#i fucking hate pity votes more than anything

[j2zara]

we must ask. which jaceclone jace is meanest to. my vote is j3. i think he pities j2's love for porter and understands j4's rage at him. but j3's desire makes him so mad.

OH NO YOURE RIGHT N U SHOULD SAY IT. I 100% think that Jace is the nastiest to j3, n that isnt j3’s fault but I do think is egged on by the fact that j3 is so averse to taking anything seriously.

I do legit think Jace is a bit too scared of j4 to take things out on her in the same way. He would never ever ever ever admit to being scared of his own clone but. He is. He understands her rage. He’s been there. He worries it honestly might be more intense than anything he’s ever felt for Porter. It frightens him.

And pitying j2 doesn’t stop him from getting the brunt of it sometimes bc Jace does hate him and he’s so fucking jealous that he feels like he made Porter’s perfect acolyte and now j2 gets that, why would Porter want him when he could have j2. But at the same time I do just think Jace is biased in being able to recognize J2’s humanity just a bit more, like, he sees himself he sees a person. this is how I used to be this is me falling into the same trap but is a person that I let down. I did this to him. He is me, he would’ve turned out the same way regardless, which in another way is also my fault. Like I do think in his mind the way j2 got fucked over is something Jace considers to be one of his biggest failures and it breaks his heart a little and it doesn’t stop him from imposing everything onto j2! He still trusts j2 with Porter more than the others bc he knows j2 will care! He hates j2 for getting everything he’s denying himself and jr doesn’t stop him from putting everything onto j2. He’s so pitiable and yet Jace is not going to save him.

And like. I don’t think Jace understands the full scope of what it happening to j3. Like. Yes he’s furious with j2 for getting everything with Porter that he wants, but j2 gets all the turmoil and the heartbreak and the looking past him wishing it was a version of Jace always out of reach. And it’s like. J3 the little bitch gets Porter but without all the mess of attachment. All the good stuff. And there is a level of disgust of like. God j2 yearns so earnestly meanwhile j3 is so dog humping a boot. And j2 is the intermediary for everyone so Jace’s interactions w/ j3 are so limited like. On the one hand he KNOWS himself. He knows if that were him he would also be clawing at the walls desperate for enrichment. That was him. It’s why he was reeled in. But also he doesn’t want to look at how desperate j3 is. On the outside he sees j3 flirting with his soulmate right in front of him and is like. God you’re fucking shameless. Like seriously??? (Something something you knew how to twist the knife then and you do now. You were my onion. You are my onion). But it’s like. That’s all he has! It’s what he was built to do! Can you blame me for this? I’ve always been the body. And like. The thing is that j3 is of Jace, and Jace doesn’t want to look at the fact that his desires are just as dark as j3’s. J3 is hungry just like Jace. So he has to pretend that j3 sucks because he’s getting all the benefits of fucking Porter and none of the blowback. And unlike j2 who cares about Jace and has the heart to feel bad, j3 is literally reaping Porter’s resentment and want for Jace and redirecting it. But it’s all he has! It’s all he has! J3 doesn’t even care about the Plan, does he? Jace could never trust him with Porter the way he trusts J2. At least j2 loves Porter. And spitefully, maybe he knows deep down and gets some satisfaction at the thought that J2 is working himself to the bone the way he used to and is still getting looked past every single day. But J3 gets to be hot and fun and do all the things that Jace would put his foot down on and he doesn’t even have to try. Jace tried to deny porter access to himself and now J3 has made that pointless? Fuck j3 actually. J3 is fucking Porter and doesn’t know what that means. You can’t blame him tho, can you? It’s the only thing that feels right. If his brain has directions mapped onto it on how to climb his bosses soulmate like a tree, and he’s only here for so long? Why would he deny himself? They both know how obsolete he is. Jace can hate him but he’ll take that too. If he wants to live, he’s going to goddamn live.

[harus-simp]

How do you feel about Haru getting eliminated ? T-T i feel so upset abt him getting eliminated

I'm so so so pissed, upset, sad and angry you don't have any idea.

Like throughout the show he has done everything to portray his talents (which he did amazingly).

First on LMR team his rap was amazing, like his tone and the way his voice went up and down was so unique I loved it, and imo compared to junghyeon it was better (I'm still salty g group didn't won that one because I keep repeating Jay's high note and the raps every fucking day).

Then Zoom, his rap was so fun to watch as well, his "nuh uh" leaves in my head rent free I swear to God, and his dance break was great too!! (Like my boy was slaying). And it was a pity as well because Zoom deserved to win that one, it left an impact on me, not like Law didn't but I think that Zoom was so fun to watch that I forgot about the others (why can't something fun win for once?)

And then Supercharger, OMG. At first I found the song quite strange but the more I listened to it the more I liked it, like the "supercharger, super supercharger" was stuck on me. And taking into account that he started from zero because haruto was the only one left from the previous elimination and they did what they did in 3 days (are you hearing that, 3 FUCKING DAYS) I find more admirable his work than anyone else there.

I think that haruto has suffered from being placed into teams that gave amazing performances but in terms of popularity not the best, so you know what fans do 💀💀💀

So yeah I'm really really really mad because people should have voted for him, but instead they voted for like gyuvin and yujin? Not to hate them but they aren't ready to debut yet! I don't see them standing out too much, like they aren't bad of course ,but they just don't say anything to me. Besides yujin is too young, he's my cousin's age and I see them as literal kids 💀

But yeah, those are my thoughts :)

[cryptid-in-your-closet]

Unpacking Pt.1 Javy

The air in the pickup was tense, charged with the uncomfortable air that comes along with all teenagers as they become aware of their emotions but don’t know how to express them. When they pull up outside of Jake’s house he glances at Javy, who immediately after parking has started to pick at his jeans. Well if he’s not going to say anything Jake sure will. 

“So we’re not doing this right?” 

Javy looks relieved, “absolutely not, I mean you’re attractive but this whole date has felt like I’m taking out one of my sisters.”

Jake snorts, “good, I’m way out of your league anyway.” 

“Shut up.”

“You’re just scared of the truth.”

Javy rolls his eyes and Jake feels glad the awkward tension that had followed them from the movie theater was gone now. Javy was his best friend, nothing more, and he’d hate to lose him. 

Jake knows he should probably go inside, his curfew is just minutes away, but something else nags at him.

“Javy?”

“What?”

“I’m not a girl. I’m a boy.”

It’s blunt. Blunter than anything else he’s ever confessed. And Jake has always been pretty blunt, to the point that Javy is one of his only real friends because he scares off everyone else. The truth is out there now so maybe he doesn’t even have Javy anymore. But Jake had to get it out, it’s a bandaid that’s been stuck to his skin for 17 years, he had to rip it off quickly or it was going to be even more painful.

Javy looks confused, his eyebrows pulled together, “what do you mean?”

Jake feels like shriveling up and dying. He needs this to go well. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if it doesn’t. 

“I’m transgender. Born in the wrong body. Dysphoria. All that jazz. I understand if that makes you uncomfortable and you don’t want to hang out with me anymore, but please, Javy, please don’t tell anyone. Especially not my parents.” 

That’s something Jake is willing to beg on his hands and knees for. He doesn’t need his uber-Christian parents who have the perfect suburban home with two kids and a dog to realize their perfect family is flawed. 

Javy looks more concerned than confused now, “hey, no. You think I’d drop you because you’re a dude? I have plenty of guy friends. You're my best friend, why would this change that?”

A warmth is building in Jake’s chest, he might not be losing his best friend for this, “I mean, I’m a trans guy. Some people think it’s defying god or nature or some shit.” 

“And when in our friendship have you seen me hate someone because god told me to?”

That was fair. Javy, and his family, were devoted Christians, his mother and father attending church nearly every Sunday, but unlike Jake’s parents, they taught nothing but christlike love. 

“You never know.”

The look he got for that was bordering on pity. 

Javy slid across the bench so he could pull Jake into a hug, “look, nothing, and I mean nothing, especially you just being yourself, could make me hate or dislike you. You’re basically my,” Javy hesitated, “brother? Is that okay?” 

It was like someone had poured pure warmth over Jake, his heart felt like beating out of his chest to dance, and embarrassingly tears were springing to his eyes, thank god his head was buried in Javy’s shoulder. “Yeah, brother is good.”

“Okay, good. Then you’re my brother, I’m not giving you up for anything. I’m here for you, through the good and bad.”

Yeah, Jake was full-on crying at that point. 

“Also, I amend my earlier statement, you’re attractive but I’m not going to date my brother. And not just because I’m straight. Because you’re my brother. Like. That’d be weird. If I dated my brother.”

“Javy?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

-

A/N: Thanks for reading part one of Unpacking. I'm still working on writing the rest but it keeps getting longer so I decided to just split it into parts. I'm working on my other WIPs so those should be coming soon now that I have finals done. Thanks to everyone who wished me well on my finals I did good and I'm pretty proud of myself.

For the people who voted for this one here you go: @strawberryspittz @lemons2llamas @kinkyslytherinking

[pt2]

[f0xd13-blog]

Crackei

It says "thank you fifa foh remembering about me" pfffff até me cuspi

Yall those are my vousins. Madonna is just their copycat in fact you know who she reminds me of? Every annoying queer kid with discolored or colored hair that thinks they invented something because it is queer or wtv... worst than that is the way she looks like if that tumblr chick molly soda or molly refriferante appeared to say that she invented the internet.

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A post shared by FC MOTIVATE | Football Motivation | Football Training (@_fcmotivate)

I think he should get fired anyways... that's how i get it

The amount of exuceses are wild we can go from every angle and he will still be carried by someone saying something really stupid even if it's just to make me pity petty him?

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Ihihih it is so funny in fact coz it gets to a point you can only laugh with your barefeet on the ground.. get it? Ahahahah anyways tell becky that proving anything doesn't even make sense because people should just use common sernse and it is every storyline ever enough of proving wtv beca

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No comparance

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I've already prove time and time again that we are the best at our own game sorry. You can try to manipulate history all you want in the end of the day only the product is fucked. I see just one or three people watching the game inside the coffee shops.

IMPORTANT!!!

JUST COMMENTED 3 TIMES AND THE COMMENTS WERE AUTOMATICALLY DELETED: she also killed more people than the supposed fake number of jews killed at the holocaust, said number given by poland

You can't even say the holocaust wasn't like they say it was. You can't say what is happening in the world. What is this called? Fascism

Look at that jewish creepy palestra thing. They all look like angels when speaking but it is so creepy you can totally notice it's fake.

On another note arca is now running pages again this time around they are trying to donna del pop madonna ahahahhaha

She invented lolipos ahahhaha. Fr now look at madonnas performance skills, listen to her music... are you fr comparing that to MJ? This gotta be the best joker told through the years coz nobody evee snaped out of the reality madonna ain't shit she is just a bubblegum pop singer that made it somehow but should have disappeared from the public eye long time ago lol

Like i swear i sometimes laugh by myself just thinking about this situtation like looking back analizing shit and come to the conclusion she is the biggest con artist in the world and people just let her do her shit because dduhhh she was never that important to be noticed that deeply or to make people hate her just coz she was having success but like think about it on a deep level for real... i bet if you do and more people do it i'll have a world of harlequins laughing with me about this... because fr how did we even let this happen? Ahahaha it's so funny

[cdroloisms]

haha your snippit abt the dispenser got me thinking.

Dream gets let out of prison and he talks constantly, whatever is on his mind. And he's positive all the time. To a fault where people walk over him. And it doesn't make sense because he was tortured right???? But after an incident they find out it's because he hates the sound of silence and needs constant reminders that other people are there. Also he was punished for any negative emotions in the prison so his default is happy now,,,

hi anon !! this concept makes me SO goddamn sad ,, the idea that he Has to be happy bc anything else would mean punishment im so *punches the walls*

this ,, ficlet is honestly. pretty ooc, not really related to the ask at all, and mostly an excuse for me to cry abt c!dream and c!punz for an excessive amount of time (technically the vote on twitter was supposed to have this as c!sapnap pov, but i just wrote one for him so i went for c!punz instead. mostly bc i wanted to write him LMAO). hopefully someone enjoys it despite *gestures vaguely* all of that mess

tw: trauma, disordered eating, implied torture/abuse, blood, injuries, unhealthy coping mechanisms, emotional distress, thoughts of murder/mercy killing, mentioned animal death, dark content

In the end, it’s all rather anticlimactic, the complete opposite of Dream’s vault and the whole fiasco of adrenaline and theatrics that had made up that day. Quackity ended up having one too many drinks, bragged about the wrong thing to the wrong person - Punz doesn’t know the specifics, only knows that one thing has led to another and suddenly Sapnap was screaming at his ex-fiancé, sword pointed at his chest and tears streaming down his eyes in the middle of the Community House floor, everyone else stood around and watching. A look into Quackity’s office said everything he didn’t - the chests and chests of used and new tools, shiny and sharpened and completely rusted over with blood and everything in between. There’s been a balled up shirt in the wastebasket, completely unsalvageable from how saturated it was with blood, more red than white, and perhaps most chilling of all the calendar, marked with X after X in red pen, going back months and speaking to their utter failure to see what had been happening all but right in front of them.

With Quackity down, Sam caved not too long after, and with his input getting into the prison was no challenge at all. The only thing holding them back were bad memories and the tense, worried edge to Sam’s jaw as he led the small group of them - himself and Sapnap, actually entering the facility, Bad and Puffy waiting outside - carrying them through winding corridor after winding corridor and lava pit after lava pit, until they’d come to stand before a chasm filled with flowing lava, slowly draining before the main cell.

“I- I have to warn you,” Sam had muttered, uncharacteristically hesitant, “it looks…pretty bad,” and Punz would’ve questioned him further, but the lava had fallen far enough to reveal the topmost edge of the cell, so they let Sapnap hound the Warden for information as they directed their full attention on the cell itself and holy shit.

Nothing Sam said could’ve possibly have prepared them for the sight - it was a complete fucking bloodbath, crimson painting the walls and smeared over the floor and splattered over every visible surface like some abstract art experiment gone wrong. The stench of iron and burning flesh and viscera was awful, even over the gap marked by the still-draining lava. Punz strained his eyes; at the very back of the cell, huddled, unmoving, was a similarly bloodstained shape that must’ve been Dream. They remember the crack of Sapnap’s knuckles meeting Sam’s face and breaking his nose, remember themselves chucking a pearl and feeling along Dream’s neck desperately for a pulse - everything beyond that became a swirl of voices and panic and crying that makes their head hurt to think about, so they don’t.

Recovery is…messy. The physical side had been bad enough - pulling Dream out of the cell, barely breathing, limp in his arms and far too light, all Punz could think about was a sheep he’d found a year ago, frail and struggling to breathe, one he’d ended up killing - quick and painless - with a sword through the skull because it seemed kinder than letting it suffer. Watching Dream struggle on the bed, laid up in Bad’s mansion because none of them knew if he’d survive going any further, body resisting the potions they’d slowly forced down his throat after being so over-saturated on them, temperature spiking and heat baking into his skin like the lava from the prison had been imprinted onto his body, Punz feels the same strange mixture of pity and unease, wonders if it’d be a hell of a lot kinder if they just put him out of his fucking misery.

Still, because Dream is a stubborn bastard, against all odds, he ends up surviving - his fever breaks, the potions begin taking effect, and a few tireless, aching days later his eyes flutter open, lucid for the first time in a week. Punz isn’t even in the room when he wakes, only knows that it happens because the too-quiet room suddenly erupts in noise and activity, muffled thumps and sounds of a struggle undercutting Bad’s frantic calls for someone to help, anyone, and they run into the room to find Dream thrashing on the bed, wounds reopened and blood dripping onto the sheets, eyes wild and wide as his head whips from side to side so hard Punz is half-afraid that he’ll straight up break his neck. Somehow, worst of all, not a single scream falls from his lips, nothing but muffled whines squeezing past his mouth, clenched shut, and for a singular, awful second they wonder how long it took before he realized that screaming was useless.

Fortunately enough for them, or unfortunately, it’s not like he can tell the fucking difference anymore, the panic and strain end up with Dream passing out altogether, and they trade uneasy glances with Bad before going to clean off the worst of his wounds. If everything they’re doing feels hopeless, dressing up wounds that’ll be torn open hours later when Dream is awake enough to feel fear but not much else because he’s forgotten what it’s like to not be afraid - well, that’s for them to think and everyone else to pretend not to agree with.

Weeks pass along the same vein - Dream wakes up, panics; they try to calm him down, fails; he falls back into unconsciousness, and they move on and pretend that they’re cleaning up wounds from battle and not from someone that’s literally been tortured for months on end. People stop by, occasionally; Puffy spends more time than not inside the mansion, but hardly ever enters the door into Dream’s room, Sapnap and George drop by occasionally with potion brewing supplies that the rest of them can’t go out to get; once, he’d gone out to the front door to find a chest with an enchanted golden apple, sender nowhere in sight. He knows that the server is busy; Quackity’s admission had brought more than a few secrets to light, and from what they understand, the political fallout has been pretty damn messy. Still, he stays in the mansion, and watches.

He doesn’t exactly know why he stays. They’re not a stellar healer, not beyond what they know to dress their own wounds, and spend most of their time doing odd-and-ends tasks for Bad, who looks more tired than ever. Maybe it’s because he’s seen Dream at his worst more than the rest of them, had been there through his entire fall from grace, watched as his eyes became clouded with anger and madness and a single, desperate hope that he’d chased at the cost of his world and himself. Maybe it’s because they have no ties to the rest of the server - not to Las Nevadas, falling apart under the scrutiny of the eyes that now fall upon it, not Snowchester, caught up in the chaos, not the Badlands, half-dissolved after the fiasco of the Egg and with Sam’s actions having just come to light. Maybe it’s because above everything else, he feels guilty.

They’d thought the prison was the answer. It’d seemed too simple, back in that Vault - a perfect answer, because everyone else was perfectly happy to watch Dream die another time and some part of them had clenched painfully at the thought even thought they knew it was for the best. The prison meant that he’d be alive, if angry, and at some point when he had the time or the nerve or the guts he could go and visit, and they would talk, and Dream would be angry but with time maybe he could even understand.

They hadn’t wanted this. He can’t imagine anyone wanting this.

“Punz?” They don’t jump at the voice at their back, they don’t, but Bad still has a tiny, tight-lipped smile when they turn around anyway, eyes creased in the corners and still not as bright as they’d been before the Egg. Bad looks at him knowingly, setting a bowl of soup into his hands. “For Dream, if you can get him to eat.” He shifts a pointed gaze towards the door. “Maybe you two could talk.”

“About what?” The words come out harsher than they intend, and they take a moment to bite back the mostly self-directed anger that Bad doesn’t deserve to receive the brunt of. “I just-” he waves his hand in the air, trying to articulate the mess that is his relationship with Dream without the words to explain it. “I don’t know, man.”

“You don’t have to talk about everything,” Bad says, calm as always, eyes flicking down to the bowl of soup in his hands. “Just start with the soup.”

Punz sighs. “I’ll try.”

