#i had it half-drafted when i saw the tag LOL

[thefinalwitness]

five associations

emotions.

cowardly—a feeling that permeates her every action, even, especially her bravest moments

hopeful—unable to forsake others or give up on the cause, believing with all she has

motivated—struggling through impossible odds

belonging—to find a home in herself

grieving—the final witness

colors.

wine red—the color she awoke covered in in place of memories

pure white—to be called upon by an echo

metallic brass—goldlike but battle-worn

jet black—a shady place to rest

pumpkin orange—with the sun on her face

scents.

flowers—a smell both natural to her and amplified by care products

sun-baked—she is an eternal summer child

old books—a testament to her hunger for knowledge

sweat—it follows her like a shadow, neither good nor bad

bread—the snack of champions, or academic workaholics

objects.

rapier—proof that she is her own, and that she can achieve that which she strives for

crystal—bearing the symbol of the sun, it reminds her to rise after every fall

staff—the focus of a dear mentor and friend, memory made manifest

needle—to patch her own clothes is as to heal her own heart

ring—love inlaid in metal, warmed by the skin she wears it against

body language.

polite—soft in words and eyes

unassuming—a demeanor that pacifies even the most hostile... usually

strong—there is a weight to her, fortified

attentive—she listens even to the cruelest minds, for hope they will hear themselves

closed off—despite it all, she holds them at arm's length, too far to see into her heart

aesthetics.

summer—clear skies, endless daylight, and the freedom to pursue whatever she likes

flower fields—she is not alone; rather a piece of something beautiful and vast

libraries—there is more than she can ever know. still, she reads every book

battle-mage—magic and armor, swords and fireworks, a balance of body and mind

sunlight—her inspiration rises in the east, and shimmers in the dark

tagged by @cindernet-explorer!!! thank u so much i've been wanting to try this! :')

[ay0nha]

Buggy searching out reader after a fight and showing up to her doorstep like a puppy looking for help

feel free to make it angsty or fluffy (or smutty lol)...reader could be an ex-marine and hates pirates so it's not clear whether or not they like each other (spoiler they do)

PAIRING: OPLA!Buggy x f!reader

WORD COUNT: 2.3K

WARNINGS: ANGST, canon-typical things, cursing, smoking, descriptions of injuries/fucked up shit Buggy did, mutual pining, brief mention of reader being a former marine, vague description of smuggler!reader, soft touches, enemies ish to lovers, etc.

A/N: This was fun lol. It's a little weird and experimental (?) for me? So, she got a little messy as I was getting excited to just Get This Out, so it didn't sit in my drafts. I want more buggy angst lol. Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in any OPLA things or along the lines. Enjoy.

!!!COMMENTS ENCOURAGED!!!

(tags: @gingernut1314)

There were reasons habits quickly morphed into vices, something immoral and wicked. Yet, you were lethal, the definition of torment. Your silhouette alone was enough to send Buggy spiraling. 

Each step toward you felt unreliable and fuzzy, making Buggy question if he reattached his limbs correctly. His gut felt twisted with a foreign feeling that he wanted to trap away. He wondered if he buried the feeling deep enough if it would turn to treasure or become forgotten rot. 

“Buggy.” Your voice even irritated him. Yet, he found relief in finding you alone. “Third time this month. Careful…I’m starting to get a big head.”

“That sounds like a medical problem…” He mumbled with little enthusiasm and a half-hearted smirk, “...should probably get seen for that.”

“Admitting you care, eh?” You teased. You were preoccupied, cigarette dangling from your lip and bobbing with every word. “What can I help you with?”

The receipts tended to be formidable, but you couldn't help but feel your concentration falter when you were met with uncharacteristic silence.  Typically, you were shy of whiplash from an unwarranted insult or backhanded compliment. However, once your eyes landed on Buggy, you only saw deep anger veiling desperation. 

 “How serious is it?” Your pen was settled beside the book, whatever records you were once concerned with dismissed.  Buggy looked awful—his posture gave away his exhaustion and discomfort.

“What? Can’t we skip the part where I say ‘the other guy looks worse’?” His busted lip ticked with dry humor. There were rumors he was in trouble, but that paled compared to the truth you knew about Buggy. 

“Depends.” You frowned. “That other guy isn’t stopping by, is he?” If it were true, you’d have to lay low, something you never had time for. “This is why I don’t like your kind.”

“My kind?” Buggy continued unamused. You weren’t more than a wolf in sheep’s clothing to him. You were a smuggler. Plain and simple. It was impossible for something to stay hidden from you for long.  “You’re not far off, sweetheart.”

His terms of endearment never held affection, but he seemed to soften this time for some reason—almost pleading between the lines. You held a trained expression, taking a moment of consideration. 

Your typical jobs with him were small. Typically, they consisted of information that he could coax out of you for trinkets. He brought the world to you. Other times, you moved things through the shadows to an even darker location. 

This was different, you decided. 

Stalking toward the clown, you saw how the pain mapped on his body.  “You look awful.” 

The jester’s bow was fueled by pained sarcasm. Although his abilities helped, Buggy's flesh was still pliable. His jaw was a deep-set purple, contrasting the faded red of his cracked lips. It was hard to distinguish what was paint and what was blood. His eyes were bloodshot with broken blood vessels, and there were gashes littering every place imaginable. 

You were surprised he was still standing. You noted how his breath became labored, as if holding onto what he could before he collapsed entirely. But looking between his eyes, you saw the struggle he had deciding what was worth his final breath: business or pleasure. 

—

At the atrium of the town, your home went unnoticed. The average eye missed it, but those who could look past the unassuming home knew what lay behind the walls. You were particular with your arrangements, always done tightly and if challenged dangerously. 

Buggy learned the hard way of earning your loose alliance. The scar you left behind cinched on his side, and sometimes, if he found you lingering in his mind, he swore he felt it ache. Yet, just being in your presence seemed to be the closest thing to a remedy. 

“You can’t just show up like this.” Your scolding was shallow, there only as a buffer. You distanced yourself from the pirate despite the intimacy you provided. 

The handful of candles in the room glowed yellow, highlighting the dark corners that threatened to swallow everything whole. Your fingers trailed various cabinets, pulling out necessities: make-shift gauze, old booze, and something loosely resembling thread. 

“Then, don’t leave a key under your mat.”  Buggy hadn’t bothered with the front door, stumbling through a window once locked. The so-called key was that he knew how to dance around your traps, dragging in an air of death.  

“Hilarious.”

“Gimme a minute...” He raised his uncovered hand.“... I’ll come up with something better.”

The irony hadn’t set in yet, but whoever had hurt him made it personal. Buggy’s middle fingers were gone, not detached, but entirely ripped off.  

“Oh—” You bubbled with laughter lightly, “—that must’ve hurt.”

“Well, aren’t you a twisted one?” Buggy’s tone was flat, but his eyes tracked you. He silently begged you to put him out of his misery. 

“What’s twisted is you, Buggy.” The decision had already been made to help him, but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t draw it out.  “You come here asking for my mercy and expect it for free…” 

Buggy’s throat went dry, his tongue barely able to wet his own lips without tasting blood. He leaned through your threshold, head hung, leaving a trail of blood with every uncomfortable shift. His breath was heavy, wheezing with effort to remain upright.  

There was no use in prayers. The gore set the air with dust that could never settle; a blood-warm heat had set into your marrow, never to be forgotten; Buggy had been dragged to your doorstep like a cat bringing in fowl. 

Buggy spoke low as if the neighbors would hear. He hadn’t even wanted to hear himself, knowing his desperation.  “...can’t you play favorites for once?”

“That’s a trick question.” Your facade had slipped. Your response was a second too quick, letting warmth trickle throughout his chest.

Buggy’s ears rang at the admission. Your words filled the room and stuck like honey.

You were always thinking. You were intentional; everything was thought out, and if it wasn’t, you were still level-headed. It wasn’t hard to recognize his behavior patterns; he knew what he was doing. Finally, though, everything became a second thought as you reached him with intent, tilting his chin to expose his neck.

“Easy, puppet.” Buggy caught your wrist. The tight hold was a warning moments away from a fracture. “Pity isn’t your color.”

Buggy fed off cruelty that incited fear. It was foolish to think he could do the same to you. 

“How naive of you to think this is what pity looks like.” Your voice was soft and steady, pent-up venom behind every word. “Before me is a shell of a man playing pirate—” 

You paused to regain your wrist. Regret flashed over Buggy’s features, but he held onto every one of your words. His humor was his defense, and beyond that, he was pliable in your hands. There was little room for recovery. 

“—don’t fault me for something you let get out of hand.” You finished. 

Fear clawed its way up Buggy’s throat, determined to make itself known. It fought with another emotion he was too proud to name. He wasn't unfamiliar with loss. But this.  The feeling was wild. Sentimental.

The small candles’ fire illuminated the room only so much, hiding the loneliness of the small space. Very little signs of life filled the room, but your supplies dominated the counters. It was a tick you picked up from the Marines that you couldn’t shake. On nights when sleep was hard to find, you would organize and filter through everything in preparation for nothing. 

It seemed wrong to encourage the relief you felt, finally putting what you had to use. But its familiarity was oddly cathartic. So, with clean hands, you began. 

“Lean forward—” You instructed. The chill in your tone softened as Buggy struggled. “—move slowly. Slowly.”

You’d already discarded his hat; scorched by the battle, it had lost most of its form. You moved slowly, calculated with every experimental touch. The years of back and forth and treachery never lead you to believe Buggy would be sitting at your mercy. 

He grunted as you removed his jacket. It was tattered and drenched with rainwater. The leather of the chair protested against being ruined. Each layer removed revealed every minute it took for him to arrive. 

“Were you shot? Show me where it hurts. ” You prompted bluntly. The training was still ingrained; your mind filtered through a clinical set of diagnostic questions, your hands moved with practice, and you were returned. “Dizzy? Light-headed? Anything like that?”

His skin pricked. Your touch tickled him, but he leaned into it fully. Buggy was used to touch hurting or leading to something that hurt. He put far too much faith in you, unlike the others. He humanized you. It would be a mistake if you did the same.

“No, no,” Buggy shook his head, the action unsteady. “My ribs—” He coughed with discomfort when you pressed against his side. “Fuck—”

Your hands were steady as you worked. The gauze was taut in the right places, and Buggy’s body finally relaxed. He received a good beating, but nothing bed rest would fix. While you tided, you rambled on about the possibility of a fever, infections, and whatever else came out of your mouth to ignore the feeling of his severe gaze. 

“You’ve changed,” Buggy muttered sharply. He took in your entirety. You held yourself well; you’d matured into your confidence unrestrained. Without him, you soared.  

“And you’ve fallen.” Your mouth fidgeted with a frown. Your head remained leveled with his, bandages secured at his temples. 

Buggy’s bloodshot eyes darted between your own. He wanted to tell you that you were the brevity of his curse, his burden. His mind was always riddled with reflections, constantly ruminating about possibilities that could bring so-called success. You quieted it and saw him for what he was good and evil. He gave all of himself to you. 

“Oh yeah?” He encouraged. 

You only noticed now the position you were standing in, not entirely between his legs, but knees brushing with every motion. Intentional or not, Buggy took advantage, bruised knuckles, finding a place just shy of your pant’s fabric. 

“I got you something.” He whispered. Buggy knew you well enough that the seed that only he could nourish had been planted. It was only moments before you’d cave. “Check my pocket; the left one.”

A strange feeling surfaced, pulling away, but you were enticed. Buggy learned your tastes, knowing you placed value on rarities. There was no rhyme or reason behind it, possibly besides the fact that each trinket was tangible evidence that you were on his mind. Therefore, there was no stop to the allure. You explored his discarded jacket, eagerness fueling your search. 

“Jesus, Buggy!” You cursed from the texture alone. Buggy fulfilled his titles, always sporadic with his behavior and anger. The blood was warm and fresh, staining your palm as if making sure it was now shared blood on your hands. 

You flung the nose to the floor, cartilage still firm and skin still stringy with the residue of its owner. The image alone told you everything. The scene was explicit—nothing could be saved from Buggy’s carnage. 

“Oops.” He wheezed an ill-timed laugh. To be seated in the depths of your home, he still sought  out an advantage. “Must be the other pocket.”

“It’s too late for your pranks.” You spat. Your kindness felt thrown back in your face. The faint embarrassment morphed into anger. “Don't you get this is exactly why I—

“I forgot, you don’t like my kind.” Buggy chose malice as his only form of self-preservation. The statement mocked you and your previous life sewing up Marines that Buggy most likely sent you. “How selfish to think everything is about you.” 

Buggy detached his bandaged hand with the little energy he had left, going to the correct pocket. He let his defensiveness stew, already committing to the rash gift he’d brought for you. It was heavy on its return to you. 

Reaching out, your heart dropped to your stomach. The glass was pristine, and the snowglobe’s inner frost moved your heartbeat to your ears. You refused to shake it, nervous your uneasy hands would break something so inherently precious. 

Holding it tightly to your chest, your eyes were blown wide, pouring into Buggy’s. It was clear to you now the state he was in was of a transactional purpose. He offered himself for the trivial object. It spoke of the confusion of feelings that drowned Buggy. Pain became inherent to his life, functioning as a scale of value. 

The greater the risk, the greater the reward. 

“Do you like it?” Buggy’s voice surpassed the thumping in your ears. 

When you were young, you threw things out of your bedroom window to learn how they would break. Many of them did not—the plastic dolls and plush toys landed safely on the grassy yard below—but the wooden toys did break, or at least they came apart.

One day, you found a snow globe. A winter village stood inside, with snow-covered roofs and chimneys shooting up into the domed sky.

This snow globe was the last thing you threw out of your window, not because your mother scolded you, which she did, but because this snow globe smashed so gloriously—an explosion of crystal, water, snow, and glitter, the village utterly destroyed —you thought you wouldn’t be able to replicate such destruction again.

It was bullshit then, and it was bullshit now. Moving and letting go was never in the stars for you. Or the tea leaves. Or in the deep lines of your palm. You were destined for destruction. 

You’d told Buggy this once. Your state of inebriation fostered the interaction, the memory far more fuzzy for you than for him. It was told nonlinearly, but he followed it well as if he were then to witness it himself. He understood its value to you even if he couldn’t fully understand it.  It wasn’t odd or facetious. It was your greatest regret that he became determined to restore.  

“Yes.”

[yae-energy]

“you like my hair?” pt2: 2 fast 2 furious

synopsis: what i think their favorite hairstyles would be

cast: megumi fushiguro, yuji itadori, nobara kugisaki

cw: nword usage

a/n: LMAOO,,, anyways here’s pt2 cause i had fun making the first part. def had to redo some of these cause tumblr aint save my draft 🖕🏽. there most def will be a pt3

—

megumi - bantu knots

- loves them (and for obvious reasons these shits cute asf)

- lwk doesn’t comprehend how your hair even stays like that without unraveling or smth so whenever you’re doing your hair he just watches you like:

👁️ 👁️

- like damn my nigga back up 😭

- mf will literally be taking notes so he can learn how to do your hair, that way you don’t gotta “abandon him” so someone else can do your hair

- be watching them yt tutorials while he tries to practice on an olddddd doll gojo got tsumiki

- whenever he goes over to your house he tries to be all sneaky and goes through all your products so he can see what you use the most and stock up on it at his house

- gets shy when he asks gojo to take him to your favorite hair store cause that mf can’t keep his mouth closed to save his life

- genuinely thinks you look so mesmerizing, esppp with your edges done

- it’s so classy to him 🤷🏽‍♀️

- i also think he’d really loveeeee finger waves

- bro will start barking and acting a fool

- reminds him of a mermaid

—

yuji - natural locs

- don’t get him started (me too dawg 😔)

- he don’t even know where to start

- loves how soft they look

- loves loves lovessss when you add little accessories like beads and stuff

- helps you retwist your hair

- cause what nigga finna be touchin all his his lady head???? he’s not a fan of that

- his favorite loc style is the half up half down two ponytails (iykyk 🤷🏽‍♀️)

- lovesssss when you 2 strand twist them

- also loves the curly look

- if you threaten to comb them out bro will start HOLLERING

- like ofc you can do wtv with your hair but he just loves your locs

- smells the loc gel

—

nobara - wash n’ go’s

- it’s efficient and she’s all about efficiency

- even if the actual wash day itself takes hours 😭

- thats ok tho!

