#he looks like he actually gets to enjoy carbs now

[m00sebaby]

not to add a new sport to the mix but fabian cancellara has aged like the finest of wines how is bro real

[a-b-riddle]

Part 7

Can't stop thinking about how the 141 met reader

(she's a long one. not entirely happy with it either so may edit later)

No harm done yet.

You never saw Simon actually hurt anyone. Johnny and Kyle would share stories about poor recruits who fucked around and eventually found out that Simon had no issue beating them within an inch of their life.

You knew he had a reputation and, like the rest of them, had blood on his hands. But it never bothered you. Didn't make you think twice about loving him or seeing him as the protector he had always been to you. To be frank, you could never actually picture any of them being violent.

But his voice... Fuck. His voice. It fucking rattled you. You actually feared for those fucking idiots now. Sure, they deserved to have their asses kicked, but an ass-kicking was probably going to be a welcomed after thought to whatever Simon would do.

You rinsed off, not bothering to wash your hair, but needing to wash up before getting in the bed. Hoping the scalding hot water washed away the uneasiness on your skin that had began to settle into your bones.

Even feeling fresh and laying in clean sheets, you still found yourself tossing and turning wondering exactly what did Simon do?

Did he walk away? Realizing you weren't worth the trouble, did he just tell them to knock it off?

You had stupidly expected Simon to check in. To check if you made it home alright or at least to let you know he was okay. So you waited... And you waited. You had half a mind to call him yourself before remembering it wasn't your place anymore to care. You had cared enough for the five of you.

It was well past two in the morning before you finally called it a night.

The next morning, still nothing from Mr. Riley. Not a 'did you home alright?' or 'are you okay?' text. Nada. Zilch.

Whatever.

Fuck him.

You had to open up shop, but luckily your Saturday mornings were much more relaxed. The shop wouldn't be open until 10, so you had the time to sleep in and enjoy the morning.

By noon, Mere had sent you several texts reminding you that you had promised to go out. You had tried to dissuade her. The encounter with those men last night had brought back sour memories. One involving handsome men coming to your rescue when it was most certainly needed.

You had tried to bail. Giving her any excuse you could: Last night put you on edge. You no longer wanted to go out. After last weekend, you just needed some down time.

Eventually you had realized she was not taking no for an answer after she had shown up to your apartment, already ready for a night out.

"You're not wearing that, are you?" Mere asked. Mere was in her usual Saturday femme-fatal attire. The black leather pants that accentuated her curves and red corset paired well with her freshly box dyed color black hair.

She looked more like a dominatrix than someone who worked at an attorney's office. Even if both professions included bending someone over and fucking them for all their worth. You wondered who would charge more by the hour....

You had pulled out a off white lace square neck top and a pair of high waisted medium washed baggy jeans. A perfectly cute outfit for a night out. Which was your defense when she had suggested you needed to change.

Tab had arrived later than expected (something about a system being down at work), but made up for it by bringing a pre-game snack. Yes, you had officially reached the age where you no longer starved yourself hours before going out to get more drunk quicker and cheaper. No you had to eat carbs or else you wouldn't be able to leave your room the next day as you pathetically nurse a hangover.

Tab wore a denim skirt. If you could even call it that. It paired well with the white tank top that you could make out the shape of her nipple piercing.

But they looked hot. Really hot.

"This is a perfectly acceptable outfit."

"For a day at market, not for trying to get laid."

"I don't want to get laid." You said, rummaging through your closet, yet again. "Getting laid is what got me in this mess in the first place."

A little over two years ago

"Fuck him." Tabitha wrapped her arms around your shaking body as you continued to sob. "He was a prick who didn't fucking deserve you."

"He couldn't even get you to cum." Mere felt the need to remind you as if that would somehow lessen the blow of your heartbreaking into a million shards. The shrapnel feeling like it would kill you.

"I loved him," your voice is small. "I fucking loved him." You had been dating for almost three years. You had his grandmother's ring on your fucking hand for God's sake. "I'm so stupid."

"You are not stupid." Tabitha gave you a squeeze. "He was a liar and a fucking coward." Meredith rubbed her thumb on you bare leg, offering physical reassure. Letting you know even if she wasn't the hugger Tabs was, she was still here.

"You can't keep locked up in this apartment." She was unfortunately right. You had not only barricaded yourself in your apartment for two weeks, but you hadn't returned to your bedroom. The scene of the crime. "You need to get out."

"Yeah," Tabitha rubbed your arm as if trying to coax you out your metaphorical shell. "Get some fresh air. We can go grab a treat. Maybe go out for some coffee." It didn't surprise you that Tabitha was offering a treat to entice you to leaving your sanctuary.

"I was thinking going to a bar." It also didn't surprise you that Mere offered her way of coping. Getting so drunk that you forgot what you even sad about. Or going out and finding someone to fuck the sadness out of her.

"Because getting alcohol in her system in this state is just what she needs." Tabitha was the mom of the group whereas Mere was the fun drunk aunt. They balanced one another out.

"Actually," you said, giving a pathetic sniffle. "Going out would be nice." Getting away from the apartment is what you need. And going out would be the excuse you would need to get yourself all dolled up.

What you hadn't planned for was getting so pissed that you had manage to breakaway from your friends. Searching for them in teh crowd of people. Failing and when you pulled out your phone were met with a completely black screen.

Dead. Perfect.

The same moment you swore the night couldn't get any worse, it did.

He looked the same. Same as he been four months ago when he asked you to become his wife. Same as he had been two weeks ago when you had caught him fucking another girl. The girl he told you not to worry about. The girl he insisted was just one of the guys. A girl you had told him time and time again would fuck him the moment she had the chance.

It wasn't always great to be right.

When your eyes connected, your body had went into immediate flight mode. Every neuron in your body was shooting out signals of RUN RUN RUN RUN RUN. So that's exactly what you did.

You fucking bolted.

Or felt like you bolted. But you could only scurry so fast in chunky heels while simultaneously pulling down your skirt that had decided to ride up. Aching to show your ass for all of London to see.

You had made it a quarter of the way back to your apartment. Your feet aching. Toes pinched together from the strap digging into them.

"Baby, please!" You heard him before you felt his arm clamp down on your shoulder. Hard. When did his touch become something heavy? Something that practically burned you.

You turned. Eyes brimming with unshed tears as you hissed at him to leave you the fuck alone. The begging came, but you turned around. Determined to go home. He didn't deserve the chance to explain himself and he could most certainly shove his apology up his ass.

He wouldn't shut up. Insisting it was a mistake. A one time thing her fault. How she seduced him. As if he were the victim in all of this. You weren't buying it. Not for one moment. One doesn't accidentally invite some slut over and fall balls deep into her while they are in the same bed he shares with his fiancée.

It wasn't until you were in a more dimly lit area that he had gotten the nerve to grab you. His grip was firm on your arms as he held you in place. "Listen to me!" His voice was panicked.

The feeling of anger slowly began to dim as something else began to rise.

Fear.

You were afraid.

You were in a part of town not many people were out and about in at this time of night. No bystanders to really take note of the scene, or at least not any caring enough to stand by and watch; even for entertainment.

Your friends didn't know where you were at and you were tipsy. And alone.

"Cardan," you swallowed, trying to steady your voice. "Please let me go."

"Not until you talk to me," his fingers dug into you. "We can work this out, okay? It was one mistake." He tried to argue, his voice rising, soaked in desperation. "What's one mistake compared to three years?"

"Cardan," you tried to pull away, his grip only tightening. "You're hurting me." It came out as a pathetic whimper. You were so close to crying, too afraid to scream.

"Hey!" A voice barked from behind you. It caused your whole body to stiffen."Get your fucking hands off her. Someone noticed. Someone was here. Someone was here. Someone was here.

"We are having a conversation." Cardan's eyes left you, looking at whoever stood behind you.

"The lass said to leave her be." Another voice. Someone else. Two (three if you counted yourself, but in that moment you couldn't) people against one. There was no a possibility of you getting the fuck out of this situation.

Cardan stood firm. His eyes looking past you. A silent refusal to back down.

"Either you let her go," another voice. Another accent different that the first two. "Or we fucking make you."

"One against four. Odds aren't in your favor, mate." Four. Four men stood behind you. Faceless strangers there to help you.

"This doesn't concern you." Cardan bit out.

"Aye," Scottish. The second guy was definitely Scottish. "I think it does if she's tellin' ye' to piss off and yer bein' a bawbag about it."

"So what'll it be?" The third voice, deep and threatening, yet still so... calming. As if the vibrations from his deep, rich pitch washed over you.

Cardan looked back at you, his eyes not as manic. He realized he didn't have a chance. This was a fight he had to walk away from or else he wouldn't be walking away from it at all. "I'll swing by tomorrow, okay?" He asked.

You couldn't do anything, but nod. Agree that you could talk tomorrow in the safety of the sunlight. Eventually he walked across the street before fading out into the night. Blending in with the shadows.

You turned around to meet your would-be saviors.

Four men. All slightly older than you and so handsome you felt foolish for gawking at them as if this were your first time seeing a man. Hell, maybe it was. At least specimens like this. All of them tall and broad. Towering over you.

No wonder Cardan got the fuck out of there. Tabs was right. He was a coward.

"You alright?" The one who first spoke up asked. You could place his voice. Now just needed to place the other three. He had a hearty mustache and mutton chops. A look on any one else would make you immediately get the ick. But for a moment you wondered if that mustache would tickle... "Do you need us to call anyone?"

You felt your cheeks flush with heat.

"I just want to go home." You said. "Thank you for stepping in. I don't know what would have-" You stopped. Too afraid to think about the possibilities. There was a time you would never believe that Cardan had the ability to hurt you.

There was also a time you believed he would never cheat. You weren't really sure what to believe anymore. "Anyway," you continued. "Thank you again." You turned on your heel before continuing your stride.

You had only made it several feet before you were stopped again. "Which way? One of us can walk you home." You weren't entirely sure. But with a dead cellphone and a unhinged ex probably lurking in the shadows, there was little time to weigh the pros and cons before giving them a general direction of where you lived.

Which just so happened to be the direction in which two of the four lived. The Scot and one of the two who had yet to speak. The first one, who had still yet to introduce himself instructed the two of them to drop you off and let him know you had made it home alright.

You had hoped that the rest of your night would be met with silence, but the Scot couldn't seem to help himself. "I'm Johnny." He introduced. "And the spooky, silent type is Simon." He gave a playful wink. You gave him your name, not wanting to be rude.

"Not my place to ask," he began. "But what was the deal with that fucker? Ex-boyfriend?"

"Johnny." Simon's tone held warning. You appreciated the defense, but frankly didn't care. These were strangers. Who cared what they thought.

"Ex-fiancée," you clarified. "One who decided to fuck another girl in my bed. Not even our bed. My bed."

"Jesus fucking Christ," the Scot swore. "I was right. He was a fucking bawbag." For whatever reason, that made you laugh. For the first time in two weeks you fucking laughed. And it felt like you were breathing again.

Simon was quiet, not contributing to the conversation and just letting Johnny babble. Talking your ear off in a short trek as if it were an olympic sport.

You were so distracted with his voice you hadn't realized how far you had made it until the sound of your keys clattering onto your kitchen counter brought you back.

Back to a situation you didn't know how the fuck you landed in.

Two men (who you don't know) are in your apartment. Your friends don't know where you are. You are a little bit too inebriated to plan and exit strategy. Doesn't exactly help your confidence in fighting them off since they are built like fucking brick houses.

"He won't come sniffin' around here botherin' ya, will he?" Simon asks, speaking for only the second time since he had threatened Cardan. You shake your head.

"No," you said. "I have him blocked on everything. So I think when he saw me tonight it was just kind of an opportunity, I suppose?" You offer. Cardan had showed up to your place one time with a random assortment of flowers and a useless apology you had to hear through the door as you covered your mouth. Concealing your cries. Too afraid to let him know you were there.

Too afraid that some part of you would be weak enough to take him back.

"We'll leave ye' be." Johnny said, nodding his head toward the door. "But if he comes bein' a shite to ye again, you can give us a call."

"Phones dead." You explain, holding up your phone as if you needed to prove yourself. Johnny offered the brilliant, yet simple solution of giving him your number. He sent off a text, knowing it would be there when you turned back on and promising to check in later.

They both gave subtle nods of goodbye before turning away.

And just like that, they left. The door clicking softly shut behind them. You stood, frozen for several beats before walking over and locking the door.

You plugged your phone into the charging cable, waiting until it lit back to life before shooting off a text in your group chat with Tab and Mere.

Sorry I took off. Ran into Cardan and fucking made a dash for it. Sorry if I worried you. I'm at home. I'm okay. Grab lunch tomorrow and we can talk about it? My treat?

You signed off the text with a heart emoji and turned your phone on do not disturb. Too afraid of your friends going all Mama Bear on you for running away while drunk. Even if your reasons were valid.

You had texted Johnny again. Not because Cardan dared to bother you again, but to thank him. Acknowledging that not many men would have done for you what he and his friend did. Johnny assured you it wasn't anything.

Before you knew it, the two of you were hanging out with Simon always tagging along. It took you a while to realize he did actually like you, but his stoic nature was just who he was. You had met Kyle and John, both as charming and respectful as Johnny and Simon.

John had been the first two mention wanting to take you on a date. It didn't go well with the other three. They all had the same intention and a rock, paper, scissors tournament seemed to juvenile to figure out who got the privilege in courting you. Eventually, they had decided to ask you.

Putting you on the spot to answer the question that had begun to tear them apart: which one of them will it be?

Johnny made you laugh. He was the first person you thought about calling when your day was a bit grey. He saw the positive in everything and was the one who made you feel like even the bad days weren't so terrible.

Then there was Simon. The one who you felt like was your safe place in body and mind. You would babble all day talking to him, thankful when he would let you rant. Your mind was able to go on auto-pilot in terms of safety because you knew Simon would handle it. He also gave the best hugs.

John was the one who instilled the confidence in you that you needed. Your bookstore, your writing, whatever aspirations you had, no matter how wild, John would support it. Nothing was too big. After you all started dating, he was the first person you ever let read your book. He gave you praise as well as critique, pointing out multiple plot holes and helping you craft it better. And never once taking credit for it, even when it was due.

Kyle was the most thoughtful one. He was the one who knew you liked trying knew things so he made an effort to always make date nights interesting. A new restaurant, a new activity or experience. He was the biggest giver of the group.

So when they did ask you, you answered honestly.

"I can't choose." They insisted that you didn't need to spare their feelings, but you stood firm in your decision. "No. I can't choose. I'm interested in all of you." When they pressed on why the fuck you didn't say anything earlier, you told them to avoid this kind of situation. Where you had to choose. You were fine continuing on as just friends if that meant you got to keep all of them.

Mere and Tabs were great friends, but they are the ones who helped pull you out of the slump. The ones who made you feel lovable. The ones who made you feel like a woman again.

"Helloooooo." Mere's hand waved in your face while another held something she had found in your closet. "So are you going to change or not?" Your eyes darted to the skimpy glittery black dress. The same one for your first date with them. Your stomach twisted as you took the sparkly dark fabric in your hand.

You nodded as if trying to shake the memory out of your mind. "I'll change and we can go." Better just to get it over with.

The place that Mere had dragged you to was a club that played music that you would only listen to while encapsulated in the aroma of cheap liquor and sweat. Your outfit form-fitting. The material too stiff to be comfortable, but it was cute. The hem of your dress coming to rest just below your ass cheeks. Hugging your body in a way that made you feel self conscious the moment you stepped out of your building.

Mere had run into some work colleagues. Names you couldn't and wouldn't remember. There had been a high profile divorce going on. Very messy. She had been so encapsulated by the gossip that she hadn't notice you and Tabitha had slipped off toward the bar.

Tabitha insisted on shots and you needed something to get your mind off the less than exciting night. Your expectations weren't high, but fuck. You would have been much more comfortable wearing the jeans. You felt like a piece of fucking meat. It would have been so bad if someone were gonna buy you a dr-

"This seat taken?" It was a cliche introduction attached to a slightly better than average face. Decent enough where it didn't hurt to look at him, but not attractive enough to be a seat.

"By all means," you said turning back to Tabitha who looked at the guy now sitting to your left and raising her eyebrows. Fucking hell. Not her too.

"It's pretty packed tonight." He commented, attempted to make small talk. You hated small talk. At least unless it came to Johnny who would get into discussion on politics, religion and why on the side was the best way to fuck because it gave him 'a perfect view of the front and back of ye.'

"You come here often?" You asked, not wanting to be a total bitch, but having absolutely zero desire to be entertaining him.

"When I can." He said. "I prefer the Artifact a couple of blocks down. Not many people heard of it. A bit of a hole-in-the-wall place." Oh cool. A fucking hipster who liked to act superior at knowing a place that is underground. You could feel any possibility of getting your pussy wet, dry at the thought of this man actually wanting to come onto you.

Jesus, when did you become so harsh.

I blame Simon.

"Oh," you say, no longer interested in entertaining the conversation. "Sounds lovely. My friend and I just came out for a bit of girl-" you turn to look at Tabitha who had somehow miraculously disappeared in the 45 fucking seconds that your back was turned....

Little bitch.

"Bathroom, I suppose." He laughed. It was the sincerity in his voice that irked you. God, why was he pissing you off just trying to start a conversation?

"I suppose." You gave a soft smile back, turning once the bartender had come over to grab your order. Which the stranger next to you had insisted buying. Nothing quite as arousing as obligated conversation.

"There's no need for that-"

"Percival." He introduced. "But my friends call me Percy." Your immediate thought was who the fuck names there kid Percival. The second was to offer him a fake name. Real enough to be believable, but fake enough where if he tried to search you up on any social media, you could just deny having any.

"I hate to be brash," he started. Then don't. "But I can't imagine a girl like you being single."

"Not really looking for anything romantic at the moment." You say, the first time you've been truthful this entire conversation. Percival leaned in closer, before asking in a low voice that he was doubt trying to convey as sexy, "Are you sure?"

And there it was. The final ick that nailed the coffin shut.

You offered in a soft smile before swallowing hard. "Percival,"

"My friends call me-"

"I'm going to be frank." Your voice is soft, as if explaining to a small child why we don't always get the things we want. "I just got of a very long and deep and meaningful relationship and the idea of being near another man in any intimate or emotional capacity wants me to cause very serious bodily harm to said man."

His expression fell.

"I appreciate your confidence in coming over here and making small talk, but if you're wanting to fuck me or even attempt to be friends, I must inform you that is no only not in the cards, but not in your best interest." You turned, downing the rest of your cocktail.

"Time for a trip to the bathroom myself, I suppose." You stood from your seat, having to readjust your dress.. "Have a good night."

You were washing your hands when a red-faced Mere walked into the bathroom. Tabitha on her heels with a concerned expression.

"What did you do?" Mere asked.

"What are you talking about?" You asked. You had half a mind to ask them why the fuck they pulled a disappearing act after insisting you go out.

"You told Percy you would castrate him?" You looked as if you had been slapped. The pieces falling into place to reveal a totally fucked up puzzle.

"You fucking tried to set me up." You seethed, a finger pointing accusingly.

"Well, fuck, what did you expect me to do?" She asked. "You were sulking."

"Listen to me!" You cried. "I want you to listen to me. I was with them for two years. It hasn't even been two weeks and you're going behind my fucking back and trying to set me up with fucking Percival? How the fuck do you even know him? Do you even know him?" She ignored your last question. How convenient.

"I thought it would be good to get it out of your system." She tried to defend, her pissyness now matching yours. "You always do this. I was just trying to help."

"What do you mean 'I always do this'?" Your eyes turned into slits.

"Why don't we just calm down and-" Tabitha tried to stop the escalation. Mere, very obviously, ignored that cue.

"You get so hung up on a guy, or in this case guys, it takes you fucking weeks to recover." You stare at her. Unsure if she was really comprehending the bullshit that had come out of her mouth.

"I'm certain you aren't trying to make me feel bad for grieving a relationship that I was in for over three years to a man I was engaged to. To find him fucking in my apartment, in my bed the same week I was going to get my wedding dress."

"It's not just Cardan," she went on. "Issac in our second year of school?" You gave a humorless chuckle.

"Oh yes," you said condescendingly, "the boy I had dated from 14-years old- until I was 19. The boy I gave my virginity two months before he told me he was not only not interested in me, but women in general." As if that somehow lessened the blow. "Absolutely shouldn't have bothered me a bit."

"You only went out for classes and food for two months!" She said as if you had hit a pedestrian with your car. As if you were a fool for being so distracted by a breakup you couldn't be bothered to carry on with life as normal.

"I'm sorry that I actually take the time to grieve my relationships." You said. "I forgot that it may be hard for either of you to comprehend what a relationship is like considering the only relationship either of you have is with your work or with each of us."

"Hey!" Tabitha said. "I understand your pissed, but there isn't need to attack us like this."

"Attack you?" You asked. "Attack you? This isn't me attacking you. This is me responding to an uncomfortable situation that you put me in. I told you I didn't want to even think about me. I didn't want to fuck someone else and you go and do this?"

"He seems like a decent guy." You roll your eyes.

"Probably why he's not your type, right?" Mere crossed her arms over chest. Eyebrow arched as if she were hoping the words enticed you to realize that you had a history of going after the wrong guys.

Unfortunately, it did not.

You sucked on your teeth, carefully choosing your words before World War III broke out in a nearly vacant bathroom in South London. You took a deep breath. Calming yourself as best as you could.

Before saying fuck it and letting it loose.

"Just because your idea of coping is getting drunk and fucking someone you plan on never speaking to again, quite literally discarding them like trash, doesn't mean the rest of us cope the same way." You hoped it hurt. You hope it stung the same way she had tried to sting you.

You had hoped that your word would be the final blow before both sides called a treaty.

"You mean like they did you?"

And just like that, you heart stuttered. A rapid dum dum dum in your chest as it had been tripped up by her words. The truth in them heavy. The shift in the air was almost immediate;.

"Sweetheart-" Tabitha had tried to reach out before you jerked away.

"Enjoy your night." You said, grabbing your purse where you had left it by the sink. "I'm going to go home and wallow in my self pity." You exited the bathroom, hearing your named called again before shifting it into gear and getting the fuck out of there.

Weaving through the sea of bodies like water flowing around rocks.

Who the fuck cares if you want to cry? To grieve? To be angry? To get closure? To move on? Who cares if you don't want to be the girl who gets her heart shattered and not fuck somone else? Who wants to feel the comfort of a familiar body, a touch that feels safe one last time before you go back into a world where you will only be touched by a stranger?

It didn't matter that you were the one to breakup with them, even if the relationship was broken. It's foundation cracked.

What did matter is that the people who should have supported you and in the way you were dealing with your loss in your own way, didn't. And that's the part that they seem to forget. It is a loss. It's mourning someone who hasn't died. Someone who is still living, yet still no longer there.

"Off already?" Percy cut in the way, blocking your escape. You weren't in the mood.

"Listen-" you started before he cut you off.

"Not anything romantic, I know," he raised his hands as if in defense, "but maybe like another drink or a dance?"

You closed your eyes, wanting to hold off starting a scene and tearing him a new asshole. "Like I said, not. interested." How much clearer could you spell it out?

"Come on." He said, his hand coming to rest on your hip. The grip on it weak. You were by no means the type of woman that could take on a man like the ones you still held in a chamber of your heart. But you could most certainly handle your own against Percival. "I'm asking for a dance. After what Meredith told me, I figured you'd be down for at a little more than that."

"I don't follow." Your blood ran cold. Your heart praying that any assumptions that were running through your mind were wrong, they were wrong.

