#ever think about the way that you are and realise you fucking hate yourself?

[confusedsiewmai]

God im in so much emotional pain

[scarlettmurphy]

STARCROSSED PT2 +ੈ✩‧₊˚ LOGAN HOWLETT.

logan and y/n — where you are completely in love with a man older then you’re father by a good century or so.. whose completely in love with another.

- content warning age gap (is legal) drinking. explicit. swearing. dirty humour. comfort (an ounce). drugs. nsfw. sick. body issues. sh. angst.. maybe happy endings?! pairings: older!logan howlett x xaiver!reader. logan howlett x jean grey.

spoiler: insane yearning and angst i’m sorry im too far gone ☹️ happy ? where.

note this is part two to starcrossed, prepare for even heavier angst!🫶🏻 i didn’t realise how sad this was until i finished the chapter and realised holy shit this is long. part three is already in the works. i hope u enjoy it! make sure to read pt1. it’s a bit diff from the first one but i hope u like it still. also if you’ve seen the movie ten things i hate about u the mid bit of this might remind u of that one scene if u get me :) song: need you now by lady a cos i was listening to it and jeff buckley whilst reading this? also on the timeline im going for like xmen 2 time i think?

tags — @faceache111 @malfoys-demigod @navs-bhat @dilfismz @thisbipuff-isaswiftie @twinky-wink @thewiselionessss @thecraziestcrayon @awhoreforalotofshows @emily-b @jae48 @cxptainbuck @444st4rg1rl 🫶🏻

[i hope you like it!!]

you’d absolutely love to believe that what you heard last night wasn’t what happened but as your mind goes over the previous night as you fought yourself to stay awake during your fathers little class your brain couldn’t forget the continuous moans and little yells that you heard from a few rooms across from your own at the mansion for a good hour or two last night. you can’t help but figure out that logan most certainly found jean and just thinking about it made you feel sick. scott being the main thing on your brain after you got over the fact logan most definitely fucked jean last night.

she was a cheater. what else could you expect? your thoughts swirling in your brain causing an indescribable amount of heart ache as you kept yourself completely quiet and withdrawn from whatever was going on in this lesson, rogue clearly being able to tell you were off as she glanced at bobby giving him a look you picked up on — him shrugging his shoulders in return as you cursed your sadness for being so obvious.

just the thought of jean and logan staring at eachother hurt you but her touching him, his hands over her skin, her lips on his, his mind only on her in that moment and his gaze locked into hers as she let him take her yet again enraged you to another level it was a struggle not to jump into his mind and find out exactly what happened but you couldn’t, you wouldn’t. your brain fighting with your heart in every way as you felt sick with all those pictures of the scenario you were forming for yourself.

so from that knowledge as you sat in class you knew you needed to stop liking him for good. he didn’t like you, he was throwing it in your face. you heard it all and it hurt you too much to bare. you didn’t even wanna look at him — that single thought of contact sending you crazy. you couldn’t even bring yourself to see him today. you didn’t want too, you couldn’t. seeing jean as you passed through the kitchen earlier was enough to make you nearly cry and immediately stop that tiny breakfast you had made.

you really couldn’t deal with this. one bit. you never did well with emotional pain — physical was something you could endure, yet emotional was always something you couldn’t stomach ever since you were a little girl.

+ੈ✩‧₊˚

you'd been avoiding him like the plague. literally. whenever you saw him at the end of the halls you'd turn the other away, force a little smile and act like you had somewhere to go if you were in conversation and it had been like that for two weeks. two weeks had passed since one of your normal conversations, the friendly chats you admired in your brain and made out to be more, the little touches he'd give you that you couldn't comprehend was only a friend thing to do, the way he'd hug you.. the deep conversations, the way he'd sometimes kiss your forehead before you left for bed, watching the rain together and just joking together all something you had put in the past. that had been gone for two weeks and to say it was breaking you would be an understatement.

you could tell others has noticed the practical borderline dissociation within you since you had been a little mute recently not that it was specially due to logan (it completely all was) but you didn't want it to be obvious, you hated that it could be perceived that way so you knew you had to do something about it. who knew heartache for one that didn't love you back could destroy you this badly from the inside out?

.. and today was no different on the logan front. you saw him once today in the halls ushering something to hank — the two in bustling conversation and you made sure not to risk it by going to class, to upset over it all to deal with another short horrible conversation where you were nothing but cold to him as you tried to cut down any romantic feelings you had for him. every time you spoke now you could see the confusion and frustration in his eyes, the mental image to much to bare as you went on hiding in your room and pondering and that’s where you had been since — buried in clothing choices as you tried to stomach down the anxiety that had been growing in you over the fact it was jeans birthday party today and you would have to make an appearance after you had been a hermit since you’d got your heart broken by a guy that didn’t even know. rogue and bobby being the only two people you had really spoke too since the shut down yet their concern had been growing annoying as rogue clearly told bobby about the little crush she could’ve guessed, and got out of you when the two of you were high together a few months ago, you had on logan. bobby actually giving you little options of guys you could date to get over someone which was all you needed to hear when you realised rogue had told him as he literally mentioned hank who they knew you recently hiked with since he had been bothering you over your melancholy, yet you had left before it was a full fledge little argument.

just the thought of having to socialise with him and the others and step out of the hole you’d built for yourself to hide in irritated you especially for jean of all people’s party, your ‘smidge’ of hatred for the woman who had really been rude to you since she’d known you not because of logan, because god on that front she wins and it feels like she’s married to him despite her ties to scott, but on the power front. she knew you had powers incomparable to hers that you hardly even showcased magneto being someone who taught you many things when you were younger, your own parents being raven and charles. of course you had powers which were indescribable.

and most of the time you wanted to use it on that bitch. you were lucky she couldn’t get into your twisted mind to find that fact out.

you let out a little sigh as you decided on the black mini skirt and sweater — you finally having an excuse for the fall outfit and lack of dress because it was october which has always been your favourite season and best time of year yet this year that didn’t apply because you haven’t been hardly able to enjoy it because of isolation you’d forced yourself into.

y/n had to swallow her own self pity down as she leaned over to her perfume bottle on the drawer next to her mirror as she took in the image of her body in the skirt. her shrinking body, a scoff leaving her lips as she wasn’t happy with what she saw in the reflection. she never could be. the aroma of the perfume not masking her feelings at all as she put on some dc martens paired with black tights. the perfect little outfit yet she was sure jean would be outshining her on that front. god she didn’t even wanna imagine logan’s eyes being locked onto jean tonight, the heart ache already unbearable to comprehend as she swallowed a lump that formed in her throat. that aching feeling hadn’t gone away since the start of knowing logan the way she did, maybe that was a sign from the people above about how destined it was.. or how not it was.

these muddled thoughts led her too some early drinking as if she wouldn’t be getting shitfaced later. pregaming alone which is a bit self pity full as she swallowed the burning liquor down her throat, the whiskey hitting her softly and slowly enough to give her the confidence to leave her room twenty minutes later for this party.

+ੈ✩‧₊˚

the decorations were perfect, the present corner was overflowing and the students and people were everywhere. jean being clearly the popular girl from the looks of this party, as if y/n already didn’t know that, as the blasting music just made her more aware of the scenario she was in as she fought the urge to look around the room for logan as she went straight over to the bar that had been made. the party was the perfect one a girl, woman, could ask for and y/n could feel the jealously bubbling already that she bit down as she forced a friendly smile to join her lips.

walking through the dancing groups of people, there hardly even being any spaces to walk unless you wanted to bump into a coked up or insanely drunk teenager or wade. who she was lucky to get past without having to talk to yet, no matter how much she did like and enjoy his company she couldn’t deal with his jokes right now which she could guess who’d they’d be centered around, she knew he knew to some extent she was just lucky he hadn’t out rightly said it. that would be too much pity for her to deal with, that coming from wade being another level of pathetic.

the second she leant against the bar she managed to grab the busy barmaids attention giving her a soft nod and polite smile as she didn’t notice the figure beside her as she asked for a coke and vodka.

“thank god you’re showing your face — i thought i was going to have to clone you to get a good conversation.” hank rolled out his tipsiness showing as he pulled y/n into a tight hug when he was sat down on the stool. y/n letting out a low chuckle as she hugged him back nicely, his presence being a little surprise she tried not to seem so bothered about.

“hiya hank.” y/n said softly as the barmaid came over with her drink, placing it next to her. “thanks.” y/n nodded out as hank placed his hand on the stool next to him as she immediately grabbed it and took a swig.

“come! sit.” he ushered in with a drunken smile on his face, a bright one as usual, as he patted the bar stool next to him inviting her to sit and before y/n could even speak up in reply as she slid down on the stool hank bit in.

“where the hell have you been?” he abruptly said bluntly, putting a little look on his face off one that’s pissed off as y/n felt the guilt rush through her as she wrapped her fingers around the glass drowning her truth in the drink as she took a big sip off the liquor acting as if that didn’t taste appalling as she shrugged her shoulders at hanks obvious question which has an obvious answer to that she’d play off as a stupid claim if questioned about it.

“—i’ve been busy! controlling powers— small missions, and that.” y/n lied out.

hank furrowed his eyebrows at his words, giving her a knowing look before he shook his head swiftly at what she said. seeing right through her little lie he truly knew nothing much about what the truth was or not as he took a little sip of his beer.

“i know you but i’m not pushing it— rather you bite of logan’s heads rather then mine.” hank said out lowly as y/n’s eyebrows furrowed at his comment as a look of confusion spread over her face at the mention of him but before she could question hank on it she was met with two hands around her waist, pulling her tightly back purposely.

“hello pretty little liars, you’re aria?” wade said loudly into her ear his drunkenness obvious as y/n scoffed, him clearly stating that because her outfit choice as he squeezed her even tighter y/n’s eyes rolling as she elbowed him playfully back as his hands on her faltered as he playfully shoved her back.

“—elsa! you made it snow yet?” y/n said back to him as she was met with the sound of his laughter as he pulled on the stool next to y/n, making the guy who was sat on it mutter a curse before wade sent him a glare and then went speed walking away clearly a boy as young as fourteen or thirteen who just got the shit scared out him for, wade’s harsh look as he sqt down on the stool as he met y/n’s gaze.

“you know i have honey.” he nodded out with a smirk as hank leaned into the twos space.

“shots anyone?” hank rolled out, fixing his glasses as wade enthusiastically said a quick yes, y/n adding to the fire. “—very much needed.” y/n drove out as wade sent her a little look of knowing yet he held back the urge to call her out on it. he was being a ‘good’ friend in his eyes anyway, he didn’t wanna hear her say things about logan when he knew a few things himself on how the other party felt.

hank calling the barmaid over as wade pulled y/n’s stool closer to his that knowing look still present on his face as he played with the knowledge he had a bit just in a little playful way.

“you seen the birthday girl yet?..gave her a gift?” wade said sarcastically knowing the two didn’t really see eye to eye on a LOT of things as y/n gave him a little glare, him having been present for many of their little disagreements.

“luckily i haven’t, as i’ve brung nothing.” y/n rumbled back as wade nudged her playfully with her words as hank grabbed the tray of shots from the barmaid— y/n’s eyes widening once she saw how many shots he had ordered. “fifteen?” y/n broke out with a raised eyebrow as hank chuckled as he took one, downing it straight away before grabbing another as wade spoke up cockily.

“who’s pants are you trying to get into?” wade rolled out, his voice sly as he grabbed two for himself as y/n leaned over and took one ready to get shitfaced, maybe that’d stop her mind from falling back onto logan every other second her longing heart internally hating this situation more and more as she yearned to see him but she bit back the urge to even look around for him. halting that urge by taking a shot.

“preferably anyone with a pulse and no dick between their legs.” hank said right as y/n took another shot, her nearly choking on the burning liquid which was a horrible mix of vodka and god knows what.

“i can tuck.” wade said lowly as this made it worse, y/n nudging wade, shaking her head as she held back her laugh as she swallowed the shot she just took. “disgusting!” she rolled out as she took another, downing it before placing the shot down on the table.

“ah! sweeties jealous.” wade spoke up sarcastically with that all familiar cocky smile on his face with that teasing glint in his eyes as he handed another shot y/n’s way as she took it gracefully as they all cheersed their glasses together. that being just one of the about eight times they did that within the next thirty to sixty minutes as y/n bit back her thoughts with copious amounts of shots and soon enough they had gone through a good four or so tray off shots and a few drinks each.

every passing minute y/n felt her mind get closer and closer to the edge as every time she felt that aching feeling grow she’d swallow it back with another sip of liquor or large shot — wades jokes passing the time and hanks yapping and her own occasional drunken chime in making her mind a mess as hank got another row of shots.

the songs and wade and hank’s voices becoming a blur in y/n’s mind as she swallowed nothing but the truth with those shots. every sip feeling like more heartache she couldn’t stop having.

+ੈ✩‧₊˚

y/n was practically stuck too the bar stool, her eyes scanning the crowd occasionally (by occasionally around five times if not more a minute) as she looked for him. her mind lingering on a certain someone as it always tended to do the liquor just amplifying those feelings as hank spoke up.

“you know— you look like your mum.”

his words caused y/n’s attention to snap over to hank as she raised an eyebrow, wade making a little ‘oo’ in the background even if he couldn’t help but agree with his comment as he sipped on the cocktail he had ordered a few drinks previously that had just been laying there on the side. the bartender making a fuck ton of profit from these three miserables.

“very dead?” y/n said sarcastically as hank gave her a little look — clearly a little annoyed she didn’t take the comment seriously as he leaned a little closer to her.

“beautiful you idiot.” hank added out, his words making her eyebrows furrow a bit as she took in his drunken words as she gave him a little a smile — swallowing the depreciating joke she was close to making as she took a sip of her drink.

“thank you hank.” y/n nodded out calmly as wade butted in.

“—fucking hell, incoming for angry jacob twilight wannabe.” wade cursed out as y/n’s gaze moved over wade following his eyes to where he was looking, her heart feeling as if it was flipping and twisting in her chest as she watched logan walk into the bar games room as she furrowed her eyebrows at the sight of jean following him angrily. her looking perfect as ever.

yet before y/n could think another thought she locked eyes with logan from across the room — their eyes meeting as she felt a weight lift immediately onto her as she swallowed a lump that formed in her throat at just the sight of him. it felt as if time has frozen just as they looked to each other , his eyes taking everything about her in as she did the same his way.

he practically immediately walked over, more like stomped over, as he seemed clearly agitated. more then usual as his eyes dawned onto wade and hank before resting back to y/n as he stopped in his tracks in front of the seated three.

“who thought getting a teenager shitfaced was a good idea?” logan nearly growled out, giving wade a glare as y/n’s eyes lingered back on jean who saw who he was talking to and turned away her being even more pissed then him, y/n holding the urge to go into her mind and find out why as she brung her gaze onto logan after seeing jean walk off somewhere else in the room, her patience clearly wearing thin. her wanting to make a little childish comment about how she wasn’t when wade spoke up.

“gods probably.” wade rolled out in reply as logan scoffed at what he said.

“y/n.” logan said, her eyes meeting his own as she took in his appearance. her eyes lingering on the chain that was wrapped around his neck — one he told her was something jean gave him when he first became an xmen, something he hasn’t worn in months, this fact only making her feel a number of horrible thoughts as she grabbed her drink and took a mean swig. swallowing her own building self pity as she forced a fake smile logan immediately knew to be fake.

“hi.” she said swiftly after she put her drink back down on the table — his eyebrow raising a little at her hostility as he looked to wade, hank the back to her.

“uh—“ logan spoke up, trying to find the words to say as he looked at her a bit lost for words at how she was acting as he swallowed a lump that had formed in his throat — feeling his frustration rise as he tried to control it, “where have you been?” he said lowly, hank raising his eyebrow at how this little conversation seemed weirdly tension filled. wade knew why, he could’ve called her little feelings for him back when she first met the guy but now he couldn’t help see how serious it was because off the way she was looking at him and how it was affecting her.

he couldn’t even brung himself to but in as he buried himself in his drink. hank doing the same.

“i’ve been busy. but i’ve been around— i saw you two days ago.” she said quickly, shifting in her seat a little as his eyes almost felt as if they burnt through her.

“you didn’t stay,” he said taking a pause as he looked at her, taking in just how intoxicated she seemed as he tried to analyse it, “like you uh- normally, do.”

his words touched a nerve on y/n as she felt that all familiar heart ache grow y/n trying to act as if the feeling inside her wasn’t killing her right now and ripping her to shreds as she kept her gaze on him, his eyes on her making her think and feel a number of things she hated.

“—had somewhere to be.” she replied quickly, his eyebrows raising at her bluntness to her reply as he knew something was off. he sensed it, the drunkness only adding to his worry as he went to step closer when he was cut off by a voice behind him.

y/n eyes dawned on the sight off jean, a tight silver dress on showcasing her curves as her red hair flowed down by her side as she looked at logan who hadn’t even brung himself to met her gaze yet. y/n immediately being hit with a truck load of insecurities just with a glance to the older women who had the only guy she’d ever loved wrapped around her finger.

y/n’s heart feeling as if it was stepped on as she kept her gaze on him — time feeling a little slow motion.

“logan—now.” jean said harshly.

“lo- logan.” she said again, y/n not leaving logan’s gaze as he swallowed his own spit as he eventually brung his gaze over to jean.

“logan— he knows.” she said harshly, her words a little quiet as they were clearly just meant for logan’s ears yet y/n heard them. “now! come on?” she questioned out frustratedly, saying that to grip his attention as logan looked to jean then back to y/n, wade and hank watching like it was a drama.

the air felt thick with some sort of something as y/n swallows, her eyes on him as he bit down on the inside of his cheek.

“be careful kid, remember to slow down.” he rolled out before he turned away with jean going right to her side as y/n scoffed as he walked off turning her attention back to the barmaid — not feeling logan’s eyes burning back to her as he took a long glance her way before disappearing off with jean into the party to sort whatever was happening.

y/n rolled her eyes the second she turned her attention back over to the bar as she looked down at the bar table, swallowing her thoughts down with the rest of her vodka as she felt the others eyes on her. they sensed on the tension — it was impossible not too.

“so they’re fucking again.” hank commented lowly and cluelessly. his words being like a gut punch to y/n as she bit down on her tongue as she called back over the barmaid, leaning over and ordering a couple shots as she sat back down in her seat.

“mm, most definitely.. hell for scott.” wade ushered out lowly, feeling a sense of guilt as he saw the way y/n’s eyes fell as y/n tried to mute out their conversation in the background as she welcomed the shots with open arms as she pulled the tray closer to her as she heard wade and hank whisper behind her as they leant over to gossip about the rumours of jean and scott being over as y/n’s heart felt as if it was plummeting and beating as fast as it ever had with every shot she took. the information she was hearing just making her internal pain grow worse as she tried to drink it away every shot seemingly enhancing her hurt as the metal images she were getting hurt her brain as she felt the urge to do something about it.

her mind full of relentless unlimited thoughts that were screaming at her as she placed the last empty shot glass she had down — the shots helping limit the voices to some extent as the barmaid came over and refilled them without another word most likely sensing her anguish as y/n nodded to her with as much of a smile she could muster up as she thought back to the conversation with logan.

“we’re going to dance— you coming?” wade spoke to y/n as that brung her out her gaze with the bottom of the shot glass as she shook her head, “no—thanks,” she slurred out as hank gave her a small nod and pat on the shoulder before they disappeared of into the crowd leaving her alone after saying their be right backs— her lips immediately around another glass as she finished the rest of the drinks thay were laid out in front-of her.

y/n either needed fresh air and a sick bucket or the man she loved and craved, and she was going with the latter. her desires only heightened which was making just about everything worse due to the mess the alcohol had started to cause her brain and body.

her heart pounding as she stood up, everything going messy and spin like as she stumbled through the crowd. her mind on one thing and one thing only, one person, as she got pushed around a bit by the dancing people as she made her way out the bar room she was in. her eyes searching the place as she looked for him in every corner, in every face, every person, every laugh, every grunt and every noise. she was searching for him like she had been doing within her heart ever since she’d know the man.

yet what she didn’t expect to see when she turned the corner was him right there. logan right there in his bubble of perfection as she saw it. her eyes taking him in as she saw him in the hallway — a smile joining her lips as she started to walk over to him planning what she was going to say in her brain. how she was going to do any of this? she didn’t even know what she had planned, she just wanted to speak to him. she needed to see his smile. she missed it. she wanted to make him laugh like usual, she wanted to kiss him, feel his touch. she needed it, it was destroying her to not have him. why was she ignoring him for the past two weeks? she should just tell him. nothing bad could hap—

“mine.” she swore she could make out logan saying, her eyebrows furrowing in pure confusion as she took one little step closer to where he was as her eyes dawned on a certain red head with a killer smirk on her lips as she had a tight grip on his chain.

and with that every thought she just had was crushed within the space of five or so seconds as she heard jean’s light hearted chuckle next, her voice grating against y/n’s mind as she swallowed her own spit back down as she made sure she couldn’t be seen by them. feeling the sick feeling rising in her as she watched logan’s hands wrap around jean’s waist as she pulled him closer to her in a teasing action that broke y/n’s heart in two.

she was frozen in her tracks, watching as the one she loved was with the one he loved.

“you’re mine.” ringing in her ears as she just made out what he had said to jean as his words sent a chill through y/n’s body as she felt the tears start to boil in her eyes as she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the scene. her mouth fallen gap as she watched as he roughly had her against the door jean’s hand going down to the handle of said door as y/n watched as jean pulled him in the room with her roughly.

the door slamming behind them as she felt her beating out her chest, her breath shaky and hitched as she swallowed.

and when she heard a little squeal come from the room over the music a few seconds or minutes later, she couldn’t tell how long had passed, that’s when she knew she needed to go before she turned into a public laughing stock as she turned on her heel — shakily making her way through the crowd again, unbeknownst to the tears dropping down her cheeks as she fought her way through the dancing crowd as she tried to get the hell out of here as she thought she was fighting back her emotions, yet she really wasn’t doing too good of a job with it.

