#once had a guy friend who would shamelessly flirt with other girls even though he literally had a girlfriend

[always-andromeda]

men are nothing to me theyre NOTHING!!!!!!!! NOTHIJF

Men. 😀

Men can go choke. ✌🏻☺️✌🏻💖✨🌈

[clonesome]

I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED THE ORIGINAL ASK BC ITS LIKE 4AM WHEN IM TYPING THIS AND I HIT THE WRONG BUTTON A C K sorry @kapuchino357 BUT I AM ANSWERING YOUR ASK <3

(AS OF WRITING THIS BIT IN PARANTHESIS I HAVE TRIED WRITING THIS 13 TIMES its not you its me lolol i hust have so much to saaaaay and I feel like it's about damn time I finished it skdkkf)

THANK YOU FOR LETTING ME SCREAM ABOUT MY OCS !!!!!!! <3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

Also a thank you to all of my friends who play around with our OCs like it's pretend on the playground <3 thank you for helping me get a few of my OCs out of my head and out where they can be enjoyed.

I think we should start with Leandro, since he takes up most of my brain meats:

♡ Leandro Placido, he is in his late 20s. 1930s-40s eh ish time period wise aesthetic in a somewhat fantasy world i guess lol, he loves to dress in both men's and women's fashions (Loretta being the name he teases others with when he dresses up in typical womens fashion and goes out. But not always, sometimes he really does just want to feel pretty as Leandro and thats fine too <3). "Cleaner", he cleans up the crime scenes and disposes of bodies for his Boss and he's the best one in their Family. Which is so fitting bc his Boss found his sorry ass in a dumpster of all things. He had unintentionally been helping the guys he ran into dispose of a body he thought was regular trash and long story short after helping them they threw him in the dumpster too to get rid of him and that is when the Big Boss was told of him and well.. there he was.

Loud and rowdy, he never really knows when to keep his mouth shut with most things. He also has a quick temper, especially if he's drunk but not always. He's a bumbling idiot with a heart of gold. He plays the trombone terribly on purpose to annoy people, though he is actually a really skilled player. He uses sex, and other things, as a weapon against himself but learns that he doesn't need to do that as he grows in his story. Unfortunately he's also a rat, secretly having infiltrated his Family by the very enemy who wants nothing more than to get rid of them once and for all. Too bad he's fallen in love with the head maid of the House, and when he falls, he falls incredibly h a r d. Only having ever been in one other full relationship with a girl he went to high school with, which he ended in one of the worst ways possible (smh poor Annity), he wasn't sure how to explain his feelings for her. And then he accidentally catches her and one of his best friends in bed together, so after that he doesn't want to get in between two of some of the most important people in the world to him. So he just.. flirts, and really why would she think any different?

He always flirts. With everyone. So they do this tired song and dance of him shamelessly flirting with her, and her being annoyed (and flustered) by it because she thinks he's just teasing her relentlessly. And it goes on.. for a long time. Until... after like A Lot. For instance: him bedding a different high power Underworld Boss while black out drunk and also not even knowing who he was, getting kidnapped (almost four times) and getting most of his tongue cut out on a successful kidnapping to remind him of who he really works for (and if there is one thing he hates is a traitor, boy look in the damn mirror who do you think you are), being sent off to work at the docks for three months after getting into a heated argument with his Boss (over the Boss's relationship bc GASP Leandro has a bit of a lusty crush on him too! Messyyyyy), him having a crush on a dance hall owner (Bruce) bc he taught him how to love the side of him that he calls Loretta (which in turn has him accepting his whole self), Annity showing back up in his life with their son William (double gasp!), his abusive parents showing back up after he gets arrested for the 43rd (to which he is owed 43 phone calls dammit! Lol!), among... other happenings. . . They finally get their happy ending. But, not in the way they expected. And that fits them just fine.

He's messy, in all senses of the word, but cleans up nice. It takes him too long to get his shit together. He's the dumpster fire that lives in my heart lol. Very 'sun coded' or whatever it's called in the ways that he burns himself too bright in a way that will destroy him. he's viciously angry while having so much love for others but almost none for himself. More than willing to take a bullet for anyone, but will also put a bullet in whoever his Boss feels like.

He's also so dense. No book smarts, only street smarts. If anyone he truly loves flirts back with him, like the Head Maid or Bruce, it is seriously like they are talking to a brick/concrete wall. Also the trope of 'love me so much it undooms me' but only after it's too late.

He dies, of course only after realizing just how much he wants to live. And how much he now has to let go because death has always been coming for him. He had so desperately wished for it so many times, except now he wishes for anything but. And that's when his time is up.

