#me trying to ignore the pure pain we gonna see tonight like help

[theroguequeen]

I need another daemon and rhaenyra scene where it's just them, reconnecting, just a few hours of escape for both of them, exploring each other's bodies again and again, whispering sweet nothing in high valyrian and daemon holding rhaenyra in his arms, because this time he is back while knowing that it will mean his death and trying to remember every move she makes, every little noise, her voice, the smell of her hair and the way her skin feels under his fingers, moments that just belong to them, little smiles and a lot of moans and feeling each other's presence before finally falling asleep and feeling safe even if it's just for the night. They deserve this so much.

[startanewdream]

#15 from kissing prompts please😂😂😂 with sirius interupting them?

Hello! This prompt fit so well with Shirtless (Braless?) Lily June, that I just had to write it, so thank you so much for providing me the inspiration.

And because #15 was rather steamy, this is rated M ;)

‘You are gonna be the death of me, Evans,’ declares James, voice heavy and strangled, all of his attention occupied with kissing her neck, his hands sliding over the curve of her waist unable to decide where to focus.

Lily lets out a snort, amused (unlike him, her hands are purposefully feeling his chest under the opened buttons of his shirt, because Lily knows exactly what she wants).

‘Am I back to Evans, now?’

James could answer, something about how he only slips into her last name when he isn’t thinking clearly because he very much enjoys calling her Lily, but words are overrated. And he has much better use for his mouth, now busy with finding that particular spot under her ear that always makes her let out a soft moan.

Two weeks. They’ve been dating for a fortnight and James already knows one particular spot in Lily Evans and, by Merlin, he wants to know so many more; there are so many things he wants to share with her.

Like that night, for instance. Slug’s Club traditional Christmas party. It’s an event, and it's a big one as far as James is concerned; it’s their first formal date for all purposes, and he was intent on doing everything right, being the perfect boyfriend.

Things had been according to his plan — he’d given her flowers to celebrate it, nice winter flowers of the colour of her outfit (which he had goaded Mary into telling him); he’d trained dancing to waltz with her (Sirius had helped him as his best friend, under the chuckles of their friends); he had even managed to comb his hair so it looked moderately tamed for once.

Then everything had gone south the moment Lily had taken off her cloak when they reached Slug’s office, to reveal a sparkling blue dress that matched less the cold night and more of James’ dreams of her.

It was not that it wasn’t obvious that James was quite attracted to her; it wasn’t like it was a secret that he found her beautiful, and particularly tonight with the careful make-up on her face, that strawberry red on her lips and the smokey effect around her eyes that made the green glint dangerously.

But his attraction for her became corporeally obvious the moment she revealed her dress, a light blue, sleeveless satin dress with a v-neck, that hung loosely above the waist and clung to her hips.

He should be able to drift his eyes from her cleavage, he should ignore the swell of her breasts that the dress made sure to highlight, if not for the fact that when his gaze met hers, Lily was smirking.

Not any smirk.

That I-know-I-am-driving-you-crazy smile that James himself had used on her before they began dating.

He can respect her for choosing carefully the moment to make him prove his own poison. Merlin, he loves her for that.

A better man might resist, might pull off a fight for his pride and refuse to let her tempt him so easily, but James was never proud when it came to Lily. So he endured all the party, still relenting in the idea of being the perfect date, and the moment dessert started being served, James figured it was enough.

Lily didn’t bat an eye when he asked her if they could go back. That smirk had not left her face all party, and she didn’t even look surprised when at the moment the portrait closed behind them in the Common Room, James pushed her against the wall, his lips crashing over hers with a desperation that suggested he hadn’t seen her in weeks.

Not in those clothes, that he hadn’t seen her ever, but it’s a sight he can get used to as far as he knows.

They are alone in the Common Room, only the embers of the fireplace illuminating the room, with no expectation of anyone coming to find them. So it’s easy, embarrassingly easy, for his hand to slide the strap of her dress until the middle of her arm, only her breast holding it in place.

His lips are still over her neck, now arched to give him the best access she can, and his gaze falls to her cleavage that the dress reveals so nicely. She’s not wearing any bra and somehow this realization — though he should already know it — presses more his desire for her. He let his mouth follow the trail of the freckles she has on the shoulder until he’s kissing the top of her breast. She shudders but does not reprimand him.

He places small kisses over any exposed flesh he has access to, then he raises his hand on her waist, just enough to hold her under her breast. His thumb moves carefully, feeling the swell of her breast, and her sharp intake of breath makes him pause.

His eyes meet hers when he raises his head.

‘James,’ she calls him, breathless; her green eyes are a black pool as she stares at him, unblinking. ‘Don’t stop.’

It seems both a request and an order, but whatever it is, James will fulfill it. His hand moves away from her breast enough to finish sliding the dress strap off her arms, and then the sight of her left breast greets him, the nipple hard, up and down with her heavy breathing.

Merlin, he could stare at it forever.

But it would not be enough, so he lets his hand touch it again, feeling it, thumb over her nipple in a way that makes her moan (particular spot number two, he thinks, recording it dutifully), and then his lips replace his thumb. Her hands react immediately, burying themselves in his hair, messing it in a much more spectacular way than James could do it, and giving him a very clear instruction.

She doesn’t want him to move away.

Which suits him just fine, because he feels he won’t ever want to move away either, not with the sounds that escape from her lips as he slides his tongue over her breast, desperate to kiss everything, to taste the flavour of her skin, to immerge into the scent of her body.

A hand searches her other breast, over her dress, urging him to find some balance after all, and the other hand holds her back, dangerously close to her bum, and by Merlin he doesn’t want to stop. He frees both of his hands, trying to lift her dress, but the skirt is too tight.

‘James,’ she calls him once more, his name feeling eternal on her lips, a siren call he can’t refuse. He stops kissing her just enough to lookat her. ‘We can go upstairs.’

That made him hesitate, not because he is unsure, but because he wants it very much; his body is making it obvious how much, and by the way Lily rocks her hips carefully against the front of his body, she knows it too. He takes in her figure, lips swollen from the precious minutes they spent kissing each other, face pinkened with the heat of their movements, and then her dress, strapless on one side to reveal her breast, so tantalizing.

And still…

‘Are you sure?’

‘We don’t —’ she pauses, a flush heavier than before arising in her cheeks. ‘We can just —’

‘We’ll see,’ he agrees, his mouth covering hers while his hand helps her put the dress strap back in place.

Then she holds his hand and follows him upstairs, pausing only to take down her heels so she can walk quietly. The door of his dorm room opens without any sound; the entire room is silent, all curtains down in the beds, and James was never more grateful for this fact.

He guides Lily to his bed, careful to push the curtains around them, letting only a tiny gap for the moonlight to illuminate the bed; it’s not a full moon but it’s more than enough for him to see Lily’s face and that’s all he wants. She looks both defiant and nervous.

She lays in the bed, her gorgeous hair now out of the braid she had used for the party, all curls spreading out over his pillow. It’s a gorgeous sight and he lays on top of her, careful to sustain his weight on his arms as he bends down to kiss her again. Her hands work expertly in his shirt, finishing to open the buttons there, her nails sinking into his back. He muffles his moan into her mouth.

Now his hands can work into both of the straps of her dress, sliding them out of their arms so she is laying in the bed naked from above the waist; he feels her breasts touching his chest and this notion (Lily is his bed half-naked) sends a wave of pleasure and desire down his body, inhumanly stronger than before. He breaks their kiss desperate to feel again the taste of her skin, to let his tongue glide against her nipple, to hear the pure purr in her throat.

‘Lily,’ he moans, and she stops him, so close to her breast, that it’s almost painful.

‘Shhh,’ she remembers, a finger over his lips in warning; he answers by kissing her finger, then her wrist, raising her hand above her head. She offers him her other arm, allowing him to trap them together as he moves his free hand over her chest. Her heart is beating so fast that he can see the vein of her neck pulsing. ‘Please,’ she mouths.

He complies at once, lips covering her breast, enjoying how she arches her back as if she needs to be even more close to him. That’s a feeling he certainly shares, moving his body just enough to centre with hers, a soft groan escaping from his mouth as her hips move to match his movement.

And then he needs to stop kissing her at all, biting his lips with enough force to draw blood, because Lily’s hand are working now over his pant, one hand opening the belt and the other feeling the length of him, the one undeniable evidence of how much he wants her —

‘James?’

Sirius’ voice breaks the silence of the room, sounding louder than a bell, a call to reality in a dream James really doesn’t want to wake from at the moment.

Lily’s hands stop suddenly, still around him, her eyes open widely as they stare at each other, both wishing that Sirius was just dreaming (and James won’t even tease Padfoot for calling his name in his sleep).

‘I know you are there,’ Sirius says, voice dangerously close. ‘I heard you coming.’

No, you didn’t, James thinks.

‘Is everything okay? You came back early.’

James forces his voice out. ‘Everything’s fine, Padfoot, go back to sleep.’

‘Are you sure? Is everything all right between you and Lily?’

In another moment James would appreciate Sirius’ concern for his relationship — that he roots for more than anyone else, he knows. But now, as her hands leave his body to redress herself, embarrassment all over her face, James feels only flustered.

‘Yeah, yeah. Just let me rest.’

There is a pause. ‘Fine,’ Sirius says, evidently upset, walking back to his bed. ‘Forget that I asked.’

Now James sighs guiltily, and Lily throws him a sympathetic look. James moves, coming to rest at her side, their moment painfully broken.

‘Sorry,’ he whispers, as low as he can.

She turns to him, her hand supporting her head. ‘It’s fine. We shouldn’t really…’

He refrains from sighing unhappily. He knows Lily is right. They’ve been only dating for two weeks after all, and there is no rush for anything. They can enjoy just each other’s company, taking this slow — Merlin, he’s so stupid for not being able to control his feelings — no, his lust, so unchivalrous —

‘I mean, your friends are there,’ she adds, oblivious to his thoughts. ‘In the holidays we can find a room just for us.’

He blinks, eyes widening, heart racing desperate in his chest.

‘So you mean —’

‘Only if you want.’

In answer, he looks down, to the place where his body still makes evident how much he wants her. She lets out a giggle, that he muffles kissing her longly.

‘Holidays,’ he agrees later, breaking apart with difficulty. She watches him with fondess before sighing.

‘I should go.’

‘No, stay, please.’ He offers her his arms, which Lily accepts with a soft smile, sinking into his embrace. He caresses her back. ‘Very innocent.’

‘Hmmm. Just a while. Until Sirius sleeps.’

He agrees with his head, placing a kiss on her forehead.

‘I think he’s already sleeping, Lily,’ comes a voice from the other bed.

‘Yeah, he sleeps quick,’ adds Peter.

This time James doesn’t bother muffling Lily’s nervous giggle, joining her. Holidays, he thinks. A room just for the two of them. No noisy friends.

[witcher-and-his-bard-archive]

Someone Else (I'm Still Right Here)

also on ao3

minor warning for Geralt coming on to Jask when he doesn't know who he is, but nothing comes from it. 

 They've hardly been in town long enough for anything to go wrong and yet, Jaskier finds his thoughts interrupted by banging on the door of their room. If it was Geralt, he would simply let himself in even if he didn't have his hands free to open the door properly, so it must be important. Jaskier rises from the bed, setting his lute aside with a sigh. He detests being interrupted while he's working for anything less than an emergency - and judging by the fact that the knock hasn't come again, this is hardly an emergency.

He saunters to the door, pulling it open to find the face of the innkeeper's wife staring back at him anxiously.

"Sorry to interrupt," she says, "it's your Witcher, sir. Something's happened and no one is... well, they're all afraid to get too close to him. They called in the healer from the next town, but-"

Jaskier frowns. The contract was for a pair of drowners, not even a nest of the damn things. Geralt could have taken them out in his sleep - so what went so terribly wrong?

Jaskier lets himself be led downstairs, doing his best to mask worry with intrigue, but it isn't working. The innkeeper's wife leads him to the edge of the forest where her husband is waiting, a look of pained concern on his face. Jaskier's stomach drops as the man just points into the trees, and he hurries forward without delay. If the people in town won't help Geralt, he will certainly do his best.

When he finds him, Geralt is in a bad state. His eyes are still dark from the potions - probably why the locals wouldn't come near - and there's blood streaked down the side of his face.

Jaskier stays quiet. It's bad enough that Geralt can hear his pulse racing, he doesn't need to make his fear any more obvious to him. He kneels down on the soft ground, assessing the damage before moving him. He's learned from experience that one wrong move can make a wound worse rather than better.

"Okay," he says once he's satisfied. "I'm just gonna pull this off," he taps on Geralt's left pauldron, "make sure your head is the only thing you banged up." Jaskier frowns as he says it, but Geralt seems, as usual, unconcerned. He's much better behaved than usual though, which strikes Jaskier as being particularly odd.

He ignores it and pushes through, tearing an already ripped piece of Geralt's shirt to wipe away some of the blood. Geralt will be grouchy about it later, but if Jaskier replaces it, he can't be too angry. He does his best to clean Geralt's skin and he finds just the one injury - a hefty blow to the head. Not that it seems to be bothering Geralt any.

But when Jaskier cups his jaw, tipping his head to one side, Geralt hums. It catches him off guard and Jaskier jerks back to look at him.

"Your hands feel nice," Geralt breathes and leans into the touch. Okay. So maybe the head injury is more serious than it appears. The innkeeper's wife said a healer was coming, Jaskier will mention it to them when they arrive. Or maybe it's just the blood loss. Either way, the healer will be better prepared to deal with it than he is.

"What are you doing here?" Geralt asks.

"The innkeeper's wife came to collect me. Figured someone ought to come and collect you."

"No one else would even get near me."

"Yes, well, I'm not everyone else, am I?"

"Hmm. Guess not."

Jaskier comes around to look at him, straddling his thighs and Geralt leans forward, resting his head on his shoulder and nuzzling into his neck.

"Yes yes," Jaskier hums, "I know you're tired, darling, but we have to get you up and back to town."

Geralt is reluctant, but he lets himself be hauled to his feet and doesn't even complain about Jaskier propping him up as they make their way back toward town. He's quiet, which is to be expected, but Jaskier is worried that he's keeping something from him, that he's worse off than he seems because Geralt seems quite happy to let himself be assisted - something he would regularly fight against.

As they make it back to the inn, Jaskier knows everyone is watching them and he scolds a couple of them for not offering to help when a man was injured. He takes Geralt up to their room and ducks out from under his arm, leaving him alone for a moment so he can get the fire lit and ready the bed for him. But before he can do either, he finds himself pressed up against the room door with Geralt's face mere inches from his own.

The dark veins and darker eyes are… sexier than they have any right to be and Jaskier swallows back a groan, pressing a gentle hand to Geralt's chest. The Witcher is still woozy and unsteady on his feet, but he resists being pressed back and Jaskier frowns at him.

"Mm, as much fun as this is, I doubt you'll think so highly of me in the morning, darling." Geralt smiles slyly and, for a split second, Jaskier worries that he's become Geralt's quarry, that the toxins running through Geralt's body are really as bad as he always claims they are and that he is, in fact, in real danger around him. But then Geralt leans in, bumping his nose against Jaskier's and any thoughts of fear dissipate immediately.

Instead, Jaskier ducks down and away, holding both arms out as Geralt follows him.

"Geralt," he asks, "what's gotten into you? Not that I mind, but-" he eyes him carefully and Geralt just grins at him again.

"Don't be coy with me, bard, this is what you brought me here for."

"Um. No? I brought you here to rest, to put you to bed not take you to bed, and find you something to eat. This is our room, Geralt, not my room. They only had one left and I didn't think you'd mind-"

"Our room?" Geralt interrupts and Jaskier nods. Worry creeps in and he looks closely at Geralt. His eyes are black still, though the veins are retreating and he seems brighter than usual, not so gloomy.

"Yes?"

"Why would we be sharing a room," Geralt huffs, "I've only just met you."

Jaskier gawks at him. It's not like Geralt to play games, that's Lambert's area of expertise - and this is stupid and obvious even for Lambert's tastes. But something is off about Geralt tonight. The worry turns to fear and Jaskier suddenly wonders if the man he's brought back is his Witcher at all.

He's never met a doppler, but he's heard Geralt tell stories about them. For the most part, they're harmless, but Jaskier suspects they can be paid or bribed like anyone else and the thought of a stranger here in the room with his things, with Geralt's things-

"I thought you wanted sex," maybe-Gealt says again, slightly confused but not at all dissuaded. Normally Jaskier would take it as a compliment that he was still so enthusiastic about fucking him, but this feels very, very wrong. And yet a part of him still considers it.

If it is a doppler, there's no harm really. He's consenting and Jaskier is more than happy to fuck a man with Geralt's face (he doesn't think too much about how that will affect him after it's fine). Right? But there's still a nagging feeling that this isn't a doppler. He'd know, he thinks, if he brought someone else home with him.

"Can you just-" he says, backing up toward the bed where his bag is sitting on the floor. Maybe-Geralt just watches him with confusion as he crouches down and pulls his dagger from his pack.

It's just a little thing, but it's pure silver, gifted to him by Geralt in case of emergency.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Jaskier says, holding it out, "I just need you to touch this."

Maybe-Geralt gives him a questioning look but reaches out and takes the dagger from him, turning it over in his hand. Nothing happens.

"Hmm," he says, "nice weight, well made. A little decorative maybe-"

"Doesn't hurt?" Jaskier asks and maybe-Geralt, who is seeming more and more like just Geralt laughs.

"Not unless you stab someone with it."

Jaskier valiantly ignores the little smirk and shuts his eyes.

"Okay," he says, "start at the beginning, what do you remember?"

"I… woke up in the forest and then you showed up," he smiles at him and Jaskier is already preparing a refusal.

"Listen, Geralt, I am your friend and you would probably even argue that-"

"How come? You're very handsome and you've been helpful and kind-"

"But it's not like that, Geralt. It never has been. I offered once and you were… less than impressed with me." Geralt says nothing and Jaskier takes the opportunity to reign the conversation in. "Can I clean you up now? Something is obviously wrong and we have to get you to a doctor."

"They said a healer was coming."

"I was thinking of someone a little more professional," Jaskier says and Geralt gives him a look. "We have a mutual friend who may be able to help. But for now, you've got me and I'd like to take a look at that wound."

Geralt relents and Jaskier finally succeeds in getting him sat on the bed without Geralt trying to come on to him again. He pulls Geralt's hair back and ties it out of his face, it'll need to be washed later, but he's not going to try and explain how it's fine for him to wash his hair but not fuck him right now.

The wound itself it's so bad, a bit swollen, a bit bruised, but the actual gash is small and very manageable. He cleans it first with water and then with vodka and applies a good amount of salve. He doesn't know which herbs Geralt combines for a poultice, so he bypasses that for the time being; when he gets him to Shani if the wound isn't healed on its own, she'll be able to tend to it.

He finds linen wrap at the bottom of his bag and presses it to Geralt's forehead, gently wrapping it around and tying it at his temple.

"Should be good for now. I'll go down and have supper brought up. Do you want a bath?"

"No. Thank you."

"Alright. Just… stay here, I'll be back."

As soon as the bedroom door is shut, Jaskier closes his eyes, but he waits until he reaches the main floor to lean against the wall and sigh. He has no idea what he's going to do. He never thought he'd be sad to see the day Geralt tried to get him into bed, but it feels so wrong. He'd rather spend the rest of his life failing to impress Geralt than spend another five minutes with him like this.

He takes his time ordering food, half-hoping that Geralt will be asleep by the time he gets back to the room, but their supper is ready quickly and Jaskier reluctantly takes it back up to their room, setting the tray on the table beside the bed.

Geralt at least spares him conversation while they eat and then Jaskier sets the dishes aside and strips out of his clothes for bed, already dreading having to share a bed. He keeps his shorts on and waits until Geralt is already in bed before climbing in after him.

The fire is burning low already, so he's not worried about it, but he blows out the candle beside the bed and pulls the blankets up over himself. He faces out into the room, preferring not to see Geralt right now. It feels weird to want to avoid him and it makes his chest ache because this is Geralt, but it's not. He just wants his Geralt back.

He shuts his eyes and tries to sleep but Geralt is cuddly like this, shifting closer and pressing up against him. He gets an arm around Jaskier's waist and Jaskier squeezes his eyes shut. It's everything he thinks about during the long nights sleeping around a campfire, but he can't let himself give into it. But it feels good because it's Geralt's arm around him, Geralt's chest pressed to his back, Geralt's breath against his neck. He very nearly whines because it's so damn unfair.

But then Geralt's lips press against the back of his neck and a little gasp escapes his lips, unintentionally. He ignores it the first time, but then he does it again and when he shifts closer, Jaskier can feel the length of his cock pressing against his ass. And fuck, that's hard to turn down, but Jaskier wrenches himself out of Geralt's arms.

"I can't," he whispers, unconvincing even to himself.

"You want it, though," Geralt hums, "I can smell it on you."

"Maybe," Jaskier confesses, "but not like this. Not when you don't know who I am. Not when fucking any other person in this place would be the same for you. I can't, Geralt. Go to sleep."

Jaskier hates how disappointed Geralt sounds when he pulls away, but he doesn't try again and Jaskier almost finds himself wishing he would. He tugs the blanket a little tighter around himself and pulls his knees to his chest, trying to force back the fear that he might not get his Geralt back.

In the morning, Geralt wakes first and Jaskier is relieved to find himself alone in bed, although he worries about where Geralt has gotten to. But when he drags himself out of bed, he finds Geralt packed and ready to go with a hearty breakfast waiting for him.

"What's all this?" Jaskier asks, "trying to get away from me all of a sudden?" It comes out more bitter than he intends and he winces at the tone of his own voice.

"You were so sad, last night," Geralt says quietly. "I don't know how to fix this, how to remember you, but I thought you'd want to get started early. I had breakfast brought up." He offers a soft smile, gesturing to the food and Jaskier's heart flip-flops.

"Oh. Thank you."

"I've eaten. Take your time and we can leave when you're finished."

"Right."

Geralt just sits on the bed while Jaskier eats his breakfast and contemplates the fact that this is still his Geralt, as much as it doesn't seem like it. His own things are still ready to go and he has no idea who to go to to collect the reward for the drowners, but it couldn't have been much anyway, so he's not worried about it. Geralt won't be pleased about it when he remembers himself, but there's only so much Jaskier knows how to handle and he wants to get Geralt to Shani as quickly as possible.

They head out mid-morning, and Geralt insists on letting Jaskier ride, which is… nice, in a concerning way. Roach is equally confused and concerned, but Jaskier does his best to comfort her. Thankfully, they aren't far from Oxenfurt or Jaskier isn't sure how he would cope.

Geralt walks alongside him, happy enough apparently to let Jaskier ride. He hums as they travel, a low wonderful sound that had Jaskier's heart fluttering, but it tears him in two because the song is his which means Geralt does remember something, but he's also so sad to see him this calm and relaxed knowing his goal is to take that away from him.

For now, he won't say anything, will just let Geralt enjoy the journey. When and if they find a way to get his memory back, he'll explain everything and give Geralt the chance to decline if he wishes. The selfish part of him hopes he doesn't.

They carry on in much the same way, but even when Geralt talks, Jaskier struggles to find it in himself to be too enthusiastic about anything. He's already in a difficult spot and he just wants to get through this, whatever the outcome. But it's obvious Geralt notices and that he's trying to distract him from it.

Jaskier tries to cheer up a little, if only for him, but he finds it difficult because he knows Geralt can tell how he's really feeling. But Jaskier appreciates the effort, either way.

"Remind me where we're going?" Geralt asks and Jaskier realizes he hasn't told him, Geralt just trusted him not to be leading him towards certain death.

"To Oxenfurt," he says, trying to sound cheerful, "it's one of my favourite places on the continent. I have a friend who practices medicine, she should be able to help."

"You don't have to pretend for me. I know you're sad, I know you miss him. Me. I wish I could give you your friend back."

Jaskier's heart clenches and he takes a steadying breath. "I'm fine," he says, "and I can't miss him, he's you and you're right here." He feels odd, like he's talking to a child, but Geralt just smiles at him, softly but like he doesn't believe him. Jaskier wouldn't either, he's never been good at lying to Geralt.

There's a heavy silence that falls after that and for some time they continue forward unspeaking. Jaskier twitches to feel the silence, to sing or talk to something just to keep from thinking that Geralt is upset with him. Then, abruptly, Geralt speaks.

"What kind of man am I?" Jaskier doesn't even have to think to answer that.

"You're kind," he says, "more than anyone gives you credit for. You always try to take the less violent route, even though your job is to kill monsters. You're generous and loving and you care so deeply for your friends and family."

He pauses for a moment, swallowing a lump in his throat. Because he's not included in that group. He knows Geralt must care for him, but not in the way he loves Eskel or Lambert, or even in the way his friendship with Shani or Zoltan comes so easily to him. Next to him, Geralt is silent for a moment and then.

"Jaskier are you-" Jaskier shuts his eyes, dreading whatever is coming next. "Do you love me?"

"Of course I do," he says, forcing cheeriness into his voice, "You're my best friend."

"But it's more than that, isn't it?"

"Geralt-"

"I know I don't really know you, but I… think I love you, too."

"Geralt, don't say that," Jaskier shuts his eyes tightly, "you can't know that."

"I feel it."

Jaskier wants to scream. It's so unfair to hear those words from Geralt's mouth and know they’re not true. He pushes Roach a little quicker forward, but Geralt stops him.

Roach comes to a full stop and Jaskier grows frowns at Geralt as he comes to stand next to him. Geralt raised a hand up, cupping his jaw and guiding him downward.

"I feel like you won't hear it from me again, so I love you." He's soft, almost breathless, and when he stretches up to kiss him, Jaskier doesn't stop him.

It's just soft, no urgency, no want for something more than just a kiss and Jaskier can't help but lean into it just a little. Because those are Geralt's hands on him, Geralt's mouth against his own, soft and slow.

But Geralt moans softly against him and Jaskier remembers himself with a start. He pulls back from the Witcher, almost unseating himself, but Geralt steadies him.

"I'm sorry," he breathes, "I can't, it's not fair-"

"To me?" Geralt asks and there's sadness behind the humour in his voice.