“watch it!” someone yelled out over the music to y/n as she shuffled past them quickly, stumbling out and disappearing through the back door as she made her break for it. her heart feeling broken to an extreme it hadn’t felt before which was only amplified by the alcohol as she felt her brain chemistry formed for logan be destroyed within a matter of moments. seeing it in front of her own eyes being completely different from assuming it had happened.

the fact they were doing that right now she just couldn’t and didn’t want too comprehend it. it hurting her so much she felt as if she was going to be sick, she could feel it to the extremist point that when she managed her way to the end of the courtyard where her little spot was with her childhood swing set, where she’s surprised she even remembered the whereabouts off in this state, she couldn’t stop herself from leaning down into a bush shakily.

her mouth watering, her throat burning with liquid as y/n threw up into the bush her heart pounding ridiculously as she felt the tears burning against her cheek as she didn’t even notice the feeling off two strong hands holding her hair back. her body shaking as she kept being sick, feeling the acid burn her throat as she felt a strong hand round her hair pulling it into a ponytail and another hand around her fragile body to keep her up.

her body flinching a little at the touch as the person leaned a little closer as y/n was sick some more, “it’s okay—“ a low voice ushered out as y/n couldn’t help be sick again, leaning down closer into the bush nearly tripping into it as the person held her upright. their hand snacking onto her waist as y/n leaned back into their touch. basically tripping into it as she let out a shaky breath as she wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her top.

her eyes moving up onto an all familiar face and she instantly cursed in her brain as he managed to move her over to the swings, sitting her down in one of two seats as she clung to the chain of it leaning her body against it freely as she let out a little cry.

“you’re good.” scott said softly his voice low as he spoke into a comforting tone that didn’t completely soothe her as she felt the tears trail down her cheek as he kneeled down — his hands stabilising the swing that was rocking a little as he looked up at her making sure she was okay on the swing. the cold air hitting the twos faces as the moon shone down on the courtyard, the faint sound of pop music from the mansion being completely distant to both of them.

“scott.” she managed to say, him being able to tell how far gone she was by the way she slurred her words as if her crying and throwing up didn’t prove that enough. his eyes on her as he moved her hair out the way for her, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear as she held back a little sob which wasn’t held back that well as she let out a shaky whimper.

“w-why— doesn-t he love me?” she spoke out quickly, her breath shaky and her voice high pitched as she let out little sniffles in between words, the weight of those making a sad smile tug on scott’s lips as he kept his hand on her face trying to keep her upright which was sort of impossible as he kept his comforting warm hand against her face. just trying to make her feel okay.

“—he—“ scott cut himself off before he moved closer to her, trying to keep her calm, “he does love you okay?”

y/n shook her head at scott’s words as she let out a muffled sob against her wrist, shaking her head as scott wiped the tears from her cheeks. “not like i want him to.” she rolled out in a slur, scott feeling his heart beat quicken at her little admission as if he didn’t know how she felt over him before as he moved his finger across her cheek in a soft circular motion, his hand cupping her jaw.

“hey- he does okay?” scott said quickly as he moved her jaw down so she met his eyes again, his tone soft as he moved himself to the other swing next to her — the second he was sat him moving his swing closer to her own. tangling the chains of his swing up a little in doing so.

“he does.” scott added out again, y/n not believing him at all as she swallowed a lump that had formed in her throat as she leaned herself again the hand that was cupping her face as she nearly tumbled off the swing.

her biting down on her tongue as she let out a little squeal as scott placed his hand on her back supporting and holding her up as a little chuckle left her lips as she leaned forward a little. scott not letting his hand move as worry was evident on his face as y/n turned to him a sad smile on her lips, tears still evident on her face.

“i wish.” he heard her whisper as he swallowed, his own voice breaking a little, “come on. okay? he doesn’t know what he’s missing right now.— he doesnt see you liking him.” scott said softly, giving her a little playful nudge as y/n started to lose the energy to even speak off it as she felt another tear slip down her cheek.

his words were taking the weight off her shoulders as she moved in the swing a little, scott’s comforting hand on her back which was now sort off around her waist making her sure she wasn’t going to fall as she moved a tiny bit closer to him on her swing. their swings touching a little.

“you deserve better then jean-y bitch.” she managed out lowly, scott not being able to help the chuckle that escaped his lips at how she put it as he looked out at the mansion in front of them. the moon present in his red tinted glasses.

“yeah— i’m starting to realise that.” he chuckled out as y/n gave him a drunken smile in return as she locked eyes with scott. someone she’d hardly noticed was this nice mostly due to the words logan remarked about him all the time as her smile couldn’t help but grow as she looked at him. the air softening between the two as y/n felt tiredness fall over her as she leant against the chains a little as she slowly moved her gaze over to the moon.

a few moments of silence passes before scott spoke up.

“y/n?” scott managed out trying to grab her attention as he saw he eyes wondering a bit. his eyebrows furrowing when he heard no answer in return, her silence scaring him as he nudged her.

“y/n?” he quickly said out once again, nudging her a little as he saw how limp her body was and noticed her closed eyes.

“fuck— y/n.” he ushered out quickly as he stood from his seat and went right to her side as he kneeled down, tapping her face to try and catch her attention. y/n stirring a little at his action as he stood up, pulling her up with him as he placed his hand around her waist as he tried to shake her a little which did the job as her eyes fluttered open to meet his own.

a drunken smile joining on her lips as a tear dropped down her cheek that she didn’t even notice as she chuckled a little, leaning close to him as she swayed a little.

“scott.” she said lowly as scott gave her a low chucke as she placed her arm around him drunk on, him wiping the tear of her cheek softly something he’d done a number of times since being in her presence tonight.

“okay it’s time to go sleep— im taking you to bed.” he explained softly as y/n looked at him with a little furrowed brow as he started to walk, helping her walk alongside him her hardly even able to realise she was walking as she leaned against his touch.

“you’re good.” he said calmly to her as they walked through the dark courtyard, the illuminated by the moon field of grass between them and the bustling school /xmansion being the only light to guide them. his grip on her tightening softly when she nearly tripped over her own feet, a low chuckle escaping his lips as he realised just how long of a walk it was to the mansion. him sighing as he held her upright. “nearly there.” he muffled out as y/n leaned to him.

“—‘m gonna be sick.” she quickly flushed out before throwing her head over in the other direction as scott patted her back and stopped in his tracks at her words as she was sick again — him holding the urge got to be sick too because the smell as he focused on helping her. his heart skipping a beat bit as he felt his anger growing over logan putting her in this situation where she was so drunk she was being sick or the fact that she was being sick just thinking about logan it made his blood boil as he felt his jaw clench — his eyebrows twitching as he helped her get it all out, whispering little comforts as he soothed her back.

“good girl. “ he said lowly as y/n brung her gaze into him once more him giving her a small sad smile as he placed his hand back around her waist to guide her, “cmon, bed.” he whispered out to her as they started walking again. having to go through the party definitely going to be a difficult task as scott tightened his grip around her waist as they walked past a couple people hanging around the outside area of the building as the music met y/n’s ears as once they got into the building scott called for people to move out the way as he made y/n stay close to him. her eyes wondering over everyone in her drunken haze as scott helped her over to the staircase which was through a couple wide, filled rooms.

her swearing she came across wade and hank in the corner with two twins and colossus’s doing a certain something to wade, her eyebrows furrowing at what she believed to have just seen as she shook it off as she met scott’s words.

“you need to be carried or are you okay?” scott asked as if he was babying her which sent a wave of comfort through her body as she let the question hang in her brain as she tried to form answer to it as she leaned herself against scott.

“‘u—‘i can—“

“scarlett?” logan roughly called out in a raised voice towards scott as he came over out of nowhere. scott rolling his eyes as he quickly picked y/n up, y/n being in scott’s arms as her eyes fluttered open to see logan to the side of them. scott’s jaw immediately clenching as he continued up the stairs without cracking a word to logan as he rushed after the pair. his own anger frustratingly high as he tried to control himself and stop himself from doing anything stupid.

“scott?” logan said harshly, his anger growing as he didn’t get an answer as he tried to get the man to look at him.

“lo-“ y/n slipped out, her voice muffled as she leaned into scott’s arms more as he carried her bridal style up the stairs. her realising his presence, logan’s eyes casting onto y/n and then back to scott. his eyes darkening.

“what have you done to her?!” logan rushed out, his voice cracking with worry as scott ignored his words as he made it to the top of the stairs and continued on down to where he’s pretty sure her room is.

“scott!” logan shouted again trying to get his attention as scott opened the door with his back, giving logan a harsh glare as he walked right over to the bed where he placed y/n down carefully on it. her drunken self pouring the cover over her figure as she rolled over in bed. letting out a little muffled whimper as her head laid on the pillow.

the second scott having let go off y/n he immediately turned to logan scott not giving logan another chance to talk before he connected his fist with his jaw, logan been taken aback a little as he raised an eyebrow, scott looking right at him as logan pushed him back harshly.

“what the fuck did you do?” logan cursed out quickly, scott scoffing as he held back taking his glasses off because of the fact it was a party, not logan’s funeral even despite how much he wanted it to be.

“you should ask yourself that, prick.” scott said harshly. logan’s eyebrows raising at his words as scott pushed himself past logan without another word.

logan immediately grabbing scott’s arm harshly, his claws aching to come out as he met his gaze.

“what do you mean by that?” logan said quickly, his eyes locked onto scott’s as so many questions flowed his brain. his thoughts enlaced with y/n and the worry he had for the girl as scott harshly brung his hand back to his side after shaking logan’s grip off — giving logan a stern look as he looked him up and down judgementally, “god, you are so stupid. you’d think being born in the 19th century would make you slightly smarter then a twenty nine year old.” scott scoffed out lowly, his words only angering logan more as he shoved scott against the wall.

his claws extending as he pressed them close to his throat — his threat there as scott swallowed.

“tell me.” he said harshly as scott couldn’t help a certain look cross his face. completely frustrated by logan, his heart aching for jean in this moment as he stared at what she had clearly picked over himself that enraging him yet also y/n and what she had just gone through herself. the heart ache something he could relate too and he wouldn’t wish that on anyone. yet right now he would logan however.

“she saw you and jean you idiot. meaning i did too. meaning— fuck you.” scott said quickly as he clicked his visor getting the right aim, logan jumping back as scott lazered his chest. his beam going right through as a loud grunt escaped his lips as logan in immediate retaliation clawed scott in the side, scott pushing back the whimper threatening to leave his lips as logan as he got ready to take another shot at the man.

logan raising his eyebrow as the two stared eachother down, “i’ll heal,” logan rolled out his words only angering scott worse as he went to raise his glasses again as logan roughly placed his hand on his chest to stop him, his claws retracted back in.

“i wish you wouldn’t.” scott bit out harshly as logan scoffed at his words, keeping his anger limited as he rolled his eyes.

“jean only needed someone to talk too—“

“you mean fuck.” scott said out harshly, jean crossing logan’s mind as his jaw clenched his gaze darkening as he couldn’t bring himself to shake his head. not that he was thinking about scott’s feelings — right now his mind pondering on another.

scott saw how logan couldn’t even fight back with words — tutting as he pushed him back. logan’s hands falling to his side as the two didn’t break eye contact.

“you know we’re engaged.” scott spit out like venom, his words causing a look of surprise to wash over logan’s face as his mouth fell open, “well we were.” he added out.

“you were— what?” logan fumbled out, confusion written on his face as scott rolled his eyes at his reaction. not that he cared deep down, but it felt like he did right now.

“great.. she didn’t tell you. like she didn’t tell anyone,” he said lowly, “not that it makes it any better what you’ve done,” scott casted out as a few seconds finding passed as he tried to find the words which only come out anger filled, “she’s a caniving cheating bitch.” scott cursed out, logan not bringing himself to react to the words scott ushered about jean as he looked at scott.

logan was about to say something to scott when the sound of y/n’s soft little snores filled the room which made the tension even higher as scott and logan glared at eachother.

“maybe just think next time before you fuck someone else’s girl, again.” scott managed out as he pushed past logan to leave the room.

“i don’t think she’s your girl.” logan called back out before he left as scott’s jaw clenched at his words as he opened the door.

“not anymore. you can have her.” he said harshly as he paused as he knew he had to say something.

“—just think about how y/n feels, because i know hurts.” scott spoke lowly as he left without another word clearly implying a certain fact.

logans heart skipped a beat at his words as the door shut behind scott, his mind feeling as if it was in a war as the tension built in the room immediately. the air feeling thick as he swallowed his own spit not bringing himself to call something back to him as his words couldn’t even bring themselves to form right in his brain yet alone out loud.

his eyes dawned back onto the sleeping girl y/n laying there. looking so soft and innocent, completely sound asleep and his heart couldn’t help twang a little as he bit down on the inside of his cheek — many bustling thoughts cursing his brain as he wished he had never thought of them.

his mind lingering on the thought of jean and what just occurred within him and scott as he came down from the pain that was inflicted on him his chest rising rapidly to a more normal flow as he healed. as he focused his gaze on y/n as he furrowed his eyebrows over what scott had said, trying to wrap his brain around it.

logan’s eyes dawning on y/n. guilt seeping through him as he felt his heart gain that aching feeling y/n had been riddled with since the day she first realised she was in love with the man as he sat on the foot of the bed. his mind feeling melted as he placed his hand on her own his big, gruff and rough feeling hand taking the soft touch of her hand into his own grip. her hand being half if not less of his size as he soothed her. her touch being another level of comfort he didn’t recall experiencing since he was a young boy that feeling sending memories flooding through his brain he couldn’t focus on now.

feeling all the emotions boiling up he’d been fighting to push down as he looked down at her asleep body. what was all of this? she had been distant, almost rude and very cold and scott’s words were making that why question he had on his mind for the past two weeks clearer.

the implication of scott’s words hung in his mind as he looked at her. him eventually bringing himself over to the spare place next to her in the bed not wanting to leave her alone for the night too worried about how drunk she was and if anything could happen in the night.. or anyone else drunkily walking in. but he couldn’t help deep down in knowing that those were just excuses to stay within her presence. asleep or not.

carefully building a gap between the two of them as he laid down — no matter how strong the urge to hug her and comfort her was — as he let out a rough exhale as he closed his eyes.

only to open them three seconds later to look at her. his eyes not leaving her peacefully asleep body for the rest of the night.

[elysianightsss]

Mouth watering sundress

Summary: John gives you a ride home from work, and his phone number…

It was the car ride from hell.

John drove with one hand on the steering wheel and one on the clutch, his truck smelled just like him. Oak wood, cigars and spiced oranges. It had a musky undertone that made you shift in your seat, thighs clenching uncomfortably. The Chevy he drove somehow didn’t surprise you and the country music quietly playing from the radio didn’t surprise you either. 

His plaid button up shirt and loose blue jeans had you staring. You could see where the muscles were too big for his shirt when he changed gears it looked like it was going to rip. You wondered what it would feel like to have those muscular arms wrapped around your body.

You played with the hem of your floral sundress, tracing the little flowers while you scolded yourself for thinking such things about your gorgeous neighbour. 

“How was work?” John asked with gentle curiosity, his big hand moving the clutch to change gear.

“It was okay.” You shrugged glancing out of the window only to look back at him and see a frown on his face.

“Just okay?” His eyebrows rose as he watched little old Doris pull out in front of him in her mini with no indication whatsoever.

“Yeah. I mean my job consists of listening to people complain on the phone and trying to fix their issues. It was pretty boring, only gets good when you get the screamers.” You laugh, watching the forest trees pass by as he drives.

“Screamers?” He asks, a small laugh coming out himself, though you picked up the concern dithering there. Tricks of the trade.

“People who start shouting or screaming down the phone as soon as you answer. Mostly cause they haven’t got they wanted from the company yet.” You explain, saying it so casually.

“That doesn’t sound too fun.”

“Maybe not fun but definitely an interesting change. Gives me something to think about on the weekends too. Maybe if I should have responded differently. How can I better my answers for next time it happens.” Your brows furrow slightly realising how pathetic you just sounded.

“No friends to make your weekends interesting?”he cleared his throat hoping he wasn’t too obvious here, “or boyfriend.” He glanced quickly at you out of the corner of his eyes to catch you cracking a small smile making one grow on his face too. So infectious.

“Some friends but they work on the weekends. And I don’t have a boyfriend.” That had John shifting into the wrong gear the car making a loud scraping noise, he scrambled to quickly rectify the situation before the car stalled.

“Fiance? Husband?” He grimaced saying it, if felt like a dirty word on his tongue, leaving a bitter after taste that quickly disappeared when he spotted no ring on your finger.

“Nope. Completely and pathetically single.” You sighed, not dramatic, but simply a deep breath that showed how tired you were from everything. And boy you were tired. Exhausted from the emotional stress of life.

“Oh?” His interest clear, just as much as his curiosity was.

“Every time I like a guy or even think about entering into a relationship, it always fucks up in a monumental way and I always end up hurt. Every single time.” You let out another tired sigh. It was hard to be single when both your friends had partners, always the third wheel. It made you really hate life at the moment. Though you suppose you’d been in worse positions than in a Chevy with your large, handsome neighbour.

You pulled up to a traffic light, John pulling up the hand break before turning to look at you with a deep seriousness gleaming not only in his eyes but on his face, his body language, his entire demeanour had become the embodiment of seriousness.

“I would never hurt you. Ever.” He was so earnest. It made your heart ache, yearn for the kind of man you’d always wanted but never had. Always boys, never men.

The light turned green just as you let out a shaky breath, fingers lacing together in your lap picking at your nails in nervousness. Heat rising on your cheeks when his hand reached over to lay itself on top of yours for a few moments before pulling your hands apart, “Don’t do that. You’ll ruin those pretty hands.” He lets go just as he looks deep into your eyes, “and we can’t have that can we.”

You didn’t know what to say, the glint in his eyes, the way he tipped his head to the side a bit. Fuck, he looked wonderful. You steeled yourself and consumed every bit of self confidence you had, “You think my hands are pretty?” You stared at him, blinking a few times, definitely not fluttering your lashes. Your eyes flickered to where his jaw seemed to clench tightly for a few moments.

The intensity was building as he leaned in closer to you, it had a burning feeling building in your stomach, a fluttering you’d never experienced before the longer he stared into your eyes

Before he could even open his mouth in reply the beeping of horns from the cars behind started going off. You cleared your throat turning to face the front of the car, “The lights green John.”

“Mhm.” It’s short. Sweet. And so fucking sexy. His voice gravely and low, rumbling in his chest as he hums. Prolonging his gaze upon you just a few more moments before he turns back to the steering wheel and begins driving off.

You quietly let out a breath you hadn’t realised had built up, it did nothing however to ease the fluttering in your stomach. Only seemed to make the nausea worsen. You made a point of not picking at your nails, instead you lay your hands over your thighs, the feeling of your skin and the material of your sundress distracting you enough to not see smirk that graced John’s lips.

John lips, those luscious kissable lips that seemed almost hidden away by the full beard that had grown around his mouth. Like some forbidden fruit hidden just enough in the garden of Eden. He seemed like some forbidden fruit.

He stopped the car just outside your house, getting out to open the car door for you to get out. “Thank you for the ride home.”

“Anytime sweetheart.” He gazed down at you, his height even more daunting now that he was standing. His whole being was just large. That was the best way to describe him.

-

Honestly, you thought about him for the rest of the evening and all night. You thought about his muscles, the way they stretched the fabric of his shirt over the skin. The way his hands seemed to dwarf everything, you wondered how big they would look holding yours. You thought about the way he smirked after calling your hands pretty. You thought about the way his blue eyes glistened when he gave you his phone number.

It was all you thought about. All that was on your mind with no way to get rid of it, no sign that the brazen thoughts would ever leave you. It was like your own personal brand of torture.

Even when you finally managed to drift off, you dreamed of him. Dreamed that he would touch you the way you wanted him to. That he would kiss you desperately, achingly. You were hungry to be touched by him, so hungry that even the very thought of tasting him made you feel nauseous. It had been so long since anything had touched you, that your body had grown accustom to the emptiness that gnawed at you day in, day out.

But maybe it was just what you needed, to push past the sickness. To hold on tight to the warmth that wanted to cover you, that wanted to wrap itself around you. But you couldn’t help but push it away, say no in cruel anticipation of the inevitable. Love is a tender kiss for most people. For you she saves her sharpest axe.

Waking up was humbling, how groggy and unhinged you felt after a night of thinking and dreaming of John. Rolling over in bed you unplugged your phone and began to scroll through your notifications. Your heart jumping in your chest at the sight of a new text; from John.

John: Hey pretty girl. 7:36am. read.

Holy shit, he’d text you this morning. Was it when he first woke up? He was he thinking about you all night too? This man is something else.

John: No reply already? I thought I would’ve had to say something stupid first before you ignored me sweetheart. ;) 9:41am. read.

You: Sorry, got distracted. How’d you sleep? 9:42am. read.

John: Like a log. You? 9:42am. read.

You: Could use a couple more hours honestly. 9:43am. read.

John: What do you have planned today sweetheart? 9:45am. read.

What did you have planned today? Rolling around in bed thinking about a well built beast with thick mutton chops. So enthralled with the simple idea of John.

Fuck you’d never met a man so….well manly. His big muscles and his thick musky scent that screamed masculine in the most primal way possible. In every circumstance, in every part of the world and every century, he would be the ideal mate. To protect and provide-

The ringing makes you jump, the phone vibrating in your hand as you see the unfamiliar number only just added to your phone. You breathe in sharply for a moment, blowing out shakily, hands beginning to sweat. And it’s not even him in person, it’s just a phone call.

“It’s just a phone call. You can press the end button at any time.” You tell yourself, reassuring yourself before sliding your thumb along the screen, the answer swipe turning green. You put the cold screen to your ear. “John?”

“I got impatient.” His voice sounded so low and deep, must be that its first thing in the morning.

“Sorry. Got lost in my thoughts.” You mumble picking at the sheets surrounding you.

“Anything you wanna share? Or is it too soon to be prying into that pretty head of yours.”

“God you’re forward.” You breathe out a little laugh, a hot feeling fluttering in your stomach.

He laughed, heartily. “I’m just wired that way love.”

“I’m not sure if I like it.”

“Oh?” John voice was light and soft, if you were really leaning into it you’d notice the tinge of disappointment in the sound.

“It’s catching me off guard. I like to keep my cards close to my chest.” You swirled your finger along the pattern of the crocheted pillow in front of you.

“I’d happily let you play me.”

“John.” You breathe out another laugh, your heart skipping a beat.

“Like that,” he huffed low and wild, “like when you say my name. Sounds so nice coming from you.”

“It does?”

“Well with a pretty voice like that, I’m sure you can make anything sound nice.” He chuckled. And fuck you had to mute with how you giggled, kicking your feet with giddiness.

“So you want to go for lunch?” The rumbly bearish throaty sexy voice melted your knees until they felt like jelly.

“Again with the forwardness.” Your flushed cheeks hurt, couldn’t wipe the grin off your face, and he could hear it.

“I’m a man who knows what he wants and goes for it.” John answered without so much as a thought, the answer coming so naturally.

“I’ll consider it.” You pressed the red button and jumped in the shower, cold and brisk. It was the only way to bring your burning body temperature down.

John was unlike anybody you’d ever met, definitely better than an of your exs and you hadn’t even gotten to the deep stuff yet.

