#i’m doing the thing where i’m so annoyed at the title i put off clicking on it for an extended period of time

[danandfuckingjonlmao]

like shut the fuck up

[comicwritesstuff]

okay this is so incredibly specific so please feel free to ignore BUT i’ve been wanting to read a fic for ages where the reader is Chase’s childhood best friend from Australia and she moves to New Jersey for a fresh start. She’s staying with Chase while she gets settled, and one day she comes to visit him at lunch at the hospital, where she ends up meeting House and he’s… intrigued by her 👀 either romantic or smut would be so very cool :^D <33 💐

YES. I LOVE THIS PROMPT IM SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG BUT IM FINISHED!!!

Gregory House x Fem!Chases bsf!Reader

Warnings: None really, just cussing and tooth rotting fluff >:) 3k+ words.

Chase's POV: 

“Well I was just wondering if we could go out sometime, I think you're really-” My attention shifted as y/n's call lit up my phone, interrupting the conversation. It was a more pressing matter than pursuing a one-night stand.

“Excuse me for a moment.” I say walking away, the woman having an annoyed look on her face. 

I answer the phone.

“Hello, y/n? Whats up” 

“Chase! Long time no talk haha.”

“You called me yesterday.”

“Learn to take a joke, anyways, I have some exciting news for you.”

“I’m moving to New Jersey!!” 

“Wait what? Really?”

“Yeah, I kinda forgot to tell you and i'm actually at the airport right now, so I hope you aren't busy tomorrow so you can pick me up.”

“Wow, um alright, yeah I can pick you up, do you have a place to stay?"

“Um…no…” I sigh, “Just stay at mine for now.”

“Don't even with the sigh i’ve known you my whole life you can put the nightly hookups on hold for your best friend.” 

I smirk and shake my head, “Yeah yeah, I’ll see ya tomorrow y/n” 

Y/N’s POV:

I smile as I hang up with Chase, grabbing my luggage and pulling it along the airport. Ahh yes, crying babies, rushed parents, annoying couples and that one insanely attractive person you see for a split second, I love the airport. 

Glancing at my ticket I realize I might have to hurry to make it to the gate, speed walking I see a text from chase, “Have a safe flight.” Let's hope so. 

Time skip (to lazy to write all the details about fucking airports)

Relaxing on a 21-hour flight proved challenging, especially with a toddler nearby. It was unclear whether the toddler would be a source of annoyance or just be tolerable. The flight just started. So to entertain myself I decide to do some digging about Chase's job, he brags about it all the time and the infamous Dr Gregory House. To be honest I thought Chase was gay for a little while with how much he talks about him. Still speculating. 

The plane lifts off and I start my look, at first just looking up Gregory House, a surprising amount of things show up. An article titled, “Gregory House, Talented Doctor? Or a lying Narcissist?” Oh well that's a good first impression.   

Scrolling down I see another article, “The world's greatest doctor, and his deepest secrets” 

Now that's enticing. I click on it only to find out his deepest secrets, including using 3 in one shampoo and how his leg got hurt. I guess people hardly know anything about him. I click on the photos of him, there's only a couple, most of them blurry but to be honest he's pretty good looking from the photos I can see. I’d honestly be gay for him if I was Chase. 

The toddler next to me starts giggling, I glance at her and notice her staring at a picture of House. She's kicking her feet too. That's so relatable. 

For the rest of the flight I find some stuff about this guy named Taub, who somehow also figured out that he cheated on his wife which is why he had to quit. How did I find that out? I took a coding class in 8th grade. (I got lucky) 

Lisa Cuddy the Dean of Medicine, unfortunately only good stuff about her, boring. 

Remy Hadley, oddly, can't find anything on her. 

Eric Foreman, his brothers in jail, fun. 

And the others are just as boring. For the remainder of the flight, the toddler proved surprisingly chill. I passed the time by binge-watching random movies I had downloaded earlier

*Another time skip to plane landing* 

Finally, 21 hours on a fucking plane is horrible. 

I check my phone after I take it off airplane mode, seeing a text from chase a couple minutes ago. 

“I’m at the airport, is your flight done?”

“Yep, wya.”

“I’m parked in the front.”

“That's specific” 

“There's no other front dumbass”

I roll my eyes at his text, and get off the plane as soon as I can. I walk out and see Chase standing outside his car waiting for me. His eyes light up as he spots me, and a grin spreads across his face. Unable to resist, I rush forward and envelop him in a bear hug.

“Man you’re a lot uglier in person” 

I say jokingly, smirking.

“Oh shut up”  

We climbed into his car, and he drove us back to his apartment. When we arrive he helps get my crap into the house, before he gets a call saying he had to head to work. 

Eventually a week or two passes, I've gotten more comfortable in his apartment, applied for a bunch of jobs, and looked for places to stay so I’m not invading his “man” space anymore. Unfortunately there aren't a lot of options, and no jobs have replied to my applications, which is weird since im overqualified, it's almost like they aren’t even getting my applications in the first place. 

I’m doing the dishes when I get a text from Chase.

“Hey, I left my wallet on the counter, so I don’t have money for food, could ya bring it for me?” 

“Nah”

“See you soon”

I breathe out a laugh and grab his wallet, putting a coat on then driving to the hospital. 

When I get there I walk in, looking around before I call Chase, “Where do I go this place is huge” I can hear talking in the background, actually more like arguing. “Uhm just wait at the entrance i’ll be right there.” He says in a whisper.

He hangs up so I just stand there awkwardly waiting, that was a weird ass phone call. To be fair Chase is a weird ass guy with weird ass coworkers so what do I expect at this point. 

Before I see Chase I see Dr Gregory House, limping quickly towards me. And damn he’s even hotter in person than the pictures I saw of him. 

“Hey, no time to explain, you need to come with me.” He grabs my arm dragging me into the elevator. Before it closes I see Chase come out of the stairway, he sprints towards the elevator but it closes. I hear him trying to say something, but it's muffled and I can’t understand it. Wait why the fuck did I even follow House? 

“You're real compliant, you’d make a great hooker.” 

I turn around and side eye him.

“Thanks, so would you.” I say giving a fake smile. 

“Speaking of compliant, why did you drag me away from Chase? What's going on?’’

“I made a bet with Chase.”

“That's really specific and helpful thanks” 

“Oh yeah no problem” 

Sarcastic asshole. 

“If you don’t tell me, I'll stop following you and go with Chase.” 

He rolls his eyes.

“Fine, Mom! The bet is that I can convince you to work as my assistant here.”

“Really? That's it? I need a job. Why would Chase even bet against that?” 

“He thinks you’ll fall in love with me so he doesn’t want that to happen, in his words, “She has a thing for homeless looking, narcissistic assholes with beards.” So he’s trying to prevent it, and he’s sure he can.”  

Damn- I feel so called out. I stay silent before nodding.

“Well to be honest he isn’t wrong.” 

I see House smirk before we get out of the elevator, he hobbles and leads me to his office, locking the door then having me sit down. 

As I sit down in front of his desk, he grabs a ball and starts throwing it against the wall, while sitting down. 

“So are you gonna interview me or something?” 

“Yeah, I’m just waiting for Chase to get back up here so he can watch me interview you.” 

He really is an asshole…it's kinda hot though. 

“Fair enough.” 

We wait a bit before Chase comes jogging up to the door, out of breath, he’s clearly been running plenty. He starts banging on the glass door that House previously locked.

“House!! Y/N! Let me in! This isn’t fair!” He exclaims, House is grinning when he leans over his desk, crossing his arms.

“Okay! Let’s start this interview now.” 

“Y/n! You traitor!” 

Did I abandon my childhood best friend for some disabled doctor? No, I did it for the job. At least that's what I'm telling myself.   

Turning my attention back to House instead of the Australian cry baby outside the door, he asks me, “First question, do you want the job of being my assistant?” 

“Obviously”

“Great! You have the job!” 

I mean, easy enough. I smile and shake my head. This hospital really has some unique people. 

House shakes my hand, grinning as Chase is sitting on the floor defeated outside. 

As the days turned into weeks at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, I got to know everyone. Cuddy had to actually approve of me working as House’s assistant first, but once she saw a…normal enough individual, she welcomed me into the environment.

Getting to know House better, I found myself drawn to him in ways I hadn’t really expected. The bet between House and Chase, Chase thinking I would fall for House, I took it as a joke, until that joke turned more into reality. 

Despite House being a narcissistic piece of shit, there were small moments that I saw, or shared with him that made me fall for him. Ones where he seemed happy, or just easy to be around. At work he's serious but when Wilson dragged him out to bars, or other social environments, he could actually be fun. And though him being a dick is undeniably attractive sometimes, when he was…”himself” that's how I began to fall for him.  

One day, after an especially tough day for the team, and being forced to go break into houses and get coffee and food, I found myself alone with House in his office. The rest of the team had left, leaving us in a rare moment alone with each other. As I glanced up from the medical chart of the most recent patient, I caught House’s gaze lingering on me, his blue eyes intense and unreadable. 

“Something on your mind, House?” I asked, attempting to break the awkward silence between us. 

He smirked, leaning back in his chair with a casual ease, “Oh just wondering why a catch like yourself doesn’t have a boyfriend, or husband?” He responds, his tone laced with flirtatiousness.

I couldn’t help but chuckle at his response, a faint blush on my cheeks. House and I had gained an uncanny camaraderie, made from me running around doing everyone's paperwork, being the designated “you get to tell patients they are dying!!” person. And as you’d expect people didn’t respect me a lot, but if someone was blatantly mean to me, House would step in and destroy their self esteem in a second and walk away like it meant nothing. That's another thing that I think made me fall for him. 

“Believe me, I’ve been asking myself that a lot too.” I smile, placing the medical chart on his desk. 

“Do you want a boyfriend? Or girlfriend, or a pet or something.” He quips, his eyes looking like they are reading me, studying my every movement and reaction to what he’s saying, it's flattering and uncomfortable at the same time. 

“A boyfriend would be nice.” I say reassuringly, a laugh escaping me as I shake my head in amusement.

“Alright let's say *hypothetically* I asked you out. *hypothetically* what would your response be?” 

Raising an eyebrow I ask, “Are you trying to go on a date with me?”

“I said hypothetically, now answer the question.” 

A smirk plays on my lips as I roll my eyes in a mock annoyance. 

“Well.” I say, “Hypothetically, I would say yes.” 

“Great, meet me for dinner at (some random fancy place idk u make up a name i'm too lazy to), wear something cute.” 

 With that, he sauntered out of the office, leaving me to think about what just happened. Glancing at the clock, I realized I had just enough time to get ready for our “hypothetical date.” 

The anticipation bubbled within me, standing outside (IDK A RESTAURANT NAME IT), waiting for House to arrive. My heart raced with nervous excitement, unsure what to expect from a…unique…guy like House. I had used all the time I had to work on my outfit, settling for a simple dress (or suit, or just anything you're comfy in :) ). 

As I scanned the busy street, searching for any sign of House, I heard the obnoxiously loud sound of a motorcycle approaching. House rode in, parking his bike before getting off and walking (limping) towards me. My breath caught in my throat as I saw him, he looked impossibly handsome, in a tailored suit that made his rugged charm come out, good god he looked fine. 

“Y/n,” he greeted with a warm smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners in genuine affection. “That outfit makes your ass look nice.” 

I scoff playfully, hitting his arm. “So much for acting like a gentleman, at least you look like one.” 

He chuckled, offering me his arm in a more gentlemanly gesture. “Yeah yeah, shall we?” 

With a nod, I looped my arm through his, savoring the warmth of his touch as we mad our way into the restaurant. The ambiance was elegant and inviting, with a soft candlelight casting a warm glow over the decor. 

As we were seated at a table in a quiet corner of the restaurant, I couldn’t help but feel a flutter of excitement in my chest. I’m finally going out with House, damn Chase was totally right. 

Throughout the evening, our conversation flowed surprisingly easily between us. I had half expected him to be rude or stuck up, but he seemed actually interested in me, in my life. He was asking questions, laughing and joking with me. Sharing stories of his own, and treating me like an actual human. Honestly it was scaring me a bit, but it was making me fall harder for him. 

House raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. ‘So, tell my Y/N. What’s the most embarrassing thing that's happened to you?” 

I laughed, shaking my head as I thought about the memory. “Well, there was this one time in college-” 

“Let me guess,” House interrupted, a smirk playing on his lips. “It involved copious amounts of alcohol and very questionable decisions?” 

I chuckle and nod in agreement. “You could say that. Long story short, I ended up streaking through the campus fountain at three in the morning. I'm pretty sure Chase might still have a video of it still.”

House raises an eyebrow, an amused laugh coming from him. “I wish I could say I was surprised, oh and also. I am finding that video.” He states, with a determined and mischievous grin. 

The dinner continues and our connection just seems to get stronger, fueled by shared laughter, stories of shit Wilson and him did in college, things Chase and I did in highschool. With each passing moment, I found myself more and more under House’s spell, captivated by the complexity of himself, his character. His gaze, laughter, even his personality. Maybe it was the wine or something, but House was being nice, he had charisma, and was being attractive in general.  

I don’t even realize that we’ve spent almost three hours in the restaurant just talking. I check my phone seeing that it's 9:30 already. We had got and paid the check awhile ago, but had stayed to talk longer. The restaurant closes at 10, and I felt a sudden pang of disappointment that our date was close to being over with. I didn’t want it to end, I was savoring this moment I was having, this seemingly perfect night. 

When the waiter arrived to take our dessert order, I couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment that the evening was drawing to a close. I wasn't ready for it to end—I wanted to savor every moment, to prolong the magic of our time together for as long as possible.

House notices my look of disappointment, “I’m aware how amazing I am, but if its up to me, this won’t be our last date.” 

A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth, my cheeks heating up as I blush. The butterflies in my stomach going absolutely insane. 

So with a quick glance around the restaurant, I rose from my seat, House grabbed my hand as he led me towards the exit. 

Stepping out into the cool night air, I felt a sense of happiness coursing through me. This was it, the beginning of a new relationship, a surprisingly healthy one so far. 

As House’s hand tightened around mine, his touch sent sparks of electricity coursing through my veins. I knew now that maybe Chase knows me better than I know myself, in all fairness he predicted this, but right now I wasn’t afraid to admit this, to admit the undeniable attraction that I had towards Dr Gregory House. 

His touch leaves mine, his hand pulling as we stand in front of the restaurant, close to each other, staring in each other's eyes. I glance at his lips before leaning in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, not sure if he expected it, but I pull back.

“Goodnight House. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And with that I walk away, to my car. When I get in my car, I look in the mirror, seeing House standing there with a lovestruck grin, one a child would have over some school crush. But it was cute, he was cute. And this was just the beginning of an annoyingly predicated relationship with a Vicodin addicted, asshole, who I suspect has a soft spot for me.

[winwintea]

stop posting about BALLER - zhong chenle

PAIRING ↬ boyfriend!zhong chenle x reader

GENRES ↬ pure crack idk... fluff, romance, some angst if you look in between the lines, chenle loves basketball more than you. unfortunately.

AUTHOR'S NOTE ↬ inspired by a fic i read on ao3, a tiktok i watched where op got mad at their boyfriend for having headphones in while making out, plus my post here. and also chenle's recent fanboying activity in la. ignore the title its a placeholder for now, in honor of my dear friend @syatchy london stop writing for chenle challenge

WORD COUNT ↬ 1.3K

Everyone had their hobbies. You knew your boyfriend liked basketball, you just didn’t realize he liked it that much. 

Making it your life’s goal to win over the heart of Zhong Chenle, you spent countless hours studying quizlet flashcards, watching a couple of basketball games, even trying to learn the sport as well. Although you were surprised when it didn’t take more than a few dates for you to begin dating. 

Your best friend Ning Yizhuo, on the other hand, had other ideas. 

“I just think he’s a big red flag. Who the hell puts “I’m always ballin’” as their twitter bio?” She’s sprawled across your bed, mindlessly stalking your boyfriend’s social media accounts. “What if your man loves another man more than he loves you?” 

You’re paying her no mind, working on a basketball basics test on your laptop. Eight teams from each of the league's two conferences qualify for the playoffs. The top two teams play each other in the conference finals, to determine the Conference Champions from each side. The winners then play in the NBA Finals. 

Yizhuo suddenly stands up, “Hello? Earth to Y/N? Are you ignoring me?” You’re about to answer your next question, until she starts waving her hands in your face.

“What the hell, Yizhuo?” You turn around annoyed. “I was locked in!”

“Studying for basketball is crazy… Just warning you Y/N. Don’t come crying to me when your boyfriend calls you Stephen Curry’s name instead of your own.” 

You punch her in the shoulder, “I swear to god-” 

But Yizhuo seemed unfazed by your attacks, continuing on, “I’m just saying from experience hon. Sports guys like him will never love you as much as he loves his balls.”

“Um.. that’s what she said.”

—

Despite Yizhuo’s warnings and what she seemed so sure of, you and Chenle clicked in a way that none of your exes ever did. If he invited you to the gym, you’d show up with a yoga mat, pretending to do Pilates while sneaking glances at him bench pressing. If Chenle said he was hungry, you’d learn how do use a frying pan, determined to whip up something edible. And if he asked you to come over, you’d throw on your best outfit, adding an extra touch of appeal, and never forget to bring a treat for Daegal.

Spending time with Chenle was easy. It seemed almost too easy, that you began to slightly question why everything seemed so perfect. 

If there were any red flags like Yizhuo pointed out, it was probably too small to see in the mix of fun times you spent together.

Times spent together usually and often ended with the two of you cuddling or making out on his couch. 

Unsurprisingly, Chenle was a really good kisser. Plus, he was good at cuddling. You had no doubts in that moment you laid eyes on him, but everything was certainly up to expectations. He knew exactly how to hold you in his arms and make you feel like you were on top of the whole damn world. 

As you leaned in closer for another this time, your hands running through his hair, you took notice of his features. His incredibly sharp jawline (mewing tutorial when?), the flushed pink splashed across his collarbones up to his cheeks, and now that he grew out his hair longer, it was much harder to see the shape of his ears-

Hold on.

You blink and then squint your eyes for a couple of seconds, hoping you’re just imagining things.

“Chenle. Are those Airpods?”

Chenle immediately pushes you off of him and then freezes.

You see every single emotion flash through Chenle’s eyes, but he’s still speechless. You’d honestly thought you’d been through the entire spectrum of men in your life, from guys who had memes tattooed on their chest to guys who brought their mother to dates to guys with an extremely interesting savior complex, but nothing could’ve prepared you for this.

Relax. You still had your dignity to protect. “What… are you listening to?” Maybe he was into listening to music while making out, maybe some relaxing sounds people used to cope with traumatic intimate experiences??? You were thinking of anything at this point, trying to brace yourself for the absolute worse. 

“Highlights” Chenle begins, looking at you nervously, “For uh, for the Warriors game.” Before you can even process the info, Chenle rambles on, “We’re so so close to a wild card spot and I wanted to turn the game on earlier, but you were talking about your project you were working on and I really wanted to listen, and right now it’s not like we’re talking about anything important, so I figured it might be alright if I-“

what the fuck… yeah shut the hell up right now please, you think as he keeps rambling, and turn around to grab a pillow behind to smack this big headed shit right in the head. 

“Ow-“ Chenle throws his hands up in defense, trying to block the pillow that comes crashing down. “What? Hey!”

“Zhong Chenle. I’m going to chop your fucking dick off.”

—

In the end, Chenle’s dick remains intact. 

After letting himself get beaten up by a pillow, he manages to get you to calm down, taking the airpods out, which makes you a little bit happier than you were before. 

Chenle leaves you on the couch to take a shower, allowing you to ponder for a bit. Were you being too restricting this way? Chenle seemed to still care about you, and didn’t want to take away time from your own interests as well. I mean… maybe you needed to get into basketball as well to fully understand. 

As you lounge on the couch, scrolling aimlessly through Pinterest, you hear the faint sound of the shower turning off. Before you know it, Chenle slips onto the couch beside you, his presence warm and comforting. In one smooth motion, he curls himself around you, arms gently wrapping around your waist as his head nestles into the crook of your neck. The familiar scent of the shampoo you gifted him lingers in the air, blending with the soft warmth of his skin. 

Your mind's racing, caught between conflicting emotions. And damn, Chenle smells incredible, which really isn’t helping right now.

A minute of silence passes before he finally speaks, his voice soft but serious. “Look, I get if you’re uncomfortable. I didn’t mean to push any boundaries. If that was too much, I won’t do it again. And if this is something that’s going to be a dealbreaker for us, I get it—we can end things here.”

“No, wait—no,” you cut in, setting your phone aside to face him. “I was just surprised, that’s all.”

Okay, it was weird. You’ll give him that. Maybe his “casual” obsession with basketball wasn’t as casual as you thought. And sure, that might be a red flag for some.

But Yizhuo’s wrong. Maybe Chenle’s got a deeper connection with his basketballs than you or whoever she’s comparing him to, but at least he’s never moaned or called you Stephen Curry in the heat of the moment.

That’s gotta count for something, right?

Yeah, maybe this wasn’t so bad. You could get used to this. Besides, he already promised he wouldn’t do it again.

Your thoughts bounce back and forth, but after a while, you break the silence with a quiet, “Did you win?”

His head lifts from your shoulder instantly, excitement buzzing in his voice. “Yeah, we did! Secured our spot in the conference finals.”

Conference finals. Oh, right. You recognize that term—studied it on Quizlet like the good, supportive partner you are.

You take a deep breath, bracing yourself, swallowing down the nervous lump in your throat. Chenle might be a bit obsessed with the sport, but he was supportive of your own goals and actually a really nice boyfriend. 

“Tell me about it.”

PERM TAGLIST ↬ @lyvhie @aquaphoenixz @galacticnct @ldh0000

[nashusglasses]

1. sweet, sticky, thick and pretty

(note: I can't stop listening to Bruno Mars!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! technically the title is from silk sonic but anywho :3) note 2: Not to be too anecdotal, but I was a loser all my 4 years of university. Don't know why I always have the urge to write about messy college experiences when all I did was make one singular friend. I also only ever went to *one* official frat party! Absolute Loser behaviour!! What I'm saying is I'm projecting hard and LOVE writing about hot asshole men!!!!!!!!! Oh boy!!

PAIRING. gojo/reader SETTING. college au WARNINGS. alcohol and drug consumption, player!satoru but in the sexiest way possible. suggestive content SUMMARY. It's too late for this.

Satoru’s got his white shirt dirty with grass stains. You don’t know what kind of roughhousing Suguru put him through before you got here, but all you know is there’s a keg outside in the backyard and Satoru’s hair is mysteriously wet. You get your answer when he tries to stick his tongue down your throat and he smells too much like beer.

“Absolutely not.” You block his mouth with a hard hand. “Can you please move? I just saw Natsume here.”

“I don’t fucking care. Kiss me.”

“Or what?”

Something coy flashes in Satoru’s face. He probably thinks he’s got you trapped. Hopeless in the dark corner of this hallway, and if you strain your ears hard enough you think you hear weird squelching noises from the room behind you. But all you feel is the annoyed urge to push him back till he stumbles off, embarrassed. There’s nothing more insistent than a drunk Satoru. There’s also nothing you want to punch more than a drunk Satoru.

“I called you. Thirty six times.”

“It was twice, and I was napping after my exam.”

He rolls his eyes. “Pish posh. Listen. Come over tonight.”

“No.” You shove at his shoulder. Except it’s a little rougher than you anticipated, but it’s still nice to see him lose balance. He won’t get angry. Not when he’s horny out of his mind. “I’m finding Natsume now.”

“What if I said pretty please?”

“Then I’ll shove you harder till you eat shit,” you snort. But you don’t get very far when you try to walk on ahead. Satoru’s strong when he wants to be. He’s got a hot hand wrapped around your wrist, a cement block for weight when you try to pull back.

“Stop ignoring me,” he says. “I told you I wanted you.”

“And then I told you I never wanted to see you again.”

“Sometimes I hear things and then I choose not to understand them,” he explains. He closes the distance again. You wonder how many girls have fallen prey to this tactic. Using his height for advantage, the way the corner of his mouth lifts when he wants to look needy. You know he’s grasping at straws, though. His contact list is heavy with the chance to get his lap wet whenever he wants, and even though you’re not sorry for being the additional number, you’re angry that he ever thought you’d be the easier lay.

“Okay. I’ll say it one more time. Just for you.” You tiptoe up to his ear, make sure your every breath lands hot where it’ll make him shiver. “I don’t want you to call me. I don’t want you to look at me. And I want you to leave me alone.”

Satoru’s placid. No expression to dissect when you stand back down, and his grip is lax now. Natsume’s probably halfway done with that first pre-roll she told you she had. You’re almost greedy for the heat in your chest that blunt promises. Sitting on that scratchy couch while your head gets light enough to reconsider Satoru’s proposition. 

You won’t. Even if you do miss the way he feels under you. A part of you wants to say that it’s only out of self-respect, but it’s funny seeing him so desperate. You’ll gloat about it later when Natsume asks you where you’ve been.

Something in Satoru clicks, and he’s grabbing your wrist again. “There’s just–something about you.” 

“Satoru, you’re drunk. We’ve been over this. I know I’ve got godly legs and a tight pussy but you’re just–”

“A man whore,” he finishes for you.

You nod sympathetically. “I’m glad you get it. Do you want me to find Suguru for you?”

“I want you to kiss me,” he complains. “Holy fuck. I’m–I’m fucking drunk. And I told you I wanted you, and I told Akane that she has great tits but not as great as yours, and she slapped the shit out of me, and I told you I wanted you but you don’t want me back.”

