#but it's difficult considering how deeply he feels. once you're friends with him he's much more approachable and free with his emotions tho

[pettyeti]

Bold what happens ♥ Italic what sometimes happens

DEFENSIVENESS.

arms crossed on chest / crossing legs / fist-like gestures / pointing index finger / karate chops / stiffening of shoulders / tense posture / curling of lip / baring of teeth / tail lashing / pinned ears / intense look

REFLECTIVE.

hand to face gestures / head tilted / stroking chin / peering over glasses / taking glasses off to clean them / putting earpiece of glasses in mouth / pipe smoker gestures / putting hand to the bridge of the nose / pursed lips / knitted brows / lip chewing / hand on chin

SUSPICION.

arms crossed /sideways glance / touching or rubbing nose / rubbing eyes / hands resting on weapon / brows rising or knitting together / lips pressing into a thin line / strict unwavering eye contact / wrinkling of nose / eyes narrowing

OPENNESS + COOPERATION.

open hands / upper body in sprinters position / sitting on edge of a chair / hand to face gestures / unbuttoned coat / tilted head / slouched shoulders / relaxed posture / feet pointed outward / palms flat and facing outward

CONFIDENCE.

hands behind back / hands on lapels of coat / steeped hands / smirking / baring teeth in a grin / rolling shoulders / tipping head back but maintaining eye contact / chest puffed up / shoulders back / arms folded just above navel

INSECURITY + ANXIETY.

chewing pen or pencil / rubbing thumb over opposite thumb / biting fingernails / hands in pockets / elbow bent / closed gestures / clearing throat / “ whew ” sound / picking or pinching flesh / fidgeting in chair / hand covering mouth whilst speaking / poor eye contact / tugging pants of clothes / jingling money in pockets / tugging at ear / perspiring hands / playing with hair / swaying / playing with pointer or marker / smacking lips / sighing / rocking on balls of feet / flexing fingers sporadically / chewing on lip / pacing

FRUSTRATION.

short breaths / “ tsk ” sounds / tightly clenched hands / fist-like gestures / pointing index finger / running fingers through hair / rubbing back of neck / snarling / revealing teeth / grimacing / sharp eyed glowers with brows drawn together / shoulders back, head up / clenching of jaw / grinding of teeth / nostrils flaring / heavy exhales / tail lashing / pinned ears

tagged by: @duskmother -- tyyy

tagging: anyone who wants to do this C:

[moonsaver]

Consider... Dr. Ratio getting a (yandere?) crush on a student from a different department. Not one of his students. Meet-cute without his stone head on so the student doesn't know he's *that* professor. Poor student has no idea who their new friend is they're opening up to

My favorite request thus far! Im gonna try my best, anon.

I imagine it happens when student reader is running an errand and has to go to the different department for it, and Dr Ratio is someone they meet along the way in a bit of a secluded corner, tapping his foot and thinking deeply, maybe even saying things out loud to himself when student reader chimes in and asks about it. One thing leads to another and you actually end up getting along.

I imagine it happens again, once in a while, every two weeks or so, and Dr. Ratio doesn't quite introduce himself – he probably assumes as a student you're well aware of things, and just doesn't feel the need to, since both of you just talk enough to problem-solve and share opinions and facts. It only starts to dawn on him that you probably don't know him until you bring up one of your classmates who transferred departments talking about their professor with an alabastor head that has no mercy at all. His eyebrows are slightly furrowed as he contemplates whether he even wants to tell you.. but he likes the arrangement both of you have. It's enough that both of you are meeting like this, no? You don't need to know who he "really" is.

And by that time, he doesn't realise just how much he actually likes your company. You open up to him in a leisurely manner, and he's.. pleasantly surprised. Considering Dr. Ratio, I imagine he doesn't actually have people confiding in him, or talking to him normally, since his mind is constantly racing. This change of pace with someone who actually understands him is enough to keep his attention.

Of course, he needs to tone down his own prodding and pushing. Technically speaking, even "if" he's taken a "bit" of a liking to you, you're still not his student.. it's a pity.

He knows the exact classes you could thrive in, the course material he's sure you would devour, and the exact assignments he's recently sent out to his students that he knows you'd accomplish well. Sometimes during your conversations, he throws in a few topics and suggests that.. ahem, Dr. Ratio's course covers thoroughly. It feels weird to refer to himself in third person, but he adjusts naturally, and he has to stop himself from immediately getting on the defensive when you point out your own issues with his infamously rigorous course.

Of course, it has nothing to do with the fact he wants to see you more often, even if it means you'll recognize him as a professor with his alabastor head on instead of your new friend that's a bit eccentric. He would love having you as a student, just the potential you have is enough to excite him. The smile on your face after you solve a difficult problem, your rambling about the amount of homework your useless professors have drowned you with, the chirp in your voice as you call out to him in greeting, still unsure of what his name is.. surely, management won't say anything if Dr. Ratio himself takes matters into his own hands and transfer you into his department?

And when you turn up to his office, his alabastor head is on as he effortlessly shoots down any of your protests.

But.. if you continue being uncooperative, fine. Go back to your own department. It doesn't take much to sabotage, Veritas has learned. Just a bit of setting up is enough to ruin your assignments, destroy some of your projects, tarnish your reputation among your professors.. it's simple. Now, now.. instead of trying to problem-solve, why don't you just listen to that eccentric, strange friend of yours and join his department instead? He'll help you out thoroughly.

It doesn't take long after you've shifted departments, and you find out your strange new friend was your stubborn, unhearing professor.. now, it's a pity, but you'll have to stay after classes. Hm? No, no. He won't bother listening to you. You have a lot to cover, and now that he's not keeping any secrets from you, he wants to hear everything about you in thorough detail. Don't think about getting away, either. He'll talk with security and management to allow you to stay much further after hours. No one's willing to help you escape. Now.. there's so much material to cover, so let him teach you on a personal level. That should get you going more easily.

He decides on keeping his alabastor head aside, staring intently at you as you scribble away the mountains of assignments he's just given. You're not allowed to get distracted. If you even so much as lift your head to look aside from him, or your homework, he's quick to guide you by his fingers on your chin towards him, a scowl on his face. For goodness' sake, at least look at your professor if you want to stop writing. He's still your little friend, isn't he? How about you tell him all about that classmate you were getting so chummy with? Don't lie now – he saw everything. It doesn't matter that he's in a different department, it's better if he knows. You're both.. close,no? This is just something friends share with each other. Or do you need an extra lesson taught by him personally?

[insxghtt]

hot knife — ellie williams x reader

if Ellie is butter, then you're a hot knife.

warnings: fluff, lots of cursing (it's ellie), lesbians being really really gayyyy, ellie and reader are 18

based on a request. y'all needed it, i needed it, we all need this.

You were angry. Well, not angry like when someone tells you something you don’t really want to hear, or when someone messes with someone you deeply care about, or even when someone is trying to tell you what to do. No, this was a different type of angry. Something you have never felt before. 

It was like when you have a dog and this dog that you love so much only cares about someone else. Shit, you’re the one feeding it, you’re the one who covers that ungrateful dog with a blanket when it’s snowing outside, you’re the one who loves and would do anything to protect that dog when someone tries to hurt it, or kidnap it, or some shit like that. 

Of course, Ellie was not a dog. It’s not like you were comparing her to one, no. That would be just superficial and kind of mean, honestly. You cared about Ellie more than you would care about a dog. Also, Ellie was so much better than that. She was perfect. Every detail of her was just beautiful to you. You weren’t angry at her. You were angry at yourself for feeling like you were invisible every time she looked at her. 

Dina. 

Why did Ellie had to pay attention to every word she said? Why did she seem so happy when Dina talked to her? Most importantly, why did you care so much? It’s not like Ellie was your girlfriend. She was your best friend. Wasn’t it enough? 

Apparently, no, considering how shitty you felt when you saw Dina and Ellie laughing in the park while playing with snowballs. That morning, you were supposed to meet with her. You two made plans to have lunch together. Well, you didn’t plan that, but it became kind of a routine, so you though she would be waiting for you in front of your house like she always did. 

Ellie didn’t like to take care of herself. She was used to skip some meals and you were quick to notice it. Of course you would notice it, you were always looking at her. Since the day she arrived at Jackson for the first time. 

She was only fourteen then, but fourteen years were enough to make her tougher than the other kids. Tougher than you. You were more innocent than her then and that made it difficult for you two to connect. Yet somehow, you were able to sneak into her life. ‘If you are butter, I can be the hot knife’, you told her one time. That was the first time she laughed in front of you. Since that moment, you made it your goal to put a smile on her face at least once every single day. She deserved it. 

It hurt like hell when you realized you were not the only one doing it anymore. Dina was pretty, smart, confident. They made a good match if you look at it from any other point of view that it’s not yours. 

“You’re staring”, a voice next to you brough you back to earth. You didn’t have to look to know that it was Jesse. 

“You too.” 

“Do you think they’re like...”, he made a pause, obviously uncomfortable with the use of the word. “Lesbians... or something?” 

You raised your eyebrows and looked at him. “Is there a problem if they were?” 

“Well, I... No, it’s just that I...”, he stuttered. 

“You are unbelievable”, you sighed. 

“Hey!”, Ellie yelled when she saw you. “You!” 

She ran to you with a big smile in her face. For a second, you even forgot about that awful feeling. 

“I knocked at your door, but I guess you weren’t there anymore”, she stopped in front of you. Her cheeks were pink because of the cold. “Me and Dina went to sleep late yesterday, so I woke up late, and... you know.” 

Yes, of course, last night. When Dina and Ellie talked for hours and hours at the stable and you just decided to leave because it was just too much for you to handle. 

It was kind of funny how Jesse gulped when he heard Ellie saying that she and Dina were alone for hours. It obvious how much he liked Dina, but she didn’t seem to realize. 

“What were you two doing last night?”, Jesse asked. 

“They were doing drugs and making out, Jesse, that’s what they were doing.”, you said sarcastically. 

“Really?” 

“Oh my God...”, you rolled your eyes. 

“We were talking”, Dina explained to him while she was getting closer. 

He laughed nervously and nodded.  

“I’m sorry I made you wait”, Ellie said to you. 

“It’s fine.” 

You just shrugged and turned away, now heading to the bar where you usually had your lunch. Ellie looked at Dina without really knowing what to do. You didn’t sound fine. Dina gestured for her to follow you and that was what she did. 

You entered the bar with her. It was weird how distant you were, but she tried her best to stay positive. You saw Seth from far away and gave him a signal. He already knew you and Ellie pretty well. He didn’t exactly like you, but he liked Maria, Maria liked you and you liked Ellie. That meant free lunch every day. 

When you sat at one of the tables to wait for the food, she sat in front of you. 

“Listen, I found this movie in one of the patrols and I...” 

“That’s nice”, you interrupted her, staring at your hands. 

“Okay...”, she nodded. You were not interested in the movie. Alright. “So, I was thinking we could...” 

“Did you and Dina have fun last night?” 

She opened her mouth to answer, but Seth called your name before she could say anything. You stood up and walked to the man behind the counter. 

“Thank you, Seth”, you said before taking the two sandwiches. 

The man responded with a mumble. You didn’t look at Ellie when you gave her one of the sandwiches, but she still followed you when you walked out of the bar. 

“Can you slow down a bit?”, Ellie asked. 

It didn’t really make a difference. It took her a few seconds to realize where you were going. Your home. Something was off. You two usually had lunch in the park. When it was too cold, you went to her place because it was closer. 

When you finally arrived at your house, you didn’t ask her to come in. No, you entered the door and closed it behind you. Okay, that was just too much. 

“Hey, what the fuck is wrong with you?” 

“Oh, so now you care!”, you yelled too from inside the house. 

“What?”, she tried to open the door, but it was locked. “Did you just lock me outside your house?” 

There was silence for a few seconds. “No...” 

“The door seems pretty fucking locked to me!” 

You were being childish, and you knew it. With a sigh, you left the sandwich on the corner table and opened the door. Ellie stared at you, but she didn’t seem angry. No, she seemed... hurt? 

“Are you mad at me because I woke up late?” 

“Oh, fuck you! It’s not about that!” 

“Alright, then what is it?”, she crossed her arms, waiting for an explanation. 

You had no other option but to just deny it. 

“It’s nothing.” 

“Really? You think I'm gonna buy that?” 

“I don’t need you to, it’s the truth”, you shrugged. 

“So, you just ignored me and locked me out of your house for nothing?” 

“Maybe I didn’t see you.” 

“You did see me.” 

“Maybe it was the wind.” 

“The wind can lock doors now?” 

You really had no arguments, huh? 

“Maybe.” 

“Stop...”, she whispered. “Come on, let me in? It’s cold.” 

You sighed and gave her space to enter you house. When you closed the door, the silence filled the room. Ellie took the backpack off her back and looked for something in one of the pockets. You watched in silence as she took a VHS film and showed it to you. 

“This is what I was telling you about...” 

“Who the fuck is Donnie Darko?”, you read the name. 

“I was hoping to find out.” 

Why did she had to look at you like that? 

“Well, I think Dina will love it.” 

“Dina? Why would I...”, she seemed confused for a moment, but then it hit her. “Wait, are you jealous of me and Dina?” 

Jealous. Was that the word? 

“Fuck, no!” 

“Oh, my fucking God, you’re jealous!” 

“No, I'm not!”, you could feel your cheeks burning right now. “Why would I be jealous of you two?” 

“I don’t know, maybe you have a thing for her...” 

“I do not have a thing for her.” 

“You have a thing for someone then?” 

Her confusion was making you dizzy. You sighed and sat on the couch of the living room. 

“Okay...”, she was still trying to absorb that information. She felt weird trying to picture you with someone else. “Who is it then?” 

“Shut up, I don’t wanna talk about it.” 

“I think we are already talking about it, so...”, she looked at you. “It’s okay. You can tell me, you know?” 

“No, I can’t.” 

“Why?” 

“Because I can’t lie to you, Ellie.” 

“But you don’t have to lie... right?”, she said, and you finally looked at her with tears in your eyes. “Oh...” 

You didn’t have to say anything, it was too obvious. You were in love with her. The tears started to roll down your cheeks, and you didn’t try to stop them. It was done, you couldn’t go back in time. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Ellie was staring at the floor. Her silence was terrifying to you. What if she never talks to you again? All your worries were soon replaced by confusion when she let out a laugh. 

“You know what’s funny?”, she smiled and looked at you. “I spent a week with this movie in my backpack, scared that if I invited you to watch it with me you would realize I was asking you on a date.” 

She left the VHS tape in the center table. 

“And I really spent hours yesterday talking to Dina, describing to her everything I feel when you’re around, asking her if it would be too bad if I really did ask you on a date.” 

The way you looked at her made her heart melt. It was almost as if you were begging for that to be true. 

“So, is that what this is?”, you pointed to the VHS tape. 

“I mean, if you’d like that, then I guess it is”, she looked down, trying to hide the tears in her eyes. 

You nodded and stood up. 

“I do like that.” 

She stepped your way, your faces closer than ever. “Okay, then it’s a date.” 

You gave her a shy smile and paid attention to every single detail of her. Eyes, nose, lips. 

“It’s a date”, you whispered before leaving a soft kiss on her lips. 

[mehiwilldoitlater]

Who's going to save you from an unwnated marriage ( modern au):

Kaeya: Being friends with him since the beginning of your college years, it was almost impossible not to notice how deeply in love he was. He was charming with everyone; you two were just friends, right? But more than his own, he wanted your happiness. So, when you told him that you finally found a significant one, he smiled, as always, while crumbling inside.But he decided to keep his mouth shut; his love for you was enough to just let you go—until he found out how despicable your loved one was and how bad you were for each other. But you still hold on to the idea that, despite all that, you loved them just as much as they loved you. How sad was that? And how sad was it when Kaeya found out that you were getting married?One question came to his mind: did you want this?You said yes, for sure you do, but...did you really want to spend your life with someone who treated you so badly? That didn't value our feelings at all.Kaeya didn't want to just make them pay and make them suffer just as much as you; he wanted them completely defeated.On the day of the wedding, he'll show up, just as promised, just to remind you of all the bad things that have happened, how many dirty secrets they hold at your back, and to ask you if you really want all of this. It's your choice in the end, but he really hopes that you can choose him.

Diluc: He knows you're such a good soul that you can forgive every mistake and every bad deed from anyone. That's the main reason that he fell for you so hard! He wished he could have told you his feelings, but he was scared. He was scared to lose someone for whom he cared so much, just like his father. No, he preferred to have a broken heart than lose you for good, to be your good old friend Diluc, than a sad man who couldn't protect you from this cruel world. That was once he found out about their secret. He knows that no one is perfect—not even him, not even you, but them. How could they just hurt you so deeply and walk away like nothing happened? Didn't they have the heart to know how bad this is? And you! You've got such a good heart, but why let them treat you that way? And then there was the marriage proposal. He doesn't care if he loses his composure; no, he will never accept it! He doesn't care if he'll argue with you, interrupting the great message of their proposal to you! He doesn't care that he'll need to find a good detective just to finally get every proof that he needs to show you that they're not the good ones! He doesn't care if you hate him; the idea of seeing you with someone like them is worse than losing you.

Childe:To him, it was a game. It was always a game. They were perfect, and you? You were just so small and so simple. You almost gave up on them since they were so unreachable. Such a sad story. Yet, Childe hoped that, maybe, without the sun around him, his pretty little star would have finally started to consider him. He wanted you, but he loved the chase, and they were the perfect match that he needed. And he was fine when they got you as their beloved! He can take a break, after all, if you are satisfied, but then you started to call him in tears. It wasn't just one time; it happened a few—no, a lot, to be fair. That was what made him lose it. That was enough for Childe to finally make you understand that they weren't worth it to you and that they were not made for you. But you were so difficult, always so ready to forgive and forget... Childe didn't forget, never once, especially the day that they proposed to you, the same day that they suddenly disappeared. Childe will be there to wipe your tears and make sure you'll never find out the truth.

(( if someone is interested...send a name! Request are allwas open! I'm starting to like this concept))

[ryuseibutgayer]

hihi !! i'd love to participate in ur matchup game if ur still taking reqs ! i'd prefer characters from OHSHC (just no honey-senpai please) + haikyu <3

traits: im v shy and prefer listening to others talk !! i also try my best show kindness to all no matter what !! im also a silly lil creative hehe

toxic traits: stubborn, massiveee people pleaser, avoid confrontation bc of fear of abandonment, and struggle to express certain emotions

their traits: affectionate and funny !

their toxic traits: ok idk FJFKFJDJ ig idc too much about possessiveness as long as it isnt extreme yk

goal: honestly just to be able to understand each other rly well at a v deep/intimate level

preferred time: night !! bc everyone goes quiet and the world becomes so peaceful :]

tysm !!<3 sending love to u !

My apologies for the late response my sweet lovely little anon 😭 I had a hair appointment. I hope these results find your appreciation and that something eases your mind today 🥺 from your analysis, I somewhat assumed you're an overthinker and I wish I could assure you but alas...you're Anonymous 😭💀 just remember you're a very kind person! Sending my love back, mwah <3

The balance between you and your matches is perfect and cancels out the flaws one party has with another. He cares for you deeply on an immaculately understanding level, and he doesn't run out of energy. Not from the start of the day, when you wonder if he'll still find himself so sweet to you as he interrupts your thoughts with a soft and loving smile, already questioning you about if you're well, and his affection doesn't stop, even by the peaceful dead of night, no matter how tired either of you may be from everything. It's no longer nights you overthink or worry about who isn't pleased with how you've been to them that day, it's now nights that your thoughts are reassured by someone who will tell you the truth, no matter what you're trying to get across, because he'll understand.

»»————-　♡　————-««

HAIKYUU!!

