#i was going to do a longer list of favorites

[narrycherries]

ivy: an incandescent glow

(Y/n) just wants to have a fun night out, but Harry has a tendency to ruin things..

[part 2]

masterlist // ivy series

word count: 10.9k

warnings/tags: enemies to lovers, harry x fem reader, angst

Although the week had been quite packed with things at work, (Y/n) had decided that maybe it would be best if she did go out for the night. It would only be for a few hours, and Niall had assured her when he came over the other night for dinner that it would be a good time. Emma begged a few times, of course, and she didn’t want to admit to giving in to her, but she did.. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for her to go out, it had simply been a while.

“Is Niall riding with us?” She asked Emma when she popped in (Y/n)’s room to borrow a pair of earrings that would better match her outfit.

“No, he’s going with Zayn. They usually go early to meet with the owner and stuff.” She explained as she looked in the mirror, slipping the earrings into her piercing holes. “He might ride back.. I’m not going to drink very much, probably just one drink when we first get there. He’ll want to celebrate after and you know how he is.”

“He definitely doesn’t need to be in a driver’s seat.”

Emma sighed. “He doesn’t even need to do that when he’s sober. He pays horrible attention to the road.”

“Your dress is cute. I love the red on you.”

“Thanks! I love your skirt.. even though it covers your ass too much.” She joked with a grin.

(Y/n) rolled her eyes. “I don’t want my ass hanging out all the time.”

“When it looks that good.. you should.”

“Do I need to change?”

Emma smacked her lips and grabbed (Y/n)’s hand, knocking the makeup brush out of her grip. “Stop! You look perfect, (Y/n), I’m only teasing because your ass is nice and mine is nowhere near as big.” A laugh fell from her lips as she wrapped her arms around (Y/n). “You’re hot, girl.”

“Am not.” She huffed back, embracing Emma just as tight. “But thanks.”

“The skirt is hot. The style is cute on you, plus the sparkles on your shirt are going to shine so much in the bar. Like a disco ball.. all eyes on you, sugar.”

(Y/n) chuckled at Emma’s flattering statements. She was glad to have an encouraging friend like her. Before all the joking, she did have a thought or two about the skirt and the bright orange shirt covered in fake rectangular gemstones. The straps were thin, and the necklace was low but straight across, covering any opportunity for cleavage to show. It was definitely not a shirt someone would wear on a daily basis, but it was perfect for going out.

“Are you wearing heels?” Emma asked, looking down to see her shoeless feet.

“Probably the chunky ones with the straps, the black ones. Are you?”

She nodded back. “I’ll make Niall rub my feet tonight.”

(Y/n) snickered. “I’ll make you rub mine.”

“I mean, I will. You’re my best friend.. as long as you aren’t sweaty.” Emma’s lashes hit her cheek as she winked.

“Don’t you need to finish getting ready?” (Y/n) said as she turned back towards the mirror to work on her makeup.

Emma was notorious for being late, and it took everything in (Y/n) to wrangle her up and out of the door when they were going places together. Niall didn’t give them a specific time to be at the bar, but he did say when the band would start. Emma needed to get ready quick if they wanted to make it on time.

The car ride was full of quick conversations with random topics in between their performances of some of their favorite songs. They had hit a karaoke stage as a duo before, plenty of times, so they were confident in their list of songs. In between the belting and off key singing, they had a few longer talks. Emma asked if (Y/n) was nervous about going to a bar she’d never been to before, in which she said ‘no, I’m excited’ and then let Emma tell her all about the layout of the place.

“You said something about.. Niall celebrating after?”

Emma nodded as she kept her eyes on the road ahead of them. “They don’t play the entire night. Usually have about two afters until closing. Depends on if there’s any requests.”

“Requests?” (Y/n) lifted her brows, surprised by the seemingly popularity Niall’s crew had. “They must be really good?”

Although she had seen videos of Niall, she hadn’t seen any of his band. Emma didn’t really use social media a lot, so she never posted anything or shared posts about their shows. (Y/n) was going to be completely surprised by whatever was to come tonight. She knew it would be good though. If they could continue to book the same venue time and time again, then they must bring in a good audience.

When the silence rose between them, (Y/n) took the opportunity to look at Emma’s outfit. She was humming softly to the song playing on the radio as she drove, her concentration on the road and not on her friend’s gazing eyes. Emma had such pretty dark hair that (Y/n) thought was perfectly placed strand by stand on her head. It had a natural wave to it that was easy to style, whereas (Y/n) had to place heated curls into her long, straight hair whenever she wanted it to look cute. Emma had a slimmer build than she did, her legs were longer despite them being a similar height. No matter how hard she tried not to look, her eyes always naturally fell to catch a glimpse at the gap between Emma’s legs. She never looked at it in a weird way, like she was attracted to her, but in an envious way. When she stared down at her own thighs or burned holes through her mirror, she always frowned and swallowed harshly as her skin pressed together - the inside of her thighs always touching. It wasn’t the biggest deal to her, but it was noticeable in her eyes, so she assumed it was.. noticeable for everyone else. Emma had small boobs, but they fit perfectly on her frame. While (Y/n) had a small cup size, they didn’t necessarily match her body, she believed. Her hips were wider, her ass fuller - as Emma reminded her often - and her stomach was pudgy. She wasn’t skinny, nor tall and lanky. She was short, plump, and her thighs touched.. She never thought she was unattractive but she figured she wasn’t conventionally attractive, she didn’t possess those things that society craved and demanded of women.

Emma’s outfit tonight was perfectly sculpted to her slim body. The red dress had a satin finish to it as it draped carefully over her cleavage, the swell of her breasts peeking out just enough to keep someone guessing. Her tanned skin was littered with delicate gold jewelry - her signature flower ring on her right hand was accompanied by a few random ones, and a ruby necklace hung over her collarbones, Niall gifted that to her for Christmas.

(Y/n) was confident in her outfit for the night, she was comfortable in the articles of clothing. She was very used to wearing heels when going out, she believed they made the outfits even better, so her feet weren’t going to be hurting that bad later on. She thought her makeup was done nicely, a dark grey smokey eye with a shimmery white covering her lid and a pink nude gloss over her thick lips. Her lips, that was the one thing she was confident in each and every time she looked at her reflection. They were plump, full, and much thicker than the average person’s. She had been told several times that her lips would do wonders - although, she hadn’t gotten to that with anyone yet. She had kissed a few people, though, and they told her it was heavenly. She took the praise to heart and was proud of it. Her thighs might touch and her hair might dry straight, but she had pretty lips.. that would surely be enough to attract someone one of these days, right?

After a couple of minutes of silence, more than (Y/n) had realized, Emma spoke up. “Are you feeling okay?”

(Y/n) stuck her tongue out to wet her lips, smearing her lip gloss in the process. “Yeah. Why?”

Emma shrugged. “You’re quiet.. you seem like you’re thinking about something.”

“I’m fine, promise.”

They became quiet again. She knew that sometimes she became mute when she was anxious or thinking thoroughly about something, and she hated when people noticed or pointed it out. She wasn’t intentionally trying to be that way, it just happened. She assumed it was normal, but perhaps she did it too much?

“(Y/n), if you’re worrying about your outfit, please don’t. You look hot. You always do.” Emma suddenly said, a smile laced in her words. “There’s gonna be guys dropping to your feet tonight, like they always do.”

“They don’t drop to my feet.” She huffed, pursing her lips at the thought. “They just want to hook up with me.”

Emma smirked. “It’s your ass, I’m telling you. They love it.”

“Emma, please.” (Y/n) was fighting back a chuckle.

“I promise, swear on every little thing, (Y/n), your outfit is perfect and you look perfect.”

A weighted sigh escaped through her lips as she relaxed in the seat, her eyes shifting to look out of the window. “Thanks, Em.”

While (Y/n) had never been to the establishment they arrived at, she was no stranger to a bar or club setting. Emma no longer seemed to be worried or concerned about any lingering doubts (Y/n) might have about her outfit or how the night would go. They strolled to the door, hand in hand with giggles pouring from their mouths as Emma joked about how excited she was for what Niall was going to give her after the show. Apparently, performing gave him a boost of confidence, energy, and testosterone. Emma was not shy about telling every detail and making sure (Y/n) knew all the craziest parts.

“There’s a good bit of people here.” (Y/n) said as she raised her brows, looking at the good sized line forming to the door.

“Yeah, it’s always packed out. This is one of the best places around. Decent prices, good djs and bands, obviously.” Emma grinned at her own comment. “And the food is actually great. I never came before I got with Niall though.”

“Yeah, I’m kinda surprised we never popped in here during school.”

Emma’s smile turned to a smirk. “They couldn’t handle our karaoke performances.”

Once they paid the cover charge and made a quick trip to the restroom before getting settled anywhere, they headed to the bar, still hand in hand as they weaved through the crowd of people already dancing. (Y/n) took notice of the interior as they waited for the bartender to come over to them.

The place was pretty big for what it was. The main room had a large dance floor space, a stage lined the back wall. Apparently, the place always had live performers or guest djs. It used to be a small theater that was renovated - the seating ripped out to transform the venue, but the stage remained untouched. Along the left side of the huge open room were tables with booth style benches shaped in half circles. Most of them were already occupied, but she could tell it was more of a casual thing - instead of a ‘being seated and waited on’ space. There was a doorway close to the opposite end of the bar covered with a long, sparkling beaded curtain. The sign next to the door read ‘VIP’. She pursed her lips at the idea of this place being so popular that they had a special seating area. Her eyes darted to the bartender as she heard Emma start saying her order. (Y/n) ordered a drink consisting of rum and pineapple juice, intending to get something stronger later once the show started.

“Hey there, strangers.” A familiar voice called out over the music.

“Oh, hi, Niall!” Emma was cheerful as he sat down on the stool closest to them. They had been standing, though, not wanting to claim a seat at the bar. “What are you doing out here?”

He shrugged. “We’ve got a few minutes to kill. Getting started?” He nodded his head towards the drink in Emma’s hand.

“Yeah, just having one.. since you’ll be drinking whatever’s left at the bar later.”

(Y/n) laughed at their banter, which caught Niall’s attention. “I expect you, missy, to have fun tonight. I want everyone to experience how wild you can get.”

“I told her she needs to have fun!” Emma exclaimed, reaching over to grab (Y/n)’s elbow and give it a squeeze.

“I’ll have a few.. but I’m not going to go crazy.”

They both gave her a dramatic eye roll, Niall adding a huff to his reaction. “C’mon, (Y/n), live a little!”

“Yeah, a little, not a lot.” She smiled back, amused by their mix of excitement and disappointment.

“I’ll make sure you have a few rounds of tequila later. On me, of course.” Niall said, looking from her to Emma. “If you don’t drink yours.. then I’ll take it, babe.”

“Are you guys doing requests tonight?” Emma changed the topic after shaking her head at him.

He slowly lifted his head in a nod. “From what I was told. As long as we know it.. we’ll play it.”

“Do my song, okay?” Emma begged with a pout of her lips.

He shaped a grin on his. “It’s on the set list, baby.”

“What kind of music do you play?” (Y/n) asked, genuinely curious about it. Emma hadn’t really given her much of an idea about what to expect, just a guarantee that she’d love it and have fun.

“Mostly rock.. We do a lot of nineties.. early two thousands songs. Bunch of classic rock, though. Little bit of grunge, dad rock.. if that’s what you wanna call it. Sometimes we branch out.. but mostly stick to that stuff.” Niall said as he stood from the stool, a sigh following his final words as he ran a hand through his puffed up dark hair.

“Time to get ready?” Emma pouted, her free hand slipping onto his waist.

“Yeah, gotta round up the lads.” He breathed out, his eyes focusing on Emma now. “I’ll be watching you, babe. Make sure ya dance for me, yeah?” He teased with a lick of his lips, which clearly fell downward to meet hers.

(Y/n) swallowed a sip of her drink and let her eyes move to the floor. She wasn’t grossed out by their display of affection, she just felt like she was intruding. Emma was always so open with her about the things she did with Niall and others before he came along, but she never had those kinds of stories to tell back to her. She had been with one person, the summer before university began, and it was terrible. Aside from that, kissing people was the extent of her experience. She enjoyed most of the times she had almost gone far with people, but it never got to that point.

Emma hugged Niall quickly as he said something about needing to go. When he disappeared in the crowd, Emma turned to face (Y/n) again.

“Niall might stay over tonight.” She said, taking a sip of her drink. “Just to let you know.”

“Alright, that’s fine.”

Emma slid her gaze around the room, taking in the familiar setting, before looking back to (Y/n). “I hope you like the music. There’s a bunch of songs you definitely know on the set.”

“M’sure I will.”

“Are you good?” Emma smiled sweetly, not trying to pry or seem too nosy, but she noticed how (Y/n) had shied away from her and Niall just before he left.

“I’m fine. You worry too much.”

(Y/n) sighed lightly as Emma took her hand. “Maybe we can find you a hot guy tonight. I know you know how to use those lips.”

“Don’t say it like that!” (Y/n) laughed, covering her mouth as her cheeks blushed.

“Kissing, I mean! But I’m sure you can do the other stuff, too.” Emma just smirked, knowing that her attempt at making (Y/n) feel better was working.

They didn’t have to wait too much longer for everything to start. But as they stood next to the bar, partially resting on the stools, the place filled up to more than capacity. It was like a big name musician was in town. Emma told (Y/n) about the popularity of the bar again and how it was always sold out and packed floor to ceiling with people. She was very impressed by the crowd that had formed around them, and she wondered how much of that was just from the place’s atmosphere and how much was for the live show.

Just as the guy who was normally over the music appeared on the stage to announce that the show was about to begin, Emma grabbed (Y/n)’s hand and they shoved their way to the front of the crowd, not quite in the center but close enough. Emma wanted to be in front of where Niall would be standing. The lights dimmed, replaced with flashing colorful lights and white strobing flashes. Emma was cheering with the crowd while (Y/n) waited in anticipation. She was excited to see Niall perform live, but she was more interested in seeing the rest of the band.

A small group flooded the stage suddenly, instruments in a few of their hands, including Niall’s. The lights were purposely not flashing on to the stage yet, so it was too dark for her to tell. She thought she recognized the person getting behind the drum set, but she wasn't sure. Emma let out a piercing squeal as the show finally began.

(Y/n) happily smiled and started to sway her hips from side to side as a familiar opening instrumental of a song started to fill the room. The lights on the floor of the stage popped on, lighting up the band as the singer started the first verse of “Come As You Are”. She was nodding her head to the music as she watched Niall pluck the strings on the guitar, he was pursing his lips and seeming to be enjoying what he was doing. His eyes shot up and he gave them a quick grin before focusing back on the guitar in his hands and the microphone placed near his mouth. Emma had told her that he sings backup vocals sometimes, depending on the song. She let her eyes roam over the rest of the band. She kept getting a bright red light shot into her eye from one of the stage lights above them, so it was difficult to see at first.

“Oh, Zayn!” She yelled out over the music, hitting Emma on her arm. She hadn’t told her that he was in the band - in fact, she didn’t know much about the band at all.

There were two other people she didn’t recognize, one was a girl playing a keyboard and a guy with dark blond hair playing a bass guitar. Another gasp came from her as she finally got to clearly see the person tightly gripping the microphone. She truly didn’t expect to recognize more than just Niall and Zayn. There stood before her, in the middle of the stage with two big hands wrapped around the microphone and the top of the stand was a third familiar face. Sweat was already rolling down from his hairline, his long curly hair was messy on his head as he jerked around while singing. A white t-shirt hugged his body, sticking to him like glue, and a pair of dark jeans over his legs. The jet black ink of the snake tattoo stood out against his skin as the lights flashed over it, the creature wrapping perfectly around his arm. It was Harry.

The next song started almost immediately and it was another one that she recognized right off the top of the first note played. (Y/n)’s dad had a thing for rock music, and she knew the start of “Highway to Hell” like the back of her hand. She was impressed by the vocal range Harry was able to belt out into the microphone. Niall and the other guy she didn’t know the name of were singing the chorus with him. Emma was dancing like it was the actual band performing the song, but her behavior made (Y/n) more comfortable and soon she was doing the same.

Every now and then, Niall would flash them a toothy grin and give them a nod of his head, approving of their performance and dancing. (Y/n) was on her second drink, this one they grabbed soon after Niall left them and it was stronger than the first. She was feeling the blood rushing to her cheeks, and not from the dancing or close quarters of the crowd. It had been a while since she went out, so she was starting to feel that sensation flood through her - she wanted to have fun tonight.

For almost an hour, (Y/n) and Emma danced with each other, screaming out the lyrics they knew to different songs. They would do an impersonation of Niall every now and when he'd look towards them, air guitars and rock star head bangs acted out - all of which made him throw his head back and laugh. Like they usually did when they went out together, they’d grab onto each other and hug while singing or playfully run their hands down each other’s sides. It was all in fun, of course, and the alcohol contributed.

They both let go of their embrace as the music dialed down, twisting so they could face the stage. Niall was guzzling a bottle of water as Harry shoved his hand through his hair, pushing it out of his face. The bass player grabbed a stool from the back of the stage and brought it to Harry. Emma was familiar with this portion of the show, so she grabbed (Y/n)’s forearm to get her attention.

“I’m gonna get some water, do you want another drink?” Emma asked as she took a deep breath, exhausted from trying to outdo the performance on the stage.

“Yeah, get me another one of these.” (Y/n) nodded as she passed her empty cup, knowing she’d toss in the bin for her. Emma disappeared into the crowd to fight her way to the bar just as Harry adjusted the microphone stand and sat on the stool.

He was holding a bottle of water as he leaned into the microphone. “We’re gone slow it down for a bit.” His deep voice rattled through the speakers, a quick smirk shaping to his lips before he put the bottle to them.

(Y/n) couldn’t help but watch him as he swallowed half the contents of the bottle. It sloshed out, spilling over the corners of his mouth and running down his chin. Water droplets soaked and trailed down the fabric of his shirt. She was still so shocked by the fact he was the singer in Niall’s band. Maybe Emma just didn’t tell her because she knew they didn’t know each other. They met once, but they were strangers. He tossed the half empty water bottle on the ground, some of it spilled out since the top wasn’t screwed all the way on. His eyes roamed over the crowd as he grabbed the microphone. He glanced over his shoulder towards Niall, who gave him a nod and started up the next song.

(Y/n) had thoughts spinning in her head, the buzz from her drinks wasn’t helping her concentrate on just one thing. She wondered what songs they would do next. What kind of slower songs did they prefer to do? She figured it would be some of the same artists and bands they had covered thus far. Her eyes were glued to the floor, thoughts circling her mind at a hundred miles an hour. Had that second drink really been that strong or was she dizzy from being so close to the speakers?

(Y/n) lifted her head the moment she realized what song was being played. She shot her gaze to Niall, then over to the bass guitarist. She knew those chords better than any other song that existed. All those running thoughts vanished in her head as Harry’s voice dropped low with the first verse of the song. The way he sang the words just as slow as they originally were done made her heart skip a beat. This song was special to her. This was something she wasn’t even sure Emma knew. She talked about losing her mom quite often with Emma, but her brother was a different story. And as his favorite song was being sung, she couldn’t help but feel a sadness creep over her joyful mood. All the energy she had jolting through her veins like lightning had slowed to a dull pulse. She gulped as she glanced next to her, Emma hadn’t returned yet. Niall was too busy focusing on the chords he was playing to give her any looks. She felt like she was about to pass out, not from the heat built up from the crowd or the alcohol in her system - but from the overwhelming feelings washing through her. (Y/n)’s strained blue eyes flicked to Harry, and for just a split second he locked his gaze on her. It was gone before she could understand what was happening. She was sure he didn’t notice her, and if he did then he didn’t recognize her or care to remember the glimpse of her face he got at the tattoo shop.

