uncertainty.

“I don’t know… they look pretty cozy,” Kaminari whispered back, his grin evident even in his hushed tone.

“Regardless, we should give them some privacy,” Momo’s soft, measured voice chimed in. “It’s not proper to stare.”

You froze, heat flooding your cheeks as you processed what they were saying. Slowly, cautiously, you lifted your head to look around and nearly jumped out of your skin when you saw your friends standing at the edge of the room.

Todoroki, Kirishima, Kaminari, Momo, and Tenya were all gathered there, a mix of expressions on their faces ranging from confusion to curiosity to barely concealed glee. Todoroki’s brows were furrowed slightly, Kirishima was grinning like an idiot, while Kaminari’s phone was suspiciously pointed in your direction probably already snapping photos.

Tenya, on the other hand, looked absolutely mortified.

“Uh, morning?” you greeted awkwardly, your voice still thick with sleep.

Tenya’s eyes widened, and he began frantically adjusting his glasses, his hands flying in his usual animated manner. “This—this is highly inappropriate! We shouldn’t be—”

“Oh, relax, Iida,” Kirishima interrupted, his grin widening. “It’s not like they did anything. They just fell asleep together.”

“Yeah, but when was the last time you saw Bakugou let anyone get that close to him?” Kaminari piped up, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “I think this is history, were witnessing,”

Bakugou shifted beside you, a low grumble escaping his lips as he slowly came to. He blinked once, then twice, his gaze sharpening as he took in the sight of your friends gathered around.

“What the hell are you extras doing here?” he growled, his voice gravelly with sleep. He pulled his arm back abruptly, as if suddenly realizing how close the two of you were. “Get lost before I blow you all to bits.”

“Easy there, Bakugou!” Kirishima laughed, raising his hands in surrender. “We were just surprised, y’know? It’s not every day we see you all… cuddly.”

You shot Kirishima a glare, though your cheeks were still burning from embarrassment. “We just fell asleep talking, that’s all.”

Todoroki’s gaze slid from you to Bakugou, then back to you again. He tilted his head slightly, his expression thoughtful. “You two seem… comfortable.”

Bakugou scoffed, pushing himself up from the couch, his movements stiff and jerky. “Like hell why do you care icyhot!” he yelled in Todorkis face, though he avoided looking at you directly. “Don’t you guys have better things to do?”

“I’m afraid not, Bakugou,” Momo responded with a light smile. “It’s Sunday, and most of us were planning on a late breakfast. But we heard voices coming from the common room and thought we’d check in.”

“Besides,” Kaminari chimed in, his grin wide and mischievous, “we didn’t want to miss the chance to see Bakugou looking so soft and cuddly.”

Bakugou’s eye twitched, and you could practically feel the heat of his simmering anger beside you. Deciding to step in before he exploded, you cleared your throat and offered a sheepish smile. “We were just talking because I couldn’t sleep. I had a hard time getting comfortable because of, well, you know…” You gestured vaguely to your stomach, which had been wrapped up securely with bandages.

“Yeah, I noticed you were still limping at the end of the day yesterday,” Todoroki said, his voice calm but tinged with concern. “Does it still hurt?”

Before you could answer, Bakugou cut in, his tone edged with irritation. “Shes fine. I would know.”

Todoroki raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment further, his gaze lingering on Bakugou’s tense form.

“Okay, okay, we get it, big guy,” Kirishima chuckled, stepping back. “No need to blow a fuse. We’ll leave you two alone.”

But just as the group started to turn away, Kaminari leaned forward, his grin turning wicked. “Just one more thing Bakugou, if you didn’t want Todoroki helping her out yesterday, why didn’t you say so?”

Bakugou’s scowl deepened, and he stepped forward, sparks crackling faintly from his palms. “You wanna lose your teeth, Dunce Face?”

“Alright, let’s go,” Momo intervened, gently ushering Kaminari and Kirishima out of the room. “We’ll leave you two to your… morning.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Kirishima agreed, shooting you a quick thumbs-up behind Bakugou’s back. “See you guys at breakfast!”

As the group finally dispersed, Bakugou let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his spiky bedhair, You glanced at him, the embarrassment of being caught slowly giving way to amusement.

“Thanks for not blowing up at them,” you murmured, nudging his shoulder gently.