Tadashi ALSO being a rather shy type, you two would just grow close in the quiet corner of the loud gym, because you both need SOMEONE to talk about how crazy Tsukki and Bokuto are, right? You two would find yourselves making quite a lot of easy, flowing conversations throughout the school year. (It's nice that you were one of the only people that were kind to him...the people that didn't try and give him a concussion with a volleyball.) On campus, it's probably a lot of current drama or annoying tests and such, but off of school grounds or over summer vacation, there's a lot of stars and uncovered scars, yknow? He's all there to find anyone to share is thoughts with, as self kept as this little bean is. The more you two talk casually, the more he'll understand how you feel without you needing to express your distinct emotions. You will find he won't take it once his limits are pushed, however... he won't care who it is, even if it's Tsukki who's crossed the line with himself or you, he's not going to stand for it. He wouldn't leave you to be on your own with the crowd in what feels more like an empty, desperate room for the world, and Tadashi will lead your head out of the stress- whether you say it or not. You'll find peace together. :)

OURAN HIGH SCHOOL HOST CLUB

Kaoru couldn't help but get a little pissy at his brother whenever he'd come your way and embarrass you a bit with his joking, as good of friends the two of you were of course. He isn't considered very good when it comes to dealing with abandonment either, while he can't compare it to your experience, he can understand the fear of it, as he could never imagine its weight. Being the more mature and comforting twin, he's finding himself searching for a bit of peace of mind quite frequently in the midst of the chaotic host club- feigning a brother romance is tiring. 🫷😭 He understands its difficult to express some things, but he can tell a lot just by looking at you. He finds himself only able to try and reciprocate your kindness, and not asking you to go into the trouble of expressing what's going on, he feels it and he just wants to show you that he doesn't need to know what it is to comfort you. Kaoru is the type of person to never leave a single person in his life, even if it kills him one day. He's glad he won't have to worry about where he's going to end up by following you, because he knows that at the end of the day, you're the only peaceful thing he knows he'll have...sorry Hikaru.

»»————-　♡　————-««

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 57 }

wish i were her.

akira kurusu x fem.reader

he always seemed so happy when she was around.

but really, who could blame him?

ann takamaki had to be the one beauty akira had been searching for, and there was no way you could ever compare to her.

yet still, your friends urged you to confess to him, that he would be stupid and blind not to return your feelings.

if only you weren't tasked with being his tutor, then maybe you wouldn't have fallen so deeply for him.

you recall your first meeting with him as if it just happened yesterday. shujin had recently opened its tutoring services in the library for students who were struggling with their classes, and you happened to be one of the tutors hired. you were able to tutor in a variety of subjects, but your strengths were seen in mathematics and science.

one afternoon, you were settled on one of the tables, pouring over your own notes in preparation for your own exam when the once silent library became filled with whispers as someone walked in. you thought nothing of it, debating if you should grab your headphones and study within the sanctuary of your music had it not been for a voice calling out your last name.

your gaze follows the voice, only to be met with startling grey eyes and unruly locks of hair. his lankiness and the way he pushed up his glasses was undeniable. you knew who he was almost immediately.

akira kurusu, the second year transfer student who harbored the most troubling reputation-

and you weren't sure if you were brave enough to associate with him. you move around your seat in a bit of an uncomfortable fashion, seeming to feel too exposed, too vulnerable beneath his gaze.

as if he could read your thoughts and look deeply into you, knowing how much you were judging him as pinpricks of shame makes the heat rise into your cheeks.

yet still, akira says nothing despite knowing what you thought of him and takes out a sheet of paper, displaying a horrendous exam grade on his biology exam. "as you can see, i'm in desperate need of help." he clears his throat, cheeks turning pink with his own embarrassment while running a hand across his hair. "but if you're uncomfortable with tutoring me, then i suppose i could try and do better on my own."

how callous could you possibly be, actually considering not helping this student when it was your job to do so? you shake your head almost vehemently, sliding out the chair next to you so that he could take a seat, "of course i'll help you, kurusu."

despite being in the same year as him, it actually came to be quite advantageous, as you could show him your own notes and compare them to his exam answers. you were able to carefully explain the concepts, and akira seemed to understand them better.

and that was how it all began.

after your sessions, akira would show you his progress and how much his grades had improved. he would flash you a beaming smile all while handing you pages of pages of his exams, allowing you to see his near perfect scores on each and every one of them. the first time you had seen his smile, you felt your chest squeeze almost painfully within your chest and a strange emotion eventually overtake you.

it was then that you realized that you had fallen deeply in love with akira. despite being so young, you couldn't stop your emotions from overflowing each time you saw him. perhaps akira had finally gotten the hang of his classes, since your tutoring sessions slowly became a rarity, with you only seeing him once a month instead of your daily and weekly meetings.

you desperately wanted to get closer to him, but it was difficult to do so. you didn't share the same homeroom with him, and most of your time was spent tutoring other students. coupled along with those issues, you couldn't ignore the fact that akira was usually seen walking around campus with ann.

the sight of which quickly dashed your hopes of getting closer to akira.

ann takamaki, the envy of yourself and the rest of the girls at shujin academy. whereas most of the other girls were envious of her beauty, you were mainly envious of how she had managed to capture akira's attention. sure, you had seen akira with his plethora of other friends, but something about ann struck you as her being special to him.

a feat you could never hope to achieve.

as the days quickly morphed into months, you realized that it was finally february. you were so busy trying to ignore your own heartache that you buried yourself in schoolwork and tutoring sessions all while your friends quickly urged you to confess to akira come valentine's day. they ignored your belief that he was dating ann, a bit too confident that they were just good friends before giving you a list of all the shops that still sold some quality chocolates if you didn't have time to make your own.

but you refused to buy any chocolates for him. feeling a bit more confident in your friends' reassurances, you figured that if you were going to confess to him, then it'd be better if it came from the heart. you had made homemade chocolates a few times before, but lost the nerve to give it to the one that held your affections, always managing to talk yourself out of it at the last minute.

but you were determined to change this time around.

just a week before valentine's day, you bought all of the necessary ingredients and carefully crafted your chocolates, making sure they had the right amount of sweetness without being too overwhelming. you crafted each and every one of them with care all while placing them in a heart shaped box. once you were satisfied with the amount of chocolates, you closed the box and wrapped it carefully in a ribbon that had your favorite color with a love letter addressed to him enclosed on top.

everything was perfect, and you were ready for him.

when valentine's day came, you decide to skip waiting in your classroom, feeling somewhat nauseous at the sight of all the red and pink hearts that decorated the school. your steps were uneven, and upon realizing how you didn't see akira anywhere was when you began to get worried.

your search for him leads you to go outside, when you saw a brief flash of his messy hair heading towards the vending machines outside. filled with a newfound excitement, you clutch the box of chocolates close to your chest and follow him.

his name was on the tip of your tongue when the sight of a girl with blond hair was seen flinging her arms around him. she was crying tears of happiness all while akira returned her embrace, causing a feeling of coldness to course through you.

rejection filled your veins, and you quickly turned away from the lovers seemingly caught up in their own little world. akira whispers what you assumed to be his own declaration of adoration for her, but you couldn't tell for sure due to the blood that was rushing through your ears. the tears made it difficult for you to see, but you were sure you had enough strength to toss the chocolates you had made for akira inside the nearest bin, not daring to look back.

it was then that you decided to skip school that day-

but little did you know, had you gained the confidence to go through with your confession, you would have seen how someone saw you and tried to stop you. you would have seen the way they reached out to you, all while murmuring treasure from beneath their breath as they carefully lifted your gift out of the trash and into the safety of their arms.

------♡

your friends never mentioned the valentine's day incident to you ever again, apologizing for their mistake while making it up to you by giving you all of your favorite snacks in hopes of helping you cheer up.

and you were grateful that they ignored how today was white day, the day meant for those who received valentine's day gifts to reciprocate. you spent lunch with your friends and spoke about your plans for summer before going on with your day. everything was completely normal, and your heartache over what had happened a month ago didn't bother you as much anymore.

in fact, you were doing a great job ignoring your feelings-

that is, until you saw akira, seemingly waiting for someone outside the library.

you didn't have any appointments, but had some homework to do, simply to get ahead of the syllabus. you briefly considered ignoring him and just walk in, but decided against it the moment your stomach began to twist at the thought of seeing him.

i guess i have to suck it up and study at home then.

you turn around, believing you had successfully avoided him when you hear him call out your name.

"hey, wait a minute!"

you were left frozen in place, gathering your courage when you turn around and look at him. you wanted to keep your gaze neutral, but knew that it probably came out as a grimace instead.

"can i help you with something, kurusu?"

your voice was cold, catching him off guard for a brief moment. you watch as he swallows thickly, running a hand across his hair (a habit you realized he did whenever he was nervous) when he finally says, "can you come to shinagawa with me? a-an aquarium just opened up and i figured i could take you."

by now, your brows were furrowed together in confusion, until something dawned on you. "listen, if this is some white day bullshit, then you don't have to worry about it because i didn't give you anything."

you forced yourself to ignore the hurt expression that crosses his features. "i-i know you didn't, but still, i wanted to take you somewhere. don't you want to take a break?"

you hesitate when it came to answering him. just why was he so dead set on taking you to an aquarium? as you pondered on what to say to him, he takes your silence as an answer and begins holding hands with you, leading you out of shujin. "come on, we're going."

despite how much your mind was screaming at you to pull your hand out of his, your heart was telling you otherwise. your stupid heart kept beating erratically out of your chest, and you truly couldn't fight back the desire to simply be close to him.

oddly enough, there weren't any signs of ann, or any of his other friends around. you simply allow akira to take you to shinagawa, remaining silent throughout the whole trip to the aquarium.

upon arriving, akira pays for your entry inside. you quickly felt your resolve and hardened heart quickly softening once you were surrounded by the majestic beauty of all the colorful fishes being bathed in an aquamarine glow. your giggles were infectious, your delight evident in the way your eyes shone all while taking in all the beauty the aquarium had to offer.

you and akira end up stopping near an area where a school of fishes were swimming around in. becoming mesmerized by them, you felt as if they were beckoning you to come closer to them. you allow your fingertips to press against the cool glass all while murmuring, "how beautiful."

"yeah, beautiful." akira finally admits out loud, yet when you turn back to look at him, you realize that his gaze wasn't on the fishes, but on you.

feeling shy all of a sudden, you allow your back to press against the glass. "so, was this date because of white day?"

akira doesn't answer your question, his face turning pink as he looked away from you and asks, "are you getting hungry? i made reservations somewhere that i think you'd enjoy."

you were about to call him out at how he refused to answer your question, but ultimately decided against it since you were feeling quite hungry. with a sigh, you keep your hands tied together behind your back, stepping closer to him as you told him that you were starving and that he could lead the way.

once he got your permission to take you out to eat, a tiny smile paints his handsome features, and he manages to surprise you once more.

you figured he would take you out to some ramen bar or that one place that served all those beef bowls-

what you weren't expecting was akira making reservations at a high-end restaurant, complete with all the delicious foods you could only hope to try in your dreams. while you ate, you felt akira's gaze on you, his stormy grey eyes never leaving yours as he seemed to have some ongoing debate in his mind. his stare was what makes you stop eating, placing down your fork as you asked him if anything was bothering him.

akira quickly shakes his head, taking a sip from his glass of water. you simply shrug at his answer, about to dig in to your food once more when a sudden announcement was heard.

"ladies and gentleman, thank you for joining us on this special day. we wish you all an unforgettable evening, with one last finishing touch from us..."

"what...?" you trail off, suddenly seeing the thick red curtains lift before revealing the view of the city bathed in a rosy pink hue of light. they appeared to mimic the beauty of gemstones sparkling beneath the intimate lighting of the moon, taking your very breath away when you whisper "how achingly beautiful this is..."

"i have a gift for you." akira's voice suddenly cuts through your reverie, causing you to finally look at him when he presents a gorgeous bouquet of red roses for you to take.

still in shock from the sight of the city glittering like jewels at night, you accept his gift, quickly becoming drunk off of the scent of roses all while akira explains to you.

"earlier, i lied about not receiving your gift. i was there; i saw you running away from me all while throwing away your chocolates for me."

he appears sincere, reaching out to take a hold of your free hand while running his fingertips up and down your skin, "it really hurt to see you throwing away something i knew i would cherish, my treasure. you have no idea how hard it was for me to make your chocolates last, or the sheer amount of times i've read your letter addressed to me."

by now, your mind was spinning. had you wrongfully assumed akira was already in a relationship with ann?

"but, on that day, i saw ann embracing you. i just thought-"

he shakes his head, carefully taking a hold of your hand to press a kiss behind it, "that day, ann was just happy about how well shiho was recovering. she was just excited about being able to spend some time with her best friend again, that's all. i was simply sharing her happiness..."

"oh akira...!" you hug your bouquet close to you, leaning in to press a kiss against his lips. in the end, your feelings for him had won out, and you found no other way to convey how much you love and adore him. he returns your kiss with just as much passion, and you were both becoming enamored, being surrounded with the scent of roses.

you ask him if you could spend more time with him and apologize for being so cold when all you wanted was to be with him. you promised to find a way to make up for lost time and do something for him in the future to make him just as happy as he made you today.

yet when he hears your words, akira simply shakes his head and presses a kiss against your forehead before admitting, "you've already made me so happy with your gift, treasure. i am simply returning the favor, solely because i love you, too."

a.n. - did i write this solely because i have daydreamed about myself going on a white day date with akira after playing royal?? the answer should be an obvious yes (/ω＼)

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[allsadnshit]

it's truly difficult to remember you owe yourself love and understanding when you are going through lots of big and painful things in life! i used to think "as long as i am the only one getting hurt then it's fine" cause i considered myself nothing and everyone else something. i have gone really back and forth with my perspective and coping skills of big break ups, friends or romantic, and i feel like i am just not learning the middle ground between "wow if this person and i are breaking up then they must be so toxic and abusive so who cares fuck them anyways" and "i am not allowed to be angry i need to be peaceful and kind i should try harder to see their perspective or else i am deserving of these bad things" which are two perspectives that have done nothing for my healing or process.

i think maybe the biggest thing im learning about myself is that communication can't be replaced by anything else. you need to hear it straight from people just as much as they need to understand you too! there's definitely a limit on how helpful communication is without the necessary other things like action and reflection etc but i used to think "this isn't even worth saying or hearing" whenever i was faced with something hard and that's just not true.

i had a therapy session recently where i tried to play off an interaction with an old boss as "id rather just not talk with him than say what he did bothered me" and my therapist immediately called me out on the avoidance and lack of follow through on my own boundaries and feelings. i wasn't getting off easy by not being willing to have conflict or confrontation, i was actually forcing myself to swallow my own hurt and pain and in many ways betrayed myself by not speaking up. she had me write an apology letter to myself and i cried without a few sentences.

I am working to change these things. I used to think feeling hurt and admitting that meant you were weaker and lost. I just had a really hard conversation with one of my oldest friends and it ended with us breaking up! i didn't see it coming, and didn't think it was even on the table and it unfolded in front of me almost instantly when i decided to speak up on something that bothered me and it turned out he already felt deeply resentful towards me and called a lot of my behavior into question that i didn't know he had thought poorly of me about for years and years! it's going to be a long road of lots of mixed emotions now. i feel shameful and scared i have lost so many of my old friends in the last two years which have been the biggest growth and happiest i've ever been and it's so confusing to go through even though i am constantly reassured that's part of the ride!

i used to tell myself if everyone had something bad to say about you, then it must be true and you must be bad and deserve it.... and i think that was just an easy way out for me to feel guilt and sorry for myself cause that's easier than fighting it's easier than the work it would take to stand up for myself and believe my own experiences and emotions. i thought i was so mature and gentle for saying "you're right i guess i am just a bad person" and never once was that the solution.

i am going to take my time absorbing this experience! i am going to be confused, angry, sad, and probably a decent bit of mourning too! i will no longer deny myself that process and pretend i am better off without the people i loved! i will not pretend to wish them well and hold no bad feelings. it's time to do the hard thing and be mad be sad and be in this difficult process!

thanks for reading, i really love this blog. I feel it's so important to share be seen and understood by other people but i am also so hesitant to admit what i am scared of because i don't want to make myself vulnerable to being hurt even more but it's also a pathway to healing and letting go and that's worth the risks

[marvellovegalore]

Loving You

Chris Evans

Synopsis: Chris is over the moon, he's met you and life couldn't be better - you're all he's ever dreamed of and there's nothing you could do to ruin that.

Warning: explicit language, sexual content

No one in your industry would ever consider you difficult to work with, neither mean, arrogant, conniving or calculating. Most would go out of their way to praise you, proclaim their adoration for the movie star of dreams. On the other hand, your previous partners would. Ex-boyfriends that would bravely volunteer to be interviewed about your past relationship would recount their experiences with the same look as a shell-shocked soldier. If they could, they would gather in a support group for those left with deeply affecting, unresolved trauma - left by you.

You would deny it, if you could be bothered; or if the media had declared your heartbreaker ways to be of public interest. Which they are, but you’re largely untouchable therefore they're unreported. A Hollywood starlet, philanthropist, trend setter and tastemaker - alongside with being viewed largely as a sweetheart. Your childhood nannies coming in storming with adulations and saccharine recollections of a sweet and shy child. Friends that are more than happy to celebrate you on social media and fans who fill the internet with high production videos of you strutting on the streets and red carpets cement the idea that you are the moment, and you are loved.

To the world outside of the sphere of your ex-boyfriends, you were the most eligible bachelorette. There was no flaw in sight, no illusion to dispel or enchantment to break; you’re the real deal. Until you get bored, and you need to hurt someone. Because hurt people, hurt people. As the saying goes. There’s no need to go into that - just yet.

So, when Christopher saw you at the 2019 Vanity Fair Oscars after party, he fell head over heels. Your eyes cast a spell on him, and the enchantment was cast by the world’s master mage, you. You barely realised what you did, you were in no mood to flirt or truly fraternise. You were attempting to drown your sorrows of missing out on another Oscar win for the second time - in a mojito glass. You looked spectacular, possibly more than how you looked during the ceremony. But to Chris, your face of indignation looked like the angelic expression of a good second place loser with no hard feelings. He attempted to approach you, but too many people go into his way, they came with unprovoked film criticisms and pseudo interview responses that would get them into the academy board. All he wanted was to see your face up close and know how you spoke when you weren’t being regarded by a crowd of enraptured spectators.

He could see that you weren’t being left alone either, you hadn’t won the Oscar, but you are being treated as if you did. Your eyes bounce off of him every once in a while, but he couldn’t capture your attention - and then you left the party. You hardly made the French exit you were seeking. Stars old and young clamoured to say their goodbyes and kisses on your cheeks. You finally managed to escape. If Chris were to attempt to lie and say that he wasn’t disappointed, a blind woman could have seen right through him. His heart dropped, and he couldn’t explain why - he didn’t even know you.

Some other actor friends managed to drag him to a more intimate after party, the setting hardly intimate. A compound nestled in Hidden Hills, twenty-four-hour security circling the property, of one starlet who presented herself at the beginning of the night but chose an early slumber rather than socialising.

You came in half an hour after him, a miniskirt showing off your incredible legs - which were insured for an absurd amount.

His breath caught in his mouth. You were dressed down, but you looked too incredible to even try and claim you didn’t try. Everyone’s head turned and everyone was captured by the beauty at the door, accompanied by a friend. Your demure appearance fooling everyone into thinking that the attention was unwanted. You grabbed yourself a drink and half an hour later you were still enveloped with a group of equally intoxicated friends.

Though, Chris was determined to get your attention. He grabbed a drink off of the barman and slowly and easily made his way to you. The word ‘chill’ being chanted over and over again in his head. He was dead set on not making a fool of himself. Three steps away from you, glass of mojito clutched in his hands, his anxiety being beaten down and desperately suffocated into his stomach and away from his brain. He goes over his words, and before he finishes walking to you, you turn suddenly.

Your eyes pierce into his, a smirk glossing your lips. “Hi.” Your voice is low, characteristically different from your stage voice - your accent just as strong.

“Hey, got this for you.” Chris thrusts the glass into your unexpectant hand, some of the drink splashing out over the frosted rim. “Hope, it’s not too presumptive of me to have gotten it for you?” His eyes have glossed over, he shifts his weight from one foot to another. You shake your head no, a sweet smile playing at your lips. He’s even easier on the eyes much closer up. “Sorry you didn’t win that Oscar, real shame, I was rooting for you!”

You store it in the back of your mind that this man manages to look like a golden retriever even when he’s several drinks down, “It’s nothing, what does it mean anyway, I’ll still get more jobs in the future.” You take a sip of your drink after he takes a sip of his.

