#doing my bedsheet laundry that's why it's empty

[headslikekites]

go my pikmin

[icallhimjoey]

https://www.tumblr.com/icallhimjoey/769345688851103744/i-asked-for-pyjama-vibe-joe-and-forgot-about-his

Ohhh can we get a soft pyjama and glasses Joey? Like him wearing the combo for the first time because it’s a new relationship and we looooove it. Or us stealing the shirt after freaky time. Or idek! The possibilities!

soft pyjama and glasses joey, at your service Wordcount: 2.1K

---

Not A Wink

“Wait, can you… wait here. Wait, no. Just. Yea… wait here and, also, um... yea, maybe... maybe close your eyes a second…” you pushed Joe away from your closed bedroom door, two hands to his chest.

Joe took hold of both of them as he laughed, easily letting you push him back, stepping backwards down the hall.

“What are you hiding in there that I can’t see?”

You were having a hard time hiding your own smile.

“No, nothing, I just… I’ve got to just check something, quickly. Just in case. Wait here.”

You were the cutest girl he’d ever met. Joe couldn’t quite believe he was allowed into the home of the cutest girl he’d ever met.

“Close your eyes.” You insisted, and Joe couldn’t help laugh more, his arms stretching as you walked back to your bedroom, touching until you were out of reach.

“I can’t see anything from here!”

“Close your eyes!”

Joe gave you a deadpan stare, shoulders dropping, but joy never leaving his face. When you waited by the door, hand on the handle, and looked at him in silence for a moment, he rolled his eyes and finally complied.

“It’ll just be a second,” you said, your smile evident in your voice.

Joe heard a door open, then soft footsteps, some light shuffling, and then silence. He wondered if he was going to be able to tell what needed a last minute wipe down. As if he was going to care about a crease in your bedsheets. You should see his bedroom…

“Okay, ready. You can open your eyes.”

Joe’d been a good boy and had really kept his eyes closed. When he opened them, it was to you stood in your doorway, both hands behind your back, biting down on your bottom lip as you smiled.

Cutest girl in the world.

“Yea? Am I allowed in?”

Joe got to see your bedroom exactly as you wanted it to look every day, but how you never managed to leave it. With everything in its place, no dirty laundry on the floor, no clothes on the clothes-chair, no half-empty mugs on the bedside table and, most importantly, the bed made.

You never made your bed. You’d do it once when you changed the sheets, and then left a rumpled mess behind when you rushed out of bed after sleeping through your alarm each morning.

“Wow,” Joe said, overdoing it a tad, just to fuck with you. “This looks like a hotel room.”

It didn’t. Not really.

“Thanks.” You smiled, ignoring his humorous tone and taking the compliment as if he’d really meant it. When you looked at him, you saw how his gaze had landed on where you slept in your bed. He pointed a finger as he raised his eyebrows.

“Is this from where you send me voice notes every night?” Joe took a step forward, his eyes on you as his index finger still pointed at your pillow.

You nodded, teeth digging into your lip. It was impossible to lose your smile.

“This is…” Joe started, looking at your bed for a moment, scanning the sheets and trying to picture you in that spot. No make-up, pyjamas on. Face in your pillow, phone in hand. In a short while, he wasn’t going to have to imagine that anymore. “This is sort of strange, isn’t it?” Joe mused, turning his face to see you stood in your doorway still.

“Why?” you asked, watching on as Joe sat down on top of the covers, acting like he just took a seat on a throne which made you giggle. “You’re making it strange.”

“It’s like I’m visiting a famous landmark.”

You grinned as you watched him sensibly bounce on your mattress a couple of times, getting a feel for it.

“It is like visiting a famous landmark.” You joked, and then quickly added. “Don’t leave a Google review though, I move around a lot in my sleep and I couldn’t bear the negative feedback.”

Joe laughed as he got back up, couldn’t help his arms reaching out to grab hold of you as your face beamed with pride at making Joe laugh like that. You bit your lips so hard, you nearly drew blood.

For a moment you just stood like that. Close. Holding each other, faces just inches removed, twin smiles about to burst. You weren’t going to get a wink of sleep this night.

“Did you um,” you cast your eyes down to his button-down shirt. To his jeans. “Did you bring a more comfortable outfit?”

Joe raised an eyebrow. “Are you asking if I brought my pyjamas?”

“Were you planning on watching a film in jeans?”

Ha, he thought. A film. If he’d got the chance, he’d be watching you more than he’d be watching any film this evening. His eyes tended to stick to you with too much ease.

Like right now.

“Or is this a no-bottoms sort of evening?” you challenged light-heartedly.

Joe’s eyes scanned your face a moment as he grinned.

“I brought pyjamas.” He then said, leaning down a little in hopes of sneaking a kiss.

You let him sneak one without any fuss. Warm lips of a warm smile to warm lips of a warm smile.

“In your overnight bag?” you teased, having made a big deal of the backpack he’d walked in with earlier, before dinner.

“In my overnight bag.” Joe didn’t mind how the simple fact that he brought some things over was somehow entertainment he was providing you with. It was either that, or the bad puns he’d make, and a giggle at a pair of soft pyajama bottoms didn’t feel quite as embarrassing as an awkward joke would likely make him feel.

Joe was told to change whilst you made your way into the bathroom to take your make-up off.

You felt real butterflies about the prospect of having Joe over properly for the first time ever. This was the first time you had made plans that extended to the next morning. This was going to be more than just some raunchy touching in your living room before he’d leave just before or just after midnight to go sleep in his own bed.

You were going to be wearing pyjamas around each other.

Brush your teeth in your bathroom before you’d crawl into bed together.

Prepare and have breakfast in your kitchen the next morning.

You swiped a cotton round over your eyes and heard Joe move around in your flat. Just him existing on his own in your space made your stomach flip. Halfway through your facial cleanse, Joe suddenly appeared behind you, and for a moment, you smiled at each other in the mirror. He was still in his button down, but his jeans had been replaced with a pair of faded black joggers. For a moment you thought maybe he had a question about something, but before you could even ask, he stepped forward and casually placed a dark blue toiletry bag next to the sink.

So domestic.

You refrained from opening it and having a peek inside as you finished up in the bathroom, hair tied up, face clean and bare. You made your way back to your bedroom to change into your own pyjamas and found evidence of Joe left behind. His charger in the socket on the side of the bed where he’d be sleeping. His backpack to the side. His clothes semi folded in a messy pile on the dresser.

Looking at all of Joe’s things in your bedroom with the background noise of him pottering about in your kitchen made you smile so much, you wondered when your cheeks were going to grow sore.

So domestic.

“What do you want to drink?” he called across your flat, and earlier, when Joe had offered you a drink in your own home, it had solely been to make you laugh. This time, it didn’t feel so much like a joke as it felt like he genuinely wanted to do something nice for you. Get you a drink so you wouldn’t have to get it yourself. A simple sweet gesture that probably wasn’t meant to make you feel the way it did.

There were so many things about the beginnings of a new relationship that you didn’t like.

The risk of letting a new person into your life wasn’t lost on you. Letting someone in too quick, too soon. Revealing too much of yourself too quick, too soon. The vulnerability that opened you up to the possiblity to get hurt...

Scary stuff.

But the excitement of it all? The constant uncontrollable smile you couldn’t seem to wipe off your face. The butterflies wreaking havoc inside of your stomach. Giggly breathlessness that turned nerves into excitement. The way all of it could make you feel lightheaded in the good way?

Fucking gold.

With your body in a soft cosy outfit, you found Joe in your kitchen wearing an outfit not unlike your own. For a fraction of a second, the nervous thought of Joe getting to see you in your factory settings crossed your mind.

But then you saw his glasses.

Joe hadn’t yet worn his glasses in front of you, and stood here in your living area now, in a cream-coloured cotton long-sleeved shirt, you couldn’t help the way that made your eyebrows pinch together.

How could a man look sexy and adorable at the same time?

“Glass of–... uh oh,” Joe turned around holding up a freshly opened bottle of wine, but stopped mid-sentece when he saw your expression. “Sorry, was I not meant to–”

“No, no!” you cut him off, and tried your very best to keep the laugh that bubbled up inside. “No, that’s– yes. Yes. That’s fine, yea. I would love a glass, thanks.”

Joe frowned a little in confusion, eyes narrowing, but his smile unwavering.

“It’s just,” you hestitated telling him. Thought maybe he wouldn’t appreciate what you considered to be a genuine compliment.

“Just... a bottle of wine that you were saving for a special occassion that I wasn’t meant to open?” Joe made a face, and it was becoming a little bit embarrassing at how easily he had you in stitches. “Or what?”

“No,” you laughed, and Joe couldn’t help the slight muddled huff of laughter that escaped his nose. This really wasn’t helping the cute allegations. “No, it’s just that,” you tried again, grabbing two glasses from a cabinet and placing them down in front of Joe. “You look...”

Before you finished that sentence, you let your eyes dance over him. The flash of selfconsiousness across his face only endeared him more to you.

“A mess?”

“Cute.”

You weren’t sure what kind of reaction you were expecting, but you definitely didn’t think the comment was going to make Joe blush so fiercely. Hadn’t anticipated him turning slightly shy as he put the bottle down, dropped his head to his shoulder as he squeezed his eyes shut whilst an arm reached to pull you in.

“Sorry,” you said through a giggle as you got trapped into a tight hug.

“Stealing my compliments now, are we?”

“I think it’s the glasses,” you gladly accepted the firmly pressed kisses to the top of your head.

“You think?” Joe pulled back a little and adjusted them on his nose as he looked at you through the lenses.

“Yea, I do.” You smiled, peering up at him, hoping that if you smiled and looked at his lips for long enough, he’d get the hint.

He did get the hint, but didn’t give you what you were asking for before he got both his hands on your face, both thumbs on your cheeks, both pinkies hooking your jaw.

“Guess I’ll keep them on then.” Joe managed to say through a kiss, and he said it like he’d be doing you a favour.

Which, he would be, actually. But he was joking, so you laughed against his mouth, and the giggle made Joe want to eat you alive. Swallow you whole. Squeeze your bodies together until they weren’t able to ever unstick again.

There was an open bottle of wine on the counter next to you, a TV waiting for someone to press play on its remote, and a bed eager for two bodies to occupy it all the way until the morning.

But Joe was kissing a cute girl in her kitchen, glasses bumping into her nose, and felt no rush to move out of the hold you had on him.

Cutest girl in the world.

Yea, he wasn’t going to get a wink of sleep this night.

---

The Taglist

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@take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @witchwolflea

@xxladymjxx, @yunirgo

Add yourself

[prettygirl-gabi]

Title: Cleaning Up

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader

Word Count: ~2.5k

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Comfort

POV: First-Person

Summary: cleaning isn’t always better than asking for help.

this is based off my current life experiences rn ngl….

I don’t know when it started. Maybe a few days ago, maybe weeks. Time blurs when I’m like this, stretching out like a long, dark tunnel where I can’t see the light at the end. All I know is that at some point, I stopped making my bed. Then, I stopped doing laundry. Then, dishes piled up, clothes scattered across the floor, and my desk became a mess of unopened textbooks and half-empty water bottles.

Now, my dorm room is a disaster zone.

I tell myself it’s not that bad. I just need to clean up a little, and everything will feel normal again. I just need a reset.

That’s what I tell Paige when she calls me, her voice light but laced with something knowing.

“You comin’ to team dinner, baby?” she asks, and I picture her leaning against her dorm wall, probably already dressed in one of her hoodies and sweats.

I glance at my room—clothes everywhere, my bedsheets half on the mattress, my desk cluttered with God knows what. My chest tightens. “I’m gonna sit this one out. Gotta clean.”

A pause. Then, “You sure? You’ve been missing a lot lately.”

I press my lips together. It’s not that I don’t want to see her or the team. I just can’t. Not when my head feels like it’s drowning, and my room is proof that I’m sinking.

“Yeah,” I say, trying to sound casual. “I just need to clean up a little. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Another pause. A longer one.

“…Okay.” Paige doesn’t sound convinced, but she doesn’t push. She never does.

I hang up before she can say anything else and toss my phone onto my bed.

The thing about cleaning when I’m like this is that it’s less about making things tidy and more about trying to scrub the weight off my chest. I pick up a shirt, toss it into the hamper. Grab a water bottle, throw it in the trash. Each action is small, but the mess is overwhelming, and no matter how much I do, it never feels like enough.

I don’t know how long I’ve been at it when there’s a knock at my door.

I freeze.

No one ever comes by unannounced.

I consider ignoring it, pretending I’m asleep, but then I hear voices—multiple voices.

“C’mon, we know you’re in there!” KK’s voice.

“You better open this door before I do it myself,” Ice adds.

I squeeze my eyes shut. Of course, it’s them.

I hesitate, debating whether to just pretend I’m not here, but then Paige speaks. “Baby, open up. Please.”

Something in my chest cracks.

With a sigh, I drag myself to the door and unlock it. The second I do, they push inside like a wave. KK, Ice, Aubrey, Azzi, and, of course, Paige, standing in the middle of them with a look that’s a mix of concern and quiet understanding.

They don’t say anything at first. Their eyes sweep over my room, taking in the disaster. I wait for the judgment, for the comments about how gross it is, but they never come.

Instead, KK claps her hands. “Alright, let’s get to work.”

I blink. “What?”

Azzi moves past me, already gathering my laundry. “You sort your clothes or just throw ‘em all together?”

“Uh… just throw them together?”

“Cool.” She grabs my hamper and heads for the door like she’s done this a million times.

Ice starts picking up the trash, Aubrey is straightening my bed, and KK is gathering the mess on my desk. It’s like they planned this.

Paige doesn’t move at first. She just looks at me.

“Why are y’all doing this?” I ask, my voice quiet.

Paige finally steps closer, placing a hand on my cheek, her thumb brushing gently over my skin. “Because we know what this means for you,” she murmurs.

I swallow hard.

“We’ve known for a while,” Aubrey adds, smoothing out my blankets. “You always disappear when your room gets bad.”

“You call it ‘cleaning,’ but really, it’s you spiraling,” Ice says, not unkindly. “So, we figured we’d help.”

My throat tightens. I look at Paige, who’s still watching me with those soft blue eyes, and something in me breaks. I didn’t think anyone noticed. I didn’t think anyone cared.

I turn away quickly, blinking back tears.

“You don’t have to do this,” I say, my voice shaky.

“Yeah, we do,” Paige says. “Because we love you.”

The words hit me harder than they should. I press my lips together, trying to hold it together, but then Paige wraps her arms around me from behind, pressing her forehead against my shoulder.

“You don’t have to do everything alone,” she whispers.

And that’s it. The dam breaks.

I turn in her arms, burying my face in her hoodie, and she holds me like she’s been waiting for me to let go. My hands clutch at her, and I shake, silent sobs wracking through me.

The room is quiet except for the sounds of them moving around, cleaning up the pieces of my mess. Of me.

And for the first time in weeks, I don’t feel so alone.

By the time they’re done, my room looks… normal. The bed is made, the trash is gone, my clothes are either folded or being washed. It doesn’t feel suffocating anymore.

I sit on my bed, exhausted but lighter. Paige sits beside me, threading her fingers through mine.

“We’re always here,” she says softly.

I nod, squeezing her hand.

“Next time, just tell us,” KK says, sitting on the floor with a grin. “Or don’t. Either way, we’re coming.”

I laugh—a real laugh—for the first time in what feels like forever.

“Y’all are the worst,” I mutter, but it’s filled with affection.

Paige leans over, pressing a kiss to my temple. “Nah. We’re just your people.”

And maybe, just maybe, that’s enough to keep me from drowning.

---

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                 -Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

                             -prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[agnesafterhours]

lavender haze | lee know. smut.

Your boyfriend is not prone to communicating his feelings through words, but luckily for him, you always know exactly what he needs. (1.9k words)

CONTENT: smut, boyfriend!lino, creampie, unprotected sex and cum eating. minors and empty blogs do not interact.

© all rights reserved. i do not allow reposting and/or translations of my work.

Contrary to popular belief, Minho sulks often. You do understand why people would believe that isn’t the case—your boyfriend’s dry jokes followed by a sarcastic smile being one of the reasons why you were drawn to him in the first place. When you first met him a couple years back, when he was still doing busking events with his dance crew alongside a common friend of yours, you’d watch in doe-eyed adoration as he’d flash his bunny teeth in a playful grin to his crewmates each time they got one move slightly wrong. What pissed them off the most is they could never get back at Minho—he never forgot any moves, never missed a beat. His justifiable confidence made him oh so irritating—you were attracted like moth to a flame to his character, his knife-sharp features matching his equally piercing sense of humour were fuel to the fire. 

But the thing about your boyfriend's sulking is that it is often unjustifiable. Of course he doesn't need a reason to want to be pampered by you, but it'd be nice if Minho admitted he also likes to be taken care of at least once in a while.  

