#it’s for a lecture too i’m gonna literally forget everything

[vinnyandthephenomena]

waking up early on tuesday please save me

[cockslutpadalecki]

It’s Chemicals That Make Me Cling To You

Summary: It’s clear how you both feel about each other, but you’re both too stubborn— too afraid to voice what you fear most.

Characters: Joel Miller x F!Reader.

Words: 1.4K.

Warnings: heavy angst, smut with feelings, age gap relationship, vaginal sex, a dash of daddy kink, multiple orgasms, 18+. MINORS DNI.

A/N: This was meant to be filth, but the angst gods weren’t happy. Beta: @princessmisery666​ but all the general bullshit is entirely mine. While likes are gold, feedback is golden. Please support our content creators by sharing our work.

Joel hasn’t spoken to you in days. Literal days. And that’s not even by your standards of over-exaggeration. 

At first you don’t care— thankful for a moment of peace from his berating voice. And on the surface, you keep up appearances— not wanting to show him you hate the silence. Hate the way he still manages to chide you with just a look.

Once dawn breaks on day three, you’ve had enough.

One tiny stupid decision leads to another. And then one more, the snowball effect apparent as Joel finds you holed up in the basement of the hotel, infected dead scattered at your feet.

You beg for the silence back when he opens his mouth. 

How could you be so stupid?

Think you can handle surviving on your own? 

You almost got yourself bit.

He kicks a body out of his way as you snip back, “Well, I didn’t,” like a fucking child. 

“And if you had? What would you have done?” Joel asks, retreating to re-hoister his gun.  

“Spare me the fuckin’ lecture,” you mutter under your breath.

He closes the gap between you, lips tight in a scowl. He smells like dirt, sweat, a hint of something sweet beneath the surface. It’s perfectly Joel. “You wanna repeat that?”

“Nah, I’m good.” You give a little shrug, watching his eyes spark with ire. 

He reaches up, grabbing the collar of your jacket and tugs you towards him. “I just saved your damn life, you ungrateful little shit,” he spits, his breath hot on your cheek, “and you’re not even gonna thank me?” 

“Thank you, but I was handling it just fine.” 

“Oh, handling it, huh?” Joel smiles sarcastically, the dimple in his cheek deepening beneath stray salt and pepper hairs. “Guess I’ll just leave you to it then,” he adds, signalling over his shoulder with his head at the deceased surrounding you, “y’know, seeing as you’ve got everything under control.” 

His grip loosens from your jacket, stepping back. The dissipating heat from his body leaves you cold. Needy.

“Don’t,” you rush out as he reaches down for his discarded backpack.

Joel straightens at the sound, eyes narrow. “Don’t, what?” 

He wants the affirmation that you need him as much as he does you. Even if he won’t admit it. Stolen, heated trysts in the dark are your wordless compromise. You don’t declare your feelings, and in return, he’ll give you intimacy. You try to fool yourself, it's merely physical, but the longing is there. Sitting deep in your chest like a wound— the scar on the surface long gone, but you can still feel the ache every time you move.

The space closes again as he drags himself towards you, boots scraping across the debris-strewn floor. His warmth returns, bringing with it a familiar stir of heat to your gut.

“Don’t,” you let the word linger on your tongue, feeding Joel’s anticipation before snatching it away, “forget your knife.” 

Tongue caught between his teeth, he laughs, unamused. You wait, hoping he’ll crumble but your anticipation is snatched from you as he bends over, scooping up the weapon at his feet.

His bag follows, swung onto his shoulder in one fluid motion before he’s turning away from you and heads toward the door. 

Rejection burns hot in your veins as you stare at the back of his head, watching his form retreat the further he moves away. What do you have to do to get him to open up to you? Die? 

Swallowing thickly, you battle internally with yourself before rushing after him. You manage to catch up, running in front of him but Joel keeps walking, forcing you to scuttle backwards in tiny, awkward steps. 

“Don’t,” you breathe out, “go.” 

“But you can handle it yourself,” he shrugs. “You don’t need me.” 

“I do,” you protest and Joel stops in his tracks, staring down at you, his dark eyes searching. “I need you.” 

“No, you don’t.” He starts striding forward again, past you, but you quickly block his path. This time you skip the begging and pleading, hurrying onto your tiptoes to press your lips to his. 

“I need you,” you repeat, this time your voice oozing with more than just desperation. He stares forward, unbothered. 

It bothers you. 

“Joel,” you hum. Cupping his jaw with your hands, fingers smooth through black and gray as you encourage him to look down at you. His eyes are still dark when they flicker in your direction, but they no longer feel cold— devoid of emotion.

You whisper his name once or twice more, but it does nothing to stir warmth into his features. 

Eventually you purr, “Daddy, please,” and pepper his mouth with dozens of tiny kisses. You let the last deepen, nipping his bottom lip with the edges of your teeth. 

Feeling his breath rattle and catch in his throat, hubris swells inside you, proud that you’ve chipped away at part of his resolve. You slide a hand down his chest, over the belt at his waist, and pause for a beat. 

It’s too long to wait. Joel reacts before you can grab his cock, and wraps his fingers tightly around your wrist. 

Joel smashes his lips against yours— hot, wet, starved kisses that make you breathless. Hurried steps force you backwards until you collide with the wall, while hurried fingers flick open the button on your jeans, giving him the opportunity to slide his hand beneath the fabric.

Stomach twisting with dirty arousal, your eyes flutter, unable to focus. You melt into his touch like candle wax, dripping onto his fingers as they slip through your silken heat. 

He needs no instruction— the intricate details of your body are etched into his brain like a mind map because despite your taunt, Joel has you unraveling like a spool of thread against his palm within minutes. 

Your scream bubbles in the back of your throat, but before it can pierce the quiet air, his spare hand clamps hurriedly over your mouth.

“Ssh.” He kisses hot to your lips when he removes his hand. “You know better.”

You groan inwardly, body still pulsing as Joel strips off your jeans, tugging them roughly down your thighs. Dirty denim hangs limply from your sneaker when he picks you up, your legs curling around his waist. 

He’s inside you within the time it takes for you to inhale, the first drive of his cock stealing your breath.

Joel fucks you in silence. Unsaid words hang in the air. Heated praise and affection get lost, buried beneath closed lips. Too afraid to voice them. Slaps of wet pierce through the quiet, shattering the absence of sound as he pulls you back and forth along his cock.

It hurts, but not in the physical sense. A deep ache sets in beneath your ribs. The kind that won’t go away with pills or alcohol, but the sort of dull throb that intensifies the longer time ticks by.  

He buries his face into the slant of your neck, damp-heavy kisses dance over your skin— painfully delicate in comparison to the way he fucks you in needy haste. You try to speak, muttering his name, but his hand moves to cover your mouth again. 

“Silent,” is all he husks into your ear, his thrusts slow and deep. How he expects you to be quiet while he’s inside you— like this— it’s impossible. 

It makes you wonder if he’s afraid that you’ll let something spill from your lips that you shouldn’t. Something that will infect you both, changing the dynamic forever. Something you can’t take back, a death sentence. But there’s already the unspoken that lingers between you, hiding in plain sight. 

Instead, you swallow down your moans, letting them stack up in your chest like dominoes until you come again, and they tumble from your lips— muted, but no less frantic. 

When Joel pulls back to look at you, he doesn’t verbalise what he’s thinking— he barely ever does— but you can hear it in the way he takes you in. 

Idiot, I almost lost you.

Breath sticky hot, his lips graze yours with intent. “Make another sound and I’ll shove my cock down your throat.” 

Eh. Close enough. 

You nod slow. Understanding. 

“Good girl,” he mouths before burying his face back into the crease of your neck. Tears gather while you cling to him as he comes, his teeth sharp against your skin in an attempt to silence his own moans.

Maybe he doesn’t see it, but you suspect he does. You’re already infected, and just like there’s no cure for the parasite ripping apart mankind, there’s no cure for loving Joel.

***

4EVS: @amirra88​ @andreasworlsboring101​ @b3autyfuldisast3r​ @cheesyclaire​ @chibijusstuff​ @callsignrambam​ @dangertoozmanykids101​ @daughterofthenight117​ @doozywoozy​ @foxyjwls007​ @geekofmanyforms​ @heyyouwiththeassbutt​ @i-opened-the-chamber-of-secrets​ @ilovefanfic86​ @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay​ @letsby​ @letsdisneythings​ @labella420​ @mogaruke​ @maliburenee​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @nik2writes​ @obsessivelycapricious​ @patrick-hockslutter​ @princessmisery666​ @phildunphyisadilf​ @sage-writing​ @sea040561​ @sweeterthanthis​ @slutformarvelmen​ @smokeandnailz​ @stoneyggirl​ @stoneyggirl2​ @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91​ @thegirlnextdoorssister​ @unfortunate-brat​ @wayward-dreamer​ @warriorqueen1991​ @xoxabs88xox​

[wake-up-get-up-get-out-there]

Reblog with your favorite quote(s) from each playable character! I’ll go first (but fair warning I’m gonna break the rules lulz)

Joker:

Everything he says

“You need proper punishment.”

His Persona cry

“Die, die, DIE!”

His evil laugh when using Phantom Snow

“Something witty.”

“Literally do not care.”

Ryuji:

“That’s all she wrote!”

“Ohh, shit! That was freakin’ amazing, Joker!”

“Ain’t this supposed to be a vacation? Why are we being forced to do manual labor? This is bullshit!”

Whatever he says to Joker before he leaves town. I don’t remember the exact thing but it was really sweet

“Hell no, you idiot!”

“Bull. Shit. I don’t hear any other sounds. Heh, I bet you’re at home.”

“Uhh…w-why?”

“Uh, you can’t slice the Metaverse, dude. Just save it for the Shadows.”

“Sorry about that.”

“What the eff? Ain’t this your Palace?”

“Wait, ain’t that bad?”

“I-I can’t handle your technical speak! Just give it to me straight!”

Morgana:

Nothing

“Game. Over.”

His scream after Joker and Ryuji leave him in Kamoshida’s Palace ‘cause it doesn’t fit at all with what his model’s doing

Ann:

“Squeal like a pig!”

“That HURT!”

Her scream when she yeets Morgana in Futaba’s Palace lmao

“We got a Will Seed! It’s sooooo creepy…”

Yusuke:

“H-How dare you say that to me? Of all people?!”

“Your impure motives are far too obvious…”

“Damned Metaverse…I vow to slice you to ribbons!”

Makoto:

“FIST OF JUSTICE!”

“Don’t forget this feeling.”

“Don’t tell me you ate it!”

Futaba:

“Ugh, go to hell, Inari.”

“And there it goes. Good one, Crow!”

“You wouldn’t know aesthetics if it hit you in the face, Inari!”

Haru:

“Perrsoooonaaaaa!”

Her giggle

Akechi:

“PERRSOOONAAAAH!”

“MANIFEST!”

“You thought you’d already won?”

“Don’t lecture me, you piece of shit!”

Sumire:

“Senpai!”

“You’re starting the year with quite the…passionate wish, senpai.”

“Hello…senpai!”

“Victory is ours!”

[diamondbreakingboi]

Chapter: 1/1

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Fandom: Transformers (IDW Generation One)

Relationship: Drift | Deadlock/Ratchet

Characters: Drift | Deadlock, Ratchet

Additional Tags: Domestic Fluff, Sleepy Time

Summary: After a long day, Drift and Ratchet finally have time for themselves.

...

Short snippet for my beloved old married couple! I LOVE these two and I've always wanted to contribute something for them, so here you go! I hope you enjoy it!

...

Drift dived into the soft bedding of their large berth as soon as the door to their apartment opened.

He curled his entire figure around the plethora of blankets. He poked his head out to watch the other, patiently waiting for berth time. No one could blame him for wishing his conjunx was in berth with him.

“Come on,” Drift squirmed and flopped around in the blankets so Ratchet could see his pout.

If only he was looking in his direction, he would immediately drop everything he was doing and fall victim to Drift whims. It happened one fateful day when Ratchet literally dropped what he was doing and gave Drift his attention, which happened to be the mech’s leg that was currently being reattached. The mech was fine and Ratchet was upset for several days after, but it is a day that Drift refuses to let Ratchet live down. It’s not everyday you fluster the great, former, CMO Ratchet enough to make him forget his lifelong profession and current actions.

“Quit your whining, I’m almost done,” Ratchet called.

He was rearranging the scattered datapads from earlier in the morning. Assorted medical datapads with old and new techniques alike. He was brushing up for his next lecture only to be interrupted by an early emergency. Ratchet helped out at the local clinic in his spare time, despite being retired for several vorns now, much to Drift’s chagrin. But to appease him, Ratchet did allow, not that he needed it yet, he did appreciate Ratchet graciously giving it nonetheless, Drift to come along and give his assistance there.

Ratchet was being too slow, and while he could get up to help, he’s far too busy being comfortable and decidedly stays there annoying his conjunx, like a good conjunx should. “Ratty! I’m sleepy!”

“How many times have I told you not to call me that?”

Drift smiled brightly. “Not enough.”

“Mhm.”

“I’m so cold without you here,” Drift complained.

“I don’t know how. You practically own a thousand blankets,” Ratchet grumbled. “There’s almost no room for me in there.”

Ratchet made his way over to the berth finally.

Drift giggled as he hid under the blankets. After a few more moments, Drift heard Ratchet clear his intake behind him.

“Are you gonna roll over?” A servo rubbed his shoulder gently and moved him so his body turned, but he smashed his face further in the pillow. “Did you hear me, Drift?”

Drift hummed and shrugged. “Go ahead. I’m not stopping you.”

“I can't because last time I checked, that’s my pillow,” Ratchet chuckled and poked Drift's shoulder.

“Not anymore,” Drift giggled, rubbing his face against it, sending a mischievous smirk towards Ratchet.

Ratchet pushed lightly against him. “You were one complaining about being cold," Ratchet said. "So, come on, scoot.”

Drift’s spark fluttered under Ratchet’s gentle glare and how his protoform scrunched up around his optics and laugh lines. Drift smirked. “Make me.”

Ratchet barely raised an optical ridge before diving for him, servos first.

Drift busted out laughing as Ratchet relentlessly tickled his sensitive sides, easily digging into his seams from years of practice.

Drift tried wiggling out of his grasp and tried grabbing the other’s hands but as his laughter rippled through them, Drift could not hold off the other. Despite being strong enough to push away mechs triple Ratchet’s size, he didn’t want to, he wanted to stay stuck in Ratchet’s arms for the rest of his life, however long or short it remains to be.

Alas, as with most things, fate had other plans. And his frame had limits. His intake and sides ached out, seeking an end to the joyous abuse..

His protests bubbled out in between his gasping laughter. “Stop, stop! I yield!”

“Then move,” Ratchet chuckled, ducking down to kiss Drift’s nose.

Drift rolled over to the other side of the berth with barely enough room for the other.

Ratchet laid down on the berth. He slowly vented, then looked over to Drift. A soft smile played on his dermas, content and besotted under their soft glow.

“Goodnight, Ratty,” Drift said. He smiled brightly despite recharge catching on the edges of his optics, slowly and softly consuming.

Ratchet rolled his eyes and let the other nuzzle up underneath his chin and curl up into his strong arms. While it took him forever to relax in another's presence, it comes far too easily now, almost as if his very frame was built to be held by Ratchet.

Ratchet kissed Drift’s forehelm gently. “Night, Drift,” he murmured.

Much like the nights before and the many to follow, there they recharged in each other's arms, soft and warm, under that golden, caramelized, fading sun.

[anothermansjeans]

my manager is really living rent free in my mind lately because of how pissed off he got me 😩

[miekasa]

mie….could we please get college au eren headcanons👉🏽👈🏽

Of course. I’m always thinking about his big head anyway <33 might as well put it good use.

One thing he learned in college is how to make his hyperfocus/fixation episodes work for him; that’s why he schedules all his classes as close together as possible. He’d rather have class back to back for 5 hours, than have it spread out with hours in between lectures, because that increases his changes of cutting.

You can always tell when he’s in class and/or what class he’s in by how much he responds to your messages. If he doesn’t text back at all, he’s in a class that hard or one he enjoys, or both. But if he’s sending you iMessage games, then you know he’s in his elective that he couldn’t care else about (and is probably cheating in someway somehow lmfao). 

He usually puts his phone on dnd when he’s in a class that’s important, but you’re in his favorite contacts, so your messages always ring through. What if it’s an emergency and you need him for something? Advanced Roots of Human Biology can wait. 

Some days there are one or two our breaks between his lectures, that’s just how the scheduling works out. When that happens, he usually sneaks into one of your lectures, or goes to your place to take a nap. Your roommates have become accustomed to him, honestly they’ve been considering giving him a key. 

Once, he didn’t realize that your lecture was basically a seminar, with you, the prof and maybe six other students. He still stayed lmao, and the prof was so amazed by his dedication, that she didn’t even mind. Occasionally, you’ll catch the two of them talking after lecture. It’s pretty cute the way she’s adopted him into the class even tho he’s not on the roster. 

You... have to show him where the library is lmfao. He genuinely has not stepped foot in one until you bring him to one. He likes it tho lmao once he gets used to it. 

Speaking of which, do not give him standard directions to find your classes on campus because all you’ll get is, “Babe, I’m gonna keep it real with you, I’ve never heard of the ‘West Quad’ a day in my life. What building are you near.”

He usually comes to see you in the library after all his lectures are done for the day. Sometimes he does homework, sometimes he’s just fucking around on his computer, sometimes he’s just bothering you. When you have to leave to go to class, he stays behind to watch your stuff so you don’t have to pack everything up and come back. 

Very protective when it comes to keeping your seat for you. No, you cannot take that chair to your table you good for nothing freshman; it’s reserved for you. 

He’ll drag you out of the library if you’ve been cooped up all day, tho. Eren will use his height and his strength against you to get you up. Placates you with kisses when he sees your angry expression, and promises to buy you food.

He takes your backpack for you when you’re walking together,m. His backpack is frustratingly light all the time, even during midterms. You swear all he’s got in there is a pencil and some flashcards. 

If you have night classes, he sticks around to walk you home after, especially in the winter when it gets dark faster. If he’s not already on campus, he’ll walk/drive back to meet you; he just doesn’t like you going home alone. Even if your friend/roommate is in the class with you, Eren will walk or drive the both of you home for his own sanity. 

He plays sports, so he usually has practice most evenings, but he’ll find a way to make time. If practice was particularly brutal, he’ll probably crash at your place.

He loves it when you come to meet him after practice. His whole face lights up and he waves obnoxiously, before he gathers up his stuff and all but sprints towards you. You get a cold water bottle to the face, or a bit of water splashed on you usually, which he takes immense amusement in. 

He knows it’s not possible for you to make it to all of his games, and usually it doesn’t bother him much; you’ve got your own life, and work to worry about. All he asks is that you wear his jersey, or any item of his sports apparel/merch on game day (he’s partial to hoodies).

By the time junior year rolls around, he’s not all that interested in attending parties that aren’t hosted by your friends; so, unless it’s at Connie, Jean, or Reiner and Bertholdt’s place, Eren will usually decline. Even team parties, he’s not crazy about unless it’s to celebrate a championship or something. He’d much rather celebrate with you. 

He does get excited about hosting parties though, and he and Jean become pretty damn good co-hosts. They don’t throw ragers, and that’s probably why Eren likes it so much. It’s usually your friend group and a couple plus ones, some good music, games, weed, and take-out. 