He compliments your eyes, your complexion and goes on an eager rant of how much he admires your capacity for acting. You drink in the adoration diluted by alcohol and take his words with a pinch of salt. After twenty minutes of solid, drunken conversation you’ve moved to a nook shadowed by statues. Your legs next to his on the red velvet sofa. You remark on the class of the artistic statues, clearly purchased illegally from a Mediterranean museum. He barely takes in your words, much preferring to intoxicate himself with the sight of you - and his fifth beer.

You’ve decided that you want him. Badly. But you’ve sussed him out. He’s not just going to be a one-night stand - in the animal kingdom he’s a Golden Retriever, and those aren’t dogs to be messed with. Your last fling was essentially a Doberman pinscher - discardable - but this Chris had to reeled in slowly.

You interrupt his musing about the Boston markets with a kiss.

Your lips smoothly capture his, your lipstick smearing over his lips. His hand presses tightly on the small of your back, arm underneath your waist holding you up higher. Stars explode inside your eyelids and his fingers grip tightly onto your shirt as your tongue licks his bottom lip. Your entry is granted, you lips pressing tighter against each other. Your eyelashes dance over his. Your hands rise to his face, your hands imprinting themselves onto his cheekbones. His hand brushes over the bare skin of your leg, his fingertips tracing the insides of your thighs. A small moan rises from the back of his throat.

The hold you have on him is cemented, you part away from him. You untangle yourself from him and stand up from the sofa, your eyes refusing to look at him, you smooth your clothes and slowly strut away from him.

Chris looks at the fire that you’ve set on his limbs in disbelief, he doesn’t grasp what you’ve just done. Did he do something wrong? Does he smell? No. You just didn’t care for the ceremony of the first ‘after-kiss’ moments.

He doesn’t see you for a year.

You truly are elusive - to the media and him.

He couldn’t get you out of his mind, and the fact that you starred in another award-nominated film did little to help him forget you.

You were curious to understand whether you really enticed him or not. You decided to not pursue that line of questioning, and never bothered to reply to his direct messages. It wasn’t done with the intent of hurting him, you just didn’t care. But life has a way of putting things in your way that deep down you didn’t know you wanted.

--

Nevertheless, here you are, with your boyfriend of a year - Christopher, sat across from you telling you story about his nephew. You simper, your eyes flitting between the sight of him and the view of the sea. The coast of Martha’s Vineyard enraptures you, you drink your wine, eyes steadily moving to the coastal view.

You grew up coming here. Your family often choosing the quiet island to rest in during the late spring holidays. You brought Chris back here to stay at your family holiday home as it’s not too far from his own family home, a perfect last stop after spending the week with his family.

He watches you curiously, his blue irises begging you to let him in to your thoughts. You refuse silently and beckon the waiter. You ask for the bill, it’s quickly on the table and you pay - ignoring Chris’ refusals. You smile at him, for the second time during dinner. He responds in kind, remarking on your bad mood and how he’s glad you’ve cheered up after having some food. He muses on the lovely weekend you’ve had together as you leave the restaurant. Candlelight following you as you make your exit with your hands holding each other tightly, his other hand in his preppy shorts.

You walk slowly, watching the sunset. His arm finding its way around your shoulders. His sweet and intimate embrace enveloping you in warmth. Your heart beats quickly against his bicep as you near your home. Your hands tremble for some reason and you practically sprint up the porch steps after you’ve crossed the gate and walkway, leaving Chris five steps behind you.

You open the door and make a quick beeline for the kitchen in the far back of the house. You enter the pantry, ignoring Chris’ questions of what is wrong. You take a bottle of Rosé out of the wine fridge and forgo pouring it into a glass and drink it straight from the bottle. It tastes incredibly sweet, and Chris finds you eventually in the pantry. He looks at you in surprise as you gulp the drink.

“Everything okay, baby?” He walks to you, his hands failing onto your hips, his adoring eyes almost boring into your soul. You refuse him entry into the pits of your emotions. Steeling yourself against the onslaught of therapy-like talk.

You don’t want him to know that hurt people, hurt people. And that you’re one of them.

You kiss him, silencing his calming words.

His fingers tighten on your sundress. The colour melding with the colour of his fingers. Your lips become one.

You go through the steps of getting out of the pantry in a seemingly choreographed dance, your dance ends in the smaller reception room; your bodies tangling themselves on the rug. Neither of you giving a care to fact that you’re undressing in front of the window overlooking the pool and coast.

The flickers of the setting sun’s rays highlight his now bare chest. He returns his lips to yours in a hypnotising kiss. Your hands dance with the muscles of his back as you caress his skin, his torso vibrating in between your legs with the fervour of his movements. Your dress is ripped off your body. He directs his attention to your right breast, his soft lips caressing your skin. His tongue lashes slowly against your nipple, you fight to hold back your moans as his hand lowers to your pussy. His fingers pushing aside your pants, his fingers sink into you like it’s their second nature. Your head rolls back as he makes love to you with his fingers and his lips lower down to where his fingers are. He licks you where you need him most, his love for you being written inside you with his tongue.

You orgasm. Slowly.

And all that runs through your mind is how much you’ll miss him.

You pull him up to you, you turn over and straddle him. Tasting yourself on his lips as the sun sets even lower. The waves crash against the shore violently as the wind picks up. You lower yourself onto him and start riding him, your hips bucking in an impassioned manner against his. He doesn’t hold back his moans as he caresses your breasts and stomach.

You realised you loved him four months ago, but every time you catch sight of his loving eyes when you’re fucking, it makes you fall in love all over again.

Chris switches and puts you on all fours, he grips your hair in his hands, the rising intensity making him grip you harder. His thrusts are merciless, his spare hand spanking you and stroking, you’re on the cusp of a sensory overload when he turns you over. On your back you have the most beautiful view. A strong ray of sunlight brightening his eyes as he makes love to you. His kisses are tender but intense. His hand grips onto yours, your fingers intertwined and his other hand griping onto your face.

A tear slips out of your eye, you wipe it away quickly. Your increased sensitivity makes the second orgasm come, Chris fucks you through your breathy moans and you throw your head back. Momentarily blinded by the bliss; the pink sky wakes up from the saccharine, cloudy state. Chris orgasms into you with four thrusts.

You push away from him and stand up; you pull on your silky pants. You sigh and leave Chris on laying breathless on the rug. You walk upstairs and enter your room. You use the toilet, wash your hands, have a glass of water and throw on a short black dress. As you pull on your boots Chris enters the room, a smile gracing his lips.

He pulls on some shorts, “Want to tell me what all that was about?” He gives you a confused expression as he lies back against the bed, taking one of the fluffed pillows from behind him and tucking it between his chest and arms.

Hurt people, hurt people.

You turn towards him, facing away from your walk-in closet. “When we fuck, I have to think about other men to get through it.”

His eyes widen alarmingly, he turns to you, the light of the tv making him blue. “Say that again?” The disbelief is almost tangible in his words.

“I feel embarrassed about being seen with you now. I feel I’m just too good for you.” You walk into the closet and you hear him stomp off the bed.

“No, rewind to what you first said.” His voice is louder, his features twisted with confusion and hurt.

“I have to think of other guys to get off,” your eyes connect with his, you don’t look away, you fight the smirk biting at your lips. “I can’t stand the thought of being with you any longer. I’m sick of it.” You grab the suitcase that was packed for you when you were at the restaurant. “Also, you’re not as ripped as you were when we met, there’s other guys that can provide that image for me.”

“Take it back.” The hurt he’s feeling is completely tangible now. “Take it back right now. Right. Now.” His eyes are pleading with you to have mercy.

You've decided that you've gone past the point of no return. “I’d be happy never have to see you or have to hear from you - ever again.” You scan his eyes, your heart swelling with an eerie feeling of pride as his eyes flood with held back tears.

“This must be some elaborate prank— “he chokes on his words, his hands reach for yours, but you step back.

“This year has been tedious, completely boring and I’ve gotten nothing but only ten decent fucks from you.” Not true, and both of you can attest to that, you've had the best sex, your mutual adoration is clear when you make love. So, Chris is at a loss to understand how this is all being said and happening. “I’m off to New York, stay as long as you like or don’t. I don’t care. Have a nice life.” You slip past him.

Taking his heart and soul with you.

He can’t stop the tears from ballooning in his eyes and then trickling down his cheeks.

He must be stuck in a nightmare. He doesn’t know how long he’s been pacing in this closet filled with your clothes, your smell haunting him.

He rushes downstairs and there’s no sign of you. He stumbles outside and there’s no sign of you or your driver. He rushes in to get his phone and calls you. Five times. The sixth time it goes straight to voicemail.

He feels his heart break.

He falls right in the spot he’s in. He vomits his heart out, the pieces being spat out onto the wooden floors. The blood shinning underneath the soft lights of the lamps.

He wants death. Slow and steady death.

——

Part Deux -

[rcksmith]

Felling — Five Hargreeves

Request: “Hi love could you maybe do #38 from the fluff prompts for Five where maybe Five is struggling with accepting the reader trying to be like romantic or affectionate with him !!! Thank you I love you !!!!”

Fluff Prompts:

38. “You say you hate it but your red face is telling me otherwise.”

A/N: We not tolerate any pedophilia here!!

I write about Five with their 20s. I write the same about the characters of Harry Potter.

I loved this request so much! I found it so cute and adorable!! ❤️ I hope it got close to what you wanted. I love you❤️

Here I used some fragments of Five's original chronology because it would help with the plot, but guys, keep in mind, please, that he is a 20 or more.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

Couple: Five Hargreeves/Fem! Reader.

Warnings: Just bad words, it is very fluff.

— — — — — —

The Hargreeves were a family full of wounds, trauma and deep-seated fears. They were trained to be super heroes. Strong, courageous, centered, perfect. And that was why no emotion could be on the way to that goal. Feeling love, passion, affection and affection was the gateway to becoming vulnerable. And a superhero couldn't be vulnerable. So they were denied that their whole lives.

Within each one pulsed a different problem, a different trauma. Denying love to a child only made him develop complications to connect with his emotions, feel empathy and be able to deal with different contrasts in a healthy way.

The Hargreeves brothers' lives were not easy, but some of them found, in the beginning, a way to connect with different types of love; Luther and Alissom for each other, Diego for the maternal love, Klaus and Ben in the partnership and complicity for each other. Vayna found her way in love for her brothers when her biggest internal problems were resolved.

But Five... well, Five was alone in the abyss of the apocalypse.

He did not have a chance to mature his feelings, deal with his psychological and transform the various traumas into something productive and healthy. Then, in the midst of loneliness, devastation and chaos, Five just threw his feelings under the rug until, like his childhood brothers, they stopped harassing him.

As they never had the opportunity to mature, those sensations remained on a primitive level. And his complications to bond with his emotions became even more broken when Five had to kill for the Commission.

Facing death and being the author of such devastation was not a mild endeavor. The smell of death was still in the air if Five stopped to concentrate on breathing, and the murder scenes were still fresh in his mind when he slept. But, just as Five did with any feeling, he just pushed them under the rug once again.

He didn't want to deal with them. They brought, for Five, pains, fears, weaknesses and a constant reminder that, perhaps, he... had failed in many things. And Five hated seeing himself as a failure.

And that was when he came home. And even when the waters have calmed down, when the winter breeze gently touched his face, when he can rest, dealing with feelings was something he still repudiated.

But that's when Five met you, and his whole world was turned upside down. When you first looked into his eyes, fierce, warm heat swept through Five's body, from the top of his head to his toes. The heat immediately gave way to a cold sweat.

Five thought it was just a second of madness, in which his system had given a blue screen for something else, not for you. But as soon as you smiled at him, there was a quick feeling of being stabbed near the diaphragm or in the belly. His composure didn't waver an inch, but he felt like he couldn't breathe.

The situation took on unimaginable proportions. You are going the Hargreeves mansion a lot times , since, what has been said, you were friends with the brothers, and Five lived lost in an agitated sea of ​​exasperating feelings whenever he was near you.

You were brilliant as the sun, smiling as happiness, beautiful as masterpieces and stunning as the evening. You were the personification of…Perfection, was the Five thought at the time. And it almost broke his heart, because he could never have you for himself.

Five couldn't because, as much as he refused to admit it, wouldn't know how. He couldn't because the whirlwind of emotions was a fierce scream that caused a stir in his mind. Five looked at you and saw a masterpiece - sublime and human art at the same time - and he didn't know how to name those emotions. And now, unexpectedly trapped by the intensity, Five was unable to reason properly when he was close to you.

All he could see was an excessively beautiful girl who was standing in front of him as something he wanted very much. And if you understood the state Five was in whenever you talked to him, you would have stopped at the first sentence. No, if you really understood, you would end up running as fast as you could. But you could not understand what Five did not understand.

So he preferred the loneliness of the apocalypse to those emotions that made him feel hot and cold at the same time, which seemed like his stomach was filling with birds, all beating their wings and trying to escape, and then his hands started to shake.

Five didn't know what it was all about, a mixture of emotions; attraction, passion, an overwhelming desire to touch you. But even if he knew how to name it all, he wouldn't know how to act. Five was a genius, he could solve the biggest equations about space and time with his eyes closed, but as a lover, however, he put his feet in his hands.

Five never thought of the most tender emotions without coldness and objectivity, they were great to justify the actions of human beings. But you have revoked absolutely everything.

Over time, it started to hurt physically in Five not to touch you, not to succumb to the most overwhelming wills. And then, one night he took refuge in a bottle of vodka, you walked in the door and it was the end for Five. He got up from the bar, came to you in determined and firm steps, and, sending everything to hell, held your face in his hands and kissed you as if he wanted to do this for a lifetime. Maybe more.

You were the opposite of Five. It was as if you were the heat and he was the ice, day and night. You burned like summer heat and Five burned like winter cold. You were everything Five was not: extroverted, agitated, knew how to deal with emotions very well, you were passionate, caring, loving, you loved physical contact. So when you returned the kiss, Five felt himself burning with your warm touch.

You wrapped your fingers around the black strands on the back of his neck, letting him put your bodies together and the kiss started to heat up. And then you said:

“You're beautiful.”

And that's where Five fell in love with you. He fell in love because when you took a breath and looked into his eyes when you said that, he felt like you could see the depths of his soul, all the secrets, all the sins, all the fears. You knew him, deeply.

Five was no longer able to stay away from you after this event. He always chose your side at a table, he was very less acid in conversation whit you were. And when you two played chess, and he let you win on purpose just to see your happy smile and your eyes shining, he knew was in trouble.

While Five tried to deal with so many new emotions and so many traumas, you were the opposite. You have been in love with him for so long, even when you saw his painting on top of the fireplace, you felt something different. So when you two kissed, came closer, you let your feelings out.

You were a loving person by nature, you loved hugging people, physical contact. You were an incorrigible romantic and, to be honest, you loved being like that. You loved feeling too much.

So with Five it was no different. You liked holding hands, hugs, more tender kisses and also quick hello kisses or bye. You loved touching physically, either way. But being like that taught you that many people didn't taste the same as you. And in the case of the Hargreeves, so broken and lost, dealing with feelings was not easy, especially to express it physically.

But with Five it was… more difficult.

He was very reserved, controlled, closed. You felt perfectly when he went rigid whenever you touched him: any affection on the arm, kiss on the cheek when you had to go to college, hugs.

You started to think that maybe he didn't like you that much or didn't want something serious, but Five was always looking for you. Whether showing up at your apartment, in your room, or going to be near you at the mansion or kissing you. So you ended up realizing that he just didn't handle feelings well.

It was very cold that night, you were in your room with the books and college notebooks on the bed, trying to solve some calculus equations, otherwise you would end up repeating in that subject. Your head was already pounding and you were getting frustrated, it was definitely not for you and your desire was to hit your head on the book and give up.

“What a nightmare.” You mumbled.

“What a nightmare?”

The voice at your side made you scream out in fright, turning to the left and seeing Five standing on the edge of your bed. The distilled moonlight came in through your open window and bathed the man in front of him with a builder in his black hair and alabaster skin, you held your breath, Five was always so beautiful that he should be considered a crime.

His hands were in the pockets of his dark pants, followed by the shirt and blazer from the Academy uniform. Five looked at you with a small condescending smile in the corner of your mouth, and you felt your heart pounding.

“Ah, it's just a college subject.” You sighed, looking at the notebooks in front of you “It's a nightmare.”

Then Five leaned forward, looking closely at your notes.

“You know where you went wrong, don't you?”

You jaw dropped, and you turned to the notebooks with your calculations. That was the only exercise that you thought was correct.

You felt frustration rising from your feet to your head, snaking through your body. You snorted, running your hand through your hair, it had been hours since you tried to understand that misfortune.

“I will never graduate, that's it. I accept the defeat of the God of mathematics.” You grunted, leaving the pencil on top of the books, giving up.

Five laughed softly, sitting beside your bed, still far enough away not to touch you.

“Give me the pencil.” He pointed to the object and you handed it over.

You frowned when Five pulled your notes to him, balanced the pencil in your other hand and redo your calculations at the end of the sheet.

You should have paid attention to what Five was doing, at each step, but the truth was that you got lost looking at him. The winter breeze shook his black strands as if they were a cloth from the night sky, his emerald green eyes were focused, and a slight crease on his forehead indicated that he was concentrating.

Your heart raced, the world seemed to stop breathing and the air took on a caustic and magical intonation. You would show all your shadows if Five showed his, you would do anything to show how sublime he was.

Then Five looked up at you, and the hemisphere seemed to make sense that second. So you leaned over and kissed him. You kissed because there was no cell in you that didn't want to kiss him. Because Five was a young god and you were just a mortal surrendered to his charms.

But you felt his muscles go rigid, the spontaneous physical contact catching him off guard.

Five burned in contradictions. It burned in the hot fire of passion and burned in the icy heat of feelings. Your touch was potent and had an overwhelming effect on Five.

He wondered what would happen if he had sex with you at that moment. Would he burn in your heat or would he be consumed by troubled emotions? Would he feel every part of your body pulse or would he lose himself in the confusion of his own mind?

Five gently parted his lips, still close enough for his breath to hit your lips.

“I feel your tension. Everything is fine.” You commented quietly.

Five just breathed, his eyes confirming to you what his words didn't say.

“I'm sorry for everything you've been through.” You were sincere, and cautiously put your hand under his. “But you have to understand that it’s normal and good to feel emotions. It's okay not to understand them. Feelings are not like math.”

Five felt your touch become more present, and you gently approach. He should have said something, but his body started to contradict his mind and he got lost in a blue shambles. He desperately wanted you. Wanted to fuck you until feel you completely and kiss you until taste love. But he also wanted to get away. He wanted to go away and push all those feelings and emotions under the rug.

But when you sat closer to him, and your hands cupped his face, Five realized he couldn't leave.

“How would you react if I did that..”

Then he noticed your mischievous smile, and before he could say anything, you held him more firmly, and filled any part of his face with kisses that you could reach.

You laughed between Five's kisses and protests. But you only stopped after the twentieth kiss. Five was marked with your lipstick, his eyes closed for you, his face in a warning expression.

“Y/N!” He grunted, wiping his face “Are you crazy?”

But his cheeks were red and you could feel his temperature high from where you were.

You laughed louder, settling on the bed.

“.You say you hate it but your red face is telling me otherwise.” You pointed at his cheeks, waved your index finger between them, signaling.

Five frowned even more, trying to wipe the lipstick marks off his face. But slowly, a little smile was struggling to come to his face.

“You are smiling!”

“You are so childish!” he rolled his eyes, but his voice was soft.

“You love Me!” Then you threw yourself at him again, kissing his face where the marks had been cleaned.

Five grunted, but ended up just resting his hands on your waist, feeling ... relaxing.

When you stopped laughing and looked at him, Five held his gaze. Gently, his right hand went to your face, removing a lock of your hair from your eyes.

“I think you're right.”

His voice was low, like a summer breeze, and yours eyes lit up when you understood the meaning of what he was talking about. But Five didn't give you time to answer, he leaned over and captured your lips in a passionate kiss.

You love him too.

[possumart2970]

What is it like being the 'favourite person' of someone with BPD?