"She mentioned you having a group of like guys you fucked, but stopped fucking." He shrugged, offering a coy smile that you ached to wipe off with the back of your hand. "I don't judge. It's kind of hot honest. Did they run train or-" You felt it then. His hand had traveled from your hip to the curve of your ass.

And you froze. You froze like a coward. Too afraid to speak or scream. Too ashamed to push him away, cause a scene.

But you didn't need to do any of that.

In an instant, Percy's hand was off of you. It took you a moment to realize that a figure dressed in black stood beside you. Your own personal grim reaper.

"Put him go!" You pleaded, breaking out of your trance. You took hold of his arm putting all of your body weight on his arm, trying to break his hold. He didn't falter.

You could handle you own against Percy.

But Simon could fucking kill him without breaking a sweat.

You looked at Simon's face. His eyes were darkened. The soft brown you had once loved staring into were now almost black. You could even make out the dark circles, even in the unsettling flickering of strobe lights in the club.

"You touch her again and I'll slit your fucking throat. Understood?" Pure venom fell from Simon's lips, but you knew he wasn't lying. Simon was the type of man who didn't say something he didn't mean.

You knew that all too well.

Percy choked out an ineligible, gurgled response as Simon's hand held firm on his throat. "He understands, goddammit, no let him down!" You ordered hitting at him as if it would stop him. "Simon, please!"

It was only when you said his name, did Simon loosen his grip. Letting Percy drop to a heap on the floor before he started a having a coughing fit, trying to suck in as much air as he could.

Simon looked down at you and the exit before scooping you up and hauling you over his shoulder like a sack of flower.

You wanted to die. You wanted to crawl in a hole and die and never show your face again.

"Get in the car." He at least had the decency to open the door for you. Simon wasn't a flashy man, by any means, but he was still a man. A men did love their cars.

He stood, waiting for you but you didn't move. You glared up at him. He had carried you out of there in the most humiliating way possible. You had to fight against the hemline of your dress or else everyone would have gotten an eyeful.

Hand still on the door, he leaned down, getting closer and closer to your height. "You get your ass in this car right now," his breath warm against your ear. "Or I'll have you over my fuckin' knee." His tone was sharp. It wasn't seduction in form of a threat. It wasn't even a threat.

It was a promise.

"We're over." You reminded.

"Do you think that'll fuckin' stop me from spankin' some sense into your bratty ass?"

"It doesn't give you the right to fucking do that to people, Simon!" You huffed. "You could have killed in."

"Could have," he agreed. "But didn't. You're welcome." he nodded toward the car. "Now, in you go or I'll do it here. You already know I don't mind an audience."

The heated seats were a bit to warm for your liking against your bare ass. The tension in the air was uncomfortable. Your hands ached to touch the radio. Anything to stop the silence between the two of you.

"I got home fine the other night by the way." You said, looking out the window, hoping to make him feel like shit for not checking in like he should have.

"I know you did."

"What do you mean you know I did?" You asked, turning to look at him. He shrugged as if it wasn't anything out of the ordinary, not stopping.

"Just did." Was his only answer.

"Are you fucking stalking me, Riley?" That made him laugh. You would have felt better if there was at least a sense of humor in it, but, instead, only disbelief.

"Oh, Riley now, is it?" He asked.

"You're not my body guard, Simon." You snapped.

"Not trying to be," he said. "I was never trying to be." You caught it. A very small slip, but it was something... something you couldn't place.

"Then why?" You ask, your tone softening. "For someone who makes it very apparent to be done with me, you sure do show up at convenient times. Hard not to think your keeping tabs on me."

He didn't say anything. No explanation or excuse. Not evena smart ass comeback or remark.

His hands reached forward and turned on the radio, turning the volume just loud enough that if you were to try and continue the conversation, your words would be drowned out.

He pulled up in front of your building, yet you made no move to get out. You turned off the radio, soaking in the silence once more. You wanted to know why? Why was he appearing out of nowhere like a fucking ghost? Why was he helping you?

He sighed before putting the car in park and stepping out. Coming around to your side he opened the door. "Get inside. Go to bed." There he was again. Fucking bossing you around as if he still had a say.

You wanted to cuss him out. To spew hateful words just as he did you.

But you didn't.

You were tired.

So fucking tired. And the idea of going to bed did sound pretty good in that moment. You made it to the door of your building before he spoke again. "And if you need to out at this time at night call a goddamn cab."

"Why?" You asked, turning around. "Getting tired of having to follow me around on foot, Si?"

There was a pregnant pause. Neither of you speaking. His body shifted forward, as if contemplating getting closer to you. As if the pull you once had was still there.

With his eyes trained on you, you felt a chill run down your spine. Twice you had seen that look on Simon's face before. The look that he had given the figures concealed in the shadows last night. The same look he had given Percy.

Only this time, it was directed at you.

One that personified the saying, 'if looks could kill.'

"Because," he growled out, "the next time I find someone else touching you that way, I'll fucking kill them."

[gurokiitty]

YAAAY Y’RE IN JJK ERA NOW AM I RIGHT?!?!?! !! 🎀

(can i request any staff with geto plz? (literally my #1 man ever 🙏🏿🙏🏿))

a/n : yesss i ammm and i LOVE geto too <3<3 i'm finished my exams and i actually couldn't stop thinking abt getting high w/ him!!! hope you enjoy, rosé :3

ROTTEN APPLE

{ stoner! suguru geto x f! reader }

word count : 3135

warnings/tags : mild DUBCON, college au, friends to lovers, drug use (marijuana), inexperienced reader, mild coercion, intoxicated/sloppy sex, cunnilingus, creampie.

Suguru has always been different—calm on the surface, languid like water that flows wherever it pleases. You, on the other hand, are all edges and discipline, tethered to your schedule and ambitions like a kite tied to an unyielding post.

But tonight, he’s managed to untether you.

“C'mon,” he says, his voice smooth and coaxing like honey. “You should just try it once." His dark hair spills over his shoulders, framing his face as he watches you with a lazy smile.

“Absolutely not—I am not doing drugs,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest, though the finality in your tone is already softening under the weight of his gaze. His voice is always disarming, his words too gentle to feel like pressure.

“Not drugs,” he adds with a playful shrug, “just… assisted relaxation.” The sleek glass bong gleams in his hand, an offering of escape. You’ve spent days hunched over textbooks, suffocating under the weight of equations and essays, and for once, you don’t have the energy to resist him.

“You trust me, don’t you?”

You nod, tentative but willing. His grin widens, and your resolve dissolves like sugar in warm tea.

He sets up the bong with ease, his long fingers moving deftly to pack the bowl. The weed smells sharp and earthy, its aroma curling into the air like incense. When he flicks the lighter, the small flame flares bright, illuminating his face for a heartbeat. He looks almost holy, a dark angel leaning close to guide you through some forbidden ritual.

“Okay,” he says, wrapping an arm around you, his broad chest warm against your side. “See this?” He taps the glass gently. “You’re gonna put your lips here, and when I light the bowl, just inhale slow and steady. When the chamber's full, let go of the carb and clear it. Easy.”

You follow his instructions clumsily, your fingers brushing his as you hold the cool glass. The flame crackles softly, and smoke swirls inside the chamber like a storm cloud, dense and white. You draw in slowly, and the hit punches sharp into your chest, leaving a bitter taste on your tongue. When you exhale, the smoke spills out in a trembling haze, fogging your glasses.

Suguru laughs, warm and unrestrained. “Cute,” he murmurs, reaching out to adjust the frames slipping down the bridge of your nose. “You’re a natural.”

“Hardly,” you mutter, blinking away tears from the roughness of the hit. He takes a turn, his movements fluid and sure, before passing the bong back to you. You take another hit and the world begins to soften at the edges. The air feels heavier, thicker, and your body starts to sink into the cushions, the tension in your shoulders unwinding like a thread pulled loose. The taste of smoke lingers on your tongue, sharp and strange but not unpleasant, and every inhale feels like stepping deeper into a dream.

Time stretches, slows. You aren’t sure how long you’ve been there, passing the bong back and forth, his laughter weaving into the fog around you. The warmth spreading through your limbs grows unbearable, like your blood has turned to molten honey. When you lean into him, your head resting against his chest, he doesn’t protest. His hand slides into your hair, stroking gently, and his voice drifts down to you like a lullaby.

“You okay?” he asks, soft but teasing. You nod sluggishly, your eyelids heavy and half-lidded. Everything feels distant, muted, except for him. The steady beat of his heart thrums against your ear, grounding you even as your mind spins.

“I feel... warm,” you mumble, the words slurring together.

His chest shakes with quiet laughter, his fingers trailing through your hair like silk. "Yeah?” he murmurs, brushing a strand away from your face. “You look warm.”

He tilts your face up with gentle fingers, his thumb brushing your cheek. The corners of his mouth quirk up, his expression softening as he watches you, so unguarded for once.

Your vision blurs, but you can still see the way his brown eyes glint, like polished stones catching firelight. They hold you there, spellbound and still, as if the world has slowed to a crawl around you.

“Your cheeks are all flushed,” he notes with a laugh, his thumb slipping to rest lightly on your lower lip. “You’re gorgeous like this.”

Your lips part instinctively, but no words come—only the thrum of your pulse in your ears and the heat curling low in your belly as his gaze lingers on your mouth.

Before you can think, his lips are on yours, soft and insistent, urging you to respond. Your thoughts scatter like ash in the wind, leaving only sensations—the warmth of his mouth, the faint sweetness of his breath, and the way his hands cradle your face as if you’re something fragile.

You melt into him, your body pliant under his touch as his tongue brushes against yours. Suguru's hands drift lower, slipping under your knitted sweater to trace the curve of your waist, his palms searing against your skin. You shiver, a soft whimper escaping your lips, and he swallows the sound with a smirk.

"You're sensitive," he says, his voice vibrating against your mouth as his fingers skim higher, ghosting over the underside of your ribs.

He pulls your sweater over your head, his movements slow as he drinks you in. The cool air hits your skin, but his lips are quick to find you again—kissing a path down your body from your collarbone, to the curve of your stomach. His hands follow the trail of his mouth, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

"Just relax, princess. I'll take care of you." He hums, his fingers tugging at the waistband of your pants.

You try to object, but the words tangle in your throat, coming out as a soft, incoherent hum. Suguru smiles, pressing his lips to your stomach.

Your body betrays you, hips tilting instinctively as he slides your pants down, the fabric pooling at your ankles.

You can't help but glance, taking a furtive peek at your own underwear. "Oh my," he murmurs, his eyes darkening as he takes in the sight of the lacy, lavender-coloured panties. "Did you wear these for me?"

You try to shake your head, to deny the question, but he chuckles softly, his hand brushing over the delicate fabric. “Liar,” he grins, the warmth of his palm seeping through the lace, making your stomach flutter.

Your breath hitches when he hooks a finger under the waistband of your panties and tugs them down agonizingly slowly. Lace glides over plump skin, dragging against your thighs as it’s peeled away, leaving you bare and trembling under his gaze. He leans closer, so close you can feel his breath ghosting against your cunt, and you instinctively try to squeeze your legs shut, but his hands are quick to still you.

“Fuck, you're already dripping,” he says softly, sending a flush to your cheeks. One of his hands slides between your thighs, his fingers dipping into your slick folds. His touch is unhurried as he gathers the fluid and lifts his hand to his mouth.

His tongue flicks, gliding over his fingers to taste you, and his lashes flutter as he lets out a soft, pleased hum. “Sweet,” he murmurs, his eyes locking onto yours with a predatory gleam. Embarrassment floods you and you try to look away, veiling your face behind trembling hands.

“Don't hide from me,” he murmurs, his tone almost chastising, though there’s a smile tucked in the corner of his mouth. "I want to see your pretty face as I eat you out."

"W-Wait, Sugu—" Your voice cracks as your hand reaches for his shoulder in feeble protest. He chuckles, his fingers sliding gently to entwine with yours. “I’ve got you. Just let me make you feel good.”

Your breath catches in your throat as he settles between your thighs, his hands firm on your hips to keep you from squirming away. Your mind feels foggy, your thoughts disjointed and swirling, but his presence anchors you, drawing all your focus to the way his head dips lower and his lips part so prettily.

When his tongue finally meets you, the sensation is molten. He starts slow—broad, languid strokes that glide through your wetness, his tongue curling at the end to lap up every bit of you. The warmth of his mouth engulfs you, wet and sloppy, and the obscene sounds of his ministrations make your face burn even hotter.

You’re vaguely aware of his hands, one gripping your thigh to hold you steady while the other shifts to spread you wider. You writhe beneath him, his name slipping from your lips in breathy whispers, but it feels distant, surreal—like a wet dream you’re floating through, too vivid to be real.

Your mind spins, thoughts shattering like fragile glass, each one broken by the next swipe of his tongue. His tongue flattens against your clit, pressing hard for a moment before he changes pace, teasing the sensitive bundle with quick, feather-light flicks that make your back arch off the couch.

“That's it,” he urges between strokes, his lips brushing your skin as he speaks. The words send a rush of heat straight to your core, and your thighs tremble beneath his unrelenting grip.

His pace shifts again, slower, sloppier, his tongue delving deeper as your fingers curl into the cushions. He presses his mouth against you harder, drinking in your reactions as you writhe, each mewl spilling from your lips sharper than the last. When he pulls back to catch his breath, his lids are heavy, his grin lazy and satisfied, like the euphoric haze after taking a deep hit. His lips glisten, his chin damp with your arousal, and the faint sheen catches the light, making you whimper.

“Keep your eyes on me, girl,” he commands, pulling you from the fog of your mind. His thumb slides up to rub gentle circles against your clit as he waits for you to meet his gaze. When you do, the hunger in his eyes threatens to swallow you whole.

“You taste like heaven,” he says, his tone softer now, almost worshipful as he lowers his mouth to you again. This time, his movements are more insistent—his tongue plunges into you, curling and twisting, coaxing every last tremor from your body while his thumb keeps up its relentless rhythm on your clit. You feel yourself falling apart, splintering at the seams, your body a quivering, pliant mess under his touch.

"Go ahead n' cum on my face, pretty girl," Suguru hums, grinding the pad of his thumb against your sensitive clit. You groan, your head falling back against the couch as your hips jerk involuntarily, chasing the release he’s dragging out of you. Your mind feels hazy, untethered, and your thoughts dissolve with each stroke of his tongue.

When it finally hits, it’s like a tidal wave, ripping through you with a force that leaves you gasping and shuddering. Your vision blurs, white-hot pleasure consuming every sense as your fingers twist into the fabric of the couch. He doesn’t stop, his tongue lapping at you greedily, prolonging the high until you’re babbling.

As you come down, your breath ragged and your limbs boneless, Suguru pulls back, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he crawls back up your body. He presses his mouth to yours in a sloppy, hungry kiss, the taste of your arousal still fresh on his tongue. Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as his tongue sweeps against yours, sharing the essence of your pleasure.

He finally pulls away, his forehead resting against yours as he catches his breath. "I've dreamed of this," he confesses, his voice low. His hand cradles your cheek as he studies your face, his thumb brushing tenderly over your swollen lips. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to taste you, to make you fall apart like that.”

Butterflies swarm in your stomach as he leans back on his heels, his hands sliding down to the waistband of his sweatpants. He shimmies them down, the fabric slipping over his hips to reveal the sharp cut of his V-line, trailing down to a dark patch of hair that disappears into the base of his length. His happy trail leads your eyes lower, framing the way his cock juts forward, thick and heavy, the tip already flushed and glistening. The sight makes your breath hitch, a nervous flutter mingling with the heady anticipation coiling in your chest.

“You ready?” he asks, his honeyed gaze locking with yours. You nod hesitantly, your head feeling heavy, your body languid and loose as if you could drift to sleep any second. The corner of his mouth twitches, an imperceptible softness flickering through his expression as he hooks your legs over his shoulders.

He presses a gentle kiss to the side of your knee before his grip on your thighs tightens. Slowly, he shifts forward, the head of his cock brushing against your slick entrance. The stretch begins almost immediately, the thick crown pressing into you with unrelenting pressure.

"I’ll go slow," he murmurs, his voice molten and soothing, like liquid gold pouring over your senses. His forehead brushes against your shin as he inches forward, his breath warm and uneven against your skin.

“F-Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groans, his words coming out shaky, barely audible over the soft hitch in his breathing. His hands slide up your thighs, gripping you like you’re something he can’t bear to let go of.

Your head tilts back, the high from before lingering, nullifying every painful sensation as his cock slips deeper. The room feels hazy, the air thick with heat, your skin tingling with hypersensitivity as your walls stretch and adjust to his size. “S-Suguru,” you gasp, your nails digging into the couch cushions.

“I know, I know, princess,” he soothes, his thumbs brushing slow, calming circles into the soft flesh of your thighs. “You’re taking me so well. God, you’re perfect like this.” His voice is velvet, reverent, and laced with something deeper—something that makes your heart flutter.

His movements grow steadier as he thrusts deeper, his pace still unhurried—but there’s a growing urgency in the way his hips press against yours, the way his hands tighten around you. You cling to him, your body trembling, the pleasure building slowly like waves lapping against the shore.

“I can feel you clenching around me,” he breathes, his tone laced with awe. His lips find your calf, trailing kisses down the length of your leg, each one searing and delicate. “Feels so good, baby. You feel so good.”

Your hands reach out, grasping for something—anything—to anchor you. “Suguru, please—” you start, your voice breaking into a sob. “I’ve got you,” he promises, his hands slipping to cradle your hips, pulling you closer as he shifts deeper, his movements becoming the slightest bit rougher.

He grinds his hips, dragging his length out until just the tip lingers, only to stuff it back in. His hands find your waist, thumbs pressing into the soft flesh, keeping you steady as his pelvis snaps forward with enough force to bury himself completely. The wet, obscene sound fills the room, and he groans deeply, his head dropping for a moment as his hair cascades over his face.

You mewl, thighs quivering against his shoulders as the sensation builds, raw and dizzying. His cock slides along your gummy walls, sinking deeper to nudge the spot inside that has your back arching off the couch. A sharp cry escapes your lips, your fingers clawing at the cushions as a familiar sensation blooms in your core. “S-Shit, right there,” you gasp, barely coherent, the word tumbling out in a broken plea.

Suguru’s dark eyes flicker up to yours, his grin widening as if he’s just uncovered the most precious secret. “Right here?” he teases, grinding his hips slowly, deliberately, the head of his cock dragging over that spot again and again. “You like that, don’t you?” His tone is soft, coaxing, but there’s a cocky edge to it that makes your cheeks burn.

“P-Please,” you stammer, the pressure building so rapidly it has your toes curling. He adjusts your legs over his shoulders, his grip tightening as his pace becomes measured, unrelenting, hitting that same devastating angle with every thrust.

The pressure builds so rapidly it has you babbling, eyes squeezed shut as your toes curl. He adjusts your legs over his shoulders, his grip tightening as his pace becomes measured, unrelenting, hitting that same devastating angle with every thrust. You can barely form a reply—your words caught somewhere between a cry and a moan.

“C'mon, baby,” he purrs, his voice melting into your skin. “I can feel you getting close. Let go for me—wanna feel you clamp around me as you cum.” His words are filthy, his tone dripping with praise, and the combination sends you hurtling toward the edge.

Your body trembles as the coil inside you snaps, a wave of ecstasy crashing over you so intensely it robs you of air. Your walls flutter and squeeze around him like a vice as you cry out his name, your hands reaching blindly to grasp at his arms. “Good girl, just like that,” he groans, his hips stuttering as he rides out your climax while his own begins to crest.

Suguru's head tilts forward, his lips brushing against the curve of your thigh, his breath heavy and ragged as he groans, “You’re squeezing me so tight, fuck—I don’t think I can—”

The rhythm falters and his head falls against your shoulder, his hips grinding into you one final time before he stills. You feel it then, the warmth spreading deep inside, and your dazed mind registers his groan, guttural and drawn-out, as he buries himself fully in you.

His breaths are uneven with the final pulses of his release, his movements involuntary as he rides out the last remnants of his high. When he finally leans back, his dark gaze drops to where your bodies are still connected. His cum seeps out in pearlescent trails, glistening as it trickles down your folds and pools on your ass. The sight makes him curse under his breath, his hands gripping your thighs as he lazily thrusts forward to push the mess back inside.

His gaze flicks back to your face, his expression softening as a crooked grin tugs at his lips. He watches your chest heave, your skin flushed, your half-lidded eyes clouded with exhaustion and the lingering high.

“Fuck, look at you,” he murmurs, leaning down to press a soft, lingering kiss to your swollen lips. “You’re fucking wrecked. Maybe I should get you high more often.”

[accio-victuuri]

i am someone who had always been fond of fake rumors. even if it’s not from lrlg, i will eat it up. doesn’t matter what the source is from the 3 accounts that are actively posting contributions. do i believe it’s all real? no. does that stop me from enjoying them? no. i treat it as a cute story/fan fiction to enjoy. but there are a couple of times that i talked about how it hits too close to home. maybe it’s a coincidence— just depends on the person to decide.

so everyone is talking about the clues in zz’s recent weibo post. the usual ones : a photo of the moon, taking a shot of his shoes which is re-web series and looks like wyb’s gq weibo post, the sunset backdrop etc.

but can we talk about the caption????

the plan to quit carbs fell short.

on the surface, it’s a humorous caption. zz who is lamenting the fact that his diet is “ruined” by the great food in the city. and i would say a common caption people who are on vacation will use. but two things i wanna discuss:

the caption does not match the photos. zz is not a stranger to sharing photos of food. at this point, it’s expected. but you would think, with that caption, we would at least get a photo of the culprits *cough*bread and pastries*cough* that made his plan fail right? so what is this for. who is he reporting? which leads me to the second point, the lunar new year reunion fake rumor posted on 2/22. specifically when yibo told xz “ If you don’t eat carbohydrates, your temper will get worse.” which i dismissed as their usual banter when i read it. we know wyb nags him to eat actual food so this checks out. but thinking about it now, it’s so specific. carbs. why did he say that? if this was happening during the lunar new year holidays, it could be xz was already starting or planning his no carb diet. then the caption in his weibo post confirms that, there was a plan but it failed during his milan trip.

is this him indirectly telling wyb that the plan failed? is his temper better now? lol 😂😂😂😂

we are aware that xz eats healthy food and most likely hires someone to take care of that. but no one knew about this carb thing, till this caption. or if you read the fake, you would. a fake rumor shared by someone who is allegedly in their circle.

and people wonder why we get so worked up about certain fakes… this is an example of why 💯

-END.

[noxioustoxins]

Food for Thought - JayTim - Batman

Jason just finished making pasta, a meal full of carbs and protein, with only enough sauce to make all the ingredients stick together, just the way Tim liked it. He wouldn’t eat it otherwise. He added some extra sauce to his bowl and left the kitchen.

“Any progress?” Jason asked, sitting next to Tim on the couch, mouth full of pasta and fork dripping with his properly sauced food.

Tim’s eyes flickered over, before almost immediately returning to the computer

Hook.

“The budget is almost illegible. It’s definitely on purpose but I don’t have proof of which shareholder is responsible for it.”

Tim has been chasing a shareholder through botched paperwork for a few weeks. It was a string of issues that they were not used to. Most situations they came up against could be dealt with through well-placed violence, but this was a game of cat and mouse. Which if it were an actual game, Tim might have enjoyed. But as it stands, he has a shareholder stealing money from the company and botching projects for insurance scams. The difficulty Tim was running into, the reason the investigation has been going on so long, has been because corporate scum bags fight in paper work and contracts. So, Tim has had to dig his way through red tape, new and old contracts, current budget meeting and previous budget meetings, all to match up numbers that claim to have been lost in the shuffle.