- she’s absolutely in love with your curls like omgggg

- loves when you do puffs cause she thinks they’re just so simple and cute

- like you can never go wrong with a puff

- also doesn’t mind slick backs but knows all that gel prob isn’t good for your hair and it makes her worried LOL

- ESP LOVES TWIST/BRAID OUTS

- the curl definition just be so immaculate

- after you finish your hair she takes a bunch of pictures to post

- takes you out as a treat cause wash days be so tiring

- cleans up all your stuff when you’re done cause you alr did so much work, she knows them arms are tired 😔

- lwk is surprised you aren’t a damn body builder by now

- asks if she can help detangle your hair

- makes sure to be real gentle incase you’re tender headed

- is always showing you a style she saw somewhere and asks if you can try it out on your hair

—

tags: @megurulvr @honeybleed @jujuyii @chinieh @jogeto @mypimpademia @miirene | tag form

[loftec]

✨ weekly tag wednesday ✨

Thank you for tagging me @deedala and @mmmichyyy! <3

name: loftec

age: 38 today!

your time zone: CET

what do you do for work? I work with graphic design and promotion in music

do you have any pets? Yes! The best boy.

what first drew you to this fandom? Because I'd watched the end of season five and read all the fic and needed to surround myself with people who were as heartbroken and angry as I was lol, and they were here!

are you a morning person or a night owl? I have an easier time keeping awake than waking up, so I've always just been a night owl, but the last few years I've been working on getting up early because it makes my whole life better tbh, less fun sometimes! But more fun in the long run.

what are your hobbies? oh boy, writing, crying, crafting - so many projects you guys.

how tall are you? 183 cm

if you could live anywhere in the world, where would you live?

Just to the left of this there's a sharp gorge into the cliffside where, on a train heading for England, I saw three houses tucked in like something plucked out of my dreams. More realistically I want to live where I live now but closer to the ocean (actually probably less realistic it's so expensive).

favorite color? Vermilion

favorite book? Good Omens

favorite movie? The Matrix, Pride, Släpp fångarna loss det är vår, The Little Mermaid, Spirited Away, I really want to go on but will stop now.

favorite fic? So many and this is now the third time I’m editing this draft from Wednesday, trying to be quick about it because I’m on a train and I feel very ill if I look too much at a screen, but lately I’ve been thinking a lot about the other side of here by mayyouwalk

favorite musical artist: Frazey Ford, Nina Simone, Bob Dylan, Kaizers Orchestra, Nick Cave, I really want to go on but will stop now.

what is your average screen time so far this week? 1 h 48 min

what's the first app you open in the morning? The music app, I have my morning soundtrack/schedule playlists there.

how long have you been on tumblr? I've had this account for 12 years, but I've been here actively for 9 years.

finally (and i know this one is hard) tell me a fun fact about yourself:

Most of my immediate family all need and wear glasses, not contacts, so when I see a friend who I know to wear glasses not wear them I feel a bit like… they forgot to put their eyes on? I don’t know them? Half of their face is missing? Is this a fun fact?

Tagging anyone who wants to answer some Qs this fine Star Wars Saturday ✨

[deepbutdazzlingdarkness]

I think @kennyomegasweave tagged me in this OTP meme like...months ago? And I just found it half-finished in my drafts and decided to actually get it done.

1. What ship were you completely obsessed with when you were a teenager, but now you don't care anymore? 20s, not my teens, but I used to be utterly obsessed with Jack/Kent from Check Please and now, IDEK what happened. I still love them, but I have old fic I saved and never read and can't bring myself to care anymore. IDK it makes me sad.

2. Which ship would you consider your first one? Hmm probably Betsy/Joe from the Betsy Tacy series or Anne/Gilbert from Anne of Green Gables? My first ships when I actually got into fandom were Sawyer/Kate and Sara/Grissom from CSI.

3. Your first fanfic belonged to which couple? Magnus/Alec!!! I never thought I would write fic and then I watched season 1 of Shadowhunters and banged out (lol) 7 fics and almost 30k of porn in less than 2 months in 2016. They all have an insane number of hits (like. the highest has 54,878 hits and the lowest has 15,836 hits.........) and I still get kudos on them almost every day, it's wild.

4. Do you remember the first couple you saw a fanart over? Genuinely no idea, but the first one in my fan art tag is Katniss/Peeta from 2012 <3

5. Did you ever get into ship discourse? My first instinct whenever I see someone talk about something I don't like is to mute/block, so perhaps not actively, but I'm sure I have at some point.

6. Did you used to have any no-otp or have it currently? LOL. Yes. I still fucking HATE Jack/Kate from Lost and always will. Also Dan/Blair from Gossip Girl. Lately...I'm such a multi-shipper but I gotta say Kate/Anthony from Bridgerton bc I've genuinely had to restrain myself from bitching about how much I hate them SO many times since s3 came out lol.

7. Who were the couple in the last fanfic you read? I finished a rewatch of Beyond Evil last night so I've been rereading some of my old bookmarks bc I've read almost everything that's out there 😔. Shout out to the masterpiece simple & clean by whir.

8. Currently, do you have any OTPs? So many!!! Taemin/Kai is still my #1, but also Juwon/Dongsik from Beyond Evil, PatPran from Bad Buddy (it took me several episodes to actually get into the show but once I did I cried...so much over them and how much they love each other LOL), KunTen from WayV, Louis/Lestat...I feel kinda bad that I don't have a major current f/f OTP but I'm literally checking my kpop tags multiple times a week for rule 63 fic and most of my current WIPs are rule 63 f/f so there's that. (Two KunTen including what hopefully is gonna be a long one, plus a Jigyu I started yesterday for a fest that I'm hoping I'll be able to get done - not because of the length, but because I've never written Seventeen before)

9. Is there any couple that, to this day, you are extremely mad about not getting together? So many??? I feel like I have to say Dean/Cas.......Lee/Kara never really got together so them for sure. Sawyer/Kate from Lost even though I 100% choose to believe they got together post-canon pre-flash-sideways. Oh my god I'm looking through my "forever bitter" tag and it's a lot of Cooper/Audrey from Twin Peaks as I expected, but I forgot about Mini/Franky from Skins. and ABSOLUTELY THEM. Everything about series 5 was terrible but that especially.

10. Is there any ship you used to dislike but now you think they are kind of interesting? IDK I feel like I don't usually change my mind like that. I wouldn't go as far as saying "kind of interesting" but I guess I don't hate Bree/Roger from Outlander AS much on the show as I did in the books lol.

11. Do you have any ship that, in the past, was considered normal but now you would be cancelled over? Hmm...Cesare/Lucrezia maybe? If not them almost definitely Norma/Dylan from Bates Motel LOL.

12. What was your favorite crack ship? I was gonna say I couldn't remember any that truly fit this definition, but then I remembered the Kent Parson/Claude Giroux series #dirtbags and that was great. Actually no my real answer is Syd/Richie from The Bear. Now *I* don't think it's a crackship but they have that vibe.

13. Who is the couple you read more fanfics of? Here's a side by side view of my most bookmarked ships vs the tags I have saved rn on my front page. Unfortunately you can only have 20 but I think it's a pretty good representation. (Other than the ENHA ship, where I legit don't know anything about them or frankly even what they look like, but that tag produces so much incredible unhinged porn that I read canon-blind.)

14. What most of your ships usually have in common? I feel like I have several different ~types, but: friends to lovers, I LOVE bicker-y couples, age gap relationships, especially when one of them is a mentor-ish figure, and power dynamics in general.

15. What do you absolutely hate in a ship? Nice Guy characters, whether they're a guy or a girl. The OG example is Xander (duh) and Chloe from Smallville but you also see it with characters like Sol on My Stand In...there's def more things I hate but that's one of most major ones for me.

[spicysix]

WIP Wednesday Snippet

a lot of you asked for your sweater, so i thought i'd make this easier and just paste the whole thing i was able to draft here, and tag everyone who requested!

it doesn't have like huge spoilers because nothing exactly huge happened, but it does mention what happens at the end of chapter 2, plus this one OC, so i recommend you read the previous chapters before diving into the snippet after the cut ♡ you can find the series masterlist here. also, the snippet is not proofread lol

thank you for requesting! @bifuriouswaterbender @eriquin @starryeyedjanai @stobinesque @inairbinad @roykentt

Steve loses his virginity at a party, second week after the new year’s beginning.

Well, a lot of things lead to that.

After the night he spent with Jonathan, all Steve wanted was to stay with him even more. The whole week he counted the days, hours, minutes until next Friday when they’d get to meet again. They’d see each other on the hallways at school and smile and there was so much in Jonathan’s eyes that Steve felt like the heat of it could keep him warm throughout the whole winter. More often than not he’d have to look down or find excuses to not make Tommy or Bryan suspicious, still trying to steer them away from Jonathan.

Bryan. That was another thing.

Something happened someday between Bryan and another guy after a basketball practice, a week after the last time Steve saw Jonathan. Bryan and the other guy were the only ones there, until coach caught them and brought them to the principal. They were both invited to leave school, which was something Steve never thought he’d see happening, and since they were the only ones there, no one else knew what they did. Bryan’s family actually moved away, and the other guy was sent to a boarding school.

It was the talk of Hawkins High for the last month of the year. Everyone gossiped and theorized on what could’ve been that bad. But no one knew the actual truth.

Tommy, missing the other half of his brain, got grumpy. He wasn’t as physical anymore, not without someone else to help him with the beating, but he’d pick on more people, for reasons more stupid every day. And without his former partner in crime, he started dragging Steve everywhere. And, worst, following Steve everywhere.

Steve couldn’t see Jonathan. Not without the risk of Tommy trying something.

Now, Steve thought things would get better after Bryan left, but they didn’t. And at a party right before Christmas break, Tommy allegedly found the love of his life and if he was insufferable before that, he was actually even worse after. He dragged Steve all across town looking for Carol Perkins, and he wouldn’t rest before he found her.

Christmas came, Steve spent the holiday with his family and the minute it was over, Tommy was all over him again, to another random teenager’s party.

Steve couldn’t see Jonathan. Again. He had already planned the night, separated what he wanted to gift him, bought an extra can of hairspray.

But Tommy was relentless. The weeks followed, and he dragged Steve from the movies to the stores, to parties, to the mall two towns over — everywhere, looking for the girl he was obsessed with. It was the coldest winter Steve had ever gone through in his short life, and he was forcefully glued to Tommy like a teen babysitter. The one person he wanted to see so close and so far. Just a tiny spread of forest and the entire social pyramid separating them.

Two weeks after New Years, at yet another party, Tommy finds Carol Perkins.

She isn’t alone.

And Steve isn’t a virgin anymore.

[starscelly]

which of the flying stars have your ‘favorite’ backstory? (i realize that that’s kind of a difficult question but hey? maybe it isn’t?) or, alternatively, which one do you want to tell us about the most?

i’m so interested in this au i don’t know what questions to ask so if you don’t like these ones feel free to use this ask as an opportunity to go off about something you’ve got on your mind!

i saw this ask during work and could not Wait to get home to answer this omg tysm for ur interest and question and providing me a space to dump a lil abt the flying stars boys!! <3<3<3

i think robo has my favorite backstory bc its so silly and lighthearted dfjksdf to give a quickish summary of everyone's backstory rq (a chunk of it based off their real lives but messing with the timeline and obviously outcomes and some details etc):

they all grew up playing hockey, roope and miro took it more seriously/were able to go farther with it but none of them quite made it to the draft. jake and robo are on a beer league team when they have the time!

roope and miro were on the same liiga team, bonded over music taste and going to shows and playing music together, but roope went to play juniors in the us and eventually became more involved in the punk scene there and started to prioritize it over hockey (especially since it was a space where he could be openly queer and loud, as opposed to hockey where being either is Largely Unacceptable), eventually quitting. the whole time he was still in contact with miro fs and they were still super close.

miro was feeling a lot of pressure from being seen as a "wunderkind" and ended up using music a lot to cope with that, realized he had more fun just fucking around with friends playing music than he did hockey anymore, and when roope said he was starting a band with two freaks in texas and miro could live with him Rent Free miro was like "^.^ okay" and dropped off the face of hockey earth to go to them

otter grew up in love with punk (esp pop punk) and obvs went to warped tour and everything as much as possible, he was also Always very painfully emotionally open and sincere in a way that made him never want to pursue hockey seriously lol like he got hints of dudes who would pursue it, being on a minnesota hs team, and he was like.... yeah not 4 me. he loved being a goalie but didn't love the locker room environment and ultimately just loved playing the drums and writing more!

robo is like if he still grew up in cali but instead of his dad being an ex-goalie he was actively a drummer and instead of using the rv to go to hockey games and moving to michigan and everything they used an rv to tote around their FAMILY BAND (half inspired by zoe's tags on the original post thank u ily) to little gigs, mostly . robo still played hockey a ton in his free time as a hobby but it was harder/unimportant to pursue it seriously given where he was along with obviously just having this love for music growing up in his family. his big teenage rebellion moment was when he was like "no DAD i dont want to play generic universally appealing rock music anymore, i want to play stupid loud messy punk!!!" except nobody actually cared in a serious way they were like "okay lol as long as ur still having fun playing music if thats rlly what you want to do!!!". he was raised to play guitar based purely on vibes by his mom which is why he cannot actually read music still lol

i can elaborate further on any of them if there's anymore questions or u just want to hear more abt them, and im always more than happy to answer Any questions abt the au!!!!! tysm!! <3<3

[koqabear]

hiii, i always love reading ur work!! recently re-read ur scream fic and its so good i always wish it was longer;; ur horror themed fics are amazing! i think my top two from ur works are Only You, Darling (yandere beomjun) and Wanna Play a Game? -- seriously the yandere beomjun is so so good if anyone has read that u should def check it out, i had chills reading and it lowk freaked me out a bit lol had me turning over my should extra after i read it (i mean this in a good way! that's how u know its good!!)

i NEEDED to let u know bc i honestly really enjoy horror and there's not many fics on that topic and u write it so well ><

AWWWW UR SO SWEET OMG 🫶🫶🫶

I actually went back to check WPAG’s word count and was surprised when I saw it was 13k! I honestly also thought it was longer, it definitely felt like it when I was writing it…

I think horror is definitely in my top favorite genres to write, it’s just soooo fun for me honestly; the only downside is that they always get hit with community labels immediately ;;;; (with OYD, it just disappeared from tags for a while— but wpag genuinely frustrated me bc it was doing so well and I was getting so many interactions, only for it to immediately get cut to less than half of what it was sigh…)

of course that’s not gonna stop me from doing more though, and I actually have one more in my drafts! Maybe if I ever get the inspiration, I’ll be able to come back to it…

[that-was-anticlimactic]

X, Y, & Z!

lol hey just remembered that i had these from dec 19th lol i think i was just so mentally unwell at the time that i couldn't actually process the fact that i had asks and was capable of answering them even tho i literally reblogged the ask game lol anyways was going through my drafts and saw this and i'm MUCH better now so i went through and found the game and imma do it now <3

x - a trope which you are almost certain to love in any fandom.

hahhaahhaha character with an inferiority complex learning/being told that they're enough on their own/when those characters get in character content made of them ijuhygtfguiouygf because a lot of times they get misinterpreted or ignored </3 also. hanahaki <3

y - what are your secondhand fandoms (i.e., fandoms you aren’t in personally but are tangentially familiar with because your friends/people on your dash are in them)?

