#i could write an essay on him i love him so much😭😭😭

[theteethofbeauty]

the very first moment i laid eyes on abbacchio i knew IMMEDIATELY in my heart that he was going to die and i also knew i was going to love him regardless

[cityselcouth]

for research purposes

pairing: caleb x reader

summary: how on earth were you supposed to write a good sex scene with almost zero experience? good thing your best friend was always willing to lend you a helping hand.

themes: childhood best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, friends with benefits, college! au, slowburn, humour, fluff, angst, petnames, profanity, alcohol consumption, sexual tension, explicit sexual content (oral fem receiving, fingering, nipple play, protected + unprotected sex, clothed sex), porn with so much plot, they're both down bad asf

word count: 25k

lyns notes: its been so long since i've written a full length fic like this, and it ended up being so much longer than I anticipated but please don't get scared by the wc 😭 its so self indulgent because i love caleb and I had way too much fun writing this so I hope you enjoy! <3

This was utterly insane, even for you.

The idea started small, though you supposed you couldn’t ever classify it as innocent. At the time, it had been just a flicker, a fleeting thought that slipped through the cracks of your composure. You were in your best friend's dorm, lounging on his bed like it was your own as you complained. 

“I’ve been stuck for weeks now. It’s like I’ve lost the ability to write.”

Caleb glanced over at you from his desk, leaning back in his plush chair as the movement of his fingers over the laptop keyboard stilled for a moment. The expression you received was familiar, you had been on the receiving end of it for years now. One of his lips quirked up, deep lavender eyes alight with amusement, and one eyebrow raised as he took in your anguished state. 

“You haven’t lost the ability to write, Pipsqueak, it's just writer's block. You’ve had writer's block before.”

“Not like this.” You shook your head, pulling your knees to your chest and resting your chin on them. “I usually manage to overcome it in a week or so. It’s been like, three months.”  Your annoyance with yourself was obvious to him, so clear in the slight pout on your mouth paired with that indignant expression.

It was true, you had been writing ever since you were little. Your imagination ran wild as a child, even before you could physically write, you would spin tales and make up stories to entertain yourself with, frequently getting lost in your own little world. You prided yourself on this talent of yours that helped you breeze through English essays and writing assignments, even going so far as to major in English at university. Writing was your bread and butter. It was more than just being good at it, it was the passion and fulfilment you felt when you did it. 

Passion and fulfillment your ass, you couldn’t feel any of that right now.

You were writing a book, your very first one that you started penning in the summer before your sophomore year. The idea had come to you out of nowhere, and once you spent hours outlining all the details, you were certain it was something you wanted to bring to life. The need to finish it burned through you as you spent most of that break stuck at your desk, hunched over your laptop. Caleb had to quite literally drag you out of your room most days, muttering some nonsense about vitamin D and too much screen time.

He had always been like that ever since you were kids – protective, caring, attentive. It was built into his very being, you supposed, ever since he saw you cry outside the first-grade classrooms as a seven-year-old and promised to help you find your way to the correct one. Even now, as he hummed in thought, offering silent support for your frustration. 

“You’ve gotten through a large chunk of it, right?”

“Yep.”

A slow, bargaining smile stretched out on his face. “Hey, you know, maybe if you let me read it–”

“Hell no.” You shook your head stubbornly. “I told you, I’m only letting you read it once it's finished, and I think it’s good enough.”

Caleb snorted, “So you mean never?”

You promptly threw one of the plushies on his bed at him. He deftly caught it, laughter slipping from him as he threw it back. The plushy was a grumpy apple one that he had won you back home at the arcade, but the pile of plushies on your bed was so huge that you graciously suggested that he keep it for you. Partial custody, you had joked, I have visitation rights.

“You’ll be the first to read it. I just….need to get through this one bit.” 

Ah yes, the bit. The part that you seemed to be cursed to never finish. Everything before it had gone so smoothly, the words flowing and pouring out of you so perfectly. A fun romance novel full of twists and humour was what you aimed to achieve, and it seemed like you were succeeding.

That was, until you reached a part of the story that you truly had no idea how to write. The technicalities of it were.…..unknown at best, to you, who had almost no experience in the matter. 

“You know, maybe you could tell me about it. Maybe I could help.” You knew the offer was genuine. Caleb had always been someone you could fall back upon for any assistance. Being two years older than you, in your eyes, he always knew what to do when you were in a pickle. He was the type of friend who placed bandages on your scrapes and offered you candy so you’d stop crying. He carried a hair tie around for when you wanted to tie your hair and helped you study for tests, and explained the concepts that you didn’t understand. Every time you had a problem, he never hesitated to help you in any way he possibly could.

But this….this was something you’d rather die than ask him about. 

Immediately, you shook your head a little too quickly, shooting him a tight smile. “Nope, it's fine. Just something I gotta figure out myself.

He stared at you skeptically but shrugged. “Alright. Let me know if you change your mind, okay?”

You wouldn’t.

Would you?

Absolutely not. Even thinking about it felt like a betrayal. It was like opening a can of worms that held snakes. Deadly venomous ones. 

And yet here you were, your teeth digging into the plush of your lower lip as he turned back to his laptop screen, continuing to work on whatever assignment he had due. He was in his final year and was infinitely busy, though he somehow still managed to make time for you. 

Shamelessly, your eyes studied him. His arms, so well defined and firm-looking, were basically on display for you when he wore that white, sleeveless tee. Dark hair, unruly and messy, no matter how many times you ran your fingers through it in an attempt to fix it. A defined jawline that could probably cut you if you dared touch it. He had grown up unfairly well, no longer the lanky young boy you once knew, now a man. A hot man you had incredible chemistry with.

A very hot man who was completely off-limits. 

Still. You supposed that his help couldn’t be the worst thing in the world–

A sex scene. That was what you were struggling to right. In terms of the story, it was a very natural next move for your characters, and it made sense, and while you could simply artistically describe the ordeal and fade to black, you felt it was a necessary addition. You wanted to showcase the desperation the two characters felt for each other, just how deep their feelings ran through something more primal. You wanted it to feel right, to feel magical. 

The issue? You hadn’t the faintest idea of how to go about it. In all your nineteen years of life, you had only had sex once, and it had been far from magical. It had been uncomfortable and rushed, the result of a very stupid, drunken one-night stand in your first year. The guy very evidently didn’t know how a woman's body worked, and even thinking back on it made you cringe and fold in on yourself. If it were possible to manually pluck the memory out and destroy it, you would have done it in a heartbeat.

So how on earth were you supposed to write the perfect sex scene when your one sole experience in the matter had been so terrible?

And you couldn’t ask Caleb for help. Even considering doing so made you feel as if you would spontaneously combust. He was your best friend, for crying out loud, and this crossed so many lines. You knew very well that he wasn’t a virgin by any means, having caught glimpses of the occasional hickey on his neck despite his best efforts to hide it from you. He was twenty-one, experienced and could probably talk you through it–

Nope. Not going here. 

The idea of Caleb explaining sex to you was mortifying. You didn’t want to hear about any of his conquests, even just the thought of him talking about it made you want to throw up. The notion of him having sex only made your cheeks warm and your throat go uncomfortably dry.

Against your will, the thought festered. It burrowed its way into your mind and settled there as if it belonged, despite its having no business being there. This was completely unethical, but before you could stop yourself, your gaze zeroed in on his tongue darting out of his mouth, licking his lips in concentration as he typed out something. For a second, you wondered how it would feel if he dragged that tongue across the skin of your neck.

Oh my god. What if he simply showed you?

The moment that depraved idea popped into your head, you shot up, getting to your feet with urgency. Startled, he looked over at you, frowning at the alarmed look on your face.

“Are you good?”

“I’m great!” Your voice sounded funny, like you were trying to digest a rock. “I just– er– remembered I have some homework to finish for tomorrow. So I should get back to my room.” You padded over to his door, slipping into your shoes and waving at him. “See ya.”

“....Bye.” He watched your awkward, rushed movements with a puzzled look on his (very nice) face.. You nodded curtly before opening the door and escaping the confines of his dorm, out of his scrutinising gaze that could read you annoyingly well. Another minute in there and you knew he would be grilling you for your odd behaviour. 

Jesus Christ. You were so screwed.

“Y/n? Girl, you gotta get your head in the game.”

Tara’s voice cut through your reverie, causing you to snap out of it. One glance up at her would reveal an unimpressed look directed at you, her hands on her hips. “Our darling editor wants to know why your article isn’t on her desk yet.”

Tara was your closest friend after Caleb, and you had met her when you joined the university paper as a student journalist. She was smart, pretty and always had your back no matter what. Blinking rapidly, you sighed, waving your hand. 

“Tell Jenna I’ll have it there by the end of the day.”

“You better. You know how she is about deadlines.” Tara pulled one of the chairs from the desk beside yours closer and sat on it, resting her elbows on the armrests. “Seriously, though, why are you spaced out today?”

Well, there was no way you could tell her the truth about that. So you resorted to using a half-truth as an answer. “Writer's block.”

“Ah.”

You turned back to the screen of your computer, staring at the article you had been writing. It was almost finished, thank god. At least here, you had the facts to write around, having done your research. Very different to the situation you found yourself in regarding your stupid book.

Ugh. 

“By the way, your boyfriend’s here.”

Your head snapped up at her words, already ready to argue, knowing exactly who she was talking about. Walking into the newsroom holding two coffees was Caleb, wearing that blue-orange jacket that you had bought him for one of his birthdays. He did this pretty often, sauntering in like he owned the place even though he was technically not allowed to be there. Jenna had repeatedly reminded him of this, but he brushed it off, and after a while, she simply stopped bothering. Thus, despite not being on the paper, he spent a lot of time in the newsroom.

This was another problem you faced daily: people mistaking him for your boyfriend. The number of times you had to rehash the fact that he was simply your best friend was astounding, and back when you were a freshman, the constant whistles about you dating an upperclassman– and none other than Caleb Xia– drove you mad. You chalked it down to none of them being fortunate enough to experience a friendship as fulfilling and real as the one you had with him.

“He’s not my boyfriend.” You dropped your voice, keeping it just loud enough for her to hear your rebuttal that held a hint of venom, plastering a smile on your face as he closed in. Tara snickered. 

“Sure, and I’m the queen of England.”

“Hey,” Caleb grinned down at you, his eyes momentarily flitting to your friend. “And what?”

“Nothing,” you said brightly, shooting her a murderous look that silently told her to zip it. She smiled innocently and shook her head, slipping back to her desk without another word.

“She’s an odd one,” he quipped, handing you one of the coffees and then shrugging off the jacket, dumping it on the free space on your desk. You already knew it was your regular order, something he had memorised years ago. You sipped the drink, letting the hot liquid calm you down, grateful for the caffeine. You hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before, spending it tossing and turning in your bed.

And why was that?

Caleb leaned against your desk. “Are you free later today?” 

A dejected sigh escaped you. “Unfortunately, no. I need to finish this article by the end of the day, and it seems like my writer's block has infected every aspect of my life.” It was ironic, just how true that statement ran.

“Damn.” You could hear the tinge of disappointment in his voice. “I was hoping we would have movie night. I stocked up on your favourite candy.” He reached over, his fingers brushing against the skin of your forehead as he pushed some of your hair that fell in front of your eyes away from your face, neatly tucking it behind your ear like it was second nature. It was, you supposed, considering he had done so about a hundred times.

But something was different this time, or perhaps you were paying far too much attention to every little thing. To how he pulled back and the way the muscles in his forearm shifted subtly, making you wish he had kept the jacket on. The brief touch lingered on your skin, burned into it.

Fucking hell, you were a mess. A tragic, down-atrocious mess.

Your eyes lingered on his fingers for a moment. Heat crept up your neck, and you coughed, rubbing it absent-mindedly, hoping to push down the flush you felt taking over your body. It had been like this ever since the day in his dorm when your brain had decided to work against you and infect you with the thought of sex with your best friend.

What better way was there to describe your state than calling it an infection? It certainly felt like some sort of sickness with the way it plagued you against your will. Somehow, it was worse than the doomed crush you had harboured for him back when you were in high school, because at least that had been innocent. That was born out of pure admiration, and you were sixteen. A lot of things done at sixteen could be brushed off under the excuse of being young and naive. You had quickly gotten over it. 

You were evidently no longer so naive. In fact, you knew too much.

“Maybe next time.” You managed to choke out finally after a silence that had stretched a beat too long. Part of you hoped he’d leave you alone now so that you could calm down and refocus your attention to the article. 

But of course, he didn’t. Instead, he occupied the chair Tara previously had, complaining about one of his classes as you nodded along, sipping your coffee and glancing between him and your screen. The smooth cadence of his voice usually soothed you and calmed you down, but now it only put you on edge, flowing over scrambled thoughts like honey. Had his arms always been this nice?

You were going to hell.

All things considered, you held yourself to certain standards. You were a woman with morals and integrity, and you were not in the habit of staring at shirtless men.

Except when it was Caleb, apparently. 

“Why are you half-naked?” You blurted out gracelessly, heat viciously curling up your body as your eyes dropped down to his torso. You gripped the Chinese takeout you had gotten on your way back from your evening class a little tighter as you took in his figure. A silver chain with a tag and apple pendant (something you had given him before he left for university while you were still struggling in high school) on his bare chest and perfect sculpted abs, running shorts hanging low on his hips. 

“I was working out.” He said casually, taking the bag of takeout from your hands and walking back into his dorm, leaving you to follow him. You bit down on your tongue hard, almost hoping you’d draw blood. 

This was ridiculous. You had seen him shirtless several times before and had never reacted like this. The other times hadn’t caused you to flush and definitely didn’t cause your heart rate to spike. It didn’t have you furiously fighting off thoughts that had threatened to consume you for over a week now, pushing them back into the furthest parts of your mind and locking them there. 

“I’m almost done, could you grab sodas from the fridge?” Caleb placed the food on the table beside his bed. You wordlessly complied, picking the apple-flavoured sodas that both of you liked. Turning back to the main area of his dorm, you walked over, only to stop dead in your tracks.

Caleb was on the floor. Doing push-ups.

There was nothing inherently sexual about it in the slightest. You knew he liked to stay in shape, hitting the gym at least thrice a week to maintain his physique– a very nice physique that seemed to be your current undoing. His hair fell across his forehead, a little matted from sweat. You watched as he pressed down and back up, and in a moment of weakness, you wondered how it would be if you were under him instead of standing to the side and ogling like an idiot. Would his necklace dangle above you, swinging back and forth in your face?

Dear god. You needed to be sedated. Put down, even.

Finally, he seemed to be done, lowering himself down and then rolling onto his back. He sucked in a breath of hair, running his hands through his hair and messing it up even further. Finally, he sat up and looked up at you, a singular eyebrow raised.

“Why are you just standing there?”

Brilliant question. If only you could answer it. 

Choosing to skillfully evade instead, you tossed him his soda can and grabbed his laptop from his desk, settling down next to him on the floor. Tonight, the two of you had decided to have dinner together and catch up on an anime you had started together a couple of weeks ago. It had been a while since you had properly hung out, and you knew damn well that it was all your fault. 

You were avoiding him. Mentally and physically, especially physically. Caleb, however, being the understanding, saint of a man that he was, chalked it up to you being busy. He made sure to check in on you, shooting you texts or sending you funny videos he knew you’d like. 

“We should try and finish all the episodes up until the latest one,” You said, opening up his laptop and logging into the anime site. “They released a new one on Wednesday.” 

Caleb hummed, stretching his arms as he shuffled closer. Immediately, you froze, the close contact inciting pure panic within you. Jerking away from him, you glared, holding a hand out to keep an arm's distance between the two of you, much to his confusion. 

“Put on a shirt.”

He frowned. “Why? It’s really hot.”

Indeed, it was. “Exactly. You’re all sweaty and gross.”

You really shouldn’t have said that. The moment the words left your mouth, his mouth curled into a smirk– one so disgustingly attractive that you were sure your knees would have probably buckled if you weren’t already sitting down– and his eyes lit up with a mischievous glint that told you he was up to no good. Carefully, he wrapped a hand around your wrist, and the contact has your brain short-circuiting and going into overdrive.

“I think that means you want a hug.”

“Wait– don’t you dare– Caleb!” You yelped as he tugged you harshly, forcing you to fall into his lap, his laughter resounding through the small dorm room. Awkwardly, you shoot your other hand out to steady yourself, placing it on his shoulder as you tumble into him, knee slotting in between his legs and body so dangerously close to his that you wanted to scream. Smoothly, he wrapped his other arm around your waist, circling it and somehow tugging you even closer, until you were flush against him.

“What are you gonna do now, Pips?” He taunted, voice just above a whisper right against your ear. 

Unicorns, you bleakly thought to yourself. Puppies. Cupcakes. Sprinkles.

“You’re so annoying,” You hissed, throwing as much irritation into your voice as you possibly could in the hopes that it would drown out the shakiness you felt. His skin under your fingertips was warm, and you could feel that warmth through the fabric of your tank top. “Go fuck yourself.”

He laughed harder, the sound so contagious it broke you out of your downright sinful thoughts. You gripped his shoulder a little harder, mentally chastising yourself for the situation you found yourself in, knowing that there was no good reason for you to be this riled up. Playfighting with him was something you were used to; it was natural. It should not have had your blood pressure rising and heart slamming in your chest so violently.

Swallowing thickly, you barely processed how he let go of your wrist, his other arm also coming to rest around your waist as he pulled you further into his lap so that you were now sitting on top of him. Before you even had the chance to react to that, he buried his face in the crook of your neck and inhaled. 

“Missed you this week,” He mumbled softly against your rapidly heating skin. You froze for a split second at the contact, hopelessly blaming the flush spread over your cheeks on the humid weather.

And then you softened. 

Instinctively, your arms wrapped around his neck as you hugged him back. “I missed you too,” You whispered, following up with a lie to keep him off your trail. “Just had a lot of work.”

“I know,” he said so patiently that you instantly felt guilty. He lifted his face from your neck so that he could stare at you, and it hit you just how intimate the position the two of you were in was. Although reserved with others, Caleb had always been pretty openly affectionate with you. His hand on the small of your back, fingers intertwined with yours, a light kiss to your temple in encouragement– he had been doing stuff like that to you since you were ten. 

So why did it suddenly affect you so much? Why did something so normal for you make you feel so different now?

“Just….tell me about it,” he continued, those mesmerising purple eyes of his locked onto yours. “Shoot me a text. Let me know what's up with you. Don’t you remember the last time you shut everyone out because you were stressed?”

You did remember. It was during your finals last year, when the workload you had overwhelmed you so badly that you simply pushed everyone away until they were over. Caleb had to practically storm his way back into your life and demand that you take a break and slow down before you worked yourself to the bone. The fact that he remembered this only made your guilt worse because your distance this time had nothing to do with your classwork. 

It had everything to do with him, though. 

“Yeah, yeah,” you mumbled, slowly slipping out of his embrace and settling down next to him once again. You had to remind yourself of what he was to you, and all this thirsting for him was neither healthy nor something a good best friend would do. “I’m not gonna do that again.” 

“I’m just saying. And what the hell am I supposed to do with my free time if you’re not here to bother me?” He flashed you that shit-eating grin of his that you were starting to think was more devastating than mischievous.

You had to resist strangling him.

There was only one possible conclusion: something was deeply wrong with you.

How else were you supposed to explain your borderline insane behaviour? It had gotten even worse lately, causing you to daydream at the most inconvenient times, like when you were trying to get an assignment done or even in the middle of class. It was a wonder your professors hadn’t called you out for it yet. 

Some level of restraint seemed to remain, though, with you stopping your thoughts from crossing any lines. The moment you caught your mind straying into dangerous territory, you forced yourself to stop, desperately searching for another distraction.

But there was only so much you could do. Thinking was proving to be a dangerous activity.

You pressed your palms into your eyes, hard. It was almost three in the morning, and you hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep. Earlier, you had tried to write around the damned scene, but emerged fruitless. It was like an obstacle you had to clear before you could get to the next level of a game, taunting you with its incompletion.

Something else taunted you, simmering underneath the expanse of your skin. Things that hadn’t even happened yet, but you had already dreamed of them– his mouth on yours, his hands tracing your body with a feather touch. 

You were even wearing one of his shirts right now, the oversized tee reaching down to your mid-thighs. Several, just like the one you currently wore, sat neatly in your closet, having been stolen from him over the years. You could faintly smell his cologne; cidery and comforting, enveloping you in what felt like it could be his embrace. Turning onto your side, you pulled the blanket over your body and stared at the wall blankly. 

Caleb had been your safe space for so long, and perhaps that was why you gravitated so easily to thinking about him like this. If there was anyone you trusted in such an intimate sense, it was him. 

Even if it shouldn’t have been.

God knows you needed to get laid. Unfortunately, you didn’t want just anyone.

You swore you had never been this horny before, least of all for your best friend. Thinking about him in such a salacious way was strictly a new development that was quickly ruining your life, haunting you day and night. Even now, lying in your bed, heat that was impossible to ignore bloomed between your legs. 

Maybe if you just indulged once, this madness would stop. Maybe you just needed an orgasm, and then you’d stop going insane over every single interaction you had with Caleb. It didn’t even have to be about him, and this was normal; everyone needed a release now and then. 

Your fingers slipped between your legs, pushing the fabric of his shirt up, tracing the outline of your cotton underwear. Your eyes fluttered shut as you let your fingertips gently graze against where you needed them most, letting your legs fall apart just a little bit–

Deep purple eyes flashed behind your closed eyes.

Gasping, you retracted your hand like you had been burned. There was no way in hell you could touch yourself with him in mind; that was everything you had been avoiding for the past three weeks, ever since the notion had first sprouted. Groaning, you buried your face into the pillow.

This had to have been the stupidest cause of insomnia ever.

Caleb 🍎 [15:32 pm] : i better see u at the party tonight :D

Caleb 🍎 [15:32 pm] : will pick u up at 9

Caleb 🍎 [15:32 pm] : no buts.

Caleb supposed that this was technically his fault.

Mentally, he had already prepared for this outcome. It was why he had barely drunk the entire night, barely finishing two drinks and opting out of playing beer pong with the rest of his friends, despite Gideon's need for another member on his team. 

“Come on, Pipsqueak.” He had an arm around your waist to help steady you, ensuring you wouldn’t fall flat on your face. You stumbled into the elevator, and he jammed the number of your dorm floor as you wrapped your arms around his torso weakly, leaning into him. Right now, he was the only thing keeping you upright.

You were drunk, slurring your words and unable to walk in a straight line without any assistance type of drunk.  And yes, this was his fault. 

Probably. Definitely.

One of the frat houses had thrown a party, and he had insisted that you come with him. He had always been great at reading you, and for the last couple of weeks, you had seemed tense over something, though you hadn’t told him what exactly it was yet. That was fine, he knew that eventually you’d spill, but for now, all he wanted to do was help you let loose. 

That was exactly what he told you to do when both of you arrived at the party, even pouring you your first drink. Halfway through the party, you seemed more relaxed than you had in the last couple of days, swaying along to the music by his side. He made sure not to drink too much, wanting to be sober enough to safely get you back to your dorm just in case you overdid it.

His intuition always ended up being right when it came to you.

You whined as the elevator dinged, the doors opening. “Everything is spinning.”

“I know, honey, we’re almost there.” He helped you walk into the hallway, smoothly taking your handbag from you and extracting your keys. Holding you tighter, he opened the door and pulled you through, carefully seating you down on your bed and taking your boots off.

Like clockwork, he grabbed a bottle of water from your bedside table, unscrewed it and held it to your cherry-tinted lips. You only used that specific lip-tint when you were going out, and each time you did, he found himself wondering if it tasted like cherry as well. Even now, as he gently propped his index finger under your chin and tilted your face upwards, he entertained the idea of tasting it for himself.

But he wouldn’t. 

“Drink up,” He said softly, “You’re gonna have a nasty hangover tomorrow.”

Obediently, you parted your lips, drinking with his help. Your cheeks were flushed due to the alcohol, hair a little frizzy from the heat, but still maintaining the styling you had done before the party. To him, you looked stunning at all times, but he could see the effort you had put in to look nice tonight, from your outfit (a black halter top and jeans) to your makeup, which he knew he’d have to help you take off now. 

Once he deemed the amount of water you had drunk enough, he put the bottle back and went into your bathroom, knowing exactly where to find your makeup wipes. He had taken care of you like this once before, so his body moved like clockwork. There was no point in trying to get you to the bathroom– you’d probably just sit down on the floor and stay there for the rest of the night– so he took the wipes with him and crouched down in front of where you sat on your bed. 