“Why the hell would you say that?” You’ve seen her before. Linguistics 202. She’s smart, has killer fashion sense, and Natsume hates her because her eyelashes are long and curled and not fake at all. “You’re so goddamned stupid. I’m going now.”

“I know. I know I’m stupid. Just–before you go.” You raise an eyebrow. “Don’t block my number. Please. That’s all I’m asking.” 

You’ll give him points for begging. The door to the room with mysterious noises opens, and two girls with messy hair filter out noiselessly. No witness to Satoru’s groveling. But you’re kind, so you leave him with a wet kiss to his cheek just to see his eyes go wide. 

“Tell Akane you’re sorry. Then come find me when you’re sober,” you say. 

When you turn around, you text Natsume to find where she is. 

You don’t notice Satoru squeezing his eyes shut, cheeks burning hot, half-hard from the feeling of your mouth on his skin.

[i-am-baechu]

❥・Title: Danger! 

❥・Paring: Jimin x reader 

❥・ Summary: Y/N spent every day the same. Read records, help a patient, read more records, prescribe medication, and then go home. Meeting the preschool teacher who teaches her nephew in the hospital lobby was something she wasn’t expecting but she wasn’t complaining. Especially when he’s so cute.

❥・ Rating: Pg - 14

❥・ Genre: Doctor! Y/N, preschool teacher! Jimin, Brother Jungkook!, fluff, romance, little spice and comedy

❥・Authors Note: I was going to upload this yesterday but I fell asleep as soon as I got home! Sorry guys but here she is~

Playlist: Danger - Woo!Ah! ♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.

Jeon Y/N finished the last report and leaned back in her chair with a loud sigh. It was a busy day but what else is new for her? She pushed her glasses up into her hair and stared at the ceiling with a blank expression. She loves being busy. It keeps her mind off of things but sometimes it just gets too much. Before her thoughts consumed her, her cell phone started ringing. She took the phone out as she continued to stare at the ceiling, “Hello?”

“Yah! Y/N, where are you?”

“Don’t talk to me like that, it's annoying.” 

“I’m older than you! Don’t tell me what to do!” 

“Jungkook, what do you want?” 

“Haneul misses you and he wants you to come over for dinner.”

Y/N smiled at this and nodded her head, “I miss Haneul too. I’ll visit, I just finished my reports.”

“Don't you miss your brother?” 

“Bye~.”

“Yah, Y/N-”

Y/N pressed the red button and put her phone back in her pocket. She let out a laugh and shook her head, “Idiot.” She put away the reports into her desk and put the leftovers of her lunch in her bag. She stretched her back and let out a small groan when she felt it crack. She took her doctor's coat and put it on the coat hanger with a small smile. She grabbed her tote and was finally leaving her office. It felt like she lived there but it did feel good to be wanted by someone that wasn’t her family. 

She walked out of her office saying her goodbyes whenever she walked past someone. She put her things in the car and she stared at herself in the small mirror in her car. She was only twenty-seven and she already felt like she was in her fifties with the amount of work she had. Being an adult is so troublesome. 

She entered the familiar house and the smell of beef hit her nose. She went to take off her shoes but before she could bend down, a loud voice echoed through the living room, “Aunty!!” 

“My Haneul!~ I missed you so much, baby!~” 

“You can’t even say that to your brother?”

She picked up Haneul and scoffed at Jungkook as she placed a kiss on Haneul’s forehead, “Why would I say it to you, Jungkook?”

Jungkook placed the bowl of greens on the table and pouted at her, “Because I raised you!” 

“Okay? Do you want a gold star for that?” 

Jungkook put some salad on a plate and nodded his head, “I do because you didn’t make things easy you know.” 

“I just taught you stuff, isn’t that right, Haneul?”

Haneul let out a small laugh and hugged Y/N’s neck, “Yeah, Daddy! Aunty taught new stuff!” 

“See Kook, you should listen to your son.” 

Jungkook rolled his eyes and took Haneul out of her arms, “Haneul, do you want to tell Aunty what you did today?”

Haneul nodded his head, “Teacher...I patched his cut.” 

Y/N tilted her head at this and smiled, “Are you a doctor like me, Han?”

Jungkook pouted at her and shook his head “Maybe he wants to be like his dad?” 

“Single?” 

Jungkook scoffed at this and kissed Haneul on the cheek causing a giggle to erupt, “Aunty is lonely and will always be right?”

“Daddy? I want....Aunty to meet teacher.”

Y/N raised her eyebrow as she sat next to Jungkook, “Teacher? What's his name?”

Jungkook clicked the straps on Haneul’s high chair and gave her a small smirk, “Jimin.”

“Last name?”

“Park Jimin.” 

Jimin sneezed in his office and Taehyung tilted his head, “You good?”

“Just a sneeze.” 

Taehyung leaned forward and gave him a mischievous look, “That means someone is talking about you.”

Jimin rolled his eyes and put his folders in the cabinet, “Who would talk about me?” 

“A future lover, I bet.”

“Tae, shut up. Talking about lovers, shouldn’t you go home to yours?” 

Taehyung rolled his eyes and stood up from his chair, “Yuki knows I’ll be late.”

“Just go and leave me alone.” 

Taehyung put his hands up in defeat and let out a sigh, “Just think about my offer.” 

Jimin sighed and took a sip of his water, “I’ll think about it...now leave my office.” 

“Yes, Mr. Park.”

“Don’t call me that!” 

˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

“Mr. Park....”

Jimin looked behind him to see Haneul looking at him with a sad look. Jimin raised his eyebrow at the sight and was worried. Haneul was usually loud and happy but this was different. Jimin put the marker down next to Jon on the table. He stood up from the small table and took Haneul to his desk. He leaned down to his level and gave him a small smile, “Haneul? Is everything okay?”

Haneul bit his lip and nodded his head, “I miss my aunty...” Jungkook warned him that Haneul was going to be like this today, “My sister came over last night and left this morning. Haneul is going to be pouty about it because he doesn’t get to see her that much. Can you try and show him other things to get his mind off of it? Sorry.”

Jimin nodded his head at Haneul and turned around to take something out of the treasure box. Haneul didn’t pay any attention because he was looking at the floor with a frown. Jimin took out a bunny puppet and put his hand through it, “Cheer up there buddy! Your aunty will come and visit you!” 

Haneul looked up from the ground and his eyes landed on the bunny. His frown quickly turned into a smile and pointed at the bunny, “Daddy!” 

“Daddy wouldn’t want you to be sad at your favorite place. Do you want a hug?”

Haneul clapped his hands and nodded his head, “I do!” 

Jimin brought the rabbit to his small chubby face and Haneul hugged Jimin’s arm tight. Jimin smiled at this but he wondered about his aunt. Haneul talks about his aunt a lot but Jungkook barely mentions her to him. He wondered what was so secretive about her...

Y/N sneezed in her office and her assistant, Jung Hoseok, tilted his head, “Are you okay Doctor Jeon?” 

Y/N nodded her head and wiped her nose with a tissue, “It was a small sneeze.” 

Hoseok nodded his head and a smug look appeared on his face, “You know...that means someone is talking or thinking about you.” 

Y/N rolled her eyes and stood up from her desk, “I doubt that. We have a distal radius fracture in room four and the patient's name is Lee Sua. She’s a twenty-six-year-old and it says here that she fell down at work. I’m going to have you look at her while I go to Kim Yuki.” 

Hoseok nodded his head and took the folders from Y/N, “Is Mrs. Kim going to find out the gender for today?” 

“If she wants. I doubt it, her husband said he wanted a surprise.”

Hoseok read through the reports and nodded his head, “Surprises are good, right?” 

“They are. Alright, call me if you need anything, okay, Hoseok?” 

“Okay, doctor.” 

Y/N left to go to room ten with a small smile on her face. Kim Yuki or Min Yuki has been her patient for a couple of years now. She was her primary doctor and her first real doctor after moving away from her parents. Yuki was only two years older than her but Yuki acted like she was much younger. Yuki was the definition of adorable. She had doe eyes and chubby cheeks that were always rosy. It made sense that Yuki got with a handsome man like Taehyung. They were the perfect couple in her eyes. 

She knocked on the door and heard a small “come in.” Y/N opened the door and pushed her hair behind her ear, “Good morning, the Kims.” 

“Good morning, Y/N.”

Y/N smiled and waved at the couple, “How is everything?” 

Yuki glanced at Taehyung and then back at Y/N with a shy look, “My... boobs have been hurting lately and nothing is helping.”

Taehyung sighed and shook his head, “She’s also been having some discharge.”

Y/N nodded her head and wrote down some notes, “That’s all normal Mrs. Kim. Unfortunately, I can’t prescribe medicine for that because of how sensitive you are towards medication. I’ll ask the pharmacy today to show you the heating pads. For the discharge, as long as there's no blood then I’m not too worried about it.” 

Yuki nodded her head and looked at Taehyung with a pout, “I told you not to tell her...”

“Babe, she's our doctor. She needs to know everything regardless of how embarrassing it is.”

Y/N nodded her head and set up the ultrasound machine, “He’s right, Yuki.”

Yuki crossed her arms over her chest and nodded her head, “Fine..I’ll let him be right this once. Enjoy it, Tae.”

“Oh, I will.” 

Y/N let out a laugh and put on some gloves, “Can you lift up your shirt? I’m going to put this jelly on you and it's going to be cold, alright?” 

“Okay.” 

She put the gel on her and she smiled at the screen, “Take a look there's your baby. Would you like to know the gender?”  

“No, I want it to be a surprise.” 

Y/N nodded her head and smiled, “I kinda figured.”

Yuki smiled at her and wiped the gel off of her, “Did you think about what I said?”

Taehyung glanced at her and was excited to hear her answer, “I didn’t have time to be honest. I was with Haneul yesterday.”

“Oh, you were with your brother?”

“No, I said Haneul.” 

Yuki let out a small laugh and shook her head, “You guys are so cute together. I was just wondering what you thought about it.” 

“I don’t know how I would do on a blind date...let me think about it still.” 

“Okay...just know he's cute.”

Taehyung glared at his wife and shook his head, “I’m cuter...right?”

“Yes, you are.”

Y/N wanted to gag at the cuteness but instead, she just rolled her eyes at them. She put her equipment away and looked at her clipboard as Yuki stared at her with doe eyes, “Staring isn’t nice.”

“I think you would like him.”

“Yuki all because you think I would like him doesn’t really help me. I’ll think about it okay.”

“Promise me?”

She sighed and glanced at her with a small, “I promise.” 

Jimin sat at the bar drinking away. The stress of being a teacher was finally getting to him on his day off. Before he finished off his drink he felt an arm around his shoulder and he rolled his eyes when he realized who it was, “What do you want?” 

“Is that how you talk to your hyung?” 

“Hoseok...I’m sorry.”He turned towards him and gave him a small stressed smile, “It was a long day today.” 

Hoseok nodded his head and asked for a drink, “Ah, I get it. What happened?” 

“I had a student that was clinging onto me all day because he missed his aunty. I felt bad because I couldn’t really do anything for him.” 

“Aww, that's cute. Missing someone just shows how much they love someone. He’s also a kid, he doesn’t know how to control his emotions.” 

Jimin finished off his drink and nodded his head, “I know...and then I have Taehyung on my ass about this blind date.” 

Hoseok raised his eyebrow as he took a sip of his drink, “Blind date?” 

“Yeah, he said that I’ve been single for too long.”

“I mean the last time you had a relationship was in college.” 

Jimin glared at Hoseok and then looked back at his glass, “Thanks for reminding me...”

Hoseok let out a small laugh and shook his head, “I think it would be good for you. Meet new people.”

“This person could possibly be my girlfriend in the future. It’s a lot of pressure.” 

“Don’t think so ahead.” 

“I’ll try. I just hope she's great like how Taehyung has told me.” 

Y/N sneezed again in her office and took out a tissue in annoyance, “I swear if I’m getting sick, I’m going to kill Jungkook.” 

˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

Y/N went into the lobby to speak to a nurse but her eyes landed on Jungkook and Haneul. Her eyes widened at this and rushed towards them, “What happened? Haneul, are you okay? Jungkook, are you okay?” 

Jungkook smirked at this and tilted his head at her, “Awww, do you care for me?” 

She glared at him as her eye twitched, “I can send you to the ER with broken ribs if you test me.” 

“But I don’t have broken ribs...”

“I can change that.” 

Haneul tilted his head at Y/N and tugged at her doctor's coat, “Aunty.” 

She got to his level and pushed some hair back behind his ears, “What’s wrong?” 

“Teacher. He fell and started bleeding.” 

“Bleeding?” She glanced at Jungkook as he nodded his head, “Where is he?” 

“He had to go to the bathroom. I was going to check him in.” 

“What happened?” 

Jungkook sighed and rubbed his neck, “Haneul was so excited about visiting you today that he started jumping. When he was jumping he dropped his backpack by the stairs and well...Jimin slipped on the bag and fell.” 

“HE FELL DOWN STAIRS!”

Jungkook flinched at her voice and nodded his head, “I’m sure he's fine.” 

“Was it a couple of stairs?” 

“Technically...”

Y/N glared at Jungkook and slammed her foot on his, causing him to groan, “Tell me now.”

“He fell down a flight of stairs.”  

“He could have broken something, you know that right.” 

Jungkook glanced at his foot and then at her, “I think you broke my foot.” 

“Kook, I’m going to break your neck in a second.” 

“Is this the famous aunty, Haneul?”

She turned around at the new voice and her eyes widened. He had cuts all over his body and was limping towards them. She looked back at Jungkook and glared at him, “He can’t even walk right.” 

“He has health insurance?” 

“Jungkook, you're about to need your insurance when I’m done with you.” Y/N went to get a wheelchair and have him slowly sit in it, “I’m Doctor Jeon. I’ll get a nurse to do some x-rays and we’ll figure it out from there.” 

“What about my job?” 

She glanced at Jungkook and nodded her head, “Tell Jin that Jimin can’t come into work.” 

Jimin raised his eyebrow and looked at her, “You know Jin?” 

“Of course I do, he’s our cousin.” 

Jungkook pouted at this, “He’s going to yell at me.” 

“As you deserve. Now go before I kill you. I love you Haneul. Don’t you have something to say to Jimin?” 

Haneul nodded his head and looked down at his feet, “I-I’m sorry.”

Jimin smiled at this and leaned towards him (ignoring the sharp pain), “It’s okay. Accidents happen.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

Y/N leaned down and kissed Haneul on the top of his head, “As long as you learn from your mistake. Now, Park Jimin, I’m going to get you a nurse okay.” 

“O-Okay.” 

Y/N gave him one final smile as he watched her walk away. He looked at Jungkook with a small smile, “She’s cute...”

“Dude, did you hit your head?” 

“No, I have eyes. I know cute when I see it.” 

Jungkook scoffed at him and looked at Haneul, “Did you hear that Han, Mr. Park thinks Aunty is cute.” 

“Aunty cute.” 

“Don’t be on his side.” 

Y/N nodded her head at the nurse, “He’s over there in the wheelchair. He’s limping and favoring his right side. I’m going to assume that his left leg is what took most of the damage.”

“So, x-ray on his left leg?”

“That’s the most important one but I also want an x-ray of his whole body. If we have to then we can do a CAT scan or an MRI.” 

The nurse glanced over Y/N’s shoulder and looked at Jimin with a flushed face, “He’s cute.” 

Y/N shook her head and let out a small laugh, “You can stare at him when your job is done. In the meantime let’s do our job, okay?” 

The nurse nodded her head in embarrassment, “Sorry, doctor Jeon.” 

“It’s okay.” She turned around to glance at Jimin and let out a small laugh, “I get it though. Let’s get this done.” 

“Okay, doctor.” 

Jimin sat in his room and stared at the white ceiling with a bored face. It’s been four hours since his x-rays and MRIs. It's boring now. Nothing was happening and he had to wait for his results. Waiting is the most annoying thing to do especially in situations like these. The door opened and his spirits were lifted when he saw the familiar face. 

“Jimin, I told you to sleep.” 

He let out a small laugh and shrugged his shoulders, “I couldn’t really sleep...I was anxious about the results.” 

Y/N gave him a comforting look and nodded her head, “I understand that. Shockley, you didn’t break or fracture anything. You're just very bruised.” 

 “Does that mean I can go to work?” 

She rolled her eyes and updated his whiteboard about his condition, “No, I’m going to have you stay for at least a week. Just in case anything else shows up. If you go to work, you can easily tear a muscle and that’s not fun.” 

Jimin pouted but nodded his head, “I guess...at least I can be around you then.” 

Y/N’s eyes widened at this and dropped her marker, “Y-Yeah. Get some sleep.”

“Yes, doctor.” 

A week and Jimin was infatuated with Y/N. Jimin falls fast, he is a hopelessly romantic after all. Yes, he wished this was a different situation but at least he got to be with her. Y/N was serious about her job and it was hot. The way she explained to him about his condition or how she helped him move around. It just made him fall for her even more. Maybe he should get hurt again just to see her. 

Today he was leaving but he wanted to have one last lunch with Y/N. He sat on the patio with his soup in front of him waiting for her. He saw Y/N come into the lunchroom but it was clear she was annoyed. He tilted his head but saw someone following her. He was kinda of glad that the person didn’t know indoor voices.

“Y/N, please go out with me.” 

Jimin wanted to laugh when he saw her roll her eyes and shake her head. It was clear she wanted nothing to do with the poor dude. She glanced at Jimin and she smiled at him. As if he was her savior (or that’s how Jimin saw it). She turned around and said something to the guy who sent a glare toward Jimin. The guy said one last thing and walked away with his head steaming in anger. 

She sat at the table and she gave him an awkward smile, “Sorry about that...he always does this to me and I always tell him no. You would think he would get it by now.” 

“I can understand why he kept trying?”

She raised her eyebrow and opened up her lunch box, “Oh, why?”

“You're beautiful, smart, and all the above. I get it.”

She let out a small laugh and felt her face get hot but ignored it, “I can say the same to you. Today is your last day, are you excited?” 

“Not really. I was out of work for a week and now I have to go back to work. Not fun.”

“But you love your work.”

He sighed and nodded his head, “I do love my work but I forgot how much of a workaholic I am.”

“Ah, I see. I’m like that too. That’s why my friend wants me to go on this blind date.” 

Jimin felt his heart shattered at this but he just smiled at her, “That’s funny because my friend was doing the same for me.” 

“Two workaholics trying to date, how funny.”

“It could be a story.” 

She took a bite of her steak and smiled, “Are you going on the date?” 

“Yeah, I have nothing to lose. What about you?”

“Same here...I’m going to miss seeing you.”

He raised his eyebrow and leaned forward with a little smirk, “Oh?” 

“Shut up. You're fun to be around and you don’t give me a headache.” 

“I mean you have your brother.” 

“The biggest headache around.” 

He let out a laugh and shook his head, “You know, Haneul talks about you all the time at school.” 

“Does he?” 

“He always says that he wants to be like you.”

Her ego went higher with that statement, “Really? Please tell that to Jungkook and take a picture of his face.”

“You really are a menace to him aren’t you.”

“I’m his sister, I have to humble him somehow.” 

“Doctor Jeon, Doctor Min needs you.”

She looked up to see a nurse standing by the door with an apologetic face, “ Looks like I need to leave. I’ll see you later Jimin?”

“Yeah...hopefully.” 

She gathered her things and stood up from the chair. She went by his side and gently rubbed his shoulder, “Bye.”

“Bye Y/N...”

He watched her leave and he leaned back in his seat with a frown, “Fuck now I gotta go on that date.” 

˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

Y/N looked at herself in the mirror and flattened out her skirt. She was in a simple satin pink dress and she felt pretty. It’s been a while since she felt like that. She did a small twirl and smiled to herself, “I told you that dress would be perfect.” 

She glanced at Yuki through the mirror and nodded her head, “I know...it’s just...this is weird for me.”

“Why?”

She turned around to look at Yuki with a frown, “This isn’t work or family-related, it's strange to focus on something else.” 

Yuki rubbed her stomach and nodded her head, “I know but this will be good for you. Have fun for once without work and family.” 

She sighed and nodded her head, “You sound like my brother but less annoying.” 

Yuki let out a laugh and covered her mouth, “Taehyung is really excited for this date but he didn’t tell me why.” 

“That sounds like him. Thank you for letting me get ready at your house.” 

“No problem, it's fun having another girl.”

Just wait a few more months and you get to experience that all the time, “I guess I should be going.” 

The two walked down the stairs talking to each other while Taehyung was watching TV. He glanced at her and gave her a thumbs up, “You look good doctor.” 

“Thanks. Why are you so excited about this date?”

Taehyung glanced at Yuki who was looking away from his stare. He looked back at Y/N and smiled, “I’m just excited.”

“Any hints on the guy?”

“You’ve met him before.”

She tilted her head and raised her eyebrow, “That doesn’t help me.”

“I never said it would help.” 

Y/N rolled her eyes and took her purse off the couch (hitting Taehyung in the head in the process), “I’ll be going. Hopefully, I don’t die on this date.” 

“You won’t. Go have fun!~” 

She smiled at Yuki and waved goodbye to them, “I’ll see you guys later.” 

When the door closed, Yuki turned towards Taehyung with a confused look, “She met him before?” 

“Yeah, let me have fun with this.”

“I guess...”

Y/N entered the restaurant and smiled at the hostess, “I have a table under Kim Taehyung.” 

“Right this way.” 

She smiled at her and followed her through the crowded restaurant. The light was dimmed and it was clear this is a place for dates. Taehyung did his homework. She stood in shock when she saw who was at the table but was also happy to see him, “Jimin?”

“Y-Y/N?” 

˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

Tag List:

@bangtan4everr

[leviackermanscleaningbuddy]

SKZ DRABBLE-OT8

The one where the rules are broken, and maybe better than before.

Or the twentieth installment of the SKZ!pack prequel series, from the other side of the story.

Tags: Skz, stray kids, stay, ot8, skz!pack, skz!abo, poly!skz, omegaverse, pack!prequel, skz!pack prequel, prequel series, bang chan, lee minho, seo changbin, lee felix, hwang hyunjin, han jisung, kim seungmin, yang jeongin, y/n, skz x you, skz x reader, ot8 x you, ot8 x reader, skz drabble, angst

Genre: Angst, Hurt, Comfort

Title: The Other Things (From Changbin's POV)

I fucked up. 

I know that. 

But as I stare at the screen of my phone, watching the call go immediately to voicemail-again-I can feel the anger bubbling up to fill the cracks between the pools of guilt and fear sitting in my gut. 

What the hell was she thinking?

“Fuck!” I swear vehemently and toss the phone across the room. It hits the wall and falls to the floor. I’ll worry about that later. 

Leaning forward, elbows on my knees, I rake my fingers through my hair, over and over, the movements short and repetitive and furious, as I try to think of what to do. 

I couldn’t tell Chan. Hell, I couldn’t even tell Jisung or Felix or Seungmin. They’d never forgive me. 

So I stand up slowly, taking in a deep breath, and retrieve my phone, dialing the number of the only person I know who won’t immediately blow this out of proportion. 

I watch it ring, and then the line connects.

“What?” Minho’s voice snaps through the speaker, annoyed and aloof and altogether entirely Minho. 

I immediately feel the band around my chest loosen just a bit. 

“Hyung.” 

I swallow, suddenly not able to get the words out, and I hear him sigh through the other end of the phone. 

“What?” He repeats again, but doesn’t ask anything else, and that’s what I’ve always liked about Minho, why I called him over anyone else. 

He doesn’t care about other peoples’ business enough to pry. 

But he always shows up when you ask him to. 

And right now, I needed him to. 

I clear my throat and try again, trying not to think of the dozens of unanswered calls and messages weighing down the phone in my hand. 

“I messed up.” 

Minho snorts, and I hear the clatter of cookware in the background, he must be cooking. 

“Is this supposed to be news to me?” 

I pinch the bridge of my nose and take in another calming breath. My chest feels tight once more as I think back to the argument, and I wince, glad no one can see. 

“No, like, I royally fucked up this time. Like enough that I don’t know if I-or hell, anyone-can fix it.” 

There is a brief silence, and then Minho says, “Okay. Well what do you want me to do about it?” 

I know he’s not trying to be smart, or cold, or anything other than straight forward, but it still hurts a little, hearing him ask so bluntly. 

“I can’t get a hold of (Y/N). She’s ignoring my calls.” 

Another beat of silence, and then I hear Minho click his tongue, as if he’s understanding something he hadn’t before. The sound of a pot clangs into the sink. 

“Christopher’s gonna fucking kill you.” 

I roll my eyes, but he’s right, and that’s exactly why I’m coming crawling to him for help instead of my best friend. 

“I know. Why do you think you’re here?” 

Minho scoffs audibly, but I hear the jangle of keys as if he’s grabbing things off the counter in preparation to leave. 

I hope it’s to help me. 

“I can’t save you from him. And I wouldn’t want to.” 

I run my tongue over my teeth, feeling agitated suddenly. 

The longer we spend talking, the longer she could be getting herself into trouble, or worse. 

I wouldn’t put it past her to do something stupid right now, not with how furious she was with me when I last saw her. 

“Hyung, I’m not asking you to protect me, just please, can you-” I stopped. 

It wasn’t like me to ask for help, but I needed his in this moment, and I’d just have to deal with it. 

She wasn’t going to answer me, she’d made that more than clear. 

I take in a stuttered breath and try again. 

“I know I fucked up, I know that, believe me, but I she’s not going to talk to me, and I need to make sure she’s okay.” 

A sigh, and then Minho says, “Well c’mon then, dumbass. I’m outside the dorm with the car.” 