She thought maybe watching Niall would distract her, but witnessing him playing the music she so easily knew was making it worse. She wasn’t sure how long she had been standing there with her eyes glued to the floor. The song wasn’t over yet, that’s all she was sure of.

“Oh, this is new! They’ve never done this one before!” Emma suddenly appeared next to her, a smile over her lips as she passed (Y/n) the drink.

She turned her head, glad to see that her friend had returned but sort of upset that she left in the first place. Emma couldn’t have known what song was going to be next, clearly she was unaware of it, and she didn’t know the intense attachment (Y/n) had to it. She couldn’t blame Emma for anything.

“Thanks. I’m running.. to the restroom!” She yelled over the speaker that was extremely close to them.

Emma gave her a thumbs up and a quick ‘be careful’. Before Emma could drop her arm, (Y/n) was pushing her way through the crowd towards the restroom, well she actually wasn’t sure where she was heading. She had to get away from that stage. She had to disappear for a few minutes to collect herself. It wasn’t the performance that bothered her - Niall was amazing, as were the others playing instruments, and Harry was doing the song justice. It was just her mind. Sweaty bodies bumped into her as she elbowed through everyone. She felt like she was drowning in a sea of people. It was so loud in the place that her ears were ringing. She couldn’t even hear the music anymore, she was unaware the song had finished and a new one was being played. She broke through the crowd, sucking in a quick breath as she realized she was free of the constraints of people around her.

The restroom was close by, and she stopped just outside the door to chug the alcohol from the cup Emma had just brought her. It was gone within a few seconds. She didn’t care about the sticky drops landing on her chest or the few rolling down her lips, smudging her lip gloss and tracing light lines in her makeup. The bathroom was cold, arctic cold at that. It was a feeling of utter relief to be free of the music, the crowd, the lights.

She stumbled to the sinks, almost forgetting the height of her shoes. Her hands gripped the cold porcelain of the sink in the farthest corner of the bathroom. The fuzzy feeling in her head hadn’t faded yet. She stared at the sink bowl, the silver lined drain gazing back up at her. (Y/n) spent far longer in the restroom than she meant to.

After ten minutes of her being gone, Emma decided she was going to check on (Y/n). She was in still in the restroom, and after Emma asked her several times if she was alright or feeling upset, they chose to return to the front of the crowd. (Y/n) convinced her friend that she was just having an upset stomach from the drinks, despite them stopping by the bar so she could get another before they got back to the stage. Emma didn’t think anything of it and just assumed that since it had been a while since (Y/n) had alcohol, maybe she really was just having a stomach ache.

The band continued on for a while longer, taking a few breaks here and there to drink water and take requests. (Y/n) considered submitting a song to Niall, but she was hesitant to. Besides, several other songs had been yelled out from the crowd, along with some people pushing their way to the front to the stage to call out a song title. She assumed this wouldn’t be the last time Emma drug her out to one of Niall’s shows, so she’d just request something next time. Instead of waiting around for the final song, she returned to the bar on her own and ordered a shot. The memories of her brother were faded by now, but she was determined to flood them out with alcohol. Tonight was supposed to be fun anyway, not filled with sadness.

Emma cheered loud for the band as they finished their last song and said a quick thank you to everyone. (Y/n) was perched on a bar stool, her eyes filling with stars as she stared at the bar, trying to stay awake. The usual dj returned to the stage to get the music going for the patrons of the bar. It was obvious that some people only showed for the live music because a good bit exited out the door once the set was over, but it was still a pretty big crowd in the building.

“Hey! There you are!” Emma shouted as she walked to the bar, her hand reaching out to take (Y/n)’s. “Feeling okay?”

“Yeah. Just got some water.” She presented a drunken smile as she held up the small cup of ice water.

“Good! You need to take a break.” Emma grinned back, glad to see that (Y/n) was enjoying herself, but wary of how much she had consumed. “C’mon, Niall and the others are gonna be in the back room for the rest of the night.”

“Okay.” (Y/n) didn’t really have a choice on what to do as Emma yanked her off the bar stool and towards the beaded curtain she noticed earlier. It was sparkling from the lights reflecting on the crystals. “Where are we going?”

Emma gave her a laugh, amused by her obvious buzzed behavior, and just pulled her through the curtain. (Y/n) smacked a few strands of beads away from her face as they tried to tangle up in her hair. The same music that was playing in the main room was also playing in this one. She was intrigued by the new setting, curious to know what kind of important people would be filling it. Was it just for the bar’s usual customers or did you have to have some kind of pass? She wasn’t sure, the disco ball hanging from the ceiling distracted her and made the thoughts dissipate. Her eyes shifted around the room as she took in the new sights. Heavy velvet curtains dripped from the ceilings, covering the walls but not actually any windows they were simply decorations. There were three big, fancy leather sectionals placed in the room - two in each corner and one in the middle of the wall. Curtains hung to separate them, but they appeared to be pulled back tonight. Glowing purple lights centered on short tables in the middle of each couch lit up the leather, making everything seem magical and ethereal. She couldn’t miss the stripper’s pole that was in the middle of the small dance floor, elevated a few feet off the ground on an even smaller stage.

“Hi, Emma!” A girl appeared in front of them, and (Y/n) recognized her as the girl who was playing the keyboard on stage. The girl’s natural red hair was glowing under the mix of lights flashing in the room. “Who’s this beauty?”

Emma grinned, letting go of (Y/n)’s hand so she could gesture to her. “This is my friend, (Y/n). We live together.”

“Oh, nice to meet you!”

(Y/n) mustered up a polite smile and a small wave. “Hi.”

“This is Michelle.” Emma said, glancing at (Y/n) to make sure she was okay.

“You were awesome on stage.” She said to the girl who’s eyes she found to be pretty, the piercing icy blue lighting up even in the dark room.

“Thank you!” She nodded towards the table in the back corner. “I think we’ve claimed that one for the night if you girls wanna sit.”

“Sure!” Emma followed behind her, which led (Y/n) to do the same.

Michelle and Emma plopped down on the leather couch, immediately starting up a conversation as (Y/n) sat next to them, but not as close as they were together. She let her eyes move around the room again, searching for a familiar face. There were a handful of people already in the room, most of which were talking to a girl to place their drink orders. She moved her head a little, trying to see past someone. In that same moment, a security guard pulled back the beaded strings and let a group of people in. By the way they were dressed and how some of them had a smug look on their faces, she assumed these were the higher paying patrons of the establishment. Emerging from behind that crowd, (Y/n) saw Niall brush past the beads. His eyes roamed around until he spotted them in the back.

“Oh, there’s the guys.” Michelle nudged Emma to get her attention as she pointed towards them.

“Finally!” Emma jumped up as Niall got closer to them, she was ready to pounce on him. Their eyes met and he put on a big smirk for her, just as excited as she was to finally get his hands on her.

“Have you met everyone else?” Michelle asked as she slid over next to (Y/n), their thighs touching as she offered a kind smile.

“I’ve met Zayn.” She said with a soft sigh. “Kinda met Harry, but not really.”

“Oh, well, that’s Cory!” Michelle pointed to the guy that walked past Niall and Emma as they hugged and twirled each other around. “He plays bass.”

(Y/n) gave her a nod, silently letting her know she was paying attention. The guy approached the couch before Niall did, since Emma was holding things up with her pecks to his cheeks and lips. He gave Michelle a smile and shot his eyes to (Y/n). His brows furrowed and he held his hand out in a loosely pointing gesture towards her.

“Don’t think we’ve met.” He said, his confused look morphing to a smile as he sat in the spot across from her. “Niall told me Emma had a friend coming. (Y/n), right?”

“Yeah, that’s me.” She turned her lips up, giving him a gentle nod of her head.

“Not drinking tonight?” Michelle asked him with a cock of her brow as she noticed his empty hands.

He laughed back. “Harry’s bringing us a round.”

“Oh, of course he is.”

“Hey, (Y/n)!” Niall greeted her with a loud voice, happy to see that she was finally apart of their small crew. “How was the show?”

Emma took a seat on the opposite side of the coach, letting Niall claim the place closest to Cory. “I think she loved it!”

“It was so good. You guys are amazing.”

“Saw me shredding the fuck out of that guitar, yeah?” He joked, getting a laugh out as everyone rolled their eyes and smiled at him.

“You killed it, for sure.” (Y/n) took a sip of her water, wishing she had more than that was left in the cup.

“What are you drinking?” Michelle asked curiously.

She pushed out a breath. “Just water right now. I.. had a few already.”

“Your outfit is stunning. I love the top.”

Emma beamed as she heard the compliment. “I told you, (Y/n), you look so hot tonight!”

“I’ll say.” Michelle teased just as her phone buzzed in her hand, her eyes falling down to check the message.

(Y/n) felt a bit of uneasiness building in her stomach as she realized she was feeling out of place all of a sudden. Cory was also focused on his phone while Emma had thrown her leg over Niall’s lap and her arm around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. While she wasn’t with complete strangers, she didn’t really know Michelle and Cory. The only other person she knew hadn’t come over here yet, Zayn wasn’t anywhere near that she could see. Emma was distracted with Niall, leaving (Y/n) to fend for herself. She swallowed a lump that was forming in her throat and ran her hand over the ends of her skirt, adjusting it on the tops of her thighs. She reverted back to those insecure thoughts she had while on the drive here. Michelle was skinnier than Emma was, leaving her to feel even more vulnerable and uncomfortable. She tried to ignore it by picking up her head, wanting her eyes to catch something interesting to stare at for a bit - but instead she saw someone she recognized coming their way, two people actually.

“The party’s here!” Michelle announced as she, too, looked up and saw what was heading their way.

Everyone looked up to see Zayn walking to them, a girl on his arm, and Harry leading one of the bartenders from the front room to the table. The woman had a tray of beers balanced on her palm. Zayn sat down next to Niall, the woman holding onto his elbow sitting beside him. (Y/n) figured that was Alyssa - Emma had mentioned her several times while telling stories. The bartender sat the tray down and replied as Niall and Cory both thanked her for bringing them out. She disappeared, leaving them to all to reach for a cup.

“Take one, take one. Drink this damn shit.” Harry yelled with a joyful tone as he grabbed a cup before taking the space next to Michelle.

“Shit, I forgot to tell Harry about (Y/n).” Niall said with a groan, glancing at Emma as he got them each a cup.

“What?” Harry smacked his lips as he heard his name, not sure what Niall was referring to.

“My friend, (Y/n). She was with me at the shop when I got my tattoo.” Emma said, motioning her hand to where (Y/n) was sitting.

Harry leaned up to look past Michelle towards the person he had only briefly laid his eyes on before. He shrugged his shoulders, seemingly not concerned with her presence.

“I got the usual number, so she’s shit out of luck.” He casually said the harsh words.

Emma stood up to pass the drink to (Y/n). “She can have mine! Here, (Y/n), I’m not drinking anything else.”

She gladly took it and brought the cup to her lips, taking just a sip. That caught Zayn’s attention. He jolted up, pointing towards her with a grin on his face.

“Hey! I need to see you chug that since you’re so good at it.”

Emma clapped her hands together, remembering that she’s mentioned (Y/n)’s secret talent to him before. “C’mon, (Y/n)! Show ‘em how it’s done.”

“No, no. Not tonight.” (Y/n) let out a nervous laugh and slowly sipped the beer. It wasn’t her favorite drink, but she wasn’t going to be rude and turn down the offer.

Niall let a smirk grow on his lips. “I need to witness this, too. C’mon, we’ll get ya another one.”

She shook her head again. “I can’t, I might throw up. I’ve had a few.”

“What is it, can she chug quick?” Cory asked, leaning his elbow on his knee as he was now curious with the excitement coming from them.

“Fast as fuck, Cory. I swear, she’s insane.” Emma said with a proud smile.

“She’s exaggerating.” (Y/n) shook her head, trying to hide her flushing cheeks by turning her head.

Niall stood up, his cup still full, and stepped around the table to where (Y/n) was sitting. He grabbed her hand and yanked her up to her feet, laughing as she stumbled but quickly caught herself. Emma was cheering her on, knowing that Niall was about to challenge her.

“C’mon! Let’s see who can finish first.” Niall said, hitting his cup against hers, the liquid sloshing around in the clear plastic.

She let out a heavy sigh and rolled her eyes at them, aware that she wouldn’t hear the end of it if she chose not to do it. She cleared her throat, took a deep breath, and nodded.

“Fine.”

Niall boasted with excitement, screaming like his favorite team just won a game. Emma watched with a wide grin, her hands clasped together - she hadn’t seen (Y/n) have this much fun in a while, so she was ecstatic over it. Cory counted them down from three. (Y/n) relaxed her throat and let the liquid flow into her mouth. She closed her eyes, trying to dissociate herself so that she didn’t think about drinking quickly. The trick was to forget what you were actually doing and just.. do it. She was fairly good at the trick, seeming to perfect it. Niall still had about a third of his beer left when she dropped the cup on the table, not a single drop let.

Michelle jumped up and raised her hands high, screeching loud as she felt like she witnessed a miracle. Emma was laughing hard at the drop of Cory’s jaw and the impressed smirk on Zayn’s face.

“Fuck.” Niall choked out as he finished, his hand covering his stomach as he felt the beer rushing down his body.

“It’s all in the throat.” (Y/n) joked as she gave him a playful shove.

Niall chuckled, patting her on the back as if she achieved something so great. “M’glad you’re better with your throat than I am with mine.”

“Wait, wait. Now I’m feeling competitive.” Cory said with a laugh, glancing at his own drink that was still full.

“I can do one more, but that’s it.” (Y/n) said, her stomach bubbling from the contents filling it.

“Here. I barely drank any.” Michelle offered up her beer, more focused on the entertainment than drinking it herself.

“C’mon, let’s do it.” Cory jumped up, ready to put his previous years of being in a fraternity to the test.

Niall led the count this time, and as soon as the word ‘go’ left his mouth, (Y/n) had her lips on the rim of the cup, tipping it back into her mouth. Everyone watched again with amazement as laughter and cheers filled the space they shared. Well, all but one let out a joyful noise. Harry was sitting against the back of the couch with his arm over his chest, watching but seeming to not be amused by it. He thought Cory was being a flirt and Niall was just weak because he couldn’t get it down quicker than this girl.

“Damn, you’re good.” Cory couldn’t even finish his drink, he just gave up.

(Y/n) sat back down next to Michelle, who was definitely her newest cheerleader. Michelle had heard some positive things about (Y/n), so she was glad she was enjoying her company.

“I told you she was good.” Emma said with a smirk as if she had placed bets and won.

“Got a throat on you, for sure.” Cory sighed out as he fell against the couch, his gut churning.

Harry scoffed to himself. “Throat like a whore.”

Niall heard the comment, but he wasn’t sure who else did. He shot Harry a stern glare, but he obviously didn’t care. Michelle slid her arm around (Y/n)’s back and tightly gripped her shoulder, pulling them closer together.

“This girl is a champ.” She declared. “Welcome to the group, (Y/n). You’re officially one of the girls.”

Cory lifted his hand in a pretend toast. “It was an honor to get my ass kicked.”

“That’s a talent right there.” Zayn added, having not said that much tonight but he was definitely paying attention.

“That’s kind of gross.” Harry added to the conversation, a cocky smirk on his lips as he looked away from (Y/n).

She furrowed her brows lightly, catching what he said this time. “You’re probably just scared I’d beat you, too.”

It was most definitely the alcohol that was causing her to speak so freely to the person she knew the least about in the group of people surrounding her. Sure, she was confident in herself when she wasn’t sober and she wouldn’t let a rude comment slide by unnoticed, but she was ready to spit out another line if he tested her patience.

Harry snarled his lip up, not liking that she was speaking to him in that manner. “Please, you wish.”

Michelle was never one to shy away from talking back to Harry, so when she added a few words, (Y/n) was pleased to know she wasn’t fighting this battle alone. “You’re such a douche. You’d probably cry if she out drank you.”

Harry shot her a glance, but he wasn’t concerned with his friend’s comment. He wasn’t too content with the idea of some random girl he didn’t know coming into his circle of friends and grabbing all the attention. Maybe he was jealous, or maybe he really was just a douche.

“I wouldn’t be braggin’ about a loose throat.” He sat up, his elbows hitting his knees as he eyed (Y/n) with a cold stare. “Probably take down dicks faster than beer.”

(Y/n) didn’t feel comfortable with him staring at her like he wanted to throw his fists into her body. She pursed her lips in an effort to let it go, not wanting to start any unwanted drama among her newfound friends - well, some of them were friends. Emma nudged Niall and mumbled to him about controlling his friend, but Niall knew there wasn’t much he could do.

“Give it a rest, Harry.” He sighed out, knowing that if he didn’t at least try then Emma would be upset with him.

Harry let out an unamused laugh. “Truth hurts, Horan.”

“Y’don’t have to be a dick about it, Harry. Give the girl some respect.” Zayn added, taking a sip of his drink after. He was staring at the table, not even wanting to give Harry the extra attention of a spared glance.

“All m’saying is it’s not that impressive.” Harry shrugged, standing up so he could make an exit from the group and go occupy himself with something else. But before he walked away, he stopped in front of Michelle and let his eyes fall down to the girl he knew nothing about. “Does your mother know you drink like a grown man?”

“Har-“ Emma tried to quickly intervene, but it was too late. (Y/n) was already responding to him.

“My mom’s dead. So, no, probably not.” Her cold tone and narrowed eyes made

Harry gently furrowed his brows. He heard exactly what she said, but he didn’t seem to care. Niall got up to grab his elbow, knowing that he should do something before any more hurtful comments were made.

“C’mon.” He pulled Harry away from the seating area, mumbling something about him needing to relax.

“Sorry about him.” Cory was the first to apologize as Niall and Harry disappeared into the small crowd.

(Y/n) fell back against the couch, her arms crossing over her chest. She licked her lips and nodded to him, not wanting to talk for fear of losing control of her emotions. Michelle gently rested her hand atop (Y/n)’s thigh, not wanting to be too overbearing but hoping to give her some comfort.

“I’m sorry, (Y/n). I told Niall to make sure he was nice tonight.” Emma frowned, knowing that the comment Harry made would haunt (Y/n) for the next few days, if not longer.

“Yeah, he’s a bit of a dick.” Michelle said, a disappointment expression covering her features. “He doesn’t do well with change and.. I guess you being here is changing things. But it’s not your fault.”

“It’s fine. I.. I’m just going to ignore it.”

(Y/n) felt a burn in her chest that wasn’t from the drinks she downed minutes ago. This was a type of feeling erupting from the insults she caught. She was so upset with what was said to her, not just the thing about her mother, but more than that.. she was confused as to what she did that warranted that sort of treatment. Had she been rude to him by not greeting him like she did the others? He was so standoffish though, he didn’t appear to want to be spoken to. He acted like she wasn’t even sitting there when he walked up, even though he looked at her when he saw her next to Michelle. Was something said about her to him from someone else that he didn’t find appealing? Had Zayn not liked her when they met the second time, perhaps he made a comment to Harry? No, she shook that thought off. Zayn seemed to enjoy her company.