Smiling, he held your face again, this time a little firmer. “You’d hate yourself if you went to sleep before you took your makeup off,” he whispered, pulling one of the wipes out and dragging it over the apples of your face. Then, he glanced up and into your eyes, noting how you stared at him so keenly, even through a half-lidded gaze, lips slightly parted. 

If Caleb could’ve kept your attention on him like this for the rest of his life, he would have. 

“What's going through that head of yours?” He cocked his head to the side, studying your intent expression. Immediately, you looked away, but he wasn’t going to back down. Something had been troubling you, and he was determined to find out what. If you wouldn’t tell him outright, he would simply have to guess. “Is it your book, again?”

Your inebriated state made it hard for you to hide things from him. You stiffened in his touch, and he chuckled. “Bingo. You know, if you just told me what you were struggling with, I’d help.” He pressed your chin lightly, angling your face downwards. “Close your eyes.” He gently wiped over your eye makeup, making sure it was all off before continuing. “I know I’m not a writer, but I’m sure I'll be of some value.”

Finally done, he neatly folded the dirty wipe and placed it to the side. “Want some more water? Alcohol is dehydrating.”

And then, out of nowhere, you spoke. 

“Sex.”

Well, blurting would probably be a better way to describe how you said the word. Caleb blinked rapidly, wondering if he had heard you correctly as his face snapped back to yours, eyes wide. 

“What?”

“Sex.” You slurred a little bit as you leaned closer to him, jutting your lower lip out in a pout and repeating it once more for good measure. “Sex.”

“I heard you the first time,” Caleb could hear how strangled his voice was, unable to think straight at your sudden declaration. Oblivious to his mental distress, you thrust out your hand and pointed at the laptop that sat on your desk with drunken animosity. 

“I can’t write a stupid sex scene.” 

You sounded so crestfallen, and he would have totally started sympathising with you if not for the reason. A sex scene? What on earth were you writing?

“I–” He swallowed, “Well–”

“I mean, how am I supposed to write a good sex scene if I don’t know what good sex feels like? Or what even like, happens?” Alcohol had certainly loosened you up, and perhaps a bit too much, having erased any filter that you had. This resulted in you rambling on about everything you would have usually kept to yourself, and for good reason. “The sex I’ve had has been shitty.”

The sex you’ve had? Caleb almost bit his tongue off in shock, staring at you incredulously at the information you had dumped on him. He hadn’t even known you had been having sex, and thank every god for that, because he would have probably jumped off a cliff if you ever talked about your sex life with him. Surely, this was some sort of twisted fever dream he had found himself in. This could not have been real life.

“Christ,” He choked out, “I–okay, maybe I can’t help you–”

“Yeah, you can.” Your eyes cut to his, a little too intense for his sanity. “If you fucked me, I’d probably be able to write the scene.”

He gaped at you, about a dozen inappropriate thoughts running through his head before he could stop it. “What did you just say?” 

Teenage Caleb would have died if he had heard you say that. Adult Caleb nearly did. 

You sighed heavily, and it only succeeded in causing him to spiral even more. “I thought about it. I’m sure it would be good, y’know. You’d know what you were doing, you even look like you’re good at it.”

“You’re so drunk.” He tried to reason with himself out loud, but could hardly recognise his voice with how strained he sounded. Looked like he was good at it? What alternate dimension had he just fallen into? 

���Oh, come on, Caleb. I need some hands-on learning, and you–” you slurred the words as you leaned close and wrapped your hands around his bicep, peering up at him through your lashes. “–have very nice hands. They’re hot.”

You, his best friend, his pipsqueak, had thought about sleeping with him. You thought his hands were hot. The news nearly killed him, and he had to force himself to look away from you, his mind running at a mile a minute. Heat prickled at his face and neck, impossible to ignore as he cleared his throat and stood to his feet, pulling away from your touch. 

“You should sleep.” He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans, stepping away from you. “I–I’ll see you tomorrow.” It was as if he were going through puberty all over again, with the way his voice cracked embarrassingly as he spoke. He left your room hurriedly,  barely getting his shoes back on as he closed the door behind him and leaned against it.

Caleb exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose as the back of his head hit your door. All these years of barely keeping it together around you, carefully tiptoeing between right and wrong, only for you to come and crash into whatever self-restraint he had left. 

Right and wrong. 

All of a sudden, he wasn’t sure if he was going to choose correctly anymore. 

Death had to have been more merciful than the pounding in your head. Grabbing the covers, you pulled them over yourself like a cocoon, trying your hardest to block out all noises and sink even further into your mattress. 

Unfortunately, your hangover-induced headache made it nearly impossible for you to go back to sleep. Cursing, you forced yourself out of bed and into the bathroom to freshen up and change out of your clothes and into something more comfortable. Naturally, you gravitated towards an oversized shirt and a pair of shorts, pulling them on after a quick shower. 

Then, you went right back to your bed, not wanting to face the day in the slightest. You had managed to resist throwing up so far, and even the thought of having to function like a normal human being made you recoil into your blanket and stay there for the rest of the week. Just as you began to genuinely entertain that notion, a sharp knock at your door caught your attention.

You would have ignored it if you didn’t know the pattern of this knock by heart. No one but Caleb knocked twice in sequence. 

Cursing under your breath, you scrambled to the door and opened it, squinting as the bright light of the hallway outside nearly blinded you. There he stood, grinning down at you as he held up a paper bag. 

“Aspirin.”

“Thank god,” you immediately let him in, taking the medicine from him and pouring yourself a glass of water. He stood right behind you as you took the pill, ruffling your already messy hair and staring for just a second too long. 

“Bad morning, huh?”

“You have no idea.” You winced at the whiny nature of your voice. “It feels like my head is trying to stab itself.”

Caleb chuckled dryly, sitting down on your bed and watching as you settled at your desk and ran your fingers through your hair, trying to smooth out the knots. Something was different about the way he was looking at you, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

“You’ll be fine,” He muttered, shifting his gaze to the ceiling. You frowned, taking in the way his jaw ticked, and placed your glass of water down.

“Are you okay?”

“Me? Yeah, I’m fine.” He said it a little too brightly, glancing down at your desk. Something flickered in his eyes. “Made any progress on that book of yours?”

A frustrated sound left you buried your face in your hands, elbows on your desk. The reminder of your stagnant writing somehow worsened your headache, as if that was even possible. Of course he’d bring that up. “As usual, no.”

For a while, you had hoped that inspiration would strike you eventually, but it seemed like you were well and truly stuck. It had only taken a turn for the worse, with you suddenly despising everything you had already written, unable to even skim any of it without cringing and wanting to hit delete. Your inability to write had morphed into impostor syndrome, which was a development you didn’t appreciate in the slightest.

“It’s okay,” he said, and you would have mistaken his tone for reassuring if not for the way his lips twitched slightly. “I’m sure you’ll be able to write eventually. After you fuck me, apparently.”

Silence. 

Razor-sharp silence.

Slowly, you turned your head to face him, eyes wide as saucers. “What….did you just say?”

“Only what you said last night. You said you were sure it would be good, which I beg to differ. It would be amazing, thank you very much.” He dared to smile oh-so innocently, as if he hadn’t just upgraded the superlative of what sex with him would potentially be like.

If you thought you were going to throw up before, you were sure you were going to now. You almost choked on your spit, waves of unadulterated shock crashing through your system as you gawked at your best friend, who appeared much too pleased with himself at the moment. If you weren’t so utterly horrified, you would have tried to slap the smug expression right off of his face.

“No.” The singular word comes out breathless, much to your mortification, your gut churning at the implications of that statement. “No, no, no–”

“Oh yes,” He grinned wickedly, leaning back on the palms of his hands. 

“What–what the fuck did I drink last night.” You tried your levity, but your embarrassment ran too deep. Reaching up, you covered your face with your hands in a pathetic attempt to hide away from him. Never, in a million years, had you ever accounted for having this conversation with him, of all people, and you were almost certain there was something in your drinks that had made you say what you did. 

His velvety laugh echoed through your dorm, and you wanted nothing more than to fold in on yourself. This had to have been the worst moment of your life. 

“I guess you don’t remember, huh?” There was an amused lilt to his tone that made you want to jump out of the window. “I can refresh you, if you’d like.”

“NO!” 

The shriek that left you was nothing short of abashed. He leaned forward now, smirking at you conspiratorially. “What's wrong? I thought you needed,” he paused, as if recollecting the exact words you had said to humiliate you even further. “Hands-on learning?”

You pointed to the door, biting back a scream. “Get out.”

The smirk only grew. “Aw, but if sleeping with me is gonna help you write again–”

“OUT!” You glared, cheeks flaming. Your anxiety had prepared you for at least a hundred outright ridiculous situations that had no chance of ever occurring, but none of them accounted for the possibility of your best friend talking about sleeping with you. You couldn’t fathom how he seemed so unaffected by it, as if he were speaking about something as mundane as the damn weather.

Caleb tongued his cheek, evidently fighting off another bout of laughter. He raised his hands to his sides in a placating gesture, but it did nothing to soothe your frazzled nerves. If anything, it only distracted you further, your eyes betraying you and straying to glance at his hands. A suppressed memory from last night resurfaced in your mind's eye, much to your displeasure. 

You have very nice hands. They’re hot.

That was it. You were never going to touch alcohol again. Sobriety was your way of life now, seeing that you couldn’t keep your mouth shut when under the influence. The next time you need to let off some steam, you’d have an iced coffee.

“Alright, alright, I’ll go.” He moved towards your door, hiding his teasing smile behind his fist, disguising his chuckle with an exaggerated cough. “But Y/n?”

He didn’t use his beloved pet name. You straightened slightly, momentarily pushing away your embarrassment at the sudden serious shift of his voice. He opened the door and paused, hesitating for a single second. Then, he looked back at you, all-consuming, violent eyes locking onto yours. 

“I would do it if you asked.” 

You sighed heavily as you walked out of your last class of the day, rubbing the back of your neck and peering up into the darkening sky. Thursdays were the one day of the week when you had longer classes one after the other, which always resulted in you feeling exhausted by the end of it. You barely had the energy to even think about putting together dinner, which your best friend knew, always swinging by once your class ended with enough take-out for both of you and to walk you back to your dorm. 

Which meant…

“I hope you’re in the mood for Thai food.”

Caleb slid into your view with that easy-going smile of his, though lately and much to your annoyance, there seemed to be a knowing glint in his gaze every time it settled on you. 

“I’m in the mood for anything edible.” You sighed as you began walking back to your dorm. He easily fell into step beside you, as always, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. You supposed it was, considering how long your friendship had lasted. It would be almost twelve years soon, and honestly, you could hardly remember a time when he wasn’t around. 

He hummed, knowing how cranky you got when you were hangry. “So easy to please.” It was the way he said it, knowing and with a tone so low that it almost resembled a purr. It had goosebumps rising on the surface of your skin. A little outraged at the way you reacted, you glanced over at him, only to find him already looking at you.

It was how he always looked at you, with conviction and every ounce of his attention. Yet, it felt different, more intense. Or maybe that was just your brain playing tricks on itself. 

I would do it if you asked.

Those seven words had haunted you from the moment he had spoken them. The serious expression on his face mixed with the quiet way he had said it– it had undoubtedly fucked you up a little more than you would have liked to admit. You were beyond infuriated and in complete disbelief over how he had simply offered to sleep with you. Like it wasn’t a big deal or a very major, clear boundary that existed in friendships. In your friendship. 

If you asked. Like it was that fucking simple. He left your dorm since you demanded it of him, but left you to deal with the aftermath of that absolutely criminal statement of his. 

And then there was the teasing. 

Relentless and unsteadying. Caleb would say something a little too suggestive or downright sexual before retreating and pretending like nothing had happened. He’d hold your gaze a little longer, or let his touch linger, before looking away with a satisfied smirk. He knew damn well what he was doing, and although you did too, it didn’t stop you from flushing or freezing up. It certainly didn’t stop scenarios from writing themselves in your head. 

He was torturing you for your little slip-up. He found it hilarious, and now you were the punchline for every joke that blossomed from it. 

He cocked his head to the side now, a small, tilted smile on his lips as he spoke. “What's going on in at head of yours?”

You realised you had stopped walking, and so had he, instead standing right in front of you and occupying every part of your vision. “Nothing.”

Caleb quirked an eyebrow, taking a step closer. “You sure about that? You’re obviously thinking about something.” The cadence of his voice had always been nice, but now the velvety smoothness of it put you on edge in more ways than one. “Are you maybe thinking about–”

“I am not thinking about that.” The statement tumbled out of you before you could bite your tongue. His eyes lit up mischievously.

“Oh, so you’re thinking about something after all, are you?”

Your mouth opened and closed like a fish, struggling to findd to find a comeback to that. Somehow, he was even closer now. 

“Mind telling me what exactly that is?”

“Stop it,” You almost snarled, shooting him a withering look as you pushed him away in order to reclaim your personal space. This teasing streak of his was getting unbearable, especially since it was anything but innocent and was driving you up the wall. “Or I’m gonna take the Thai food and leave you with nothing.”

An offended gasp. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would.” 

He laughed at your threat and finally let up on you, going back to being the Caleb you knew. He spoke of his classes and the group project he had due at the end of the week, for which he had terrible teammates to work with. It was jarring, how easily he could shift back into acting like he hadn’t just insinuated something so….

Maybe it was just your dirty mind. 

Unbeknownst to you, it definitely wasn’t just your dirty mind. Caleb was mentally punching himself. 

Caleb had had years of practising self-control when it came to you. Years of holding back and hiding the feelings he had for his best friend, shying away from every opportunity to divulge them. He knew how to keep his hands to himself, his mind from straying and his tongue from running into dangerous territory. He hadn’t meant to do it, but your drunken confession had flipped a switch inside of him. The lines had gotten a little blurry, but he would never, in a million years, ever actually cross them.

So what the hell was wrong with him? 

You still hadn’t written a word. Unfortunately for you, you couldn’t even complain about it in peace anymore. Not if you wanted to maintain even a modicum of your sanity.

The reason for said dwindling sanity was sitting beside you right now on his bed, his arm slung around your shoulder, fingers tracing abstract patterns on the top of your shoulder. Usually, this would have calmed you down and even made you sleepy, but it achieved the complete opposite right then. You were painfully awake, his feathery touch like electricity against your skin. 

God, you were so fucked. You had hoped that Caleb’s incessant teasing would have put a damper on your sudden, strong attraction towards him, but nothing of the sort had happened. It seemed to have only gotten worse, with you ending up being jumpy whenever he was around, and considering the amount you hung out with him, you were starting to resemble a kangaroo.

Around him, you were constantly tense and always on the precipice of being turned on. To say it was hellish would be an understatement.

“You’re distracted,” he murmured as the credits of the movie you were watching played. Finally, the two of you had managed to find the time to have that movie night you had passed on weeks ago. You shook your head, glancing up at the clock that hung on his wall. It was a little past midnight. 

“Just frustrated,” you said finally, because it was the truth in more ways than one. Your frustration with your writing, or lack of, ran deep, but now it was intertwined with another very persistent reason. Being sexually frustrated wasn’t something you were used to dealing with.

He seemed to have caught on, though, his hand falling from your shoulder to your waist, curling around it. “Why are you frustrated, Pipsqueak?” He drawled, turning his head so that he faced you now. Of course, he’d pick this moment to torment you, when you were already frazzled.

“No reason,” you said quickly, voice clipped. A slow, languid smile stretched out on his lips. 

“No?” He asked, the side of his mouth tilting. “Could it be….”

“Stop talking.” You despised how hoarse your voice sounded. You wanted– no, needed him to stop doing this before it became unbearable. He was your best friend, for fucks sake. The smile on his annoyingly perfect face melted into a smirk that would have had your knees weak if you weren’t already sitting down. 

“I don’t think I will.” He whispered, pulling you even closer as he dipped his head down until his lips brushed against your ear. It was like he wanted you to break, and god, you were so close to doing so. His hand slid up your waist just a little bit. A shiver ran through you, one you couldn’t have suppressed if you tried. 

“Tell me,” He mumbled, the words sounding much too loud even though he was still whispering. “Do your frustrations have anything to do with a certain sex scene you’re trying to write?”

You inhaled sharply.

Rationality was a funny thing. Every bit of it seemed to disappear whenever you truly needed it. Things you had no business thinking rushed through your head, courtesy of your bright imagination that chose the most inconvenient moments to work. Thoughts you had suppressed and pushed aside every time they had the nerve to pop up swirled around.

The spark that you had been trying so hard to put out crackled to life in your core, its flames spreading all across your body like wildfire. You were painfully aware of every part of you that was in contact with him, his hand just above your waist, sitting there so possessively, his breath fanning across your neck– fuck. It was too much, but somehow not enough all at once, and immediately you knew what you wanted.

More.

You snapped. 

Something possessed you as you turned to look at him, a surge of confidence appearing out of nowhere as you drew closer to him. “Yeah.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Right then and there, three things became very clear to you. One: You wanted to write. Desperately and preferably sometime soon, because you did want to finish the first draft before you could go in and edit. Two: For some reason, you needed to have sex in order to get over the mental block you had when it came to writing it. Lastly, three: You only wanted to have sex with one person, and it was the man right beside you.

“My frustration has everything to do with the sex scene.” You said, surprising yourself with how steady your voice was. “But you can help with that, right?” 

Without waiting for his response, you got to your knees, swinging a leg over him and settling down on top. Surprise flickered in his eyes for a second as your hands found his shoulders to maintain your balance, before he spoke again. 

“Pipsqueak,” he started, voice low and careful, attempting to keep the teasing lilt in his voice but royally failing. “What– exactly– are you doing?”

“You told me to ask.” You muttered, dropping your gaze to his lips for a moment before letting it travel back up. “You said you’d do it if I asked. I’m asking right now.” 

Caleb couldn’t respond, still staring up at you, eyes wide and ears a little redder than they normally were. Good. It was about time he had a taste of his own medicine. His hands found your waist again, and he blinked twice, slowly, and you prayed he wasn’t all bark and no bite. 

You wanted him to bite.

“Y/n,” he muttered, “I….I know what I said.”

You raised an eyebrow, your hands slipping up his shoulders simultaneously until they were cradling his neck, playing with his hair at the nape of it. Was he shy? Now? After everything he had said and insinuated, he had the audacity to be all bashful? “So then you know what I’m asking for.”

“Well–”

“Caleb,” You cut him off, shifting so that you were closer. “I’m asking.” 

Conviction laced those words. You could tell he was reasoning with himself, god knows you could read him well enough to know when he was conflicted, when he bit the inside of his cheek before exhaling shakily. 

“Pips,” He rasped out your nickname. “You– you’re sure?”

You didn’t recognise the look in his eyes right then as he looked up at you, but it had you unravelling all the same. You leaned in subconsciously, but he quickly moved one of his hands from your waist to your mouth, covering it as his jaw clenched, still studying you. “I need you to tell me you’re sure, Y/n.”

Oh, so this was actually happening. You could feel the heat of your breath recoil against your face because of his hand. The ticking of the clock in his room filled the charged silence between him and you, his fingers brushing against your chapped lips. You swallowed.

“I’m sure.”

Whatever had shifted in you five minutes ago seemed to shift in him as well now. He let his hand drop from your mouth, shamelessly staring at it. “We shouldn’t.” But he pulled you closer, his arms circling your waist and palms splayed out on the small of your back. 

“It’s for research purposes,” You breathed out, doing your best to justify how badly you needed him. “Please, Caleb, I need–”

He didn’t let you finish. 

You gasped as he crushed his mouth to yours, effectively shutting you up. The pressure of his lips against your own was dizzying, especially with the way they moved; slowly and precisely, as if he was committing the feel of your lips to his memory. You were hyperaware of his touch on your back, the warmth from his hands permeating through the thin fabric of the T-shirt you were wearing.

Pulling him closer, you tilted your head so you could kiss him better. For the number of times you had mentally chided yourself for even thinking about this, it felt remarkably natural to kiss him, your instincts taking over. Your fingers slipped into his hair, entangling in the dark strands and tugging lightly.

Caleb groaned, and you were on fire. 

“God, Y/n.” There was nothing playful about the way he mumbled your name into the kiss, and the unfamiliarity of it sent a shiver down your spine. His lips, soft and just a little hesitant, moved in tandem against your own, slotting in between them perfectly like you were pieces of the same puzzle, meant to be pushed together like so. He nipped at your lower lip before swiping his tongue over it to soothe the sting, and the intoxicating sensation drew out a needy whimper from you. 

The second that sound escaped you, all indecision disappeared from his end, and the temperature in the room seemed to increase, growing hotter with every smack of his lips against yours. Kissing him was addictive, it felt as if neither of you could bear to pull away from each other. 

Without warning, Caleb lifted you off of him and pressed you into the mattress, swiftly climbing on top of you. For a moment, he hovered, looking down at you, taking in the flush on your cheeks and heavy breathing, proud to have been the cause of your breathlessness despite barely doing a thing. Going in once again, he brushed his lips against yours teasingly, before giving you what you truly wanted, the intensity of the kiss taking a turn for feverish.

A hand of his slid up your side until he cupped your jaw oh-so gently, turning your face to the side to give him better access to your neck, upon which he pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses that had heat rush right to your core. The ache between your legs grew, slowly becoming unbearable, and you rubbed your thighs together with a whine, chasing any sliver of friction. 

“Shit,” he muttered against you, his other hand slipping underneath your shirt and coming into contact with your stomach, causing goosebumps to rise on the skin. Spreading his fingers and pressing lightly, he kept you from squirming. “Pips, you gotta tell me to stop.”

“Don’t you dare,” you almost snapped at him, impatient and so painfully aroused it was embarrassing. He couldn’t hold back the breathless chuckle that escaped him as he moved lower, teeth grazing your collarbone. 

“If, at any point, you want to stop, tell me,” he gritted out, trying to hold onto any semblance of self-control he still possessed. “I don’t wanna do anything you’re uncomfortable with.”

You nodded quickly. “I trust you.”

That was all he needed. Lifting his head slightly, he fumbled with the buttons of your shorts as he leaned back, all his weight on his knees. Once he managed to undo them, you lifted your hips slightly to help him tug them off your body. He settled between your legs, spreading them until the pretty cotton panties you wore were exposed. 

Caleb swallowed, his breathing growing erratic and heavy. The wet patch on your panties was his undoing; everything about this situation was bound to be the death of him, but he was too far gone now. He let his hand trace up to your hips, hooking his finger through the waistband of your panties, toying with it.

“Is this ok?” The column of his throat bobbed as he stared up at you from between your legs. When you whispered a needy yes, he pulled the panties down your legs, his eyes darkening the moment they settled back on your core. 

“Y/n,” He said your name like he was drunk, a certain sense of reverence infused in his tone that had your cheeks kissed rouge. “You’re even prettier than I thought.”

Than he thought? You would have to take the time to dissect that statement later, much too distracted to do so at the moment when he began peppering kisses along your inner thigh, starting from your knee and working his way upwards. The sensation of his mouth tantalisingly close to where you wanted it so badly was almost too much. Just the sight of him there was so erotic that it had your head swimming. You had never felt more vulnerable than you did right then, exposed and willing.

And then finally– finally– his breath fanned out over your soaked cunt, driving you insane. Liquid fire thrummed in your veins beneath the surface of your skin as your anticipation spilled over. He pressed a light, teasing kiss against your clit. 

Caleb dragged his tongue over your slit, licking up it all the way to your clit, which he wrapped his lips around and sucked, knocking all the air out of your lungs. You gasped, bucking your hips up against him, and he chuckled, the sound sending vibrations up your body, from your toes to the top of your head.

“Impatient,” he chided. “Let me take my time with you, princess.”

The new pet name sounded so natural coming from him, and immediately, you knew you wanted to hear him call you that again. He flicked his tongue against the throbbing bud that had been aching for his attention this entire time, positioning your legs to rest over his shoulders. The sounds that left you were shamefully loud, and you had never been more grateful that he lived in a single dorm. 

“Cal- oh fuck,” You mewled when he swiped two of his fingers through your wetness, rubbing your folds. 

“You’re so fucking wet,” he all but groaned against you, and you could feel more slick gush out of you at that. “Is this all for me?” 

Your back arched off the bed when he pressed a finger to your dripping entrance, nodding with a sense of desperation you had never experienced before. “Yes,” you exhaled the word as he pushed his finger inside your pussy slowly, your jaw falling open at the pleasurable intrusion. 

Slowly, he began pumping it in and out of you as he continued to give your clit the sweet attention it deserved, basking in the noises that you made. The pads of the fingers of his other hand dug into the flesh of your thigh, keeping you nice and spread out despite all your attempts to shut your legs around him. 