You wrapped a towel around your body and began to dry your hair with your other towel when you noticed your phone light up, a nervous grin tugging at your lips as you picked up the device and read the text.

John: Considered it yet? 10:02. read.

You shook your head, teeth biting into your smile. He was so unashamed and so bold. It made you question yourself, made you want more than you had once had. Made you want him.

You: I’d love to have lunch with you. 10:04am. read.

John: I’ll pick you up in an hour, wear that mouth watering sundress again ;) 10:04am. delivered.

Mouth watering sundress? Fuck, no one had ever said that to you before. Hell no one had ever offered so many compliments in one conversation before. He was truly a man of different breed. You giggled again falling into your bed and kicking your feet in the air, he was such a flirt. You loved it.

[i-cant-sing]

Okay but I need yall to help me figure out the character(s) for the following scenario:

Imagine a romantic yandere falling for reader, and ofc reader isn't in love with yandere for obvious reasons like red flags. Maybe they did try dating, Yandere is a charmer, comes from a rich family, he's smart and hardworking and oh so head over heels in love with you. He's always taking you out on best dates, HAS to get you the largest fucking bouquets (excellent taste in flowers) and buys you expensive but well thought out gifts.

But for whatever reason, things dont work out and you break things off hastily and most likely over the phone before leaving the country. And yandere just- breaksdown. I mean my man does not have a good mental health as is, but you leaving, actually leaving him just breaks him down and he has a full blown panic attack.

I'm talking about yandere falling to his knees, clutching his chest and gasping for air, tears streaming down his face as he screams your name like a mad man. His family, they love him, they adore their son/brother/grandchild sm, it pains them to see him in such a miserable state. Yandere man is so delirious that he has to be sedated, tranquillised by medical professionals because he's just losing his fucking mind, babbling your name over and over again like a mad man. His condition only worsens as time passes, and so his family decides to take drastic measures because they can't see their beloved son/brother/grandkid so fucking dead and depressed and a shell of a once bright man. They love him so much, they only want ti see him happy, so they use their money and influence to track you down and try to convince you to return and take yandere back. When you refuse, they take the high way and force you to come with them, dragging you kicking and screaming to their private jet and fly all the way home, where yandere is.

You're in a dishevelled state, tears running down your cheeks as you struggle to free yourself from their grasps as they take you to yandere. And when yandere sees you... for the first time in months, his family sees the light return in his eyes as the yandere reaches out for you, scared that you're just his mind playing tricks. When he finally touches you, he is immeadiately pulling you into a hug, arms tightening around your body like a gilded cage as he cries into your shoulder and thanks his family for bringing you back. His family only smiles with tears in their eyes as they lock the door behind them when they leave, so that you don't go running away. Meanwhile, yandere has pulled you into his lap and he's looking at you with such sad eyes, staring at each feature of yours over and over again as if to memorise it all again. He can't help the tears that continue to slip out of his eyes, maybe he's crying that you're finally here, or maybe he's crying for all the time that's been lost when you weren't here. You fall asleep soon due to exhaustion, but yandere doesn't sleep a wink that night because he continues to stare at you and play with your hair very gently, finally closing his eyes when morning comes and he wraps his arms around you and traps your legs with his.

By now, you guys realise that the yandere's family is not only yandere for their son/brother/grandson but also for you. They are yandede for you too, but they're not allowing you to leave them or their son or even make him unhappy ever again. Some members are willing to let all you "tantrums" slide, while others are not so kind. BUT one thing is for sure, you're ALWAYS safe with yandere s/o, no matter what.

Now, for the characters I've had in kind for this scenario are:

Halim Mehmet Shah and the Shah Family (my ocs)

Dabi/Shotou and Todoroki clan (I am the OG creator of Yandere Todoroki Clan)

I wanna say Naoya or Toji but the Zenin clan hates them both....

Dick Grayson/Jason Todd and Batfam

What do you guys think?

Mood board for this scenario^^^(I love Pinterest)

[ba9go]

bakugou katsuki finds you annoying (he can’t stop thinking about you) pt. 1

sort-of enemies to lovers with bakugou katsuki <3

read part 2 💥 part 3 (nsfw)

from the very moment you walked into the 1-a classroom, you set off a ticking time bomb in bakugou katsuki. he hated your guts.

it was early in the morning, with about 20 minutes till class started. bakugou was seated in his chair, leaning back with his eyes closed, when all of a sudden he hears this agitating, grating voice.

his eyes snapped open and flicked to the source of the sudden noise.

you.

you stood in the doorway, bowing and apologising refusely to fucking icyhot for running into him. bakugou took one look at your stature next to todoroki’s and huffed. ‘idiot walks into a wall and apologises. what a dimwit.’

bakugou watches as todoroki awkwardly but earnestly bows back at you with a murmured apology of his own. you pause mid-bow to shake your head, “no, no, no, this was entirely my fault!” and bakugou thinks he can feel his temple twitch when you start laughing. “god, i’m sorry, we just look so stupid right now!”

‘damn right you do, fucking morons.’ bakugou tears his gaze away from your bright smiling face and spams the volume-up button on his phone until ears (jirou) can actually overhear travis scott from his earphones and flinches beside him.

bakugou closes his eyes and sighs through his nostrils. it’s way too fucking early for this.

later that day, aizawa-sensei announces that you’d be joining class 1-a as u.a.’s newest transfer student, and invites you to introduce yourself in front of the class.

you stood beside aizawa and introduce yourself with yet another beaming smile. your bright eyes roam around the classroom from face to face as you address your new classmates, until they land on bakugou, who narrows his eyes and glares at you.

bakugou feels a strange sense of satisfaction, watching you stutter mid-sentence, and he thinks you’re such an idiot, but then your eyes quickly dart away to look elsewhere and bakugou is somehow even more pissed off by you.

so he grinds his teeth and tears his gaze away from you once more to look out the window.

the rest of the week goes smoothly for you as you quickly befriended the class. with the exception of one, everyone seemed friendly and warm and genuinely interested to get to know more about you and your quirk. likewise, you were just as curious and enthusiastic about getting to know your classmates. with the exception of one.

you ignored bakugou like the plague — just as he’d wanted, bakugou thinks. you’re an eyesore, the way you’re all smiley and giggly, all of the damn time. bakugou hates it, hates the look in your eyes, like you’re so damn happy and you’re somehow just always having the time of your damn life.

‘just another fucking weakling who won’t last.’

it doesn’t take bakugou a long time to realise that his judgement of you was entirely off. you were in fact, not a weakling. you were strong, and you proved it every single time, putting your all in every training and going above and beyond with your hand stretched out to anyone who needed it, all the while with that damn smile on your face.

one training, bakugou busted one of his gauntlets. he had expected it, had already sensed that something was off when he was gearing up before training. he cursed under his breath and went to remove it, when you suddenly spawned by his side and scared the living shit out of him.

not that he’d ever admit it, but hearing your voice was enough to make his hair stand on end.

“hey, um, do you need help with that?” you asked, and bakugou freezed as you looked at him with those big, innocent eyes. “your gear, i mean.”

“hah?” bakugou flares up instinctively. it’s his default response to being approached, after all. “the fuck do you know about fixing jackshit?”

“oh, um, i tinker with a bunch of random stuff sometimes, so i figured maybe i could—”

“like hell i’m gonna let some idiot like you tinker with my shit,” bakugou sneers at you, and you flinch but you don’t take a step back. “find somethin’ else ta do if yer bored, sunshine.”

“sunshine— what—” you genuinely look a little concerned and even a little offended as you guffaw over bakugou’s words. “my quirk has nothing to do with sunshine!”

“hah?! ya think i’m stupid or some shit?! ‘course i know that it’s got shit to do with the sun, moron!”

“then why in the world would you call me that?!”

“i’ll call you whatever the fuck i want, shitface!”

then, class prez tenya iida dashes to break up the “fight”. “YOU TWO!!! BAKUGOU ESPECIALLY, CEASE YOUR SQUABBLING THIS INSTANT!!! SUCH PROFANITY IS NOT BECOMING OF A FUTURE—”

later that evening, you find yourself seated on the couch watching alien: covenant in the common room with kirishima, kaminara, sero and mina. however, you’re not paying much attention to whatever that egomaniac david’s doing in the movie, you’re still dwelling on how horribly your first proper interaction with bakugou had gone.

“y/n, darling, would you please tell us what’s wrong? this is, like, the tenth time you’ve sighed, and i know david is not that hot,” mina nudges your arm with an elbow. kaminari squawks in defiance, crying out that “if david’s not hot, i’m toast!” and kirishima reassuring him that he’ll be just fine, because “david’s just not manly, man!”.

“yeah, it’s not david,” you sighed yet again, and mina facepalms so hard you wince. “sorry, it’s just, i’m still a little peeved by what happened during training today.”

“bakugou, huh?” kirishima shoots you a wry smile, nodding sympathetically. “don’t mind it too much, bakugou’s just always like that!”

“i know, i know, but why the fuck did he call me sunshine?” you groaned, grabbing the nearest pillow and shoving your face into it.

“holy shit, okay, guys, this must be really bad,” kaminari shoots up from his horrendous slouched position and grabs sero’s shoulders to shake him like it’s the end of the world. “y/n just swore, and bakugou is acting up! i mean, that doesn’t sound like bakugou at all!”

“okay, firstly, kaminari, i hate to break it to you, bud, but i swear. like, a lot,” you dropped the pillow in your lap. “secondly, what do you mean bakugou’s acting up? doesn’t he call everyone names all the time?”

“yeah, insultingly,” jirou walks by the common room and chimes in. she points at the earphone jacks dangling from her ears. “i’m “ears.””

“i’m pinky,” mina hums in agreement.

“soy-sauce face,” sero deadpans.

“dunceface!” kaminari high-fives sero.

“and bakugou calls me shitty hair,” kirishima completes with a sigh. “what did he call you again?”

“moron, sunshine, and shitface, i think?” an awkward silence falls over the room, and you frown. “what? what does that mean? does he, like, really hate the sun or something?”

“…not that i know of? but it sounds like, uh,” kirishima scratches his head and gives you another one of those wry smiles. “sounds like you don’t completely piss bakugou off.”

extras:

yes that was an abby miller reference

yes i have walked into a wall yes i apologised

i REALLY wanna watch alien romulus in cinemas soon PLS NO SPOILERS

taglist (thank you for your support!!): @anicaaa67 @maddietries @valeriyaaak @v3n7s @deimosjay @zaiban2989 @girls-overflower @notmeduhh @dreamcastgirl99 @busdriver-move-that-ass @atashiboba @kathsuhki @armeenix @channnee @antiwhores @sukunasbottomlefteyeball @kenqki @vikizzy @thesimpybitch @eempxth @hanta-seros-wifey @itztaki @thekidscallmebosss

[tteokdoroki]

☆༉ — KATSUKI BAKUGOU. what’s one more?

about. now that your kids are all grown up, you’ve gotten to thinking about having another baby with bakugou again.

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, suggestive and smutty, fluffy, some dub-con, baby-trapping mention, breeding, unprotected sex mention, reader is a mother, bakugou is getting old hehe, they have three daughters lol, fem!reader, pro hero!bakugou.

i imagine that when your kids get a little older and start becoming more independent — your eldest in their final year of U.A, the middle starting U.A and the youngest still kicking in middle school….you catch a whiff of baby fever again.

it’s not even that everyone around you is having kids, most of theirs are well into their teenage years and giving your old friends trouble. it’s more that you miss the tiny pitter patter of feet throughout your house, the gummy giggles and scent of baby safe soap. oddly enough, you find yourself yearning for the late night feeds and the laughter shared over the inherent explosive bakugou diaper bombs.

speaking of your husband, you kind of hate how good he is with kids. he’s always treated your daughters like princesses, spoiling them rotten and raising their standards so that no possible crush could ever compare to the way their daddy treats them. but he’s so tender with the littler ones he visits as part of hero work, the tiny fans that ask him to sign his trading cards or their backpacks.

it’s adorable and still warms your heart to this day. to the point where you’re jumping bakugou’s bones every chance you get without actually telling him you want another one of his big headed babies. of course, he’s only a man and he’s not going to question why is wife of nearly two decades keeps presenting to him like a bitch in heat after lights out and the kids are asleep.

perhaps that’s why bakugou doesn’t question (on the one night where you have a child-free house) the way you toss away the condom, the way you take it raw and clench down on his cock like your life depends on it. why you squeal all high-pitched for him to fill you up with tears in your pretty eyes — how could he say no to you?

his pretty little wife, his lover, hot piece of ass to love and fuck to his hearts content.

what good, loving man isn’t going to cum in his wife when she begs and cries for it?

it’s not until your trained and doughy thighs lock around his slender waist to pull him into your frothing sex that bakugou realises. you’re doing this on purpose.

and by the time he does realise, he’s filling you up to the brim, sloppy white leaking out of you while you cum around him just like you always do — taking him so well, smiling up at him like you’re on top of the world.

“you fuckin’ leg locked me!” katsuki pants through amused laughter, collapsing on top of you with a sweaty and heaving chest.

“nuh-uh!” comes your quick reply, angling your hips up so that he slips deeper into you.

katsuki gets up soon after and disappears to the bathroom, not before prying your legs off of him — knowing full well he had the strength to do so earlier. if he really wanted to. “my own wife… you tried to fuckin’ baby trap me!”

“no i didn’t!” you pout defensively, brows furrowed and nose upturned. your expression only softens when your husband gives you a pointed look and moves to wipe the mess drying against your inner thighs. “okay…so what if i did?”

you loop your arms around his neck with a purr, toying with the silvery-blonde baby hairs on the back of katsuki’s neck and looking up at him with vixen eyes like you’re about to devour your prey. “we can not have another baby,” he tells you simply, kissing the crown of your head when you hiss at the sensitivity. “was i too rough?”

there’s a rasp to his voice, the kind that’s only prominent after hours of singing your praises in the bedroom. it makes you smile, close your eyes in content, and shake your head ‘no’. “why not?”

“havin’ a baby isn’t like gettin’ a puppy ‘nd you know that, sweetness,” bakugou hums quietly, soothing over the bruises he’d left on the soft handles on your waist. he thumbs at the stretch marks and tigers stripes, the very markings that show you were a mother to three of his beauties children. “we gotta focus on makin’ sure kasumi gets into a good agency, if not mine, and don’t get me started on the other two—“

“—but we could do it. right? i mean we’ve done it three times before. raised a baby, what’s one more?” you do your best to sound convincing while you sit up and cling to your man, pleading with those puppy dog eyes that got you knocked up the first time almost eighteen years ago. “don’t you want a little boy?”

“three girls are more than enough.” bakugou pushes your face away playfully, forcing you back into the sheets so he can lie on top of you. “we’re not as young—“ he starts, but back tracks after being on the receiving end of your heated glare. “i’m not as young as i was when we had our first. ‘n shit, my back hurts and my eyes are gettin’ bad, and our kids… they’re exhaustin’, babe.”

the both of you share a laugh. upon brushing a hand through his hair, katsuki trills happily at your affection. “you’re still a good dad. you’d be an even better to our next. even if you’re a little achey in the knees, old man.” though you’re teasing, you really do mean every word you say. raising your kids has been trial and error from the start, but bakugou’s been strong the entire way through — wanting nothing but the best for his family and always putting them first. “plus, the kids are with the kirishimas for an entire weekend, and you’re telling me you haven’t thought about fucking me raw again?”

“jesus woman, you’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me, aren’t you?” katsuki twitches against your leg once again, crawling up your body to capture your lips in a hungry, syrupy kiss. “you’re right,” he groans against them, loving the feeling of your tongue on his. “fuck, you’re right. spread your legs, sweetness. wanna fill this pretty pussy with my cum.”

“yes daddy…” you mewl in reply while a winning grin tacks itself to your lips l face between uncoordinated kisses and surprised moans once your husband eases his throbbing cock back inside of your tight heat. mumbling something about how it feels like home.

needless to say, neither of you are surprised when the next pregnancy test you take is positive. now you just have to explain the baby supplies in your Amazon basket to your three teenage girls.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[loveinhawkins]

The squeak of Dustin’s sneakers fades away as he heads back to the hospital parking lot, where his mom’s waiting for him.

Eddie watches the door to his room swing shut—the movement as boisterous as Dustin’s entrance had been; for the whole visit, he’d acted almost as if nothing had ever happened.

“You know,” he says once the door’s fully closed, “I kinda thought he hated me.”

He tries to make it come out like a joke—maybe then, it won’t hurt quite as much. He should’ve known that Steve would see straight through it.

“That’s not fair,” Steve says quietly, from where he sits in the corner of the room—arms folded, eyes sharp.

The silence feels damning. Eddie doesn’t dare break it: just sits there and lets it sting.

But then—

“That’s not fair,” Steve repeats, a little softer, “to him or to you.”

Eddie can’t look him in the eye. If he does, he’s going to say something that’s true but hurtful nonetheless—and God knows, he’s done more than enough damage already.

Steve sighs. Eddie can’t work out how to read him.

Maybe if he just keeps staring at the clock on the wall, Steve will give up and leave, and Eddie can keep it together until he knows that he’s alone.

“When are you going to stop?” Steve says and, damn it, Eddie’s resolve breaks in an instant; his head turns, but now Steve’s the one who’s not looking, his gaze fixed on the ceiling like he’s trying to memorise it.

(Fourteen hairline cracks on the tiles. Eddie’s counted.)

“Stop what, Steve?” Eddie says shortly. Maybe this will work instead: if he manages to hold that awful, flat tone for long enough—

“When are you going to stop punishing yourself?” Steve says. His eyes flicker across the ceiling tiles.

Eddie swallows. Forces out, hoarse, “That’s not—”

“Not what?” Steve interrupts. “Not what you’re doing?” He shakes his head a little, and his voice lowers. “You’re acting like they’re right.”

Eddie grits his teeth; he asks even though he already knows. “Like who—”

“You do know you didn’t kill anyone, right?” Steve says bluntly.

For a horrible moment, Eddie can’t breathe. “I—yes,” he says; it’s wrenched out of him like an involuntary reflex, the thought playing in his head over and over at the boathouse, then at Skull Rock—I didn’t do it, I didn’t, please, please—until it sounded less and less like the truth, and more like desperation.

“Then what?” Steve says. His head tilts down—he looks right at Eddie, eyes blazing like a challenge. “What is it? What is so fucking terrible, Eddie, that you’d—”

“What d’you want me to say, man?” Eddie says, exhausted. “I—I hurt—”

His voice cracks; he can’t get through it, can only think about what he wasn’t meant to have seen: a nurse opening his door too wide, and in that split second, catching a glimpse of Dustin frozen in the hallway, Steve crouched down in front of him, speaking too softly to hear; how Dustin’s shoulders shook; you did this, you—

“You don’t think I wish I could take it back?” Steve says.

The words pull Eddie right out of his head. Cautiously, he asks, “What?”

“Because I would,” Steve continues, like Eddie hasn’t said anything. “I’d take it back in a second.” There’s a harsh scraping sound: the chair legs dragging against the floor as Steve stands, like he suddenly can’t bear being still. “I think about it every day. If I hadn’t—” He stops abruptly, like the words have got stuck somewhere painful. His jaw works once, twice. “If I hadn’t left you to—”

“Don’t,” Eddie gets out, pleading. His hand twitches on the bedsheets uselessly; he’s too far away to…

In so many ways, he wishes he was stronger.

“Steve, you—you can’t do that to your—”

“Right,” Steve cuts across with a humourless laugh, “yeah, exactly,” and Eddie gets the feeling that he’s walked right into a trap without realising. “So you don’t get to, either.”

”Steve—”

“No! No, I’m not gonna just watch you fucking hate yourself for—for what? For being scared? For doing the best you could to—” Steve shakes his head again. “Dustin, he—he knows you were… I would’ve done the same thing.”

Eddie can hardly argue the point. He can hear from the strain in Steve’s voice just how much he means it.

And then Steve scoffs slightly, glancing up at the ceiling again—a fragile smile, like it’s only there to keep himself from crying.

“There’s—there’s so much—God.” He drags a hand down his face. “So much blame, Eddie. All the time.” He gets that awful, distant look to his eyes, the one that reminds Eddie that he was thrown into a story in its last horrific chapter; there are things he doesn’t know, but when Steve looks at him, he can feel an echo of the pain in his chest. “And I’m so sick of it.”

“I’m—”

But Steve interrupts before Eddie can voice it: a weak laugh then, “Jesus Christ, haven’t you been listening? Don’t apologise. It’s enough that—that you’re alive.” Steve swallows, steps back. Jerks his head to the door, “Dustin—he’ll be okay, I swear, just give it time. Before you—it kinda, uh. It was awful?” His voice goes up, but not in question, not really: more like he’s the one trying to joke around it, now—because anything else is too much.

It’s another story Eddie isn’t privy to. But he can read it in the way Steve’s eyes trace the ceiling. In soft words exchanged just before a hospital room.

The guilt doesn’t fade, not yet. But its grip eases around his heart. Makes room for…

“Hey,” Steve says shakily, like he’s crying, too. “Eddie, it’s okay. It’s okay.”

Hands are on Eddie’s face, and maybe it should be overwhelming—but all Eddie can feel is something like forgiveness.

“It’s enough,” Steve whispers. “Eddie, I promise you. Please. Please let it be enough.”

Eddie can’t speak. But he gathers Steve’s shirt in his fist; and you, he means, and you.

And maybe Steve hears it, because he sighs like he’s finally let go of something—like he, too, has been cleansed.

[becomingmina]

FUCKBOY MIN. little series w/ LEEKNOW

18+ ONLY! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

pairing: lee minho x female reader genre + warnings: previous fkbuddy relationship, angst, smut mdni!, min is mean, oral (f recieving), semi-public (empty bathroom), hyunjin is a character wc: 3.4k mina's note: Minho is kinda mean. The way I would have done anything for him just so he can like me back. ❤️‍🩹

other works here ; any comments and thoughts you can drop them here ; ty for reading.

series chapter ➵ part two, part three ending one

"Isn't that Y/N?" Han asked looking over the older boy's shoulder.

Minho turns his head around and sees you amongst the crowd - of the very grand party he dreads. He feels himself tense up at the sight of you, he hasn’t seen you in a while and you looked as beautiful as ever. He can feel the corner of his lip turn up as he replays memories of him and you, and that’s when he realises he misses you.

But the feeling soon fades when he notices you’re with a guy. Only a month and you already found yourself a guy? Loud sweet giggles falls from your lips as you grip the man's biceps, laughing about nothings. He scoffs to himself as he recognises the man.

“Out of all the boys in this fucking city, she chose fucking Hwang Hyunjin?” Minho blurted, he was mad. “She’s got a type. Fuckboys,” he turns back around to Han and raises his brows, as if asking for him to agree with the statement.

