#do something if I’m sick. but I can’t. also she doesn’t go to any of the meetings because she has too many conflicts and signed up for

[lesbiansanemi]

Currently trying not to vomit over the fact that I essentially just lost almost a thousand dollars brb

[nope-body]

.

[yanderenightmare]

Bakugou Katsuki

♡ TW: boyfriend Katsuki's strange guilty pleasure, harassment, nasty online comments, noncon ideations, online pervs

♡ FEM reader

“I’m borrowing your laptop, Kats!” you call. 

He’s in the bath, so you’re not sure he heard you, but also, you don’t think it’s any big deal. You’ve been a couple for years now, and living together has only brought you closer. Besides, it’s not as if you’re going to snoop or anything—you’re just going to check something real quick while you charge yours.

You rethink it when you have to write in his password. Maybe it would be better to just wait for your own machine to get ready—it’s not as if you’re in a hurry or anything. But then again, at the same time, it doesn’t hurt to give it your best guess.

Right on the first try—your name and birthday. Though you appreciate the gesture, he really should see into getting something stronger than that. The information he is privy to through his work is quite sensitive, after all.

But anyway. Onto the task at hand. You click into the browser. It’s already got some tabs open. 

You don’t mean to let your eyes wander, but it just can’t be helped. Katsuki sits before this thing, sometimes for hours during the day. Of course, most of it is surely work-related, writing incident rapports and profiles and the like. But this page right here… you don’t know… something about it seems strange.

“Some type of forum…” you mutter to no one but yourself. Katsuki had never struck you as the type to neither read nor partake in other people’s banter. Again, you’d promised yourself you weren’t going to pry, but it only takes a few seconds to read the comments—it’s over before you can stop yourself.

I bet she’s a squealer, like a really cute squealer

I wanna tie her up in an abandoned building somewhere no one will hear her scream

Same, but not on the bed though, on the floor and take her like a bitch

I‘m sure dynamight fucks her every day, i know i would! 

Dynamight’s such a lucky guy I hate him

You blink reading through the comments—completely having forgotten what you were doing in the first place. Who are these people? What are these comments about? You keep scrolling, eyebrows knit, and then you see it—your name. 

She looks like the type of girl that lets her man fuck her anywhere he wants whenever he wants

I’d literally kill for an hour of having her alone. And I’d make good use of that hour. Make her dump that blond asshat to be with me.

If she were my girlfriend, I’d keep her leashed to the bed with a collar. Can’t have other guys looking at her when she’s mine.

I’d only feed her cum. Trust me, she wouldn’t go hungry.

You’re eyes are fully wide now. Are all these chats about you? What’s Katsuki doing in a place like this? Reading all these sick comments as if he isn’t your boyfriend.

“Hey!” A shout knocks you out of your trance—and startles you enough that it very nearly even knocked you off balance.

“What’re you doin’ on my computer?” he asks in accusation while taking hurried and thundering steps toward you—still wet from his shower, wearing nothing but a white towel around his lower half.

“Uh,” you struggle to find your voice, heart hammering in your chest, head spinning—feeling both caught red-handed and the exact opposite. “Uhm, nothing—I just—”

He rips the laptop off the desk, angry eyes staring at the screen—then quickly going round.

His face pales. You can practically see the goosebumps as they rise in a rush across his skin. 

He swallows thickly, jaw-locked—doesn’t even dare look at you as he asks the question, “Did you read?”

You almost consider saying no but decide against it. This wasn’t something you could just ignore. No, you needed an explanation. Who knows? It might be completely innocent.

“Some of it…” you confess.

He shudders, and then he places the laptop down again, slowly, soundless. He rests his hands on the table and leans his weight on them, head bowed, voice small.

“I just… I… It’s, well…” He scratches the back of his neck, looking for the words.

You’ve never seen him like this before. Katsuki is nervous. But you suppose it’s for good reason.

“It’s not what you think, okay?” he declares, finally looking at you. 

His face is something unfamiliar—riddled with this guilty anxiety you’ve never pictured before—frazzled. It’s completely odd.

“Okay,” you say calmly. You don’t know if you’re angry or not yet. You know you probably should be, but the look on the man’s face is making you feel sorry for him.

“I don’t agree with any of this,” he insists, gesturing to the laptop. 

“Well, yeah, I sure hope so,” you say, although the question still remains, “But why are you on there then?”

“It…” He’s blushing—profusely—bright vermillion-tipped ears and apple-red cheeks. He looks away again. “I don’t know…”

I don’t know is an excuse you’ve never heard come out of his mouth. In fact, excuse or not, it’s a phrase you didn’t think him capable of. But look at him now, using it the same childish way a kid would after being caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“You better not lie to me, Katsuki Bakugou—or I know someone who’s sleeping on the couch,” you finally find your strict tone. He’s crazy if he thinks this is something you’ll just forget about.

He sighs and then he falls into his desk chair, back hunched, hiding his face, wrapping his arms around your thighs and pulling you close, nuzzling his head against you, mumbling under his breath, “It’s sick, and it makes me sick…”

You wait, giving him the time to figure it out.

“But it…” he continues. You feel his hands tremble just a bit before he confesses, “It makes me feel good.”

You’re not sure you understand, and so you ask for clarification, “What makes you feel good?”

He sighs again, and this time, his voice comes out dark and lusty, leaving no room for confusion, “To know that I have something everybody else wants.”

♡ BAKUGOU KATSUKI masterlist ♡ BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA masterlist ♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist ♡ ALL masterlists

[charliemwrites]

Part 5 of Mister(s) Steal Your Girl

Long awaited, but no Johnny smut just yet. Soon, I promise. (And Kyle will be back. It's been so long since he's gotten to smooch our dear reader.)

Also! A little reminder than you can check the queue to see what I plan to post for next. I try to update it often as the worms wiggle. Next I plan to do the final chapter of Greater Bad. (Unless I get my not-so-secret, no-longer-a-surprise oneshot out first)

Lastly! Please note that I wrote the "posts" from his perspective. So inconsistencies with the actual story and any grammar/spelling errors were purposeful or for "authenticity".

Content: Brandon.

r/CakeEater _OnBrand_ I asked my fiancé for an open relationship before marriage. It worked. A while ago I posted on r/adultery about the affairs (yes, multiple) I was having behind my then-gf’s back. We’d already been dating for ~4 years and I was seeing one of my coworkers (my “work wife”) regularly and one of her coworkers on and off. People on my other post were critical and called me all sorts of things like selfish and pig. I know it’s not traditional, but I genuinely don’t think I could ever be satisfied by one woman. My work wife (Rachel) and fiance’s coworker (Lucy) provide things my fiancé just can’t but I still love my fiancé. She’s the woman I’m going to spend the rest of my life with. When I posted on r/adultery I was trying to figure out how to propose without her finding out. I knew she’d expect me to help with stuff and possibly want to look at my phone more often. It would have been harder to sneak off to meet up with Lucy or Rachel with wedding planning and I was sick of being stressed she would find out. Some nicer people on the post suggested I ask for an open relationship. I took their advice and sat her down to sell the idea. It’s a good thing I’m so good at sales (top 3% in my company for 5 years in a row) because she agreed. Yes, actually agreed. At first she got kind of pale and her eyes got really big and blank. I thought for sure she was about to start crying and run off. Maybe even kick me out. She doesn’t really get angry but she gets upset and it freaks me out. After I explained everything about how good it would be for us though, she agreed. This is my official unlimited hallpass. I’ve been seeing Rachel on weekends and Lucy once or twice during the week for drinks. Tonight I’m going to sign up for every dating site I can. Tinder, Bumble, Hinge. If anyone has other suggestions, I’ll check those out too. Fiance has been kind of off but I think it’s just an adjustment period. Sometimes I can tell she’s been crying but she hasn’t come to me about it so she’s probably just being emotional about all the changes. At least she’s got our house to focus on while she gets used to things. I feel a little bad about running out every night but she’s just so mopey and sad all the time and it’s not enjoyable to be around. I know she probably feels like I’m abandoning her a little but once she starts getting back to normal I’ll spend time with her again. You really can have your cake (all the cakes heh) and eat them too. Edit: no, I never told her that I already had Lucy and Rachel and I’m not going to. What good would it do? She’s already agreed to an open relationship and telling her that I didn’t have permission first would just hurt her for no reason.

Kyle’s been gone for two (long, lonely) weeks when he finally gets a chance to call. So far, he’s only been able to send scattered texts at odd hours. Always something sweet – telling you he’s alright, or that he’s thinking of you. Sometimes you even catch him for a brief exchange before he apologizes and “goes dark” again.

Not that you begrudge it. This is part and parcel of dating him and you knew that going in. You’re not complaining when he’s putting his life on the line so that the public can live in blissful peace.

That doesn’t stop you from missing him though. His hugs, his smile. Getting his voice - even roughened by distance - is a nice compromise though.

“How have you been holding up, chickadee?” he asks after the initial reassurance that he’s whole and hale. 

“Easier this time!” you answer proudly. “I know what to expect with you gone and Johnny’s good company.”

“Yeah?” he asks, sounding pleased.

You can just imagine him now, leaning his hip against the nearest surface, arms crossed over his broad chest. He tends to duck his head when he smiles, and you unintentionally grin to yourself, thinking of him hiding into his phone. God, you miss him. 

“Mhmm! We found a board game bar that you’re going to love. Oh, and we’re going to the Hay Festival this weekend.”

He hums. “I’m sorry I can’t be there to take you, luv, but I knew Johnny would be good to you.”

More than good to you, really. There’s not been a day he doesn’t call to check up on you - if he doesn’t see you in person, that is. Dinner, movies, coffee. He’s somehow both a gentleman and an incorrigible flirt, but only with you. He’s nothing more than polite to anyone else, keeping his focus on you and whatever the two of you are doing.

You don’t know what to do with the undivided attention. If you didn’t know better…

“You two are getting close,” Kyle observes.

“I think so,” you admit, then hesitate. “Is… that okay?”

“‘Course, luv. I’m glad.”

You blink. “You are?”

“He’s my best mate and you’re my best girl.”

An odd pang of anxiety pierces your chest. Johnny calls you that too. His “best girl.” You love hearing it - but maybe you shouldn’t?

“It… doesn’t bother you? That we’re spending so much time together.”

He snorts softly, but it’s not derisive. It’s a noise he makes whenever he thinks you’re being silly, but his voice comes out soft and warm. Not an ounce of condescension.

“No, baby, I’m not fussed. You spend your time with whoever you want, however you want. Yeah?”

Your chest floods with warmth. “Okay.”

“There’s a love. I’ve got a brief, so I have to go. I’ll call soon as I can.”

“Be safe, Ky.”

“Do my best. Give Soap a smooch for us, aye?”

You blink as he hangs up. That’s a new one.

You ponder over it while packing on Thursday night. Was it just a joke? A tease at the little crush you’ve developed for Johnny?

Because it is a crush, you know it is. It’s impossible not to be attracted to him. Not with that smile, that laugh, the goofy humor and sweet mannerisms. He still sends you flowers every few weeks - just as the previous ones are about to die. It’s so thoughtful; you’ve started feeling a bit warm every time you look at them.

But you feel greedy, being even remotely interested in anyone else. You have Kyle and Brandon (even if you two are going through a… patch) and that should be enough for you. Shouldn’t it? You’ve never been with more than one person at a time before; it took you weeks to shake the compulsory guilt when you first met Kyle. It feels almost unforgivably audacious to want Johnny too, especially since he’s Kyle’s best mate.

Still… Kyle’s not a jealous or passive-aggressive guy. You’ve been with him long enough now that you know he’d just tell you outright if he was unhappy about something. And he’s been with you long enough that he can surely tell you’re more than a bit fond of Johnny.

Maybe that’s why he made the joke about “smooching” him.

Regardless, you want to talk to him about it. Things always make sense when you think out loud to him. His levelheaded and practical approach to difficult topics always straightens your panic spirals out into neat lines.

Plus, it’s not as comforting to hold your own hand. (God, when is he getting back?)

“Where are you going?”

You blink up at Brandon, folded pajamas in hand.

“The Hay Festival,” you answer.

Speaking of - you slip past him into the bathroom. He doesn’t follow, rooted to the spot spinning his phone around in his hands.

“Alone?”

You snort. “Of course not, I’m going with a friend.”

The allergy pills are at the bottom of the medicine basket beneath the sink. You really need to organize it the next time Johnny’s too busy to hang out. There’s no way you need three bottles of paracetamol. 

“I need that suitcase.”

You toss the bottle in and pivot for the dresser. “What for?”

He shifts, eyes sliding away. “An… overnight.”

Ah. That’s what he’s calling it now?

You snatch a few (too many) pairs of underwear from the dresser.

“Just bring them here,” you say over your shoulder.

There’s a long, tense beat of silence but you’re too busy rummaging for socks to break it first. Will it be too warm for thigh-highs? Eh, you’ll go with the sheer ones; the little lace roses match one of your dresses anyway.

“Bring who here?” Brandon asks slowly.

When you turn, he looks paler than usual. You shrug, trying to project casual comfort.

This is a totally normal and reasonable conversation to have. Just a couple in an open relationship, discussing a stranger coming to the house for a shag. Nothing to make a fuss over.

“Whoever you need the suitcase for? I know you’ve had people over before anyway, and I’ll be gone all weekend.”

He stutters, color returning to his face in bright pink blooms. “Why do you think I’ve had people over before?”

You arch an eyebrow. “I do the laundry, remember? And there was lipstick on one of the wine glasses.”

That had sent you into a tizzy at the time, disgusted that some stranger was in your bed, with your fiancé. You washed the sheets twice on the hottest setting and tossed in a bit of bleach for good measure. Hadn’t been able to look at him the whole week - not that he was there much to not look at.

Now, though, you seem to have adjusted to the idea, even if you’re still not thrilled. Brandon can have his… whoever over, and you’ll goof around with Johnny in Wales.

“Just toss the bedding in the wash afterwards,” you add.

“I thought you do the laundry,” he sniffs.

“I’m not traveling all day just to do chores when I get home,” you answer. He does a double take like you’ve started speaking a new language. “You’ll be here all weekend, I’m sure you’ll have time.”

He opens his mouth, and you can tell already that he’s about to argue - though you don’t really know what about. It’s not like he can’t do laundry or dishes, after all. He lived alone before you moved in together.

Thankfully, his phone distracts him before he can form the words. He spins away to tap at the screen and shuffles out of the room, shoulders till tense. You go back to packing and teasing Johnny about the amount of hair gel he’ll bring.

Friday afternoon can’t come fast enough. Even though you’ve taken a half day from work, the few hours seem to drag. You’re practically daydreaming about the food and drinks, music and activities. There’s a baker’s dozen art stalls you want to check out as well, and a gift to pick out for Kyle…

“Hope yer thinkin’ o’ me when ye make tha’ face.”

Your head snaps around so fast, you nearly give yourself whiplash. Johnny grins down at you in all his casually handsome glory – ripped jeans, green tee, and brown boots. Angels are singing somewhere, you think. Or maybe that’s just your nosy coworkers ogling from their own cubicles.

The reality of him sinks in a moment later and you leap up from your cushy chair – and right into his arms. He’s like a furnace compared to the cool, conditioned air of your office, a welcome source of warmth for your chilly fingers.

“What are you doing here?” you giggle. “Who let a rowdy guy like you in?”

He smells like bergamot and pine. It takes active thought to resist pressing your face into the crook of his neck. It looks cozy there.

As always, he squeezes you a bit tighter just before letting go.

“Hey now, Marcy’s a discerning lady. She knows a fine gentleman when she sees one.”

You snort, belied by the smile curling your lips. “She may need new glass then.”

“Och, don’t go talkin’ poor about my second-best gal now.”

“Is it that easy to get in your good graces?” you scoff, glancing at the time on your computer. It’s later than you expected; no wonder he came up to retrieve you. You spent so long daydreaming that you’ve lost track of time.

“Aw don’ be green, dove, you’re still my number one. Send ye flowers ‘n all.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Yeah, and now I’m wondering just how special that is.”

He stands close, proclaiming his case for how obviously special you are while you shut everything down for the weekend. You’re only half listening to the bit, admittedly. Mostly just basking in your excitement for the mini road trip and the weekend to come. You have no doubt that it’s going to be fun, even if it would be better with Kyle along too.

“Where are you headed off to?” Lucy asks.

“Hay Festival,” you answer shortly.

You’ve never been a big fan of Lucy, but lately she’s been insufferable. Talking over you during meetings, leaving you out of emails, throwing away papers at the printer. (Okay, you haven’t seen her do that last one, but you know.) Worst of all, she can help but make backhanded comments about every flower delivery.

“You’re not taking Brandon?” she simpers. “Something wrong?”

“He’s hanging out with a friend this weekend too,” you correct, “and he doesn’t like hay.”

“Shame that,” Johnny adds, sounding like it’s not a shame at all.

You haven’t told him much about Brandon – but you’re sure that Kyle has. From the face Johnny makes the rare times your fiancé comes up in conversation, he doesn’t think much of Brandon.

“Have fun you two!” your manager, Selene, calls.

You wave and shoot Lucy one last, unimpressed glance before stepping onto the elevator with Johnny.

r/CakeEater _OnBrand_ My fiancé is going on a weekend getaway with another man. I’ve posted in r/adultery and r/cakeeater before. I’m not looking for judgement or insults here. I really just want advice.

A little context: my fiancé and I are in an open relationship and it’s been like this for a few months now. I originally asked her to ope the relationship and for a while she was weird about it but lately she’s been getting sbetter. I thought she was finally getting used to me going out with other women and things were getting back to normal.

A few weeks ago, I noticed she was on her phone more. Like, all the time. Even at dinner when she used to be really picky about phones at the table. One day I came home from work and she was talking on the phone to someone. Giggling and laughing. When I turned the corner she was kind of blushing too. It kind of bothered me but I figured she was talking to a friend and just hot from cooking or something.

Lucy texted me pissed off one day, asking why I was sending my fiancé flowers but not her. I told her I hadn’t sent any flowers. I think they’re way too expensive for how long they realistically last and that they take up a lot of unnecessary space. But I thought it was weird that someone was sending my fiancé flowers and got kind of uncomfortable. That’s a pretty romantic gesture and her family isn’t the type to randomly send flowers either.

I tried taking her out on a date but she was all mopey again and turned her phone to ‘do not disturb’ so I wouldn’t even see if she was texting someone. We don’t have much to talk about now. I love her but she’s not a good storyteller or into very interesting things. All her ‘funny stories’ are just mundane things that happen during the day. We’ve run out of interesting topics about because we’ve been together so long. (That’s why I like having more than one partner.)

Yesterday she randomly started packing for a trip. I don’t even think she was planning to tell me until I asked her. She was packing a bunch of cute clothes too. Like dresses and tights and things like that. Stuff she only used to wear on our dates. I asked who she was going with and she just said ‘a friend’ which is weird because she would usually say the name of someone even if I don’t remember who they are.