When he introduced a second figure to your cunt, your hands found purchace in his hair, gripping and tugging as you panted, unable to focus on anything else. Your eyes fluttered shut as the tips of his fingers brushed against a spot that had you seeing stars, crooking inside you so perfectly. It was as if he knew exactly how to push you to the edge.

Your best friend was eating you out like a starved man and you were enjoying every fucking second of it. He could feel your legs begin to tremble, your impending orgasm building. Shamelessly, you bucked your hips against his face, and the moment he realised what you were doing, he increased the pace of his fingers.

“Come on baby,” he encouraged you, flattening his tongue against your clit and pulling you closer, spurring you on even further. You ground against his mouth desperately, feeling the coil in your core draw tight, so, so close.

“Caleb,” you stuttered his name helplessly, but he somehow understood, knowing just what you needed. “I–I’m gonna–”

He scissored his fingers inside of you, hooking them just right as he gave your clit little kitten licks, determined to have you fall apart on his tongue. Your sweet gasps sent blood rushing straight to his cock, which was already painfully hard, confined in his jeans. Taking your mound into his mouth, he sucked harshly, thrusting his fingers knuckle deep in your sex. 

A broken moan escaped you when your climax hit you, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as waves of pleasure washed over you. Your legs shook, but he didn’t let up, grinning proudly against you as he drove his fingers back into your gushing entrance, helping you ride out your high and prolonging it. Once he was satisfied, he lapped at you, refusing to waste even a single drop of your essence. 

Caleb pulled away, and the sight of you nearly did him in. Eyes screwed shut in ecstacy and hair fanned out on his pillow, undoubtedly tangled from all your writhing. You looked like the picture of sin, and it was the hottest thing he had ever seen. He climbed back, hovering over you again as he licked his lips.

Your eyes fluttered open, pupils blown out and dark due to the sheer level of desire that coursed through you. You were stunning, and he was destroyed, knowing that he’d never be able to forget the way you were looking at him right then. The way you tasted.

When he kissed you again, it was different. It was a heady mix of heat and tongue and want, messier than the kisses he gave you earlier, the control he had before nowhere to be seen anymore. You could taste yourself on his tongue and moaned, reaching out to touch him. 

You started at his collar, dragging your hands down, down, down until you reached the hem of his shirt, whining against his mouth as you tugged at it. 

“Take it off.”

Who was he to deny you? He stopped kissing you, sitting up so that he could pull the shirt off, exposing his torso for you. The way your eyes raked over him hungrily was more than gratifying, especially when they caught on the silver chain that hung from his neck, the pendant sitting on his chest. Tossing his shirt to the side, he pushed your own up your body, exposing the skin of your stomach. 

“Your turn.”

You let him take off your shirt, tossing it to the side and slipping his hands slip behind your back. He silently asked for your permission, which you gave to him in the form of an impatient nod to which he smirked, unhooking your bra and peeling it off of you, letting the discarded garment join the rest of them on the floor. 

One look at you and he was a goner. 

“Fuck,” he could feel himself straining his jeans as he took in the sight of your breasts, so perfect and plush. He allowed himself a moment to appreciate you in all your naked glory, before leaning back down, his mouth back on your overheated skin. He dragged his tongue down your neck, sucking and biting like there was no tomorrow. 

His lips trailed downwards, kissing the swell of your breast before wrapping around your already hard nipple, stroking his tongue against the aching peak. He palmed the other breast, giving that nipple equal amounts of attention and rolling it under his thumb. You hissed in pleasure, breathless as you arched into his addictive touch.

You could barely think straight; everything he was doing to you sent you into complete overdrive. Every touch was criminally good, the simplest of them causing your arousal to increase tenfold. Perhaps it was because it had been so long since you had last had sex, but you had never before felt so frenzied.

Hooking your legs around his waist, you could feel the outline of him pressing against your thighs. Angling your hips, you pressed your bare pussy against his bulge, the roughness of the denim rubbing you just right. He looked up at you from your chest through hooded eyes, earning another whimper as he pinched your nipple.

“You sound so good.” His words went straight to your head. “Tell me what you want.”

He said it like it was a command, and who were you to disobey, especially when you knew exactly what you wanted? 

“I want you inside me,” you whimpered, voice heated with lust. 

How could he ever refuse you? Caleb gave you one last kiss before reaching over to his bedside table, grabbing something from the drawer and sitting up and unzipping his pants. You couldn’t help but stare as he impatiently kicked off his jeans and boxers, eyes widening when you finally saw his cock. 

Fuck, it was big. Long and painfully hard, you could hardly believe he was hard because of you, but the proof was in front of your very eyes. Your lower lip caught between your teeth as you drank in the sight of him, hyperaware of the wetness that coated your thighs. 

He tore open the condom packet, smoothly sliding it onto himself before settling between your legs once. 

“W-will it even fit?” You squeaked, a spike of fear cutting through the lust-filled haze of your mind. He grabbed one of your hands, bringing it to his lips and pressing your fingers to them, kissing your knuckles soothingly as he bit back a smile. 

“It’ll fit.” 

“But– there's no way,” You spluttered, “It’s gonna hurt.” Not that the prospect of being in a little pain deterred you by any means, you were way too horny to stop now. Complaining was probably the least sexy thing you could have done in the moment, but he seemed unbothered, the dark, hungry glint in his eyes never fading. The amused look on his face, however, was not lost on you, nor was the way he bit the inside of his cheek, fighting a smile. You glared weakly. 

“Are you laughing at me?” You asked, incredulous. “I swear to god, Caleb, you’re going to split me in half, and you’re laughing?”

“Baby,” He breathed, “You’ll be fine.”

“Easy for you to say!”

You wouldn’t even blame him if he decided he was done with you and pulled his pants back on, but nothing of the sort happened. Instead, he gripped your hips, grounding you to the moment. 

Both of you were completely nude, and despite this, you had never felt more comfortable. Not when he looked at you like that, like you were something sacred. 

“Relax, Pips, I’ve got you,” He whispered, sensing your apprehension. You exhaled shakily as he pressed his hard-on against your folds, groaning at just how wet you were. “Eyes on me.”

The way he took control so naturally was alarmingly attractive. You looked up, locking your eyes with his, unable to stay silent when the head of his cock rubbed against your swollen clit. “O-oh.”

He shuddered at the feeling, dropping a little so that he was keeping himself up on his elbows. His necklace swung above you just like you had imagined as he ground against you, but it still wasn’t enough. “Ready?” 

You didn’t think you’d ever be ready, but you wanted it so badly you didn’t even care. Nodding eagerly, you intertwined your fingers with his, letting him press the back of your hands into the mattress. When his tip caught at your entrance, you whined. “Please.” 

Having you beg him like that was dangerous. He squeezed your hands, and then slowly, carefully, sank into your wet heat, inch by devastating inch. Your jaw slackened, loudly moaning his name as he filled you up and stretched you out so pleasurably. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he pushed into you until he bottomed out, going breathless himself. One glance down to where the two of you were connected had him actively having to fight off coming right then and there. 

Caleb was in heaven, and he was fucking delirious. He forced himself to stay still, moaning lowly when he felt your walls flutter around him, adjusting to his size. “You’re doing so well, princess.” He praised, lowering his head to your neck and burying his face in the crook of it, inhaling deeply in an attempt to calm himself down. 

There was so much wrong with this, so why did it feel so right? You felt so perfect, like you were made for him.

“Caleb,” You whimpered once the sting faded, letting go of his hands and looping your arms around his neck, “Move. I need you to move.” 

He pulled out until only his tip remained inside of you, before sheathing himself again, causing you to curve off the bed, nails digging into his skin. He did it again and again, nearly growling when he felt you grow even wetter, coating the length of his cock in your slick. Wet sounds that had your cheeks burning filled the room repeatedly.

“Fuck baby, you’re so tight,” He practically growled, contrasting the tender pace he set, telling you he was holding back for your sake. You could feel every inch of him as he dragged against your walls, reminding you how big he was with every thrust.  

Your friendship was potentially ruined, but it felt too good for you to care. With your legs locked behind his back, you gripped his biceps, a wanton moan escaping you as your eyes fluttered shut, the pleasure overriding every other sensation.  

“So good,” words were hard to put together, and he understood and nodded, holding your hips so tight you were sure there would be marks, just like the marks that blossomed all over your neck and chest from his earlier ministrations. Right now, though, you didn’t care about that, consumed by the waves of euphoria rushing through you.

Slowly, the frequency of his thrusts increased, rendering you completely winded and unable to do anything but gasp for air. You felt another orgasm steadily build up inside you. 

Then he tipped his hips a certain way, the tip of his cock brushing against a spot that made you cry out his name, throwing your head back into his pillows. The look on your face was something he wanted to imprint in his memory; the desire lacing your voice was beyond exhilarating. 

Caleb could feel his own impending high, so tightly wound because of just how long he had waited for something like this. When you clenched around him, he knew you were close as well, but the act nearly did him in.

“Don’t do that.” his voice was all scratchy and strained, but you promptly did it once again, high off the notion that you were affecting him just as much as he was affecting you. His hips stuttered against yours as his violet eyes flashed. “Fucking hell.”

“Oh my god,” you moaned, “I can’t–”

“Look at me,” he demanded, “I want you to look at me when you come all over my cock.”

Never in a million years would you have thought your best friend would be so good at dirty talk, but the shock quickly melted into obedience as you managed to hold his heated gaze. Reaching between the two of you, his index finger found your engorged clit and rubbed circles against it. 

You squealed, overly sensitive. “Shit–I’m gonna– Cal-!”

“Come for me.” 

Caleb would never forget how you looked: at his mercy, crying out his name over and over like it was a prayer as you came, spilling over his cock with a euphoric sob. He snapped his hips to yours with renewed urgency, drawing out your second climax and prolonging the feeling. When he saw the fucked out look on your face, it hit him at once. 

With one final thrust, he buried himself inside you, coming with a moan, burying his face in your neck once again. His body was damp against yours, his hair tickling you as you breathed heavily. He stayed like that for a couple of seconds, recovering from the intensity of what had just happened.

Wordlessly, he pulled out of you gently, the sudden emptiness you felt having you whimper softly. Peeling the condom off, he tossed it in the bin next to his bed before climbing off of you, muttering something about being back. Seconds later, you felt a warm, wet cloth drag over your core. He cleaned you up, pressing little kisses to the inner side of your thighs.

Once he was done, he gathered you in his arms and pulled you close, kissing your temple. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, pulling away just enough so he could try and gauge how you felt, rubbing his thumb over your cheekbone as he cupped your face tenderly. “I didn’t hurt you, right?”

You shook your head and leaned into his touch, completely spent. “No, it was perfect.”

He sighed in relief. You curled into him, and he wrapped his arms around you. “You did so well,” he murmured into your hair, massaging your scalp gently. “You were amazing, actually.” Another kiss to your forehead made you simper as your eyes closed, exhaustion settling into you now that the adrenaline had faded. “Tired?”

“Yeah,” You mumbled. Your legs entangled with his, and he stopped talking, tracing shapes on your back while you drifted off to sleep. He watched you for a bit, savouring the skin-on-skin contact, his mind reeling from what had just happened. 

This was strangely normal, no awkwardness or post-nut clarity hitting either of you. Your body lay against his with all of you pressed up against him like that was exactly where you belonged. He could feel the beating of your heart, strong and steady in your slumber, whereas his remained erratic and fast. This was more than just a taste that he had had of you; it was the entire deal, and the knowledge of it all had his morals scattered and all over the place, because now that he knew what he knew, well.

Caleb wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop.

It was supposed to be a one-time thing.

At the time, you had justified sleeping with Caleb as research, something you needed to do in order to get it out of your system. You had assumed, albeit foolishly, that once it was over, you’d be able to go back to normal and continue with your life.

But research was an activity that required constant revisiting. Most of it had to be repeated over and over, especially if it included gathering data from an experiment. There was always a control, and then variations of the experiment would be conducted to record the differences in the outcomes. 

At least, that was what you were telling yourself right now as you straddled him, his cock buried inside you.

Truthfully, you didn’t know how this had happened. After that day, everything seemed to be normal, until he showed up at your dorm to help you study for a class he had also taken when he was in his sophomore year. One thing led to another, or rather, one heated touch later, you found yourself under him once again.

And then it happened again, and kept happening. Whispers of it being just for research mixed in with both of your moans became a melody you were more than used to. This was all for your book, after all. For the sake of accuracy and your integrity as a writer.

Definitely not because of how mindblowing sex with Caleb was.

And it absolutely was. 

He had made you completely insatiable for him, and almost every time the two of you hung out in one of your dorms, it ended up with both of you in bed. Every other aspect of your friendship remained exactly the same, though, which left you considerably confused. He didn’t look at or treat you any differently, poking fun and driving you up the wall, staying his usual reliable self. 

Caleb’s hand cradled the back of your head as he kissed you now, fingers entangled in your hair and pulling slightly. You moaned softly against his lips, grinding on him.

You were in one of his shirts, panties tugged to the side since he hadn’t had the patience to take them off, needing to be inside of you as quickly as possible. Despite his earlier hurriedness, the pace the two of you settled on now was almost teasing, slowly rocking against him as you lazily chased the delicious high that you had gotten so used to experiencing these past two weeks. 

“You’re so gorgeous,” he muttered, more to himself than you, hand slipping under your shirt and cupping your breast, squeezing. When he caught you biting your lip, he tutted, letting go of your hair and using his thumb to release it from your teeth. “Ah, ah, don’t do that, you’ll hurt yourself, pretty girl.”

“Too good,” you complained in that whiney, desperate tone he had gotten so addicted to. Pinching your nipple for good measure, he smirked up at you when you squealed. 

Caleb quickly learned that he loved having you on top of him. Getting you all to himself like this was a privilege in itself, but fucking you while you wore his shirt? He was on cloud nine. He could feel himself throb in your sweet pussy that welcomed him so eagerly, in turn pulsing around him. 

He cursed under his breath when you started to bounce, eager to get to the finish line with him. He sounded so good when he swore, you’d never understand it, just like how you wouldn’t get how he looked so pretty with a flush decorating his face and sex-mussed hair.

Gripping his shoulders, you tipped your head back, giving him access to your neck. He had taken to marking you up as and when he pleased, new hickeys surprising you every time you glanced in the mirror. Despite his tendency to leave them in places everyone could very easily spot them, you didn’t tell him to stop simply it just felt so good. 

Everything with Caleb felt good, and not only did it feel good, but you felt completely safe. He was so attentive, doing the most to make sure you were never in any pain, often times focusing more on getting you off rather than himself. 

He thrust up into you suddenly, his earlier impatience returning, and you cried out, falling into his chest. He held you, working you through it and dragging you closer and closer to release. One of your hands fell to his torso, tracing the hard lines of his abs and trailing downwards before your fingers found your clit and rubbed.

Shit. If having you ride him was good, being able to watch you touch yourself as you did was unbelievable. When you came, you came hard, and the feeling of it tipped him over the edge. 

You were a dream he never wanted to wake up from.

You didn’t bother moving, clinging to him even tighter like you couldn’t bear to not be touching him in some way as you came down from your high. He smelled like sex, sweat, and that cologne of his that you loved. It was the reason you stole his clothes so much and why you were wearing his shirt even now.

Your first time with Caleb was the getaway drug, and now you were addicted to him, to having his hands caressing you all over and him whispering praises in your ear. 

“Hey there,” He chuckled, rubbing your back. “All good?”

“Great even,” You mumbled, sitting up properly before finally lifting yourself off of him. You failed to register how jelly-like your legs felt, promptly losing your balance. He caught you before you fell, grinning. 

“Can’t walk?” You could hear how smug he was without even having to look at him. It was then that you registered the burn in your thighs and huffed. 

“Don’t sound so proud about it.”

“You’re no fun,” he pouted, leaving you to scoff as he helped you to your feet, following suit. “I’ll help you clean up. Do you wanna watch the new episode after?” 

Ah yes. Of course, he’d start talking about anime after taking away your ability to stand. That had been the reason he had shown up at your dorm in the first place, but the moment he saw you wearing his shirt, it had quickly become an afterthought.  

The whiplash you felt was indescribable, and you could only nod, letting him pick you up and carry you to the bathroom. After a quick shower and change of clothes, the two of you settled down with your laptop like nothing had happened, your head resting on his shoulder as you focused on the show.

Neither of you bothered to talk about your redefined friendship despite having sex regularly. It was just….a new addition. A benefit that you were both taking advantage of, nothing more and nothing less. 

But even as you reminded yourself of that now, you found yourself doubting it.

There was something to be said about formal events. 

You enjoyed getting dolled up as much as the next girl, but that was where the fun ended. Having to sit through the event was boring and not the way you liked to spend your Friday evenings. You would have much preferred staying in and catching up on some much-needed sleep.

The editor of your university’s paper, Jenna, had organised an affair that was being held in one of the college halls. She had worked very hard on it, inviting several alumni who were all successful in the fields of journalism and writing back so that the current batch of students had the chance to make connections. It was open to the entire student body, but she had made it clear that everyone on the paper was obligated to attend. 

Connections were what helped people get further in life. You were grateful for the opportunity to interact with industry professionals, but didn’t understand why she had insisted on keeping it a black tie affair. That probably had something to do with keeping up appearances. 

You stood off to the side, sipping on your cranberry juice from a cup that was made for something much more refined. So far, you had spoken to a couple of the guests, but seeing that you had been here for over an hour already, your social battery was slowly dying out. The dress you wore was a black number, floor length, form-fitting and plain except for the slit that reached up to a little above your knee. Perfect for an event like this, not too much and on power with what everyone else was wearing. 

Still, it was a little overstimulating. You guzzled down the rest of your juice and placed the empty glass down on one of the tables. 

“You’re welcome, by the way.”

You spun on your heels immediately at that voice, eyes widening and settling on the culprit who stood two, maybe three steps away from you. 

“Caleb?” You asked in disbelief, taking in his presence. He was wearing a suit.

“The one and only,” he grinned, his hands stuffed in his pockets. “Here to rescue you from your boredom.”

“What are you even doing here?” To say this wasn’t his scene would be an understatement. He didn’t like wearing the whole suit getup, much preferring casual clothing. Hell, Caleb hadn’t even attended his high school prom (though when you asked why, he would never give you a straight answer), opting to spend the night in with you instead. 

He looked unfairly good. The collar of his shirt hid those lovely collarbones of his and reminded you of how you had bit down on them the other day, the bottom of it tucked into black slacks. He had even worn dress shoes, instead of the sneakers he so loved and a tie around his neck. The entire getup.

“I literally just told you why. To get you out of here. Are you hard of hearing now?”

You returned his jibe with an exasperated sound. “I meant here, at this thing.”

“Oh. Well, you did mention it was open to anyone yesterday,” he shrugged, grabbing a glass of juice and sipping on it. “So that editor of yours technically can’t complain about me being here.” 

That was true. Still, you found yourself bewildered as you stared at him. He was here. For some reason, even though he was allowed to be here, it didn’t make sense to you. You pressed your lips together and cocked your head to the side, studying him. 

“So you dressed up and came here.…only to convince me to leave?” The notion sounded strange even to you. Why on earth would he do that? He finished up his drink and put it down next to your empty glass, taking a step closer to you. The simple movement had butterflies erupt in the pits of your stomach.

What the hell?

“Stop thinking so much. Do you want to stay?”

You considered it. “Not really, no.”

“Do you enjoy arguing with me for no reason, woman?” he muttered dryly under his breath, his eyes catching on something over your head. “On second thought, I think you should stay a little longer.”

Now you were just plain confused. One moment he was talking about saving you from boredom, and the next he was insisting you stay? Before you could undoubtedly start another argument just to spite him, he took you by your shoulders and spun you around, pointing in a certain direction. When you figured out what, or rather, who he was gesturing to, you couldn’t hide your gasp. 

“Isn’t that the author you like?”

You could only nod dumbly. “Raymond.” Last year, you had a phase where you only read his books day in and day out, absorbing the stories he spun like a sponge. His books were the reason you had decided to start writing your own in the first place, inspired by his storytelling skills. 

Caleb nudged your side gently, “Go.”

“How–” you cut yourself off, looking up at him. “How do you even remember that?” You weren’t sure why this entire interaction with him was throwing you off so much, but you felt completely unbalanced. You hadn’t spoken about Raymond or his work in a long time, so how did he know?  He shrugged noncommittally. 

“I know you.” He said it so plainly, like it was something trivial and basic, but his eyes bored into yours. 

Had Caleb always looked at you with such quiet intensity?

He nudged your side gently, reminding you to move. Forcing yourself out of your stupor, you promised him you wouldn’t take too much time and walked over, buzzing with excitement.

The conversation itself wasn’t long, but it was insightful. He answered all your questions about the industry, and you even had the chance to share for appreciation for Raymond's work as well as ask him questions that you had about his novels. You gave him your utmost attention when he gave you advice, but when he started talking about his characters, your eyes and mind wandered.

Back to your best friend, who was waiting for you on the other end of the hall, leaning against one of the walls and scrolling through his phone. He didn’t give a flying fuck about this event, but had still come here for your sake, even when you hadn’t asked him to. He glanced up, his eyes meeting yours, and flashing you a small smile.

Oh.

You looked away and back at Raymond, nodding politely and tuning yourself back into the conversation. Internally, however, you were freaking out. Something was very wrong; that was the only reason you could conjure up at the moment for what was happening to you. How else could you explain the sudden sweatiness of your palms, or the odd, fluttery feeling in your stomach? Maybe it was the excitement you felt from meeting the author you loved so much, but even as you considered this possibility, you knew it wasn’t the answer you were looking for.

Oh.

Oh fuck.

This could not be happening. You plastered a smile on your face as you tried to pay attention to whatever Raymond was talking about, but the damage was done. Your brain had never been one to let go of a single thought you had, especially ones that had to do with Caleb. He had a hold on you that no one else did, and why was that?

Because you liked Caleb.

The horrifying realisation hit you, startling you out of your rapidly spiralling thought process. Blinking, you realised Raymond was done speaking. 

“Thank you so much for your time,” You said, trying not to sound as troubled as you felt. The author smiled at you before turning to another student. 

Swallowing the newfound lump in your throat, you turned around and walked back to Caleb. This was bad. Having sex with him was already vaguely immoral and probably something that shouldn’t have happened– and shouldn’t keep happening like it did– but having feelings for him? That was out of the question.

“Good talk?” He asked, slipping his phone into his pocket. The genuine interest he had in your excitement made the entire situation worse. Why were you noticing all this now, of all times? It wasn’t like he had suddenly turned into someone considerate. He had always been this way; it was written into his DNA. 

You realised he had even tried to tame his hair for today. “It was great.”

“I’m glad. Now I can steal you away from this place.” His eyes were lit up with mischief, just like they did when the two of you were younger and he did something he wasn’t supposed to. Ever the rebel, this one. 

You felt a little guilty. All this effort for you? It seemed completely useless. “Okay, but Caleb, seriously, you didn’t have to do this.” 

He frowned. “Didn’t have to do what?”

“This!” You waved in his general direction and then gestured around. “I mean, you don’t even like wearing a suit, but here you are. It’s not like it's compulsory for you like it is for me. You could be doing anything else.” You were rambling, you knew, but it was hard to stop. He rolled his eyes. 

“Has that stopped me before?”

You paused. “What do you mean?”

“I show up to your newsroom even though I’m sure Jenna wants to castrate me for breaking the rules so much.” He raised an eyebrow. “I attended that lecture of yours when you had a presentation. You know I’m here because I want to be.” You knew he said stuff like this all the time, you always were the recipient of his support. This was normal.

But it didn’t feel normal. For fucks sake, this was the boy you had grown up with. He had seen you fall off your bike, fail tests and puke your guts out when drunk. In each of those situations, he had also been the one to pick you up and bandage your wounds, help you study and hold your hair back for you. 

Did he think it was an obligation now? 

“You….you shouldn’t feel like you have to do that.” You said slowly, but he didn’t let you continue.

“Oh, please. Everyone knows that where you go, I go too.” He flicked your forehead, immediately receiving a glare in return. “We’re like…….” He stopped for a moment, eyebrows furrowing and lips pursing like they always did when he was thinking hard about something. Then he snapped his fingers. “We’re like those yoghurt-granola snack packs!”

You stared at him blankly. “What?”

“You know.” He decided to explain his stupid analogy, as if your head wasn’t muddled enough. “Those things you can buy at the grocery store. The small yoghurt tubs that have a container filled with granola on top of them? Like, they’re both okay separately, but much better when together. People buy those packs for a reason.” He slipped his phone back into his pockets and beamed at you. “We’re like that.”

Oh my god. That barely made any sense. You weren’t sure if you were mortified because of that terrible explanation or because it hadn’t put a damper on your newfound feelings for him. “You’re such a fucking dork.”