OH! my number one secondhand fandom is wwdts thanks to @chasvchalilah <3 i have my Guy (colin robinson) and i feel like i basically know the whole plot thanks to shira and her incredible patience for all my questions and her kindness in telling me like. literally everything lol actually this reminds me i think the colin post shira tagged me in is in my drafts and that i actually forgot to reblog it. hm. gonna go find it after i post this lol also csm because grace watched it and i know it's not really a show that i'd like so i'm living it vicariously through them and moth and the other csm moots <3

z - just ramble about something fan-related, go go go! (Prompts optional but encouraged.)

ah this is dangerous omg okay oh gosh okay what do i choose okay so this is a very random thing to rant about, but it's fan-related so. but i lowkey hate in chatfics how writers always give characters different contact names. more often than not, i look at them and say "they would never choose that name" / "they would never name that person that" / "they would throw a fit if their name got changed to that" and like. it's just so irritating. i honestly think most blorbos would just call each other by their names in their contacts like. and if you're going to give them "silly" names (bc most times they just... aren't even funny to me personally), they don't even specify who is who! most of the time, i see them say something MAYBE at either the beginning or end of the first chapter and then usually never again even if the characters start changing each other's names! so it's just hard to keep up. i actually love chatfics and think they're such a cool idea and a great creative writing exercise, but they HAVE to be done right because they can go poorly/ooc SO quickly. not all characters use correct grammar, but some do. some will use capitalization and punctuation while others don't. some characters will use emojis or send memes and recite memes, OTHERS WON'T and you NEED to be able to figure this stuff out. also it is SO unrealistic for all the characters to constantly trauma dump because half these characters refuse to "show weakness" or don't know How to talk to people about what's wrong. oH AND ALSO not all characters are so unhinged in chatfics my God the way people write certain characters in how they text and what they text is so icky because it's just too unhinged we gotta stop giving characters that treatment ugh uh anyways also kenji is underused in the show and underrated by fans. there should be more kenji content. also unpopular opinion, but kenji is a more interesting character than chuuya and how does chuuya have like... 20k more fics in the chuuya tag than kenji has in his own tag? nothing against chuuya - i like him! i do! but why is he treated more like a main character than kenji:( maybe i'm just sad bc kenji is my favorite and barely has ANY content. there are SO few kenji-centric fics out there and a lot of them also are kenji & chuuya friendship which... admittedly, i LOVE but i feel like there's more kenji & chuuya than kenji & the ada members which is so sad??? also he deserves better in the show! smh he wasn't even in the s5 trailer (neither were junichiro and naomi ugh so upset about that) like pls. let everyone treat kenji more like an important member of the team bC HE IS😭

[fridayyy-13th]

last line WIP game

thank you so much @milkteamoon for the tag!!! :D i've never been tagged in a writing tag game before so i got really excited when i saw this

rules: in a new post, show the last line you wrote and tag as many people as there are words in the line.

so! this is from a brand new tma WIP of mine that probably won't be done for a long time. i just had a scene bouncing around in my brain and really wanted to get it down on paper before it slipped my mind. anyway! here's the line:

He'd give it a shot anyway, tomorrow. For now, he just wanted to hold Jon for a moment longer.

i've got a tendency to be...really vague about my WIPs, bc i don't wanna get people's hopes up in case they don't get finished, but basically jon and martin just had a pretty terrible discussion/confrontation but worked things out enough to end on an alright(?) note. still not a great note. so now they're just a bit sad. they hug, end scene.

this is a new WIP that i came up with like barely two or three days ago and this scene is sort of towards the middle of the thing, so it's liable to change a lot as i hammer out story details. that said, i'm pretty happy with it, considering the fact it's a first draft spawned from half an idea lol

that's. kinda a lot of rambling. anyway the boys are sad folks

i don't think i have enough writer mutuals to tag 19 people, but here! tags! (as always, no pressure!): @rainbowstargazerlilies @ladydragonkiller @omniscientqueer @ollieofthebeholder @gentlemancrow

[woniverse-writes]

Wrosie Writes ENHYPEN/ENHA WiPs/Planned Works List

started: 5/4/2024

last updated: 6/7/2024

title: "You and I"

pairing: OT7 Enhypen x Idol!Reader

summary: everybody knows how hard it is to be in a relationship in the music industry, especially as an idol. the fear of disappointing fans, having the public be even more in your business than usual, it's hard... but it's also not stopping anyone,

tags: fem!reader, slight angst, jealousy, secret relationships, reader is a singer/idol, hinted that reader is a foreigner but like- just ignore that if it doesn't apply lol

status: not started

title: "Private, Not Secret"

pairing: OT7 Enhypen x Idol!Reader

summary: after your relationship finally goes public it makes things a little easier, and life gets a little sweeter

tags: fem!reader, slight smau, reader is a singer/idol

status: not started

title: "In the Stars"

pairing: Jungwon x Reader

summary: in a world where everyone has some sort of bonding mark tying them to their soulmate, y/n is left heartbroken on her tenth birthday when she receives no sign of any attachment to her other half. Even though everyone else felt the tug of their red ribbon or saw the appearance of their matching birthmark, y/n is still just as hopelessly romantic without a soulmate at the age of 18 as she was at the age of 9. However, everything seems to shift when a charming boy transfers to her school senior year.

tags: fem!reader, soulmate au, angst, fluff, high school au

status: started drafting 6/6/24

title: "Bittersweet Tragedy"

pairing: Vampire!Jungwon x Reader

summary: You and jungwon were best friends practically your whole childhood and into the beginning of high school. Halfway through your second year, something happened and your best friend was suddenly completely different. He wouldn't share anything about what was bothering him and eventually blew up on you, causing the friendship to end as Jungwon continued to block you out and your attempts to make things better. after two years you're still trying to figure out what went wrong

tags: fem!reader, vampire!jungwon friends to enemies to lovers, angst

status: not started

title: "Dead to Me"

pairing: Vampire!Jungwon x Reader

summary: Yang Jungwon was extremely popular among the students of Decelis Academy, it had been that way since he began attending school there and being taken in by his current friend group. They were known for being undeniably charming and alluring, attracting anyone and everyone to them- which is why y/n never understood how they were never questioned about all the girls that have gone missing in the last few years

tags: fem!reader, vampire au, angst, horror au , there is no happiness here

status: started drafting 6/2/24

title: "Kind of an Ego Thing"

pairing: Ni-Ki x Reader

summary: Y/n moved to Korea at a young age to study both acting and dancing and was eventually scouted by a company to begin training as an idol with them! Her sweet smile and charming personality had everyone immediately drawn to her. She was funny and intelligent, and extremely emotionally mature for her age, never so much as batting an eye when someone had something bitter to say about her. Yet, her patience crumbled so easily when she entered high school and had to deal with the biggest pest known to man: Nishimura Riki

tags: fem!reader, performing arts high school au, trainee!Ni-Ki, trainee!reader, enemies to lovers

status: not started

title: "All American"

pairing: Ni-Ki x Reader

summary: Engenes have this running joke that Ni-ki loves America, which isn’t exactly false! He really does love when they’re promoting in the States, but what people don’t realize is it’s because of his lovely girlfriend, who’s just as creative and talented as he is.

tags: fem!reader, singer/dancer/performer/artist!reader, idol!Ni-Ki, fluff

status: not started

title: "School Nights"

pairing: Jake x Reader

summary: Sim Jaeyun grew up well- some might say too well, but he of course had his ups and downs of adolescence, just like everyone else did. Like that time him and his friend got in trouble for graffitiing the back of the school building , or when his mother chewed him out for coming home an hour after his curfew, or when he had a slight glow-up the summer before junior year and deci

tags: high school/college au, childhood friends to lovers, suggestive, angst, jake is an idiot (for the most part)

status: started drafting 6/5/24

[riewritten]

「 MERE DROPLETS CAN STILL MAKE A GLASS FULL 」 • AO3

ERWIN X FEM!READER, ERWIN X YOU, NO Y/N

˚ · .─ SYNOPSIS: Despite blatant awareness of how much you hold him with affection, he will rely entirely on subtleties because he believes it's the farthest he must go. He'll keep doing just that until it piles up, up and up and up, until it brings Erwin on the verge of exploding. After all, mere droplets of water can still make a glass full.

˚ · .─ WORDS: 5.3k

˚ · . ─ TAGS: age gap, angst because of the age gap lol, erwin is a professor/researcher while reader is his research assistant, touch-starved idiots

Erwin Smith has always been the person to give where credit is due—sometimes excessively—despite your gaps in age, profession, and the lack of interaction when out of work premises. He can be meticulous with outputs, brutally honest even, but considerate to his research assistant nonetheless. All with constant assurances of "It's okay, you'll get the hang of it soon," and when you respond, "What if I don't?" he smiles as if to say he's been there too, "Then I failed as your mentor," he cocks his head to the side in a light tease, "and I'm not the type who fails unless I say so, am I?"

The camaraderie, the neverending reminders of how crucial collective work is, among many others—got you drawn, utterly motivated, and so you clung to him to learn more.

One evening, when Erwin says he must stay overnight at the office to finish an output, you excuse yourself. He thought you were going home until you entered again, this time with two cups of coffee.

Although seated in his office chair, how his thick blanket wraps him up seems like he’s ready to bed. He got his bed hair too—tousled, the usual gel removed because he had already washed his face. The dim lights aren’t helping in toning down his delicate features either. In fact, his reading glasses accentuated it further. And oh, the small, warm smile he gives you is even more apparent than any daylight.

“What are you doing here?

You nudge a look at your workstation, own backpack occupying the whole chair. "I hadn’t grabbed my stuff yet."

"Well,  I assumed you were gonna send me a message full of keyboard smashes and a favor to book a courier taxi for your bag."

Soft chuckles ensue as you sit on the chair before him, "I will never put you into such inconvenience, Sir, but I believe we can submit this draft if we work on it together tonight."

Erwin holds back his gratitude, not so convinced to let a youngster like you stay. Although your help is very much needed, he can't just take that for granted. You have a life outside this office. Your salary as his research assistant isn’t even that high. "Thank you for the coffee. I was just about to get out for one. But really, don't bother with this and go home."

"I insist, Sir."

"And I respectfully refuse."

Of course, you know that much. Not even a coffee bribe could convince him. That’s why you hand him a folder instead: "I saw your to-do list for tonight and remembered that I had already done the basic outline. Would you mind checking it to see if it could help?"

Easy, Erwin thought to himself. He just has to point out the mistakes, thank you for your effort, and then book a cab because it's getting really late now. However, when he opens the document, needless to say, Erwin is perplexed.

You did well; you really did. You took his brutal feedback to heart. Now he's left with no other remarks than pride. This is no basic outline at all, but rather half of the work he had to do for tonight.

It also doesn’t take his astuteness to see that you have lied. All of these were done today. Erwin is sure you sneaked into his table earlier to see his to-do list. He knows you too much to know that you had spent the rest of your shift rushing to finish it in his stead. However, Erwin also knows how flustered you’d be once he points that out, so he just opts not to. 

"Well, seems like I'll be able to sleep tonight after all," he put down the folder and smiled. "Thank you very much. This is by far the most excellent output I've got from you."

Your eyes lit up. The high praise overpowered any semblance of fluster, "Really? Is it that good?"

"It is. I just have to continue the rest. You may now go home."

"No, I told you I'm staying in for tonight."

"What else would you do?"

"Uh… help you with the rest of the output?"

"I can do that alone."

"But easier with my help!" When you sense that his insistence is, in fact, non-negotiable, you just sigh and pull out a lie. "Okay, it's because I have a favor."

"Oh?" The needed cue, perhaps. He cannot accept an offer that wouldn’t benefit both parties. If you have an agenda for this stay, then, "What could that be?"

You don't want this favor to be something he has to pay for, "Well, if my output is okay and you have no other comments, then maybe you could consider me joining the fact-finding mission next month?"

"The place isn’t finalized yet; it can be really far from here."

"I know and I still want to join either way," Besides, it gives you more chances of helping him.

"Okay, go on then, but you don't have to stay overnight for that,” Erwin chuckles. “You could've just asked me during office hours."

"I want to prove that I'm capable first."

Erwin, although tried to hide it in consideration for your feelings, got quite amused at the remark. He didn't see the possibility of you getting this insecure over your skills. "You've always been capable. You're not the longest research assistant I've had for nothing.”

"Really? Did you fire the previous ones?"

"No. I treat my RAs the way I do so with my students. You’re not my employees. It’s just that some if not most, couldn't take the demand work-wise. You're one of the few who withstood revising your output five times."

"Then all the more reason to let me stay here tonight, don't you think? With the upcoming fact-finding, I'll need this one now."

Erwin removed his glasses with a sigh, ready to bargain again. "You don't need to go this far, is what I'm telling you. You're still young; don't tie yourself over—"

"I want to learn more and stay longer in this field. I already take pride in being your longest RA, and I can do more than that! I'll get even more capable. We'll get this research internationally. If you’re talking about my youth, I have a worthwhile agenda!"

Erwin, as rare as it could be, was speechless. it’s as if he’s looking at himself, too—a younger, much more enthusiastic version of him with an unwavering thirst for knowledge. He had also realized that there’s no use stopping you. You're not the kind of person to be stopped; you're no brittle glass; you're one aching to be filled with more water.

With that, he defeatedly wears his glasses again, "Suit yourself. Don't hesitate to ask me questions while you're at it."

You beam in delight. It is surely contagious that Erwin almost smiled. "However," he sternly emphasized, "You'll sleep. I'll set the alarm. If that rings, set yourself on the couch and sleep, understood?"

It was quickly replaced with a frown, "I'll sleep after I finish."

"You're inside my office outside office hours. Your welfare is in my hands."

You turn your back in forlorn, your work plan ruined because your boss is too kind for his own good.

"Answer me."

"Yes, Sir."

Above your insincere compliance, however, Erwin feels warmth trembling inside him. It’s a sheer appreciation, an urge even, to ensure you'll have what you aspire to have.

He really assured you’d be asleep by three in the morning. When Erwin checks you on the couch, your eyebrows are curled, disappointment evident even in your subconscious state. He laughs, grabs a thicker blanket, and covers you in it—all believing that the warmth trembling inside him is just a resolve to help you achieve your goals.

What Erwin had felt since that day was something akin to a guardian. You seem to desire to reach a place exactly where he is. Although unsure of your reasons why, Erwin feels capable of doing that much.

But you know the reason quite well, and it's rather disappointing than noble. You like Erwin, and so you want to stand on equal ground. In your defense, you had a long period of denial. This could be nothing but a silly infatuation, mistaking admiration for affection, and—god, out of all reasons to use as a resolve, why a silly little crush over your boss?

The dilemma is to build up a resolve stronger than infatuation. However, infatuation doesn't last for years. It doesn't get to the point of getting included in your long-term plans in life.

So, in time, alongside Erwin getting more comfortable and closer to you, your resolve to be his equal slipped beyond the professional scheme. It transcended to your habits, to your preference, to your physical appearance—your playlist is set a generation behind, being called young irks you, you dress like your older workmates, you're eager to conceal the emotions lacking composure, the sudden surge when excited, among many other things that fit the standard of maturity.

You want to stand beside him, to be regarded as his equal, because by then, maybe… maybe he'd consider having you longer in his life.

Erwin construed your methods differently, though. He pitied you just as though the institution was depriving you of your youth. That's why when you enter your masters degree, he refers you to joining study groups of people your age. He sticks his ear out regarding college nightouts to tap you to join them. He even considered hiring another young assistant in the department so that you could have someone to jive with.

"No, I'd rather be the one to stay here. I like the way our office works right now.”

"Why? Are they out of your league? Way too old to mingle with them, perhaps?

You shrug, "Maybe. I'm not getting younger after all. Isn’t it obvious?”

"It’s not,” Erwin quips. “Let yourself be young."

"Sir, I am not young anymore."

"You are. Remember the last fact-finding? A local thought you were someone's child—"

"I will never forgive them for that!" you hissed at the memory. "I might’ve been the youngest one that time, but to say I'm an employee's child is overreacting!"

"Well, you were indeed the youngest out of everyone. It's not a surprising comment."

You don’t answer, obviously trying to keep your annoyance to yourself. It begged Erwin to ask, "Do you hate being young?"

You do! Oh hell, you do. Being younger means farther from where he is—being incapable of reaching him, holding his hand, his hair, and all the things you want to grasp with adoration. Being young means maintaining a table-away distance, which must be safeguarded so normalcy remains in peace. Being younger imposes a lot of things that render you in swirling emotions of disdain, sadness—grief, even. 

He calls your name, genuinely confused, "What's bad with being so young? You're the first person I've ever seen rushing away from it."

And, for the first time ever, Erwin is taken aback by the look you give him. It is sad, utterly sad. There’s a tinge of tremble in your lids, eyebrows curled, and if he squints his eye further, he’ll see how close you are to crying. 

However, before your eyes could speak more of what you wanted to say, you avert the gaze away and continue your job as if nothing had happened.

Erwin is quite taken aback to address the sudden peculiarity, and you couldn’t even gather the guts to clarify due to the trembling. At that moment, only one thing had registered with the older man: the talk of being young is a grave matter to you. It concerned him further.

"Hey," Hange, your workmate, places a cold can of coffee on your cheek, "Penny for your thoughts? You're quite down lately."