He then appears on a beach, which he has dreamed about- so much like the one back home. A home he hasn't seen since he was a child running around wild. And who does he see a little ways down the shore? The love of his life and the promised spirits of their two children that they are lucky enough to have in their next lives. He runs over and embraces her, twiling her around and bringing a trail of waves around them in the air as he does so all while crying into her hair as she clings just as tightly. After he sets her down and kisses her, the children tackled him into the ever on coming surf. And he gets a taste of what his after life is supposed to be- until all of a sudden, after a small talk with his beloved, they all disappear. He can't see or hear them, but they can see and hear him as he calls out helplessly for them. And he thinks, this is it. This is the hell that he had always known he would end up in. He just wasn't prepared for it. He also was not prepared for the heart shaped lock that magically appeared and locked itself unbearably tightly through his chest and into the space where his heart was. Then the beach is gone, where his loving family are just as confused to his disappearance.

He's back to the place where he died, held back by someone who has unfinished business with him. A girlfriend who had never been able to let him go, Annity. Who.. isn't all bad she's just... complicated.

Cursingly haunting the person who is keeping him from moving on, becoming almost nothing more than a twisted rage filled demon. He dooms the person holding his spirit hostage for years until the love of his life (who had died before him, in his arms. Tragic.) uses almost the last of her own spirit energy to save him, oh yeah, and to stop the ghost marriage Annity had been so close to achieving!

With help of course!

From a medium- who turns out to be his Boss' younger sister who he would have done anything for while living (and who after most of his tongue was cut out she taught him sign language). And his own son, who all this time hadn't been able see him, but had sensed.. something was off for the past few years with his mother. He never would have guessed it was something like this.

And only then, when all of his and others wrongs are in some way set to right, are they allowed to live their after life in happiness and love. Because after all of this... he gets his revenge- in a way, he forgives those he feels deserves it... but also he forgives himself for his past mistakes that he didn't even know he learned from.

I just have so many feelings about him and all of the scenarios he could get himself into when he isn't confined to the limits of the story he is doomed by and haunts himself.

Next is Graskogr of Strilgahl and Isabeau, they are a couple of destiny do NOT separate them. let's start with Gras:

♡Graskogr of Strilgahl, 874 years old give or take a few years, 12'9", fantasyyyy so anything I say goes yay =], they speak with two voices (i imagine it to sound like a duet, in the beginning I thought of something like the duet between Ashley Barrett and Daniel Korb from the Hades soundtrack bc their voices together are absolutely beautiful. But not im thinking its something like whatever those two characters from this game my friend plays. One voice is gruff and animalistic while the other is light and serene.) sometimes one voice leads while the other has an overlaying whisper it just depends. Ruler of a kingdom that they had lived in their centuries long life, having overthrown the previous ruler and brought peace and prosperity to their kingdom. Though they are now hated by every other surrounding kingdom, either for how long they've been in power or just becuase of how powerful they themselves are. Having been granted great magical ability from their godlike parentage, they have a fully golden akorhraca (bullshit fantasy metal I made up lol) arm that can transform into any weapon they wish. Though more of a curse than blessing, they need magical energy to survive. And a lot of it. And if they call upon their weapons too often or use too much power the ichor spreads. They have fissures of the stuff all over their body like lightning scars almost. Something akin to a big dark blue broken plate fixed with gold.

They've had so many marriages over their life, most ending with the partner leaving. As a product of whoever not wanting to be with them or being to afraid of them or for whatever reason once the political side of things was secured the partner would end the marriage. And they would let them, gladly. Not really caring here nor there abiut a relationship, until one. Karya, a human, far smaller and fragile than them. It was the first time in their life they had felt something like love. Though that wasn't necessarily what they would have called it, not having the words to describe how they felt. (And honestly neither do I lol) The two lived happily for many years, Gras allowing themselves to dote on this tiny woman and also allowing her to do the things she could for them as well.

But then she got sick. Gras tried everything they could to heal her, but for some reason... nothing they did worked. So unfortunately the beloved queen passed. And they went into a deep grieving, a depression so deep they shut everyone and everything out for a few centuries. At one point in the beginning even closing off the kingdom to anything and everyone other than those who greatly needed their help. Refusing to speak anything more than a grunt or one word answer whenever a steward would ask something of importance to the kingdom.

They even gained a new pronoun during this time, they start using It to refer to themselves as well lol.