“What did I do to deserve this torture?” The ever so intimidating choreographer mumbles from his spot on your bed, your pastel pink pillowcases being a little counterproductive to the assertive tone he's been trying to use on you. 

Minho can’t suppress the smirk forming on his lips at your scoff, “Torture? I'm just asking you to wait! These bedsheets got here like, two weeks ago!” You're on your feet, struggling to fold one of the new huge linens to store in your closet. “If they stay in these bags any longer they're gonna start smelling weird.” 

“You know that's not how it works, right?” 

“I don't care. You know you should be helping me, right?” You look back, a smirk of your own automatically taking place when your eyes find his. 

Despite the lopsided smile that seems to be permanently plastered on his face, Minho grunts as he drags his body out of the comforter and towards you, “You know you should wash these before putting them away, right?”  

And as soon as your eyebrows raise and he sees the very familiar smile on your lips as you push the sheet into his arms, your boyfriend realizes he fell right into your trap, “Have it your way, then!” 

The man watches as you jump in bed, getting comfortable on the spot he previously was—eyes filled with the similar overwhelming fondness they usually hold when Minho looks at you. “You’re annoying.” He takes off the rest of the sheeting from it’s flimsy plastic bags, making his way to the laundry room. “Don’t fall asleep!” He exclaims from the hallway. 

“I’m not making any promises!” 

“Don’t sleep! I wanna spend time with you!” Unfortunately, no amount of stubbornness can take away Minho's super power of having you giggling into your pillow. He wants to spend time with you. He's the love of your life and he wants to spend time with you.  

Those are the feelings you can't quite understand. You’ve been with Minho for so long—at least long enough you've been through the “honeymoon stage” everyone seems to fear the ending of. For you, it feels like this stage never seems to be over. You pray it never ends.  

So here you are, kicking your feet because your long term boyfriend said he wants to spend time with you. At least you know he's as obsessive as you are, if not slightly more. 

Minho's way of showering you with love was overwhelming. He isn't the type to communicate his feelings through words, instead, he'd do things like casually tell you about getting into a rather serious argument with his manager, trying to get the day off so he’d spend your birthday with you. Of course he would be busy, cooking your favourite meal as he casually narrates the dramatics him and his group went through trying to get his needs respected. He doesn't look you in the eye when he says he got emotional, the only reason why his manager gave in being Minho “never behaved like this before”. This is his way of saying you're his utmost priority, can't you tell? The redness of his ears and fidgety eyes are a big hint of the nervousness Minho prayed you wouldn't pick up on. Unfortunately for him, you know him like the back of your hand.  

You know that a quick glance your way means someone said something he found amusing in a way. If his hand fell to your lower back in social gatherings, it means Minho is a bit nervous and needs some grounding. If he's too silent, you know to sit beside him and wait until it all comes pouring out. With you, it always does. If he's vocalizing how tired he is, you know he'd enjoy talking for hours on end about anything that comes to his mind. Minho always needs you, he just has very specific patterns to show you exactly what he's currently craving from you. Fortunately for him, he's your favourite subject matter. He's the only thing you ever want to pay attention to—the sole owner of your entire focus.  

That's why you know exactly what he needs when he flops back on the bed, and after a few moments of silence, blurts out “I miss you. I missed you a lot this week." 

You crawl out of your nest and straddle your boyfriend's lap, dragging your comforter along and covering you both with it.  

You're both silent as you hold his cheeks, taking your time as you kiss them, then his forehead, and the mole on his nose—at least a couple times each. Minho's hand slides down your lower back when your lips find his, tongue slowly tasting his as you feel his heart beating tranquilly against the palm of your hand sliding up and down his chest. You feel his right hand gently cupping the back of your neck, holding you close against him as the other sneaked under your shirt, slowly caressing your bare back.  

Minho doesn't try to take control of the kiss like he usually does—neither do you. Your bodies seem to move in harmony, the glacial movements of his tongue making you sigh against his mouth every now and again, promptly resulting in a smirk of his. You loved kissing his smile. 

“Missed you so much, baby.” He repeated softly against your lips. Minho now had both hands under your shirt, his touch leaving goosebumps as he caressed up and down your sides.  

“Missed you too. Always miss you so much, Min.” Your breathing is a bit compromised now, hands moving on their own as you remove your own shirt.  

Minho quickly follows, his palms back on your hips as soon as his shirt is tossed to the side. “I know you do, pretty. I know.” 

His hands lay on your ass, groping as he whispers against your lips. “Spent the entire week thinking about fucking you. Gonna lay on your side for me, pretty? Hm? Gonna do it just how I like it?” 

Too much, too much, too much. You don't think you're really moaning anymore, but you're sure your mouth's been hanging open for a while. Minho’s hips are slow as he hits the deepest parts of you, holding your squirming body for a few seconds each time he bottoms out. The sweet, lazy drag of his cock inside you make your lust disable all of your senses. He felt heavy, thick, so deep inside you. Full. You felt so, so full.  

Somewhere in the haze you feel his palms making their way towards your chest, you process a bit of squirming as he squeezes them, massaging your breasts as he continued his torturously slow assault on your g-spot. 

Minho can feel every cell fighting against his urge to mount and pump into you as fast as he pleases, but he'd endure anything if it means he gets to hear your drawn out whines as he rocks his hips back and forth, your entire body shivering every time he pauses deep inside of you for a few moments.

He runs his hand through the goosebumps of your arms and back to your chest again. After feeling you up a bit more, your boyfriend takes your hand and drags it south as he presses on your lower stomach, making you feel him moving inside you. 

“You're feeling how good I fill you up, honey? Can you feel it?” His breathing is much more ragged now, Minho's body is visibly shuddering behind you as well. You squeeze around and him, bringing his hips to a stop. 

You look back, staring at his open mouth as you inhale each other's heavy breaths. As if snapped out of a trance, Minho kisses you roughly. He swallows each of your moans when his hips start swaying back and forth again, still as slow and rough as he was.  

His hand leaves yours as he reaches for your chin, spit dribbling down your lips. 

“So fucked out you're drooling for me. God, you're so good, baby. You take it so good.” 

“Holy shit, Minho! So close, so close, so close-” Your voice is no longer a whisper as it's pitch gets higher, your orgasm dangling in front of you in a fever dream. You feel him everywhere and it's almost too much, but certainly not enough. You're so overstimulated you don't know what to focus on to reach your high—both your senses and judgment so clouded you can't muster the brainpower to figure out what you need. 

Luckily for you, Minho knows you like the back of his hand. “I love you. Love you so much.” 

You can't tell how long it lasts, you're barely able to process Minho coming inside you. You feel the ghost of his hands holding your hips still as he whimpers in your ear—the sound alone making you shiver all over again. Your body shakes in his hold, limbs giving out after a prolonged orgasm you're not used to experiencing.  

“Love you too… Love you so much…” The words mindlessly escape your lips as your head slowly sways, fingers twirling the ends of your splayed out hair. 

Your eyes are closed as he lays you on your back, adjusting the pillow under your head as he chuckles. “Love you too, pretty. Hang in there just a second.” 

You feel his hands caressing your body as he handles you, a sixth sense making you chuckle when you realize he spread your legs but didn't start cleaning you up. 

His hands run down your thighs, you can hear the smirk on his voice. “What's up?” 

“Stop staring.” You say, humming with your eyes still closed. 

“Don't wanna.” You feel his fingers sliding through your core. “Mouth wide open for me, baby. Come on.” 

You sigh when you get a taste of his coated fingers, lips wrapping around as your tongue licks in between them. You open your eyes to find him hovering above you, eyes fix in your mouth. 

The look you give Minho makes him dizzy—the way you stare up at him with your big doe eyes in such adoration while sucking cum off his fingers almost made his heart burst. He can feel how each beat of it belongs to you, his heartbeat chained to a rhythm that followed your own.  

Chest to chest, Minho watches as your eyes sparkle, your hand softly stroking the back of his head. A smile forms on your lips when you pop his fingers out of your mouth as you breathily mutter against them. “You know I'm gonna marry you someday, right?” 

[luvrodite]

WHERE YOU LEAD JASON TODD

↳ roommate!jason + gilmore girls

“Hey have you-what are you watching?”

You look up from where you’re nestled under your bedsheets and all thoughts of what he was going to ask promptly empty out of Jason’s head. He’s paused, leaning against your doorframe. This is a common occurrence, the wood has borne his weight so many times he wonders if he hasn’t left a dent in the frame.

He likes the routine the both of you have, and that for all you argue with him, you don’t seem to mind too much when he comes in to talk to you. If he had to pick a favourite spot in the apartment, Jason thinks he’d probably choose this, here. Standing in your doorway, the smell of the candles you’d burned the night before lingering in the air and the clutter of trinkets lining your desk.

Your laptop lays atop your sheets, and Jason leans closer to get a look at what’s on your screen.

“I’m watching my show,” you say and he notes the weariness lining your features.

A pang of sympathy strikes through him. He knows the week has been long, and the shadows under your eyes are deeper than they usually appear. He’s given you a wide berth these last few days, not wanting to piss you off any more than you already have been.

“Is that new?” He asks curiously. “Haven’t seen you watch that before.”

You make a face at him, slightly incredulous. “Jason, yes, you have. You literally saw me watching it last week, when you came home from work, remember?”

He squints. The faces on your screen do look vaguely familiar. You sigh.

“Forget about it. What were you saying?”

He grimaces. “Ah, I’ve forgotten now. Your show distracted me.”

You shake your head. When he lingers in the doorway, you look at him funny. “Do you…want to watch?”

Jason shrugs, making his way over. He’s sufficiently curious now, and you move over on your bed to make space for him. Briefly he wonders why the both of you don’t just watch it in the living room, but when he settles onto your mattress and the smell of your laundry detergent hits his nose, he doesn’t mind so much. Your bed is soft, and your room warm against the autumn chill.

The multitude of pillows on your bed make him snicker as he adjusts them, thinking of the various pillow forts he’d coerced his brother into making when they’d been younger. The tv show you’re watching is decidedly a lot tamer than the horror movies they’d stayed up all night watching, always ending with Dick and him creeping into Bruce’s room in the middle of the night, but he finds himself enjoying it all the same.

“So, what’s going on?” He asks and you pause it, looking troubled.

“Maybe we should watch the pilot,” you say. “You aren’t going to get everything that’s going on even if I explain it to you.”

He looks at you flatly. “Seriously? I can do fine on my own with context clues if you’re too lazy to explain it.”

You squawk at him indignantly, swatting his arm. “I am not lazy, you just need to be fully immersed!”

“Whatever, put the pilot on,” he grumbles and you nod, navigating through the website to start the show from the beginning.

And he really doesn’t think he’s going to enjoy it too much–they’re so quippy, it reminds him of Tim and Steph but the sun sinks in the sky and he’s curled up against you, watching mother and daughter exchange witty jokes, enraptured.

You lean against his side, commenting every so often on the nuances of Gilmore Girls, giggling when he scoffs at the characters, muttering his opinions to you in between the lines.

“This Luke guy’s the only sane one here,” he says and you snort. He looks down at you, grinning. “What?”

“Nothing,” you laugh, pressing your fingers to your mouth to hide your smile. He nudges you. “It’s just–I knew you’d say that. He’s so you.”

“He’s so grumpy,” Jason protests and you raise your eyebrows pointedly. His mouth drops open. "You think I'm grumpy?"

"You're not exactly all smiles," you argue, sitting up properly to look at him. He's still reclined against the pillows and for a moment he thinks he sees something flash in your eyes, faltering for the briefest moment before you continue. "You've always got something smart to say."

He laughs. "That's because you make it too easy."

You roll your eyes, and sit back, curling up under the blankets. Jason adjusts your laptop where it had been jostled. "Whatever, shut up and watch the show."

You fall asleep against him to the sounds of Emily and Lorelai arguing, and Jason thinks that when the next weekend comes around, he might have to negotiate with you so that he can continue watching it.

thank u for this request mage!! i hope you don't mind, but i thought it fit in well in the roommate au <3

[jamie4370]

First Post

I didn't want this to be a depressing one but here I am, with my thoughts. I am hopelessly, romantically in love with a girl that left the town I so desperately wanted to move back to. 7 years ago I had met this girl working at the same place as me. I always thought she was SO hot. I had a girlfriend at the time so I tried my best to stay out of trouble. I never cheated, but I did eventually break up with my then partner to be with this girl. I'm getting tired of calling her girl, so lets call her A.

A and I immediately slept with each other after she had spent an afternoon at one of my college house parties. I would have never guessed that they were into me and my craziness. A had long brown curly hair that always had hints of whatever shampoo and conditioner treatment she was on, I still remember slightly what it smelt like: it smelt like fresh laundry and it reminded me of sunshine. She has the coolest blue eyes with a green fringe around the center. A has a voice that has a previous smokers rasp, but the sweetest, melting, feminine voice that comes through that gave me chills. For the next three months we had sex, explored each others personalities and kinks. We watched seasons of Bob's Burgers from cover to cover all day in bed in between our classes and work. We had kept it from all of our coworkers because I was a manager and she was a level below me. We drank and partied together. We woke up together. It was the best time that I've had with anyone. Ever. I still remember what it was like to be next to each other under my cheesy camouflaged bedsheets that I had in college. We were in love but we didn't know how to say it to each other.

One July night, when I was alone: I had a knock at my door from my ex-girlfriend (she lived about 3 hours away so it was really weird that she was there). She confessed that she had missed me and professed their love for me right there. She said that she had wanted to have make-up sex. Me and my weak, mid-twenties, stupid, horny, self accepted. I thought that A would never go for me and what we had was plutonic, she wasn't telling me she wanted to be exclusive. What a god damn mistake.

I told A the next day. In tears and sitting on my bed for what felt like the last time, A confessed that she loved me and that she wanted to be with me. My heart immediately sank and I felt like I had unknowingly betrayed what she was trying to say this whole time. I was lost. I tried to break up with my ex-girlfriend again after two months in hopes that A would take me back. I tried to see it through with my ex. A said she did not have the time to deal with her emotions in time for us to be okay again. I never would have done what I did to have a shot with A and over the next 7 years we would have the skinniest of loves two people could ever have.

We constantly stalked each others social media pages. We made contact every now and again but it never felt like anything of substance. At a certain point when I had broken up with the partner that I had been seeing for five years, I would try to text A. No reply. I don't know why these feelings are so intense when we had only been together for 3 months. It felt natural for me to want to talk to her.

I felt even more hopeless and depressed. My life felt like I had spent the last 7 years waiting on something that had almost no chance of ever happening again. I always thought that if the universe gave me a sign to be with someone, it was with A. I hated myself. I hated who I was and I was never happy with anything that I did. Everywhere I went A came with me. I don't know what kind of mental instability this was but I found myself in the bathroom crying at parties and always feeling depressed at work. I was an empty vessel, drifting in space.

One day, I decided to sum up the courage to text A and see how they were doing for the last time. I thought I was going to text A and finally begin my journey on getting through all of this madness. I didn't think she was going to ever respond.

The next day she did text me back. It was like my dream came true, and at the last straw. I was bound for a happy relationship with the person I SO desperately longed for. We talked and decided to meet at a bar that we regularly go to. We talked and you could tell that we both were nervous. I tried to dress up a little and put on my favorite fragrance. We met and it was perfect.... Except the part where she said she was moving more than 8 hours away. I didn't care. I wanted to be with her. Even if it was for a few months. We kissed at the end and she admitted that she didn't want to let me go in that cold weather of February. I was in bliss on the hour car drive back to my old apartment.

For the next few months we started right where we had left off. A had looked a little different since the last time we had seen each other and they were a little self conscious. I didn't care. The person I love is back together with me. I was trying to focus on the present and the fact that we had what we wanted and it was beautiful. We learned our everchanging kinks and talked about what we had been doing the past few years. She said that she had worked at another bar that I would regular at. She then quit and became a nanny for this couple that payed her ok money. I told her that I had moved away to pursue an engineering career but that I'm moving back because I loved the city (kind-of true). It wouldn't be until later that I could get an apartment lined up for the time being, so it was an hour drive from where I was.

I could be myself around her and her to me. When the date of A's departure was rapidly approaching she kept making comments about moving and the plans that she had when she moved. Every time those words came out I would immediately turn to anger and resentment. I would say that A never cared about me and that she wanted to move away so that she could get away from our relationship. I had this blow-up reaction a few times until one day she asked me if what this was, was 'too much for me?'. I broke down and said yes. Of course I didn't want her to move. I fucking love her SO much. We had another mud fight of an argument that we said nasty things to each other. Finally, we had had enough. We stopped talking to each other April of this year. I tried calling A once more because I has having serious thoughts about cu**ing myself. No reply, so..... Who could have stopped me? I'm in my thirties and I still manage to bring up the high school days.