Well today Lucy sent me a picture of my fiancé leaving her job with some guy. I couldn’t see his face because he was turned away, but I could see the side of my fiancé’s face and she was smiling at him. I got this awful sinking feeling in my chest like it was hard to breathe. It took me a few minutes to process that she’s going away for a weekend with a complete stranger.

Doesn’t she know how dangerous that is? Where did she even meet this guy? They’ll be gone all weekend so are they sharing a room? A bed? I nearly threw up thinking all these things as I called her.

I asked her to cancel her plans and come home. She seemed confused and reminded me that her plans were with someone else and it would be rude to ditch last minute. I told her I wanted to spend the weekend with her and that I’d been missing her. She seemed surprised and said that she’d see me on Sunday night, but she was looking forward to the festival with her ‘friend’ and wanted to go. As a last ditch effort I asked if her friend was more important than me, nearly begging at that point. She must have heard the desperation in my voice, but she just told me that she was already on the road and it was too late.

My fiancé doesn’t like lying but it’s hard to believe this guy was just a friend. Even if she sees him as a friend I know how men think and I doubt he sees her the same way.

She said some other weird stuff before she left about having someone over while she was gone. I don’t get it. How could she just casually invite someone else into our house like that? Has she had other people over? Is she dating now?

I’m not sure what to do. I don’t like that she put this trip over me. Should I talk to her about how bad this makes me feel? Should I call again and tell her to come home more forcefully? Am I blowing all of this out of proportion?

Edit: she doesn’t know that I’ve been seeing Lucy. I haven’t told my fiancé about any of the women I’ve been seeing. (mostly just Lucy and Rachel. I’ve done a lot of texting through apps and gone on a bunch of first place, but most women don’t put out right away and I usually can’t be bothered to get to know them better). Even then, I wouldn’t tell her about lucy. They don’t get along and never have. It would cause a lot of unnecessary drama.

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[slashmagpie]

Break Like an Artist

My fic for @hermitadaymay's Solstice Social Collaborative Fanwork Event! I was paired up with the wonderful @eydilily to create something spooky, dramatic and contemplative featuring Gem and Pearl, and it's been an absolute blast putting this together. Please go check out Eydi's art for this AU, it's absolutely gorgeous. CWs: description of a corpse, dismemberment, loss of awareness, fire/flooding/destruction, and depiction of a panic attack. Wordcount: 5.8k

There is a plague sweeping Pearl's hometown.

One by one, she watches as her friends fall to the infection, the colour and life drained out of them and leaving hollow, apathetic husks behind. Even with the devastating loss of her friends, her village, and her regular life, the worst part of this situation is not the infection.

It's that Pearl knows that Gem is the one spreading it.

[Read on AO3]

It’s a grey day in the fishing village that Pearl calls her home. Not that it’s ever not a grey day, at least not anymore. She stares out of her window at the thick encompassing fog that’s claimed the bay, at the desaturated buildings that dot the shore, and she twirls her paintbrush in her fingers. 

The canvas is blank, of course. She doesn’t remember the last time she sat down to paint and didn’t end up with a blank canvas. It must have been—months ago, at least. Back when the last monster from the depths had attacked, and not a single person had had the heart to fight back. When Tango’s house had been shattered in two, and Tango with it.

(He seems to be dealing well with the loss of his arm, at least. Or, as well as you can deal with anything, when the only things inside of you are all-consuming numbness and apathy. Pearl feels it in her chest, the yawning emptiness, and thinks that if she were to lose her arm right here and now, she also wouldn’t be able to summon the energy to care.)

She’d painted after that, though. She remembers it vividly, waking from a nightmare and running to her studio to capture lashing tentacles and inky waters and splatters of crimson blood. It’s a frenzied piece, a disturbing piece, and the moment she’d finished it she’d been filled with so much dread that she’d turned it around to face the wall and refused to look at it since.

The dread’s gone now. Along with the anxiety, and the uncertainty, and the fear. It’s all gone, and Pearl’s left sitting here, paints drying on the palette as she stares at an empty canvas.

Across the house, she hears her front door swing open and closed. A familiar voice shouts, “Pearl? Pearl, where are you?”

“Studio,” Pearl calls back, her voice flat. She continues to twirl the paintbrush as she waits for Gem to trek her way across the house to find her.

“Studio,” Gem echoes as she pushes open the door. “Oh, Pearl, are you painting again? Oh, I’m so happy for—oh.” The joy in her voice vanishes as she takes in Pearl, sitting on her stool, paintbrush raised and canvas empty. “Oh, Pearl…” 

Sympathy. Pity. Concern. Pearl can pick apart the emotions in Gem’s voice, even if she can’t feel them herself. She stares back blankly, because she can’t find it in herself to care about either aspect of the situation, whether it be her own inability to paint or the way that Gem’s looking at her like she’s a wounded animal.

“Come on,” Gem says softly, crossing the room and gently prying the brush from Pearl’s fingers. Pearl lets her. She’s not really painting, anyway. “Let’s get you to bed, shall we? A nap will do you some good.”

Pearl lets Gem help her up, lets Gem allow Pearl to lean on her for support as they make their way back to Pearl’s bedroom. It’s not like Pearl has any difficulty walking. She’s not sick, she’s not injured, she’s just…

Cold. Empty. Not quite lifeless, not in the way Mumbo had been when she’d last seen him, skin and eyes and hair all the same shade of grey-white-nothingness as he’d stared into the distance, completely unresponsive. Listless, maybe, is the better word. She’s halfway to a fate worse than death and she cannot find it in her to care at all.

She feels colder where Gem touches her. She looks down, and she’s not sure if it’s her eyes playing tricks on her, or if her skin is more desaturated where it brushes against Gem’s. She lets Gem help her into bed, lets Gem fluff the pillows and fuss around her, lets Gem sit next to her as she hands Pearl a bowl of soup (“Your favourite!”) and watches her to make sure she eats.

If Pearl were more herself, she would care about what Gem’s doing to her. Care enough to stop it, maybe. Care enough to—no, not to confront her. Every time she’d tried, the words had gotten stuck in her throat. Because she’s known for a long time who’s been behind all of this, behind the corruption leeching all colour from their village, their home, their friends—

And she’d never said anything. Too worried about Gem’s feelings. Too worried about their friendship.

…Pearl realises, as Gem goes to take the empty bowl and brushes her hands against Pearl’s, that she’s not worried anymore.

She waits quietly as Gem washes the bowl in her kitchen, chattering to fill the silence as she does, updating Pearl on their friends’ conditions. Her tone is bright and optimistic, even as her words are dour. Scar seems to be doing the same. Grian’s getting worse. Joel’s down to communicating only in broken phrases—but he should be fine. It definitely won’t be like Mumbo, or Cub, or…

Gem returns to Pearl’s room, regarding her for a long moment before bending down to give her a hug. “Get better soon, okay?” she says into Pearl’s ear. “It’s not the same doing my rounds without you.”

Pearl knows that she’s not getting better. So does Gem, so Pearl doesn’t bother pointing it out. She just nods, lets Gem withdraw, lets Gem run one last hand through her hair.

“You should rest, Pearl,” Gem says, stepping away from Pearl’s bedside. “I’m going to go check on Impy now—”

Pearl’s moving before she’s even properly registered it, grabbing onto Gem’s wrist with force, holding her in place. Gem freezes. Pearl looks up at her through strands of greasy, greying hair.

“Gem,” she says, and it’s the first thing she’s said in days, and her voice is hoarse and her throat sore from the strain.

“...Pearl?” Gem replies, and she sounds almost scared.

“Gem,” Pearl repeats, getting used to the sound of her own voice in her mouth again. “I know.”

Gem laughs. It’s a nervous, tittering sound, the laugh Pearl remembers from when they’d gotten into trouble together as kids. “Know what?” she asks, voice strained. 

“That it’s you,” Pearl says flatly. 

Gem stares at her.

Pearl stares back.

Gem swallows. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says. “Pearl—”

“I know you’re the one doing this to us,” Pearl says, more specific this time, choosing her words carefully, and Gem—

Gem tries to pull away.

Pearl tightens her grip. 

“Pearl,” Gem whines, eyes wide, tugging. “Let me go—”

“Why?” Pearl croaks, and Gem snaps her mouth shut.

---

Pearl’s in the midst of mixing a particularly tricky shade of green when there’s a loud, frantic knock on her front door. She sighs, setting down her brush to rest, and gets to her feet. “I’m coming, I’m coming, hold on!” she calls as the knocks continue, echoing through the house.

She pulls the door open and Tango’s there, a nervous ball of energy, just about ready to bolt. “Pearl!” he calls. “Pearl, come on, we gotta go—” 

He grabs her by the arm and drags her off. Pearl just barely manages to close her front door behind her.

“Wha—? Where are we going? What’s going on?”

“Something washed up on shore,” Tango explains. “The whole town’s there, c’mon.”

Accepting that she’s not going to get an explanation out of him, and now deeply curious about this something, she lets Tango lead her down to the shore by the lighthouse. Sure enough, the whole town is there, a chattering crowd gathered around a spot on the shore that Pearl can’t quite see. Impulse is standing on the edge of the crowd and catches sight of them, raising his arm in a wave. Tango makes a beeline towards him, ducking under the crowd, and Pearl follows behind, apologising to False and Keralis as she bumps into them.

“Did you decide what to do with it yet?” Tango asks as he comes to a halt and finally lets Pearl go.

Impulse shakes his head. “We’ve decided it’s Gem’s call,” he says. “After all, she’s the—”

He doesn’t finish his sentence as the crowd suddenly goes silent and parts for Gem, her hair wild and eyes wide behind her thick-rimmed glasses. She’s got her lab coat pulled on over her day clothes, clearly not prepared for this in the slightest. She reaches the front of the crowd and stops dead still, staring at the thing that has washed up on the shore.

Pearl follows her friend’s gaze, and sees it for the first time.

It’s a body. Of course it is. A corpse, taken by the sea and ravaged by the waves and washed ashore by the brutal bay currents. The body’s clothes are torn and sodden, the skin beneath so pale that it could practically be paper. Pearl is stricken, for a moment, with the mental image of her taking a brush to this canvas, filling it back in with colour, painting contours back into its skin, breathing life back into the body.

She shakes her head violently, banishing the thought. Where did that come from? This isn’t a canvas, it’s—

It’s a person. A person who was alive, and is now dead, washed up on the beach like a dead whale and just as much of a spectacle. His eyes are open but rolled back, only the whites showing, and his hair is white too, just as pale as his skin. It stands as sharp contrast against the dark fabric of his torn clothes, a mask wrapped around the bottom half of his face.

Pearl swallows hard and averts her gaze back to Gem, who looks just as disturbed by the body as Pearl feels. It takes Gem longer to pull her eyes away, to glance around the crowd. “I’ll—I’ll take it back to my lab,” she says. “Investigate, and—and give him a proper burial.”

The words reassure the crowd, a low chatter beginning up again. 

“Skizz, will you help me carry him?” Gem calls.

Skizz does, stepping forward from the crowd and helping Gem maneuver the bloated corpse. Pearl finds herself looking at it again, noticing dark striations in the skin, caught in glimpses between the tears in the clothing as it’s moved. 

She shakes her head again, forces herself to look away as the body is carried out and the crowd disperses. The image of the body lingers in her mind. Something settles uncomfortably in her stomach, and she wishes that she’d never opened the door.

---

Things go back to normal after that. Or, well, as normal as they get in the village, at least. False monitors the currents and warns of any incoming floods or monster attacks. Impulse and Tango work maintenance on the fishing boats that Grian and Skizz and Keralis take out into the bay. Mumbo runs the fish market. Cub and Scar come and go along the trading routes. Joel maintains security, or at least the illusion of it.

Gem hides away in her lab running experiments she never explains, and Pearl paints.

She tries to return to her usual fare, brightly-coloured landscapes with fantastical features, but something about her paintings rings hollow when she looks at them. She decides she needs a change, to switch things up and just relax, so she pulls out her paints and a blank canvas and begins with no intentions. Her movements are fluid and free and thoughtless and she falls into a flow state that lasts hours, until she blinks her eyes and awakes to find a portrait before her, a colourless face in full saturation.

The corpse’s visage, so alive she can’t believe it’s not breathing, stares back at her from her easel, and Pearl flinches like she’s been burned.

She hides that painting away, face turned towards the wall, and returns to painting landscapes. They come easier now, and for a time Pearl feels normal, as long as she ignores the canvas in the corner.

It’s Impulse who notices that there’s something wrong first. It’s not surprising that he’d be the first to pick up on it, really. Skizz is his best friend, after all. Of course he’d notice when Skizz stopped laughing, stopped joking, stopped drumming out tunes with his fingers on the side of his boat. And when Pearl sees him, she notices changes too—his skin paler, like he’s spent several weeks locked inside a basement instead of out in the summer sun, his eyes no longer their regular bright blue.

“Hey, Skizzly,” she greets brightly, trying to play at normal, throwing him a bone to grab onto.

Skizz just glances at her before responding with a flat, “Oh, hey Pearl.”

Pearl’s smile falters. “How are you feeling? Impulse told me you’re a little under the weather.”

Skizz shrugs. “Fine, I guess. Did you need something?”

Pearl swallows, something cold sinking in her guts. “No, no, just checking in on you.”

“Gem already checked on me,” Skizz says. “She said I’m not sick.”

“Gem’s not that type of doctor,” Pearl reminds him with a weak smile.

Skizz shrugs again. “She’s the only doctor we’ve got.”

Pearl tries her best not to let that unsettle her.

---

It’s not just Skizz.

It starts with him, but it doesn’t end there. Keralis is next, and then Grian. Mumbo gets sickest the quickest, going from his anxious, affable self to a nearly-unresponsive husk within a week. That scares them all, because even Skizz is still responding when spoken to, still moving when instructed to, even after nearly a month of being infected with… whatever it is that’s going around.

False gets sick without anyone noticing, sequestered away in her lighthouse until she comes into town for groceries looking like a photograph that’s been left in the sun for too long, and that’s when people really start to panic.

And that’s when Gem declares, with all the authority that being a doctor of anthropology afforded her in a tiny town with no real doctor, that she’s putting everyone into quarantine until they can determine the source of the illness. 

“I’m not sick,” Pearl tells Gem when her friend knocks on her door, dressed in full lab gear, her hair out of its usual ponytail and falling forward around her face. She’s pretty sure she isn’t, at least, having hyper-analysed the shade of blue in her eyes in the mirror every morning for the past month. 

“I know,” Gem says. “I want to—I need to—can I come in?”

“Yeah,” Pearl says, stepping aside. “Of course.”

Gem enters, heading down the stairs into Pearl’s living space and staring at the paintings on the wall. Pearl watches her for a moment before stepping closer, resting a reassuring hand on her friend’s shoulder.

“What’s eating you?” she asks.

Gem snorts out a laugh at that. “I’m not a real doctor, Pearl,” she says.

“I know that.”

“They all need me to be a real doctor for them. I—” She breaks off, runs an anxious hand through her hair. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I need help.”

Pearl raises her eyebrows. “I don’t know how I can help,” she says. “I’m even less of a doctor than you are.”

“I know,” Gem says. “But you’re my friend, and I trust you, and I need—please?”

She stares at Pearl, bright green eyes magnified through thick glasses lenses. Pearl has never been able to say no to those eyes.

“Okay,” she agrees, letting out an uncertain breath. “Okay. What do you need me to do, Dr. Tay?”

Gem laughs again, high-pitched and anxious, and Pearl feels hot and cold all at once.

---

They do house calls. Once a day, Gem and Pearl, and sometimes Impulse, will make a round of the village, checking in on everyone. Gem brings some of her lab equipment and a notebook, where she scribbles down all the readings she takes from her instruments and any observations she makes. After the first week or so, Pearl also takes to bringing a sketchbook and a small travel painting kit, attempting to record the desaturation rate in her friends’ colours. 

It doesn’t matter which way they look at it—the situation is bad, and rapidly getting worse. Most of the town is infected now, and Skizz is approaching Mumbo’s level of deterioration. Cub fell ill two weeks ago, and Tango—

Well, he’s not quite grey yet, but he looks washed out where he sits at his table, especially next to Gem, all bright copper and ocean blue and forest green. His voice is flat, all of the emotion in it gone, and while he responds in full sentences to Gem’s questions as Pearl attempts to capture the moulded-straw colour of his hair, none of his words sound like him. 

Gem wraps up her check-in, and Pearl follows her out, paints packed away in her bag and sketchbook held carefully so as not to smudge the paint. Impulse is waiting for them outside, staring out into the bay, where a low-lying fog has been hanging for days. 

He glances over at them, voice shaking as he asks, “How is he?”

Gem hesitates. “About the same?” she offers. 

Pearl shakes her head. “Worse,” she says, offering her sketchbook to Impulse, pointing out the differences in values between the colours she’d sampled from Tango two days ago to the ones she’d taken today. 

Impulse’s hands are trembling as he hands the sketchbook back to her. “What do we do?” he asks. “They just keep getting worse—Gem, what do we do?”

Gem’s eyes are fixed somewhere out at sea. Her expression is so scarily blank that Pearl would worry she was infected if not for how bright and vibrant she looks against the backdrop of the village. (Are the houses getting greyer? Surely not—surely it’s just the fog, and the fact that the sky has been overcast for a fortnight now—surely—)

“We look after them best we can,” Gem says. “I’m trying—every night I’m working on a cure.”

“And do you think it’ll work?” Impulse pushes.

“I have to,” Gem replies. “It has to.” 

Pearl swallows, and does not voice what all three of them are thinking: what if it doesn’t?

---

Impulse turns up one morning a shade dimmer than he had been the day before. Pearl notices immediately, her stomach lurching at the sight of him. He offers her a smile that’s smaller than his usual ones, a greeting that’s a little flatter than it would usually be. Pearl’s not sure if Gem even notices.

But Pearl notices, and her eyes sting, and she throws herself at him in a way that catches all three of them off-guard.

“Uh, Pearl?” Impulse says, stiff and uncomfortable beneath her. “You okay?”

“I’m sorry,” Pearl mumbles against his ear.

“Pearl?” There’s a peak of distress in his voice but it’s not enough. Gem hears it, too.

“Oh no,” she breathes.

“Okay, guys, seriously,” Impulse says, pushing Pearl away. “What’s going on?”

They just stare at him.

Realisation dawns across Impulse’s face. “No.” 

“Maybe…” Gem sucks in a breath. She reaches out to take his hand and squeezes it. “Maybe you should go home, Impy. Get some rest.”

“I’m fine,” Impulse protests. “I’m…” His protest crumbles under their gazes. He slumps, and Pearl knows that he would normally never crumble like that. He’d protest and fight back and keep working until he passed out on the docks and had to be carried back to bed.

“C’mon,” she says softly. “I’ll help you home.”

Impulse doesn’t protest that either. He knows, as well as the two of them do, how this ends. He knows that there’s no fighting this.