“You’re not going to do anything right hyung?” Han nervously asked, knowing his hyung will definitely be doing something.

“She just looks too happy, Han. I gotta ruin it for her. Especially when it’s Hwang Hyunjin she’s fucking with,” Minho says before downing the rest of his drink and ditching the younger boy.

Minho met you a couple months ago at one of his mother’s grand get-together. He only came to these events in hopes to find a hook up or a quick fuck, he was never here to support his mom on what ever event-job-work-promotion she got herself into. He probably got with half of the girls who attended these parties with their rich parents.

“Imagine what your daddy would think of his sweet innocent daughter completely coming vulnerable underneath some guy she just met?” Minho would often whisper in their ears as he thrusts into them. He would say anything to get them to sleep with him then ghost them the next day, leaving them restless.

However you weren’t like any of these girls to him, well at first. Minho was addicted to you, he couldn’t put his finger on it but he kept coming back to you. After seeing you a few times, he proposed for you both to be fwb and you agreed, because to be very honest, Minho was hot and he was a great fuck, the best if you can say. Also, something about him felt very secure to you. Meaningless fucks turned into lingering kisses, then turned into secrets date nights. You both shared such gentle and heartfelt moments, like cooking dinner together to holding hands randomly. Minho became so romantic with you secretly, but he never sincerely voiced it. You fell for him. You wanted to do anything for him in hopes that he liked you back. You became obsessive, got restless, jealous that there was many other girls hovering around him. You wanted him to yourself, and it got to the point where you had pull him away one night, letting your tears run down your face as you admitted your feelings to him, intoxicated. And maybe because he never dealt with such heavy feelings and high emotions like this before that, he turned on you.

“Y/N, you're just like the other girls.. Maybe worse. Easy. Clingy. I would never like you back.. Are you crazy?" You couldn't believe it, he abandoned you. Minho ended up treating you just like all the other girls.

Now the other half of the girls that Minho didn’t hooked up with were probably sorted by Hwang Hyunjin. The city’s heartbreaker. Classic story of two best friends that now hates each other. Minho and Hyunjin grew up together, basically brothers due to their mother’s close friendship. But when the boys got older they grew apart. Times that was supposed be spent together catching up on a tv show or playing basketball turned into time spent with a girl trying to get her to undress underneath them. It was now a competition to see who played the most girls. Oh how toxic.

So when Minho saw you in the ballroom with Hyunjin, he assumed you two were sleeping together. Minho needed to get you alone before the end of the night.

He needed to ruin you, in order to ruin it for Hyunjin aswell.

“Should I get you another drink?” The long haired boy asked realising the glass in your hand was almost empty.

“I was actually eyeing the orange slices over there-” you pointed out, gesturing to the massive grazing table.

“-Mimosa?” He was quick to respond, tone so sweet and cheeky.

“You know me too well Hyunjin,” you smiled admiringly up at the boy.

“I’ll get the champagne, you get the oranges and we meet back here then,” he says, hints of his dorky smile showing.

You were finally alone.

"Hey baby," Minho speaks from behind you, his voice so deep, hands find their way to your hips sending chills down your spine. He used to call you that all the time, and your heart never fails to beat out of your chest from it.

Lee Minho. Why the hell was he behind you? Shouldn’t he breaking some poor innocent girl’s heart?

“I missed you.” You stood still at his words, unable to move.

No not this again.

"Minho, go away," you finally spoke, building up a wall that you know isn’t going to stay up.

"No. I need to talk to you baby. I missed you," he made sure you heard him, his hands now made its way higher to your waist. "You look so pretty tonight..” one hand rests on your waist as the other one slowly travels to your thigh. “I missed your pretty little body so much, baby,” his lips were so close to your face, the proximity is so familiar, so safe that you wanted to turn and press your lips on his. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” Minho had you under his spell, his presence was all it took for you to consider him again. You lean back, head taking its place on his shoulder as your back pressed on his chest. You tilt your head up slowly, finally looking at him. Oh, he was so beautiful as ever. His cute little bunny teeth showing from his agape mouth, his pretty sparkly eyes looking down at you, and his sharp nose, which you remember you use to peck so much. You missed him so much, you couldn’t resist it anymore.

“Min.” You say in the most vulnerable tone ever, gripping his forearm, giving in to him. He smiles at the nickname, the nickname only you were allowed to call him by.

"Come with me," and with that he yanked your arm dragging you through the crowd, for sure going to leave Hyunjin confused when he comes back.

Minho pulled you into an empty bathroom and pressed you against the door after locking it, instantly smashing his lips on to yours. His lips feels so soft against yours and your body hasn’t felt this rush of adrenaline in a while that you were going insane. Already feeling yourself start to go wet, you were so bothered, you needed more. Your teeth clashes as he practically devours you, his hand hoists one of your leg over his hip.

“Need you on the counter, bunny,” he murmured in between the kisses, there goes the nicknames again. He carries you to the counter, helping you up, your legs immediately spreading for him to slot himself in between. His hand slips underneath your dress, brushing against your clothed core.

“Already so wet for me,” he smirks, feeling the patch on your panties. “Can I?” He asked tapping his finger twice on your core. You nodded throwing your head back and he accepts the invitation to suck on your neck, leaving marks. Minho’s fingers pulls your panties to the side, his pointer finger finally runs through your folds. You were so warm, so sticky already that Minho let out a moan into your neck, unable to control the pleasure he was also having. You jolted forward when his fingers finally entered you pumping you slowly, causing him to let out an airy scoff. “Need to taste, let me taste?” You nod again knowing every time Minho ate you out, he would reward you with his dick for being such a good girl. You wanted that again.

“Need to hear you say it, Y/N,” he stops his movements, to brush your hair out of your face adoring your features.

Verbal consent has always been a big thing to Minho. He has so much control when the other person expresses what they want. It feeds into his already massive ego seeing the other person submit to him, makes him feel like he was in winning. And right there and then when he asked that question he wanted you to submit, so he can feel bigger than Hyunjin.

“Yes, please Min. I want it,” you gave him exactly what he wanted. You missed this. You missed his body and how he fucked you, how he made love to you. You miss Minho. You miss how sweet and gentle he was. How he would text you if you got home okay after spending the entire day with him. How innocent and lovely he can be talking about his cats, his hobbies. You wanted him to like you back, to want you back that you were willing to let him do anything to you, to use you.

“You’re still so good baby,” he buttered you up pressing a kiss your lips once more, letting it linger on a bit before dropping to his knees. He bundles your thin long dress around your waist, pulling down your soaked panties and burying them deep in his pocket. He is met with your pretty pussy, glistening with arousal. Your scent takes him by surprise and he goes numb. Oh, how he remembers it all so well, he would spend forever in between your legs on a Sunday afternoon. He parts your thighs and moves his face closer to your cunt, finally sliding his tongue in your slit. You still taste as sweet as ever too and that was all it took for Minho to devour you, to eat you out like a starved man. You lean back on one hand and the other one finds its place in Minho’s hair keeping it there. He was so good with his tongue, alternating between giving fat stripes, kitten licks and harsh sucks on your clit. Minho was getting you closer to your orgasm. Moans and whimpers falls from your lips as you allow him to hear how good he is making you feel.

“Feels good baby? You still taste so sweet, I just know you’re still going to be so tight." he removes himself from you just so he can glance up at your fucked out state nodding to every word he was saying.

“Want to- to cum,” you needed to cum, you were on the verge of tears feeling the tension in your stomach start to fade..

“Hm?”

“Please, I want to cum Min,” you restates and he dives back down. He grips your thighs as he makes out with your pussy, his nose hitting your clit every now and then to get you going again. Minho picks up his pace, moving his kisses to your clit where he then sucks harshly earning a sharp moan from you. You jolt forward, thighs closing around him, throwing your head back as you spray Minho with your sweet release. You feel him smirk against your pussy, his mouth and chin coated in your arousal. That wasn’t enough for you, you wanted more. Your hand pushes his head further into your cunt as you grind down in his nose, riding out your high. Minho lets you use him, his tongue still overstimulating you until you were satisfied. Frankly, he found it hot how after just one taste you go feral for him.

He licks his lips cleaning himself off as he gets up from your legs, helping you pull down your dress. He cages you between his hands that are now resting on the counter, you don’t move. Just staring up at him, he examines your features again, taking all everything that he used to adore. Something about this moment just feels so innocent to both of you, that Minho can help but give you small giggles, his lips turning into a smile. You mirror it in return, sitting in silence as you both recalls the old times.

A sudden buzz of your phone causes you both to snap out of the sweet moment, heads turning to the device next to you on the counter. And Minho grows hot, his reputation overshadowed his feelings for you the second he saw Hyunjin’s name pop up. He lets out a scoff, remembering why he got you in this bathroom in the first place.

Minho's leans in slowly, one hand still gripping on the counter but the other comes up close to your face. Your phone forgotten now. You think he's about to kiss you but he dodges your lips, making his way by your ears as he lets out an airy chuckle, he sounded so cocky you were taken by surprise at his sudden change in demeanour.

"God, Y/N. You're still so easy," His tone deep aiming an attack on you as he reaches for the paper towel dispenser behind your head. He pulls out a towel throwing it to you, to clean yourself up. "Still so desperate for me". It broke you. He has never done this to you before, usually he'll be on after care and cleaning up. Your head snaps to his face, taking in his smirk and dark eyes. You swallow hard, a salty taste coat your tongue and you realise you're trying you best to not cry.

“Are you this desperate for Hyunjin too?” you furrowed your brows together in response. What?

“Hmm?” You asked confused.

“You got a type Y/N, you’re so pathetic.” He continues, the vibrating of your phone doesn't help but fuels his anger.

"Min, what do you mean?" It was clear to you that Minho and Hyunjin weren’t the best of friends when you meet with Minho. But that night when Minho abandoned you, Hyunjin witnessed the whole thing. He help you get up, covering you with his his coat, wiping away your tears and took you home.

"What are you doing here with Hwang Hyunjin?" he finally asked. But you don't respond, instead you hop off the counter, unable to control how hurt you are from his previous act. Your eyes sparkle, cheeks pink, lips trembling. He takes in your reaction, making him feel a bit guilty as he has seen this all before. The night you admitted your feelings.

"You guys fucking?" this time his tone and eyes soften, it was like he needed to confirm it first before continuing to take out his anger and tension on you. You reach for your phone but he snatches before you could, declining the call sliding it across the counter where you can’t reach.

"Does he fuck you as good as I do?" He moves in closer, your noses barely touching. "He treats you better than I do?" You stay quiet.

You didn't know what to answer. Do you lie? Do you teel the truth? Regardless at the end of this Minho isn't coming back to you right? You realised the moment he called you pathetic.

He moves in to kiss your cheek, a gentle peck. Your heart starts to race even more, unable to look him in the eyes. One hand comes up to hold your face, thumb rubbing against your cheeks. "Come on baby, tell me and I'll give you what you want," his lips comes in contact with yours. You melt into the kiss, your hands grasping the waist band of his trousers. Snap out of it, Y/N. "Hmm, you going to be good and tell me? He kisses you better than I do?" He kisses you harder, helping you back up the counter. He takes back his initial position, in-between your legs. Minho moves his kisses down your neck as his hands advances to your shoulders, pulling the thin straps down exposing your chest. He gulps at the sight and latching his lips onto your boob, his hand groping the other one. You tired your hardest not to give in but you cant, the feeling is too strong. You whimper at the contact, your hand palming his hard on through his pants. It was the first time you touched him that night and Minho throws his head back, unable to control the sexual frustration.

"Fuck- see what you do to me, baby?" He coos. You undo his belt, pulling his trousers along with his boxer down, meeting with his big cock. He was already so red, a bead of pre cum already spilling frim his tip. You grab the base of his cock, holding it firmly giving him a gentle pump. Just like the way you always did. Fuck Y/N I missed this so much. Minho finds himself addicted again as he shuts his eyes, a little moan slipping from his lip. You continue to pump him and he tries his best not to give into you but your hands felt so good, he could cum like this. You lean forward attaching your lips to his neck, leaving marks just like he did to you before. “Want you Min,” you whimper on his skin. You needed to feel him inside you.

"Answer me first, Y/N." He was getting irritated at your lack of answer. God, why are you so caught up on this Minho! Your phone rings again, the buzzing noises incites his thought, and that was the breaking point for him. Hwang Hyunjin. Only Y/N would want such a pathetic man like him. "I'm not fucking you if you’re dirty Y/N," he says and you halt your movements, completely removed yourself from him.

"What?" You replied. Minho is now faced with your confused face.

"You're so desperate Y/N. I can’t believe you’re with Hyunjin right after I left you? You're so dirty for that,” Minho repeat himself moving closer to you to provoke you, he was sure you had given yourself to the other bloke. Your lack of answer confirmed it for him too. “Did you fuck Hyunjin?" But he was determined to hear it.

You took a deep sigh, and all the names and remarks he had made to you tonight flooded your head. You’re hurt. God, Y/N you are pathetic. You wanted to turn this on him but you couldn’t. Regardless of what you answer, you couldn’t win and Minho won’t be yours.

"No I didn't because I love you, Min," you confessed, pushing him off you. You proceed to pull up your dress and jump off the counter. You needed to leave him.

You brushed past him retrieving your phone and bag, unlocking the door and walking out.

Leaving him the way he left you, abandoned. Although it was your feelings that he disregarded, leaving him while he was hard and sexually unsatisfied like this would have hurt the same for a fuck boy like him.

But Minho wasn’t hurt by that. Your words was the thing that stung him. Shes loves me? No one had ever done this to Minho, he didn't know what to do. Such a similar feeling to how you felt - when he ghosted you and just now.

His words still played in your mind, they're still lingering around you. You wanted to sob, cry your heart out but you couldn't just yet, only allowing the tears to build in your eyes. Did you really just let him treat you like that? You chose pleasure again instead of protecting your already broken heart. Minho was right, you are fucking easy. You see the exit through your blurry vision and you rushed to it, pushing into the many people that was just crowding around. Just as you're about to leave a hand pulls you back.

"Y/n, you okay?" You turned around to meet with Hyunjin, and you couldn't help but burry your face in his chest as you let your tears fall.

"I hate him," you cried loudly, your whole body shaking and your legs go numb. Hyunjin hugs you, both arms wrapped around you tightly as he lets you become completely vulnerable. You were safe with him.

"I know.. Let's go home."

[luveline]

PLS PLS PLS IM ON MY KNEES what about Remus with a sunshine reader? Like she comes around and is just so chatty and energetic and a much needed change of pace for our brooding quiet boy

Remus takes his earphones out the moment he sees you, but that's his secret alone. You barrel through the atrium to drape yourself over Sirius’ shoulder, meeting his smirk with a genuinely ecstatic smile before looking up at the others. “Hello, my favourite boys. Did you get dinner yet?” 

“No, babe, we were waiting for you. Sit down,” Sirius says. 

You beam and make directly for the chair next to Remus, though you could've sat with Sirius, or a little ways across next to the girls. “Hey,” you say, like he's the only boy you've ever wanted to speak with. James makes a knowing face behind your back. “What are you having?” 

“Remus doesn't believe in canteen food,” James says.  

“No kidding,” you say, still smiling, not even slightly put off by this nor Remus’ passive expression. It's not that he doesn't like you, the opposite, he just has a headache and he hates uni. You make it easier, a light in the dark. “What's not to like? Three quid for a slice of burnt pizza or five for a bowl of metallicy pasta. You couldn't get it any better.” 

“We'll go up to town,” Sirius suggests with a chuckle.  

“Let's order a pizza or something, they'll deliver in here, won't they?” James asks. 

You focus on Remus. “You don't like anything at all? The curry and chips is nice enough.” 

“It's not for me.” 

You nod appreciatively and let your tote bag fall from your shoulder into the crook of your arm. You rifle around and pull out a tupperware full of cut fruit, slices of banana, strawberries, blueberries, what looks like circles of pear. “We can eat this.” 

Remus could say no. He can't decide what's worse, saying yes or no, that is until you open the lid and put it between you both, offering to Sirius and James as well, and suddenly it isn't awkward at all, just something you've done. The pads of your fingers turn pink with strawberry juice as you tell him, “I was gonna put some tangerine in here but I keep getting super sour ones.” 

“They're out of season,” he says, fingers brushing yours as he takes a slice of banana. He swears, it zings. 

“I should know that. You know everything.” You leave a little strawberry print on the back of his hand, unnoticed, and he knows he's fucked when he lets it dry there in the shape of your finger. 

Somewhere between fruit slices and your chatter your chair grows closer to his, your knee pressed to knee without remorse, your elbow a whisper from his as you lean back in your chair. “So, bad day?” you ask. 

“What makes you think that?” 

You tap the space between your brows. He registers the gesture, nearly misunderstands, but eventually he relaxes the set of his brow and his tensed jaw. It's actually a relief. He hadn't realised he was doing it. 

“There,” you say, still smiling softly. “That's better. You'll get a headache, you know?” You sound genuinely worried. “It's not good to be so tense.” 

“Thank you,” he says. James and Sirius order a pizza on speaker across from you both, and, for fear you've missed it, he adds, “Thanks.” 

You needle into him with your elbow gently. “You're welcome. You're handsome when you smile.” 

“Not like you,” he says, “you're brilliant.” 

Your teeth peek out. His chest lifts, you look that happy, and when he smiles back it doesn't feel nearly as taxing as it usually does. 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

First, let me apologise for making people worry. I appreciate all those who reached out and I'm sorry that I couldn't get back to you all.

I have been through a very rough spiral. It was building for months, and I am still not fully okay.

For those who want context, it's under the cut.

I bought a house in May. It's expensive. I wasn't ready financially or in many ways for that step, but my partner convinced me. I told him as much but I was not heard. Alas, I have a mortgage, full time work, astudent loan, and an ongoing school program to contend with. It hasn't been easy and it caught up to me.

At the same time, a person who traumatised me and I have no way of fully extricating from my life, has moved closer. To keep the peace, I have to associate with him to a degree and he pretends that nothing ever happened. To him, it was nothing.

In June, I moved. It was hard and fast paced. I did most of the paperwork etc for the whole process and obv helped with the physical transition as well. I was responsible for deadlines and checklists for not just myself but my partner.

I was plugging holes in a sinking boat.

At the same time, I had obligations to my family. Every weekend if I wasn't dealing with the house and all that goes into it, I was running around to babysit or see family or whathave you.

In July, I pinched a nerve behind my tailbone. I missed a week of work bc my injury but it took longer for my to recover. I am still feeling it today. It was more than physical, but emotional.

I also got three periods that month. Hormonal can't begin to explain how fucked up I've been.

On top of all that, there are underlying issues associated with other trauma and discontent. I'm realising that I have been loyal and tolerant to the point of my own detriment.

I don't want to hurt people how I've been hurt, so I don't speak up. When people tell me something about myself, I let all the doubts planted in my mind from years of abuse convince me that they're right. I can admit my faults but often times I will think that proof of one flaw means everything about me is rotten.

People forget about me or just don't care. Both or either. They don't put the same effort in that I do. I find it hard to connect because years of disregard and neglect have told me that the other side just won't care.

But I'm not just hurt, I'm angry. I'm seeking therapy and trying to figure this out.

It all boiled over after my last post. Nothing I do is enough. For anyone. Not even when it's a hobby. I was frustrated bc the place I use for escape just made me feel like less than.

Obviously, I don't mean everyone or even the majority. I appreciate the discourse and fun and everything here! There are so many awesome people to interact with and I have missed you all, however, my headspace was bad. Very bad. I had thoughts I haven't dealt with in years.

I put my nose down and just went to work. I didn't wanna talk to anyone. I didn't wanna be in the world.

I did some reading, eventually some non-fandom writing, and sometimes, I just stayed alive.

I don't know if I'm really okay but I'm trying.

To those who have been so patient and supportive, you deserve everything. To those who are silent supporters, you do too. And even to those people who send me the most vile hate, you deserve to lift yourself out of the dark space you're stuck in. Hopefully, I can, too.

[sukunasweetheart]

Thinking of breakup angst with sukuna...

Thinking of the build up towards it, the way you have been fighting over the littlest things for months now

It leads you to think about how self centered he can be, how you always feel like you loved him more than he loved you and how crushing it felt to have that realisation fall upon you every time

He can be so career focused sometimes, with the long business trips, work parties, etc. always working vehemently to get higher, threatening to leave you behind

And one particular night, the argument gets so heated that you dont get a wink of sleep afterwards, only staring blankly at nothing as you try to calm the chaos in your head. Sukuna heads out without a word the next morning, and you make the final decision in your head, alone, by yourself.

By the time sukuna comes back home with the intent of reconciliation, he finds that youre packing the remainder of your belongings into a suitcase in the bedroom, ready to move out of his home.

"what the fuck is all this?" he asks, his tone coming out harsher than he means it to be.

"what do you think? i'm breaking up with you. i'm moving out," you can barely stop your voice from wavering. you've cried too much this week.

"oh, come on. you know you don't mean that," he reaches out to grab your arm, but you withdraw away from his hand so fiercely that it even surprises him.

"don't you talk to me like that," you speak firmly, "like i'm being dramatic. why won't you ever treat me seriously? i am leaving, sukuna."

you continue your work, neatly folding up some of your shirts. you're already almost finished. he looks around, and the house looks half empty.

oh. you really mean it. you're really trying to leave.

"no, you're not. you're not leaving. not after everything we've been through together," he tells you defensively, grabbing your wrist, stopping you from folding your last shirt, trying to get you to look at him again.

"like what? constantly yelling at each other until our throats are sore? i'm really sick of it. and i'm sure you are, too."

"don't put words in my mouth. i may have gotten sick of our fighting, but i've never gotten sick of you," sukuna hisses, refusing to let you continue packing your things. you feel yourself getting swayed by his words.

"well, i am. i've gotten sick of you," you say quietly through gritted teeth.

"oh yeah? say it to me properly then. look at me dead in the eyes," he demands, voice getting lower.

"you heard me. i don't need to say it again." you pull away from his grip and try to get this last shirt folded. he grabs you again, by the hand this time, and the piece of clothing unravels once more.

"no, i didn't hear shit. convince me that you really want to leave me - and i'll let you go."

in a fit of anger, you turn to face him completely, but your resolve crumbles away when you see his expression. not the one you'd assigned to him in your own mind, but his true features, under the bright bedroom lights.

he looks serious. he looks concerned. he's asking you to tell him it's not true. tell him that you want to stay.

"...let me go. i'm leaving..." you say, voice finally breaking. like a broken faucet, your eyes begin leaking tears relentlessly and your throat closes up in that painful way that you hate, but nothing compares to the pain in your heart at the thought of really breaking up with this man here and now.

he lets you go...

and calmly takes your things out of the suitcase to put them back. you didn't miss the relief in his eyes that showed up for that split second.