“Tch. They’re lucky I didn’t,” he muttered, but there was no real heat in his voice. “Fuckin idiots.”

A small smile tugged at your lips, and you leaned back against the couch, still wrapped up in the blanket the two of you had shared. “So… do you wanna talk about what Kaminari said?” You said teasingly.

Bakugou shot you a sharp look, his eyes narrowing slightly. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Right, of course,” you said lightly, not pushing him further. Instead, you shifted closer, resting your head against his shoulder once more. “But… thank you. For staying with me last night.”

For a moment, Bakugou was silent, his gaze flickering to your head resting on his shoulder. Then, with a soft huff, he relaxed slightly, leaning back against the couch.

“Yeah, yeah. Just don’t make it a habit, dumbass,” he grumbled, his voice gruff but lacking its usual bite.

But you knew him well enough to understand what he really meant: I’ll always be here. 

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

[evergone]

Hey!! Idk know if you are taking requests right now but can you write a Theo x Hufflepuff reader imagine where the reader is always telling him to make friends from other houses. He finally does make friends but with a beautiful Ravenclaw and starts spending more time with her. The reader starts feeling insecure and ignores Theo. He soon realises that she is ignoring him and talks to her.

Btw I love your writing and can you please tag me if you do write it?

Too Friendly

Theodore Nott x reader

Warnings: Swearing, allusions to sex but no sex.

Description: The reader wants Theo to make more friends but when he does, she becomes insecure about their bond.

Sorry this took so long to get out, I'm in the middle of my final exams of high school so I don't have much time. I enjoyed writing this one. Thanks for the request @orphicmortala

“It’s sad, Theo, you’ve got, like, no friends!” You said as you tried your best to remember how to tie your yellow tie.

“What do you call Malfoy, then?” Theo asked from the bed.

“An accomplice,” you replied with that unique snark that Theo loved about you, “You need friends from other houses— Friends that aren’t just me.” You added those final words hastily before he could open his mouth in protest.

Theo rolled his eyes and beckoned you over. His hands glided over the folds of your tie with expertise, undoing the mess of a knot you’d created in order to do it up properly and perfectly. When he was done, he looked up at you with his gorgeous, oceanic eyes and the corners of his mouth where both his beautiful lips connected turned upwards. You uttered your thanks quietly as you resisted the primal urge to just not go to class at all and instead spend the whole day with him. Your mind wandered off to imagine being stuck between Theo’s checkered emerald sheets, but you brought it back to reality.

Fending off your lustful desires as well as a nun would, you bid adieu to Theo and hurried out of his room and the Slytherin common room. On your way out, you dodged the teasingly crude jokes and names that Theo’s friends tossed towards you and told Pansy that she was no better than yourself (you’d seen the way she snuck out of that empty classroom after Draco a couple days earlier, her hair and clothes all dishevelled and her thighs rubbing together uncomfortably).

The whole day, Theo dwelled on your words. While you weren’t exactly dating or in a relationship, he always found himself bound to your every word and every whim. You seemed to dictate his life in a way that you certainly shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help but listen to you. So, in Arithmancy, he didn’t sit next to Blaise as he usually did, instead electing to sit with Lisa Turpin, a Ravenclaw girl he’d seen you talk to a few times.

She looked at him in confusion, “Did you need something?”

He withheld the instinct to say some snide remark and instead replied, “I thought I’d make a new friend today.”

“On some random Tuesday… in our Sixth year?” Her face contorted to expose her obvious disgust.

“Merlin’s cock and balls, I’m trying to be nice, Turpin!” Theo frowned and picked up his bag to go sit elsewhere.

Turpin grabbed his wrist as he stood up and her lips made a thin line as she pulled him back down to the seat. Her brows knitted together like a homemade sweater and she breathed out a sigh of defeat.

“No, it’s okay, sorry,” she said, “Sit here if you’d like.”

Over the next week, Theo made some serious efforts to get to know Turpin despite his friends’ obvious, loud verbal opposition. After that first Arithmancy class, Blaise had practically torn him to shreds with his massive speech on house loyalty and the horrible impact that you were clearly having on him. Daphne had recited the same speech her mother had given to her on her first day of her first year at school about how interrelations with students from the lesser houses was a gateway drug to blood sympathy (she’d given him the same speech when he started his little thing with you). And Pansy, Merlin’s beard, Pansy was furious.