He enters the room in a single, fluid motion, mostly because he knows that if he were to stop at the door then he’d never actually make his way in. Dream flinches back when they enter, eyes going wide and stance going rigid, and the familiarity doesn’t make the sight any easier to bear as they wait, as always, for Dream’s eyes to clear enough for him to realize he’s in the mansion and not stuck in that same obsidian hellhole.

“I brought soup,” they say, finally, when Dream looks up. Dream’s lips twitch up in what he probably means as a smile; between the still-healing gashes on his face and the fear that flashes over his expression, still, it comes out as more of a grimace.

“Thanks.” Dream looks away. “I’ll eat it later.”

Liar, Punz thinks tiredly, moving closer to set the bowl down on the nightstand by the bed. They frown as Dream’s expression goes slack and distanced, again, eyes fixed to stare blankly at the wall once again.

“You should have some now,” he tries, careful to keep his words even. “You need the calories.”

“I’m good,” Dream says, automatic, just shy of sincere. “Thank you.”

“Dream,” they don’t quite succeed at keeping a displeased sigh from falling from their lungs, and bite back a curse at themselves when Dream pulls back with a silent flinch. It’s so goddamn hard, to talk to this version of Dream, both of them feeling around the edges of their relationship like walking on goddamn eggshells. A few months ago, he would’ve straight up called Dream out on his bullshit, get it through his thick skull that the whole ‘I’m fine and don’t need anyone’ act was stupid and completely failing to convince him. Here, they bite back another sigh, look forlornly at the bowl of the soup on the nightstand, sure to go uneaten once again, and force themselves to sound completely neutral when they speak again. “Alright. You’ll have to eat at some point, though.”

“Mmhm,” Dream hums noncommittally, once again staring at the wall. Punz stares at his hands. This is so fucking pointless.

“So,” they say after a few seconds, Bad’s words echoing in their head - they can try to make an effort to talk, sure. It’s just that Dream’s not going to cooperate. “How are you, man?”

The words come out stilted, awkward. He looks up to watch Dream’s expression, as the other man begins to gnaw on the inside of his cheek.

“I’m good,” he says, words deliberately light. “You?”

“Dream…”

“I’m fine.” Dream’s voice sharpens suddenly, breath hitching, before he shakes his head and turns his head away. “I’m fine.”

Punz looks at him incredulously. “Are you serious? Do we need to get into exactly how not-fine you are?” They wave a hand in his direction, jaw clenching when he rears back. “Do ‘fine’ people lose their minds from someone waving at them, now?”

“I-” For a second, Dream glares at him, eyes burning with a familiar, irritated fire that Punz knows all-too-well from having it directed at him a few too many times, before it suddenly dies and Dream is swinging his head back to the bedsheets, hands tightening on the cloth as he stammers. “I- What do you want?”

Punz breathes a soft sigh, regret blooming in the center of their chest. “Sorry,” he mumbles, careful to keep their gestures overly-telegraphed and away from the other man’s face. “I’m just- you’re not okay, man. No one’s expecting you to be okay after...all of that.”

“But why?”

Dream’s voice is small, nearly a sob, and Punz directs wide, alarmed eyes to where he’s hunched in over himself, knees pulled to his chest, hands staring at the sheets pulled over them. “Why?” he says, again, quieter, lip trembling slightly.

“Because you were tortured,” Punz begins, words slow as they watch Dream’s expression, trying to pull out the thoughts behind his averted eyes, “Because the cell was inhumane, and nobody deserves to be treated like that. Because you were hurt very, very badly because of what we did, and none of us are expecting you to be fine right after going through months of trauma.” He pauses. “You know that, right?”

“But I’m out,” Dream says, quiet, disbelieving, instead of answering their question. “I’m out of there. It’s over. It’s- everything’s good,” he whispers, more to himself than to them, hands curling into fists and then uncurling. “I’m- they said I would never get out. And I’m outside, and it’s not- not the cell, and I get real food, and Quackity doesn’t visit anymore,” he shakes his head, eyes squeezing shut as his breath catches in his throat. “I’m happy- I should be happy. Right?”

“Oh Dream,” the other man flinches back, breath quickening, and Punz’s hand stops short from where he’d almost let it fall onto the other’s shoulder. “You don’t have to be happy, man. Not- not after all of that. Not if you’re not ready yet.” Dream’s eyes, wide and wet, rise to look at their own, and they feel more than hear the soft, wounded noise that leaves their lips. “It’s ok to be hurt. It’s ok to be scared. No one’s blaming you, alright? No one’s gonna hurt you anymore.”

This, more than anything, seems to be the breaking point, because Dream collapses forward, hands flying up to pull at his tangled hair before Punz manages to ease them away and into his own hands, watching as he grips onto them until his knuckles go white. His breathing shudders, quiet, even his sobs muffled as to make as little noise as possible, and they murmur meaningless croons and hums as he cries into their chest.

“I wanna- I wanna be okay,” he hiccups, and Punz smooths his hair back behind their hand.

“I know,” he swallows around the lump that has risen in his own throat. “I’m sorry.”

[sleeping-on-cracking-ice]

heyo your imagines are amazing and i like reading them so much. i really appreciate you for writing for Alice in borderland as there isn’t a lot of content out there~ can you please write an imagine for niragi where the reader has been at the beach for quite the time and when she gets to know niragi she somehow falls for him because she sees right through him, and that he maybe starts to develop feelings for the reader too because she’s fearless and very confident. if it’s not too much trouble, could you make it a bit suggestive as well? thank you in advance~~

Of course I can! I’m not the best at writing with suggestive themes so I’ll try my best! 😅 I’m sorry but I changed the story line a little bit for it to fit more, so I hope this is still kind of what you had in mind.

Unlovable | Suguru Niragi

{Alice In Borderland Masterlist}

Character(s): Niragi (ft. Ann, Aguni, Hatter, Mira, Chishiya, Arisu, Last Boss)

Summary: Niragi finally finds you, who loves him for who he is, well, not exactly. And he gets a bit too attached.

Warnings: toxic relationship, suggestive themes, a lot of gaslighting, obsessive themes, a little bit angsty, threatening, choking, swearing, name calling

Word Count: 3.2k

*reader is female

Author’s Note: Sorry this took a while to post. I was busy for the past couple of days so it’s kinda rushed 😣

“Y/N! Come quick!”

You jolted awake as Ann burst into your room, shaking the door frame from the force. You blinked your eyes to adjust to the light, looking at her dazed.

“What?” you murmured, sitting up and out of the comfy sheets on your bed. 

“The executives have called a meeting. They say it’s urgent,” she stressed, rushing up to the side of your bed and ripping the duvet off of you.

You shivered and sighed loudly in disappointment. “Why? It’s too early for this shit,” you whined, rolling back onto your side and closing your eyes again. These urgent emergency meetings have become ridiculous, always taking place in the morning when everyone’s still sleeping. You would gladly have quit having the higher place at The Beach if it meant for you to have some peace and quiet.

“Now!” Ann pushed again. You groaned in annoyance and got out of bed. She seemed serious, so you didn’t want to anger her more.

You both quickly made your way to the top floor where the meeting room for the executives was located. You noticed Ann’s heavy breathing and worried expression, making you anxious as to what she thinks could have happened.

Hatter had left the night before to replenish his visa, having a big celebration as he drove off with Aguni and a few more of his men. Things had been becoming more tense as time went on. It felt wrong watching Hatter drive away so reluctantly. You offered to assist him in his game, seeing as you earned yourself a high number at The Beach from clearing many difficult games yourself. But Hatter declined, insisting that he would return to The Beach safe and sound before you knew it.

But unfortunately, he was wrong.

You and Ann rushed into the large room. You saw Arisu and Chishiya standing near the end of the table placed in the middle of the room. You strolled over to them and laid eyes on the scene before you.

There, Hatter laid dead on the table. Limbs spread out lifeless, skin pale and dead. The horrific sight made you feel sick, making you cover your mouth with your hand. The scene almost felt unreal, this shouldn’t have happened. Hatter wouldn’t be dead if you just went with him.

Ann walked over to his body to examine it, but before she even had the chance to touch the bullet wound embedded in his bare chest, Niragi barged into the room with his usual cocky and obnoxious aura filling the air like a bad smell.

“Oi, don’t touch him as you please. You dissection maniac,” he growled.

Your eyes followed him closely. Now that Hatter was gone, people like him could start dangerous trouble at the hotel. But, as long as you said something about it, you would make sure Niragi wouldn’t start any fires that he’s not willing to put out himself.

After all, you were the only person who knew his true self, and how he perceived everyone around him. It was pathetic really. In a way you took pity on him. Such a simple tactic for the brain to protect itself, become a heartless and cold monster towards others so no one could ever do the same to you again.

With Niragi, unfortunately it was hunt or be hunted.

You kept your strong gaze on him as he lifted his eyes to meet yours from across the table for a hot minute. His dark orbs glistened as they locked with yours, making the tension in the room become thicker as every second passed. He smirked in your direction before turning away.

“He was shot by a gun,” Ann stated, breaking the thick silence in the room. She looked over the small hole in his chest in fascination.

“What will happen to The Beach?” a young man asked who was standing nearby you. You stayed silent, not wanting to start anything that may end in chaos. You always had good points and valid arguments, but sometimes you knew when the best time was to bring them up. This was not it.

“I mean it’s only reasonable for the strongest to become the new leader!” Niragi exclaimed over everyone. “We need someone who can take good care of The Beach and keep order,” he yapped on, swinging his sniper rifle all around making a few people flinch when he aimed it at them.

You rolled your eyes at his behaviour. Trust him to be the most opinionated.

“I say, how about Aguni as our new leader,” he suggested, leaning forwards onto the table and watching everyone like a hawk. Aguni held no reaction, keeping his usual cold stone expression while having Niragi speak for him.

After no one reacted, all looking down to the ground to avoid Niragi’s gaze, he stood up straight and pulled a bored expression. “That’s not a good reaction,” he mocked, “Last Boss?”

You glanced over to where the hooded figure stood, watching in fear as he unsheathed his katana sword and rushed over to Ann, holding the deathly sharp blade a few inches from her throat. Your heart leaped to your mouth. If he was to try anything, you were ready to start chaos.

But nothing of the sort happened. Ann simply sighed frustratingly and held up her hand obediently. Niragi hummed, approving.

“This isn’t a majority vote,” Mira hissed from next to him.

Niragi stood and leaned his face close to hers, holding the barrel of his weapon close to her face to threaten her. “But it is! Isn’t it? After all, you’re all free to vote as well.”

One by one, he slowly circled the table, each person being scared for their life the closer he got to them. But you remained calm next to Chishiya, knowing that considering the relationship you have with Niragi, he wouldn’t do anything that would hurt you. He didn’t have the guts to.

As he moved from Chishiya, he finally locked eyes with you. He quickly strolled up to your still frame, stopping suddenly very close to you in an attempt to make you feel threatened. ‘As usual,’ you thought to yourself. ‘The old “I’m taller and bigger than you so I’m stronger” stupid tactic.’

“And what about you princess? Care to raise your hand for a vote for Aguni?” he hissed into your face. You held your neutral expression, becoming bored from this act he was putting on. It was purely for show, and yet wasn’t everyone’s personality? But Niragi, his act of this scary psychotic man angered you to your core.

“What if I don’t?” you snickered, walking towards him in an attempt of intimidation. He took a step back in shock. “It’s not like you need my precious vote, you already have so many.”

Niragi’s usual cocky smirk melted from his face, turning into a frustrated scowl. You felt him put his rifle underneath your chin, forcing you to lock eyes with him. “Be careful with that tongue of yours sweetheart, you wouldn’t want to lose it,” he growled quietly.

His threat made you smirk, almost bringing butterflies into your stomach. “I think you should be more concerned about that head of yours. You wouldn’t want to get it stuck too far up your own ass.”

You flinched as you felt his rough hand shoot from his rifle to your neck, instantly tightening around your throat making you widen your eyes in surprise. You lifted your arm and gripped his wrist in case he tightened his hold anymore. The look on his face was deathly. If looks could kill, you’d be already a few years into the afterlife.

Chishiya stood beside you watching the whole scene. He knew better than to intervene, as he could tell that Niragi wouldn’t ever intentionally permanently hurt you.

Niragi held you still as he leaned down to your ear, his hot breath hitting your sensitive skin. “Shut your fucking mouth you brat. You wouldn’t want me to hurt you too much later, would you?” You cringed as you felt his tongue slide behind the back of your ear, the piercing making you shiver.

“Niragi,” you heard Aguni say, saving you from the public embarrassment of getting felt up by Niragi in front of everyone you knew. “That’s enough, I think she gets the point.”

Niragi grunted in annoyance before loosening his fist on your neck. You sucked in a huge gasp of air, coughing slightly. Chishiya placed a gentle hand on your back in a sign of care, hoping that you’re okay.

Niragi aimed his rifle lazily at Chishiya’s face. “She’s fine, don’t touch her. A little choking is nothing she can’t handle.”

Chishiya immediately took his hand off of you, being taken back by Niragi’s comment.

You stood up straight after recovering, laying your eyes back on Niragi as he continued terrorizing the executive members.

God you hated that man. You hated how much you loved him.

*************

The room was now empty, consisting of no one except for you and Ann, who was still looking over Hatter’s body for any other injuries. You watched curiously, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed.

“Seems a bit weird, doesn’t it?” you spoke up through the silence.

“What does?” Ann answered, not bothering to look at you.

“Someone with a hundred percent winning streak dies now? Just as the tension between the militants and the others was getting to its peak?” you questioned.

Ann rolled her eyes sarcastically and turned towards you. “Took you long enough to figure out. Really? You didn’t suspect that from the start? Even after that shit-show that Niragi pulled earlier?”

You were taken back by her sudden anger. Ann never became mad at you, even if she had a legitimate reason to. You looked at her as she stared into your eyes intensely before sighing and turning back to Hatter.

“Sorry Y/N,” she apologized. “I’m just stressed. This shit is getting too heavy to handle, and now with Hatter gone and Aguni in his place, who knows what will happen to people like you, me, Mira, Chishiya and Alice. They could kill us if they want to.”

Her words hit your heart heavily. It was true. Aguni and his militants were never a particularly predictable bunch. And you weren’t exactly on all their good sides, well, except for Niragi’s.

“Sorry Ann,” you muttered out quietly. You thought it would be best to leave her alone. She obviously was quite distraught from Hatter’s death.

You shuffled out of the room, head held low in despair. Who knew what would happen to this place now? It was like a ticking time bomb only no one knew how long there was left until it exploded.

As you walked through the large door frame that led outside of the meeting room, a sudden grip on your arm brought you out of your thoughts and made you yelp. You were yanked into a hard chest, being held close and tight.

“Hey love. How are you feeling?” the person growled. You looked to see it was none other than Niragi himself. Of course it was, who else would treat you so roughly?

You stared into his ominous eyes, trying to read him. He ran his hand down your back slowly causing you to shiver. “Niragi,” you breathed out. You pushed against his broad chest to separate you. “Sorry, but I’m not in the mood right now.”

You stepped away from him and tried to escape down the hall, but he grabbed your hand before you could go anywhere. “Bullshit. You’re never in the mood. And the sass you were giving me in there in front of everyone says otherwise.” He pulled you back towards him, pushing your head onto his shoulder and nuzzling into your neck. “I didn’t like how you treated me, it made me upset.”

He was lying through his teeth, knowing that making you feel guilty for defending yourself against him would bring him more of your attention. Simple gaslighting, worked every time.

You chuckled against him then leaned back and cupped his face with your hands. He held a sad expression on his face, obviously to make you sympathetic.

“You’re such a big baby,” you laughed. “Try to act so tough and dominant in front of everyone, but look at you now. Crying into my shoulder about your feewings?” you mocked him. Niragi scowled and pulled his head out of your hands. “Shut up, as if you’re any better.”

It was true. That’s why you both clicked together. He was a gaslighting maniac who knew how to put up a fake ‘nice guy’ façade around you and you were a tough and snappy woman, who felt much too much empathy for others.

That’s how you fell into his trap. He used your empathy to his advantage, making you fall in love with him so he could have what he’d always wanted. Someone who loves him for who he is, no matter how many masks he had to put on for them.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, leaning up and pressing a small peck onto his lips. “Can you promise me something?” he suddenly asked after you pulled away from his face.

You grew anxious about what he wanted and nodded your head slowly in hesitation.

“When the chance comes, can we leave The Beach together? Like, run away?” he questioned, snaking his arms around your waist and squeezing tightly.

You laughed at his question, making him frown. He was being completely serious. “And go where Niragi? There’s not exactly a place we can go to.”

“Anywhere,” he answered sharply. “We could find a nice little hideout in Tokyo. Just you and me, no one else.” His grip on your waist tightened, making you flinch in his arms slightly.

He could see you tossing between answers. It wasn’t working, he had to try something else. He put on the fakest sad face he could do and pressed his forehead against yours while pouting. “Please? I promise I’ll take care of you.”

You practically melted as his begging. “Okay,” you sighed.

“Promise me,” he reminded you, running a hand through your soft hair.

There was a short moment of silence before you answered. “I promise.”

*************

You laid in your room with the sheets tossed lazily over you. Niragi was called to go talk to Aguni again before he went to sleep, so you were waiting for him.

Your eyes scanned your book quickly, wanting to finish the chapter you were on before Niragi returned. Because god forbid you having your attention on something that wasn’t him when he was around.

You glanced over at the door when you heard it creep open and Niragi stepped in, placing his sniper rifle carefully on the ground nearby and removing his boots.

“You took your time.” you teased, putting your book on the nightstand and sitting up in bed. Niragi groaned tiredly, stumbling over to your shared bed and collapsed dramatically face down onto the duvet. You giggled at him, running a soft hand though his midnight hair and pulling it out of it’s hair tie.

If he was a cat, he swore he could’ve purred at your touch. It made him feel warm and fuzzy inside. Not having physical affection for years on end does that to a person.

He sat up and crawled over to you. He grabbed your chin and pressed your lips together roughly, running his tongue across your mouth as he did so. You groaned into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck, making him smirk against your lips.

After a few minutes, he detached his lips from yours and started licking and sucking your sensitive skin on your jaw, slowly making his way down your neck. He felt shivers run down his spine as you gripped his shirt in your fist on his back. He loved having this power over you, and having you accept him and love him enough to not fight back.

You leaned your head back and closed your eyes, giving him more access to your neck. As you did so, he placed a hand on your lower back and pulled you towards him, forcing you to lie down on the bed with him hovering over you.

He pulled away from your neck and looked down at you, admiring your anxious expression painted across your face. He chucked. “What’s wrong baby,” he cooed, leaning down and continuing kissing your collarbones.

His voice was dripping in sweetness, so sweet it could’ve made you feel sick. It sounded fake, but you didn’t pick up on it. It was a shame. You saw Niragi as nothing but a victim of his own mind, but you weren’t able to see yourself becoming a victim of it.

“I’m just...” you mumbled out, feeling weak and vulnerable under his touch. “I’m scared Niragi.”

