#bro is in his years. give him a break /lighthearted

[tyrianluda]

Titus Hardie would be fine with your gender identity but specifically in this way.

[1lovesickfangirl1]

I just finished playing Glass Heart: Retold and OMG IT IS SO GOOD. Was super interested in how a bunch of the love interests had connections. The music is beautiful. I looove the sprites. The game is fully voice acted and the love interests voice actors did an incredible job. Some parts are a bit cheesy but it's fun :) It's absolutely CRIMINAL that I haven't been able to find a fandom for this game. I've only found 8 fics on AO3 and ONE OF THEM IS IN FRENCH.

In Glass Heart you play as Meira, a 21 year old woman with a rare heart condition that has kept her in the hospital for most of her life. She got a heart donor right as her heart started failing. Her transplant surgery is a month away with a 20% chance of success. Meira wants to experience life outside the hospital before her high-stakes surgery, and each of the 6 love interests will help her do that.

Glass Heart: Retold is a remake. I haven't played the original, the main difference I know of are the 2 short stories after each route in the original. I was looking at the game files and found the CGs and sprites for those stories!! also saw a file with diary entries about each guy at different affection levels. maybe they'll be added in the future?

Under the cut I'll include content warnings for the game and my thoughts on each route in the order I played them. Spoilers ahead!!

Content Warning: Certain routes include gang violence, sexual assault, drugged MC, attempted suicide, and prostitution.

Tamaki

my assassin husband <3

somehow got the darkest route on the first playthrough

thought i was going to date sweet florist man who grew fond of Meira

ends up being in charge of an assassination guild

finds out a gang called the Zhulong Syndicate is after Meira's new heart, does his best to stop them

Charlotte is so pretty, wish she was a love interest

Lily is such a cute nickname

literally went feral when Tamaki called her a good girl

looove a man in a suit

unfortunately this is the route where Meira gets sexually assaulted

PAPI CAN GO FUCK HIMSELF

the way Tamaki reacted when Meira told him about the assault was 10/10 chef's kiss, the good stuff

he's such a sweet sweet man

the good ending is peak bc yes i would love to run a small flower shop with my lover!!

a very good starting point, one of my favorite routes!!

Will

needed something more lighthearted after Tamaki so I chose Will

going to college w/ childhood bff and his besties, very chill

friendzoning a girl you like and continuing to give her mixed signals after, not so chill

Nerd Squad is so goofy, I love them

Brayson was so flirty and silly like bro i can't get distracted ill do your route later

Krystol (her roommate) was a tad cringe but she's sweet

omg Tiffanie get out of here Will doesn't want you back

aaaand the Zhulong Syndicate is still after Meira's new heart GIVE MY GIRL A BREAK

at least we get to see Tamaki again WELCOME BACK HUSBAND

Meira got drugged at a party, TOLD HER FRIENDS NOT TO BRING HER TO THE HOSPITAL AND THEY LISTENED TO HER

YES IM STILL PISSED ABOUT THAT

HER HEART IS SUPER WEAK AND WE DON'T KNOW HOW THAT DRUG WILL INTERACT WITH HER OTHER MEDICATION

BAD FRIENDS

in the bad ending Will puts himself in front of Meira as a gang member tries to stab her in the hospital and he dies

kinda ironic since his older brother died doing the same thing for Will when he was a kid

and that unlocks Bray's route

Will's route is pretty short but it's a much needed route

Meira needed that slice of life moment and this route delivered!

Brayson

my hacker boyfriend <3

WHY DOES WILL HAVE TO DIE FOR BRAY'S ROUTE

okay diva diving into the dark web to find out more about who killed Will without any way to protect your data

THEY BOTH MISS WILL SO MUCH THEY'RE THE ONLY ONES WHO UNDERSTAND EACH OTHERS PAIN

Bray i love you but chibi is probably the worst nickname you could've given her

good on you Bray for trying to not get Meira involved

in order to infiltrate the gang and get more info Meira needs to pretend to be a prostitute 💀

oh yeah that plan definitely goes well and the bad guys never see it coming (sarcasm)

Bray looked pretty cute in his suit

these guys move quiiick in the good ending, right after graduation they're engaged, bought a house, AND Meira is pregnant

the bad end takes place 10 YEARS LATER

MEIRA HAS BEEN IN A COMA FOR 10 YEARS AND BRAY VISITS HER EVERYDAY

Nathan

NO GANG STUFF THIS TIME

heck yeah queen get on that adult Make A Wish program and go to Hawaii with a rich man

love using a rich man’s money

this route has a pretty basic dating rich man plot line

Nathan falls in love w Meira as the trip goes, breaks off his arranged engagement, pursues photography instead on inheriting his father’s business, and lives his life with Meira

Also Meira’s doctor travels with them to look after her heart

And he loves her and is pretty jealous of Nathan

Philip is a character that exists

Nathan's friend, super flamboyant cosmetologist, usually comes around when Meira needs to dress up and love advice

when I first saw Nathan’s fiancée I convinced myself it his sister for a second?

They just look very similar

the bad ending was Meira's funeral

TAMAKI BROUGHT HER A BOUQUET OF LILIES

Eli

fun fact: we have the same birthday! (November 2)

we love a tsundere whose idol persona is a detective and recently got diagnosed with cancer

also hell yeah dude call out Will's mixed signals

THE SINGING WAS SO GOOD

Meira was giving MAIN CHARACTER ENERGY in this route

helps idol she doesn't know write a new love song with her dad's melody

idol falls in love w her

idol begs her to be part of the song

invites her to the studio

only Eli's manager knows he has cancer so his other colleagues are expecting him to work at full capacity while he has stage 3 stomach cancer💀

producer receives the demo and is like WE NEED HER TO PERFORM YOUR NEW SONG ON TOUR

Meira can't be on stage, too much stress on her body

but Eli is like hey lets make her into a hologram so all she needs to do is sing during concerts

SO THEY PLAN TO MAKE HER LIKE MIKU IN A VOCALOID CONCERT

they sing the final recording and a music video for the song

SHE GOES INTO A COMA AND WAKES UP A DAY BEFORE THE CONCERT

after performance she goes right into heart surgery and goes into another coma

(can't believe all of this happened in a month, she really is the main character)

In good ending she lives and they become idols together <3

In bad ending Meira dies before the concert and Eli dies after the concert

Jay

it's the doctor/patient dynamic

tbh was a tiny bit concerned when Jay said his little sister died from a heart condition and Meira would've been the same age as her if she was still alive

i was like does he see Meira as a sister 'cause that kinda weiiiird

he doesn't see her as a sister and the age gap isn't awful (21 and 27)

but still why would you date someone with that many similarities w your sister??

im gonna let myself live in peace and not think about it

we spend most of his route in his house and we don't see him in comfy clothes??

absolute criminal behavior devs i'll see you in court

The Zhulong clan is back to steal Meira's heart!

we get to more of Moran (another doctor) and i love that for us

AND MORE YOLO LOVE HER

ALSO THIS ROUTE FINALLY BRINGS UP SOMETHING IVE THOUGHT ABOUT THROUGHOUT THE WHOLE GAME

Jay probably shouldn't be the one doing Meira’s surgery since he's so attached to her

He's the most skilled surgeon in the hospital, but he might not be able to keep his composure if something goes wrong in surgery

Meira i know you're trying to spare your potential partner by guarding your heart BUT GET UP GIRL! THAT MAN IS CLEARLY IN LOVE WITH YOU!!

THE GOOD ENDING IS SO SWEET

I WAS SO SCARED TO SEE THE BAD ENDING

and i was right to be scared BECAUSE JAY'S VA PERFORMED LIKE THE RENT WAS DUE YESTERDAY

HE WENT SO HARD AND IT HURT MY HEART SO BAAAAD

[shitishouldnotbepostingonline]

Unromantic

Bro really thought he could just ask.

One of my more lighthearted "men are pigs" stories. For a little background, I went to a small school and grew up in a small town my entire life. Everyone knows everyone. My school was an elementary k-6 and high school 7-12. Yes 17 year olds dated 12 year olds. Yes it was creepy. No that is not this story. My class was only about 35 people and the classes above us were around the same.

Small schools have a lot of dances and usually would raise a good bit of money for whatever club needed money. We had a Hawkins dance, Halloween, homecoming, Christmas, valentines, spring and prom. I know I'm missing one but every other month there was a dance. When I was in middle school, it was a big deal. Who you going with, should we sleepover after, should we get pizza before, can you wait for me by the door so I don't have to go in alone because I'm having a panic attack that I over dressed because what the fuck do you wear to a casual dance at 13 and my dad is dropping me off early so he can have a break, can your mom do my hair. Fun fun fun times. Most importantly, drama. A huge night for drama. Miss one dance, miss all the gossip. Miss one dance, your crush might have started dating someone else. Miss one dance, your an outcast for at least the next week of school. I never missed a dance. Commonly you would find me A. dancing B. consoling in the bathroom or C. gossiping. I'll admit I'm toxic, I know and especially in middle school I was horrible. I was a horrible person who was going through horrible things blah blah blah. Every teen sab story. We all did it. I wasn't the worst but wasn't the best either. Life was about being popular, having friends and especially a boyfriend.

So, one of these dances is coming up. It's the homecoming. One that you are definitely supposed to have a date to. I'm single, actually thinking about it, I think this time period was the longest I've been single ever. I'm single and chat up this guy a grade above me. Let's call him Mark. We share a study hall together and Mark's definitely not popular but he is older then me which will give me points on the invisible popularity scale. My first impression was he's kind, funny and dorky so we spark a friendship. We start talking on kik (rip) and everything is normal to a 14 and 15/16 year old texting in the early 2010's. He's a bit odd and talks to me a little weird. I would later on recognize this as misogynistic but I was 14 and it was a different time. Fast forward to the week leading up to the dance and I'm dropping mad hints that I want him to ask me. I was freaking out that I had no one to go with. I was in between friend groups and was kind of at my first "big depression" period. He finally agrees to go with me (I don't think he ever actually asked). I definitely wore him down with constant texting and always saying hi when we passed in the hall. I think the worst part is I didn't like him. I just felt like I need a boyfriend for the attention everyone gives you once you start dating.

We decided (I decided) to go to the dance together. We make a plan and Mark changes it last minute saying he's not going unless I meet him at his house so we could walk together. Mark also made it a point to mention he was home alone. Cool fine no red flag there. At least not to my 14 year old dumb fuck self. The problem being my dad is bring me. Dad doesn't know I have a date. Dad doesn't know this kid and is not going to like that Mark wants me to go over to his empty house. So what do I do? I just didn't fucking tell my father. Waited for dad to leave. Then walked on over to Mark's place. Dumb yes, but if you want to understand how I was raise by people who are hands off or overly trusting/don't care that would take 37 page thesis paper.

I find Mark's house and at this point the dance has started. Did I mention he had the tickets so even if I refused to go over I would not be able to get into the dance. It's cold, I'm in a dress, heels, and I come from a place where it fall is 40° at night. Anyways I knock on the door and he yells for me to come in. When I say that womanly instinct sent red flags off throughout my whole body, I'm not kidding. Rightfully so. I was lying about where I was, who I was with and what I was doing. To say I was nervous was an understatement. I was terrified. I go in the house and shut the door behind me. We just kind of stare at each other until I break the overwhelming silence with a

"are you ready to go"

In which he responds

"a yeah but do you want to chill here for a bit"

Me, confused because I just spend hours getting ready and had a plan of action laid out in my head says

"I mean the dance already started"

This kid, props to how much guts it probably took, asks me

"well I was hoping you would let me eat you out first, then we'll head over".

The only thing I picture now is him hyping himself up all day to ask me that but at the time it was a different feeling. I can not describe in words what the hell was going through my mind. Like what? You can just ask that? Did he just ask that? Like he wants me to just what lay on his bed as he eats me out???? We haven't even kissed, held hands, nothing was leading me to believe that we had reach that level of intimacy. We are not even dating. I do what most women would do in that situation and play it off as he's just joking. I laugh and say let's go in a lighthearted voice. But no he doubles down. I remember think Jesus Christ please stop you are ruining any chance of anything happening.

"So is that a no"

How do I respond with out sound like a dick but also not agreeing because this kids is persistent. So I say as simply and as nicely trying not to embarrassing him

"Oh um I'm not really into that. I was hoping we could just go to the dance"

Then the most awkward walk of my young adult life happened. We did like 2 or 3 slow dances together but I spend most of my time consoling a friend in the bathroom. He tried to kiss me before I left but I think I dodged it with a hug.

So what do you think happened next? I have to see him everyday and we texted like constantly. He may of even apologized for being weird. Friend zone? Ghosted to the best of my ability? Told everyone what the fuck that kid asked me? No no and surprisingly no. I kept it to myself for quite a bit. It felt like to much for me to process at that time to tell anyone. We ended up dating for 2 weeks. Worst 2 weeks of my life. I underestimated just how much people disliked him and was starting to get laughed at for being with him. Which I would take if I actually liked him at all. As soon as we started dating the only thing he talked to me about in study hall was his dick. I mean like hyping it up for me. Acting like I was going to drop my yoga pant right there and just jump on him. I made it 2 weeks and the second week was just because I didn't know how to break up with him. Which I did in person. First time I've ever broken up with someone in person. It was mean yes but all this kid did was talk about his dick for 40 minutes a day. I bluntly said

"I'm not going to do this anymore. You just keep talking about your dick and it weirds me out. So I'm breaking up with you"

That was that. Didn't ever really talk to him again. We weren't on like bad terms but not good ones either. He did date a girl younger then me for a hot minute but other then that I do not think he dated anyone else while we were in school. My mom said she saw Mark an said hi but that was years ago. I still have him on socials and he's been popping up recently which is what inspired me to share this tidbit. I hope he is a bit more romantic in the bed room for who ever he ends up with.

I know I am to blame and I was cruel for potentially leading him on. I take responsibility for my part of being a fucking asshole when it came to petty shit like being popular or seen so by your peers. Funny thing was about this time I start having a new group of friends who were the more "outcast" type. Eventually they would be my friends for the rest of high school. I would blow up every single one of those friendships slowly until graduation. Probably doing permanent damage to all of our mental health along the way. I am not the good guy. In most my stories I have, especially from high school, I am just as much the villain as victim. I know that. If I could go back in time and have a chat with myself, I would. Live an learn.

[millenialfanfictionaddiction]

🚫The Boys Catch

Someone Violating

Their Female SO🚫

Kenma Kuzome x Female reader; Kuroo Tetsuro x Female reader; Ushijima Wakatoshi x Femake Reader; Tendo Satori x Female Reader

Warnings: This could potentially be a very triggering topic so please read the warnings. Unwanted touching, unwanted photography taken, sexual harassment, bullying.

A/N: This is an request from @demonbitterbite last year. I'm usually pretty lighthearted when just write these headcannons but I just want everyone to know that it's NEVER EVER ok for anyone to touch you without your permission! Remember, asking permission/ getting consent is the only way to go 👏🏻 👏🏻 👏🏻

Kenma Kozume

Kenma isn't the most "alpha" of the bunch

But that doesn't mean he's not protective

Not only is he protective but man's is observant

Let's say you are taking the train home with Kenma after practice

It's standing room only so you both hold on

You talk and Kenma listens

He's probably on his phone too

But this is your routine

And kenma is a pro at multitasking

However he's also a pro at observation

So when he sees a guy scooting close to you and putting his phone under your skirt

All bets are off

He's going to grab you and pull you behind him

Then he will stop the train and call the police

He's also probably snapped a picture of the man ir better yet his ID

Kenma doesn't play around with crap like that

Plus he has a wicked glare

He will tend to you while seeing that the police handle the creep

He will ask how you are and what he can do to help you

Kenma may seem aloof but he's the most rational of the bunch

Kuroo Tetsuro

Kuroo is the most irrational of the group

He is SO protective of his partner

Like he knows you can handle yourself but when you are with him

No way is he going to let anyone mess with you

So when you stop by the gym after your club meeting to walk him with him, he will happily oblige

You are waiting for him to get changed in the club room

Minding your own business, checking your socials

Suddenly a group a nasty boys comes up behind you and you hear a picture snap

You turn around only to see one of the boys pull his phone from below your skirt

Seriously how Violating!

You start to cry because that's so messed up

The boys laugh when Kuroo comes out to see what happened

You lean into him and sob

He asks you what's wrong and the boys just laugh

Then one really stupid one says "nothing dude just getting a glimpse up your girls skirt"

Bad idea bro

Kuroo will absolutely lose it

I headcannon kuroo can fight

Like broken noses, brushed ribs the whole shebang

He will totally beat the absolute crap out of anyone who hurts you

Meanwhile, Kenma and Kai have probably come to console you

Yaku is totally helping Kuroo

Kuroo will break the guys phone and tell them to never fuck with any girl ever again

That's all they need

They run off crying

Honestly they deserve it

Kuroo totally grabs you and holds you close

Mans will buy you whatever or do whatever he can to make you feel better

You don't want ro mess with Kuroo's girl

Ushiwaka Wakatoshi

Ushi wins the award for most intimidating

Seriously the man is like 6'3" and scary as hell

Have you seen his hands wrapped around a volleyball?

He could crush someone's throat

But Ushi also isn't the violent type

Unless it comes to his SO

You somehow managed to wiggle your way into the heart of Ushijima Wakatoshi

Seriously a feat in itself yn

He trusts you and you trust him

You often go to tournaments and cheer him on

Ushi secretly loves it trust me

So you are up cheering the boys on with the other partners of Shiratorizawa when there is a creep lurking behind you

You don't pay much attention to them because like some people just give off weird vibes

It isn't until your friend alerts you that the person is taking pictures up your skirt that you lose it

You whip around, slapping the person in the face

The slap heard round the world

Seriously tho, the game just ended and the boys are packing up

You scream and yell at the person

Ushi takes off towards you

Mans is running people over!

You and your friends managed to corner the creep who is denying the accusations

I mean they were caught read handed but ok go off

You tell Wakatoshi what happened

His gaze snaps to the person and his eyes blaze fire

You actually get nervous

I mean he's even more on his game than he was when they played Karasuno

"Delete that photo now or pay" he says

The person instantly complies

Like zero hesitation

"Don't you ever do anything like that ever again"

Ushi just solved the world's creep problems with his stare

Afterwards he will consol you and ask if you are ok

You totally are

Ushiwaka is so proud of you

Tendo Satori

Tendo is absolutely feral

Like mans is a golden retriever boyfriend

Sweetest most caring man

But he's alot like Kuroo

He can be fun but do not get him angry

I think Tendo is one of those guys that takes alot to get angry

But when he is, oof

You and Tendo are on a date

You stop to look over a bridge because it's a nice day

You are wearing the cutest summer dress and sandals

Tendo has his arm around you

It's so cute

Until some jerk ruins it

They just walk by, flip your dress up and snap a picture

Honestly it happened so fast it felt like it didn't happen

But you know it did and so did Tendo

You are so embarrassed and rightfully so

Tendo is enraged

Like he's going to LOSE IT

Without hesitation he will kick the person to the ground and start beating on them

You have to drag him off YN

But like should you?

I'll leave that up to you

The person is totally crying and saying they were "just joking"

Sexual harassment isn't a joke dude

Tendo will whale on the person until they finally apologize and delete the photo

Then he will simply get up, grab you, hug and kiss you and walk off

Like nothing happened

Just another day in paradise for Tendo

[dark-twist-fairytales]

A random ask at work, a rested night of sleep, and over 1k words later, I give you:

Quality time with Ezhno and Violin crying, and Violin and Accordion fluff that nearly made me cry writing because it was that adorable to write. The most domestic shit between two husband's.