There have been a few of his ‘board of old men’, Tim’s words, that he had cleared. Each cleared shareholder lightened the load, but sniffing out one specific pompous asshole at Wayne Enterprises was taking its time; and a toll on Tim. He hasn’t been able to take time to patrol as Red Robin, and his team have had to manage a few cases without him at the helm because of the near quadrupled amount of paperwork he’s had his nose in lately. It was making him antsy, his mind had been busy, but Jason could feel Tim’s body aching to move. The way he shifted constantly lately, or got up just to walk around, the lessened patrols were definitely getting to him. When he had been able to go out, he wasn’t even working on investigations, and had taken to the role of simply beating assholes senseless.

But Tim wouldn’t let anyone help. His pride wouldn’t let him.

“So, no progress?” Jason said through another mouth full of sloppy, wet pasta.

“Not in this specific file yet,” Tim sighed, “but I was able to eliminate one more suspect today.”

Tim began chewing on his thumb nail, eyes still glued to his computer screen.

“Well,” Jason grunted as he stood up, “you have like, three extra jobs at WE now, so no one can blame you for it taking time.”

“I blame me,” Tim grumbled, “I have to wait for every new edition of every new contract and every new budget, and then having studied those, I have to wait for the board meeting, which I then spend most of that time trying to catch someone slipping, but these guys lie, cheat, and steal through their whole lives. It just feels like the progress is so slow its non-existent.” Tim pulled the laptop into his lap, slouched against the couch and scrolled through another page of gibberish on his computer that seemed to make sense to him.

“Of course it does. You’re climbing a wall of old man greed with bricks made out of million-dollar budgets and legal jargon.” Jason spoke up louder, so his voice could be heard from the kitchen.

He made his way back to the living room, taking a bite of pasta with not enough sauce, before sitting back down and staring intensely at the computer. Tim looked over at him as he entered.

Line.

“Wait.” Jason said, grabbing the computer off Tim’s lap, and putting the pasta where the laptop had been.

“What?” Tim said, leaning in. Jason held up his hand to pause Tim, and scanned the document on the computer.

“Nothing.” Jason said, looking over at Tim, then at the bowl, and back at Tim with a smile.

It was boring, and Jason had to reread every line twice for any of them to make sense. Beside him, Tim took a bite of too dry pasta.

Sinker.

Tim looked down at the bowl of pasta, made with just enough sauce for everything to stick together and extra parmesan cheese, just the way he liked it.

Tim’s glare meant nothing, as it was followed by an eye roll and a small smile. Jason closed the laptop, and Tim moved closer, another forkful of pasta in his mouth, once again reminded that, yes, he did need to eat.

[jonbene]

Thank you for the outpouring of responses and support on my first few stories. It’s been great to see and very encouraging. I’ll try to write as much as the inspiration strikes to keep you all…entertained :) Here’s my next one:

His father saw an ad guaranteed to make your kids “man up” almost overnight. It was at a wilderness camp teaching kids about foresting, wildlife, and logging. His dad jumped at the chance and dropped him off. To be honest, his son was actually excited. He loved the idea of getting dressed up in costume, spending the summer among the trees.

It’s true, within the first day they put the kids straight into lessons and trainings all about the forest and how to work. His son adjusted quite quickly and grew a liking to it. They fed him a ton of steak and carbs as he sweat, chopping down trees and hiking. It was 12 hours of work all in the first day and all the kids were exhausted by the end of it. As they got into bed, they noticed that they had changed a bit. Their clothes felt different, but still fit. They were all kind of awkward in their bodies as they grew in height subtly.

The ad didn’t lie when they said they would man up almost overnight. They all woke up at what seemed like 18 years old. Most of them had full beards by morning!

They weren’t scared though. They felt confident, excited, and strong. Testosterone coarsened through their new bodies, giving them all the symptoms. And with every new, exciting symptom, there were the adverse ones. They became more aggressive and moody. Their appetites and libido increased. They experienced headaches, acne, and their voices cracked.

Since the camp somehow changed their bodies rapidly, all their symptoms appeared and progressed and heightened rapidly. As they worked on the land feeling more comfortable in their bodies allowing their shirts to open up, letting the wind brush against their skin, their skin began to change. Their skin became tougher, thicker. Their bodies began to bulk, sprouting more and more body hair.

This was when the boys started to become alarmed. They hadn’t even been there a week, and so much had changed for them. They looked like boys in a football college now. They struggled with all the rapid, mental, and physical changes and wished they’d stop. They never wanted it to be like this; they just thought they’d be playing in a summer camp!

But the changes did anything but slow, no matter how hard they pleaded with their bosses and teachers. The deed was done and there was no reversing it. Their bosses didn’t like their protest, so it was time to escalate. They all started screaming as their bodies burned. One by one they started bursting out of their clothes. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! As one limb after another bulked and sprouted and bounded up, out, and away from them. Veins bulging out of their skin. They begged, “plllleeAAASSEE! nnnoOoOOOoOOO!” as their voices dropped even more into a huge, thunderous man’s voice. Their fate was sealed. They were men now, especially as their muscles one by one bulged up and swelled. Their bodies getting more and more dense hair. No amount of clothes could cover up their virility.

They must be silenced. There was no way the company could afford negative reviews. A wash came over their minds as the transformation slowed. As fast as it came, it ended. “Ohhhhh,” they moaned softly as their hair fell out of their heads very quickly, leaving them with none left on top and plenty everywhere else. Must be the excess testosterone. They all stood there naked coming to in a trance gently exploring their new bodies with their hands. It seemed normal to them now how hairy they’d become. It didn’t feel like just days ago their dads were dropping them off as kids. It felt normal to them how large, firm, and massive their bodies became.

It felt normal to them now that they were fully grown men. Men that enjoyed the outdoors. Men that were very capable and handy around the house and yard. Men that worked hard for their money and knew how to enjoy life as well.

Months later, they were just grown men like everyone else in society. The big secret was that they were just kids months ago and were now men in their 40s. But nobody talked about it, so the process continued happening for generations of boys looking to be accepted by their fathers.

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook: Why Not 🔞

In which Jungkook has you figured out. Dirty humor, mean and bratty- you're pretty much simply a bitch. So why are you crying over some scraped up knees and a dirty plushy?

Tags/Warnings: non-Idol AU, enemies to lovers, reader acts like she could kill but is actually a cinnamon roll, Jungkook just simply is a cinnamon roll, adult themes, fluff, romance, short!reader go cry about it, smut but very low-carb (handjob, cum in pants oops), slight DDLG-aspects/themes? Soft daddy/dom vibes from kook?

Length: longer than JKs Dick career

Additional Content: How So (Part 2)

A/N: have to post it shortened bc the longer version breaks the app :) have some fluff comfort after all that angst psycho shit I posted.

���━━━━━━━━━━━♡━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

It's not like Jungkook hates you. He really, honestly, doesn't.

In fact, he admires how honest you are, in a way. You seem comfortable with yourself, which shows in a healthy amount of confidence, no thought wasted on what people might think of your outfit or makeup. You're very expressive and creative, and you always work out solutions whenever everyone else would suggest simply giving up.

You're just.. too bold for him. He's not really interested in most things you discuss- which is often something lewd- and he also doesn't really share any interests with you. You're a miss know-it-all, you get dramatic if you don't get your way, and you manipulate people around you to even out your road ahead. You make demeaning jokes about yourself and you always put yourself down in a comedic manner- and he just doesn't like that. Even so, he still never casts you out, or ignores you. It's odd, because whenever you have one on one interactions, he can't help but feel like you're not the same as with others around. Just like right now.

You're currently all eating at a sushi place - you're sitting across from him, cleavage dangerously exposed, but he's got no right to be offended by it. In a way, he admires the way you seem to be so comfortable. But he can't help but notice the way you keep adjusting your top all the time, tugging and pulling constantly.

If it's making you so fidgety, why wear it? It irritates him a bit. He'll never understand why most girls choose fashion over comfort.

Your best friend Namjoon had told him before that you're actually not like this at all. That you're a great friend, caring and gentle and actually very fragile, and even a little shy and quiet when no one's around - however, Jungkook believes that's just your best friend trying to make you look good. You're totally fine the way you are - you're just too much for him personally. There's nothing wrong with that.

Just because he might not enjoy your personality, doesn't mean you have to change it.

But he doesn't question it, continues to eat and listen in on conversations, laughing along jokes and funny stories. He likes the energy of this. It's unforced, comfortable, easy. He's just about to continue eating, when he notices the glance you throw at his plate, something you've done a couple of times now, seemingly thinking about something, before looking away again, engaging in the conversation as if to distract yourself. "Do you want a piece?" He asks you as soon as there's a good moment, a bit more quiet as to not interrupt the current topic being discussed at the table.

You look at him, wide-eyed just for a second, before you shake your head. "It's fine. I'll maybe try it next time, though." You tell him with a smile. "Does it taste good?" You wonder, and he can't help but be amused. How come you can make straight-up dick-jokes at the dinner table, but you can't accept his offered food that you clearly got your eyes on?

"I don't know if my taste is the same as yours." He shrugs, watching as you chew on the inside of your lip now. "Let's trade, if that makes you feel better." He offers instead, and at that, you visibly perk up, eagerly putting a piece of yours on his plate to receive his.

You're.. kind of cute like this. Oddly so.

He watches without staring too much as you eat his gifted piece of sushi, clearly enjoying the taste of it as you swing your legs under the table a little. "This is good." You comment, making him nod with a smile before you both pay attention to the conversation again.

He doesn't really think much about the whole interaction afterwards.

It's not like it's anything special.

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"Ah, fuck." Namjoon curses, looking at his phone. "God, fuck. Yoongi I'm so sorry, I forgot I was supposed to drive with Y/N to her doctor's appointment today." He apologizes, making Jungkook look up from his phone.

"Is it something bad?" Yoongi asks, genuinely a bit concerned as Namjoon just seems unsure.

"We don't know, just a routine thing."He replies. "But you never know. And she's a little anxious, too. I wouldn't want her taking the bus or anything alone in that state." He explains, and everyone seems to agree that that's not a good idea. You're well known to not possess the most basic orientation skills sometimes - and with your head all over the place like this, it could just end with you getting hurt.

"What if I drive her real quick?" Jungkook offers casually, looking up from his phone from where he sits on the small sofa in Yoongi's studio. "You both can continue working, and I didn't have anything to do anyways." He shrugs.

"You know what, great idea." Yoongi chimes up.

"I'll.. text her. See if she's okay with that." Namjoon offers with a little hesitance, making Jungkook wonder how serious this appointment really is. Did you have any health troubles you'd been hiding? He's always been told to never judge a book by its cover. Maybe you were just putting on a tough mask to cover up what you thought was weakness?

Jungkook doesn't believe in that. You've always been this way ever since he'd met you.

"She said she's fine with it." Namjoon sighs after a moment, making Jungkook lock his phone and get up. "Here, let me at least bring you down." Namjoon offers, walking out the studio and towards the underground garage where Jungkook has his car parked. "Listen- can you do me a favor?" He wonders, and Jungkook nods.

"Sure." He says, opening the driver's door to throw his wallet into the back together with his jacket. "What is it?"

"Listen, it's a.. gynecologists' appointment." Namjoon says, quietly so, while Jungkook just.. stares, unable to quite grasp on why his friend would say it in a way that makes it seem as if the word is something you can't ever say out loud. So you're going to a specialist. So what? "It's her first time there. She's honestly terrified, so, if you could maybe go in with her and sit in the waiting room? Just, to keep her mind off of things." Namjoon carefully says.

Again, Jungkook just shrugs, before nodding. "Sure, no issue." He says, getting into the car. "I'll text you when she's back home then. You go up and help Yoongi." He says, before putting his phone into the holder, maps app opened to find where you're waiting.

He's a bit confused inside the car. With the way you're always talking, he'd been sure you would've been a regular at those places. Not because he thought you were a whore, God no, but he just believed until now that you'd be someone who's open and casual with it.

So why are you terrified of a simple doctor's visit?

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"You uhm.. really don't have to." You mumble quietly next to him, anxiously playing with your hands in your lap. You've been quiet the entire time, not really talking at all, and especially not looking at him. He's a little worried about that, wondering if you're maybe in pain, or really unwell in general to the point of changing your personality like this. "I know this must be weird for you." You say quietly.

"Not really, no. I went to one of these with my mom once, so its fine." He shrugs next to you, trying to maybe soothe your nerves by showing you that he's not at all weirded out or uncomfortable. To be honest, he's a bit surprised- because right now, the girl sitting next to him, isn't at all the girl he'd thought he had figured out.

However, he also assumes you might just be heavily uncomfortable with your health, which could add to you just behaving like you do right now. "You feeling okay? Should I ask them how long it's gonna be?" He asks, and you just shake your head.

"No, I can wait." You just say, trying hard to appear unbothered now. "Guess I'm just not really looking forward to a fifty-plus year-old digging around where the light doesn't reach, you know?" You attempt to joke as always, but Jungkook can spot the fakeness of it.

"Joon said it's your first time." He says, locking his phone now before putting it away.

"Son of a bitch." You curse under your breath, leaning back in your seat with your arms crossed and legs thrown forwards, heels hitting the floor. You look almost defensive now, as if he'd just insulted you. "Yeah, I didn't need to go until now." You shrug. "But my regular physician keeps bugging me to check some stuff out, and Joon has been bothering me about it too." You say. "Not like he's got anything to do with my vagina for that matter."

"Well, he worries." Jungkook shrugs next to you. "And if you've got health issues, you should always get them checked out for that matter. Could be nothing, could be something. I can understand him." He explains to you. "He cares a lot about you."

"hmhm." You affirm quietly, a bit distant now, staring at the tips of your shoes. "Joon has always been a really good friend." You say, and jungkook nods. Namjoon is the main connection between Jungkook and you- the older guy being somewhat of a brother to him, in a way. He really admired his friend a lot, for his achievements as well as his determination to always better himself. He can't deny that he never really quite understood your friendship with him- with you being so extremely different from him- but he never questioned either. "He's honest." You mumble out, and Jungkook has to agree.

"He is." Jungkook nods, though he feels like there's something more to it. He doesn't get to ask however, because your name is suddenly called- and you jump up, taking a deep breath. "Hey-" Jungkook asks, and you look down to where he sits, as he smiles encouragingly. "-You'll be fine." He promises, and you nod, before disappearing with the nurse into the examination room.

It doesn't take too long for you to emerge back out, a prescription written in front as he gets your coat and walks towards you to the counter. "If it gets any worse, just give us a call, alright?" The nurse asks, and you just quietly nod before you walk out with Jungkook trailing right behind you.

"Everything alright?" He asks, and you nod, though next to him in the car, you run your hands over your face.

"I don't ever wanna go there again." You groan, hands still hiding your face as Jungkook looks at you a bit concerned now.

"Did something happen?" He asks seriously, canceling his action of starting the car.

You take down your hands. "No. It was just.. weird." You say. "The questions were nasty. I don't know." You say quietly, and Jungkook can do nothing but start the car to drive you home. He wishes he could- but at the end of the day, this is something he can't and won't ever really understand fully. He hopes it's just the new experience freaking you out.

Parking in front of your apartment building, you really look a bit terrified now. No longer because of the appointment though- but because of the honestly world-ending rain hitting his car like it's trying to smash it flat into the concrete below. "Its really going hard outside now." Jungkook laughs, but you don't seem to be in a joking manner at all. "If you run you won't get wet."

"I don't want you to drive in this weather." You say meekly, barely able to be heard over the loud rain.

"I'll just wait until it's better." He waves off, looking at you drowned in the orange interior light of his car. You seem to think, before you turn to look at him, eyes reflecting the led lights all around like mirrors. You're really pretty, without all that makeup.

"You can come up? Just, it's cold, and if you leave the car running that's bad for the environment and you're also wasting gas-" you ramble, and he laughs, shutting down the car at that, before grabbing his keys.

"Alright." He shrugs. "If you're cool with that." He asks, and you nod after a moment. He chuckles a bit, before grabbing onto the door handle, still looking at you. "On three?" He asks, and your face lights up in playfulness.

"One?" You start, making him grin.

"Two.." he continues, making you smile as well, before you both pull on the handle.

"Three!"

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Your apartment is everything he did not expect.

"Sorry, it's a bit messy.." you say, taking off your shoes before you slip into the pink slippers close by. The coat hooks on the side of the entrance are cat shaped. The mat where the shoes are put is pink. And from what he can see, everything you have is bright, pastel colored, cute.

Almost innocently so.

You're right and wrong with it being messy, he notices as he walks into the apartment. It's small, but cozy- blankets and round plushies littering the couch close by, kitchen sink containing some dishes you didn't wash or didn't put away yet. It is a bit untidy, but not messy, in his eyes.

It just.. looks like his own apartment. Simply alive.

"Do you.. want tea?" You ask, quietly, and he nods as he walks closer to you in the open kitchen. "I.. have a lot of different flavors so.. just choose one you like." You explain, opening a cabinet that's basically all about tea. Different mugs, mostly animal designs, flower shaped coasters, sugar and many different brands and flavors of tea, boxes a bit unaligned. He pulls out a little baggy of the box that's the most empty, making you smile a bit shyly. "I like that one the most." You admit.

"I assumed. Might as well try it then." He shrugs casually, letting you boil the water while he looks around from his spot. "Your apartment is really nice." He comments.

"Thank you." You answer quietly, pouring the water into the two mugs. "Namjoon sometimes sleeps over because, according to him, my pull-out couch is more comfy than his own bed." You joke, and Jungkook laughs.

"That sounds like him." He nods, accepting the mug before you both walk towards said couch. "Granted, he sleeps on a mattress on the floor though." He tells you.

You laugh. "He's way too much of a cheapskate to buy a bedframe." You shake your head. "He could just buy it and pay it off monthly." You say.

"He could. But I guess we'll never know why he refuses to buy one." Jungkook answers, watching as you toe off your slippers to get more comfortable on the couch next to him- before you put the mug back on the small table, jumping up towards the windows, opening them. "Its still raining heavy." He says, and you nod, turning off the lights, streetlights of the city illuminating the room enough to still see, as you walk back on the couch, pulling a blanket over your shoulders. "What're you doing?" He chuckles when you put one over his shoulders as well.

"I like listening to the rain. And it smells nice." You say, wind blowing into the apartment. "And airing out is important too." You tell him, leaning your head against the backrest of the couch. He nods.

This is nice.

He'd never really thought of those aspects of rain, has always just seen it as bad. It's already slowly stopping to rain so hard, now just a soft mist, but you're right. It smells nice, not like the usual faint city smog, but clean, and fresh. The air might be cold, icy on the tip of his nose, but its also refreshing, calming.

"This is nice." He comments before he turns, noticing a bit of weight on his back. You're asleep, resting against his back, and he uses this moment to look at you a bit.

Maybe Namjoon had been right, he thinks as he adjusts you to lay your head on his thigh, tucking your blanket in around you.

Maybe you're not who he thought you were.

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"What do you mean you were inside her apartment?" Namjoon asks, visibly surprised as he puts down his chopsticks for a moment. "She let you inside?"

"It was raining hard, didn't want to let me drive home, so I had some tea at hers and left later. She fell asleep anyways, she was pretty beat, so I left a note and drove home after closing her windows." Jungkook casually explains, continuing his lunch across his friend.

"You do know she doesn't even let her own mother visit, right?" Namjoon asks, and Jungkook shakes his head.

"No, how would I know?" He says. "From how she acts and speaks, I thought she'd have regular visitors." He says, scooping up some rice as his friend across shakes his head.

"No. She hates visitors. She doesn't even open for the mailman." Namjoon says. "Her apartment is her safety zone. I'm surprised she let you in." He shrugs.

"Maybe you just don't know her that well." Jungkook teases his friend.

"You simply don't know her at all, Jungkook." He says. "Listen.. I, don't know how to say this.. " he starts, and Jungkook raises his brow in confusion.

"I'm not gonna fuck her, if that's what you're worried about." He says, and Namjoon runs a hand over his face.

"Thats.. that wasn't something I was worried about until you mentioned it actually." He mumbles. "So yeah. Don't do that please. And also, don't.. just, don't get too close to her. In general."

"Why?" Jungkook wonders honestly now. "Joon, she's not gonna break my heart or something. I'm an adult man, not a lovesick boy going through puberty. She's not even my type." He laughs.

"Jungkook, I'm serious." The older guy says, picking his chopsticks back up. "Just.. leave it as it is right now."

"What're you worried about?" Jungkook wants to know, finishing his meal as he wipes his hands clean. "You seem so serious about this."

"Because I am." He underlines again. "I told you before, she's not who she pretends she is." He reminds the younger, who leans back, arms crossed.

"What, is she a criminal?" He wonders. "Sells drugs? Owns guns? Criminal record?"

"Theres things I won't tell you cause that's not my right." Namjoon explains. "You're a good guy, I know that, she knows that. But if you get too close, she'll just get attached again." He sighs.

"And?" Jungkook clicks his tongue. "Nothing wrong with that. We're attached too. That's what friendships are. Attachments."

"I meant it as in, more than that." Namjoon mumbles in a somber tone.

"Oh." Jungkook realizes. "I.. don't think I'm her type anyways." He laughs it off, but Namjoon doesn't seem convinced.

"Just.. keep your distance." He warns. "Its for the best."

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Namjoon doesn't tell him anything about you since that day.

You don't seem to hang out with everybody as much, and he himself hasn't seen you in what's been weeks now. Everytime he checks on you via your best friend, all he gets is a short answer that's way too vague to be the actual truth. Jungkook isn't sure why he's so interested in the first place. Maybe it's that small tiny glimpse of you that you've shown him, let him taste, before disappearing from his radar.

It bothers him, mainly because he feels like Namjoon has made him out to be the bad guy that's going to break your heart it seems. He's never given a clear reason why. He's never done anything wrong.

But its not like you've vanished into thin air, and because of pure luck, he spots you in a store he's visiting quite often, crouched down at the plushy-section. He almost didn't recognize you, pastel pink bucket hat and facemask hiding you pretty well- but for some reason, he still somehow knows it's you.

You seem to struggle between buying one or the other, holding both as you glance from one of the plush toys to the other.

"Tough decision, hm?" He asks, careful not to startle you but he still does, the seemingly sudden attack of his voice sending you straight onto your butt from your squatting position. "Sorry, I didn't mean to spook you like that." He chuckles, helping you up and standing.

"No worries. I didn't pay attention." You say, while you hold onto the still packaged stuffed animals. "And uh.. yeah. I was thinking of taking, you know, maybe one." You mumble more or less. "Both are too expensive."

"Yeah, they price these pretty high in my opinion." He affirms, poking one of the plastic bags you're holding. "What's so special about these?" He wonders, and your eyes suddenly grow bigger, hands squishing the thing eagerly.

"They're squishy, and soft!" You explain to him eagerly. "Try it! They're like, I don't know, stress balls or something!" You say, and he does as you say, pulling and pressing down on the round purple creature.

"Hm yeah okay, I can see where you're coming from." He nods, charmed by your cute enthusiasm over the toy. "So, which one you taking?"

"I.. like the color of this one, and its a shark, but the other one is a chicken and cute too.. like, look at those little wings.." you complain, pulling on said wings a bit before you look down. "I don't know."

"Why not buy both and just.. skip out on buying any next month?" He wonders. "Treat yourself. For being brave at the doc's." He chuckles, and you start to fidget on the spot a little.

