#i would’ve watched it earlier actually if u mentioned that but

[sojutrait]

started bridgerton at my hair appointment. were none of yall gonna mention they fuck raw nasty on this damn show or what

[aemondsbabe]

Stick it Out to the End

summary: michael is desperate to get into oxford's prestigious bullingdon club; unfortunately for him, they command him to do the impossible to gain admittance

pairing: michael gavey x bimbo!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, bimbo reader, mentions of hazing but nothing horrible/extreme, virgin!michael, breast/nipple play, praise kink, piv sex, protected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it), oral sex (f receiving), consensual filming, dirty talk, cursing, what i hope is saltburn-esque humor, mild size kink, mild angst but happy ending, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 12.7k

a/n: images in the header are for aesthetic purposes only & are not used to describe the reader! she's back and she's long as hell but what else is new!!! this is my first time writing bimbo!reader and while she wasn't super bimbo-y, it was fun getting my feet wet! hope y'all enjoy!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

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Michael

Michael couldn’t help but feel his heart speed up in his chest as he wound through the quiet corridors clutching tightly to the cryptic note he’d found stuffed in his pigeonhole that morning – just a page torn out of a standard notebook covered hastily written red ink; wholly un-intimidating as far as cryptic notes were concerned. Really, he was surprised to see they didn’t put more effort in; with as secretive and imperious as this little club was, he had been expecting some sort of extravagant stationary, perhaps even some gold embossing. 

Coming to a stop in front of an unassuming janitor’s closet door, he narrows his eyes behind the gold frames of his glasses, staring at the door with a nearly accusatorial expression. Michael swivels his head once more, his brows furrowed as he checks and re-checks every door in the vicinity before turning back to the one he stands before. Scoffing, he unfolds the note with a little irritated sigh and quickly scans the page again, mouthing the words to himself for the millionth time that day. 

The riddle had been easy enough to figure out, some trivial little lines about dead men walking, the mob, finding God, and looking to one’s heart pointed right toward some hush hush basement beneath the Merton College Chapel. That, and it didn’t take a genius to see that each line consisted of a specific number of words, pointing him right to the very door he stood in front of now – 129. 

Fucking amateurs, he’d thought after cracking the code in under half an hour. But that was earlier. And now, as he stares at the stupid dull grey janitor’s closet door in front of him, Michael can’t stop the little tendrils of doubt from creeping into his periphery. He’s sure this is the right door and positive this is the right place and yet… janitor’s closet. He checks his watch, 11:50 PM on the dot, and glances up and down the dark, shadowy corridors once more, half expecting one of the twatty rich assholes to jump out and start snickering at him, making fun of him for thinking that a no one like him would’ve ever received an invite to a club like this. 

Shaking his head, he reaches for the doorknob anyway, he’s come this far so he may as well. He freezes a little when it actually turns and his blue eyes go wide when he pushes the door open, shivering a little as he’s met with a wall of cool, dank air – eau de basement, just as he’d expected. A little actually impressed sigh passes his lips when he pokes his head in, an apprehensive smile blooming on his lips as he takes in the eerie red lighting spilling up the stairwell from the God-knows-what downstairs. 

He winces as the door squeaks when he tugs it open but he doesn’t stop, emboldened now as he knows he had been right once again. He takes the stairs quickly, probably too quickly given that he hasn’t a fucking clue what or who could be down here, but before he can dwell on the idea too much, he’s faced with another corridor. This one, unlike the ones upstairs, is narrow and brick-lined and leads in only one direction, straight to another closed door at the other end. 

Michael squints against the bright red light coming from a spotlight that had been haphazardly set up on the stone floor and walks down the hallway, his steps speeding up as he hears the janitor’s door above him open and close once more. His breath hitches a little as he opens the second door and quickly steps inside, like ripping off a band-aid. 

He freezes once more when a strong hand latches onto his shoulder and quickly jerks him further into the room, making him yelp as he stumbles, trying to keep pace with whoever the hell is leading him. 

“What the –”

Before he has time to so much as blink, his back thuds against a brick wall and finally he looks up, the vicious scowl he’d prepared morphing into a look of disturbed confusion as he eyes a row of other students, about fifteen and all men from the looks of it, dawned with black –

Oh, Christ, are those ski masks? He thinks as he eyes them up and down, How fucking banal… at least it’s not hooded cloaks. He nearly rolls his eyes as he scans the rest of the room, taking in the dim lighting interspersed with blues and greens from more of those stupid party boy spotlights. Glancing to the side, he sees another boy in his year, some guy he only knew from a few classes and passing glances in the hallways, but even still he’s comforted to not be alone down here, no matter how cliché this whole affair seemed. 

His blue eyes snap forward as the door, the only door, to the room is opened once more and some other poor sap is hastily dragged across the room, only to be smacked on the wall to his left. Again, it’s just some other boy Michael knows from classes, though he doesn’t know why he expects any different – it’s not as if he knows many people outside of the forced proximity of a lecture hall. Which was really his only reason for putting up with this bother, for seeking it out in the first place; a quick flash of him placing a tightly folded up sticky note with his name and pigeonhole number in an old, beaten up copy of King Lear in the library played in his mind – the price he seemed to pay for loneliness. 

Distantly, the bells of the chapel began to chime, signaling the hour. Once, twice, and eventually twelve times – midnight. Time to start the show, Michael surmises. 

“Welcome, initiates,” one of the hooded men says in a tone that makes Michael glare judgmentally, his voice pitched down like some idiotic knock-off Darth Vader. He steps forward from the row they stand in and holds his arms out open at his sides, “Consider this your first foray into the Bullingdon Club.”

Again, he has to bite the inside of his cheek to hold in a scoff. This was all just so… juvenile? He was beginning to sincerely doubt that this was the über clandestine club that granted its members all sorts of connections to various businesses, societies, and insider information that even the richest of the rich couldn’t buy. 

Unfortunately, his face seemed to betray more of his emotions than he intended and the masked boy steps forward once more, his dark eyes zeroing in on Michael. 

“You,” he says gruffly, pointing a finger in his direction, “Something you wanna say, initiate?”

Out of habit, he pushed his glasses up on his nose before he spoke, perhaps foolishly bold given the situation. 

“Doesn’t this all seem a bit much for three people?” He scoffs, shaking his head slightly, “I mean, masks, really?”

The hooded boy stops for a second and studies Michael closely, one hand on his hip, “What’s wrong with the masks?”

“Well, what’s the point? There’s, what, fifteen or sixteen of you? And three of us?” He asks, glancing around the room, which he now realized very clearly used to be some run-of-the-mill storage room, probably forgotten about by now.

The boy laughs sarcastically and shrugs his shoulders a bit, his voice back to its natural pitch, “It wouldn’t really be a secret thing if we just invited half the student body, mate.”

Michael supposes his reasoning is sound and says as much with a little hum and nod of his head, eyebrows raising dismissively. 

“Anything else?” The masked boy asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“The masks don’t really disguise you lot that well,” he observes, pointing at one of the other boys standing in the row, “That’s Harry from Multivariable Calculus.”

“Shit…” Harry mutters under his breath, the sound carrying through the concrete room. A few of the other boys in the row lean over and place comforting hands on his shoulders and murmur words of encouragement, much to Michael’s dismay.

“Why’re you here, initiate?” The lead boy asks, turning back to Michael.

“Dunno,” he shrugs again, pushing his glasses up his nose, “Friends, I guess.”

A couple of the boys in the row make little noises, mutters of empathy that make the blond’s eyebrows furrow together in confusion as he glances up and down the line. 

“And this was your first thought? A secret society?” Harry from Multivariable Calculus asks with a little laugh, “Not like… chess or something?” 

“Don’t really like chess…” Michael says with a little shrug. Apparently a good enough answer for Harry, who makes a little noise of understanding and nods his head. 

After another moment, the lead boy clears his throat, which shuts up the rest. “Anyway,” he says, his voice falsely low once more. “Each of you will be given a task…,” his dark eyes glance between Michael and the other two boys as he paces in front of them, “Perfectly customized to challenge you, to push you to your absolute limits.” 

The masked boy pauses his little speech and gestures back to three of the other boys standing in the row behind him who then step forward and walk over to the dank brick wall that Michael and the other two boys stand against. He studies the boy that walks towards him carefully, his eyes narrowing in suspicion when he notices how much shorter he appears to be.

Finally, the boy comes to stand before him and presents a plain white envelope, though Michael’s lips spread into a hateful smirk when he sees an all too familiar pair of old, beat up trainers on the boy’s feet. 

“Oliver?!” He hisses meanly, shock lacing his voice as he jerks back the hand he had reached out for the envelope, wincing as his elbow collides with the cool wall behind him. He glances around the room, noting the few pairs of eyes that were on him, before fixing his gaze on the boy before him once more with a harsh glare, “You’re in Bullingdon?”

The boy in front of him hesitates for a second, cutting a sideways glance toward a taller boy that was busy presenting an envelope to the boy to Michael’s left, before he sighs and looks back at him, blue eyes peeking out of the holes in his ski mask. “Yeah,” he huffs, shrugging his shoulders defensively, “How’d you know it was me, then?”

“You look like a goddamn twelve year old!” Michael jeers, his voice low and vicious as his hands curl into fists at his sides, “How’d you manage to get into this club anyway?” He questions, seething, “They only let you in if you have the money or the marks and I know for a fucking fact you don’t have either.”

Oliver sighs again and rolls his eyes, which makes him see red and grit his teeth, although he doesn’t miss how the shorter boy’s eyes cut to the side again quickly. He opens his mouth, but before he can get a word in edgewise, the blond cuts him off with a little mocking laugh.

“Don’t tell me that’s fucking Catton,” Michael groans lowly with a shake of his head, breathing heavily as he feels the same sense of anger and betrayal he’d felt all those months ago well up in him once more, transporting him right back to the stupid damn pub, “You’ve got to be bloody kidding me, is this shite little club only full of cunts?”

“Look, I’m –” 

Oliver starts to speak again, only to be cut off when the head boy traipses over to where they are, coming to stand ominously behind him with his arms clasped behind his back. His dark eyes dart between the two boys before he speaks.

“Problem over here, lads?”

“No,” Oliver answers quickly, staring warily up at Michael as he practically shoves the envelope into his arms, “Just complete the task, initiate. You have thirty-six hours.” 

Before Michael can blink, Oliver turns his back and stalks back over to the other boys, taking his place in the row once more. The head boy looks Michael up and down appraisingly before nodding to the letter in his hands with a sly smirk.

“I can’t wait to see how you fare with that one, Gavey,” he says, his voice low and threatening, as if he’s in on the most delicious joke, “Remember, thirty-six hours, initiate.” He chuckles softly and departs, returning to stand in the center of the room. 

Everyone stands still for a moment, Michael and the other two boys to his left and right holding their respective envelopes nervously, unsure if they were supposed to open them now or not. Thankfully, the head boy clears his throat, commanding all eyes to him once again.

“Initiates,” he says slowly, his voice no doubt already hoarse from this little farce, “Failure to complete your tasks will result in a permanent ban from Bullingdon; no second chances. We expect results as well as proof of those results,” his dark eyes scan over the three boys once more, one corner of his mouth turned up into a mean smirk, “We’ll be seeing you back in this location Sunday at noon. Your thirty-six hours begin now… have fun.” He finishes with a taunting laugh before turning and exiting from the room, the old door creaking as he pulls it open before disappearing into the faint red glow of the hallway, followed by the rest of the fifteen boys in an orderly line.

As soon as the old door closes, the sound of paper tearing echoes around the dimly lit basement as Michael and the other two boys hastily tear open their envelopes. Pulling out a little slip of paper, his eyes go wide as a wave of dread washes over him. His eyes scan over the paper again and again as he nervously shoves his glasses back up his nose once more, silently willing the chicken-scratch words on the paper to somehow change, to give him some other command. 

His heart is pumping so loudly in his ears that he misses it when one of the other boys tries getting his attention, his head snapping up suddenly as a hand waves in front of it.

“Oi!”

“W-What?” 

“What did they give you?” The boy asks, nodding at the scrap of paper in Michael’s hand.

He clears his throat and tries his best to come off as casual, though he hardly cares with the way thoughts begin racing through his mind. “Oh, um,” he starts, glancing down to read over the paper once more, “I just uh, have to sleep with someone is all.”

The other two boys gape at him for a moment before groaning frustratedly. The one that had first spoken to him holds his paper out and smacks it disdainfully with the back of his hand.

“What the hell?” He asks gruffly, glancing between his paper and Michael, “Why’s yours so bloody easy?”

“For real,” sighs the second boy, rubbing the back of his head, “Ours are damn near impossible. They must already be decided on you to go so soft. How am I meant to steal the fucking Selden Map from Bodleian?” He laments, brows furrowed as he stares down at the paper in his hands.

“Yeah, and I have to transfer ten thousand pounds out of the chancellor’s bank account and into mine!” The first boy sighs, shaking his head, “At least your mum’s head of conservatorship here, you can at least get within a stone’s throw of the map. I have to commit fucking wire fraud!” 

The two boys grumble for another moment as Michael silently descends into a tailspin, his blue eyes unfocused as he stares at one of the dingy brick walls of the basement, trying desperately to formulate a plan, any plan. He merely glances up as the other to head for the door, spitballing ideas for each of their tasks.

“Isn’t your dad the president of Julius Baer? Can’t you just get him to pull strings?”

“Oh, yeah, fantastic idea! I’ll just ring him and ask the old man to commit a felony! What could possibly go wrong there?”

Michael tries to tune out their bickering as the three of them ascend the staircase and trail out into the hallway of Merton College Chapel once more; the two other boys don’t pay him any mind as they continue whispering amongst themselves, their voices trailing quietly down the hallway as he leans with his back against the cool metal of the janitor’s closet door. 

Sighing, he reads over the directive again, his blue eyes catching on the sharply scrawled letters of a very familiar name, one that makes his cheeks flush and his heart race. He swallows nervously, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.

How could they know to do this? He wonders sheepishly. It’s not like he’d mentioned her to anyone; hell, he’d never even said so much as three words to her! No, his pathetic little crush was entirely in his mind. 

Too much of a coward to even say hi, he bemoans, trying to stave off the sense of shame he felt as he considered how many times he’d finished with her name on his lips, her pretty face and soft curves and sweet smell and little girly outfits whirling around his head since he’d spotted her on the first fucking day; he’d pined ever since and she didn’t even know he existed! How could she?

This is fucking impossible, he thinks miserably, wishing that he had any other task. He’d rather steal the Queen’s own goddamn family jewels than this. He glances at his watch once more and groans when he sees it’s almost already two in the morning; pushing himself up off the door, he hangs his head as he scurries back to his dorm room, thoughts spiraling as he plots. 

You

A laugh bubbles up past your lips as you sway your hips, your whole body vibrating as “Umbrella” blasts through the speakers while you dance with your friends, partying to celebrate the end of term. 

“You can run into my arms, it’s okay, don't be alarmed!” You sing happily, yours and your friends voices mingling together with another peal of laughter; you take another sip of your drink as you move along with the beat of the song, savoring the fizzy strawberry daiquiri as you begin to feel a bit warm from the little rush of alcohol, already on your third drink of the night. 

You smile proudly as you spot Felix in the crowd, his hazel eyes already fixed on you, or well, fixated on your chest. His attention makes you preen and you bite your lower lip, the sickly sweet taste of your cherry lip gloss filling your mouth as you purposefully bounce up and down on the balls of your feet. 

The thin straps of your pastel pink dress hold on for dear life as your chest heaves enticingly, and you giggle when you see those hazel eyes widen just a bit, no doubt tracing over the glittering chain of your necklace, following down to where it settles, a little sparkly pink diamond nestling temptingly at your cleavage. You teasingly wink, blushing a little when you get a wink back, and go back to dancing with your friends, knowing from experience that Felix preferred to approach rather than be approached. 

You dance with your friends for a few more moments, grinding up against any warm body you can find as a raunchier song begins pumping through the speakers, before you feel eyes on you yet again. Smiling at the attention, you glance around again, the low, colorful lighting of the pub making it hard to tell exactly which direction your admirer’s coming from. 

Your eyes flit over a few familiar faces, you can’t help but sigh in relief when you notice that Oliver’s eyes are thankfully planted firmly on someone that is not you, though a confused little crease forms between your brows when you realize that Felix’s aren’t either. Turning your head, you sway along to the music still as you look around quickly, your feet beginning to ache finally from the precious little satin Chanel heels buckled around your ankles. 

Your eyes finally lock onto an unexpected gaze, a fresh wash of pink coloring your cheeks as blue eyes glance shyly away from you. A little giggle titters past your lips as you lean over to one of your friends, patting her shoulder to get her attention.

“You know who that blond guy is? With the glasses?” You call over the music, nodding over in your admirer’s direction as he stands awkwardly back against the wall by the entrance, clutching a still-foamy pint. 

She glances over before turning back to you with a little shrug. “Michael something, I think!” She says, her breath warm as she leans in closer so you can hear her, “I thought Oliver knew him!”

Your eyes immediately find the brunette, predictably following Felix around like a lost little puppy, before you look back over at Michael. You can’t help but feel a bit bad when you see him quickly look away from your direction again before staring intently into his pint glass, one hand shoved in the pocket of his khaki pants. 

“I’m gonna take a breather for a second!” You yell over the loud music, leaning in close and cupping a hand over her ear. 

“Aw, babe, come on!” She pouts playfully, tilting her head at you, “Stay longer!”

You shake your head with another little laugh and gesture at your feet, “These are sooo cute but they’re killing me!” You laugh, finishing off the last sip of your drink, “I’ll be over by the notice board!” You tell her, blowing a kiss as you walk away from the dance floor of the small, cramped pub. 

Finally, you reach the little area by the front door and lean back against the wall, taking in a much-needed deep breath as you pull your little tube of lip gloss out of your bra and carefully reapply some more, smirking when you glance over out of the corner of your eye and see a certain blond boy already shyly eyeing you. 

Rubbing your lips together with a little pouty pop, you tuck your gloss back in your bra once more before slowly approaching Michael, prettily manicured hands clasped behind your back to help shamelessly push your chest out more. His wide eyed stare makes you giggle and blush as you study him, eyes flitting appreciatively up and down his lithe frame; so much potential hidden away under a little button down and khakis. 

“Haven’t seen you here before,” you tease, smirking when he blushes and all but chokes on his beer, coughing for a few seconds before finally speaking.

“I… Me?” He asks awkwardly, glancing around for seemingly anyone else you could be talking to.

Lucky for him, you find his awkwardness endearing. Truthfully, you had for months, never missing the way his eyes always happened upon you in a crowd. There was something impressive about the boy, something that had made your mind drift to him on more than one occasion, even if you were already under someone else. 

“Of course you, silly,” you laugh softly, leaning against the wall next to him and tilting your head curiously, “You’re Michael, right?”

His eyes go wide again and nods wordlessly before finding his voice. “Yeah, Michael,” he says with a reserved little smile, “Gavey! Michael Gavey…” He adds awkwardly, cheeks flushing even more when you giggle, seemingly charmed by his inability to string two words together. He nods as you introduce yourself.

“I know,” he says before blinking, eyes going wide behind his gold framed glasses as he awkwardly glances away, “I just… I mean I’ve heard your name before, that’s all.”

“That’s all, huh?” You echo with a flirty little giggle, twirling a lock of hair around your finger as you let the moment linger, just wanting to push him a little. “What’re you reading?” You ask curiously, cocking your head to the side a little.

“Maths,” he nods quickly before looking down into his pint glass once more as if fizzling beer is the most interesting thing in the world, “I don’t really like it all that much, though… I mostly only picked it because I’m good at it.”

“Ooh,” you coo softly, nodding along with his words as you watch him carefully, “You must be wicked smart, I can’t do maths to save my life.” You comment with a little giggle, biting your lip when he seems to perk up at that comment and looks up at you with a little grin. 

“I can do it in my head,” he says lowly, an unexpectedly cocky edge to his voice that has your heart picking up in your chest, “Ask me a sum,” he says, a challenging glimmer in his eyes. 

You hum softly, biting your lip as you think for a second, “Uhm, seventy-two plus a hundred and thirteen?”

“One eighty-five,” he chuckles after no more than a second before scoffing a little, “Come on, give me one that’s hard, love.”

Love? The little pet name makes you raise an eyebrow before you laugh softly. “What do you mean a hard one?” You giggle, shaking your head, “That one was hard!”

“That was hard for you?” He teases, making your cheeks tingle as a pink flush settles over your skin, “What’re you reading, then?”

“Art history!” You chirp proudly, chuckling nervously when you see him roll his eyes a bit, “What? Something wrong with that?”

He shakes his head dismissively, quickly polishing off the last of his pint before setting the empty class on a table and turning back to you, pushing his glasses up his nose with a grin, “Ask me another one, then. Biggest numbers you can think of.”

You don’t know why, but something about his little challenge has you blushing again, like he’s testing you somehow. But still, you take a moment to think of some numbers, biting your lip and quirking your eyes up toward the ceiling. 

“Six hundred thirty-two times… eight hundred ninety-one,” you hum, cocking your head to the side as you watch him closely. His eyes seem to glaze over, only for a second, before once again he’s spouting off numbers like a calculator. 

“Five hundred sixty-three thousand, one hundred and twelve.” 

Your eyebrows raise at that as you gawk at him. “Wow…,” you breathe after a moment, blinking as you stare up at him, “You’re, like, super smart, then?”

“Suppose so,” he says, smiling shyly again as he tucks both hands into the pockets of his khaki pants.

You study him for a moment as the conversation lulls, finding something endlessly fascinating about the boy; the way he could swing from being so cocky and self assured to shy and awkward makes your stomach do summersaults. Turning your head, you spot your group of friends still dancing and you look back at Michael with a little sigh as another upbeat song blasts loudly through the pub. 

“D’you wanna get out of here?” You ask, smirking when he looks up at you shyly.

“W-What?”

“My dorm’s only, like, a minute from here,” you flirt, sweet and enticing as you make him blush somehow more, “We could go somewhere more… quiet?”

He stares at you for a moment, shocked that you’re asking him of all people to come back to yours before he nods and nervously runs a hand through his wheat colored hair, unsuccessfully trying to act casual. “Yeah, yeah, I can do that.”

“Yay!” You giggle happily, flirtatiously grabbing one of his hands as you saunter past him, heading for the exit, “C’mon, it’s like a five minute walk!” He nods wordlessly and you can’t help but smirk as he follows you like a lost little puppy. 

True to your word, it’s only a few minutes later when you and Michael reach your dorm room, after you’d stopped for a minute at the entrance to your hall to chat with Farleigh, who seemed very interested in the nerdy boy following at your heels. You just couldn’t wipe the smirk off your face as you and Michael left him standing at the doors, mouth open and a wicked little gleam in his eyes; no doubt, he’d immediately scurried off to the King’s Arms. 

The door to your room opens with a tiny squeak, blasted old building, and you all but prance inside, turning back to the blond boy still lingering in the doorway with a smile. 

“Am I going to have to invite you in like a vampire?” You joke with a little laugh as you bend down to quickly undo the buckles of your heels, letting out a relieved sigh when you finally step out of them, leaving you in frilly white ankle socks.  

Michael finally steps into your room with a huffed laugh and quickly kicks off his shoes, you smirk when you see his Star Wars themed socks. “‘M no vampire, love,” he quips, gold framed eyes darting around your room as he looks over every detail. You grin at the little blush on his cheeks and perch on the edge of your bed to watch him, head tilted ever so slightly. 

“It’s, uh, it’s cute in here,” he observes, his voice a low hum as he takes in your frilly, lacy curtains, plush white rug, and equally girlish floral bedding, all encased in the faint pink glow of the heart-shaped fairy lights strung up around the room, “Just like how I imagined…” He breathes, so lowly you doubt he meant to say that bit aloud. 

“Like you imagined?” You echo with a little giggle, quickly reapplying your lip gloss before setting the little tube on the corner of your desk. 

“I just… I – It’s just very… you, is all I meant,” he stutters, running a hand through his hair awkwardly, the apples of his cheeks flushed a dark pink. 

His awkwardness is so endearing, you can’t help but grin. The more time you spend with him, the more interesting he seems to become; this bumbling, nervous boy is so different from the one you’ve seen on campus so many times. On campus, he’s comfortable, quiet still, but with a definite air of confidence – clearly in his element as he prowls through bookshelves in the library or explains some complex math formula in the quad. 

“So, you think about me often, then?” Your voice stays sweet, innocent almost, though you can’t help but tease him; he’s so pretty when he blushes. 

“No!” He answers quickly, whipping his head toward you from where he’d been studying the various pictures tacked up on the walls, everything from boy band posters to stills from Clueless and Legally Blonde. “I mean, yes, sometimes, I…,” he fumbles again and pushes his glasses up his sharp nose, “I think about you a normal amount.” He says finally, glancing at you quickly before looking away. 

You hum softly and stand before walking toward him with a kind smile, though you don’t miss the way he keeps glancing down at your cleavage, or the way his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat when he swallows nervously. 

“A normal amount?” 

“Mhm,” he nods, gaze unsure as you come to stand in front of him, teeth biting into your plush lower lip as you twirl a piece of hair through your fingers, “As much as I think of anyone else.”

“So…,” you breathe, drawing out the word as you reach up and fiddle with the collar of his button down shirt, the turquoise gingham a bright blue blip among all the blush tones of your room, “Every time I’ve caught you looking at my tits in the library or in the quad or in the hallways… that was just a normal amount?”

You giggle as his eyes go wide, his lips opening and closing like a fish out of water. Deciding to take mercy on him, you run a finger down his chest, playfully fiddling with the buttons on his shirt.