Violin and Accordion belong to @bluetorchsky

I'm gonna go sob- Enjoy!

~~~

A nightmare at night, stressful day right after, and the repeated clicking of his own prosthetic was getting on his nerves. All of it was getting too much, he just wanted a moment to relax, just take a moment to himself.

Fortionately, he was able to catch a small break, and he took this chance to travel towards a lounge area, knowing it was a common place for Violin and Accordion. What also gave it away? The piano music filling the halls, slow and gentle. Walking towards the room, and practically falling into the said room, he closed door behind him and walked towards an empty chair that lingered beside the piano. He sat down, trying to stay quiet, no matter how fuzzy and anxious he felt, as to not disturb the two love birds sitting at the piano.

Well, it halfway worked. "Hello, Ezhno." Violin hummed, glancing over towards the smaller male, just taking a moment to smille and get himself comfortable. The music stalled just slightly, Accordion cracking his good eye to spot Ezhno and giving a slight chuckle at the slouched and bored look of Ezhno.

With a lazy reply of 'hey..' from Ezhno, along with him trying to get comfortable in an uncomfortaabke chair, he gave a slight huff. All of this caught Violin's attention, frowning just a bit at the stressed look in Ezhno's eyes. "What's going on, dear?" Violin asked, the faint piano completely stopping as Violin glanced around one good time. "It's just as three in here."

With that, Ezhno reaached up his sleeve just enough to take off his prosthetic, before setting it down on top of the piano and leaning back, a heavy sigh leaving him. "I just- I don't understand what runs through people's minds, when a lot of demands need to be met, that they think running off with their tails between their damn legs will taake the responsability off of them." The amused chuckle that left Accordion did cause Ezhno to roll his eyes, but in a lighthearted and not serious fashion. "I mean- Dad, when you were with your other group, you didn't ever-"

The room fell silent, with Ezhno registering whaat he had just said. Violin could only stare for a moment, Accordion being the only one remotely confused. If Accordion was 'big bro' to Ezhno, wouldn't that mean..?

"I.. I am so sorry, Violin, I didn't mean.. It just.." Ezhno couldn't comprehend what to say, tears welling up inn his eyes as he frantically tried to think through his already fried mind of something to say, or a mental explination as to why he called Violin 'dad', but the only thing the came through was panic.

So consumed with his thoughts, he didn't hear or see Violin get closer to him, but his attention was soon grabbed with Violin's hand being placed on his shoulder. Glancing up, Ezhno let the tears fall, sniffling and leaning into Violin's chest. The stress that had been mounting on him for days, due to a big heist planning at Reginald's call and the pretty consistant nightmares that had been happening damn near nightly for the past two weeks, it was getting too much.

Ezhno could only give a weak apology to Violin, but upon getting gently shushed by the other and pulled into a tighter hug, he leaned further to Violin's hold and simply let tears fall, taking in the comfort he gained from Violin. The warmth, the gentle hums, the light rubbing on his shoulder from the larger male's hands.. Ezhno felt at home, more than he had in years.

Ezhno gave a sigh after about five minutes of just sitting there, before hugging Violin with his human arm and resting on his shoulder for another moment. "Thank you.. I.. I really needed that more than I thought.. It's been crazy these past few weeks.. I thought I had gotten over his death, it's been over.. Over 21 years now..?"

"Don't apologize for it.. From what I've heard you talk about, you two were very close to each other.." Violin spoke, finally letting go of Ezhno and allowing the other to pull away as well. He simply gave a smile to the smaller, before moving his hand to Ezhno's cheek, smiling at the fact of Ezhno melting at the touch. A heavy sigh left Ezhno.

"We were.. I.. Miss him a lot, but there isn't really much I can do now.." Ezhno said, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath in and out again. The couldn't stay too long, an alarm on his phone started beeping. He moved to cut it off, before standing up and putting his arm back off. "Thank you, again.. It's been hard this past month or so.."

"No problem, Ezhno. If you ever need anything, come find me, alright?" With Ezhno giving a nod at Violin's words, he gave a quick 'goodbye' and left out.

Now sitting in silence, Accordion could only stare at the door in confusion of the whole interaction. His attention quickly changed when he heard sniffling coming from his husband beside him, turning to face him and growing confused. "Trent, lovely..?" He spoke, shifting over to Violin and wrapping his arm around the other, being a bit startled by how fast he turned to his chest, crying.. He wasn't upset, this was.. Happy.

"Trent.." Accordion spoke, moving to hug Violin closer to him, moving his hand up and down his back to assure the other. "Tre-Tre.." He once again said, hearing the small chuckles escape Violin, and the small smirk of achievement on Accordion's face only meant he was going to continue. "My symphony..~" Accordion purred out, finally getting giggling from Violin.

"I'm okay, I promise.." Violin said, giving a squeak when he felt Accordion start kissing at his cheeks, giving a light shove to the other's affection. "Ollie.." He whined through giggles, but with the knowledge between the two knowing Violin wasn't actually annoyed with it only made Accordion giving one last kiss to the bridge of his nose, smiling softly. Giving a content sigh, Violin leaned against Accordion's shoulder, using his sleeve to wipe the last tears away from his cheeks and eyes.

"If it isn't too much to ask.." Accordion lead on, with Violin giving a hum and shaking his head. "It's.. More personal to Ezhno, so not full details.. But, we were talking about his father.." A small 'oh' left Accordion, one more of acknowledgement and realization. "I'm guessing there's some similarities between you two?"

"Yeah, I assume so.. But, I think that's a good thing.." The curious hum that left Accordion allowed Violin to continue his thoughts ran out loud. "I mean.. If I'm similar to Ezhno's father, and he sees you like a brother, then I think we're already doing something right.." Content hums began to leave Violin, as Accordion basked in the thought for a moment. A smile soon came over his features, moving to look at Violin, in which his gaze was met.

Dipping down just enough to meet Violin in a tender kiss, Accordion pulled away just enough to still be near Violin, to hear the humming and light breathing with his eyes closed, to feel the warmth of his husband. He let out a small sigh through his nose. "I think we are doing something right.."

[ptergwen]

only you and me

w/c: 6.7k

warnings: angst, mentions of weed, and some swearing

summary: whenever peter tries to tell you how he feels, harry gets in the way

a/n: ahhhh hi my loves! my mini writing break is over :,) life has been just a mess for me and i’ve been way more critical than usual about my work but i’m doing a little better and ready to get back into everything! this helped me a lot so i’m excited to share it with y’all <3 it’s also my first time writing harry osborn so lmk how i did lmaooofwfjj but yeah pls enjoy

-

“dude, she’s right there! just tell her!” ned whisper yells to peter, elbowing him for emphasis. they’re hidden behind a wall to watch you at your locker. you’re grabbing books while betty rants to you and mj rolls her eyes. “not now. she looks... busy,” peter gulps, gaze trailing down your body. he always finds excuses to put off telling you how he feels.

or rather, excuses find him. something comes up every time he gets the courage to do it. he has no idea why he’s so scared because he’s pretty sure you like him back. pretty sure. there are a few reasons why you might not. also, plenty why you might. you stay up late texting most nights, and you’ve even flirted a couple of times. it never fails to make peter blush. he trips over his words whenever he tries to flirt back.

he’s had feelings for you since the first time you two hung out alone. none of your other friends could make it, but you happily took him up on his offer to come over. you grinned through his whole apartment tour, asked about may and what she does. when peter showed you his room, you even complimented his movie posters, much to his surprise.

“really? you don’t think they’re, like, dorky?”

“no, peter. your interests aren’t dorky. everyone likes what they like.”

and, he liked you. he knew it from that point on. you’d know it too if the universe wouldn’t keep stopping him from saying that.

“she’s so...” peter pauses for a second. him and ned watch you pull betty in by her shoulders as if you’re going to kiss her. she dodges you, mj pushing her back, all three of you giggling about it before you grab betty’s hands and give her words of encouragement. “cool,” peter finishes, turning back to ned. “i mean, how she puts herself out there like that.”

“what’s stopping you from doing the same thing?” ned points out with a knowing smile that peter returns. you make it look so easy. whenever you’re comfortable around people, you can let go of any doubts you have. you stop worrying about what they might think and instead do what you want. it’s inspiring to peter, and heart warming getting to be one of the people you’re fully you with.

he wishes he could apply your wisdom himself.

peter shakes his head, staring down at the floor. “oh, you know. anxiety, fear of rejection. that fun stuff.” “so, yourself,” ned concludes, clapping peter’s backpack so hard it makes him stumble forward. betty and mj wave goodbye to you before heading to their first class. you’re still getting your things together at your locker. this is peter’s moment.

“come on, dude! y/n’s not busy anymore. you got this.” ned keeps his hand on peter’s back, adding on, “it’s been a year already.” “half a year,” peter corrects him in a mumble. he’s liked you for a really long time. “ok, i’m going. wish me luck.” he takes a deep breath and focuses in on you. “aw, dude. you don’t need it.” ned gives him one last pat on the back. “good luck, though.” “thanks, man. see you in trig.”

right as peter starts heading over, harry comes up behind you and covers your eyes. you squeal, jumping up and turning to him, laughing as you playfully hit at his chest. he brings you into a hug where your face is buried in his sweater and probably inhaling his super strong, super expensive cologne.

that’s what’s stopping peter, harry freaking osborn. his own friend.

peter quickly loses the tiny bit of confidence ned gave him. he figures it might be better to hold off on his confession and get an early start to class. unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like that’s going to happen. harry has already spotted him and calls him over.

“hey, pete! come give us some love, eh?” harry beams, an arm slung around your shoulders and you smiling up at him. you direct your smile to peter when he slumps his way to your locker. his lips pull into a barely noticeable frown. you notice. “there’s my guy. why so down, sunshine?” harry offers his fist for a fist bump. peter gives it to him, eyes staying on you.

harry osborn. where to begin with such a specimen? he’s the perfect combination of everything you’d want in a guy. he gets good grades, he’s a star player on on the basketball team, nice to everyone and makes you laugh, popular yet fits right into your small group.

he was friends with you before the popular thing. what kicked it off was him making varsity basketball while only being a sophomore. yep, he’s unreal. since then, he’s been balancing his cool life and also hanging with “the nerds,” as he likes to call you. he got his own feelings for you along the way. peter can tell.

he’ll give you rides home, compliment how you look, basically act like your boyfriend without really being it. it absolutely infuriates peter because he doesn’t compare to harry in the slightest. if he were you and had the choice between himself or harry, he would pick harry.

it’s been a factor in why he hasn’t come clean about how he feels yet. he’s not trying to create a love triangle that he doesn’t stand a chance surviving in.

“for real, peter. you good?” you ask him, eyebrows knitted together in concern. “fine,” peter lies and musters up a smile. “i’m just tired. didn’t sleep too good last night.” you’re only more concerned now. this has been happening to him a lot lately. you search for his eyes. “again?”

“aw, man. you need something for it?” harry punches peter’s shoulder and lowers his voice. “i know this kid who-“ “harry, stop.” your words are serious, tone lighthearted. you throw your head back on his arm. “do you really know a kid?” “i’m not telling you,” he says in an overly happy voice, you humming the same way. peter feels like he’s third wheeling.

“i was telling pete.” harry looks at him expectantly, peter’s mouth dropping open while he thinks of what to say. harry likes to mess around. this is a different level, though. “no thanks. i- i shouldn’t. i’m-“ “relax, i don’t know a kid,” harry chuckles and points at peter. “your face right now.” it’s completely flushed. you knock into harry’s side.

“ok, well literally no one laughed. you’re scaring him,” you tell harry sternly. peter tugs tight on one of his backpack straps. he doesn’t feel like he’s third wheeling you two now. he feels like your kid. he’ll never let ned mettle in his love life ever again if this is where it gets him. “he knows i’m kidding, y/n/n. right?” harry checks with peter. you make a face at him that says you aren’t convinced.

he switches his arm from you to peter, drawing him into his side. “look, pete. i’m sorry. the only kid i know who’s selling is chocolates for his band trip.” you’re satisfied with that, grinning at both of them. peter forces a laugh and nods. “no worries, man. i gotta get to class.” “good boy,” harry lets him go. “bye, pete. we’ll see you at lunch,” you remind him. he gives you a tight lipped smile. “see you, y/n/n.”

you and harry continue practically spooning each other as soon as peter is out of sight.

what the hell is going on?

peter is back to being grumpy, plopping down in his seat next to ned. their teacher has the lesson plan pulled up on the smart board. ned looks from it to peter, almost jumping in his seat. “oh, you’re back already? how’d it go?” “it didn’t go,” peter huffs, copying down the aim. he’s only doing it so he doesn’t have to look ned in the eyes while telling him he bailed. again.

“you didn’t do it?” ned repeats, peter writing something about pi and a unit circle in his notebook. he bites the inside of his cheek. “you have to do it at some point,” ned sighs out and picks up his pencil. even he’s getting tired of this, and ned never gets tired of a good friends to lovers moment. “i think she likes harry,” peter says under his breath. “huh?” ned gasps.

peter doesn’t feel like explaining the extremely awkward moment he just finished living. although, it wouldn’t hurt to get a second opinion. “y/n. he came over, and they kept hugging and whatever.” “they always do that,” ned almost scoffs, their trigonometry teacher moving to stand in front of the class. “yeah, but he had his arm around her the whole time we-“

the bell rings and cuts their conversation short. peter struggles to label the unit circle they learn about when his mind is filled to its capacity with images of you and harry all over each other. it’s not daydreaming. this is a nightmare. maybe, he actually will be having sleep problems.

peter’s morning is relatively decent after that. he gets to do an experiment with mj in chemistry, and she lets him take the lead for once. spanish is easy, health is okay, then he has a free period, then it’s lunch. things can only go downhill from here.

he thinks about hiding in the library until it’s over, but it’s the thought of harry eating your face that gets him to drag himself to the cafeteria.

flash is at the head of your table talking to harry when peter gets there. great, now he can’t eat his soggy chicken fingers in peace. “sounds dope. let’s go on the-“ flash stops saying what he was saying and nods at peter. “penis parker, you’re late.” peter takes his seat on your left, harry on your right. you glance over at him to make sure he’s okay. he acts like he doesn’t care, peeling open his milk carton.

“just text me later, man. get outta here,” harry dismisses flash, the two of them doing a bro handshake before he leaves. he’s well aware of his and peter’s history. he keeps them separate for the obvious reasons. peter appreciates it because saying no to flash is nearly impossible. he shouldn’t be so mad at harry, should he? he’s a good friend.

harry’s arm snakes around your waist and brings you closer to him. never mind.

“who’s up for sushi later?” he asks the table, everyone agreeing and saying how awesome that sounds. everyone except peter. you tap his shoulder with a small smile. “what about you, peter? you coming?” he realizes you’re all waiting for him to respond and puts down his milk. “uh, i can’t. homework,” he lamely answers.

“dude, we have homework, too. just do it a little later,” ned suggests, betty laying her head on his shoulder. you share a look with her, your eyes wide and a grin on your lips. that must have been what you were talking about this morning. she asked for boy advice. ned advice. why can’t this crap work out for peter?

“i really can’t. sorry, guys,” peter half heartedly apologizes.

he misses the disappointment that crosses your features because he’s pouting at his lunch again.

“homework, huh?” mj tests him, squinting as she takes a sip of apple juice. harry nudges peter’s side with two fingers. “you still mad about the sleeping thing?” “sleeping thing? what sleeping thing?” betty wonders while ned rests his head against hers. a quiet laugh slips out of you as you lean in to tell her.

“peter said he couldn’t sleep last night, so harry offered him...” you mime rolling a joint. “i said no,” peter clarifies, rolling his eyes at the inevitable teasing he’s about to get. none of you have even smoked besides harry. you’re being annoying about it. “of course you did,” mj sighs and kicks her feet up on the table. “unrelated to what y/n just said... harry, i have insomnia.”

everyone bursts into laughter at that, betty shoving her side and you pulling harry by his torso as he pretends to go into his backpack. peter wants nothing to do with any of this. he usually enjoys joking around with the group, even if it’s at his expense because it’s from a place of love.

today feels like you’re straight up making fun of him. harry might as well invite flash to join in.

“alright, alright, alright. enough of the weed talk,” harry decides, you removing your arms from him and grabbing your coffee. “you’re such a bad influence.” your voice drips with sarcasm. you bend the straw and take a sip while scooting closer to peter. “you really can’t come later? i feel like i’ve barely seen you today.” that’s on harry. “i wish i could, y/n/n,” peter exhales. “i’ll text you later, okay?”

you don’t get to answer because mj tugs on your arm, distracting you from peter. she explains how she has to do an art project on what it means to be a woman and needs help brainstorming ideas. you’re full of them, offering up an interesting perspective for her to use. peter smiles to himself as he listens in. you find a new way to impress him every day.

he should tell you that.

“hey, y/n?” “listen to her! you’re seriously my idol,” betty gushes, so loudly you don’t hear peter. not a single thing has gone in his favor at this table. he gives up.

peter locks himself in his room when he gets home from his overall terrible day. he does homework like he said he would, only taking a break for dinner, giving one word replies to may’s questions about school. he’d much rather be having sushi with you. he would’ve gone if the others didn’t.

after dinner, it’s back to grumbling and scribbling down answers. there’s a knock at peter’s door around ten o’clock, which he assumes is may saying goodnight. “i’ll be done in a few minutes, may! love you.” “it’s y/n,” you reply, the smile clear in your voice. his eyes go comically wide. that’s the last thing he expected to hear. “oh. uh, come in.”

you’re holding a small takeout bag, shutting the door behind you and walking over to his desk. you meet his twinkling eyes in the dim light that hits off his walls. from his open window, you faintly hear cars as they rush by and honk their horns in the distance, accompanied by a fresh breeze. it’s cozy, safe. it’s peter.

“hey. what’re you doing here?” peter questions, leaving his pencil in his binder and shutting it. you shake around the plastic bag. “i saved you a roll.” he bites back a smile, getting up from his chair. “may let me in. she was really chill about it,” you continue and hold out the sushi for him. “it’s a california roll. i wasn’t sure what you wanted, and everyone likes those.”

peter lets his smile spread out and takes the bag from you. “thanks, y/n/n. i was honestly hoping one of you would have leftovers.” you laugh softly, peter setting the bag down on his desk. he scratches the back of his neck. “did you guys have fun?” “yeah. i missed you, though.” you clasp your hands behind your back. “everyone did.”

“i feel bad i didn’t go. just... things felt off today,” peter admits the real reason he stayed home, you letting out a breath. “it was harry, wasn’t it? god, he was being so weird.” your arms drop back to your sides. “there’s a difference between playing around and actually upsetting people.” by people, you mean peter. no one else seemed too bothered by him. “i’m sorry, peter. i tried to make him stop.”

“no, you don’t have to apologize,” peter assures you sweetly, grabbing one of your hands. “it’s not your fault, okay? he probably didn’t realize what he was doing. the jokes landed.” he’s referring to ned, mj, and betty finding harry’s comments hilarious. you lace your fingers with peter’s and frown. “this isn’t like him. maybe he’s stressed about a game.” your gaze drifts off to the side, what you see getting you to perk up.

“is that new?” you ask peter, leading him by his hand over to a poster he put up recently. it’s for 13 going on 30. you showed it to him a couple of weeks ago, and he clearly liked it a lot. any movie that makes it to peter’s wall is a special one. “mhm. i got it literally right after you went home the night we watched,” he chuckles and looks over at you while you study the poster.

you turn to face peter again, keeping your hand tight in his. “were you gonna tell me something earlier? at lunch?” he’s confused for a second, then he remembers your ideas for mj’s art project. the fact that you cared enough to bring it up after all these hours makes his stomach do summersaults in the best way. he shrugs and gives you a smile.

“the stuff you were saying about femininity and how there are so many ways to define it,” peter starts, you grinning back at him, at how he took an interest in what you were saying. “you’re so smart, y/n. you make me wanna be better.” a light pink dusts his cheeks. “peter, you’re a feminist?” you coo, joking but genuinely wondering at the same time. he squeezes your hand. “duh.”

“i thought so,” you nod, taking in the rest of what he said. “you think i’m smart? i trust you because you’re way smarter.” peter pffts in response. “i’m only good at, like, physics. you’re good at things that really matter. smart in that way.” you’re feeling your own face get hot. you swing yours and peter’s hands back and forth. “why are you the nicest person ever?”

the answer to that, may, peeks her head into the room. “hey, kids. it’s getting late.” she notices your intertwined hands and shoots peter a smirk. “i thought you were a cool aunt,” he teases, you sadly letting go of him. “she is. thanks for having me over so late,” you tell may on your way to the door. “oh, stop it. you can come over any time.” she puts a hand on your arm. “thank you so much,” you murmur back.

you walk backwards to the doorway, may leaving you two to say your goodbyes. “wanna hang out only you and me? on friday maybe?” that should make up for everything earlier. “yeah, of course. friday is perfect,” peter agrees and bounces on his feet as excitement takes over him. “thanks again for the sushi.”

“no problem. goodnight.” it’s taking every last bit of power in you to not freak out. “night. text me when you get home.” he presses his tongue into his cheek. you slowly pull the door shut. “ok, i will. bye!” it closes, leaving peter skipping across his room to his bed on one side and you doing a little happy dance on the other.

the next day at school, everything is back to normal. honestly, better than normal. your hangout with peter is tomorrow, and he’s planning on telling he likes you then. he already talked it over with ned. he’s relieved it’s finally happening, especially since him and betty have their own thing. she’ll be taking up most of his free time from here.

your group is spending lunch outside today, lounging across a picnic table, surrounded by trees and the shining sun in a bright blue sky. mj sits on the table and has her feet on the bench, which would usually bug peter to no end. he doesn’t mind this time because it takes up enough room that harry has to sit with ned and betty instead of you. you lean into peter’s side and stab a piece of lettuce from your salad.

“it’s so nice out,” betty sighs, ripping off half her cookie and giving it to ned. “we should ditch.” “oh my god, you sound like harry,” you groan between bites of salad. peter lets out a breathy laugh, you looping your arm through his. he grins down at where you’re linked. harry crosses his own arms over his chest. “she wishes.” betty only nods because her mouth is full of m&m’s.

“nah, seriously. i’d take us out somewhere, but i have practice after school.” he speaks quieter than he normally does, less confident. your theory about him having basketball drama was right. “what did we tell you? talk about the sports shit with your sports friends,” mj complains, sitting back on her hands. she glances at harry over her shoulder and catches ned mouthing you can’t say that.

sitting criss cross, she spins around to face harry, unenthusiastically saying, “what i meant was, you sound upset. what’s wrong?” harry gets into it right away, like he’s been waiting for someone to ask. “coach says there might be a scout at the next game. it’s a really good opportunity even though i don’t have to worry about... college yet.” the word makes him cringe.