I think its getting better but I'm constantly surrounded by negativity in my life. My brother hates me, I can't see my dogs because I lashed out at the ex-girlfriend I am sharing them with, my grandmother and mother are having a serious conflict, I can't sleep, I cry constantly, I have a drinking problem, a nicotine problem, my bestfriend slept with my last girlfriend at my other bestfriends wedding, and on top of all that, I am transitioning genders. My hormones have not done me any favors over the past few months.

I talk to my therapist constantly about A still. I seem to think I'm being annoying by how much I talk about her. It's hard to rummage through all of the memories and try to think of the good when all it feels like some times is loss. Spectacular, unadulterated, fantastic loss. I miss her dearly. I don't know if she feels the same. I told here that she may not find me the way she left me. "My heart is big, but not big enough for the convenience of others." or some stupid quote like that.

I don't do much right now. I play video games, watch football, read, draw, blog, etc. I'm out of love to give right now. I have had my heart stomped on this past year, yet, I have accomplished so much. I bought my first house, I started a new job, I got medicated for depression and anxiety, I've been on hormones for 6 months now, I got my roof redone, and I won an award for one of the projects I've done! It all feels overshadowed by this lingering darkness that feels oddly familiar.

I feel very alone right now...

Maybe A will read this one day and move back to this town and take me off my feet.

Maybe I'm, getting ahead of myself.

[100dayproductivity]

72/100.

This morning's cup of coffee. I'm not sure why the daffodils are IN the cup of coffee but ok AI, lol.

Ok, the daffodils were really bugging me so I tried again. It had no problem with "English garden" (left) but really struggled with "tulip & daffodil garden". I don't think it understands the ampersand so I got rid of that. Finally got the image on the right but it really had to "think" about it. Much better than the first try though!

Anyho.

Yesterday's to-do list:

Mow the lawn

Process payments from clients that already paid!

More laundry

Pick up tomato sauce for tonight's supper. (I already had some in the pantry! Woot!)

Empty dishwasher

Clean cat litter

Scrub litter box I left out in the rain to soak

Put away laundry I washed yesterday

Order my kid's school photos

I did it! I actually scratched everything off my list yesterday!! It was mentally exhausting to stay focused and on track, though. This is why I'm beginning to wonder: do I have some form of ADHD? I'm convinced that my brother does (undiagnosed) and honestly would not be surprised if my sister does too (diagnosed bipolar). And my parents... well, my whole family just seem like people with a lot of ideas and interests but difficulty seeing anything through to completion. But also the ability to be hyper-focused on things that really interest them. I think some people thought my parents were "lazy" because our house was always a mess and neither worked a "regular" job but I think my parents were interesting and intelligent and always doing and learning.

Ok, enough about my childhood, here's today's to-do:

Pick up condolence card for friend that has lost a close relative

More laundry (bedsheets)

Pick up sandwich fixings for lunches

Take cat to vet

Clean up leaves in backyard

Vacuum upstairs hallway and stairs

About the leaves in the yard. Yes, I know it's already May, and I haven't cleaned up the yard yet?? HOWEVER. When I raked the lawn the other day, a big fat bumblebee came flying out from under there! Did you know bees hibernate (or get born, or whatever they do, I don't know, I'm not a bee expert) under the old winter pile of leaves? So it's best to hold off on raking in the spring if you want to help bees survive and flourish. And we want bees to survive and flourish. So I'm pretty pleased with myself for not having raked the leaves until two days ago, lol. Just doing my part to save the planet! 👍

I'm pretty sure I'm procrastinating now. I really want to drink more coffee, and then I'll get to it, I promise.

Good luck with today!

[euphorajeon]

between grocery trips and boxing sessions, where do we stand? | jjk

— pairing: boxer!jk x f. reader

— genre: fluff | college!au, boxer!jk, childhood friend!jk, friends to lovers, idiots to lovers

— word count: 3.3k

— warnings: harsh words, tattooed and pierced jk (eyebrow and lip), making out, both jk and oc being idiots

— summary: after too many trips to the grocery store and boxing gym, the blurry lines start clouding your vision. he’s determined to set things straight—his way.

masterlist | boxer!gguk masterlist

Cleaning duty sucks.

You have been aware of this fact ever since you were little, when your mom would tell you to help her clean around the kitchen while she was cooking. Back then, it was only as simple as helping her keep the counter clean by throwing plastic wrappers into the trash can. You soon realized, though, that life wasn’t gonna be that simple forever as you hauled trash bags outside on the daily.

As you grow even older, you learn that cleaning goes far beyond throwing the trash out.

“... don’t forget to vacuum the floor, wipe the kitchen counter after you cook, and oh— please change my bedsheets and do the laundry, okay sweetie? We’ll be back next week. Love you!”

That was your mom’s farewell message as she got into the car with your dad, off to a vacation in a location unknown to you. Apparently they thought it was a good idea to go on a vacation when you’re home because then they wouldn’t have to worry about the house being empty and dirty when they’re away. You almost felt offended that they were treating you like a housekeeper, but you guess they deserved some alone time away from you after taking care of you for the past 19 years.

Suddenly feeling obligated to repay what they have done for you for all your life, you start checking off things in the mental note you made of the list your mom gave you. You vacuumed the floor, did the laundry, changed the sheets in your parents’ bedroom, wiped the kitchen squeaky clean, even made time to water your mom’s plants even though she didn’t ask you to do it. All in one day.

By the time you finish everything and have taken a shower, it’s nearing midnight and your whole body is too sore and heavy to even get yourself to bed. You take refuge in the living room couch, one arm over your eyes because you really don’t have the energy to get up and turn the lights off. Maybe putting this off until the last minute was a terrible idea after all.

The soft couch cushion you’re lying on makes it so easy to slip into slumber, like a lullaby welcoming you to sleep with its open arms. You don’t even care that the room is still bright or the fact that you don’t have a blanket on, you still let sleep take you away. It doesn’t occur to your tired mind that you haven’t even locked the doors yet.

You’ve only been asleep for a few minutes when your mind registers faint murmurs from a person who’s sitting by your waist on the couch.

“.... she’s fine …”

“... asleep now, yeah …”

“... yes, I will, okay …”

“ … yeah, no problem. Bye.”

There’s a split second of fear upon realizing you were supposed to be alone in the house right now, but something about the person’s voice sounds so familiar that you find yourself relaxing rather quickly. When you crack one eye open to check, a pair of round eyes stares back at you with worry. You close your eyes again with a groan.

“What are you doing here.”

He doesn’t answer your question and instead nudges your arm away from your face so he can press his palm against your forehead. The warmth it provides you is so fleeting that when he pulls away you find yourself wanting to reach for his hand to put it back on your forehead. (You hate how weak you are to his body warmth.)

He is obviously unaware of your inner dilemma and he sounds upset as he says his next words.

“Why didn’t you answer your phone? Do you know how worried I was when I received a call from your mom sobbing, saying that she hadn’t been able to reach you for the past hour? Do you know how fast I was driving just to get here as soon as possible? Do you even have any idea how upset I am right now to find you sleeping on the couch? Why are you sleeping on the couch anyway?”

His increasing volume is too loud for your still-hazy mind and you flail your arms around to get him to shut up. After taking some time to process his train of concern, your focus is set on one thing:

“Why did my mom call you of all people?”

“That’s the only thing you heard from my abundance of questions? Seriously?” He sounds offended. “Find your phone. I’m going to sleep here because apparently I can’t leave you unsupervised for one day without you going MIA and causing everyone to panic.”

He gets up from the couch and you open your eyes to see him headed for the door. You just realize that he’s in his gym clothes, hair still wet with perspiration. Was he in the middle of a boxing session when your mom called? How bad was it that he didn’t think to shower first before going straight to your home?

You decide to ignore the weird feeling in your chest that arose after those thoughts, choosing to instead search for your phone like Jeongguk told you to. You find it lying next to the television, run out of battery because you had used Spotify on it while you were cleaning all day. Clearly plugging it into the charger had slipped your mind when you were busy being exhausted after deep-cleaning your house and its contents.

Jeongguk comes back into the house with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, confirming your suspicion earlier that he came straight from a boxing session. He locks the door behind him and faces you with a stern look on his face.

“I’m going to take a shower,” he says. “Please don’t do anything stupid while I do.”

You roll your eyes. “My phone was dead and I fell asleep! It wasn’t stupid!”

He’s already turning around but has time to slip in a last comment over his shoulder. “Stupid enough to make your mom call your boyfriend while crying.”

This man just won’t give you a break. First he came barging into your house, yelled at you when you were half-asleep, dumped information about your mom calling him while crying, announced he was going to spend the night here, and now he calls himself your boyfriend?

What the hell is going on?

You plug your phone into the charger and wait for it to turn back on. It takes a while, and when it does you almost have a headache from how many missed calls there are from your mom. There are a few from your dad too, and even three from Jeongguk himself. It’s no wonder he had hurried straight home from the gym, your mom must have called him while spewing nonsense about how she was afraid that you were kidnapped or something.

You send a text to both your parents to assure them that you are okay before putting your phone down to let it charge. The absence of the device from your hand makes you suddenly aware of the faint sounds from the bathroom, reminding you that you are no longer alone in the house.

“Jeon Jeongguk! Don’t use my shampoo!”

You’re falling asleep again in the exact same spot when a freshly-showered Jeongguk dumps his body on top of yours, completely disregarding the fact that his big build could crush you. You try to shove him off you but he makes himself a dead weight, refusing to budge. You wonder how this man still has this much strength when he just got back from exercising half an hour prior.

“I’m sorry,” he says from his position on your chest. “For yelling at you. I was really worried and scared that something bad had happened to you.”

You feel his words more than you hear them, half because of his position and the other half because he lets them out in a sound above a whisper. He sounds genuinely sorry for once, the usual playful undertones gone from his voice. You pat his back softly to let him know he doesn’t have anything to worry about.

“But seriously though, what were you doing that you were completely off the grid? Your mom was almost hysterical when she called me, you know.” He splays his hands on your stomach, propping his chin on them in order to look at your face.

“Cleaning,” you mumble out. “Mom told me to deep-clean the house while she’s away and I put it off until today because a certain someone couldn’t stop bothering me for the past week.”

Your eyes are still closed so you can’t see the expression Jeongguk is making in response to your answer, but you’re pretty sure he’s scoffing right now.

“I was supervising you,” he says. “Also don’t act like you hate spending time with me, I still remember that one time you drooled over my muscles while I was boxing.”

“Shut up or I’m kicking you out.”

“How exactly are you going to do that? You’re currently stuck between the couch and my very muscly body and I have my big arms around your body, you’re literally trapped.” As if to prove his point, his hold on your waist tightens just a fraction. “You’re not going anywhere, sweetheart.”

“Dreamland, that’s where I’m going.” You put your arm over your eyes again, a sign that you’re done dealing with this human being on your stomach. “Good night, Jeongguk.”

“Aw, come on,” Jeongguk whines. “You have your boyfriend in your home, your parents are away, and it’s only a little past midnight. Other girls would kill for an opportunity like this and all you wanna do is sleep?”

You heave out a huge sigh before opening your eyes to look at him with an annoyed expression on your face.

“Okay, first, I’m not ‘other girls’—” You make air quotation marks with your hands. “—and I just really want to go to sleep right now. Second, you’re gross. Third, you’re not my boyfriend. Stop saying you are.”

At that, he lifts himself off you but keeps hovering, his figure casting a shadow over you. “Hold on. What do you mean I’m not your boyfriend?”

“What do you mean ‘what do I mean’??”

He sounds confused. You sound even more confused.

The bewildered expression on his face doesn’t falter as he sits up, prompting you to do the same. “I, me, Jeon Jeongguk—” he points at himself with every word he says, “—am your boyfriend. You—” he points at you, “—are my girlfriend. Aren’t you??”

Your mouth is agape. “Since when??”

“Since the day I got here and you stared at my tattoos and piercings and we made out on this very couch?”

“What makes you think that makes me your girlfriend??”

“Well, you did kiss me first.”

“You tempted me to!”

“Ah, so you admit my lips are tempting?”

You pull at your hair in frustration, barely holding a scream in. Jeongguk looks like he’s having the time of his life teasing you like this.

“My point is,” you say through gritted teeth, “kissing each other doesn’t make us boyfriend and girlfriend. It takes way more shit to be my boyfriend.”

“Like what?” Jeongguk challenges.

“Oh I don’t know.. going on dates? Tell me you like me? Ask me if I want to be your girlfriend?”

You glare when he only chuckles as if you’re the one being ridiculous and not him. Sometimes you wonder if the gears in his head are working right; it seems like they malfunctioned at some point and are now turning backwards, resulting in his absurd behavior.

“We go on dates though?” When you only respond with a frown, he elaborates. “Grocery shopping dates?”

“That’s— that’s not a date, that’s me trying to shop in peace while trying to stop you from throwing anything and everything into the cart and potentially making us go over the budget limit.”

“Okay, guilty.” Jeongguk puts his hands up in mock surrender. “But I take you to my boxing sessions too! That’s a date! Kinda.. sorta..” he trails off with a guilty grin. You’re not convinced at all.

Heaving a sigh, you feel all of the energy in your body evaporate just from dealing with the boy in front of you. It doesn’t help that it’s almost two in the morning and your whole body is still sore from cleaning the house for the entire day.

“I don’t know how you can look like that but be clueless about this kinda thing,” you mumble, yawning before continuing your sentence. “If you want someone to be your girlfriend, tell her how you feel properly. Show her that you like her, that you want to be with her. Dragging her around and kissing her unprompted is not the way to do it, Jeongguk.”

“I don’t see it as dragging you around, though,” he says with a frown. “I ask you to go with me because I want you there with me. I never needed help choosing the brand for the milk my mom asked for because we always get the same brand every time. I just like the way you argued with me in the dairy aisle because I insisted that my mom wanted skimmed milk instead of whole milk. It was cute that you remembered how I had thrown up after drinking a glass of skimmed milk when I was twelve. The little things, you know?”

His somber expression lights up when he grins cheekily. “As for the boxing sessions, I just like watching you drool over my muscles and deny it when you’re caught.”

You grab a pillow closest to you and smack him square in the face with it.

“Alright, alright. I wanted to impress you with my boxing skills and show you that I’m no longer that skinny kid you knew in grade school. Like, ‘I’m cool now would you please look at me’ kinda way.”

You relent after his confession. “Yeah, alright, you’re cool now. Still though, all of that is useless because you didn’t say anything about wanting me to be your girlfriend.”

“Yeah.. sorry about the lack of words. But I did show you a lot how much I wanted to be your boyfriend, like this.”

He leans forward and captures your lips with his.

Your mind immediately focuses on how his lip ring feels against your lips, the piece of silver never failing to make you feel things even after countless times of tasting it between your lips. You wonder if the reason he got the piercing in the first place was to make anyone who kisses him crazy and become addicted to kissing his lips, because you sure are. (But you won’t admit it directly to his face.)

You’re enjoying the way his lips press against yours when he groans in protest, hands reaching for your waist to pull you on his lap. You put your arms around his neck and he takes that as a cue to pull your body flush against his. All the while never breaking contact between his lips and yours.

When you’re playing with his lip ring with your tongue, you feel his lips lift up into a smirk, making you realize you have fallen into a trap so perfectly set you didn’t even see it coming. You pull away abruptly to give this boy a piece of your mind, but any thoughts you previously have are gone when he moves down and plants open-mouthed kisses down your throat.

“Still loving the ring, I see,” he says hotly against your skin. He trails his kisses upwards to your earlobe with his tongue peeking out, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “Should I get one on my tongue too? Bet it would feel so much better than the one on my lip.”

The mental image of Jeon Jeongguk with piercings on both his lip and tongue is so dangerous that you will yourself to voice your objection aloud. “P-please don’t.”

“Why not?” he taunts. “I can already see you sucking on it, tugging on it with your own tongue.” He makes his way back down and is now mouthing at your collarbone. Kisses escalate into bites and you have to hold down a moan when he starts sucking at the spot. “Would feel amazing when I run my tongue on your lips.. the other lips too..”

You shudder thinking about the endless possibilities. And that is exactly why you need to stop this boy from getting a tongue piercing just for the sole purpose of riling you up.

“Y-you know.. this is not h-how you convince someone to be y-your girlfriend..”

“Hm.. really?” he nips at your neck and you yelp. “You seem to be enjoying this just fine.”

“Am n-not..”

“Say that again and I’ll make sure to use my lip ring on your other lips to shut you up.”

You bite your tongue in fear he will do as he says. There’s only so much you can take in one night.

“Good girl,” he says before crashing his lips back on yours.

In the morning, you find yourself waking up on the couch with Jeongguk splayed on top of you like a human body pillow. His head is on your chest, his messy hair sticking out in a hundred different directions. You belatedly realize that his hair smells like yours, which can only mean that he used your shampoo when showering last night. Must have missed your mind when you were occupied by another part of his body.