He’ll buy you coffee whenever you ask for it. The first time, he just orders something plain, not really knowing the difference between anything; but give it two or three tries, and he’ll get it perfect. He becomes so good that he can order you something new/different and you’ll love it. 

That’s kind of the start of his own coffee addiction, and more often than not, when he buys you a cup, he’s on his second or third of the day himself. The flavor has really grown on him, okay. 

He much prefers your apartment, but on occasion, he’ll ask you to come to his. You’ve been studying for so long, a change of environment should do you good, he claims. He’s a fucking liar tho because that’s all Eren Talk for “I do genuinely want you to come over, but my plans are to coerce you out of doing your assignments and doing me instead.”

Lmfao he adds you on Apple Watch Rings just so you can see him close his rings every day and laugh at you. Even if yours get closed by virtue of walking around campus or working out or whatever, his numbers are stupidly high because he fucking has practice at least 4 days of the week. 

Of course when you’re running on a soccer field for 2 hours every day, you close your Move Ring five times, Eren. Leave the rest of us alone. 

He buys you guys matching accessories for your keychains. It’s something pretty cute, and slightly random, but it reminded him of you. It also serves as a reminder to himself to take his fucking keys with him when he leaves his house. 

He sleeps like a fucking rock, so do not let him fall asleep in the library. Waking him up is a mission, and he’s never happy to be woken up. He looks kinda cute tho. 

He schedules dates for you and his friends. Usually by accident, but hear me out. Sometimes he’ll make plans with Armin, then forget that he has class or a test or something; so his solution is to text you, “hey, i forgot min and i were supposed to go some aquarium tomorrow but i have a midterm so here’s the pdf of my ticket, go with him for me, thanks babe love u” then, boop, you and Armin have an aquarium date Friday evening. 

The same thing happens with Mikasa, though, she usually catches the scheduling conflict before Eren does, and invites you out herself. You and Mikasa hang out quite a bit anyway, so it comes to the point where she tells you when she’s gonna hang out with Eren, so you can make yourself free for when he inevitably remember he has a game that day. 

Mikasa is most amazed that you’ve put up with Eren this long lmao. You’ve certainly lessened her Eren & Armin babysitting hours, and for that she’s eternally grateful. Also, she’s just happy to have another close friend. She loves Eren and Armin, but they’re not the most social beings, and she was literally their only friend besides the other for all their childhood PLEASE she’s so happy you’re around. 

It’s Mikasa, however, who babysits you and Eren whenever you both get too drunk. Says you guys are two peas in a pod (affectionate<2)

If you tell Eren something important that happened, like an internship you got, or a good grade in a class, or something, he usually relays that information to his mom pls. He texts her every day, and if she doesn’t ask for an update on you first, he gives her one.

Carla calls you sometimes, too. At least once every few weeks, just to check on you herself. She really likes you for Eren, and is grateful someone is willing to put up with her hotheaded son. 

Eren’s always using your fucking chapstick. Always. You know he has his own, so why he needs to use yours is beyond you. Finds time to make some dumbass comment about how it’s an “indirect kiss” every time he uses it too. Like bro, we’re dating, and have had many direct kisses why are you like this.

He posts on Instagram every few weeks or so, but you’re on his story every few days. Usually, it’s just a video of you minding your business and doing your work while Eren slowly zooms in before making some loud noise to surprise you, all so he can get your reaction on video and laugh at it. He’s annoying. 

He’s a bit of a copycat when it comes to the products you use. He’ll buy the same brand of pens as you (for that matter, all of his school supplies mirror yours because what does he know about the difference between A4 and A5 notebooks?), put a little hand sanitizer on his backpack like yours (and a lotion, too, for good measure), he even copies your Starbucks order until he finds one he likes for himself. It’s one of his love languages <3

If you’re wondering where your eyelash curler went, Eren stole it to try it on himself, hurt himself, vowed to never use it again, went back because he wanted to “do it right and not give up,” liked the results when he didn’t pinch his eyelid, and now it’s his. 

That being said, stop trying to put your Fenty lipgloss on him, it’s never going to happen. Eye makeup, maybe, only if you sit in his lap and he can have his hands on your ass while you do it. 

What he does love is letting you do his skincare. He will set aside dedicated skincare nights, he adores it. Easily one of his favorite things ever. 

You have his wallet. Not because he’s your sugar daddy or anything (although, if you want something, he’d definitely let you use his card to get it; and even if you bought something without asking, he wouldn’t think twice about it), but because he put it in your bag once and never took it out. 

When you tried to give it back, he just shook his head and told you to keep it, “I have my ID in my phone case anyway, and you’re less likely to lose it. Plus I put all my cards on Apple Pay, so I’m good.”

When you do make it to a game of his, he’s all over you when it’s over. Not in a cocky athlete boyfriend kind of way; in a very sleepy boyfriend kind of way. He’s usually got ice on at least one part of his body, and he’s got half his body weight on you as you walk to the car. 

By the time you guys get back to your place, he’s practically sleep walking. The only thing on his mind is taking a hot shower to soothe his muscles, and heading to bed. The aftermath of game days aren’t all that bad though, because even if you didn’t show, you’re always there to kiss him when he’s home and massage his shoulders, and cuddle him to sleep; and that’s his favorite part. 

[seijorhi]

Choke.

another soulmate au nobody asked for :)

Akaashi Keiji x female reader x Bokuto Koutarou

TW dub-con, implied future non-con

It wasn’t a good day to begin with.

You’re late, rushing through the busy campus hallways to make it to an exam that quite frankly you’re at least 70% sure you’re going to fail, mostly because instead of cramming last night you’d been… otherwise occupied with your boyfriend.

And you really, really just want this whole thing to just be over with already.

With your nose stuck in your textbook, frantically pouring over your notes right up until the very last second, it’s hardly a surprise that you don’t see the two of them rushing down the hallway in the opposite direction until you’re quite literally colliding with the taller of the pair – the broad shouldered one.

Your notes go flying, the last of your coffee too and for one split second, you’re pretty positive that you’re gonna end up flat on your ass with a little more than some bruised pride. But just as you’re about to hit the ground, not one but two hands reach for you, catch you, and the very second they do, you feel it:

A flash of guilt and momentary alarm, embarrassment, you think, and chagrin, each emotion hitting you like a sledgehammer, overwhelming you, one after the other in a dizzying blur that’s distinctly other, and then–

Shock.

Dawning surprise. 

A rush of something warm, adoring, a happiness so bright and blinding that it makes you physically jerk backwards, almost slamming your head against the wall in the process. And two pairs of eyes – one a deep, luminous gold, the other a cool, gunmetal blue – stare at you in wide eyed wonder a split millisecond before you wrench yourself free, gasping. 

The moment their grip falters, the torrent stops. You can breathe.

Blessed silence, save for the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears. Everything fades out around you – the students and lecturers alike bustling through the busy hallway, the humming drone of chatter that’s nearly deafening. Nothing exists but the three of you; caught in your little bubble.

And it’s dread, you think, that seeps through your blood as you stare at them. 

They’re both handsome, albeit in their own ways. The taller of the two – the one who’d almost barrelled you over – looks like he could probably bench press you without breaking a sweat. His shirt isn’t exactly clinging to him, but you can see the hints of well defined muscles beneath, and the size of his biceps alone are enough to make your heart skip a beat and your mouth dry up a little. With rippling muscles, spiky black and silver hair, a strong jawline and those round, golden eyes, he looks like a modern day adonis. 

His friend might’ve been shorter, his build leaner, but with his softer features, pretty eyes and dark hair, you think he’s perhaps the prettiest man you’ve ever laid eyes on. From the fineness of his nose to the gentle curve of his lips and his long, dark sweeping eyelashes, he reminds you of those white marble statues you’ve seen before in museums and art galleries– a beauty so divine, so perfect – so devastating – that it steals your breath a little.

And they’re both watching you, frozen entirely. Smiling in breathless delight, as if they can’t quite believe it either.

Soulmates. 

You’ve spent your whole life wondering what it would be like, experiencing somebody else’s emotions. Studies have been done and countless books and articles written about the bond between soulmates; the intimacy of sharing emotions through touch, but nobody really knows why or how it happens.  

And for some, it’s a subtle thing. A suggestion, a whisper against their own consciousness, easily brushed aside. Others feel it stronger. 

For you, it was like drowning. Choking under the sudden, intense barrage of feelings that weren’t yours. Maybe it’s because there’s two of them – and that much at least you’re sure of. You don’t have the words to explain it, but they’d felt separate somehow, distinctive from one another – kind of like fingerprints, you suppose.

There’s no denying the bond, no denying that they’re both your soulmates, and all you can think of is that you don’t want it. Not here, not now. Not them.

The dark haired one seems to realise quicker than his friend that you’re not reacting how you’re supposed to, you’re just standing there, rigid and tense, gaping at them. And the slight smile that graced his perfect lips starts to waver, his brows drawing together when finally his friend cottons on.

He reaches for you, the beginnings of a pout taking shape on his face, and you move without even thinking, jerking out of reach with a sharp breath. His hand hangs outstretched for a beat too long, a noise like a kicked puppy leaving his lips as he realises that you’re flinching away from him; away from your soulmate. He looks heartbroken, and he’s yet to utter a single word. 

You don’t give him a chance. You’re not some cold, unfeeling beast; there’s a twinge in your heart, a heaviness that’s far too close to guilt settling in your stomach, but you just can’t. And with shaking hands you bend over and hastily grab up your things, forcing yourself not to meet their confused, hurt stares when you right yourself. 

“I– I’m sorry,” you murmur, and before either one of them can try to stop you, you disappear into the crowd, racing for your exam. 

—

The lights are on when you make it back home, the familiar, comforting scent of home cooked food filling your apartment.

“Hey, babe,” your boyfriend calls out as you wearily drop your purse by the door and kick out of your shoes. His back’s to you, attention fixed on the simmering saucepan on the stovetop, but he glances over his shoulder as he continues, “How’d your exam go?”

And you can’t help it, you burst into tears.

Painful, heaving sobs that might’ve had you collapsing onto the floor if he hadn’t swept across the room to snatch you up into his arms. “That bad, huh?” Kuguri jokes, but the words sound hollow.

“I found them,” you mutter into his chest, and the way he stiffens, his grip tightening for just a moment has your heart breaking all over again. 

Kuguri doesn’t say much as he leads you to the couch, he just lets you talk. It’s almost worse, you think, the way he doesn’t react. 

Because you both knew this was coming at some point. For months you’ve tried to convince yourself that you could feel him when you were together.

You felt his love when he held you, right?

Happy when he was happy?

But you’d known, both of you, that as much as you wished it otherwise, he wasn’t your soulmate, and you weren’t his. And whether it was today or six months down the line, this was always going to happen.

“You don’t have to…” you trail off, searching his eyes desperately for anything other than the gentle resignation lingering there. “I love you.”

He smiles at that, cups your cheek in his hand and brushes away the stray tear that spills. “I know you do, but–” it’s not enough. “They’re your soulmates. Don’t you think they deserve a chance to make you happy?”

He’s gone when you wake the next morning.

—

In a university of thousands, a sprawling city campus, you honestly believe that in spite of everything, you probably won’t see them again. They don’t know your name, or what you study, you don’t live in the dorms like some of the other students; the chances of just randomly bumping into them again are slim, soulmates or no.

Of course, there are facebook groups and pages set up to reconnect lost soulmates, but you’d have to actually want to find them to try something like that.

(Part of you wonders whether they’ve tried)

The universe has a sense of humour, it seems, because when your paths cross next, it’s not at uni, it’s at the little corner store a few blocks down from your apartment. 

At 2am in the morning. 

And you’re staring intently at the freezer, mentally weighing up exactly what kind of ice cream you need to sate your craving when you hear the sharp intake of breath behind you.

“Holy crap, you’re here.”

It’s stupid, you think, the way your stomach flutters when you turn to find him staring in wide eyed wonder; the taller one, with the spiky hair and those impossibly wide, honey eyes.

He’s smiling, his entire face lit up like a christmas tree at the sight of you. As if you hadn’t run off without so much as an acknowledgement the last time you’d met. As if seeing you here, looking like shit – makeup free and dressed in your old favourite sweats – is the absolute best thing that could have happened.

And when your cheeks grow hot, you’re not entirely sure if it’s embarrassment over the way you look, the fact that he’s caught you buying ice cream that you fully intend to let melt just a little bit before polishing off at two in the morning, or if it’s shame over how badly you’d reacted the last time you’d seen him.

But if he notices your inner turmoil, he doesn’t show it, grinning widely as he calls back over his shoulder, “Akaashi!”

You still haven’t uttered a peep, haven’t moved. Just like last time you’re caught feeling like a kid with their hand stuck in the cookie jar as your other soulmate rounds the corner, his attention fixed on the ingredients list of the rice cracker snacks in his hands, a basket full of groceries tucked into the crook of his elbow.

“Bokuto, I was just around the corner, there’s no need to shout.”

Pretty steel blue eyes flicker up for a split second, then quickly do a double take as he realises that it’s you – his errant soulmate, standing struck dumb, here of all places. “Oh.”

Oh. 

Akaashi eyes you for a moment, and you watch as his throat bobs unsteadily, but just as with Bokuto, he can’t seem to help the smile that creeps across his face. It’s softer than his friend’s, not so blinding but warm nonetheless. Genuine. There’s no animosity there, and it should put you at ease – they don’t seem to blame you, at least. 

It should, but it doesn’t. 

Even now, there’s a little voice in your head urging you to forget your late night cravings, turn tail and run. Nevermind that they’d likely just follow you, much less that you’d look like an absolute fucking idiot, fleeing from your soulmates who so far have done nothing wrong.

It’s not supposed to be this awkward, right? It’s not supposed to be difficult, but even when they’re smiling at you, there’s a tension that digs its claws into you and refuses to relent. Your heart thumps unevenly, like a scared little bunny caught in a trap and the wolves are circling.

If it’s normal, then your parents and every other soulmated pair you’ve ever met certainly kept it to themselves. Maybe it’s the guilt, you think. Maybe you’re just being overdramatic. They’re your soulmates, right? They probably just want to talk, to get to know you, and right now you’re the one being standoffish and rude. 

It occurs to you then that you still haven’t spoken, and they’re both staring at you somewhat expectantly. You really are fucking this up, aren’t you?

“H-hi,” you manage to muster, forcing yourself to smile back. Tiny and timidly, perhaps, but it’s a smile. 

It seems to work, because Bokuto positively beams at you and Akaashi sets down his basket to slide in closer, a pleased little hum escaping his throat. 

Aside from the faint sound of the radio playing in the background and the cashier casually flicking through a magazine up at the register, the store is quiet. It’s just the three of you, except this time there really is no running off and disappearing into the crowd. Which is fine, you need to face them sooner or later, right?

Give them a chance?

Otherwise everything else, all that heartbreak and the lonely nights since will have been all for nothing. So you swallow tightly, take a soft, steadying breath, and press on.

“I, um… I’m sorry about last time. You know with… everything,” you finish lamely, mentally cringing at the sheer awkwardness of it. “I had an exam.”

But again, your soulmates don’t seem to take it personally, the darker haired one (Akaashi, your brain helpfully supplies) nodding slightly. 

“It’s okay. You’re here now.” He has a nice voice, calming and smooth, and though the words seem to carry a different weight you find yourself nodding along with him. You can do this, you can make an effort.

This is fine.

You swallow again, tongue darting out to wet your lips, “I’m Y/N,” you introduce, clutching just a little bit tighter at the handles of your own shopping basket.

You don’t extend a hand, nor try to go in for a hug, but standing there rigidly feels wrong too. They’re strangers, yes, but they’re also not, and you don’t quite know how to act around somebody like that, somebody you’re supposedly fated for but know nothing about. All you know is that the last time they touched you, it was too much. It hurt. And even as you catch sight of the slightly disheartened expression on Bokuto’s face, you’re hesitant to put yourself through it again.

“It’s pretty,” Akaashi compliments, and there’s a faint dusting of pink on his cheeks as he says it. “Suits you.”

Your own probably aren’t much better, with the blood that rushes to your face. You drop your gaze a little, nibbling on your bottom lip, “O-oh, uh… thank you.”

When you glance back up to Bokuto, you find him staring at you again, not with the same hurt expression as before, but something akin to wonder. He seems speechless, in awe of your flustered state, and you wonder how he can bounce that quickly from emotion to emotion without giving himself whiplash. But it seems like your attention is just the thing he needs to pull himself out of it, because he closes his gaping mouth and grins again.

“Y/N,” he repeats, like he’s testing it out, rolling your name over his tongue. “You probably heard, but I’m Bokuto– you can call me Koutarou, though.” 

There’s a beat of silence, and he’s quick to add, “And that’s Akaashi.”

“Keiji,” Akaashi corrects, shooting you another gentle smile. 

First names. It makes sense, you suppose, but the familiarity of it all still doesn’t sit quite right with you. But now that introductions are out of the way, you don't have a clue what you’re supposed to say now - ‘so, soulmates; crazy, huh?’ doesn’t exactly feel appropriate, given the circumstances.

You’re distinctly aware that it’s the middle of the night and you’re at a convenience store and while this might not be the worst time to run into your soulmates again, it’s not far off. 

Maybe that’s not a bad thing, though, because at least it kind of gives you an out. Shifting your weight from one foot to another, you clear your throat, “I hope you guys don’t think I’m being rude or anything, but it is kinda late…” you trail off, hoping they’ll pick up what you’re putting down.

And while Bokuto’s brow furrows, Akaashi at least has the decency to look a little abashed. “Yeah, no, of course. We’re just so… we’re glad we ran into you again.”

 Your cheeks heat again, and to save yourself from having to meet their gazes head on, you quickly spin around, open the freezer door and grab the first pint ice cream that you see. “I just came for this,” you laugh, fighting back a wince at how hollow and fake it all sounds. 

“Here,” Bokuto says, and before you can react he’s snatching it from your grip (thankfully keeping his hand from brushing against yours) and places it atop the basket in Akaashi’s arms. “Our treat.”

He beams at you, and you’re honestly too stunned to reply. You don’t really want him paying for it, but if it gets you out of this awkward encounter any quicker, you’ll swallow down your protests and let it go. 

And so you trail meekly after the two of them as they head to the cashier, and when Akaashi passes you the bag you’re so careful to avoid his touch, a fact he notes with the slightest of frowns, but he doesn’t comment on it. 

“It’s late,” he says instead as the three of you exit into the brisk night air. And then those gunmetal eyes are on you, studying you for a moment. You realise what he’s about to say the moment he opens his mouth again, “Can we walk you home? Or to the bus stop at least?”

Your stomach lurches at the thought of it, of two veritable strangers knowing where you live, but–

He’s not wrong, exactly. It is late, and in hindsight it was probably stupid for you to have come out at this time of the night alone in the first place, whether it was a safe neighbourhood or not. And they’re not strangers, they’re your soulmates.

You have to try. 

So you nod. ‘It’s just down the road,” you murmur, but as the two of them fall into step either side of you, sharing a distinctly satisfied look between themselves, you think that it wouldn’t have mattered how far it was. They would have walked with you anywhere.

Yet their expressions of mild surprise (disappointment, maybe?) when you stop them less than five minutes later in front of your apartment block almost makes you laugh. “This is me.”

Bokuto eyes the building for just a moment before his attention returns to you. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

Lie, that little voice inside your head urges, but you force yourself to ignore it. You have to try. “Uh, not much, I guess…”

Even as you say the words, your hands tighten on your bag, twisting nervously – a sign they either don’t read or wilfully ignore as Bokuto brightens up once again.