"Yes."

After that, they spend the rest of the day in silence and Jaskier feels bad for Geralt - he can't imagine losing his memory and not knowing who he is - but he can't stand the fruitless hope. Because Geralt doesn't love him, he's made it known that they're not friends and how could Jaskier hope for more when he can't even attain friendship?

Then again, the man walking next to him now still is Geralt. He doesn't feel like Geralt and he doesn't act like Geralt, but he is. Jaskier isn't sure how people usually react when they lose their memories, so he doesn't have a basis to judge by, but it is still Geralt.

When they stop for the night, Geralt sleeps close enough to keep him warm but doesn't cuddle up like he did the night before and Jaskier hates himself for it. Maybe Geralt has a chance here at a new life, one where he can be happy and not weighed down by the memory of his childhood. And if he does, if he wants it, who is Jaskier to deny him that?

He's not sure he could be a part of it, though. Even thinking about him now, wishing Geralt would come a little closer, curl an arm around his middle, he feels like he's betraying his friend, betraying the old Geralt as the case may be.

Either way, he'll get Geralt to Oxenfurt so they can speak to Shani and see if there's anything that can be done. If there's not, he doesn't have to worry about making the decision to leave or stay, but if there is- If there is a chance Geralt can regain his memories, Jaskier has to let him make that choice alone and then make his own depending on what Geralt wants.

They reach Oxenfurt a few days later after what feels like a month-long journey and Jaskier is just glad to be somewhere warm where he can have his own room and not have to worry about wanting to be close. He leads them immediately to the inn and rents two separate rooms. It's fairly costly and he's reminded of the reason they needed to take the last contract, but he could be in Oxenfurt for a while depending on how this goes and he'll be able to pick up work easily enough.

Jaskier heads up to his room and makes sure Geralt gets settled, then he heads down and orders food and a bath up to Geralt's room before heading out to find Shani.

The first place he looks is the hospital, but the nurse working informs him that Shani has her own clinic now and she's located near the centre of town. Jaskier thanks her and doubles back, following the directions she'd given. Shani's clinic is tucked between two other buildings and Jaskier knocks before entering. There's no one inside but it's only a moment before Shani emerges from a back room, the neutral look on her face quickly growing into a smile. When Jaskier doesn't return the gesture she frowns.

"I take it this isn't a personal visit," she says and Jaskier can feel something inside him slip. He shakes his head.

"No, I'm sorry. I- we need your help."

"Geralt?" she asks and the last bit of his self-control gives way and he chokes on a sob. "Hey," she says, "come sit down."

Shani guides him to a back room and sits him down on a plush soft, surprisingly nice for a medical clinic. She shuts and locks the door behind them and sits next to him.

"What's wrong?"

"It's Geralt," he chokes, "hes'-" he takes a deep breath, swallowing back another sob. "Shani, he doesn't know who he is. He doesn't know who I am."

"Oh. What happened?"

"I wasn't there. I just- they came to get me because no one else would get near him. It was just supposed to be a drowner contract but he got hit in the head or something. I don't know what to do."

"Where is he now?"

"Back at the inn."

"Here?" she asks. Jaskier nods. "Why don't you take me to him, I'll take a look."

"I- I don't know if he'll want to be fixed? He came with me but Shani, he seems happy."

"Why don't we go and see him first. We'll figure out what's wrong before worrying too much, hm?" Jaskier agrees and Shani packs a bag and they head for the inn.

They find Geralt in his room, having eaten and bathed and he looks good. He's got his hair down around his shoulders and he's shirtless and Jaskier has to avert his eyes. He takes a seat in the corner and lets Shani introduce herself and asks to look him over. Jaskier stays quiet and watches cautiously as Geralt easily lets Shani look him over. Once she's finished with his body, she examines his head.

"Well," she says at last, "you obviously took a pretty hefty blow to your head, but the good news is it should be simple to reverse the memory loss."

"Good," Geralt says quickly. He spares a glance for Jaskier before turning back to Shani. "What do we have to do?"

"It's simple really, just a shock to your system should do it. I have a friend who can help."

As Shani goes into the details, Jaskier tunes out. He hears something about neurons, but he's more concerned about getting Geralt alone for a couple of minutes before he makes a decision. He loves Geralt, wants nothing more than for him to be happy, so he wants him to go into this knowing everything Jaskier can tell him.

"Can we have a moment Shani?" he asks and Geralt looks at him as Shani nods and ducks out of the room.

"You want to do it?" Jaskier asks and Geralt nods.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"You're happier like this," Jaskier whispers, "Geralt, I've never seen you this relaxed. In twenty years, you've always been miserable. I just- I want you to make an informed decision."

"You say you want me to be happy," Geralt says, "but since I told you I didn't know who you were you've been so sad. How is it fair for me to be happy like you say when you're still suffering." He tips Jaskier's chin up with two fingers and looks into his eyes. "What I said before, I wasn't lying. I don't know where all these feelings are coming from but I know you are so important to me."

He pulls up a smile and Jaskier knows how this is going to end. And he'll be happy to have his Geralt back, but know him like this? To know this Geralt wants him, even in some weird, imaginary way? He doesn't know how he'll be able to continue.

"Okay," Jaskier relents. "I just… wanted you to know what you were getting into."

"I'm sure it can't be all bad. I have you."

Jaskier's heart clenches, but he doesn't get another chance to speak because Shani enters the room. Thankfully, Geralt has stopped touching him, but he's still close and she gives Jaskier a look.

"I put out a call to my friend," she says, holding up a box that looks vaguely familiar. "Xenovox," she explains, "Marilla is a mage. She should be here in the morning."

It's late afternoon now, so that means spending another night at the inn and Jaskier is torn. On the one hand, he wants Geralt to be back to normal, but on the other- he's selfish and he wants Geralt like this. He wants so badly to have anything and- no. No, he can't.

Shani leaves them shortly after assuring Jaskier that it will be alright, that Geralt will be fine. He wishes these were better circumstances, that they had come to visit Shani instead of asking for her help, but she waves him off with a smile.

"Come and visit when things are back to normal," she says, "I'll see you in the morning."

Jaskier sees her off and then returns to the room to find Geralt sitting on the edge of the bed, contemplating. He's still shirtless and Jaskier finds it hard to look at him directly. He sits in the bed next to him, hands folded in his lap.

"Well," Geralt says, "we have the night. Things will be different after I get my memory back, right?" He turns, reaching out to cup Jaskier's cheek. "Be with me tonight," he breathes, "just for tonight, let me take care of you while I have the chance."

Jaskier huffs a humourless laugh. "That's the problem, you always have the chance, but you never want to take it."

"Then let me now," he hums and his hand falls to Jaskier's thigh.

And it's so tempting. Because Geralt is right here offering everything he's ever wanted, if only for a night. But this is not the Geralt he fell in love with. This is not truly his Geralt's consent. When Jaskier looks up, it's obvious that Geralt knows his answer before he even speaks.

"I'm an idiot," he says softly, "to not jump at the chance to be with you. If I don't remember tomorrow, I want you to know you're important to me." Jaskier nods weakly, but he can't find the words. "Maybe we should turn in early? We have a long day tomorrow, I think."

Jaskier nods and he lets Geralt pull him down to the bed and tonight, he lets himself be held, curls into Geralt's hold and presses his nose into his neck. He doesn't let himself think, just buries himself in Geralt's scent, so warm and familiar and shuts off his mind.

Jaskier awakes to a knock on the door and realizes he's still in his clothes from yesterday. Geralt answers the door to Shani and Marilla, and Jaskier is only just climbing out of bed when they come into the room. He gets a look from Shani, but if she's feeling any particular kind of way about finding him in Geralt's bed, she doesn't say anything.

The actual process doesn't take any time at all. Marilla comes in and does something to Geralt, what she does is unclear but he falls unconscious and Jaskier panics at first, but Shani holds him back.

"Sorry," she says, "I should have warned you."

Jaskier does his best to make Geralt comfortable in the bed and he leaves with the two women to let him sleep. He thanks Marilla desperately and asks her to stay until he wakes, but she tells him she has other business to attend to and after dipping down to kiss Shani briefly, she disappears down the stairs.

"Friend, huh?" Jaskier asks and Shani smiles at him.

"Don't try to change the subject."

"Actually, can I ask you about something?"

"Of course. Why don't we get a drink, he could be out for a couple of hours."

They head down to the common area and Shani orders them a pair of drinks while Jaskier finds a table out of the way. He's never understood why Geralt likes corner tables, but right now he gets it. He doesn't want anyone to talk to him and he just wants to be able to sit and drink with Shani.

When she returns, she slides his drink across to him and slips into her seat.

"What did you want to ask about?"

"Uh," Jaskier starts, turning his mug in his hands, "when I first took Geralt back to our room, just after he was hurt. He tried to kiss me. He… thought I was bringing him back there to fuck him."

"Oh."

"You don't sound surprised."

"I'm not, really. I'm surprised he acted on it, but-"

"What does that mean?"

"Geralt doesn't have any brain damage," Shani explains, "something just… got knocked loose, so to speak. He was still him, Jaskier. His thoughts, his feelings? That was all him, Jask."

"You're telling me-" abruptly, the memory of Geralt telling him he loved him comes back to him and his mouth goes dry. "You're telling me that was just him?"

"Mmhm. Without all the baggage and self-loathing."

"I don't- he can't- if he wanted me that way, I would know."

"Would you?" Shani asks, "because I think you would be the last person to know. Wait till he wakes up, talk to him."

"Yeah, I know. Thanks, Shani, for this and for everything."

"Happy to help."

They finish their drinks and Shani heads home. Jaskier thanks her again and promises to visit when things are better and waits until she's gone before heading back up to Geralt's room.

The first thing Geralt knows when he wakes up, is a pain in his head. He blinks awake to find himself in a bed in a nondescript inn. A better look around finds Jaskier asleep in a chair next to him, but he stirs as Geralt sits up and then he's scrambling to pass Geralt a mug of water.

He feels woozy, but Jaskier's presence soothes him; he knows from experience that Jaskier would never let anything happen to him and is willing to risk his own health and safety to assure it. There's no one else he'd rather see upon waking. But he doesn't remember falling asleep. The last thing he remembers is taking a hit and stumbling away from the scene.

"Geralt?" Jaskier asks gently. He looks up and the first thing he notices when he looks at Jaskier is how sad he is. The emotion wafts off of him, but Geralt doesn't need his heightened sense of smell to be able to tell.

"What's wrong?" he mumbles, his voice thick.

"Tell me what you remember. From the start."

Geralt thinks back, going through the events of the hunt, none of which are very interesting until he was thrown into a tree. Water hag, he remembers, chucked mud and blinded him. Then he's stumbling away, all three monsters dead and then- fuck.

His gaze snaps up to Jaskier's face, looking for any sign of recognition, but he remains eerily calm, even as Geralt recollects kissing him, pressing him up against a wall and- fuck, what was he thinking? The more he thinks about it, the more comes back to him, but in bits and pieces.

Kissing him, touching him, pressing up against him in bed. The memories are all foggy, scattered, but they feel too real to have been a dream. But Jaskier shows no signs of being assaulted by him.

"I'm-" he starts, but sorry doesn't feel like it's enough. Jaskier is open with his affections, but he wouldn't be okay with that.

Geralt tries to push himself up, to get out of bed and away from Jaskier because he can't stand the thought of doing something like that. He can't remember why he did, but the more he thinks about it, the more real it feels.

"Geralt," Jaskier says firmly, "I'm not mad. But I think we need to talk if you're up for it."

He doesn't want to talk to Jaskier. He would rather find out from someone else, he can't bear to hear the words from Jaskier. And he knows Shani was there. Shani and another woman who he didn't recognize.

"Where's Shani?" he asks.

"She's gone home, darling. Are you hungry? Can I get you anything?"

Geralt looks up at him and he feels hopeless. Jaskier is exhausted, he can see the bags under his eyes, the dark circles. And he doesn't seem any less sad than he did initially. It doesn't take much to realize what happened.

"I'm sorry," Geralt mumbles, "about what I did- when I kissed you, I-"

Jaskier stops, already halfway toward the door and sighs deeply, stopping in his tracks before turning around.

"Okay," he says, "we're talking about this now, then." He comes back and seats himself on the end of the bed, facing him. "Tell me exactly what you remember, Geralt."

"I remember taking the contract, fighting off the drowners - and a water hag - got mud in my eyes, stumbled and something hit me, threw me into a tree. Probably one of the drowners pushed me. I took them out, started back toward town but I must have passed out, the next thing I remember is-"

"Me."

"Yeah. You took me back to our room, I thought you were- I thought you wanted sex."

"I know, you were fairly adamant about that."

"Fuck. Jaskier I'm sorry-"

"You didn't know who I was. If a handsome stranger took me back to his room, I'd think the same. When you didn't know who I was I was… terrified. I didn't know if I'd get you back." They're both silent for a moment and then Jaskier prompts him to continue.

"I remember that. I remember talking to you," he lowers his eyes, "I told you I loved you, I don't know why." Immediately Jaskier's sadness intensifies and he catches it in the twitch of his lip, the way he glances away.

"You asked if I was in love with you," Jaskier explains, "and told me you loved me. What else do you remember?"

"I remember asking you to- suggesting we- I propositioned you. And I remember being in bed- Jaskier, did we-?" He can't imagine anything worse than sleeping with Jaskier while he's not himself, than having the chance to be with him and not truly being present in the moment.

Because he certainly won't have another chance, especially not now that he's gone and muddled things up.

"No," Jaskier confirms and for the first time a small smile tugs at his lips, "not that you didn't try. But It didn't feel right. I knew when you had your memories back, you'd hate me for it and I couldn't-"

"I could never hate you," Geralt interrupts, "if anything I'd hate myself for pushing you into it."

"No," Jaskier says, shaking his head, "Geralt you don't understand. I wanted to. I wanted so badly to just say yes last night when you asked me. I tried to work it around in some way that you wouldn't hate me for taking advantage, but every time I just feel terrible to even think about it. The reason I didn't sleep with you is because I couldn't bear the thought of fucking you when it wasn't really you. Because I didn't want him, even if he was you. I wanted- I want this you."

"You do," Geralt snorts, "someone who throws himself at his friend because he doesn't remember, someone who tells him he loves him unprompted-"

"Do you think," Jaskier suggests, and it's clear by the look on his face that he's considering his words very carefully. "That maybe what you said to me and what you did- what you offered," he corrects quickly, "was because you do have feelings for me?" His voice shakes just faintly and Geralt can smell the anxiousness coming off of him.

It's cloying, overwhelming and it mingles with the scent of sadness and fear and just the faintest hint of something hopeful.

"It's just that Shani said there was nothing wrong with your mind, it was still you in there when you asked, when you said that." Jaskier looks up at him and Geralt feels years of emotion welling up inside him and he doesn't know how to hold it back any longer, not what Jaskier is asking him outright.

"Jaskier, I-" he takes a deep breath, focuses on a mark on the blanket between them. "I don't remember everything. But I did mean what I said. I do… I love you," he whispers, "I didn't want you to think less of me or," he glances up and Jaskier's eyes are shiny like he's trying not to cry. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean for you to find out like this."

"I'm not sad," Jaskier says, "Geralt, I have been following you around for half my life, caring for you, singing about you and you didn't think for maybe a moment that I could love you back?"

"You-" Geralt stumbles over his words as Jaskier's confession sinks in. "You sleep with everyone. Everyone but-"

"You don't even call me friend, Geralt. Why would I try and take you to bed with me thinking you don't care enough to call me your friend?"

"Oh."

"Oh? You didn't consider that?"

"You're not my friend," Geralt says, by way of explanation, "but you're not a lover, either. You're not a brother. Not a comrade. I don't know what you are."

"Oh."

"But you could be… a lover?" the word feels strangely heavy in his mouth and he nearly regrets saying it at all until he sees the way Jaskier's eyes light up. A smile tugs at Geralt's lips and he leans forward, reaching out to take Jaskier's hand, tentatively turning it over.

"Jaskier," he whispers, "can I kiss you?" A wide grin spreads across his face and Jaskier tips forward toward him.

"Darling, I thought you'd never ask."

[mammonshuman92]

- It Takes Two -

(Mammon x GN!MC)

Genre: angst/hurt/comfort

WARNINGS: alcohol, drunkenness, cheating, **

** There is a moment where a character is drunk, and someone makes moves on them, character is too drunk to realize it’s not who they thought it was. Groping and making out, no penetration; character doesn’t consider is SA. I apologize if it is offensive.

Ya better hurry up, or we’re gonna be late!” Mammon was pulling you by the hand down the hallway to your first class of the day.

“I wasn’t the one who overslept because they kept saying “just lay with me for 5 more minutes.”“ You said, giving your best impression of him.

You’d become best friends rather quickly after your arrival in the Devildom, practically becoming attached at the hip instantly. It didn’t take long for that light, warm feeling to invade your heart. Now you’d been dating for a few months and had become even more inseparable.

“Details, details!” He responded, laughing.

The two of you came barreling through the door with only seconds to spare before the bell rang; hand-in-hand, laughing like fools.

You took your seats across the room from each other, being the professors current punishment for Mammon talking to you during class.

As you sat down you felt eyes on you and looked up.

A few succubi were not so casually looking at you and whispering.

It wasn’t uncommon though. I mean, you are a human in the Devildom. You also live with the 7 rulers of the underworld. You’d gotten quite used to people whispering about you. You decided to ignore them, and pay attention to class. Whatever they were whispering about was surely nothing you hadn’t already heard circulating throughout the gossip mill.

Throughout the day, you noticed the same group of succubi whispering and giving you looks. They even giggled a couple times. You tried your best to keep your cool, but it had been going on all day and it was really getting under your skin.

What is so damn funny? You thought to yourself.

The final bell rang and you couldn’t be happier. Now you got to put the day behind you and go home with Mammon. Tonight is movie night. Cuddling and eating junk food is just what you need after a day like today.

You rushed to the usual spot where you meet Mammon. Seeing his face would definitely make you feel better right now, but he wasn’t there yet. 

He must have gotten hung up in class or something.

You leaned against the wall, pulled out your D.D.D. and started surfing Deviltube to pass the time. You were so engrossed in your video that you barely noticed that same group of succubi walk past.

Until they made sure you noticed them, that is.

One girl bumped into you on purpose, sending your D.D.D. to the concrete, via crash-landing.

“Stupid human.” She sneered.

You rolled your eyes and bent down to pick up your D.D.D. It’s nothing you haven’t heard, quite a bit actually, since coming to the Devildom. She’d have to try a lot harder than that.

When you stood back up, the succubus in question was standing in front of you, arms crossed with a smug grin.

“Do you think you’re special?” She asked, looking you up and down. You didn’t respond and resumed your scrolling through Deviltube. Ignoring her made her mad.

“As soon as he gets tired of you, he’ll move on to the next one.”

Excuse me? 

“I don’t think MY relationship is any of your concern.” You said sweetly, slapping on your best fake smile. You looked around them, desperate to see Mammon walking up, but he wasn’t there.

Where is he? 

She was practically laughing in your face. 

“He made me feel special too.” Her words, full of venom as they left her lips, triggered something in your brain.

Flashbacks of your first day in the Devildom came rushing back. Specifically what Satan had said after Mammon made his grand entrance.

“Whenever he takes a liking to someone, they suddenly find themselves awash in money. But from what I hear, if he decides to break it off with someone, that wealth evaporates. They’re left without a Grimm to their name.”

The memory made your chest feel heavy. 

Could that pertain to people as well? They said a pure soul is like a shiny gem. What if..

“Everything he’s said to you, he probably already said to me.” She spat.

Your head was spinning, a knot forming in your throat. Her earlier words replaying in your mind.

“As soon as he gets tired of you, he’ll move on to the next one.”

What if..? No.. He wouldn’t do that...would he?

You quickly got so lost in thought as anxiety started to take root, plaguing you with ‘what ifs’ and hypotheticals, that you almost didn’t notice when someone stepped between you and the succubus. Putting a hand on either side of your face, he tilted your head up to look at him. Irises the color of tropical waters, instantly melt away your anxiety, calming the angry sea inside you.

“Let’s go home.” He whispered with a smile. His voice was soft, but you could see the anger in his eyes. He slung an arm around your shoulders and turned to start walking toward the House of Lamentation.

“We weren’t done talking.” She said vindictively.

“Don’t ya have anythin’ better to do?” Mammon snarled, glaring at the succubus.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes, leaving with her friends.

By the immense tension you could feel between them, you could tell that they had indeed been together at some point.

The walk home was quiet, which left you with ample time for your thoughts to run wild. 

Did she know him like you do? His little habits and his favorite things? 

Did she stick up for him when his brothers were dogging on him? Or afterward when he was down, did she try her best to drown out their hateful words with affirmations of love?

Did she play with his hair while he laid on her stomach, arms wrapped tight around her middle after he loved her? Hold her in his lap as he rubbed soothing circles on her back when she was sad? Whisper sweet nothings to her when he thought she was asleep?

...Did he love her?

-

“Whoa! Did ya see that, MC?!”

The two of you were curled up on the couch in Mammon’s room, watching a movie on his projector, just like you did every week.

Did they do movie night?

It shouldn’t be bothering you. Of course he’s had other partners. He’s been alive for thousands of years.

And you’ve had other partners. So what? No biggie. That wasn’t the issue.

The thought of him saying the same things, doing the same things with someone else...loving someone else, is what bothered you. It hurt to think that maybe you really weren’t that special; another weak, insignificant human, just like all the rest.

But the things she said kept playing on a loop in your head.

“As soon as he gets tired of you, he’ll move on to the next one.”

“He made me feel special too.”

Could she be right?

“Babe, are ya okay?” He had paused the movie and was now staring at you expectantly.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah I’m fine.” He saw through it quickly.

“Ya know, you’re not good at lyin’. What’s wrong? If ya don’t like the movie we can watch someth-”

“That girl earlier, at RAD? Is she your ex?” You didn’t want to bring it up, but you had to know before your thoughts could torment you further.

His face fell and he sighed heavily. “I was wonderin’ when you were gonna say somethin’..”

You remained quiet, watching his face, waiting for him to begin talking.

“We were together a long, long, time ago. Nothin’ serious. I broke it off when I realized she was only around for what she could get outta me. She didn’t take it too well.” He explained, his expression turning sour. “She had a different story, huh?”

“She didn’t say much really, except once you get tired of me you’ll move onto the next one. That I’m nothing special because everything you say to me you’ve probably said to her.” You said, keeping your eyes down as you fidget with the hem on your shirt.

He started laughing.

Your head snapped up, looking at him in shock.

“What’s so funny, Mammon?” You asked, getting a little irritated by his reaction. He stopped laughing when he looked at you and realized you were serious.

“Ya don’t actually believe her, do ya?” He scoffed, getting offended.

“No? I don’t know..” You replied, not meeting his gaze. Of course you wanted to believe him, but you already felt like you weren’t good enough for him, and that succubi’s words just watered the seeds of insecurity in your brain and helped them flourish.

You had always been the opposite of his brothers. You always believed Mammon, even when everyone else was against him. You were always on his side. Ready to stick up for him no matter what. To hear you now, was like a slap in the face.

Mammon’s face distorted in pain. And anger.

“What? Whaddya mean ya don’t know?” His voice was soft, “Ya don’t trust me?” He asked, meeting your gaze.

“Mammon, that’s-”

He shook his head. “No, I get it. A few bitter words from some random demon and now my words mean nothin’. “ He jumped up from the couch, making a beeline for the door.

“What about the last few months, huh? After all the time we spent together you think I’d do somethin’ like that to ya?” His voice cracked on the last sentence. He paused; hand on the knob as he stared at the door. You heard a small sniffle as his other hand came up to angrily wipe his face.

“I thought ya knew me better than anyone.” His voice was barely audible, but you could hear the hurt. He felt betrayed.

And with that he left, slamming the door behind him.

When he didn’t come back after an hour and wouldn’t answer your calls, you grabbed a few things and headed to your room. You still felt uneasy about the whole “his ex confronting you” thing and after what had just happened, you just wanted to be alone. 

Your bed seemed huge and your room felt odd. It’s not like you didn’t spend time in there anymore, you just didn’t usually do so alone. The silence was deafening.

I shouldn't have doubted him. He used to try and hide his feelings, although he was bad at it. But since we got together, he doesn’t hide how he feels about us to anyone.

You thought of all the times his cheeks had flushed scarlet when you caught him staring at you. How he sits and endures scary movies because they’re your favorite. The way he will randomly bring you your favorite snacks or other little gifts because he was thinking about you. Relentlessly tickling you just to hear your bright, uninhibited laughter. That even in his sleep, he has to be constantly touching some part of you, or he gets restless. 

You slowly drifted off to sleep, with tears staining your cheeks.

-

“Have you seen Mammon?” 

He never came looking for you last night and he wasn’t at breakfast. He even skipped RAD.

Asmo shook his head, “Not since yesterday. Did something happen?”

You decided to fill him in with all the details. He is the Avatar of Lust after all, so surely he could give you some advice regarding love.

He gasped dramatically, “No she didn’t! What a tart!”

“I know I shouldn’t have doubted him. He’s never given me a reason to, but I don’t know. She just got in my head, I guess. Poked at some insecurities.” You explained. “I haven’t seen him since he stormed off.”

“He won’t pout for long, he never does.”

“It’s more than just pouting. I hurt him just like everyone else. He feels betrayed.” You said, voice small.

You just wanted to pepper his face with kisses and profusely apologize for ever doubting him. Why did you ever let some random succubus get to you like that? To make your trust for Mammon falter, even slightly. Did you honestly believe he would toss you aside after he got what he could out of you? Really? 

Satan said it too though, in the beginning. That when you’re with him you find yourself drowning in gifts and the like, but once he outgrows you, you’re left with nothing. That’s the Greed.

You refuse to accept it though.

You know Mammon, better than anyone. He has changed so much since you came here. He’s not the same demon he used to be. He is more than just his sin.

“When he is ready, he’ll come back. He always does.” Asmo said, placing a hand on your shoulder, giving you a warm smile.