"bring it back! i hate you," you attempt to raise your voice, but really, it's only just your ego speaking.

"you can't even say that you hate me in the correct tone. we're not breaking up," he mutters, hanging up your coats and putting them into the closet.

having been defeated, your legs give way and you sit down on the side of the bed, sobbing.

through the blur of your tears, you watch as he meticulously goes through your suitcase, putting everything where they belong. and you sob harder. he knows too much. he arranges your creams, perfumes and accessories in the perfect order on the dresser. he spends a good fifteen minutes, putting all of your belongings back where they should be.

and by the time he gets back to you, he's like a different man. the mattress dips from his weight as he sits next to you, bringing a box of tissues with him to wipe your tears away.

"we can talk tomorrow since we're both tired today," sukuna tells you as he dabs your eyes with the tissue, "i'll take the day off." you just sit still without responding. now that he mentioned it, the fatigue seems to fall upon you suddenly, like a brick. he coaxes you under the sheets.

soon, you find yourself in bed, in his arms. it's been a while since the two of you had cuddled so intimately. you feel oddly shy, the same way you did all those years ago when you first started dating him. there's a special kind of warmth that sukuna's body emits - and you're surrounded by it under these blankets.

"i'll try to do better... so don't go anywhere," he speaks with a softer tone.

because, it's true, he can't imagine living a life without you.

those are the last words you hear before you drift off to sleep.

the next morning, he's still in bed with you, and you're pleased to see he kept his word about taking the day off. checking the mirror, you're horrified and embarrassed about your swollen eyes from all the crying last night.

sukuna takes a look at you and chuckles without ill intent. but in your flustered state, you slap his arm until he's saying "my bad, my bad" in between laughs.

there's still some awkward tension between you and him, but going through breakfast together seems to melt some of that away, until you're ready to bring up yesterday's event.

it goes better than you'd expected, and after the discussion, the only thing that's left is to wait and see whether things will change for the better or not. whether his promises are empty or not.

"i didn't realise that you were so lonely. 'm sorry," he apologises as he plays with your hand, "i may work a lot, but you're always on my mind, doll."

it's like a huge weight off your shoulders.

and he begins to be more like his playful self again, after the talk.

"i'll need you to tell me that you love me today. since you told me you hated me yesterday," sukuna says with a smirk, hugging you from behind.

"well, you need to earn it," you shoot back, rolling your eyes.

"alright. will you say it back if i say it first?"

"sure."

"i love you."

"..."

"now that's not fair, is it?" he tickles you without mercy.

you burst out in laughter, thrashing around uncontrollably, trying to push him away.

"okay, okay! i love you!" you tell him in between breaths.

seemingly satisfied, he lets you go and pushes his face into the crook of your neck. he'll never let you go.

the following day after work, sukuna comes home earlier than usual, and he doesn't wear a grumpy expression in front of you. he greets you with a hug and kiss. it's a small gesture, but it makes you happy.

and slowly, the relationship begins to rekindle itself.

[whenlilyfallsinlove]

not anymore.

luke castellan x reader - college au, only one bed, enemies to lovers.

im back!! sorry for being afk, ive had lots of exams!

"oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me." you hear luke say as you drag your suitcase into the room.

you rolled your eyes at the sound of his voice, already mad as it was. this was supposed to be a fun weekend: your college has organised a trip for students to go to new york, which you had been excited for.

the trip was off to a great start - you and your friend clarisse had explored the city where you had eaten the best bagel in your entire life.

your happiness, however, was short-lived.

"I'M SHARING WITH WHO?!" your voice echoed through the hotel lobby, causing clarisse to nudge you.

"luke. apparently." clarisse says, almost amused.

"that can't be right. how is this even allowed?" you frown.

"well you're adults, so you're probably trusted-" she starts but you cut her off.

"i can not share a room with him clarisse, i fucking despise him." you groan. you had hated luke since kindergaten and he hated you. that was the way it had always been.

"it's only two nights." she tries to comfort you.

"ONLY TWO NIGHTS, THAT'S TWO NIGHTS TOO MANY." you despised him. he was the bane of your existence.

"you think I want to be sharing a room with someone as stupid as you?" a new voice came from behind you, you turned round to see luke stood, glaring at you. next to him was chris, who waved at clarisse.

"i'm way smarter than you. i have every right to complain." you glare back.

"oh, do you even hear yourself right now? you sound ridiculous." he replies.

"literally shut up, your opinion is irrelevant to me." you say.

"you're so fucking annoying oh my god." luke groans.

"i'm annoying?! you're the one who-"

you continued to bicker, completely forgetting your surroundings. chris and clarisse shared knowing looks with each other, the two of you claimed that you hated each other, sure. but the tension between the two of you was unmatched.

"hey.." clarisse says, dragging your attention from luke "at least there'll be two beds, you can just ignore each other."

this put a smile back on your face.

"thank fuck.." you say and the two of you begin to walk up to your respective rooms.

"what is it-" you were about to come out with some form of insult until you realised what his reaction was for.

there, in front of you, was your hotel room. with only one bed.

"are you taking the piss?" you let out an exasperated sigh.

"i think i'm going to die." luke groans.

"oh shut up, go see if we can change rooms." you remark.

"why can't you?" he responds.

"because i can't be bothered to come up all those stairs again" you respond, rolling your eyes like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"you're so lazy." he replies.

"are you gonna do it then or what?" you put your hands on your hips.

"fuck yes." luke replies, and leaves the room.

when he is gone, you let yourself fall onto the bed and groan. this could only ever happen to you. having to stay in a room with the boy you've hated since the age of 6 was one thing, but sharing a bed with him? even worse. you wish you had never come on this stupid trip. then you'd be at home, no luke, curled up in bed, watching the new season of bridgerton. was it too late to-

your thoughts were interrupted by the return of luke, who looked as if he was going to kill you for even breathing near him.

"well?!" you stand.

"there's no other rooms. this is the only one, we have to wait till tomorrow." he frowns.

"oh for the love of god." you say, putting your head in your hands.

"yeah. that's how i feel right now. stuck in a room with a freak." luke says.

"i hate you." you glare at him.

"the feeling is mutual." he glares back.

"you're such a dick."

"only because you are the most annoying person on earth."

"fuck this, i'm having a shower." you grab your pjamas and make your way too the bathroom.

"be quick. i want one." luke calls out.

"i want, doesn't get." you stick your tongue out at him.

"what are you.. eight?" he glares.

you flip him off and shut the door, locking it, and get in the shower.

the hot water calmed your anger, as you tried to take as long as possible. maybe you should try and drown yourself? i mean it would get you out of this situation. that was what you needed.

you continued to ponder the logistics with this until you realised your skin had gone a bit wrinkly from being in there for too long. you got out, dried yourself, and put your pjamas on. you regret how little you brought. the heat was stifling, so you had only brought some shorts and a small crop top. in your defence, you thought you'd be sharing with clarisse.

you opened the door, and walked out the bathroom, luke was layed on the bed, on his phone.

"fucking finally, are you done in the bathroom yet, you took-" he blinks, stopping once he sees what you are wearing.

"oh shut up. i'm done." you glare.

luke nods awkwardly - what the fuck was up with him? - his gaze lingering on your figure. he clears his throat.

"uh yeah. um good." he finally responds standing up.

"the fuck is up with you?" you give him a funny look.

"nothing weirdo." he snaps out of it, and makes his way to have a shower over his own.

you frown at his reaction - why was he being so weird. you shake your head, and get into bed, laying on the edge, and go on your phone.

after about fifteen minutes, luke responds and gets into the other side of the bed.

you lay in silence for about fifteen minutes, both not knowing what to say.

"you still awake?" luke asks you, turning over to look at you,

"why wouldn't i be?" you retort.

"it was just a question.. why are you always so hostile?!"

"because you annoy the living daylight out of me."

"you can't even look at me when you say that." he smirks.

he was right, your back was still turned. you roll your eyes but turn so you are facing him.

"yes i can. you annoy the living daylight out of me." you say looking into his eyes.

his eyes.. were they always this pretty? what was up with you? it was luke. LUKE.

"i know i do." he smirks, looking into your eyes.

you feel flustered. the two of you go quiet for a minute until luke breaks the silence.

"why do you even hate me anyway?" he asks.

"because you anger me." you respond.

"but why?"

"do you not remember when you pushed me off my bike when we were 6?"

"oh yeah. that was so funny." he smiles at the memory.

"no it wasn't." you retort.

"it was." he looks at you again.

the two of you go silent again. what was happening to you? was luke moving closer or was it just you? no he definitely was. was he leaning in-

"turn the light off. i'm tired." luke suddenly demands, catching you off guars. you immediately move away from him.

"um no? i'm not tired." you respond back. you weren't crazy.. you swear you had just had a moment with him.

"do i care?" he asks, avoiding eye contact with him

"i'm not doing it." you retort, rolling you eyes.

"fine. i'll do it." he gets up and turn the light off, leaving just the lamp on the corner on.

"oh you are so irritating." you glare, looking up at him.

"whatever, just go to sleep, we have to meet early tomorrow." he responds and gets into bed, turning his back away from you.

you mock him whilst his back is turned, and turn away yourself.

how were you supposed to get to sleep? you swear you were about to.. i don't know.. kiss luke. your mortal enemy.. except not really. you knew for sure he was right back to being the same old luke as before.

you frown and lay there for about ten minutes, trying to fall asleep.

"(y/n).. i'm.. sorry." you hear luke mutter, next to you. luke had NEVER apologised to you before. EVER. but you were still mad.

"go to sleep." you repeat what luke said to you. you were petty, what can you say?"

"i can't." he responds, making you roll your eyes.

"you can't?! you literally said you were tired." you say.

"how in the hell do you expect me to sleep when you're right there and i can't stop thinking about you?" he raises his voice, catching you off guard.

what. the. fuck. what did he mean. what.

you turn over, to see luke already staring at you.

"what.." you feel your breath hitching in your throat as you see luke already looking at you.

"you're the bane of my existence. i hate you. you get under my skin. but fuck.. why do you have to be so beautiful?" he says, looking into your eyes.

"luke.." you mutter.

"i can't hold back any longer, (y/n), i can't keep pretending i don't l-"

you interrupt him by crashing your lips onto him, kissing him hungrily. luke happily returns the kiss, wrapping his arm round your waist.

after about ten seconds, you pull away.

"i'm sorry, i shouldn't have-" you aplogise.

"don't be sorry. i liked it." he replies, making you smile.

well one thing was now certain for sure. you definitely didn't hate each other anymore.

[dovveri]

doctor's advice

synopsis: y/n decides to go to the leading plastic surgery clinic in korea bcs she's sick of feeling the way she does about how she looks. she catches the attention of dr. im nayeon, the head of this practice who thinks y/n is way too pretty to warrant any of those feelings she has about herself.

warnings: this is lowkey just smut oops, fingering, oral, body image issues - so a lil angsty in the beginning

w/c: 4.2k

a/n: this one is kinda all over the place and i lwk hate it but i needed to finish it so i could get over this writing block like i did kindaaa have a vision for it but i gave up halfway and just turned to sex which is why it doesn't flow well LMAO but hey! doctor nayeon is hot so!

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

"can i get your full name please?"

"y/n l/n."

the receptionist smiles at you, typing something into her computer and handing you a form, "alright y/n, just fill in this form and someone will be with you in a bit."

you nod, accepting the form and taking a seat in the waiting room of the plastic surgery clinic you were currently at.

you scan over the details of the form. most of it was just demographic information, asking you your age, gender, a little about your daily activities, whether or not you actively exercised, all the simple questions.

you were feeling a little desperate when you finally decided to make a first consultation at the most well-renowned plastic surgery clinic in seoul. you had been thinking about doing it for a while now, but lately the feeling of disgust at being in your own body was overwhelming.

your parents didn’t understand why you’d want to do anything to the body they brought into this world. your friends thought plastic surgery was an excessive response and that it could potentially be dangerous. but none of them understood what it felt like to wake up everyday and be reminded that you were stuck in this body, the fear that no-one will ever be able to love you and that you’d consequently end up alone for the rest of your pitiful life.

your grip on the pen grows a little tighter as you remind yourself why you’re here.

you feel a set of eyes on you as you’re getting to the end of the form, so you look up, locking eyes with a gorgeous woman in a clean white lab coat, curious eyes behind a set of thick spectacles that frame her face perfectly. with all your experience analysing how you look you can't help but think she would be the perfect reference for your surgical procedures.

but you're also hit with thoughts of why is she looking at me? is she judging me? i bet she's judging me. fuck what is she looking at? is it my legs? my arms? my nose? is she thinking i'm an unsolveable case? fuck i shouldn't have come here. i should go now-

"hi, y/n?"

you're snapped out of your thoughts when you realise the pretty woman is now standing in front of you.

"y-yes." you curse at the stutter but she pays it no mind, offering a smile.

"the receptionist gave me your name. i'm dr im but you can call my nayeon. do you want to come with me?"

your eyes widen when she introduces herself. dr im. the most well-renowned plastic surgeon in the industry. you heard rumours that she had waitlists up to 20 years long and that you couldn't get an appointment with her except through referral. she was the one who brought this clinic its reputation of the leading plastic surgery clinic in the country.

"i-i'm sorry there must be some mistake? i didn't think the dr. im would be my advising clinician today."

she smiles again, "well no i wasn't meant to be but i came to grab some files from the front desk and i saw you and asked jiyeon," she gestures to the receptionist who handed you your form, "and found out you were here for an advisory session and forgive me if i'm being forward but i just thought you were beautiful and wondered what you possibly could've wanted to get done."

you feel your cheeks rapidly heat up as you gape up at her in shock.

"i can call back the previous doctor who was assigned to you if you want! i didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable i'm sorry if i-"

you interrupt her quickly, "no no! sorry that was just a surprise to me i definitely wasn't expecting that from you but um- yeah sure we can go now i'm fine with you being my doctor."

she grins then, and you're entranced by her slightly larger front teeth that make an appearance, "great! follow me."

you stand up a little frantically, gathering all your things and quickly following dr im.

it's more of an office than a doctor's room, you note the expensive leather and framed awards and certifications hanging on her wall, the neatly organised desk and pretty flowers that decorate and give the room some colour.

you sit cautiously in one of the chairs in front of her desk as she moves to sit in hers

"water?" she offers you.

you shake your head no, glancing down at your hands and fiddling with them just to be able to do something.

she looks over your form very briefly before looking back to you with a kind smile. "so what were you hoping to get out of coming here today y/n?"

you can't look up at her, "u-um just... y'know. like... everything..."

she cocks her head, "everything?"

"yeah like... face, body, all of it."

nayeon frowns, "that would be quite an expensive procedure."

"oh money's not really a problem. i've saved up a lot for this." you try to joke a little, if only to ease your own nerves, "worked my ass off all throughout high school and college so i could do this one day."

"you don't want to spend that money on anything else?"

you're confused and finally look up at her, "well i mean sure there are plenty of things i could spend it on but this is something i've thought about for a long time now and i'm finally ready to do it."

she's quiet for a little, seeming to be deep in thought, before she speaks up, "y/n... has someone made you feel like this?"

you frown, your sweaty hands gripping your pants tighter, "i'm sorry what does this have to do with my appointment?"

"i want to make sure you're doing this for the right reason. wanting to alter your entire body is a big decision and it can have lasting impacts. i don't want you to regret it afterwards."

you're getting more and more frustrated. this was a famous plastic surgeon who dealt with thousands of surgeries and has probably met cases like yours but she still doesn't seem to understand you. just like your parents and your friends, no-one understood.

"why does it matter to you? i want to get lots of things done that’ll make you lots of money and that really should be your only concern."

she narrows her eyes at you, “y/n, i couldn’t care less about the money. look around.” she gestures to her office, all the expensive trinkets and decorations she has lying around, “i have enough money to support a family for 100 lifetimes. what i do care about are my clients-”

you burst, “what do you know?! you’ve probably spent your whole life being adored for everything you do. people probably fall over themselves just to get a chance to talk to you! you’ll never understand how it feels to be unloved, to hate yourself when you wake up every morning and look in the mirror, to think everyone’s always talking about you, looking at you, judging you, you’re so beautiful you couldn’t ever know!”

she’s surprised at your sudden increase in volume. you had kept all of this in for so long, you felt like if you ever told anyone else they’d just think you were complaining but it was so much more debilitating than that. you couldn’t talk to your parents or your friends out of fear they’d think you were too needy or attention-seeking or whatever. nayeon was the first stranger who had shown they cared for you and you took that as a sign to release all your years of pent up frustration at her.

“i- i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to explode like that i-“

“it’s okay y/n. i’m sorry you’ve had to feel like this for so long on your own. but i just want to say, i’m not one of those people. i know it’s hard to believe when you look at me and what i’ve accomplished, but i find it hard to believe no-one loves you. and sure i judged you when i first saw you but not negatively. i told you i thought you were what i thought to be the perfect model for other people’s procedures and i was curious what you wanted to change about that.”

she’s collected herself and responds to you calmly, only with the curiosity of a scientist in her eye.

you’re unsure how to respond to her, feeling more than a little awkward now after your accidental outburst.

you attempt to clear your throat to start, “right… um so-“

“why don’t you take off your clothes and show me what you’d like to have done?”

you blush a bright red at her response, nodding slightly as you both stand and you begin to strip. you leave your underwear on as she stands in front of you, running her eyes over your body.

“um… so i guess if we’re starting from the bottom… i wanted to slim my calves down and shape them a little better… obviously um my ass i’d like to be a little rounder-“ you gesture to your various body parts as you talk, and she’s nodding, eyes focused, hands reached out as you feel goosebumps litter your skin when she gently probes the areas you're talking about.

"would you mind taking off your underwear? i just need to get an estimate of what you're talking about."

you blush again as you nod shyly, peeling the offending piece of item off you and turning as she prods and pokes again.

"um... yeah so i was also thinking a tummy tuck? just to tighten all the skin here-"

the feeling of her fingers on your body is slowly driving you insane. you're shivering a little as she runs her hand along your lower stomach, humming a little.

"um also like y'know, a boob job-"

she gestures for you to take off your bra and you do so, now standing completely naked in front of the doctor.

her hands come up and cup them, your nipples are hardening in the cool air of her office, "what size were you thinking?"

"i-i- u-um-" she squeezes a little and you take a deep inhale, trying to calm yourself, your eyes glued to the ceiling as she fondles you, "m-maybe one up?"

she hums and you feel a thumb brush across a nipple whether intentionally or unintentionally and you're suddenly clenching your thighs together praying she doesn't notice.

"so also um arm lifts, a face lift, kinda wanna hollow out my cheeks a little more and maybe highlight my cheekbones? lip fillers and a new nose, all of my scars obviously, and probably a brow lift too..."

her hands are on your face now, cupping your cheeks and she's close enough you can see the small specks of gold in her eyes and the little mole under her left eyebrow. your breath hitches as her eyes meet yours, they're so full of wonder and curiosity and you're reminded of the fact that you're very naked right now and standing in front of an extremely pretty woman.

she hums again, eyes dropping to your nose, than your lips, and you unconsciously wet your lips in tension, watching as her eyes trace the action.

then all of a sudden she's gone, moving back towards her chair and turning on her monitor. you quickly scramble for your clothes, hurriedly putting everything back on as you join her, blushing at the slightly sticky feeling between your legs.

"okay so we can do everything you just said. i'm going to need a few references-"

"you can use yourself for most of them."

she raises an eyebrow at you, a slight lift in the corner of her mouth.

"i appreciate the compliment y/n but if you're going to play that game then i'd like to say i wouldn't want to be sitting here discussing what to change about you in the first place."

"what would you be doing then?"

there's a glint in her eyes and you swallow, "helping you realise how there's nothing to change. eventually i'd get you to help me take a few pictures maybe, as reference for future customers who come in."

"and how would you do that?"

"how would i make you feel beautiful?" she's standing up and rounding her desk, taking her glasses off and placing them on her table, and you're looking up at her feeling strangely defiant.

"well yeah it'd be pretty hard knowing how much i hate myself-"

her arms now bracket the sides of your chair and she's leaning down with a clear smirk on her face.

"i'd touch along here," she's trailing one of her hands up your arm, leaving goosebumps in her wake, "here," she reaches your neck, then up to your face, leaning in to speak into your ear now, "everywhere just so you know exactly what i'm talking about. and i'd make you feel so good like you've never felt before, and i'd keep doing that until you realise just how crazy you drive me."

your eyes are lidded when you speak up again, voice hoarse and deep, "try it."

she's all in your space now, climbing into into your lap, lips closing around your ear lobe as she sucks. your eyes close and you groan a little when her hips meet yours, tilting your head back distantly wondering how the fuck you got yourself in this situation but quickly shaking that thought off when you feel her move towards your neck, licking and sucking.

soon enough she's moving up your jaw and towards your lips, one hand on your shoulder, the other one at your waist. she stops just short of your lips with a little smirk on her face as you share the same air.

your eyes meet her in a blaze and you surprise her when you yank her down, she moans when that brings your hips together even closer and you capture her lips with impatient want. her hands are tangling into your hair now, pulling lightly as your lips slide against each other, your breath hitching when she licks a tongue along your top lip.

“these- fucking- lips-“ she’s breaking away between kisses for air, panting softly.

“i can’t believe- you’d want to do anything- when i could kiss these- all fucking day-“

she’s breaking away again, leaving you chasing as she places pecks all across your face, “new nose? please this slant is perfect. these cheeks are adorable and these eyebrows shape your pretty pretty face just right-“ she’s kissing every inch of your skin, moving back down to your neck and nipping at your collarbone.

her hands are at the bottom of your shirt, sneaking up to caress the lines of your stomach and you let out a sharp inhale when one hand comes unashamedly up to cup your breast.

“how could you be making those pretty sounds if this wasn’t your body i was touching hmm?” she’s lifting your shirt over your head, sliding her hands everywhere.

"breast implants?" she scoffs as she brings her hands behind your back to unclasp your bra, flinging it behind her and moving her hands straight to cup your tits. "please darling look how perfectly these fit in my hands. and the way they spill out between my fingers if i squeeze like this-" you moan unabashedly now when she gropes and grasps.