I have remained best friends with and in and out of a relationship with a BPD survivor for about 8 years now. During our two break up periods they have been for about 1-2 years at a time because I didn't want to date until they were ready emotionally to spare myself some heartbreak. BPD runs in their family due to generational trauma among possibly other causes. My partner is on the lower intesity spectrum of BPD.

When we met he was always very charismatic and made friends easily. I'm fairly introverted and shy but I was fascinated by how easily he made friends and as we started talking more we spoke every day. I shared a lot of my most hidden emotional and traumatic secrets with him shortly after meeting him. And then one day I was ghosted for about a month. This made me upset because I had considered him a good friend and had confided in him about feeling rejected by other people in my life at the time. I later found out that it was because he thought that I couldn't be real and that I would ghost him first.

Being the FP can be ecstasy, they only want you and they worship you. They develop the same interests as you and give you all their attention and affection, want all your attention and affection in return. There's really kinky, amazing and posessive sex. This can be an ethereal and deeply emotional experience. It's a complete high. He's been my best friend, soulmate and biggest confidant for years. He always protects me fiercely. He knows every part of me, and can sense when I'm sad even though I'm trying my best to hide it from them. They always know how to comfort and make me feel better. They're extremely empathetic sometimes too much for their own good. We still giggle and laugh with each other like school children. I wouldn't change him or want anyone else. I know they're the one for me.

As we got to know each other better we spoke every day, except for when we had massive fights(which was rare). I'm hard to anger because I try to seek more rational methods to end a disagreement but once I have been its hard to hold my tongue and then once I start telling them how I feel, I have vilified myself in their eyes. They feel as though by voicing how they have hurt me, that I have invalided them which can be difficult when you're dealing with the toxic spectrum of things. You have to hide your true feelings to appease them which can be hard in a relationship because they cannot understand how they have hurt you without feeling rejected, abandoned and unloved. This then turns into a "me me me" situation where now your feelings have been invalided because they are upset and struggling with the rejection that they have felt from hearing that. Because they have felt rejected they sometimes or often say that they hate you and want nothing to do with you, and when you're emotionally exhausted from telling them how much you love them and trying to give them more affection while simultaneously being pushed away, you then become upset and feel rejected so you want some space in return to cool down. They then become extremely clingy because they feel as though you're going to leave them. There's a saying that is often associated with people that have BPD that I think sums it up briefly. "I love you, I hate you, Don't leave me".

Being the favourite person in a relationship with a BPD survivor can be extremely tiring emotionally, mentally and physically. You really need to have an intense mental, emotional and physical fortitude made of steel to be able to handle these severe emotional outbursts.

Especially if they are having severe suicidal thoughts which is common amongst people with BPD. In my case my partner would be in the most extreme and intense emotional distress I hadn't even imagined possible. This was triggered by a string of traumatic events/situations. Due to this intense distress he would go through fast changing periods of loving and hating me, he would pine for my affection sometimes even in a forceful way when I was tired, and push me away as soon as I was ready to give affection. This can be very confusing and hurtful, especially when they don't fully understand how acting this way makes you feel. During extreme depressive and suicidal episodes, I was essentially the only accepted support system my partner would have. My partner would go through extreme emotionally distressed periods where for a few weeks to a month at a time he would not sleep at all, except for 1-2 hours a day/ every second day. I am expected to be awake all the time that they are awake during this period and be ready to give my full attention, comfort, affection and validating advice, as well as problem solve issues for them. And in return all I say is rejected and discarded or not helpful. And it can be so hard getting 1-2 hrs of sleep a day for months in fear that you will lose your favourite person to their own self destruction. Situation like this lasted pretty often for 1-2 years after the string of traumatic events. Therapy sessions would help them but only for an hour. After this they went back to feeling intense emotional pain.

There was a time where I fell asleep for 15 hours out of sheer exhaustion and they had attempted to take their life and almost succeeded to my shock and dismay upon waking up (we do not live together). This was such a traumatic experience for me, and them. I wanted to know why and how much i loved them and they meant to me. But they didn't fully understand and they would disregard or forget what I said shortly after saying it.

(Trigger Warning)

Because I didn't want him or his mother to have to clean the mess from the graphic suicide attempt. I did it myself. It was the most traumatic experience of my life and whenever I laid in his bed I remembered the stains that I could not remove from the matress lying right under me or him hidden just by the sheet over it, and I remember that experience even through good times years later. I even remember the stain I couldn't remove from the wooden floor and have flashbacks every time I see it of the pain of having almost lost him. I can't tell him these things because they trigger the intense feelings of emotional pain he felt during that time. And the guilt he would feel would be too much to bear.

I have developed some memory loss since this happened, and they have noticed. but I can't tell them where it stemmed from because the guilt would be too much for them. They are already concerned about how much my memory has deterioated (I am only 22) unfortunately it seems as though I have difficulty remembering all our new good memories together, I often forget large parts of our most recent memories together from the last year even though I remember the feeling of them, the warmth, fun and love. I wish I could remember them so badly and it's painful. Every now and then especially after the traumatic event happened, I have intense and horrid nightmares of graphic scenes of their suicide attempt, cleaning it, and what would have happened if they had not been brought back to life. My dreams as an artist are intesely real feeling and there have been times when I've seen and experienced disturbing imagery and symbols related to that experience. One time i was in a black room with a coffin in front of me and their body was grey in a suit, and i touched their hand and it was stiff and ice cold, crows swooped me and pecked out their eyes, at their hands and heart. White rose petals turned to red. I remember the colour red of the blood so vividly because it was so crimson purple, unlike any colour I had ever seen. (after their attempt their hands were always cold instead of always warm like they had previously been, and they sweat profusely during sleep) I'm scared I will lose them too young because of the effects the attempt has taken on their body and heart. It's devastating to think I might lose them soon and that I can't even remember our good memories clearly like I remember the traumatic ones.

Loving a person with BPD is a 24/7/365 full time job. It's hard to keep up woth work and studies outside of this. Being a Uni student, I often fall behind on my studies and feel unable to explain to my teachers why I have been doing so since thinking about it causes such distress to me and I feel uncomfortable with them knowing something so personal about me. It's a near impossible situation being the favourite person and nobody can do it without being emotionally unscathed or even destroyed. It takes a very rare kind of perosn to have the strength to deal with it. I'm not sure I do myself honestly but I do my best because I love them and can't see myself apart from them. Being away from them even for a few hours is agony to me.

Its been a few years now since the traumatic experience and our relationship is much stronger and he has been trying to understand me better now that he's recovering from that trauma. We just celebrated our 2 year anniversary back together although we were pretty much always friends with benefits during our break ups because whenever we saw each other we couldn't keep our hands off each other even though we tried very hard to deny those urges. I see ourselves healing together now and can't wait for the many years together to come despite the trauma I still have from our relationship. This is the most intimate and special relationship and friendship I have ever experienced.

[shlutnutt]

- Degrading Desires -

warnings: lots of smut, slight angst, sadism, degrading kink, subby colin (the only right way), dom reader, masturbation

psst! look i know all i write is colin and kai and i apologize, i just really needed to get this fic idea i had in mind for colin lmfao. i'll definitely have more varieties up in no time:) // not fully proof read

Apart from being one of the few women to be working for the police investigating department, you made sure you were considered one of the strongest, independent, and courageous of them all. Whether that'd mean you'd always have to cancel plans to keep your full focus on the current investigations, or even distancing yourself from friends and family.

"Here, it clearly looks like a sniper rifle bullet, was definitely shot from afar. Fucking asshole seemed to have planned this perfectly." you made your claim public to the other detectives in the room, passing around the bloody bullet which was secured in a ziplock bag.

"Yup, thats a modular sniper rifle. This was a perfect planned murder, due to how much accuracy is needed to shoot one of these bad boys. " shouted Colin whilst inspecting the bullet in between his rough hands, completely taking away the attention you had held onto you, aggrivating you immensely.

Colin would do this ever so often, always finding a way to snatch away the minimum attention you'd have gathered up, completely becoming the spotlight. You felt as if he had just so much hatred towards you, like he couldn't resist the fact that you were in fact solving more cases in a week than what he could've in a month. His body language although, spoke differently than his actions.

The detectives cheered Colin on, patting him on his wide back, all just so amazed by how easily he solved the puzzle of what specific type of sniper it was, –when you was literally already getting to the point–. Not one of them credited you for shit, not even the women who claimed to be so sick and tired of the misogynistic behavior that's been going around the department. They were certainly the ones cheering him on the loudest.

You only stood there silently staring down at the pieces of evidence that layed infront of you, the dim lighting that took over the small office room making you disappear almost entirely now. Erasing the fact that your only goal was to help these poor victims rest in peace, allowing their families to have complete closure of every each and tragic murder as Zable in the other hand, was focused on stealing your spotlight, just to feel superior and laugh it off in your face later on.

As the detectives all went to their correspondent offices, you and Colin were the only ones left in the room, as he decided to linger around noticing how you'd stay in to investigate through your lunch break. You feeling nothing but envy and him admiring how difficult he was making your job.

"Good job, buddy." blurted Colin as he walked a step closer towards you, a playful hop almost. His dark brown eyes looking down to your Y/E/C ones, as he fidgeted with his large fingers above the evidence table.

"Look Y/N, Im s-

"You're what Colin? Sorry? Why do you enjoy making my life so fucking miserable? Im fucking tired of it, im trying to genuinely help these families." you spat, looking deeply into his soul, noticing how his eyes began to water.

"You're gonna fucking cry now? Good. You deserve to feel like shit." you continued. Colin only looked down at his fidgety hands before taking a seat on the table, and munching on some leftover salad he had left from his lunch break, allowing his shiny eyes to shed their tears.

"It doesn't feel good to feel like shit does it, you needy whore? You just need attention and validation so fucking bad, why can't you just let me do my job in peace." your usage of language taking the both of you by surprise, pausing quickly after noticing Colin struggling to eat his salad with his left hand, when the man was a righty.

"Colin.. what the fuck are you doi-" you attempt to ask the obvious before getting unpredictabley interrupted by a loud whimper. You bent down slightly, letting curiousity taking the best of you to encounter Colin massaging his bulge through his pants.

"You're a fucking pathetic." you continue to degrade, unintentionally causing the member in his pants to leak in precum, dampening his boxers.

"Stop.. p-please stop." pleaded Colin as he massaged his enlarging buldge under the table, still unaware of you're awarness at his self pleasing.

"Why should I stop Colin? You deserve nothing." you proceed, enjoying the effects your words had on him, his teary eyes looking up at yours whilst you walked around the office.

Despite the fact you truly disliked the man you were currently sharing an office with, you just couldn't deny the fact that you enjoyed making him feel this way. Like shit. I mean he looks like he's enjoying it as well. The way he struggled to chew on his salad whilst attempting to keep his cool infront of you, how his long sleeved shirt slightly attached to his body from his sweat, and how his dark decepting eyes shed tears after tears. It was an admirable view.

He enjoyed the suffering, and so did you.

"I-I need to go to the..bathroom.." said Colin, now getting up from his office chair attempting to leave the room in pure hurry, before you got in his way blocking the door entry making him jump slightly.

"Please don't do this.."

"Don't do what? You've fucked up my job experience for all these months Colin, i think you deserve to get punished. Don't you think?" you teased whilst slowly dragging him back to his seat by his veiny arm.

Zable, although being in complete shock by his show of uncontrollable needs was also taking aback from your actions towards him, feeling out of place by letting a woman dominate him. He only sat on his wheely chair, laying down almost, whilst his breathing was surprisingly heavy allowing small whimpers escape his lips. The man needed you, and urgently.

"If this is what you've wanted this whole time, why not jump straight to the point and be a good boy? Instead of making shit hard." you questioned Colin, before prepping your elbows on either side of the arm rests he layed betweeb, massaging his thighs delightfully, earning graceful low groans.

"W-why are you doing this..?" questioned Colin, his eyes barely being able to open due to the slight amount of pleasure he's been receiving. You completely dodged his question, your focus remaining on his clothed thighs.

"Y/N.." Colin called now, attempting to catch your attention once again, you shushing him almost immediately.

You honestly didn't bother to shift your attention towards what Colin was saying, well that was before you felt his pants dampen up under you, warm fuzzy liquids spreading all over him.

"You c-came on yourself?"

"No.."

"What's this then?" you questioned before unzipping his pants and shoving your hand in his briefs, gathering some of his cum in between your fingers and bringing it up to view. "You came on yourself from me simply touching your thighs Zable?" you affirm before he denied your claim. "I k-kinda like when you y-yell at.. me.. and call me names.." he admitted in between pants, not having the balls to look into your eyes as he spoke.

You only giggled at his lack of dominance underneath you, having fully cummed on himself when you barely even touched him and just called him pathetic little names.

"You're a fucking disappointment Colin, you know that right?"

"Y-yes I know.. Y/N.."

"You deserve nothing for being such a piece of shit."

"Y-.. more..please. more.."

You would've never thought the man who'd been bothering you for all those months to have such a hypersensitive degrading kink. It all adds up now, why he'd tense up to his boss yelling at him, why he loved annoying the shit out of you. Whole time he was waiting for you to snap at him, and well who would've known shit would've ended up his way.

Colin wanted nothing but for you to full on dominate him, for you to take control over every little bone in his body. He was willing to do anything you'd ask him to, he'd bow down and kiss your feet if you'd asked him to for god's sake. The thought of making him your literal sex puppet brough nothing but an internal flame into your core, producing an evil smirk to form on your lips onto the man you were just a few inches away from.

"god you're so beautiful when you're in pain." you announce before attaching your lips to his drooly ones, the two of you ravaging eachothers mouths immediately. Zable only melted under the kiss, slightly lifting his hand up towards your breasts, soon letting it drop onto his lap in cowardness.

"you can touch me." you break the kiss to give your consent, allowing his firmed hand grip onto your right breast as he exhilaratedtly sighed to the soft feeling. Colin gripped on you like his life depended on it, as you lifted your leg onto the left side of his thigh prepping yourself down into a straddle, him groaning to finally feeling some contact against his member.

Colin was a moaning mess already, your dripping clothed cunt aligned with his sensitve clothed tip was driving him over the edge as he grew impatient attaching his large hands onto your hips in attempt of grinding you onto him. Although you knew you had him wrapped around your finger you allowed him to grind up to you, his second releasing nearing rapidly.

"oh.. fuck.." groaned Colin as you two dry humped eachother for several minutes now, your purpose being making him suffer but letting yourself get into the pleasure also, as you animalisticly removed his dressing shirt, popping some buttons out along the way. You then manage to remove yours also whilst gripping onto his short sweaty hair.

"Is that all you can do? huh? not enough." you degrade, producing his rhythm to increase making you groan excitedly. Colin's one soft puppy but he'll for certain make sure you're needs are satisfied as well as his.

Didn't take long for you to moan along with him, feeling his bulge twitch under you, as he came yet again collapsing underneath you.

"Colin."

"..y-yes?"

"you're an amazing little slut."

taglist: @divineruler @thatspookyagent @copy-of-a-cheeto @booboomother @evanmybeloved @billyhxrgrove @sinnersblood @crssjjh

(dm to be in taglist !)

kinda wanna highkey make another part to this but we'll see how it goess

[titan-fodder]

Prima Vista Part VII

[ previous ]

Rating: E (explicit; mdni)

Warnings: dramatics, gaslighting, pining pining pining, drinking, attempted drugging, blacking out, vomiting, Nile and Hitch hook up, did I mention pining, one Greek word (thank you again, @cynnyc .)

It’s nearly ten PM as you climb the steps to the PKA house. The brisk October air makes you pull your jacket tighter around yourself and move toward the door faster. You probably should’ve texted your target first, checked to see if he’s even here, but you’re not about to stand outside and wait for a reply, not when you can just knock and ask a living soul.

 It’s Reiner who answers, looking extremely tired with dark circles under his eyes. You idly wonder if he and the other new kids are being kept awake as another stupid fucking hazing ritual, but you don’t really have the time for small talk. 

 “Erwin here?”

 The blond nods and steps out of the way. “His room. Might already be asleep.”

 Shrugging, you walk inside, mumbling, “Just gonna have to wake his ass up then.”

 Which you do, climbing up to the third story after Reiner tells you which room he’s in now. You knock on the door a couple times and almost feel bad when Erwin answers, clearly rumpled in pajama pants and bedhead. 

 He squints at you, and you snort. “Sleep before ten? You some kinda nerd or somethin’?”

 “What do you want?” He gruffs, voice a little scratchy. 

 You can see part of the room behind him, looks pretty similar to the one from last year. That had been the only time you’d really gotten a close look into his space, and it had not ended well. You hope this time will be different. 

 “I needed to talk to you about something.”

 Erwin scrubs a hand down his face then rests his head against his doorframe. “I’ll take a wild guess and say this is about Mike.”

 You push your lips out in a pout and respond, “Maybe.”

 He lets you into his room, catches you off guard when he asks, “Door open or closed?” 

 “Depends. You gonna come onto me again?”

 He chuckles and shakes his head. “I learned my lesson last time.”

 “You can shut it then.”

 Taking up the chair at his desk, you watch as Erwin just crawls back under his covers and fixes cerulean eyes on you. 

 “Why haven’t you been talking to him?”

 Something in your stomach flips, eyes growing as you splutter, “I haven’t been talking to him? He hasn’t been talking to me!” 

 Erwin frowns. “What? He’s been bitching to me incessantly.”

 “And, I’ve been bitching to Hitch incessantly.”

 Groaning into his pillow, Erwin holds out his hand, and you hear a muffled command, “Give me your phone.”

 You do without hesitation, rattle off the passcode then sit and wait as Erwin scrolls through what you assume to be your settings or contacts. The thought that you should be a little scared crosses your mind—you do have some compromising photos in an unlocked folder—but judging by Erwin’s current mood, he doesn’t seem interested in anything except sleeping. 

 “That motherfucker,” he grunts.

 “What?”

 “You blocked his number.”

 “What?” This time is much louder and panicked. “No, I didn’t! I swear I didn’t.”

 He tosses you the device back and gestures in a ‘see for yourself’ manner. “Someone did.”

 Your blood begins to boil as you stare down at your short list of blocked contacts, Mike’s name right on top.

 “Are you fucking kidding me?” You quickly tap to remedy the problem, hands beginning to shake. “I don’t even know how—”

 “My money’s on the shitty boyfriend,” Erwin mumbles.

 You want to text Mike, but you have no idea what to say. Sorry we haven’t talked in over a month. Zeke figured out my phone password and blocked your number haha. You doubt that would fly.

 If you had just come to Erwin sooner, most of this could have been avoided. You don’t know if you’re more upset at Zeke or at yourself.

 Zeke. Definitely Zeke. That is some wildly possessive behavior. That’s isolation. The idea makes you nauseous. This is just another instance of him showing what you believe to be his true self. Between all the fighting and grudges, you’re at your wit’s end. Just the other day, the two of you had gotten into yet another argument when you happened to get a glance at the Tinder icon in his app list. 

 “Why do you still have that?” You’d asked with a frown. You really hadn’t planned on it turning into an ordeal. 

 “Have what?”

 “Tinder.”

 “What are you talking about?”

 Then, right in front of your eyes, he had deleted the app. You saw it, but that didn’t stop Zeke from looking at you with a straight face and telling you, “I think you’re just confused, babe.”

 That’s when it turned into an ordeal. That’s when you got defensive and incredulous. That’s when he just kept telling you that you were wrong, that you were just seeing things, and after a good thirty minutes once you were nice and high strung, he actually had you halfway convinced. 

 Because he always sounds so sure of himself, always makes it so that his word is law. You had doubted yourself—you’re still doubting yourself. 

 “Jesus, I can’t believe this,” you breathe, leaning back in the rolling chair and staring up at the ceiling. You can believe it, actually, you just hadn’t expected him to sink that low. “What do I even say to Mike?”

 Erwin finally pushes himself into a sitting position and stretches. Seems like he’s just resigning himself to being awake. “Whatever it is, you should probably talk it out in person.”

 “Probably.”

 “Might be a little difficult now, though.”

 Heaving a sigh, you mutter, “Yeah, I assume he's pretty pissed at me.”

 Erwin hums, but his voice comes out a little unsure when he says, “Well, that, but also…”

 You're suddenly sitting straight up. “Also what?”

