#i miss hearing her voice guys ..... im yearning
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daily13 · 29 days ago
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heyybaejjk · 10 months ago
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SAU, LA'U TAMA AULELEI ! - PT. 3
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pairings: teen!miguel o'hara x fem samoan oc
summary: Sione's gone, David's gone, and even Kiuga is gone. But Miguel isn't, and neither is Manaia. Just great.
warnings/notes: YALL IM SO SORRY FOR THE LATE ONE ❤️
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Soft fingers played with his hair, the other hand trailing up and down the nape of his neck. "How bad do you want to kiss me, Migs?" A smooth, yet raspy voice spoke.
Miguel could only look down at Manaia with tired eyes, yearning to feel more of her. He was tired of holding back, tired of his feelings being ignored for his ego to show. But now. Now, he has a chance.
"So bad, you don't even know."
She pushed him on the chest lightly enough for him to sit down, sitting on his lap as she cups his face.
"Prove it," she comments with a teasing voice, one of her fingers twirling around a curl.
Leading his hands to rest on her waist, only for him to press them on her back causing her to move forward. Right there at that moment, he felt bliss as her soft lips met his.
Nothing could ever ruin this moment he's dreamt about.
*buzz buzz*
mahi_sniffer: @M.Ohara_99 MY BROTHER FROM ANOTHER (HOT ASS) MOTHER I MISS YOU
mahi_sniffer: pls respond i miss you
mahi_sniffer: miguelllllllllll
bololicker: too busy on fufuhour, he doesnt wanna talk to us 😣
aluaigioukae: @M.Ohara_99 your missus was asking where you've been when we were walking home
"For fuck's sake," Miguel could never take a peaceful nap with these idiots, he should have known better. Annoyed at the ruined dream that he wished escalated quicker, he put his phone on silent.
Remembering the last text sent on his phone, he sighed heavily. He knows his friends are mutual with Manaia, mainly because their parents were friends with hers from way back when.
Despite this fact, he never found himself trying to engage with her. At all.
During classes when Sione would ask if she wanted to sit with them, Miguel would get up and sit across the room, opposite of her. Or during a break, if he was playing tackle footy and she was watching while sitting down on the bench with one of his main friends, he stops playing in case he fumbles the ball and embarrasses himself. What was worse was the walk back home after school.
If they weren't going to the mall for a feed with him or going to his house to hangout, they were most definitely walking home with her as they all lived a street next to each other. The walk together would be deadly awkward to the point where Sione would walk Manaia home himself, leaving Miguel and the two other boys.
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"Ow! Fuck bro, okay, okay, I'm sorry."
Miguel can hear the stupid whines Sione projects across the room. He lifts his head up, seeing Manaia swat the Tongan boy with a rolled up textbook, "I swear, bro mum's soul, I won't say it again."
"Good," she says while smiling innocently, unrolling her book and returning to write her notes. "Cunt," Sione whispered, causing her to glare at him.
"You should just go kiss him, I swear."
"You should just do your work, stupid."
'Who was it exactly that they were talking about?' Miguel thought. It for sure couldn't be that Seth guy from weeks ago, he was her ex. Was it himself? Was it the guy sitting next to him?
"Sione, I swear if you don't shut your mouth-"
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mahi_sniffer: guys not be a mood wrecker but i had to go home early, i know yall are gonna miss me but its okay 💔💔
mahi_sniffer: i forgot to turn off the iron this morning and my mum saw it lying on my bed, it was face down as well 😞
mahi_sniffer: pray for me guys
aluaigioukae: no one really fucking cares
mahi_sniffer: you didn't even come school today you have NO say
bololicker: I had to leave early too, my mum wants me to clean the house before we go airport and pick up my cousins
mahi_sniffer: aww no one really asked 🥹
bololicker: die
aluaigioukae: did naia go school?
mahi_sniffer: yeah
aluaigioukae: and miguel too?
mahi_sniffer: yur
bololicker: and ur not there?
mahi_sniffer: yuh
bololicker: ...
mahi_sniffer: oh
mahi_sniffer: OH OH
M.Ohara_2099: You left me alone, you idiot
"Hey Miguel, have you seen Sione? He wasn't in English last period."
It was already too late for his text to register as he looks up from his phone, seeing Manaia standing in front of him smiling shyly. She wore a high bun, along with a pink and yellow sei that matched her cute, yellow shoes. She had gotten a lip piercing recently, and it drove Miguel crazy.
"Uh, no, I'm sorry. He texted me saying he had to go home early."
He watches as she rolls her eyes while chuckling, "That egg probably left the iron on, I keep reminding him every time we're on the phone."
This causes Miguel to raise an eyebrow, not noticing himself smiling down at her as she talks to herself.
"I was hoping he'd walk me home, but it's fine," He watches as she began to walk away from him with a saddened expression. "I'll see you on Monday, Miguel." He hears her say with a soft voice.
His friends weren't there to encourage him into talking to her like they normally would. His mother was at work so he had no excuse to rush home, and not walk up to Manaia to strike up a conversation. He didn't see her talk to her ugly ass ex at all today.
This is his one chance, and he could not afford to miss it.
"I can walk you home, Manaia." Miguel calls out, turning around to meet with her back. She stopped walking, turning around to face him.
"O-only if you're okay with that, of course," He stutters, "And I know Sione doesn't like you walking alone with other schools nearby finishing as well, he knows you get uncomfortable walking around others you don't know much about." He attempts to make a poor excuse which she smiles softly at.
Miguel feels his face grow hot at the sight of her looking him up and down, "That's very cute of you to do, Miguel. I'd be happy if you walked with me."
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It had been a long, silent walk, but it was calming. Well, to Manaia at least. Miguel had both his hands in his pockets, not wanting to accidentally touch the girl beside him if his hands were to flare out.
"You know, I was bummed out when I couldn't see you after the whole Multicultural event. I wanted to see you, Migs."
Hearing this, Miguel fidgets nervously, clenching his sweaty palms to relax his racing heart. If only she knew how much of an effect she had on him just by saying a few words. But there was this thing; she was always genuine. He knew that she was telling no lie, and it made him crazy.
Based on how other girls approached him, it wasn't the best way to get into his closed-off heart. He remembers how bold people can be, but it just made him uncomfortable knowing they'd just try to get into his pants. Some people were deaf to the word no a lot of the time.
"Uh- yeah, had to.. get home, emergency," he tells Manaia, stuttering uncontrollably and lying through his teeth.
Miguel watches as her nod, "I kind of wished to see you there. But I hope everything at home is okay," she looks up at him, catching him off guard at the sudden eye contact. His face heats up as she smiles at him warmly.
"So what are you listening to?" He asks, using an excuse to avoid her longing gaze.
In his peripheral vision, he sees her hand offering an ear bud. "You're close enough with Sione to not get it right," He looks down at Manaia, he waits for her to continue, her moist lips tempting his curiosity badly. Just how exactly would they feel against his own?
"If you guess right, you'll get a surprise when you drop me to my house." The crescendo of her sultry voice chimes in, her eyes looking into his as she gave him a cute smile, waving the earbud in his face. As he puts the bud in, he feels the side of her arm touch his. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
"Sorry, I just don't want to move far away and accidentally pull the bud out of your ear. I shared with Sione one time, and trust me when I tell you how much it hurts," laughing at the stupid memory with her best friend. Fondly smiling at her thoughtful thinking, he inches closer as well, arms brushing against each other.
He paid no mind to the contact.
That's what Manaia was thinking.
The volume raises slightly, she gave a toothy grin at his animated-like thinking pose, one hand on his chin as he pretend to thinks as he hears her small laugh.
"It's definitely Hey Girl by Fiji,' He answers, looking at Manaia expectantly, heartstrings being pulled as he sees her face glow in endearment.
"You even said the artist, that's very cute of you, Miguel," Manaia's quick to compliment him as if it was nothing, sending him into an internal coma. Trying his best not to let his mouth form into a shy smile, he mumbles a quick thank you, to which she giggle at once again.
The two of them continued their walk, they had to come to a stop as she saw the walkway leading to the small stairs of her front door. Looking at the empty driveway, she let out a sigh of relief. Both of the teenagers walk up to the door. Despite this, Miguel finds himself in relief as she doesn't say her goodbyes yet.
"I'm still sorry for the long walk," she says with an upset tone, an apologetic smile on her face. "It's fine, really. Plus, going to the gym isn't going to help me by itself if I'm not walking at least an hour a day," He winks playfully, his crossed arms that were up against his chest brought into a trance. Muscular arms seeped through the material of his shirt.
"You're an egg sometimes, just like Sione," she stiffled a laugh, jokingly pushing his shoulder, a bit harder than expected as she leaned forward, her sei falling out.
Miguel bends down and picks it up, softly pulling her closer by the arm, placing the fake flower back in position. All the while she looked up at him, flattering her eyelashes up at him trying to ignore the close feeling of his body against hers. The promximity sent a rush of heat to her face. "Don't want to ruin that pretty hair of yours," he smiles down at her.
His words replaying and looping around in her head, she couldn't resist asking the taller boy in front of her.
"You think I'm pretty?"
Miguel looks at Manaia, face heated from the straightforward question, he coughs, "Maybe.." She tilts her head teasingly, glossy lips form into a cute smile, as well as her eyes.. God, those eyes. Miguel couldn't help but think back to the dream from last night. The way her lips moulded perfectly against his, giving him a teasing look right after. The same look she was giving him now.
He shakes his head lightly before chuckling, "Now, where was that surprise you were talking about early, huh?"
"Come closer," her hand reaches up to hold his face, now standing on her tippy toes to get closer.
This is it. Miguel thinks to himself happily.
"Who are you?" a small voice pops out.
The both of them look at the door. There stood a little boy, hair ruffled as well as his strained looking eyes.
"Junior, what have I told you about when I'm talking to people?" She tells him off with a motherly tone as if telling off her own child, her hand long gone from his heated cheek. Turning her focus back to Miguel, "I, uh, as much as I want to invite you inside, my mum will be home soon, Miguel," And that was true.
"That's fine," he says to her, looking her in the eyes.
She turns her head down to her brother, nodding her head for him to get inside as the both of them talked, and that he does.
"I'll see you on Monday," Manaia quickly cup his cheek, kissing just beside his mouth, missing his cheek completely as he moved his head. He shakes his head while blushing, watching Manaia swiftly wave and run into her house giggling.
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bololicker: bro its been 3 hours, wheres sione
aluaigioukae: got his phone taken off him 😿😿
bololicker: AWUI SHAME
aluaigioukae: nah but wheres that chromebook he stole from skl? 👀
bololicker: AS IF HE WOULD USE THE CHROMEBOOK TO TEXT US
bololicker: he made fun of me when i was texting my missus on it
aluaigioukae: 💀💀💀
aluaigioukae: anyway..
alugioukae: has miguel texted you? havent heard from him for a few hours
M.Ohara_99: I just got home, I'm here.
bololicker: MY BRETHREN.
aluaigioukae: are you okay? doesnt take you that long to get home before
M.Ohara_99: I'm fine, thank you for asking.
M.Ohara_99 is typing
Miguel stops typing, should he tell them he walked Manaia home? No. They'll make fun of him, for sure. But if he tells them, they can give him advice on how to get closer to her as well. They are close to her, more than he is. Sadly, he thinks.
Ah, fuck it.
M.Ohara_99: I walked Manaia home
2 users are typing
aluaigioukae: AINGGGGGGGGGGGGG
bololicker: SLURP SLURP OUAAAAAAAAAA
aluaigioukae: DID YOU.. YKKKKK???
"I fucking knew it," He says to himself.
M.Ohara_99: David, Kiuga, please
M.Ohara_99: I just walked her home, that was all
alugioukae: wait nah we need to hear how youre saying it 👀 you might be smiling and kicking your dick around n all
bololicker: awui
aluaigioukae has started a voice chat!
2 others are on voice chat! - join | decline
Miguel groans into his pillow, "Fucks sake."
"David, why do we have to call? I was perfect with texting you," he says immediately after pressing the green join option. He glares at the little screen, showing David grinning at him, Kiuga's screen remained off while his microphone stayed on.
At least Kiuga was normal about it, Miguel thinks.
"HOW WAS IT, MATE?" Kiuga screams through his microphone.
Nevermind.
Turning on his camera, Miguel props his phone against his headboard and lays on his pillow. "I told you, nothing else. I just walked her home..." He trails off, looking away from the camera.
"So you both didn't kiss?" David asks, raising his brow line.
Miguel coughs and chokes on air, looking up at the ceiling.
"No. We didn't kiss."
"Liar, liar, my dick is on fucking fire, Miguel. Naia told us she tried to go for the cheek but your freaky ass was trying to get some tongue in there," Kiuga yells through his microphone dramatically, the pitch of his voice heightening through every line.
Miguel groans again into his pillow, "So you both knew but asked anyway? I'm embarrassed right now," ruffling his hair aggressively.
David breaks into laughter, "She told us straight away. Okay but don't tell her I told you," He says in a bit of a serious tone, a playful aura still lingering, "But she felt embarrassed when you moved your face, she was rambling on about it on the phone before you texted. She was even more embarrassed when her brother saw you at the front door."
"He was a cute kid, but he ruined the moment," Miguel says bluntly.
"Did the kid have a gap tooth or?" Kiuga says causing David to laugh. Miguel thinks to himself before nodding. "He did."
"I fucking love that sibling, her other siblings are so ass."
"Have I met any of them?" Miguel curiously asks.
"Uh," David trails off, scratching the back off his neck, "do you remember that guy who started a brawl at the mall last year? In the food court?"
"The guy who stole my fucking burrito from Mad Mex to throw at someone's head!? The burrito I paid for that was $20?!" Miguel yells through his mic, louder than needed as his mother opens his door, peeking her head in.
"You okay?" she asks softly.
He snaps his head toward the door, nodding aggressively, "Uh huh."
His mother leaves, giving an awkward smile.
"Yeah that was him. And the other two girls that were behind him are her sisters. They're all in their twenties, but they don't live with Manaia and Junior" Kiuga informs Miguel, whose mouth is wide open as well as his eyes.
"Fuck's sake."
"Yeah well, better not fuck around with her or else her junkie ass siblings will come for you," David jokes.
Miguel sighs, taking off his jumper, revealing his tone arms and shoulders. His riled up self felt heat rush through his body. It was bad enough the AC in his room was broken.
"Well, I would never do that. All I know is that I like her, but I don't know if she likes me back," the heart broken boy says, a slight pout settling on his lips.
"Be for real, Migs," Kiuga teases. The nickname only sounded good when it came out of her mouth. Only hers. "And don't give me that 'Oh, she's just being nice' type bullshit. I give David a little kiss on the cheek when I drop him off home-"
"Wow, okay bye." David says, leaving the call.
Miguel rolls his eyes as Kiuga laughs out loud. "All I see is denial. Try talking to her more. I'll give you her username before I go sleep, I'll see you Monday." The boy finally says before leaving the call.
Miguel lets the silence in his room embrace him. A few minutes go by and all he can do is think about her. And maybe the dream. He remembers how she looked down at him in the dream, and sat in his lap. With just one touch, she already had him on his knees.
As for today, all she did was look up at him, and he felt his knees buck and his breath hitch. Fuck.
*buzz buzz*
aluaigioukae: @manaiafepuleai 😉😉 heres her @
aluaigioukae: make sure theres no cookie calls ;))
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scarletanpan · 4 months ago
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Ill shut up about my gender soon I swear but like. The thing where I would get physically uncomfortable as a kid when I would hear any recording of my voice bc it sounded way deeper to me. Was that some kind of dysphoria ? I chalked it up to not understanding how sound processing works but idk.. it made me Real upset. And my voice still gives me dysphoria now bc like have u heard Sade?? I wanna be her.. I blame her I was obsessed w soldier of love as a kid
Bc idk my childhoods spotty but i remember many weird thoughts and feelings. Wasn’t just the voice thing, also believed that further proof of being a boy and no one telling me was just. Having 'boy' interests?? Even tho I shared half of them w my sisters. And idk strange yearning every time we went to the store bc I wanted to go to the boy clothes section so bad. Didnt know why. Assumed I felt like I was missing out bc idk video game tshirts but it was def more than that..
Like in 5th grade my ‘im secretly a boy’ theory died bc I met my homeroom teacher and went ‘oh wait ladies can have deep voices too. nevermind’ (forgot sade existed ig??) and never thought abt it again. Also puberty happened. But ik middle school i was still on something bc yea I made friends w nerdy guys bc same interests but. I was always staring at them, kind of wished i could be them?? Like esp my friend who was my neighbor, i was desperate for approval so i’d bring over my aunts laptop and he’d play gta the whole time while i sat there and just put in the cheat codes i memorized what a weird fucking time. And he had a cool brother and father, I went over there a lot, i def felt envious of idk. Everything abt it?? I can’t even put it into words
Not mentioning the shit where I pretended to be a boy in yt comments as a kid and def felt a little happy when ppl would he/him me. But only online, if anyone thought I was a boy in person I got mad and hurt like huh?? What was goin on in my child brain
And I picked Ethan in heartgold. Like fucking pack it up the evidence is starting to get overwhelming atp.. Red was my yt icon too and just a fav, still is love him, but yea kept picking guys up until u could change clothes in pkmn. The way it adds up im… idk lots to think abt. I still like being nb bc why limit urself to one gender when u can have them all but. Being a guy might be my favorite idk its fun
And I have to talk to my doctor in 4 hrs and this time I Won’t get to scared to ask abt T I swear
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spookfished · 10 months ago
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nov 2023 media roundup
hello again :3 welcome to the world from 2024!! im doing backlogs of media reviews lol. well i was really busy. and then i was super busy playing umineko!! looking back at this month, it seems like i didnt read a whole lot this month, but then i forgot that ruzhui is literally 300 chapters long. so.. a couple of these i read uh quite a few months ago by now so the review might be a bit stale. however i had like 80% of this written for several weeks so theres only a couple! this will be posted on my neocities at some point
books:
ruzhui by please dont laugh: f/f. after a terrible breakup, college yun an is happy to leave her life behind for some TIME TRAVEL! but while disguising herself as a man to avoid discrimination, she gets looped into a matrilocal marriage with businesswoman lin buxian?! intended as a fluffy palate cleanser after pdl's previous work a clear and muddy loss of love, i think it still kinda ended up getting mired in politics two thirds of the way in, when a lot of us were here for the moments with miss malewife yun an and her powerhouse wife? on the other hand, its hard to stretch out fluff for an entire 300 chapters without contriviances. i also really enjoyed how it managed to balance like. idk. 'returning to the simple emotions of the past' with 'holy shit guys the past actually sucked ass lmfao'. its a pretty relaxing read, so id recommend checking it out if youre into f/f!
the devil comes courting by courtney milan: f/m romance. can romance bloom while trying to create the first telegraphic encoding for chinese...? sooo cute im a huge fan of courtney milan as always. surprisingly goes into some pretty heavy topics including like. forced assimilation via child stealing?????? i thought it was well handled though the ldr stuff and the way amelia grows as a person was soo nice
the marquis who mustnt by courtney milan: f/m romance. the son of a conman returns home for one final trick. meanwhile, naomi just wants to take her medic class. the two become engaged on false premises and of course, catch feelings. once again extremely cute im very charmed. also liked the pottery details :3 i think in every fake engagement the whole 'pretending to themselves they dont have feelings' is a little ridiculous so i liked that they just like. acknowledged it at the outset. i think its honestly more compelling to be like 'yes my feelings are sincere and true however X still outweighs '. loove a guy shackled by duty
wandering souls by cecile pin: follows anh and her two siblings, refugees of the vietnam war. ok honestly i dont remember a lot about this book :( sorry but i did like it! its a really fast read and made me really sad so id recommend. (DISCLAIMER: AMERICAN) i also feel like i dont read a lot of non-american diaspora books so thats pretty interesting as well. nice prose also :]
detransition baby by torrey peters: a trans woman who yearns for motherhood, her detransitioned ex-boyfriend, and his pregnant partner struggle to find a way to live--together, or apart? ok sorry this is another review written in january so its kinda weighted more negatively. i had a LOT of thoughts about this in november but i forgot most of them. this novel is a deep look into a very specific kind of queer subculture--a subculture which is both very white and very annoying. sorry. the characters feel like a vivid, true-to-life depiction of the poeple i try to avoid at my little liberal arts college. however, it ALSO feels like the kind of really good gossip that you love to hear secondhand. also, the author shoehorns in discussions of race in ways that are really jarring and also, kinda bad? i honestly really loved the inner voices of all the characters which is why it sucked when i got to suddenly read a copy-pasted twitter thread about intersectional oppression instead. (especially coming from the mouth of a cis wasian woman..?) it feels all the more tokenistic since we immediately go back to the inner struggles of ames and reese instead. ugh. however, it sparked some really interesting conversations with me and my friends. i also got to learn more about ah i guess transfem detransition? as opposed to transmasc detransition. they are very different! um but i guess id recommend?
comics/manga:
surviving romance: action/horror webtoon?? the woman living in the body of a romance novel character is determined to get her picture-perfect happy ever after-- at all costs. everything goes according to plan until the day zombies attack the school. chaerin is forced to bond with the faceless extras of her story, and find out what is rotting at the core of *love every day*. very solid writing!! i like how the author gradually introduces characters, and how the tension ratchets up as more people to care for becomes more people that can be lost. definitely goes into some orv-lite type themes, which i appreciated. i guess my only complaint is that despite the solid execution it didnt really ~wow~ me in any way... still worth checking out though :3
run away with me girl by battan: f/f romanceish? two high school lovers meet again after midori decided that their relationship was just a childish whim. but even though midori has decided shes straight (and is married with a kid on the way!), maki still has feelings for her. dude soooo cute the art style is not personally my thing but i felt like all of the characters were really grounded and the introspective parts were really interesting. some beautifully atmospheric parts! would recommend :3 witch hat atelier kitchen (reread) by shirahama kamome: a spinoff of witch hat atelier, where the two teachers qifrey and olrugio make food together after hours! gorgeous art as always, and some cute recipes too! i reread this since an official english translation came out lol. monotone blue: short furry m/m about apathetic, aloof cat hachi, who meets aoi--a shy transfer student who happens to be the only lizard in the whole school. pretty lighthearted for the most part, but also heavily implied a sexual assault scene?? or at least the vibes?? in a way that treated it far too lightly and left a bad taste in my mouth. possibly worth reading for the art, but idk :/ definitely falls into the romance trap of having a love interest go "ill save you from these bad guys!" for like a cheap plot device and then not really going into it
movies/tv:
parasite: class-focused comedic thriller? the kim family finds a way out of choking poverty by working for the extremely affluent park family. its almost too easy--until it isnt. man everyone says parasite is so good. AND IT IS!!! i cant believe i took so long to see this movie i got to see it with some friends over thanksgiving break and it was so good :] had me stressed for my fucking life sitting at the edge of my seat. has a lot of meat to bite into analysis-wise but is also just so crushing in many ways.. the ending stuck in my head for a long time. rewatching it this january was honestly more stressful in some ways haha
revolutionary girl utena: allegory-heavy commentary on shoujo and princess narratives and the nature of heroism and-- f/f. utena is a girl who aspires to be just like the prince of her dreams. she is somehow wrapped up into an engagement with anthy himemiya, who calls herself "the rose bride." ahhhh i still havent watched the last two episodes actually. people always say "utena is a fantastic show but PLEASE mind every single trigger warning" and its true! utena tackles some really heavy subjects in a way that is delicate, understated, and vicious. i watched a bunch of these episodes late at night in the computer lab and they honestly left me breathless. has so many layers of symbolism to dig through that it can honestly be overwhelming, but also very compelling just on the surface! watch utena. also watch this amv https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=THN3gYKYojs
the wonderful story of henry sugar: a netflix adaptation of one of roald dahls stories (within a story). it was cute :3 not a lot of sticking power lol but i think this is the first wes anderson production ive ever watched. very visually distinctive!
video games:
lethal company: cooperative horror game about trying to collect garbage in a dystopically capitalist world ft. proximity chat! dude this game is blowing tf up i tried playing it with neil but 1. we are huge pussies 2. its really only feasible with 3+ people
music:
TILT by nanoray: anime breakcore is one of my truly guilty pleasures. i see the anime girl on the cover and cringe a little bit HOWEVER nanoray is a really good artist. the intro is so liquid... i think the album as a whole really just sweeps you up into a groove. some of my favorite tracks are into and DOGWALK2000 THE LONELIEST TIME by carly rae jepsen: i was so mean to carly rae jepsen in middle school. im so sorry miss jepsen i was just so tired of hearing call me maybe everywhere. im now a changed man. just a really well constructed pop album 👍admittedly not as iconic to me as emotion, but joshua tree and talking to yourself are my favorites atm SAYONARA WILD HEARTS OST: ive never played sayonara wildheart, but i think its a rhythm game about girls fighting each other on motorcycles? with bisexual lighting and tarot cards? but anyways this is a synth-y lush pop album thats super fun! it feels like it tells a story (probably bc it does) and it always makes me want to listen all the way through :3 my favorites are sayonara wild heart and their clair de lune remix
anyways if you read to the end, thanks as always! its really interesting to try and condense my thoughts about something into one paragraph.. sometimes its easier than others huh! im almost done with the december one so please look forward to that 👍
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syomi · 3 years ago
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So after season 3 I felt a bit bad for Owen and he became one of my favs so some hc where he gets in a relationship with you after that, sure he was a little rude to you and made you cry just one time but you still loved him so much and after he gets in with you his feelings for Shelly may disappear a bit tysm <3
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Untitled- Owen Knight [archived]
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your fingers trace the ripples of muscles on his back. memorizing each dip and line, shadowing over his lean frame. your boyfriend sleeps- unaware of your touches. he hums in satisfaction as your middle finger presses on a spot.
you can feel the tension under the epidermis of his lightly bumped skin. gently you left the comfort of your bed to get a rub for times like these. you swoop a dollop of rub before you meticulously lather the area, motioning your hand from north to south poles of the spot. your eyes flicker to him, checking for any hiss or a playful scowl.
as the cooling rub soaks into his skin, you had a playful thought that pranced into that mischievous mind of yours. your face inches away from the spot woth your lips pinched into an O, blowing wind onto the rubbed area to enhance the cooling effects. a smile creeped onto your face when he twitches.
a smile of accomplishment sits on your face like a trophy in its case. his back flexes before a grumble erupted between the volcano of pillows your boyfriend loves to shove his face in," this is why i get up before you."
his voice is somewhat rough but soft as his hands searches for his phone. you handed his phone from the counter. he sighs loudly as he checks his notifications from late in the night.
you can remember the times when you wished for your mornings to be peaceful like this. you remember how sad you were when you heard owen was absent and rumours stirred in the school about his whereabouts.
"i heard he went to korea."
"yeah, he hasn't been in school since last week. shelly has also transferred."
"transferred? oh right, she's probably in korea with her grandfather or something."
"im not suprised they both went to korea for high school. those two were always together. at this point, they should just date."
those rumours made your heart ache from the overwhelming notion that you missed your chance or, you never had one. owen was tunnel focused on shelly and anyone who approaches her. they were close and it's no doubt about their friendship but, you were jealous of her having his attention.
you spoke to the blonde back into high-school in a class without shelly and he was your partner. he wasn't the talking type and was a dickhead because he ignored you for texting shelly. then one day, he actually spoke to you without an attitude. you got closer to him and you two became more than classmates but frequent acquaintances before he left.
you longed for another chance and was down about your missed opportunity but when the news spread about his return, you couldn't miss it. it was rocky at first, mistakes were made and arguments constantly happened. he couldn't see how much you loved him til' you avert your attention to another man.
owen wasn't one was words but he had a lot to say when he stormed to the guy's apartment and demanded for you to hear him out. you were tried of giving chances and signs that were billboard sized with led lights shining on the layer of sliver armour of hurt from yearning over shelly since primary school days.
with improvements and his ego aside, he worked his way into your heart again. being the knight you wished for in secondary school. his upper body slip out from the covers with his signature chain dangling from his neck caught your attention.
his messy hair, crusty eyes with some dried drool at the corner from his lips. you laugh before patting his bed head,"breakfast?"
he nods,"get dressed. we are eating out this time."