"god i could just hold these all day-" she's dipping down, a tongue tracing the top of your breast, the hot feeling against your skin driving you absolutely mad as you roll your hips against her with a whimper.

she pushes you back down roughly with her hips, looking up at you, her hands never stopping her fondling at your breasts, she is obscene. "don't do that now sweetie. i'm meant to be taking care of you and showing you just how pretty you are to me. so you're gonna sit there and look pretty while i do exactly that mmk?"

she's taking a nipple into her mouth now, licking and sucking, and you hiss when she bites down softly, feeling her mouth turn upward at the sound.

she lavishes your breasts, leaving you quivering and flushed in her wake, she makes small comments in between periods of sucking marks into the side of your tits, her tongue has never once left your body since she started, wet trails leading everywhere.

she's kissing down your stomach now and you suck in a breath as she sinks to her knees in front of you, looking up at you with those curious eyes, completely clothed still in her white labcoat, mouth wrecked and lips in a pretty little pout. she's spreading your legs and you're fighting a little against her, embarassed at the fact that her face would be so close to you and she could see every little detail of your arousal.

she tuts but shuffles back a little, letting you close your legs again but she picks one up and starts feeling along your calf, pressing gently at the muscles there and feeling you unclench in relief.

"these don't need anything done either. you're just a little tense here. some stretching and a good massage will work those kinks right out and you won't even notice them anymore."

she's pressing down on all the pressure points to release the tension in your calves, and you moan slightly in pleasure as your head lolls back, eyes squeezing shut, cool air hitting your wet breasts, nipples perking at the lack of attention and you shudder.

you're helpless when she starts spreading your legs again, miraculous hands moving up to your knees, still kneading and massaging, then up to your thighs.

then her mouth is on you again, hot and wet against the inside of your thighs and you're squirming, breathing picking up as the tension in the room multiplies tenfold. you don't dare look down at her afraid the sight may just push you over the edge.

but hands come shooting down to her head when that tongue, that fucking tongue, licks a gentle strip from the bottom of your cunt to the top, stalling at the hood of your clitoris and pushing it back only to place a small peck on the nub and moving back down to drink in the essence flowing out of you.

"f-fuck dr im i-i-"

she stops, looking up at you with a quirk of an eyebrow, a lustful darkness seeping into her curious eyes, "call me that again."

"doctor im?"

she's back to lapping at your pussy and you moan, closing your thighs around her head, one arm raised up and holding on to the back of the chair to keep yourself upright.

"so fucking delicious. my god i could just tie you up and eat you out for hours."

you're whining, cunt clenching at her words but she's prying your folds open with her fingers, enamoured by the way your hole only seems to leak more with every action she takes, then she's licking into you and you cry out at the feeling. her tongue lashing against your walls as she moans at the taste of your core, sending shockwaves of pleasure right up your spine.

you can't take much more but she's lifting your ass and gripping, tugging you closer to her so she can explore even more of you.

eventually her mouth comes up for air and she's grabbing and kneading your ass cheeks, "these?-" her voice is a lot more gravelly now, thick with lust and she's panting slightly, "you don't know how perfect these are. they're the exact amount of firmness but still soft enough that i could use your ass like a pillow and you're talking about shape?" she sends a light slap up into you and you gasp, only clenching even harder around nothing, "just look how that rippled for me darling you need to know how fucking hot you look right now and how much you turn me on just from looking at you."

she almost sounds like she's growling with the low tenure of her voice and she's tugging you back into her, kissing your clit and sucking it into her mouth.

"d-doc- i- i- oh fuck- i'm gonna-"

she offers no response, just humming into you and you rut your hips into her at the vibration, completely helpless and positively dripping.

soon enough you're spilling over, coming with a moan, your back arching and she's licking you through it, you're completely blissed out heaving in effort before you slump back down into the chair.

but she doesn't stop. you're feeling overstimulated as she continues her assault on your pussy and you're lightly tugging her hair upwards trying to get her to come up but she's shaking her head no, and then shaking her head to tongue you side to side and you're building up all over again.

"w-wait d-doc i- i can't i just- doc-"

she looks up at you then, and holy fuck you almost came again at the sight. her slightly disheveled hair, eyes glazed over, mouth open and tongue sticking out absolutely ruined.

she's moving back up your body, kissing along places she's already left her mark on. "what did i say about sitting still and looking pretty baby? hmm?" a long finger finds its way to your folds and you're clenching in anticipation. "i said i'd make you cum as many times as it'll take for you to realise you're hot right? i'm not one to take back my words sweetie."

"f-fuck i- oh shit doc i-"

she's pushing into you torturously slow, a teasing smirk against your neck, "hm?"

"nggh fuck please- please i need- fuck- i need you- oh shit-"

"this?" another finger joins her but she stays hilted inside you, unmoving as you wriggle under her.

"ah- y-yes! p-please move- oh fuck i- please-" you're babbling at this point, almost incoherent but she's sliding out of you and then pushing in oh so wonderfully.

she's back to mouthing at your nipple, the sensitive nubs sending flares of heat down to your core, "so so pretty."

"i- yes- i- oh fuck-"

her fingers are entering you at a faster pace now, the wet sounds of your fucking filling the empty office.

all of a sudden there's a loud knock at the door and she stills inside you, looking up in slight alarm, nipple popping out of her mouth.

"doctor im your 3pm is here."

you can't help but clench around her fingers and she whips her head back down to you, wiggling her fingers a little at the feeling and you gasp.

"tell them to wait! i'll be another 10 minutes."

she's started moving inside you again and you bite your lip trying to keep quiet.

"alright." the sound of footsteps walking away is quiet before nayeon is driving into you again with renewed vigour.

she's hitting the spot inside you that's making your toes curl, her lips are back around your nipple sucking and licking, and then she's using a hand and pressing down lightly on your lower stomach stimulating your g-spot both from the inside and outside and you cry out around her as you come.

you're panting as she brings you back down, caressing your face and pushing your hair back, moving up to leave kisses all across your face again.

you're only able to open your eyes after a minute or so, blinking dazedly at her as she smiles and plants a kiss on your lips.

"listen... if you want... how about you give me a chance to make you feel loved, to show you how beautiful you are, and if you still feel that way about yourself afterwards, then i'll do all those surgeries for you personally, no more questions asked." she's soft against you, and you can't help but nuzzle your head into her neck, still a little boneless.

"okay."

"okay?" her eyes are bright as she pulls back so she can face you.

you nod with a lazy smile and she's hugging you, kissing your face again murmuring sweet you're so prettys and you did so wells.

too soon and she's lifting herself off you, helping you back into your clothes and standing by the door.

"i'm sorry that i had another appointment. i totally forgot. but i've got your number in my files so i'll message you after work today okay? maybe if you're free tonight we can grab something to eat together?"

you're shy as she's sending you off, nodding a small yes.

"okay don't ghost me now yeah?"

you blush, "y-yeah. see you dr. im."

"nayeon please. you can call me nayeon when we're not... y'know-" she sends you a wink and you only blush more, only barely stopping yourself from bowing to her in apology.

"alright n-nayeon."

"there we go. i'll see you in a bit okay y/n?"

you smile and walk out the door she's opened for you. it would still be a long way before you could be happy with yourself, but you thought maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea to postpone your surgeries for a little and see what im nayeon likes so much about you.

[mysunshinetemptress]

Not Strong Enough

Alexia Putellas x reader

Warnings: angst, relationship issues/breakdown

“Well I’m fucking sorry I’m not her Ale.”

“No you’re not your just a fucking disappointment.”

You stood frozen looking into the fridge cleaning up from a dinner you had made hours ago that Alexia hadn’t even bothered showing up for. You turn slowly looking at the clock behind her head “I don’t want to do this right now.” Alexia shook her head “no I’m so fed up with you, why honestly why can’t you just be like her.” You shook your head looking at the floor feeling your throat close “I don’t know why, I am the way I am I’m sorry I’m not her.” You couldn’t believe you where apologising, you had done nothing wrong but she was Alexia Putellas, La Reina she deserved someone who could match that she deserved Jenni Hermoso and no matter how hard you tried you never got close enough. You shook your head as Alexia just stared at you looking for a fight but you didn't have the energy instead looking up at the ceiling thinking of the ring that burnt a whole in your dresser wishing to be used, you had it all planned out but you saw that future slowly slipping away as Alexia began shouting again so loud you could barley here the song "Boys Don't Cry" playing from the speaker.

You turned to look at her as continued shouting about how much of a disappointment you where to hear, how you would never be enough and you wanted to look at her and hate her for her words but you found yourself believing them and therefore you couldn't hate her if you agreed with her. As the older girl continued to compare you to her ex you couldn't help but think of how you would never be able to be enough for her like Jenni was, you didn't play football, you weren't famous or an influencer you worked a desk job, a 9-5 week in and week out, you didn't have trophies or medals adorned with your name across them you simply had an office where you added up numbers how could an accountant from A Coruna.

You where simply an angel not a god like Jenni, no never a god

You couldn't move as Alexia shouted out all of the ways Jenni was better then you and you felt yourself suddenly begin to realise what was about to happen. This was it the ring in your dresser wasn't screaming at you to get out and be placed on Alexia fingers your mind wasn't telling you to fit the energy was gone.

"SAY SOMETHING" you looked up at Alexia as your eyes refocused and you where pulled back to present time "What do you want me to say Ale" you sighed heavily tired of it all "See this is what I mean at least Jenni would talk to me, communicate her feelings with me you shut off." you subbed your eyes god did they feel heavy. "Theres no point." you moved to the drawer taking out your car keys before heading upstairs to pack your bag.

Alexia stood shocked as you waled past her to the front door "At least Jenni would fight for us you are walking away such a disappointment." you turned shaking your head. "Yes Alexia such a disappointment like you already said, like you have said since this relationship started, I'm done I...I can't take the constant fights after you realise I'm not here and then feel the need to take it out on me its...its not fair.. and the sad part is I tried to be her but I'm sorry I failed at that because I can't....I am me and I thought you loved me for that but clearly I was wrong." Alexia shook her head "Don't make it out like I'm the bad guy you....you only got with me for my name for my status." You looked at her in disbelief how could she ever think that.

"I have loved you before your injury, I have loved you during your injury and the sad part is I will love you long after this injury is healed and you are back to La Reina but I won't be in the stands, who would want such a disappointment of a girlfriend screaming for their return no."

You chucked the keys at her as you walked out the door. Done with never being enough for her always being a disappointment and falling short for always only being an Angel and never a God, for never being Jenni Hermoso

[magicfootballstuff]

Best Mate (georgia stanway x reader) 

Summary: Georgia is your entire world, the love of your life. But you’re probably never going to be more than just her best mate.

(aka 12k words of angst and pining)

———

You’ve known Georgia since you were eleven.

Thirteen years in which you’ve been the closest of friends, through ups and downs. Thirteen years of playing for the same football teams, of carpooling to training and movie nights after matches and sharing rooms on away trips. Thirteen years, basically, in which you could have fallen in love with each other.

There’s a strange kind of irony, a punishment from the fates, that the first time you start to think of Georgia as anything more than your best mate is about three weeks before she moves to Germany.

You blame the Euros, naturally. That’s where you start to catch feelings. A long pre-Euro preparation camp, followed by weeks of heightened emotions as the Lionesses progress further and further into the tournament. It’s been a bonding experience for you all and you’re far closer to all the girls than you were a couple of months ago, but there’s been a shift in your relationship with Georgia specifically that you can’t quite explain.

It’s after the game against Spain that you first notice it. After coming back from behind, Georgia is the one who scores the winner to send you through to the semi finals and it might be the best goal you’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing live. It’s not just the goal - you’ve seen Georgia score screamers from outside the box on countless other occasions in your thirteen years of friendship - but the significance too.

It’s after this game that you actually start to believe you can win the whole tournament, that nothing is going to stop you until you get your hands on the silverware. And that belief starts with Georgia’s goal.

“I fucking love you, G!” you tell her in the dressing room after the game, still riding the euphoric high of beating Spain in such dramatic fashion.

Georgia grins at you.

“I love you too.”

Her words make you feel warm inside but you put it down to being happy about the result.

It’s not until later, lying alone in your bed back at the team hotel, unable to sleep because you’re still so pumped up from one hundred and twenty minutes of difficult football, that you hear Georgia’s words over and over again in your head and realise what it means.

I love you too.

Shit. You’re falling in love with Georgia Stanway. Your best mate.

What a cliche.

But you’ve spent thirteen years of friendship not being in love with Georgia. It should be pretty easy to brush any hypothetical feelings aside. Right?

———

It’s not. 

Actually, it turns out that acknowledging you have feelings for Georgia only makes them grow more.

You sit next to her on the coach on the way back from Bramall Lane after beating Sweden in the semi final. Around you, the whole team is jubilant, but all you can think about is how you can smell Georgia’s shampoo and feel the warmth of her thigh pressing into yours.

Shit, you’ve got it bad.

“We’re going to Wembley,” Georgia says. “Can you believe it?”

“Stuff of dreams, right?” you grin at her.

“And I get to do it with my best mate.”

The words ‘best mate’, while true, are like a knife to your heart and you’re reminded that you’ll only ever be Georgia’s best mate.

You try to shake yourself out of it. You’ve been Georgia’s friend for over a decade, you can keep being her friend, no problems at all. Because surely it’s better to be her friend than to risk messing things up and being nothing at all?

Except that she moves to Munich in two weeks. What if she loves it there, what if she prefers her new teammates to the old ones, what if she has such a good time there that she completely forgets about her old life in Manchester?

And you hate yourself for even thinking that. Georgia deserves to be happy. You know how excited she is to move abroad, how much she’s looking forward to the challenge of playing for a new team in a new league after spending so long at Manchester City. As her friend, you want the best for her, you want her to thrive in the new environment and be happy with her Bayern teammates as she settles into life in Munich.

You just hope that she doesn’t forget about you in the process.

“You’re quiet,” Georgia says, drawing you out of your own thoughts. “Wanna talk about it?”

You shrug, then give a half truth.

“Just trying to soak this moment in,” you tell her. “This feels special. No matter what happens in the final, I don’t want to forget the feeling of being part of this team.”

“I’m never gonna forget this,” Georgia says, sinking into your side and when she lets her head fall against your shoulder, you allow yourself just the briefest moment to imagine that she’s talking about this exact moment on the bus with you, not the summer of incredible football. “Would be pretty cool to win the damn thing though, right? One more trophy together before I leave.”

You never want this summer to end. Because as soon as it ends, Georgia leaves and you lose your best mate. You lose the person you’re in love with.

You have a feeling that this moment is going to be one that you come back to over and over again when you’re missing her, and you try even harder to commit every detail to memory.

———

Inevitably, the tournament does come to an end, but in the blur of playing an intense final at Wembley, winning said final, and the celebrations that continue long into the night, you almost forget that this is one of your last nights together with Georgia before she leaves for Germany.

Eventually, you and Georgia find your way back to each other, as you always seem to do. You have no idea what time it is, no idea how many drinks you’ve had, but it’s the early hours of the morning and most friends and family have either left or gone to bed, leaving just the players to continue their celebrations. You can still hear distant music and the occasional shout from downstairs, but you end up on the carpeted floor of a deserted hallway, side by side with Georgia. You’re sitting so close that the thighs of your outstretched legs are touching, and Georgia leans her head on your shoulder. You're holding hands too, though you don’t know who initiates that. Maybe it just happened because it felt right.

“I’m so proud of you, G,” you tell her, tracing your thumb across the back of her hand. “For everything - for today, for everything you did at City, for choosing to take a leap in your career.”

Georgia has hardly spoken about her impending transfer since it was announced, not while she’s been so focused on the tournament, and other than a couple of jokes this evening hoping that her new teammates will still welcome her after beating so many of them today, it’s been easy to pretend that she’s not about to move to another country. But now that the tournament is over, you have to face up to the reality sooner or later that your best friend is about to spread her wings and embark on a new journey that doesn’t involve you.

“Stop it, you’re gonna make me cry. And we’re supposed to be happy right now. We’re supposed to be celebrating.”

“I’m gonna miss you though. Bayern are lucky to have you.”

Your hand is still in Georgia’s, fingers linked together, though you don’t remember how it happened, whether it was you who took her hand or her who took yours. But her skin is so soft, especially on the back of her hand where you trace mindless patterns with your thumb.

“You’re still gonna be my favourite though, you know that right?” Georgia promises you.

“I am?” you ask, turning your head to look at her.

“Yeah, you’re my day one. Even when we live in different countries. I’m still gonna be talking to you every day.”

“I’m gonna be thinking about you every day,” you confess. “Every second, even.”

It’s only after the words slip from your lips that you realise you might have said too much, that you’re getting dangerously close to telling Georgia about the feelings that you promised yourself that you were going to keep secret.

“Yeah?” Georgia asks, her voice barely more audible than a whisper.

And just like the hand-holding, you have no idea who initiates what comes next, you’re just aware that your lips are on Georgia’s, or maybe hers are on yours, but who the fuck cares who leant in first when it feels this damn good.

Her lips are as soft as her hands, softer maybe, and she tastes like a combination of the free beer you’ve been drinking all night and something else, maybe optimism, if such a thing has a taste. But you’re very quickly unable to process much at all, senses overwhelmed, because Georgia is kissing you. Georgia, who you’ve been friends with since you were awkward teenagers with spotty faces and bruised knees, whose kisses are like a drug that you’re surely going to get addicted to because how could you not want to do this forever?

Just when you’re considering the logistics of pulling Georgia into your lap to continue this further, she pulls away from you, giggling as she wipes at her lips with captivating fingers.

“Shit, I’ve had way too much to drink,” Georgia says. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

She leans her head back against the wall behind you both, her eyes closed, and you try to keep yourself together, though your heart feels like a fragile sheet of glass that could shatter under even the tiniest amount of pressure.

“It’s fine,” you tell her, even though your lips still burn from her kiss. Even though you’re probably never going to be the same again. “We’re both drunk.”

———

The next morning, Georgia is wearing the most ridiculous pair of sunglasses you’ve ever seen, so huge that they mask half her entire face, but maybe that’s the intention because when she sits down next to you on the coach that’s supposed to take you to Trafalgar Square, she lets out a groan and says, “I don’t think I’ve ever been this hungover in my life.”

“I think I’m still drunk,” you admit. Your head isn’t pounding, it’s just swimming, the alcohol not yet worn off out of your system. It’ll hit you at some point today, you’re sure of that, and it’ll be torture. 

“Did I kiss you last night?” Georgia asks, pushing the sunglasses up onto the top of her head and frowning quizzically at you.

The way she asks, it’s almost like she doesn’t quite remember, and that stings a little. It’s pretty much the only thing you’ve thought about in the five drunken hours since it happened.

“Oh,” you say, trying to sound just as casual about it as Georgia does. “Yeah. I’d forgotten about that until you mentioned it.”

The lie is easy because there’s no way that you’re going to admit how affected you are by something as simple as the memory of her lips on yours.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Georgia grimaces. “Emotional day, and all that. We’re still cool, aren’t we?”

“Course we are,” you answer, and it’s mostly the truth - Georgia could commit a serious crime and you’d still think she was the best person on earth.

She’s got no reason to know the depth of your feelings for her, no reason to understand that kissing you might have done more damage than if you’d never got the chance to feel Georgia’s lips against yours at all.

———

You decide to confide in Keira.

“I think I’m in love with Georgia,” you confess, during pre-season, still ignoring the rumours that Keira might be moving abroad soon too.

“Our Georgia?” she asks for clarification, as if the idea is so ridiculous that she can’t quite believe what you’re telling her. “Georgia Stanway?”

You nod, and Keira presses on with her next question.

“Have you told her?” she asks.

“Why would I do that?” you scoff.

“Why wouldn’t you? What have you got to lose?”

“Only thirteen years of friendship,” you point out.

“Obviously it’s your decision, but worst case scenario she doesn’t feel the same and things carry on as normal.”

“Worst case scenario I lose one of the longest friendships I’ve got,” you interject to correct Keira.

“G’s not like that though,” Keira dismisses your worries with a wave of her hand. “She wouldn’t just cast you aside because of something like this. Anyway, she’s in a different country now. By the time you next see each other she’ll have forgotten all about it and things will be back to normal.”

“I’ll think about it.”

———

You do think about it. In fact, it’s pretty much all you think about.

One international break passes, then another, without you saying anything to Georgia about how you feel. You’re practically glued to her side for the whole of both camps, or maybe she’s glued to yours, because you somehow seem to end up alongside her even when you’re making an effort to not seem like you’re obsessed with her.

That plan clearly isn’t working, because on the penultimate night of the second international break, Keira brings it up when the two of you are alone.

“You’re not being subtle,” she tells you.

“Huh?”

“About G,” she explains. “If you think it’s not obvious you have feelings for her, you’re wrong.”

“Yeah but I’ve told you,” you point out, in a half-hearted attempt to justify the way you’ve probably been staring at Georgia with huge puppy dog eyes for the last week. “You know what you’re looking for.”

“Have you told Leah?” Keira asks, arching an eyebrow. “Because she asked me yesterday if you and Georgia were closer than usual so she’s noticed something too.”

“What did you say?” you demand, your eyes widening in panic.

“Don’t worry, I told her you used to be inseparable at City and that you probably just missed seeing each other every day. I think she bought it.”

You relax, or at least you try to, because if Keira says it’s obvious and even Leah has noticed your heart-eyes, then it can’t be long before Georgia herself realises, and then she’ll surely want to distance herself from you.

“Just talk to her,” Keira pleads with you. “You’re one of my best mates too and I hate seeing you like this. Even if nothing happens between you and Georgia, at least you’ll get closure by talking to her.”

You know that Keira is right. You’ve known Georgia for so long that you’d like to hope she won’t make things weird if you tell her how you feel and she doesn’t feel the same. You need an answer, so you can get over your feelings if nothing is ever going to happen.

And you fully intend to talk to her on the last night of camp. But you have a game tomorrow so you decide not to say anything for the risk of somehow upsetting the equilibrium of the team, and then before you know it Georgia is on a plane back to Munich while you return to Manchester and still nothing has been said.

Another time.

In the meantime, your heart continues to ache for something you’ll probably never get to have.

———

You’ll tell her when she comes home for Christmas, that’s what you decide. No England camp, no training or matches to use as an excuse for not telling her how you feel. Just two old friends catching up on what’s been going on in their lives - and so what if one of the most important thing that’s going on in yours is the depth of the feelings you currently have for your best friend?

You’re nervous for two full days before you see Georgia, your heart pounding each time you think of the enormity of the conversation you need to have with her. Telling her how you feel could change everything for better or for worse and even right up to the moment when you’re on your way to meet her, you’re still not sure if you have the courage to actually tell her.

You meet Georgia for lunch at Jill’s coffee shop, because Georgia’s only in Manchester for a few days before she jets off to Barcelona to see Keira and she wants to see as many people as she can while she’s back, but once you’ve both shared a bit of playful banter with Jill when she brings you your food and drinks, the two of you are left alone in a quiet corner of the shop.