 Making a face, the man across from you enlightens you to the fact that, “Mike is kind of seeing someone. I think.”

 You blink at him, trying to process what he’s telling you. Mike is… With someone? You feel sick.

 But, you shouldn’t because he’s allowed to branch out. You surely did, and you hurt him in the process. 

 “It, uh… It gets worse.”

 Swallowing, you try to hide the lump in your throat when you rasp, “How?”

 Don’t cry. Do not cry. You have no right to cry. 

 “I’m about ninety-nine percent positive it’s Zeke’s ex.”

 Every muscle in your face suddenly relaxes, but it isn’t in a good way. Instead of frowning, your brow softens into its normal position. You release the tension in your jaw, the teeth that were just clenched falling away from each other as your lips part. Erwin moves in and out of focus as your gaze becomes blurry, hot tears gathering at your waterline, and now you don’t even try to stop them from falling. 

 Fucking Rhi. She had been nothing more than an annoyance before, a peppy little annoyance trying to grab your boyfriend’s attention. But, now… Now, you’re ready to fight. Parking lot brawl, throwing fists and pulling hair, and screeching—you want to destroy her. 

 “Oh.” You sniffle then wipe your nose with the back of your hand. “That’s good. I mean—” a quiet cough, “—that’s good for him. I’m glad.”

 Erwin snorts. “No, you’re not,” his volume rises a bit. “So, don’t pretend like you are. God, why are you guys so bad at this?”

 You let out a humorless laugh and shrug. “‘Cause I have shitty timing, I guess.” You bite your lip and look back to the ceiling, trying not to weep too openly, but your lungs are burning, preventing you from breathing, and your heart is bruising your ribcage, and you think your bones just might shatter inside of your chest. 

 There’s a rustling on the bed, and when you look back at Erwin, you find him laying down again but holding the blankets up in front of him. 

 “Come on.”

 “W-what? Erwin, that is literally the last thing we—”

 “I’m not trying to fuck,” he says, eyes heavy as he stares at you. “You need to relax, and I need to sleep, so just come on."

 You consider for a while, looking from Erwin to the mattress. You’re really not that close, would barely even call him your friend, but you did come to him tonight. You had chosen to confide in him. He makes some pretty questionable decisions sometimes, but you still believe that ultimately he’s a good person. 

 “Fine, but put a shirt on.”

 “Then, grab one. Second drawer. Make sure it’s soft.”

 You roll your eyes but do as you're told, running your hands over a few t-shirts until you find one that he should be pleased enough with. He tugs it on then collapses back on the bed, and you kick your shoes off then slip out of your jacket and under the covers.

 You’re facing him, trying to keep a few inches between yourself and his chest, but as you think about the position you’re in—why you’re in it, the tears start flowing freely again, and you’re holding back little whimpers, shoulders shaking at the effort. Erwin breathes in deeply then uses the arm he isn’t laying on to pull you to him, shushing you as he rubs the space between your shoulder blades with a warm hand. 

 “We’ll get it sorted out,” he promises, voice quiet as he starts to doze. 

 It’s not how you expected to end the night, but you suppose there are worse ways.

*

 Mike learns a lot of information in a very short amount of time. Nile meets him outside of the fitness center to give him the scoop, trying to look casual as he walks, but Mike can tell he's nervous. 

 He starts by asking if Mike has talked to you at all recently, and no, he has not. So, Nile tells him that you broke things off with Zeke and apparently it got messy. 

 "Something about him being a manipulative bastard," Nile waves a hand. 

 "Doesn’t surprise me. Took her long enough."

 You've been hanging around the Pike house again, sometimes by yourself and sometimes with Hitch—"Who's really fucking cute, by the way." Obviously Nile and Marie are in the 'off' portion of their relationship cycle. "And, you would know all this if you would just start coming around again. It's stupid to pay dues and not actually engage with the frat, dude."

 "I've just been busy with school," Mike tells him. It's only a half lie. His senior courses are kind of kicking his ass, but he's also been busying himself with Rhi who is… tolerable. 

 "Whatever. Halloween party is in, like, a week. If you don't show up, I'm gonna be real pissed."

 "I'll be there, Nile."

 "Okay, then lemme prepare you for one more thing."

 Mike stops walking and looks at the smaller man who inhales deeply then blows air out through his teeth. 

 "So, uh, she's hanging around again, right? And, you're not there, so it seems like she's sort of, uh, latched onto…" He makes a face, and Mike leans back. 

 "Don't fucking tell me."

 Nile cringes. "Yeah. I don't think they're fucking or anything. I haven't heard them in his room like I used to hear the two of you."

 "She goes into his room?" Mike has to flex his hand by his side, but the brick wall of the library they've stopped in front of is looking mighty nice. Break a few bones, bleed a little, it'll feel good. 

 "Yeah, but, like, they're nowhere near as close as you and her."

 "How close we used to be. It's been so fucking long since we've even talked, dude. And, any time I try to catch her on campus, the dickbag is with her—"

 "Well, at least you don't have to worry about that anymore."

 "Yeah, now I just have to worry about her fucking my best friend. Fuck, she just—" Mike growls in his throat, contemplates turning to go back to the gym because he needs to get this energy out somehow. "She drives me fucking crazy."

 "Yeah, I know, man. I just didn't want you to be surprised at the party when you see 'em all buddy-buddy."

 "I'm gonna punch him," Mike states. "Just lay him out in front of everyone."

 "Please don't," Nile sounds genuinely worried. "Maybe use the party as a way to, I don't know, talk to your girl? Like an adult?" 

 "Obviously not my girl, and I've been screwing around with Rhi anyway. Maybe it's just time we went our separate ways or whatever." 

 It physically hurts to even suggest, but he's trying to put on a brave face for his friend—act annoyed rather than fucking crushed, but god, he is aching. His stomach has opened up into nothing, his chest feels void of everything that was once inside, and he knows he's being dramatic, but fuck fuck fuck, first Zeke and now Erwin? What is it that Mike doesn't have? What can't he provide you with that they can? Just tell him, and he'll fucking fix it. 

 "Yeah, I think we both know that's not gonna happen. Plus, you do realize Rhi is probably just using you to make Zeke jealous."

 "I'm not fucking stupid, Nile, of course I know that." But, Mike is really tired of his love life revolving around that asshole, like he has to wait for Zeke to call all the shots. "I'm using her as much as she's using me, so—"

 "As a distraction?" 

 Mike lets his head loll to the side, peering down at Nile from the corner of his eyes. "What do you think?" 

 The other man gives him a light punch to the shoulder and once again suggests, "Talk things out. Just pull her aside at the party." 

 It's easier said than done. When Halloween rolls around, it's a little insane. It's too big and too loud with a flashing strobe that hurts Mike’s eyes. There are all sorts of costumes, making it hard to recognize anyone. The jungle juice is a mystery, one Mike doesn't plan on touching but that many people will. He has a feeling that more than a few party-goers are gonna end up sick, probably passing out in various locations of the house. 

 Mike has opted for an easy costume, the tacky tourist complete with his pink Hawaiian shirt, a straw hat, sunglasses, and a fanny pack. It's so awful, it actually made him laugh, but Rhi, clad in a spandex tiger suit, is not nearly as amused. She probably wanted him to go the sexy cop route or something equally as cringey, but Mike just doesn't have it in him tonight. 

 Nile is a shirtless cowboy, Hitch is a Catholic schoolgirl, Gelgar is Freddy Krueger with a pompadour, Reiner is a werewolf, the list goes on and on. Sexy, bloody nurses, superheroes, Harry Potter, and so on. 

 When his eyes land on you for the first time that night, Mike comes close to drooling his drink. Lola Bunny in her skimpy basketball uniform and a rabbit ear headband. Your face is painted, and you're carrying around one of those foam balls kids use to dunk into Fisher Price hoops, and he has no doubt the prop will be lost by the end of the party. 

 Mike thinks back to Spring Break, to you wincing at his movie choice then trying to sleep through it. You had woken up to him flipping through the photo album, then chose to finally open up to him. 

 So, why this costume? Why "torture" yourself like this? 

 And, speaking of torture, you're sticking to Erwin just like Nile said you would. The blond is in a tailored suit, his face painted like a skull. It's both classy and creepy, and Mike hates him for it. In fact, it calls for another drink. 

 Rhi finds him in the kitchen after making her rounds, taking up her former place on Mike's arm as he uses the counter to pop the lid off a fresh bottle. They watch the game of beer pong playing out in front of them, but Rhi doesn't seem content to just sit. 

 She has to stand on her tip-toes and shout into his ear, "Wanna walk around some?" 

 No. He really doesn't, but he can placate her, especially if it means getting laid later tonight. 

 They trek back to the main room, observing the debauchery taking place. People are grinding and stripping to Monster Mash. Several couples are spread out in the chairs or up against the wall getting pretty close to full on exhibitionism. 

 They stop to talk to "Officer" Marie for a while then move on to Nile and Hitch to whom Rhi spills everything she just heard from the busty redhead. They joke with Gelgar and his catch of the day, some of the pledges—Jean, Reiner, and Eren—who are just trying to survive, and then at last… you and Erwin. 

 Mike sees the way your chest rises with a deep breath, how your fingers tighten around the little basketball. Your eyes flit from Rhi to Mike, flashing when Rhi greets you. 

 Oh, you don't like her. 

 "Love the costume," she tells you. "Who are you supposed to be again?" 

 Mike chokes on his drink, and you suck your teeth before replying, "Lola Bunny. The Loony Toon."

 "Oh, is that, like, Bugs Bunny's girlfriend?"

 "Kind of?" You try. 

 Rhi looks to Erwin who visibly cringes when she asks, "Why aren't you dressed as Bugs then?" 

 Mike wants to turn around, to put as much distance between all of you as possible. 

 Erwin clears his throat. "Because that would be a couple's costume, and we're not…"

 Mike knows his expression is skeptical, cold even, and when he settles it on you, you give him a little shake of your head that he doesn't really believe. 

 "Oh, alright," Rhi concedes only to chime, "'Cause I heard—"

 "Wrong," Erwin cuts her off. "You heard wrong, Rhi." A hard, blue stare lands on Mike, unforgiving when he tells him, "I think it's time you two talked."

 "I don't think that's really—"

 "Oh, fuck," your swear gets everyone's attention, and Mike takes in the shock written all over your face then follows your line of sight to the entry way where Zeke god damn Jaeger is making his way through the crowd. 

 "What the hell is he doing here?" Erwin spits. 

 "You and Nile decided this should be an open party, dumbass," Mike reminds him with a roll of his eyes. 

 "Oh, so we're name-calling now? Jesus Mike, grow up. You're just assuming shit!" As he rants, Erwin takes hold of one of your arms and pulls you behind him, snatching the furry headband from you so the ears don't stick out. 

 For a split second, Mike thinks he's trying to protect you from him, but then he nods to bring Mike's attention to the approaching figure behind him, and Mike understands. 

 He turns his body to face Zeke who's walking over, fragmented by the strobe, his icy eyes piercing straight through his glasses. Mike, despite his anger toward you, feels the primal urge to protect you. 

 "The fuck do you want, Jaeger?" 

 "Woah, calm down, bud. Just looking for a brat—about yea high, spreads her legs for any athlete she comes in contact with. You guys seen her?" 

 Mike steps toward him, but he's stopped by a hand that fists in the back of his shirt. 

 "Ah, there she is," Zeke smirks, and Mike looks over his shoulder to see you now in front of Erwin with your fingers clutching the pink material across his back. 

 "He's not worth it, Mike."

 Mike thinks he is, though. He feels like he keeps getting whiplash, going back and forth between who he wants to hit at any given moment because it seems to change by the second.

 He's just been so incredibly frustrated for the past few months. Lacrosse doesn't help, and  the gym doesn't help, and fucking Rhi doesn't help. Mike has just been stewing, letting everything fester during the radio silence between the two of you. He's mad at so many people including himself, and all he wants to do is shove his way out of this stupid fucking party and take off his stupid fucking fanny pack and be alone in his apartment under his dumb fairy lights. 

 He shrugs out of your grip, figures the best thing he can do right now is get away from all of you. Zeke stumbles when Mike shoulders into him forcefully. He's not even a little surprised when Rhi doesn't follow him, choosing to vie for Zeke's attention instead. 

 It doesn't matter. All that matters is that Mike gets another drink in him. 

 He tries not to watch the way the heated conversation turns out, the way you bow up to Zeke and Erwin has to once again put himself in between you and the other blond. He tries not to smile at the fire in your eyes, that blaze he's seen so many times (usually when you're annoyed at him), and yes, there's that pain again, barely overshadowing Mike's anger. 

 You yell something at Zeke. He yells back. Erwin feels the need to add his own opinion, but the music is too loud for Mike to be able to make any of it out. Whatever is shouted makes Zeke huff and walk away. Rhi prances after him, and Mike resigns himself to the fact that he probably will not be fucking her after this shit show. He could always find someone else, but that takes effort (not much, but still), and then they usually get clingy afterward, and he just can't be bothered with all that right now. Mike can't be bothered with anything right now. 

 So he drinks. 

 He keeps an eye on Zeke who doesn't actually leave the party, and he drinks. He stares at you from across the room, bunny ears back in place, and he drinks. Somewhere between Boom and Beer Pong, he loses the fanny pack, looks down at some point and finds that it's just no longer there. All he had in there was a lighter and a couple condoms, so he isn't too broken up about it, but he does wonder—

 Mike isn't sure what makes him look over at the counter where all the different drinks are set out, but he does, and it's just in time to see Eren hunching over the bowl of jungle juice like some shady motherfucker, and when Mike makes his way over, world spinning just a little bit, he sees the younger Jaeger brother emptying a little plastic bag of green pills into the punch. 

 "What the fu—" Mike has him by the collar before he can even finish his own question, tosses the kid away from the counter so that he actually falls to the floor. It causes a few people to hop out of the way, their drinks sloshing and spilling on the tile. "What the fuck are you doing?" 

 Eren looks up at Mike with wide, panicked eyes, like he's scared and waiting for someone to save him. 

 "I—I don't know what you think you saw, man—"

 "I know exactly what I saw, you little creep!" 

 Everyone in the kitchen is looking at the two of them as more people trickle in. 

 "What even was that? You trying to roofie the whole fucking party or something?" 

 "No!" 

 "Just one person, then? That one special girl," Mike hisses.

 He walks back to the counter and grabs the large bowl of juice, carrying it over to Eren who's still on the ground. The kid covers his face just in time for Mike to empty the contents over his head, drenching him so that red drips from his hair and trickles down his arms. 

 "Drink up, bitch," Mike snarls before throwing the bowl so that it bounces off Eren's head. 

 Naturally, a bigger crowd has gathered, and Nile shoves his way through, shouting over the music, "What is happening?" 

 Mike leans over to yell in his ear, "Saw him pouring pills into the punch."

 "Are you serious?" 

 Mike nods but steps away when Eren pushes himself off the wet floor and nearly throws himself at Nile. 

 "I didn't do it! I don't know what the fuck he's talking about!" 

 Nile arm-bars Mike when he tries to move toward the little twerp, lips pulling back from his teeth because it has been a shitty night. A shitty week. Shitty month. And, now his fury has shifted yet again. 

 "Did anyone else see it, Mike?" Nile asks. 

 "Probably not since everyone is fucked up—"

 "Including you."

 Mike looks over at his friend in genuine surprise because it's starting to sound like Nile doesn't believe him. 

 "Why the fuck would I lie about something like this?" 

 "Maybe because he's Zeke's brother," Nile suggests. 

 Mike is heated. He can feel the blood underneath his skin cooking his god damn insides, frying his brain so that all he can think about is throwing a punch or two (or twenty). 

 Jaw sliding, Mike shuts his eyes, takes a deep breath to steady himself, to stop his hands from shaking as he tries to figure out when his friends started looking at him as some unhinged freak. 

 "What are you doing—the fu—dude, stop!"

 Opening his eyes again, Mike sees that Gelgar has inserted himself into the situation and has Eren pinned against the counter as he shoves his hands in every one of his pockets. He's growling something at the younger man, keeps shoving his face down against the linoleum any time Eren squirms, and after about a minute of people watching and gasping and making crude remarks about the position the two are in, Gelgar straightens up with a plastic bag identical to the one Mike saw Eren emptying into the jungle juice. 

 "It's just Adderall, I swear!"

 Gelgar scoffs. "This is definitely not Adderall. Believe me, I'd know." He tosses the pills to Nile who takes a long look at them before glaring at Eren. 

 "Get the fuck out before I call the cops."

 He should call them anyway, Mike thinks, but he understands Nile's hesitance. There's a lot going on at the party—underage drinking, party drugs in various rooms, etc. Eren wouldn't be the only one taken into custody if the police showed up. 

 Another voice rings out, asking the same question everyone else has, "What the hell is going on?" and Mike comes close to hurling the closest bottle at Zeke as he makes his way to his brother. "Why are you…" He gestures nebulously as his eyebrows pull together. Rhi is close behind him, and further still, you and Erwin are peeking into the kitchen. 

 "They think I drugged the jungle juice!" Eren looks at Zeke with puppy eyes that probably worked when he was a kid, might still work judging by the way the blond whirls around to face Mike and Nile. 

 "Have any proof, or are you just trying to—"

 "Pipe down, Jaeger," Nile cuts him off, holding up the bag and explaining, "Mike saw him dropping these in the punch."

 Zeke is silent for a few solid seconds before rounding on his brother again and grabbing him by the shirt right where Mike had previously held him, and everyone watches in rapt attention as he steers Eren through the crowd, shouting at him the entire time. 

 Having both of them leave is a relief, but Mike is a little disappointed that he didn't get to fight either of them. It would have been nice to feel a nose break under his fist, but he supposed it's better this way. 

 "Hey, thanks for catching that, dude," Nile says, slapping Mike's back. 

 It doesn't make him feel good. If anything, it pisses him off. Mike would understand if his friend had been skeptical of one of the pledges or second years making the accusation he had, but Nile is one of his best friends. They were inducted at the same time, were hazed side by side. Mike never would have thought Nile had such a low opinion of him, that he’d believe Mike’s little broken heart would cloud his judgement to the point of slandering someone without cause. 

 "Whatever," he shrugs before grabbing another drink. 

 He should just go back home. He isn't having a good time. He's angry at just about everyone he looks at. When Rhi decides he's worth her time again, Mike actually tells her to fuck off. He's lost the accessories to his costume, and he's about to lose his mind. 

 It's getting late. Mike isn't sure how late because as the night progresses, he gets steadily inebriated. He tries to avoid anyone and everyone in his fraternity, hanging out with people he knows from lacrosse or his classes instead. They play a few drinking games, take body shots off some sorority girls (or maybe it's the same one, he can't tell anymore). The music becomes bearable, and the strobe light stops hurting his head, and eventually, Mike just… forgets. 

 He forgets about Nile's lack of faith. He forgets about the fuckhead Jaeger brothers. He forgets about you and Erwin walking around and laughing together oh, ha ha we're so close now. He is finally spared from all of his negative thoughts. 

 Mostly because somewhere between shot number seven and beer number who knows what, Mike pukes into a plant (maybe?) and blacks out.

 *

 "God dammit. Erwin," you tug on his jacket sleeve and point to the corner that is home to a fake ficus that Mike is currently throwing up in. 

 Erwin groans, "Oh, Jesus Christ," and starts making his way over with you hot on his heels. 

 A few people are making faces as they glance at Mike, moving away as he coughs, straightens, then bends over again. 

 "Mike, come on, buddy," Erwin pats his back, waiting for Mike to pause in his retching so that he can duck under his arm and support him. "Gotta get you to a bathroom."

 "No bath," Mike snorts. "No green there, no…"

 You take a place on his other side, not that you can help much in getting him down the hall and in one of the downstairs restrooms, but you at least support his other arm and steer him in the right direction. 

 "Why is he talking about green?" Erwin grumbles as you both lower Mike to the tiled floor in front of the toilet where he promptly pukes again. 

 "The leaves maybe? I don't know, dude. Just…" You cringe as you notice the way Mike's shaggy hair hangs down into the toilet bowl, subject to all kinds of splash back. "Do you have a hair tie on you?" 