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everythingharrypotterblog · 4 years ago
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charmed [5]: ‘cycle’ (remus lupin x reader)
SMUT. professor! remus x professor!y/n. can be read as a one-shot, or as part 5 of the charmed series :) pls go show part 4 some love, and the rest of the chapters if u liked this! <3
brief summary: full moon approaching= horny as fuck remus. he can’t keep his eyes/hands off y/n, and after a whole day of being needy between classes, they ... ;) dom!remus, oral fem!receiving, fingering, size kink, ye
nsfw gifs for inspo:   x      x
a/n: i got rejected from my top choice university program today so if im gonna be unhappy, might as well make u guys happy and release parts 5 and 7
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series summary: set in the prisoner of azkaban, including its major plot points. remus and y/n get hired by dumbledore last minute to teach at hogwarts, defense against the dark arts and charms respectively. not wanting the students to know they are married, they navigate the challenging year through hidden glances, hand holds underneath the table and loving moments in their offices. even with all their efforts to conceal their relationship, their chemistry does not go unnoticed by the student population of hogwarts, who grow fond of the pair as they offer them some of the best classes they’ve had in a while. their relationship as newlyweds is strengthened as teaching the next generation of wizards unlocks a sea of memories of their love story. for the second time in his life, remus holds hogwarts responsible for some of his happiest memories. he’s given the chance to create them with the love of his life, y/n, who has taught and continues to teach him that every part of him is lovable, remaining forever under her charm.
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5. 
Remus’ life was lived in cycles, various phases of the moon commandeering partially how he felt. 
His sex drive was always pretty high; how could he not feel desire- when he had Y/N around him in his life. They had a great sex life, and Remus was definitely one to get ‘love boners’, where he would see Y/N do something not remotely suggestive but would get the desire to fuck out of sheer adoration..
When the full moon came close, however… it was on a whole other level. His body carried tension and almost an incurable itch on the days preceding his transformation. His senses flared like a wolf’s, like hearing, touch and vision. It was his sense of smell, however, that enhanced the most. For about 2-5 days leading to the full moon, his smell became much sharper. If Y/N had recently showered, her fresh scent would overwhelm his nostrils, or if she got sweaty too. The second she got aroused, Remus would be able to pick it up, and the urge to bury his face in between her legs would wash over him.
So, he 300% got way hornier during this period of time. Paired up with his senses on overdrive, all he could think about during those few days was sex with Y/N, the tiniest things she did would get him instantly hard. He’d be turned on all the time.
As the month of September came to a close, both Y/N could definitely sense her husband’s even-higher-than-normal yearning. Remus’ persona in public never revealed how much of a beast he could be in the bedroom, always calm, respectful, prudent. He treated Y/N with the upmost care, and once they got to Hogwarts, with the upmost professionalism. That quickly faltered in the last couple of days.
The second students were out of her last class, he had her pushed up against the wall, the door of the classroom safely locked. Y/N even had to cancel one Charms practice session, because Remus wasn’t able to keep his hands off her: pulling her close to him and rubbing her back while he buried his nose in the perfume of her hair. When they graded or read together in the evenings, he would bend her over the desk, then take her again in the shower that night. Every morning, Y/N would wake up in the best way possible, feeling Remus’ tight hold behind her and his already hard cock rutting up against the flesh of her butt.
This morning, however, the couple wasn’t able to squeeze in a nice wake-up shag. They had overslept, and Y/N who started at 9am while Remus at 10, had to to get to class. She hurried off, getting dressed and down for a quick breakfast, leaving Remus waking up alone, humping the sheets slightly.
His frustrations lasted all day, and definitely were not aided when he saw that Y/N was wearing his favourite pair of pants of hers at lunchtime. While the way they looked at each other always somewhat hinted at their romance, Remus’ gaze was especially obvious, like he was mentally undressing her everywhere they went.
He was presently in between classes, sitting at a table in the staff room and trailing his wand over the lines of a student’s essay he was reading. He lifted his head when he heard the door creak open, and Y/N walked in happily, carrying a stack of papers in her hands. His thread was almost thrown back as he caught a whiff of her, just pure her, mixed with a hint of… arousal? She was wet, Remus thought lewdly.
Spotting Remus, Y/N gave him a big smile, then turned towards a little desk that had some of her stuff on it. Remus gave her a cheeky wink before his eyes followed her, unabashedly fixed on how those pants fit her so nicely. Y/N bent down to store the papers into her bag, and Remus quickly had to look away, forcing his gaze on the window before he would get hard.
“Hi, my love.” He smiled gently as she approached him, turning his chair and pulling her onto his lap.
“Rem!” Y/N whispered, jerking her head towards Professor Sprout.
She was the only other teacher there, but to Remus’ greatest delight, she seemed to have snoozed off in her armchair.
“She’s asleep.” Remus whispered back, hands running everywhere on Y/N’s body as she settled herself comfortably in his lap. “Besides, I missed you.”
“Aw, pumpkin-“ Y/N giggled, accepting Remus’ kiss as he pressed his lips on hers. “I, missed, you, too” She murmured in between kisses.
Remus’ hands were getting antsy, as one went to go squeeze Y/N’s breasts and the other caressed over her butt, smoothing over the thin fabric of her dress pants. The kiss deepened as they both began breathing heavier.
“Don’t,” Y/N breathed in, breaking apart from Remus’ soft face. “Don’t you have class in like-“ She glanced at the clock. “5 minutes?!”
Remus peered over her head and groaned, shaking his tousled head. “And you do too darling, right?”
“Yeah, it’s my last one of the day.” Y/N frowned.
Remus’ gaze softened, nuzzling Y/N’s nose with the tip of his own, in a cute little Eskimo kiss- type action.
“I really love these pants, you know, I’m wondering if you wore these on purpose” He grinned, the hand on her butt petting the material softly.
“Maybe, I did….” Y/N smiled back, their faces centimeters away from each other’s.
Remus, ears full of Y/N’s voice, nose full of Y/N’s natural homey scent, didn’t register the door opening again and they both turned with a jolt, when they heard Professor McGonagall clear her throat.
Y/N jumped out of Remus’ lap, Remus smoothing his hands that were all over her body, over his robes.
“Hi, Professor McGonagall- I was just- we were just getting ready for our next l-lesson.” Y/N stammered, face growing hot in embarrassment.
“Yes, class, here- I’ll walk you to your class, darling.” Remus said, bowing his head and following Y/N out of the staff room.
“Mhmm.” Professor McGonagall hummed, peering at the two through her thin rectangle glasses. She didn’t bother reminding them they could call her ‘Minerva’, but as they shuffled out the door, her thin lips curled up in amusement. “Oh, Pomona, I’m sure you are very lucky to be dead asleep right now.” She whispered, to the Herbology teacher whose eyes were sealed shut.
In the hallway, Y/N and Remus burst out laughing once they got a safe distance away.
“I am never going to emotionally recover from that.” Remus choked in between gasps for breath.
“Please, I’m never going to look her in the eye ever again.” Y/N howled, wiping a tear with her wrist. “I mean, at least we were just sitting… and not actually doing.. anything.”
They walked along a couple stairways, their body language having adjusted to the busy Castle. 
“Thanks for walking me, you didn’t have to.” Y/N said, once they reached the Charms classroom. She stood back to the door, hands behind her on the doorknob.
Remus simply smiled courteously, eyes drifting down her. Then, quickly, he peered around them and into the classroom. Seeing it was empty, he reached behind Y/N, turned the doorknob and swirled her inside, pressing her up against the door.
“Oh, Rem-“ Y/N squeaked in surprise, but her voice faded into a soft moan as Remus kissed her, her arms going up to wrap around his neck.
“Sorry, my love, I just can’t get enough of you.” Remus chuckled when they finally pulled apart.
“Hmm.” Y/N licked her lips. Feeling Remus casing her in against the door like this, his big build towering over her, made her knees all weak. “Okay, you know the best part about these pants?” She inquired.
“Hmm? Tell me, sweetheart.” Remus mused, eyelids growing heavy as he stared into her face.
She rose on her tippy toes to meet the height of Remus’ ears, “The material is so thin-”
She spun around, facing the door and pressed her backside against Remus’ front, feeling him through his trousers.
Gasping as Remus’ large hands went up to squeeze both her breasts, further pushing her against the door as he pressed himself against her smaller body, she said, “-I have to wear a thong.”
Remus’ hands on her froze, his eyes growing dark. A low growl was ebbing up his throat but before he could respond, Y/N snaked out of his hold.
“Okay, bye honey- have a good class!” Y/N chirped, grinning widely as she opened the door to let a group of students in.
Remus composed himself in a fraction of a second, a hand raking through his hazel locks in attempt to comb them over.
“Hi, Professor Lupin!” Some students said, happy to see him, to which he answered with a polite and kind “Hello, hello!”, and “Hello, Dean!”.
Once Y/N’s class was over, she hurried up to her living quarters. After taking a hot shower, she climbed onto the bed, in nothing but a thong and one of Remus’ big sleeping shirts. She lied down comfortably, fingers toying with the collar as she waited for her husband. He had one other class after hers and should be finished soon.
Accurately enough, Remus’ figure appeared in the fireplace a few minutes later. His footsteps approached the bedroom and as he entered, his belt was already clinking as he was unfastening it with one hand.
“Oh, baby.” He hummed appreciatively as he took in the sight of Y/N, splayed across their bed, thighs balmy and exposed. “Is that my shirt?”
Y/N nodded, appreciating how Remus’ locks of hair had fallen on his forehead, as if he was constantly running his fingers through them- which he did, in attempt to concentrate when he was giving his last lessons of the day.
Gripping the hem, Y/N lifted the shirt off, exposing her naked chest. Remus made a guttural sound as he lunged forward, going to squeeze, lick and suck over her breasts. His hands wandered south, grazing the wet spot on the cotton stripe that covered Y/N’s mound.
“And whose pussy is this, hmm?” Remus snarled slightly, canines shining as his lips curled into an eager smirk.
Y/N licked her lips as she decided not to answer, her eyes had a glint to them when she stared back challengingly at her husband.
Remus raised an eyebrow, but kept an unfazed demeanour. He stepped back from the bed, taking a stand at the edge of it.
“Okay, baby girl, I see how you’re being. Turn around for me.”
Y/N looked up at him excitedly before slowly turning on the bed, onto her stomach.
Remus let out a small appreciative growl at the sight of Y/N’s ass covered only by a thin thong, right in front of him ready for him to ravage.
“Should’ve started with an easier question, kitten- who does this ass belong to?” Remus simpered.
He bent forward to squeeze both cheeks in his large hands, then went on to graze his teeth softly against the flesh of her ass. He could smell her arousal fully now, the scent of her wetness entering his nostrils and clouding his vision.
When Y/N merely arched her lower back to stick our her bum more prominently, wiggling it, Remus cursed. He roughly palmed the flesh before he lifted his hand and delivered a loud swat to it.
Y/N gripped the sheets in her hands as she yelped out of pleasure.
“You like that, don’t you, you wanted a good spanking from daddy, huh?” Remus hummed, rubbing over the spot soothingly. 
“Yes.” Y/N breathed out shakily. “Please.”
Remus kneaded the flesh in his hands and reveled in the way it would bounce after he spanked it a few more times.
“Oh darling,” he cooed, bending down to leave a slow trail of kisses up Y/N’s back. “Your little bum looks so cute marked up in pink by my hands.”
The skin had pinked, and a considerable area too, considering how large Remus’ hands were.
“Remus, I’m- I’m so wet for you.” Y/N cried, lifting her lower body weight onto her knees so Remus could see her pussy in the air. Glistening and dripping in arousal.
The sight sent adrenaline down Remus’ groin, his cock now painfully hard and straining against his trousers. He could in a flash, shed his lower layers and pound into Y/N’s cunt as his urges wished him to, but he had to get a taste first.
“Really?” He said as he kneeled down on the side of the bed, now eye-level with Y/N’s core. He peeled back her thong, throwing it further on the bed.
“Yes, oh God, please.”
Remus peered over Y/N’s legs to see her face, scrunched up in anticipation. His hands trailed over the side of her thighs, sending visible shivers down her spine. 
“Now, will you be a good girl and tell me… who this pretty ass and pussy belong to?” He said in a low purr, voice husky.
Y/N’s pussy clenched as she felt his face so close to where she needed him to be, his hands cementing themselves around her legs.
“Yours, Remmy, I’m all yours, now please-“ she begged, tears prickling at her eyes because of how much she ached for his touch.
Remus’ hands softly grazed down her back and pressed harshly once they got to the lower part where the curve of her ass began, and pulled her cunt straight into his face.
“Merlin, you smell so fucking sweet.” He swooned, inhaling deeply before quite literally diving into her cunt, his warm tongue stretching to lick against her clit.
Y/N’s eyes rolled back, her head pressing harder into the pillow. “Fuck…” She choked out. Her hips gyrated against Remus’ face, but his firm hold locked her in place as he devoured her.
They both moaned, Remus’ tongue running up her slit a couple times to lap up all the slickness and fully taste it. He gave her clit a quick kiss before sucking on it, taking it in between his lips. 
“Fuck, r-right there.” Y/N breathed out, finally feeling an ounce of her desire fulfilled. 
Remus licked sloppily at her clit, drawing wet circles with his tongue as his entire face was engulfed in her, her wetness dripping and coating his chin and nose. He sighed contently, closing his eyes as he ate her out, his own cock plumping at the feeling of her hips and legs trembling.
It was like meditation, the wolf inside him finally somewhat being appeased. He lapped at her cunt like it was the last thing he’d ever do, tongue running through the soft folds that were sopping and slick from the mix of her arousal and his spit.
“Oh, Rem, oh-“ Y/N moaned, face scrunched in pleasure. The coil in her abdomen wound tighter, she was getting closer and she pushed her hips back against Remus’ mouth. He groaned into her cunt, his hands squeezing her fleshy hips harder, desperately stuffing his face into her. He loved it. 
He maintained his rhythm, focusing on suckling and flicking his tongue on her clit until she came with a cry, hips shaking out of his hold. He flattened his tongue to run it up her labia, and ended by planting a tender kiss on her sensitive clit before pulling away, slightly more sated than before.
“Delicious.” Remus panted, standing up and watching Y/N languidly turn over onto her back once again. He wiped his mouth and the tip of his nose clean with the back of his hand, Y/N watching with her face hot.
Y/N scooted to sit at the edge of the bed, ogling him. He towered over her as he stayed standing, looking down at her through heavy hungry eyelids, covered by his brown hair that was getting slightly messier.
“Wanna taste you.” Y/N smiled, reaching behind Remus’ kneecaps to bring him closer.
Remus chuckled darkly, his long arm needing to barely reach to stroke Y/N’s jaw.
“You look so cute from up here, dove, makes me want to play with you and see you cum, all over again.” He said, voice low.
Y/N bit her lip, not breaking eye contact with her husband.
“So gorgeous.” He groaned as Y/N took his thumb between her lips, suckling the pad of the finger. “You have no idea how much I’ve been thinking.. of what I want to do to you, how much I want to take that body of yours.”
“Then take me.” Y/N exhaled, mouth letting go of his thumb and smiling devilishly.
Remus’ eyes, if possible, turned darker in desire and he bent down, kissing Y/N passionately on the lips as his hands travelled down her naked torso. 
“Hmm, you’re so small, kitten,” Remus hummed, eyes following his hand that went to cup in between her legs. “Look how small your little pussy is in my hand.”
His fingers curled to feel how wet it was, Y/N spreading her thighs apart for him to access easier. He used his middle and ring finger to lather up some of her slickness, then dragged them up to her clit and started soft circles on it. Y/N whimpered, legs closing from how sensitive her bud was from her previous orgasm.
“Now, now pet.” Remus tutted, pulling away.
He licked the tips of his fingers clean, then shrugged off his woolly cardigan, hanging it on the back of a nearby chair. The full moon approaching always got his body temperature hotter than usual, so he skipped wearing a cloak today, and was left in his white dress shirt and tie. He slowly rolled up his sleeves, exposing his forearms. Y/N couldn’t keep her eyes off his hands as he did so. Long, mature fingers with metal rings adorning the base of each.
“Keep your legs nice and spread f’me, alright, as I stuff you with my fingers.”
Bending forward again, he leaned one arm on the bed beside Y/N as his other hand found her clit again. The thick pads of his fingers played with her clit, rubbing the spot as Y/N bit her lip, body firing up for another orgasm.
“So cute, button.” He mused, nuzzling the top of Y/N’s head. “Look at that, your clit feels so little under my fingers, don’t you think? And your cunt, ah-“
He dipped a finger inside her, sliding right in and quickly added another one. Slowly petting the soft spongy walls of Y/N’s pussy, Y/N mewled, rutting her hips for more.
“So tight, so full just of my fingers. Tell me darling, do you like my fingers?”
“Mhhm.” Y/N nodded as Remus sped up. “Love your fingers, your hands, they’re so b-big.” She choked out, head hanging back as he fingered her.
“You like that? You fucking love how I can get you off with just m’fingers, yeah? Lord, this pussy’s so tight how will my cock even fit hmm?” Remus crooned, watching Y/N adoringly as he was knuckles deep inside her, his rings feeling cold upon her entrance.
Y/N opened her eyes, meeting Remus’ soft, scar-decorated face and turned her head to kiss him. Remus suckled on her spit-slicked lips, maintaining his fingers and bent his hand for the bone of his palm to press against her clit. Y/N gasped into the kiss, lips gaped apart as she whimpered into Remus’ mouth. Remus smiled, loving how flustered she was as she struggled to kiss him back, soaking in all her little cries and noises she made. 
His fingers inside her were going so fast, relentlessly hitting her g-spot over and over that his hard palm was grinding against her clit incessantly. Faster than the first time, she came, squeezing onto his forearm.
Fingers riding out her high, they slowed and pulled out, drenched in her wetness. Y/N collapsed onto her back, chest heaving.
“Oh, baby you are so beautiful.” Remus simpered, climbing on the bed and leaning over her to kiss her everywhere; her shoulders, neck, cheeks. “You think you got another one in you, bunny? Think you can let Moony bury his cock inside you?”
“Yes, give it to me please.” Y/N grinned widely, licking her lips and pulled Remus down by his tie, locking lips with him once more. “Need you inside me.”
“Oh, puppy. I am going to ruin you.” Remus said, this time in such a low murmur that had he not been an inch close to Y/N’s face, her ears wouldn’t have registered the tone.
Y/N sat up, helping her husband rid himself of his clothes. His bare chest exposed a few thin scars, which Y/N quickly smoothed her hands and lips over, routinely giving love to them, as she knew it was the part Remus couldn’t stand of his body.
Remus freed his hard-on, which was blushed an angry shade of dark pink. The bulbous head had been leaking of precum for a while now, and he exhaled a couple ragged breaths when he stroked himself, hand twisting around his tip. Y/N had leaned over to their bedside table to open a condom, and she replaced his hand with hers, pumping his long member before sliding it on. Remus already felt himself throb, and he knew that soon he’d be even more as Y/N’s pussy felt 100 times better than her hand.
“How do you want me?” Y/N breathed, backing up to the head of the bed as Remus went on his knees.
This was more of a rhetorical question, really, as it has been like this for years, that at every moon cycle end, their favourite was for Remus to take Y/N from behind. Y/N turned onto her elbows and knees, bending forward to prop her ass up.
“That’s it, good girl.” Remus licked his lips, lining himself up and pushed his cock slowly into Y/N’s warmth. 
He let out a loud hiss, face contorted in pleasure as he sank fully into her, his long, hard member stretching Y/N out to the fullest, filling her to the brim. “Merlin.” He said through gritted teeth, eyes dropping to where he disappeared into Y/N’s behind. “You always manage to stay so tight for me, darling- fuck, your pussy’s just squeezing m’cock so right, isn’t it?”
Y/N merely moaned, head dropping forward as she balanced her upper weight on her elbows, overwhelmed by feeling every single vein of Remus’ cock sliding in and out of her slowly. She clenched hard around him, causing his hips to tremor as Remus’ senses, including touch, were amplified tenfold.
He ceased momentarily, his cock just resting heavy inside Y/N’s cunt, his head deep at her g-spot. Y/N mewled, arching her back and twerked her hips, fucking herself back onto his cock. Remus growled at the sight, spanked her once, then his hands dived to grab the curve of her waist as he snapped, hips pounding into her now mercilessly.
“Oh God, fuck!” Y/N cried out with her head thrown back, as her elbows gave out from underneath her and her face sank forward into a heap of pillows. Her ass still up in the air, flesh slightly pink from Remus’ spanks delivered to it- it was a wonder how he didn’t cum from the sight of that alone as he fucked her from behind.
Remus kept up his quick rhythm, hips thrusting into her ruthlessly. They were both close, and Remus fucked into Y/N without an ounce or self-restraint left. He grunted loudly as she fell forward and her inner walls clenching down onto his member. His cock slipped in and out of her deliciously, as she had gotten so wet for him, sinful sounds echoing the room.
He bent forward, chest pressing against her back, their skin sweaty. 
“‘S that feel good, darling?” Remus said, lips ghosting over Y/N’s ear. She shuddered, his breath sending shivers up her neck as she felt him so close. His voice wasn’t his usual chesty, tenor honey-like. His words were uttered in a guttural one, his voice deeper, lower, sounding from the back of his throat. “You’re taking me so well- your pussy feels like heaven, sweetheart.”
Y/N’s ears registered the praise as music, living for it. He adjusted his hips slightly to accommodate the new angle, thrusting to make sure he was hitting all the spots in Y/N he knew she liked.
“Mphhhm, please baby,” Y/N moaned, voice slightly muffled into the pillow. She turned her head to the side to rest her cheek on it instead. “Please Remus, oh-“ her voice whimpered, a little more clearly now.
Remus’ large hands had been gripping onto the flesh of Y/N’s hips roughly, tightly. He moved one up to her breasts, grabbing it and massaging it. His breath was hot on her back. He was nearing his orgasm too, his breathing loud and shaggy. Heaving grunts echoed off the walls of the rooms, and Y/N arched her back to feel his chest rise up and down against it.
“Good girl, good fucking girl- taking my cock so well. Shit.”
Remus let out a growl as he felt his cock be swallowed up in her cunt, her ribbed walls enveloping it so nicely as he ploughed into her. 
“You’re close aren’t you, dove?” He murmured into her neck with the same low voice, placing wet kisses onto it. Her hair was out of the way onto the other side, and he tasted the slight stickiness of how sweaty their night’s activities had gotten her. 
“Yes, yes, ye-es” Y/N chanted in a strangled voice, her words getting split at her throat from Remus’ vigorous pounding.
“Can tell from how tightly you’re squeezing me- shit, not going to last long either inside you like this. C’mon baby, c’mon. Cum for me.”
It was all too much. Y/N shaked as she felt Remus pump into her a few more crucial times. He felt so thick in her walls, his girth filling her up like no other. Moaning, her hips grinded back into Remus as she started to cum. She felt his warm hand reach down her belly and down to between her thighs and with the added pressure from the circles he rubbed on her clit, she came with a shudder. Her body shook as her breath caught in her throat, a string of profanities leaving her lips. Y/N’s sounds of pleasure filled Remus’ ears, driving him further into ecstasy.
“Good girl.” Remus purred, hips jerking forward frantically. 
“Remus, fill me up-“ Y/N moaned, knowing Remus loved hearing his name fall off her tongue like that. She propped herself back onto her elbow, reaching one hand behind her to hold the back of Remus’ neck. 
Remus pressed the side of his face into Y/N’s neck, her hand keeping him close to her. He growled into her ear, the low sound vibrating from his throat enough to make Y/N’s eyes roll back. Driving his cock into her, desperately chasing his high, he rutted his cock into her walls. His entire body strained as all his muscles worked to relieve himself, needily fucking out his animalistic urges. He came with a gasp, his hips jerked harshly as he shot ropes and ropes of cum into the condom. 
Panting, he hunched forward as his cock kept twitching. 
His whole muscular body trembled as he squeezed his eyes shut in the pleasure of his long-needed release. His hand was grasped onto Y/N’s chest and she loved the feeling, tilting her hips forward to match the movements of Remus’ orgasm.
Wheezing slightly, Remus finally pulled out of her slowly, Y/N whimpering slightly as her pussy clenched around nothing. He threw the used condom and collapsed onto his back, chest still heaving. Y/N followed suit beside him, onto her stomach, body limp. The afterwaves of her orgasm still sent pleasure through her body and she knew she’d feel too sore to even straighten her legs.
“My love.” Remus turned on his side.
“I can’t fucking move.” Y/N chuckled, voice muffled by the pillow.
Remus hummed, eyes raking over her used body and sat up, massaging over her shoulders then down her back. His hands reached her hips, where he caressed extra soothingly and slowly closed them together. He bent forward, planting a kiss on Y/N’s cheek. She giggled as his locks of hair tickled her eyelid.
Languidly turning over, Y/N sighed in content.
Remus reached his hand, and pulled a strand of her hair out of her face, tucking it behind his ear. He felt warmth lower, as his body began to awaken for another round.
“We’re not getting much sleep tonight, huh?” Y/N giggled peering down at her husband.
It was a blessing that the Castle automatically out a Silencing charm on teachers’ living quarters, because anyone neighbouring them would have stayed up, hearing sinful, wet slapping sounds of skin all night.
part 6  and part 7 OUT NOW!!
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calpops · 4 years ago
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family | c.h.
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A plan for dinner in which your parents are to meet Calum for the first time doesn’t go as expected but it shows you who your true family is. 
1.3k words
dates with cal masterlist
Copyright © 2020 calpops. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format (translations included).
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You stand with a heavy heart, patience running thin and hope shattering on the kitchen floor where you had prepared a dinner you hoped to share with Calum and your parents. Calum is beside you, his arm around your waist and understanding in his eyes. He knew of your rocky relationship with your parents and the troubles it could arise but he had yet to meet them. Tonight is supposed to be that night. You shift, head shaking and eyes burning.
“Are you sure you told them the right time?” Calum asks, trying to stay optimistic so you don’t crumble any further. His hand squeezes your waist to remind you he’s there even if they aren’t.
“I think so,” you say around a tight sigh and fish into your pocket for your phone. “I called them last night. They sounded like they wanted to come. They promised.”
Your parents aren’t prone to making promises and just the word was enough to elicit false hope into you. No messages light up your screen as you glance down at your phone.
“Maybe... your parents don’t like me?” Calum questions and tries to make it a joke, tries to make his tone light and take the burden off your shoulders.
“They don’t even know you,” you reply, suddenly resigned and defeated. You know waiting for them will be excruciating. Standing around in the kitchen with the cooling food as a reminder of their tardiness isn’t going to help. You busy yourself with wrapping the dishes to put in the fridge.
“What are you doing?” Calum’s voice comes from behind you as you slide a salad in.
“It’s gonna get gross if it stays out much longer. I’ll just put it away while we wait.”
Your tone verges on desperation and Calum senses it immediately. He sees the shine of your eyes and the way your hands clench around the handle of the fridge.
“We can wait,” Calum reassures, lightly rubs the small of your back to calm you down and helps put away the rest with you before heading to the living room couch.
Duke joins you, curls up on your lap as a comfort mechanism—able to sense your distress and sadness without even understanding why—Calum sits beside you, tries at small talk while time ticks by. It’s an hour past the time they said they’d be here. Your hope is all but decimated when you check your phone one last time and come up empty. You feel as if you shouldn’t be surprised. This is nothing new; they missed birthdays and graduations and everything in between, but for some reason—perhaps a reason that shines with diamonds, an opal and your entire future—you thought it might be different this time.