Pearl, very valiantly, does not cry about it.

---

With everyone except the two of them infected, Pearl manages to convince Gem to split the rounds, with her taking half of the houses, and Gem taking the other half, swapping halves every couple of days. Gem is reluctant, but she has no good argument against Pearl’s that this is more practical, and so she agrees.

And that’s when Pearl notices.

She thinks she’s imagining it at first, but the colour swatches in her sketchbook back up her suspicions, damning evidence she can’t ignore.

When she visits her rounds, she finds that the people she’s visiting appear to have stabilised, at least for a couple days, no greyer today than they were when she saw them the day before. And then she swaps with Gem, and notices that Gem’s half of the rotation are far paler, far less responsive, than they had been the last time Pearl had seen them. They stabilise for a couple days, and then they switch, and Pearl’s original rotation have deteriorated massively in the several days since. 

There’s really only one conclusion she can draw from that, and she doesn’t want to draw it. She doesn’t want to believe that the one responsible for this is—

The fog is a permanent fixture of the village now, blanketing the bay in a thick blanket of quiet. Pearl finds it hard to sleep, even the familiar sound of waves muffled by the mist. Kept awake into the early hours of the morning, she finds herself in the studio, a brush in hand, letting the paint take her where it will.

And where it takes her is familiar: the village, desaturated and coated in fog, dark looming shapes in the mist beyond, rising out of the ocean. And there, in the midst of the painting, a bright spot in all the gloom, is Gem, so vibrant she practically lifts off the page.

Pearl stares at it for a long, long time, and then places it face against the wall and tries her best to forget about it.

---

In all the dread, they’d forgotten something important.

The sea isn’t safe. It never has been. Growing up in the bay you learn how to weather the storms, to predict the tides, to flee from floods. You learn how to build barriers, and you learn how to rebuild once the ocean drags them down. 

Pearl knows that her village can handle the sea: she’s seen them do it time and time again over the years. Together, they move as a well-oiled machine, responding to threats from the depths with weathered ease. That’s why she doesn’t expect it, she thinks. 

There’s never been a monster attack that False didn’t warn them about.

But False isn’t capable of doing much of anything at the moment.

And so when the tentacles rise from the waves, there isn’t a warning.

Just a deafening krk-crash that wakes Pearl from a dead sleep with a bolt of adrenaline that’s nearly nauseating. She scrambles from her blankets, still in her pajamas, and rushes up the stairs to throw on her boots. It’s edging towards winter now, the weather much milder than the summer months, and though it’s not cold by any stretch of the imagination the chill of the air still makes her shiver. She grits her teeth, racing from her front door to the village proper, and there—

There’s a sea monster, dark purple tentacles reaching out to the shore, destroying everything in its wake. The fish market is half gone, and it’s awful, but it’s a relief, in a way, because nobody lives there.

“Gem!” Pearl screams into the night.

“Pearl!” she hears echo back, followed by distant footsteps, growing ever-closer. 

Gem’s face is flushed, her hair wild, her eyes wide. She’s also in her pyjamas, her lab coat that’s been ever-present for months now gone, and Pearl finds her eyes drawn to dark striations in her skin. They look like—

“Pearl,” Gem says again. “We need to get everyone out, away from the shore, up to the research centre—”

Pearl nods. “Got it,” she says. She points towards the docks and says, “I’ll head over there.”

Gem nods. “Be safe,” she says, and then she’s off again, pelting in the direction of the lighthouse.

Pearl doesn’t bother knocking as she throws Impulse’s door open. He’s still lucid enough that he’s been startled awake by the noise, though it hasn’t driven him to do much more than put his shoes on and stare out of the window at the dark shapes rearing up out of the fog.

“Impulse!” Pearl cries.

“Pearl?” Impulse says, glancing at her with dull eyes.

“We need to get people out,” she says.

There’s an extended pause, then, “Okay.”

“Can you get Skizz?” she asks. “Tango, too, maybe? I need to go to the beach, help everyone down there.”

Another extended pause, then a nod. “I can do that,” Impulse says. He moves too slowly, not driven by the same panic flooding Pearl’s veins, but it’s good enough. It has to be. Pearl doesn’t have time to consider the alternative.

She goes racing off for the beach. She throws open Keralis’ door first, relieved that he is, at least, wearing underwear when she drags him from his bed and into the night. She leaves him there while she grabs Grian from his hut, and then takes them both by the wrists, pulling them along behind her while she races for the cliffside.

It feels like hours that she races back and forth, grabbing her friends from their homes and dragging them in various states of comprehension to the safety of the cliff before running back into the danger zone. Grian’s hut is gone, and so is a large portion of the road. The tentacles have taken a chunk out of the farms further up the coast. Gem’s been taking the people she rescues a different route up to the research facility, the path that Pearl’s taking cut off to her by debris.

Once she’s got everyone on her side of town, she collapses panting on the grass, her lungs aching with the strain. There’s a fire somewhere down on the shore, someone’s lantern knocked astray by swinging tentacles. Her eyes burn just from looking at it.

A voice says, “I got him.”

Pearl looks up.

It’s Impulse, manhandling a colourless, greyscale Skizz.

Pearl goes cold.

“Where’s Tango?” she asks.

Impulse blinks. Slowly. Too slowly.

“Oh,” he says. “I’ll go get him.”

Pearl shakes her head, rocketed up to her feet by panic once again. “No, I’ll go,” she gasps. “You stay here.”

And then she’s off running again, beelining for Tango’s house, praying to any higher power that will listen that she’s not too late. Her lungs ache. Her legs burn. She can’t quite catch her breath. She’s shaking.

And then she’s knocking down Tango’s door, grabbing him from his bed against the far wall, dragging him away—

The roof coming down sounds like thunder, like the sky split open and gutted for parts. Pearl goes down hard, stars bursting behind her eyes, her breath coming out empty and then as a whine. She blinks, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the dark, for her ears to stop ringing, and that’s when she hears it.

It’s—not a scream. More of a whimper, or a wail, stretched out and awful and pained and punctuated by short, desperate gasps. It goes straight to her stomach, straight to making her sick, and she doesn’t want to look. Doesn’t want to move.

But, god, she has to, doesn’t she?

She wiggles her fingers, her toes, and lets out a deep groan as she pushes herself up onto her hands and knees. The world has narrowed in on itself, the open air of Tango’s house reduced to a crawlspace, and she shuffles down it, rubble and debris tearing her skin open and leaving bloody red marks on desaturated wood. It is a far cry from the blood she finds, practically brown with how much colour has been leeched from it. 

“Oh, my god,” she chokes. “Tango…”

Tango just moans in response. She can’t tell if he’s pale from blood loss or pale from the infection, but either way it has the effect of making him look half dead. He’s half buried beneath the rubble, body jerking with what she can only assume is pain, barely felt beneath the weight of numb apathy.

“I gotta get you out of here.” The words taste acrid against her tongue. Or maybe that’s the smoke. She can’t tell. “I’ve got you.” She grabs Tango by his good arm and grimaces. “It’s gonna be okay.”

It’s not a reassurance for him. Not really. Pearl’s familiar enough with his condition by now to know that he can’t really care about being okay at this point.

It’s more for her as she does her best to get leverage in the small space and pulls. 

When Tango screams, she knows it’s completely involuntary, an animal howl of agony that stops her short. Pearl gasps, tears on her cheeks, head spinning. “Please, no,” she begs, and she doesn’t know if she’s talking to him or the higher power that’s been ignoring her for weeks. “No, no, I gotta—I—”

“Pearl?”

“Gem!” Pearl cries. “Gem, please, I need—it’s Tango—he’s—”

“I’ve got you,” says Gem’s voice, familiar and close as footsteps pound across rubble. There’s a series of grunts and clunks as rubble shifts, and then there’s light pouring into the crawlspace, which is no longer so much of a crawlspace. Gem stares at the two of them, Pearl in tears on her knees and Tango half buried and lying in his own dull blood. 

“Okay,” she gasps out, and she sounds terrified. “Okay,” she repeats, steadier this time. 

Pearl wants to be relieved, but she’s just on the other side of hysterical. Gem’s holding an axe, which she must have used to clear the rubble, and she steps forward with it held between white knuckles.

“Hold him still,” she tells Pearl.

Pearl swallows. “Gem?” she whispers.

“Please.”

Gem glances down at Pearl, and god, she never has been able to say no to that, has she?

She shuffles forward, puts her weight against Tango, holds him still. Squeezes her eyes shut.

It doesn’t make it any better.

It doesn’t stop her from hearing the sick crunch of the axe cutting through bone or the blood-curdling scream Tango lets out.

It doesn’t stop her from feeling the sudden lack of resistance as she pulls Tango’s bleeding body away from the rubble, leaving his arm behind.

---

Pearl manages to hold it together until they’re able to get Tango safe and stable. Once the wound has been cauterised and disinfected and bandaged, and he’s left sitting with a mostly-unresponsive Skizz and an Impulse who’s just aware enough to be awkward about how little he feels for his friend, she walks away from the town’s refugees on the hillside until she can no longer hear them, and they can no longer hear her. She stands for a moment, surveying the damage below, the sun rising over the sea and the flooded streets and destroyed buildings, and she sucks in a breath that knocks her to her knees.

The panic attack comes in quick half-breaths and waterlogged wails, her hands gripping at her hair and pulling it hard enough to hurt. The world blurs around her as she chokes on saltwater and bile, her ears ringing with screams and funeral bells. When the hands settle on her shoulders she barely feels them—only feels them when they rise to her wrists and untangle her fingers from her hair.

“—earl? Pearl. Look at me. Come on, I know you can do it.”

“Ge-em,” Pearl chokes out. “I can’t—I—”

“I’ve got you,” Gem soothes. She takes Pearl’s hands in hers, squeezes them tight, real and grounding. “See, come on, that’s it. Breathe with me.”

Pearl blinks tears from her eyes as she tries to time her breathing to Gem’s. She’s not very good at it, her heart too quick and Gem’s too slow, but it helps, dragging her down from the high of panic. 

“That’s it,” Gem breathes. She lets go of Pearl’s hand, reaching up to push the hair out of Pearl’s face, cupping her cheeks in her palms. “See? Nice and calm. Everything’s fine, see?”

“Yeah,” Pearl agrees, and the words feel hollow. Her panic feels hollow, somewhere above her body, her soul sunken to somewhere below her knees. She sucks in a breath, lets Gem wipe tears from her eyes with her thumbs.

Gem is so bright. A searchlight in a storm, a ray of rising sun through the dark. The world seems to grey around her. 

Pearl reaches out, splaying her hand against Gem’s cheek, a clumsy echo of Gem’s own reassuring, grounding touch. Gem is still so bright, vivid enough that Pearl doesn’t think any paint could capture it. 

And Pearl, held in comparison, is grey and dull. A shade, drained of life.

She swallows. Lets out a shaking breath. Looks up into Gem’s green eyes, sees the fear and regret in them, and can barely summon her own panic or hurt in return.

“Oh,” she says, and the word falls like a stone, plunging into the depths.

---

Pearl lets out a breath. “It was the body, wasn’t it?” she asks, loosening her grip. “The one that washed up. It did something to you.”

Gem swallows. She pulls away, holding onto her own wrist where Pearl had dropped it, clutching it to her chest. “I’m so hungry, Pearl,” she whispers. “I fade so fast now. I need… I need…”

“You’re going to kill us.” Gem flinches at the words. “You know that, don’t you, Gem? You’re going to kill us. You are killing us.”

“I just need your colours,” Gem replies, a whine in her voice. “I just…”

“What happens when we’re gone, Gem? What happens when you’ve taken all the colours? What happens then?”

Gem stares at her. There are tears in her eyes. They don’t quite fall, but Pearl can feel them drip into her hollow heart. There’s an ocean between them now and Pearl doesn’t have the wits to cross it. She doesn’t care enough to cross it, and she doesn’t feel enough to care about that. 

“I have to go and check on Impy,” Gem repeats, her voice thick. “I’ll see you later, Pearl.”

“You won’t,” Pearl calls after her as Gem hurries for the door.

Gem doesn’t reply, just slamming the door shut in response.

Pearl sits in bed for a long time, staring at the wall with hazy vision. Her thoughts are muffled under the thick fog that chokes the village, and so when she finally stands, she’s not entirely sure why. She lets her body carry her back to her studio, picks up a canvas from against the wall, and places it on her easel. She sits down in front of it and stares.

Gem’s face stares back at her, the only alive thing in a dead and colourless world.

[changisworld]

“Why do you make me feel like this, pretty?”

fuckboy!hyunjin x reader

Word count; 5,902

Summary: After hyunjin took your virginity, you grew attached despite trying your hardest not to. You find out he hooked up with someone the day after it happened which broke your heart, making you cry.. but of course, hyunjin caught you crying. He didn’t really know what he felt, it being new to him, as he tries to refuse the silly ideas popping into his brain, he can’t ignore how much you being upset is making his heart.. hurt?? Surely he doesn’t like you too..?

18+ ONLY, MDNI, SMUT UNDER THE CUT.

©ANY translation, copy & paste, posting of my work is strictly forbidden for ANY posts/ writing i post.

main masterlist here

part 3 here

**This can be read on its own despite it probably being confusing but i highly recommend reading part 1!**

SMUT WARNINGS: spit/drool, PIV, needy reader, pet names, shyish reader, rimming( f rec), oral ( f rec), fingering (f rec), finger sucking, unprotected sex, jealous jinnie, edging???,pull out method, literally 1 spank, slight dacryphilia, jealous jinnie, soft jinnie, kind jinnie, hyunjins a tease obvs, slight aftercare, wayyy fluffier ending than last time you're welcome!!

You & Hyunjin walk off campus, you still hiding your face from him, embarrassed at the tears now staining your cheeks, your face tinged red, you also don't fail to miss the looks you & Hyunjin are receiving from other students walking past the both of you, his arm still around you & you can't help but feel judged, so you push his arm off.

"Forget the cafe, I'm just gonna go home, I feel.. sick. I'll see you later Hyunjin." you murmur, still not looking at him in the eye.

"Y/n stop being weird, just cmon. I promise to cheer you up." He replies back, reaching out to cup your cheek but you move your head before murmuring a quick 'bye' before walking away from him hastily, leaving him standing there, confused & a bit annoyed.

He watches as you turn the corner & he huffs before kicking a stone nearby. 'Why do I care she's actually upset? 'What did I do wrong?' 'I hope she's okay' & 'Shit how can I apologise' are all thoughts that race through his head, no matter how much he tries to shake it all off, he genuinely feels guilty. But why? He never feels sorry for the girls he fucks n chucks, so what makes it different? He barely even knows you? He only spoke to you for a week which is barely anything. He sighs before pulling out his phone & going onto his contacts, about to call Joy, another one of his side things, before deciding against it, instead calling his friend Jisung& asking to meet him.

⭑･ﾟﾟ･:༅｡.｡༅:ﾟ::✼✿　　✿✼:ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

Twenty minutes later Jisung meets him at the local dog walking park & they end up sitting on a bench, talking about random stuff before the topic of you comes up, but not because of Hyunjin.

“You’re lucky you got to partner up with y/n for that assignment, I got put with Changbin so obviously i fucking failed, tryna do that presentation on the spot was absolute torture, you still talk to her? she seems quiet as hell.” Han sighs, sipping his bubble tea through his straw & Hyunjin laughs.

“Ay! I actually helped her so shut up, just because you both have no more than eight brain cells, i’m just proof there is such a thing as looks & beauty. Nah, we haven’t really spoken since, just been busy i suppose & what the hell am i meant to say to her?” Hyunjin replies, a quick chuckle leaving his lips.

“What do you mean you’re proof that looks n beauty exist, y/n basically invented it you idiot. Wha'cha mean what are you meant to say to her? Did you fuck her too or something?" Han questions, leaning forward.

Hyunjin just kisses his teeth before nodding & Han just raises his eyebrows. "fuck, I didn't think someone like y/n would get around that way. Can you do me a favour n start speaking to her again n put in a good word about me I wanna approach her but she feels intimidating, you get me?" Once Hyunjin hears these words, a bad & gross feeling bubbles up in his stomach.. is what he feeling... jealousy?

"Uhh.. you're really not her type, she's not up for dating, she told me. Go try your luck with someone else." Hyunjin says in a bitter tone, not looking at the man in front of him & Han scoffs.

"You chat shit Hyunjin, stop gatekeeping! I'll just use my charms & trust me, we'll be fucking a week later n dating two weeks later." Jisung jokes, patting Hyunjins leg but he pushes it off.

"You're ridiculous Jisung, she won't want what's between your legs." Hyunjin spits out before standing up off the bench, stretching out & sighing. "I have things to do, you can keep day dreaming, I'll see you later. choke on your boba." Hyunjin jokes with Han & he spits out a bubble as a response before he walks away, leaving Han on the bench.

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He walks through the rest of the park, thinking about Hans words & he can't get over it. 'Why am I so jealous?' 'Who does he honestly think he is talking about y/n like that?' 'They wouldn't even look good together.' are things that keep racing through his head & he is getting more pissed off as the seconds go by.

He gets out of the park & he keeps walking on the pavement, not having an actual destination in mind.. until he seen you walking out of a random convenience store across the street & a lightbulb lights up behind his brown eyes.

He picks up the pace of his walk as he follows just far enough behind you on the other side of the road until you reach your apartment complex before entering & he can't help but feel like an absolute creep, but that doesn't stop him. He screenshots his location on find my Iphone, just so he won't forget where to go later on as he walks back the way he came, heading to the main line of shops near the campus.

He strolls around for around twenty minutes, looking at random little trinkets, bookmarks with the college logo on it, which he cringes at due to the look of it, before he keeps walking until he reaches a little florist shop.

He enters it, aimlessly walking around, fingertips grazing over a few roses & tulips, admiring the pretty colours as he sets his eyes on a bouquet of lillies. He picks it up, giving himself a better look at it before deciding he is happy with it, heading to the counter.

He places them down, not paying attention to the cashier as he looks at the little vases beside the register.

"Can I get this pink vase to- ohh, I didn't know you worked here Jennie, hiya." he says, surprised. "Sure. You know, Lisa doesn't like lillies, I suggest you get her daffodils, her favourite colour being yellow n all." she responds, smiling up at him. "Ah, they.. they're not for Lisa so I'll pass. Can you fill up the vase with a bit of water too? I think that's what you're supposed to do, right?" he says quickly, hand coming up to the back of his neck, the awkwardness filling the small space.

"mhmm. £29.11 is the total." She says in a cold voice, taking the tag off the vase as she turns around to the small sink, filling up the vase 1/3 of the way. She dumps the bouquet in the vase with no care at all before pushing it towards him, giving him the card machine. He pays, a strained, awkward smile on his face before saying thank you & leaving.

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After buying you a box of chocolates & a Vanilla bean smelling candle & following the path you walked on earlier, he ends up back outside your apartment complex.