“Relax, I’m not mad,” you shake your head, smiling when the tension in his shoulders visibly eases, “Why wouldn’t I want a cutie like you staring?”

His lips part at that as he sucks in a little breath, blue eyes widening behind his glasses. “You think I’m… cute?” He asks breathlessly, heart pounding under your fingertip. 

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip once more as you nod, cocking your head to the side just slightly as you peer up at him. “‘Course I do, honey, what’s not to like?”

Again, he gawks at you, blinking in shock and swallowing nervously.

“I –” 

“I do have one question though…,” you tease, pouting a bit as you slowly and carefully undo the very top button on his shirt, relishing the way his breath hitches in his throat. 

“Y-Yeah?” His voice breaks, making you giggle while he blushes somehow deeper.

“Mhm,” you nod, undoing the second button and pausing when you find a splash of hair across his chest, the same shiny wheat color as the hair on his head, causing a familiar knot to begin twisting itself up in your belly, “Why were you at the end of term party?”

He blinks for a second, evidently taken off guard. “I… W-Was it invite only?”

His question nearly makes you snort and you shake your head, the corners of your lips twitching as you try not to laugh. “No, sweetie,” you peer up at him through your lashes as you rest your hand against his bare chest, smirking ever so slightly when he shivers, “I just meant, I haven’t seen you at parties before… doesn’t really seem like your kind of thing.” 

“I, well,” he stammers, the bottoms of his glasses fogging up from the heat radiating off his cheeks, “I just –”

“It’s for that club, yeah?” You ask finally, giggling at the shocked expression on his face.

“How do –”

“You lot are not nearly as sneaky as you think,” you laugh cheekily, bouncing excitedly on the balls of your feet, “Plus, I heard Felix and Oliver whispering about something to do with tasks a few weeks ago… and boys are very bad at keeping secrets once you get their cocks out.” You add with a little giggle, taking Michael’s hand once more and dragging him over to your plush bed. You sit him on the edge before all but climbing in his lap, smiling cheekily as you straddle his thighs, your knees digging into your soft bedding.

“So,” you start, holding onto his shoulders to balance yourself and smiling a little when he finally touches you, lightly resting his hands on your hips, “What’s your task, hm? I heard they made them, like, particularly brutal this year.”

“I don’t think I should say,” Michael murmurs with a little shake of his head, making you pout.

“Oh, come on!” You bounce on his lap a little, not missing the way his eyes seem to be drawn to your breasts like magnets, “I want to help! Is it something at the King’s Arms?”

“N-No, I really don’t think –”

“I know they keep the important rugby trophies there,” you think aloud, still playing dumb, just wanting him to say it, “Is that it? D’you have to steal one? One of the boys that works there owes me, I could get him to let you in after hours…” You prattle on, speaking faster and faster as Michael shakes his head beneath you.

Finally, he seems to reach a breaking point and his grip on your hips tightens. “I have to fuck you!” He blurts out before sighing.

“Oh, really?”

“I… I have to fuck you –”

“Mhm?”

“And prove I did somehow.”

“How interesting!”

He narrows his eyes at that and peers up at you suspiciously, studying you carefully. You can’t help but giggle, loving the way you feel when his eyes are on you, and you smirk when he finally blinks in realization.

“You… you knew this whole time, didn’t you?”

A sly smile spreads across your lips as you nod, squirming excitedly on his lap. “Like I said,” you chuckle with a little shrug, “Not. Sneaky!” You tease, punctuating each word with a little boop to the tip of his nose, unable to resist. 

He stays silent for a moment, gazing up at you with a strange mixture of awe and unease before he finally speaks through a deep sigh. “So, I suppose this is the part where you tell me to leave?”

Well, that comment throws you off. You cock your head to the side, confused, as your eyebrows furrow together. “Why would I ask you to leave?”

He sighs again and grits his teeth, looking dejectedly at the floor. “Come on, love,” he mutters, looking anywhere but you, “I-It’s not like you’d ever want to –”

“Ever want to what?” You ask with a frown, gently grabbing at his chin and tilting his head up, forcing him to meet your gaze, “You think I don’t wanna fuck you, honey?”

“Well, I –”

“Michael,” you say pointedly, raising your brows as you smirk slightly, staring deeply into his blue eyes, “I’m the one that came onto you, yeah?”

“I… I suppose.”

“Mhm,” you hum, nodding your head as you run your fingers through his short hair, not missing the little sigh that leaves his lips when you push yourself closer to him, your chest pressing tightly against his, “And while I’m not thrilled at our first time being for some stupid little task –”

“It’s,” he cuts you off shyly, shaking his head ever so slightly, “It’s – I’ve never…” He stammers, nervously gripping at your waist once more. 

You can’t help but smile softly, so charmed by him over and over. You nod your head knowingly, raising your brows just a bit. “I know, honey,” you whisper reassuringly, “We don’t have to, I’ll let you take a pair of my panties or whatever else, but we don’t need to do anything.”

He sighs up at you again, so taken with you he feels like he could scream, and shakes his head more, grabbing at your hips tighter, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. “N-No, I… I want to,” he nods, swallowing anxiously, “I do, I just… don’t really know what I’m doing.”

You nod again, listening carefully as he speaks. “So, is it all new or…?”

He shakes his head and smiles a little, shyly, though the sight of it still makes that knot in your belly tighten further, making you blush on his lap while butterflies swirl around inside you. “I’ve kissed before,” he says lowly, chuckling awkwardly as he seems to get bolder, causing you to shudder when he lightly rubs his hands over your waist and hips, “And done… hand stuff.”

You giggle at his boyish explanation and bite your lip when you smile at him, wiggling in his lap as a heat begins to settle at the apex of your thighs. “Can I kiss you, honey?” 

His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat again, making you want so badly to press soft, glossy kisses to it, but you resist, determined to make this good for him. 

“Yeah,” he nods eagerly, blue eyes fixated on your lips.

You smile softly before leaning in and finally pressing your lips against his, both of you sighing at once. One of his hands stays at your hip while the other comes to rest in the small of your back, pressing you more tightly to him as your lips move together, his motions surprisingly fluid and practiced. 

You make a small noise in the back of your throat when you feel his tongue licking at your bottom lip, and eagerly allow him access with a little sigh. Your fingers busy themselves with unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, making him shudder beneath you when you skim your hands over his bare chest and stomach as his tongue flows with your own, the bitter, coffee-ish flavor of the pint he’d had earlier still on his tongue.

Impatient, you pull back long enough to look at him for reassurance, smiling when you earn a little nod. You kiss him once more before tugging his shirt off, flushing when he groans lowly as you trail kisses down over his jaw and neck before swiping your tongue greedily over his Adam’s apple, making his breath hitch. 

“F-Fuck,” he sighs brokenly, bolding tracing over your thigh until his fingers are tucked up under the silky, baby pink material of your dress. His touches make you shiver as goosebumps bloom over your skin, making you whine against the pale column of his throat, “Can I?” He breathes, fingers toying with a strap of your dress while the others slowly inched the bottom of it up higher and higher. 

“God, please,” you mewl, nodding against his throat, your head on his shoulder. He shudders at the feel of your breath on his neck and nods once before tugging at the bottom of your dress. You sit up to help him, whining when you feel his hard length pressing against your thin, lacy underwear, “You don’t need to ask, Michael. Want you to take me however you want.” You whisper as he tugs your dress over your head, blue eyes meeting yours for a second as he nods before they skim lower, widening as he takes you in on his lap wearing only a bra and panties. 

“Holy shit,” he breathes, making you giggle shyly as you lean in and softly kiss over his cheeks, “You have…you’re – you’re perfect,” he sighs, brazenly cupping your breasts, skimming his thumbs over your nipples through the thin pink fabric of your bra and smiling proudly when he feels them harden at his touch, “You’re perfect, but these are… holy shit.” He repeats, his voice breathy and mesmerized as he takes in your chest for another moment while you softly card your fingers through his golden hair. 

You gasp through a little giggle when you feel his length twitch, even through his trousers, and wiggle on his lap, blushing when the movement earns you a broken groan. “Yeah?” You whisper cheekily, watching as he marvels at your chest for a second longer before quickly unclasping your bra and shrugging out of it, tossing it down onto the floor with his shirt and your dress, “What about now?” You tease, proudly arching your back as you bite your lip.

He groans again, louder than he has all evening, and instantly ducks his head down. The feel of his soft lips wrapping eagerly around one of your nipples makes you cry out, gasping sharply as he sucks at the sensitive bud before he runs his tongue over it. You cradle the back of his head in your hands, fingers lightly pulling at the short strands of hair, as he switches from one breast to the other, kneading whichever one is free with his hand. 

Needing something, anything, you finally pull him off of your chest after a few moments, laughing when he all but whines, and smiling even more when you take in his disheveled appearance – blond hair sticking up at odd angles from where you’d run your fingers through it, cheeks flushed as his glasses sit crooked on his nose, and his blue eyes staring up at you hungrily. 

You shift back on his thighs just enough to snake a hand between the two of you and he gasps when you cup the bulge pressing against the zipper of his khakis. “You want me to suck your cock?” You ask cheekily, lightly squeezing at his length. 

He surprises you by shaking his head no,gulping slightly with an awkward laugh before answering. “I do, I really fucking do, love,” he breathes, kneading at your breasts as he stares up at you sheepishly, “B-But I really want to last and if you… if you suck it, I –”

“Okay, okay,” you stop him with a kiss, “We’ll table it for next time.” 

“N-Next time?” He questions, fighting to keep his eyes open as you press kisses against his neck once more. You nod against his shoulder and press kisses up to just beneath his ear. 

“I’m not letting you go that easy, honey,” you whisper, chuckling when he shivers. You spend another moment softly kissing and biting at his neck before speaking again, “Have you ever eaten anyone out?” You question, pulling back to look at him.

He shakes his head, his eyes flicking between both of yours as he looks up at you. “No.” He answers simply, his voice hardly a whisper. 

You can’t help but smirk coyly and cock your head to the side, running a finger through the little patch of hair on his chest just to see him shudder. “You wanna try it?”

He nods eagerly and surprises you once again by quickly swinging you around, maneuvering you until your head rests on the pillows of your bed. You squeal at the movement, laughing with him as he settles over you, his narrow hips slotting easily between your thighs as you silently marvel at his unexpected strength, the shock of it going right between your legs. 

“You want me to lick your pussy?” He asks lowly, grinning when he sees your eyes widen ever so slightly. 

“You’re quite something, huh?” You breathe, still gazing up at him in surprise. 

“Observant,” he shrugs, smirking as he sits up, kneeling between your legs, “You aren’t the only one who is, love.” He teases, quickly undoing his belt and trousers and groaning as he pushes them down his thighs, stopping at his knees. 

Your eyes go wide at the size of his length, it’s clearly very impressive and it’s not even out of his plaid boxers yet. That smirk stays plastered on his face as he leans back down to hover over you, hastily removing his glasses and sitting them on your desk before sloppily kissing you for a moment, surprising you yet again by trailing wet kisses down your neck. 

“Michael…” You sigh dreamily, arching your back toward him when he starts kissing over your chest. He groans from deep in his chest, mouth pressed against the fat of your breast. 

“Fucking hell,” he curses, teasing your nipple again with the tip of his tongue, “Say it again, love.” 

His simple command sends shivers down your spine and you mewl, squirming underneath him, “M-Michael!” You moan again, fumbling over your words as he sucks at your breast again before he lifts his head. 

“Good girl,” he purrs with a sly, easy smirk that makes your heart jump, a soft sigh tumbling past your lips. He shifts further down the bed, kissing down over your ribs and stomach, his confidence seemingly growing every time he presses his lips against your skin; the thought makes your head spin.

Finally, he hooks his fingers into the lacy sides of your panties, and his eyes peer up at you as he tugs them down over your hips before flinging them onto the floor. “Oh, my God…,” he sighs, staring greedily at your pussy, a broken groan sounds from his throat when you spread your legs more. 

You bite your lip and giggle, smiling shyly as you tangle your fingers in his hair once more. “Like what you see?” 

He nods his head rapidly, making you chuckle again as he stares up at you, an almost pained expression on his face. “I… uh, w-what now?” 

He’s so endearing, you can’t help the little sigh that leaves you and you sit up a little, leaning back on an elbow as you use your other hand to spread your center open. You bite your bottom lip once more when he whines a little, seeing you all spread out before him, flushed folds already slick and shiny. 

“Lick here, honey,” you whimper as you skim your fingers over your clit, so keyed up from only a few kisses that you gasp a little when you feel yourself clench; Michael looks like he may pass out. 

Ever the dutiful student, he gives you one last look before diving in. Your head falls back with a whiny gasp as his tongue snakes over your clit, just as you’d instructed. A long, shuddery moan leaves him, vibrating against your cunt and you watch as his blue eyes all but roll back in his head. 

“Just like that, Michael,” you praise, tugging at his hair ever so slightly, which only serves to make him moan more. Your chest heaves as you watch him, determined not to let your eyes squeeze shut while he licks and kisses and sucks at your pussy like a man possessed, “Holy shit!” You whimper loudly when he pushes his tongue into you, groaning lowly when he feels your walls clench around it as he presses his nose perfectly against your clit. 

“You taste so good,” he gasps, wrapping his hands around your thighs to keep you exactly where he wants. He peers up at you through blond lashes as he feasts on you, sucking eagerly at your clit and savoring the way you shiver and squirm from his motions. 

Unbelievably, you already feel that warm, familiar tug in your belly beginning to grow, making your whole body feel flush and taut. “Just like that, just like that,” you whine urgently, grabbing onto his hair tighter and guiding his mouth exactly where you need it, your eyes finally rolling back and fluttering shut, “Holy fuck, don’t stop!” 

Michael grunts as you tug at his hair, his own hips rutting greedily against your pretty bedding — cock throbbing so hard there’s no doubt he’s leaked through his boxers. He watches you carefully, studying your movements and reactions as best he can while he rhythmically licks at your clit. 

“Oh, shit!” You cry not even a moment later, your whole body seeming to stutter as your muscles finally relax. You mewl as your high finally washes over you, savoring the way Michael groans into your cunt as he feels it contracting on his tongue. Your eyes stay squeezed shut as shivers roll up and down your spine, shuddered cries leaving your lips. 

Just as his touches begin to border on overstimulation, you have enough wherewithal to push him away, and he releases your center with a lewd little pop. 

“Was that good?” He asks through a breathless laugh, swallowing as he looks up at you, evidence of your arousal still shining on his lips and chin. 

“Good?” You huff, eyebrows raised as you gaze down at him, “You’re sure you’ve never done that before?” You question in disbelief, chest still heaving. 

He smiles shyly, already pink cheeks seeming to flush deeper from your praise as he chuckles. You cup his cheeks when he leans over you again, whimpering as you taste yourself on his tongue. 

“You’re unbelievable.” You sign as he kisses down your neck again, making him chuckle against your skin. 

“Just observant,” he grunts, shuddering when you wrap your legs around his trim waist. You gasp as his length brushes over your still sensitive pussy, impossibly hot and hard even through the thin fabric of his boxers. His fragmented sigh makes you smile and you tug his head up, blushing as you look up at him. 

“You ready, honey?” You breathe, giggling when he nods his head again eagerly, his hips stuttering instinctually against your center. “Here, let me…” You trail off, the two of you separating for a moment as you lean over and pull open the top drawer of your desk, pulling out a pack of condoms and tearing one off before laying back down. 

You watch enraptured as he kneels between your legs again, pulling down his boxers finally. “Holy…” you gasp when his cock finally bobs free, twitching up to rut against his lower stomach; he’s long and thick, curving a little as veins run up the underside, leading to a flushed, leaking head. He smiles shyly again at your attention as he shuffles awkwardly out of his trousers and underwear, kicking them off and onto the floor.

You hand him the condom and watch as he rolls it on, giving him a little reassuring smile as he does. Once it’s securely in place, you pull him back to you, eagerly kissing him once more and wrapping your legs securely around his waist. Both of you moan in unison when his length glides through your folds, the head catching perfectly on your clit. 

He pulls away with a little gasp, hovering over you as he glances down at your hips. “S-So, I just…” He trails off, watching as you reach down with one hand, grunting softly when you wrap your hand around his cock. 

Carefully, you position him at your entrance and angle your hips a little. “Go on, honey,” you encourage with a soft smile, running your other hand over his chest. 

Nodding once, he presses forward and swears he sees God. “F-Fucking hell,” he groans, loudly sighing your name as he carefully guides himself into you, absolutely in awe at the way your hot cunt grips him. His eyes squeeze shut, his hips resting firmly against yours as his chest heaves, breaths coming in short, sharp pants. 

You aren’t fairing much better, head spinning at the way he splits you open, pressing incessantly at each and every sensitive spot within you. You pant against his neck as he stills, pressed deeply within you. 

“D-Do… fuck, do I just…?” Michael stutters, giving half-hearted little thrusts to test the waters. 

“Yes!” You answer instantly, anxiously nodding up at him as your hips wiggle against the bedsheets, making him swear and shudder above you, “Just move, honey, do what feels good.” 

He groans again and gives a little nod before experimentally moving his hips again, pulling out more this time before pushing back in. “Shit,” he breathes above you, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he grunts with each roll of his hips. 

You pant underneath him, spurring him on by pressing your feet against his backside, urging him to move faster and faster as the frilly lace from your socks tickles his pale skin. “You’re doing so, so good, oh, my God,” you breathe, your voice high-pitched and whimpery as you tangle your fingers in his hair again, knowing by now that it drives him crazy. 

Above you, Michael’s hips slowly but surely begin to stutter, his thrusts starting to peter out as his breathing picks up. “I’m —!”

“Wait!” You blurt suddenly, smiling wickedly as he comes to a screeching halt, pushing himself up enough to stare down at you with wild eyes, “I have an idea…” You tease with a little giggle. 

“W-What?” 

“You have a phone, yeah?” 

“…Yeah?”

“One that can, like, take video?” 

“Yes?” 

“Grab it,” you laugh, pushing him off of you with a laugh. He rolls his eyes with a smirk but does as you ask, clumsily pulling himself from your heat before stumbling over to where his khakis had landed. He shuffles about for a second before pulling a silver phone from the pocket of his trousers. 

“Now what?” He asks curiously, positioning himself back between your thighs, cock twitching meanly. 

“Film me.” 

“What?!” He gapes at you, brows creased. 

“Film me, honey,” you giggle, biting your lip conspiratorially, “For your little task, you need proof, yeah?” 

“Well, yeah, b-but I can just take your panties or something, I don’t —“

“Or you could bring back something better…” You smirk, shrugging your shoulders playfully, “We don’t have to but… it could be kinda hot?” 

He pauses for a moment, eyes flicking between you, your pussy, and the phone in his hand before he nods once, curtly. “We… we can try it.” 

“Yeah? You wanna?” 

“Yeah,” he quips, catching you by surprise as a mean little smirk spreads over his lips, “Wanna see the look on Catton’s face when he sees you creaming on my cock.” 

Your eyes widen and you huff out a shocked laugh, a zing of electricity lighting behind your eyes. “You’re insane,” you say softly, an endeared smile on your lips. 

He snickers, his whole demeanor seeming to change before your eyes as he transforms from this shy, stuttering boy into an astonishingly cocky man. “You like it, love,” he teases, grabbing his dick and positioning himself at your entrance yet again. 

“Wait!” You giggle again, blushing as he groans. 

“You don’t want to anymore?” 

“No, no, not that,” you assure him, affectionately running your hand down one of his shockingly muscular arms, “You can film me… on one condition.” 

“‘N what would that be?” 

“Take me on a date.” You breathe, suddenly shy. You know he’ll agree to it, but even still, your heart pumps wildly in your chest. 

He stares at you for a second, blinking dumbly as he processes your request. “You want me to take you on a date?” He asks, flushing so deeply that the soft pink hue cascades all the way down to his chest. 

Giggling, you nod your head, giving his forearm a reassuring squeeze. “You need to start giving yourself more credit, honey.” 

He sighs at that, a little astounded huff, before he’s suddenly grabbing at your calves and pushing your legs up toward your shoulders, all but bending you in half, anxious to get his cock back into you. You gasp at the movement, and chuckle at his eagerness, a sound that morphs into a whiny moan when he slides back home. 

“Christ,” he grunts, shoulders heaving as he gets used to the way you feel around him once more, “Y-You feel so good, love, fucking perfect.” 

“You’re so big,” you whine, nodding as you look at him like he hung the stars in the sky, “You’re so good, Michael, you have no idea.” 

He groans above you, hands shaking as he grabs for his phone, flipping it open and quickly opening the camera as his hips rut into you, making the springs of your bed creak softly. 

As soon as Michael gives you a little nod to let you know he’s filming, you truly put on a show — or well, you at least stop trying to quiet yourself down and be conscientious of the people in the rooms next to you. The way he has your legs bent back makes him feel somehow bigger and causes his cock to hit that sensitive spot within you with pinpoint accuracy every time he thrusts in, making you clench around him and moan loudly each time he moves his hips against you. 

You watch as he angles the camera down a bit, no doubt pointing it at the spot the two of you are joined together, letting the camera record his cock sliding in and out of you. When he moves it back up, however, to get your face as evidence, you plaster on the cheekiest grin you can muster. 

“H-Hi boys,” you tease breathlessly, smirking as you lean up on one elbow. You wave with your other hand before blowing a kiss to the camera, which makes Michael cockily laugh.

“Fuck, I gotta…” he mutters after a few more seconds, carelessly dropping his phone down on the bed before roughly grabbing at your thighs with a bruising grip, one that makes you mewl and arch your back toward him. The two of you moan and whimper in unison as he begins thrusting wildly, seemingly too worked up to care about anything but cumming. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You chant over and over, head spinning as he bullies your sweet spot. 

“That’s it, love,” Michael murmurs, his voice gruff and low as he stares down at you, strands of his hair sticking to his forehead; he looks wilder than you’ve ever seen him, the thought only serving to push you closer and closer to the edge. “S-Shit, that’s it. Fucking come for me, cream on my cock; please, please, please,” he murmurs, leaning down to press desperate kisses against your neck and collarbones. 

The new position causes his pubic bone to rub deliciously over your clit, making you seize beneath him with a loud whine. Your toes curl, heels still pressing into the small of his back. “M-Michael, holy fuck!” You practically squeal as your high finally washes over you once more, stars dancing behind your eyelids as you go lax and pliant underneath him. 

The feel of your walls pulsing around his cock has Michael reeling, his hips somehow thrusting even faster as he both desperately wants to cum while also never wanting this feeling to end. “C-Cum, honey, cum,” you pant softly, cupping his cheek with one hand and turning his face toward yours. 

That does him in and the rubber band in his belly viciously snaps, making him shudder above you as his thrusts come to a halt, cock twitching wildly inside you as he empties himself into the condom. You watch him in awe, taking in every detail from the way his nose scrunches up as his eyes squeeze close to the way he whispers your name over and over like a prayer. 

The two of you lay in silence for a moment, his breath warm against your neck as he slumps against you trying to catch his breath. 

Eventually, you can’t help it anymore and let out a breathless giggle, which only intensifies when he props himself up on an elbow to peer down at you with a smirk. 

“Something funny?” 

“Just,” you breathe, trying to calm yourself enough to get words out, “Just… wow,” you finally say, giggles petering out as you look up at him, the soft gleam in his eyes makes your heart clench in your chest. 

“Good wow?” He blushes, looking down between the two of you as he pulls himself from your walls with a little hiss. 

“Very, very good wow,” you confirm, grinning as you watch him pull off the condom before he peers up at you with a sheepish grin. “Tie it off, honey,” you instruct, smirking as he does just that, before nodding to the little wastebasket by your desk. 

He gets up with a groan and quickly tosses the condom in the trash before turning back to you, the bashful look on his face making you blush. 

Unable to resist, you grin at him and spread your arms with a giggle, wordlessly inviting him for a cuddle, which he gladly accepts. The bed creaks slightly as he lays back down, relaxing his head on the pillow just beside yours. Again, the two of you stay silent for a moment, content to merely gaze at one another, before he shyly looks away and sighs. 

“I…,” he starts, blue eyes blinking and flitting around your room as he gathers his thoughts, “Thank you,” he finally says, looking back at you with a little half smile. 

Your brows furrow at this as you grin at him. “What’re you thanking me for?” 

“Well, f-for… this,” he says, gesturing vaguely at the two of you before sitting up just slightly and fishing around in the blankets for a second. “And this,” he sighs, holding his phone up before twisting around to set it on the corner of your desk, turning back to you. “I just… I know you didn’t have to, is all, so…” 

You cock your head to the side as you prop yourself up on an elbow, eyes narrowing as you study him closely. “And people have the nerve to say I’m thick,” you joke, lips spreading into a wide grin as you gaze down at him, “I wanted to do all this, Michael. I’m the one that came onto you, remember?” 

“W-Well, yeah, but —“

“No buts!” You laugh, pressing a finger against his lips as you shake your head, “I have eyes too, you know.” 

“What does that mean?” 

“You haven’t been the only one watching someone for months,” you giggle shyly, pressing your forehead against his, “I meant what I said about that date, too.” 

His arms wind around your waist, holding you tight as he processes your words with a dumbstruck smile, blushing under your gaze. “Whatever you say, love,” he concedes finally, pressing his lips against yours sweetly. 

He yawns tiredly when he pulls away from you after a moment, which only makes you yawn as well, and you glance over at the little clock on your dresser. “Christ,” you gasp, turning back to him, “I didn’t realize it’s already almost four… you can crash here, if you want?” 