“oh, damn. that’s a big deal. scary,” mj snorts, turning back to you and peter. her behavior makes ned internally face palm. “that’s awesome, dude. you’re gonna play amazing like always.” he gives harry a high five, who smiles nervously in response. he’s never nervous. “thanks, bro. you guys wanna come and watch?” he’s never invited you to one of his games before either.

this isn’t a group of friends that likes to spend their weekends in bleachers while angry teens shout around them.

“definitely. we’ll be there to support you, harry,” betty answers for everyone, ned pecking her cheek in satisfaction. mj cusses to herself before replying. “if i absolutely must, sure.” only you and peter haven’t said anything yet. he’s been chewing his lower lip, and you your salad. harry looks between you two hopefully. it’s more so at you, which peter doesn’t like.

“y/n? pete? it would help a lot, i’m serious.” he taps his fingers on the table until one of you speaks up. you’re the one who does. “i’ll go. this is pretty huge, right? congrats.” you reach across the table and squeeze his shoulder while simultaneously tightening your arm around peter’s. he takes that as a cue. “i’ll go, too. happy for you, man.”

though peter isn’t currently in the best place with harry, he should show his support by showing up. it can’t be too bad since the rest of you will be there.

a loud, long chuckle leaves harry as he hops up from his bench and comes to yours and peter’s. he bends over and wraps both of you in a hug from behind at the same time. his arms are around each of your shoulders, holding you so close his cheeks are squished against either of your heads. you giggle at that, peter finding himself laughing along and reaching back to ruffle harry’s hair.

staying mad at him is one of the world’s greatest challenges.

“you’re saints, both of you. my angels.” he kisses the back of your head, then lays one right on peter’s cheek, leaving him blushing red and grinning. “what about the rest of us? i never go to shit like this,” mj huffs and seems genuinely offended. harry wiggles his eyebrows. “you want a kiss?” his offer gets her flustered, which she can’t manage to hide. that’s a first.

“shut up. i’m just saying... never mind.” mj glares at you and peter, ned and betty making kissing noises behind her. “someone change the subject.” peter steps in. “when’s the game, harry?” he asks, harry snapping and waving his finger. “tomorrow! cancel your plans, kiddos.” “like we had any,” betty retorts.

some of you did. that was going to be peter’s hangout with you.

ned smiles sympathetically at peter before betty is getting his attention. you‘re unfazed and rambling to harry how proud you are of him.

did last night mean nothing? was it an empty gesture? were you only doing it out of guilt? peter must have read your visit wrong. he’s been wrong the whole time he’s liked you. you don’t like him back, you pity him. harry is who you’re really interested in.

may always says he should trust his instincts.

peter pulls his arm from yours suddenly, swinging his backpack onto his shoulders. you’re taken back because it’s so out of no where. you stop talking to harry so you can figure out his deal. “where are you going?” “bell’s gonna ring,” peter mumbles and picks up his lunch tray. he heads to the garbage can without another word or goodbye to anyone.

“i’m gonna go check on him,” you tell harry, already getting up from the bench. “you do that,” he acknowledges and calls mj’s name again.

peter tosses his mostly untouched food in the trash, seeing you make your way over from the corner of his eye. he tries to speed walk inside so he doesn’t have to talk to you. you’re too quick, cornering him between the door and brick wall.

“we still have ten minutes,” you state, worry flashing across your face. he’s avoiding you. well, attempting to. “what’s wrong?” peter gulps before saying anything. “my next class is on the other side of the-“ “no,” you cut him off. “what’s really wrong?”

he doesn’t feel like having this discussion. it’s bad enough he came to the realization his feelings are one sided. must he break that down for you so soon?

you toy with your sleeve while you speak because peter doesn’t. “i thought you and harry were fine again. i mean, he kissed you.” peter clenches his jaw so hard he can imagine the sound of it cracking. “it’s not about harry.” “what, then? what the fuck happened?” your sleeves are now balled in your fists. you hate it when peter does this angsty routine.

he keeps his voice low and calm so he doesn’t come off as jealous or hurt. he’s both of those things. “the game is tomorrow. friday. when we were supposed to hang out.” you meet peter’s eyes with nothing but remorse in yours. “i... i forgot,” is all you have to say.

you feel awful. he’s had a tough couple of days, and you fell through on your promise to cheer him up.

“clearly,” peter remarks, voice sharp. the way you’re looking at him makes him think he won’t like what’s coming. “peter, we have to go,” you almost whine. “i’m really sorry, i am, but this is a big night for harry. he needs us there.” peter stays silent. you’re twisting the knife deeper into him with every word. “i wouldn’t be cancelling if this wasn’t important.”

now you’re cancelling?

you reach for peter’s hand, but he shoves it into his pocket. that stings for you and him. “please, peter. we’ll hang out at the game, i swear.” this is the last chance you’ve got, so you pile it on. “harry won’t even be there, technically. he’ll... he’ll be on the court.” peter hadn’t thought about that. he lets himself unclench, starting to see the appeal. you add one more thing to lighten the mood and persuade him.

“i’ll buy you popcorn, all you can eat.” it’s that easy. cracking a smile, peter accepts. he’ll deal with his unresolved, unreciprocated feelings after he stuffs his face, courtesy of you. “you better. i’m gonna need it for this long ass game.” your face lights up, grabbing his wrist in both hands.

“so, you’ll come?” “i’ll be there,” he confirms. you throw your arms around his neck. he laughs into the hug and holds you by your middle. “i promise this’ll be the first and last game we ever go to,” you say and mean it. harry is lucky you’re even suffering through this a first time. “thank god,” peter exhales, resting his chin on your head.

that interaction leaves peter confused as hell. you’re crushing his mind and soul one minute, then hugging him the next. you were making him feel so special lasts night, and treating harry the same way today. it’s so jumbled that he isn’t sure if he’s in the friend zone or something more zone.

there are a ton of mixed signals coming his way, and he sucks at reading people as is.

he can’t take another second of this. he’d rather you come out and say you like harry already because it’s torture. knowing you don’t want him in that way would at least eliminate the possibility of anything happening between you two, and allow him to stop driving himself insane.

he’d be able to stop taking it out on harry, too.

the hold you have on peter, that you’re oblivious to, rules his every thought and decision. he’s constantly analyzing what you say to him, debating whether or not your affection is simply platonic. it’s been half a year of this madness, the night of harry’s game blurring every line so much more.

your group arrives a bit early to find seats and hype harry up before he plays. peter gets there after all of you because he’s not exactly in a rush to watch sweaty guys be aggressive. there’s only one upside, which is spending the night with you... and everyone else.

he steps into the gym that’s filling up fast with family members, friends, and the college scout harry was talking about. midtown has a different feeling to it at night. the smell of pencils is oddly stronger, and it’s a lot less intimidating.

cheerleaders are huddled in a circle while the team supervisor has them run their chants. the “leading official,” who peter thought was called a referee, takes his place off to the side. coaches give their players last minute instructions, players fool around with each other, a lot is going on.

peter scans the room for you, and grins a toothy grin when you catch his eyes. you’re sitting by yourself in one of the middle bleachers, only a bag of skinny pop in your lap. you return the smile once you spot him and wave him over.

“i don’t know why, but i thought they’d have an actual concession stand,” you explain the lack of fresh, buttery popcorn as peter takes a seat next to you. he catches the prepackaged bag you toss him. “it’s just a snack table.” “works either way,” peter hums and pokes the bag. “i’m not sure skinny pop is all i can eat, though.” “it’s good!” you defend the snack you chose for him.

“i’m kidding! you’re right, it’s kind of addicting.” he puts it by his feet for now and gives you a half smile. “you’re welcome,” you deadpan in a playful tone. “thanks.” he narrows his eyes. “where’s everyone else?” “right,” you twist around and gesture to the bleacher above you. mj is gloomily seated near the back. ned and betty are a few behind you.

“i told them to find their own seats so we can sit together, alone.” you look over at peter and move ever so slightly closer. “welcome to our friday hangout. just the two of us.” “aw, you didn’t have to do that,” peter laughs out, his knee bumping yours. “but, i’m happy you did.” he goes to put an arm around you, then harry comes racing up the stairs.

just the two of you didn’t last so long.

“y/n, i’m freaking out,” harry announces, zooming through your row to get over to you. he stops once he’s standing in front of peter and shakes him by his shoulder. “hey, pete. you made it.” “yup,” peter replies, pressing his lips together. you wince at his reaction, then quirk an eyebrow at harry. “you’re freaking out? why?”

harry sits down between you and peter, blissfully unaware of the moment he interrupted.

“i found the scout. he’s fucking terrifying as fuck. this super ripped guy, looks like he’d rather be anywhere else,” he talks quietly, like the man will hear him. “he’s not the only one,” peter says to himself, kicking around his bag of popcorn to pass time. you ignore him and grimace.

“shit. wait, how do you know it’s him? did they tell you?” you’re not sure how these things go. harry casually shrugs a shoulder. “dude has a clipboard. seems legit to me.” he gives you a cocky smile. “he’s also in the row before mj. that’s how i noticed. um...” his back now facing peter, he whispers something in your ear that makes you giggle.

peter’s face scrunches up as the spark of anger the past few days have lit reignites itself.

when harry pulls away, you motion for him to come closer with your index finger, cupping your hand around his ear and speaking into it.

nope, no more. peter is entirely about to explode. you cancelled your plans so you can force him to watch basketball, you sweet talk him so he’ll let it go, and you’re running right back to harry after all of that? what the hell does that mean?

peter stands up from his seat. “y/n, we need to talk,” he demands, you moving away from harry to respond. “ok, gimme a minute. we’re-“ “no, we need to talk now.” you don’t have time to refute because he’s taking your arm and dragging you away. harry squints at you in utter confusion.

“um, have a good game! we’ll talk later,” you call back to him, walking with peter even though you have no idea what his issue is and aren’t a fan of how he’s acting.

he releases you once you’re in the hallway. you make a point of harshly yanking your arm back, a scowl painting your lips. “jesus, peter. i was having a conversation.” “do you like harry?” peter blurts out. you’re so shocked at his abruptness that you don’t give him much to work with, only, “what?” “do you like harry?” he asks you again, this time less accusing and more curious.

“do i like...” you’re too aware of the seemingly hundreds of people surrounding you to answer comfortably. “can we talk about this somewhere else?” “sure,” peter nods, letting you lead the way since he did to get out here. you two go down the hall and choose the first room you see, which happens to be the custodian’s closet. it’s thankfully unlocked.

things were tense between you and peter on the way over, and it’s physically mirrored when you step into the room, air thick and smelling of lemon cleaning supplies. you tug on the string hanging down to turn on the light. it casts a faded glow, leaving you in mostly darkness. you sort of like it. this feels more intimate, which is fitting for what you’re both about to say.

neither one of you knows where to begin. peter’s question is ringing in the back of your mind, and you could touch on that, but there’s more to it than a simple yes or no. you don’t have to worry about it because peter gets his words out first.

“i think harry likes you, and i think you like him back,” peter restarts, already sounding deflated by what he came up with. “he doesn’t, and i don’t.” you take a step towards him. “he likes mj.” it’s peter’s turn to be shocked. the hint of a smile sets on your lips. “that’s what we were talking about. harry asked if he should take her to dinner after the game, and i said yes.”

this is going better than he expected.

“mj is the one who likes him, not me,” you reiterate and watch some life enter peter again, a tiny bit. he’s coming around, and he wants to believe you. his trust issues don’t. “but, you’re so... touchy with each other. the hugging the other day?” he mentions. you tilt your head to the side in amusement. “friends can’t hug?”

to be fair, you hugged peter yesterday. that’s a point rightfully shut down.

“he calls you pretty,” peter tries, raising both eyebrows. you have to laugh at this one. “you call may pretty.”

obviously, peter’s analysis skills could use some serious improvements. it sounds like he had the right idea, wrong person. your relationship with harry is platonic. hell, he’s crushing on a whole different person. this actually opens up the possibility of you liking peter in the romantic way, of him being in the something more zone. he had it backwards.

in case peter isn’t convinced yet, and because you really want to, you use one more trick to prove to him you don’t like harry.

“do me and harry do this?” your lips speak for you, colliding with peter’s unexpectedly yet easily. he feels like he’s floating, like he’s in some sort of magical wonderland until it hits him that this is real, and he should probably kiss you back. he does so softly and tangles his fingers in your locks. his hand supports the back of your head as the kiss goes on.

you push forward so your bodies are almost fused together, the closest you can be while you hold his jaw. peter breaks the kiss for a short breather, going back in without more than a moment passing. this one is feverish, his free arm looping around your lower back, hand resting on the small of it. you let out a giggle against his swollen lips and stroke your thumb over his jawline.

he’s been waiting to do this for the longest time, but he doesn’t have to tell you that. it shows in how eager he was to reciprocate, his shyness blossoming into passion. you feel yourself melting under his touch, the kiss eventually becoming a series of short pecks. peter gives you the final one. his pink lips form a grin when you pull apart. your hands stay on each other, not in a rush to go anywhere.

“woah, i like you so much,” peter laughs out. the words roll off his tongue naturally. “you know i like you,” you drawl, smiling at him, a full body smile while you caress his skin. he winds both arms around you and dips his head down to steal another kiss. you’re loving what’s happening. however, you don’t feel like making out while dirty brooms stare at you. you should take this back home.

“wanna get out of here? i do,” you suggest, voice muffled from his lips. they detach from yours and brush your cheek gently. peter makes a funny face. “hm, i thought we had to come. harry needs us,” he says what you did yesterday, earning a groan back. “you’re joking.” “i’m not. what kind of friends would we be, ditching him like that?”

he’s going to end you one day.

“yeah, no. i have no idea how basketball works, and i’d like to keep it that way,” peter drops the act, pressing his fingers into your sides. “i’ve been so mean to harry. i was...” “a dick?” you finish for him. it’s more of a statement than a question. to soften the blow, you rub his cheek with the tips of your fingers. “yup. he’s gonna think i hate him or something if we don’t stay.” his formerly smiley face is frowning.

“harry of all people will understand after we tell him our reasons,” you reassure him, nudging under his chin with your nose. “besides, he has other things to worry about. mj, the scout. it’s fine.” peter considers it, ultimately giving in to you like he always does, resting his forehead on yours. “i guess so. less distractions for him, yeah.” “exactly. that’s what i wanna hear.”

having his approval, you unwind yourself from him and head to the door. his fingers wrap around your wrist gently. “what about my popcorn?” a giggle escapes your lips. “you’re still on that?” “you said all i can eat!” his voice comes out high pitched, adorably high pitched.

“fine. i might have those bags you put in the microwave.” you smile when his fingers lock with yours, peter kissing the side of your head.

“even better. let’s go home.”

[sageyrage]

Warm Hug

Mentions & Implications: This is a Bakugou x Fem!Reader fic. This is part of the BNHAREM collab. This month is all about our favorite blasty boi, Bakugou! Also I hope all of this makes sense. I wrote this in many parts over the past few weeks and I'm eternally distracted. So while I normally spell check and grammar check everything, this fic did not receive any of that lol. No warnings really unless you count language because let’s face it, this is about Bakugou and according to fandom, he curses. But since this a fluff, I kept it to a minimum. Also, I really suck at fluff, so if you actually like this, please let me know. I could use the serotonin and dopamine.

He watched her glide on water and come sliding to a stop, spraying water in the villain’s face. For the first time he was starstruck. How had he not noticed her before? They were in the same class together. They graduated together, right? Surely he’d trained with her at some point. So why was today the first day he actually SAW her?

She felt eyes on her. Cold, calculated, crimson. Her breath hitched and she almost lost her footing if it weren’t for the fact she remembered she was in the middle of apprehending a criminal. After the handoff to police, Y/N wondered if it actually happened. Did he really look at her? Did he finally notice her after all these years? A side glance from behind her shades told her that yes, he was most definitely looking at her.

He was angry at himself for not remembering. Affirmations about you from Kirishima solidified that you were there. You’d always been there. You’d been quiet, while he’d been loud. You’d been slow and steady, while he rushed ahead. He had Mina speak about you. She eagerly complied and caught him up on everything that made you-you.

“Did you really forget about Y/N being in our class? She hung out with everyone!” Mina laughed.

“Not with me. Tell me more about her.” He filled out paperwork as Mina chatted on, while on the opposite side of the building, Kirishima was having the exact same conversation with Y/N.

“It’s disheartening that he’s just now noticing that I exist. But that’s okay. He’s been hyper-focused on trying to be #1. No one should fault him for that.” Y/N played with the hem of her shirt before sighing and picking up the sandwich on her plate.

“He’s still a good guy, Y/N. He’s just never been good at socializing.” Kirishima took a bite of his food and downed it with a gulp of lemonade.

“Oh I know. It’s okay. I’ll just keep watching him from afar. I don’t want to give him a reason to lose his focus.

/*-+-*/

He watched her in the office. She gave him side glances on patrols. They would discreetly help each other while taking villains down. And then one Winter day he asked her to train with him.

"Oh! Oh sure, that sounds like fun!" He and Y/N made their way to a nearby facility and lost themselves in a few hours of teaching how to support the other with their quirks.

/*-+-*/

"I wanna ask her out on a date, but I don't at the same time."

Kirishima looked at his friend with confusion. "You know it's obvious that you two like each other, right? I mean... literally everyone can see it. You two spend almost every waking minute with each other. What's stopping you?"

"I really like her. I don't wanna scare her away." He rose from his place on the couch and frustratingly ran his fingers through his hair as he made his way to the oversized window.

/*-+-*/

"Can I borrow this? Mine got ripped to shreds when a villain fought me on my way home the other night." Holding up a black sweatshirt, Y/N waved it in front of Mina's face. Mina blinked in thought before breaking out into laughter and nodding. Y/N slipped it over her head, inhaling the faint scent of smoked caramel. “Thanks! I’ll keep it until I can get another one!” With a sly smile, her pink alien friend waved her off and told her not to worry about it.

The cold wind was sharp on her face when she pulled the hood over her head and inhaled. The scent calmed her like a warm hug as she hurried home. Thoughts of a spiky haired man invaded her mind, making her already pink cheeks burn. She loved the man since their first year at UA. He never looked her way, never knew she existed. But she watched him as they faced trials and tribulations as a class, as individuals, and now as heroes. What made him finally look at her? She entered the dark apartment and kicked off her boots in favor of the memory foam bunny slippers, sighing as she shuffled to her room. She fell against the pillows and plushies on her bed and fell asleep still wrapped up in the black sweatshirt, a smile on her face as visions of Bakugou invaded her dreams.

/*-+-*/

“What’s so funny?” Y/N tilted her head, looking at a giggling Mina as they entered the doors of the agency.

“Oh nothing!” Mina sang as she skipped into the room. Bakugou was already stationed at the coffee pot, glaring at it as if willing it to drip faster with the black gold. A side glance stilled his heart for a fleeting moment when he saw Y/N walk in. All smiles and sunshine next to her friend. Then he saw it. Bakugou couldn’t help but notice the familiarity of the pullover. There was a certain tear by the pocket with a singed edge. “Where did you get that sweatshirt?”

She hugged herself in the oversized sweater, “Mina let me have it, why?”

“It’s mine.”

“Oh. … OH!” Shrugging off the garment hastily, she folded it over and offered it to him, “I’m so sorry, Bakugou! I had no idea!” Keeping her eyes down, she heard a soft ‘tch’ and a shadow moving away.

“Hurry up and get changed so we can go train.”

She watched him walk away, and heard stifled laughter behind her. Turning to see Kirishima and Mina huddled together at a corner table, Y/N walked up to her friends and hissed, “What is so funny? He’s clearly upset that I have something that belongs to him!”

“Oh sweet summer child, you really are clueless, aren’t you?” Pinky beamed and grabbed Y/N’s hand. Kirishima shook his head and laughed, “He really likes you!”

Stars lit up in Y/N’s eyes as she turned in time to watch Bakugou turn the corner. “He...likes me too?” Still clutching the pullover in her arms, she quickly followed after him, only to see him enter the locker room. Turning around, she noticed the door to his office was open. She entered his room and left the sweatshirt on his desk before leaving to get ready to train.

/*-+-*/

Hours later, Bakugou walked into his office, narrowing his eyes at the black bundle on the desk. He picked it up to examine it when soft notes of jasmine and vanilla wafted up to his nose. He narrowed his eyes and tucked the shirt under his arm as he took a folder into his other hand and left the agency.

The entryway of his home lit up when he turned the key and opened the door. Kicking off shoes and padding down the hall, he deposited the jumper and folder onto the table before unwinding for the evening. Once evening chores, dinner, and paperwork were all caught up, it was time for bed. He started for his bedroom when he spied the hoodie on the table. Gingerly picking it up he took it to his bedroom and slipped into bed. Cuddling the garment close, he inhaled the vanilla jasmine scent, and all thoughts of Y/N consumed him as he fell asleep.

Bakugou walked into the agency the next morning and took notice of Y/N wearing a new sweatshirt in an ombre gray. Scoffing to himself, he poured himself a cup of coffee. “...look better in black.”

Y/N turned at Bakugou's mumbling, “Hmm? Did you say something?”

“I said you look better in black!” Narrowing his eyes he gave her a severe look and stomped out of the room to his office, slamming the door behind him. He never did see the small smile and blush that crossed her features.

/*-+-*/

Weeks of lighthearted flirting turned into months, and the cool morning of Spring kissed Y/N’s skin as she walked into the lounge room of the agency rubbing her arms for warmth. He was already pouring a cup of coffee when she came in. He cocked an eyebrow and scoffed. “It’s not even cold outside anymore.” He watched her sunshine smile as she stepped near him, only to open the refrigerator door.

“It is to me!” Y/N blushed as she hid her face on the other side of the door, before pulling out a bottle of orange juice and retreated to her office. A bundle in black was draped over her chair. It was the hoodie she had returned to Bakugou months ago. She turned the covering over her arms, the scent of caramel and smoke filling her senses, a smile of giddiness on her face.

“Just tell him already!”

Y/N jumped to find her pink friend leaned against the doorframe. “Mina! I-I can’t do that. He’s got to focus, remember? I don’t want to get in the way of him trying to achieve what he wants the most.”

Mina crossed her arms and shook her head. “You’re so dense sometimes, Y/N. He gave that back to you. He clearly likes you. And you! Your cheeks might as well be permanently pink, and you have hearts in your eyes! Everyone in this building can see how in love you are. I’ve been talking to Kirishima and he agrees with me. We’ve been watching you two flirt for a long time, and it’s agonizing! And you know what? He’s scared of asking you out. He’s afraid to run you off. You’re going to have to be the one to do it. You’re going to have to ask him out.”