“Awesome! Wanna swing by ours to chill for a little bit?”

Like a date, you think as your gaze flickers between the two. Yet Akaashi’s watching you just as intently, those dark eyes far more inscrutable than Bokuto’s, which doesn’t help ease the uncomfortable feeling sitting in the pit of your stomach. There’s really no reason for you to say no, no polite way for you to turn them down. They’re your soulmates, you’re supposed to want this. “Um…”

“Or we can come here, if you want? Or head into the city and do something there, maybe go see a movie or something? Whatever you’d prefer.”

“No!” the words slip from your tongue before you can stop them, the idea of the two of them in your apartment, your home just feels like… too much. “No,” you repeat again, quieter, forcing your features to soften into a hesitant smile. “Your place is good.”

That way you can leave if it all gets to be too much. It’s just a casual hang out. It’ll be fine. 

Both of them seem to relax at your agreement, and you quickly take out your phone to grab Akaashi’s number – sending him a message so he has your number too.

“Perfect,” he says, his voice a purr that sends a ripple of something running down your spine. “I’ll text you the address in the morning.”

You smile at both of them, thanking them again for the ice cream and for walking back with you, even if it was only a few hundred metres. And you think you’re in the clear as you start walking up the steps, trying to balance your keys, your phone and your bags when the sound of your name being called makes you turn around.

Bokuto’s there, a step behind you, and before you can even so much as blink he’s grabbing at your hand, tugging you forward and kissing you.

Just like last time, it’s instantaneous and overwhelming. You feel it all – his giddy excitement, the stirrings of something deeper, less innocent as he cradles your body to his.

And the love. 

Oh god. It’s not mere affection, not some fleeting, superficial thing. It pours over you in unrelenting waves, crushing you under the force of it – you can’t even feel his tongue moving against yours, or the way he sucks on your bottom lip, groaning quietly.

You can’t breathe, can’t think. It’s too much, too much, too strong, too sudden, you can’t BREATHE.

Your trembling hands finds his shoulders, and as your head spins, nausea churning in your gut you don’t waste a second, shoving him away from you with enough force that he actually stumbles back a little.

Though you’ll admit it’s probably more from shock than any strength you actually possess. 

And you don’t dare look to Akaashi as tears fill your eyes, a heaving gasp leaving your lips. Bokuto’s eyes are wide, his mouth agape; he looks confused more than horrified as you stumble back, almost tripping over the last step.

“D-don’t touch me,” you gasp, “please.”

There’s pain in his eyes as your tears well up and spill over and you choke back another sob, but you don’t give him a chance to say anything else. Limbs trembling, you force yourself upright, clutching at the keys in your fist as you skitter towards the door.

You hear one of them, Akaashi you think, calling out your name, but you don’t pause, don’t look back – throwing open the lobby door and slamming it shut behind you. 

And your heart pounds as you climb the steps two at a time, and it’s only once you're in the safety of your own apartment, with the door shut and firmly locked that you allow yourself to breathe. You realise distantly that at some point – probably on the steps outside – you dropped the ice cream they’d bought for you, but you can’t find it within yourself to care. The first time you realise was an accident, they had no way of knowing you were their soulmate, much less how you’d react when they’d touched you. But that–

That wasn’t right.

It wasn’t normal.

Those feelings, that love, you’ve never experienced anything like it, and yet it’s left you feeling filthy; tainted. Scared. It was too much; boundless and abundant, the kind of love that devours and chokes, selfishly strangling everything in its environment to thrive. Overpowering and solely directed at you. How was it supposed to do anything but terrify you. And how can he possibly believe that he loves you like that already?

Soulmates or not, you don’t know him!

This– this whole thing is wrong.

You can’t stop yourself from checking the locks on your apartment another three times before you slip under the covers of your bed, trying to will sleep to find you.

On the nightstand beside you, your phone vibrates, but you refuse to check it, knowing full well that it’s them.

It doesn’t stop.

And with every new notification your blood pressure climbs, and there’s a part of you that’s telling you you have no reason to be reacting like this – whatever happened on those steps, it’s not like they’re going to hurt you.

It was an accident, a misunderstanding.

But they’re still blowing your phone up with notifications and they know where you live and no matter what you tell yourself, you can’t seem to quell the disquiet that eats away at you.

And it’s a cruel thing to do, you know it is, but you don’t know what else to do as you finally give in, swiping your phone up and searching for his contact. The phone rings once, twice, three times and there’s a sinking feeling in your chest when you realise he’s not going to pick up–

“Hello?” Kuguri’s voice is groggy, heavy with sleep and you can almost picture him, sitting up in bed, wiping the sleep from his eyes, running a hand through his messy bed hair. “Fuck, do you know what time it is, Y/N? Why’re you calling me so late?”

There’s a pause, pregnant and heavy, and the only sound that leaves you is the soft hitch in your breath.

“Is everything okay?” he asks, quieter this time, an edge of worry in his tone.

You haven’t spoken to him in weeks, since he’d left without a word and broke your heart, but he’s the only one you want to talk to right now.  

“I-I’m sorry for calling,” you begin, sniffling back your tears. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

—

When you drag yourself out of bed only a few short hours later, your body’s still crying out for a little more sleep, but you can’t afford to indulge.

Like you’d planned, you send the message first thing, ignoring the flood of unread texts above – both from Akaashi and an unknown number you can only assume is Bokuto’s.

I’m sorry about last night, just need some space. 

You have nothing to be sorry for – even if it wasn’t for the frankly unsettling emotions you’d felt, Bokuto’d still kissed you without your permission. But Kuguri said it was better that way – they were less likely to freak out and panic or whatever. You hadn’t questioned it too much, it didn’t really matter what you said so long as they knew you didn’t want them anywhere near you… at least until you figured this whole thing out. And you trusted Kuguri on this.

God knows why he’d even answered your call in the first place, but you’re impossibly glad that he did. Gladder still that he hadn’t hung up on you the moment he’d realised why you were calling.

You scoff down a quick breakfast, before hopping into the shower. The scalding water’s a welcome relief, waking you up more than your coffee had and allowing you the space to think.

Kuguri’s got errands to run this morning, but he’d said you were welcome to stop by his place anytime. He’d insisted on it actually, telling you in no uncertain terms to pack an overnight bag.

‘Look, I’m probably being an overprotective asshole, alright, but I don’t want you there by yourself, so either you come here or I’m coming over there.’

And the thought that you’d need somebody there to protect you, that either one of your soulmates would do anything–

But it’s not so much about them, you think, but you. You’d been a mess when you’d called him, and despite how everything had gone down, Kuguri still cared about you – you can’t just turn those feelings off overnight – is it any wonder that you’d worried him?

Distantly, you register your phone going off a few more times as you busy yourself in washing your hair. You assume it’s Kuguri checking up on you, making sure that you’re alright – you pay it no mind, humming quietly as you reach for your conditioner.

And by the time you slip from your bathroom, wrapped in a big, fluffy towel it’s probably closer to mid-morning than you’d like. You don’t bother blow drying your hair or putting on makeup, instead heading to your room to get dressed and grab some clothes to take to Kuguri’s.

Except there’s a knocking at the door that stops you in your tracks.

You hadn’t heard the buzzer for the building’s main door go off, which meant that it was probably just your landlord stopping by, or one of your neighbours. You know the little girl who lives in the apartment next to yours likes to bake with her dad and sometimes drops off freshly made cookies and treats, so you hastily throw on enough clothes to pass as decent. 

“Coming,” you sing out, racing across the room to reach the door. 

Except when you throw it open, it’s not one of your neighbours standing out in your hallway, nor is it your elderly landlord. 

Akaashi and Bokuto crowd the empty space; Bokuto grinning widely, Akaashi’s dark eyes fixed on yours. 

“You weren’t answering your phone,” he murmurs, a faint frown tugging at his features as studies your face. “We were worried about you.”

And there’s so many things wrong with the fact that they’re here; least of all being how the hell they got into the building to begin with, but you can’t afford to think of any of that. You simply need to get them out of here without causing a fuss. Now.

They’re still your soulmates, you remind yourself as your heart rate picks up. They won’t do anything to hurt you. 

“I-I told you I needed space, please go,” you mutter, clutching so tightly at the edge of the door that your knuckles turn white. “Please,” you beg again when neither of them make a move to leave.

“I told you, ‘Kaashi,” Bokuto says, his smile slipping in favour of a wounded pout, “She’s afraid of us. Her soulmates.”

And you don’t know what compels you to shake your head instead of just slamming the door in their faces, “N-no, I just–”

“She’s just skittish,” Akaashi interrupts, cutting you off mid-sentence. “Overwhelmed – this is all new to her. It’s okay, princess,” he says, addressing you this time with a teasing little smirk, “We’ll be gentle, okay? We’re going to take good care of you.”

It’s the final blow to your tentative politeness. As panic sinks its teeth into you, you skitter backwards, scrambling to shut the front door before they can get in–

Bokuto’s faster. They both are.

Stronger, too. 

[thefanficmonster]

Corpse’s Girl

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Bullying, Swearing, Derogatory Terms

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Summary: Y/N’s life as a regular college student is forever stripped away from her when her relationship with the famous YouTuber Corpse Husband is accidentally revealed during an online class of hers. How will she cope with the sudden spotlight and the unwanted attention, some of which crosses into bullying?

Requested by my amazing Tumblr friend @itsminniekat 🥰 She’s been reading and liking my works since day one and I honestly couldn’t be more grateful. If you’re reading this, all I can say is thank you, darling. Thank you so much for sticking by my blog even when I posted some crappy fics. I’ll make sure this ain’t one of them. Love you with all my heart. ❤❤❤

P.S. - I named the mean character with my name so I hope no one who reads this has the same name. Wouldn’t want any of you feeling like the villain 😘

Who knew online class would be even more boring than being physically present for a lecture? Seriously, I find myself doing the weirdest of crap to entertain myself - like trying to balance a pen on the tip of my nose for example. I jot down some notes every now and then but that’s basically it. My mind can not fathom the concept on concentrating on whatever my professors are going on and on about. Well, full disclosure, I couldn’t concentrate even if I wanted to, especially with my boyfriend streaming in the other room.

He’s currently playing Among Us with his usual gaming squad. Listening to his input during the discussions, I can always tell when he’s lying. I honestly find it hilarious that his friends can’t pick up when he’s bullshitting them. I sometimes wonder if he has brainwashed them. And that’s one of the main reasons we don’t play Among Us together - he can’t lie to me. Not only do I pick up on his con with ease, but he always says he feels bad when he lies to me which is just the sweetest thing. Also, I refuse to play cause I’m shy. His friends are all well-known content creators and I’m a literal nobody. Every now and then I find myself wondering why Corpse is even with me. He’s always quick to push those thoughts out of my head and make sure they don’t return on a long notice, but they do interrupt my peace from time to time.

“Y/N, do you know?“ The sound of my professor saying my name takes me out of my eavesdropping of Corpse’s stream.

I panic, but quickly improvise, “Sorry, my internet is slow, you cut out for a second. What was the question?” I feel my face heating up, making me glad we are allowed to keep our cameras off.

“Question number 15 on page 82 in your textbook. Do you know the answer to it?“ My professor repeats himself, his tone annoyed.

I look down at the page that’s already opened in front of me. I let out a sigh of relief, seeing that the question is rather easy.

“Yeah, um, it’s...“ Suddenly, Corpse’s laugh reaches my room loud and clear. There’s no doubt my mic picked up the noise, especially since the door to my room is open.

The color drains from my face as I hurry to say the answer and remute myself. My eyes are wide as I stare at my screen, hoping no one will acknowledge that very recognizable laugh.

“OMG Y/N, are you watching a Corpse Husband stream in class?” One of the bitches in my class, Vy, speaks up, “Not a very goody-two-shoe move on your part, dear.” 

I purposely unmute my mic to mumble a quick ‘Shut up, bitch’ that somehow manages to fly under my professor’s radar and the class continues. It’s the first time something like this has happened and I’m not sure if I handled it properly or not.

The class ends shortly after, allowing me a sigh of relief as I disconnect from the meeting. 

“Fucking finally.“ I mumble to myself, leaning back in my desk chair. Tilting my head backwards, I see Corpse standing in the doorframe. I grin, not only because his presence itself makes me ten times happier, but also because he’s upside down from my viewpoint. “Well, hello there! How long have you been spying on me?“

He struts over to me, leaning his face over mine, “Long enough.” His lips linger above mine without any actual contact before he pulls away, allowing me to sit up straight and proper in the chair. “You still have classes?”

I nod my head while disappointedly rolling my eyes, “Yeah. One more. Shouldn’t be too bad since it’s English Lit. You’re done streaming?”

“Yeah, I just have some other things to do. I haven’t done a narration video in a while, I miss making that type of content.“ He plops down on my bed, running a hand through his messy black curls.

“Weren’t you recording some lines a few days ago?“ I frown as I try to recall if what I’m referring to actually happened or my brain is too fried to decipher reality from my bootleg perception of it. Online class, man - messes with your head like sleeping pills - makes you disoriented and exhausted with barely doing anything other than trying to wrap your brain around a lecture or two.

He hums affirmatively, “It’s not a finished project and I don’t even know if I’ll use those or rerecord them. I’ll have to listen to them again before I make a final decision.“

I tilt his chin upwards with my pointer finger, a gesture he has told me he finds very endearing, “I’m sure they’re great and you just refuse to be satisfied. Everything you do is great.“

He smiles a small, shy smile, his fingers gently wrapping around my wrist, holding my hand in place, “You’re biased. You like me too much to tell me when I do some bullshit.”

I scoff, “You know that isn’t true. If someone’s gonna kick your butt in formation, it’s gonna be me.“ I give him a quick kiss on the forehead before pulling away from him, “Go on, now. I have a class to attend. You distract me enough while you’re in the other room, I can only imagine how hard it’d be for me to focus if you were right by my side.“

He smirks, bowing a little as he makes his way out of the room, “You flatter me.”

I playfully roll my eyes, getting my headset back on as I tap the last class for the day. We have an assignment due to the start of the class which we’ll have to present if the professor approved of it. We basically had to write a psychoanalysis of a character from any book of our choice. I chose Heathcliff from ‘Wuthering Heights’ which is one of my favorite books of all time. I’m proud of what I wrote and the way I wrote it, but I’ve always barely scraped by with a B in this class, a B+ if I’m lucky, so I’ve never gotten any major credit, even when I put my 110% in the assignments and projects.

Well, color me surprised when the professor calls on me first to read my work, complimenting it on its detailed and specific nature. I get my printed assignment out in front of me and unmute myself.

“I wrote a psychoanalysis on for Heathcliff, a character from Emily Bronte’s novel ‘Wuthering Heights’.“ Just after I say this line, Corpse’s voice booms throughout the whole apartment, no doubt being picked up by my mic. It doesn’t sound like he’s actually talking, he can’t be that loud. I put two and two together when I recognize the lines he’s saying - the ones he recorded a few days ago. They’re coming from his computer speakers. He probably didn’t check the volume before playing back the recording.

I mute myself as quickly as possible, but it’s too late. The voice dies down as Corpse probably turned down the speakers.

My professor, who is already done with this lecture, just annoyedly remarks, her words overdosed with sarcasm: “Read your assignment and you can go back to whatever it is you are watching.”

“Wow, Y/N! Again?! Are you one of those crazy obsessed fans or something? Is Corpse Husband all you watch?“ This bitch is really poking a stick at me, huh? The only crazy obsessed fan here is her, and my friends but they are allowed. Little do all of them know, I am obsessed but not simply over a YouTuber. I’m obsessed with my boyfriend who just happens to be a YouTuber.

“No commentary, please.“ The professor scolds her, “Go on, Y/N.“

I finish reading without any other disturbances. The professor compliments my essay again when I’m done, the small incident at the beginning forgotten already. Well, not by everyone. One of my friends shot me a quick text to joke about it which only earned an eye roll from me.

My friends don’t know that I’m dating Corpse either. As I said, they are simping HARD over him while I act the most indifferent on the subject. Whenever they ask my opinion on him I either say ‘he’s OK’ or just avoid answering completely. I know saying anything more enthusiastic than that would turn into a snowball rolling down a snowy hill - I’d just keep babbling about how nice, amazing, wonderful and a gift to this world Corpse is, inevitably revealing our relationship in the process.

I’m afraid of revealing my relationship with Corpse in front of these people. They are all run on jealousy and selfishness and I can only imagine how mean they’d be about it. I’m already not too fond of them, it would only be worse if any of my personal life was exposed.

When the class finally ends I remove my headset, putting my forehead down on the desk, barely missing the keyboard. I groan in frustration and anger at myself for not fighting back. I could’ve and should’ve said something - ANYTHING. But what? That’s a question I can’t find the answer to.

“Hey...“ Corpse’s hesitant voice comes from behind me, “You ok?“

I straighten my posture, turning to him with a smile. “Yeah, but these people suck.”

I get up from my chair as he approaches me, basically falling in his arms. The comfort I feel radiating off of him makes me relax, forget the past hour or so. He has always had this effect on me. Like my own personal kryptonite to my anger and anxiety.

“Did I get you in any trouble because of that?“ His voice shows clear concern and guilt. 

I wrap my arms around him tighter, burying my head in his chest. “No, don’t worry about it.“ 

And I really wasn’t in trouble. Not until now that the video is officially posted....

I can call these people dumb all I want but they sure put two and two together awfully fast. They recognized the lines they heard during class as the same ones from his new video that came out almost a week after the incident, aka two days ago. It’s safe to say I haven’t touched my phone or computer since.

“This is all my fault.“

Of all the horrible things I suspected would happen this has to be the worst - Corpse is blaming himself for it. I am prepared to take all the shit these people have to throw at me but seeing Corpse beating himself up over this is killing me. No amount of convincing can change his mind. Nothing I say helps.

“Please, stop doing this to yourself. Non of this is your fault, Corpse.“ I’ve repeated this sentence more than a thousand time these past forty eight hours, each time saying it more and more desperately.

“All of it is my fault, Y/N. I’m so sorry. I hate myself so much.“ Has been his reply single time.

 I can’t watch him be so mean to himself. It’s the most conflicting thing when the person you love most is torturing themselves. It’s easy if it’s someone else doing it, you just kick their ass. But what are you supposed to do when the person you want to protect is the same one you need to protect them from.

Corpse has shut himself away in his recording room these past few hours and though he clearly needs to be alone, he still left the door open just a crack cause he knows I’ll be worried sick otherwise.

While I’m alone in the living room, I’ve finally managed to brace myself and build enough courage to power up my laptop. Last time it was on it was going mad with notifications.

“It’s digital. Only digital. It can’t hurt you too badly if it can’t touch you, right?“ I mumble to myself, already frustrated despite not having yet seen all the horrors that await me.

And horrors there were. Everywhere. Twitter. Instagram. Facebook.

My grades. Some pictures of me no one has ever seen. My school files. People from my class tweeting Corpse to ‘expose’ me for the ‘slut’ or ‘bitch’ I really am. Corpse hasn’t touched social media either and I plan on making sure it stays that way. God only knows how much worse he’ll get if he sees these claims.

And then, like a notification sent straight from hell, an email from my professor.

Practical lectures on Friday. Be here at 9 AM. Don’t forget your mask and gloves.

Good thing I opened my laptop when I did. Friday is tomorrow and I need to prepare for this day. Not only do I need to hit the books but I need to toughen up a bit. I can’t go there looking like I feel - like a mess.