He considers it for a moment, knowing he has to be back in that stupid little basement by noon and making a mental map of where exactly your dormitory is in relation to the Merton College Chapel. “I… I can stay, yeah,” he finally nods after a moment. 

“You’re sure?” 

“Love, I’m not sure my legs work well enough yet to walk out of here anyway.” 

Michael

Groaning, Michael slowly blinks his eyes open, rubbing them softly as he sits up in bed with a yawn. Blindly reaching over for his glasses, he’s confused when he doesn’t feel them in their usual spot and finally opens his eyes properly. 

He stares, confused for a moment as to how exactly he somehow got transported into what appears to be Barbie’s damn dream house, before the events of last night come flooding back to him. 

“Holy shit,” he breathes when he turns his head and sees your still-sleeping form beneath your flowery sheets, your hair tousled wildly on the pillow as your shoulders rise and fall evenly still with each breath. Looking around, he finally spots his glasses and puts them on before reaching for his phone, and cursing again when he sees the time. 

11:47 AM. 

He practically falls out of your bed as he tries to extricate himself from the sheets, and he hears you wake with a start behind him as he grabs wildly at his clothes on the floor. 

“Michael?” You ask questioningly, your voice still hoarse from sleep as you, frankly fucking adorably, rub at your eyes before fixing him with a curious look. 

“Gotta, shit, gotta run,” he explains quickly, cursing as he nearly loses his balance trying to tug his trousers on, “Need to be at Merton Chapel in, like, Christ, ten minutes!” 

“Ohh,” you giggle softly, watching with amusement as he finishes getting dressed, hair and clothes so disheveled that he’s sure he looks like the very definition of the walk of shame. 

Just as he’s tugging his shoes on and making a mad dash for the door, you stop him. “Here,” you smirk, holding out the same lacy pair of pink panties you wore last night, “For proof,” you explain, nodding to the phone in his hand, “Along with that. Should be more than enough,” you giggle proudly. 

He smiled sheepishly as he pockets your underwear. “T-Thanks,” he nods, turning to leave before you stop him once more. 

He can’t help but blush when you lean in and press and quick kiss to his lips, your cherry chapstick rubbing off on him some. Pulling away, you playfully smack his chest with a little grin. “Go get ‘em, honey.” 

Nodding, he smiles again before finally pulling your door open and bounding down the hallway. “I’ll text you, love!” He calls, peering back just before he rounds a corner, “About that date!” 

It’s 11:58 on the dot when he flings the basement door open, only to be pulled over to the same stupid dank basement wall, his back hitting it once more with a dull thud. 

Glancing around, he sees the ski-masked boys again, all fifteen of them, standing in a row with the head boy slightly out of line. To his left stands one of the other initiates, clutching a black tube of some sort. 

The basement stays silent for a moment before one of the masked boy’s watch alarms goes off just as the bells in the tower begin to chime. 

Once, twice, all the way up to twelve. Noon.

Right on cue, the head boy steps forward even more and looks between Michael and the other initiate. “Your friend couldn’t be bothered to show his face, then?” He asks, dark eyes peering at the boy next to Michael. 

He scoffs and shakes his head, glaring at the head boy. “He’s still at the bank!” He snaps, “All the way in bloody Switzerland,” he kicks at the dirty stone floor as he explains, “Dickhead,” he finally mutters lowly under his breath. 

“Shame,” the head boy quips, clasping his hands in front of his waist, “Some men are simply not cut out for Bullingdon.” 

The boys in the row behind him nod knowingly, each making some little noise of affirmation until the head boy quickly stops them, holding a fist up by his head, bringing it back down to his side when they shut up. 

“So, initiates, what’ve you got?” 

The boy next to Michael steps forward first and hands the black tube to the head boy with a sigh. “There,” he says, gesturing to it, “There’s your bloody map. My mum could get sacked for that.” 

The head boy pops open one end of the tube, a document sleeve Michael now realizes, and gingerly extracts a rolled up piece of parchment from it, unrolling it just enough to confirm it's what they asked for. 

“Well done, initiate,” he nods, seemingly impressed as he flashes a smile at the boy, white teeth gleaming creepily through the slit in his ski mask. Carefully, he rolls the document up again before sliding it back in the tube, “Your commitment to Bullingdon will take you far. Welcome to the fray.” 

The boy stands still for a moment, eyeing the document tube with an almost regretful expression before curtly nodding and taking his place back against the wall. 

“And then there was one,” the head boy murmurs, dark faze fixed on Michael, “I seem to remember we gave you quite the… interesting task indeed, initiate. How did you manage?” 

Smiling damn near arrogantly, Michael all but skips up the head boy and proudly pulls your panties from his back pocket, letting them dangle from his index finger. “See for yourself.” 

The head boy grabs them by the edge and studies them for a moment, turning back to the row of boys behind him with a questioning glance. The boy Michael knows already to be that cunt, Oliver Quick, glances between him, the panties, and Michael, before cutting a sideways glance to a tall boy standing next to him. 

“These could be anyone’s,” the head boy says, turning back to Michael as he shakes his head, “You could’ve nicked them from your sister or something, we’ll need more than this, initiate.”

“Don’t even have a sister,” Michael quips, shrugging his shoulders with a little frown. 

“Okay, like, your cousin or something then –”

“Don’t have a female cousin,” he says with a shake of his head, “All boys.”

“The point still stands!” The head boy finally snaps, making Michael bite the inside of his cheek to hide a little laugh, though the corner of his lips still quirks up in a smirk, “You haven’t got any proof, do you? Is that why you’re stalling?”

Huffing a little laugh, Michael finally lets himself smirk meanly and steps closer to the head boy as he pulls his phone from his pocket, flips it open, and navigates to his video gallery. “Is this enough proof?” He teases, pressing play on the most recent video. 

The picture is small and grainy but there’s no doubt as to what’s happening as the sound of your pretty whimpers and moans echoes around the brick basement, along with the wet smack of Michael’s cock driving into you again and again. 

The head boy stares at the screen still as curiosity gets to a few of the boys in the row behind him and they all come crowd around Michael’s phone, eyes widening behind their ski masks and mouths falling open. 

The tallest one, the one Oliver keeps glancing at, lets out a long sigh as he peers down at the small screen and brings a hand up to his head as if he were going to run it through his hair before remembering the mask he has on. With him this close, Michael finally notices the little silver barbell stuck through his eyebrow and shivers as his lips curl up into a sadistic Cheshire cat smile, a tidal wave of savage pride crashing through his system. 

Finally, fucking finally, I get something he wants, he thinks as your breathy moans continue to pour from the speaker of his phone, tinny and muffled in some spots where he’d accidentally covered the microphone, but beautiful, beautiful and because of him.

After a moment, the video ends, the tiny phone screen reverting back to it’s little thumbnail as the head boy peers up at Michael, the rest of the club members taking their places back in line, though he can’t help but notice that Felix’s broad shoulders are slumped now and Oliver stands ever closer to him, like some kind of fucked up bodyguard. 

“I’ll be damned, initiate,” the head boy sighs with a shake of his head, “I really didn’t think you had it in you.”

He watches as Michael merely nods and pockets his phone again, holding it tightly in his fist even still. After a second, he smiles widely and claps a hand on his shoulder, shaking him slightly.

“Welcome to Bullingdon.”

Some time later, Michael finally exits the basement, a few of the club members, sans ski masks now, nodding goodbye to him as they disperse across campus, meeting adjourned. 

He wasn’t really sure what he’d been expecting from the initial meeting but it was mostly them prattling on about where exactly they had all their grubby little fingers, poked in seemingly every facet of society from Parliament to local newspapers. 

Braggy cunts, Michael thinks as he ambles outside, glancing up at the sky as he steps into the Mob Quad, surrounded by stony old buildings. 

Smiling to himself, he pulls out his phone and quickly finds your number in his contacts list, blushing when he sees you’ve taken the liberty of adding some girly heart emoticon next to it. He hardly has time to press it against his ear before you answer.

“Well?” You demand with that now familiar giggle, some unfamiliar pop song playing in the background.

“I’m in,” he confirms, nodding to himself as he slowly walks in the direction of his dormitory, “Thanks to you.” He smiles like an idiot when you laugh.

“Don’t sell yourself short, honey,” you tease, he can picture your bright, glossy smile in his head, “You earned that spot.”

Michael merely shakes his head with a happy little sigh. “So,” he starts, clearing his throat and pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “About that date… I was thinking the King’s Arms? Tonight at six, if that works?”

“Oooh, tonight at six,” you repeat teasingly, an image flashing in his mind of you twirling your hair around a perfectly manicured finger, “Someone’s quite eager, hm?”

“Can you blame me?”

“Hmm, I suppose not,” you giggle, pausing for a second, “It’s a date then.”

“Fantastic,” Michael sighs, trying with every fiber of his being to sound casual and cool about the whole thing, even as his heart threatens to beat out of his chest. 

“See you tonight, Mr. Bullingdon,” you tease, making a little kissy sound into the phone before hanging up. 

Michael pauses for a moment, standing to the side on the pavement as he nods to himself. If it weren’t so fucking cheesy, he’d raise his fist in the air, victorious, à la Judd Nelson at the end of The Breakfast Club. 

Instead, he flips his phone back open and navigates back to your video. Sighing, he stares at the little thumbnail for a second before deleting it, pocketing his phone once more, and continuing back to his dormitory. 

He has the real thing now.

taggled lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @wickedfrsgrl @echos-muses @imawhorecrux @avidreader73 @marvelescape @rae-11 @ms-morningstarr @chaotic-fangirl-blog @grsveeth0m @twglitching @hb8301 @delulumhaggy @burntliquorlips @fan-goddess @cl-0-vr @kittendoll05 @beautbuck @eponaartemisa @trshngyn @brettlovessuckingcocks @alerisc @moonriseoverkyoto @wolfdressedinlace @do-double-g @kennafild

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

[chrollogy]

Picture it: you have a favorite meal and Atsumu tried to make it but it turned out terrible!!! He couldn’t serve ya that! What is he, a chump? No! He’s gonna beg his twin to teach him how to make it well, and Osamu’d betta do a good job o’ doing it!!! He was NOT gonna serve his babe a sub-par meal!! Even if it meant helping his brother with take out orders…

nonnie omg u don’t know how happy i was reading this ask because its so true !! tsumu isn’t one to settle for less esp when it came to his baby >:(!!! i wrote a lil drabble LMAOOO

── miya atsumu was determined but as time passed, each monotonous second passing with every tick of the clock, determination embarrassingly dissipated before one could even spell it. earlier today, atsumu had a rather amazing idea of cooking up your favourite meal just because.

thing is, he wasn’t as gifted as his twin brother when it came to skills in the kitchen. despite following along a youtube tutorial of how to make your favourite meal, each of atsumu’s calculated move resulted in nothing but hopelessness, and it did a damn good number on his ego. the meal didn’t taste like how it was supposed to be and atsumu feared there’s only one person who could help him in the field.

miya osamu.

the amount of tease thrown his way—from his brother—was enough to make him quit, and admit defeat but he was doing this for you.

“samu, are ya sure this is how it’s done?! this better be right!” “shut up, ya scrub! don’t question me!”

it was a slow day in onigiri miya—a good opportunity for atsumu to finally learn from his twin about the basics of cooking, and hopefully he can apply those to make your favourite meal. oh, atsumu can already imagine the pleasant look on your face once he’s perfected it!

osamu looked at the hopeless creation pitifully nestled in his brother’s hands, heart weighing heavy at the butchered sight in front of him. illegal. it should be absolutely illegal for atsumu to even step foot in his kitchen—if he wasn’t related to the blonde by blood, he was sure he would’ve called the cops with that onigiri. if you could even call it that.

“what makes ya think customers will want ta eat that, tsumu?” he sighed. atsumu had rice stuck all over his hand, the nori seaweed crumbling beneath his heavy hands, and not to mention the sad, sad attempt of moulding it into a little triangle.

“shut yer trap! i’m trying my best!”

oh, he was determined. atsumu secretly spent his free time perfecting his skills, and the tips osamu gave him: ‘remember it’s a pinch of salt. ya know what a pinch of salt is, right? ya gotta pay attention or it’ll be too salty.’ ‘taste as ya go. remember that so ya know what to add if its bland, or else you’ll end up with a disaster.��

his hard work finally payed off when your eyes sparkled with hunger, and amusement. before you, a perfectly plated meal—your favourite meal—sat on the table of your shared apartment. everything looked perfect, nothing was burnt nor undercooked, and it looked exactly how it was supposed to look.

“oh, ‘tsumu it looks so lovely! i can’t believe you actually took time to make this all for me.” you gasped. he may or may not have asked osamu how to properly plate it via facetime.

atsumu gently ushered you to your seat, both hands on your shoulders, an excited smile plastered on his handsome face. he jogged around the kitchen to grab your plate, and utensils before pouring water on your glass, and sitting across you.

“‘ts nothin’ just wanted ta do somethin’ nice for ya.” he sheepishly rubbed the back of his head, watching as you grabbed your spoon to taste the food.

atsumu’s head thumped against his chest as you opened your mouth to take a bite. it was going good so far, a small smile on your face. oh, thank goodness it was a success—

your smile faltered. just a little but atsumu caught onto it. this can’t be a good sign.

“baby?” “y-yeah?”

“i think you put too much salt.” you coughed, hastily standing up to go to the sink. atsumu’s eyes widened at the information, swiftly trailing behind you.

shit. he had forgotten about the two of the many things osamu taught him—knowing what a pinch of salt was, and tasting as you go.

—

tsumu is still in the progress of making himself comfortable in the kitchen !! he’s getting there </3

[possibilistfanfiction]

surgeons au word prompt - "breathless"

[early days, also if u like climbing this is a bonus fun one lol]

//

you’re already kind of gassed when beatrice gets to the gym, mostly hanging out on the mat with marco and watching jehan slip from a hold on a new v6 over and over again. 

the first time you met beatrice, a few years ago, when she had just moved and was new to the gym, she had climbed a few lower grades and stretched and then quietly and calmly puzzled her way through a hard v7 that you’d been trying to send for days. she’s, like, totally sick and also really reserved, so it’s extra cool when she sits with you and asks about how your landscaping job is going or how your cat is enjoying the new perch you’d gotten, always remembering the most important parts of all the stupid shit you tell her. 

you — and the rest of the guys, too — have also been trying to set her up for, like, two years now. in your opinion, you’d had the best shot with lucia, who you’d flirted with at the coffee shop next door until she laughed kindly and told you she wasn’t interested in men. which, totally cool, because obviously, no offense to jehan, but his sister kind of sucks, so of course that was going to be a bust with someone as cool as beatrice. 

disappointingly, though, she and lucia had decided to just be friends, a huge bummer because beatrice would’ve had a hot girlfriend and danny would’ve owed you twenty bucks, but it’s cool. she climbs on her days off from work — it’s, like, fucking wild to actually know a surgeon — and blows you all out of the water with what seems like just a moderate amount of effort. 

today, though — in addition to the free barbecue your boss had bought for lunch — fucking rocks, because someone very pretty walks in, holding hands with beatrice and smiling as they talk animatedly, using a cane with most steps but gesturing with it when something in their conversation is extra exciting, which makes beatrice smile a smile you’ve definitely never seen before. she had very briefly mentioned a few weeks ago that she had gone on a first date, blushing profusely when you had gotten excited and then flying up a few routes in quick succession, which had made you laugh. you hadn’t gotten anything else out of her, but you’re not offended because she mostly just listens and climbs, always willing to talk you through a route that you’re struggling with that she’s sent before. 

‘hey beatrice,’ you greet, maybe too eagerly, when she stops by the cubbies to put her clogs and jacket away. 

she smiles though — not the same one as earlier, but definitely kind still. ‘hey sam.’ she turns to the person next to her, who is grinning, bouncing on their toes a little even. ’ava, this is sam, one of my friends here. sam, this is ava.’

there’s no more explanation, and you’re momentarily a little worried that ava’s feelings might get hurt, but their happy expression doesn’t change a bit, and they shake your offered hand enthusiastically.

‘i’ve been asking bea for weeks if i could come watch her climb.’

beatrice, for her part, doesn’t change course from where she’s slipping on her climbing shoes, situating a beanie — typical in general for her, but not this pale blue she has on right now — after she’d taken her hoodie off. her t-shirt is also new, worn and faded from a school you know she definitely didn’t go to, and it’s kind of, like, the best day ever. your mom always reminds you that, sometimes, you come on a little too strong when you’re excited, so you take a deep breath and remind yourself to be totally normal.

‘bea’s amazing,’ you say, normal but honest too. 

ava looks toward beatrice fondly. ‘she told me that she was competent, which, in beatrice translation, means totally fucking awesome.’

you laugh.

‘and,’ ava adds, following when beatrice nods once and then chalks her hands, keeping it all inside her bag so neatly — enviable, always — and then stands, silently, in front of a v3, ‘i imagine it’s, like, really hot.’

thankfully, beatrice doesn’t turn around, so she misses your absolute beaming smile at ava. theoretically you guess they could be friends, but you’ve never seen beatrice voluntarily touch another person in two years, so you think, for someone to get to hold beatrice’s hand, to make her happy like that, probably means they’re something. 

beatrice glides through the route, smooth and patient, just warming up, and ava sits down on the edge of the mat next to you and sighs.’ i love being right.’

you laugh. ‘that’s just a warm up for her too.’ sure enough, beatrice stretches a bit and then climbs up and down two v1s in quick and easy succession. she’s calm and fast; even if you can sometimes send routes she’s, honestly, just a little too short for, you’re fairly certain you never make things look effortless. 

‘are you gonna try climbing?’ you ask, because it’s easy and because ava’s only half paying attention to you anyway. jehan and marco start talking to beatrice about the route they’ve been stuck on, and she puts her hands on her hips and looks at it critically, ava watching the whole time.

‘nah,’ he says. ‘i’ve got a lot of hardware in my spine.’ he turns his back to you, and you see a few scars between his shoulder blades, up to the middle of his neck and going down below the hem of his tank too. 

‘dude, gnarly,’ you say, which, like, whoops, maybe, but you’re super relived when ava just laughs.

‘keeps me up and walking most days, but i don’t think i can do that.’ she gestures over to where jehan has gotten stuck, once again, on an admittedly difficult crimp on the overhang. 

‘well, to be fair,’ you say, as jehan walks over to you both in easy defeat, ‘neither can he.’

‘ha ha,’ he says, then smiles and sits down next to ava, offers his hand and introduces himself. ‘you’re here with beatrice?’

‘yeah,’ ava says, softening a little. ‘i’m her — we’re dating? i guess?’

jehan hums, taking his shoes off for a break and sitting back on his hands. ‘well, we’ve tried to set beatrice up with people for years now, and no one has really gotten past a second date, so i’d say you’re doing great.’

ava laughs, delighted. ‘we’ll circle back to all those failed dates later, because that could definitely be mostly your fault.’

‘hey—‘

‘but, i don’t know.’ ava shrugs. ‘i met her at work and things have just felt, like, really good. easy, even if she’s so quiet sometimes. makes my rambling even worse.’

you all laugh. ‘happens to the best of us,’ jehan says.

‘you’re a surgeon too?’

ava nods, a little pride straightening their spine, lifting their shoulders. ‘i’m still just an intern, but, yeah.’

‘that’s so cool,’ you say, and jehan nods in agreement. ‘jehan’s an engineer —‘

‘— very boring —‘

‘— but i barely graduated high school. i can’t imagine eight years after that, jesus christ.’

ava nods. ‘i have a phd, so even more than that.’

‘jesus christ.’

she just laughs. ‘bea was actually my boss, but i charmed her so much she admitted to the chief of surgery she “had feelings for me” and “needed me to switch to another resident’s service” so she could “pursue something.”’ the air quotes give you a moment of pause but then ava gets all soft. ‘which is awesome, because now we can actually date instead of just, like, yearn or whatever.’

‘ah, the yearning,’ marco says, joining you. ‘sounds gay.’

‘it’s about beatrice,’ you say, ’so, yeah, definitely.’

marco introduces themself and gives ava a high five. ‘are you, like, co-yearning now, or do we need to pester beatrice into committing?’

ava’s smile turns smug. ‘oh, she’s committed.’

the three of you whoop happily, which causes beatrice to turn toward all of you with a glare. it’s not intimidating, though, because her eyes are soft when she looks at ava, who shrugs with a smirk.

‘oh, you’re like, beatrice kryptonite, aren’t you?’ marco asks.

‘maybe she’ll finally get dinner with us tonight then,’ you say, excited about the prospect of beatrice actually coming with you to the brewery next door rather than saying next time again and again. ‘if you’re, like, not busy, obviously.’

ava gets a little distracted by beatrice carefully setting her hands on the wall, but he shakes his head. ‘no, we both have tomorrow off. but you owe me a round if i can convince her.’

‘oh, deal. easy.’

ava returns your fist bump but watches, a little breathless, as beatrice gets to the hold that’s been getting all three of you all afternoon. of course — of course — she breezes right through it, getting a foothold that you’d all missed too to send the route.

‘first try,’ jehan whines. ‘not fair, beatrice.’

she laughs from the top of the wall, then climbs halfway down and lands silently on her feet, walks over to you and sits on the edge of the mat.

‘have they been bothering you?’ she asks.

ava shakes her head, delighted. ‘definitely not. i’ve divulged all of your greatest secrets, though.’

beatrice rolls her eyes but she’s clearly happy, happier than you’ve ever seen her, for sure, comfortable and, when she gets up to do one of the hardest routes in the gym, a horrible v10, marco laughs. ’oh, now she’s just showing off,’ they say.

‘yeah,’ you agree when beatrice decides to just dyno the last hold, totally insane, ‘she never climbs like this just for us.’

‘well,’ ava says, ‘i am prettier, no offense.’

you all laugh, and you finally get the v6 with beatrice talking you through it, ava cheering you on. you climb for an hour longer — mostly, you watch beatrice climb and talk to your friends — until she gives up on a v8 and calls it. 

she sits down next to all of you, the kind of tired only climbing makes you, and slips her shoes off. 

‘bea did a six hour valve replacement today,’ ava says, looking at beatrice with overwhelming affection and easily identifiable pride, nothing hidden. ‘so this was extra crazy.’

‘fucking nuts.’ jehan bumps his knuckles with beatrice, who just looks down at her hands, dusting the remaining chalk off, shy all of a sudden, before she stands and pads over to the cubbies to put her hoodie on and gather her things. 

‘she’s, like, our favorite,’ you say. ‘just so you know.’

ava nods, gentle. ‘yeah. she’s my favorite too. it’s good to meet you guys; she loves coming here, even if she won’t tell you.’

you shrug. ‘she shows us everything we get stuck on, so we know.’

beatrice walks back over to get her shoes and, presumably, also ava. 

‘we were just talking about you,’ ava says with a grin, far, far too confident for beatrice to not be wary of. 

‘hmm?’

‘yeah, how you and i are gonna join your friends for dinner next door.’

‘oh, i — uh, well, we have food at my house, and —‘

ava just bats her lashes and puts a hand on beatrice’s hip, runs her thumb under beatrice’s t-shirt for, like, one whole second, before beatrice gives in.

‘fine,’ she says, not sounding overly enthused but she’s relaxed and happy so it’s all a front anyway. and, this time, gentler: ‘fine.’

ava just kisses her cheek and then turns to the three of you and winks.

‘oh, you’re lethal,’ marco says while jehan laughs.

‘one round on me,’ you tell ava.

‘this was a bet?’ beatrice asks, as indignant as she can possibly be holding ava’s hand carefully and still blushing from being pecked on the cheek. 

‘only a bet if there’s a chance for both sides to win,’ ava says, smug as hell, which makes you laugh. ‘but whatever, i want a burger.’

beatrice sighs. ‘well, then, let’s go, i suppose.’

ava ends up getting free rounds of beers for everyone, somehow charming the server, and beatrice just watches quietly, comfortable and pleased.

‘happy for you, dude,’ you say when marco and jehan are showing ava their favorite pinball machine. 

beatrice smiles, genuine. ‘thank you, sam. i’m sorry if i —‘ she shakes her head — ‘i’m glad we get to climb together.’

‘you’re a dope climber,’ you say, ‘and a dope friend. i’m glad too. and ava’s fucking rad.’

beatrice laughs, looks over to where ava is cheering for herself, succeeding at one level of pinball. ‘yes, he is.’

[kakujis]

sweet like cinnamon;

warnings: afab!reader, established relationship, blood kink, dacryphilia, soft!yan baji, pet names(baby, kitten, pretty girl), mentions of stalking and violence.

summary: baji would rather u stay home for the weekend and sinks his teeth in when you don't.♡

wc: 2.8k, not proofread per usual

an: here's my entry for @saecore's dc collab! this was so much fun!!!! honestly... i couldn't bring myself to write a mean!baji cus i think he's actually really really sweet as yan uwu. he's only a lil mean. just a bit. one of these days i'll write out the super mean baji of my dreams but not today!!!

when keisuke baji finally managed to have you in the palm of his hand, he thought that he had it all. finally, after years of trying he could keep you all to himself. but he realized quite quickly that he still wasn’t your very first priority. 