Cory mentioned something about getting a few shots, to which (Y/n) just nodded and agreed that it would be fun. He left the girls and Zayn alone, which made Zayn start up a conversation. (Y/n) was listening, but she wasn’t contributing. All she could think about was the rude behavior Harry displayed towards her. Surely, there must have been something she did to him. She couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Over towards the beaded curtain that was rattling from the vibrations of the music pounding through the building, Niall stood in front of Harry with a clearly irritated look on his face. Harry leaned against the wall, listening with a blank stare as Niall scolded him.

“Are you fucking serious? Why are you so rude?” Niall spat out, throwing his hands up in the air as the disbelief stuck in his mind. “Emma invited her out, you have no right to be such a dick to her.”

“I don’t fuckin’ know the chick.” Harry shrugged, not caring to listen to Niall’s parenting but he knew he couldn’t escape just yet.

“It doesn’t matter, Harry. I told you she was going to be here tonight and to be fuckin’ polite to her. At least treat her like she’s a person and not a piece of garbage.”

Harry huffed and moved his eyes to Niall’s. “I don’t know her. I don’t care about being polite to her.”

Niall shook his head, not believing what he was hearing. “Get to fuckin’ know her then. She’s not going anywhere, that’s Emma’s friend. Act like you have sense.”

“Look, I didn’t fuckin’ know her mom was dead.”

Niall wanted to wring his neck, he wasn’t getting the point. “It doesn’t matter! Act nice. Pretend to have a fuckin’ heart for once.”

Harry pushed himself off the wall, the conversation now boring him. He gave Niall a wave before deciding it was best if he just found a distraction for the rest of the night. Niall couldn’t quite understand why he was being so rude to (Y/n), but there was nothing else that he could say. If his words worked, then that would be a miracle.

(Y/n) sat there quietly for a handful of minutes, ignoring the small talk that was going on around the table. Her eyes were roaming out through the crowd that had thickened since Niall stormed off with Harry in tow. The pole fixed to the ceiling was now occupied by a dancer in a lace bodysuit, strategically placed rips and holes scattered on the fabric. She seemed to have some of the people’s attention. One person she didn’t have, though, was Harry, and (Y/n) took notice of that only because she saw him with his forearm secured around some woman’s waist. He had pulled her close to him, smirking and biting his lips as the woman spoke to him.

(Y/n) wasn’t intending on finding him in the crowd to gaze at him, it just sort of happened. She was unfamiliar with the surroundings, so her eyes fixated on something she recognized - even if it wasn’t the nicest person she’d ever met. He was completely unaware of anything happening around him, all he was concerned with was what lived between that woman’s legs. The sight of him groping her ass and leaning down to whisper things in her ear left a nasty taste in (Y/n)’s mouth. She found it unpleasant to witness. That sort of thing should be private.

Michelle suddenly interrupted her trance with a pat to her leg before she stood up. “Do you wanna dance?”

(Y/n) looked up and let out a nervous laugh. “I think I’m okay sitting here for a bit.”

Michelle groaned and grabbed her hand, tugging her up with all her strength. “C’mon! Let’s go have some fun!”

She couldn’t stop Michelle from dragging her into the crowd, so she just let it happen. Emma gave her an encouraging cheer before they vanished from the table. The girls were shoving between people to find a more open spot on the dance floor, and once Michelle was pleased with where they ended up, she turned towards (Y/n) and grabbed onto her waist. She decided it was best to just let all those thoughts about the things Harry said and the way he acted go. Tonight was meant for fun, not dwelling. She relaxed her body and began swaying to the music with Michelle.

“That ass!” Michelle teased in a loud shout as (Y/n) shook her hips to the song that was blasting through the ceiling.

All she could do was laugh as a layer of blush covered her cheeks. The music was rattling the building and the alcohol was still cycling through her veins. She was enjoying herself again, no longer fixated on that song or those comments. It wasn’t long until Emma and Niall appeared next to them. Emma turned towards them while Niall placed himself behind her, hands secured on her waist. The three of them danced and sang along with the music while Niall mostly laughed and kept his hands on Emma.

(Y/n) had been nervous about going out tonight - not only going to a new place, but meeting a group of new people. She was worried that her first impression wouldn’t be good, that they wouldn’t like the energy she brought. It was obvious that all of them, aside from Harry, actually enjoyed her company. Even though she didn’t get a chance to talk to a few of them, like Alyssa, the way she did Michelle, she was confident that her impression was well made. The pulsing of the music through her ears pushed out the thoughts regarding Harry. Maybe he was just in a bad mood, or maybe he was just a bitter person. She didn’t know for sure, and she didn’t care that much anymore.

Niall disappeared to get himself a beer, leaving Emma to take (Y/n)’s hand and lift it in the air, jumping to the beat of the song and screaming the lyrics. Michelle was thrilled to have another girl to be around, and she hoped that it wouldn’t be the last time they saw each other. She knew she’d have to beg Emma to let her and (Y/n) get together again. (Y/n) wasn’t surprised by Emma’s energetic, sober performance. She didn’t need alcohol running in her system to enjoy a good song. The night was starting to feel endless and free, in the best way. That wouldn’t last too long, though.

At some point, her eyes were absentmindedly looking over Michelle’s shoulder and were pretty much out of focus until her brain registered that familiar face again. Harry. She tried to look away, but she couldn’t force herself to as she saw that same woman he was with earlier place her lips on his. Something deep inside of her gut churned and she furrowed her brows at her own thoughts. She shook her head lightly and cut her eyes away from them. Almost as if there was a gravitational pull she couldn’t stop, her eyes shifted back to him after a few seconds.

His hair was slick with sweat, his curls shining under the flashing lights. The sweat on his skin shined like diamonds as the woman ran her hand down his forearm. Her nails scratched over the tattoo he showed off at the shop, veins popped out and skin tight around his muscles. It was like she noticed every single thing about him. Someone got in her way, blocking her view entirely. She huffed and looked towards Emma, who was still singing happily to the song playing.

(Y/n) was genuinely confused as to why she was thinking about him so much. Why did she care what he was doing? Why did she care who he was with? She hardly knew him. She rolled her eyes to herself and lifted her head in time to see Niall walking up, three drinks in his hand. He offered one to her and one to Michelle. They cheered together, laughing as Niall stumbled his way back to Emma. She jumped back into the song and started singing again, enjoying herself for the rest of the night.

—•—

When morning rolled over, (Y/n) didn’t move an inch in her bed until well after eleven o’clock. She knew Emma would sleep in with Niall, so she didn’t bother trying to be up before them. Niall stayed over every now and then, and of course he always requested a meal be made if the girls were up for it. (Y/n) was put on breakfast duty since Emma said she’s better at it. Niall slurred a quick beg to her last night before Emma drug him to the bedroom to get changed and tucked in. (Y/n) agreed to it, despite knowing her head would be pounding in the morning.

And it most definitely was. She groaned as she squeezed her eyes shut, the sunlight peeking through the curtains was enough to blind her. There was no point in sleeping any more of the day away, so she reluctantly got out of the bed after taking a few minutes to compose herself. Her arms stretched high above her head, her back popping as she twisted slightly. She sighed in relief, a weight was lifted from her as her body contorted with her stretches and groans.

Her trip to the bathroom presented her with a horrific reflection in the mirror. Her makeup had not been properly removed before she fell into her bed last night, and her hair was a wreck. She debated on taking a shower, but eventually decided it would be best to get it over with. Emma and Niall were still passed out down the hall, so she wasn’t worried about waking anyone or not having the food done in time. Niall would definitely still want breakfast no matter the time.

After her quick shower, she got changed into a set of loungewear and headed to the kitchen. She gathered all the items from the refrigerator and the cabinets, staying mindful of Niall’s large appetite. He did say he would throw in some money on their next grocery run, so she wasn’t concerned with rationing any particular item. She wasn’t in there very long by herself. Emma strolled in after a few minutes, having smelled the food starting to cook.

“Good morning, sunshine.” (Y/n) smirked as she saw Emma’s tired expression and tangled hair.

“Morning.” She mumbled back. “Niall slept like an animal last night.”

“Did he move around a lot?”

Emma groaned. “A lot? He moved constantly. Usually he doesn’t. I’m so tired.”

(Y/n) held back a laugh and just smiled. Emma sat down at the dining table, her eyes focused on what (Y/n) was doing. She just watched in silence for a while, too tired to say anything. They were by themselves for the majority of the cooking process. The bedroom door opened down the hall, but the bathroom door shut moments after. Niall spent a bit of time in the bathroom, which made Emma groan and hope that he wasn’t throwing up or suffering a bad hangover. He had quite a few drinks.

Eventually, almost the same time the food was ready, he walked in the kitchen with a smile on his face. Emma rolled her eyes as he tried to give her a kiss and a hug, and an apology about sleeping so roughly. (Y/n) let out a chuckle as he threw his hands up in defeat.

“Thanks for cooking, (Y/n).” Niall said once he fixed his plate and sat down at the table with them.

“You’re welcome.”

Emma looked up from her plate and gave Niall a stern glare. He was confused at first, but when she shot her gaze to (Y/n), he miraculously remembered the conversation they had in the middle of the night when he woke Emma up complaining about his head hurting. It took them a while to fall back asleep, so they just talked for a bit.

He cleared his throat after taking a sip of his water. “Um, (Y/n).”

(Y/n) looked his way. “Yeah?”

Niall took in a deep breath and slowly pushed it out. He seemed a bit hesitant at first, but he was trying to figure out what to say. He licked his lips and leaned back in his chair, forgetting the food for now.

“I want to apologize to you.”

(Y/n) dropped her brows, spared Emma a glance, then looked back to him. “What?”

He lightly sighed. “Harry.”

She was still unsure what Niall meant for a few moments, but suddenly everything came crashing back into her mind. She adjusted herself in the chair and started picking at the pancake with her fork, not really wanting to bring it back up but knowing she can’t avoid it now.

“It’s fine, Niall.”

“No, it isn’t.” Emma said, just as embarrassed by the situation as Niall was.

“He said some shitty things to you.. and I’m sorry. I.. I didn’t want that to happen, none of us did. Zayn sent me a text this morning telling me to tell you he was sorry, too.”

(Y/n) swallowed gently, surprised that someone else had reached out about the situation. She thought what happened was unfortunate, but she didn’t think she’d receive such a reaction from them. Emma had a frown fixed on her lips as she kept her eyes on Niall, waiting for him to continue.

“The last thing Emma and I wanted was for you to think our friends didn’t like you. They do, they really do. I can’t speak for him but.. the rest of us are sorry.”

“Niall, it’s not that big of a deal, I promise.” (Y/n) tried to sail past it, but it wasn’t going to go down that easy.

“Yes it is, (Y/n).” He breathed out. “He’s an ass and he says some messed up things. We’re all used to it.. and you aren’t. You shouldn’t have been spoken to that way.”

For a second, she was just ready to ignore it all again, but she changed her mind. Niall was genuinely upset and trying his best to make up for it, and she could tell Emma felt the same way. She remembered how everyone reacted when Harry said what he said last night. She thought about the way she saw Cory pinch his nose and shake his head in disbelief, and how Alyssa smacked Zayn’s arm in an attempt to get him to intervene. She remembered all the little things each of them did and how they all seemed to be in shock, embarrassed, or annoyed with it.

“Okay.. I accept the apology.” She finally said, trying to give him the best smile she could. “I promise, it’s okay.”

“I’ll beat his ass if he says something like that to you again.” Emma crossed her arms over her chest and huffed.

Niall couldn’t resist laughing at her, and (Y/n) quickly joined her. Although the previous night had a rollercoaster of events, she was glad that she had this new group of people to consider as her friends. For now, she’d just forget about Harry and focus on the positive memories she was able to create. As far as she was concerned, she would be perfectly fine if she never saw him again.

[a/n: I’ve been very sick these past few days but I wanted to get this out so pls ignore any spelling mistakes and all that, I’ll fix them later. if you want to be on the taglist, let me know! anyways, hope you enjoy this! love uuu! Also just a reminder that while this is lhh, he’s older in this series than actual lhh was]

-> this is a temporary message I will delete later on::: if it bothers you that I did not name this character and you think I should based on how I’ve written her so far, feel free to vote on a name change.. if you don’t care about it, also feel free to select that and submit your vote! Here

taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @victoriasigaard @ariiscringe @harlowsgirl l @lomllover @haniaaa04 @sideboobrry11 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @fangirl509east @fruity-harry @sassamanda77 @lizsogolden @prettygurl-2009 @boopookie @mypolicemanharryyy

[girl-debord]

River's 13 Punk & Metal Albums of 2024

13. Paprika - Let's Kill Punk

As one of the more conventional hardcore albums on this list, Paprika's debut LP stands out by doubling down on everything I love about the genre. The bass is rough, rough, rough, and the vocals sound like they were recorded in a storm drain, giving the album an almost-live quality. The only thing it loses points for is being so short, but even that's in the spirit of hardcore.

Favorite track: Greasy Pig Disease

12. drive your plow over the bones of the dead - tragedy as catharsis

I know, I know. Yes, Gen X followers, it's an emoviolence album. If the high-pitched vocals & aversion to capitalization don't scare you off, I think you'll enjoy how this sound is pushing the powerviolence formula forward. It is possible to be sad & kick ass at the same time.

Favorite track: arrangement

11. Traumatizer - Traumatizer

This is a 12-minute/7-song hardcore debut that won me over almost instantly. The vocals remind me a bit of early Nausea, and the bass-forward breakdowns are scratching that NJ hardcore itch that I've had since Sick Shit broke up.

Favorite track: Outnumbered

10. Paysage D'Hiver - Die Berge

Paysage D'Hiver embodies that horseshoe theory approach to atmospheric black metal--when you make something noisy & lo-fi enough, it starts to sound ambient. To put it a different way, this album has more in common with a lot of my favorite dungeon synth releases than most conventional metal. It uses repetition to its advantage & really gets that bleak, wintry vibe across. That being said, how often do I have nearly two hours to dedicate to a single album? Maybe a girl with a longer commute would rank this one a little higher.

Favorite track: Transzendenz II

9. Thou - Umbilical

It's been way too long since we had a proper Thou album. Needless to say, I was stoked about this one. Umbilical is overall less sludgy, often speeding things up for more hardcore- and grunge-adjacent tracks, but it keeps the vocal style and metal guitar sounds that Thou is so known for. It doesn't feel as thematic or directional as most of their earlier releases, but it gets at the stuff I like without being similar enough to feel stagnant.

Favorite track: I Feel Nothing When You Cry

8. Poison Ruïn - Confrere

Poison Ruïn left themselves big shoes to fill with last year's Härvest, but that's one of my favorite albums of all time, so I'm trying to cut them some slack. The new sound they bring with Confrere is a little less focused on stenchore-nostalgic riffs and has more in common with old-school hardcore. It works really well on a few notable songs--like the title track--but the rest of the album feels a bit like filler (even the dungeon synth parts, which are still pretty strong). I think there's just not enough going on on this album to turn a few great songs into a great album--but damn, those great songs really are great.

Favorite track: Execute

7. Bootlicker - 1000 Yd. Stare

I somehow missed this album when it came out in May, so when I finally listened to it a couple weeks ago, I had to totally rearrange this list to fit it in. It's worth it--Bootlicker brings an unlikely combination of clunky d-beat production & oi-tinged vocals that ended up sticking with me more than I expected it to. The band also seems to have hit its stride in using the military/military-fetish theming to maximum caustically-ironic effect.

Favorite track: Mercy Dog

6. S.H.I.T. - For A Better World

Some of the best drumming from this year in the vehicle of an extremely short lo-fi hardcore record. It feels like a Discharge demo tape performed with a sneer and stimulants. I only wish it was longer, even just that last track could keep going for 10 minutes & this might be my #1 pick.

Favorite track: Imminent Destruction

5. Lagrimas - A Life of Destruction

I've been keeping up with Lagrimas for a few years and I'm excited to say that their first LP cashes in--and improves--on everything I love about their recorded material up to this point. The grind drum licks, the lacrimose emo guitars, the post-rock song structures--it's all here & turned up to 11. The Habak features are great, but the band really stands on its own now. If I had to pick something to complain about, it would be the extended dialogue sampled in the middle of the album, but even that contributes to the overall tone. More than anything, I'm really excited to see people my age doing something new with the crust punk genre.

Favorite track: Cultural Destruction.

4. Trhä - ∫um'ad∂ejja cavvaj

Damián Ojeda's project Trhä had crossed my path before with albums that combined black metal & dungeon synth with a mix of softer electronic sounds and danceable drum machine tracks. This album, on the other hand, is much more traditional, but I find myself drawn to it because of that--it seems to descend into a primordial era of black metal where the realms of crust punk and death metal aren't so far away. Maybe that's only the hallucination of a poor traveller lost in the world of Trhä's atmospheric invention, missing her precious d-beats, but the madness this album has afflicted me with isn't going anywhere. The tremolo picking starts to sound like bowed strings & juggles minor and major keys under howling vocals. I'm totally entranced.

Favorite track: ah qältak da £ä Kado£ m £ä Nahatlav

3. POLLUTE. - Microplastics, Massive Profits

https://pollute.bandcamp.com/album/microplastics-massive-profits

POLLUTE's demo tape back in May had already put them on my list of acts to keep an eye on. This album is everything I had hoped to see from them, and so shortly after that first release too. In a genre as niche as d-beat punk, it's impressive to get so much variety on a single album--at only 20 minutes long, no less. "Castle Freaks" does something to the style I've never heard before, and I can't wait to hear more innovations like it--and that's not even the high point of the album for me. POLLUTE's got the right mix of cruster craziness & hardcore deliberateness, bringing very controlled breakdowns to their most off-the-walls tracks. It rules.

Favorite track: Cancer They Create

2. Lifeless Dark - Forces of Nature's Transformation

https://lifelessdark.bandcamp.com/album/forces-of-natures-transformation

The first time I heard this, I stood there with my mouth open through, like, the first three tracks. I just can't believe anyone is making music like this in 2024. Holy shit. The reverb-y vocals, the Bolt-Thrower-esque riffage, it's all perfect. Lifeless Dark doesn't just worship the stenchcore gods, they understand them.

Favorite track: Feeding the Light

1. Kriegshög - Love & Revenge

https://lavidaesunmus.bandcamp.com/album/love-revenge

There's nothing like a band you've never been super attached to releasing a completely flawless album. From the first note I just couldn't believe what I was hearing--it's an incredible balance of being legible and--dare I say it--catchy while being totally uncompromising on the drive of d-beat hardcore. The vocals are shouted with just a hint of a shriek that gives the lyrics an urgency unhindered by language barriers. The guitars are fuzzy and distorted but kept under tight control, passing melodies back & forth and dropping out to let the drums shine at key junctures. It's beautiful. It's Motörhead a few decades after being abducted into a post-apocalyptic alternate universe when the bloodlust has really started to sink in. I hold Kriegshög fully responsible for making me start working on a new spiky leather jacket & knocking over college kids in the train station, plus any other acts of depravity from this year not fit to print. This album has become my mantra, my pulse, my anthem.

