#for real though this game has me by the throat. I played for like 14 hours yesterday

[magical-maniart]

I’ve been absolutely consumed by Spirittea since I bought it yesterday. The art style is so charming it inspired me to try out some pixel art, and I’m pretty happy with it for a first attempt✨

[reikiss]

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐋&𝐃𝐒 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒

tags : fluff!!! gn reader. est relationship. 1.2k words. a/n : ik v-day is over but i just have to post one just bcs !!! this is sooo late bcs school is a pain in the ass. reblogs are highly encouraged and very much appreciated! <3

𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑 ‧₊˚ ✩ ₊˚ ⊹ ♡ 

"Hey, did you know it's Valentine's Day today?"

"What?"

"Wait, don't tell me you don't know what that is." You teased him, not really expecting that he might not know. Yet he looks down, looking a little shy.

Wait, is this for real? He actually doesn't know??

You cleared your throat to mask your giggle. "Well, for your information, it's a special day to spend with loved ones and friends."

You leave out the part where it's focused on lovers, thinking you might sound like you're hinting something. Little did you know he actually knew what today was and found it quite cute how you brought it up.

"Ahh right." He says as if he finally remembered. He tries his best to refrain from grinning so much and showing his intentions.

"Then..." he trailed off, slowly meeting your eyes as you looked at him.

"Shall we go out later?"

The first time you saw him, you already knew that you would inevitably fall for this precious man, and when he speaks so softly and genuinely while holding such warmth and fondness in his eyes while looking at you, you can't help but get weak in the knees and fall for him all over again (as if you don't already do everyday). "S-sure. I'm looking forward to it."

He blessed your eyes with such a gorgeous smile. "Great. Where do you want to go?"

You end up dropping by the plaza where countless stalls are set up, a variety of foods and gifts being sold. You both ate snacks and took pictures, enjoying every second of the time spent together.

As it was getting late, you both decided to call it a day, but not before Xavier got back as he wanted to check out something. You were surprised that he came back with a bouquet in his hands.

"I told the old man I chatted with earlier while I was going around that I would come back and buy some flowers from him. He said I should give it to someone I consider dearest to me."

He slowly hands it to you, a warm smile on his lips. "Thank you for today, I had such a great time. I hope you enjoyed as much as I did, and I hope you'll accompany me to celebrate this day every year."

𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄 ‧₊˚ ✩ ₊˚ ⊹ ♡ 

You find yourself in front of Dr. Zayne's office after you intentionally scheduled an appointment with him on February 14. Although he might be busy, you were planning to ask him out today if ever that he was free.

You take in a deep breath. After knocking, you hear him respond with a "Come in."

After everything has been settled and finding that you're as healthy as you can be, you immediately started another conversation. "What are your plans today?"

He looks at you and his face is normal as usual, though you thought you saw a glimpse of surprise on his face for a split second. "Not much, just some paperwork left and I'm done for the day. Why'd you ask?"

Right. Of course he had things to do. "Nothing, just curious."

"What about you? Do you have plans left for today?"

"Nope. I'll just be heading home."

"If you're not in a rush to head home and call it a day, would you care to wait for a few more minutes and go out with me afterwards?"

You were taken aback by how straightforward he is that you embarassingly choke on nothing.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing, I'm fine really." You speak after putting back enough air in your lungs. "Sure, I'll be waiting here. Take your time."

He smiles at you before facing the computer and focusing while you sit there scrolling on your phone. (little did you know deep down he's happy that his plan was a success as he actually already made up his mind that he would spend today with you)

It didn't take long before he was finished. It's as if he unlocked 100% of his brain power.

You end up walking in the plaza, buying food and playing games. Of course, Zayne always lets you win whether he plans it or not. He didn't really mind losing to you. How could he when he couldn't help but stare at you that he loses focus?

It was starting to get dark while you were taking a stroll. There was a comforting silence surrounding the both of you before Zayne broke it. "Look, they're your favorite, aren't they?" He points at a stall selling flowers and the ones you love were right at the front. He buys them and hands the bouquet to you.

"What for? You didn't have to." Yet you gave a smile, appreciating the gesture.

"I wanted to buy them for you. They really do suit you. Think of it as my thanks for spending the day with me... and as an invitation celebrate again next year with me."

𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋 ‧₊˚ ✩ ₊˚ ⊹ ♡ 

You went inside Rafayel's residence, having been called by him.

"Ah! There you are, bodyguard-san." He welcomes you as soon as he sees you let yourself in.

"So, why'd you call me over in the middle of work? Good thing I don't have a mission today."

"Well, besides the fact that I just wanted to see you, I want you to accompany me to the plaza later."

Your ears perked up at his words, but you were unsure as to what was the meaning behind his invitation.

Is this it? Is he asking me out? Or did he just have some business to tend to there?

"What for? There's gonna be a pretty big crowd there later."

He cleared his throat before answering. "I'm just curious as to what's all the ruckus about since Thomas mentioned there'd be some kind of celebration today."

"Ahh it's probably because it's Valentine's Day."

"And what are we celebrating?"

"Well..." you pause, thinking of a simple way to explain. "It's a day of giving love and spending time with loved ones." but it's mostly celebrated by couples. You leave out that part, not knowing why it felt embarrassing to highlight that detail.

"I see. You humans and your celebrations, I'll never understand."

You chuckle at his dramatics, "and why is that?"

"Shouldn't every day should be a day spent with loved ones anyways? Don't you think so?" he said in a as-a-matter-of-fact way before sighing. "I would spend everyday like that, unlike some people."

You roll your eyes but smile anyways at your adorable and clingy boyfriend.

"To commemorate your traditions, why don't we just start now and spend the entire day together?"

And that's exactly what you did. You started out by hanging at his place, attempting to draw a portrait of one another. Of course he nails his art, but yours ended up more of an abstract rather than a portrait. When afternoon came, you two dropped by the plaza and tried almost all of the food.

By the end of the day, walks you home. Standing outside your apartment complex, he pulls out flowers from his coat and hands them to you.

Smiling, you take them from him. "They're lovely, thank you."

"I'm glad you like them." He shows you his killer smile. "Today is dedicated to spending time with people who're important to us, but let's try to spend everyday this way. What d'you say?"

!!! dividers from @cafekitsune and @saradika

© shizukiss — do not steal, plagiarize, translate, and/or repost my posts anywhere

[chronic-cynic]

@pessimisticgh0st you asked for anime recommendations, so I am obviously going to jump at the chance to give them to you. You’ve dug your own grave, sorry.

Madoka Magica - a 12 episode anime that fucks up your mind and makes you lose your will to live. A classic. It’s short, so it’s not much of a commitment, and it’s perhaps the best anime out there. I’d recommended this before, but I’m hoping you forgot everything I said about it so you go in blind. Brief summary: 14 year old girls gain magical powers and have to fight witches. Recommending this anime is always very fun :) There are also 3 movies, but the first two are recaps of the series, so only the third movie (Rebellion) is relevant. This series will not leave my mind. This is the lesbian show.

A Silent Voice - a movie about a former bully making amends to the deaf girl he bullied. I normally hate this trope, but it’s done so well here, god. It really makes you empathize with both of them, especially since they were really young when it happened. Depicts social anxiety in the most accurate way possible. Absolutely beautiful film (I think Tori would love this film). Trigger warning for bullying, ableism, suicide, and violence (I may have missed something, so be cautious). If you aren’t doing anything today, I swear to god, watch this movie.

Romantic Killer - the aroace show. Not a favourite, but it’s definitely good. It’s about a girl who has zero interest in dating being forced into a dating simulator game by a wizard. She does her absolute best to ignore the romance that is forced into her life, and by the end of the show, she becomes very good friends with all of her love interests (found family for the win). A lot of people misunderstand this show, saying it’s anti-aroace which is absolutely ridiculous because the whole point of the show is that you can’t reduce people to mere love interests, and that romance can’t be forced onto people. It does have a lot of romantic elements because it’s a rom-com, though, which makes me cringe a lot of the time, but it’s good anyway. It’s a very funny show with a strong-willed main character. Trigger warning for stalking and sexual abuse, both of which are very well handled in the show. On Netflix.

Neon Genesis Evangelion - it’s a goddamn ride. Another classic. The main characters are so well written that you feel like they’ll crawl out of your screen and live in the real world. And, if you relate to one, it’s like the show is grabbing you by the throat (this is definitely not me talking about Asuka, nope). Touches on every existential question imaginable. Gives you a headache. 10/10. You should probably look up trigger warnings because there are likely a lot. On Netflix as well.

That’s all I can think of for now.

Edit: I’m adding two more shows but neither are anime. I promise they are both worth it, though.

Daria - a sitcom that aired from 1997 to 2002 on MTV (my profile picture is the main character). I’ve been watching it for a bit now. Haven’t finished it yet but it’s very good so far. The main character is very similar to Tori, except she isn’t as miserable.

Pyramid Game - a Kdrama about a class that plays an oppressive game that picks on the weak. I don’t watch many Kdramas, but the plot intrigued me and now it’s an absolute favourite. There’s a canon lesbian character and an implied sapphic romance. It’s also an all-female cast which I love, and the main character is incredibly smart. Here is where you can find it (use an adblocker).

[xhopelesslyromanticx]

Kylian Mbappe sees his ex-girlfriend at Bruna Cindy’s birthday party and wants her back. Prior their break-up they had been dating since they were 14 years old but to both achieve their dreams it led them to break-up. Since then Y/N archived an amazing career as a actress and singer. She just won a Grammy as well. Kylian is so proud of her and jealous at the same time that she has all of these famous men after her. PS. I love your stories and keep going with the great work!❤️

Normal People - Kylian Mbappé x Reader

Hey, Thanks for the request. I changed it a little, hope you don't mind.

Masterlist

summary: In which Kylian and the reader both went after their dreams only to end up in the same place again.

„Did you see who’s here?“ you friend asked you as you stared into the blank black sky.

Taking a drag of your cigarette, snuggling up in your coat as you stood on the balcony in the cold crisp air.Fireworks decorating the sky from time to time as the clock got closer to midnight. New Years eve, 2021.

In a way you hadn’t imagined yourself ending your year at some random party but then again somehow you always ended up there. Paris was truly a lonely place for you. Even though you were surrounded by these crowds of people.

„Kyky you mean?“ you chuckled, looking at Cindy, who was studying you from the side. She took a sip of her champagne nodding „Yes, Mbappé.“

It was weird hearing people call him by his last name. To you he was just Kyky. You still remember the ay you came up with the nickname. How much he hated it.

„Yes I saw him.“ you smiled weakly, thinking of the guy. You had spotted him when you first walked in. He just stood there talking to a bunch of people. You didn’t wanna go up to him and bother him as he looked rather busy.

It wasn’t like the two of you had ended on bad terms. Actually you just kind of grew apart. You had known Kylian since you both were just kids. After you moved to France with your father for his work.

Attending the same school Kylian did, you got picked on horribly. They saw you as the odd rich girl from England that didn’t speak any french and just didn’t fit in. So your first two years there you had a terrible experience. That was until you were put in a class with a certain unruly boy.

Kylian, who was never seen without a football, immediately took an interest in you. It started by innocently sitting together in class and soon turned into hanging out after school, doing homework or more like pretending to do so, getting ice cream at Kylians favorite place and accompanying him to football games.

His family basically took you up as your dad was always working and you had no one else. You even spent christmas with them multiple times and their home soon became your second one.

It didn’t take long for him to develope a crush on you. Whenever he watched you sing and play the piano you could see it in his eyes. At first you didn’t act on it. Not wanting to jeopardize the friendship. But soon enough you found yourself falling head over heels for the french boy.

And then when you were just 14 years old, you went on your first ever date. Kylian and you had many firsts to come including your first real heartbreak at 19.

„I’m transferring to Paris Saint Germaine.“ he spoke int the phone as you sat in the front seat of your car. In front of you a contract of an English record label that had just offered to sign you.

„That’s…“ you whispered, trying to find the right words to say „That’s great Kyky.“

There was a moment of silence before he cleared his throat „Why does it sound like you don’t really mean that.“

You felt a tear roll down your cheek as you looked out into the dark streets of London. „No I’m happy for you Kylian. I really am….“

„But you can’t come with me… Right?“ he asked and you could tell he sounded afraid of what was about to come.

„You deserve someone who can Kylian.“ you now started crying, resting your head onto the window.

„No, don’t say that.“ Kylian chocked and you could hear him start to sob into his hand as tears slipped down onto your phone.

„But it’s the truth Kylian. We both do.“ your voice was shaky as you tried to get your sentences out „We both need to do this. We both need to live our lives and reach our goals. This is your dream Kylian. So go live it.“

And that was the way it had ended. Afterwards you hadn’t ever spoken to him again. He had texted you from time to time, congratulating you or checking in on how you were doing. So did you but about two years ago that also stopped.

Living in England and having accomplished quite a career as a musician it wasn’t like you were gonna run into him. So you lived your life, toured the world, won tons of awards including a grammy at the beginning of this year.

Relationship-wise not a lot of serious stuff had happened. Of course, you had flings here and there but nothing was ever long-lasting.

That was the price of fame. It was quite hard to find something sincere. And it wasn’t like you had a lot of friends from your past life, that was how you liked to call it. All your friends were Kylians friends and with you being the one to move away; of course they stayed in contact with him rather than you.

So you were stuck with meaningless friendships and realitionships.

Then this christmas, when you came to visit your dad and his new partner and child. There was a huge fall out between you and his girlfriend. It was something about you not being a part of the family and never showing up.

So you ended up in a hotel where Cindy was staying. You knew the model from some kind of event and the two of you ended up having dinner, where she invited you to her New Years eve bash.

She had told you it was a small gathering of her closest friends due to Covid restrictions. But to you it was still more than enough people.

„I didn’t know he’d come.“ Cindy sighed, caressing your back „He told me he wouldn’t make it. If I had known, I’d warned you…“

„It’s okay Cindy.“ you chuckled, putting out your cigarette as you stared at the beautiful view of the Eiffel tower „Him and I ended on good terms. So it’s no big deal.“

„I know, I know…“ she sighed, shaking her head „I mean Kylian always speaks so highly of you.“

„He does?“ you asked with furrowed eyebrows, looking at the model.

„Yes… He is so proud of you and everything you have accomplished.“

The music was blaring through the speakers as you stood at the buffet, staring at all the different cakes and desserts. Trying to figure out which one to pick.

„Anything with chocolate seems like a good idea if you ask me.“ a voice appeared next to you. You felt your heart jump at the familiar sound.

Looking up, straight into his eyes, you slowly put down your paper plate.

„Hey.“ you softly whispered, not really believing he was actually right in front of you.

„Hey.“ he chuckled, before wrapping his arms around you. The familiar scent hitting you as he embraced you in a hug. You wanted it to last forever as you tried to take in each moment. Overwehelmed with emotions and memories. All of them flodding back to you with every second he was holding you.

„I can’t believe you're in Paris.“ he chuckled pulling away, leaving you totally stunned as you tried to come up with an answer.

„Yeah…“

Yeah? Really Y/n? There was a moment of silence and you could tell Kylian was searching for the right words to say. You tried to so hard to open your mouth and say anything. But nothing happened, you just stood there staring at your ex boyfriend.

Kylian felt a huge wave of dissapointment wash over him. Did you not wanna see him?

He regretted even coming up to you but when he spotted you at the buffet he felt like time had stopped. You looked so stunning in your silver dress. You were all grown up and even more beautiful than he remembered. He just had to talk to you. It had been so long since he had last heard your voice.

It was then when a tall dark haired guy appeared next to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, Kylian felt like someone had stabbed a knife into his chest. He immediately recognized the guy.

„Where’s my dessert?“ Timothée chuckled and you looked up at the actor.

„Timmy.“ you stated, looking back and forth between him and Kylian „What are you doing here?“

„Ahh… Cindy’s an old friend.“ he said, awkwardly scratching his head.

Timothée and you had stared in a movie together. It had been your first ever film and let’s just say you had gotten caught in the heat of the moment. The two of you had a little thing, which sadly ended up on every tabloid cover. It wasn’t really a big deal but because he was Timothee Chalamet and you were you they made it a big old story.

Kylian cleared his throat, feeling absolutely uncomfortable as he watched you stare at the actor. He hated this. No, he absolutely despised it. He always avoided reading about you but it was hard as you were everywhere.

He of course, had heard all the rumors about you and other famous actors and singers. One time you had even been linked to a famous English footballer and god was Kylians blood boiling then.

He knew he had no right to be jealous. You both weren’t together after all. But when you break up with someone while still loving them; you never really stop.

„Ehm... this is Timothée.“ you tried to break the awkward tension as you introduced them „And Timotheé… This is Kylian.“

„Nice to meet you.“ Timothée held out his hand and Kylian hesitated for a second but then shook it „You play football right?“

„Yes…“ Kylian nodded, faking a smile „And you?“

You swallowed, feeling absoluetly humiliated. Why was he pretending to not know who Timmy was?

„I’m an actor.“ Timothée chuckled, before pointing at you „We were in a movie together.“

„Ah, okay.“ Kylian nodded, crossing his arms while he watched the actor grab some chocolate cake.

„Kyky!“ a voice then yelled and a second later a drunk blonde girl stumbled towards the buffet. She wrapped her arm aound Kylians neck in order not to fall.

It was then when Kylian tried to talk to the wasted girl when you realized something. You watched him hold her up, worriedly talking to her. As she threw herself onto him. He clearly knew her very well.

„She seems fun.“ Timmy obliviously giggled next to you, biting into his cake.

„She called him Kyky.“ you felt your eyes tear up and the actor just look at you confused. He didn’t understand it. Of course not.

„What?“ he stated with furrowed brows and a second later Cindy yelled „Five minutes till midnight. Grab your glasses.“

„I… I have…“ you stuttered, looking up at Timmy through blurry eyes „I have to go.“ With that you turned around, making your way through people as you felt your heart being shattered into a million pieces. You could hear Timmy yell after you and Cindy try to stop you on your way out but soon enough the door was closed behind you. Running down the hallway of the apartment complex, holding only your clutch in your hand, you had to get out of here.

Finally outside, feeling the cold air against your face as you tried to catch your breath. Leaning against the building, tears just slipping down your cheek non stop.

„Y/n!“ a breathless Kylian stumbled out the building, looking left and right. Then when he spotted you he immediately hurried over to you.

„Y/n!“ he ran up to you and then standing infront of you, not knowing what to do or say „Are you okay?“

You wiped your tears, looking at his face behind him the sky already being lit up with fireworks.

„No.“ you smiled, shaking your head „I’m not... My dad he hates me. I spent Christmas at a hotel this year all alone. I have no friends and no family. And I’m just… I have accomplished everything anyone could ever dream off and I’m absoluetly miserable.“

Kylian looked at you stunned. he had been under the impression that you were happy. It broke his heart seeing you like this.

„I actually understand.“ he sighed, nodding his hand „Believe me I really understand. I mean I’ve won trophy after trophy and I’m still searching for it… Happiness.“

„It’s funny.“ you chuckled, shaking your head and wiping your cheeks „Back before any of this. When we had nothing. I just had a piano and you only your football. But I think we were happy then.“

„Yes.“ Kylian nodded, before taking a deep breath. His eyes now also filling with tears „But we had to go after our dream, right? I don’t think we did that bad.“

„No…“ you chuckled, biting your lip „I think we did pretty good.“

The clock striked midnight as the city got louder than ever. Just you and Kylian were standing in what seemed like a quiet corner, watching all the fireworks appear behind the Eiffel tower.

Both not saying a word. But each of you realizing that the perception you had of each other was wrong. Yes, you both had lived these extraordinary lives and had met all these incredible famous people but both of you still just were; normal people.

And maybe one day, you could try again. To be normal together in your crazy worlds.

[kooktrash]

14 and jk pls

okay bestie, 14: sleepover and decide to play t or d BUT WITH A TWIST. I got inspo from the CUT game Truth Or Drink, but anyways. hope you like it. omg I’m scared

summary: you’ve been friends with Jungkook for months now, a severe thunderstorm and a drinking game blurs the lines between friendship and more.

warning(s): mature language, college friends, drinking, jungkook is a bit flirty, some of the questions are dirty, implied smut, friends with feeling. Plot with little porn.

truth or drink | jeon jungkook

- “The weather app sucks ass,” he huffed, staring out the window into the thunderstorm waiting for him outside. His eyes shifted down to the app, which changed from a warm night to showcasing clouds of gray and thunder on his screen.

“Severe Thunder Storm warning, if you are from any of the following districts, blah blah blah, remain sheltered from the time being until 6:45am the following day,” you read the weather alert out loud. Jungkook looked back at you, “Um what? I live clear across town, how the hell am I gonna get through that?”