He pulled back again and looked into your eyes with a worried expression. “Why are you scared? It’s just me and you here angel. You’re perfectly safe,” he whispered out, stroking his knuckles down your cheek lovingly.

You knew you loved Niragi, but knowing he can change his personality in a blink of an eye unsettled you. Who knew when he would do that to you? You heard him speak up again.

“We’ve slept together many times before, why are you becoming shy just now?” he teased, lifting a hand and slowly running it up along your tummy underneath your shirt. Your breath hitched as his cold hands made contact, making your stomach muscles tense.

“So sensitive,” he cooed again, snuggling his head into your chest, just above your breasts. “I love you.”

The confession made your heart skip a beat and you tensed. Niragi noticed this, making his body fill with anxiety. Did he say it too soon?

“Sorry,” he mumbled against your shirt. “That was a bit much, you don’t have to say it back,” he gaslighted.

“No,” you cut him off. “I love you too.”

Niragi’s heart filled with warmth and he felt all his nerves tingle around his body. He hadn’t heard that since he was a kid, and hearing you say it did nothing but make him more fall in love.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he sniffed out. You looked down to see him staring at you, tears filling his eyes. It made your heart ache.

He took his body weight off you and hovered himself above you again. “I promise, I won’t let anyone ever hurt you,” he mumbled, voice cracking slightly. His arms that laid on either side of your head acted like a cage. Whether you were trapped willingly or forcefully was beyond your guess.

As he leaned his head down again and pressed his still wet lips against yours, you felt his lanky arms snake around your torso underneath you, keeping you in place.

You laid there, moving your mouths together and holding each other as close as possible. It would’ve almost been romantic and loving if it wasn’t for the context. While one was preying on their victim to achieve what they’ve so desperately wanted their whole life, the other believed that that person was the victim themselves.

Such irony, to love someone who has a ‘unlovable’ personality, when it’s not even the one that you fell in love with.

The one you fell in love with was nothing but one of his many masks. And no one could determine whether he would ever take it off in front of you.

Author’s Note: I’m so sorry this one was actually hard to write. It’s a bit all over the place but I hope it was still enjoyable to read! Also I’m not going to do a Part 2 to this fic, but if you want to read something similar to this kind of yandere theme with Niragi, read my other fic called You’re Everything You Once Hated. I’m going to be posting a Part 2 of that one soon.

[yandere-mha]

yandere dabi with an s/o who likes to be touched (i loved the last one so much, i just want more please) p.s. you’re an amazing writer. literally my favorite mha blog.

So I’m gonna do a combination of these two for your Christmas gifts! You guys won second place in the vote so congrats and merry Christmas!! Thank you so much for your kind words!

TW: ABUSE, BLOOD MENTION, BODY HORROR, NON-CON MENTION, R*PE MENTION, MENTAL ILLNESS, STOCKHOLM SYNDROME.

READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION.

Dabi never touched you anymore. When he’d first taken you away from the comfort of your family, he always seemed to invade every crevice on your being with a wicked and toothy grin plastered on across his scarred lips as his face fell apart at the seams, wiping his blood on you like finger paint. You screamed, cried, and begged him to stop, causing him to shriek as loud as his lungs would allow, so close to your face that you thought he may bite you.

“You scared? You fucking scared of me? Good! Tell me how horrible I am and cry harder!”

But now... he never smiled. Whenever he was in the same room as you, he’d stare at you with a tired, withdrawn expression yet he never said a word. He just sat there and looked at you as if he were waiting for something to happen. This put you on edge and made you feel very isolated. At the beginning, you would have given anything just to make him stop but now you wished he would just touch you again to give you some kind of human interaction other than a never ending staring contest. You hadn’t had a conversation with another soul in ages and you missed your friends. You wondered what must have changed to make him be so cold to you so abruptly. Was it something you did? Was he mad at you? Did he get bored with you?

Unexpected hurt bubbled up in your chest as you considered the latter explanation and your loneliness began to constrict around your throat. You turned a shy, panicked face towards the direction where Dabi was leaning his body against the counter, scoping you out from across the room with his arms folded over his chest. When your eyes met each other, he squinted his. You wondered if he was suspicious of you or if he was trying to focus in on you. Either way, the tension that always seemed to fill the room was unbearable. You decided to be courageous and break that tension “Uh..”

He quirked an eyebrow in interest and waited for you to continue. 

“Um... Can I hug you?” You inquired, your voice trembling as you swallowed the lump in your throat. 

You could sense him immediately start to scrutinize each and every one of your words as his otherwise static expression became more tense and his eyes seemed to bulge out of his head. He stayed motionless for a few seconds before his wide eyes narrowed and a frown pulled at his staples around his mouth. His voice croaked from lack of use “...You gone nuts or something?” His tone was harsh and it stung.

“No...” you almost whimpered. You cringed at your own tone that almost sounded akin to a whining child.

Dabi scoffed as he looked away from you for the first time in weeks, pointing his icy glare to the floor. He looked almost... bashful? How odd. 

The tension in the room resurfaced as neither of you moved but it was a different kind of tension from before: A kind of feeling you never thought you’d ever feel in emanating from him. You thought he hated you. 

Your face flushed from fear and your legs felt weak as you slowly picked yourself up from your seat and crossed the room to where Dabi was resting his hips against the kitchen countertop. His head snapped up in panic the second he saw you shifted your body. He looked like an angry and frightened animal. You wondered if this was a good idea as you planted yourself next to him to prop yourself against the bar.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to. I just miss you.” 

His saucer-shaped eyes twitched at this as he furrowed his brows “Don’t say shit like that if you don’t mean it, y/n.” His jaw clenched in fury and he seemed to bare his teeth at you. Every instinct told you to drop the subject but you couldn’t hold yourself back as tears escaped your eyeline.

Your words seemed to pour from your mouth before you could stop them. “I do mean it. I’m so lonely and I love you but you won’t even talk to me anymore and I don’t even know why you hate me. I don’t know what I did wrong!” you blubbered like a child. How pitiful.

Dabi’s breath caught in his throat and it looked as if he couldn’t breathe until he started to hyperventilate. You’d never seen him panic like this before.

“Don’t say that!” he shrieked. “I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I lo-”

He ceased breathing all together when your arms wrapped tightly around his chest. He stayed frozen in place as you gently pressed your lips to his face. 

Dabi clutched to the back of your shirt so tightly you feared it would tear as he gradually let his knees buckle to the ground to settle in a sitting position, making you stumble and landing directly in his lap.

For hours, the two of you held each other on the tiled floor with you in his lap, paying special attention to each and every inch of his beautiful discolored skin. He couldn’t let go of you as he gipped your body close to him and burrowed his face into your hair, breathing your scent in.

[deliriumofendless]

Ugh I'm so annoyed rn ever Eurovision tiktok is filled with comments saying Ukraine only won bc of pity votes. I don't have the energy to fight under every tiktok but damn ppl are the worst. It's like they forgot why Eurovision was created in the first place, it's not bad to show solidarity. Plus the song itself was great, it's not like we collectively fell in love with Go_A last year and Moldova literally got the second highest vote. I get feeling disappointed your fav didn't win but cmon. Especially the Germans annoy me (I'm German) they act like it's all of Ukraine's fault we got last bc Germany does a poor political job so everyone hates us. Maybe it's because we fucking sucked, our song was the color beige nobody wanted us there in the first place bc we were boring af. That's also not even the esc fans fault but our broadcasting network who decided who goes. But yeah only if it weren't for Ukraine we would totally win that thing, like our song was this fucking masterpiece. It's so annoying bc you can't argue with those ppl you could talk to the wall and get the same effect.

The only country that seriously got robbed was France, they deserved way more points, but Germany was right where it supposed to be and even the 6 points from the public were too much I would rather give them to France. I'm sorry for ranting but those dumb comments really made me angry.

rant away babe i feel the exact same way, those people are just bitter their fave didn’t win. although i wish my other favorite acts would’ve gotten more points (finland, france, norway etc) i recognize that those points went to ukraine and i’m so happy they won that i can’t find myself upset that the others ranked lower than i would’ve liked.

and as for “pity votes”,,,, eastern european songs have been really popular lately and they show a culture that not many are familiar with because for so so many years it’s been viewed as lesser. yeah i’m sure ukraine did get some “pity votes” but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t an amazing song. it would’ve ranked high if there was or wasn’t a war. unfortunately this is why leading up to the final i understood the people wishing ukraine wouldn’t win because they knew people would react this way and be bitter.

also like the german entry did absolutely nothing for me and he seemed cool with ranking last tbh (which is the way it should be, eurovision isn’t the end of the world and you should be a good sport no matter what, so i respect him for that). anyways i love that ukraine won and if anyones got anything to say about it they can fuck off because i’m over the moon about their success

[yenafmd]

crowned: aftermath interview 

talk about your reaction to your final ranking

no thanks, yena would rather swallow a lightbulb rather than talk about this godforsaken show for another second. but well, that wasn’t an option, she had tried her hardest to dodge this interview but her manager had warned her he would have dragged her in kicking in screaming if that would be what it would take. “i’m dissapointed of course.” yena pursed her lips. yeah no shit, understatement of the century. “to do so well the entire run of the show only to fall down almost all the way to the bottom in the finale... i don’t think anyone would enjoy that.”

why do you think you received the final rank you did?

because obviously, none of these people have any fucking taste and they were too busy sucking up to their faves, duh. but she couldn’t say that, even if she wanted to. “i guess we didn’t live up to people’s expectations.” when did calypso ever? dissapointment was the red thread of their career after all. “our stage felt less elaborate than some of our competitors, perhaps we failed to stand and made is more forgetable. it’s a pity really.”

which final performance, other than your own, was your personal favorite? if it’s different than your favorite performance, what was your favorite final song? why?

none of them, they could all choke for all that yena cared. fuck every other group and their stupid music, she hated all of them, right now she did at least, seething with envy and anger. “i enjoyed lily’s song, you think was really good.” sure, the song was good, yena could give them that. if only she didn’t stop to think about how lily had beaten them the same way they’d been beating calypso all their career long. there was a reason every girl group looked up to lily and not calypso.

other than yourself, which group would have received your vote for the win if you’d been able to vote this round?

“my vote would have gone to titan probably.” was it a coincidence that yena named one of the two groups that had ranked below them? of course not, she didn’t she could currently stomach giving credit to any group that had beaten them in the moment. they’d already outranked calypso anyway, why would they need yena kissing up to them on top of that?

if you could do the whole show over again, what would you do differently?

never fucking show up to the first day of filming, how about that? “i don’t know truthfully... we worked so hard.” and it hadn’t been enough, again, it would never be enough. maybe their best just wasn’t good enough. “maybe we could have tried to stick closer to what we did the first two rounds, because the people seemed to have enjoyed that more.” 

what was the most memorable moment of the show for you?

“being dubbed the show’s reaction queen was pretty memorable.” and if they would keep it up with the stupid fucking questions, they would get another fun reaction moment out of it, namely yena hurling a chair through the nearest window because of how fed up she was with this bullshit. it was late, she was tired, dissapointed, angry, humiliated, couldn’t she just go home already? “i’m glad i could show that side of myself and that it brought joy to some people to watch.”

is there anything you want to say to any of the other competitors? any congratulations or any heartfelt words for any friends you made?

fuck you, fuck all of you, fuck mnet, fuck base, fuck the companies and fuck every single idol involved in this dumpster fire. that about summed up yena’s feelings well in the moment. instead, she gripped the edge of her seat untill her knuckles turned white to keep the frustration at bay as she put on a fake smile. “we all did well. congralutions to everyone who was on the show for their hard work. i hope we can all look back on crowned fondly.” yeah... yena sure fucking wouldn’t.

[fakeloveaskblog]

Janus, did you follow up with Remus on that invitation? Or are you too giddy with your new boyfriend?👀👀

(Words: 2578)

 Janus: “Oh yes Remus....I had totally not forgotten because I have been too busy being giddy about Logan. Totally not. I am afraid if I meet up with Remus right now I will simply be so giddy with so much love I will actually explode and die on the spot. But that is a risk I am willing to take!

Janus took a deep breathe. This was the third deep breathe he’d taken in a row and yet he kept being just as nervous. He’d hung out with Remus twice already, simply knocking on his door shouldn’t be making him this anxious. It was stupid. He was stupid.

He gave up on trying to calm down and knocked on the door.

The door opened. His breath hitched and he subconsciously straightened his back to look more alright.

To his surprise it wasn’t Remus that opened. At first glance he could have mistaken it for him. The person- the woman opening looked nearly identical to him after all. Same dark brown hair color, same brown nearly red eyes seeming to pierce into his soul, even the same birthmark above their lip.

Only difference being that her hair was longer, reaching her waist, and she wasn’t as skinny, in turn making her figure more full.

“Who are you?” She asked in a cold tone, it sounded more like a snarl.

“Janus” He reached out his hand “I’m Janus”

She slammed the door shut.

Janus let out a sigh. He’d spent the entire bus ride worrying about how badly Remus would react to seeing him but wow this was even worse. He was just about to go home and sulk when the door swung open again.

“Okay come in” The woman said while dragging him into the living room.

“t-thank you” Janus stammered out.

His cheeks heated up when he locked eyes with Remus who was sitting on the sofa. His friend quickly glanced away and crossed his arms over his chest.

The sofa had been made into a makeshift bed and suitcases laid littered over the floor. The lady sat him down on the couch before slumping over in a newly bought fainting cough. She had on a red robe while Remus had on a pyjamas with an octopus pattern on.

“So my dear eh demented Remus I am here to inform you that there is a giant seamonster in my bathtub so I had to go somewhere else...And I happened to choose this place...for tactical battle reasons!” Janus blurted out.

A weight lifted off his shoulders when Remus shone up into a smile at his made up story. Janus couldn’t help but stare at his sharp teeth. He knew him being obsessed with vampires as a teenager would bite him in the neck one day.

“Want me to kill it?”

Janus looked up from his mouth “What? The uh monster?” He put on his usual charming smile “Well of course darling. You only have to be ready to be eaten to death”

“OH I am ALways ready to be eaten to death. Trust me!”

“He got voted most likely to have a cannibalism kink in 10th grade” The woman added on. She was extravagantly fanning herself with a deliciously decorated fan.

“I was!” Remus exclaimed with a proud smile.

“Who- Who are you?” Janus tried to say in the nicest tone possible.

“She’s my frankenstein monster which I created just to bitch around and annoy me” “Life saw what kind of fuck up he was and made me out of diamonds and a lion’s pride to be the better version of him!” They said at the same time.

They glanced at each other before looking back at Janus.

“She’s my twin” “He’s my twin” They continued on at the same time again.

The lightbulb inside Janus’ brain finally lit up “Oh you’re Rowan aren’t you? I have heard many atrocious tales about you”

“The one and only” She moved her arms into some sort of regal pose while saying it “I’ve heard stories of you too you pitiful Janus. Re-re has told me he hates you and finds you awfully boring but you seems so lonely and sad he doesn’t want to tell you!” 

Remus’ eyes widened into panic as he shook his head “I never said that!! Lies!!! Defimation!!!!”

“Re-Re I was joking”

“Oh............ok”

He kept fiddling with his oversized shirt. He looked over at his sister while moving further away from Janus. Rowan nodded back at him.

“Sibling meeting!” She exclaimed as she abruptly stood up while dropping the fan. She grabbed onto Remus and dragged him into the bedroom.

Janus stayed with his hands awkwardly clasped between his thighs. He hadn’t known he would walk into his greatest weakness: Meeting new peopel!!!

He looked around the room and slowly realized that the suitcases weren’t even unpacked. Meaning Rowan must have just arrived. Meaning Janus had inserted himself into a sibling reunion.

Holy shit. He was a piece of shit.

He slumped down on the green covers of the makeshift sofa bed....wait....Remus’ stuffed octopus laid on the pillow. Meaning it was his bed.....so Rowan was using the bedroom.

It all clicked at once. The cheerful disney posters. The white fluffy pillows everywhere. The walls being painted gold and red. THE LESBIAN FLAG HANGING ON THE WALL.

This wasn’t Remus’ apartement. This was Rowan’s apartement which Remus had weasled himself into.

Holy shit. Janus wasn’t just a piece of shit. He was a stupid piece of shit. Remus was never going to love him back!!! AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH-

Meanwhile Remus was looking around in the heaps of dirty clothes and trash that had piled up in the bedroom while Rowan had been away. His sister was standing over him with her hands clasped in front of her chest.

“Soooo Re-Re do you have a cruuush on him?” She had an extremly smug smile on her face.

“I would rather eat a burning stone than have a crush” He muttered back.

“He’s not even pretty”

“Ro-Ro you don’t think any guy is pretty”

“That’s not true!” She disagreed. She began to count on her fingers. “Tarzan”  That was it.

“He’s animated!”

“He still counts!”

Remus took a deep breathe “We shall savor this battle for another day and it shall be glorious”

“It sure will brother!” Rowan tightened her fist.

They made angry grimaces at each other for a few seconds before going back to being normal. Remus tried looking under the bed.

“He’s a total dork you realize that right? He isn’t good at hiding it either” She stated “So I guess he isn’t the worst guy to have a crush on”

“I don’t have a crush on him!”

She sent him another smug look “Oh really? I’m not so sure about that!”

“I’M NOT INTERESTED IN HIM!”

She held up her hands “Alright. Alright. I hear you”

Rowan patted him on the shoulder. He took a shaky breathe to calm down. He held up a binder. The reason he had been searching the bedroom in the first place.

“Could you help-”

“Yep”

“I don’t want him seeing me without it”

“Got it”

He took off his shirt and forced the binder down around his shoulders. Rowan made sure to only touch the binder as she pulled it down so it sat properly.

“I saw that my money has been getting sent to a therapist” Rowan said while leaning her chin on his shoulder “Proud of you”

“OHOHO It is not at all what you think it is. It’s as much therapy as you having that spiritual guide living here for a while was actually spiritual in any way and not you just your girlfriend”

She sighed “Still an idiot I see................ANd we did burn candles when we shared baths so it was really spiritual actually!!!”

Remus shrugged “I don’t need therapy anyway” She did a facepalm “Hey it’s true!! You let me live all on my own and look! I’m not dead in a ditch or addicted to ketamine or whatever you thought was gonna happen the moment you turned your back”

Rowan rolled her eyes “Sure dukey”

She went back out into the living room while he stayed to put on his shirt again. Janus sat still in nearly the exact same place they’d left him. As if he was afraid doing anything would ruin everything.

He looked at her with almost fear. It turned into definitive fear when Rowan walked up to him and grabbed onto him to shove his back against the couch. She towered over him and pierced her eyes right into his.

“Listen here you swept together ball of dirt” She snarled out “If you ever hurt my brother, in any way, I will make sure you have nightmares from what I did to you every single night for the rest of your miserable life! You’ll never feel peace ever again!” 

Janus gulped “Yes ma’am”

Rowan let go of him and shone up into a smile “Good! If you need me I’ll be in my room putting on a face mask!”

She walked off at the same time Remus came back. Janus sat even stiller on the couch. His crush slumped down next to him and rolled his thumbs.