"They're too expensive." You reason. "If I buy both, I won't have enough money to buy proper groceries next week, and Joon has been bugging me about not eating frozen foods all the time.." you complain.

"Well, he's right, that's not exactly healthy." Jungkook agrees, before taking the chicken from you and turning it to see the price tag. "Its alright. Let me buy it then." He shrugs.

"You- no, you really don't have to." You say.

"I know." He smiles. "But I want to."

You don't say anything. You're not sure Jungkook is aware of what he's doing, supporting your bad habit of buying 'kid's stuff' as Namjoon scolds you constantly. Walking towards checkout, you can't help but wonder. "Did you and Joon fight?" You ask, and Jungkook shrugs.

"Not sure, honestly." He admits. "He's.. I guess he doesn't trust me with you."

"What does you mean?" You wonder in a serious manner, careful to make sure the line keeps moving as you walk next to him towards the cash registers.

"Thats what I'm wondering." He says. "Namjoon seems pretty protective over you. I don't know, usually I'd say he's got the hots for you, but he's with Jin, so that can't be the reason." He tells you, before walking closer to the busy cashier.

"As if anyone's got the hots for me but fourty-plus year old men." You scoff.

"Hey now, don't do that." He clicks his tongue. "I bet most guys are just- intimidated by you. You know." He shrugs, waiting in line next to you with the round chicken plush tucked under his arm. "I know I was."

"Was?" You wonder, and he laughs down at you, his smile almost blinding.

"Yeah, definitely past tense." He jokes. "Now I just think you're cute."

You want to question that further. Suddenly, it's your turn, but Jungkook walks right behind you, pulls out his credit card way before you can grab your wallet, pays for both the stuffed animals and walks you out the store.

"How'd you get here?" He wonders, as you both walk outside.

"Bus." You answer, and he nods.

"You want me to drive you home?" He asks. "I don't mind, it's on the way for me."

"Jungkook.." you suddenly say, voice trembling a little as you stand in front of him at the side of the parking lot. "I.. appreciate your kindness but, uhm.. please don't." You say, and he's a bit taken aback by it.

"Did I do something wrong?" He wonders. "If I came off too strong, I apologize. Really didn't mean to."

"Its just that.. I'm kind of tired getting friendzoned." You laugh bitterly. "Its kind of old at this point. Seeing everyone be nice to you and then move on once they've found their special someone."

"Thats.." he starts, brows all scrunched up as he stands in front of you. "You're not some part-time activity." He explains honestly to you. "I'm not being nice to you to fight my boredom or anything like that. And you're definitely not friendzoned." He chuckles a little.

"I'm always friendzoned." You scoff. "I'm just everyone's little sister, or the lewd one that's always up for a random call when the date doesn't show up." You argue.

"Well, here's the thing." Jungkook tells you, gently uncrossing your arms before placing the two round plushies in each, respectively. "I really don't care what's made you build up that tough mean-girl persona you've created. But I'd like to get to know the girl that's looking at me right now, just like this." He grins, tapping the underside of your chin teasingly. "You're teasing me with those glimpses of you every now and then. I want to know more, if you'd let me."

"That 'me' is boring." You say. "She's childish."

"I've thrown a tamper tantrum before." He shrugs.

"She's stupid." You tell him, but he shakes his head.

"I doubt that. We all got brain-farts every now and then." He crosses his arms, amused smirk on his face at your attempts to drive him away.

"She's cries over Disney movies." You try, and he laughs.

"Hey come on, everyone cries over the fox and the hound!" He simply defends, and you sigh, almost annoyed.

"Jungkook you say all that right now as if it won't end with me hopelessly falling in love with you, while you're gonna leave me behind because 'you're sorry but you've met someone and you're a great friend but nothing more'!" You complain.

"You won't even try and let me love you." He softly says, and you're a little shocked at how easy he says the for you dreaded 'L'-word. It's a big word. A heavy one. "I can't stand here and promise you that I'll fall in love with you, because first and foremost, I don't know you. And you don't know me either." He explains. "But that's something we can change. You just have to let me in."

"And you don't have to let me in?" You try and jab at him, making him laugh.

"I don't have to let you in." He simply says. "You've been seeing who I am the whole time. I'm not hiding anything." He shrugs.

"..." you pull the two stuffed animals a bit closer to yourself, plastic crinkling in your arms before you speak. "What if you don't like who I am?" You wonder quietly.

"Then at least we tried." He offers. "Life is scary. Meeting new people is scary. Letting people go is scary." He softly explains. "But if you just hide away from those things, you'll also miss out on opportunities to experience something great. Meet someone special. Or create a memory you'll never forget."

"So you're saying you already know you won't like me?" You say, now just being stubborn to see what he does.

"Stop putting words into my mouth you brat." Be laughs. "I don't like the 'you' that you force yourself to be. I know that for sure." Jungkook tells you, grabbing his car keys from his pant pocket. "But I feel like I'm gonna like this you that's right in front of me right now a lot."

He speaks bold, appears honest. You're still not sure if you trust him. And namjoon had told you to really keep him at distance, stay on high alert of anything.

But somehow, he's caught you, sticky like honey already staining your skin.

And you've always had a sweet tooth.

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It kind of feels like sneaking around.

Even though right now, you're doing nothing naughty at all, not even remotely. Jungkook is simply helping you cook, watches the pizza in the oven before he puts the mitts to the side. "You got a timer set?" He wonders, and you nod.

"I've got it to the full time for now, let's hope we don't forget the check every now and then." You say, and he nods, walking into the living room with you. The smell of food is already slowly invading your space, and you open a window to make sure it airs out before you'll go to bed later.

He's staying over. You're surprisingly calm about it.

On the couch, he's looking at you from the side. "What?" You wonder, and he shrugs.

"I'm just wondering." He says. "Why do you act so differently around others?"

"Because everyone walks over you when you're soft." You explain, pulling your legs closer to yourself next to him. "No one takes you seriously. You're just the quiet girl and nothing interesting. No one cares." You mumble.

Jungkook wants to tell you that's not true, but he knows that he'd be wrong. It's sad that soft hearts get put in a hard shell because of what most people think should be an admirable personality. Someone strong doesn't have to be someone who's always bold and loud.

When his fingers find your knee, you stiffen. It makes him question out loud what he's been having on the tip of his tongue for a while now, ever since arriving at your place. "Am I making you uncomfortable?" He wonders, and you shake your head- before shrugging, unsure. "You're a bit confusing. In a way, cause you seem like you want me close, but when I am, you start to look all cornered, just like now." He wonders.

"Yeah well.. when a guy touches me, it's always been just for that." You say. "You know. Sex."

His face becomes serious. You notice quickly how that sounded.

"Nothing bad ever happened! Not really." You admit. "But it's.. I guess I should've told you right from the start. So you won't get your hopes up." You sigh. "I don't.. want to have sex."

"Okay." He says. "Neither do I right now. I just want to touch you. Nothing else."

"Yeah no, I mean it as in- not right now, probably not anytime soon, maybe never?" You ask more or less. "I've.. never had sex before. And at this point it feels like I've just passed all the opportunities to have it with anybody."

"Do you dislike the thought of it?" He wonders. "What's making you uncomfortable about it?"

"I.. guess I'm scared it'll be awkward?" You say, wiggling your feet a bit. "What if I don't like something, for example? Or if I make a weird sound, or, I don't know, don't cum or you don't cum and then it's all wasted time and just awkward.." you try and explain.

"You're intimidated by it." He sums it up for you, and you nod. "Thats fine. First's are scary, no matter what kind."

"I'm an adult." You conquer. He laughs.

"I'm one too, and I'm still freaked out by shit!" He laughs. "But, to get back to the topic, I'm okay with that."

"Okay with not having sex?" You wonder, and he nods.

"I mean, I get it's important for most people, and I like the intimacy of it, yeah. But it's not a necessity." He shrugs. "I can jerk myself off just fine."

You deflate a little, both because you feel more calm now, but also because you don't know how to tell him you might be interested in the entire topic. But it seems like he can read minds.

"We can also, you know, ease into it." He offers. "Doesn't have to be all hard-core bondage first time." Jungkook laughs. "You okay with this whole discussion?" He gently asks, and you nod.

You're weirdly alright with it.

"So let's like- what do you like?" He wonders. "As in, when you masturbate, what's something you enjoy?"

You cringe a bit. He laughs. You're cute.

"I.. uh.." you stammer, voice a lot more quiet now. "I've got like, a vibrator? That's nice." You shrug. "Other than that, uhm, just my hand. You know. Basic stuff."

Jungkook nods. "Ever put something in?"

"It.. uh. Dunno. Never really came from it alone." You say. "Which is also why I think sex with me is gonna be weird because I've never really gotten myself off on just that." You say.

"Doesn't mean anything." He shakes his head. "The mood, foreplay, all of that makes a huge difference. That and the fact that someone else is doing it. I remember my first handjob I got. It was weird as fuck, even though technically I should've been used to it." He laughs. "I think what personally scared me most was just being naked I guess." He offers some past fears of his own.

You nod at that. "Same."

"You're pretty tough." He smiles. "I'm not just saying that. I think you're pretty, with clothes and without as well." He flirts.

"I'm still not having sex with you." You defend yourself, and he shrugs, smiling still.

"I know." He tells you. "I'm still fine with that."

It's quiet for a moment, until you speak up again. You're not sure why you're bringing it up again when you could've just let it go, because clearly you've always been against the idea of having sex with someone. But with Jungkook, for some reason, it's so easy to talk about all of this.

"I.. you said you'd ease into it " you mumble quietly. He nods. "How?"

"I could just jerk you off." He shrugs. "Simple hand job. Clothes can stay on."

"And then?" You wonder.

"Then what?" He chuckles. "The you'll know if you like someone else doing something like that for you." He offers.

"What if I'll fall in love with you then?" You quietly ask, and he impishly smiles.

"Then I've done one he'll of a good job." He jokes, before looking at you more seriously. "In all seriousness though. I wouldn't mind you falling in love with me."

"I can tell." You say, looking away. "You're easy to love."

"Thank you." He offers. "You're very easy to fall in love with too."

"That makes no sense." You roll your eyes. "Love and lust aren't the same. You just want to screw me."

"Do I?" He raises his brows. "Can't lie and say you're not physically attractive to me. But I stand by what I said. If you don't want sex, I won't ask for it."

"You'll just end up leaving me for someone who wants it." You bitterly laugh. He doesn't look happy.

"No." He says. "Okay, do you want be with me? Emotionally, I mean?" He asks you, and you look at him wide eyes. "Yes, I'm asking you out here."

"I-" you stammer, caught off guard. "Yeah?"

"Is that a question or an answer?" He teases, making you whine.

"Maybe? Yes?" You try again, but he just shakes his head.

"Alright." He simply answers. "I'll go look, see if the pizza is burned yet. You calm down, I think I've riled you up enough." He laughs, hand on your shoulder for just a second before he leaves you to yourself, giving you some breathing room.

It gives you time to think.

You like him. He's a nice guy, good looking too, and he seems honest about his intentions. You don't love him yet, but its clear that he's easy to fall in love with. But isn't love a requirement to start a relationship? Can you just get together and then fall in love?

You're not sure. But you also want to find out.

So when he emerges from your kitchen, you call out to him. "I want to." You say, and he looks at you wide eyed for just a moment, before he seems to realize what you're talking about. "I.. wanna be with you." You say.

And he smiles, grins brightly, like a kid just being offered a trip to Disney world.

"Okay."

♥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

"Everything alright?" He chuckles, voice breaking the silence in the darkened living room. "I can hear you creeping around."

It's true, you've been trying to keep quiet because you really don't know how to ask this. It's been bugging you for hours now, there's no way it seems you'll be able to fall asleep without at least attempting to solve this issue. But how do you ask for it?

He'd asked you out. You're together now, right?

"I- uh.." you wonder quietly, navigating slowly towards the pull-out couch where he's laying on. "Just wanted to see if everything's alright." You chicken out last moment, and he laughs softly.

"I'm alive and well." He answers you, before he throws back one side of the blankets, patting the spot next to him. "You wanna sleep here?" He wonders, and you sigh.

"How come you know that?" You almost whine, walking closer before you crawl underneath the warmed up blankets he'd been resting under. "Thanks." You say, but he shakes his head.

"No problem. You can come closer, too." He tells you more quietly now that you're already laying next to him.

It takes a moment for you. You're not sure how close you want to get, how close he will let you- so you slowly scoot forwards, inching closer like a scared animal before you finally settle with your head on the inside of his shoulder, arm over his middle. "Is that okay?" You wonder. He nods.

"Definitely." He answers. "Do you cuddle a lot?" He wonders, and you shake your head.

"I've not.. cuddled with anybody since I was a child." You admit. "So I.. jungkook, I'm gonna need a lot of help for this." You confess quietly. "I don't know how this works. How I'm supposed to act, what I'm supposed to do. I don't know what's right and what's not."

"Thats fine." He reassures you.

It's a little silent after that. You don't know what to say, how to ask. Isn't it weird now? Won't you move too fast? "What's going on in there." He teases, finger flicking your head rather gently. You move around a little uncomfortably. He notices right away. "Not good? You can go back to your bed if it's not comfortable." He offers.

"I don't know.." you say, unsure how to put it in words. "..I'm still thinking about what you said. Earlier." You mumble.

"What exactly?" He wonders quietly.

"The uhm.. you know. Sex part." You stammer out.

"I really don't need it." He chuckles. "Might be hard to grasp but if you don't want it I won't bother you with it."

"I want to." You say. It's dead quiet for a moment before you continue. "Like.. how you said. You know, start small, and all that." Tou explain.

"Okay." He answers after a moment. "Right now?" He asks. You nod.

"I just.. don't know what to do. And I didn't shave- oh God okay no maybe some other day then-" you ramble, he laughs.

"Who cares if you shave?" He jokes easily. "Its fine by me. I don't mind it." He tells you.

"You're weird." You cringe a bit. "Guys don't like that-"

"Maybe you've just met idiots then." He shrugs. "I'm honest here. I don't care if you shave or not. You could dye that hair downstairs pink, who am I to tell you what your body has to look like?" He scoffs playfully, making you laugh a little.

This is why you like him. He's easy. Simple. Comfortable.

"Do you want me to use something? Or just my hand?" He wonders quietly, and you just shrug.

"I wanna.. you know. Know if I like what you do." You offer, and he hums an affirmative reply at that, hand under the covers feeling for your thigh.

"You can stop me at any time." He almost whispers. "It won't be awkward, I promise." He assures, and you nod, letting his palm explore under the covers. You're not sure if he's careful or just plain teasing- but most of all, it's strangely exciting.

He moves you a bit, pulls you closer, eyes searching for ant signs of discomfort. "Jungkook..?" You ask quietly, and he chuckles a bit before nodding. "..can you uhm.. maybe kiss me?" You wonder, and there's no reaction for a moment, until he moves again, adjusts himself so he can properly angle himself, lips meeting yours carefully so.

The first one feels weird. You're unsure. You lift your head in a moment if bravery to try again, and it gets more comfortable.

It's nice.

He seems amused, but not at you - more at the fact that you're a lot more independent than you might've thought you'd be in a situation like this.

You're leading him. You're probably not aware, but your body language and responses all speak clearly to him about what you enjoy and what you don't. At first, he stops any advances, but you whine for him to continue. "Just.. cold hands."

"Sorry." He chuckles. "My fingers are pretty cold sometimes." He jokes. You nod, breathing a bit heavier now as soon as his hands warm up, slowly traveling underneath your underwear, middle finger easily finding your most sensitive spot. "Feeling good?" He wonders, and you nod, squirming around a bit.

"More." You ask, moving around a little, seemingly unsure where to put your limbs. He's doing it very differently from how you'd do it- but it's nice. He's making you feel good, not just in lust, but also in general.

There really isn't anything weird about it.

Or maybe your brain is just a bit foggy.

You want to stop him suddenly, feeling too sensitive, and he does halter his movements to check in with you. "What's wrong?" He asks.

"Weird. Sensitive- I.. don't know." You say. "I feel like I'm gonna pee or something." You say.

"Have you ever had an orgasm before?" He wonders, and you suddenly think. Have you? You're not sure.

"I.. don't know." You say.

"Hm." He cocks his head to the side a little, amused look on his face. "Lets see then." He almost challenges, resuming his activities, making you squirm yet again as you feel like something might be happening. Your back arches, and suddenly, you're not sure why you can't help but gasp out, his movements perfectly stable as pleasure rolls over you in waves. "There we go." He laughs, watching as you slowly come back down.

"Thank you.." you say breathlessly, before cringing at the sight of his glistening hand. "Uhm.. do you want me to do something too.?"

"It's okay." He says. "I've enjoyed watching you. That's enough." Jungkook chuckles, before pulling back the covers. "No, clean up. I gotta wash my hand and change too." He laughs, slapping your thigh with his clean hand.

"Change?" You wonder, standing up and cringing at the slippery feeling between your legs.

"I told you." He laughs, and only now do you notice a wet spot on his sweatpants as he'd turned on the lights. "I really enjoyed myself as well."

♥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

He's warm.

His arm lays heavy over your body, breathing soft and barely noticeable on the skin of your neck. Jungkook has slept close to you the entire night, didn't mind when you stole the blanket from him it seems. He's holding onto you, face clear of any worry, no muscle tensed as he sleeps.

He slowly seems to wake up, pulls you closer for a moment as he stretches his limbs and back, before his tired eyes open. "Hey." He greets with a raspy voice.

"Hey." You quietly greet back. He chuckles.

"How do you feel?" He wonders, pulling you closer with a sleepy grin.

"Good. Happy." You say.

"In love?" He wonders.

You nod.

And he smiles, brighter than the sun already high up in the sky outside your window.

♥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

[girlboypersonthingy]

can I request a list of like green flags and red flags for each of the characters in voltron? btw I love your writing:)

Hello friendo, thank you sm! Thanks for the request, I adore this idea. Also…Sorry y’all, I was posting like every other day for two weeks and then I hopped off for like two months. Oof life is really life-ing rn. I honestly chose to write this prompt before a lot of other requests bc it seems like an easy and short thing to bust out quickly. I swear, I will get to the rest eventually 🩵 keep sending in requests if you’d like! And as always… ENJOY~

KEITH ❤️

Red Flags 🚩

TERRIBLE AT COMMUNICATING. We all know Keith is stubborn and easily overwhelmed with a short temper. He doesn’t really know how to talk to people without getting angry. He feels that bc he has a hard time explaining exactly what he means, people never understand him and that makes him mad.

Bro isn’t scared of anything…and that low key scares everyone else. Like…who isn’t afraid of anything? The whole team has tried sooooo hard to figure out what will get Keith to jump out of his skin and scream like a child but to no avail… Boy just doesn’t flinch, doesn’t care, couldn’t care less about bugs and rodents and clowns and heights or anything like that.

Wears his gloves in the shower sometimes. Like wtf ???

Green Flags ✅

Also bc he is not afraid of anything, boy will protect his friends/family/partner SO HARD. He will verbally AND physically tear someone apart just for looking at you the wrong way. Very protective and caring but in a good way ya know?

Actually very selfless and not self-centered in the slightest. Keith is very giving and helpful, despite his tough exterior, he’s very caring, observant and considerate. He’ll give the shirt off his back to someone in need. He’s always down to help others. Ugh Sweet heart ❤️‍🔥

Has a sick ass space wolf that will also protect you like COSMO IS A MAJOR PLUS OKAY BIG GREEN FLAG DOGGO

LANCE 💙

Red Flags 🚩

Obvi his biggest red flag is how flirty he is. Boy will flirt with anything that breaths and that can get really annoying sometimes and affect the rest of the team.

Jealous AS FUCK. Like the petty jealous type. Lance is the kind of guy to pretend he has a partner back home just bc some alien girl he was flirting with said she had a partner already. He’s like “OH YEAH? Wow cool me too, same same, yeah….” But homie’s ego is a bit sore now…

Lies a lot. Lance just panics sometimes and tells a lie. He knows it’s wrong and he always feels guilty after lying to someone but it always just slips out. His mouth moves faster than his brain most the time.

Green Flags ✅

THE BEST HUGGER/CUDDLER OMFGGGGGG. Lance is the best hugger and cuddle buddy ever, period, end of story, try to change my mind. His long arms always stretch fully around the recipient’s torso and he squeezes tight enough to make you feel warm but not smothered. Usually will rest his chin on the other person’s head if they’re short enough (so Pidge obvi).

Very aware of other’s moods/body language/tone of voice. Everyone thinks Lance is “the dumb one” but he’s actually very in tune with what’s going on in the moment, what’s going on around him. I think he can tell how others feel the second he sees them. Good intuition kinda thing. An empath for sure.

Very considerate and often remembers the little things about people. Does he remember what he learned in class just a couple days ago? Pffft heck no! Does he remember everyone’s birthday, every year and get them a very thoughtful gift? HELL YEAHH I LOVE THIS SWEET BOY OMFG 🩵

SHIRO 🖤

Red Flags 🚩

Honestly…idfk Shiro is so perf. Perfect baby boy all the way

Maybe he could seem too nice at first…? Like when someone is nice but ur like “are you for real? Or are you fake and evil and you’re hiding something?” I think Shiro could be perceived as being fake nice at first.

Omg I feel like Shiro is one of those “ oh no, that looks delicious but I can’t. I’m watching my carbs.” YOU KNOW SHIRO IS A GYM DUDE WHO COUNTS HIS CALORIES PLZ

Green Flags ✅

ALSO AN A+ HUGGER. Imagine those big ass arms holding you so softly and so close to his big, warm body. Omg so comforting, so relaxing. Often gives a gently squeeze just before letting go and pulling away. Ugh 😩❤️‍🔥

Literally the most trustworthy man in the universe. Will defend his friends, loved ones, and planet until the end of time. Shiro would die before revealing any secrets you’ve asked him to keep. The best person to vent to bc he’ll never tell another soul about it. He’s like a personal diary

Shiro is sooooo patient. Definitely the most patient one on the team. He really does take his own advice…ya know, patience yields focus 😌 very sweet, calm man. We love Shiro

PIDGE 💚

Red Flags 🚩

GIRL WILL WORK HERSELF TO DEATH PLZ GO CHECK UP ON HER, BRING HER FOOD AND WATER, GENTLY FORCE HER INTO BED SHE NEEDS SLEEP.

Lowkey kinda moody and can get snappy very easily. Pidge is a sweet heart and very smart and a good team player but she’s also stubborn and will yell to get her point across or make herself heard (she’s an Aries…what’d you expect?)

Sometimes very conceited and braggy about how smart she is. Like yeah Pidge, we know you’re a genius and you could code in your sleep. WE GET IT. UR SMART. GEEZ 😒

Green Flags ✅

Pidge is so baby. Yeah, she can get snappy and braggy sometimes but…SHES SO BABY PLZ FORGIVE HER. She’s just young and stressed okay? Give her a break. She’ll apologize eventually with puppy dog eyes and a soft voice and while she looks adorable, she is being sincere and really wants to resolve this.

Very loyal and determined. I mean look how hard she searched and fought for her dad and brother. She won’t stop for anything or anyone once she has her mind set. Pidge Will never leave you behind and will always turn back to help someone in need.

Androgynous royalty. Pidge is soooo chill about her gender and identity. We love a confident babe 🏳️‍🌈💚

HUNK 💛

Red Flags 🚩

Boy is too scared sometimes. I think Hunk has really bad anxiety and it’s not the anxiety that is the red flag, it’s how he copes with it…which he doesn’t. Hunk let’s his anxiety get the best if him sometimes…but he’s trying.