“Now, let’s go and change! You are depressing me and it’s ruining my skin. We are going out tonight!” He was practically vibrating with excitement. You, not so much.

“Ugh, no way Asmo. I’m not in a party mood.”

“Nonsense! It’s exactly what you need. We will have some drinks and dance and you’ll feel better. You’ll see.”

You relented, knowing that once Asmo got his mind set on something like this, there was no getting out of it. Maybe a few drinks really would make you feel better.

-

“Trouble in paradise?” She said, motioning to the drink in his hand.

His clothes were dishevelled, his hair mussed, eyes red-rimmed and puffy. He looked like he’d been through the wringer. Felt like it too. He’d been in the private lounge at the club for a little while now, nursing drink after drink, attempting to drown his sorrows.

“Go away.” He growled, turning his attention back to his drink.

“Is that anyway to greet an old friend?” She asked innocently.

“Nah, but it is a good way to greet a snake.”

“Ouch.” She put a hand over her heart, feigning hurt feelings.

“Haven’t ya caused enough problems? Leave me alone.”

She scoffed, plopping down onto the couch next to him.  “Oh, come on Mammon. You’re this hung up over a human?”

“Don’t talk about MC.” He snarled. In one big gulp, he swallowed the remainder of his drink. No matter what kind of situation the two of you were in, he wouldn’t let someone, anyone, say anything cross about you. At all.

“Oh, come on. You can’t seriously say you don’t miss being with me. A demon.” She leaned in close, her lips next to his ear, “Not nearly as fragile as a human. You can be as rough as you want..” She purred.

He jumped up from where he’d been sitting, attempting to get away from the succubus. “Get the fuc- Whoa.” He slurred, staggering slightly before quickly sitting back down, head lolling back to rest on the back of the couch. His vision was pretty blurry; the room spinning. He closed his eyes, hoping it’d help. 

Even in his deeply inebriated state, you were all that was on his mind. The feel of your hand running through his hair, lightly scratching at his scalp. The warmth of your body pressed against his, your lips; soft and delicate like rose petals, leaving small kisses across his face before finally meeting his lips. The bubbly sound of your laughter, beautiful like music. The way your eyes shine every time you see him, even if he only left your side for a tiny moment. 

After the fight you had and leaving the way he did, and now being away from you a whole day, not hearing your voice, feeling your touch, he was ready to go crazy. And although he did sneak back into the house after he was sure everyone was asleep, and slept in the backseat of his car so no one would find him, it wasn’t the same as sleeping next to you. He missed you.

But, it was more than that. He felt so incredibly stupid for reacting the way he had. If he were in your situation, and felt how you did, he would’ve had questions too. You love him, and all you wanted was a little reassurance that he in fact does love you. Man, does he love you. More than he’s ever loved anyone or anything.

With the attention span of a tuna sandwich, mixed with the levels of alcohol in his system, and being so deep in his thoughts of you, he hadn’t noticed the sudden shift of weight in his lap.

One hand found its way to the back of his head, fingers tangling in his hair. The other hand resting on his chest, slowly moving down his stomach, intently feeling every muscle. His mouth opened slightly, a breathy sigh escaping. He had missed you so much, your touch lighting his skin ablaze, craving you more and more.

Your hand moved lower, earnestly caressing his growing stiffness. Your lips crashed into his suddenly; hungrily, your tongue brushing his bottom lip. His hands moved up your thighs before firmly gripping your hips, grinding you against him.

Small alarm bells were going off in his head, something didn’t seem right. You didn’t giggle like you always do when he grabs your hips. Your kisses seemed sloppier than usual too.

He tried opening his eyes, blinking lazily several times. The room was still swirling around in his drunkenness, making it nearly impossible to focus.

Your hand moved to his pants, undoing the button and zipper. He removed a hand from your hip and grabbed your wrist, but didn’t attempt to move your hand from his swollen boxers. As he was about to break the kiss and suggest heading home and picking up with this make up where you left off, he heard a voice nearby.

“What the hell?!” They shrieked. 

Asmo?

“Mammon..?” You barely choked out.

That was your voice. He’d recognize it anywhere; the musical sound gently floating into his ears as it always did. But you sounded like you were crying..

And it didn’t come from the figure straddling his lap. How is that possible? He’s been making out with you, getting pretty heated actually, for the last several minutes.

He broke the kiss with you, confusedly turning to his left and blinking several times until his surroundings started to come into focus.

There you stood in the doorway of the private lounge with Asmo next to you, your eyes wide as s tears streamed down your cheeks, gaping at him in horror.

The alarm bells that had been going off, the red flags popping up trying to warn him that something wasn’t quite right, were about to become very clear.

- part two coming soon! -

[possiamo-andare]

Just You (3)

JJ x Reader x Rafe (love triangle)

MASTERLIST

word count: 5k

a/n: I can't believe it's been eight months since I updated this fic. y'all are probably dead by now and this will prolly get no notes lmao but I finally wrote the next chapter and it's so good in my opinion so please don't be too mad. enjoy!

~

Y/N needed complete silence when she was reading. If she didn’t, it was almost impossible for her to even read one page. As a child, in a room full of other screaming children, Y/N found it almost impossible to read. Most of her teachers misread this difficulty with an inability to read, which was not the case. This miscommunication actually worked in Y/N’s favour because the extra attention resulted in a greater love for reading. Y/N soon found herself reading everyday and even found it hard to put down a book. When she couldn’t get a physical copy of a book, she then went online and delved into a world where people created their own worlds and fantasies for their readers. Reading had become one of Y/N’s favourite hobbies and she could do it for hours.

Unfortunately, tonight was different. At around 6pm, just as Y/N picked up a book to read, loud music began to play from a distance. At first, Y/N tried to ignore it but soon, like mentioned before, the music began to get louder, and Y/N could not focus on the words before her. The more she tried to focus, the more distracted she became by the music. Soon, she could focus on nothing but the blaring music coming from across the street. Finally, after ten minutes of pure agony, Y/N got up from her bed and stormed down the stairs of her home. Her face is red with anger, and she desperately wants to know who the hell thinks playing loud music on a Tuesday night is acceptable. Unfortunately, she knows the answer the second she enters her kitchen.

Her parents are laughing with each other as they make their favourite snack. Every night, her parents make their favourite foods together as a way to unwind and talk about their day. Sometimes they shared it with Y/N and her siblings but on nights where her siblings were out with their friends and Y/N was the only one home, they usually just spent time with each other. Y/N hesitated for a moment and smiled to herself, thinking about how sweet her parents truly are. She wonders if the person she marries will have this type of relationship with her. She wonders, years from now, how she will look back on her time in OBX. She hopes she looks back with fondness. The moment is ruined though because her mother quickly looks up from the stove, a toothy grin on her face.

“Hello darling.” Y/N’s mother chirps. She reads her daughter's distraught face and since she can hear the music too, she knows why her daughter is upset. Without even letting Y/N speak, she answers the question clearly in her daughter's mind. “Ward Cameron’s son, Rafe, is throwing a party across the street. You can go if you want.”

Y/N snorts. “That boy has been rudely staring at me since we got here, and you think I should go to his house?”

This time, Y/N’s father turns around from the cabinet. “I hear JJ’s gonna be there.” There’s a small smirk on his face and it instantly grabs Y/N’s attention.

She tried to brush it off. “Well, I don’t really like loud music.”

Y/N’s mother scoffs. “Yes, you do.”

Y/N nods, tucking her hair behind her ears. She knows that if there’s even a hint of JJ being at the party, she wants to go. “You’re right, I do.”

Y/N had not been to a party in years. The last time she had it was in her first year of high school. She had just moved to that new school only weeks before and had made only a couple of friends. The friends she did make were nice and invited her to a party. The party was okay, and she enjoyed herself, but she was very awkward because she barely knew anyone. She promised that from now on, she would only go to parties where she knew more than one person. Now, she found herself breaking that rule just to see JJ.

Since Y/N was in her pajamas, she ran back up to her room to change. She didn’t want to waste too much time picking out clothes to wear so she quickly looked through her closet and found a white sundress with small blue flowers decorating the material. She had never worn this dress and, when she first bought it, was unsure if she liked it because it was shorter than what she was used to but now, she was glad she did.

She lay her sundress on her bed for a moment and turned to her mirror, where she kept a cabinet full of makeup. Before she even put on any makeup, she looked back up in the mirror for the second time. As she finally had a chance to breathe, she realized her breath was unsteady and her hands were shaking. It was hard for Y/N to put herself out there. Most times, she was afraid of the rejection, or even at the fact that the friends she did have would be gone. But she remembered her parents' words. She was to stay in OBX for the rest of the year. She would make friends here. She would have a life here. With a deep breath, Y/N began to get ready for the night.

~

Y/N keeps fidgeting with her hair. She knows the more she fidgets, the more upset she’ll be with how she looks but she seriously can’t help it. She only does this when she’s extremely nervous and she knows why. She’s two feet away from Rafe’s front door and the music has somehow gotten louder. It’s almost as if he’s continuously trying to play the music louder to get her attention. Of course, she knows that to not be true, but still, Y/N had realized that in the last twenty minutes since she had decided to get ready for the party and walked across the street, the music had indeed gotten louder. She rolled her eyes as she approached the door, the loud music getting annoying. At this rate, Rafe Cameron would be deaf by the time he was 30. Y/N pretended not to care if he went deaf at all, but a tiny voice inside her head told her that she had to care for him because no one else would.

With a deep breath, she knocks on the door. She doesn’t think anyone would hear it because of how loud the music is but it’s worth a try. She was raised to have manners and would not just enter someone’s house before knocking.

To her surprise, only a few moments later, the doorknob twisted quickly and someone on the other end of the door opened it. It was as if someone had been patiently waiting by the door all night, opening it in hopes that she would come. Of course, she knew this to not be true because the person who greeted her was none other than Rafe Cameron. And he found her annoying.

Y/N couldn’t help but admit how delicious he looked. He wasn’t dressed in his usual preppy attire, no. He wore these ripped, distressed black jeans and a fitted white shirt with a baseball cap to match. It wasn’t necessarily his style that had him looking so delightful but his face. He seemed very relaxed. In fact, this was the most relaxed she’d ever seen him. His usual straight posture was now more curled and casual. His face, which had always been pale and gray, was now filled with colour. He wore a cute blush across his cheeks and nose, and on top of the blush was a patch of light brown freckles here and there. Y/N figured he must’ve been in the sun all day. That and he was also high out of his mind.

“Y/N…” He trailed, his eyes glancing at her dress momentarily before returning to her face. Y/N feels a little self conscious under his gaze. She wasn’t exactly confident in her outfit tonight and he seemed, for the first time in forever, more confident than her. “You, um, you’re - you’re very…”

She involuntarily snickers, not realizing she’s doing it until Rafe hears it. His face changes into a dark frown and she has a deep need to apologize. He was probably just trying to be polite, and Y/N must’ve caught him just as his high was reaching its climax. “I’m what exactly?”

Rafe rolls his eyes, knowing that she’s teasing him. “You’re not invited.”

Well, she can’t say she exactly feels welcome right now, standing at the threshold of his door. He still hasn’t even let her in.

Y/N scoffs, her feelings only hurt a little. Although he didn’t look preppy, he looked just as douchy. “Well, your music’s so loud it could wake the dead. Maybe if you didn’t want uninvited people to come, don’t make it so obvious that you’re having a party.”

Rafe scoffs this time. “Aw, I’m sorry. Did I interrupt your bedtime?” He takes a swig of his beer bottle and Y/N almost forgets that he’s obviously been drinking. “Were you having a little read before you went to bed? Lemme guess; you were re-reading the Vagina Diaries for the tenth time?”

Y/N’s chest twinges with pain just a little, knowing that the book was on her bookshelf with a worn-out spine. He seemed to know her very well, but it only angered her because he got the answer right. “It’s actually Vagina Monologues, but nice try. I guess for someone who hasn’t opened a book in their life, the Vagina Monologues would be interesting.”

Rafe chuckles and she has a small urge to kiss the corners of his smile. Thankfully, once she swallows harshly, the urge disappears. “Just come in and don’t put your hippie feet anywhere near my furniture.” He finally steps aside, and Y/N takes that as the kindest invitation she’s gonna get from him.

“You mean, your parents' furniture.” She puts one foot in front of the other and tries to remember how to walk. Although it may not seem like it, she’s nervous. She’s not too good with crowds. As she passes Rafe, she can smell his cologne and she feel as though she might faint. For such an annoying boy, he really was intoxicating.

Rafe is not given enough time to throw a snide remark back in her face because someone has entered Y/N and Rafe’s little bubble. It’s another very handsome boy but this time, he’s sweet. He’s wearing preppy clothes (cargo shorts and a pink polo shirt - big shocker there) but he’s not preppy at all when he introduces himself.

“Hey! I’m Kelso; nice to meet ya!” He gives Y/N a half hug because his other hand is holding a beer, but she still gets the sentiment that he’s friendly. His hand respectfully lays on Y/N’s shoulder and Y/N actually hugs him back even though that’s not her thing with strangers.

“I’m Y/N, and it’s nice to meet you too!”

She watches as his brows go from a relaxed arch to a surprised arch instantly. It seems that whatever she has said has caught him by surprise. “Oh? You’re Y/N?” Kelso looks to Rafe for a moment, his eyes narrowing in amusement. Rafe tries to indirectly tell him to stop by flipping him off, but it only encourages Kelso. “I guess we have you to thank for this incredible party then!”

Y/N frowns, turning around to look at Rafe. They’re still in the entryway of his house and she hasn’t so much as taken in her surroundings, but this seems too important to ignore. What does Kelso mean? Did Rafe throw this party in hopes that she’d come? There was no way. Doesn’t Rafe find her completely annoying and obnoxious? If so, why would Kelso say such a thing?

“He’s joking right?” Y/N tries to confirm from Rafe but by his meek smile and his cheeks that have only gotten redder since she entered his home, she knows there’s some truth in what Kelso is saying.

Rafe shrugs, trying to come up with a lie. He had confided in Kelso as a way to relieve the stress that liking Y/N has caused but instead, Kelso just had to mess it up. “Well, not exactly.” His mouth is forming a lie before his brain can even properly think of one. “I mentioned to Kelso that you’ve probably never been to a party in OBX, so he must’ve thought I threw it for you.”

Y/N nods, confused as to why she feels a little sad. For some reason, a little part of her hoped that Rafe had thrown a party for her to notice him but alas, it had all been a misunderstanding. “Oh, well, okay.”

Except it wasn’t a misunderstanding at all. Rafe had told Kelso that the only reason he was throwing this party was for Y/N to notice him in a new light. He knew she thought he was just another annoying preppy Kook and he wanted to change that. He thought maybe, just maybe, if she had fun tonight with him, she’d finally start to see him as he truly was, a loveable dork. Unfortunately, that seems to be ruined now.

Before any more words can be exchanged, someone yells for Y/N. She instantly looks to the crowd of people in Rafe's backyard and sees JJ and Pope. The door to his backyard is open so the yelling is clear and not muddled by a barrier. They seemed to have been yelling for a while because they looked exasperated. Y/N watches as JJ stands from his lawn chair and motions for her to come sit beside them. She smiles for one of the first times tonight and nods, the pressure on her chest lifting when she sees her two friends. She wanted to take to Rafe later and get the full story because she had a feeling, he wasn’t telling her the complete truth, but she wanted to greet her friends first. She’d get to Rafe later. For now, she wanted to relax.

When Y/N departed from Rafe and Kelso, awkwardly waving goodbye before maneuvering to the back of Rafe’s house, Kelso spoke first.

“Dude, why didn’t you tell me she didn’t know this party was for her?”

Rafe glared at his friend. “You really think I’d tell her that. Now she probably thinks I’m even more creepy than before.”

Kelso rolls his eyes at how dramatic his friend was. “You didn’t see her reaction, bro. I don’t know if she even knows it herself, but she definitely likes you.”

Rafe rolls his eyes. He doesn’t allow for his hope to rise because he knows it’s not true. He can’t let himself have any more hope that the new girl in OBX would want to have anything to do with him. She can’t like him because no girl like her ever has. So, instead, he steals glances at her for the rest of the night and hopes to God he can get high enough to forget about the beautiful girl across the street.

~

Y/N tried to enjoy herself, she really did. And to JJ’s credit, he tried to help her relax and have some fun. She drank the beer that was offered to her, danced with JJ and Pope, and even took two puffs of JJ’s joint. But, although she felt thoroughly buzzed, Rafe never left her mind. She tried to throw a few sneaky glances his way the entire night, but she couldn’t find him. She even left her spot beside JJ and pretended to get a refill on his nasty beer just to see if she could spot Rafe. Unfortunately, he was nowhere to be seen. At first, she thought it was just because she wasn’t looking hard enough but soon, after three whole hours of not seeing Rafe even once, she realized he was avoiding her. And if he was avoiding her, it meant that he was embarrassed from their conversation at the beginning of the night. Which meant that he lied, and he had in fact thrown this party just for her.

This revelation crept into her mind slowly throughout the night but when it finally sunk in, she was speechless. She didn’t know how to react. Sure, there was a slim chance that he had been telling the truth but the less she saw of Rafe at his own party, the more she realized that he had lied to her.

JJ had noticed how off Y/N seemed. When they had seen each other earlier in the day for her surfing lessons, he had made a fool out of himself. They had been practising for a few hours before they both called it quits, deciding to pick it back up the next day. Before departing, JJ offered her ice cream for a hard day's work, and she gladly accepted. They both ordered the same flavour (mint chocolate chip - he swore they were soulmates because of this) and ate it as they talked. When they were both finally finished, Y/N went to hug him goodbye, but he instead extended his hand awkwardly for her to shake. She seemed slightly embarrassed, but he was even more so. He had wanted to hug her but didn’t want to without her permission, so he thought a handshake was the safe bet. Unfortunately, he thought wrong and now, that awkward interaction was burned into the back of his mind. He was worried that’s why Y/N seemed so detached, barely speaking. When she had gone to refill her cup, JJ looked to Pope for advice. He had never been so needy for a girl’s approval before and since Pope seemed to want everyone to like him, JJ thought he’d give the best advice.

“So,” JJ sighs and he finishes telling the story of their awkward interaction. “Do you think that’s why she’s been so quiet?”

Pope snorted. “JJ, I think it’s just you. I doubt she even remembers it.”

Although his friend tried his best to reassure JJ, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was burdening Y/N’s mind. But, before JJ could continue his conversation with Pope, Y/N reappeared with a glass full of beer and a somber face. The topic was not brought up again.

JJ had been right though. Something was burdening Y/N’s mind. It’s not everyday that a girl finds out a boy who she thought saw her as a bothersome girl actually saw her as much more. It’s a difficult experience to relate to and not a problem Y/N thought she would have. Apparently, Rafe was better at hiding his true feelings than she thought. She had always assumed that when she’d catch him peeking through his window, watching her ride her bike with her brothers or bask in the sun as she read another book, he was judging her. She assumed he was making fun of her and her hippie family. And when they had first met in the main office of her school, it only solidified in her mind that he saw her as a joke. But instead, he might’ve actually liked her. You clearly only watch people in that way if you hate them or like them and since it clearly wasn’t hate…

No. She wouldn’t let her mind go there. Besides, even if he liked her, who was to say if she even liked him? He had been nothing but rude to her, even when he had technically invited her to this party. He called her a hippie (not offensive by itself but when Rafe said it, it might as well have been), watched her from his window with a scowl, and was a complete snob. If Y/N knew what was good for her, she’d stay far, far away from Rafe and anyone he associated with. But Y/N was a dumb teenage girl and curiosity got the better of her. She needed to find another good excuse to go inside and search one last time for Rafe.

The excuse presented itself when JJ made a small remark of how thirsty he was. Y/N jumped at the opportunity to refill his drink, even though he offered to go himself. But she insisted, taking his cup from his hands before he could argue any longer. As she made her way back inside, her eyes looking for the handsome brunette, Pope leaned closer to JJ.

“See? And you thought she didn’t like you?”

JJ nodded, feeling better about the whole ordeal. Unfortunately, if he knew why she truly had wanted to venture inside, it’s doubtful he would have felt better. He probably would’ve felt worse. But he didn’t know, and he wouldn’t know for a while longer.

Y/N first made her way to Rafe’s huge kitchen where all the kegs were lined up. Half of them were already empty but the night was coming to a close and soon, half the party would leave and only Rafe’s closest friends would stick around until 5am. It was midnight now and although she didn’t have a curfew, she wanted to be home by at least 1am. So, as she filled only JJ’s cup, she decided against filling her own. She didn’t want to be too tipsy in case she ran into Rafe. Although, by this time, she thought it was very unlikely that she’d ever see him.

Just as that thought crossed her mind though, another person entered the kitchen. Y/N recognized him immediately. It was Topper. They had never interacted much, just a brief wave whenever she’d pass his house when she rode her bike. If he was outside, which he had only been once or twice, he’d wave, and she’d wave back. Other than that, they never spoke. Until now.

He stood beside her, filling two glasses with beer. His blond hair was wet and sticking to his forehead, but his hands were so full, and he was so drunk he didn’t seem to notice. Y/N had seen Rafe’s pool, but she did not find herself on that side of his house for many reasons (the pool was on the other side of the backyard, she didn’t bring a bathing suit, and her mind was busy with more important matters). Topper seemed to be struggling with refilling two cups, his hands shaking just a little. Y/N instantly registered that he needed help and decided that busying herself with assisting Topper would help take her mind off Rafe.

“Here,” Y/N offered, setting JJ’s cup down on the counter. “Let me help.” She takes one of the glasses from Topper and begins to fill it up, all the while keeping an eye on Topper to make sure he doesn’t spill the other cup.

“Thanks.” He mumbles, swaying back and forth to the music that is blaring from somewhere inside Rafe’s house. Y/N can’t help but smile a little at this giddy boy who would otherwise be embarrassed for acting so weird if he was not so drunk.

Unfortunately, not even helping Topper can keep Y/N’s mind off Rafe. She wonders that since Rafe must’ve told Kelso something about her, Rafe could’ve confided in Topper too. From the gossip that JJ had told her, Topper used to date Sarah but even after they broke up, Rafe and Topper remained friends. So maybe, just maybe, Rafe had said something to Topper about her? She figured even if she asked Topper, it would never get back to Rafe. Topper was clearly drunk and would not remember the conversation he had with Y/N. No harm, no foul. Right?

Unfortunately, that idea was quickly squashed because just as she began to open her mouth, someone else entered the room. It was Rafe.

Rafe had skillfully avoided Y/N all night, while still stealing glancing her way. He never noticed that she too had been looking for him. He was so nervous that he’d eventually bump into her that he would make Kelso check every room before he entered it. Unfortunately, Kelso was drunk by midnight and could no longer help Rafe. Rafe tried to let it go, figuring you were probably gone by now. So, he asked Topper to refill his cup as he helped Kelso into his mom’s car. But, when Topper still hadn’t returned by the time Rafe entered his home, he thought there was no harm in checking up on him. Apparently, there was a lot of harm in that.

And now, there they stood, facing each other for the first time since the beginning of the night. Rafe wanted to turn back around and leave but he had always made a fool of himself, and he knew that if he awkwardly left without acknowledging Y/N, she’d surely think even lower of him. So, as soon as their eyes made contact, Rafe awkwardly raised his hand and waved. He could feel the awkward smile painted across his face and Y/N seemed to mimic him.

“Hey.” He squeaked out, taking both cups from Topper before speaking to his friend. He figured the less he looked at Y/N, the less awkward he would feel. He was wrong. “Top, why don’t you lie down on the couch. I’ll bring the beers soon.”

Topper only nodded, slowly making his way out of the kitchen, leaving his friend and Y/N in there alone. Alone for the first time since the beginning of the night. Both their pairs of eyes were trained on their drinks; Y/N was clutching onto JJ’s and Rafe held one for him and one for Topper. No one spoke for a while. Y/N had waited all night to get Rafe alone, just so they could talk and now she didn’t know what to say. She awkwardly shifted the weight in her feet, unable to think of the first thing she wanted to say. They were only five feet apart, but they might as well have been worlds away.

Rafe was in agony and decided to get it over with. He spoke first. “So, are you enjoying the party?” He spoke so formally, as if he was chatting with his grandmother, but he was too uncomfortable to speak any other way.

Y/N nodded, relieved he had taken the first leap forward. “Um, yeah. Never knew that kids could throw parties like this.”

Rafe smiled for a moment, happy that she was so amazed at his dullest party of the year. His heart fluttered at the thought of Y/N dancing in that beautiful white dress with him. Holding onto him as they swayed to the music, pulling her close. Close enough to -

“So, Rafe, I wanted to talk about earlier.” Y/N began, playing with the skin around her nails. It was a nervous tick she had yet to get rid of.

Those eight words destroyed Rafe. At that moment, he knew she had not believed his original lie. He wasn’t too surprised though. He was a shitty liar and Y/N seemed to pick on everything he did. Although he would rather rip his fingernails off one by one than have this uncomfortable conversation with Y/N, he knew he’d have to give her the answers she was looking for. Even if that meant embarrassing himself.

Finally, he nodded. “Um, uh, okay. What’s up?”

Y/N began to speak but before she could get a coherent sentence out, someone else entered the kitchen, making a bunch of noise as he did. Their eyes met instantly and when she recognized who he was, her back straightened slightly as if she had been caught in a salacious act. It was JJ.

“Y/N, what's taking so long?” He stops just after he enters the kitchen and as soon as his eyes go to Rafe, his smile drops. He’s confused beyond belief. He doesn’t know why Y/N is speaking to Rafe. He didn’t even know they knew each other. “Uh, am I interrupting something?”

Y/N forces a smile, glancing at Rafe briefly before walking past him and towards JJ. She hands JJ his cup and he gladly takes it, a look of pure confusion written on his face. “No, Rafe was just asking me if I am enjoying my first party in Outer Banks.”

JJ's eyes shift to Rafe, whose face is pure white. “Really? How… kind?”

Y/N knows JJ is suspicious so to curve his focus back on her, she reaches up to cup one side of his face. JJ’s eyes instantly fall back onto her, a small smile back on his lips. “Walk me home, JJ. I’m getting tired.”