He sits on the front steps, waiting for someone to leave the building so he can catch the door & once he is inside, he begins knocking on every door, talking to each person who answers in a quiet voice, Ignoring the confused looks of other students who recognise him who are all definitely wondering why he is knocking doors looking for you, making sure you wouldn't hear him & then refuse to open the door.

He reaches the fourth floor, mouth slightly dry from all the talking he has had to do & he is beginning to doubt his memory. He knocks on the third door & takes a step back, waiting for an answer as he hears footsteps & he can't help the smile that spreads across his face as you are the one who open the door.

"Surprise, & I'm not just talking about my pretty face. Can I come in?" he chirps as he raises his arms, making sure you see what he has brought despite it being almost all you can see, not missing the chance to give you an up & down look, you wearing black tight shorts & an oversized off the shoulder graphic shirt.

"Hyunjin, I told you I was sick.. How the hell do you know where I live?" you question, honestly just confused. "Does that matter? I asked a question, Don't leave me standing here I went to like twenty doors to find you!" he pouts. You roll your eyes & begin to shut the door but Hyunjin stops it with his foot.

"Okay okay okay! I followed you, but not in a creepy way I swear! I just wanted to.. apologise? But I knew you would ghost me If I text you." he says in a sulky voice. You groan before opening the door back open, his pretty face poking through the gap. "You are a creep, you know that? Why you apologising?" you question him, crossing your arms, not amused but slightly flattered despite not showing it.

"I'm not going to broadcast my deep, heart warming words in the corridor for everyone to hear, just let me inside, pleaseee." he pouts again & you just sigh before moving out of the way so he can enter, taking his shoes off as soon as they touch your laminate flooring.

You walk into your connected living room & kitchen before sitting on your corner kitchen counter, your legs swinging off it as Hyunjin follows behind you, looking around at the cute random decorations hung up on your walls & on the mantle pieces.

He places the flowers on your coffee table before walking back into your small kitchen & leaning on the opposite counter top, still holding the chocolates & candle.

"Okay, Can I give you my apology now? I rehearsed this to make sure I get everything right." He tries to joke but you just look at him with a blank expression before nodding, encouraging him to continue. "Okay, I didn't realise how much I've upset you & I'm sorry for not trying to check up on you sooner & stopped speaking to you. I partially didn't even mean to ghost you but I also genuinely thought you wouldn't speak to me anymore since you're always so concentrated on lessons & studying, I thought you would have thought I was getting in your way. I'm also sorry for fucking with that girl & you overheard it, if I'm genuinely being honest, I did it to try wipe my mind of you. I know what we did is a huge thing & it was wrong of me to have acted the way I did, if i'm being honest, this was the first time I did what we did so I just didn't really know how to act, but I'm genuinely sorry y/n. Chocolates?"

He blurts out, not taking his eyes off you as he feels his cheeks go hot, the nerves & also the way you're looking at him making him flustered. You both sit in silence for a minute, him waiting for a response & you thinking of a response.

"Gimme the box & light the candle for me, second drawer to your right n you will find a lighter. If you felt like this all week, You've still had seven days to come n tell me this but instead you've let me feel like shit for a week, this was the exact reason I was unsure to do it with you Hyunjin, in fear something like this would have happened & instead of just growing a pair & talking to me, you fuck someone else to just try forget?" You reply, your voice getting a bit shaky without meaning it, the feelings of it all hitting you again.

Hyunjin listens as he digs into his pocket & pulling out his own lighter & lighting it before putting it on the counter & he walks the few steps over to you, handing you the chocolate before standing right in front of you, leaning his hands on the counter on the outside of your legs, caging you in.

"Please y/n, don't think like that. I know I should have swallowed my pride n apologised earlier, I was just trying to convince myself I didn't give a fuck but I do, hence why I'm here. I honestly think you used those crystals & manifested this or something." he mumbles the last part, looking away from you, his ears going red after hearing his words out loud & your legs stop swinging as you pause at his words.

"What do you mean you actually give a fuck? What are you trying to say." you reply back, resisting the urge to reach out & stroke his hair. Hyunjin sighs & shakes his head. "Don't make me spit it out y/n, It's just gonna sound like a lie to you." You get an anxious feeling in your belly before taking his chin & guiding him to look back up at you. "Hyunjin, just say it, it's only me here anyway. Just say what you gotta say." you respond in a quiet but firm voice, honestly scared.

He doesn't have much option but to look at you as he lets himself melt into your hand lightly before taking a deep breath. "I.. care about you? I don't know, it feels weird but like... I genuinely felt like shit after how I treated you n i've tried to bury it but it just won't leave, I don't really know what it is about you n honestly it scares me." he says in a quiet, quick tone & your jaw drops.

You just freeze as you both just look at each other in complete silence not including the quiet crackling of the candle & your living room clock ticking. Hyunjin can't bare the awkwardness anymore as he gets shy for the first time in years, moving his arms to stand completely upright but you pull him in by the shirt to hug him, tears threatening to leave your eyes as his arms wrap around you in return.

"This better not be some sort of sick joke Hyunjin or i swear I'll kill you, you're gonna boost my ego to a fraction of what yours is." you half laugh as he nuzzles his face into your neck, inhaling your sweet smell. "It's not, dead serious. You're just different n I don't know how to feel about it, stop casting spells to make me attached to you. I've been itching to ask to see you all week, I wish I wasn't being so stubborn." he muffles into your neck, moving his head side to side slightly, his nose tickling your neck, making you lean more into him, chuckling at his stupid joke.

"Stop with the silly magic jokes, you're ridiculous. I want to say you're not forgiven since you need to prove to me you're not talking out your ass but I do accept your indeed heart warming apology & I appreciate it just more than the flowers n chocolate." you say in a soft voice & you feel Hyunjin smile against your neck before he moves & kisses the tip of your nose, smiling like a Cheshire cat.

"That's what I wanted to hear, I wouldn't be able to handle it if you had told me to fuck off, my first ever rejection coming from the first person I've ever bought a present for that isn't my mom." You chuckle at this before hopping off the counter, grabbing the box of chocolates that were staring at you.

"Rejection? You tryna say you like meee?" you tease, taking his hands before swaying them back & forth & he rolls his eyes, chuckling. "Was it not kinda obvious? I wanted to say it without directly saying it in case I embarrassed myself but... yeahhh I have a tiny crush, I think you made us soul tied or something." you just 'tut' at his remark but your face goes bright red at his confession, cheeks hurting from how much you're smiling.

"I'm touched. Got thee famous playboy hwang Hyunjin to like like me, not sure if it's a surprise but I like you too." You kiss his cheek before leading him to the couch as you sit on it, him flopping next to you. "Enough of the soppy talk for now or I'll get embarrassed, you can choose a movie while I get us a blanket." He just nods & you hand him the box of chocolates & he begins opening them as you scurry to your room to get your favourite fluffy blankets.

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You both end up watching a recommended Netflix romcom suggestion, both of you devouring your chocolates but you pay no mind to it.

Some point throughout, your legs end up swung over his as your head lays against his shoulder, him stroking your hair with one hand as the other hand caresses your thigh.

Every few minutes or so, you focus less on the movie & more on his touch as his hand slowly rises up your leg, then your thigh & his hand is now grazing against your inner thigh over your tight shorts, giving you goosebumps, which he doesn't miss.

This continues up until Hyunjin repositions himself, pushing your legs off him so he can lay down over your thighs, his view now sideways of the TV, not that he cares, not paying the slightest bit of attention anyway as you momentarily tense up beneath him.

You continue stroking his hair, sometimes digging your fingers into his scalp a bit to scratch it, making him let out a satisfied hum. You can't help but keep looking down at the beautiful man laying on you & you can't help but smile to yourself.

As if he can feel your eyes burning into his skull, he moves the blanket down your legs enough to expose your legs enough for him to begin planting little pecks on them, slightly tickilish but you don't miss the wetness now pooling under your shorts. "Stop teasing Hyune." you speak up, your voice quiet & he just chuckles.

"If you don't want me to tease, I won't complain if you lay back." he replies, not bothering to look up at you as his hand reaches to squeeze your thigh softly as he keeps giving your legs kisses, suckling at them slightly,

You think about what he says & you would be stupid to deny the chance, your pussy clenching around nothing. You lightly push his head up off you & he takes the hint, moving & you push the side of his arm, towards the edge of the couch & he looks at you slightly confused but does what he thinks you're hinting at, getting onto the floor right in front of you, looking up at you with his pretty eyes.

You give him a shy smile before you take it upon yourself to wriggle your shorts & underwear off, leaving your bottom half completely nude, biting your lip in anticipation.

"You really got this desperate since last time I saw you?" he teases & you put your hand in front of your cunt, covering it with how shy you've just started feeling but he is quick to pull it back off, looking at the small shimmer on your middle finger before licking it off in one go.

"Don't be shy, gorgeous. I've been just as desperate if not more, can I get a taste?" he says in a sweet voice, not looking away from you, stars in his eyes. "Please.. If you want to." you respond, hiding your face in your hands but he reaches up & swats your hands away yet again as his other hand begins to slowly drag through your folds, making your hips buck.

"Stop hiding, where's your confidence gone hmm? Do I make you that nervous? trust me, there's nothing I want more." he leans in & kisses right next to your lip before smirking at you & sinking back down onto the floor, blowing cold air onto your now soaking cunt, making your legs tense up & he tongues his cheek as he watches your face twitch.

He spreads your folds open, getting a better view of your hole, clenching around nothing before he licks a long, slow strip from your hole to the top of your clit, letting out a low groan in the process. "Taste better than anything y/n, I fucking swear." he says as he looks up at you for a split second. "eyes on me, if you look away I'll stop." he voices before digging in.

You do as he says & make eye contact with him as his mouth latches onto your cunt as he begins letting spit roll off his tongue, mixing with your juices just before slurping it back up, not afraid to make as much noise as the mixes of juices allow.

You weave your hand in his hair & play with his hair & scratch his scalp for him as he suctions his tongue onto your swollen button, both of you groaning at the same time.

"Hyune, so good" you whimper out, your breath shaky as your eyes struggle to stay open & you feel Hyunjin smile against you. He brings his fingers up to your clit before rubbing it in a steady rhythm as he lets go of before his tongue find its way into your opening before beginning to tongue fuck you & you throw your head back, your moans now louder than the TV still playing behind the both of you, your legs now closing around his head, not that he pays attention to that anyway, if anything he is enjoying it.

You begin to clench around his tongue which he remembers is your tell tail sign you're about to orgasm, your moans getting higher pitched & your grip on his hair getting tighter & he chooses to worm his tongue out of your hole before pinching your clit between his two fingers & dropping a glob of spit to it before giving it one more lick, smirking.

"I wanna try something I think you might like, turn over so you're facing your back to me, hunny." You huff at the beginning of a future orgasm beginning to appear suddenly bubbling away but you do as he says, slightly confused.

You get up on your knees & rest your elbows on the back of the couch, you now looking at the wall behind you. "Why am I fac-" you're cut off as Hyunjin spreads your cheeks & begins fondling them as he begins suckling on your pussy from behind, letting out a satisfied hum behind you as you begin kneading the couch until your fingers begin to ache, biting your lip to try hold back moans.

"G-gonna cum Hyunjin, keep g-going." you whimper, pushing yourself into his face, seeking even more from him if it's even possible & he gives you a quick slap on your ass as he removes himself from your cunt again, much to his own displeasure.

"Don't bite your lip y/nnie, I wanna hear you fully, Mkay?" he speaks from behind you as you yelp at the impact & he hums as he keeps kneading your ass, giving it a few kisses. "Your ass is to die for, you know that? Gonna taste it." Before you can even process what he says, your mind too full of lust to understand, he is letting a glob of spit fall past his lips & it landing right on your tightest hole.

You try jerk your hips away from him but he is quicker & pulls you back to him, keeping a tighter grip on your ass, keeping it spread as his tongue begins to graze over your pretty pucker, his eyes scrunching together as he smiles against you, tongue now drawing patterns on it as he lets go of one of your ass cheeks, going down to your leaking cunt again before entering two fingers, instantly finding the same G-spot that made you orgasm only a week or so ago.

Your hips buck at the new sensation & you let out a long mewl, letting your face fall onto the back of the couch as your knuckles turn white from how hard you're clenching on it.

Your pretty hole is clenching & pulsating on his tongue as he lets out a deep growl at your taste, so different compared to your cunt but still enjoyable, you're moans getting to an even higher pitch as his tongue enter inside you, swirling around as much as the tight ring will allow.

"Hyun- please l-let me cum, s-so- fuck!" you basically scream out, not even being able to find the strength to lift your head up to look at the man behind you as your pussy & ass clench around his fingers & tongue but right before you cum, Hyunjin pulls completely away, again & your legs shake from the painful pleasure of yet another stolen orgasm.

Hyunjin leans over so his clothed chest is touching your back & he tilts your head so he can see your pretty face & he sees your now tear soaked cheeks & your pretty, glossy eyes.

"Awww, pretty girl couldn't contain their tears, could you? I promise you can cum now, I don't have a condom on me though beautiful so do you just want my fingers hmm? or my tongue?" he questions as he strokes your now damp hair out of your face, pouting at you.

"J-just fuck me Hyune, j-just pull out." you whiimper back to him, your breath so unstable it's difficult to even push the words out. Hyunjin opens his mouth to re ask you, just to make sure he is hearing things right but you wiggle your naked ass against him & he bucks his hips before just nodding before kissing your shoulder & then shimmying his pants & underwear down, freeing his pretty cock.

He spits onto his cock, pumping it into his hand a few times, letting out a hushed groan before he aligns his tip with your pussy, rubbing himself against it a few times to coat his tip in your juices before prodding his tip against your hole, before pushing just the tip inside.

"I'm still gonna be gentle, it's only your second time, tell me if this position is uncomfortable." he speaks behind you & as you mumble out an 'okay' while your face now being mushed against the cushion again, he pushes his hips forward very slowly until he buries himself to the hilt, you both letting out a moan in unison.

He stills inside you, trying to not cum instantly from how hot your walls feel without the restriction of the condom he wore last time, his hands coming to rest on your hips as he waits for your signal to continue.

Your breath staggers as he pushes forward, the stretch being a bit painful but no way near as painful as last time & after a minute or so, you push yourself on his cock experimentally, making you both hiss.

"You- please move, mak-make me cum Hyune, p-please." you elongate the last word, turning your head to the side so he can actually hear you. He takes a deep breath & pulls out half way before pushing back in, the both of you letting out a whine as his balls slap against your clit, making it even more intense for you.

Hyunjin sets a steady rhythm, lightly using the tips of his finger nails to add sensation to your back, tickling it but also feeling nice as you know it will leave those pretty little red marks later on. Both of your moans & whines fill the small apartment, not even thinking about how your neighbours can one hundred percent hear you.

"Y/n yo-you're too tight, s-so warm." he breathes out, lifting his leg & standing it on the couch for a better angle as he keeps rutting into you, leaning over your back again to kiss your cheek, your moans going straight into his ears.

"To- so big hy-hyune, pleas-e lemme c-cum." you whimper, your eyes scrunching closed, the ends of Hyunjins hair tickling your face as he begins to nibble on your earlobe, your cunt clenching impossibly tight around his cock, almost suffocating it.

"c-cum with me baby, h-hold on for me." he groan back as he tilts his neck into an uncomfortable position just so he can kiss your lips. His tongue instantly enters your mouth & you suckle on it, tasting the remaining taste of your juices from what he hasn't already repeatedly swallowed, making you moan in content.

Hyunjin speeds up his pace slightly & your G-spot loves this, making your legs almost give out on the spot as your brain turns into mush. "I-in my s-stomach Hyun-deep." you babble out against his lips, barely even knowing your own name at this point.

As Hyunjin stands back upright after giving your shoulder a few pecks, his phone begins to ring. Your eyes spot his phone on the other end of the couch, where he was sitting earlier but he reaches over & declines it before shutting his phone completely off, throwing it to the side, his pace not slowing once.

You don't bother questioning it, instead focusing on the noises of your slick & his balls connecting together mixed with the sweat of the both of you, sloppy clapping noises of your skin connecting filling the room, your legs begin to give out as Hyunjin worms his fingers down to your clit yet again before rubbing it frantically.

"In your s-stomach hmm? You can cum for me angel, n-not gonna last, too w-wet n tight." he squabbles, breathing frantically & this i all you need to hear as your entire body tenses up as finally, your orgasm hits you like a brick wall & you let out a squeal & Hyunjin has to grip onto your hips as his life depend on it in order for you to not flop & slip off the couch.

Your noises & the way your pussy flutters around him is just too much for him to handle & as much as he doesn't want to, he pulls himself out of your wet, hot walls as his cum spurts down your ass & back, throwing his head back as his cock quite literally pulsates as his balls empty, a high pitched whimper leaving his lips, breathing staggered.

He comes back to his body quicker than you do & he helps reposition you so you're fully laying on the couch, trying to make sure his cum doesn't get onto any other surface.

He grabs his underwear & wipes the cum off your back in a comfortable silence, slightly twitching as he wipes it off. He leans over your back again before kissing your earlobe. "Did so well, so proud of you, still so pretty for me despite being sticky with sweat." you both weakly laugh as you turn onto your back before using the ounce of strength you have left to pull on his wrist.

"cuddle." is all you say as you pull on him until he lays on top of you, half his weight dangling off the arm of the couch as he lays his head on your chest, listening to your still racing heartbeat & he can't help but feel secure.

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You both sit like this for a while, talking to one another about what you both spoke about in a bit more detail & also just talk to each other about things you don't know about one another, things like family pets, favourite colours, favourite brands etc.

Hyunjin ends up powering his phone back on & you are both just scrolling through his for you page, when you remember his phone ringing. "Quick question hyune, who was it that called you? If it was important you coulda stopped to answer." you ask him, not lifting your eyes from the video playing on his phone screen, not really thinking too much of it.

"Don't stress it, it was just someone I'm not gonna be speaking to anymore." he replies in s tired voice, still scrolling. His reply slightly confusing you. "Who? I don't mean to be nosey or anything but now i'm curious." you respond back, your fingers in his hair now pausing.

Without saying anything, he switches apps, onto his call log & it's Lisas name at the top.. nineteen missed calls. He just sighs as he presses on the 'more' option before deleting her number & deleting the Imessage conversation without even bothering to read her spam of texts, yelling, crying & cussing him out before switching apps back onto tiktok without saying a word & you just blush, your hands cupping his cheeks from above, your thumbs just below his eyes.

"You're cute." you say as you squeeze them playfully & he just 'tut's but still, he melts himself into your touch.

I'm not completely sure if I want to leave this story as a two parter orrrrrr do a third n final part but to everyone wanting a happier ending here you all are!