Him being on top of you makes you mostly immobile, only being able to move your arms around. So you settle on wrapping them around his frame, one hand reaching for his head so you can run your fingers through his hair slowly. The action is so soothing that you soon find yourself closing your eyes and slipping back to sleep.

You jolt awake, though, when your mom’s voice sounds from above you.

“Honey, you’re awake, right? Wake your boyfriend so you can have breakfast, I made omelettes.” She gestures to Jeongguk with the word boyfriend and you wonder if the sleeping boy told your parents that you are dating. That would explain why she called him when she couldn’t reach you last night.

You’re just about to shake him awake when he lets out a chuckle, letting you know he’s already awake. “You heard that, babe? Even your mom thinks I’m your boyfriend.”

“You told her that, didn’t you?” You scoff. “How long have you been awake?”

“A few minutes, maybe. Woke up to you playing with my hair and didn’t want you to stop so I stayed quiet.” He lets out a big yawn before nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck. “And no, I didn’t tell her anything. Maybe she just assumed we were dating because we make out all the time.”

“You’re really gross.” You pull at his hair a bit harshly but instead of groaning in pain, he does so in pleasure. “Oh yeah, baby, get kinky with me.”

“Oh my God, get lost.”

He chuckles again before planting a soft kiss on your neck, the gesture so soft you can’t believe that he just made a dirty joke a few seconds prior.

“So.. we’re dating now, right? I’m your boyfriend and you’re my girlfriend?” He asks quietly.

“I don’t know, you never asked.”

“I did last night!” Jeongguk claims, accosted. “And you said yes, although I doubt you remember because you were pretty out of it after I kissed you senseless for hours.”

“Alright, I remember now. Though I also remember that it’s with the condition that you never entertain the thought of getting a tongue piercing ever again.”

“Can’t you reconsider? It’ll feel amazing on your lips, on your chest, on your—”

“I’m breaking up with you.”

Jeongguk laughs. “Love you, girlfriend.”

(Between grocery trips and boxing sessions, this one might just be your favorite.)

— a/n: thank you for reading! :) tell me your thoughts here

[comfortwriting]

I Hate You - F.W

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompts

Fred Weasley x Fem Reader

Requested/About: Enemies to lovers smut! Fred is constantly getting his classmate into trouble, and Y/N is finding herself spending more of her evenings in detention with him - her hate for him growing. One evening, something out of the ordinary happens between them. 

Warnings: 18+ swearing, mention of blood, smut, fingering, handjob, oral (male receiving), unprotected sex.

"Stop shaking the desk!" you hissed at your transfiguration partner.

Fred smirked and squinted at you "no" he replied, his ego popping out in his voice "if you've got a problem go and sit somewhere else"

You watched Fred waving his wand at the mouse that cowered in front of him, letting out little squeaks each time Fred failed to transform it into a large cotton bud.

How this feud started between the two of you - you couldn't remember - you were past caring. All you know is that Fred hates you, and you hate him, his face pisses you off and your face - your body frustrates him.

He thought about you constantly, almost as if you were invading his mind on purpose just to taunt him - you appeared in his dreams and he couldn't stop it, he couldn't figure out why this was happening - why he would dream of you feeling nothing but hatred, only to wake up with his ejaculate spilling on his bedsheets.

"Don't ask me for any help during potions class, then." You replied, taking out your wand, the mouse suddenly going stiff, then turning round fluffy, losing its legs, ears, facial features, and tail.

Fred scowled at you, poking the cotton bud with the tip of his wand "I wasn't going to" he slouched back in his chair, pulling apart what once was the mouse, grumbling under his breath. "This is kids stuff" he huffed "It's only why you're good at it."

You rolled your eyes and snatched the cotton bud out of his hands, 'Reparo!' putting it back together and transforming the bud back into the innocent, shy, creature that curled up into and started to tremble in your hands.

"Miss Y/L/N, I think your partner can do his own work" Miss McGonagall spoke out, staring down at you whilst walking past your desk "Sit up Mr Weasley!" she hissed at Fred, hurrying to the front of the classroom.  

Fred sighed and sat up grudgingly, "It's alright for you, being a good girl who never makes mistakes, who everyone loves so dearly."

You scoffed and rolled your eyes "you talk so much shit, Fred Weasley!" you huffed "I actually spend my time revising because I actually make mistakes, something I'm sure you've never given the time of day to work on!"

Fred huffed "You sound just like my brother Percy, it's as if he never bloody left!"

Whilst the back and forth continued to unfold between you and Fred, the class was dismissed, everyone leaving - you and Fred didn't notice, too wrapped up in arguing, his brother George and friend Lee stayed behind, watching and enjoying the entertainment.

"Well, you know what!" you raised your voice, picking up your bag and pushing your books inside "sod you! you're on your own next lesson, don't come begging when Snape rips you a new one!" you stood up from your chair and stormed off.

"Nice one Fred" George called out, walking out of the great hall and towards the dungeons "you're going to suffer in there, mate."

Fred pulled a sour face "she's the most obnoxious bitch I've ever met"

Unfortunately for Fred, you were in earshot of his insult "Obnoxious bitch?" you laughed out, catching up to him "lads like you are all the same, threatened by smarter women"

George laughed, bashing Fred in the ribs with his elbow, Fred felt mortified and could feel himself wanting to grab you and shove you against a wall, the thought of doing it however made him feel something he didn't want to admit...

he couldn't

no way

feelings for you? oh please...

Fred rattled his brain, trying hard to shake this intruding feeling out of him, he hates you, love is out of the question, anything intimate is a red flag.

"Well, with what you lack in looks and personality you make up for in IQ, I'm not threatened by you, you're just disgusting to look at and be around. My skiving Snack boxes wouldn't change your appearance you're that bloody ugly." he snapped.

Ugly.

Your heart pained at the word, why? you didn't know, whenever anyone attacked your looks and your body, you didn't care, it meant nothing to you - so why your heart is suddenly hurting did more than baffled you.

Why should you care?

It's not like you're in love with him or anything

You could feel your stomach doing flips, your blood boiling, how dare he!

"it's a shame because your dick will never match the size of your ego, regardless if it's flaccid or hard." You snapped back, pushing past him, bashing into him on purpose, storming towards the dark and dingy dungeons.

Fred went bright red, infuriated that you shamed him in front of his twin, especially for something that he believed determined his value as a man, his blood - like yours, now also boiling.

He wanted to storm after you, grab you by the wrist, pull you into him so you couldn't escape, he wanted to stare down at you whilst demanding an apology, hell, he wanted to show you - show you just how wrong you were.

"Come on now, Freddie" George spoke out, breaking him out of his thoughts "don't let her bother you, all the lasses say shit like that - if you let her get under your skin, she's winning."

she's winning

Fred couldn't and wouldn't allow that to happen, never in a million years - you wouldn't get away with embarrassing him like this, you were in for it, without a clue of what Fred is capable of.

Potions were nothing short of pure hell, you weren't able to switch seats, forced to endure two long hours with Fred who had never looked so angry before, he shot daggers at you, practically seething and speaking through gritted teeth when he needed to look over the ingredients and steps.

"I told you not to bother asking me for help" you snarled, stirring your cauldron, Snape watching the two of you argue in pleasure behind his test papers he should be marking instead.

Fred huffed "Well until you budge over, quit being greedy and let me pick what I need or I'll keep bloody asking!"

You bit your tongue, trying not to swear "Look, you forgot your book, either go and ask Snape if he has a spare or bugger off!"

Fred could feel himself losing his temper, his body temperature increasing, his heart thumping, his fists bunching.

"The two of you will have plenty of time to discuss during detention" Snape spoke, dragging out his words.

You shot Fred an angry look, your eyes widening and your nostrils flaring, Fred looked back at you, shaking his head whilst your Professor walked away, causing the two of you to argue even more.

"Look what you've done now! Thanks a lot!" you raised your voice, stirring your cauldron so angrily, specks of dark amber liquid splashed onto the desk and your skirt, hissing away.

Fred scoffed and stood up, snatching your book away from you, gripping it in his hand "What I've done?" he shook his head "You've caused this!"

"One more word and one detention will become a week's worth," Snape warned.

"Caused what?" You stood up, puffing out your chest "I haven't done anything! You're just an idiot, a dumb idiot who is jealous because I'm going somewhere in life and you aren't because you're fucking stupid!" You yelled, the whole room becoming silent.

Fred stared at you, his heart hurting, he wanted to cry.

idiot, dumb, fucking stupid, going nowhere in life.

"You're a fucking bitch, who everyone laughs at, who everyone thinks is a loser!" He yelled back.

These two weeks of detention would change everything and the two of you had no idea.

Arriving early in the Hospital Wing which surprisingly had empty beds that had been stripped from their bedding, Madame Pomfrey waved you over to her, a forced smile spreading across her face.

"You're rather early"

"I know" you sighed "It's to make up for Fred being late" you grumbled, the thought of hours with him this evening making your head pound.

"Well," Madam Pomfrey wandered around the hospital wings, laying out dirty bedsheets, pillowcases, pyjamas, empty dishes, and medicine bottles "the two of you - when he arrives - will be cleaning everything, without magic" she emphasised that last part, "I thought I'd be rather easy on you this time, you won't be scrubbing any bedpans this week."

You nodded, realising that she wouldn't be sticking around to watch you or Fred, you walked up to the long table and popped on the large purple rubber gloves, sitting down on the stool, waiting for your nightmare to turn up.

"You can only start when he arrives" Madame Pomfrey reminded you "Whatever you can't finish, you'll do tomorrow, and if there are any patients, you'll have extra work." She walked out of the hospital wing, leaving you behind, the waiting game beginning.

Two hours passed by, two long and dreadfully boring hours, you stared at Fred's matching purple gloves, itching to just get started and clean up; but you couldn't.

Instead, you filled the large bucket with laundry detergent, there was no point in adding any hot water, it would be left to cool anyway if Fred didn't show up soon.

Fred waltzed in, laughing and waving goodbye to his twin, shutting the door behind him. His face dropped when he met your eyes, he noticed your gloves and smirked, laughing lightly "you look ridiculous."

"I don't care what you think," you snapped "You're two hours late, everything just piles up you know, it doesn't just go away."

Fred pulled out the wand from his pocket "Oh come off it, love."

Love?!

Fred fell quiet, he felt embarrassed, mortified, and you stared at him confused, horrified even, your eyebrows knitted together. You brushed his mistake aside, knowing that pulling him up about it would just strengthen the argument.

"We can't use magic." You pointed to the line of buckets, sponges, scrubbers, mop, and broom "Everything has to be done by hand, the muggle way."

Fred's face fell, even more, something you thought wasn't possible, you picked up his matching purple rubber gloves and threw them at him "put them on."

Fred wanted to argue, but he couldn't, he didn't know what to say - the feelings inside of him confusing him, making him question everything, he felt sick, he could feel a strange fluttering inside of his stomach, something he only felt when he was in love.

Why was he feeling this now? How was he such a thing... love for you? He hates you.

Fred caught the rubber gloves and put them on, not saying a word. You filled up the empty buckets with warm water, the cleaning liquid making the water foam up with bubbles.

"You sweep" you passed him the boom "I'll mop after you've done, we'll take turns washing the bedding, pyjamas, dishes and bottles."

Fred's hate for you suddenly went through another wave, the fire igniting in his belly, he snatched the broom from you. "Just shut up and let's get on with it." He snapped, starting to sweep the dusty, grimey floor.

You walked away from him and sat down, huffing so the hair in your face moved away over your head, you placed the bucket on your lap, grabbed the pyjama shirt and laundry stain remover soap and started to scrub, focusing hard on the fresh spots of blood.

"I wasn't the one who turned up two hours late," you muttered under your breath, scrubbing the shirt harder, the red liquid slowly getting lighter.

Fred had swept the majority of the floor, he looked over at you, stopped sweeping and glared.

"Shut up," he grumbled

You grinned, the sight of him in purple gloves making you burst out into laughter.

"You look ridiculous" you laughed, dunking the pyjama shirt into the warm water, the stain finally lifting and ready to dry.

Fred dropped the broom, its long wooden handle clanked against the floor, you looked up at him as he stormed over to you, pulling off his gloves and throwing them across the room.

The way he walked with the expression on his face made you flutter, your crotch heating up and getting excited as he inched closer and closer to you, his hands now gripping on the table. You sighed and placed the bucket on the table, squeezing the water out of the pyjama top and handing it up to dry, Fred still staring at you.

You turned around, looking into his gorgeous brown eyes, sighing and pulling off your rubber gloves, setting them down on the table.

"What?"

"Don't what me."

"Well stop staring!"

Fred pushed the buckets of water off the table angrily, the water splashing as the buckets collided with the swept floor, the foamy and suddy water spilling everywhere.

"What was that for!" you yelled.

Fred reached out for you over the table and pulled you into him, he couldn't take it anymore, he couldn't ignore these feelings, his feelings, his wants, his needs, he couldn't deny himself of you anymore. When his lips crashed against yours, something that you couldn't describe clicked, like the missing piece to a puzzle, and you kissed back.

The kiss was hungry, passionate, lustful, and the two of you just wanted to fuck.

Your hands got lost in his hair, pulling at it as Fred gripped onto your waist, both of you now mounting the table, the dishes, bottles, bedding, and pyjamas fell on the floor, absorbing the water.

Moaning against his lips, Fred's hands pulled at your top, you moved your hands away from his hair and lifted your arms up, your top being pulled up before falling to the floor, being soaked by the water. The sight of you in your bra made Fred's face heat up and go red, he quickly unfastened your bra, unable to control himself.

He took your breast into his mouth, sucking your nipple, you lolled your head back and moaned, one of your hands held his gentle face as he sucked, the other fell down to his trousers, slowly undoing the buttons and pulling down his zipper. Your hand sneaked underneath the waistband of his boxers and you took hold of his erect length - you were wrong - his cock was as big as his ego, and you knew when you were able to look at it, it would be even bigger.

Fred's free hand dived under your skirt and went into your underwear, whilst wanking him off his index circled around your entrance hole - you were so wet, the thought of being this close to him usually repulsed you - but right now, you wanted nothing more than him inside of you, fucking you as much as he hated you.

His index finger slowly pushed inside of you, you moaned out and tugged on his cock harder, he started to finger you faster, knowing part of him was inside you made you so wet, and got you so excited. Fred added his middle finger, now pumping them faster as your walls tightened around his fingers, he pulled off your red and saliva coated nipple and attacked your neck with kisses, then sucking, leaving his marks all over you.

Fred pushed you down on your back so your body was now pressed against the cool table, he continued to finger fuck you, you pulled down his trousers and boxers with both hands, already missing the feeling of his throbbing cock filling one of them. You glanced down - you were definitely wrong - his length was large, definitely outshining his ego.

"You wanted me to shut up, didn't you?" you asked Fred, he pulled away from sucking on your neck, a confused expression formed on his face.

"Is that what you want?" he smirked, catching on "you want me to shut you up with my cock?" he withdrew his fingers, now coated with your juices, sucking them clean.

Fred leaned back, taking his cock in his hand "go on then" he encouraged you "suck my cock."

"Make me."

Fred grabbed you by the hair - but not roughly or too hard - you were actually quite surprised by his gentleness. You were on your knees now, sucking Fred's large length, choking on it as you went down deeper and deeper, taking more of him in your mouth.

Fred loved the sight of you sucking him off, the sight of your mouth being so full you couldn't say something stupid, the sound of you choking made him happy, he was finally shutting you up - but part of him didn't want to shut you up, he wanted to listen to you speaking about your interests, your hobbies, what you thought of Hogsmeade and Zonko's Joke Shop.

This part of him pulled you off him, you caught your breath and wiped away the laces of saliva that were hanging from your mouth, swinging as you moved back with the back of your hand. Fred pulled you into a kiss, this time it wasn't lustful, it was gentle, caring, soft - it made your heart skip a beat and it made you weak at the knees.

Once more, your back was against the table, Fred pulled down your skirt and knickers whilst still kissing you, your hands back in his hair, massaging his scalp, Fred propped your legs around his hips, you pulled him closer to you.

Fred grabbed out a condom, but you stopped him.

"Don't bother with that crap" you sighed, wanting him inside you already "I'm on the pill."

Fred nodded, confident that this would be enough, and he applied lube onto his length.

You wondered why he had brought condoms and a sache of lube, Fred didn't know why - he never usually carried these items, but after weeks of the same dreams that he couldn't explain - that small part of him kept telling him, over and over to bring it.

Fred looked into your eyes, searching for your permission, you nodded your head.

"I'm ready, Freddie." you breathed.

Freddie.

He had never expected you - of all people - to call him that, but he liked it, and he hoped that he could hear it again.