"I almost cried in front of Mr. Smith last week."

"Oh? Maybe that's why Erwin told me to look over you more often. What brought you that, though? You seem to be immune to his brutal standards by now."

"It's quite more childish than that."

"You're not even old. Let yourself be childish."

You frowned badly, "That's what he told me."

Hange takes a while to grasp the context, but when they finally do, "You're getting on my nerves now, huh! Youthfulness is not something to shed a tear for!"

"Being young exposes me to a lot of belittling!"

"Seriously? Just because of that?"

"People look at me as though I'm lacking many things!"

"Even people as old as Erwin can be as lacking as you are!"

"But they can still stand beside him as equal either way! Despite lacking many things in life, all of you can reach him in a way I never could because of my age! Because I'm automatically seen as someone inferior due to youthfulness! I know it's not something to frown upon, but I'm getting quite sick of it, too, you know?"

However, the sharp Hange went past the said concern. It says a lot with the way they call your name with wide eyes, "Don't tell me you…you like him?" The last word is a whisper, just as if someone from behind has been listening all along.

That realization drenches you in cold water.

You turn sidewards slowly, hoping in all your might that it isn't what you think it is.

Oh, how you hate to be right.

Erwin didn't make his presence known while you and Hange were talking—no apparent emotion present, and yet it didn't take you much to know that he heard it nonetheless. There's something only you could notice, too. For the past few days, Erwin's face has been full of questions about finding something—something very apparent but still out of reach.

The hint of bother is gone now. He had reached his answer.

He now knows you like him.

You almost feel yourself throwing up. 

"Okay," Hange said from behind, "well… if you really don't like to be deemed as young, then I respect that. It's not like your reasons are irrational." 

By that time, you couldn’t hear Hange’s rationalizations anymore. In fear that Erwin would refer you to another person needing RA as a better choice to expand your horizons, you never gave anyone a chance to talk about it again—not Hange, not Erwin, and even more so, your own mind.

You didn't know how Erwin processed that information, but there's one thing you noticed: Erwin's attempts to jive you along your age group had stopped, and he never called you young again.

Only if you knew the reason why.

Only if you knew that, in hindsight, it'd just be very understandable, very human of him to rather die than act upon the feelings he has for you, not only because of the probable ruin it’d bring to his reputation, but also because he’s scared for you, for your future, for the endless opportunities you could have if not tied by your affection towards him.

And thus, he'd rely on the subtleties of loving you silently. He is glad you never brought up the unintentional confession again. He believes that due to that, you two went back to normal as quickly as possible. Senior to junior relationship. The researcher and his assistant. The mentor and his mentee. The normalcy. Every semblance of normalcy you two could hang on, as if your relationship, even after all those years, is none but a brittle glass. There has to be a certain amount, a certain pressure, just so it would not break apart.

Erwin loves subtleties. He doesn’t mind the arrangement at all. You're short on money? He'll lend you one—only because you'd never let yourself not pay him back. You look tired? He'll offer cups of coffee to everyone in the office so it doesn’t get obvious that the gesture is only for you. You need someone to talk to and listen to your funny stories, perhaps? Heck, that would be his utmost favorite profession.

He'll keep doing just that until the subtleties in question start to pile up, and up and up. Until Erwin realizes, “No, I am not okay with this arrangement at all.” He can only fool himself for a certain period of time. After all, mere droplets of water can still make a glass full. 

As his most capable and astute—perhaps even too sharp for your own good—you'll start picking up clues from his quiet verges. The ticking time bomb flashed before you upon overhearing Erwin and Levi talking alone.

“You’re decided now? Really? After all we had gone through to keep this institution alive?”

"It's only a matter of time until I lose myself. Losing myself means running whatever she has for herself."

"You manage not to lose yourself all this time. What difference would this make? As long as you keep your hands in place like every other day, then everything will remain in its rightful place. Everyone needs you here, Erwin."

For a moment, you sure saw a cynical look on Erwin. “People like me are always meant to be replaced eventually, Levi. I know you can do it.”

“I could if I deem the reason valid,” Levi scorns. “You’ve never been like this. All you had worked so hard for only to be sapped by your underling.” 

He chuckles, albeit sadly. "I underestimated the things she could do without her knowing."

Indeed, he might've done just that. Slowly but surely, you tried to convince him to stay in your own subtle ways. You reiterated Levi’s remarks about how the institution needs him, and eventually, when his resolve didn't waver, you broke down. You broke down, begging that you need him.

"If this concerns your teetering control over your affection, I'll try my best not to disturb you!"

 If Erwin weren't so level-headed, Erwin would surely break his composure.

"You knew?"

"If you're so scared to shatter this peaceful and normal setup, then I'll set my mind to not ruining it, too! Just please, please don't go.”

You knew. You knew. You knew.

As if things couldn't get any worse, you huffed a sob when Erwin’s silence persisted. Eventually, he smiled. It's no use underestimating you further, after all. He deems you sharp and smart for a reason. In that measly smile, you knew he’d never change his mind anymore. Oh, there's no use underestimating each other.

"This is something I really want to do for myself," Erwin called your name; empathy laced his voice, "I hope you understand."

You sob harder. And for the first and last time, Erwin lets himself give in to his vices. He walks towards you and wraps your sullen figure in his embrace. He doesn’t hug too hard, but rather just enough to deem it a friendly farewell—not in any way related to his unwavering but forbidden affection.

Years after Erwin had gone overseas, it came to you that he had married someone. The marriage didn't last long. Most people in the office believed that his declining health after that—according to his colleagues there—was due to the divorce.

Voiding yourself of any lament that his affection might be something he left in this office, you set your mind to following him. Somehow, there's this silly, silly thought inside your head, and the only way to satiate it is to prove yourself wrong.

"Erwin heard you're planning to follow him there."

"Really? What did he say?"

"He didn't take the news well. Asked me to change your mind instead."

"Levi, you're not making me change my mind by outing him."

"We both know no one can convince you anymore once you set your mind to it. Erwin knows it, too. He’s just desperate, hence the favor,” he tiredly muses. "Just… just don't make this harder as it is."

"Why? Why would I make it harder? What relevance do I even have?"

"You know the reason why he left."

"And? He moved on!” You almost feel your blood boil; the remark left a bitter taste in your mouth. “He had a wife not long after!"

"And if I tell you that the reason he got divorced is the same reason why he left us here, what then?" Levi raises his eyebrows as if taunting, and because you were too shocked to retort, he just nods sarcastically. “You couldn’t take it, yeah? Too unbearable? That’s what I thought.”

You're not even there yet, and you've already proved your silly thoughts right.

Minutes pass until you open your mouth again, "I'm not the one to rely on groundless rumors."

"Rumor is the last thing that will come out of my mouth."

"I already booked a flight."

Levi rolls his eyes, defeated, upon realizing you’re about to cry. He leaves the room without a word, leaving you and the tears teetering at the lid of your eyes.

Upon arrival at the country he’s in, you sought him first and foremost. He gave a small smile, full of endearing familiarity, but in the corner of his eyes, there was this lurking forlorn.

"You look like you've seen better days, Sir."

He tiredly laughs, "And you're not making this easier for me."

"I know… but I stand by my word. I decided not to ruin this peaceful and normal setup you've so bravely built for us."

You made sure the sarcasm would be too apparent to miss. Surely, it rendered Erwin in a tormenting silence. A squint of your eyes and you’d see how—in a couple of seconds—close he was from shattering. His fingertips shook, perhaps from the urge to act upon his feelings, an urge he expertly ignored until he couldn’t anymore. You saw his eyes turn even more poignant, only to blink so they would display a relatively more appropriate emotion. He opened his mouth only to close it again, open and close, until he gulped down. In the end, Erwin still bravely decided not to shatter the professionalism between you.

Erwin nods and calls your name, thankful, "Indeed, we had worked so hard to do that much. I trust you to keep that attitude up."

However, to your surprise, Erwin asked you to dinner three weeks after you settled. Now, as you sit by each other with drinks in your hands, there comes lurking questions of "what if?" inside your heads.

You silently ponder about what if you didn't let Erwin be bothered by your concerns about age in the first place. Maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't get a country far away from you, not to the point of taking someone as his wife so that he could throw away his affection. 

But then, thinking about it just makes you annoyed right now.

Unlike before, you’re trying your best this time. You’re trying even better in toning yourself down. You ensure day by day that you'll never cross into each other. You never try to see him unless he asks. Knowing that he's nearby keeps you at ease already. That's what you're on all this time—not to be too far from where he is. 

So why did he ask you out tonight?

Erwin speaks of his “what if” when the silence got too tormenting for him. "Maybe if I referred you to another division as soon as I heard that, then—" he doesn’t finish the remark, though; everything was enough with his defeated sigh. Despite the lack of eye contact, you can observe that he's already drunk, too.

You took that to your benefit.

"What would change?"

"A lot of things, I'm sure."

"Such as…?"

"The need to undergo this kind of torment."

You could almost feel yourself crumbling. This was supposedly a catching-up night out. It was going well so far.

"Is liking me really that distasteful for you back then?" you joke—oh, you hope you could tone it as a joke. Erwin chuckles. The chuckle gave you a sigh of relief.

"Levi had told you even that one, I see."

The conversation is starting to leave a bitter taste in your mouth. You start to fidget around the hem of your blouse, unsure if the sensation is due to the drink or the conversation. "I think I've drunk enough. I have errands to do early in the morning. I guess we'll—"

"Liking you was never a distasteful matter for me."

You stop. The churn in your stomach gets even larger. If he says it this softly, how could you stop the urge to run to him, hold him close in comfort, and say that it was never his fault that he liked you—that both of you are not at fault for liking each other?

"Liking you was never a distasteful matter; acting upon that likeness is," he added.

"You never acted upon it."

"I did," Erwin dismissed the notion quickly despite his mind slowed down by the drink, "I acted upon it because I didn't transfer you to another professor as soon as I realized why you don't want to be young anymore."

"Because no one brought it up again. I made sure no one would—"

"I acted upon it because I took advantage of your preference never to bring that up. I hid along the subtleties and even enjoyed doing so."

Erwin then places his glass of wine on the table. It's empty. You want to fill it up yourself; if only the taste of wine in your mouth didn't get too bitter to handle.

When you feel the bitterness tipping tears in your eyes, you reply, "I decided not to ruin this peaceful and normal setup you built for us. We're not—" The bitterness didn't subside; it says a lot with tears cutting you off midway, "—fuck."

"Why did you follow me here?"

"I didn't. I saw this as an opportunity for the betterment of my goals."

"What goals, exactly?"

Of reaching you where you are—both of you know that would be your primary, unchanging answer. "Goal to find myself somewhere somehow. I can’t do that there.”

He smiled at the lie, "Are you sure you'll be able to find yourself here?"

"I always find myself wherever you are."

His smile falters in a bit of surprise. He never thought it'd be a truth on your end.

"I said we're not supposed to talk about this; why would you—" You finally give in to the grief. You cover your face and sob, "I've set my mind on it. I already ensured I would—"

"Do you still like me?"

His question freezes you, your cries, the motion and sound of the place surrounding you, even.

"It's an irrelevant question, sir. There's no point in hearing my answer."

"How about my answer?" Erwin prompts. "Are you okay without hearing it?"

Huh?

You look up at him, breath getting heavier. "What do you mean…?"

Instead, he looks at you straight in the eye. He might be a bit drunk, but he decided this with a clear mind. This is why he asked you tonight, "Don't you want to hear my answer?"

"I want to."

He nods as expected, "Then answer it first."

"I still like you," you looked away in a fluster. "It never wavered despite your attempts to go away from me."

"I was away from you for five years," Erwin says. Despite the gentleness, you could feel how he emphasized the time out of frustration. “Do you have any idea how long five years is?”

"Yes, and still. Your efforts were futile. I told you so. It would help no one. Going far away from me would help no one.

The statement renders him in silence yet again. You’re about to give the question back at him until you notice the fragile expression he has on his face. He’s looking down at the glass, now half full, but with sullen eyes and defeated composure.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

"I asked for it," Erwin clarifies.

"I know."

"And I'm yet to give my answer."

"Please do."

"Are you sure you want to hear it?"

Honestly, you fear he'd say no—that he doesn't like you anymore. Worse, that he liked his then-wife more than you. However, any answer that warrants his complete honesty is something you need to be able to move forward from tonight.

Your ponders are cut off when he cups your cheek. It tilted your face slightly, but just enough to look him in the eye again. This is the first time you see his eyes up close. Your heart would jump in delight if not for his sad face. Erwin’s thumb then moves circular motions on your cheeks as if savoring the first time it's ever been granted the privilege of touching you intimately.

"It never wavered for me, too, but I guess this answer isn't surprising on your end, is it?"

"I… never got the chance to confirm it, so…"

"That's why," his hold on your cheek gets quite tighter, and voice turned into a whisper—into a tiny, desperate plea. “Please don't make this harder for us and go back there. Can you do that for me?"

"Why would it be harder if we both like each other?"

Was the question too naive? That's the first thing you thought, and Erwin answered yes, it is, by wrapping his palm on your other cheek. 

"In a hopeful and kinder world, we wouldn't budge an eye with what others say. It won't bother you a bit if your loved ones scorn you. You'd take the institution's disdain with a grain of salt. You'd look past beyond the side eyes of your friends and colleagues because it's not a big deal." he paused as he shot a look all over your face, finding a hint of understanding. "You see, we're not in a hopeful and kinder world I'm speaking of."

"But I can do what you said despite that."

"And the thing is, I can't," Erwin admits. "I couldn't live at the thought of subjecting both of us to that position."

You feel your cheeks numbing, every fluid inside you emptying as if something cracked underneath. 

"Do you understand? It's not just the things we can do, but also the things we can't at all."

"Are you not willing to try?"

"Dying would be way easier for me."

Oh.

Oh no.

When you’re not able to answer, his hands gently withdraw away from your cheeks—the simple touch, perhaps, was able to satiate the years-long yearning for him.

And most of all, he was able to register his point.

"Days after your arrival, I realized that our normalcy is now nothing but a foolish facade. It's been ruined since the day you came here,” he chugs the last bits of his drink before readying himself to go, "All I'm asking for is a favor. I don't want to spend the rest of our lives like this."

You had never thought how requited love could inflict greater pain than love unreturned. It’s not mere droplets that made the glass full this time, but rather a huge downpour that cracked it into pieces.

You could neither nod to agree nor glare in disdain. All you could do is grab your things and walk away from the scene even before he could witness the crying mess that you're about to be due to his words.

As Erwin watches you storm out, he clasps the hands that just touched your cheeks. Erwin hoped that alone—as your cheeks, scent, and your very presence were the most pleasant thing he had laid upon for years—he hoped that would suffice for him. After all, despite the shattering confrontation, he could confirm that the warmth he felt upon touching your cheeks just now was the same as the night he saw you sleeping on the office couch.

And the warmth will stay for as long as he lives, unrelentingly ungranted.

NEXT CHAPTER >>>

[fleuranna]

I win

how many posts do y'all have in ur drafts

[itslottiehere]

even the sun gets clouded sometimes (h.s) —  part three

hello beautiful people! here we are, part three is all yours. this fic means so much to me, and this part is extremely autobiographic, and i just hope you don’t mind that lol. i just wanted to thank you again for the crazy support i received on this fic, it still doesn’t feel real. thank you, thank you, thank you. please, as always, read the trigger warnings. it’s a sensitive topic, and i don’t want anyone to feel uncomfortable. as always, please leave your feedback in my asks on in the tags, it’s really important! without further ado, happy reading! love you all <3

> part one | part two

masterlist | leave your feedback or requests here

tw: angst, fluff, swearing, talk of self harm.

word count: 8.4k (grab a snack)

—

their movie nights became a regular thing. every week, one of them would text the other “movie night?” and in a half hour at most they were sitting on her couch, a take out of some sorts on the coffee table, deciding who could choose the movie that night. it usually happened after a hard day, like when harry’s car got totalled (and he got to sleep on her couch again. “double win this time”, he thought) or when she had back to back clients who were way too rude, and she just wanted to relax. if someone had asked her a month before if she thought about spending time with harry as “relaxing”, she would’ve laughed at their faces for 10 minutes straight. but it turned out that harry’s a great listener, a really good one. maybe not so much at giving advice.

“just tell him to fuck off.”