Floored by the new information, Y/N sunk into her chair, clutching the hoodie close to her heart. Her mind faltered and unable to form words, she stared dumbly at her best friend. “But- I… He’s scared of running me off?”

/*-+*/

“You just left it in her office? Why didn’t you just give it to her? Everyone in this building already knows you like each other! Be manly and just tell her already, bro!” Kirishima exclaimed, zipping up his duffel bag. “You know what? If you don’t go ask her out, I will. I think she’s pretty cute and I bet we’d have a great time at this new ramen shop that just opened across the street.”

A low growl emanated from the explosion hero, “Don’t you dare.” Still in his hero uniform, Bakugou stormed out of the locker room leaving his best friend to snicker and shake his head.

/*-+-*/

Hearing a familiar stomp down the hall, Mina gleefully smiled before moving aside to allow Bakugou to enter. “I’ll see you later Y/N! I expect a call or text soon!” Mina shut the door as she waved her goodbye, leaving both heroes to stare at each other, their voices trapped from shyness.

Remembering the sweater in her arms, Y/N rose from her chair and slowly walked toward the tall blonde. “You left this for me?”

“Yeah.”

“Are we sharing this hoodie now?”

“I’m letting you borrow it. It’ll keep you warm better than that crappy one you had. It’s going to be cold tonight when we go to the ramen shop across the street.” Shoving his hands into his pockets, he turned away in an attempt to hide the slight blush that formed on his face.

Eyes enlarged with disbelief, Y/N brought the pullover up to cover the astonishment expressed on her face and mumbled, “We? Are you asking me out on a date?” Gazing up at the man before her, she couldn’t help but notice the tips of his ears were turning red. He didn’t look at her when he nodded, but once the bells of her happy voice rang out, he turned and couldn’t stop himself from smiling.

/*-+-*/

*15 YEARS LATER*

“Remember I’m going to be late tonight because Todoroki is holding a study group at his house! Hurry up Harumi, I don’t wanna be late to school because of you!”

“Sorry Raiden! Bye Mom, bye Dad! Love you!”

The door slammed and all was quiet. Y/N stuck her thumbs through the torn holes in the sleeves and started clearing the table when she heard the door of the bedroom shut. Picking up a cup of leftover orange juice, she brought it to her lips when two arms snaked around her waist and she felt a kiss on the back of her head.

“You still have that? It’s worn all to hell. Let me get you a new one.”

Y/N glanced at him mid sip. Smiling into the cup, she finished her drink, her other hand lovingly patted her husband’s arm. Finishing her drink, she wiped her mouth on the sleeve. “A new one? But this is my favorite! I plan on wearing it until it completely falls apart!”

Rolling his eyes, Bakugou peppered Y/N’s face with kisses, ignoring squeals of laughter and the playful pushes against his chest. “Move so I can help you with the dishes before we head to work.”

/*-+-*/

Filing paperwork was the best way to wind down after a long day of apprehending villains. Huddled over her desk Y/N was writing up the last report of the day when the door to her office swung open and her sweaty husband swaggered inside. She narrowed her eyes at his appearance.. Was he wearing a new pullover?

“Just got done going for a run. You ready to go home yet?” Bakugou removed the hoodie, a hint of his waning abs peeking from under his shirt. “Tch. Put those eyes back in your sockets, woman.” Holding out his hand to a giggling Y/N, he pulled her away from the desk and against him for a quick hug before leaving hand-in-hand from the agency.

A sudden breeze blew against the two, causing Y/N to rub her arms. In a side glance, she saw her husband putting on the sweater.

"Sharing is caring, now give me the sweatshirt!"

“Hell no! You chose to not bring your old piece of shit hoodie even though I said it was going to be cold tonight. Suffer the consequences, ya brat.”

“Please sweetheart? I know I should have listened this morning, and you’re right of course. I’m just so cold. You don’t want me to get sick, do you?” Her sugar sweet words twisted around his heart as she gently wrapped her arms around him and tilted her head up and batted her eyes in a most heartfelt manner. Bakugou glared at his wife and paused before grunted his displeasure. With a sigh and an eye roll it was all over. The man scoffed and shook out of the sweatshirt and slipped it over Y/N, pulling the hood over her head.

Face flushed red, the towering blonde pillar looked anywhere but at her. “Dammit woman, why do you do this to me? Next time listen to me and don’t be so stubborn. You’re lucky I love you.”

Enveloped in the warm hug scented of woodsy caramel, she pulled the oversized sleeves over her hands and cupped the tall hero’s cheeks and turned him to face her, “I am the luckiest girl in the world, aren’t I? Thank you for my new hoodie. I love you.”

Lowly growling at the woman before him, Bakugou cocked a brow before breaking out into a smile, shaking his head. “You’re ridiculous, woman, tricking me like that. I love you too. Now let’s get home and have some quiet time before those brats get home.” Putting his arm around her shoulders, he pulled her against him and felt Y/N’s arms wrap around him. He smiled against her hooded head as she giggled and together they walked, their steps in sync toward home.

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part Eighteen

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: a short update while i try to find my writing rhythm again :))

***

Nesta hasn’t danced in over ten years—yet her body still remembers how to move fluidly and create shapes as if she never stopped. Pole dancing is different, of course: most of it takes place in the air, and she doesn’t have the right muscles developed to support her weight that well. Damn, she should really ask Cassian for help if she wants to keep doing this.

Still, Emerie and Gwyn are gaping by the time Nesta lands on the floor after trying out a basic spin.

She cracks her neck. “What?” she says at their stares.

“Where did you learn to do that?” Emerie demands.

She shrugs indifferently. “Eight years of ballet. Push-up challenges with Cassian.”

The instructor, an overly energetic Australian woman, comes up just then and claps Nesta on the shoulder, making her jump. “That was beautiful,” she praises. “Really, you have the balance of a cat. What’s your name again?”

Nesta introduces herself obediently, and Gwyn and Emerie follow.

The instructor nods. “In that case, Nesta, you keep doing what you’re doing. Don’t worry about your upper body strength yet, it’ll come around with time. You, the redhead,” she addresses Gwyn.

Gwyn straightens.

“I’ve never seen someone with your height and grace at the same time,” the instructor says. Gwyn beams with pride. “Unfortunately,” she continues, “I’ve also never seen someone so prone to hurting themselves on the pole.” Gwyn hangs her head.

“And the pretty girl.” She turns to Emerie last, who looks like she already knows what she’s about to hear. “Well, we can’t all be naturals.” The instructor grins broadly. “Feel free to keep using the poles after class is over.” She nods to their group and moves on to some other students.

Emerie sticks her tongue out and groans. “My tights keep giving me wedgies on the pole.”

“This was your idea,” Nesta reminds her as she reaches for her water bottle.

“Yet you’re the only one reaping the benefits,” Gwyn grumbles. “You never told us you had the body of a dancer and the balance of a gazelle.”

“Cat,” Emerie corrects.

“Guys,” Nesta says firmly. “This class is important for all of us. We won’t look this good,” she gestures to all their bodies, “forever. Gwyn is already pushing thirty.”

Gwyn’s jaw drops. “I’m turning twenty-seven, not getting menopause.”

“Same thing,” Emerie mutters. Gwyn shoves her hard and goes to pack her gym bag, leaving Emerie dramatically rubbing her shoulder. Nesta follows after Gwyn while the rest of the class begins gathering their things, too.

“How’re you feeling?” she mutters lowly as Gwyn packs. They haven’t brought up the conversation in Gwyn’s car since it took place, but Gwyn seems returned to her usual self now, if not even sunnier.

Gwyn’s lips twitch up as she glances sidelong at Nesta. “Perfect,” she says smoothly. “I can’t even remember what I was so upset about.”

Nesta is glad, even though she knows the nightmare isn’t gone. Knows that anytime from the next hour to the next year, it could reappear in full force and drag Gwyn down again. But hopefully it won’t hit as hard as it did before, now that Gwyn has her.

After class, they all pile up in Emerie’s car, a handed-down hunk of metal which Emerie insists on calling “vintage”. Gwyn sticks her head between the driver and passenger seat from the back and wrinkles her nose. “Get me home quick, it smells like a dead banana back here.”

“Oh, is that where I left it?” Emerie starts to turn around, but Nesta stops her with a hand on her shoulder. “I need a shower and a nap,” she pleads. “Let’s go.”

Emerie begrudgingly assents, sticking the key in the ignition and turning it. Nothing happens.

Frowning, she turns it again, but the engine doesn’t so much as choke. She slaps the dashboard like it’ll bring her car to life.

“Amazing,” Nesta mutters.

***

Cassian has imagined more times than he’d like to admit what it would be like when Nesta finally introduced him to her friends, but he never imagined this.

Three tired and hungry girls sit in his truck, alternating between arguing and laughing with each other. He can’t keep up with all of their personalities at once, so he just hones in on Nesta while he drives. Nesta, who Cassian has never seen so carefree or witty with people other than himself before. It both fascinates him and freaks him out, the realization that there’s so much to Nesta he doesn’t know yet. It gives him all the more excuse to spend the next several years getting to know her.

“Don’t tell me what to do with my car,” the dark-haired girl, Emerie, is snapping from the backseat. “Mr. Madani,” she abruptly says, sticking her head forward to look him in the face. Cassian nearly jumps. “Do you know how to change a car battery?”

Nesta shoves Emerie’s face back through the gap between seats from where she sits in the front. “You don’t need a battery change, you need a lifestyle change,” she says. “And don’t call my boyfriend by his last name, he’s not a middle-aged dad.”

Cassian bites back a laugh at that.

“Oh, but if I’m twenty-seven, I’m on the brink of menopause,” Gwyneth speaks up.

“Really?” Cassian says, meeting her eyes in the rearview mirror for the first time all drive. “You’re the same age as me?”

He remembers what Nesta told him about Gwyn’s discomfort around men, so he tries to keep his tone casual, distant. If he scares Nesta’s friend away, he’ll never forgive himself.

Gwyn looks stunned to be directly addressed by him, seeming to lose all her sass. “Uh...my birthday’s in a few days,” she says, suddenly awkward.

“That’s right,” Emerie interjects eagerly. “We’re having a rager.”

“We’re having a sleepover,” Nesta corrects. She throws Cassian an exasperated look. “Drive faster, will you? I can’t share a car with these girls any longer.”

“Don’t be fucking rude.” Gwyn flicks a hair tie at Nesta, making her cry out.

Cassian does not understand this dynamic at all, so he shuts up and does as he’s told.

After Gwyn and Emerie have been safely dropped off, Cassian throws his keys into the bowl at the cabin entrance and tosses off his shoes. “I think I finally know what it’s like to be you,” he tells Nesta as they meet the warmth of the house.

“What do you mean?” She unzips her windbreaker, revealing the form-fitting athleticwear beneath. God, he hasn’t even gotten a chance to look at her since he picked her up.

He redirects his eyes to her face. “You know,” he says. “On the outside looking in. I feel drained.”

Her lips quirk up as she hangs up her jacket. “That scared of a couple of girls, huh?”

“They’re your friends. I don’t know what else I expected.” He follows Nesta deeper into the living room, kicking at the ground. “So…” he trails casually. “How was class?”

Nesta responds by rolling her eyes. “I was wondering how long you’d take to crack.”

“What do you mean?” he says, indignant.

“I mean…” She steps up to him and takes his hands, dragging them up her waist to settle on the bare skin beneath her black crop top. “You haven’t said a word about pole-dancing since I told you I was starting it. One would almost think it didn’t affect you at all, and yet,” she tilts her head, “I get the feeling you haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. Especially at night, when you’re alone.”

Cassian’s breath goes thin. She knows him too well.

“Cunning witch,” he breathes. Nesta’s smile is slow and winning, which he takes as invitation to slip his hands around her back and pull her in. Her chest is pressed flush against his.

She stares at his mouth, the place she always stares when her mind is five steps ahead of reality. Like she’s already imagining how he’ll take her. “Dreaming about a private performance, are you?”

“Hopefully not right now,” a low voice says from above them.

Nesta jumps, spinning around in Cassian’s arms, but Cassian just closes his eyes and sighs. He opens them to find Azriel sitting in the reading nook that overlooks the living room, various work reports scattered about him.

“Have you been there this whole time?” Nesta demands.

“Unfortunately,” Azriel says at the same time Cassian grumbles, “Of course he has.” Remaining unnoticed is all his brother is good for.

Nesta sighs and rubs her eyes, the mood effectively killed. “I need a break.”

Cassian considers going up to Az and pushing him over the second floor railing as Nesta wiggles out of his arms and heads for the stairs. “And a back massage,” she calls over her shoulder.

“I’ll be right there,” Cassian tells her. But he waits to hear their bedroom door click shut before he also goes upstairs, not towards Nesta but to the reading nook.

“Hey, bro?” He tries to sound lighthearted as he approaches Az. “Do you mind not cockblocking me in my own house?”

Az doesn’t look up from the report he’s reading, flipping a page. “It’s rude to be horny in public spaces.”

“My house is not a public space,” Cassian growls, struggling to keep his temper. “Before you moved in, it was a very, very private space.” For him and Nesta alone, he doesn’t add.

Azriel finally looks up, question in his eyes. “So what?” he says. “You want me to leave?”

Never, is the automatic assurance that nearly comes out of Cassian’s mouth. Of course he’d never want his brother gone, especially when he’s clearly going through… something. But he bites down on the word and takes a seat in the chair across from Az. “I want to know how long you’re planning on staying. For real. You can run from your problems as much as you want, but that doesn’t mean I can provide you with a hiding place forever.”

“Wow.” Azriel’s eyes widen in mock-disbelief and he clasps a hand to his chest. “So cold, brother. I think you caught some of your girlfriend’s iciness.”

Cassian narrows his eyes seriously at Az. “Or maybe I’m being the only adult here.” Cassian now has responsibilities to a person who isn’t part of his traditional inner circle. A person he can see himself making long-term plans with, a person he plans on keeping around. It changes the course of his future in a way that the rest of his family probably haven’t realized yet.

Though maybe Azriel does realize it, because he looks away and murmurs, “No need to rub it in.”

For the thousandth time that month, Cassian wonders what caused Azriel to run away from Velaris. It’s a secret Az refuses to share with even him.

“I’m trying,” Azriel says. His words are slow, unsure. “I’m trying to create space between me and that city, but I’m going to need more time. I can’t tell you how long it’ll take until I can go back. But if you can’t keep me here, I’ll find someplace else to stay.” He shrugs. “It’s not that hard.”

Cassian exhales, feeling sympathy twist deep in his chest for his best friend—and he doesn’t even know what the sympathy is for. “Then take your time,” he says sincerely. “Stay here forever if you want. We can Photoshop you into all our pictures. But don’t think I’m gonna make it easy on you,” he warns.

“You already don’t make it easy on me,” Az mutters. “I can hear you and Nesta fucking all the time.”

“First, don’t ever talk about Nesta and fucking in the same sentence ever again.”

Az blinks in surprise, likely remembering the way they would talk about their hookups before Nesta came into the picture. “Damn, she’s got you bad.”

“Second,” Cassian continues, “I will not hesitate to make you sleep outside if you get on my or Nesta’s nerves.”

“With that attitude, I’ll be out of here by next week,” Az snorts. He crosses his feet and picks up his report again, clearly done with this conversation.

Seeing no hope in rubbing the point in further, Cassian leaves Azriel to his work.

***

Nesta is stripped down to her underwear and getting ready to shower when she notices a missed call from Elain on her phone.

She hesitates at her sister’s name on the screen, wondering what could possibly have encouraged Elain to call while Nesta was at dance class. What happened to the times that Nesta could go weeks without a single person checking up on her?

Looking toward the bedroom door as if Cassian will come in and save her from having to call Elain back, she waits a solid minute before giving up.

Elain picks up on the first ring. “I’m surprised you called back,” she greets.

“I’m full of surprises these days.” Nesta settles onto the bed. “What did you want?” She doubts Elain called just for a check-in, not with the stagnant bitterness that’s been between them lately.

“To have a normal conversation with my sister for once.”

Nesta tries not to roll her eyes all the way back into her head, even though no one is around to see her. “Go on and have it then.”

“I heard from Rhys that Azriel moved into Cassian’s place,” Elain says in her honey-sweet voice. “I’ve been meaning to ask how that’s going for you.”

Nesta’s brow furrows at that voice, the one that Elain uses whenever she wants to give her best first impression—or wants to pry something out of someone. “It’s going fine,” she says flatly. “Az and I get along great.”

That’s a bit of an exaggeration, but…

“You’re calling him Az now?” Nesta can hear the way Elain tries to tamp down on her curiosity, but she’s never been as good at affecting apathy as Nesta is.

“Yeah,” she answers. “Why? Do you miss him?”

Elain nearly chokes over the line. “Why—why would you say that?”

“I thought you guys were friendly,” Nesta says, leaning back into the pillows. “Doesn’t everyone miss him back in Velaris?”

“Oh.” The relief in Elain’s voice is palpable, piquing Nesta’s curiosity. “Yeah, we miss him.” She clears her throat. “He left without telling anybody.”

Nesta fiddles with the band of her panties. “You don’t know why he left either?”

Elain is silent for several moments. “No.” Her answer is quiet, truthful. “I don’t know.” She adds, “Keep an eye on him, will you? I would do it myself, but I’ve been iced out.”

Nesta finds this very suspicious. She can’t bring herself to be interested enough to keep snooping, however, not as the door creaks open and Cassian enters the room. “Will do,” she promises Elain, and makes a quick goodbye. When she hangs up, Cassian asks, “Who was it?”

“Elain.” Nesta frowns at her phone. She wonders if someone like Cassian would be better at reading between the lines of the strange conversation she just had. Maybe he could put his finger on the mysterious relationship between her sister and his brother. But since there are no creeks nearby for Azriel to be shoved into, and it isn’t any of Nesta’s business either way, she decides to give him and Elain time to sort their own shit out.

“What did she want?”

Nesta refocuses on Cassian, who leans against the door appreciating her half-naked form stretched out before him. Without words, she holds her arms open.

He shoves off the door and approaches her on the bed, letting her envelop him into a hug. It isn’t the warmest or most comforting hug, and her arms are stiff as stone, but he melts into her either way. There’s a weariness in his broad shoulders that spikes concern in her.

When Cassian pulls away, she traps his face in her hands and scans it closely for answers. “What’s wrong with you?” she asks. “You fell asleep early during the last two movies we watched and you’re half-asleep now.”

“What are you talking about?” He throws his signature smile her way, but it lacks alertness. “Do I look like there’s anything wrong with me?”

“You tell me.” Nesta shifts so she can slide her hand over the smooth plane of his back, resting her palm on the warm spot between his shoulder blades. It’s her best imitation of a soothing gesture, and it makes Cassian’s lips quirk up lightly.

He hangs his head and sighs. “Is it possible to have growing pains at my age?”

Nesta is confused. “Like, physically?”

“No,” he says. “Just… growing up.”

“I don’t think we ever stop growing up,” she answers honestly. Maybe she’s biased because a part of her is still trapped in that childlike state, and she has more growing to do than most people. “I think it hurts a little every time we have to shift and become someone older. What’s hurting you now?”

Her hand slides up to the nape of Cassian’s neck, gently massaging the muscles there. His head droops even more under her touch. “I can’t believe you’re asking me that when I’m supposed to be taking care of you,” he huffs. But he doesn’t look very inclined to argue.

Nesta squeezes the back of his neck. “I can be the stable one, too, you know. I can take care of you.” She should’ve defeated this misconception sooner.

“That’s not what I meant,” Cassian says, shaking his head. “I meant that I promised you a massage.”

Oh. She nearly forgot about that. “If you tell me what growing pains you’re having, I’ll let you join me in the shower,” she promises. “You can do whatever you want there.”

He looks up at that, dragging his gaze over her mostly-bare figure, and Nesta knows she’s won. “Tell me,” she demands one final time.

Cassian inspects her face, likely deciding how much he should reveal or not. “I’ve been thinking about the future,” he finally says. “It was never something I cared much about before, but now it keeps me up at night.”

Nesta is slow to realize—he’s talking about their future. “You really never thought about the future before?” she asks. At one point in time, Nesta had her life planned out to the age of forty. Her plans hadn’t included this, though.

Cassian shakes his head. “There was nothing for me to think about.”

She runs soothing fingers across his scalp, her heart rate unexpectedly picking up a beat. “And what do you think about now?”

Hazel eyes meet hers with wariness. “Stupid stuff,” he says. “Cars, taxes, insurance.”

At the look on her face, he pulls away from the hand that’s gone still on his neck. “Okay, let’s get you in the shower before I scare you away for good.”

Nesta feels herself being scooped into Cassian’s arms, but she doesn’t quite register it. It’s not until they’re in the bathroom that she remembers words. “I’m not scared,” she says from the cradle of his arms. “I was just surprised.”

Regaining her senses, she squirms until Cassian puts her down on the floor. She straightens. “I’ve never... pondered on the small things like that.”

Except they aren’t really small or stupid, are they? They’re big, inevitable facets of sharing a life with someone. She clears her throat. “The way we live now is already so nice. I guess I forgot things won’t be like this forever.”

Which isn’t the most assuring thing to say from the way Cassian’s face becomes carefully still. But in a blink he’s smiling again, his hands going to unclip her bra. “Don’t worry yourself with that shit,” he chuckles. “I was only dreaming.”

Guilt turns Nesta’s stomach into sludge. She made Cassian share what was weighing on him only for her to brush it off. She wants to talk through it with him until he’s giving her a real smile, but she doesn’t know where to start or what to say. So she lets her bra drop to the floor and steps close to wrap her arms around him.

His breath hitches against her ear, and one of his broad hands comes up to rest on her bare back. “Two hugs in one day?” he says, his amusement covering up some deeper emotion. “I’m either doing something right or doing something very wrong.”

“No. I’m just feeling appreciative.” Her hand returns to that space between his shoulder blades, the spot that seems to disarm him, and pats him there. She gives herself a solid moment to luxuriate in the warmth and size and hard strength of him before saying, “Get undressed, will you?”

One of his hands squeezes her butt. “You need to get off me first.”

She hums in agreement but doesn’t move—hoping he can feel everything she doesn’t know how to tell him.

***

a/n: i bought my eid dress and it’s so pretty yall 🥺

taglist: @hellasblessed @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes

[crown-anon]

@hearts1ck my beloved

November 1st

CW: explicit; more CWs under the cut

format: one-shot

people: GeorgeNotFound

pronouns: he/him; reader has male anatomy; more specifics under the cut

edited 14 March 2021

anonymous asked

consider. okay. CONSIDER. consider masochist george. okay?? okay. okay LISTEN.

I think I have a problem with gimmicks also. because. because. ever since strawberry milk george, I. I have not stopped thinking about strawberry flavored lube. because! listen okay hear me out.

(this is absolutely 110% a response to discovering that you share a birthday with him. what of it?)

I know everyone likes pillow princess george and. that's okay. that's FINE. these are not mutually exclusive.

george looking up at you with The LookTM wearing some pink strawberry milk lingerie. not even lingerie really! just something cute like that

& him being like. "I know you love me 👉👈 but I need you to fuck me like you don't"

so I was. thinking. that brat george is the exact kind of person to say (playfully & consensually) "but I don't wanna give you head, I just wanna fuck >:(" after you've got him worked up, maybe from teasing him throughout the day, or edging him a little. but you still need some type of lube. so you go to apply the first bottle you see and he's pink when he asks you "😳 is that ... strawberry ... ?" and you're confused like ??? bro you just asked me to fuck you into next week why're you interested in the flavored lube