 "Literally why in the fuck would I have a hair tie on me?" Erwin asks incredulously, and you laugh because a couple weeks ago, he never would have used that word in this context since it's wrong, but the more you spend time with him, the more he picks up on your vernacular, and that really doesn't matter right now because—

 "Water," Mike croaks, voice echoing off the ceramic. 

 "I don't think you'll be able to drink any right this second, man," Erwin tells him, squatting beside him. 

 Mike shakes his head. "Wanna feel—feel water. Cold."

 "He sounds like a fucking caveman," you snicker. 

 You're really just trying to stay calm, masking the sick feeling in your stomach with amusement, but you've been watching Mike all night as he downed beer after beer, mixing various liquors as he took shots and licked salt off some chick's stomach. You figured he would get sick, but there wasn't really much you could do about it. He had made it pretty clear he isn’t interested in speaking to you. Still, you had purposely remained mostly sober just in case something like this happened (also because you make bad decisions when you get fucked up at frat parties).

 "Yeah, he definitely won't remember any of this."

 "Waterrr," Mike tries again, and you look at the way his arm is dangling over the side of the tub, the faucet on the opposite side, and glance at Erwin at a loss. 

 He shrugs, eyes darting around until he sees the plastic cup upside down on the shower rack. He grabs it, turns the water on and fills the cup, then dumps it over Mike's hand. 

 Mike groans, slowly wriggles his fingers under the stream, and drawls, "Thaaaank."

 You shake your head and motion for the cup, talk loud enough to be heard over the faucet, "I can handle this. You go back outside."

 "What? No."

 "There's no reason both of us have to be in here. He's just gonna puke his guts out for a few hours and then pass out." 

 Erwin doesn't seem sold on the idea. 

 "Come on. You've gotta go back. You're vice president or whatever."

 "So?" 

 "Erwin."

 He stares at you for a while then deflates. "Fine. Do you have your phone on you?" 

 "Always." You gesture to the elastic waistband of your shorts, phone pressed to your hip as it hangs on the inside of the material.

 "Text me if you need help, alright?" 

 "You got it, boss."

 He leaves just in time for Mike to violently retch into the toilet, one hand clutching the bowl as his spine curves. You fill the cup back up, pour it over his hand once again, and repeat the action over… and over… and over.

 His face and hair are gonna be a mess, probably his shirt too which is actually a blessing because you'll finally have a legitimate reason to burn it. Pepto Bismol pink and sketched palm trees stare at you as you sit on the edge of the tub, and all you can think of is the first time you saw Mike wearing the terrible shirt, how that had ended up, how you left with it the following morning. 

 How had the two of you gone from that to this? Sure, you weren't super fond of him at the beginning of it all, but he grew on you. A lot. He's your best fucking friend. Through the last couple months, through this weird fight you're having, he is your best friend. It's why you're here right now taking care of his drunk ass. 

 It'll pass. This phase will pass, and you'll make up, and you'll get your chance to be honest with him, to tell him how you feel about him. It may have taken you a little too long to arrive at your destination, so to speak, but better late than never. Soon, you'll both be able to look back on this and laugh. 

 People knock on the door here and there, and you scream at them to go away, eventually getting tired of it and just clicking the lock into place. 

 Any time you stop pouring water over his hand, Mike whines and attempts to say something, choppy words that don't make a ton of sense. You wonder if you need to call an ambulance, look for the signs of alcohol poisoning, but he doesn't feel cold, his breathing is even between bouts of vomiting, and his arms aren't curling in that tell-tale way. 

 More than likely, he just made himself sick. He knows better, too. He's been partying for a long enough time to be well aware of the mixing rules. Beer before liquor and all that shit. He may have just not cared tonight, though. From what Erwin has told you, Mike has just been in a generally bad mood for a while now (and Erwin has not tried to be subtle about why). He's barely around the Pike house anymore, he keeps getting called for personal fouls in lacrosse, and he's sleeping with Rhi which is nobody's business but is also strange considering her history—some kind of mutualistic symbiotic relationship that nobody is a real fan of. 

 Not my circus, not my monkeys, you think to yourself, emptying another cup from your place on the floor now. The ceramic was starting to hurt your ass, and you know your arm will probably be a little sore tomorrow, or later today since it's nearing three. 

 Fatigue is beginning to set in, and you know Mike is exhausted because he keeps dozing off on the toilet seat so that you have to nudge him back awake. Until he can speak in mostly coherent sentences, he's not allowed to sleep. 

 Sitting in the bathroom gives you ample amount of time to think. You go over some mental flashcards for a while, notes you took with the help of Mike's magic textbook. Then you think about going to your mom's for Thanksgiving and how much you aren't looking forward to it. Then you think about Zeke showing up only to have to escort his shady brother from the house. God, you had not been happy to see him. You'd been a little afraid, if you're being honest. 

 After figuring out that he had, in fact, blocked Mike's number on your phone, you had stomped into his apartment and initiated a screaming match. You got loud, he got louder, called you a stupid bitch and punched a hole in the drywall. You had decided that was a pretty good time to leave, both the apartment and the relationship. He's been lurking on campus around your most frequented spots—the science building, the library, but you've been doing a good job of camouflaging yourself in groups of other students. Even if he can see you, he can't do much about it. 

 You've thought about reporting him to campus police, but you know nothing will come of it. The golden boy can do no wrong. It's why you've been spending so much time at the PKA house again. You know most of them have your back, and you are absolutely not above asking any of them to walk somewhere with you to fend off your angry ex. 

 You can't wrap your head around what his fucking deal is. Surely he didn't treat Rhi like this after they split. There's no way she would still be so infatuated with him if he had. Is it just because you're the one who dumped him? He had to have seen it coming once you started putting the pieces together, the way he constantly tried to make you feel guilty, isolating you from your friends, invading the privacy of your phone to not only block Mike but also to turn your fucking location on so he could track you (you had found that out after that first trip back to the frat house to talk with Erwin. It had not been pretty).

 It's hard to believe you put up with it for as long as you did. It was only five months, but that's still five months too long. 

 Mike is quiet for several minutes, and you sigh when you see that his eyes are closed once again. He makes a noise of displeasure when you use your foot to gently shake him, grumbling, "Sto-o-op."

 "Nope. Gotta stay awake, Miche. Can't have you fallin' into a coma or something'."

 "Nooo. No Miche."

 "Yes, Miche," you laugh. 

 He scrunches his face up, shakes his head, but the motion seems to make him sick again. 

 When he finishes gagging into the toilet, he lets out a deep, "Gu-uuh," then sniffs. "No Miche. Jus' she—she—...Jus' her."

 You can figure out the rest, but you can't decide if you want to smile or cry. Only you can call him that. Well, you and his mom. You miss her. And his dad. And Scout. You hope to see them again. 

 "Okay. Just Mike then."

 He hums in confirmation then shakes his hand in the tub so that you'll douse it once again. 

 "You're a needy drunk, you know that?" 

 Mike doesn't respond to that, just takes a few deep breaths as his eyes close yet again. 

 "Sleep now," he mumbles. 

 "No, no sleep now."

 "Sleep now."

 "Oh my fucking god."

 His mouth drops open a little, and the first thing you think to do is splash him in the face with the cup of water. 

 He spits and splutters but doesn't shift much, still wrapped around the toilet. You try not to look inside when you stand and reach to flush what's already gathered, trying to shield some of Mike's face from any flying droplets. Then you wash your hands and sit back down. You figure you'll be here for at least another couple of hours. The sun will be coming up soon. Thank god it's a Saturday. 

 Both Erwin and Nile knock on the door for an update, and you yell that you're okay. Mike isn't throwing up as often, and when he does, nothing is coming up anymore. He's gonna be in a world of pain when he returns to his normal self. 

 So fucking stupid. He's so fucking stupid. 

 He mutters nonsense on and off. Sometimes you can translate what he's trying to say, but other times not so much. 

 "President… dumb boyyy."

 "Hy-poc-risy an' jealous… Hypocrite… I…"

 "Hand… wanna hold…" but when you grab it, he just gurgles, "Waterrr." 

 There's really no pleasing him. 

 "Why-y-y… dick… Erwin."

 "Volcano books… n' space jam… come an' sam… an'... to the jam."

 You laugh too loudly, and Mike cringes at the noise, but the corner of his mouth still lifts. You don't think he knows what he's doing or saying yet—isn't downloading any new memories—it doesn't matter because you will remember this for the both of you. 

 "You're fucking ridiculous."

 Mike pushes himself back from the toilet to sit against the wall, hissing and clumsily rubbing his chest. His shirt is wet and disgusting, and he must know on some level because he says, "Shower," and starts pulling himself over the tub. 

 "Jesus Christ, Mike."

 He's too tall, dangling an arm and a leg over the side and sinking lower. 

 "Water, pleeeease."

 He apparently isn't aware of the faucet that is still on. Whoever has to pay these bills… You feel sorry for them. 

 "No, dude. I am not letting you drown."

 Mike fucking giggles, "Lifeguard," then tries to take his shirt off. He doesn't have the motor skills to handle buttons and looks to be confused by them anyway, so his next solution is to just rip the material down the middle. 

 "Yeah, okay, I guess that works."

 The showerhead is turned on, and you sit on the edge of the tub again, shivering when the cool spray blows toward you while keeping an eye on Mike. Reaching over, you turn the temperature up a little, knowing that the alcohol has dropped his body temperature some. You're almost tempted to slide under the water with him, but there's no room, and you're not about to just make yourself comfortable on top of him.

 So, you just sit and stare and think about how tired you are. Physically and mentally and spiritually tired. You just need some time to not exist—just a few days. It feels like this semester has been nothing but drama so far, and it is exhausting. Maybe that's why Mike did this to himself. Maybe he just needed to not exist. 

 He starts to sit up a little in the tub, but his hand falters and sends him sliding back down. "Fuck."

 Not caring about getting wet at this point, you simply stand up between his spread legs, the shower drenching you immediately, and grab his hands to tug him upright. 

 "ευχαριστώ."

 "Come again?"

 "Means thanks," he mumbles, slumping forward. 

 You think of his family again, how he and his mother had just fallen into Greek as soon as you'd stepped into the house, leaving you surprised and impressed and warm in several different ways. 

 Squatting, you tilt your head to catch his half-lidded gaze. 

 "You back with me yet?" It's been nearly four hours—Fuck, why is there music playing still—but he might need more time. 

 "Dunno."

 "Can you tell who I am?" 

 Mike does his best to roll his eyes. "'m drunk, not a amnes—amnesic—"

 "Amnesiac," you supply with a smirk. Smartass.

 "That," he nods, pointing at you with a finger gun. 

 He can actually understand you now, so that's good, don't have to worry about him dying anymore since he's making progress. 

 Opening his mouth, Mike catches some water in it, swishes and spits. You expect him to tell you that you can leave. He can take care of himself, doesn't want to see you, all manner of hurtful things he has every reason to feel. 

 Instead, he blinks at you, extends his arms, and makes grabby hands. 

 "Can I help you?" 

 He doesn't say anything, just keeps reaching for you. He could grab you without issue. His fingers are already brushing your knees, but he either doesn't notice or wants to wait for you. 

 "Mike, I can't get any closer," you laugh. 

 Switching tactics, he pats his chest. 

 "Oh, no. I am but about to put myself in the line of vom just 'cause you wanna cuddle or some shit."

 Truthfully, you would also like to cuddle, to feel Mike's body against yours again, trace your fingers over his skin and listen to his heartbeat, but…

 Not like this. 

 "Please. No more vom. Promise."

 "I don't think you're in a state to make promises like that."

 He says your name followed by one more, "Please," and you give in, letting out a long breath and grunting as you find a way to lay between his legs with your head on the lower part of his sternum. You're curled a little awkwardly, one foot up against the ceramic while the other is curled beneath you. It is not by any means a comfortable position, but it's what Mike wants. 

 A few months ago, laying like this would inevitably lead to other things. Talking and joking would lead to giggling, maybe some well aimed prods to your ribs. You would bite in retaliation, his shoulder or, if the angle was right, his nipple, until he pulled you up further to sit in his lap, hot mouth finding yours, and so on and so forth. 

 This is different on every possible level. Neither of you are speaking. Your hands are unmoving on each other's bodies. There's no heat save for the water that's pouring down on both of you, plastering your silky costume to your skin. 

 Still, it's enough to lull you into a drowsy state, the ache in your eyes urging you to close them, but as soon as you do, Mike speaks. 

 "'m mad at you."

 Your stomach drops. His words don't come as a surprise, but they still sting. 

 "I know," you sigh. "I'm mad at me too."

 Your head moves with his chest, a gentle up and down that could—and has—put you to sleep. 

 "Still love you."

 You bite your lip, fingers lightly digging into Mike's warm skin as you remind yourself that he's drunk, and he hates you, and he probably won't remember any of this when he wakes up anyway. There's no reason to get emotional over it. No reason. 

 "I love you too, Miche."

 Silence closes in around you once more. You drift in and out for about half an hour until a loud knock jolts you awake. 

 You scramble off of Mike and hop to the door, leaving puddles and drops behind you. Both Nile and Erwin look panicked in the hallway, the shorter man nearly shouting, "Is he fucking dead in there?" 

 "Not deeeead," Mike calls from the tub. 

 Erwin peers over your shoulder at him, then at you, then takes on a disappointed expression. "You didn't. Come on, he's so drunk."

 "What do you—" You frown as you piece together his implication, then squawk and shove Erwin with two wet hands. "I didn't fuck him, you perv! What is wrong with you?" 

 He chuckles and bats away your hands. "I never know with you two! You can't blame me!" 

 "You're disgusting."

 "Look who's talking. Have you seen yourself in the mirror?" Erwin raises his eyebrows. "Less bunny and more… I don't know, ghoul?"

 God, you had completely forgotten about the face paint. 

 "Shut up, yours isn't much better." His black and white paint is smeared in several places like someone ran their fingers through it. The collar of his shirt is stained, and his hair is tousled. You can't tell if it's the result of getting frisky or falling asleep. 

 "Stop flirting in front of meeee," Mike whines loudly, sitting up and pushing the shower knob a little too hard to shut the water off. 

 "We're not—" You and Erwin start at the same time.

 Nile interrupts with a drawn out, unconvinced little note and informs both of you, "You guys get a little flirty sometimes. Sorry to break it to you."

 You frown at the blond and he frowns back, then you both frown at Nile who shrugs. "I'm just saying. There's a reason people are thinking things."

 It's not important, and you'd rather not dwell on it because you know the truth, and Erwin knows the truth, and Mike will if he'll just fucking listen, but he's fucked up right now, so that's a problem for another day. 

 "Whatever, we'll work on it, but for now…" You watch as Mike tries and fails to pull himself out of the tub. 

 "He looks like the girl from The Ring," Erwin snorts. 

 "Yeah, if she was giant. And, a guy," you add. 

 Wet hair is hanging over Mike's eyes, still sopping wet and dripping. He's all awkward angles as he hoists himself up, kicking a leg over and swearing. 

 "We should probably help him," Nile says, fighting his own smile. 

 "Probably."

 Between the three of you, you manage to transport Mike from the bathroom to Erwin's room on the third fucking floor which is no easy feat. Nile waits for his friend to be dumped onto the mattress, then announces that Hitch is waiting for him to come back to bed. You don't know how long that will last, but your friend falling into the same frat boy trap you did is mildly hilarious. 

 It leaves you and Erwin to make Mike comfortable. You wrap his head in a towel you found poking out of the hamper, murmur, "Hope this doesn't have anything gross on it," to which Erwin responds with an unamused look. 

 You peel the ruined, tacky shirt from Mike’s shoulders and toss it into a corner but you let Erwin take care of the rest. You've seen everything Mike has to offer, but that doesn't stop you from feeling weird about seeing his dick when he can't really stop you. So, like Mike did last year when he spilled water on your shirt, you turn your back to allow him some privacy. 

 There's some rustling and grunting, but when Erwin tells you it's safe, you look to find Mike in a pair of gym shorts, hair still wrapped, looking more disgruntled than you've ever seen him. 

 "'m still wet."

 "You sure are, big guy," Erwin agrees, slowly guiding him to lay down on his side and explaining, "You need to sleep like this, alright? Otherwise you might choke and die."

 "Erwin!" You throw your hands up in the air. "Why would you even—?"

 "Know how it works, dumb… butt."

 "Oh, dumb butt. That's a good one," Erwin grins. "Very creative."

 "Don't panotrize me!" 

 You have to cover your mouth to keep from cackling, and Erwin shakes his head, corrects, "Patronize, Mike. Patronize."

 "That's what I said!" 

 It takes a while to get him relaxed again. Apparently, Mike's favorite thing to do while drunk is run his mouth to Erwin, so while he's busy dealing with that, you raid Erwin's closet for a shirt and then his dresser for boxers. Once you are mostly dry, you snatch the towel from Mike's hair to wipe your face and toss it away, then step up onto the bed near the pillows, urging Mike to shift so that you can sit against the headboard. 

 He immediately rests his stubbled cheek on one of your thighs, then wraps both arms around the other, his fingers melting into the fat just below your ass as he grunts, "Mine."

 "All yours, buddy," Erwin assures with a grin before glancing at you. "I'm gonna pass out in the chair—" he gestures to the one in the corner of the room, "—if you need me for anything, just wake me up, okay?" 

 "Yeah, thanks." Then, "Hey, Erwin?" He hums in response. "Don't tell him about tonight, like, me staying with him."

 "Why?" 

 "I don't want him to stress out about what he may have said or done. 'Cause I know he will."

 "Whatever you say," Erwin shrugs, collapsing in the chair without even changing or washing his face. All three of you are gonna look like characters from a horror movie whenever you wake up, and the thought makes you smirk as you card your fingers through Mike's damp hair. 

 It's getting longer. He could probably put it up if he wanted to. He's been letting his beard grow a little too. You aren't sure if it's laziness or just trying a slightly different look, but whatever the case, it's hot. 

 He keeps your leg clutched tightly to him like some kind of stuffed animal until he drifts off to sleep. It's nearing five, and you know you probably won't get any quality rest while you're here, so you figure you'll just doze for a while until you can safely extract yourself from Mike's grip. He probably won't appreciate waking up like this anyway. No matter what he's said to you and Erwin—declarations and staked claims—it'll all be worthless in just a few hours. 

 A symphony of snores plays through the room, Erwin splayed out in his chair like he's passed out in a cheap Vegas hotel while Mike drools on your thigh, and if it was anyone else, you'd be disgusted and shove him away, but since it’s Mike, it’s weirdly endearing. He can slobber on you all he wants, it won’t bother you in the slightest. 

 Eventually, the sun shining through the window becomes too bright for you to even fall into a light sleep, so just as you planned, you gently untangle yourself from Mike, pausing when he grunts and frowns, but when he doesn’t stir any more than that, you manage to slip out of the bed. 

 Grabbing your phone and costume, still a little wet and cold because of it, you leave as quietly as you can. Your shoes are still in the downstairs bathroom along with Mike’s shirt, and you have a legitimate mental debate over whether you really should just toss it, but as much as you hate it, you decide against it. 

 You have to step over several bodies to get to the front door, more than usual which is concerning since the punch Eren spiked was thrown out (or really, thrown all over him), but you’re able to make it out without tripping.

 The drive to your dorm feels too long, sun beaming right into your itchy eyes the entire way. You nearly cry in relief when you finally fall onto your mattress, already well aware that most, if not all, of your day will be spent under the covers. You’re more than fine with it, allowing yourself to just not exist for several hours exactly how you wanted to.

[an-annyeoing-writer]

vulnerability. – chap. 2.

Story info:

Pair: Byun Baekhyun x Reader

Rating: +18 for mentions of s*x and violence (future chapters)

Genre: angst, smut

Chapter info:

Release date: 4th June 2021

Word count: 2 751

Warnings: mentions of criminal activity

Vulnerability Masterlist || Fanfiction Masterlist || Ko-Fi

Taglist:

@shesdreaminginoverdose @mybiasdashboard @marimsun @byuns-asscheeks @multi--kpop--fanfics @vunv @making-me-blush @skittlez-area512 @bloopbloopkai @byuns-asscheeks @baekyeonoreo @kimcarinaa

Please, always comment on the newest chapter if you wish to be added to/removed from the taglist. I will be also checking the tags, so if you're shy – feel free to leave a note this way.