“harry, i can’t do that, he’s my boss!”

“and what? bosses can’t fuck off?” 

this went on for a few weeks, and in that time she got to know a little bit more of harry: his interests, his hobbies, the movies he liked best.

he was a real fan of romcoms, and the dichotomy was extremely funny: a tall, well-built man, who had a resting face that seemed to be of someone bothered 24/7, who teared up whenever he saw a cliché love story.

harry would argue all the time that he was definitely not crying, and she’d let it slide. it was kinda cute. 

she also learned that harry was a lover of cats, and wished he could get one but feared that they were going to get lonely, with him being out most of the time.

“it’d be nice to have someone around, you know? the apartment gets lonely sometimes.”

she nodded solemnly, understanding perfectly what he was saying. sometimes it was just nice to have someone there with you. not in a romantic way, not even in a friendly way, but just in.. an existing together kind of way. 

she felt the same often, and that’s why niall was frequently over at her place. he loved being at her’s — mostly for the couch and the beer she kept just for him in the fridge — and she liked the company.

harry actually found out a bit more about her. she didn’t share much — and he didn’t dare ask any personal questions this time, still embarrassed about what happened almost two months and a half before. but he learned what she did for a living, which was interesting.

“yeah, i work for a publishing company. that’s why i have a thousand books all over, i can’t seem to find a place for every one of them. but it’s okay, i love being surrounded by them.”

“but the others say that you’re on the night shift whenever you are not out with us, made me think you were a nurse?”

“oh well, they say that when i stay late at the office. i usually stay there till after 11pm, hence why they call it “the night shift”.”

“why do you stay so late?” harry inquired, putting his chin into his hand, leaning a bit forward.

“sometimes it’s because i have a deadline, or because i’m reading a draft that’s just too captivating and i didn’t even realise that time passed. i really enjoy my job, and even if sometimes i have to deal with not-so-nice clients or a crabby boss, i love it all the same.” 

“i see, that’s pretty great, actually. not many people get to say that about their job, you know?” she just nodded. “so, any new novels i should be on the lookout for?”

on friday night, harry texted her “movie night?”, even though they already had one on monday, but he was so tired from the week and just wanted to relax. and seeing her was what made him the most relaxed.

more times than not, he wouldn’t be able to finish the movie, nodding off about halfway. then he was waken up by soft — albeit, slightly cold — hands of a certain someone, who put a quilt that smelled so much like her on him and was picking up his legs, urging him to lay down and get in a more comfortable position.

she never woke him up telling him to go home, just offered him a place to stay. he really couldn’t put into words how much he appreciated that.

so, he was hoping to see her and perhaps get to sleep on that soft couch, surrounded by everything that reminded him of her. he didn’t know if it was weird, how much comfort she brought him. 

all his hopes were crushed when she texted him back.

“i’m so sorry, i’m on the night shift. rain check?” 

he stopped in his tracks. he was already on his way to pick up dinner, because she never said no. 

not even when she was on her period and wanted to just be swaddled in a soft blanket, away from the world. she told him that he could come over, but she had one simple condition.

“please bring over the greasiest burger you can think of. there’s an extra key under the doormat, i can’t stand up.” 

when he arrived, he did find the keys and he opened the door. he saw her all curled on the couch, and he could’ve just smothered her cheeks with kisses.

the thought scared him at first, but when he really thought of it, it was the same feeling he got whenever he saw a cute little kitten or puppy. like, a cute aggression kind of feeling. 

he saw her face light up as soon as he came in her line of sight.

“well, that’s a nice change.” he thought. perhaps her smile was directed to the burger sitting in the bag on the coffee table, but harry thought it was directed to him as well.

so, to hear her say she couldn’t make it to movie night, made him frown. he really, really wanted to see her. he was even going to let her choose the movie! 

but a change of plans was needed.

—

it was nearing 8pm, her stomach was rumbling and her eyes were about to close. all she wanted that night was go home, have a nice bath and get into some cozy pjs, preparing herself for the christmas shopping she had to do during the weekend. 

the thought of asking harry to come over for a movie night crossed her mind, but she didn’t want to bother him, he probably had better plans for a friday night. she was more of a homebody, so staying at home sounded like a dream, but harry told her he liked going out in clubs and such.

that’s why she was surprised when he texted her, and she hated telling him no, but she had too many things on the following monday, so she thought she would get ahead as much as she could.

which meant that she had to turn down movie night, and she just knew he had that cute pout on his lips, that he’d get once she’d won the third round of “rock, paper, scissors” for who could choose the movie that night.

around 8:15, there was a soft knock on her office door.

“oh sorry guys, i’ll get out right now but you can also not clean this room, i’m going home late!” she got up from her chair and started picking up her papers so she could get out of the cleaning crew’s hair.

but when a familiar mop of curly hair came through the door, she stopped cleaning up.

“harry? what are you doing here? is everything okay?”

“yeah, yeah, everything’s fine. i brought dinner.” he came through the door and walked into her office.

“but... why? a-and how do you know where i work?” she looked at him quizzically.

“i texted sarah and asked her for the address. and why? can’t i just want to see you?”

she couldn’t stop her cheeks from getting warm, as warm as the feeling she was feeling in her belly. he wanted to see her. 

“no no, of course.” she coughed a little. “please sit. and thank you so much, i’m so hungry.”

“yeah, i know, i could hear your stomach growling from the end of the hall.” he chuckled.

“hey!” she acted offended, but was smiling as wide as him.

they ate their dinner — well, she inhaled her food — and they chatted a bit.

“so, tell me more about your job. about you, in general. it feels like i’ve done all the talking these last couple of months.” he cleaned his hands on the paper towel, getting his fingers clean from the sticky sauce.

“uhm, i don’t have much to tell, i’m not that interesting to be honest.”

“i think i have to disagree.” he looked up at her, and she could feel herself swoon. “why are you here tonight?”

“oh, i just have back to back staff meetings on monday morning, and then i have meetings with clients in the afternoon and i��m not going to be done with everything in time if i don’t stay late tonight. i need to have the weekend free of work.” she confessed, clearing up her desk from their containers. 

“need a weekend away from everything?” he wondered. 

“i do, yeah.” she smiled. “but that’s not happening this weekend, unfortunately. i have to shop for christmas presents, i’m already late and i have to get them all at once, and it’s really overwhelming.” she sighed.

“you’re tired.” he noted.

“not all that nice to hear that for a woman, you know? it means i look bad.” 

“no, it’s not what i meant. i just can see your eyes halfway closed. you can’t work right now, you’re falling asleep.”

“but i need to, harry, i have to fin-“

“no, you don’t.” he interrupted her, his gaze piercing. “i’m getting you home. and i won’t take no for an answer.” 

“but harry, i-“

“nope. we’re going home.”

“but-“

“do i need to pick you up and carry you to the car? because i will do it if you keep fighting me on this.”

she looked at him, wondering how the hell they ended up there. 

harry just tilted his head to the side. “you ready?”

it felt like she had no other choice but to nod.

—

when she asked him to stay and watch a movie, harry couldn’t say no, finally getting what he wanted all along.

this time he knew he probably wasn’t going to be the one to fall asleep first, for once! as soon as she was asleep and in bed, he was going to go home. 

his plans slightly changed though, because a sleepyhead decided to rest her head on his lap, and he couldn’t move an inch. he wouldn’t.

and honestly? he really didn’t want to. 

it was like when a cat decides to rest its head on you. you are the chosen one, and you will not move till the cat moves first. 

now, instead of a cute ball of fur, there was a just as cute girl, curled up with her hand close to his knee, lightly fisting the fabric of his trousers. 

she didn’t fall asleep that way, but when harry saw the uncomfortable position in which she passed out, he had to do something to make her a little more comfortable. and that’s how they ended up here.

he saw her sleeping before — at adam’s cabin, especially — but never got to linger on her features.

he could see she had a slight furrow in her brows, and he just wanted to put the pad of his finger against her skin and smooth it out. was she having a bad dream? was she overthinking even when asleep? was she uncomfortable? 

then he focused on the curve of her nose, and lastly on her lips. they were slightly pouted, a bit open, and just looked so soft. so pretty, and pink, and soft.

harry couldn’t say this was the first time he thought something like that. he found himself often looking at her lips, especially since she told him she usually focuses on them when people talk.

“like, i don’t want to seem like a creep, but if i don’t watch a person’s mouth while they talk to me, it’s like 90% of the information doesn’t reach my ears.” 

and since then, he couldn’t stop himself from doing that. although, he often did that with her only. 

huh, weird.

and then he started watching her lips when she would eat, seeing how she kept them shut while she was chewing, because she couldn’t bear hearing people making noises with their mouths when they eat. harry got a pillow straight to his face one time, followed by the threat of her smashing his teeth in if he didn’t cut it out. a feisty one, she is.

and while he observed them in all of these occasions, he noticed how plump they were, how pink and just... pretty.

one night, when he was a bit tipsy, he was just about to tell her all of this, but thanks to his lucky starts sarah unknowingly came to his rescue, tearing her away from him and dragging her to the bathroom.

he thought that was for the best, she should never had to know the thoughts he had swirling through his mind. it mostly happened when he was unconscious, especially when he was staying over at her house.

“it’s just because you’re literally surrounded by her stuff. you are in her apartment, on her couch, with her quilt around you, her smell lingering. it’s fine.” he thought to himself, a pathetic way of shoving his dreams out of his mind.

when he first dreamt about kissing her, he was scared shitless. they had been friends for about a little over a month then, and he felt a bit weird dreaming about a friend that way. 

it wasn’t even something dirty, they were just having fun at the park, he was pushing her on the swings.

“higher, harry, higher!” 

“love, if i push you any higher you’re going to fall!” he said laughing.

“i don’t care, just do that, please!”

“no love, i can’t, you’re gonna get hurt.” 

she started slowing down once he stopped pushing her and when she was almost still, he came in front of her, stopping her for good when he placed his hands on her knees, crouching down a little to get to her face level.

when he caught the look she had on her face, he could’ve just melted. she was pouting, pouting, for pete’s sake.

“hey, what’s this all about?” he said, pointing at her lips.

“you didn’t push me higher.” she looked at him, trying her hardest to keep her pouting face, but he could see the smile that wanted to creep up on her face. 

“aw baby, want me to make it better?” he said sweetly, tilting his head to the side.

“yes, please. thank you.” she smiled a little, looking at him. 

and that’s when he leaned in, leaving a sweet kiss, taking her plush bottom lip between his. he could feel her crumble underneath his touch, even if he was seeing this from a third person point of view. he could feel the soft skin of her lips, tasting her cinnamon chapstick, and what he imagined — and was almost positive — she just tasted like: the sweetest nectarines of the best summer of your life.

when he pulled away, he saw her eyes were still closed, as if she was wanted to bask in the moment for just a second longer.

“made it better?” he told her, smirking at her still flushed face.

“mmh mmh, i think so.” she finally opened her eyes, and smiled back at him. “now, your turn!”

“love, how do you think you’re going to be able to push me!” 

“shut up, i’m strong.” he gave her a cut the bullshit look, and she was absolutely offended. “i’ll show you, c’mon! get on then!” 

he woke up gasping, looking around the room to understand where he was. when he realised he was at her apartment, he groaned a bit. of course he was. 

as said, he was scared. not just by the kiss itself, but by the sheer intimacy of it, because it clearly wasn’t the first they shared, anyone could’ve seen that. he also noticed how happy she was, how loud her laugh was, how comfortable she had to feel with him to show him her more childish side.

what scared him most, you ask?

the fact that he envied the dream version of him. 

ever since then, those kind of dreams came to his mind often, but he always pushed them aside, as games his mind was playing on him. he didn’t think about kissing her when he was awake, did he?

“no, i don’t”, he kept telling himself.

but seeing her all curled up against him, her lips looking so soft and plump made him think twice about his words. 

instead of just laying one on her — when she was unconscious, may he add — he decided to tuck the hair that fanned over her face behind her ear, with a touch so light he thought that he wasn’t even touching her. but he wanted this contact to last a little bit longer.

so, he lightly grazed his finger over her cheek. even her skin was soft as a pillow, what was wrong with her?

he run his thumb along her jaw, and when he felt her shift, he panicked.

“shit, shit, shit, don’t wake up, don’t wake up, please.” he murmured so quietly it was barely a whisper, putting his hands up as if she was going to go off like a bomb.

she didn’t wake up, but she did turn her head, from facing the tv to facing harry. she brought her hand again at — now — the top of his thighs, but instead of holding onto his trousers, she gripped his sweater, that was a bit baggy.

“thank fuck” he thought, because she would’ve grabbed his crotch if she didn’t find that sweater. 

—

after the movie was over — harry didn’t pay too much attention to it, after she fell asleep — he thought it was time to make her go to bed and rest properly. but he really didn’t want to wake her up.

so he tried to pry his sweater away from her fist, just so he could lay down her head on the couch and get up. he did just that, and once he was on his feet, he crouched down again, putting one arm under her knees and one under her back, picking her up. 

when she was finally in his arms, she curled up against him, tucking her head in his chest, a hand spread at the center of it. harry looked up to the ceiling, asking any god or ethereal being what the hell did he do to deserve this.

once they reached her bedroom door, he opened it with his foot and carried her to her bed. he tucked her in, and as he was about to leave when he felt someone gently take his wrist, and heard a soft voice, barely a whisper.

“stay over? don’t wanna wake up alone.”

and could he really say no to that? 

could he really say no to her? 

she was asleep before he could answer, so he just took her hand, squeezed it and told her under his breath. “of course, love.”

—

the following morning harry woke up before her, which was kind of unusual. she was usually the one who stirred him awake to have breakfast — she got better at cooking eggs and pancakes, so he didn’t have to lie anymore about just drinking coffee in the mornings. 

but last night she must’ve been spent, she probably wanted to sleep in a little more.

that gave him time to look around her living room, seeing how she decorated for christmas. there was a huge tree, probably almost three meters, with warm yellow fairy lights and red and gold adornments, a shiny star on the top.

then there were all kinds of trinkets all around, even little statues of mary, jesus and joseph, the whole nativity scene. he didn’t know she was a religious person. 

he thought it must’ve taken her so long to decorate all by herself, especially the tree. she probably climbed over something to put the star on top, risking to fall down and get hurt. couldn’t she have asked him to help her?

he decided to stop lurking and go into her kitchen to fetch some ingredients to make her breakfast, for a change. when breakfast was almost ready, he decided to go wake her up.

he walked into her bedroom as quietly as possible, not wanting to startle her awake. when harry reached her sleeping figure, he put his hand on her shoulder, shaking a little.

“good morning, sleepyhead. it’s time to wake up.”

she grunted in response.

“c’mon now, breakfast is almost ready.”

she grunted again, making him chuckle.

“not a morning person, are you?”

“just five more minutes, please.” she croaked. he muttered a low “alright”, and went to go back to the kitchen, but her fingers grabbed his wrist.

“stay here, i’m cold. heater must not be working properly.”

he couldn’t say if he was more happy or shocked by her request. smirking, he sat back down on the bed, close to her legs. but that wouldn’t cut it, clearly. 

“what are you doing all over there? get in here.” she moved the comforter and patted the bed underneath. when she noticed he wasn’t moving from his spot, she spoke up again. “hey, get in here quick, the heat is going to leave.”

he chuckled, and finally stood up and got into bed beside her. he wasn’t even in there for two seconds, that she was already wrapped around him, as if he was going to disappear.

“just five minutes, right?” he softly asked her, his arm going around her shoulders, hand on her bicep.

“yeah, five minutes.” her face was tucked in his neck, and he could feel her lips grazing the skin of his throat when she spoke.

she really was cold, and she had been the whole night. when he carried her to bed last night, she was half awake, and when she asked him to stay over, she imagined he was going to sleep with her in her bed. but then, he went back to the living room, and she was just too tired to call him back.

so, when harry came to wake her up, she tried putting it a little more plainly, and even then the man couldn’t take the hint. 

5 minutes soon turned into an half hour, and she can’t lie: she never felt so comfortable. who knew harry was so great at cuddling?

the both of them were in that sleepy state when you’re not really asleep but you’re not totally awake either, and if she didn’t have to run to the shops to buy christmas presents, then she would’ve stayed there for the whole day. 

harry could describe the feeling as heaven, nothing ever felt so right. how come they didn’t cuddle before? 

but other questions came to mind: what’s happening? why did he wish he could stay in this bed forever? why does her tracing patters on his chest make him feel like he’s on a rollercoaster? 

when they finally dragged themselves out of her bed — that was even more comfy than her couch, if possible — breakfast was indeed ruined and they decided to eat while they went out.