It was true. Your dear friend lived far from your place, and the original plan for the two of you tonight was to study for your Psych exam and then go out for drinks with your friends. It had already been a struggle trying to get him to study, but now he was in an even worse mood because you weren’t going to be able to go out drinking. “Just sleepover crybaby,” you rolled your eyes making yourself comfortable on your couch, “Let’s drink or something.”

“Just us two?” He gnawed on his bottom lip nervously stepping away from the window and looking down at you, “Won’t it be boring?”

“Jieun’s got some drinking games here somewhere, check the media console,” you instructed him, stretching lazily as you pushed yourself up again, “I’ll go find something to drink for us. I think we still have some bottles of Soju laying around.”

“Truth or Drink, what the fuck is that?” Jungkook asked, scooting next to you on the coffee table as he held a little white box. Upon opening it he was met with four different card deck boxes, he read them carefully, “Which one should we do?”

He read the box, Last Call, eyes skimming the quick summary on the back, “Warning, do not play these questions unless it’s very late and you’ve got nothing to lose. Let’s play this one. Wait but it says three or more people.”

You poured Soju into two small glasses, “Yeah it’s to help find winners because the dealer has to choose between two answers. But let’s just play it a different way, there’s usually two questions on a card, we choose the best one, ask the other person and if they can’t answer they drink. And then we can ask the second question if we want to.”

“I need a beginner’s drink real quick,” he chugged down the liquor set in front of them, urging you to do the same, “I want to go first. I just have to pick a card from the pile and ask you?”

You nodded, setting two small piles on the table and waiting for him to decide which one he wants to ask. His eyes widened, “Oh fuck, these questions are heavy. First one and it’s already a lot. Um anyways,” he shook his head as if giving himself motivation, “Does our relationship bring out the best in you? In me? If not, why?”

You thought about it for a moment, “I think, we bring out the best in each other. You’re my best friend and you make me laugh easily and always make me feel comfortable and not a lot of people make me feel that way. I do think I am a better person because of our friendship.”

He wiped at his eye, pretending to shed a tear, “That was beautiful. Okay hurry up, ask me something.” He set the card to the side, waiting patiently for you to choose one. You laughed reading the question, “Who is in control of our relationship?”

“Fuck you, you know you are,” Jungkook huffed crossing his arms in front of him, “Everybody calls me your little puppy. I have separation anxiety it is not my fault.” The two of you chuckled, you watched him reach into the deck again, brows arching as he read, “What am I the most ignorant about?”

You debated answering. There were a few things your friend was ignorant about but you weren’t sure how to say it. In reality the two of you had barely been friends for a little over a year and though you hung out all the time you weren’t sure you were ready to have any deeper conversations. You reached for your drink, taking a drink swiftly ignoring the way his jaw dropped to the floor, “Don’t play with me, answer.”

“I can’t,” you shrugged, “I already took a drink. It’s Truth or Drink, not Truth and Drink.” He leaned forward a little, pout evident on his face, “Please. Please just answer this one. This is the only one I’ll ask you to do.”

“Fine!” You groaned throwing yourself back onto the pillow you set behind you, “I think you can be ignorant when it comes to your looks.” His brows furrowed, turning toward you, tempted to lay down as well. “I mean,” you thought for a moment, “Everyone knows you’re an attractive guy, except you. You’re always complaining about being single or lonely. And I know a ton of girls who’d kill to go on a date with you.”

“Wait,” he shook his head trying to process the information, “You think I’m attractive?” You rolled your eyes, sitting back up with a sigh, “That wasn’t part of the question. My turn.”

You sighed, reading the question out loud, “Do I often seem like I’m being fake?”

He thought for a moment, “Yes. Sometimes I feel like, you don’t really want to be friends with me, or that I annoy you and you just don’t know how to tell me to leave you alone. Or that you just keep me around because you’re bored.”

“Aw,” you frowned, “Oh my god, Kook I’m sorry I make you feel that way. I promise our friendship is 100% real and I am not being fake about it at all.” He smiled widely looking over to the other decks, picking the red one up, “Extra Dirty, let’s play it.”

“No,” you groaned as he changed the mood in the room rather quickly with his distracted mind. He ignored you reading the summary, “Sex, drugs, and rock n roll. All the questions your dark subconscious wants to ask your friends. Yeah let’s play it, the other deck was getting too emotional, can we do this one instead?”

“Fine but if it’s anything too weird I’m just drinking,” you told him. He nodded understandingly as he reached for a card, choking on his own spit for a minute before an evil smile came to his face, “What’s something you wish your ex would have done sexually, but didn’t?”

Fuck. Of course he’d be smiling at this question. Jungkook absolutely hated your ex boyfriend, Hobi. He thought he was rude and sexist and you had to agree just a little. You were friends with Hobi now but he wasn’t the best in a relationship. “Fuck,” you bit your lower lip in concentration, “I’ll tell you but this stays between you and I.”

He stuck his pinky finger out, locking it with yours as he waited eagerly for your answer. You weren’t going to pussy out of a question again so you were just going to say it. “He could never make me cum from eating me out, like never, not even with his fingers,” you hurriedly covered your face with your hands embarrassment filling you as it sat quietly on Jungkook’s end. The breakup was fairly recent so it was still a little awkward and the few hook ups you ve had since then sucked ass. “My turn,” you reached for a card taking his silence as a sign of awkwardness.

Huffing, you read carefully, “Do you find me physically attractive? What if I bat my eyelashes like this?” You did as the card said, batting your lashes at him with innocent and big eyes. He sat for a moment, “Most definitely, he said quickly grabbing another card, “You’re unbelievably attractive. Anyways.”

You could see his tongue push against his cheek, brows knitted together, “What’s your most complimented anatomical feature as described by your lovers?”

You chuckled lightly, “Realistically? Probably my chest.” You caught the way his eyes lingered down for a moment, face softening as he nodded his head. You giggled looking down at the card you just picked from the pile, “Are you loud during sex? Demonstrate with a dramatic interpretation of your signature sounds.”

“I’m drinking,” he mumbled but you shook your head laughing. “No no, you had me answer a question after I drank so I’m gonna do the same. I really want to hear what you got.” He groaned, covering his face in his hands, “Give me a minute, let me take this drink first.”

“Okay so,” he cleared his throat, “I wouldn’t say I’m loud, but I’m not quiet either. I think it also depends on what we’re doing. I’m louder when I’m getting my dick sucked, and it kinda sounds like, um,” he paused for a second. Breathing getting heavier as he began to show you, his mouth fell open, small whines leaving his lips followed by a couple grunts, “Fuck! Okay I’m done. Let me pick a damn card.”

You bursted out laughing as his ears turned a dark red. “It’s getting serious,” you giggled not noticing the way his embarrassed expression turned into a sly smirk, “Got your ass bestie, now it’s your turn. Give a passionate example of your dirty talk.”

You threw yourself back dramatically, debating on taking a drink or not. He smiled, “If you drink you’re a pussy.” “Fine hold on,” you say up scooting closer to him. Clearing your throat, you touched his shoulder lightly, bringing yourself closer to his ear too scared to say it loud so you chose to whisper instead. “You have really pretty hands Kook,” you started. He tensed underneath you for a moment, “I wouldn’t mind having them wrapped around my neck here and there.” Maybe it was the liquor already in your system but this wasn’t as embarrassing as you thought it’d be, and the goosebumps on his skin were making you want to say just a little bit more before it ended.

“And your fingers are so long and pretty,” you looked down at his tattooed hand, “I wonder how they’d feel all over me— Okay I’m done! My turn,” you grabbed a card, ignoring his silent stance. “If we were in a porn together, what category would it be under?”

He cleared his throat sitting straighter as he recollected himself, “Probably something along the lines of, ‘College Hunk Destroys Bratty Girl’ yeah that’d definitely be it.”

“You’re annoying,” you rolled your eyes as he went on for his turn, reading it loudly, “Are you a good kisser? If so, demonstrate.”

“It does not say that,” you muttered. You knew for a fact it didn’t. When Jieun got the game the two of you read every card in every deck and none of them were that suggestive. They said crazy things but nothing that involved intimate physical contact with someone else playing. “It does,” Jungkook said as matter-of-fact. “Okay then show me where it says that.”

“No.”

“Then you’re a liar,” you reached for the card but he held it away, “If you’re a bad kisser just say that Y/n.”

“I’m not!” You whined stretching forward for the card, hand pushing in his knee. He smiled at you, holding the card high as your faces were just a mere inches away from each other, “Well then demonstrate or take the L.” You sighed, hands using his legs to push yourself forward. He stared down at you, arm slowly lowering but his grip on the card was tight in case you tried snatching it out. You looked down at his parted and waiting lips, debating if you should actually go for it.

You were both a little tipsy, and you could always just blame your kiss on the alcohol. It wasn’t like you never thought about Jungkook in that way but you did your best to keep it as a simple friendship. Getting the courage, your back arched slightly as you leaned up to connect your lips with his softly. It was a soft kiss, his lips mets yours immediately going in for it. It wasn’t anything special but he was very obviously a good kisser. When you felt him dip in to further the kiss you attempted to pull away, his following lips going after you. Before you could catch your breath after your separation, his hand dropped the card, Both hands flying to your jaw and cupping your face in his hands as he pulled you in again.

You fell forward, hands gripping his shoulders to steady yourself. His large hands were soft, the pad of his thumbs caressing your cheeks as he pushed his tongue against you. You opened your mouth a little more allowing him access. Your could hear buzzing in the back, but as you tried to pull away, Jungkook only held you closer. You didn’t mind though, if you would’ve known kissing your best friend felt this good, you might’ve tried it sooner. His hands trailed down to your waist, pulling you swiftly onto his lap, as he leaned back against the legs of the couch. You pressed yourself closer deepening the kiss as your hands grinned onto his hair lightly. His hands brushed your sides and under your shirt. His cold hands on your bare stomach surprised you, the hand gripping a lock of hair pulled causing him to let out a breathy groan.

He pushed you down onto the floor, hovering above you as he wrapped your legs around his waist. His hands pushed your shirt up, kisses trailing down your jaw and neck, “If you don’t want this, tell me now because I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.”

“I want you,” you told him as he looked down at you with doe eyes. “I want you too.”

yoongi: i got locked out of my place. ur at y/n’s right? can I come over?

yoongi: hellooooo

yoongi: ANSWER YOUR PHONE

yoongi: if I catch a cold I’m suing fat

A/n OKAY LISTEN. I wanted to put smut in but I wasn’t sure if you’d be comfortable with that so I chose not to. I hope you like it, and I can always do a Drabble with smut if that’s something you want. Thank you for requesting bestie, and DONT BE SHY

[superhero--imagines]

Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here! / Part 3 Here! / Part 4 Here! / Part 5 Here! / Part 6 Here! / Part 7 Here! / Part 8 Here! / Part 9 Here! / Part 10 Here! / Part 11 Here! / Part 12 Here! / Part 13 Here! / Part 14 Here! / Part 15 Here! / Part 16 Here! / < This is Part 17!>

Donate to Move to Higher Ground HERE!

Song for this Chapter - (X)

A/N: Soooo I might not update Saturday this week because I’ve been pretty slammed at work this week. If anyone would like to Beta read the next two parts of this series (Especially if you’re BIPOC) pls DM me. The next part I’m not so concerned about, but the part after. (Also need Beta readers for my original pieces!) 

* Your legs dangle beneath you as you continuously bump your head against the tree trunk hoping the contact will knock some sense into you

* It doesn’t even hurt, barley a tickle.

* You decided that the safest, and least embarrassing, place for you right now was up a 100 foot tall tree.

* You came here for some peace and quiet, to get away from everyone and sort out your thoughts

* Not that it matters since half the coven has been up here to talk to you

* Carlisle came first, though you’re betting he pulled the “dad” card so he could go first.

* “Lovely view.”

* “Hmm” you mumble

* He lets out a deep sigh, and you hate yourself for not making this easier for him.

* “So I heard that you and Edward had a .... romantic encounter.”

* You laugh

* “A romantic encounter,” you repeat, you look at Carlisle who mirrors your smile.

* “Edward does that too” He mumbles. Carlisle doesn’t miss the way you stiffen at the mention of his name.

* A long, deep sigh escapes him

* “I just want you to know that it’s fine,” He’s sitting far away from you on the branch, partially because of your powers and partially because he understands you want space.

* “You’re two healthy vampires and I understand you have needs-“

* “Oh my god Carlisle please don’t tell me you’re giving me “the talk” right now on a tree branch” you’re mortified but you’re laughing

* “I just want you to know that however you choose to proceed, I love and support you.”

* And then Carlisle does something he hasn’t done in a decade,

* he inches closer, breaking into your personal bubble and gives you a kiss on the forehead and a pat on your shoulder

* You smile after he leaps down and runs back to the house

* He hasn’t done something like that since he found you in Volterra, newly turned and asking to die.

* Truly a compassionate man.

* Rosalie’s the next one, she actually calls your attention from the ground

* “I brought you some blood in case you’re hungry” she shouts, holding up a thermos with what you assume is blood.

* You sigh, it looks like you won’t be getting much space

* She leaves just as much space as Carlisle when she sits by you on the branch

* “Nice view up here huh?” She even cups a hand over her eyes to see further

* This family and small talk

* “Do you want to talk about it?” She finally asks after a long moment of silence.

* You shake your head

* “Not really” she nods, lacing her fingers together on her lap. There’s another long moment of silence

* “Does everyone know?” She raises an eyebrow and you clarify 

*“That Edward felt that way I mean.”

* Rosalie gives you a smirk that basically says, ‘I thought you didn’t want to talk about it’, but she doesn’t tease you any further. 

*She lets out a long sigh and looks down to her hands

* “Remember that time you came to our house for the first time to play monopoly?” 

*You nod. 

*“Most of us pieced it together back then”

* You sigh, all the way since back then?

* It’s been over a decade.

* “Mostly because we usually don’t have board game nights, and Edward asked if we could so he could have an excuse to bring you over”

* That dork. 

*You can’t help but smile.

* Of course Edward saw how lonely you were in that house and decided to find an excuse to get you five other friends.

* Another long moment of silence passes

* “Look I- I know Edward is my brother and I would be thrilled if you guys got together-“ 

*she places her hand on top of yours.

* “But I want you to know that I love you, and if you decide that’s not what you want, then that’s okay.”

* Her eyes are so kind, she gives you a gentle smile.

* “No matter what you decide, I’ll still love you, you’re still my best friend-my (sister/brother).”

* You feel your eyes sting and you nod, you give her a weak smile and she sighs wrapping you in a hug.

* “I’ll come back later with more blood” she caresses your face before jumping down, running back to the house

* As soon as she’s out of sight you feel your branch bend down

* “Great view, you see any bears yet?” Emmett asks and you sigh, swirling the cap of your thermos off

* “Care for a drink Emmett?”

* “Well don’t mind if I do”

* Out of all of them, you think you like Emmett’s interaction the best

* He doesn’t talk about Edward, just makes conversation with you like nothing is wrong, like you’re staying up this tree like a stranded cat because it’s fun

* “I heard you kissed a bunch of people at the party” you groan and put your face in your hands

* “I was drinking, I guess I drank too much, and made some questionable decision.”

* He grins and pats your shoulder

* “It’s not that big of a deal, we’ve all been there. Besides I thought it was pretty bad ass.”

* You smile, of course he would.

* Emmett doesn’t sit far away from you like the others, he sits beside you and swings his arm over your shoulder bringing you into a hug.

* “Don’t stress out about things too much up here, and when you’re ready don’t be embarrassed to come home.” He plants a kiss in your hair before swooping down

* That’s your big brother for you

* It’s not more than ten minutes until you feel the branch away again

* “Oh my god, can’t I have just a minute-“ the words die in your throat when you turn to see who’s sitting next to you.

* “Oh, hey Edward.”

* He’s sitting just as far as Carlisle and Rosalie were, if not further, he offers you a brief smile.

* A long moment of silence fills the air and you gulp

* “It’s a real nice view huh?” You say,

* oh geez now you’re the one talking about the view

* “Yeah it’s beautiful.” Edward’s not looking at the view, he’s looking at you, and the implication makes you even more flustered than you are.

* You watch Edward, he’s so happy he’s glowing. Every few seconds a smile will creep onto his face only for him to force it into a frown, only for it to twitch back into a smile again. 

* You laugh.

* “You’re doing that thing where you can’t hide how happy you are.” 

* Edward openly grins once you say that.

* “You’re happy too, I can feel it all the way from here.” He says holding a hand out.

* Ah your powers are leaking through

* Looks Rosalie and Carlisle just wanted to look serious when they were here

* “Of course I’m happy” 

* He told you he loved you, how could you not be happy?

* He basically confirmed your wildest wishes and hopes.

* This is the happiest you’ve ever been

* “I don’t understand why you’re sitting up here honestly,” he shakes his head boyish smile curling onto his face as his eyes stay focused on the horizon. “I know you feel the same way as I do”

* He’s right, you do feel the same as him.

* Maybe for just as long as he has, you’ve just been holding yourself back because you thought he would never have those feelings for you

* Because you’re not the one who’s going to make him the happiest he could possibly be

* “Look Edward, I think you could do so much-“

* “Is this about Bella?” He interrupts, a bitter laugh when you remain silent. “Why do you think I would ever love her?”

* “The way you look at her-“

* “I don’t get that either, you talked about that last night too, I’m not sure what you’re seeing but the look I give her is of minimal tolerance.”

* ...

* Wait

* What

* “Oh cut the crap Edward, I saw the way you guys looked at each other on the stairway”

* “What stairway?” 

*Is he trying to play dumb? Because honestly- you’re a little convinced with that confused puppy look he’s giving you

* “At Conner’s party, you guys were talking at the stairwell, you looked at her like she was telling you all of the universe’s secrets.”

* He looks embarrassed, a hand tangling in his hair. 

* “Um- about that-”

* You caught the criminal red handed. He might like you, but he likes her too doesn’t he. Well he’s probably entranced by that scent of hers, no doubt he’ll forget all about you-

* “We were talking about you.” 

* ....

* (Y/N). Exe is broken

*  “While you were gone, we both came to an agreement to set our differences aside for you-”

* Why would they go that far for you, it’s not like you care-

* You remember the vitamins

* Going out of your way to include her in things, 

* Driving her home even when any normal person would have just ignored the whole thing

* Oh my god, you’re Bella’s best friend

* And even worse, everyone probably thinks she’s your best friend too. 

* (Y/N). Exe is broken

* “Don’t misunderstand for a second, I still find her absolutely repulsive, and whatever haze she’s got over the school is absolutely perplexing-”

* “But what about the carnation?” you interrupt.

* She’s the only one he bought a carnation for.

* “What carnation?”

* “The carnation you bought her on Valentine’s Day!” 

* Sure one carnation isn’t anything compared to the bouquet he bought you, but it had to mean something

* “I didn’t buy anyone any carnations.” He tells you, his eyebrows threading together

* Oh f*ck

* f*ck *f*ck f*ck f*ck f*ck f*ck *f*ck f*ck f*ck f*ck f*ck *f*ck f*ck f*ck f*ck

* You bought Bella that carnation.

* You bought all of your friends carnations, light red ones for friendship

* “Were you jealous because you thought I bought her flowers and not you?” 

*A mischievous grin arch’s onto his mouth and you hide your face in your hands 

*“You were, weren’t you? That’s adorable.”

* The criminal is teasing you, only this time you can’t complain because it’s rightly deserved

* “But- then what were you talking at the lockers about?”

* Edward’s face pinches into a look of disgust.

* “She came by to rub in my face how you had given us both the same colored carnations”

* “Wait-Bella knows you felt this way about me?”

* He laughs

* “(Y/N/N), I’m pretty sure everyone knows I love you.”

* Everyone but you apparently

* Was it really all in your head?

* Edward has loved you this entire time and you just...never noticed?

* “Honestly, I love you (Y/N), but sometimes you get fixated on these ideas for no logical reason-“

* Oh there’s a logical reason alright

* “-like what possible reason could there be for me to love a human like Bella? It’s just comple-“

* “Because you’re supposed to Edward!” 

* It’s the straw that finally broke the camels back.

* You tell him everything, about everything that happened in the books.

* Him falling in love with Bella, killing James, leaving her in new moon, the werewolves, the newborn army led by Victoria, their marriage and Bella’s pregnancy

* You frame it like you had a prophetic dream the night you turned, which is probably the closest way you can explain what happened without looking insane.

* Not that Edward would mind, he would probably get the best recommendation from Carlisle for a mental health institute and happily visit you three times a week with flowers and other gifts. 

* You both sit in silence after you finish telling him everything, the only sound the gentle whistle of the wind.

* “So what?”

* He asks, shrugging his shoulders and looking at you like you just told him a tv show he doesn’t like is getting cancelled

* You scoff in disbelief

* “ So what? Edward she’s your soul mate!”

* “You’re my soul mate” he says plainly, he’s inched closer to you this entire time, and now his thigh is only a flew inches away from your own.