Tags: @troublemaker02 @ismokeeweed @lmhcats @isagerada @tsunderelino

[kayesfanfics]

Being Friends with Benefits with Gambit

Warnings: NSFW, AFAB reader, mentions of cheating, one sided love, love triangles around every corner, Morph lowkey has a crush on you

You and Gambit had always been flirty with each other, but nothing that got physical, at least until he came to you one day. He was sick of chasing after Rogue when she didn’t want him back, so he wanted to both make her jealous and let out some pent up energy. You decided to indulge him, admitting to yourself that you really did need a good lay, and you wanted to see Rogue get jealous because of you. So you agreed and let him lead you to his bedroom, which happened to be a couple doors down from Rogues’

After that first night, the two of you went to each other when you were either horny, frustrated, jealous, or all of the above. You didn’t explicitly tell the team but they all knew, having either heard you themselves or hearing it through the gossip that quickly spread through the Mansion. Rogue had shown she was a bit upset, but she also couldn’t blame Remy after making him chase after her and leading him on when she was still shacking it up with Magneto. Still, that didn’t stop the pang in her heart when she saw him whisper to you before you giggled and followed him upstairs. You and Gambit both knew you were hurting her, but Gambit was sort of okay with it and you egged him on, saying she deserved it for leading him on all these months

You watched with disdain as Gambit’s eyes were on Rogue across the table, whom was not paying him any attention. You longed for Gambit to look at you that way, but his heart was still set on the southern belle, yet his dick was set on you. You convinced yourself you were okay with that, thinking that at least he came to you for something, even if it was just sex. But truly deep down, you wished he came to you for so much more. For now though, you pined after him as he pined after Rogue.

“Meeting dismissed. Gambit, Y/N, Jubilee, don’t forget you’ve got the Danger Room with me in an hour. Good luck.” Scott grinned, before leaving the table to go tend to his pregnant wife.

“Looks like we’re gonna get our asses kicked together, chere.” You smiled at Gambit, using the nickname he used on him.

“Yeah, looks like.” He mumbled, watching Rogue leave the room, no doubt headed to Magnetos office. You glared at the back of her head, jealous that Remy was so focused on her that he couldn’t even see you throwing yourself at him right next to him. You glowered and left the table, crossing your arms, knowing he wasn’t watching you leave. You went towards the kitchen to get a drink, definitely needing a beer before fighting Wolverine soon.

“God, that’s gotta suck hard.” You heard a playful voice from somewhere behind you. You turned and saw Morph grinning at you like a creep from the hallway, before he jumped onto the counter you sat at.

“No shit, Morph.” You grumbled, taking a swig of beer as you wallowed in your self pity. “I just…I don’t get it! Why can’t he see I’m better for him? She doesn’t pay him any mind!”

“That’s what he’s thinking about her and Magneto,” he shrugged. “You can do better than him, y’know? You deserve someone who pines after you, Y/N.”

“Yeah? Like who?”

“I don’t know…maybe-“

“Oh, this is pathetic.” You both turned to see Wolverine watching you two from the fridge.

“What is?” You asked, looking at Morph in confusion.

“You two! Both of you! All of you! It’s ridiculous, really.” He grouched at you, grabbing a beer for himself.

“Aren’t YOU pining after Jean?” You teased, making him glare at you and Morph snicker.

“This ain’t about me, I’m talking about you! Morph after you, you after that southern weasel, him after Rogue, Rogue after magnet man!” Wolverine ranted before chugging some beer.

“What do you mean ‘Morph after me’?” You asked in confusion, looking up at Morph’s embarrassed face.

“Nothing! He means nothing!” Morph glared at Wolverine, who simply rolled his eyes and went back to his beer.

You grumbled in frustration, finishing your beer and tossing it before leaving. Everything was so confusing in this place, there were love triangles everywhere you looked and apparently, you were in a few of your own. You just wanted Remy to look at you how he looked at Rogue, why was that so hard?

*later that day…*

“Ya know jus’ how ta rile Gambit up, don’ ya chere?” Remy growled in your ear as he kicked shut his bedroom door behind him, your lips locked on his jawline, leaving large and dark hickies behind as your hands clawed at his trench coat. He moaned slightly at your actions, his hands feeling up your body that he carried in his arms, your legs wrapped around his waist and his hands grabbing handfuls of your ass and plush thighs as he walked the both of you over to his bed. His room was dark and smelled of his colonge, his sheets surprisingly soft as he laid you down on it, immediately climbing on top of you and letting his hands trail up your sides to your breasts, squeezing them and making you toss your head back and bite your lip as he played with them.

“Remy, please!” You whined, desperately needing to feel his touch without your suits blocking his skin. He raked his hands down your chest and abdomen before holding both your thighs in his hands, keeping them wrapped around him as he started to attack your neck with his soft lips. You moaned and grabbed a handful of his wild hair, pushing him closer to you as he sucked at that sweet spot behind your ear that sent shivers down your spine, making your back arch off the bed and press your clothed chests together.

“Why ya always gotta mess wit’ me durin trainin, dollface? Nearly fucked me right there in front’a ol Morph and Scott.” He said between kisses, his red and black eyes watching your face as you moaned and but your lip for him.

“I can’t…can’t resist you!” You pulled his hair so his lips would meet yours in a frantic kiss. “So handsome…so sexy…so wonderful…” you moaned between kisses, out of breath but not caring as you kissed him again and again.

“Aw, you charm Gambit, mon cherie~” he smiled and pulled away from the kiss, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it somewhere behind him. “How bout you show Gambit how sexy he is, huh?”

You smiled excitedly as he got off you so both of you could undress quickly, tossing clothes carelessly onto the floor, so focused on each others bodies you couldn’t care less about the mess. As soon as the both of you were undressed, you grabbed Remy by the shoulders and pushed him onto his back, climbing on top of him and straddling his waist, your pussy sitting atop his dick but not penetrating yourself just yet. You started with kissing his chest and teasing his nipples with your tongue as he folded his arms behind him to watch the show, his usual shit eating grin on his face as he watched you ravage his body. Your hands glided along his sculpted abs, following his happy trail down to his cock, one hand palming it while the other continued to feel up his body. After some more teasing, he bucked his hips up into your hand and raised an eyebrow at you, giving you the signal that he was getting tired of your teasing.

“So impatient~” you purred, trailing a finger down his chest as you crawled down the bed until your face was level with his cock. You grabbed it fully in your hand finally, making him sharply inhale as you started to move your hand slowly up and down his shaft. His arms moved to grip the sheets as you opened your lips to suck on his tip gently, swirling your tongue teasingly and watching him squirm below you. You smirked with a mouthful of his dick until his hand grabbed your hair and shoved you down, his cock quickly hitting the back of your throat, making you choke and gag around him. He heartily laughed at your reaction as he moved your head at the pace he pleased, eventually letting go once you found a good rhythm for him. You gripped his thighs when his hips bucked up into your face, warning you that he was about to cum. You braved yourself by squeezing his thighs until his semen sprayed down your throat, then rubbed his thighs as you swallowed everything he gave you.

“Fuck, chere!” Remy panted as he came down from your high, watching you sit up and wipe your mouth elegantly, your eyelashes batting at him sexily as he caught his breath. He suddenly sat up and pushed you face first into the bed so your ass was up and your face buried in the covers. You moaned as you felt his hand grab a handful of your ass and grope it, before smacking it hard enough to leave a red mark, making you yelp and grip the sheets beneath you. “Think ya can take Gambit now?”

“Yes! Please, Remy! I need you so badly!” You begged him, tilting your head to make eye contact with him behind you. He smirked and slapped your other cheek, chuckling when you squeaked and buried your face into the covers to hide your blushing face. You gasped when he tugged your hair harshly, before feeling the tip of his cock prod at your entrance. Your back arched impossibly more as he slowly entered you, whining as you felt every inch of him in detail slip into you.

He leaned down to press his chest to your back and place a few kisses on your bare shoulder, asking, “Ya alright, chere? Ready for Gambit?”

You nodded desperately and soon felt his cock pumping in and out of your pussy. You let out a choked out moan as he picked up his pace, hearing the smack of his hips against your ass as he thrusted harder and harder. You whimpered out his name pathetically like a prayer, before feeling his free hand slip beneath you and his fingers beginning to rub and pinch at your clit. You cried out at the feeling of all this stimulation at once, Remy’s skilled fingers and hips fucking you just right into his mattress.

“R-Remy, please! Fuck! Rem, I-I’m gonna…ah!” You screamed as he pistoned in and out of you, his hand pulling your hair harshly and his fingers playing with your clit expertly. “Please please please please please! Gambit! R-Rem!”

“Cum fer Gambit, mon ange! You can do it!” He huffed, out of breath from the workout of fucking you. You gripped the sheets so hard your knuckles turned pale as you shut your eyes, feeling the coil inside of you snap with one last harsh thrust of his hips into your pussy. Gambit slowly fucked you through your orgasm, pulling out and rubbing your pussy softly as he set your shaking body down on his bed, getting up and heading to his bathroom. You heard the sink run, before he returned with a washcloth to wipe down your inner thighs. Your chest heaved as you caught your breath, your abdomen spasming as you came down from your high.

Once clean, he tossed the wash cloth onto the floor with the rest of your clothes and got back into bed with you, tugging the covers over you as he pulled you to his chest. You cuddled into him, hands around his abdomen and face buried into his hairy chest. He mindlessly played with your hair as the both of you relaxed and rested together, holding the other in comfortable silence as your eyes began to feel heavy.

“Remy?” You shyly spoke up, finally breaking the silence.

“Yeah chere?” He asked, not moving his eyes from staring up at the ceiling.

“I um…what are we?”

You felt his hand stop playing with your hair and his breath hitch, before he let go of you and sat up, fidgeting with the covers as you slowly sat up with him, holding the covers up to your chest.

“What’s this about, mon chere?”

“You know what it’s about. I can’t…I can’t keep doing this if this is all we’ll ever lead to. I have too many strong feelings for you to do this to myself. I…I love you, Remy.”

He finally looked you in the eyes, and unreadable expression on his face, before he slowly dissolved into laughter. You glared at him and smacked his shoulder, pouring that he wasn’t taking this seriously.

“I’m, I’m sorry, Y/N! Gambits sorry, it’s just…why does this shit always gotta be so damn complicated?”

“You’re telling me.” You grumbled. “Well? What are we? Answer me.”

“We are…we are friends with benefits currently, no?” He grabbed one of your hands. “Y/N, Gambit loves ya very much, it’s just…he also loves Rogue still too. He couldn’t give ya the full attention ya wanted, not right now at least. It ain’t fair to ya, but I love ya both, at least for now.”

You looked at him sadly, despite already knowing he still loved Rogue. You thought about how Morph felt the same way you did about him, and how Gambit felt the same way about Rogue. It was a complicated love triangle…square? Whatever. It was complicated, full of strong feelings, but you knew what you all felt was real and valid for each other.

“I think I can live with that for now.” You sighed, giving him a sad smile before leaning in to kiss him.

[serqphites]

been sick for so long and all i need is abby to take care of me like the good girlfriend that she is !!! also look at her lil smile im acc deceased nobody speak to me ever again

16+, modern!au, sfw, throwing up (r!), this is short and ass

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do not even THINK about lying to this girl about your sickness… she will not buy a single second of it.

"abby i promise you i'm-" sneeze, "fine..." is there even any point trying to defend your case any longer when abby is looking at you like an unimpressed, disappointed mother with her hands on her hips?

she's already called issac to tell him that she isn't going to be in work until you're better. he tried to refuse and order her to come in, but abby didn't back down and stood her ground until he eventually backed off because nobody is more important than her girl!!

she quite literally cannot leave you alone, always rushing whenever she has to leave your side just in case you need her (she definitely trips and eats shit on the stairs because she was trying to get back to your room a lil too fast)

laying on her chest!!! her big arms wrapped around you and holding you close, kisses being peppered atop your head whenever she enters a cutscene in whatever game she's playing because you begged her to let you watch her play. it took a little convincing because abby just wants you to sleep and get the rest you need, but the second you flashed her those sad puppy dog eyes she was handing you the controller to let you pick out a game for her to play.

this girl always has tissues on her, stuffing her pockets full of them so she's ready for whenever you need them

i can just picture you making those funny noises people do before sneezing and abby practically TELEPORTING to you and shoving a scrunched up tissue in your face. she would be so proud of herself too and just look at you like "did i help? :D" yes you did sweetie you did such a good job!!!

you can’t convince that this girl doesn’t make the best grilled cheese and homemade tomato soup known to mankind, it’s always her go to when you’re sick (not that you’re complaining because it’s INCREDIBLE)

not being able to sleep because you can’t breathe and you’re just in so much pain, so abby lays awake with you until you eventually fall asleep :( unless she knows you’re okay and asleep she physically cannot fall asleep, her mind won’t let her.

abby for sure keeps a bucket on her side of the bed for in the middle of the night (she doesn’t want you trying to reach for it and accidentally falling and hurting yourself)

abby is jolted awake almost immediately once you yourself wake up with a startle, shooting up into a sitting position as your hands fly to your mouth. she’s springing into action without even realising it, reaching down as quickly as possible to snatch the bucket and place it into your lap. “in the bucket baby, good girl there you go” she mumbles in that raspy sleep voice, one of her hands keeping a hold of the bucket in case you can’t while her free hand moves up to hold back your hair.

abby running you a bath with all of your favourite essentials lined up ready for you (need that). oh and she is 1000000% washing your hair and body for you, she can’t have her baby tiring herself out now can she?

even when you start to feel better she’s still just as attentive, you assure her that she can stop and just take a break but abby just continues whatever she was doing like she literally can’t hear you LMAO

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a/n: i’m genuinely so sorry this is so bad 😭 im still sick and barely had the energy to write this but i just wanted to post something SO bad. hope you’re all having a good day/night !! <3

[yourdeepestfathoms]

The Larks and Being Sick

Cole

Will still try to push themself to perform, but even they have their limits

Conks the hell out when they’re sick, and they’ll sleep for hours (Perrine thought they died once)

Loses their voice. Thinks they’ll never be able to sing again.

Hand tremors won’t let them play their instrument

Gets flustered easily with a lot of affection and care (like if they have to be spoon fed because they’re too weak to hold a bowl themself)

Tries to deter cuddles because they don’t want to get anyone else sick

Emetophobic, and ends up making themself more sick by stressing out over possibly throwing up

Clementine

Super cuddly when they’re sick (usually SOMEONE gets sick after them because they were cuddling)

Mainly because they get really bad chills, so they just want to snuggle up to someone to keep warm

Quiet and mumbly

However, they will ramble deliriously when their fever gets too high

PILED with blankets (which Perrine will have to confiscate so they don’t get overheated, much to their dismay)

Kingsley

A big whiny baby when he’s sick

SUPER overdramatic

“I’M DYING!!!” “You have a cold.”

There’s sometimes a little bit of a “boy who cried wolf” situation with him, where he dramatizes how sick he is, but the others would never leave him to fend for himself, even after all the stuff he pulls for fun

When he has to be spoon fed because he’s too weak from the sickness, he’ll somehow find the strength to make a joke like “chop, chop, peasant!” (Perrine once considered pouring the water she was helping him drink over him)

When he’s really sick, he’s super lethargic, and it’s jarring to see him so worn out when he’s usually the most energetic in the group

Likes to lay his head into the lap of one of the others so they’ll play with his hair, soothing him

Will sometimes force himself into the lap of one of the others (mainly Perrine because she’s the big sibling of the group)

Perrine

Hates being taken care of, so she will act like she’s perfectly fine (she’s not)

Will refuse any and all help until she physically can’t move anymore—and even then, she’ll be stubborn

Pulls out the “but I’m the oldest!” card whenever anyone tries to take care of her

“You’re sick.” “No, I’m not.” “You’re burning up.” “I’m naturally warm.” “You’re shaking.” “It’s just a little cold.” “You literally just threw up.” “I meant to do that.”

She worries about the others when she’s sick in bed. What if something happens? What if they burn the house down while cooking?

Cuddly when she’s ill, but she doesn’t go out of her way to ask for any affection. However, she certainly won’t refuse any…

Easily becomes a little stir crazy from laying in bed. She also gets bored fast. She’s wasting so much time just laying around!

Wears her mask 24/7 to hide how pale and flushed she is from fever (the mask is making her sweat bullets)

Once threw up on stage and then passed out mid-performance because she underestimated how bad she felt (everyone was in a state of shock. she had to be dragged offstage by Cole and Clementine while Kingsley distracted the crowd)

Another time she was making breakfast for the group and fainted, and when she woke up, she was covered in oatmeal from managing to bring the bowl down with her

Would rather starve or die of dehydration than have one of the others spoon feed her

One time, ALL of the kids were sick at once, but Perrine pushed through it to take care of the others (she felt like death after, but anything for her friends)

[maxlarens]

I got a lot to say so it might be long,

starting with, thank you for the Charles smau and the Lando fic <3

it took me time to choose an emoji lol but I've been doing an internship and time goes by way too quickly, but I decided to go for the strawberry one 🍓

and since you said you wanted to write for driver! reader, and that she was very intense about driving, maybe you can write something about her racing while she's sick/not feeling well but she still wins the race

woo hi again!!! literally no big deal! i hope ur internship is going well, it’s awesome that you’re doing one!! but yeah literally real life is always the priority as much as i’d also like to spend all my time on here lol. but anyway yay the strawberry is super cute 🍓🥺

and YES lol driver!reader is consuming my thoughts right now. i have other things i should be writing instead of this but i smashed this out in a few days😭 i decided not to make it a win because i have a thing brewing for driver!readers first win and i didn’t want to use up all my ideas for that. anyway!!! as usual thank u for the ask and pls enjoyyy 🤗

OP: extraordinary machine

pairing(s): oscar piastri x mercedes driver!reader

summary: you push yourself to your limits. (also sorry i simply don't know enough technical terms about racing for this to be fully accurate but i hope it works)

word count: 3.4k+

Here is a fact— you’ve got a fever of 39.4 degrees.

Here is another, indisputable fact— you’re racing in Imola today.

The fever had come on overnight after a persistent tickle in your throat all weekend. A mildly sore throat had turned rapidly to a snotty nose, full body chills and sweat pouring off you like you’d just run a marathon. You’re wearing a puffer jacket over your racing suit and it’s twenty-nine degrees out. You feel freezing, you feel delirious, and you’re eating Sour Patch Kids by the handful to keep the sugar rush going. Your race engineer, Rachel, keeps telling you that it’s okay if you can’t race. George can step in, I promise. You keep telling her I’m fine. I’m fine. I can race. But the expression on her face says she doesn’t believe you.

You’re telling practically everyone who’ll listen that you’re getting in that fucking car today. Rachel, George, your mum who keeps calling. Lewis keeps looking at you like you’re about to keel over and die and you want to scream at him you did this! Brazil 2015. You had a fever. You got on the podium. If I can’t do this and you can, what does that mean? But you don’t because that’s your 39.4-degree fever talking and this isn’t about being better than Lewis. It’s about knowing without a doubt that you can still get in that car and race your ass off.