“wait, you want to go christmas shopping with me?”

“you’re the nut job who’s going shopping for presents five days before christmas. you need all the help you can get.”

and so, off to the shops they were.

but here’s the thing: how can you purchase a present for someone who’s right there with you? and what the hell would he like for a present? she had absolutely no clue what to get him.

maybe he wasn’t getting her a present, but she wouldn’t care, after all they started being friends only for a few months before, she wasn’t expecting anything from him. but hell was going to freeze over before she didn’t get him a present, that was for sure.

she got all the others presents, and harry went back to her apartment, looking like a porter with all the bags he had in hand.

“you sure you got everything? don’t you have a third grade cousin that needs something? or a remote uncle that you haven’t seen in 17 years?”

“my god, you should be a comedian.” she looked at him with a fake smile.

“i don’t even know how they are going to receive these if you bought them today.” he scoffed. “mind opening the door for me, darling?”

“i’m trying! you’re a pain in the ass, styles.” she grumbled. “and i’m going to spend tonight packing them, and then i’ll overnight them. i don’t know if they’ll get the presents in time for christmas, but it’s the thought that counts.”

she finally managed to open her apartment door, and let harry go in first: the man couldn’t wait to drop all the boxes and bags.

“and i wouldn’t have this problem if i went back home for the holidays, but i’m not, so here we are.” she said while closing the door.

“why aren’t you going home?” and why did she sound so upset about it?

“you know, work, life, stuff. i hope to see them a little later next year, but going back now was impossible for me.” she shrugged.

“i see. at least we’re going to spend it all together, though?”

“yeah, it’s going to be great, i bet.” she gave him a tight lipped smile, which didn’t sit right with him.

“what’s up?” he asked.

“nothing, what?”

“you’re not the only one who can read people. tell me what’s going on in your mind.” he looked at her pacing around the room, leaving the presents on the kitchen table.

“it’s nothing important, it’s probably going to sound so silly, you wouldn’t-“

“i wouldn’t have asked if i didn’t care. please, tell me.”

she took a deep breath and sat on the couch. “it’s just that christmas is my favourite holiday. i love the atmosphere and back home we really celebrate christmas: a table of no least than 20 people, all the aunts and uncles and cousins, people who i probably see once a year, at that very dinner.

and then we have all these traditions, little things that make me miss home. like, my mum used to wake up me and my sister with christmas music on christmas day, every single year, and she still does it every time we get back home for the holidays.

or like, on christmas eve, me, mum and my sister go to the church i used to go to when i was younger for the vigil, and we have this mass that it’s like two hours long but it’s just so beautiful. i wouldn’t consider myself a religious person, but being in that room just brings me so much comfort that i can’t even put into words.” she looked up at him, eyes a bit teary.

“then we used to come home, around 11am and we would watch “the grinch” while we waited for midnight to open our presents.” she sighed. “it’s such a special holiday for me, and when i think about the fact that there was a time when it didn’t feel like that, when i was away from them... i don’t know, it makes me sad.” she gave him a small smile, looking down at her shoes.

“hey.” he put his hand on her knee. “we don’t have to talk about this, any of this. i’m sorry i pushed you, i didn’t want to make you sad.”

“no, it’s okay.” she swallowed thickly. “i- uh.” he saw she was struggling to find the words.

“i think i’d like to speak about that, if you wanted to hear about it. i don’t want to force you to stay there and just... i don’t know, throw all my trauma at you.” 

“you wouldn’t. i would gladly listen, if you feel comfortable enough, though. niall is going to rip my head off if you aren’t.” the last part he murmured under his breath.

“what was that?” she inquired.

“nothing important, love. whenever you are ready.”

she took another deep breath, sitting crisscrossed on the couch, facing him but with her head looking towards her fingers, which she was basically tearing apart. 

“since i was a child, i used to feel things, emotions, very strongly. i would always say that they would feel amplified, and i absolutely loved that. i loved feeling everything so deeply, because it reminded me that i was alive and i was here and i could do anything i wanted to. but once i moved away, i don’t know what happened, but i just started feeling a little less, and a little less. till i was numb. 

i was desperate, i couldn’t recognise the person looking back at me in the mirror. i didn’t cry, i didn’t laugh, i was just... being, existing. i was younger, i was stupid and i did something even more stupid, just wishing that i would feel something, even if that something was pain.” her voice started wavering, she pulled her lips in her mouth in an attempt to stop her tears from falling.

harry was watching her, but didn’t dare utter a word. she was finally opening up — he doesn’t know if for the first time ever or not, but he didn’t dream of interrupting her, if she wanted to go on.

after a little while, when it seemed like she calmed down a bit, she resumed talking. 

“it went on for a while. it wasn’t just the physical aspect of it that was causing me problems, but also the mental state i was in. i cut everyone out of my life, didn’t go home for two years straight: i skipped christmas, birthday dinners, anniversaries. i felt like the worst person ever walking on earth, but i still couldn’t really feel anything. and that just made me spiral, because i was mourning the person i was before. i missed her. fuck, i missed her so much.” she sniffled. 

“but then, one day i just knew that it all was getting too much, that i couldn’t keep going like this or else the ending i was heading towards was going to be catastrophic. so i reached out and asked for help: i went to therapy, and i still go to this day. not exactly for the same reasons, but mostly to have a place where i can just let go, i guess.” she stopped and looked at harry, who was staring at her, his brows lightly furrowed, meaning he was listening to every word.

“and therapy really helped getting me out of that mental space. it was difficult, uncomfortable, i had my fair share of setbacks, but during one session my therapist told me something that i hold close to my heart to this day, ever since then.” she smiled to herself, eyes focused on the cushion she was sat on.

“she told me: ‘you know, even the sun gets clouded sometimes.’ even the happiest people — or what seem to be the happiest of people — have their dark days. and that’s fine. you just need to get through them.”

harry thought that no metaphor could ever be as perfect to describe her as this one was.

he was still silent, waiting to see if she had anything else to add. but she misinterpreted his silence for something bad. 

“oh god, i’m sorry if this was too much for you, you could’ve told me to stop but since you didn’t i went on and i didn’t even check-”

he couldn’t stop himself from grabbing her waist and make her straddle his lap, arms tightening in a hug that could’ve crushed her bones, but he didn’t care, he just wanted to have her close. his face tucked in her neck, inhaling her perfume, and he hoped she could understand from this hug everything he wanted to say, but couldn’t find the right words to say out loud.  

he didn’t need to say anything, all she had to know was expressed by the way he was hugging her. his face rested in her neck, her hand went straight to his hair, playing with the curls at the nape of his neck. 

she doesn’t know for how long they stayed like that, but didn’t even care.

—

christmas was around the corner. on monday, she went to the post office, dropped off every present, went to work and had the full day she knew she was going to have, but she had just two more days of work before christmas eve, then she’d spend that beautiful following day with her friends. it wasn’t going to be like at home, but it was with another family she loved just as much. 

during these two days, she worked hard on harry’s present. she didn’t know if it was going to be as good as she wanted it to be, but she’d try her very best to make sure it was.

on christmas eve, she stayed home putting the finishing touches on the presents that she had to bring the following day at sarah’s, and checked on the food she had to prepare for their dinner. 

around 9pm, she sat down on the couch, looking at her decorated apartment.

the christmas tree she got was almost a carbon copy of the one her mum had at home: three meters tall, way too big for her living room; even the decorations were very similar. 

she was sad about not being able to go home that year, but she had to be back to work on the 27th and it wasn’t smart to make such a long trip for just one day, even if it was a special one. 

but there was something more that was making her sad, or well, worried: she hadn’t skipped christmas since those years. she wasn’t in that mental place anymore, she had been clean for years now, but you can never know what could trigger you and make you fall back in old habits. 

so she tried not to think about that, but of course she just couldn’t stop. she started feeling guilty for behaving the way she did, cutting everyone out of her life, lying to them and pretending she was alright. in her mind, she knows she wasn’t in a good mental state, but that didn’t take away any of the guilt she was feeling. 

her thoughts were interrupted by a knocking on the door. she thought that maybe it was the landlady coming by to wish a happy christmas — she was a lovely older lady who always gave her candy whenever she ran into her. 

but when she opened the door, she found someone a little bit younger than her 70-year-old landlady.

harry stood there with a bottle of red wine and a present in hand. 

“happy christmas eve. let me in?”

“and here i thought you were a caroller. you sure you don’t want to sing anything?”

“shut up and let me in, it’s freezing.” 

this was probably the first time harry came over unannounced. he always texted her first, or waited for her to text him for their movie nights, but since she told him about the traditions she had with her family back home, he knew he had to do something. 

it wasn’t hard to understand that this holiday season was hard for her, not only because she was far from her family, but because of what happened in the past when she was away from them.

harry could imagine the kind of thoughts that had been swimming in her head these last few days, and he couldn’t stand it. no one should have these kind of thoughts ever, especially not during the holidays. 

especially not her.

so, he decided to participate in one of the little traditions she told him about, and thought that maybe they could watch “the grinch” together and open their presents at midnight.

when he told her this, she had the prettiest smile on her face. she never smiled at him like this, and this time he was sure that it was for him. that made him smile just as wide.

they watched “the grinch” together and they both teared up at the part where he was picked on at school. 

harry was shocked when she told him that cindy lou was played by the same actress that played jenny humphrey in gossip girl.

“no fucking way that’s her! she looks so sweet here!” 

“people grow up, harry.” she laughed. “and hold on- you watched gossip girl? how have you never shared this with me?”

“didn’t think it was an interesting fact to share.”

“are you kidding me? it’s a very important piece of information! you can’t trust anyone these days.” she muttered ironically, but that didn’t stop harry from throwing a pillow at her. 

once the grinch was over, it was around 11:30, so they decided to make some hot chocolate and wait for midnight.

“alright, 11:59, one minute to go!”

“you know it’s christmas and not new year’s, do you?”

“yes, you ass, i do know. but i wanted to wish you merry christmas at exactly midnight.”

harry smiled at her, shaking his head lightly.

they looked at each other, until her screen showed 12:00am, making it officially christmas day.

“merry christmas, harry.” she said sweetly.

“merry christmas, love.” he answered back, looking at her fondly. 

“now, for the good part... presents! wait here, i have to get yours in my bedroom.”

“ooh, i like where this is going.” he said smirking, earning an eye roll from her.

“get your mind out of the gutter, styles. you little freak.” 

he shook his head, but he was getting a bit antsy. what if she didn’t like his present? what if he didn’t like her present and his poker face wasn’t good enough and he made her feel bad? he was sure she could’ve gifted him something straight out of the trash and he would’ve loved it, but you never know.

she came back into the living room, and he could see she was feeling the same way as him. she sat back down on the floor with him, near the tree, and had her presents in hand. 

wait, presents, plural. 

he was fucked, wasn’t he?

“they aren’t the greatest presents and i usually am great at gift giving, like insanely good. but i really did try my best and i hope i didn’t disappoint too much. go easy on me, please.” she said the last bit laughing, but he could feel the insecurity in her voice.

he wanted to let her know that she would never disappoint him, but no words were coming out of his mouth.

huh, so your smart mouth can talk shit all day but can’t pay her a compliment?

but it felt like she already knew.

“so, this one first.” it was in a tube, and he didn’t know what to think. so he was quick to open it, and he smiled widely when he saw what it was. 

“it’s a movie poster where you can scratch the movies you have seen. i bought the same one, i want to put it up the wall, so we can see those movies together and scratch them.” she said, looking down at her hands.

“i love this. this is so beautiful, thank you so much.” he said truthfully. it was such a sweet gesture, and of course she would think of such a thing.

“alright, then for the second present. i thought the first one wasn’t going to be enough-” he went to interrupt her but she wouldn’t let him. “no, you shush. i thought it didn’t convey how much i care about you, so i wanted to give you this.” 

she gave him the next gift, that resembled a book a lot. when he opened it, he smiled to himself: “the unbearable lightness of being”.

she told him a thousand times that this was her favourite book and that he just had to read it, because it changed her life. but when he opened the book and flipped through the pages, his breath hitched.

this was her own copy.

“i, uh. i annotated it for you. i know it’s a used copy, — and i’ve read it like 20 times i think, so it’s pretty used — but i felt like it was just right to use my own. it’s kind of like i’m giving a piece of me to you, and i wouldn’t want to give it to anyone else, to be honest.”

he heard what he said, but couldn't tear his eyes from the book in his hands.

inside the first page, there was a small inscription.

“thank you for being here even when it’s cloudy. merry christmas, H.”

he was staring at the words scribbled on the page, wondering how lucky he had to be to be there, with her.

“it’s okay, if you don’t like it, i can just-”

“please, stop with that. i love it, i’m just speechless, i don’t think a thank you is gonna cut it.” 

“a thank you is more than enough, harry. it’s nothing too special.” she shrugged. 

“it is to me. and i’ll hold onto this forever, i promise you.” he said looking deep into her eyes, making her soft.

“i’m glad you like it, then.” she smiled. “and you speechless? that can be my present, holy shit!” she tried to lighten the air a bit, given the seriousness of that moment.

“heyy! rude.” he scowled. “now, for your present.” 

he gave her a box, wrapped with a pretty bow and a note attached to it; she decided to read what he wrote before opening the present. 

she was so giddy, anxious and happy. she couldn’t believe she was actually here with harry, reliving a tradition she only had at home. and she couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that this was all harry’s idea, that he wanted to make her feel as if she was home. 

she was just so grateful for that mishap in the woods back in october, because it brought them here, and she wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

she opened the little envelope, and took out the note.

“with the hope you’ll find your eugene fitzherbert soon enough.”

she looked up at him quizzically, but he just tilted his chin forward, silently telling her to open the box and check for herself what his note was referring to.

when she finally opened it, she felt her jaw hitting the floor.

“it’s a first edition. you probably already know this, but rapunzel is a story by the grimm brothers. and i know there’s no eugene fitzherbert in this one, and i know you love him, but i couldn’t not buy this when-”

he couldn’t finish his sentence because she threw herself in his arms, tackling him to the ground with her on top.

“this is the best thing anyone has ever gotten me. you’re just the sweetest harry, i can’t believe you did this for me. i don’t deserve this, oh my god.” she whispered in his neck, her lips grazing the soft skin. he felt the small kiss she left right on his throat, and he hugged her tightly against him, as if he wanted for them to stick together. 

“you deserve this and more, love.”

they stayed on the ground for a little while, and when she was trying to pull away he just hugged her closer.

“just, uh. just one more minute, okay?” he said lowly.

“of course. whenever you want to let go.” 

he thought he never wanted to.

but when she tried to pull away again, he couldn’t stop her.

“now my presents look like shit, in comparison to yours.” she pouted, but it was soon replaced with a smile. “i can’t even think about how much you spent over it, my goodness. you’re nuts.”

harry just chuckled, and she started talking again, looking at him in a new way. 

“uh, can i do something? but you have to tell me if you’re not comfortable and if you want to stop right away, because i don’t want you to feel forced into anything and-”

harry quickly picked up where this was going, so he placed his hand on the back of her neck, sat up, went and shut her up for good. 

her lips felt as soft as they looked, as soft as they did when he’d dream about them. this was what heaven felt like, he was sure of it.

he lightly bit her lower lip, taking it between his front teeth, earning a small whimper from her. he was going to die, he was sure of it. but if this is the last thing he got to do, he’d pass away peacefully.

she had been waiting for this moment for so long, and now that it was happening it felt like she was walking on air. his lips felt like soft pillows against her own, and she could taste the hot chocolate on them and his tongue. she couldn’t get enough.

when he pulled her bottom lip with his front teeth — those bunny teeth she was lucky enough to see whenever he gifted her a toothy grin — she couldn’t help but whimper against him, melting even more when he sucked on it lightly, as if to make it better.

they kept kissing until they were out of breath, but it seemed like neither of them wanted to leave the other’s lips for even just a second, afraid that this perfect moment was going to disappear. 

but harry pulled away first, afraid of actually passing out if he kept going.

and god, he couldn’t believe the sight he had in front of him: her eyes still closed, as if she was wanted to bask in the moment for just a second longer.

exactly like he dreamt about.

when she fluttered her eyes open, he knew he was done for. that was it, the peak of his existence. how had she gotten him so wrapped around her little finger? he was absolutely whipped for her.

she looked into his eyes, those pools of green that had always drawn her in. eight months ago, they looked at her with something very close to disdain, but now? disdain was the furthest thing she could find in them.

and fuck, was she glad about it.

after they stared at each other for a while, she spoke up again. “i still feel like i need to pay you back somehow, that present was too much.”