Though after their initial grieving, they went into a rage. So terrifying and powerful that it woukd be spoken of for centuries after, and it is also a reason as to why they are so hated. Taking their seemingly unending anger out whatever they felt like. But thankfully it didn't last too long. But it would scar their public perception from other kingdoms forever. Oh they also sort of become an assassin for hire as well during this time. Not even seeing the need to disguise themselves either so everyone knew it was them who was coming for their targets lol. Though instead of being paid in money they would be paid in things that would help their kingdom, that admittedly would struggle due to their absence.

Most of their time, however, after their rage would be spent in the chambers that they had dedicated to Karya.

Okay enough doom and gloom, well not really but whatever, now onto Isabeau!

♡Isabeau, a harpy woman who has lived with her flock in the mountains her entire life. Until she is accidentally cursed by some novice magic user to be a tiny little bird. Unable to speak or transform back, the magic user feels absolutely awful for the wrong they have caused her. Vowing to help return her to her glorious self, the two set out to undo this curse. Eventually being separated by a strong wind that blows Isabeau's tiny form aaaaaaaaaaallllll the way to Strilgahl.

Where the first interaction she gets with Graskogr is they try to shoot her with an arrow from their fantasy metal arm.

Off to a great start.

So she retaliates by trying to use her small but sharp talons to scratch them. But it doesn't do anything, not even leave a mark.

And something stirs inside Graskogr, a light feeling he hasn't felt for many years. Seeing the tenacity of this little tiny thing to live. To not die by their hand. It causes them to laugh, truly for the first time since their beloved passed. Though it was nothing more single chuckle. But still.

It confused Isabeau, who just moments before this hulk of a figure was just trying to kill her. And now it was... laughing. Or almost laughing? She wasn't sure. . . Just as long as death wasn't staring her in the face. And at this point she is so exhausted she just passes out.

So Gras takes care of this little bird, a thing that it's beloved loved so much..

Aaaaand unfortunately that's kind of all I have for sure for them. But there is also some dream stuff, where Gras sees Isabeau's true form in their dreams but all they really see is a person made of light so they think st first that it is Karya guiding them. And maybe in some way it is. Karya may be watching over these two idiots and be pushing them together so that they can be happy.

They teach each other how to love and trust and l i v e again. Despite the harships and curses. Despite everything. The live and they love. And for them, that is enough.

( and also for this Fantasy land Leandro also has a form here where he is a fallen star turned Mortal and Human. Or he thinks he's Human. He has amnesia from the fall and transformation. Lol but other than that and some more magical powers he's basically the same character. )

Aaaaaand that's all I have time for folks. If these characters of mine are interesting for you and you read this far. I love yooouuuuuuu lolol ask me more stuff about them and I may have answers to give.

[yuujispinkhair]

To the end (Chapter 2)

The end of the world as you knew it began with the virus spreading in your dorm. Six months later, you are once again on the run. By your side is Sukuna, the bad boy of your camp, the most unlikely companion you expected. But maybe this is exactly as it should be because sometimes hope comes in the form of a smug smirk and a tattooed pair of sword-yielding arms.

Masterpost ++ Chapter 1

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: Zombie Apocalypse AU, horror, smut and some fluff Playlist: Zombie Apocalypse Word Count: 6k Warnings: 18+, violence, gore, angst, smut, rough sex, cum-eating, squirting, zombies, fighting, knives, blood, mentions of several side characters' deaths, alcohol, cigarettes, suicidal thoughts. This AU is based on The Walking Dead, so imagine a world like this. It's cruel and hopeless at times, but there is also a love story :) All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

You wake up with a start. You don't know where you are, and your body reacts instinctively, making you jump out of bed, ready to flee or fight or do both. But you only get a few steps before you run into a solid chest and hear an amused laugh.

"Easy there, princess. Don't knock yourself out."

You blink up at the owner of that chest. And finally, your mind catches up with what is going on. The zombie attack last night. Your unexpected savior. His katana cutting through undead bodies as he slayed through them with all his anger and strength. Pink hair and red and black blood.

Sukuna.

You take a step back, feeling relieved and intimidated at the same time. Sunlight is streaming in through the small window of the hut, mercilessly showing all the reminders of last night's fight on your new companion's skin and clothes.

He still looks as gory as last night, with all the dried blood and dirt splattered all over his face and clothes. The tank top he's wearing looks stiff from all the filth. 

Unbidden, a memory comes to your mind. You overheard several women in the camp say that Sukuna only wears that tank top because it shows off his muscular arms and pecs. They always giggled when saying it, their eyes traveling across the camp to where Sukuna was standing, letting their hungry gazes trail shamelessly over his body.