JJ nods sweetly, placing his hand over the one that’s cupping his cheek. “Sure. Go get your stuff and I’ll meet you at the front of the house.”

Y/N looks back to Rafe one more time, a small smile on her face. Rafe pushes his lips into a thin line, nodding goodbye to her. She does the same, leaving the kitchen as quietly as she entered. Y/N’s afraid to leave JJ and Rafe alone but she really has no reason to stay any longer. She hopes that she can get Rafe alone soon so they can have an actual conversation. Tonight, was kind of a disaster but being with JJ and having such a fun time with him made up for it. She knows JJ is the type of guy she should be with. He’s fun and carefree and they’re too much alike to not get along. Even though this is all true and she does have feelings for JJ, there is a part of her that yearns for Rafe. And that part scares her.

Once Y/N is gone, JJ’s smile drops, and he turns back to Rafe with a menacing glare. “Look, I don’t know what your game is here, but I really like Y/N. We both know you’re not her type. So do both of us a favour and leave her alone.”

And with that, JJ was gone too. Leaving Rafe alone.

Even with all these people in his house, Rafe never felt more alone.

~

taglist: @tovvaa @canyoubuymetoast @multisimpinghoe (sorry to these queens for waiting so long lmaooo)

[4awny]

UPDATE ALERT: A Helping Hand

Cartman leaned in to get a closer look. "So that's where you've been."

"I'm running on fumes right now, so I need to get there tonight or I'm gonna be stranded out here."

"What the hell are you doing all the way in Nevada?" Kyle questioned and reached out to grab his laptop sitting on top of the dresser. The tips of his wiggling fingers just about made contact, when Cartman abruptly swiped it away.

"You asshole."

Cartman dropped the laptop onto his lap. "I'm trying to help you, retard."

Usually when the brunette did something nice, it was either to benefit himself or he expected something in return. Kyle eyed him like the sceptic that he was.

"I'll tell ya what. When I get back, I'll come and tuck you into bed, read ya a nice bedtime story and I can tell you all about my lil trip up here in The Silver State. Sound good?"

"Sounds great." Kyle agreed, despite wanting to know more. "Maybe then we could actually celebrate your birthday."

"Ah, and there's me thinking y'all forgot."

"I didn't forget." Cartman confessed proudly. "I knew and then made a conscious decision to not give a fuck."

"Heh." It took Kenny a moment to think of something to come back with. And then he remembered all about the juicy material he had on him. The smirk could be heard in his voice. "You got a habit of ignoring things, ya know that?"

Kyle was too distracted with setting up his laptop to notice the sudden change in the brunette's expression. "Cartman's got a lot of habits, Kenny."

"You know what, Kyle? You are so right, he does! You wanna know what my favourite one is?"

"Kenny." Cartman warned when he felt his face starting to flush.

"Okay, okay. Seeing as we're best buds and all, I won't go into it. Like the good friend that I am, I ain't saying nuthin."

He knew what game Kenny was playing. He knew, because he would have done the exact same thing if he managed to play his cards right. "Fuck you."

Kyle paid no attention to the conversation and assumed they were just talking shit to each other. "Photo's kinda blurry, dude. I'll fix the resolution and then I'll look for anything that stands out so I can pinpoint where it is. Might take a while."

"Thanks, man. You're a big help. I would kiss ya if I could." He snickered and Cartman could sense a storm heading his way. "Actually, second thought, I better not. If I did that, Cartman might-"

"BAH BAH BAH, ENOUGH." He swiped the phone from Kyle's grasp and quickly switched off the loud speaker. When his ear met with hysterical laughter, his blood boiled and he growled out, like a bear protecting a secret. "I swear to god, you scrawny piece of shit, the next time I see you?! I'm gonna take a knife and kill you my goddamn self! Slow and painful, how about that?!"

"Ha! Bring it on, asshole. You're the one that outed me first. Mama always told me you get what ya get and you got what ya got. And you wanna know something? I have no fucking clue what she was talking about. Still don't. But I think I get it now. So yeah, you can go ahead and kiss my scrawny piece of shit ass. Yer fucking prick."

Cartman spat with pure rage. "You fucking-!"

"Cartman."

Kyle's calm voice flinched him away from the phone. "What?!" He barked and regretted it immediately. Hearing the sound of the hangup dial, Cartman took a deep breath in and exhaled slowly. He rubbed the bridge of his nose as a means of calming himself down before handing the phone back to its rightful owner.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31878976/chapters/88707868

Chapter 24 - A Helping Hand

[ultimate-sidemen-imagines]

A Not So Happy Anniversary

Title: A Not So Happy Anniversary

Pairing: Reader/Harry

Word Count: 3,151

Warning: SMUT SMUT SMUT

Summary: You and Harry have a long distance relationship. When Harry messes up and misses your three year anniversary, you confront him face to face.

Author’s Note: Ladies and gents, it feels good to be back. My inbox is open to requests. Let me know what you think!

You were furious with him. 

Completely and utterly furious with him. 

He had done this to you a million times, you always had forgiven him and moved on. But this? This was definitely something you couldn’t let go.

Both you and Harry had been dating for three years now, not a moment did you regret the decision to date the famous "wroetoshaw" on YouTube. You would be the first one to admit that his fanbase and everything that came with being labeled as his girlfriend terrified you but Harry made it worth it. Thankfully, the both of you had managed to keep your relationship away from the public. Fans not in your personal lives eliminated any unnecessary stress you both didn’t need. You were happy, he was happy. You guys barely fought. But that was about to change tonight.

Harry lived in two places: Guernsey and London. He traveled back between the two constantly which always made you a little bit upset. You understood why he'd want to live in London, of course you did. When you had gone out there with him, even you struggled to leave London once your time was up. A mix of the city life and the fact most of Harry’s friends lived there - it was a no brainer. 

But being stranded in Guernsey while Harry was away in London had been the first major roadblock in your relationship. There would be long amounts of time that Harry would be in London, leaving you by yourself at home and missing your boyfriend. He'd always come back eventually and apologize in a shower of kisses. You couldn't help yourself but forgive him but this was too far now. 

You stormed off back inside your small little flat, flipping off any guys that whistled at you in your short, black mini-dress while doing so. You had decided to get dressed up since tonight was a pretty big deal - the three year milestone with Harry. Your anniversary was today, something that you had reminded Harry about for two weeks. He promised over and over again that he would be home on time for your anniversary and that he'd meet you at your favorite restaurant for a romantic meal. Long story short, you had been sitting at the table for two hours with no sign of Harry. He'd let you down. 

You burst through the front door of your flat, throwing your heels off to the floor and locking the door with both locks. At least that way, Harry couldn't get in if he got there in the morning. You sniffled, feeling yourself now start to get upset more than angry. How could he do this? He promised. You’d always forgiven him for being late to come home before but this just felt like a slap in the face. 

A second later, you were at the fridge - taking out a bottle of wine and taking a swig from it. You knew it was stupid to try and numb the pain with alcohol, it would only leave you feeling like shit in the morning. You shook your head and put the bottle away, deciding to just go to bed and forget about Harry until the morning. 

It was about half an hour later when you had finally gone to bed, wearing one of Harry’s t-shirts and sweats. You were scrolling through Twitter to see if Harry had written anything yet no tweets came up for today. You were a little concerned at that but once you remembered just why you were angry with them, any feelings of being concerned were out the window. You turned off your phone and placed it on your side table - not being able to avoid the framed photo of you and Harry sitting there. At the sight of it, you quickly turned off your lamp and went to sleep. 

-

"Y/N, Y/N. Baby, wake up." You felt yourself being shaken out of your dream, your name being repeated over and over again. Eventually, your dream of a happy anniversary slipped away and your eyes fluttered open. 

You saw a dark figure over you in the bed, causing you to scream out. The figure put his hand over your mouth, trying to reach over to turn on the light as you struggled against his hand. "Babe! Stop! It's me! Harry!" He exclaimed in a loud whisper, turning on the dim lamp light to reveal himself. 

You calmed down as soon as you realized it was him, shoving him off you and sitting up in the bed. "For fuck sake Harry, you can't just hover over me in pitch darkness at-" You looked over at the time. "2:30 in the fucking morning!" 

"How the hell did you get in here anyway? I locked the front door with both locks." You grumbled, crossing as arms as Harry raised an eyebrow

"Yeah, I noticed that. I had to climb up a floor outside and get in through your window." He motioned the open window before shooting you an amused look. "I told you that you needed to lock your windows." 

"And you need to take the hint when I don’t want you in the flat." You grumbled, before grabbing one of your pillows and throwing it at him. "Harold, leave. I don't want to fucking talk to you or even look at you right now." 

"C’mon babe, don’t be like that. I know you missed me." He joked, only making the situation worse in pure Harry style. How the hell could he be making jokes and not even acknowledge how badly he had messed up? You just glared at him, shoving him off the edge of your bed and laying back down. "Go to the couch - we’ll talk in the morning when you’re actually ready to have a serious conversation.”

"Baby, come on. I'm joking." He cooed as you just ignored him and tried to go back to sleep. Harry bit his lip and sat back on the bed again next to you, watching your body turn away from him. He took the peaceful moment to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before running a finger down your arm softly. 

"Harry, I’ll seriously do something I’ll regret if you don’t get out and give me some space." You seethed, though Harry didn't budge. 

"Your threats don't make you scary, babe. You're like a hamster." He teased before he decided to get serious - he knew you'd really kick him out of the flat if he kept pulling jokes as such. "Look I'm sorry, okay?" 

"Sorry for what, Harry? Missing our anniversary, maybe? Maybe promising you'd be home yet you didn't come back on time. Really? I always let it go but you crossed a fucking line this time." You shot back at him. 

"My flight got delayed, okay?" Harry admitted in defeat. "The plane was having engine failure so we couldn't take off in time. I had to sit on that plane for ages, I only just landed an hour ago." He said, leaning down to kiss your shoulder. "I'm really sorry that I missed our dinner. I'll make it up to you, okay? Please don't be angry with me. It’s not my fault that Gatwick is proper shit." 

"No Harry, I will be angry at you." You said annoyed, still refusing to turn your body towards him. "Okay fair enough, your flight got pushed back far. But you could've come back to Guernsey days ago so you wouldn't miss our anniversary or maybe actually spend some time with me - but no. You're too busy partying it up in London with all your friends and all the girls that probably want to sleep with you the first chance they get. I know there’s gonna be one day where you just don’t come back to Guernsey for me and that’ll be the end of us." 

"Babe, where is all this coming from? You know when we started dating that I said I’d be travelling back and forth." Harry frowned, knowing your anger was coming from something more than him missing dinner tonight. He hated to see you aggravated over this topic. Especially when all his friends knew just how much he loved you and how loyal he was. He knew that you weren’t exactly the biggest fan of the amount of female attention he received online. He understood that. But it did bother him seeing you truly believe that he’d never come back home to you one day. “What makes you think I’d ever do anything like that to you?”

"I’m just scared, Harry." You whispered back at him. "I'm very scared of what could happen while you're in London while I'm stuck here." You closed your eyes and tried to block everything out. Until you felt him turn you on your back. You opened your eyes slowly to look up at Harry hovering over you. You felt your heart skip a beat looking up at him in the dim light. Even when you were upset and mad with him, he still had the power to take your breath away. 

"You're mad, you know that? Absolutely crazy." Harry stated, leaning down to place a kiss on your forehead. "You think I'd get bored of you? Seriously? Take a look in the fucking mirror, Y/N." He teased you before he returned to neutral. “Whatever I’ve done to make you believe any of what you just said? I’m so sorry, babe. The last three years I’ve had with you have been the best of my life. I would never violate you like that.”

“You know I also work in London too - doing all the Sidemen shoots and videos. I’m building that brand more and more to make sure that I can always come home whenever I want. I’m doing it so that we can live comfortably, that I can take you on holidays and help you pay for this place while I’m away. Never once have I been in London and not missed you, Y/N. I know I’m definitely far from perfect but I won’t let you think that I don’t love you. Cause I do, so fucking much.”

He leaned down and placed kisses down the side of your face - pressing a quick peck on your lips before moving down to your neck. 

"I fucking hate you sometimes." You insulted, gasping when you felt him leave love bites on the certain spot on your neck that drove you crazy. You snaked a hand into his hair when he did so, feeling yourself wanting him more rather than wanting to punch him back to London. 

"I sincerely doubt that you hate me right now." He said in a cocky tone, pulling his head back to admire the hickies he had left on your neck and smirking down at you. 

"Shut the fuck up." You growled, grabbing his fistful of his jumper and pulling his face back down to yours. You slammed your lips back against his, the whole action coming from both anger at him missing your anniversary dinner and lust at the same time. You knew there was love in your actions as well but you were more focused on other things at hand. 

Harry did a pretty good job at keeping up with the pace of your lips against his, deepening it and taking the moment to nip at your bottom lip. You moaned softly at that before your hands were underneath his clothes, practically ripping them off him and throwing them off to the side. He did the same with you, the both of you continuing to keep your lips together almost like it was a form of life source. 

It wasn't long before the couple were now fully naked, Harry's body pressing against yours as you made out. Something about his skin pressed against yours always gave you a funny feeling in your stomach - such a warm and safe feeling. You knew that you loved this boy after three years of dating, you only hoped you'd be able to communicate that through this.

Harry pulled back after a while, leaning over to the bedside table to retrieve a condom while you placed kisses along his neck. You made sure to leave your own marks on his skin. He grabbed one quickly enough and groaned at your hickies, pulling himself off to you long enough to roll the condom onto himself. You felt your eyes gleam at the sight of your fit boyfriend in his most vulnerable state. You completely understood why she got so jealous of him being away from you - he was such a gorgeous boy. 

Your boyfriend was back on you a second later, continuing to make-out with you again as he settled himself between your legs. You wrapped your legs around his waist to keep him close, eventually both of you pulling away for air. There were no words uttered between the two, speaking with your eyes and facial expressions. The rough lust and anger had faded away now to a soft kindness and love that you felt whenever you were near Harry. You smiled at him as he returned the favor before pushing into you without another second wasted. 

"Oh!" You moaned, leaning your head back against the pillows as he did so. It had been awhile for you both, having been ages since he was last home. You had definitely missed this. "Harry," You breathed out as he let out a long sigh, getting used to the feeling of being back inside you before he started to set a pace. “Feel so good around me, baby. Fuck I missed you.”

"Harry," You moaned louder this time, going up in volume the faster he went. "Harder, baby." You urged him on, hearing a type of groan and growl leave from his lips. He buried his face into your neck as he continued to thrust faster, leaving more hickies on the other side of your neck. 

"Oh fuck yes." He grunted against your skin, his words only bringing back that fluttery feeling in your stomach. "My gorgeous girlfriend. Even when you’re angry at me, you’re still so fucking hot.” He whispered, lifting his head up from your neck to look at you in the eyes while he fucked you. “No-one can have you, you hear me? You're mine." He whispered, taking one of his hands to wrap around your neck. Not too tight but enough to send your mind spiraling.

"Oh fuck Harry!" You cried out at this, your hands going straight to his shoulders. You dug your fingernails into his skin, dragging them down his pale back as you struggled to get your words out. "You're mine, Lewis. You're mine and I'm yours." You choked out, gasping and moaning out a version of his name at every thrust.

"Damn right." He growled, eventually turning you both over so you were on top of him. He kept control despite the change in position, angling his hips up and holding your hips to keep you steady. He kept doing that for a while, just smirking at hearing the porn-worthy noises that came past your lips. That smirk wiped away however when he felt his thrusts starting to falter, Harry coming closer and closer to his orgasm just like you.

"Oh baby, I'm so close." You whispered, clutching onto him as she felt her high nearing. Harry only smirked at this, trying to go as fast as he could in that moment. He sat up from the mattress, keeping a hold on your hips. He kissed you, "Go on baby, come for me. I wanna hear you." He growled against your lips. That was your breaking point.

"Harry!" You practically screamed, reaching orgasm. It was incredible the types of orgasms Harry gave to you, they always left you speechless and shaking. You heard strangled groans of your name come from Harry, feeling him reach his orgasm too. You kept rocking your hips against his as you both worked each other through your orgasms - eventually stopping when Harry pulled out. He collapsed down onto the mattress, bringing you down with him and holding you against him.

You were left a panting mess, resting against Harry’s body and your head on his chest. All that could be heard was your and Harry's panting, both of your eyes closed to take in what just happened before Harry motioned you to look at him.

"You still mad at me?" Harry asked sweetly after a while, “I don’t know how you could be after that.”

"Oh shut up." You rolled your eyes playfully, enjoying his laughter before you pecked his lips.

"Still - I still think something needs to change, Harry." You admitted, gaining Harold's attention. "I mean... I... I love you, I do. And I want to be with you. But you’re in London constantly. I can’t even travel to see you that often because of university. If I’m just barely going to see you, I can't deal with that. I need a compromise." 

Harry thought about what you said for a moment, placing a small kiss to your forehead. "You're right. I will admit that I love London more than Guernsey but I love you more than anything." He admitted to you, nothing left but love filling his beautifully colored eyes of his. "So let's fix the problem. When you graduate from uni, come back to London with me."

"What?" You asked, confused. 

"Come back with me to London, move in with me and Cal. We never have to be apart that way." He cooed. "I can talk to the guys about letting me come back to Guernsey every couple weeks or so to see you more rather than what I have been doing until you finish school. But when you finish, I want you to move out to London to stay with me permanently. I want to have you there for everything. None of this long distance bullshit. Especially if it’s making you doubt me. I want you with me. To prove to you that you never had anything to be scared about.”

It was definitely a lot for you to take in, moving from your small little town to the big city of the UK. You were nervous about thinking of starting a life there but as you looked at Harry and saw that future involved him - it became a no brainer. 

"We'll talk about it properly in the morning, okay? For now, let’s get some sleep. Especially since you gotta make up for missing today." You said softly with a smile, pecking his lips before laying your head back on his chest. 

"So after the morning sex?" Harry teased, making you roll your eyes and hitting him with the nearest pillow as his laughter vibrated throughout the whole flat. 

Yep. London sounded pretty good.

[shootingstarwritings]

Eight Pleas on a Starry Night

Eight Cups a Day

Eight Memories a Minute

All that this creature knew from the moment of its "birth," was to consume. The moment it first began to understand "itself" and "the world," it absorbed whatever was in front of it. Just as babes from the womb yearn for their mother's womb, these slimes feast upon segments of their host's brains. There was no thought and no malice behind; instead, it was pure instinct. Consume and assimilate as much as the host's brain would allow until complete takeover.

The moment this creature, now male due to his host, opened his eyes, he saw the sight of another looking at him with emotion the creature couldn't quite understand just yet. However, through pure instinct and the slight connection they shared as a species, he knew that this was his brother. “Ah, hello,” he greeted with pure innocence.

“H-Hey,” his brother responded, sounding not unlike the people the creature saw in his host’s memories. How skillful was he at hiding amongst these humans? “D-Do you know who I am? Do you know who you are? What’s your name?” Now, he spoke aggressively, but alongside another set of emotions.

Not wanting to disappoint his brother, the creature said, “I do not recall,” with complete assurance. “I seem to be quite adept at assimilating my host’s memories, unfortunately. It looks as though I cannot be a unit that can infiltrate any of these people.”

His brother shut his eyes, as though he had swallowed something harsh, before saying, “You are Nolan. Your name is Nolan.”

“Nolan. Understood.”

“And I’m F-Forde. My name is Forde.” Forde took a deep breath, his hand brushing up against Nolan’s. Then, he intertwined their fingers together. “Do you really not remember me? When we looked at the stars together?"

Nolan shook his head. “Am I supposed to? I am sorry if I am not up to your standards, brother.” Squeezing Forde’s hand—was it his host’s natural response?—Nolan said, “I will do better in the future. Do not worry.”

Forde nodded as he drew his hand back to his chest. There was an emotion on Forde’s face that Nolan did not recognize, so he ignored it.

The creature inside of Alan stared up at the summer night. He had a fleeting thought of the few stars that shined despite the town's light pollution and wondered if that was where he and his kin came from. However, he quickly dismissed that line of thought. It was not important for their invasion, so it was unnecessary. He was reeling from these useless thoughts that continued to plague him ever since the day he emerged from the sea.

Most of his brothers had perished when he had managed to infect Forde. He could only convert one person and implant his sole offspring before his brothers, unable to speak to him and cry for help, dried up. All he could do now was ignore any sort of sentimentalism that burdened him and press on forward.

“I am an invader,” the invader said to himself, floating naked on the surface of the pool. “Then, why do I have these regrets?”

Regret was a sentiment that his host, Alan, was familiar with. Words left unsaid, arguments he couldn't take back, and a life that was snuffed due to a misunderstanding. The list was long but also faded. By now, the invader had engulfed most of Alan's memories, so there was very little he could recall with any clarity. All he could see was a series of faded images.

It mattered little, the invader decided. The lingering feelings didn’t matter. All that was important was to breed and infect. That was the final purpose they had.

“Alan, there’s someone at the door.”

Ah, that was unexpected. Alan swam to the edge of the pool and pulled himself out. “Do you know who it is, brother?”

He nodded. “It’s your friend—or rather, it’s your host’s friend,” said Forde. “He texted you, and I responded, and one thing left to another...” he said, nonchalantly while pointing his thumb to the front of the house. “And now he’s here. You gonna…?”

“I’ll have to infect him,” said the invader as he dried himself off. “There’s nothing else that can be done.”

“Right, well Nolan is by the door if you need any assistance.”

The invader raised an eyebrow. “Will you not help me?”

“I'm sorta tired if we're being honest. Maybe some other time?" Forde said with a shrug and a grin.

The invader narrowed his eyes but didn't say anything in response. He walked past Forde, but stopped right before crossing the doorway. “You are my offspring, and yet you are so different from your brother and myself. Why is that?” There was far too much personality, whether from the host or from the possessor itself. It was odd.

Forde’s gaze grew distant. “I wonder why myself,” he muttered. “But never mind that. Your friend’s in the front, and Nolan’s in position to help you infect him.”

“And your family? The ones who own this home?”

“Won’t be back until Monday. We’ve got plenty of time.”

The invader had suspicions rise, but he pushed them to the back of his mind. There were more pressing matters to attend to. “Please, watch over your siblings.” The invader didn’t wait for a response. He processed the information carefully and he dried off and dressed.

“Alan, hey!” Forde was right. A friend of Alan, a great deal younger—about middle-aged—stood in front of the doorway. The invader could not access much of Alan's memories, so the man was a stranger to him. However, he was knowledgeable enough to recognize the glint in the man's eyes.

“Thank you for coming.”

“Came as soon as I could,” the man said, smiling brightly as he spoke to Alan. “Said you needed my help? Say, what’s this place anyway? How come you’re here?” With narrowed eyes, the man leaned in and whispered, “Ain’t that kid a li’l too young for you? Seems kinda weird if you ask me.”

Alan shook his head. “He’s a family friend. Said he needed help moving a couch. Could you help me?”

The suspicion in the man’s eyes cleared, and he eagerly nodded. “Sure! I’ll give you hand. Lead the way.”

[LINE BREAK]

Forde was panting by the time he entered the house again. What he walked into didn’t surprise him, but he still had to fight the urge to gag.

“Hello, nngg, Forde!” Nolan greeted him as he fucked Alan’s convulsing friend. “This one has almost finished his conversion. Would you like to assist me?"

“I think I’ll pass,” Forde said, grimacing. His eyes lingered on the man before turning over to the sleeping Alan on the couch. “Alan’s asleep?”

“Yes, mmm. He-fuck—s-said creating so many offspring has left him exhausted. Will probably sleep until the party tomorrow.”

The party…

Forde took a deep breath, trying to calm his breathing. “Nolan, when you’re… finished, meet me in my room, all right?”

“Which—“

“The one closest to the bathroom. You can’t miss it.”

“Right."

Forde lied back on his bed, attempting to erase the image of Nolan happily plowing another man’s ass out of his head. There was no doubt that what he had seen was the truth, but it carried such wrongness to it that he couldn’t help to wind back to it. Nothing about Nolan seemed to have remained. The chipper friendliness and eagerness to please was something that would have disgusted Nolan and now it disgusted Forde. Not even the memories were there. At most, the one possessing Nolan could remember some family members, last name, and his street address.

Everything else, including that night under the stars, was gone.

“Is this my punishment?” asked Forde, unsure if God would answer the pleas of a parasite. “Is this what I deserve for killing Forde?" That sin would remain with him for the rest of his life. It didn't matter if he believed he was Forde and inherited the name, the body, and the memories, the original was gone. If Forde ever left this body, it would remain a hollow husk. The organs would function, but there would be no brain activity. It would be no different than a vegetable.

Yet, Forde could not deny his greedy nature—as a parasite and a man. I still want to be happy, he thought. God, Alan, and the world itself can shame and hate me for it, but I still want to live a happy life. He knew how shameless that desire was, but did not care. The pain and pleasure that he has known in his short time as a human only stroked the hungry flames that burned in his heart.

The door opened, and Nolan walked in, still naked. “I am here, brother,” he announced, as though it wasn’t obvious.

Forde drew the sheets back and scooted to the side of the bed. “Close the door, and lie with me.”

“Hmm? Will we be sleeping on the same bed?”

“Yeah. Keep me company for tonight, will ya?”

“I see no reason to decline.” Without any shame, Nolan lied right next Forde. Their bare shoulders were touching, but only one of them understood the implications,

“Nolan, do you remember what happened when we went camping that night?”

“I do not.”

“Yeah, I figured,” said Forde, preparing himself. His hand was trembling, and he was sweating all over. Why couldn’t he calm himself? “Could you… Could you do me a favor, br-brother…?” When Nolan said yes, Forde nearly sobbed. After a deep, uneven breath, he said, “Please, gather yourself in your host’s mouth. I have to show you something.”

Unquestionably, Nolan did so. He opened his mouth, the blue slime lying on top of his tongue. Even in that form, he looked completely innocent.

Forde ripped over the packet of salt and poured it on his own tongue, cringing from the taste. Then, he leaned over and kissed Nolan’s lips before swiftly drawing back, the aftertaste of the salt lingering in his now empty mouth. The effect was immediate.