“So whatcha wanna do?” Rem asked. 

Janus shook his head to relax “Whatever you want to do dear”

Remus shone up into a grin and dashed to pick something up “UNO!”

“Ah yes. I am of course a feared master of...uno” 

He snorted while sorting the cards between his fingers “Please say that again”

“Uno?”

The snort turned into a laugh “It’s just cute to hear non spanish speakers saying uno. That’s your whole vibe. Cute. Dorky. Smart dumbass. You’re like...the decaying corpse of a chipmunk!”

Janus took a moment “.....thanks. Best compliment I’ve ever gotten”

“No problem! Now I’ll make up for it by beating you in uno!”

It was a heated battle. Remus apparently had incredibly luck in all card games. Janus used the technique of distraction (!) and started talking about obscure conspiracy theories. It failed as his crush already knew the conspiracies. Which then started an even more heated debate about which conspiracy was the best all while the battle of cards continued.

Finally it came down to Janus having 1 card and Remus having 2. The snake let out a villanous laugh. After his crush’s turn the victory would be his!

But then Remus laid the card equivalent of slapping him across the face with both a sword And a dick. He laid a skip card! Janus fell back on the couch in exasperated horror as his crush laid his last card.

“WOOHOO FUCKER! GET KICKED IN THE BALLS BITCHASS!!” Remus yelled while getting up and running a few victory laps around the couch.

Janus laid in stunned silence. few times had he been beated this good. 

“I’ll destroy you in the next round” Jan shook his fist to be extra extra.

“Oh really now. You dare challenge the great Buttmaster420!? IN uNO? Truly brave” Remus replied with a cocky grin.

Another fierce match began. As did their conspiracy theory debate. 1 win for Janus. 1 for Remus. Somewhere along the line they made popcorn. A second win for the snake boy. 

2 wins vs 2 wins. This was it. Remus looked his friend up and down like he was a comboy about to shoot him in the heart as he laid a pick up 4 cards card. Janus gasped. The tension in the air could be cut with a butter knife.

The final card landed. Remus won. Janus pretended to faint.

They shook hands and exchanged looks of respect before bursting out into laughter.

“Alright alright” Remus chuckled out “Snakey since I won I get to decide what we do next!”

“Please not a satanic ritual. I already have that planned for Monday”

“Oh nonono! Much better! Y’know those ghost hunting videos on youtube??? Yeah I love finding really badly made ones and laughing at them!”

“Ah yes, because if there is one thing I am known to do it is laugh at others”

They sat on opposite ends of the couch while Rem searched deeply after the best trash. He found a 15 minute one where they were apparently being chased by slenderman.

They exhanged jokes and giggles over it but to be honest most of what Janus focused on was just being in his crush’ apartement. He tried to sneakily look around to aww at the drawings and storyboards pinned onto the walls. The small sculptures made out of trash laying in droves on the floor. It all made his heart flutter. His entire body yearned to make out until his lips hurt.

Meanwhile Remus was sneaking looks at Janus. His eyes was filled with the ace equivalent of lust.

“...Can...Are...Can I use you as a pillow?” He quietly asked. “You look soft”

Janus’ cheeks went red from blushing in an instant “...sure”

Remus moved closer and carefully leaned his head onto his friend’s stomach. He hadn’t cuddled a person who wasn’t his sister for over a year. Holy shit. This was comfy!

“You’re very doughy!....THAt’s a compliment!” Remus said.

“You really are pulling out your A game compliments today huh”

“Better than pulling out my massive dick!! No but seriously this” He pointed at them both in their cuddly positions “fucks!”

“Oh trust me darling the last thing I am doing right now is fucking”

Remus burst out into a cackle and flapped his hands “You’re gold snakey!!”

“I try my best”

While they continued to watch videos Janus gently moved his hand down to stroke his fingers through his crush’s hair. At first Remus flinched but then he relaxed into it and told him to keep going.

The popcorn bowl got emptied. They laughed at the videos until their stomaches hurt. Remus playfully moved his hands up to cover his friend’s eyes every time a jumpscare happened. Jan pretended to try and bite his’ fingers every time.

Eventually Remus let out a yawn. For a moment he relaxed and cuddled closer. He even let his eyes close. Before he suddenly flinched. His eyes were wide open as he sat straight up.

“I’m tired. You should go” He choked out.

Janus thought before deciding to not question his strange reaction. He sent him a warm smile “You’re right. It’s late. I can text you about meeting up later”

“For sure!”

A silence hung around them as they went over to the entrance door. Remus leaned against the door frame. Janus took a step outside the apartement as he put his jacket on.

They glanced at each other. Neither said goodbye. Remus picked at his skin.

“...I....Janny...I...Okay this might seem weird with me wanting you to leave and most of the time not wanting you to touch me....But I...I kind of trust you... More than most people. I mean it’s rare for me to trust anyone in any way....so yeah...I just wanted you to know that”

Janus fumbled after what to say “Thank you. That’s- I’m flattered....I trust you too....I wouldn’t let you see me when I wasn’t perfect if I didn’t”

Remus smiled at him. A small but genuine smile. “I’ll see you then”

“Yeah” Janus’ chest warmed “Don’t die when I’m not looking!”

“Oh nonono. If I die I’ll make it so dramatic you won’t be able to miss it!” His voice softened “Stay safe..please”

[thestraggletag]

Virtual Session, A Rumbelle Zoom Fic

Rating: Explicit.

Summary: Town meetings were usually drab, boring events, and having them over Zoom hadn't improved them much. Or so Mr Gold thought, until he forgot to log out of the meeting after it ended, only to discover a half-naked Belle French had also forgotten to do so.

SOMEONE PLEASE COMMENT WITH A BETTER SUMMARY I HATE IT.

Based on this prompt.

“We will review your presentation and hold a virtual vote before the month is up, Miss French. Thank you very much for your time.”

The mayor adjusted her suit jacket, her shirt riding up as she did so and unknowingly displaying the telltale white check of her Adidas yoga pants. Royce snickered, taking advantage of the fact he was muted.

“As there are no other pending topics on today’s agenda this virtual session is adjourned.”

He half-expected her to produce a gable out of thin air and bang it against her marble countertop. All around him people began to say their goodbyes and log out of Zoom, lest Regina decide to spring a surprise motion at the last minute. There was no need to flee, however, as Regina herself was one of the first to log off. Given the amount of smoke he had spotted coming from behind her right before she exited he did not need to guess what had caused her sudden departure.

“I guess no apple turnover for dessert at Madame Mayor’s.”

He heard an adorable chuckle and did not need to glance at the screen again to guess who it was. Very few people found his brand of dark humour palatable, but the librarian seemed to love it. It was nice, he soon found out, to have someone appreciate his often ill-received quips. It was one of the things he had first noticed about her. Well, other than her stunning eyes. And perhaps her hair, which was a lovely shade of reddish-brown. Her legs too, he acknowledged reluctantly, so nicely-displayed by her short skirts and high heels. And her-

He stopped himself. That way lay madness and he knew it. It was one thing to admire in an unattached way, from a distance. He was a connoisseur of beautiful things, after all, and Belle French was certainly beautiful. Unfortunately she also happened to have a lovely personality. Kind, generous, open, but also bold, defiant and the littlest bit dark. She flaunted the rules of smalltown society by wearing what the matrons around town considered “inappropriate clothing” for a librarian, and speaking to anyone and everyone, including those that polite society would urge her to shun. Drank beer with the miners, for example, men deemed “too coarse” for genteel women, and stocked the library with altogether undesirable books, be it because they dealt with unseemly issues or because they were from traditional authors. Which, he was sure, was code for “white men”, even if Mother Superior never quite spelled it out in such terms.

She was altogether dangerous for him, with her mix of light and dark, so he was always on his guard, lest his thoughts veer too far into dangerous territory. He didn’t fear scorn or derision if his feelings became too obvious for her to ignore. Belle was altogether too kind for that. But to be gently yet firmly rebuffed, and have their subsequent interactions laced by the barest hint of pity from her, would be unbearable. 

“I’m pretty sure that at least Mr Spencer didn’t hear a word I said. His camera was off during the whole of my presentation.” The librarian huffed, clearly bothered that her proposal to increase the library’s budget to repair the East Wing’s leaky ceiling wouldn’t get a fair shot. The wing was currently closed, and had been since she had taken the post of librarian, but with the newfound need of social-distancing, particularly in enclosed spaces, she hoped she could change that, make the town council see the need for more space in the library. “Though perhaps he didn’t want to be yelled at again for not being in a three-piece suit for a virtual town meeting.”

He briefly paused to remember Spencer’s red face when Regina had chastised him for wearing a white polo shirt instead of a shirt and tie during the last meeting.

“Kinda hypocritical of Madame Mayor, given she was a couple of clothing articles shy of a full tracksuit tonight.”

They shared a conspiratorial laugh, and he hoped the camera somehow toned down the stupid look on his face. He tried to avoid direct eye contact, looking instead mildly-interested in her living-room. Her laptop seemed to be perched somewhere on her dining-room table, giving him a great view of the rest of her flat, which was a loft, so it was open space, with exposed brick and tall ceilings. Though small it was tastefully-decorated, and with enough bookcases to make it seem like it was a part of the library he had never been to, if it weren’t for the kitchen area and the- and he told himself to stop looking at it- queen-size bed.

“Well, Miss French, at the risk of getting ahead of myself I can confidently state that things are looking good for your project. It was an excellent presentation and I could see Midas and Hopper were clearly in favour. That leaves the Mayor and Spencer outnumbered. Hell, I think even Regina will vote yes on this one. I know she’s keen on finding a place for students with connectivity issues to go do their homework and attend some classes. Fingers crossed the voting goes your way.”

He smiled at her, trying to look reassuring instead of besotted, and they exchanged their goodbyes. He closed his laptop, deciding that he needed a stiff drink first and a cold shower later, and went over to his wet bar, where after some debate he picked up a bottle of Ardberg and poured himself three fingers of Scotch, opting to forgo the ice and drink it straight. The alcohol burned pleasantly on its way down, making him loosen up almost immediately. He went over to the window, undoing the buttons of his vest and slipping it off as he did, feeling warmed by the whiskey. He chanced a glance outside, where the night remained crisp and clear, thankfully devoid of snow. It was still bitterly cold, though, and he hoped the library’s heating system, which was in need of maintenance as well, would not fail. The money for its maintenance had already been allocated and the budget for the work set, but perhaps he could email the person in charge of the job and… persuade them to make it a priority. The work should’ve already been done, but the pandemic had put a temporary stop on jobs like that with the exception of emergencies. Now that things were slowly returning to normal he was confident he could get the people working on the library by the end of the week with three sentences or less.

He went back to his laptop, determined to send the email as soon as possible. He opened it up and noticed, at first, that his camera light was still on. Almost as soon as his brain connected the dots and realised that he had forgotten to log off Zoom he noticed something else: so had Belle French. She was walking around her house, seemingly tidying things up and humming as she went along. It was a lovely, domestic little display, and though he knew he needed to log off fucking Zoom and stop intruding on what Miss French clearly thought was the privacy of her own home, he didn’t move the mouse. Surely there was no harm in indulging a bit. He was a lonely man, partly by design and partly by circumstance, and though he often told himself he wasn’t missing out on anything, he had to admit it was nice to- albeit accidentally- share an intimate moment with someone he had an affinity with. He imagined, for a moment, that instead of her living-room he was seeing her in his, picking up discarded books or perhaps the remnants of a tea they had shared together. He quickly shook himself out of that fantasy, alarm bells ringing in his mind, and refocused in the present, where Belle was taking off her cardigan. Well, surely, that meant the heating system was holding, which was a good thing. Which reminded him of his idea to write-

He glanced at the monitor again, where Belle French was now shimming out of her skirt.

He blinked, idiotically-confused for a second, as if the thought of a woman undressing was news for him. After the initial shock he took in all the details, fixsting on the black stripe on the back of her sheer black stockings, which she rolled down with painstaking care, the gesture almost painfully erotic. She started on the buttons of her sheer maroon shirt, undoing them with ease and shrugging out of the garment. The black camisole she wore underneath did nothing to conceal her lacy black culotte, which hugged her perfect ass like it was made for her. She went to unpin her hair next, letting the bobby pins that kept it off her sides of her face drop into a little ceramic bowl on her vanity. He was surprised at how much seeing her walk around her house with bare feet, shaking her hair out and stretching her limbs affected him. There was nothing inherently sensual about her movements, yet he was transfixed, unable to look away. Any hope of containing his attraction or attachment to the librarian vanished into thin air at that moment, leaving him equal parts scared and turned on.

It was then that his mostly-unused sense of decency decided to let itself be known, a wave of shame washing through him at the notion of what he was doing. Miss French had every right to her privacy, and here he was, violating it in the worst possible way. He should log out immediately and stay away from the librarian for a rather long time, enough for-

“Royce?”

His heart lurched painfully in his chest at the sound of her voice. Slowly, reluctantly, he turned his head towards the screen, telling himself that he deserved the scorn and disgust he was sure to see in the librarian’s face. But whatever hasty apologies and half-formed excuses he was about to blurt out died on his lips the moment he saw her: she was standing in profile, arms crossed in front of her chest and hands grasping the hem of her camisole, prepared to take it off, and her head was turned to the side, her eyes on her laptop screen. She didn’t look accusatory, or disgusted. She didn’t even look embarrassed. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes shone, but it looked more like… like... 

Arousal.

“I’m here, sweetheart.”

He could hardly recognise the low, growly burr as his voice. It sounded uncouth and harsh, like the way he used to speak back in Glasgow. He had worked for years on toning down his accent, letting only the barest hint of it show when he was trying to intimidate someone. Never enough to sound too much like he did back in his youth, and yet he hadn’t managed to quite rid himself of it. 

On screen Belle lifted the hem of her camisole a few inches, exposing supple, creamy skin. Royce tried hard not to swallow his own tongue. She bit her lip, suddenly hesitant, and fuck him if that sliver of vulnerability wasn’t the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. 

“Is this… Is this okay?” 

It took him an embarrassingly-long time to understand that Belle fucking French was asking him if it was alright for her to strip in front of him, presumably for their mutual enjoyment. He reminded himself that he had had only one glass of Scotch, not enough to dismiss whatever was happening as a drunken daydream. Which he might have had, from time to time. About Belle. Maybe.

“It’s perfect, sweetheart.” 

Her lips curled into a coy smile, the growl in his voice making her shiver, and in one swift motion removed her camisole, revealing a lacy black bandeau bra with delicate details done in leavers lace. It matched her knickers, he noticed idly, and the black contrasted amazingly with her pale, softly-blushed skin. His keen eye noticed the exquisite craftsmanship right away. It was an expensive set, no doubt, and given how she was wearing during a commonplace day where she planned to stay home it led him to the conclusion that Belle French simply owned a lot of fancy lingerie, to the point that she wore it as an everyday sort of garment. He was very sure he would never again be able to look at her and not think about that.

“You’re gorgeous.”

In any other situation he would’ve been embarrassed to sound so… Reverent. So incredibly not in control of the situation. He might be fully-dressed, a man of means with a position of political power in their little hamlet and she might be a half-naked small-town librarian but he was absolutely powerless at the moment. And what was worse, he enjoyed it. 

“Thank you, Mr Gold.”

Though he loved the way she said “Gold”, with enough irreverence to turn her tone teasing, he desperately wanted her to say his name.

“Call me Royce, sweetheart.”

She walked over to the table, flipped the chair and sat down, draping her arms loosely around the backrest, the position loose and cocky. There was no doubt in her now, no hesitance. She had assumed control of the situation, for which he was grateful. She tilted her head to a side, sizing him up.

“You’re wearing a lot of clothes, Royce. I feel at a disadvantage.”

She smiled, looking supremely unconcerned, but there was a glint in her eyes he recognised quite easily. Greed. And not the kind he was used to seeing in people who frequented his shop to strike one of his infamous deals. It was different. It certainly felt different to him, hit him right beneath his gut in a way that felt both uncomfortable and pleasant. Without quite thinking his fingers went to the knot of his tie, already loosened, and tugged expertly, untying it in seconds. The silk made a soft, hissing sound as it slipped off his neck, which sounded loud in the otherwise dead silence of the room. Belle followed his movements avidly from the screen, and the look of utter absorption on her face gave him the surge of bravery he needed to tackle the buttons of his shirt till he could shimmy out of it. He was wearing a white undershirt beneath, but his arms and throat were bare, making him feel ridiculously exposed. 

“You have many layers. I like that about you.” Belle dropped her gaze, looking coy and vulnerable at the same time. “I like a lot of things about you.”

“Me too.” He tried to stop himself, but it was easier said than done. “Too many things, actually. But I’ve always understood that it would be foolish to expect anything to come of that.” He looked at Belle, draped over her chair and in her underwear. “Well, perhaps I was wrong.”

Belle smiled.

“You’re finally getting it. Good boy.”

He forced himself not to react visibly to those words, even though the moment he heard them it was like being struck by lightning. Thankfully the camera caught him from the waist up, hiding the embarrassing way his cock had perked up a second earlier. He could not hide his flushed face, however, or the way his eyes glazed over the slightest bit. 

“Tell you what. I’ll take off my bra if you lose the t-shirt. It’s a fair deal.”

It wasn’t. As far as he was concerned he was getting the far better end of the deal but he would never dream of telling her that. Tipping his hand was not his style. 

“Deal.”

He said it in the pleased, soft burr he usually reserved for his less savoury business arrangements, the kind that needed to be sealed in the cloak of night in some remote, deserted location. Belle shivered, and he enjoyed the thought that his voice made her react so. Feeling bold he grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked it off,      baring himself from the waist up. He saw and felt the librarian’s eyes roam over his torso. It wasn’t a pretty sight. He had scars from his dodgy upbringing in Glasgow, and some from his learning days restoring antiques. He was fond of the sun so at least he was not pasty white, or overly hairy, but he didn’t have much in the way of muscles. Belle, however, seemed to appreciate his more lean physique, if the heat of her gaze was any indication. After she seemed to have her fill of staring she leaned back and deftly unhooked her bra, letting the straps slide down her arms till the garment was on the floor. 

He stared. Couldn’t help himself really. Belle French’s tits were perfect. Fucking perfect. Just the right size, incredibly soft-looking and with the loveliest nipples he had ever seen, a rosy-pink that he would never be able to get out of his head. The kind of breasts that would ruin a man for other women. He certainly felt like no other breasts could ever tempt him again. 

“Royce, are you okay?”

Her voice sounded a delightful mix of amused and slightly worried, so he forced himself to nod, still unable to look away.

“Fucking perfect.”

Fuck, was that his voice? He sounded… dazed. He fought the instinct to slap some sense into himself. Belle draped herself across the back of the chair again, and though the position hid her breasts somewhat it didn’t do so completely. 

“I love how soft you are. Underneath the hardass pawnbroker exterior, I mean. Soft, and kind and funny. So funny. It’s one of your most attractive qualities.”