Your lip twitches.

You know that Sukuna had a certain reputation in your camp. The bad boy, with a short temper and an intimidating aura, but who is also a big flirt. He is a guy who knows how hot he is and enjoys using this to his advantage.

At least three girls in your camp claimed to have slept with Sukuna, and at one point, two of them got into a dramatic argument because they were jealous of each other. They fought over him while Sukuna leaned back in his camping chair and watched them with an amused smirk on his handsome face, enjoying the show way too much. In the end, they both screamed at him to pick his fave, and he just shook his head and told them he didn't do favorites.

If you're honest, it had been quite entertaining. Like watching some trashy reality tv-show. A little normality in the middle of the apocalypse.

Right now, the muscular arms in question are filthy with dried blood, and the stench of death and decay clings to them. But you know that you aren't in any better state. Your clothes feel disgusting where they cling to your skin, sticky with gore and sweat. And you don't even want to know what your hair and skin must look like after all the blood raining down on you last night.

There's a change of clothes in your backpack, but it would be a waste to change into them while you are still so dirty yourself.

Sukuna seems to think the same thing because he informs you:

"Now that you're awake, we can go check in which direction the creek is. I think we shouldn't be too far away. Are you ok to go?"

You nod and try a small smile, though you are sure it fails miserably. Your muscles are sore from the fighting and running last night, and the emotional fatigue is even worse.

Your friend comes to your mind again. Over and over, the same horrible image of her body getting buried under the zombies. Their hands and teeth tearing at her flesh. You feel bile rising in your throat and have to press a hand over your mouth.

Sukuna lifts an eyebrow, giving you a skeptical look before he clicks his tongue.

"Look, since you and I are in this together now, I have some rules, and the first rule is that you don't lie to me. So I'm asking you again, are you ok?"

"I...yeah...I..."

He rolls his eyes dramatically, crossing his muscular arms in front of his chest and looking down at you with a mocking expression on his face.

"Oooh, how convincing. Try again."

His tone is too mocking, his gaze too infuriatingly smug. Something in you snaps. All the anger and frustration and fear you bottled up explodes out of you as you glare at him and spit out angrily:

"Of course, I'm not ok! Are you ok? I don't think so! No one in this world is ok! I am tired of all this fighting. I lost my friend last night! I have no idea what to do or where to go. How am I supposed to be ok? But I am thirsty and covered in dirt and blood and other disgusting things, and I just want to get clean and drink something and maybe feel a tiny bit more comfortable! So can we please go find that creek?! If I have a breakdown on the way, just leave me there to die! I won't be a burden to you!"

Your eyes meet a pair of amused maroon ones. The owner of those eyes grins at you with that typical rude smirk, and his tongue is sticking out between his teeth, making him look so inappropriate somehow. Sukuna always has such an infuriating way of looking at people! It drives you up the wall!

His eyes sparkle when he cocks his head and tells you in an overly fake sweet voice:

"Aww, see, that's the truth. I knew you could do it. Wasn't that hard, was it? So, from now on, you will always be this honest with me, ok?"

You glare at him. Asshole! But his smug smirk grows even wider.

"And the second rule is that you always do as I tell you. Now follow me, brat."

You can't stop yourself from muttering under your breath, "The only brat here is you."

Sukuna's gaze snaps to yours, his eyes fixing you with an unreadable expression. For a second, you are sure you have gone too far, but then Sukuna laughs.

"If being a brat keeps me alive in this fucked up world, then I think it's a good thing. Maybe being a bit fucked up myself helps."

He straps his katana across his back before leaning down to grab your backpack and shoving it against your chest.

"Get whatever you need for a little excursion."

Sukuna pushes the heavy cupboard away from the door as if it weighs nothing, making you think that, as insufferable as he is, he was probably the best person you could run into last night.

He and his brother always were the strongest in your camp. The Itadori twins who chopped more wood in an hour than anyone else. They taught others how to fight and were always the first ones in line when an attack happened.

The difference is that Yuuji is friendly and all smiles and warm words, helpful and ready to sacrifice himself for others in a heartbeat. A hero straight out of a fairytale. The knight in shining armor.

Sukuna, on the other hand, is a bit of an asshole. Arrogant, rude, and ready to fight anyone over petty stuff. Allergic to people telling him what to do. Infamous for his snide remarks.

He once dragged two teenagers who had tried to sneak away back to the camp and snapped at them that he wouldn't die for idiots like them and that if he ever catches them again doing stuff that puts everyone else in danger, he would make sure to feed them to the zombies himself. Everyone in your camp had believed him.