Pansy had constructed this whole idea in her mind that you hated that Theo was talking to Turpin. She called it “cheating” which Theo had adamantly disagreed with. He wasn’t having sex with Turpin, in fact, he had absolutely zero romantic interest in her. He barely even liked her. The only thing the two had in common was Arithmancy and every time they hung out they talked about it until there was no more Arithmancy to talk about. It was, quite frankly, boring. Turpin was boring.

“It’s emotional cheating,” said Pansy in a huff as she and the others started towards the Great Hall for Monday breakfast.

“Emotional cheating?” Theo asked skeptically.

“Yes, Nott, emotional cheating,” she nodded, “And it’s hurting Y/n’s feelings. That’s why she hasn’t spoken to you all week.”

His gaze snapped to focus on Pansy whose black eyes were ablaze with the feminine rage of a girl’s best friend, “How do you know she hasn’t spoken to me all week?”

Pansy smirked, her honey red lipstick bright against her pale skin, and shrugged. She knew you hadn’t spoken to him all week because you wouldn’t shut up about it. In Divination on Wednesday afternoon, you’d all but assaulted Pansy with questions about Theo’s newfound interest in Turpin. All of which Pansy had no helpful responses to.

“Is he flirting with her?” You asked.

“Maybe, I don’t know, it’s not like they sit with us,” said Pansy, struggling to focus on the crystal ball with all your chatter.

“Why not? Why don’t they sit with you? Are they trying to be private?” You pushed almost frantically.

“Uh, possibly? Honestly, I just think he knows we don’t like her,” she explained.

“Why don’t you like her? Is she a bitch?” You frowned and then quickly added in a judgmental tone, “Or are you just being blood supremacists?”

“Is she a mudblood?” Pansy stopped working to stare at you.

You smacked her hand and she hissed, “I don’t know her that well. Don’t say that.”

When Theo and his friends finally arrived at the Great Hall, he searched the tables for your face. While most people usually stuck to their house’s table, you were a social butterfly and loved to flutter from table-to-table to talk to all of your many friends. Sometimes he wondered how you weren’t a prefect despite your popularity and the respect the younger years gave you. His eyes found Turpin first and she beamed and waved him over, but he blatantly ignored her. Pansy and Daphne watched on with delight as the girl cringed with embarrassment and turned back to her meal with bright red ears.

A spot of h/c hair floated above a robe lined with yellow and he abandoned his friends to go to you. You were standing at the end of the Hufflepuff table (not an unusual place to find you, but your favourite table was always the Slytherin one), and you were utterly consumed by a tale you were sewing for your housemates Hannah Abbott and Justin Finch-Fletchley.

“Y/n,” Theo spoke and his deep, smokey voice tore you straight out of your conversation, “Can we talk?”

Your eyebrows quivered and your blinking sped up as you took his appearance in for the first time all week. You hadn’t gone so long without speaking to him in at least three years (you got into an argument in your third year about the petrifications) and hearing his voice and seeing him so close was like throwing a former alcoholic into a sea of wine. There was nothing you wanted more than to indulge in him. But Hannah and Justin were glaring at him like hawks, or guard dogs, whichever was more intimidating.

“Um,” you glanced back at your friends and Hannah shook her head slightly, she’d never much liked Theo, “Sure.”

Hannah rolled her eyes and whispered something barely audible to Justin. Something about a “love-fucked pushover.” You ignored her. Theo took you to a pair of seats far from any prying ears and held your hands in his.

“You know I don’t like Turpin, right?” He said quietly.

You scoffed, “Yeah, right. And that’s why you spent all week with her.”

“I spent all week with her because you told me to!” He laughed with salt that spread itself over your wounded heart.

“Did I just? Because I really don’t remember saying ‘Hey, Theo, you know how I like you so much? I actually want you to go talk to another girl,’” you said sarcastically.

He held back a grin as best he could but the amusement glistened in his eyes and on his rosy, mole-spotted cheeks. His hand came up to your brow and massaged the frown out from between your eyebrows as you fluttered your eyelashes at him in the way you knew made him melt inside.

“I wanted to make friends for you,” he told you with that soft, romantic tone he used in bed.

“Don’t,” you ordered, “You’re Theodore Nott, you aren’t supposed to be friendly.”