“They’re not coming,” you realize just seconds before a call lights up your phone and hope comes back to taunt you. You answer with a timid greeting. Crack out an ‘okay�� when the hope goes back to shards and hang up the phone with tears on your cheeks. “They’re not. They said they have some stuff at home. Some-something about a…”
You can’t even finish their lame excuse before a sob slips through and you hide your face in your hands. Calum’s arms wind around you without hesitation, he pulls you into his chest, hands falling from your face in favor of hiding against him. His hands stroke through your hair, down your back, up and down again and again until another sob breaks and you start to shake.
“Sweetheart,” he says and it’s more than you could have thought to say if the roles were reversed. His voice is soft and sincere when he continues. “I’ve got you.”
You know what he means when he says that. Your parents aren’t here for you, they never really have been, but he is and the ring on your finger is a promise that he always will be. You try to collect yourself and stop a sob in its attempt to escape you. Instead a hiccup comes out and you hear Calum’s little huff of a giggle; he’s always said your hiccups are adorable.
“I feel stupid,” you admit and wonder if Calum can even understand you through the muffle and shake of your voice. He does. He always does.
“It’s not your fault,” he reminds but you shake your head.
“I should know better by now. They do this all the time,” you begin, finally finding some voice for the aching thoughts plaguing you. You still won’t pull away from him, too content to bask in his comfort, unsure you can look him in the eye when tears still slide from yours. “They don’t even want to meet the man I’m going to marry before I marry him. They probably won’t come to the engagement party. It’d be a miracle if they show up to the wedding. They just don’t care. Family isn’t supposed to be like this.”
“Family is complicated,” Calum says but you don’t want any attempts at justifications, whether either of you believe them or not. You just want a family that cares.
“I should be used to it by now—I just don’t have a family, not really.”
“You do,”‘ Calum insists and doesn’t let you hide anymore, his hands cup your jaw and gently coax you to look at him. “You have me and my parents and Mali and the guys and all of our friends. We are here for you. We love you.”
You nod, unable to find words to express the thoughts now finding you. He’s right. He has been there for you since the day you met. His parents took to you the moment you were introduced to them and Mali even before that, she texted you and called you well before an in person meeting. The guys welcomed you with open arms and thanked you for making Calum happy. They are his family and made you a part of it. The friends you made in adulthood had become like siblings. You might be missing some pieces but there are other people to fill in the gaps and make you feel whole.
“I love you,” you finally manage to get out, wipe your eyes and sniffle.
“And someday”—Calum says, thumb brushing away tears you missed—“we’ll have a family of our own.”
You let out a breath, a smile trudging through the sadness at his words that kick up ripples of warmth from the inside out. You nod, this time with happiness and a yearning for that future. For that family.
“We will,” you say, sure about that. “I’ll never be like my parents.”
“I know,” Calum responds with just as much certainty and a smirk growing on his face. “How many kids do you want?”
You tilt your head to the side. “At least two. So they can always have a friend.”
Calum laughs and nods in agreement. “Two is good. D’you have any names picked out yet?”
You bite your lip and dart your eyes up to the ceiling. The way he knows that you do and is waiting to hear them makes you know the ring on your finger and all of the promises it comes with are meant to be. Your lip springs free and you grin.
“I have some thoughts,” you admit but want to keep them secret until the time is right.
Calum talks to you about the future. You both get lost in a world yet to come. Make plans that won’t happen for years to come but you would bet with your whole heart and soul will happen eventually. Calum wouldn’t lie to you. Calum wouldn’t string you along and break your heart. He’s your family now.
<< >>
If you’d like to be added to my tag list just let me know!
Based on the dates with cal engagement prompt: your family doesn’t like me? And @outerspaceisbetterthannothing message of: They plan on finally meeting her parents. She’s very nervous and the very last moment her parents ditch them, saying they won’t be able to come because of some shit and that it’s not so important anyway, they’re sure Cal is a nice guy and they’ll meet him at the wedding. And she’s really upset and Cal tries to reassure her when he sees her tears, saying he is her family now and she has his parents and his sister and all of the boys. That’s her family, she’s not alone.
Tagged: @rosecolouredash​ @irwinkitten​ @golden-hood @who-do-you-love-5sos​ @caswinchester2000​ @wildflowergrae​ @empathycth​ @cuddlemecalx @malumsmermaid​ @babylon-corgis​ @outerspaceisbetterthannothing​ @mariellelovescupcakes​ @xhaileyreneex​ @goth5sos​ @gosh-im-short​ @feliznavidaddycal​ @loveroflrh​ @findingliam-o​ @flowerthug​ @g-l-pierce​ @talkfastromance4​ @superbloomirwin​ @wastedheartcth​ @calumscalm​ @notinthesameguey​ @lukesfuckingbeard​ @myloverboyash​ @treatallwithkindness​ @haikucal​ @wiildflower-xxx​ @calum-uncrowned @egyptiangoldhood​ @drarryetcetera​ @another-lonely-heart​ @megz1985​ @idk-harry​ @dinosaursandsocks​ @wildflower-cth​ @idontneedanyone​ @everyscarisahealingplace​ @myfavfanficsever​ @stormrider505​ @karajaynetoday​ @333-xx​ @calumshpod​ @calumsphile​ @calumrose​ @justhereforcalum​ @grreatgooglymoogly​ @calumance​ @mantlereid @hemmingslftv​ 
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marvels-agents100 · 4 years ago
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in the hands of tyche
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“for those who believe, no proof is necessary. for those who don’t believe, no proof is possible.” stuart chase
pairing: aaron hotchner x gender neutral ! reader
warnings: slight swearing
word count: 4,603
author’s note: thank you for your patience with this request! it is such a cool concept and it was so, so fun to write. also, im putting together a lil ~thing~ in celebration of hitting 100 followers, so stay tuned :)
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“Some psychic this guy is,” Rossi muttered, “this place is as far from a rocky shoreline as you can get.”
Hotch pulled back the blue plastic tarp that was draped in front of the window, revealing a view of lighthouse perched upon a rocky shoreline. Of course, it was a mural painted onto the brick wall of the neighboring building, but it was still a rocky shoreline, nonetheless.
“Dave,” Hotch said, the amusement not lost in his voice. The ghost of a smile danced on his lips as he turned back to his friend, more entertained by the legendary David Rossi being wrong than a psychic being right.
Meanwhile, at the local police department, you were placing Aaron’s files into his briefcase, hoping to have the station cleaned up for him and Dave before they returned. You set the files before you, biting onto your cheek as you tried to picture how Hotch would order them himself. Pensive thoughts brought about your fidgeting with the silver band that wound around your third finger. It was something you did whenever you got lost in your mind, playing with the engraved ring Jack had insisted Aaron purchase for you when they visited Disneyland the autumn before. Small sparkles and fireworks were etched into the metal, a small reminder of happiness when the days seemed dark.
You remember the day you received it, waiting at the airport terminal for the Hotchner boys. The moment you locked eyes with Jack, his smile had lit up the room and he began to sprint towards you, arms open and insistent. You knelt to catch him, his small body colliding with yours, your laugh filling the air.
It was short lived, the hug he gave you, because he quickly ripped himself away and ran back towards his dad. Jack’s tiny hand grabbed into his father’s first two fingers (his small palms were unable to fully grasp Aaron’s hand), desperately pulling the two of them towards you.
“Dad! We have to give them the present!” His little feet were skidding on the tile in excitement, sneakers jumping erratically against the linoleum. A giggle accompanied Aaron’s wide smile, his own feet moving at a purposefully slow pace, just to savor the unbridled excitement his son displayed.
“Present?” You questioned as the boys finally reached you, your eyebrow raising in Aaron’s direction.
“I picked it out all by myself!” Jack exclaimed, pointing a finger at his chest. The small lisp on his tongue only made his pride more endearing.
“He did,” Aaron agreed, his usually serious tone abandoned, “he refused to let me have any involvement in the choosing of presents.”
When you did finally receive the ring- back at Aaron’s apartment, where he could comfortably dig through his luggage- Jack also had to show you the other presents he had chosen for the rest of the team. The line-up included a Stitch bobble head for Auntie Penny and a Genie stuffie for Uncle Dave, to name a few.
Ever since that day, that ring was permanently placed on your finger- the sweet, innocent smile of Jack Hotchner calming your mind whenever you saw it. It had become a grounding mechanism during particularly difficult cases.
You decided to order the files by date, starting with the earliest murders. However, before you could even begin, your instincts froze your movements. The hairs along the base of your neck straightened, a slight shiver circling around your spine. Your eyes scanned the room subtly, meeting the gaze of none other than Stanley Usher, a resident psychic that was involved on the case, who was standing beside an officer across the room.
Abandoning your organizational pursuits, you walked the length of the room towards him.
“I have a feeling you haven’t heard this,” you began, “but thank you for helping on this case.” You decided to start politely, rather than confronting him for his obvious staring problem.
You held your hand in front of you, offering him a handshake.
“You believe I helped?” He questioned, smile never faltering as his palm shook yours briefly.
“I think it doesn’t matter what I believe,” you shrugged, “you gave someone hope when all was lost, and contributed to helping find a missing woman. I thank you for you intentions, whether your predictions came true or not.”
His eyes narrowed at you slightly, but that might have just been from his widening smile.
“I appreciate that,” his voice had a gentleness to it- you could see how he was so successful in his line of work. Anyone with a comforting timbre to their words would be easy to believe.
You nodded curtly, spinning on your heel to return to your work.
“And, Agent?”
You looked over your shoulder, pausing your stride momentarily.
“Chase him,” his lifted his hand, his thumb pointing to the base of his middle finger. Your eyes flickered to the silver ring on your own.
“When the summer rain falls, you’ll know he’s chasing you, too.”
You stared back at him for a moment longer, eyebrow raised in question. Then, wordlessly, you turned forward and moved to the aforementioned table, shaking away the completely ridiculous thoughts Stanley Usher had placed into your mind.
‘Chase him’? 
Yes, it was vague, and your skeptical mind told you that there was absolutely no logic behind it, but the certain Supervisory Special Agent that immediately popped into your thoughts was far from vague. Aaron Hotchner had occupied your conscious (and subconscious) mind rent-free, and his tenancy was a fact you did your best to ignore. But, despite your best effort, his deep, honey eyes and velvet voice never left you alone, even when you tried so hard to escape them.
There wasn’t a single soul who knew of your infatuation with your Unit Chief, and there was no way in hell Stanley Usher would know.
***
The jet was quiet on the trip home. You were sat beside Hotch- as per usual- while he read a book, his chin resting in his palm, elbow perched on the armrest of his seat. Mind somewhere between conscious and asleep, you lulled your head towards him.
“Hey, Hotch,” you spoke lowly, in order to not disturb everyone else on the plane, “guess what?”
A chuckle slipped past his lips, your obviously sleepy demeanor amusing him, “What?”
“Usher, the psychic guy, gave me a prediction.” You bit back a smile on your bottom lip, your slightly delirious state missing the way Aaron’s eyes flickered to your lips momentarily.
“Really?” A small grin- a shit-eating grin- settled on his features, (he always smiled so damn much when it came to you),  “Alright, I’ll bite. What did he say?”
“He basically told me that we’re gonna fall in love- something about summer rain?” you chuckled, lifting your hand, “And he got all of that from this ring.”
The falter in Hotch’s smile lasted only a millisecond, but the way his pulse raced was something he was sure would last for a few hours.
“I think that just confirms my theory,” Hotch relaxed further into his chair, eyes moving back to the novel in his lap, “that guy is a complete fraud.”
The back of your hand met his shoulder in a playful smack, “You’re an ass,” you settled into your own seat as well, closing your eyes as you began your first attempt at sleeping, “It would be a privilege to love me.”
And you were far into your own dreamland before he could even think about replying, but even if you were awake and alert, his honest reply would’ve died on his tongue before he even spoke the words.
Yes, he thought, it would.
***
There were no more discussions of a potential love, or Stanley Usher, following that late-night jet conversation. Life was nothing short of normal and wonderful, with the days spent in the BAU full of cases and paperwork, and the days off spent with Jack and Aaron, (since Hailey let Aaron take Jack on his days off), or in the comfort of your own home. That’s not to say your feelings had disappeared, but rather you had never broken your routine of completely burying them.
Little did you know, the words you shared with Aaron that night had yet to leave his mind. It was a terrible and abrupt realization, how much he truly cared for you. It was a subject he had never fully confronted within himself- whether it was out of fear or avoidance, he didn’t know. But, since your sleep-induced thoughts spilled from your lips, they had wormed their way into the forefront of his memory and had given little respite to the anxious worry they brought with them. It was entirely stressful, trying to figure out his own emotions.
There was only one thing he was certain of: he had wondered how your lips would taste on far too many occasions to call it normal daydreaming.
He found himself struggling with his self control when you were around Jack. There was something about the way his son smiled at you, that made him want to hold you for an eternity. The swell in his chest brought a warm fullness that he hadn’t known he was missing, but the feeling of it’s presence became addicting. He found himself yearning for you, missing your company, wishing to hear your voice.
“Watch out!” You had yelled to him, running from the giggling Jack Hotchner, “It’s the baby monster!”
Jack squealed in delight, hands held in front of him like an adorable, undead zombie, feet pattering on the hardwood flooring as he chased you.
Ah, there it is.
Like a breath of fresh air, the feeling returned. The weightlessness it brought made Aaron float.
***
The sun shone brightly as you entered the BAU, and while the bright weather is something you usually praised, the lingering pain of the previous night’s bad decisions was keeping you from basking in the light. Damn Emily and her affinity for whiskey.
The travel mug of coffee in your hand made a satisfying clink against the wood of your desk, your half lidded eyes reaching a file that hadn’t been there when you left yesterday. In fact, it was a file you had turned in a few days prior. On top of the manilla was an orange sticky note, the unmistakably messy writing of none other than Aaron Hotchner scrawled on it.
MISSING ME’S TOXICOLOGY SCREEN- SECOND VICTIM
AH.
You sighed as you settled into your seat, picking up the landline to call in for the report.
He subtly watched you from his office, almost chuckling at the slump in your shoulders. You were never able to say no to Emily, regardless of how many shots she brought to you. A smile tilted at his lips, but was quickly gone as a knock sounded from the door.
“Come in,” he called. JJ’s head poked in, a sizable stack of files in her arm.
“Good morning,” she greeted, “I just wanted to let you know, they’re postponing maintenance repairs on the jet until tomorrow.”
He shuffled papers around, eyes following his work’s movement, “Are there any cases you’re considering? Should we start looking at commercial?”
“Thankfully, no,” there was hint of a laugh in her words, “which is good. I’ve never liked flying in the rain.”
His actions stopped momentarily, gaze snapping up to the woman in his doorway. Desperately, he tried to keep his features from displaying how his heart had dropped from his chest.
“That is good,” he agreed, his voice surprisingly strong, “keep me updated.”
“Yes, sir,” she smiled, the door clicking shut as she retreated back to her office.
He let out a long, drawn out breath as soon as she left, suddenly feeling dizzy and very, very warm. The intensity of his pulse was something that echoed in his ears, which became red at the very ends to match his cheeks. He had put his best efforts into keeping the words of Stanley Usher from his mind, but it was a lost cause as soon as JJ had mentioned the rain.
Eyes moving back to you, he felt the nerves begin to eat away at his gut. You were obviously miserable, but somehow, someway, the slight frown on your features and the (mildly) disheveled state of your hair was enough to lift the very corner of his lips into a minuscule smile. Even on one of your worst days- which is beyond understandable, from your choice of a drinking partner- you were, in Hotch’s eyes, the most beautiful being he had ever seen.
***
It took a little over an hour to get the toxicology screening faxed to the unit, machine sputtering as it printed. You slipped the paper into the file, the soles of your shoes clicking against the floor as you made your way to Aaron’s office. Knuckles tapping lightly on the wooden door, you poked your head in.
“I have that file completed,” you smiled, holding up said file in the doorway.
“Come in,” he didn’t look up from the papers below his pen.
You didn’t think much of his focus, moving into the office and putting your revised work on top of the tower of manila that sat on his desk.
“Anything you need?” You offered, fingers twisting the ring on your finger, “Coffee? Food? A break?”
He finally looked up at you, eyes flickering to your fidgeting hands.
“No,” his voice was soft, “but thank you.”
You nodded shortly, a polite smile on your lips before you turned and left, suppressing a shiver that ran down your spine. There was something that was bothering him, you knew. His whole demeanor was slightly shifted, slightly wrong. Even if you didn’t know the reason, you sure as hell didn’t want to deal with an oddly behaved Hotch for the remainder of your day.
You popped two Advil into your mouth at your desk, willing your headache to leave you as you began plotting.
***
Your final decision was that of the edible route. If there was anything in the world that could create a smile on Aaron Hotchner’s face, it was a blueberry scone from the hole-in-the-wall cafe three blocks north of the BAU. Your lunch break was spent walking to, and dining at said cafe, enjoying a scone and coffee yourself, the second round of caffeine helping to ease the remnants of your hangover.
Emily hadn’t stopped teasing you since the moment you had clocked in that morning. She was as chipper as ever, acting as if she had gotten a full eight hours of sleep and didn’t touch a single drop of alcohol the night before. The way she seemed invincible to the source of your destruction only further proved your point that God is a woman, and her name is Emily Prentiss.
But, despite the jokes and jabs from your close friend, the BAU had been oddly quiet. Any day spent without a case was something to be marveled at in and of itself, but the tense atmosphere extended further than that. Specifically, into the Unit Chief’s office. Derek had talked to you about it briefly, the way Hotch was acting. 
“I know that office is his home, but the closed door is a bit concerning.”
You agreed, but neither of you knew how to go about a solution. Eventually, you had retreated back to your desk and subsequent mountain of paperwork. It was while you were finishing a file on the cop-killer in Phoenix, Arizona, that the famous blueberry scone made an appearance in your mind.
It was quickly followed with a mental image of Aaron Hotchner’s smile, but you elected to ignore that. (You also ignored the way your heart was beating because of it).
You were one block away from the Quantico Headquarters when the sunny sky split,  unleashing a rain that was just heavy enough to soak you thoroughly.
Water dripping off your clothes, you stepped into a nearby clothing shop, heading straight to the clerk.
“Do you sell umbrellas?” You asked, arms crossed and fist still gripping onto the scone-filled plastic bag. 
“Back corner over there,” he said politely as he pointed, obvious sympathy in his eyes.
Nodding, you turned and followed his direction, tugging a new shirt and slacks from their hangers as you walked. A bucket of umbrellas sat exactly where he said they would be, all patterned differently.
Naturally, you took the plain, black one, moving towards the front of the store once again.
“Is it okay if I change into these clothes after?” You questioned, placing your items on the counter.
“Of course,” he replied with a smile, “dressing rooms are just around that corner.”
Paying him quickly, you grinned, “thank you.” 
You sent the polite retail worker one last smile as you exited the store, wet clothes in the plastic bag the scone was previously in, the treat protected only by the paper pastry bag the baker had placed it in. Everything was better- since you were armed with an umbrella and fresh clothes- until you glanced down to your watch. You were, without a doubt, late.
The sprint you took off into was that of complete panic, knowing the team was sure to be questioning your absence. You were always so punctual- any deviation longer than five minutes (which was tripled, at the time), was noticed immediately. 
Shoes splashing in the pavement’s puddles, the FBI building finally came into view. You huffed as you walked up to the secured, employee-entrance door, reaching for the ID card that always sat at the hem of your shirt.
The dread that filled you when you grasped air was nothing short of terrible.
Your eyes moved to your hip, and there was empty space where that card, adorned with that terrible ID photo, should have been. Frantically, your hand patted at your pockets, only to find them empty. Your other hand was occupied with the umbrella, bag of clothes, and blueberry scone.
As your self-pat down turned up fruitless, your frustration took over, causing you to close and abandon the umbrella for the sake of using both of your hands. The rain soaked you quickly, which only added to the tension. And, as if you hadn’t suffered enough, the stress had begun your alcohol induced headache once again.
It wasn’t until your smiling face, next to the title ‘Supervisory Special Agent’, shone through the plastic bag that your erratic search stopped. 
Of course, you thought, a wave of relief rushing over you, of course it’s still on my other shirt.
In reality, opening that plastic bag should’ve been an easy enough task, but the shakiness of your post-drunken fingers and the slickness that came with the rain proved it to be the complete opposite.
To say you could cry from the pure frustration with the entirety of your situation was an understatement.
“Damn it!” You exclaimed, letting the bag drop to the concrete. It landed next to the now soaked scone- the entire reason you had left the building in the first place.
You had half the mind to call Emily and beg her to let you in quietly before the entrance’s door swung open.
“Good God,” you groaned, “this day just keeps getting better.”
Hotch stood in the doorway, eyebrows furrowed as the took in your outfit change, your dripping hair, and the umbrella, plastic bag, and paper bag at your feet. Honestly, it was a lot to process.
“Should I ask?” He questioned, one eyebrow lifting. It took everything in him to fight off his smile.
“I mean it with complete sincerity when I say: I will kill you if you do,” you threatened.
“Noted,” he chuckled, stepping into the rain and picking up the previously discarded umbrella. He opened it swiftly, holding over his and your head. “Are you okay?”
And his voice was so soft and so damn tender, you almost lost it then. It didn’t help that he was entirely too close to you.
“I went to get you a scone,” your eyes peeled from his and landed on the pastry bag, sure to be containing the soggy remnants of said scone at that point, “It started raining, and it all went downhill from there.”
He followed the trail of your eyes, looking at the sad, saturated brown bag, “Why did you do that, sweetheart?”
Ignoring the feeling the pet name gave you, you met his gaze once again, “You’ve been in a funk today. Thought I’d try to cheer you up.”
He sighed, eyes jumping between yours, “I appreciate it, even if it didn’t survive the trip here.”
“Yeah,” you cracked a smile, “what a short, sad life.”
“Very sad,” he agreed, his own smile widening with yours. 
You stared at him for a moment, before realizing your stupor and quickly saying, “I’m sorry I’m late.”
“You’re alright,” he shook his head with his words, denying your need for an apology.
“I figured someone would notice I was gone,” you chuckled, “I left my ID on my first pair of clothes, then had a disagreement with the bag.”
“I definitely saw all of it,” he smirked.
“Dick,” you nudged him, still trying to calm your pulse.
“I know,” only a couple steps closer and you would be pressed against him, “but yes, I noticed you were gone.”
What he didn’t say was how hesitant he had been to retrieve you. It was summer, rain was falling from the sky, and the predictions of some small-town psychic were weighting heavily on his mind. Despite his skeptic nature, the mere thought of standing with you in the rain was enough to bundle his stomach into a nervous knot. There were very little things he couldn’t control about himself, and his ability to restrain his feelings while standing beside you in a soft rain was something he was absolutely sure he couldn’t control.
And you know, sometimes he was so annoyed with how right he was.
Because, as he stood before you- small water droplet stains on his charcoal grey shoulders and little drips falling from the ends of his hair- he could feel every ounce of self control slip from his grasp. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure if he was holding on very tightly to begin with.
It was completely your fault, he had decided. It was your fault because you had walked in the rain, almost got into an altercation with a plastic bag, were still fighting off a whiskey hangover- and yet, you managed to be just as radiant and beautiful as you had always been. It was your fault because you made him feel warm as he stood in a chilled rain. It was your fault because he was standing so close to you and wanted nothing more than to reach out and hold you.
If you weren’t so damn perfect, he wouldn’t be at war with himself.
“Hotch?” You asked, your eyebrows creased together, “You okay?”
He broke from his thoughts, blinking at you. There was a moment before he spoke, words tumbling from his lips before he could stop them.
“Stanley Usher.”
“Stanley Usher?” You repeated.
“What did he say?” He questioned, “About the summer rain?”
“You can’t be serious-“
“Please.”
“Why?” You interrogated, “What does he have to do with- oh.”
You met his eyes with your own, allowing yourself to read him- which was usually off limits. He looked desperate, almost yearning, for an answer. It was almost laughable, the thought of him believing the words of Stanley Usher. You hadn’t forgotten them, but you were far more spiritual than Aaron. He was the one who was supposed to be completely level headed and realistic.
“Aaron, be honest with me,” you began, “are you asking me because you want to justify your feelings?”
Maybe it was too bold, but you needed the answer, and were far too frustrated with the day to dance around the subject.
The way he immediately looked to the ground was answer enough. You sighed, saddened by the fact that he felt ashamed. It was expected, his embarrassment with himself. Anyone who had feelings for a subordinate would act the same.
You sighed before speaking.
“It reminds me of you, the rain,” you said softly. His eyes flickered up to you, looking through his lashes.
“It’s a little cold, but it’s soft and refreshing,” you continued, reaching up and tracing your fingertips on his temple, “I would dance in it all day, if I could.”
He knew what you were saying, and it took his breath away.
Your hand dropped to your side, your head tilting slightly to get a better look at him, “Would you?”
And all at once, he couldn’t hold himself back anymore. The umbrella clattered onto the pavement, his large hands holding your face instead, pulling you to him and connecting your lips to his. You let out a surprised squeak, but quickly relaxed into his touch, winding your arms around his neck.
He kissed you desperately, like the rain would wash you away as soon as he let go. You let yourself get lost in him, throwing every reservation and hesitation to the wolves. He seemed to do the same, hands finding your waist and pulling you closer. He wanted no empty space between you. Happily obliging, you tightened your grip around him.
You wanted desperately to learn every detail of him, to feel his breath with yours, to match the beating of his heart. You wanted to know every flaw, every weakness- every portion of him, no matter how small. He had become your everything, and you were content with that first kiss being your last first kiss.
Even as the rain relentlessly fell upon the two of you, no complaints were heard. The raindrops were simply an audience to the resolution of an unspoken love.
You were the first to break away, unable to ignore your empty lungs. Neither of you moved to untangle from each other.
“Aaron,” you breathed, your words brushing against his lips, “we’re gonna have a lot of explaining to do,” your eyes flickered to the cameras lining the federal building before you.
He rolled his eyes, chuckling, “Forgive me if I don’t care.”
“Couldn’t agree more,” you pressed a chaste peck to his lips.
“Mm,” he hummed as you pulled away, “I have been waiting to do that for a while.”
“I’ve been waiting for you to do that for a while.”
Your teasing tone was not lost on him as he bumped your nose with his, “We are both going to get sick from this rain.”
“Worth it,” you sighed, connecting his lips with your own once again.
And he couldn’t agree more. Even when you both caught a nasty cold, even when Strauss confronted you about your ‘romantic endeavors’, even when the team teased the living hell out of both of you- it was all worth it.
You were worth it.
***
Stanley Usher sat in his living room, flipping through channels before landing on the news, the local weather man flashing on the screen.
“-and, as the weekends come, we expect precipitation on the west coast-“
And he felt it, the phantom metal around his middle finger, the overwhelming warmth in his chest. He looked to the ceiling, almost able to hear the soft patter of rain on pavement. His thumb brushed the coolness away from his finger, and he settled into his couch cushions, a smile never leaving his face.
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kinsurou · 4 years ago
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wifey!! congrats on 500 followers im so freaking proud of you 🥺💓 can i request 83 for hawks with a dom! reader maybe theyre in public 🙈 and mayhaps 79 for tamaki but its tamaki who has to do the covering? thank you!! ❤️❤️
Aaaaa, thank you so much wifey! I owe this to you guys in the server for helping me out and supporting me! 😭💖
83. How quickly can you cum?
79. You don’t need to cover up the bruises/hickeys
Takami Keigo
If there’s something Hawks really loves about his favorite yakitori restaurant, is the privacy. Having a whole room all for yourself to have your meal in peace is something to be thankful when you’re one of the most popular pro heroes as well as one of the top-ranking ones such as him.