So if Yuuji is the hero, then Sukuna is probably the anti-hero.

You would feel more comfortable with Yuuji here, but you know you shouldn't be complaining about getting the wrong twin. After all, Sukuna is the one who saved your life last night. And if you want to keep living for a while longer, he is your best bet.

And so you quickly put on your backpack, grab your knife, and follow your new zombie apocalypse partner out of the hut and into the forest.

Sukuna is good at this, you realize.

It's the first time you have joined him on an excursion. You always assumed he was just good at fighting. A strong, tall guy who used to be the star player of some sport team in college and now is valuable to the camp because of his brute strength and ability to fight.

But to your surprise, he is also adept at navigating expertly through the forest.

When he catches you watching him, he answers your questioning looks with a short explanation about how to use nature's clues for navigation. He points out markings on the tree barks and tells you what to learn from animal tracks on the ground.

"And all that tells me that the creek should be in this direction."

You follow him, genuinely impressed by his skills.

"So, did you learn all that after the virus, or did you know it before?"

"I knew it before. My grandpa used to take my brother and me hiking and camping almost every weekend when we were kids. Explained all kinds of survival stuff to us. He said those are the truly important things a man needs to know. I guess he was right after all."

Sukuna laughs softly, sounding a lot less intimidating than he usually does to you. His maroon eyes light up when you look at him, and a smile blooms on his face, making him look weirdly pretty despite the blood on his face.

He points a long finger towards a small opening between the trees, and when you follow his gaze, you see something glittering in the distance. Sunlight reflecting on water, you realize.

You smile too, feeling some tension leave your body at the prospect of being able to clean up and get something to drink.

"You did it, Sukuna!"

The rest of the walk goes by without any disturbances. Finally, you reach the small creek and fill your water bottles and wash your faces and arms.

Sukuna shoves the last water bottle into his backpack and jerks his chin in the direction the water flows.

"I want to follow it downhill. Maybe there's a pond down there where we can bath."

He is right. In the nearby valley lies a small pond. The water is peaceful and clear, undisturbed by any undead creatures.

You want to inquire who should get into the water first, but when you turn to Sukuna, he is already grabbing the hem of his filthy tank top and pulling it over his head. It happens so fast that you don't even have time to process what he's doing. You blink at his naked torso, the defined muscles of his pecs and abs, the black tattoed lines inked into his tan skin.

Your mind is barely processing this when Sukuna's long fingers are already wandering to his belt and undoing it before they proceed to open the button and zipper of his black jeans.

You are still staring at him speechlessly when his fingers hook in the hem of his jeans and the black boxer briefs he's wearing underneath and start to push them down.

That's when you finally get out of your momentary daze, and a strangled sound escapes your mouth. You quickly look away, pressing your hands in front of your eyes as you feel your face get hot.

"Hey! What are you doing!?"

Sukuna's low voice sounds amused when he says:

"Aww, do I make you nervous, princess? This is literally the end of the world, and you think I lack decency when I want to get out of my filthy clothes? Just turn around if seeing a naked guy bothers you so much. You are missing out, though."

You roll your eyes at his teasing comment but turn around so your back is to him, heart beating up to your throat.

He is right. There is no need to be so flustered about this. It's no big deal. You are trying to survive out here in this crazy apocalyptic world, so a bit of naked skin shouldn't make you spin out of control. And it's not like Sukuna would be the first guy you see nude.

But if you are honest, Sukuna really makes you nervous. He is hot. He looks and acts like one of those popular jocks at your old college. But not like one of the golden boy types or the team captains. Sukuna looks like one of the troublemakers who would have already gotten kicked out of the team if they weren't so damn talented. 

It makes you nervous to be stuck here with someone like him. Especially since he is so confident, bordering on arrogant. He knows the effect he has on people, and he uses it with far too much glee and smugness.

You wait until he announces in that low, lazy drawl that he is decent again.

"Hey, brat! Your turn."

Your gaze lands on a dripping-wet Sukuna who has his back to you and is currently drying his pink hair with a ratty towel. He is far from decent with the way he looks, clad only in a snug pair of black boxer briefs. But at least he's not entirely naked.

You can't stop yourself from checking out the muscles on his back. They ripple enticingly with every movement of Sukuna's strong arms. And then your gaze gets inevitably drawn to his firm ass and muscular thighs.

You gulp hard. You weren't aware that Sukuna also has those black rings tattoed so far up his thighs. They look scandalous, for lack of a better word. Too sexy.