Your phone keeps buzzing with texts from Susie that reassure you that you’d be disappointing no one at all if you had to let George take over this race. You’re not letting down women everywhere and you’re not letting down the team. I know Susie, you keep saying, but I’m still racing.

You know you’ve got to convince Toto when Rachel starts a hurried conversation with George and he starts grabbing his fireproofs like it’s a sure thing he’ll be driving in your place. Bundled up in your coat like it’s the middle of winter, you stomp over to Toto’s office and barge in.

“I’m racing,” you tell him without any preamble.

His head snaps to look at you, expression only mildly surprised— not that you would even notice if you didn’t spend so much time around him. He gives you a once over, eyes lingering pointedly on your jacket and then he raises his eyebrows, “It is twenty-nine degrees outside.”

You suck your teeth in frustration, “I know. The car will be hot. I can race.”

He frowns.

You plead, “Toto. Do not take me out of that car. I can do this.”

He shakes his head, “I can see you sweating from here. You’re not well.”

You shake your head frantically, ignoring how your vision starts spinning, “Let me race. If I fuck up you can put George in the car for Monaco. If I fuck up you can even replace me. I don’t care. Just let me drive today.”

Toto’s face pinches in the way it does when he’s considering something, you can see cogs turning in his head as he evaluates what you’ve said and decides if he should listen to it.

He sighs, “I am not putting that kind of ultimatum on you,” your heart stutters and stops in your chest, and you hold your breath, “Okay. Against my better judgement, I will let you race today.”

You let out an audible breath, it edges out into a sob that makes your aching body curl into itself. You press the heels of your palms into your eyes for a moment to suppress the urge to give in to your fever. It would be easier to give up, it would be easier to let George take your seat for the race so you could crawl into bed and cry the fever out. But none of this has ever been easy for you. You’ve fought tooth and nail to get here, you won’t forfeit a race and let people say you took the easy way out.

You look up. Toto looks concerned.

“Don’t make me regret this.”

“You won’t.”

You practically stumble onto the asphalt before the national anthem, passing your coat off to Rachel while your trainer wipes your forehead with a towel as if you’ve just finished a full-body workout. Your shoulders feel tense, you can’t stand up straight without shuddering so you’re hunched over awkwardly hoping it doesn’t come off looking too strange.

People are still milling about, setting things up while the drivers assemble. You don’t really notice on account of the fever state you’re in, but you end up standing between the McLaren boys. You must brush against Oscar because he looks down at you, eyebrows furrowed, mouth set in a line and his eyes wide like a puppy dog. You get lost in them a little— because of the fever. Definitely.

“Dude,” Oscar says to you, “You’re really hot.”

On your other side, Lando breaks into a fit of laughter. You frown, your brain trying the puzzle through the sentence. You feel foggy, your eyes feel heavy. You need more Sour Patch Kids, or a shot of espresso, or five Red Bulls. Max could swing it for you.

Oscar leans past you and swats at Lando’s shoulder, “She’s burning up, stupid.”

Lando’s laughter pauses, and he says seriously, “Oh shit.”

Suddenly, you’re being twisted around and you’re wincing at the contact on your shoulder that makes it ache even more. Lando puts a hand on your forehead and then immediately rips it away.

“Eugh. You’re sweaty.”

The back of Oscar’s hand replaces it. You twist away, brushing it off.

“You’ve got a fever,” he tells you, his voice thick with concern for you, “Have you told anyone? Does Toto know? Lewis?”

Instead of answering you press a hand over your eyes and crack your neck, trying to work through some of the stiffness in your back. You roll your shoulders and stand up as straight as possible, pushing through that aching, sickly feeling that runs through your whole body. When you finally drag your hand from your face— a thin sheen of sweat coming with it— Oscar is staring at you with a deep-set frown on his mouth. At his shoulder, Lando looks at you with a markedly less severe, but still concerned, expression.

“I’m fine, Oscar,” you insist.

You’re not. He knows you’re not. It doesn’t matter, you don’t want to seem weak. Not barely thirty minutes before the race. You can’t have either of them thinking you’d be easy for an overtake or that you’ll back out of a fight first. Off the track, fine— you’ve been vulnerable and honest with both of them at times. On the track is a different story. This is Formula One. You’re not here to make friends. They are not here to make friends.

“Mm,” Oscar hums, “Pretty sure you’re not.”

“You’re sweating bullets,” Lando adds, “Can see it from here.”

Something white-hot and pissed off flares up your spine. Oscar is not this kind of person, even on track; but the suspicion that he’s just trying to eliminate you as competition rises anyway. You think it because if the situation were flipped, you’d be weighing the pros and cons of having a sick driver on the track. Their weaknesses, what it means if they’re distracted. It doesn’t make you a good person, but you’re already pretty sure you aren’t one.

“I am fine,” you bite.

Oscar’s expression drops. Into something not quite offended… accepting, maybe? Resigned? It closes off to you, is what you mean. That’s fine, you’re trying to close yourself off to him. You’re re-drawing a line that you’ve been crossing without a thought for at least two years now. You’re not here to make googly eyes at Oscar and let him put his hand on your fever-ridden forehead and have him reprimand out-of-line, so-called professionals for you. You’re here to get in that car every Sunday and put your life on the line for a shiny trophy and fucking glory. Even if you’ve got a fever. Even if you’ve got a weird crush on Oscar Piastri.

“I’m racing,” you add in a different tone, feeling as if you’ve been a bit harsh on a well-meaning Oscar, even if you mean what you’re thinking.

Oscar nods, and says, “Okay,” in a way that really means, ‘If you say so, then it is’.

In the car, on the tarmac, sitting in your starting grid position, you’re shitting bricks.

Your cheeks are squeezed tight into your helmet, you can feel sweat, slick and soaking through your balaclava. Your arms hurt, your legs hurt, your ass hurts where it’s pressed into the seat. You’re not crying, but your mouth— hidden away by your helmet— is open like you’re about to. Set into a grimace that you breathe raggedly out of. Toto says something over the radio before the lights go out, you don’t hear it. You’re too busy regretting how earnestly you’d begged him to let you race. It would have been better if George had taken over. It might have been better if you’d passed out during the national anthem so you really had no choice but to sit it out. No one could say you weren’t committed to this sport if that had happened. They’d have plenty to say about women and their weak constitutions though.

You’re on autopilot when the lights go out. One second you’re freaking out like it’s your first time in a car, the next second everything is fading into background noise and you’re fighting a Ferrari and a McLaren for your original grid position. Twenty of you tear down the straight to turn two and you find yourself slotting easily into what you think is P4. Ferrari— not the same one— in front of you. Your mirrors reveal the McLaren behind you. It’s Oscar, you’re sure. You can tell by the way he sticks to your ass. Every nudge of the car you make he makes with you.

You press the radio button, “That Piastri behind?”

Crackle, “Yeah.”

“Knew it. He’s up my butt, Rach.”

“Okay. Go faster then. Not sure what to tell you.”

You make a face. You weren’t looking for sarky advice, you were trying to commiserate. You press the button and make a vaguely mocking neh-neh noise that gets a laugh and then radio silence because you’re supposed to be fucking concentrating. Which, okay, fair.

You press the throttle, done with trying to manage your tyres for the moment and taking Rachel’s comment as permission. You tear away from Oscar, stopping his fight to overtake you through the chicane in its tracks. You start slowly gaining on the Ferrari in front of you, its red rear wing growing closer and closer.

“Sainz in front?” you ask, already knowing the answer.

“Yup,” Rachel confirms before rattling off some lap times when you ask for them.

By lap thirty-something, you’re on Sainz’s ass like Oscar was on yours. You’re fighting him through every chicane, threatening him on the straights and generally behaving in a way that you know for a fact is putting him on edge. But Carlos isn’t giving up P3 without a fight.

A safety car goes out around lap forty, and you pit. Everyone ahead of you does as well. Oscar doesn’t, Oscar is lucky to have gone in earlier. Rachel tells you he’d made up four places after being forced to box for some tyre issue. You feel a strange mix of pride and jealousy swirl in your chest as you all file into a discordant line behind the safety car.

Verstappen leads the pack, as per usual. Then Oscar, Sainz and you. Leclerc is behind you, then Lando. You’re in P4, right where you started and right where you’ve been fucking sitting the entire race so far. twenty-five laps to at least make it onto the podium. Then you’ll be happy. Or not quite happy, you’d need pole for that. Content. You’d be content.

Max starts weaving. The safety car goes off and Max keeps you all ready and waiting until the exact millisecond that he decides the race can properly begin again. You hate when he does this— you know that’s exactly why. Eventually, finally, he gets going.

You have to run defence like crazy for a few laps to keep Leclerc behind you until everything is warmed up. The gap widens as you drive. At some point, you stop worrying about the Monégasque so much and focus your attention on car fifty-five like your life depends on it. The laps fly by as time ticks on. Twenty-five to go, twenty, fifteen, ten. You’re back on Sainz’s rear wheel, a gap of 0.2 to 0.3 that’s been consistent throughout this last stretch of the race. You’re watching him like a hawk, waiting for the smallest slip-up to take advantage of. Somewhere you can push, somewhere he’s weak. It’s hard— he’s covering all his bases. Not giving you an inch so you can’t take a mile.

You’re closing in on sixty-four laps— with only three to go— when he gives you that fucking inch. It’s in the first chicane. His wheel locks up, and he jerks the car slightly the wrong way, something like that. You get in his space and you push and he backs out first. You press down on the throttle and rocket past him, shouting FUCK! FUCK YES! to yourself.

P3. P3. God, you hope it’s P3.

You press the talk button, “Rach?”

“Yes, P3,” she barks, “Fucking, focus. Three laps to go.”

Those last three laps of Imola are some of the hardest of your life. Defending against Carlos is a task, of course, but it’s not even that. The sickness starts to creep back into your awareness as the adrenaline that had hit its peak during the overtake starts to subside. Two laps to go and you’re remembering the fever again. The sweat soaking your hair and streaking down the back of your neck. Your whole body is on fire and it aches everywhere. It feels like someone has taken a sledgehammer to the inside of your skull. You want so badly to close your eyes and drift away to sleep, but the car is flying through the air demanding your attention with the way it thuds against the track. You’ve got one lap to go and Carlos is on you like white on rice. You can’t afford to make a mistake until you’re firmly over that finish line.

So you don’t. You grit your teeth and you refuse.

Carlos is downright reckless in the last chicane, he tries to bait you by moving to one side and pushing but you’re not going to fall for something like that even if you’re near delirious from the 39.4-degree fever. Though surely it’s higher now, the car temp can’t be helping. You hardly realise you’ve crossed the finish line because you’re thinking so hard about how lightheaded you feel. On instinct, you slow down to a safe speed as Oscar’s McLaren enters your vision, but you think your toes have pins and needles and there’s some feeling tingling up into your shoulders. You blink hard and take a long sip of water so you can make it to the pits before your head starts to spin.

Crackle, “Where are you going? That was P3.”

“Huh?” you realise you’re following the other drivers instead of heading into the pits where you’re supposed to go, “Shit. Sorry.”

You edge back as carefully as you can, avoiding other cars that pass by, lucky you’ve not overshot too far so you can turn into the pits and park your car in front of the P3 sign without going around the entire track. That would be embarrassing. Or that would be more embarrassing than how disgusting you’re going to look when you take your helmet and balaclava off.

Toto, Rachel and a few of your engineers are there to meet you at the barricade when you clamber out of the car, unsteady on your feet. Rachel’s eyebrows are furrowed as she tries her best to smile at you, trying to put on a brave face even though you can tell she’s concerned you’re going to keel over. You brace yourself with a hand against the gate and tear your helmet off, then your balaclava. You’ve never been so fast to put a cap on your head, trying to cover the sweaty mess that is your hair right now.

“That was phenomenal work,” Rachel says, reaching to put a hand on your burning hot bicep, “You look fucking terrible, though.”

You suck in a ragged breath and you nod in agreement, trying to keep the black tinging your vision from taking over completely. 

“Get her something to drink,” you hear Toto bark, though it comes to your ears, muffled and staticky.

You’re fine. You’re fine. Until you’re not and your sweaty hand is slipping against the guardrail and your vision is fading into darkness and you’re falling face first into a metal railing. And, and, someone’s got their arm around your middle and you’re not on the ground with your face in the asphalt. You blink, hot tears— from what you assume is exhaustion— burning your eyelids. The arm around your middle is covered in something orange and black… Oscar. It’s Oscar who’s got you propped up, held firm into his body so your legs don’t collapse underneath you. The two of you sway and stumble for a second as you gain your footing back, your vision returning to normal, the buzzing in your ears going away.

“You’re good,” he breathes, “I’ve got you.”

You ignore the shiver that runs down your spine, you attribute it to your current state.

You remember the cameras that are on all of you right now. You try not to look panicked as you step away from him. You try to do it calmly and not frantically like you so want to. Toto has some electrolyte drink held out right in your face and you take it, chugging half of it straight away while you swivel around to face Oscar. You nod, feeling slightly better, but gripping the guardrail tight so as not to repeat earlier.

“Thanks,” you try a smile, but it’s just turning into a grimace because you feel like shit.

Oscar shakes his head, “Don’t mention it.”

“Great driving out there.”

His eyebrow goes up, touching the curl of his hair that peeks out from his cap.

“You’re kidding?” he says, tone laced with amusement.

You frown, which is much easier, “No. You drove great.”

He makes a face like ‘yes, obviously’, but somehow does it in a humble and endearing way that you find you like a little too much. It leaves you confused as to his point.

“No,” he scoffs, “Okay, yes. What I mean is that you just got P3 with a raging fever.”

You purse your lips, countering, “You don’t know I have a fever.”

His tongue darts out to wet his top lip, hiding the small smile that threatens on his face.

He shrugs, “Bit obvious, unfortunately.”

You roll your eyes. You think what he means is it’s a bit obvious because you look like absolute death. There’s probably sweat rolling off you in buckets, your cap is jammed on your head and your hair is probably sticking out at crazy angles. There were dark circles under your eyes before you left for the track this morning, they’re probably ten times worse now. He might also mean it’s obvious from the way your skin is burning hot, like touching a radiator in the middle of winter. Or, perhaps, the way you’d passed out into his arms a few minutes earlier.

You suck your teeth, “Well. I told you I was racing today.”

Oscar nods, biting the inside of his lip, “Yeah. You did.”

There’s more that neither of you are saying. A conversation that you’re trying desperately to have with prolonged eye contact, small little smiles and breaths out through the nose. You think it might be ‘I’m proud of you’ or ‘You’re very impressive and I’m going a little bit crazy about it’. That’s how you feel at least, somewhere in between the fever chills and the urge you’re suppressing to curl into a ball on the tarmac. This is okay, you think. You don’t have to be Oscar’s sworn enemy just because you’re both chasing the win. You can let him worry about you, but make sure he understands he can’t stop you from taking the things that you want. You can say things that mean other things and Oscar can smile at you like it’s something private for just the two of you.

You can be happy with that. Or not quite happy. Content.

🏎️ song inspo (fiona apple my Beloved) -> https://open.spotify.com/track/5h9Iek7Hp9wayRt7fBp7Ab?si=9PnuH5CDSC-qTurLPGiTwg

💫 fill out this form if you want to be added to my tag list: @clowngirlsstuff @leclercsluvs @c-losur3 @mael1pastry @papayamusha @mvk1ma

[moody-alcoholic]

On a Wing and a Prayer

Part 4 - The Truth Hurts The Most

CW: light medical stuff, nice spoonful of angst. IDK how many parts this will be. I have a storyline all mapped out though. I also don't do taglists sorry

Previous parts - masterlist - next

You wake with Kyle still sleeping beside you in the tiny bed you would always be crammed in when one of them chose to stay over. It’s not the same though, there’s no cuddling, no kisses or talking about work. It’s just silence. 

You can’t tell if you slept any better. After Kyle insisted you try the sleeping pills your dreams felt even more vivid. As soon as you turn your body to sit up Kyle wakes too rubbing his eyes. You only have one thing on your mind now. You want to see Johnny. 

..

“Christ Johnny you had a lung resection.” You don’t mean to sound surprised looking over at Kyle. He could get discharged for this, it doesn’t look too big. Maybe he’ll be fine, you hope it will be. 

“I mean that’s what happens when you’re shot in the chest.” he chuckles. There’s a tension in the air between you and Kyle. This is the first time you’re reading his chart. This is the first time you’re catching up on what you’ve missed. You promised Johnny you would be with him every second, all he had to do was hold on, keep breathing. 

He did that and he survived. You didn’t hold up your end of the bargain. 

“What’s going on with you two? Did you have a fight or something” You ignore him looking back at his chart. You hoped John and Simon were just lying when they said he was almost dead. He was, he coded twice on the table. Fuck. He almost died, he really almost died. You want to jump into bed with him and just hold him close. You haven’t even had time to process what happened. 

Everything happened so quickly. As soon as you were off the chopper Kate was pulling John to the side. Before you could even finish the handover with the base medics you were being pulled in for questioning. 

That was the last you saw of Johnny, he being moved into resus. You thought John was going to talk to you about your performance. You thought it was a joke at first, you thought he was trying to prove some kind of point. When Simon walked into the room, his eyes were harsh, uncaring. That's when you knew it was much worse. 

A nurse walks in the room breaking your train of thought. You recognise her, you worked with her a few times on the base. She smiles at you as you pass her Johnny’s chart. 

“I’m sorry about what happened to you.” You freeze. You're holding your breath staring at her wide eyed. 

“What happened?” Johnny asks, you turn to him, he's sat up in bed. You look at Kyle, who sighs and grips the side of Johnny’s bed. 

“John and Simon thought she was the leak.” Kyle says. You swallow hard, your hand coming to your stomach. Johnny looks at you for a second then back to Kyle. 

“What leak?” 

“There was a leak, Makarov knew we were coming, it was a trap.” Kyle says. You’re trying to keep your cool, you didn’t even realise the nurse had left the room. 

“Why didn’t you say anything? I could tell something was wrong.” He turns to look at you. “What did they do just question you?” 

You shake your head. His face goes grim. He looks back at Kyle. 

You watch as his hands grip the covers and he lets out a sigh. You feel sick, you want to leave, you don’t want to upset johnny. When you turn to leave Simon walks into the room. He looks right at you. 

A chill runs up your spine, you’re looking in his eyes. They look darker when he has his mask on, now they look terrifying. 

“Si is it true?” Johnny asks. Simon looks past you towards the bed. You feel frozen in place, your head spinning. This is all your fault. You shouldn’t have been here. The sooner you get away from them the better. 

Simon doesn’t say anything. 

“Christ. I can’t-” Johnny doesn't finish his sentence.

“How long?” You look up at Simon who has crossed his arms now. 

“It doesn’t matter.” Simon says.

“It fucking matters.” Johnny says. You can hear the anger in his voice. You want to leave, you have to leave. You don’t want to be here. Your body is still betraying you though, you can't move.

“Tav sit down. You’ll hurt yourself.” You hear Kyle say. Your stomach twists, you squeeze your eyes closed. When you open them again Simon has moved out of your vision going up to the bed. 