Fred rubbed his erect length against your folds teasingly, and then slowly pushed himself inside of you, the two of you moaned and exhaled - he felt amazing - stretching you out, and your walls felt amazing - tightening around him. He started to fuck you faster, his large length plunging deeper inside of you as he bucked his hips, your legs tightened around him, as did your walls, your hands now resting on his back, your fingernails digging into him leaving marks of your own.

His moans were beautiful - perhaps the most beautiful thing you had ever heard. How could you hate him? How could you be so mean to him, insult him, mock him and shame him, he was perfect, everything about him - your heart now reaching out to his - how could you be so wrong?

You didn't hate him, you were madly in love with him.

Fred couldn't take his eyes off you and your body - the perfect shape and size of your breasts, your tummy, the feeling of your insides engulfing him in warmth, your gorgeous eyes staring into his, the feeling of your fingers tips gliding over his back, then your fingernails scratching him.

Fred felt stupid, he felt awful for what he said to you - the way he treated you - calling you ugly - you were far from such a thing. This moment felt better and meant more than any dream he ever had - this was real, this was the moment he had been waiting for - his heart finally finding yours.

"Fuck!" you moaned out, reaching the edge "Please don't stop, fuck me, I want to cum!" you wailed.

Fred couldn't stop, he didn't want to, even if he was getting tired and over working himself.

He continued to fuck you, feeling himself getting close, you lolled your head back, your eyes rolling in the back of your head and released - your cum spilling onto his length, your moans filling the hospital wing. Your orgasm face pushed Fred over the edge, he spilt himself inside you and collapsed, holding you in his arms.

The two of you said nothing, you were trying to make sense of this all, and you were in trouble - after tonight, you would have a lot of explaining to do - not just to one another, but to Madame Pomfrey who would be back in half an hour.

After coming to, Fred pulled out his wand and dried your clothes, so toastie to put back on. You started to mop the floor as Fred speedily washed the pillow cases and bed sheets, hanging them up to dry, then starting on the dishes. With the floor sparkling clean, you joined him, cleaning and rinsing the bottles.

"You're not an idiot" You spoke out, breaking the awkward silence "You're not dumb either, and I don't doubt that you're going to go far in life."

This meant a lot to Fred, it made him feel secure.

"You're not ugly" Fred replied, scrubbing another bowl "You're not an obnoxious bitch."

Looking up at Fred, into his deep brown eyes, your pursed your lips for a moment.

"I don't hate you."

"I don't either."

"I don't want to hate you, I-"

"I feel things for you too, Y/N."

Madame Pomfrey burst through the door, staring at the rows of dirty bowls and bottles that needed cleaning.

"Looks like you two will be back here tomorrow!"

You and Fred shared a glance, smiling, with a flush of pink across your cheeks.

These two weeks were the start of something special.

Taglist: @amourtentiaa @alwaysnforeverfangirl @reeophidian @inglourious-imagines @horrorxweasley @sebby-staan @onlyfreds @lucymfer @escapingrealitybyreading @freddiemylovelg @pandaxnienke @xmalfoyweasleyx

[overthefroggymoon]

Not in the Cards - Pikelan one-shot

Summary: He needs to give up on this whole love thing. It's never going to actually pan out for him.

Words: 1,236

Read on ao3!

Maybe if i think about it enough you’ll appear he thought If I close my eyes tight, squeeze my fists, and hold my breath for a full minute, I’ll open my eyes and before me you will stand. With my eyes closed, colours can dance before the black of my lids as I create the picture of you, more solid than I have ever seen it before;

5 foot tall, frizzy but styled hair that's been dyed auburn, and arms filled with tattoos. Your warm brown skin covered by a skimpy bathing suit, with a flowing deep red sundress over top. Heavy eyelids that look to me with adoration fueled purely by your own confidence.

His cheeks were heating up the more he thought of this manifestation, from both the tension in his face after holding his breath and squeezing his eyes for a whole twenty seconds, and from a slightly different tension, in a slightly more southern region of his body.

Please he thought I need this

Behind his eyes, the figure stood, elusive and silent, his innate musicality failing him in the moment he longed for it the most. The voice, he considered, the voice should be light and-no wait, deep. Yeah, a deep and seductive voice with maybe hints of a Nicodranas accent in there.

As the seconds wore on, the image only became more vivid, and his entire body soon joined his face in the burgeoning tension that was threatening to never leave him again.

He couldn’t help the grin that grew large on his face when her image crystalised in his mind. With his eyes closed, he could almost imagine she was in fact standing right before him, ready for him. Waiting just for him.

If it weren’t for the fact his constitution had always been rather low he may not have noticed the seconds as they slowly ticked by. He may have been able to stay behind his eyes with the love of his life. He had just found her, after all. Did he not deserve a few moments more with her?

A dull pain that had begun in his lungs began to solidify and his mind was on the verge of a panic, but he held out longer than he probably should have just to stay with her a moment longer.

And he was so glad he did when she finally spoke.

In that deep voice he had bestowed upon her, with an added quality he could only describe as pure heaven, she said “Don’t worry, love. Just open your eyes. I’ll be there”

Unsure but uncaring of whether this was a hallucination from lack of oxygen, or some kind of actual magic, he grinned widely, took a quick last look and opened his eyes, expectantly.

With a smile plastered on his red face, and his eyes wide with excitement, from his spot on the edge of his bed he took in the scene in front of him.

Where he had expected his love to be was filled instead with a messy pile of dirty laundry he’d forgotten to do yesterday. Whipping his head around in confusion, he found a wall full of various photographs and cheap magazine posters the only thing before him.

His eyebrows furrowed. She had told him - she had said -

He took a swig from the near empty bottle of whiskey grasped in his right hand, reality setting in.

She had lied. She wasn’t here. She may never be here.

And why should she, he supposed. He was a guarded and oftentimes cruel man who was currently flunking almost all of his college classes in favour of playing unpaid gigs at the dingiest spots in town.

Like any other 23 year old, he lay back on his stained and unruly bedsheets and began to come to terms with the fact he would be alone forever. No one would ever love him, or understand him, as much as she had. As much as the taller gentleman he had pictured a month ago would. As much as the throng of imagined loves he had pictured over the last decade would.

Accepting his unavoidable eternal loneliness, he lay his left arm over his eyes, and downed the rest of the bottle. Well tried to, about 80% of the way through his chug a knock came at his door and startled him so much he began sputtering and coughing his way back into a sitting position, with the remaining 20% of the bottle now covering the distressed tee he wore on his chest.

Just at that moment, his roommate, a pale bald man with a body that would make The Rock weep, barreled in through the door, “Scanlan! Fuck’s sake, man. I thought you were doing that auto-ass- auto-assnati - auto….the strangling thing, or something”.

Honestly, that might be a less embarrassing thing for Grog to have walked in on than what was actually playing out in this dingy, dark and depressing excuse for a bedroom.

He could only imagine what his friend saw; a drunken mess of a man, vacantly looking back at him with bleary eyes. Oh, and hacking up his lungs.

“One time big guy. I did it once. Never again” He managed to get out between coughs, with each one only moving the whisky to a more uncomfortable spot in his trachea.

The larger man stood eyeing him suspiciously for a moment before he spoke again, “Were you uh, thinking about them again?”

“No” Scanlan answered too quickly, “I was not thinking of anyone. I was just….drinking” He had learned early on that lies were always better when you added at least a hint of truth to them.

Grog just stood in the doorway, big enough to block out the view from outside the room, and shuffled awkwardly in spot, “Sure, sure. Anyway. My sister’s here”

At that, Scanlan's eyes grew wide once again and he couldn’t help but facepalm at his own forgetfulness and stupidity, “Shit, yes. Sister. Right. Sorry. Let me…let me just change my shirt and I’ll come say hi” he ended with a smile.

That seemingly satisfied Grog, as he promptly turned and closed the door behind him. Still coughing lightly, Scanlan immediately ripped off the soaked tee from over his head and made his way to the dresser, stumbling through more piles of mess than he liked to acknowledge.

He pulled out an old shirt he’d had for a few years now, ensuring it had no holes before putting it on.

Making his way to the bedroom door, he took a moment to compose himself. As he stood, taking a few deep breaths, he caught his own eye in the mirror hanging on the wall beside his door. Gazing at himself, he immediately noticed his brown eyes were now drowning in a sea of red, and his usually bright tanned skin had somehow become an almost sickly white. Almost as pale as Grog, he thought. Soaking in his ghastly appearance, he decided he badly needed a pep talk, “Okay, fucker. New rule. No more romanticising, idealising, daydreaming, or making up people in your head. Love. Isn’t. In. The. Cards. Stop forcing it”

With another breath, he straightened himself, put on his best attempt at looking sober, and opened the door, ready to make a good first impression to his best friend's sister.

And immediately broke his new rule.

[oftenderweapons]

The Early Bird – Jungkook

Pairing: Jungkook x reader (nicknamed Candy)

Wordcount: 2.3k 

Genre: smut, pretty much pwp, drabble, established relationship

Rating: 18+

Hello hummingbirds! I just came in quickly to type in this very very brief Jungkook smutty drabble because after today’s pics well... Me and my mates (shoutout to @nervous-moon) were a bit all over the place. Not much plot. Just filth. 

TRIGGER WARNINGS: very smutty Jk. Filthy as hell. Lots of swearing. Dirty talking. Slight corruption kink. Post-workout testosterone galore. Degradation kink; dommy JK, very patronising. Lots of switching positions. Multiple orgasms. Unprotected sex (get tested before going bare with your partner. Pretty please). Very lowkey spanking. Lots of tattoo kinks. He touches between her legs without her consent (Candy is sleeping), but she *does* give him consent as soon as she wakes up. I understand some people could be triggered by this and I am sorry if this makes you uncomfortable. 

In case you need it, here is my masterlist. 

Enjoy💜✨

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Jeongguk exited his home gym and headed for the kitchen to grab a fresh bottle of water. Uncapping it quickly, he took a large mouthful, draining the bottle with a series of loud gulps. 

His early morning work out routine had several perks: the great peace of mind which helped him start a new day, the sense of focus that made his nerve endings jolt to life before he started his daily routine, and the pleasing idea of hitting the shower detoxifyed, after sweating sleep and the remnants of the previous day off himself.

It felt right to start the day with exercise. 

It felt a bit less right to wake up an hour earlier and abandon you in his bed, warm and cosy and so soft, smelling of his fabric softener and that sweet lotion that he liked so much. 

He took off his shirt on the way to the bedroom, dropping it off in the basket in the laundry room. Shirtless and sweaty, he reached the bedroom door, his mind already going places as his hand rubbed at his abs, climbing up to his chest. 

There you were, innocent in your sleeping form, curled up in a ball in the middle of the bed, the white sheets exposing your legs and your chest. 

You looked so pretty. So small. So pure and unprotected. You looked like a delicate lamb, napping in a soft cloud of perfect peacefulness. It looked like even in your sleep you were offering yourself to him. 

He felt ravenous. Predatorial.

He undressed quickly, feeling only slightly guilty as he stroked himself a couple times, his hand meeting his shaft already half hard, blood pressure spiking as he felt his own hand on his flesh. 

But it wouldn’t do. Because nothing could compare to the velvet of your cunt, the sweet, sticky wetness of your arousal coating your folds, like honey waiting to be tasted, licked, violated. You were there, laying gently, and he was at the feet of the bed, ready to pounce on you, already imagining the sweet little coos you would emit while waking up, his cock spearing you, your mouth parting in an ‘o’ as realisation hit you. 

Slowly and clumsily he climbed on the bed, crawling towards you on three limbs as one hand was still busy on his length. 

He hovered above you, bending at his elbow to lean his head against your breast, kissing any part of your chest that was uncovered by your arm, curled up against your front. 

Looking at your face, he gently moved his hand away from his sex, sliding it under the covers and brushing it against the curve of your bottom, sliding his middle finger between your folds, moaning at the wetness. 

“Sweetie.” He whispered against your ear. “Wake up, Candy.” He murmured with a soft voice. “I need my sweet girl.” He teased, his finger searching for your clit. 

Your body finally reacted, your eyelids fluttering open. “Gguk.” You whined, still sleepy. 

“Hello, sweet thing.” He said, smiling happily. 

You took in his damp hair, his lack of a shirt. “You back from the gym?” You asked, frowning as you yawned. 

“Yes, Candy.” He cooed, nuzzling his hair against your bosom as soon as you offered your chest to him.

“And why is your hand between my legs?” 

“Because I need my sweet girlfriend’s sweet pussy.” He growled, his mouth outright filthy in a way that normally wasn’t unless he felt like totally wrecking you.  

Grabbing his wrist, you removed his hand, turning on your back and trying to wrap your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck. “Just use me.” You murmured, closing your eyes and kissing his bicep flexed beside our head, your mouth landing distractedly on one of his tattoos. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll think about it for you, baby.” With one arm he held his weight off you, while with the other, he untangled the bedsheets from your form, tugging them off and exposing your body in all of its perfect nakedness. Next his arm slithered under your back, lifting you off the mattress and helping you up as he rose on his knees, kneeling on the bed. 

Slowly, he made his way to the edge of the mattress, placing his ass down and unfolding his legs, letting his feet rest against the floor. He had seen this position on a video while he was away on tour but somehow it had slipped away, coming back to him earlier as he lifted some weights in the gym. 

You simpy laid your head on the crook of his neck, kissing his skin and enjoying the salty feel of his sweat on your lips. Your legs loosened around his waist as he settled in this new position. 

“I need you to listen carefully, Candy.” He growled at your ear. “I’m gonna do you rough, baby, but I know you’ve just woken up.”

You nodded distractedly beneath his ear, snuggling him. 

“I’ll be careful first, but next I need you to hold tight.” He kissed your temple and caressed your spine. “I’ll take care of you.” He promised. “I’ll take care of everything.” He murmured against your ear. “I need to slide in, ____.” He explained, gripping his shaft and rubbing it against your folds. 

“Do it.” You said sleepily, whimpering as he pushed the tip in, groaning.

“Feels good?” He asked, giving a delicate thrust in, his other hand against the small of your back, pushing you towards him as he slid in. 

“Very.” You murmured, letting your open mouth rest against his neck, your tongue slipping out and curling against his skin, tasting his sweat, searching for the little mole that always drove him crazy under the tip of your tongue. He was addictive.

“It was made for you, Candy.” He groaned with a chuckle. “It was made to make you whimper and moan like a little slut.” He sank deep into you, bottoming out. 

You simply exhaled at his neck. If he was already degrading you in that cocky, teasing way of his, then he was really needy. Good thing you were craving him too. 

His arms snaked under your legs, the crook of his elbows slotting against the bend of your knees while his hands settled on the small of your back, holding you as his biceps flexed and lifted you, making you slide off his cock. 

“Oh god.” You murmured at his neck, biting his skin to keep yourself from being too loud. 

“That good?” He asked. “Wait till I slam you down again.” He said, growling, his voice strained as he slowly, made you twirl on him, only the tip inside, rubbing against the tight rim of muscles at your entrance before he let you slide on him again, your hands finding the long locks of his hair at his nape and tugging them desperately as he reached the bottom of your cunt, flexing his strong thighs and glutes to give a few small thrusts before lifting you up again, this time keeping you midair as he bent his head, licking the shell of your ear. 

“You’re being too quiet. Need it faster? Harder?” He slid you down gently, using his hands to press your hips forward, against his, until he could feel every square inch of your inner muscles fighting between swallowing him in and pushing him out. “Did you get used to hard and fast?” He asked, sliding you up slowly again and grunting in effort as he bit your earlobe. “Or maybe you need me to fuck you like my bitch.” He slammed you down. Hard. 

You let your mouth hang open in a loud cry, your lungs empty. 

“That way, uh? Dirty pretty whore you are. Just for me.” He cried out, angling your body away from his, your head lifting from his shoulder and trying to stay upright as you looked into his dark pupils, your stare a bit lost and vacant as he started lifting you up and down like you weighted nothing, looking at you as your eyes crossed, mouth open, a series of short gasps making your lips part in smaller or larger ‘o’s. 

He was beautiful, almost painfully so. His brow was furrowed, his lower lip tucked between his teeth before it slid out, his jaw dropping as you squeezed his with your kegels and started helping him, riding his cock with small thrusts of your pelvis, as far as his arms allowed you in that caged position. “Need to ride my cock?” He asked with an arrogant smirk, his eyes rolling closed as you squeezed him particularly tight. 

“Yes.” You replied simply. 

“But I need to see your silly face as I fuck you stupid, just like this.” He objected, slowing down for a few thrusts, focusing on hitting your sweet spot. The spongy head of his cock rubbed against your G-spot repeatedly, making you call his name, stuttering it a couple times as your breath caught in your throat. “Like that.” You called, unwrapping an arm from his neck and bringing it between your legs, trying desperately to conjure your first high. 