Most people wouldn’t think so. His brand of humour was dark, sometimes too much. And yet Belle always laughed, always caught on to his quips and seemed to appreciate them in a consporatory way. She could also dish it out, but in a far more subtle way that he was sure most people didn’t catch on to. Softly-spoken sarcasm delivered in a lilting accent. 

What was not to love?

He told her so. Unburdened himself completely, caught up in his own physical vulnerability and hers. It felt safe to tell her of his feelings, of how days where he knew he would see her were brighter, and how he liked when they shared a smile or exchanged a comment on a book. How his heart fluttered when he watched her read to the children, and how another part of his anatomy altogether reacted when she strutted around town with her short skirts and devil-may-care attitude. Liked how she thumbed her nose at the pearl-clutchers in town, doing things her way. Completely unsuited for boring, conventional small-town life, and yet wholly at home in Storybrooke, to the point where he could not imagine the town without her.

He shut up after that, noticing how she seemed to have changed, her mood going from loose and flirty to… anxious? No, that wasn’t the right word. Unsettled, perhaps.

“I can’t do this.” The sudden sentence felt like a slap in the face, but the moment his face dropped she seemed to backpedal. “No, no, not like that! I mean… I wanna touch you. I want to be in the same room. With even less clothes on. This… It suddenly doesn’t feel like enough.”

She was fucking right, he realised. He felt itchy all of a sudden. Unfulfilled. Empty.

“Come over.”

“What?”

Belle seemed genuinely surprised, but the way her skin flushed and her eyes got big let him know she was very open to the idea.

“Come the fuck over. It’s fucking cold anyway and the heating system at the library is shite at the moment. Come over and I’ll keep you warm, sweetheart.”

He was rather impressed with his blunt bit of bravery, born out of a consuming need more than anything, and even more impressed when it looked like it worked. Belle scrambled out of the chair, throwing a lovely little nightie on before getting her coat and scarf. 

“Be there in a few. See you!”

She disconnected before he could tell her to bundle up. It was fucking freezing outside and that nightie and her stockings and shoes would do nothing against the cold, coat or no coat. A moment later he realised he was sitting down in his pants, socks and shoes and nothing else while Belle fucking French was coming over to... 

Fuck.

He scrambled up, fishing for his cane in a hurry and having just enough presence of mind to disconnect from Zoom. He went upstairs to his room, deciding that it would be awkward for him to still be wearing pants. And socks. And shoes. So he chucked all that off, throwing a dressing gown over his boxers, pausing to put on his house slippers, glad beyond words he had recently bought new ones. After that he went downstairs to the kitchen and popped a bottle of champagne, looking into his pantry for the box of chocolate truffles from Kreuther, a treat he had gotten himself after visiting a state sale in Midtown Manhattan a week ago. He arranged the impromptu offerings on the dining room table, and when the bell rang he told himself he was ready. He opened the door, finding a rosy-cheeked and clearly shivering Belle on the other side, hair windswept, as if she had run there. Taking into account her heels it was rather impressive.

Belatedly he thought about the scene she had walked into. He in his dressing gown, with champagne flutes and truffles on the table and a fire roaring in the living-room, a scenario ripe for debauching. But perhaps she wished to talk more, to explore their emotional intimacy. Perhaps the trek there had killed her ardour and all she wanted and needed was to get warm and comfortable. He didn’t want to come off as… expecting anything.

Belle, however, seemed to not share his concerns. She took one look at him, one look at the softly-lit space behind him and the food laid out and smiled.

“You brilliant, wonderful man.”

A second late she was in his arms. Cold, but soft and smelling of orange blossoms and frost. She tilted her head up, slanting her lips across before he could blink and it was… wonderful. The coolness of her lips contrasted with the searing heat of her mouth, making for a rather delicious contrast of sensations. He used the hand not clutching his cane for dear life to find the buttons of her coat, undoing them one by one with barely-contained impatience. Finally he had the coat opened and could snake his arm around her waist. The silk of her small camisole was soft to the touch, and let him feel the warmth of her skin beneath.

He needed to feel more. Now that she was safe in the warmth of his house she didn’t need her coat or scarves and went about the business of removing both without separating himself from her. It took a lot of tugging and pulling and a couple of missteps that landed her up against the wall, to his utter delight, but she was finally rid of both. Her skin, despite the toasty temperature inside the house, was still chilly from the outside.

“Come close to the fire, sweetheart.”

They managed to stumble across the hallway and into the living room, where they seemed to come to the mutual conclusion that remaining standing was not conducive to their current situation. The rug near the fireplace, thankfully, was thick and soft, and the couple of throw blankets he quickly spread over it made it more so. Once he was satisfied she would be comfortable he let her tackle him to the ground, enjoying having her above him. She was small, especially once she wrestled her heeled boots off. A tiny slip of a woman, shorter than him even, but there was a presence to her, a strength, that he couldn't help but surrender to. Beautiful, terrifying Belle.

“I’ve dreamed of this.” Her voice was low, husky. “You weren’t wearing a dressing gown in my dreams, though.”

“And you weren’t wearing anything in mine.” His accent was so thick he feared she might not be able to understand me. “Tit for tat, dearie.”

She ground herself against him, causing him to hiss and arc. Enough pressure to elicit a response, but not nearly enough to satisfy him.

“Don’t call me that. That’s how you call everyone else, and I’m not everyone else, am I?”

Her confidence slipped for a second, exposing a hint of uncertainty that he was quick to dispel.

“No, sweetheart. Of course not.”

He untied the belt of his dressing gown, managing to slip it off while still pinned by Belle. He didn’t imagine it was a very sexy spectacle but she seemed to appreciate it nevertheless. To reward him she yanked her nightie off, revealing her glorious breasts once again to his hungry stare. She was absolutely perfect, made even better by the way the fire lit her skin and hair, and turned her eyes a deeper blue. She looked fierce yet soft, a magnanimous mistress looking down fondly at a favoured pet. Idly she traced a scar near his right shoulder with the tip of her index finger, frowning the slightest bit.

“I want to know the story behind this. I want to know… more. About you. All there is to know that you wish to tell me.”

“Yes.” Usually he’d balk at the idea of such intimacy, of being so bare. Yet it felt like something he could do with Belle, something he wanted to do. “Yes, of course, sweetheart. And I want to know everything about you.”

She smiled, the gesture slowly turning sultry as she crossed her elbows over his chest.

“We’ll talk… later.”

She kissed him then, slowly and thoroughly, sinking one hand into his hair so she could tilt his head just so. Her fingernails felt delicious against the sensitive skin of his scalp and were a welcome distraction from the uncomfortable pressure of her ass against his groin. He wanted to last, desperately, but she was every wet dream he’d ever had come true. He needed to redirect his attention to anywhere but his aching cock. So he forced himself to focus on anything else. The soft, silky feeling of her skin against the rough pads of his fingers, and the taste of her, faintly sweet. She kissed like it was an art, managing to somehow find every spot that made him want to rip her panties off and just bury himself in her, foreplay be damned.

He startled when he felt her hands trail down his body and grasp the elastic of his underwear, tugging on it to hint at what she wanted. He obliged her before he could talk himself out of it, raising his hips so she could slide the boxers off his legs while still kissing. He felt her touch his mangled ankle and forced himself not to flinch or pull back. Blessedly she seemed to notice his discomfort, tugging his boxers off completely and reaching out to place his hands on the sides of her hips, against the scratchy fabric of her underwear. The message was clear, especially when she propped herself against the floor with her hands so she could raise her hips. He gently tugged her pantied down, with slow, careful movements to avoid accidentally ripping the delicate lace and not simply to watch in aroused amusement as Belle fidgeted above him. 

“Patience, sweetheart.”

She whined, kicking her panties off when they reached her ankles and pushing him back a second later, her expression demanding.

“No more delays. We’ve had months of foreplay.”

He found himself agreeing with her. It certainly felt like they had been teasing each other for months, with the shared jokes, the furtive glances, bitten lips and coy smiles. Not that he had even dared dream of it before that night. Belle was too good in every way for a bitter old cripple like himself. Her hands on his cock chased his self-deprecation away, leaving his mind in a blissful state of blankness. Slowly, torturously so, she took him in, her hot, wet cunt enveloping him with the right amount of pressure. It was almost too good a feeling, leaving his nerve-endings too excited to register much else. She was fucking perfect, the feel of her the weight of her above him. Like she was made for him, only he wasn’t that lucky. 

He needed to somehow make it up to her, make it so good she would not regret it. So he focused on establishing a rhythm, steady enough to build up their pleasure, but not too perfect to make it boring. He concentrated on the sounds she made, the perfect little gasps and the occasional, shivery whine that let him know she was enjoying herself. Soon enough, however, coordination and any form of higher thinking went out the window, the pleasure getting to be too much to focus on anything else other than driving himself as deep into her as he possibly could. He had enough presence of mind to sneak a hand between their bodies, slipping it across her wet fold to stimulate her further, determined not to come before she did. When he finally felt it, the blissful fluttering of her inner walls accompanied by a triumphant cry, he let go of his last shreds of self-control, letting his body seek out its needed release, the feeling travelling up his spine and leaving his whole body boneless with satisfaction. 

He grunted when she practically fell on top of him, though he welcomed the reassuring weight of her and the heat from her body. He thought about the champagne and the truffles waiting for them on the dining room table and decided they could wait. As soon as he was able to move he would wrap his dressing gown around Belle and take her and the food and drinks to the bedroom, where they could recoup their energy and talk. And perhaps much later, if he was good, Belle would let him drink champagne from her navel. 

Thank Regina and her fucking Zoom twon halls. He would never complain about them again.

[nagito-kissmaeda]

A Lapse in Judgement - Part 4

CHAPTER ONE: A Dangrous Present CHAPTER TWO: A Past Forgotten CHAPTER THREE: A Foreshadowing CHAPTER FOUR: One Possible Conclusion CHAPTER FIVE: Untethered

Komaeda Nagito x Ultimate Empath!Reader

Summary: Deep down you always knew that it would end this way. Contains: she/her pronouns, emotional torture, canon major character death, suicide ment Read on AO3

You should have seen it coming. Komaeda was weirdly distant after you escaped the funhouse, alone in his room and not answering even when you pleaded for him to open the door. You should have seen the signs, you should have kicked the door down. There were so many things you should have done, but did not.  It made sense that someone would finally take the initiative and get rid of him after the bomb threat, you might even have forgiven them if it had been a gun to the head or a knife to the heart. 

You cup his face in your hands, staring hopelessly into a set of eyes with nothing behind them. Praying that if you look for long enough you will feel something, anything to prove that he is still in there somewhere. Your throat is dry and raw from a constant string of screams and sobs that you can't even hear. 

“Hey, c’mon. You have to get up.” Hinata says, reaching out and resting a hand on your shoulder.

You whirl around and the pity living behind the eyes of six different people slams into you. It only makes you angrier, “I am not leaving him.” you suck a breath in through your teeth, hot tears pouring down your face, “One of you did this .” you gesture to the empty vessel that had once held the soul of the man you loved, “Someone tortured him. You know perfectly well that he wouldn’t have resisted if someone tried to kill him. They didn't have to do this, they could have just stabbed him and been done with it, but no . The mother fucker tortured him.” you turn back to the body and brush some of the bloody hair away from his forehead, “You can do your worthless little investigation around me, but I am not moving.”

Your hear Hinata sigh behind you and suggest that everyone start investigating elsewhere for now. Sonia mutters some words of apology in your direction, but you ignore her and listen as only five sets of shoes leave the warehouse. Your fingers cart shakily through Komaeda’s hair and you ask, “Why are you still here?” 

Kuzuryu rounds the body and drops into a crouch on the other side. He doesn't say anything, he just stares at you. Behind his eyes you can feel more than just pity, it’s deeper, more complex. Empathy, guilt, understanding . 

“You know what i'm trying to say right?” He huffs, “I don't really understand how your weird-ass talent works, but you felt that. Didn’t you?”

“Oh.” You whisper, heart tensing with a sudden realisation, “Pekoyama.”

He turns away from you, a silent indication that these emotions were for him and him alone, “Yeah.” he says. 

You sniffle, trying to stop yourself from crying again while gently stroking Komaeda’s cheekbone with your thumb, “He was scared of dying alone.”

Kuzuryu doesn't say anything, but he also makes no move to leave.

“I know i probably couldn't have stopped it but, i wish i could have been there. I wish he could have seen me. I just hate…” your breathing is raggard, it’s hard to speak, “I know he did some fucked up shit, i know! But I loved him, I did and I don't even really know why. It’s just, it's...just-” your hands are looping around on eachother, circular, as you try to explain feelings that don't make sense, “-it’s like we’ve been here before. Like I love him because I already loved him, and will love him again and again and again ad infinitum.” You’re sobbing now, Kuzurya reaches across Komaeda’s corpse and rests a hand on your shoulder. A noise more like a shriek than a sob rips through you and your hands tangle in your hair, “I feel like i'm going crazy…” you whisper.  

“It’s grief.” He replies, “One day, we’ll both get over it.”

*

The trial is arduous. You were not around for much of the investigation, but that didn't matter to Monokuma, he dragged you kicking and screaming into the elevator and over to your podium. Everyone keeps looking at you, at the way your hair is frazzled from your grasping fingers and the barely dried tear tracks running down your cheeks. You can tell that Souda especially is just waiting for you to snap, like Komaeda once did. 

Your fingers are gripped white around the front of your podium, eyes locked only on the photograph across the room. Your mouth curls at the irony, that even he is staring at you. Judging you . 

Hinata is leading the discussion as usual, but there is a moment of silence every now and again. Like he is waiting for input from someone who cannot speak. A bottomless void, a lapse in more than just conversation. Hinata clenches his fist tight. 

You aren’t paying much attention, your talent has been acting up. You’ve been feeling things that aren’t even there, from a past life? From someone else’s? Nervous shaky hands cupping your cheeks, one hand and one glove slowly lifting the hem of your shirt. Lips that taste like summer and lips that taste like desperation. You can’t remember anything tangible, but god can you feel . Two sets of hands, two pairs of lips. Completely differently but irrecoverably similar. You feel like throwing up. 

“What do you think?” Hinata asks and you are ripped back to the present.

“Huh?” 

His brow is pulled tight, but his eyes are apologising to you and begging you to stay calm, “Would Komaeda commit suicide?” 

“I….WHAT? No!” You can’t believe it, you can’t believe the shit Hinata is trying to pull, “did you see the body? You think he did that to himself?!” 

Nanami turns to you. Giving you a gentle smile, “It’s okay.” She says, “we’re just working through it, but we need your help.” you’re shaking with a barely contained mania, teeth grinding and tears building in your eyes. Nanami just keeps smiling, and she means it. You can feel her fear, but even more than that, you can feel how deeply she cares for you. For all of you, “You knew him the best, didn’t you? Do you think he would do it?”

You feel calmer. Taking in a deep breath through your nose, “Not without a reason. He would never kill himself just for the sake of dying, he’s smart. He was trying to accomplish something.”

Nanami nods and rests a hand over her heart, “thank you. Considering what we found in his cabin, along with your testimony, I think it was more than just a suicide.”

What they found in the cabin was poison. Taken from the final dead room. You are dimly aware that it was probably in his pocket while he was fucking you, you turn your eyes to the ground. 

“We also found...one other thing.” Hinata mutters, he pulls an envelope out from his pocket and passes it over to you. Everyone is leaning in, trying to get a glimpse at what it is, “It was on the bookshelf, it’s addressed to you.”

Your hands are shaking as you grip the paper. You reach out and trace the lines of your name written in his messy handwriting. The envelope is still sealed.The trial continues. 

The reveal of the poison reveals a motive. Komaeda was trying to take the traitor down with him, the poison hidden in plain sight and his luck rolled the dice. Hinata runs through everything, piece by piece but there is no way to know who did it. No way to know who the traitor is. Unless of course, they come forward.

Nanami’s smile is heartbreaking. Hinata’s jaw is clenched tight when he realises the truth, whispering her name so gently so sweetly, like he is begging her to tell him that it’s all just a lie.  

You have a feeling though, twisting and turning in your stomach as Nanami begs for your votes. You try and ignore it to just vote for the traitor that Komaeda had wanted to kill, but the longer you waited the more the thought festered inside you. your fingers are still curled tightly around the envelope you don’t want to open, and his fingers are skill curled around your heart.

“Wait!” The word escapes from your mouth like a thunderclap, everyone’s eyes turn to you, “Please don't vote yet.”

Nanami tilts her head, a sweet smile on her lips that doesn't match the sorrow in her eyes “It’s okay. I need to go.”

You feel a tear spill over and run slowly down your cheek. Your hands are shaking, “Nanami. You don't .”

Souda groans, “I thought we were done! Why do you guys keep doing this?”

“Yeah.” Hinata says turning to you, “What is it? What happened?”

Your mouth opens and closes as you struggle to find the words. The room is closing around you and it feels like there is a vice affixed to your lungs, “What if he didn't want to kill the traitor. What if he wanted to kill everyone else?” 

“WHAT?” Souda screams, and the room fills with noise. Everyone is arguing and talking over each other, but you don't even hear it. Your fingers are shaking as you flip the envelope over, running your nail under the seam delicately, wanting to make sure it doesn't tear. (you don’t notice, but Monokuma is leaning forward with a grin on his face). It pops open and you reach inside. It isn't really a letter, it’s little more than a few worlds scrawled onto a notecard, but it changes to course of the trial all the same.

My life for yours

I love you

You clap a hand over your mouth and a sob rips through you. Tears rolling down your cheeks in rivlets as your body shakes, you collapse forward onto the podium. Your legs have given out. It was you . That moment in the funhouse, when his smile softed and his eyes turned bright, he thought the traitor was you . Because you took the time to love him, whatever sin he believed the rest of your cohort committed he thought you absolved. Innocent. You weren’t . He died for you and you weren't even the person he wanted to save. Did you even deserve to live now? Knowing it was a fictional version of yourself that he died for and not your true self? You knew the answer, and it made your next move just a little easier. 

You swallow, using your arms to push yourself back up. Breathing as deeply and evenly as you can, you force yourself to smile, “I killed him.” the words feel disgusting on your tongue, but they are true all the same, “It was me.” all the eyes in the room turn to you and you can feel them all, the confusion, the hatred, the sadness, it fills you up until you are bubbling over, crying and laughing all at once, “he thought i was the traitor. The grenade with the poison, I threw it. Nanami is innocent.” You pass the note back to Hinata, and his face pales when he reads it.

“But I thought…” Sonia starts, watching the realisation dawn on Hinata’s face, “I thought Nanami was the traitor.” 

“She is.” You say, “But...I was kind to him.” You turn to Hinata again, it’s hard to see him through your watery eyes, “Will you convince them for me?”

Hinata’s face is grave, but he nods.

*

There is little time for goodbyes. Just before Monokuma pulls you away, Nanami grabs you by the hand and smiles.

“They told me to keep an eye on the two of you.” She says, “What happens twice will always happen a third time.

”“What do you mean?”

A tear cascades down her cheek, you notice it glitters eerily in a way real tears never would, “love transcends memory.”