For the first time in a week, he got a good look at you. He hadn’t realised how much he missed the sight of your h/l h/c hair and the way it framed your stunning face so perfectly that you appeared to have stepped right out of a portrait. He hadn’t realised how much he missed how your eyes, an elegant e/c and perpetually glossy as if always on the verge of tears, examined every centimetre of his face. He hadn’t realised how much he missed doing your tie up for you until he saw it tied like a bow around your neck.

“I’m friendly to you,” he said as his hands pulled at the end of the tie and it fell apart over your chest.

“And that’s all you need, I think,” you whispered pleasantly and pressed a loving kiss to his lips as he looped the tie around itself twice and pushed the end through the gap, tying it perfectly.

[starzblvd]

Is she all that you want? Is she all that you need?

marriagecouncler!reader x married!ellie, cheating, mid/late twenties, fluff + suggestive, smoking an; i thought of this during one of my classes and i can’t tell if this idea is stupid or not but still came out longer than i thought bye, obvi i don’t actually condone cheating

marriagecouncler!reader that choose this job for being an absolute natural in the matchmaking field. You’ve paired countless couples, take your very first perfect pairing Tommy and Maria, constant on and offs with absolute no pay off, after secret private meetings with both of them since you really had no qualifications yet, you not only rekindled their relationship to on again but now they stuck onto each other like superglue, so marriage counseling should be a piece of cake! The beginning of your career was easy cruising, teaching communication skills for poor strained and confused couples in need. Work was a whole lot easier when you weren’t attracted to your client though.

marriagecouncler!reader who’s leaned over her desk to reach across with an outstretched manicured hand to her newest clients, Ellie Williams and Cat somethinglastname. They went way back marrying young at twenty and had only started dating each other in senior year of highschool. Of course you weren’t there to judge, but both of them looked completely tired of each other. The way they looked at each other was as passionate as a stranger you would bump into. You sat back down into your leather chair assessing both of them and their story how getting married at 20 was probably the worst thing they ever choose to do with their free will, Ellie though was something you had to analyze for yourself. Short tussled auburn hair strayed into a bun, freckled cheeks kissed by the sun too hard burning them a bit pink, a lean and toned build you caught onto once seeing her forearms in her tattered brown flannel.

marriagecouncler!reader looking hopeless with a hand under the chin at the couple situated on complete opposite sides of the love seat, “No, no. I never said you couldn’t hang out with Dina i just said you really shouldn’t if you know what’s good for our marriage.”

“Hello are you hearing yourself? That’s the same thing! She’s been my friend since middle school and you want to ice me out because she asked me to be JJ’s godmother and you think she wants me to be her new mommy too?”

Cat had both her arms and legs crossed and looked like she was ready to chew out Ellie and whatever words she had left. She combed through her short bob, glancing back at you staring at you with a “see what I have to deal with?” stare. The session was coming to its end and most of it was spent spatting which they could’ve done at home like they usually do free of charge.

“Okay so we really have to instill some skill like tools-“

“Save it. We’re out, don’t want your overtime fee, see you.” Cat yanked her jacket from the middle of the cushions and saw herself out the door, she wasn’t going to cooperate that was for sure. Ellie sighed, sunken down into her own separate island feeling embarrassed over her grown wife’s tantrum, her eyes looked tired similar to an old weary dog.

“I’m sorry, i’m sure it wasn’t her intention to come off that rude.” She looked so defeated and so fine. It felt heated in your office or maybe it was just yourself, you looked back at her apologetically because it would be anything but unprofessional to gang up on the other partner.

“Do you still even want her?” It was like the words struck out of you, the thought that threatened to slip out from you the entire hour came out like a barrel from a sawed off shotgun.

marriagecouncler!reader who was being stared down at by Ellie with a look that crossed terrified and confusion together. As fast as you said that was as fast as the regret settled in, you sat up to scramble an apology before Ellie interrupted with her reply,

“At the time when we got together I must have, I mean I was happy enough to let her puncture her design into my skin,” she grinned coyly raising her tatted forearm from the armrest, she honestly looked so cute defeated you looked at her hopelessly again, but not out of pity, more so that you know this was going hard case for your personal sake.

marriagecouncler!reader that suggests separate, alone, one on one counseling sessions! You schedule Cat at an earlier time save Ellie for your last session so the thought of having to hurry along to get the next client in the chair wasn’t a problem. Instead of working on instilling those ’skillful tools’ like promised, you found that talking about your interests was so much more interesting. From those long running sessions you now know about her life long passion for the stars above and how convinced she use to be and probably still is that a constellation is in the scatter of her freckles, or how she’s equally talented in drawing and writing. Ellie would warm up hotter each session, from sitting 6 feet apart to scooting her seat right in front of your desk to elaborate further on whatever she talked about, eventually she asked if you would like to come over, sort of.