but. but listen. he would get so enthusiastic about it. at first it's just "maybe I can stand to eat them out just a little bit before ..." and then after you come the first time it devolves really, really quickly into the need to just. take care of you. and it stretches on until you've come three or four times, and you're still shaking, and he's just. completely gone in subspace

hmm ... george climbing up onto your lap when he's done with you, going in to give you a kiss, and he tastes like strawberry. and he ends up moaning right into your mouth because he's been so horny but so? understimulated?? that he outright jumps as soon as his dick grazes your thigh. it would only take a couple stuttery grinds before he's finishing on both of your stomachs

and he's just so cute when comes, or when he bites down on your shoulder to keep himself quiet. and it's your birthdays. so, you decide you'll give him a reason to cry. and he'll finally get put in his place! it's a win-win for both of you!!

istg every time I send you an ask I discover something new about myself. you. you have made a dreamteam simp out of me. I am but a shell of the man I once was. I think I should thank you? [👑]

hearts1ck

i say this nearly every time you send stuff in but...... by god you own my soul. all of it. this – i – first of all, the implications of masochist george losing his fucking mind when you’re rough with him? guhhhfjklgjgf. and ,..d,,f,,, ,, ,, george in pink lingerie. i. i . a... pink satin slip maybe or .... ohghfd; oh my god those. that cat panty/bra set. im ascending im losing my brain as i type this i cannot –

okay im back on earth. he’d get into that rhythm and settle like liquid while he gets to work on you, and his subspace face is so self-satisfied and nearly smug so he’s just having the time of his life,,, and he makes such a loud noise when his dick twitches against your thigh and maybe... JUST MAYBE he whimpers extra watery when you drag his hips to grind against where you’re wet and dripping/your spent cock as if he’s the one who’d get overstimulated by it. when he finally leans away, eyelids heavy, you gently fit your hand over his jaw and ask, “did you even ask? it’s one thing to come without permission, but not even caring to ask? georgie, i might just be offended,” and he whines “green”s against your neck before you even check-in

and because u made it abt both of our birthdays ,,,, spanks for each year we’ve been alive methinks ??? and then the scratch down his ass gets him hard again and he’s so embarrassed by it, ,,, , ,, ,, ,, ,, ,

also thank god you’ve joined the george boat. i’m so proud of myself for hopefully being part of the reason you got dragged over here HJFKDHSKD

#👑 anon #(my beloved) #keep #anon thoughts: george #redsick #SHAWTY WANT THE WHOLE CREW SHAWTY BAD

as soon as you said birthday spanks I decided I had to write more about this. and I was going to leave more snippets in your askbox like the fucking gremlin creature I am, but then my thoughts started. actually having structure? and then I started writing it. and I tried to do homework and write on study breaks only but. I just kept coming back to this. this is the polar opposite of writer's block. I think I'm cursed or something. so here I am rushing to finish this so that I may rest in peace!!

yes I've been writing nonstop since I sent you that ask. what of it. what the fuck of it.

when I said I discover something new about myself every time we interact, I. I'm serious. I think I might be insane or something. I'm way too sadistic. you'll see. what the fuck is this? what the fuck did I just write??

this would have done so much critical psychic damage if I had posted it on November 1st in real life, but mental illness says I can't let my horny thoughts rattle around in my brain for that long. so!! it's you guys's problem now xoxoxo

I'm not fucking proofreading this. love you though 💗

I did end up proofreading actually. oops! looks like posting at 23:00 isn't always a good idea.

November 1st

CW: explicit, anal (kind of vague), bondage (collar + leash), corruption, domspace (I think??), edging, handjob, humiliation, masochism, oral, praise, sadism, spanking, subspace, swearing. I call George a whore and a slut at least once. and also, George calls yellow at one point. this one kind of surprised me so just. Be Careful. I cannot believe I wrote this. I don't know where this came from.

format: one-shot

people: GeorgeNotFound

pronouns: he/him; I use the word "sir;" reader has male anatomy; I use the words "cock," "dick," and "head;" reader can ejaculate

—

dawn shines through drawn curtains, illuminating the tile floor and your robed figure reflecting off it. batter sizzles in the skillet as you flip the last pancake over. this side looks golden brown, like honeycomb or caramelized sugar. that delicious, freshly-baked fragrance mingles with scented candles. it's perfect, you smile. he's going to love it.

you lift the pancake with a spatula, stacking it on top of the others on his plate. you bring it to his seat at the table, along with the butter, the syrup, the honey, the jam…and you go to pour him a drink.

"hey baby," you greet warmly to the sleepyhead rubbing his eyes in the entryway, still clinging to a pillow. his hair's a mess, only wearing socks and a sweatshirt that reaches down past his thighs. you reckon he'd only just crawled out of bed.

"morning…" he yawns, stumbling past you to take his seat.

"milk?" you ask, he only nods. "did you sleep okay?"

he hums affirmatively. "I…can we…"

one track mind, you joke inwardly. but you don't blame him. "of course," you open the fridge.

you hear him pause. "…is it too early for that?"

"no, no!" you give him a lighthearted laugh. "I kind of expected it, to be honest…I want it, too."

he's silent under the noise of you rummaging through the fridge. "I—"

"sorry—it looks like all we have is strawberry milk. is that alright?"

"yeah…yeah, that's alright. I…actually…wanted to try something new." you shut the fridge, he's fidgeting in his seat.

"hit me with it," your expression is gentle. you pass his cup off to him, but he holds his hand over yours a little too long, looking up at you.

"fuck me like you hate me."

you don't know if it's hearing him swear, or the way he said it so calmly, or how he closed his eyes and swallowed hard before his tone could dip down into something lower. but like a match in an torrent of gasoline, suddenly you're burning up.

you only realize you're staring when he bites his lip and looks down. you start to say something, but the words don't form.

he laughs nonthreateningly, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. "is that a yes?"

you laugh with him. "I…yes, absolutely yes." you turn back around to make your own stack of pancakes. "you should eat first, though."

"what?" he teases. "will I need the energy?"

you smile. "yeah. I think you will." you can practically feel him open his mouth in protest, but he stays silent after that.

and it stays mostly silent while you cook your pancakes. you hear the clinking of his fork on his plate, but it isn't very disruptive. it sounds like he's hurrying to finish his food.

when you go back to the table with your own platter, he's already done eating. he's red down to his neck, fidgeting with the hem of his sweatshirt, looking at you expectantly. you spot a pair of tassels peeking out from under it, just below his hip bones. is that…

he pulls the hem up just a bit, holding your gaze. he smiles, apparently satisfied watching your face heat up.

"I—you should go…go get ready," you manage. he gets up before you even finish your sentence, only stopping to give you a quick kiss on the cheek.

except it isn't quick, when he slides his hand down to rest firmly on your collar, and leans in to trail kisses down your neck. "a-and leave that on," you stutter.

he pauses, just under your jaw. "leave what on?" he murmurs.

your breath catches, you shut your eyes. "whatever the fuck it is you're wearing under there."

he's hardly grazing your skin, but you can feel how hot he is next to you. it takes all of your willpower not to shiver.

he pulls back quickly, only his hand lingering. "I don't know what you're talking about." and just like that, he disappears into your bedroom.

you reach up a hand tentatively to your collar, hot to the touch. I'm in way too deep, you decide, and force yourself to take a bite of your food despite your nerves.

—

"that," you hiss. "that fucking outfit. that."

"oh, this?" he bites his lip, hooking his thumb in the keyhole. "this's just what I went to bed in last night."

"fuck you. we both know that isn't true."

he tugs gently on his top, pulling it a little to the side. "what's the big deal? can't I wear something special for my birthday?"

"it's special, all right," and you leave it at that, opting instead to slot between his legs where he sits waiting on the edge of the bed. you bring up a hand to cup his jaw, brushing your thumb across his cheek. you'll never get enough of the way he looks at you, like you're intoxicating.

…? you frown.

"is something…missing?" he perks up instantly at "missing."

"what…?" he chooses his words carefully.

"the collar—your collar. where is it?" you turn away to start going through your bedside table, but the way his lips quirk up into a sly smile isn't lost on you.

that's lube…that's a vibrator…where the fuck is it…? "w-what collar?" he stumbles over his words.

your mind jumps to say, the collar that came with that outfit, or I know you know what I'm talking about, but you won't give him the satisfaction. you decide to speak a little darker, only a firm "George." you hear him swallow.

"w-well," his voice is shaky, "you only told me to leave on whatever I was wearing under my shirt. and…I wasn't wearing that collar at breakfast…s-so technically…"

you stop looking immediately. you turn to take him in, legs crossed, stance confident, but expression showing uncertainty. you can see the regret on his face. "get up." he takes a shallow breath. "get up."

"I'm—"

"don't I'm sorry me," you snap. "you look for your fucking collar on your own."

he slips off the bed, looking ashamed, but starts digging through the drawer all the same. "I really am sorry," he murmurs. you take his place sitting on the bed. he finds what he's looking for rather quickly: a simple white leather collar with a bell, and a leash. he hands them off to you shyly. "um, here…"

"good boy," you praise. "kneel."

he shuts his eyes and does as he's told. you can see the bliss wash over his face just at being ordered around. his lips part a little as he lets out a heavy breath. if only I knew what this would do to him, you muse, I'd have done this ages ago.

you fasten the collar, revelling in how he shivers at the gentle sensation of cold leather hanging around his neck. you leave it a little bit loose, but still comfortable, and hook the leash in its place. he sits obediently still on his knees, looking deep in thought.

"Oh, I know what I'm gonna do to you," you bait. "how old are you today?"

"mmm. twenty-five." he looks down.

you smile, holding tight onto the leash. "I'm gonna edge you. twenty-five times."

he flinches away immediately, yet hums in pleasant surprise when the leash snaps taught. the bell jingles stiffly. "no way. that's way too much."

"I think you should've thought about that before you wore that to breakfast," you decide, tugging a little. he's caught off-guard and stumbles forward, stopping himself by leaving a clumsy pair of kisses on the inside of your thigh. the metal and leather feel refreshingly cool against your feverish skin. "we've got all day, baby."

you expect to hear some kind of protest, you're crazy. or a playful taunt, I'm better off doing this by myself. but he knits his brows and openly moans at the thought. "all day…" he repeats.

he looks up at you, almost pleading, and you can hear the resignation in his voice when he whispers "alright."

"get up here," you command. "on top of me." as he climbs up into your lap, a little too eagerly, you add, "and take your dick out."

you shrug your robe off your shoulders while he's working on his panties, and without thinking, you ask, "color?"

he stops, leaving his head poking cutely over the waistband. he looks up at you again. "…what?"

"um…color," you explain. "like, how are you doing? is this okay? I don't actually want to hurt you. uhhh…green means good, yellow means slow down, and red means stop."

he stifles a laugh. "you're such a nerd. I'm okay."

"alright." you blush a little. "we can stop whenever you need to. this is for you…" you think of something horribly unsexy to say. "…birthday boy."

now he's really laughing, with his whole body. you think the way it makes his collar jingle is cute. "oh my god. shut up. just shut up," his expression turns serious, and he drops to a whisper, "and fuck me."

that got you hot again. you pull him by the leash into a kiss, you bite his lip, you eat him up. and you grab the both of you together with your other hand, you moan in tandem. you can feel how you took him by surprise in the way he twitches under your thumb, the way he leans into you with his whole body. you part from the kiss and he leans back on his heels, panting hard, holding on to your shoulders for support. you can feel him shaking a little.

when you move your hand all the way up the first time, you squeeze both of your heads gently, and he practically falls into you. muffled in the crook of your neck, he begs, "god, do that again."

so you do. again. and again. what was a string of stuttered breaths turns into a single broken moan as you jerk the both of you off. when you think you're getting close, you let go of yourself to focus all your attention on him.

"fuck, sir," he whines—hahaha, that sir made your cock leak a little. he shut his eyes tight. "I-I-I think—I think I'm—"

just like that, you stop, and he goes slack, practically laying on you. but he doesn't grind back, or even move to touch himself. that won't last very long.

you let him come back down, knowing edging takes a lot out of you; maybe even more so than actually coming does. slowly but surely, his breathing steadies. you rub between his shoulderblades affectionately, still trying to ground yourself, too.

once you've found your voice again, you question, "are you gonna count for me?"

he makes a sound against your skin, somewhere between excitement and fear. "…o-one." you revel in how fucked-out he sounds already.

"one what?" you prod.

he seems at a loss, like he's forgotten himself, what he said. after a minute or two of pondering, he catches on. "…sir."

it's your turn to moan. your dick jumps at the honorific, still mostly untouched against your stomach. "good boy." and you dive back in. twenty-four to go.

—

it's noon. you're working on nineteen. and your partner's getting much more…expressive. he's started biting his hand to keep himself quiet, but he's still…

"I-I—oh fuck, I'm—fuck, I-I'm—I'm—" he whimpers through his teeth. and he yelps, whole body shaking, bell jingling incessantly, when he comes all over your hand and stomach.

you take your hand off him immediately, and this time he does try to reach down, ride through it, but you grab both his wrists to stop him. he grinds down uselessly against your thigh and your dick. although you're still hard, and only a hairline trigger away from coming yourself, it doesn't stop you from keeping this brat in line. you only bite your lip and close your eyes.

he leans his forehead against yours, moving in to give you a kiss, but you push him away.

"did you never learn how to fucking count?" you growl.

he winces. "I-I-I-I'm…I'm sorry—"

you scowl at your hand, covered in come. "here, slut," you raise it up to his lips. "clean this off for me."

he tears up a little, but takes your fingers into his mouth all the same. pretty quickly, though, he spits them back out.

"it doesn't taste good…" he complains.

"oh? oh, it doesn't?" you mock. "but it felt good, when you came without my permission, like a cheap fucking whore."

a couple of tears spill over, roll down his cheeks, yet he says nothing, only moving back in to lap his come off your hand. you can see it in his expression that he's not very happy about it, but he doesn't protest further.

"is this good enough, sir?" he asks, when it seems that he's gotten it all. it looks clean enough, you agree. you grab him by the chin, hooking your thumb in his mouth. you don't even have to tell him to suck.

"you come without my approval again, and it's over. you can go back to playing minecraft—or what-the-fuck-ever—with your friends for your birthday. do you want to sleep on the couch, Georgie?"

if he wasn't crying before, he's definitely crying now. he doesn't shake his head, but he circles your fingertip with his tongue enthusiastically, as if to say, I'll be good, I'll be good this time, looking up at you doe-eyed.

"bend over for me," you demand. "across my lap."

he does so immediately. he slips a little bit while he's changing positions, you hear the bell ring, and he scrambles to correct himself. he settles with his ankles crossed and his head in his hands, propping himself up on his elbows. you feel a little bad, you admit, but you won't budge; he has a safeword, you trust that he'll use it.

"let's try that again," your tone softens. "I want you to count for me, okay?"

he nods.

you pull his panties to the side, pause briefly, and bring down your hand with a satisfying smack.

"ohhhhhh—" he moans, jolting a little. "—holy shit, did you just spank me?"

your stomach drops, you go to rub him gently where you just hit him. "is that okay—?"

"it's hot, it's so hot, fuck," he shifts in your lap. "um, sorry…one."

seriously, something about hearing him swear awakens something in you, every time. you're fired up. you spank him again.

"mmm—two…" is he…? "three…"

you pause to massage his ass again, and to speak. "you're…you're hard again, aren't you?"

you didn't even spank him yet, but he lets out a moan. "fuck, I—I just. I want you. I want this. so, so much."

you wonder if this is actually the same George who was fidgeting with his pillow in the dining room this morning.

"you're so bad, getting turned on by something like this," you tease. he only moans in response.

"four—five—six—seven…" he chokes out. "it's starting to sting…"

you take a break, kneading the skin where your angry red handprint is starting to take shape.

"eight…nine…but god, it hurts so good…" he wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. "ten…"

at ten, you linger for a moment, holding a handful of his ass. "does it?"

"yes—yesyesyes," he buries his face in the pillow, and shivers. "fuck, eleven…twelve…"

you pull his panties down to his knees, and switch sides. he lifts his hips up, so I can reach him better, you guess. you don't miss the telltale glint of a butt plug, but you'll get to that later.

"thirteen—fourteen—fifteen—sixteen," he moans between slaps. he's gripping the pillowcase so hard his knuckles are white.

in this new position, the way he jumps with every hit makes his cock brush against yours just right. fuck, you're still hard from earlier. this time you're the one who whimpers.

"seventeen, eighteen," he pauses, breathless. you pull gently on his leash, he arches his back and moans, "n-nineteen." his bell jingles.

he grinds down, just for a moment, and the friction is delicious. you're a little dizzy, you think you might've thrust back. you both sigh at the feeling.

"…t-twenty…see? I-I can count…I'm a good boy…I'm good for you…aren't I?"

"you are," you murmur, but you aren't sure he hears you. "you're so good…"

"twenty-one—twenty-two…I-I feel like I haven't done anything right today…twenty-three…"

"…George…?" you hear a muffled sob.

"twenty-four…" he mumbles.

"George?" you start to get concerned. he just keeps crying. "hey…" you whisper. you gently prompt him to turn him over; the pillow's a little wet. you pull the panties off all the way, and get him out of the bra, which had a little stray come on it. you help him sit up in your lap, and pull him into a hug.

"am I really just a whore…?" he asks brokenly.

"you've been so good for me, baby. you've done everything I've asked." you wipe his tears away with your thumb. "are you okay?"

"but I—" he coughs. "—I came too soon, I came without your permission…"

you kiss his hair, and hold him to your chest. "you've been so patient. I'm proud of you."

he finally wraps his arms around you. "I-I'm sorry."

"nonsense," you reassure. "your comfort takes priority. are you okay? color?"

"I…" he searches for the words. "I dunno. yellow? I…that hurt, I think. being…degraded?"

you comb through his hair with your fingers. "I understand. thank you for telling me. I love you."

—

you stay like that for a minute. you grab him a snack and a drink, but for the most part, you just enjoy each other's company, tangled-up together. you don't bother putting your clothes back on.

it's later in the evening. you're straddling him, peppering his shoulders with kisses, and he's giggling underneath you. he turns over to give you a short and sweet kiss.

"baby?" he says, looking expectantly.

"what is it?" you sit back on your heels.

he hesitates. "…I wanna keep going. from earlier."

you're serious again. "are you sure you're okay?" you grab his hand, bringing it up to kiss his fingertips. "I don't want to hurt you."

"I'm alright," he assures. "I remember you promising me an all-day thing, though."

you blush, a little surprised by his forwardness. "of course. I think…I…" you laugh. "I wanna fuck you."

"yeah?" he smiles, leaning up close. "show me how much."

you hold his jaw while you kiss him, biting his bottom lip between your teeth. he tastes like the coffee and cream you made him earlier. you feel his breath hitch. he reaches up to hold your shoulders.

you pull back. "hey, blow me first."

"what? why?" he giggled.

"it's been a couple hours, I'm not hard anymore," you coax. "I thought you liked taking orders?"

he cringed. "but come tastes gross!"

you slid off him and hopped off the bed, opening the drawer. "suit yourself. you get to watch me jack off, then."

"fine by me, I think you look good when you masturbate."

"ohhh, I forget, you're too blissed-out to pay attention to how I look when you're getting fucking owned."

"I am not!"

"you are too!" he sticks his tongue out at you.

you open the lid, pouring a little on your hand, a little on your cock. it's translucent pink, seems a little fragrant. you give yourself a couple of strokes with a sigh.

he's quiet for a second, then, shyly, "um…is that…strawberry flavored…?"

you bite your lip. "I thought you weren't gonna give me head?"

"I was just curious." it's a weak lie, but you say nothing.

your eyes are shut, but you can feel him moving around a bit on the bed, you hear his bell ring a couple times. you feel a hand on your thigh, so you decide to peek. and holy shit.

your partner's made his way to the floor, on his knees between your legs, holding his leash in his mouth, his fucking mouth, what the fuck. his thumb's rubbing circles on the inside of your thigh. the half-lidded look he's giving you should be criminal.

"you—I thought you said you wouldn't…" you can't find the words. you reach out and take the leash from his mouth. you see your hand shake in front of you.

"I'm just watching…" he whispers, looking up at you, mesmerized.

you're only able to get a couple of pumps in before he's joining you, hand over yours as you get yourself off. just the extra sensation of somebody else's touch is enough to make you bite back a moan.

"fuck—!" you jolt when he licks a stripe up the underside. he mouths over the head, jerking you off on his own now. you move to grip the sheets in one hand, his leash in the other. and you come without warning. you see it end up on his hand and your stomach before you shut your eyes tight.

he's quiet while you're coming down, just helping you ride it out, giving you kisses on your thighs. when you look back down at him, he's got two of his fingertips in his mouth, licking them clean. he stands up abruptly, it startles you a little. you see his bell ring. and he grabs you by the hips and leans down to your midriff.

"…I don't think I cleaned you off all the way earlier…" he breathes, and he starts to lap up the mess of his and your come that's been on you since this afternoon.

what the fuck. why is this so hot? why is he so hot? all too soon, your spent cock twitches in interest at your lover. he cups it with a hand, smiling against your tummy. you're so sensitive it hurts. you think you mean to say something, but nothing comes out.

"hmm…?" he bites his lip. "you still want some more?" all you can do is whine. at this point, you don't know if it's in protest or invitation.

you don't get the chance to find out either, because fuck, he's really going down on you now. you don't know what the fuck he's doing with his tongue, or where his gag reflex went, but at this rate you're gonna come again.

"George—George, baby, I—slow down, I-I'm—" you plead. his leash slips out of your hand, you tip your head back.

he swallows.

—

the last thing you remember is coming harder than you ever have in your life. you think you held him by his hair. you might've fucked his mouth a little. he's never let you come in his mouth before…fuck…

it's nighttime now. he's riding your thigh, got one of his legs slotted between yours. the friction between his knee and your overstimulated cock feels embarrassingly good. you're so dizzy, all you can articulate is a loud moan. you don't sound at all like you remember. his bell keeps ringing and ringing and ringing as he grinds against you.

he leans down, one arm holding your hip, the other keeping himself propped up. he bites your shoulder, hard, hard enough to bruise. he comes on both of your stomachs.

"George," you beg. you're losing your voice.

"mmmmmmsir," he slurs. "fuck me."

"George, I…" you don't know what you're saying. the end of your sentence turns into a whimper.

"you need me to get you hard again? you need me to rile you up?" he turns to kiss your jaw, feeling around for your dick. "like this?"

"George," you sound urgent, until he squeezes right around the head, and you forget what you were saying. you're pretty fucking close to forgetting who you are entirely.

he sits up on top of you, grinning. "love the way you say my name, sir."

that name. all it takes is the way he says that fucking name and you're ready to go again. you flip the two of you over, so that you're towering over him instead. "you still didn't. fucking. ask me. if you could come."

he giggles, a little crazed. he hooks his arms around his knees, hugging them to his chest.. "so what? so what? you gonna fuck me 'till I behave?"

"yes," you reach down, "I think I will." and you pull out the butt plug he (probably forgot he) had in all day.