You are relieved when Sukuna finally puts on a pair of cargo pants a moment later and covers up those tempting markings on his skin.

The cargo pants sit low on his hips, though, showing his defined v-line when he turns around. And the new black tank top Sukuna puts on now doesn't do much to hide his athletic figure either. Maybe the girls in the camp were right, and he really likes to wear things that show off his muscles. Idiot.

You school your expression into an unimpressed blank gaze, but Sukuna's eyes sparkle knowingly at you, and the smirk on his pretty face is far too smug. He knows. He knows that you watched him, that your eyes were glued to his gorgeous body just a minute ago.

Sukuna nods towards the pond.

"Hurry up, princess! I won't look, I promise. Tell me when you're finished."

You hurriedly get undressed and walk into the water, scrubbing off all the grime and blood.

It feels good to be clean again, to see your skin unstained by gore. And Sukuna is surprisingly tame and polite, standing with his back to you, keeping watch of your surroundings as you get out of the water and hastily dry yourself with a spare t-shirt before slipping into your clean change of clothes.

"I want to go back to the camp. Maybe my brother went back too and is waiting for me there."

You nod where you are walking next to Sukuna,

"Yeah, that sounds likely. I hope you'll find him there."

But Yuuji isn't in the camp.

No one is there anymore. At least no one with a beating heart. You feel nauseous when you see one of the girls who fought over Sukuna a few weeks ago slowly dragging her feet across the burnt grass, gurgling noises coming out of her mouth, eyes dead and milky.

This is the true horror of this virus. Seeing familiar faces stripped off anything that made them the person they used to be. Just a blank shell. Only driven by the instinct to eat.

And it's not just the ones who got bitten by a zombie. Everyone who dies comes back as these soulless creatures. The dead only stay dead if you destroy their brain.

You watch Sukuna walk over to the zombie who was once a girl he had fun with. His katana stays in its sheath on his back. Instead, Sukuna pulls a short knife out of one of his pant pockets.

His hand tangles in long hair as he pulls the zombie's head back and then rams a knife into the side of its skull. The gurgling noises die, and the fingers trying to claw at Sukuna finally stop their struggle.

It's over.

Sukuna lowers the dead body to the ground in an oddly gentle way. You can see his lips moving, whispering a last farewell, maybe.

His gaze meets yours as he straightens up again. There's a shadow ghosting over his handsome face. He isn't as unaffected by this as you assumed. It's comforting somehow. As ruthless as Sukuna is when slaying the zombies, his heart doesn't seem to be made out of stone after all when it is someone he used to know.

But he recovers quickly and puts the knife away, and finally pulls his katana out of its sheath as he strides over to the makeshift kitchen of your old camp, where a little group of zombies is gathered.

"Search the remaining trailers for food and other useful stuff, brat. I'll take care of the vermin!"

You watch in grim fascination as Sukuna lifts his katana above his head before bringing the blade down on two undead creatures coming towards him, slicing effortlessly through their necks and severing their heads with one powerful move.

As soon as they hit the ground, Sukuna pushes skillfully between the remaining group of zombies. You hear him laugh gleefully as he makes a pinwheel in their midst, beheading four of them with one spin.

He looks so graceful while killing. It should be repulsive, but it isn't, not after all those months. In this crazy world, you can appreciate the strength and elegance Sukuna has. You can openly admire his fighting skills and his talent when it comes to the kill.

An hour later, you are on your way back to the hut. Sukuna got rid of all the remaining zombies in your old camp, and you collected all the food you could find, plus some more knives and clothes.

You fall in step beside Sukuna, walking at a leisurely pace. It feels almost like a stroll in the woods before the world went into chaos. The sun is warm on your back, bathing the forest in a pretty green light. You are clean and in fresh clothes, and your stomach is filled with water and some leftover stew you found in the camp.

For the first time since last night, you feel at ease.

But unfortunately, peace never lasts long in this new world.

You turn left at the next fork in the forest path, and without a prior warning, you step into the middle of a clearing filled with a herd of zombies.

It's a large group, too fast and too many. They probably got drawn here by the sounds of fighting last night.

Sukuna's hand grabs your arm, and he pulls you against his side, head jerking from left to right as he looks for the best escape route. But you can see that there is no escape.

You are already cut off from escaping to the sides.

"Shit! Hold on to me. We have to go back."

But as soon as you turn around to run back to where you came from, you realize with horror that the group got joined by another coming from the other side. And now you are trapped in the middle of a sea of zombies, which is slowly but gradually closing in on you.