“I’ve been dying to tell you something,” Georgia says, almost as soon as Jill leaves you alone. “I was gonna text you but I really wanted to tell you in person.”

She loves you too. That’s the first conclusion that your brain jumps to, because you can’t think of anything else she might have to tell you that’s important enough to be said face-to-face rather than over the phone.

She loves you too. She loves you t-

“I’m seeing someone,” Georgia announces.

And just like that, your heart shatters into a million tiny pieces.

She doesn’t love you.

“You are?” you ask, trying not to let the pain show on your face - this is supposed to be your best friend telling you that she’s found somebody, after all, and if you weren’t hopelessly in love with Georgia yourself, you’d surely be happy about this development in her life.

“Yeah, a guy back in Germany. His name’s Nico - he’s one of Syd’s mates so I met him through her. It’s still really new, like he’s not my boyfriend or anything, but we’ve been on a couple of dates and I think it’s going pretty well.”

“Cool,” you say, and then immediately kick yourself, because what kind of heartless idiot says cool when their best friend announces they’re dating someone, which is why you add, “I’m so happy for you.”

There’s a degree of truth to your words. Though on a selfish level you want Georgia to reciprocate your feelings and be happy with you, that’s not very likely to happen when you’re too much of a coward to tell her how you feel and obviously the most important thing is that Georgia is happy with whoever she chooses. You just hope that if it can’t be with you, that this Nico guy at least treats her well and gives her the happiness she deserves.

“Anyway, what’s going on with you?” Georgia asks, taking a sip of her hot chocolate. “Any big life updates?”

If there was ever a moment to tell Georgia that you’re in love with her, it would be now, when she’s inviting you to open up about what’s been going on in your life. But Georgia is clearly excited about this guy that she’s dating, or else she wouldn’t have waited until she saw you in person before making it the first thing she brought up, and what kind of friend would you be if you tried to ruin that for your own selfish reasons?

“Nothing much,” you answer with a shrug. “Nothing as exciting as your news. Anyway, tell me about Munich. Are the German lessons still kicking your arse?”

———

Keira calls you a few days later, when you know that Georgia is in Barcelona too, probably sharing the same news about her dating life with Keira that she told you the other day.

“You’ve seen G, then?” she asks, once you’ve caught up on your own lives.

“Yeah, we had lunch together a few days ago.”

“Did she tell you…?”

“About her new boyfriend?” you interject, completing Keira’s question. “Yeah.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Keira asks.

You can practically hear the pity in her voice and it cuts you almost as much as Georgia’s news about her dating life.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you try to dismiss it quickly, before you end up getting upset, or angry, or both. “She’s happy, that’s all that matters. I missed my chance.”

“Did you ever tell her?”

Keira doesn’t need to elaborate on exactly what she’s asking about and for that you’re grateful.

“No,” you answer. “But it’s too late now anyway.”

“I don’t think it is,” Keira counters. “It doesn’t sound very serious yet with this German guy.”

“Keira, if there was any chance she felt the same she’d have told me.”

“You mean like you’ve told her how you feel?” Keira asks.

Though you can’t actually see Keira’s face, you can picture it, one eyebrow arched at you and mouth twitching at the corners as she calls you out.

“It’s different,” you try to argue. “She wouldn’t be dating someone else if she had feelings for me.”

“Well if you aren’t ever going to tell her, maybe you should think about dating someone else. You know, a couple of the Barca girls are single. If you don’t mind the distance, I could put in a good word for you.”

There’s only one person you’d be willing to put in the effort required for a successful long distance relationship, and it’s Georgia. Besides, while Keira’s right that you’ll have to think about dating someone else eventually, it doesn’t feel fair to mess with somebody else’s feelings before you’ve at least tried to put your feelings for Georgia behind you.

“I’m good, thanks Ke,” you promise Keira.

“Well if you change your mind…”

“I’ll let you know as soon as I do.”

———

You don’t change your mind. Not about being willing for Keira to set you up with one of her club teammates, at least. You do, however, reconsider your decision not to tell Georgia about how you feel.

What can the harm be? If anything, the German boyfriend is a safety net because you have less optimism that Georgia feels the same, fully prepared for her to let you down. 

You phone Georgia when she’s back in Germany in January, entering the conversation with your heart already wrapped in bubble-wrap, in theory protected from being broken.

“Hey G, are you busy?”

“I’m never too busy to talk to you,” Georgia replies.

Your heart soars, giving you the courage to say, “Cool, well there’s actually something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Go on, I’m listening.”

“I was gonna say something when you were back in England but then you … well, you had your news and I didn’t want to ruin that.”

You pause and take a deep breath, glad that you’re doing this over the phone so that Georgia can’t see the sheer physical anguish you’re going through to psych yourself up to tell her this.

“I love you.”

There’s a moment of silence on the other end of the phone, then Georgia speaks.

“Aw, you big softie,” she teases you. “Love you too.”

You close your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose. Part of you wants to leave it there, the idea of having to correct Georgia’s misunderstanding somehow even worse than having to admit you love her in the first place, but you can hear Keira’s voice in your head telling you to grow a pair and tell Georgia how you really feel.

“No, I … I mean that I love you,” you clarify. “Not just as a friend. Like, I’m properly in love with you.”

“Oh,” Georgia says. There’s silence on the other end of the line as she processes what you’ve told her, before she eventually repeats, “Oh. Shit, okay.”

It’s not exactly the reaction you were hoping for and though you’d prepared yourself for probable rejection, you couldn’t actually have prepared for the punch in the gut that is the pure surprise from Georgia, as if the idea of there being anything more than friendship between the two of you is so far-removed that she’s never once even considered the possibility.

“Forget I said anything,” you say quickly, eager to put this torturous ordeal behind you. “I’m just being stupid. It’s nothing I can’t get over.”

“No, wait!” Georgia blurts out. “It’s not stupid. It’s just … unexpected, I guess. You’ve surprised me, that’s all.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumble.

“No, don’t apologise! I’m glad you told me. The thing is, I do love you too. Just as a friend.”

And despite all the preparation you did beforehand to try to protect yourself from the pain of inevitable rejection, hearing Georgia confirm aloud what you already knew still causes your heart to splinter into tiny pieces. 

“Okay,” you say, trying to swallow the lump that’s formed in your throat. “That’s what I needed to hear. Now I can move on. And I understand if you don’t want anything to do with me-”

“Are you kidding?” Georgia interrupts you. “This doesn’t change anything. It takes courage to tell someone how you feel. I’m not gonna punish you for that. Anyway, you’ll always be super important to me. So unless you need a bit of space…?”

“No,” you’re quick to say. “I don’t need space.”

“Then you’re not getting rid of me anytime soon,” Georgia reassures you.

A single tear spills from your eye and you wipe it away quickly, even though Georgia can’t see you, because you’re worried that if you let it trickle the whole way down your cheek, it’ll be followed by a flood. The only thing that could make this more embarrassing that it already is would be if you burst into tears and Georgia heard you crying.

“Thanks, G.”

———

“I hate to admit it, but you were right,” you tell Keira, as you make your way out to the training pitch at St George’s Park on the first morning of the February international break, a few weeks on from telling Georgia how you feel - how you felt. “I just needed closure.”

“From Georgia?” Keira asks for clarification.

“Yeah. It turns out that finding out she doesn’t feel the same was a really quick way to shut down whatever stupid feelings I thought I had for her.”

“I think you’re being hard on yourself. It’s not stupid to catch feelings, especially for someone like G.”

“It was just emotion from the Euros,” you try to explain. “Then the distance. I was missing her. I got a bit carried away, that’s all. Anyway, she’s got her German guy now.”

“Not anymore,” Keira tells you. “That fizzled out a while ago.”

“It did?” you ask, your head jerking up in surprise when you hear the news. “She never told me that.”

“Yeah, well…” Keira trails off with a grimace, and you don’t need her to finish her sentence to understand what she’s saying.

“Right.”

You probably sacrificed your right to hear about Georgia’s personal life when you attempted to insert yourself into it by confessing your feelings for her. And if you’re completely honest, though you still talk to Georgia pretty often, there has been a slight shift in what you talk about, more superficial football chat and fewer deep conversations about all the other stuff going on in your lives.

Not for the first time since telling Georgia how you felt, you wonder if admitting your feelings was the wrong decision after all.

You hear footsteps behind you, the telltale sound of studs against concrete, and you turn to see Georgia, who inserts herself between you and Keira and drapes an arm around each of your shoulders.

“Hey guys, whatcha talking about?”

“The weather,” Keira is quick to save you the turmoil of having to come up with a lie yourself. “Thought it was cold in Barcelona at this time of year but I’d forgotten how much worse it is in England.”

“This?” Georgia scoffs, gesturing at the bleak grey sky above. “It’s tanning weather. I don’t know what you’re complaining about.”

“You’re mad,” Keira says, shaking her head as she eyes up Georgia’s bare arms.

“Not mad,” Georgia counters with a grin. “Just happy to be back in England with my best mates.”

You don’t know how it makes you feel, hearing Georgia refer to you as a “best mate” again. She’s clearly making an effort to make sure you know that nothing has changed, that your sudden confession of feelings a few weeks ago hasn’t made Georgia think any differently of you than she thinks of Keira. But it still stings a little, all those hours spent wondering what if and picturing a hypothetical parallel universe in which Georgia returns your affection coming to nothing.

In the back of your mind, it registers that a public friendzoning shouldn’t hurt if you were as over your feelings for Georgia as you claimed to Keira that you were, but you push that thought down for now.

———

You don’t actually speak to Georgia alone until later, hanging out in one of the communal recreation areas during the free time you get between a gym session and dinner.

“I meant what I said earlier,” Georgia says. “It’s good to be back together again. And we haven’t seen each other in person since…”

Georgia trails off, leaving you to fill in the rest yourself.

Deciding that the best way to get past the slight awkwardness is just to acknowledge exactly what happened and laugh it off, you say, “Since I told you I liked you?”

Georgia’s eyes widen, slightly surprised that you’re so blasé about the situation, but she passes it off quickly and says, “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry if I put you in a weird position,” you apologise. “I just needed to say something, even if you didn’t feel the same way, for peace of mind, you know? Just feelings that had been brewing under the surface since the emotion of the Euros…”

“Since the Euros?” Georgia interjects, surprised once again.

“Yeah, but I don’t feel that way anymore,” you continue, fully aware of the fact that your cheeks are starting to heat up with embarrassment. “I got closure and I moved on. I hope things can go back to normal between us.”

Georgia hesitates for a second, like she’s still trying to process everything, before her face splits open into a huge grin.

“Yeah, of course. Nothing’s changed at all.”

You try to remember what normal friends who haven’t admitted feelings for each other talk about, and your mind immediately wanders to the guy she told you about when she was last home. The guy that, if Keira is to be believed, is no longer in the picture.

“How’s it going with that guy you’re dating?” you ask, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear it from Georgia too.

“Nico? I’m not seeing him anymore. Like he was nice, but he was … I don’t know, he was just nice. There was no real spark, or nothing.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

It’s partially true. If you can’t have Georgia yourself, you want her to be happy with somebody, though you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t done some social media stalking after she told you about him and he didn’t seem like anybody particularly remarkable. In a way, it’s a relief to hear that confirmed by Georgia herself.

“Nah, it’s fine,” Georgia says, dismissing your words with a casual wave of her hand. “It wasn’t serious anyway. And I wanted to tell you it was over but I didn’t know how. I didn’t want you to think I was messing with your feelings, or anything.”

“I get it,” you assure Georgia. “But you don’t have to worry about that. There aren’t any feelings to mess with anymore. That’s all behind me.”

Georgia narrows her eyes just slightly, like she’s not quite sure she believes you, but it passes so quickly that you might have imagined it.

“Cool,” Georgia says. “Anyway, did you see that worldie I scored in training earlier?”

And so the conversation moves on, back to normal with your best friend.

———

It does go back to how it was before, for which you’re relieved. Your biggest worry about admitting your feelings for Georgia was that it would ruin your friendship if she didn’t reciprocate, so you’re glad that you’re still just as close as you were before Christmas.

The problem is that now you’re back to talking to Georgia all the time, whether that’s messaging each other, ganging up together on Leah in the group chat, or FaceTiming to have a general catch up about life, you’re starting to realise that maybe you’re not over your feelings for her after all.

Can you really be blamed? Georgia is like a human ray of sunshine, lighting up your world with her silly jokes and beautiful smile, even from another country.

Surely everybody who meets Georgia falls a little bit in love with her?

Still, Georgia has made it pretty clear that your relationship is never going to move beyond friends, and you’re content to have her in your life in whatever way she’ll allow you, even if you’re still harbouring feelings for her.

You don’t tell Keira either. She asks you about Georgia a couple of times, just casual questions in passing which you respond to with reassurances that you’re getting along like old friends again, that her rejection was enough to extinguish your feelings. If there’s one thing that’s more humiliating than admitting to your best friend that you’re in love with her only to be turned down, it’s having to deal with the constant pity of another friend concerned about a possible broken heart. So you tell Keira that everything is fine and she seems to believe you.

It is fine. You are fine.

(And if you tell yourself that enough times, one day it’ll eventually become true.)

———

You have a plan.

And it’s not a plan that you’re making because you’re in love with Georgia. It’s a plan for your best mate who lives abroad and you miss dearly.

So when Georgia’s Bayern Munich team draws Arsenal in the quarter final of the Champions League, you go straight to the airport from training on the day of the match and catch the next flight to Munich to watch her play.

As you sit next to Georgia’s mum in the stadium, who makes a comment about how nice it is that her daughter’s best friend has flown all the way from Manchester just to support her in one game, you try telling yourself that you’re not just here for Georgia, that you know Leah and Lotte and several of the other Arsenal girls and you’ve come to watch them too, but as the game progresses you’re only really watching one person. 

You’ve always known that Georgia is good - you’ve played alongside her for more than a decade at England age groups and then at City, watched her put in tackles that others wouldn’t dare to try and score goals from outside the box that would make anybody drool. But there’s a big difference between seeing Georgia play in training or when you’re on the same team as her, and actually watching her play. It’s an exciting match, a close match, with good performances from players on both sides, but you watch Georgia far more than any other players, your eyes tracking her even when she’s off the ball.

Bayern come away with the win, though only just, and you’re already trying to figure out whether you can make it down to London and back in a single night next week for the second leg that promises to be as exciting as the first. For the quality of football, you tell yourself, not just for another chance to see the best friend that you miss terribly.

You watch as Georgia greets the fans, smiling for pictures and signing shirts in the process, slowly making her way along the edge of the pitch until she reaches the area where you are. Her eyes search the crowd, no doubt looking for her mum, but she does a double take when she spots you and you carefully manoeuvre your way forward until you’re close enough to talk to her.

“What are you doing here?” Georgia asks, disbelief in her eyes.

“I’m here to see Leah,” you joke.

“Oh, I’ll just go and fetch her for you then, shall I?” Georgia grins at you. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“Have you never heard of a surprise?”

Georgia just rolls her eyes.

“How long are you here for?” she asks.

“Just tonight,” you answer. “I managed to convince Gareth to let me have tomorrow off training so I fly back first thing. I wish I could stay longer, but we’ve got a league game at the weekend.”

“Are you coming next week?” Georgia asks. “To the second leg? At the Emirates?”

“Do you want me to come?”

Georgia nods enthusiastically and says, “Yeah, course I do.” She pauses, then adds, “Only if you want to, though. I know it’s a long way to travel.”

“I’ll be there,” you promise. A wicked smile spreads across your face as you add, “To see Leah again, of course.”

Georgia rolls her eyes and says, “Dickhead.”

“Be nice, Georgia,” Georgia’s mum interjects. “She’s come all this way to see you.”

“Relax, mum, it’s just banter,” Georgia protests. “She knows I love her really.”

Love. That word again. Because Georgia does love you, of that you’re certain, but not in the way you want her to.

But as you look down at your best friend over the barrier that separates the players from the fans, her brown eyes alight and a smile on her face as she stares back at you, you realise that you’ll take Georgia’s love, however much of it there is and in whatever form it comes in, just to see her smile like this.

———

The weather is terrible. Unrelenting rain turns the four hour drive from Manchester to London into a five and a half hour drive with limited visibility on the motorways. The prospect of spending an evening in this torrential downpour for at least the two hours of the match, possibly longer if the game goes to extra time and penalties, is brightened only with the knowledge that you get to see your best friend again just a week after you last saw her.

Unfortunately the game doesn’t go Bayern’s way. Despite bringing in a one goal lead from the first leg, that hard work is quickly undone by two Arsenal goals in quick succession in the first half. You’re largely neutral to the outcome of this game, except that you aren’t because you want to see Georgia succeed, and she seems to double her efforts when Bayern go behind, putting even more into every challenge, every pass, determined not to lose.

You’re kidding yourself if you think you’re a neutral fan in this game because when the final whistle goes and the Arsenal fans start celebrating a hard-fought victory, your heart aches for Georgia and what could’ve been. But Georgia is a ray of sunshine, even in defeat, and still makes time for all the fans.

When you finally get to see her, inside the stadium after she’s showered and changed out of her wet kit, you’re actually more disappointed than she is about the outcome of the game.

“That’s football, isn’t it?” Georgia says with a shrug, after you’ve exchanged a long hug and offered her your commiserations. “Thanks for coming down though. It’s good to see you again. I missed you.”

Her words make your heart flutter and you play it off the only way you know how - with humour.

“It’s only been a week, G,” you remind her, rolling your eyes.

“A week is a long time when we used to see each other every day,” she points out. 

“And whose fault is that?” you tease her.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Georgia rolls her eyes at you. “What are you doing now?”

It’s already late and the drive back to Manchester will be a long one so as much as you want to hang around and cherish every moment with Georgia, you know you need to get on the road soon.

“Gotta drive back home soon,” you tell her.

“To Manchester?” Georgia asks her eyes wide. “Nah, no way I’m letting you drive back through the night, especially not in this weather.”

“But…”

“No buts,” Georgia interrupts you. “I’ll text you the address of our hotel and you can stay with me. Drive back in the morning.”

You’re supposed to have training in the morning and you don’t want to imagine the trouble you’ll get yourself into if you don’t show up. But this is Georgia, and is a bit of a telling off from the coaches not worth spending a bit of extra time with her? Besides, can you not just set an early alarm and drive back home straight to the training ground in the morning? You’re not needed until ten anyway…

“Fine,” you nod, trying to pretend that the decision was harder than it actually was, pretending that you wouldn’t jump off a cliff for Georgia with very little hesitation if she asked you nicely enough. 

———

Georgia meets you in the lobby of her hotel just over thirty minutes later, already dressed in pyjamas with a battered pair of sliders on her feet. She grins when she sees you and reaches straight for your hand, not even bothering with a proper greeting.

“Come on,” Georgia says, dragging you into the lift and pressing the button for the fifth floor. “Before anyone sees you.”

The lift doors rattle shut and it starts to rise. You turn to Georgia and ask, “Is this gonna get you in trouble?”

Georgia grins at you, then replies, “Only if we get caught.”

Your heart is pounding in your chest, so loud that Georgia must be able to hear it echoing around the confined elevator too, and you’re not sure if it’s racing from the thrill of trying not to get caught or because Georgia’s hand is still in yours, her warm palm pressed against yours and your fingers tangled together. 

Does Georgia even realise that she’s still holding your hand, or the effect that it’s having on you? Because it’s pretty much all you can think about as the lift ascends, your heart hammering away until the rush of blood in your ears is so strong that you might faint.

The lift can’t reach Georgia’s floor soon enough, but eventually it does arrive and the doors slide open with a soft ping, and then Georgia is dragging you along the carpeted hallway until she reaches the door to her room.

“Shhh,” Georgia hisses as she unlocks the door, ushering you inside as she finally lets go of your hand. “In you go.”

You enter Georgia’s hotel room and she closes the door behind the two of you. It’s a pretty standard room, a large double bed in the middle, a tv screen hanging from the wall beside a door that leads to the adjoining bathroom. Georgia’s suitcase is open on the floor, a few clothes strewn across the floor and the chair in the corner.

“Do you want a shower to warm up?” Georgia asks you. “I can lend you some spare clothes to sleep in.”

“Yeah, sounds nice,” you nod, shivering as you’re reminded that you’re still wearing your rain-soaked clothes from earlier.

Georgia kneels beside her suitcase and rummages around in it until she pulls out a spare pair of shorts with the Bayern logo on them and an oversized t-shirt, which she passes to you as she stands up again.

“Spare towel is on the rail in the bathroom,” she explains. “Pass us your wet clothes when you’ve taken them off and I’ll hang them up to dry.”

You smile your thanks and wander into the bathroom, turning on the hot water of the shower before stripping out of your wet clothes. Wrapping a towel around yourself for warmth and modesty, you open the door just wide enough to pass your clothes through to Georgia, who promises to hang them up by the radiator to dry overnight, before shutting yourself in the bathroom and stepping into the shower to warm up.

You spend longer than you probably need to in the shower but the warm water cascading over your head is more than welcome and it gives you time to think. To think about the fact that you’re here in Georgia’s hotel room, about to spend the night in her bed, wearing her spare clothes, when you should really be halfway up the motorway back to Manchester right now.

For some reason, your conscience warning you against this appears in the form of Keira’s voice.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Keira’s voice asks you in your head. “You’re still trying to get over her. Is this really going to help?”

“It’s fine,” you whisper aloud into the empty bathroom, your words masked by the sound of water hitting the tiles. “We’re just friends and that’s fine.”

It’s far from the first sleepover you’ve had with Georgia. You’ve known each other for well over a decade and spent your teenage years sleeping over at each other’s houses gossiping and giggling well into the night until a parent came in to hush you and urge you to get some sleep. You’ve shared rooms on countless camps before, during tournaments with England or on away trips with Manchester City. And since growing up and getting your own places, there have been movie nights that ended late where it was easier for one of you to stay over instead of driving back late.

In short, you’ve shared a bed with Georgia many times before.

You haven’t shared a bed since you realised you had feelings for her last summer, and definitely not since you admitted those feelings a couple of months ago.

But if Georgia’s comfortable with it, then you shouldn’t have a problem either.

You finally get out of the shower, when you’re completely warmed through and your fingertips are starting to shrivel from being under the water for so long. You dry off and change into the clothes borrowed from Georgia, then spend a bit of time drying your hair with a towel and brushing your teeth using the spare hotel-issued brush still in its plastic wrapper, before you eventually unlock the bathroom door and return to the bedroom.

Georgia is sitting upright in bed looking down at the screen of her phone, bathed in the yellow glow of the bedside lamp. She glances up when she hears the bathroom door open and smiles, whether at the sight of you in her clothes or some other reason, you’re not quite sure. 