“4 days.” Simon says. That seems to still the commotion going on behind you. You take a step towards the door, your legs feel like they’re about to give out.

“I want to know everything. Every single detail.” 

“Johnny-” Simon starts 

“Don’t you fucking Johnny me. Tell me.” His voice is harsh, you’ve only ever seen Johnny mad a few times. Most of the time it’s spur of the moment, a few seconds of anger then he’s back to his usual self. 

This is different. There’s hatred in his voice. 

Tears run down your cheeks as you make it out of the room. You can hear them calling but you don’t care, you just keep walking. 

When you make it out the med-bay the cold air hits your face. You realise you’ve been holding your breath the whole walk. You have to brace your hands on your thighs while you suck in as much air as you can. 

“Are you okay?” You hear someone say. You look up to see John looking back at you. There’s a somber look on his face. You’re mad at him. Adrenaline is pumping through your system. It’s fight or flight.

“It was just a normal day for you wasn't it.” You snap at him. “You woke up and went to bed like it was just part of the job. Like I was just another terrorist.” 

He doesn’t say anything. The silence hurts more, you thought he would fight, defend himself. No, he just stands there staring at you. 

“You let me suffer for nothing. You gained nothing, you learnt nothing. You broke me for nothing.” You turn away running your hand down your face pinching your nose as tears and snot stream down. They’re no closer to solving what happened than they were before Johnny was shot. Maybe this is Makarov's plan, the long game. Blame one of them break up the team, plant evidence. They were so sure it was you.

“I want to know why you thought it was me.” You say turning back to look at him. He presses his lips together for a few seconds, he’s thinking. You wipe your face with your sleeve. 

“Okay. C’mon.” He says turning away. You wait for a second before following him.  

next

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[lolaxbunnyy]

IDK IF YOU STILL DO MY HERO ACADEMIA AS IM NEW- but I love your writing so

What about poly Bakugo, Deku, Todoroki x Fem!reader who’s nine months pregnant, due any day now. She’s about to go into labor but they’re not home due to a mission

Idk if I explained this well 💀

also I hope this is good enough I haven’t been on here in a while 😬 . Also I gave the baby a name and a gender if you want something else then you can feel free to change it. Also if anybody has anything they would like me to write please ask!

warnings: fem black reader, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of birth, nothing bad though just enjoy.

SHOTO, IZUKU, AND KATSUKI. The top three most amazing and well known pro heros who were well loved by their fans had a little secret. They had a pretty little wife who was carrying one of their babies. Katsuki decided that he was going to be the one to get her pregnant first, the other two had no problem with that. After months of trying and no show she was finally pregnant and all four of them were so happy to finally have their first kid.

It’s been 9 months already and their precious baby girl has yet to leave her place within her mamas tummy.

Y/N rubbed her swollen belly as she did her rotations on her exercise ball. Katsuki’s mom was here helping her out with the little things that she needed. Mitsuki loved her from the moment Katsuki introduced them and now that she’s going to have a little grandchild she was even more happy with her future daughter in law.

"Y/N honey. The boys are calling again."Mitsuki said as she walked in from the kitchen to the living room rolling her eyes. “This is the fourth time they’ve called in the last hour.” Mitsuki chuckled.

"They're so worried that you're going to pop before they get back." Y/N grabbed the phone from, Mitsuki’s hand and put it up to her ear.

“Hello?” “Hey, baby. You doing okay?” Y/N rolled her eyes even though he couldn’t see her. “Yes I’ve been okay since the last time you called.” She heard him chuckle. “Okay. You’re a little worked up. What happened? Sick of us calling?” Y/N giggled. “Nope, never. I can’t even miss or worry about you guys because you’re too busy calling all the time instead of focusing on your task that you three were sent to do.” Before Izuku could respond she heard the faint voice of someone talking to him. “Oi? Is that Curls?” Katsuki of course.

Y/N heard what sounded like the phone being snatched away from Izuku. “Oi, Curls! If you ever hand up in my face again we’re gonna have some problems when I get back home, you hear me?” Y/N chuckled. “Yes sir.” She heard the blonde kiss his teeth before handing the phone back to Izuku.

“Sorry, bout that. Anyways you’ve got some scolding to do to Katsuki anyways.” “Don’t you dare tell her about that!” She could tell Izuku rolled his eyes. “He was being careless today and almost lost his leg.” Katsuki grumbled. “ ‘Was not bein’ fuckin’ careless. ‘The hell was I s’posed to know he was gonna turn his leg in to a fuckin’ chain saw?!” Y/N pursed her lips. “Y’know if you two are done bickering we have matters to attend too.”

Shoto said out of nowhere. “That’s right. Well baby, look like we gotta go. We’ll see you next week, hopefully.” Katsuki butted in. “Yeah so tell the brat to avoid her eviction notices till then.” Y/N laughed. “I’m sure she heard you, Kat. I’ll see you boys next week. I love you.” “We love you more baby.” Then the phone clicked and the call was over.

Y/N sighed. She truly did miss them. Sure she enjoyed the company of her soon to be in laws, but she missed her boys. It was quiet and peaceful while they were away and she hated that. The bed was always cold and empty and she also hated that but it still smelled of them and she could at least appreciate that. So did the large shirt that she borrowed from Shoto’s side of the closet.

The boys had already been gone for two weeks and they’d be back home next week but it doesn’t feel like Blossom can wait any longer to be out in the world. Her eyes trailed over towards the belly cast that she had gotten done. The boys had decorated it all pretty and even drew a little family of four on it in Katsuki’s terrible excuse of a drawing. She’d never tell him that though because even if it was bad it’s still cute and still has meaning to it. She can still even feel their careful hands on her stomach.

Izuku’s hands are the most scarred and a little calloused but still firm and calming. Katsuki’s hands being the most calloused and somehow a bit sweaty from time to time. Sho’s hands were the softest but were always cold.

She missed the special treatment and massages they’d give her before they left. They were very caring and spoiling.

It’s been like this since they’ve found out that she was pregnant. They couldn’t be home for her, they had their moms take care of her. Then when they came home for the night, they’d be all over her because in their words, “you look so cute when you’re pregnant.”

She smiled softly at Mitsuki as she smelled the cooking of her favorite food. It’s getting later and later and there was a storm outside brewing. She didn’t want her poor boys caught outside in the rain.

"Y/N, Inko sent some more clothes for Blossom." Mitsuki smiled as she handed them to her. “Awe. We’re going to run out of space in her little closets.” Y/N held the shirt to her stomach. “Do you like it, B?” Y/N suddenly winced at a sharp pain in her stomach. “Okay, I’ll put it away.” But the pain kept coming. Mitsuki helped Y/N up carefully and at that very moment, her water broke.

Mitsuki immediately started to call phones. "Inko, Rei! It's happening! I need you here now! The babies coming!"

Mitsuki was rushing around the house to get the bags ready and extra clothes before helping her soon to be daughter in law towards the car.

Once they arrived after some time Mitsuki rushed in to get a nurse and she came back with a nurse who had a wheelchair ready and the both of them helped Y/N out of the car in to the chair and she was wheeled in and rushed towards the maternity floor. They put her in a room and went to go get things ready for her.

“Where the fuck are they going?!” Y/N whimpered out as one if her hands held her stomach while her other arm was draped across her face. Rei and Inko walked in. "They're going to get everything ready. More doctors and your epidural for your pain, Honey."Inko responded and Y/N hummed in pain.

“Did you call the boys?” Rei asked and Mitsuki nodded her head as she tried to get Y/N comfortable and situated. "Yes but they're not answering. I think they're too busy in what they're doing."

Rei let out a soft okay before looking at the clock on the wall. 12:03 AM it read. A nurse came back in and injected her with the medicine but it didn’t have time to do its job because right after the doctors came in and it was time for her baby girl to come out in to the world.

Everything went smoothly. (beside the three mothers having to stop Y/N from attacking the nurse. Twice. First time because if her giving her the epidural late and second because the bitch almost dropped her baby.) when Blossom was all cleaned up it was about. 2:19 when Y/N got to hold her baby and feed her.

She was so pretty. Her skin was a mix between Y/N and Katsuki and her hair was blonde and straight but Y/N was sure that her curls would come in soon. Last but not least her eyes her round and (e/c) just like her moms as she looked up at her through her blonde eyelashes. The three mothers huddled around Y/N to look at their granddaughter. "Awe. She's so pretty." Inko cooed softly. “I’ve got to get pictures.” Rei gushed and both her and Inko rushed to their purses to get their phone out while Mitsuki stayed by Y/N.

"Do you want me to get her so you can rest?" ��Yes please, if you don’t mind.” Mitsuki took Blossom and soon after, Y/N was knocked out.

Izuku was the last person to get out of the bath for that morning. They’d been up since midnight going on a fake lead, practically wasting their time all night. Izuku grabbed what he thought was his phone but noticed that it was Katsuki’s. “Hey, Kachaan? You’ve got 10 missed calls from your mom.” Katsuki raised an eyebrow as he set down his freshly cooked spicy ramen.

He went to his call log and clicked on his mom’s name in face time. "Hello?" His mom’s face showed in the camera. “You called 10 times?” He said unamused. Thinking that it was just her being worried and paranoid again. "Well, I needed to tell you something." Katsuki hummed. “Kay?” The camera flipped around and Katsuki saw blonde hair then the phone fell to the floor as his mom let out an agitated ‘damn it’ before picking it up and a sleeping baby was shown.

“Is that?” "Yep." Inko cut off her son. “That’s Blossom guys!” The boys mouths dropped. Their daughter was so pretty just like her mommy. After that face time call that day the boys had to call off the mission to get home to their girls immediately.

Y/N was released from the hospital two days before they could come home so when they made it back they instantly without a second thought came straight home and they finally got to see their daughter. Blossoms little hair started to curl up a little so she most definitely started to look like Y/N.

Katsuki was the first to hold her and she was so small Katsuki feared that he might break her. Izuku and Shoto walked towards Katsuki, standing on either side of him as they looked down at their daughter. “She most definitely looks like a Blossom.” Shoto spoke softly as the little baby curiously looked at the three men.

Their moms smiled at them. "Congrats boys!" Mitsuki had tears in her eyes as little sniffles came out. "Oh my goodness. I'm finally a grandma! I'm never gonna get over this!" She cried into Inko’s shoulder and Inko patted her back comfortingly. “I wanna hold her next.” Izuku held his arms out and Katsuki carefully handed Blossom to him. Once he was secure in his arms, Katsuki turned towards Y/N.

He smiled softly and he walked over towards her giving her a kiss on her cheek. He watched the others coo over the little blonde haired baby.

“Thank you so much, baby.” Three months later, the world knew about their two girls after Izuku had posted a video of Blossom giggling away at Katsuki and Shoto making silly faces at her while Y/N just watched in the background with a big smile on her face. That video was the most brought up topic in their latest interviews and they didn’t mind at all telling the world about their girls.

this story belongs to @lolaxbunnyy !!

[janeyseymour]

Drunk Actions, Sober Thoughts- part 2

Part 1 @theboreworms @schemmentisbaby @ literally everyone else who bullied me into writing a part 2, i hope this lives up to your expectations.

Summary: Are drunk actions really sober thoughts?

WC: ~2.35k

When Melissa wakes up, she wakes with a groan. Jesus Christ, how much did she have to drink at Janine’s party last night? And who let her drink that- it hits her at a dizzying rate. Barbara was determined to get Sea Barbara to come out, which she succeeded in. And because she and the redhead usually go shot for shot with heavy handed pours, Melissa also got absolutely hammered. 

The second grade teacher turns, and she realizes she’s in her bed. How did she get- Holy shit. She vaguely remembers flirting with you the entire night. Does that mean you brought her home? Did she say anything stupid? Did she try to make any moves on you?

“Never goin’ shot for shot with Barbie again,” Melissa grumbles to herself as she reaches for her nightstand drawer to grab Advil. Of course though, there’s already a glass of water and two pills sitting nicely on top. She downs them and prays to God himself that this hangover will go away quickly.

Once she’s secure in the fact that she isn’t going to get sick standing up, the redhead makes her way out of bed, secures her reading glasses on her head, and heads downstairs. And sitting on the coffee table is your note. Her tired eyes can’t read your note without her glasses, so she pulls them down and sets them on the tip of her nose before scanning what you had written.

“Fuck,” Melissa mumbles to herself. “What the fuck did I do last night?”

As she cooks herself breakfast, memories come back in pieces. She remembers taking shots with Barbara, you coming in, dancing with you- her hand in your back pocket.

Meanwhile, at breakfast, you’re doing everything that you can to try to stay focused and pay attention to what your dad is telling you, but it’s quite difficult.

“What’s got you so distracted today, kiddo?” your father asks. “And don’t tell me it’s nothing, because it’s clearly something.”

You shrug. “Just… had a long night last night.”

“Why would that be?” your dad chuckles. “You knew you had to be up bright and early to be with your old man today.”

“My coworker had a party, and I ended up having to take my other colleague home,” you explain, and you quietly pray he doesn’t pry any further.

  Of course though, he does. “Was it that Melissa character?”

Your cheeks turn red at the memory of last night. “Yeah,” you mumble.

“What happened? Did you tell her how you feel?”

You shake your head. “Of course not. But, uh-” You scratch the back of your head. “She might’ve told me how she feels about me.”

“Oh?” your dad raises his eyebrows as he takes a sip of his coffee. “So what came of that?”

“Well,” you sigh softly. “Nothing yet. I had to leave to come meet you, but I told her I would come back so we could talk about it today.”

“Why the hell are you here with me, kid?” the man across the table asks you. “You should be there with her.”

“I wouldn’t cancel on you, dad,” you roll your eyes. “I haven’t seen you in a while, and I wouldn’t cancel on you.”

“Well, I’m telling you now to get the hell out of here and go to her.”

“We’re in the middle of breakfast.”

“And I’ll see you again next weekend,” your father tells you as he takes a bite of his hash brown. “Go get your girl, kid.”

“Are you being serious right now?”

He nods. “Go. I’ll be waiting for your call to tell me how it went.”

With a heavy breath blown out, you stand, grab your purse, kiss your cheek, and head out of the restaurant.

Your father watches you go before picking up his cell phone and calling your mother. “Jude, I think our girl might finally get her girl.”

“It’s about damn time, Bobby.” 

Your heart is racing by the time you pull back into Melissa’s driveway. You can see her silhouette through the window and take a deep breath for getting out of the car and making your way up to the house.

You have no idea how this is going to go, but you can only hope that it works out in your favor. You knock gently, and she’s at the door about thirty seconds later.

Her hair is up in one of the messiest buns you’ve seen, her glasses are on the tip of her nose, and even though she’s simply in her pajamas, you can’t help but think about how beautiful she looks right now. How waking up next to her this morning was something that you’ve wanted to do for a long time.

“Hey,” she sighs softly as she steps aside to let you in.

“Hey,” you reply just as gently. “How are you feeling this morning?”

She shrugs. “Woke up with a ridiculous hangover. Thank you for the Advil and water this morning.”

“Of course,” you chuckle quietly.

She gestures for you to come inside. “Well, are you going to just stand there, or are you going to come in?”

You make your way into the house on light feet and set your purse down on her couch. “I think we need to talk.”

“Yeah,” Melissa hums. “Listen, about last night… I’m really sorry if I crossed a boundary.”

You shake your head. “You didn’t cross any boundaries,” you promise her. “I just think we need to talk about the things that were said and done last night. How much of it do you remember?”

She relays to you what she remembers- drinking with Barbara, having you near her most of the night once you got there, the dancing… her hand placement.

“You remember more than I thought you would,” you can’t help but giggle. “Especially for how gone you were last night.”

“I’m sure there’s more that I’m not remembering,” the redhead scratches the back of her neck. “Care to fill me in?”

You worry your lip between your teeth for a few seconds before you sigh softly. “Mel, you… you kept telling people I was your girl. When I brought you home, you… you had me pressed up against the wall.”

The redhead’s mouth falls open in shock. “Holy shit.”

“You told me you have feelings for me and what you love about me,” you continue.

“I-” Melissa puts her head in her hands to hide her embarrassment. “I am so sorry.”

You shrug. “I wasn’t mad about it. I just- is that really how you feel about me?” You subconsciously tuck a stray hair behind your ear. You quirk your lips to one side and keep your eyes on the ground. If she didn’t mean what she told you last night, you don’t want Melissa to see the disappointment on your face. That would be beyond embarrassing. What you don’t see is the slight widening of Melissa’s eyes as she remembers something she said last night.

“Hun.” A soft hand cups your cheek and forces you to look into those jade eyes of her own.

“Mel,” you sigh softly. “It’s fine.”

Red hair sways back and forth gently as she shakes her head. “Drunk words and actions are sober thoughts,” she tells you the sentiment she slurred out last night. 

And then her lips are on yours again. And although she had kissed you before previously, you aren’t expecting it this time either. It takes you a few seconds to set your hands on her waist and pull her closer to you. When she pulls away, there’s a warm smile on her face, and her eyes are a softer shade of green than you’ve ever seen. The sparkle in them is as bright as ever.

“I meant what I told you last night,” Melissa tells you quietly. “I just… never thought I’d actually get the girl.”

“I thought I’d never get the girl,” you chuckle softly as you lean in to kiss her again. “Holy shit.”

“Just wait until you can see what else I can do,” the redhead smirks.

You end up spending the day with Melissa. It’s warm, it’s cozy. It’s quite similar to how you would usually spend a day with her outside of school, but there’s more stolen kisses, more hand holding, arms wrapped around your waist as you cook lunch and dinner together.

“So,” you hum out quietly as you sit next to her for dinner today. “I do think we should talk about what… this… is.” You gesture between the two of you.

“I don’t want no fling,” the redhead tells you. “I want you. And if that’s something that you can’t handle, then I think we need to call it-”

You stop her with a kiss. When you pull back you roll your eyes at her. “Melissa Schemmenti, I haven’t even been on a date since I started working at Abbott because the only person I can think about is you. I don’t want a fling either. I want you. I want this.”

She nods with that starry smile of hers. It dims a few seconds later though. “Do you think… think we can just keep this under wraps for a little bit? Like, at least with the work group?”

“You aren’t going to tell Barb?” you chuckle.

Melissa shrugs. “She’ll find out in her own time… probably when I drag you along to one of our brunches over the summer.”

You end up calling your father on the car ride home from your now girlfriend’s house.

“Kid?” your dad picks up. “Hey, I was expecting your call a little earlier than this. Is everything okay?”

“I’m good,” you sigh softly. “Sorry. I was just spending time with my girlfriend.”

You can hear your mother gasp in the background. “Girlfriend?”

“Girlfriend,” you confirm.

You can practically see smile on both of their faces. “Oh, how wonderful.”

“When do we get to meet her?” your mom asks loudly. You can faintly hear your father telling her that she doesn’t need to scream into the phone to be heard.