Nolan’s body began to violently convulse. “Wh-What did you d-do?!” Nolan cried out, spitting out the salt and now bits of foam. “Br-Brother?!” His eyes rolled to the back of his head and spat out more and more foam—the remains of his desiccated body. Forde shut his eyes and covered his ears.

Just like snails and slugs, their species would dry out when their real forms were exposed to concentrated amounts of salt due to osmosis. Even though they originated from the ocean, the intense amount of salt would still kill them. It only due to Forde’s biology degree that he could figure that out. And because of that, he knew that there was a chance Alan didn’t know that, either. This was his only weapon… the only thing he had to stop the invasion.

And yet…

Forde jumped as Nolan grabbed his arm in desperation. He opened his eyes and the image burned itself into his memory. He was dying. Nolan, the slime, whatever, was dying. Because of him. Because of what Forde did. He’s just a parasite, a murderer, Forde kept thinking as the convulsing began to cease. “I had to, I had to...” he kept muttering to himself, even as tears trailed down his cheeks.

He was a murderer just like me.

Now, he was staring at Nolan’s still-breathing body. There was no life in his eyes, but his chest still rose and fell, and his mouth was still agape. The slime, his brother, was gone. And Nolan was gone too. Two more lives that Forde had snuffed out, and tomorrow he would have to do it again.

He tried to smile. “Nolan...” he said, embracing the brain-dead husk. “Nolan, Nolan… Nolan… I love you,” he said, caressing Nolan’s unmoving face. “I saved you, I did it… you’re okay now.” Forde pressed his face on Nolan’s left pectoral. His heart continued to beat despite how empty it was. “You’re free, you’re okay. I k-killed the parasite, I did it for you…! So, you’ll forgive me, right?” There was no response, no matter how much Forde pleaded. However, he continued. "Please, please tell me you'll forgive me. You and Forde will forgive me, right? Please, please, for the love of God, please help me...”

Neither God nor Nolan answered him that night.

[starrygalaxy04]

Songs That Remind Them of You (MLQC Headcannons)

Victor

Don't Go Breaking My Heart (Elton John)- Victor is a sucker for romantic-style music, and this song is no exception. He can't help but imagine dueting this song with you whenever it plays softly in the background while he's making your favorite caramel pudding.

Adore You (Harry Styles)- He would never admit it, but this man just wants to shower you in affection. His favorite moments are when he gets to hold you in his arms and he can just gaze at you with the insane amount of joy, admiration, love, and unfiltered affection that only you get to see. He's been searching for you for a very long time, and he's going to cherish every second of being with you.

Still the One (One Direction)- He would never admit he ever listens to this song because like hell is anyone going to find out that he listens to boy bands, but this song's lyrics strike all the right chords with him. He loves the message it sends because its the very message he will always reiterate to you when you feel like you're not enough or he could do better. Its you, its always been you.

Lucien

Dark Side (Kelly Clarkson)- This man has a hard time knowing that you love him and are blissfully unaware of the monster that lurks just below the surface. He often finds himself wondering if you would still love him if he were just Ares, or if you would leave after you found out all of the things he had done for the sake of progress. But every time you wrap your arms around him or smile at him, all those worries melt away because he feels true emotion when he looks at you.

Its Gonna Be Me (NSYNC)- He knows that anyone in this world can have you, and it would kill him if you chose anyone else besides him. So he wants to make absolutely sure that he will never even have to think about letting his beautiful butterfly go. He is forever yours, and you will be forever his, even if it takes an eternity for that to happen.

Line Without A Hook (Ricky Montgomery)- This song mainly applies after Lucien no longer remembers MC, because I feel like it accurately describes how he feels. He knows MC doesn't trust him and is purposefully being distant, but at the same time the feelings that the other him felt are slowly trickling in and before long he's wishing that he could fix whatever it was that was tearing MC up so bad inside. And he knows that as he is, he's no good for you. But that doesn't mean that he isn't going to ignore the voice of reason in his head like the other him did and try his hardest to be what he once was for you.

Kiro

Fight For This Love (Cheryl)- Kiro knows that with him being a huge pop idol that sometimes the pressure gets to you. And he wants you to know he is always there and will be there next to you to fight through the thick and thin. He always wants to be with his favorite person ever, and will do whatever it takes to make sure that you're okay and he can be there to experience everything life has to offer with you, and to assure you that you are worth it.

100% Pure Love (Crystal Waters)- True to the name of the song, everything that Kiro feels (well almost everything, if you get what I mean) comes from the purest parts of him. He always wants you to be the happiest you can, always making sure that you have a bright smile on your face. And he knows what you two have is something people could only dream of, and having you in his arms is the best thing that ever happened since he met you again at that convenience store.

Price Tag (Jessie J)- He knows that when you two are together, nothing else matters. He knows you're not with him just because he's Kiro the superstar, but because he's Kiro. The bubbly 22 year-old who has an affinity for sweets and puppies with an adventurous streak. And he knows that if you two are next to each other, you wouldn't need anything else to have a good time.

Gavin

Treasure (Bruno Mars)- Honey, you are the center of this man's universe. He had treasured you since the first day he laid eyes on you, and wanted nothing more than to be by your side. And now that he is, he is over the moon. He may not be able to shower you in lavish gifts like some of the others, but every single moment you two spend together more than makes up from it, whether its a picnic under the stars or a midnight flight.

What A Man Gotta Do (The Jonas Brothers)- This brings back some of his older memories, back from the high school days. He was so shy when it came to you, and he never even knew how to approach you the majority of the time. So he always watched from the distance, wondering what he could do to get you to notice him. The song allows him to reflect on those cringey memories with a smile, and let him enjoy the fact that you were his, even after all that had happened.

Loving You Tonight (Andrew Allen)- This man can't wait to come home and just lay in your arms, or have you lay in his arms. His favorite moments are the ones of pure domesticity, things he never saw between his mother and father when he was younger. It feels so pure and freeing, and just so right. He loves every moment of it, and wouldn't have it any other way.

Helios

Popular Monster (Falling in Reverse)- While Helios is indeed a person, Helios is somewhat of a character that Kiro is playing. Its the side of him that he can't show to the world. He has killed people to protect others, to protect you, and in that way, he's exactly as the title reads, a popular monster.

Therefore I Am (Billie Eilish)- As Helios, he knows that everything relies on technique and execution, so he has completely shut out emotional functions for the most part, except when he's around you. But because Kiro is such a good actor, its very hard to tell. He knows that he's that bitch, and is not afraid to prove it, being blunt about literally everything. But he also knows that you have the perseverance of a God, to the point that its stupid, but as you build the confidence that comes with the identity of your Evol, he sees you growing in a way that he could have never taught you as Kiro.

Cigarette Duet (Princess Chelsea)- Helios knows that he can't associate with you as much as when he was Kiro because Black Swan is a bitch, but one thing he always wants to make sure is that you haven't fallen down and devolved into bad habits. The one thing that didn't leave Helios was his ability to care specifically about you, and even thinking that you would get into a habit that would harm yourself makes his blood boil. So he always makes sure you've remained drug-free and that you see him just enough that it won't get him in trouble and can give you comfort.

Shaw

No Roots (Alice Merton)- Shaw's idea of you is something much like how Victor saw you in the beginning. Someone who thrust themselves into something way over their head and now had to deal with the consequences of it. The only reason he believed you was because he knew of things (the man has his ways) and decided to help you because he found you just interesting enough that he thought it might be fun. But he found himself envying the fact that you didn't have a past in this world, and that you were free to do whatever you pleased without a reputation preceding you. He didn't like the fact that it caused you pain, but thanks to his asshole of a father the idea sounded a little too good to him.

Sad Girl (Lana Del Rey)- Shaw often found you moping around at first, mourning the fact that you had lost everything. But in the end, he was the one who helped you get over it, getting you back to your normal self. He still catches glimpses of that depressed look in your eyes, and always makes sure to lighten up on the teasing when he does see it. He never got the chance to be a kid and grow up properly, so he couldn't fathom exactly how hard it was for you. But he still tried.

White Tee (CORPSE)- We all know Shaw would be more into the punk style, and his music taste is no exception. He likes listening to mostly emo style music, and dabbles into a little bit of everything when he feels like it. However, this song mixes together his anger at the world for giving him such a shit childhood and the fact that with you he feels like he can start fresh. Because even though everyone else falls into the same category with him, you were different, and he wanted to explore that kind of different.

[justauthoring]

To Be Loved (6/?)

Prompt: Perhaps, you understand Harry Potter better then anyone else. Perhaps, it’s why, when your eyes meet his for the first time, you feel an instant connection. Perhaps, it’s why, you love him.

Based off of: The Harry Potter Series Pairing: Harry Potter x Black/Tonks!Reader, slight Fred Weasley x Black/Tonks!Reader A/N: OKAY! WE’RE FINALLY BACK!! I’m so happy to finally be continuing this series and I am so excited to see what you guys think of it -- especially come POA and on! I worked really hard on this chapter and I hope it was exactly what you guys were expecting.

Also, come the end scene with the house points, I lowered how many points Gryffindor has originally so it, you know, makes more sense.

Oh, how Ted and Andromeda would be disappointed in you.

You, who has never once acted out. You, who prided yourself on always being the best you could be. You, who had somehow found yourself wrapped up in detention with four others and for some reason, was a bit elated at the thrill of it all.

Of course, you’d never say that aloud.

Following closely behind Hermione, you eye the back of Filch with distain, rolling your eyes at his comment of “missing the old punishments” which was obviously a subtle-not-so-subtle threat. Because you highly doubted Hogwarts would ever approve of such teaching methods.

But then again, by the look of fear on Hermione’s face -- who were you to truly know?

“You’ll be serving detention with Hagrid tonight.” Filch explains, just as the group of you reach his hut, Hagrid himself stepping out. “He’s got a little job to do inside the Dark Forest.”

Maybe you were wrong about Hogwarts’ teaching methods after all...

“A sorry lot, this, Hagrid,” Filch calls sharply.

Glancing up at Hagrid, you frown at his lack of a reaction.

“Good God,” Filch huffs, exasperated, “you’re not still on about that bloody dragon, are you?”

You absolutely hate the smug look on Malfoy’s face.

“Norbit’s gone,” Hagrid sniffles, “Dumbledore sent him off to Romania to live in a colony.”

“Well, that’s good, isn’t it?” Hermione doubts, shaking her head in confusion. “He’s with his own kind.”

“Yeah, but what if he don’t like Romania?”

Lips parting, you frown -- you guess, that was, sort of, hard logic to argue with.

“What if the other dragons are mean to him? He’s only a baby after all.”

“Oh, for God’s sake,” Filch cuts in, disgusted, “pull yourself together. You’re going into the forest, after all. Got to have your wits about you.”

You share a nervous look with Hermione.

“The forest?” Draco calls, all squeaky-voiced and panicked. “I thought that was a joke. We can’t go in there. Students aren’t allowed. And there are...” On que, just as Draco pauses, you hear a distant wolf howling. “...werewolves.”

You roll your eyes. Figures he’d be a coward when he came down to it. All talk.

“There’s more than werewolves in those trees. You can be sure of that.” And after a dramatic pause, Filch steps forward with the intent to leave. “Nighty-night.”

You turn to Hagrid expectantly.

“Right. Let’s go.”

-

Hagrid had split you off with Draco and Harry and while you detested having to be with Malfoy, it wasn’t so bad with Harry there too. You simply ignored the boy as he rattled off about his this was ridiculous and ‘servants work’ -- you’re sure he makes some sort of comment about ‘wait till my father hears about this’ but you don’t much care either way.

You stick close to Harry, keeping one hand on Fang along the way. Even if he was ‘a bloody coward’ as Hagrid so kindly put it, it felt nicer having him by yourself.

But the calm only lasts so long -- or what could be considered ‘calm’. The three of you halt to a stop at the sound of Fang barking, the action causing you to jump violently, your attention instantly being stolen by the sight before you. The injured unicorn Hagrid had sent you all off in search of, clearly dead now, with a cloaked, hidden figure hovering over him.

You blink, head turning towards Harry when he lets out a cry of pain. Your eyes widen when you realize he’s touching his scar. 

“Harry, what’s--”

But you’re cut off by Draco screaming, loudly, and running off in the next second. Fang follows him, and the loss of him next to you causes you to let out a light whimper of fear, turning back in the direction of the hooded figure only to find it now looking directly in yours and Harry’s direction. 

You stumble back, expecting Harry to follow you and the both of you to run off together. But Harry doesn’t ever break out into a run.

“Harry!” You whisper harshly, just as the cloak figures moves, almost gliding towards the two of you -- though it’s clear to both you and Harry, that he’s after him and not you. “Harry, we have to go!”

You pull on the sleeve of his cloak and he stumbles back, crashing into you. The two of you lose your footing, and a scream tears past your lips as you crash into the forest floor, eyes widening in terror when you realize just how close the figure has gotten.

But it does make it closer then that. In the next second, the sounds of hooves rattling echo above the both of you, and then there’s a massive shadow gliding over the top of your heads, landing directly in front of you -- thus blocking the hooded figures path to you and Harry.

Your eyes widen when the centaur easily scares it off.

Harry turns to look at you, and you share a baffled look back at him, just as lost. He stands, helping you up to your feet just as the centaur starts making his way towards the both of you. 

“Harry Potter,” and you blink, “you and your friend must leave. Many creatures know you here. The forest is not safe for the both of you at this time. Especially for you.”

“But...” Harry whispers, astonished. “What was that thing you saved us from?”

“A monstrous creature,” he says simply, “it is a terrible crime to slay a unicorn.”

He gestures to the slain creature, and you frown at the sight of it.

“Drinking it’s blood will keep you alive even if you are an inch from death. But at a terrible price. For you have slain something so pure...that the moment the blood touches your lips, you will have a half-life--”

“A cursed life,” you finish, causing both pairs of eyes to fall on you. Flushing, you shrink into yourself. “Sorry,” you eye Harry, before turning to the centaur. “Something a friend told me once.”

“You are right,” the centaur nods gently in your direction.

“Who would choose such a life?” Harry whispers.

“Can you think of no one?”

“Do you mean to say that that thing that killed the unicorn...that was drinking it’s blood, that was Voldemort?”

You gasp at the sound of the name, “harry!”

“What?” He turns to you, wide-eyed.

“You can’t just--”

“Do you know what is hidden in the school at this very moment?” The centaur interrupts you, leaning so he’s right before the both of you.

And then it dawns on you, and by the look on Harry’s face, he’s realized it too.

“The Philosopher’s Stone.”

“--Harry!”

You blink at the sight of Hagrid and the rest.

“Hello there, Firenze,” Hagrid greets. “See you’ve met our young Mr. Potter. And of course, Ms. Tonks. You all right there, you two?”

Glancing at Harry, the both of you quickly nod at Hagrid.

“Harry Potter,” Firenze calls, stepping towards him, “this is where I leave you. You’re safe now,” he turns to you, smiling gently. “The both of you. Good luck.”

You watch in astonishment as he turns, galloping off.

-

“I’ve always heard Hogwart’s final exams with frightful, but I found that quite fun.”

Laughing gently at Hermione, you shake your head.

“Speak for yourself,” Ron snorts, before his attention is stolen by Harry. “All right there, Harry?”

Glancing past Hermione’s shoulder, you frown at the sight of the boy holding a hand to his scar much like he had that night in the forest.

“My scar,” he whispers, “it keeps burning.”

Frowning, you speak up; “it’s happened before.”

“Not like this,” Harry argues.

“You should see the nurse.”

“I think it’s a warning. It means danger’s coming.”

Just as he finishes speaking, Harry comes to a slow stop.

The rest of you follow, glancing at each other curiously. But before either of you can say anything, Harry’s mumbling to himself; “of course...” and then, he’s suddenly rushing forward. Right towards Hagrid.

“What is it?”

“Don’t you find it odd that what Hagrid wants more than anything is a dragon...and a strange just happens to have one? I mean, how many people wander around with dragon eggs? Why didn’t I see it before?”

Equally as panicked as him, the four of you break out into a run, directly for Hagrid.

“Hagrid,” Harry calls, wasting no time for greetings. “Who gave you the dragon egg? What did he look like?”

“I don’t know,” Hagrid shrugs, baffled. “I never saw his face. He kept his hood up.”

Your eyes widen, turning to Harry; “just like in the forest.”

“You and this stranger must of talked,” Harry continues, nodding at you.

“Well,” Hagrid slows starts, recalling the moment. “He wanted to know what sort of creatures I looked after. I told him, “after Fluffy, a dragon’s gonna be no problem’.”

“Did he seem interested in Fluffy?”

“Of course he was interested. How often do you come across a three-headed dog? But I told him, ‘the trick with any beast is to know how to calm him’. Take Fluffy, for example. Play him music and he falls straight to sleep.”

The four of you look at each -- he just gave it away.

“I shouldn’t have told you that.”

-

“Do you think Ron and Hermione will be alright?”

“Yes,” Harry says quickly -- and it’s almost so quick, it sounds like he’s try to convince the both of you that it’s true. After that game of wizard’s chess, you were worried about Ron, and while you admired Hermione’s bravery and selflessness to stay back with him, you couldn’t help but worry at the idea of the four of you being separated.

Pausing to look at you, Harry nods; “they have to be.”

You nod at him, smiling faintly.

Then, the two of you stop in front of a door.

“What do you reckon’s next?”

“Quirrell and Snape are what’s left,” you whisper, shaking your head. “So, honestly, no idea.”

Harry let’s his hand fall on the handle, turning to you; “all right?”

You nod, “go on.”

He pushes it open and almost instantly a foul floods you. You pull at the sleeve of your sweater, pulling it over your nose to block the smell. Harry does the same, and the both of you eye the huge troll, with a bloody lump on it’s head with watering eyes. It was even bigger then the one from the bathroom.

“Quirrell,” you gasp, eyeing it with disgust.

“I’m glad we don’t have to fight that one,” Harry comments, pulling at your sleeve. “Come on, let’s go.”

The two of you quickly slip into the next room, staying as quiet as possible not to wake the troll. A sense of relief floods you as the foul smell no longer is invading your senses and you brace yourself for what’s next, only to find yourself puzzled by the lack of anything frightening. Just seven vials lined before you.

You take a step forward, and Harry follows, then, instantly a whooshing sound echoes.

You jump, glancing behind you, you eye the fire that now blocks the way you’d came with bafflement. It’s purple, not orange like a normal fire. And, glancing ahead of yourself, a black fire traps the both of you inside from the other end.

“Snape’s,” Harry says, “what do we do?”

“I...--” You eye the room with puzzlement, before noticed the scroll laying next to the bottles. “There,” you call, stepping forward and quickly unrolling the paper. Harry steps closer to you, leaning over your shoulder to read.

Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind, Two of us will help you, whichever you would find, One among us seven will let you move ahead, Another will transport the drinker back instead, Two among our number hold only nettle wine, Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line. Choose, unless you wish to stay here for evermore, To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four: First, however slyly the poison tries to hide You will always find some on nettle wine’s left side; Second, different are those who stand at either end, But if you would move onwards, neither is your friend; Third, as you see clearly, all are different size, Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides; Fourth, the second left and the second on the right Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight. 

“It’s a puzzle,” you mumble and Harry turns to you. “Purely logic,” you further explain. “A lot of wizards don’t have an ounce of logic, meaning they’d be trapped here forever.”

Harry huffs, shoulders falling. “So will we.”

You shake your head, swallowing thickly. “I think... I think I can work it out,” you say softly, not trusting your own self. 

What if you couldn’t?

“Give me a minute.”

Three minutes later and you let out a cry of frustration, Harry turns to you in panic.

“I need Hermione,” you cry, turning to him with a shake of your head. “She’d know what to do. She’s smarter then I--”

“Hey, that’s not true,” Harry cuts in, surprising you. “You’re just as smart as she is.”

“Harry,” you sigh, shaking your head. “You know that’s not true. Hermione knows everything about everything, she’d be able to figure this out. Just like she was able to figure out the Devil’s snare. You and Ron too. You got the key, and Ron beat the Wizard’s chess, I haven’t--”

“What happened before doesn’t matter,” Harry cuts in, stepping towards you, setting his hands on your shoulders and squeezing them reassuringly. “This is now, and I know you can figure this out.”

Eyeing Harry, you hesitate a moment before nodding.

Five minutes later and the solution comes to you.

“I got it!” You exclaim, Harry instantly rushing towards you. “The smallest bottle,” you point at it, “will get us through the fire. Towards the stone. There’s only enough for you, that’s hardly one swallow.”

“Which one will get you back though the purple fire?”

You point at the bottle.

“Drink that,” Harry nods at you, continuing before you can argue. “Find Ron and Hermione, help them get Dumbledore. I’ll be able to hold off Snape, but I’m not match for him.”

“But... Harry,” you whisper, frowning up at him. “What if... he’s...?”

“I was lucky once before.”

And then your body moves on it’s own, surged with fear and terror for him, stepping forward and pressing a kiss to his cheek. Almost immediately, you recoil. cheeks burning and a quick glance at Harry and his cheeks are just as red.

There’s a pause, the both of you not sure what to do, before Harry is mumbling; “you go first,” he coughs gently. “Make sure you get through. You’re positive you have the riddle right?”

Swallowing thickly, you nod; “yes.”

“Okay, go.”

And you drink the bottle, wincing at the burning feeling that floods down the back of your throat. “It’s not poison,” you mumble, “just... cold.”

Harry nods. “Okay, go, before it wears off.”

You eye him one last time, carefully. “Be safe.”

“You too.”

-

Turning from the twins with a bright smile, you fall silent, as does the rest of grand hall at the sound of glass dinking. All eyes fall to the head table, where you notice Dumbledore standing up.

“Another year gone,” he starts, “and now, as I understand it, the house cup needs awarding.”

Eyeing Harry, Ron and Hermione, you frown.

“And as I understand it,” Dumbledore continues, “the points stand thus; in fourth place, Gryffindor with two-hundred-and-sixty-two points.” An echo of claps surround you, but your face falls with disappointment. Nothing like your house cup coming in last your first year, and undoubtedly because of you and your friends...

You don’t think your father would be so proud of that.

“Third place, Hufflepuff with three-hundred-and-fifty-two points,” raising your hands, you clap. “In second place... Ravenclaw with four-hundred-and-twenty-six points. And in first place,” letting out a sigh, you frown as you wait the inevitable. “...with four-hundred-and-seventy-two points, Slytherin house.”

Letting your head fall into your hand, you make careful watch not to look at the Slytherin table as they burst out in excitement, claps and cheering.

“Yes, yes, well done, Slytherin. Well done.” Dumbledore acknowledges. “However,” and at this, you pause, brows furrowing. “Recent events must be taken into account. And I have a few last-minute points to award.”

Turning to Ron, you both share a look of hope and curiosity.

“To Miss Hermione Granger, for the cool use of intellect...while others were in grave peril...fifty points.” Smiling brightly, you turn to Hermione, bringing her in for a quick hug as her cheeks warm faintly, smiling widely herself.

“That’s amazing,” you whisper, nodding at her warmly.

“Second, to Mr. Ronald Weasley, for the best-played game of chess...that Hogwarts has seen these many years, fifty points.”

Eyes twinkling, you clap for Ron, as he turns to look at the three of you in astonishment.

“And third, to Miss Y/N Tonks,” and you pause at the sound of your name, wide-eyes turning to Dumbledore as he smiles gently at you. “For her will of strength and cunning loyalty to her friends, fifty points.” Blushing faintly, your eyes lower as cheering erupts around you once more, this time for you. The twins reach across to excitedly shake you, while the rest cheer for you.

And along the way, your gaze meets Harry’s and he’s smiling brightly at you.

“And,” Dumbledore starts, “to Mr. Harry Potter...for pure nerve and outstanding courage...I award Gryffindor house sixty points.”

“Amazing job, Harry,” you call to him brightly, clapping for him..

“We’re tied with Slytherin,” Hermione reminds, leaning forward to eye the three of you excitedly.

“And finally, it takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to your enemies...but a great deal more to stand up to your friends. I award ten points...to Neville Longbottom.”

At that, the entire Gryffindor table erupts into loud cheering, all for Neville who stares back in astonishment.

“Assuming that my calculations are correct...I believe that a change of decoration is in order.” He claps once, and you look up with a bright smile as the green Slytherin banners from above turn red for Gryffindor. “Gryffindor wins the house cup.”

Standing up, you share bright, excited smiles with the rest of your fellow Gryffindor’s, following suit as you all throw your hats up into the air.

-

“You’ll make sure to write to me, won’t you?”

“Yes, of course, ‘Mione.” You smile brightly, nodding at her. “I won’t forget.”

“Okay,” she smiles, all bright-eyed and excited. “See you next year?”

“See you next year.”

You share one final goodbye, hugging her tightly before she’s turning, heading off to where her parents await -- looking both confused and still amazed by everything around them. You watch with a laugh, before turning in search of Andromeda and Ted. Along the way, you find Ron and his family, sending the boy a wave to which he easily reciprocates.

This of course catches the attention of the twins, and with goofy grins they wave at you too, causing you to laugh.

And then, you catch sight of Ted and Andromeda, and you move to rush off towards them, before you notice Harry. He’s with his uncle and aunt, and remembering the distasteful stories he’d told you about them, you make the quick decision to bound over to him.

“Harry!”

He turns at the sound of your voice, blinking at the sight of you before sending a nervous look back at his uncle.

Coming to a stop before him, slightly breathless, you smile. “I just wanted to say goodbye,” you whisper gently, stepping towards him. “And I’ll make sure to write you over the summer as well.”

“Really?” And his eyes light up with excitement at that, “I’d like that.”

“Okay,” you nod, stomach fluttering. “Have a good summer.”

“You too,” Harry nods, waving at you as you step back, turning towards Andromeda and Ted.

Reaching them, you grin brightly up at them. 

Ted grins at you; “take it you had a first good year?”

“It was...” And as you move to finish, your gaze falls behind you, on Harry. “Wonderful.”

-

Part 7?