Honestly…does Hunk really have any other red flags??? Baby boy is so sweet idk 🤷🏻

Over eats to the point of getting sick sometimes…and never learns his lesson. (Me asf)

Green Flags ✅

THE SWEETEST MOST CONSIDERATE AND THOUGHTFUL MAN IN THE UNIVERSE OMFG WHAT A SWEET HEART 😩💛 honestly just a very good guy. We love Hunk.

Obvi his cooking skills!!! Can cook for any occasion, on any cooking surface, in any conditions. Can cook so many different dishes from so many rich cultures around the world! So talented. His food always hits.

THE ABSOLUTE BEST at cheering others up. Soooo funny and silly and kind and relatable. He tries so hard to brighten others’ days when they need it. Will stop what he’s doing just to go cheer up a friend or loved one and watch them smile again.

MATT 🧡

Red Flags 🚩

Interrupts A LOT. In any given conversation, he will interrupt and talk over someone else at least once every minute. Can get really annoying sometimes but in his defense, if he waits too long to speak up, he’ll just totally forget what he was gonna say.

Like Lance, I think Matt would be overly flirty and act like a Fuck boy sometimes. Like bro sit your nerd ass down, that person is SOOO out of your league plz chill.

Can not take anything seriously (unless it comes to his family or his or anyone else’s safety) but day to day, Matt makes so many dumb and inappropriate jokes at the worst times. Ugh 😒

Green Flags ✅

Very brotherly to everyone he considers a friend or family. Protective, constantly checking up on others, making sure they have eaten, asking if they need anything from him. He cares a lot. Bonus points bc he’s a very good brother to his actual sibling too. Aww Pidge and Matt are sibling goals. 🥹

HOT AS FUCK NO MATTER HIS HAIR STYLE/LENGTH. You can fight me on this. Matt is gorg and so is his hair at every single moment throughout the show.

Extremely accepting and open minded. Matt treats everyone he meets equally and never seems phased when he meets others so different from himself. He may ask some questions for the sake of his own curiosity, but would never pass judgment on another person.

[cutecurly-hair]

Hearts Unleashed (Part 6)

Pairing: Nick Nelson x Black!fem!reader

Warning: Fluff, Smut in later chapters, Body Shaming

Words: 6,417

It has been a minute since I uploaded, but I made it up to yall by making this chapter a LOT longer. Enjoy!

"You don't know what you're talking about," I finished as I bit into my banana. Charlie rolled his eyes for the fifth time this morning, taking a bit of his breakfast sandwich and throwing the rest in the garbage.

"I swear your love life needs some proper tending to or it is just going to end up nonexistent,"

"How can you throw that away, I could have finished it for you," I protested, looking at banana resentfully. Mother only gives me fruits for breakfast or protein bars since she thinks having carbs first thing in the morning is terrible for the diet.

Charlie shook his head, his expression a mix of amusement "The sandwich was terrible, you wouldn't like it," which I knew was a lie.

"Ok enough about me, what about you! How are you and that guy you were talking with I completely forgot his name," Charlie face fell, quickly regretting on even asking.

Charlie scratched his head, a sheepish grin appearing on his face. "Um, actually, I decided to break things off."

I blinked, surprised by his response. "You did? Why?"

Charlie sighed; his expression somber. "It's just… things weren't working out between us. We wanted different things, and it was causing too much strain on the relationship. If there was even a relationship"

"I'm sorry to hear that," I said, genuinely feeling for him. "Are you okay?"

He nodded, though his smile was wistful. "Yeah, I'll be fine. It's for the best, really."

I reached out, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. "If you need anything, I'm here for you, Charlie."

"Thanks, Y/N," he said, his voice appreciative. "I appreciate that." I knew something was up, he had that look on his face far too long, I can tell it's starting to eat him up badly.

As we walked towards the school gates, I noticed a gathering of the rugby team, and my heart sank as I recognized Nick among them. And standing right beside him was Imogen.

"Just when you think things couldn't get any worse," I muttered under my breath.

Charlie's expression darkened as he caught sight of them too. "Of all the days..."

I could feel Charlie's stare intensely at the side of my skull, his concern palpable. It was clear that seeing Nick and Imogen was the last thing I needed on top of everything else.

"Do you want to, you know, avoid them?" Charlie asked quietly, already knowing the answer.

I let out a resigned sigh. "I wish we could, but unfortunately I have practice with him after school." We haven't talked ever since that night, he hasn't messaged me, and I haven't messaged him. It seems that everything has been put on pause I swear this boy is just giving me a straight whiplash to Tara Jones and now Imogen.

"You can probably ditch," Charlie suggested, offering a glimmer of hope. "I'm sure Coach Singh won't mind, plus I can probably cover for you."

The thought of skipping practice tempted me, but then I remembered the inevitable consequence: being bombarded by my mother's relentless fitness regimen. She had been devouring articles on quick weight loss methods before spring started, and I wasn't ready to endure another lecture about healthy living.

I shook my head firmly. "Nope, I will definitely be at practice. I'll just head to the library and study while I wait for them to finish, then clean the locker room." he nodded in understanding.

"Thanks, Charlie," I said sincerely, feeling grateful for his support. But as I glanced over at Nick, I noticed him saying something to Imogen, causing her cheeks to flush with a bright smile. My mouth turned sour, and I quickly grabbed Charlie's arm, leading him through the gates.

"Let's go before we miss out on breakfast from the cafeteria," I urged, my tone a little more urgent than intended.

Charlie furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "But we just ate?"

I swallowed hard, my stomach tying into knots. "I'm still hungry,"

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ +

Anywhere else in the world would be better than this classroom right now. I sink into my seat, doing everything I can to avoid looking at the one person I wish I could avoid the most.

I should have just skipped school entirely

"Hi,"

I glanced up reluctantly, meeting Nick's gaze. His smile was warm, but it only intensified the knot in my stomach.

"Hi," I replied, keeping my tone neutral.

His brow furrowed slightly, sensing my unease. "Is everything okay?"

I forced a smile, hoping it looked convincing. "Yeah, everything's fine. Just not feeling great today."

There was a moment of hesitation in his expression before he spoke again, his voice softer this time. "Do you want to go to Harry's party... with me?"

My heart skipped a beat at his unexpected invitation. I blinked, caught off guard "I don't think it's my type of thing and if it's for Harry definitely count me out," The guy was just a straight up asshole, there is nothing that can make me like that man, especially with the awful things he says.

"Please come. I want you to be there," he looked at me hopefully, and I couldn't ignore the sincerity in his eyes. It almost hurt to see him like this, his vulnerability making me soften.

"Okay," I smiled sheepishly, feeling a little guilty for giving in so easily. I could practically feel Charlie's eyes boring into the side of my head, likely already knowing that I was about to agree.

---

"I can't believe you did that," Charlie sighed, shaking his head. "I swear, you have the willpower of a peanut."

I chuckled nervously, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up my neck. "Yeah, well… he practically begged me. There's no way I could have said no."

Charlie raised an eyebrow, a skeptical look on his face. "Begged you, huh? Sounds like quite the convincing argument."

I shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. "Well, you know Nick. He can be quite persuasive when he wants to be."

Charlie sighed, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "I swear, you're like putty in his hands."

I rolled my eyes but couldn't help the small smile tugging at my lips. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. But I'm sure it'll be fine. Especially since you're coming with me."

Charlie raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Wait, what? I didn't agree to that."

I grinned, nudging him playfully. "Come on, Charlie. You can't let me face this party alone. Besides, it'll be more bearable with you there."

He sighed dramatically but smiled back. "Fine, I'll go. But only because I don't trust you to stay out of trouble on your own."

"Deal," I said, feeling a bit more confident about the party with Charlie by my side.

----------

The afternoon sun was beginning to set as Charlie and I rummaged through my closet, looking for something decent to wear to Harry’s party. My room was a mess, clothes strewn everywhere as we tried to find the perfect outfit.

Charlie held up a shirt, scrutinizing it before tossing it aside. “This one’s too plain. You need something that stands out.”

I groaned, flopping down on my bed. “I don’t even know why I agreed to this. Harry’s parties are always so... Harry.”

Charlie laughed, shaking his head. “Agree, but you’re doing this for Nick, remember? And besides, it’ll be good to get out and have some fun.”

I shot him a skeptical look. “You think hanging out with Harry and his crowd is fun?”

He thought for a moment, pulling out a vibrant top from the pile. "Absolutely not but we must preserve. But at least you won’t be alone. We’ll stick together.”"

I took the top from him, eyeing it critically. “Alright, I guess this could work. What about you? What are you wearing?”

He smirked, holding up a simple yet stylish outfit. “Already got it covered. Unlike you, I came prepared.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help but smile. “Show-off.”

Charlie threw a pillow at me, laughing. “Hey, someone’s got to keep us looking decent.”

As I changed into the outfit he picked, Charlie sat on the edge of my bed, giving me a thumbs-up when I emerged from behind the closet door. “See? You look great. Nothing to worry about”

Just then, Charlie's phone buzzed, and I noticed his smile falter as he looked at the screen.

"Shit!" he muttered under his breath.

I turned to him, concerned. "What’s wrong?"

"Tao and Elle just texted me about film night tonight! I completely forgot," typing furiously on his phone.

Trying to lighten the mood, I suggested, "Hey, why don't we invite Tao and Elle? Nick definitely won't mind."

Charlie shook his head, a wry smile playing on his lips. "Tao would rather be caught dead than step foot into one of Harry's parties."

I laughed, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, you're right. But it’d be nice to have them around."

Charlie sighed, glancing at his phone again. "It's fine. Elle's going over there, and Isaac called in sick. He'll be okay," he said, slipping the phone into his back pocket.

I could already tell I was at the very top of Tao's shit list, and it wasn’t about to get any better.

We were halfway out the door when my mom's voice rang out, stopping us in our tracks.

"Do you kids need a ride?" she asked, looking up from her magazine with a hint of concern in her eyes.

I shook my head, forcing a smile. "No, thanks. Charlie's dad already offered to give us a lift."

"Alright then," she said, her gaze sweeping over my outfit. I can feel the eyes pouring at every single detail of what I was wearing, I knew she wouldn't say anything infront Charlie, she wouldn't do that to me "But honey, make sure to suck in your stomach. It looks a little chubby."

I was wrong

My cheeks burned with embarrassment as I forced a smile. "Got it, Mom."

Charlie gave me a sympathetic glance, his eyes full of understanding. "Ready?" he asked, trying to shift the mood.

"Yea," I replied, taking a deep breath, rushing out the door. "Let's get out of here."

As we stepped outside, the cool evening air hit my face, and I felt a mix of relief and lingering embarrassment. Charlie nudged me playfully.

"Don't let it get to you," he said with a grin. "You look great."

I smiled, grateful for his support. "Lets have some fun."

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ +

"Pick up at 10, okay?" Mr. Spring said, glancing back at us in the rearview mirror.

I nodded absentmindedly, my attention drawn to the enormous house outside. The place was massive had Harry really rented out an entire hotel? Just how rich was he?

Charlie’s voice broke through my thoughts. "Can't it be 11?" he pleaded, looking at his dad hopefully.

"No, 10 is late enough," Mr. Spring replied firmly.

Charlie sighed, looking defeated as he got out of the car. "Fine," he muttered.

I quickly followed suit, turning back to say goodbye to Mr. Spring. "Thanks for the ride!"

"Have fun, you two!" he called after us as we stepped into the cool evening.

The smell of cheap perfume and artificial vape flavors filled my nose. There was a long line of people, and everywhere I looked, girls were squeezed into tight dresses, their faces caked with makeup. I started to wonder if we were at the right party. Thank God Charlie helped me pick out my outfit, or I would have stood out like a sore thumb.

Charlie nudged me with a grin. "I could have used your help back there, you know?"

I shot him a flabbergasted look. "You're crazy if you think I was going to argue with your dad."

Charlie laughed, shaking his head. "Fair enough. But you owe me one."

I rolled my eyes playfully. "Yeah, yeah. Let's just get inside before I change my mind."

We joined the line, inching our way forward as the music thumped louder with every step. The hotel loomed above us, lights flashing from every window, just from taking a peek inside I can definitely tell that Harry went all out.

We stepped inside, the noise and lights hitting us full force. People were everywhere, dancing, laughing, and shouting to be heard over the music. I didn't know which way to look; it was so crowded. Charlie grabbed the hem of my top so he wouldn't get lost in the crowd. My palms were starting to sweat.

The sheer volume of people and the pulsing music made my head spin. Charlie leaned close to my ear, his voice barely audible over the noise. "Let'd find somewhere quiet I can barely hear myself think."

I nodded, my heart pounding feeling the bass within my body. We pushed through the throng of people, dodging couples and groups of friends. Every corner seemed to hold a new spectacle: a group of girls taking selfies, a guy attempting an impressive but ultimately disastrous dance move. The flashing lights made my head feel fuzzy.

I was already overstimluted and I haven't been here for five minutes. "Do you want to get a drink?"

He nodded in agreement. "Good idea. I swear, did Harry invite the whole city?" Charlie looked frazzled; it seemed he wasn't doing any better than me.

We walked down a quieter hallway, only a few people milling about. "You stay here; I'll go get the drinks," Charlie said, glancing back at me with a smile.

I nodded gratefully, leaning against the wall to catch my breath, trying to ignore the overpowering smell of smoke and alcohol that filled my nose. Charlie disappeared into the crowd, and I took a moment to collect myself, looking at myself in the mirror. My curls seemed to be frizzing up from the humidity, and I quickly ran my fingers through them, trying to tame the wild strands.

Nearby, a table was filled with enough snacks and drinks to feed an army. I made my way over, deciding a quick bite might help settle my nerves. Mother would actually kill me if she saw me eating this stuff.

I grabbed a handful of chips and popped them into my mouth, the salty crunch grounding me a bit. I picked up a cup of the red liquid and took a gulp, but quickly grimaced at the terrible aftertaste.

Looking around the room, trying not to get knocked down by stumbling people who had clearly had enough to drink, I spotted a familiar face in the crowd. I could feel the heat rising in my face as I realized it was Nick.

Spotting me instantly, a look of relief filled his face. He started making his way through the crowd. "I have been looking for you!" we said in unison.

Even in the chaos of the party, I couldn’t help but notice how good he looked. His hair was perfectly tousled, and his smile lit up his eyes, making my heart skip a beat. He had this way of making me feel like I was the only person in the room. I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks. No matter how overwhelming things got, just seeing him made everything easier.

Nick and I exchanged a warm smile, “How about we go grab a drink?” he suggested, his voice soft but somehow cutting through the noise.

“Yeah, that sounds good,” I agreed, feeling a little more at ease with him by my side.

We made our way through the crowded room, and every time someone bumped into me, Nick would gently place his hand on my back, guiding me forward. It was such a small gesture, but I couldn’t ignore the tingling sensation it left behind.

Finally, we reached the drinks table, a mix of colorful concoctions laid out before us. Nick picked up a couple of cups, handing one to me with a playful grin. “I think this one’s safe,” he said, making me think back to that horrid red liquid from earlier.

I laughed, taking the cup from him. “Let’s hope so. I had one earlier, and I swear I thought it was roofied.”

He immediately looked concerned. "Sorry about that. I forgot how some of Harry's parties can get kind of crazy. I was even debating whether to come," he admitted, staring down at the red cup like it was the bane of his existence.

"It's alright, really," I reassured him. "It’s good to hang out with your friends."

Nick shrugged, a small, honest smile tugging at his lips. "Ehh, they're not my 'friends friends.' It's a lot more fun hanging out with you."

I tried not to let my surprise show, but his words caught me off guard. The idea that he’d rather spend time with me than his usual Rugby buddies made my heart flutter. “Really?” I asked, trying to keep my tone casual, though I could feel my face warming.

“Yeah, really,” he said, meeting my eyes with a sincerity that made my chest tighten. “I always have more fun when you’re around. Those guys are great, but they’re not...” he was trying to find the words

“Fun?” I offered with a teasing smile.

Nick’s eyes trailed off, lingering on mine for a moment longer before he nodded slowly. “Well, there’s never really a dull moment with you,” he said with a mischievous grin, “so I tend to keep you close. You know, just in case things get too boring I need someone to liven things up.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “So, I’m your emergency backup for fun?”

“Exactly,” he said, nodding with exaggerated seriousness. “In case this party sucks, I know who just to call .”

I playfully nudged him. “And here I thought you just enjoyed my company.”

“I do,” he said, leaning in slightly with a playful grin. “I just need someone to keep me entertained”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Well, I’m flattered to be your go-to for fun. I have to say, your backup plan is working pretty well tonight.”

Nick grinned, shaking his head. “I’m just glad that your here, I swear I barely know anyone here"

Trying to play it cool, even though I was secretly thrilled that Nick was happy to see me, we made our way to a quieter corner of the party. We found a spot away from everything, where we could actually sit and talk without having to shout over the music.

"You know," Nick started with a grin, "I’ve been forcing my mum to play Mario Kart ever since you absolutely destroyed me at that game. Thought I might finally get a win somewhere."

I burst out laughing, nearly spilling my drink. "You’re practicing with your mom? That’s dedication! Even for you?"

"I'm being serious," Nick replied, his tone earnest. "I’ve never seen anyone play that good. You completely embrassed me"

I grinned, feeling a bit of pride. "Well, I’m glad I could leave such an impression. Guess all those hours of practice paid off."

Nick shook his head, still looking amazed. "You don’t understand. I’ve never been so thoroughly beaten at anything in my life. It was like you had cheat codes or something."

"Just pure skill," I teased, giving him a playful nudge. "Maybe next time I’ll teach you how to win," I teased, then quickly realized it sounded more flirtatious than I intended.

"I—"

Before he could finish, someone called out, “Nick!” From the number of times I’d heard that voice at practice, I could almost smell the narcissism dripping from it. Nick’s expression shifted to mild annoyance as he glanced over his shoulder.

“All right, mate,” Nick said, eyeing Harry up and down with a look of uneasy tolerance. Despite the size of the place, it seemed Harry’s presence was as unavoidable as ever.

“Why are you hanging out here? Bit boring, innit?” Harry asked, his gaze directly fixed on me. The group behind him exchanged knowing glances, their eyes lingering on me with an air of smugness. I shot him a withering glare, not liking where this was going.

Nick shot me a worried look, trying to diffuse the tension. “We just are”

Harry smirked, flopping down on the couch next to Nick and draping an arm around him as if marking his territory. “I’ve got important news for you,” he announced with exaggerated enthusiasm.

“Yeah, what?” Nick asked, clearly uninterested but trying to play along.

"Tara Jones is here" he annoucned gaining the ooos from the boys. My breath hitched, and a sinking feeling settled in my stomach. I knew coming here might have been a mistake.

Nick’s expression turned to confusion. “So, what?”

Harry looked around as if he couldn’t believe on what he was hearing. “This is your big second chance, mate. Let’s make it happen,” he said with a chuckle, Harry looking over at me "They kissed when they were thirteen. Proper romantic" egging on crowd. He says it like I have been dying to know but all I want to do right now is disapear.

“He should go for it, right?” Harry asked, his words dripping with smugness as he pretended to care about my opinion. I could see the tension building in Nick, his discomfort almost palpable. My own irritation was rising fast, and I was seconds away from telling Harry to back off, because if there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s seeing Nick put on the spot like this.

"Come on, mate," Harry urged, tugging at Nick's arm to pull him up from the couch.

"Harry—" Nick started, his voice laced with protest.

"Come on. She’s just down the corridor,” Harry insisted, ignoring Nick’s reluctance.

Nick hesitated, clearly uncomfortable. "I haven't talked to her in years."

"So? She's super hot, man," Harry insisted, not letting up.

Nick barely had time to respond before Harry turned toward the crowd, calling out, "All right, ladies!" His voice carried through the room, gathering curious glances.

My stomach twisted as Harry’s words sliced through the noise, “Hey, Tara! I've got someone who wants to see you!” I glanced over, and there she was stunning in a way that made it hard to look away. My chest tightened as her eyes locked onto Nick, her smile effortlessly brightening the room. I could feel my heart sinking, a wave of insecurity washing over me. Tara wasn’t just beautiful; she was the kind of beautiful that made me question what I was even doing here.

The music drowned out their voices, but I could still see the way Tara’s eyes lit up as Nick talked to her. A tight knot formed in my chest as I watched, feeling like an outsider in a scene I didn’t belong in.

I’m so pathetic, I thought, standing here, just watching.

I slipped away, disappearing down the corridor, hoping to lose myself in the crowd and escape the sinking feeling in my gut. As I tried to shake off the unease, someone stepped in front of me.

“Hey, you wouldn’t happen to know where Charlie Spring is, would you?”

I glanced up, recognizing the boy but struggling to place his name. “No, actually, I’ve been looking for him too,” I admitted. After a beat, I added, “And you’re…?”

He smiled, looking a bit bashful. “Ben. We met a while back when you were trying to find the film club.”

It clicked, and I nodded, a small smile creeping onto my face. “Oh, right! I remember now. I can’t believe you still remember me,” I said, laughing a bit, though I couldn’t help but feel a bit flustered.

He chuckled softly, “You’re pretty hard to forget…” There was something in his tone that made the words linger, and I found myself blushing slightly.

A warm flush spread up my neck, I honestly had no idea how to respond to that, so I just offered a shy smile. My mind racing for something to say.

Ben’s smile widened, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “So, what are you doing hiding out back here? The party too wild for you?”

I shrugged, glancing back toward the crowd where Nick was still talking to Tara. “Yeah, something like that,” I mumbled. “Just needed a break from all the noise.”

Ben followed my gaze, his expression turning a bit more serious. “Ah, I see. Sometimes these things can be a bit... much.”

I appreciated his attempt to empathize, even if he didn’t know the half of it. “Yeah,” I agreed, nodding. “It’s just one of those nights, I guess.”

Ben seemed to sense my discomfort and shifted the conversation. “Well, if you ever need to disappear for a while, you can always come hang out with me. I’m more of a ‘quiet corner’ kind of guy myself.”

I smiled at that, feeling a little less alone. “Thanks, Ben. I might just take you up on that.”

Catching something in the corner of his eye, he gives me a fleeting smile and then quietly excuses himself. “I’ll catch you later,” he says, before slipping away, leaving me by myself…again.

Finding a lone couch off to the side, I flopped down onto it, feeling like I might as well get a goddamn trophy for being the lamest person in the room. I pulled out my phone, scrolling through notifications that didn’t interest me, my eyes glazing over texts from friends from back home and ignoring the persistent messages from my mother. Only an hour left before Charlie's dad picks us up. Time seemed to crawl, each minute stretching into an eternity.

I sighed, sinking deeper into the cushions, trying to disappear into the background.

"Hi," a familiar voice cut through the noise. I looked up to see Nick standing in front of me, his hands shoved awkwardly into his pockets. He offered a small, hesitant smile, as if unsure of whether he was welcome.

“Hey,” I replied, sitting up a bit straighter, surprised he’d sought me out again.

"You left."

"Sorry, I was just... starting to feel out of place. The guys can be somewhat intimidating," I admitted, my voice trailing off as I glanced at the crowd. It was a bit of the truth, but it didn’t fully capture how overwhelmed I felt.. Not like I am going to tell him that I have a crush on him, that would certainly make matter worse.

He shook his head, a subtle furrow creasing his brow. "Don’t be sorry," he said firmly, his tone edged with genuine concern. "Half of them are just... dickheads. I’m tired of being around them. I'd much rather hang out with you." His words were sincere, his gaze steady.