It is also the perfect place for such scandalous acts like the one you’re currently performing. hidden underneath the table with your lips wrapped around his erect member. The teasing smile you give him from under the furniture as your hands keep stroking the base of his throbbing cock is just so...alluring.
enough to nearly make him cum all over your face in the spot, but he wants to hold on as much as he can. It’s not often that he gets the chance to be pampered by his precious fiance after all.
When he reaches down in a desperate attempt to pull on your hair, the hand quickly gets slapped away and those sharp eyes look at him through long eyelashes. That makeup of your always leaves Hawks mesmerized.
“Did I say you could move, babe?” Your lips release his throbbing cock and your stop stroking him, earning a pathetic little whine in response before he gives a slight shake of his head “Good boy! But if you try that again, might as well take care of this all by yourself, got it?”
“Y-yes…!” It wasn’t often that you went dominant into the relationship, but when you were in the mood? God, Keigo loved it. So he just relaxes back into his chair while your mouth once again begins to pleasure the writhing man squirming in the palms of your hands.
“The waitress is almost here. Tell me baby bird….How quickly can you cum?” Your cheeks are hollowed as you start sucking him harder, softly playing with his balls to turn the hero into a hissing mess, he gives you a small pout when you pull away again “Don’t give me that look baby bird, you brought this upon yourself.”
“Please babe…” He’s doing just as told, hands gripping harshly into fists while his body leans forwards on the table, careful not to spill your drink in the process. “I’m close, I’m really close!” 
“You’re one spoiled little bird, aren’t you?” Those giggles may sound sweet to others, but he knows that once you’re both back home, he’s in for quite the surprise. “Oh well...I guess I can spoil my little bird just this once˜.”
This time, you take in his full length until it reaches the back of your throat, and the little growls as you try to hold on for as long as you can make him shudder at the feeling. It takes less than a few seconds for him to release inside your mouth with a groan as he emptied himself inside your mouth. 
Slowly you pull away for good, kissing cutely at the head with a little smile, watching the lovestruck smile Hawks gives as he looks down at you with glassy eyes full of unshed tears. He’s struggling to catch his breath after that little stunt, but it’s not something he can really complain about, especially when he hears the small ‘gulp’ and watches with widening, astonished eyes as you swallow his seed with no struggle.
“You’re such a good boy, Keigo!” As a reward, you tuck him back into his boxers yourself, zipping the pants quickly and crawl back into your seat, then you grab a napkin to wipe at the corner of those soft lips he adores, where a small white spot messes up your lipstick. 
Frowning, you begin rummaging through the seemingly endless void inside your handbag until you find the small mirror, completely ignoring your panting fiance while looking at the reflection with a small pout.
“I have to fix my makeup.” You rise from the seat before coming to his side to give the red-faced hero a soft peck on the lips “I’ll be right back babe!”
You walk out of the room at the same moment the waitress comes in with a couple of drinks, you both exchange a friendly greeting before you walk out towards the bathroom.
“Sorry for the waiting, here are the drinks you ordered” She gives Hawks a look before blinking twice “Are you feeling okay sir? Your face seems red.”
His eyes widen for a second before he gives her an awkward smile accompanied by a small wave of his hand.
“I’m fine miss, don’t worry about it.”
Tamaki Amajiki
He’s pulling at his collar unconsciously, looking embarrassed at his surroundings as if every person passing by was judging him when the truth is they’re actually concerned about the scarlet shade adorning his whole face up to the tip of his ears.
How could Tamaki not feel self-conscious with the purple and red bruises adorning his whole neck starting from the jaw and ending all the way to the collarbone?
But he has to admit getting them was the best experience of his life, the feeling of your lips leaving trail after trail of love bites on his skin still lingers deep into his memories. As well as the way you kept riding him with a burning passion, quite ironic for someone with a water quirk.
Not that he didn’t put his part on it as he thinks back to the way he clung to your body, desperate to finish deep inside of you as the friction became nearly unbearable for him after going at it for hours.
“You’re...ah! You’re doing great honey!” You whimper in his ear as your nails keep scratching all over his back in synch with each thrust of his body against yours. the burning sensation at his back made him growl, something that surprised you both as Tamaki was usually the whimpering type. But that sound he let out was so...dominant, that your body couldn’t help clenching tightly around him.
Your face withdrew from his neck to look him in the eye, tenderly your hands grabbed the sides of his burning face before giving him a deep, passionate kiss “So that’s what you’re into, baby? Praising?” 
A thumb traced over the outline of his jaw, touching one of the small marks scattered across the skin “Being told how much of a good boy you are, baby?” you yelped, startled by the sudden jab of his pelvis against your core, face buried once again into his shoulder to whisper sweet nothings into your sweet boyfriend’s ear.
“Y-Yes...I-I love it when you say that.” His arms wrapped tighter around your waist to pull you down on him at a frantic pace, too lost in satisfaction to think about anything else but having you closer to him for a little longer.
Between the sweet words, the warm feeling of your walls around him, and the mouth leaving bite after bite on his neck, Tamaki was surprised he prevailed that long. He could only hope that soon, there could be another chance to have a taste of your-
“Babe?” 
His head jolts towards the direction your voice comes from, and there you are wearing that costume that has made him take so many cold showers over the last months, that it’s a wonder he hasn’t caught a cold by this point. “You’re pulling your costume a lot.”
“I um…” He struggles to say it, but judging by that mischievous smile on your face, it’s evident that you know what he’s trying to point out. Softly pulling on the edges of his cape, Tamaki’s face is pulled down so you’re looking at him in the eye, almost in a parallel way as that night shared together between the sheets. “You don’t need to cover up the hickeys.” 
You share a small kiss together, nothing too scandalous but nothing too sweet either. By this point, the sound of the paparazzi scrambling, desperate to capture the romantic gesture between two heroes and lovers could almost be heard from a mile away.
“If I were you…” releasing him from the hold, he only sees you walking forwards and waving slightly at Red riot, who just came back from patrol. “I’d be more worried about that boner!”
His blush couldn’t get even redder as he stumbles in place, attempting to hide his front with his cape and realizing at the last minute that it was all just a joke.
Your sweet (not so sweet) laughter could be listened to across the street, and Tamaki almost yearns he could crawl into a hole right there, right now.
@unbreakableeiji
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dreamifics · 4 years ago
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Left my Heart in the Past
James Potter x Reader
Part 10:
You lie awake in bed, the silence of your room was enabling you to overthink. Flashes of what happend earlier was showing in your mind, the way James looked at you like a lion ready to pounce on his prey, and you his prey..
You know how uncomfortable you are with the way he stared at you but somehow you longed and yearned for it.. You glance at your watch and saw that it was 11pm but you still can't fall asleep.. You sit up on your bed, looking around to do something.. You saw your trunk, and lying there was the clothes you were wearing the night you time travelled..
You stand up, reaching the plain gray pajamas.. You pick it up when something fall from its pocket..
A small box with a ribbon on top, your forehead creased in confusion.. You have never seen this thing before, you picked it up and examined it.. But nothing was out of the normal, you gave in and opened it..
There was a locket and a note inside it, who gave this to you? You softly pick the locket up, it look so beautiful.. You opened it and there it was..
A picture of you, Hermione, Ron and Harry.. This was the Yule Ball, you guys cleaned up nice, while they went with their dates, you came alone.. But Draco did offer you to dance, that was uncalled for but you accept.. You ended up stepping at his foot which caused the two of you to bicker and it leads to a fight..
A smile formed in your face, but a heavy sigh escaped your lips, letting your head drop.. Tears welled up in your eyes, throat closing up as you breath shakily.. You picked up the note that was inside the box, a tear escaped your eyes as you shakily opens the note..
Dear Y/n,
     You entered into my life when I didn't expect it at all, I guess i should thank the troll who have gotten inside the girl's lavatory because i never would have met you..I suppose all thing's have silver linings even the one that almost killed us..
A laugh erupted from your lips but there were still tears strolling down your cheeks.. You remembered the way Ron took down the troll and how you and Hermione were hiding.. The troll accidentally got in when someone accidentally let in, Hermione took the fall and that's how you met Hermione Granger..
     —I also remember how we got stuck inside a room with a three-headed dog, i recall how you wanted to pet it.. That was pretty stupid of you, but the way you kick Draco's arse at Quidditch is one of the smartest thing you have ever done! Im just joking, the two of us are the only smart people in our house..
You were laughing but tears were streaming down your cheeks, the way Rom screamed at the three-headed dog and how they looked at you like you were crazy when you said you wanted to pet it..
     —So i give you this locket as a token of our friendship..Why a locket? Because i remember when we went to Hogsmeade you said something about wanting to have a locket but you didn't find any. I saw how disappointed you are, so i owl my Mother and asked her to buy me a locket so i can give it to you..
This made you miss them more, you wanted to run in their arms and say 'i love you'.. You weren't the 'i love you' person, you barely even said those three words..
—I wanted to give this to you in person but you barely have time to talk, you don't even eat dinner anymore and when i get to our room your drop dead in bed.. So here is this locket with the picture of us at the Yule Ball, we were so happy..
I know we all promised to moved in together after Hogwarts so we won't be away from each other..But if there ever comes a day when we all can't be together, keep us in your heart and we'll stay there forever..
-Hermione Granger           
Your tears were now strolling down your cheeks, you wanted to sob but afraid that you'll wake up someone.. You take a shaky breath and put the necklace on your neck.. Brushing the hair off from your neck..
You stand up and wipe your face with your hands, you make your way to the bathroom to rinse off the tear stains in your cheeks.. But as you reached the bathroom door, you heard voices coming from the common room.. You stop in your tracks, you wanted to listen in.. But your parents didn't raise a nosy kid, and that used to be true.. Until you met your friends, and now all of you are getting involved at some of Hogwarts adventure..
And you finally came to a decision, slowly walking to the common room but you decided to hide.. And you saw James, Remus, and Sirius they were whispering but you can't make it out.. So you scoot closer more, badly wanting to hear what they were saying.. But still nothing, you let out a sigh and was about to walked away when you knocked over a decoration from the wall..
Your eyes widen at your clumsiness, and you heard some shuffles from the common room.. You heard footsteps that was getting close to you, so you did what a rational person would do..
You run as fast as you can, your used to running.. You ran away from trolls, spiders, and a goblin.. But that goblin was overreacting, you just pet it's head and threw a fit.. You finally reached the bathroom, so you walked inside and did what you were supposed to do, before you decided to become a nosy wit..
This is a filler because im busy with school, im sorry you guys.. But i also want to remind you guys that this is a AU without Voldemort sooo, stay safe y'all!!Also under this is the picture of the locket, i just saw it on pinterest..
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sup-hoes-its-me · 4 years ago
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Cherry (Shinsou x Reader)
A/N: shinsou is my favorite, so im writing another one. reader is in a relationship with kirishima, but her best friend shinsou is in love with her and she is just beginning to realize she loves him back. 
Ps- I really do feel the quality of my writing has been declining recently and im so sorry. I hope at least some of you can still enjoy.
Word count: 5500
__________________________
It was a long process, falling out of love with Kirishima. Every time Y/N felt things were about to come to an end, he would show up with a bouquet of roses and her favorite candies, or he would buy them tickets to see a movie she was desperate to see and he would slip his arm around her shoulders, and he just felt so warm and inviting. How could she be giving up on such a wonderful guy? 
He was the perfect boyfriend. Had been for two years. Just why was she drifting away?
When he kissed her, she found herself more often than not just wanting it to be over.  Hugs practically diminished on her end, followed by holding hands, and calling him when she was upset and needed someone to talk to. 
Instead, she had reverted back to spending time with someone else. She felt like shit for it, not having realized how much she’d changed. Suddenly, when she felt the anxiety or fear of the hero world burdening her, she would call Shinsou Hitoshi. It was abnormal, really. They grew up on the same city block, and attended the same middle and high school. They were best friends.
They weren’t dating. Never had. Suddenly though, it felt like they should be.
She missed him, the close friendship they once had first year and prior. It wasn’t always that strong, this longing to see him, to talk to him, to have him wrap his arms around her and hold her tight against his chest. No no. She genuinely loved and wanted affection from Kirishima alone for a couple years. She was in love with him, that was never a lie.
Now her entire life felt backwards. She wanted the love of her best friend, and it weighed heavy on her. She felt guilty and disgusting for doing such a thing to Kirishima, who cared so much for her and always remained loyal. These new thoughts and feelings...she wished they would just go away. 
But were they even new? She loved Shinsou as a friend for so long, but there were always hints of something more. To him, she was his first friend, the only one who took the time to get to know him and not just his villainous quirk. She was a kind soul, a generous girl with a smile that could rock anyone’s world. He was her rock, someone there to bring her down to Earth when things get overwhelming. He was calming and brave and ambitious, and she liked that in a friend. More so, she liked that about him. She liked everything about him, each flaw, each scar, each vulnerable moment. 
There were certain aspects of their relationship she yearned for with Kirishima but couldn’t have. He wasn’t that deep. Their conversations felt empty and lonely most of the time. It’s not that he wasn’t smart, he just didn’t know what to say around her to spark her interest the way Shinsou made her shine.
She lied in her dorm that night, the lights turned off and only the faint glow of the moon shining through her window. She tried to shut her eyes and sleep, to forget all about these feelings in her dreams, but nothing would help her relax. Time and time again she tossed from one side to the other, checked her cell phone for messages only to see none, listened to the ticking of her clock on the wall. The sheets felt scratchy on her bare skin, and her pillow and mattress were suddenly uncomfortable beneath her weight. 
Frustrated, she rolled out of bed and headed to the hall quietly, trying not to signal to the other dorms she was wandering. Maybe some water would do her some good, or some warm sleepytime tea to knock her out for the night. Sleep was something Y/N needed desperately.
As she turned the corner to enter the kitchen, she noticed a familiar mop of purple hair in the distance, attached to a lanky, heighty body she saw nearly everyday. He stood in an old school insignia t-shirt, leaning over the counter near the coffee maker. 
He was a weird guy, drinking coffee this late into the night. He never did sleep much though, everyone knew that. The bags under his eyes were evidence.
“Shinsou?”
He lifted his eyes from the counter, turning to look at the girl standing midway down the hallway. He was tired, just waiting for his drink to brew before heading back to his dorm. He was tired, but never enough to ignore her.
For hours that night, he just laid there with his hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling before he got up to move around. No use just laying in bed all night. He felt nervous being alone at night with her. There was always this bit of paranoia that Mina or Mineta would go and fabricate some rumor that Y/N was cheating on Kirishima with him. They were friends, and everyone knew that, but it was a thought that crossed his mind from time to time.  
Normally, she would just come to his dorm when she wanted to talk this late, which used to be most nights. That's always what she did, even if she had to sneak around after curfew. Since she started dating though, it would have been weird for her to be inside some other guy’s dorm that late. People would talk if they saw her entering or exiting, and it would start some drama. 
It just wasn’t worth it. Even though he yearned to feel her presence in person, to see her smiling face and her bright, shining eyes, it just wasn’t possible. That’s why he felt so nervous being seen alone with her at 3 am, the way teenagers talk...He just wished some people could mind their own fucking buisness and let him be a friend. For fuck’s sake.
So, nearly every night before either of them could fall asleep, she called him and just talked mindlessly for hours until one of them fell asleep on the phone (usually her). That night she hadn’t called him yet, and it made him anxious. Why wasn’t she calling him? Did something happen? Was she with Kirishima? He prayed she wasn’t in that guy’s room at this hour, doing God knows what.
He had no right to be jealous. He should just appreciate that she still wanted to be his friend.
Regardless, he was just happy she still spoke to him. She could have ditched him for her new boyfriend, he knew that very well, but she hadn’t. He took her attention for granted growing up, always having a friend to confide in. Suddenly, when she accepted Kirishima’s confession at the end of their first year, he felt his entire world crumbling around him. He never realized how much he needed her until that moment.
Admittedly, that day, his entire heart shattered into a million pieces for multiple reasons. He loved her. He wasn’t brave enough to confess to her yet, and suddenly that other guy swooped in and stole her right from under his nose. It’s not like he has the right to control who she went out with though. Nor did he have the right to be upset about it. She wasn’t his to begin with.
He just needed to stop being so selfish. He hated how this girl made him feel. He felt selfish and lonely and desperate. He found himself blushing when she spoke to him in class in front of other people, sometimes even staring at her when he thought no one was looking. Thankfully no one except Denki had noticed this. He promised to keep it a secret though.
He just couldn’t understand how she could love Kirishima. He just didn’t seem like her type at all. He was too wild, loud, and sociable. She was the opposite, and their relationship didn’t seem compatible whatsoever. It frustrated him.
He looked around the hallway to make sure no one else was there before, leaning against the counter and peering down at her. Her eyes were dulled from what appeared to be stress, and this only confirmed his suspicions that something had happened. 
“Are you okay, Y/N? You didn’t call me tonight; I was worried about you.”
She shook her head, wrapping her arms around her torso. She always did that when she was deep in thoughts or something was making her uncomfortable. He could only hope it wasn’t something serious. She bit her lip and looked at the wall, avoiding eye contact. 
“I don’t know, Hitoshi. I really don’t know what I’ve been feeling lately,” she whispered. “I’m just so confused.”
“About what?”
She felt tears bubble up in the corners of her eyes, and she had to choke down a sob. Quickly, she wiped away her tears in an attempt to hide them and be strong, but she just couldn’t. Her eyes became soaked quickly, and hot, salty tears ran down her cheeks without any sign of stopping.
“I don’t know if I love Kirishima anymore. I don’t know what’s going on with me and why I'm doubting my relationship like this,” she cried, trying to keep her voice down to avoid any eavesdropping. He peered down the hallway again to see no one and no lights on. 
“Did something happen?”
She just shook her head again, pressing her hands to her eyes and letting out another sob. “No. He’s been so nice to me as usual. He always compliments me and takes me out on dates, but lately it just doesn’t feel the same,” she explained, “When he hugs me, I just want to push him away. And he’s always asking for kisses, and I can’t give them to him anymore. Just the thought of kissing him makes me feel sick to my stomach.”
“Oh.” How could he respond to that. It felt too personal, too intimate for him to be hearing. Guilt built up in his chest as she spoke more and more.
“It just feels so wrong, Eijirou touching me.”
He didn’t know what to say. They seemed to have a perfect relationship. He never doubted if they would stay together or not. it  always seemed so obvious, so hopelessly obvious that she loved him. “Y/N, I’m sorry.”
“I just don’t know what’s going on with me. I’m so confused all the time.”
“About what?”
“I-I…” Honestly, she was confused because recently she felt herself wanting Shinsou to hold her instead, to ask her for kisses and hold her hand, for him to be the only one to make her laugh and smile. She missed going to his room late at night and talking to him until the sun came up. She wanted him. And it made her feel so fucking shitty. How could she just abandon Eijirou because she was in love with someone else all along? 
She couldn’t possibly tell Shinsou that. Not only would she lose her boyfriend, but also her best friend in the entire world. She couldn’t handle that type of loss.
“It’s okay, you don’t have to explain yourself,” the boy assured her, placing a hand on her upper arm. She shook off his hand and instead reached out to hold his hand in hers. Immediately, he could feel the tremors running down her arm and through her hand. “Just take a deep breath. Calm down, this isn’t a crisis.”
“I don’t want to break his heart, Hitoshi. He’s treated me so good, and he’s such a nice guy. I feel so bad.”
“You’ll only make it worse for him if you stay with him and continue lying, saying you love him,” he sighed, thinking over the situation without bias. Sure, he wanted them to break up, but in reality, how could he do such thing to a friend like Kirishima?  “But if you think you might fall in love with him again, I don’t know what you should do. Maybe talk to him about how-”
“I shouldn’t stay with him.”
“If that’s how you feel…” he trailed off. It seemed she was going to break up with him. He didn’t know whether to be upset or relieved. On one hand, she wouldn’t need to split her attention between Kirishima and him. On the other hand, it wasn’t like she would go out with him. They were just friends this whole time, and it would be weird for him to ask her out right after she got out of a relationship. 
She sucked up her tears, sobs turning to little sniffles and tears drying up on her cheeks. She still held his hand, squeezing every now and then. He knew he shouldn’t let her do this. He should have just stayed in bed. He felt scandalous standing here in the dark with her, holding her hand and telling her to break up with her boyfriend. He wasn’t a homewrecker by any means. Right now he sure felt like one.
Finally, when she was done crying, she took her hand away from his and wrapped it back around her waist. “Do you know what it feels like to be in love with someone?” she asked him so softly he almost didn’t hear her, and his train of thoughts diminished. She didn’t look him in the eyes once again, finding it too intimate to do so. 
“Yes.”
Her eyes widened a bit, and suddenly, she felt her heart sink in her chest. She wasn’t the only one who had fallen in love with someone else it seemed. To be upset about that was wrong, that much was obvious. Was it right for her to be upset when she had dated this whole time and he was alone? She scolded herself, angry for even having such thoughts.
“Really? You’re in love with someone?” 
“I’ve only ever been in love with one person almost my whole life, at least, I’m pretty sure it’s love,” he confessed, feeling his heart thump in his chest. He couldn’t believe he was telling her this. Her of all people did not need to know how he felt. He might end up letting it slip that the true object of his affections was her. This whole time, nearly three years of knowing each other, she was the one he longed for. “It used to make me feel so happy, but now it just makes me sick.”
“Why did you never tell me? We-we never used to keep secrets,” Y/N asked quietly, despite not having any right to question his privacy like that. She had more than enough secrets herself.
“Just wasn’t worth talking about.”
Silence for a moment, tense and frustrated silence besides the harsh post-cry breaths from her lips.
“Do they love you back?”
“My guess is no.”
“That sucks,” she breathed, letting out a breath of air she was holding. “Who is it?”
“You really don’t want to know, Y/N,” he told her. “You should be going to bed. It’s late and you have a lot of thinking to do.”
“O-okay. I guess you’re right. “ She took a few steps back, biting her lip. Her heart felt as if it beat loud and echoed in the hallway. Her head was spinning with thoughts and fears and a strange sense of hope. She cared for Hitoshi, more than she cared for anyone else. He was her best friend. The way he looked at her, she’d always wondered what it meant. He’d been in love for a while now. It all made her feel an awful kind of nauseous in the pits of her stomach.
She had one more question to ask. 
“Is the person you love me?”
And suddenly time stopped. He felt his heart skip a beat, and stress build up in his chest. Why would she ask that? Put him in that sort of position? He couldn’t betray Kirishima like that. He would never be the bad guy. He clenched his fist by his side, and  resisted the urge to tell her the truth, to confess everything he had ever felt, all the heartbreak and the jealousy and the long nights missing her. 
Instead, he lied. 
“No, it’s someone else. Now go to bed.” After he said those words, she didn’t even bother to say goodbye, she just walked away with her head hung low. She turned the corner to go to her dorm room and he stayed where he was. He rubbed his hand over his eyes and his nose, trying to calm himself down. 
After a couple seconds, Denki walked out from the living room. He shoved his hands in his pockets, looking to his friend who was obviously confused and upset. “Dude...”
“Kaminari, don’t say anything about it.”
“I swear, I won't,” he assured, raising his hands in front him innocently. “Listen, I-I don’t know how you’re feeling right now, Shinsou, but uh, if it means anything, I hope it gets better for you.”
The purple eyed boy looked down at his friend curiously. “What do you mean? Nothing is wrong with me.”
 Kaminari pushed his bands back over his head and sighed, “Trust me, we all saw how heartbroken you were when she started going out with Kirishima. It must suck to have to deny it over and over again.” His heart stung at the words, feeling so harsh and bitter in his ears. It had been a long time since he thought about the anger and frustration he felt toward the situation, how furious he was when he lost his chance, and how stupid he felt watching them together each day. To be so unloved. It felt so fucking pathetic. 
“I don’t really give a shit either way,” he mumbled.
The blond rolled his eyes, feeling the negativity roll of his friend in waves. “Yeah, okay.” 
“It’s really not important either way. What matters is that she’s happy, and no one fucking cheats on anyone. We’re all friends here, and I’ll make sure there are no mistakes on my end.”
There was silence for a moment, thoughts running through both their heads. They both knew how important this was to him, and the pain of his heartbreaking was almost palpable. He clenched his fist at his sides, trying not to lose his cool. He wasn’t going to let something like this ruin his life, even if it tried its hardest to. He still had her a friend, she still cared about him; why was he so upset? So what if they weren’t dating? He should just appreciate that. 
“If she breaks up with Kirishima...what then?” Kaminari asked tentatively.
“Most likely, nothing.”
“You won’t tell her?”
“Hell no.”
“Why?”
“It’s better to have her happy with me as a friend than to tell her how I feel and ruin everything. I’m content with what we have, and my parents are proud of me for having a friend like her. I don’t want to imagine if we had a fall out and suddenly she’s not there anymore. I’d be so ashamed and alone again.”
“What if she confesses to you?”
“Then I’ll give her all the love I have.”
__________________________________________________
 For days, Y/N had thought about the conversation she had to Shinsou the other night, where she confessed her falling out of love with her boyfriend. Her heart was confused, and it pained her to think that she would have to tell Kirishima soon. She found herself biting her nails more often and skipping meals out of stress. It was ridiculous to panic this much over something as trivial as a break up, but she was so afraid of breaking his heart.
Kirishima, since the beginning, was nothing but a sweetheart. He complimented her, and walked her to class, helped her with all her training, and made sure she was always content. He was tolerably affectionate while still being respectful. He made her smile, and that was a lot considering these past few years had brought anger and depression. He was so kind and sweet, and she hated doing this to him.
As she walked into the common room, she noticed it was practically vacant except for Uraraka and Tenya studying at the table and Kirishima munching on some chips by the television. He was peering down at his phone, scrolling through some photos. She bit her lip, peering behind her as if to escape the situation at hand. 
Was it time? Had she waited long enough to think her decision over? Was she still in love with him or had her feeling completely gone away? She felt strongly that she didn’t want to be in a romantic relationship with him, yet the impending life change of being single without the redhead by her side was daunting. She was scared of leading him on, but at the same time, the loneliness almost made her stay. 
After a long breath, she walked over to the couch and took a tentative seat beside him, maintaining a foot or so of distance between them which previously would have been filled, her squished to his side with his arm around her shoulders. 
“Hey, Y/N-chan,” he smiled, “Want some?” He held out his bag of snacks, only for her to shake her head. 
“What’re you looking at?” she asked, peeking over at his phone screen. He held it up, showing some family insta photos. “Ah, okay.”
“Yeah, my cousin uploaded some holiday photos, and I’m just going through them,” he commented, showing her another photo of him and his aunt at the beach wading through the ocean water. 
She opened her mouth to say something before shutting it, taking in the photo for another second. Kirishima looked great there, so full of life and free. Her heart clenched again, thinking about how, if she were to break up with him, she would miss those joyous smiles directed at her. She winced, avoiding eye contact, “You all look so happy.”
“Yeah, we were.” He nodded, shutting his phone off with a click. Carefully, it tucked the phone into his pocket and shifted in his spot to face her, one leg folding to rest on the couch while the other still hung off. “Speaking of which, I’ve been meaning to ask- You’ve been off lately. Sad.”
“I-I didn’t think you noticed. I’m sorry,” Y/N mumbled, finding her fingers in her lap very interesting all of the sudden. She felt his index finger tap gently on her shoulder, and her eyes slid up to meet his for a moment. He wasn’t upset. He held a soft smile on his face and his eyes hadn’t lost their shine. “I-I actually have something to tell you.”
“Yeah, me too.”
She raised her head, her eyes a bit wider than before. “Oh, okay. You can go first then.” Maybe he would say something that could convince her to stay with him, she thought. Maybe what he had to say could turn this entire thing around and make her change her mind, forget all her doubts. 
That was impossible, and she knew it.
“I think we should break up.”
She felt her heart stop beating in her chest. 
What?
That was one of the only things she hadn’t imagined coming out of his mouth. He still smiled at her as she spoke, and she felt shocked and tense. How could he be so calm, saying something like that? 