“it’s just a little weekend trip kei, i’ll be back by monday!” you had told him, exasperated. you ignored his grumbling, continuing to pack your things. it was a small two day get together with your friends that you hadn’t seen since you started college. sure, most people spend summer break with their significant other, but the two of you had the rest of the season together. a measly two days couldn’t hurt. that’s what you thought anyway, but your boyfriend kept grumbling disagreements, noting that he had been missing you too. 

through many kisses and sweet words you managed to convince him. “keisuke,” you mumbled against his lips, “i promise we’ll spend the rest of summer together, okay?” 

and he had agreed, head stuck in the heat of the moment as the two of you grinded against each other. he was still agreeing, minutes later, when he was buried to the hilt within you, drowning in the whimpers of his name. even when you two were finished, his softening cock still inside you, he agreed. 

so why was he so fucking angry? don’t fall back into bad habits, keisuke. he thought, pacing around your shared apartment. he was different now, he had you, he didn’t need to follow you around anymore. he was done stalking through alleyways to beat anyone within an inch of their life if they so much as looked at you. you were safe as long as he was around. ah, that’s the problem isn’t it? that he wasn’t going to be around on your little trip. 

it had been exactly 12 hours since you had left that morning. “see you later, baby!” you pressed your lips to his cheek, before you ran off waving. he watched how excited you were, jumping into your friend’s car. something about it made his hand twitch and his heart hurt. maybe he was reaching his limit. 

was it really not enough for him just to be your boyfriend? he knew, deep down, it wasn’t. he wanted to keep you safe within his grasp. did you even think about how dangerous it’d be at night? 

“keii, please, it’s a cabin… it’s safe.” you whined out  the night before, “besides.. i’ll be with my friends!” he shot you a look, irritated and unbelieving, because really that was your best excuse? you quickly  responded, “and i’ll even text you when i get there!” 

you kept your promise, the familiar ding! in his pocket alerting him that you got there safely. he had tried to distract himself earlier today, heading over to chifuyu’s place to hang out for the day. his friend tried to reason with him, you were having fun with your friends. he likened it to when toman would get together, since everyone became so busy with their lives they never had time to meet up. but baji liked toman. he didn’t like your friends that took up your time away from him. maybe it was insecurity, the fact that he couldn’t hurt them the way he hurt others, you’d be sad and he doesn’t want that. but the less you responded to his texts the more antsy he got. 

so antsy that he was driving straight to your location on his bike. it would’ve been a nice night ride, the breeze cool on his face, if  his adrenaline wasn’t going haywire, if the blood in his ears wasn’t pumping wildly with this sickly sticky feeling caught in his chest. 

it was a quiet, cozy sight. cabins set in nice manicured rows with dimly lit porch lights. honestly, maybe he should rent one of these out and take you up here himself. sticking his hands in his pockets, he silently moved across the site til he came across your cabin. now he just had to find you. 

peering through the open back window, making a mental note to scold you later, he saw you. laid there on the bed, flat on your stomach, feet up in the air and giggling as you sent “sorry for the late response,” texts. you were cute, wearing a shirt way too big for you, which was obviously keisuke’s, and pajama shorts. 

alright, you’re safe and settled. there’s no reason for him to stay any longer and yet he’s climbing in through your window. the inherent need to be with you over taking any earlier self doubts. he strides over and covers your mouth before you can scream, your body half turned from the noise of his boots hitting the floor. 

he lets go of you, and you fall limp on the bed as he moves over to lock the door. you stare at your boyfriend as he analyzes your room, checking the door knob, the lock, even crouching down to see if the planks were loose. with your eyes wide and mouth agape, you’re sure that if your jaw could’ve hit the ground it would’ve. 

“keisuke, what the fuck?” you whisper, trying to keep your voice down. he glances at you, confusion etching across his face. 

“whatcha mean kitten? i’m just checking up on you.” he says, climbing back up to sit on your bed. there’s concern lacing through his face, even a small pout since that wasn’t really the reception he wanted. 

“by breaking into my room? you couldn’t have like, called me or something?” you sit up now, legs crossed as you face him. there’s… no way he doesn’t see an issue with this, right? you scan his face, looking for anything, something that would indicate he knew this was… strange. 

but he doesn’t see an issue at all, too focused on trailing your body, the way his shirt just barely covers over your thighs, soft and plush and so inviting. something in his eyes changes, something dark and needy. he rests a hand on your thigh, before leaning closer, nose nuzzling yours. 

it’s annoying how easy you crumble to him, already whimpering as his hand traces delicate circles on your thigh. you try your best to resist, leaning back on your elbows as he inches towards you, but eventually you’re trapped underneath him with your head up against the headboard. 

“just missed you s’all,” he breathes, pressing soft kisses to your jawline. “what about you pretty girl? you miss me?” his hand trails up further, pressing up against your clothed cunt. 

you suck in a breath, “i-it hasn’t even been a day, kei.” you shouldn’t give in, you should ignore him for doing this and yet you’re already slightly grinding into his hand that’s slipped it’s way into your shorts, your clit caught between his fingers. 

“don’t care,” he drawls, moving down to lick a stripe up your neck. he latches on, sucking a bright red hickey onto your skin. you mewl as two thick fingers enter you, massaging your gummy walls. he uses his other hand to push your shirt up, palming at one of your tits.

“off.” he commands, pulling off slightly to give you some room. he watches your shaky hands, continuing to roll his fingers into your dripping cunt, stretching you open, as you pull the fabric off over your head. he taps at your shorts with his other hand, one brow raised when you hesitate and suddenly you’re scramble to take those off as well, struggling with his hand working in and out of you. you bite back a particularly loud moan when you bring your knees up to slip your shorts off, feeling his fingers press in just a little deeper than before. 

there’s something different about his demeanor tonight, something that he just can’t shake. so he finds purchase on your neck again and you gasp as his fangs lightly graze against your skin. there was always a little voice in the back of his head, a sort of urging, especially whenever you two fucked to sink his teeth into your flesh. he’s felt it before, after each fight he’s been in, the scent of blood has always gone straight to his cock, but he’s always wondered just what does your blood taste like. 

he gives in to that voice and bites, his fangs prickling little holes in your skin. he knew it, you taste heavenly, a saccharine liquid enveloping his buds. should’ve done this sooner, he thinks, way sooner. 

“ah!”  you almost scream, biting so hard on your fist you almost draw blood there as well. you push at him with your hands, tears welling up in your eyes. keisuke was rough, you knew this from the dozens of marks he’s left on you before, but he’s never drawn blood. 

he withdraws, face flushed as he laps up the wound one more time. he slips his fingers out of you, tugging off his sweatpants and shirt, his leaky cock already dripping with precum.

“kei,” you sniffle, “that hurt.” with shaky hands you press against the mark, wincing at the sting. but keisuke can’t hear you, too focused on the wanton need of his throbbing cock.

he grabs his shirt, balling it up and bringing it to your mouth. “gotta be quiet baby, i don’t want your friends to hear us,” he growls, auburn eyes burning into you. he’s thinks he’s doing them a favor because if they interrupted he’s not sure how well he’d be able to restrain himself. you do as your told and clamp down, tears already starting to stain his cotton shirt. he’s right, you’re not sure how well you’d be able to explain your boyfriend sneaking into your get together. 

he wipes one tear away with his thumb gently before he’s settling himself in between your legs, his tip coated in precum as he slides between your folds. he groans lowly when he notices a trickle of crimson running down your throat and he realizes he can still taste you on his lips. you already look so pretty, flushed and crying all for him. 

he hooks one leg up over his shoulder as he sinks down into your pussy. you moan as he pushes deeper, inch by inch into your twitching walls. he bites down hard on your shoulder blade as he bottoms out, coaxing sweet drops of blood into his mouth. it’s strange, the mix of pleasure and pain makes your head feel dizzy. 

keisuke tries his best to start slow, he doesn’t wanna hurt you anymore than he is now, but fuck do you feel good. he swears you taste like honey as he suckles harder, his cock bullying your cunt with each thrust of his hips. you claw at his back, nails digging and scratching pretty red lines along his skin. the sting of his bite starts feeling oddly good, so much so that you’re arching your body up closer to his touch. 

god, you hope your friends are asleep because even with your mouth stuffed you’re fucking loud. his flushed and leaking tip kisses your sweet spot with each thrust, as he finds new places to mark again and again. it drives him insane, coppery ichor flooding his tongue while it drips down your body staining the sheets below. he’s always wanted to ruin you for anyone else, mold your cunt to his cock, and with the way that you’re clenching and crying he’s probably doing just that. it sends shivers down his spine that you’re so fragile, malleable even. 

he shifts up to lick at your tears, salty clear liquid muddying with the cherry from his mouth as he peppers kisses on your cheek. “taste so fuckin’ good, you still with me baby?” he grunts, each slam of his hips pulling out a whiny moan from you. you whimper out an “mhm” with a slight nod of your head, glassy, unfocused eyes meeting his. he pulls his shirt out, a small bit of drool falling from your lips, wanting to hear your little hiccups and gasps. 

“so fuckin’ pretty when you cry,” he grins, lips smeared red, nails digging into your thigh as he pushes it down further, his cock reaching deeper than before. “so fuckin’ cute takin’ my cock, huh?” his praise runs straight through your head, and he knows, feeling the slight twitch of your pussy.

“fuck, fuck, fuck!” you sob, each thrust of his hips has your eyes rolling back. “feels s-so good, kei, i wanna cum..” you look at him through fluttery, tear-coated lashes, puffy lips babbling and gasping. he leans in, thrusting his tongue against yours, at best a shoddy attempt to quiet you, and you can taste yourself on his tongue. you’re not sure how to feel about it, not that you can really think too hard about it, caught up on the fullness of his cock. 

keisuke’s too sweet and too in love to not give you what you want, his fingers slowly rubbing sticky circles on your clit. it’s just barely not enough, but the position he’s keeping you leaves you unable to grind back against him. he’ll get you there, but there’s just one thing he wants to hear as you unfold.

“you belong to me, right?” he asks with a small tilt of his head, scarlet tinted fangs flashing as he smiles, seeing you nod frantically. “then say it, kitten.” 

“i-i belong to you, keisuke,” you answer, breathless and needy, “to you and only you.” 

“that’s right,” he hums, picking up the pace of not just his fingers, but his hips, each slap of skin getting you to mewl even louder, “all fuckin’ mine.” 

“‘m cumming, kei, i’m-“  you slur, eyes rolling back one final time as you cream on his cock, entire body shaking. “fuck,” you whimper out and he follows not too long after with a snarl, hips stuttering with sticky, white cum painting your walls as your cunt tries to milk every drop. 

his head drops as he pants, hips finally still. you giggle when his pretty dark locks tickle your face. “keisuke, my leg!” you groan due to the burn of your hip. “why do you always gotta stretch me so far?” you pout, pushing and kicking your boyfriend with your good leg off and out of you. 

he backs off with a fake yelp, smile beaming with pearly white fangs as he brings his hands up in a fake apology. he moves to get dressed as you rub your hip, slowly bringing it back down into a resting position. you wipe off the rest  of your tears, shifting a bit, trying to find your discarded shorts and underwear when you hear a familiar zip. you look over to see keisuke shoving your other clothes back into your weekender bag, before he lugs it over his shoulder and throws it out through the window. 

“keisuke, what the fuck?” you hiss for the second time that night. he ignores you this time, walking over, clothes in hand to help you dress. his mother always taught him to help a lady out when she needed it. “are you just gonna ignore me?” 

he does, instead helping you shimmy your shorts back on, a pleased hum when your shirt falls back over your body. while it covers the marks he left on your shoulders and chest, he can still see the ones left on your neck. good, he thinks, you look the best marked up and all his anyway. he rubs his thumb over your pretty lips which you kiss as you look up with pretty, hazy eyes, making him fight the urge to take you again. 

he grabs your hands, slowly pulling you up on your feet. your legs feel a little like jelly and the ache from his marks is starting to kick in so you wobble into him, draping your arms over his shoulders. 

“alright, let’s go.” 

“go where?” you ask, waiting for any type of answer, as you lean against him. 

he picks you up, “home, dummy. you’ve been with your friends for too long.”  he nuzzles his nose into your cheek as he saunters towards the window. “besides,” he breathes, pressing his tongue against one of your marks. “i wasn’t done playing with you yet.” 

you shiver, face heating up at the implication. you spare a glance at the bed, well, it doesn’t look like a murder scene, but there’s definitely smeared blood on there. your cunt twitches, full, but not nearly enough, at the thought of him drawing blood again and maybe you don’t mind ditching your trip. you can hear your phone blowing up in baji’s pocket, but you ignore it, you can answer them in the morning. 

[jahayla-parker]

heelllooo, could u write something with Conrad x tall! readeer? like some angst to fluff. maybe her being insecure or something, and her distancing herself from him. oh and they are together

Heightened Insecurities : Conrad Fisher x Reader

Description: 10.8k (plus texts) Reader is Conrad's girlfriend but begins to distance herself because she is insecure about her height. Hurt-Comfort / Angst-> Fluff

Warnings: some angst, discussion of insecurities, some bullying/rude comments, crying, self-doubt, minor cursing, brief mention of cancer (his mother's)- no mention of the outcome on this within this fic

Notes: I may have gotten a bit carried away with this one haha. I tried to write it as a neutrally-casted reader as much as possible; apart from being a tall female as required by the prompt, but the rest should be inclusive (for self-insert purposes) to all demographics [if not please advise me on what to change]!

“So, the party is at seven tonight, but I was thinking-“ Conrad began as he stepped around the corner at the end of the hallway.

He froze mid-stride when his eyes landed on the empty tan couch and saw his girlfriend wasn’t in the room.

“Y/n?” Con questioned, scanning the beach house for where she might have gone.

“Hey Con!” Jeremiah greets, casually strolling past his older brother.

“Jere, wait!” Conrad requests urgently, spinning his body around in order to face Jeremiah, “where is y/n?”

Jeremiah shrugs halfheartedly, “I thought she was with you”.

Conrad sighs, his hand massaging the back of his tense neck as he repays his brother’s answer with a stiff nod, “okay, thanks”.

“You alright man?” Jere asked, despite knowing better than to expect a clear answer from his emotionally reserved brother.

Disappointment clouded Conrad’s face as he confessed, “she’s never late, I… I think she’s mad at me”.

Jeremiah tried his best not to laugh as he wasn’t wanting Conrad to shut down and not talk to him.

But seeing his older brother this way over a girl was an unusual experience.

“Why do you say that? So, she’s a few minutes late,” Jeremiah shrugged again, hoping to calm his brothers’ nerves.

“It’s like you said, she always meets us in the living room at two. It’s only” the younger Fisher boy looked at his watch, “2:10 now, so maybe she needed to stop somewhere”.

Jeremiah said it even though he knew it was unlikely.

Y/n and Conrad were the same in that way.

They were always where they said they’d be, at the time they said they’d be there.

Any deviation from that plan would always have been accounted for and the other one informed of it prior to the fact.

Conrad’s eyes scrutinized his brother to see if he was actually believing his own argument.

“Alright, I see your point. She hasn’t texted you?” Jeremiah admitted, a small frown tugging on the corners of his lips.

Conrad quickly shoved his hand into his pocket, not having thought of checking it earlier as this hadn’t happened before.

The hopeful features that had appeared on Conrad’s face at Jeremiah’s suggestion to check his texts dissolved within seconds.

“Nothing” Conrad muttered lowly.

His younger brother grimaced with widened eyes, “maybe she’s sick?”

Conrad’s head shook as he pursed his lips, “she was okay yesterday, and she would’ve texted me if that was the case. I need to go see what’s going on.”

“Don’t flip out though, she’s probably not mad at you. Unless you did something, did you do something?” Jeremiah teased, being sure to make his voice clearly playful and his features show he was trying to break the tension.

“I don’t think so” Conrad concluded, having already racked his brain for a possible fault of his within the last few days.

Jeremiah bopped his head slowly and opened his mouth to offer more advice.

But, Conrad spoke before his brother could, “I gotta go find her, see you tonight”.

Conrad sighed as he paced back and forth outside y/N’s front door; both in frustration and worry over her not answering the door.

The lights were off in most of her house apart from the window that he knew connected to her bedroom.

The driveway was empty other than her car.

It all suggested she was home alone but choosing not to answer the door when he knocked.

His fingers reluctantly reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

Conrad was already feeling hopeless about getting a response via text from her since she hadn’t returned his calls nor did she answer the door.

Nonetheless, he had to try, so he let his fingers slide across his screen until he had composed a text message to send to his girlfriend.

TEXTS

Conrad dragged a hand drown his face as he returned his phone to his back pocket.

He knew he likely looked like a kicked puppy as he walked back to his car; his head hung and feet scuffing the ground.

As he buckled himself in, he took one last glance at Y/N’s house with a loud sigh.

“You should come tonight Con! Maybe, get your mind off all this” Jeremiah advised, walking into Conrad’s room.

“You forgot to knock” Conrad criticized without looking up at his brother’s entrance.

Jeremiah stepped back slightly, knocking the inside of Conrad’s door playfully, “now, are you coming?”

Conrad furrowed his brows and shot his brother an irritated look.

He then shook his head before staring back down at his phone as it rested in his lap.

“Dude, come on, you can’t sit here all night waiting for her to text or call” Jeremiah pointed out with a dramatic huff.

“I have to figure this out. I want to fix it…” Conrad confessed.

Jeremiah saw the determination and pain in his brother’s body language and frowned.

“And you don’t know what it is that you did?” Jeremiah investigated cautiously.

Conrad merely shook his head again and answered with a soft “no”.

~

Conrad's eyes shifted away from the ocean and to his right as he heard faint footsteps hitting the sand.

“Hi” Conrad whispered, his voice faint out of shock as he saw his girlfriend walking to him.

Y/n offered him a petite smile and waved as she came closer to him, “Hi”.

Looking up at her as she closed the distance between them, Conrad informed her, “I wasn’t sure if you were coming”.

He watched as waves of panic and sadness took over her facial features instantly.

They had a date night planned tonight, but given everything going on between them lately, he didn't know if she would show.

She sucked her lips in until he could only see a thin outline of them and nodded, “that’s fair”.

Conrad sighed and shook his head, “no, that’s not what I meant.. I just… are we okay?”.

Y/n took a seat next to her boyfriend and nodded faintly, “yes, Con, we’re okay. I’m just dealing with some stuff”.

He stared into her eyes for a moment, as if he were trying to read her troubles through them.

“And you don’t want to talk about it?” He asked, seeing the distant look her eyes held.

Y/n shook her head from side to side as she turned her gaze to stare off into ocean waves several feet ahead of them.

“Okay, I get that” he acknowledged, reaching for her hand that was resting on the sand between their legs.

Conrad held his breath as he waited for her reaction.

She let him take hold of it without resistance, but Conrad only found true relief when a few short seconds later she intertwined their fingers.

Yet, he couldn’t help but notice the slight hesitation she had in doing so instead of her normally instant behavior.

He snuck a gaze at y/n as she watched the water ripple in the ocean, the only sound surrounding them.

Using his free hand, Conrad silently opened the picnic basket on the other side of him.

He reached in and pulled out the bouquet of flowers he purchased for her.

“I.. umm.. I got you these” Conrad mumbled, unusually shy as he moved the flowers to the front of his body.

Y/n broke her stare at the ocean and turned just enough to look over at him.

As she did, her lips snapped into a gentle smile and her eyes became glossy.

Conrad picked up on her change in demeanor right away.

“Is it too much? I know you need space, I can get rid-“ he began offering.

Unbeknownst to him, his offer only increased the guilt she had felt swell up again upon seeing the flowers.

She rapidly shook her head, “no, it’s not too much. But, you didn’t have to get me flowers Con. I’m not mad at you, there’s no reason for you to apologize or offer flowers for it”.

Conrad was confused, to say the least.

He furrowed his eyebrows before lifting one up as he told her, “I ordered them the day before last, not because of whatever’s going on. They’re not meant as an apology".

“So.. wait. You got me flowers, just because?” Y/n squeaked.

Conrad nodded slowly, looking away from her as he nervously began to offer to undo it, “but if it-“

“Thank you” she interrupted, catching on to what he was worrying over.

“I just.. I don’t des-..thank you.” Y/n repeated, cutting herself off from the self-deprecating comment she began.

She squeezed his hand that she was still holding.

“When you’re ready to talk about whatever you’re going through, I’m here, okay?” He reminded her tenderly.

She smiled as she gracefully took the flowers and held them to her, her eyes zoning in on them.

“I know… but… It’s a long story, Con” she sighed, sniffing the flowers.

He stared at her, carefully taking in her words and body language, “you have my full attention. Always. For however long it takes”.

She raised her eyes and gave him a weak smile, “Thank you. I can’t even think straight to put anything into words… much less…”.

“I know” Conrad butted in, tugging her hand to him until she was closer.

He let go of her hand so he could wrap his arm around her shoulders comfortingly.

Y/n adjusted her sitting position as she had been sitting cross-crossed to hide her legs.

She moved until her legs were bent sharply, thighs hitting the back of her calves as she tried to shrink into his embrace.

“You’re not too hot?” Conrad inquired as he got more lemonade from the basket.

“No, why?” She implored, gratefully taking the glass bottle from Conrad.

Conrad chuckled, his deep laugh making her tingle, “it’s nearly one hundred degrees out and you’re in jeans”.

She faltered, eyes now resting on her pants, “Oh, that, yeah I uhh.. just didn’t want to burn”.

Conrad rested his hand behind him, bracing his back as he raised an eyebrow at her in suspicion , “I’ve known you long enough to know you don’t burn y/n”.

As she sat in silence, staring at her legs, Conrad panicked he overstepped.

But he could see the look in her eyes even though they weren’t looking at him, and he could see her deep sadness.

“Sweetie, what is it?” He pleaded, his cheek resting on his other shoulder.

“I’m fine” was the only thing she said.

Conrad decided not to push it any further at the moment and went back to focusing on their date.

It was only a handful of minutes later when y/n saw a girl in shorts running to what appeared to be her much taller boyfriend.

She bit her lip as the girl's boyfriend smiled with clear glee as he lifted her up into the air.

Y/n didn’t want Conrad to catch her watching the other couple so she began pretending she was scanning the whole beach.

Conrad was trying to make small talk but stopped when y/n turned back to their picnic with tears in her eyes.

Normally her eyes were a source of comfort and joy for Conrad, but right now they caused a sharp pain in his chest.

“Woah! Hey, hey” he frowned deeply, cupping her cheek, “why are you crying?”

“I'm not fine. I know I said I was, but, I'm not” she admitted as she repeatedly blinked in an attempt to keep the tears from falling.

Conrad nods sympathetically, “I know.. Are you ready to talk about it?”

With a loud sigh, she shook her head.

She wanted to get over insecurities instead of alerting Conrad to why she felt he shouldn’t be with her.

“Okay, that’s alright” Conrad hummed.

“Want some y/f/f?” he offered, holding a dish of her favorite fruit before her, in hopes of changing the subject to something neutral.

She smiled at the change in subject and nodded.

TEXTS

Conrad tapped his foot against the dirty recliner he was seated in as he reread his texts from the last few days.

He was still struggling to figure out what was happening to y/n and to their relationship.

It didn’t matter to him that he was currently at some party his brother and friend had dragged him to.

His mind was, as usual, stuck on y/n.

He didn’t even bother physically acknowledging it when his brother and Steven approached him at some point that night.

The boys stood before him silently for a moment.

“Do you think she’s seeing someone else?” Steven asked carelessly as he sipped on his beer.

Jeremiah aggressively smacked the back of Steven’s head as Conrad snapped his eyes up.

“No” Conrad defended, “y/n wouldn’t do that”.

Steven offered him a semi-apologetic curl of his lips, “I’m just saying man, it would make sense as to why she’s acting weird”.

Squinting harshly at his friend, Conrad argued, “distant, not weird”.

Jeremiah hummed in agreement, offering Conrad a beer.

Conrad pushed it away, not wanting anything to impair his analyzing of the situation.

“Same thing, only you’d see a difference in that” Steven stated with an eye roll.

Conrad sighed loudly.

Conrad knew he had always been great at causing distance with people whenever he wanted to.

Yet, it was beyond infuriating to him that he didn’t know how to fix it when someone else was doing that to him instead.

It also made him feel guilty for the times he had done this to her in the past.

But he simultaneously, slightly, wished if anyone were to be causing the distance between them that it was him doing it.

Because during those times, he could at least fix the behavior if he were the one doing it.

Yet that wasn’t the case now and to make it worse, Conrad didn’t even know why she was doing it.

So how was he to fix it?

“Oh…umm..!” His brother gasped, making Conrad follow his wide-eyed stare.

As Conrad’s head faced the door, he saw y/n and a couple of her friends had arrived.

He noticed y/n was biting her lips aggressively and avoiding eye contact with everyone in the room.

“I thought you said she wasn’t feeling like going out places?” Steven pointed out.

Jeremiah smacked his head again in response as he muttered for him to shut up.

Conrad ignored their bickering, as well as the pain in his heart, as he took in the uncomfortable body language she was displaying.

He knew something was wrong, and no matter the metaphorical distance currently between them, he needed to offer his help.

Even if she wouldn’t take it, he couldn’t bear the idea of leaving her to face whatever the discomforting situation was on her own.

“I’ll be back” he mumbled, not sure if he actually would be or not, as he stood up.

“Bro… maybe you should let her come to you” Jeremiah suggested respectfully.

Conrad hesitated as he debated the suggestion.

But as he watched y/n nervously fiddle with her fingers, he firmly shook his head.

Conrad steadily made his way over to her, watching as she tried to slip away from the other guests.

Just as y/n was about to side step another person and slide out the patio door, he grabbed her hand.

She stiffened in response, making him want to drop her hand.

But, when she refused to acknowledge him, he held on; determined to stop her from trying to distance herself more.

“We should talk” Conrad stated confidently, moving to the front of her to guide them outside, away from the party.

“I don’t want to talk” she argued, her voice clipped.

“Y/n, you’re not going to win this. I have far more experience being a stubborn recluse than you” Conrad smirked, changing his approach.

Nonetheless, y/n ignored him, only trying to remove her hand from his grip.

“Are you upset with me?” Conrad inquired.