“Come on. Give me that cockhungry little pout. Let me see your filthy mouth open wide for me.” He said, leaning down to suck your nipple into his mouth, pumping it a couple times with the tight sucking of his cheeks before releasing it. “I want your gorgeous tits blushing while you cum on my cock.” He growled against your other breast, taking the other nipple in his mouth before he started sliding you up and down his length like you were nothing but a fleshlight, using you for his pleasure. 

“Gguk. I—” Next, an inarticulate ramble left your lips, your body arching away from him with the perfect angle that trapped your clit between your expert fingers and the divine fullness of Jeongguk’s cock rubbing the inner nerve endings from inside. 

Your body didn’t stop shaking even as he started leaning down, his arms unhooking from below your legs and simply coming up to place his hands on your waist. 

“I’m not done with you, my sweet fuckdoll.” He looked you in the eye as his tattoed hand slapped your ass with a dry cracking sound. “Your velvet cunt hasn’t taken my cum yet.” And just like that, he started helping you ride him, the only thing saving you from overstimulation the lack of attention on your clit. 

“Gguk. Please.” You begged, not even sure for what. 

“What is it,” he grunted, both his hands grabbing your ass and helping it up before his palms slid up to your sides, grabbing you and slamming you down. 

“Need you on top.” You whined, trying to sweeten him. 

He smirked. “Lazy pillow princess, ain’t you?” He slapped your ass again, the stinging feeling making your lips part and your eyes water slightly. 

It felt all too good. “You do it better than me.” You praised him, definitely knowing how to get what you want. 

He nodded, eyebrows lifting. “I do.” He said, holding your front close to his chest and making you roll on your back, his body inviting you to slide forward, toward the middle of the bed, so that his legs could find purchase on the mattress and he could hammer into you just the way you like it. 

Once his body was perched on top of you, he helped one of your legs over his shoulder. “Hold on tight, love.” He teased before he slammed into you in one violent stroke. 

Your eyes shot open, a helpless cry tearing your lips open as you looked at him, tears rimming your eyelids. 

“Oh, what’s that?” He asked with a bastard’s grin on his face. “Is it so good that I’m gonna make you cry?” He slid out slowly, all the way to the tip, before his cock split you open again. “Go on and cry for it.” He sneered, his whole body getting lost into a hard and fast hammering inside you. 

“Gguk, dammit, please. I wanna cum.” You cried out, your hand sliding between your legs. 

He slowed down only to slap away your filthy fingers. “Gonna cum for this cock alone.” He said, angling his hips perfectly in that way that always drove you crazy. “Like the good slut you are for me.” He bent forward to your chest, biting the upper curve of your breast. “Make me feel your velvet cunt milk me dry.” He groaned, desperate. “I know you can do it, ____. You’re my little cockfairy.” He teased, so lost in the tightness and warmth of you that his tongue got that loose and reckless. 

You simply started meeting his thrusts, your brow furrowing, while you looked at the muscles of his shoulders flex, his biceps tightening and relaxing with the effort, and the beatiful ink covering his upper arm, so alive with the movements. 

He moved your other leg over his shoulder, sinking so deep inside you that your body snapped before you could even understand the fullness you were experimenting. 

Your ears filled with a shrill screech, his face going from a series of tight lines — creased forehead, scrunched nose and wrinkled eyes — to relaxed planes, with his mouth opened wide, his lips so soft and temptingly red, his eyelids slowly fluttering close. 

“Your pussy is a whole damn miracle.” He muttered against your soft breasts pillowing his head. “I wanna die inside it and go to pussy heaven.”

You tried to laugh as gently as possible while he rested on top of you, his cock still burrowed deep inside you. “I love you, silly bun.” You said, still a bit breathless.

“I’m sorry for the nasty words. You know I love you too.” He said, mouthing at your soft curves and sucking a bruise there. 

“Cockfairy, uh?” You said, teasingly. 

He giggled. “Shut up.” 

“Never.” You replied. combing his hair out of his face. 

He lifted his head with a raised eyebrow. “Then maybe I should feed you my cock and shut you up.”

Round two? Already? You were feeling spoiled. “Maybe you should.”

He grinned and slid out of you, slowly climbing up your body. “Open up, pretty doll.”    

[tanoraqui]

There actually are enough good fics about postcanon tentative reforging of assorted pairs and even the whole of the Gusu Summer School No Brain Cell Trio to satisfy my niche itch, so pls enjoy these stray snippets of a fic I don't have to write:

Nothing would've happened if the cultivation conference wasn't at Cloud Recesses. But it was, Cloud Recesses with its pale stone and gracefully winding walkways and too many memories, including Lan Xichen sitting the whole thing out in seclusion somewhere... If it'd been at the Unclean Realm, Nie Huaisang would've been busy and if it'd been at Carp Tower the memories only would've been manageably bad, and if it was Lotus Pier or one of many smaller sects, it would've been...fine. Just fine.

But it was Cloud Recesses this year, this first conference since Jin Guangyao's downfall, and specifically it was half past ten at night, and Nie Huaisang was wandering the elegant pathways with a mostly full jar of wine in one hand. The previous jar, now entirely empty, had been left back in his room. He was a Nie, so he was only half as drunk as he'd always used to pretend at these things - but at least twice as drunk as he'd ever actually been.

After da-ge's death, of course. Before that, he used to get plenty drunk. Playfully drunk. With friends.

It would be a terrible idea for him to go appear on Lan Xichen's doorstep. Neither of them was ready for that yet.

So he appeared on Jiang Cheng's.

[ . . . ]

"Fine." Nie Huaisang pouted and turned. "I'll go ask Wei-xiong - "

And Jiang Cheng was easy, he was so easy, he'd always been easy, the only new thing is the faintest edge of wariness to his fury -

He grabbed Nie Huaisang's elbow in a flash and snapped, "Ugh, fine, I'll go - but I'm holding the wine."

Nie Huaisang laughed and handed it over. Jiang Cheng immediately took a deep swig.

[ . . . ]

It must've been a quiet night at the Jingshi. Wei Wuxian's sleeping robes didn't look the least bit hastily pulled on, and his lips were only the slightest bit red and puffy.

[ . . . ]

[for the record, this takes place in a book-show postcanon fusion wherein immediately post-Guanyin Temple, WWX and LWJ ran off to fuck in the bushes at least once a day for as long as possible, but in their absence, various sect leaders voted that Lan Wangji should be Chief Cultivator now, and alas some messenger caught up with them about six months into their honeymoon. Definitely caught them in flagrante delicto. Tragic for all. I’d probably communicate all this hereish somehow. It was definitely NHS who finally tipped someone off on how to actually find them.]

[ . . . ]

"Yes, yes, I'm coming," Wei Wuxian said, with a lidded look at Nie Huaisang, and Nie Huaisang burst into a giggles because the two most unequivocally lethal people he knew were afraid to leave each other alone with him, and it was satisfying to be recognized but also what's he going to do, personally? Cry at them? It'd taken him years to destroy Jin Guangyao, and at this point it'd take him months, if not years again to re-destroy the Yiling Patriarch, much less Sandu Shengshou. Especially when they both kept doing things like watching each others backs while pretending they weren't.

[ . . . ]

"Of course we need more!" Wei Wuxian declared. "This isn't even Emperor's Smile!"

[ . . . ]

"It's just a rat or something," Jiang Cheng scoffed.

"So?!" Wei Wuxian cried grandly. "Are we not noble cultivators? Is it not our duty to investigate this woman's complaint, and to slay whatever monster plagues her good inn’s wonderful cellar, whether deathly or monstrous or rodential it be?" He turned to Nie Huaisang and begged, "Help me out, Nie-xiong. You agree with me, right?"

Nie Huaisang clutched his cup against his chest, eyes wide, and shook his head in sharp jerks. "I don't know! I don't know!"

Wei Wuxian laughed and elbowed him in the side.

[ . . . ]

[while waiting for Wei Wuxian to send some sort of signal]

"You know I don't bear any grudge against Jin Ling, right?"

Jiang Cheng's impatient glare snapped to him, darkening with threat; his hand shifted on Sandu's hilt toward a drawing position. "What?"

"I don't bear any sort of grudge against Jin Ling," Nie Huaisang repeated, holding only the last jar of Emperor's Smile. "That's why you've been side-eyeing me all night, right? All conference." He took another sip (it really was the best!) and added recklessly, "If I wanted Jin Ling dead and disgraced, or all Carp Tower burned to ash, they already would be."

Sandu slid an inch out of its scabbard and Nie Huaisang watch it with fascinated curiosity. From a greater distance, he wondered if that was entirely healthy.

"What about Lotus Pier?" Jiang Cheng asked abruptly.

It took Nie Huaisang a blinking moment to focus on him.

"What about Lotus Pier?"

Jiang Cheng sat beside him on the cold earth and yanked the jar out of his hands, cruelly before Nie Huaisang could take another sip.

"Where's your grand terrible vengeance against me and mine? I get it, but if you're being honest for once right now, you could at least tell me when it's going to hit, and how."

"What?" Nie Huaisang pushed himself against his tree trunk, genuinely confused. "Why would i have a terrible vengeance planned against you?"

"I benefitted from Nie Mingjue's death, didn't I?" Jiang Cheng took another swig of wine of his own, and swung the jar illustratively. "My disciples have hunted in your territory while you 'weren't paying attention.' I absolutely fleeced you in that trade deal four years ago. And I worked with that bastard as much as anyone but Lan Xichen, especially on those damn watchtowers, and you broke him. So when's it my turn?" He pointed at Nie Huaisang, finger only wavering slightly. “If you fuck with Jin Ling, Wei Wuxian, or my sect, I will fuck you back.”

"You- oh, gimme that. Gimme. Gimme!" Nie Huaisang leaned forward and tried to grab the wine jar, and more importantly whined until Jiang Cheng handed it to him.

He stared at it for a moment, thrust it back and ordered, “Drink,” without letting it go, and once Jiang Cheng had dutifully tilted it back, pulled it back and slugged down the last swallows. He needed more alcohol for this much honesty, and so did Jiang Cheng.

He set the jar down very carefully, because the ground seemed to be moving, and leaned forward with even more care. He enunciated clearly, “Everyone fleeced me, and hunted in my territory, and I acsh- ass- let them. Why would I expect you to go looking for trouble with Jin Guangyao, when he had your heart locked in a box in his treasure room?”

Jiang Cheng, who was a respected master of all five arts but probably hadn’t actually read poetry for fun since an instructor had officially declared him as such, and who was himself at least a full wine jar in, squinted in angry confusion.

Nie Huaisang rolled his eyes. “He had final say over where and how Jin Ling spent his time, and could’ve tried to poison him against you. What would you have even have done if I had come complaining?”

Jiang Cheng’s face only fell further, with the very sort of drunken moroseness Nie Huaisang was out here to avoid.

Nie Huaisang attempted to swap him sharply. He failed on both the swap and the sharpness. 

“Stoppit! Stop thinking you’re not useful! You weren’t! I needed to pry er-ge away from him and for that only Lan Wangji would work, and I needed someone to watch his back through thick and deadly thin, and to be so disruptive that even Meng Yao couldn’t...circle, sneaky, planning...”

They were waiting for the pulse of a light talisman from the other tunnel entrance, half a mile away. There was a small but very bright explosion. laced with resentful as well as spiritual energy.

“Motherfucker!” Jiang Cheng cursed, leaping to his feet and drawing Sandu in one hideously coordinated motion. 

“Just Lan Wangji, I think,” Nie Huaisang said, because Nie Mingjue himself couldn’t have stopped him. He groped for his own weapons - fan, check; wine jar - 

“Oh no!” 

“What?”  Jiang Cheng snapped, as he bent and dragged Nie Huaisang to his feet with one hand. (Hideously coordinated. Sword people, honestly...)

“He’s going to be so mad that we finished the wine without him!”

[ . . . ]

[three grown-ass men, two sect leaders and one Yiling Patriarch, flying at high speed through Caiyi Town on one sword, all screaming. Nie Huaisang is clinging to Wei Wuxian; Wei Wuxian is flinging to Jiang Cheng, a little bit to Nie Huaisang, and most importantly to a chicken, Jiang Cheng is flying the sword. There is a bedsheet draped over all of them from where they ran into a laundry line. It’s 2am. Again I say, all are screaming]

[ . . . ]

[it probably wasn’t a rat - not just one, at least. Wei Wuxian does something incredibly clever, possibly including a creative use of that bedsheet; Jiang Cheng singlehandedly defeats something in combat, probably after he and Wei Wuxian shove each other out of the way of blows without either of them acknowledging it. Nie Huaisang shoves them both under cover and then with perfect professionalism tells whoever came to check on the ruckus that they handled the problem exactly as planned with absolutely no involvement of alcohol, and the Chief Cultivator will foot the bill for the unfortunately absolutely necessary property damage. Overall, they did handle the problem, but the local cryptid they were chasing will only have its reputation swelled and its continued existence assumed by all locals. it is possible that they themselves made this cryptid up two decades ago, but idk how heavy-handed we want to be.]

[ . . . ]

Nie Huaisang was leaning heavily on Wei Wuxian by the time they got back to the guest quarters. He could hold his alcohol, he was a goddamn Nie, and frankly he’d had it adrenalined out of him at least twice this evening. But he’d also had rather a lot, and he didn’t have Jiang Cheng’s golden core or Wei Wuxian’s blithe lack of sleep schedule. 

“I missed this,” he admitted, head on Wei Wuxian’s (Mo Xuanyu’s) shoulder while Jiang Cheng opened the door.

Wei Wuxian leaned his head on Nie Huaisang’s. “Me too.”

“You’re both fucking annoying,” Jiang Cheng grouched, which meant, Me too.

Wei Wuxian stripped off Nie Huaisang’s muddy outer robe and tucked him into bed, and Jiang Cheng poured a glass of water from the pitcher by the door, drank it, poured another, scowled at Wei Wuxian for a moment, and set it on the bedside table. Wei Wuxian glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, finished with Nie Huaisang and started backing out of the room.

Nie Huaisang sat up more or less abruptly. “Both of you have got to stop that bullshit. I miss my brothers, okay? I’d I had a second chance...” He sagged back down with the plural, and flung an arm over his damp eyes. There was a glimmer in the sky; it’d be morning by Lan standards soon. “I fucking miss them.”

“...Ah,” said Wei Wuxian, who always spoke even when he didn’t know what to say.

“Yeah,” Jiang Cheng said abruptly, and, “Drink your fucking water.” And the door slammed behind him as he walked out.

[...a few lines of dialogue later...]

“Seriously, you can go.” Nie Huaisang flicked a few tired fingers in dismissal.

“Are you sure?” Wei Wuxian added with an audible smirk, “Because if I stay up for another half hour, I can wake Lan Zhan with a morning...big ol’...loving...”

Nie Huaisang finally adjusted his arm to crack one eye up at him.

“People usually cut me off before I get that far,” Wei Wuxian admitted.

[ . . . a bit more dialogue and the end.]

[thisissirius]

8+18 for the prompt set

Amnesia + Reunion

that someone could be (important) [ao3] eddie/buck, amnesia

The house is empty.

Sending Chris to Hen's for the weekend was a snap decision, but Eddie feels like he's falling apart hour by hour. There's stuff to clean in the kitchen, laundry that needs doing, and things scattered around the living room that need picking up.

"I'll tidy up when we get back," Buck says, grinning and shoving at Eddie's shoulder. He brushes a kiss against Eddie's temple and then darts for the driver side of the truck.

"Idiot," Eddie says fondly, tossing Buck the keys. "I'm gonna chane your nickname to when we get back."

Buck snorts, sticking out his tongue as Eddie climbs in the truck. "Not Sexy anymore?"

Eddie laughs, slamming the door. "I've never called you that in my life."

"Pity," Buck says with a ridiculous grin.

Eddie's hands clench into fists and he moves through the house, the silence pounding around him. Chris' door is open and Eddie swallows as he looks inside. It's a little messy, clothes in the hamper, bedsheets rumpled, and a book half open on the bookcase. It's one he's reading with Buck and when Eddie tries to pick it up, Chris wordlessly shakes his head.

"Fuck," Eddie says, closing Chris' door and pressing his head against it.

It's worse when he moves into the bedroom; it looks better than it ever has. Where Eddie's kept it mostly barren and cold, Buck's filled it with plants, pictures, and knick knacks from his own apartment.

"Isn't that better?"

"I just sleep in here."

"Just sleep?"

Eddie chokes on his next breath and climbs onto the bed, mindful of his arm, srunching up the sheets beneath his right hand, and sucking in a lungful of air. The sheets and pillows no longer smell like Buck, and Eddie wants to throw up. Everything's fading. Buck's fading.

"We're actually gonna be early," Buck says, eyes on the road. They're coming up a crossing and he eyes the lights.

Eddie pulls out his phone, taps a message out to Bobby to let them know they might be there before Chim and Maddie.

Seems fake is the message he gets back.