Alright, time to put the brave face on. No more wallowing in it, at least not until tomorrow afternoon.

I make a study plan and hop in the shower. I feel the need to apologize to my hair for washing it so roughly, basically yanking at my strands from frustration that has been suppressed for too long.

I get our of the boiling hot shower, red as a lobster, and change into some clean comfortable clothes and put my ass in study mode. I remove all the scary expectations of the morning to come from my mind and let the information the textbooks has to offer seep into my brain.

                                                            *  *  *

I’m about to head out and, despite my put-together composure, I am a wreck inside. I actually put effort into my appearance, I mean - I even styled my hair. A pretty façade to hide a ruin.

I saw my friends’ texts last night, all three of them ending their friendship with me because they felt betrayed. I haven’t yet decided how to feel about that. Doesn’t matter at the moment, there are more important matters at hand, aka surviving the next three hours.

My college is within ten minutes walking distance from our apartment. That ten minute walk has never been so stressful, not even during exam season. The air feels a little harder to breathe, the path a little shorter to walk. And my moment of reckoning a little too close.

I feel eyes on me the second I start walking through the park of our campus. Sure, I could just be paranoid, but the feeling is too real to be just my imagination in overdrive. I’m glad I have my hair down and a mask on so the redness of my cheeks and neck isn’t on display. That’s a sign of weakness right now.

We have two an hour and a half long classes between which we have a snack break that’s half an hour. I usually enjoy that period but I’m dreading it now. These assholes can only be so mean in the presence of a professor, but during lunch break they can increase that tenfold. 

“Well if it isn’t Corpse’s girl.“ I hear that a lot. The whispers are not so much whispers as intentionally loud enough for me to hear remarks. I’m not bothered by them, it’s the least they can do. If I let such a simple thing get to me, I’d be crumbling by the end of first period.

I hear some shuffling behind me and out of the corner of my eye I see, yeah you guessed it, THAT bitch. She’s standing as close to me as she can without violating Covid regulations. A mask is covering her face but the menacing look in her eyes tells me all I need to know about the interaction that’s about to go down.

“I’d ask how much he pays you for the hour.....“ her long nails tap the wooden desk, “but that’d be rude. I bet it’s tough being a maid. Do you just clean or are you a multipurpose lap dog? No offense, I’m genuinely curious.“

“Vy, would you be so kind as to give Y/N some room to breathe?“ The professor asks as he nonchalantly walks in.

Vy rolls her eyes, batting her eyelashes at me, “Talk to you later, sweetheart.” With a fake friendly wave she’s out of my hair, at least for now.

Remember what I said about these people not being as dumb as I pegged them to be? Yeah, scratch that. These fuckers actually tried getting away with taking pictures of me with flash in broad daylight. Like, HELLO! I have two functioning eyes and a brain, I’m onto you. Sadly, me having figured out their childish but hurtful methods of humiliating me doesn’t change much. They still posted the pics they took, using the most derogatory terms they could find in the English language, always making sure to tag Corpse and me both.

Needless to say, these were the longest three hours of my life.

                                                              *  *  *

Shutting the door to our apartment behind me causes relief of the highest levels. I feel like I’ve locked out all the bad shit I have had to deal with these past twenty four hours. 

I’m tired. I’m fucking exhausted. I feel like a discarded piece of paper. 

And it all starts crumbling. A wall is bound to start slowly falling apart after being hit over and over again, each time feeling the blows with a stronger intensity. 

I slide down the door sitting down on the floor and slowly taking my shoes off. I put my bag beside me and wrap my arms around my knees, hiding my head in the space between them and my chest.

One tear slides down my cheek.

Another follows.

And another, this time accompanied by a choked sob.

A pair of arms wraps around the ball that my body has been shaped into. One of his hands comes up to stroke my hair gently, feeding me the comfort I have been longing for since I left the apartment this morning.

“I saw it. All of it. All the shit they talk about you. All the names they call you. And I’ve never wanted to beat so many people up simultaneously.“ His words make me raise my head from its low position, giving him a knowing look. “I wish I could. I would, but that would land me in jail. Which doesn’t even sound so bad cause I don’t like going out. Only problem is you wouldn’t be with me. I wouldn’t want you to be there with me, don’t get me wrong, I’d never want you to end up in jail. I-...” I cut him off by pressing my lips to his. A quick kiss that says so much but mainly shows the immeasurable gratitude for his support.

Seeing those awful tweets and comments had the complete opposite effect on him. He no longer blames himself but the people who actually deserve the blame - all those jerks from my college.

I pull away, giving him a small smile. “I would never let you go to jail.” 

He smiles back at me, overjoyed that my mood is slowly being lifted, “Come on, I have a nice crowd that would like to meet you.”

I know exactly what he means. Felix, Sean, Rae, Dave, Sykkuno and the rest of his friends. The people I’ve been so shy and afraid to meet since day one. Being shy doesn’t really make sense now, seeing as how they know I exist and that I’m a part of Corpse’s life. 

What do I have to lose?

“Guys, this is my girlfriend, Y/N.“ Corpse’s black avatar runs around my cyan one in the Among Us lobby.

I can’t help but giggle when I unmute my mic, “Hi everyone! It’s so nice to finally meet you.“ They each introduce themselves, expressing how happy they are to be meeting me too.

It’s the first time in what feels like a while that I’m truly having fun. These people are wonderful, each so unique and lovely. They never brought up the scandal nor acted as though they knew about it. I know they did and I am beyond grateful that they never mentioned it or treated me any differently because of it. Also, Corpse was streaming the whole time. I had my phone on his stream, my eyes nervously scanning the chat every now and then. I couldn’t believe it. Corpse’s real fans were just as wonderful as his friends - they were nothing but supportive and happy to have met me.

Now, I can either choose to believe these people were being so nice to me out of sympathy or I can believe they really like me and appreciate me for who I am and not for what happened to me. 

I choose to believe the latter.

And while I’m still getting accustomed to this whole new spotlight, I know I’ll be able to handle it as long as I’m holding Corpse’s hand in the process. All I need is to have him beside me and I’m prepared to tackle anything.

“They love you.“ Corpse tells me once the stream is done and we’ve hopped out of the Discord call, “But I love you more.“

His arms wrap around my waist while mine instinctively find their way around his neck, “I love them, too. But they’re at the number 2 spot.”

He smirks at me, “I wonder who’s at number 1.”

I push up on my toes, putting my lips an inch away from his, “Hmm, I wonder...”

He doesn’t let me finish, silencing my teasing with a sweet, loving kiss.

@susceptible-but-siriusexual  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @hacker-ghost  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze  @divine-artemis  @waterlilypat

[ptergwen]

love is more than a word

w/c: a very ouch 3.6k

warnings: so so so much angst and an unhealthy (ish) relationship

summary: after nearly four years together, peter has stopped trying

a/n: listen y’all i don’t know what came over me when i made this but i think it’s the saddest thing i’ve ever written? uh try to enjoy tho

-

you never thought this would happen, but you’re getting tired of peter. it isn’t your fault. that cliche it’s not you, it’s me line doesn’t apply here.

at first, you actually did find yourself believing the it’s me part. you’d came to the conclusion that you expect too much from peter. he goes to class, he works, patrols, sometimes parties, takes you out when he can. he’s got a lot going on for a full time college student, which is a busy life to lead on its own.

it’s why you don’t complain when he wants to spend the night in and order a pizza instead of cooking together like you’ve been wanting to try. it’s why every time your friends ask you two to hang, you have to reluctantly explain that peter is passed out at eight o’clock on a saturday.

there’s a lazy “wanna make out?” some nights, if peter isn’t yawning when he steps through the front door. even that has lost its enjoyment. kissing peter doesn’t give you the rush it used to, the taste of his strawberry chapstick not flooding your senses and intoxicating you. it’s become predictable. comfortable. boring.

peter is boring.

you’ve slipped into unspoken routine. say your hello’s, work on separate assignments in different rooms. peter eventually yells something like “babe, you hungry yet?” across the apartment, his passive way of asking you to make dinner. you usually order takeout because why make an effort if he doesn’t?

you might watch one of the ten movies peter has liked since before the start of your relationship. he’ll usually fall asleep during it. no surprise there. his overpacked schedule exhausts him, which you’ve talked to him about spreading himself too thin. peter is too nice and can’t say no, so this is where it leaves him.

the main reason you’ve stayed with him is that he can’t take care of himself. he’s clueless about paying the bills, sorting his laundry, simply remembering to drink water. peter wouldn’t be able to go a week without you. he even says it himself.

“crap, i totally forgot about these,” when you picked up his special ordered textbooks from your school library. “can food go in the garbage disposal?” a rare time you didn’t wash the dishes. “thank you, y/n/n. you’re literally a lifesaver,” whenever you do a task for him that someone in their 20s shouldn’t need assistance with.

you didn’t used to mind much. he watches over the city every night. you felt you should return the favor. spider-man could use some help, too. after the almost four years you’ve been together, peter has become completely dependent on you. it only got worse when you moved in together your junior year. you’re concerned how he’ll manage later in his adult life.

you’d think he’d be a little more passionate about your relationship considering how much he needs you. you know peter still loves you, of course he does. that’s not what the problem is. he’s become content with the mutual feeling, so he doesn’t try anymore. he expects the spark to keep itself lit.

no more random joke of the day texts that he used to send you. he stopped surprising you with your coffee order in the morning, the one that he memorized the first time you two went to a starbucks. what you initially found most endearing about peter was that he remembered every little thing you told him.

he put whatever energy he had into showing you that he listened. he’d do it all with rosy cheeks and that toothy smile of his. it seems now like he’s under the impression that being in a long term relationship means none of that matters anymore. there’s no need to impress you, keep you guessing, make you feel special.

tonight is your breaking point. as you go over all of this in your head while peter lays peacefully next to you, you can’t take it. you’ve been making so many excuses for him. you lie to yourself. you’re desperate to believe this is okay and normal and you can work this out, and you can love whatever version of him this is.

but, you can’t. you can’t do it. you need to tell him now because if you sleep on this, you’ll end up feeling bad and be stuck under these suffocating blankets forever.

“peter?” you whisper his name, your back turned to him in bed. you haven’t cuddled each other to sleep in a while. his arms don’t make you feel held now, they make you feel trapped. you’ve been forcing yourself to ignore his look of hurt when you reject his open embrace.

“peter?” you speak louder after a moment of silence, except for his occasional snores. a loud one escapes him before they stop altogether. his eyes stay shut as he mumbles out a, “uh... huh?” your heart is thudding through your entire body. you take a breath in from your nose. “i wanna break up.”

the breath you let out next is one of relief, those three words that have been scratching your throat for months finally out. peter slowly turns his head over his shoulder. he blinks rapidly at your motionless figure. you’re still not facing him.

“what?” is all he says. his voice is surprisingly steady, the confession not yet registering with his sleepy mind. his eyes are burning into you. “i wanna break up,” you repeat and squish your face further into your pillow. peter suddenly sits up, flicking on the lamp on his side. he tries to sling an arm around you. you move further away until you’re at the edge of the bed.

“i’m serious, peter. everything we had, it’s gone.” your words cut through him harder than literal knives he’s been stabbed with. “i- i don’t understand. where is this coming from?” he rakes a hand through his mess of curls. you turn onto your back, looking up at peter. his eyes are fixed on your lower half.

he’ll most definitely cry if he meets your eyes. he really doesn’t want to cry, not ever again when you won’t be here to make him feel better.

“it’s been coming,” you almost scoff at him as you prop yourself up against your pillows. peter’s teeth tug at his lower lip. “all we do is this.” you gesture to your bed, slapping your hand down at your side. “i get tired,” he speaks quietly, refusing to look at you. “i know you do, peter. i know, but you’d be a lot happier if you ever listened to me.”

your statement comes off as condescending to him. he works up the courage to look you in the face. “are you kidding? all you do is boss me around, and i take it. i’ve never once complained.” anger is coursing through his veins and voice. at the situation, that he’s about to lose the one stable part of his life. you’re getting pissed, too.

“that’s because you can’t do anything yourself!” you throw the blankets off you and swing your legs over the bed in one motion. peter hops out of bed entirely. “my whole life, i’ve been on my own half the time,” he spits as he comes over to stand in front of you. “sorry for taking you up on your offers to help.”

your peter would never spew that shit out. he wouldn’t guilt you for something he’s in the wrong about. this peter takes you for granted. he has no clue how fucked he’d be without you.

the first time you spoke to peter was on your way to history 227. you’d recognized him from your class, much more interested in the pretty boy taking notes with his tongue stuck out than whatever war your professor would lecture about.

he was carrying some books, a pencil case that didn’t fully zip, and a five subject notebook. you watched him do his balancing act through the halls until his legs started to wobble. a knowing smile on your face, you tapped his shoulder. it was a gentle one so you didn’t scare him and make all his things fall over.

“can i carry something for you?” you laughed out and pushed one of your backpack straps up on your shoulder. peter only stared at you, his doe eyes prompting you to reach for his pencil case. “uh, no, it’s fine. i got it. see?” he proved that to you by hiking everything up in his arms. he gave you a smile of his own.

“are you sure? we’re going to the same place,” you’d checked again and pointed at his impressive pile. “i’m not gonna steal your sharpies.” “really, i’m fine,” peter insisted with a heart clenching chuckle. “you can have one, if you want,” he offered and attempted to unzip his case, one handed. you put your hand over his to stop him.

“wait until we get to class,” you let go of him, leaving the tips of peter’s ears a shade of pink you’d later fall in love with. “i’ll sit with you.”

peter was once determined to do things on his own, to be self-sufficient. it used to be something he was proud of. now, he’s completely incapable of holding his independence.

“we’re done, peter.” your tone is short, you getting to your feet. “you’d probably forget how to fucking breathe without me, but call it bossing around, i guess,” you laugh bitterly and go over to your drawers. peter’s face falls as he grabs your wrist, stopping you when you pass by him. “where are you going?”

no answer. you pull yourself out of his grasp with your lips pressed into a stern line. peter follows you step by step over to the dresser. “wait, wait. don’t leave, baby. please,” he begs you, getting onto his knees beside you. you’re pulling random clothes out as quick as you can. a science t-shirt peter outgrew is in your hands.

peter used to give you all his old clothes. the signature smell of his cologne lingered no matter how many times you washed them. they kept you calm on nights he was out late patrolling or away on missions. peter would sport a smirk whenever you wore them out in public, pulling you closer to him and complimenting the look.

it started when he was packing for his first mission since you two had begun living together. he’d realized he became too buff to fit in some shirts. remembering how many times you’d giggle at their funny sayings, peter gave them to you. you threw one on and thanked him with a peck on the cheek. it became your tradition.

peter would set off for a new continent, but a piece of him would stay home with you.

the stretched out hoodies and ripped sweatpants just sit in your drawer now. another meaningful thing discontinued. whatever he doesn’t want goes to may for donations now. the memory of what they used to mean to you makes a fit of rage burst through you.

you slam down his ‘find x’ shirt in the space between his knees and yours. you’re on a mission of your own this time. you aren’t going anywhere until you get rid of all the stuff that went from him to you.

“y/n, don’t do this. i- i love you. i love you.” peter chokes out, tears filling his eyes. his vision is clouded while you toss more clothes to your side. “i love you, y/n/n,” he whimpers again, and this time you briskly push the drawer shut. the whole dresser shakes. this is the most emotion either of you have shown in the past few months of your relationship. it’s a little too late.

“love is more than a word, peter. you have to back it up with actions.” you’re doing your best not to cry. the memories of how loved peter made you feel play in your mind. he briefly wipes under his eyes and shakes his head. he’s so oblivious. “i thought i- i did.” “exactly, you did. you gave up at some point.” your voice gets weaker as a tear drips down your chin.

you didn’t plan on breaking down when you imagined this moment. part of you wishes you could give him another chance. most of you knows it wouldn’t do any good for you or peter. you’re not right for each other anymore. he outgrew some sweatshirts, you outgrew him.

that takes you all the way back to it’s not you, it’s me. it’s really both of you.

for the last time, you pull peter in for a hug. the two of you need this. he loops his arms around your back, keeping them loose around you as he tucks his face into the side of your neck. you’re a mix of tears and sharp breaths with your chin on his shoulder. you bring a hand up to the back of his head, grabbing a fistful of curls.

he sobs right into your ear, effectively destroying whatever composure you had left.

even though you’re not in love with peter, you haven’t stopped loving him. somewhere inside of him is the goofy boy who asked you out on a post-it during class. the kindhearted man who gave so much of himself to the world and saved enough for you. the one whose fingertips left goosebumps on your skin with every touch.

seeing him like this, having caused it feels like a dull pain rippling in every part of your body. you’ve been there to soothe him during countless breakdowns over the years. you managed to stay strong for all of them. this is the only exception. he lost people, felt down about life, made mistakes. you were there to pick up each piece and put them back together.

the one mistake peter made that you can’t fix is not loving you right. you became his rock, his anchor whenever he let grief and sadness rule over him. you’d get him back to himself. he could’ve at least bought you flowers once in a while, or done anything that showed his gratitude. every iteration of awful put together isn’t enough to describe how he feels.

“i’m so- i’m so fucking sorry, baby. i don’t deserve you. i never have,” peter murmurs as he cries, wetting your skin that his face is still pressed into. your fingers pull roughly at his hair. hot tears overflow from your own eyes. “i should’ve done more.” his voice cracks on the last word. “that’s all i wanted to hear, pete,” you breathe out and pull away from him.

“does that mean you’ll stay?” he croaks, arms still wound around your body. his eyes are hopeful when they lock with yours. a frown pulls at your lips. “only for tonight. i should... one of us should sleep on the couch.” “oh,” his voice is gravelly, so he clears his throat. “i’ll do it.” you’re not going to fight him on it for once.

peter removes his arms from your waist, you sitting back down on your thighs. you give him a blink and you’ll miss it smile because you can’t keep one for long. it’s to let him know you’re not mad. you were at the start of this conversation, then he took accountability. you also came to terms with the fact that the downfall of your relationship was a joined effort.

there are more factors than peter not giving you what he should have. time, different goals, new outlooks on life. you can’t hate only him because a whole bunch of things lead to this.

instead of a smile, since he physically can’t put one on his splotchy face, peter brushes the pad of his thumb over the corner of your lips. he gets up to leave the room, but you stop him with a “wait!” he freezes in front of you. you get out a hoodie from his pile of old clothes and stand up. “it’s cold.” you put it in his hands, earning a grin that he didn’t think was possible.

“thanks, y/n,” peter sighs and holds the hoodie against his chest. “goodnight. um,” this is the part where he’d usually say i love you. “sleep well, okay?” the replacement stings for both of you. you’ll have to learn to fall asleep without hearing that phrase first. as much as you didn’t feel it anymore, you’d become used to it. “you too, peter. night,” you say softly.

you head back to your bed while peter walks out the door. he glances at you once, and you’re already settling under the covers. he shuts the door behind him before finding his way to the couch.

your bed has always seemed too small. it’s gigantic without peter. you aren’t sure how you feel about that yet.

peter lays across the couch, the hood that doesn’t quite fit him pulled over his head. he’s only wearing it because you gave it to him. you doing that not even five minutes ago was how you backed up your love with actions. it’s so easy. silent tears spill from his eyes at the realization.

he wishes on every star that he could’ve figured out he wasn’t doing enough sooner. you’d be together right now, had he just caught on. there was a time he prided himself on knowing you fully and completely. how to turn you into the shy one with certain combinations of words, what your schedule was each week so he could plan his free time around it.

your relationship became something he thought would last unconditionally. if only he was able pinpoint the exact moment he went wrong.

you’re right in the other room. he can go in there and bawl, plead for you to take him back. how could he do that and claim to love you, though? you’ve made it clear you‘re over him.

the best way for peter to show you he loves you is by letting you live your life, without him in it.