“All my guitars every single one of them, made by hand, by my dad,”

“You should let me hear you play sometime,”

“I mean if you came over..”

marriagecouncler!reader that found herself in Ellie’s shared estate with Cat, coincidentally while Cat was busy away at work. You knew Ellie’s wife and you were sure she wouldn’t mind! Now on their couch, you watched Ellie flustered while telling you even more of her life before marriage, how Joel was the person to get her to pick up a guitar in the first place after seeing how the move across the country at fourteen bummed her out. She took a guitar off the wall that was engraved with the same moth and fern on her made from mahogany wood and plated in silver frets,

“This one’s my favorite, she was a wedding gift and the one I mostly play on, here let me-“

The headstock of the guitar knocked over an altoids can off the short legged table, now opened you could see the pre-rolled joints stashed inside

“fuck.”

marriagecouncler!reader that has a smoke sesh on a married couples bed. Only after Ellie explained on a rant how she didn’t get high all the time and it was just that the stress was grinding her down to dust, being understanding you told her you couldn’t care less. So, maybe asking if you wanted to light one wasn't outside the realm of boundaries.

“My lighters in the room i’m not allowed to sleep in anymore, cmon follow me,”

She lit one up for you to share amongst yourselves right there without bothering to move back down, at first you just enjoyed each others face, looking, batting eyes and wasting time instead of acting out what both of you wanted to do, both of you still waiting on the other. Her dimmed eyes were like a lure steering you in, “i think we know what this.” it came out as a whisper from you, not needing to speak up since she was right in front of you.

Ellie was still a bit timid as the first time you met her, but now with more of air of confidence.

“I never denied you before,” you didn’t know if to thank the weed or her pure surge of impulse, but you were really fucking grateful she kissed you first when you leaned in impossibly close to her.

If Cat really was all Ellie needed she wouldn’t have her hands squeezing your hips and using the hold she had on you to push down onto her raised knee so you could get yourself off humping her and into her. She let you comb the layers in her hair with your fingers while kissing you as needy as she was for not being very active as of late.

marriagecouncler!reader that comes to the conclusion that divorce isn’t a shameful thing at all, but a new path for an opportunity of happiness in a new lasting love! Ellie nodded in complete compliance like the idea hadn’t struck her sooner or that you hadn’t both planned this in the back door of her kitchen while you were one step outside with your tousled hair and inside out crinkled top. The familiar sound of Cat’s car pulling up in the driveway dissolved the moment into a panic of Ellie jumping into her jeans while you picked up your tossed bra from the lamp shade. You rushed to the bottom floor on your tippy toes down the stairs, Ellie following suite whisper screaming “Kitchen! door outside in kitchen!” You wish you had the privilege of privacy, but you can’t really do that in someone else’s house and for the reason of hiding an affair. Turning the doorknob and throwing the door against the outside wall you bent over to slide into your kitten heels giggling a goodbye,

“Call me when you miss me yeah?”

“Too corny to ask to call you mine and call off this matrimony?” Ellie stood perched on the doorway with that forsaken grin she pulls out each time she gets flustered, she sounded like an absolute dork despite an absolute dick for being a cheater in her shared home.

Back in your office Cat cracked a smile for the first time ever, she took out a pen from her own purse and signed the documents you oh so suddenly conveniently had on hand.

marriagecouncler!reader that has to stay a secret for a few months so Ellie didn’t look like two faced whore. Driving to the next town over to have dinner in public in her new sports car because when’s a better time to treat yourself than setting yourself free from a draining relationship? As much as she had to keep things private from everyone else she always made sure to let you know how much she loved you even if it wasn’t in words all time, whether it be in the way she got intimate with you, holding you like an anchor to herself or how she helped you in practically whatever you asked. Around the 7 month mark you both did have to work out a new story as to to how you met for the sake of saving yourselves of having to serve the dirty details to everybody.

marriagecouncler!reader that has an awkward reencounter with Tommy and Maria in the backyard of Joel’s house during a family get together as Ellie’s new girlfriend.