Relief pools in my stomach, and I open my mouth to thank him, my eyes burning slightly, but he beats me to the punch. 

“And don’t even try to get sappy or sentimental on me, because I will retract my help and leave you on your own, so help me god. Now get downstairs.” 

I clamp my mouth shut and end the call. 

********

“Wait, wait, wait!” I grab Minho’s shoulder, and he grumbles as he shakes me off, navigating the car down the cramped roads of the campus. 

I point toward the lit up bus stop, and the figure walking toward it. 

“That’s her! Pull over!” 

“I have eyes, thank you.” Minho mutters with annoyance, but he swerves the car over to the curb without another word and I’m out the door before we’ve even come to a complete stop, my feet slapping down hard on the pavement. 

The panic in my gut is making it hard for me to think straight.

She turns at the noise, expression on guard, and I lunge toward her before I’ve even had time to think. 

I come to a stop in front of her, chest heaving, and she stares at me, expression unreadable, face hard. 

She doesn’t say a word.

Suddenly, all the fear coagulating in my stomach starts to bitter into something angry, something dark, and I glare at her, the next words from my mouth are ones I instantly wish I could take back. 

“Where the fuck have you been?” 

Her eyes darken, and her lips press into a thin line. 

“Out.” Is all she says, and I feel a manic laugh starting to bubble in my chest at the response. 

Really? That’s all she’s going to give me? I’ve been trying to reach her for hours, worried out of my goddamn mind, and the only explanation to where she’s been is fucking ‘out’?

She’s still holding my gaze with her own, fierce and defensive, not backing down an inch, and I feel the rage bubble heatedly into my throat. 

I clench my fists. 

 “That’s all you have to say for yourself? We’ve been trying to reach you all goddamn night, (Y/N), we were fucking worried.” 

I see the corners of her lips turn up at that, as if she wants to laugh in my face, and I wouldn’t blame her. 

Not after what I’d said earlier. 

How could she think I’d be worried? When all I did was push her away?

She turns her head stubbornly to the side, and that’s when I see it, the drying blood in the corner of her lip, the fresh, red mark across her jaw, already starting to fade to purple around the edges. 

Everything inside of me devolves into hot, fiery rage, and this time, it’s not directed at her.

I feel out of control as I pinch her chin forcefully between my fingers and yank her gaze back to mine, ignoring the way she winces slightly under the rough touch. 

“You’re fucking bleeding.” I growl out, my entire body hot and electrified, like I just touched a red hot poker. My eyes dart once more to the bruising marking her pretty skin, and I can feel myself spiraling. “What the hell happened?”

 She yanks from my grip and turns on her heel, stalking toward the bus stop, not giving me another glance. 

“I handled it.” 

I don’t think, I lunge forward and grab her wrist, stopping her forward movement as she turns to glare at me with undisguised hatred over her shoulder. 

Good, I deserve it, and hate is still an emotion, and I’d rather her look at me right now with any emotion rather than with nothing at all. 

Nothing is when you know you’ve lost them. 

“Where the hell are you going?” 

She grits her teeth, I see it in the clamp of her jaw, and then she spits out, “I’m getting on the bus and I’m going home.” 

It’s there again, the manic urge to laugh bubbling up in my chest, the insane urge to yell and kick and hit and do anything, anything at all, rather than feel like this for one more fucking torturous minute. 

But instead, I meet her head on, I can’t seem to back down, and snap right back, “You’re not getting on the fucking bus, (Y/N).” 

She stares me down, eyes cold. 

“Like hell I’m not.” 

God, why do we both have to be so goddamn stubborn? 

She tugs from my grasp once more, and I let her, before turns away again. 

I bite down on the inside of my cheek so hard I taste copper, and take another step after her, catching her once more. 

She doesn’t even bother turning around this time. 

And when she speaks, her voice is deadly. 

“Let me go, Changbin.” 

No. I don’t think I will. 

I drag her backward easily, toward Minho, toward the waiting car, and she digs in her heels, fighting me, but it’s no use. 

I’m a madman, fueled by rage and adrenaline, and I’m fucking sick of this cat and mouse game. 

I reach the curb and shove her none too gently toward the car. 

“Get in the fucking car, (Y/N).” 

I see the resolve still in her eyes, see the fire in the depths of her irises, and she crosses her arms stubbornly over her chest, staring me down. 

“No.” 

Damn it all, I love her fight, I always have, but could she just fucking not for once and fucking listen to me?

I’m caught in a glare down with her, neither of us willing to give up, and then the sound of the car door opening draws my attention. 

Minho appears, annoyed resignation on his face, his eyes dark, as he leans against the open driver’s door and pins her down with his gaze. 

“(Y/N).” 

The way he says her name has her instantly turning her head. 

His expression brooks no arguments as he says in a low, cool voice, “Get in the car.” 

I think she’s going to resist, ignore him, the same way she’s ignored me all day, but instead, she huffs an angry breath, and opens the door to the backseat, sliding in without another word, before she slams the door so hard the windows shake. 

Minho gives me a pointed stare across the top of the car, and returns to the driver’s seat. 

I’m so angry, I can feel my pulse in every goddamn inch of my body, but I clench my hands and get into the passenger seat, slamming my own door for good measure. 

Minho sighs, long and heavy, but I simply smirk and slouch back in the seat, crossing my arms over my chest and staring straight ahead. 

Oh, baby girl, two can play at this game. 

Minho pulls away from the curb, and I force myself to stare out the window, ignoring the building scents of smoke and frost coming to a head in the space of the small car, tense and uncertain and at odds. 

Finally, Minho glances into the rearview mirror at her and asks, “What happened to your lip?” 

I huff a humorless scoff beneath my breath, but don’t take my eyes off the road ahead. 

She’s not gonna tell him. She’s too goddamn stubborn. 

“Just some stupid frat boys.” I hear her say sullenly from the darkness of the back seat, shifting slightly, my ears over attuned to her and her every movement. 

My alpha growls at her words, dangerous and on edge, and I have to force myself from immediately demanding an explanation from her once more, maybe some names, some descriptions. 

God, I really need to fight someone right now. 

Frat boys will do just fine.

Especially if they touched what’s mine. 

I can’t help it, I open my big, dumb mouth, and poke the bear a little bit more. 

Everything smart inside of me is telling me to shut up, but I can’t. 

I want her to suffer, to be scared, to feel stupid, to feel guilty, like I had all day since the fight. 

I turn in my seat and fix her with a glare. 

“See, this is why you never should’ve went to that stupid party on your own in the first place-”

She immediately straightens, the fire reignited in her eyes, and her volume rises in anger, her voice shaking. 

“Do you even fucking hear yourself?” She narrows her eyes at me, and I have to stop myself from letting my gaze drift to the blood by her lips. “I’m an alpha, Changbin. An alpha! Just like you, just like Minho, but just because I’m a girl-” 

Stop, something whispers, stop now, before you cross another line. 

But I can’t. 

“And would they have attacked you if you hadn’t been a girl?!” I bellow out, all the anger and fear and exhaustion finally coming to a head, misdirected at her, the twisted messed up source of it all. 

I see the tears pool in her eyes as I stare at her, chest heaving with rage, but she doesn’t bite back, instead she sits back in the seat and stares doggedly out the window, lips clamped, until I finally break eye contact and turn back to the front. 

Minho shoots me a sidelong, accusatory look, but I ignore him, staring out the windshield as I unlock my fingers slowly, one by one. 

My palms have red, angry crescent moons dug into them, a tribute to the anger I’ve been trying to keep inside. 

The rest of the ride home is silent, and the only thing filling the car is the overwhelming, choking smell of smoke. 

******

When Minho parks the car, she gets out of the back seat without a word and heads toward the elevator without a single backward glance. 

I let her go, because what the hell am I supposed to say? 

I get out, and Minho follows, but he doesn’t fall in line with me as I walk toward the elevator, and when I turn back, he’s leaning against the car, staring me down with an unreadable expression, swinging the keys between his fingers. 

I sigh, and rake a hand through my hair. 

“Let me have it.” 

Minho stays silent, his gaze never leaving mine, and then he finally says, “I’m not going to ask what happened. It’s not my business. But you better fucking fix that-” He motions to the elevator where she disappeared, his expression hardening minutely, and I can tell he’s angry, can tell he’s fucking furious in this moment. “-before I take care of it myself.” 

I stand rooted in place, as he pushes off the car and walks past me toward the elevator now, not giving me another glance, but saying in a low, cold voice as he passes, “No one will ever find your body.” 

A chill runs down my spine at his words, because I know he means it, and more importantly, I know he’s right. 

No one would find my body if Minho had anything to say about it, and I knew better than anyone that I’d better fix this fuck up, and quickly, if I didn’t want him, or her, to hate me forever. 

I stand there, considering, and when I hear the ding of the elevator being called, I turn, holding out my hand toward him.

He eyes me with a blank expression. 

I motion toward the keys. 

“Think Chan-hyung will mind me borrowing his car for another few hours?” 

Minho stares at me, then tosses me the keys, which I catch easily in the palm of my hand. 

 “Fix it.” He reiterates slowly, and then steps into the elevator and disappears as well. 

I clench the keys in my hand and breathe out hard through my nose. 

That’s entirely what I intended on doing. 

One way or another. 

I unlock the car once more and slide into the driver’s seat this time, and as it roars to life beneath me, and I speed out of the parking garage, I can’t help but think back to that morning, when it had all gone to shit, and only because I was a fucking coward. 

I had fucked up, and hurt her in the process, and all for what? Because I was too caught up in my head with the logistics, with the rules, with the fear. 

I’d ruined it all, self sabotaged, because I didn’t want her to feel obligated. 

But she’d said it all on her own-I hadn’t forced her into anything, deep down, I knew that, I did-but then I’d let the fear take over, the what ifs, and I hadn’t said it back. 

Fuck. 

I wanted to-god had I wanted to-but something had held me back, something that haunted me, in everything I did, no matter what it was. 

The terrifying realization that if I crossed that line, any line, all my hard work to be different, to be better, would go to waste, that I’d be no better than any other alpha who took what they wanted, just took and took and took, consequences be damned. 

I wouldn’t do that to her, not if I could help it. 

But I also couldn’t explain that, so instead, I’d shut down, and I’d pushed her away.

And now I’d fucked it all up, and I didn’t know how to fix it. 

“I love you.” She had said, breathless and beautiful and entirely too goddamn perfect for this world. 

I stared at her, still breathing hard, still a little foggy from the high, feeling myself still inside her, slick and warm and beating, and instead of saying anything-because holy shit, had she really just said that?-I stayed silent, trying to compute. 

The words were there, on the tip of my tongue, pulsing like a hot brand, needing to escape, and then, I had stopped myself. 

Because she was staring down at me like I put the stars in the sky, her eyes large and dark, and suddenly, in that moment, I didn’t know how much of this was her, and how much was me, the smell of smoke burning my nostrils and my throat with every inhale I took. 

I watched a slight blush replace the flush on her cheeks, and then she ducked her head, and I saw it in that moment, the shame, the embarrassment, and everything inside of me ached, cried out, begging me to say it back. 

And I wanted to, fuck, I’d wanted nothing more, because I’d dreamed about her saying those words to me, every night since I met her, since I knew I wanted to say it to her, but I held myself back, and she slid off me, and darted for the safety of the bathroom without another word. 

I could taste the regret instantly, like acid, on the back of my tongue. 

Fuck. 

I took my time getting up, focusing on slowing my breathing, on steadying my heartbeat, on pushing the three little words back-down, down, down-so they wouldn’t escape, and by the time I entered the bathroom, she was no longer blushing, but she kept her eyes downturned from me, cleaning herself up without raising her gaze, cool, detached, focused. 

I leaned against the doorway for support, and when she looked up to meet my gaze in the mirror, I forced the words out. 

“Listen-” 

Listen to what? My poor attempt at excuses? My lame ideology that makes me sound like nothing short of a selfish asshole? 

She huffed a laugh under her breath, and I saw it, the hurt in her gaze that she was so desperately trying to hide. 

My stomach dropped at the slight betrayal on her face before she schooled her expression. 

I’d hurt her, and I knew it. 

“It’s fine. Don’t say anything. Just forget it.” 

She forces a smile onto her lips, twisting them upward, and I feel a dagger twisting with them, straight into the depths of my chest. 

How the hell do I explain something like this to her? 

I love you, but I can’t say it back, and it’s only because I don’t want to hurt you. Ironic, right? Because I’ve already clearly fucking done that. 

I nod and move past her to wash my hands. Her faint floral scent sticks in my nose, and I suddenly feel like I’m choking. 

She turns to leave, and that’s when I say, “I can’t tell you what you want to hear.” 

She freezes, hand on the doorknob, and I instantly wince. 

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Fucking stupid. 

That hadn’t come out how I wanted it to in the slightest. It sounded like rejection, and that was so far from the actual truth that it was laughable. 

She doesn’t turn around, but when she speaks, her voice is wavering, like she’s on the verge of tears, and my chest completely caves in. 

“What?” 

I turn, leaning against the counter, and stare so hard at her back that I feel I could burn holes through her skin-her perfect, warm skin, rising and falling with her breaths. 

“You know what I mean.” 

She doesn’t reply, and I see her fingers tremble on the knob. 

Why am I still talking? Why? 

I don’t know, but I can’t seem to stop. 

“Why’d you say it?” 

Did I do this? Did HE do this? Did we force you into something you weren’t ready for? How can I be sure?

She turns now, brow furrowed in open confusion, like she can’t believe why I’d even ask something like that in the first place, and then asks right back, voice hurt, “Why wouldn’t I say it?” 

I blow out the breath I’ve been holding, harsh and irritated, more so with myself than her, and her gaze hardens, crossing her arms over her chest as she stares me down. I see the stubborn flickers of anger in her eyes and her alpha start to raise its head. 

“Why didn’t you say it?” 

Because I’m a coward. Because I’m not positive you really meant it. Because I’m not even sure you want this. Because I’m so terrified of forcing someone into something against their will that I run the opposite direction as soon as someone opens up to me. Because the deep feelings I have for you scare the absolute shit out of me, and if this all turns out to be fake, then I’m not sure I’ll be able to hold myself back from falling to pieces. 

But instead of voicing any of the thoughts in my head, I pinch my nose and say, frustration washing into my words, “Don’t make this emotional.” 

Stupid, stupid, so fucking stupid. 

I see the flash of a fight return to her eyes, and god, I’ve always loved that about her. 

“Excuse me?” She grits out between her teeth, anger flaring. “Don’t make this ‘emotional’?” 

I physically have to stop myself from grimacing as she throws my callous words back in my face. 

“You know what I mean.” 

I step around her to leave the bathroom, because that’s one thing I’m good at, running away from anything that even remotely appears emotional, how fucking lucky. 

“Pretty sure I don’t. Why don’t you explain it to me?” Her voice rings with barely contained rage, her words shaking.

She follows me, standing in the doorway, eyes flashing defiantly as I try not to look at her and pull on my discarded shorts. 

The room is starting to smell like a crisp winter morning, and I’m honestly expecting to see my breath frosting when I next speak. 

I’m getting angry now, my chest tight, my skin hot, and when I whirl to face her this time, I can’t stop the words from leaving my lips in a stinging targeted rebuke. 

She didn’t get it. And that’s my fault, because I didn’t even try to explain it to her, but still, could she fucking give me some room to breathe for just one goddamn minute? 

“Sometimes it’s not that fucking deep, okay, (Y/N)? Sometimes it just is what it is!” I grate out, hands clenching at my sides, my vision swimming with hot, molten rage. 

I wanted to hurt her with my words, and by the look on her face, I’d gotten my wish. 

She stands there like a statue, staring at me in angry disbelief. 

“Me telling you I love you isn’t ‘that fucking deep’?” 

I stare at the ceiling. I’m a fucking prick, an asshole of the worst kind. 

Finally I meet her glare and say tiredly, “Don’t (Y/N).” 

Because I know this isn’t on her, but I’m backed into a corner, and I need a fucking minute, or a night, or something to get my head back on straight. 

I can’t do this right now, not with her expression telling me I’ve ruined everything. 

“Don’t what?” She retorts, shoving past me to grab her clothes, and I watch helplessly as she tugs on her pants and throws out over her shoulder, “Oh, right, don’t make this emotional because it’s not that fucking deep and I’m just a stupid girl who said a stupid thing and has stupid feelings that you don’t reciprocate.” 

She’s wrong, so wrong, but I can’t tell her that. 

“(Y/N)-” I try again, and she whirls on me so fast I almost take a step back. 

“Don’t.” She seethes, eyes narrowing, lips pressed into a thin line. “Don’t talk to me like I’m a child you’re disappointed with.” 

The only one here I’m disappointed with is me, but I don’t say that, instead, I keep my mouth shut and school my expression. 

“Fine.” 

“Fine.” She spits back in my face, stalking past me and out of the bedroom. 

I follow her, and against my better judgement, I catch her wrist before she can walk out the door. 

She glares at me, daggers in her eyes, and I don’t blame her one bit. 

“Let me go.” 

I shake my head, panic suddenly settling into the cavity of my chest as I stare at her. 

I can’t let her go, not like this. 

I need to explain, I need to just-

“No.” 

Her gaze darkens, and the air spikes with frost. 

“Changbin. Let. Me. Go.” 

She’s not backing down, but neither will I. 

I shake my head, harder this time, and match her glare, toe to toe. 

“Not until we talk about this like adults.” 

She scoffs, her lips pulling into a snarl, and I admit, it sounds stupid, especially coming from me. 

“There’s nothing to talk about. You made that incredibly clear.” 

Had I? That’s not what I had meant, not in the slightest, but things were twisted in the anger of the moment, and it’s not that I didn’t want to talk about it, just that I didn’t know how to talk about it. 

“No, I said I couldn’t tell you what you wanted to hear-” 

The phrase hurts falling from my lips again, and I see her visibly wince before she rolls her eyes violently. 

“Oh my god.” She huffs a humorless laugh, sharp and stuck in her throat. “Can you please not repeat your obvious rejection over and over? Kinda sucks.” 

That’s what I’d been afraid of. That’s not what I was doing. None of this was a rejection of her or her feelings, just a reflection on me, a coward, a gutless fake. 

Anger boiled in the pit of my stomach-at her misunderstanding, at my stupidity, at this whole fucking situation. 

I feel my expression harden, and my voice is sharp, as I start to say, “I’m not-” 

She cuts me off before I can get another word out. 

“Oh you’re not? Then what are you doing, Changbin? Hm? Please, enlighten me.” 

Her tone is stinging, patronizing, but I can feel her shaking where my fingers are looped around her wrist, giving her away, and it makes me want to kneel and beg for her forgiveness, to take it all back. 

But I can’t. So instead, I drop her wrist, and I channel all that guilt into exasperation, into hot anger, and ask bluntly, “Does it change things? Me saying it back?” 

Because it shouldn’t. 

You shouldn’t need three fucking words to know how I really feel about you. 

She stares at me like she’s just been burned, caught off guard by a hot stove. 

“Are you seriously asking me that right now?” 

“Of course I am!” I blurt out, openly frustrated, growling beneath my breath as I try to control the sudden wave of furious exasperation, clenching my hands at my side. ““Because I don’t fucking get it, (Y/N), if it does, because why?” 

I shouldn’t have to say it for you to understand. 

Hurt flashes across her gaze at my raised voice, my scathing question, and she takes a small step toward me, her body visibly trembling. 

When she speaks, her voice is small, resigned, tired. 

“It changes things, because right now, I don’t know where I stand.” 

I stare at her, unblinking, because I don’t really know how to take what I’m hearing. 

She doesn’t know where she stands without me saying it back to her? Everything I’ve done to show her, everything I’m still doing to show her, and she refuses to get it, won’t think I’m serious, until I repeat back what she admitted to me? Why does it matter? That’s fucking ridiculous. 

“Where you stand?” I repeat her words back to her in disbelief, hoping she’ll hear how stupid they sound. “You stand where you always have! Why does that have to change?” 

With me. You stand with me, you always have, and you always will. Because I can’t live without you. 

She heaves a sigh and reaches for the doorknob. 

“Whatever. This is clearly not working. I’m leaving. Just forget about it.” 

Without thinking, my fingers find their place back on her wrist. 

“Let go of my fucking wrist, Changbin.” 

Her voice is icy, her tone deadly. 

I don’t back down. 

Two can play at this game, baby girl. 

“You wanna know why it matters?” She hisses at me after another moment of silence, stepping forward, her chest brushing my own, as we both heave angry, impassioned breaths. 

Her eyes flash as she meets my gaze. 

“It matters, because right now, what we’re doing here?” She motions to me, and her fingers brush my chest, and I try not to wish it back to the way it was, to the way she touched me before, before all the shit hit the fan and I’d fucked up everything. “Could mean absolutely nothing more than an easy lay-not a single fucking thing.”

She thought that? She really thought so little of me? That I’d jerk her around for months, fake a relationship, just for an easy lay? Just to get my dick wet? 

Fuck, the anger was inescapable now. 

I felt my lip curve into the start of a humorless smirk, the sneer flashing across my teeth. 

I lean into her space, so close our lips are almost brushing, because she’s hurt me, and now I want to hurt her. 

I hold her gaze, making sure she’s listening, and drop my tone into a growl. 

My smoke overtakes her floral frost easily, choking out the air around us. 

“And you think if someone tells you what you want to hear, that that changes things? You’re a goddamn fool if you think that changes anything.” 

Hurt flashes beneath the anger on her face, and we stare each other down for another charged moment of silence, before she turns away and leaves without another word, slamming the door behind her. 

I watch her go, and I don’t call her back. 

*****

I pull up to the frat house, the party still going at high volume, and head inside, shoving past the guy at the door who tries to stop me without a word. I glance around at the milling college students, looking for anyone who looks out of place, and head toward the kitchen. 

As I reach the doorway, I hear a guy’s voice from inside say angrily, “That bitch’ll pay if she ever shows her face around here again.” 

I smile dangerously to myself and crack my knuckles. 

Bingo. 

I step into the dimly lit kitchen and the three guys lounging against the counters beside the sink immediately look up at me. 

The one in the middle, the tallest one, the one currently holding a bag of frozen peas over the knuckles of one hand, stares me down with a glare. 

“Who the hell are you?” 

“I could ask you the same question.” I reply back easily, not really looking at them, as I walk along the opposite side of the island, running my fingers along the dozens of different types of alcohol they have available for the party selection. 

The guy snorts. “Last I checked, you’re in my house, buddy.” 

“Well.” I skirt around the island and the guy beside the knuckle kid looks nervous at my approach. 

I almost grin. 

Good, he should be. 

“Last I checked-” I continue, voice low and cool, advancing measuredly, taking my time, like a predator stalking prey. “You put your hands on my girl.” 

Recognition flashes across the middle guy’s face, and anger burns his eyes at my words. 

“Who the fuck-” 

I don’t wait for him to finish. 

I leap forward and tackle him back against the counter, lifting him up and holding him by his throat, his feet dangling, as he struggles in my grasp. 

The bottle of beer he had been holding is knocked onto the floor, shattering at our feet. 

“Isn’t that right?” I ask again, tone calm and casual, as I hold the struggling frat boy up above my head, cocking my brow at him as the hint of a smile comes to my lips. 

I glance at his lackeys, seemingly frozen as they watch me hold their leader like he weighs nothing. 

I’m just now noticing the one guy has a black ring around his eye, and the other’s nose looks more than a little crooked, his nostrils still oozing slowly congealing blood. 

I turn back to the leader with a smirk. 

“Although, it looks to me like she’s the one who kicked your asses.” 

He growls, writhing in my grip, and chokes out, “Get your hands off me, you asshole!” 

One of the goonies gets the courage to move, taking a step toward me, but as soon as his fingers touch my skin, I’m turning on him, pulling leader man with me, leveling him with a deadly glare that instantly has him freezing in place. 

“I wouldn’t if I were you.” 

He steps back. 

“You pricks!” The guy in my hold struggles again, kicking his feet against the cabinets with a hollow sort of sound. “Get him! Do something!” 

“And you-” I shove the kid back against the edge of the sink, as he chokes and coughs for breath as my fingers tighten imperceptibly. I let out a long, calming breath through my nose, considering. “-you’re going to get exactly what you deserve.” 

The kid yelps as I drag him out the open back door and into the backyard of the frat house. 

His goonies don’t follow. 

I drop him and he stumbles at my feet, landing hard in the grass as I loom over him, a wicked smile on my face. 

“Would hate to get that nice kitchen dirty with your blood, hm? It’ll be easier clean up for your friends out here.” 

He scrabbles away from me like a crab, and the sight is almost pathetic enough to make me laugh. Almost. 

Instead, I lean down, grab him by the collar of his expensive looking dress shirt, and set him back on his feet in front of me. 

I note the ripped skin on his hand, and my smile curves dangerously. 

“Stand up when I’m talking to you, kid.” 

And then, I reel back, and punch him directly in the face. 

He crumples onto the grass, blood gushing from his nose and mouth, and I wipe my hand off on my hoodie before turning to head back to the house. 

The goonies move out of my way immediately, terror in their eyes, and then rush behind my back to help their fallen leader. 

I shake out my fist as I walk back to where I’d left the car. It felt nice to punch something again, felt even better to punch a punk ass kid like that who had it coming.

I bite back a grin, shift the car into gear, and leave the frat party behind. 

******

When I get back to my apartment, Hyunjin is curled up in the middle of my bed, watching some sort of drama on the screen of my laptop, a bundle of blankets curled around him. 

I should shower, but I’m suddenly exhausted, and without a word, I climb into the bed next to the omega, looping my arms around his waist and burying my nose in the skin of his throat. 