He feigned offence, holding his hand over his heart. “Excuse me? You mean cute, right?”

Right. Wait, no, you didn’t. Ugh. “I think you’re ridiculous.”

“Are you coming with me or not, Pips?”

“But Jenna insisted-”

He rubbed a hand over his face in annoyance before fixing you with a droll look. “Would you rather be here or be with me?”

Be with you. 

You ignored the way your stomach flipped. You didn’t have the time or the mental stability to process everything that was happening to you right now. The logical part of your brain swooped in, telling you that you were just confused because of the sex. Yes, that was it. You did not have feelings for Caleb Xia.

Sighing, you relented. “You.” Saying that didn’t mean anything, after all. Nothing about the two of you meant anything, so there was no reason for you to be freaking out, even if it sounded like you had just confessed. A wide grin made a show on his face when he realised he had won, and he tilted his head towards the exit.

“Finally. Wanna get out of here?”

“Just to be clear, this is not what I meant when I asked if you wanted to get out of there.”

You huffed out a soft laugh, fingers curling around his tie as you tugged him closer. “No? Could have sworn you planned for us to end up in a janitor's closet.”

Caleb bit back a laugh of his own, knowing that making too much noise would get both of you in trouble. After leaving the event, somehow, his guiding hand on your hip had turned into the two of you making out in the hallway. You blamed the mess that your head was in for not realising what a bad idea that was immediately, but once you did, you did the most responsible thing you could think of.

And dragged him into the janitor's closet that was close by.

Naturally.

He braced a hand over your head on the cabinet that you were leaning against, essentially caging you in as he dipped his head to kiss you again. “Pretty sure that was you’re doing.”

“Excuse me? You’re the one who kissed me first!” You protested against his mouth, but could hardly complain when he kissed you like it was a relief to do so. Honestly, he was probably the best kisser you had ever experienced.

That must have been the reason for your spiralling thoughts. That and the amazing sex that you were so weak to. 

Yep. That’s all. Anyone could be susceptible to such things.

“Can you blame me? Have you seen yourself in this dress?” His free hand slipped into the slit at your knee, slowly dragging the rest of the dress up until it was bunched up around your waist. “You’re stunning.”

He couldn’t stop kissing you. He knew he shouldn’t have kissed you out there like he had the right to, because he was well aware of the unspoken rules of this arrangement, but he couldn’t help it. If getting too comfortable with whatever you had going on with him was a crime, a sin, then he was a criminal of the highest order. The worst part? He didn’t feel a shred of guilt.

But you were wearing that fucking cherry lip gloss, and god knnows he had waited long enough to taste it.

Warmth spread over your chest first before it rushed to the apex between your legs. The control he seemed to have over your body was truly astounding. In his hands, you were putty. 

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” You whispered back, loosening the knot of his tie and pulling it off completely, dropping it to the side. “This suits you.”

His lips twitched. “The suit suits me?”

“Shut up and kiss me, loser.”

He complied, grinning against your mouth as he pulled you into another earth-shattering kiss that did positively nothing to soothe your frayed nerves. Stubbornly, you pushed down the feelings bubbling around the confines of your heart, refusing to give them any attention if you could help it. 

You gripped the front of his suit jacket, helping him peel it off his shoulders and letting it join his tie on the floor. Without warning, he pressed a knee in between your legs, and you nearly melted against him. 

Sex was great. Sex with him was phenomenal. This was just the lust getting to you. 

Caleb gripped the leg that your slit now exposed and lifted it, propping it up against his waist. He trailed his fingers against your inner thigh, his touch feather-light yet scorching at the same time. When his index and middle finger pressed against your clothed cunt, you were glad for the hot he had on you, pressed up against the cabinet, because you would have surely buckled if not. 

“Wow,” he mumbled amusedly, pushing your panties to the side and teasing your wetness. “You really like the suit, huh?”

The fact that this type of interaction was now commonplace should have been the first sign that things had gone too far. 

Usually, you couldn’t think straight when he touched you like this, but today it was all a mix of feeling way too much and dangerous, fleeting thoughts that made you want to tear your hair out. 

“Maybe,” You peppered kisses along the column of his throat, determined to get out of your head and focus only on how good he could make you feel. Pleasure and person were entirely separate entities, and you would make sure it stayed that way.

“Suit kink.”

“Never say that again.” 

He only smirked, plunging his fingers into you. All you could do was cry out as you gripped the front of his shirt, momentarily forgetting that you were supposed to be quiet. Quickly, his palm covered your mouth, muffling any further sounds you could make. “Can’t have you being loud here, princess. What if someone catches us?”

The way you practically gushed the moment he suggested someone catch you in such a compromising position was downright embarrassing. Raising an eyebrow, he leaned even lower and whispered. “Oh? You like that?”

You whined against his hand, cheeks flushing furiously. You began fiddling with the top buttons of his shirt, and he chuckled lowly. 

“For someone who likes my suit so much, you sure are trying to get rid of it quickly.” 

“For someone who was dying to kiss me two minutes ago, you talk too much.” You rocked your hips against his hand even as you sassed him back. He moved his hand from your mouth into your hair, carding it through gently, tugging slightly to tilt your head back for him so he could kiss you again, swallowing every sound you made. 

No one could sue you for being attracted to a hot man. That was just biology.

You could feel the familiar tightening of your core, signalling your impending crash. You broke away from the kiss, licked your lips and palmed him over his pants, earning a hiss of pleasure in return. 

“Don’t– don’t do that,” He choked out, and you smirked triumphantly, refusing to relent on your movements. Batting your eyelashes, you stared up at him through them in faux innocence, unaware that it affected him so much more than you thought. 

“Just fuck me already.” You whined, half out of desperation for him and party because now you needed him to fuck you to prove to yourself that this was just sex. To be able to brush away all the compliments he dropped that seemed to go straight to your head, to get the intoxicaing fucking way he kissed you out of your head and away from further dissection. To stop the slow-burning feeling of yearning that was growing inside of you for the boy you had grown up with.

Because you couldn’t possibly have feelings for him. You shouldn’t.

“Fuck, okay,” He slipped his fingers out of you and unbuttoned his pants, releasing his cock. You would never get used to the sight of it, precum already leaking out of the tip; the image itself sending shivers down your spine in anticipation of him. 

He pressed back against you, grinding it against your fluttering pussy, going right back to making out with you. It was like he was devouring you whole, claiming every part of you like it had always belonged to him. You could feel yourself get carried away again, forgetting that this was just something he and you did now. 

And then he froze. 

“Shit,” he muttered. “I don’t have a condom.” 

You were too far gone to even care anymore. Cupping his face, you pulled him into another messy kiss, beyond delighted when he moaned, still rubbing his length through your slick folds with a want that rivalled your own. “Put it in.”

Caleb gritted his teeth. “Pips, thats–”

“I’m on birth control,” you kissed his jaw. “And I trust you. I’ve always trusted you.”

That was undeniably the truth. He was the one person in the world that you didn’t have to think twice about when it came to anything, no matter what the situation. He blinked down at you, pupils blown wide with desire but somehow still so focused on you, holding your sides so gently as he hesitated, silently dealing with the conflict in his head. 

“I…..are you sure?”

Oh, this sweet, considerate boy. How could you not love him? The thought was instantly forced to be a passing one as you push it away, refusing to acknowledge it. 

“Caleb, if you don’t stick your dick inside of me right now, I will cut it off.” The threat earned you a winded chuckle from his end, the strain in his face from holding back so painfully evident. Realising he needed another push, you looked into his eyes, bucking your hips against him and licking your lips as you purred. “Now, fuck me.”

There was a reason you phrased it like that. Crude and so filthy, the words set out a challenge for him. If there was one thing you knew about Caleb, it was that he could never back down from a challenge. His eyes darkened as he grabbed both your wrists and pinned them together above your head with one hand, positioning his cock at your entrance.

Without another warning, he slammed into you, once again covering your mouth to soften the obscenely loud broken moan that left you. He pressed his fingers against your lips, smirking mischievously. 

“This is what you wanted, hmm?” He groaned in your ear as he fucked you hard, making it increasingly difficult for you to stay silent. You knew he was doing it on purpose, remembering how he had briefly confessed that he liked it when you were vocal, but here? Here it was risky and stupid, and you couldn’t believe how into it you were.

“Yes,” You gasped, biting his hand at a particularly hard thrust, doing your utmost best to keep all your noises to a minimum. He was just so good, and the feeling of him bare inside of you was almost too much for you. 

“God baby, you feel incredible,” he panted, never relenting on his pace for even a second. His breathing was heavy in your ear, almost pained, along with soft grunts that only succeeded in making you even wetter.

“So b-big,” you could only whimper, too caught up in it all to speak properly. 

He had well and truly ruined you for anyone else. Your heart and mind were at war with each other, but your body was perfectly content with how he held you like this. With nothing between you, he fucked you raw, and it felt so much more intimate than you thought it would have. You could feel everything, hyperaware of every touch and kiss and overwhelming drag of his cock in your sobbing cunt. 

For a moment, you almost wished it wasn’t this good. If only you had never succumbed to your desires that day, maybe you wouldn’t have found yourself in this position, fighting so desperately against feelings that felt so wrong and right at the same time. All this was supposed to have been a temporary fix, a means to an end. Not the start of something you could never see through. 

When both of you came, it was intense and devastating, holding onto each other like nothing else mattered. You could feel him fill you up with his cum and as you went limp, one last terrifying realisation making itself known to you. 

It wasn’t just sex. 

A shattered breath escaped you at the revelation, and you shut your eyes, trying to reason with yourself one last time, but to no avail. Caleb surrounded you completely, holding you up upright with so much care, so deliberately, that it made total sense why you felt this way. With unending affection, he pulled you against him and kissed the crown of your head. 

“Thats my girl.”

Except you weren’t. And it would be better for everyone if you remembered that.

You were writing. 

It had been so long since you had been able to write like this, but the ability had come rushing back to you all of a sudden. Your fingers flew across your keyboard as you steadily typed, focused and satisfied at the work you were producing for the first time in months.

It was two in the morning when you finally snapped out of your concentrated state, yawning as you shut your laptop. Stretching, you quietly padded to your bathroom to get ready for the night and go to bed. You couldn’t believe you had written almost half of the sex scene when even the prospect of starting it had sounded so unachievable not too long ago. 

Courtesy of Caleb, you had plenty of material to pull from.

You splashed water on your face, hoping the cool temperature of it would help you stop thinking about him. To say you were frustrated with your feelings was an understatement; you outright despised them. 

This was your fault, you knew damn well it was. If you were going to get a fuckbuddy, it should have been someone who you weren’t so close to, someone you had no personal connections with. Anyone but the best friend you've had since you were seven years old, who you knew like the back of your hand, who knew you like it was second nature to do so.

Gripping the sides of the sink, you shut your eyes, grounding yourself to the moment. Part of you wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all. How on earth did you let yourself get in such a predicament?

You needed it to stop. For these confusing feelings to leave before things got even more complicated than they already were. Somehow, you needed to forget about them.

But how could you possibly do that? How were you supposed to forget the deliberate way he kissed you, or how good he made you feel when he looked at you that way? How were you supposed to get the scent of his cologne out of your sheets and closet, or pretend like you didn’t know what it was like to be touched by him? 

How on earth were you supposed to get over being in love with him?

You didn’t even notice him walking in. 

Writing for your book again meant that you had fallen behind quite a bit when it came to the work you had due for the paper. As a result, you had to stay behind and work late on the articles you had to present to Jenna, stuck at your desk in the newsroom when it was almost nine-thirty at night.

“Thought I’d find you here.” 

Your eyes flickered up to find Caleb standing in front of your desk, one hand stuffed in his pockets and the other holding a bag of takeout from a diner that both of you liked. He gave you a soft, knowing smile that made your mouth go dry. 

“Hey,” you straightened up in your seat, knowing that your posture tended to get worse the longer you wrote for. “You were looking for me?”

“Not exactly.” He grabbed a chair and parked it next to yours, sitting down. “I just figured you’d be working and forget to have dinner.”

“Oh.”

He was right, and you would have been embarrassed if this hadn’t happened before. Wordlessly, he began unpacking the takeout he had gotten. “Take a break for ten minutes and eat, okay?” 

This was just like him. Knowing exactly when you needed to be taken care of while being well aware you could do just fine by yourself. You bit the inside of your cheek as you watched him, apprehensively nodding slowly. 

“Okay.”

You grabbed a fry and began to chew, turning to face him and away from the computer. He looked the same as always, unkempt hair and all. It was like he knew you were tired and a little out of it today without you even having to tell him, falling into a comfortable silence as he ate with you. 

There wasn’t another soul in this world that knew you so intimately. In the past, this wouldn’t have scared you, because you were so used to him and the ways he fit into your life so perfectly. Now, it frightened you to no end, reminding you of how much you had to lose when it came to Caleb. He was the most precious person in your life, which made it so much easier to fear losing him. 

If there were rules when it came to having a best friend, you were certain you had broken all of them. Number one: Don’t sleep with your best friend. Already off to a rough start with that one, it seemed, but there was nothing you could do about it anymore. Number two: Don’t fall for your best friend. You doubted you even needed to go over the rest of the rules. Breaking those two had caused you enough damage. 

Finishing up his food, he took a sip of his soda, noticing you were watching him intently. For the first time in a long time, he couldn’t quite decipher the look in your eyes. It almost felt as if you were hiding it from him on purpose.

He tilted the soda cup to you, silently asking if you wanted some of his. You leaned closer and took the straw in your mouth, taking a couple of sips before looking away. 

Something was off. “Is everything okay?”

You pressed your lips together and gave him a half smile. “Yeah, everything's fine.”

Caleb narrowed his eyes at you, reaching out and propping a finger under your chin, lifting your face so you were forced to look at him. 

“Pipsqueak,” He mumbled, dropping his gaze to your mouth for a split second, but it was enough to make you feel like you were set on fire. Like you were made of porcelain, he swiped his thumb next to your lower lip, rubbing away a stray crumb that had stuck there from your food. Then he looked at your mouth again, subconsciously leaning towards you as if he was about to kiss you. 

Immediately, you jerked out of his touch. Guilt ate away at you when you noticed how he reacted to this, the flash of hurt that passed over his face as he frowned. As much as you hated being the cause of it, the way he was looking at you has started to inexplicably hurt. You were unable to stop the tenderness that unfolded in your chest anymore. It was potent, too real to fight against. 

“We should stop.”

The words were out of your mouth before you could think about them any further, inciting confusion. He retracted his hand, the corners of his furrowed eyebrows tilting upwards. “Dinner? Because we’re pretty much done with that anyway.”

You could have taken advantage of his confusion and put this conversation off for a while, but you knew that letting this go on any longer would end up being torturous. 

“No, Caleb,” You looked away, trying to ignore the way your throat seemed to close in on itself. “I’m not talking about dinner.”

“Then what are you talking about?” His voice took on that impossibly soft tone it did when he was trying to understand how you were feeling to properly help or sympathise with you. It was something he did when you were younger and got hurt, and he wanted to make sure you knew you weren’t dealing with it alone. 

Sucking in a breath of air, you looked down at your hands in your lap, playing with your fingers. “I think we should stop having sex.”

A beat passed. You could feel the weight of his stare on you. “Okay.”

You weren’t sure where to go from there, your heart pounding within your ribcage like it was trying to escape. The light from your computer felt too harsh and the ticking of the clock hands was unnaturally loud in the stiff silence that settled over the two of you. Clearing his throat, he spoke again. 

“Did…Did I do something?”

“No,” the caution yet dejected way he said it made you blurt that out quickly, refusing to let him think something was completely wrong. “You didn’t. At all. It’s just…..” You trailed off, biting your tongue and regretting bringing this up already. “I….I wrote the scene.”

“The scene?”

“The sex scene. In my book.” The awkwardness in your cadence is foreign to your ears and his. You had never been so apprehensive around him because you had never had a reason to. This was a first you despised vehemently, scorning the way you had to phrase everything so delicately, as if you didn’t, the damage caused would be irreparable. 

“Right.” Now he had an unreadable look in his eyes too, matching yours. 

“Right,” you echoed softly. “So there's no reason for anymore…...research.” Because research had spiralled into forgetting your regular roles when it came to each other. Research had made you aware of feelings that had been dormant your entire life and should have stayed that way. 

In an ironic twist of fate, you had literally fucked around and found out. 

“I see.” 

You didn’t know what possessed you to keep talking when it was so obvious that both him and you wanted nothing more than to move on from this conversation. You risked a glance at him to find him aimlessly tracing the edge of his soda cup, eyes trained on the straw. “So we can go back to being just friends. Regular friends.” 

The clarification made you wince. When his eyes met yours again, you were surprised to find something different in the way he looked at you– those dark purple depths swirling with an intensity that superseded their usual levels, startling you. 

“We’ll always be friends, Y/n.”

Caleb didn’t call you pipsqueak. A minute detail that shouldn’t have shaken you at all, and yet here you were stuck on it in spite of the fact that he had just agreed to being friends again. Or rather, the normal definition of friends, because you weren’t ever anything more than that. You swallowed, turning back to your computer.

“Okay. I should get back to working on this article.”

Your dismissal of him was quiet but obvious. The air had started to get suffocating and you needed as much space from him as you could get until you sorted out the mess in your head, one that was your cross to bear. Your fault.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him nod and get to his feet, turning to leave, but hesitating for just a moment. 

It was only when he exited the newsroom that you realised it wasn’t any easier to breathe without him there. It felt even harder now, like someone had their foot over your chest and was putting all their weight on it, letting gravity do the rest of the work. You pushed yourself away from your desk, the wheels under your chair smoothly rolling away until the back of it hit the wall behind you. 

Even the impact of that wasn’t enough to shock you out of your misery. Surely, love wasn’t supposed to feel as cruel as it did right now, like claws sinking into your skin and making you bleed. It shouldn’t have felt wrong, but you knew that it was. Perhaps this was retribution for allowing yourself to indulge in something that was so clearly off-limits to you. 

A familiar pressure built up behind your eyes as you turned resentful. The sting of your sorrow manifested as tears welled up and caught in your lower lashes. You shut your eyes, but not before those tears slid down your face, cementing the bitter, indisputable reality of your heartbreak.

Caleb stayed away. 

He had known damn well that whatever was between the two of you wasn’t forever. It wasn’t even real, solely for the sake of your writing and the book you were so proud of. It was his fault for getting caught up in it all and expecting you to never call it off, to stay in that limbo with him forever.

Saying no to you was something he wasn't capable of. Not when he was ten and you were eight, and you wanted the last piece of cake even though it was his favourite flavour. Not when he was fifteen and you used to beg him to let you wear his shirts because you liked how oversized they were on you. Not when you would give him puppy eyes and sweetly ask him to cook those braised chicken wings you loved so much. 

And not when you needed help with writing about sex.

Even if it went against all his morals and everything he had forced himself to believe for the past twelve years he had known you. He had held himself together around you for as long as he could remember, hands to himself and thoughts strictly friendly. Caleb was used to the best friend role. He was good at playing it, even when the script pained him to recite, he did so anyway with a smile on his face.

Because smiling back at him was you. It was always you, with your bright eyes and angelic laughter. 

Caleb had accepted this role when he was only nine years old and had stuck to it ever since. He let it consume him, living in ignorant bliss as he silenced the pleas of his heart and what it wanted, no, begged for. 

How was he supposed to know where to go from here? The script had deviated too much for him to return to its safety. He knew how your lip gloss tasted, sweet and inviting and maddening, just like everything else about you. 

So he stayed away from you and your cherry lip gloss, hoping the marks it had left all over him would fade.

It had been almost two weeks since Caleb last set foot in the newsroom. 

Jenna was overjoyed and Tara was suspicious. The latter asked you where your ‘boyfriend’ was, to which you refused to look at her as you muttered the reminder: he’s not my boyfriend. It felt like you were reminding yourself more than her, lacking any of your usual annoyance. 

You supposed this was your fault as well. It wasn’t like you had made any effort to reach out either, stuck in your pathetic little cycle of self-pity and fear. You felt his absence, though, cutting deep into you and leaving you with a Caleb-sized hole in your life. The last time you experienced something like this was when he left for university for the first time and you were finishing up your senior year, suddenly having to deal with not having him around for months on end. 

At least he was calling you back then, and when you joined him at university, it never happened again. You hadn’t realised what a big part of your life he was until he was missing from it. 

God, you missed him.

You missed that stupid, smug chuckle of his when he knew you were getting riled up because of something he said, and his terrible sense of humour. The smirk on his face when you were losing an argument, and how he’d stick his tongue out when he was concentrating on something. Hell, you missed the sound of his voice and the comfort it brought you. 

After you finished your work for the day, you walked out of the newsroom and down the hallways of the university building. The cool evening air swept around you, making you think of one of Caleb's jackets that was still in your dorm from the last time he had been, draped over your desk chair. You almost wished you had it with you right now. 

Your feet carried you to the dining hall, reminding you of your need to eat through the wall of your troubled thoughts. It was not so much hunger as it was a necessity. Your appetite had been less than robust these past few days, your emotions weighing you down in more ways than one. You didn’t have him to remind you to eat or sleep, or run like a normal human being.

Grabbing an apple to appease your stomach, you bit into it and looked around, mentally going over everything else you had to do that day. Start an essay you had due the next week, beg the members of your group to do their parts of the presentation that was worth a whopping thirty percent of your grade and polish the last scene you had written for your book. 

It turned out that your turbulent emotional state had translated into you being more productive than ever, throwing yourself into your studies and writing like you had never before. Anything to avoid thinking about him and what you felt. An unhealthy coping mechanism for sure, but it worked for you. 

Kind of. 

Unable to stomach anything else, you tossed the core of the apple into a nearby dustbin and left the dining hall, eager to make it back to your room. You hadn’t slept very well lately, and you wanted to get all your work out of the way before crashing. Sleeping, you discovered, was another excellent course of action to take when you wanted to avoid facing something, and at least it wasn’t downright unhealthy. The dark circles under your eyes would certainly thank you. 

When you turned the corner, he was there.

Caleb stood there, just a few paces away from you in all his six-two glory. His back was turned to you, but you knew it was him, deep in conversation with his friend, Gideon. You were unable to do anything but stare, your pulse picking up in speed at the sight of him. You wondered if the chasm he had created between the two of you had affected him as much as it had you. 

When he bid farewell to Gideon and turned, you panicked. When he saw you, you remained rooted to the spot, watching as his steps faltered and came to a stop. He looked almost as tired as you felt, dawdling briefly before speaking.

“Hey.” 

Hey. Hey? Was that all he could say after refusing to look your way for over a week? Your apprehension flared up into anger, and you took three furious steps towards him, your docile stare melting into a glare. 

“You sure talk a lot of shit about keeping you informed for someone who has been avoiding me.”

He winced. “I wasn’t….avoiding you.”

“Oh really? Could have fooled me.” You scowled at him as you took another step forward. You were pissed, and rightly so, but it stemmed more from how hurt you felt rather than any genuine anger. 

Caleb didn’t bother to meet your eyes, opting to look off to the side instead. That stung a little more than you cared to admit. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, shifting his weight from one foot to another. “Have you eaten yet?’ Barely five minutes around you, and he had already jumped into trying to take care of you. It was so infuriatingly like him. 

Every time he didn’t want to face something, he would deflect and redirect the conversation. Your years together had taught you well, making it impossible for him to sidestep you even if he tried. You could tell he was avoiding you even when you were right in front of him. 

“Stop changing the subject.”

You watched as his jaw tightened and relaxed, something he did when he was conflicted. All his tells were so laughably obvious to you, and yet you couldn’t make heads or tails of how he was acting right now, so forcibly distant and detached, like being close to you was painful. Your eyes burned.

“Do you hate me?” You asked, hating how your voice suddenly sounded so feeble. His eyes snapped back to yours, wide and defiant. 

“I could never hate you.” The finality in the way he said it told you he was telling the truth, and yet, you couldn’t help but fall victim to the doubt creeping into your mind. He was looking right at you now– except he wasn’t really. It was more like he was looking through you. 

“Then…then why?” You whispered, taking another tentative step forward. The space that both of you created, consciously or not, was unbearable. You just wanted things to go back to normal, was that so much to ask for?

“I don’t hate you. You just don’t understand.” 

“Then make me understand!” You threw your hands up in the air in exasperation, wondering what the hell you had to do to make this conversation go somewhere, because right now it just felt like you were running in circles. “Caleb, please, just tell me why you’re avoiding me, because you are.”