[radlovesfics]

Tbh this is all over the place and took me so long to get out skjfksjfjdk sorry in advance

need poly couple Eve/Mark/Reader so fucking bad I feel like it has so much potential FUCK

So like, maybe you’re childhood best friends with either Mark or Eve going to the same school and everything but to make this more coherent we’ll go with Mark

Growing up as next door neighbors and developing a huge crush on this loser when you’re both in middle school. When you realize what’s happening, you do everything you can to stamp it down and act like nothing changed. Mark is so entirely oblivious it’s genuinely painful!!

this continues for years with no sign from Mark that he reciprocates so you just resign yourself to being the supportive girl best friend who’s there for him no matter what. cheering him on for amber and all!! then you meet Eve!!

You encounter her randomly in school and become fast friends and really close. You don’t know anything about her other identity or powers but it’s not like that gets in the way. You enjoy having a close female friend for once. She’s just so easy to talk to and so helpful and nice and so pretty to look at also she smells so good and you can’t stop staring at her- FUUUUCK. You catch these gay ass thoughts while probs staring at her in class looking stupid and smitten. Id also like to think you don’t talk about Mark with her unless you’re just ranting about him doing stupid shit. You don’t want to fester on Mark not liking you back and you want to force yourself to move on and have fun with your only girl friend. Eve has NO idea you’re in love with him. anyway !!

just like your feelings with Mark, you ignore these too! especially since you’re unaware if she’s even into girls :( you thankfully have a lot of experience in hiding your feelings so Eve is none the wiser. I feel like the only person to know you even have any crushes at all is William, but he’s a ride or die bro he’s got you he ain’t snitching but also he is going to die from how stupid the three of you are

anyway!! back to mark :)

You’re there for him throughout all the good and the bad that keeps happening to him, even when you start to see less and less of him with his newfound responsibilities. Eve is still around but still somewhat barely. That’s when you notice Eve and Mark start interacting in school!! mainly when you’re not around, only because Eve and him are talking about superhero stuff and she hasn’t revealed who she is to you yet. You’re a little put off and hurt by it bc the second you approach the two of them they start acting weird. You do your best to ignore it bc as far as you’re aware, Marks into Amber and it’s not illegal for your two friends to be friends haha this doesn’t bother you at all to be left out nope oh shit they broke up?? Uhhhhh

This doesn’t mean he forgets about you seeing as how you’re the first person he goes to once he starts dating Eve. This is also how you found out about her hero identity bc Mark’s so excited to talk about it. He ofc realizes after he gets done gushing to you about her and freaks out, but you’re just. Staring. Absolutely world rocked rn. Finding out two of your closest friends (that you have a MASSIVE thing for) are together, just about does you in. Mark’s found someone who you know is one of the most beautiful and wonderful women you have ever met. Eve is with the most perfect and sweet handsome guy who you’ve known your entire life and you know for a fact he’s amazing. They have so much in common you will never relate to and clearly understand each other on a level your normal civilian self cant. They’re perfect together, is what logic tells you so how could you NOT be happy for them? It kills you inside but maybe this is what was always meant to happen. You could never stand beside these two in a way that matters.

You start pulling back from interacting with the two of them, just heartbroken and miserable but feeling so selfish for these feelings. You feel like a horrible person and start kinda avoiding the two of them. Helps that they’re already SO busy they don’t notice. You don’t blame them, they’re literally superheroes. Ofc they’re gonna have more important things to deal with right?

Mark and Eve do actually start to notice !! There’s a very big you shaped hole missing and it doesn’t click for them until they see you again but not under the best circumstances.

Idk what exactly but there’s some kinda massive attack that happens and you’re caught in the crossfire. it’s BAD. I’m not sure if maybe they save you during this attack or if they find out what happened later and seeing you so hurt and vulnerable as they stand beside your hospital bed or as you’re being held in their arms after rescuing you, something shifts. They still don’t understand it exactly but they realize you’re their best friend and they haven’t been exactly the best friends back. So obvs they have to fix this

They start to see you more often after this incident and you’re stuck in the mindset that it’s a pity thing. To make sure you’re safe and don’t need saving. Mark and Eve just missed their bestie :( and now they’re being so clingy??? Your heart can’t take it.