Favorite track: Grey Agony

[stationintern]

Hello, my friends. Seems I haven't posted one of these since April. Well, since then, I quit my job at a rather aggressive newspaper ad sales department, moved to an island, got incredibly sick, stayed incredibly sick and moved home, and am now generally... doing nothing. This, though, seems to have bolstered my enthusiasm for my favorite ship in the world. So, since I am mildly drunk off Crown Apple and cranberries, and just finished rereading one of my favorite fics of all time, I think it's time for another monthly rec list! Let's go!

We Are Young (I'll Carry You Home Tonight) by Femme (femmequixotic) E, 68.8k

This fic is.... everything to me. As someone who was a political science major for a semester, and a Blaise Zabini lover for life, this fic injected an adrenaline rush into my veins that I thought no longer possible. If you like political jargon, pining that will make you sweat, and an extremely competent Harry Potter, PLEASE DO NOT DELAY in reading this.

Summoning by @thehoneybeet M, 650

Such beautiful poetry from a mutual whose words bolster me no matter the time or place. So succinct, yet impactful. A quick read that will leave you breathless and wanting more.

Falter by @skeptiquex E, 3.7k

Bill Weasley lovers, do I have news for you. Lots of implication, some things explicit. Generally fun and specifically deep despite its shorter word count. A great read for those that enjoy a friends with benefits relationship turned into something more.

Two To Shore by Lamplighter M, 204.8k

Jesus fucking Christ.

Anywho, I'm hoping to wade through my 50 page marked for later list and keep going! Perhaps January has something beautiful in store for us all!

XX, Moon

[lol-jackles]

I was pursuing your “Destiel” tag (thank you for posting it for that anon, btw, and bringing it back to my attention), and came across this statement from you:

“As a result, douchy Jensen + going off script = other actors trying to cope. My favorite was 2016 because that was when my girlfriend leaned close to the screen and said, "Jared, blink twice if you're being held against your will". Since then Jared had figured out how to handle these ~unscripted~ moments, but Misha hasn't.”

What was the moment in particular at 2016 JIB that made your girlfriend say that? Or what was Jensen going at that one? Wasn’t Gen at that one, too?

Also, what would you say Jared’s strategy has been in dealing with Jensen (when drunk) on stage at JIB? And why does Jensen seem “meaner” to Jared at JIB than at CE or AHBL cons? Which is closer to thier actual dynamic, do you think?

And I just have to add, it was pretty amusing seeing Misha momentarily (sadly not longer) regret his life choices at, was it 2019 JIB, where he pointed out the Destiel shirt and Jensen yelled about “where is it real?” Do you think Jensen was actually annoyed in this panel? I say yes, but my brother says no.

Jensen seems to keep it together more at JIBs post pandemic, but I was at JIB 13, and he gave off a huge air of just being over the whole thing by his solo Sunday panel. And he and Rich were essentially running out the clock by being loud idiots (my ears still hurt from being near a speaker).

They all claim to love JIB, but they also all seem pretty over it come Sunday.

Sorry that got long. Would love to see your response to any parts.

This was the first time I briefly talked about the infamous Jib con. Back in 2016 I used to think their co/dependent friendship was doomed at the 10-year mark because when one isn’t adjusting to the changing time, then the idolatries friendship can’t last more than 10 years at best.  I listed a few examples (X) from a feminist blog about women ending their female friendships, a woman ending her friendship with a male friend (X) Oliver Broudy’s story of ending his 10-year friendship with a college friend (X).  These friendships ended because one of them was stuck and making more and more demands on the unstuck friend.  We know happened after season 10 wrapped up (X) (X).

Anyways, what got my girlfriend's attention was Jared looking like a tug of war rope between Gen and Jensen and the boys. Regular corporate SPN cons in the U.S are already a male-dominated atmosphere bordering on frat boy shenanigans. At least there are corporate handlers and security to help keep the actors in line, plus alcohol are banned for actors. Jib cons are fan-run with no handlers and alcohol are allowed, and usually there are no actresses because the cost of the extra Jensen/Misha and Jared/Misha panels means some actors are going to get cut out and it’s usually the actresses. Without female colleagues around, the men really rile each other up at Jib cons, it’s part of their bonding and one-upmanship rituals. I think why Gen rarely participated in SPN cons is because she didn't want to be around all that dude energy. But 2016 was different because I think she blamed herself for leaving the 2015 British con early and is still traumatize that she nearly lost Jared few days later, so Gen agreed to let Jared drag bring her to Jib con. Men don’t like wives/girlfriends homing in on their bro times and Jensen was noticeable irritated that Jared’s wife was there and during the closing ceremony Jensen used air quotations marks while talking about Gen’s marriage to Jared who had his arms wrapped around her. He looked peeved at Jensen and then then laughed it off because what else could he do on stage?

(Side note: it’s not easy for men to find male friends and keeping them.  I hated the movie I love you, man because it was too familiar, and Paterson made me uneasy because Adam Driver's character has no male friends and he's more than okay with that because he has a wife.)

Jensen seems "meaner" not just to Jared but to every actor there, especially Misha. At these fan-run conventions, there are no "scripts" (guidelines actually) to follow. Most actors were still going by the guidelines from corporate-run conventions when they're on stage, but not Jensen because it's part of his upmanship as a way to both bond and dominate others. It's a Ryan Seacrest and Brian Dunkleman type situation. Maybe Jensen learned this trick from Ryan who used to be his roommate. Misha is not a natural improviser, his guest appearance on Whose Line Is it Anyways shows that, so he's the least apt at handling Jensen's off script moments. Half the time Jensen wasn't actually drunk but acts like it to avoid the inevitable asinine Destiel-loaded questions from the hellers in the audience.

Jared's strategy was about the same at pre-2016 JIB cons and CE cons because he's pretty apt at smoothing things over between Jensen and the fans. At the infamous 2013 New Jersey con a self-claiming bisexual girl tried to ask Jensen a loaded Destiel question and he snapped at her with, “don’t ruin it for everybody” and Jared immediately calmed Jensen down and salvaged the rest of the experience for sane fans.

Stuff like this is closer to their real life dynamic as the Giver and the Taker. If you read the "codependency tag", Jared the Giver cleans up the messes the Taker make. Givers think they're helping but they're actually enabling and don't improve things. Jensen's reputation took a slight hit, and it took a few years for the New Jersey con to be memory-holed. Apparently Jensen didn't learn from this and 3 years later mocked a girl wearing a "Destiel is real" shirt at the 2019 JIB. Misha told Jensen to not “fight with fans” and Jared was gesturing to a fan in the front row as if saying don’t look at me look at him. That may answer your question, Jared stopped trying to calm Jensen down and instead focus on heading off fans who gets too snippy at Jensen, like at a DC con few years back where a girl was trying to look cool but came off sounding hostile towards Jensen, so Jared left the stage and hugged the stuffings out of the girl, deflating her hostile-sounding voice.

I don't think I've seen Jensen's solo panel at JIB13, but he's usually looks like he's watching the clock during his Jared-less panels so that's nothing new. It's been the case for many years and a common complaint by fans, it's why CE stopped having solo J panels early on because Jensen needs a scene partner. It goes back to why Jensen works better as a scene-stealing supporting actor instead of a leading man. How Jensen made Dean Winchester have memorable moments was by putting his focus on the other person.  By using this method, Jensen can stop worrying about how he’s going to say his lines and speak intuitively, this helps make Dean appear truthful to the audience.  It may be why Jensen doesn’t read scripts ahead of time.   Jensen doesn’t go into a scene looking to do a scene, instead he goes in looking to be open and give over to how the other person (in this case, Jared playing Sam) makes him feel.  This method worked great for Jensen when his character has Sam to focus on, and Jensen has Jared to react to.  It’s why Dean’s dying moments with Sam in the barn works so well in the series’ finale.

.

You probably heard of the saying, “acting is reacting”.

A demon’s acting philosophy in The Good Place: “Demons have to learn that Acting Is Reacting.  And Reacting Is Pre-acting. But Pre-acting? Well, that’s just being.”  

While “acting is reacting” gets mocked in the acting community because it’s a trap alot of actors fall into by adjusting their truthful inner life to their assumptions about the text.  Good acting is adjusting the text to your authentic emotion which is the result of the other person.  This where Jensen’s good acting comes from and it’s become his comfort zone and made him a multimillionaire by his mid 30s.  He’s in what my acting coach calls “the truthful contact”, it’s where actors are taught the first stage of authentic acting.  The next stage is “crafting”.  When you’re working solo without a screen partner, your skill at crafting becomes vital.  Crafting means anywhere from ability to endow meaning to objects so they have emotional meaning is important, or effectively get across justifications and point of views.  

[fictionadventurer]

Fortnight of Books 2024: Day 1

Overall - best books read in 2024?

The Rosemary Tree by Elizabeth Goudge: The only book that has ever made me sob from the beauty of it

The Everlasting Man by G.K. Chesterton: The style is overly dense in some places, but this may be the best thing I've ever read by Chesterton

Lady Audley's Secret by Mary Elizabeth Braddon: A sensation novel with a great main character, mountains of atmosphere, and one of my new favorite writing styles

Vanity Fair by William Thackeray: Such a rollicking fun style, such a snarky narrator, such a twisty story. Fascinated me even when it frustrated me.

The Ark by Margot Benary-Isbert: Absolutely enthralled by the book's depiction of post-WWII Germany. I've never read a cozy post-apocalyptic story before.

Best series you discovered in 2024?

The only new-to-me series I read more than one novel from in 2024 was the Barchester Chronicles by Anthony Trollope. I loved both The Warden and Barchester Towers for their compassionate character work and their blend of Austen-like domesticity with church politics.

Best reread of the year?

The Q by Beth Brower. It was a favorite read of last year, but not much of the story stuck with me. This year, I was obsessed with the love story.

I also really enjoyed revisiting the rest of the Little House series. The Long Winter assured me my childhood crush on Cap Garland was not misplaced. Little Town on the Prairie in particular felt like rediscovering an old favorite, and These Happy Golden Years was such a nice reading experience that validated it as a favorite of the series.

[loregoddess]

tagged by @lookerdewitt for the 5 faves poll game!!!

Rules: make a poll with five of your all time favorite characters and then tag five people to do the same. See which character is everyone's favorite. Although, I'm also doing six so I can do gender equality

I tag...@fayesdiary, @space-spring, @youcantencryptyourface, @kelbunny, and @roaldseth, but only if you feel like it!

[aurumacadicus]

In before I start seeing people bitching about rainbow capitalism MY favorite rainbow capitalism story is about Subaru. Yes the Japanese car company.

In the nineties, they were struggling. They were competing with a dozen other companies targeting the main demographic at the time: white men ages 18-35, especially after a failed luxury car launch with a new ad agency. “What we need is to focus on niche demographics,” they decided, and then focused on people who enjoyed the outdoors. The Subaru was excellent at driving on dirt roads that many other vehicles couldn’t at the time, so it was perfect for all those off-road campers; they started making all-wheel drive standard in all their cars to help with that. And the people who wanted cars to go do outdoor stuff? Lesbians.

Okay. Of course it wasn’t only lesbians buying Subarus. They’re on the list with educators, health-care professionals, and IT people. But the point is, this Japanese car company interviewed this strange demographic (single, female head of household) and realized one important factor: They were lesbians. They liked to be able to use the cars to go do outdoorsy stuff, and they liked that they could use the cars to haul stuff rather than a big truck or van. Subaru had a choice to make then. They had four other demographics they could market to, after all--the educators, the health-care professionals, IT professionals, and straight outdoorsy couples. Their company didn’t hinge on this one “problematic” demographic.

And they decided “fuck it,” and marketed to lesbians anyway. This included offering benefits to American gay and lesbian employees for their domestic partners, so it didn’t look like a cash grab. (This was not a problem. They already offered those in Canada.)

Yes, there was some backlash. They got letters from a grassroots group accusing them of promoting homosexuality, and every letter said they’d no longer be buying from Subaru. “You didn’t buy from us before, either,” Subaru realized, and ignored them. It helped that the team really cared about the plan, and that they had many straight allies to back them up. There was also some initial backlash when Subaru hired women to play a lesbian couple in the commercial, but they quickly found that lesbians preferred more subtlety; “XENA LVR” on a license plate, or bumper stickers with the names of popular LGBTQ+ destinations, or taglines of “Get out. Stay out.” that could be used for the outdoors--or the closet.

Subaru said “We see you. We support you.” They sponsored Pride parades and partnered with Rainbow Card and hired Martina Navratilova as spokeswoman. They put their money where their mouth is and went into it whole hog. In a time where companies did not want to take our money, Subaru said, “Why not? They’re people who drive.” And that was groundbreaking.

[hon3y-y]

Roomie!sukuna; part 4

read the other parts here! : part 1 part 2 part 3

cw : smutttt & fluff<3, oblivious!reader, pervy!sukuna, sex toys, oral (m&f), p in v, dubcon(?), breeding kink, overstim, s*x tapes, somno(¿not really but maybe?), dumbification, big d*ck!sukuna, sub!reader, dom!sukuna, etc etc

*not edited*

wc ~ 6.5k

enjoy<3

Sukuna has been on lockdown since the incident with Gojo. He hasn’t spoken to you longer than five minutes in passing, always having “something” to do. It’s driving you crazy, and as much as you want to barge in and get him to speak, you noticed that trying to force proximity only made things worse and attempted to give him the space he wanted.

But you miss your best friend, the best roommate you could possibly ask for, and the silence between you started to make you feel physically ill. The guilt was eating you up inside, and you were scared that by breaking this boundary, you might have ruined everything. It felt different this time; the house felt extremely cold, unlike its usual warm and welcoming atmosphere. So, after Friday rolled around, you decided enough was enough.

You let out a breath before raising your fist to knock on his door, patiently waiting for an answer. “ryo..? it’s me.." You wanted to roll your eyes at your own words. I mean, who else could it be? You two would have bigger problems if random people were knocking on your bedroom door.

Before you could beat yourself up about it, Sukuna’s door flew open, revealing himself shirtless with a pair of grey sweats hanging loosely off his waist. He looked beyond good; that extra time spent in the gym was showing and made you want to drool. “what?”

You look up at him, feeling frustrated, confused, and a little horny by how his nonchalant attitude worked so well on him. “Ryo, I’m sorry.” Sukuna tilted his head in mock confusion.

“for?”

You let out a grunt; even when you try to be the bigger person, he always has to make it extra difficult, huh? You crossed your arms over your chest, the movement making his eyes zero in on your cleavage on perfect display through your tank top. Maybe if he does this long enough, you’ll flash him to make him feel better. Sukuna fought a smirk as he adjusted his eyesight back at your head, his face remaining stoic.

“I’m apologizing for how everything went with Gojo. I didn’t realize how much you two didn’t get along, and... Ryo, it wasn’t my intention to make you uncomfortable.”

“And yet, you brought him home?” he quirks his brow, hand reaching to grab one of his shirts and slip it on.

You let out another noise of frustration: “I thought it was a joke between you two! I mean, Gojo is really not that bad. He's sweet when you—“ Sukuna rolled his eyes, the hardening of his body language made you stop short. “That’s not important—I'm sorry, Kuna’. You should always feel comfortable in your own home, and I don't want you to think I don't value that.” You looked at him with sincerity, your hands dropping from their defensive positioning.

He stayed silent, his tongue pressing against his cheek while he thought. Sukuna scoffs, looking forward and away from you. “You’re a dumbass.”

His words made you smile, jumping up to hug him. Ryo wrapped his arms around you, a small grin on his lips when you let out a squeal. You look and sound so cute, it’d be impossible for him to stay mad. (Plus, he got to feel your soft, plushy boobs touching him which made his mouth water)

“I got our favorite snacks and have a whole list of scary movies for us to binge. no gojo included too?” You spoke, pulling away to look at him. “oh really?” He hums, his hand moving to push back some hair that covered your face. You nod, "I’ll go and get everything in the cute candy bowls we have!”

As you walk away, Sukuna leans on his door frame to watch the way your plump behind poked out of your shorts, eyes zeroing in to the exposed flesh. What a pretty little thing you are...

He pushes himself off the door and into the kitchen, standing behind you before leaning down to whisper in your ear, “You look great in those shorts, by the way.”

Before you can speak, he’s backing away and into the living room while you stand wide-eyed. it doesn’t take much for you to brush it off, sukuna is a flirt and does it to everyone, simply chalking up the comment as Ryo being a tease, nothing more. When you get inside, you notice Sukuna is man-spreading, nearly taking up most of the couch with his long legs.

You let out a huff. “Ryo, move your leg so I can sit.“

Ryomen hums, leaning further back. “What’s the magic word, princess?”

His words make you glare: “I’m not five sukuna.”

He scoffs, poking your side. “hey! I thought you wanted my forgiveness. This is just going to make me more mad.”

You bow your head, sucking your teeth in plain annoyance. “Please,” you mumble, your small voice barely being heard.

Sukuna smirks, enjoying this way more than he’s supposed to. “I’m sorry, I can’t hear you. y’need to say it louder, princess.”

You sneer, looking at him silently as if to ask if he was being serious or fucking with you, and after his face not changing once, it's safe to say he wasn’t. you clear your throat, “Please move.”

He grins, moving his leg to let you sit, which you do, but not without mumbling under your breath, setting the candy down so that you didn’t have to worry about it falling when you playfully shoved him. “You’re an ass.” Both of you laughed, with Sukuna pushing you back.

Sukuna sighs, and you notice the reluctance in his eyes before he speaks anyway, “I missed you.”

At his confession, you coo’d teasingly. “Aww, Sukuna has a soft spot!” poking his face, making him roll his eyes, and nip at your finger. although, if he’s being honest, he is anything but soft.

but you don’t need to know that. yet.

Sukuna picks a movie that has the best rating, hoping it’s enough to scare you into his arms (and it always is). You’re cuddled up to him, eating a nerd gummy cluster when you let out a high-pitched scream and cover your eyes. “What the fuck was that!?”

He lets out a chuckle, rubbing his hand down your arm to relax you. “Calm down—it wasn’t even that gory.“

“His head was just chopped off.”

“I’ve seen worse.” You glance at him with irritation before looking back at the movie. “Oh, sorry, I forgot I was watching a scary movie with Captain ‘I watched Gore at Five.’”

Sukuna didn’t need to respond, feeling you tighten around him as the movie got progressively scarier. To be completely honest, these movies were the least interesting part of the night. The way you clung to him was far more entertaining. you spent most of the time making observations about how ‘stupid’ the characters were, even joking to ease the tension, only to either jump or make some weird guttural sound that you attempted to hide with a cough or clearing on your throat. Thankfully, the movie started to play its end credits before you were scared into a premature heart attack, literally letting out a sigh of relief as the names rolled in.

Ryo stood up to bring everything inside, a bit disappointed that it was over because he was enjoying the way you relied on him for comfort. Just as he turned to exit, he was halted by you gently tugging on his arm. “Maybe we can play a game or something?”

“Are you... scared?” he chuckled.

“what!? No, I’m not—“ You let out a scream when the ending credits had a jump scare that was loud; your defense so high that you nearly punched him when he grabbed you. Sukuna stared at you with a blank expression. “Okay, it was a little scary.”

After what felt like hours of sukuna laughing, teasing, and poking fun at your fears, the two of you sat on the couch as a comedy show played in the background—anything to distract you from the thought of guts, blood, and murder. Sukuna suggested a few drinks would help you relax, so now the both of you sat on the couch, slightly tipsy, while playing a game.

you both originally tried to play monopoly, but realized how long it would take and gave up. Then you tried to play Trouble but realized half the game pieces were missing (courtesy of Sukuna’s baby brother Yuji, who decided to hide the pieces instead of play with them). and after remembering that you left both of your favorite card games at your friend's house, you opted for a more verbal one.