He knew he was and hadn’t a single excuse, other than the reason he swore you never burdened you with. You were looking at him so pleadingly, grasping at straws to figure him out, but for the first time in his life, he found himself unable to give you an answer. Instead, his throat constricted, his anxiety keeping him silent. 

“It’s my fault, isn’t it?” Your face crumbled, and upon witnessing it, so did his heart. Your lower lip trembled like a leaf on a windy day, and you bit down on it to stop it from doing so, doing your best to stay composed. Running a hand through your hair, you let out a shaky sigh. “I knew it, I should have never– we shouldn’t have slept together. That should have never happened and now everything is fucked up, and its all because of me.” 

Yes. No. The answer wasn’t as straightforward as he needed it to be, and it paralysed him. The anguish you felt was on display for him and anyone who happened to walk by you to see, plain as day, as it twisted your features. It felt as if he had been stabbed in the gut when you backed away from him.

Turning away, you walked off. You had ruined things, you were sure of it, and it killed you. Once again, you let the rift between him and you grow with every step you took to escape the crash you had been responsible for. 

A hand on your wrist. You gasped as he caught you, spinning you around and forcing you to face him once again. 

Caleb had followed you into the gardens. 

“Do you regret it?”

The question cut through you, and you gaped at him. The fervour you were so used to seeing in him suddenly returned, burning brightly in his eyes as he pinned you in place with them, his grip on your wrist never letting up. Question for question, with neither of you getting the answers you wanted. 

You scoffed, rapidly blinking away the tears that you felt coming on. “If it's the reason things are weird between us, then yes! I do regret it. I need my best friend, Caleb. I need you.” 

How could you not need him? He was your constant, the one person who had been by your side through thick and thin. You needed him in your life, by your side, in whatever way you were allowed to, even if it wasn’t what you truly wanted anymore. 

He let go of your wrist. “I can’t do it.”

Your biggest fear was coming true right in front of your very eyes, and you hadn’t the faintest idea of how to stop it. It was taking form, bleeding into existence. You were losing him. 

“You can’t do what?”

“I can’t be your friend. I just can’t.” He shook his head, shutting his eyes like he couldn’t bear to look at you. 

Your voice comes out weak. Small. “But you said we’ll always be friends.”

“Well, I lied, okay! I can’t be your friend, not when–” He sucked in a breath, rubbing a hand over his face as he tried to reign himself in, stopping his outburst before it could happen. It wasn’t fair to you, none of this was, but he was at his breaking point. “I could do it before, but not anymore.”

“Why?” You whispered, those tears you had so valiantly fought off surging back. Once again, you felt like you had been trampled on, pinned down by a merciless gravity that had no regard for your need to breathe. You weren’t sure there was a reason to fight against it anymore. 

He looked up at the darkening sky, deflating. Staying away from you hadn’t made it any better– if anything, it had only made it worse, his yearning to be beside you bubbling to an all-time high. There wasn’t a point in hiding anymore, not when it was turning out to be detrimental rather than soothing. 

“Because,” he paused, peering up at the cloudy sky. He couldn’t see the stars. “I can’t go back to being your friend when I’ve tasted you. How am I supposed to act like I’ve never kissed you when I’ve had you in my bed? To pretend like I don’t know how it feels to have you like that? God, Y/n, I can’t do it.

Caleb, whom you had viewed as strong and untouchable all your life. Caleb, whom you had endlessly looked up to, sounded almost tortured, like it pained him to even have to tell you this. 

“What are you saying?”

You hoped you didn’t look as terrified as you sounded. It felt as if someone had pulled the rug out from beneath you, but the ground underneath it was falling apart too, leaving you to stumble around and try to find your footing amidst the cracks that remained. If you fell now, you weren’t sure you’d ever be able to get up.

But that was the thing, wasn’t it? You had already fallen, and hard. 

Caleb was stripped of his usual self-assuredness and confident smile. He was laid bare there in front of you, fixing you with a look that was so pained it tore through you. 

“I’m in love with you.”

The confession ripped through you, although you didn’t register it at first. Those five words felt so improbable to have been said by him to you of all people that the only thing you could feel was disbelief. It just didn’t make sense. Why would something you longed to hear so badly be said with such sadness? 

He mistook your stunned silence for aversion. He should have stopped there, given up and walked away, but now that he had finally, finally let it out, it was hard to stop. It was like a dam had broken within him; everything he had ever kept to himself when it came to you rushed out all at once. 

“I’m in love with you, Y/n,” he said again, scoffing slightly at himself. No nicknames, just your name spoken in that reverent tone, like you were a divine being he was a devout follower of. “And it kills me because I know you’ll never see me as anything more than a best friend. You’ve made that very clear, and I never want to overstep, so I stayed away from you.” 

“Caleb–”

He didn’t let you cut in. “I could do it when I didn’t know what it felt like to have you as something more than friends. The moment we crossed that line, it was all over for me. I would be your friend until I died if I didn’t know.” His hands were shaking, but they stayed by his sides, fingers curled into frustrated fists as he rambled. 

“I–”

“But I can’t, Pips. I can’t do it anymore. I can’t be your best friend when I’ve loved you my entire life.” And you’re falling all over again, gravity pulling you down, down, down as something unfurled in your chest. “So please just–”

“Goddamnit Caleb, would you just shut up for one fucking minute!?”

You hadn’t meant to snap, but he was seriously to piss you off, going on and on without giving you the chance to speak your mind. Immediately, he clamped his mouth shut, preparing himself for the inevitable rejection he had imagined too many times to count in his head. You, on the other hand, thought you were going to faint, overwhelmed by everything that had just happened. It was everything you had convinced yourself was impossible.

And yet…

You kept your eyes locked onto his as you closed the distance between the two of you, so close now that you could feel the warmth radiating off of him, combating the chill in the evening air. Swallowing, you asked. 

“You’re in love with me?”

He clenched his jaw and nodded. He knew what the consequences were, he was ready for them. It was about time he faced the truth anyway. 

What he didn’t expect was for you to start laughing. 

You clamped a hand over your mouth as incredulous laughter left you, eyes practically sparkling. Oddly enough, it sounded a little watery, like you were crying at the same time.

And then he realised you were, in fact, crying, tears streaming down your face. Alarmed, he stepped forward and cupped your face, instinctively wiping them away with the pads of his thumbs. This did nothing to dampen your hysterical laughter as you leaned into his touch. 

“What the fuck?” He muttered, concern overtaking his previous, heartsick expression. “Are you dying or something?”

“Or something,” you managed to get out, gripping his arms, “We’re so stupid.”

“That…..okay, I’m officially confused. And a little scared.” 

“Caleb,” you whispered once you stopped giggling, lethally soft. You looked up at him adoringly, eyes shining and tinged slightly red from your tears. “I’m in love with you, too.”

He froze, mouth falling open. He didn’t have to say anything, though, because honestly, he had said enough. It was your turn now. 

You leaned further into his touch, nuzzling your cheek against his palm. “I think I’ve loved you for a long time, but I only realised after….after everything that happened between us.” You flushed, trying to word it as delicately as possible. “And I drove myself crazy because I thought you’d never see me that way–”

“I’ve always seen you that way.” He breathed out, those captivating eyes of his trained on you in wonder. Butterflies came to life in your stomach. 

“– So I called it off. I said we needed to stop because I was so scared I’d lose you.”

By the time you finished, you were both staring at each other wide-eyed. His grip on you tightened, one hand falling to your waist as he tugged you closer. 

“You love me?”

“I love you,” you nodded. “It just took me a while to figure it out.” 

“Pipsqueak.” You had never been more grateful than you were right then to hear that stupid petname. “Oh my god, we are stupid.”

Without another word, Caleb pulled you into a kiss. You reciprocated instantly, wrapping your arms around his neck as you smiled against his lips, unable to contain yourself anymore. He kissed you like it was the only thing he ever wanted to do, holding you like you were precious, which to him, you undoubtedly were. It was your first proper kiss with him without any pretence or excuse surrounding it, and you couldn’t have asked for more. 

Chuckling when you dissolved into more giddy giggles, he wiped away any stray tears from your face and rested his forehead against yours. After all these years waiting and hoping that you’d feel the same way, he knew he’d never let you go now. 

“I love you, too.” It was a relief to say out loud and to your face, coming out of hiding and letting the truth of his feelings sit out in the light. You pecked his lips again and hugged him, revelling in his warmth and the delight of your feelings being returned. Your best friend loved you back, and everything in the world made sense again. 

“Don’t be my best friend,” You mumbled fondly, cheek against his shoulder as you laid out your final request. “Just be mine.”

He smiled, an expression so dazzling you’d never forget it. “I’ll always be yours.”

When Caleb looked back at the sky, he could see the stars.

“Are you done?”

“Shh.”

You rolled your eyes, flopping onto the pile of plushes on your bed as you pulled out your phone and went through your messages. To be fair, it had barely been two minutes since you handed him your laptop, but you were impatient, wanting to know what he thought as soon as possible.

Caleb’s eyes were focused on the screen as he read, humming occasionally as he scrolled through the scene. If anyone had told you a year ago that you’d be letting him read a part of your writing, let alone a sex scene of all things, you would have either laughed in their face or had a mental breakdown.

Yet here you were. Life sure had a sense of humour. 

Finally, after an agonising ten minutes, he spoke. “Wow.”

“Is it good?”

He shut your laptop and put it back on your desk carefully, before walking over to where you were. Then, he dropped himself onto the bed as well, purposely caging you in his arms and making sure you were trapped under his weight. Squealing, you hit his arm playfully. 

“Caleb!”

Your boyfriend laughed mischievously, lifting his head so you could see the smirk that curled on his lips. “It was good. Very good.”

You sighed in relief. “Thank god.”

“So I must be really good in bed, huh?” 

There it was. You groaned as you tried to push him off of you, even though you knew it was a futile task. “Don’t even try, you smug asshole.”

“What?” He asked, dripping in faux innocence. “I mean, you did use me for research purposes. Is it not a fair assumption to make?” He was so proud of it, and knew damn well that the entire sex scene he had just read had been falicitated because of him. Every part of it had been pulled from things the two of you had done, the thought of which made your skin heat up and your cheeks burn. 

“You’re so annoying,” you huffed, giving up on trying to get him to stop squashing you. Instead, you adjusted, curling into him. Accepting this, he switched your positions, pulling you on top of him and resting his chin on your shoulder.

“You like it.”

“Unfortunately.”

You yelped when he pinched your side, but it dissolved into giggles when he began peppering kisses all over your face. Slipping his arm around your waist, he held you close, grining against your skin. If you had to stay like this forever, in his arms and under the glow of his radiant smile, you would be content. 

“You’re an amazing writer, Pipsqueak,” he cradled your face in his hands, his love for you so achingly obvious in the way he looked at you that you wondered how you had never noticed it before. Rubbing his fingers against your cheek, he kissed your nose. “It would be just as great even if I hadn’t– uh– assisted.”

Though you snickered at him, you couldn’t stop yourself from beaming at his praise for your work. “I’m glad you did though,” you let him pull you closer, arm looping around your waist as you propped a leg over his. “Otherwise we might have never figured our shit out.”

He snorted. “Thank god for research. You would have kept me in the friendzone forever.”

“Hey!”

He silenced any further protests that you could have made, pressing his lips to yours in a sweet kiss. All possible complaints fled your mind the moment he did, eagerly kissing him back. You didn’t think you’d ever get enough of this and you had no idea how you had survived for so long while denying yourself of it. 

Caleb had loved you for twelve years, steadily standing by your side and holding your hand even when you couldn’t see it. He had walked beside you through it all, the highest of highs and lowest of lows, lifting you up high over his shoulders with a grin on his face. He would never leave you behind, because he was your home. The one you had grown up with and wanted to wake up to everyday for the rest of your life. 

He had taught you love without imposing it on you, silently showing it to you with every little thing he did. Your best friend. Your love. It had taken you a long time to catch up, but when you finally made it to the finish line, you found him waiting there for you patiently, holding out his hand for you to take. 

The next time Tara called him your boyfriend, you didn’t correct her.

fin.

[marauder-misprint]

Hiii! So I wanna start off by saying how absolutely in love I am with your writing. It's so fucking amazing and I can never get enough, I swear I've read most of your marauders' fics more than three times cause they just stay absolute gems 😭

I love how you write Remus, he's such a cutie, and I was hoping maybe you'd want to write a little fic with shy!reader x casanova!Remus? Some pining from reader's side, who's not at all popular or well-known and wayyy too shy to ever make a move, let alone on Remus? I'd like it to be fluffy, but it can contain basically anything you want 🫶

Thank you so so so much!

🥰🥰🥰 Thank you for all the love/support and the request!

And if reader won't make a move on Remus, he'll make a move on you. But politely bc that's who Remus is.

'These damn stairs'

part 2, part 3

Remus Lupin x reader

2k words

cw: fluff, mutual pining

It was a common sight to see: Remus studying in the library at a full table. Occasionally, the other seats were filled by James, Sirius and Peter, but more often than not, they were filled with various girls. He was always leaning over the table to explain something, keeping his voice low enough to not disrupt others. When he wasn’t at his own table, you would watch him offer his assistance to other girls in the area. It was obvious why so many girls loved him and purposefully sat near his table, simply hoping their expression was confused enough to catch his attention.

From what you could tell, he loved it too. How could he not? Pretty girls from every house trying to get his attention. You knew Gryffindor girls were the luckiest; they could vie for his attention in their common room as well and they had the highest chance of sharing a class with him. 

You watched Remus from afar. He was a mischievous genius, part of the Marauders and a prefect. You were a nobody who preferred to stay out of the spotlight. As much as you’d like to have Remus’ attention, you knew it would come with far more eyes on you than you wanted. You made peace with admiring him in secret. You envied the girls with the courage to lean over his shoulder, asking him to read their essay for them. You wished you were a part of the group that surrounded him during quidditch matches. You dreamed that one day Remus might invite you to Hogsmeade on a date, despite knowing that the chances of that were slim. 

You were surviving the day and on your way to the library during your free period. 

At least you were when your foot sunk into a fake step and got lodged. You cried out as your books spewed from your arms, spilling down the stairs. The few students who were around you snickered and walked around you. No one stopped to help you up or free your foot. The embarrassment alone was enough for tears to prick your eyes. You squeezed your eyes shut and took deep breaths to gather yourself.

“Hey, are you okay?” 

That voice. You’d recognize it anywhere. You opened your eyes to see Remus kneeling next to you. He had some of your things that had fallen farther down the stairs. 

“These damn stairs, right?” he joked when you didn’t answer him.

He set your things down a few steps up and then gently reached for your calf. 

“Turn your foot to the left. Then point your toes. It’ll help you wiggle your foot free,” he instructed.

You did as told and soon enough you were free. 

“Thanks,” you said softly. 

You immediately went into gathering the rest of your things.

“Yeah, it’s no problem, love.” He stood up when you did. “I’m Remus, by the way.” Part of you wanted to laugh that Remus thought you didn’t know who he was. Instead, you mumbled out your name and said, “Thanks again, Remus.”

Then, no longer feeling like studying due to your humiliation, you headed in the direction of your common room, holding your book tight to your chest. Remus watched you walk away. He recognized your face from the classes you had together and the time you spent at the library. He had never approached you in the library because of the focus that emanated from your table; he didn’t want to disturb your flow. 

You hoped to put the embarrassment of falling into a false step behind you. You had gotten Remus’ attention, but it wasn’t in the way you wanted. You certainly hadn’t wanted it to be paired with the laughter of your peers. Little did you know how deeply you caught Remus’ attention.

He chatted with his friends outside of the Transfiguration classroom the next day. When you walked by, he smiled at you and said hello. You returned the gesture and hoped you weren’t blushing as all of his friends looked at you. You took your seat and tried to calm yourself down. Simple pleasantries should not send you into such a frenzy. 

Remus noticed your reaction, finding it curious. It didn’t deter him from acknowledging you whenever he was near you. He would’ve been lying to himself if he said he didn’t think your blush was cute. The more he observed you, the more he realized how much you kept to yourself and seemed content to be alone. That, however, made Remus want to get to know you. He wanted to know the girl who hadn’t put herself directly in his path. 

He made sure to stop by wherever you were studying in the library to say hello. He would take a longer route to where his friends were sitting in the Great Hall so that he could ask you a question about homework, whether he actually needed the answer or not. He tried to catch you in between classes, but you proved to be more elusive then. Each interaction left you blushing and flustered, although after two weeks of it, you came more accustomed to it. Remus saw that as progress and hoped you would be open to having a real conversation with him. 

If someone had told you a month ago that you’d be trying to avoid Remus, you wouldn’t have believed them. However, you somewhat were. Every time he spoke to you, you felt like the whole castle was listening in and judging every word you said to him. You assumed that he was just being polite. You assumed that you were just the girl who fell on the stairs to him. 

---

“When I call your name, come get your essay and then you are dismissed,” Professor Flitwick said, holding the stack of graded essays at the front of the classroom. “James Potter, Emmeline Vance, Severus Snape, Remus Lupin.”

The first four students got up and retrieved their essays. You rested your head on your hand as you waited for your name. Obviously they weren’t in alphabetical order, and you assumed it wasn’t grade-wise either since you were confident in the essay you turned in. After a few more names were called, Flitwick called yours. You got your essay, noted the O at the top and left the classroom with a small smile on your face. Maybe it was the order in which the essays were turned in?

“Hey!” Remus called from where he was standing off to the side. 

You kept walking. There was no way that he was talking to you. Sirius or Peter must’ve been called after you. 

Then he called your name. You froze. You could hear footsteps as he jogged over to you. 

“How’d you do?” he asked once at your side. “O! Nice.”

You realized you were still holding your essay and hurriedly tucked it inside of your things.

“Yeah, I put in the work.” 

He gave you his easy smile and then ran a hand through his hair.

“I was wondering if I could ask you something.”

“Um, sure?” 

“Would you like to study with me later?”

You stared at him, unable to breathe. Had he just asked if you wanted to study with him? Well, yes, he had. But it didn’t feel real. Your mind started to spin with worry. You wanted to study with Remus. You wanted to spend time with him. But whenever he studied, he was always surrounded by so many other people vying for his attention. It was bad enough that whenever he talked to you, you could feel the eyes of everyone passing you; you knew that they were wondering why a guy like Remus was talking to a nobody like you. 

Remus said your name, bringing you out of your thoughts. 

“Uh, yeah. Yeah. I’d like that,” you managed to say.

His smile, which had briefly faltered at your hesitation, relaxed. 

“Great!” he said. “Meet you outside the library after dinner, yeah?” 

“Yeah. Erm, I��ll see you then, Remus.”

Remus turned and headed back towards the classroom, likely to wait for Sirius and Peter if they hadn’t been called already. You took a deep breath to steady yourself before you continued on your own way. You had just agreed to study with Remus and he was the one to ask you. He had actually asked you. And you agreed. 

It didn’t take long for your nerves to spike. You were regretting your decision to agree. The feeling of looming embarrassment hung around you for the rest of the day and through dinner. Part of you debated sending Remus a note saying that you were feeling ill and couldn’t make it, but another part told you that he might not invite you again and this could be your chance to make an impression on him. 

You ended up walking to the library. With each step, you felt your heart rate increase. You were sure that if you weren’t holding onto your things with such a death grip, your hands would be shaking. 

Remus was waiting for you, just as he had said he would. 

“Hi!” he greeted you enthusiastically. 

You smiled at him as he held open the door for you.

“I’ve got a table claimed in the back,” he told you, taking the lead.

Your nerves changed into confusion as you passed Remus’ usual collection of tables. He led you to a more secluded part of the library where his things littered one of the smaller tables with only two chairs around it.

Trying not to sound too ecstatic by the sight, you asked, “Oh, is it just us?”

Remus chuckled softly. “I invited you to study, not our entire year.”

A subtle blush dusted your cheeks.

“Oh… I just… You’re usually…” you mumbled.

“Yeah, I know,” he said. There was that easy smile again. “Forgive me if I'm wrong, but I assumed you’d rather have a more private table.” He paused as he watched your face for a change in expression. “We can move to a different table, if you’d like.”

Your blush became more prominent. He actually put thought into what table you’d like to study at? 

“Oh, no, no. This is good. You’re right. I study better when there’s less people around.”

“Helps with focusing, don’t it?”

“Yeah,” you breathed as you placed your things on the table.

His smile grew. He pulled out your chair and helped you in before taking his own seat. The two of you worked diligently in silence for a while. Every once in a while he stopped and watched you work; he loved the face you made when you focused so deeply that nothing around you could catch your attention. 

“What’d you think of Slughorn’s lecture today?” he asked.

“Hm?” You looked up from your assignment and processed what he had asked. “Kind of repetitive, if I’m honest. I guess some students need the review though…”

“Glad it wasn’t just me,” he smirked. “Good thing there are some pretty distractions in that class.”

You gave him a curious look as you repeated, “Pretty distractions?”

“You know,” he said, resting his elbow on the table, “the same pretty distraction that I have Charms, Transfiguration, Arithmancy, Defense with.”

You bit your lip. You had those classes with him.

“Believe it or not, saw that same distraction on the stairs a few weeks ago. Strange how she travels…”

Oh. oh. You blushed furiously before turning your attention back to your assignment. Remus Lupin was not flirting with you. There was no way. 

He let you return to your work, watching you sort through your thoughts for a minute before returning to his own. Once again, you worked in tandem. After a while, you started yawning. You cleaned up your stuff, which caught Remus attention. 

“This was nice,” he said as he started to gather his own things. “I’d like to study with you more, if you’ll have me.”

If you’ll have me. 

“Same time tomorrow?” you offered.

“Same time tomorrow.”

As he watched you leave the library, all Remus could think about was getting you to come out of that shell of yours. Maybe then he’d be able to ask you out on a date. 

[skyrigel]

Hey Rigel I love ur work like so much 💓 can I request Anthony bridgerton where he is getting married and realises his love his y/n or smth similar with him getting jealous and angry when y/n and Benedict or colin fake date like tht or anything if this doesn't make sense 😭

Enchanted | A.B x you

Pairing: Anthony bridgerton x fem!reader, Benedict x fem!reader x colin ( platonic) wc - 3.8k

Synopsis: When Aubreyton's CEO strikes a match with Miss Edwina sharma, because she's nice and kind and witty, ofcourse nothing could go wrong, except you have feelings for Anthony.

Warning :CEO! Anthony x assistant! reader, Asshole! Anthony, Benedict x sophie, Polin, bridgerton's chaotic dynamic, reader and Benedict share one brain cell that's mostly with you, alcohol, fake marriage( Anthony and reader), social media au, office au, modern setting, forced proximity, jealousy jealousy, mutual pinning, fluffy fluff, bit angst, arranged marriage, bit Collen Hoover bashing but it's a joke ( maybe not ) no Edwina bashing, scary Kate sharma, yes!!! ( Might add more later )

" Your brother is an idiot." You said, gritting your teeth as your mail blew with applicants, beautiful young ladies with peculiar yet remarkable talents.

" That." Benedict catched the grape midair with his mouth," we know of." He added with a cocky grin.

" Read another ! " Colin peppered, stealing your cookies which you ignored, sighing as you opened another mail.

" Tiana Young, twenty-one, I like to read, write and sing, my favourite author is Collen Hoover—" Benedict snorted, " —I like children and hope to be a mother, I am very soft spoken and good natured, my neighbours call me Ti, because I am a tea kinda person—"

" What's a tea kinda person ? " Colin bited the smuggled cookie, Benedict pulled the remaining to his side hastily, you felt your appetite long gone.

" It's like...they are like tea..." Benedict said, more in doubt as he looked for affirmation.

" Like milk tea or another tea ? " You asked, perhaps tea could takeaway your headache.

" What's an another tea ? " Colin's hand began to pull the tray, Benedict frowned but said nothing, taking one hurriedly and breaking it into two parts, offering you the bigger one.

" No thank-you, let me fix this Tiana's appointment." You exhaled, copy pasting a paragraph how (un) grateful you were to her for reaching out, she would soon have her appointment date and bla bla bla.

" I knew my brother was workholic but this wife hunting thingy is so exhausting." Benedict wiggled his eyebrows, you knew he was being kind but he wasn't helping at all.

" It would have been over if his requirements weren't so high, like he's not looking for a wife but some utopian woman god has yet to create ! " You were ranting, you knew, but this was the only way you could stop yourself from punching Anthony for putting you into this misery.

" Why can't he just fall in love ? " Colin looked at you and Benedict seriously, his mouth covered in crumbs, " Come on, love is like...like a force to be reckoned with ! " He beamed, ofcourse it was a force, didn't Penelope wrote something smiliary in her latest book, you somehow felt your heart shuddering, what would happen if Anthony were to be in love, some intelligent, beautiful woman, some utopian goddess of his, you didn't like the idea one bit, so you laughed it off.