“You still like to sleep furthest from the door, right?” she asks, shuffling across to leave plenty of room for you in the bed beside her.

“You gonna protect me from intruders?” you tease her, as you clamber into the empty side of the bed.

Georgia is a few inches shorter than you, but you’ve seen the way she tackles on a football pitch and you have no doubt that she’d do better in a fight than you.

“Course I will,” Georgia grins back at you. “Ready for bed? Can I turn the light off?”

You nod and settle yourself down, adjusting the pillow and pulling the covers up over your shoulders as you roll onto your side. Georgia flicks off the light, then there’s some shuffling on her side of the bed, before you both fall still.

With your eyes not yet adjusted to the darkness, you can’t actually see Georgia more than just a shadow on her side of the bed, but you’re pretty sure she’s lying on her side facing you. 

And that’s when it truly hits you. You’re sharing a bed with Georgia, close enough to touch her, close enough to be able to hear her breathing, but knowing that you can’t do anything about the ache in your chest.

You have no idea how you’re going to calm your mind or your heart enough to be able to fall asleep tonight.

You shiver - whether that’s because you’re still cold or for some other reason like Georgia’s proximity - but it’s enough that she notices.

“Shit, are you still cold?” Georgia whispers into the darkness. 

“No, it’s fine,” you say, but your body betrays you again with another shiver.

“Come here,” Georgia says, though it’s her, not you, that closes the gap between you, shuffling her body closer until she can wrap her arms around you and pull your body against hers. Your feet intertwine at the bottom of the bed, hers warmer than yours, though she makes no complaint. “Nothing warms you up like a little cuddle.”

It’s not just a little cuddle though. This is a cuddle with your best friend who you’re more than a little bit in love with, who is kind enough to let you stay here despite the fact she could get in trouble, who has lent you her clothes and let you use her shower and now offers her arms to keep you warm. Your best friend who can surely now feel as well as hear the pounding of your heart as you nestle your body against hers beneath the covers.

Your eyes have started adjusting to the darkness and now you can see how close her face is to yours, your foreheads separated by barely an inch, and she’s staring right back at you, her warm breath hitting your face with each exhale.

“G…”

You breathe her name into the space between your lips, ready to tell her that you can’t do this, ready to admit that you still have feelings for her and that you need to leave, drive back to Manchester even though it’s the middle of the night and you’ve got no dry clothes, because otherwise you might do something that you regret.

But you don’t get the chance to say anything, because suddenly Georgia’s warm lips are on yours, soft and unmoving and so incredibly tentative, but also so right.

She lingers for a few seconds, then pulls back, her chest rising and falling more deeply than before with each breath, as she asks, “Sorry, I … was that okay?”

“You shouldn’t kiss me if you don’t mean it,” you say, just about ready to combust into tears, such is the intensity of the feelings overwhelming your entire body for the other girl. 

You don’t know what to expect from Georgia, but it’s definitely not what she says next.

“And what if I do mean it?”

Her voice is quiet, her words cautious. You’re so used to Georgia being her usual loud and effervescent self that you barely recognise the tone of her voice, but she sounds almost vulnerable.

“I’m so far gone on you, G,” you admit. “I thought I could get over you but I can’t. I need you to know that you could shatter my heart and stamp on all the tiny pieces and I’d still want to be yours. And if there’s even the smallest part of you that doesn’t mean it, then we should forget that ever happened and…”

You don’t get to finish your sentence because Georgia’s mouth is on yours again, hotter and more insistent this time. You gasp as she kisses you and her mouth opens too, her hand coming up to cup your jaw as her tongue swipes past your lips. The sound you let out is involuntary and you would be embarrassed, if not for the fact that you can’t think of anything except Georgia - her lips on yours, her body wrapped around you, her hands burning your skin.

Eventually, breathing becomes a necessity and Georgia must agree because she pulls back, though only far enough to lean her forehead against yours as she says, “I think I’m in love with you.”

“You think?” you ask, needing Georgia to be absolutely certain before you let yourself hope.

“I’m pretty sure,” Georgia corrects herself. “I’m still figuring it out but I’ve been thinking about it ever since you told me you liked me, and then when you showed up in Munich last week to surprise me … nobody’s ever done something like that for me before. And I can’t imagine anyone else making me feel the way that you do. You’re so much more to me than just a best mate. You’re … you’re everything to me.”

“Do you really mean it?”

Georgia nods.

“Whatever I have to do to convince you I mean it…”

“Just hold me,” you tell her, pushing your body further into hers and nuzzling your face into the crook of her neck.

“Just hold you?” Georgia asks, her hand squeezing your hip, and though you can’t see her face, you can picture the smirk on her face anyway.

You lift your head and use the element of surprise to roll Georgia onto her back, trapping her against the mattress with one of your legs framed on each side of her hips.

“You’ve got other suggestions, have you?” you ask her, raising your eyebrows at her as you sweep your damp hair out of your face.

Her hands settle on your hip tentatively, like she knows what she wants but isn’t quite sure yet whether it’s okay.

“I’ve got some ideas,” Georgia admits, fighting off a mischievous smile.

“Yeah?”

You lean down, still hardly able to believe that this is Georgia telling you that she loves you, that she wants you in the same way that you want her, as you press your lips to hers again. You hope that you’ll never get tired of kissing her because each time feels more magical than the last, as you slowly get used to the way that her lips move, to the things that make her breath catch in her throat as she kisses you back, and you know that there’s a whole other side of your oldest friend that’s now open for you to get to know and explore.

It would be so easy to get carried away, especially when Georgia’s hands, already dangerously low on your hips, start to slide lower, but there will be plenty of time for that, you hope. You’ve waited long enough, thirteen long years, for this to happen. You can wait a little longer.

You reluctantly detach your lips from Georgia’s and settle back against her side, one of your legs slung over her hips and her hands coming up to wrap around your back as you lie half on top of her.

“Another time,” you tell her, as you let your eyes flicker shut, knowing that sleep will be easy to come by with Georgia’s arms around you.

“That’d better be a promise,” Georgia murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple.

You don’t say anything, just laugh softly, and snuggle into her until sleep takes you both.

———

You wake in a different position, spooning Georgia from behind, but no less content than you were when you fell asleep. Georgia is still fast asleep, body rising and falling with each deep breath, and you manage to carefully extract your arms from around her so that you can reach for your phone on the bedside table to check the time.

You let out a soft groan when you see the time because you’re supposed to be at training in Manchester in less than two hours, and as perfect as last night was, finally getting an admission from Georgia that she feels the same, you now have to deal with the consequences of staying overnight in London instead of driving back home last night after the match.

You slip out of bed as quietly as you can, intending to go into the bathroom to call Gareth and give him some kind of made up excuse about why you’re not going to be at training. Something that doesn’t involve having to admit that you prioritised a girl over your career, even though Georgia is so much more than just a girl and last night will hopefully be the first of many that you get to experience falling asleep in her embrace, but you’re not so sure that your manager will understand or approve.

But before you can make it as far as the bathroom, you hear a sleepy voice from behind you.

“You’re not sneaking out on me, are you?”

You turn to the most adorable sight, a sleepy Georgia rubbing at her bleary eyes as she pushes herself up onto one elbow, her hair sticking up at an awkward angle on the side she slept on.

“No, of course not,” you promise her. You hold up your phone and explain, “I just need to make a call. I’ve got training today and obviously I’m not going to make it.”

“Come back to bed,” Georgia pleads with you.

“One sec,” you say, calling Gareth and lifting your phone to your ear as you sit down on the edge of the bed. 

When it rings through to voicemail, you’re a little relieved that you don’t actually have to talk to him in person, and you wait for the tone before leaving your message.

“Hi Gareth,” you say, deliberately rasping your voice as you try to sound as sick as you possibly can. “I’m really sorry but I don’t think I’m going to make it into training today. I’m not feeling well and I’ve already been sick once this morning. Sorry again. I’ll catch up with you soon when I’m feeling better. Bye.”

You hang up and toss your phone aside, ignoring the amused look on Georgia’s face as you get back under the covers.

“Pulling a sickie, eh?” she teases you.

“Shut up,” you grumble, though you still cuddle back into Georgia’s side, tangling your legs together beneath the covers once more.

From this close, you’re taken aback by just how pretty she is. Not that it’s the first time you’ve thought that, but seeing her like this, still slightly heavy-eyed from just waking up, looking back at you with adoration mirrored in her dark eyes, and being able to take it all in without having to worry about whether you get caught staring at her, is brand new. And with whatever limited time you have left before you inevitably have to get up and leave the blissful sanctuary of Georgia’s bed, you just want to kiss her, to feel her body against yours so that you have something tangible to remember this by when she has to go back to Munich.

“Can I kiss you?” you ask.

“You don’t have to ask.”

“I do,” you insist. “Because I can’t believe that last night actually happened. I’m still kinda waiting for you to tell me it’s just a prank.”

Georgia presses forward and her lips meet yours. It’s slower than the kisses you exchanged last night before bed, but you sigh happily into the kiss and bring your hand up to cup Georgia’s cheek. She lets out a little noise that you capture with your own mouth as your fingertips brush against a sensitive spot just below her ear and you make a mental note to revisit the spot later, perhaps with your lips and teeth instead, and vow to find every other spot that makes her whimper and melt into putty.

You make out for a while, a lazy exploration of each other’s mouths without any real destination. Having spent at least the last eight months dreaming of getting to spend quiet mornings in bed with Georgia, kissing until it’s hard to tell where you end and she begins, you’d be quite happy to keep doing this for the rest of eternity, but she eventually pulls back.

“I wish I didn’t have to go back to Germany,” Georgia says, echoing your own thoughts.

“But you love it there,” you remind her, trying to be the voice of reason, even though you wish you could both just exist in the cocoon of this hotel room for the rest of time.

“I love it here too.”

“Here being…?”

“With you,” Georgia clarifies, and your face cracks open into a big grin.

“Didn’t know you were so soppy, G,” you tease her. 

“Neither did I. I guess you bring it out in me.”

“Charmer,” you say, snuggling into her shoulder and sliding your hand under the hem of her t-shirt so that your fingertips can brush across the skin of her hip bone.

“We should really get up,” Georgia says, though she makes no move to do so.

“Five more minutes?” you ask, nuzzling your face into Georgia’s neck and pressing your lips to her pulse point.

“Go on then. Five more minutes.”

———

It’s another twenty minutes before you eventually drag yourselves out of bed, which means you have to rush to get ready and any chance you might have had to slip out of the hotel before any of Georgia’s teammates see you is ruined when you hear a knock on the door.

You’ve redressed in last night’s clothes, now mostly dry, and grab the last of your things as Georgia opens the door, revealing three of her teammates standing out in the hallway.

“Breakfast?” they ask her, before three pairs of eyes look past Georgia and fall on you, slipping your feet into your trainers.

“I should go,” you say, checking your coat pocket for your car keys and wandering over to where Georgia stands at the door once you’re satisfied you’ve got everything. “Text me when your flight lands.”

“I’ll text you before then,” Georgia says, her hand coming up to rest on your waist as she tilts her head up to press a sweet kiss to your lips. It’s far more chaste than the ones you shared last night and this morning but it’s still enough to draw some sniggers out of her teammates.

“Bye,” you whisper against her lips as you pull away.

“Love you,” she says.

“Love you too.”

As you leave the room and walk down the hall, you can hear Georgia’s teammates starting to tease her loudly behind you, and you enter the lift fighting off a smile that has everything to do with the development of your relationship in the last ten hours.

———

Luckily you don’t have to wait long to see Georgia again because just a few days after the Champions League match, she returns to England for another Lionesses camp as you prepare for the Finalissima against Brazil.

Naturally, you smuggle Georgia into your room almost as soon as she arrives on camp and spend the night trying really hard to keep your hands to yourself, because you’ve waited so long for Georgia to be yours that you’re determined to wait a little longer so that your first time together isn’t at St George’s Park while your teammates are trying to sleep in the rooms on either side of yours. But you settle for kissing her heatedly well into the night and waking up with her head resting on your chest and one of her arms draped around your waist.

You’re in such a good mood when you go down to breakfast on the first morning of camp, that you completely forget that nobody else knows about the new development in your relationship with Georgia. Specifically, you forget that Keira, who knows pretty much every other up and down of the last few months, doesn’t yet know that Georgia reciprocates your feelings.

You sit at your usual table for breakfast, Keira opposite you and Georgia setting her tray down next to yours.

“I’m just gonna get some juice,” Georgia says. “Do you want some?”

“No thanks,” you reply, taking a sip from your mug of coffee.

You watch as Georgia wanders over to the jugs of juice, your gaze following the swish of her ponytail before dropping to appreciate her legs and the shape of her butt in her training shorts. It’s only when Keira kicks you under the table, hard enough to surely leave a bruise on your shin, that you snap out of your trance.

“What?” 

“You’re still in love with her, aren’t you?” Keira hisses across the table.

You pause for a second, glancing between Keira and Georgia, who is on her way back to the table with a glass of orange juice, and then you laugh. You can’t help the way that it spills from your throat because Keira is looking at you like being in love with Georgia is the worst thing in the world, and while it might have been painful a week ago, you don’t know how to begin to explain that in the space of just a few days it’s become the best thing that’s ever happened to you.

“What did I miss?” Georgia asks, as she returns to the table and sits down beside you. “What’s so funny?”

“Keira thinks I’m in love with you,” you explain.

Keira’s eyes widen, and now that you’ve got over the initial surprise of her question, you start to wonder if you can have a bit of fun before actually telling her the truth.

Georgia is clearly thinking the same, because she nudges your thigh with hers and says, “Aw, you love me? That’s lame.”

Keira looks even more panicked - understandable given that she’d probably expect Georgia to be a little more considerate towards your feelings if she didn’t reciprocate.

“Can we talk after breakfast?” Keira asks. “Because I’m worried about you. I thought you’d…” Keira’s eyes flit across to Georgia, then back to you, giving you a deliberate look as she says, “… you know.”

“You thought she’d moved on?” Georgia fills in the gap. She puts down her fork, then reaches for your hand, lacing your fingers together and resting them on the table where Keira, and anybody else, can see. “Fat chance of that. She’s obsessed with me.”

Keira looks more confused than ever, and you realise that you probably owe her an explanation.

“G’s my …” You pause, realising that while you’ve both admitted you love each other and there seems to be an understanding that you’re together now, you haven’t actually had a conversation to put an official label on what you are. You turn to Georgia and ask, “Are you my girlfriend?”

“If that’s your way of asking me, it’s not very romantic, is it?” Georgia teases you.

Rolling your eyes, you turn back to Keira and say, “She’s my girlfriend. We’re dating.”

To emphasise your point, you bring your joined hands to your lips and press a kiss to the back of Georgia’s fingers.

Keira’s eyes look like they might pop out of her head at any second.

Leah sits down in the empty seat beside Keira, taking one look at your joined hands, before she says, without a hint of surprise in her voice, “You two have finally got your shit together, then? About bloody time.”

“How are you not more surprised by this?” Keira asks Leah, apparently exasperated by the new development. “I’ve spent months listening to this one,” she jabs an accusatory finger in your direction, “whine on and on about how much she loves Georgia and how Georgia is never going to love her back to the point where I’ve genuinely had sleepless nights worrying about it, only for them to hard launch their apparent relationship by rocking up to breakfast and just holding hands like it’s completely normal!”

Keira is usually so cool and composed, even when under stress, that it’s weird to see her have an outburst like this, but she’s the only one who knows the extent of how much your feelings for Georgia not being reciprocated until now has really affected you over the last few months, and for that she deserves an explanation. 

Georgia leans closer to you and whispers, “Babe, I think we broke Keira.”

You’ll have time to process the way that Georgia’s use of the pet name babe makes your heart do an actual somersault in your chest, eager to revisit the subject later, but you probably owe Keira an explanation before she actually combusts.

“I love her,” you tell Keira and Leah. “And it turns out G loves me too, it just took her a while to figure it out. But we’re serious about giving this a go. It’s brand new, which is scary and exciting, but…” You turn to Georgia now, almost forgetting that the others are here too as you get caught in the adoration in Georgia’s eyes. “But she’s my girlfriend, my best mate, the only person I’ve ever felt like this about. So yeah, I’ve been a bit of a mess over the last few months trying to get my head around what I felt for her. But she’s worth it. You’re worth it, Georgia. And I’m lucky I get to call you mine.”

Your words come from the heart and it feels for just a second like the two of you are caught in your own little bubble of blossoming romance.

That is, until Leah bursts it by sarcastically saying, “Well thanks guys, I really didn’t want to keep my breakfast down this morning.”

It doesn’t matter if Leah ruins the moment. You’ve waited for Georgia for far too long to care. And as the news of your relationship filters through camp until the rest of the team knows, met with some surprise, some cries of “I knew it!”, and plenty of teasing, the only thing that matters is Georgia and the fact that you finally get to call yourself hers.

[fastbrother]

Detention (E, 1k words)

Harry spends his eighth year recontextualising his relationship with Draco Malfoy.

Tags: Only One Broom, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Fluff and Smut, Praise Kink, Top!Harry Potter

Author's note: Drarry one-shot I wrote for @kk1smet's birthday. Thank you for creating such wonderful art for this fandom, and for letting me use it here! K's original art post can be found here, and you can see more of her art at the bottom of this post!

* * *

They’ve been fighting since—well, since forever. But also since noon. The sky is dark now, and Harry has run out of patience. He turns on his heel, leaving Malfoy to scream into the void.

“Just where do you think you’re going?” 

“I’m going back to the castle. We’ll come back tomorrow.”

“Out of the question. I’m not spending another day—”

Harry can’t think of many things crueller than the detention McGonagall came up with for them. Another day stuck in the forest with Malfoy and he might just crack. But he’s already cracked, hasn���t he? He’s cracked about a thousand times today. 

“Suit yourself. If you can find unicorn hair in the dark, then by all means, go and find it. I’m going back.” 

And with that, Harry mounts his broom.

“Don’t you dare leave me here alone.”

“Then hop on.”

There’s a break, a little silence.  

“Fine. We’ll go back. But I’m flying.”

“Whatever,” Harry says, too tired for another fight. He dismounts, and offers the broom to Malfoy. 

The sound of crushed leaves fills the air as Malfoy comes closer, then grabs the broom in one swift motion. 

They get on.

Why did Harry think it was a good idea to only bring one broom? He’s uncomfortable, seated much too low, and has nowhere to put his hands. He hates not being in control of it, too. Malfoy flies with too much grace, a sin he didn’t know existed until that very moment. 

Time passes slowly.

Harry’s just got used to the precarious balance when a Thestral whizzes by.

“Ah,” Harry says, against his will, and wraps his hands around Malfoy’s waist. At the same time—or was it earlier?!—Malfoy’s hand lands on Harry’s calf, making Harry swallow the sorry he was about to blurt out. 

Surely, Malfoy will say sorry himself. Or remove his hand. 

He doesn’t. 

So Harry doesn’t remove his hands either. 

They land, and Malfoy’s hand lingers for a second too long.

They’re silent on the way to the castle. It’s bizarre, because the two of them are never silent. They bicker in class, when they’re forced to sit together for “the optics.” They bicker in the corridors, when they bump into each other. They bickered all day today. And now they’re silent, too silent, and the ghost of Malfoy’s touch buns a hole through Harry’s jeans.

Their footsteps echo against the stone walls. And then they stop. They’ve reached the staircase where their paths diverge. Harry has to go up the stairs, while Malfoy carries on.

They look at each other, neither of them moving. Then, at the same time, they act. Malfoy clears his throat. Harry walks towards a broom closet. 

Malfoy follows him in. It’s dark, much too dark to see, but he hears Malfoy dropping to his knees. He lets out a sound when he feels Malfoy’s hands parting his robes. The sounds intensify when Malfoy takes his cock out, and puts his mouth on it. It’s all so unexpected, so wonderfully wet and generous, Harry feels around until he touches Malfoy’s head. He’s really there. 

Fucking Draco Malfoy. Is on his knees. Sucking him off. 

Harry finishes in his mouth, and only afterwards realises he’s been panting. 

* * *

Harry corners Malfoy after Charms. Since last night, he’s had time to think. Truly, he’s had so much time to consider everything that’s ever happened between them, all the nuances of their relationship, all the ways in which they came together. And with all that knowledge safely stored in his brain, Harry locks the door.

Malfoy sinks to his knees. The light spills through the arched windows, and Harry can look into his eyes as he takes Harry in. 

“Jesus Christ,” Harry says, watching Malfoy’s lips strain against his cock. “I want to fuck you.”

Malfoy is a good little boy, because he releases his cock, stands up and bends over Flitwick’s desk. Harry lifts up his robe. 

“You’ve finally shut up,” Harry says, inserting one finger into Malfoy’s hole, pulling a moan out of him. “I love that.”

Harry doesn’t really know what he’s doing, but figures out enough. When he’s close, he pushes Malfoy back on his knees and comes all over his face.

Malfoy licks it off his lips. He’s finished in his pants.

* * *

Harry fucks Malfoy everywhere he can. He fucks him in deserted classrooms. In broom closets. The prefects’ bathroom. He fucks him so much and so often, they’ve both fallen behind on schoolwork. When they get detention for it, Harry fucks Malfoy on the forest bed. 

* * *

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Harry says, looking down at Malfoy. It’s the Christmas hols, and all of Malfoy’s roommates are away. It’s the first time they fuck in a bed.

“You’re beautiful,” Malfoy says, and drags Harry into a kiss. 

* * *

“You’re insatiable,” Draco says when Harry falls into step with him after breakfast. “We have Potions in five minutes.”

“Five minutes is plenty of time.”

Draco rolls his eyes, but lets Harry drag him into a broom closet. 

They waste most of the five minutes kissing, and then another five undressing. By the time Harry comes all over Draco’s chest, the bell ringing is a distant memory. 

“If we get detention again, I’ll kill you,” Draco says while he picks up his robes from the floor. 

“Don’t worry,” Harry says, cleaning them off both. “You go first.”

Harry waits two minutes before going into the classroom. 

“Professor, sorry I’m—”

His gaze falls on Draco, sporting a red tie and looking at Harry in horror. Just like everybody else.

Harry looks down at his own green tie. 

“—late,” he concludes, amidst rising bouts of laughter.

“Shh,” Slughorn says, trying and failing at suppressing a grin. “Ah, nothing like young love, is there? But also, detention to the two lovebirds.”

Harry shrugs at the Gryffindors’ shocked faces, then sits down next to Draco. 

“Sorry,” he whispers, a hand on Draco’s knee under the table.

“I’ll never forgive you,” Draco says solemnly. 

That night, they fuck—and sleep—in Harry’s bed.

Super adorable chibi art of them fondling each other on the broom © @kk1smet! 💖