“Truth or dare?” he asked, eating one of his candies.

“truth”

Sukuna nodded, thinking for a second, “Have you had a recent wet dream, and if so, tell me who it was with and what happened?” He smirked, popping in a jolly rancher. “Good one, right?”

You rolled your eyes at him and retracted your words, "I pick dare.”

“Give me a lap dance.”

You let out a deep sigh. “You’re such a perv, you know that?” Sukuna nods, chewing his candy. “So, what’s it gonna be? Should I be playing some music?“

You shook your head. you debated what to do for a moment, measuring out what would cause you more embarrassment and made a decision. “I had a wet dream like..two months ago.” You refuse to look at him, instead taking a sip from the drinks he prepared for you two.

He nods, motioning for you to keep going. “I asked for a lot more than that.”

“i..don’t remember.”

He groans, “Cmon, just say it. We gotta play the game right.”

“It was about... Satoru—” Sukuna wants to stop the game, suddenly very uninterested in everything coming out of your mouth. In fact, he felt extremely tired and definitely needed to get some rest for whatever he had planned for tomorrow (nothing). “and…you.” That makes him perk up, feeling all the alcohol disappear from his body, like your words sobered him up.

“What about me?” a cocky smirk on his lips.

You take a big gulp from your glass, setting down the now-empty cup. “It was weird.” You started to explain the dream in the fastest way possible, talking about how Satoru had given you a remote vibrator and instructed you to wear it around the house. Well, Sukuna happened to be there, and after finding out, “you know...”

“I don’t know,” he replied quickly, invested in the story.

“It just got a little...rated R. and you were on the phone with toru and…yeah.. i mean, it’s not like those dreams even mean anything.” you tried to brush it off unsuccessfully.

Sukuna was rock hard, staring at you in awe. When you finished telling the story, you put your hands over your face, feeling uneasy. “Do you have one?”

“one what?” You peaked between your fingers.

“a remote vibrator?”

“That’s not part of the question.” Sukuna nods, letting it go (even though he’s never wanted an answer more in his life). “Your turn, truth or dare?”

“dare.”

The moment the words slipped from his tongue, you began to smirk, causing Sukuna to narrow his eyes, wondering what you could possibly be planning—

“Give me a lap dance.”

Ryo scoffed, shaking his head in a firm ‘no’ motion. “absolutely not, truth.”

“Tell me why you hate Satoru." Wow, well played. a double-edged sword. Why did he hate Satoru? If he were honest with himself, he didn’t have a completely good reason other than that he fucks you. Calling him annoying wasn’t completely true, and he knew you wouldn’t buy it.

What can he say anyway? ‘I hate him because while he fucks you, I'm forced to hump my fist like an out-of-control hormonal teenager and he’s living my dream. not to mention he gets all your attention while i’m left to feel like an intruder in my own home even though I had you before him’??? He’d sound like a fucking loser, and there’s no way in hell that you wouldn’t hold that shit over his head. With a sigh, he stands up, “you gonna choose the song or what?”

He can see the giddiness on your face as you immediately pull your phone out, “turn on the speaker, Kuna'” you scroll through your music, “What about this one?” You turn your phone for him to see. the song of choice? wine pon you by Doja.

Sukuna groans, “Can't you do the song that was in that movie with the male stripper?”

“pony? no. It’s been overdone.” you deadpan. He lets out a sigh, shaking his head while you grab a folding chair and place it down. “You better do it right.”

Sukuna would laugh at your comment if it wasn’t for the fact it was directed at him. While you start the music, he begins to sensually try and remove his shirt making you giggle. His body immediately goes rigid, tips of his ears turning red. “Alright, i’m not doing this if you’re gonna laugh at me the whole time—“

“i’ll stop! keep going!” You immediately cover your mouth. He lowers his sweats a bit, showing off more of his happy trail and glances up at you with an arrogant smirk. “Like it, hm?” You roll your eyes but stay quiet.

He starts off by bringing your hands up to caress him while he grinds against you, the whole thing is both attractive and funny because it’s him of all people. You can’t deny that he actually makes it look really good, especially as he kneels in front of you, leaning back on one arm while his hand drags down his torso teasingly.

He doesn’t make it through the whole song, sadly chickening out after the first chorus is over while you cheer him on, clapping. “Wait, do it again so I can record!” He laughs sarcastically before shutting off the stereo. “Fun's over.”

Once the two of you are back on the couch, he speaks up, “Truth or dare?” Just as you go to say truth, he scowls, “Don’t pick truth again, you chose it all game. What are you, 12?”

You let out a puff of air. “It’s truth or dare! not dare or dare.”

"Okay, and you picked truth all game so it’s been revoked.”

“That’s not how it works.”

“Yeah, it does.” Before you can protest, he’s already talking, “I dare you to let me go through your phone for five minutes. zero limits.”

“And what if I don't let you?” You narrow your eyes, crossing your arms.

He shrugs, “Then you lose. I mean, you lose most of the games we play anyway, so i guess it’s not new to you, hm?”

You want to argue and yell that it’s not true, but it kind of is… See, in the years you and Sukuna have lived together, you were forcibly changed from a sore loser to a quietly sulky one as to not embarrass yourself by the amount of times you and him have gone head to head and you come out the loser. You swear he cheats at most of them (he does), but there’s no evidence, and having a full-blown breakdown over board games is a little under your age range. But you technically can win this; it’s just five minutes?

You grab your phone, unlocking it to set a timer, and throw it on his lap, “Anything you find does not leave this room, you understand?” He ignores you, immediately picking it up and clicking the photos app (like a perv🙄)There’s a bunch of random photos, some screenshots of your home screen that you constantly forget to delete, and some weird selfies that make you grimace, “ew, ryo! Stop looking at it..”

He’s not really listening, though, admiring how even when you’re doing weird and stupid shit you’re just so adorable. If you weren’t intently looking over his shoulder, he would have sent them to himself (he’s so obsessed, he’d probably print them out and make a scrapbook like a little freak). It’s a side of you not shown publicly, and it makes his stomach feel warm and tingly. After about a minute of you non-stop complaining about his fascination with your stupid photos, he exits the app to open your messages.

You watch over his shoulder, cringing as he clicks on your recent chat with your newest fling, Hiromi. the whole chat full of flirty messages and light sexting, along with some photos of you in the purple lingerie set he bought you. “Should I send these to myself too?” Sukuna teases, glancing at the endearing pout you wore at his comment. He scrolled down, clicking on random chats, some more filthy than others but nothing too extreme.

He was about to click off the app when he noticed ‘toru💙’ and scoffed, “what is he? your little boyfriend?” tapping the chat to read through his messages. He wants to groan at how cute Gojo attempts to text you, using the 🥺 emoji after almost every message and using nicknames like ‘baby’ and ‘cutie’, it makes sukuna wanna barf.

While Ryo makes a remark about every “stupid” (his words) comment Satoru makes, you refuse to look, knowing the disappointment that will be very apparent in his face. You decide the ceiling is much more entertaining, resting your head on the back of the couch. see, if you were paying attention, maybe you would’ve seen him click on the shared photos icon, scrolling through until a certain thumbnail caught his eye.

It looked like him sleeping on the couch, but was too blurry to actually tell, so he decided it would be better to watch it, pressing play.

It’s very quiet as you pan the camera to where he softly snores on the couch, turning the camera back to yourself while motioning ‘shh’ as you sit on the couch across from him. You sit up, your legs spread as the camera catches a peek into your tiny shorts to show off your pretty white panties, moving the clothing to the side to show your glistening folds and what looks to be a pink tail peeking from your pussy..?

You bring the camera back up, having it far enough to capture his sleeping frame and your face, giggling quietly before your eyes flutter and a tiny whimper leaves your puffy lips, “oh—fuck!”

You were spaced out until you heard the noise, head immediately snapping up to look at what he was watching. Your stomach drops as you look at yourself literally being caught red-fucking-handed, and before you can snatch the phone away, Sukuna is standing up and turning away so you can’t. “Sukuna! Give it back, now!”

He ignores you, again, laughing at the video the longer it plays. “Oh wow, my roomie is a little porn star~” His eyes zero in to how your eyes cross, guessing that the vibrator went a little too fast and made you see stars. how cute. “And right in front of me? while i’m helpless and sleeping?” He shakes his head, glancing behind himself and at you in mock disbelief.

You’re beyond frustrated, tears of shame gathering in your eyes, “Sukuna! it’s not like that—“

“Then explain,” He turns back around to watch the video, looking at how you roll up your baggy t-shirt to expose your pretty tits. You nervously glanced behind you at his sleeping form before facing the camera again, “i hope he doesn’t wake up~” you pant, tilting the camera to focus on how you play with your swollen clit. “cause’ it looks like my pervy roommate was getting off on the fact i was unaware. hey, didn’t you say that this was just a dream? because this looks very real to me, princess.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, cursing. “i just—i told Gojo about the dream first and he wanted me to act it out but I knew I couldn’t actually get you to do it and so it was the second-best option! I’m sorry, sukuna!” your words jumble together as a lump forms in your throat, You didn’t even recognize how hard you were crying until it was physically becoming hard to breathe. “i’m—sorry!” You hiccup, arms covering your face in humiliation.

At the sound of your sobs, Sukuna turns around and realizes he might have let his amusement get out of hand, quickly shutting your phone and letting it drop on the couch. “w-why are you crying?” You don’t answer, if anything, it makes you sob harder and turn away from his strong gaze. Without hesitation, Ryo begins to rub your back, cooing in your ear, “it’s okay, just breathe”

You don’t believe it; this man just found out you’re a perverted freak, and he’s the one comforting you? You turn to look at him, tears still pooling in your eyes, “What? Why—aren’t you mad?”

Sukuna shrugs, “Should I be?”

“I—I mean, yeah? it’s justifiable…” You feel your stomach sink with every second of silence that passes.

“Why would I be mad?” You feel stumped. Is he trying to make you feel more humiliated? Is this a game? trying to get you to confess more and more to make you feel worse than you already do? “I mean, I guess I am a little. Why didn’t you wake me up anyway?”

His words make you freeze, confusion must be clear on your face because Sukuna continues, “not only did you not let me see it in person, but to not send the video either? That’s just cruel.” He’s smirking again, his signature, ‘up to no good’ look that makes you feel small back on his face. “I guess you’ll have to repay me, huh?”

You gulp, looking up at him. “repay you? how?" His smirk grows into a grin, so evil and menacing but so fucking attractive. “By giving me a live show, my little porn star~”

He instructed you to get dressed into the lingerie set previously shown in the photos you sent Hiromi. You’re not incredibly self-conscious, but as his eyes follow you when you walk into the living room, telling you to turn around and bend over to “give him a proper look," you feel a slight increase of nerves, hoping he enjoys your act of submission.

and he does. the way you nervously play with your fingers, breath hitching when you feel him creep behind you to look at how the lace of your panties cups your pussy. He’s been hard since he saw the video, but his need for you grows with every instruction you follow. so cute and compliant, wanting to do anything to make up for being so naughty. It makes him feel something he’s never felt before.

You’re gripping the back of the loveseat when you feel his fingers trace the slit of your pussy through the lace, pressing a little harder at where your hole is, chuckling when you push back against him. “Does that feel good?” You nod, trying not to speak to not embarrass yourself. He didn’t like that, making you yelp when he suddenly smacked your left ass cheek with a good amount of force, turning to look at him in shock. “Use your voice.”

“yes ryo…”

He hummed, peeling your panties to the side. You were so wet, Sukuna’s eyes were glued to the little strings of arousal that stuck to his fingers whenever he pulled them away, “What a nasty little pussy you have—oh look! She winked at me” You want to shove your head into a wall, feeling your body heat up at the way he talked. so shameless.

“Why don’t you go get me that vibrator, princess.” He gives you a kiss on your ass cheek, the same one he spanked, before pulling away. You obey, returning to the living room again, this time with the egg shaped toy. He makes you sit down, spreading your thighs as he teases you with it, dragging it up and down your slit to get it wet. Your hips gently rock against the sensation, getting choked up as he suddenly pushes it in and pulls your panties back into place.

He makes you kneel on the floor in front of him, already having downloaded and connected the device to his phone. Your eyes are still puffy, and you look up at him with such guilt. He can’t help but lean down to capture your lips, making out with you until you’re panting with your lips all swollen. When he pulls away, he decides to turn the vibration onto a low setting, enjoying the way your eyes become droopy and soft puffs of air leave your mouth. “You wanna suck my cock, pretty girl?”

You rub your thighs together, eyes finally looking down at the thick print he left in his sweats. You look up at him, nodding. "Yes, please” he leans back, getting comfortable, “then go ahead.”

You feel nervous as your hands begin to pull at the strings of his pants, tugging to pull them down. His boxers are tight, giving you an even better glance at just how big he truly was. Before your regular hookups started, you always fantasized about how big Sukuna was. Hearing girl after girl scream his name until their throats went sore and watching them limp out of the apartment the next day was kind of telling, but you were starting to think that you underestimated just how big he was.

With every ounce of courage you could muster, you began to peel his underwear off, your eyes widening when his long cock came out in all its glory. It was huge. not just in length, but in girth, and it was pretty. He kept himself clean, hair trimmed but not shaved, and his pretty tip oozed milky pre-cum, lightly dripping down his dick. “gon’ keep starin’ or what?”

Sukuna indulged in the look on your face as you stared at him, it gave him an ego boost when you tried to wrap your hand around his cock just to realize you couldn’t fully cover it. “t’s big right?” You didn’t answer, knowing he already knew what your response would be, and instead leaned forward to spit on it, your thumb moving to spread the liquid on his tip. He let out a breathy moan, cock twitching when you licked his vein hesitantly, “that’s it, good girl”

You attempted to take as much of him in your mouth as you could, ignoring the way your throat protested. Sukuna’s hands tangled in your hair, jaw loosening, while he watched the way you bobbed your head, looking up at him with teary eyes. spit seeped from your mouth, making it messy and noisy as the sound of your little gags filled the living room, “Oh, fuck yeah—take it all”

He began to fuck your mouth, pace picking up until he was roughly thrusting, eyes rolling back. You focused on ignoring your gag reflex until you suddenly felt a strong vibration in your cunt, immediately pulling away as you let out a cry. You had drool dripping down your chin, and your moans came out hoarse from his brutal thrusts, “Kuna'—too much!”

scoffing, he grabbed your head again, “keep going.”

you huffed, putting him back in your mouth when the vibrations increased again. you moaned around his cock, your head feeling empty as all you could do it suck on his tip haphazardly, pulling away to pant helplessly. you rested your head on his thigh, hand squeezing his length. “can’t do it, Ryo”

Your hips rut onto nothing, pathetically looking up at him as the toy brutally massaged your g-spot. You looked so angelic, messy with tears, spit, and precum all over you. Sukuna coo’d, hand reaching down to caress your cheek, “s’ too much?” You nodded, tongue lolling out as you began to feel the buildup of an orgasm, whining as your other hand gripped his. Your mind was going numb, sight getting splotchy.

Your hold on his hand tightened when your body began to squirm uncontrollably, a cry leaving your lips before your vision blacked out momentarily. You woke up feeling like you were in a puddle, Sukuna laughing as you looked down in confusion, “guess you weren’t lying, princess.”

You choked when you realized you had squirted on the floor, feeling embarrassed by just how easy he made overwhelming you. Before you could let the shame consume you, Ryomen was pulling you up and onto the couch. “Wanna try again?”

He tugged on the toy, playing with the different settings, until you became a babbling mess. He jerked his cock off lazily, getting off to the pleas of his name on repeat. his thumb reached down to play with your clit, your plush thighs immediately closing as your head shook back and forth, “n-no, hurts!” he pried your thighs open, spanking your cunt making you whine.

“Nuh uh, hold your legs open,” You struggle to follow his orders, shaky hands gripping your thighs to present yourself to him. He let a glob of spit fall out of his mouth and onto your already drenched pussy, spreading it with his fingers. He made you cum two times before he finally allowed himself to take out the tiny egg, throwing it carelessly across the room because now it was the least of his worries.

Leaning down, he kissed your swollen bud, a mewl escaping your lips when he brought it into his mouth and sucked. You swear he was making you see stars, Sukuna growled when he tasted your sweet nectar meet his awaiting tongue, hand reaching up to move your bra and pinch your nipple. The pleasure he gave you was immense, overstimulating not only your poor body but your mind. “s’kuna! wait—“

He shoved his fingers in your mouth, quieting your sobs as his cruel tongue played with your cunt. Everything he did was so vulgar, treating you like some whore, even letting little whispers of “my pretty slut” slip from his lips whenever you would buck into his mouth. “You wanna ride my face, pretty? that what you want?”

You shook your head, pulling away from his fingers, “Later—close l-like this!” Your words made him feel giddy, putting more emphasis into every movement of his tongue. later implied this would happen again and Sukuna was more than ecstatic to make this a tradition.

You let go of your thighs, your hands gripping his hair to push him closer. You were so close, practically tasting it. Two fingers slowly pushed into you, followed by another, scissoring you open and rubbing against that sensitive part of you that made your body heat up. You let out a wail, tugging on his hair harder when you felt yourself cum, basically riding his face until you went limp. The orgasm so strong you felt light-headed, ears ringing, barely noticing Sukuna pulling away to show off his wet grin.

He loved how fucked out you looked, barely conscious and twitching. Without thinking twice, he reached down and ripped the fabric that was semi-covering your chest. It took you a second to register what happened, looking down at how the lilac fabric was now in multiple pieces and frowned. “h-hiromi got me that..”

Sukuna nodded, rolling his eyes, “So?”

You couldn’t even argue with him, brain fuzzy and most of your short sentences came out slurred anyway. Sukuna took your silence as a win, leaning down to lick and suck at your tits, leaving hickies all over the surface. You hummed, mouth opening as you felt the tip of his cock tease your entrance, slowly pushing into you. Your shaky hand pushed against his stomach, “Ryo! t’s too big!”

but he just shook his head, moving to kiss you softly while his hand moved yours away to let him push in, lacing your fingers together by your head. It burned, the pain almost too much. However, Sukuna slowed his movement, letting his free hand go down to rub your clit. “It's okay, baby, jus’ lemme in..” He went back to kissing you, continuing to thrust into you until he bottomed out.

When he pulled away, he watched how your face contorted and your eyebrows furrowed together when you felt the double stimulation. When you began to babble, hips pushing into his, he started to thrust, picking up speed with every second. His hand still held yours, the moment feeling incredibly intimate.

He was losing his mind. Your tightness felt unlike the pocket pussy he used to fuck. No, this was completely different. He liked holding your hand, feeling you grip onto his with such need or maybe it was the way you gazed into his eyes like he was the only man on earth… Either way, there was a warm feeling in his stomach and a need to prove himself. His movements were smooth as he thrusted into your sore cunt, enjoying the squeals you let out when it got too much, ignoring how you begged him to slow down or you’d cum. He felt like he was on fire, sweat dripping from his brow. He wanted this all the time, seven days a week.

He wanted you.