* You feel embarrassed at his words, how can he say that so easily? 

*You’re still not even sure soul mates exist.

* Noticing you embarrassment he places his hand on top of yours, intertwining your fingers

* The contact makes butterflies erupt in your stomach.

* “I understand that you think that story is the one I want,” he says it slowly. 

* “But there’s already so many thing that are different.”

* He’s right things have changed, you know that.

* “Besides I don’t think I’m the one Bella has a crush on” he gives you a meaningful look and your eyebrows thread together.

* Wait what’s that supposed to mean

* “This world is different than the one you saw.” He squeezes your hand, and you sigh, 

* It’s different because of you.

* He should have had all those things. If it weren’t for you he would have had all those things

* “Edward she can give you a baby, a real baby that’s yours!”

* There’s only one common thread for all the vampires you’ve seen that still hunger for their humanity

* They all want a child.

* What Edward is getting, it’s a miracle. A Hail Mary. The odds of something like this happening are one in one billion at best.

* He gets to have a baby, and the woman he loves. It’s a win-win.

* He sighs and squeezes your hand.

* “But I don’t want that.” He says it so bluntly, like it’s the simplest thing on earth. 

*Your brain stops working.

* Well that can’t be right

* “We’ve never talked about it, but I’ve never wanted children, not even when I was a boy and still human.”

* Wait Edward doesn’t want kids? 

* Your head snaps up to meet his eyes

* “I think to want to bring children into the world you have to be at peace with the world and with yourself. And I’ve never been able to have either of those things.” He shrugs, his legs swinging under him.

* “What you saw- I was probably just going along with whatever Bella wanted, but I don’t think I would genuinely want to raise a child in this world, especially not when I look like I’m seventeen for the rest of my life”

* That makes sense. 

*Edward’s always been sensitive about his age. He looks older than 17, probably because of the venom. 

*But he’s the youngest of all his siblings, you know deep down he can handle the vampirism,

* But he can’t handle being a child for all of eternity.

* “But even if I did want kids, I want an eternity with you even more.”

* He squeezes your hand and you squeeze back, gulping the burning in your throat

* Whether it’s from thirst or the overwhelming emotions you’re not sure

* “Okay.” You finally say after several long moment of silence 

* “Okay, you’ll be mine for eternity or...” 

* You slap him lightly on the chest and he barks laughing

* “Okay...we can... date.” You say it haltingly, carefully even.

* “Like humans” you add for good measure

* You expect a bit of protest from Edward, he’s been waiting for you for over a decade now, you can’t think of a man alive who would be alright with just dating.

* But Edward smiles like you just agreed to marry him. He puts a hand on your face, and caresses your cheek with his thumb.

* “Alright, we’ll date like humans do.”

* You’re still a little worried but you find yourself smiling when Edward presses his forehead against your own. 

* His lips meeting yours.

* “(Y/N) and Edward sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.” You tease when he pulls away and he laughs again

* “You’re the worst you know that?”

* “Yet you still love me,” you tease “you loooooove me, you waanaaaa spend eeeeternity with meeee.” You sing and he laughs.

* “Suddenly I’m regretting my decision to court you.” 

* You sit in silence for a second, enjoying his scent. 

* It feels safe here

* It feels like home

* “Are you ready to go inside?”

* You should, you feel a lot better now, but-

* You groan and bury your face in his shoulder.

* “It’s going to be so embarrassing, everyone’s going to know what happened and Emmett is never going to stop with the sex jokes”

* Edward just grins, he can’t believe after waiting for so long, you’re his now.

* It feels like a dream

* You’re right though, it’s is going to be super embarrassing going back home after this.

* He gets why you chose to wait it out in a tree

* “Yeah, let’s stay out here for a while longer.” He says wrapping his arms around you.

BONUS:

* Rosalie is peering out the window with gold opera glasses to her hand

* “Oh! He leaned in closer! I think he’s holding their hand”

* Alice groans beside her

* “No they’re just talking, they’re going to be doing that a lot”

* “What else do you see Alice?” Jasper asks from behind her, watching the tree you and Edward are sitting on intently

* “I’m not sure...it’s all changing really fast, in one they make up and go back to being friends,”

* Emmett groans from behind her, he can’t handle anymore yearning or weird sex talks with his brother

* “In another they push Edward of the branch and say: “oh why don’t you just go back to Bella you human lover””

* Rosalie shudders, well that’s not good

* Honestly she should have just told you Bella and Edward had come to an agreement to be civil around one another for your benefit while you were gone

* They basically bonded over how much they like you

* The carnation was probably just a sign of that truce, if it was even from him

* She’s got a feeling it was probably from you and you just forgot, but she didn’t want to embarrass you 

* Besides she figured it might be the final push you need to admit your feelings to him

* “They’re kissing! You guys they’re kissing!” Alice shrieks, and all of them turn their attention back to you

* Ah so you are

* “And so end the brooding chronicles” Jasper whispers and Rosalie hides a laugh

* “I would call them the yearning chronicles” Alice adds

* “Have you considered that maybe the reason they’re out there is because they want privacy?” Carlisle says without looking up from his open newspaper.

* The four of them shuffle awkwardly before walking away from the large window

* “You too Esme” Carlisle says

* Esme sighs, tucking her black opera glasses into her apron

* “Don’t blame me when we don’t have anything to say at the wedding when it comes time for a toast” she mumbles, walking back to the kitchen to finish her cookies

* “A wedding?”

* Queue Carlisle half sobbing half wheezing into his newspaper

* “Not one, but two kids leaving the family?”

Tags:  @moonlights27​ @thebluetint​ @the100thtwilight​ @awesomebooklover17​ @oneofthepotterheads​ @smileygirl08​ @imdoingathingmom​ @iconicgguk​ @yrawn​ @alyciaswhore​ @little-horror-show​ @wicked-watering-can​ @lazydreamers​ @ xxxmuxxx @ideas-for-you-to-adopt​​​ @poisoinedhope @maryleigh8796​​ @moose-squirrel-asstiel​​ @hotmessgoodness​ @jaimewho​ @corabmarie​ @what-am-i-doing10​ @alluring-venus​ @imdoingathingmom @anotheryooniverse​ @im-tired-not-sleepy​ @emmettcullenisahimbo​ @my-super-musical-life​ @smolvampiregirl​ @it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream​ @mihikaahujaaa​

[haikyuuuuuhypeeeee]

Chapter 7

⚠️WARNING: Mentions of previous characters' deaths, swearing, mention of unhealthy coping mechanism

• ────── ✾ ────── •

You gasp as you wake up, your eyes attempting to discern anything in the dark.

What the…

Not even two seconds ago you were playing volleyball back in the Aoba Johsai gymnasium. It was a silly two on three game, Oikawa and Mattsun vs you, Makki and -

Oh.

Oh.

Tears well up in your eyes, fast and hot. They flow down the side of your face, into your hair and the pillow. You do nothing to stop them, crushed by the sudden wave of sadness.

It was a dream. It was a freaking dream.

You’re alone in your apartment in the middle of the night. You’re a college student at Sendai Uni. You don’t play volleyball.

And Hajime is dead.

The sobs come out unconstrained, as you were too heartbroken to try to stop them. How could you, as it was the only way for you to let out the sorrow and anguish coursing through your blood right now.

C’mon Y/N, get yourself together. You will yourself to calm down, getting the sobs to subside. The tears don’t slow though, as you sit up to grab some tissues from your bedside table. You clean yourself up, sniffling and grabbing your phone.

It’s only just past 1am, and you can’t fathom the idea of falling back asleep. Not when there’s the chance of you falling back into that dream. Not when you can be fooled into thinking that you’re playing volleyball, still trying to receive Oikawa’s serves and laughing when Hajime yells at Makki to take this seriously -

Your eyes well up with fresh tears and you clutch a tissue to your mouth to muffle the cries that want to escape.

The only thing you’re sure about right now is that you don’t want to be alone. You can’t be alone, you just can’t.

You unlock your phone but staring at your screen you don’t know who you can call.

Ok, that’s not true. You have a lot of people you can call. Your parents, Oikawa, Mattsun, Makki, hell even your therapist gave you her cellphone to call if you need her. And you know that all of those people wouldn’t hesitate to listen to you and help you.

But do you want to call any of them?

This isn’t a life or death situation, and you don’t feel like you are a danger to yourself so it would be irresponsible to call your therapist. It’s the middle of the night and your parents still work so you don’t want to wake them up.

That leaves your friends, the people who honestly could still be awake and maybe even wanting to talk to someone. But Makki has Mattsun, and vice versa. Which would leave Oikawa, but honestly? He’s been more than unbearable lately, and you’ve been walking on eggshells around him, scared that anything you say will set him off.

So you’re here, laying in your bed with no one to call. And the one person that you desperately want to call is dead.

Sniffling again and wiping the fresh tears from your eyes you pull up your texts. Maybe you can send a funny meme to Makki and start a meme war - it’ll take your mind off your current predicament at least. But your eyes fall to the chat you have with Osamu, close to the top of your messages.

Huh, you didn’t really think of him.

Not that you wouldn’t want to talk to Osamu. He’s actually very funny, with his dry humor and easy banter. Your friendship, despite its more than unusual beginning, has blossomed into something you’ve come to cherish.

But you can’t bother him with this, no no. You guys can, and have, confide in each other about your struggles and your complicated feelings and emotions. But it’s mainly been small bits and pieces shared over coffee.

But it couldn’t hurt to text him, no?

You wouldn’t say anything about your dream. Maybe you can find a funny meme to send him, or ask a question about lunch tomorrow.

You methodically type out your message, finding a meme to almost perfectly capture your mood (but not too accurately.)

You send the text before talking yourself out of it. It wouldn’t surprise you if Osamu didn’t text you back - it’s late (or early, depending on your opinion) and he should be sleeping.

You sigh deeply, finding yourself back in square one. Square one plus a stuffy nose, aching head and absolutely broken heart. You close out of the messaging app and decide to find some show to binge while you wait for the sun to rise.

Your phone begins vibrating and you’re surprised to see what comes across your screen.

Osamu doesn’t text you back. He calls you.

You pick up the phone. “Hello?”

“I hope that photo isn’t a subtle request to have me come over and cook for ya.” The soft, calm voice coming through the phone makes your chest tighten. It brings a wave of relief because you’re not alone but drowns you in guilt at inconveniencing your friend.

You clear your throat and sniffle. “No, sorry.” Your voice cracks and you wince at how obvious it is that you were just crying.

Osamu picks up on your current state. “Hey, are ya alright?”

He sounds so concerned, the teasing lilt in his voice instantly dropped. Your eyes start to water again and you can’t stop the sob that escapes your lips in time.

“Hey, Y/N are ya okay? Where are you, what’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry,” you croak out. Your voice sounds horrible, extremely hoarse and tight as you try not to let more sobs spill out. Gritting your teeth helps keep them at bay but it does nothing to stop the flow of tears. You sniffle, loud.

“Where are you? Are you in danger?”

“No, no. I’m at my apartment. I’m okay.” You take in a shaky breath, sniffling again and clearing your throat. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“It’s okay,” Osamu replies. He doesn’t sound as frantic as he did before but you can detect the worry in his voice. “I was still up so it’s no bother. I don’t even know why I called honestly. I think I just wanted to see what ya were doin’ up.”

“It’s fine, you can call me whenever,” you reply earnestly. “I….just had a dream.”

A split second of hesitation is all you’re allowed to mentally scream at yourself for breaking the one condition you set when you decided to text Osamu. “A dream?”

You nod, even though he can’t see you. “Yeah, and I’m sorry for bugging you because it’s not fair to you but I just have to tell someone or else I feel like I’m going to fucking suffocate. I know I should just call my friends but they don’t want to hear me go on and on and -”

“Hey, hey Y/N. Calm down and take a breath.” You listen to Osamu, taking a pause to breathe. Your head is now throbbing painfully and your throat feels wretched. “What was yer dream about?”

“I was playing volleyball with my friends and...Hajime.” You are silently screaming at yourself. You were not going to do this to Osamu, you were not going to burden your friend, who is already facing struggles of his own, with your problems.

But...he did ask what your dream was about.

“We were playing volleyball together,” you go on. “And it felt so real, like one minute I was in the middle of a play and the next I was waking up in my bed, searching for the ball. It took me a few seconds to realize that it was all a dream, and, and,” your breath hitches again and you feel more sobs bubbling out. Again you feel the grief take control of your body and you start crying.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay Y/N.” Osamu is trying to soothe you but it’s not doing much to calm you down. If anything the added reassurance was making you cry harder “It’s okay.”

It’s not okay. It’s so far from okay that you can’t even imagine how you would get to okay.

“I’m sorry,” you sob. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Ya don’t hafta apologize,” Osamu replies. “Just let it out, Y/N.”

Oh boy, do you let it out. You cry and cry, curled up in a ball in your bed, lamenting the loss of your best friend and trying not to drown even more in your sorrow.

But you’re not alone, really. There’s not another person in the apartment with you, but you have Osamu on the phone right now. He’s reaching out to you, reaching through the dark and trying to get to you.

You’re not alone.

You feel the sobs subsiding as your breathing returns to normal. Your entire head is throbbing, you have no chance of breathing out of your nose and your eyes are painfully dry.

“Are ya alright?”

“Yeah,” you rasp out. “I’m sorry again, for that.”

“Ya don’t ever have to apologize to me,” Osamu says immediately. His insistence brings a small smile to your face. “If ya ever need to talk about yer dreams or anything, that’s what I’m here for.”

“Thank you,” you reply. Your voice is nasally but you try to get as much sincerity in it as possible.

“Of course, and ya can call whenever. I don’t sleep so there’s a good chance ya’ll catch me anytime.”

You pause in wiping your face with your tissues as you take in what Osamu is telling you. “You don’t…sleep?”

“Nah.” Osamu's nonchalant answer makes your cock your head in confusion. “I don’t think I can remember the last time I actually slept through an entire night.”

“So,” you pause, still not comprehending. “What do you…do?”

“I do my homework, I’ve got a job at the convenience store and I usually work the night shift. Sometimes I read or binge watch a new show.” He laughs. “Usually every three or four days I just pass out for 14 hours or so, and then repeat.”

“Osamu,” you chastise. “That’s not healthy.”

He laughs again but it’s not the light chuckle from before - it’s a hollow laugh with a hard edge. “Yeah, well it stops me from havin’ the kind of dreams yer havin’. The kind where I forget that my brother is dead.”

You’re taken aback from the harshness in Osamu’s voice. It’s the first time you’ve ever heard him sound like that. It could be considered in the same category as his usual tone - dry, sarcastic and nearly apathetic. But his regular tone is part of his sense of humor and how you two converse. You’ve never felt unease from those conversations, but now you do.

“And ya know what's worse than those little dreams?” Osamu doesn’t wait for input. “The worst is when I’m not even asleep and my stupid brain will give me random reminders from when my brother was alive. Like ‘don’t forget to wake up early and shower before Atsumu uses all the hot water!’ Or,” Osamu takes in a harsh breath, the noise making your phone speaker crackle. “Or the reminder to grab another sports drink at the store for Atsumu because he’s a scrub but he’s my brother and I love him. Or to save the mushrooms from my dinner even though they’re gross but Atsumu will trade his broccoli for them.”

Osamu blasts on, speaking fervently. Someone listening in would think he’s mad at you, but you know his frustration isn’t directed at you.

“But then I remember that I live alone, and I don’t need two bottles of sports drink and my plate is full of fucking mushrooms for no god damn reason.”

“And then, after feeling like the world’s biggest idiot for forgetting that my own twin brother is dead, I remember how alone I am.” He lets out another laugh, but it’s not light nor is it bitter. It’s worse, full of self-deprecation and pain.

You wait with bated breath, waiting for any sign on life through the phone. But when Osamu speaks, a small, broken voice comes through the line and nearly breaks your heart.

“It’s like - finding a life raft in the middle of the ocean but when you get to it it’s just a bundle of seaweed - it gets me every time.”

You inhale quietly. You want to reassure him but you can’t find the right words to say.

You can’t, because you know exactly how it feels.

The cold hard truth is that Iwaizumi Hajime is dead. There is nothing in the world that can bring him back, and there is nothing you can do to change that fact. Some days you can accept this fact easier than others.

On the easy days you feel most like yourself carrying a small rock. The weight of Hajime’s death will be something you will always carry with you. But on those easy days you can slip the rock in your pocket or hold it in your hand and carry on through life.

On the hard days it takes way more effort to lug the boulder around. You don’t know if you should drag it, heft it over your shoulder, tie a rope around it and yank hard. Sometimes you’re left to your own devices, sometimes your therapist or your parents can tell you the best way to carry it. Even your friends have stepped in to help you carry it, despite their own rocks to hold.

But the absolute worst days are the ones where you lose the rock, but you haven’t realized it. Where are you going to find it? In your pocket? Your bag? Will you trip over it?

Or will it come crashing down on you like an asteroid hellbent on wiping you out?

And it’s not even the impact that’s the worst part! Sure, this asteroid comes down on you with enough force to kill you, but the shockwave is what really destroys you.

When you have those moments when you forget that your Hajime is dead, the realization of his nonexistence is the asteroid’s impact on you. The cruel realization that his nonexistence is permanent for the remainder of your life is the shockwave.

This cruel one-two punch is devastating. It knocks you down and out, merciless in it’s destruction.

For what it’s worth, Osamu’s solution to dodging that one-two punch is not terrible, although it will have major consequences for his body and mind that he will have to face someday. But you can’t blame him for doing something to avoid the heavy blow.

It does destroy. It does make you feel like you’re drowning. It does nearly kill you.

“Ah, I think she fell asleep.” You’ve been quiet for so long that Osamu thinks you’ve fallen asleep on the phone.

“No, I'm here.” You murmur. “Sorry, I was just thinking.”

“Ah, a dangerous pastime.” Osamu jokes, but it doesn’t quite land. Could be from his full disclosure or from the strained laugh he gives at the end of the sentence.

“It is,” you agree. “But I was thinking about what you said.” He doesn’t respond, letting you continue. “And I just wanted to say...I get it.”

There’s silence on the other end. It’s so quiet that you fear for a second that Osamu has hung up the phone in anger, or maybe he’s drifted off to sleep. But then you hear another breathy exhale, a laugh from a person who is the furthest from laughing.

“Ya know Y/N? I think you’re the only person who does.”

You exhale and close your eyes. You find it hard to open them back up, pure exhaustion taking over your body.

“We’re still on for lunch tomorrow, right?”

“Of course,” Osamu answers. “But ya gotta rest now if ya wanna wake up in time for it.”

A small smile crosses your face. “Sure. Promise me you’ll try to get some sleep too?”

A noncommittal hum is the answer you receive, not ideal but you don’t push him. You feel brittle and fragile, and you’re sure he’s the same.

“Osamu, thank you.” You want to convey how thankful you are, not only that he called you tonight but for coming into your life at a time where you needed a friendly face. You know your gratitude doesn’t come close to covering the vast expanse of your gratefulness but you hope you’ll have time to show him.

“No worries, get some sleep. I’ll see ya tomorrow. Good night Y/N.”

“Good night Osamu.” Your eyes slip close, and you let yourself fall into a dreamless sleep.

• ────── ✾ ────── •

A/N: 😔😔 y’all this story is making me Big Sad and I wrote it. 🥲 Thank you so much for reading!!! I should probably mention that the time stamps in the chat and on the tweets and such are accurate - the story is moving right along!

Taglist Open! Please send an Ask with the request to be added to It’s [Not] Okay Fic & SMAU: @psycho-nightrose @camcam1617 @kamalymaly @toobsessedsstuff @shookykookie30 @roro-707 @qualitygiantshoepsychic @cerealfrdinner797 @ara-mitsue @gray-444 @tanakasimpcorner @rintarovibes @jellien @everytimeswift @bongofrito

[keravnous]

- agent 14/agent steven haines; my drug is my baby (nsft, smut)

It's hot out and Steve's wide awake. His bedroom windows are opened and there's a soft breeze rolling in, toying with the curtains and leaving a soft trace on his warm skin. He sighs and rolls on his stomach, blindly reaching out with one hand, until he touches his phone. His hand clutches around it and pulls. The display blinds him for a split second and he curses under his breath. No new messages.

He's not really surprised. The only person messaging him these days is 14 but they aren't really talking right now, with both of them still being so goddamn angry, so that's that.

He mindlessly checks his social, a former frat getting married, another couple buying another dog and someone's new car. He doesn't care, he can't even bring himself to act, to convince at least himself, that he does. He's missing something. Someone.

His thumb hovers over the display.

No. Yes. No.

He can hear the city breathe. Cars honking, the tram and a slight wind rustling the few leaves this grey concrete hell hole still has to offer. He misses the sound Warren makes, when he's asleep, how soft his breath is.