Previous (Chap. 1.)

Chap. 2.

“What’s my name?”

“Baekhyun.”

“Wrong.”

A stroke of the riding crop over her chest makes the woman whimper. She’s older than him, but it doesn’t matter. Right now, everything about her – her age, name, wants and aversions – they’re all reduced to the leather collar around her neck.

“How are you to address me?”

“Master” she doesn’t hesitate.

The man does, though – he stares her down just for a few seconds, as if to judge her, before he speaks again.

“Good.”

Her gaze follows him as he walks slowly around her, observing her body’s reaction. She’s not to move, not to ask questions. She’s to accept it.

“I’m going to beat you with the crop now. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Bend over.”

* * *

The day was long, but Baekhyun found himself relieving stress in one of his favorite ways.

This time, he sat in The Queen of Spades alone, sipping whiskey and silently watching people around him, eventually ending up staring into the alcohol’s surface instead, until it disappeared entirely and there were only a few pieces of ice at the bottom left to look at. Once they melted, he’d drink them up as well – and it would probably happen, as he wasn’t about to leave anytime soon. There was not much to do.

His eyes landed on the small cut on the inside of his palm, placed next to the glass; the cut was still fresh, but not deep enough to require medical assistance, or even bandaging for that matter. Accidents happened – in some jobs more than in others. The best he could do was to make sure that accidents like this would not follow him back home.

He heard his phone vibrate, but it took him a few seconds to pick it up.

“Hello.”

“Hi there, Hyunie.”

The familiar voice made him sigh deeply with annoyance.

“You don’t sound happy to hear me,” the feminine voice on the other side spoke in slight offense.

“Sorry, it’s not your fault, Luna, I thought I’d be off for the night,” he admitted honestly; the woman’s presence was not something he minded much, but she wasn’t one who ever brought good news, so his mood instantly dropped the moment he heard her voice.

“Well, tonight you can rest, I have something for tomorrow, though.”

Baekhyun exhaled, already rubbing his temples.

“Spill it, I guess.”

“It’s an office. They have a very good security and our hacker couldn’t get in, so we need someone to go there and get some physical copies out, take a few pics and then leave them where they were. No footprints. We need the copies by Monday, and I’ll send someone to give you the details in person tomorrow.”

“Alright. I’ll be waiting.”

“One more thing.”

“What’s that?” He was ready to hang up; thinking became too tiring. But tomorrow; tomorrow, he’d consider this; now was his time off.

“You did leave footprints today, everyone knows. That you got in trouble, and the police were called. What if they recognize you?”

The man snorted in response.

“No way, I know our safety measures. I wouldn’t let them see my face. It was just an accident, okay. A harmless one. I know better and it won’t happen again” he elaborated, feigning confidence – anything just to make this conversation end.

“Are you sure it was harmless?” Luna was the most composed as she spoke, her voice completely ridden of emotions, and that was what started to worry him. As he knew, carelessness and light humor were typical of her, not this seriousness and solemnity.

“What do you mean?”

“The police have a sample of your blood” she finally spilled. “It wasn’t enough to extract your DNA, but it’s already something. Be careful next time, could you?”

His heart dropped. Confidence was gone.

“…Got it.”

“That’s all. Just take care of yourself, Hyunie.”

“Yeah…”

“Sleep well tonight. You have a long day ahead.” She made a quiet smooch sound.

“Goodnight, Luna.”

The line went dead.

For the next few minutes, Baekhyun stared straight ahead, seemingly deep in thought.

In fact, though, he was depleted of thoughts. He was stuck in the bubble of no thinking, no reasons, no emotions, as his brain processed the information it just gathered, but the process was happening outside of his consciousness.

He wished to stay in his thoughtless bubble for longer, but the thin barrier between his consciousness and his internal dialogue finally broke, and he was flooded with everything that he’d been keeping at bay ever since the conversation started.

And so, Byun Baekhyun started contemplating all the things that he preferred to keep away from himself, so as to not spiral into depression and frustration.

He chose a job, thinking, that the breach of law will give him the freedom he desperately wanted.

He ended up dependent on other people to the point where not even the law could protect him anymore; exactly the opposite – the law didn’t seem much of an obstacle anymore, in comparison to all the other things he got tangled in. It wasn’t a lifestyle that one could escape, and he’d learned it way too late.

He tried to achieve independence, but he became a pawn in other people’s hands, irrelevant to the big things happening around; trusted and respected, yet simply disposable at someone else’s command.

There was only one way he knew that could help him regain the sense of control.

And that was how Byun Baekhyun coped.

* * *

“Bend over.”

She obliges without a question, leaning over the table in front of her. Apparently, he’s interested in her behind, rather than the chest that was only a bit pink from the previous hits. She’s an obedient, but slightly frisky one, one that aims to please while also hoping for some pleasure for herself, getting bored easily, but also fussy if something goes not as she wants. Baekhyun breaks her spirit every time they meet, ridding her of any remaining selfishness.

But she enjoys the pain. He makes sure she enjoys nothing else.

The first hit makes her moan, rather than resist. Her skin is smooth, with no scars, and he makes sure it won’t stay this way for much longer, at least for the next few weeks that it will take to heal after he’s done.

The next few swats must feel nice as well, but then her voice falters and turns into quiet whimpers. She doesn’t try to move away, instead, she leans back, at least for the next few hits until it becomes too much and she tries to move away instead.

She doesn’t speak, and neither does he; the sound of the riding crop hitting her bottom mixes with her breath becoming strained and whines becoming louder from pain.

* * *

It was a few days later that Baekhyun sat again in his favorite, cozy area of The Queen of Spades, with a man taller, but younger than himself; it was not so difficult to be taller than Baekhyun, but at the age of 29, most of the people in his circle of closest friends were younger, while most of the ones in his work field were older, which was some sort of a good sign, meaning that he’s worth more than most people of his age.

29 years old – a confusing age. He should have had his life figured out by now, and, to some extent, he had – he knew what he was good at, and what he could do to slowly ensure himself a stable retirement. But to say he was pleased with his career of choice would probably be a misstatement. Yet, that was what he had, and that was what he needed to accept.

They sat on the leather couch that he usually occupied. The taller, bar-styled table and two chairs were on the right side of the couch – he usually used them when carrying on serious conversations. But currently, he was there just to rest, and so in use was the couch. He glanced at the man on his side – leaning his head on Baekhyun’s shoulder, looking fragile despite, in comparison to Baekhyun, being the stronger silhouette.

“Don’t fall asleep, Sehun.”

No answer came, and he didn’t feel a strong need to disturb the other’s rest. Maybe it wouldn’t be too appropriate to sleep in such a place, making an impression of getting drunk over the limits – which was not really the case, alcohol wasn’t the reason for Sehun’s tiredness – however, in fact, who was there to judge them? Especially with Baekhyun being a regular customer who knew everyone else with such a title; and most of them knew what he was up to as well, and why the people he came with usually were not in the most energetic moods.

The music playing in The Queen of Spadeswas usually quiet and climatic, R&B and jazz tunes mixed with the voices of people, and people coming here usually didn’t try stir the bar’s aura.

In fact, it was exactly the opposite.

The moment a person entered the bar, welcomed by the dim space of browns, beiges, woods, and crystals, their soul instantly filled with the calm atmosphere. The aesthetic and climate gave a clear cue, that intruding them wouldn’t be worth much; it was the best to accept and follow, to allow the place to create the unique experience.

“Sehun, are you sleeping?” Baekhyun glanced at the other, and the man only hummed lowly in response. Baekhyun’s shoulder began to cramp, so he gently lifted the other’s head and rested it on the couch’s backrest instead. Sehun instantly moved a little to adjust, but it didn’t seem like he’d want to get up anytime soon. Baekhyun eyed the bruises on his neck – slowly darkening fingerprints of his own.

The bar’s door suddenly opened, catching his attention with noise when the door accidentally hit the wall. Two girls walked in: one of them he saw come here a few times before, alone and not, and the other… well, the other he had not only seen before, but would most likely see in the future as well. What a coincidence.

[F/n] looked nothing like when he last saw her; primarily because, at the museum, she wore modest clothes that suited the situation. Now, in tight fitted pants and a loose shirt exposing a fair amount of cleavage, she looked way more like a girl of her age, similar to many others that came to the bar every day. If not for the fact he knew her, he wouldn’t have paid her much attention now; however, he did know a bit, and if not her appearance, then at least the personality behind it kept his eyes on her until she looked over her shoulder, sparing him a shy glance, as though either knowing he’s looking at her, or, at the very least, expecting him in the same place as he usually was – in fact, he guessed it would be the latter.

She smiled at him softly, and he reciprocated the smile, tension on his face dissipating; the smile grounded him, in a way, reminding him of the fact that, just as he could watch anyone now, he could also be watched. His presence also didn’t make her as tense as it did before, which was relieving – he started worrying if he didn’t go too far during their official first meeting. The word sensitive written on the page of his notebook wasn’t taken out of the blue. She was fragile, he could tell; not in a bad way – but he knew how his demeanor impacted her back then. But that was sort of a proof in itself, a proof of her determination, because despite this impact, she didn’t back out when she had the chance to.

He still felt that she’s not completely aware of what came with the lifestyle – hobby? activity? – that she was getting herself into. Yet, when he thought about it, how could anyone know that for sure, before they had a taste of what’s it like? If anything, he could give her a chance, he thought; a trial, to see if not only she’s in for her own indulgence, but if she can handle what he himself is interested in.

“Wazzup?” Sehun’s voice sounded by his side. The man was undoubtedly good at recognizing his changes in moods. When Baekhyun didn’t feel confident enough to say too much, it was usually Sehun who asked the questions, allowing him to spill out what was on his mind.

“Nothing much. There’s a girl, though, she wants to join” he explained slowly. Sehun’s face didn’t change at the statement.

“You want to take her?”

“Not sure yet.”

“Ah, so.”

“What do you think?” Baekhyun glanced down at the other; Sehun didn’t look at him, his eyes remained closed.

“Well, I don’t know her. But since Byeoli moved out, your circle’s been kind of empty. There’s me, Chaejang, Lisa… well, yeah, that’s it. You haven’t taken anyone new in a while, and old ones are leaving… Aren’t you getting bored?”

“I’m not bored with any of you.” The statement was simple, but meaningful; Sehun smiled softly at that.

“Well, but you seem to have a lot of free time now, and when you have too much free time, you do stupid things.”

Baekhyun scoffed.

“I mean it.” Sehun looked at him directly now. “You’re getting lonely. You need stimuli.”

To the last statement, there was no answer. The men sat there in silence for some more time, until the glasses became empty, until there was nothing more to sit there for, and until the night became so deep that it threatened with becoming the morning soon.

* * *

“Will this be all?”

“Yes, thank you.”

You gave the customer in front of you a bill with the price of his purchase – an average one, just some grocery; not like you paid it much attention – and took the calculated amount of cash from his hand. No change, no problem. You shared a warm smile, as warm as you could muster up at the late hour. It was one of the days when your natural shyness and introversion didn’t get in the way, and you could enjoy the few polite words exchanged with the people passing the store.

“Thank you, goodnight.”

Right as the door closed behind the man, your phone suddenly called and you reached under the counter, where some of your personal things rested during your shift, ready to reach for if necessary.

“Hello?”

“Hello. Am I disturbing you?” Your heart skipped at the familiarity of the voice. However, this time it wasn’t due to anxiety – you started to look forward to his response, and it was like butterflies in your stomach when you received one. You probably should save his number, though.

“Um… Not much” you replied honestly.

“Is your Friday afternoon free?”

“This Friday?” It was Wednesday, you consulted your imaginary calendar.

“Yeah” he replied shortly.

“Um… Sorry, I have the night shift. Saturday?” You counteroffered right away, not wanting him to take your response as a rejection.

“Won’t you be tired?”

“I’ll sleep it off before the afternoon. I’m used to it.” Your free hand fiddled nervously with the strap of your ID badge.

“Hm, okay then. Can we meet at The Queen of Spades? I live nearby too.”

“Where are we going?”

“To my place.” He hesitated for just a second or two. “Are you okay with that?”

The statement made all the cogs in your head move. You hesitated now, too.

Was it what you thought it was? You couldn’t be sure – it could have been just another one of the ordinary meetings, one to get to know each other better, one to pass free time. It was still soon – you didn’t expect it to happen so fast. Even in the span of the time that has passed ever since seeing him for the first time, till reaching this particular point – it still felt so fast, as though after all these years of hopeless yearning you weren’t ready for jumping into the deep end and bringing your dreams to life.

Yet, your instincts were at ease, no red flags, no suspicions. You didn’t feel a need to refuse, or to wait. What would happen if you did – wouldn’t you end up regretting it? Would you be stuck in your safe-zone forever? Although you felt naïve in your trust, you still trusted your instincts foremost.

So the answer came naturally.

“Yes. Yes, I’m in.”

* * *

Please, reblog if you enjoyed, it'll help me a bunch

Author's note: How's everyone doing~? I hope you're enjoying yourselves. Please let me know your thoughts on adding that little criminal thread! And, while waiting for the next update, consider checking out my masterlist~

Next (Chapter 3.)

[voiceless-terror]

Hey, I hope I'm not bothering you, but I wanted to know if you're still taking requests? My friend cinnamoniic's birthday is coming up (around the seccond week of march) and I know they're a fan! If you have time, could you fit is a short Jontim or Jonmartim? That would be really cool!!! (As a surprise, please only publish this ask if you're able to take the request)

hello, not bothering at all! I don’t know if this is early or late but happy birthday @cinnamoniic !! a silly little jonmartim for my favorite artist!!

Tim is very, very happy to have his boyfriends over for the night.

It’s their first overnight and he’s looking forward to falling asleep in Martin’s arms and cuddling up close to Jon, whatever happens first. And that’s why he’s placed himself right between the two, Jon lying on the side of the bed against the wall and Martin insisting on the edge ‘in case I get up in the night, don’t want to wake anyone up, you need your rest.’ Ever the gentleman.

But it’s been three hours and not once has Martin made any motion to get up. In fact, he’d fallen asleep almost two minutes after they got situated, sprawled on his back and dead to the world. Tim’s glad Martin can sleep so deeply, he deserves it with the hours he’s pulling. But he’s not very happy about the sounds he makes while doing it.

Martin snores. Tim does too, as he’s been told by previous partners, but Martin’s like a goddamn motorboat. It’s deafening. He refuses to wake him and inform him of this fact, though he wishes Martin had warned him ahead of time. Tim doesn’t want to make him feel bad, but it’s getting to be a bit of a problem. It’s not steady enough to be a comforting white noise, as it occasionally turns into whistles or crescendos into loud roars. Martin’s got range.

And if Martin sleeps like the dead, Jon's the exact opposite. It’s not that he’s woken up at all, no, but he’s constantly rolling around, climbing on top of them at strange and uncomfortable angles. Tim wouldn’t mind the clinging so much if he didn’t change position every fifteen minutes with a jab of his pointy elbows.

He also talks.

It’s all nonsense, of course. Snarky little noises, as if he can’t stop being a little shit even as he sleeps. Sometimes it's a steady stream of enthusiastic mumbling, like his sleepy equivalent of an info-dump. Tim hopes he’s got a captive audience in his dreams.

He murmurs something directly in Tim’s ear, having burrowed himself in the crook of Tim’s neck five minutes prior. After imparting this wisdom, he rolls back over to face the wall. 

“You’ve got a point, buddy. He is loud.” Tim sighs, staring up at the ceiling, when a thought occurs to him.

Maybe if Jon’s got a Martin to distract him, he won’t be so bothersome. Martin seems to be a heavy sleeper, and won’t be woken by Jon’s nocturnal gymnastics. With this in mind, he very carefully scoots to the bottom of the bed and reaches for Jon, half dragging, half carrying him closer to Tim’s previous position. Jon immediately clings on to Martin, throwing himself diagonally over his chest with a happy little noise. Martin doesn’t wake. Perfect. Tim shimmies over to Jon’s spot, his back to the wall as he closes his eyes to finally get some rest.

Until Jon’s leg kicks back and hits Tim directly in the stomach. He yelps and struggles to catch his breath, glaring at his two blissfully unaware companions. Jon snuggles into Martin’s arms and the snores reach a new crescendo. This is hell.

Tim tries, he really does. He spends the next thirty minutes curled as far into the corner as he can manage, he puts the pillow over his head. But nothing drowns out the noise and Jon still intermittently kicks at his back, albeit gentler than before.

He truly loves the two of them, more than he ever thought possible. Tim reminds himself of this as Martin attempts to break the sound barrier and Jon puts on a one-man show of Riverdance against his back. But he’s got to get some fucking sleep. 

He considers waking the two of them and voicing his complaints. It’s not unreasonable; hell, Tim would want to know if he were the offending party. But he can’t bear the thought of Martin’s guilty little face, and he knows Jon will use it as an excuse to stay up the rest of the night. He could just slip into the living room, but that’ll just cause a fuss come morning. No, it’s time to do some strategic maneuvering. It’ll be difficult, but Tim thinks he can pull it off without waking the two. And he’s never been one to back down from a challenge.

Tim squirms down to the edge of the bed, flipping Jon’s pliant body back to its previous position. He almost falls out of bed when Jon surprises him with an emphatic “Recording ends!” but he quiets after that, curling into a ball.

“Good job, bossman.” A nickname he can only use when Jon can’t hear. He’s not too fond of it, now that they’re dating. Tim still thinks it’s cute. 

Now for the hard part. For this one, he’ll have to get out of bed entirely.

As he looms over Martin, Tim tries to figure out the best way to go about this. He gives him a gentle, experimental shove but Martin’s dead weight and does not want to move, stubborn even in sleep and now snoring louder in what seems like protest. Tim pushes back the sleeves of his sleep shirt, shakes out his arms. This is why you lift, Stoker. You can do this. A second push: the man budges a few inches, but there’s still not enough room for Tim to slip in. Martin’s always been stronger than him, much to his chagrin, and he’s never beaten him in arm wrestling. He’s built like a brick house, albeit much comfier. But Tim will not let him win in his sleep. That’s just ridiculous, not to mention embarrassing. So he lets out a grunt and gives it his best shot, the push finally managing to get Martin completely on his side.

And directly on top of Jon.

“Shit!” Tim swears, immediately jumping on the bed at Jon’s muffled squeak, his hands starting to pull Martin back when what little he sees of Jon suddenly relaxes, his face going slack. Tim briefly worries he’s killed him but Jon is in fact breathing, an utterly content look on his face as if all he needed to settle was the pressure of Martin’s arm and half of his body. Tim laughs in disbelief, running a hand through his hair when he notices the sudden quiet.

Martin’s stopped snoring. Not entirely, no, but after a minute of hovering over the man, he hears only the lightest of occasional wheezes. God, I’m a fucking genius. He almost wishes someone had been around to see it. He’s debating taking a picture and sending it to Sasha when he glances at the clock- two am. If he wants to wake up slightly rested, and in time to try Martin’s much-lauded pancakes, he’s going to have to cut his celebrations short.

So he climbs back into bed, attaching himself to the large, warm expanse of Martin’s back and burying his face in the softness of his worn sleep shirt. This is how it’s supposed to be, cozy and comfortable and quiet. Just took a bit of trial and error. 

Now to see if it’ll last til morning.

At eight, Martin wakes everyone with a shriek upon finding Jon buried underneath him and takes both Tim and himself off the bed with the force of his backpedaling. They land with a painful thump, Tim swearing as his abused back takes the brunt of the fall. Jon peers sleepily over the edge of the bed and gives the two of them a pleased smile, stretching like a cat basking in sunlight.

“Don’t think I’ve slept better in my life,” he yawns, blinking slowly. “What are you two doing down there?”

“A-are you serious?” Martin stutters, still tangled in the sheets and making no move to get up. Tim can’t help his snicker. “I-I was completely on top of you-”

“We should do that more often,” Jon agrees. “I like having you on top of me.”

It takes Martin about an hour to recover from that statement and around the same time for Jon to realize what he said. And Tim, well, Tim’s just happy to finally get some sleep.