He opens his mouth to tell Buck that Bobby needs to stop spending so much time around May and Harry when Buck curses under his breath and the truck skids and there's—

There's a knock at the door.

Eddie doesn't want to answer it, doesn't want to get off the bed. He turns his head into the pillows, closing his eyes and swallowing thickly.

The knocks continue.

It could be about Buck, a voice in the back of his head says.

Forcing himself up off the bed, Eddie cradles his arm and moves into the hall, the knocks continuing. Eddie's phone is on the kitchen counter but he ignores it, heading for the door and unlocking it.

Maddie is on the doorstep, giving him a tentative smile, but Eddie doesn't answer it. "Is Chris home?"

"No," Eddie says, leaving her in the doorway and heading back into the living room. He grabs his phone on the way, slipping it into his pocket.

"Eddie," Maddie starts, following him. "I know you don't want to see me—"

"I don't want to see anyone," Eddie says. He sits on the edge of the couch and rubs his thigh.

Maddie nods, hovering awkwardly in the doorway. Eddie wonders whether she's left Chim in charge of Jee, and who's watching Buck. He shrugs it off; it's not his problem. "I'm sorry—"

"Don't," Eddie snaps. "You made it more than clear I should stay away."

"That's not," Maddie starts. Her face falls and she wrings her hands. "It was upsetting him and I just wanted—"

"Upsetting him?" Eddie pushes to his feet. "I'm really fucking sorry that my boyfriend forgetting me upset him!"

Maddie's eyes widen and she ducks her head, swipes a hand over her face. "I know I did the wrong thing, and I'm sorry."

The anger that Eddie's been struggling to keep at bay wants to burst out, so he clenches his hand into a fist, looks at the clock on the wall. He hopes Maddie leaves soon. He doesn't want to see anyone and she knows that, so why—

"I just wanted what was best for him," Maddie says quietly. "I didn't know what to do."

Closing his eyes, Eddie bites at the inside of his cheek.

Eddie appreciates Hen's hand on his elbow as they walk towards Buck's hospital room. "You're sure he's okay?"

"He woke up," Hen said, squeezing his arm. "That's the best news we could have."

Through the glass, Eddie can see Buck smiling gently at Maddie. She's got her fingers curled around his wrist and Eddie's heart picks up a few beats. He's been desperate to see him, to know that Buck's really okay. He doesn't remember the crash, doesn't remember the rescue, barely remembers the first time he woke up.

Bobby says his first word was Buck, and that's all Eddie needs to remember.

"Buck," he says, as Hen pushes open the door.

Maddie sucks in a breath and Eddie frowns, but Buck's looking up, grinning. "Hen!"

"Hi, Buck," Hen says, looking relieved. "I'm really glad to see you're awake."

"It's good to be awake," Buck says, and his eyes dart to Eddie. When he frowns, something stutters in Eddie's chest. "Shit man, are you okay?"

Eddie nods, blows out a breath. "Of course you ask about me."

Maddie says, "Eddie," but Buck's raising an eyebrow.

"Do I know you?"

Eddie presses a fist to his eye and chokes back a sob.

"Very funny," Eddie says, but dread settles cold in his stomach. The way Buck's looking at him, no recognition. Fuck. Fuck. Maddie looks distressed, but Eddie doesn't care. How could she possibly know? Buck doesn't say anything and Eddie chokes out, "you don't know me?"

"Should I?"

Fear forces the, "I hope you'd remember your boyfriend," out before he can stop it.

Buck's face closes down quickly, staring at Maddie in surprise. "Is this true?"

"Buck," Maddie starts.

"Please take me back to my room," Eddie says.

"I don't remember," Buck says, panicked, and Eddie hates how high his voice is, how scared he is. "I don't remember."

"I shouldn't have stopped you seeing him," Maddie says. "Everyone's told me so many times, but he wouldn't talk to anyone. I was afraid he was going to hurt himself."

Later, Eddie supposes he'll forgive her. For now, he doesn't care. "Please go away."

"Eddie—"

"Maddie," he says, desperation clawing at his tone. "I've lost my boyfriend. Please don't expect me to forgive you right now."

Maddie looks sad, guilty, and Eddie doesn't blame her, not really. She's protecting her little brother, something he's always admired in her. Buck's here because of her and he knows, later, when things aren't so raw, he'll know she did the right thing.

Later.

Eddie doesn't watch her leave. He pulls on his phone.

"Wait," Maddie says, and Eddie frowns, because he made it clear—

There's the sound of someone banging open the door and Eddie pushes to his feet, wanting to know what the hell is going on, when someone skids into the living room.

"Eddie."

Buck. "Buck," he whispers, afraid to hope.

The sheer devastation on Buck's face is heartbreaking and he sobs out, "I'm so sorry, Eddie, I'm sorry."

"Buck," he says again, stumbling forward, and Buck meets him halfway. He's mindful of Eddie's broken arm, cradles the back of his head. Eddie breaks; he's crying, turning his face into Buck's neck and sobs.

"Ssh," Buck whispers, nose to Eddie's temple. "I've got you, Eds. I'm here."

Eddie's fingers curl into Buck's shirt. "I thought," he gasps out, struggles to breathe.

"Easy. Breathe," Buck says, tightening his grip. "I know. I'm here. I remember."

"Fuck," Eddie says. When he calms down, he pulls back, lifting his hand to Buck's face. "You're here."

Buck's hand comes up to his, holds it tightly. "I am."

When Eddie looks, Maddie's gone and he feels the flash of guilt, but it fades quickly. "I didn't know—"

Eddie can't finish, and Buck understands. He nods, leans in to kiss Eddie and oh, it's the best kiss they've ever had. He presses forward, eyes slipping closed.

"I missed you," he whispers.

"I missed you too," Buck says. "I might not have remembered, but I still felt it. The hole where you should be."

It's a ridiculous sentiment, one that Eddie understands completely. "Chris is gonna be ecstatic." Buck looks distressed, but Eddie shakes his head at whatever he tries to say. "You did nothing wrong."

Buck shrugs. "Maybe. Still feels like it."

"He won't know Chris," Eddie says. "Carla, how do I tell Chris that Buck doesn't remember him?"

"Carefully," Carla says, taking his hand. "We'll do it together. But you know that boy will do everything he can to fight."

Eddie wants to yell; how can anyone fight amnesia? He holds his tongue, thinks of Chris. He doesn't know what he's going to do.

"Hey," Buck says gently, fingers on Eddie's chin. "I'm here, okay? It's going to be okay."

"Yeah," Eddie says. Maybe it will, maybe it won't. Either way, he's got Buck back and he remembers. "We should call Hen."

"We will," Buck says. He leans in for another kiss. "I just need a minute, alright?"

Eddie nods, understands completely. He's not sure he can let go of Buck right now, even if Buck wants him to. "I love you."

A small intake of breath, but the smile on Buck's face is blinding. "I love you, too. So much." Eddie smiles into the next kiss, relishes the slide of Buck's hand to the back of his neck, squeezing gently. Buck pulls back, eyes looking over Eddie's shoulder. "Did you not even clean?"

"Fuck off," Eddie says without heat. "You weren't here."

"Just a maid," Buck says, pretending to be angry.

"No." Eddie rubs his thumb over Buck's cheek, eyes wet with tears he can't hold back. "Not just a maid."

Buck's smile, the recognition in his eyes, is worth more to Eddie than he can put into words.

[arrowflier]

One of the Girls (Ficlet)

Daily Speedwrite #8.  The struggle is real today; I spent longer than I meant to at work and haven’t done a single productive thing since I got back.  But now I locked myself in my study with a gin and juice and my computer, so let’s see what happens before I need a refill.  

When Ian told Mickey that girls wouldn’t want to hear about their sex life, he had no idea just how wrong he was.

He had been on his way down to the laundry room of their new apartment complex when he ran into Jill and her friends, holding a pile of stained bedsheets and boxers discreetly wrapped in a plastic bag.  One of these days he’d convince Mickey that they needed a basket, but for now this would have to do.  

They were wandering down the hall just in front of him, and he assumed they were heading out since they weren’t holding anything of their own, but to his dismay they turned into the laundry room before he did.

“I’m telling you,” one of Jill’s friends was saying, “you have to spice things up a little!”

Another woman laughed.  “Have you even met Alan?” she asked.  “I don’t think he’s up for spicy, Kelly.”

Jill gave them both a soft whack on the arm as she made for one of the machines, glaring back at them when she bent down to open it.  “Shut up,” she groused.  “We’re doing just fine.”

Ian hovered in the doorway a moment before sliding through quietly, hoping to avoid notice by taking the machine closest to the entry.  He set his bag down and started to rustle through it, wincing inwardly at the not-so-discreet sound of the plastic.

Just as he pulled the first item free, he was spotted.

“Ian!” Jill greeted, a little too eagerly.  She shushed her friends, clearly glad to have a distraction, and leaned forward to rest her arms on the top of her machine.  “This is Kelly,” she introduced, pointing to the blonde that had tried to give her advice, “and this is Ricky.”

They both gave short waves, Kelly looking him up and down in a way that made the back of his neck go red. 

“What are you doing down here?” Jill asked, going back to pulling her clothes from the washer.  She passed a few wet items to Ricky, who bent to throw them into a dryer across the narrow room.  “I thought Mickey did the laundry.”

Ian choked on a sudden laugh, and then schooled his expression when he saw Jill’s eyes widen.  “Uh, yeah,” he said.  “But he keeps bringing back the wrong stuff, so...”

“Oh yeah,” Jill realized.  “Alan went on forever about that damn shirt, even though you returned it.”  She shrugged.  “Oh well.  I’m sure Mickey is happy to pass off some chores anyway.”

Ian felt his eyebrows rise.  Just how often was Mickey down here, anyway?

“So,” Kelly started, moving forward to crowd Ian against the wall.  “You got a roommate?  That’s cute.”  She flashed white teeth at him, and he moved sideways until he was stopped by the washer he had claimed.

“Something like that,” he replied cautiously.

“Kelly, back off,” Jill said with an inelegant snort.  “He’s married.”  When her friend just looked at her, she added, “to Mickey.”

Kelly pouted, but backed away.  “Too bad,” she said, then, “I guess now I know what the big deal is.”

Confused, Ian just turned back to his task, letting Jill wrangle her friends.  He just wanted to get the laundry done and get back upstairs to his husband, who was impatiently awaiting the clean sheets.  Someday they’d have to get a spare set.

But as he pulled them from the bag, a pair of underwear fell free onto the floor, and all hope of avoiding further conversation was lost.

“Whoa, what happened to those?” Ricky asked from across the room.

Ian looked down, expecting a few awkward stains or something, and instead found Mickey’s boxer briefs, torn clear apart at the side seam with frayed threads visible against the tiled floor.

“Um,” he said.  “Nothing?”  He moved his tongue in his mouth, paranoidly checking for fabric in his teeth and thanking any deity that would listen when he found none.

“That,” Kelly said with a raised brow, “is not nothing, my new gay friend.”

Even Jill seemed curious, and they all came closer.  Ian glanced toward the open door, but it was as good as a mile away with the three women standing in front of it.

“Tell us everything,” Ricky demanded.

---------

Almost an hour later, Mickey wandered down to the laundry room in one of Ian’s old hoodies and a pair of too-large boxers, wondering what the hell was taking him so long.  Did he not know how to use the fucking machines or something?  Mickey did their laundry all the time, it wasn’t that complicated.

He heard the raucous laughter from halfway down the hall, and sped up when he recognized Ian’s voice among it.

“Moral of the story, ladies,” his husband was saying, “don’t add hot sauce to your food before you--”

“Ian!” he yelped from the doorway, taking in the sight of the redhead leaning casually against a dryer, surrounded by women who appeared to be completely enraptured by his story.

Ian cut off, and they turned to look at him as one.  “Mickey!” they all cheered, and he finally noticed the empty bottle of wine balanced precariously on a pile of clean clothes in Jill’s laundry basket.

Ian looked away first, confused, and asked “Wait, how do you guys know Mickey?”  Jill gave him a look, and he added, “Not you, Jill, shut up.”

Oh good, so his lightweight of a spouse had been drinking too.  Mickey sighed.

Jill answered anyway.  “Mickey’s in here all the time, isn’t that right girls?”

Kelly and Ricky nodded enthusiastically.  “He has the best stories,” Kelly gushed.  “Talks about his husband all the time,” she added slyly, and Mickey wanted to deck her when a smug smile blossomed on Ian’s face.  

“Okay, okay,” he interrupted.  “Hate to disrupt this love fest, but grab the sheets and let’s go, Firecrotch.”

“That’s what he always calls you!” Ricky chortled.

“Ooh, doing sheets again already?” Kelly added.  “Talk about keeping things spicy.” She waggled her eyebrows, and Mickey knew his own eyebrow was twitching. 

“No, no,” Ian said, “we just talked about that, spicy is bad!”

Then they were off again, until Mickey dragged Ian up by the arm and steered him to the door.

“That’s enough, man,” he complained.  “Stop tellin’ everyone our business.”

“But you tell them our business, Mick,” Ian said plaintively.  “Why is okay for you to do it?”

“I do not,” Mickey denied, but he was immediately undermined by Jill calling out, “See you next week, Mickey!  Bring a new story!” as they walked away.

“Damn women,” he grumbled as he shoved Ian ahead.  “Can’t keep a fuckin’ secret to save their lives.”

“Aw, don’t worry Mick,” Ian said as he slowed, making Mickey run into his back so he could get an arm up and around his neck.  “I think it’s cute that you’re one of the girls.”

Mickey shrugged out of the awkward hold, only to get up next to Ian and wrap an arm around his waist instead.  “You’re one to talk, Gallagher,” he said.  “Getting white girl wasted on laundry day, Jesus.”

Ian stopped again, mouth a perfect O, and slapped Mickey in the chest.  “Mick, we forgot the sheets!”

Mickey groaned, then turned around to face the music again.  Of course they fucking did.

[fruitcoops]

Tiktok 5: Together Like Glue

I’ve been looking forward to this one for a while and I hope you enjoy it! Based on the “superglue a jar shut and then ask your partner to open it” prank. “Hey, baby” is rapidly becoming the Coops catchphrase. Credit for Coops goes to @lumosinlove!

The living room was kind of a mess, to be honest, but it was a charming one. Blankets were strewn across the couch and two chairs while the coffee table was absolutely covered in random papers and mismatched socks. Clean laundry balanced precariously on the armrests, just enough out of Hattie’s reach that she couldn’t grab it and run off. “Hey, baby?” Remus asked as he turned his phone toward the couch.

Sirius looked up from the bedsheet he was struggling to fold. “Yeah?”

“Could you open this for me?” He held out a mostly-empty jar of peanut butter.

“Sure.” Sirius took the jar and tried to unscrew the lid. It didn’t budge. “This is really tight.”

“I know, right? I couldn’t get it open.” Remus’ amusement was poorly hidden, but Sirius was too preoccupied to notice.

His jaw ticked as he gripped the glass and twisted. “Merde, this is ridiculous.”

“If you can’t get it, I can grab another jar—”

“Nope,” Sirius interrupted. His cheeks were slowly turning red. “No, this is the only thing you keep me around for.”

“That’s not true, you’re pretty handy with a washing machine as well.” Remus paused for a second. “If you get it open, I’ll do the laundry for the next week.”

“You’ll forgive me for the chores prank?” Sirius’ eyebrows rose. “You’ll do the dishes again?”

“You’re already forgiven, but yes.” Sirius’ muscles flexed as he redoubled his efforts before walking into the kitchen. “Where are you going?”

“Celeste told me hot water loosens the seal,” Sirius said as he turned the sink on and started running it over the edge of the jar. Remus began snickering quietly behind the camera. “Holy fuck, what kind of glue is this? Hang on, why are you laughing?”

“It’s superglue,” Remus managed. The camera went a little sideways as he leaned on the doorway. “I superglued it shut. Oh my god, you were trying so hard.”

Sirius turned the sink off and closed his eyes, then smiled and shook his head. “You’re way too good at this. Does this mean I still have to do the laundry?”

“No, I can do it, it’s okay.” Remus burst into another round of laughter. “Celeste is going to be so proud of you for the hot water trick, though.”

“I can be a functioning adult!” Sirius protested, rolling a dish towel and snapping it at him with a grin. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

“Bold of you to assume I won’t finish it.”

[maladaptive---daydreamer]

No more secrets

(This is set in 6th year, no voldemort being back business)

Sunlight filtered through the dormitory windows onto your sleeping form. You had asked your older brother to teach you a charm to bewitch your windows to reflect the weather outside, growing tired for the green murk courtesy of the black lake. You fluttered your eyes, blinking the sleep from them and rolled over to check the small clock at your bedside. Despite it being the weekend your body still woke you up at 7 am like clockwork, causing you to groan in frustration and smack your bedsheets

“Some of us are trying to fall back to sleep, you know” Daphne grumbled from her bed, beside you.