“Wait- Nanami what-” 

“ALL RIGHT! TIMES UP!” Monokuma yells, “And I have the perfect punishment ready for the Ultimate Empath.”

You grab Nanami’s hand tighter, desperation racing up your spine, “Nanami, what happened two times? You have to tell me please-”

A metal collar snaps around your throat and you’re tugged backwards, feet scrambling against the ground as it races under you. Your reach out a hand, Nanami’s name screeching from your lips but the familiar figures of your classmates grow smaller and smaller as you disappear down a hallway and into the darkness. Something slams you down in a small wooden chair, the room is pitch black and you can't see a single thing. 

You try to struggle and a set of metal shackles clamp around your wrists and ankles. It’s quiet. You can hear the sound of your rapid heartbeat and the whirring of machinery. You’re going to die. A sob catches in your throat and you squeeze your eyes shut to keep the tears from spilling over. Then, a flash of light behind your eyelids, and something (or someone) comes up from behind you, forcing your eyes open.

 “No…” you whimper, struggling against your restraints with a new determination. The metal bites into your skin and you writhe and shake, your heart is pounding and you can't breathe , “NO! Don't make me look. Don't. PLEASE!” 

Whatever they are using to keep your eyes open does not relent. You are sobbing and begging and pleading, but they make you watch.

Komaeda is sticking the duct tape over his mouth. He lifts up the knife, and the determination in his eyes morphs into fear. His hand shakes, and he drives the knife into his thigh. You scream, trying so hard to escape that the chair is creaking and groaning under you. He stabs again and again and again. Knife down the arm, knife through the palm. You feel it all. Slamming your head backwards into the back of the chair, bitterly hoping that you’ll crack your skull open like an egg. You want to die. 

He is just lying there now. All alone. Staring up at the spear where it dangles above him. It hurts, it hurts so much. He is all alone, you left him to die all alone. You’re like a rabid animal, twisting and turning in the chair, unhinged and terrified. He is still just lying there . You can’t stop crying, your chest is hurting from the way your breath heaves and from the shrieks that won't stop leaving your throat. Then, a door opens. Now that you know to listen for it, you recognise the sound of monokuma panels toppling over, and the woosh as the curtain catches alight. The determination in his eyes is back, but then…

“Oh god! Is he back there?” That was your voice, “We need to put out this fire, if he’s back there he's going to die!”

Komaeda laughs behind the tape. Eyes softening. He loves you loves you loves you. He’s going to miss you. 

You aren't making any noise anymore, your mouth is hung open in a silent scream as you feel your heart beating in tandem with his, “I love you…too” you whisper, your voice shattered and wheezy.

His eyes open wider and for a moment you think he heard you, but then you realise what he heard was the sound of the fire grenades shattering. For the first time, during this whole ordeal, he feels regret. Just before the poison reaches him, he changes his mind, maybe he doesn't want to die. It kills you. Your very being is twisting and warping, your heart catches on a hook and is reeled back into shore, the tears running down your face begin to boil and steam. You watch him as he starts to writhe, screaming inaudibly behind the tape, struggling against his restraints as the poison enters his system....and you feel it.

Finality, relief, and a bittersweet goodbye. 

His eyes glaze over, and your soul rips in half.

But then, the joke is on Monokuma, because whatever he does to you, however he deals the final blow. It doesn't matter. You are no longer there. You’re in a classroom a million miles away, sitting on the windowsill with the boy you are in love with. His nervous fingers, gently intertwined with yours.

[floralseokjin]

The Zoom Halloween Party

⇢ and beyond timeline (after crystallised)

[saga index] [drabble index]

 kim seokjin x reader // slice of life, humour // 2,556 words  

a/n; thank you to all the anons who gave me ideas for this halloween drabble, it wouldn’t exist without you! 

“I have to say your costumes are pretty lame this year, you guys.”

“We’re having a Halloween party over fucking zoom, forgive us for not going all out.” 

Seokjin bit straight away, unable to help it. He and Namjoon were like cat and mouse at all times, but even you had to admit to being offended by your friend’s dismissal. 

Halloween was finally here, and while you couldn’t celebrate in person together, the marvels of technology were letting you celebrate virtually – although this was more like a Halloween hang out than a Halloween party. 

“I’m just saying,” Namjoon shrugged. “Hoseok went all out for his.” 

You looked over at Hoseok’s screen, watching him smile smugly. You had to admit he made a great Joker, but it was also the year 2020... He and his girlfriend, Nora were like two years behind with the whole Joker and Harley Quinn gimmick, it was old now. 

Seokjin rolled his eyes, willing to argue black and blue. “It’s only good because his mom helped him with the makeup.” 

“Oh shut up, you’re just jealous because me and Hoseok will win best dressed tonight!” Nora scoffed under Hoseok in her own little screen. 

Pouting like a baby, your boyfriend crossed his arms. “I’m not voting for you.” 

“If anything, I should win. I make a mighty fine Batman.” 

Attention back on Namjoon now, you all had to agree. But maybe that was because everyone was feeling sorry for him tonight. He was after all, the only single one amongst you. There was Jin and you, Lina and Jimin, Hoseok and Nora, and even though Sandeul was on his own tonight, he had Jess, who was working the night shift tonight. Two months ago there had also been Namjoon and Hana, but not anymore... Let’s just say Namjoon wasn’t having the best of time lately... Getting dumped during a pandemic wasn’t ideal. So he’d paired with Hobi and Nora tonight in some sort of DC-esque collab. He was definitely winning best dressed tonight, but maybe he’d see it as a pity vote… 

“You’re body looks amazing in that suit, Joon,” you complimented, hearing Lina hum in supportive agreement. 

“Hey!” Seokjin exclaimed, sounding mighty offended as he looked your way. You were smushed together on the couch, the takeout you’d ordered on your laps, but you were pretty full now, a belly full of wine already. 

“The devil and an angel though.” Jimin’s voice sounded awfully judgemental. “Come on guys, so basic.” 

“Well, who the hell did you to come as?” Seokjin was loud. 

“Zombie Jim Halpert and Pam Beesly,” Lina replied as if your boyfriend was dumb. 

“Lame,” Seokjin scoffed. “Half of these guys haven’t even watched The Office.” 

“It’s a way more original idea than yours.”

You scoffed. “Um, this is the epitome of everyone’s sexual fantasy, I’ll have you know.” 

“Whose?!” Lina roared, wrinkling her nose. She and Jimin were also squished together, but on his bed, the camera angle giving you an amazing shot of their chins... Not that you would tell your best friend that, of course. 

“We all know what they’re doing after this then,” Sanduel stated. He was dressed as some character from a game he and Seokjin played (a lot.) Nerds.  

“Stop,” Hoseok whined. “Does that mean you guys fucked as The Addams family couple last year?”

“Of course it does,” Namjoon replied matter-of-factly. 

“Jesus.” 

Ah yes, you two really had out done yourselves last year for Namjoon and Hoseok’s joint Halloween party. Thinking about it maybe your devil and angel costumes were quite lame this year…

“As if you didn’t guess,” Lina laughed. “They were reciting all those weird lines practically dry humping in the kitchen at one point.” 

That was your cue, slamming into action, although as luck would have it you had re-watched The Addams Family two nights ago. You gripped Seokjin’s face, yanking him to look at you. “Seokjin, last night you were unhinged.” You began dramatically. “You were like some desperate, howling demon. You frightened me.” A pause for effect. “Do it again!” 

Seokjin took your hand, in character immediately. He leaned down to kiss your knuckles. “Cara mia.” 

You opened your mouth, ready to purr out mon cher in your best French accent but you were interrupted by Namjoon’s gagging noises. “That’s it, I’m leaving.” 

Seokjin snapped his head around, unamused. “Bye.” 

Everyone laughed… just before Hoseok sighed. “Aw, this makes me so depressed. I miss last year, when things were simpler.” 

“This was the worst year to officially become an adult.” Nora joined in with a whine. 

They were 100% correct. There couldn’t have been a worse year to graduate… The past few months had been so stressful but thankfully you were now in a much more stable place. Granted, you hadn’t been able to start the post-graduate internship you’d bagged right before the pandemic hit yet but eventually it would happen, and in the meantime you still had your retail job – and your savings. 

Seokjin had truly lucked out, although his job at his father’s company had been set in stone since high school. He was working remotely until the end of the year (hopefully), rocking that business on top, casual down bottom fashion that he was so gleefully fond of – think a dress shirt and sweatpants ensemble – but you were so incredibly proud of him for adjusting so well after this shitfest of a year. He was your sexy, serious businessman. 

Your friends hadn’t been as lucky though – well, mainly Hoseok and Namjoon who had recently moved back home with their parents while they job hunted. (That’s why the former and Nora were on separate screens – she still lived close by for work.) Lina hated her new job and Jimin still had a year left at college, so maybe he was better off at the moment... Sanduel and Jess were okay too, and had recently moved in with one another, leaving you and Seokjin to… follow suit… 

It came as a surprise to you both, but it made more sense than the two of you living alone. You’d already grown used to it during those couple of months of lockdown at the start of the year and it felt weird after he’d left... It was a big step, but an easy one once you’d found the most perfect apartment to rent together. (You couldn’t officially live with one another in that shoebox of an old apartment, but it had been sad to leave it – you’d shared so many good times there.) It had only been about six weeks since you’d become official roomies, but you were loving every second of domestic bliss. Despite this crazy year, things were on the up, and you were very happy. 

“Now we’re freshly graduated bums.” Namjoon moaned, knocking back the last of his beer.

Seokjin laughed. “Speak for yourself.” 

“We can’t all have a CEO for a dad,” Namjoon shot. 

“That sounds like a you problem.” 

You pushed at your boyfriend’s shoulder, silently telling him to behave. Where was the sympathy for his heartbroken friend?

“At least you’re not stuck doing online classes.” Jimin piped up. 

“I’d actually kill to be back there,” Namjoon chuckled. “I’m sick of receiving rejection emails.” 

“Don’t give up hope, bro.” Hoseok told him. “I have an interview next week so fingers crossed.” 

Nora squealed. “I hope you get it, babe. You need to get your ass back here. I miss you.” 

You all missed him. And Namjoon. Even if you couldn’t all hang out like you were once able to, it was strange to think they were both living in different cities now. Last year seemed like an eternity ago, all you had were memories and even then they were murky. 

“Guys, please,” Namjoon wailed, forehead hitting the screen as he threw forward dramatically. “One of us is single here.” 

“Sorry.” 

In fact, you all felt the need to apologise, a string of them following for no real reason other than you felt really bad for the guy. You knew he’d find a job soon, that wasn’t the problem really – whatever the company they’d be a fool to turn him down – you were just concerned about his mood. Getting dumped had come out of the blue so he was still adjusting, all while his life turned upside down in other ways too. 

He hadn’t lost all sense of humour though, his trademark smirk growing across his face a few moments later. “So who will end up fucking on camera first?” 

Amongst the groans, Sanduel scoffed. “Probably Mr and Mrs. Devil.” 

“I’m an angel,” you corrected, a glass of wine back in your hand now. “Also, why would we fuck on camera? You guys don’t deserve the show.” 

“God, you’re so drunk,” Lina screeched. She wasn’t exactly sober herself. Beside her Jimin winced at the volume. 

“Of course I’m drunk, Lina, this is the first proper chance I’ve had in months.” Getting drunk alone was pretty miserable, now you had an excuse. 

“So it’s definitely them who’ll start fucking first…” Hoseok muttered. 

Seokjin heard him loud and clear though. He hooked his arm around your shoulders, pulling you against him. “Yeah if we leave randomly you know this angel got horny for some devil dick.” 

“Seokjin!” You exclaimed, pushing at his chest. He just laughed, reaching down to kiss you. 

He did look mighty fine dressed as a devil though. Yeah, the red cape was basic but so were your angel wings and halo, but with his dark hair pushed back above his forehead, two red devil horns visible and his eyeshadow off the scale (your doing), he made a very, very sexy Satan! 

Jimin pulled a face. “You’re actually going to fuck in those costumes, aren’t you?” 

“Of course we are.” Seokjin rolled his eyes. “That’s what Halloween’s all about.” 

“No, it’s not,” Nora laughed. 

“I don’t know why you’re all so surprised,” Sandeul sighed before shovelling down some candy corn. 

“You know them better than anyone,” Namjoon chuckled. 

“I was the first to know! Sworn to secrecy for weeks!”

“Yeah, and she didn’t tell me for so long,” Lina whined. Even though it was ages ago now you were still pretty sure she was salty about it. 

Hoseok snickered. “It was because she was embarrassed to be fucking him.” 

You scoffed, about to refute his claims but Sanduel had more to say apparently. “And then I had to deal with Jin moping around when she dumped him for that basketball player.” 

“She didn’t dump me,” Seokjin protested. “We won’t together then.” 

“Bro, you were still moping though.” 

“Awh, you guys,” you whined, running your fingers through the hair on the back of Seokjin’s head. “Stop teasing him.” You leaned in to kiss his cheek but he moved, stealing one from your lips instead. 

“Great Deul, you’ve started them off again.” Hoseok moaned. 

“I don’t care anyway. The amount of times I’ve heard them going at it has made me immune.” 

“Sanduel, we’re not that bad!” You complained, leaning forward to place your glass down on the coffee table. 

Seokjin had your back. “As if we haven’t heard you and Jess fuck before.” 

That however was not at all interesting to your friends though. They blatantly ignored it for a more interesting direction of topic.  

“Did you ever catch them?” Jimin asked, sounding weirdly excited. 

“No actually, which is baffling.” 

“You nearly did – multiple times,” Seokjin informed him, which instantly turned Sanduel grey. Not bothered, my ass. 

“Why are you guys so obsessed with our sex life?” You whined loudly. Was theirs that boring? 

“Ooo, let’s play a game!!” Lina exploded suddenly, sitting up, her head now cut off from the screen. “Who’s the freakiest!!!” 

Seokjin turned to you gleefully. “We got this in the bag, babe.” 

In your eyes, the questions were quite tame, so yes, you and Seokjin really were scoring first place left and right. Although you had a hunch Lina was holding back information. As her best friend you knew what she was like and she was being awfully quiet for someone who’d suggested the game… 

“Where’s the weirdest place you’ve ever boned?” Nora asked, six questions in. 

Seokjin didn’t even need a second. “Namjoon’s bedroom.” Your eyes bulged immediately, surprised he’d gone there. 

“What?” Namjoon choked. 

“Sorry, man. It just kinda happened.” Seokjin glanced at you, deeply amused. Poor Namjoon didn’t need more bad news. 

“You guys have fucked in my bedroom?” 

“Well, technically it’s not your bedroom anymore, but yeah,” you shrugged.  

“When?” 

The third degree was real. “A while back.”  

“What the fuck you guys,” he groaned, his face a picture. “And you didn’t think to tell me?” 

“You don’t even know the half of it.” Lina couldn’t help but add. 

“You, be quiet!” You warned, although you knew she wouldn’t spill. Your secret was safe with her. 

Namjoon was looking more and more scared by the second. “What the fuck did you guys do in there?” Seokjin just laughed loudly. “Did you at least clean up?” He got no reply. He was deadly serious with his next question. “Did you make Ryan watch?” 

“Namjoon!” Seokjin cried, practically wiping tears from your eyes. Maybe he was more drunk than you… You hadn’t realised. “He’s a stuffed animal.” 

“That plush is all I have now.” 

“Pity, the guy’s recently been dumped. This is bullying,” Hoseok interrupted, sticking up for his friend. 

“It’s not,” your boyfriend insisted. 

“Aw, Namjoon, I’m sorry,” you apologised, feeling guilty now. How could you make it up to him? “When all this is over you can come over and fuck someone in our bedroom.” 

“What,” Seokjin protested. You ignored him. 

“Who though?” Namjoon asked, sounding sad. 

“You’ll meet someone new soon enough.” Lina reassured him. “You’re any girls dream guy.”  

He perked up at that. “You think so?”

“Legit, man,” Jimin joined in. 

“Wait,” Sandeul interrupted, seemingly realising something. “Is the costume roleplay exclusive to Halloween?” 

… Of course the conversation was back on you and Jin…

“Why?” You asked. 

“Because Namjoon had a fancy dress party for his birthday last year…” 

Seokjin shrugged. “Any celebration.” 

Sanduel instantly looked disgusted. “So you guys fucked as The Incredibles couple?” 

You and Seokjin didn’t reply, but your faces said it all. 

Namjoon groaned loudly. “I want to scoop my brain out.” Then he thought of something. “Was it in my bedroom?” 

“Noooo!” 

“Yes.” 

You both replied at the same time and you pushed Seokjin. Now he was just purposely teasing his friend. 

“Who’s lying?” Namjoon demanded, but Sanduel was too busy going through it, distracting you all. 

“The Incredibles is my favourite childhood movie, man, now I feel gross. I can’t watch it ever again because I’ll imagine you two trying to superhero fuck.” 

Your friends were way too dramatic. It wasn’t even a big deal, they were making it out to be way kinkier than it was, and Seokjin wasn’t helping matters. You were literally just having normal sex dressed up. That’s all. 

“This game has taught me I’m best friends with a bunch of vanilla ice creams,” Seokjin tutted. “It’s called having fun. Something you guys can’t seem to do.” 

“You all suck!” You agreed. 

Hm, maybe you were just as guilty as your boyfriend… It was just too damn amusing goading your friends… 

[tobesobri]

𝓦elcome to a brand new story from me that I never thought I would be posting but here we are! This chapter is very much introductory, which is like obvious being the first chapter but tbh I don’t really do a lot of introducing characters right off the bat in a descriptive way often so this was new for me! Also, I have an old taglist from a while ago when I was originally going to post this, but I don’t want to randomly tag people who may no longer be interested SO if you’d like to be included on a taglist for upcoming chapters please let me know! Thank you! 

huge massive thank you to the incredible @youresogolden-h​ for editing ❤️

Chapter One: Where Happiness Begins (5.4k)

Harry and Y/N are friends…. with benefits, but not the kinds you’re thinking of.

🥥MASTERLIST 🌃INSPO TAG 🌻ASK TAG 💃PLAYLIST 🛌

There was something very different when she woke that Saturday morning. Maybe her breath smelled a little worse than normal. Maybe the sun shined a little brighter through her curtains than it was supposed to...

Maybe there was someone in her bed who didn’t belong there. 

“Oh my god.”

Friday night was not unlike every other night that week. There was an endless bag of chips she dug her Hot Cheeto dust covered fingers into and an over-watched series on Netflix open on her laptop in front of her. And when she wasn’t distracted by Sam and Dean Winchester, she was bawling her eyes out under the comfort of her thrifted quilt, staining her poor mismatched pillowcases.

Just like any given night.

And this Friday was no different. At least not until there was a knock on her door.

By the time she dried her face, it was almost completely unnoticeable she’d just been buried in hysterics only seconds ago.

“Harry’s coming over. You want anything from the store?” Will asked, the same Will who stuck them all together in the very beginning of splitting rent on an apartment four different ways.