This was the second time I heard him say that, and I couldn't stop the smile that spread across my face. But as the reality of his words sank in, a flicker of fear ran through me this was real, and that scared me.

I turned my gaze, my smile slipping as my heart raced. What if I was misreading this? What if he was just being nice? My thoughts tangled, and the crowd seemed to close in on me, the noise growing louder and more intense.

Just as I felt myself sinking, Nick reached out and took my hand. The warmth of his touch was immediate, grounding me in the present. His thumb gently brushed against the back of my hand, and I looked up to find his eyes still on me.

"Shall we go somewhere quieter?" he asked, his voice soft yet firm, offering me an escape.

I hesitated for a moment, my mind still reeling, but the gentle pressure of his hand, the way his fingers intertwined with mine, made the decision for me. I nodded, feeling a wave of relief wash over me as I let him lead the way.

As we moved away from the noise, the tension in my chest began to ease. Nick glanced back at me with a playful smile, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

"You want to race?" he teased, the challenge evident in his voice.

I couldn’t help but grin back at him. "You want to race me?" I repeated, already taking a quick step forward to get a head start, my laughter bubbling up as I broke into a run.

"Come on!" I called out over my shoulder, the thrill of the chase energizing my every step.

"Wait, stop!" he shouted, his voice tinged with both surprise and amusement as he sprinted after me, his footsteps echoing up the stairs.

"Unfair, you got a head start," he called out, his mock outrage only making me laugh harder.

"I'm dying!" Nick shouted, his voice breathless yet filled with laughter. I couldn’t believe it the star of the rugby team, gasping and trailing behind me in a race. The thought sent another burst of giggles through me as I glanced back to see him trying to catch up, his grin just as wide as mine.

"Am I hearing an old man complaining?" I teased, slowing down just a bit, but not enough to let him close the gap completely. The sight of Nick, usually so composed and confident, now playfully struggling to keep up, was a rare and delightful reversal that made me wish that we could run just a little while longer.

As we finally reached the top of the stairs, our breath still catching, pushing open the doors

We stepped inside, and I felt my breath catch again, but this time for an entirely different reason.

The grand ballroom before us was stunning. The ceiling reached up high, covered with detailed paintings, their colors bright even in the soft light of the chandeliers that looked like stars. The walls were lined with tall mirrors in fancy frames, reflecting the golden light and making the room feel even bigger.

Nick let out a low whistle, clearly as awestruck as I was. "Wow," he breathed, his voice echoing slightly in the vast space.

Nick shaking his head in disbelief. "Jesus, I knew Harry was rich, but this hotel must have cost him a fuck ton of money," he muttered, his tone a mix of awe and amusement.

I couldn’t help but laugh, the sound echoing softly in the grand room. "No kidding," I replied, glancing around at the opulence surrounding us. "I feel like this place matches his ego big and obnoxious."

Nick snorted, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Yeah, it’s like he’s trying to outdo himself every time. Next thing you know, he’ll be renting out the Eiffel Tower"

I grinned, imagining the absurdity of it. I found a spot against the wall and sank down, admiring the shimmering lights and grandeur of the room. Nick settled beside me, his gaze following mine, but my thoughts were stuck on that moment from earlier. The way he looked at me, the way he said he’d rather hang out with me I couldn’t shake it. It felt like I was becoming delusional, this constant flutter of hope mixed with doubt. I just needed to know, one way or another, so I could either put this silly crush to rest.

"So..." I started, trying to sound casual, but the slight tremor in my voice betrayed me. "Was Harry being serious? Do you like Tara?"

The words felt heavy as they left my mouth, like they were dragging something deeper out into the open. I didn’t know if I was ready to hear the answer, but I had to ask.

Nick's eyes practically bulged out of their sockets. "What? No! No, definitely not," he blurted out, his voice rising in pitch with each word. The intensity of his reaction caught me off guard, making me question why I’d ever worried in the first place.

There was an awkward silence that hung in the air, thick and heavy. I fidgeted with my hands, suddenly hyper-aware of the tension between us.

"Uh… So… you don't have a crush on anyone at the moment?" I asked, trying to keep my tone casual, though my heart was pounding in my chest. I forced myself to meet his gaze, hoping to find some clue in his expression.

He looked away from my gaze, his eyes shifting to the glimmering chandeliers above us. "Well, I didn't say that," he murmured, a hint of something unspoken lingering in his voice.

"Oh," I managed to say, though the disappointment in my voice was unmistakable. It felt as if the air had thickened, the silence resuming its heavy presence as if it had never left. The excitement and playfulness from earlier faded, leaving behind a quietness that neither of us seemed to know how to break.

I broke the quiet first, curiosity tinged with a hint of nervousness. “So, what’s she like, then?”

Nick’s eyes flickered up to meet mine, a trace of uncertainty shadowing his face. “You’re just going to assume they’re a ‘she’?”

“Oh,” I said, my voice softening with realization. “Are they… are they not a girl?”

He hesitated, his gaze drifting to the elegant patterns on the floor. “Um…”

I leaned in slightly, trying to read his expression. “Would you go out with someone who wasn’t a girl?”

Nick’s lips twisted into a thoughtful frown. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

I pressed on gently, my heart pounding. “Would you kiss someone who wasn’t a girl?”

He met my eyes again, his expression a mix of confusion and vulnerability. “I think… I think I might. But I’m not entirely sure yet.”

I nodded in understanding, my mind processing Nick's words. I was genuinely touched that he trusted me enough to share this, but the relief I expected didn’t quite come. Instead, a mix of embrassement and lingering dread churned inside me. The fear of complicating things or making him uncomfortable gnawed at me, my feelings for him never leaving.

“But I wouldn’t mind going out with a girl,” he said, his voice steady but revealing a hint of uncertainty. My head snapped up, meeting his eyes.

He continued, “I wouldn’t mind kissing a girl either.” His eyes searched mine, looking for a reaction. I didn’t know what to say. I turned to him, the question on the tip of my tongue, but the words wouldn’t come out.

His hand was so close to mine, just an inch apart; I could practically feel his warmth. The proximity made it hard to think straight, each moment stretching longer as I struggled to keep my composure. Our fingers were touching, and neither of us pulled away.

Nick glanced down at our intertwined fingers, his gaze lingering on them. He swallowed hard, his nervousness palpable. I took a deep breath, gathering my courage, and finally asked,

“Would you kiss me?”

Nick leaned in closer, tightening his hold on my hand. His voice was soft but steady. “Yeah,” he said, his eyes locked onto mine.

The distance between us shrinking until it was almost nothing. His lips hovered near mine, and I could feel his breath, warm and soft, tickling my skin. My heart raced, a wild, fluttery feeling in my chest as I waited, anticipation buzzing in the air around us.

His lips met mine in a sweet, delicate kiss that sent a rush of warmth through me. It was soft and tentative, like he was savoring every second. My senses where filled with his signature scent, the one that I have missed so much. The familiarity of it made my heart ache in the best way, and I found myself melting into the kiss, wanting to hold onto this moment forever.

Pulling away slowing we looked away from each other, I could hardly believe it Nick Nelson had just kissed me. I’d just had my first kiss… and I liked it.

Really liked it

I glanced over at him, my heart still racing, but he was already looking at me, his eyes soft and searching, as if he was trying to gauge my reaction. The realization that this moment was real, that it had actually happened, made my heart swell with something indescribable.

Without thinking, I reached out, my hand finding the back of his neck, and pulled him closer. I kissed him deeply, pouring everything I was feeling into that moment. He responded by pulling me in tighter, his arms wrapping around me as if he didn’t want to let go, the intensity of the kiss growing with every second. It was as if all the emotions we had been holding back finally found their release in that one, perfect moment.

I could hardly breathe when we finally pulled apart. Staring at him, I just couldn't look away.

"Are you okay?" I asked softly, my voice barely above a whisper.

"1..." he began to say, but was cut off by the sound of Harry's voice echoing down the hallway.

"Nick, are you here?" Harry called out, his voice drawing closer. Nick's body tensed instantly, the warmth between us replaced by a sudden rush of panic.

"I just want to talk, mate," Harry's voice came closer, more insistent.

Nick pulled away immediately, standing up with a look of sheer panic. He glanced anxiously at the door, his body flinching at each echo of footsteps in the hallway.

"Why are you hiding?!" Harry's voice called out, growing louder and more frustrated.

Nick's gaze was locked on the door, his anxiety clear. Without a word, he took a final, fleeting glance at me an expression of regret or maybe apology flitting across his face. Then, he bolted out, disappearing through the door just as Harry's footsteps grew closer.

The sudden silence that followed was deafening. I sat there, trying to process what had just happened. The kiss had been amazing, but now it felt like a distant, shattered dream.

I felt confused, the warmth of the kiss now gone. My mind was filled with unanswered questions and a sudden ache. It felt like the ground had moved under me, leaving me with just the memory of his touch.

As I tried to steady my breath, my phone vibrated in my pocket. Glancing at the screen, I saw multiple messages from Charlie asking where I was and letting me know that his dad had arrived.

Banging my head gently against the wall, I couldn’t believe how quickly the night had gone from one of the most memorable to one of the worst.

Part 7 Link Here: https://www.tumblr.com/cutecurly-hair/763787688625192960/hearts-unleashed-part-7?source=share

[si1verghosts]

you and me found love (lost under the shade)

re4r leon s. kennedy x fem reader (no use of y/n)

wc: 3.3k

18+ | cw: mentions of drinking, smoking, sex | tw: illusions to suicidal thoughts; author's general preoccupation with death and dying

read on ao3

title: falling asleep on a stranger by pierce the veil | art: taft bridge under the rain [#127] by carmonamedina

a/n: i honestly don't know if i am doing this whole tagging thing right idk how to tag on here so sorry if i missed anything.... anyways, this is the first thing i've managed to finish in months - i did not imagine the first leon fic i'd actually post would be reader insert but here we are!! i hope u enjoy :D

not beta read - all mistakes my own or done purposely due to my general disrespect for the grammatical conventions of the english language.

i do not own leon, yadda yadda, please don't sue me <3

please do not use my work to train any sort of AI chat bot and/or writing generator.

-----

"I can't be what you want," Leon had said, voice even. "Maybe you should try to find someone else; someone who can… be around."

Someone who can give you a straight answer. Someone who doesn't come home bloodied and bruised and can't tell you why. Someone who doesn't make you feel like it's all just a lie. 

You had never heeded any of Leon's suggestions before - "You should go," he had whispered after that first night, and the second, and the third - but you wish you had; so you give it a shot now. 

You let your friend set you up with the guy in accounting at her job she had been telling you about for months. "And get this - he always wears a tie bar! He just seems so put together," she had raved to you over drinks the weekend prior.

Accounting, tie bar, put together. Nice, neat, safe. 

You had shrugged, "give him my number."

He's waiting for you outside the bar when you arrive, jogs over when he notices you approaching, holding his umbrella out over you. It's unnecessary - the cold precipitation is hardly a mist, barely coating the strands of your hair. "You look beautiful," he smiles. It feels rehearsed, platitudinous. You thank him, letting him guide you inside. 

His hand brushes your arm as he helps you out of your jacket, skin soft. You pull away with the shock of it, covering with a small wave of beckoning. He falls in behind you as you traverse the familiar path through the room to your usual spot, settling in before he can manage to make a show out of pulling out your chair.

Same table, different seat; back against the wall - it's a whole new perspective. No longer focused solely on the person across from you, it's as if the whole world falls into your line of sight. It suddenly makes sense why you always found it so difficult to hold on to Leon's attention.

He slinks away to acquire your requested vodka soda from the bar. You pick at your nails until your fingers shake, shifting to look out the windows. The rain has picked up, pelting the glass and obscuring the view. You long for your car and the pack of menthols tucked away in the glove box, nobody to quit for now. 

He returns with your drinks, water for himself - "trying to cut back on carbs, you know? I've been making real progress with my lifts lately." 

"That's great," you smile. 

He leans in, beginning to chatter away excitedly about weights and protein and bicycles and Wall Street. His cologne reeks of business school, of polo shirts and white picket fences and 2.5 kids. You hope you are nodding at all the right moments. His tie bar catches the light of the Budweiser sign hanging behind you, silver glinting red, as if informing you you aren't.

It's hard, much harder than it reasonably should be but you've forgotten how to do this. Leon and you hardly spoke; the silence was easier - until it grew violent from your overreliance. 

You catch the ring of the doorbell over the drone of his voice, a familiar shape of blonde hair and brown leather entering your peripheral vision. You turn, a sick sense of satisfaction slithering up your spine. 

Shoulders hunched and hands shoved deep in his pockets, he shakes off the water droplets clinging to his hair like a dog. He picks his head up, blue eyes and dark circles meet your gaze almost immediately.

You raise a brow, I took your advice; happy?

He spins around, setting the bell off again as he slips out the door. 

"I'm sorry," you interrupt your date, who had been entertaining himself, seemingly never even recognizing your shift in attention. "I'll be right back." 

You are out the door a second later, shoving your arms back into the coat you thankfully remembered to grab, shielding your skin from the rain clouding your vision. Blinking away the droplets from your lashes, you spot Leon making his way down the sidewalk and take off after him, catching up as he nears the corner. 

You call to him, voice near enough to stop him, but only for a moment. "Go back inside," he throws over his shoulder, continuing forward.

You want to reach out and grab him, make him turn to look at you, but his shoulders are set in a tense line. Your touch is sure to set him off like a slingshot. 

Steeling yourself, you dart around him, blocking his path. You find yourself in front of him without any idea of what to say. You gape at him stupidly, chest heaving from the exertion of chasing him down; maybe you should've asked what's-his-name for a good gym recommendation before you ran off.

Leon entertains you for a moment before he huffs, eyes narrowing, "what are you doing?"

It's an excellent question - one you had never bothered to stop and ask yourself. 

What are you doing? 

Why did you agree to go for drinks? Why had you put on the dress Leon had carefully unzipped and let pool around your ankles just a few weeks ago? Why had you asked Mr. Tie Bar to meet you at the bar you knew Leon always popped into after work? 

Fuck. 

You swallow harshly, "trying." 

"Trying?" Leon reiterates, almost laughing. "And what is it that you are trying?"

Normal. To get over you. To make you mad. Honesty. To make you look at me. To make you want me like I want you. Safety. To hurt you. To get you to say something, anything. Trust. To get you to make me stay. To get you to stay. 

You feel yourself frown, the familiar pressure of tears building behind your nose. You try to swallow the feeling but it just mixes with the venom stuck in your throat, bubbling back up after mutating into a bitter twinge of anger. "What the hell does it look like, Leon? You told me to try to find someone else - that's what I'm trying."

He rocks back on his heels, crossing his arms. "Well, it doesn't really seem to be working out, does it?" 

"It was going great, actually." You smile, hoping it's not as hollow as you feel. 

"Oh, yeah?" He cocks a brow, lips pulling into a sly smirk. "Then why are you out here with me?

"You," you huff, at a loss. His words seem to be coming easier than ever while you choke on every one. You shrug, "You looked upset when you left."

"And I'm sure that's exactly what you wanted, right?" His smirk stretches into an acetous grin. "Came to relish in the tears, huh? Sorry to disappoint." He moves to brush by you, but you plant yourself in his path once again. 

"I can't believe-" you start, but stop short. Because you can believe he'd think of you that way - you'd never given him a reason to think otherwise. 

You think back to the silence that had made its home between the two of you, realizing you had used it as a confidant, letting it absorb everything you should've given to Leon instead. 

"I just wanted to check on you, see how you are doing." Your voice comes out as small as you feel under the weight of Leon's gaze. It's ironic - all this time you just wanted him to look at you, and now you wish he'd turn his eyes anywhere else. 

He snorts, short and irascibly, "I don't need you worrying about me."

"I know you don't, Leon," you throw your hands out, rainwater flicking off your skin with your exasperation. "You've made that very clear. But I can't help it - I'm going to anyways." 

"You shouldn't."

"Why not?" You half-yell, half-whine. You cringe at the sound, feeling slightly delirious; freezing cold and nearly begging him to let you care. 

 "Because you can do better." His voice is even once again, feelings stacked neatly away and locked up tight. 

"You don't get to decide that for me," you spit, ears ringing with the echo of your too-loud voice. 

"Yeah," he nods. "I do." 

He steps around you again, intending to disappear down the side street. But this time you grab him, fingers latching onto the slippery leather of his jacket, his arm as tense as a bowstring under your grip. 

"Let me go," he requests without turning to look at you, voice still even, even, even. It's a courtesy, he could easily pull free - but you are sick of his kindness, his courtesies; that's how you ended up here. You don't want them anymore.

"Make me." 

"Let me go," he repeats, slower and thicker. 

"No." If you want me gone, you'll have to force me. You don't say it, but you know he got the message when his shoulders slump, fight draining out of him all at once. 

With the thrill of victory that ripples through you, you make the mistake of loosening your hold on his jacket. He seizes the opportunity, twisting your arm and grabbing you by the bicep, pulling you close. He is running hot despite the chill of the rain, you have to force yourself not to relax into his heat. 

A moment passes, and then another. Neither of you move. The precipitation falls in sheets around you. You can't bring yourself to care. 

Your gaze slides from his chest to his neck to his jaw, backtracking the path of a stray raindrop. You chance a glance at his eyes, finding they are already on you, steely blue shimmering with the light of the streetlamp behind you. 

You love him. 

You wish the ground would crack open, allowing you to freefall straight down to hell. You imagine that would feel better - less painful - than this. 

You love him, and your skin burns with the feeling of it. You want to throw up. You want to kiss him. You want to pound your fists against his chest, curse him for doing this to you. 

You settle for allowing a sob to escape your throat. 

He releases you from his hold instantly at the sound. You scramble to grip his jacket to keep yourself upright - it's pitiful, the teeth of the zipper biting into the skin of your hands. The sharp pain comes as a tether, gifting you the space to ground yourself, to shove the tears back down. 

"I'm sorry," he whispers, tight and clipped. "I didn't mean to-"

"No," you cut him off, voice rough, grating. "It wasn't. You didn't hurt me."

"Okay," he mutters. 

You laugh. You love him and you can't help but laugh, sinking into the insanity of it. 

You feel him start to stiffen again, unsure. The feeling of his discomfort building under your fingers forces you back into yourself, realizing where you are, that you've been causing a scene on the corner down the block from his apartment. 

You release him, but you don't step away, tilting your head just enough to take in the sight of him - parted lips and a handful of freckles, blonde hair tinted green by the neon sign over the entrance of the convenience store a few feet away. 

"I'm sorry," you croak out, drifting back; wishing the rain would melt you down, suck you into the storm drain. That's the only thing that could pull you from him, you think; swirling down the gutters with the cigarette butts and the fallen cherry blossoms until you're laid to rest at the bottom of the Potomac. 

His nose twitches. "For what?"

That I can't find someone else, can't force myself away from you.

That I love you, but can't tell you.  

"For," you throw your hands out, weaker than before. "All of it."

He nods, "It's okay."

You don't want it to be, but you suddenly feel exhausted. Too tired to fight, to pull any more truths from him. 

"Take me home?" You request, you plead. 

He nods again, holding his hand out to you. "Yeah."

You intertwine your fingers with his own, the roughness of his callouses and scars soothing in their familiarity. 

The walk to his place is short. You don't bother trying to shake off the water before entering, leaving a trail of raindrops up the stairwell, down the hall, through his front door, across his apartment to the tiled floor of his bathroom. 

He reaches into the shower, cranking the hot water, allowing the stream to heat up as he helps you out of your wet clothes. He removes the drenched fabric piece by piece - jacket first, then your dress, unzipping it with even more care than the previous time. It doesn't slip off with the same ease, but his gentle fingers pull it from your skin until it falls away. He crouches to undo your shoes, allowing you to step out of them before reaching up and rolling your nylons, guiding them down your legs. 

He moves to do the same with your underwear, fingers resting on the waistband as he glances up to you, silently asking your permission even though he already has it, always will. There's no heat behind his actions, but the tenderness sears your skin all the same. You nod, a low ache settling into the center of your chest as he slides them off you before standing. You unclasp your bra; he doesn't comment on the matching set.

The steam of the boiling shower envelops you as you undress him in turn. You struggle with his belt buckle, stiff fingers uncooperative. He takes over and you drop to your knees to untie the laces of his boots, finding them mercifully secured with single-knots. You make quick work of them and he reaches down to help you up, moving you out of the way before he kicks them off. 

You assist him in pulling his shirt over his head, peeling the cotton away from his skin. You unbutton his jeans as he removes the clips from your hair, wet strands falling limply in front of your eyes. 

"Go ahead and get in, I'll go throw this stuff in the wash." His voice is mellifluous, sickeningly soft. 

It makes you feel like a kid, incompetent and helpless. You hate him for it. You hate yourself for twisting his kindness into something dark and disgusting. 

"I can help," you offer, because that's all you can do; already leaning down to collect your things. "You have to hang the jacket, it's-"

"Wool. I know," his hand brushes your back lightly, "it's okay. I'll be right back."

You straighten up, allowing him to guide you across the bathroom and help you into the tub. You slowly ease your way under the hot stream as he slides the shower curtain closed. 

You watch the shape of him through the cloudy plastic, shucking off his jeans and pulling off his socks. The sobs you had just barely choked down twice before make another escape attempt, clawing at your throat as you watch his shadow collect your clothes and move down the hall. 

You shut your eyes against the sudden emptiness of the room, against the tears and the silence and the panic; against the loathing and inferiority. You take the coward's way out, turning away from it all to hold your face up to the showerhead. 

He returns quickly, rustling around for a moment before slipping into the tub behind you. His presence awards you the bravery you needed to crack open your eyes, to clear your throat. "You're wrong, you know."

Exhaustion overshadows his amusement as he hums in question, "about what?"

Picking your hand up, you reach out slowly to slide your fingers along his collarbone, circle the puckered scar on his shoulder. "That I can find someone better." 

He scoffs, dropping his head, hair fluttering down to obscure his face. 

You move your hand to his neck, thumbing his jaw. "If anything, it's me who doesn't deserve you, Leon." 

He shakes his head, but you ignore the action, continuing before he can protest. "Nobody can take care of me like you do - not even myself. I'm sorry" - for needing you, for burdening you; for loving you even though I'm unworthy of it - "for pushing you. I understand there are things you can't share, but I want whatever you can."

You sigh, shifting your hand at his neck to pull him to you; he follows you easily, achingly. "Even if it's just this." 

He nods minutely, hooking his arms over your hips and resting his forehead on yours. Answer delivered on a breath that floats across your lips, "alright." 

You remain in his arms, his agreement echoing in your mind in time with the beat of your heart in your chest. Seconds morph into minutes, only moving when the water begins to grow cold. 

You wash first, your shampoo and conditioner still on the rack next to his own. Leaving him under the stream, you make your way to his room after wrapping yourself in one of the towels he'd brought into the bathroom. 

Home. You had asked him to take you home and he brought you here, despite your own place being just a few blocks further in the opposite direction of his from the corner you had been on. But his assumption was right; this - he - was home to you.  

The emptiness of his apartment was unsettling at first, but it quickly grew comforting - no regrets staining the carpet; no photos on the dresser of you as a girl you don't remember being. Here you could be untethered from the past you didn't want; white walls graciously offering a clean slate, even if you didn't deserve it, didn't earn it. 

There is a shirt of his waiting on the bed for you, a pair of your pajama pants in the drawer next to his. Your stomach turns at the sight - no wonder he had tried to push you away; you had subconsciously settled into his space, his closet and his bed. 

Your mug in the sink, your pills behind the mirror - the reckless domesticity of it all is startling, terrifying. He had given you an inch and you had taken a mile, too eager for the chance to be something new. 