Hyunjin squirms as my cold hands find the warmth of his belly, and then he glances at me sidelong, a disapproving look on his sharp features. 

“You look terrible.” 

“Thanks.” I mumble, not looking at him. 

He pauses his movie and sits up, ignoring my grumbles as he disturbs the comfortable position I’d found, and reaches out to trace a gentle finger beneath my eyes. 

“You haven’t been sleeping.” 

I shrug, picking at a loose string on the comforter that lays over his body. 

He sighs, and the scent of lemons fills my nose, making my body relax, because Hyunjin has always had that effect on me. He’s always been a safe space, someone I can talk to, when no one else will listen. 

I open my mouth, then shut it again, deciding what to say. 

Finally, I say, “I fucked up.” 

He doesn’t say anything, just continues to stare until I sigh and roll on my back, staring at the ceiling. I don’t look at him as I continue. 

“With (Y/N).” 

He props his chin in his hand and his gaze softens slightly. 

I go on. 

“She told me she loved me, and I didn’t say it back.” 

Hyunjin breathes for a moment, the rise and fall of his chest keeping my gaze and mind centered, and then he asks gently, “Because of the rule?” 

I nod. “Because of the rule.” 

He sighs again, and leans his head onto my shoulder. I bury my nose in his hair, he smells like shampoo and gel and lemonade, and close my eyes for a brief moment while he thinks. 

Finally, he breaks the silence with, “Do you remember when you said it back to me the first time?” 

His question catches me off guard, but I do, I do remember, just like it was yesterday. 

I nod. 

He smiles, I feel it against the skin of my neck, and then he cocks his head, meeting my gaze from his position against my shoulder somewhat cheekily. 

“Okay, so why’d you break the rule with me?” 

I scoff, ignoring his question as I shrug and frantically scramble for an explanation. 

“That was different! We’d known each other a long time before, and you said it a lot of times before that, and I knew you couldn’t be swayed by fucking biology at that point and I just-” I shrug again, somewhat helplessly, and trail off, rubbing at the back of my neck awkwardly.

Hyunjin sits up and pins me down with his stare, his dark eyes serious. 

“But it’s not different. And you know it.” I did know it, just like I knew I fucked up. 

I sigh heavily and admit, “I know. You’re right.” 

He smiles, sympathetically this time, and leans over to place his soft, long fingers over my own. 

“Let her have some time, some space. But then you have to make it right.” 

I nod, knowing he’s right, and he snuggles back up against me, under the blankets, and resumes his drama. 

I fall asleep with the smell of lemons in my nose. 

****

 I’m not necessarily surprised when she shows up at my door the next day, but I’d thought that she still needed space, and I would have to be the one to first approach, getting to my knees and offering an apology. 

It was the least she deserved.

But here she was, coming into my room and sitting down beside my bed like she belonged there. 

And she did. I’d always known it. 

I glanced quickly at her and then back to my manga, like I was scared to scare her off by looking too long, and we sat in silence for several moments, me flipping pages, her staring at the floor beneath her sneakers. 

Finally, she asked quietly, “What happened to your hand?” 

I flicked my gaze down to the knuckles of my hand, bruising from yesterday’s encounter, and shrugged casually. 

I’d actually forgotten about them till she brought it up. 

“Just some stupid frat boys.” I repeated her words from that night, hoping she’d get the hidden meaning there, as I turned back to reading my comic. 

I wasn’t disappointed. 

I saw her tuck back a satisfied smile, and my chest warms. 

I drop the manga to the bed with a sigh, and she looks at me from the corner of her eye in slight surprise, but doesn’t move from her curled position by the bed. 

Now or never. 

“Look, I know I should apologize-” 

Wow. Great start. 

She interrupts me before I can say anything else, already shaking her head. 

“You don’t need to apologize.” 

I feel self hatred rear its ugly head in my gut and when I speak, my voice is clipped, angry. 

“Yes I fucking do.” 

I owe you so much more than that. 

She startles me by pushing determinedly up to her knees and leaning over me on the bed, her elbows digging into the mattress beside me. 

The fire is back in her eyes as she smiles ruefully down at me.

It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.  

“No, I’m serious. You don’t need to apologize.” 

I stare at her in open confusion, my brow furrowing, and she gives a little laugh, reaching up to smooth the wrinkle from my brow with her pointer finger. 

God, I’d missed her skin. 

“Don’t look so worried.” She says, forcing lightness into her tone. “I’m not gonna hold this against you forever.” 

My lips pull thin into a grimace, and I feel myself scowl. 

“You should.” It’s the least I deserve. 

She shakes her head, and I get a whiff of sweet floral, my gut clenching. 

“You were right though.” She admits a little ruefully, lips curving. “You don’t have to say it. It doesn’t change anything.” 

No, that’s not right. I hadn’t been right, she had been. 

And it was time to let her know that. 

I push myself up on my elbow, opening my mouth, but she beats me to the punch. 

She suddenly looks nervous, wringing her hands and avoiding my gaze. 

“Look. I get it.” She manages to look at me now, her expression softening. “Why you have a rule about not saying it back.” 

That fucking sneak. 

I growl beneath my breath. “Dammit, Hyunjin. I’m gonna fucking murder him.” 

She laughs, and honest to god, it’s the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard. 

And then she meets my gaze, and all the breath leaves my lungs in one fell swoop. 

“No, it makes sense. And while I totally get it, I do, I also don’t think you should worry about forcing me into doing anything or saying something against my will just because of some stupid pheromones.”

She holds my eye, and I can’t breathe. 

Her breath quivers on the intake, and her chest rises and falls rapidly in quick succession. 

“Because I’m already pretty hopelessly fucking in love with you as it is, and I don’t think any amount of biology is gonna change that.” 

I stare at her, my mind blank, and then I laugh. 

It feels so fucking good, I can’t seem to stop, even though she’s staring at me like I’m crazy. 

I say the first thing that comes to mind. 

“So you meant it then.” 

She shoots me a less than fiery glare and balls her hands into tiny fists, crossing her arms over her chest in an attempt to look cross, but I think she’s probably the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.

“Of course I fucking meant it! Why do you think I got so pissed off when I thought you were rejecting me?” 

Thought you were rejecting me. 

Ah. She gets it now. 

I smile teasingly. “But I told you I wasn’t.” 

And I never would. I never will. Because I’ve never wanted anything more than I want you. Please believe me. 

She throws up her hands in an adorable show of exasperation. 

“Yeah, okay! I get that now, but I was a little too devastated to consider it in the moment!” 

I don’t wait another second. I tug her down on top of me, and she lets out a little squeak of surprise as she topples forward into my arms, her nose going into the skin of my throat. 

She’s warm and she smells like a flower patch after an early frost, and god, I think I’ve never felt this good. 

I place my fingers gently on her cheekbones, and tug her back, just enough so I can see her eyes, the long dark lashes brushing her cheeks as she stares up at me. 

God, she’s beautiful. 

And then, I explain. Like I should’ve the first time. 

“I’m sorry that I made you think any of that. I’m sorry that I hurt you by being a stupid asshole. I’m sorry that you ever thought I didn’t feel the same exact way about you that you feel about me.” His lips curve up into the start of a smirk. “And I’m also sorry that you didn’t get to watch me kick those frat boys’ asses to hell and back, but I’m not sorry I did it.” 

She laughs, the sound thick, like she’s holding back tears, and swipes at her eyes with her hand. 

“I’m also sorry I didn’t get to see that.” 

I’m honestly sorry I didn’t get to see her kick their asses too. 

Another time. 

She buries her nose back in the skin of my throat, comfortingly close to my scent gland, and I feel a contented rumble building in my chest at the feel of her warm body against mine, my arms full of her, the air thickening with wisteria and the flickering flames of a campfire. 

I take in a deep breath, bury my nose in her hair, and admit softly, “Also. I had a rule. But I think it’s about time I start living a little less by the rulebook, and a little bit more by the trust you all seem to have in me, however misguided.” 

I can feel the way she smiles against my skin, matching my own as I bite it back behind my teeth as she pulls back to look at me once more. 

I arch a brow at her. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t say it back. But I can say it now, if you want?” 

And I want to, because suddenly, Hyunjin is right, and it’s not different at all. 

She shakes her head, laughing slightly. 

“It’s not gonna change anything important.” 

And she’s right, it won’t. Not my feelings for her, or our relationship, or the comfort that comes from having her in my arms. 

But she’s important, and that’s enough for me. 

So I put my finger under her chin and raise her gaze to mine, and I let my fingertips carefully, slowly, trace the outline of her perfect, full lips, then gently draw over the bruising that trickles over her jaw, and I marvel, once again, at how lucky I am. 

“I know.” I let my eyes meet her own, and she’s staring at me so openly, nothing to hide, everything on display. “But what if I want to?” 

And I do.

She lets out a breath and then breathes out, eyes never leaving my own, “Okay.” 

I lean in and let my lips brush her cheek, so she can feel my words on her skin, inside of her, feel their truth and sincerity. 

And then I toss everything aside-all the fear and the expectations and the rules-and I say it because I mean it. 

“I love you too.” 

She gives me a sly, sidelong glance, and the corners of her lips perk. 

“My alpha pheromones didn’t make you say that, did they?” 

I growl teasingly and tackle her back into my arms, keeping her in place as I tickle her mercilessly and she giggles, making weak attempts to escape. 

“No fucking pheromones were used.” I say softly, against the soft skin of her throat, and everything inside of my soars, because I’m confident. It’s true. She loves me. 

“No pheromones were used.” She repeats back like a promise, just between the two of us, smiling up at me, and then she leans in and connects our lips, and all the previous rules go out the window. 

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

💗 Taglist:

@hosh1kwon

@carolinexkpop@blithevix

@sunabokuto

@wildflower-at-heart@faericals@5sos-wdw@hyuneyeon

@studyingthemind@illicee

@maddmartian

@binnie--baby

@xwinchesterprincessx@ley-lani59

@lady---boner

@rosegaming117@meivida

@sai-kida134

@cutecucumberkimberly

@aroseharder

@spideyweirdo

@coureurs-de-bois9

@unfiltered-starlight@sixswaggy

@shimmeringmoons22

@thatgirlangelb

@beautifulcolorgarden

@runningthroughlifestay@dearalice@patat-boi@stay-berry

@laylasbunbunny

@misxing-you

@sawadabegum

@changbinsrightboob

@maliamaiden@sunnibearr@bkirsted@jamlou512

@latinxmochi@goquokka

@leeknowsw0rldd@yoongihan

@simeonswhore

@rubberduckieyourtheone

@chanlovesme

@janvibutbetter

@starlostjimin /

@vampcharxter

@dadonbabysworld

@cursed-mars-bars@lexiluness@nanaberry6

@yoongisleftearring@seoulsaver

@leeyanyanyaaan@septicrebel

@peppermint-tea-life

@ashcapybara

@thesingingelephant@ksho123

@bangchanwhore

@im-sinking-in-mud@nxahlxl

@peachbokkie@pretty-blkgirl

@bokkierachacha

@richardofyork@neohyxn

@dumplinbokkieracha

@dreamingsmile

[zutaralesbian]

I was technically not tagged (which is fair. I haven’t been super active in the Gallavich fandom for a while). But this game is super up my alley so I’m doing it anyway 😊

rules (more or less): use this au generator to assign you an au, this fan fiction trope generator to give you a trope/situation/sometimes another au, feel free to keep clicking until you get something that inspires you.

then try to come up with the title, plot, vibe, and details of a fic including whatever the generators gave you. you don’t actually have to write it, just put the concept into the world! this is basically just a thought experiment.

I got:

AU: Shipwrecked AU

Trope: Write a modern royalty AU

The Gallaghers are a royal family from some European country. (Possibly somewhere in the UK or a made up one idk). They’re notorious because of the antics and scandals of their father, King Francis, and the whole world is basically waiting for him to finally get himself killed and for the eldest, Princess Fiona, to become queen.

Prince Ian, frankly, is glad that he is two people behind from ever becoming king. Being a prince in the public is bad enough with having to keep his sexuality on the down-low. Not to mention he always has the fear of his true parentage one day being leaked to the press. (In this AU, he is secretly Clayton’s biological son just like in canon).

The Gallagher siblings decide to take a break from the scandalous life the castle brings them by going on a long cruise on their private yacht.

Mickey is hired to work on the ship as a deckhand during the cruise. At first he didn’t want to take the job because working under a bunch of prissy rich royals was the last thing he wanted to do. But he eventually talked himself into it because hey, the pay is decent and it would mean a good month of being away from Terry. (And if he played his cards right, maybe he could find a few jewels or other expensive shit to snag).

Ian meets Mickey on the ship and is smitten immediately. There’s something about Mickey’s grumpy exterior that just charms him. Being a prince, he’s always had to be careful about his hookups not getting exposed. But they were on a ship and away from the general public. Perfect timing to have a fun fling, right? Only, Mickey doesn’t seem super receptive to his flirtation. Maybe his assumptions that Mickey wasn’t straight were off?

Mickey can’t tell if Ian is flirting with him out of genuine interest or just to be a cocky asshole. Either way, he’s not falling for it. Fuck him for thinking just because he’s a prince that Mickey will fall into bed with him. Sure Ian doesn’t seem all bad and is definitely less irritating than the other Gallaghers. And sure Mickey gets this annoying, fluttery feeling in his chest whenever the fucker smiles at him. But whatever, it doesn’t mean anything.

The ship ends up sinking of course, due to some sort of accident. Everyone makes it onto a lifeboat except Mickey. The worst part? He never learned to properly swim. Ian, having ended up in his own lone lifeboat, spots Mickey struggling in the water and quickly rows over to his aid, grabbing him and pulling him onto the lifeboat.

The tides separate Ian and Mickey from the others. They eventually find themselves on a small tropical island. And there are no other people.

Ian is panicked. Having grown up as a royal, he never learned proper skills to survive in a situation like this. Mickey, however, has grown up teaching himself survival skills and sets out to work on getting them shelter and food. He includes Ian in on all his plans because, as annoying as the guy may be, he did save Mickey from drowning and Mickey supposes he owes him for that. And right now, all they had was each other.

They eventually get themselves a pretty decent setup. They create a fort for them to sleep and take shelter from the sun in. There’s a stream a little further into the forest where they can get fresh water. And their diet consists of fish from the ocean, fruit, and small animals they hunt on the island. Mickey teaches Ian as they go.

Once the threat of death is for the most part evaded they begin to bond. After all, what else do they really have to do besides talk? Ian opens up to Mickey about the pressure he feels being a closeted gay man in the royal family. And eventually, tells Mickey his biggest secret-he isn’t really King Francis’ son.

Mickey in turn tells Ian about his life growing up under Terry’s thumb and his own dark secret. About how Terry once caught him with a boy when he was a teenager and was nearly beat to death.

Horrified by Mickey’s story, Ian makes a silent vow that, if they ever got off the island, he would come out to the public and use his fame and image to become an activist for gay kids who could be suffering the way Mickey did.

Mickey for his part makes a promise to himself that if he got off the island, he would finally leave Terry behind once and for all and make a new life for himself. Even if it means leaving the south side.

Months go by and they of course begin to fall in love. And both of them start to wonder…maybe being on the island isn’t all that terrible. It somehow becomes a solace and escape from the drama of their normal lives. And here, it’s just the two of them. They can finally be themselves.

They do eventually get discovered and rescued. The news of Prince Ian Gallagher being found alive on an island months after the family’s yacht sank becomes huge news. And Mickey somehow gets painted as a hero-the ordinary citizen who helped their beloved prince survive months on an uninhabited island. The Gallaghers are so grateful to Mickey for keeping Ian alive that they give him a large sum of money. Mickey doesn’t want to accept it at first but Ian convinces him to use the money to begin building his new life away from Terry.

Ian and Mickey reluctantly go their separate ways. No matter how they feel about each other, Ian is a prince and has an image to uphold. Mickey knows that Ian already has enough shit to deal with being closeted and having to keep his true parentage under wraps. The last thing he needs is to be tied to a south side thug. It’s better for them to say goodbye, or so he tells himself.

Some time goes by and Ian eventually reaches his breaking point. He misses Mickey and, as much as he loves his family, he’s never fully fit in the royal life anyway. He finally does what he promised himself while on the island and writes and publishes an article where he comes out as gay. And at the end of the article, he officially announces his intent to abdicate his title of prince.

Though Ian never name drops Mickey in the article, a lot of the public had already romanticized their relationship from the island story and assume Ian is abdicating so he can be with him.

Mickey is sitting in his new apartment and watching the news. His jaw drops when he see’s a story about the famed Prince Ian Gallagher coming out as gay and leaving the royal life behind. But before he has a chance to fully react, there’s a knock on his front door.

Ian is at the door. And he smiles at Mickey before asking if his apartment has enough room for two.

[imabillyami]

I said I didn’t like last night’s RAW. Rambling about some of my reasons/frustrations under the cut. 

Finn’s attacks on Seth are getting old, like… Play a new tune pls. Seth isn’t stupid, very much the opposite, so him not learning from his “mistakes” after weeks of Finn attacking him? They’re making him look like an idiot who can’t defend himself 🙃 

Becky being the one standing tall when the history of MITB matches shows that the last person standing tall doesn’t win. If she doesn’t, at least give it to Iyo?

The lack of deep and meaningful creative for the entire women’s division. What year is it again? There’s so much potential with Damage Control and others and it’s so frustrating that they’re not doing anything with that. 

Ronda Rousey. I don’t think I have to elaborate, we’re pretty much all on the same page here. She fucking sucks, is highly overrated and is holding the division and the titles hostage when she should be out on her ass. (Please free Shayna from her, I’m begging you. She could be so much more than a pin-eater for that woman.)

Damien constantly being used as a punching bag for everyone when he deserves that singles push 🙃

Don’t get me started on Kevin and Sami. They’re being turned into everyone and their mum’s side kicks without having much of an own story. There’s a lack of creative for them and it’s pissing me off. These guys are your TAG CHAMPS ffs! They are being used to push Cody and Riddle and pretty much everyone else around and I’m very much annoyed. A couple of months ago Sami basically beat Roman clean (if the ref bump didn’t happen) and now he’s back to eating pins left and right. (I’m not just talking Gunther here, I enjoy Gunther and Imperium and I liked the match itself, but ugh). And while I love Kevin’s anger issue thingy, it’s really the only thing they have going for themselves right now and that’s worrisome. I feel like the second they lose these titles they (or at least Sami) are going to get bumped down the card even further. I hate that they’re on RAW and are treated like an afterthought 95% of the time.

I’d love to see a Sami/Gunther feud leading up to an actual PLE, not as a side note on a mediocre episode of RAW where it only serves to push the Gunther/Riddle rivalry. It think Sami vs Gunther could be such a banger if they gave it room to breathe. 

I really really don’t like Riddle. That goes for the character as much as for the guy behind it. I don’t actively dislike many wrestlers (cough Austin Theory cough), but Riddle is definitely on that list. Get that idiot as far away from my Tag champs and any titles as possible please. 

Even though I don’t actively dislike him, add to that list one Cody Rhodes. I appreciate and respect what he did and does for the wrestling industry and I’m sure he’s one of the nicest people on the planet outside of that ring, he just doesn’t click with me and the way they are pushing him… well, I just don’t see it that way. No disrespect to him, sometimes there are people/ characters you just don’t like or click with and he’s a good example for that. His whole “finish the story” thing has been getting on my nerves since long before Wrestlemania 🥲 And sorry, but a lot of the time his acting sucks.

I could go on and on, but those are the major ones, really. In conclusion: Respect your World Heavyweight Champion, respect your Tag Champs, respect your Women’s Division, give people who work their asses off a chance and ffs stop putting titles on Ronda.

[lonely-lost-soul]

“I’m Not Soft.”

Request 5: Techno and the voices simping for the reader, maybe after reader gets in (and wins) a fight or something more domestic like farming or playing with Steve

Requested By: Anonymous 

(Technoblade X Female Reader)

~Added a little bit of spice~

Technoblade kicked the snow off his boots sending little flurries all inside the doorway of his cabin. He had just arrived home, he was coming home much later than he anticipated getting held up at a long-running syndicate meeting. He was greeted by the savory smell of baked potatoes and steak, it had him practically drooling. Techno wandered into the kitchen after hanging up his cloak by the door, his plate was sitting in the furnace. He peeked inside and saw it was set on low heat just to keep his food warm, he smiled softly. 

‘She’s so thoughtful. Keeping it warm for us. We should give her a kiss! Where even is she? Find her before you eat. You can sit together!’ 

Technoblade let out a soft hum of acknowledgment listening to the advice of the voices and searching for his lady love. He stepped into the living room and noticed the fire was roaring away in the fireplace, you were still here then, very early on he made sure you knew to put the fireplace out when you were finished in the room. He had a close call with Tommy when he was living here, and since then he made sure to remind you constantly about the fireplace. He spotted you and Steve curled up next to one another by the said fireplace, you were buried in his white fur and he was snoring away loudly beside you. A book was in your lap and you were wearing one of his shirts as a pajama top, socks with little bears on them adorned your feet. 

‘Oh my god, they’re so cute together. Take a picture! Take a picture! She looks so peaceful…’

Technoblade smiled gently making sure he did end up snapping a picture, just so he could tease you about it later. Plus you were adorable and you snuggling with Steve really melted his frozen heart, 

‘SIMP!’ 

     “You guys are doing the same thing shut up.” He growled under his breath finally walking over to you, Steve cracked his eyes open and let out a low snarl before comprehending who stood in front of him. Once he recognized The Blade he let out a disgruntled huff before falling back asleep, his movement caused you to stir. Technoblade watched as you rub the sleep from your eyes, before running your hands through your messy hair. “Morning Princess,” He cooed squatting down beside you. You blinked blearily at him for a moment before a smile lit up your face, you moved quickly wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He couldn’t help but smile in response to the hug, his hands were placed on his lower back as he squeezed.

‘So small and cute. Just like a little kitten.~ Can you give her a kiss now? I’m tired of asking for a kiss just do it. Stop making him sound like a simp. Wait look she’s pulling away-’

You pressed a kiss to his lips murmuring a weak, ‘welcome home Protesilaus.’ He shivered a little at the use of his Greek title and gave you a kiss back. 

     “Did you make me dinner?” You hummed nodded your head sleepily, “You spoil me, Princess.” He cupped your cheek with his hand and you nuzzled into it, you looked blissful. 

     “Only cause you deserve it, big guy. Want me to sit with you while you eat.” 

     “If you’re up for it.” Another kiss was pressed against the side of his lips and he purred fondly. You giggled a little and he flushed darkly, “Don’t laugh at me that’s cringe.”

     “Not laughing at you, I just love it when you purr. You’re like a big lion, who’s only soft for me.” He scoffed with an eye roll, 

     “I’m soft to no one.” 

     “Sure you’re not Tech.” You gently pat his cheek before standing up and cracking your back, Technoblade stood up beside you. The both of you walked into the kitchen, you sat at the table while he grabbed his meal. He dug in and his eyes fluttered, 

     “This is so good, god I’m so glad you’re my girlfriend.” 

     “Just for the cooking?” You teased fluttering your eyes at him and he looked thoughtful for a moment, 

     “Well, that and the great se-” You let out an indignant sound interrupting his sentence you went so red it even spread to your ears. Technoblade laughed loudly, “You’re so adorable when you’re flustered,” a smirk spread across his lips. 

‘We got her. Oh my god, she’s so cute. Awwww she’s embarrassed what a sweetheart. You should pinch her cheeks. Show her what we mean- DON’T BE GROSS. He was gross first though!’

     “You’re a terror,” You scoffed fanning your hot face with your hand trying to cool yourself down. 

     “Exactly and don’t you forget it, Princess.” He had a soft pink flush across his cheeks as you flipped him off, “Maybe later.”

     “Techno!” You squawked as he roared with laugher, “What is with you tonight!?”

     “I just missed you. I’ve been away from you all day can you blame me?”

     “I suppose not…” You trailed off smiling softly over at him and he smiled right back at you. “I’m going to head to bed, you coming or what?”

     “I’m right behind you.” He hummed placing his plate in the sink before following you up the stairs. 

The next morning was dedicated solely to you, not only because Technoblade wanted to but also because the voices just wanted to stay close to you. Your head was tightly tucked underneath his chin as he watched you sleep. The rise and fall of your chest was hypnotic and he placed his hand on your chest feeling your heartbeat flutter against his hand. He smiled watching you wake up for a second time with a sweet yawn, he kissed your nose as you regained consciousness. You snickered softly giving him a kiss right back, “Morning Techno.” 

     “Morning Princess,” He greeted, “I was wondering if you wanted to walk Steve with me today.”  

     “I’d love nothing more,” you smiled warmly “on one condition.”

     “And that would be?” Technoblade raised an eyebrow, his hand gently stroking your hip. 

      “I get to wear your cape.” His face scrunched up with disgust, 

      “My cape is sacred, you know this.”

      “I promise I’ll take really good care of it. Please for your wonderful and stunning girlfriend.” 

      “Eh?” He muttered as you batted your eyelashes at him, and despite his original distaste the voices melted seeing your face. 

‘She’s so cute. Adorable, look at those big ole eyes. Tell her she’s cute! Love of our life truly. She’s a teasing little shit ain’t she? Let her wear the cape, what's the harm?’

       “Cringe,” Technoblade said instead and the voices groaned loudly in his ears, he watched your face settle into a pout. He clicked his tongue annoyed at your pout, “come or don’t either way I gotta walk Steve- oof-“ Technoblade grunted as you sat down on his hips glaring at him. 

      “Give me the cape now.” You glared into his eyes, hands gripping onto his shoulders, his eyes lit up with amusement. 