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[ktheist]

for the drabble game: college!taehyung + sentence starters + no. 8 under misc

8. “But I’ve never told you that before.”

muses. fratboy!taehyung / college!taehyung

x

kim taehyung and you have an odd relationship.

you’re not even friends, really. just two friends of a friend who makes an accquaintance and happened to find themselves in a secluded class some time after 5, once most of the classes are vacant. the lecturers have their own rooms and the classes are manned by persons from the admin and they hardly ever come around until 8pm when it’s time to lock the doors.

you find out taehyung’s obsession for art and he finds out your obsession for interior design. at least yours isn’t too far off from what mechanical engineering entails.

at some point, you can even say your interests are like two streams running side by side until it mingles at one point in time.

then, you find out that he’s part of one of the most notorious fraternities for their wild parties that lasts for three days straight at the end of every semester. and oh, here’s the good part, only the popular ones get invited.

“figures why you haven’t heard of me,” you tease.

“what? no! i-i’ve heard of you, i just didn’t have the pleasure of meeting you,” his wide-eyed gaze hints at a sort of innocence his brothers lack.

you wonder how he got sucked into the frat house shenanigans.

“chill, i was kidding, i’ve been laying low anyway,” you wave a hand.

“wh-what? why?” he asks and you’re not particularly restricted to telling him the reason.

“first year, jimin and i would’ve celebrated our 4th year anniversary - if you can’t tell, we were high school sweethearts,” you laugh, chest still prickled with the kind of pain only time can heal, “but yeeun came along, he fell for her and since she’s more popular, everyone just started believing that i was the one who got in between her and jimin.”

the rage in taehyung’s eyes spread like wildfire, burning and tearing down everything in its path until you place a hand on his shoulder and he looks at you as if you’re a goddess sent to placate hades’ wrath.

“it’s chill, at least i’m one heartbreak away from finding the right one,” you say.

but taehyung finds you with puffy cheeks and pink eyes as you walk out of the bathroom. it’s no surprise and yet it is. kim yeeun spilled coffee all over your hair and shirt and the slap you give her still reverberates against the walls of the lecture hall.

your friends who came out a second later connects the two dots and nudges you towards taehyung before scurrying away, but not with a threat of ‘you better not make her cry more, kim taehyung’.

why they left you with a boy you barely know is beyond you - but perhaps it’s got to do with the fact that delta psi is in tight rivalry of beta nu, the frat jimin’s been loyal to after he broke your heart and gave his to the girl that’s been microaggressively picking on you since day one.

“i heard the red mark on kim yeeun’s face is still there,” he casually says three days after he’s been running up to you every time he sees you somewhere in the large building made for sleepless engineering students.

“it better, i almost twisted my wrist because of it,” you roll your eyes but taehyung must have known that the hostility is awkward, forced.

then, so it goes, the many instances where kim taehyung and you would be spotted laughing or walking together as if he’s the boy who mended the broken girl’s heart.

unbeknownst to them that you’re the one gradually breaking taehyung’s heart with your ‘you know what, i’ve never had a guy friend’ and ‘chill, you’re scaring my potential boyfriends!’ at parties he starts bringing you to.

“i can’t wait to see johnny again,” you confess, smile curling on your lips as you nudge taehyung’s elbow, “aren’t you curious who this johnny-from-hometown is? might be another subject of you death glares.”

surprisingly, kim taehyung doesn’t bat an eye at the mysterious mention of the name.

“i know, she’s your cat.”

he keeps on walking whilst you stop dead in your track. it doesn’t even take fiv seconds to notice your lack of presence on his side before he stops too, twirling around and shooting you and arched eyebrow.

“but i’ve never told you that before,” you feel your own brows coming together in a frown.

“you mumble in your sleep,” taehyung points out as if it’s the most obvious thing to do.

“oh,” you whole heartedly believe him, falling back into pace with him.

in hindsight, you should’ve probably been more careful when you talk about sleeping and being in each other’s presence whilst that activity was happening. even if it was just taehyung helping out a drunk and offering her shelter until morning comes.

“yoo jia heard it with her own ears! they’re sleeping together!” is what’s been circulating around at the start of the week while you’re stretching your arms over your head as a yawn escapes you.

“i don’t wanna be that person, but,” jennie kim loops her arm around yours when she finds you in the hallway, heading to your shared class, “are you and kim taehyung finally dating?”

“finally?” you feel the muscles on your face contort into an ugly frown, “wait, does that mean there’s been speculations we were gonna end up dating? what?”

and that’s how you find out the rumor that starts up a fire throughout your whole class. by noon, it gets almost impossible to ignore those prying eyes that sticks with you as you stand in front of taehyung, “did you know? about the rumor?”

“can’t say i didn’t,” he shrugs.

“god-” you smack his arm and he dramatically raise his shoulders in brace for impact, “-damn it, why didn’t you tell me?!”

“what good would it do if i told you? ah! cuddlebugs, you’re hurting me!” his voice is exceptionally loud.

“c-cuddlebugs? what the-” you’re rendered frozen and wide-eyed by his tricks yet something in churns with butterflies.

“i’ll see you tonight, okay?” he pinches your cheek and slips past you with a sort of smirk that you’ve never seen him wear.

everything gets weirder from there after.

you become hyper aware of what kim taehyung does or say, the way he has two smiles; a pure box-ish one and a titled smirk that’s just enough to get your heart racing when paired with a rase of his eyebrows. there’s a hint of masculinity under the scent of fruity floral juul he smokes and sticks to his shirt. and his touches tingle. they tingle like a ghost of a touch lingering on the hand that he mindlessly holds to keep you from being pushed around by the wave of dancing bodies.

he laughs when you pull your hand away and crosses your arm over it, “chill, i wasn’t trying to make a pass on you, just making sure you’re still there when i turn around.”

you’ve had records of getting lost in the crowd when it comes to parties - and when are parties not crowded?

taehyung hands you an unopened can of beer and you look at him questioningly because he always pops it open for you, “you don’t trust me to hold your hand but you want me to open your drink for you?”

there’s an underlying brazenness in his teasing tonight, as if he’s mistakenly decided to wear a cloak of a frat boy than the kim taehyung you’ve known and loved.

as a friend that is.

“whatever,” you gulp down the drink with reckless abandon, appreciating the bitterness that somehow roots you to reality despite the impending buzz that’ll drive you away from said reality.

and then you’re back to your old self, laughing and joking around in that bench outside of taehyung’s frat house, sitting a little too closely until your thighs are perched on top of his and his hand is drawing circles on the outside of your thigh.

“i don’t like that,” you confess, “the way you’re trying to act all sexy and hot,” and without any warning, you take his face in your palms, squishing his cheeks, not enough to hurt but enough to make his eyes go wide with surprise and that innocent glint in them, “now, that’s better. that’s my taehyung.” 

then his hand travels up from your thigh to your cheek, caressing the heated area of your face with his knuckles, “but if i’m the cute, childish taehyung, you won’t see me as a man.”

“man schman,” you huff, hands falling into your lap, “a real man won’t feel the need to act masculine to get a girl.”

“then... if i tell you i-”

and that’s when you lean so far back, almost hitting your head against the metal edge in the process if taehyung hadn’t caught you in time. eyes screwed shut and mouth partly open, you mumble, “man... schman...” 

taehyung shakes his head, a smile playing on his lips. he unzips his hoodie and wraps it around you - that’s another one he won’t get back, but he doesn’t mind as much because- 

“you’re lucky i like you.”

[stargaze-sunflower]

More Dewey and Louie bonding!!! Hope you like it!!! :]

Summary: After the events of Emma Glamour's party, Dewey and Louie have a lot to talk about.

Ao3 Link     Word Count: 4138

Louie really should’ve known that things wouldn’t go according to plan, but despite everything that had happened to him and his family, he had still managed to hang on to some hope. He was sure that he’d collapse into a puddle of despair and shame if he ever let go of hope entirely, and that wasn’t the type of life that he wanted to live. It was hard sometimes, because hope was fragile, and Louie himself felt easily breakable, most days.

He hadn’t wanted his scheme to be as vulnerable as he was. Seeing the angles was supposed to be the thing that he was good at, the one thing that was his. In a family full of adventurers, he’d thought that he had finally found his place as the strategy guy, as someone the others could trust to be on top of things. Someone that they could rely on, rather than someone they merely tolerated.

Emma Glamour’s party had been a chance to prove himself. A chance to finally show that his schemes weren’t all dangerous and harmful and worthy of getting him kicked out of the family selfish. He had wanted so badly for it to be a success. He’d thought that if he just tried hard enough – Scrooge was always telling him to just try – then it would all work out fine, and he’d finally stop feeling like there was something wrong with him. He’d stop feeling like everyone was always trying to fix the parts of him that they didn’t like.

It was a failure. But then, his schemes usually were, weren’t they? They brought nothing but bad things – caused nothing but trouble. At least The Caballeros got to play at the party, even though they hadn’t made the It List. Even though Louie had done nothing right.

Dewey had been the one to save the day, in the end – ever the hero – and Louie was proud of him, he was, but there was still a pit in his stomach growing bigger and heavier and harder to ignore.

.

(“You’re nothing new.

You’re not original.

There is nothing ‘It’ about you.

So tell me, why would I ever listen to you?”)

.

Louie sighed deeply, just the memory of the words enough to send sharp, aching pains bursting in his chest. He gripped the glass of water in his hand a little tighter, trying desperately to ground himself. But just like the rest of the ideas he’d had that night, it didn’t quite work out.

Currently he was standing behind the desert table, leaning against the wall and trying to pretend that he wasn’t hiding. Quite a few of the party guests had left already, but some had stayed to listen to the music that José and Panchito were playing – Uncle Donald had gone to sit at a table to talk with Daisy – and to enjoy the free food. Multiple people had even gone up to Dewey to congratulate him for winning the approval of Ms. Glamour. Something that Louie had not been able to do, at all, in any capacity. But he was fine. It was all fine.

He took a deceptively calm drink of water, trying to stop the rising wave of emotion that threatened to clog his throat and spill out of his eyes. He supposed he could only lie to himself for as long as he could ignore his feelings, and he was admittedly having trouble with that, at the moment.

“Thirsty?” a voice asked brightly, way too close to his right ear, and Louie almost choked on the water he hadn’t been able to swallow yet.

Dewey was standing next to him, smiling widely and rocking slightly on his feet, probably still absolutely ecstatic about the attention he’d received for his yo-yo ‘tricks’.

“Did you sneak up on me on purpose?” Louie asked, half accusing and half resigned.

“No,” Dewey said, grabbing a cookie and taking a bite out of it. “I called your name, like, twice before I got here.”

“Oh,” Louie said, any other possible response having fled his brain.

Louie set his glass of water down on the table in front of him as Dewey popped the rest of his cookie into his mouth, finishing it in record time.

“Still aren’t listening to me, huh?” Dewey teased, although there was something genuinely questioning in his tone.

The knot in Louie’s stomach twisted sharply at the reminder of how he’d treated his brother that night. Dewey hated feeling like he wasn’t being listened to, or acknowledged, or seen as useful. Louie knew that, and still he’d spent most of the night ignoring everything Dewey had tried to suggest.

“I guess not,” Louie replied, guilt tangling in his stomach and crawling up his throat. “I’m really— I just—”

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his suit, but it didn’t bring the same comfort as his hoodie might have.

“I…I’m sorry,” Louie finally managed, and he felt like it wasn’t enough, like he it would never be enough. “I didn’t mean to— Well, I did, but…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Dewey said, waving him off, and Louie glanced at him in nervous surprise. “I mean, I’m not gonna say that it didn’t hurt, because it did. You know how I am with, uh, that sort of thing.”

Dewey rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, and the guilt in his stomach turned into sharp stabs.

.

(“Look, your plans, your schemes, they only lead to bad things for your family.”)

.

“But you’re not normally like this, all high-strung and whatever, which— which makes me think that maybe something else is bothering you,” Dewey continued, and Louie gaped at him in shock, his hands falling out of his pockets to hang still at his sides. Dewey’s brow was furrowed, and he was staring at the table in front of them intensely, obviously in deep thought. “And that doesn’t make it okay, but like, it makes it understandable? I don’t know.”

Dewey shrugged, shaking himself a bit before turning towards Louie with a little smile.

“I forgive you, you know, in case you need to hear it,” Dewey told him, and there was no trace of a lie in his eyes or deception in his voice.

Louie had to blink back tears at that, at the pure, sincere way that Dewey had just spoken to him, at the way he just understood Louie and his emotions, and how he was willing to forgive the mistake he’d made, especially when he already felt terrible about it. Dewey was his brother, who could apparently tell when something was bothering him, and Louie was both intimidated by that and thankful for it.

.

(“If you want to be a part of this family, you’ve gotta stop.”)

.

“Thanks, Dew,” Louie said, his voice softer and calmer than it had been in hours.

“No problem,” Dewey said happily, and he reached up to ruffle Louie’s hair before he could protest.

Louie glared sideways as he fixed his hair, not actually all that mad. Dewey just grinned at him, but a few seconds later it softened around the edges, and something concerned crept into his expression. Louie winced.

“You wanna talk about what was going on with you tonight?” Dewey prompted, nudging his shoulder lightheartedly, and Louie huffed.

“Not really, no,” Louie said.

“You sure?”

He turned to Dewey with his beak open, fully intending to repeat himself with confidence and grace, but the words died in his throat. Dewey was looking at him too honestly, too concerned, too ready to listen to him when Louie had done nothing but ignore him for the whole night, and it was enough to change his mind. Dewey deserved an explanation, and Louie was tired of lying, anyway. Because apparently - according to Emma Glamour - he wasn’t very good at it.

“No,” Louie admitted, voice strained as he practically forced the words out. “This is just… I really wanted things to be perfect, and I guess it kind of got out of hand.”

Him and Dewey took a moment to take in the messy room and remember the hostage situation. None of that had been Louie’s fault, really; sometimes it felt like chaos just followed their family around wherever it went.

“Why was it so important to you?” Dewey asked eventually. “Like why tonight, you know?”

Louie frowned deeply, brow furrowing as he tried to think of how best to explain how he felt.

“You know how Huey is super into being a Junior Woodchuck?” Louie asked, deciding to just wing it, and Dewey gave him a strange look, but nodded. “Okay, so, that’s his thing. He wouldn’t mind if we did it with him – he even wants us to, sometimes – but if we were better at it than he was, I think he’d lose his mind.”

Dewey chuckled a little, and that was enough to tell Louie that he was still listening, so he barreled onward.

“And then there’s— You’ve got that talk show thing, Dewey Dew-night, and that’s something that’s yours. But if I made my own talk show, like, uh— like Lunar Louie or something—” Dewey snorted, and Louie couldn’t help but smile a bit, even as he kept going almost frantically. “If I did that, and my show was more popular, then you’d feel like you weren’t— you’d feel bad.”

Louie trailed off into silence, and Dewey didn’t try to fill it, possibly sensing that he wasn’t quite done, but needed some time to think.

“I… I do schemes. That’s my thing. It’s basically the only thing I can do—”

.

(”This is the one thing I’m good at. Why can’t you see?”)

.

“—and then you kept telling me that you could do more to help, but I was scared that if I let you, then you’d be better at it than me, and if you’re better at scheming then me then what even— What else can I do? I’m not—"

.

(“You’re nothing new.

You’re not original—“)

  .

“I don’t know,” Louie finished. “I just— I wanted to prove myself I guess.”

“To who?” Dewey sounded like he’d been punched in the stomach. Louie avoided looking at him.

“Everyone, I guess. Mom, Uncle Donald, you.” Louie put his hands back in his pockets, attempting to conceal their trembling. “Myself, most of all.”

“Louie, you— you don’t have to prove anything—”

“But I do!” Louie whipped around to face him, suddenly irrationally angry. He was surprised to find that the tears in his own eyes were reflected in Dewey’s. “Our family are a bunch of adventurers, Dewey. That’s what they do. And I can’t— I—”

Dewey reached out for him, but Louie backed up a step, not ready to be comforted.

“Uncle Scrooge thinks I’m lazy, and Mom thinks that I— that all I do is cause bad things to happen, and I just— I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” Louie said, his voice ending in a broken whisper, and he pulled his hand out of his pocket for the sole purpose of wiping at his overflowing eyes. “I can’t do anything right. Or—or good.”

Dewey stared at him for a few long, agonizing seconds, and then his trademark expression of determination took over his face, stronger and more serious than Louie had seen it in a while.

Oh, boy.

“C’mon,” Dewey said, leaving no room for argument, and he grabbed Louie’s sleeve on his way by, dragging him along behind him.

Louie glanced nervously around them as he was tugged along, taking note of Uncle Donald, who was still sitting at a table with Daisy on the other side of the room. And speaking of tables—

Dewey stopped next to an empty one. Just like the others it was covered in a long white tablecloth that touched the floor, and Dewey gestured downwards pointedly. Louie raised an eyebrow, which was probably a strange expression on someone who had just been crying, but whatever. Dewey just gestured again, a bit more forceful, and Louie sighed before dropping to his hands and knees. He crawled under the tablecloth and Dewey followed, letting it fall back into place behind him when they were both in.

They were left sitting in soft lighting, on a squeaky-clean floor – Daisy probably wouldn’t have settled for anything less – and Louie had to admit that it was less overwhelming than standing at the edges of a large room feeling sorry for himself; feeling sorry for everything.

“Okay, look,” Dewey said, sitting there in his DJ Daft Duck suit and still managing to sound like he meant business. “You remember when Uncle Donald was racing against Uncle Gladstone ‘cause of that weird luck vampire thing?”

Louie could only nod.

“And he was gonna give up, but you stopped him. You kept him going. You inspired him,” Dewey said, every word said clearly and sincerely. “You’re good at that.”

“Yeah, but—”

“And what about that time with Mom,” Dewey continued, “when you were able to convince her to go back to help Uncle Scrooge and the others stop the moon invading? We may never have left that island – or gotten home in time to help – if it weren’t for you giving her a pep talk.”

Louie exhaled shakily, remembering how stressful that whole situation had been. Dewey grabbed his hand and held it gently between them, even as he kept talking, looking at him with warm eyes.

“You helped Webby when she lost her optimism, and you were able to make her start believing in people again. You were able to help her remember that there are good people,” Dewey said, and he squeezed his hand, smiling gently as Louie blinked against the moisture in his eyes. “There are good people, Lou, and you’re one of them.”

Louie sniffled, wiping at his face with his free hand as he avoided eye contact.

“It doesn’t always feel that way,” Louie said.

“I’ll believe it when you can’t,” Dewey said simply, and Louie finally looked at him.

Dewey was staring back at him with a slightly nervous expression, like he wasn’t sure if he was saying the right things or not, like he was worried that he wasn’t being helpful. The knot in Louie’s stomach and the pain in his chest finally abated, and he tried out a small smile.

“Thanks, Dew,” Louie said softly, and he wasn’t feeling up to a full-on hug just yet, so he leaned his side against Dewey’s and squeezed the hand he was still holding.

Dewey exhaled quietly, his shoulders dropping as he relaxed.

“Anytime,” Dewey told him, and he sounded like he meant it.

They sat in silence for a few seconds, the sounds of the party muffled through the expensive tablecloth. There they were in fancy clothes, at a fancy – wrecked – party, and they were hiding under the table like they used to hide in clothes racks at the store as little kids. Louie suddenly couldn’t help but chuckle a bit.

Dewey turned to look at him, possibly a little confused, but as soon as their eyes met, they both lost it. They sat there giggling on and off for at least two minutes, and every time they’d almost calmed down, they’d make eye contact and burst out laughing again.

“This isn’t funny,” Louie said helplessly, wiping away tears of mirth. “We shouldn’t be— Why are we laughing?”

“Would you rather cry?” Dewey asked, grinning like a loon.

“I am crying, Dewey.”

“That’s good crying, though,” Dewey pointed out. “You’re smiling at the same time.”

Louie shoved at him playfully, and Dewey started giggling again, swaying with the force of Louie’s push before popping back upright.

“I could comment on how weak of a shove that was, but I’m not going to,” Dewey said, with a teasing lilt to his voice, and Louie rolled his eyes.

“How gracious of you,” Louie said, words dripping with sarcasm. “I’ve been insulted enough for one night, anyways.”

Louie leaned back on his hands, finally feeling relaxed and mostly at ease. It was amazing what Dewey could do, really, when he put his mind to it.

And speaking of his brother, Dewey was suddenly being creepily silent. Louie turned to check on him with a raised brow, and Dewey was looking back at him with confusion and a sort of vague concern.

“What do you mean?” Dewey asked, dead serious, and Louie blinked.

“Uh, what do you mean what do I mean?”

“The insult thing you just mentioned,” Dewey clarified. “What did you mean by that?”

“Oh,” Louie said simply, trying to buy himself time to think of how to distract Dewey from the subject, which his brother was picking up on, if the narrowed eyes were anything to go by.

“Don’t lie to me,” Dewey said, somewhere between a plea and a warning.

“Look, it’s nothing—”

.

(“You’re nothing new—")

.

Louie cleared his throat and tried again. “It doesn’t matter anymore,” he said. “It’s not even worth mentioning.”

“Your hands are shaking, Louie,” Dewey said pointedly, and he grabbed the one nearest to him to hold it once again. Louie huffed in frustration and glared at his traitorous appendages.

“I’m doing jazz hands,” Louie deadpanned, and Dewey snorted.

“No, you’re not.”

Louie sighed resignedly, and Dewey squeezed his hand.

“Tell me?” Dewey asked, and Louie forced himself to meet his wide, pleading eyes. “Please?”

Louie groaned, tilting his head back to stare at the bottom of the table, because now he absolutely had to explain himself, or Dewey would go around looking like a kicked puppy for days. Louie couldn’t have that on his conscience; it already had enough to worry about.

“You remember when I went to talk to Glamour, right?” Louie began, sitting up, and Dewey nodded. “Well, she definitely had some interesting things to say about what she thought of me.”

Dewey’s hand tensed in his. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“…Like what?”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Louie rushed to say. Emma Glamour was one of the people that Dewey looked up to, and he was reluctant to crush his dreams, and maybe even a little afraid that he would agree with her. “It— It wasn’t anything that isn’t true.”

“What did she say?” Dewey reiterated, and Louie figured that he couldn’t put it off for any longer.

“Just— Just that I was, uh—"

.

(“You’re nothing new.

You’re not original.

There is nothing ‘It’ about you.

So tell me, why would I ever listen to you?”)

.

“—that I was nothing special. And not worth her time, or— or even worth listening to,” Louie said haltingly, doing his best to pretend that he wasn’t bothered. “She had me all figured out, and she— she didn’t think that what she saw was very impressive. Or ‘It’, as she put it.”

There was complete and total silence after he finished talking, Dewey unnaturally still next to him. Louie breathed slowly and deliberately, trying to calm his nerves.

Without warning, and certainly without grace, Dewey suddenly stood ramrod straight next to him, shooting up so quickly that Louie dropped his hand and leaned back in surprise. Being under a table, of course, Dewey didn’t make it very far before bumping into the bottom of it, hitting it with such force that the whole thing rattled; Louie very faintly heard a fork fall to the ground a few feet away. Dewey dropped back down onto his knees with a grunt of pain, rubbing the top of his head.

“Dewey, what the—”

“She can’t talk to you like that!” Dewey exclaimed angrily, already changing course to crawl out from under the table. “She just— I can’t believe—"

Dewey continued his nonsensical furious rambling as he made it out from under the table, Louie following behind him frantically, getting the vibe that his brother was on his way to do something stupid.

“Dewey, wait—” Louie grabbed him by the wrist, keeping him from storming off. “She was well within her rights to call me out on trying to con her—”

“There’s calling you out, and then there’s straight up mean—"

“She was right, though, okay?” Louie said desperately, his arm shaking with the effort it was taking to hold Dewey back. “I needed to be taken down a notch.”

“You’re eleven, Louie! None of what she said was helpful, she just— She’s an adult and she said that to a kid!”

Dewey was still attempting to barrel onwards, and he was very slowly making progress. Louie groaned in frustration and leaned even farther backwards to try and slow him down.

“Okay, but— Dewey, what are you even gonna do?” Louie asked. “You can’t just flat-out attack her at her own party, and Uncle Donald already yelled at her ‘cause of Daisy—”

“She’s about to see my yo-yo skills way up close and personal,” Dewey said, almost muttering, and he stumbled a bit from the persistence of Louie’s grip on his arm.

“Dewey, stop,” Louie said sternly, although there was an element of begging in there, too. “Dewey, please.”

His brother finally came to a halt, and though it felt like they’d been going for hours, they’d only made it about five feet from the table they’d been hiding under. Dewey turned to look at him, his gaze fiercely protective and maybe a little lost, and Louie kept his grip on his sleeve, just in case.

“It’s not worth it,” Louie said quietly but clearly.

“Yes, it—”

“It wouldn’t change anything,” Louie amended, and then he tried for a smile, although he was sure it looked awkward. “And Huey would be disappointed in us if you got arrested.”

“Huey would already be throwing punches,” Dewey said, but some of the tension in his shoulders was gone.

“Please,” Louie said lightly, “he’d give a stern lecture at worst.”

“Agree to disagree,” Dewey shot back, shrugging a little, a small smile forming on his face, reluctant but persistent.

Louie huffed a laugh, looking around nervously to see if anyone was staring at them. He ended up making eye contact with Uncle Donald, who was staring at them with his brow furrowed in concern, already halfway out of his seat. Louie grinned, infusing as much reassurance as he could into it, and gave a thumbs up with the hand that wasn’t latched onto Dewey’s wrist like an octopus.

Their Uncle hesitated for a moment, obviously conflicted, but then he sunk back into his chair, shooting them a look that clearly said ‘Be Good’. Louie sighed in relief and turned his attention back to Dewey.

“You sure you don’t want me to avenge you?” Dewey asked, a bit teasing but with an undercurrent of truth. If Louie wanted him to, he really would give Emma Glamour a piece of his mind.

But Louie had had enough drama for the day – maybe even for the rest of the week – and just knowing that Dewey was ready and willing to defend him made him feel lighter and happier than he had been in a while.