Steve shakes his head, as if that would have him get rid of the thought more easily. He misses his warmth, how he sometimes hooks one leg around his, arms stretched out. When he's asleep they don't fight.

Steve knows that he can't blame it on 14, they both are to blame, they both are equally responsible. If one of their superiors ever were to find out what they had been doing these past months they'd both vanish from this earth, erradicated like they'd never exist, justified by their act of treason.

And yet there they are: fighting. Rather with their fists and teeth, than with words. His colleagues start to notice the bruises (and even though they don't say a word he is still paranoid about it). Not all of them are born out of aggression, most are a result of the lust that captures their fucked up minds once the violence starts to blossom between them. It turns them on, it turns Steve on, when Warren's hands connect with him in the worst ways possible. It makes his blood sing and his dick hard and he just wants. Wants to press the other man down and take take take until the taking becomes an act of giving, which always errupts the most beautiful sounds from Warren.

He hates himself for the thought, but everything could be just perfect, they could be perfect, like handmade pieces carved to only fit each other. But it's not like that, it's way more hurtful. Their opinions on work, on the government and secret agencies drift apart like Pangaea. It's hell really, one of them starts screaming at one point and then there's no going back. They are both too ambitious, willing to sacrifice everything for their jobs and sometimes Steve wonders not if there will be, but how huge of a blood bath they will go down in. The thought scares him and he knows it scares Warren too, but they don't talk about it, keep their fears far away from each other, locked behind thick vault doors.

They often try their hardest not to talk about work. But eventually, like most people who only really live for their jobs, they drift back to it. It's Steve, who hates that Warren himself is somewhat a criminal and it's Warren who hates, that Steve won't admit that he isn't far form it himself.

They blame and attack each other for failures or provocations of their respective employers and it either ends in slammed doors or sweaty bodies sticking together.

Steve misses it, the adrenaline that shoots through his veins in these moments, the way Warren's body responds to his, how the other feels under his fingers. He misses misses misses and it keeps him awake.

He thinks about the last time he's seen Warren, squirming beneath him, throwing his head back, arching into his touch while throwing slurs his way. Steve thinks about him, about his touch. It's torture and he rolls back onto his stomach, while his mind conjures up a truly beautiful, delicious image.

Steve's sitting down, legs spread wide, back straightend but relaxed nonetheless. Warren kneels in front of him, cheeks slightly reddend, his hands carefully resting on Steve's firm thighs. His eyes are trained on Steve's hard dick, obscenely standing against his abdomen. Warren's bleeding. His nose looks broken and blood slowly tickles over his plump lips, down his chin. His tongue darts out, licks it away, cleans his lips.

Steve groans quietly and rocks his hips into the mattress once, twice, his hands gripping into the sheets as he rocks against the surface, growing hotter and harder.

He had betrayed him, sold his secrets, endangered Steve's life and thus, he has to show him his place again. Warren's eyes are trained on his cock and Steve hums, gently places his hand on the back of 14's head, runs it down to his neck, around to the front and presses down. The noise that erupts from Warren's throat makes the hairs on Steve's body stand up, as he slowly tilts his head back, giving Steve better access to his throat. Blood runs down the delicate, pale skin, pools between Steve's fingers. He runs his hand up again, brushes across Warren's lower lip with his thumb, then forces three fingers in. He gags, his eyelids flutter, before he starts sucking.

Steve moans. The sound is deep in his throat and his boxers are groing tight fast. He impatiently pulls the front down and himself out, raises his hip and closes his hand around his dick.

"You want the real thing, don't you, pretty boy?" Warren's bloody chin now dripples with saliva and he nods, hums around Steve's fingers. He pulls them out and looks at Warren, hits him another time across the face for good measure.

"Come on then, right your wrongs", Steve leans back and Warren lashes forward, tongue darting out and licking a wet stripe from the base to the top.

Steve tucks at himself and moans. It doesn't replace Warren, his scent, his touch, how he feels around and underneath him, his voice but it'll do, if he keeps himself focussed enough. He hates him so much, it makes his stomach twist, he hates his arrogant smile, the edge to his voice when he feels superior and his strut, how he tilts his shoulders back. Steve wants to take one of his cigarettes and burn his delicate skin right there between his shoulder blades, so he won't act all high and mighty anymore. Steve also wants so put his hands on his skin, his body and worship it, every little mole, kiss it until the world ends, burning and crumbling by the wars they wage.

He spits into his hand, rubbing his own saliva around his dick.

Warren leans in, all wet lips, blood and saliva and throaty groans and closes his lips around the tip of Steve's cock. His tongue swirls around it in the warmth in his mouth, hot liquid dripping down the hard shaft.

Steve rolls around, thrusting into his fist, his head buried deep in his cushion, moaning from the back of his throat. His body feels lonely, oddly cold, even though it's warm out and in his bedroom as well, and he raises his free hand, runs it across his flushed chest in a manner Warren would. It makes his heart flutter and his dick twitch.

"You like that, huh?" Warren lets his dick go with an obscene sound and hums deep in his throat.

"Yeah, fuck, I do."

It's what sends Steve to do an insanely stupid thing. He reaches out and grabs his phone, unlocks it while cupping his balls with one hand, squeezing and tugging, while scrolling through his contacts.

The voice on the other end sounds tired, not angry at all. Steve would like to be it the other way around, he wants to be yelled at, hit and torn.

"Why the fuck are you calling, it's literally three in the morning", there's a little yawn and Steve wishes he'd be here, "You better be bleeding out somewhere to bother me now, Haines."

He wants to hit him back with something witty, smart, rude but there's nothing more leaving his mouth but a moan, as his hand wanders up his dick again. There's silence on the other end. It makes his blood race, boil.

"Haines?"

"Yeah fuck, who do you think it is?", his voice is deep and buried in his throat. He groans.

There's a low chuckle on the other end. He wishes he could see that smile, he wishes he could tear it off of Warrens face.

"You ain't really getting yourself off right now, are you?", and when there's no answer just a deep and low sigh, 14 tsks, "That's actually pathetic, Haines."

He sounds wide awake now. Good.

"Tell me", there's shuffling on the other end, "Tell me what you're doing, you moron."

Steve smiles and tugs at his dick, with Warren purring deep into his ear. "Fuck, I'm", he sighs, feels the tension running deep through his stomach, "Touching myself."

"And you're thinking of me? How cute. Ain't you ashamed of yourself, Haines?"

Usually it's Steve who has the upper hand in the little dangerous game they're playing, it comes naturally with him being the higher ranking one, but he will make an exception tonight. Warren's tone is spurring him on, how he talks down on him. He would love for Warren to be here, for Warren to look and talk down on him, to spit in his face and sneer at him.

The words leave his mouth quicker than he can act against them.

"Wish you were here, fuck, touching me."

_

The next morning Steve's late to work. He doesn't even remember the last time he hasn't been on time. Must've been years ago. His chest burns as his shirt rubs over the sore skin. Warren had told him to run his hands over his chest harder harder harder until his nails had scraped the skin. The stinging sensation feels good, it's a nice reminder of last night.

As he rushes towards the FIB building across the empty plaza, he sees a figure leaning against one of the chairs.

"Late, Haines?", it's Warren. He's smoking a cigarette.

Steve raises his hand and shows him his finger.

He knows he's fucked, they both are.

_

It's Wednesday when he gets the mail and Friday when he enters the meeting room. His boss is there and so is Mrs. Rackham, he's seen her once or twice, but this time she's not alone. There are other agents with her and, of course because his life's just gotta be like that, 14 is there too.

His gaze drops to Steve's take-away cup and his lips curl into a smug grin. "If I knew we were having a potluck, I would've brought something as well", his voice is deep and calm, collected, like velvet and Steve'-s pulse sings with it.

"14", Mrs. Rackham's voice cuts through the air, admonishing, like a mother scolding her child.

Now it's Steve's time to grin and he drops his free hand to his belt, hooks one thumb underneath it and cocks his hips forward, looks at Warren. It's the same look he shoots him when Warren sinks to his knees to obediently suck his dick and he eyes him up and down. 14 blushes, his gaze drops.

Steve bathes in his display of power, the feeling that erupts from it takes him flying high. To them, it looks like 14 is listening to his superior but only the two of them know that he isn't. Only the two of them know that he's bowing to Steve's will. They had a change in their power dynamic last night and Steve is not willing to accept that, maybe he's even afraid to do so.

As they take their seats they look at each other once more and Steve feels his stomach flutter.

_

They were at each others throats the second they found themselves to be alone on the floor. Now, only a few minutes later, Steve has Warren bend over the sink of the bathroom. The door is locked but the idea of them being caught, someone seeing how he toys with one of the leading IAA Field Agents, still excites him. He has one hand around Warrens throat, his thumb pressing his chin upward, their eyes meeting in the mirror.

14 is crying. Small, thick tears run down his cheeks, silent evidence of his denied orgasm. He's very pretty that way, Steve thinks, when his cheeks redden and his eyes turn dark, like the stormy sea and his hair's in a mess. He loves it when Warren cries, the sounds he makes and-

"Please."

Steve stops his slow and deep thrusts and blinks dumbfounded. One, two, three seconds pass until he moves again. Laughter spills out of his mouth, deep and satsified.

"What a pretty sound for a pretty boy, huh?", his hand strokes over Warren's ass cheek, gently kneading the flesh below the palm. It's soft and warm and it grounds him.

His voice drops in both, octave and volume, as he leans forward, shoving himself even deeper into 14, lips against his ear. "Say that again", he whispers, tongue darting out and toying with his earlobe.

"Please, Steve. For fucks sake, please fuck me", Warren moans and throws his head back, pressing his throat into Steve's palm more firmly. He presses down and Warren yelps, squirms and their gazes meet in the mirror once more.

Warren holds his own mouth shut with one hand, drowning his moans and screams, as Steve ruts into him like an animal gone wild, fucking them both senseless.

_

Steve's phone rings and he picks up, opening another bottle of wine.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"So, you're still alive then?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I am." Why wouldn't I be?

"Good. Just wanted to check."

"Warren?"

"Yeah?"

"Should I be worried?"

"No", and he trust him, because the word carries all the fear, all the thoughts that Steve grew so painfully familiar with.

_

The next time they see each other is a rather spontaneous thing. Well, at least Steve hasn't invited Warren over but there he is, standing in his doorway, hair a mess, his leather jacket on. He eyes Steve up and down, his gaze stops at the obvious bandage around his upper arm. Warren slowly raises his hand and gently touches it. Steve doesn't flinch.

"I saw the news", Warren says, his voice low and nearly inaudible.

"I'm fine."

"You got shot", he looks seriously upset now.

"I'm still alive, ain't I?"

And then he's on him, arms around his neck, lips pressed onto his own, hungrily devouring him. Steve feels Warren's warmth radiating against him and he slips his hands under his jacket, pulls his firm, muscular frame closer, flush against him. "I-, I was-", he doesn't have to say it, Steve knows anyway. Afraid, Worried, Scared, Frightened.

"I'm still here, pretty boy", he runs his good hand through Warren's dark hair and they look at each other and Steve knows, it hits him like a train, that they are both gone. Warren's gaze is soft and it's so beautiful, but somehow Steve wishes he'd yell at him again, lash out and throw hands at him. That was easier to handle than whatever they just turned into.

They are gentle with each other, for the first time. It's all slow kisses, soft touches and intertwined bodies, heat and whispered words. Steve holds Warren by his hips as he grinds down on his dick and gently brushes over his abdomen, his hip bones and chest with his hands, wants to feel and discover every inch of his body. Warren leans down and kisses him, soft and warm, plush lips that gently move against his own, a tongue darting out, making its way into his mouth. It makes his stomach flutter and fingertips tingle, so he hooks his good arm around his waist and helps 14 to rock onto him, the other hand gently resting on his leg.

They cum with their foreheads pressed together firmly, so close together that their eyelashes are nearly touching, gazes locked on each other. Steve pulls Warren close after that, hooks his good arm around him and it doesn't take long until they are at each other again, kissing gently, hands wandering, tongues touching.

_

Steve wakes up in the early hours of the next morning, Warren's back pressed against him. His breath is easy, he seems to be sleeping still. Steve buries his nose in his neck and breathes in. Out. In. Out. In - until he falls asleep again.

_

Ignoring each other at work and during the breaks becomes increasingly harder. Steve is getting itchy with the stress it puts onto him.

_

"The fuck did you do?", Warren slams his glas down. It doesn't break but Steve hears it shatter anyways. Of course they'd fight once again, once more. Maybe they never really stopped, maybe they were just on a break, an armistice.

He's talking about Michael and his associates kidnapping Mr. K.

"This is business, Warren. This has nothing to do with you."

"Are you completely nuts, Haines? She'll have your head for this, Daniels will kill you."

Steve looks at him and his gaze quickly turns into a stare. This is not about him, it never has been and it now dawns on him. He's not even yelling, his voice is firm and nearly a whisper.

"Me? Don't you dare act like you care about me when it comes to this. You're afraid what this will mean for you, aren't you? If they ever unveil that you fuck me, the one responsible for subject K gone missing? What will they think of you then, huh?"

Warren blinks. Once, twice. "Are you fucking deluded, Haines?"

Steve has missed how Warren beats and tears at his clothes and hurts so so so good. He relishes in the pain that 14 is exposing him to, until he can't hold back the gnarling animal in his chest anymore and lashes out as well, hits back and hits hits hits until they are covered in blood.

_

It hurts so good, his cuts and bruises hurt so good. Steve had missed this, missed the pain so much. Warren lies next to him, chest heaving, blood on his hands and his face, it's in his hair and on his legs as well. Steve wants to fuck him raw, until he screams and cries.

Steve wants to make Warren his, and only his. And he's ready to give himself up for it, too.

[diavolosthots]

DARK DECEPTION CHAPTER 15

READ CHAPTER 14 HERE

Warnings: choking, threats

Pairing(s): no pairs, Diavolo, Barbatos, Beelzebub, Lucifer

“Where is she?!” To say he was angry is an understatement. Two hours. He was gone for two hours and you were left in Barbatos’ care with all the doors locked. He didn’t think you’d be stupid enough to jump off the balcony, either, but apparently he was wrong, considering the doors to the balcony were open and you were gone. You couldn’t have done it alone, though, but Barbatos swore that, although Beelzebub was there, he was with him the whole time. Hell, even if Beelzebub wasn’t, he doesn’t know his way around the castle like that. It just doesn’t make sense to him. You shouldn’t have survived the fall but there was no blood anywhere so someone must have taken you. Maybe one of the guards betrayed him? Possible. Right now, Diavolo is just seething with anger though and every time he thinks someone might know something, he’s met with empty answers and another dead body lying in front of him. If Michael hadn’t distracted him… “Angels?” No… no he would sense if an angel was in the Devildom. They stand out and Michael was the only one with him. 

“Damnit!” “You know, anger won’t help you think.” Beel. God, he’s such a buffoon, still eating his crab cakes as if his Queen didn’t just get kidnapped. “No offense, but you’re not helping my case, Beelzebub. Tell me again what you were doing here.” This is probably the sixteenth time Beel had to tell his story, forced to follow Barbatos and Diavolo around the Devildom in search for you, but at least he had his crab cakes. “I told you. I couldn’t stop thinking about those crab cakes from the wedding… I took all of them home the day of the wedding but I ate them all and Lucifer told me not to bother you for more.” Honestly, none of that is actually a lie. Those crab cakes were heavenly and he did inhale pretty much all of them in a matter of seconds. “I just figured since it’s been a while since then, Barbatos may have time.” And he did. Barbatos had way too much time but that was on Diavolo. He knows he can’t blame the Butler. All he told him was to keep anyone away from you and to bring food at the required meal times. That’s it. Diavolo didn’t like Barbatos to be with you for too long because although the demon never betrayed him, he just doesn’t want you to smell like anyone other than him. 

A deep growl escaped Diavolo, his wings twitching behind him. It was a natural instinct to switch into his demon form the minute he was notified of your disappearance and sadly, a lot of people had to suffer because of it. “Can I go home now?” “No!” Why was he taking Beel along again? The guy was of no use. He seemed innocent and he was with Barbatos the whole time, too, “unless…. Tell me where your brothers were, Beel.” Beel stiffened slightly but kept a poker face; no way was he going to rat them out. “Probably at the house? Asmo might have gone to the spa.” Seems believable, right? “Are you sure?” Beel nodded. Of course he knew better, but not even he knew where Lucifer took you. The guy didn’t say anything, but if he had to guess, maybe back to earth? “I doubt Belphie ever left his room and you know that just as well as I do.” Diavolo knew, yes. If Belphegor ever willingly moved, everyone needed to find shelter because something is wrong. “Okay. So you were with my servant, Asmo may have been at the spa, and Belphegor was sleeping. What about the other four?” 

“I’m assuming Levi was in his room, he’s just like Belphie after all.” Makes sense. Diavolo nodded, crossing his arms and motioning toward Beel to go on. “Mammon…. I don’t know. I haven’t seen him since yesterday, if I’m being honest.” So Mammon is a suspect. The thought of that demon gambling you off or something may seem ridiculous but it makes Diavolo angry and he’s digging his fingers into his skin, “next. Satan?” Beelzebub shrugged. Has he ever really known anything about Satan? “We don’t hang out a lot…. But he does make some mean ice coffee! He always puts extra whipped cream on mine and sometimes he drizzles me a heart with some choco---” “Beelzebub.” embarrassment rushed through the glutton when Barbatos called him out on his rambling and Diavolo was glaring daggers at him, putting Satan on the suspect list too. “And Lucifer.” Beel looked up, right at Diavolo, although his face was just as stern as the King’s. “I’m guessing he was in his office.” “guessing?” Beel nods, starting to glare because if it wasn’t for Diavolo, none of this would be happening in the first place, “I don’t know if you noticed but you took something from him.” 

A laugh escaped the Demon Lord, but it wasn’t a laugh felt in the heart, no. It was just… insensitive. Emotionless. It was merely a sound. “He got over it.” Beel narrowed his eyes because he knew better than that, “He has been holed up, drowning himself in paperwork more than usual.” Because of you, is what Beel meant to add. Lucifer meant a lot to the guy. Lucifer helped Beel a lot and he always believed in him; he always found a way to cheer for Beel. The least Beelzebub can do is acknowledge his brother’s feelings. “He literally never leaves his office anymore, and if he does, it’s to eat a few crumbs of food. I have to finish his plate for him.” “I’m sure that’s not a real issue to you, Beelzebub.” Never. Never has Beel wanted to commit violence like he does right now. Diavolo calls Lucifer his best friend and yet he backstabbed him. He lied to him. And now he’s making fun of the guy. What a great friend he is. 

But Beel knew better than to talk back. He won’t say anymore in fear of spilling something. “So Mammon and Satan are suspects, Barbatos. Remember that.” What? Beel’s eyes grew wide momentarily and he stepped up, almost getting in Diavolo’s face until Barbatos stopped him, “what? You don’t think they’d have anything to do with this?!” Diavolo looked at him, almost unimpressed, and brushed Barbatos’ hand away from between them, stepping up too until he almost bumped his horns against Beel’s head, “no one is not a suspect, Beelzebub. But I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt and admit that Satan was more likely it than Mammon. The latter doesn’t really have the brains to plan this out, has he?” A growl escaped Beel. Although Mammon could be stupid, and all of his brothers knew that, Beel didn’t like that Diavolo talked to him like that. His fists clenched, as did his teeth, but he’s trying to hold back. “Mammon might not be as smart as Satan, but he isn’t completely dumb, either.” “So you think he could have done it? Interesting. Didn’t think you’d rat your own brother.” What? Beel blinked in confusion, leaning back a bit. “Maybe they worked together….” Diavolo went on and that’s when Beel started to realize that the guy is stalling; he’s playing a game. 

“It’s not just a coincidence that you were there during that time, Beelzebub, is it?” More confusion rushed through him and he gave Diavolo exactly that face. “What do you mean?” “Fine. I’ll play your game. You were a distraction, weren’t you?” A cold shiver ran down his spine but he kept his face of confusion as best as he could. How could Diavolo possibly know? No. He couldn’t. “You see, I thought it was odd that Michael wanted to talk to me. Granted, I needed to talk to the guy anyway and I rather not have the celestial realm on my back all the time about keeping a human. It was a conversation long overdue and desperately needed. It seemed normal enough, although I deemed his timing off. But then…. Then I come home and find my wife gone, which I’m sure you know is not just treason against myself, but also kidnapping and potential murder of the Queen, depending on what happened, and maybe an heir.” Heir? No. No way you’re pregnant. Just the thought is disgusting to him and he hopes it’s not true. “It’s too soon to tell, so maybe that charge will be off the criminal’s back.” Thank father; Beel let out a sigh of relief. Maybe stress caused you to never fall pregnant, let's hope. 