“mmh, i think i have an idea.” he smirked, leaning in.

“oh really?” she said teasingly, leaning in as well.

“mmh mmh.”

and they kissed again. and again. and again. and a little more after that.

—

on christmas morning, she woke up snuggled in her comforter, with two arms wrapped around her midsection, keeping her close. she sighed with content.

could things get any better?

“‘morning, love.”

apparently they could. he felt his lips kiss her head, but she wanted more. she turned around to face him, and didn’t wait a second to smash her lips against his, hearing him hum against her lips.

“good morning, bub.” she smiled against his lips, leaving another quick kiss. “sorry, i didn’t even brush my teeth.” 

he shook his head, grinning at her. “don’t care, not even in the slightest. i’ve waited for way too long to do this, so please do whenever you want to.” to mark his words, he kissed her again.

“you did?” she looked up at him and he nodded. 

“waited a long while for you, darling. i don't mind having waited now, though.” 

“ah, you’re such a sap. no surprise you love romcoms.” she smacked his chest lightly, leaving her hand right above his heart.

“hey! don’t be rude now.” he scolded her with a smile on his lips.

“alright alright, you walmart version of ryan gosling.”

“oh, you’re going to regret this.”

—

harry had to go back to his place to get ready and pick up the gifts to bring to sarah’s. 

“can’t you come with me?” he pouted.

“i’m sorry, i have to shower, get dressed and stuff. i’ll see you in a little while, i promise.”

“you could just wear my stuff.”

that made her feel all gooey on the inside, but also made her chuckle. “don’t worry, i’ll steal all your hoodies in no time. i've already started, if you remember.” she smiled, leaving a small peck on his nose.

“good. they look better on you anyway.” he pecked her lips three times before kissing her for a little longer. 

“okay, now you have go or else we’re going to be late.” she said between kisses.

“mmh mmh, you’re right, should definitely go.” he said, but just went ahead and kissed her, before she pushed her hand against his chest.

“stop it, we really are going to be late. i’ll see you soon, i promise.” she smiled softly at him, lightly shoving him outside her door.

who thought harry could be such a softie? again, herself from 8 months ago would be laughing like a crazy person if she knew that harry was at her doorstep, pouting because he had to go home and couldn’t keep kissing her. 

a couple of hours later, she was dressed up and ready to go. she heard her phone ring, meaning she received a message. glancing at her phone, she couldn’t help the smile on her face.

“i’m on my way. you ready?”

“yes, i am, E.”

“don’t know if you thought this was another person you spent all day kissing, but my name starts with an H, love.” 

she didn’t bother telling him why she called him E, maybe he’d get it someday. 

—

here it is! it’s time to say goodbye to these two softies. this fic is probably the best thing i’ve ever written, and i’m incredibly proud of it. i hope you enjoyed it as well! thank you so much for your support, it’s been crazy. thank you!

tag list (for those tagged, do you want to be on the permanent tag list? let me know!):

@his-only-angel-1989 @sunshinemoonsposts @cherrysulewski @idgasb @feestyles @msolbesg @call1800coochie @a-strange-familiar @the-art-of-living-honestly @onlyangel-k @sushiirestaurant @annesauriol @longingtobewithu @jjharry @hes-club @fairyinpurple @harrysbigspoon

[jackrrabbit]

🤍 Haikyuu WIP excerpts

preview post for hq because recently i showed sara a list of my works in progress and she laughed at me and then made a dn joke like this is 2015 or something. we got:

🤍 communal property /// ushijima x f!reader x tendou 🤍 sunshower /// atsumu x f!reader x osamu 🤍 corporate ethics /// kuroo x f!reader

anyway these are all terrible first drafts and i'm not sorry. however i am very very into these pieces and if you're interested in seeing them finished, you should tell me fr fr

🤍 communal property /// Ushijima x f!Reader x Tendou

Summary: Tendou shares everything with Ushijima—his food, his dorm room, even the AVs he likes. Why not his girlfriend, too?

Tags/warnings: poly relationship in progress (only you and Tendou are dating at this point), mild suggestiveness ??, s*ze k*nk

Status: 10k words written (holy fuck lol) out of ~11k total? this bitch better get finished is2g

After the match, your voice is hoarse from screaming but you still manage to yell congratulations for your boyfriend when you meet him and Ushijima outside the locker room in the stadium. You’re pumped on the adrenaline of the game, so you don’t even protest like you usually would when Tendou picks you up in the middle of your hug and lifts you off the ground effortlessly. “How was I? Awesome, right? I told you we would beat them!”

“You did, you so did—“ Even though your throat hurts, you can’t help gushing about every rally, every soul-crushing block, every impossible spike. “—and then the guy on the left thought he was clear to shoot it but you just—“ You throw your arms in the air and mime hitting the ball down like a blocker. “Wha-bam!—and the look on his face! I thought he was going to punch you!”

Tendou laughs and lays a sloppy kiss on your cheek, just as thrilled as you are by the win. “You really liked it that much? I thought you weren’t into sports.”

“I loved it! You were so cool! I can’t believe I’m dating someone so cool!” You wrap your legs around his back and hug his face close to yours, reveling in the fact that this weirdo belongs to you wholly and entirely, that you get to have him to yourself (well, other than his roommate). “And I’m not into sports, I’m into you.”

Tendou smiles in a way that makes the sides of his eyes crinkle up and little red patches bloom over his cheeks, a look that says, I like you so much (Y/N), I like you I like you I like you, except he’s probably trying not to be mushy like that since Ushijima is standing off to the side.

You feel a little bad for ignoring him (no one likes being the third wheel, even if he never shows signs of caring) so when Tendou sets you down you turn to Ushijima. “And you! Holy shit, Tendou said you were good, but I didn’t know you were that good. The ball when you hit it was super loud—honestly, how are your hands okay? If I hit it that hard I’d probably break something.”

“My hands are fine…this is normal for me.”

But just because you’ve got them here in front of you and you’re still pumped from the exhilaration of the win, you can’t help grabbing Ushijima’s hand and flipping it palm-up to inspect. True to his word, there’s no redness, just the calluses he’s built up on his long fingers. “Wow.”

“You don’t need to worry about Wakatoshi,” Tendou tells you, grinning and then making a face. “He’s a monster, he can handle it.”

“No kidding. You’re both monsters.” You put the base of your palm up against Ushijima’s to gauge the size of his hand against yours, and without prompting Tendou grabs your other hand to press against his own. Tendou’s fingers are a bit longer, but Ushijima’s are…thicker, more solid. Your hands look like a little kid’s in comparison. “Can I be honest? Half the time I was thinking I actually feel bad for the other team. If I had to take on both of you at the same time, I’d probably cry.”

You’re (mostly) joking, but it’s still a complete shock when you see the side of Ushijima’s mouth curl up a tiny bit. You’ve known each other for months at this point, but you’ve never seen him smile until now. Half of you is wondering if this is some kind of optical illusion caused by the atmosphere and the dim light of the stadium cutting through the evening, but the other half of you enjoys it. You made Ushijima smile. You did that.

“Don’t sell yourself short, (Y/N).” Ushijima says, tipping his head to the side.

“Yeah!” Tendou chimes in, resting his chin on top of your head and folding his arms around your neck from his place behind you. “I’m sure you could take both of us. Right, Wakatoshi?”

So that’s probably a sign.

🤍 sunshower /// Atsumu x f!Reader x Osamu

Summary: [Kitsune AU] You find an old Ō-Inari shrine in the woods that may not be as abandoned as it looks.

Tags/warnings: Shinto religion, this preview is biased toward tsumu oops, yearning/soft vibes

Status: 3.9k words written out of 5–6k? total

Atsumu was the one who found you.

That’s how he likes to talk about it, that he found you, like you’d still be wandering around lost in the woods if it weren’t for him. Osamu thinks you would have found your way back home eventually but Atsumu likes it better this way, this framing that makes it seem like they saved you.

It’s hard for him to tell time linearly the way humans do but you mention once that you’ve known them for a year and that seems to fit. It’s spring now, almost barely tipping into summer, and it was spring when Atsumu found you. He remembers because of the way it was raining: light and tender, a summer rain early in the season, each little drop tapping off a leaf and then rolling into the forest bed to be eaten up by the grass and the soil.

Atsumu likes the rain, likes the sweet earthy smell it makes and the way the plants look so lush and green and alive, like they’d bleed if he sunk his teeth into them. He was out in the woods because of the rain ('Samu was in the shrine, as usual, attempting to set buckets under the millions of holes in the roof so the rainwater wouldn’t pool and rot through the wood underneath). But Atsumu was half asleep in a tree when he heard you crashing through the undergrowth, tripping over ferns and snapping every twig in your path (thought ya might be a bear, he tells you later, that’s how loud ya were) but he wouldn’t really have woken up if he hadn’t heard you singing.

(The odd thing is, you weren’t actually singing. You remember that day as vividly as they do: the warm, humid air making your skin feel sticky under your yellow raincoat; the tiny raindrops filtering through the canopy and kissing your cheeks; the ink feathering out on the damp xerox of the old map you found in your great-aunt’s attic so you could barely make out the “X” that was supposed to mark the location of the lost Inari shrine… You were cursing how stupid you’d been to go on a wild goose chase into the mountains with no cell service and no marked trail to look for a shrine that no one had seen in decades. You definitely weren’t singing.)

But Atsumu remembers it differently. No matter how many times you explain that you were just talking to yourself, when he replays the sound of your voice back then (reaching and lilting and falling, the way the birds talk to each other in the early morning, except the music of it was poured into syllables and words), it sounds like you’re singing. He wasn’t sure at first, hadn’t heard a voice that wasn’t Osamu’s in so many years that he gets tired counting them, but then he saw you push into view from between two bushes and he thought, a human!

A girl, too—it was hard to say at first because you were wearing that weird, slick jacket of yours, so bright yellow it was like an oversized flower blooming out of the grass, but then you tilted your head up to feel the rain on your face and the hood fell down and he knew. Not just a human, a girl! Atsumu wanted to yell for Osamu, make him come and confirm that there was a person wandering around not a mile from the shrine. A real person! Singing and smiling and wiping the rain off her cheeks (does that mean you like the rain, just like he does? did you come out to feel it too?) But he also wanted to surprise Osamu so he hid his tails and his ears and came down from the tree and asked if you had lost your way in the forest, since you were so far from any path…

When you think back on this yourself you’re amazed that you just went with him: a strange boy (man?) wearing a fox mask and traditional Shinto priest robes, which were somehow pristine white and red despite him having appeared from nowhere in the middle of a dense forest, who told you he had no idea what direction the village was but he could take you to the Inari shrine you’d been searching for…well. Maybe you were too surprised to be wary, or maybe you were just exhausted and lost. But you like to think you had a sense of it even then, the irrational belief that the boy in the woods was not just a boy in the woods.

Atsumu thinks you knew. Humans always understand, even when they try not to… He remembers, he took your hand that day in the forest and you saw that the claws on his fingers were too long to be human, and you said nothing because on some level you already felt it. Your skin was cool then, smooth and damp from the rain; he wanted to stop, run his hands up your arms, touch the places on your face where your mouth had been turned up at the corners and press his fingers into your cheeks.

🤍 corporate ethics /// Kuroo x f!Reader

Summary: [Office AU] The new junior marketing associate just happens to be Kuroo’s favorite camgirl, and he’s having trouble keeping his hands to himself.

Tags/Warnings: boss/employee, businessman!Kuroo as a reformed player, camgirl reader, this excerpt has a lil bit of 18+ content 👀

Status: 1.2k words written out of 4k? words total

Kuroo doesn’t watch porn.

It’s not, like, a moral principle or something. He has nothing against pornography. As far as he knows, it’s perfectly normal for single men. He just doesn’t like it…unless it’s you.

When he was in school it was easy. Being a teenager meant being so flooded with hormones that a warm breeze could get him up, and the adrenaline rush of winning a game was better than any big-titted porn actress faking moans into a shit-quality boom mic. Sure, he watched porn back then (what teenage boy didn’t?), but it was more out of curiosity than necessity. It was all kind of a mystery at that point, the way it can only be when you’re a clueless virgin and you and all your friends are too busy practicing for the next game to get girls.

Somehow Bokuto was the first one in their friend group to lose his virginity, and the memory of the dumbass self-consciously describing the experience has been lodged in Kuroo’s brain for the 10+ years since. “It was…I don’t know. She smelled good. You know how girls always smell good?” Bokuto’s hands twitched and his face was pink. “It’s just really…soft.”

Soft was right, Kuroo would reflect when he got laid for the first time a few months later. Soft, warm, wet. Sex was awkward at first, but before he knew it it was more natural than breathing.

It didn’t change much after high school, either. He didn’t get into volleyball for the groupies, but they didn’t hurt. There were girls when he played for his college team, more girls when he joined a business frat, so many girls he couldn’t keep track…they blurred together after a while. It didn’t take effort. You don’t need game when you’re 6’2 and you’re in the gym 40 hours a week, and you definitely don’t need porn.

So he never got into it. Now that he’s promoting volleyball instead of playing, things are more complicated. Kuroo’s never been the type who expects things to fall in his lap, but there are so many rules when it comes to dating in the real world. Good morning texts, anniversaries, flowers, parents. It’s exhausting. One time—seriously, just one time—Kuroo misses his girlfriend’s birthday to go watch a Jackals game, and the next time he sees her she throws her drink on him in public and keys his car. After that, Kuroo decides that until he’s ready to settle down there will be no more girlfriends. Which means no more reliable sex. Which means resorting to porn.

Which means you.

You, batting your eyelashes at the camera and biting the side of your lip. You, purring and mewing like a kitten. You, lying back on your pretty pink bedsheets in your pretty pink lingerie, sliding your hands between your legs. It takes Kuroo a full month to decide to pay for access to your website (Kenma’s unsolicited recommendation) but it takes less than five minutes for him to upgrade access to premium. You look like a wet dream—no, you look like the centerfold of every dirty magazine Kuroo managed to get his hands on when he was younger. Pristine and alluring and so deliciously out of reach.

And you make it so simple. No delicate emotional games with rules Kuroo never bothered to learn. No pretending to care how your day was. You untie the little bows on the side of your panties and lick your fingers and Kuroo just has to take his dick out and watch you. Getting off hasn’t been this easy for him since college. You’re a camgirl, you exist on his computer screen, and that’s how he likes it.

Which makes it a lot more awkward when Kuroo finds out that the only woman he’s gotten off to in the past…year, maybe?…somehow just got hired in JVA’s sports promotion department as his junior associate.

Your prim work blouse is buttoned up to the collar and your makeup is different, but he knows it’s you. You have to tell him your name twice because he’s too stunned to respond the first time, and even then he can’t summon up more of a response than a curt nod because his mouth tastes like dirt.

You smile a little awkwardly at his cool reception, and the hand you’d extended out to shake swings back down to your side. “Um, the guy at HR said he sent up my info yesterday…I’ll be working directly underneath you?”

Directly underneath me. Kuroo is taking a sip of his coffee when you say this. He doesn’t spit it out, but it’s close.

[bunnykawa]

what are you doing, step bro? (sakusa x f. reader)

summary: To your parents, Sakusa was the greatest son. To you, he was the best big brother you could’ve ever asked for, but you could only find that out with a little force.

a/n: i literally just started college so i won't have much time to write but i have some stories in my drafts that'll be posted in awhile lol. should i open requests for haikyuu drabbles since they're short but still entertaining?? idek i feel like no one is reading this rn LOL but if anyone is reading this, lmk ;)

(edit: I HAD TO REPOST THIS CS IT WASNT SHOWING UP IN TAGS so sorry if you already liked this post)

warnings: 18+, incest, mentions of drugging,  mentions of somnophilia, mentions of parental neglect, noncon/dubcon/rape, sakusa is a dirty pervert i just don’t know how else to tag this, degradation, slight manipulation

"(Y/N), this is your new big brother, Kiyoomi," your mother said, holding tightly onto your small shoulders as you stood in front of her.