"fuck—" he sobs. you watch his dick bob. precome drips into a pool on his stomach. "—green—green—so fucking green."

you're still sensitive from coming twice—you're pretty sure he is too. you lean down to give him a kiss, you moan into each other's mouths. he tastes like strawberries and his and your come. it is a little gross, you admit. but he's so tight and so fucking cute that you can't bring yourself to care. you part, and there's a line of salvia connecting the two of you.

"wait—" you say, but it comes out like a growl. "roll over."

he gets on his hands and knees, reaching back and spreading himself open for you. fuck.

you fuck him like that, holding the leash tight, loving the way he arches his back into the bed. the bell on his collar jingles incessantly.

you spank him, one last time.

"th-that's twenty-f-five—oh, fuck, sir," he growls, clinging on to the blankets for dear life.

you pin one of his hands in place and reach down to touch him. he starts laughing again.

"mmmmmmay I please come, sir? I—fuck—I'm so close, soclosesoclose," his breath stutters, you can hear the breaks in his voice. he buries his face in the blankets.

I'm close, you think, but the words don't make it out. "you're so good—you're so fucking good—come for me—fuck, come for me."

—

you're a mess. there's some drying solution of come and lube on your stomach. not to mention whatever the fuck's going on with your hair. your robe is discarded haphazardly on the floor. you think you've got a hickey, but you can't remember where.

actually, you're both a mess. he's also covered in come, sweat, and lube. he's got a red ring around his neck where you pulled him by the leash a little too hard. he's just covered in bruises. he clings to your arm, still fast asleep. you both passed out pretty quickly after…whatever that was, but you got back up a couple hours later. it doesn't look like he did, though.

actually, your whole bedroom is a mess. a blanket or two ended up discarded on the floor. there's an empty bottle of edible lube somewhere around here. your kitty lingerie set, still dirty, somehow ended up hanging in the closet. the first time you woke up you were both cuddling with a butt plug that you misplaced in the heat of the moment.

you don't think you've ever seen him like that. you can't even put it into words. you've never spanked him. he's never called you sir. you've never come in his mouth. he's never…begged for you like that before. you've never been so exhausted after coming that you both just, just fainted.

you feel lightheaded, and dead tired. you know you both must have gotten back up and gone at it at least a couple more times, but it's blurry, you can't remember. all you know is your vibrator's missing, and you feel…unusually empty, like you do the morning-after getting railed a little too hard.

last night…what the fuck happened last night?

you contemplate getting up, slipping your arm out of his embrace, pulling the covers back up around him, leaving to make breakfast. you're kind of disgusting, several hours after sex without cleaning up properly. you want to get yourselves some washcloths, maybe take shower together, or run him a bath. you know he's gotta be way more sore than you are.

you catch yourself staring, lost in thought; he just looks too cute when he's very clearly roughed up, but still sleeping soundly. and with the way he wanted…the way he needed you yesterday, you don't think he would want to wake up alone.

maybe it's okay if we sleep in a little longer.

you stroke his hair and whisper, "happy birthday, baby boy."

—

edited 14 March 2021

[stephspurs]

A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction - BONUS MOMENTS

Surprise!!! I'm back with a select few bonus #bamelia moments!! I just couldn't let the love story of Ben and Amelia die, I hope you don't mind. Love Always, Steph xx

PSA: To all new readers, you don't have to read the series (link below) to understand this, however it would help so that you can understand the preconceived emotions behind the chapter!

Champions Again | di nuovo campioni

warnings; none word count; 1865 writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter. link to fic masterlist here

They had done it, again. The Chelsea boys were lifting their second team trophy for the year, they had just won the Supercup. This was Amelia’s first competition final with the Premier League giants and if she had her way, this wouldn't be last. She was beginning to get addicted to the feeling of winning, of proving to every little girl out there and every sexist male she had ever come across, that anything boys can do, girls can do better. She was letting her results speak for themselves, she was making history and there was nothing that could bring her down from the ninth cloud she was currently riding.

As proud as she was over her own achievements, she was equally as proud of her friends. Whilst she wasn’t part of their Champions League victory, she knew that this moment was just as special to the team that just loved to win. The scenes before her were ones she hoped she would never forget - the look on Jorgi’s face as he lifted his third trophy of the last few months, the crinkles beside Mason’s eyes as he grinned at the camera that was desperate to capture every moment of the evening, the tinge of pink on the apples of Ben’s cheeks as he stood with his hands on his hips while he watched Amelia give her first post-match tactical analysis to the Sky Sports reporter - proud that she was his girl. These were the moments that made Amelia forget all of the hard times, or rather made her realise that all of the hard times were worth it to see her friends, her team, her man smile.

With every great victory comes an even greater after party, and even though the Super Cup final coincided with the start of the season, the boys still believed that they deserved an afterparty to celebrate. Captain Cesar Azpilicueta had kindly offered the grounds of his Surrey home to host the bunch of rowdy boys, and their onslaught on mates and partners on the Sunday afternoon between the Super Cup final and the first match of the Premier League 21/22 season. Whilst they were under strict instruction from the higher powers of Chelsea Football Club (namely; Thomas Tuchel) to keep the drinking to a minimum and to keep themselves out of trouble, the boys were allowed to be boys for one more night.

______________________________________________________________

“Benj, what are you wearing? I don’t know if I should wear a sundress or denim shorts! Please, I need help!” I shouted out to Ben who was currently somewhere in his large house.

“Why would my outfit be able to help you with that decision” I could hear his voice getting closer, his footsteps getting louder as he began to ascend the stairs up to the main bedroom that I had slowly started to take over in the last couple months.

“An opinion is all I’m after - stop being cheeky mate” I shoot back at him as I begin to stand up from my place in front of his wardrobe. It was still his wardrobe, he hadn’t asked me to move in yet so it was still technically his even if it was half full with my clothes. As I got to my feet, I turned to see him leaning in the doorway with his arms and ankles crossed over each other. Wearing a tee shirt and some denim shorts himself with a cap covering his ungelled hair - a request from me because it was much easier for me to run my hands through if it wasn’t laden with gel...and because it gave me an excuse to push it out of his face whenever I felt like it (which was often).

“I wouldn’t mind if you stayed in that outfit to be fair, however, that would also mean we would be skipping this afterparty altogether and be spending the afternoon celebrating in an entirely different manner” He states staring at me while I’m currently standing with my hands on my hips, staring at the shorts and tank top combo I have laid out on his bed - again, his bed not ours - he hasn’t asked me to move in yet so it was technically his even if it did have the new bed sheets I purchased a couple weeks back with the matching throw cushions on it. The barely-there outfit that I was currently sporting and that had him licking his lips as he pushed himself off of the doorway to walk to me and wrap his arms around my body from behind was a bralette and a pair of his Chelsea shorts.

“Ok sorted, you’re in denim shorts so I’m going to wear mine too. Done ok move get off me I need to change or we’re going to be late” I exclaimed as I pushed him off me with my hips. A bad move? Absolutely not. I got to feel all of him against me and remind him of what he gets to come home to every evening, if he choses.

“Wow what's the rush now Mils? Why are you walking around like you’ve got ants in your pants?” He questioned as he tightened his grip on me and turned me so I was facing him, looking up into his curious baby blues.

“And don’t say nothing, I’ve picked up on all of your tells already” He further questioned as he could see the wheels begin to turn behind my eyes, desperate to come up with an excuse to mask my jitters so I wouldn’t have to tell him the truth.

“I regret ever letting you become friends with Fede, he’s spilling all of my secrets...Ok fine. I’m nervous to see Jack. I haven’t seen him since...ya’know and I haven't spoken to him since I gave him a telling off before international break and Ben I promise you I haven't thought about him once but I’m still worried that there's unresolved anger there from him and I don’t want to get into it again just when we’re getting back into the groove of us and it’ll impact your friendsh-” my rambling was cut off by his lips, which were simultaneously reminding me to breathe between my words and leaving me breathless at the same time. He always did have a way with his lips, the power they held over me was unmatched by anything.

“Calm down love, I promise it’ll be okay. Jack and I have had it out already, a long chat on international duties which may have only been prompted because Mase and Dec locked us in the kit room after our first session, sorted it all out.” Ben reassured me as he began to rub his thumbs over my cheeks and his hands held both sides of my face.

“I do know he wants to apologise to you though - so don’t be surprised if he tries to do that early on in the evening. You know just how awkward he can be so he’ll probably spring it on you before you’ve even put your bag down.”

“Oh great, I’m gonna need to do a couple shots before we leave the house - you’re good to drive right?” I said as I walked from his grasp and down the stairs to grab the bottle of vodka for some good old fashioned dutch courage.

______________________________________________________________

Ben was right about Jack, he had approached the couple only moments after they had arrived at Azpi’s house. Amelia had spotted him making his way towards them so she began to walk in a different direction to Ben, stretching their interlocked hands and letting him go as she mumbled something about needing to put her bag down. Ben really knew both of them too well. Jack gave Ben a hug hello, still in the grovelling stage of repairing their friendship.

“Hey bro, how’s it goin?” Jack spoke as he pulled away from Ben.

“Yeah bro all’s good with me, how are you? Congrats on the move again, million dollar geez you are, aren’t ya? Don’t forget me when you're mingling with Messi in a couple years” Ben joked back with the boy who has been literally a brother to him for the last few years.

“Ahhh you’re jokin me, could never forget a brother could I? We’re basically blood at this point I reckon. Where’d Mils run off ta?” Jack questioned with his arm around Ben’s neck, both of the boys looking out into the garden for the girl in question.

“Right here super Jack” Amelia spoke from behind them. During their brief discussion, Amelia had put her bag down and ran inside to grab herself a drink before walking out to face the music of Jack’s apology. Overhearing how lighthearted he was with Ben, coupled with the reassurance that Ben had provided her earlier in the evening plus the two or three vodka shots she had downed in their kitchen before coming to the afterparty had meant that she left her worries at the door.

“Mils, darlin', you already know what's coming but I truly am sorry...to both of ya ya’know. Benny, we’ve already had it out and it took me ages to get over that black eye but please believe me when I tell ya I am so sorry for treating you that way Amelia. From the bottom of my heart, I am sorry and I regret nothing more than how I made you feel.” Jack could feel himself getting teary whilst thinking about how he made the girl feel, how he made his best mate and chosen brother feel, how he really put a spanner in the works of their blossoming relationship.

“Jack, I’m not going to say it was ok because it wasn't. But it wasn’t just your fault, I also played a part in it that has me cursing myself every day for ruining things with Benj. I forgive you, Jacky.” Amelia spoke while reaching up and wrapping her arms around Jack’s neck to give him one of her signature squeezy hugs, to truly convey that she was moving on from their tumultuous past and hoped that he could stop beating himself up over it and do the same.

Jack had left the couple to return to the table and grab himself a refill of his drink. Ben’s arm had found its natural position around Amelia’s shoulders as they both stood there looking out at their friends. However, Ben was looking down at Amelia. Without missing a beat and keeping her eyes focused out on the yard, Amelia spoke only loud enough for Ben to hear.

“So, you gave Jack a black eye over me huh? That’s hot”

Amelia took a few steps forward before turning to look at the expression on Ben’s face as she continued to walk away from him, backwards. The slight shock turned into a full on smirk as he walked towards her eager to close the gap between them with a kiss. He knew she loved him with her whole heart, but he hoped that she would understand just how much he loved her right back.

The Proposal | la proposta

[secret-engima]

*kicks down door* WHO WANTS TO READ ME RAMBLE/RANT ABOUT THE GRALEA LEVEL IN FFXV AND WHY IT ACTUALLY WAS A GOOD LEVEL AND EVERYONE SHOULD PLAY THE NOCTIS ROUTE AT LEAST ONCE RATHER THAN THE GLADIO ROUTE EVEN THOUGH IT’S TERRIFYING AND FRUSTRATING.

No one?

WELL TOO BAD.

(Unless you haven’t played or watched the game yet and don’t want spoilers in which case TURN AWAY NOW).

...Ahem. *deep breath* Okay so I will forever stand by my opinion that chapter 13 of the game (the one that takes place on the train and then in Gralea) is Good™ and does exactly what it's supposed to in the narrative. That is not to say I don't hate it with a passion and didn't cheer when they added the Gladiolus route for those of us (like me) who didn't want to replay the Noctis route again, but I will stubbornly insist to anyone that wants to listen that the chapter's difficulty and wildly different tone and pacing was THE POINT of the darn thing and deserves some respect for it.

See, the game up to that point is, if not always lighthearted (because it's not), has still been something of an Adventure Story™. Yes there's horrible tragic things like Insomnia falling and Regis dying, but for the most part the gameplay is exploration and cool combat mechanics and the relationship between the four brothers. It's ... happy for a good chunk of it. There's this light at the end of the tunnel, this comfy assurance that there can be a happy ending, that this can all be fixed and tied up in a neat little bow somehow.

Then Altissia happens. Luna dies, Ignis is blinded, and the game puts you on literal rails, forcing you to go hurtling toward A Different Tone. Everyone is stressed, everyone is scared or angry. You’d THINK that this is the lowest point of the story and that surely there’s going to be an emotional reconciliation between Noctis and Gladio and then we’ll get back to exploring and saving the world and all that jazz.

Except we don’t.

The train scene with Ardyn and Shiva happens, and the entire heartbreak with Prompto happens, and that’s when things start to seriously crack. You lose all access to your magic while stuck in this narrow train, then you lose the Regalia, your symbol of freedom, your main way to travel through the game (even when you fast travel, the animation of arrival shows you getting out of the Regalia). You are now trapped in Gralea. In dark, hostile territory with one of your party missing, one of them blind, the other angry at you, and still no magic. Then a few minutes later you are forcibly separated from the rest of your party, the characters you’ve spent all game getting attached to, and leaning on, and laughing with. They are your last anchor points to the brother dynamic that has kept the whole game on a lighter note and now they are GONE. You have none of your weapons or skills, you have no idea where the others are (first time playing the game without spoilers anyway), you have NOTHING. No hope. No backup. No distractions from the fact that, oh yeah, this is a story where the Bad. Guys. Win. Are winning, have won, and all Noctis (all you) can do is take out the Ring that slowly killed Regis, that Luna died for, the thing that represents everything going wrong and all NOCTIS must do to fix it even when he is painfully, woefully unprepared ... and finally put it on. 

Noctis (and by extension you, the player) MUST shoulder the responsibility of being the king of a lost kingdom, of acknowledging that he IS the king, his dad was MURDERED, and Luna was killed for the thing you are now wearing and everything it means. It’s your only option until you eventually find the dead Ravus and take back Regis’s sword toward the middle/end of the level, which you can’t use recklessly because every swing drains your very life-force, forcing the Ring to still be your “best” option in many cases.

Most of that level is spent running, and hiding, and praying that the MT Units on the floor don’t leap up and try to murder you, or that the daemons don’t notice you, or that the teleporting daemon doesn’t find you, or that Ardyn will just SHUT UP because his taunts are really unhelpful right now.

The only hope you have left in this level is to grit your teeth and get through it with the Ring until you can reunite with your brothers and get magic back and go get the Crystal, the mcguffin of this whole game, and put the game back on the normal track of brotherly dynamics and fun quests. Just get to the Crystal, and everything will somehow start going back to normal.

And then that turns out to be a trap too.

Welcome to the final act of a tragedy, and your character is the one living through it. There will be no restoration of the norm until you’ve seen this to its final conclusion. There will be no light save for the one Noctis dies for.

Even when I first played that level (vanilla, not even a day one patch version btw because I was an idiot like that) and hated it because it was terrifying, I never thought it didn't belong in the story like ... quite a few comments I saw on the internet later insisted it didn’t. This is Noctis's story. This is Noctis's tragedy. THIS is the level that strips every last distraction and security blanket and shelter away from him and makes him put on the Ring and thus shoulder everything it represents. There is- terror here, there is trauma, there is GRIEF. This is practically Noctis's headspace without his brothers, because let's not forget that while we the players are having fun fishing and catching frogs for a silly scientist lady, Noctis is a refugee from an empire that MURDERED HIS FATHER and the FATHER OF HIS SHIELD-BROTHER, destroyed his HOME and then, right before Gralea, murdered Luna, the girl who he's known and talked to and confided in via letter for twelve years. This is a world falling into literal darkness (and if the player hadn’t noticed how the daytime cycle in the game kept getting shorter and shorter before this point YOU CERTAINLY NOTICE NOW) and it's up to Noctis- JUST Noctis, ONLY NOCTIS thanks to a Prophecy made long before he was ever born, to somehow Fix It™.

One person. Just one.

And he has to fix ... all of this.

How?

He doesn’t know. During the Gralea level he DOESN’T KNOW. All he (all we) know is that the Crystal is the key, but since the Crystal only answers to Lucis Caelums, that means Noctis is the key, and Noctis (and you the player) is painfully aware of how Not Ready he is.

And the weight of that is enough to render you helpless in the face of it. The fear of that is a maze. The terror of it is a monster following you down the halls that you cannot escape from and cannot kill while it laughs at your misery.

All of that is GRALEA. The capital city of the people who overthrew his home, killed his father, killed his fiancé, and isolated him from the last safety nets he had.

The entirety of chapter 13 isn’t meant to be enjoyed. It’s meant to make you scared. It’s meant to frustrate you and make you feel helpless. It’s meant to make you feel sick when you learn what the daemons and MTs you’ve been killing really are. It’s meant to make you RAGE against Ardyn, and the Empire, and this entire situation because you’re one person and you’re not prepared for this and it’s NOT FAIR and you just want things to go BACK TO THE WAY IT WAS AND ALL OF THIS SUCKS.

Yeah. It does.

And who else do you think feels like that?

Noctis.

Chapter 13 isn’t meant to be fun. It’s meant to make you feel like Noctis does.

And what emotions would you expect from someone who has just lost everything and is expected to fix everything for everyone else, and now has no distractions or shields between him and his grief?

I remember reading an article about “why this chapter failed” and it was basically to the order of “this game is about a fun road trip with your bros and reuniting with your fiancé and chapter 13 breaks away from that too hard” and I respectfully have to disagree.

This story isn’t about a “fun road trip” and it isn’t just about “reuniting with your fiancé”. From the very first cutscene we are told that it’s not in Regis’s desperate (and soon revealed as last) words to his son about setting forth on a journey and not being able to go back. We are told it’s not in the first hour or so when Insomnia burns and Noctis cries and Cor tells us that “in his last moments together he didn’t want to be your king, he wanted to be your father”. How is that a “fun story about a road trip?”. Yes the road trip IS fun for us, and it IS about the brother relationship, but in a large, LARGE part-

Final Fantasy XV is about a young man setting out into the world and facing the hardships of it. It’s about loss. It’s about regrets. It’s about how no matter how much you want them to, some things can never go back to the way they were yet you must keep going anyway. It’s about how the darkness of the world will just keep taking-taking-taking until someone is willing to pay the price to make it stop, and that sometimes a happy ending for the people you love most means giving up your own personal happy ending on their behalf.

Final Fantasy XV never really hid the fact that it was a tragic, bittersweet story.

But it’s in chapter 13 that the story refuses to let you mistake it for anything else any longer.

Could the chapter have been structured a little better so that the gameplay itself wasn’t so frustrating? Probably. I know almost nothing about game design so that’s not really my call. But does the chapter, for all its frustration and anger-inducing inversion of pacing and tone, brutally get the point across?

Maybe it’s just my opinion, but I’d say yes. Yes it does. Because this video game was the one that fully 100% convinced me, in a way that no other video game had before, that the platform could tell heart wrenching stories, could give me characters I would care for, cry over, rage on the behalf of.

And a big part of that clicked for me at the ending, but it likely wouldn’t have if I hadn’t first struggled my way through chapter 13 and all the emotions it causes and represents just like Noctis did.

...

There. I’m done. Thanks for reading my long-suppressed rant on the most hated chapter of FFXV.

[manggaetteokkie]

Can I just gripe here for sec because I've got some beefs lol 1- Can fans stop getting upset for the guys as if they're not adults and can't speak up if something bothers them enough? This whole free Jungkook from Jimin is annoying. I tried ignoring but the bitter reaction to today's little Jimin close up to JK's neck clip makes me want to set fire to my eyebrows. If Jungkook was seriously bothered like extremely uncomfortable, I do not believe Jimin would still be doing it (page 1)

(Page 2) Jungkook is not a pushover. He could at anytime have a sit down and tell Jimin not to do it anymore. If Jimin then kept on doing it then I doubt Jungkook would be willing to spend so much time with someone who didn't respect his boundaries. Instead they're the best of friends. 2- People doubt how much JK cared about JM after the non bday post but this is the same dude who got lost and ended up crying to Jimin about how sorry he was because he did not want to lose that relationship lol

omfg I know you wanted to vent but holy shit “makes me want to set fire to my eyebrows” is an expression I will have to use at some point in my life because good lord I don’t even know what it’s supposed to express but I feel it in my soul

That aside, this post is pretty much exactly everything I agree with? All this grade AAA beef is what I’m here for, so let’s make a tasty steak out of it x)

I mean, the boundaries thing pretty much goes both ways. On one hand, as you’ve said, if Jungkook really didn’t like something, he would’ve told Jimin by now and Jimin would’ve stopped. They’ve been together long enough to have had the necessary discussions without needing people feeling so-called-righteous-anger on JK’s behalf as a catalyst for change. 

On the other hand, Jimin himself is also not oblivious enough to miss how uncomfortable Jungkook would’ve been with skinship, so he himself would’ve reigned it in. The fact that they spend time together outside of what we see on screen pretty much shows that they are close and comfortable with each other’s presence? Not just comfortable, but they would be willing to seek each other out to spend even more time together? Like, even if there are stuff about each other that bothers them, it’s clearly not anything that matters or we should care about?