“Nah,” Louie said, finally releasing his hold on his brother. “I think we’ve caused enough chaos for one night.”

“Barely,” Dewey said jokingly, and Louie rolled his eyes.

After a moment of comfortable silence, just enjoying each other’s presence, Louie couldn’t help but yawn. Dewey glanced at him in amusement.

“Tired?” Dewey asked, and Louie just shrugged. “D’you wanna leave now? I think Launchpad would come get us if we called him.”

“What about Uncle Donald?”

“I don’t think he’d mind if we left without him,” Dewey replied, jerking his head to indicate where their Uncle was sitting with Daisy, listening to her talk with rapt attention. “He seems pretty busy.”

“He’d freak if we left without telling him, though.”

“Yeah.”

“…So who’s gonna tell him?” Louie asked, and Dewey huffed.

“Why can’t we do it together?”

“Because one of us has to call Launchpad.”

“We can do that together, too,” Dewey said, beginning to grin.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Efficiency, Dewford,” Louie shot back, already pulling his phone out of his pocket.

“Ugh, you sound like Huey,” Dewey complained, but his tone was light.

“One of us has to,” Louie said, dialing Launchpad’s number.

Dewey stared at him as the phone rang, and Louie raised a single eyebrow as he stood with it held up to his ear. Dewey groaned.

“Fine.” Dewey threw his arms in the air, turning away to hide his smile. “I’ll go tell Uncle Donald we’re leaving.”

Dewey walked off, and Louie finally allowed himself to grin fully. Nothing could quite cheer him up like lighthearted bickering with one of his siblings, and no one could pointlessly argue for as long as Dewey and Louie could. It was something that Louie felt was special; something that was theirs. Maybe it was nothing new, but it mattered.

And that was enough.

[sweetestofchaos]

ᔆᵗᵃʸ ♡ 1,950

Trope: Friends to Lovers Warning(s): NSFW. Pure smut that warms your soul. Blood. Cheating (sorry) Description: Yunho’s girlfriend hurt him again and you are there to pick up the pieces…again Paring(s): Yunho & Black!Reader

~ 𝖯𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖯𝗋𝗈𝗆𝗉𝗍 𝖬𝖾 𝖧𝗈𝖾 𝖲𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌 ~

You frown at the droplets of blood that trail from the living room to the kitchen. Shards of broken glass litter the ground and you can smell that something had been burning. If you’re count is correct and it is, this is the fifth fight in two months between Yunho and his girlfriend. You personally didn’t like her, but Yunho was head over heels for her. You didn’t understand why he liked her, sure she was pretty, but that’s all there was. Choi Heiran in your eyes is just another pretty face with a nasty personality and Yunho is too naïve to see it. You wish Yunho would call someone other than you when they fight, but you know that is never going to happen. Yunho and you go way back to his trainee days; your stepfather works for KQ Entertainment.

“Yunho?” You call out, straining your ears for any sound and you are meant with silence. You follow the trial of blood into the kitchen and your eyes widen when you see Yunho passed out on the floor surrounded by empty soju bottles. You can see that he is bleeding, but it’s hard to tell from where. “Yunho?!” You rush to his side, dropping down to your knees to check if he is even breathing. Thankfully, you can hear soft snores coming out of his mouth and you sigh in relief. You give him a quick once over and see that his right palm is cut, and he has some bruising on his jaw. Standing up, you grab a clean dish cloth and wet it with cold water before you get back down to Yunho’s side and clean him up. Yunho stirs but doesn’t fully wake and you frown once again. Yunho is way too big for you to carry by yourself.

“Yunho…” You shake his shoulder a little roughly and he doesn’t move. “Yunho!” You flick his nose and Yunho groans. “Come on boy, get up!”

Slowly Yunho’s eyes flutter open and he winces in pain. Sitting up with your help, Yunho wines as he looks around. His eyes land on you and he is deeply confused. “Y/N? W-what are you doing here?” His words are slurred as he stares at your through silted eyes.

“You called me here dumbass. Now come on and get up.” You slide yourself under Yunho’s left arm and count to three as the two of you start to stand. Yunho sways and you tighten your hold around his slim waist. “Can you make it to the bedroom, or should I just leave you on the couch?”

“I can make it…fuck my hand hurts!” Yunho lifts his right arm to get a better look at his hand and frowns. “Ashii…” You choose to ignore Yunho for now and take one step at a time towards his bedroom. After what feels like forever, you manage to make it to the bedroom, and you set Yunho down carefully.

“I’m gonna grab some gauze and disinfectant. Do you want pain reliever?”

“Um…” Yunho looks down at his hand and nods his head.

“I’ll be right back.” You walk into the bathroom to grab everything you need to take care of Yunho for the rest of the night and when you walk back into the bedroom, Yunho has already stripped himself of his shirt and jeans.  Setting everything down on the bed you quickly grab him a fresh set of pjs to sleep in and sit beside him. “Care to share what the hell happened tonight?” You set Yunho’s hand in your lap and he bites his lip trying to remember why he was in the kitchen with a cut hand.

“Heiran was late coming home, so I gave her a call to see where she was at.” Yunho frowns as he remembers the phone call. “She was out at the club with some friends.”

“The club?” You repeat in shock. “But isn’t today-”

“She forgot that it was our anniversary…” You bite your lip to keep from saying anything and Yunho notices your silence. “We got into a fight over the phone and honestly I don’t really remember too much after that. I started drinking…I think I fell and hit the coffee table maybe?”

“That would explain the bruise on your face and the broken glass in the living room. I think you landed on a shot glass or something and cut your hand.” You shrug your shoulders and Yunho winces when you wrap his hand tightly. “When you called me, you were crying and slurring your words.”

“Sorry for always dragging you into this mess.” Yunho’s voice is soft, and you can hear the tears trying to escape in his throat. Cleaning up the used and unused supplies you head out to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water for Yunho.

“Here.” You toss the bottle of water at Yunho as you enter his room. Yunho mutters a sad thanks before he chugs half the bottle and takes his pain pills. “Get some rest, okay?” You move to tuck Yunho into bed, and he takes hold of your wrist. You stare into his face and raise an eyebrow, “What?”

“Stay with me?”

You shake your head, “Yunho-”

“I don’t want to be alone…” Yunho tugs you onto the bed so that you are kneeling beside him. “Just lay with me.” You shake your head once again and Yunho frowns. He places his bandaged hand on the back of your neck and pulls you close; you can feel his breath on your lips. Your foreheads touch and you close your eyes willing yourself to speak up.

“Y-you’re drunk Yun-” His lips are on yours and you want to push him away. Your mind is screaming at you to push him away and run out the apartment, but your body won’t allow it. Your hands tangle in his black strands, you mouth moves against his like a fish swims in water and your mind is filled with only thoughts of Yunho. The hand on the back of your neck grasp a fist full of your braids and you moan as Yunho yanks your head back and attacks your neck in wet open-mouthed kisses. Hearing you moan makes Yunho groan and he bites the delict skin of your throat, sucking harshly as he tries to leave a mark on your earthly skin. Yunho grabs you right leg and pulls you on top of him, the warmth of your body against his is soothing and makes every nerve in his body come alive. His hands pull your shirt over your head and he easily unclasp your bra behind your back. His hands are so large and hot as they cup your breasts, and you press yourself against his touch wanting more.

“You look so pretty, God you are fucking…” Yunho’s voice trails off as you start to grind against him, and he closes his eyes. The two of you roll around losing more and more clothing as time passes and soon Yunho is between your legs rolling a condom onto his thick and veiny dick. “I’m going to enjoy this…” Yunho slips his arms under your legs and tosses your legs over his shoulders. “Ready for this baby?” Yunho doesn’t even give you the chance to respond before he snaps his hips forward and bottoms out in seconds. The both of you moan from the feeling, him from the sudden warmth and you from the stretch that he offers your walls. You can’t remember the last time that you ever felt this full, and you don’t think anyone else will make you feel this way again.

Yunho wastes no time fucking into you, his voice thick with lust and pleasure as he grunts and moans your name. Your acrylic nails sink into the skin of his triceps and Yunho’s name rips from your lips. His name on your tongue makes your heart speed up and your walls clench around him. Your body is twitching; your breath is labored, and your vision is starting to double. The amount of pleasure is bewitching and Yunho smirks to himself. Looking down at you underneath him, he licks his lips and lets one of your legs drop to wrap around his waist. “F-fuck!” The new angle is just what Yunho wants, and he picks up his speed, the headboard of the bed banging against the wall in a steady rhythm.

Your climax hits with no warning, you walls squeeze tightly around Yunho and you scream as you cum around him. “Oh yes! S-shit baby…” Yunho groans and keeps thrusting into you. You beg for him to let your other leg down, you need a new position, your legs are quivering. Hearing your pleas, Yunho pulls out and flips you onto your stomach before he slips back in. Having your ass press against his lower stomach makes Yunho see stars, how many times has he dreamed of fucking you like this? Wrapping his hand around your throat, Yunho pulls you up, so that you are on your hands and knees. “You feel f-fucking…goooooddd!” His praise comes out in pants and groans as he continues to fuck into you without any restraint.

“Y-Yunho! D-don’t stop!” You moan feeling your second climax starting to build quickly.

“Never! I-I never st-stop!” The promise of never-ending pleasure goes right to pussy and the both of you curse as you come for a second time. “That’s it, baby...that’s it!” Yunho’s grip on your hips tightens and his thrusts start to get a little sloppy. Reaching down between your legs, Yunho starts to rub small and fast circles on your clit, and you are seeing stars. You try to push his hand away, but Yunho chuckles. “No, no baby. Come for me…Give me one more good squeeze and we can sleep.”

Tears a rolling down your face, your pussy is beat and needs a break, but it’s so greedy. Steading yourself, you start to throw yourself back against Yunho and he nearly comes right there and then. Yunho lets you take control and matches your timing as you chase your final release together. It doesn’t take much for you to come and Yunho is right behind you, the condom catching his cum as he spills everything he has to offer. Panting, you lower yourself onto your stomach and Yunho shivers when his dick is no longer embraced by your warmth. Pulling the condom off, Yunho ties the end and toss it in the trashcan in the bathroom. Jumping back into bed, Yunho pulls you into his arms and throws the blankets over the two of you.

Yunho buries his face in your braids and breathes deeply before he yawns, “I could get use to this.” He mummer to himself and you’re already sound asleep, missing his words. Yunho starts to nod off, but he quickly wakes himself up. Carefully he pulls himself free from you and grabs his phone from his jeans on the floor. Yunho pulls up Heiran’s contact information and shoots her a text before he puts his phone on do not disturb. Setting his phone on the nightstand, Yunho gets back in bed and rests his head on the small of your back as he wraps his arms around you once again. “…I hope you don’t regret this in the morning. Y/N I want to give us a try…” Yunho yawns and snuggles into you, closing his eyes finally letting sleep take over.

On the nightstand Yunho’s phone silently alerts him to a message from Heiran.

Yunho – I want your shit out of my place by the end of the week. I’m done.

Heiran - Whatever

[smoochi-dazai]

can i request a fluffy dazai x reader,, where dazai & reader celebrate after a successful mission or something,, and they go to a bar to drink,, and reader is actually the type of person who gets drunk really fast so dazai needs to take care of them and reader ends up confessing to dazai. reader is like,, flirty + giggly drunk. bonus if dazai teases them about it next morning hehe,, ty in advance!!

✿ “ Love & Champaign ” ✿

—> Bungo Stray Dogs, Dazai Osamu | Reader

—> Sweet | Oneshot

—> Description | after one too many drinks for the celebration, you find yourself in a daze while staring at Dazai. Slurred flirts lead to a confession, will you handle the embarrassment? 

—> Little note | not gonna lie, this is like my... my favourite so far.i got carried away tonight haha. 3.8k words! HhhH I got too distracted by cuteness, it’s almost 2am. I started this at 10pm I think. Please enjoy! Sorry if it’s a mess 💕 came from the heart and I never plan ahead for this stuff haha. I just write it as it flows from my soul. 

Shifting her weight, the women of familiarity sat comfortably next to Dazai on a tall wooden stool. Her beautiful eyes seemed to grasp onto his heart as she held an angelic appearance. That far off look in her dilated pupils due to the dim lighting, a thoughtless expression purely in her eyes alone- he found it unimaginably attractive. Observing each small detail from the flush on her cheeks to the strands of hair framing her face perfectly.

That woman is you.

The same very person who was invited by none other then Dazai himself to have a drink together, a celebration for a hard task full day at work.

“ So, How come you ordered an extra glass of champagne? ” You inquired, “ Did you invite someone to come drink with us? ”

Glancing to your right, the bartender was the first to gently set the glass half-full of rather expensive wine on the counter you sat at. He was friendly, much older than you or Dazai by appearance. Without a word, he set yours and Dazais glass’s down before leaving you two on your own.

“ It’s for a friend, he won’t be showing up tonight. ” Dazai muttered softly.

“ If he won’t be here, then how come you bought the drink? ” You pushed on for some kind of answer to satisfy the curiosity, looking away from the mysterious drink. Your eyes now focused on Dazai, he held a faint smile while staring at his glass of alcohol. Eyes downcast, appearing to be lost in his thoughts.

As his lips part, Dazai lets out a gentle sigh. Opening his mouth more to find words to reach you, nothing came out. Shutting it again, Dazai raised his hand to the glass, however— instead of picking it up to taste the alcoholic drink, a slight chime echoed through the bar from Dazai flicking the glass once. The spherical ice began to bob up and down in the glass, vibrations from the clash gave him a familiar sense of nostalgia.

Finally, he spoke up.

“ Odasaku. He, Ango and I would often meet here to talk. Those days are long gone now, however. ”

Something in Dazais tone seemed off, you were all too aware of his masks to hide the scars of his past. It was tough, you knew it was— not only for him but you as well. Whenever you’d try to convince him to vent his pain, he’d laugh it off and ask what you were talking about.

Something about those situations always made you hurt, the feeling of uselessness would grasp your heart. Making it almost hard to breathe, the feeling of being unable to help Dazai when his eyes held so much pain he’d try to hideaway. It wasn’t healthy— you wanted to help him but never found yourself capable of doing.

Staying silent, the two of you seemed more distant than ever. In an attempt to clear the atmosphere, you thought of a silly idea that may help. Sliding your drink closer to Odasakus, you found yourself tap the two glasses against each other. As a form of cheers to Odasaku even though he wasn’t quite there to see. The sound of two glasses made Dazai lift his head, staring at you in slight confusion and bewilderment.

“ Cheers,” You exclaim in a hushed tone, “ I never got to meet you. But from all the stories I hear from Dazai, you were a brilliant man. ”

Speechless, Dazai’s gaze leaves your back as soon as you begin to turn around. His own flush of blush began to sink into his skin, thinking over your odd interaction with his past friend. Lifting his drink, a warm smile met his lips.

“ Hey, how about a toast? ” Dazais voice caught your attention, lifting your glass to his.

“ Sure, what’ll it be for this time? ” Assuming it’ll be for your hard day of work at the detective's agency, it somehow didn’t surprise you with what he had said next.

“ To the Stray Dogs. ”

Dazais features held an enchanting smile, cheeks rose while a faint flush could be spotted. Not enough to notice unless you’re close, along with the lighting it was hard to point out. He seemed to genuinely be enjoying himself, just you— him and don’t forget Odasaku.

“ Before we do that, give me a second. ”

You seemed to confuse Dazai more by the minute, yet it seemed to amuse him the more you did so. It wasn’t common for something to surprise that man. It gave him a refreshing chill.

Still holding up your glass, you carefully reach over for Odasakus as well. Lifting it, both hands were now full. Your smile looked ridiculous at this point from the amount of sheer joy. It started to hurt honestly, but you didn’t mind at all. Preparing to have a toast, both glasses were held high for Dazai to join you on the toast in celebration. After a moment of silence, Dazai pushed his glass forward in the air. Hearing the clatter between three glasses, more nostalgia hit him.

“ To the stray dogs! ” / “ To the stray dogs. ” You both say in unison.

Mismatching smiles were viable as you set Odasakus drink back down before downing yours a little too quickly. Meanwhile, Dazai takes a small sip of his, feeling the burning sensation of beer rush down his system.

Both Dazai and you were always pretty close friends within the agency, maybe it was because you somehow tolerated his nonsense without having to smack him. He didn’t find you that interesting from afar, yet now he can never get that side glanced look out of his head from before. You were something he adored, something he found as a sort of coping mechanism from the pain he truly felt within his hollow heart. He never saw you as something similar to him, you were full of life, a flame that never seemed to falter or be brushed away by the gusts of wind.

A deadly nightshade in his system that refused to leave—no matter his aggression, you were always at his side. He’d push you away, he’d raise his voice and tell you how wrong you are when you make absurd accusations of who he really is. Little did you know, they were all true. Or were you aware? Was that why you never seemed dazed by his harsh words? Either way, he knew you both wouldn’t have the chance to get any closer. Always being caught up in work was a struggle, you were just like the rest of the agency. Just a stranger to him deep down— why did the idea make his heart clench? Was his body telling himself another story then he had thought? Truth be told, he couldn’t tell what his feelings for you had been.

“ Hey... Osamu? ”

The thought of falling in love with you was odd. But at the same time, just the idea made butterflies swell up within his stomach. You were incredibly strange, but so was he.

“ Osamu~ ” You whined while leaning closer to him, scooting your stool closer and closer without him noticing. Was he that out of it?

Finally snapping out of it, the feeling of warmth brushing against his skin caught him at a somewhat vulnerable point. Gazing to the source of heat, he came to the realization you were calling his name. But not just any name, not your usual ‘Dazai’ it was his first name that escaped your plump lips. A giant pout was adorned in your features as you lean closer to his face. He lifted a hand to the part where your breath hit his neck, feeling the hairs stand.

“ Hey, stop ignoring me- Osamu! ”

As his eyes met with hers, she started giggling. Leaning away from the bandaged man known as Dazai, she smiles childishly. Both legs swing back and forth.

“ Have I ever told you how beautiful your eyes are? They’re like yummy chocolate...” You chant to yourself and him. “ You’re so handsome~ I’m almost jealous! ”

This was not common for you to be so straight forward, and going by the sudden change in attitude Dazai could only assume you’d already gotten yourself drunk. Sighing deeply, he could only pray you wouldn’t be as much of a handful as Chūya had on his off days.

Speaking of which, either you got drunk abnormally quick— or he was a little too trapped in his thoughts.

Observing your every motion, Dazai put his drink to side calmly. Never once losing his composure, an amused smirk makes his way to his lips. Oh, how he’s going to enjoy teasing you in the morning— he can only wonder how many embarrassing things he could make you say tonight.

“ Thank you, I think you’re rather beautiful yourself. ” Dazai said, the smile remaining in place which only seemed to encourage your flirts unexpectedly.

“ You say that to every girl, ” You mutter, leaning closer to him again while squinting your eyes. Feeling a little light-headed, or did you feel heavier? You couldn’t tell. “ Your smirking is ever hotter... nngh, you’re so perfect~ how do women complain about you so much. If you value that double suicide thingy, doesn’t that just mean your that much more committed? To end everything with them? ”

Dazai decided to reply with a small hum, lifting his glass and taking a sip of his leftover drink. Yours meanwhile had been empty to awhile, how did you manage to get drunk over a single glass? Or did you get another without his eyes catching you? Frankly, he didn’t care, amused with the scenario at play. Something caught his attention though, you’d always disagree with his requests for a lover's suicide while sober. But now you’re complaining about other women not wanting to do it. Does this mean you actually wouldn’t mind going to such extreme lengths with him? God, he was in for a lot tonight. He could tell.

“ You always have a cute smile, you’re talented as hell— ” your speech was replaced with a small fit of giggles, tears escaping your eyes which mildly concerned him for a moment, “ You never fail to make laugh... when I cry, you’re there for me through it all. Maybe your ability is right, you aren’t human! ”

A small laugh escapes Dazais throat at your slurred nonsense, Dazai then enlightens you on his thoughts.

“ If I’m not human,” Dazai began, shifting his body to look at your questioningly, an eyebrow lifted while the other furrowed. “ ...then what would I be, Belladonna?”

“ An angel! ”

Did he hear you right? Was he, the ex-port mafia member— titled as an angel in disguise?

You almost seemed in awe at your own words, making it twice as amusing for him. Before he could even speak, you interrupted his thoughts again.

“ Osamu? Am I allowed to be in love with an angel? Can a human fall for an angel without consequence... will you leave me behind to go to heaven by yourself? ” You questioned him in an unsure whisper, fatigue showing more than the bright red flush coating your cheeks. Those half-lidded eyes gave you away, but you seemed to still manage to keep your consciousness.

Dazai takes a moment to grasp what your spiral of words meant, was this a form of confession? Did you feel that way about him, or were they meaningless drunk words? Surely they had to be, but something about your saddened eyes ... Dazai thought of it plenty of times and found himself really picking his words carefully.

“ I’m not any kind of angel, but I’m sure you’ll find an angel to love you someday. My true nature is nothing but evil, Belladonna. I’m sorry, I can’t be your angel— even if I want too...” Dazai apologized with a more sadden tone, smiling slightly as he brushed his hand through your messy hair.

Both your stools were sat so close, you practically could lean against him safely without falling. And that’s exactly what you found yourself doing.

“ But even Lucifer was once an angel... why can’t you be mine—Osamu, if you can’t be my angel... then... ” Lifting your head off his shoulder, your lazy hands lift to cup his face.

“ Be my handsome- my.. partner in crime, my own Lucifer. ” You mutter close to his ear, something about your tone was somewhat alluring and even seductive. Shutting your eyes tightly while leaning in, your noses brushed against each other, then as you tilted your head you brush your lips against his as if asking for some kind of permission- there was hesitation for a split second. Only for your lips to connect with his forcefully, that’s what sealed the deal. Would he pull away? You desperately held onto him, though your grasp was rather weak due to alcohol in your system.

An abnormal feeling in his heart appeared again, it began to pound in his ears faster by the second— even skipping a couple of beats. What was this? Why did he feel this way, he didn’t deserve it- so why did God bless him with you. Was there a god? If he agreed, would you be willing to go to depths of hell with him, just for some silly love? No, it was more than that for you. You had genuine feelings for him, you cared for the suicidal maniac. His eyes remain open during the kiss, feeling a presence behind you. That’s when he saw a distant light at the door of Lupins bar. There stood Odasaku, smiling at him.

Was this right? Odasaku once said Dazai would never find something to fill that void in his heart. Yet his heart felt like it could burst at any second, tears began to brim his eyes while Odasakus blurry image faded. As the first tear slides down Dazais cheek, he wrapped both arms around your waist, shutting his eyes during the kiss to enjoy you. Pressing your body closer with his than ever before, the kiss deepened. It was so incredibly sloppy, but it was perfect for all its imperfections.

Even if his demons were to ever return, Dazai would protect you just as Odasaku did for him. Odasaku saved Dazai from imaginable darkness in the Mafia, even if it put him through pain- he’s met so many kinder people in the light. Meeting a new world, a world more beautiful and full of colour,

Odasaku standing there almost felt as it’s own congratulations, not to only his hard work- but he was proud of Dazai. The tears pour uncontrollably while the kiss lasted for almost a whole minute. Both pulling away, they panted together- taking each other’s breath away completely. Pulling you into his chest, Dazai combed back your hair, allowing you to rest against him for a while in blissful silence.

He couldn’t let you see him tear up like this. All he cared about now, was his pure happiness. The idea of his lonely days being brushed away now swept away with the wind. He knew this won’t cure his pain, and it hurt to remember. So all he tried to do was forget that pain for a minute, allowing you to take over his mind.

He loves you.

And now that he understood the feelings were mutual? Dazai could maybe learn to be himself more often with you around.

After a while of his deep thoughts, Dazais bandaged arm around your waist relaxed. While your body fell limp against him, you were knocked out cold. Smiling to himself, Dazai looked at the bartender's familiar smile- it was the same person who worked there from ages ago.

Taking you out for a drink wasn’t a mistake after all, though the idea of Kunikida getting pissed with you two because you’ll probably have a pretty bad hangover in the morning at work is gonna be troublesome. Guess it’s an excuse to stay home with you.

“ I’ll be your Lucifer, as long as you continue being my beautiful Belladonna. ” Smiling gently to himself, Dazai began to lift you off of him. Slipping off the stool, he changed your position. One arm was beneath your knees while the other hoisted up to your back. Holding you close to his chest, he thanked the bartender and left the bar. Three glasses were left behind on the table.

In the morning, you woke up feeling sick to your stomach. A pounding heartbeat was left ringing in your head as you sat up in your bed, when did you ever return home? Struggling to remember what happened in the bar with Dazai, you throw your legs off your bed. Lifting yourself, you began to stumble. Suddenly a buzz came from your phone, tripping over your own feet you fall into your bed again. Groaning tiredly, you felt so weak right now. What in the world? How much did you drink last night to get like this... oh yeah- the phone. Lazily throwing your hand up onto your bedside table, you search for your phone. Only for someone else to take it from you. Lifting your head from the mattress, your eyes widen at the sight of a shirtless Dazai. Feeling self-conscious you then realize you were wearing next to nothing either. Suddenly your face bursts into flames, becoming a stuttering mess.

“ Dazai- w-we didn’t do anything bad last night did we? ” You blurted out, he took notice of your embarrassment and smiles innocently.

“ Of course not, we just came to your house and I helped you strip to sleep easier~ your body is incredibly hot if I do say so myself, Belladonna. Shame you hide it all the time. ”

“ You’re one to talk Dazai, always covered in b- wait... you stripped me?! ” more flush coated your cheeks, picking up a pillow— you threaten to throw it at Dazai. Almost I’m que, your head suddenly began to pound again, throwing the pillow at his feet instead.

Concerned, Dazai rushed out of the room to get you some water. Returning to the room to find you holding your mouth and stomach while hunching over, he could only worry more while crouching down. Lifting your head gently, he held the glass of water to your lips.

“ Drink it slowly,” he instructed almost like a parent or some boyfriend, worried about your health. He guessed the teasing must be saved for later, your health is a priority to him. Unless...