" Brother in love ? " Benedict was in stitches, banging his palm on the table, shaking few very important papers that laid without any significance. They will be probably used as napkin if you weren't there.

" It's not funny." Colin got up, taking his coat, he rolled his eyes when Benedict refused to stop laughing, you shaked your head helplessly as another mail popped up, Jasmine had written a essay about global peace and increasing capatilism, you groaned, damn you Anthony bridgerton!

_

" Good evening Anthony." You tapped save on your screen as Anthony entered the office, a beak of sweat trickling down his neck line, okay, someone got either fired or roasted down to their very existence, you preferred the former.

" Good evening y/n." He looked up at you, he worried his jaw to say more but decided against it as he settled on his chair, it was very comfy and very big, years of working with him but you couldn't fathom the courage to ever have a taste, perhaps Benedict would help, maybe then.

" There are twelve appointments I have scheduled for tomorrow, Miss Becka—"

" Cancel them."

" What ?! " You almost shouted, you didn't waste your whole day to adjust and fit these pretty woman according to the time and weather and place and Anthony's mood so nothing went wrong, did he just said cancel them like it was nothing, this—

" We are going out Tommorow, it might take all day so cancel them." Anthony ran a hand through his hair as he exhaled sharply, your brain short circuited at the words more and more made some meaning, we ?! Did he, for heaven's sake said we ?

" You and me ? " You blurted and lowered your gaze when his eyes snapped to you, a deep color blazed your nose as you fiddled with your skirt.

" Yes, me and you." He confirmed and you could swore, that was a smile, a small, thin, almost unrecognisable on his always stern face, but that was a smile.

" Why ? " You closed your laptop, tucking the strands of your hair that usually came out after a long day, behind you ear.

Anthony pressed a key and it beeped, he shifted his face to you, thinking that he was almost frowning and finally, he said with a neutral face.

" I have found a match." His face gave nothing away, " Miss Edwina will be most suitable for marriage." He said it like it wasn't his marriage he was talking about, " she's very graceful and witty and would make a amiable wife and a kind loving mot—"

" Right." You snapped mid course, his mouth was hanging open with words lost in void, you knew very well Miss Edwina was a fine young lady, she was beautiful and kind and sharp at wits, ofcourse this ended your torment or perhaps began another, but not now, you needed to think.

" I..I promised Benedict for dinner. " You muttered, feeling your whole body numb as you stumbled out of your seat, Anthony watched, something glazed in his eyes but you couldn't place it, you might if you looked longer but you had no courage left now. You were almost at the glassy door, he was watching you intently and you felt his gaze burn at your back.

" You like my brother quite very much." He startled you, you paused, heart beats echoing through your throat. It was like he was accusing you, almost jabbing his finger on your chest. What does that mean ?

" What could I say ? He's very amiable." You turned to smile at him, it trembled on your lips and Anthony scoffed slightly, mouth curving in disdain but it was gone as soon as it crossed his face. Damn you !

" Have a nice day sir." You closed the door behind you, covering your face as a muffled scream cut through your cartilage.

_

" Miss Edwina ?! " Benedict almost screamed as you narrowed your eye sternly at him, he lowered his voice in a whisper, ducking his head down towards you, " sorry but Miss Edwina ?! "

" I know, I know." You swigged another gulp of the dizzy bubbling liquid that will give you a terrible headache tommorow but right now, you just wanted this uneasiness feeling to go away.

" Didn't her scary sister vowed to ruin him or something like that ? " Benedict licked his thumb, eye's watering at the spice, you loved this place's Chole bhature very much, last time Benedict cried when he accidentally bited the green masala filled chilly.

" Yeah, she refused to take ahead the Mayfair deal, or something like that, not that it would ruin anything and—" You sighed, leaning back your head as the soft music tickled your senses.

" What ? " You heard his faint murmur.

" Well Anthony was right, as soon as our team announced his engagement, ofcourse not revealing the bride, he's well trending—"

" He's always trending." Benedict groaned, chugging water as his lips were swollen with spiced heat.

" Yes, but not for thirsty things, i meant that Aubreyton is trending and our shares are touching the sky and it's a whole profitable season ahead." You ended breathlessly, you stared at him for full second before both your eye's crinkled with smiles and laughter that came from your hearts, it lightened the air somehow as well as your heart.

" You do remember I am part of the executive board ? " Benedict tilted his head with a warm smile and you shaked your head, feeling tipsy.

" Like you do anything except torment me and poor Colin ! " You pouted, feeling your cheeks flush as Benedict threw his head back and laughed.

" Poor Colin ? " He cooed, " he's probably getting laid tonight." He added with a wink, you slapped his shoulder nervously.

" Penelope replied ? "

" Ofcourse, my dear little brother wrote a whole ass three page message, with a picture of all her books that too hardcover and first editions."

" Wow." You said, impressed, Colin was head over heels, it was only a matter of time since the dazzling author knew.

" And what of Miss Beckett ? " You wiggled your eyebrows like Benedict did when he teased you, he turned a beetroot red as he fumbled with the last contents of his glass.

" She refused for a live in relationship." He said, his face grew sad and you mentally winced for putting him there.

" Oh." You nodded, Sophia lived with her evil mother who liked to see her suffer and she was, afterall, too good of a girl.

" Benedict..." You whispered when he closed his eyes softly, hiding his face behind his palms.

" I am not crying." He was. He sniffed as a few heads turned towards the pair of you, many with sympathy, probably thinking you had refused to marry him or something.

" Hey, hey, hey..." You pulled yourself as you dizzily tripped over to his side, wrapping your arms around him as he melted in your embrace.

" She doesn't understand..." He said it so muffled that it was unable to make out what he said, but you understood it anyway.

" She will, she loves you so much." You kissed his head and he nodded, tears streaking your shirt as he finally emerged with red, sticky face and puppy bright eyes.

" I think i drank too much." He admitted, you nodded, feeling yourself floating too.

" Let's call a cab, we shouldn't drive." You suggested, fiddling with cash as you payed the bill, leaving good tip for the teenager waiter, who smiled kindly at every inner joke Benedict shot.

" Uh huh." He focused hard on his phone, sticking his tongue out like he did when he was really, really drunk and or just really, felt the need to, or he was about to do something stupid, which he did.

Twelve minutes later, Anthony bridgerton was standing outside the restaurant with a heavy frown and it was strange to see him in normal clothes, like that grey t-shirt felt odd yet gorgeous and those sweatpants, you were way too drunk, you realised.

" You'll make a fine gentleman." Anthony curted his mouth, his words dripped with sarcasm that you and Benedict were too drunk to catch on.

" Thankyou, the cab idea was mine." He said smugly, ducking out when you smacked his ass with your purse, Anthony watched with wide eyes.

" Liar." You jabbed at him, he started to giggle and stumbled, taking you along before Anthony grabbed you by the waist and pulled you away from him, Benedict winked at you when Anthony closed his eyes, frustration or whatever that dazed him, his touch was electrifying, like current jostling in water.

Anthony pulled away his arms from you, his eyes strained like it pained him just the same it hurt you.

" You are wasting my time brother, get in the car." He glared, " come." He said to you, his gaze softened but that could be alcohol, you weren't reliable narrator especially when it was Anthony bridgerton.

" Well you could have refused." Benedict ran and sprawled inside like a bear, covering the whole back seat with his wasted body.

" Yes well, I didn't come for y—" he clamped his mouth in a thin line, nerve twitching on his forehead as he breathed hard, eyeing you as you ran after Benedict's seat thievery, you opened the door and his head almost snapped when he looked up you, it was a nauseous enough to make you vomit.

" Move." You pulled his hair, in no hell you will sit in the front seat, not like you haven't, but you were drunk and you were angry and you hated Anthony and you wished so much to just, to just, just once, once just, kiss him hard, that's alcohol, bloody alcohol.

" Leave this idiot." Anthony was suddenly behind you, he touched your elbow with same electric touch, guiding you to the empty front seat as he opened the door, you could feel Benedict wiggling his eye, you will deal with this bastard later.

" I was thinking—" Benedict started, once Anthony started driving, he was shut real quick when Anthony glared with words.

" Stop thinking." Anthony rolled the steering wheel and you looked away, those veins taunted and lured you, it was maddening and the streets were much dull and undistracting.

Benedict giggled at something he probably said in his head, you chuckled when he burped, he did too, only Anthony didn't.

" Don't you have a date tommorow with Mr. Dorset ? " Benedict craned his neck to get a view of you, two Bridgerton's eyes were too much to take as you thought hard, well yes a date, with Mr. Dorset, yes, you did remember.

" Ofcourse." You said, Anthony drifted a turn that jerked your head forward and you would have got a concussion if it wasn't his big palm that came for rescue.

" Are you okay ? " He asked, slowing down the car as his fingers pushed you back until the back of your head was pressed against the seat.

" Yeah." You confirmed, nothing was more threatening than his touch. He should bloody know that.

" Are you okay ? " Benedict mimicked and you realised he was down there, squashed on the car floor, his face hidden somewhere.

Anthony ignored him as his expressions hardened, he was breathing hard as he worried his lips, thinking and thinking.

" You do know it might take all day." Anthony finally said and you cocked your head to his side, you were drunk and well, sleepy too.

" What ? Well, it's a dinner date." You assured, Mr. Dorset wasn't letting go and a Thai curry wouldn't hurt anyway.

" Yes well, it might be very late." He was frowning now, his eyes were on the road but he would glance between nano seconds.

" Really ? " You pouted, you were way too gone now, it didn't matter, Anthony's eyes stopped at your lips and when he looked up, something changed, like it must have changed a long ago but it's colours were only visible now, like moon hiding behind the clouds, beaming but not seen and when it's finally high, hanging at sky, you blinked, expecting it to be gone, like everything, but when you opened your eyes, it was still there, as clear as ever, shimmering at you. That's alcohol, bloody alcohol.

" Yes.." Anthony gulped hard, pulling at Benedict's apartment, how much he wanted sophie to built a home with him, soon, you thought, soon.

" Oi y/n, I think I found your lipstick." Benedict hopped up, his face had lines where because he didn't bother to get up once he had fallen, with a shade that you never used in your whole lifetime, Anthony looked away when you tried to catch his eyes.

" That's not mine." You said, feeling anger creep up your neck, not knowing why, it's not that you were the only one who sat in his car and ofcourse you weren't his girlfriend, you weren't his friend even, he was your boss, you were his assistant, that's it, that's fucking it, you really wanted to punch his face, that's bloody alcohol, you would never drink again.

" Benedict, my brother." Anthony took the lipstick away which Benedict was trying to apply on himself, " get the fuck out."

" Goodbye to you too brother." He leaned to smooch Anthony when he hastily pulled away, growling.

" Bye bye sweetheart." Benedict smooched your cheek then and his lips only touched your warm skin before Anthony pushed him back in the back seat, it was, kinda rough.

" You are drunk." He told Benedict who shrugged, blinking heavily.

"He always kissed me goodbye." You glared at Anthony, this freaking bastard, chew on your lipstick, Idiot. You leaned down to kiss Benedict's cheek and he giggled softly, eyes locked with Anthony, his wide bastard grin flashing, glittering as Anthony eye rolled.

When Benedict was dropped, it was your turn, Anthony stared ahead like a statue, you were suffering in your own head.

The silence became heavy in air as the music was either tragic or too loud for your head and Anthony sensed the discomfort, turning it off altogether.

" What are we going to do actually? Venue deciding or something." You finally spoke, remembering how much you stared and stared when the article popped up, Anthony bridgerton looking for a wife !! You remembered the qualification list, should be well spoken, should be linguistic, should want kids, should be family loving, should be this, should be that, should have good enough hips to bear a child like what ?!

You remembered days and days when he would have his appointments, yes appointments, most of times he was out within five minutes, a frown on his face.

" She doesn't know algebra." He said one time when he came out within two minutes and you shrugged, well algebra was hard afterall.

And now Miss Edwina had ended all your miseries and torture, no lists, no more algebra's and Collen Hoover's, nothing of that anymore, Anthony would be a husband soon and perhaps he would love her, or already love her, he was so determined even when Kate sharma threatened to cut deals with Aubreyton if didn't stop sending flowers, well that was your doing, sending flowers because it was your idea, but well, it didn't matter.

" Well not the venue, but wedding ring and wedding dresses, Mother say we match and cake tasting and flowers—" we.

" When's the wedding ? " You looked at him scornfully, Anthony's eyes lowered at you as he stopped the car.

" Next week." Fuck you Anthony!

" Shouldn't you decide that with Miss Edwina herself ? " You were glad, but you had this feeling that he would be taken away from you, once married, he might not be yours, he was never yours, but still, why not start now ?

He frowned like it wasn't the most sensible and obvious thing.

" I..." He hesitated, " Miss Edwina might not want to go, since the wedding is too near and also, to keep it a private engagement."

" Oh." You didn't get a thing, your mind wasn't working as Anthony leaned down to open your door, you freezed, only your heart thudded loudly, could he hear ? What he did to you, well it wouldn't surprise you if he knew and still chose to torture your poor soul. " Why not state it publicly ? "

" I can't deal with the fanfictions." He said in matter of factly way. " And paparazzi giving Edwina trouble." Don't say her name, don't.

" Fanfictions ?! " You laughed so loud that he actually stopped thinking whatever he was, and just looked at you, as if taking in every detail, savouring them, drinking every bit of you in, he looked like he was mesmerized but that was just alcohol, just your silly heart, just you, who had read all those one shots, about you and him, ofcourse you weren't going to admit it and ofcourse you would be quite dammed if you ever saw Anthony getting shipped with Edwina Sharma, they are getting married in a week idiot, yes, but not today, not now, later, when it was time, please, not now. Later, now he was yours.

" You have a good choice either way." He was, for no reason, walking you to your door, you remembered how Benedict was practically kicked out earlier, he would tease you so much if you were to ever tell him.

" Oh please." You chuckled, rubbing your hands together in the chilly air, " I gifted Benedict onesies on his birthday."

Anthony smiled, it didn't leave his face until he caught you staring and you noticed how different he looked, when those lines were of joy instead of worry, he looked young and his boyishness made your heart do cartwheels.

" That was just a joke." He amused, " wasn't it ? " His smile faltered when you shaked your head in a no, fumbling for you keys.

" It wasn't so bad." Anthony said, somewhat traumatised, " Benedict wore them anyway."

" It had penguins ! " You cringed at the memory, a drunkish Polaroid like, blurred and saturated, it was vivid but just like yesterday, Anthony didn't dance until you were both so drunk, perhaps he smiled back than too, and looked just as dazzling.

" You are good y/n." Anthony said sincerely, " stop being mean to yourself." You opened the door but your hands freezed at the doornob, why Anthony had to cut the right wires, why he had to upside down your whole world ?

" Well, same to you Anthony." You said, he lingered on the doorway more than he should, it was alcohol, it really, really was but no amount of gaslighting could blur the memory away, you always remembered how brave you were that night when you leaned down, one step not much, and placed a small, chaste kiss, just a brush of your lips against his blazing skin. A touch to his soul, it sparkled and rose and busted into a thousand orbs and sprinkled like glitters on you and him.

" Good night." You whispered, Anthony stared, too stunned to say anything, then he smiled, small and enchanting.

" Good night y/n." His smile stayed.

[linkons-most-wanted]

I like your Sylus analysis so much and adore our dragon with all my heart but I steel don't understand why he acted so mean towards mc in the n 109 zone in the beginning 😭 and also it feels like he tried to return his old mc because he loved her but not mc from main story line 😔

Thank you for this ask!! This was actually perfect timing since I was just getting back into working on my Sylus PoV for Long Awaited Revelry which gets into allll this. And of course I will yammer about it endlessly whenever given the chance--this ended up becoming an essay. 😅

Storytelling and genre choices

First, I feel like I need to address the sort of "meta" reason--that is, the storytelling reason. The simplest answer is... it's hot. 🙈 While I'd say Sylus x MC isn't dark enough for most dark romance connoisseurs, his character leans in that direction, so there's a bit of meanness for the fun of it. I'm happy to go into more detail on that--and how liking meanness/darker themes in romance fiction is NOT the same as wanting/deserving those things IRL--but I'll leave it there for now so this doesn't get too long.

So, all that said, good writing hides that meta-layer well by giving you a story you totally believe, and imo the writers for Sylus do a great job of selling it.

MC's curse really is a curse

The biggest thing that stands out to me is how Beyond Cloudfall leaves off. Sorceress MC is being a bit selfish and vindictive (and we love that for her). He's about to be able to go to eternal rest knowing that he managed to defy his fate to kill his beloved. Then Sorceress MC says, "you're about to leave me alone, so I'm going to make you suffer through this same loneliness." I think we can be confident that by the time Sylus is able to "manifest" again, Sorceress MC is gone. There's a theme in Beyond Cloudfall of "if you kill them, they can't suffer" so her keeping him alive to suffer is pretty explicitly intended. (It's a romantic sort of vindictiveness, of course, but it's still vindictive.)

So Sylus is searching the galaxy for her, dealing with this intense love and also intense bitterness, perhaps even hate. (There's the saying that the opposite of love isn't hate, it's indifference. I really like playing with this idea of love and hate as two sides of the same coin with Sylus x mc.) All the years, all the boredom, all the loneliness, all the pain--she did that to him. On purpose. (It can be tempting to shy away from this, but imo the entire point of Sorceress MC is the power inherent in claiming our own dark desires and being honest about them. Another thing I could write a whole essay on.)

We now have canon confirmation that Sylus was in the N109 Zone by 2036, meaning that by the time they reconnect in 2049, he's been in the N109 Zone waiting for her for at least thirteen years, not to mention the years (or decades or centuries) as a space pirate before that.

When they do meet, Sylus tells her that she owes him "a curtain call grander than death itself". That is, he's not delighted that their reunion means he'll be happy again. He's bitter. He's over being immortal. She's his destined arch-nemesis and maybe she'll finally kill him properly this time. But of course, all those emotions collide with the fact that he still loves her, still cares about her, still on some level wants to treat her tenderly. And we see this conflict in his actions.

Adjusting to a different version of MC

I don't think it's quite right to say that Sylus doesn't love main-timeline MC and is trying to turn her into Sorceress MC. It's moreso that his love and history with Sorceress MC collides with the new reality of main-timeline MC. On some level, he expects to be able to step into their old dynamic, which is only natural. But the key things he loved about Sorceress MC are apparent immediately--her audacity, her stubbornness, her fire for life, her refusal to live by others' rules, etc.

The first thing Dragon Sylus says to MC in Beyond Cloudfall is "I like your eyes. They are beautiful… In them, I can see your hatred, defiance, and greed for life." So when she looks at him in the parlor, he sees all those things--her hatred for him (she thinks he's insane), her defiance of him (she refuses to cower and comply) and her greed for life (which sent her into the N109 Zone to claim her power, despite that being a suicide mission).

She is the same in all the ways that matter to him--and that's part of the problem. It intensifies the desire he has to get her to remember him, so he tramples over boundaries in an effort to recreate events from their past (using his eye to stir her greed for his power, having her shoot him being analogous to the sword, their antagonistic dynamic, etc).

But that being said, if all these things are being done out of love, why be so violent and demanding? That leads to the next point...

Sylus doesn't have "normal" friendship experience

The other key factor is that Sylus has not ever had a friendship or relationship with a "normal" person before. If people are brave enough to approach him, they're not going to be dissuaded by him being grumpy, pushy, caustic, etc. And, in fact, Sorceress MC meets him in this state and ends up falling for him anyway. So, as far as he's aware, she likes his forceful, demanding draconic ways. Being at each others' throats was part of how they fell for each other in the first place.

So, when they meet again, Sylus is probably assuming she's along for the ride. To him, her wanting to kill him is basically flirting. He's showing her all the traits she fell for before--but this MC has a very different early life. She wasn't shunned by society, she was raised by a loving adoptive parent. She has friends, a job, a purpose.

On some level, Sylus doesn't yet understand that it's a problem that MC is afraid of him, since that's how things started before. It's only when Philip tells him that she's disgusted or repulsed by him that he slams on the breaks. Teasing her, pushing her, making her angry--that's their dynamic. But for her to be disgusted? He suddenly realizes that there's a problem.

And, to his credit, we see him pivot and take that into account very quickly. He stops pushing the resonance issue. He figures out what she wants and helps her get it. Yes, he still tells her she needs to prove herself, which leads to my next point...

Why MC needs to prove herself

MC is stubbornly, stupidly insisting on inserting herself into the middle of an extremely dangerous place she's too naive to navigate. It's important to remember how very, very badly getting herself kidnapped into the N109 Zone could have gone. Philip says as much to her as well--and not because Sylus told him to. When Sylus gives her a hard time, wondering if he over-estimated her intellect, he's being blunt but not unfair. For example, she could not have dealt with the Wanderer attack at Elysium by herself, and she would have been up against that or worse if she'd made it any further by herself. As we see in other memories, she's terrible at lying and bluffing at this point.

Sylus has reason to be concerned that she's going to get herself captured or killed if he takes her to the Protocore Auction. It would be irresponsible of him to take her into that environment, where he can't be in two places at once, if she couldn't in some way hold her own. Captivating Moment (the myth) completes this arc where MC fully surprises Sylus and proves herself, and we get his iconic line, "With you here, I only need one plan." (That is, he can trust her and together they can overcome any obstacle.)

Zooming in on the parlor scene

In my opinion, most of Sylus's choices in Long Awaited Revelry can be understood vis-a-vis the above insights. But there's one specific decision that I think deserves a little bit more analysis--his decision to keep her under his mind control for those first 3 days when he's trying to force the resonance.

First off, I think it's meant to be very clear that he's using mind-control to keep her mostly unconscious in that time because there's some similar language in LAR to the Land of Lost anecdote when he's dealing with the Overlord. The writers are really intentional in their parallels, so I think we're being explicitly shown that he can and will keep someone in his thrall for a while.

But why? This requires more reading between the lines, though I'm fairly confident in my interpretation. I think Sylus's main two reasons for this choice are 1) he truly believes that if they resonate, she'll remember him and 2) he knows that if she sleeps normally, she'll have terrible nightmares, so the thrall state is intended as a mercy (like she does when he finally puts her in bed and has Luke and Kieran watch over her).

To Sylus--who is at his most impatient and demanding at the start of LAR--explaining himself is pointless if she won't believe him until he remembers. So, he's trying to take the most direct path. It's always worked for him before, after all. Maybe it'll even help jog her memory.

I really recommend watching closely his reaction in that parlor scene. He closes his eyes and focuses when they're trying to resonate. That little wisp of golden power is new--their previous attempts haven't yielded even that. Sorceress MC's power is depicted as that golden light, as is her soul--so touching that power would be achingly familiar. You see him hold her hand for a moment, feeling it again--but then he catches himself, dropping her hand. That power is so much weaker than it was before--that's why he stops trying to resonate and decides that the issue must be that something is blocking or suppressing her power, hence the trip to Philip at the Odd Workshop.

He's laser-focused on getting her to remember, sure that this will be the solution--until Philip informs him that he's actively repulsive to her. Sylus, who always thinks tens steps ahead, who always considers every contingency, suddenly realizes he's out of his depth. He's miscalculated. He realizes how selfish he's being--and this realization causes him to act differently. There's no doubt that Sylus made many mistakes in his early treatment of current-timeline MC, and yet his humility and decisiveness in changing his behavior shows strong character.

I think the most profound example of him changing course is that when they finally do resonate and she remembers more about him, instead of jumping on that and demanding more, he remains collected. Tells her it's not a big deal--it'll happen more. We see in Continuous Symphony also that he's waiting, he's hoping, but he's no longer pushing. And then in Razor's Dance, he's realizing that maybe her complaints aren't as flirtatious as he thought. Maybe this version of her doesn't want to be in his life. And so, without guilt-tripping or throwing a fit, he tells her clearly that he'll leave her alone if she wants to be left alone. And so she's truly given the choice of whether to continue the relationship or not. It's a poignant moment that, to me, fully sets right all his earlier mistakes and pushiness.

In conclusion

When they first reconnect, Sylus is dealing with the intensity of seeing her again, of her being the same in all the ways that matter, yet having her not remember him. That's painful enough, then add on his feelings of bitterness from the decades (or centuries) of waiting. No matter how mature or collected you are, that surge of emotion is enough to overwhelm anyone and cause them to not be their best self.

He expects his pushy behavior to be as endearing to her now as it was back then--after all, their whole thing was being true to their desires. He desperately hopes that resonating will restore her memory, and he remains laser focused on this goal to the detriment of their earlier relationship.