“I told you, I’m fine” she snapped, biting her cheek instantly as she watched Conrad flinch at her sharp tone.

He pulled himself together, “No you’re not. Don’t shut me out”.

”Yeah, well, I shut everybody out. Don't take it personally. It's just easier." She remarked, pushing her guilt aside.

“I’m your boyfriend y/n, not some random person you just met. It’s different. I thought we were stronger than that” Conrad declared with a steady gaze.

”I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression." She retorted rudely, moving to go around him.

For a moment Conrad faltered, feeling his old ways of shutting down creeping back.

But as his eyes scanned the woman he loved, he fought the temptations to cause distance between them on his end as well.

Instead, Conrad took a deep breath and adjusted his grip on her hand.

“Why are you doing this? If I did something just say it, scream it at me if you need to” He groaned loudly, still holding her hand.

Y/n remained silent.

She was afraid if she spoke, she would end up saying something too harsh as she couldn’t fight the sense she needed to push him away.

But she also didn’t want to hurt him in the process.

“You’re pushing me away and you won’t even tell me why!” He shouted, clearly fed up with her recent behavior.

“Do you not care about us anymore? Because you’re sure not acting like it. Fight with me if you’re mad, 'cause it’s like you don’t care at all” Conrad complained.

He tried to wait patiently for a response.

But when he saw she wasn’t going to do anymore more than stare at her shoes, he rolled his eyes.

He pushed through the turmoil he felt to mutter his response, “fine. Whatever.”

“I don’t care about us either anymore” Conrad lied, begrudgingly dropping her hand in order to walk away.

“Good” y/n shouted, her back to him as she whispered, “because you deserve more."

But the wind caught her voice, carrying it the short distance he’d walked, and made Conrad freeze as it hit his ears.

He snapped his body around, facing her, “what?”

Y/n didn’t respond, not expecting him to have heard, and was now utterly shocked.

“Y/n, what the hell did you just say?” Conrad asked sharply as he stood right before her once again.

“You deserve so much better Conrad! Happy?! Now just go, like you said, you don’t care anymore, so just leave” she snapped, her tone showing she was trying to be harsh but her true emotions seeping through as her voice trembled.

“Take it back” he ordered, glaring at her.

Without permitting any eye contact, y/n only responded with, “just fucking leave, C-Con” .

He gripped her hand firmly but tenderly.

“No. You know I only said I didn’t care because I was mad. It wasn’t true. But the first part” Conrad frowned, “what do you mean by that?"

The moonlight reflected off her skin enough to show Conrad her damp cheeks.

Seeing this, he moved to close the distance and wipe her cheeks.

Y/n sniffled as she turned away from him, “stop, I can’t do this”.

“Do what?” Conrad pushed, pleased to be getting somewhere.

She looked anywhere but his eyes as she tried to form an answer.

“Look at me, y/n, please “ Conrad shamelessly begged, tilting her head to him, “what you said just now… I don’t und-… you think I deserve more than this, more than you?”

Y/n felt her tears stream down her face as she looked into his deeply concerned eyes.

She couldn’t believe he was gazing at her with only sincere love, despite her behavior.

She nodded, “much more, yes. So just let me go and-".

“Shut up” Conrad cut her off, shaking his head in disbelief.

Her lips slightly parted in response.

As he stroked her jaw, he declared “I’m not letting you go, not over something like this. Do you actually not want us to be together?”

Y/n began to answer, but he held up his hand, “take out this 'deserve' bullshit, do you still want me? Do you still love me?”

She let out a small sob and nodded, “yes, of course. Of course I love you. I… I… I am sorry I made you question that. That proves why you des-".

He harshly shook his head, “I know you still love me. That’s why I’ve still been fighting for us. If I believed you no longer felt the same way, it would hurt, but I wouldn’t push it on you. I know there’s more going on but, I can’t know what that is unless you talk”.

As she began trembling before him, he rested his hands on her upper arms.

Her lip began violently quivering as she broke down and started crying.

While rubbing her arms, Conrad noticed the way she glance at his chest and he smiled softly, “come here”.

Y/n didn’t hesitate as she moved closer and erased the tiny distance between his chest and hers.

Conrad hummed as she let his arms embrace her, “shhhh sweetheart, we’ll figure this out okay? Whatever this is, we can handle it”.

She nodded against him as he comforted her.

After he had gotten her to settle down, Conrad led them both down the beach.

He stopped their silent walk when they reached a quieter section.

“I need to know what you meant” Conrad testified as he helped them sit down.

“It’s pretty straight forward Con” y/n sighed with a defeated shrug.

Conrad kept arm around her.

He frowned in her direction as she sat to his right, “not to me. What makes you think I deserve more than you? What does that even entail?”

“Just… someone better for you” she whispered, voice so painfully soft.

Conrad’s eyes narrowed more and he turned her to him, “don’t you dare say that, you’re perfect for me. What are you talking about?”

“No, I’m not Conrad. I… I can’t give you what the other girls can” y/n mumbled.

“Which is?” Conrad pressed, needing more information.

“Y/n, what is it that makes you feel inadequate?” He questioned upon not getting a response.

“Baby,-“ he sighed as she wiped her eyes.

“I’m too tall!” Y/n blurted loudly before crying harder.

Conrad felt all his muscles freeze at her response.

But as her body shook with her cries, he pulled it together and embraced her, “I don’t know what to say to that. What’s wrong with your height?”

“I’m too tall, I can’t give you the aesthetic short girlfriend thing guys like” y/n explained.

“I don’t care about that stuff, I love you as you are. There’s nothing wrong with your height” Conrad argued defensively.

“Conrad, please. I can’t do that gazing up at you innocently thing, I can’t sit between your legs, you can’t pick me up and carry me, you don’t have to bend down to kiss me, and it goes on. I know guys find that romantic and attractive and I’m-“ she rambled, her mouth finally confessing all the thoughts she’d struggled with lately.

Conrad’s face scrunched as his mouth parted and formed a frown, his tongue pressed against his top front teeth.

“Y/n, you can stop. I get the idea of what you’re getting at. But it’s simply not true” he swore.

“Con-“ she sighed, ready to argue with him.

“No, see, I like being able to look straight at you, kissing you without having to even think about it or move my head” Conrad began, his thumb faintly touching her cheek as he cleared the tears from her skin.

“Plus, you can still sit between my legs! Sure, your legs will stick out, but there’s nothing wrong with that. I can still hold you in that way, y/n." Conrad assured her.

"And, if you want, I have no issue with proving to you right now that I can pick you up and carry you. I assure you I can do that no matter your height, darling” He asserted firmly.

She nibbled on her bottom lip with her top row of teeth and nodded weakly against his palm, “I’m sorry that I’m so insecure”.

“Shh, no, that’s not something you can control nor should you feel bad about” Conrad corrected kindly.

“Thank you Con,…are you sure nothing about it bothers you?” She hesitatingly asked.

“I promise, nothing you come up with in your head is anything I’ve ever thought about, let alone have a problem with” Conrad assured her, stroking her cheekbone.

“Not even that I can’t wear cute heels when we go out, the way the other girls would?” Y/n inquired, still feeling guilty over him not getting to experience certain things with her.

“I don’t care what you wear as long as you’re comfortable. You could wear slippers for all I care. But why do you say you can’t wear heels?” Conrad responded, noticing the way she herself seemed disappointed in it.

“It’ll make me quite a bit taller than you” y/n pointed out simply.

He nodded slowly, confused, “So?”

“That doesn’t bother you?” Y/n questioned, holding onto his hand that was resting on her face.

Jutting his bottom lip out slightly, he shook his head, “No, does it bother you?”

“Only because I feel like it limits your experiences, or that others would say things to you about it” y/n elaborated.

“They don’t. To be fair, they probably know better than to talk bad about you at all near me” he told her.

A small giggle formed at his protective statement and she snuggled into him, “ I love you Con”.

“I love you too. Is this something you’ve always been insecure about?” Conrad asked, keeping the conversation flowing.

“Kinda. I’m taller than my parents and brother, so it’s been odd.. and it’s one of the first things people tend to notice about me so it makes me feel like people are always watching me” Y/n told him.

“Hmm” he nodded in sympathy as he absorbed her story.

"If it helps, the first thing I noticed about you was your eyes" Conrad confessed, holding her closer to him.

She bit her bottom lip as she grinned widely, shyly looking down at the sand.

"Is there anything else?" Conrad asked, hoping the answer was no but not wanting her to stop talking to him about what she was struggling with.

“Umm.. also like my ex,… He was like an inch taller so he hated it when I wore heels and his friends commented on it all the time” she added, feeling comfortable disclosing this to him now, “that’s when I learned guys like short girls and whatnot”.

Conrad shook his head, more to himself than anything, as frustration towards and anger at her ex burned in him, “I’m sorry, he’s an idiot. It was his own insecurity and ego issues, nothing about you”.

Shyly, she mumbled a soft thank you to her boyfriend.

He pulled her closer to him, hating someone made her feel like she wasn’t good enough.

“I love you Y/n. You’re so beautiful, this isn’t anything you need to worry about” he advised.

She hummed and nodded her head, “everyone has their flaws I suppose”.

Conrad shifted his lips to the side, muttering, “perhaps, but your height is not a flaw. Not in the slightest”.

Y/n suppressed her fears and looked into his loving gaze, allowing her eyes to display her confusion.

“Y/n, have you truly looked at yourself? At your legs? While trying to push those thoughts away or try to see the benefits of your height?” Conrad wondered aloud.

“No, because I don’t see any” she shook her head defiantly.

He hummed softly, “love, you do realize most models are tall?”

She faintly smiled appreciatively at him, “I’m not a model though, Con”.

“Maybe not professionally, but -“ Conrad hesitated shyly as he normally isn’t this direct and honest, “you might as well be. I’m serious about you being the most radiant person I’ve ever seen”.

He ignored his shyness and grinned as she snuggled into him more, her small smile starting to grow.

“I mean, you’re gorgeous. Everything about you is… but, honey, you clearly aren’t aware of how sexy long legs are” he chuckled, his fingertips traipsing her hip.

“Sure, some guys like shorter girls.. But, babe… long legs are…, Whew” he confessed, his cheeks flushing red even in the dark.

“Really?” Y/n asked, a bit nervous but with the hint of a smirk on her face.

“Yes, I shouldn’t say this cause you’ll use it against me,” he laughed, noticing her smirking at him, “but to be honest… even as I say that, you using it against me honestly doesn’t sound all that bad”.

Conrad laughed to himself, “you know when you’re out there playing volleyball with those shorts or swimsuit bottoms on, your legs on display?”

Y/n watched silently as he shook his head, biting his lip in lust, “it does things”.

She pressed her lips together before giggling, “oh?”.

Accepting his fate of confessing all his internal thoughts to her, Conrad hummed in confirmation and nodded “the only downside being the urge to keep the other guys from staring. But, you can wear whatever you’d like, I’m used to being ready for war when we go out. I can keep you safe. So, as long as you’re happy with what you’re wearing, I don’t mind having to deal with their stares”.

Y/n felt the temperature in her cheeks increase significantly at his confession.

“Just so long as no one else gets to leave with you” he adds firmly.

She wrapped her arm around him, “Never Conrad. No one’s ever even tried to make me feel as loved and beautiful as you’ve made me feel tonight”.

Kissing his cheek, she laughed as she added “despite the fact I probably have mascara streaks on my face”.

Y/n continued to laugh and ran her hand over her face to get any of the aforementioned streaks off.

Conrad removed her hand from her face nicely.

He used his own thumb to tenderly lift the mascara stains himself, “you deserve to know. I know communication isn’t my strong suit, and I may never find words beautiful enough to describe how I see you… let alone all that you mean to me.., but I will spend the rest of my life searching for them and telling them to you as I do”.

Y/n sobbed and snuggled tightly into him.

One of Conrad’s hands stayed on her face to keep wiping her tears.

The other was resting on her thigh through the material of her skirt.

She was wearing a skirt that covered her legs down to right above her knees.

“Sorry for crying over this” y/n apologized, hand on his chest.

“You never need to apologize to me. Ever. And certainly not for crying. I’ll always be here” Conrad promised.

“Thanks. Sorry-“ she laughed as he gave her a look as if reminding her of what he just said, “-I mean, thank you and I’ll work on not shutting down and pushing you away while I work through this”.

Conrad relaxed, “I’m glad, thank you”

“No. Thank you Con,” y/n rebutted, cuddling into his embrace even more as he kept his hands on her legs.

“Is this okay?” He asked as he watched her gaze down at his hands.

She nodded with a smile, “ yeah, when it’s you”.

Y/n rested her head on his chest.

“If I do, or say, something that makes you feel worse, or starts those thoughts, please tell me” Conrad requested softly.

Nodding she whispered, “okay”.

Y/n smiled appreciatively against his chest, her fingers tracing random patterns on his shirt, “I doubt I’ll need to, but, okay. I appreciate your support and understanding baby”.

Conrad grinned at the pet name he hadn't realized he had desperately missed hearing, “no problem y/n, I want to help, just tell me what you need. Let me give you what you need?”

“Right now…” she relaxed into him more, “just keep me warm, it’s a bit chilly and y/f/n made me wear this uncomfortable skirt and sleeveless top”.

Conrad ran his hands over her arms immediately to warm her up.

“But, in terms of this stuff, just be you Con” she murmured, “I never imagined someone being so comfortable with, and actually pleased by, my height. It’ll just take time to remember this and have it be what comes first instead of the toxic thoughts from before”.

“I can do that,” he agreed, “what do you say we get out of here and watch y/f/m at the beach house, under blankets? … and depending on how cold you are, I can make hot chocolate”.

Y/n took in the weather, feeling the slight rain hitting her.

It was raining, but not bad, more of a sprinkling.

But, despite the skirt she was in going down to her knees, the thin material offered her no warmth.

Plus, her top didn’t cover her exposed arms at all.

“You know I’m always down for cocoa” She giggled.

Conrad combed her hair with his hand as he smiled at her, “Then it’s a date, let’s go gorgeous”.

He helped her up from the sand, his hands on her hips.

His fingers were causally stroking her hips and the very top of her thighs as he steadied her on the sand.

As she looks at him, y/n could easily tell Conrad was not even thinking about it, nor was he aware he was doing it.

It was then that she recalled him doing it before.

But it was only this time, now, after tonight, that she saw it as a good thing; now that she understands his feelings about her legs and height.

“I need to tell y/f/n and y/o/f/n I’m leaving” she groaned, looking over towards the party.

“Text ‘em?” Con suggested, seeing the tired look in her eyes.

She nodded, and while she texted her friends, Conrad used his group chat with his brother and Steven to update them on his change in plans as well.

When done, he smirked, “I think it’s time I prove this to you”.

Before she could even contemplate what he meant, Conrad had swiftly picked her up.

She gasped at first but then giggled at his behavior.

“You should hold on though, honey,” he said, not wanting to risk her safety.

She laughed and shook her head, “Con, you can put me down, I get your point”

He does as she says but holds her to him, rubbing her arms to keep her warm as they walk home.

“Can we try something?” Conrad randomly inquired.

“Sure Con” she sweetly replied.

“If you’re comfortable with it, hop on my back?”He suggested.

He knew she was in a skirt but that wasn’t why he checked if she was comfortable with it.

He was worried about her emotional status with the behavior since it had to do with her legs and her height.

Conrad wasn’t stressed about anything showing when carrying her on his back as he knew y/n wore volleyball/spandex shorts under any skirts or summer dresses.

She told him long ago she did that for comfort so she never had to worry about it if she ran or did something that would lift the material.

So Conrad knew that nothing would show even with her legs around him.

But he wanted her to be comfortable emotionally as well and didn’t want to push her too much.

He began leaning down as he waited for her answer.

“I don’t know if it’ll work, Con” she admitted worryingly, afraid he’d be disappointed if it didn’t work right when they tried.

“If not, that’s okay, but, I think it will” Conrad said, after analyzing her words carefully.

“Okay, “ y/n said, letting him sink lower so she could get onto his back.

She slowly lifted herself onto Conrad’s back, his hands immediately bracing her legs as she wrapped them around him.

Conrad noticed she had tensed at first, but soon relaxed as he tenderly squeezed her thighs.

He began slowly rubbing his thumbs over her legs as he securely held her up, her legs hooked around him with her ankles loosely locked onto selves.

He grinned at her ability to due to that, another benefit of her height.

Conrad was pleased as it added another safety measure that would ensure she couldn’t fall off easily.

“Want to change?” Conrad offered when they arrived at his house.

“You can pick whatever from my closest, or some of your clothes are here too in the dresser” he told her, letting her slide down his back and step onto the hardwood floor.

She bit her inner lip and gave him a smug smile, “are your black Cousins Beach sweats clean?”

Conrad laughed at her very specific inquiry, “yeah, I think it’s in the bottom left drawer. The matching hoodie you got me is hanging in the closet”.

“Thanks Con!” She cheered, rubbing up the stairs to his room.

He smiled to himself as he went to the kitchen to make some hot chocolate for them as she changed into more comfortable clothing.

Y/n changed quickly and bolted down the stairs, sliding into the kitchen with his socks she had on.

She wrapped her arms around him, adjusting herself to be able to rest her head against his head instead of his shoulder.

Conrad grinned widely as he let go of the spoon, resting his hands over hers for a moment in peaceful silence.

He hummed to himself before he resumed stirring the cocoa mix.

When he finished, he turned around in her arms, smugly eying her in his clothes.

Y/n caught his smirk and how his ego inflated at the sight.

She rolled her eyes playfully and reached for one of the cups.

Conrad tsked and held the cup up in the air, above his head.

But, since she’s not shorter than him, it was still within her reach if she tried hard enough.

He smiled as she raised an eyebrow at him and held her hand just before the cup to show him she could still grab it.

“See, another plus for you” Conrad pointed out, kissing her cheek.

“It doesn’t bother you that you can’t successfully tease me by doing that?” Y/n pondered, ready to bring her hand back down.

He shook his head, “Not at all, because, while you’re focusing on taking it from me as I’m holding it up over our heads..”

“It makes it easier to do this” He happily declared, her body pressed against him as her arm lingered in the air, eyes on the mug again.

Before she could react to what he was telling her, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers.

She giggled happily as she grabbed the cup and lowered it to the counter next to him.

Y/n pulled him closer for another kiss, her breath hitting his lips as she teased “you could kiss me regardless of my height, Con”.

He bounced head from side to side as if thinking deeply, “Hmm… true, but, look how amazing it is to be able to just…”

With that, Conrad pressed his chest to hers, closing the few faint inches between them again, and kissed her with ease.

“I love that” He whispered, his lips still hovering over hers.

Y/n picked up her mug and grabbed his hand with her free one before dragging him to the living room.

Conrad sat down and situated then on the couch, situating her between his outstretched legs.

She knew his arrangement was intentional but found it sweet nonetheless.

Y/n smiled and curled up into him.

Even though she knew why he arranged them like that, it still did help her feel more comfortable in her own body while around him.

Y/n and Conrad were snuggled up together as they watched the movie and snacked on popcorn; warm and relaxed in each other's embrace.

“By the way, these sweats, look incredible on you” Conrad suddenly whispered into her ear, his hand slipping into the pocket of his sweatpants she had on.

He watched as she bit her lip with faux innocence, “not only are they one of my favorite pairs of yours because, God they’re soft! but also…”

She turned to look into his attentive gaze, “I usually avoid black since it can make people look taller… But since you like that…”.

Conrad felt his grin grow until he knew he was smiling like an idiot, all of his teeth showing, “Fuck, I love you”.

Slightly out of breath, he added, “and yes, I do like that. You are stunning in everything, including black. Especially, if it’s my clothing”.

As he noticed how flustered she became, Conrad’s grin turned into a confident smug as he kissed her shoulder.

The bonfire had been going for at least an hour by the time y/n and Conrad made their appearance.

It was supposed to be a relaxing evening with miscellaneous other beach goers.

Yet, it started off rough as it was now already after dusk and upon arriving, y/n promptly hit her head on one of the hanging decorations she didn’t see.

Y/n bristled immediately as those in the crowd who noticed her mishap laughed.

It wasn’t like the decorations were hung low, she was just taller than most of the girls.

And, the darkness did not aid her clumsiness nor her height difference.

Had they gotten there before sunset, she could’ve memorized where the obstacles were prior to it becoming hard to see.

Conrad clenched his fist at his side as the scene unfolded, not wanting to make a scene for her sake but pissed at those who were laughing.

However, as he watched his girlfriend take a few timid steps backward before hastily spinning around to face him, he wanted to change his mind.

He could see her insecurity and embarrassment clear as day, making him frown.

Conrad stepped forward and cautiously formed a secure grip on her.

He glared at those who were laughing, as he whispered, “you okay?”

She took a deep breath, “Yeah, thanks baby”.

It wasn’t intentional but they had gone separate ways at some point that night.

Conrad had excused himself to use the restroom.

At the same time, y/n told him she was going to go catch up with a friend for a bit.

However, she soon became thirsty and made her way to the unstable drink table that was barely staying upright on the uneven sand.

As she did, she unintentionally overheard a group of girls gossiping with each other.

“I think they’re breaking up,” one girl said, y/n recognized the voice as belonging to this girl from the country club; Hannah.

“Really?” Another girl asked, this time it was a voice y/n didn’t recognize.

“Yeah, Jenny and I heard something about that. Y/n and him have not been seen out at many parties together lately. Which isn’t normal. Like, oh my gosh, the other night, she came with friends and Conrad came with Jeremiah instead!” Hannah exclaimed with a disgusting amount of glee.

“Damn, I wonder what happened. I thought they were good” one of the girls who had been silent earlier spoke up.

Y/n didn’t even bother trying to figure out who it was that was sticking up for her relationship.

Instead, she felt a sheet of heartache and guilt slam against her.

She knew she was to blame, after all, she caused the distance between herself and Conrad.

It was the distance she caused that made people gossip like this about him.

She didn’t care what people thought of her relationship except for when it involved their views or opinions on Conrad.

Only then, did she feel the need to revise or reprimand someone for a backhanded comment.

“Oh God! I hope so! ‘cause Conrad’s soooo hot” Hannah grinned, sipping on her beer.

Y/n wanted to run but couldn’t.

It was as if her legs were punishing her for being insecure about them, because they now felt glued in place.

“I know girl, and you’d be so much cuter together” Sara, an old acquaintance of y/n’s from a few years ago, chimed in, making y/n take in a sharp gust of air.

“Honestly, like y/n is freakishly tall, even for him,” Hannah said, twirling her hair around her long polished fingernail.

“Seriously! I mean, girl! Do those legs ever stop? She’s like one of those… what’re they called.. oh, Amazon, girls” Hannah’s friend nodded.

Upon hearing this, her legs seemed to have finally agreed with her mind that she'd had enough as they shakingly began to move away from the group.

Finally, her body had decided to cooperate and y/n started to walk back to the fire to get away from their gossip.

However, it was still futile as party guests had suddenly surged closer, making it near impossible to pass.

Y/N’s eyes searched the crowd for either and escape route or her boyfriend.

As she scanned the area, Y/N heard Hannah laughing obnoxiously, “like what’s the point?! Sure she’s pretty. I guess.. but, those legs?”

Y/n unconsciously dropped her shoulders even lower and hung her head as it if made her look shorter.

“She is waaayy too tall, she knows it too” Sara scoffed, rolling her eyes.

“You think?” Hannah questioned with a sadistic smirk.

“Yeah, I’ve never seen her wear heels. She has gotta know it’s gross how tall she is compared to him” Sara answered confidently.

“Plus, everyone knows a taller boyfriend and shorter girlfriend is much better, no wonder he is ending it with her!” The other girl agreed, winking at Hannah.

Y/n clenched her teeth together as she began pushing her way through, dropping her drink onto the sandy floor.

Conrad had been laughing as he visited with one of his friends.

However, every few minutes he had done a quick scan to make sure she was safe.

He had begun this habit long before she even mentioned any self-confidence issues; instead, it was done out of his normal protective tendencies.

Once again his eyes searched the sea of bodies as he tried to find his girlfriend.

He ignored his friend’s conversation as his mind and eyes went into tunnel vision upon not seeing y/n where she was the last time he checked.

Not wanting to be rude to his friend, he nodded along cluelessly to the conversation as he kept scanning for her.

Another thing Conrad loved about her was that her height made it way easier for his panic to calm as he could easily find her in crowds when he needed her presence or when checking on her status.

So why couldn’t he now?

“Jere, do you see y/n?!” Conrad asked in a slightly panicked tone, not caring that he was cutting their friend off mid-sentence.

“No, do you think she left?” Jeremiah wondered as he stood on his tippy toes to look.

Conrad shook his head, “no, man. Things had been better the last few days and she wasn’t shrinking herself as much or running off”.

He tapped his thigh nervously before he thought to call her.

Conrad unlocked his phone to call her, worried that maybe some guy had tried something that Conrad couldn’t hear due to the loud music.

He’d never forgive himself if she was in danger and he didn’t know.

As he looked at his phone, his eyes widened upon seeing he had a few texts and a missed call from her.

Conrad audibly cursed himself for not having his vibration on so he could feel the notifications even if the music was too loud to hear them.

His fingers dashed across his screen as he called her back, “I’m so sorry! I just saw. I’m so sorry, where are you baby?!”

Y/n loudly sniffled as she struggled to talk.

But Conrad could just barely make out that she was trying to apologize and to say he could stay and enjoy the party.

“Hey, love, it’s okay, just tell me where you are, please. I need to know” he redirected as he stood on the chair beside him.

“I’m by the lifeguard stand” she whispered.

Conrad shifted his gaze to look further down on the beach, away from the party, and saw her leaning on the tower.