-

you don’t see peter again for weeks. he moved back in with may, and you got to keep the apartment. you were the one who took all the care of it, anyway.

your semester ended at the perfect time because peter isn’t in any of your new classes. the city is too big to bump into each other. you’re free from the hold he had on you, which would’ve been four years long since yesterday. you’ve been good at picking up his broken pieces for too long, and now it’s time to pick up your own.

for all the hangouts you missed on his behalf, you made up for it. you called mj the day after your breakup and met for lunch. she never explicitly said it, but she took your side. peter had a feeling because when he had the same idea as you, to lean on his friends for support, she never reached out.

betty is indifferent, ned stays cordial with you. his real loyalty is to peter. you can’t blame him.

peter hasn’t been doing well since you broke up. he’s not eating enough, he can’t focus on work of any kind. you were right when you said he would forget how to breathe without you. he often wonders how you’ve been.

he finds out today.

you’re walking around campus, heading in the direction peter just came from. he has a class in the building your last one was. the two of you are on the same sidewalk, opposite sides. he almost doesn’t recognize you.

mj is on one side of you, a guy he’s never seen before with an arm around your shoulders. you’re all laughing about whatever dumb thing your professor said during the lecture. your hair, which is done in a new style, flows behind you in the spring breeze. a smile takes place on your glossy lips. the smile is directed towards that guy. your new boyfriend, peter assumes.

you look amazing, and not only physically. you seem happy with your small group of people. peter hadn’t been able to give you that happiness in years, so it’s nice to see you got it back somehow.

he must have stared too long because you notice him. you fall behind mj and your potential boyfriend, both of them wrapped up in discussing your next project. peter stops walking. you do the same. he’s not sure if he upset you, or what’s going on. his instincts tell him to apologize. his mouth stays closed.

that infectious smile of yours appears once again. you thought about peter yesterday, it being your anniversary and all. you’d only let yourself remember the good things. they outweighed the bad ones when you look back on everything.

“aye, grandma! get over here!” mj calls to you, your boyfriend nudging her side. “take your time, y/n/n. i’m not in a rush to write seven long ass pages.” you laugh to yourself at the two of them. peter fiddles with the zipper on his jacket. it’s from the drawer of things you used to wear. “one sec!” you yell back.

“hey,” you turn to face peter, who’s giving you a tight lipped smile. “how’ve you been?” “i’m okay. just, you know,” he shrugs and clasps his hands behind his back. there’s a short silence before peter says, “you seem good. really good.” he smiles for real this time. “yeah, i am. i hope you are, too,” you tell him and genuinely mean it.

you’d like to catch up soon, but it’s not right yet. you both need more time. “i’ll see you around?” you’re already starting to walk, backwards so you can see peter. “uh, sure. bye,” he gives you a quick wave and continues on his way.

you get back to mj and your boyfriend, his arm returning to your shoulders. they waited for you by the stoplight. “what’d ya get up to over there?” he teases, mj suspiciously watching your face for any tells. you carefully think through your answer with a grin. “love.”

[cinnamonest]

Speaking of though. I've brought this up before but boys getting all hurty and bitter because darling has been talking positively about other people is so cute yet so obnoxious because I swear none of these bastards can healthily process and express their feelings like. I have thoughts on a few

Kaeya is soooo passive aggressive. Just mumbling things under his breath. He gets super petulant about it even, it's kinda uncharacteristic of him really, but when he gets bitter enough he can be really childish about expressing it. Stays just close enough for you to see him but pulls super petty shit like standing up and walking out of a room as soon as you come in. It's super quiet and that's how you know something's up since he normally can't shut up. Like he wants you to bring it up, he's not gonna initiate the conversation, because he wants the reassurance that you care about him being upset and if he doesn't get that he gets progressively more subtly passive aggressive until you bring it up and then finally the dam breaks and puts on the arrogant narcissist demeanor, lectures you about how your behaviors and actions recently have been inconsiderate and selfish and he's so gracious to put up with it. Turns everything back into being your fault. Folds his arms and kinda shifts his weight onto one foot, irritated stance, talks over you. Can be placated and somewhat soothed with enthusiastically initiating apology sex, but he stays mad a while, rolls over away from you in hopes you'll go back to apologizing again. He just really likes hearing you apologize. He's a sensitive, hurty boi but too insecure to be honest with you, and needs the ego boost.

Childe's similar but more direct and less gaslight-y. Also passive aggressive and quiet but less in a pouty way and more in a smiley way. Smiles really big all the time, very obviously forced. He's a bit talkative. "So how was your day?" But it's immediately obvious he's pissed off just from his tone, a fake sweetness that clearly says you need to apologize for something. Also can be placated with sex. But thankfully he's more likely to actually stop being mad afterwards. If it was genuinely anger, he's more likely to just get over it and return to his normal self, but if the pouting was triggered by having his feelings hurt he's more likely to get a bit vulnerable/open with you and grumble a confession that you more or less hurt his feelings, resting his face against your shoulders or chest, in hopes you'll reassure him.

Xiao. Supreme pouty. You take a bit longer to realize something's wrong because he's normally quiet anyway, but the biggest indicator is the space between you. He's normally trying to get awkwardly touchy, even though flustered about it, he just loves touch too much, likes to just be in your presence and watch you, but now he's in another room. Putting space between you. Sitting cross legged on the floor in a corner, arms crossed, just very very very ">:(" and turns his head the other way when you try to look at him. Embodies "no talk me I angy." Slow to admit he's mad even if you bring it up, keeps saying "nothing" and going quiet again. He might admit to being mad but just not tell you why. In the end he can hold the anger for a few days even before it just settles into being hurt and he comes crawling back to you, still not vocalizing his feelings, but being all touchy and pulling you into his lap and hugging and hoping you'll hug back to make him feel reassured. He's the least likely to actually admit why he's upset in the end, but as long as darling gives him kisses and cuddles and sweet words and all those other things he needs, he can be reassured with just that.

Xingqiu is kinda similar to Kaeya/Childe but even more obvious. Says passive aggressive stuff out loud rather than mumbling it. He still wants you to be the one to acknowledge it, but will blatantly push you to do so, he's impatient and less mature. He also won't tell you what it is, not because he's embarrassed, but because he wants you to figure out what you did wrong, since you *should* know, he thinks. Will also follow you around, stays pouty a long time. Difficult to placate, you have to more or less wait for him to get over it on his own, but apologies and affection will speed up the process. He might finally admit to being hurt, but will be very snobby and grumpy about it, not wanting to appear vulnerable.

At least you can finally get transparency out of Razor though. It's such a breath of fresh air from the others. Will literally just be like "I'm angry because of this >:(" and pout right in front of you. On the downside he's actually not quick to forgive. You can apologize but he'll keep pouting and being mad the rest of the day, it's certainly the most childish out of all because he just follows natural instinct as a child would do, which is to express anger by being mad and huffy in front of you to try to invoke more apologies. And if you move and walk somewhere else, he's close behind you, won't let you be alone because he's mad and you need to know he's mad so you have to keep seeing him mad >:( however, also very childishly, one quick way to get him back to normal and even snap from angry to happy is just offering him anything to make him happy. You wanna go for a walk?? Eat some food? Play a game? He just !!! And forgets he was ever mad. Or being overly apologetic, telling him you're sorry, you feel bad, he'll forgive you right...? He's easily manipulable so at that he would start to feel bad himself and forgive you.

Diluc is the biggest candidate for getting outwardly and openly angry. He's got some anger management problems going on, so he can't really control himself well enough to be too passive aggressive, he's just... Aggressive. Gets all snarly and eyes narrowed and openly says petulantly bitter things. Gets physical from the get go, grabbing you and dragging you around when you get frustrated and roll your eyes at him, just drags you to bed for whatever he has planned to get his anger out. Grabs you hard even if you're just pacing around the same room and asks you where the fuck you think you're going, he didn't say you could just walk out. However, because he's so openly angry, the thing is that it's actually kinda good because he gets out the anger all at once without letting it build and build, and so the anger peaks and dies down pretty quickly, and then he's just... Hurt. Folds his arms and looks sadly at the ground, lower lip pouting, very sad puppy eyes. He wants you to feel bad and dote on him and tell him it's ok and you're sorry and you still love him :( ...even though he might have just spent the past few minutes being mean and hurting you... That's not important, what's important is he's sad so you need to comfort him :( if you show him some affection he'll finally kinda just lean into the embrace and bury his head in your shoulder/chest and quietly say forget it, it's dumb, but if you push it he'll admit what he was mad about, just in that same quiet voice.

Albedo is one of the hardest to recognize. You won't know he's mad. It doesn't really show on his face. It doesn't show in his tone of voice or word choice. It's the little actions you finally notice. His walking is heavy, almost stomping. When he finishes with the equipment he was working on, he doesn't set it down gently, he harshly shoves it down or kinda drops it with a loud thud that makes you jump. He nearly slams doors. You can see his hand curled into a fist by his side, or his jaw clenching. If you don't bring it up soon, he starts getting a little passive aggressive, mostly cold shoulder, talks even less than normal. If you bring it up though, he acts like he has no idea what you're talking about. He's not mad. Why would you think that? You have to really push before he finally admits it, and when he does it's one of those rare moments of a break in his usual personality, he snaps and bitterly spits out an answer, speaking through clenched teeth, but more or less is transparent about why. After the outburst he just kinda sighs and says to forget it, nevermind, forget that happened... Secretly is kinda like Diluc, really hoping you'll come over and be all apologetic and tell him you're sorry for what you did wrong, you won't do it again, give him hugs and kisses please, just cling to him... And begging for forgiveness would be nice too. Gets kinda surprised Pikachu face if you actually do try to forget it and move on. Whoops.

Scara though. Almost comical. He's so so so so obviously bitter. His face twists up at half the things you say and he just kinda tch'es and crosses his arms. Openly passive aggressive, openly upset, but if you do what you're supposed to and apologize for what you did, or if you're too stupid to figure it out and have to ask what you did wrong... Well either way, he just flat out refuses. Realistically, it's because he's likely mad over something embarrassingly trivial and small, but can't help but be mad. But he just. Won't. Let it go. It's a weird duality where he refuses to tell you, rolling his eyes and trying to make it sound like it should be obvious, and if you're too dumb then you don't deserve to be told, but also won't get over it. Like Razor he just kinda follows you around because you need to know he's mad dammit. You need to feel bad and recognize that he's perfectly justified in being mad and you should be apologizing. If you start getting an attitude instead of being apologetic he just gets angrier and that's never good. If you finally do figure it out and say sorry he just kinda sighs and asks why it took you so long, clearly you're not sorry at all. Needs you to really grovel and beg for forgiveness before he'll actually let it go. Really snobbish and narcissistic about the whole thing, constantly making you feel stupid for not apologizing immediately.

[justshamie]

So went a bit wild on stream and came up with a College AU and then decided to write a lil oneshot for it. Enjoy c:

Link to AO3 | Link to Twitch if u interested in more shenanigans c:

-

There was a soft knock on the door, but Adora in her hazy state barely even moved. She must have been dreaming or maybe she just imagined it. Her dream was more inviting than the prospect of someone bothering her in the middle of her afternoon nap. This was her only break before her evening classes, and she needed that dream to continue. The view of mismatched eyes, and the soft smirk on Catra’s face was imprinted in her mind. 

She could enjoy that, couldn’t she? They might not have been anything official yet, but Catra. The girl that Adora wished months ago, that she maybe liked her back. Just enough so they could at least be friends. But now, Adora knew that Catra had feelings for her, and after everything they went through, she could embrace that. Now Adora could lay in her dorm room and daydream about holding Catra and putting her face in the crook of her neck, just relaxing. So maybe she was a bit smitten. No one could blame her. They spent every moment together they could, texting during lectures and hanging out together after. She knew Catra wasn’t big on being affectionate towards others, and yet Adora was an exception. Whenever they spent time with their friends it showed, she would flinch at hugs, not expecting them. Still Catra found her ways to be close to Adora. Showing affection wasn’t maybe her strong suit, but Adora was there to meet her in the middle. Sometimes just their shoulders would touch. Sometimes Catra’s confidence showed and she would quite literally sit in Adora’s lap. Sometimes it was just her finger tucked into the back of Adora’s shirt. Out of anyone’s view. Sometimes she would hold her hand even if she was doing something else. Adora would laugh at the way Catra ate soup with her left hand if not for the warmth that spread in her chest then. If anyone would point out the affectionate gestures, she knew Catra would retreat. Last time that happened they were hanging out with their friends. They met up to play a boardgame, but Catra ended up telling them to play without her. She just sat snuggled into Adora’s side, her head tucked under Adora’s chin, while she was slowly scrolling some book on her phone. They ended up in that position after an hour of a game of pretend. Adora pretended that she wasn’t melting inside at Catra getting closer, and Catra pretended that her snuggling into Adora was just because she wanted to stretch her legs. After Adora had her arm around Catra’s waist and her fingers intertwined into hers, she was not too happy to lose that. It took all of three minutes for Bow to notice. 

“You guys are ADORABLE,” he squirmed, holding his hands to his cheeks. Everyone laughed at his comment. Adora felt a blush on her face, but that disappeared as soon as she noticed Catra freeze. Adora could feel the tension in her body right under her hold. When the goodnatured chuckling died down, Catra just excused herself to the bathroom. After coming back the weight of her back against Adora’s torso was just a memory. She ended up on the opposite side of the couch and remained there for the rest of the evening. Adora understood. Or rather she tried to understand, while letting Catra be Catra. She didn’t say anything and when they were getting back to their dorms, she found Catra’s hand in hers. Everything seemed right in the world then. They would find their place together and Adora was going to be patient about it. However, she still longed for those touches. She wasn’t innocent and she would initiate them herself, and the way Catra relaxed into her was cathartic. She would live and breathe those moments. It was like an invisible force was pushing them together. She sighed and looked at her phone. She texted Catra earlier that she was going to nap instead of getting lunch and they could get some food after classes were done. They had different schedules for the day, so Adora knew that Catra would be sitting in a lab right now, learning some photo editing software and being all grumpy about boring lecturers. Adora felt an overwhelming need to poke her in the cheek right now. Maybe she was a bit more than smitten. The knocking was back. Adora rolled over and got up, ready to tell anyone who wanted to steal her precious daydream to piss off. She grunted and opened the door, pulling the most displeased look she could.

“What’s that face for, you dork?” Catra laughed seeing Adora’s grimace. 

“Catra!” Adora’s face went on a full trip. From irritation to shock, bashfulness and into that soft smile that was saved only for Catra. She stood there wearing Adora’s soccer letterman jacket. That made the warm feeling inside her chest grow. Adora gave it to her after one of the matches, because she was cold. Now it was like Catra didn’t have anything else in her wardrobe. She never told her to keep it, but she quietly hoped Catra would never give it back. It was like a part of her was always with Catra. Before she could think about it, she had her arms around her in a hug.

“Whoa, look out dummy,” Catra pulled away, shoving a paper bag between them. Adora looked at her puzzled. “Wait, what are you doing here?” she wasn’t complaining, but a moment ago she was sure, she wasn’t going to see her for a few hours. 

“I got us lunch, duh,” she answered in that snarky way that Adora knew was just supposed to hide whatever she was actually feeling. There was a flash of uncertainty in her eyes. Adora let her inside the room with a grin. Seeing Catra in there always made her feel warm. Something about her being comfortable in a space that was just Adora’s. Catra dropped down on her bed, settling the bag next to her. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” she asked, poking the bag absently. Adora saw those little glances directed at her. 

“Couldn’t sit in a boring Photoshop class?” Adora smiled and plopped down on the bed next to her. 

“I could learn more on my own, so I decided to bail,” Catra smirked. “Wait, you remember what class I have?” 

“I sometimes listen to you, you know,” Adora pulled out her tongue. “Besides remembering your schedule is convenient. That way I can plan when I can see you.” 

“I…uh. Okay,” Catra seemed to not know what to say at that. Adora waited. “Thanks.” 

“Thanks?” she tilted her head, imitating a puppy. Maybe she wanted to tease her just a bit. 

“Ugh… You know,” Catra pushed lightly at her shoulder. “For caring.” 

Maybe she also wanted to hear that.

“Of course, I care about you,” Adora smiled. 

“Dork,” Catra shoved her in the side and fell onto her back, stretching. 

“Yeah, I am,” at this point, smitten might not have been enough to describe Adora’s feelings. Catra was just laying on her back relaxing. Adora opened the bag with food and pulled out three small trays of sushi and some miso soup. She would have laughed for Catra’s choice of eating fish, again, but then seeing her all comfortable on Adora’s bed made her heart flutter. She heard the quiet rumble coming from Catra’s chest. Catra was sunbathing in the warmth of afternoon sun. Adora set the boxes on the coffee table. That feeling of longing came to her. Adora wanted to wrap her arms around Catra and bury her nose behind her ear, in that soft puff of fur there. She touched Catra’s hand and made gentle circles with her thumb on the top of the palm of her hand. 

“I’m gonna go grab us some plates, be right back,” she placed a soft kiss to Catra’s shoulder and got up. She was being patient, there was no reason to rush. If someone saw her in the corridor when she walked over to the communal kitchen to grab the plates, she didn’t notice. Her daydream came to life and she didn’t need any more distractions. Maybe she was pacing a bit. Having Catra in her room, wearing her jacket and relaxing on her bed was making her buzz. This was something she wished for a long time. Being patient wasn’t easy sometimes, but the feeling of being with Catra like this was worth everything. She stopped in front of her door. Plates in her hands. This was alright, she could have this warmth in her life, she could want to be with someone like this. She took a deep breath. It was alright. She opened the door. Catra was still lounging on her bed. She smiled. She put the plates down and crawled on the bed. 

“Did you just come here to nap?” she teased, her head over Catra’s face, hair cascaded over her shoulder. She saw how Catra’s ear twitched when it tickled her. 

“Don’t forget lunch,” a sly smirk showed up on Catra’s face, her eyes still closed. 

“Oh? Is that so?” Adora grinned and gently slid her fingers over the side of Catra’s neck. She felt the rumble hiding in Catra’s throat. 

“Maybe,” Catra said, the tone of her voice lacked that usual snarkiness. Adora knew that tone, although it didn’t come out of Catra that often. Maybe she wasn’t the only one that felt that in her chest. 

“Comfortable there?” she smiled and started to softly scratch behind Catra’s ear with her other hand. A soft purr started to fill the space between them. 

“Yeah,” Catra sighed. “I knew trading my classes for a nap was worth it.” 

“And lunch, right?” Adora smiled. She couldn’t keep the tease in her voice either. Being like that together felt too good. 

“Duh,” now Catra was smiling, that gentle expression that was saved for Adora. Adora had it catalogued in her mind. Adora could swear every time she saw that expression her chest was bursting from everything she felt. Their mouth were inches away. She could feel Catra’s breath on her chin. 

“I was daydreaming about you earlier,” she confessed. 

“Oh…” Catra’s cheeks turned a shade darker, she opened her eyes for a second but closed them right after. She looked like she wanted to say something. Adora waited again. “I missed you, that’s why I came here.” 