All she could muster out was a soft, “Why?”, too emotional to think of much else and speak it coherently. 
“Because you’re not in love with me, and that’s okay,” he sighed, placing a hand on the shoulder, his hand running up and down her arm soothingly. She felt the kind, but curious eyes of Ochako lift to watch the interaction, and Y/N couldn’t blame her for wanting to eavesdrop. Y/N was terrified. Despite his gentle and calm nature, she worried she had done something wrong to make him hate her, wanting to break up.
She whispered, “B-But, Eijirou, I do love you.” but, God, was she confused. She didn’t love him, but she didn’t want to deny years of her life either. “I-I don’t know anymore, but-”
“It’s okay. I know you aren’t in love with me,” he told her, stopping her from rambling on any longer. “It’s always been about him, hasn’t it?”
“Him?”
“Shinsou, obviously. We all could see how he felt about you, but I thought maybe you just saw him as a friend and I was willing to fall in love with you,” he sighed. “But, I knew you missed him. I knew you had a special relationship with him that you and I could never have.”
“Eijirou, you don’t understand. I always loved you. Shinsou was my friend, and yeah, I missed our close relationship, but I enjoyed every second with you. I loved you so much.”
“I know. I’m not saying you didn’t. I’m just saying that maybe you can love two people at the same time, and one person will always be more important deep down” he suggested. “You never cheated on me, of course. You’re not the type of girl, and Shinsou definitely isn’t the kind of guy to steal someone’s girl.”
“I-I’m so sorry,” she cracked, placing her hand over her eyes to avoid his. “I didn’t mean to fall in love with him. I wanted to be with you forever. God, I loved you so much, Eijirou.” Tears had pooled in her eyes and she let them drip down silently, soaking them up with the sleeve of her sweater. “I realized a couple months ago how I felt about him but I tried not to acknowledge it. I thought it was gone, but it’s not, and I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”
He reached over, wrapped his hand around her, moving her hand from her face. “It’s okay. Sure, I’m gonna miss you a lot, but it’s okay.”
“I don’t get it. Why aren’t you upset with me? I betrayed you,” she asked, staring into his eyes. He only eased further, his brows softening, fingers squeezing around her tighter. 
“I can’t even be mad. That guy, he loves you more than anything. He has since before I met you. You are his entire world, and I’d be damned to take that away from him.”
She stopped him, her brows furrowing. “Shinsou doesn’t like me like that. He told me himself.” She felt her becoming more confused than before. How could Kirishima be so sure about Shinsou’s feelings for her when they weren’t true? She did love Shinsou, that was the truth, but she didn’t have a chance with him.
“Are you kidding?”
Shaking her head, she assured him, “No. He told me he was in love with someone and it wasn’t me.”
“You should talk to him again. Like, go now. Find him.”
She shook her head, but he was already pulling her by the arm from the couch. “Baby, Y/N, I care about you, and I’m making you find Shinsou and be happy, and you better not fuck it up,” he explained, pushing her forward a bit so she stumbled away from the couch and toward the hall. She turned to look over her shoulder, the redhead smiling and waving for her to move forward with the task at hand. 
Ochako caught her eye, who was looking at her beside a bored Tenya. She sent over the shyest of smiles and nodded encouragingly. Y/N felt embarrassed, realizing that the entire class knew about their supposed connection before she did, and even now he had a hard time accepting it. Shinsou Hitoshi was not in love with her. It was impossible. He never mentioned it or let off that he cared for her anything other than a childhood friend. 
She pulled out her phone from her pocket, and searched for his contact. The dial rang in her ear, and she was tempted to hang up before he could answer, run to her room, and pretend nothing even happened. She feared so much change, and it seemed so much easier and safer to hide under her covers and sleep until everything went back to normal. 
“Hello?”
“Hitoshi, where are you?” she asked, her voice just barely quivering. 
“Uh, I’m outside on the lawn with Midoriya and Todor-”
She hung up the phone before he could say anything else. She rushed down the hallway, an urgency to each step she took, steps closer to the purple haired boy she cared so much for, her best friend. She was so scared, she could feel her teeth clicking and goosebumps bubbling up on her arms, the hairs standing on end into her long sleeves. The sun shining through the door was all too bright for such a situation, and she had to squint as she left the building out the backdoor. 
Indeed, across the lawn were the 3 boys, sitting together on the ground with empty bottles of water lying amongst them. Todoroki stood with a wet towel slung over his shoulder, sweat soaking through his tank top. Meanwhile, Midoriya sat with his notebook in front of him scribbling down quick notes no doubt things he’d taken note of during training moments before.
She felt exposed in front of the other boys, but honestly what other eyes could she care about than the violet ones drawn right on her scrambling figure. 
“Y/N, are you okay?” he asked as she approached. She came to sudden halt right at his feet, her arms crossed over each other to hug her torso tightly, trying to quell down the ripples of anxiety coursing through her. Now, as she stood in front of him, she felt excitement building up in her stomach, butterflies (as cliche as it sounds) tossing and turning. 
“Hitoshi, you lied to me, and-and you need to tell me the truth.”
“Lied? About what, Shinsou?” Midoriya asked, peeking up from his book for a moment to get in on the action.
Shinsou shook his head, not quite sure what she was talking about. He noticed the dried stains of tears on her cheeks, and the way her body was tucked inward, practically hiding from him. He racked his mind for answers, but he couldn’t think of that she could possibly be talking about. 
As she stared down at him, she felt power surge through her, courage to confront him. The words tumbled from her mouth before she could even think about censoring herself. It didn’t cross her mind that their friends were gathered around. The only thing she could think about was him. “You’re in love with me. You’ve always been in love with me, haven’t you?”
“Y/N, what-”
“Just tell me,” she said, “Kirishima just fucking broke up with me because of you.”
He stood from his spot on the ground, and suddenly he towered over her. Yet, she wasn’t intimidated. She just stared up at him as his face morphed into one of horror and shock. “Listen, Y/N, I had nothing to do with Kirishima breaking up with you. Don’t go blaming me-”
“He broke up with me because I’m in love with you. I love you, Hitoshi, Jesus, I really do.” It was completely silent. Midoriya sat there on the ground in shock, his mouth fallen open and his eyes widely staring at her. Shinsou only stood there, the words she had just spoken rolling through his mind over and over again. “I should have told you the other night when we talked, but everything you said changed my mind.”
When Kaminari suggested that she might confess to him, he completely brushed it off. There was no way she could feel the same way about him. They were friends. She dated people this whole time without ever showing any signs of wanting anything more than friendship. But somehow, everyone knew but him. 
“I-I thought I loved Eijirou, but it was always you. I feel so stupid not realizing all this time.”
He finally spoke, voice quiet, hesitant, “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Y/N, you really wasted 3 years of my life, didn’t you?” he asked. Her eyes widened, and she looked to him with surprise written all over her face. Was he angry, she worried, hugging herself tighter just in case. Before she could make a move, he had brought his hands up, one resting on her cheek while the other pressed to the back of her head, pinky finger skimming her neck and sending shivers down her spine. 
He leant down and pressed his warm lips to hers. Her entire body stiffened at the sudden and unexpected touch, but just as quickly as it came, he had relaxed into his grasp. For a moment, she kissed him back, lips moving ever so gently across his own, the smell of minty gum filling her senses.
As he pulled away, she relished in the taste of his tongue on her lips, running her own along her bottom lip. 
“I-I see,” she stuttered, not daring to make eye contact now after that. How embarrassing. 
“Yes, I lied,” he confessed, “I have loved you for so long, Y/N. God, I wish you would have realized sooner how you felt.”
She nodded, peering up into his eyes shyly. His shone so brightly with happiness and pride, and she felt her heart swell up in her chest. “I really missed you, Shinsou.”
“I missed you, too.”
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arthurflecksgirl · 4 years ago
Note
Hi sweety!🥰 could you please develope a prompt where x reader goes to Arthur's apartment for a coffee (they're only friends maybe?) and then she forgot her sweater (🥺) by him. so the next day he goes to her apartment to bring the sweater back to her. And idk if you want to add some cuddles or a cold weather and a warm tea🥺🥺🥺 thank you so much
Oh sweetheart, your request warmed my heart and it was so much fun to write it.  You know I have a weakness for sweater stories when it comes to our sweet Artie.Thank you so much. I really really hope you like it.
Pressing that elevator button felt different, knowing that you wouldnt go into your own apartment but ringing the bell on Arthur`s door. You knew each other since you moved into this building a few months ago but it took you weeks to finally make the first move and talk to him.
Arthur was a very shy man with intense eyes and a beautiful smile, which was hiding so much pain. You could tell from the way he was making jokes that he was sad. He was the kind of person who wanted to make others happy because he couldnt find happiness himself. Observing his loneliness made you sad. It hurt you to see that a wonderful man like him was all alone. Every since his mother was commited to Arkham state hospital he lived a lonely life in his dark apartment. Sometimes you could hear him laugh through the walls. It was a different kind of laughter, almost like he was in pain. One day he started laughing out of the blue and he handed this card to you, which said something about a condition. Maybe that was one of the reasons why he was too shy to interact with people. You have never seen him with someone else. Being his only friend felt special. Thats what you were. Friends. At least you thought so. Arthur never showed any kind of interest in being more than that. He was always very friendly, awkwardly shy and incredibly sad. Even when he was funny. Especially ehen he was funny.
You walked down the halls with a racing heart. You fell hard for this beautiful, sad soul. Just the thought of meeting up with him for a coffee made your knees weak. If only he knew if you were in love with him. But how could you vere tell him without risking his freindship? Maybe he prefered to be alone. Arthur always seemed like he could be scared away easily and you didnt wanted to. Just sitting beside him on his couch, feeling his presence was a gift. You could never risk to lose that.
Meeting up for a coffee after work was something you used to do pretty often now. Sometimes he would take you to the donut shop, even though he never ate one, but this time he invited you to come over to his place. Which felt so much more intimate.
You took a deep breath as you rang the doorbell.
"Coming" Arturs soft voice sounded like he was already smiling.
He opened the door. His brown curls matched his worn out chestnut sweater. A cigarette was tugged between his thin lips. He looked tired but his natural beauty was almost hurtful.
"Hi Y/N." his smile exposed his crooked tooth, which reminded you of how many nights you yearned for him to kiss you.
"Hey Arthur. I`m sorry I´m a bit late. I had to work longer today. "
"Its fine. I mean...I won`t go anywhere. I`m....here..." for a brief moment there was an awkward silence between the two of you. Then he turned around "Sit down...I mean....." he ran his fingers through his hair, appearently nervous ".....make yourself at home. I`ll make some coffee."
He headed into the kitchen while you sat down on the couch and took off your sweater.It was cold outside.Gotham city wasnt very pleasent during wintertime. The cold easily managed to get to your bones.
It was the 3rd time you every sat here. The fabric was old and faded, yellow and blue pillows decorated the corners. Along with  flowery and green sheets. Everything smelled like him. The scent of passion and romance. You always imagined Arthur to be a very romantic lover. The thought of that made you blush while he came back from the kitchen to hand you a hot cup of coffee.
"I`m sorry I only have these self made Murray Franklin show cups to offer you. Kinda embarassing." He took a sip of his own cup which looked exactly like yours , except for the handwritten letters looking a bit more shaky.
You turned the cup in yor hands "I think thats pretty sweet actually. Making your own cups of your fave tv show".
Arthurs eyes pierced you while he took another sip. The color of his eyes was everything.
"Yeah?"
"Sure!"
"You`re the only one who thinks so" he lit himself another cig and took a deep drag. His eyelids fluttered for a second. Details. details everywhere. Arthur was like a museum of details.
"My mother thought it was stupid. She said it reminds her of the fact that we dont even have enough money to buy the real cup."
You gave him a serious look "No, I really think its a creative thing to do. You are a creative guy."
His face lighted up "You think i´m crative? "
"Sure. You do write your own jokes, right?"
"Mhhh hmmmm, yeah"
"See? Very creative."
"Maybe I am" Arthurs left leg started bouncing and you caught yourself thinking how nice it would be to place your hand on his knee and make it stop by calming him down. You imagined how the fabric of his blue pants would feel under your fingertips. Or his naked skin...
Arthur sat close beside you, yet not close enough for his knee or arm to touch yours. You thought about how you could possibly touch him by accident. Feeling the fabcric of his clothes or his bare skin stroking yours was all you could think about.
He put the cup back on the table and looked at you in a way he never did before. His eyes focused you without blinking. Like the shyness within him was gone for a brief moment. You tried to mirror his stare, but it was impossible to look into his eyes without fighting  the urge to grab his face and kiss him. So you focused on the curl that was dancing in his neck instead. Not a good idea as well. Looking at this vulnerable part of his body only made you yearn for more.
You caught yourself looking away, which made you hate yourself. How could you possibly turn your head away when he was finally looking at you like that?
"You`re a party clown right?"
Arthur finally blinked "Yeah."
"I`d love to see some of your acts some day"
"I also do stand up comedy. Maybe you`ll come to Pogos when I perform next week?"
"Ohh Arthur, I would love that" and all of te sudden your hand was resting on his thigh. Arthurs muscles twitched under your soft touch. Like he wasnt used to being touched at all.
His smile said more than a thousand words "Wow, thats great news. I would love to see you in the audience. I will try to give my best performance for you. You know what Y/N? I´m gonna write a joke especially for you. Would you like that?"
Your hand was still on his leg. Touching him was magical. Like your hand was always supposed to be there. You nodded. Unable to say a word.
He looked at the back of yor hand like he couldnt belive that someone was actually resting his hand on him. You could tell from his eyes how touch starved he was.
All of the sudden Arthur got up. Your hand falling off his leg felt wrong.
"So I think I better work on that jokes now." he mumbled while he headed to his desk.
Right now? You felt the disappointment rising in your heart. He wanted you to leave?
"They better be good if you`re gonna be a part of the audience!" he added.
"Okay Arthur. It was nice to have a coffee with you. Im sure your new jokes will turn out incredibly funny.""
He smiled his sweetest smile while he grabbed the pen, looking like he was already about to concentrate.
"You know, I wrote this joke last night but I havent figured out the punchline yet. Punshlines are important. And facial expessions. I feel like I always get them wrong. And I have to look into peoples eyes more often."
"Sounds like a great plan, Arthur. "
"Thank you Y/N. I`m trying. I really do."
"I know"
"I want my stand ups to be good enough for the big clubs." he pressed his journal to his chest.
"I`m sure some day you will be well known. Everyone will  know the name Arthur Fleck and think of a grea comedian".
You noticed his eyes watering as he walked you to the door "Even kids?"
"Sure?"
"That would be sweet"
You wrapped his arms around him as you said our goodbyes "So, I`ll see you next week at Pogos?" he asked.
"Definitely!"
Your hug felt a little too tight for being just friends and you hoped he didnt noticed.
It felt a little too long too, but you couldnt help but trying to get a nose full of the smell of his soft curls.
Arthur looked after you before he closed the door behind him.
You walked down the hallway to get to your own apartment and immediately missed him.
Twenty minutes later you found yourself lying on your bed, realizing that you forgot your sweater on his couch. Should you gt over and  get it? You decited not to. He porobably was working on his jokes right now and you didnt wanted to bother him. So instead of visiting him one more time you just disappeared under the blanket and dreamed of him for the rest of the night.
The next day felt like a fever dream. Fantasizing about Arthurs lips and hands for the whole night left you with a strange feeling in your chest. Was it wrong to think of him that way? You thought about your sweater and how it was lying in Arthurs apartment for the whole night. You wondered if he left it lying on the couch and if he was still sleeping on the couch now that Penny was at the hospital? You couldnt concentrate while working at all. Your beautiful neighbor filled your mind with so many questions and daydreams. Daydreaming about him became something that helped you to get through the day. Just thinking of him chuckeling made you feel warm and fuzzy inside, like nothing could harm you anymore.
This man was magic.
And you wanted him so bad.
Somehow the day passed by like every day does and you found yourself alone in the bathroom, looking at the mirror, wondering if you were even his type of girl. You had no idea in what kinda girls he was into.
And just as you started wondering someone knocked at your door. Was it possible...?
You nervously hurried up to open it.
It was him.
Arthur was standing in front of you, holding your sweater in his hands.
"Hi Y/N. I dont know if you noticed but... you forgot your sweater yesterday and I didnt wanted to bother you and...."
"Ohhh Arthur. Thats so sweet of you. Yeah I noticed. Thank you."
You could swear that he was about to blush.
"You wanna come in?"
Arthur nodded while he stumbled through your door.
"Make yourself comfy, I am right back" you smiled as he sat down in the living room.
You disappeared in the bathroom, pressing your face into your sweater to see if it smelled differently. It did. There was a hint of Arthurs cologne on it. His flowery shampoo and the smell of smoke. Your sweater smelled like him.
You buried your face deeper into the fabric and breathed in.
It was your piece of clothing but it felt like it was his. Breathing in the scent that was so him was the most intimate moment of your entire life. Was that what it feels like to fall asleep in his arms? To cuddle with him on the couch while watching his fave comedy shows on the screen? Was that what he smelled like under his clothes? His bare skin? Was that the scent that would surrowd you while making love to him?
Your thoughts went all over the place while you rubbed the fabric against your blushing cheeks.
"Y/N? Are you okay?"
Arthurs voice woke you from your daydreams "Oh, yeah sure. Just got to use the bathroom. I´ll be right back"
"Okay! "
A minute later you sat beside him on the couch, the sweater still in your hands.
Arthur stared at it. His hands lay on his lap while he played with his own fingers.
"I have to admit something" he said "It`s so embarrassing. I dont even know how to tell you...."
"You can tell me anything, Arthur"
"There is a stain on your sweater now. It was me. I`m so sorry. I ruined it. Its face paint. I still got it on  my fingers after I cleaned my brushes. " he showed you the spots where he stained it.
Traces of him.
This somehow made you very emotional.
Its was his sweater now.
Through and through.
"Thats okay, Arthur. Dont worry. I dont mind."
"Really?" he seemed surprised.
"I dont mind at all !"
He shrug "Well there is another thing.... after I noticed you forgot your sweater on my couch... there was a reason I didnt came over to hand it to you last night. Its so embarrassing, oh my god..."
You giggled "Okay? Why didnt you?"
"I....put it on" Arthur buried his face in his hands "Sorry, dont hate me. Please. I put your sweater on and I slept in it." His legs started to bounce.
You coudlnt belive what you just heard. That was the cutest thing you could have imagined.
"Arthur,really? You slept in my sweater?"
He exposed his face.
"I know...I know....its...I`m sorry. Now you must think I`m a total freak or a stalker or something." He looked down on the floor, way too shy to look you in the eyes while he started to bite his nails.
"Actually I think thats pretty cute." you chuckled. The blood was rushing to your face. This man really got under your skin.
"What? Are...are you serious? You´re not mad at me? You dont think i´m a freak?"
"I could never think you`re a freak. I´m glad you told me. Now I`m going to tell you something much more embarrassing, okay? So you see that you are not the only one."
Arthur gave you an insecure look "Okay?"
"When I was at the bathroom before, I sniffed my sweater because I hoped it would smell like your apartment."
"I`m sorry if it smells like smoke now."
"Noooo not because of that! I wanted it to smell like... you!"
Arthurs eyes filled with love "You mean...."
You nodded as your eyes watered "I`m in love with you ever since I saw you for the first time. I just didnt knew how to tell you."
Arthur fell into your arms "Me too Y/N. Oh god.....me,too."
You pulled him closer. You never noticed how tiney he was in your arms. How fragile.
"Why havent you told me?" you asked him, while his face was buried in your neck.
"I didnt wanted to boter you. People often feel bothered by me. They think I`m weird. I was glad you even talked to me. Those short coffee breaks meant the world to me."
"Artie, this is just....I`m speechless."
He chuckled, now facing you "You just called me Artie".
"I know. Thats what I called you in my head all the time".
"I could get used to that" he smirked, which made his lip scar show even more intense.
"I cold call you Artie all night if you want to stay. " you whispered into his ear.
"I would love to. I mean its cold outside and some cuddles and warm tea would be nice..."
"Or some kisses" you added.
"Or some kisses....." Arthur turned his face to the left and put your face between his gentle hands.
His lips on yours felt even better than in your fantasy.
His taste filling your mouth was all you ever wanted.
And as you both fell into the pillows  you buried your face into his curls and took a deep breath of Arthur Fleck.
@impulsiveclown @ben-solos-writing-avenger @jokerownsmysoul @missjoker96 @arthurskitten @lynnesm @nonnymousse @gwynplaine89 @damnrightobsessedwithim @sgtsavoytruffle  @duhliriouss @sadjesterautumn @therealjokerking10 @flowerglitterwoman @thirstforfleck @spookyhome @iartsometimes  @you-cant-cry-in-here @bustafatclownnut @jokerismyhubbie @jokerflecker  @check-out-this-joker @darknessisafriend  @nicoleverse @mdme-rosary @arthurhappyclown    @neon-umbrella-for-stella   @cherrymoon75 @call-me-harley-quinn  @arthurjokersgirl
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nekowriteshaikyuu · 4 years ago
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paper airplane
 if you need to talk, i’m always here.
pairing : sugawara x reader
a/n : OMGOMGOMGOMGOMG. I know i’m exaggerating but thank you so much for 100 notes on my previous post  couple’s necklace  !!  i woke up and i just- i freaking flipped. thank you so much X33. i refuse to do any homework because- i don’t want to huhhuhuhu. but yeah,,,enjoy some wholesome hc with sugamama >w<
disclaimer again: you know the drill. but yeah apologies again if it don’t match ze chawacterr.
---------<3
you were in despair. you felt empty, hurt, unwanted when your 1 year relationship with the boy you most certainly adore left you for someone else. you stared at the picture frame of the both of you together, smiling, holding each other’s hands happily. how could he ?
you wiped your tears and looked out the window that was just infront of your desk. You looked at the opposite building which was blocking the sky. you sighed and just as you were about to leave your desk to grab a glass of water. a paper airplane flew through your window. 
you looked out your window only to realised all the other windows are closed and you lived at quite a high level so there’s no way someone threw it from below.
You were about to throw it away when you saw some blank ink on it. you unfolded the paper airplane up
‘are you okay?’ was written bodly in blank in. you looked at the bottom of the paper and saw what it seems like a phone number.
‘you can always talk to me:)’ 
you were feeling a little skeptical, thinking it’s just some perverted man trying to get laid or something. but nonetheless you pulled out your phone, dialing the number in with a contact name “paper airplane thrower” what a name lmao 
it took a few hours before you had the guts to text this person. 
‘hi,,,i caught your paper airplane.’ you threw your phone on the bed, thinking this person would never answer. Maybe they forgot? Maybe it was an accident? or a dare? either way, you just walked around your room, admiring all the small decorations that were scattered everywhere in your room. It wasn’t long enough before you heard your phone dinged. For some reason you rushed to your phone, unlocking it and saw that the unknown user replied back
‘hey !! sorry if you’re weirded out, i just saw you crying and i was kind of worried. though we are complete strangers. anyways, i’m sugawara btw !’ you both chatted for the whole day, getting to know each other more. his choice of words always brings you a smile. ‘don’t worry’, ‘that’s awesome !’, ‘you’re so cool!’, ‘heheh’, all these simple texts just gives you the most widest smile ever.
This goes on for days to weeks. Somehow, you both had never gone a day without texting each other ever since the incident. Texts turn into voice messages, and soon to calls. Both of you were on the phone for hours. and if ever one of you fall asleep, you’d just continue the call, listening to the soft snores or the bed rustling.
If ever something happen during school, you’d always come home and straight away give him a call which he would immediately answer. you can never have a day without hearing from him. you really love his presence, his voice, his laugh,,,maybe,,him too.
one day you felt like visiting him. After school you decided to take a trip to his school, karasuno. It’s gonna be a journey for you to find him with just the recognition of his voice since he never send you a photo of himself or even switch on his camera. You were abit scared if ever he’s catfishing or a creep impersonating as a teenager.
he mentioned he had volleyball practice so you spent some time in a cafe, recollecting your thoughts and building the courage to actually meet him in person. After a while, you headed of to his school
Your slowly entered, afraid someone might caught you. But you manage to make your way in and find the volleyball gym when you heard the sounds of volleyballs bouncing off the ground. You slowly walked to the gym and immediately felt the chills. 
You kind of lost confidence so you decided to just head back home and wait till he contacts you. But before you could even take a step, you heard the creak of the metal door slide and a bunch of boys came walking out. You flinched and your presence brought attention to all the boys.
“uh- sorry, are you lost? you don’t seem like you school here” a tall guy with a man bun and a small beard asked. He looked so intimidating. you backed away slowly, giving a weak smile
“ah ! s-sorry ! i uh, have to go” but even before you could bail from the boys, a hand caught you and pulled you in. You squeeled and shut your eyes close, afraid of what’s going to happen next.
“y/n?” his voice...it’s so heart-warming. something you’ve yearn for the whole day. you looked up to see the boy with soft, gray hair and clear, glossy eyes.
“what are you doing here? hehe, silly. miss me that much?” he gave a warm smile. somehow it felt like the same smile you could fell when calling sugawara, even without seeing it once. it’s him. it really is him.
“suga...” you gave him a warm, tight hug which shocked the boys from behind. He slowly placed one of his hands behind your back, while the other slowly carress your head.
“there, there, i didn’t know you’d be visitng me ! this is a huge surprise” you pulled the hug away to see his smile pasted on his face again. your heart have never beated so fast before, faster than when you were with your past lover. something about him just makes you skip a beat all the time.
he turned to see his teammates in awe.
“ah, right. guys! meet y/n ! i met her- uhh,,uhmm-”
“by a paper airplane he threw through my window when i was crying over an ex.” you continued which made him slightly embarressed, rubbing his nape.
“....”
“aah! you’re the girl suga keeps talking about!” the boy with a strand on blonde hair at the front spoke, he began to lift his brows as he slowly turn to suga
“uh who?” the oranged haired asked
“the girl.” 
“...AAH! YOU’RE SUGA’S LONG TIME CRU-” 
“hehe, y/n! do you mine waiting me by the gate? we’ll go home together.” he covered the mouth of the oranged haired boy before he could continue. you nodded and skipped to the gate.
“hinata....you almost made me dig my own grave” suga sighed with relieved.
“heheheh”
you didn’t wait for too long before you saw suga running towards you. You both walked home in silence before he broke it.
“ the stars are pretty today.” you looked up, and nodded in agreement. You recalled what the little tangerine head said and was really curious in what he meant.
“hey,, what did that tangerine head meant when he said you had a crush on me?” he chocked on his own saliva. His cheeks flushed red immediately. 
“e-eh? what do you mean?” he tried to play it off, changing the subject about how his body was aching from practice.
“koushi, i’m not dumb. i know what he was trying to say.” he knew he was defeated. he sighed, before looking up at the sky again as he spoke.
“ well,,,i’ve actually known you before. We..passed by each other at the convenient store once. I was crying, and you were there to buy me tissue and a small melon bread. i guess,,,,i liked you since then? i opened my window one day and saw you. i havent seen you since the incident for months. You were crying, just like how i was. i can’t possibly come up to your door so i drew a paper airplane down. Surprisingly it landed right into your window, and i chickened out so i shut mine. i never thought you’d actually contact me. but when you did,,my heart was pounding like crazy. I guess ever since then i just wanted to give you all my attention, since it was the only way i could show my love for you..” he fiddled with his fingers and looked down at the ground. You couldn’t help but giggle from his cute confession.
“haa koushi, you’re so cute. i guess- i can say i feel the same.” 
“w-wait what?” he looked at you, and you couldn’t help make the first move.
“wanna date?”
“IT’S THAT EASY?! but...i wanted to ask you that..” 
“then, i would have said yes.” you gave him the warmest smile which he returned with his.
“then it’s a yes for me too.” he grabbed your hand and pulled you slightly closer.