“I am on my way” he promised, already sprinting towards her; not caring what people might be thinking of his sudden behavior.

When he reached her, he promptly wrapped her in his arms and held her to him within seconds of her turning to him with sorrow.

“C'mere. Sit down. Tell me what's going on” Conrad guided.

“I-I can’t stop the self-deprecating thoughts about my height” she muttered, ashamed.

He kissed her forehead, “I know it’s hard Yn, but please, don't listen to that voice inside your head, listen to mine."

She wanted to just agree and not tell him what happened tonight.

But she knew better by now.

“Con… I-it’s not just in my head though” she whimpered into his chest as she lowered herself deeper into the sand.

Conrad paused as he tried to understand what she meant by that statement.

Y/n began crying harder as her shame took over her mind.

Conrad once again knew he looked like a kicked puppy, his eyes wide and sad as his lips arched downwards at a steep angle, “oh sweetie... what happened? Did someone say something to you?”

Conrad tried to keep his protective anger in check as she nodded.

“Who? What did they say? Why-?” He began firing off questions.

“Doesn’t matter Con, they’re right. They too agree you deserve better-“ she interrupted, not wanting him to keep pushing for more details as to who said it.

“I’m going to strangle every last son of a bi-..., Y/n, love " Conrad broke, watching y/n crying against him.

He noticed she began leaning back as if thinking of shutting down and pretending she was fine.

“Hey, hey, hey, don't let them say that. You're beautiful,” Conrad assured her.

“They think I’m too tall for you, Connie” y/n pouted with a small sniffle.

“I don't care what they think, to me, you are perfect” he confessed, rubbing her back.

“It’s… it’s not just me okay? Guys in general think tall girls are hot” Conrad argued, seeing her doubt still present.

“Mmmh, I only care about you anyways” she smiled softly, her hand bunching the material of his shirt between her palm and fingers, “but it’s just hard because I know guys don’t and I… I’m sorry it’s just I feel like you’re just saying that to try and make me feel better”.

Conrad licked his lips and nodded, “one second”.

Y/n waited wordlessly as Conrad typed away on his phone screen.

“See! Look, Harry Styles himself says, and I quote, ‘tall girls are hot. Short girls are cute.’” Conrad read, setting his phone back down.

“HARRY STYLES. Your favorite, and he too says tall girls are hot. Now see, if he knew you, he’d know you were both cute and hot. But, I’m glad he doesn’t cause I don’t need that kind of competition” Conrad teased lightly, smiling down at her.

She choked on a small laugh and shook her head as she cuddled into him, “there’s no competition Conrad. You’re everything. I just want you to feel good about who you’re with”.

“Y/n, I never doubted that I wanted to be with you. Not even when I just had a crush on you, let alone now” he promised, playing with her hair.

Kissing the side of her head, he whispered, “You're gorgeous baby, come closer, let me spoil you with all my love."

“Cooonnnn” she said, squirming in his arms as he placed kisses all over her.

Conrad didn’t say anything and just kept kissing her in random places until she was laughing loudly and visibly happy.

“I love you” she breathed out as he let her catch her breath.

“I love you too. I’m not sure what was said tonight, but they’re wrong. They’re beyond ignorant if they cannot see how incredible you are. Whatever was said, I’m sorry honey and I wish you’d tell me what happened so I can help even more. But it’s not true baby” Conrad rambled, feeling as though she was in a better mood to talk about it now.

“Basically… They said you finally saw things clearly regarding my height and were breaking up with me because of it” Y/n tentatively explained, knowing he’d be protective.

“I know it’s not true Con. But-“ she added, seeing the concern mixing with his otherwise angry eyes.

“Who?!” Conrad growled, fist clenched in the sand.

“Connie, it doesn’t-“ she resisted, sitting up and looking into his eyes directly this time.

“Y/n. Who. Said. That. To. You?” Conrad repeated, his eyes ablaze.

“It wasn’t to me, I was trying to grab a drink and overheard them saying that stuff… and going on and on trashing me and my height” she admitted, hand on his tense shoulder to try and calm him down.

Conrad knew what she was attempting to do, so he took several deep breaths in through his nose.

“Y/n, I need you to tell me who this was,” he asked again, his eyes softening as he looked at her.

“Con, it doesn’t change anything” she argued, squeezing his defined bicep.

“You’re right, they’re still wrong regardless. But, this cannot go unaddressed” he stubbornly huffed.

She sighed softly in defeat “I only cared because it dealt with you, if they were just saying the insults it wouldn’t have impacted so much”.

“You now I’ve not been lying about how I feel about you, your height, and your legs right?” Conrad questioned, letting the sand sift through his fingers as he released his grip on it.

“I know Connie, and I’m working on trying to get over the thoughts I had before” she promised, giving him a smile.

“It’s just hearing someone say that, you, in particular, have a problem with my biggest insecurity; you know? I’m trying Con, I promise..” y/n muttered weakly.

“Hey, I know, and you’ve been doing so well and it’s not easy to get over insecurities. But, I’m here to help. I’m not mad it impacted you, babe, I’m mad that they were talking crap about you and claiming that I thought those things” Conrad clarified, seeing how his anger was misinterpreted.

She nodded, shifting herself around to have her back to him again, “thank you Con, I’m okay now. I just needed you; you know?”

Conrad snuggled into her, “I know. And, see, that’s another thing I love about your long legs honey. You’re always there to support me when I need it, but your height means you can hold me the same way that I hold you. Like how you did when I had a long night dealing with Jere and my mom, and I was really upset”.

Y/N’s mind flashed back to a few summers ago when Conrad was very overwhelmed.

Susannah had gotten sick again, the cancer suddenly spreading rapidly.

Conrad blamed himself for not catching it earlier as if he could’ve somehow seen it coming if he’d payed more attention.

It was during a night that summer when she saw Conrad fully cry for the first time.

She’d rarely even seen his eyes water during their years of friendship, but that night he was sobbing.

Y/n couldn’t imagine the grief and pain he was in but comforted him as best as she could nonetheless.

She had wrapped him up in her arms so tightly it was as if she was shielding him from the hurt.

He clung to her as he shook, opening up to her in a way he hadn’t before.

Afterwards he was embarrassed for having been so vulnerable and not coming off as some overly emotionally-strong person.

But he still told her how much he appreciated her presence and comfort.

Y/n silently smiled to herself as she recalled the scene and the way he was so pleased to simply have had her there.

Conrad smiled back as he saw hers, “see.”

She nodded, resting her head back against his chest, “it is nice”.

He chuckled softly, “yes, it is, y/n. I just love holding you all the time. Like this is perfect. But, when I’m needing to remind myself that you’re here with me and I have you for support…, having your arms holding me and letting me just rest in your embrace, with your legs wrapped around me to keep me even closer…, nothing could’ve helped more than that”.

She rubbed her head against his chest while extending her legs as she stayed seated between his legs still, but now tapping his left foot with hers.

Conrad quickly got the point and raised his leg slightly so she could hook her leg underneath it.

Y/n slid her leg against the sand moving it below his leg slightly, her foot arched back to press against his ankle.

Conrad smiled to himself as he clasped his hands around her torso, “I still have some questions I need you to answer”.

“Okay,” she complied, rubbing her foot on his ankle as best as she could.

With some resistance she answered his questions, informing Conrad on who said these things, and what exactly was said.

Conrad kept himself calm as he reminded himself that he needed to get her situated first and then he’d deal with them.

As such, he thanked her for answering and soon took her home.

After he knew she was safe and in bed, he went back to the bonfire.

It didn’t take him long to find the girls he was furious with.

He didn’t care if he was making a scene or not as he went on about how he loved her and that the alleged flaws they were gossiping about were only a small example of the ways in which y/n was the most beautiful person.

The girls merely gawked at him in silence.

Conrad concluded his night by informing them that he better not ever hear about them talking that way about y/n again and then headed home.

~

The next day, y/n woke up to text from mother saying there was something for her on the steps that she brought inside and set by the door before leaving.

Y/n yawned as she slowly walked downstairs and to the door, sleepily rubbing eyes.

Seeing an elegant white box with a delicately wrapped silk bow around it, her mouth parted.

Y/n moved the bow ever so slightly to the right as her eyes caught glimpse of a small note card.

It didn’t have her name on it, but instead, the card was labeled “Babe,” with a small heart in handwriting she immediately knew recognized as Conrad’s.

She shook her head and smiled to herself, carefully carrying the box back to her room as she texted him.

As she walked, she removed and read the note card carefully.

“Y/n,

I hope you don’t mind, but I told y/f/n that I wanted to get you some heels. You mentioned feeling like you couldn’t wear them with guys, and I don’t want you to feel restricted with me. If you don’t want to wear them, or rather they be returned, that’s okay. I just wanted you to have the option. Y/f/n mentioned these were ones you’d had your eyes on, so hopefully you don’t mind me getting them for you. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you and know just how stunningly beautiful your height is. I promise to keep reminding you of that until you genuinely feel it too.

Heels or no heels, Stand Tall Darling!

-Conrad ❤️”

Tears were silently streaming down her face as she plopped into the bed, barely reaching the edge in time.

She wiped her eyes and then dried her hands on her lap before moving the card over to her nightstand.

As she turned back to the box, she slowly and tenderly unwrapped the bow from around the box, watching as it slipped off the corners and onto her bed.

Y/n opened the lid of the box excruciatingly slowly as if it would suddenly bite her.

Inside the box was the exact pair of black Gucci heels she and y/f/n had found in town a few weeks ago when y/f/n was getting ready for an event.

Y/N’s fingertips traced the velvet as tears fell down her cheeks despite the smile on her face.

“Connie” she whispered lovingly into the air even though she was by herself.

She delicately placed the shoes back in the wrapping paper in the box before getting her phone resume texting Conrad.

TEXTS

Conrad came back later that night after spending time with brother and Steven as he promised.

He knocked on her door and excitedly waited for her to answer it.

They had a fancy/formal date night planned at a new restaurant in Cousins.

Y/n took a deep breath and adjusted her dress once more before opening the door.

Her lips parted, tongue no longer resting at the bottom of her mouth as she took in the sight of him dressed up in a suit instead of his casual beach clothes.

“You look so good Con” she complimented as she grinned at him.

He just stared silently at her as his breath became caught in his throat.

“Con? Umm,” she panicked, rubbing her hands on the edge of her dress that was resting on her thigh.

She was now worrying her height made the dress too short, “is it too short on me? 'cause-"

Conrad soon found his head rapidly snapping side to side as his attention came back around.

He was still in a bit of a daze as he responded breathlessly, “no, no that’s not it, it’s not too short, …you just- wow”.

A surge of confidence rushed through y/n and made her giggle as she played with her hair, “yeah?”

Conrad dazedly nodded, still struggling to voice his compliment, “I- wow…- I umm- …you-".

Seeing him flustered over not being able to compose a simple sentence, y/n stepped closer with newly found confidence now.

As a result, she only slightly noticed the fact she had to dip her head slightly to kiss him now that she was in heels.

Conrad took a moment to react, but slowly wrapped her in his arms as he kissed her back.

When they pulled apart, he blushed and rubbed his neck.

“Okay, let me try that again” he chuckled briefly and took a deep breath, “y/n, you look radiant”.

Y/n bit her lip, placing her hand in his hair, “good, I’m at your level then honey”

Conrad glanced up slightly to look at her and teasingly shook his head.

He smirked as he argued, “you’re a level higher”.

Y/n laughed at his shamelessly bad joke, “damn, you’re cute! Now, let’s go, I’m starving”.

“Why are you staring?” Conrad smiled shyly, setting his menu down so he could see his girlfriend.

“Oh, uh, hey” she giggled nervously, making him smile more, “I just wanted to remind you that I love you."

At her confession, Conrad’s smile grew even more as he sweetly hummed.

He reached across the table for her hand, “I know you do, and I love you too”.

She nodded, squeezing his hand, “thank you for everything Connie”.

He responded by lifting her hand to his lips as she shook his head, brushing off what he felt was her unnecessary gratitude.

“Wait! Stay still, you look so ethereal like this." Conrad blurted from his lowered car window as he neared her.

Y/n had been waiting outside as Conrad pulled the car up for her.

She fought to keep her eyes from watering at how wonderful he was.

She agreed to let him take a photo as he declared the moonlight was hitting off of her just right.

He smiled and showed her the photo, “You know what I see here?”

“A beautiful girl?” She asked, expecting that to be his answer.

He kissed her cheek, “well, that’s self-explanatory since you’re in it, but, yes”.

She slapped his arm playfully and smiled.

Conrad slid his arm around her with a smug grin, “I see my precious, beautiful, tall, smart, and all-around wonderful girlfriend”.

She beamed over at him, “I seriously think this’ll be a much easier insecurity to overcome than I ever would’ve expected thanks to you Con”.

Conrad’s smug changed to a prideful smile as he stroked her cheek.

Y/n pulled him to her as they stood beside his car, silently rocking in each other's arms for a while.

As they moved to get into the car, she stopped and held his face in her hand, "seriously, thank you Con”.

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Request Information/Process/Status

[sapphire-weapon]

I just wanted to say that as a person in their early 20s who only just got into resident evil after re8, it was so fun finding your blog and scrolling through all the little blurbs you’ve got. fandom elders always have the best resources and lore and make spaces a million times better, so thank u for mentioning all the little game details and fandom notes that would’ve been forgotten or missed otherwise to newcomers!!

on another note, i wanted to ask if you had any amusing/chaotic tidbits relating to the re fandom in its earlier days, whether it be speculations of scenes or character directions or interactions that people were so sure were going to happen in later re games that absolutely did not happen, fics that were really influential, insane fanwar stories, memes that used to be rlly prolific and now don’t really come up, etc. it’s something i love to discover about fandoms because it rlly is a “you had to be there,” type of information that people don’t document the way they would with canon developments that you can easily find on wikipages

Anon... I'm gonna fucking cry. 😭 This is exactly what I wanted this blog to become once I realized I was falling back into RE hell. Anything that I can do to make this canon more accessible to new people, I want to do it. I think I've said this before, but I literally cannot imagine what it must be like getting into this series this late in the game, because RE is terrifyingly huge and abstract and very old by video game standards.

As for the second part of your ask... Man, I have so many stories. I won't tell all of them, because if I try to, it'll be weeks before I can post this LMAO so let me just break this up into sections and I'll tell whatever the first stories that pop into my head are.

FAN THEORIES

So, historically, RE fandom was never big on fan theories. Fan theories and meta were something that Silent Hill people did, not so much RE people.

BUT there is one that refuses to die, and I have seen people scream about it as recently as Revelations 2.

People are convinced that Steve Burnside is going to come back. This drum has been getting banged ever since the original Code Veronica released in 2000, and even though it has literally never been hinted at at any point in the 23 years since then that Capcom even remembers that that was a possible thing that was set up, the fandom is still waiting for it to happen.

And it's all because Wesker stole his body and fucked off with it and was a complete asshole about it when he did it. That's it, that's the whole reason.

But then that also ties into the fact that there are still people who are convinced that Wesker didn't actually die in RE5 and that he's gonna come back any day now, guys, really -- and that's just a whole level of death denial I've never seen before. Dude got hit with two rocket launchers in the middle of an active volcano. YOU LITERALLY DO NOT GET MORE DEAD THAN THAT.

INFLUENTIAL FICS

Surprisingly, none. RE didn't have an "I Know What's Beneath the Snow Fields" or a "Walk This World." There were influential authors, though. I won't name them because I have no idea where they are now or if they're still around, but. I will say that there was one very influential fic writer in Cleon fandom who utilized literally so many headcanons in her fics that her characters were utterly unrecognizable. Some of the headcanons blatantly contradicted canon, even. But her writing style and her prose were so, so, so fucking good that it didn't matter. For a while, Cleon fandom almost became like a cult around her fics -- and, as someone who only dabbled in Cleon because my friends shipped it, but I had no personal stake in the ship myself -- it was really, really weird to watch this go down.

INSANE FAN WAR STORIES

I was going to go off on a huge thing about the Aeon vs Cleon wars, but seeing as how they're still fucking happening for some god forsaken dumbass reason, I decided not to.

So, we'll forget that. And while this isn't a war story, exactly, I do need to give a special shoutout to the Wesker wives of old.

If you are at all familiar with the stories of old school Final Fantasy VII fandom of girls who convinced themselves that they married Sephiroth on the astral plane -- guess what. RE fandom had those girls, too, and we called them Wesker wives.

There was one really prominent one on LiveJournal back in the day who used to get art commissioned of her and Wesker together, and she would post pictures of herself "in uniform" for him, and like. Would legitimately write as though she was actually married to the fictional character Albert Wesker. She'd answer questions from people and shit.

And she was really, really pretty, so everyone was just kind of stunned by this, because this girl very clearly took care of herself and worked out and knew how to do her hair and makeup -- she always looked really good -- and it was just like... how did someone like you fall so far off the reality wagon?

And then it slowly started to come out that she maybe had some nazi ideology behind her and kept referring to Wesker has her Aryan king or someshit, and that was about the point where my Jewish ass backed away from that whole trainwreck and stopped paying attention to it, so I don't actually know how this story ends.

MEMES

So, uh. If you've been on the fandom side of the internet long enough, you'll at least have heard of the "it's over 9000" meme, even if you're not into Dragon Ball or ever seen an episode of it in your life.

Well, the same guy who started that meme also left his mark on RE fandom, too. The whole "Jill sandwich" thing was always a meme in its own right, but "Hope this is not Chris's blood" was added onto it thanks to this video. So, "Hope this is not Chris's blood" was a big, big meme in the late aughts that I really don't see around anymore. It was used as a sort of... shitpost response to a shitpost, if that makes sense? Like, your friend sends you some obviously stupid bullcrap or a dumb meme and you just respond back "hope this is not chris's blood."

This cap from Code Veronica was a huge meme for a long time, too, and I DO NOT FUCKING KNOW WHY

And then.

There was this masterpiece. Do not watch this with other people in the room unless your willingness to let others bear witness to your own cringe is very high. It's also NSFW. And, actually, this video might be the single oldest meme in RE fandom history. The YT link I provided here is not the original source of it. It was some stupid fan edit that was making its rounds on Kazaa, and I'm not joking. I want to say this edit is no younger than OG RE2 (so 1998).

And I would negligent in my duties as a fandom historian if I did not introduce you to the glory that is Resident Evil 4 Days of Our Lives. I STILL QUOTE THIS SHIT, TO THIS DAY.

Like, this is me on plurk referencing this stupid fucking shit as I'm liveplurking my very first playthrough of RE4R:

There was a part of me that was honestly kind of upset when the two cops at the beginning of RE4make didn't actually say to Leon, "I hear no one listens to you. Is that true, Captain Cubscout?" because that is unironically the single greatest line of dialogue that was ever written to be said by any character to Leon Kennedy, and it was written by some fuckin college kids back in the mid aughts.

And that's all I can think of for right now.

Thank u for indulging my old person desire to ramble on about "BACK IN MY DAY........." I appreciate u.

ETA: ok like i know i said i was only gonna mention shit that i could think of at the time that i responded to the ask but there is one more meme that i would be remiss to not mention

[sluttywonwoo]

dear beautiful tumblr user hotgirlwonwoo, did we ever get a part 4 of vern liking his best friend bc that shit has been living in my mind rent free and i need to know what happens next!! (pls ignore if u've already mentioned smth abt not doing anymore - i've been off tumblr for a while & couldn't find anything in ur recents posts kalsfjaf) love u lots ! x

read parts 1-3 here

you sound breathless on the phone, vernon thinks. had you been crying? his heart drops to his stomach at the thought. he hadn’t meant to be so weird when you came over. he just… couldn’t help it.

vernon had tried getting off again after you left. but he was too distracted to cum. he could tell you were upset by the way you blew him off at the door, but he still managed to convince himself that maybe things would be ok. now you weren’t replying to his texts, and he was getting worried. so he called you.

“what?” you demand upon answering, and that’s when vernon hears it. the heavy breathing. it catches him off guard, you must’ve been way more upset than you had been letting on. had something happened? had you needed him and he pushed you away? “vernon? are you there?” you ask, yanking him out of his spiraling. he realizes he hasn’t said anything yet.

“oh, uh, you weren’t answering my texts,” he says stupidly.

“i didn’t see them. but you only sent them thirty minutes ago. do you expect me to wait around all day for you to message me?”

he shouldn’t have called. this was a dumb idea. you sound impatient and angry and yet the uneven breathing on the other end of the line makes him think about having you underneath him. his mind wanders to what you’d sound like if you were out of breath because of him, if you’d pant or moan…

“no, not at all!” he scrambles. “you just seemed upset when you left earlier, so i thought you might be ignoring me.”

“i was upset,” you admit easily. the next part is a little harder to verbalize. “you were acting strange, like you wanted nothing to do with me… so i was just taking time for myself— away from my phone.”

hearing this makes vernon panic because that wasn’t the case at all. it was the opposite, actually. he wanted everything to do with you, and it was driving him crazy. he had never had a crush on a friend before and he was still having trouble coming to terms with it, but he hadn’t meant to make things weird between you in the process.

“i’m sorry,” he says hoarsely, “i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean to make you feel that way. i’ve just had… an off-day. it had nothing to do with you, but i shouldn’t have let it ruin our movie night.”

there’s a pause before you respond.

“it’s ok. i’m sorry you had a bad day. is it that professor again?”

“yeah,” vernon lies.

“you should’ve just told me! i could’ve typed up a strongly worded email for you or something.”

“i… was embarrassed about it. i’m not doing well in his class.” another lie.

“vernon, it’s just me. you know i won’t judge you about something like that.”

he does know that. but you would definitely judge him if you knew the truth.

“yeah, i know. i’m sorry.”

“i know you are. just… tell me next time, okay?”

“i will. and i’ll make it up to you! do you want to come back over? i know it’s kind of late, but we could watch another movie, or an episode of our show?”

“oh, um… i’m a little busy right now,” you answer.

vernon deflates, but he understands. he isn’t sure that he would’ve been able to keep his emotions in check if you were to come back over anyway. and then you’d be right back where you started.

“that’s okay!”

“i’m free tomorrow night, though.”

“i am too. you should come over then.”

“sounds good! i have one condition, though.”

“what is it?” he asks, willing to do quite literally anything for you.

“since you’re making up for today and all, i get to choose the snacks.”

“deal.”

he can hear you smiling through the phone when you continue. “okay, we have to have popcorn and red vines.”

“i’m on it. i’ll go to the store in the morning,” he assures you.

you work out the rest of the details together and then hang up for the night. vernon feels a million times better than he did when he dialed your number. he hasn’t ruined everything with you, at least not yet. he has twenty-four hours to get his act together so that things can feel normal between you two, and step one is getting rid of that pesky crush.

[angelplummie]

Hiii! Could please get his for Ushijima taking care of his sick s/o? Thank youuu ( ◜‿◝ )♡

USHIJIMA TAKING CARE OF YOU WHEN YOU’RE SICK

USHIJIMA X GN!READER

masterlist

a/n: this is very relevant to me bc i have a honking cold rn so what the hell ushi is taking care of me rn ! also sorry if this is total waffle i’m like delirious ill LMAO let’s see how this goes!

warnings: mentions of not eating (not ed related)

• so

• originally, you planned he would never even know u were sick, you didn’t want to worry him

• that went about as well as you would imagine

• there you were chilling in your apartment, under your covers with tissues surrounding you as you scrolled through tik tok

• you see a couple that you want toshi to see, a few cat videos, some chinchillas, a sprinkle of golden retriever puppies, the usual

•you aren’t sure if he really likes the videos, because he only ever replies with a thumbs up emoji, so u can’t tell if he’s just humouring you, but you send them anyway cuz if he doesn’t like them he can just not watch them

• (he does like it actually, he loves when you send him that stuff, thinks the animals are very cute and he likes to know that you think of him when he’s away)

• but there’s a fatal flaw in this cute gesture, he’s not supposed to know that u can b on ur phone rn!!!!!!

• when it gets to his lunch break, he sits on on the bench and sees his phone with a bunch of notifs with you

• he shits himself a little bc he thinks somethings wrong, but then he sees it’s just tik toks he relaxes

• he watches them first (enjoys them greatly might i add), then says ‘thank you for the videos, i was worried that something was wrong when i saw texts from you in the middle of the day :>’

• (oh my GOD my heart de so uses :> :< /:< EEEE i love him so much he’s so cute)

• you reply as soon as you see the message, which makes him suspicious

• ‘aren’t you at work?’

• busted

• there’s no point lying now, so u tell him ur off sick

• he leaves you on read and 45 minutes later, there’s a very tall man at your door

• “Toshi!!! what are you doing here?”