“Oh, fuck—I'm gonna put a baby in you—you like that? want to make a little family?” He sounded arrogant, like he had already made the decision for you. and maybe it was because of how fucked out you were, but his words didn’t seem to bad..if anything, they made you squeeze him tighter and nod. “Yes! Please, Kuna! want it—so bad”

“oh yeah? gonna cream in this pretty pussy—fill you up nicely,” you agreed, legs locking around him. “Make you the prettiest mommy—oh fuck!” Skin on skin along with the soft ‘plap’ from your dripping cunt echoed in the room, so loud you would probably get noise complaints, but that didn’t matter.

All Sukuna could think about was breeding you, knowing that you would have to get rid of your little fuck buddies if he put a little spawn inside you. He could picture everything: the proposal, marriage, little children running around the house he’ll buy you two. And the best part: it’ll be free from Satoru.

He knew you were close when he felt your walls flutter, pleads getting higher before they got stuck in your throat as your eyes rolled back. He kept thrusting, working you through your orgasm before he finally released, pushing himself as deep as he could. He kissed you again, savoring the taste of your mouth and how, with every breath you let out, he sucked in.

He let you rest as he got up to clean. You would have offered to help if it wasn’t for your brain fog and limbs that felt like jelly. You can’t even remember how you got into your room—only the way he curled against you, placing delicate kisses all over your collarbone and neck, the sound of your giggles making his heart swell. He couldn’t help but watch you as you drifted off to sleep, hoping that in the morning you wouldn’t make an excuse for why this couldn’t go farther.

The thought made him anxious, preventing him from closing his eyes because, in truth, if this was the end, he wanted to prolong it. He took in every detail of your face, listening to the sound of your patterned breathing and the feeling of your soft skin in his hands. His eyes grew heavy eventually, closing before he had the chance to fight it.

You woke up sore the next morning, feeling a muscular arm wrapped tightly around you. You didn’t move, trying to plan out how to approach this situation. On one hand, the sex was amazing and you’ve wanted him for years. and on the other, this could easily be nothing and confessing that would be useless. You were beyond frustrated and had a slight migraine, but refused to disturb him by getting up and having to face the conversation prematurely.

So you waited.

Minutes passed like hours; the longer time went by, the more anxious you grew. This felt so different than your regular hookups—at least if things got complicated with one of them, you could just leave. but this was different. he’s different.

Sukuna slept quietly next to you, arm wrapped around you protectively. He shuffled slightly, signaling he was waking up. The realization made your heart beat faster, second guessing everything you'd prepared in your head until the sound of his raspy morning voice broke the silence, “Good morning…”

“Morning,” your reply was quick, your back still facing him. He hums in acknowledgment, body shifting closer to you to firmly mold against your back. he moves into the crock of your neck to inhale how sweet you smell before pressing soft kisses onto the skin, the feeling ticklish and would have been enjoyable if it wasn’t for your racing head. “sukuna?”

“mmhm?” He hums against your skin, sucking small markings onto the surface. You pull away to look at him, making sure to hold the blanket over your exposed chest, like it mattered. You had so much to say and yet didn’t know where to start.

at the feeling of you pushing away, his eyes open, curious as to why you created the distance (and mild irritation because he liked how you felt against him). The arm he had around you moved to hold up his head, eyebrows raising. he studies the look on your face, noticing the tenseness in your movements. “What’s on your mind, princess?”

You debated how to approach this, but you were truly stumped. You’ve had plenty of hookups, but this isn’t the same; you didn’t really care for them. “What did last night mean?”

He was silent for a moment before a smirk graced his lips, hand reaching out to brush a stand of hair away before making its way to delicately cup your chin. “So straightforward, huh?” He pulls you against him, arm wrapping around you to keep you flush against his chest. He watches you intently, looking for any reaction, “What do you want it to mean?”

You can’t deny it catches you off guard, your breath hitching in your throat before you shrug, “I don’t know... I guess if you just want it to be friendly—“

His jaw tightens for a moment before a scoff leaves his mouth. His hand travels to your hips, fingers gently tracing it before gripping the soft flesh, “You only see me as a friend?”

“no…”

Your response puts a sly grin on Ryo’s face. “Then why don’t we cut the bullshit,” He gets impossibly closer, lips brushing yours teasingly. “Because we both know we’re not friends…”

You can’t stop the stupid smile that takes over your face, “Does that mean that you’re my—“

He doesn’t let you finish that sentence, a possessive glint flickering in his eyes as he cuts you off. “I’m gonna stop you there, love…” pushing you to lay on your back while he leans down over you. he moves closer, his mouth hovering next to your ear, his warm breath fanning across your skin “…because I’m going to make it very clear who you belong to.”

a/n: and it’s done🙏 although this is the last in the series, i still have some drafts/asks that i may get to at some point but i wanted to give you guys some type of ending :) was gonna post this yesterday but didn’t like the original ending i had so i had to redo it. also, did y’all notice the jungkook easter egg👀

tags (ignore)

@smolbeanzzz @mwtsxri @call-memissbrightside @iluvjjkmennn @evieluka @celestep004 @ermatfhh @lenalondon985 @peregrine-nation @1dk-anym0r3 @noblogname-exe @theobsidianempress @silverserpentsofhogwarts @mr-mafias-wife @idkccdfnfz @thejujvtsupost @bbnbhm

[the-cimmerians]

It's 2024. I have been participating in fandom for 40 years. This is a ramble commemorating some history I've experienced along the way.

In 1984, I attended my first convention, and made a beeline for the one long row of covered tables in the Dealer's Room that was, according to the whispered lore of my friends, 'the one'. "um", I said, very suavely and coherently, except for how it was totally the opposite of those things, "I'm here for the... for the, uh. For-"

"Come around here," the man behind the table said with exhausted ennui, so I went around, and he lifted up the table skirt next to him and pointed to rows and rows of boxes underneath the line of tables. "It's all under here."

It was all under there. Along with about five older ladies with glasses, graying hair, cardigans. Flipping through slash zines and chatting in whispered voices like old friends (which of course they were). I noticed one of them had the good sense to be wearing kneepads. I was still too young and ablebodied to need kneepads when crawling on a carpeted floor, but I immediately found her preparedness skills to be both impressive and hot. "You're new," one of the ladies whispered to me--a bit warily, which made sense. "Are you sure you're in the right place?"

In the faint light (the kneepads lady had also come prepared with a flashlight, additional practicality hotness points for her) I grabbed a comb-bound book with a heavy line art piece on the cover, featuring a musclebound Captain Kirk getting righteously and enthusiastically plowed by a stern-yet-ebullient Spock. "This," I said, pointing helpfully at the cover, like I was trying to make myself understood in a language I had only the vaguest knowledge of. "I'm here for this."

Outside at the convention, most of the attendees were wearing large homemade circular pins that shrieked 'K/S is BS!!!'1. But underneath the table, we reveled in the forbidden.

***

In 1985, I fell very hard for Starsky & Hutch fandom. Which was simply referred to at the time as 'the other fandom', because there were only two. We were upstarts. Many fannish elders predicted that it was just a phase.

***

The 'circulating library' was a massive stack of barely-legible pages that smelled strongly of mimeograph ink. When you were on the list, you would write stories while you waited for your turn, and when the big box was mailed to you, you would read everything (new finds, old favorites), add your own sloppily-typed or hastily-mimeographed stories, and then mail the whole thing to the next person. For me, at the time, it was an extremely expensive indulgence--but my favorite one.

***

By 1990, slash fandom had grown enough that I no longer knew everyone in it, which was both thrilling and a bit daunting. A young woman at a convention waited for me after a panel I was part of (I think it was 'writing impactful smut' or something like that), and said she had a question she didn't want to ask in a group setting. I'd heard that before. I said that's fine, go ahead and ask; and she came out with: "Why do you have to be gay?"

I blinked. "Is... that a problem?"

She looked annoyed. "Yes, because your stories are on all the recommendation lists and in all the top zines, but if you're gay and I read something you wrote and I get hot from it that makes me gay, and I'm not gay."

"Wow." I grinned, I couldn't help it. It probably made me look very predatory-dyke-about-to-score-a-toaster. Whatever, it was enough to make her back away from me fast.

When I thought about it later that night, I wondered what it would be like not to be the only queer person in slash fandom.

***

By 1997, slash started appearing on the internet. Many fannish elders claimed it was the death knell of slash fandom, or dismissed it as 'just a phase'.

***

Anyway, I wrote all this for myself as a commemoration of sorts, but if you took the time to read it--thank you. Love you, fandom. I always will.

1 In those days, m/m fandom was known as 'slash', which grew from the fannish shorthand where 'K&S' meant a story of Kirk and Spock having adventures or tribulations or what have you, and 'K/S' meant a story of Kirk and Spock getting it on (Kirk divided by Spock or Spock into Kirk--it was mathy fannish humor and I was into it then and I still am now). Slash was decidedly unpopular in the fannish world in 1984, and there was a concerted effort to force slash authors, artists, and fans out of 'mainstream' fannish public life. Hence, under the table.

[rindreamery]

to be loved is to be seen.

the little things that the blue lock men do for you as their way of saying, "i love you." featuring: itoshi rin, itoshi sae, michael kaiser, oliver aiku 𝜗𝜚 content: fluff

note. spreading down bad bllk men agenda 🫦 finals is this week, so that means i will not be able to write at all for 3-4 days, so i just wanted to pop this out rlly quickly (event fics will be written as soon as i wrap up this sem, PROMISE)

itoshi rin picks out the things you don't like in your food.

not that he’d ever admit it out loud, but rin has a folder in his notes app about you— things you like, things you dislike, and every little thing you’ve mentioned to him in passing. he wants to know every little detail about you, to write it down and memorize it until the knowledge becomes stuck in the back of his head. to the point that it becomes like common sense to him (if there were ever a pop quiz on facts about you, he would pass with flying colors.) at the end of every date, or every time he hangs out with you, he’ll update his notes with another little thing he’d learned. you will never catch him admitting it out loud, but it definitely shows in how he treats you.

there is one thing he’d memorized about you, by now, though. it’s written in bold, italicized, and underlined in his notes: you hate mushrooms. 

rin catches himself looking at the ingredients of certain meals whenever the two of you would eat at a new restaurant, or order food from an unfamiliar place. it’s not that he’s necessarily a picky eater because, frankly, he really doesn’t care. but he wants you to enjoy it, he wants you to be able to eat without stressing about having to pick it out. his eyes are always scanning through the print, actively checking if mushrooms are one of the ingredients listed. 

but, there are times when the ingredients aren’t listed, and there are times when you end up ordering something with mushrooms in it. 

he may be dense in certain aspects, but it’s hard for him to miss the disappointed look on your face. the way your expression falls ever so slightly, and your smile falters for half a second. before you could dig in, before you could even put yourself through five minutes of digging through the food— he’s swiftly grabbing it from you. 

truthfully, he does it without thinking. he’s acting on his thoughts before he could even process what he’s doing. rin tries to fight the blush that threatens to form on his cheeks, the way the heat crawls up his neck and to his face at the realization of what he’d done, and he fails. but he’s committed to the act now, and he’s not going to give it back to you until he’s done what he needed to do.

he tries to ignore the somewhat perplexed look on your face, and the way you watch him closely as his fingers make quick work of moving the mushrooms from your plate to his. (he tries to sneak in some of your favorite food from his plate to yours, but he’s not slick, and you definitely notice.)

“here,” he says, pushing the plate closer to you after a few minutes. “you can eat it now.”

he sees you glance at the plate, and then back up at him— he looks away as you beam at him with a grateful smile, trying to ignore his ever-increasing heart rate. 

itoshi sae remembers the small details about your routine.

it is almost guaranteed that sae will wake up before you do. his alarm is set to go off at the crack of dawn, right as the sun starts to peek through the horizon, and he's starting his day while you're still in deep sleep. there’s a set routine that he follows, to a tee: wake up (and then contemplate staying in bed, just to cuddle with you a little longer), stretch, do morning yoga, and then go on a jog. it’s something he’d been doing for years, and he has never gone out of his way to add anything new to his routine— that is, until one morning. 

at first, it started with a random thought. as he was getting ready to leave the house, to go for his morning jog, he had unsystematically decided to set out your favorite mug and go-to morning snack. 

sae didn’t think it would be that significant to you, and he, initially, had no plans of doing it again. he simply had extra time to spare, and he knew that making your morning drink was always the first part to your routine, so he decided to get the first step out of the way for you.

truly, he wasn’t planning to make a habit out of this. but then, you told him, “that was a sweet way to start off my morning,” with that sleepy, morning smile of yours. he tries to not pay attention to the way his heart softens at the sight, and the realization that that had made him happy. yet now, he does it every time.

from then on, his alarm was always set to go off two minutes earlier. it’s rewarding, in his opinion, to come home to you— sitting at the dining table, messy hair and still in your pajamas, eyes half-lidded from sleep, with a smile on your face as you take a sip from the mug. and then you greet him with a thank you and a kiss, without fail, even when he tries to lightly guide you away because he’s sweaty.

it never works, because he folds the second you tell him, “g’morning. i missed you.” and he finds himself adding another part to his schedule. 

before sae’s even aware of it, much of his daily habits had been molded to fit with yours. 

on days where he’s far from home, in another country, he finds that his morning just never feels right without you. it feels weird not having to set out your favorite mug, and it feels even weirder not having you there to smother him in kisses. his routine had always determined his mood, and without you, he’s extra sour. 

“i miss you,” he ends up texting you. (that, too, becomes part of his routine when he’s far from you.)

michael kaiser has all your subtle behaviors memorized.

if kaiser were to be asked to name one annoying habit of yours, it would be the fact that you, sometimes, say things that contradict how you truly feel. he calls you pesky, he tells you that he’ll take your word for it and not read too deeply into whatever you’re saying— but, in a way, he’s contradicting himself too by saying that. he’ll always read into it; he’ll always analyze you, gaze narrowed, and watching for every subtle sign in your body language. he knows you, all too well. 

but there’s one thing you always say, one contradictory statement that you always make, that he’d memorized at this point. “it’s okay, i’m not cold,” even when you visibly are.

it irks him to no end. he doesn’t understand why you would say that even when there are goosebumps scattered all over your skin, when you have your arms wrapped around yourself, and you’re visibly trembling. he can practically see the bones under your skin, rattling, making some comical, cartoony noise in his head. you know that he can see you, and yet, you still lie to him.

and, at times, he does this on purpose— he puts the air conditioning in the car on full blast, all vents pointed at you, just to see how far you’re willing to go. and every time, it’s always the same, with the same answer.

kaiser isn’t completely cruel, however. he’s tucked one of his spare hoodies (your favorite, actually) into the backseat, existing purely for your use. first, he’ll scoff at you, roll his eyes, and let you suffer for a few more minutes. but eventually, the guilt will catch up to him, and he’ll constantly be glancing at you through his periphery, shaking and looking absolutely miserable in your seat.

he’ll think to himself for a second, as if contemplating whether he’ll actually help you out (he always does, he does not want you to actually suffer). and then, he’ll internally sigh, before speaking up. “stupid,” he mutters under his breath. “i have a spare hoodie in the back, take it.”

it’s almost laughable, the way you quickly turn your body around to reach for the backseat, visibly seeking warmth. he sees the look of pure joy in your eyes when you realize that it’s your favorite, and he smiles to himself.

“you’re the best,” you always tell him, as you pull the fabric over your head, and he's content. 

he doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t reprimand you— he lets you do this, every single time.

oliver aiku is always willing to listen to you ramble.

it doesn’t matter if aiku’s had an exceptionally long day, it doesn’t matter if he feels as if he’s on the verge of succumbing to sleep— he will always make time for you. he will never pass up a chance to call you, to listen to you talk about whatever you want, whenever you want. you could talk for hours, going on and on about something that he doesn’t quite understand, and not a single complaint will slip past his lips. then again, he thinks to himself, why would he complain? hearing your voice is the best part of any day, good or bad. and every night, he finds himself waiting by his phone, waiting for your contact to appear on his screen.

he finds no shame at the speed in which he accepts your call, which is immediately, nor does he try to mask the anticipation in his voice.

and if he were to look into a mirror at that exact moment, he would also see the lovesick smile that had started to tug on the corners of his lips. you can’t see him, but he’s sure you can hear it in his voice. the way it softens, the way it loses its rough edges and lightens up ever so slightly, when he greets you. you probably know he’s grinning from ear-to-ear. (he doesn’t think he is, but when it comes to you, he’s completely transparent.)

it doesn’t take long before you’re divulging into another one of your endless tangents. but aiku’s attention remains undivided, only for you. he sits on the other side of the phone, silently, only responding when you want him to. it doesn’t matter if his own thoughts are clouded with exhaustion, his mind racing with the weight of the day—when you call, everything else fades into nothingness.

“did you know that venus is an evening star for 263 days out of the year?” he can hear the excitement in your voice, he can practically see the sparkle in your eyes, even without seeing you. it’s been three hours, and he’s sure that he should’ve been in bed one hour ago. but you’re still as energetic as ever, so he fights the way his body craves for sleep. he locks his jaw, and bites back a yawn, and listens. “and then, the fact that it disappears from the sky for 50 days, before returning as a morning star?”

there’s silence on your end, and aiku takes that as his cue to talk. “no,” he responds, and there’s an amused lilt in his tone. “i didn’t, actually. you should tell me more.” and you do. 

one look at the clock to his side tells him that, at this point, he won’t be getting enough sleep. he’s sure he’s going to be exhausted when he wakes up in the morning— though, he doesn’t really care, and he’s sure he won’t regret it. he’ll let you ramble about the stars for as long as you want, even when the stars themselves start to fade into the morning sky. 

© rindreamery, 2024

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞.

Synopsis: What I think Alastors wife would be like, if he had one of course.

Warnings: mentions of blood, pinning, harassment?, Alastor being himself, not in a specific time period but at some point shifts to hell? Let me know if anyone is interested in a part two!!

Navigation!! // Masterlist!! // Serendipity Writes (event)

Alastors wife probably didnt like him at first, and that’s a guarantee. He likes a challenge, but Alastor also likes being liked by people. It fills his ego, makes him feel good about himself. He likes to watch people stumble and fall but quite literally cracks under the pressure of doing just that when it comes to winning you over. Chances were he was constantly trying to figure you out, for two reasons. One, being that he didn’t understand how you couldn’t like him. I mean come on, look at him! He’s got the charm, the manners, the style and the class, the status. What more could you want? The second reason being, the more you denied him, the more he took it as a challenge, the more he wanted you.

Well, surprise surprise, you dont like people with an image to keep up; and to his dismay, that’s exactly what he does. He projects an image. One he refuses to change, and even after marrying you, still doesn’t drop the image, but starts to become more real and honest with himself.

“People who project an image of themselves to others are just trying to fool themselves into being someone they aren’t.” Was what you told him.

Alastor had also asked you out multiple times before you finally said yes. Everyone knows Alastor is very picky with the people he chooses to surround himself with. Everyone he associates with is either there to serve him, or to provide him with something, even if they’re unaware of it. Which only made you trust him less. What purpose did you serve him? What if one day he found you no longer useful and tossed you to the side? Well what were you to do then?

Denying him proved to be a challenge in itself, seeing that he’s quite literally everywhere all at once.

He’d try cheap tricks first. Buying you gifts, constantly showing up at your doorstep with a bouquet of flowers or a stuffed animal. One time he even got you a whole gift basket of your favorite treats. How sweet~ if it was actually about you and not him just trying to patch up his ego. Well at least that was what you thought on the matter.