I think maybe Eve realizes she feels differently about you first bc she’s more self aware and only brings it up after seeing Mark interact with you. She clearly sees him act the way he has towards her to YOU. Mark is in denial at first but once Eve points it out to him he can’t stop thinking about it. He’s so stupid!!! He’s super apologetic to Eve and like rambling until she shuts him up like “Mark, it’s fine. Honestly feelin’ the same. “ they both have a long and healthy conversation about it !! Final result is wanting to include you in the relationship but they don’t know if you feel the same or even want to be in a poly relationship. so obvs they gotta figure that out !!

Mark and Eve start flirting heavy!! Well. As well as Mark can bc we know that man is awkward asf but it’s so cute and endearing <333 They’re being hella clingy, always wanting to talk to you and hang out. In uniform and out tbh. More free with physical touch, practically hanging off of you at some points. They’re often bringing you little gifts from wherever they’ve just traveled to or taking you on little flights. Mindlessly compliment you, Mark fumbling with his words awkwardly and Eve just being suave as fuck. They are being so blatantly obvious and yet !! You have no idea !!!

You’re actually going insane. You don’t understand why they’re acting the way they are and think they’re either messing with you or just see nothing wrong with what they’re doing. Maybe they know you like them and are just teasing your poor self. It’s hurting you and confusing you bc you’re trying so hard to move on from them but they’re just everywhere all the time !!! You complain to William about it and he tries conveying this shit to Eve and Mark but they’re kinda dumb about you tbh.

One day, you’re hanging out with the two of them and idk the context but Eve hugs you with a kiss on the cheek and Mark swoops in for a group hug, talking about how much he loves “his girls”. They do this so naturally and without hesitation you finally snap and burst into tears, shoving them off of you. You yell at the both of them about how cruel they’re being and to just stop teasing you like this. You’re a mess, telling them off for obvs knowing how much you like them and they’re just making fun of you. You’re sobbing as you tell them it’s so painful to love the two of them when they don’t love you and their friendship with you is making it harder for you to stop. You’re just dumping years of pent up longing on them now. How you’ve felt, how it’s been to be their third wheel or on the sidelines for so long. I love you both so much but every time you touch me like this I die a little inside every time. I’m so happy for you two and your relationship but I can’t do this anymore. “

At the end of your confession, Mark and Eve are like. Bug eyed staring at you bc oh. William might have been right 😔 (never fuckin question William guys cmon)

Their silence and the looks on their faces make you realize what you just did and immediately you panic. You turn to run away bc oh god you fucked up now they know and they hate you and think you’re insane and a weirdo and you’ve ruined your friendship with both of them and-

Your erratic thoughts stop the second you feel a hand on your wrist and suddenly you’re being smothered into Mark’s embrace and Eve’s hand is on your shoulder, both of them staring at you with the most tender and loving expression.

You’re alarmed and want to push them away but Mark’s “Thank god” breathed into your hair as he hugs you close stops you. He ofc takes a step back to face you properly but doesn’t go too far nor does he stop touching you.

Eve is the one to explain how they both feel about you and what made them realize they had both felt this way for a long time, they were just too stupid to realize. They apologize to you, not knowing you had felt that way for so long and wishing they knew sooner. You start crying again as they explain and they think this is you rejecting them, thinking THEYRE the weird ones for both of them liking you and wanting to include you in the relationship.

These fears vanish the second you throw yourself into them, crying and so so happy. Telling them you love them and giggling as they sandwich you in a hug, pressing kisses all over your face and saying the same back.

Your insecurities ofc cause you to step back at times and ask them how could they love you when you’re just…. Regular ole you.

“We love you, because you’re you. “ You’re their best friend, their family, their lover. You’re there for them at the end of a hard grueling day. You’re there when they just want to be the ones taken care of, when they’re stressed or depressed and need something soft and sweet to remind them being a hero isn’t all their lives amount to. You’re their sense of normal and peace. With you, they’re just Mark and Eve and it’s perfect :)

[urmommysfavkisserrr]

Is This Our Final Goodbye?

°•☆•° - Paige Bueckers x Fem Reader

°•☆•° - hey so um I just wrote this in an hour while actually sobbing so hard I threw up so...enjoy! It’s more of a letter than a story? But I had an idea and ran with it so.

°•☆•° - 1063 words.