• “why didn’t you tell me you were sick? i would’ve been here earlier. you shouldn’t be alone when your ill y/n it’s not safe”

• you ask him how he managed to get home so fast, which is when you find out he TOLD THE COACH YOU GOT IN A CAR ACCIDENT

• YOURE LIKE HUH?!?!!!? he just shrugs and goes “if i said u were ill it would’ve taken me longer to get here, he might not have let me come at all”

• you’re touched, even if toshi is a little scary in his reasoning

• he places a hand to your forehead gently, frowning when it’s boiling

• “You’re burning up Y/N, you’re lucky I came”

• looks at you worriedly, he says you look ‘pallid’, to which you insist youre fine, it’s just a bad cold

• (he, of course, doesn’t care if it’s a ‘bad cold’ he’s still worried and hates seeing you look so small and weak and tired)

• he asks you what you’ve eaten, thrusts a tangerine in your face when you say nothing

• “you’ve got to eat at least something or else you’ll feel worse”

• he’ll just sit there until you eat it, you’re too weak to protest

• after he feels he’s assessed the situation (medical professional he is) he feels you could handle being moved to the living room to watch a movie

• he’ll carry you bridal style to the living room and plop you down on the sofa, jogging to grab blankets to keep you from getting cold

• he also gets a big bottle of water and places it right next to your head where you lay on the sofa, because of course you hadn’t drunk enough today

• he asks you what you want to watch, and when you say you’re not sure, he tells you the name of ever DVD you own just for you to have the full selection

• you settle on Barbie Rapunzel, and he settles down on the floor in front of the sofa to watch with you

• you don’t like him sitting on the ground, so instead he sits with your legs on his lap, blanket barley covering his knees

• your hand reaches for his, and he takes in warmly, thumb rubbing lovingly on the back of your hand

• all throughout the movie he’s making little comments that make you laugh and force feeding you water at regular intervals too

• as the movie continues, you start to get sleepy, which goes unnoticed by toshi bc he’s actually very invested in the film (marry me)

• when he does notice you’ve fallen asleep, he makes a little ‘oh!’ and turns the sound down a little

• he looks at ur little sleepy face surrounded by covers, you look like a sickly little angel

• he squeezes your hand very gently and whispers “I love you, please get well soon.”

hey guys!!! hope u enjoyed my word vomit about how much i love ushijima, reblogs always appreciated! bye love u bye!!!

[ptergwen]

Hey! I was wondering if you could do a fluffy type thing based on the gif of ur navigation page. Ya know the scene in the movie where he can see whos doing what on their phones? and maybe the reader is like talking about their crush on him? i think tht woukd be a rly cool concept. but you dont have to do it if you dont want to :)

this is really cute omg i never would’ve thought of it either :,)

i couldn’t find the gif in question but close enough

“i have access to the entire stark global security network, including multiple defense satellites,” edith tells peter as he looks around the bus through his glasses. “as well as back doors to all major telecommunication networks,” she adds on. peter’s eyes go wider, images of his classmates’ and teachers’ phones popping up.

“woah,” he mumbles to himself. he can see people’s texts, google searches, everything. peter can’t help but be curious about what you’re up to. you’re sitting alone and kind of hunched over in your seat, so he assumes your phone is out. that gives him an idea.

“um, edith?” peter asks for his new... friend. she responds almost immediately. “yes, peter?” “what’s y/n doing?” your picture, name, and a view of your screen show up in his glasses. “i can’t believe that worked” he mutters and glances over at you again in person. you sit a few rows ahead of him.

he’d wanted to sit with you for the ride, but dimitri wouldn’t let him. something about blowing his cover.

peter focuses in on your screen again. you’re texting mj, in long paragraphs, and her messages back are just as lengthy. it seems like it’s a pretty personal conversation. maybe he shouldn’t be snooping on you. “edith, could you-“ his heart beats a little faster when he sees his name come up. he’s technically not snooping if it’s about him.

“yes, peter?” edith prompts him. “never mind,” he dismisses her, wanting to find out why he was mentioned. he sneaks a quick peek at mj to make sure she hasn’t caught on. she has a habit of always being in his business. she’s across the bus with brad next to her, so she hasn’t picked up on the fact that peter is watching you two.

chewing on your bottom lip, you type out your next message. peter jumps in his seat as it flashes across the screen.

you

i really like him and i thought he liked me too but he’s been kind of like... idk avoiding me the whole trip?

“i’m not avoiding her!” peter whisper yells, biting the inside of his cheek while he waits for mj to reply. it then hits him what you said in the first part. you like him. not just like him, really like him. he could pass out right now and call this a dream. he’s been crushing on you for a while, but he was too scared to say something. this is definitely a confidence booster.

mj

wdym avoiding you? he’s been ditching the whole class y/n/n. kinda sus if u ask me

you

stopppp 😭 maybe he has something going on bc he’s been weird since before we left

mj

uh he’s been weird his whole life

peter purses his lips at that, eyebrows furrowed in offense. he can’t believe nick fury is ruining his love life. or, the potential of him having a love life. you could’ve been cuddled up next to him and listening to music together right now. he’d made a playlist for the trip of both your favorite songs, that specific reason being why.

but, no. nothing that isn’t superhero related can ever go peter’s way. he’s had enough of fury and his team controlling him.

you

i don’t wanna get dramatic or whatever but should i just give up? if peter is busy i don’t wanna overwhelm him

“thanks, edith. you can stop showing me now,” peter decides, getting up from his seat before he loses his nerve to. he makes his way through the aisle and over to you. “i said all kids stay seated!” dimitri scolds him with a stern look through the front mirror. he doesn’t actually care if people get up, he just wants to keep peter away from everyone else. good thing he’s the one driving so he can’t do anything about it.

“sorry!” peter calls back, making you look up from your phone. giving him a lopsided smile, you quickly shut it off. you didn’t expect him to be the rule breaker getting yelled at. “hey,” you greet him. “hey. can i sit with you?” peter smiles back, without the nervousness. he already knows your feelings are mutual.

you scoot closer to the window so there’s more room. “yeah, always.” “thanks,” he breathes out a laugh and takes his seat. “i like your glasses. when did you get those?” you compliment, loving the way the blue frames sit on his face. peter squints at you. “glasses? what glasses- oh.” he’d forgotten to take them off before coming over. great, now he needs an excuse.

“they... they, um, at this store in venice...” that’s all he can come up with. you’re guessing the glasses have something to do with his stress lately, and you’re not far off. you let him leave it at that. “well, they look really good on you. really really good,” you laugh and get a laugh of relief out of peter as well. “thank you, y/n/n.” “you’re welcome.” you’re grinning for real now, and being the cause of it makes peter so happy.

he’s ready to shoot his shot.

“do you wanna, um, listen to music with me?” peter asks softly over the loud rumbling of the bus. “i made a playlist... for us.” for us. him coming over here, thinking of you like that, the doubts you were having earlier are starting to fade away. you nod, a giggle slipping out of you. “yeah, we can share my earbuds. thanks, peter.”

you unzip your backpack and grab them, peter biting back another grin. this is working out exactly how he wanted it to. you hold out an earbud to him and put yours in. peter does the same, adjusting his while both of you move in so the wire doesn’t stretch. yup, that’s why. definitely not so you two can be closer.

“can i plug these in?” peter asks, taking the connecting end of the wire. “mhm,” you hum and watch him put it into his phone. he opens up spotify and goes to his playlist, titled with a smiley face and every pink heart emoji. that brings yet another smile to your face. “aw, that’s cute,” you comment, taking a leap of faith and resting your head on peter’s shoulder.

peter hits shuffle and makes a move of his own by resting his head on yours. he lowers the music a bit so he can say something to you, confess to you what he finally has the courage to you. “hey, y/n?” he mumbles, waiting for you to look at him. you already were. “i like you.” you settle into peter even more and let out a content sigh. “i like you, too.”

[realcube]

hi bestie bokuto and saiki anon is back with another request,, idk what to call myself bc i love ur blog and love requesting random hcs to you bc i love your writing sm :( anyways i was wondering if you could do hcs where bokuto’s and saiki’s s/o just got acrylics and they try gently scraping their long nails they recently got against their scalp/thru hair and along their back? 🧍 ily

GIVING HIM A MASSAGE 

characters ♡ (multi-fandom) bokuto, sakusa, daichi & saiki k 

tw ♡ fluff, gn!reader, reader wears aryclics. mentions of death, timeskip! sakusa (suggestive) & mentions of spiders

a/n ♡ AAAA you came just in time!! i’m changing my tags :)) would you like to be 🔮lovely or 🦉lovely??? (crystal ball represents saiki and the owl is bokuto-) unless you have another emoji in mind!

KŌTARŌ BOKUTO had a deal with you; he’d pay for your nails in exchange for a massage and kisses. the kisses had been delivered already and he sat on the carpeted floor in front of the couch — where he’d usually sit while you massaged him so y’all could watch a show on the tv while you worked — with an expectant expression, making grabby hands at you as soon as you entered the living room. you cocked a brow, about to play dumb but you didn’t even get the chance as he began to chant, “relaxing time! show me what those pretty nails can do.” wow, couldn’t he be a little bit more stubborn? you sighed, approaching the couch and swinging your leg around his shoulder to take you usual seat behind him, “it’s not the nails, bo. it’s my fingers that do the work.” his lips parted to form a small ‘o’ shape as he fumbled with the remote to put on the show you guys have been watching, “really? maybe i should start paying for your nail removal, then. if i did, would you give me another mas--” “no.” bokuto let out a dramatic sigh of defeat, at least he tried. then, a small smile tugged on the corner of his lips as your fingers laced through his hair, pads of your fingers rubbing his scalp in such a way that made him hum in pleasure.. 

(minors dni) KIYOOMI SAKUSA was tense and refused to get a massage from a professional masseuse because he didn’t want to strip and have a stranger touch his body so intimately; the mere idea grossed him out. however, the knots in his back weren’t going to be fixed by even more over-exertion and poor posture, hence you took it upon yourself to help him.. after you got your nails done, of course. so as soon as he came back from practise and entered him bedroom, he was greeted by you standing next to your shared bed with an intimidating expression, “take off your clothes.” you commanded, gesturing to the bed. happily obliging, sakusa tossed his clothes into the laundry basket and was about to pull you into a heated kiss but immediately frowned when you swerved his advances and pushed him face-first onto the mattress. then, you began to run your cold fingers up his flushed back, rubbing deep circles into his skin which resulted in involuntary sighs of satisfaction escaping his lips. despite the fact this wasn’t the stress relief he was expecting, it was much better than he could imagined — it was as though he had ascended. however, he was so lost in the pleasing feeling of your cool nails tickling his skin, he hardly noticed how rough you were being and this was only brought to his attention the following day when atsumu’s nosy-ass inquired about the marks on sakusa’s back in the changing room, accompanied by a comment that made kiyoomi scowl. 

SAWAMURA DAICHI smiled as you showed him your nails with such enthusiasm, “they look beautiful, (y/n).” your experience at the nail bar was all you had been talking about since you arrived at his house — which was only like three minutes ago — and honestly, he wasn’t opposed, he loved hearing you talk so passionately about something.  he parted his lips to inquire about the price but before he could utter a single word, you stepped behind, kneading his broad shoulders with your palm which resulted in a shiver running down his spine, “what are you doing?” he chuckled, crouching slightly so he didn’t have to arch his back for you to reach. “tryin’ to give you a massage, does it feel alright?” you replied, chopping across his back with the side of your hand like the masseuses in movies do. “yeah.” there was no uncertainty in voice — that you could pick up on, at least — which brought a small smile to your face. your pointy nails dragged along his back, absentmindedly drawing letter and symbols that you thought daichi wouldn’t pick up on as he laxed expression and low murmurs of satisfaction suggested he was too engrossed in the feeling to notice, but you were proven wrong as you finished tracing ‘i ❤ u’ onto his skin. you were only snapped out of your thoughts when your boyfriend let out a hearty chuckle, “i love you too.”

KUSUO SAIKI was on defence. being a psychic who’s powers rivalled those of god, he never would’ve thought that he would be caught out by confidant — who was also his romantic partner — and a set of devilish claws. to think, he was originally foolish enough to think of them as pretty since they were complementing colors and nice shapes. plus, he had no reason to believe they were dangerous. until you began sneaking up behind them and using your nimble fingers to mimic the movement of an insect on his back. the first time you pranked him, he almost energy blasted you straight to hell. fortunately for him, you took the hint and felt extremely bad for taking advantage of his fears like that, offering to give him a massage as an apology. despite the fact he made it painfully apparent that he didn’t want to be near you until you got those wicked talons removed, here he was; sitting crossed-legged with his head rested between your thighs as you gently ran your hands through his hair, down his neck and across his shoulders. and the worst part was, he was actually enjoying it! the feeling of your finger working expertly at every knot in his neck and lifting what felt like the world’s weight of his shoulders left him helplessly melting into your touch. plus, his previous concerns about your hands in his hair were proven irrelevant as you make it a point to be extra careful around his clips. “thank you, (y/n).” he hummed, voice muffled slightly as his cheek was pressed against your thigh. “and sorry for almost killing you earlier.”

[hi1234456]

This Time | Tomioka Giyuu x Gender Neutral Reader

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Description: Giyuu lost you in his past life, but he’s determined not to let you go this time.

Reader Gender: Gender Neutral

Warnings: SPOILERS!!! (Spoilers from the KNY manga), Mentions of violence, death, cussing

Universe: Canon-verse (Although non-canon events occur) Also reincarnation AU (When you meet your soulmate from your past life, you regain some of your memories with them)

Requests: Open!!!

Author’s note: I just realized that the concept I tried to do is confusing- So basically, if you get reincarnated and meet your soulmate from your past life, you regain some of the memories you guys had with each other.

Giyuu had always been in love with you. After meeting you, he immediately became a victim to the hands of love. Your smile, your laugh, your personality, just everything about you was amazing to him.

He always felt a sense of euphoria when he was around you, and he always found his mind wandering back to you when the two of you were apart.

“I love them?” Giyuu asked, turning to face his fellow pillars Mitsuri and Tengen.

“I mean, from what you’ve said about them...” Mitsuri took a second to swallow the dango she was eating. “Yes, it really does seem like you’re in love with them!”

“Are you sure about that? Me being in love with...” Giyuu turned towards your direction.

Giyuu’s gaze softened when his eyes landed on your smiling face. You had been picking random cloves from the grass, and had finally found a four leaf clover, which excited you.

“Man! Look at the way you’re looking at them too!” Tengen groaned, rubbing his head. “And you say you’re not in love with them. Obvious bullshit.”

Mitsuri just giggled while Giyuu looked a Tengen, astounded.

“In love...?” Giyuu asked, raising a hand to his own blushing cheeks.

He always knew that he felt a special feeling around them, but love? Was it really that?

“I mean, if aren’t gonna believe us, it’s ok,” Tengen said, giving Giyuu a small smirk. “But we’re just saying that you most likely are in love with Y/N.”

Tengen got up from the bench he was sitting on, and waved at Giyuu.

“I gotta get going now, so bye.”

“You’ll be able to figure out those feelings Giyuu!” Mitsuri said, giving him a smile before following Tengen, leaving a confused Giyuu and his thoughts behind at the dango store.

Giyuu then glanced at you again, only to have his gaze met by yours, which startled him. You smiled before running towards Giyuu.

“Giyuu! Hello!”

“Oh... Hi.”

“I saw you talking with Mitsuri and Tengen! What were you guys talking about?”

“O-oh, nothing,” Giyuu gave you a small smile, trying to brush off his awkwardness. “What were you doing?”

“Oh, I was looking for a four leaf clover! There’s a wish I have, and I’m hoping that the four leaf clover brings me enough luck to make it come true.”

“Hm? What is it?”

“It’s a secret! Just kidding, I’ll tell you. I’m hoping for my next quest to go well.”

“You’re an excellent demon slayer though, Y/N, and you’ve never seemed so nervous about a quest? Did something happen?”

“Ah, there’s this gut feeling I have that...” You looked at the ground for a second before regaining your eye contact with Giyuu. “That something bad is going to happen. But it should be fine! It’s probably just a dumb thought!”

Although you just laughed it off like it was nothing, Giyuu couldn’t help but become worried. What if something bad really did happen to you? What if you ended up getting heavily injured? What if you even died?

“Giyuu, I’ve got to get going, unfortunately. I have to set off for my mission,” You gave him a small smile before turning around. “Goodbye!”

“Wait!” Giyuu’s hand suddenly latched onto one of your hands, startling you.

“Hm? Is there something wrong?” You ask him.

“I...”

“You...?”

“U-uh, I... I hope your mission goes well.”

You give him a warm smile before saying, “Thank you. I must get going now. Goodbye!”

He watched your figure disappear more and more into the distance. He couldn’t help but feel more and more anxious as you got farther and farther away. He now couldn’t shake the feeling that he too, feels like something bad is going to happen to you.

And something did happen.

“Y/N is dead, Giyuu.” Tanjiro said, showing up at the doorsteps of Giyuu’s mansion.

“Wh-what?”

“They’re dead...” He managed to choke out.

So it really was true. Giyuu had heard about it from his crow moments ago, but he refused to believe it. He thought it was some sort of mix-up, and that you weren’t truly dead.

“I’m s-so sorry,” Tanjiro choked out, tears falling from his eyes. “I wasn’t able to protect them. This is all my fault.”

“Don’t blame yourself Tanjiro,” Giyuu patted Tanjiro’s back lightly. “Y/N wouldn’t have wanted you to.”

Tanjiro managed to look at Giyuu one more time, trying to give him a small smile before he left Giyuu’s mansion.

As soon as Tanjiro left, Giyuu immediately shut the door and broke down on the floor.

Why?

Why didn’t he tell you that he loved you that day?

Why was he such a coward?

Negative and regretful thoughts clouded Giyuu’s head as he continued to sob about your passing.

He never got to tell you how much he loved your smile, your hair, just everything about you. He would never be able to express his feelings for you because you were gone.

There wasn’t a single day after that where Giyuu didn’t regret not expressing his feelings for you. Every single day, he always wondered if anything would’ve been different if he had just told you his feelings for you, or if he had stopped you from going on that mission.

He even thought about that until his last breath.

Giyuu was sent on a mission to exterminate a group of demons, nothing that was supposed to be too hard for him. However, there wasn’t supposed to be an upper-rank moon there. He had tried to kill it, but it had overpowered him and sent him to his death.

As Giyuu laid on the ground with a large wound stretching from his chest to his stomach, his mind wandered back to those unsaid words.

“Please...” Giyuu whispered, his eyesight getting hazier and hazier with every passing second. “Please let me tell Y/N that I love them in my next life.”

And with that, Giyuu had taken his last breath.

Time skip... (After all the demons were slain)

Giyuu waddled out of the bakery happily with his freshly baked raisin bread. He had always loved the Kamado Bakery’s raisin bread, and always woke up at 6:30 on Saturdays to get the freshly baked ones.

Giyuu sat on a park bench and started munching on one of the loaves of raisin bread. He smiled to himself.

“Nothing beats the raisin bread at the Kamado bakery.” He said quietly, taking another bite of the bread.

“Actually, I’d personally have to disagree with that.”

Giyuu turned towards the side of him to find a figure leaning on a tree, observing Giyuu.

“Who even are you?”

“Oh, I’m Y/N! Sorry for interrupting your eating time! I just wanted to say that I think their yakisoba bread is better. I mean have you tried that stuff? It’s so freaki-”

At that moment, you and Giyuu both felt a painful throb in your heads, and memories came rushing back to you both. Memories of your past life as demon slayers.

“Giyuu?! Wait, you- you’re...” You paused for a second, before exclaiming. “You’re Tomioka Giyuu?!”

Giyuu didn’t say anything, he just simply pulled you in for a hug, not caring if he had dropped his raisin bread.

“I missed you so much Y/N...” Giyuu muttered, his head buried into your shoulder. “And I’m so sorry that I couldn’t tell you this earlier.”

“Tell me what earlier?”

“I’m so sorry that I couldn’t tell you that I loved you...” Giyuu drew his head back and looked you in the eye, giving you a small smile. “So I’ll tell you now. I’ve loved you ever since we both joined the corps together, and I’m so sorry that I didn’t tell you I loved you that day. If I could go back to tell you, I would. But since I can’t, I’ll tell you now. This time, I won’t chicken out like last time. Y/N, I have always loved you, and I always will.”

[nctsjiho]

No Chance

warnings: none

era: 2020, MAW promotion era

❀ Protective Jaehyun just knows when someone is up to no good

“Could I maybe take you out on a date?” JiHo’s quirked her brow at the sudden question. She was flipping through the photobook of the album she had just received and wasn’t quite sure if what she just heard was real. “Hmm?” She hummed questioningly, urging for the person in front of her to repeat his words.

Noticing JiHo’s expecting gaze the boy lowered his head and raised his hand to scratch the back of his neck. “I mean… It’s just that I really admire you, sunbaenim. So I wondered if maybe we could get something to eat sometime.” He stuttered through his words. “Oh! And I also think you’re very pretty…” The nervous boy added quickly.

Not once did JiHo expect a confession when a newly debuted boy group entered the dressing room of NCT U – JiHo was just visiting ‘Make A Wish’ team during their promotions – to introduce themselves and hand them their first album. Jaehyun had nudged her shoulder when he noticed the, what he called, ‘longing’ stares of some of the rookies when JiHo had complimented their outfits and cheered them on with a friendly – Jaehyun would say ‘too friendly’ – smile. The older boy had told her that even though the new group looked very tired, JiHo couldn’t just be super nice and inviting towards everyone to which JiHo retorted: “I never knew ‘You got this guys!’ was being too nice”.

Now, after hearing the new idol’s unexpected confession JiHo thought back to Jaehyun’s warning, but she still didn’t regret being nice towards the group. After all they did just debut in a pandemic and knowing they were from a very small company she wasn’t too sure about their future. She wished them the best, but the group even told her they weren’t sure if they were going to be able to perform on many other music shows. This time was their first and mayhap their last.

JiHo watched as the rookie idol shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I’m sorry, you seem like a cool guy, but that doesn’t sound like a good idea.” A sympathetic smile proceeded to form on JiHo’s face. What JiHo didn’t expect was for the boy to try his luck once more. “Maybe if we get to know each other better? We could exchange phone numbers.”

He had already grabbled at his back pocket for his phone but when he looked back at the girl he was met with a raised hand, palm facing him. “Listen, I don’t really want to date anyone either-“ “I’m sorry, we could just get to know each other as friends. You know, I’d also like that. Just friends-“ JiHo’s earlier sympathetic smile faded as she now felt bad for the guy and also slightly put off by him.

The guy stopped talking and JiHo took it as if he finally got the hint and decided to back off. He took a step back, distancing himself from the girl – which was when JiHo noticed how close he had gotten to her – and then bowed in apology. “I’m sorry sunbae, that was completely out off line. I hope you can forgive me.” JiHo shook her head. “It’s okay, let’s just forget about it.” The boy nodded, his eyes seemed to twitch and he then excused himself out of the room.

A deep sigh left JiHo’s lips and she turned her head to her left. “You didn’t have to scare him away, I’m sure he would’ve left any second now.” JiHo explained and let herself fall on the couch, her eyes fell on the album next to her. “How did you know I was here?” Jaehyun asked confused and then joined JiHo on the couch. “That poor boy’s eyes filled with fear, I saw how his eyes were shaking.”

It was silent for a second before Jaehyun started talking. “He wasn’t going to leave by the way. He was so insistent on getting you to agree with him on, well, anything. So you should thank me.” A sarcastic chuckle left JiHo’s lips at the words. “And how would you know?” “Guys can be real creeps. You don’t know how many we have dealt with for you without you knowing. I can recognise them anywhere.”

JiHo sat up in her seat, eyes wider than Jaehyun had ever seen before as she now looked at him. “What? Why didn’t I know about this? When? Where did this happen? How many times? How-“ “Okay JiHo! Calm down first.” Jaehyun and JiHo both turn to the door where they see Taeyong walking in followed by Jaemin and Xiaojun, the other boys entering a few seconds afterwards.

“So it’s true?” Taeyong sighed and walked up to her. “Well, yeah. You’re a girl and have a lot of male fans, that stuff happens. And even though I think it would’ve been better if Jaehyun didn’t tell you about this.” He glared at the younger boy, who, rightfully so, looked a bit flustered. “You know now, but you don’t have to worry about it, the managers, the staff and if necessary, we, the boys, will make sure nothing happens to you and you won’t even know of the existents of those creeps.”

JiHo scoffed in disbelief. “Make sure nothing happens? What are you even talking about? Who’s trying to do what to me?” Jaehyun grabs JiHo by the shoulder. “Nothing. No one is doing anything to you. Just- Just trust me when I say that rookie idol is no good.” JiHo couldn’t wrap her mind around what had been said, but rather than asking more questions – she didn’t even know where to start if she did – she just accepted what her two friends said and let herself fall back on the couch.

“What’s this?” The newest Japanese member, Shotaro, held up a piece of paper he retrieved from the album he noticed placed on the couch. JiHo grabbed it and analysed what was written on it. On it she saw a phone number along with a name. “I hope we can get close in the future” Was scribbled on the other side of the paper.

Jaehyun snatched the piece of paper out of the girl’s hand when he caught sight of the poorly drawn heart on the note. He scoffed before ripping the paper apart. “If someone is going to even try dating you, he should at least be able to draw a simple heart.” JiHo watched the boy slack-jawed. Jaehyun reached his hand out, finger placed on the underside of the girl’s chin and he pushed it up to close her mouth. “And his handwriting sucks. This loser can’t actually think he even has a chance with you.”

---

Side note: I have no clue if there was a rookie group that promoted along side NCT U during MAW era, if so, that’s not the same group as the one mentioned in this writing. This group is completely made up (you might have noticed I also didn’t mention any names) and has absolutely no connection with a real kpop group. The same goes for the rookie idol, he’s completely made up and has no connection to any idol in the real world.

[haikyuucute]

Hi!! I have been following your work and I know you are into omegaverse... Would It be possible to request an omegaverse with an oikawa or ushijima alpha's in which one of their fans make his omega believe that he has marked her too? So the Omega has her heart crushed and confronts them about It in anger but It the end he manages to find up what happened therefore making up with the omega in a smut way? Only if u feel confy with it please! And inspired! Manu many thanks un advance if u take it!

Warning: Smut, mirror sex, choking, little bit of angst

yoyoyoyo I just wanna say I LOVE this request!!