     “Oh, you taking charge here Princess? I don’t mind if you think you can handle me.” The voices and he relished in the way your entire face turned red and you rested your forehead on his neck. 

    “You’re impossible but I’m still taking your fucking cape cringe-lord.”

     “Nerd.” He mused with a fond kiss to your lips, “but fine. I suppose you can borrow it.” Technoblade relented with a small smile, as your entire face lit up like the sun. 

‘Worth it. That smile! Be still my heart! She’s going to look so adorable. Trust us Techno you made the correct choice.’

He rolled his eyes and watched you tilt your head to the side, “The voices?” Technoblade gave a little nod. 

      “They’re being stupid.”

‘STUPID! FUCK OFF! WE’RE HELPING YOU SCORE!’

      “What’re they saying?” 

Sweat gathered on Technoblade’s brow, well now he couldn’t say they were complimenting you. He’d look like such an asshole. 

        “Nothing important.” He tried to cover himself up quickly and you gave a little smirk of your own. “Shut up don’t-“

       “Aw, do they like me?~” You cooed pinching the man’s cheek. “I love them too, they’re a part of you after all.” Now it was Technoblade’s turn to flush red all over if the voices weren’t gushing before they were now. 

‘Kiss her oh my god kiss her. We love her too! Tell her that right now! She needs to know! Bark bark bark bark! Everyone here is a simp. I’m the only one with a brain cell. Technooooooo tell her pleaaaaaseeeee.’

      “They Ugh...they want me to tell you they love you too.” He watched you smile again, “they also want me to give you a kiss.”

       “Well tell them I accept their kiss.”

       “Oh, they know sweetheart believe me.” He leaned forward to capture your lips, he felt you sigh pleasantly against them. His hands moved down to rest on your hips, rubbing gentle circles on them. He tilted his head to deepen the kiss but you pulled away from him, he let out a growl of disagreement. 

        “Oh hush up you grump. We have to feed the bears and dogs, plus if we’re walking Steve we need to get going.” 

       “Tease.” He grunted as you whacked him on the chest, before hopping off his lap to get dressed. He followed you out of bed, as the both of you got ready for the day ahead. You finished before Techno and slid down the ladders to whip up a quick breakfast and feed Steve. By the time Technoblade came downstairs, Steve was happily chowing away and you handed Technoblade two slices of bread. He gave you a quick kiss on the side of his head before shoveling the food into his mouth, he heard you giggle and he raised an eyebrow. “What’re you laughing at exactly?”

     “You’re eating like Steve,” Technoblade made an indignant sound of protest which only caused you to laugh harder. Sometimes he genuinely wondered how he put up with you but then he remembered he loved you and wouldn’t trade you for the world. He only rolled his eyes at you before grabbing Steve’s designated leash and hooking him up to it, the bear let out a huff and his little stub of a tail began to wiggle. “Someone’s excited,” You cooed at the bear scratching under his chin, “My big ole sweetheart.”

     “(Y/n) he’s supposed to be a killing machine please don’t coddle him.”

     “Oh fuck off Techno. Look at his face!” You squished the bear’s cheeks between your hands, “he wouldn’t hurt a fly!” The bear rumbled loudly in his throat but it was more of a pleasant sound than a threatening one. Technoblade raised an eyebrow at the antics before him, 

     “Leave our guard bear alone and go put on your boots.” You huffed but ultimately decided not to be a brat and listen to your boyfriend for once, you stood beside the door as Steve and he wandered up towards you. An eyebrow was raised and he looked you up and down, 

     “What?”

     “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

He watched you slowly blink before patting the sides of your winter jacket, and he chuckled deeply. He took off his cape and draped it across your shoulders, your face lit up and you snuggled into the fluff. It flowed behind you much more than it did when Technoblade wore it, it was swallowing you up. 

‘She’s so precious! We were correct, good job Techno. Such a good, sweet girl. We’re protecting her from the harsh elements! True! You don’t want her to get sick do you?’

Technoblade snapped out of his thoughts as he felt a soft kiss against the side of his cheek, “Thank you Tech, you made my morning.”

     “Anything for you.”

‘We’d kill for her you know. If anyone even looks at her wrong we’ll tear them apart. Guys, could you lighten up a little? Sheesh. Never she’s our stability.’

     “Shall we?” He held out his arm and you wrapped your hand around it snuggling against his side, he really was down bad for you. The both of you stepped out it was a beautiful sunny day the wind only a gentle chill, Techno grunted as Steve eagerly pulled him forward. He heard you laugh as he stumbled down the steps, he shot you a glare over his shoulder and you flipped him off. 

‘Hot.’ 

Technoblade’s face scrunched up in disbelief, “what the hell chat…” he muttered but the heat he felt in his cheeks showed he agreed with the voices. Once again at his side the two of you walked in the direction of Snow Chester, once you both came to the shoreline Technoblade turned towards you. “Would you like to visit L’manhole someday day soon?”

     “Like you even have to ask me that. I’d love to see the damage you caused.”

‘Our little anarchist in training.~ I for one, Can’t wait for her to join the Syndicate. We don’t want her to remember, we want to protect her. Exactly, her joining could put her at risk.’

     “Then we’ll go soon I promise.” 

     “I look forward to it big guy,” You cooed, pressing a feather-light kiss to his lips that sent electricity down to the tips of his toes. He tilted his head deepening the kiss slightly, his hand cupping your cheek, it was so small in his hand. He loved hearing the soft whimper you made against his lips as his tongue slipped into your mouth but the moment was shattered as he heard Steve let out a low warning growl. He rapidly pulled away and shoved you behind his back, he came face to face with BadBoyHalo, the egg cult leader himself. “Is that BBH?” 

     “Looks like it,” Techno muttered as you slipped out from behind him, the demon was in his smaller form and he waved enthusiastically. “Careful Princess,” Techno murmured hesitantly, watching him skip over, “remember the egg.” 

     “I got this Tech, no worries. I’ll be back in a moment alright.” You met Bad halfway and Technoblade shuffled uncomfortably. 

‘Don’t let her go. He’s gonna hurt her. Keep a steady eye. She’s not fragile but eavesdrop just in case. Be careful, and keep alert. Blood for the Blood God. Not yet shut up.’ 

Technoblade clicked his tongue but did eavesdrop on their conversation allowing Steve to sniff at the ground nearby for bugs.

     “(Y/n) my little muffin! How’re you doing?” 

     “I’m doing good Bad! I haven’t seen you in a while, how're you doing? Still doing egg stuff?”

     “Of course silly! That’s why I wanted to visit you.” He grabbed your hands, “I need your help.” He grazed his claws across the back of your hands, Techno watched you raise a suspicious eyebrow. 

‘That’s my girl. Always being suspicious and alert.’ He mentally praised, and the voice agreed with his though,

     “And that help would be what exactly?”

     “You need to convince Techno to give the egg a second chance!” You stared at him blankly and Technoblade tried not to laugh. 

     “Bad, you’re one of my good friends but I fucking hate the egg too.” His smile faltered a little bit and Technoblade’s hand went to the sword on his hip. Bad’s smile quickly returned and cupped your cheeks,

     “Language dear.” He scolded his smile turning strained, “this just means I need to introduce you to the egg silly! It’s going to love you,” 

     “Bad No.” He began to squeeze your face, nails digging into the flesh of your cheeks. Your eyes flashed with fear and Technoblade was about to step forward and intervene but skidded to a halt as he watched you knee Bad in the stomach. Technoblade’s jaw fell open, as you grabbed Bad’s arm as he bent over in pain and flipped him over your shoulder slamming his back into the snow and dirt. Bad let out a pained sound, but all Technoblade could focus on was the way his cape flew to the side with a flourish as you recovered. Your hair stuck to your cheeks as you glowered at the demon, “Don’t touch me.” You stood up, looking more regal than Techno’s ever seen you look, “Go home Bad, and don’t come back till you’ve sorted yourself out. This egg thing has really fucked with your head.” You walked back over towards Techno and smirked at him the fire in your eyes still burning bright. You brought a hand towards his face and you closed Technoblade’s jaw with your finger, “You’re going to catch flies babe.” His jaw snapped shut as you winked at him, you took Steve from his hand and began to walk away. 

‘Damn the cape’s covering her ass. THAT’S WHAT YOU’RE FOCUSING ON?! SHE JUST FLIPPED BADBOYHALO LIKE HE WAS A SACK OF POTATOES! NO FUCKS GIVEN! Stop screaming you’re too loud. Get me a woman who can flip me like that. God, I love strong women. Techno go make out with her right now don’t let her get away with that! We made the right choice with her, maybe she should join the Syndicate. Yeah but then seeing this side wouldn’t be as special-’

     “Tech you coming?” You called over your shoulder, 

‘Yes ma’am. Anything for you. Such a tease.’

He said nothing but followed in your footsteps, hands twitching at his sides, desperately trying to ignore the way the voices purred and begged for him to make out with you right here in the snow. 

As soon as you removed the collar from around Steve’s neck, and hung it back in it’s place by the door Technoblade pushed you up against the wall. You gave a squeak in surprise that he absolutely relished in, maybe he was a little bit of a sadist. His cape fell from your shoulders with a soft clatter as he roughly pressed his lips to yours, he watched your eyes droop closed before closing his eyes as well. “That was the hottest thing we’ve ever fucking seen,” He growled against your lips hoisting you up so that your legs wrapped around his waist. 

     “We?” You said breathlessly as his kisses moved from your lips and down to your neck, 

     “The voices.” He nipped at the skin between your shoulder and neck, enjoying the way your breath hitched in your throat. 

     “Oh,” was all you managed to get out letting your head fall back against the wall with a soft thump. Techno snickered against the burning skin on your neck, you whined a little before meekly murmuring, “Don’t stop. Please Technoblade.” 

‘Well, you heard the little lady. Don’t stop Technoblade. Make her beg some more first. Agreed, that’s what she gets for teasing us after all. Give the girl what she wants already. Who are we to deny her when she looks like that? We live to please one person and that’s her.’

Technoblade panted softly, throughout his life he was never one to deny giving the voices what they wanted. Especially when that something was you.  

[saintshigaraki]

THESE ARE HARD TIMES FOR DREAMERS

title from bones by ms mr

pairing: yandere nanami kento x f!reader

word count: 2.6k

excerpt: You wish you’d studied the stars more, ingrained them so deeply into your psyche that you’d carry the night sky with you, always. 

You wish they’d never been stolen from you in the first place.

a/n: nanami if ur reading this i’m free thursday night. 

tags: yandere, angst, reader is once again full of rage, nanami love what have you done, overuse of the word hate

warnings: yandere tendencies, obsessive and possessive behavior, slight infantilization, noncon/dubcon, gaslighting (?), kidnapping, slight stockholm syndrome, mention of past suicide attempt 

MDNI!

You can’t exactly pinpoint where it all went south. There’s not a specific date that stands out to you when you actively noticed things taking a turn for the worst. It’s like that fable. About the frog slowly being boiled alive. Except, in this case, the frog is you and the boiling water is Nanami. And in this case, this is not some story your mom used to read to you about the dangers of gradual escalation, it’s your life. If you can even call this monotonous hell you’re living a life. 

You’ve got to hand it to him, you really didn’t see it coming. Nanami’s always been smart like that. Even now, after everything, or maybe even especially now, after everything, you can’t deny that. 

You don’t bother moving from where you lay, sprawled out on the floor, when you hear the first click of many locks signaling that your sweet and doting lover has returned. 

You used to try to rush him, or get the jump on him with the heaviest thing you could find. Once you started to get really desperate, you just screamed over his shoulder before he had time to clamp a large hand over your mouth. 

None of it ever worked, of course. 

It was months ago that you decided hopeless escape attempts simply weren’t worth Nanami’s wrath. He’s faster than you, stronger than you, and far bigger. And he always will be. 

When your relationship with Nanami was still somewhat normal (though looking back you can’t help but notice all the things that weren’t normal, you suppose hindsight really can be quite the bitch in that regard) you never really thought too hard about how much stronger he was compared to you. In some ways, it might’ve even been comforting, instead of just horribly depressing. No one could touch you when your hand was tucked in his. 

It hurts more than you’d like to admit that something you once found such solace in, is now what stands between you and any semblance of normalcy and shred of happiness. 

(And fresh air. God, you miss fresh air so much it hurts, a dull never-ceasing ache deep in your chest. You miss the stars too. Sometimes, when you’re laying on the floor like you are now or in the dead of night when it’s all you can do to swallow down your screams, you try to map out constellations on the ceiling. You’re not very good at it though, and the few constellations you actually remember are starting to slip from your memory like water through fingers, no matter how desperately you try to hold onto them.

You wish you’d studied the stars more, ingrained them so deeply into your psyche that you’d carry the night sky with you, always. 

You wish they’d never been stolen from you in the first place.)

It takes Nanami’s slightly disapproving hum to snap you out of your celestial spiraling. 

You tilt your head back, just enough to find he’s towering over you. His mouth set in a grim line. His glasses, jacket, and tie have already been discarded, his shirt rolled up to his forearms. The sight of him like this use to make your cheeks burn. Now, it’s hard to rein in the urge to spit at his feet and hiss out every seething thought you have about him burning below the surface. 

But the lecture you’d receive after a ‘tantrum’ like that wouldn’t be worth it. He always manages to twist your words, your own feelings, sometimes even your very sense of self, until you can hardly tell what’s up and what’s down. Until you can hardly distinguish your reality from his. Until all you can hear is Nanami’s voice in your ear, reminding you of everything you’ll never be. Of just how helpless you are. 

(It’s like his hands are around your throat, choking and choking and choking.)

And once you’re nothing but a sobbing heap on the floor, he’ll pull you into his lap, tuck your face against the curve of his shoulder, and rub soothing circles into your back while saying something along the lines of ‘It’s okay, it’s okay. I’ll always be here take care of you’ until your sobs have quieted to the occasional hiccup.

You hate it, how he manages to make you feel so dependent on him. He’s so, so good at knowing just what string to pull so that you’ll unravel completely, just so he can put you back together again with his painstakingly gentle hands. 

Nanami’s smart like that. 

So, you’ve learned to bite your tongue. 

“You’re insistence on laying on the dirty floor when we have a perfectly good couch and bed truly astounds me,” he says, monotone. 

You don’t justify his sarcasm with a response, partly to stall what inevitably will come after this and partly to annoy him. Nanami doesn’t like it when you ignore him. It’s one of the few things you have the power to do that manages to get under his skin. 

It’s these little rebellions, you’ve found, that make all the difference. 

You eye the couch warily, it’s plush and huge. The perfect place for an afternoon nap. Nanami had traded out the smaller one he’d had before, for this one, a few months after you’d started dating. He’d wanted one big enough that you two could comfortably lay together as you slept and he read. You spent countless hours there, tucked into his side, with the setting sun warming your skin. 

It’s also where you had told him that you wanted to end things. That he’d gotten too overbearing, too controlling. That you felt suffocated. That you still loved him dearly, but that you couldn’t do this anymore. It’s where you left him as you walked out with only a single bag in hand. 

That night you went to sleep in some shady motel room and woke up back in Nanami’s bed with a padded handcuff chaining you to the frame. 

These memories from before have a way of coming back to haunt you, they pass through the walls, whispering poison in your ears, caressing your skin one moment just to dig their claws in deep the next. 

They mock you as you sit and rot and dream of stars you’ll never see again. 

“You’re stalling.” He always manages to sound so distinctly unimpressed with you whenever you don’t follow one of his unwritten rules (and God even if you were actively trying to follow them, there are so many that keeping track of them is nothing short of an impossible feat).

You finally get to your feet, wringing your hands in a way that you know makes you look weak and pathetic. Just the way Nanami likes you so that he can swoop in and take such good care of his little darling love. 

“Kento, I-” 

“Save it,” he says, already walking towards the bedroom. 

You could put up a fight, but all that’d do is make him angry, and then you’d have to do what he wanted anyway and deal with being tethered back to the bed for a few days while Nanami fusses over you like some sort of deranged mother hen.

You make your way over to the bedroom, already starting to strip, ready to get this over with as soon as possible. 

You’re half-naked by the time you enter his room. 

Even after months and months of this, the humiliation of standing nearly naked in front of him while he stays fully dressed never dulls, it’s still just as sharp and awful as the first time he made you do it. 

(It’s like you’re peeling back your own skin, defenseless as he rubs salt in the wound.) 

You suppose you should feel lucky that he lets you keep on your bra and underwear. Not that the undergarments he bought you really cover all that much, but in these four walls, beggars can’t exactly be choosers. 

He takes off his watch, setting it carefully onto his dresser before walking over to you and starting his nightly inspection for any cuts or bruises you may have received (or given yourself) throughout the day while he was off at work. Off in the world you’ll never see again. Just the thought is enough to make you want to scream. 

You used to be able to wiggle your way out of this, before the incident, as Nanami has dubbed it, but now it’d be a cold day in hell before he doesn’t painstakingly go over (almost) every inch of your skin with a careful eye and calloused hands. 

His thumb always brushes terribly gently over the scar a few centimeters to the right of one of your jugular veins, where you had attempted to slit your throat after you realized that you would probably never escape this place. Never escape him. 

You’d never seen Nanami as scared as when he walked in on you holding a knife to your throat. And you’d never seen him as angry as after he’d wrenched it from your hand using a type of speed that shouldn’t even be humanly possible. 

He took a full month off work after that which coincidently also happened to be the worst fucking month of your life. 

He cups your face in his large hand and presses a kiss to your temple. A sign that he’s deemed you just as pristine as when he left you and that he’s very pleased by it. 

You want to bite his hand. You want to rip his flesh from the bone. You want to hold his heart in your hand and crush it. 

(You want to go home. You want to feel the earth beneath your bare feet. You want to sit on a roof in your childhood neighborhood and watch the sun dip below the horizon and drown the world in golden light. You want to step out on an autumn day with winter just around the corner and smell the crispness in the air, feel it claw its way into your lungs. 

You want to remember what it’s like to be human.)

Nanami’s lips are on yours before you can think, soft and enticing. You could push him away or just say no. He’d listen. Not even he can apparently justifying forcing you. 

(We all have our limits, don’t we?)

But you don’t. You haven’t in a long while. And you hate yourself for it more than you could ever hate him.

He loses his shirt rather quickly and you manage to discard your bra before he lifts you up and tosses you on the bed. You don’t get a second to breathe before he’s over you, monstrous and awful and so terribly beautiful. 

He takes a moment to caress your face, his knuckles brushing over your cheek so tenderly that it nearly makes you sick. You’re thankful when he finally says, “Open up.” 

You do as he says and in the next second two of his fingers are stuffed into your waiting mouth. 

“Suck.” 

And you do, without hesitation, because you know what’s coming next. You know that for the next hour or so, there’ll be no denying the fact that you’re alive, that you’re not some ghost haunting these halls. It’ll prove that it’s blood that flows through your veins instead of stone, that you have not yet started to rot in your own skin. 

He he pulls his fingers from your mouth without a word and leaves a trail of burning kisses down your sternum and stomach. He wastes no time pulling your underwear off and attaching his calloused thumb to your clit, rubbing tight little circles in a way that has you keening almost immediately. 

In an embarrassingly short amount of time you’re wet enough for him to comfortably slip a finger in. Just one of them reaches spots you never quite manage to hit on your own, and you hate how much you love it. It has you moaning, nearly loud enough to drown out the lewd squelching by the time he adds a second finger. 

“You’re so, so good for me,” he murmurs, voice rough. It sends a shiver down your spine.

You hate that the praise has you clenching his fingers in a near vice grip. You hate that he still affects you in any way after what he’s done to you. After what he’s reduced you to. 

You don’t have time to stew in your self-loathing before his fingers find that spongy spot inside of you that has you seeing stars. 

(And this is the reason you don’t push him away. 

You’ll never step foot under the night sky again. But here, with his fingers hitting all the right spots in your cunt, you’ll make your own galaxy and pretend that it holds a candle to the real thing.)

With the pace he sets, his constant low grunts of just how lovely you are creaming around his fingers, and the way his thumb never lets up on your puffy clit, you’re coming within minutes, you spasm around his digits so hard that the stars you so love burst behind your tightly shut eyelids. 

He eases his fingers out of you and licks them clean, his dark eyes half-lidded and nearly glowing in the dimly lit bedroom, burning straight through you. 

You’re the one to look away first. You always are. Shame settling heavily in your gut. Shame that you enjoyed it, shame that you didn’t push him, shame that you’ll do this all over again tomorrow.  

When he finally sinks into you, he does it slowly. Sometimes you wish he wouldn’t, sometimes you wish he’d make it hurt. It’d be easier to hate him instead of yourself if he did. 

When Kento fucks you like this, chest to chest, there’s not a single part of you not swallowed whole by him. 

You hate it. 

You hate yourself more for moaning when he changes the angle and starts fucking you so hard and fast that your hands can’t help but scramble for anything to hang on to, they tear down his back, drawing blood which seems to only spur him on to go harder. 

“Kento I-- I’m-,” but you can’t finish the sentence, not when you can feel your orgasm teetering on the edge, so, so close that it’s painful, you just need- 

“You want to come?” He asks, his voice annoyingly steady.  

It’s unfair of him to expect you to be able to answer when he has you nearly folded in half. You can hardly even think. 

(But when has Kento ever really been fair?)

“Use your words, darling.” His lips are right against your ear, his tone unbearably condescending, and maybe a bit mocking. 

You hate him for asking you to beg. 

You hate yourself more for giving in. 

“Kento, please,” you whine. 

He laughs, low and mean, you feel it in your own chest and for a moment it really is as though you are nothing but an extension of him, a limb left useless without Nanami guiding you. You hate it. You hate it.

Eventually, he relents and brings his thumb back down to your clit, resuming those tight, firm circles, and that’s all you needed to finally push you over the edge.  

This time, when you come, there are no stars to comfort you. Just Kento’s eyes, bright and burning. 

Your cunt clamping down on his cock is all it takes for him to let out a low groan and still completely inside you, the warmth of his cum flooding your cunt is awful in it’s familiarity. 

His eyes finally close as he drops his forehead against yours, breathing your air and forcing you to breathe his. 

He closes the gap between your lips, gently, sweetly. You can almost pretend for a moment that this is the Kento you knew years ago. Who held you so sweetly and smiled when you smiled. 

You don’t realize you’re crying until he kisses your temple tenderly and wipes away your tears. He’s not worried, you cry more often than not after he fucks you. You don’t really want to think about why. 

You let your mind wander as he carries you bridal style to the bathroom, where in a minute he’ll run a warm bath for you two to share, then afterwards he’ll dry you off with the utmost tenderness, then dress you himself before carrying you to the kitchen where he’ll set you on the counter as he makes dinner (you won’t be allowed to help, of course) then he’ll force every last bite down your throat if you refuse to eat (he hasn’t had to do that in a long while though), then he’ll have you curl up on his lap, head tucked into his shoulder, as he reads. After about an hour he’ll bring you back to the bathroom where he’ll brush your teeth for you because you never do it right, and then he’ll drag you into bed no later than 10:30 PM so that you can do it all over again tomorrow. 

“Do you want the lavender or rose soap today?” Nanami asks you. 

You ignore him in favor of trying to remember the details of your galaxy, but it’s already faded away to nothing by the time you close your eyes. 

a/n pt 2: i feel like it was painfully obvious that this was my first attempt ever at smut. i’m so sorry yall. i really did try. 

[jadequeen88]

Incel Tomura

I couldn’t think of a good title for this, so... I just went with something real blunt. Anyway, this was inspired by a friend and how she actually met her IRL boyfriend.

PAIRING: Incel!Shigaraki x egirl!reader

TW: face sitting, degradation, mommy kink, reader basically bullying Tomura (he deserves it)

3.2k~

AS ALWAYS MY FICS ARE STRICTLY 18+

“TCH!”

Tomura scoffed at the screen of his laptop. The Discord server he helped admin had gone to shit since he let that idiot Dabi loosen the requirements to join. It was one thing when Toga joined. He knew she was a decent gamer. But you? With those stereotypical cat-ear headsets, perfectly done make-up and short skirts? Please… He saw right through you. Just another fake ~uwu~ e-girl trying to pretend they knew what they were talking about.

It didn’t end with you being annoyingly informed in the gaming chat, either. You were always in the anime and manga chats, too… Suggesting different ones that there’s no way you actually enjoyed.

But the WORST part of you being in the server? Spamming the picture chat with selfies and outfit pics. No, it wasn’t against the guidelines and yes, you got lots of compliments (of course, you were clearly hot), but it made Tomura livid. Where there used to be pics of half-built PCs and screenshots of character upgrades, now there were endless pictures meant to tease and bait the guys in the server.

Today’s picture is what sent him completely over the edge. Your hair was put up in two messy space buns, signature pink cat-eared headset perched on your head. Your black, mesh top was straining against your tight, hot pink bra, barely hiding your cleavage and your slender neck was adorned with a chunky, black collar with a large, silver ring hanging from the front. The icing on the cake, though… the thing that broke him, was the face you were making. Eyes crossed, little pink tongue lolling past your perfect hot-pink lips, it was an obvious ahegao face. The caption read:

“New collar! Thank you for da gift @XxXknifey_wifeyXxX”

Followed by a bunch of annoying ass emojis.