Following the orders, you grasp the cup in his hand while he still assisted with a simple task. It was rather endearing, who knew Dazai could be so gentle. The water went down smoothly, feeling a little clearer in the head at least. But then suddenly you felt it begin to come back up- dashing out of your room you find your bathroom.

Dazai chases after you, finding you hunched over the Toilet gagging. It wasn’t an attractive scene, in the slightest. But he found himself smile- remembering last night.

Kneeling to your height, his hand gently caressed your back. Soothing you slightly as you confuse to gag- he remained at your side through it all. As your system felt clearer it finally ended, lifting your head from the toilet bowl, you flush the toilet. Staring nervously back at Dazai, “ I’m sorry you have to see me like this, I hope I wasn’t a handful last night. I hardly remember anything, what I do know is it gave me a massive headache though. ” You curse out loud, head refusing to give you any mercy.

“ It’s alright, I know it’s rough the first couple drinks. ” Dazai smiles, it was so sincere you couldn’t help but question what lightened his mood so much. You weren't complaining though, it made your heart flutter. “ Not only that, but you said some pretty bold things while you were drunk~ ”

Oh god. You knew it was coming- the bastard was prepared to tease you for how long now?... oh sweet god.

Dramatically throwing his arms around him, he began to wiggle.

“ You’re so handsome~ oh you’re perfect Osamu~!” He teased, enjoying how embarrassed you got. “ Be my Lucifer! You muttered in my ear, ah~ Belladonna your way with words made my heart soar. ”

“ Shut up, there is no way I said all of that to you. ”

“ Playing denial now are we, my sweet Belladonna?~ want me to continue? ” Dazai challenged, it was all playful but it still had you fuming with frustration and embarrassment.

“ Do I even have a choice? ” You frown, feeling defeated. And while you complain, the small awkward smile and blush gave away your true emotions.

“ This time, you do. ”

To your surprise, his words took you a moment to understand. Looking at him disbelief, you saw a playful smirk- that smirk was way too damn attractive yet the dangerous intent was terrifying.

“ Just kidding~ how could I let a chance like this pass up? ”

Knew it.

“ Though, I do have a question. ” Dazais tone suddenly becomes more serious, no longer as playfully and happy-go-lucky as before. Leaving you confused, until he lifted you off the ground. Pulling you into a hug, you could feel his breath against your ear.

“ If all you said is true, would you commit a lover's suicide with me someday? ” The question seemed a little too silly but a part of you couldn’t turn it down at this very moment, maybe because of how serious he seemed while saying it.

“ Maybe?... ” You whisper back weakly, unsure of yourself.

“ Let me rephrase,” Dazais grasp on you became stronger until he pushed you away a little, just enough for you to be face to face. Holding your shoulders, his arms snake around your waist instead in a split second- eyes staring deeply into yours.

“ Will you be mine? ”

In reality, he was just repeating what you had told him many times during that drunken state, but the fact he was the one to ask you out here in your home? You could faint again. Nodding with a small smile, you tried to hold back a stupid goofy grin. With that response, Dazai holds you close to him, his arms felt so secure- you couldn’t help but relax under his touch.

You two finally were official, and you were both finally happy. He found his reason to live and even received Odasakus approval. But it wouldn’t end at that, oh no.

“ You know this isn’t saving you from my teasing, yes? ” Dazai chuckles, sending shivers down your spine while expecting only the best of the worst for your fate. You were defeated, but the happiness distracted you from the cruelty of his future teasing.

“ I wouldn’t have it any other way, Dork. ”

Tags : @i-am-a-bastard @writing-for-me-at-this-point @soukokuwu 

[leviackermanscleaningbuddy]

BTS DRABBLE

Running into an ex-boyfriend is never anyone’s definition of a good time. Running into two ex-boyfriends however, is absolute and pure agony. Not to mention, you may not be entirely over either of them. And as it turns out, it’s incredibly too easy for all of you to fall back into the same destructive patterns from before-although this time, you’re not in a relationship. This time, you’re broken up. And the stakes are so much higher. 

Tags: BTS, Bangtan Boys, Bangtan Seonyendan, Bulletproof Boy Scouts,  Beyond the Scene, Namgi, BTS Drabble, BTS Angst, Kim Namjoon, Min Yoongi, Namjoon x you, Namjoon x reader, Yoongi x you, Yoongi x reader, Poly!BTS, Namgi x you, Namgi x reader

Genre: Angst

Soundtrack: Forget Me Too by Machine Gun Kelly ft. Halsey

Title: Forget You

You are slightly drunk when you run into him for the first time since the fight, and the breakup, and the ultimate madness and depression that followed. 

And to say you are unprepared to see him again is a massive understatement. 

The drink in your half filled cup sloshes over one of the edges as you try to steady yourself after literally bumping into him while leaving the kitchen, and your eyes widen and you feel your breath catch in your throat, as you glance up his tall frame, to the kind brown eyes hidden behind the lenses of glasses and the shaggy, brown hair falling over the perfect skin of his forehead. 

The things you remember so clearly about him, even after all these weeks. 

“Namjoon.” You breathe out, and then quickly cough, trying to clear the sudden pain and hoarseness from your voice. 

“(Y/N).” He offers you a slightly sad smile, but the dimples still appear in the centers of his cheeks with the small movement. “I didn’t think you’d be here.” 

“Uh, yeah.” You laugh awkwardly, trying to avoid his gaze, as you covertly glance around the crowded living room, fully of partying college students, hopeful that maybe you’ll spot an exit you can duck out of.  “Me neither.” 

“Did Heather drag you out?” Namjoon queries, slight amusement in his deep voice, as he cocks his head and looks down at you, waiting for your answer. 

It hurts that he still remembers how much you’d rather just stay at home than come to a party. 

“Yeah.” You trail off, fingers dancing nervously on the edge of your plastic cup, as you swallow hard, and Namjoon takes a hurried gulp of his drink in the sound of the silence. “Did you come alone or-” 

“No, Yoongi’s here somewhere.” Namjoon tightens his lips back into that pitying, sad smile once again, and you suddenly feel like you won’t be able to look him in the eye without feeling sick. 

You don’t want to see how much of a pathetic mess you look, reflected back in the dark irises of his eyes. 

“Okay, well-” You start to stutter out, backing away from him, hopeful that you’ll only run into one ex boyfriend tonight. One is quite enough. “I have to find Heather-” 

“You’re gonna leave before I have the chance to say hi?” 

The deep timbre of the voice in your ear, followed by the feeling of a sturdy, warm chest pressed against your back, has you swearing in your head, and your fingers crunching the flimsy plastic of your cup into a nonexistent ball of trash in your hand. 

Shit. 

“Yoongi.” You squeak out, backing up once again in Namjoon’s direction, and away from the new player in this very unwanted and very uncomfortable equation. “I didn’t know you guys would be here.” 

“Didn’t think you’d be either.” Yoongi glances over your head and shoots a look at Namjoon, before he raises a brow in your direction and reaches up to rake a hand through newly blonde hair. “Friday night parties aren’t your jam right?” 

“Like I told Namjoon-” You bristle slightly, at the mocking his tone holds, and it distracts you briefly from the pounding of your traitor heart within the walls of your chest. 

“Heather made her come.” Namjoon interjects, and  you try to ignore the fact that suddenly he’s much closer to you again, and you’re literally sandwiched between the two men you wanted to avoid more than anything. 

The men you weren’t completely over. 

Pressing your arms down at your sides, you feel as if the ink-freshly tattooed on both your wrists only days before the break up-is burning through your skin, the names there reminding you of just how much you are not over them both. 

“Well, whatever the reason-” Yoongi raises his empty red cup in your direction, and shoots you a slightly smug smile, that sends your gut twisting in your middle. “We’re all here now. Might as well have another drink.” 

******

“Is this for real?” Yoongi holds your wrist pinched in between long, cool fingers, and suddenly, he sounds a lot more sober than he had only moments before. 

You yank your hand out of his grasp, almost stumbling while doing so, but you’re helped at the last minute by the saving grace of Namjoon’s firm chest steadying you against your back. 

“No, it’s a fake tattoo.” You quip back, words slightly slurring from all the alcohol washing warm throughout your system. 

“You did that for us? Ah, jagi, that’s sweet.” Namjoon leans down, and his lips are brushing the skin on your neck when he speaks. Between that and the low husky baritone of his murmur, you feel yourself feeling dizzy, and not from the drinks. 

“I think it’s stupid.” Yoongi scoffs, rolling his eyes, as he leans toward you, hands going on either side of your body, beneath Namjoon’s arms that are wrapped around your waist. “You were supposed to forget us. That’s the opposite.” 

“I did it before we broke up.” You snap, shooting him a glare, and you’re glad you have the steady presence of Namjoon to hold you up, because when you meet Yoongi’s gaze, your knees suddenly feel weak. “I’m not an idiot.” 

“We know you’re not.” Namjoon says quietly, and there is something suddenly serious in his tone, but you can’t tell if you’re imagining things because of the alcohol. 

“Do we?” Yoongi asks, smirking down at you. 

“I really hate you.” You grind out between your teeth, hoping he doesn’t catch on to the fact that you hate them both-but not for the reasons you should. 

“Yeah? I bet you do.” The side of Yoongi’s mouth pulls up to reveal a flash of white teeth and pink gums, the start of the customary growl mixed with smirk you had become so used to seeing in your time together. 

The expression that always seemed to have your heart jumping into your throat. 

“What about you guys.” You stutter out, looking away from him, and trying to ignore the feeling of Namjoon’s exhales on your skin-warm and balmy. “You were supposed to forget me too.” 

“We tried, (Y/N). We really did.” Namjoon sighs out, and you feel his chest rise and fall against your back, and his fingers tick nervously across your hipbones, hidden beneath your shirt. “We couldn’t.” 

“Speak for yourself.” Yoongi snorts, although he won’t meet your gaze, and the way his lips are pulled into a thin straight line now, tell you that he’s lying through the pain. 

“Fine. Well-” You change the subject, desperate not to feel your heart break all over again as you look at them. You push away from Namjoon, and hold up the card key between your fingers. “Are we gonna stay out here all night? Or are we gonna go inside?” 

Namjoon takes the card from between your fingers and slides it into the slot in the door, the old, worn entrance to the cheap motel room swinging in to reveal the darkness inside. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Yoongi grunts out, his fingers once again encircling your wrist, as he tugs you toward the open doorway with him without looking back. “We’re going inside.” 

*******

The light that slips in between the long, dusty curtains makes your head pound, and groaning and throwing your hands over your still half closed eyes, you let out a groan, noting that your mouth is so dry, it feels like it’s full of sawdust. 

“Shit. What time is it.” You ask to no one in particular, slipping your leg to the edge of the blanket, as if you’re going to attempt to leave the warmth of the bed and the two bodies there, to find your discarded phone. 

“Does it matter?” Namjoon groans back in response from your left, one arm slung across his own eyes. “It’s Saturday. No classes.” 

“I’m not worried about classes.” You mumble back, attempting to open your eyes once more, as you slide your hand out to the edge of the bed and blindly feel over the cool surface of the dresser for your phone. “I had plans with Jennie today.” 

“Will you two shut the hell up?” Yoongi grumbles out, annoyance clear in the deeper and more husky version of his morning voice, as he throws your still searching arm off of his bare chest, and rolls over, squinting at you with bloodshot eyes. “I swear to God, I’ll kill you both if this headache doesn’t kill me first.” 

“You’re just as pleasant in the morning as I remember.” You tease back, and a slight smile comes to your lips-you can’t help it-as you observe the naked, tan swathe of his skin and the tumbled messy nest of his blonde hair and the frown that pulls the corners of his full lips down. “Too much fun last night, Min?” 

“I really hate you.” Yoongi growls out, baring his teeth at you, before he covers his eyes with one large palm and rolls away from you. 

“Yeah, I bet you do.” You laugh at his distress, as Namjoon rolls toward you, and slings his arm heavily across your waist, his skin warm against your own. 

He presses a kiss to the skin beneath your ear, and you shiver slightly, but suddenly, without the warming, loosening effect of the drinks from the night before, you suddenly feel as if you’re doing something wrong, being here with both of them, just like old times. 

“Um-” You hedge out, sliding out from his grip, and away from Yoongi, toward the end of the bed, where you lean over to grab your clothes, discarded on the floor from the night before. “I really need to get going.”

Another walk of shame for you. 

You slip on your undergarments, and tug on your pants, before you pull your hoodie back over your head, all too aware that the two men are watching you the entire time, making your fingers fumble and your heart thud painfully in your chest. 

“I-” You brush hair off your forehead, and begin the impossible task of looking for your phone in the trashed motel room. You don’t know how to finish what you want to say, so you lean down beneath the bed to avoid the tension, searching in the dark for your missing phone. 

Finally, your fingers curl around the lost item, and standing up, you shove your phone into your back pocket, before standing nervously at the edge of the bed. 

Yoongi, who had left the bed shortly after you did, reemerges in the door of the small en suite bathroom, towel wrapped around his bare waist, as he leans against the doorframe and looks you over with hooded gaze. “Leaving so soon, sweetheart?” 

Your mouth feels dry, and when you swallow, it gets stuck in your throat. 

Namjoon sits up in the bed, and raking a hand through dark, mussed hair, he offers you a slightly sad smile, just like you remembered from the night before. “It’s okay, (Y/N). I don’t think any of us expected that to happen. We get it.” 

You part your lips, because you want to say something, desperately, about how you still miss them both, about how you love them, more than anyone else in the world, about how terribly bland your life has been without them. 

But you can’t 

Because that’s not right. 

“What will you do now?” Yoongi asks, stepping out of his place in the doorway, his mouth thin and serious again, dark eyes unreadable as he stares at you in a way that makes your heart ache. 

“Try to forget you both again, I guess.” You murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, as you shrug stiffly, the words breaking your heart in your chest into a million pieces once again. “What will you guys do now?” You ask, before you can stop yourself, because you know you don’t want to hear the answer out loud. 

Namjoon grimaces, watching you from his sitting position on the bed, and his eyes are sad, dark pools of regret. “Forget you too, I guess.” 

You nod, and you have to swallow harder than before to dislodge the sudden ball of tears threatening to clog your throat. 

“Heh.” Yoongi scoffs quietly to himself, something like a mix between a humorless laugh and a sigh, and when he addresses you again, his gaze is slightly softer than before, though the hurt is still just as apparent. “What will you do with your tattoos?” 

You manage a watery smile. “Get them covered up with something, I guess.” 

“Do birds.” 

You glance over at Namjoon in surprise, shocked that he remembers how much you love the feathered animal-”free and light” you had always told the two men. That’s how you wanted to be. 

“Yeah.” Yoongi nods in agreement, his voice soft and muted, and you glance over at him, but he won’t meet your gaze. “You always loved birds.” 

And with those two innocent comments-from the lips of the men you still loved more than anything else in the world-you have a startling, agonizing epiphany, standing in the shitty, messy motel room. 

It seems-as much as you all are loathe to admit it-that forgetting each other is going to be a lot harder than you had originally thought. 

And maybe, not just because of the tattoos inked forever on your wrists

[blackqueenstarseed1]

The Friend

Chapter one - Fall out

Paring -  Rafael Casal x black!reader AU

Summary - You've been in love with one of your best friends for years, you've actually agreed to reveal your feelings to Daveed, but what happens when you find out he's got a new girlfriend. Will his best blonde-haired pal be the one you've always been waiting for?

Warnings - slight angst, heartbreak, Alcohol

Word count : 2,274

Note: Let me know your thoughts please. I love Rafael, and he needs more love on here. 

I’m also making a tag list, let me know if you want to be apart of it.

“Not that dress it’s giving grandma vibes.”, your roommate Jamie said leaning against the doorway to your bedroom. As she nodded towards your floral dress that was in your hands. 

“Well help me find something, I wanna make sure he noticed me this time.” You mumbled closing your eyes imagining his beautiful brown eyes that can warm an entire room. And that smile, oh that fucking smile that felt as pure as the source of light. Returning back to reality you signed, “I’m gonna tell him how I feel tonight, and  I- I want it to be special. You know?”

Jamie raised her brown, walked towards your bed, and took a seat next to you. Staring you in the eye giving you her concerned motherly look, oh here she goes, you thought not wanting to hear another lecture, especially with your nerves today. “Listen y/n, no matter what happens tonight just know that you don’t need some guy to be happy okay? Daveed is an idiot if he doesn’t see how much of a wonderful person you are.”

That was his name Daveed, Daveed Daniele Diggs, and you were in love with him since you first met at freshman orientation which was five years ago. You wanted to tell him how you felt, but he was in a long-term relationship with a girl named Lisa. But about three months ago he learned that she was cheating on him for over 4 years. You honestly felt bad at how happy you were at the news, throwing yourself a little party at some misdeeds. No, really you actually did throw a little party, from buying a mini cake, and jumping up and down as ‘lovely day’ by bill withers played through the stereo. Pathetic. With that, you decided to give him time to heal before you tell him that you were helplessly in love with him. Three months should be good enough you mused.

“Yea, yea I get it. Love myself before someone else. I didn’t ask for a Ted talk, but okay.” You replied getting up from your seat, throwing the dress back in the closet. “Now help me find something to wear. Let me see if that fashion degree was worth it?”

Jamie chuckled, shaking her head at you. Walking into your closet she nodded, “sure.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your stomach was beginning to do circles as you and Jamie arrived at the party. It’s okay you can do this ...after some drinks… but no I should stay sober for this.

“Y/n! Jamie! Come and take a shot with me.” Oak yelled, walking towards the pair of you with two shot glasses in his hands. As he came up to the both of you his eyes went wide as he looked at you up and down inspecting your outfit. “Damn y/n, you look ummm, y-you look, I-I mean wow.”

You nodded with a satisfied smile on your face. I hope Daveed likes this too. “Thanks, oak, and no thank you I’m the DD tonight.”

“Cool, cool. Well, I’m over there if you need me.” He winked and walked towards a group of guys.

“Hey wait, I never said that I didn’t want one,” Jamie yelled frowning as Oak walked away selectively not hearing her plea. Turning towards you with a knowing smirk on her face, she shook her head. “See I told you bitch. You’re  fucking hot.”

“Oak flirts with anything that moves, that was nothing.” You mumbled, rolling your eyes. It was true though, you loved Oak to death but if you had a penny for every compliment he gave to anyone you’d be a trillionaire.

“True but- Oh fuck look who just arrived. Twelve o’clock your way.” Jamie mumbled and nodded her head towards the front door. Slowly looking up your heart began to beat fast, increasing in an unhealthy way. Daveed walked in the room like the goddess that he was, dressed to the gods, hair moisturized to the lords. He waved at people nearby as he walked further through the party getting closer to you. Jamie squeezed your shoulder, giving you a warm smile. “Do it now, so you’ll have the rest of the night to drink the pain away.”

You nodded not being able to reply as Daveed walked up to you.

“Hey! Y/n, Jamie. It’s good to see you both.” He said with his beautiful eye smile lighting up the room giving Jamie a side hug. Pulling you into a warm hug looking you up, and down biting his lips. “What’s been going on with you? I felt like we haven’t talked in years!”

“Oh, y'know works have been pulling me in all areas.” You replied, wishing you had taken the shot Oak had offered you earlier. Liquid courage can be a good thing. Gathering the little courage you had you shot him a smile, “Actually I been wanting to talk to you about something-“

“Thanks, diggs for the correct directions. I really appreciate it. If you haven’t noticed I’m being sarcastic.” A voice yelps in the near distance interrupting your plan to drag Daveed away, to confess your love for him. Balling your fists trying to keep your cool, looking up trying to see who was brave enough to interrupt a girl so helplessly in love. Wearing a yellow ‘Oakland’ hoodie, with glasses on, walking towards you with a girl walking beside him, you signed as you made the person out. Rafael Santiago motherfucking Casal, great, now you didn’t hate him per se but you greatly dislike his white ass. From disagreeing on everything, arguing over stupid shit, him teasing, and poking fun at you every chance he got on you. Let’s just say you two weren’t exactly close. Walking up to the three of you he smiled, “ Hey, Jamie. I love ya man, but never ask me for a favor if you can’t cooperate okay.”

The fuck did he just ignore me. You thought saying a silent prayer in your head trying not to go off on his ass.

“Sorry, my phone went dead once I realized I gave y’all the wrong direction,” Daveed mumbled, shrugging his shoulders, reaching his hands out to the girl who arrived with Rafael. What? Who is she? “ Guys I want y’all to meet my girlfriend Serena.”

At that moment you could’ve sworn that the entire room can hear your heart-shattering in millions of pieces. After all this time of pinning after a guy, you always cared for giving your every thought to, but in reality, he will never give you the time of day. Fuck I’m a desperate piece of mess you thought feeling your throat getting hard. Fuck don’t cry you weak bitch. Jamie looked up in surprise, her eyes instantly falling on you shooting you a sympathetic look. But no you weren’t gonna be a bitter bitch just because someone wasn’t into you, you were better than that. Putting all of your feelings aside you nod. “Nice to meet you I’m, y/n, and that’s Jamie.”

“You too. Oh my god, I love your outfit, it's beautiful.” She smiled, making Daveed grin as he pulled her into a side hug, happy that she was getting along with his friends. Mumbling a small ‘thanks’, you felt defeated, not only was she pretty, but she was nice too. You couldn’t even hate her if you tried, at least his last girlfriend Lisa was a total bitch, something that your whole friend group silently thought as well. Which was good because it didn’t make you feel guilty for your feelings for Daveed because you had a villain in your love story. Kissing her cheek making her giggle, Daveed smiled and looked up at you. “So what were you trying to tell me earlier?”

“Oh, um it was nothing. Just forget it. Listen I should go see everyone else.” You rasped, pointing towards an area of the house far away from them. “It was good seeing you all.”

 “Okay, well don’t be a stranger.” Daveed frown noticing the change in your state, just a minute ago you were on cloud nine. Serena waved bye at you. While Jamie stared at you squinting her eyes, silently asking if you needed her, you shook your head no. Rafael glanced up looking away from his phone for a moment and mumbled. “See ya.”

Oh? so he did know that I was here, fucking bitch.

Grabbing a bottle of vodka on your way out towards the pool area, you found a place farther away from any eyes. You began to take a gulp from the bottle. “Fuck.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I guess I don’t need this.” You laughed fully drunk after finishing almost half the bottle of vodka. Standing by the pool with the letter you wrote Daveed in your right hands, and a lighter in your left trying to burn your feelings away. Maybe it was because you were drunk off your ass, or maybe the lighter was cheap as hell. But It wouldn’t work no matter how much you flick the little rolling thingy. “Fuck can something work for me for once. DAMN IT!”

“Hey what the fuck y/n! Are you trying to burn the house down?” Rafael yelled running up to you snatching the lighter from your hands. Making you jump in surprise, him coming out of nowhere throwing you off, so much so that you slipped on a puddle of water nearby. Feeling gravity defy you, You gasped “Shit.”

But before you could even fall into the pool, you felt warm arms around you. Looking up into the eyes of the person who saved you from embarrassment. You tilted your head, eyebrows furrowed, confused as to why the guy who hated your entire existence decided to save you from humiliation. Rafael’s expression hardened. “Are you insane? What if you would’ve gotten hurt?.”

“Please, stop yelling. My head hurts, and the room is spinning.” You whined, placing your hand on your forehead trying to block any more noise, coming your way. You didn’t need someone, especially him, making you feel guilty for drinking your feelings away. Because you weren’t in the mood right now. Shoving the letter back into your purse you glared at the blonde man, 

“Leave me alone.”

“There’s no way I’m gonna leave you in this state. I mean look you can barely walk.” Rafael proclaimed pulling your arm sitting you down on a nearby bench. “Stay here.”

He walked back into the house as you sat there with a dumbfounded look not believing that he was actually trying to help you at this low point. Coming back towards you he hands you a bottle of water. “Drink this.”

Squinting your eyes at him wondering if this was a setup and if he poisoned the water. You decided to take the risk, and grabbed the water from him and mumbled a small  ‘thanks’ as you gulped down the water. Rafael nodded watching you finish the water pleased with your compliance. “You good?”

“Yes. Thanks,” you replied, playing with the top of the bottle trying to avoid any eye contact with this confusing man.

“Ain’t that’s what friends are for?” He mused, staring into your eyes with his beautiful eyes. You always thought that Rafa was a handsome man, especially with his way with words, and his wisdom was simply out of this world. And your attraction to him never fully went away, especially after your altercations. But just because you think he’s cute doesn’t mean you’ll go out with him, he’s still Rafael the guy who gave you hell. Peering up at him leaning further into the bench you replied. “Friends?”

“Yes, friends. What?” Rafael questioned eyebrows raised at your statement.

“I’m just saying I never consider you a friend, and I’m pretty sure you would say the same too.” You confessed not caring how honest you were being. Liquid courage 1, sober 0.

“Ouch.” Rafael chuckled, as he jammed his hands in his front pocket. 

“I’m serious Raf, for as long as I can remember. You couldn’t stand to be in the same room as me, and now you wanna help me. What’s your deal? Huh.” You demanded crossing your arms, glaring at him. Wanting him to stop playing games with you.

“That’s not even remotely true! I-I, look listen to me when I say this. I know pain when I see it, and it’s written all over your face. I just want to make sure you don’t do anything stupid. Okay.” Rafael answered threading a hand through his hair, his lashes fluttering. Staring deep into your soul, bringing an unfamiliar sense of comfort to you. Damn he really is serious

“Thanks, but I’m fine. And I don’t need you to check on me.” You argue, looking away from his intense stare. Rafael huffed, shaking his head in return. “Sure.”

Sitting in silence for a few minutes Rafael stood up from his seat and jerked his head in the direction of the back exit. “This party is getting pretty boring. You wanna go grab something to eat.” 

You honestly didn’t know what to make of his sudden interest in you. For the longest time, the only attention he has ever given you was to either say something rude, or correct you. This was definitely weird, yes, but you were too drunk and too hurt to care right now. Glancing up towards the house seeing Daveed with his arm around Serena. You frown, tearing your eyes away from the man who still had your heart. Standing up, throwing the water bottle by a nearby bush, you nodded. “Let’s go.”