Sukuna pulls you with him. Your eyes dart around hectically, searching for a way out. But the zombies are everywhere.

You are clutching your knife, ready to fight, even though you know that there are too many enemies. It's hopeless. 

But then Sukuna tugs sharply on your arm, and you get pushed against a large tree trunk. At least that's what you think for a second, but then you stumble backwards as the tree gives in.

What you thought was a solid trunk is just a curtain of ivy hanging down over a large opening in the tree trunk. A cavity big enough to fit a person inside. Or two.

Sukuna joins you in the narrow space, pressing his tall body against you so both of you can fit inside. He hastily readjusts the curtain of ivy, hiding you away from the zombies. It barely covers the entrance. You can see the walkers rushing by just about a meter away from your hiding space.

Your heart is hammering painfully in your chest. Too close...they are too close! They will find you! You are trapped here with no means to escape!

Your breath is coming too fast, making you dizzy. Your panicked gaze meets Sukuna's.

"Wh..what are you doing?! We can't stay here. They are everywhere!! We have to move on, Sukuna!"

You whisper-scream at him as you try to leap towards the exit in your blind urge to run. But Sukuna's strong hands dart out, pushing you back against the back of the tree trunk and trapping you there with his tall, muscular body. His fingers tighten around your wrists painfully, holding you in an unrelenting grip.

His voice is soft but harsh, 

"Stop it, brat! There is no escape route. This here is our only chance. We have to wait until they have passed through. Shut the fuck up, or they will find us!"

His eyes are burning into yours, pupils blown wide, face uncharacteristically pale. You can feel his chest heaving against you from his heavy breathing. He is terrified too, you realize.

Your wrists throb where Sukuna's fingers pin them to the tree trunk beside your face. Adrenaline is coursing through your veins, making your head spin. His words register, and you feel more panic well up. No escape? You have to stay here? Barely hidden from view in the middle of a whole crowd of the undead?

You don't want to make a sound, but a sob comes unbidden as the gravity of the situation crashes over you. Your body is trembling uncontrollably. Panic is threatening to drown you and make you do something stupid.

"I...Sukuna, please ...I'm ...I'm so scared...help me, please.."

You are sure you will lose your mind and tumble into another panic attack where your stupid body will betray you and make you scream or cry or do something else that will give your hiding place away.

Sukuna's maroon eyes dart from your eyes down to your mouth and back up again, and then right when you are about to break down, his lips crash into yours, muffling your scream with his mouth.

You are too stunned to do anything. Your breath hitches and your eyes widen even further. But Sukuna's mouth presses hard against yours, lips moving over yours in a savage, desperate kiss.

Your vision is filled with a pair of tattoed eyes staring at you from Sukuna's skin. His real eyes are closed, eyelids fluttering slightly while he kisses you.

You catch yourself thinking that he has really pretty eyelashes, and you stare at them as if the zombies out there will disappear if you just focus enough on the long black lashes and the filigree tattoed lines adorning Sukuna's cheekbones.

But then Sukuna's mouth opens against yours, and his tongue flicks over your lips, making you gasp softly. That's all it takes. Sukuna pushes his tongue between your lips, prying your mouth open, swallowing every sound you could make.

And suddenly, you are kissing him back, licking against his tongue just as desperately and hungrily as he is licking against yours. He is pressing you against the tree trunk, kissing you hungrily until all you can hear and feel and taste is him.

It's your lifeline. Something you can cling to. If Sukuna just keeps kissing you, you can drown out the horror of the world out there.

Your eyes squeeze shut, and you open your mouth further to kiss and lick and bite at Sukuna's lips. It's a wet, messy kiss. Tongues licking against each other desperately. Lips meeting with a bruising force here in the middle of a sea of zombies. Your teeth catch on Sukuna's bottom lip, and you bite it hard.

Sukuna's hands are still pinning your wrists against the tree trunk. He's caging you in with his strong body. Shielding you from everything else but him. There's only Sukuna and his lips and his body pressed against yours.

So alive. So human. So comforting.

You make it back to the hut unscathed.

The group of zombies moved on, probably wandering to your old camp. And Sukuna and you could step out of the tree trunk and continue your journey back to your temporary new shelter.

Not a single word is spoken on the walk back. A tension-filled silence settles between the two of you.

You don't know what to say. Thank you for kissing me out of a panic attack? It feels weird to even think about it. And it doesn't help that your lips are still swollen from the kiss. That you still feel your wrists throb where Sukuna held them so tightly.

Anytime you try to catch Sukuna's eyes, he just stares straight ahead, checking your surroundings for more walkers, focused on survival, or just unwilling to talk about what has happened in that tree trunk.