Tomura shifted in his gaming chair, his growing bulge making his sweats tight. He gritted his teeth and opened his DMs…

******

You snickered as you opened your text chat with Dabi. Poor Tomura… He had no clue his friend was an old high school buddy of yours and sent screenshots every single time he bitched about your presence on the server. At first, it was just a couple of snide comments, but you quickly decided to turn it into a game. You’d add more emojis than you normally would, flirt shamelessly with Toga in the chat, and be very vocal with your opinions. Then it progressed with more and more selfies, pics showing off your new skirts, and pics of your pink, girly gaming setup. Today you pushed it with the ahegao face, you’ll admit. It was pretty out of character for you, but you couldn’t wait to hear about Tomura’s reaction from Dabi.

It was everything you hoped it would be:

Decay_666_

So can we give those bitches their own chat or what? Seriously, I’m sick of seeing their shit everywhere. Did you see her ahegao face selfie? This server was supposed to be for ACTUAL gamers, not fake e-girl sluts spamming the chat with their bullshit…

Cremation_Daddy

Lol, damn dude, calm down… we can make a separate chat. You’re the only one on the server complaining. Y/N really fucking you up that bad?

Decay_666_

Oh, fuck off… she’s just being an attention whore and it’s getting on my nerves.

Cremation_Daddy

Yeah, whatever you say. Prolly jerkin it to that selfie right now

You didn’t know why, but you kinda had a crush on the skinny loser. Knowing how worked up he’d get over the smallest things you did thrilled you. You wanted to know just how badly you affected him and today was the day you’d find out.

*****

Tomura heard a ping from his monitor alerting him to a new DM. expecting it to be Dabi giving him more shit, he scowled and clicked over to his Discord tab. When he saw that it was you DMing him, it was like someone had poured a bucket of ice water over his head. He could barely type he was so nervous.

Y/N

Hey :)

Decay_666_

Hi

Y/N

How did you like my new collar?

Tomura panicked. Had Dabi said something? There’s no way he’d do that. How did he even respond to that? He decided to feign ignorance.

Decay_666_

What collar?

Y/N

*image*

He audibly gasped. You sent him the selfie you’d posted in the chat earlier. Somehow, it was even hotter than the first time he’d seen it. Probably because you had sent it to him. You wanted to make sure he saw it. The thought alone made him painfully hard. He typed out a shaky response:

Decay_666_

Yeah… you look really pretty :)

He grimaced. He couldn’t think of anything clever when he was put on the spot like that. Plus, how long had it been since he’d spoken to a girl one on one? Much less a hot one? Never. That’s when.

Y/N

Aww, you’re so sweet :) wanna see it in person?

Now Tomura was wondering if he’d died and gone to heaven. Did she want to meet up? Wearing that fucking collar? There’s no way… He stared at the screen for a good ten minutes before another ping brought him back to reality.

Y/N

I’m free now if you are. Plus, there’s a new episode of *insert favorite anime* out and I didn’t wanna watch it alone.

Decay_666_

Yeah. Sure.

His response was almost uninterested but inside he was panicking. When was the last time he showered? How much time did he have to get ready? Did he even have any clean clothes? He leaped from his chair and ran to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Another ping rang out and he raced to check his DMs to see that you’d sent your address. To his surprise, you only lived a short walk from him. Another jolt of excitement shot through his spine as he quickly responded.

Decay_666_

Be over in 30 :)

He turned on the shower then started picking through his pile of clothes finding the ones that smelled the least offensive. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this nervous and excited at the same time.

*****

 Tomura shifted from one foot to the other, nervously scratching at the side of his neck. He caught himself before the skin there broke and he ended up having to deal with a bloody neck on top of already being a nervous wreck. He’d only been standing outside your apartment for a minute or two, but it felt like an eternity. He kept checking his phone to distract himself. Just as he was starting to question if this had been a good idea, the door flung open.

His eyes widened and his mouth turned into a thin line. You answered the door in a fucking towel. He began opening and closing his mouth like a fish that had been plucked from the water. You giggled innocently like it was perfectly normal to answer the door nearly naked.

“You’re here a little earlier than I expected! I just got out of the shower. Come on in,” you moved to the side to give him room to walk through the door into your small apartment. You were sure to not move completely out of the way so he’d have to almost brush against your chest. You could feel him stiffen and hold his breath as he passed by.

This was going to be so much fun…

*****

Tomura’s dick had been painfully hard the moment he’d seen you in that towel. Luckily, when you’d gone into your bedroom to get dressed, he was able to position it in his waistband so he wouldn’t be pitching a tent in front of you. The thought of you noticing him popping a boner just by looking at you in a towel was mortifying. 

However, what you decided to change into didn’t help his situation. Your baby pink terry cloth shorts would have shown the curve of your ass had it not been for the little row of ruffles around the bottom. Your tank top, the same baby pink color as your shorts, was pulled tight across your chest (holy shit, were you not wearing a bra?!). A fleeting glance at your chest proved to Tomura that you definitely were not wearing a bra.

“You can come on back,” you beckoned from the doorway of your bedroom, “I thought we’d be more comfortable in here…”

He gulped and rubbed his sweaty palms on his jeans before nodding and rising to walk towards you. Your room was foreign to him. Decorated with all shades of pink and purple, soft, plush bedding, and a soft pink glow emanated from the LED strip lights that lined the walls. Tomura stood awkwardly, looking around for a chair to sit in when you flopped onto your bed and began pulling up the streaming app on your tv. 

You looked up at him sweetly and patted the spot on the plush comforter next to you. “Come sit, Tomu! You don’t have to stand way over there. I don’t stink, ya know,” the wink you gave him made his knees buckle.

“Umm,” he chuckled nervously, “No, of course not. You, uhh… you smell…”

No, you were way too close. This was bad. There’s no way he would be able to string together a coherent thought, much less hold an actual conversation with you. You pout and lean in even closer to him.

“Tomuuuuu!” fuck, he hated that he loved that stupid nickname, “You think I smell?!”

“What?! N-no, not at all. I was trying to say that-”

Before he could finish his sentence, you tilted your head to the side offering up your neck for him to smell and he swears his eyes crossed as he tried to absorb what was happening.

“I even wore my new perfume! Go on, smell. Tell me what you think,” you smirk looking out of the corner of your eye.

Fuck.

You were teasing him, he knew you were, but his dick was so hard that he was completely at your mercy. He leaned in to take a tentative sniff and his eyes wandered lower. His breath hitched when he noticed the outline of your hardened nipples peeking through the thin material of your tank top. Before he knew what was happening, you turned your face forward and put your mouth next to his ear.

“Are you looking down my shirt, you pervert?” you purred. Tomura made some sort of incoherent noise and pulled away.

You laughed and pushed his shoulder playfully, “Geeze, I’m just kidding! You’re wound so tight.” you pause making a thoughtful face.

“Oh, I know how to help! Come on, over here,” you pulled him between your spread thighs and proceeded to rub his shoulders, working out all of the knots in his lean back.

After a few seconds, Tomura began to relax into your touch, slumping slightly and letting out a tiny sigh. He was deathly still the entire time you massaged him. He was terrified if he moved too much that his raging boner would free itself from his waistband. When your hands left his shoulders, he started to move away just to be pulled back into your lap. His head landed in your cleavage as your hands trailed down his chest. 

“Hmm, so tense, Tomu,” you whispered into the crown of his hair, “Is my massage not working?”

He wanted to yell that of course he was tensed up. That his dick is the hardest it’s ever been in his life and if he doesn’t hold as still as possible, he’s scared he might start humping the air like a pathetic dog. Before he can answer, your hand trails down to the waistband of his jeans, and he freezes. The tips of your fingers brush across his leaking tip and Tomura lets out a low, needy moan before he can stop himself.

“Just what I thought,” you purred as you began to trail your fingers up and down the hard bulge in his jeans, “Pathetic. Look at you, so fucking hard for me. And all I did was rub your shoulders.” He wanted to defend himself, but all he could do was whine as his eyes rolled in the back of his head while you continued touching him through his jeans.

“And to think, I never thought you’d want anything to do with some fake bimbo like me. Because I only game and watch anime for attention, right?” you squeeze his cock through his jeans, causing him to yelp. “Well? What do you have to say for yourself, incel? Wanna tell me why your dick is this hard for me if I’m so annoying to you?”

The realization that Dabi had told you everything flitted through the back of his mind, but he didn’t have room in his brain right then to be mad at him. He had to do whatever he needed to do to keep you touching him.

“I, ahh... I’m s-sorry,” he stuttered pathetically. The front of his jeans was wet from your teasing and the denim was rubbing him raw through his thin boxers, “D-didn’t, fuck, didn’t mean it like… ahh, l-like th-that.”

You loved how easily you could wreck him. You pet his hair back from his sweaty brow as you cooed at him lovingly.

“You know,” you removed your hand from the front of his jeans and he whined from the lack of friction, “You really hurt my feelings, baby. I thought you were so cool and the whole time, behind my back, you said just mean things about me.”

He sat up and turned to face you. His pathetic, needy gaze shot straight to your core. The power you held made you drunk and you desperately wanted more.

“No, no no no…” he grabbed your hands and you realized how clammy they were, “I’m-I’m so sorry. Please! Please…”

“Hmm,” you studied him for a moment, “Well… There might be a way you could make me feel a little better.” you tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, “You were so mean to me.”

“Anything! Please! I-I’ll do anything for you!” desperation started creeping in, thinking you’d leave him hanging with no relief. Little did he know, you had no intention of letting him go any time soon. Your plush lips curled into a devious smile. A soft hand reached up cupping his jaw.

“What a good boy, Tomu,” a tremor passed through his body. You reached over to your nightstand and pulled out the collar you’d taken the selfie in. 

“You know,” the collar danced between your painted nails, “This also came with a leash. I was thinking,” your lust-filled eyes meet his, “If you wanted to be a good boy for me… You’d let me see how pretty it looks around your neck.”

Tomura hesitated, his eyes rapidly moving between your eyes and the collar you held. After a moment of consideration, he nodded. You giggled and clapped your hands together excitedly leaping off the bed. You returned with a short, chain-link leash.

“Now,” you leaned in and fastened the collar around his neck. Your bodies were centimeters apart and Tomura thought he might pass out, “When you’re wearing your collar, you don’t call me Y/N,” you nudge his ear with your nose and whisper, “You call me ‘Mommy.’ Do you understand?” you feel him nod against your face.

“That’s not how good boys answer their Mommy. When you answer me, you say, ‘Yes Mommy’ or ‘No Mommy.’ Is that clear?”

“Y-yes… Mommy.”

“Mmm, what a good boy,” you placed a soft kiss on his neck and he let out the most delicious whimper. You hooked a finger through the ring on the front of the collar, “You’re gonna go sit in Mommy’s gaming chair and let her use you as a toy. Okay?” 

Tomura’s head was spinning and he almost couldn’t answer until you jerked him by his collar, “Y-yes, Mommy. Please, please make me your toy.”

You stood and dragged him over to your chair and made him sit, “What a polite boy you are! Saying ‘please’ without being asked. If you keep that up, you just might get a reward,” his belt buckle rattled as you worked his jeans down his narrow hips. 

A ragged breath escaped his chapped lips as you removed your tiny shorts revealing a black, lace thong. You straddled his lap, your dripping slit hovering a centimeter over the angry, leaking head of his cock. His hands shook as you placed them on your hips and slowly moved your thong to the side. Descending an inch at a time, only teasing his tip, was causing him to come undone underneath you.

“You’re already so close and I’ve only put the tip in. You better be a good boy and not come until I tell you to or you’re going to be punished,” you pushed another couple of inches inside and he nearly wept.

“I-I’m trying, M-mommy! I wanna be a good boy!”

“Mmm, I know, baby. You’re doing so,” another inch, “So…” and another, “Well.” you were fully seated on his cock now. Tomura knew he wouldn’t last. Your velvet walls were sucking him down harder than anything ever had before. It made his fleshlight feel like it was made of sandpaper. You had ruined him for anything else. 

With a few rolls of your hips and some high, airy moans, he was about to bust. “Mommy! Mommy, please! I-I’m g-gonna…”

“Tomu,” your voice was authoritative now, “If you come in Mommy’s pussy, I’m going to make you clean it out with your tongue then I’m going to sit on your face until I come as many times as I want.” your hand wrapped around his throat and you started bouncing on his cock. Your filthy words and aggressive motions catapulted him into an orgasm.

“You bad, BAD boy,” a smack to his cheek broke off his moans, “You disobeyed me! Did you do that on purpose?” your hand around his neck flexes, “Are you just a dirty incel that wants Mommy to get mean with you? Answer, Tomu!”

“Yes, Mommy!”

“Tell Mommy what you are…”

“I-I’m a-a… dirty incel.”

“And what do you want?”

“W-want… want Mommy to b-be mean to me…”

You lift him by the collar and attach the leash. He’s thrown onto the bed and you waste no time hovering your dripping slit over his face.

“Now,” you jerk the leash, “Clean up your mess.”

Tomura knew he should be disgusted right now, but his dick was getting harder by the second. With each lick inside your sloppy hole, he shamelessly moaned against your skin. The vibrations were going straight to your clit, causing you to ride his face harder. This went on until you’d almost reached your peak.

“Oh, baby,” you’re making Mommy feel so, so good, “I-I’m gonna…”

Tomura grabbed your ass and moved you back and forth on his face as he sucked your clit into his mouth. Your orgasm hit hard and fast. You lifted your body giving him a moment to breathe before sitting back down, earning a startled mumble from him.

“Don’t think that’s all,” you laughed and humped his face, making his eyes roll into the back of his head, “Be a good boy and mommy might even let you come…”

Tomura only nodded as he began to eat you again like he was starved. Maybe all the stuff you posted in the Discord server wasn’t so annoying anymore...

[leetotters]

Hi! Can I ask for a long sugardaddy mob Tom fic? You’re first like blurb kinda did it for me ☺️☺️

mobsugardaddy!tom holland x reader

warning: daddy kink(he's a sugardaddy here lmao), curse words, oral (male recieving)

summary: basically request just short😔

"Don't you fucking come near her again" Tom spat on the man's bloody face colliding his fist to his swollen eye one last time, he gripped the man's jaw making him let out a groan at the mob boss firm hold. "Don't go touching things that don't belong to you" Tom gritted through clenched teeth as the image of the man in front of him attempting to grope your ass played in his mind once more. Tom roughly drew his hand back, pushing the man's face to the mucky floor, he instructed his right hand man Harrison to finish up for him, knowing you would be fretting why he was taking so long.

Tom exited the back door of the pub, pulling out a handkerchief from his suite wiping the blood from his fists and knuckle, mumbling profanity words when he noticed his knuckles were bruised red. Tom made his way to his car, where he was met with the sight of you laid back in the car seat scrolling through your phone, your dress hiked up displaying your red thong that was surely doing a poor job covering your cunt.

Tom opened his door, sliding in his seat as he pulled his seatbelt over his chest, pressing the start button. "Hey babydoll, sorry for taking so long daddy had.. some business to deal with" Tom knew better than to tell you what he was doing, he knew you didn't mind his choice of work but he was smart enough not to get you involved.

You nodded your head acknowledging Tom, you kept your eyes on your phone screen skimming through dresses and jewelry you wanted Tom to purchase for you. "Ohh look at this Daddy" you gasped at the ivory satin dress with corseted details that exposed a fair amount of cleavage to Tom, he only smiled at you resting his hand on your thigh pecking your plump lips, "Looks lovely doll, you should add it to your cart" You beamed saying a soft thank you as he clicked the plus icon.

"So where are we going now" You inquired setting your phone on your lap, pulling Tom's hand from your thigh interlocking your fingers together, twisting the silver rings that adorned his fingers. "I was thinking that Italian restaurant you wanted to try" Tom answered pulling your hand to the steering wheel as he circled around the road.

"Yes let's go there, the menu is a bit pricey though" You stated earning a hearty laugh from Tom, "M'sure I can manage the bill darling" you rolled your eyes at his cheeky response but broke out grinning knowing he wouldn't give a damn about the cost.

After your extravagant dinner you went home your stomach full with the delicious full course dinner and your favorite dessert. "Tommy I think you're trying to get me fat" you whined poking your belly, pouting at Tom, he looked at you shaking his head placing his hand on your stomach giving it a gentle pat. "Course not doll", he pecked your lips focusing his eyes on the road as the light turned green.

When you arrived at Tom's mansion you got out of the car, handing your coat to the maid as Tom did the same telling her to expect Harrison to stop in later to collect some important documents, you made your way to Tom's room which was practically yours since he insisted that you had your own personal closet, the reason being you spent most of your nights here instead at the luxurious apartment he bought you.

"Doll I have to finish up some work so don't wait for me" Tom spoke walking up to his bed undressing himself leaving him in his button up shirt and his boxers. "No Tom it's a Friday night" you whined out like a child, wrapping your arms around his torso resting your head on his clothed back, your fingers fiddling with his pendant.

Tom turned around latching his lips to your pouty ones, "As much as I want to spend my night with you doll, I have some stuff to get finish up" You huffed pulling your lips from his as he tried to deepen the kiss as if he was going to finish what he started. "Well go ahead, m'not stopping you" You went to the bathroom taking your dress off leaving you with your thong and bra on, you thought Tom already left to go to his office so you began wiping your makeup off.

You glanced at yourself in the mirror making sure you got all your makeup off, exiting the bathroom ready to dress yourself for a lonely night with Netflix. Before you could bend to pick up Tom's trousers from the ground you were hoisted up in the air, your legs instantly wrapping around the middle of person as you let out a loud scream. "Sh doll" Tom quieted you, his hand holding the back of your thigh while his other stretched the fabric of your thong letting it go to slap against your skin making you yelp at slight sting.

"What the fuck Tom" you jeered pretty sure he should be in his office doing his work or killing a man for all you knew. "What doll did you not want to spend the night with daddy" he smirked seeing you attempting to clench your thighs together, he knew how much you loved the daddy title.

"Put me down Tom" You uttered trying to come down from Tom's sturdy hold. "What did I tell you about calling me doll" Tom quipped through gritted teeth not liking your tone and name you just used, giving you the chance to correct yourself, his free hand unclasping the hooks of your bra revealing your perky breasts.

You gulped answering him like the good girl you are for him, knowing tomorrow he was suppose to take you out for your daily shopping spree because of your good behavior. "Sorry Daddy" you mumbled eyes trained on Tom's shirt not daring to meet his gaze.

"Much better" Tom rest you down on the floor patting your ass as a little approval, you smiled up at him happy that he wasn't using his mean tone and you probably still had the chance to buy latest Chanel handbag you saw earlier. "Since you behaved bratty today why don't you show daddy how sorry you are" Tom spoke his hands tweaking your hardened nipple.

"Yes daddy, I really am sorry" you sunk to your knees, internally cheering that your grumpy self got him to give you his cock, you pulled his boxers down his legs, your finger tracing over the cross tattoo on his ankle. Tom's cock stood high and proud slapping his stomach breaking free from it's prison, you grasped his length your hand pumping his brick hard cock, vaguely dipping your tongue on his tip tasting his moreish precum.

"C'mon doll better start sucking or else I'll not buy that cute little handbag you so badly wanted" Tom lifted your hair pushing his cock in your mouth making you gag, but wasted no time suckling his length, your hands playing with his balls as Tom kept his hand in your hair pushing you deeper so you were now deepthroating him. "Just like that babydoll" he groaned thrusting forward inches away from his end.

You looked up at Tom through your lashes, your eyes glossy blurring your vision of his beautiful face as he came in your mouth, his hold of your head tightening eager to come all over the tip of your tongue, that was more than gladly to collect his come. "Yes doll swallow Daddy's come" He ordered, you didn't need to be told twice immediately swallowing the warm liquid.

"Open up babydoll" You opened your mouth showing him you swallowed just like he asked you to. "Good girl" he praised softly patting your cheek prompting you to close your mouth, Tom pulled his boxers up his legs tucking his now wormy looking cock in.

You were about to speak but was cut off by the ringing of Tom's phone which made you roll your eyes but you stayed quiet knowing better than to upset him. Tom answered his phone giving you his winsome smile before entering the bathroom to continue his call.

You changed slipping in to your satin ruffled two piece pajama set waiting for Tom to come cuddle, you clicked on Netflix playing Gilmore Girls once again even though you finished the series. You laughed at one of Lorelai jokes twisting the rose gold tiffany and co bracelet Tom bought for you a while back at the first three months in your 'arrangement'.

Tom exited the bathroom his smile long gone and replaced with a miffed expression throwing his phone carelessly on his dresser running his hand through his curls. "What happened To- Daddy" you asked softly not sure if he would want to reply to you or not. "Nothing doll just someone fucked up again" He groaned slamming his fists against the wall letting out an annoyed huffed.

You jerked up at the sound, standing from your spot on the bed making your way to him, gently pulling him in a hug kissing his forehead, his whole mood changing embracing you in his muscular arms pecking your nose snuggling closer. "What happened" you asked a few minutes after.

"Just this new guy fucked up, lost me thousands of dollars too, big dumbass" Tom scowled pulling away grabbing his coat from the leather chair, clasping his Rolex on his wrists, combing his locks. "I have to go see about this babydoll" Tom kissed your lips, "But tomorrow I'm yours for the entire day, me and my credit card" He laughed seeing the way your eyes widened at his last words.

"Yes okay daddy don't be long" You pecked him waving him out the bed room door, jumping on the king sized bed pulling out your phone scrolling through yet another site.

[after-witch]

Fragile Little Thing [Yandere Hawks x Reader]

Title: Fragile Little Thing [Yandere Hawks x Reader]

Synopsis: Your “boyfriend” is having a rough day and he doesn’t appreciate you being such a difficult partner. If you can’t behave, maybe he can’t behave, either. 

For request: a fic with Yandere hawks. Maybe he breaks/ ruins something extremely precious to his darling. Something that money just can’t buy.

Word Count: 1800ish

notes: yandere, kidnapped, abuse

The muffled sounds of Hawks returning to the apartment are all too familiar. Jingling of keys. Click, click, clicking of the locks. You know he'd love it if you greeted him at the door, like you used to do. Which is partially why you choose to remain in bed--though really, you've hardly left it since that morning, except to greedily drink water from the tap and use the restroom.

So it comes as no surprise when the door to your 'shared' bedroom opens and Keigo stands in the doorway, looking disapproving and sad and--you catch it, in the way his eyebrows furrow--slightly annoyed at the way you're in practically the same position as when he left: curled up on the bed, holding onto a pillow like a shield in front of you.

"Babe," he says. "We've talked about this. You need to get dressed after I leave. Did you even eat?" His tone is worried, oh so worried, but you see the way he looks around the room--at the mess, at his laundry on the floor where he dropped it--in distaste. "You could at least pick up when I'm gone. We both have responsibilities around the place, y’know."

You suck in some much-needed air and hold the pillow tighter.

"Then let me leave so I can live on my own and you don’t have to worry about me not cleaning up." 

"Babe, you--." He clicks his tongue--stops himself from continuing on whatever road he was about to walk down. "Let's not start this again. We agreed to move in together. We agreed that I'd handle the bills, if you handled most of the housework."

The pillow is practically folded in half now, with the way you're clenching it. "Yes. Yes we did agreed to that. Until I realized that you're a fucking crazy person and you locked me up in this apartment for trying to leave." You stare directly at him, a challenge, daring him to contradict you again with his manipulative, deluded bullshit.

Instead, he sighs, and runs an exasperated hand through his hair. "Hey, okay, okay. I've had a really.... rough day." His voice is lower, almost gravely, and you believe him when he says it. Too bad you don't care anymore. "I'm really not up for a fight tonight. Let's call a truce."

When he says truce, your mind spins on a familiar reel. He wants a truce. He locked you up in this apartment and won't let you leave. He wants a truce. He made your friends and family believe you'd run off. He wants a truce?

The force of your thoughts has you scooching up in the bed and bracing your back against the headboard. You watch him--watching you--and wonder if he thinks you'll give in. Sometimes you do--it's inevitable, something you've thought long and hard about when you're in the apartment for hours upon end. You couldn't stand to live if you were constantly yelling at him, screaming, crying.

But you've had a few good naps, and you can stand it today.

"Fuck your truce," you spit, "and fuck your rough day--and fuck you."

His shoulders jerk in response to your words and fuck, is that satisfying. You've gotten to him. He wanted you to force a smile and say fine, whatever, what's for dinner. But you didn't. And now he can't go about the rest of his night in his deluded little fantasy that you're a willing spouse and he's going to have shitty dreams and hopefully an even shittier day tomorrow.

He's not at his limit, though, because he simply walks further into the bedroom. He stares at your dresser, the one pushed right up against his. You'd decorated it with your own knickknacks, back when you'd moved in--back when you were here willingly. Picture frames and personal mementos and jewelry that you don't bother wearing anymore.

He picks up a necklace, one he always complimented when you wore it out on dates--then increasingly, when you wore it on your evenings-in after he began insisting that you spend quality time in private instead, until finally you were trapped here and stubbornly refused to put it around your neck again.

"Angel, sweetheart, my sweet chickadee." He's tired. You're not--naps, good stuff. "Let's just both agree we're being… testy." He sets the necklace down and walks towards the bed. You flip your body around, bury your face down in the soft pillow so you can avoid looking at him. It’s childish, but you don’t care. "Then we can go make some dinner. Or we can order takeout, whatever you want. What do you say?"

His voice has an edge. You should be wary, you know this, yet your instinct for self-preservation lately has been smoothed away in favor of defiance, some meager inch of pride you can dig out for yourself.

And so you dig.

"Go. to. hell."

Something SLAMS--his fist, hard--on the headboard above you, just inches above the top of your head. 

You don't have enough time to process what just happened before Keigo gets up, furious, feet pounding on the floor and voice hot with anger. You cringe at the tone, which has crossed from annoyed into flat-out pissed. 

"How many other guys would put up with this shit? Huh?" You're half-listening, half-frozen.