°•°•☆°•°•°•☆•°•°•°☆•°•°

It started slowly, subtly.

Your daily calls switching to every other day, then every two days, then once a week, up until they just stopped all together.

Then it spread to your texts.

They’d go unanswered for a day or two, then you’d get a big apology text back after it hit the 24-hour mark.

You knew college took most of her time, the blend of classes and practice, plus the games, home and away, that you were the least of her worries to think about, so at first, you didn’t question it. 

At first.

Then the unanswered texts stretched out to three days or even four, then after that, it had gone up to a week. Then it had jumped to three weeks at a time, sometimes four.

You’d send her texts every day. Little updates about things that had happened, or when you had seen something that reminded you of her. At times, you’d even send them once an hour, but they’d never get a response, never get read, acknowledged.

When you did get an answer, it was just some half-assed apology paragraph that had things repeated from the last time you had gotten one, along with the complaint of how much she had to get done. 

Sometimes you’d even get a story of something she had gone out and done with her friends over the weekend, or super late at night, things you knew she would have never done with you if you asked. 

Like the time her roommate had gotten so high and was craving four different fast food places, so she stopped what she was doing and went out to get it. If you had asked her to do that, she’d laugh and say something about how her parents didn’t want her taking the car out and wasting gas.

Or the time you had been trying to get a hold of her all day, because you just needed the support of your best fucking friend, and all you got was the notification that she had left her dorm from Life360, then a picture around midnight of her holding a bunch of books in a bookstore.

Things she had time to put her school work aside and go out to do, but not enough time to text you back, even though the drive would last over an hour. She admitted that one time in one of her rants.

Then she went radio silent. Completely no contact. No matter what you texted her.

°•°•☆°•°•°•☆•°•°•°☆•°•°

By the time it hit the two-month mark, you lost hope. Completely. 

Your best friend, whom you had known since fourth grade and spent so much time together that people thought you were related, was gone. Just…gone. And that was it.

You had made yourself sick spending every waking hour trying to figure out what you had done wrong. What you had said, did, seen, commented on, anything that would give you an answer.

You never got one.

Not after you found out things, like that her old babysitter died, from her little brother, while you both happened to be up late one night playing Roblox and joined the same game. 

Not after you met up with an old mutual friend from middle and high school, and found out she’s still talking to him every time he texts or calls her while she’s actively ignoring you. 

Not after you cried the entire way home from that hangout with him, then cried yourself to sleep. For the sixth time that week.

By now, you had resorted to blaming it all on yourself. 

Maybe you had blacked out and said something mean, and you don’t remember. 

Maybe you had been too greedy, too overbearing. 

Maybe she just finally got sick of you. 

Maybe you had just always been a god awful friend, and the second she got the chance to get away from you, she took it. 

Maybe she’s scared of how you’ll react. 

Maybe, maybe all the years of being attached at the hip, being so close with her family that you went to family events with them, even doctors' appointments, she was done with it.

Maybe, just fucking maybe, all those time’s she called you her sister, and her soulmate, were just lies to keep you around so she could suck every inch of your fucking soul dry, then just leave when you have nothing left to give.

You’d spend nights curled up on the floor in her hoodie and holding the ‘Best Friends’ stuffed wolf she had gotten you one year for Valentine's Day, just crying. Cursing out the wolf even though he had done nothing, because it was supposed to symbolize your friendship. To be the one to comfort and hold you when she couldn’t.

Sometimes you’d have music playing, sad and slow songs, songs you had dedicated to each other. Repeating the same words over and over, feeling the same twist in your gut every time the words matched up perfectly to something in your friendship.

Sometimes you’d scroll through old texts and messages, still trying to figure out what you had done wrong. Thinking about how maybe you shouldn’t have said anything at all. Or way’s you could have worded the text differently to sound nicer. Ways you could have been more supportive and just agreed with whatever shit she had said just to make her happy.

Other times, you’d just stare at the wall. Your tears blurring the lines between what was actually in front of you and what was swimming around in your head. The lies, the memories, the laughter, the heartbreak. The promises you had made that you always swore would last a lifetime, the plans you had made for your future, for your kids.

Then sometimes, just sometimes, you’d sit down in front of your laptop and type out the story. Type out the words and thoughts in your head, to take them from your brain and put them out on paper, because you can’t say them to her yourself.

Just like you are right now.