He was the roommate who paid the most in rent and got the biggest room with his own private bathroom. One of the two roommates who constantly had his significant other over every night to make Y/N’s miserable time even worse. Between Will and Violet’s incessant need to take over the entire living room every weekend, Y/N was bound to end up in her own room alone crying her eyes out for no apparent reason.

Then there was her third roommate, James, who never bothered her because she was lucky to catch a fleeting glimpse of him every other week.

Y/N glanced at the phone he had pressed to his cheek, assuming Harry was on the other end of the line, on hold. Just the mention of his name sucked every sad little tear back into her skull. She didn’t know why, but having Harry around always seemed to do the trick.

Even though she barely spoke a word to him over the course of the last eighteen months she’d known him.

She buried her excitement about Harry coming over and frowned, answering as if she was she couldn’t care less even though... she cared way more than she should. “No.”

And before Will could protest, she shut the door in his face and retreated back to her bed.

Not every night was spent in agonizing spirals of self-pity and dread, but it came and went. Some days were fine. She was happy by the time she went to bed at night and didn’t have nightmares or anxiety that kept her up past her self-proclaimed bedtime. Most days, she ate regularly and went about her nightly routine with a genuine smile on her face. But recently, it had all gone to shit.

And there was no explanation. There never was. She didn’t just break up with a long-term boyfriend. No one called her an ugly bitch on the train home. Her boss didn’t yell at her for the umpteenth time about her inadequacies at work.

She was just... alone. Painfully and tragically alone.

She hated how black and white it was. That she was either happy to be alive or praying for a very large rock to fall on her and end it all. There was never an in-between and it made her feel like all her emotions were made up, like she wasn’t ever truly happy or she was sad over really stupid things.

It was a fucking nightmare.

Another agonizing thirty minutes went by before she heard from Will again. Before she heard more than just her roommate's voice through the thin walls. Before she could literally feel her

brain swell with more serotonin than she’d had in a long time when it was Harry’s voice she heard.

He was like an unusual ray of sunshine. Every time he was over at their apartment, it was like he was some kind of ancient sun god warding off all the evil spirits sitting on her shoulders. Which...she knew was quite strange, but she really couldn’t--nor did she want to--fight off how he made her feel.

Even if he wasn’t an internationally famous pop-sensation, she still couldn’t put her finger on why he made her feel like sunshine and butterflies whenever he was around. Which had been quite often recently on account of his upcoming album needing desperate help from Will.

Okay. She hadn’t heard a damn thing from the album, but the conversations they had about it weren’t always good. It was delayed, apparently, and Harry was in the middle of a massive writing block that led him to an impromptu trip to Barcelona the previous week.

And so now he was back. To work on the album, and, upon Y/N’s quiet arrival into the kitchen of her shared apartment, to pig out on junk food. Will hovered over the kitchen island while they figured out which movie, among a small stack of romantic comedies, to watch first.

Once Harry noticed her, he instantly stood up straight, shoving the last bit of a Kit-Kat bar into his mouth quickly to hide it from her; as if she cared about the Harry Styles munching on chocolate and sweets.

“What’re you doing?” Y/N asked Will, even though Harry was the only one paying her any attention. She didn’t often make eye contact with him, or even speak to him at all for that matter. But Harry was used to it. He was used to her mumbling and her short phrases. The way whenever he looked at her, she always looked away.

“Pretty Woman or Notting Hill?” Will turned to her finally, holding up both DVD boxes in his hands for Y/N to choose from, completely ignoring her previous question.

“Um... I’ve never seen them.”

Will rolled his eyes and placed the Blu-Ray boxes back down on the granite countertop, “Should’ve known that. You only watch scary shit.”

It was quiet after that for a moment. A long moment of Harry awkwardly glancing between Will and Y/N. Though his glances towards her did not come easily. Just the thought of looking at her was like his body went into fight or flight mode. Fight through the nerves and the butterflies in his stomach or fly the hell out of there.

She was like an unfriendly cat who didn’t seem to like him one bit, and it drove him insane. All his attempts to have a normal conversation with her had been fruitless. She never said more than one word to him at a time. Maybe two, if she was feeling generous. He didn’t get it at all, but he got used to it. Maybe she just didn’t have any room in her life for another person and certainly not for a person like him.

“Well, I vote for Pretty Woman,” Will said, making up everyone’s minds for them, and when he glanced at the other two, they didn’t seem to care. “Pretty Woman it is then. Y/N,” Will glanced at her exclusively while he began gathering snacks and the movie, “are you watching it too?”

“Uh.. no.” She continued into the kitchen, walking behind Harry toward the fridge and making every single nerve in his body light up. He had no idea why she, of all people on the planet he’d come into contact with, made him as nervous as she did. But, here he was. Stepping out of her way and swallowing the pit in his throat when he got a whiff of her all-too-familiar coconut scented shampoo.

And that scent just about made his head spin. It took him right back to the night he’d gotten drunk off his ass after a long day of work. She’d offered her bed to him since he was too tall for their couches, and she had been up late working herself anyways. Most of the night had been forgotten, but he very distinctly remembered stuffing his face into her pillowcases and letting the scent of her shampoo completely engulf his nostrils as he fell asleep. And it took him back to the following morning where he wobbled his hungover ass to the shower and accidentally (on purpose) used her coconut scented shampoo.

And then the entire rest of the day he smelled exactly like her and hadn’t gone a single minute without thinking of her. Thinking of her soft voice and what it would feel like to hear her saying his name just once. Thinking about the way she sometimes smiled at him like maybe she didn’t hate him as much as he thought. Thinking about her hair spread over her pillowcase and tucking loose strands behind her ear while she slept peacefully beside him...

Harry was also, very, very alone.

So alone that he spent more nights at other people’s homes, particularly Will’s, than his own. Even though he had an insanely expensive house all to himself up in the gated hills of Los Angeles, it was nothing compared to being surrounded by people he cared about instead of lifeless appliances.

He blamed it on the city. It always had a way of making him feel alienated. Even if it was the city that recognized him most often, it almost made him feel even more alone than he already was. Because none of the people he met along the way really knew him. They weren’t with him at the end of the day when he broke down on the floor in his bathroom. They didn’t see the dark parts of his life where he often wished he could take it all back just to be normal again. To have normal conversations and normal relationships with people he wasn’t constantly paranoid were trying to get something out of him.

So, in a way, he understood Y/N’s unwillingness to let him in, because he did it all the time. The thing he didn’t understand was why she had any reason to worry about the people in her life. No one was out to get her money or make themselves famous off of her. But there was a reason for it anyways, and it just about killed the curious cat in his mind every time he was at her apartment and she continued to not peep a single unnecessary word to him.

By the time he and Will had settled onto their respective spots in the living room, Harry tucked back into the cushions of their armchair and Will spread out on the loveseat opposite him, Y/N had already retreated back into her bedroom with her glass of ice water.

“Think that’s the most I’ve ever heard her talk.” Harry said, while Will skipped through the outdated commercials on the DVD.

Will’s lips turned up into a very knowing grin and he nodded, “She’s always been quiet, man. I told you not to take it personally.”

“How did you get her to talk?”

That was a question Harry had never asked before out of the countless stupid ones he had in the past. The stupidest was probably when he’d first met her and then proceeded to ask Will shortly after if Y/N was mute.

Will shrugged, “I’ve known her for a long time. It’s not like she goes on and on around me either though. That’s just how she is. And she probably just doesn’t like you that much.”

Harry huffed and sat back into his chair, giving up on it. He couldn’t force her to be his friend, as much as he wanted her to be.

The movie went on without Harry because he was completely lost in his own mind, however, Will seemed to be completely enthralled with Julia Roberts. Harry just couldn’t bring himself to focus on the television screen for more than a minute at a time.

It wasn’t until he heard a door down the hall click open that he brought himself back to reality and let his eyes wander to the sound behind him as Y/N stepped quietly out from her bedroom again. He knew she was the only other roommate home tonight and, yet, he still made the mistake of looking in her direction and, fucking finally, locking eyes with her. It was brief, but it was enough to stir up the enormous pot of butterflies in his stomach again.

Without a single word, she sat on the last unoccupied piece of furniture between the both of them, Harry still in a bit of shock and Will grinning with his eyes glued to the screen.

“Changed your mind, did you?” Will asked cheekily.

“Shut up,” she mumbled back at him before reaching toward the opened bag of untouched Hershey kisses. “Can I have one of these?”

Will finally peered over at her from his spot and then glanced at Harry across the coffee table, “You’ll have to ask Harry. He brought them.”

Her hand froze and she reluctantly turned her attention toward Harry, which had been the first time since he arrived that she voluntarily looked at him. She had no fucking clue how she was going to sit there and ask Harry for one of his Hershey kisses. Or if she even wanted them desperately enough.

The question went unasked, but the look on her face said more than enough. She was already waiting for his answer. And upon seeing the look on her face, Harry couldn’t possibly find it in himself to force her to say a damn thing. So he just cleared his throat instead, “Uh, it’s alright. You can have as many as you want.”

He watched as she grabbed a couple foil sealed chocolates and settled back into the corner of her own loveseat again, never willing to admit that he’d bought them especially for her. Because it had somehow managed to become common knowledge that they were her favorite candy and while wandering the local corner market, he spotted them and thought of her. His brain at the time thought there might be some minuscule possibility that if he brought one of her favorite foods over she might eventually start to like him.

Even if that didn’t happen though, he was still reeling from that one brief moment of interaction for the entire rest of the night. Splurging on an overpriced package of cavities had been well worth it.

It wasn’t until the movie ended that both Harry and Y/N realized Will was dead asleep. That he was no longer conscious enough to use the remote resting on his chest and turn the movie off. So, after a little while of staring at the credits, Y/N stood and grabbed it, flipping the controls until she brought up regular TV channels and then eventually settled for a horror movie Harry had never seen and had no intentions to. But, if it meant he got more time with Y/N, he’d sit through just about anything she wanted to watch.

And then finally, the sugar he’d consumed got to his head.

“Do you always watch scary movies before bed?” He asked, completely lost in his daydreams and not fully realizing he’d asked her a full-blown question until it was out of his mouth. Once he came to his senses, he wanted to shove every last word back into his mouth and pretend he never said anything.

That was, until a couple silent moments went by and she finally said something. “Makes the nightmares more interesting.”

He didn’t expect her to say anything at all, and so for her to say that, he had no idea how to respond to her. Was she being... sarcastic? He didn’t even know she was capable of being funny.

So he laughed, not too loudly in case she wasn’t joking. But all his worries were relieved when she glanced at him and giggled too.

He didn’t dare bring up any of the questions floating around in his mind in fear that she’d never speak another word to him ever again once he’d finally managed to break through the walls somehow. Now that he’d made groundbreaking progress with her, there was no way he was asking her why she never talked to him or why she was so quiet. So he kept a fine-tuned filter over what words came out of his mouth.

“Does that mean you have uninteresting nightmares then?” Harry really did try his damndest to think of anything to say that would get her to keep talking, because he wasn’t done listening to her voice or hearing bits of her brain spill out. He wanted to know everything about her, from her mouth only, but he also didn’t want to get too ahead of himself.

“Only on Sundays.”

“Why Sundays?” He asked through a muffled laugh, curious as to what she was on about.

“Because then the nightmares are about showing up at work naked on Monday morning... and that’s not very interesting.”

He couldn’t help the widespread grin on his face, or the way his eyebrows furrowed at how fucking weird she actually was. And she wasn’t even that weird. She was kind of normal, but this entire time he thought she wasn’t like him at all, so seeing her say things like a normal person was... weird.

“So what kind of nightmares does watching Annabelle at...” Harry checked his watch, and went into momentary shock at the time, but also couldn’t care less because he wasn’t leaving now, “two in the morning get you?”

She smiled, and refusing to look at him, settled for planting her eyes on the television instead. “Walking into work naked on Monday morning but,” she held up a finger in anticipation and Harry smiled wider, “all my coworkers are creepy dolls.”

“Guess at that point it doesn't matter if you’re naked then.”

She thought about for a moment before giggling at what he said, “No, I guess it doesn’t.”

There was silence between them again, but it was different this time. It was peaceful. It wasn’t full of awkward tension and things Harry wished she would say. It felt like two friends hanging out and enjoying each other’s company.

“Are you sleeping here or...” She finally asked him and he wasn’t sure if that was her way of asking him to leave or not. But something about it made him feel like she was building her walls back up again.

“Oh, uh... if that’s okay. Think I’m too tired to drive.”

“Yeah, it’s fine. I just wanted to know because I can sleep in Violet’s room and you can have my bed like before. If you want.”

“Oh, um, are you sure?” Under any other circumstances, he would have said no, that the short, uncomfortable couch would be fine. That he would get over the pain in his legs and back in the morning because he didn’t want to invade her space, again. Unfortunately for him, he already had the knowledge of what her pillows smelled like and how soft her sheets were and he desperately wanted to invade her space again.

She nodded. “It’s no problem. I’ll go clean up a little. Just let yourself in.”

She was gone before he could get another word out. And while he listened to her footsteps as she walked away from him, he stared blankly up at the ceiling, resting his neck back on the chair. It felt like he’d just been through a fever dream, like none of it was real. Not only did he have a normal conversation with her, but now she was offering her bed to him again as well.

He needed a moment to process things.

When she got done tidying up her room and replacing her blanket with a clean one for Harry, he appeared cautiously in the doorway, yawning as he watched her gather some of her things to take to Violet’s room directly across the hall.

“I turned the TV off and the lights. Will’s still quite dead out there.”

She smiled to herself and gave him a very fleeting glance before picking the last item she needed up off her side table and then finally facing him. “It’s all yours.”

Ushering him in, he stepped into her room like he wasn’t actually allowed to. Like he had never been there before. Like he hadn’t nearly puked all over her poor white bed sheets that one night.

She replaced his spot in the doorway as he sat down on the edge of her bed. He stared at her back as she walked away, not getting his hopes up about her saying anything else to him. So, when she did turn to face him again, it just about knocked the air out of him.

“Oh and Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“Could you try to not drool on my pillows this time?”

He glanced at the top of her bed where all her pillows were neatly stacked and cringed at the horrible memories he had and at the fact that he’d actually drooled on her pillows. Like a fucking animal. Like a dog who couldn’t control himself.

“Sorry ‘bout that...” He looked at her again, genuinely apologetic and completely embarrassed by his past, drunken self.

“It’s okay.” She smiled reassuringly, “Night.”

“G’night.” Harry mumbled just before she left and closed the door behind her.

And in all the talk about drool, it wasn’t until he was cuddled under her blanket and up against her mound of pillows that he realized something. She’d said his name, out loud, to his face, where he could hear it and obsess over it and never get sick of it. He repeated it over and over in his head and kept himself awake just thinking about the way it had sounded and if he’d ever get to hear her say his name again.

The faint hum of voices right outside the door woke him slightly. His entire body was still asleep except for about half of his brain and one eye that peeked open to investigate the noise. He could tell it was early, though, his eyes stung and his body ached to go fully back to sleep.

He could make out Violet’s voice, which confused his foggy brain because he swore Will had mentioned she’d be gone all weekend, and yet here she was yelling in the hallway and interrupting his sleep.

“Please just sleep on the couch then, I need to be alone right now.” Harry furrowed his eyebrows at how distressed she sounded and flinched when the door across the hall just about slammed shut.

He heard an exasperated sigh and then squeezed his eyes shut when he saw movement under the door to Y/N’s bedroom just moments before it opened. He pretended to be asleep for as long as he could, listening to the footsteps as they carefully wandered into the room.

And then a hushed, but very exclamatory, “Ow!” got him to roll onto his back and knuckle his eyes open.

She looked at him apologetically while grasping the big toe of her right foot. “Sorry.”

“S’okay.” His voice was a lot groggier and a lot more raspy than she expected it to be. And she kind of hated herself for enjoying the view, a little too much, of Harry waking up in her bed. While she got her thoughts under control, he continued. “Did Violet just kick you out?”

She simply nodded and went back to digging into her cabinets for spare pillows.

“What time is it?” He asked.

“Four-thirty.”

Then he slowly pulled her blanket off, still dressed in his shirt and joggers from last night but without his socks and rings he’d removed before bed.

She immediately turned to him, however. “You don’t have to get up. I’m fine on the couch.” “No, I would feel bad.”

“It’s okay, really. Don’t worry about it.” She got him to stop what he was doing and lay back into the bed again while she opened up more cabinet doors to find her extra bed sets.

He cleared his throat after a little while of watching her, and gathered up the largest bundle of courage he ever had, to say what he was about to say next. With nervous, shaking fingers and a cold sweat on the back of his neck, he voiced the stupidest idea he’d ever had in his life.

“We can just both sleep here... if that’s fine.”

She froze and he knew he’d made a mistake. Why in the actual fuck did he just suggest that? Maybe he was sleep deprived. Maybe he was still reeling from last night. Maybe he had some false sense of security with her and completely forgot about the fact that last night had been the first time she’d said that many words to him. Of course she wasn’t about to climb in bed with him.

“Oh, um...” She finally found a couple pillows and pulled them from the cabinet while turning her attention back to Harry. She could not deny how desperately she wanted to crawl back into her own bed. And have a warm body next to her, which she had literally never had. No one had ever slept in her bed besides Harry, and definitely not with her. Sure, she’d slept in friends’ beds before on occasion, but this was different. It was her own bed and this was Harry, not her college friends.

So maybe it was the sleep-deprivation talking. 

“Okay.”

In all forms but physical, his jaw had just hit the floor. Never in a million years or in any other infinite alternate realities would he have thought they’d end up here, with Harry sliding over to one side of the bed to make room for her while she crawled in beside him. Her queen size gave lots of room in between them, so it wasn’t as weird as it sounded. It was just two, very tired loose-knit friends sharing a bed for a few hours.

“Goodnight, again.” Harry mumbled, realizing too late that it was technically morning now.

“Mhm,” was the only response he got out of her when she curled up under the blanket they shared and went straight back to sleep with her back to him.

And once his nerves settled, he did the same.

It was a lot easier than either of them thought possible. And for a long while, they stayed on their respective sides of the bed. But once she was lost in dreamland and he was already letting out soft snores, there was no control over what happened next. She turned and cuddled right up to his side as if her unconscious mind thought he was some kind of pillow to cradle. She wasn’t all to blame, though, as his arm wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her even closer. Closer than either of them had been to another living being in a long time. As close as her forearm spread across his chest and her head nestled into his neck. Close enough to smell his cologne but not realize why or stop any of it from happening. Not that she would have wanted to if she had any clue what she was doing. Not that he would have wanted to either.

With his hand digging into her waist, they both were mildly aware of what was going on, but both were also still too lost in their exhaustion. So, it just happened. And they held each other tighter as the minutes passed and the dreams took over once again. Because they both needed it. To hold and to be held. To feel the pressure of another person and the heartbeat on their skin. And all the loneliness in their bones melting away with each other’s touch as if they’d never been alone in the first place.

The only thing that could ever separate them was the knock on her door at nine a.m. Everything was a little fuzzy at first before she blinked a few times and realized that what she’d been using as a pillow wasn’t exactly stuffed with cotton and lined in silk. With a gasp, she pulled away from him abruptly. Ceasing all contact. Not because she wanted to necessarily, but because she would rather Harry not find out she was all over him like she had just been.