“I missed you too.” Adora touched their noses together playfully. She could feel Catra’s breath on her cheek. 

“You’re such a dork,” Catra smiled and bent her arm over her to grab at Adora’s shirt collar. “Come here.” 

That was invitation enough. Adora closed the gap between them in a soft kiss. Their lips met and she could feel all that warmth flow out of her chest and fill the room. She felt every muscle in her body relax. It was gentle and exactly what her body longed for. The sound of Catra’s even purr filled her ears. Both of them weren’t going to rush anywhere, just happy to be there. Together. They pulled away, Adora put her forehead to Catra’s. Both of them sighed at the same time. 

“Such a dork,” Catra giggled. 

“Worth it,” Adora joined in a chuckle and planted a kiss on her forehead. Catra’s stomach grumbled hungrily. 

“Right. Nap and lunch, how could I forget?” 

“And you.” Catra smiled, and Adora thought she could daydream about that smile forever.

[juhaksworld]

TBZ reactions to you forgetting what day their birthday is

(not exactly an au but let’s just pretend you can’t look up their birthdays online bc they’re idols lol)

Sangyeon:

lowkey hurt. (you meanie -_- ) like one day you were sitting together talking and you were like “oh my goodness I’m so excited for my birthday in a few months bc it’ll be a reason for us to get the day off and spend all day together and he’ll be like “we could do that for my birthday too!” and you’d be like “.....yeahhhhh!!!!! but ummm when is your birthday?? I’m really sorry I forgot. I’m terrible at remembering dates and stuff” and he’d be like “in two weeks” and you’d instantly feel so bad bc this poor boy deserves better (you meanie x2) you’d keep apologizing and he’d forgive you in his heart but he’d pretend to be sad the rest of the day just to make you feel bad ( as you deserve ) and you’d like make it up to him by planning this super sweet day with him and get him the awesomest gift and he’d tell you he wasn’t actually mad at you for forgetting but you’d make sure never to forget any important date again bc having sangyeon sad/upset with you was too heart wrenching,, even if it was just a joke.

Jacob:

you’d be like going through your calendar at the beginning of the year making sure you have everyone’s birthdays put in correctly and you’d casually ask him when his was and he’d be like “????” thinking it was a joke since y’all had been dating for like 3 years. and then you’d look up and realize how awful you must seem for not remembering so you’d make excuses like “i knowwww when your birthday is i’m just double checking….*blushes*” jacob would start giggling and then come sit beside you and hug you and be all sweet and say something like “ahh it’s alright! don’t feel bad at all!” but then he wouldn’t tell you to make you feel bad and you have to go searching through your pictures from last year to find the right day. he’d just laugh bc he knows you didn’t forget bc he’s not important,,, you’re just kinda forgetful. he’d tease you about it a lot. maybe he’d pretend to forget your birthday one day just to get back at you lol.

Younghoon:

he would think you were joking at first and be like “stahpppp you know when my birthday is!” and you’d be like “ummmm hoonie i don’t actually” and then he’d just be like shocked and a little hurt and then he’d start explaining to you about how his birthday was in fact the DAY OF HIS BIRTH INTO THIS WORLD and without his birthday there would be no Kim Younghoon. and you’d just be like “i know...why birthdays umm..are important hoonie” but he’d keep lecturing you about why you should remember and you’d feel so bad. he wasn’t upset,,, just shocked you could forget something like that. eventually you’d be like “i understand hoonie” and make an excuse to leave the room and then you’d call chanhee and desperately ask him to tell you when hoonie’s birthday was. chanhee would laugh at you but finally give in and then you’d rush back to hoonie and be like “BAEEEEEE YOUR BIRTHDAY IS AUG. 8TH!!!!!!” and he’d be like “duhhh” anyways,,, you’d avoid bringing that situation up with him or chanhee bc it was too embarrassing.

Hyunjae:

after he realized you were serious he’d just laugh in your face. like he wouldn’t be hurt at all he’d just think it was hilarious,, especially since you were so flustered about it and embarrassed for forgetting. he’d go on and on with you about how you “ForGOt HiS biRthDay” and you’d be pretty sure it was in the first half of Sept. but you just weren’t 100% positive, but he wouldn’t tell you and he wouldn’t let any of the other boyz tell you either. then at the end of the day he’d ask for your hand and you’d give it to him...a little afraid of what he was gonna do with that black marker he was holding. he’d write “SEPTEMBER 13TH 1997” in bold thick lettering on your wrist. and you’d be like “SKJDKDJFKSJDH WHY’D YOU WRITE THAT SO BIG WITH A MARKER??? NOW IT WON’T COME OFF!!!!” and he’d just laugh and be like “well,,, hopefully you won’t forget my birthday now!” then he’d kiss you on the cheek and run away for his life.

Juyeon:

clueless,,, he’d be like “you forgot my birthday?? for real? this isn’t a prank?” and you’d be like “i’m sorry T-T” he’d do that face like he’d just blink a couple of times looking at you with a slightly disappointed blank face like “ur serious bae?” and you’d try so hard not to laugh bc he looked so funny and cute but you’d feel so guilty. so you’d go on to explain that you were just having a “blond moment” and you couldn’t think of it. you knew when his birthday was...you were just blanking out right then. so you’d change the subject and cross your fingers that you would remember his birthday later and then you’d write it down 30 different times in different places and add a reminder for his birthday and a reminder to remember his birthday bc,,, you never wanted to admit to juyeon that you actually forgot his birthday. he was always so good at remembering all the important dates that had anything to do with you,,, so you wanted to be better at remembering as well 

Kevin:

he’d be so butt hurt over this oml. he would 100% never tell you and just sulk all day bc he always makes such a big deal out of your birthday that takes weeks of planning and you just ??FORGOT?? his???? a baby lol. even after you remembered and very loudly exclaimed “OOOOHHHHH YEAHHH OFC!!!! HOW STUPID OF ME FOR FORGETTING” he’d still sulk. you’d have to do some serious explaining of yourself and apologizing and everything. he’d watch you put it in your calendar and turn on reminders every day for a week leading up to his bday. would quiz you randomly after that asking you if you remembered his birthday. you’d have to prove your loyalty to him by remembering some small detail about him that was super important to him before he would completely forgive you.

Chanhee:

disappointed but not surprised lol. would just roll his eyes and be like “why must you be this way?” you’d feel bad,,, but not like super embarrassed bc he wouldn’t make a big deal about it. would tease you a little bit and pretend to be hurt,, but you would know he was just pretending. would ask you if you remembered other ppl’s bdays and when you could,,, he’d tease you even more “i feel like i should be jealous, y/n, that you remember juyeon’s birthday so quickly but not mine...your own bf of 2 years” he’d keep asking you randomly throughout the day if you could remember,,,, and when you finally did remember ( or you secretly asked on of the other boyz ) he would stop teasing you as much and just tell you you had to get a certain (expensive) gift for his birthday to make up for forgetting lmao

Changmin:

Laughs when you ask when his birthday is and then after a minute he’s like “wait--- you were being serious???” and you wouldn’t want to admit it bc you know he can get offended easily over certain things sometimes so you’re like “well...i mean...i know when it is...i just can’t..umm...remember...right now….” *nervous laugh* he wouldn’t exactly be upset..more surprised and a little confused like how do you literally forget your own bf’s birthday you weirdo. he’d just give you this judging look like “????” and that would make you feel even worse than if he openly was offended...somehow. anyway you’re like “i’ll just----- wait until it comes back to me...never mind” and you’ll quickly walk away or change the subject bc you hate having him look at you like you’re the biggest idiot of the century. changmin’s just like “this girl. what a strange person I’m dating”

Haknyeon:

he would be sad,,,like “oh my goodness, how did she forget???” I feel like he tends to overthink so he’d just be so astounded and depressed that you had forgotten such an important fact about him. so he begins to ask you other questions about himself to make sure you hadn’t forgotten everything about him like “what’s my mom’s name” “what year was I born” “when did we start dating” “what’s my favorite food at the moment” etc etc. and you just feel so terrible bc this poor buy is convinced that you don’t love him anymore and he just :(((  

[i’m sad writing this y’all ;-; ] 

so anyways,,, you’re like “listen hak,,, the reason i’m randomly asking when your birthday is is bc it’s my literal password and i forgot. I forget everything. you should know that by now T___T it’s not bc I don’t think it’s important to remember.” and hak would be like uwuwuwuwuwu “my birthday is your password?? that’s so cuteeee!!! <3 and then he’d tell you and forgive you bc,,, hak is like that

Sunwoo:

butt hurt pt.2. he’d sulk and sulk. “You can’t remember my own birthday baby???” pouts. you’d have to explain yourself thoroughly and even though he knows you sometimes forget important things,,, he’s still surprised and slightly offended. would say something like “you’re not allowed to have any kisses until you remember” and normally that wouldn’t be that bad of a threat bc you were sure you’d remember after a while,,, but you didn’t want him to be even more offended than he already was so you pretended to be heartbroken by this threat and started to act all desperate to find out his birth date (even though you originally just wanted it to put on a little drawing you were working on beside your bday lol ) and so you’ll like all frantically call chanhee on the phone asking when sunwoo’s birthday was (making it seem like a secret from sunwoo even though you made sure he heard) and then you proudly went to sunwoo and told him you remembered the date and by then he was laughing bc he realized how silly he was for being so sad. (you got a kiss on the top of your head for “remembering” lol)

Eric:

lowkey confused and highkey amused. you forgot his birthday??? lol. Is how he thinks. so like one day you were just talking with him and he was telling stories about his birthday a few years ago, before you started dating… and then you realized that you could not for the life of you remember when his birthday was...you were pretty sure it was in december...but that’s all you could remember so you asked him after he was done telling you a story. and he laughed and was like “duhhh it’s December 22nd” and you were like “OOOHHHHHH YEAHHHHH HOW COULD I FORGET???” and then he was like “wait--- you actually forgot??” and you were like “Ummm yeahhh,,,,, sorry ;-;” and then he was like “SHOOT i shouldn’t have told you so i could use that as a bribe against you!!” and you just [-_-] anyways he’ll randomly think of that throughout the day and be like “omg guys my own gf forgot my birthday. none of y’all have it as hard as i do” and then he’d pretend to be sad lol.

[hetalia-reacts]

PLATONIC HEADCANINS !! PLATONIC HEADCANONS !! HOW ABOUT- a doting touchy-feely PLATONC reader with the allies?? Friendship headcanons :3 (do Axis if u can but PLEASE don't do that if you are tired or busy PLEASE don't ♡♡:))

America

I feel Alfred is also a bit of a touchy-feely kind of friend too

Especially with best friends and whatnot

Is either always at your house or telling you to come to his

He just wants to watch movies or play video games with you

Heck he just wants to exist in the same room with his bestie

Will Alfred wake you up at 3am to do something with him?

Yes

Y’all will either be doing mundane things like going on a store run or literally committing a crime

There is N O in between

Since the both of you are both touchy-feely and likely clinging to each other you bet you’ve gotten the same question 1000x

“Are you two dating?”

You both either go for the ewww hell no or a straight faced but sarcastic yes we totally are

But it’s 50/50 if you both actually go for the same response

It’s a game at this point to see if you guys can read each other’s minds

You guys usually make an awkward situation for the person that asked because one will say yes and the other says eww and neither of you will back down and explain that you guys are just sarcastic and teasing jerks lmao

England

Arthur isn’t the most touchy person so having a friend that is can be tough sometimes

He does appreciate the hugs and physical comfort/support but he just gets kinda awkward

Well at first anyways

When you are certified besties he’s used to it and one can often find him gravitating towards you to just be close

Will never admit he likes it though sorry he’s a hard head

No one dares ask either of y’all that dreaded question though because they don’t want to deal with his sarcasm and the lecture that’s sure to follow

Arthur is a chill bestie though

Often invites you over to just be together

He doesn’t care if it’s just to talk, do something, or simply enjoy the presence of someone else

Help him cook maybe?

Even if you suck at cooking he enjoys attempting to cook with someone else

And that also means having fun in the kitchen and being complete dorks the whole time

And also having to order food or eat a sandwich because unless you can cook it’s going to be inedible

Will make you watch and read Sherlock, even if he has to be there or read it to you it’s happening

France

Francis is very touchy as a friend unless he knows someone dislikes it

So having a bestie that is like him is perfect

People probably think y’all are glued together at this point

No one would ever think y’all are dating either because Francis acts completely different with his bestie than a love interest

He’s kind of a mean ass ngl

He likes to jokingly bicker and fight with you

And definitely likes to cling and be dramatic with you to the point it’s annoying to others

Francis drags you with him everywhere

His house, the gym, the store, England’s house, etc

He cant just go alone anymore it would feel wrong like he’s forgetting something

If you’re bad at dressing or have no style he’s got your back

Literally shops for you but also constantly says things like you’ll never look as good as him

You are also one fo the few that will ever see Francis get serious or down in the dumps

It’s just something he doesn’t wear on his sleeve and reserves for those closest to him

Canada

Matthew is not used to having people cling to him

He’s not really used to having people notice him so having a someone that’s his bestie, that notices him the most, and always clings and talks to him is a strange and wild concept

Doesn’t mind the touchiness and honestly rather prefers it

He’s kinda touch starved :/

Matthew is likely always at your house with Kumajirou

Movie marathon and cuddles yo

Also as his closest friend you come to see his ‘secret’ side of being sarcastic and a complete savage

This boy does not hold back with you either

Maybe at first he did but when he realized y’all are in this friend stuff for life he won’t censor or sugar coat things if it’s not necessary

Makes you play and watch hockey with him

Will teach you everything if you know nothing

Matthew is the type of friend to invite you to his families holidays/vacations and come to yours

He knows and is cool with basically all of your family

I mean who could hate or dislike this polite boy?

Russia

Ivan is not used to friendship either as people usually tremble in fear before him

so having a friend that is touchy on top of having a close friend can be a bit much at times

But he’s happy!

He loves the hugs! Loves the contact! Loves having a friend!

Loves cuddles most of all he won’t lie, Ivan loves the feeling of comfort and support when you cuddle him

People do often assume you two are dating because most people assume someone would only put up with him if they were in love with him

Neither of you mind the rumors since y’all know the truth

Ivan is the sweetest friend

He shows up unannounced with food or groceries all the time

Always helping you out without being asked

Like oh your washing machine broke I fixed it/bought you a new one already or oh you suck at this let me explain it and teach it to you

Does this completely unprompted

He’s always over at yours or always inviting you over to his

Wants to do classic friend things?

Like things he sees in movies and shows that friends do a lot or things he’s overheard from others

Late night store runs, hanging out at parks, showing up unannounced to crash at your place, those kind of things

You’re the only person he confides in, you know all his secrets, his sadness, everything

Honestly, Ivan is the person who needs a touchy-feely friend the most out of everyone

China

Yao is happy about having a touchy friend but will always play like he hates it

Not in like a tsundere “I totally d-don’t need friends baka” kind of way but a really dramatic “omg I can’t believe you’re so obsessed with me haha loser” kind of way

He’s only joking of course and apologizes if you get hurt by his teasing or he crosses a line

Only a brave few would try and ask if y’all are more than friends

They have to listen to a lecture with an angry Yao explaining that people can be close and not want to date and how immature and inappropriate they’re being

Totally the type of friend that mothers you

Constantly says you look skinnier than last time and forces you to eat because he’s worried for you

Will not sugar coat anything for you

If you ask for his advice then I’m sorry but you’re gonna get it even if it makes you cry or get mad

Yao wants you over at his constantly

He’s lonely man ㅠㅠ

And he doesn’t want to leave the comfort of his house

Expect a lot of his gifts for your birthday/holiday to be cute plushies he found

Germany

Ludwig act differently depending on when y’all become besties

Like before Italy, he’s nervous, confused, and slightly annoyed by all the touching and notion of being besties

If it’s after Italy he’s used to all the touchiness and has figured out how to show his friendship to you in other ways

Like making you things! Or simply inviting you to hang out!

Ludwigs is always gonna be a bit awkward though

Always shy about hanging out and inviting you over

Many people assume you two to be dating because of his awkwardness but he is the first to start defending your friendship and it’s pure nature

He develops a sixth sense and now answers people’s questions about the two of you without even looking at them

He can just feel the nasty vibes

Asks you to do mundane things with him

Like shopping or even chores

Asks you to come bake with him a lot

It was embarrassing at first since not many people know his love of making sweets but he’s over that now

I know I say this a lot, but please work out with him _(:3 」∠)_

My guy just wants a work out buddy, a spotter, a n y t h i n g just please pick up the smallest dumbbell and pretend you want to work out

If you ask for advice expect him to be straight to the point about it but comfort you afterwards

Italy

Feliciano is a god tier bestie if your touchy-feely

Doesn’t matter if that touchy-feely emotionally and/or physically he’s down for both

Like please hold his hand, hug him, give him head pats, cheek kisses or any form affection really

No one even thinks anything of it, it’s just Feliciano being himself

If anyone did ask if you were dating he might get self-conscious of his actions, he doesn’t want you to feel uncomfortable or like he was trying to be something more with you

He’s easy to calm down though

Feliciano invites you out all the time

Restaurants, wine tastings, farmers markets, gondola rides, just about anything he can think of that he thinks you would like to do

Always at your house

He eats all of your food too, but he makes you some in return so it’s okay

Gives really good advice

Like for his bestie he’ll get super serious and thoughtful about your issues, even spending days thinking of solutions

Tries not to sugar coat things for you but ends up doing just that

He doesn’t want to make his friend cry or even more anxious

Will comfort you though if you are upset about anything he’s said and apologizes profusely for it too

Japan

Kiku is overall one of the ones who needs a touchy bestie but is the most challenging with receiving or giving the touchiness back

He’s a man who enjoys personal space and alone time, so he’s honestly surprised anyone considers him a true best friend

He knows he can get a bit feisty and shut himself away when he gets uncomfortable and that makes it hard to truly befriend him

But he’s really happy you stick around and deal with his awkwardness and rejection of your affection

Tries his hardest to at least accept your friendly affection

No one would dare ask if you two are flirting or together because my god it’s taking so much of his effort to just sit less than 2 feet away from you at the start so they don’t want to ruin his progress by making it awkward

Kiku definitely asks for your opinion on anime and manga

Gets into heated debates with you over certain ones

Is shy but asks you to come over a lot

Likes to have tea and snacks with you while you guys talk

Y’all can talk for literally a whole day

You sleepover a lot, he insists and even got you your own futon with a cool custom cover

Gifts you a kotatsu at some point because he loves them and he thinks you should enjoy them all the time too

When he gets over a lot of shyness he loves when you do simple forms of affection with him

Like ruffling his hair or holding onto his arm or even just leaning against him

He enjoys those the most since they aren’t too physical and mentally taxing on him and it still let you physically express your friendship with him like you love to do

If you ask for advice either get prepared for a harsh wake up call or a stumbling mess of words

It’s 50/50 if Kiku gives you the stone cold truth or tries to spare your feelings

As your friend he thinks you deserve the truth but he doesn’t want his harsh advice to ruin your mood or make you hate him

[pluviophile-imagines]

3 for bakugo or todoroki

I decided to do Bakugo for this, & then I got this ask after I closed the prompts for this event so I decided to go ahead and do it because it’s actually one of only two Halloween-related ones and I was planning to make this Werewolf!Bakugo anyway lol. This is a fun little AU that just kinda swaps quirks for supernatural creatures, loosely based off of a bunch of campy halloween stuff like Halloweentown and Sabrina The Teenage Witch. Also, the werewolves have destined mates like those dumb Wattpad novels, because sometimes tropes are fun and cute. Also this is THREE TIMES AS LONG AS I MEANT TO MAKE ALL OF THESE but ive also gotten like five??? individual asks for it 😭😭😭so y’all better not let it flop.