You force yourself to turn over, keeping the pillow in front of you like a shield for more reasons than one, now.

"Most guys would expect to come home to a clean house and a good meal and a girlfriend who doesn't lay her ass in bed all day, crying about stupid shit."

You feel your own fury blooming in your chest. "I'm not your girlfriend--"

In a second, something shatters on the wall behind you, above you, throw just inches above your head. You crane your head down and you can just make out the mess on the floor, between the side table and the legs of the bed: jumbled shards of an ashtray, old and unused, something you'd stuck on the dresser ages ago when you were still allowed to have cigarettes. Before his jealousy turned to control, before he wouldn't let you leave--before you couldn't even smoke, because you couldn't open the windows.

You slowly turn your head to look at Keigo, and you stare at each other in silence, the air thick and hot between you. You can see his feathers bristling and your skin crawls at the thought of his feathers being the next thing to come flying towards you.

"I treat you like a princess," he says finally--and you scoff. You regret it immediately when you see his entire body, from his feet to his feathers, tense at the sound. You dug too deep.

"I treat you like a princess," he repeats, harsher, more strained. "And you don't appreciate it one fucking bit."

He picks up your phone, one of the few non-dusty items you've routinely set on your dresser in recent weeks. In a flash his arm moves, and you don't have time to say or do anything before it joins the ash tray on the floor. You glance and you can see the screen, black and shimmery, cracked into a hundred hairline cobwebs.

Don't move, you think. Don't move don't move.

He picks up a porcelain plate, thick with dust. A trinket from an antique mall Keigo took you on your... third date, you think. Or fourth. He trails his gloved finger along the dusty rim and wipes off the gunk on his pants.

"I clean for you," he says, voice low and spiteful. "You refuse to wash one fucking dish without trying to throw it at my head when my back is turned."

The plate is whipped so fast that it brushes your arm before it lands on the floor in a heap. At least its shards are on the floor, not your face.

"I cook for you. I buy you whatever takeout you want. You don't give so much as a nice little thank you."

You're waiting for something else to fly your way, waiting for the moment he finally says fuck it and hits you instead of the headboard, instead of the wall. But he's standing stock still now.

You're furious with him. You're scared of him. You want to reason with him. You don't know which feeling to deal with and so your words fall somewhere in between anger and terror and the need to placate.

"Keigo--" he looks at you when you say his name, and it's something. "Keigo, you kidnapped me. I don't want to be here. I--I broke up with you. We're not... we're not healthy together. Why can't you understand that?'

Tears are pricking at your eyes and his figure is a little blurry as he faces you with a strange calmness--strange, considering he just hurled hard, potentially sharp objects close to your face. You wipe your tears and his eyes are practically piercing into yours before he speaks.

"Take that back. Take that back right now."

You swallow against the harsh tightness pressing inside your throat.

"We're dating," he says, with the same low intensity. "We're very happy together."

You're so tired, now, so tired that it's hard to be angry with him. You just settle for being sad. 

"We're not."

He turns back to the dresser and picks up a figurine--the figurine, the one you carefully set on your dresser the very first day you moved on; the only thing on your dresser that you dust off every morning. The last figurine your mother made you before she died, hand-painted and hand-made and the only one of her creations that you have left.

And he knows, he knows all this, he knows it's important and you can only let out a breathy, desperate cry before it's hurled at the wall with cruel force.

Your hands fly out to catch it--impossible--and the brief brush of the hard porcelain against your outstretched fingers is the last memory you'll have of it before it smashes against the wall. Fragile, broken, in shards.

The sound that comes out of your mouth when you see the shards of the figure, the shards of your mother’s memory is involuntary and primal. A sound that makes you clutch your chest to make sure you’re not dead--you’re not, no, you’re alive and you hurt so much that you think you’re going to break in half. Your hands clutch at your mouth and you scratch your lips without feeling or knowing it.

Keigo has already swooped in, and you don’t hear every word so much as his tone--so sorry and worried and oh-fuck-oh-fuck-oh-fuck, he didn’t mean it, he was just so angry, he’ll fix it he’ll fix it he’ll fix this. His arms and his wings are wrapped around you, gentle and invading, as he rocks you slowly. Back and forth, back and forth. You don’t fight. You don’t scream at him. You just stare ahead, at the empty space where the figurine used to be, a clean circle surrounded by a layer of dust. It was a fragile little thing--and so are you.

[alrightberries]

dante’s inferno

request: wassup homie could you maybe write a college au fic where levi and reader are rommies, then one day reader brings home an adopted cat without levi's prior knowledge? You could decide what happens next lol. Tysm 🥺

❈ pairing: levi ackerman x reader

❈ genre: fluff, semi-crack ❈ word count: 4k

❈ summary: college au. in which you bring a stray cat to your dorm and your neat freak roommate won’t let you keep it.

alternatively: a compilation of college shenanigans where you and levi are best friends who are bad with feelings (ft. an unamused cat named dante)

❈ trigger warnings: profanity. mentions of alcohol and smoking. implied smut.

a/n: this was supposed to be loosely based on the nine circles of hell according to inferno by dante alighieri— hence the title— but i did my research wrong so now it’s loosely based on the seven terraces of purgatory according to divine comedy. i’m keeping the title tho.

Inspired by this art by @ryuichirou on tumblr.

Permission to repost art was granted by the artist. Do not repost/edit the art without explicit permission from the artist.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

i. first terrace: pride

“We’re not keeping it.”

“But why?”

“We’re not keeping it.”

“But why.”

Levi’s tongue clicks in annoyance. His eyes glance next you where the offending creature lay on your bed; tail curling, paws kneading at his your favorite fleece blanket. Quite frankly he’s a little offended when the little shit has the audacity to glare at him back.

He’ll never admit it, but his ego’s a bit bruised because the cat’s glare was slightly better than his.

“I said no,” he firmly replies, looking back to you. “It’s bad enough I have to share a room with an anarchist who has no respect for boundaries—“

“One time, I forgot to use a coaster that one time!”

“—and now you expect me to share a room with a dirty fur ball who does nothing but eat, shit, and sleep?”

“He’s a cat, Levi.” You murmur, scooping the cat into your arms. “And he has a name,” you give a nervous smile when you see your rommate grit his teeth. He feels a headache coming.

“You named it?”

“Dante is not an ‘it’.”

Levi makes a move to step closer but immediately stops when the ‘Dante’ hisses at him.

“Aw, he likes you.” You coo.

“Clearly,” he replies unenthusiastically. “Listen,” he sighs. “I respect your cat’s pronouns but that doesn’t mean he’s allowed to stay. Or do I need to remind you of the mac and cheese incident?”

Okay, maybe he was on to something. If you got caught with a pet in the dorms you’d breach your third and final warning, and you’d be forced to dorm off-campus. The fact that you were still here after the mac and cheese incident was solely because Levi pulled some strings (aka asked Erwin, golden boy of the campus who owed him a favor, to pull some strings).

But you couldn’t just let Dante go. There was something about him that felt so familiar; something about his black fur, thin silver eyes, unamused snarl, and overall grumpy demeanor. Especially endearing was the way he’d grumble and pretend to be annoyed whenever you tried to cuddle him but would complain if you stopped.

You just couldn’t figure out who or what he reminded you of.

Maybe you would’ve figured it out too if you weren’t so distracted with watching Levi and Dante stare at each other. Your eyes dart back and forth between the grouchy cat sitting on your bed and your grouchy roommate sitting on his desk. Both were slightly crouched over with their heads tilted up in a show of dominance; they were engaged in what seemed to be a glaring contest, gunmetal irises unamused and mouths taut in a snarl as they protected their territory.

You sigh. You really, for the life of you, couldn’t figure out why Dante felt so familiar.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

ii. second terrace: envy

Levi is not jealous. He’s not.

At least that’s what he tells himself as he sulks alone on his bed. His arms are crossed and his lips are in a pout, eyebrows knitted in distaste, occasionally glancing to your side of the room where you sat up on your bed. He’s sure whatever movie you chose to watch together is interesting and all, but right now all he could pay attention to was that stupid cat. Sitting on your stupid lap. Getting its fur stroked by your stupid hand. Getting all the love and affection his stupid self should be receiving.

It was him you should be cuddling, not Dante. Saturday nights were reserved for him and you, not you and a cat while he happened to be in the room. He’s been trying to make a move on you since high school and he can’t fucking believe he’s losing your attention to a cat. Sure, he’s always been too chicken to make a move and had to suffer seeing you get together with assholes— as per your type during your emo high school days— but this was a new low. He can’t wrap his head around the concept that he’s losing his longterm crush to a motherfucking cat.

When you coo at how adorable the fleabag was for what felt like the 50th time that night, Levi decides he’s had enough of the cuddle-hogging piece of shit.

Wordlessly, he crosses to your side of the room and lifts the cat from its perch, ignoring your protests as he sets it down on the floor and tells it to ‘scram, you little fuck.’ He uses a hand to dust your lap free of any microscopic cat particles Dante probably left behind before lying down his head down once he was satisfied. He grabs your hand to put it on his hair.

“Stroke.” He orders, eyes closing.

“What? No! You pushed off Dante.”

“He was in my spot.”

“You couldn’t have given up your lap pillow for one night?”

“One night?” He scoffs and turns to look at you. “You’ve been abandoning me for two weeks. That disgusting, tic-infested, rabies-carrying slob has no business sitting on your lap.”

“He’s not disgusting, you gave him a shower before you agreed to let me keep him. And I took him the vet to make sure he had all his shots. He’s clean, Levi.”

“Tch, good. Now throw him out and let him find someone else to freeload from.”

“Okay, what’s going on?” You guffaw. “You’ve been grumpier than usual. And why’re you being such an ass to Dante? He’s just a cat.”

“Don’t think he’s special in some way. I’m an ass to everyone.”

“Then why does it feel like you’re always extra mean to him?”

He doesn’t reply. His lips are downturned into a frown when he looks away with a click of his tongue, and you realize with a sigh you won’t be getting an answer from your cryptic roommate soon. Your fingers start mindlessly stroking his undercut when you get lost in your thoughts— a habit you developed through years of Levi using your lap as a pillow. He always complained the first few times you did it but you knew it calmed both him and you, and that it put both your minds at ease. Moreso Levi right now, apparently.

You’re keenly aware of how he seems to curl up into you the more you keep going. You watch as his shoulders slump down when you stroke the side of his face, and his eyebrows relax slightly. From your angle, you could even see the way his eyes close in content. Maybe even a tiny smile if you were being delusional.

Your lip twitches upward.

“Oh my god, Levi, are you jealous of a cat?”

“Shut up and play with my hair.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

iii. third terrace: wrath

“You owe me a new cravat.”

You blink up at your roommate. “What?”

“You owe me a new cravat.” He repeats. He pulls from his pocket a white piece of fabric— barely recognizable— torn into shreds, releases it mid-air. It gently lands on your open palm.

“Wait, did Dante do this?” You ask, eyeing the slik in your hands.

“Unless you went feral in the middle of the fucking night and decided to cut up my clothes, yes.”

“Oh my god, Levi, I’m so sorry. I swear Dante will never—“

“You actually owe me three cravats,” he interjects. “The first two I overlooked since they weren’t that expensive but I draw the line here.” His lips are downturned into a frown, eyes poorly concealing his clear distaste. “This one’s my favorite and it was made from silk.”

You eye the fabric in your hands once more before nodding in understanding, setting down the once beautiful cravat before taking out your wallet. It was only fair that you paid him back; he was being more than generous with letting your cat stay and keeping it a secret, and now you wonder how many bad things Dante’s done that Levi’s overlooked or simply never brought up with you.

“Sure, I’m really sorry. How much do I owe you?”

Levi doesn’t say anything. Instead he pulls out his phone and types something on what you could only assume was google, most likely looking for the same brand of the cravat your cat had just torn into shreds. You weren’t entirely sure how much those could cost, but surely you could afford—

“What the fuck!” You screech, eyeing the page with very, very hefty price tags listed. Holy fucking hell where did he even get the money to buy something so expensive. Gulping, you nervously look up at your unimpressed roommate. You already knew he was taking it easy on you; his aura was the only thing intimidating, at least he wasn’t giving you the murder eyes. And even though he was a man of his word, you were thankful he hasn’t reported Dante.

Still, it didn’t change the fact that Levi looked pissed beyond belief.

“Uhm... can I pay you with a check that’ll definitely bounce?”

“You will pay me in cash.”

“Fuck, fine!”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

iv. fourth terrace: sloth

Levi silently works on his desk. His laptop’s open in fromt of him, numerous notes from classes and books from the library surrounding him. The gentle sounds of clicking and clacking echoe throughout the room as fingers typed at the keyboard, eyes concentrated and lips pulled taught as he focuses on his task. He’s on a roll. He’s almost done with this part of his research, nothing could snap him out of this, he just needs to—

“Levi, when do you think Dante will come back to me?”

He stops typing and grits his teeth.

This is how it’s been the entire night. Ten minutes of peace before you ask him some stupid questions that could’ve been answered with common sense.

“Fuck if I care.”

“Do you think it was something I did?”

He resumes typing. “Yes.”

“Do you think he’ll come back?”

“No.”

“Even after all we’ve been through?”

“Still no.”

“I miss him,” you sigh. “I miss him so much.”

“Then you shouldn’t have left the door open.”

It’s been a week since Dante escaped the dorm and Levi doesn’t understand why you’re still so depressed about it. I mean, you only lost a cat that you loved and treasured and treated like family. Surely a week of moping around in your pajamas and eating nothing but chips and soda was catharsis enough.

He hears you shift in your burrito blanket, presumably to turn away from him so you can sulk into the wall next to your bed. Good. Now he can get back to working on—

“Levi do you think Dante-“

“Enough.” He grits, slamming his laptop shut.

“Where’re you going?” You ask, eyeing the way he hurriedly stuffs papers and books into his bag along with his laptop.

“Out.” He replies, grabbing his keys and his coat. “I can’t stand this shit anymore.”

Your head is burried in your blankets when he slams the door shut and all you could do was slump down because great. You lost Dante, and now you’ve royally pissed off Levi.

Great. Just fucking great.

Unlike your cat, however, your roommate comes back hours later, just before curfew. He doesn’t bother with a hello— he never does— and neither do you, opting to stay hidden underneath the sheets. Though suddenly, there’s a dip in the mattress followed by a pur next to your head.

Could it be?

“Dante?” You murmur, lifting your head from underneath your cocoon of fabric. Small black paws and silver eyes meet your gaze. “Dante!” Immediately sitting up, you pulled him to your lap, scratching his little head and cooing about how much you missed him as he purred and curled into to you.

Levi would never say it, but he missed seeing you smile at the little fleabag.

You turn to look at your roommate. “How’d you find him?”

“Asked around the campus. He wandered into another dorm building and probably thought it was ours.”

“Well yeah but... I thought you hated him?”

“I do.” He replies instantly.

“Then why’d you find him?”

“I hate him, not you.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

v. fifth terrace: avarice

“I fucking hate both of you,” Levi grumbles, staring at the dorm.

Towers of boxes lined his supposed to be clean dorm room. He had a hard time prying the door open since it was blocked, and he wasn’t even sure how the boxes weren’t blocking out the light from how high they were piled. Dante’s sat on a stack of box directly next to the door, purring and flicking his tail around. Levi squints his eyes and glares at the little shit.

“You especially.”

“Mrow?”

Levi’s day had been, with no irony or sarcasm at all, amazing. He got a good grade on his research paper; the guy in front of him at the cafe accidentally ordered an extra serving of (coincidentally, Levi’s favorite) tea and gave it to him for free; and he got full marks for the presentation he’s been worrying about for weeks. His class even got dismissed early so he had an extra hour for lunch. He knew you didn’t have classes, so in honor of his great day he thought he’d do something nice and take you out for lunch. His treat, of course.

But any trace of his good mood vanished when he went back to the dorms and got greeted to a room that looked like it came from an episode of Hoarders.

This is what he gets for trying to be nice.

“Levi! Is that you?” You called out.

“What the fuck happened?”

You laugh sheepishly— at least Levi thinks you do. He couldn’t see you beyond the hundred boxes that took up your shared room. He hears some rustling and the sound of things being moved around before finally your head pops out from behind a wall of brown, smiling at him apologetically before walking towards him (and tripping a few times).

“Remember when I said I’d order some toys for Dante as a surprise?”

Levi’s eye twitches. “Don’t tell me—”

“I accidentally ordered 10,000 instead of 10. Online shopping struggles, am I right?” You nervously chuckle at his pissed off face. Levi was not in the mood.

Your smile widens as you make twinkly gestures with your hands. “So uh... surprise?”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

vi. sixth terrace: gluttony

The clinic is still when you first entered.

The harsh smell of alcohol and sterile metal makes your nose grimace, and the coldness of the thermostat brings goosebumps to your arms. Behind the wall, somewhete in the waiting room, cats are hissing, dogs are barking, and you could even hear the sound of birds angrily chirping and rattling their cages.

Dante cowers in fear on the silver table, and your heart aches. His ears are down and his fur’s standing on its ends, but you couldn’t comfort him. Not right now, at least. The veterinarian still needed to do a few more checks.

You gulp, “how’s... how’s Dante looking, doc?”

“Not good,” she murmurs. Her eyebrows are furrowed, and she takes a deep sigh as she eyes the information on the chart. “It’ll take months before he can walk properly again, possibly more if we don’t do anything about it soon.”

“Don’t tell me... is he—-”

“I’m sorry, my dear,” she sighs. “But your cat is heavily obese.”

The corners of your lips twitch down into a frown, and your palm is warm when you start to stroke Dante’s fur. He calms down a bit from your touch, less on edge but still guarded as he warily eyes the doctor’s gloved hands.

“But I don’t understand,” you reply. “I’ve been following the recommended diet you put him on, and I haven’t been feeding him anything other than the cat food and vitamins you recommended. How’s he still obese?”

“Well, we could look into other solutions, but for now I think we ought to look at whether or not Dante has an underlying health problem.”

Levi tunes out the chatter between you and the vet, bored eyes staring into nothing. He’s leaning against a wall and he’s watching the cat carrier. Your bag’s slung over his shoulders and your coat’s in his arms, and he was sure you didn’t even need him to be here for “moral support.”

He mentally scoffs. You probably just needed a chauffeur to drive you for free, and honestly, Levi would rather feel like a chauffeur than a coat rack.

His eyes make contact with Dante’s, and all the fear in the cat’s eyes is suddenly gone, replaced with a steely glare and bared teeth. A warning, one no one else notices but him.

Levi gives him a solitary nod, understanding what Dante wanted to say.

Don’t tell Y/N I’ve been sneaking to the neighbors.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

vii. seventh terrace: desire

There’s something about the buzz of alcohol and nicotine that makes Levi confident—- the liquid courage in his veins and the smoke in his lungs clouding his judgement. Perhaps that’s where he finally gets the balls to cross the room, drunken eyes on your equally intoxicated ones, before he pulls you in for a kiss.

The kiss starts slow, with lips just interlocking and lightly testing the waters. But then he feels your tongue make its way inside his mouth and your fingers weave into his hair to tug him closer, and Levi loses the last threads of inhibition he has. His tongue massages yours and one of his arm wraps around your waist, the other comes down to grope and knead your ass. He feels you walk backwards and your hand pulls at his tie, dragging him with you. Suddenly he’s trapping you against a wall, lifting one of your legs up to wrap around his hips so he could grind his crotch into yours.

Levi doesn’t expect his first kiss with you to be like this; messy and full of tongue and spit, full of fingers clawing at clothes and small grunts escaping your lips. He was hoping it’d be more romantic, with warm cheeks and fingers softly intertwining, shy kisses exchanged through little smiles.

But he’s not about to complain—- he’s wanted to be with you for years, and god he loved having you like this. Loved having you all hot and desperate, trapped between his firm chest and the wall. His cock is hard in his pants, and he just about growls when he feels you start to undo his belt, the fly of his pants coming down as you got on your knees and stared up at him with innocent eyes as you pull out his aching boner. There’s a cheeky grin your face when you pump at his length, and your tongue peaks out of your mouth before—

“Levi, are you okay?”

His eyes snap open, and he’s greeted to the sight of your worried face directly above his.

“Fuck!” he yells, and his forehead slams into yours when he flinches away. “Sorry, sorry” he quickly ammends when you yelp in pain.

He’s covered in sweat, he notices. Chest heaving, heart beating a little too loud for his liking, and he silently pulls the blankets over his cum stained boxers when you sit beside him.

God, he was really hoping you wouldn’t notice the fact that he came in his pants like a high schooler. And it was before dream you even got to suck him off. How much more pathetic could he be.

“Are you okay?” He asks, and you nod.

“Yeah, m’fine, it’s just...” your eyes are distracted, staring off into space. Fingers trace his thighs, and you sigh. “You were having a nightmare,”

Levi blinks. “What?”

“You were having a nightmare,” you repeat. “Kept tossing and turning and groaning in your sleep. And you kept making these... funny faces,”

“...right,” he nods. Sure, a nightmare. A nightmare he never wanted to wake up from.

It takes about ten minutes to reassure you that yes, he was fine, don’t mind the way his cheeks are flushed, he was just... shaken up from his nightmare, is all. Then you’re back to bed, sleeping the night away, and twenty minutes later he’s on his way back to bed too; this time with a fresh pair of boxers and a content look on his face, all thanks to him finishing off his fantasies in the communal bathroom during his shower.

The door makes a quiet click when he shuts it behind him, and he freezes when he catches sight of Dante sat up on your bed, tail flicking behind him as he gives Levi a knowing look.

Levi squints his eyes, and he threateningly whispers, “you tell no one.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

epilogue

The half empty room brings a frown to your face, and all you could do was pout as you sealed up the last of the boxes.

“Why do you have to leave again?” you ask, and Levi turns around as he finishes folding the last of his clothes. He shrugs. “Cats aren’t allowed in the dorms.”

You owed him your entire college career, that much was sure. The RA’s found out about Dante, and Levi had taken the fall to spare you. He wasn’t required to move out since it was only his first strike, but he insisted on doing so so that Dante wouldn’t be alone, saying he already found an apartment nearby and he’ll never hear the end of it from you if he didn’t take Dante with him.

Bullshit. Levi had a soft spot for Dante, you knew that much. He wasn’t doing it for you, he was doing it for himself. Though normally you’d be overjoyed to know that Levi really did secretly like the cat he pretended to hate so much, this time, you were just pissed. You couldn’t believe a fucking cat was stealing away the guy you’ve been in love with since high school. Sure, you were too much of a coward to ask him out, but he was basically your boyfriend already—- the entire campus knew you inadvertently had dibs on each other.

“Yeah but... do you have to leave me alone?”

“I asked you to come with me, and you said no.” He points out. “I still don’t see why when we’ve been roommates since we were freshmen.”

“It’s different off-campus!”

“How?”

“Because it’s like... it’s like we’re moving in together, y’know?” you reply. “And it seemed wrong to move in with you when we’re not even dating.”

“Let’s do it, then.”

“What do you mean?”

He sighs, handing you a spare key to what you could only assume was his new apartment. You glance between him and the key in your hands, and he rolls his eyes when he realizes that you still don’t get it.

“I know we’re doing this backwards since couples don’t typically move in before the first date,” he says before gesturing to Dante. “But we already have a son, and I know you’re his favorite parent. We can share custody until you can move in with me.”

You blink. “What?” Your brain stopped working when Levi referred to you as a couple, and you’re pretty sure your heart stopped beating too. At this point, anything he said went in one ear and out the other. He flicks your forehead.

“Hey— ow! What was that for?”

“You weren’t listening.”

“And you’re being a prick!” you grumble. “It hurts, y’know.”

He scoffs. “What do you want me to do? Kiss it better?” he scoffs.

Your mouth moves faster than your brain, “I’d rather you kiss me.”

Wait. What?

Before you could go back on your words, Levi shrugs. Warm palms gently grab your cheeks, pulling your face closer to his. Your eyes widen and you momentarily freeze, brain definitely not working anymore. He hesitates when you don’t make a move, but then you’re shyly leaning forward, and that was all the confirmation Levi needs.

“If you insist,” he whispers, and suddenly your words die on your tongue when his lips interlock with yours.

alrightberries © 2020. do not modify or repost.

If you want to be added to the tag list, click this link!

[tangledstarlight]

...i said i was going to make it and well, here we are i guess. im so sorry for this.

Carlos Molina’s to Guide to Ghost Hood (title subject to change) 

welcome to the 1st edition, maybe i’ll make a 2nd if i get inspired enough but also, this is such a mess already i don’t think the world needs a part 2 dfghg

Link to the power point is in the first reblog. (i’d highly recommend watching it for the full experience dfgh)

Link to ao3 also in the first reblog. 

below the cut is the accompanying fic and description of the rules/guide.

The tape recorder lets out a low buzzing sound as Carlos presses a button on the side and stands it up between them on the dining room table. Julie shoots an amused glance at Reggie who’s taken up residence in the chair next to him, the two of them flipping open notebooks and clutching pencils. 

“Where did you even find a tape recorder?” She wonders, stretching out a finger to touch the silver rectangle only for her hand to be swatted away by Reggie.

“Found it in a box of moms stuff and dad said we could order some tapes from amazon,” Carlos replies matter of factly, straightening up in his chair once he seems to have found the page he was looking for. “Right. Let's start off easy, shall we?” 

He looks at her expectantly and Julie rolls her eyes, waving a hand at the two of them, “Lets.” 

“Question one,” Carlos taps his pencil at the top of his page before squinting at her, “Did you conduct any séance related activities before the ghosts showed up?” 