“Oh my god,” she whispered quietly in disbelief, mentally punching herself in the face for what she’d just woken up to.

But her embarrassment only skyrocketed when she dragged her eyes up his neck to his chin, then his nose and finally saw him staring right back at her with furrowed brows like he was just as confused as she was. When he glanced at the door is when she moved to do something about it.

Quickly, she pulled the covers off of herself and opened her door only the smallest amount possible. Just enough to peak her head out, but not enough for Will to see Harry in her bed. Where she’d just been sleeping right next to him. Or... right on top of him, as it seemed.

“Did Harry go home last night?”

With absolutely no plan to go along with her lie, she still figured it was the better option than to admit to Will she’d been in the same bed as Harry. That she’d been all fucking over him for who knows how long.

“Um, yeah. After you fell asleep.”

From behind her, Harry quietly smacked his hands over his face and fell back dramatically into her fluffy pillows.

“Oh, ok. Vi won’t come out of her room, but I’m going to go get breakfast from Jade’s. You want anything?”

“No, I’m alright, thanks.” Her words fused together in a flash, just trying to get the least amount of information out as quickly as possible so she didn't accidentally say something suspicious.

She shut the door on him with a smile before Will could even offer her a pastry from their most loved local cafe. Once that was dealt with, and she had a moment to gather her thoughts as she stared at her door, she slowly turned around to face Harry.

Her cheeks were probably bright red and full of embarrassment seeing him there amongst her sheets; as if once she had turned around he wouldn’t actually be there, like maybe she’d dreamt the whole thing.

But no.

He was there. And he was very real. And very much looking at her like they were both insane.

“I’m sorry,” they said it at the exact same time, cutting each other off from saying anything else.

“No, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have, um...” Harry started once he found an opportunity to speak again, but he didn’t exactly know what he was apologizing for. He wasn’t sorry for how they’d ended up. He had the best four and a half hours of sleep he’d ever had.

“I shouldn’t have been like... all on you like that.” She averted her eyes when she spoke, not able to look him straight on and admit it. And she knew she was only apologizing because she felt embarrassed and like she had to. She felt like she’d invaded Harry’s space and took advantage of him.

“You don’t have to apologize.”

She just shrugged. Nothing he said at this point could make her feel any less horrible about it. And even so, some part deep down inside of her, when she finally looked at him again, wanted to get right back into that spot with him for another few hours.

It just felt... right. And even though she couldn’t remember what she dreamed about, she knew it wasn’t her usual nightmare. She had felt safe and secure, and not so alone anymore, sleeping beside him like that and she felt stupid knowing it would never happen again.

“I should get going then. Before Will comes back and realizes I didn’t actually leave.” Harry let out an exasperated laugh as he began getting up, sitting himself on the edge of her bed with his back facing her as he stretched. The fabric of his shirt tugged along his muscles as he flexed them awake, and she grew far too overwhelmed thinking about the fact that those fucking arms of his had been around her for the better half of the morning. She could still feel him holding onto her and his grip at her side.

She needed a very cold shower and some fresh air.

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and Dating Brian Johnson

(Not my gif)(Requested by @bloodrosered )

(Up next is the Austin Powers headcanons I promise!)

- You meet Brian in detention. You’re one of Allison’s only friends and she managed to convince you to come and hang out with her. You’d never been to a weekend detention so you figured you’d give it a try, your best friend was there, how bad could it be?

- When you got there, Bender immediately started to flirt with you. Andrew was preoccupied with talking to Claire, and Brian... well Brian was staring at you.

- Bender takes notice of his staring and after he does he’s all sarcasm and asshole jokes from then on.

“Is she a part of the physics club too?”

“Wha? N-No, why?”

“We’ll you’re looking at her like she is.”

“I’m not looking at anyone.”

“Do you want to get in her pants Brian? Wanna feel her up? How about you sweets? Would you like Brian here to feel you up?”

- Allison tells him to shut up but she’s kind of amused. Brian feels like there’s steam coming out of his ears with how hot his face is. He’s so afraid that he’s blushing and making a fool of himself in front of you.

“Sure, why not? Sex is all ‘nerds’ think about isn’t it? Makes them good in the sack.” Allison joins you as you laugh.

“Well Brian... go on, make your move. She’s given you permission.” Bender smirks at him as the boy turns bright red.

- The two of you chat a bit during detention, learning more about each other and connecting on some things. By the end of the day you sort of feel something for the boy.

- When detention is over he nervously stops you outside and asks for your number. He’s shuffling awkwardly and his cheeks are pink, it’s really quite adorable. He melts at the sight of your smile.

- On the car ride home he’s staring at the numbers written on his arm and wondering if he’s dreaming or not. He can’t believe he went to detention and came out with a girl who actually thought he was cute.

- When he calls you the next day he almost expects the number to be fake. He still has to jump around his room, phone in hand, to round up the courage to call the number regardless of his suspicion. He gets yelled at for making so much noise from his jumping.

- You pick up just in time to hear him yelling an apology to his parents. You awkwardly asked who it was and he couldn’t help but smile when he heard your voice even though he was slightly embarrassed. You can’t deny that you had the same reaction when you heard his voice.

- He asked you out to the movies, a horror movie. He didn’t anticipate that it would be the worst movie that either of you had ever seen. The both of you were laughing at the excessive horribly fake looking gore and crappy acting.

- You were so bored that you just leaned over and kissed him. He’s shocked but kisses back although it’s sort of messy and awkward since he’d never kissed anyone before. He learns quickly though and it’s better than watching the movie.

- When you pull away you go back to watching the movie with a little smile. You’ll probably have to pull his arm around your shoulder since he’s too shy to do it himself.

- By the end of the night he kind of expects you not to want to see him again. He thinks he’s totally fucked up his chances but then you kiss him on your porch and tell him to meet you at the school doors in the morning. He can’t believe his luck, he’s smiling and jumping around all the way home.

- When you first start dating he tries to impress you a lot. You have to reassure him that you like him just the way he is.

- Allison thinks you two are cute and jokingly says you should thank her for finding you a boyfriend. She’ll still brag that’s shes the one who got the jock.

- Brian is a little too shy for Pda but he’ll hold your hand or wrap an arm around you occasionally. You’ll have to kiss him if you want one.

- He does calm down around you, you’re actually able to get him to goof off and be himself without being embarrassed.

- Study dates. He never minds helping you with your homework.

- When the two of you are cuddling he likes having you as close to him as possible.

- Dancing together.

- Every week you get together and watch movies, comedies are his favorite. He has a collection and he insists that you watch all of them with him at least once.

- He’s the pouty kind of jealous. He just mopes around and feels bad whenever he thinks you’re interested in someone or someone’s interested in you.

- Obviously he can be pretty insecure at times. He can’t believe you would go for a nerd like him in the first place and actually stick around after getting to know him.

- You guys probably smoked together at some point. God knows he needs a little something to help him relax.

- You help him loosen up and teach him that it isn’t the end of the world if he has a little fun. What his parents don’t know can’t hurt him, right?

- He compliments you a lot. He just wants you to know how great you are.

- Cute bashful smiles.

- You probably join some of the clubs he’s in to try and spend more time with him.

- Borrowing his jackets and sweaters. They’re all really soft and smell like him, he thinks it’s cute that you like to wear them.

- Double dates with Allison and Andrew.

- You occasionally talk with Carl the janitor because of him. The two of them are friends so by default you form a sort of friendship with the man as well.

- Sometimes he’ll quote old plays to you, he’s a fan of Molière.

- Hes not good with sarcasm. Be kind to him for he is a mere child, full of innocence and naivety.

- Going to rallies with him, he’s very passionate about the state of his country.

- Helping him get a proper fake ID...so he can vote.

- Pulling him in by his scarf for a kiss.

- He doesn’t like conflict and will actively try to stop you or his friends from arguing/fighting.

- He’s tried to cook you dinner and it’s either gone really well or really badly. He is confident in his spaghetti making skills, everything else is murky water.

- He’s usually pretty hesitant and anxious so he’ll ask you a lot of questions about what you’re doing or for your opinion on things.

- Standing up for him against bullies. You can practically we him melt whenever you do.

- The people in your school are kind of assholes and have definitely asked you why you’re dating him. Some even go as far as to say that you should date someone more popular or “in your league”. You tend to not tell Brian because you know it won’t do anything besides upset him.

- Although he has found out about it and surprised you with the question of whether you’d leave him for someone “better than him”.

- Sometimes you’ll just have to reassure him that you love him. Everybody needs a little reminder, especially when things get tough.

- Arguments hardly ever happen between the two of you. You rarely get mad at each other in general.

- You say ‘I love you’ first. He’s glad because he’d definitely be too nervous to say it before you.

- Allison threatens to beat his ass if he hurts you. He’s kind of afraid of her.

- Dates are going to movies, the arcade, and diners/fast food places; just fun things that you can do without blowing all your allowance/paycheck.

- Brian kind of has no backbone and is easy to manipulate. All you really have to do is compliment him and he’ll do whatever you ask. Be nice to him, he trusts you.

- You explain that he doesn’t need perfect grades to be considered a valuable human.

- Always knowing how to cheer him up and make him smile.

- You’re both just really supportive of each other.

- Unless you’re in the physics club or a straight A student His parents probably don’t like you because you distract him from his studies and seem like “a bad influence”.

- Depending on how confrontational you are, you’ve probably stood up to his parents before and they’ve banned him from seeing you. He’s afraid to defy his parents but they get rid of the ban after his grades drop and he’s miserable all the time.

- When he’s finally allowed to see you again he kisses you really hard and hugs you tightly. He almost seems scared to let go of you. His parents tolerate you after that but there’s still a bit of tension; it’s a love hate relationship.

- He can be pretty cheesy sometimes because half of his romance tactics are from movies and word of mouth by Andrew or Bender.

- At some point he’s asked Allison; she takes pity on him and genuinely tells him to just be himself because you love him for him. She surprisingly never tells you about this conversation.

- You find out from Brian later on and thank her. She just rolls her eyes and says the boy is hopelessly in love with you. You smile and say you feel the same about him while she pretends to gag.

- He loses his virginity to you at some point.

- He definitely wants to marry you in the future, get a good job, maybe have some kids and a cat or something. He just knows he wants you and whatever comes with loving you.

[galaxyofmyown]

can you do hotch with a reader with an age gap? maybe something to do with the song “dont stand so close to me” from the police

hello darling! here you go. i obviously aged the song up so she’s in higher education so as to not make her younger than 25 which is my usual rule of thumb. enjoyyyyyyyy! xo

aaron hotchner x reader - just a number

young teacher, the subject of schoolgirl fantasy

Aaron needs to stop letting himself get roped into this kind of thing. He’s much better suited for sitting behind a desk than standing in front of a classroom. But here he was anyway, at Virginia Commonwealth University, guest-lecturing for a Professional Ethics and Liability class. The professor was a friend of his from his prosecutor days and he owed her a favor. 

Despite Hotch’s general confidence surrounding his career, public speaking is not one of his favorite things. But he’s gotten good at faking it over the years, so his voice carries throughout the lecture hall confidently. There couldn’t be more than 30 people in the room considering the class was only open for people pursuing an M.S. in Criminal Justice. Perhaps this is why his eyes kept wandering back to you. Sitting third row left, dutifully taking notes.

At first, there didn’t seem to be anything special about you. Sure, you were beautiful, but all the girls in the lecture hall were objectively good looking. You weren’t even dressed to impress, lounging in your seat with leggings and a big sweatshirt on. But you had a wiser-than-your-years air about you, and you seemed extremely interested in the subject matter. Hotch couldn’t stop thinking about you, couldn’t tear his gaze away every time you wrapped your lips around the straw of your iced coffee. His interest in you nagged at him. You couldn’t possibly be older than 25. He’d never felt so attracted to someone so young before. Although not explicitly wrong, it did conflict with his personal morals.

she wants him so badly, knows what she wants to be

Yeah, you had a crush on Aaron Hotchner. Despite having only known of his existence for about an hour and 45 minutes, you were under his spell. He’s more charming and well-spoken than most of your professors, and they do this shit for a living. The way he carries himself, the way he moves his hands when gesturing to the screen. It was… hot. But it was more than that. He was smart and competent and his credentials were certainly impressive. And you weren’t the only one to notice. There were many people in your class that looked as interested in him as you felt.

“That’s all I have for you today. Does anybody have any questions?” Hotchner asks the PowerPoint goes black. A few people raise their hands, including yourself. You actually do have a question, but you’re filled with nerves as he looks at you.

“Yes, you in the third row. What’s your name?” He asks. You feel hot. 

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), sir.” God, he hates that you called him that. Or rather, he hates how much he loves it. You ask your question about how attorney allocations often lead to unjust decisions in court. Agent Hotchner smiles as you speak, causing one girl to turn to you and roll her eyes. Oops?

her friends are so jealous, you know how bad girls get  sometimes it's not so easy to be the teacher's pet

“That’s a great question, (Y/N).” Hotchner says (earning you eye roll #2) before spouting off an answer, which you scribbled down in your notebook. He answers a few more questions, and you notice that he didn’t ask anyone else for their name. But that doesn’t mean anything right? As your professor joins Agent Hotchner in the front to thank him for speaking, you realize that you’re never going to see this man again.

And frankly, that’s unacceptable.

You need to say something to him before he leaves, so you stay in your seat as the other students either leave or walk up to talk to Professor Ramirez or Hotchner. Many students are attempting to mask their blatant flirtation with a question, which, like, power to them, but you still felt the distant and unfamiliar sting of jealousy. You don’t miss the way the Agent keeps looking at you, however, which fuels your barely existent confidence. You walk up to Hotchner right after the last student leaves, and boldly stick your hand out. He shakes it and the warmth of his hand seems to move through your entire body.

“It’s (Y/N), correct?” He asks. You nod.

“That’s correct, Agent.” Hotchner smiles at you.

“Please, you can call me Hotch.” He says.

“Alright, Hotch. I just wanted to say that it’s great to meet you. An honor, really.” “It’s great to meet you too.” He says, and if you didn’t know better you would say his tone was FLIRTATIOUS, “Are you interested in working for the FBI?” He asks and you can’t help but laugh.

“God, no.” You say, which makes him raise an eyebrow.

“No?”

“Sorry, sir, no offense, but I really don’t trust the government enough to work for them.” You say, and try to contain your smile when he laughs.

“Fair enough. So what is it you want to be doing?”

“I’ll tell you, but you can’t laugh at me-”

“I would never laugh at you.” He interrupts, and you smile.

“Okay, then. I want to be a private investigator.” Hotch looks surprised, but he nods in approval.

“I can respect that. Although you’ll make plenty of enemies that way.”

“Hm. That’s okay with me. I have a lot of friends.”

“So you’ll strike a balance.”

“Exactly.”

You stand in front of him for a second, calculating your next move.

“Is there something you needed to ask me?” He asks, looking into your eyes. You almost chicken out, but then-

“Yes, actually. Um, this is a bit weird, and I’ve never done this before, but… would you maybe want to get dinner with me sometime?” You ask, forcing yourself not to break eye contact. Hotch’s face remains controlled, and you can’t gauge his reaction.

temptation, frustration, so bad it makes him cry

“I’m sorry, (Y/N). You’re lovely and seem like a great person, but I don’t think that would be appropriate.” He says, and you deflate (although you try not to show it). Trying not to cry from embarrassment, you smile at him and nod.

“I understand, Agent. Have a good night!” You say, staying as positive as possible. Hotch looks at you with pity, which is the last thing you need.

“I really am sorry, (Y/N).” He says.

“Don’t be. Have a good night.” You say, and you’re out the door before he can respond.

You walk to the exit and groan when you see that it’s pouring rain outside.

“Shit.” You say, digging around in your bag for your umbrella, but you can’t find it anywhere.

“Fuck.”

Usually, you’d walk to your apartment from school, but you can barely see the street in front of you with all the rain. You jog over to the bus stop and nearly collapse onto the seat, ignoring everyone around you. Today sucks.

wet bus stop, she's waiting, his car is warm and dry

Hotch pulled out of his reserved parking space carefully. He’s glad he thought to take an umbrella today. He turns up the heat in his car and breathes in the warm air. He can’t stop thinking about you. Was he an idiot for turning you down? It felt like the right thing to do, but now he just feels stupid. He groans as he pulls up at a stoplight. Driving through Richmond at night and in this weather was going to be a nightmare. He looks to his right and sees you, soaking wet and miserable. God. He’s pulling the car over before he can even weigh his options. There’s no way he was going to make you take the bus this late without any protection. He rolled down his window.

“(Y/N)!” He called, startling you. You look up, your expression a mix of hopefulness and embarrassment.

“Yeah?” You ask tentatively. Hotch falters for a moment, then says,

“I can drive you home.”

“Oh, no, it’s okay I’ll just-”

“I’m worried about you. Get in if you want. It’s really no problem.” 

You hesitate, and Hotch can practically hear your conflicting thoughts. But you get in the car nonetheless, and holy shit. He has heated seats.

“Thank you.” You say as you close the door. You immediately feel better, the warmth of the car soothing you, the leather seats making you feel less guilty for being soaked in this obviously expensive car.

“It’s no problem. Where should I go?”

You give him directions, his rumbling voice and soft demeanor making you feel so comfortable. The drive only takes 5 minutes, and suddenly you wish you lived farther away.

“It’s this one.” You say, and he parallel parks flawlessly. Hot.

“I’ll walk you up.” He says, reaching for his seatbelt. You put your hand over his before he can unclick it, and he looks up at you.

“Don’t please. I’ll be fine.” You rush out, not eager for him to see the inside of your shabby apartment building. He relents, but before you can pull your hand away he grabs it, softly stroking it with his thumb. It’s an awkward angle, but it makes your heart race nonetheless.

“Hotch?” You ask quietly, and he’s pulled out of his trance. He pulls his hand away and turns back to face the front.

“Sorry. Uh, good night.” He says, and you sigh.

“I’m 25, Hotch. I have a full-time job-”

“(Y/N)-”

“No. Let me say this, please. I have a full-time job and I’m taking night classes for my Master’s. I have my own insurance. I can vote, drink, rent a car. My brain is fully developed. You aren’t my boss. You aren’t my professor. You’re just a guy. I’m just a girl. It’s that simple. If you aren’t interested just say that and I’ll get out right now. But if this is about my age, or your age, then I think you’re making a mistake.” You say, your voice growing stronger with each word. Hotch looks at you, but his guard isn’t up this time. You know exactly what he’s thinking.

“Kiss me, Hotch.” You say. Hotch smiles.

“Call me Aaron.”

“Okay, how many times are you gonna change your name because-”

Aaron pulls you to him before you can finish your thought. His lips are softer than you expected, and he kisses like a guy with 20 years more experience than you. And it’s amazing.

“Wow.” You say as he pulls away. He presses his forehead against yours, and he’s full-on grinning now.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you to your door?” He asks, and you can’t help it: You giggle like a schoolgirl.

don't stand so close to me