Sylus's love and essential maturity is revealed by how quickly and profoundly he course-corrects when Philip warns him that MC is repulsed by him. His personality doesn't change--he's still teasing, demanding, sly, smug, etc. (Which we love.) But he takes a big step back and focuses on helping MC get what she wants (the Aether Core) not taking from her what he wants (for her to remember him).

He realizes that asking this version of MC to remember their traumatic past together is too selfish, even for him. His initially mean and demanding behavior reveals just how badly he wants that connection--which makes his willingness to set that aside for MC even more profound. Ironically, we don't get to see the depth of his love without that indiscretion.

Sylus does a profoundly difficult thing--he grieves the loss of their past life together so that he can embrace this new reality with her--falling in love with the person she is now, the person she's become. The one that was quietly transplanted to a garden far away, but has still bloomed beautifully. 🥹

[r0ttenhearts]

can I request a charac using reader who has a crush on them for their own benefits. while reader is left to wonder why chrc acts like a stranger to reader in public. eventually confronting chrc and them brushing it off as not noticing, being too busy. until reader eavesdropped to a convo with chrc's friend abt chrc just using reader. and reader leaves and ignores chrc for a while and chrc slowly starts missing reader's presence, only to see reader with someone else and confronting reader about it. of course charac won't get the happy ending 😈

(preferably scara, or childe-- if u write for him.)

feel free to ignore, I think I haven't expressed my req properly 😭😭.

also can I be 🌧️ anon ? :>

thanks 🌧️ anon for the request ^^ i hope you enjoy!

not your pet, anymore

scaramouche x reader

warnings: angst, arguments, insults, suggestive mentions

“you love me, right?”

“of course i do, scara. you mean so much to me.” you whispered, fingers running through his hair as he leaned against you. his thick eyelashes fluttered shut, hand on his chest as he lay against you.

the biting cold of fall couldn’t compare to the warmth you two shared, huddled together like this. his cheeks still tinted pink from the cold air, hands cold to the touch, it was just the way you liked him to be. cold enough for him to want to sit close to you and warm up.

touches were not a regular occurrence for scaramouche, he was normally dismissive, claiming he hated the closeness of skin on skin contact. but that wasn’t said when he’d tug at the end of your sweater, asking if he could feel more of your warmth. soft pants escaping your lips, his cold hands wandering, bodies on the cold floor of his bedroom. that’s how you’d spend your days after school.

but this time, with your hair sticking to your sweaty forehead as you finished up some of scaramouche’s homework he had passed on to you, something felt different. he was glued to his phone, an unusual smile gracing his lips as his thumbs danced across the device. you frowned, putting down your pen as you watched his face pull up in expressions you had rarely seen.

“who’re you talking to scara?”

“none of your business, (y/n).” he snapped, the smile he had been wearing for a few minutes dropping as his head snapped up to look at you. he sighed dramatically, getting up from the floor as he placed his phone down next to your hand, his face inches away from you.

“so damn nosy (y/n), when you should be doing my essay. are you bored? should i give you more work? or maybe i should let you suck me off, put your mouth to use. i think i like you better when you’re stuffing me in than anything you’ve ever said, anyway.” he sneered, enjoying the silence from you. a slight movement from you caused annoyance to bubbled up inside of him, his face unable to hide that itching feeling.

“you know, if you weren’t like this i’d be nicer to you, hell, maybe i’d love you. fat chance of that happening, i hate you most of the time. the only time i like your mouth open is when you’re making those pretty sounds for me, anything else is just muck.

why’re you so quiet, huh? are you gonna run off to your friends again? tell them how horrible i am? you think someone like collei will bother with you after you tell her what you do in here with me? how you open yourself to me? after swearing to her you’re done with me? you’re fucking something, (y/n). honestly, i’m getting sick of you. can you get the fuck out now?”

scaramouche’s phone buzzes, screen lighting up with a new text message. the both of you glance to it at the same time before he snatches it up, typing away a response as you gather your things without a word. biting your tongue was easier said then done, but you knew the argument would be worse if you said anything to him at all.

with a gentle click of scaramouche’s door, hours had gone by since you made your way home. a warm shower to rid of the nagging feeling at the pit of your stomach, along with the stickiness scaramouche had left you. you weren’t enjoying this, not one bit.

you figured you’d talk to him tomorrow in class, apologize for your inconveniences to him, and have it return to how it usually was after a fight. if you could call it one.

what you didn’t expect was to see scaramouche sitting by the green haired girl, haypasia, his usual seat empty as they sat side by side. quietly setting your things down, you still thought to say good morning to him, as a sign of peace.

standing from your seat, you meekly stood in front of him, hands wringing in front of you nervously. “good morning scara, and haypasia, i was wondering if—“

scaramouche never looked at you the whole time you were standing in front of him, his eyes glued on haypasia as her eyes bore into yours. a bitter smirk on haypasia’s face as she waved you off, scaramouche rolling his eyes before continuing whatever conversation they were having before you interrupted him.

a pain started to form in your chest. that nauseating prick that you’d feel every time you knew scaramouche was fooling around with other girls. cold sweat was all you felt as class droned on, your eyes never leaving the back of scaramouche’s head as his hand would slip underneath haypasia’s desk, sliding her pieces of paper that she would giggle at or turn red to after reading.

why is he being like this? should you have said something yesterday? would the satisfaction of knowing he practically owned you satisfy him enough to not be like this? these thoughts ran through your head until it was time for lunch, that bell being something of a savior as you were freed from seeing him there with her.

childe’s loud laughs caught your attention as he stood with kazuha, an anxious look on the white haired boys face as his eyes locked with yours for a moment. “i mean, just look at her! everyone knows scara is just using her. i heard, he’s been sleeping with (y/n) so he’s good enough to do it with that other girl, whatever her name is. you know her, right kazuha? whatdya think? did you get a piece of her yet too? or is it just scara sinking his claws in her, and something else!”

kazuha’s nervous laugh as childe punched his arm spoke volumes as you stood up, clutching the strap of your bag. kazuha noticed the tears in your eyes as you ran out of the classroom, you had heard every word that came out of childe’s mouth. excusing himself, he ran after you, his soft taps of his feet on the floor in comparison to your loud, cluttered footsteps.

scaramouche heard about this from childe, his demeanor changing once childe gave him the details on how kazuha ran after you. he didn’t know why it bothered him, but it did. no one else should be acknowledging his pet, the one that was so compliant and listened to everything he asked of you.

that’s how he saw you, and that’s all you were to him. right? that egging feeling in his chest as his messages to you were now left on seen more often than not. your cat keychain you hung on your bag that “reminded you of him” being replaced by a charm of a maple leaf, the same one kazuha had on his bag.

it bothered him. and he didn’t try to hide it. every time you’d sit next to kazuha instead of him, he’d grumble under his breath. a part of him ached to see you bare on his bedroom floor again, your fingers running through his hair, your gentle kisses on his forehead when you’d put him to bed when he was in a foul mood. he actually missed you.

but why were you so distant now? surely kazuha wasn’t giving you something he wasn’t, right? he couldn’t. you’d always declared your loyalty to scaramouche, never once breaking it.

then why did you admit you were in love with kazuha? your hands together in front of scaramouche as he scoffs, taking you by the wrist the second those words left your mouth.

“come again? i think i misheard you (y/n). you said you were in love with me just last month. so how do you even think you have feelings for that poet?” his voice wavered, eyes scanning across your face for a sign, a hint of remorse or love that you once held for him.

you shake your head, taking your hand away from scaramouche’s grip but he tightens it anyway. his eyes bore into yours, begging, pleading for it not to be true. for you to laugh it off and say you were kidding.

“he’s.. kind. it’s unlike something i’ve had before, and.. it feels good. it feels good to be wanted, scara. something i never felt with you.”

“something i never felt with you”, those words rung in his head as he laughs loudly, fat tears spilling as he pulls you into his chest. your hands going to push him away as he holds you tightly, laughing through his tears.

“you promised me (y/n), you promised you’d stay. you said you’d stay with me forever, love me forever! please don’t be like them, please don’t let that be a lie.”

“let me go, scara. please.” you whispered, feeling him shake his head as his hands tighten around you.

“n-no, no.. i can’t lose you too. archons, i can’t. what did childe say (y/n)? i promise he didn’t mean it, whatever he said isn’t true! i swear.. let’s just, go back to how it used to be, yeah? you can come over like you used to and- and we just don’t have to have sex. we can do things you like! i swear.. so please..”

his tears had rolled down, coating your neck as he wept. you’d never seen him in such a desperate state. his eyes looking into yours for a hint of what used to be there for him, but there wasn’t. more tears rolled down his cheeks as he let you go. he had fucked up. again. and this time he lost you, the one thing he never thought he’d lose.

“i’m sorry, scara. i’ve moved on. i think you have too with haypasia, you’ll be okay.” you say before picking up your bag, leaving him standing there with a wreck of feelings in his chest.

“you’re just like the rest.” he spat under his breath, harshly wiping at his eyes as the tears continued to flow. a hateful sentence meant to comfort no one but himself. he knew you weren’t at fault for it, he knew one day you’d want something more of him, something he’d be reluctant to give you. the day you finally escaped the clutches of the toxic relationship he had given you, the same day he had deemed the end of his new beginning.

“i never got my forever with you, like you promised. i can’t apologize for hating you for it.”

taglist: @sakiimeo @astrolomona @dearsumire @saeism @shoheartluv @0kauy @lelemnh @kaoriee @samarill

[moonstruckme]

hey, i love your writing so much!! can you do something with remus where reader is really upset over doing bad on an assignment and he comforts her. i had an essay today and i KNOW i failed😭😭i fr need a remmy

Thank you gorgeous! I hope you did better than you thought <3

modern au

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 831 words

Remus can feel some sort of upset building inside you. You’ve been quiet ever since dinner, a glumness accumulating around you like a thick fog. He’d call it a sulk if your usual kindheartedness didn’t seem so intact. But every smile is thin-lipped and you’re making painfully slow progress on your section of the puzzle, your eyes too often going cloudy and distant, off to somewhere Remus can’t follow. 

“Think I’ve got one of yours,” Remus murmurs, pushing a puzzle piece towards you. 

You take it with a low hum of thanks. 

He watches as you put it in your pile. His section of the puzzle isn’t coming along much better; he’s too worried about you to focus. You’re teetering on the edge of some sort of fracturing, he can feel it, and he doesn’t know what to do or how to make it better. 

He tries a new tactic. “Do you feel like some dessert, love? I might nip to the corner store for a sweet.” 

“Sure, that sounds good.” The smile you give him this time is more a grimace than anything else, and then you’re pushing yourself up from where you sit on the floor. “I’m going to go to the restroom.” 

Remus watches you go with a hollow ache in his chest. During dinner, you’d gotten an alert on your phone, and the change had been instant. Your shoulders had drooped at whatever you’d seen, your lips parting and then pressing determinedly together before you’d set your phone on the table, face down. Remus didn’t ask, and you didn’t seem inclined to bring it up. But whatever it was has clearly stuck with you. 

He gives it a few minutes before he follows. You could actually be in the bathroom, but he doubts it; he thinks he knows where you’ve gone. There’s a small gap between the bed and the wall in your bedroom, just barely big enough to walk in.

That’s where he finds you. Slouched in the corner as if you’ve misbehaved. 

“Hey,” he says softly, cramming into the space in front of you. He places his feet on either side of yours, your drawn-up knees slotting between his calves. “Why’re you hiding from me?” 

You’ve got your face covered with your hands, and your voice muffles into them when you speak. Still, the evidence of your crying is audible. “Because I know I’m being stupid.” 

“You’ve never been stupid, not once in your life,” Remus replies lightly. He takes your wrists in his hands, letting his thumbs run over the sensitive skin. “If you tell me what’s wound you up so badly, I can tell you if it’s stupid, but I doubt it is.” 

You lower your hands without his asking. It takes a good deal of self-control not to crumple at the sight of you. Your face is blotchy, a terribly sad downturn to your pretty lips, and when a tear globs and drops from your eye, Remus feels like someone’s thrust their hand into his chest and squeezed.

“You’re too nice to tell me if I’m being stupid,” you say, a teasing note to your voice despite your sorry state. 

Remus goes with it. He nods, faux serious, and gives you a look of great solemnity. “If any stupidity comes to light, I promise to laugh at you for the rest of the night.” 

You start to smile, but it crumples halfway through. “I really messed up.” 

There’s no joking to his seriousness now; he feels his brows bunch as he rubs a path up your forearm, desperate to soothe you. “How, sweetheart?” 

“I did really badly on my essay,” you whimper. “I know it’s dumb to cry about but I just—I really wanted to do well.” 

His heart swells with sympathy, though there’s a bit of relief that comes with it. “That’s not stupid,” he promises you, working his hand up your arm to your shoulder. It’s halfway to a hug, and you lean towards him a little, craving the comfort. “To some people, it might be, but you put so much pressure on yourself about these things.” He kisses your knee. “I’m sorry you’re disappointed, lovely, but it’s going to be okay.” 

You shake your head, sniffling. “The grade’s already in. There’s nothing I can do.” 

“I know,” Remus says apologetically. He moves closer, looking into your eyes so you can see the sincerity in his. Your chin wobbles. “It’s done, but you’ll be alright. You’ll still graduate, get a job. In a year from now you won’t even remember this.” 

You lean forward, pressing your forehead against his. You’re still weeping, but it’s slowing. He sets both hands to your cheeks. “You did your best, sweetheart. Keep trying. You’ll be okay.” 

“Promise you won’t leave me if I fail this class?” you joke.

Your efforts win a rare smile. Remus scrunches his nose against yours. “Promise. It’ll take a lot more than that, you’ve got me all settled in.”

[shoulderscars]

Why I love Midnight Sun

ok I know this might be a hot take, but I actually love Midnight Sun. It's my favorite Twilight Saga book. And here's why [Spoiler Alert Affective from here!]

The Making of the Cullen Family (and their respective backstory's): I love that we get to know all the little details, like how Alive waited for the perfect moment to join the group and how she literally hugs Edward the moment they meet for the first time, and how they have a mutual understanding before saying a word in conversation.

Carlisle. (Simple, refined, respectable, perfect): It's not like we didnt know the before Midnight Sun, but I think Edwards insight on his brain is just...amazing. We can really see all of Carlisle's selflessness and how he is a simple man who wants the best for his children. Also, we get an insight on Carlisle and Esme's love with is so refined but perfect.

Emmett. (The best Cullen after Carlisle?): The whole book is actually giving Emmett's character depth. In the beginning of the book, Emmett's internal thoughts seem to be the same as he is perceived in the rest of the books from Bella's perspective, but as the book progresses, we see Emmett being amazing, and how much of a loving and simply perfect person (loose definition) he is.

Edward & Rose (good God they could be toddlers but really cute nevertheless): The scene where Edward remembers the day that he and Rose became brother and sister is actually a gorgeous scene. Lives in my head rent free. Also I love how the come to a consensus that Rose won't play nice but she will tolerate, and then they both keep snapping silently at each other. BUT when Alice mentions Charlie and the red head on the phone (while getting Bella to the hospital), Rose is honest to God ready to kill for him. BRO.

Jasper's Powers (wait he's actually OP?): Jasper's general character depth isn't explored much in the book, but his powers that he displays in the field is actually on a whole different level. No explanation needed

Alice's Powers (it's a work of ART.): In the scene where they are transporting Bella from the dance studio to the hospital, we take a dive into how Alice uses her abilities and how she perfects the future. The whole scene is flawless and actually clears up a lot about her "physic" ability based on decision making. The whole section just flowed so well, and I love it so much.

BONUS POINTS: Emmett getting repeatedly annoyed at the silent conversations that Alice and Edward have. IM SORRY I LOVE IT SO MUCH, and I love how EVEN AFTER 70ISH YEARS OF LIVING WITH BOTH OF THEM, IT STILL ANNOYS HIM HAHA

Didn't think I was gonna write an essay tonight but here I am 😭😭

I do genuinely love the Twilight Universe (the book version y'all with only visual inspiration for imagination hehe) and this book....ah I love how it helps build the vampire side of the lore. It makes me so happy lol

[sukunasweetheart]

according to some fans sukuna could also be a r*pist.what's ur thought on that?

Tw: discussions of rape

Im guessing this is rooted from the moment where he asked about the women and children 😭 which is odd, because he literally said "it'll be a massacre!" right after... he had murderous intent, not lust. Or maybe women and children taste better!

I know if you look at my masterlist you'll see a couple of dubcon fics and its true i like dabbling into dark content with sukuna quite often, but canonically speaking, sukuna has never been portrayed as an inherently sexual individual.

He is quite the opposite in fact, he is a complete nerd for jujutsu, he values strength above all and i just don't see him being interested in raping someone...? Though i understand him committing atrocities and believing that the "weak" deserve to endure their own suffering has kind of led to people getting the idea that he wouldn't be opposed against raping someone but i really disagree with this idea

He has shown time and time again that he is completely uninterested in weak people, in fact, he doesn't even give them the time of his day - most of sukuna's victims have been killed off quite quickly and without him paying much attention to them at all, he simply doesn't care about those who don't match his bare minimum expectations.

And those that he does end up liking to some degree, people who have the power to give him a somewhat worthy fight, he does respect them in his own way, which is indicated by him learning their full name and being more responsive and engaged when he's fighting them. When he was fighting yorozu, she asked him to "wait!" even after they had started fighting, and i found it interesting that he actually stopped and heard her out before continuing the fight. Additionally we can see from uraume's relationship with him, he is also not keen to abuse them at all, in fact he is quite chill with them??

If sukuna is uninterested, he does not even bother looking at them twice. When he is interested in someone, he has shown he maintains a level of respect for them. In my opinion, it doesn't matter whether this interest is romantic or platonic, i think one can depict a lot about the other...

I definitely don't think he doesn't rape because he thinks its morally wrong or whatever, i feel like he just 1) lacks an inherent desire for sex (he is more infatuated with a person's strength and jujutsu) 2) he doesn't go out of his way to torment those weaker than him, he is just that disinterested in weak people 3) to people that he ends up liking to some extent, he respects.

Sukuna is a very sexualised character (i dont hate it, in fact i love it a lot 😍) which i think makes him more prone to easy misunderstandings that he is sexually impulsive as well, but gege has shown us its really not the case! (Yorozu came over with her whole pumpum out and he did not bat an eyelash)

Please take anything i say here with a grain of salt, i am obviously not gege akutami so i wouldnt dare to say i know sukuna inside and out, but this is just my honest thoughts on this question!

I won't completely rule out the idea that he may be a rapist, gege hasn't portrayed his past, we barely know anything about sukuna personally- but judging from what we already have canonically, i don't think he would be a rapist.

I know that in fanfics, almost anything is game and i really enjoy viewing sukuna from all kinds of angles and perspectives, i truly believe he is such an interesting and appealing character, i could also write up a whole essay about how flexible he is to write with, but this is already quite a lengthy response to a simple question so i will leave it here 😭

[darylsdelts]

Hi! Could you write a Daryl x f.reader hc in the mornings? I feel like slow mornings would be Daryl's favorite time of day, just enjoying his partner without having to think about the day ahead..

P.S: how did you not start writing sooner?? I love how your pretty brain brings our delusions to life lol

I’m gonna do the smaller request’s first so that they don’t pile up because having loads of requests makes me anxious😭 idk why but I’m getting to em all!

Anon!!! I love this so much! I love domestic daddy Daryl so much like yes! Idc what anyone says, he’s sooooo husband! And alsooooo… TYSM! I’m not really a writer😭 I didn’t intend to actually write on here but people started sending full on essays for me to write so why not. I did write some stuff on Wattpad though that I could post here??? If y’all want??? Anywayyyyyssss ily!

I always imagine these sorta things with you and Daryl in a secluded cabin, away from the community. You’re still part of the group but you and Daryl prefer to be alone together.

Living away from the community, Daryl is like a different person, he’s way more relaxed and less on guard. Less irritated by people too.

The sunlight seeps through the cracks in the curtains in the early mornings.

Daryl usually wakes up first but if he doesn’t then you shift closer, resting your chin on his bare chest and admiring his sleeping face.

His hair framing his relaxed face, he looks younger when he’s sleeping, your favourite part is how his rounded nose twitches when he starts to wake up.

As soon as he opens his eyes, you feel his chest vibrate as he hums, bringing his hand up to push a strand of hair behind your ear.

“What’d I tell ya ‘bout starin’, Hm?”

His lips twitch upward, he fucking loves the mornings when it’s so peaceful and it’s just him and you, like the world doesn’t really exist.

“I think you told me to quit it”

He chuckles, rubbing his thumb across your forehead.

Daryl thinks you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, especially when your hair is messy from sleep and you’re in barely any clothes.

There’s no doubt that every morning, his mind drifts to thinking about staying in bed with you all day, worshipping your body and making you feel good.

And that fantasy is almost always thrown out the window when the both of you hear paws enter the room, dog jumping up on the bed, licking at Daryls face.

“Dog! Jesus chri-… yeah, okay okay, good boy”

After getting out of bed, Daryl pulling on just his jeans that sit low on his waist and you in a thin night dress, you both go to the kitchen area.

Daryl feeds dog so he stops whining and then he’ll cook up something he hunted and serve it to you.

You’re greatful for your hunterman, taking such good care of you.

Even after being together all these years, Daryl still gets shy, sitting opposite you whilst eating, barely able to make eye contact.

Some mornings, if it was hot enough, you’d go swim in the lake with dog whilst Daryl would watch over the both of you. He’s not greatly fond of swimming in the lake since he wouldn’t be able to protect you as well as he could from the side.

“Can we go to the lake?” You ask as Daryl takes your plates.

“Ya wanna? Ain’t so hot out today, darlin’”

“I wanna”

He’d roll his eyes, he could never say no to you.

He’d sit on the bank next to the lake, watching you in just your panties and bra, swimming around in the water with dog.

After you get out you’d complain that it’s too cold and he’d bite his tongue, he did tell you so.

He’d wrap you in a towel and leave you shivering whilst he towels dog off.

“Shouldn’ta let ya go in the damn water, yer gon’ get sick”

You’d pout as you shiver, Daryl wraps his arms round you, kissing the top of your hair.

“Let’s get ya inside, warm my girl up”

You have a feeling you know what he means.

This isn’t even really hc’s 😭 full on story I’m sorry but I always get so carried away.

[only-lonely-star]

heyyy!! i broke my wrist last week so could you do some ponyboy x reader hc of you breaking your arm/wrist😭 currently i think the cast is kinda cool ngl but all my friends were so worried and concerned, and my ‘mom’ friend is worried when i try to do stuff with my cast/wrist (ex. hold a door open with it, balance my binders on if, etc) and i imagine that Ponyboy might be the same way tbh. maybe smth about his protectiveness, worry/concern, cutesy stuff like that, especially if the reader broke their dominant hand. also maybe make the reader like super nonchalant abt it and find the concern funny lol, yet still frustrated when they can’t do anything by themselves bc it was their dominant arm💀

sorry for the essay/broken wrist rant lol, tysm lovely😭💗🤞

Ponyboy Curtis x injured!reader HCs 🏥

Warnings: Contains of a reader with a broken wrist, and reader experiencing mild pain. Gender Neutral! (I apologize that this is a bit short, the only thing i’ve ever fractured was my nose in seventh grade lmao 😭)

Author’s Note: I’m so sorry about the injury, I hope you recover fast and heal properly 🙁🫶🏼. Sending much love!!! Thank you so much for your request! I agree 100% Pony would be constantly paranoid you’d hurt yourself even more and those protective instincts would flare up. AND YES BC HE WOULD BE THE BEST NURSE OMG- ANYWAYS, I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY!!!!

┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ୨♡୧ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈

⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣

If the injury happened while he was present, just know this boy was worrying himself GRAY. He would have a hard time deciding whether to call Darry, Soda, or having himself try and get you to the hospital. (Especially if he’s super tight with you, he would be scared and feel almost guilty.)

Once you’re all set and have your cast, Pony would be all helpful and abnormally sweet. No, seriously. He would try and rush to do everything before you could even try. The most simple things you could do even without your dominant hand would be his top priority. Things like picking up your own glass of water, opening doors, etc. I think it’s so cute for him to get sort of offended and feel rejected when you try and assure him you can do it yourself. “But I’m just trying to help… *slight frown*” AGDHFHJSJFV

HE WOULD TRY AND NOTIFY EVERYONE YOU’RE HURT ☹️☹️☹️

⬆️ I’m imagining a group setting where everyone is lounging in the Curtis household living room. You’re just chilling, chatting with the boys until one of them gets a bit too close to your injured wrist he tenses and abruptly goes “Be careful around their wrist-!” or, “Watch the cast-!” before sitting back down awkwardly. Keep in mind, the boy is just paranoid as hell - you’re not in any pain at the moment, and the boys were fully aware you’re injured. (He’s such a cutie good the fuck bye.)