Julie blinks at him, wondering if he’s joking but the pair of them just look back at her, heads both slightly tilted and it’s at that moment that she realises how serious they’re going to be about this. It was going to be a long afternoon of questioning apparently. 

“No, I didn’t conduct any séance related activities. I just put on their CD and they y’know, fell out of the sky.” 

“Interesting, interesting,” Carlos mutters as he looks at Reggie’s notebook as the older boy writes her answer down, underlines something and taps it with his pencil that makes Carlos let out a small hm. “So you don’t know anything about the dark room? Didn’t make any wishes?” 

“No,” Julie shakes her head, watches Reggie write something else down and tilt his notebook to Carlos. It’s weird, watching them communicate like that, like they’ve created a shorthand between them and don’t even require her presence to have a conversation. Which is obviously true because they’ve clearly discussed all this beforehand. 

“You walked through Luke right? What did that feel like to you?” Reggie’s question catches her off guard and she looks between them, but Carlos is already looking at her, waiting for her answer. 

“It was um cold? But also not. I--” she frowns, trying to think back to that first night in the kitchen when she’d turned around and walked through him. Back when she’s barely known any of them and was more annoyed by their presence then comforted. “It was weird. The first few seconds after I walked through him I just felt cold but then it was like a rush of warmth? You know when you get one of those random shivers that runs through your whole body? It feels all weird and tingly but also kinda nice? Like that.” 

“Did it feel like you got a feel of Luke?” Carlos asks and Julie shrugs, a slight blush on her cheeks and somehow, despite the fact they can’t see each other, the two of them share a look. 

“What’s the next question,” anything to move off the topic of walking through Luke and how it felt. 

//

“Oh Julie is gonna be so pissed at you guys,” Alex mutters but makes no move to step in and stop the ‘experiment’ currently going on. He watches as Reggie tries to put a hand on Carlos’ shoulder, fingers phasing through the younger boy's jacket with a frown. 

“She won't be pissed if it works,” is all Reggie says, face morphing into one of concentration as he slowly lowers his hand on to Carlos’ shoulder again. 

For his part, Carlos bounces slightly on his toes, eyes fixed on the notebook in Alex’s hand in case they need to tell him something. And okay, Alex might not fully agree with the way the two of them are going about this whole thing, but he can’t say he’s not on board with it. Their whole stint as ghosts has been nothing but confusion after confusion that not even Willie has answers for. Does he think Reggie and Carlos are going to uncover some fundamental thing that makes them the way they are? Probably not. Will they maybe get him some kind of answer? God he hopes so. 

Especially since there’s been small moments in the last few weeks where Ray and Carlos have been able to hear them even without them playing music or Julie nearby. Which had scared all of them. Thought it was nothing compared to Ray’s reaction when he’d apparently walked into the kitchen to find Julie and Luke hugging, only for him to vanish when they suddenly let go. It was a hell of a way to find out they could be seen if they were touching her. 

“Oh!” Carlos suddenly exclaims, head whipping to look at his shoulder where Reggie’s hand is resting solidly on the fabric of the jacket. Alex feels his eyes widen a fraction and watches Reggie’s smile widen as he squeezes slightly on Carlos’ shoulder. “Oh my god! I can feel that!” 

“Holy shit,” Alex whispers, grip on the pencil in his fingers growing. 

“Hey! I heard that too! Quick! Write it down! 30 minutes and- and however many attempts it took!” Carlos grins, face turning towards him and Alex doesn’t even have time to feel guilty about swearing before he’s scribbling in Reggie’s notebook.

//

“Thanks again for taking me,” Carlos says as he pulls his seat belt across his chest and clicks it in, eyes drifting from his tia in the front seat to the little notebook resting on the back seat and the pencil that’s hovering just a few inches off the paper. Subtly he sees it tap on the page, once, twice, and he bites down on his grin, tucking his hands under his thighs to stop from bouncing in his seat. They’re ready. 

“Of course mijo,” Victoria smiles over at him as she turns on the engine, fingers already messing with the buttons on the radio to find her favourite station. “I have to say I’m impressed. Planning ahead for your dad's birthday.” 

“Mhm,” he agrees, his eyes on the notebook that he can just see in the rearview mirror. The pencils resting between the creases in the pages and he holds his breath as the radio jumps to a different station. 

Victoria frowns slightly, her eyes darting from the road to the radio and back, hand reaching out to change it back. When it jumps to another station. And another. Carlos feels his eyes widen a little, legs bouncing on top of his hands as he watches the radio cycle through station after station, only lingers for a few seconds on each before moving on. 

Finally it stops, the words of Despacito ringing through the car and it’s lucky they’re at a red light he thinks, because when Victoria tries to change it it jumps right back. 

“What the f-” she starts, the furrow between her brows growing deeper and the knuckles on her hand that’s still gripping the wheel turning white. 

“Can we leave it? I like this song,” he looks over at her with a smile, blinking in what he hopes is a completely innocent way. He’s pretty sure she’s too distracted by the radio to question it. 

“Sure, sure,” she mutters, not even looking at him, eyes going from the road to the radio. 

The song ends and from the corner of his eye he can see the pencil in the back moving, Reggie or Willie writing something down and he has to stop himself from turning around to see what it is. Instead he watches as tia starts changing the radio station again, her fingers never leaving the touch screen as if that was the problem. But the second she lands on her favourite 80’s classics station and is moving her fingers away it changes. Skipping through stations again until Despacito is once again filling the car. 

It’s probably lucky that they’re at another red light and that there’s no one behind them because her eyes widen and she’s suddenly saying words in Spanish that he knows he shouldn’t know and is pulling over to the side of the road. 

“We have to get out! The car is being possessed! Out, out Carlos! Come on!” Her seat belt is off and her door is open before Carlos even has a chance to process what’s happening. The notebook from the back is pushed in front of his face and he tilts his head a little to side to read Reggie’s familiar handwriting, 

Too far? 

“Maybe,” he whispers back, taking the notebook out of the ghost's hand as he starts to get out of the car, plucking the pencil out of the metal spirals and making a note about not pushing tia in a moving vehicle and to wait until after they’ve gone shopping first. 

She’s got her phone pressed to ear when he joins her on the sidewalk, pacing up and down. Carlos is pretty sure there’s going to be a family dinner story time in their near future. 

//

Luke watches as Carlos sets his tape recorder up, idly plucking out a half finished tune on his guitar in order to be seen and heard. He doesn’t really get the other boys interest in figuring out their ghostly state of being. The same way he doesn’t really care about finding answers to all of Alex’s questions. 

They ate some bad street dogs. They died. Julie brought them back and then she saved them a second time. They can play music and sometimes be seen. He already has all the answers he needs and it’s two words: Julie Molina. 

Would it be nice to know what the black room was? Sure. Did he sometimes wonder why they could be seen but other ghosts couldn't? Sometimes. Did he want answers? Only if someone was going to give them to him without having to do the work. Was he going to sit here and answer all of Carlos’ questions because it was important to him and to the others? Fuck yeah he was. 

“Does that think pick up our voices even if we’re not playing and not near Julie?” He nods at the recorder on the table after Carlos hits a button. 

“Yeah! It’s so cool too. You sound like, all static-y and I have to listen really hard sometimes because your voices fade in and out but they’re there!” 

Okay, Luke can admit that is pretty cool, “That’s wicked. Maybe we should start using that to communicate instead of writing.” He was really sick of people commenting on his handwriting. 

“Dude that’s genius! It would be like leaving each other voice notes!” He gestures in the air with his pencil the same way Julie does when she’s realised the issue with a verse and Luke smiles softly. He doesn’t know what voice notes are, but he’s glad he could contribute to the communication issue. 

“What questions have you got for me then little dude?” He raises an eyebrow at Carlos as he flips through his notebook. 

//

When he’d first knocked Alex down Willie never thought it would lead to him sitting in the Molina’s family living room, a whiteboard resting on his knees as a twelve year old shows him bar graphs and pie charts of information on ghosts. 

There was probably some kind of domino-butterfly effect going on that had led him here. But he’s too busy trying to fit all his know ghost knowledge onto a whiteboard so Carlos can fill in the gaps in his knowledge. 

Over the years Willie has met a lot of lifers, has interacted with a handful at the HGC but he’s never met a family like the Molina’s. Who found out ghosts were real and instead of running, or trying to profit off of them, had just...welcomed them into the family. Arms wide and hearts open. 

And more than that, here was Carlos trying to get answers to questions that none of them really had an answer too. 

“Black room, yes or no?” Carlos asks, holding up a flash card and a clothes peg, ready to add it to the line of string stretching across the room. It was already littered with other cards in an order that Willie really didn’t understand but seemed to make perfect sense to the younger boy and Reggie. 

Not for me, or anyone I asked at the club, he scribbles down, turning to the board around. 

“Just like we thought,” he nods to himself, taking two steps to the left and reaching up to attach the card, “An anomaly.” he whispers it to himself and Willie has to bite his lip to stop from smiling before remembering that Carlos can’t actually see him. 

“Hey,” Alex’s voice from the doorway drags his gaze away from the lifer and the smile he’d been trying to stop spreads across his face, “How’s it going?”

“I don’t think we’re even half way through,” he chuckles, gesturing with one hand at the stack of flashcards and the charts he hasn’t even seen yet. “Do you understand this system?” 

The exasperated laugh that leaves Alex’s lips is answer enough before he’s even shaking his head, strands of blonde hair dipping into his eyes and Willie wants to reach to move away, “Not a clue. They’ve tried to explain it to us but it makes zero sense to anyone but them.”  

“Hey, Alex, stop distracting him, we’re working here!” Carlos’ voice makes him jump, head turning back to where he’s standing with his arms crossed and shaking his head in disappointment in the vague direction of where Alex is standing. 

“Wait, can he see you?” Willie frowns, mind trying to remember if he knew this or not. 

“No, he’s just really good at sensing us these days,” Alex sighs, but there’s a fond look in his eyes as he looks at Carlos, “He says it’s his ghost powers kicking in from how often he hangs out with Reggie and from all the failed teleportation experiments.” 

“The failed what now?” 

“Oh, you’ll find out. I think it’s section 7?” Alex grins, pushing off from where he’d been leaning against the doorway and waving.

Willie turns back to Carlos feeling a little more confused than he had minutes ago but also much more intrigued about teleportation experiments. And if he could help get some answers for any of the many questions Alex had, that was cool too.

//

Carlos Molina’s Guide to Ghosting. So you became a ghost, huh?

 (working title, subject to change)

By Carlos Molina, with special thanks to Reggie Peters and Willie Skateboard. 

1st Edition. 

Dedicated to Alex Mercer, so he can stop asking so many questions. We’re working on it buddy.

1. Tangibility 

They can walk through anything (except my sister now, reasons still unclear). 

Works especially well with walls, doors and locked vaults (see exhibit a) 

When they walk through people it “allows them to get a feel for the person” – Reggie Peters. “It’s weird” – Alex Mercer. No comment from Luke Patterson as he was too busy staring at Julie. 

2. Souls

Objects can be attached to their souls. 

Still unclear if it has to be an object that they were close to in life, or if they can attach their souls to any object once a ghost. 

Experiments with Reggie Peters are still ongoing. Updates will follow.

3. Being Seen

Can be seen by “lifers*” when they play music with Julie. 

This is the first rule which only applies to our ghosts. 

They can be heard when they play music without Julie. This is also unclear as to why, working theory is “Our music is just so awesome it transcends deaths!” – Luke Patterson.

Mr Willie Skateboard was quick to point out it’s “weird” and “ghosts aren’t supposed to be seen by lifers.”

4. Touching

Our ghosts can now touch Julie. The biggest change in their afterlife. 

Still no explanation for it. Experiments are ongoing (see exhibit b) 

Have witnessed Julie hugging the air many times only for Alex or Willie to appear. Same with hand holding. (see exhibit c for dads reaction) 

5. Magic

Some ghosts have powers and abilities. 

Willie* can control different types of technology. Appears to work best with cars. This we believe correlates with who a ghost dies. 

In our expedition to test his skills he skipped through 15 different radio stations of Tia’s car until he found one playing despacito. Test was a success. Tia does think her car is haunted now however.

6. ???

There was a dark room. 

All other ghosts interviewed had never heard of it before. 

All our ghosts agreed it was weird and creepy. 

We are choosing to pretend it didn’t happen. 

Working theory: a hole in time that they fell through. Must find a way to test.

7. Teleporting

part 1)

Ghosts can teleport wherever they want in the world. 

Only the most powerful can teleport a lifer with them (will keep attempting)

part b) 

Our ghosts can pinpoint Julie’s exact location wherever she may be in the world. 

Will be helpful if she is ever kidnapped, Julie however wishes they would stop using said power to find her in gym class.

“I already have find my friend activated” – Flynn had to say on the matter. 

part c) 

Julie can summon the boys to her if she concentrates hard enough. Came in handy when an evil magician tried to kidnap them.

Also possibly how they escaped the dark room, no way to prove or deny this as dad won’t let me eat a bad hotdog to become a ghost.

Working theory: magic of music and family 

See Exhibit d 

See Exhibit e  

[uswntxfootball]

baby, you’re like lightning in a bottle (kristie mewis x reader)

sam doesn’t know, so it’s unintentionally a series of rendezvous in the hotel. 

word count: 2388 ish

rating: H for hi i had some time to write so i did this short thing and Y for yeah i’ve been in a kristie kind of a phase so enjoy :)

title- electric love, borns  

——

your heart beat wildly in your chest as you laid there on the ground, sam’s voice distracting you from the grossness of the hotel room floor.

“okay now can you get up and put on some clothes already so we can go to breakfast?”

there’s a little bit more chatter until you hear a bit of rustling from the bed on top of you, followed by the clicking of a door, signaling sam’s exit from the room. 

still, you don’t dare to move, but it’s only when kristie bursts out laughing that you do. 

“okay that was too close of a call!”

 you shuffle out from under the bed and glare at your girlfriend, which only makes her laugh harder. 

you sit back onto the bed, a sheet draped over you, and pout.

“you didn’t have to kick me off the bed you asshole!”

kristie rolled her eyes.

“would you rather have been naked in my bed when sam walked in?”

“alright fair point,” you grumble.

kristie laughs again, and you try to stay mad at her, but when your girlfriend is kristie mewis, how could you? 

you eventually join in the laughter and break out into a grin, giving your girlfriend a quick kiss on the cheek when she walks by to get her phone.

“as much as i love you like this you should get dressed too y/n.”

you roll your eyes but agree.

“yeah yeah- speaking of, where is my shirt?”

kristie looks up from her phone and arches a brow at you.

“it’s your shirt. how would i know?”

you smirk and pull her in gently by the front of her hoodie, the girl in front of you gasping slightly as you do so.

“well you ripped it off of me last night didn’t you?”

kristie grins and wraps her arms around your neck. 

“perhaps.”

you look up and meet her in a searing kiss, your tongue slipping in her mouth almost immediately.

kristie pushes you onto your back and moves her kisses to your neck, but a slam on the door makes the two of you jump and almost fall off the bed in surprise.

“COME ON KRISTIE I’M HUNGRY!”

your girlfriend groans into your neck before screaming a reply: 

“JUST WAIT FOR ME IN THE LOBBY!”

“OKAY FINE!”

kristie groans, and just as she opens her mouth, sam cuts her off again.

“OKAY BUT YOU BETTER NOT FALL ASLEEP AGAIN!”

kristie rolls her eyes.

“SHUT UP I’M COMING!”

“not anymore..” you mutter, earning a smack on the chest from your girlfriend. 

despite her annoyance, she leans down to give you one last peck before making her way to the bathroom.

“okay i’ll leave first, and i’ll text you when the coast is clear so you can go back to your room.”

you hum in compliance.

“mhm okay kris.”

a few minutes later, after your phone pinged with a text, you still couldn’t find your shirt, so you slip on one of kristie’s hoodies on your way out, not noticing the trail of hickies down the side of your neck...

~~

it’s later when you arrive at practice that your carelessness bites you in the ass.

you were warming up alongside abby, when your girlfriend arrives with sam and rose, the trio heavily conversing in a topic unknown to you.

your ears perked up immediately upon hearing your girlfriend’s voice, your eyes following her every step.

you blush a little when your eyes meet sam’s, this morning’s close call still fresh on your mind. 

the taller midfielder shoots you a smile and a wave, both of which you reciprocate. 

kristie and rose do the same, though kristie’s eyes linger on you for a little bit, which you realize is probably because you’re wearing her hoodie.

she meets your eyes again and you quirk your eyebrow up a little challengingly.

your girlfriend rolls her eyes and mouths: 

“you look hot.”

you smirk and do a little hair flip and mouth back, “i know”, all which earn a halfhearted eye roll from kristie. 

an exclamation from sonnett tears your vision away from your girlfriend.

“damn y/n that’s one hell of a mosquito!”

your eyes immediately shoot to sonnett’s face in panic, and from the corner of your eye you catch a glimpse of kristie’s similar expression.

you clear your throat.

“what?”

sonnett makes her way to you and leans in to inspect your neck.

she points to the trail on your neck:

“these...things.” 

you swat her hands away. 

sonnett narrows her eyes. 

“wait a minute..”

you turn away abruptly and mouth a “sorry” to kristie. 

sonnett grabs your shoulders and spins you back around towards her. 

“...these are fresh! who’s defiling you during camp?!”

“i-“

“okay girls! time for practice!”

thank god for vlatko.

~~

unsurprisingly, you get swarmed again at lunch. 

by this point, everyone knows. 

kelley runs into you first. 

“alright so who are you banging?”

you roll your eyes. 

“i’m not banging anyone.”

kelley snorts as she grabs a salad. 

“yeah right. and i’m straight.” 

you roll your eyes again and ignore her, taking a seat at your typical table. 

kristie sits down next to you as soon as you get there. 

“hey.”

your mood almost immediately improves. 

“hey,” you grin back at her. 

the bashful smiles and exchanges aren’t missed by rose, who almost squeals in excitement across the room. 

she grabs sam’s arm, but realizing who’s she’s talking to, almost immediately drops it. 

sam gives her a weird look, but returns to her lunch nonetheless.

too caught up in staring at your girlfriend’s side profile, you almost scream when sonnett claps your back and leans over you. 

“emily sonnett! what is wrong with you!”

the defender just laughs. 

“what do you want?”

“you know what i want. who are you banging?”

kristie chokes on her bite of food next to you.  

“i told you already, no one.”

sonnett rolls her eyes and opts to question kristie, who’s currently coughing, instead. 

“hey you and y/n are close, do you know?”

kristie finishes coughing and locks eyes with you, smirking. 

“i don’t know y/n, who are you banging?”

you roll your eyes and stand up. 

“y’all are annoying.”

you throw away the remnants of your lunch and meet kristie’s eyes, who takes the hint and gets up too. 

unbeknownst to you, rose is watching your every move, and seeing the exchange, gets up to follow you. 

~~

as soon as the elevator door closes, you push kristie into the corner. 

“hey.”

kristie grins and gives you a kiss. 

“hey to you too.”

the two of you meet again, but you pull back after a few seconds. 

“do you think it’s time to tell them?”

 kristie sighs. 

“i don’t know, we could just have them figure it out themselves.”

“true. b-“

kristie shushes you. 

“less talking, more doing whatever we were doing before.”

you grin and comply, the two of you so caught up in kissing that you don’t hear the elevator doors open. 

“OH MY FUCKING GOD I KNEW IT!”

you spring apart so abruptly you hit your head on the wall. 

rose stands before you panting slightly, but more excited than anything. 

you furrow your brows in confusion. 

“how did- we took the elevator-“

kristie butts in. 

“di-did you run up the stairs?”

rose nods regretfully. 

“all six floors?”

she nods again. 

“but how did you-“

“okay enough about me!”

rose grabs your arms and pulls the two of you out of the elevator and into the hallway. 

“how long-”

you finish for her.

“-is my dick?”

kristie smacks your arm and rose rolls her eyes. 

you hold you hands up in defense. 

kristie shakes her head and pinches the bridge of her nose. 

“i’m dating a child.”

rose asks again. 

“how long have you been together?”

you grin and give kristie a kiss on the cheek before saying:

“a little over a month.”

rose squeals in excitement. 

“wait does sam know?”

“do i know what?”

the three of you spin around to see sam stepping out of the elevator with a confused look on her face. 

when you remain silent, she asks again. 

“what did i miss?”

rose saves the two of you.  

well. 

sort of. 

“we’re talking about y/n’s hickies! have you seen them?”

sam replies in the negative. 

she leans in and inspects your neck, and over her head you catch kristie’s glare directed at rose. 

“these are fresh! so it’s someone at camp!”

rose agrees with her. 

“that’s what i said! but she denies it!”

“y/n.” 

you look up at them.

“yes?”

“tell us.”

“nope.”

“please?”

“nope.”

~~

you should’ve known that they wouldn’t let you off the hook that quickly. 

team movie night was happening, and kristie knocked on your shared room a whole 30 minutes before it began. 

abby was the one who opened it. 

“oh kristie, hey, you know it doesn’t start for like another half an hour right?” 

you sneak up behind abby and grin. 

“she knows.”

abby’s eyes flicker between the two of you when it hits her. 

she makes an “oh” face and lets your girlfriend in.

“please don’t have sex while i’m here.” 

you assure her.

“don’t worry, wasn’t planning on it.”

luckily for you, your best friend wasn’t as pushy or nosy as the rest of the team was. 

you could tell there were questions she wanted to ask, but abby being abby, refrained from doing so. 

so all was well. 

for those thirty minutes. 

and then the rest of the team arrived. 

~~ 

“all in favor of skipping movie night for a non alcoholic version of never have i ever say aye!”

following kelley’s exclamation, a loud cacophony of “aye’s” could be heard throughout the room. 

you rolled your eyes. 

of course.

you turn towards your girlfriend who shrugs. 

“alright everyone make a circle make a circle!”

you get dragged by abby to sit next to her, across from kristie, who’s sitting next to sam. 

kristie meets your eyes and you both smile a little. 

then the game started. 

it was innocent enough at first. 

“okay never have i ever ridden a ferris wheel!”

everyone groans. 

“really sam?!”

“that’s so lame!”

and then after a few rounds it got interesting. 

“never have i ever dated a national team teammate!”

rose stared at you when she said it. 

you shoot her a glare and try to non conspicuously take a sip of your drink, kristie doing the same. 

“NO! KRISTIE!” sam exclaimed in shock. 

kristie rolled her eyes. 

“surprise?”

sam gave her a look that read we need to talk later.

you get the same treatment from the kids.

“wait y/n who have you dated?!”

“is that who gave you the hickies?!”

“is-“

you cut them off.  

“OKAY next one.”

suddenly sam stands up when her phone rings: 

“wait hold on pat’s calling me.”

everyone awws and sam rolls her eyes, before stepping out into the hallway to take the phone call.

kelley pipes in to continue and you groan when you hear it.

“never have i ever had sex in the past week.” 

you meet kristie’s eyes and both of you blush, grabbing your drinks along with tobin and christen.

“NO WAY! I-“

lindsey promptly slaps a hand over sonnett’s mouth to shut her up. 

it takes a second for it to click. 

then everyone starts talking at once. 

“I KNEW IT!”

“DAMN YOU’RE LUCKY SAM ISNT IN HERE!”

“IS THAT WHY YOU ASKED TO BORROW MY ROOM UGH GROSS!”

you yell at them to shut up. 

“OKAY!”

you look at kristie apologetically, who just shrugs and smiles at you. 

you look at everyone and say: 

“okay you get three questions collectively.”

christen pipes in first. 

“how long?”

kristie answers. 

“a little over a month-.”

sonnett cuts off the rest of your sentence.

“how the fuck did you keep it a secret for that long?!”

“is that your second question?”

everyone glares at the blonde defender almost immediately. 

“sorry sorry.”

“does sam know?”

you both shake your head.

“alright one question left.”

“how’s the sex?” 

that question is followed by a “kelley!” and a slap. 

kristie responds to it nonetheless, accompanying the end with a wink.

“great thanks for asking.”

you blush and the rest of the team gags.

“hey what’d i miss?”

oh right. sam. 

“we just finished up another round.”

“oh cool what was the question?”

“never have i ever had sex in the past week.”

sam scrunches up her face.

“that’s a boring one. i mean it would just be tobin and christen right?”

~~

a week later, she found out.

“WOULD ANYONE CARE TO EXPLAIN WHAT IVE JUST UNWILLINGLY WITNESSED?!!”

sam’s shriek wakes both of you up. 

your heart was hammering in your chest under the blanket you pulled over yourself.

kristie just groaned and pulled her pillow over her head.

“AGAIN I WOULD LIKE TO HAVE AN EXPLANATION!”

kristie mumbled under the pillow:

“surprise, we’re dating.”

sam’s face softened. 

“you’re dating?” 

kristie sat up. 

“yes. how’d you even get in this room?”

“jane gave me your keycard.”

“ah.”

“you’re really dating?”

“yes.”

sam claps happily. 

“i have to call pat now! we can go on double dates omg this’ll be so fun!”

sam sits down on the opposite bed and grins. 

“y/n you can stop hiding now.”

from under the covers you mumble:

“i’m not wearing anything.”

sam crinkles her nose in disgust. 

“okay never mind then.”

you take a peek at sam, who’s smiling widely and happily, and then at kristie, who’s watching you with a loving smile. 

seeing her, you temporarily forget sam’s there and give your girlfriend a quick kiss.

“hey.”

kristie smiles back.

“good morning you.”

sam’s watching the interaction with a shit eating grin, and when you move to kiss kristie again, she covers her eyes.

“ew y/n you just side boobed me.”

you flip her off and kiss your girlfriend anyway.