And Martin’s pancakes. He really wasn’t kidding about those.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29931783

[rosaliepostsstuff]

Chasing birds | T. W.

Talbott Winger x reader

not adding a taglist cause it's the first hphm fic I've posted so I'm not sure if you're into it

Summary: The reader realises Talbott is spending the holidays at Hogwarts and decides to stay behind too, to keep him company

Reader's house not specified!

Word count: 2195

Warnings: mentions of food, mentions of parent death, mentions of difficult family relationships

a/n: it's assumed the reader has helped him with the necklace, is an animagus (the form isn’t mentioned) and had the first date, valentines day and festival date with him. I also assumed the festival took place at the very beginning of year 5 while it was still summer and it's now the following winter.

Also, I pretended Bea didn’t get sucked into the portrait because I didn’t want Penny all sad.

It was safe to say that most of Hogwarts students were looking forward to the winter break. Some because of the Holidays, some purely because of the time off.

Some were counting down the days since the very beginning of the term, some since November 1st, some from the moment the castle grounds had been graced with the first snow of the season.

Winter had its own charm to it. The castle got its share of sunlight during the warmer months, towards the end of the school year, as the summer was approaching, and at the very beginning of it as the summer was slowly fading away. But once the grounds were covered in snow, the grand castle seemed even brighter – the winter sunlight and sky is different but all that light, reflecting off the snow and amplifying, seeped through the windows.

You were already filled with anticipation, more and more with each day that separated you from Christmas break.

You were currently counting down the minutes till the charms class ended, your last class that Friday – minutes to your last weekend before Christmas. You divided your attention between encouraging the blond Gryffindor in lifting his feather and the watch on your hand ticking away.

“Alright then, dear students, that’s all for today! Some of you I will not be seeing until the next term so I’d like to wish you all Merry Christmas, Happy New Year and may you all have a nice rest before the new term starts! Class dismissed.” Said Flitwick cheerfully as a chorus of thanks and all kinds of wishes followed, before the students began to pour out of the classroom.

“Gee, you’d think there was a fire…”  you heard Jae say groggily from behind you as he was getting up from his nap and stretched lazily. You looked at the crowd trying to squeeze through the door and chuckled, agreeing with him.

When the crowd thinned a bit, you saw someone you immediately recognised walk into the classroom. You smiled to yourself at the sight and involuntarily paused your actions to look at the tall boy in his Ravenclaw robes try to push through the students with a bit of a grimace on his face. You could almost hear his thoughts in your head.

“You coming, Y/N?” said Rowan from beside you.

At the sound of your name Talbott looked up in your direction and you briefly met his eyes. He smiled as soon as he saw you and you smiled back at him, waving your hand lightly. He raised his hand in response for just half a second before turning his attention to Flitwick.

“Coming,” you said quietly, turning to Rowan who now was standing with arms crossed on her chest and suppressing a grin.

“Ohh shut up..” you said jokingly flinging your bag over your shoulder.

“I did not say a thing..!” she countered, giggling.

On your way out, you managed to hear a bit of Talbott’s conversation with Flitwick.

“He’s staying at school for holidays..?” Rowan mentioned, looking over her shoulder after you left the classroom.

“Yeah…” you went quiet for a bit, thinking.

You had to admit, you hadn’t thought about it before, but it was quite logical. When you first learned about Talbott’s parents, you never pressed the topic further and you didn’t know whether he had any other family, someone to spend the holidays with. And during all those times you spent Christmas at Hogwarts, was he at the castle too? Hiding away somewhere, alone?

“You know, I gotta do something real quick. Meet you in the dorm later?” you said to your friend, already quickening your pace, finger-gunning in her direction.

“Sure, yeah,” she answered, a bit puzzled, yet entirely used to it.

 ——————⁛⁙⁘◊⁘⁙⁛——————

 “Oh I am so excited, I can’t wait! You see, each year Bea and I, we have a gingerbread house making contest. Neither one of us is very good at it, but it’s so much fun. Mum always has both of them on display…”

You listed to Penny ramble in excitement about Christmas over dinner and couldn’t help but smile a bit.

“Oooh, Talbott! Talbott, come on over here!” she called over your head all of a sudden, waving energetically at the boy who just looked as if he got caught, but walked over to your table anyway, then sat down opposite you with a quiet greeting.

“What about you, Y/N? Are you going home for the holidays this year?” Penny asked curiously.

Your heart rate picked up a bit, before you answered, “No, I’m staying here,” you glanced at Talbott and met his eyes before he looked back down onto his plate.

“Oh, ok,” said Penny, before changing the topic.

 ——————⁛⁙⁘◊⁘⁙⁛——————

 The case with Talbott wasn’t so easy. Your crush on him started with you being simply intrigued. You met him in your third year and there was just something about him that wouldn’t allow you to just let him be, no matter how tall he put up his walls. You felt the need to make him feel comfortable around you and you wanted to get to know him better. That’s how you became friends.

But when you did get to know him, that’s when you were truly lost. His wit, sarcastic sense of humour. His calmness and collectiveness. And him opening up to you felt more rewarding than anything else.

There were so many moments between you, the dates you went on, where you wanted to just take a dive and go all in, and each time you were closer to doing so. But in the end, you were scared of scaring him away, even if he showed time and time that he felt the same way. He even announced out loud that you were his date at the festival!

Still, each time you got back to the starting point, stuck somewhere between friends and lovers.

 ——————⁛⁙⁘◊⁘⁙⁛——————

 You woke up a bit giddy and slightly nervous. Last afternoon all the students not staying at school for the holidays left. You got freshened up and dressed, then headed to the great hall for breakfast.

When you walked through the great entrance you scanned the four, almost empty tables. And there he was indeed, at the very end of the Ravenclaw table, as usual.

“Talbott!” you greeted, sliding into the seat next to him.

He hadn’t noticed you approaching and got a bit startled, “Y/N, Merlin…” he said, putting down his toast and placing a hand over his chest, “what are you doing here?”

“Tsk, already so accusatory. I came here to have breakfast with you and spend some quality time together!” You said in an exaggerated tone.

You could’ve sworn you saw a hint of a smile creeping up onto his face and he looked around the whole room.

He scanned the tables to see if any other friends of yours stayed over the holidays or if maybe there were none, leaving you with no other choice but to sit with him. Upon noticing Chiara and Jae a bit further away he turned back around lifted one eyebrow, acknowledging, and took a sip of his coffee.

Suddenly, you became painfully aware that the last time you properly spend time together, with just the two of you, was during the outdoor festival. And there you were, sitting side by side, doing something so casual and everyday as having breakfast.

It was also uncommon for you to see Talbott out of his school robes. He had this magical talent of looking good in just about anything. He was wearing a pair of dark jeans and a plain turtleneck, his hair, as always, smart and neat and just the right amount of messy.

“Aren’t you eating?” he called you out with a bit of a smirk, not gracing you with a glance, and got back to his own food.

With a guilty blush and no confidence to strike up a further conversation, you focused on your breakfast.

“So how are you doing lately?” he asked after a few minutes, having finished eating, and sipped on the rest of his coffee slowly.

“Uh, alright. Considering everything,” you answered and he nodded slowly. “You?”

He shrugged his shoulders with an indifferent expression, “As per usual. So what made you stay at school this year? Your mum away..?” he inquired.

“Eeh… irrelevant,” you tried to dismiss the question.

“Ooh-kaay…” Talbott replied.

“Do you have any plans?” you asked quickly.

“Uhh… I was going to just read for a bit..?”

“Great! And in general, for the holidays?” you questioned further.

“Y/N, where are you going with this?” he asked, puzzled.

You mustered up all your courage for the moment you’ve been waiting for since you told your head of the house you’d be staying in the castle for the holidays.

“I thought we could spend Christmas together,” you started, taking Talbott by surprise.

“Y/N, do I look like a Christmas person to you?” he asked after a second.

You looked him up and down, “Very much so.”

He sighed deeply and leaned his elbows on the table, hiding his face in his hands. You knew he was debating it and you almost had him on board.

“Aww, come on, Tal! It’ll be fun!” You shook him by the shoulders, making him groan.

“I swear, you’ll be the death of me,” he said and you tried to tame the grin on your face and the butterflies in your stomach.

 After finishing your food you rushed to your dorm to owl Rowan as quickly as possible.

 ——————⁛⁙⁘◊⁘⁙⁛——————

 “Do you like snow?” you questioned after you went outside into the grounds.

Talbott chuckled, “Who do you take me for? I’m not that much of a bore, am I?” he teased you.

“No, I just…” you mumbled.

“Although it does get in the way when you try to fly during a snowfall…” he cut you off, walking a bit further, and crouched down, facing away from you.

It took you a second to realize what he was doing. You looked around, trying to find cover and ducked, but it was too late, you got hit with a snowball.

If you weren’t so focused on getting revenge, which turned into a full snow fight, maybe you’d take some time to admire him. The way little snowflakes rested on his hair, how his eyes looked when he focused or how bright he was smiling.

“Alright, alright, I surrender!” Talbott put his hands up and you felt relief, as you were starting to get tired, but you didn’t have it in you to give in first.

“Don’t mess with the curse-breaker, Winger,” you said in playful smugness, walking out from behind your cover and up to him.

“Yeah, yeah…” he started, “go inside or you’ll freeze, you’re covered in snow” he brushed some of it off your shoulder, and you were glad you had already been blushing from the cold.

 ——————⁛⁙⁘◊⁘⁙⁛——————

 “On the Christmas morning Jacob and I used to wake up to a pile of presents at the foot the bed each,” you started, “I always loved Christmas. But after he disappeared things at home changed. I know mum is trying, but it’s difficult sometimes, especially during the holidays…” You reminisced, looking down at your hands wrapped around a mug of hot chocolate.

“My mum really liked Christmas,” Talbott said, “She’d always get so into it, with the decorations, she used to make them herself, too… and she’d sing to me. I don’t think my dad was as much into it, but he tried to keep up for her,” he smiled a little wider to himself. “It was really nice,” he confided.

Your heart ached for the boy next to you. After he had to go through so much, you deeply wished to make it your mission, to bring as much happiness to his life as you could, even if to brighten it up just a little.

“So you don’t hate Christmas after all, huh..?” you said quietly.

He answered after a moment, “No, not Christmas itself.”

“I was hoping I could make it a little bit better. Maybe show you that it can still be nice,” you confessed.

He looked up at you, “That’s… Y/N, I don’t know what to say,” he trailed off.

Unsure of where to go from there either, you took one of his hands in yours.

“Y/N,” he softly prompted you to look up at him.

His face was close to yours and he glanced between your eyes and your lips, silently asking for permission. You inched a bit closer and he closed the distance, cupping your cheek with his hand.

Unsure at first, he relaxed after a second and you melted into him. His lips were really soft and warm an you placed your hands on his shoulders. You could smell his perfume mixed with his natural smell, the smell you adored, and which brought you comfort. Talbott kissed you tenderly and you felt absolutely ecstatic, sure that if he weren’t holding onto you, you’d collapse.

He pulled away only slightly and rested his forehead on yours.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N,” he whispered.

“Merry Christmas, Talbott.”

[eleanorbloom]

Marry My Lover (Bryce x Eleanor Proposal Headcanon)

A/N: Well, I thought I wouldn't do it because I was too invested with this fic, but I've been thinking adult life is so fucking hard that maybe I'll never find the time and inspo to finish this fic, so... well, why not realease it to the world as headcanon/very-poorly-written-fic. If later I find the inspo, maybe I'll write it, maybe not, but I think posting this will lift a heavy weight off me.

Please forgive me my grammar mistakes and poor english, I mean, I know it's not poor, but I went really basic here, other way I would've never finished writing this lol

Tagging my WYR readers, in case you're interested in reading this @curiousconch @romereadingshop @utterlyinevitable @lahellacute @chocopeppermintcake

Also this is sumbission for @openheartfanfics Weekly Trope Challenge, week 2: Weddings & Proposals (@openheartheadcanons)

Marry My Lover

Bryce had wanted to propose to Eleanor for a while, considering both spontaneous and prepared ways to do it.

One of the first ideas was proposing on a visit to the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum, as it was the place of their first date. But none of their shifts let them assist for a couple of weeks, so he decided to look for something less complicated.

As he saw their annual meeting with the gang was coming, he decided he would propose on that occasion. Surrounded by friends, the people who helped them get together and supported them in the most difficult times both personally and as a couple.

So he would propose at Donahue’s. With a song, no less. Marry Me by Bruno Mars. A cheerful song, Eleanor loved Bruno Mars and simply matched with the tone he wanted to have on the proposal. Happy and spectacular. He wanted to make her feel the luckiest, most loved woman on earth.

So when he decided what he would do, he shared the news with Sienna so she could help him orchestrate the event. He would arrive a bit later than Eleanor, Sienna would keep her distracted, and then whoop, Bryce would appear at the center of the bar singing the song.

On the day of the meeting, Bryce was in the locker room when he received a text from Sienna: “All set, B! We’re waiting for you”. He breathed deeply, excited and a bit nervous at the same time.

They had talked about marriage, about a life together thousands of times, but it was different just taking the step and doing it, of proposing marriage. Marriage. Damn.

But at the same time, it was just a confirmation of the love they had for each other. Their love that had grown exponentially, to unknown highs and depths in the three years they had been together, and he was sure that their love would keep growing and getting stronger with each day.

After getting ready, he texted Keiki: “Hey Keiks, are you there already?” “Oh, yeah, hidden in the parking lot, super spy.” “Awesome, I’m coming out of the locker room I’ll be there in five” “Okay”

Bryce didn’t want her to miss it for the world. Keiki would kill him if he let that happen. Luckily for both Bryce and Keiki, she was studying close to home, more than close. Cambridge. BS in Physics at MIT, so as she was living just a few minutes away from Boston, they saw each other pretty regularly, once a week or once every two weeks depending on how busy the three were.

Keiki was excited about it, but there was just this strange smirk on her. Bryce thought it was just the fact that her brother would propose to Eleanor at last.

Once at the bar, he greeted their friends, Elijah, coming from Chicago, Jackie, from Baltimore, and Sienna coming from New York. Aurora was the only one living in Boston, working at Brigham and Women’s Hospital as attending and part of the new Diagnostic Team there.

Everyone was happy but at the same time with this strange smirk, like they were hiding something.

“And Elle?” he asked.

A few moments after the question was made, a guitar started to play. He looked at the center of the bar, and found Eleanor, on a yellow dress, and matched hatband playing guitar and singing: We could leave the Christmas lights up 'til January And this is our place, we make the rules And there's a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you, dear Have I known you twenty seconds or twenty years?

Bryce couldn’t believe his eyes. His ears. His skin. How a shiver ran down his spine, making tingle every inch of him; how his stomach fluttered at the sight of her there, beautiful and singing and… Surprising him.

It was Lover by Taylor Swift, because, how not, his girlfriend was a Swiftie since High School, so once a Swiftie, always a Swiftie.

Bryce knew almost every song of the last two albums she had released in the last couple of years because they had blasted the speakers of their home for weeks. Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close? Forever and ever, ah Take me out, and take me home You're my, my, my, my lover

After singing the chorus, Eleanor handed the guitar to Rafael, who continued with the melody, and took the mic in one hand, singing the second verse as she started walking slowly towards him. We could let our friends crash in the living room This is our place, we make the call She took his hand on hers and softly pulled him to the center of the bar

And when Eleanor sang “And I'm highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you”, both chuckled knowingly, because they knew how true that was, wherever he goes, he enchants.

I've loved you three summers now, honey, but I want 'em all

It had been three summers indeed and nor he or she couldn’t imagine a summer without each other.

Eleanor kept singing, every word with meaning, it was like the song was written for them, especially “I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover” Because who else on this planet was a magnetic force but him?

Bryce was beaming the whole song, smiling, laughing, biting his lip, showing how happy, flattered, incredulous and in love he was.

He couldn’t believe his luck. To this day, after more than three years, sometimes he still couldn’t believe he had the chance to love so much and be so loved. So happy, so free, so understood. And he would probably live this luck, this love, forever and ever with her.

When the song ended, Eleanor took out something from the pocket of her yellow dress. A velvet box. When she opened it, a silver ring with a diamond at the center shined under the multicolor lights of the bar. Eleanor took his hand in hers and kissed his knuckles softly before asking: “Bryce Lahela, mi amor, we both know we want to spend the rest of our lives together. In these three years you have made me nothing but happy. The happiest luckiest woman alive. I want that for the rest of our lives. Would you marry me?”

“Yes,” he said, eyes sparkling, shining so bright with emotions, with love, with adoration, with happiness, “Yes, babe, yes! The only thing I want is to spend the rest of my life with you!”

Everyone cheered, Sienna was crying, Kyra too, and even Keiki had shed a tear.

Eleanor put a ring on his finger and both kissed sweetly in the middle of the bar.

After a few moments, Bryce kissed her hand and chuckled, “Well, now it’s my turn.”

Eleanor stared confused at him, and when she heard him shouting “Música maestro!” she understood.

Eleanor couldn't believe it either. When the notes of Marry Me by Bruno Mars started playing, she covered her mouth with her hands just like Cecilia Bolocco when she won Miss Universe in 1986. “No way, love!” she squealed.

After a few verses, Bryce took her hand and turned her to the wall, where a video was playing. Videos of colleagues, nurses, even patients, with thumbs up singing along “Don't say no, no, no, no, no, Just say yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah” Then, her parents showed up in the video, beaming as they sang along too. Even her grandparents from Chile, Ricardo and Ofelia, appeared in the video asking the same.” “Oh my god,” Eleanor couldn't hold it anymore and simply let the tears fall. Tears of joy, of happiness.

Then Bryce started to walk around the bar, singing with a persuasive tone, asking the patrons to join him in his singing, as if he had to convince her to marry him. Friendly patrons would nod and show their thumbs up and sing along for a couple of seconds.

Once the song ended, Bryce bend on one knee and took the velvet box out of the pocket of his pants, where a beautiful rose gold ring was there, with a round diamond at the center and smaller at the sides. “Well, you won me. This was my idea too, but you were faster, or maybe you had friends who took your side and decided to help you instead of me.” Everyone chuckled. “Or maybe she just asked before you did,” Jackie teased. “Either way, I’m honored and flattered, but I couldn’t miss the opportunity to propose to you. I mean, I’ve dreamed about this day practically since I met you.” “Awww, mi amor.” “I want all summers with you and all winters, especially winters so you can keep me warm on snowy nights.” Eleanor giggled, her eyes full of tenderness, “Of course, my love. Summer, fall, winter, spring, all of the seasons and all of the years I have left on this planet.” “Good. And you, Eleanor Andrea Bloom, would you marry me?” “Yes, my love, mi amor, sí, sí, yes!” Bryce put the ring on her finger, and again, people cheered and clapped. Keiki and Jackie whistled.

When Bryce and Eleanor got off the stage, the gang approached them, filling them with congratulations and hugs, and just love for the happy, recently-engaged couple. they disclosed how everything had happened -Eleanor indeed had asked help first, she had been practicing guitar for more than a month with the help of Rafael.

After a while, Bryce took Eleanor’s hand and led her to a quiet place so they could have a moment for themselves. They smiled and laughed without saying anything, still processing what had happened and trying to understand the happiness they were feeling. their hearts were simply overflowing with happiness and love. “You know? I can say people, mostly women, have asked me a lot of things in my life, some of them shocking, some of them rather cute, but never had a woman proposing to me, so this is a first. You're definitely a keeper.” “Oh, that's why you're agreeing to marry me?” she asked, feigning offense. “One of the four hundred million reasons, babe.” Eleanor smiled pensively, earnest, “You deserve everything, my love, everything. And that includes being proposed, because, damn, we’re too far from gender stereotypes and toxic masculinity.” “I agree.” “And because I really wanted you to know that I wanna marry you, and spend the rest of my life with you, just as much as you do.”

Completely spellbound by the sincerity of her love, now and always, Bryce simply bit his lip and leaned to plant a sweet kiss on her lips.

There was nothing else to do but be happy.

____

Ps: Here pics of Bryce and Eleanor engagement rings. I had the idea of a collage, but it would've also taken me a day to finish it, lol sorry

Thank you for reading! ❤