3: kissing so desperately that their whole body curves into the other person’s

Though you’ve known Bakugo pretty much your whole life, there’s a lot about werewolves that you don’t know.

If he were a different person, he probably wouldn’t be telling you at 5:47 on his 21st birthday that he’s apparently supposed to figure out who his soulmate is going to be tonight. If he weren’t so closed off, even to his best friend of over a decade and a half, then perhaps you wouldn’t be having this conversation, and perhaps it wouldn’t feel quite like pulling teeth.

“You have a soulmate?” is really all you can say, because most of your mental capacity is going towards keeping the sob in the back of your throat from being audible.

“Yeah,” he grunts. He’s not even looking at you, because he’s holding his phone in one hand and he’s scrolling through it, and though the two of you are sitting on opposite sides of the couch he has your feet in his lap, free arm wrapped all the way around them like he doesn’t want you to leave. “It’s… I dunno. Kinda cool, I guess.”

“All of you have soulmates?”

“Well, yeah. You witches don’t?”

You wrinkle your nose, trying your hardest to ignore the burning at the backs of your eyes. “No. We don’t.”

Out of the corner of your eye you see him purse his lips, as if troubled by the revelation. “Huh. How d’you know who’s the one, then?”

“We just. Figure it out? I guess. Is this why you’ve never dated anyone?”

“Yeah. Not really interested in anyone but my destined.”

He says it so easily, but you know him well enough to understand. He likes the idea of a soulmate; he’s looking forward to figuring out who they are tonight. Who would have guessed that he was a romantic?

It’s awful. It makes your chest burn. You’d only come to terms with your crush on the guy two months ago. Now he’s gonna be taken from you by some random person he’s never met?

No, you suppose, he’s always belonged to them. That’s how it works, right?

“D’you know who it’ll be?”

“Hah? No, dumbass, if I did that would defeat the purpose.” Bakugo pauses, glancing over at you with just his eyes, then darting them away just as fast. It’s probably just a trick of the light, but you could swear he blushes a little as he mumbles, “I know who I want it to be, though.”

Your eyes widen and you lean up, pulling your legs back (ignoring the way his hands tense before letting them go as if he wants to hold on) so that you can kneel on them right next to him. “Who?”

“Not happening.”

“Bakugo,” you whine, drawing out the last syllable of his name.

“I’m not telling you, brat.”

You lean forward, prodding at his cheek. “Is it Mina?”

“No.”

“Jirou?”

“I’m not telling you.”

“Kirishima?”

Bakugo growls out your name, a warning, but you don’t pull away, getting even closer until you’re practically draped over him.

“Todoroki?”

He grabs you, whipping towards you as his arms fly up to wrap around your waist and yank you off him, tossing you back to your side of the couch as you shriek in laughter. He’d never hurt you, you know, and roughhousing like this is hardly new in your friendship; plus, well, you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been hoping to feel his big, warm hands like this. Despite all his surprises tonight, he’s still all too predictable, and you’d seen this coming a mile away.

What you don’t see coming is him pausing, braced with one arm against the couch all too close to you, holding his torso over you with his head right above yours. And he stares, those crimson eyes unreadable with an expression you’ve never seen before, locked entirely on you.

You can feel his chest rising and falling steadily against yours, and your own eyes are drawn to where his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows thickly. You’re frozen, unable to move though you’d hardly want to anyway, and it hits you like a brick what he’s really been saying the whole night.

You open your mouth to speak, but then the hazy tension is shattered by the shrill sound of his phone.

Bakugo lunges away, pulls back with inhuman werewolf speed, grabbing his phone as he leaps to his feet. “‘S my mom, sundown’s soon, I have to go.”

“Wait, Bakugo—”

“See ya tomorrow, yeah?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, already half out the door.

“Katsuki,” you try, desperate, and it makes him freeze.

The door is open, his knuckles are pale with how tight he’s gripping the knob, but as much as you’ve tried it’s not enough. He’s gone without another word.

You don’t get to sleep that night.

It’s dumb; he’ll lecture you in the morning as he tells you all about his perfect amazing werewolf destined—that was what he’d called it, right? You prefer soulmate. Mate is a wolf thing anyway—who he’s spending all night with, running around in the forest howling at the moon and making out or whatever.

You stay out in the den, curled up on the couch with a blanket draped around you, ice cream in your lap, and an old movie playing that you’re not really listening to because you’ve been too wrapped up in your own head.

For an instant, you’d been so sure. A mere moment of absolute certainty that he was just as in love with you as you are him, that your oblivious pining for years was actually reciprocated. In the hours since he’d pinned you to the couch, you’d convinced yourself otherwise.

Imagine your surprise when there’s a frantic knocking at your door.

It startles you, making you jump about ten feet up in the air, and you freeze on the couch with wide eyes and a gaping mouth staring directly at the solid wood that seems to be shaking in its hinges. You’re halfway to casting a protection charm when a familiar gruff voice shouts your name from outside.

“I know you’re awake, I can hear you in there! Open the damn door!”

You glance at the time to find that it’s just under fifteen minutes to midnight. Awfully soon for him to be done, but you rise from your spot on the couch with the blanket still wrapped around your shoulders and move to let Bakugo in.

“Coming,” you say, not bothering to be loud because you know he can hear even the shifting of your clothes beneath the blanket.

He looks downright feral when you open the door, panting slightly, hair mussed up, eyes wild. But when he sees you, they light up, happy and excited like a damn puppy.

“Are you drunk?”

“Uh… kinda?”

“...Magical bullshit?”

He nods, a rough toss of his head to affirm. “Ancient rituals. Tipsy’s more accurate, if anything. Figured out who my destined is.”

“And you came to me? Shouldn’t you be with your soulmate, then?”

Bakugo blinks, clearly stunned, barking out a burst of laughter before shaking his head. “You’re somethin’ dumbass.”

You go to respond, more than a little insulted because he’s been acting so fucking weird all day and he has the nerve to say you’re being dumb, but any retort is flung from your mind as he steps forward and puts his hands on your arms.

Leaning in until your noses are practically touching, he speaks. “It’s you. It’s always been you.”

“H—huh?” you stutter out, heart stopping and mind reeling with his words.

“I wanted it to be you. And it’s you.” His hands slide down your arms to meet yours. “You’re my destined.”

There’s so much more to say, so much to ask him, everything ranging from but I’m a witch, how is that possible to so we could have been fucking dating this whole time but he doesn’t let you speak, clearly too overjoyed and inebriated, and you’re not entirely opposed when he yanks you in with exactly the level of roughness you’d imagine from him and kisses you.

And finally, finally, after a decade and a half of wanting to (longer than you even knew what kissing was), you can melt into him.

You believe him then, not that you particularly doubted. It’s like his lips are the missing piece to a puzzle, one you’ve been looking for your whole life. He holds you up with ease, werewolf strength coming in handy, as one hand laces with your own and the other darts to the small of your back. He’d be holding you closer, but you’re literally as close as you could be, body curving against him as his taller form hunches over you.

He kisses you far more sweetly than you’d have expected; no teeth or tongue but still all passion, heavy palm and fingers splayed across your back as the other hand pulls you and grounds you. It’s heated and it makes you forget that you’re both standing in the middle of the open front door at midnight.

You’re both reluctant to break away, you can tell because you both linger a little, bodies frozen as the kiss is followed by one, two, three more just as feverish but decreasing in length. Then the two of you pull away for real (not by much, no, he’s holding you far too intensely for you to get far) and you stumble backwards pulling him by his shirt into your home. He gets the hint, following and shutting the door behind you but not letting either of you make it very far beyond.

“All right,” you say finally, breathless both from the kiss and from giddy laughter bubbling up within you, “all right, you’re my soulmate.”

Bakugo kisses you again.

[saorikuhara39]

Animedia August 2021 Issue Obey Me translation COOL STAR SPECIAL

Animedia August 2021 Issue Obey Me translation feat. Mammon, Levi, Satan

(On sale Jul 2021)

Tame them or be eaten!? The key to leading a cool life in the Devildom lies in these cool-looking demon brothers!

①Tell us what's "cool" about you.

②On the other hand, please tell us what you think is "hot (passionate)".

③What is your favourite shaved ice flavour?

SATAN: The occasional smile of absolute zero will freeze your heart over!

①Whether I'm cool or not is for a third party to judge, but I think my composure is an advantage. Well, I mean, sometimes...... very, very occasionally, I lose myself in anger.

②The part of me that I am passionate about is my acquisition of knowledge. I'm very eager to absorb anything and everything, and when I'm curious about something, I look it up thoroughly. Every time I forget to sleep or eat for a week or so, my brothers and that human drag me out of my room.

③Blue Hawaii. It's refreshing, sweet, and delicious.

MAMMON: My love for money never cools down!

①My existence itself is cool! I can do anything, I'm tolerable, plus I'm a supermodel too! Oh man, I really have too much potential. That human should be more aware of the fact that the fabulous Great Mammon is their first demon. For real.

②No one can beat my passion for gamblin'! Ya can't win if ya give up in the middle of the game. The real fun starts when you've spent all the money of the people around you.

③Just dump in all the flavours they have! The more ya can get, the better!

LEVIATHAN: Basically  giving the cold shoulder  acting cool to everyone but fellow comrades.

①It's cool if I can say all the lines from TSL by memory, or if I know all the subtitles of the Ruri-chan anime by heart... It's not? I knew it.

②Passionate things? Then it's all about my life as an otaku! TSL is life! Ruri-chan is my raison d'etre (reason of living)! Also, I've been supporting Sucre Frenzy since their underground idol days, and now they're one of the leading idol groups in Devildom. I'm amazed they've managed to make it this far, although I think Zaramela and Roche would have deserved it too! 10/10 would recommend. They're so precious. Oh, what were we talking about again? Oh well. So, um...

③Strawberries, because Ruri-chan ate them in the beach episode!

WHO IS THE COOLEST DEMON!? THE DEMON BROTHERS' DISCUSSION BY MAMMON, LEVI, SATAN

There will be some cute anecdotes that only these brothers can show!

Q: Which of the brothers do you think is the 'coolest' of them all?

MAMMON: There's no need for any discussion, 'cause it's gotta be me, the Great Mammon!

SATAN: All in all, it's got to be Beel (Beelzebub) right?

MAMMON: Doncha ignore me!!

LEVI: I know what you mean. He answers like a cool character, and he's really strict about his muscle training.

MAMMON: So you call that cool? Ya must be out of your mind!

SATAN: Anyway, Mammon, it's not gonna be you, that's for sure.

Q: Please tell us about a recent 'chilling' story you have.

MAMMON: The other day I tried to borrow Lucifer's credit card, but instead of glaring or lecturing me, he just said "Hmm?" and smiled...... I've got the chills, to be honest.

SATAN: You were after my credit card before that, weren't you? How about we just freeze Mammon all together*?

LEVI: Ah! Then, what happened to the 20,000 Grimm you said you'd pay back three days ago?

MAMMON: Well, well, well. Let's get along, my dear brothers ♡

*referring to the incident where Mammon's credit card was frozen over (literally).

Q: Please tell us about an incident where you felt 'knocked out' against your brothers.

LEVI: For me, it's by Belphie. The other day, he was probably almost asleep, but when I passed by in the hallway, he said, "Good night, Levi nii-san". OML, the youngest one sometimes calls me "brother"!

MAMMON: Ew, you pervert. But then this is Belphie we're talking about. Even if he said somethin' cheeky, it's all good when we see his sleepin' face. He's cute after all......

LEVI: Oh, I think Lucifer's sleeping face is also pretty high on the list. It makes him look a little younger. It's like a sleeping face that I want to protect.

SATAN: You're grossing me out.

MAMMON: How 'bout you, Satan? Ya got anything?

SATAN: That would be by Asmo. When I was getting my manicure, my hands are all chapped! When he says it doesn't look beautiful, he handed me a Coco Buer hand cream and told me to use it the next time I get a manicure. He smiled so happily that I thought he was cute too.

LEVI: That 100% pure smile you unexpectedly get. I know. I can't get enough of it. Ruri-chan used to do that before-

MAMMON & SATAN: GROSS.

A sleeping face that I want to protect. - Leviathan

[wlntrsldler]

treacherous (j.p one shot)

PROMPT: based on treacherous by taylor swift. slight enemies to lovers? James Potter and Y/N can’t stand each other until they get to know each other. 

A/N: does not follow the timeline at all. the events are not accurate but let’s pretend for the sake of the fic lol. 

WARNINGS: mentions of death, a bit of wolfstar, and some sexual tension (brief)

WC: 5.6K+ (this is my longest fic yet omg) 

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST

-

treacherous (j.p one shot)

“You’re so goddamn reckless.” James hissed, slamming his fists down on the kitchen table. “You need to wait for my command. This wasn’t a solo mission, Y/N/N. We work as a fucking team around here.”

“If I waited for your command, Prongs,” you replied, rising from your seat. You acknowledged his nickname with a bitter taste in your mouth. You knew you had to listen to James because everyone listens to James but you knew your plan would work. “We wouldn’t have gotten the mission done.”

“You went rogue!”

“But we got it done, right?” you seethed, eye drilling holes in Prongs’ skull. You felt Sirius offer a comforting hand, placing his on top of yours. Your eyes flickered to look at your best friend, features visibly softening. You sighed, slowly feeling yourself come down from your anger. “That’s the important thing, Prongs. I’m done talking about this.”

“Yeah we got it finished but at what cost?” James pushed, not backing down from his dominant exterior. “You could’ve died, Y/N. We don’t trade lives around here.”

“You don’t have to act like you care about my well-being, Potter,” you spat, starting to limp away from the briefing. You sustained some minor injuries because of your decision but you knew you’d do it again if it came down to it. “We all know you just don’t want another person’s blood on your hands.”

It was a low blow. Everyone in the house knew that James was feeling guiltier and guiltier everyday because of the events that happened over the past few months. The McKinnons, the Prewetts, his fight with some Order members— all of it was finally taking a toll on James. Maybe it always did take a toll on him and he just never showed that it did. Nobody really knew what the last straw was but now it was obvious— James Potter was tired, worn out, almost defeated in nature. 

Yeah, what you said was a low blow.

James gulped, demeanor changing after your words rattled the room. Remus looked at James apologetically, not really knowing what to say. He didn’t expect that from you, nobody did. Lily cleared her throat, fixing the scattered parchment on her side of the table. Sirius stood up and patted James on the back, giving his shoulder a slight squeeze. 

“Right, uhm..” he started, blinking back the effect of your words. “We can revisit this some other time. Great job today.”

James left the room without another word, your voice taunting him as he walked further and further away from the team. Is that what you really think of him? A leader, if that, who only cared about not being the person responsible for another death? Did you think that he didn’t care about you? That you were just a number to him? 

Obviously you didn’t. You knew James Potter was a good man, deep down. You could see it in the way he put everyone’s needs before his. He wakes up every morning and gets everything done so the rest of you wouldn’t be burdened with such mundane things. James Potter cooked meals, cleaned the house you all shared, and bought groceries on the weekends because he thinks that you all fighting with him is something he can never repay you for. James Potter thinks that your trust as a team— as a family— is the most important thing in the universe and he’s so thankful that he has you all by his side, even if the whole world disagrees with your cause. James Potter is a good man. 

You had a loud mouth. You found yourself, more times than you’d like to admit, scolding yourself after you let your mouth run amuck. This was one of those times. You let your anger get the best of you. The only reason why you even got angry with James in the first place was his lack of trust in you. Did he not think you could complete the task successfully? 

“Y/N?” A voice from outside of your room called. You tried to get up from your bed, cursing as the pain shot through your right leg. “Hey, you in there?”

“Yeah,” you yelled out, realizing that it would be better for them to let themselves in rather than you try to open it for them. “Come in.”

Sirius entered, chuckling at your pained expression as you sat up in your bed. You glared at him, propping your injured leg on top of a pillow. “You good there, sweetheart?”

“Just dandy.” 

He sat next to you, careful not to touch your leg. He smiled at you, sadly, and you knew what was coming next. A lecture as to why you should apologize to James or at the very least take his point of view under consideration. This was almost normal, and it was definitely expected. You and Sirius grew close, attached to the hip at times, and he was the one who would typically talk some sense into you. You knew that he and James were the blueprint of what an everlasting friendship should look like so you listened to him. Rarely were you ever the first one to apologize, though, but you knew this time was going to be one of those times. 

“What you said to James..” he trailed off, eyebrows furrowing in worry. “I think he kinda took it to heart, Y/N.”

“I know,” you sighed, acknowledging your mistake. “I don’t know why I even said that.” 

“You don’t like to use your brain when you’re angry.” Sirius responds, laughing slightly. You push his shoulder playfully. “Just apologize to him, Y/N. You know he means well.”

“I know he does.”  

“So I’ll leave you to it then,” he announced, getting up to leave your room. “He’s in his room, locked himself in there since the meeting.”

Ouch. You felt the guilt start to eat you up. Sirius shot you a warm smile before shutting the door behind him. Groaning, you lifted yourself up, trying to ignore the swelling in your leg. Was it the smartest idea to walk on an injured leg? No, but you were never one to have smart ideas anyway and today’s events made that clear.

You started to make your way down to James’ room but stopped when you saw him exiting the bathroom. You began to walk towards him, gasping in pain when your foot landed the wrong way. 

“Goddamnit, James!” you shuffled towards him, gaining some speed. He stopped to see who was calling him. His face paled when he realized it was you and continued to walk towards his room. “Will you wait for me?”

James stopped in his tracks, feeling bad that you were chasing him with a bad leg. He waited patiently as you limped towards him, an annoyed look on his face. “What do you want, Y/N?”

You blinked, not expecting the harsh tone he was using. No matter how many times you and James argued and were at each other’s throats, his harsh tone always surprised you. He raised his voice, yeah, sure, but this— this was different. You tried to ignore it, knowing that you probably deserved this. “I just wanted to say sorry for what I said earlier.”

He froze up, looking down at his feet. He glanced over at your leg, red with bruises littered over your skin. God you were lucky you didn’t die, he thought. James shrugged, “I don’t care, Y/N. Is that all?”

“Well, blimey,” you snorted, already putting up your harsh exterior, “I was trying to be nice. Get that stick out your ass.”

“Are you done?” 

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” 

That was it. 

James walked away and entered his room before you even moved. You were left to crawl your way back to your room, quite literally. Half way through, the pain in your leg traveled to your hip and you gave up on walking. Remus found you dragging your body across the carpet and took it upon himself to carry you back to your bedroom. You thanked him, half-heartedly, not being able to forget James’ hurt expression from your sorry-excuse of an apology. 

-

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You were all supposed to win the fight. You were supposed to reconcile and have a drink at the house, continuing to dance the night away. You weren’t supposed to lose. 

Half of the people you knew were gone. Poof. Like they never existed. 

You, Lily, and James stayed in the Potters’ home, resting after a long day of fighting. Dumbledore left to check on the Order, or what was left of them. Molly and Arthur joined him. Peter was— Merlin knows where. Sirius left to check on Remus. The world seemed so quiet. Empty. 

“It’s not the end,” Lily tried to say, looking between you and James. She paced the floor, unsure if she even believed her own words.