“Then, you happen to be oh so conveniently there at a time that I’m not, and you’re thinking that I believe this is all a coincidence? Beelzebub, I’m not sure if you’re aware, but I know everything.” Barbatos. Beel’s eyes glanced at the butler before glancing back at Diavolo, who’s smirking now. “That’s right. Truthfully, I am hurt that my dearest friend would betray me like that, but I suppose it is payback. I don’t think he would hurt her, either. After all, he does hold a soft spot for her. However, there’s still one problem.” His smirk dropped and he grabbed Beelzebub by the throat, anger radiating through him again as he spoke through clenched teeth, “Barbatos can’t see where she is. He can’t see Lucifer either, which means he protected himself. You, Beelzebub, are going to tell me exactly where they are and in return, I’ll drop all charges against you and force you to only watch one of your beloved brothers die. If you don’t, I won’t hesitate to snap your neck, but not before I rip your brothers to shreds, starting with your favorite, Belphegor.” “Drop him, Diavolo. He doesn’t know anything.” Lucifer. Beel’s eyes landed behind Diavolo to watch the guy. Black. Gold. So that’s where he went. The smirk returned to Diavolo’s lips as he dropped Beelzebub back down, turning to face his dearest friend. 

“Welcome home, friend.” 

[alexthedrummerboy]

Darkest Before The Dawn

pairing: willex, past luke/alex

summary: "your parents were never cool again after you told them you were gay.” OR an exploration into alex’s past, his family life, and his relationship with religion

essentially this is all one big angsty headcanon

authors note: basically i’ve been thinking about the gold chain alex wears around his neck and i’ve been way overanalysing what it is and i thought - what if it used to be a cross necklace that his devout parents made him wear?? also i’m so desperate for alex to have more backstory that i’m pulling it out of every nook and cranny at this point

trigger warning: homophobia, bad parenting

ao3

It starts when he’s seven. He’d invited Bobby over to his house after school to play, not knowing that his dad had come home from work early. They’re sitting at the dining table, drawing with Alex’s new 36 pack of crayons when he hears it.

“I just think letting him do all that... art stuff is gonna make him...” he hears his dad say to his mom, “...soft. Girly. We already have one daughter, we don’t need another one.”

Alex doesn’t really understand what his Dad means, but he drops the crayon he’s holding and pokes Bobby on the wrist lightly. “I’m bored,” he says quietly, though his picture remains on the table unfinished. “Can we go do somethin’ else?”

Bobby furrows his eyebrows and looks down at his paper. “But... I didn’t finish colouring my dragon.” 

Alex looks at his Dad in the kitchen. He’s still talking to his mom, both of their heads bowed. He has that look on his face that reminds Alex of the time his mom tried to convince them to go vegetarian for a week. “We can finish colouring later... maybe,” he says. “Let’s go play in my room.”

Bobby takes one last look at his drawing but nods, gently folding the piece of paper in half and tucking it into his backpack. “Okay.”

They walk up to Alex’s room together, hand-in-hand like always. They pass the kitchen on the way and Alex’s dad turns his head, scowling deeper when he looks at their hands. Suddenly Alex feels cold all over. 

“Boys,” he says, deep voice booming. “You’re getting a little old to be holding hands, aren’t you?”

Alex lets go of Bobby’s hand immediately and tucks it into his trouser pocket instead, nodding. Bobby looks like he wants to protest but Alex just nudges him and nods towards his room. 

They walk away and Alex tries to brush the experience off. He doesn’t eat much at dinner that night.

---

His dad makes him quit choir the next year. He’s up in his room practicing for the Christmas festival when he hears three quiet knocks. 

“Come in,” he says, closing his music book. His dad walks in, still in his shirt and tie from work. “Oh. Hi, Dad.”

His dad smiles stiffly. “Alex, what are you doing?” 

Alex looks between his dad and his choir book for a moment. “Practicing for the festival,” he says, a smile growing on his face. “Mrs. Carson gave me a solo for the first--”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” his dad says, pursing his lips. “Wouldn’t you be happier... playing a sport or something? What about baseball? You know when your old man was in school, I was a real killer on the pitch.”

Alex’s tongue feels dry in his mouth the longer his dad speaks. He hates baseball. “Um... I-I like choir, though.” His voice is quiet, barely above a breath. His dad sighs and shakes his head. Alex feels an overwhelming sense of anxiety rise inside his chest. He hates disappointing people.

“I’m just worried about you, son,” he says, sitting down on the edge of Alex’s bed. “Okay, maybe not baseball. How about... soccer?”

Alex shuffles around on his chair. He feels like his heart has stopped beating. “Drums,” he mumbles, looking down at his hands. His dad leans closer. 

“Speak up, Alex.”

Alex looks up, clenching his jaw. “I-I wanna learn how to play the drums,” he says. “L-like that guy from The Rolling Stones.”

His dad goes quiet, scratching his chin like he’s thinking about it, before he smiles and nods. He claps Alex on the shoulder hard enough that it makes him wince. “Drums eh? Sure, we’ll get you a kit and you can set it up in the basement.” As he turns to walk out of Alex’s room, he turns and throws him a cheeky smile. “My boy, the drummer. You know they say girls love drummers.”

Alex isn’t sure why, but that comment makes him feel sick. He stares at his closed door for too long after his dad leaves, his thoughts twisting and turning in his mind.

---

When Alex receives his first cross, he’s 12-years-old. He immediately vows never to take it off. It’s a beautiful piece of jewellery; a small gold cross on a solid gold chain. When his mom slips it around his neck, he feels... protected, somehow. Safe. 

His mom smiles at him tearily as she hooks the clasp around his neck, running her hand down the side of his face. “Congratulations, baby,” she says quietly. “You know, my mother gave me my first cross when I was exactly your age. ”

Alex just smiles and tugs on the chain lightly, feeling the cool metal against his thumb and forefinger. “Thanks, mom,” he says quietly, looking down at where it’s dangling against the soft blue of his button down. 

His sister, Andrea, comes from behind him and knocks his shoulder lightly. Her own cross is silver and smaller than his, contrasting against her light skin perfectly. He doesn’t remember when she got hers. She was four years older than him and got hers when he was just a little kid. “Congrats, Lexi,” she says.

His dad comes out of the kitchen, a bottle of champagne in one hand and two flutes in the other. He’s beaming. “This calls for a celebration!”

His mother looks at his dad and tuts quietly, though she still looks pleased. “Michael, it’s barely 9. We have to leave for church soon.”

His dad simply brushes off her worry. “My son is being confirmed, Linda. We’re celebrating.” He kisses her on the cheek and hands her a champagne flute. “It won’t take long.”

He pours himself and Alex’s mother a small amount of champagne and Alex watches, entranced as they cheers and take a sip. His mother and his father lock eyes before handing their glasses to Alex and Andrea, smiling secret smiles. 

“Just this once,” his dad says. “Just one sip.”

Andrea takes the flute immediately and takes a sip. Alex watches her for a moment before taking his dad’s flute and lifting it up to his mouth.

The bubbles fizz and pop in his mouth. The taste is unpleasant, but... the feeling of his dad’s eyes on him, proud and sparkling with happiness make the experience a million times better.

As they drive to church, Alex keeps his hand firmly clasped around his cross, smiling the entire time.

---

Alex receives his first kiss when he’s 14. It happens in his basement with Luke Patterson. He’d invited him over so they could work on a song together. Luke had discovered him playing drums in the music room one day and had instantly recruited him to join his band, alongside Bobby and Reggie Anderson.

They’d long since abandoned practicing any form of music and were lounging on the couch in Alex’s basement, playing video games on his Sega Genesis. He’s so close to beating Luke at Mortal Kombat. They’ve been playing for 45 minutes and Alex has managed to lose every round so far.

But, with a fatal blow, Alex watches his character drop to his knees as Luke’s character poses victoriously. He groans loudly and leans back against the couch, trying his best not to pout as he hears Luke’s laughter next to him. “No fair!” he exclaims, dropping his controller beside him on the couch. 

Luke smirks, boxing Alex in the shoulder lightly. “Not my fault I’m better at this game than you are,” he says. He’s leaning towards Alex, his face mere inches away from his shoulder. “I’m just naturally skilled.”

Alex blushes and shuffles away from him, leaning into the arm rest and trying to ignore his heart as it pounds away in his chest. “Naturally ugly, more like,” he mumbles. It’s not the best comeback, but he can’t really focus right now.

Luke laughs anyway, punching Alex’s arm again and turning back to face the TV. Neither of them speak for a moment but Alex can feel the air thicken with a strange tension that he’s never felt before.

His hand automatically comes up to grip his cross, the edges of the metal digging into his palm. He takes a short breath in and out, feeling the cold metal warm up in his hand. 

He feels Luke’s eyes on him and he turns. There’s a small smile on Luke’s face that Alex can’t help but return. “What?” he asks.

Luke shrugs. “Nothin’,” he says softly.

Then, he leans in closer. Alex does not pull away.

Before he even realises what’s happening, they’re kissing. It’s chaste and completely innocent; a light press of lips against lips. Alex can tell that Luke hasn’t bothered to put on chapstick in his entire 14 years of life, but he tastes vaguely of grape bubblegum and iced tea. It’s nice. 

As they kiss, he feels his grip on his cross loosen until his hand falls completely slack, landing on top of Luke’s hand where it’s resting on a cushion.

They’re interrupted by the sound of footsteps against carpeted stairs. Alex jumps out of his seat and lands on the floor in front of the couch. Luke loses his balance and falls after him, landing face first in the couch cushion where Alex had just been sitting.

The basement door opens and Andrea pokes her head through, holding two capri suns and a bowl full of chips. She sees Alex on the floor and furrows her eyebrows. “Why are you on the ground?”

Alex clears his throat and blinks down at his knees, trying to hide his shaking hands. “Um... it-it’s more comfortable down here,” he mumbles. 

Andrea shrugs and walks in, placing the bowl of chips and the drinks on the coffee table. “Mom told me to give these to you.” She looks between the TV and the two of them. “I thought you guys were practicing.”

“We were!” Luke says, standing up and walking over to where his guitar is resting on the other side of the room. “We took a quick video game break, but we’re ready to get back to work. Right, Alex?”

Alex nods, but he can’t stand back up. “Right,” he says breathlessly, giving Andrea a weak smile. “Thanks for the snacks.”

Andrea nods, but she looks suspicious. She walks out of the room and shuts the door behind her. Alex doesn’t exhale until her footsteps have retreated completely. He breathes out shakily and draws his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. 

“Hey,” Luke says, running to Alex’s side. His hand hovers above Alex’s back before resting just behind him on the couch. “You okay?”

It takes a minute, but eventually Alex nods and looks up at Luke. “Yeah,” he replies, though his hands are still balled into tight fists. “I’m good.”

Luke nods, his hand tightening and loosening its grip on the couch cushion a few times. “Was that... weird?” he asks quietly. Alex has never heard him sound this unsure before. 

He shakes his head, a small smile growing on his face. “No,” he says quietly, and he means it too. “I don’t think so, anyway.”

Luke nods again, smiling brightly at Alex. “Okay. Cool.”

“Can we not... tell anyone? About that?” He asks quietly, looking up at Luke, eyes pleading. “I-I don’t know if I’m... if that...”

“Alex, of course,” Luke says earnestly, finally reaching over and resting his hand in Alex’s shoulder. “It’ll be just between us.”

Alex nods, smiling weakly. “Cool. Thanks.”

He feels mildly comforted by Luke’s words, but he can’t help the anxiety that grows in his stomach. He stands up and walks over to his kit, sitting down at his stool and twirling his drumstick in his hand.

When he closes his eyes that night, snuggled up in his bed, all he can think about are warm lips and iced tea.

---

He comes out at 16.

It doesn’t go well.

His mom cries like he’s just told her he died... but what makes him more anxious is his dad’s reaction.

He doesn’t say anything at first. Just stares at Alex with that those hard, light eyes. He doesn’t even look angry, he just looks... disappointed.

“Dad?” he says quietly. The word gets caught in his throat.

His dad breathes in slowly and stands up. He walks out of the living room shaking his head. Alex watches him go until he’s completely out of sight. All he can hear are his mothers sobs. All he can feel is the weight of his guilt pressing down on him.

His cross feels like it’s burning his skin through the fabric of his t-shirt. Suddenly it feels like he’s wearing a ten pound weight around his neck. It’s hard to swallow.

He wants to comfort his mom, but he doesn’t even know what he would say. What could he say that wouldn’t make everything worse?

So, he stands up and takes one last look at his mom before walking down the hall. He passes Andrea on the way to the basement. She looks at him and then toward the living room where they can both hear their mother’s sobs. 

“What’s wrong with mom?” she asks, placing a hand on his elbow. The touch burns. 

Alex opens his mouth to speak but the words he wants to say get stuck in his throat. He brushes past her, ignoring her questions and running down the stairs to the basement and shutting the door behind him.

He sits down behind his drums and raises his hand to clasp his necklace, holding it so tightly his hand begins to hurt. He can’t cry. He thinks if he could, then maybe he’d feel better, but... the tears won’t come.

So, he lets go of his cross and picks up his sticks instead, twirling the left one in his hand a few times before hitting his high tom once, hard. It feels good, but the feeling doesn’t last long.

Eventually, he loses himself in the rhythm, hitting each drum harder than the last. He forgets for a moment; forgets about the disaster that had happened just minutes ago upstairs. He pauses for a minute to catch his breath but finds his mind wandering; is his mother still crying? Why hadn’t his dad said anything?

He shakes the thought free before pounding on his drums again. He’s not even beating out a rhythm now; he’s just trying to fill the space with noise to keep his thoughts out.

He’s interrupted when the door opens. It's his dad, holding an empty duffel bag, a somber expression on his face. Alex raises his eyebrows and takes his earplugs out of his ears. “Dad?”

His dad winces when Alex speaks, throwing the empty duffel bag onto the floor. “Pack your things.”

All the blood drains from Alex’s face and he stands up on shaky legs. He’s gripping his drumsticks so tightly, it’s a miracle that the wood doesn’t fuse with his skin. “Wh-where’re we goin’?” he asks, though he has a suspicion. 

“We aren’t going anywhere, son,” his dad says. His eyes are on the carpet. He can’t even look at Alex. “Your mother and I... we can’t have you staying in this house.”

“What?!”

“If you’re going to choose to live with your... affliction,” he spits out the word like it’s poison; and in his dad’s mind, perhaps it is, “then it won’t do to have you living here, corrupting us with your ungodly temptations.”

“Dad--”

His father holds up a hand. “I’ll give you 15 minutes to get your things and leave.” He turns to leave the basement but Alex calls him back.

“Where am I supposed to go?” he asks, voice cracking as he tries to fight the tears that threaten to run down his cheeks. He knows crying will only make him more upset. His father doesn’t turn around.

“You can figure that out on your own.” Then, he walks out. Alex is alone. After a few moments, he walks out from behind his drums and picks up the. empty bag with weak hands and walks up to his room. 

He’s working on autopilot as he shoves clothes and shoes and random items (when will he ever need his model robot?) into the bag until it’s almost full to bursting. He drops the bag on his bed and stares at it. He can’t hear anything; all the sounds around him are dull, muted almost. 

He turns around and catches a glimpse of his reflection in his bedroom mirror. He still looks the same as he had that morning when he’d gotten dressed for school. There are still drawings on the back of his hand in blue and black ink from third period when Bobby and Luke decided to draw on him in lieu of paying attention to what Mr. Peters was saying.

Remarkably, he looks the same... but he couldn’t be more different. 

Alex’s eyes drop to the necklace around his neck. It almost hurts to look at now. He’d done well by his vow; hadn’t ever taken it off, even when Jeremy Matthews teased him about it (and received a firm smack on the head from Reggie).

Shakily, he lifts his hands and unclasps the necklace, holding onto the chain so tight that the links begin to make grooves in his skin. He takes hold of the cross and swallows thickly, looking at his warped reflection in the surface of it. 

He slowly slides the cross off of the chain and places it on his nightstand. The chain, though, he keeps though he doesn’t really know why. He puts the chain back around his neck. It feels bare without the cross on it weighing it down, but... Alex finds he kind of likes it. 

With that, he picks up his duffel bag and walks out of his room. He can hear the quiet sound of scraping cutlery against ceramic and he winces. They’d started dinner without him. 

As he walks towards the front door, he passes the dining table. When she hears his footsteps, Andrea looks up from her untouched plate of food and stands up. Alex shakes his head silently at her, gripping his bag strap tighter.

His parents don’t even look up. He gives Andrea a half-hearted smile and a wave before walking out the front door. He doesn’t bother taking his keys with him; he knows he won’t need to use them again.

The cold, night air smacks him right in the face as soon as he closes the door behind him. Then, without a second glance, he leaves and begins the short trek to Bobby’s house.

---

“So, I was wondering...” 

Willie turns to Alex and smiles at him, squeezing his hand gently. “Yeah?”

They’ve been walking down the pier together in comfortable silence for almost 15 minutes, but the question bubbles up in Alex’s chest before he can control himself.

Alex looks down at their interlaced fingers before gesturing towards the necklace around Willie’s neck. “What’s that key around your neck for?”

At the mention of his necklace, Willie wraps his hand around the key and gives it a light tug with his free hand. If Alex notices how Willie’s slowed their walking pace slightly, he doesn’t say anything. 

“It’s my house key,” he says softly. Alex parts his lips in surprise. “When I was a kid, I... I was pretty irresponsible. I was always losing things in random places. My mom used to tell me I’d lose my arms if they weren’t attached to my shoulders.” The smile on his face makes Alex want to cry. “When my folks gave me my first house key, it felt like I was finally growing up. I was so scared I would lose it, so I bought a chain. I’ve worn it around my neck ever since.”

“Even after...” Alex doesn’t continue his train of thought but Willie understands regardless. He nods.

“When I woke up after the accident, it was actually the first thing I reached for,” Willie says quietly, gripping Alex’s hand like a lifeline. “Force of habit, I guess.” 

“Have you ever tried to visit your place?” Alex asks quietly, steering Willie towards the edge of the pier so they can sit by the water. Willie nods.

“A couple times. After I died, I didn’t visit for months. It hurt too much.” He pauses, looking out over the water as he scoots closer to Alex until their shoulders are pressed together. “I visited them for the first time a year after I’d died. I couldn’t go in. I was too scared, so I just watched from the windows like a total creeper.” There’s a chuckle in Willie’s voice that astounds Alex. He doesn’t know how he can be so cheerful even while talking about something so heartbreaking. “My family moved sometime around ‘89. I haven’t tried to find them since.”

Alex nods, listening to the sound of the crashing waves and seagulls as they fly overhead. He doesn’t feel pressured to comfort Willie at all. He thinks that telling him his story might’ve upset Alex more than it upset him. Instead, he rubs his knuckles with his thumb slowly, his finger savouring the feel of every dip and crevice. 

“What about you?” Willie asks suddenly, turning to Alex. There’s a smile in his eye that Alex never wants to look away from. “Is that gold chain around your neck a remnant from your gangster rap phase, or...?”

Alex laughs brightly, throwing his head back. He can feel Willie laughing too, his shoulders bouncing up and down with every giggle. He stops and breathes out quietly, looking down at his chain and hooking his finger through it. 

“Um... there used to be a cross hanging from it,” he says. “My parents got it for me for my confirmation when I was 12. I basically didn’t take it off for five years.” 

Willie pauses, shuffles closer; almost as if he can tell what’s coming next. He doesn’t say anything, though, and somehow that makes it easier for Alex to keep going.

“When I came out, my parents um... they weren’t very cool about it,” he says, tugging a little harder on the chain. “My dad kicked me out.” Willie’s grip on his hand tightens and Alex lets out a breath. “When I was leaving, I took the cross off. It didn’t seem right to keep it after...” he clears his throat. “I kept the chain. I’m still not really sure why... I’ve been thinking about it ever since I left home. I think it’s just... a reminder of why I left and what I have now.”

Willie smiles, bumping their shoulders together. “What do you have now?”

He looks at Willie and find that he can’t control the smile that’s growing on his face either. Under the setting sun, Willie looks so beautiful; his tanned skin practically glowing and long dark hair moving with the breeze. He leans in and brushes a gentle kiss against the side of his lips. He feels Willie’s hand come up to cup his cheek and he leans into the touch. 

They pull away from each other after a few seconds and Alex smiles again, resting their foreheads together. 

“Freedom.”

[todourouki]

congrats on 1k+!! can i request for sfw #14 (domestic life w/ them 🥺) with aizawa, todoroki, bakugou, and shinsou? thank you sm!! i love your works :>

AHHH! thank you so much for this, it means a lot! and ugh this is so cuteeee!