“i look forward to the future with you, y/n” he whispers to your ear.
“koushi...that’s so cheesy !!” you playfully smack his shoulder.
but you don’t deny it, you as well look forward to the future, with him by your side.
a/n: Omg i had so much distractions writing this while listening to vocaloid so it turned out super whacky and just- not up up to my standard im so sorry TmT. also sorry my stories are like super duper long, i’ll maybe add a word count next time (keyword: maybe sjsjj) But these few days i’m kind of dry with story ideas, so feel free to send in some requests !! i’d take some time if i’m ever free to go through and try to write some of your requests !! again, thank you so so much for 100 notes on my previous post, it really made my day !! X33 <3333
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erismerald · 5 years ago
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𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐲 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 (jacob frye x reader)
heyooo guys, here I come to bring another little story. to change the fandom a little this time I bring on this trip into the past Jacob Frye. this story is dedicated to @noromeojulliet  , I hope you like it, my love!!!
However I have to warn you again that English is not my first language and the text may contain errors, if you see any error I would be grateful if you told me!!!
GOOD READING!!!!
________________________________________________________________
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: semi mature, romance, semi explicit content
It was about 10 o'clock at night, I had already finished my tasks on the train and was already going to my carriage.
I was already living with the frye brothers and their partners for 6 months, they welcomed me when no one else did.
mr.frye always made me very nervous, he was very affectionate with me at first, but when i began to live with them i realized that he was like that with all of them.
From the moment I started living with them, Jacob moved away from me and without saying anything he started being cold to me. But still…i continue to be in love with him. I loved talking to him and listening to his crazy ideas, and always worried when he got hurt. he was 3 years older than me and I felt...I don't know, maybe nervous and anxious every time I thought about being closer to him.
 he was very attractive and loved to flirt with any woman that passed by him, and I noticed sometimes how he looked at me.but never said anything about it.
 on the way to my carriage evie passed me and greeted me.
 "Good evening Y/n, is everything all right?" she said with a nice look.
 "Good evening, miss evie, yes it's all right, just tired and you?" I said with a fond smile
 "also my dear... ah if you see, jacob please tell him I'm looking for him" she said a little upset
 "Have he gotten into trouble again?" I said laughing
 "Yes, in big trouble…”she sighed “ sometimes  he doesn't even look he had 23… but that's it, dear, good night," she said affectionately.
 I wished her good night and walked to my carriage when it started raining a lot.
I went in and started to put on my pajamas, I was singing a little, after doing everything I sat down in front of the mirror and dyed my hair, until I dared a huge thunderstorm outside.
The light of the lightning invaded the sky, I liked thunder a lot, it left me quite calm and even helped me sleep better.
 I had a little candle near me, and used it to read some letters that my sister had sent me, until I heard a huge noise at the door.
 I got up quickly and ran to see what was going on, and when I opened the door I saw jacob all soaked, and with some scratches.
 "Mr. Frye? What happened?" I said worried, not that it wasn't norrmal he shows up like that, but at my door...
 "May I come in?" he asked with a bit of a sarcastic look.
 "Sure, come in," I walked away from the door a bit to give him space to pass, and after closing the door I put myself in front of him.
"What happened?" I asked him again, helping him remove his coat.
 "I was fighting with some ignorant guys near the train line and I ended up falling to the thames...and to get better it started raining" he took a short break "I lost the key to my carrige and at this moment, I don't want to hear evie complaining about my inresponsibility... what I want to say is..."
I noticed in his gaze that he was quite uncomfortable, and could feel a cold nearby, so I interrupted his thought.
 "Yes, you can stay here, mrs. frye, I'll help you in any way I can" I spoke in a loving voice, in order to show him sympathy.
 I know...he could be a huge idiot with me and everyone else, but he was a good person, just a little irresponsible and childish at times, but at that moment he needed help, and I wouldn't refuse to help him, since he was the one who gave me shelter, and since he is my boss.
 "Thank you my love" he answered with joy.
"The first thing to do is to get out of these wet clothes, I must still have some of your clothes here that Miss Frye told me to sew" I said as I headed to the small compartment where the bathtub was, filling it with hot water.
 When Jacob came out he's already removed his shirt, leaving his chest showing... he was very attractive and muscular, no wonder almost all the women in London had already gone to bed with him...but I still couldn't get it on...I felt my face burn, but luckily he didn't notice that part.
 "It's all ready mr.frye... if you need anything you can call me" I said and he nodded to the bathroom.
 While I was waiting for him to leave I started to prepare my bed so he could sleep, I didn't mind sleeping on the little sofa. I was distracted by my own thoughts when Jacob called me.
 "Y/n love, can you come over here and help me?" I put down my bedding and headed to the bathroom.
 When I walked in he was still in the bathtub, and I turned on my back, my heart was beating very fast and ruthlessly.
 "y-yes? what can I do for you?" I asked a little nervous
 “im a little tired and sore from the fall you'll help wash my back?" I could feel the malicious smile on his face even with my back turned.
 "s-sure mr.frye" I turned slowly and took a deep breath... I couldn't panic or be ashamed, it's my job.
I approached him and knelt down slowly, still shaking hands of course, it's not that I've never been near a naked man before, but he made me super nervous.
He was already with his back to me that made me a little calmer.
 I took the little sponge and plunged into the water, and started rubbing his back, and shoulders... he was very muscular and had a lot of scars, and that made me remember the adventures he told me.
 It was a very uncomfortable silence, I felt my hands shaking immensely, and when I finished my work I was going to get up when Jacob held me by the hand.
"thank you my dear... but I still have one more favor to ask you." he paused and climbed his hand up my cheek "as you can see I'm having some injuries, if you could help me with this"
 "of course, it's just better to get out of the water first" I laughed a little nervously and prayed to god to get out of there fast
"Of course I'll be out of here in minutes," he replied as I left the bathroom.
 I ran out of the bathroom and started looking for something to help heal the minor injuries.
 When I found a small first-aid kit, I grabbed it and put it on the bed, even though Jacob came out of the bathroom with only his pants on.
 "Could you please sit down here" I asked quietly, again trying to ignore the fact that he was shirtless.
"okay doctor" was serious? he was flirting with me? I laughed a little and looked in the mirror, I was flushed and could see my breathing speeding up.
 when he sat on the bed i sat down next to him and grabbed his arm
"ouch" he moaned in pain "that's really sore hum" he said laughing a little but I still noticed the expression of pain on his face.
 "I'm sorry mr.frye, but to tell you the truth it's pretty bad," I tried to make a confident voice.
 "Please stop calling me mr.frye, make me look like an old man and I'm only three years older than you, you can call me jacob," he said staring at me... for a few seconds our eyes crossed and I quickly turned my head.
 "s-sure... sorry ahm you know…you are my boss and its an habit. I thought calling you "mr.frye" was more respectful"
 "So you just see me as your boss?" he asked sarcastically.
 "No... I mean yes... sometimes ? I don't know very well excuse me" I started to laugh to calm down
 "It's okay, but I've never seen you as a maid, I've always seen you as a friend... sometimes even more than that," he said, grabbing my hand and holding his arm.
 "What do you mean?" I looked into his eyes with a little shame.
 "You know... you're the only woman I haven't been able to hold in my arms yet, you're harder than the others," he said by putting his hand on my face again.
 I couldn't deny that I wanted him... I couldn't deny that I was attracted to him but there was nothing I could do.
As much as I wanted to have him, I wouldn't last another night.
And I don't want that for myself, I don't want to get hurt like that.
 "Can you say something?" His voice brought me back to reality and looking into his eyes again...and then I could see deep in his eyes that he was being sincere...he was nervous because he could also see that his breathing was speeding up.
 "Sorry Jacob... I don't want to be just another one on your list, I'm sorry..." I said honestly but deep down I didn't want to hurt him and even less maim my feelings
 "I don't want you to be another one on my list” he stopped and quickly laid me on the bed underneath him.
have the view of jacob frye on top of me, it was exciting, but I didn't know if that was right, I didn't want to end up getting hurt " I want you to be with me all the time Y/N... Since we met I've always tried to impress you, but you never surrendered to anything. Then I started using other women to forget about you and that wasn't right in my mind, and for a while here I feel like I was cheating, I really love you Y/N! "He was telling the truth, his eyes weren't lying to me, at that moment I was happy and nervous at the same time.
 "I love you too, to be honest, but I was never able to talk to you because I thought I had no status" and without warning a silence remained in the air, and the only noise was the sound of rain falling, the only light was the little candle, and yet I could see love on Jacob's face.
 Without saying a word Jacob lowered himself and kissed me, a slow kiss but full of feeling, we both yearned for this and that kiss was just the beginning.
His kisses went down to my neck, and when we noticed already our moans and clothes were scattered all over the room. with time the candle went out and the dark involved the two bodies, which unified.
 The sensation of his skin on mine, the sensation of his lips going through every piece of my being was exciting, the erotic sounds coming out of his mouth, and the force he exerted on me, were driving me crazy.
 A few hours later I woke up with the sun caressing my face, and next to me was Jacob, smiling
 "thank you for helping me... thank you for being by my side... and thank you for being mine, my love."
 "You're welcome love" from that day my heart had won an owner and I had become the owner of the heart of jacob frye
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dylinski · 5 years ago
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Doppelganger Series
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(moodboard made by @fan-child​  ♡ ♡)
Spitting Image (Part Five)
Warnings: Language, mild violence, graphic depictions of death (not a main character), the sheriff has a mental breakdown, stiles has a minor panic attack, LOTS OF ANGST, but also some funny shit, inappropriate use of “doppelganger sandwich” (don’t judge me)
Relationships: some Lytch (Mitch/Lydia)
Word Count: 10.2K (#sorry not sorry - don’t expect them to get any shorter)
Author: @dylinski
A/N: here’s the next part. took me a while and i kept changing things and adding things and removing things so apologies. theres just so much going on and so much i want to say. this chapter explains a lot more about the druid and who he is, although i may leave you with new questions lol. im trying to throw some romance in for you guys, but its just not really fitting in so i’ll keep trying. who do you want to see together?? not to sound like a comment whore, but feedback is tremendously appreciated since i’ve almost abandoned this story numerous times. heh. ALSO, big thanks to @sterekficrecs​​ for proofing this chaotic mess for me.  ♡ ♡ ♡
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Lydia ran over to Scott who was holding Stiles’ limp body as Mitch followed close behind. She fell to her knees and grabbed his arms while examining him. Mitch looked over to Thomas who was standing stiffly, hugging himself, and shot a hard look before he heard Scott shouting his name.
“Mitch! Stiles’ dad is coming with the cops. You need to take Lydia and Thomas and get out of here. NOW!” Scott’s voice was strained and panicked. Mitch just gave him a curt nod of understanding and reached down to tentatively touch Lydia’s shoulder.
They were all panicking, honestly, after what they just saw. Stiles, weak, skinny and defenseless Stiles, just lit up like a Christmas tree and took out a swarm of armed guards and a whole building, but there was so much happening that none of them had the time to process it correctly. Lydia was whimpering next to Stiles, clinging to him and begging him to wake up. Mitch went in to grab her, but she pulled away not wanting to leave his side. Scott and Mitch exchanged looks when the alpha decided to speak up.
“Lydia, he’s okay. I can hear his heart beating. He’s breathing. Ambulances are going to be here any second and I’ll make sure that he gets to one, but you need to go with Mitch and Thomas. We can’t have two doppelgangers running around Beacon Hills alone.” Mitch pursed his lips at the boy and rolled his eyes, but Lydia nodded and stood up. She chewed on her bottom lip and looked at Mitch with anguish. Mitch would be lying if he said he wasn’t jealous, but he also understood. They were close and everything pointed to Stiles being hopelessly in love with the girl.
Lydia walked over to the third doppelganger who was lost in his own mind. “Thomas?” He jumped at her light touch on his arms that were cradling his chest. “We should go. You can come with us.” Still not entirely sure what was happening, or if any of it was even real, Thomas nodded and followed them to Lydia’s car.
“Isaac,” Scott called out, “I’m going to stay here with Stiles. Go find Allison, I’ll call you if we need anything.” Isaac took the orders from his alpha and nodded as he turned on his foot and ran towards the building to find his girlfriend.
One minute later, sirens were blaring and the first cop cars pulled into the large backlot with their flashing lights veiling everything in reds and blues. Stiles was still unconscious, laying in Scott's arms. Scott waved to the vehicles, signaling them to his position as the Sherrif’s SUV stopped. Stiles' dad jumped out before the thing had even fully stopped, door wide open and the engine still running.
“Stiles! Stiles!” He ran to his son and leaned down, pulling him from Scott’s arms. “What happened to my son!?” The sheriff’s words came through gritted teeth that were laced with fear and anger.
Before Scott could answer, Stiles was swept up into his father's arms and being carried away towards an ambulance that had just parked. A paramedic climbed out of the back and met them halfway. They laid Stiles on a gurney and were running tests and making sure he wasn’t injured or bleeding. Scott cautiously lingered nearby to make sure his friend was, in fact, okay. The medic was asking the sheriff some questions about Stiles’ medical history when the boy groaned. Everyone stopped and jolted their attention to him. The medic was throwing questions at him, “Stiles? Can you hear me? Do you know where you are?” He shined a light into his eyes and Stiles raised his hand to block it out.
“What?” He sat up on his elbows and everything started to come back. “Yeah. Yeah, I know where I am.” He groaned again as he moved, his whole body aching like he just ran a ten-mile marathon. The paramedic checked out Stiles some more before he was satisfied with the boy’s state, then he headed towards the group of other boys being guided out through the gaping hole in the building.
“Stiles…” Noah spoke softly to his son.
Stiles adjusted himself again, wincing subtly while sitting up, “I’m okay dad really--”
The soft look of fear on his father's face turned to rage when he was content with his safety and he cut off his son. “What were you thinking!?” Stiles halted and his eyes grew wide as he stared at his father. “If you think I don’t know it was you who left the ‘anonymous’ tip, you’d be sorely mistaken. What were you even doing here, Stiles?” His father finally took a breath and the young boy pouted his lips with raised eyebrows, waiting to make sure it was safe for him to speak.
“We were…” Stiles looked over to Scott as he rubbed the back of his neck, trying to soothe out a kink. Scott just gave him a face that read, ‘don’t look at me’. Stiles rolled his eyes and looked back to his father who was still fuming. He opened his mouth to speak when deputy Parrish ran up.
“Sheriff, we found forty-nine boys in the sublevel basement…” Parrish tore his eyes from Noah and looked to Stiles for a short second, “...just like the anonymous tip said.” Awesome, Jordan knew it was Stiles who called too.
The sheriff scrunched up his features, similar to the way Stiles does so often and turned back to his son. With a pointed finger, he spoke harshly, “I’m not finished with you,” then he followed Parrish to the building.
Scott walked over to his friend and started to chuckle. “Shut up, man,” Stiles whined as he reached out with yearning fingers for his friend to help him off the gurney. He hopped down and wobbled a bit before he found his balance. They started to walk to the jeep when Stiles looked over to the missing wall of the building, stopping in his tracks. He turned to Scott with a questioning brow and eyes full of confusion.
Scott looked just as baffled, “What?”
“The wall! What happened to it?” Stiles gestured towards the hole demandingly.
“You don’t remember?” Stiles shook his head, thinking he would never forget something like that. They both started for the baby blue vehicle again when Scott asked, “What’s the last thing you remember?”
Stiles stilled abruptly and tipped his head in thought, “We were running from the guards with Thomas and— Wait, how did we get out?” Scott looked at the ground and scuffed his shoe against the pavement thinking he really didn’t want to poke that bear right now, especially since he didn’t fully understand what had happened himself. Stiles picked up on it and shrugged his shoulders as they took the few steps left to the jeep and got in, headed for his house.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lydia used her key that Stiles gave her forever ago to unlock the door to the Stilinski home and they went up into Stiles’ room. Mitch guided Thomas by his bicep up the stairs and gruffly pushed him to sit on the edge of the bed as Lydia paced back and forth. Mitch walked over and blocked her path as he grabbed her shoulders and held her at a distance. She was worrying her bottom lip between her teeth and picking at her cuticles apprehensively.
“Hey, hey. Look at me.” Lydia was avoiding his gaze, but Mitch touched a light finger to her chin, lifting her head up to meet his eyes half-heartedly. “It's going to be okay. He’s going to be okay.” She gave him a soft smile just as Thomas cleared his throat and stood up.
“Is anybody going to tell me what the hell is going on?” Thomas was beyond confused and frustrated. It was like being thrust into the maze all over again with no memory, but this time his only memories were that of the world he had left behind, a vague fog veiling them like a distant dream.
Lydia walked over to him and took a deep breath, composing herself. “We need to wait for Stiles, he’ll explain everything when he gets here.” “Who? Crazy glow stick boy!?” Mitch snorted at the statement and Lydia shot him a hard look before she turned back to Thomas and rested her hand on his shoulder.
“Yes. He knows what happened to you, but we don’t, so we’re going to just have to wait.” Lydia offered assurance.
Thomas let out a long huff and frustration filled him to the brim. “Why won’t anyone tell me anything!? This is bullshit! You guys know something! Why did Stiles call that kid with the red eyes a werewolf? Why did he have red eyes? How did he have claws? What happened to Stiles? Why did he light up? What the hell is he? Why do I look like him? Why do I look like you? What the hell is a doppelganger and why did the glowy eye kid call me one? Why was I in that place? Why can’t I remember anything other than the maze? What were they doing to me?”
Thomas was shouting his spew of questions and stepped too close into Lydia’s personal space. Before he could spit out any more queries Mitch was at him in less than a second. He pushed the smaller boy back onto the bed hard, stepping between him and Lydia. He let out a small growl at the kid’s face immediately melted into compliance.
Lydia groaned and pressed her hand to her forehead. She glowered at Mitch and he rolled his eyes, then turned to the other boy to make a threatening glare and stepped away. Thomas responded with a mocking face and crossed his arms.
“Thomas, we’re going to answer all your questions, okay?” Lydia’s voice was soft now and she gave him an easy smile. “We just need—”
“Yeah, yeah. I get it. We just need to wait for Stiles.” Thomas rolled his eyes and was done talking to both of them.
There were a couple of minutes filled with silence before they heard the front door open then two sets of hard footsteps trailing towards the bedroom. The door swung open and Stiles halted in its frame, giving Lydia a look of confusion. “Whaaaat are you guys doing here?”
Lydia flared her nostrils and looked to Scott who just shrugged. When no one said anything, she threw her arms up and finally answered. “Well, I’m not taking them to my house. Where else am I supposed to take a bunch of doppelgangers?”
Stiles nodded in annoyed agreement as Thomas stood up in frustration. “There’s that word again! What the hell is a doppelganger!?” Mitch started towards the boy, but Lydia held her arm out to stop him. He relaxed at her touch, but only slightly. Stiles was about to answer Thomas when the front door opened again and everyone froze.
“STILES. GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE.” It was his dad.
Everyone stood in motionless silence as eyes traded skittish glances between the five of them. When no one moved to come up with a solution, Stiles rolled his eyes and groaned. “You three stay here and be quiet.”
Lydia shot him a look and whisper-shouted, “Well, obviously.” Stiles made a mocking smile and walked off, then Scott closed the bedroom door with his lips in a thin line and followed him downstairs.
Stiles rushed down the steps and saw his father standing in the living room with his fingers holding the bridge of his nose. He looked up to see the two boys as he pulled in his lips and shook his head. He waggled his finger at them, “You two…” Stiles held up his hands in surrender as his father pointed to the couch and ordered them to sit down. His dad followed and sat in the armchair diagonally from them.
They all sat in silence for a time while Stiles’ father collected his thoughts, making no attempt to mask his fury. Eventually, his father found enough strength to speak calmly, but his voice was still jagged and laced with ire. “What were you two doing there?” 
Stiles and Scott looked perplexed as they exchanged glances. “Would you believe we were in the neighborhood?” Stiles shrugged with an optimistic grimace. A throaty grumble sounded from his father.
Obviously, Noah wasn’t going to get a straight answer, so he moved on to the next question. “How did you know about the kids?”
Stiles winced, “Lucky guess?” His father lost the little composure he had left and shot a look that could kill at his son.
“Would either of you like to explain to me the missing wall!?” 
Stiles raised his hands and smirked, “Uh, that one I actually have no idea.” The sheriff looked to Scott who was scared shitless. Again, not poking that bear yet. Stiles just rolled his eyes at his friend, not understanding why he won’t tell anyone what happened.
Noah huffed and was growing more irritated by the second with the lack of cooperation. “Well, what am I supposed to do with you two? Huh?” Stiles shrugged again and seemed unphased by his father. Listing each item off with his fingers, Noah spoke, “We have breaking and entering, theft, destruction of property, assault, kidnapping…” Stiles jerked his head at ‘kidnapping’ and donned confusion. “Yeah, kidnapping Stiles. There were fifty beds in that basement and we only found forty-nine boys.”
Stiles looked at Scott and gulped visibly. If his dad wasn’t sure if they knew anything before, he was positive they did now. Stiles turned to his dad, his voice uneasy, “We have no idea—”
“Stiles!” His father cut him off and held up his hand. “I’m done playing these games. You need to tell me what the hell is going on right now before I lock you up myself. Is that what it’s going to take to keep you out of trouble? Because I’m getting tired of this, son.” 
Stiles looked at his feet and picked at his fingers as the guilt hit him hard. He never means to cause his father this much stress and frustration, it just kind of comes along with the package of having Stiles as a son. He looked up at Scott who shrugged a shoulder and gave a sympathetic smile. Stiles knew Scott thought it was a good idea to tell his dad, he had told him that when it all started, but it wasn’t his place to.
Stiles looked to his father, took in an agonizing breath and leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees. How do you tell someone this? How do you even start? ‘Hey Dad, I’m one of three doppelgangers, that we know of, of an evil druid who’s thousands of years old. Oh yeah, he’s immortal too!’ This isn’t something you can just say to your father. How is he supposed to tell him that his eyes, his mother’s eyes, aren’t actually his?
His dad used to drink after she passed and when he was drunk one night he mentioned how he looked just like his mother. Her eyes, lips, nose, and especially her smile. How does he tell him those aren’t even his? Is there a good way to tell someone that their son isn't their son because he’s not even sure if he’s a real person himself, but just some copy of the original?
Tears started to well in Stiles’ eyes and his voice croaked when he spoke. “Dad…” The word sounded foreign in his tongue like it didn’t belong to him. Was he technically still his son? His father reoriented in his seat, his posture changing from offensive to concerned. “You have to promise you won’t freak out, okay?” Stiles peered at his father from behind his clasped hands, filled with trepidation.
His father leaned forward onto his knees, more disquieted than angry now. “Son, it’s okay. You can tell me.” He saw the fear in his child's eyes and wanted nothing more than to snatch it away. He wanted to take it all, all the pain and hurt Stiles had ever felt and will feel. That’s his son and he has a primal need to protect him, but he felt like he’d utterly failed in that department. He keeps trying, but he can’t protect his son if he doesn’t know what the threat is.
Stiles continued to struggle with his words and Scott noticed. He nudged Stiles’ knee with his own and gave him a soft smile of reassurance. “It’s your dad, Stiles. He’ll love you no matter what.” As if his best friend could read his mind, that was exactly what he needed to hear.
Stiles cleared his throat and sat up straight, “Dad, I’m a doppelganger.” His father's face turned to confusion and Stiles realized his dad had no clue what he was talking about. “A doppelganger is like...a copy of someone else.” His father’s face was even more distraught. Okay, that explanation didn’t help. Stiles sighed and looked to Scott for help, but was offered none. “A doppelganger is like having a twin, dad, but the two people aren’t related. They’re exactly the same; their face, voice, everything.”
Noah held his chin as he processed the information provided to him. He let his hand fall as he opened his mouth, but only silence escaped. He adjusted himself in his seat and Stiles started to bounce his leg with nervousness. “So...you’re a....dobble wanker?”
Stiles sat up straight with wide eyes and waved his hands outwards, “Oh God, dad, no. That’s— No just— That’s not it at all.” His father made an unamused face at him. “Doppelganger. It’s doppelganger. Please never say that again.”
His father groaned and wrapped his fingers around his brow in frustration, “Stiles, I think I would know if my son was…” He was struggling with the word again so he motioned vaguely, “...one of those things.”
“Well dad, you would think that, but I had no idea myself until about a week ago.” His father shot him a glance and Stiles immediately cringed, realizing his mistake.
“A WEEK!? THIS HAS BEEN GOING ON FOR A WEEK?! Oh, it all makes sense now. The staying out late, not answering my calls or texts, answering my questions with more questions or changing the subject. The half-truths and talking in circles. But I still don’t believe you’re a...whatever you call it.”
Stiles’ head fell into his hands as he realized his father wasn’t going to believe him without any evidence. While his father was well aware of the supernatural world and the creatures that lived in it, he was a man of facts and logic. The type of person who needed to see in order to believe. He groaned because the last thing he wanted to do was bring Thomas or Mitch downstairs. He was convinced his father would have a heart attack if he saw one of them, but alas, what other choice did he have at this point? “I can show you. There are...three of us that we know of if you’re not including the original.”
“Three!? What do you mean there are three of you? Original? Stiles, for the last time, you are not a dingle wacker.” Stiles closed his eyes and took a deep breath, not even bothering to correct his father this time.
“Give me a sec.” Stiles pushed off the couch with haste and lost his balance for a short second, forgetting how weak he really felt after passing out earlier. Scott grabbed is hip to help balance him, but Stiles brushed him off and mouthed ‘I’m fine.’ His father was shouting his name as he made his way up the steps, protesting him leaving. He got to his room and opened the door to see Mitch and Lydia arguing in hushed tones in the corner while Thomas was still sitting on the bed like a child who just had his toy taken away. “Mitch.” The older man looked up with question and Stiles just jerked his head towards the hallway. All of them knew what Stiles was asking so Lydia looked to her friend with uncertainty, but he gave her a forced smile. 
Stiles turned and winced as it took all his energy to dredge himself back downstairs. The last thing he needed was everyone worried about his physical state in the middle of this chaotic muddle. Mitch followed him to the top of the staircase until Stiles stopped and held out a hand. “You look like shit.”
Stiles sighed and looked at his reflection in Mitch’s eyes. They were like dark brown oceans that could swallow you whole. “I’m okay.” Mitch huffed and crossed his arms, not believing him.
Stiles turned and descended down the steps to prepare his father.
“Okay, I know you don’t believe me, because honestly, I wouldn’t have believed it myself, so I’m going to show you.” Stiles paused and took a deep and reassuring breath. “Dad, you have to not freak out because the last thing I need is you going into cardiac arrest.”
“Stiles, I am not going to have a heart attack. What are you talking about?” The sheriff had his arms crossed over his chest and rolled his eyes familiarly.
His son waved up to the top of the steps and a body slowly came down. When his face came into view, Stiles swore everyone in the room could hear the sound of his heart beating outside of his chest. The room was so silent that is was deafening, and everyone was too scared to break it. Mitch stood next to Stiles with a bored face as he crossed his arms and looked to the old man sitting in the chair. Stiles looked between Mitch and his father, but there was nothing. It was like they had frozen in place and he didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing. He looked to Scott who was just as terrified as he was.
His father finally stood up and walked over to the identical boys. He stood in front of the older of the two and looked him over, invading his space. He was taller than his son, but not by much. His hair was longer too, and the presence of a beard and mustache where Stiles still couldn’t manage one. There was a permanent line on his brow, something that was etched into his skin from the constant furrow of his forehead.
Noah crossed his arms and squinted like he was trying to read one of those posters with the letters when you go to the eye doctor. He started to make noises of curiosity here and there, lightening the tone of the group. He was analyzing Mitch like someone would a sculpture in an art museum.