You pull on the clothes, making your way towards the balcony, a wave of nausea rolling through you under the soft cotton. Outside, it's still raining, translucent ropes sluicing off the overhang of the roof. 

You almost immediately regret stepping outside, feeling as if it's a betrayal of the care Leon took to get you warm; but you needed it. The chill of the air forces your thoughts to line up, to wait to be addressed one by one.

His hand leading you home, your wool coat hung to dry, his shirt waiting on the bed for you to occupy - each act a silent invitation; the realization stirs inside you, grips your collarbones from the inside. 

Could it be…?

You should ask him, but you've asked for more than enough tonight. 

He slides open the glass door, sweatpants low on his hips; the lamp on his nightstand illuminates him from behind, feathering out all his sharp edges. Maybe it's not love; maybe it's just lust, desire - a need so great it's all-consuming. You have no point of comparison to use as a frame of reference, to assist in finding the distinction. 

"I was away for a few days, there's not much in the fridge. Is ramen alright or do you want to order something?" He asks and it's love, you are suddenly sure of it. 

You turn; the sight of Leon in the buttery glow of the bedroom acting as a beacon, guiding you through the terror. "Ramen is fine."

[drpeppertummy]

i took like 7 breaks between writing all of 2.3 pages so this is a little scrunchy but What Ever thats not my problem

[post-stuffing stuffing, clothing-based discomfort]

The sweet old woman with the little terrier had been absolutely mortified, having learned only after an unwelcome hand on Marsha's belly and a question about her due date that she wasn't actually pregnant. Marsha hadn't been half as embarrassed; she could hardly blame the lady anyway. She was a tiny thing, and the big hoagie she'd eaten not long ago pushed her tummy out taut against her unforgiving scrub top.

She was still comically bloated when a coworker asked if she wanted anything from the burger joint down the road. He'd offered to go pick up some lunch, and so far, Marsha was just about the only person who hadn't put in an order yet. Despite her full belly, the temptation was strong.

"Oh, I shouldn't," she said reluctantly, placing a hand on her round tummy, but she was swayed by the friendly receptionist's knowing smile. "Oh, shoot, alright. Maybe just a thing of fries." She felt a little gurgle of protest deep in her stomach, but she dug her wallet out of her purse and handed him a five. The burger joint had some of the best fries she'd ever tasted, and she knew she'd regret saying no if she had to spend the rest of the day surrounded by the enticing smell of everyone else's lunch.

By the time Teddy came stumbling back into the lobby, struggling to see over the armful of bags he was juggling, Marsha had worked up enough of an appetite holding down a furious cat that she didn't feel quite so guilty about asking for the fries anymore. She was still plenty stuffed from her early lunch, but she'd earned those fries, and she'd be damned if she wasn't going to enjoy them. Finally having a chance for a break, she sat down and tore the bag open.

The fries went easily into Marsha's mouth, but, given the lack of space, entering her stomach was more of a challenge. The lemon water she was sipping along with them didn't help; it was refreshing, but it filled her up just as quickly. She leaned back in the chair with a sigh, resting a hand on her belly. It poked out absurdly, testing the strength of the utterly stretchless material straining over the taut curve. Another tech gave her an amused look as she passed by.

"Boy, your belly's gonna be sore later," she chuckled, giving her side a friendly pat. Marsha shot her a look of playful annoyance.

As a matter of fact, her belly was feeling plenty sore already. She just barely managed to finish off the fries, but it was too much, and her stomach felt strained and heavy. The now far-too-tight scrub top squeezing her tightly around the middle wasn't helping. Her belly let out a strangled gurgle as it worked against the carb-heavy meal-and-a-half, and she rested a hand on it as she tried to muster up the energy to get back to work.

Fortunately, the end of Marsha's shift was near, and it wasn't long before she was on her way out, taking a few playful belly pats from the amused receptionists as she left. She was surprised to find as she got into the car that her tummy was nearly bumping into the steering wheel. With a heavy sigh, she buckled up--the hug of the seatbelt was an unwelcome pressure on her too-full tummy--and headed off to Max's house.

Ordinarily, she might have stopped at home first to get changed, but she worried that she'd sit down and not want to get back up again, and that wasn't the plan. She wanted to spend the evening with her sweethearts--or, more accurately, her sweetheart and her asshole--and if she had to do it in her uncomfortably restrictive scrubs, she supposed she could survive. It would only make the act of changing later on feel even better.

Marsha was greeted upon entering by the smell of dinner cooking and Alfie's arm around her waist. Her tummy rumbled unhappily as it was pressed up against his side, and he looked down, surprised.

"Hey, someone's been eatin' good," he chuckled, patting her belly. "You gonna be hungry for dinner or what?"

"Ugh, don't squeeze me," she groaned, plucking his arm away. "You guys might have to eat without me. I'll just be here for moral support." Alfie laughed.

"Hey, the way things are goin' in there, I think we're gonna need it. He's been wrestling with this fish for half an hour."

"Oh, brother," laughed Marsha. She followed Alfie to the kitchen, adjusting the waist of her pants to sit under the bulging curve of her belly as she did, leaving just enough lower belly peeking out for her mouthy little partner to grab. Max, who was struggling to hack the skin away from a hunk of fish, leaned down to peck her on the cheek.

"Sheesh, why didn't you get changed before you came over?" Alfie's fingers rubbed against the harsh indentation her tight pants had left around her middle, and he winced sympathetically.

"Didn't feel like it. If I went home first I probably wouldn't have been able to make myself go back out."

"Alright, fair. You look like you're feelin' pretty beached," he said, still holding her round belly. "Gosh, this outfit's tight! I don't know how you can stand wearin' scrubs all day. I think I'd die."

"Let me tell you, it is rough," she laughed. "I think someone's gonna have to cut me out of this shirt."

"I'd say borrow some pants from Max, but I don't think anybody's gettin' into those," grinned Alfie, giving Max a teasing squeeze around the waist.

"Oh, Alfie, you leave that poor old stringbean alone," Marsha scolded playfully. "Why don't you trade with me, huh? I bet we're about the same size."

"No way!"

"Some chivalrous boyfriend you are! Come on, you'd look cute! Pleeease?" She gave him her best puppy eyes, and he let out a dramatic sigh.

"Fine."

The two swapped pants, and Marsha opted to leave Alfie's raggedy old jeans unbuttoned. Not caring about appearances, she also pulled her too-tight top up under her chest, leaving her round belly on full display. For Alfie, that was compensation enough for having to wear the uncomfortable scrub pants. Her tummy no longer compressed by the snug outfit, Marsha found that she actually had a little room for dinner after all.

[anastasiaskarsgard]

Could you do a one shot where the reader tries to rob the marquis de gramont’s house only for that to go wrong and now the reader is being interrogated.

You woke to a shrill bell, in a room you didn’t remember. Trying to get your bearings, you came to the realization that you had no memory of this place, and you were only wearing a pair of panties.

A screaming headache hit you as hard as the fact that they weren’t even your panties. Plum purple panties, with intricate lace and embroidered roses, looked far more delicate than anything you’d ever buy.

Scanning what you could see of the dimly lit room you were in, it became painfully obvious it was some sort of cell by the metal door and lack of any windows. The only piece of furniture, was a surprisingly ornate velvet chaise you were presently handcuffed to.

Frantically trying to recall how you ended up topless, in someone else’s underwear, in a dimly lit prison cell with no windows, you felt a panic attack swiftly approaching when you found no answers.

The last thing you could recall, was telling your twin sister you’d meet her in your shared suite, as soon as you swam a few more laps. You were in Paris for fashion week in a few days, and were very sought after by all the designers. Your sister ate a very strict restricted diet, while you were a bit more lax and liked food. Unfortunately that meant you had to work out to make up for the extra calories. You actually somewhat enjoyed exercise, and staying active, while your sister hated it. Still, you were amazed at your sisters restraint when it came to food. She never ate any carbs, any sugar, any processed foods, any refined grains, and even refused starchy vegetables and high sugar fruits. She also only ever drank water. Ever.

Maybe that was how you ended up here. Now that you were thinking about it, you had accepted a Mimosa from a fellow guest, but it’d been brought to you by a waitress and you hadn’t even finished it.

You hadn’t sensed any danger or nefarious intentions towards yourself or your sister, and had been recommended the resort by several fellow models and colleagues. You hoped your sister was at least okay.

Suddenly, the door swung open to reveal a tall well dressed man, glowering down at you.

Never one to be intimidated, even with the obvious enormous vulnerabilities you currently had, and no plan whatsoever, you were not about to be polite.

“Who the FUCK are you motherfucker, and WHERE ARE MY FUCKING CLOTHES?” You shouted towards the end. “And what the fuck is this shit?” You asked as you pointed to your wrist, cuffed to the sofa. “This is coming off RIGHT NOW and I’m leaving!”

The man stood there with the same rude facial expression, not responding or reacting to anything you said. Breathing hard, you watched and listened for a few seconds, before closing your eyes, and screaming at the top of your lungs, for as long as your lungs would allow.

Taking a deep breath, preparing to unleash another one, you peeked at your captor and froze your breath to see he was smiling at you. Fucking smiling!

You saw red. “What ARE YOU SMILING ABOUT? Come over here and I’ll give you something to smile about you fucking nut!” You shrieked.

“Sssshhhh!” He placed a finger on his full lips, shooshing you. “How will you know how to win the game, unless you listen to the rules?”

That was it. You were at a whole new level of pissed. You were so angry at the mere suggestion of this fucked up situation, being some weird game, it didn’t even occur to you, that you should probably be frightened. Maybe even terrified, but all you knew was you were going to kick this guys Ass. “Let. Me. Go. Now.”

“What? So you can sneak out again like you did last night? And after I had forgiven you for leaving the party and going through my personal things?” He shook his head amusedly. “You are going to tell me, exactly who hired you, and maybe I won’t kill you.”

Well shit.

Last night your sister had said she was going to bed early and you’d gone out and met up with friends. Could she have gone out after you left and tried to rob this hot guy? Didn’t sound possible, but here you are in a dungeon or something.

“Well? How hard do you want this to be?” He snapped.

“Okay hear me out. I’m a twin and I never went to anyone’s house yesterday so you must be looking for my sister. This really doesn’t sound like her type of deal but I’m always telling her she needs to go out and live a little.” Suddenly feeling overwhelmed, you laid back on the chaise and shut your eyes. “We are successful models here for fashion week, so I seriously doubt she was trying to jack you. She never steals anything so maybe she was just being nosy.”

Several minutes passed before you heard the man approach you and undo your handcuffed wrist. You opened your eyes to look at him and were stunned with how beautiful this man was. He glanced down at you, before standing to his full height and walking out of the room.

Jumping up, you quickly checked to see if the door was unlocked. Unsurprised that it was, you started to pace back and forth.

“CAN I AT LEAST HAVE SOME CLOTHES??!!?” You shouted.

Fully expecting to be ignored, you were surprised when the door swung open to reveal a woman holding out a couture looking dress on a hanger, “put this on. The Marquis wishes for you to join him for brunch.”

Nodding dumbly, you took the dress, and slipped it over your head, all the while sizing up this woman for escape. While she looked fit, she was considerably smaller than you, and you were certain you could take her.

Just as you were about to attack her, the door opened again, revealing two huge security personnel.

There goes that plan. You thought to yourself.

One of the men placed heels down on the floor in front of you. You’d never seen them before, but they fit, so you weren’t complaining.

Silently following after the woman, tailed by the two men, you couldn’t help but gape at your surroundings. While you imagined the place with a dungeon, must be fancy, you weren’t prepared for the level of opulence, and immense size of wherever this was.

Artwork that you’d studied in college, hung on the walls, and furniture you only saw in museums and magazines, surrounded you.

After walking for several minutes, you came to a dining area set in a sunroom. On the table was several breakfast and fruit options, and your stomach rumbled at the sight.

“Sit down. The Marquis will join you shortly. Do not try to escape, your guard detail is just outside the door, and it’s better not to upset my master.” The woman stated in a clipped tone, before exiting the room.

Taking a seat, you scanned around the room to see if any of the windows appeared to open. Deciding they likely did not, and even if they did, the wall surrounding the property, was so far away, you could barely even see it. This seemed like the type of place that had big scary Dobermans or something.

Turning your attention to the food, you sniffed it trying to determine if it was poisoned. Realizing you had no idea how to determine if something has been poisoned, you just picked up a piece of melon, and nibbled on it.

“Isn’t it rude to eat before everyone has arrived?” The Marquis asked as he walked in the room.

“Not as rude as handcuffing a woman to a chair in your dungeon in someone else’s underpants,” you replied cheekily.

Smirking and looking down, he nodded his head a bit before taking a seat. Turning his striking green eyes to you, he took in your appearance very deliberately. “I checked and you are in fact a twin.”

“Ding ding ding! Get this man a prize!”

The Marquis genuinely laughed, before leaning forward and pursing his plush lips. “How well do you know your sister? Are you two close?”

You picked up another piece of fruit and took a bite, maintaining eye contact with the man across from you. You weren’t sure where he was going with this, but you couldn’t see any harm answering questions, that a quick scan of your social media accounts would reveal the answers to.

“She’s the strait laced, conservative, boring version of me, with the self control of a monk, is what I would have said if you asked me yesterday. Today… I am torn between being mad at her, and proud of her.”

“Why proud?”

“Because look at you! Look at this place! You’ve even got some snobby title to boot, and she bagged you. Then she ghosted you, and obviously hurt your ego. She’s never this exciting.” You answered honestly.

“You find this behavior exciting? Flirting with a man, only to look through his belongings while he showers, and exit before he returns? This is acceptable behavior?” He asked indignantly.

Inwardly you were screaming. Your sister NEVER had one night stands. You have had a few and every time she gave you so much shit over it. Going so far as to tell friends and family about them, in an effort to shame you or something. It never worked, but it was irritating that she tried, and come to find out she was doing it too! You absolutely were going to give her an earful.

“Listen buddy, I’m honestly sorry that she did this to you. You’re obviously not used to rejection, and judging by how rich and important you must be, I can see where her looking through your stuff seems nefarious, but I guarantee you, no one hired her. She probably was just kinda tripping that she just had sex with some random gorgeous French guy and was curious, or she hella thought a guy like you must have a girlfriend so she was looking for clues. Now either she found some female items in your stuff and decided to leave, or she was just embarrassed about being a hoe bag, when she’s normally the biggest prude in America.” You leaned across the table and grabbed a pastry, “you’re not going to eat?”

He frowned at you, looking as though he was going to deny you, but seemed to change his mind and grabbed a few raspberries. Popping them in his mouth, he stared off in the distance contemplating something. “We did not sleep together. I had to take a shower because a drunken idiot, knocked an entire tray of desserts into me.”

“Why was she in your room?”

“She came here with an associate of mine, but it was clear from when they arrived, she was not interested in him romantically. He became belligerent, ordering her to leave and calling her all sorts of names. I personally don’t like that sort of behavior, so I had him removed. I approached your sister to offer her a car to take her home, but somehow we ended up talking most of the night. Then the drunken idiot incident happened, and she didn’t want to be left alone with a bunch of strangers, so she asked if she could accompany me. I honestly thought she was going to attempt to seduce me, but no such luck. She just sat down in the receiving area of my personal living quarters. I actually didn’t even take very long, but when I came out she was gone. I assumed she went back to the party, but was informed by my personal security, she’d left out a side door into the night. They were able to track her back to your hotel, where I had them pick her up, but I suppose grabbed you. You see, I have some very dangerous enemies that use various tactics to get to me, and I thought your sister was sent to infiltrate my space and possibly take something, or leave some type of device. I enjoyed her company, so I may have overreacted and automatically assumed the worst in her, when maybe I just live in a world that has made me paranoid and cruel.”

“Wow.” You stated. “That’s a lot to unpack. Rich people problems I guess. You don’t seem like too bad of a guy, now that I’m wearing clothes and not in a dungeon. Fucking bat shit crazy response to a chick just trying to leave tho. Especially the somebody else’s underwear part. That was terrifying.”

He cocked his eyebrow and smirked cockily. “I’m how do you say… strategic. I apologize, and hope you can forgive me. I have a driver at the ready to take you wherever you need to go, and will remain available to you for your entire stay. I also insist you and your sister go on an all expense paid shopping spree, to wherever you like as an apology for how we became acquainted.”

“What if I said I want you to drive me around?” You asked playfully. You couldn’t believe you were seriously flirting with this guy, but he was too interesting to just leave behind. You knew he was only offering the driver and shopping spree to persuade you not to report him to the authorities. You were pretty sure, that even if you did report him, nothing would come from it. He was the kind of rich that was above the law. You didn’t know what a Marquis was, but it likely meant he was a respected member of society, and nobody would believe some random American model saying she got kidnapped by him. He probably had thousands of women willing to give a kidney to go on a date with him. He was likely on some European eligible bachelor list or stalked by the paparazzi everywhere he went. You really wished you had your phone to google him.

“You are being serious?” He asked incredulously.

You were a bit offended he seemed so shocked by the suggestion. Was it that he didn’t drive that made your request so unbelievable, or was it the prospect of spending time with you? Crossing your arms, you stared back at him expectantly.

Scoffing, he rose from his seat and began to pace back and forth across the room, periodically glancing your way, never breaking stride.

He finally came to a stop when the woman from before entered the room and approached him. Speaking to her in a low tone that you couldn’t quite make out, she looked over at you with a surprised look on her face, before bowing to the Marquis, and rushing out of the room.

Still waiting for an answer to your question, you kept your arms crossed and stared straight ahead, even when he walked up next to you.

He lightly chuckled, and combed his fingers through your hair affectionately. “Your mood swings are so extreme. It’s a good thing you are so beautiful, or you might be considered a brat.”

Snapping your head to look up at him, you stuck your tongue out at him, and had to really focus not to bust out laughing at the expression that appeared on his face.

What did you have to lose at this point? “No one has ever stuck their tongue out at you, have they?” You inquired, with a snarky grin plastered across your face.

He scoffed and turned his nose up at you, so you took the oppurtunity to stand up and start walking towards the exit. “Let’s get a move on your majesty. I’m probably already late, and not showing up will cost me a small fortune. I’m under contract.”

“I have too many obligations. I cannot cancel everything to be your personal chauffeur.”

Stopping dead in your tracks, you turned around slowly, and placed your hands on your hips. Do you really think you can kidnap an international model, and then just say oopsie and send her off with a random driver? Don’t answer that, I won’t like your answer. I don’t care if you’re the king of France, you have to give me a day to make this up to me. Understood?” You dropped your hands, and marched up to the impeccably dressed man, never breaking eye contact.

Stopping just centimeters from his face, you had to hand it to him; he never flinched. But if he thought you were gonna back down, he had another thing coming. Over your dead body.

Ever so slowly, he kissed each cheek with a lingering kiss on each. “Au revoir, une fille.”

Before he could back away, you grabbed his face and kissed him square on his lips, pressing your body against his.

Meanwhile in the security room:

the security on duty, several other security personnel, and the servants were watching this crazy girl interact with one of the scariest men in Europe.

“Do you think she could possibly be so stupid?” One of the security guards asked to no one in particular.

“She is an American.” Another replied.

“And a model.” One of the maids added.

“Why hasn’t he killed her? He’s never so patient with anyone. And the way she takes such liberties with his person. It’s unimaginable!” The valet that would be driving this girl if she survived long enough asked.

“I saw him with the sister last night as well and he was absolutely enthralled with her. I’ve never seen him speak to a woman so long. He likely wishes to get to her, and will use her to get the other.”

“I don’t envy them. It’s never a happy ending when the Marquis takes a personal interest in you.” The head of security stated.

“Maybe he will fall for her…”

The entire room broke out in an uproar of laughter. Wiping tears from his eyes, a huge burly bodyguard lumbered out of the room, making his way to find his boss. Maybe if he convinced her to leave, his boss wouldn’t kill her.

Knocking at the door, just in case their activities had progressed, he waited several minutes for a response but none came. Turning to go back to the security room, and enjoy the show that was likely taking place on the other side of those doors, he froze at the sound of them bursting open.

“The entire day is just not possible. The best I can do is the morning.” The Marquis said as he followed the bossy American.

“Guess I’ll just have to kidnap you then. Which way to your cars?” She asked, still walking down the hall like she knew where she was going.

“I’ll have one brought around.”

“No I want to pick which one. Lead the way your majesty!”

Every employee watching, could not believe their eyes when the Marquis de Gramont, did just that.

[lanitalay]

Before I Say Goodnight

Chapter 5

a/n: this one was fun for me. enjoy!!!

Other chapters

wordcount: 2.5k

“Good morning” you sit across the table from him “what’s for breakfast?” He picks up a piece of toast from his plate and flashes you a sleepy smile and says “anything you like”. Magic house, right. “In that case, I’d like a cinnamon roll, an omelet, hot chocolate and orange juice” placing your hands on the table as the list of food begins to appear in front of you. You half waited for Azriel to make a comment about your choice of breakfast but he only said “a cinnamon roll sounds really good right now” and then his own plate appeared. A giggle, an actual giggle, escaped your lips. Get a grip. “Cheers” you motion with your bun and he returns the gesture. “If Cassian sees me having simple carbs for breakfast he’ll make me run an extra ten miles at training tomorrow” his eyes have gone wide and it reminds you of the kid you used to babysit when you would take him to the ice cream shop on the way home from school. “The super fit general doesn’t like a sweet treat?” you ask between bites. “It’s not that he doesn’t like sweets but when he gets in his trainer mindset he becomes a pain in the ass” you snort “and I’m guessing you have a sweet tooth?” he nods once “it’s my only weakness” you roll your eyes and smile as you keep eating. Everything was delicious, you basically inhaled the cinnamon roll and hot chocolate. As you push those dishes away they vanish. This house freaking rules. You go to eat the omelet as Azriel asks “How did you find your room?” “Oh it’s beautiful and the bed is very comfy” he continues “did you sleep well?” You shake your head “well, once I fell asleep it was fine but I was up until late tossing and turning”. “I’m sure this has been difficult to process” you sip the orange juice, throat suddenly feeling dry “uhm, yeah it feels fake, all of this and last night was the first night I got the chance to think without being distracted or interrupted and… I was just overwhelmed” Azriel nodded and you jumped a little as you felt a cooling sensation against your cheek “sorry, they usually don’t bother people” he said and pulled his shadows away from you. You bring your hand up and notice the tear tracks. I must be dehydrated from all this crying. Lightly laughing you say “I don't even notice when I cry anymore, before I got here I don’t remember the last time I cried and I can’t seem to stop” another laugh slips as another shadow swipes the last falling tear. “I can’t even begin to understand how you feel, but if you want my opinion, I think you’ve been incredibly resilient”  he gets up from the table “I’ll see you later” and walks away. You can’t help but feel a little embarrassed crying in front of him before the day has even begun. 

“You must be y/n! Nesta told me you’d be joining us today” after breakfast and a little bit of walking about the house trying to remember where everything was. Feyre had found you and informed you that the priestesses were ready to begin. “I”m Gwyn” she held out her hand and offered you a million dollar smile. You shook her hand and offered her a five dollar smile in return. “Well, follow me,” she walked you through shelves and shelves of ancient looking volumes and tomes and from what you gathered these books could very well be thousands of years old. The thought made you feel very small. “I have taken it upon myself to take charge of this project and put together a small group to find out how to get you home” she said the last few words in a whisper. So the portal business is not for everyone to know, makes sense. You spend the next few hours meeting the other priestesses and beginning the search for books that might have what you’re looking for. By lunchtime you are starving and in need of fresh air. 