If that didnt work he’d resort to going ghost. After all, people only miss you when you’re gone right? Well not in this case. He had left you alone physically, at least to your knowledge, but he had still kept a close watch on you. Why, he just knew it would bother you that he suddenly stopped! Until he overheard you speaking with a friend about how happy you were to finally get some peace and quiet. Well that simply wouldn’t do. After all, you should always make an impact, and what kind of impact would he be leaving on you if you went back to your old boring life? No no that just wont do dear.

He’ll start showing back up at your doorstep, taking you on surprise outing to force you to spend time with him. He’ll take you on a walk around a nearby park, a restaurant one day, the picture show the next. He has a long list of places to take you, so you’ll never go to the same place twice! Get your dancing shoes because he’s gonna take you out to the town for the night, after all the city never sleeps! This is when he becomes less forceful, but more of a decent calm. He begins to listen more when you speak, and you actually begin to care about what he’s saying, what a shock!

It’s almost like a switch flips after your outings. He’ll take you to an orchestra show, snickering to himself when he sees your eyes begin to water as the show closes out. He’ll force you to hold onto his arm as he walks you across the street on a rainy night, making sure you don’t slip or trip on the wet pavement. If you ever do, he’ll try his best to catch you and if he doesn’t? Oh what a nightmare, it seems he’s fallen too! For you that is~

You two begin to feel closer, not only physically but emotionally. He gets you to open up about your personal struggles, and in turn, he’ll share some of his own, but not too much. He doesn’t allow himself to be fully and completely vulnerable with you, not yet. But he does try his best to sympathize with you when you share your piece of mind with him. He feels accomplished to know this part of you, and his ego is the last thing on his mind anymore, but instead you take up all the space.

He doesn’t use pet names for you, not cute ones anyway. He’ll call you his devilish belladonna, especially if you love flowers. His creepy spider Lillie. He’ll often speak in the ‘language of flowers’, and will educate you on it if you don’t know so you know exactly what he’s talking about.

He’s the type of person to correct people in public to make them feel stupid, but he never does that with you. Instead he’ll wait until it’s just the two of you and tell you jokingly how wrong you were. You’ll get upset because he let you look like a fool, but in his mind he’s just protecting your feelings. If anyone else corrects you, they’ll have their mouth sewn shut that’s for sure!

He never gets you the same bouquet of flowers. They’re always different, and every week or so you have a new one. He keeps a separate batch for himself so he knows when to get you another. That being said he also makes the bouquets himself, he does not buy them for you already made.

When you finally take Alastor up on his offer to court you properly, he is over the moon about it! Finally, you seem to be coming to your senses dear! Though you quickly follow that comment up with a “Let the blood rush to your head first.” He just bats his lashes at you with a smile. You always know how to make him feel so loved!

Gets very jealous very easily. If he sees you laughing with someone that isn’t him, he’ll size them up before deciding if they’re a threat or not. Heaven forbid anyone actually put their hands on you and uh oh! Limb of the floor someone come get it!

His possessive nature is rooted in abandonment, and thus being said, he has deep attachment issues to you. You are never out of his sight when you two begin dating, and you’re hardly ever far from him in general. You two dress similarly too, especially if you’re from the same era. He’ll switch up your wardrobe slowly so it complements his.

He isn’t one for strong PDA unless he feels like he needs too or just has a strong want too. Usually it’s an arm around your waist, or you hanging onto his arm loosely. The most he’ll ever really do is a kiss on the back of your hand or to your temple. That being said, he’s like this for various reasons.

One, he has a lot of enemies, which means that not not only does that put you in danger, but if you’re also a powerful overlord, it puts him at risk too, though he doesn’t care much about that part.

Second, he doesn’t like physical contact much, and though he always makes an exception for you, he has his image and pristine reputation to keep up. Which you extremely dislike but tolerate because it’s Alastor and if he hasn’t changed much in centuries, nothings going to change ever.

Alastor is very very fond of you, whether you believe it or not. Your fiery attitude has him whipped more than he likes to admit. He’ll joke with other sinners that he’d sacrifice you to save himself but you both know that isn’t true, his nervous ticks prove it to be false, if you do say so yourself.

He’s very fidgety. He’ll tug a piece of your clothing or twirl a strand of your hair between his claws. If you claim he’s messing up your hair he’ll cast a tornado of shadows around you to fuck it up even more, and then smiling at you lovingly when you threaten to cut his ears off because you can’t tell if they’re his hair or just furry ass ears. You always give him a good laugh.

Other sinners are actually convinced you both hate each other, but turf wars on the news show that you two are the most in love when you’re wreaking havoc on innocent sinners for no possible reason other than the fact you two had an argument and the best way to settle it? Dancing in the rain, which actually isn’t rain, just blood falling from the sky because you like to kill people for fun.

“My darling looks the best in red if I do say so myself! Especially if she’s dressed by another’s remains, oh the beauty!”

Alastor has and will continue to get in his feelings about you and his mother getting along so well. He loves you both to pieces, so seeing his two favorite people together makes his dead heart swell with joy.

He’ll ask you to accompany him to the tailors, he values your opinion more than others so you often make adjustments to his suit and he’s just like ‘Whatever she says that’s what’s going on the suit.’ You also make him your personal dressing doll, trying different patterns and styles on him for fun. Alastor is a true skinny jeans hater and he will die on that hill, again. He really appreciates the 60’s style, but prefers to stick to his own decade.

He will take you out hunting with him, and the two of you share breakfast together with the fresh meat you’ve caught. He only gets the best quality for you because he refuses to have you two ‘eating like chums’. A restaurant tried to lie to the two of you, saying their meat was high quality and fresh. Alastor killed everyone in it and you two shared remains like a true power couple. Hells finest of course. ;)

He’s very critical of picking out jewelry for you. Hunting for the perfect ring for you took him ages, mainly because he knew exactly what he wanted but no jeweler had what he wanted all in one ring. So instead he forces them to make him a custom one. Torn limbs and bloody parts later, you have the ring that Alastor worked so hard to give you. He proposes to you Extermination day, claiming he’d love to spend another year in hell with you before the angels come to rip you two apart from each other. It was such a sweet day, at least to you it was.

The type of relationship where he plays the piano and you sing. He loves when you sing and will gush about you to anyone in sight even if he doesn’t know them.

Is very needy in private. He’s a stage 10000 clinger, and will stick to you like his life depends on it, but will be damned if anyone catches him. You don’t tell anyone about it, you like the private life.

You two have cook offs all the time. You make the hotel staff judge, and ultimately Niffty is the tie breaker because she’s brutally honest. Once she told Alastor he should stay out of the kitchen because women were better at it for a reason… harsh!

He was fine though, he got her back by ridding the hotel of bugs. He knows she likes chasing them around and for that she sobbed at his feet for ten minutes asking him to bring them back. It didn’t take much actually, Sir Pentious brought them back on his own, much to Charlies dismay.

He loves to read with you. You two often read a book and once you both finish you have a tea session over it. It starts off being about the book and then somehow shifts to just gossiping and talking shit about the other overlords, except for Rosie, we love Rosie in this household.

Speaking of, Rosie is usually where you get your clothes from. She’s a sweetheart when she isn’t picking pieces of muscle from her teeth, that sharp smile is a killer! She loves to talk about Alastor with you, and usually she’s where you go after you two have had an argument. You’re also her personal Barbie doll. She puts you in outfits and she and Alastor judge over them. Nine times out of ten you leave her boutique with a new wardrobe every time.

Now let’s talk about Vox.

Honestly the whole reason Vox knows about you is probably because he was digging through Alastors shit. But when he sees you? Oh lord, this man is HOOKED.

He doesn’t even know how Alastor managed to get you entangled with him. He finds out about you when you and Alastor aren’t dating yet, and he basically jumps at his chance to try to be with you.

Vox will forever consider you the one that got away, you can’t change my mind.

Alastor has proven time and time again that he’s basically better than Vox. He took a seven year back, came on the radio one day and boom all his viewers were back. In Alastors mind there’s no competition, just Vox being obsessed with the fact Alastor said no.

Valentino uses it against Vox all the time, and it will always make Vox buffer.

[pathologicalreid]

what to expect | s.r.

in which you find yourself frustrated at the end of your pregnancy, and spencer talks you off a ledge

margotober

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff (hurt/comfort) content warnings: pregnancy, lamaze classes, self-consciousness, boy dad spencer, spencer is perfect, birth talks, breastmilk mentioned, crying word count: 1.68k a/n: i'm writing all of these a/n's at the same time and i'm running out of interesting things to say to you. this was a request! i hope you enjoy!

“Now,” the instructor continued her presentation, “Our recommendation is the five-five-five rule.” The yardstick that she was using to emphasize the slides smacked against the projector screen, “That’s five days in bed, five days on the bed, and five days near the bed.”

Leaning back, you rested your back on Spencer’s chest and whispered, “If you try to keep me in bed for five days, we’ll have to start marriage counseling.”

Your husband hummed in response, “Why don’t we just see how you’re feeling after he’s here?”

Holding back a groan at his diplomatic answer, you turned your head back to the screen, anxiety already at an all-time high after watching video footage of a live birth. At a friend’s recommendation, you had signed yourself and Spencer up for Lamaze lessons, but you hadn’t anticipated how in-depth they would go.

It didn’t help that Spencer had been on a case when you were supposed to start, pushing back your start time. Now you were finishing your last lesson on the same day your OB had given you the ‘any day now’ speech. “Are you alright?” Spencer asked, noticing the way you didn’t respond to his suggestion.

Your head bobbed in confirmation, “Yeah, just tired.” The lights were dimmed in the classroom, between that and the warmth of Spencer behind you, you were ready to fall asleep.

Your sweet husband was beginning to toe the line of being overbearing, “Do you want me to take the rest of the day off?”

“No,” you answered. He had taken an extended lunch to be able to go to this lesson with you, there was only a week until his paternity leave officially started, and it wasn’t necessary for him to stay with you for the rest of the day.

Besides, having him around all day was only going to make your prenatal anxiety worse.

He was already the perfect father, his eidetic memory contributing to all of the facts that he listed about newborns and birth. He knew more about the changes happening to your body, and the worst part was that everyone knew it.

Cringing as the lights went up, you leaned back on your hands as Spencer stood up, packing up your bag before crouching down to help you up. Looking around the room, you watched all of the other couples in your class smiling and laughing with each other, the moms moving around the room with an ease that you no longer possessed.

You took a deep breath, placing one hand on your side in an attempt to brace yourself, “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Spencer asked again, watching you zone out in the middle of the Lamaze studio.

“Mhmm,” you reassured him, “Braxton Hicks,” you added, trying to wave off some of his concern.

Nodding in understanding, Spencer gently placed a hand on the small of your back before the two of you started to make your way out of the room, stopping to grab the gift bag your instructor had put together for you. His hand dropped to hold yours before walking down the steps, leaving the two of you at the entrance to the parking garage, “Hey,” he nudged, trying to lift your spirits, “No more classes.”

Admittedly, the Lamaze lessons weren’t your favorite couple activity, and Spencer knew that the only reason you kept going was that they were non-refundable. “Right,” you agreed, knowing that now you’d have to face the next hurdle—actually giving birth.

“Okay,” Spencer said, gently herding you over to a park bench. He set the bags down on the seat before you sat down, leaving him squatting in front of you. “What’s wrong, honey? I know something’s wrong,” he insisted, knowing you well enough to be able to tell when you were burying your feelings.

You leaned back onto the bench, “I’m pregnant,” you shrugged as if that was answer enough.

Spencer frowned up at you, “Yes, this much I am aware of,” he confirmed, eyes flickering down to your bump before going back to your face.

“I just…” you struggled to find the right words, “I’m pregnant, and you’re doing all of this research into pregnancy and labor and birth, and I’ve done none of it. None of the research or the work and I’m— I feel useless!”

His expression softened at the sight of tears welling in your eyes, “You’re not useless. You’re so far from useless that it’s not even on the list of adjectives I would consider while describing you.” He rested his hands on you, one on top of your knee to maintain his balance and another on the side of the bump, skimming his thumb over the cotton of your t-shirt. “You’ve been growing our baby, and he’s beautiful and healthy and he’s going to love you regardless of how much research you’ve done about him.”

Huffing, you wipe at your teary eyes, “It’s so embarrassing though! Going to the BAU today and hearing everyone talk about how prepared you are, the stacks of books on your desk and on your nightstand and on the coffee table.” You paused to take a deep breath, “In those stupid classes where you knew so many of the answers that the instructor stopped calling on you to give everyone else a chance.”

“Sweetheart,” Spencer murmured, “I like being prepared. Especially for big changes like this.”

You nodded, resting your hand on top of his, “And I love that about you, but I have never felt so unprepared for anything in my life,” you confessed, struggling to catch your breath.

It wasn’t like Spencer didn’t understand your frustrations, he just wished you had voiced some of these concerns sooner, “You don’t need to prepare like I do, though. Your maternal instinct? It’s inherent. It’ll immutably move you to sense and take care of the baby, okay? With dads it’s different. I don’t have any sort of physical connection with him like you do, I won’t develop a similar instinct until I actually spend time with him. So, technically, you’re ahead of me,” he explained, using all of his research to soothe you out of your panic.

“I just want him to love me as I love him,” you pouted, looking down at the bump, “but I ache all over, Spence. My boobs hurt. They’re not even tender anymore, they just hurt,” you complained.

Spencer chuckled lightly at your breast comment, “He will love you as you love him; I guarantee it. Your boobs hurt because they’re producing colostrum, and we can call your doctor later to see if it’s alright to pump. That’ll help relieve the pressure.”

Some of the tension in your body released, and you sniffled timidly, “I think those classes are designed to freak people out of ever having another baby. Oh my god,” your eyes go wide as you recall the live birth video, “You can’t watch.”

“Watch what, honey?” Spencer asked.

You looked at him with abject horror in your eyes, “The baby. You can’t watch me give birth. Is that why the dads always used to wait in another room? Should I be having you wait in another room while I’m in labor?”

He shook his head, “I’d like to be in the room with you, but if you’d be more comfortable having me somewhere else, then we can figure that out. However, we just went through twelve hours of birthing classes together, so if you’d rather I just refrain from actually watching you push the baby out, then I will promise to abide by your rules.”

Horror stories that you had heard from other moms about how their husbands wouldn’t touch them after birth filled your mind, and that type of rejection horrified you. With wide eyes, you looked at your husband and whispered, “I can’t do this.”

Spencer watched helplessly as tears filled your eyes once again, “Can’t do what?”

“Have a baby,” you answered, your voice tight with emotion, “What was I thinking? I never should’ve done this, oh no.” You continued muttering to yourself, sending your head into a tailspin as Spencer desperately tried to get you to come back down to earth.

“Hey,” Spencer crooned, “Y/N, hey,” he tried to get you to snap out of it. “Hey, we made this decision together, remember? Why didn’t you tell me you hated being pregnant?”

Your eyes snapped to his, “I don’t hate being pregnant. I’m just over it!”

Pushing your bags off to the side, Spencer sat down next to you on the bench, “You want him here, huh?”

Nodding melodramatically, you cover your eyes with your hands, “I just wish he could be in my arms instead of in my belly, and now that I’ve been told he could come any day it’s so much worse.”

“Thirty-seven weeks is any day now territory,” Spencer acknowledged, “but not today, I’m afraid.”

Dragging your hands down your face as you met his eyes, knowing that today was, in fact, not the day. “I miss hugs,” you told him mournfully, wiping at the fresh tears in your eyes.

Spencer casually put his arm around your shoulders, leaning over to press a soft kiss to your temple, “I hug you all the time,” he reminded you.

“It’s not the same with the bump,” you admitted, there was always an awkward lean involved, and you could never get close enough to him.

He raised his eyebrows at you curiously, “So, if I promise to give you a hug after the baby’s born, will you stop crying?”

Leaning your head back and using his arm as a headrest, your head bobbed slightly, “Yeah, I think that could fix me.”

“Honey,” he started, “I promise to give you the coziest, most rejuvenating hug of your entire life after the baby comes. I will hug you like you’ve never been hugged before.”

Turning to face him, a timid smile grew on your face, “Well, now you’re kind of laying it on thick, don’t you think?”

He sighed desperately, “I just really want you to stop crying.”

[lightseoul]

16 please 👀

Congrats btw for your 2K milestone!! 🎉 WAHOO

number 16, coming right up! thank you for playing and for the congratulations, lovely <3 i hope this one makes you laugh!

(this is lightseoul's 2k milestone event ft. bakugou katsuki! to play, view the numbered list of prompts here, then simply send an ask with your chosen number and i'll whip something up!)

16. "I WANT TO GO HOME TO MY WIFE." (0.7k)

it’s probably by the tenth sigh of the night—not that anyone’s counting—that poor kaminari finally snaps.

“seriously, dude?”

bakugou, who’s seated across from him with kirishima and sero adjacent to the both of them, only lazily raises an eyebrow in question.

at that, the electric hero pouts. “at least try to pretend you’re having fun.”

a few feet ahead of them—the men collectively chose to be seated at the back of the small dive bar despite kaminari’s protests—the stand-up comedian currently doing a set cracks another joke. an undercurrent of laughter flows across the room, but none of the four contribute to that.

“sorry, denki,” sero starts, a not-so-apologetic expression plastered on his face. “i’m with bakugou on this one.”

the slim, ebony-haired man glances at the stage, “the jokes aren’t landing for me either.”

“aww, come on, you guys!” kirishima, the ever-unfailing saint that he is, pipes up with a borderline overcompensating grin. “let’s just stay for a while longer for denki, alright?”

sero shrugs in response, but turns in his seat toward the stage anyway. bakugou, on the other hand, only grumbles before reaching for his phone in his right pocket.

thumbing his password under the table, his fingers click on the messages app, then to his number one favorite contact.

for a second, he debates whether or not to shoot you a text. you were so excited to finally get started on that anime you’ve been meaning to watch, that you almost seemed like you didn’t care that he was leaving you home for the night to hang out with the guys.

biting on his lip, he absentmindedly goes through your last exchange before finally deciding fuck it.

while typing out a well-crafted message, his eyes dart between his screen to his friends then back down again, trying to seem inconspicuous.

the last thing he needs is for the bored tape hero to tease him with that annoying ass shit-eating grin of his.

reading through it one last time, bakugou finally presses the send button.

much to his delight, it doesn’t even take you a minute to reply.

(8:43 PM) baby 🧡: heey! i’m still watching—am on episode 5 now. hbu? aren’t you busy with the boys?

the smile he wasn’t aware he’s been sporting immediately drops when he’s reminded of the predicament he’s in. peering back up at the front, he has to fight the groan that threatens to bubble from his mouth when another performer goes up.

oh, well. at least you’re texting him right now.

he quickly types out his response.

(8:45 PM) me: Busy being fucking tortured. This is the worst night ever.

“yo, bro, who got you smiling like that?”

bakugou whips to glare at the culprit, who’s now wearing the very same shit-eating grin he’s just been thinking about avoiding a few moments ago.

pocketing his phone, bakugou snarls at the man. “shut the fuck up. all that doom-scrolling is rotting your fucking brain.”

“i think you getting the reference says something about you, too, bakubro,” kirishima offers from beside him.

bakugou shoots the redhead a menacing scowl, which the unbreakable hero accepts in stride.