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SFW PROMPT #14: What would living with them be like?

including aizawa, todoroki, bakugou, & shinsou

living with aizawa would be so nice

he’s not a high-maintenance guy

he’s more of a “as long as nothing looks like a piece of shit, we’re good”

matching sleeping bags

the man adores his sleep, i’m sure we all see that

so there’s soft blankets spread over every single couch/lounge-chair incase the two of you decide to nap

every day off, you guys have a tradition on waking up the latest time you possibly could, cooking breakfast together and eating it in bed with a show the two of you are currently binge watching on the tv

aizawa isn’t a bathroom hogger honestly he probably doesn’t even look in the mirror as much as he should

he’s pretty tidy when it comes to leaving his shit where it’s supposed to be

mostly because if he loses it, he knows he’ll be too lazy to look for it and he probably doesn’t have time

the furniture is all monochromatic

i don’t see him as a guy having brightly covered couches in his living room

everything is neutral, black, or white

minimalistic king

due to pure exhaustion all the time, color is out of the question, it reminds him of his students and he hates it but secretly loves it so all of his plates are multicolored

honestly living with aizawa sounds amazing

“Shouta,” you groan, eyes snapped harshly shut die to the light tracing into the room from the now open shades, “close the freaking things.”

Aizawa mumbles right after you, leg kicking the shade he once accidentally lifted with his foot back to where it once was. With the harsh tugs done by his feet, the light in the room finally fleeted away and allowed the comfortable dimness takeover once again.

The Pro-Hero’s arms gripped onto you tighter, nose nuzzled into your neck and bringing your body the kind of warmth necessary within the cold room. “S’go back to sleep, kitten.”

You mustered a smile, eyes still closed and hands running through the silky black hair resting underneath your neck. Mornings with Shouta were always the same— waking up once because of his leg obnoxiously releasing the shades, and both of you falling asleep once again in each other’s embrace.

You felt Aizawa begin to rub your back, fingers twinkling against your bare back soothing you beyond explanation. Within minutes, you felt yourself losing conscience, and you finally drifted back to sleep with the man you loved cradling you with unconscious admiration.

living with todoroki is exactly what you’d think it would be

i don’t mean to say it

but ima say it

this rich bitch has a ton of antique and expensive furniture lying around

mostly because he loves using his dad’s money

you and todoroki are a weird match

because you both love the exact same things

so all the furniture in your home

whether the living room be one color and bedroom be another

it all weirdly goes together because you’re both so good and coordinating shit

like your couch could be fucking orange

and the blue throw-pillows and decorations you cover your living room with just make sense

just like the two of you

living with todoroki means you figure out just how funny he actually is

also just how dense the boy could be

like he’s so sweet but also a little ✨dumb✨

he doesn’t know how to use the laundry machine and he never will don’t change my mind about this

todoroki loved cold soba we all know that

so there is a specific cabinet underneath the sink filled with all the ingredients for making it

that cabinet has to be restocked a lot

usually on days off, shouto would like to sleep in but he knows he just can’t

so if you like to sleep in, he already went out for a run, took a shower, and made you breakfast by the time you wake up

if you like to wake up early/with him, you find yourself either joining his workout or making him a hearty breakfast by the time he gets back

living with todoroki is really sweet bye i’m gonna go cry

“I just don’t understand why I’d have to press so many obnoxious buttons to get it to wash clothes,” he began, his stoic voice staring harshly at the machine infront of him as you stared at him in disbelief, “it isn’t my fault.”

“Shou, you froze the entire machine..” You repeated, a deadpanned expression on your face as you tried your hardest not to laugh.

You knew your boyfriend wasn’t the best at figuring things like this out, he hated to admit it but his family had done a lot for him back home. And sure, he wasn’t a little boy anymore and should probably know how to work a laundry machine, but he was convinced it acted up with him and him only.

“It was giving me a hard time, I didn’t even realize I froze it until I realized the clothes weren’t spinning anymore..” The frown on his face was one you couldn’t help but smile at, the grin taking over your face as you chortled a laugh.

With your empty hand, you gave the boy a kiss on the forehead, his calculating expression trying to decipher the reason certain clothes needed a certain temperature of water. Moments like this made you realize just why you loved Todoroki so much.

bakugou

is a handful

that’s clear to everyone

but living with him, oddly enough, is not

you both have a specific cleaning day

every single sunday morning

and that same night included the two of you watching a movie and having loud in-depth character analysis debate every single time

you both have special cooking days (he has more but it’s ok bc he won’t say it but he absolutely loves cooking for you)

bakugou has been through a lot, my baby

so consistency is something he depends on

he nearly breathes for it

routine is everything in your household, being something you grew accustomed to as well even if it’s not what you’re used to

every day you’d wait for him to get back home on the plush couch in the living room

so that way you’re the first thing he sees when he gets home, as well as a platter of his favorite food for the night and his fav tv show on the tv

he feels like he’s walking into heaven every single day

and depending on your schedules, you get the same thing when you get home if he beats you to it

a show/anime you’re trying to finish, the food you’ve begged him to make, and your loving boyfriend/husband lounged against the couch waiting for your arrival

you both wake up early— sorry, even if you don’t want to

bakugou doesn’t give a single fuck, he will wake you up and force you to either workout with him or start your day with him

on his days off though, you both sleep in until the afternoon

there’s literally no inbetween with your schedules

you’re both either up and ready to go by 8am or finally getting up to brush your teeth at 3pm

“How many times do I have to tell you— the real villain was not Sharpay, but Gabriella!” Your voice boomed, staring at your boyfriend who looked at you as if you had four heads.

“Babe, with all due respect, you’re a fucking idiot!” He retaliated just as aggressive and firm as you. “How can you say that when she’s such a bitch?!”

The credits of the movie you just watched played in the background, popcorn kernels pushing into the skin you had sprawled against your boyfriend. The pink reflected across your shirtless boyfriend, his ears beginning to redden due to the volume of his voice.

“Gabriella walked into that high school and literally stole everything Sharpay worked for,” you retorted, the straw you were drinking from entering your lips as you took a quick sip of the soda, “that’s being a bitch!”

He opened his mouth, signaling you to throw one of the Swedish Fish candies into his mouth and you did. With a laugh, you continued to throw food into one another’s mouth over and over throughout the argument.

“Maybe you resonate with Sharpay so much because you’re both bitches.” He snickered, dodging a pillow that fleeted your side of the couch and into his side by your right hand.

A gasp slipped your lips, narrowing your eyes at his tall figure and shoving a candy down your throat after his words, “maybe that’s why you love me, cause you’re a bitch too.”

living with shinsou >>>> breathing

shinsou is a gamer idc

there’s a playstation in both your room and your living room for game nights

yes

you guys had a game night

every single friday you guys would sit in nothing but (shinsou’s) t-shirt, and underwear and play nothing but video games all day

you usually end up falling asleep when the sun begins to come up, always taking saturday’s off no matter what for the occasion

you both are clean

being too lazy just like aizawa to have to find it if it’s misplaced

the bedroom look the best bc shinsou gets tired of monochromatic things and you hate living in a boring setting

so the two of you’s aesthetic shines through the room

if you cook, then please know food us up to you

if you can’t cook

money is spent 90% of the time on take out

because shinsou can’t cook for shit i don’t care

sometimes people wonder how it is you both manage to go to work and have a coherent sleeping schedule

and the reason is

aside from shinsou’s clinical insomnia )-:

that the two of you are absolute dumbasses

you spend all day doing homework if one of you is in college

or doing the work that needs to be done if you have just a job

and after that?

it’s just cuddling, gaming, struggling to cook, ordering take out, and eventual sleeping when you both realize you’re both past a point of ni return

most of the time though, you both manage to sleep

it’s more surprising for shinsou though bc he could never sleep properly if he’s alone

the two of you live together in GTA

also, I canon that Shinsou loves watching The Office so you guys binge watch the fuck out of that

living with shinsou is living with a bestfriend that is a civilized adult at certain times that you can cuddle and make out with

a girl can only dream <3

The sound of the console played through the room, your focused face watching the screen in front of you intently. The feeling of the bed moving along side every tap of the controller in your boyfriend’s hands trembled your limbs, your eyes being too locked on the screen to even maintain a balance.

“Go to the left, the left!” You pointed out, your legs sprawled across your boyfriend’s chest as he rested his body horizontally underneath yours.

“I know..” His voice was enough to show you he was focused, his eyes barely blinking as he followed your command and moved the character closer towards the left.

As gun shots erupted through the room, all you could see were flashes of red across the screen and players who had been attacked in Shinsou’s frenzy dead against the floor.

Exhilaration ran through your veins as finally killed the last person, the feeling of his body tending under you making you smile in happiness. You had both been trying to beat this level for weeks and you finally did it, exciting you to no limit.

The phrase “victory” strobed against the screen, making the two of you cheer in happiness at the time being well spent. He landed a big fat kiss on your cheek, pulling you in by the string in your hoodie and pressing you against him.

“Let’s beat some more ass in this next round, huh doll?”

“I’ll believe it when I see it, pretty boy.”

[blouisparadise]

Upon request, here is a rec list of bottom Louis fics with everyone’s favorite trope - sharing a bed! We hope you enjoy this list. Happy reading!

1) Just Like Live Wires | Explicit | 5427 words

Harry climbs into Louis' bed when he's cold. Louis pines.

2) Been Gone Way Too Long | Explicit | 8836 words

“This can’t be happening,” Louis says, banging his hand against the window. “This seriously can’t be happening right now.”

Things like this only happen in the movies. Things like this don’t happen in real life. There’s no way that he’s seriously been snowed in. There’s no way that the heating is broken. There’s no way that it’s going to take upwards of twenty-four hours and probably a lot longer for the storm to break and someone to come and rescue them.

“Just sit down, Louis,” Harry sighs from somewhere behind him. He sounds miserable, like he’s already feeling the cold.

Louis whirls around and points a finger at him. “Did you plan this?” he demands a little hysterically. He regrets the question as soon as it’s out of his mouth, but he thinks he’s got a valid point. It’s not like this storm just came out of nowhere - it has to have been on the news for a couple of days, at least. Plenty of time for Harry to have canceled this excursion.

3) I'm Trying Not To Make A Sound | Explicit | 10452 words

Louis thinks he could die right there. He can’t feel anything but the tingling sensation all over his skin. He’s throwing away all his past thoughts on trying to be straight and denying his reactions towards other men, he just wants more of this numbing feeling. Everything else is a long lost memory, can’t think of anything else besides, wow, this feels incredible.

4) Enjoy The Ride | Not Rated | 11103 words

The one where Louis, an omega more than tired of being treated as lesser than alphas, is forced on a road trip by his beta besties only to meet Harry who might just be the alpha he never knew he wanted.

5) Cuffed | Not Rated | 15254 words

What would you do if you were handcuffed to your enemy for 48 hours?

6) Up For It | Explicit | 18223 words

The one where Liam is Mr Organised, Zayn is too perceptive for his own good, Niall is a compulsive matchmaker, and Harry and Louis might just have the surprise to shock them all.

7) Holiday Greetings (And Gay Happy Meetings) | Not Rated | 18417 words | Sequel

Note: This fic has no smut, but it has omega Louis. The sequel has smut.

The one where Niall's dead car and and a foot of snow conspire to force Louis into spending time with an alpha he hates.... or does he?

8) The Aurora Zone | Explicit | 19633 words

The one where Harry is busy crossing off his bucket list while Louis is busy falling for the guy he's supposed to hate.

9) I Wanna Be More Than Friends | Not Rated | 20721 words

The one where Harry’s an alpha with no sense of smell, Louis’ an omega who isn’t allowed to scent his best friend, and that’s all they’ll ever be. Obviously.

10) Etched In Salt (Is A Cathedral Of The World) | Explicit | 24417 words

Note: This fic has BH mentions. It is also locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

Louis asks for very few things in life, and they are: to solve cases, to keep bad people from doing their bad things, to get good coffee, to go home to a spacious apartment with nobody else in it, and to manage his stupid telempathy powers with minimal interference. And now he's stuck in a tiny cabin in a snowstorm in the middle of god-awful-nowhere with Harry Styles. Because of course he is.

11) Like A Siren In The Night | Explicit | 25868 words

“There is an infestation in my home,” Louis hisses, righting himself quickly and pushing his way past Harry, heading directly for the kitchen. He’s rather haphazardly dressed himself, a coat thrown on over a loose flannel shirt and black pants, slippers on his feet.

Harry resists the urge to sigh, closing the door and trailing behind him slowly. “What kind of infestation?”

For all he knows, Louis is going to claim that there’s a ghost infestation. Harry has no idea what the end game is here – all he knows is that Louis has found at least three complaints a week to bring up since he’s been living on Harry’s property, and he’s been living here for six months.

It’s way too many fucking complaints, is what Harry is saying. Especially when most of them are ridiculous to start with.

12) Always Come Back To You | Explicit | 28682 words

“I’ll do it,” Harry offers brightly. No one even blinks. “I’ll do it?”

Louis sighs irritably. “Shut up,” he orders, tossing a pillow in the general direction of Harry’s face. This is a terrible time for jokes, especially Harry’s lame, old people ones.

Not that it was an old people joke. Just that most of the time Harry’s jokes consist of knock-knocks or terrible puns. The type of jokes old people like, Louis’ pretty sure. His nan always finds them hilarious when Harry tells her one.

Harry bats the pillow out of the air without even blinking. “Be reasonable, Lou,” he says in his most reasonable voice.

Louis is perfectly reasonable, thank you very much, and he’s also frustrated and upset and tired and he really wants to punch something. Maybe he should have held on to that pillow a little longer.

“You’re not gonna fucking do it,” he snaps. “That’s the last thing I need.”

13) We’re Not Who We Used To Be | Explicit | 30611 words

“Harry…” Louis’ voice catches in his throat, thick with tears threatening to fall out, so he coughs to clear it before trying again. “Harry is Liam’s best man?” “You didn’t know?” Harry is standing at the entrance of the garage, mouth slightly open and face pulled together. He sets his bag on the ground and puts his hands on his hips. When he does that, he looks just like the Harry that Louis remembers (and loves, he thinks with an aching heart). “I’m sure I mentioned it,” Liam says, but Louis can tell he’s lying by the way he chews on his lower lip and twists his fingers together. “You’re all a bunch of dick heads, I’m getting in the car.” Louis isn’t sure if he’s being unreasonable. He has no idea what the protocol is when your ex-boyfriend shows up after three years and nobody bothered to give you a heads up. He’s pretty sure he’s allowed to be upset about it, even if it’s only for a bit.

14) Blind From This Sweet, Sweet Craving | Explicit | 31170 words

"So, I guess we'll go?" Louis asks later, when Harry has calmed down and eaten his weight in Chinese food. He plays with this chopsticks, spearing another piece of chicken and pops it in his mouth. "I mean, I wouldn't mind. We could make it an adventure."

Harry observes him, watches him seated across from him on their old living room carpet, with a container of food on his lap. He's fidgeting, avoiding meeting Harry's gaze–he probably knows that Harry's mad at him for ruining the one chance they had to get out of this situation. And he's not wrong, Harry is definitely very mad. Harry wants to strangle him and castrate him and smack him upside the head.

But he's also Harry's best friend, and despite everything, despite all the fuck-ups and the plot twists and everything just not playing out the way it should, he'd still rather be stuck in this situation with Louis than any of the other boys. He's got Harry's back, and in a weird, abstract way, he knows they'll be able to get out of this situation, together.

Harry sighs. "We're going," he says resignedly, his shoulders slumping.

Oh well. There are definitely worse ways to spend the weekend than pretending to be engaged to his best friend.

15) Welcome Back From The Friend Zone | Mature | 32584 words

The one where an idea to create a fake wedding with the sole intent to receive gifts from billionaires took a turn no one, but also everyone, saw coming.

16) Let Me Feel Your Heartbeat | Explicit | 34572 words

Harry is 98% sure Louis hates him. So he feels like his bewilderment is justified when the omega offers to help him through his rut.

17) Close To Nowhere | Explicit | 34589 words

Louis and Harry are psychics who kind of hate each other. They go to Tennessee to investigate a haunting.

18) Playing To Win | Explicit | 36732 words

Big Brother UK alumni Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles are selected for the UK vs Australia All Stars series with a massive one million dollar prize in the offing. They’re both fit and smart and would make a great alliance... if only they can stop their feelings from getting in the way.

19) If I Stay | Mature | 37226 words

Harry and Louis agree to a temporary arrangement that Harry can't seem to walk away from no matter how many times he tries.

20) The Space Between | Explicit | 39917 words

Harry Styles is the alpha rockstar who can’t sleep and doesn’t know why.

Louis Tomlinson is the omega PhD student who helps him figure it out.

21) Strangers In Love | Explicit | 42207 words

Louis wakes up to find himself in a marriage with the last man he thought he'd ever end up with.

22) Tangled Up In You | Explicit | 45152 words

Harry blinks once. And blinks again. And says, his voice dangerous: “Niall, did you get me a mail-order bride?”

Because what the actual fuck. It kind of looks like Niall’s just purchased a person. For Harry.

Niall blinks back at him for a few moments, before throwing his head back and howling with laughter. Harry throws a pillow at him. Hard. “No, what the fuck, Harry.”

“A prostitute then?” Harry also doesn't want a prostitute.

“Of course not!”

“A stripper?”

“No!”

Damn, he’s running out of ideas. He settles for launching another pillow at Niall’s head. Niall bats it away easily, still laughing. “Stop!”

“What did you get me, then?!” Niall must hear the tinge of hysteria in his voice, because he’s pulling himself together, trying to stop himself from laughing.

There’s still a big grin on his face, though, when he says, “I got you a professional cuddler.”

A professional…what. “What?”

23) No Going Back | Explicit | 56102 words

Sales reps Harry and Louis are bored with their jobs and their lives. After meeting at a conference in Cardiff they hook up, have a few too many drinks, and jokingly apply to become remote lighthouse keepers. Six months, just the two of them, looking after the southernmost lighthouse off the bottom of Australia. It’s not like their applications will be accepted. Right?

This is the story of how one choice - a left instead of a right, a go instead of a stop, a yes instead of a no - can change the future forever and that sometimes, taking that leap of faith, is worth the risk.

24) Waiting For The Tides To Meet | Explicit | 59873 words

Soulmate AU. Everyone is born with heterochromia — one eye is their own eye colour, while the other is the colour of their soulmate's. It's only when they meet their soulmate for the first time that their own eyes match properly. After a hazy night at a frat party, Louis wakes up to blue eyes and the shocking realization that he had met his soulmate, without any sober recollection. Seven years pass where Louis comes to terms with the fact that he'll never know who his soulmate is. Then one fated summer, a beautiful green-eyed photographer arrives at Louis' workplace, with promises of endless laughter and a familiar feeling in Louis' heart.

25) Swallow The Knife | Explicit | 76158 words

“You came,” Louis says, still breathless, clinging to Harry, uncaring that his sweat is getting all over Harry’s presumably clean dad shirt, or that he’s making Harry hold up all of his weight.

“Of course I came,” Harry says. He shifts, one arm curled underneath Louis’ arse, the other spreading wide in the middle of Louis’ back. “If I ignored you every time you pissed me off we would have stopped being friends a long time ago.”

Louis already knows that, of course. It doesn’t do anything to stop the pleased squirm in his belly every time Harry proves it, though. They fight like nobody’s business, both of them too stubborn to pull their punches when they’re arguing, and it used to get them in trouble, but they always make up.

Adrenaline makes Louis loose-lipped, and they both know it. He tightens his arms around Harry’s neck, buries his face in his hair. “I missed you,” he confesses, quiet. “Doesn’t feel the same up there by myself.”

26) Waiting On You | Explicit | 76584 words

“Vampires,” Louis says with disgust, glaring over at the vampire who is noisily slurping from the woman’s neck nearby.

Zayn gives the neat fang marks on Louis’ neck a meaningful look.

“Can’t live with them, can’t live without them,” Louis finishes, ignoring Zayn when he rolls his eyes.

Louis takes a long sip of his milkshake, presses his fingers against the marks on his neck, and definitely doesn’t think about the vampire who left them there.

27) Perfect Storm | Explicit | 80230 words

What do you do when your best friend asks you and your (now) ex to be the best men at his destination wedding? You can either tell him the truth, tell him you’re not together anymore, and deal with the consequences, or you can pretend you’re still together and roll with it, just pray you don’t spiral. Fake it ‘til you make it. You know, for the sake of the wedding.

Harry and Louis choose the latter.

28) Nothing Worsens, Nothing Grows | Mature | 102528 words

Another roadtrip AU featuring Harry as the misunderstood hipster, Louis as the bitter psych major, Liam as the one with the secret boyfriend, and Niall as the one who just wants everyone to be happy.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

[skinsharpenedteeth]

Coming Up Easy - First Sightings

I am *SO* sorry this is so hella late this week. It's been... a fucking week. CW: One mention of a homophobic slur.

You can also read this on AO3!