Stiles’ eyes widened as he slowly made his way to Scott, his father not even noticing. He whispered from the corner of his mouth, refusing to break his lock on his father and Mitch, “Scott, what’s happening? Why isn’t he saying anything?” His friend shook his head, just as perplexed as him.
His father finally broke the silence and everyone looked to him. “Alright. Okay.” He started to walk towards the chair. “This is okay.”
“Uhm, yup. I broke him. He’s broken. My father has officially lost his marbles.” Scott just quietly chuckled at Stiles’ discomfort and despair.
“We’re all okay.” Noah sat down in the chair and let out a long sigh and the room fell quiet again, but only for a moment. His father let out a loud and unending scream that drew shock from the whole house.
“Oh God! Oh God! Oh God! This is worse! This is much much worse! Scott, make it stop! How do I make it stop!?” Stiles was frantically babbling and beginning to have a minor panic attack, his breaths becoming uneven and short. Scott just tried to comfort him.
Mitch looked to Stiles and then his screaming father and rolled his eyes as he spoke, “Great, it’s genetic.”
Lydia sauntered down the steps and tried to speak over the shouting and panic, “What is going on?” Both of the Stilinski’s were too self-involved at the moment to even notice her presence.
Mitch sighed and pointed to Stiles, “Well that one is having a panic attack,” He pointed to the older man, “and that one is having a mental breakdown.”
Lydia sighed and turned as she heard Thomas hopping down the steps two at a time behind her and Mitch. “I told you to stay upstairs.”
Just as Thomas went to speak, Noah turned and saw the third doppelganger. His shouts had died down, but they picked up again and were now laced with profanities. He was babbling nonsense and holding his head for fear it would roll off his shoulders. Thomas was starting to panic and become defensive. Everything in his body made his legs twitch and beg him to run, just run as far away from all of them and this ridiculousness as you could and not look back.
Lydia had enough of all of them, so she used her banshee voice, a demanding and humbling tone. “ALL OF YOU, SHUT UP.”
As if it had flipped a switch, everyone shut their mouths and it was silent again. They all looked to her submissively and in awe. “Now, are you all a bunch of children? Because that is exactly how you’re acting. Stop throwing your tantrums and use your words.” She turned to the sheriff, “Yes, Stiles is a doppelganger. This is Mitch and the other one is Thomas.” She turned over to Stiles, “Pull it together. You’re not helping your father, he needs you right now.” Then she turned to Mitch who was laughing under his breath. “And you, this is not funny. Just because you have this whole I don’t care thing going on doesn’t mean that everyone else doesn’t.” His ever so slight smile disappeared as he took offense to her words. “Since everyone has been put in their place,” she grabbed her coat off the chair at the kitchen table, “I am going home because I am way too tired and unprepared to deal with all of this.” With that, she walked out of the door and left the men to fend for themselves in stunned silence.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Allison opened her eyes and saw nothing but black. She was lying on the cold rigid floor with her hands bound behind her back. She couldn’t help but run her tongue across the cloth that was between her teeth to muffle any noise she would attempt to make. She managed to sit herself up and started to wiggle her shoulders in an effort to shake the ropes loose. She went to pull a small knife from her arm when a chilling and familiar voice broke through the darkness.
“If you’re looking for the blade in your sleeve, don’t bother.”
Allison froze and searched the void for the person who spoke, but she couldn’t see more than three inches in front of her face. She had other weapons hidden on her person, but it was safe to assume that the man found them all. She continued to blink, trying to differentiate the darkness from movement, and could have sworn she saw something red pass quickly.
Her body stiffened when she felt a contrasting warmth to the air of the room, becoming aware that the man was now close to her. He must have been squatting behind her because he was whispering into her ear now. “If you’re still wondering what my name is, I have two. My given name…” he sounded disgusted by the thought, “...and my chosen name.” He was much more satisfied with the idea of the chosen name. He circled around in front of her and loosened the fabric in her mouth, letting it fall around her neck as she wet her dry lips. He squatted back down so they were now face to face with only a small distance between them.
Her eyes, now adjusting to the obfuscation of the room they were in, she could just make out her captor’s face. “I’m assuming you want me to ask you what they are?” Allison’s throat was sore and cracked when she spoke, the dry air not a friend to her parched mouth.
The man chuckled and stood to tower over her. “You can call me Morfran.”
Allison pulled in her brows. “You chose that?”
“Why are you so surprised?” He was genuinely curious as to what her thoughts were.
“Morfran was the name of a soldier to King Arthur in Welsh mythology. His skin was charcoal black and so hideous that no one would strike him in battle for fear he was a demon.” 
“I’m impressed. You know your welsh mythology. You forget what the meaning of the name is though. Morfran, great crow, bringer of death.”
Allison shuddered at the idea. “So is that what you’re going to do? Kill me?” She held back her fear, but it was still evident in her voice.
“Maybe.” Morfran seemed indifferent on the matter like he hadn’t entirely made his mind up yet.
“Then what are you going to do with me?”
Morfran was squatting next to her again, close enough to feel his hot breath against her cheek. “You’re going to tell me about your friends.” Allison opened her mouth to protest, but before she could get out any words she felt a sharp pain in the back of her neck and a silent scream escaped her lips. Her eyes rolled back into her head and everything went dark.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
After Lydia left, Mitch and Thomas went back to Stiles’ room while he continued to explain everything that had happened during the last few days to his dad. When his father's head was thoroughly spinning, he tried to absorb what he could before he left to finish his shift and the mountain of paperwork his son had just caused him. Stiles was drained and tired on top of still being in pain, everywhere. He was going to kick the boys out of his room so he could sleep. When he got up from the couch with Scott, Isaac flew through the door and looked like he was about to break down into tears.
Scott ran over to him and grabbed his shoulders. Isaac was trying to speak but his breaths were shallow and deep like he had been running for hours. “Isaac, what is it? What’s wrong?”
He looked at Scott with weary eyes and a forehead full of lines. “She’s gone. I can’t find her.”
“What? What are you talking about? Who’s gone?” Scott was trying to calm the beta down while pressing for answers.
Just as Isaac was about to speak, Stiles cut him off, “Allison.”
They got Isaac to the couch and he explained to the two other boys what had happened. “After you told me to get Allison, I went up to the roof, but she wasn’t there. Her bow and knife were on the ground, but that’s all I could find of her. Not even a scent. I thought I could smell another wolf, but I assumed it was just me since I’m still not very good with tracking and scenting. I just don’t get why I couldn’t catch hers. I went to her house to see if she was there, but it was empty. I got one of her shirts and followed the smell to the edge of town, but then it just disappeared. When I lost it, I came right here.”
He looked between Stiles and Scott who were standing in front of him, waiting frantically for a response. They were both fixated on the floor while deep in thought. Isaac was growing impatient, so he shot up from the couch and raised his voice. “Well!? We have to find her!”
“Woah, Isaac. It’s okay.” Scott reached out to comfort his beta, and it seemed to help. Isaac relaxed a bit and slumped back down into the cushions.
Stiles looked up while rubbing his chin and gave Scott a worrying face. He darted his eyes towards Isaac and then back, implying he didn’t want to say what he was thinking. He jerked his head towards the kitchen and Scott lead them in that direction. Stiles spoke in a hushed tone, “What if…” He took a staggering breath and knew he would immediately regret it after he said it, but continued, “What if it’s the druid?”
Scott’s eyes grew and he was shocked, the possibility never occurred to him. Stiles side-eyed Isaac on the couch, picking at the end of the armrest perpetually. “Scott, we need to go look for her. We can't leave her out there with him. We know nothing about him. He could be capable of anything and from what Deaton told us, or lack thereof, he doesn’t sound like a nice guy.”
Stiles went to grab his coat he had tossed onto the kitchen counter when Scott took his arm. “No, you can’t.” Stiles shot Scott a baffled glance and Scott shook his head. “You’re in no condition, and Isaac and I would have better luck anyways. You need to stay here and rest, talk to Thomas. I can hear his heart all the way down here. He reeks of anxiety and stress.”
Stiles let out a small sigh, thankful for the suggestion, but he still felt the guilt in the pit of his stomach. He should be out there, she’s his friend too. Scott was right though, what could he do but slow the wolves down? He nodded and watched as Scott called out to Isaac. His friend gave him a reassuring smile before the two of them left.
Stiles sat down in the kitchen at the counter and closed his eyes, allowing himself to finally breathe. A flash of white invaded the darkness of his lids and he jumped up, his whole body rigid and tense. “What the hell..?” He looked down and examined the tops and bottoms of his hands, then shook his head like it was all just a dream. 
His attention was grabbed by the sounds of arguing upstairs and he slouched, rolling his eyes and letting his head fall back. “Seriously?“ The last thing he wanted to deal with right now was his two twins. Twins? Triplets? Or just doppelgangers? Honestly, Stiles wasn’t sure what to call them but all he could focus on was his bed and how ardently it called to him. He dragged himself to his room sluggishly and opened the door to shouting.
“What is wrong with you? Did someone shit in your shoe or something?” Thomas was standing chest to chest with Mitch, both of them fuming and locked in their gaze. Despite the obvious four inches Mitch had on the boy, he didn’t seem to be intimidated.
Mitch pulled his lips into a thin line and his eyes widened like he was preparing to headbutt the sucker, just as Stiles ran over. He pushed his way between the two of them and shouted, “Hey, hey, hey! Now, let's not all overreact.” The other two were still staring at each other and Stiles was now stuck between them like a doppelganger sandwich, instantly regretting the impulse to put himself in this position.
Through gritted teeth, Mitch refused to give any headway, “I’m not the one overreacting.” He pressed in further, pushing Stiles tighter between the two of them.
“Oh my God,” Stiles whispered under his breath. Despite all the fighting Stiles had learned to do over the years, it wasn’t natural to him. He was a lover if he really thought about it, but these two, they were undoubtedly born and bread fighters. All Stiles could think about was how he was going to be some sort of causality of war. He managed, somehow, to wiggle his way free and was now standing lateral to the others, forming a triangle.
“Guys, guys. Just take it easy, okay?” They both turned to glare at his unwelcome antics and Stiles took an unknowing step back. Come on, he just wanted to sleep. He was so exhausted, still not entirely sure why, not to mention his body in a constant state of aching.
“This kid won’t stop asking questions!” Mitch seemed less assertive than five seconds ago, but that wasn’t saying much.
Thomas crossed his arms over his chest defensively and spouted out yet another question. “Why are you acting like such a dickhead?” He turned to Stiles, “Sergeant asshole and the redhead kept saying I had to wait for you to explain everything. No one will tell me shit!”
Stiles opened his mouth to speak and raised his hand while the other rested on his hip, but he stilled. Glancing over at Mitch, he closed his mouth and pursed his lips not entirely sure where to start.
A look of annoyance was growing on Thomas’ face and Stiles knew he had to answer his questions. He sighed and got light-headed, both boys leaning in to catch him as he started to keel over.
~~~~~~~~~
“What the hell!?” Stiles sat up, putting all his weight onto his right hand while rubbing above his left eye with the other. He heard a groan to his left and saw Thomas pulling himself up from the floor to lean against the end of his bed. He looked over to Mitch and saw that there was no movement. He crawled over to him and looked him over with alarm. “Mitch! Mitch! Dude, wake up!” He wasn’t stirring so he grabbed his shoulders and gave him a timid shake. “Hey, man, you gotta open your eyes, okay?” He leaned down and turned his ear to his nose and mouth and could hear his small, steady breaths. Stiles fell back onto his butt and hands and sighed in relief.
“What was that?” Stiles turned to Thomas who had managed to sit on the bed. He decided he was too drained and whatever the hell had kicked his ass to the ground didn’t help, so he laid down on the floor next to Mitch. He let his right hand slap onto his stomach and he twiddled the ends of his hair with the other which was raised over his head.
“Honestly, I don’t know dude.” Stiles found solace in starting up at the ceiling and, for the first time, Thomas was quiet.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Allison gasped for breath and sat up abruptly in the middle of a green pasture. She looked around, her long hair dancing around her face like a frame. Standing up, she tried to place her surroundings but found them unrecognizable. She could hear people in the distance, so she started in the direction of the voices.
She found herself in a village filled with wooden homes and tents, animals and many laughing children. The women wore long cloth dresses, simple pieces that were sewn together. The men were wearing large shirts and pants that tucked tight around their waists. Everything was primitive compared to the world she knew—simple lives.
None of the villagers seemed to notice her as she made her way through the small grouping and she found a hut tucked away at the edge of the development. Something from inside it pulled at her, so she went to it sluggishly, passing through its entrance.
Inside the structure, a man and women traded hushed whispers. Allison couldn’t quite make out their words. Something about wrong and mistake. They were both undoubtedly frightened as the man tried to comfort the woman.
Allison was completely still, but the world around her began to blur until it moved. She was in the woods, watching four young boys from a distance. Three of the bigger ones looked to be bullying the smaller fourth one. Anger evident on the little ones face, his fists closed and jaw clenched. The others were throwing slurs at him, saying he was puny and weak, and he wouldn’t survive the winter.
The world shifted again, the little boy now standing in front of the same woman she saw before, but older. She was yelling at him to control it. No one could know what he was, what he hid inside of himself. If anyone found out, they would kill him out of fear.
As if she were the boy herself, she felt a hot fury in her stomach. That’s what the boy wanted, to be feared. His mother seemed to change in stature and become more loving, telling him how she feared for him and didn’t know what she would do if she lost him. The boy relaxed as well and they embraced one another.
Everything swirled and Allison was in the woods again but enveloped in darkness, the only source of light beaming from the full moon above her. She heard a reverberating howl from an unknown place and spun her head out of instinct, her hair flowing with the movement. She precipitously felt under threat and discovered her feet moving without thought. She was running through the trees, panting with each step that connected with the ground. Realizing there was no immediate danger, she stopped and looked around. She took in her surroundings in an attempt to figure out where she was.
Movement some feet away caught her attention and she snapped her head in that direction. She heard growling and it was soon met with a figure revealing from the brush. A white wolf, with cutting ruby iris’.
A voice shouted from the distance, “Maccon!” The wolf tore his gaze from Allison and looked to its location. He glanced back at the girl with intrigue and then dashed towards the person who had called for him.
The world around Allison went black and she felt cold, a pain radiating at the base of her skull. Something tore from her neck and she fell over on the ground that was stealing warmth from her body. She was back from whatever journey she had taken.
Keeping her eyes open was a struggle, the room she was in spinning in a dizzying trance. Morfran walked into her vision and leaned forward over her, a devious smile on his lips. 
“Maccon,” Allison whispered so quietly it couldn’t have been heard by human ears. Morfran’s cheeky grin melted away and turned down, his nose twitching with anger. Then her eyes closed and there was nothing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He hadn’t realized it, but Stiles started to drift off. Somewhere in the midst of the haze between consciousness and sleep, Thomas broke the easy silence. “Is Sergeant asshole okay? Shouldn’t he be awake by now?” Stiles shifted his head to get a good look at Mitch whose chest was rising and falling with ease.
“Nah, he’ll be fine. He’s tough as nails.” He could hear Thomas humming in response and let his eyes close again. “He doesn't hate you, you know? He's just...guarded. Doesn’t trust easily. Hell, I’m pretty sure he still doesn’t entirely trust me. Just give him some time.” Thomas thrummed acknowledgment.
“What are we?” Thomas sounded like a small child, but Stiles had no energy left to offer any sort of comfort. He just answered his questions as well as he could while fighting his fatigue.
“Uh, we’re doppelgangers. Like...copies, I guess.”
“Copies?”
“Yeah. We look the same and sound the same, but we’re not related. Clones if you really think about it. Supernatural clones.”
“If we’re clones, who’s the original?”
“We don’t know much about him, but he’s a druid, someone who practices magic. Supposedly he’s some super evil dude who wanted to be super powerful and fucked with some shit he shouldn’t have. That’s how we were made, I guess.”
“Oh.” Thomas seemed unsure of the answers, trying to process it all but everything was so uncertain to him. He had just been ripped from a world he thought was his own only to discover it wasn’t even real. It felt like it was, so how was he supposed to tell if this was real or not either. “How did you find me?”
“A dream, oddly enough. It was like I was you, and I was running in this stone maze. There was this kid running with me--”
“Minho,” Thomas spoke softly when his name passed his lips, almost like he was afraid someone would hear it.
“Yeah, I guess. But we were running and there was this ugly ass monster thing straight out of a sci-fi movie, but I, erm, I mean you killed it. Did that really happen?”
“Yeah.”
“Badass,” Stiles spoke with a smile growing on his face as he heard a breathy laugh from Thomas.
“Why was I there? What was Wicked doing to me?”
“From what I could tell, they were experimenting on you, but I don’t know why. Everything that happened to you wasn’t real. It was an artificial reality, so kind of all in your head.”
“Do I have a family?” This question startled Stiles. He opened his eyes and sat up on his elbows to look at the other boy. He was still sitting in the same spot he had last seen him, looking down at Stiles.
“Yeah, I’m sure you have a family.” Stiles smiled sympathetically and Thomas tried to return it, but it was too sad to pass. Stiles hadn’t thought about that. They had probably been missing him and looking for him. He made it his mission to find his parents in that moment. Once they figured all this shit out, he’d get Thomas home.
Thomas looked towards the window, “Then why didn’t they come for me?” Stiles tried to answer but didn’t have one this time. He just looked the boy over, who couldn’t be more than sixteen. His hair was a little shorter than Stiles’ and his bangs fell down onto his face. He was surprisingly skinnier than Stiles too, but also less lanky. His features were softer than the other two boys like he’d been through a lot but refused to give up hope. Stiles laughed internally, he could use some more of that, always the pessimist.
“What the fuck?” Stiles was shaken from his trance and turned his head to look at Mitch who was grabbing at his head.
“Hey! Welcome back to the land of the living.” He offered a half-genuine, half-mocking smile.
“God, why are you on the floor? Why am I on the floor?”
“Dunno. We all just kinda passed out or something. It was when--” Stiles shook his head and sat all the way up, pulling his legs into a criss-cross. “Dudes, it was when you both touched me at the same time! We were all touching. It must have done something!”
“Great,” Mitch groaned as he pushed himself off the floor and sat in Stiles’ computer chair. “We’ll add it to the list of crazy shit doppelgangers can do.”
“Yeah! Wait, what?” Stiles turned back to face Mitch again.
“The wall?” Stiles stared blankly, blinking his eyes in response. “You know? The big gaping hole in the side of the building?” He shrugged his shoulders, still not understanding what Mitch was getting at.
“You turned into a freaking glowstick!” Thomas grew impatient so he tore the band-aid clean off.
Stiles jumped up from the floor, “I did what!?”
“You seriously don’t remember?” Mitch was still rubbing the back of his head on the spot that collided with the floor.
“Mitch, I think I’d remember turning into a damn firefly.”
Thomas stood up next to Stiles, “Well, you did. You were so bright no one could look at you. It was like this white light and it looked like lightning was shooting out of you. Oh! And you’re eyes were gold.” Stiles was exasperated and his hands flew in all directions around his head as he twisted his features, trying to comprehend what was happening.
“Don’t forget the wall,” Mitch added.
Thomas nodded at him, “Yeah, and you blew the wall off the side of the building with your mind.”
“MY MIND?!” The vein in Stiles’ neck was prominent and Mitch kind of thought he might have an aneurysm.
Mitch leaned forward in the chair and licked his lips, “Stiles, do you remember the book we found in that vet’s office?”
Stiles turned abruptly from Thomas to face Mitch, “Deaton? Yeah. Why?”
“Didn’t it say something about…” Mitch looked up to Stiles like he was failing at finding the right word, “...powers?”
Stiles contemplated and it hit him like a train. “Elements! The three druid elements!”
“The what?” Thomas scratched his head and Stiles turned back and forth between the two of them.
Making a thinking face and an odd noise, Stiles held his hands out in front of him. He turned to Thomas and started to explain using his limbs as emphasizers. “Okay. So, a couple of days ago, before we knew about you, we found this book—“
“Illegally.” Stiles let his hands drop to his sides and emitted a sigh as he turned to Mitch, giving him the stink eye.
Turning back to Thomas, “Whatever. We found a book that said the druid, who mentioned earlier, decided some thousand years ago, or whatever, to get all grabby hands with power and made himself immortal. He used the three druid elements. Calas, things that are physical and how it’s all connected. Earth, land, the body, matter. Gwyar, the ebb and flow of life and instability of it all. Water, the sea, energy, the source of life itself. And Nwyfre, what makes up everything. That bit of us that could be called our soul or spirit. Sky, heavens, mind, and spark.”
“Spark,” Thomas questioned.
“Yeah?” Stiles wasn’t sure where the conversation was headed by the look of deep thought on the younger boy’s face.
“That’s...what you looked like. A spark.”
Stiles’ mouth parted and he pushed out a small gasp, mouthing the word ‘what’. Like two cogs in a machine clicking into place, it all connected and started to work in tandem. He briefly had the thought before and was on the right track. This wasn’t the first time he’d been called that. He closed his lips and gulped, the muscles in his neck moving with the action. “I have a terrible idea.”
Mitch sat back in the chair and rolled his eyes, “Do you have any that aren’t?”
Stiles held up a finger, “First, rude. Second, I think we should all touch again. I know we got knocked on our asses before but that’s ‘cause we didn’t know what we were doing.”
“And we do now?” Mitch raised his arms behind his head, leaning back. Stiles closed his eyes and huffed.
Thomas winced and scrunched up his nose at the idea. Mitch curled in his lips and shook his head, trying to figure out how he was caught up in all of this.
“Guys, come on. Just trust me, I think this is going to work. The book said that the three elements had to come together as one. What if we’re like Voltron or the power rangers?”
Mitch pressed his palm to his face and let his fingers slide down, a groan at his lips. “Whatever. I call black ranger.” He pushed himself up from his spot and walked towards his counterpart.
Stiles perked up and was slightly dazed by Mitch’s sudden acquiescence along with the pop culture reference. He’d been pretty sure this guy was raised in a lab, but apparently that had been Thomas. “Ahh! That’s the spirit.” He waved over to Thomas to join them. The youngest of the three rolled his eyes and started towards them.
They were all standing in a triangle again, facing each other. Stiles held his arms out tentatively and spoke softly, “Alright. Mitch. Thomas.” He nodded at the space between them and Mitch groaned. He wasn’t one for physical contact. Thomas rolled his eyes and grabbed the older man’s hand. Mitch let out a soft grunt in protest but didn’t fight it. Hovering his hands over the other boy’s, Stiles let out a breath. “Okay, I hope this works.”
“Wait! I thought you sai—” Before Thomas could finish, Stiles completed the circle and time stopped. They were all pulled into a blackness of nothing and everything.
Stiles blinked and found himself floating alone in the emptiness, but he felt a buzzing of electricity on his skin, in the air around him, and inside his chest. He ran a hand over the other and a spark ignited. “Oh my god! Cool, bro.” He looked his hands over and a white electricity danced over them. Following the current rolling up his arm and onto his chest, he took a step back. He almost tripped and suddenly the space he was in was now white. He heard someone shouting his name and looked up in response, seeking out the voice.
Realizing where he was, Stiles snapped back into the moment at the Wicked facility. He felt a hot light burning into his very being like he was exploding from the inside out. It had nowhere to go but outward, forcing the energy from his body like a beacon. It shot forward and knocked the men over in front of him, flinging them like rag dolls into the walls. Did he really do that? He turned and faced Scott and Thomas, looking past them to the barrier they faced. He pulled his arms back like he was preparing to throw a punch and pushed his hands forward, emanating a force that drained him dry. He watched as the wall all but vanished, being torn from its place and crumbling to the ground. 
Stiles felt like all that power he felt was gone, leaving him hollow and wanting for more. He felt dizzy and couldn’t hold himself up, then blackness.
Thomas let out a breath that echoed into the abyss he was standing in. Despite being unable to see its beginning or end, if there was one, he knew he was in the center of it. He looked up and saw it littered with silver twinkling lights. He saw one in motion and followed it, realizing all the illuminations were connected. He looked down and found brown earth beneath his feet. Roots were lain around him, weaving in and out of the ground and he followed them to a tree. It towered in front of him standing tall and wide, an immovable force of nature.
The young boy stepped forward, raising a hand out cautiously. He touched the bark and his head flew back, shooting his mind up the extent of the tree for what felt like miles until he reached the stars. He felt a fire in his stomach, burning and raging to escape.
Thomas pulled back and for the first time in his life, wasn’t scared. He felt strong and solid like he was the tree itself. He clenched his fists at sides and felt something shoot up his arms. He looked over and saw an emerald flame enveloping his limbs. Holding his hands in front of him, he examined them closely. “Holy shit,” he laughed and noticed the fire wasn’t hot, but deadly nonetheless.
There was pressure around his ankle and he looked down to see the roots of the tree wrapping around his leg. With a yelp, he was jerked down into the earth.
Mitch was shrouded in a never-ending whiteness, almost blinding. Despite being fully clothed, he had never felt more vulnerable and naked than this moment. He wrapped his arms around his belly and tried to hold back the tears that pushed through his ducts. A cold rush filled him to the brim, a raging sea inside of him that pushed at his boundaries, pressing to seep from his pores.
He let out a sad laugh, recognizing that in spite of his controlled and calculated exterior he was a chaotic current and mess of emotions and impulses. It didn’t scare or frighten him, it empowered him. He’d always held back buried everything he ever felt down and hid it away from the world, protecting it. Like an epiphany, he found the power in his emotions and their fierceness. He opened himself up to the idea, allowing himself to feel and found that he was drowning in an open ocean with no land in sight.
Sinking down into the blue water he choked and clawed at his throat, desperate for a source of oxygen. He stopped, concluding that there was no point but found he didn’t need the air. In his stillness, he found a calm he had long searched for, a stark contrast to everything he was feeling only seconds ago. Blinking, he saw a face in the water, reaching out to him. Unknowingly, he returned the action but found they were just out of his reach.
The image came into focus and it was Katrina, like an apparition with the tendrils of light dancing over her form. He wasn’t sad or angry, just was and she smiled at him. He tried to smile back but felt arms wrapping around him from behind. He looked to his chest, that instinct of fear rising in him and was rapidly pulled back, his arms and legs dragging in front of him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Morfran stood over Allison’s limp body, fighting back his instinct to snarl when a surge of energy coursed through him and his eyes flashed vermillion. His nose twitched at the smell of copper in the air from where he cut into the girl’s neck. There was a tingling sensation over his flesh and he instantly knew what was happening. He was swallowed by the floor beneath him and dropped into a forest doused in tangerine flames.
Knowing it wasn’t real, he flicked his fingers to bring himself back to his body, but something countered it and he landed in a field of violet lilies. He let out a hideous roar and emitted a shadow over the beautiful pasture. He hated the flower.  A sliver of light broke through and a breathtaking blonde woman with hazel eyes set a path for him. Her gown flowed in the breeze and Morfran faltered. He reached out to meet her fingertips and she was ripped from him and spun into the forest again, nothing but ash now.
He fell to his hands and knees, covered in soot. He was a small boy again, crying and screaming at the moon. The image of his mother, his anchor, burning and tied to a stake in the center of the village. The screams and shouts of the villagers saying she was a witch and cursed them all. His tiny eyes filled with tears as he watched her, whispering his name, “Maccon,” as the flames lapped at her feet. She wore a smile through it all until the flames took her and enveloped her kaleidoscope eyes and ate away at her golden locks. He slammed his eyes shut and heard the resignation sound of gut-wrenching screams.
That night something in him broke, no one would ever say his name again. It belonged to his mother and no one else. He had no room left for anything but hate for the people who took his mother from him. Druids were known and typically respected, but they used her as a scapegoat for their misfortune. That was his trigger, her death that revealed he too was capable of her abilities. When the fiery power kicked in him, his wolf howled and smiled. The magic gave it strength and the wolf fed the magic. A cycle of unending energy.