And yeah, measuring the depth of a relationship based on whether or not he posted for Jimin’s birthday is definitely a weird one for me. I can somewhat understand people feeling unhappy because “hey, it’s just a birthday post, would’ve taken him 2 seconds to just show this little bit of appreciation and appease the masses”, but still... I think I’ve already made my feelings clear so I’m not gonna bother repeating my words. This is the guy who, in 2015-2016, had a big enough fight with Jimin to have Jimin leave in a fit of anger, only to call Jimin a few minutes after to apologize??

Like damn, the funniest thing to me is when people say “ah Jimin and Jungkook are not close, they just do it for the cameras” or “Ah, it’s probably all faked, look at how JK didn’t even post for his bday” in 20-fkn-20. Bro, it’s been seven years, if anything were to have happened to break their relationship, it would’ve already happened a few years ago. If they didn’t like each other, JK wouldn’t have booked tickets to Tokyo for Jimin’s birthday, Jimin wouldn’t have boarded that flight to South Korea just to celebrate JK’s birthday before leaving again, they wouldn’t be drinking buddies, etc etc.

Part of me feel that it’s literally because people only look at their relationship face value, only seeing Jimin as this affectionate hyung and Jungkook as this introverted dongsaeng. Yes, this is part of who they are but it’s not all they are. They understand each other’s struggles because they are similar, as seen during their documentaries series when Jimin rushed over when he heard that Jungkook had hurt himself because he thought he was going to cry. Yes, that comment might have been made as a lighthearted joke after seeing that JK was fine but there’s an underlying meaning that he knows how frustrated JK would be because of how his injury would affect his performance. Similarly, Jungkook understands Jimin’s frustrations of being unable to give his 110% because of his neck pain.

Anyways, I got a little too into my answer (sorry anon, for this long ass reply) but seriously, the relationship between Jimin and Jungkook is a hill I am willing to die on. I literally don’t care if you ship it or not, you just can’t in good conscience say that they don’t care about each other when we’ve had 7 years worth of proof that they do.

[lideria]

Loverboy. | YangYang

Request: hiiii i wanna request something bc i had inspiration but i dont really write things, something with yangyang being your brother’s best friend and your family goes swimming with him along but he’s really awkward around you because he likes you? i just find that really cute 😭

Author’s Note: I really like this? And I love the love YangYang’s getting? I have another request for YangYang and wow that makes me happy? Also keep in mind I’m an only child so I tried my best based on what I’ve seen lmao

Warnings: Swear words, mentions of drinking, not proofread I’m sorry I’m really bad at it. English is my second language so if there are any errors please excuse me! I think that should be it? Let me know if there is more!

Word Count: 3.832 kinda long

Genre: Fluff, sprinkles of Crack and Angst, yet another college!au but not dominantly I’d say, friends!au, whof*ckingknowshowtheyendup!au

Hope you enjoy it loves! Have a good morning/day/afternoon/evening/night, I’m heading off to sleep lol 💚

“YangYang, why don’t you come with us this time?”

There is a dead silence that occurs after your father speaks. The three of you had been hanging out— lounging around on the couches since the weather is too hot to do anything else— as you always do in the living room while your parents were outside grocery shopping for the coming trip, and this happened to be their greeting when they stepped into the house. Your father’s suggestion is lighthearted with a smile on his face, which is making the silence more unbearable than it has to be. “We’re just staying for the weekend. I think your parents would be okay with it, don’t you think?”

“Um, I don’t know,” YangYang answers quickly and rather awkwardly. He looks to his side when your brother nudges (more like jokingly kicks) his leg with his foot. “Just say yes man.”

You do not bother to look up from your phone at the conversation that is going on, because this conversation has been repeating itself for a couple of years now. The answer had always been no at the end— since YangYang had to work at the dance studio, in his defense. Two years ago was hectic because of all the college businesses that had to be taken care of, document work and moving in and what not, and last year had been the same because of your admission to college.

As far as you and your brother knows he does not have an excuse this time. Plus, the three of you do not have the chance to hang out as much anymore as all of your schools’ schedules fall on different times, so this could be one of the last times you get to hang out freely until next year.

You hear the subject of the question laugh slightly. “I guess my sister could use a little break from me,” It is then that you hear a shuffle, a more audible hit, and a grunt that follows from your brother’s best friend. “It’s literally three letters, you’re making things harder than they need to be.”

“It’s not like you don’t sleep over at ours anyway, what makes it different if it’s someplace else?” You ask, and the two boys turn to look at you. Lifting your finger to your temple and tapping it several times you smile at YangYang, knowing the peer pressure must get to him at this point— not to mention the very drunken sleepovers he had had in college he had told you guys about in apartments he had not known the residents of. Both your brother and you could play that card any time.

YangYang seems to recognize that. “When are we leaving, then?”

The next day, five in the morning. You put your luggages one by one into the car, having to place a couple of them in front of the backseats since the stuff you had taken for only three days had already occupied most of the space. YangYang looks surprisingly awake, more awake than you and your brother could ever look waking up at that time.

And as if it is not bad enough that you are awake at this time after barely an hour’s sleep last night (as you had procrastinated getting ready until you absolutely had to), your brother opens the back door and nods his head towards the seats. “C’mon. You’re sitting in the middle.”

“Why do you hate me so much?” The whine is one of desperation since on top of everything you also have to sit on the tightest and hardest seat. But your brother does not give into it. “I don’t hate you, we just need more leg room than you do.” Which is right, but annoying.

You are the first to sit down at your seat, your brother and YangYang following suit. The three of you sit in silence as your parents and YangYang’s speak to each other outside, laughing. You can hardly keep your eyes open but when you are about to put your earphones on and lay your head back to try and sleep, your brother decides to start speaking. He starts going on and on about his plans for the upcoming two and a half days as if he would have the time to do them all, and at one point he starts speaking of someone you know all too well.

When he does, you shoot your eyes open and turn to face him. “You’re gonna hang out with who?”

“Didn’t you hear? Was I not loud enough?” He raises his voice, which makes both you and YangYang hiss a little at his antic because it really is too early for whatever he is doing. “Fuck you, okay? I don’t care. Just don’t have your tongues down each other’s throats around me. That’s disgusting.”

“I apologized for that and it wasn’t even my fault.” He says just as your parents open the doors to their seats, prompting you to shut your mouths up. It annoyed you to all extents imaginable that he would be hanging out with his summer fling once again— not that you did not like them, but the fact that they would never commit to a full on relationship was incredibly annoying considering they do whatever they do every single summer.

He mumbles something about you being upset you are lonely as your mother starts the car and starts driving, and you elbow him in the side, eliciting a silent groan from him as YangYang chuckles at you two. You lay your head back, your neck incredibly uncomfortable— so you give up on it instantly and turn to YangYang.

“Can I lay my head on your shoulder? I’ll share my earphones with you.”

It takes him a while to respond, which is weird, but it is still too early in the morning after all. In the end, though, he gulps a little and nods saying of course. So you lay your head down on his shoulder that is arguably not any more comfortable than the headrest is but at least your head is laid at a reasonable angle. YangYang accepts the earphone you hand out to him, and places his elbow against the window, leaning his cheek against his knuckles as he starts watching the changing scenery.

You fall asleep within a few minutes.

The drive lasted only about four hours long, so when you arrived at the little baby blue cottage near the beach none of you were really awake. But that matter had to be thrown to some non-visitable place in your brain as there was much cleaning to do before any of you could even imagine walking down to the beach.

Your brother vacuums and YangYang mops the floors as you dust around and clean the windows, your parents take care of the groceries and switch the water and electricity on. Luckily the cottage is really small, barely a living room with a sofa and a love-seat pushed close to each other, a small and old TV, open-plan kitchen with little counter space, two small bedrooms— yours with a couple pull out couches— and a small bathroom with very limited space that could only fit one person at a time.

But it still holds a warm feeling to it not counting the heat outside. The kind that makes you feel all warm and lovely inside.

Even though the cottage is small, cleaning it up takes some time. It is already the afternoon by the time you are finished, which is really sad considering today is Saturday, and you would already be on your way back by Monday afternoon.

But you forget about it when YangYang walks into the bedroom the three of you would be staying in, seeing you cleaning the windows. He drops his bag on a couch before turning back at you. “I’m done with mopping.”

“That’s great.” You say, spraying more of the cleaning liquid to the glass before getting back to trying to get a stubborn stain off. “I can help you, if you’d like.”

“Ah,” The cloth drops to your leg as you huff because wow it is really hot. “I mean I think I’ll be done soon. You guys can get ready to go out I guess.”

Silence. The awkward kind, but the kind of awkward where you know he is hesitant to tell you something. Only one thing comes to your mind. “Did he—?” You cannot finish the sentence because of how damn angry the possibility makes you that your brother ditched you and his best friend from the first minute. “He said they’re only gonna greet each other and he’ll be meeting us at the beach.”

With a dramatic roll of your eyes, you get back to wiping. “If he’s so in love, why wouldn’t he just ask them out I swear this happens all the fucking time—“

YangYang starts laughing as you rant, and you join him after a while, half because your response to feeling pissed off is laughing and half because his low laugh is pretty damn contagious. After your laughs subside you throw the cloth on the windowsill because to all hell with that— if your brother gets to vacuum and immediately storm out, you get to go outside without taking the stain off the window. “Let’s just get ready.”

The beach is not crowded when you walk down, most probably because it is not the season yet for most people.

The waves are ginormous but you do not really care, the sea was mostly like this rather than not. Which is why you just put down your towel without so much as a glance at its way. YangYang does the same as you, helping you with the umbrella and making sure it would not budge in the wind. “Are you really not mad at my brother?” You ask as you put the last stone at the corner of your towel to secure it in place.

“Why would I be?” He looks completely unbothered, which kind of answers your question. “I don’t know, bros before hoes and all that,” You huff. “I’d be mad at him— I am mad at him.”

“We both know he’s kind of really head over heels. Doesn’t faze me,” YangYang chuckles as you bunch up some sand in your hand. “Plus, he was the one that asked your father to come here.”

“He was?” The sheer shock that you seem to show makes him laugh, eyes tracing over your face as he leans on his hand. “You didn’t know?”

“I didn’t,” You confirm, shaking your head side to side. “Why— no offense, but why would he encourage you to come along then?”

YangYang clears his throat a little and shrugs. “Emotional support if things go wrong, I guess.”

You laugh, shaking your head again. Then it hits you. “Wait, so he’s actually gonna ask them out?”

“Yeah, I mean they’d been kind of trying the long distance thing out this year. So I don’t even know if he has to ask them out.” There is a pause before he smiles. “I’m happy for him. At least one of us gets to have the relationship they want, even if it’s hard to have it.”

Your head snaps at him at that, a wide grin on your face. “Aw, you have someone you like?”

The question seems to fluster him immediately. He gets uncomfortable, you can feel it, as he shifts in his place and sniffs. He is all smiley when he turns his gaze towards the sea. “I do. But I don’t think it’ll happen.”

“Why is that? Tell me about them,” Your words only seem to corner him further, but you frankly cannot care. Knees close to your chest, you hug them closer, placing your chin on top of your knee. He looks at you briefly before letting out an airy chuckle and turning his gaze back to where it had been. “They’re just.. amazing. Witty and playful but also grounded. Good thing is we’re close, but yet we’re so far. That’s all I can say, really.”

You want to nag him about it, but he cuts you off before you can, his head perking up. “Oh, your parents are coming.”

He gets surprised when you spring up onto your feet urging him to do the same with your hand. He gets up too, and you take your beach attire as quickly as you can which prompts an all awkward cough from him, tugging at his t-shirt before taking your own piece of clothing off your neck. “If you don’t want to be interviewed for the next several hours we have to go swimming right now.” You explain, knowing your parents would keep him as a hostage for some conversation— topic most likely being how college is, if he is doing good in his classes, if he is happy with his life, what does he want to do in the future, any hopes and dreams; the topics were endless.

The two of you only say hello to your parents before rushing to the sea, jumping in without much preparation as the waves would have hit you first if you had not done it.

The water is really cold because of the current, but you still have your fun.

YangYang and you both help your parents cook that night after taking your showers, and even as you are eating, your brother does not return. After you finish your dinner and the two of you have some coffee, you start talking about how dancing is going for YangYang, and your brother does not return.

Even when you drag YangYang outside by his wrist, walking to the square filled with stands and shops, saying “I need enough ice cream to make me regret being born.” and eat said enough amount, regret ever bracing the surface of this earth as your companion does the same, and come back— your brother does not return.

Instead, he returns after YangYang and you prepare his bed for him on the ground and change into your pajamas one by one. To be exact, he returns when the two of you are having your final glasses of water before going to sleep.

YangYang and you had agreed on doing something for when he did return, so even as you are caught by surprise as you are sipping on your water, you force it down before starting to applaud your brother. His friend beside you lets out a laugh at you before joining. Your brother looks something between surprised and confused.

“You found your way home!” You shout, making your parents laugh all the way from their room (which is not that far from the kitchen given the cottage’s size). “You’ve grown so much, you can find directions on your own without us having to pick you up.” You place your hand on your chest for dramatic measures. “I’m so proud.”

“Shut up.” Although his voice comes out annoyed, your brother has a smile on his face that makes you happy. You lean on the counter as he walks over and fills up a glass of water for himself, looking up at him curiously— and a bit mischievously. With your elbow you nudge YangYang a bit, encouraging him to ask.

He does. “So, how’d it go?”

“It went so bad that I had to take a walk that ended up lasting a few hours— it went good. We missed each other.” As always with your brother, he has to be annoying while answering the question. He leaves to get ready for bed leaving the two of you behind.

You and YangYang only look at each other in annoyance, and you make him break in laughter when you mock your brother’s it went good, we missed each other.

The three of you are out the door the moment you finish your breakfast next morning.

You gather your towels, the umbrella, the volleyball and the frisbee for your full day at beach that you must make the most of before going back home the next day.

The waves seem more acceptable today although they are nowhere near calm, but again, you do not care. You place the towels down, YangYang helps with the umbrella again, and your brother sets up the snacks you had brought along. The small cooler sits in between the towels and under the umbrella’s shadow.

The three of you all decide that playing some volleyball and ultimate frisbee before getting into the water is a smart choice, so you play around for who knows how long. Sun shining bright and strong on your heads, sand burning the bottoms of your feet, the sea breeze hitting your faces; sometimes you laugh, sometimes you scream in frustration, sometimes you scream just because you want to. All three of you have your fair share of sand in your mouths and on your face after dipping countless times for the volleyball and the frisbee. You get a couple of sand burns on your feet, and YangYang scratches the side of his hand when he falls down after catching the frisbee and landing on a random piece of log that had washed up to the shore— most likely after a forest fire that brought the content with the sea current.

But you definitely have a burnout at some point and have a swim in the sea, a swim of unnecessary splash wars considering how big the waves are. The two boys keep dunking each other’s heads into the sea, having their own fun from time to time, being silly. The mood is up there the whole time as you join their competition on who will hold their handstand for the longest time which is weird as the waves knock you all over so it really depends on how far the wave is when you start your handstand.

And it only hits you just how much time has passed when all of you go back and wrap yourselves in towels and sit down to have a few snacks along with some beer that was packed in the cooler.

“It’s so hot,” YangYang complains, and upon placing a hand on his shoulder you can indeed say he is hot. Probably too hot. The best solution you have at that moment is holding the cold beer bottle against his back. Which makes him jump in his place, and gets you laughing. “That feels so good but it’s so cold!” He basically screams, and you urge your brother to do the same as what you are doing, reaching out for the ice in the cooler.

You notice how pink or rather red his back is when you put the ice in his t-shirt in an attempt to make an ice bag out of it. “You’ve burned,”  You let out with a laugh. “That’s gonna peel for sure.” And you place the makeshift bag on his back.

When you get back to the house your brother is the first to take a shower since he has a special someone he needs to see once more before he leaves for home and for another year of college.

YangYang sits on the lounge chair out on the porch with you stood behind him, putting on aloe vera burn cream on his burnt upper back. He groans sometimes but tries to hide it by laughing, and honestly you are grateful for that— because it really looks like it must be hurting a whole lot, and you do not like seeing people in pain. “You messed up big time loverboy.”

He chokes on his spit. “What?”

“What, what? You messed up because you didn’t put enough sunscreen, and you are crushing on someone— hence the loverboy.”

“Ah, yeah,” He mumbles. “True.”

Everyone is asleep.

At least everyone should be, but you are not.

Instead you are sat out on the porch, and on the lounge chair, with only a glass of water in your hands and your earphones placed on your ears as songs of all kinds play. The midnight breeze had been too inviting for you to not stay up, hearing the angry waves of the sea crash to the shore. In the distance there is a cargo ship (ships were frequent in the off-season and at nights since the beach was not much used), the only light source in sight.

The sky is already only ever so slightly turning into a brighter grey, signaling the coming of the morning. You still had half a day before having to return back to sitting at your middle seat for the four hour drive, then doing the laundry, and then slowly but surely getting back to chores and schoolwork, preparing for your return to the campus in the upcoming weeks.

But right now, you want to stay in this moment forever. This moment where everything is so silent and so peaceful without worry of school or work or anything, this moment where your parents still do not have to get back to work, this moment where your brother is still close to the person who he loves.

It feels selfish for you to even think of it, though. Because you know YangYang is not truly all that happy at this moment. He is still crushing on someone, someone who he knows he does not have much chance of being together with. And on top of that, he is doing it with a pretty bad burn on his back.

Maybe time must move on for him, then. Maybe as time moves on everything can fall in place a bit better.

But you definitely want time to stop again when someone pulls an earphone out of your ear. You jump a little in your seat, trying to make out the face in the dark before they speak. “Hey,” YangYang whispers. “You weren’t sleeping were you?”

“No,” You say as your heart beats, no signs of slowing. “You couldn’t sleep?”

He chuckles at the answer that will get repeated, and at the question that addresses the obvious. “No,” And he sits down on the seat you open up for him, the two of you sitting side to side, arms touching. “I’ve been thinking.”

“About?” He sighs, and you can tell it is shaky, but not in the sad way. You do not remember ever seeing him sad, for that matter. “About my feelings.”

“What about your feelings?” There is a huff that leaves him that is full of uncertainty, but it is less shaky than his sigh. Bravery, maybe. His eyes that are fixed on the ship turn to you, a smile on his face, and he has to take one more breath before he speaks, eyes once again trailing all over your face before landing on yours.

“I really like you. Have been for a long time. I just thought you should know.”

[finn-wolfhard]

I need me some quality content and this is the best place for it. Could I get some being Steve's sister and dating Robin? (If that already exists somewhere then please direct me to it bc this idea is like crack to me) Thanks!!

Yo! I've just gotten back into Tumblr since quarantine has given me an abundance of time. I can guess that you ended up getting this elsewhere, anon, but for the folk who also want to read about wlw Robin B and Big Bro Steve - this ones for you! 

Enjoy x

I Do 

“Turn that shit down! GOD! I feel I’m listening to them in concert.” Steve was screaming from downstairs for me to turn my music down and before I could move an inch to do so, he barged through the door. “Look, I don’t want another complaint from Mrs. Fritz next door. Can you please turn it down. I promised mom and dad that the roof would still be on this place by the time they got home. I’m heading to work. The money for delivery is on the table. Just try not to get yourself into bother, OK?” 

“Yeah, sure, sorry Steve. What time will you be home?” our parents are both out of town on business and so Steve has been appointed man of the house. Last time we were left alone, Mrs. Fritz called the police on us, placing a noise complaint. It was just me playing my radio a little bit too loud in my room. My bedroom window is right next to her living room. 

“I’ll be home around 8. Do you want to wait till I’m home to order pizza?”

“Sure thing, dude” I answered, giving him a thumbs up and a grin.

“You’re a goof. I’ll see you at 8.”

Steve and I’s relationship is reasonably good for the average brother and sister. He’s a year older than me and has the same interests. Such as; Hair, Pizza, our looks, and girls. I’ve known I’ve been into girls since I was a little kid but dad would kill me if I ever brought a girl home. Mom would be a little more understanding, yet still against the idea - and I don’t even know how Steve would react if he found out. I think he’s the only person I’d be fully comfortable telling, but I don't want to risk it going the complete opposite way.

I hear the door slam and decide to get out of my pajamas and actually DO something today. The schools broke up for summer last week and all I’ve been doing is reading, listening to music, and waiting for my best friend Jennifer to get home from vacation and tell me all about it. She’s due home in three days. I finally muster up enough self-motivation to move from my cozy, pink bed to the bathroom. The cold tiles under my feet wake me up and I stare at myself in the mirror for a bit. I had managed to grow a little spot just below my hairline (which I quickly treated with zit cream) but that was about as far as the flaws went. I usually take good care of myself; drinking enough, taking my vitamins, brushing my teeth after every meal. I do care about my looks and I shouldn’t be ashamed of that. It helps gets me a lot of attention in school, and I’ve never been an outcast. I guess having Steve as a big brother does contribute to the high school fame, but I don’t let it get to me much. I'm just glad I’ve gotten through high-school without being bullied at least once. I looked at my scraggly hair. I had just had a perm done two weeks ago and it seemed to be holding up pretty well. I scrunched my hair to make it look nice and messed it up a bit to give it volume. 

In the kitchen, there was the money on the table, like Steve said, and a note next to it. 

Save me a slice! Steve :)