“are you guys even listening?” comes kaminari’s whine.

“sorry, denks,” sero replies, before turning to regard the rest of the group. “i thought we agreed to stop doing these guys’ night outs? none of us are as good at planning get-togethers as mina.”

at that slightest bit of opening, bakugou takes the opportunity and moves to stand up, grabbing his wallet and car keys before inserting them in his back pocket, surprising the three men.

before any of them can say a single word, though, bakugou tries to shrug nonchalantly, muttering his simple explanation.

“what was that?” came sero’s teasing tone.

“i want to go home to my wife, idiot,” bakugou barks before he can stop himself.

at that, kaminari finally throws his hands up in defeat.

kirishima only shrugs himself, “that clicks.”

while the menace snickers. “simp.”

[hallowxiu]

How the Brothers Would Deal with MC's Mortality

Mammon:

You casually brought it up as a joke

Probably something like “i’m here for a good time, not a long time” or “why should i care what happens in 100 years? It’s not like i’ll be around to care”

Would probably confuse Mammon at first as to why you wouldn’t be around, but he would put the pieces together in the middle of the night when trying to sleep.

A whole, eyes snapping wide opening and flinging out of his bed kind of moment.

Mammon would worry himself sick

Yes, he knows humans can die, hell, he used to mock you for being so frail when you first came to the Devildom, but now? 

Well, now things are different. How he feels about you is different

He's spending all his money on ways to keep you kicking longer. 

Anything he can think of that’ll help, he’s buying it. Vegetables, fruits, protein powder, comfortable clothes, a nice pillow, vitamins, shampoos- anything. He has no idea where to start, so he just starts grabbing everything. 

I mean, something will have to help, right? 

If you notice he looks panicked, don’t point it out, it’ll only make it worse. Unless you want to be smothered to death from his affection and worry, then by all means. ;)

Leviathan:

Look, he can barely handle his favorite anime characters dying, so you? Yeah, no, that’s way too much. 

Nothing actually popped up to remind Leviathan of your mortality, it was because of Satan throwing his books all around the house that did it. 

Suddenly, it was all he could think about. How did he not think of this before? 

Leviathan is no Satan though, and he’s certainly not Lucifer. Researching medical documents and trying to think of things to keep you alive longer are a little over his head. That being said, there were some things he could do.

Leviathan dove into his own research that would be within his realm of understanding, studying that humans who have more positive mindsets and who are less exposed to depressing forms of media, may live longer than the average person. This- this was something he could work with. 

Suddenly, you were constantly being invited to his room, Leviathan having a variety of slice-of-life anime for you to watch with him, all of which had happy endings to boot. If an anime was even remotely depressing, he made sure to keep that out of reach. 

Video games? He’s keeping it safe; he’s not risking anything here. If it’s not similar to Stardew Valley, Animal Crossing, Dreamlight Valley, or The Sims (which must be on a good day), you’re just not playing it. Kingdom Hearts if you’re lucky. 

Satan:

Would do an insane amount of research 

Likely overheard the topic on a news segment about the tragically short lifespans of humans before it all clicked together.

Satan, unlike the other brothers, has never experienced death before, so while it sounds silly, he never had reason to think of you dying.

Looks up humans who had long lifespans to see how he can implement those things into your lifestyle.

Books will be littered everywhere (although that’s not really unusual, but what is would be the topic of said books- The Long Lives of Humans, Human Lifestyle for Dummies 101, The Road to Human Immortality, etc. etc.)

This is when Satan learns just how easy it is for a human to kick the bucket.

Heart attacks, brain aneurysms, strokes, seizures, cancer, the list goes on and on and it’s starting to scare him. He didn’t know humans could just drop dead. 

He’s going to start researching curses to increase your lifespan, or at the very least he’s going to make sure you’re careful as hell. 

You won’t even get as much as a cut without him being aware of it; he’s going to hover around and mother hen the absolute shit out of you. 

Try not to get too annoyed with him though, it all stems from good intentions. 

Asmodeus:

He’ll be damned if his shopping partner for life is going to die on him.

Asmo isn’t stupid; if anything he’s pretty emotionally aware. He's known for a long time just how short the lifespan of humans is.

But still, it came in the form of a nightmare. One where he couldn’t save you, despite giving his best efforts. The way you died was tragic, long before your life should have ended. 

This sent Asmo somewhat into a frenzied state trying to find things to keep you alive once he woke up. 

Vitamins, vitamins, vitamins

Humans benefit from vitamins, right? Surely you’d benefit from Devildom vitamins then. If it’ll increase the lifespan of a demon, he sees no reason why it wouldn’t increase your lifespan. 

Of course, it really only gives you nicer nails and shinier hair. 

He’s 10x more intense with your morning and night routines. 

He will be unloading all his facial creams on you, and telling you the benefits of each one and how it might add a few years to your lifespan. 

You want to stay up late at night to finish homework? Maybe watch a movie? Yeah, no, not on Asmo’s watch. 

Your ass is going to bed every night at 10pm, right along with him. You do realize you’ll be getting exactly 8 hours of sleep each night, too, right? 

Beelzebub:

Regarding his trauma with Lilith, it came as no surprise when he started to fret over your well-being. 

Poor Beel saw an article that discussed how tragically easy it is for a human to die. The cherry on top? How they could die from simply overeating. 

Overeating isn’t a concept Beel is overly familiar with (because to him, it’s never overeating), and while he knew most people couldn’t keep up with his eating habits, he didn’t think it could actually cause harm to a human, let alone kill them. 

Grocery trips are now a more anxiety-inducing event. 

He’s suddenly paranoid that any of the Devildom food could and will kill you. Are you allergic to anything? How would you even know? 

What if one day he serves you his favorite boiled dragonhead and you just drop dead at the dinner table?? No, that will never do. 

There’s a list of Devildom foods that he knows for sure you can have without dying, but then comes the issue of portion control. How much is too much for a human? 

Beelzebub swore he would never lose another loved one again, and it’s a promise he intends to keep. From now on, you will only eat what he deems safe. 

You want to try a new food in the Devildom that you’ve never had before? You better get some seriously good convincing skills if you want him to cave in. For someone who only ever thinks with his stomach, he’s surprisingly stubborn. 

Belphegor:

He’s still plagued with nightmares about Lilith, especially since he still thinks it’s his fault. Tack that on to the way he blamed you and the rest of the human race for it? The man is walking trauma. 

 Like Asmodeus, this was brought on by nightmares about you dying. Different from Asmo’s, however, you usually died by his hand. Naturally, considering your tumultuous history. 

Belphegor, unlike his brothers, takes a different approach. He just doesn’t approach you at all. 

What better way to keep your lifespan long than by staying away from you altogether? 

Is it something that he wants? Of course not! But how can he trust himself to never hurt you again? To never kill you again. 

He can’t. 

So, he locks himself away in his room, sleeping most of the day or just avoiding the areas you normally like to lounge. 

On a normal day, almost everyone in the household, including yourself, would notice this behavior change. However, since you’re now being cornered by all the brothers and their concerns about your lifespan, it’s easy for Belphegor’s absence to slip your mind. 

This hurts Belphegor, but at the end of the day, he believes this is for the best.

Lucifer: 

Lucifer didn’t need a reminder of your short lifespan; if anything, it’s something he’s thought plenty about. 

Lucifer has trauma, we all know that much. After Lilith, he’s absolutely terrified of losing another loved one to something outside of his control.

And your lifespan is not something that’s out of his control. At least not how he sees it, anyway. 

If you thought he was overbearing or overprotective before, brace yourself. He’s going to step it up several notches. 

No excess of junk food, no more pulling all-nighters, no more sitting around the house gaming all day, and definitely no more overexerting your use of magic. He’s no fool, he knows the toll your magic could eventually take on your body. 

Honestly? He wasn’t this bad until his brothers started to panic about your mortality, and though Lucifer told himself he was above such nonsense, he quickly found himself taking all the precautions they were taking (and then some). 

Fortunately, if you find yourself becoming overwhelmed, they’ll be more than willing to listen to you (granted you take some of their concerns into account).

[nocturnowlette]

I accidentally revealed a little experiment I was doing to my subject, today, so I finally get to tell you all about it.

I honestly didn't think that covert hypnotic triggers were a thing due to the constant annoying mysticism and years of bad science around hypnosis, as well as stuff like subliminals having absolutely zero actual effects. However, with some testing, I have been delightfully surprised.

To be clear, by a covert trigger, I do not mean a trigger that was given under trance explicitly then had the subject forget or be unaware of when used. I mean a trigger that is installed, reinforced, and used entirely without the subject noticing. It'd be more accurate to call this a preconscious trigger, but the linguistic gods disagree, I suppose.

I decided to use my favorite subject, and someone I'm close with in many ways. I've already trained general obedience into her over time, but have always allowed her to be rebellious because it's fun for the both of us. However...

There's a phrase I liked to use on occasion during trance and outside of it when I'm being a little gently degrading: the phrase, "Isn't that right?" at the end of sentences. Leading questions are natural for gentle domination, and I had already been doing it, so I decided to use it a little bit more often, and with intention.

For about two weeks straight, while under trance and while training general obedience or otherwise while messing with them, I would go, "Isn't that right?" exclusively for questions that were an absolute yes. There's no reason she wouldn't say yes to it, and so, she did, every single time.

The next week or two, I would start peppering in the phrase for slight disagreements. That's to say, things that were a yes, but something that she'd make a small fuss about normally to be rebellious. To my surprise, any time I used the phrase, all rebellion seemed to stop. I actually thought she caught on and was doing it intentionally, but she didn't respond when I signaled that to her.

A few weeks later, after more and more reinforcement, to the point where it was a very common part of my everyday vocabulary, I was able to completely quell any fire she brought up. I would do a short explanation or rationalization, then end the sentence with, "Isn't that right?", and poof, the rebellion goes away.

I accidentally revealed it today as stated due to showing a list of notes I used to keep track of triggers for subjects, but luckily, by the time she found out, it was one of the most potent triggers I had for her. It still works just fine.

Before she did find out, I finally got to hear what she sounded like after all the training when I said it out loud, as I mostly reinforced it via text. It sounded like her voice turned droopy and monotone entirely and only for when she agreed, then went back to normal. It was really, really cute, and I had to stifle a giggle or two.

Luckily, I didn't write down the other few covert triggers I have for her. I'll be having fun with those for a good while longer.

[sincerelybubbles]

hotch x shy!bau!reader <3 fem content: slight age gap implied. reader is new to the team and more on the introverted side! not proof read, as is my hubris.

Tired, nerves buzzing from a night spent up and chasing sleep that was not welcoming, you throw your bag down on your desk and go off in hunt of coffee. You usually try to curb your caffeine intake, especially with the travel associated with your new job, but this morning is a happy exception to your new rule.

"Here," Emily says, watching you scan the cabinets of the kitchen. You hadn't heard her walk in, but she's offering you a mug with a sympathetic smile. "Long night?"

"Yes," you say, tone thankful, and spin to figure out the coffee machine.

"Three weeks and i haven't seen you use that once," she comments, sipping from her own warm mug and watching you settle the filter in place.

"I've stayed away. it's harder to sleep when I get back because of the jet lag, anyway, don't need to add coffee at all odd hours to the list, too."

It's the most you've said in casual conversation like this. To say you've been shy with your new team would be an understatement. You're good at your job, you were pulled from the academy early to do this for a reason. You fit well into the team, generally. You like listening to Spencer ramble, especially on the longer flights. Rossi's dry humor reminds you of one of your old professors you grew up admiring. JJ is a constant breath of fresh air, Morgan's consistent strength has built up your own moral. Garcia took no getting used to, lifting you up and settling into your life easily. Hotch is intimidating but kind under the colder-tones, long glances sometimes distracting but oterhwise comforting. Emily is easily one of your favorites on the team, friendly and whip-smart. But, at the core of it, you're shy. Painfully so, even.

The team caught onto this quick, settling into the truth that your observational nature that makes you so adept at noticing the smaller details is bound to weep into your social life as well. So, despite your comfort levels rising with the team, you find these situations hard. Do you explain your nightmares to Emily? Share that you're a diagnosed insomniac who spent the night watching FRIENDS reruns after chasing sleep that pranced beyond reach?

"You're better than me, then," Emily says, smiling over her mug. Her eyes tell you she's pleased at the little crack into your life that you've let her see. They're all like that: insufferably kind and polite with your introverted nature but greedily sipping up everything they can learn about you.

"It's a new development," you admit, clicking start on the machine and settling back against the counter facing her. Something about your sleepiness makes it easier to talk, your tongue looser, your ache to let loose around the team more profound. "I'm sure most of us are insomniacs, though."

"Not me," Emily says, chuckling. "I get home and feel like I don't wake up until I get back here."

"Ah, well, I'm sure it can feel like a curse no matter what way you fall," you say with a shrug. Emily lifts her coffee in cheers to that.

"Morning," Morgan says, turning into the kitchen and giving you a surprised smile. "Hello, sunshine, you're looking bright eyed today."

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. "I know, I know."

Emily points with her chin at you, "She's making the coffee this morning."

"Ah-ah, remaking it because you and pretty boy always get here first and finish the first pot." Morgan teases her with a slight shake of his head, grinning and opening the fridge to pull out the creamer.

"Well, you snooze you loose. Or," she sends you a smile, complete with a little nose wrinkle and a tilt of her head, "you don't snooze and still loose."

"Clever," you say, voice dry with humor, hiding your laugh by turning around as the pot finished brewing. "I'll remember this later."

"Careful, she's got teeth," Morgan warns Emily, reaching around you to grab the coffee before you can and filling his cup.

"Hey!" You call in protest, voice raising louder than usual and a pout hitting your lips. Morgan laughs, white teeth on display, eyes crinkled at the corners.

"Here, here," he says, placating, tipping the pitcher to fill your cup as well. "Any sugar or cream to placate the beast?"

Before you can answer, a laugh on the tip o your tongue, Hotch walks in and settles his watchful eyes on you, interest sparking them. You shrink, not in fear but in self-awareness, and send him a closed lip smile. Stepping away from Morgan, you turn quickly to fix your own coffee.

"Good morning," Hotch says, nodding at Emily and Morgan, answering Emily's question about Jack's recent sickness (he's recovering well, thank you) and trying to catch your eye.

You duck away, cowardly and regressing back into your shell, deciding it's time to get to work and stop indulging. You catch Morgan tease Hotch as you leave, though, "Aw, you've scared her off."

You try not to think about it as you duck away, pushing all thoughts of your boss away.

You're unsuccessful.

The problem isn't that you're afraid of him because you think he's mean or unkind in any way. He's done his best to welcome you to the team, allowing you to take investigations in your own direction and listening to your insights since day one. There was a brief moment in your first week where you felt tested, like his questions weren't to gain your insight but to see if you were up to the task, but you slipped past that easily. you have the credentials to back yourself up. you're quiet, yeah, but you're always right on track to where you need to be. pulled early from academy to jump into investigating was hard but it made this easy. a few years of experience under your belt and the job feels natural and, even with the shift in teams to join the big guns in Quantico, you feel like you're exactly where you're meant to be.

No, embarrassingly, this has nothing to do with you not liking your boss or being afraid of him. Rather, he makes you too comfortable. He ducks his head to hear you speak as you walk and talk, settling deep eyes on your face. He's sturdy, dependable, and exactly everything you're all too interested in.

You hate it, harboring a school crush on your boss like you're a teen pining over your teacher. You know it's normal, you know it's perfectly reasonable and there's absolutely nothing wrong with being attracted to him, but you still slink away from him more than the others because of that attraction.

Because it's more than physical.

He listens when you talk. Granted, so do the rest of the team - they're profilers, of course they catalogue everything everyone is saying for future reference. But, beyond that, you catch him paying attention. He complimented your new blouse earlier in the week and it caused air to catch in your throat, suffocating you. It looked new, bright white and without wrinkles, but you knew he must have been looking, noticing, to remember you not wearing it before. He's kind, remembering details about you and the team and using them to aid in everyone's comfort. He knows Spencer can't handle dairy and you've heard him reminding an intern to stock the dairy-free alternatives for creamer in the jet. He brought you a neck pillow on your second flight because you didn't have one.

That gift you accepted with stuttering thank-you's and a flushed face. It hadn't flared this crush, but it definitely aided in your ability to accept it when you finally got around to no longer avoiding how he made you feel with every kind smile and gentle good morning.

You settle down at your desk, putting your steaming mug on a pile of paperwork you really need to sort through, and try to physically push the thoughts out of your head by ranking your hands through your hair, lifting it from your forehead and squeezing your eyes shut. Today isn't the day. You're too tired, sure that the team will be flying out today, and really need to be on your A-Game.

"Everything okay?" A calm voice asks from your elbow. When you look up, you decide the universe hates you. Hotch is leaning on the desk adjacent to yours, holding his own travel cup full of fresh coffee, chin tilted down to check on you. His gaze is kind, light on your face, and his eyebrows are lifted slightly. You get the feeling that he's doing everything in his power to present himself as less imposing.

"Yes, of course," you answer automatically, heart thudding in your throat.

"You know, you shouldn't lie to profilers," he says, tone teasing, voice still low. "If you're tired, it's okay to admit it to me, too."

You're about to brush him off when something in your brain freezes before clicking into place.

He's looking at you, pleading, expression open. He's usually guarded, professional. Caring, but with a guard up. Rare are these moments of genuine asking, especially rarer so are the moment of pleading hidden behind a mask of gentle humor. You think, briefly, about how it must seem to him. He heard you, Emily, and Morgan joking in the kitchen. You haven't been here long, you're shy, but slowly thawing to everyone but him. He doesn't know your reasons, he couldn't, you've made a genuine effort to hide them, and you force yourself to see it from his perspective.

"Sorry," you say, softly, slowly. "I didn't sleep well. First nightmares and then insomnia. Hence," you gesture toward your mug. You shrug, heart beating out of your chest, eyes searching his. Nice, be nice, be open and kind and yourself. "At least I have FRIENDS reruns to keep me company."

You see something relax in him at your gentle offering of the information. He sends you a not-quite-smile, nodding once and pushing himself off of the desk he was lightly leaning against.

"Take a few minutes, I'm sure JJ will call us in soon." He scans your face for a moment before looking down at your desk. He reaches forward, slowly but with purpose, and lifts a file that has been nagging you for days. The new computer system is hard to get used to and the paperwork load is heavier than you've experienced before. "I can help you with this to ease some of your load, too."

He's walking away before you can protest, tucking the file under his arm and ducking into his office. He moves swiftly, leaving no room for argument, and you're left at your desk, mouth agape and heart in your mouth.

"Wow," Spencer says, jolting you in your chair to spin around and face him. His desk is near yours, across a walkway, and you hadn't registered him sitting there. You think he was nose-deep in a book when you walked in but you hadn't been paying attention. "I don't think I've seen him warm up to someone that fast," Spencer admits, leaning back in his seat and giving you a confused look, eyebrows lowered. "Actually, he's never offered to help me do my paperwork. Ever."

"That's because you read far too fast for it to actually help you," you offer, mind racing, words hollow as your thoughts are elsewhere.

Eyes trained on the windows of Hotch's office, you take his advice and relax for the few minutes before JJ comes to gather you all in the conference room. Coffee on your lips, you let yourself smile behind the rim of your mug. You can't imagine how you could think of anything other than that, really.