“Seize the day miss Greengrass” you replied, deciding you might as well get out of bed and follow your own advice.

You kicked your sheets off and made your bed before gathering your things and heading to the prefects bathroom for a shower. You returned to the dormitory with clean hair that smelt of your apple shampoo dressed in some comfy muggle clothes you purchased. Despite their shortcomings, muggles really knew how to dress comfortably. You had stumbled across Piccadilly Circus while trying to get to Diagon Alley during the Christmas break in your fourth year while on your own. In one of the shops you had seen joggers folded on a display and just had to purchase them, they were warm and soft, perfect for cold days.

“My, my what would your pure blood ancestors say if they saw you dressed like a muggle” Daphne teased from her bed.

“Someone has to be the family disappointment don’t they” You replied, putting your clothes in the laundry basket.

“I highly doubt you’re the family disappointment, Y/N, you’re top of the class in basically everything, you’re the first prefect in your family too!” Lily said. She was easily the most positive witch in Slytherin house and hated to see you bring yourself down like that

“Well, Granger is all those things and she’s a mudblood, our parents don’t care about academics as much as you’d think they do” Pansy interjected

“Pansy, no one asked you. As I recall this was a conversation between Daphne, Lily and myself” you snapped, knowing she was attempting to remind Lily of her half-blood status.

Pansy scoffed and rolled her eyes, over the last few weeks she had really been struggling to hide her dislike for you. It didn’t bother you, Pansy was a bitch to put it quite plainly. You wondered how someone could be so venomous and be content with their life.

You began to gather your things to head to the library after breakfast. 6th year meant you and your classmates were inundated with homework from all your classes. You hoped you could get ahead of your work so you could keep Sunday free.

“It’s literally Saturday, why are you voluntarily doing work?” Daphne asked, her head barely visible from under her duvet cocoon.

“If I didn’t, who would you run to at 11pm on Sunday evening because you forgot to write your charms essay?”

“You are a true friend Y/N Y/L/N”

“Hey, Y/N,” Pansy hollered

You looked at Pansy and waited for her to speak

“If you see Draco at breakfast, you mind telling him I’ll be a bit late?”

“I don’t think he’ll care Pans” Daphne replied for you

“Oh but he will, we’re going to the library to do out potions work together”

You were about to frown but stopped yourself, Draco had promised you that the two of you would write your 3 feet of parchment together. Lily caught your eye knowing how you felt about the platinum blond.

“Sure thing Parkinson” You said, with a sickly sweet smile.

You turned on your heel and went down the stairs into the Slytherin common room, despite it being only 8.30 on a Saturday morning, the common room was densely populated with slytherin students of all ages. A small group of second years were sitting on the floor playing gobstones in your path. They looked up and paled, scrambling to move out of your way.

“Scaring second years now are we Y/L/N” The voice of your friend Blaise Zabini asked.

“Me? Of course not, Zabini, I’ll leave that to you and your friends” you replied waking out of the portrait hole

“It hurts me that you think so lowly of us” He feigned hurt as he began to walk alongside you

“I apologise for hurting your feelings”

“What would your father have to say, hearing you apologise to a half blood”

“Here’s me thinking you knew me better, you already know I don’t care for the purity of blood”

“Where are you headed to after breakfast”

“The library, I’ve got a ton of homework to do”

“Have you heard about the party the 7th years are planning?”

“Nope, not that I’m interested anyway”

“This is coming from the girl who managed to get half the quidditch team drunk off fire whiskey the last time we had a party”

“What can I say, academia looks better on me”

“I can’t say I disagree with that. You should still come, bring your friends along too, it’s been a while since we all got together.”

“I’ll see if Daphne and Lily want to come along.”

The two of you had reached the door of the Great Hall

“There you are Zabini, we’ve been waiting for ages” Draco yelled from across the room

You and Blaise walked to your normal spot on the Slytherin table. He took a seat and you stood behind the bench.

“By the way, Malfoy, Parkinson said she’ll be late. Have to do the potions essay you promised you’d do with me a bit later”

“Y/N I-”

You rolled your eyes and opted to grab some sliced of toast wrapped in some tissue and go straight to the library rather than listen to whatever excuse Draco had planned to spew out.

You settled yourself near the fireplace pulling your textbooks out and laying them around you. You managed to write your charms essay, aswell as your Defence Against the Dark Arts essay and some reading for Transfiguration. You looked up at the big clock in the library and noticed it was past two, your stomach rumbled, clearly upset at the measly breakfast of 2 slices of buttered toast and some water. You gathered all your books again and stuffed them back into your bag and headed to the kitchens. The house elves were well aware of what you preferred to eat for lunch and handed it to you wrapped in a gingham handkerchief, you settled yourself by the window eating your lunch enjoying the view over the grounds.

“Y/N”

You looked up to see the face of your academic rival.

“Hermione”

“Do you mind if I take a seat?”

You shook your head and she sat down next to you.

“I was wondering if you could help me”

“Wow the great Hermione Granger needs help? From me?”

“I- nevermind it was silly of me” She got up feeling flustered and began to walk away

“Lighten up, Granger, it was a joke”

“What would you do if you liked someone, but they had a girlfriend and probably don’t like you back?”

“You’ve finally admitted you like Weasley huh” You patted the window sill next to you, prompting her to sit down

“What? No! Ron-“

“You do know Lavender has been slipping him love potions right?”

“But that’s against the rules! She could get expelled for that”

“She doesn’t care Hermione, if I were you I’d slip a bezoar down Weasley’s throat and see what happens after that”

“How do you know? That she’s been making him drink love potions?”

“I saw her buying some in hogsmeade”

“Well thank you for your help” 

“Can I ask why you thought I’d be the best person to come to for this advice?”

“Well to be quite frank, I don’t know myself. All my other friends are Ron’s friends too, I didn’t want them telling him anything. And we’ll you’ve been the kindest to me, and I would like to think despite everything you respect me. So thank you for your help” With that she got up and began to walk away

“Hey by the way, Granger, he’d be an idiot to turn you down”

Hermione flashed you a true genuine smile before returning to the Gryffindor common room.

You finished the remnants of your lunch and headed back to the dormitory. Daphne and Lily hadn’t left their spots on their beds.

“Who’s up for a party tonight?” You asked the both of them, a wide grin across your face.

After some further information from some 7th year girls, you, Daphne and Lily found yourselves standing outside the room of requirement at 9pm. Despite being a small, debaucherous get-together, in true Slytherin fashion the three of you were still impeccably dressed. You wore a thin silver satin blouse with a plunging neckline, a blouse he bought for you over the summer, along with some fitted black paper bag trousers and a pair of Chanel flats.

The door opened to reveal a room that looked exactly like the Slytherin common room only the table in front of the fire was covered in alcohol and snacks. Blaise, Draco, Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle were sat in a small group off to the side. Draco’s head snapped up when he heard the door open and he looked as though his breath catched in his throat. You knew he was trying not to stare but it was like he couldn’t move his eyes off you. You’d be lying if you said this wasn’t the effect you wanted to have. Daphne ran off to a 6th year boy that she had been flirting with and you and Lily headed over to your friends.

“You made it!” Blaise exaclaimed getting up to hug you.

You saw dracos knuckles whiten even more as he gripped his butterbeer. You hugged Blaise back, after all, it was Draco who wanted to keep the two of you a secret. Blaise hugged Lily too and the two of you sat down. You made a point to sit directly opposite Draco, forcing Blaise to sit on the arm of the sofa with his arm resting on its back. A butterbeer had been forced into your hand which you sipped every once in a while whilst making conversation with your friends. You had noticed Pansy almost sticking to Draco’s side. She’d laugh overly loud at any small thing he said, even if it wasn’t funny, and failed to get Draco to dance with her numerous times.

After a while the 7th years announced the commencement of a drinking game. They placed an empty bottle on the floor and spun it, if it landed on you, you had to choose a truth or a dare, if you didnt want to do the option you selected, youd have to take a double shot of firewhiskey. You chose to sit it out, standing on the outside of the circle only a few steps away from Draco, who coincidentally also decided to sit out.

“I like the blouse” He commented, taking a swig of his butterbeer

“Thank you, it was a gift” You replied, folding your arms together to accentuate your cleavage. 

“Would have preferred you wearing it with just the two of us. Goyle won’t stop staring at you.”

“Well if you offered to take me to a nicer place than a broom cupboard or the empty classroom on the fourth floor, then maybe I’d wear it”

“I was told you were talking to Granger today”

“And? Am I not allowed to speak to people?”

“Not that filthy mudblood”

“Does it really hurt your feelings that bad that she’s smarter than you despite being muggle born that the ONLY thing you can comment on is her blood status?”

“I don’t want you to be seen talking to her again”

“Newsflash, you can’t tell me what to do. I’m not Parkinson, I won’t obey you like some lost dog.” And with that you moved further away from him leaning on a column in the corner of the room. 

So far people had only chosen to spill truths, some choosing to take shots instead of their truths. Daphne and her little boyfriend had been dared to enjoy 7 minutes in heaven, made possible by a random broom cupboard supplied by the room of requirement, it had been more than seven minutes and you were sure you’d get a detailed play by play back in the dorms. The empty bottle of fire whiskey landed on Charlie, he joined hogwarts in 5th year after being in America for the last few years.

“Truth or dare Charles?” Blaise asked, rubbing his hands together

“Truth”

“Who do you think is the most beautiful girl in this room?”

“Oh that’s easy, Y/N”

The whole group turned to look at you. You could see from the corner of your eye that Draco had tensed up. He himself slowly turned his head to look at you

“I have to admit, Charlie, you have great taste. You’ll go far in this world” You said, smiling.

“I’ll go as far as you want me to”

This caused the whole group to laugh and return to their game. You checked the clock and saw that it was getting close to 1am. You tapped Lily’s shoulder and she got up.

“Leaving already girls?” Blaise asked from his spot infront of the fire

“It’s getting late, parties aren’t Y/N’s scene anymore anyway” Lily replied smoothing out her skirt

“I’ll walk you back to the dormitory, I’m rather bored here myself” Draco offered, finally getting free of Pansy

“No need, Lily and I are big girls, we can get ourselves back without Filch finding us.” You replied cooly

“I insist”

“No no, Draco. Stay, enjoy the festivities”

You and Lily snuck out of the room of requirement and returned to the dorms undetected.

“What was going on with you and Draco?” She asked while the two of you were getting ready for bed

“Nothing”

“It sounded like the two of you were having a tense conversation”

“You know how Draco can be, always trying to one up everyone”

“Did you hear about Pansy and Draco?” She asked once she was comfy in her bed.

“No” you put your hair brush back in the drawer and got under your own covers

“I heard from Marietta in the year above that Parkinson was bragging about how her and Draco went on a date today. Apparently he took her to the black lake for a picnic”

“Well good for them, I hope they’re happy”

“I know you like him but maybe now she’ll stop being such a raging bitch”

“Maybe, goodnight Lily”

“Goodnight Y/N”

You weren’t crazy, you knew Draco wasn’t stupid enough to even attempt to cheat on you. Your family was just as affluent and your father was just as influential as Lucius for him to know that a cheating scandal between two of the oldest pure blood lines would not turn out well for him. Yet it did nothing to stop the anger bubbling up inside you.

You and Draco began to get closer during your 5th year. You two studied together often and you both were prefects, made to patrol the corridors at night. It was inevitable for the two of you to strike up a bond. You didnt expect your bond to become so strong that an owl would end up dropping a letter on your bed one rainy summer afternoon, with a letter from Draco enclosed about how bored he was over the holiday. The two of you sent letters back and forth, he even floo’d into your bedroom when your parents were out. On the first hogsmeade trip of the year, he asked you to join him and he asked you to be his girlfriend. However, he wanted to keep your relationship a secret. He knew that people would talk and both of your parents would find out, it would lead to talks for the future, something he was not ready for. You saw where he was coming from and agreed, you just didn’t think it would end up like this. In the beginning he tried, he really did, he’d leave cute notes in your bag, he’d hold your hand under the table, save you a seat at dinner, even sneak you into his dormitory, but a few weeks ago, it all suddenly seemed to stop. But you were sick of it. You deserved to be treated better than you were being treated right now.

You awoke on Sunday feeling slightly less angry than you did when you went to sleep. Sunday’s were the day you and Draco would lock yourselves in an old empty classroom on the fourth floor and finally get to be yourselves. You went down to breakfast and sat in your usual seat, waiting for him to make his way down. You were half way through a bowl of cereal when you noticed him walk in with his boys, and Pansy. You dropped your spoon into your bowl causing milk to splash everywhere

“Merlin’s beard Y/N!” Daphne yelled, scooching to the side

You and Lily grabbed some napkins to clean up the small spillage.

“I’ve suddenly lost my appetite” You deadpanned

You got up and walked past draco, purposely bumping his shoulder on your way out. It hurt you more than it hurt him but you still had a point to make.

“Jeez Y/L/N, watch where youre-” Pansy Scoffed

“Oh fuck off pansy” 

“Y/N!” 

You ignored him and carried on walking out of the hall. You heard his footsteps behind you and he managed to catch up to you, grabbing you by the wrist.

“What is the matter with you?” He demanded

“Me? What’s the matter with you?”

“Nothings wrong with me you’re the one acting crazy”

“Firstly, I don’t like your tone. If you’re going to shout at me I refuse to listen to another word.”

“I’m sorry but I don’t understand what the issue is”

“My issue is YOU”

You ended up raising your voice to a volume too loud for Draco’s liking and he pulled you into a nearby storage cupboard.

“This is my problem draco, being forced to hide everything. Arguing in a fucking broom cupboard for fucks sake.” You sighed

“Y/N, you know how-“

“No, I am tired, Draco, sick and tired of hiding, of keeping secrets, of not being able to come and collapse next to you when I’m upset”

“You can still do that,”

“No I can’t, you always surrounded by one of your posse members. If it’s not Crabbe or Goyle then it’s fucking Parkinson. Did you know she’s going round telling everyone you took her to the black lake for a picnic?”

“She said what? I didn’t even see her yesterday, Blaise and I went to the quidditch pitch after breakfast.” He had a face of visible disgust on his face at the thought of people thinking him and Pansy were a thing.

“Well yeah now the whole school thinks you’re going out with Parkinson and you’re not going to say anything to stop those rumours”

“You know why, princess”

“Yeah you don’t want to think about the future. But if thinking about a future with me really scares you so much Draco, why are you still with me? Surely if you just kept yourself single, you’d have no future to worry about and no girlfriend breathing down your neck”

“You know that’s not what I mean”

“Then what do you mean? Because -” you cut him off, you were starting to get annoyed and he could sense it

“If you stopped interrupting me, I’d be able to explain my thoughts” He said calmly, placing both his hands on your cheeks, forcing you to look at him in the eye.

“Speak then”

“Yes I don’t want to think about my future. I don’t want to think about what ministry career I’ll be forced into to keep up my family’s reputation, who I’ll be forced to call my friend for the sake of appearances, what I need to name my first born child. I don’t want to think about all the skeletons in the Malfoy family wardrobe that I’ve yet to discover. This, me and you, it’s so innocent, so pure. You get me, you see me for more than my family name. And I want to protect this. I don’t want our parents getting involved and tainting what we have.”

“It’s the only way we-”

“Interrupt me once more and I’ll hex you.” 

You closed your mouth and decided to listen for just a short while more.

“However, if the key to your happiness, and the future of our relationship, is for everyone, including our parents, to find out about us. Then I will walk straight into that hall and stand on the table and announce it to the whole school.”

“You really mean that?”

He nodded

“So if your father sent you an owl tomorrow that says we have to get married in the summer...” you linked your wrists together behind his neck, swaying slightly as you looked up at him

“I’ll marry you. I would sacrifice my own life if it meant I could see you smile.”

“Bit dramatic there, Malfoy” you laughed

“You taught me well, Y/L/N”

“I’d rather you didn’t embarrass the both of us by getting up on the table. You can hold my hand though.”

“Anything for the Slytherin princess.”

You smiled and gave him a quick kiss before getting out of the broom closet. Draco took your hand and held it firmly in his as you both walked into the great hall.

He started to think out loud about his breakfast but you watched for the reactions of your peers as you made your way to your table, no one was really shocked, most of them looked up and smiled excitedly before chattering to their friends, you walked past the gryffindor table and heard the words ‘bet’ and ‘owe’ get thrown about. Once you got to your friends Draco waited for you to sit down, right next to Pansy, before sitting on your other side with his arm around your waist.

“Y/L/N and Malfoy? I never saw that one coming” Blaise laughed, the sarcasm evident in his voice.

“Well get used to it, Zabini, cause you’ll be seeing it a whole lot more” You responded, moving closer into Draco’s lap.

Long gone were the days of hiding, as well as the days of Pansy Parkinson thinking she could steal your man.