"You can refer to him as your nii-san from now on." Locking eyes with you was an older boy with long black wavy hair, two moles on the right side of his forehead, and a white face mask on the lower half of his face which blocked his nose and mouth. How odd, you thought. You could tell he was disinterested with how his eyes were blank as he stared at you.

That was the first time meeting your step brother, Sakusa Kiyoomi.

Being four years younger than Sakusa, you two never really got along. Of course you had to respect each other, but there was nothing to really talk about other than when his volleyball games were or unfulfilling small talks. Sometimes he would make snide remarks, asking if you even showered when your hair was only slightly messy or if a smart word ever came out of your mouth when you stumbled over your words. Sometimes he was just mean to you in general to the point where you would cry. You always tried to ignore it, though. That was when you were younger. You couldn’t help that you weren’t that smart and he was your nii-san after all. Your parents would brush it off.

You celebrated his victories together, only because you had to. I mean, you were the younger sister of one of the nation's top three aces in high school volleyball. There was no way your parents wouldn't celebrate. He was their pride and joy.

Smart, athletic, incredibly attractive — everything you felt like you could never live up to.

Your own biological mom so obviously and painfully liked him more than you.

Before you even entered high school, Sakusa was old enough to move out and go to college where he continued to play volleyball. When he visited during the holidays, you still wouldn't have decent conversations with him. He would still insult you. It even made you cringe when you had to call him nii-san. Why address him as your older brother when he didn't even act like it?

But you dealt with it because you had to.

Fresh out of Itachiyama Academy, you're focused on studying for entrance exams for colleges in your area rather than what would happen if you ever had to see Sakusa again. But, you were expecting to see him very soon.

Gentle knocks are heard from outside your door and before you can respond, your mom is already opening it.

"(Y/N), Omi is coming today and he's gonna be here for a week. I have to go to the grocery store to buy food and I'm gonna run other errands so it's gonna take awhile," she says, leaning her head into your room. You respond multiple times with "okay" so she can leave your room sooner.

Textbooks and notebooks are strewn across your bed with you on your stomach, trying to cram as much information in your head as possible.

"That means I might not be here in time for when he comes, so you have to open the door and greet him," she adds.

"What about dad?" you ask with a grimace. The most you would do is say hello and scurry back into your room.

She rolls her eyes at you. "He's working late again. You know that, (Y/N)." With a sigh, you agree and she finally leaves your room after bidding you a "goodbye."

You can't remember the last time you saw Sakusa, but it was probably almost half a year ago. Ever since he left for college, your parents were even more distant towards you. They probably felt like they didn't need to worry about you because you weren't doing anything important.

When Sakusa came over, he barely acknowledged you and you were okay with that because it meant he wouldn't be bothering you.

But that didn't mean his blank stare wouldn't catch your attention whenever you came out of your room to eat or use the restroom. The atmosphere felt...very odd around him. You couldn't necessarily come up with a reason why.

Suddenly, you hear knocking on the front door. It had to be at least an hour or two since your mom left and the thought of who was waiting at the door made your stomach churn.

"Nii-san is here," you mutter to yourself as you got up to open the door. Right as you open the door, Sakusa was staring down at you with the same blankness in his eyes from before with his usual face mask. His hair was shorter than you remember.

Mindlessly, his eyes seem to scan your body before returning to your face, making you feel self-conscious. You were only wearing black spandex shorts and a loose tank top. Subconsciously, you rub your arm and step back to make space.

"(Y/N)," Sakusa acknowledges you in a deadpan voice. It's no surprise to you.

"Hi, onii-san. How are you?" You try so hard to be polite, but Sakusa seemed to have a naturally dominant energy that overwhelmed your senses, even if he also seemed to have the personality of a jar of mayonnaise. You step aside so he can come in. He wore gray sweatpants and a black windbreaker that was zipped up all the way. As soon as he makes it inside, he removes his face mask, stuffs it in his pocket, and starts unzipping his jacket.

"I'm good," he hums, "Where's mom?" He places the backpack he was carrying on the couch and takes a seat as you close the door.

"She's out doing errands and dad is working. Do you want some tea?"

"Yes, please. Make sure you wash your hands before you do. Thank you," he said. You walk into the kitchen, muttering "germaphobe" under your breath at his extra request. Unbeknownst to you, he watched you from his place on the couch as you walked around the kitchen, pulling the tea kettle out of one of the bottom cabinets and looking for cups. His gaze followed the outline of your ass in those tiny shorts that hugged your bottom tightly.

"What college are you planning on going to, (Y/N)?"

"I'm not sure yet, but I'm applying to the college you're going to and three others," you replied from your spot near the counter.

Sakusa actually perks up at your answer. "Oh, cool. You'll love it there if you get in. Only if, though. You're not the brightest."

You couldn't help but let your face fall in a frown at his seemingly small comment. Quickly, you compose yourself and brush off his remark. You got the water boiling in the tea kettle and reached high for the teacups that were sitting on the top cabinets. Your stepdad definitely put them up there.

A presence looms close behind you, which makes your whole body automatically freeze and tense up. A veiny, bulky arm reaches up easily to grab the teacups while another one snakes around you to pull your tank top down as it was exposing your stomach. You're not sure if you're imagining it, but you definitely feel something stiff brushing up against your back.

"You need to be careful. Don't wanna hurt yourself, do you?" Sakusa commented, leaning forward so his mouth was right next to your ear. A blush found its way onto your cheeks from feeling him so close to you.

He usually hated being so close to people. What was so different today?

"R-right," you stuttered, "Thank you, nii-san."

Confrontation wasn't a strong trait of yours.

You guess that moment was when it started getting really weird between you two. You still had small talks from whenever he would actually see you come out of your room, but you wanted to avoid him as much as you could. However, that was hard when Sakusa insisted that you drank tea together every night and, of course, your parents insisted, too.

Your nii-san wants to spend more time with you, they would say excitedly. Better late than never!

Maybe if he was showing the slightest bit of interest in you, your parents would finally care about you. So, with much hesitation, you started drinking tea with your step brother every night. Sakusa even made the tea himself so his poor little sister wouldn't tire herself out with carrying that heavy teapot.

You're still not sure if you're imagining things, but the tea tasted different from how you made it. And you swear that the tea didn't make you so sleepy after drinking it until he started making it.

"Come here," Sakusa would say with a smirk, "Onii-san will take you to bed."

You would pass out before you even made it to bed, but every morning you woke up with sticky thighs, only blaming it on sweating while you were sleeping.

Until one day, you didn't drink all the tea that he made you. You still fell asleep, though. Your brain was hazy enough to make you lose consciousness as he helped you up from your seat in the kitchen.

Sakusa laid next to you on your bed. You were placed on your side so he could slide under the sheets right behind you to press his hardened length against your ass. This was his favorite part of the night. He spent a few minutes playing with your cunt to make it slick enough for him to let his cock break through your walls.

You barely stirred awake. Didn't even move an inch as he caressed every part of your body, from your soft nipples to the sensitive nub between your thighs.

He pushed the elastic of his sweatpants down to his thighs quickly. His cock hit your ass before settling between your folds. A satisfied moan leaves his lips when he feels your wetness coating the top part of his shaft as he rubbed it against you. He hooked his arm around one of your legs so that you were spread open enough for him to fuck you and rub your clit at the same time with his other hand.

He wanted that sweet nectar completely coating his dick. He remembers the way you tasted and how you came on his tongue the night before, despite being blacked out from the little pills he would dissolve in your drinks. You tasted so clean and smelled so fresh. It was impossible for your nii-san to control himself around you.

And when did your ass look so good? God...Sakusa couldn't believe he never noticed how cute and well-shaped you were. You weren't that little girl he met when you were both kids. You were pushing adulthood now. Still pathetic looking, still too shy, still small around him, but fuck, he definitely would have pushed you over the counter the first day he came over and fucked you until you were crying and gagging.

He continued rubbing circles onto your clit and letting his cock soak up your juices. Gently, he positions the tip at your entrances and pushes in slowly.

"There you go," he whispers in your ear, "I know it's a little big. Don't worry."

He manages to fill you up all the way, making him groan. Your walls were tight around him. He thrusts in and out of you carefully, salvaging the feeling of your slick interior.

But you didn't drink all the tea, which means that you could wake up earlier than he expected.

Sakusa didn't expect you to wake up now.

You stirred slightly as you regained consciousness. Although your eyelids were heavy, you tried to force them open only to be met with darkness.

"Mmm," you croaked, rubbing your eyes. The odd feeling of being filled up suddenly made you wake up more. "W-what's going on?"

"Fuck," Sakusa muttered from behind you. You felt a hard chest pressed against your back and...a hand on your pussy. No, something inside your pussy. And that voice was so familiar.

You quickly whip your head around when the realization dawns on you. What the fuck is happening? While your eyes adjust to the dark room, you see two familiar eyes staring straight back at you. He stopped grinding his hips against you for a moment as if time stopped.

"...Nii-san?" you hesitated. His breathing was heavy and he stayed silent.

"Nii-san, what are you doing?" you asked in a panicked voice. You quickly tried to get up from your position, only to be held down by Sakusa’s muscular arms. His hand wrapped itself over your lips to prevent you from screaming.

“Be a good girl and stay quiet, (Y/N),” he whispered. A muffled scream tries to escape your lips. He continued to fuck you slowly, leaving a burning feeling in your walls. The same sore feeling that you would sometimes wake up to within the past few days.

For a moment, you pry his fingers off of your mouth. "I don't understand...Why are you...?" You yelped in surprise, horror, and pleasure as he delivered a sharp thrust from behind you. The smack of his hips against your bare ass made you cringe and feel so disgusted with yourself. Nii-san is actually inside me.

"My poor little sister," he chucked darkly. He suddenly wraps his arm around your knee tighter and forces your legs wide open, your knee almost touching your chest. Instead of putting his hand over your mouth to shut you up, he kneads your breast. His hands were so large.

"You think you can walk around the house looking like a little slut in those tiny shorts?" He stretches you open with his hard cock with slow, yet hard, thrusts. It left your mouth agape, but no sounds left your throat except for small squeaks that you couldn't hold back. "You stupid bitch. Just as dumb as I could remember. Fuck, you don't know how much I wanted to bend you over and fill you up with my cum like the stupid, desperate slut you are."

He was satisfied as you were barely fighting him. All you did was desperately search for something to hold onto and bite your lip because you were so scared. His words were painful. "Look at you. A waste of fucking space, only good as a fuck hole. Didn't even realize she was getting drugged and getting fucked every night because she's so fucking stupid."

Weak. That was all your brain was telling you, mocking you, as Sakusa didn't stop moving against you and insulting you. This wasn't the first time. It just so happened that this time you were able to wake up.

"I-I..." you stuttered, "I'll...I'll tell mom and dad." The sheets were gripped tightly between your fingers. "I'll tell them- mmmm...what nii-san has been doing to me..."

"If you tell mom and dad, they wouldn't even care," Sakusa said in a patronizing tone. The way his hand was caressing you made you wanna cry.

“They would!”

"Mom and dad don't even treat you like a daughter, (Y/N). When was the last time they told you they loved you?" Even if his question was rhetorical, your mind went completely blank. You can't recall a moment where they ever told you they loved you.

"B-but, this isn't right! You're not supposed to be doing this," you argued. It was a surprise that your mind wasn't completely clouded by how big his cock was and how his thrusts felt almost hateful.

"You think they would choose your side? You'd be ruining your own life. Maybe you'd ruin mine. And it'd be. All. Your. Fault." With each syllable, his movements became sharper. "You don't wanna betray your nii-san by saying something, do you?"

"You love your nii-san, right?"

You do. You love him so much, even if you tried to avoid him and he never said a single good thing to you in your whole damn life.

Because you have to love him.

You stopped gripping on the sheets to the point where your knuckles were turning ghostly white to brush away the tears rolling down your cheeks. Your body shook, from both crying because of Sakusa's painful words and how hard he was fucking you. The pleasure building up in your core was overwhelming you, making that intense feeling of having to pee forced out of you.

Hearing your sniffles and small cries, Sakusa pulls you even tighter against him, but doesn't stop his relentless thrusting. It turned him on even more. He pushes your hand to brush away your tears for you, like good big brothers should.

"It's okay, (Y/N). We both know mom and dad don't love you."

A loud cry erupted from your chest. Maybe if your parents cared about you, they'd be running to your room to save you the second you started crying. But, no. Sakusa was basking in the fact that you were hurting on the inside. After years of negligent silence, you were finally letting it all out.

"But nii-san loves you," he said with a smile.

Although his words seemed to stun your entire being, you manage to choke out a "What?" Like it was the first time someone ever told you that they love you.

His torturous thrusts almost distracted you. Fuck, why did it feel so good to have your step brother fucking you on your side like this?

"I love you." He sweetly grabs your face so you can turn your head to look at him. There was a pounding in your ears coming straight from your chest. A warm feeling spreads throughout your stomach.

"You...you love me, nii-san?"

"Of course I do." He was actually smiling at you, "If I didn't, would I be inside you right now?"

His face didn't seem so blank anymore. Sakusa never ever smiled at you. Hell, he never really smiled in general. Someone actually loved you. Holy shit. And he was even pounding away at your insides like you were a fuck doll.

Is that why he's so mean? Was he just trying to hide his feelings for you this whole time? You could die laughing right now. His cock felt so damn good rearranging your guts against your will yet you were struggling to accept it.

Your cheeks naturally puffed up in happiness as you smiled so brightly at him. The flip switched in your brain so easily. Without another word, Sakusa kissed you passionately, because he knew you would let him continue to ravage your body. Your hips began to buck from the pressure building up in your lower half and you starting pushing your hips towards him, welcoming his length inside you. It felt like you needed more of him. More of his love.

Love me.

"Nii-san," you gasped against his lips. His movements never faltered, which you figured was from his amazing athletic ability and stamina.

"Be a good little sister and cum on my cock," he coaxed. He could tell you were so close to cumming from how tightly your precious cunt was hugging his length and how you were squirming against him. You were both slick with sweat. As you started squirming more violently against him, Sakusa tightened his grip on you.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whined desperately, “Nii-san, I’m gonna cum!” You grabbed his arms and pushed your fingernails into his skin, making him hiss from the sudden pain. With a firm grip over your mouth, he muffles your screams. Satisfaction settled in your stomach as you exploded all over his cock. Your sweet juices trailed down your thighs onto the bedsheets.

As much as Sakusa wanted to, he couldn’t fill up your insides and see your hole dripping with his cum just yet. He quickly pulls out of you and lets his seed shoot onto the bare skin of your ass. The shock of your orgasm left your thighs trembling, your skin wet, and your eyes drooping.

“You’re the best little sister.”

You would’ve replied, but you could barely form any words as you lost consciousness again. When you woke up the next morning, you were fully dressed and cleaned up, with no stickiness between your thighs like how you used to wake up.

Sakusa actually cleaned you up this time. You felt your heart melt and butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

Everything seemed to go back to normal between you two, with the same small talks and not really seeing each other often, but he always had a knowing smirk on his face whenever he saw you.

Whenever his eyes would trail up your body to meet yours, you could feel a warmth in your stomach spread all throughout your body which forced you to look away quickly. Whenever he insulted you, you would feel your thighs press together. Whenever you caught yourself admiring his features when he replaced his face mask for a new one, you smiled softly to yourself.

When it was time for him to leave, you couldn’t help but let a few tears shed. He was all set to go, with his backpack on and his mask covering his face.

“Hey, don’t cry, (Y/N),” he cooed, wiping your tears away, “You know I won’t be gone forever.”

You sniffled, “I know. I just hate being here alone.” Well, not necessarily alone. You just hated being ignored and neglected just because you weren’t your brother.

“If you manage to get into my college, you can move in with me. How does that sound?” You instantly perk up and dry your tears with your shirt.

"Really?!” you asked with excitement. You imagine all the things you could do with your nii-san without your parents in the picture. You could go out together, hold hands, share kisses, just about anything. He could even fuck you whenever he wants.

These thoughts about your own step brother would've made you feel sick before.

But that was before you knew Sakusa loved you. Now, you couldn't help but ask your mom when the next time your nii-san would be coming to visit. While you were waiting for his next visit, you studied hard.

College would be so much fun with your nii-san with you!

Part 2