Doodling on your cast and signing it like a celebrity as soon as it was made is such a Ponyboy thing to do. He’d try and write it where you could always see it and not have to bend or move your arm around so much.

He would DEFINITELY carry your books, backpack, lunchbox, etc. at school and haul around twice of what he normally carries just for your sake. Again, he would have to insist and try to sway you into letting him.

He’s always nagging at you to keep your arm propped up because he’s convinced it does SOMETHING and maybe takes the pressure off of your injury.

(This is more of a cute scenario lol) Anytime you dramatize pain, Ponyboy winces and makes that little ‘sss’ sound while you’re trying to hard to hold back your laughter.

He put off all roughhousing until you get that cast off and stayed committed to it.

You catch him giving you side glances here and there, but he’s only trying to make sure you’re not in a weird position or putting pressure on your arm.

THANK YOU FOR READING!! ❤️‍🩹

- Sophia 🫶🏼

[peanutheaddd]

favorite dog man book?

Oh anon. Ohhhhhh anon. You cant make me choose. Staring solemnly at the sunset. i cant . they all have their good parts.

id say top three are tale of three kitties, for whom the ball rolls, and mothering heights . unfortuantely cant rank within that list i think id explode .

stupid baka rant about every book below cut bc im fucking NEURODIVGERNEEE NNTTTTTTT FUCKKKKKKKKKK

ig book 1 and 2 wouldnt rank very high js bc theyre js silly. i love them obviously but it doenst even compare to the other books bc theyre js So compelling. theyre more lighthearted and thats ok w me . i like them bc dog man gets a lot of attention hehe ^_^ i love that guy

I Love tale of two kitties. i thnk its one of the most insightful books into petey and dms character along with obviously introducing lil petey as a character. tale of two kitties is one of the most influential books in my brain when im characterizing petey specificlaly but def dm as well. it just. realy perfeclty shows how petey doesnt have an onchalant bone in his body which is So important for how i personally characterize him. and it realy shows dms selflessness and how he took to fatherhood like a fish to water like . its just. So good in that aspect. drawing these parallels ig between them .

lord of the fleas has one of my fave petey moments of all time (lil petey saying wait you love me? and petey staring at him and saying PAY ATTENTION!) . also the book where he fully embraces father hood THANK GOD. dog man and cat kid was So fucking hard to read because petey was Such a piece of shit LMFAOOOOOOOO . 😭😭😭😭😭i was gen grimacing my way through the book

brawl of the wild has a special place in my heart bc its like the One book that actually addresses dog mans . identity crisis. peteys struggle here and him thinking hell always be bad is also very compelling. its also intersting bc he and dog man are both going through the same arc of having inner conflicts about ones own identity . i mostly like it for the rare dog man focus tho

for whom the ball rolls is easily one of my faves . Again for the dog man tidbit LMFAOOOOOOOOO. i love my goat i fear. specifically him jumping on petey when he comes to hsi house to get lil petey . lit that one scene inspired me to write a whole ass fic LMFAOOOOOOOOO . also has one of my fave petey scenes (lil petey says u love me ? and petey responds WELL DUHHHH. also the scene where lil petey says you abandoned me once. and i forgave you! and grampa breaks smth and petey just. Holds him. I could probably write an essay on this scene i fear.) and obviously its the book that made the detey coparenting dynamic explicit GOD BLESS. also has my Fave ending sequence of all time . (petey telling lil petey that the world could never be a bad place bc hes in it Like are you fucking kidding me? I hate you petey the cat. fuck my life)

fetch 22 had some funny parts (petey saying WE ARE NOT VISITING GRAMPA! and the next ch splash page is titled VISITING GRAMPA) also lil petey messing around w grampa AS HE SHOULD. also the petey washing flip e rama LMFAOOOOOOOO . ofher than that it was js ok 2 me. it felt similar to book 1 and 2 smth more lighthearted. i think the molly arc was So good. the part where she moves the single branch was awesome. i think the message is great.

grime and punishment was Incredibly important for navigating peteys grief .its all pretty much just . written there in the book tho like its pretty obvious so idk what more i can say about it .

Mothering heights. Oh mothering heights. My fucking life bro. My fucking life. dont even get me fucking started. i wrote literally a whole paragraph about mothering heights in someones rb tags once. the EXPLICIT petey and grace parallels. petey giving lil petey and molly their stupid snack and drinks even tho theyre driving him nuts which Really drives home how much hes changed since the beginning of the series. obviously had the awesome criticism of the us justice system DAV PILKEY WIN. really just driving home this idea that petey never Wanted to be a criminal . So important for his character . the grace and lil petey and petey paralleles. Fuck. fuckkkkkkkkkkk M y. life. and obviously the peteys lab getting destroyed and him + lil petey moving in w dog man event. This books ending has inspired So many Awesome fucking fics. the number of fics ive read where the premise is after mothering heights where peteys living with dm WHAT WOULD I DO WO THIS EVENT DAWGGGGG

20k fleas was chill i think the best part was just again criticism of the us justice system which i fe HHHEAVYYYYYYY . other than that it was ok . i think it focused too much on the fleas for my liking Lmfao.

scarlet shedder was So fucking yaoi. LMFAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO gayest fucking dm book i genuniely was staring at my svreen in horror MUTLIPLE times bc i was actually like dav pilkey Has to be doing this on purpose . i get that a lot of peteys actions were motivated primarily by lil petey and not dm but if he hated him even close to the amt he did at the beginning of the series he would Not have sacrificed ss much as he did. But even thenthere are still events where . their actions are completely unrealted to lil petey but still SOOOOOO FUCKING. CARING !?!?!?!!??! dog man getting sentenced and petey getting mad on his behalf like. Bro what ? You cant be fucking serious. Do you have a crush on him. IDIOT. HIS STUPID ASS. also petey getting dm out of the jail truck and dm is smiling SOOOOOOO FUCKING WIDE when he sees petey like BRO YOU CAAAANNOOOOTTT BE FOR REAL GENUINELY. most yaoiful book in the entire fuckign series gen hoooo my god.

[lovelykil]

DUDE…. Kyle and Stan reacting to there S/O asking for hand pics… (I have a rlly weird fucking hand fetish, my bad 😭)

─Headcanons─

kyle & stan x reader older ver.

hc; asking for hand pics

cw; none

note; HELPP no cs me too......... ermm anyway 😊 ⤵

Kyle—

omg his hands are pale, nice, and slender

Big but not too much, and they are surprisingly soft.

I say surprisingly because he plays basketball.

You'd think they're maybe rough.. they are– he just uses lotion to make his hands soft to the touch

Makes him feel better and clean

Anyway

You LOVEE his hands you sometimes just admire them as he helps you with homework.

Your gaze was drawn as he moved the pencil across the paper, his hand guiding the tool. Some veins faintly appeared as he did so.

You couldn't help but imagine what he could do with them right now if he wasn't blabbering about math homework.

Alright now the GOOD STUFF

As any other person who was just asked if they can send hand pics, he is very much flabbergasted.

He was just writing an essay for his English class when he saw the text, he was so CONFUSED and concerned.

disclaimer I didn't know what the hell to do for usernames so matching it was 🤦🏾‍♀️

He stared at his phone like

'😧' and then '🤨'

Why do you want a hand pic???

For what reason would you send that for 😭??

Well..

He got his answer ☠️

His face IMMEDIATELY went red, setting down his phone to process this situation.

It took like 2 minutes for him to calm down before he took a breather and grabbed back his phone.

He opened his camera and set his hand on his desk, trying to figure out a good camera angle.

I don't know why but bro was stressing

But he finally got a pic he was sorta okay about 🫶🏾

His brain process during this was just all like

what the hell

Why

Why

No I don't like this angle, how about this way

My hand looks stupid she's gonna hate it :(

WHY IS SHE EVEN INTO THIS ANYWAY

I am dating a weirdo.

Anyway he opened back your chat and sent it after a few uncertain seconds.

BARKBARKVAK4KEKKEES

okay sorry, that is literally how I see his hands

so yummy 🤤

After that text message sent, he set that phone down so fast.. and immediately went to type back on his laptop again.

He wasn't too crazy about this request though nothing would compare to when you asked for that whimper audio from him.

He still thinks about it till this day, wanting to die inside

It's okay tho cause you were happy :3

anyway on your end when you saw his notification pop up, you clicked on it FAST

thirsty ass mf

The way you grinned so hard was insane, you were kicking your feet and giggling when you clicked on the photo.

You saved it to your camera roll to add to the rest of the hand pics you secretly had of Kyle..

He doesn't know about this and never will

You went back to your messages with him and texted back

something is purring

and it is not a cat.

Stan—

He wears rings (ohohohoo)

His hands are rough and have calluses from playing his guitar.

Not too rough though just a neutral rough if that even makes sense

When you guys hang out he sometimes likes playing for you

SOMETIMES.

he's a lil shy, he practices alot to play for you so he doesn't look like an idiot.

Sooo that's why his hands are so rough. But you kinda liked it anyway?

The way his chipped black nail-polished fingers strummed his guitar made your stomach do the thing.

Plus his sliver and black rings?

Oh god

It's just the way he glides his fingers tbh I swear

Like play with me like the way you play your guitar 🫤!!

☠️

anywho

Stan was laying in bed, scrolling on TikTok

The usual when he can't sleep and you were already asleep.

Well he thought you were asleep, you sent him a gn text??? But he received a text message 20 minutes later

He's in a little blushy blushy mess now.

What will he do? Send the pic so his gf can rest peacefully? If you said yes...

WRONGG

I'm jk

Idk kinda almost chill wit it? But he definitely felt a little vomit come up in his throat from you thinking of him.

I mean he cares a little like why would you ask that 😭

But it's late so he doesn't really question it

In the pitch dark he snapped a photo of his hand, checked to see if it looked decent then sent his pic.

His rings were off in his 1 😞

but nonetheless you smiled hard, when you saw the picture

Something about his hands screamed

LOSERR that or I just have a problem

but in a hot way ofc, he's a loser but your loser

You giggled like a whore, getting yourself comfortable on your bed.

You then replied back

😭😭

[g0dwat3rwritings]

i rewrote this ask like three times already trying to word it perfectly lmao. fem!yuu x octavinelle (separately). the pair attends NRC’s annual winter ball together as friends, though they’re both unaware of their mutual crushes on each other. at the end of the ball azul/floyd/jade confess their feelings!! also if possible could yuu’s dress be based on either ariel’s pink one or cinderellas original one (the silvery one) if any part of this was unclear pls feel free to message me and i’ll clear it up! my brains literally melting rn bc i just finished this horrible essay for history and tbh atp im just word vomiting everything out 😭😭

This is my second time writing this, I lost all of my progress the first time 😭

I had so much fun with the second version of Jade's part 💀

@nisobird 🚨🚨azul🚨🚨

Warnings ;; none

Relationship ;; Platonic, turned Romantic

Type ;; Short Story/One-Shot

OCTAVINELLE

Azul Ashengrotto ;; Octavinelle Housewarden ;; Second Year

You were late, and Azul was panicking. Why were you late? Did you just not want to see him? Were you just blowing him off? Azul as terrified of you not coming, not wanting to see him.

Upon seeing the doors open, revealing you, in a dress similar to that of the Sea Princesses, Azul's jaw dropped. He straightened his back upon seeing you come his way.

He gave a small laugh, "well.. you look.. wonderful." You couldn't help the small laugh that came from you, "Thank you. You can blame Vil, he wouldn't let me come in a normal outfit." You laughed.

Azul gave a laugh in return, holding his hand out toward you upon hearing a slow song start overhead. "May I.. have this dance?" He asked, obviously nervous for your response.

You gave a smile and took his hand, "You may." Azul smiled and led you to the dance floor, one hand gliding toward your hip, and the other taking your own hand.

As you danced, he cleared his throat. "If I may, I have something to tell you." You nodded, motioning for him to continue. He gave a small, nervous chuckle. "I think I... No, I know that I love you." He said quickly, before giving a sigh. "That.. wasn't as bad as I'd suspected." He said with a nervous laugh, awaiting your response.

With a small laugh and shake of your head, you responded. "I love you too, Azul."

Jade Leech ;; Octavinelle Vice-Housewarden ;; Second Year

You hung out with the tweel, not exactly fond of the dance floor, especially while wearing heels and a puffy, long dress. "Hey, Jade. Are you good at dancing?"

Jade gave a chuckle, "Why, I'd say I'm all right, but I wouldn't say I'm the best." He admitted, "Although, Floyd is a much better dancer than myself." Jade gave one of his normal, light chuckles.

"Despite how good my other half is at dancing, he finds it.. boring and uninteresting." Jade hummed, taking a sip from the punch he held in his hand.

You gave a laugh, "yeah, that sounds like Floyd." Jade simply nodded in response. "Say, may I talk to you after the ball is through? I have something to tell you." He told you, finishing off his punch.

Your brows furrowed in confusion, but you nodded nonetheless. After some more conversation with the eel, the ball was over and Jade guided you outside to somewhere quiet and concluded.

Jade turned to you, "I must admit to you that you are quite entertaining. Assuming you know my brother and I as well as you do, you know that we are very fond of those who are entertaining."

You listened, giving a nod toward the end. "Which is where I'd like to tell you that I-" A shout was heard from a tree, looking over, a fallen Floyd laid on his back at the bottom of the tree. "Oh, just tell 'em, stupid."

Jade and yourself couldn't help but laugh, "tell me what?" You asked. "I love you." He said simply, kissing your forehead lightly.

Floyd Leech ;; Octavinelle ;; Second Year

Floyd had even shocked himself upon asking you to this ball, he had no intent on even coming in the first place. But the idea of seeing you in a dress, all completely dressed up, had him in a chokehold.

"Woah. You look nice." Floyd blinked, and you laughed in response. "Thank you, Floyd." He nodded and held a cup of punch toward you, and you took it. You thanked him once more before taking a sip on it.

"Hey, Shrimpy." Floyd said, getting your attention. "Yeah? What's up?" You asked. "What do you say we get out of here?" You blinked, "Floyd, we both just got here." You said with a laugh. "I know, but if we stay any longer then Crabby or Little Mackerel will come up and steal you. So." He said, making a popping sound with his lips as he waited for your response.

You shook your head with a laugh and nodded, "alright, but where do you want to go?" Floyd shrugged, "I don't care." You laughed, before taking his hand and simply taking him back to Ramshackle.

His eyes were glued to his hand even after you'd gotten to Ramshackle. You snorted, "Floyd." You said, waving a hand in front of his face. "Huh?"

"what's up with you?" You laughed, and Floyd shrugged in response, simply resting his chin on your head. He spoke up after minutes of standing like that. "Hey, Shrimpy?" He said, "yeah?"

"Love you." He said simply, kissing the top of your head before reverting back to resting his chin on top of your head.

[mad-serotonin]

who are your top ten favorite black clover and ships? talk about them! (welcome back to the fandom, always loved your art)

I’m thinking you meant top 10 CHARACTERS and top 10 ships. Here’s the characters for now! I have another ask for ships and since that’s gonna take me a bit more time to really think about you’ll get those soon with that ask I promise!

My top 10:

1. Finral

Already talked about him in depth so I’ll let everyone else shine here lol

2. Magna

The manliest man. The actual best underdog character in Shonen. Like Tabata knew what he was doing during the Heart kingdom training arc. (Vague manga spoilers for spade arc) Having to work insanely hard to catch up to everyone when they can do something you can’t and finding a way to accomplish something no one else can do????? That’s such a real experience and he’s so admirable.

The literal best friend you could have in this world. He’s so silly and supportive and awesome. Design wise one of my fav character designs ever he’s so sick. I should probably make a solo post about him too cuz I could go deep into his character.

3. Rill

THE ARTIST’S BEST FRIEND!!!! I heart him so much and the approach to his upbringing was so beautiful. His destruction circling around a lack of direction and inspiration for his work is so insanely relatable. And just seeing him be so carefree and happy in battle creating art 😭 I wanna be him.

Winner for the Clover Kingdom’s best laugh. Cutest character design he is so fluffy and pastel. I want to see more of his magic it’s made some of the best battle scenes in the show with just how much freedom there is with its imagery.

He’s so baby I just love him. Also shout out to him for changing the squad name for azure deer from gray deer. I can’t remember if it was explicitly stated but I KNOW that he did that.

4. Asta

The boy of the hour. Honorary spot at #1 because he is the one of the most successfully written Shonen protagonists of his archetype. Really love taking the going for the top motivation and giving a depth to it outside of personal ambition and having the concentration be on changing the world for the better. The purest soul.

Asta is so important. He not only motivates and inspires EVERY. SINGLE. CHARACTER. within the story. But also inspires so many people irl. Like i literally think “would this make Asta proud” when I do stuff sometimes JSJDHDDHHD and it motivates me to get through rough times.

He’s a cutie patootie and he breaks all expectations for what characters would typically do when faced with conflicts like he is. He truly is one of a kind and brings out the best in everyone.

I absolutely love the aspect of his character where he’s literally everyone’s lil brother. He just cares and trusts everyone on his team and fights for them SIMPLY because they are teammates no questions asked. Every time I rewatch the series I just admire the effect he has on their world and how it spreads one step at a time with each adventure. So many things wouldn’t have been possible without him being himself in situations and setting people straight in understanding their world. (This fact stands true even if not considering the anti magic as a factor. It’s all him baby.)

5. Langris

UGHHHHH I could write another essay but I shan’t. He is such a wonderfully complex character who has been so forcefully shaped into a figurehead of a group that represents strength, giving him such a terrible egotistical, yet self loathing view of himself. And despite all of it he genuinely wants to love and be loved outside of those factors. He’s just a very confused kid who needs genuine support instead of ego-feeding elitist parents HDHDHDH.

I’m very passionate about him. And I am SO PROUD of his character development through the story. Especially with his relationship with Finral. (I will for sure write a whole separate essay discussing them sometime soon). He was written so well both in his antagonistic position which in my eyes was very much mostly out of his control (not completely he’s not totally excused ✋🏻). Seeing him make genuine effort to change his outlook and behavior to rebuild a healthy sibling relationship, to support his brother and motivate him to improve himself as well, AND to remove himself from a position of high status when he knows he’s no longer the one suited for it really just proves how much he has grown. His complexity in his character just makes him so interesting and I want to see him and Finral team up more please I beg there was not enough. HAHSHSHS

6. Luck

I always loved Luck’s story and the exploration on his ability to express his emotions as time goes on is so good. Like the elf battle always makes me SOB he’s so good. I genuinely am obsessed with his friendship with Magna they are the best duo ever. He’s such a lil weirdo and his antics are just so perfectly lil brother energy to the rest of the squad. I will say Tabata had PEAK WRITING with his unwavering fear in battle that made the perfect set up for the seriousness of the Spade arc when they show him not wanting to fight ABSOLUTELY beautiful setup and reward right there. He’s a baby boy who doesn’t need to be protected but I want to anyways.

7. Klaus

OUR 👏🏻 KING 👏🏻 OF 👏🏻 CHARACTER 👏🏻 GROWTH👏🏻! Literally perfection how this man goes from prickly noble to Asta and Yuno’s number 1 fan. He has the perfect older brother energy and really became just an absolute sweetheart. I adore his support for Asta so much it always makes me laugh when they pan to him doing some weird stuff in hopes that it helps him out.

His magic is also so cool and damn I wish Tabata would give him some more badass spells because he could do SO MUCH. Give him a suit of magic armor mayhaps idk but it’s such a fun magic for him. Also design wise I love his hair and his features are just so pleasing. ESPECIALLY during the elf arc my god he looked like a model. I just think he’s very pretty HDHXHDHD. BUT YES an absolute king and deserves all the love.

8. Mars

Oooooo we need more of him in the manga. I swear the coolest dudes are underutilized this man is so sick. I love Mars’ story and I’m so glad that he reocurred in the story the way he did. He was really the perfect set up for the diamond kingdom being in the plot at all. But he himself. AN ABSOLUTE SWEETHEART he’s so good. He and Fana are precious together and I really admire his strength and commitment to his goals throughout his whole story. He had some of the coolest magic and I desperately need a Mars and Asta team up with their massive swords.

One of the best character designs from silhouette, outfit, colors and all. He is very handsome and just a cool dude overall. Y’all need to make more fan art of him I don’t see enough. I’ll make some too I promise.

9. Leopold

The king of not being in the story enough. For REAL he is so powerful and cool and he’s one of Asta’s rivals too I NEED a triple team up of him asta and yuno it would be FIRE absolute pun intended hehe

I love how straightforward he is, he’s so motivated and such a strong mage. I hope he gets to lead the crimson lions one day he absolutely deserves the position. He is the best friend of best friends. Being supportive of Asta from the start and being one of the least “noble” of all the other squads immediately solidified him as a favorite to me. And he just continued to kick butt and be a cool lad. His power is fun and I desperately wanna see him make full blown fire tornadoes NSHXHDH it would be SICK. but yeAH he is such an awesome character and a perfect rival and I think he deserves more screen time. I will for sure be drawing him again soon.

10. Yami

That’s our DAD 🫵🏻

God I will say this with all the confidence in the world he is the BEST WRITTEN DANG TEAM LEADER in Shonen. Like Tabata really said let this silly goofy man rescue all of these outcasts and be their dad and help them grow and I cannot handle any moment from any character without thinking about Yami’s influence. HE HAS DONE SO MUCH FOR EVERYONE.

The smartest idea ever translated from brain to paper was making this man a walking poop joke. LIKE INGENIOUS. I always find it funny and I always will. Make this absolute badass a true dad. He poop and he make bad joke. Honestly the funniest character.

His story from what I’ve gotten to is so interesting. It was so worth the wait to get to see more about him but even so his story just in the clover kingdom is so wonderful. I love how he really sets up the themes Asta stands for before he even gets to the squad. Where all of the change in the kingdom that happens wouldn’t have been done without him (a foreigner) and his whole team of unloved and unwanted individuals who were seen as worthless. Literally showing the world how wrong they are. Yami is best dad and he always will be.

Special shout out to William, Vanessa, and Gordon they deserve to be up here. Also David cuz I think he’s pretty and I love his magic but he is SO background character it hurts.

In the end I would have loved to talk about more of them but It’s hard picking favorites with this show. Literally everyone is written so well and I love them.

Thank you for the ask sorry if i went on a tangent a couple times LOL

[hsrlanedefencesquad]

Y'all HSR is so good, like I don't think y'all understand. I genuinely think no one loves it as much as me

I love all the LIs, even though I might not romance them all right now, every single one of them are so beautiful physically, it's crazy....I never thought any other author could out-pretty remy's LIs lol (I think the only gripe I'd have with it, is Anna is the only single female LI....& now this addition of Abel as a male LI when we already had Boris & several male LIs, idk it seems too much. Like give the wlw players one more female LI, please aleksandra 🙏🏾🙏🏾)

Other than that, everything is perfect....my main route - I'm romancing cain, the 2nd slot goes to dmitry (he is honestly not talked about enough, he ate this update up!!!) I would rant about how much I love these two but this post would turn into an essay & I still have a lot to talk about

3rd slot goes to Greg!!! Definitely!!! Hello??? he would have honestly been my main LI if Cain didn't exist (curse me and being drawn to mysterious fucked up men 😭)

First of all, no shade to other rc black men, but I want to say a big THANK YOU to Aleksandra for not making him the typical grumpy or brooding rc black man (no, like what's up with that?, Although cassiel is my main LI in ABH, he gets a pass sorry 😭) I feel like only greg & that one guy in 7b are happy sunlight vibes black men in the whole of rc...

That and she made him so physically HOT without the addition of ridiculous european eye colours (evthys swenett jumpscare & luc- *gunshots*) & he doesn't have that oh so annoying grey undertone? (cassiel once again you get a pass) like Greg is the embodiment of a ray of sunshine. Which is also good because Sasha didn't just relegate him to some goofy black side character, no I'm actually impressed he was the main general or whatever, after dmitry & he actually has an emotional back story with his sister (I feel like his romance route will be so emotionally hard because it will be one of the major factors that will force lane to feel conflicted between humanity & her dark side) heartbreak & tears are coming, I fear

Overall the book is just SO GOOD, it deadass feels like I'm watching a horror movie or sometimes like I'm with the characters seeing everything happening to them from afar, it's so immersive....sometimes cozy AF, NGL I hope they don't move away from their snowy/dead climate background in coming seasons. I think that's a major contribution to the way the story gets players to feel

The writing is amazing for a new author, man I don't want HSR to end but I am absolutely seated for the next work from this author