You opt for lunch on your balcony. But regret it almost immediately, the peace and quiet opening the floodgates of your mind and soon enough you’ve lost your appetite. Sighing, you get up from the little table and walk into the room. You grab your bag and empty it out on the bed. You had some snacks, your water bottle, an extra pair of socks you had forgotten about, your wallet, passport, sunglasses, phone and sunscreen. That was it. This is it. You place everything that you have to your name in the drawer of your bedside table and resist the urge to cry again. There’s still a full day ahead. The despair quiets down as you return to the library and are consumed by the work. 

After a full day of research you feel like your mind is going to explode. This will take months, if we’re lucky. You return to the dining room and see Cassian, Azriel and who you could only assume is Nesta already eating. “Y/n! Meet my mate, Nesta” Cassian excitedly points to the female beside him. “Hello, it’s nice to meet you” you try to muster up some energy but the defeat in your voice and your face is obvious. “It’s nice to meet you as well, I apologize I wasn’t here yesterday but I assume everything has gone well with the house?” At that you can’t help the enthusiastic nod “the house is fantastic”. You start to make yourself a plate and they return to their conversation but you don’t really listen to what they say. You keep going over and over it. Before you got here, before you stepped on that circle- there was something there. But you hadn’t seen anything, not a shadow, not a footprint, nothing. But the quiet… whatever it was, it was a predator that had scared off all but one prey. Maybe it was a trap. You feel sick. Oh god. “Y/n? You’re pale” Azriel’s voice snaps you from your spiral and you see the three of them sharing the same concerned look. I hate that look. “I’m just tired, it’s been… a long day” you try to finish your dinner but between their worried glances and your lack of appetite you can’t do it. “I’m gonna call it a night, guys” you say and walk to your room. 

The next few days are a blur of the same routine: breakfast with Azriel and sometimes Nesta, research, lunch, research, dinner, sleep. On the third day Azriel is the only one at breakfast “do you only have two changes of clothes?” You furrow your brows at him, “yes” last night had been the second sleepless one and you were in no mood to be tested. “I can take you into town if you’d like, get you something else to add to the rotation” you appreciated his offer, truly, the dress and the leggings were getting old “thanks, but I have no currency or goods or services that I can exchange for new clothes. These will have to do” you start drinking your tea, the only thing you could stomach since yesterday. “Y/n, you are an official guest of the Night Court. You can charge whatever you need or want to the High Lord” Oh “I did not know that. I’ve never been an official guest of anything. But still, you’ve already given me too much”. He stays serious as he says “We leave after you finish breakfast” he pushes a cinnamon roll in front of you. “I guess we can leave now” he doesn’t move “you’re not going to eat?” You shake your head “I’d love to but I am not hungry at all” he looks at you square in the face and you know he can see through the paper thin mask you’ve put on. “Very well, let’s go then”. 

“Do you prefer pants or skirts?” Azriel asked as you walked through a very busy part of Velaris. “Well it depends, I like skirts for leisurely activities and pants for everything else” Azriel looked around, he seemed just as lost as you were “fair enough”. “Azriel, do you know where we’re going?” He placed his hand on your back to guide you through the crowd “of course I do”. You say nothing. Both of us seem to be in a mood today. “Here we are,” he points to a quiet looking storefront “Feyre and Nesta talk about this shop a lot”. You walk in and see a mixture of textiles, prints and cuts that revive a part of you that has been dormant for a while. “Oh my god, this is great” Azriel lets out a breath and says “go crazy” and you do. Two hours and three full bags later you walk out of the shop. “I feel like I went overboard, we should return half of these things” you go turn around but Azriel’s wing stops you from walking any further. “Nonsense,  you need the clothes, now we need to get you some new shoes” you look at your boots “what’s wrong with these?” He walks into a shoe shop “nothing is wrong with them, but don’t you want something more comfortable?” You would like some slippers and maybe something cute to wear with the dresses “alright, if you insist”. As you walk towards the displays you miss the smile that ghosts over Azriel’s face. 

“I’ve got to hand it to you, Azriel. Getting out of the house and the library was just what the doctor ordered” you say as you bite down on a cinnamon roll that you had ordered at a little bakery. “A change of scenery is always nice I suppose” you nod and keep eating. “Y/n, feel free to not answer if you don’t want to but what is your world like?” Dammit, just as I was having a nice time. You sip some tea, your throat having gone dry yet again. Breathe, come one. In. Out. “It’s ok. Well for starters there’s no magic. There is war, famine, illness. But we also have so much beauty. Where I’m from the trees are always green and the sky is constantly blue. We have beaches and rivers. I was traveling before I got here, and I saw a bit of the world away from my home and it was beautiful. Similar to this, but the stars felt like a painting and these feel like living beings. We have art and I guess the most recent advancement has been the internet, but that’s a whole other conversation. There are so many animals, we keep some as pets. I had or have a dog. But there are monkeys and dolphins and butterflies and oh- we move around by cars or planes or trains mainly. We have horses but ever since the industrial revolution they aren’t the main form of transportation” you talked for what felt like hours, by the end your throat was sore from overuse. Azriel had listened to it all and had committed every detail to memory. Even if he didn't understand the internet or how planes flew without magic. 

 After the snack break Azriel let you know that you were going to have lunch at the River House with Feyre and Elain, the third sister you had yet to meet. The sister Mor thinks Azriel is enamored with. The walk back was pretty long but enjoyable, conversation with the Shadowsinger seemed to flow naturally and he seemed interested in everything you had to say so when he announced you had arrived you couldn’t help the disappointment that bubbled in your chest. The River House was a spectacular mansion overlooking the Sidra. “Azriel, y/n! Come over here, Elain is just finishing up lunch” Feyre said in place of greeting. You follow Azriel towards glass doors that lead to a beautiful garden terrace, where you are greeted by a delicious looking spread of finger foods. “I tried to make everything baby friendly” a delicate musical voice says to Azriel. You look from the spread towards the voice “you must be Elain, I’m y/n”. She smiles and says “lovely to meet you, please start without me, I’m in the middle of decorating a cake” you note the apron she dons and the frosting that stains her pretty face. I’d be into her if I was Azriel.

Feyre, Nyx, Azriel and yourself enjoy lunch and simple conversation “there’s only a few more weeks of summer so we try to make the most of this weather before the Sidra freezes” you nod, having noticed that the breezes gliding through the air seem to be getting cooler and cooler everyday. The High Lady lets the little boy out of his chair, he doesn’t look older than two. Once he’s free of the confines of his high chair he races to the lawn and begins to play with some toys he probably left there earlier.  “Here we are” Elain returns to the table with an intricately decorated cake, it has all sorts of flowers and leaves made of pastel color frosting and Elain herself looks perfectly put together, she looks for her nephew “Nyxie, do you want a slice?” The table laughs as he ignores her and goes back to playing. “Sorry Elain, you know how he gets after being still for too long” Feyre says. The domestic scene fills your heart with longing for your own family. That could’ve been you. Your blood runs cold as you hear the distinct lilt of your mother’s voice. Not this again. You had had some reprieve of those words ever since getting here. “So Elain, I’ve been told you garden?” You ask to fill the comfortable silence the group had fallen into. Luckily Elain had a lot to say about the upcoming autumn harvest and her plans for the following year. 

After lunch concluded, you and Azriel went back to the House of Wind where you resumed the routine you had grown to appreciate. In the morning you would wake up and actually choose an outfit, which was a nice addition, have breakfast and go to the library. After lunch you’d go back to the library until dinner. After dinner you’d either walk around the house, find a book to read, maybe journal a bit. Other nights were a bit more fun though, someone would take you into town and you’d go dancing or walk along the river or visit art galleries. It was a nice routine. Predictable. Dependable. Enjoyable. 

So Azriel was very surprised when you walked into the dinning room with a huff and a scowl. “What’s the matter?” You look at him like with wild eyes “Azriel I can’t do it anymore” he stiffens and you continue “The priestesses are all very nice and Gwyn is a sweetheart but the only thing I do is look for books for them to read because they are all written in ancient languages I don’t understand. I’m so bored, Azriel, I’m numb with boredom. I’m not a researcher and I can’t even contribute, not really. I don’t wanna go back down there. It’s dark and cold and I need sunshine. Sunshine!” you finish by dropping into your chair and putting your head between your hands. “I see-” you interrupt him “and I’m sorry I sound ungrateful ok? You’ve all been very nice”. He continues “if you need a change of pace you could come with me to the human lands, I’ll be there for a few days on an assignment. I’d appreciate the company” you could kiss him.

 “When do we leave?” 

[dreamseersystem]

Happy Halloween! Wrote a drabble for my lovely wife over at @ask-sibverse as a gift. It's KillerxT1Reader so enjoy the silliness!

You don't know why you agreed to this. You should have known better, but he was so hard to say no to. When Killer told you that he wanted to invite you to Ccino's halloween party you had tilted your head at him at first. He petted your head at that and called you a cute kitten. It made you blush and push him away. Then he asked if he could pick the halloween costume for you this year. He promised it wouldn't be revealing or anything. You sighed, his pleading kitten eyelight got to you. So you agreed.

And that is why you are stuck like this now. At least he said it was only for the night. And he did it to himself as well. Where did he even get something like this? Your ear twitched in irritation. Yes twitched. Somehow he found some universe that had the ability to give animal features to one temporarily. He just threw a potion at you and suddenly you had cat features and they moved. He said that the person who makes them promises it wouldn't affect your sugar levels or anything. He had double checked to make sure just for you. At least the costume part was as promised, not revealing. It was actually pretty cute. A witch costume in your favorite color that went well with your new cat features. It even has holes for the ears on the hat. But... You still question the collar. It had a bell at the end of it. But Killer was wearing one too so it shouldn't be too bad. He was dressed as a catpire as he called it. Fancy looking clothes with a cape. And he called you a spell nyanster. You couldn't help but giggle at the name.

So when you arrived at the halloween party you blinked some more. Oh... That was why Killer had the potion used on you. Just not him being a cat addict. Everyone had a cat feature potion used on them. Ccino looked quite proud of himself at the turn out. His own costume was that of a cat bar maid. Then you saw Cross, who looked so out of place here. You guessed he lost a bet to Killer about something because he was dressed as a cat maid.

"Why did I nyan to this?" Cross grumbled. He blushed at the meow that came out of his mouth. He was also wearing one of those bell collars that rang as he moved.

"Because you lost the nyan bet Crossy!" Killer chirped. "Plus you need some fun. Enjoy the meowty!"

"Wait why are you both meowing?" The last word that came from you was a full cat meow and you blushed furiously. Killer just rang your bell and grinned.

"Oh friend hi!" A familiar voice called out to the group. Ink was dragging Dream and Blue along, all three were dressed as magical cat girls. "You look meowzing!" You noticed that all three were sporting bell collars as well. "My collars are nyansome right?"

You gave Dream and Blue a pitying look, but Killer just laughed and agreed as he held you close to him. You had a feeling he was making sure Ink couldn't drag you off. Cross on the other hand was soon dragged off by Epic who found a way to combine a chicken costume with cat features. You had concerns, but decided not to question it.

You talked with the Star Sanses some more with Killer making cat puns the whole time with his meowing and Ccino wanted you to try a new treat he made. He was nice enough to provide you with a list of all the sweets he made with carb estimates so you could bolus for them.

It was, a really fun party and you enjoyed it despite the collar and potion used on you. And you guess you could forgive Killer for it since it wasn't like you stood out. The treats were delicious, the drinks so creative, and spending time with your friends and boyfriend made things so much better. Especially since it seems Nightmare didn't take him away early like he was used to doing.

When the pair of you got back to your house you immediately changed into some comfy pajamas. The tail was still in the way, but Killer promised it would be gone by morning and he took the collar from you so you didn't meow anymore when talking. You wondered if he was gonna leave now that the party was done.

You noticed him grabbing his clothes he keeps here and heading into the bathroom. His phone was left on the bed beside you. His ringtone for Nightmare went off and you stopped it before Killer could hear it. He did not need his boss on his ass tonight when he was exhausted despite having fun at the party and you were kind of fed up with it. You looked at the text, promising to apologize to Killer later, and you were right. He had another mission at this time of night. You growled, surprising yourself at how it sounded, but you guess that was because of the cat features.

You took the phone to text his boss. Killer is indisposed. He can help you with whatever you want tomorrow Nightmare. You felt a chill that made your tail bristle after sending the text, but you ignored it. The phone went off again.

Is that so? Well then I guess I better not bother him.

You felt the dripping sarcasm through the screen. Just give him one night off. It won't hurt your plans for spreading negativity and Dream is preoccupied tonight to fight whatever you are planning.

You looked at the door, hoping Killer didn't come out too soon, but you heard the shower on.

Fine, my dear. I'll give him this one night at your request. But in exchange, you do me a favor later.

You grimaced as your hackles raised. Of course there was always a price. But... Killer really needed this. It couldn't be that bad right? It's not like you have much use to the King of Negativity. You were a weak human. Fine. Deal.

I'll tell him when to bring you then my dear. The phone went silent finally.

Killer came out and the phone was back in place as he purred and hugged you. "Everything okay?"

Oh right, cat features shows emotions better. "I'm fine," you lied. He hasn't bothered with the phone so he can find out the truth later. "Just want to cuddle tonight."

Killer grinned at that. "Oh? Kitten cuddles it is then," he purred as he pulled you into the bed, phone knocked on the floor forgotten.

You ended up purring yourself, surprised at the noise. That just made Killer's SOUL go heart shaped and purr louder. You two cuddled under the covers of the bed, enjoying the warmth until he fell asleep. You worried a bit about him discovering the text messages tomorrow, but there was nothing to be done now. A fitting end to halloween. Making a deal with the devil himself. You cuddled into him and let yourself drift off in slumber.

[wannaeatramyeon]

Okay wow! Now you just made me sad about the “Compliment Assault” Vasco fic. I NEED THEM TOGETHERR AHHH. The fic is so good, It hurt me when they didn’t confessed🥺🫶. Can u pls make another one where Vasco ended up confessing to the reader with the help and around burn knuckles?. Heehhe thank you so much! Your fics are so good😘

- 🥔

Hello my favourite carb! Thank you for your lovely words :D Yeah I thought I ended it on a little bit of a sad note. I dunno how to end things lol. Your ask intrigued me with how Vasco and the reader would leave things, so here's my brainfart. And it's looooong and ramble-y (I even used the keep reading feature!!) and tbh not the best but! Enjoy!

Vasco x Reader: With the help of Jace's ears

"What's wrong Vasco?"

Euntae was sitting in the empty classroom, looking worried and deep in thought.

Jace sincerely hoped it wasn't more trouble with the 4 Crews. They've only just managed to recover from their injuries and rest. He knew that himself and the rest of Burn Knuckles still have a way to go before they could even be considered a threat. He was desperate to get stronger and actually be a help and not a hindrance.

Besides, sometimes it's easy to forget they're still in school and should really be more worried about their grades and attendance.

Still, if this is what Vasco needs then Jace has no doubt that he will have the full backing of Burn Knuckles.

"I had a really strange conversation with Y/N the other day," Vasco turned to Jace with one lone tear falling from his face.

Jace felt a surge of relief but what's this now, "Oh?" his ears start to wriggle.

"She called me sweet, felt my muscles, and then was sad about me getting a girlfriend..."

"!" The ears grew a little larger...

"I'm not even interested in dating, especially if that means spending less time with Y/N." And a little larger still. "I made a promise I would always look after her."

"VASCO!!" Jace grips his shoulders and shakes him. Huh? Has Jace's ears always been this big? "DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS!"

.

.

"Fuck you, morons! Put me down!"

You are kicking and punching any which way but to no avail. The Burn Knuckles crashed into your class, "They're over there!!", lifted you - chair and all - out of the room.

You are now being carried in one of their weird formations, but you weren't going to go down without a fight. No wonder the Principal wanted to expel them! They were usually pretty chivalrous with you but this crossed the line.

"I'm sorry, but these are orders from Lord Vasco and Sir Jace!" one of the oddballs pipe up. You immediately stop your flailing. Vasco and Jace? You haven't seen Vasco since your almost-confession the other day, but for Vasco and Jace to summon you, even with this... method, it must be important.

"Hmph. Fine."

.

.

The crew discards you in a heap outside their classroom. You dust yourself off and yell insults and threats to their retreating backs. One of them even has the gall to turn back and wave. Urgh.

"VASCO!" you open the door and stride in, "Do you know what those blockheads-"

You pause, taking in your surroundings. The Architecture classroom was transformed, with petals covering the floor and candles lining the room. Was that... music? Vasco stands in the middle of it all, looking like he was on the verge of fainting.

Your heart flutters. Is this what you think it is?

"What's going on?"

If anything, from the second you opened your mouth, Vasco looked even more nervous. "I... I- erm. Y/N. You... Me... and I..." you could see him visibly gulp. Is that a sheen of sweat?

You move closer, hoping to comfort him. You give him a small smile and a tender look, "Euntae, it's ok. What did you want to say?"

"We. I mean... You. I think... Myself... No. Wait," Vasco squeezes his eyes shut, "JACE!"

Jace pops out from behind him. What the fuck he was there the whole time? You take a step back from them both. Maybe you actually had the wrong idea.

"Wait, Y/N! What Vasco meant to say was that he was thinking about what you were saying the other day when he walked you home..." Jace turns to Vasco, who nods his head immediately, his eyes still glued to the floor. You don't think you've ever seen Vasco so anxious or embarassed. Or Jace's ears so big.

"...And he likes you."

Your eyes widen in surprise, "Is this true?" you direct at Vasco.

He completely freezes on the spot under your scrutiny.

"Ahem, what Vasco meant to say is yes. It's true." Another swift nod.

"..." Vasco mumbles something indecipherable under his breath.

"He thinks you're the most beautiful person he's ever seen,"

"..."

"Oh right yeah, inside and out."

"..."

"And he wants to date you. Be your boyfriend,"

"..."

"Wants to take you out, hold your hand,"

"..."

"He thinks about you all the time,"

"..."

"And-"

"Jace!" You cut him off. You get it. You do. And you're truly grateful for his help, but you would really rather the rest of this conversation happen in private. The words coming from Jace ruin the effect somewhat. "Thank you, but would you mind if I speak to Vasco alone?"

"Oops, heh. Of course..." Jace claps Vasco on the back and leaves with a self-satisfied smile, his ears trailing behind him.

"Euntae," you stand in front of him. Your hands reach out to his. He finally looks at you shyly, a nervous smile on his lips. Like he wasn't sure what you were going to say, like you haven't been obvious.

"You've been so good to me. You have such a good heart. And," Vasco lets out a squeak as you squeeze his pecs, "Your body is just..." You make a sound of appreciation. "I would love for you to be my boyfriend."

.

.

Vasco would have thought he mishead you, or you were just messing around again, but he catches the way you look at him. You are absolutely smittened.

The final barrier breaks, he takes you in his arms and holds you tightly. He couldn't believe it's happening. After all this pining, he was the one (with the help of Jace and Burn Knuckles) who had the confidence to actually confess first. His only regret was not doing it sooner.

You reach up to seal your new relationship with a kiss-

Vasco flinches sharply. "AHH NO Y/N! You can only do that when we're married!!"

[princess-of-purple-prose]

HIII writing prompt “monster” and 7? 💕

Giggling the teensiest bit, I love you <3 No, really, I love you, because 7 was, amusingly, the wildcard number, so randomly picking landed me on TIM STOKER, and I don’t think I’ve ever written in his pov before but this CONSUMED ME?? I haven’t written this much in one go in weeks, forget this fast?? This also, uh, turned into full-out jontim, which was a complete accident because this was SUPPOSED to be a meditation on him mid-Research era. Aha. Enjoy!!!!

“—and that,” Jon declares, “is why it’s so vital to continue establishing Hope Spots, not just in spots ripe for ecotourism, but across the world.” He takes what must be his first breath in ten full minutes, and it’s only then that he seems to register Tim and Sasha’s twin gleeful expressions. His own expression goes a little funny. “Tim, Sasha, please tell me you weren’t—”

Sasha is already stabbing at her phone, fumbling a little before she actually hits the right button. “Twelve minutes and forty-six seconds! A new record!”

“The man’s a monster!” Tim toasts Jon with a whoop, and Jon—there’s really no other word for it: he fully pouts at Tim, wrinkling his nose so primly it makes Tim want to bear-hug him right then and there. He sublimates the urge by being even more over-the-top, trying to see if he can make Jon’s nose scrunch up even more. “Attenborough who! I want all my documentaries voiced by this man!” Opposite him, Sasha dissolves into tiny giggles, sweet and delicate as a spray of mayflowers.

“Sasha missed the ‘stop’ button about five times, you can’t call that—” Jon snorts, but his cheeks have turned the rich cherry of his desk back at Research, so he can’t be that mad about their subpar timekeeping of his latest incredibly disorganized, incredibly endearing overview of the last documentary he watched.

“Jonnnnnn, take the win!” Tim cries, and he gives in and slings an arm around Jon’s shoulder like it belongs there. God, the man’s teeny, they need to make sure he gets some carbs in him. On that note— “Take some chips, too, you’re built like a bird!”

“And you’re built like,” Jon grumps, “a—a—” He scowls and takes a chip, presumably only to cover the fact that he’s too drunk to come up with a simile. Contrary little bastard, he is. “Get off me, you arse.”

Tim makes a complaining sound even as he immediately pulls away—only for Jon to jolt and then practically butt up into Tim’s hovering arm, far more housecat than bird. Tim freezes, not putting any pressure against Jon even though they’re skin-to-cardigan again.

“Jon…?”

Oh, there it is, there’s that wrinkled nose. Tim loses his breath, a little bit. “I didn’t mean it,” Jon says, scowling even harder than he’d been before and refusing to look Tim’s way. “It’s—It’s cold in here, alright?”

As a matter of fact, it is a comfortable degree of stifling in here, and Jon is in a cardigan that’s more than enough to ward off the mild autumnal chill and drunk besides. Jon seems well aware of this, or maybe not aware at all, because as Tim settles tentatively against him again, he grabs for his long-forgotten glass and downs the rest of it. Tim gives Sasha a wide-eyed look, only for her—traitor! Disloyal turncoat!— to smirk back, propping her chin up with a hand and arching her perfect eyebrows at him.

“Oh, shut up,” he snips, cheeks warming, just as Jon sets down his now-empty glass. Jon turns to him curiously, having entirely missed the exchange, and Tim turns his brightest beam on him and coos, “Not you, you’re a delight and I’m glad you’re sitting next to me and not”—he aims another scowl her way, and Sasha sticks her tongue out at him—“Sasha over there, because she gives me a hard enough time without you there to egg her on worse.”

Sasha smirks harder. Tim wishes he could kick her under the table without Jon noticing.

“I’m perfectly capable of siding with her even while sitting practically on top of you,” Jon sniffs, drier than anyone should be capable of being with that quantity of liquor in them, and Tim gapes in outrage even as delight fills him up to the tips of his ears to match Jon’s still-red cheeks.

“That’s what I like to hear, Jon!” Sasha cheers, raising her own empty glass to him. Jon quirks a wicked little grin and does the same.

Tim emits a high-pitched squawk of disbelief. “With friends like you, who needs enemies?” He sags dramatically against Jon, relishing in his little grumble of annoyance as he gets crushed. “What’s a guy to do?”

“Buy us more drinks?” Sasha suggests innocently to the tune of Jon’s sniggering, and Tim groans theatrically even as he flags down the waiter for another round. Monsters, the both of them! he laments to himself. He wouldn’t have it any other way.