CUE - First Sightings

Unpacking boxes was not one of Alex’s favorite activities. He hadn’t had many when he’d moved because he hadn’t wanted to rent a truck or deal with shipping things, so the twelve boxes he’d been able to load into the late nineties Ford Explorer encompassed all his worldly possessions. He’d finally gotten a chance to start unpacking the miscellaneous boxes after a trip to Ikea for bookshelves, a bed, and a couch. Furthermore, he’d promised himself he’d explore his new city more and find second-hand shops for other household furniture and accessories, but the bookshelves would be enough to finally clear away the last of his unpacked boxes.

Alex opened the last box and looked inside. His heart softened a little as he saw the small shoebox of photographs he kept. Promising himself he’d look through it later, he unpacked the few other knick-knacks out of the box and took them to the bookshelves to start placing them. The box didn’t reenter his mind until after dinner when he found himself lounging across his new sofa with a cold beer in his hand. The box stared at him from the floor where he’d left it. Setting down his beer on the floor, he quickly got up and grabbed the box, and brought it back over to the couch. He flipped open the top and gingerly picked up the pile closest to him.

Michael and him in the desert with guitars. Liz, Max, Michael, and him at a church car wash. Michael, Kyle, and him all leaning against a bathroom wall in various stages of being phenomenally sick from drinking too much. Him and Michael hanging out at the UFO Emporium. Him and Michael eating pizza and playing video games at Max and Isobel’s. Him and Michael in college at a frat party. Him and Michael. Him and Michael. Him and Michael…

It hit Alex quite suddenly that basically since he and Michael had become friends they’d been fairly inseparable. They’d dated other people and had friends that the other didn’t like, but as a rule, it was always the two of them against the world and it had been since they were fifteen. He picked up his phone and snapped a photo of the photograph he held in his hand where they were sixteen, pimply, awkward, and bent over laughing outside the high school band room.

Me 8:46 p.m.>> Who the fuck are these dorks? <<Picture sent at 8:46 p.m.>> <<Michael 8:50 p.m.>> Holy shit, look at those nerds!! <<Michael 8:51 p.m.>> Though I gotta say, the emo one is pretty hot. If I were sixteen, I’d definitely have a crush on him. Me 8:52 p.m.>> You did not have a crush on me at 16! I was so tragic! <<Michael 8:53 p.m.>> You were not. You were fucking feral. You took exactly zero percent shit from anyone. It was hot as fuck. Me 8:55 p.m.>> You are definitely misremembering the amount of bullshit I put up with. <<Michael 9:00 p.m.>> Do you know what you were doing the first time I saw you?

Alex cast back in his memory. He remembered the first time he was aware of Michael, but not necessarily the first time Michael was aware of him. He always assumed it was at the same time.

Me 9:02 p.m.>> Uh? Scribbling emo song lyrics on my bio lab notebook? <<Michael 9:03 p.m.>> Nope. <<Michael 9:03 p.m.>> You were having a fight with Kyle during gym because he tagged your gym shirt with the word “faggot” in pink sharpie.

“Mr. Manes, you cannot wear shirts with inappropriate text on them. This is the gym. White shirts only,” Coach Heim called at Alex as soon as he walked out of the locker room and started towards where the rest of the class was lounging in the middle of the basketball court. Alex could see Kyle elbowing his football buddies and smirking, barely containing their laughter. Alex felt his face grow hot with embarrassment and fury. He kept walking towards the group.

“MR. MANES! GO CHANGE YOUR SHIRT!” the coach yelled, putting more authority into his deep baritone. He was a fit, balding adult who generally was an alright guy, but Alex was swelling with indignation. He stopped a few feet away from the group so he didn’t have to yell to be heard.

“I don’t have another shirt, sir. This is my gym shirt,” Alex explained through clenched teeth. As the rest of the class got a good look at the words emblazoned across his chest and stomach, he heard them begin to snicker and giggle quietly.

“Well, you can’t wear that one. You’re smarter than this, Alex, why would you wear this out of the locker room?” the coach asked, not sounding unkind. He shot the gathered students a dirty look and they quieted their laughter.

“Because it’s all I had to wear and it’s not my fault it was defaced. Some pink-fingered fucking COWARD of a football player must’ve thought it’d be REAL FUNNY to break into my locker and--” Alex started, voice growing louder as he let the heat behind his cheeks infuse his voice.

“I did no such thing!” Kyle yelled, cutting in on Alex. Coach Heim looked over at him, eyes narrowed. He opened his mouth to say something, maybe to tell Kyle to sit down, but as soon as Kyle stepped forward away from his buddies, Alex pounced. He landed the first hit on Kyle’s cheek, the meaty smack of their skin satisfying to him. Kyle shook it off and came at him. Before he knew it, they were rolling on the ground hitting each other as hard as they could in anyplace visible. The pain was nothing new for Alex and he kept his head clear as he tried to aim for spots that would hurt long after he was pulled off.

Too soon, arms were wrapped around his chest and a much bigger body than his was pulling him back and off of where he’d pinned Valenti to the ground. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, his ears still ringing with rage, but he could see the thin trickle of blood from Kyle’s split lip and he felt himself smile at the shock on everyone else’s face as they watched him get dragged back. He would not take Kyle’s shit this year. He would not take anyone’s shit.

Alex rubbed his fingers across his eyebrows and sighed deeply. He had been so ready to cause someone else pain by then. His dad had only gotten worse towards him when Kyle started to pull away because it meant that his “unnaturalness” was evident to everyone. His fight then and the fights in the following year always had more to do with his dad than with him being ashamed of being gay. He put the photos down in the box and went to grab a bottle of water from the fridge. His phone chimed as he unscrewed the top and after a deep drink, he checked the message.

<<Michael 9:13 p.m.>> Uh oh, you’ve left me on read. You okay? Me 9:14 p.m.>> I’m fine. Sorry. Just got wrapped up in my head for a minute. Me 9:15 p.m.>> How did you see that? You weren’t in my gym class? <<Michael 9:16 p.m.>> I was hiding under the bleachers skipping english. Me 9:17 p.m.>> THAT WAS THE FIRST DAY! <<Michael 9:17 p.m.>> Right? Nothing to do anyway. It was fine. It’s in the past. I graduated high school, didn’t I? No harm, no foul.

Alex laughed quietly to himself, staring at the message screen. He went back to the couch and flopped back down across the cushions with a sigh.

Me 9:20 p.m.>> You did. Even graduated college. I guess you’re right. <<Michael 9:21 p.m.>> When do you remember seeing me for the first time? Me 9: 23 p.m.>> I feel like it was biology when we were lab partners. I was supposed to be with Max, remember? <<Michael 9:24 p.m.>> Yeah, I was with Liz. Max had no chill back then. How the fuck did it take Liz until senior year to notice that he liked her? Me 9:35 p.m.>> Had no chill? *Has* no chill.

“Michael! MI-CHAEL!” Max hissed loudly from his seat next to Alex two rows behind where Liz was sitting. The class period was just getting started and everyone was still milling around trying to find their assigned seats. Michael looked over his shoulder at Max who was looking desperately at him. Michael mouthed ‘what?!’ and gave Max an irritated glare.

“Switch with me!” Max whisper screamed. Alex was smirking into his notebook as he watched the exchange through the side of his eye. He hadn’t really noticed the curly-haired boy before, but the eye roll he gave Max was epic. He started to turn back to the front when Max whispered again. “I’ll pay you!”

Michael turned back around abruptly and narrowed his eyes.

“How much?” Michael asked, not whispering but keeping his voice low enough not to carry to the teacher who was about to start taking roll. Max looked desperately towards the front of the class at Liz’s back where she was ignoring what was happening beside her in favor of actually paying attention. She was about the only one.

“Fifty,” Max called out.

“Seventy-five and you buy my lunch for a week,” Michael countered. Alex was highly amused. Max darted his eyes over to Liz’s back again and nodded. Michael grabbed his stuff and moved quickly towards the back of the classroom while Max grabbed his stuff to go forward.

“Sorry!” Max called out to Alex softly before he left. Alex watched him slide into the seat next to Liz smoothly and take out his notebook. She looked over and smiled at him in confusion, turning to look back at where Michael was now taking his seat next to Alex. Alex looked over at him and was struck full in the face with his mischievous grin.

“That sucker, I would’ve done it for twenty-five,” Michael shared with Alex conspiratorially, leaning closer to him while he spoke so his voice wouldn’t reach Max’s ears. Alex felt himself blushing a little at the somewhat flirtatious smirk Michael was giving him. He’d been aware of Michael, but hadn’t really ever paid him any mind. Now he was near him, he could see the interesting light brown of his eyes somewhere between gold and green. He also smelled a little like lake water and the woodsy, spicy deodorant Alex had smelled on Mr. Valenti. It was weirdly comforting.

“So he has a thing for Liz or is he that afraid of failing bio that badly? I’m not stupid,” Alex asked, clearing his throat and trying not to seem offended by Max’s desperation to switch partners.

“Oh, he has a major thing for Liz. It’s gross. Like, she’s pretty, don’t get me wrong. But he’s been writing Mr. and Mrs. Ortecho-Evans in his notebook since third grade or some shit like that,” Michael revealed, taking out his own bio notebook from his bag and setting in on the lab table in front of him. Alex took in what he was saying and nodded.

“So it’s not cause everyone says I’m gay?” Alex asked, voice low and a little nervous to see Michael’s reaction. Michael looked over at him, eyebrows drawn together and something like sympathy passing over his expression before he responded.

“No, man. Max doesn’t give a shit about that and neither do I. You weren’t planning on trying to date him, were you?” Michael asked, shooting him a grin. Alex grinned back, relieved to hear that someone in the school who was so upstanding and obviously straight like Max wasn’t a complete jerk. Michael didn’t seem too bad either.

“Nah. He’s not my type. I like musicians,” Alex joked, shooting Michael a side-grin.

“You don’t say? Do you play?” Michael asked, eyes forward now in a semblance of paying attention to the teacher. Alex glanced up towards the board, but continued slouching over his lyrics notebook.

“Guitar,” he replied shortly as the teacher started explaining their first lab assignment.

“Cool. Me too,” Michael said. Alex could see him studying him out of the corner of his eye. “We should jam sometime.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

And they did jam together eventually. A week later they’d gotten together and Alex had learned that Michael did not know one end of a guitar from the other. He’d let Michael borrow his brother Greg’s guitar and then taught him everything he knew over the course of the next three months.

Me 9:40 p.m.>> Man. Who knew we’d still be friends this long after. <<Michael 9:45 p.m.>> I did. Once you taught me to play guitar, you were stuck with me for life. There’s an unbreakable bond built when one dude teaches another dude how to finger... Me 9:46 p.m.>> Jesus Christ. That was terrible. <<Michael 9:47 p.m.>> Bet you’re laughing though. Me 9:48 p.m.>> I plead the fifth. Also, I gotta get to bed. Early day tomorrow. <<Michael 9:50 p.m.>> That’s some responsible adult behavior right there. Gross. Me 9:51 p.m.>> You’re gross. <<Michael 9:52 p.m.>> I am gross. I’m going to take a shower and change that, however. When will you be young and fun again? Me 9:53 p.m. >> Shut up. Go take your shower. <<Michael 9:53 p.m.>> Fine. Go to bed. Think about me in bed. Me 9:54 p.m.>> *You* think about me in bed. <<Michael 9:55 p.m.>> Always do. Night Me 9:56 p.m.>> Night.

Alex heaved himself off the couch and went to his room. The apartment always seemed so dark and lonely when he finished talking with Michael. He needed to work on making friends. That would help him not miss him so much.

[chaoticpuff17]

A Dangerous Game

part 14

Masterlist

Warning: language, spanking (nonconsensual, nonsexual) Yandere behavior (of course)

Hello darlings! This is the first chapter I’ve felt the need to put a warning on. It’s really nothing graphic, but I’m still a baby writer, and it was a little out of my normal comfort zone to write. Just a reminder that we do not condone yandere behavior in real life! But I hope you all enjoy the chapter!-- chaotic puff

“Fuck!” She screamed tugging on the restraints that kept her pinned down to the bed, but they wouldn’t budge. Namjoon had fastened the leather cuffs tightly, and the only thing tugging on them did was cause bruising on her wrists and the chains to rattle unsettlingly. Eventually she gave up, flopping back against the mattress to stare up at the ceiling until Namjoon deigned to return.

Part of her wanted to claw his eyes out, but the greater part of her wanted to disappear into the mattress before he could arrive. She’d fucked up. He hadn’t even been this angry when she had tried to jump from the window, but that could have been because she’d not only broken several of his rules, oh no, she’d also ran from him. And then there was Jackson.

Her blood ran cold just thinking of it. She had to warn Jackson. She had to get him out of Korea before Namjoon got to him. She could survive in this hell, but she wouldn’t let Jackson lose his life on her behalf. There was nothing she could do when she was quite literally chained to the bed though.

She could only assume that this was Namjoon’s room. Where else would could it be? It certainly wasn’t her room. But in her current predicament she couldn’t really see much of the room itself, and she didn’t get a good look at it when she was hung over Namjoon’s shoulder. If only she’d been able to make it out further into the garden. Maybe she could have hidden from them. It wouldn’t have been a long term solution, but it would have kept her away from Namjoon and his wrath for a little while longer at least.

She didn’t know how long she’d lain there waiting for his return, but it felt like eons. There was nothing to do but lie there and wait. The restraints made it impossible for her to even take a good look around the room. The worst part of it was that it left her alone with the anticipation of his return, that horrid sinking feeling that came with the knowledge that with his return Namjoon would bring some sort of punishment with him. He wasn’t going to let this pass, not when she’d thrown his ring, the symbol of his attachment to her, in his face.

“Hello, jagiya.” He cooed. She couldn’t see him yet, but her entire body went rigid with the knowledge that he was back. She lifted her head to see him standing at the foot of the bed with a man she had never seen before. “This is Taehyung.” Namjoon introduced a sly smirk on his face as he moved around the side of the bed to come sit next to her. “You see, jagi, Taehyung has a certain… aptitude for technology, and he’s prepared something especially for you, jagi.”

She really didn’t like the sound of that, nor did she like the look of the black case Taehyung held in his hands.

“Namjoon?” She warbled out looking at him with wide panicked eyes, but he only shushed her and beckoned Taehyung forward.

“I had hoped we wouldn’t need such measures, jagi. You’d been doing so well, but it seems I overestimated you. That’s my fault, jagi, but don’t worry.” She was definitely very, very worried. “This should help immensely.”

She watched with trepidation as Taehyung opened the case and pulled out a black band with a little box attached to it. The effect was immediate. Y/N started kicking out her legs and thrashing against the bindings in an attempt to keep both men at bay. She didn’t have much choice, but she’d be damned if she let them put that on her without a fight.

“Hyung?” Taehyung asked looking at the older man a little unsure of what to do, if he was allowed to restrain her.

“Do it.” He confirmed as he moved to hold her legs down.

“No!” She shrieked fighting against the firm hold he had on her legs, but Namjoon was by no means a small man, and she had the greater part of his body weight pressed down on her legs. “Please, don’t!” She begged as tears began to gather in her eyes.

“It’s for your own good, jagi.” Namjoon cooed as Taehyung attached the device to her ankle.

“No!” She wailed as the device was locked in place.

Namjoon moved back up to rest near her head, stroking her hair and cooing soft assurances at her as Taehyung fiddled with the settings of the anklet. “It’s all set, hyung!” Taehyung chirped giving the two of them a boxy smile. “Her boundaries are set for the house and part of the garden. Your phone will get an alert if she strays too far from the house.” He was far too cheerful about her new torture, and Y/N hated him in this particular moment, but not as much as she hated Namjoon.

“Thank you, Tae.” Namjoon nodded dismissing the younger man as he continued to stroke her hair as she silently cried keeping her head turned away from him. It was all she could really do. The cuffs prevented her from moving away from him.

“Jagi.” He cooed once Taehyung had left the room. “Don’t pout. This was for your own good. I can’t have you running out like that and getting yourself hurt.”

“It’s a fucking tracking anklet. Where exactly do you expect me to go? I’m already locked in this fucking hell hole.”

“It’s for your own good. Actions have consequences.”

“Fuck you.” She hissed pouring every ounce of venom she was feeling into those two little words.

“Language.” He barked turning her head so that she was looking up at him and his extremely displeased expression. “You’ve broken enough rules today, don’t you think?”

“I hate you.” She hissed wrenching her head away.

He chuckled smiling coldly down at her. “Oh, jagi. The line between love and hate is very thin. You’ll get over this little temper tantrum soon enough, and everything will fall into place.” He cooed. “It will be better once that pesky police officer is out of the way.”

Her blood ran cold. “You can’t!” She cried tears running freely as she looked at him.

“Of course I can. He’s in my way.”

“If you touch him, I’ll never forgive you.” She hissed glaring at him through her tears.

He was still smiling, but his eyes were sharp and cold, displeased with her. “You’ll forget all about him in due time. I’ll keep you so satisfied that you’ll never need to look at another man.”

“I will never let you touch me.”

“I won’t take you by force, Y/N. You’re my wife, not some common whore, but you will come to me, one way or another. I’m a patient man. I can wait.” She looked at him, eyes just as cold as his. “And we have all the time in the world.”

“I’m not your fucking wife.” She spat glaring up at him.

He hummed noncommittally taking her ring out of his pocket and slipping it back on her finger. There was nothing she could do about it with her hands restrained, but she had the urge to take that ring and shove it down his throat.

“You’re right, jagi. You’re not my wife, not legally, but that’s a situation we can easily rectify.”

She froze, turning to him look at him, trying to see if he was serious, and unfortunately, he was. “No.” She growled. “I won’t marry you, not in this lifetime.”

“It’s sweet, jagi.” He mused lovingly caressing her face. “You think you have a choice in this.”

“You fucking maniac!” She snarled pulling on her restraints in a futile effort to get away from him.

“Language!” He barked glaring down at her. “That’s you last warning, jagi. You’ve been testing my patience all evening, and I’ve been lenient with you. Don’t test me.”

She looked up at him, cocking her head to one side innocently before gracing him with a near angelic smile. “Go fuck yourself.”

He froze, a cold smile fixed to his features. “Wrong move, jagi.”

He unhooked the chained from her cuffs, and she was flipped over, her skirt flipped up followed by an indignant shriek from her. “I warned you, jagi.” He growled as the first strike fell across her ass followed swiftly by another and another.  The hits fell one after the other each one as harsh as the last until she was almost numb from the pain and begging him to stop.

When it was finally over she was a sniveling trembling mess on the pillows. Gently, Namjoon undid the cuffs placing them on the side table before pulling her into his arms so that she was lying across his chest as she trembled. He moved her skirt back down so that she was covered as he ran a hand up and down her back.

“I know, jagi. I know, but you never seem to learn.” He cooed. “It’s over now.”

“I hate you.” She sobbed though she clung to his chest hating herself for finding comfort in the embrace of the same man who had been the cause of her pain.  

“I know, jagi. I know.” He shushed reveling in the feel of her clinging to him. “I’ll call, Miss In to run you a bath, and bring up some tea. Okay.”

Soon enough she had been shuttled off into a warm bath with Miss In overseeing her as Namjoon waited in the bedroom. The older woman cooed and fussed over her like a child, and in that moment, Y/N truly did feel like one. He had spanked her. The pain was bad enough, but it was the indignation that was the worst, the humiliation.

“Here, bu-in. Drink some tea.” Miss In said handing her a cup as her charge sat shocked and numb in the bathtub. “It will help.”

“I want to go home.” She whispered staring at the bubbled that filled the tub as she took a sip of her tea.

“You are home, bu-in.”

And after that she stayed silent choosing instead to play with the bubbles. Eventually Miss In pulled her out of the bath and dried her off sticking her in a nightgown she had brought from the other room. The silky pink fabric fell a little bellow her mid-thigh, and the soft material was gentle against her sore behind, a fact she was very grateful for.

She left the bathroom with Miss In, ready to go back to her own room and sleep for the next century. She was exhausted.

“Where are you going, jagi?” Namjoon called from his position lounging on the bed with a book, glasses perched on his nose.

“Back to my room?”

He smiled softly putting the book aside. “You’ll be staying here from now on, jagi.”

Y/N looked to Miss In as if to beg for help, but the housekeeper had already left the room. “I think I’d prefer to go back to my own room.” She murmured eyes fixed on her feet and the cursed tracking anklet.

“It’s not up for debate, jagi. Now come to bed.” He held out a hand beckoning her to him. Made no effort to move. “I’m waiting, jagi.”

Reluctantly she moved to join him choosing to stay on the opposite end of the large bed. She was so far to the side, she was almost falling over the side as he turned out the lights. She heard a sigh and the rustle of blankets before an arm snaked across her waist pulling her into his chest. He placed a soft kiss on her forehead before settling down behind her.