There hasn’t been much spoken between the ones who survived. You started to wonder if you were one of the lucky one who survived or if this fate was more unlucky given the circumstances. You lost people you called your family. You all did. 

This was a battle none of you expected. It was a surprise attack on the Order during a time when you all had your guards down. One minute, you were all in the backyard, excited as the Weasley’s announced another addition to their already large family. People were dancing, cheering, drinking, and for a moment it seemed normal. 

And then they came. They slaughtered everyone that they could. You were lucky enough to get out before it got too crazy. You ushered the young kids into the room, casting protective charms as you held onto Percy Weasley with your other hand. You watched people fall. You heard people scream in terror as they were being tortured. You shielded the kids from looking out the window, afraid that if they were to see something so traumatizing, they would never recover. You were sure it would take years before you would.

“I’m gonna help Euphemia out,” Lily announced, getting up from her seat. You knew there wasn’t much that Euphemia needed help with, Lily just felt restless and she wanted to do something that she could control. 

James nodded silently, staring at his shaking hands. There have only been a handful of moments where you’ve seen James Potter— confident, self-assured, James Potter— doubt himself or be nervous. 

The first time was when he put on the Sorting Hat in your first year and he pleaded the tattered hat to place him in Gryffindor, though the hat knew better than to place him anywhere else. Then, second year came around and you four found out that Remus was a werewolf. You accidentally overheard their conversation, and it confirmed the suspicions you’ve had for a year. The third time was in fifth year when Sirius made the stupidest mistake of his life and told Snape about the Whomping Willow. He was afraid he’d lose his second family because of it, and he knew that Remus’ anger was justified. And the last time, before today, that you’ve ever seen James Potter nervous was in seventh year. It was the day after his date with Lily— a date that took him years to convince her to go on— and he realized that they were not compatible at all. Poor bloke was afraid to hurt Lily’s feelings and when he finally told her, she laughed and said, “I know, Potter. I’m glad you see it now.” 

Now, you were alone with a terrified James Potter and you didn’t know what to do. You stared at him from across the room, unsure of your next step. You cleared your throat, “Do you need me to do anything, Potter?” 

“Huh?” he looked up, eyes weary and mind jumbled. He registered your question and he shook his head, “No, I’m alright. Um, are you going to be staying here tonight?” 

You gulped, “Yeah, if that’s alright. I-I don’t really have a place to stay, but if you want me to leave I’m sure I can stay with Remus and Sirius.” 

“No, no, it’s perfectly fine,” James replied, quickly, getting up from his seat, “I’m sure mum and dad won’t mind. Please, make yourself at home.” 

“I appreciate that,” you sent him a tight-lipped smile and rocked back and forth from your heels to your toes, ignoring the pain that shot up your leg with every move. 

“I’m gonna help mum.” 

“Okay.” 

He left you in the room, rushing to help his mother, but you had a feeling it was to save the both of you from the awkwardness of the situation. Sighing, you began to make your way to your room upstairs. You were half way out the room when suddenly, the room was filled with your friends. Some of the remaining members of the Order popped in, stopping you from completing your plans. 

“Well, welcome back everyone,” you remarked, sitting on the couch. “Nice to see you.”

James, Lily, and Euphemia all entered once they heard the commotion. James stayed by the doorframe, arms crossed as he watched Dumbledore take center. Lily and Euphemia sat beside you, on opposite sides. Euphemia gave your leg a light squeeze and a kiss on your temple. 

“As you all know, today’s attack caused mass casualty,” your old professor started, eyes flickering to empty spots in the room that the old members used to occupy. “To prevent such things, we will assign teams to designated areas. We can no longer put all our eggs in one basket. We need to prepare.” 

Dumbledore continued, “Euphemia, you and Fleamont stay with Mad-Eye. He needs your expertise. Remus and Sirius, your flat is near the Black family home, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah,” Sirius replied, “Wanted to be close, just in case.” 

Regulus. Sirius wanted to be close to look after Regulus. 

The old wizard nodded, “Very well. You two stay there and make note of any movement. We suspect they’re having meetings there. Lily, Dorcas, and Peter, you three will be taking care of Hogwarts students who live in the muggle world. They’re in Hogwarts for sanctuary, but since Minerva and myself are going to be preoccupied, we need you to make sure they’re safe.” 

“What a reunion, aye gang?” Dorcas chuckled, though her laugh was empty. Lily snorted, shoving her lightly as a move of endearment. 

“James and Y/N, we need you two here. This will be our headquarters.” 

Sirius scoffed, “Professor, are you sure you’d want to pair Prongs and Y/N/N? We’ve already lost a lot of Order members and I’m afraid that if you pair them, we’ll lose one more. One of them will end up killing the other.” 

“Shut it, Pads,” you glared, scrunching your nose, “I’m sure Potter and I can be civil.” 

“I can be,” James added, side-eyeing you. 

“What does that mean?” you questioned, squinting your eyes at the boy by the door. You began to get up but Euphemia stopped you, placing a hand on your shoulder. 

“James,” she said, warningly. 

“Alright,” Dumbledore clapped his hands, calling the attention back to him, “I expect you all to be at your posts by tonight. Stay safe, everyone. Our numbers are dwindling by the hour.” 

By 11PM, the house was empty. It was only you and James left. You locked yourself in the comfort of your room, staring wordlessly at the ceiling. The house was unusually quiet. There was no loud laughter coming from the living room— four boys who had to grow up too fast. You sighed, swinging your legs down the side of your bed, wincing as you forgot about your injuries. 

“Fuck me,” you muttered, closing your eyes for a moment until the pain subsided. Once it became bearable, you slipped on your house shoes and made your way down the stairs. You tried to tiptoe down the stairs, not wanting to wake James and go through another awkward encounter. However, once you got to the entrance of the kitchen, you realized your efforts made no sense as James leaned against the cold counter, a cup of tea in hand, and his glasses fogged by the steam from his drink. 

His eyes flickered over to where you stood, suddenly making you feel self-conscious. You were wearing nothing but pajama shorts and a large t-shirt that you were sure once belonged to Sirius. James raised his cup a bit as a sign of acknowledgement. 

You smiled awkwardly and poured yourself a glass of water, “What are you doing up?” 

“I reckon for the same reason you are,” he replied, taking a sip from his tea. James snickered, “Nice shirt.” 

“It’s Padfoot’s,” you chuckled, “Don’t tell him I still have it.” 

“Actually,” James started, placing his drink down. He faced you, “It’s mine. I let him borrow it and I asked for it a few times now. He keeps telling me he’ll give it to me later but I had a feeling he was stalling because he lost it. Mystery solved.”

You blushed, “Sorry, did you want it back?” 

“No, it’s alright. Looks good on you,” he coughed, ducking his head to hide the slight blush on his cheeks, “Can’t sleep?” 

“No.”

James nodded, “Yeah, me either. You can sit with me for a bit, if you want.” 

You pondered it for a moment until you finally decided that a conversation with James Potter was better than staring at an empty ceiling for the rest of the night. You limped to the seat in front of him, clutching your glass of water like a lifeline. 

“Are you still hurt?” James questioned, getting up to help you to your seat. He held your arm as you sat on the chair. Once you were situated, he knelt beside you, inspecting your leg, “You are still hurt. Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“It’s not a big deal,” you sighed, rubbing the back of your neck in embarrassment. “We all had bigger things to worry about.”

“Why didn't you just cast a spell on it?”

“I’m not the best healer around,” you admitted, looking down at him. 

If it was any other circumstance, you would not have admitted your shortcomings to anyone— especially not James Potter. But perhaps it was the toll that the war had put upon you or the tiredness in your system… Or perhaps it was the way he was staring at you from his position on the floor, eyes wide with worry with the candlelight reflecting off his glasses and the look of absolute beauty on his face, that made you become so brutally honest. 

“And why didn’t you ask one of us to help you?” 

You scoffed, “Well, none of you are licensed healers, either. I figured I’d just live with it until it healed the muggle way.” 

“Always so prideful, you are,” he chuckled, pulling out his wand. He muttered a simple incantation and then studied your once injured limb. “There. Better?”

You looked down at it, pleasantly surprised that it was indeed better. You nodded, a skeptical look on your face. James dusted off his pajama pants and made his way over to the seat he occupied before. You tilted your head, “Where did you learn that?”

“I learned for Remus,” James said, “After his transformations, sometimes he would still be in pain from turning so I learned a few things to help him. Sometimes it helped, sometimes it didn’t but Remus always says that just the thought that I wanted to help him helped with his recovery. Load of rubbish, I say but who am I to decide that, right?”

“Wow.”

James laughed at your reaction, drinking from his tea once more. A playful smile appeared on his lips, “I do have a heart, you know. I’m sure everyone else can see that but you.”

You rolled your eyes, “I know you have a heart, Potter. That’s not why I can’t stand you.”

“Enlighten me then.”

“Well, Godric, where do I start?” you hummed, a laugh escaping your throat. Now it was his turn to roll his eyes, smirking at your answer. You bit your lip, “Let’s see… you’re arrogant, cocky, obnoxiously loud. You act like you know everything, all the time.”

His eyebrows shot up. James’ tongue poked out to dampen his cracked lips, “Don’t hold back, I guess.” 

“Shut up,” you chuckled, “Your turn. Why do you hate me?” 

“Because you hate me.”

“Come off it,” you stared at him, shaking your head. “Why do you really hate me?”

“Seriously, that’s it. I only act like I don’t like you because you don’t like me. I don’t actually hate you, you know.” 

You were in shock. Your voice came out as a whisper, “Really?”

“Really yeah,” he shrugged, as if his confession was nothing, “You love Sirius, Remus, Peter, Lily, and all our friends like they’re family to you. I can tell you’re a genuinely good person with how you treat the most important people in my life. I can’t hate a good person.”

You pursed your lips, “Well, I only dislike you because you act like I’m not a good witch.” 

“What?”

“Come on, James,” you gestured with your hands. “You act like I’m a bloody awful witch and an even worse person. Always have since we were in Hogwarts. I just always assumed you thought I wasn’t good enough.”

James was baffled, “Are you being serious right now?”

“I mean, yeah,” you began to explain, thinking back to the many moments in the past where he made you feel that way. “I remember when we first all found out about Remus. I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone but you still followed me for two months to make sure I didn’t say anything because you didn’t trust me. Or whenever Sirius would tell you to ask me for help on a prank that required some advanced charms, you would refuse to let me participate like I couldn’t possibly be any help to you. Or more recently, when we had that task to do and you blew up on me for not following the intended plan. You don’t think I’m capable.”

“Y/N, I never thought I made you feel that way,” James frowned. “I was just really scared for Remus. Even as a second year, I knew that he was going to be my best friend for life and I just wanted to protect him. I didn’t let Sirius drag you into our pranks because I knew you were aiming for a spotless record at Hogwarts. I didn’t wanna get you in trouble because honestly, a prank that didn’t end with at least one of us in detention was a failed prank.”

“Oh,” you squeaked, “I didn’t know that was where your mind was.” 

“Yeah,” James continued, “A-and as for the last task, I just didn’t want you hurt. We’ve lost enough people already. I’d hate to lose you, too.” 

“Careful, Prongs,” you teased, swirling the water around in your glass, “You’re gonna make me think you actually like me.” 

“I do, yeah,” he admitted, “I’m quite fond of you.”

The both of you stayed silent after those words left his lips. It wasn’t awkward, it was comfortable. It was the first time you two had a proper conversation and you learned things about each other that you never imagined. James continued to sip on his tea and you stared at each other from across the counter. You smiled at him, admiring the redness of his cheeks.

“Well,” you finally said, standing up. You placed the empty glass in the sink and made your way to the stairs, “I think I’ll turn in for the night.”

James smiled, showing off his perfect teeth, “Goodnight, Y/N/N.”

“Goodnight, Prongs,” you returned his smile, turning your back on him. Before you reached the first step, you turned back around, “James?”

“Mhm?” 

“I think I can grow quite fond of you too.”

James’ eyes flickered from his tea to your face, his cheeks completely flushed pink by now. He bit the corner of his bottom lip, trying to suppress his smile. He chuckled, shaking his head, making his curls bounce around. You willed yourself to remember that image because it was the first time that you truly saw James Potter for who he was. 

-

Over the next few weeks, you and James began to grow closer. Your late night conversations almost became mandatory. He began to leave a cup of tea for you across from him where you sat the first night. It took him precisely three nights to finally make your cup the way you liked it without being told. He started to light the fireplace in the living room after seeing goosebumps rise on your skin a week and a half after the first night. Then by the third week of your traditions, he began to walk you up to your bedroom door to wish you a goodnight there. 

Sirius and Remus didn’t come to check in until a month later. Sirius, as always, made himself feel at home by raiding the kitchen and eating the food that you and James made earlier. Remus laughed from the living room, muttering about how Sirius acts like he doesn’t feed him. 

Sirius sat beside James, peering over the pile of parchment on the side of his desk. He nudged his best friend’s shoulder, “Surprised you and Y/N haven’t killed each other yet.” 

James blushed, “She’s not so bad, Pads.”

“Oh, I know that,” he hummed, taking a bite out of the biscuit in his hand, “Glad you know it now, too.”

“I never thought she was bad,” James frowned, placing his quill down to properly talk to Sirius, “Why does everyone think that I do?”

“Prongsie, darling, you would always shut up whenever she’d walk in. You’d avoid her like the plague.” 

“I just knew she didn’t like me, that’s all. Figured that if I shut up, she’ll see that I’m not so bad.” 

“Huh… Why did you want her to like you so bad anyway?” Sirius asked, sitting on the desk now, disregarding the work that James had done. He waited patiently for James to answer, but the answer never came. Instead, James’ cheeks flushed pink and the boy tried to hide his flustered expression by pretending to massage his temples. Sirius’ eyes widened and he jumped off the desk with excitement plastered over his face, “You fancy her! Merlin, how did I not see it before?! You fancy Y/N/N!”

“Will you—” James shushed Sirius, pulling him down by the fabric of his shirt. He was starting to draw attention to himself. James saw Remus stare at the two boys, puzzled as to why Sirius was running around like a dog. James wouldn’t be surprised if he turned into Padfoot just to swing his tail around. “Will you calm down?”

“Sorry, sorry,” he whispered, his lips still twisted in a large grin, “You fancy Y/N/N.”

“Yeah, I do,” James was embarrassed now. He didn’t expect to come clean to Sirius like this— not in the middle of a war. “I’ve always thought she was gorgeous, you know, even back in Hogwarts! I just never did anything about it because she hated me. I mean, really, genuinely, hated me. Then we got to know each other over this time and— I don’t know, Pads. She’s great.”

Sirius smiled so hard, James thought his lips would tear apart, “Yeah, she bloody is. Are you gonna tell her?”

His eyes widened at his best friend’s words as he frantically shook his head, “Merlin, no! Of course not! We’re in the middle of a war, Pads, and I’m sure she barely tolerates me. I doubt she’ll like me.” 

Before Sirius could reply, you appeared behind the two boys, an eyebrow raised, “What are we talking about gentlemen?” 

“Nothing!” James exclaimed, rubbing the back of his neck in fear, “Sirius was just saying how he needed to get home. Right now.” 

“Is this how you talk to your best friend that you haven’t seen in a month, Prongs?” 

Remus entered as well, laughing as he spoke, “Come on, Sirius. We do have to head home now. Nice to see you both.” 

“Always a pleasure, Moony,” you smiled, hugging them both before they apparated out of the house. You poked James’ cheek, “So what were you really talking about?” 

“Guy stuff,” he lied, returning his focus back to the parchment that Sirius messed up. 

“Guy stuff?” you snorted, grabbing his jaw and turning his head to look at you. James visibly gulped, all the color draining from his face. You cocked your head, not letting go of his face, “We’re lying to each other now, Potter? Shame.” 

“‘M not lying,” he said, voice shaky. You were so close to him. He could smell the strawberry chapstick you dabbed on your lips. Godric, your lips looked so kissable. 

“Yes you are,” you tutted, your palm now cupping his jaw. You didn’t even realize how intimate this move was, too busy looking into his eyes to notice your movements, “I can tell.” 

“How?”

“You can’t look me in the eye,” you stated, eyes flickering to the different features on his face. You never noticed the small freckle on the bridge of his nose or the small, fading scar on the left side of his lips. “Whenever a good man is lying, he can never look at someone in the eye. So tell me, James, what were you guys talking about?” 

James still refused to look at you in the eye. He couldn’t bring himself to because he knew you were right. The minute his eyes met yours, he would crack like an egg. Instead, he focused it on your parted lips, feeling your breath tickle the tip of his nose as you spoke. He mumbled, “I can’t tell you that.”

You didn’t know what came over you but when you spoke again, your voice came out as a sultry tone— breathy and slowly dragging your words, “Please.”

James’ eyes immediately jumped to look at yours once he heard the tone of your voice. He’d never heard you use that tone before and he would be lying if he said it didn’t make him weak in the knees. And for the sixth time in your life, you saw the nervous James Potter again. In a moment of weakness, he spoke, “You. We were talking about you.” 

“Me?” you asked, shocked by his revelation. Your hand that was once cupping his face was now hanging off his shoulder. You twirled a curl on the nape of his neck around your index finger, slightly tugging it. It took all of James’ willpower not to groan at the pressure. “What could you have possibly been saying about me?”

“How utterly insufferable you are,” James nudged his nose with yours, tilting his head the slightest bit. His tongue poked out of his lips, licking them in both nervousness and excitement. 

“I’m only insufferable because you make me this way,” you tilted your head the opposite direction. Your lips were moving towards each other with every breath you took. 

“Is that so?”

“Yes,” you whispered, closing your eyes. You let your lips ghost over his, before pulling away. You opened your eyes to taunt him, a mischievous smirk on your face. You pulled away from him, untangling his hair from your finger. 

“See, you’re proving my point. You’re insufferable,” James said. 

And with that, he pulled you by your waist, a surprised squeal left your mouth. He placed you on his lap before he kissed you. You instantly wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. His lips melted with yours, tongues shying away from each other until he finally had the courage to caress yours with his. James squeezed your hips, pushing you down his lap. A soft moan escaped your throat and that brought James back to reality. 

Before things could escalate, he pulled away— lips bruised and completely out of breath. You smiled at him, biting your bottom lip. He returned the favor, running a hand through his hair.

“I didn’t want to continue without telling you,” James confessed, “I like you. A lot, actually. I don’t want you to think this means nothing to me because it does. I-I hope it means something to you, too. If it doesn’t, let me know because I don’t want to do this if I’m just setting myself up for failure here.” 

Your features softened at his words. You cupped his face in your hands, once again, and kissed the tip of his nose, then each cheek, then his forehead, and finally, his lips. It was an innocent one, less steamy and passionate than the first, but lovely regardless. You intertwined your fingers with his, “This means something to me, too, Potter. You’re not the only one who feels that way.” 

“Really?” he asked, now grinning widely. He connected his forehead with yours, chuckling, “Who would’ve thought we’d get here?”

“Not me,” you giggled, “However, don’t think I won’t bicker with you now that I know you’re an incredible kisser.” 

“I didn’t expect you to go easy on me,” James laughed, wrapping his arms around you. “But now, I can just kiss you to shut you up.” 

You pretended to think about it for a moment with a fond smile, “Hmm.. I suppose that’ll work.” 

James pulled you closer to his body, looking up at you as you sat on his lap. He murmured into the skin of your neck, “See? Insufferable.”