The boy, no older than fifteen, screamed and a ring of fire irradiated from him, engulfing the village and the people who resided in it. They would burn with his mother. His soul hung in the balance, teetering between the choice of light or dark. Every druid faced this when they came into their powers. The possibility to be the sun or the void.
With the taste of the newfound strength on his lips Morfran hungered for more, his wolf's belly rumbling and aching for the rush that came with it. The thought of being feared rather than the one who was frightened. He was tired of being nothing, he yearned to be more; more everything. His heart chose the darkness and went down the path of those who came before him known as darach. They meddled in magic that upset the balance of the world, going against their own nature.
Morfran let out a growl laced with a scream and awoke on the floor, leaning back on his hands. He was back with his body, his mind no longer wandering the supernatural realm. There was only one reason this happened to him and it was that the bond was forged between the other three he saw earlier that night. After sifting through Allison’s mind, he knew their names as well. 
He looked to the girl across from him and decided to let her live, for what it’s worth, not that she would have much of a life. He stood up and walked over to her, whispering in her ear, “Cadal, nighean òg.” 
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A/N: The last sentence Morfran says is “Sleep, young girl” in Scottish Gaelic. again, please let me know what you thought, theories, things you’d like to see, etc. thank you for reading. it means the world to me.  ♡ ♡ ♡
Taglist:  @daisyxbuckley @bitch-banshee @wolfmadefromash @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @theholydestiny @2eyesmadeoutofcoal @jasper53fox @stiles-o-dylan24 @shelinski-91 @samslave @peachybrook @juliebean247 @fastfadingfiction @pyro-vixen @katemusic @tete-futue @juliebean247 @allybugg888 @theoneswithoutpacks @raimykeller @ratman83 @mayxsx @ozgirl6 @prettyeyes1202 @xceafh @indecisive-fandom-writer @lawfulgeek @fandom-fairy-tale @catcrown21 @celestialblissx @saltistoosalty @dreamingofdyl @redsalv20 @treestarrrrrrrr @nashapixie @lettersofwrittencollective @behind-my-hazeleyes27 @nitnat6245​
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breathinginthevapor · 5 years ago
Text
“At least think of me while you’re gone”
Summary: your relationship with Tom is a secret, and you hate it. At a party, your feelings are finally confronted.
A/N: This is a very, very, very late (im so sorry taylor!) entry for @plushparkers 2k writing challenge, so a big congrats to her on reaching on that amazing milestone! I hope you guys will give it a read and tell me what you think afterwards!
Word count: 5600+
T/W: alcohol and swearing
My masterlist
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To: The Worst Spiderman Ever🤮🕷❤️ (barf, spider and heart emoji)
When does your plane arrive?❤️ (heart emoji)
You hit send, putting your phone down on the sink. You pick up the mascara instead, painting your eyelashes black before the “Ping!”-sound from your phone startles you and causes you to draw a dark line just below your eyebrow.
“Fucking shit,” you curse, searching through your cabinet with frantic movements for a cotton pad and makeup remover.
While you try to remove your mistake, you look at your phone.
From: The Worst Spiderman Ever 🤮🕷❤️ (barf, spider and heart emoji)
Around 5. Don’t have to pick me up, though.
Throwing the cotton pad in the bin, you quickly type an answer.
To: The Worst Spiderman Ever 🤮🕷❤️ (barf, spider and heart emoji)
You know I want to. Missed you😘 (kissing emoji)
You smile at the thought that you’ll see him today, and that these last months spent longing will finally be over. In just a couple of hours, you will be able to smell him, talk to him, touch him. And yeah, maybe he won’t kiss you at the airport, but he definitely will later, when it’s just the two of you.
Another “Ping” lets you know you’ve gotten a new message, and you try to keep your cool by applying some lipstick, but your whole body is buzzing, eager to see his answer.
Soon, your lips are coated in a beautiful red shade, perfectly kissable in your own, humble opinion. Tom loves having your lips mark him, his jaw often covered in lipstick marks after you’ve been hanging out, and the fact that the popping colour draws attention to your lips doesn’t hurt, either.
You want him to hug you in the airport while he’s yearning to kiss you, yearning to see if you taste like that cherry lip balm he likes, and maybe you won’t when he finally gets you alone, but by then it won’t matter.
From: The Worst Spiderman Ever 🤮🕷❤️ (barf, spider and heart emoji)
There’ll be a crowd, and I’ll be too tired to do anything but sleep anyway.
You don’t understand. Does that mean he doesn’t want you to come? Or that he thinks you’ll get uncomfortable surrounded by his screaming fans?
Because you can deal with the fans, you’ve done so before, but if it’s because he doesn’t want you there, you won’t know what to do.
Before you can answer, though, another text shows on the screen.
From: The Worst Spiderman Ever 🤮🕷❤️ (barf, spider and heart emoji)
I’ll just see you at the party🕺🎆 (dancing man and fireworks emoji)
The welcome home party might already be tomorrow, but you still feel stupid. Here you’ve been, ecstatic for his return for weeks while he doesn’t even want you to be there in the airport. Besides, who knows how much you’ll even see of him tomorrow, everyone’s there to see him, after all.  
To: The Worst Spiderman Ever 🤮🕷❤️ (barf, spider and heart emoji)
👍 (thumbs up emoji)
And yeah, maybe your answer is passive aggressive, but right now, you really don’t care. Not when you’ve spent days debating what to wear for picking him up and figured out exactly what amount of make-up you should go for to ensure you looking great but not over the top.
And now, he doesn’t even want to see you.
You find the makeup remover once more, this time removing all traces of the makeup you’ve just applied. You slide the cotton pad all over your face with harsh movements, and while it might not be the best way to clean your skin, it helps relieve some of the anger.
Both your skin and your eyes are red when you’re finished, but you don’t look at yourself in the mirror long enough to see the tears sliding down.
Instead, you go back to bed, crawl under the covers and cry to a sad teen movie you loved when you were younger.
The worst part is, you find that you still love the movie just as much as back then, all too similar to the way your love for Tom has done nothing but increase since you first discovered it in your teen years.
   Tom’s parents’ house is filled up with people, but as Tom’s best friend through most of your life, you know the bigger part of them.
You spend a couple minutes talking to his aunt about her hip problems, but then you figure you want something to drink and excuse yourself.
There’s a lot to choose from, delicious sodas and expensive-looking bottles of champagne and wine, but you pick up a canned beer instead. You figure you need some alcohol as soon as possible. That way, you hope you’ll have the courage to face him when you have to.
You definitely can’t keep avoiding him, because even though the house isn’t small, it isn’t exactly a mansion, either.
You sip the beer, taking a few steps towards the wall to let Tom’s young cousins access the drink’s table.
Then, your eyes meet his, and you feel slightly dizzy as it seems almost unreal to finally see him in real life and not through a screen.
Still, you’re angry and hurt, and there’s a knot in your stomach. You can’t remember the last time you felt like this, the last you were angry at him. And maybe it’s petty, but you just hate the fact that you always plan everything around him, while he, when it comes down to it, doesn’t even want to see you after spending four months apart.
“Hey,” he greets you with a smile while still making his way to you, squeezing in between people and excusing himself.
“Hey,” you repeat, but your voice is cold as you take another sip of your beer. There’s a flicker of worry breaking through his confident, happy exterior, but it disappears quickly.
When he’s finally standing close enough to you, he engulfs you in a tight hug, and although you’ve dreamt about this reunion, this first hug in months, it doesn’t even feel that nice. Your body is tense, and your attempt to reciprocate his hug is half-hearted, so he finally lets you go and looks inquiring at you, still with a grip on your elbows.
“We cool?”
You swallow a lump, trying to put on a fake smile. You hope he doesn’t see through it, because although he used to be able to read your face as if it was a stop sign or a stupid brochure for a new pizzeria, it’s been a long time since you last saw each other.
“Sure.”
“Why are you acting weird then?” he asks, and you know he’s split between knowing you’re lying and the fact that it probably won’t help his situation to call you out on it.
You shake his hands off you to gulp down some beer.
“I’m not.”
He crooks his head, scrunching his eyes and looking down at his hands that hang loosely down his sides after returning from you. They start fiddling with the red polo he’s wearing, and you let your gaze wander slowly up his body, not missing how strong his biceps look or the broadness of his shoulder, before you get to his face to find him already watching you.
“You are.”
This time, you don’t argue. Why even bother?
A silence settles between you, so different to the happy chatter filling up the room, and you don’t know how to act. You don’t think you’ve ever experienced anything so awkward with Tom, he’s always been the one you could talk to for an endless number of hours, the one you could be quiet with, the one person in the world you were most comfortable around.
“Nice party,” you say when the silence becomes too much for you, but you hate yourself for being the first one to bow down. It seems that you always are.  
He shrugs, “You know my mum. Always inviting people we don’t even talk with often.”
Perhaps it just runs in the family, you wonder; making people feel like they’re more important than they are.
“They’ve missed you,” you just tell him, knowing that it’s true. He tends to have that impact on people, squeezing himself into their hearts in a matter of five minutes. And once you’ve met him, it’s impossible to forget him.
“They?” he softly asks, and you know he wants you to elaborate.
When you don’t, he asks again, this time phrased so you have no chance to get out of answering, “What about you? Haven’t you missed me?”
You look away, your gaze landing on Harrison who’s laughing with Tom’s grandma.
“Don’t know why you would ask something so stupid,“ you mutter.
He steps closer, and you can feel his presence all over your body. His breath hits your face, and you can smell both beer and the homemade chips his dad is famous for.
“Wanna hear you say it.”
You look at him again, and like countless of times before, you are hit by his beauty. You don’t think there’s a single person in this world as handsome as him, but you might be biased.
Being in love with the same guy for years tends to do that to someone.
“Missed you so much it hurt,” you admit, and you watch his face soften. He’s so close that you could just lean forward and kiss him.
Needless to say, it takes everything in you not to.
Luckily, he steps back, and the enchantment is broken.
“I should probably talk to the other guests. Don’t want them to feel left out, do we?”
You force yourself to laugh, “Of course not.”
But everything in you is begging and hoping that he just takes your hand and leads you away from everyone.
You want him to say that he’s missed you too, that he’s been thinking of you constantly, but you know he hasn’t. Or, maybe he’s felt a pinch of pain occasionally, but then he’s moved on and forgotten about it. Unlike you, who has spent so many nights crying, wishing that he was laying right beside you. And you know that it’s not his fault, that your circumstances are different because he’s out there, doing what he loves most while you are drowning in boring schoolwork and waiting impatiently for his return.
He steps closer, and you think he’s going to kiss you, in front of all those people, and your heart starts beating terribly fast, but then he turns his head and whispers in your ear, “Will I see you later?”
You know what he means: Another quickie in the dark, no one finding out there’s any more than friendship between you. Because that’s how he wants your relationship to be, a secret, even from his own family.
It feels like a stake to the heart, and honestly, you don’t feel like he deserves an answer. Instead, you opt for a small smile that could mean anything and then you down your beer, leaving him there and walking over to your other curly haired friend, but not before handing him the empty can.
If he’s so determined to be the perfect host, he might as well clean up a bit.  
“Hey Haz,” you mumble, throwing your arms around Harrison’s torso from behind.
He looks back at you and smiles widely, and contrary to what one might think, you aren’t completely oblivious to how good looking he is.
You wonder if you should have thought of getting some less pretty friends to make yourself shine a bit more in comparison, but you don’t think you’d be able to find someone who could make you laugh as much as Tom and Harrison can, not even if you searched the whole planet.
You just have to live with the unfairness of their unarguable attractiveness.
“Hey Y/N. Tired?” he asks softly.
You yawn, realizing that you actually are and confirming his question. He chuckles, and you press your cheek against his shoulder, closing your eyes for a second.
“I like this sweater. Really soft.”
“Hi nan,” you then greet Tom’s grandmother who has always insisted that you treat her the same way her grandkids would.
Measured in how much time you’ve spent with her and the rest of the family, you might as well be.
“Hello, darling,” she says, sending you a sweet smile. “I have to serve the cake now, but come catch up with me later, won’t you?”
“Of course, nan,” you promise her, watching her leave and then letting go of Harrison.
“Everything alright?” he asks after turning around to face you.
You shrug, “I guess.”
He rolls his eyes, pointing his finger at you in a reprimanding manner, “Tell me what’s wrong or you know what will happen.”
You can’t help but smile, but then you play along and squeeze your eyes shut and crossing your arms, “I’m not scared of you.”
“You’re not? Then you won’t mind if I TICKLE YOU?”
Harrisons hands reach for you, but you run away, squealing, before he can catch you.
“You’ll never catch me,” you mock him, running up the stairs and into Tom’s bedroom before realizing the inevitable: that you’re trapped.
“NOOOOO,” you scream as he pushes you onto the bed and starts tickling you, hands gripping your sides.
“Let me go, please, Haz,” you beg in-between laughs.
“You know what you need to say, Y/N,” he grins, and you shake your head.
“Never.”
However, it doesn’t take long before you surrender, throwing your hands up and rolling your eyes.
“Alright, alright, you are the hottest, coolest, cleverest, funniest person in the world, Harrison Osterfield.”
He immediately lets you go, plopping down on the bed beside you.
“Finally. My arms were getting tired,” he sighs contently.
You grunt, “Should spend a bit more time in the gym, then.”
“Oh, shut up, Y/N.”
He hits you playfully, and you both laugh, looking up to the ceiling and catching your breaths.
When you’ve stopped panting, you speak up, “Would you be ashamed of me if we were dating?”
“How can you even ask me that? You’re the dopest person ever,” he reassures you, turning his head to the side to look at you.
You laugh, “I can believe you still say dope.”
“What can I say, I’m just a dope person, too, Y/N.”
You roll your eyes at his stupidity, before a pang of sadness rushes through you. For a second, you wonder why, but then you remember why you’re feeling down and repeat your question for Harrison.
“No, but honestly, would you be ashamed of me?”
His blue eyes watch you intensely like it’s very important to him that you understand what he says, “Never.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
He laces your little fingers together, the ‘pinky promise’ an old ritual of yours.
“But why are you asking?” he inquires softly.
“I just- I’m just so damn tired of being his secret, you know?”
He gives you an empathic smile, letting you continue instead of answering your rhetoric question.
“I’m not even sure he likes me like as more than a friend anymore.”
You don’t mention a name, but you both know who you’re talking about. Although neither of your families know, it was clear to both of you from the start that Harrison would figure it out no matter what, and that you might as well tell him yourself.
“That bad, huh?”
You sigh, “Yeah. Not even exaggerating, I’m really not sure.”
“I’m sorry, Y/N, that sucks.”
“Sure does,” you agree, laughing involuntarily at the tragic situation, and Harrison soon joins you.
Then, he says softly, “If you aren’t happy, Y/N, you should let him go. You deserve better.”
“I know,” you whisper, “But I don’t think I can.”
He takes your hand, squeezing it and interlacing your hands, and no words are needed. You know he feels bad for you, and you both know there’s nothing he can do to ease your trouble.
“I wish it was you instead. We’d make such a great couple,” you tell him, trying to lift the mood.
He nods, grinning, “Legendary.”
“Shame we don’t like each other like that, really. Our kids would be so beautiful.”
“Maybe that’s why. Would be unfair to their peers when they’d be so much uglier.”
You shake your head, smiling at the thought.
Then, on a more serious note, “Thanks for being here, Haz.”
“Anytime, Y/N.”
He squeezes your hand once more and then helps you get up.
“If it makes you feel any better, he looked terribly jealous when you hugged me,” Harrison tells you, and though it shouldn’t, you catch yourself being happy with it. At least he’s not totally indifferent.
You return to the party, Harrisons hand laying comfortingly on the swell of your back the whole time, until it’s to go home. He presses a kiss to your cheek and tells you to hit him up soon, and you thank him for being such a good friend. He truly deserves the world.
You wish you could go with him, but still, you stay, having been tricked into helping with the cleaning by Tom’s mother, and really, you’d be happy to if it didn’t involve seeing Tom.
It’s hard to even remember what made you mad when you’re near him, and if that wasn’t enough, you’re afraid that you’ll say something you’ll regret later.
Because while this might be tearing you to pieces, you know it’d be much, much worse if you lost him completely.
Although you are deep in thought, you probably shouldn’t be as startled as you are when he speaks, considering you are cleaning the same room as him.
“I got a bit cold out by the grill, so I went to see if I had a sweater in my room, and I didn’t mean to, but I heard you and Harrison,” he softly tells you, eyes scanning your face for a reaction. You try not to give him one, pursing your lips tightly together and remaining silent.
He sighs, running a hand through the curly locks of his hair.
“Y/N, why didn’t you tell me?”
“Tell you what?” you mutter, looking away.
You wish this conversation wasn’t happening. You don’t even dare to imagine the outcome.
“That you feel like I’m keeping you a secret.”
You scrunch your eyes, looking at him again, “What did you think I felt, Tom? Honestly? You haven’t even told your mom, and we both know you tell your mom everything. I feel like I’m nothing to you.”
Your words are harsh at the beginning, anger in your body, but it quickly deflates and leaves you sad instead, making your last words soft and fragile.
And Tom looks taken back by your statement, stuttering when he replies, “I- I- I guess I just thought we were on the same page. That you didn’t care whether people knew about us or not.”
You roll your eyes, “If you truly believed that, you don’t know me like I thought you did.”
You let go of your hold on the black rubbish bag you’re throwing empty cups into as you wait for his answer.
“I guess you’re right,” he admits with a whisper, “I guess I did know.”
You nod, throat tight.
“Yeah,” you just say.
You stand there, looking at each other in silence, and you don’t even try to hide your tears. If there was anyone but him watching, you probably would have tried, but this is Tom, your best friend, the person that has broken your heart but also someone with hands you wouldn’t hesitate to put your life into.
He takes a small step closer to you, looking at you with desperation.
“I wish we could tell everyone, Y/N, I really do. But you know how my agency feels about my image and my availability,” he pauses, swallowing down a lump in his throat before he continues, “But if my next movie just gets big enough, it will be different, Y/N, I promise. Then they can’t refuse.”
You shake your head, your vision to blurred to see anything, but your mind is surprisingly clear. You don’t believe his words, and really, you just wish he would tell the truth, because to you, it seems that this mess has gotten so bad because of lack of honesty, and you’re done with it.
You’re done with being anxious all the time, not knowing if he’s uncertain about his feelings for you, even doubting whether you’re the only one he goes home to. You’re done with feeling inadequate and unlovable and stupid, waiting around for someone who doesn’t want to come home.
“Far from home was one of the best-selling movies ever, but apparently, that still wasn’t big enough. So, what’ll it be, Tom?”
“Are you asking me to choose between you and my career?”
You shake your head violently, not understanding how he could accuse you for doing such a thing, but then you nod, realising that maybe you are. And surprisingly, you don’t feel selfish doing so.
“Not between me and your career, Tom, but yes, I am asking you to choose between me and the stupid rules of your agency.”
Now, he looks angry, brow scrunched and tight jawline, “My agency and their stupid rules,” he starts, emphasizing the last three words mockingly, “is what gets me jobs, Y/N! They are the reason I can live my dream, don’t you understand?”
You step closer to him, not believing he would dare to treat you like a stubborn child. “Of course, I understand, Tom! I’ve done nothing but understand ever since we started this damn relationship, but I’m fucking sick and tired of it!”
Your loudness seems to surprise Tom, who takes a few steps back from your anger, almost tripping over your discarded rubbish bag.
“Please don’t do this, Y/N. Don’t make me choose,” he begs, and there’s a part of you that wants to give in, but the bigger part of you knows that nothing will change if you do, and that you’ll just stay miserable.
“I’ve known you for most of my life, Tom, and I’ve been in love with you for years, but I can’t do this, not if you’re not in it like I am. I can’t keep giving you my everything when I only receive 30% in return.”
Then, he says those words that you know will haunt you forever, “I’m- I’m- I’m so sorry, Y/N, but I just can’t. Please understand, I just can’t.”
You nod, but you don’t, you don’t understand. He won’t even meet you halfway.
You look at each other, and you watch how he clearly fights to keep himself together, and you can’t stay mad at him when he looks so broken. You’re always putting him first.
“Will you- will you promise me one thing, though?” you ask, voice hoarse and broken.
He nods, eyes wet and lips pressed tight together.
When you speak, there’s a salty taste on your tongue, and it feels like goodbye, “I know there’s so many incredible things out there, and I promise I don’t expect anything else from you anymore, but at least- at least think of me while you’re gone, won’t you?”
A sob escapes his lips when he nods, but he still doesn’t say anything, so you gather your belongings in silence, walking into the hallway, Tom only a few steps behind you.
Your hand has just reached the doorknob when you realize that no matter how hurt you are, you can’t just leave him like this. So, you turn around, throw your things to the floor and hug him, relishing in the smell of his cologne and the soft material of his shirt against your cheek.
His chest is shaking with sobs, and his lips feel chapped when he kisses your forehead like he’s done so many times when you were nervous or sad, even before your friendship turned into something more.
There’s a wet spot on his shirt when you pull away, and you smile through your tears, watching him through your blurred vision.
“I’ll see you around,” you tell him, but you don’t know if you’re lying.
You pick up your things, and he looks like he wants to stop you from leaving, but he just nods and says goodbye with a broken whisper, “Yeah, I’ll see you.”
Then, you close the door behind you, your body a mess while nostalgia, sadness, despair and love fights for dominance in your body.
If you weren’t so busy being heartbroken, you might have wondered if it was worth losing your best friend in return for some months in paradise, spent kissing and making love under the covers. And you would quickly have come to the solution that it wasn’t, that if you could, you would go back and undo all this mess and settle for being his best friend.
Luckily, you don’t think any of these thoughts, not yet. That sorrow is for another day.
   “Ping!”
The screen of your phone lights up along with the sound, telling you you’ve got a message. You figure it’s Jake, asking which chocolate you want or if you need more tampons. You smile at the thought, finding it funny how Jake’s biggest fear seems to be that you don’t run out of sweets and sanitary items when you’re on that time of the month. You wonder if he’s scared you’ll turn into some weird monster, but it’s probably just him being sweet.
However, the text isn’t from Jake.
From: The Worst Spiderman Ever 🤮🕷❤️ (barf, spider and heart emoji)
Hey. I’m home for a couple weeks and I really want to see you
You can’t believe he still has that stupid name on your phone.
You delete all the emojis and text and write his full name without any emojis to follow, but your index finger lingers over the save button. Then, you go back without changing anything.
It feels wrong to do so, like deleting a period of your life that should, at worst, be packed away in a box in your closet and not completely thrown out.
On the other hand, though, the box seems to have jumped out of the closet and into your living room instead, making its presence known where it isn’t appreciated.
Still, there’s a small part of you, the part that was Tom’s friend and nothing else, wants to meet him and see how he’s doing. 
To: The Worst Spiderman Ever 🤮🕷❤️ (barf, spider and heart emoji)
Hi Tom
You don’t want else to say, or write, so you just hit send and put the phone down again, your breath quicker and a spark of panic rising in your body. Even after all this time, he still gives you all the motions.
From: The Worst Spiderman Ever 🤮🕷❤️ (barf, spider and heart emoji)
Please don’t be like this
Be like what, Tom, you wonder, but you just text him the name of a coffee shop and ask him to meet you there in a few hours. If anything needs to be said between you, it should be in person and not through text.
From: The Worst Spiderman Ever 🤮🕷❤️ (barf, spider and heart emoji)
Thank you, Y/N. Really❤️ (heart emoji)
You really hope you’ve made the right decision.
   “Y/N, I’ve been a fool, no, worse than that, I’ve been a big, stupid idiot, but I need you.”
His grip on your hands are tight, and you gently try to get him to let you go, but he doesn’t seem to notice.
“We’ll do it properly this time, tell everyone, and we’ll go on the red carpet together and-“
“Tom,” you interrupt him softly, and you just want him to stop talking. This will get embarrassing for both of you if he keeps going, and you don’t want that.
Unfortunately, he doesn’t let you save him.
“And I’ll be home a lot more, Y/N, I promise. We can travel together, to Paris or Seoul or Rio, and I won’t care who’s watching-“
This time, your voice is a bit louder, hoping it’ll get through to him. “Tom, please, stop,” you plead. Still, it seems like he doesn’t hear you.  
He leans closer to you and looks you right in the eye, “I love you, Y/N. More than anything, and I don’t know why it’s taking me so long to realize, but I do, and I’m terribly sor- Why are you crying?“
You haven’t even noticed your tears before he comments them, but then you carefully, as if he’s made of glass, untangle your hands from each other.
“I’m with someone, Tom,” you tell him, and it feels like a knife to your heart when his face slowly falters as he realizes what you mean.
“I- what- who? When?”
“You don’t know him, Tom. He’s from school.” There’s a flash of relief on his face when he finds out it isn’t someone he knows, maybe even one of his friends, but then the hurt returns.
“When, YN?”
You swallow a lump, looking down at your coffee.
“Almost a year ago,” you tell him, knowing that he won’t understand. That he’ll think that you got over in the span of a minute and moved on, but it isn’t true.
So, before he can say anything, you explain, “He was in one of my classes and had asked me out before, and when you left, I just needed to spend time with someone who didn’t know you, someone who wouldn’t ask or talk about you.”
Most of your friends were friends with Tom, too, or at least they knew him, but you needed to be someone who didn’t.
“I told him from the start that my heart was broken, but he was so patient and waited until I was sure I was ready. He really helped me a lot, Tom.”
Tom nods, and you know he understands. Everyone has different ways of coping, and for all you know, he could have slept with half of the world in this past year. You know he probably did with a couple, and the thought doesn’t make you sick like it used to do.
You’re just sad that he probably didn’t have anyone taking care of him like Jake had taken care of you.
“Does he make you happy, Y/N?”
“I-“ you start, but it’s hard to get the words past your lips when you know that they’ll hurt him.
For a long time, you wanted him to hurt, to know your pain and know that he had lost one of the best things in his life, but now, after doing a lot of growing up, you wish you could find a way not to hurt him. Maybe if you lied, but he’ll probably always be able to see through you.
Knowing you have no other choice, you answer him honestly, “Yeah. He does. He really does.”
He gulps, looking away for a moment. You follow his gaze, watch the busy streets of London packed with stylish locals and less stylish tourists, and you wonder if it still feels like home to him. If home becomes a fleeting place when the whole world is at your disposal. You wonder if you’ll ever know, but you don’t think you will.
And as for yourself, you might never get to travel the world like you used to dream of doing, but you’ve realized it doesn’t matter. You have so much else, so many wonderful people in your life, so much love around you. 
“Do you love him?”
You look at his face and know that he wants you to say no, that he wants this to be like a movie where everything works out in the end, and the guy gets the girl, and everyone lives happily ever after.
But this isn’t one of his beloved movies. This is real life.
“Yeah.”
A tear slips out of his eyes, and you notice they are beginning to turn red. You don’t know if your next words will make him feel better or worse, probably the latter, but you still say them.
“Not the same way I loved you, though. Don’t think anything can really compare to that. But I really do love him.”
It’s clear he tries to contain it, but still, a broken sob leaves him, and every fibre of your body yearns to soothe him, to protect him, but you can’t, just like he couldn’t protect you.
“Do you remember that last day? You told me to think of you when I was gone. How could you think I’d do anything but?”
“Tom, please.”
“I think about you every single day, Y/N, knowing that I made the wrong decision.”
He grips your hands again, this time so tight it turns his knuckles white with desperation.
However, you both know it’s not only your hands you’re talking about when you beg, “Let me go, Tom, you’re hurting me.”
His grip on your hand disappears immediately, his face painted with both sadness and guilt, and you don’t know who’s to blame for the fact that both of you have lost your best friend.
And you wonder if the two of you can work it out, if you can get at least an inkling of your old friendship back, but to be honest, you don’t have the courage to try.
Instead, you leave him there, in a coffee shop in London you used to love. And you know you will never have the strength to go back, not to the coffee shop and not to Tom, both places too haunted by bad memories now.
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