“Goodnight, jagi.”

She was thankful for the dark, he couldn’t see the tears as they silently fell down her face.

part 15

[all-consuming]

Some Dramione reading material for you. Made by our brilliant fandom writers. Neatly compiled for your enjoyment. One-shots first, followed by multi chapter. Hope you can find something to tickle your fancy. ( * represents a personal favorite)

<3 an obsessed Dramione shipper

1. (Not so) Fake Dating by MsRen

A fter claiming she'll be bringing a date to Christmas at the Burrow, Hermione finds herself in a bind considering there is no boyfriend. Until Draco insists that he can fill the role. Faking a relationship can't be that hard, can it? After all, they've already got the tension down.

2. Whiteout by gubabuba and LovesBitca8

Detention with Draco Malfoy shouldn't be this complicated, should it? || Seventh Year AU (Bonus:ART)

3. A Drop in Pressure by featherandink

Hermione Granger is in pursuit of an answer.

4. Queen of Lonely Hearts by raven_maiden

Hermione Granger has a brilliant idea for the office Christmas Party this year. Her coworker, Draco Malfoy, begs to disagree.

5. A Patient Man by LadyKenz347

Draco Malfoy is fine to wait. He's a patient man, after all, but when Hermione remains oblivious to his advances, he decides it's time to take matters into his own hands.

6. Caffeine Cold by HawthornSparks

He grabbed her by the waist, pulling her into him as he stared down at her, breathing furiously, teasing her with his aching hardness pressed tightly between them. “This isn’t a game, Granger.”

“Fuck you.” He grinned briefly, sharply, before leaning in hard and fast again, bruising her lips - she was sure of it.

7. Slowly Toward Desire by phlox

Hermione decides then and there to stop thinking she has any idea whatsoever of what to expect from Draco Malfoy. She hasn’t a clue.

8. The Department of Inter-Magical and Nonmagical Relations by badjujuboo (miztrezboo)

Hermione Granger annoys Draco. The way she chews her pen annoys him. The way she stares at him with her big eyes and the way she always argues infuriates him. And just when did he start thinking of her as Hermione, anyway?

9. Beltane by elithein and senlinyu*

When Draco had heard the week before that several eighth years were planning to sneak out and perform a Beltane sex ritual in the Forbidden Forest, he dismissed it. Fertility rituals were intensely private magic, not something anyone with respect or common sense would enter into experimentally while attending school. Ravenclaws. Fuck all Ravenclaws. (Bonus: ART)

10. Ungentlemanly Behavior by missELY and morticiahavisham

After a tipsy hook up, Draco Malfoy has an apology to make. Hermione Granger would prefer not to hear it. But when they're forced to work together on a tricky translation, she's finds she can't avoid it.

11. When What’s Right is Wrong by LovesBitca8

A smutty AU of The Auction Chapter 19 wherein Draco cannot find a magical solution to his problem. (Bonus: ART)

12. The Art of Seating Etiquette by inadaze22

Hermione believes that every problem has a solution, and that solution can be found in a book. That is, until Draco starts sitting to her right every Friday. She has no answers until help comes in the form of an unlikely source: Ron Weasley.

13. My Brown-Eyed Girl by PacificRimbaud

Draco and Hermione have a lazy snuggle in the grass behind the Quidditch pitch. (Bonus: ART)

14. Out of Order by worksofstone

Hermione's stuck in a broken lift with a tipsy Draco Malfoy. What a way to spend the Friday before Christmas.

15. Fuck,Marry,Avada by Lilian_Silver *

Some years after the war, the gang meets up at the Leaky to play a silly game, with very real consequences.

16. The Unintentional Voyeur by DramioneDreaming

When Hermione Granger walks into the Prefect bathroom looking for a way to release some tension she doesn't expect it to be quite like this...

17. Familiar faces, worn out places by LovesBitca8*

“You are at St. Mungo’s. You were in a coma.” He looks me over again, taking a pause. “I am a Healer here now,” he says, like it explains something. My fingers stretch, drifting across his sleeve. He looks down, like I’ve thrown mud at him. Forcing my vocal chords together for the first time, I whisper, “What’s your name?”

18. Apples & cream by LovesBitca8

She could have taken her things and gone through his Floo without a word. She could have ignored him on Monday morning, as though last night had been no more than a fever dream and too much Firewhisky...But she’d come back to bed. (Bonus:ART)

19. Strange you Never Knew by raven_maiden

Something strange is up with Malfoy, Hermione's fellow Auror and secret shagging partner. Ready or not, she's about to find out.

20. Seeker Fit by elithien and senlinyu*

“Will the Head Girl grace the pitch with her presence for today’s match?” The timbre of Malfoy’s cool lilting drawl slid down Hermione’s spine.

She stared determinedly at the book on her lap. “As I have explained many times now, I despise Quidditch. Sitting in the rain, watching people zoom around on broomsticks, risking their lives for the sake of a game is not even remotely enjoyable.” There was a pause and she glanced up to be greeted by the sight of Malfoy, dressed in his Quidditch uniform, carefully tightening the laces on his dark leather shin-guards. (Bonus: ART)

21. Voices Drifting by raven_maiden*

After one last night together at the Ministry Gala, Hermione Granger plans to purge her secret shagging partner from her system. But when it comes to Draco Malfoy, nothing goes according to plan.

Multi-Chapter

1. When Midnight Comes by Curly_Kay

“Granger, look at me.” Draco walked up to her, his silver eyes searching hers. “We are stuck in a time loop, all of us. I don’t know how long it’s been happening, but it’s been going for weeks and I’m the only one who has been outside the loop. I’m the only one who has remembered anything from one day to the next, that is before now—before you.” His throat bobbed with a harsh swallow. “Please, I need your help.”

2. Couples Weekend by LadyKenz347*

Sneaking away for a weekend in the woods with your fake boyfriend and your best friends is bound to have its hiccups, but no one could prepare for what this weekend has in store.

3. Wait and Hope by mightbewriting*

“Harry,” Hermione began, voice very controlled, but she could feel the blade of panic slicing at her vocal cords. “Why was Draco Malfoy just screaming bloody murder about his,” and the word almost strangled her as she said it, “wife?”

Harry's green eyes blew wide. Healer Lucas pinched the bridge of her nose, clearly displeased with the recent series of events.

“He was referring to you, my dear,” she said. “That was the other question you got wrong. Your name is Hermione Jean Granger-Malfoy.”

Hermione had to be sedated again.

4. The Right Thing to do by LovesBitca8

Hermione felt the pounding in her ears again. She would see him for the first time since the Great Hall, gaunt and stricken at the Slytherin table with his mother clutching his arm. She hadn't meant to look for him. Not in the corridors, not beneath the white sheets of the fallen, not on the way to the Chamber of Secrets with Ron, but she was a stupid girl.

5. Don’t Threaten Me With a Good Time by monstersleadmehome

Lucius Malfoy hires Hermione Granger to whip his son into shape so he can find a pure-blood bride and receive his inheritance. What could go wrong?

[erin-bo-berin]

Jealousy

MASTERLIST

I wrote this fic AGES ago back when I first watched the season 14 finale, but for some reason its been sitting on the back burner as I wasn’t quite happy with it. But anyway, now it’s finally seeing the light of day and was heavily inspired by the poker game at the beginning of the episode, as you can probably tell by tge gif. I hope you enjoy some more Spencer feels.

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: Mature (smut)

Word Count: 2,913

“Pair of kings, pair of sevens. Oh I’m sorry, three sevens.”

Everyone groaned, throwing down their cards as they surrendered to the normality of Dr. Spencer Reid winning another hand of poker.

It was after hours at the BAU and a few of you decided to unwind in the briefing room by playing poker. So far, Spencer had won every round. But the night was early and you all were only a few hands in. 

“I wanna know how Y/N was taught by you, yet still can’t beat you.” Luke shook his head.

“Sorry, but the brains also helps with the wins,” Spencer chuckled.

You mock scowled, before laughing yourself. Not long ago you’d asked Dr. Reid to teach you how to play poker since he was the best and you had zero knowledge of the game. That and it was a good excuse to spend time with him since you’d been harboring a crush on him. 

“I don’t know about you guys, but I am determined to beat Spence,” JJ grinned.

“Oh, I'd love to see the lady try,” he smirked at her.

You felt a twinge of jealousy, probably irrationally so since it was obvious to you that he’d had a crush on JJ forever. You couldn’t blame him exactly; even if your best friend was married, she was still stunning.

“Let’s go then,” Luke said, dispersing new cards around the table.

•

“I’m all in,” Spencer said, pushing his candy towards the pile in the middle of the table.

You had to resist the urge to groan. Your hand of cards were absolute shit.

“I fold.” You put your cards down, thankful that you didn’t have anything to lose this hand.

“Same here,” Luke said, tossing his hand, “Hey Y/N maybe we should start the worst poker players club. You in?”

You laughed, pushing your hair back over your shoulder, “As long as I’m the president.”

“Deal.”

Across the table, you noticed Spencer’s eyes squint—like he did when he was analyzing something—as he watched the two of you. You weren’t exactly sure what that was about.

You watched as JJ pushed her pile of change and candy towards the pot.

“I’m all in.”

Spencer’s focus turned back to her as he made a tsking sound, while JJ flashed an innocent smile.

“Okay show us your cards,” Luke waved his hand, anxious to see who would win. You had to admit the suspense was killing you as well.

“Four of a kind!” Spencer beamed when his cards touched the table, showing his four 5’s. 

Your and Luke’s head immediately swiveled the opposite direction as JJ set her cards down with a flourish. It was a straight flush.

Luke whooped and your jaw dropped. Spencer was speechless. 

“No. Way.” You said, in awe, watching JJ pull all her earnings towards herself.

“It finally happened!” Luke grinned, high fiving you, “I owe you 20 bucks Y/N.”

“You guys bet on me losing?!”

“It had to happen sometime Spencer,” you said.

“Come on, it’s my turn to beat the doc,” Luke said, reaching for the cards to shuffle again.

“Okay one more hand and I gotta go. I promised Garcia I’d be home before it got too late. Hopefully the boys aren’t driving her crazy,” JJ said reaching for her new cards.

“Oh please, you know she loves them,” you grin.

You pick up your cards, pretending to sneak a peek at Luke’s cards.

“Hey, no peeping!” he laughed, trying to move them out of your sight, making you try to lean further over to see.

“I’m just trying to see if the Vice President of the Worst Poker Players club has a chance,” you smirked at him.

“You madam President are too nosy for your own good,” Luke grins.

“Can we just get on with the game?” Spencer retorted, his voice unnaturally harsh.

Your gaze shot to Spencer, shocked to hear the sharp tone in his voice. You very rarely ever saw him mad or even irritable for that matter.

“Uh, sure,” you said, going first, placing your bet.

A few minutes after everyone else placed their starting bets, Spencer challenges you, raising your bet, his glare fixed on you. You make yourself resist physically flinching. You have no idea why his mood had darkened so suddenly and only at you.

You glance at JJ to see if she’s noticed and she gives you a small shrug, just as baffled as you are. As your best friend, she of course knew about your feelings for him. She gives you a questioning look as if assessing if you’re okay. You give a quick nod and return to your cards, trying not to feel hurt. Tuning back into the game you notice Luke has folded, JJ soon follows. Before you know it, it’s just you against Spencer.

“Ah, teacher against student. The tension is real.” Luke drums his fingers against the table.

You set your hand down. It wasn’t the best, but you were hoping somehow Spencer would have a worse hand. No such luck. Once again, your jaw drops when you see his own straight flush spread out in front of him.

“Damnit,” you mumble.

“You’re never gonna beat me Y/N. I’d stop trying if I were you.”

This time you did flinch. Your brows furrow, irritated, both at him and the fact you can’t beat him.

“Hey, I did,” JJ pointed out as she stood to pull on her jacket, “I gotta run guys.”

“Yeah, me too,” Luke says, standing up and stretching, “Spence? Y/N?”

“No, I think I’m gonna stay a bit longer. I’m determined to beat him.”

“Good luck,” Luke said heading to the door.

See you guys Monday and hopefully not sooner!” He calls as he walks out of the room.

“Tell me how it turns out,” JJ says, giving you a look only another woman could decipher, clearing meaning she meant more than just the game.

After giving both of you hugs and saying goodbye once again, you and Spencer are settled back at the round table, ready for another game.

“Sure you’re up to this?” he smirked, looking you up and down.

“Yes.” Your tone is clipped, determined, “I was taught well you know.”

“It’s going to get boring winning hand after hand you know.”

“Fine. Then let’s make it interesting why don’t we?”

“I’m listening.” He sits back, clasping his hands behind his head, watching you.

“Strip poker. You know the rules. Losing hand removes an article of clothing.”

“You’re on.”

Half an hour later you’re sitting next to a pile of your belongings. Deciding to count accessories since you had on a lot less layers than he did, you had managed to already have removed your hair clip, watch, necklace and shoes. Spencer had only lost his watch. At least that was a small victory, your one win.

“One win out of five games. I’d say I’m impressed, but that’s a measly 5% of your wins in our total of games so far.” 

Your eyes blazed and you glared at him.

“What’s your problem?”

He looked up at you, clearly taken aback. You stifle a snort, annoyed at the fact that he had the audacity to look surprised.

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you mad at me?”

“I’m not.” You look up from your cards to say something else, but he goes back to the game before you can ask any further questions.

“Damn,” he mutters, putting down his hand of random assorted cards.

Your face lights up and you slam down your three of a kind.

“Pay up. Something comes off.”

He shakes his head, pulling his tie off. Unfortunately for you, the next game isn’t in your favor and your shirt comes off, leaving you in just your bra and pants. You look up and deal to begin the next game, noticing his eyes suddenly are intensely focused on the tabletop.

You lay your head in your hand as you look at your cards before reaching from one for the deck, not noticing how the movement makes your breasts even more visible to him. What you do notice though is his slight shift in stance. 

“So uh, you and Alvez huh?”

Now it was your turn to look startled.

“What about me and Luke?”

“I don’t- I just- I mean,” he cleared his throat trying to stop his stammering, “You guys just seem really friendly all of a sudden.”

“Yeah, we get along great. He’s a good friend.”

“Oh, I see.”

Suddenly it clicked.

“Why? Are you jealous?”

He doesn’t answer, just drops his hand on the table, the cards splayed out.

“Well, shit.”

“Another four of a kind.”

You sigh, standing up, unbuttoning your pants. 

“This isn’t fair, you know,” you say, unzipping them.

You look over at him when you realize he hasn’t answered you and find his eyes on you, his tongue moving over his lips. Your stomach tightened, a sight you would never get over seeing. He did that single motion more times during a single case alone, than you could count.

You dropped your pants on the pile of your belongings, not exactly caring where it landed or the fact that you just happened to be half naked. It was like a magnetic force pulling you closer towards him. You drag your hand across the table as you approach him, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip. His eyes don’t leave you as you approach him, the game long forgotten.

“You were jealous. Weren’t you?” Your voice is barely a whisper as if you’re afraid that if you spoke the words too loud they wouldn’t be true.

Smoother than you thought he could be, he’d reached out for you and pulled you into his lap.

“Yes.” 

Next thing you knew his hands are in your hair and his lips are on yours and you’re kissing him back with such intensity that you had to pull away after a moment, just to get air back to your lungs and clarity to your mind.

“But I thought you-” 

“Liked JJ?”

“I, uh-” you momentarily blank on what you were saying as his hand moves up your arm and pulls one bra strap down, slowly.

“Yeah,” you finish.

“I did.” His lips met your shoulder, kissing it, “Until the day you walked through those doors.”

You felt your jaw slacken a bit as his lips traveled up your neck, stopping every few moments to suck on one spot or another. The realization had dawned on you that that specific event was more than six years ago.

“Oh,” you breathed, both in response to his confession and his gentle suckling.

His hands reached behind you and unfastened your bra in one swift movement.

“Why Dr. Reid aren’t you suave?”

He groaned, low in his throat. Whether it was because of the sight of your bare breasts or you calling him doctor, you weren’t sure. Your arousal was obvious, your nipples already pinched.

You lifted your head to kiss him again, loving the way his scruff was slightly scratchy against your face and the feeling of his lips moving simultaneously with yours.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been kissing when you felt his hands glide up your thighs, fingers brushing against the side of your underwear. Just the feeling of him touching you through the thin fabric of your underwear was enough to make you shiver. Your lips were traveling along his jaw when you felt him lift you. 

“What are you-”

He placed you on the table as easily as he could before pulling your last article of clothing off. His arms hooked under your thighs, lifting you up and pulling you to the edge of the table, sending the deck of cards flying.

“Oh my god,” you moaned, feeling his mouth on you. Never in a million years would you have imagined his mouth to be this impactful.

You couldn’t see his expression, but somehow you knew Spencer was smirking. His tongue moved agonizingly slow over your slit, just barely brushing your clit.

“Spencer for God’s sake,” you whined already feeling tension building throughout every inch of your body, his touch sending your entire being into overload.

Your head fell backwards when his tongue flicked your clit repeatedly before flattening his tongue against it. Your breathing was heavy as you managed to sit up on your elbows, looking down at him. The sight of Dr. Spencer Reid, the resident genius, with his head between your legs, doing magical things with his mouth was almost enough to send you spiralling out of control. 

When you felt his touch completely disappear you opened your mouth to protest until you felt his fingers on you again. One finger slid in as he watched your expression, his eyes squinted again, his tongue moistening his lips.

“I swear to God if you don’t stop licking your lips I’m gonna cum right this second,” you practically growled at him.

His only response was a chuckle before he added a second finger to the mix and his mouth was back on you again. His tongue moved against you before finally sucking on your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Oh fuck, oh yes. Speeeence,” you moaned, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

You couldn’t tell if it was just your thighs or your entire body that was shaking, but you were pretty sure it was both at this rate. You gripped the edge of the table hard, the mound of tension in the pit of your stomach unraveling faster and faster.

“Please don’t stop,” you begged breathlessly, desperate for the sweet release that was so close you could almost reach.

Like a balloon bursting after being filled with too much air, your body feels the same as your orgasm coursed through it, rendering you breathless mid-moan.

You’re pretty sure you hadn’t cursed as much as you did in the seconds following.

“Holy shit Spencer,” you groaned, trying to gain some control in your body again.

He pulled you toward the edge of the table, helping you down so you were leaning against it. Your legs were shaking too much to be able to stand on your own anyway. His hand cupped your face as he kissed you again, this time a lot softer than the previous kisses you’d shared. It was then when you had an idea.

“Sit back.” You took his hand off your face, lightly pushing his shoulders for him to sit back in the chair.

“Why?” 

“Just do it.” You kissed the base of his throat, fingers fumbling over the buttons of his shirt.

With each button released, your lips moved lower over his skin.

Finally getting the gist of your movements, his hand caught your wrist when your fingers reached the waist of his pants.

“You don’t have to.”

“I know. But I’m a lady and I always return a good deed,” you grinned slyly.

He bit his lip as if trying to assess your face just to be sure.

“I want to.”

He released his grip and you continued your task, wasting no time until he was in his boxers. Your lips moved in line above his waistband your palm pressing against the noticeable bulge.

A grunt came above you encouraging you. You pulled the fabric enough out of the way, your hand wrapping around his cock. He inhaled sharply, watching you intently. Your hand moved slowly back and forth making him suffer just as much as he did to you.

“Y/N I think I’m wound up enough. Cut out the fucking teasing,” came through gritted teeth.

“My apologies, Doctor.” 

You flashed a quick smirk up at him then leaned down, tongue swirling around his head. His hips jerked slightly when you took him in your mouth, your tongue swirling before settling on sucking.

“Fuck!” Spencer groaned loudly.

You peeked upwards to see his head fall back and his eyes close. You couldn’t help but feel the satisfaction at knowing you’re the one causing him to react like this.

You feel his hand in your hair, his grip tightening the longer you’re on your knees.

“After listening to you Y/N, I’m not gonna last long,” he groans as you hum your response.

Using one hand to pump him, you suck on his head long enough for him to give you the warning of his impending release. Seconds later it hit him, hot liquid filling your mouth. You sat back swallowing like a champ and wiping your mouth. You looked up at the wrecked Dr. Reid, panting above you. It was a good look on him.

“Did you let me win?” 

“What?”

“Earlier. During the game; that last hand I won. Did you let me win?” You asked as you grabbed your own clothes, both of you trying to look presentable again.

“Y/N, you can win all the poker games you want as long as we can do that again.”

“You got a deal.”

“There’s only one problem now,” he groaned.

“You mean besides the deck of cards scattered on the floor?”

“Yes. Cause now when we have a new case I’m going to have to resist the urge to imagine bending you over this table.”

You swallowed hard, the image in your mind doing things to you as well. You looked him in the eye before responding, earnestly.

“Guess that’s gonna have to wait until the next poker game.”