“I’m sure she’ll make an appearance sooner or later,” you laugh. “We are keeping it quiet for the time being, but… you’ll meet her over the summer.”

Your girlfriend ends up accompanying you to the family fourth of July picnic. As you could’ve guessed, your parents absolutely adore her. She’s the perfect amount of charming while also maintaining that mysterious and sarcastic aura around her. She’s great with your younger cousins, and also their parents. Quite a few of your family members end up pulling you aside to tell you that if you let her go, they’re taking her side in the matter. You just reply with the same thing each time: an eye roll and the statement, “I’m not planning on letting her go.”

The rest of July, you spend a lot of time down at the shore. Melissa and her ex-husband have a time share, and your now girlfriend prefers to use it during July while he would rather have June. It’s convenient the way that all worked itself out. You don’t think you’ve eaten so many curly fries in vinegar before this summer.

July passes by quickly, soaking in the sun, taking in the views (of your girlfriend in her bathing suit), resting and relaxing. And then August creeps up on you, and it’s about time for the two of you to begin thinking about going back to school.

“So we’re still keeping it on the down low?” you ask gently as you crawl into bed the night before professional development starts.

“I think so,” the redhead shrugs. “I like this little bubble that we’re in- don’t you?”

You smile and kiss her warmly. “I do.”

“An’,” your girlfriend shrugs again. “If they find out, they find out. Ain’t like we hiding it like Janine and Gregory.”

“I still can’t believe we saw them at the park last week and they didn’t see us,” you chuckle out.

You somehow manage to make it through the week of professional development, and your kids are starting back up before you know it. You’re down the hall in the classroom next to Gregory’s, and Melissa is right across from Janine. It’s a nice little square that the four of your classrooms make. And it’s funny as hell to both you and your girlfriend how obvious they’re being, and yet they somehow still think they’re so subtle.

You, Barbara, Ava, and Melissa all get pulled to do a talking head for one of the camera men. He asks what you think is going on between Janine and Gregory.

“We all know,” the four of you state at once. The four of you continue on to state that you have no idea how they could even think that they’re hiding their relationship- what dumb asses. The four of you aren’t dumb either, but none of you really care. Well, aside from Ava who thinks that it’s an insult to her intelligence. 

The four of you go to leave the hall from your interview, only for the camera crew to keep Barbara behind. Ava tosses her hair and saunters off while you and your girlfriend just smile at each other before parting ways.

“Are there any other changes that you’ve noticed over the summer?” he asks the kindergarten teacher.

Barb glances around to make sure no one is listening before leaning in just slightly. “Melissa and Y/N? Ooh, they are playing the same game that Gregory and Janine are. And I have a feeling… Gregory and Janine aren’t the only two who got it together that night at the end of the year party. Hmm.” She points to the two of you- you leaning against Melissa’s doorframe.

The camera quickly pans over to the two of you, and you don’t know it… but you and your girlfriend are just as bad as your counterparts. 

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights  @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule @sarahjohannson @casualfoxwitch @babytakeittothehead

[halfwayhearted]

Heyy!! Could you please do an imagine with Pau and reader where he admires her eyes but she doesn't like them becuase they're brown.Thank you soo muchh!! Love your writing btww!!!❤️ :)

Moments — Pau Cubarsí.

Pairing: Pau Cubarsí x Fem!Reader

Summary: He loves admiring you, especially your eyes, with a fascination that you don’t quite understand.

Word Count: 425+

Disclaimer/s — Just fluff, a bit short.

A/N: IM SOOO SICK. January 8th can’t come ANY. SLOWER. Also reader doesn’t necessarily dislike her eyes or anything…

“Fine, fine. I give in! What’re you looking at, Pau?”

The boy in question straightens his posture and furrows his eyebrows in confusion. Was he seriously acting confused? “What do you mean, what am I looking at? I’m looking at you. I’ve been looking at you this whole time,” he tells you.

“I can see that. But why? There’s a whole movie going on and you’re only focused on me. This is quite literally the best part of the entire movie.”

His expression relaxes, and he smiles. “Is it?”

“Well, to me it is. Do you want me to rewind it?”

“Yeah—yes, rewind it. I’ll pay attention this time.”

“Pau, what’s got your attention so badly? Is there something on my face?” You question, your eyes widening slightly. “If there’s something on my face and you’ve done nothing but stare at me and stay completely silent, movie night is over, I fear.”

He lets out a laugh. “There’s nothing on your face. The light is just hitting you, your eyes look pretty.”

“How so?” You question, not really understanding his constant gaze. Were they brightened? Your eyes were brown. Brown was pretty, you just didn’t know why it made him look at you so often.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “They just… look really pretty. And you look beautiful, of course.”

Your cheeks flush and you look away. “Pau, oh my God. Enough with that! Please, look away now.”

His laughter fills the air once again. “What!”

“I’m serious! No more. Just focus on the movie.”

“I am focusing. I’ve been focused,” Pau defends, his hand coming to rest on your shoulder, gently pulling you against him. “What’s so bad about me saying your eyes look pretty? Don’t believe me?”

You groan, “Well! Well, I mean, like, I don’t know.”

“I always compliment your eyes. It’s not new.”

“No, it’s not. I just—what’s your favorite color?”

“Brown,” he answers almost instantly, and that’s enough for you to sit up, your gaze narrowing.

You felt sick. “See! You know what you’re doing!”

“You’re such a baby,” he teases, repeating his usual move and pulling you back into him. “Okay, so what’s your favorite color? Tell me that.”

“Hm… like, a blue-ish green-ish color. Yeah, that.”

That’s when he hums, ruffling your hair. “Y’know, that’s oddly similar to the color of my eyes.”

“Is it? I couldn’t really tell,” you reply innocently.

“Alright, alright. I’m finished. Now we can finally watch the movie. How does that sound? Good?”

Nestling closer to him, you echo, “Sounds good.”

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ^_^.

DT(s) — @planetpedri + @spidybaby + @iovepoem + @sakashq + @joaoflms ! ౨ৎ

[svt-aurora]

Ohhh aurora and joshua⁉️⁉️ SO CUTE, I'm imagining the members reaction when they got together or when they announced they're having a child. Soooo please can I request that HAHAHAH THANK YOU!! 💖

“Surprise…?”

⊱ timeline: january 2022

⊱ synopsis: while having a group dinner with the members, aurora is fed up with having to keep her big news to herself. so aurora does what a normal human being would: she tells them duh.

⊱ a/n: OMG TY ANON FOR THIS REQUEST! i think this is actually so cute and i had so much fun writing this, so i hope u enjoy reading! also this is not really proofread, so ignore any mistakes you see!

ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ

it had been a week since aurora found out she was pregnant. joshua was absolutely ecstatic and had been all over her all week. having kids was one of areum’s biggest dreams, so for it to become a reality was so surreal for her. telling josh was already chaotic, but telling the members? oh it would be something to remember. aurora hadn’t actually figured out a way to tell them, but her heart was telling her to just break it to the boys casually. soo… that’s exactly what she’s planning to do.

“HELLOOO!!” dk’s loud voice filled the hallway as he and the other 11 members made their way into the couple’s penthouse.

“guys. just because i gave you a key to my house, doesn’t mean you can break in unannounced.” aurora playfully rolled her eyes, still walking out to greet the boys.

“but didn’t you invite us over?” hoshi asked genuinely confused.

“she was implying that you were supposed to knock first, dipshit.” woozi reached up to slap the back of the boy’s head.

as the night went on with dinner going smoothly, they all decided to play drinking games. obviously beginning with their famous ninja star game. seungkwan started off the game by throwing the invisible (nonexistent) star at the maknae. each of them imagining the star being launched across the table stabbing dino in his neck. the boy’s face contorted in fake pain, grasping a hand over his neck where he was supposedly hit. this resulted in areum letting out a small giggle, which is quite out of the ordinary because she’s usually able to keep a straight face every time they play this game.

seungkwan let out a sound of disbelief. “oh, noona laughed,” he pointed a finger at her, clearly stating the obvious.

bacardi bacardi bacardi yah, the boys sang. wonwoo poured the girl a shot of alcohol and handed it to her saying, “drink bro.”

she held up a hand, rejecting the glass, “ahh i can’t drink today. can someone else drink for me?”

now this really left the members confused. first, aurora laughed during the star game which she’s normally really good at. and second, she rejected a shot of alcohol.

“yah, what the fuck is wrong with you? are you sick or something?” mingyu asked with a joking tone.

“no, i’m not sick. i’m just… pregnant,” aurora mumbled the last word.

“speak up arie, we can’t hear you,” jeonghan told her.

“i said, i’m not sick. just pregnant.” the girl said much louder this time.

jun’s mouth dropped open, vernon choked on his water, and minghao spat out the bits of ramen in his mouth. it was like the members froze for a second. the boys who are always so loud and rowdy, now silenced by aurora’s sudden confession.

dokyeom was the first to speak up, “are you being for real right now reumie?”

“surprise…?” she shrugged awkwardly as if it wasn’t that big of a deal.

she pulled out the pregnancy test nestled in her hoodie’s pocket to prove that she wasn’t joking. with areum’s confirmation, booseoksoon erupted in excited squeals, the rest running over to the girl to tackle her in a hug. the room filled with oh my god i’m gonna be an uncle, can i be the godfather, and shua hyung’s gonna be a dad? as they all ran around in excitement, seungcheol stood up from where he was at the table and walked over to sit down in the chair next to aurora’s.

the leader embraced her in a warm hug, “does the company know?”

“oh my god cheol. i seriously do not wanna think about the company’s reaction to my pregnancy right now,” she rolled her eyes, breaking away from s.coups’ arms.

he chuckled, “okay okay i’m sorry. i just- i’m just worried for what they’re gonna think about the news.”

“and so am i, but right now i just wanna focus on myself and the baby. i will make sure to tell you when i do tell them,” aurora reassured him.

“if you tell them that is,” seungcheol raised a brow, causing areum to giggle.

after the leader left to go talk to joshua instead, dino slid into his now vacant seat. “areumie noona, are you gonna replace me with your baby?” he questioned genuinely curious.

“no chan, i could never. you will always be my first baby,” after hearing her words, the boy relaxed in his seat.

“GUYS! you know what would be a really good name for the baby, and this goes both ways girl and boy by the way. you could name it hoshi junior. after me AND tigers!”

“hell no. there is no way i’m naming my kid after you,” joshua shook his head.

[moralesluvr]

IDFC 2 | BILLIE EILISH.

୧ ‧₊˚ part one is posted !!

pairings & aus. billie eilish x fem!reader warnings. happy ending this time | kissing | angst & fluff author's note. hello this was request by a few peeps so here it is !! word count. 1.3k ish ?!

tomorrow has come. and if you were being honest with yourself, you felt like a mess.

the mid day sun cracks through the open blinds when you’re awoken to the sound of birds chirping and your music softly playing from your alexa. your bedroom is tranquil— but it’s cold and quiet. you have goosebumps running up and down your exposed skin when you look at the clock realize it’s already three in the afternoon.

usually billie would be awake, slithering into your room like usual to sit on the foot of your bed and sing to you or rant about any and everything. and of course— you’d prop your head in your hands and listen attentively as you talked for hours on end. but she doesn’t come, and it’s abnormal, so you wrap yourself in a blanket and sneak through the door, “billie?”

her name hangs in the air like it’s a burden, and there’s no response. it’s pin-drop quiet in your apartment and it makes you cringe, because it’s never this silent. and even if billie wasn’t home, she’d always tell you where she was going.

confused, and a little downhearted, you slide your feet against the hardwood floors and enter your kitchen, popping a pod of hot cocoa into the keurig when your eyes rest on a sticky note that’s plastered onto your favorite mug.

“needed to clear my head. i’m hungover as FUCK!

love you. be back soon. — billie.”

you nodded even though she wasn’t there, folding the sticky note and placing it in your hoodie pocket. your lazy eyes watch as the hot cocoa dispenses into your cup— the warm, chocolatey liquid nearly filling your pink mug to the brim.

it was only your favorite because billie bought it. just like everything else you owned that you took a special liking to. it made your stomach twist when you realized that your whole life was encompassed by her. everything you did was for her gaze, you longed for her, ached for her, and it was sick and twisted and crazy but you were crazy for her, and it just felt so damn right.

you’re curled up on the couch now, sipping at your drink, even though it burns your tongue everytime you swallow.

it reminds you of billie. you can’t help but bask in her presence everytime you see her, and even though it burns to love her— it hurts you so bad, you’re addicted to her. and it’s not her fault necessarily, because she doesn’t even know, but you’re not sure you can do this anymore.

it’s been years, what could possibly go wrong?

you’re stuck, that’s the issue. you haven’t even told anyone about this not-so-little crush, and you feel like there’s only one person on this entire planet who’s close enough to billie to give you raw advice, but also has been in love with the same person for years and years on end.

it’s so stupid, you think, and your hands start to shake when you pick up your phone and open your contacts app, your thumb hovering over the number.

finneas.

but you feel like there’s nothing else that you can do, so you click the ‘call’ button and it rings out a couple of times, and you almost pray and home that he doesn’t answer the phone. but of course, finn being finn, he picks up. and speak of the devil, claudia’s in the background.

“hello?”

“hi y/n!”

“that’s claudia.” finneas’ laughs echoes through the phone, “what’s up, kid?”

you suck in a breath before adjusting your position on the couch to get more comfortable, “hey…i just really need some advice right now, because there’s some shit i’ve been dealing with for so long and i feel like i’ll explode if i don’t say something.”

finneas makes a little “mhm” sound to acknowledge your statement, and there’s a moment of comfortable silence on the phone when he begins to speak.

“i’m listening. well— me and claudia, is that alright? if not, i’ll kick her out.” his tone is joking, and you giggle across the line, “no dude it’s alright.”

“okay, we’re all ears!” claudia laughs, and you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “i…i think i’m losing my mind,” you admit lowly, but laughing bitterly to play it off. “it’s about billie.”

“billie?” finneas questions, his tone more serious now, and there’s a little bit of surprise laced with worry in his voice. claudia’s gasp is audible through the phone and you squeeze your eyes shut, already regretting saying a single word.

you can’t even respond, you just bite your lip as your eyes flood with tears. you let out a quiet sob and claudia and finneas say nothing, but you can’t even blame them because the situation just slapped them in the face.

but when she finally speaks, claudia’s voice is gentle, yet coaxing. “what happened, y/n?”

“she came home drunk last night.” you whisper, your eyes stinging with more vulnerable, unshed tears. “she apologized for being a mess, for making me deal with her shit, and all i wanted to do was grab her and tell her she’s not a mess, that she’s perfect, that i don’t care about anything else as long as she’s in my life. but i couldn’t. i didn’t. and now i’m just sitting here, losing my mind because i don’t know what to do anymore.”

“how long has it been?” finneas inquires this time, and you throw your head back and let out a dragged groan when the realization hits you.

“it’s been almost six years of this shit, dude.”

“six?!” claudia and finneas speak in unison, sharing a loving giggle afterwards. but they know that this is serious and very upsetting to you, so their laughs quickly subside and they leave you with a second of silence before finn speaks.

finneas sighs. “y/n, have you ever considered…telling her?”

you let out a harsh laugh, wiping at your wet eyes with the sleeve of your hoodie, “and risk ruining everything? yeah, no thanks. i’d rather suffer in silence than ever tell her.”

“but what if she feels the same way?” claudia offers gently, her smooth voice soothing to your nerves, “you won’t know unless you talk to her.”

“i know she doesn’t,” you respond quickly, shaking your head even though they can’t see you. “she doesn’t feel the same way. she’s billie. she flirts with everyone. she kisses people like it’s nothing. i’m just…i’m just her best friend.”

you’re so caught up in your spiral that you don’t hear the front door open. you don’t hear the soft creak of billie’s jordan’s against the hardwood floors. you don’t notice her until she’s standing in the doorway of the living room, her face pale, her eyes wider than saucers.

“holy shit.” billie says, her voice barely above a whisper. “i don’t think i was supposed to hear that…but um…y/n?”

your heart stops.

everything feels so surreal right now that you’re not even sure you’re breathing. you want to cry, but no tears come. you want to scream, but your mouth hangs agape, lacking sound.

you don’t even move, you just stare hard at billie like she’s foreign to you— because she is now. the secret that you’ve kept from her for so long is now out, and she didn’t hear the watered down, bullshit version that you would’ve told her yourself— she heard the words raw, and there was nothing that you could do to make her forget.

she takes a step closer, her hands trembling as she shoves them into the pockets of her hoodie. you can tell she’s nervous too, and her face is so discolored she looks like she could throw up. she picks at the skin on her lips before she speaks softly, so softly you can hardly hear it. “are you… in love with me?”

you glance at the phone, still connected to finneas and claudia, and without another word, you reach over and end the call. they’ll understand— and claudia already texts you before you shut your phone completely off, your hands are shaking as you stand up, your knees threatening to buckle under you.

there’s no point in lying now.

“i— um…yeah.” you breathe, silent tears falling down your cheeks as your eyes bore into anything but billie. but billie stares at you, her chest rising and falling like she’s trying to catch her breath. “y/n…i— w-why didn’t you tell me?”

you laugh, but the sound comes out bitter and sharp, “well…because you’re you, billie. you’re the most important person in my life, and i didn’t want to risk losing you. i thought…i thought you’d never feel the same way, so i just ignored it.”

she’s quiet for a moment, her gaze dropping to the floor. when she looks back up at you, her eyes are glassy, her voice trembling, like she’s scared too.

“but i do.”

your breath catches in your throat, and you feel like you’re gonna puke when billie speaks. your heart sinks but not in a bad way— it’s just so surreal to you. she felt the same way?

“w-what?” you stumble over your words, in disbelief, “are you sure?”

“i do.” she repeats, taking another baby step closer to you, eyes locking with yours, “and i’m sure. i’ve loved you for so long, y/n. i just…I didn’t know how to deal with it. i thought i was too much, that you deserved better than…this.” she gestures to herself, her voice breaking. “so i drank. i flirted with other people. i tried to hide it, but it never worked. it just made everything worse.”

tears are streaming down your face now, and you take a shaky step toward her. “billie…”

she closes the distance between you in an instant, her hands cupping your face, her thumbs brushing away your tears. “i love you,” she whispers, her voice raw. “i’m sorry it took me so long to say it. unironically…years.”

you giggle, but you don’t have time to respond before her lips are on yours, soft and urgent, and it’s like everything finally falls into place. her hands slide down to your waist, pulling you closer as you kiss her back with everything you’ve been holding in for what felt like eternity’s.

when you finally pull away, both of you are breathless, her forehead resting against yours. “you’re not a mess,” you murmur, your hands tangling in her hoodie. “you’re perfect, billie. you always have been.”

she smiles through her tears, her arms wrapping around you like she’s afraid to let go. “i’m so sorry,” she says softly. “for everything. please, don’t ever let me let you go.”

you let out a small chuckle as she holds you,

“don’t worry, i won’t.”