He must’ve written the note then realized that a slice won't suffice after a long shift at his dorky Scoops Ahoy! job, and asked me to wait up for him. It's a shame people don’t get to see this side of Steve and I. I know how we come across to other people. I’ve heard the odd remark here and there about how he’s a player and I’m a priss. It mostly comes from the social outcasts in the school, the ones who aren’t in our friend circles, and don’t get to see what we’re really like. Even then, our school personalities are a bit of a performance to uphold our popularity. Only Steve knows my real self and vice verses, and we both understand why it has to be like that. Its an unspoken rule type thing. 

I open the fridge and get some milk for cereal. I pour a bowl of Fruity Pebbles. Fred smiles at me from the box as I grab the phone off the wall and dial Amanda’s number. 

“Hey Mands, you want to go to the mall today”

“y/n! Hi! That sounds great. I need a new outfit for my date with Justin on Friday.”

“Cool, so, 12? That sound ok?”

We agreed on 12:30 (since she had to take her dog on a walk) and she suggested we meet outside the Gap. Soon enough, 12:30 rolls around and I see Amanda smiling wildly at me, where she said she'd be, outside the Gap. She sweeps me into a warm hug and we gush about how much we’ve missed each other since school broke up. 

“Ok, so I need to go to Claires to get some earrings.” I agree to help her find a pair that would, quote “make Justin harder than math.” I don’t really understand how a pair of earrings could do this to a guy, or even if guys pay attention to earrings at all, but I was open to being proved wrong. We start making our way to the stairs when Amanda realizes she’s suddenly craving ice cream. I put it down to the fact that there were Scoops Ahoy! Adverts on every trash can (I’m unsure if that is a sign or not). We make a detour to Steve’s work and I make a plan to pull a few strings to get a free cone or two. We enter the ice cream parlor and… Steve isn’t there. Instead, a girl with short blonde hair is serving the queue of customers. 

I squint at her, trying to remember her name. Rosie? No, that's not it. It begins with an R for definite. Its to do with an animal… a R-R-Robin! Her name is Robin. And she’s…pretty? Like, really pretty. And not very girly? I can’t tell since she’s wearing a silly uniform… but god, is she pretty. 

As I’m staring at her, a slew of slurs come racing into my mind. Slurs I panicked were being shouted at me down the halls but never were. They were always aimed…at her. At Robin. Words beginning with D and F that make my blood boil. Chip, A boy in my own friend group, muttering “Stay away from my sister, homo!” In class. I put a hand up to my mouth to hide a gasp. This girl was outed, by someone she thought was her friend from band, in Hawkins - which isn’t known for being the most accommodating and accepting town.

Amanda and I reach the front of the queue and I find myself unable to look directly at the girl serving me. 

“Hi! Welcome to Scoops Ahoy! What can I get you today?” She seemed overly enthusiastic for some reason. 

“Hi, is Steve here?” I say, breaking the awkwardness I had built up in my own mind. She looked away, disheartened? I couldn’t tell. 

“Steve, your sisters here” then she whispered something that sounded like “you can leave your little nerd friend to figure it out for a bit” but I wasn’t really sure. 

Steve appeared from around the corner.

“what do you want, squirt?” 

“2 sundaes please” I replied, smiling.

“that will be five dollars pleas-“

“STEVE! Can’t you gift your baby sister with a sundae for once?” I cut him off, appalled that he’s making me pay, but still keeping it lighthearted. 

“…fine. But only this ONE TIME” he shot back. I winked at him, thanked him, and waited for him to finish our sundaes. He brought them over and sat with us. 

“Who’s that girl?” I instantly questioned, trying not to sound too interested but failing miserably.

“Oh, that's Robin Buckley. She’s in your year at school, don’t you know her?” I do know her. But I don’t want to admit that yet, I want to play it cool.

“I think I’ve seen her around yeah, I’ve just never had a good look at her before. I think she’s in my social studies class?” I look to Amanda to ask this question but Amanda is already nodding by this point. Steve looks unconvinced. 

“well, I invited her for pizza tonight,” he said, not wanting to ask ‘is that ok?’ In front of Amanda to keep up his macho ‘I’m Steve Harrington’ persona. I glance over at Robin. By this time, she’s known as lovely Robin in my head. Not that I could help it, along with the butterflies in my stomach or the extreme excitement that she was going to be having dinner. With me. In my house. Tonight!… What am I doing? Get a grip of yourself! You’re not out - as if that is ever going to happen anyways - and Robin was coming for Steve. Of course she was. I mentally roll my eyes. Just my luck.

The rest of the day goes by pretty quickly. Amanda gets her outfit and ‘math’ earrings - which I still don’t understand - and I get a few cute t-shirts and skirts thanks to my allowance mom gave me before she went away. By the time I get home, it is 4 pm which means I have precisely 4 hours to get myself ready for tonight. I go to my room, read for a bit, then put my makeup on in my vanity mirror. I don’t want to mess this up, but then again, why am I caring so much?. I eventually get myself sorted and wait for 8 pm to roll around. At 7:45 I phone Hal’s Pizza Shop and order 2 pepperoni pizzas and 1 plain Margherita. I came to the decision that If Robin is vegetarian then she can have the just cheese, but if not, I’ll take it.  

I hear Steve’s key in the lock and he shouts to me from downstairs.

“Hey that's me back, y/n, did you order the pizza?” 

“Sure did!” I came to the top of the stairs and looked down at the front door. Robin was staring up at me and I couldn’t help staring at her back. Steve obviously missed this whole exchange of tension.

“Good! Because I’m starving. I’m gonna put a video on, anyone down for watching Indiana Jones?” He mimics a whipping sound and runs off to the living room, leaving Robin and me to awkwardly start a conversation. 

“So, you work with Steve. I’ll apologize on your employer's behalf.” I laugh, eventually. Robin looked relieved that I had said something, and even more so that it was a joke. 

“It's not as bad as you would think, he brings in loads of customers with that ‘magnificent hair’” she replies, making fun of Steve’s obsession with his, admittedly, perfect mane. 

“I’ve seen you about school before, sorry I’ve never talked to you before,” I said. I really meant it, she seems cool. And kinda hot? But that wasn’t important to me…

“Yeah, I guess our groups don’t tend to mix as much. I'm surprised you even know my name” she looks at her feet. She knows I know about the slurs and bullying, I can tell. Just then, there's a ring at the door and Steve reappears, running to get the door that we are standing 2 inches away from. 

After sitting, eating, chatting, and laughing our way through Indiana Jones, I realise Steve has fallen asleep beside me. So does Robin. We both snicker at him and then collectively tuck him in with the blankets on the back of the sofa. We sit in silence for a minute. 

“Robin. I want to say I'm sorry for all the stuff you get called at school. It's not cool and especially from my group-“

“it's fine” she cuts me off. She seems distant though. 

“I don’t think you understand what it does to me hearing people shout words like that at someone. It's inhuman,” Robin looks at me over her cup of hot chocolate Steve made us halfway through the movie. She looks on the verge of tears. “I mean, I don’t know how I would cope with that if people knew I was one too.” I look away from her confused stare in embarrassment. Robin is the first person I tell this massive secret to and I've only been in her company for the past 3 hours? But it felt right. It felt too right, almost.

Robin picks herself up from her space in the armchair and comes to sit on the arm of the sofa. She doesn’t hesitate to put her arm around my shoulders and squeeze me in for a side hug. I hadn’t realized that I had started to cry and I wipe my eyes and nose with the back of my hand. 

“I’m so sorry they said those things to you” I whispered while silently sobbing.

“Don’t worry about it, y/n, I have pretty thick skin when it comes to bullying. I've been in band for the past 3 years,” I look at her and let out a small laugh. The smile fades from her lips and a serious look takes over her face. “You don’t need to feel ashamed. Or embarrassed. I’m honored you told me, I know how much trust that takes. Thank you.” 

We sit embracing for a couple of minutes and I try to defuse the tension. “You know, I think you’re pretty hot.” She laughs, and I can feel the heat radiating off of her. She’s blushing. 

“You’re not too bad yourself, Harrington,” she gives me a small smile. “I think you’re the prettiest girl in our year.” Now it was my turn to blush. I’m not sure if she’s saying this out of courtesy, sympathy, or if she really means it. 

“You don't have to say that” I roll my eyes and let out an embarrassed giggle. 

“I do.” She whispers back, the darkness multiplying the tension by 10. After a while of nervous silence, not sure what to say next, Robin asks you a question.

“I hope I’m not out of line for saying this, and you can one hundred percent say no,” I looked at her, questioningly, “but why don’t we go out sometime? We can go to the park or we can go to the cinema. Your choice… if you want-if you want to.” She was visibly nervous. In the pitch black, with only the dim glow from the paused movie TV static lighting up the room, I agreed to go on a date with her (”I’d like that”). We both can tell the other is excited but can also tell the other is exhausted. Robin moves back over to the armchair, which was just big enough for a teenage girl to curl up in, and I curl up to my sound asleep brother. It takes a while to finally get to sleep, but I can’t help my mind doing laps, thinking about my future date with Robin Buckley. 

[mc-slowwalker]

MULLET MULLET MULLET YES

philza being 100000 years old is something I can get behind tbh. my least favourite age hc, which I think I actually hate with a burning passion, is the tommy and tubbo were 9 during the first l’manberg wartime actually ignites a visceral rage in me

yeah!! I managed to make it to pink’s bedwars stream the other day and it was great. yeah lol I was lowkey upset too when foolish was added cause I had no idea who he was but he’s super fun so that’s cool! I like high energy stream more too cause I zone out super easily. unless it’s dream, he can stream anything and I’ll try my hardest to pay attention the whole time

ooooh vet that’s cool. oh my god c!dream going into the dentist after months in prison😭😭😭 I’m imagining c!techno as a beefy pig sitting in the kind of small couch/seats we have in the waiting room. Tommy would 100% bite and then get really mad about getting a toy that we give to little kids after their treatment lol

omg the pet wars 😔😔😔 so sad. everyone in the dsmp is emotionally attached to their animals than anything else and what can I say, I’m the same

oh yeah I also tend to take c!dream criticism to heart more idk why. I’m definitely way more defensive of c!dream apologists than any other they get so much unnecessary shit. though from your other anons it looks like c!sam apologists are getting more shit too which sucks but solidarity ig. oh man I get you I have to tell myself to like take a step back and not take everything so personally. another thing on twitter is that people who vehemently hate c!dream will sometimes just refuse to use /dsmp /roleplay tags like it’s not that hard, tweets without that have already been misinterpreted to hate on cc!dream which just pisses me off like you can have your shit opinion just tag it properly. and like when people tell them to include it they’ll be like “ohh the dream apologists harassed me.” and yeah people genuinely go around calling c!dream apologists abuse apologists and it’s terrible. like I don’t care if you have your bad takes and aren’t willing to discuss them, just tag it properly and don’t shit on c!dream apologists it’s not that hard. though it’s funny the other day, the first time I replied to some shut take on twitter, in a lighthearted manner too, I got instantly blocked and there’s this on person on twt, they’re also on tumblr, that blocks anyone that even slightly disagrees with them. oh well ig

also did you see about that lore that foolish did? it was certainly something

sorry for the late and shorter reply I got halfway through writing this then went to do something then just fell asleep and I just got a notification that ponk is live! and I’m awake so Imma go watch them

Jack Mulletfold I’m on my jack manifold mullet truther arc

The 9 year old thing was bad and I also hated the c!dream was 13 during the l’manburg war thing too like no this is all so much funnier if they are the ages that they are now. And like father like son fundy tried to set a timeline up too (his it’s been a year comment) like no dude stop time doesn’t exist unless it’s real world

With watching streams I’m the exact same way but I usually tune into quackity and tommy’s chill streams as well. I think it’s because I know them enough to care about what they’re saying so the lack of mental stimulation is made up for by my want to care

Wait fuck with the dentist thing would c!techno actually have to go to a vet instead because of anatomy stuff or-

C!Dream is probably missing a few teeth and after not brushing so long ugh

I would joke that c!sapnap’s done nothing wrong but I haven’t forgiven him for henry

I simply don’t user twitter I tried to post a shit post but I don’t understand the tagging system so it flopped. Stopped using it there and then. say what you want about me but you guys gotta know that I’m a petty bitch first and foremost. With the “harassment” stuff I’ve had my fair share of sending anons asking people to tag stuff right and half the time they just say why and then don’t do it. You wanna know why? Please thats why. I have a real issue with the abuse apologist stuff because like bro that’s a serious accusation and it’s overall just seems super inappropriate. It usually doesn’t get to me but if I’m in the wrong mood it can really fuck me up. When cc!wilbur said that every character was morally gray and that c!dream apologists were right & wrong about somethings I was kinda like “oh thank god a streamer I like doesn’t hate me for liking c!dream” and was hella embarrassed that I even let it get me that far skdhfk. Oh yeah about people blocking you there are so many people who have me blocked on here and while I totally encourage using your block button liberally and often I still notice and its like aw man… creeper…… so we back in the mines…….

You’re gonna have to be a little more specific I feel lije foolish has done a lot of lore, though I think I’ve missed most of it. Are you talking about truing to break into the prison? Hilarious that every character despite their opinion on c!dream has at one point attempted to break into the prison. If only c!dream knew that the only common enemy the server needed was a building they were supposed to stay out of

dont say sorry that’s illegal (/j) also the thing I like about anon is that you can come back and respond when ever is best for you? Makes me feel like an old western bar tender who is just vibing. That’s the dream social interaction tbh

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Love me, love me not ~ pt.1

01: When Grayson meets Y/N

Summary: Y/N meets the twins, leaving a lasting impression on both of them.

Warnings: swearing, fluff, angst

Word count: ~ 2k

Love me, love me not ~ Series Masterlist

Grayson looked himself up and down, one last check up to make sure he was perfect.. as perfect as he could be. After all, he was about to meet a girl, someone who had the power to both make his career and destroy him entirely. To make the matters worse, she looked like an angel who had her wings clipped by the world and she was to be his companion for the next few months, at least.

He couldn't leave a bad impression.

"Ready, bro?" Ethan leaned on the door-frame, pressing his lips together as he gave his brother a pointed look.

"Just opened the gate for her." Ethan added, sighing as his brother kept up the silent treatment. While Ethan understood his brother's predicament and that this situation is far from perfect, especially to a romantic sap like Grayson, he lacked the feeling of guilt for giving him this opportunity. He had opened a door for him, the door he clawed at for a year now and hadn't made a dent, so yes, Ethan didn't feel even the slightest bit of guilt for getting his brother what he wanted, despite it being a less than perfect way. And yes, in this moment, Ethan felt grateful he chose college before acting, unlike Grayson who wouldn't even consider trying the academic way to his dreams.

"And you better get a smile going because she's doing us a bigger favor than we could ever do for her. You're the one benefiting here." Ethan glued himself from his position, walking over to the door he knew would be knocked on any second now, leaving Grayson to deal with his feelings a moment longer.

Ethan wouldn't let him fuck up.

And right on cue, Ethan was there just in time to open the door for her, moments before her fist connected with the wooden door.

"Oh, wow. Hi!" Ethan had seen her photos, many interviews and her previous work, but she never looked as beautiful on the screen as she did right before him. He stumbled over his words, secretly wishing he had gotten himself a sweet PR deal with her instead because he would love nothing more than a taste of her dark, pink lips - her signature lipstick.

"Sorry, I'm excited!" He offered a hand to shake, noticing her cold smile finally reach her eyes as if he had managed to melt a few inches of the iceberg inside her soul, even for a moment.

She gladly accepted his hand, her smile widening as he shook it vigorously.

"It's no problem really. I'm Mercy." She felt herself cringe with the use of the nickname they've pushed on her, trying to claim her as theirs - the public's doll for entertainment. But she figured it would be best if she kept her distance, after all, this was just a business arrangement...nothing more.

"Oh, Gosh, you're so nice." Ethan giggled to himself, certain he's completely red in the face and too eager looking. He had to reel his inner fanboy in and stop overwhelming his guest.

Y/N cocked her head to the left, eyes narrowing ever so slightly as she still held onto his hand, not minding the contact because the one thing you have to get used to in Hollywood is touching strangers, way too long and way past your preferred place. So, with that in mind, a hand-hold lasting a bit long because someone got a little excited didn't seem as bad. She's had worse.

"You're not Grayson." She stated plainly as if it's so obvious and unimaginably unmistakable to her.

It was Ethan's turn to realize he's still holding onto her slightly smaller, much colder hand in his for too long, but also to admire her observation skills. Not many people could tell them apart, much less when they've never met before.

"And you're right. And I'm holding your hand for too long, so I'm just gonna let go and go get my brother." Ethan smiles awkwardly, getting a nod on her behalf before letting her hand go - hers a little warmer than before and his a little colder. He walked backwards, sending her a weird wave, adding:

"Make yourself at home."

So, as Ethan left, nearly hitting a wall, Y/N looked around. First thing she noticed was the large wall painting right across from the door front, finding the blend of a cityscape and colors modern and appealing. That's until she gasped once her eyes found the expensive looking panther in the corner, scaring the life out of her.

In the meantime, Ethan had rushed into Grayson's room, finding him buttoning up a different shirt, a little sweatier than before and quite jittery.

"Bro, she's here! She's pretty and she's nice and her hands are cold!" Ethan listed, making Grayson stop, frowning deeply as he turned to look at his brother and the starstruck look in his eyes.

"Her hands are cold?" Grayson deadpanned, wondering what the hell is he talking about, and if his brother needed a good slap back to reality.

"Yes, Grayson, her hands are cold and you are always running warm, so go and charm her and hold her hands until they're warm." Grayson shook his head, letting out a heavy sigh as he nodded, refusing to keep questioning Ethan's sanity right now when his ticket to success was all alone in their living room. And apparently, her hands are cold.

"Take a chill pill, bro." Grayson whispered as he passed a crazed Ethan, feeling his legs turn to lead closer he got to where Y/N waited for him.

He tiptoed, stopping at the wooden barrier, silently watching her through the cracks. Never before had he seen the use in those wooden stacks between the hall and the living room, other than decorative, that is, but now he understood as it allowed him to take a quick peak and assess the situation without making himself too obvious and her too uncomfortable.

She stood with her back turned to him, her hand running along the shelves he built and always boasted about being earthquake proof. She wasn't overly dressed, not like most celebrities he had met. She looked almost...normal? Human? Something other than a pretty doll or a wicked witch the media painted her as.

"You know, I can tell you're there, right?" Her voice caused his heart to start an unhealthy pace, feeling it skip every few beats as if it's stumbling over itself.

"How did you know?" Grayson breathes out, stepping out and around the wooden mock wall, rubbing the back of his neck, hence showcasing his sweaty pits. She frowned slightly at the boy before her, taking in account that he not only scratched his neck and sweats like crazy, but avoids eye contact and talks like a frail old lady as well. He's nervous and jumpy and that's not what she needs right now. And while most people would tiptoe around the subject or ignore it entirely, Y/N wasn't the type.

"You're a mess and what I need right now is a man who can put on a convincing show and use his acting skills to make the public believe I'm an angel sent from above and that he's madly in love." She stated, her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes unblinking as she waited for Grayson to look at her.

Which he did, right after he tensed up as if she was a cold shower he desperately needed - blunt and unforgiving as the cold.

"Can you be that man or do I need to go somewhere else?" She asked, not blind to the way he had swallowed thickly nor how he gave her an awkward nod.

"Words, Grayson. I need you to say it and I need you to mean it." She insisted, placing her right foot a few inches forward, finding a balance to give him the proper scrutinizing look.

Grayson cleared his throat, forcing himself to keep eye contact with this girl who had an incredible presence, an undeniable charm and very sharp claws. Some women talk a lot and still don't say enough, but Y/N needs only to look you in the eye and you know exactly what's on her mind.

"I can do that. I will do that." He emphasized, making sure there's no mistaking his intent. He isn't the type to back down from a challenge and most certainly not one that would benefit him so greatly. His father always taught him to keep his word and never give empty promises. And he gave her his word already.

She smiled with his underlying promise, clapping her hands together only to clasp them and bring them under her chin as if to support the smile on her lips, as if she's not used to a simple, lighthearted kind - only the heavy, ice dripping smiles that had a particular effect on people. Some were chilled by it, others mesmerized, but Grayson? He saw through it, through her. That wasn't a smile from the heart, but one from her head and people who are ruled by their mind were always much more dangerous and calculating that people like him - people who trusted their heart.

"Great! So, I suppose you're familiar with the terms of our agreement?" She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, stepping closer to him with a raised eyebrow, but Grayson seemed oblivious for that step closer had lead her right into the one spot in the entire room the sun reached, giving her an ethereal glow and he finally understood his brother's erratic behavior - she looked like magic, like art - a true beauty, despite the lack of her usual glam she had in all her photos. She wasn't what he expected - a little colder, brittle like glass and perfection incorporated, just like one of those artifacts with 'Do Not Touch' signs placed in front of them. But glass is only brittle until it breaks, changing itself into something much more dangerous - something sharp and ready to draw blood.

"I'm fucked." Grayson mumbled under his breath, incoherent for her to understand, but clear enough for his heart to feel the pain breaking through time and space - all the way from the future. He knew he'd have a hard time saying goodbye when the contract was up, certain it would be as easy as breathing for her.

"Excuse me?" She interrupted his inner turmoil, stepping out of the sunlight and taking his warm hand into hers.

"Your hands are cold." Grayson stared at their hands, clasped together as if it's the only way it should be. He stared at the way her lips parted with that notion next, only to allow himself the gift of looking into her pretty eyes.

"They always are." She shrugged, trying to pull her hands out of his, awkwardly looking away only to look back with a sharp intake of breath once she found resistance to her attempt to create some distance.

"Think we should practice." Grayson mussed, smirking as her cheeks turned a shade darker, knowing he had made this doll blush.

"For the public? Plus, I promise to keep your hands warm." Grayson winked, carefully studying her face for any signs of discomfort, finding none but a blank canvas with dark pink cheeks matching her lips.

"Sure. I suppose it will do us good considering we need to go on our first date now." She offered him a shy smile, one so out of character in comparison to the woman-in-charge facade she put up at first and Grayson just knew...if he could only melt her heart, nothing - not heaven, nor hell Hollywood is comprised of, would keep them apart.

Tags: @xalayx @dolandolll @godlydolans @dolanstwintuesday @peacedolantwins @maybgrayson @nowheredolan @graydolan12 @beautorigin @justordinaryjen @starrydolan @pitreshawn