Anywho~

I decided to go with flat ass Oikawa

BASICALLY it was inevitable that his fan club would come to hate you when they first found out you two had a thing going on

You knew this

He knew this

So you both took it in stride when you received glares from jealous omegas whenever they saw you two together or when they smelled his scent all over you

But the real issues started arising the day Oikawa claimed you

It was one thing when he was just marking you through his scent, it wasn’t the first time he had had a girlfriend after all

So everyone naturally thought that you’d both eventually break up

but when they spotted a bond mark peeking out from under your collar

that was it

you had basically taken Oikawa off the market

Forever

So now those omegas REALLY couldn’t stand you

And there was a certain friend group that really just wanted to hurt you and make you regret letting Oikawa claim you

One of the omegas had left you a letter, asking to speak with you after school on the roof

And so you went

But the minute you stepped onto the roof and spotted the girl you immediately regretted it since you knew she practically lead Oikawa’s fan club and as a result despised you the most

But before you could leave she had spotted you and got right to the point

“Do you think you’re special?” “... W-what?” “Do you think you’re special because Oikawa-kun claimed you?” “I d-don’t—“ “Because you’re not— see-“

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion when she pulled down the collar of her uniform to reveal a bond mark, but what she said next had you stomach dropping to the pit of your stomach

”Oikawa claimed me too, so you’re not as special as you think”

You were immediately filled with shock, horror, and betrayal

She had to be lying but at the same time your judgement was too clouded by this sudden claim to think clearly

And if she was telling the truth, then that had meant Oikawa would probably leave you too, not caring that you’d be forever marked by him

You attempted to argue with her, but she completely shut you down and in a flurry of emotions, completely blinded by this supposed betrayal, you searched for him

You found him in the gym as his practice was about to start

Your distressed scent hit him before he actually saw you, immediately being filled with worry, especially when his eyes landed on you and he saw how angry and upset you were and on the verge of crying

You completely blew up at him right then and there in front of his whole team

You claimed that he was an asshole for not telling you about that other omega he claimed, especially since he had claimed you

Overall you had left him vv confused and his teammates shocked, wondering if this revelation was true or not— and if it was, the third years were already planning on how they’d get away with murdering Oikawa for hurting you like that

But once you finally mentioned this omega’s name everything suddenly clicked together and he understood what had happened

And quite honestly he was pretty insulted that you ever believed something like that

You must’ve not thought much of him as an alpha if you believed he’d claim another omega, leave them, and not tell you about it

Not to mention the insinuation that he would’ve done the same thing to you

Oh— and not to mention the little fact you practically humiliated him in front of his team

When his eyes darkened you immediately shut up

And with that simple look, you realized how wrong you were

So now, Oikawa would have to prove himself as an Alpha

And that meant a very long and drawn out punishment for you~

“Keep your eyes open, Omega,” Oikawa growled against your ear, hand tightening around your throat.

You wrenched your eyelids open, immediately coming face to face with yours and Oikawa’s reflection in the mirror in front of you.

You were a mess, your back to his chest as your sweaty figure trembled in his arms while he thrust up into you. The sight of his cock disappearing in your cunt upon every thrust, left you dizzy and lightheaded.

But he had a point to make, and if he had to show you in the most literal way that you were his only omega, then he would.

The hand on your throat slid up to grasp your jaw and tilt your head to the side, placing your bond mark on full display.

”Are you embarrassed by the little show you put on this afternoon?” Oikawa taunted, voice taking on a more airy tone, “Hm Omega? Or did you like making your Alpha look bad in front of his teammates?”

”N-no Alpha— m’ s-sorry,” you managed to choke out with a sob, nearing the verge of incoherency.

He hummed, continuing his slow and torturous pace as he watched your reflection. Your hooded eyelids trying to resist falling closed, his eyes lingered on your heaving chest and he relished in the sounds of your whimpering cries. The pretty sight was topped off by the sight of his mark left on your neck, making a wave of possession wash through him as he tightened his grip on you.

It made him question how you could possibly think he’d waste his time by having marked another omega. No other omega could compare to the one in his arms.

He sped up his thrusts, forcing more high pitched cries from your lips and a low groan to emit from his throat.

“Y’know... ‘m insulted ‘Mega,” Oikawa panted out, the soft, velety walls of your cunt driving him insane, “That you think... I’d waste my time with any omega that walked my way.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you still fought the urge to shut your eyes, and the dark look you found lingering behind Oikawa’s eyes made you nervous— but it was hard to feel stupid over the misunderstanding like you had been earlier when your mind was completely consumed by a hazy lust.

But you knew it was wrong to question Oikawa like you had.

”’M sorry,” you tried again in a broken sob, “I didn’t m-mean it—“

”Quiet,” he snapped, his eyes glued to your still healing bond mark— he knew what he needed to do to drive the fact that you were his one and only. His voice dropped to a rumble, “...Put more trust in your Alpha, Omega.”

With that he had sunk his teeth into the still healing wound, ripping a loud cry from your throat.

But he knew once it scarred over, you’d never question his loyalties again.

—

Taglist:

@shiguraaa @tycrackculture @kynyta @cuddlesslut @baeshijima @yams046 @cutepet09 @kkimoka @elegant-gypsophilia @mrkoala4prsdnt @sapphy-taffy6969 @yougivemebutterfliess @melanieacademy @yeet-these-hoez @nekomasmeow @thirsthourdemon @nekoma-hoe @curiouslilbeast @badboysdoitbetter2 @nervousenergyy @coupsieddori @mizuchan24-blog @ly-nia @mer92 @voids-universe @savemesteeb @bokurotrash @basicallyberry @cherryonigiri @k-eijiakaashi @ethylalcoholforfandoms @sanemisthiccbih @a-book-lover-things @rue-was-here @prod983 @reject-tinkerbell @emotionalfangirl2002 @kawaiipotatochan @alienatian-blog @mortifiedmoon @amirahroronoa @wholeasswhore @asahi-is-jesus-periodt @fake-id-69 @kkoalaworld @hithisismina @lilidrawz @hatanaka-shiori @royalmuffinsworld

[biisexualemma]

blood. klaus mikaelson

word count: 2159

warnings: mention of blood and tiny bit of swearing

requested: nope

plot: you and klaus butt heads until you.. don’t

a/n: this has been sitting around for ages, i wrote it months and months ago but i really like it and hopefully you do to! i have so many imagines already written (for everyone except oscar i’m afraid which is why the requests take so long) and waiting to be posted! so will probs be posting quite a bit for the time being. anyway, hope u enjoy!

masterlist

"oh," you stopped. your eyes followed from his head to his toes, you'd never seen so much blood. klaus stopped before he could bump into you. he wasn't expecting to see you before he'd cleaned himself up. his mouth opened as if he was going to say something, but nothing came out.

"hey," you mumbled, trying to ease any tension.

you hadn't seen klaus since you argued a couple hours ago. you were living with the mikaelson's while you were in town, you had known them for a pretty long time, they were always very accommodating whenever you needed it. you first met in mystic falls when you were young, and caught up with the salvatores. klaus had taken a liking to you, and you became fast friends despite his gruesome reputation.

but since he uprooted his family to new orleans, you didn't see him as much as you wanted to.

you'd been arguing about nothing. you'd be out late the night before with kol drinking, and you had an unfortunate encounter with another vampire. kol handled of course, but not before you received some bumps and bruises. but you were fine, you didn't think it was a big enough deal to tell klaus. but he did, apparently. he was pretty mad at you when you tried to argue it was none of his business whether you were safe or not. and klaus stormed out and you hadn't seen him since.

you knew klaus liked to let off a little steam, but he looked like he'd been up to much worse.

he didn't look so angry anymore, he looked tired.

"is—is that your blood?" your head tilted slightly. you almost wanted it to be his blood, because you certainly didn't want it to be anyone else's. you weren't scared of klaus, he'd never done anything to warrant you being scared of him. you'd heard stories, mainly from damon and stefan, but you never really paid attention. klaus was nice to you, so it didn't matter to you how he used to behave.

klaus glanced down at his hands, soaked in blood, along with his shirt and his neck and his face. "no," he gulped. "this happens to be the blood of your enemies."

your furrowed your brows. "my enemies? i don't think i have any enemies."

"that man," klaus spoke again. "the one that tried to harm you just last night. he was a part of a bigger group, preying on drunk, human girls. i took care of them."

your mouth hung open slightly. klaus looked away, he couldn't bear another argument with you about his murderous tendencies or his uncontrollable temper. he was sick of you looking at him like that, like he had two heads.

"oh," you were confused. klaus was mad at you the last time you saw him, and now he comes home telling you he's taken care of your enemies. "uh— i guess they deserved what they got."

klaus nodded. "if you don't mind, love, i'm going to clean myself up," he motioned to move past you, and you stepped out of his way, your mind was all over the place.

"wait," you grabbed his hand before he walked away. you quickly pulled away when he turned around, noticing the blood transferred now onto your fingers. you always hated the smell of blood. you pushed the thought aside. "are you still mad at me?"

he furrowed his brows. "no," he shook his head. "it wasn't your fault. those men were pigs."

you nodded, recalling what had occurred with the man the night before. you'd only lost kol for a split second. "right," you felt a twinge where the cut on your temple lay, your mind wandered. klaus noticed your lack of concentration.

"i was mad at myself," he admitted. his eyes were locked on you, boring into you. "i try to keep you safe. and you got hurt."

you shook your head, adjusting your attention to klaus's face again. "you weren't to know," you shrugged. you noticed klaus's eyes drifting from your eyes, to the cut on your forehead. you lifted your hand and touched the sore, scrunching up your nose a little. "it's not even that bad," you shrugged. klaus wasn't comforted by any of this though. "kol found me before things got too messed up."

"my stupid little brother should never have left your side," klaus snapped.

"klaus, come on," you pleaded. you couldn't get into this with him again. you couldn't handle him when he was angry, he was unreasonable. "if it wasn't for your stupid little brother i'd probably be dead in an alleyway somewhere—"

"enough," he stopped you.

"i'm just saying," you sighed, getting nowhere once again with klaus. he was so stubborn and angry all the time. "maybe you should just go take a shower."

his jaw clenched, taking one last look at you before turning away again and heading to take a shower as you suggested.

—

you knocked gently. "hey," pushing the door open that led to his bedroom, you saw him sat in his armchair, a drink in his hand. "sorry to interrupt."

he shook his head. "you're not," he gulped what was left in his glass, before standing to meet you at his door. "what?" he frowned when you looked down at your feet. "what's wrong?"

"nothing," you shook your head quickly after hearing the urgency in his voice. you ran your fingers through your hair, pulling at the ends like you did when you were uncomfortable. "i just wanted to apologise."

"apologise?" he repeated. "to me?"

"yes— obviously to you," your eyes met with his. he looked calmer than he had done in a while. you sighed. "i was being rude earlier, and i never thanked you for looking out for me."

klaus glanced away for a second. "you don't need to explain yourself to me."

"i know. but still," you shrugged. "i'm sorry."

he paused before he answered again. "don't be. we both spoke without thinking."

you nodded. you wanted to tell him. you weren't sure whether it was the way he was looking at you, or how he'd behaved in the past twenty four hours, or if it was just you overthinking again. you opened your mouth to speak but thought against it. you didn't want to open a can of worms. if klaus wanted to cross that bridge with you, you were sure he would've done it already.

"ok," you mumbled instead of what you really wanted to say. you took a step back. "i'm gonna go now."

"you sure?" klaus wore a slight smile. he always knew when you were holding your tongue. but this time, it was better for the both of you if you held your tongue. "you sure you don't want to confess your undying love for me while we're at it?" he was joking, but it still caught you off guard. clearly your face showed it. "kidding, love."

you let out a strained bout of laughter, taking a couple steps further back so you could leave his room. "good one," was all you could think of to say. "see ya'," you turned to leave quickly before this got any more uncomfortable, but when you did, klaus was standing in front of you again. startled, you hit his chest. "i hate it when you speed around like that."

"what just happened?" he queried, his eyebrows furrowed with a small confused smile on his lips. you tried to walk around him but he stopped you. his hand touched your waist and you pulled away. he frowned.

"i don't wanna talk about it right now," you admitted.

"wait," he pleaded, standing in your way when you tried to move around him again. he really didn't understand half the things you did. he wanted you to be able to talk to him. "is this because of that joke?"

"leave it alone, klaus," you huffed.

of course you had feelings for him. it was impossible not to. but he definitely didn't need to know about it. you two were good as friends, and if he'd ever felt the same way towards you he surely would've said something before now. so there was no need to get into it with him. it would only mess things up.

"what? did you actually want to confess your undying love for me? it was a joke, love," he let out a short laugh, confused by the way you were acting so suddenly towards him. then the thought occurred to him. "oh."

"yeah," you looked away from him for a second, sighing when he backed up. he hadn't expected this from you. you knew he would react like this, which is exactly why you hadn't planned on telling him.

"oh," he repeated.

"hey," you frowned, shaking your head. "don't worry about it. i know you're a loner type and i also know you don't feel that way about me. so, don't worry," it killed you to say it but you knew it was true. you told yourself the same thing every time you felt yourself feel things for him. it was your way of talking yourself out of it. though it hadn't worked so far.

"wait— i—" it was the first time you'd actually seen klaus speechless. he really had no clue. "you fancy me?" he let out a choked laugh.

"alright," you scoffed. "no need to be mean about it," you really couldn't see what he was thinking. he looked like a mixture of emotions.

"no," he shook his head. "i always thought you indifferent," he wore a teasing smile on his lips now, one you'd seen many times before. "i always thought you had a thing for my little brother."

"kol?" you frowned, letting out a small laugh. "ew, no."

"interesting," he was trying to process it. you continued to wear a frown, you didn't know where he was going with any of this.

"i'm gonna go before you make fun of me anymore," you moved around him, but he grabbed your wrist before you got far. you groaned. "klaus, what? you've had your fun with it, but it's really just mean to tease me about it."

he shook his head with that same small smile. "i've always fancied you, love.”

your face softened, klaus melted watching you react to his words. your hands fell to your side. "don't tease me."

"i promise you, i'm not."

"what?" you stated, rather than questioning. you shook your head. it was your turn to be stunned now. you never expected this from him. you dreamt of him feeling this same, but you'd always convinced yourself he never would. "i never thought you'd feel the same. klaus, your the most self-isolating person i've ever met. you could've hinted something to me so i'd know."

"sorry," he snorted. "i thought murdering a group of men for bothering you was hint enough."

you opened your mouth but closed it again quickly. "yeah," you nodded. "i guess you're right. i just didn't see it."

"are we all up to speed now?" he checked. you smiled softly, nodding.

"i guess so," you didn't know how to act now.

"good. can i kiss you now?" you nodded, freezing once klaus wasted no time in stepping closer to you. his hands cupped your face, his lips pressing to yours. you gasped softly, your hands moving to his shirt, you fisted the material and pulled him closer to you, deepening the kiss. he backed you up until you hit a wall, his hands moving to either side of your head. you moaned softly, your hands moving to his shoulders, gripping them tight to hold yourself up.

finally you pulled away to catch a breath, klaus moving his lips to your neck, where he peppered you with kisses. your chest was moving up and down pretty fast, the smile on your face growing.

you ran your fingers through his hair. "i wish i'd slipped up sooner, holy shit," you laughed, his face moving back up to yours and kissing your lips once more sweetly.

he hummed contently, a smirk on his lips. you took him all in. "i could get used to this."

"you," his hands slipped onto your waist, pinning you against the wall. "are beautiful," his fingers slipping under your shirt, running across your skin. "i don't think i've met anyone who puts up with me quite like you do."

you laughed, rolling your eyes. "yeah, you're kind of a handful," he squeezed your sides, causing you to squeal. he laughed, enjoying this side of you so much more already.

"watch it," he teased.

"kidding," you muttered, you leaned forward slightly, your lips almost touching his. "i wouldn't have you any other way."

klaus was in disbelief that someone could be so perfect. you knew him inside and out and you were still completely here for him. he loved you for it.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

The Long Con Part Four

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part Pairing: Marcus Pike x Reader Rating: T Notes: I hope y’all had a good week! 💕 Warnings: Cursing; f l u f f; me pretending that I know literally anything about art history Summary: Marcus was by your side at nearly every turn, and you could see the nerves dropping off of him more and more. 

Walter Pike was as welcoming as the rest of Marcus’ family, though you found him to be a bit more quiet in comparison to Jill and Marnie. Dinner that evening was on the Pike’s raised back porch - nice and low key. The porch overlooked the sprawling backyard that Marcus and Marnie had spent their childhood zipping around and skinning their knees in. Despite your earlier nerves, you felt welcomed and unpressured. Marcus was by your side at nearly every turn, and you could see the nerves dropping off of him more and more. That was, until Marnie diverted the conversation from wedding prep yet to be done to how the two of you had met. 

“Work,” Marcus answered automatically, sounding just a little pleased with himself. “Right, you said that, but how?” Jill asked. Before Marcus could flounder, you jumped in: “I grew up around a lot of artists, and a lot of those artists...Recreated works, let’s say,” You said, casting Marcus a small, reassuring smile, “I’m a bit of a specialist when it comes to forgeries. The Bureau calls on me to ask for help every once in a while, when a piece looks a little too good to be true-- Someone turns up with a crate of freshly painted Seurats, that kinda thing,” The Pikes chuckled, “They have me come in, take a look, see if I recognize the techniques used.” “Was this the Rose--Thing case?” Jill asked. “Rosepoint,” Marcus corrected, “And yes, actually. A Vermeer turned up-- Or it seemed to have turned up.” “It was a fake?” Marnie asked. “Unfortunately,” You nodded, “It was one of the paintings stolen from the Isabella Gardner Museum back in ‘90 -- The Concert. It’s a beautiful piece. It was found during a-- Drug bust?” You looked to Marcus to confirm, and he nodded, “Well, sometimes goods like that are held or traded as collateral for product.” “How’d you know it was a fake?” Walter asked. “There’s a painting within the painting of The Procuress by Van Baburen, and within that painting, there’s a man. His eyes are supposed to be directed down and a little to the right, at someone else in the portrait, but they were peering out of the portrait-- at the viewer, essentially. Sort of the way the girl with the glass does in Renoir’s Luncheon of the Boating Party-- but the lighting in that portion of that painting is darker, it’s harder to read, and it’s not the focus. Anyway, I knew of a few people that would like to play...Pranks like that with their work, and would’ve been able to recreate that painting with that level of detail.” “Only two of them were in range at the time of the bust,” Marcus added, “One of them had the wrong types of materials anywhere in his workshop and trash-- we checked his credit card or bank statements going back years, and the other had… A workshop full of practice work on The Concert.” “I’m told that that’s what they call a ‘smoking gun’,” You teased, and Marcus grinned at you. “Her lectures are fascinating, too,” Marcus told his family softly, though he was watching you. That was one facet that the two of you hadn’t discussed, and you could tell from the ease with which he said it that he wasn’t lying. You gave him a sheepish smile before lowering your eyes. “Lectures?” Walter frowned. “Oh, I’m an art professor when I’m not using my X-Ray vision to fight crime,” You explained. “Did you ask her out immediately?” Marnie asked her brother knowingly. “Ah,” Marcus raised his free hand, rubbing at the back of my neck, “No, I...I took some time to get there. Well, you know when I got to D.C., Teresa and I were still together, and then parted ways. The Rosepoint case happened while I was undercover.” You felt Jill’s eyes dart toward you at the mention of Marcus’ ex-fiancé. You gave her a small smile and a nod, and she leaned back in her seat, relieved. You chuckled quietly. “I actually didn’t ask her out until a couple of months ago,” Marcus added, running his thumb over your knuckles, “After the Coleman case.” -- “Okay,” Marcus conceded with a sleepy mumble as he tugged his sleep shirt on, “You made a good point about running our story as many times as we did. That was...We were good.” “And we’re gonna keep being good, Marky,” You teased, reaching out and poking his nose. He chuckled softly, wrinkling his nose. “So, um…” He cleared his throat, “I have a few files that I brought with me, I figured I’d take ‘em downstairs and-- I’ll sleep down there. If anyone asks, I fell asleep down on the couch going over work, so we’re square,” He offered. Your brow furrowed as you watched Marcus stoop down and pull a couple of work files out of his bag. “...Oh,” You said after a moment. “Yeah. So I’ll see you in the morning.” “Okay. Night,” You smiled at Marcus as he left. Your smile wilted a little as he shut the door behind himself. You looked around his room, rubbing your hands over your arms. You still had to change into your pajamas, but you couldn’t stop yourself from looking around a bit first. The walls were a hunter green; two of the walls were lined with bookshelves that were crammed with books. There was a desk, and a reading chair by the window. Marcus had an ensuite bathroom as well, so you didn’t have to share with the rest of the family for the week. You sighed, glancing toward the door. You didn’t like the idea of Marcus sleeping on the couch. You weren’t sure if it was because he was uncomfortable, or because he was worried that you would be. You didn’t want to force the man out of his own bed. You glanced toward the full-size mattress. Maybe the two of you would’ve been...Close, but there was room enough for the both of you. -- You turned over for the umpteenth time, eyeing the digital clock. The menacing red numbers read 12:39. You groaned quietly, turning up to look at the ceiling. You groaned again, throwing the covers off. You opened the door and walked out of the room as quietly as you could, walking down the steps quietly. You could see Marcus laid out on the couch, under a blanket that -- really didn’t cover him. You crouched down beside him, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Hey,” You murmured, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. Marcus took a moment to rouse before he opened his eyes. “Hey,” he mumbled, voice thick with sleep, “You okay?” “Come upstairs,” You urged softly, “I don’t mind sharing ‘long as you don’t.” Marcus took a moment to process that before he asked, “Are you sure?” You smiled a little and straightened, holding a hand out to him. Marcus pushed the blanket off and took hold of your hand, letting you tug him off of the couch and lead him up the stairs. He shut the door behind you, and the two of you slipped under the covers, and you settled down, head heavy on the pillow, the warmth of Marcus nearby.

--

The cheery chorus of Pike, “Morning!”s are a little jarring, but you gave them a sleepy smile and a soft, “Good morning.” Their chatter filled back in easily as you headed for Marcus. 

It was almost stunning, how soft and sleep-ruffled Marcus looked, leaning back against the counter. But you’d hardly blinked the sleep out of your eyes. Maybe it was because you were still half-asleep, maybe the morning light seeping through the kitchen curtains behind him was skewing your view. 

“Hi there,” He greeted. 

“Hi,” You mumbled, looping your arms around his waist and resting your head on his shoulder. You had woken up alone, and hadn’t wanted to seem rude by lingering in bed for too long. You sighed, closing your eyes as Marcus’ arms curled around your shoulders. “I was gonna bring you some coffee,” He admitted, “You sleep alright?” 

“Mhm.”

“Still want that coffee?” 

“All of it. Coffee pot and a straw,” You mumbled. Marcus laughed softly, turning his head and brushing his lips across your forehead. 

“Fresh pot’s being brewed now,” He told you, “Soon as it’s set, I will hand it right to you.”

“And a straw?”

“And a straw.” 

“Bendy?”

“I’ll see what I can find.” 

“Mmkay,” You sighed, tipping your head up to look at him. You found Marcus smiling down at you. He nudged his nose against yours sweetly, and you felt your stomach flutter with anticipation. 

The two of you had talked about this a couple of times since you’d reassured Marcus that you were fine with physical affection, and with kissing. Once, when you’d been at dinner, you’d thought Marcus might give you a kiss - just to sort of break the ice. You’d never worked your way up to initiating it yourself. 

But now Marcus was looking at you from under his lashes, his eyes warm, calming. His lips were close, and tempting. Marcus’ eyes searched yours for a few moments before he dipped his head, dropping a chaste kiss to your lips. You tipped your chin up, slipping your lips against his. You felt your eyes close as Marcus’ hand slid down your shoulder to smooth over your back. Marcus tilted his head to the side, the kiss deepening slightly, unhurriedly, as he cuddled you closer to him. You curled your fingers in the fabric of his sleep shirt, sighing quietly. 

You hadn’t noticed that the kitchen had gone quiet behind you. You hadn’t even noticed how engrossed you’d become in Marcus’ touch until you heard the thud of Marnie’s mug being set down in the sink beside the two of you. You startled a little bit, leaning away from Marcus and ducking your head, embarrassed. 

“Hi, Marnie,” You muttered. 

“With a kiss like that, it’s a wonder I didn’t hear anything go ‘bump’ in the night,” She teased, glancing between you and Marcus. You smiled a little as Marcus groaned, turning his head from his sister and pressing his face against your head.

“How’s the Air Supply poster?” You retorted. Marnie grinned. 

“You know what, it actually fell last night. Scared the shit outta me. Coffee’s ready,” She tacked on before stepping away from the counter. You nodded, muttering your thanks as Marnie pushed away from the counter. You glanced up at Marcus and found him searching your face. He leaned in, murmuring against your temple, “Was that okay?” 

Was he kidding?

Then again, with what you knew of Marcus Pike, no. He was not. You nodded, leaning up and pecking his lips.

“More than,” You reassured softly, “Now where do you guys keep the bendy straws?” Tag list: @hufflepuffing-all-day-long ; @spideysimpossiblegirl ; @blueeyesatnight ; @elen-aranel ; @yespolkadotkitty ; @artsymaddie ; @phoenixhalliwell ; @lunaserenade ; @winniedaboo  ; @empress-palpat1ne ; @randomness501 ; @nutmeg-20 ; @leonieb ; @the-feckless-wonder ; @lou-la-lou ; @captain-jebi ; @supernaturalgirl ; @naturenebula21 ; @evelynseventyr ; @giselatropicana ; @heatherbel ; @marydjarin ; @annathewitch ; @absurdthirst​ ; @hnt-escape​ ; @writingletterstothefire​