But the moment you step into the hut and the door closes behind you, Sukuna's maroon gaze fixes you with an intense look.

"Ok, now that we made it back in one piece, you can be mad at me all you want. In my defense, I saved our asses with that little action I pulled in the tree trunk. I'm not going to apologize for that. But punch me if you want. Here, have a swing at me!"

He points to his cheek, looking at you with a challenging twinkle in his eyes.

You stare at him for a long moment, flustered by his directness. It sounds tempting to punch him, to wipe that annoying smirk off his far too-pretty face.

But the thing is, you don't want to punch him. You want to feel the way you felt in those delirious minutes inside that tree trunk again when your head was spinning from Sukuna's kiss. You want to forget about the zombies and the apocalypse, if only for a little while.

Before you can stop yourself, your fingers already tangle in the front of Sukuna's stupid tank top, and you pull him into another kiss.

You catch him off guard, making this tall, muscular guy stumble into you so your bodies end up pressed tightly against each other again. But this time, Sukuna's strong arms wrap around you, firm hands grasping your waist and pulling you against him before his lips close over yours.

He is kissing you just as hard as in the tree trunk. Passionate and with a hunger that makes your head spin. A desperate-sounding whine escapes your mouth. You feel ashamed by how needy you sound, so full of longing.

And Sukuna laughs lowly against your lips in between those heated, breathless kisses, pulling away just enough to ask smugly:

"So, I take it you don't want to punch me, huh?"

"That was a...um, a thank you kiss."

"Yeah? Well, I'm glad we're alive too."

His voice is low, a seductive whisper against the side of your lip, and then that warm mouth moves to your neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses. You gasp, but it turns into a moan when Sukuna's teeth graze over your sensitive skin.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, marveling for a moment at how surprisingly soft it feels, and then Sukuna starts sucking on your pulse point, and you answer him by tugging on that soft pink hair and moaning his name.

And suddenly, there is no stopping the both of you anymore.

Your lips capture each other again in another heated kiss, sloppy and wet. Teeth are clashing, and tongues lick eagerly at each other. Your hands are frantically tearing at each other's clothes in their need for more skin contact.

You don't even make it over to the bed. Instead, you find yourself on the wooden floor of the hut, naked with a needy wet throbbing between your legs, hands tangled in pink hair as you pull an equally naked and riled-up Sukuna on top of you.

You are kissing hungrily, devouring each other like in the tree trunk. Needy and desperate. Hands and lips greedily moving over each other's bodies, needing more. More friction, more body heat, more human touch.

Sukuna fucks you right there on the dirty floor. Makes both of you hiss loudly when he pushes into you for the first time. There's no time to prepare you. Both of you are too horny, too desperate to wait any longer.

Sukuna stretches your pussy open around his fat mushroom head and then rams his whole hard length into you without hesitation, driven by the same feral need you feel too, to forget the hell this world is now and just lose himself in the feeling of your hot wet pussy.

He fucks you like no one else has ever fucked you. Hard and deep, making you gasp and moan and see stars because you think you will fall apart under him.

He is heavy on top of you, fucking you with savage hard thrusts. But you need it like that. Need to get fucked hard. You clutch desperately at Sukuna, pulling him closer, your nails digging into the muscles on his back, legs wrapped tightly around his narrow hips.

The small hut is filled with the sounds of sex, low grunts, harsh panting, and the filthy smacking sound of Sukuna's cock pounding your overly wet pussy and his heavy balls slapping forcefully against your slick skin.

He pulls out almost completely before he snaps his hips again to slam his thick girth back into you. Over and over again. The way Sukuna fucks you is urgent, hungry, almost brutal, knocking the air out of you.

Every hard thrust makes your ass and back slide over the rough wooden floor. But you can't bring yourself to care about the sting. You don't want him to slow down. You want him to fuck you even harder. Fuck away all your fear.

Please don't leave, please don't stop, please just keep my mind off all the bad things!

You moan Sukuna's name, and it comes out as a sob, desperate and needy, followed by a cadence of pleas.

"Sukuna...ah...yes harder, please fuck me harder...need you... I need you please!"

You are answered by a feral-sounding growl coming from Sukuna, and his mouth is on your neck, teeth closing around your sensitive skin, biting you as his pace becomes even more savage, making you gasp and cling to him tightly as your sweet spot gets tortured with hard, precise hits of his thick cockhead.

It's rough, it's dirty. Fucking on the floor with an animalistic, primal urge, void of any restraint.

A broken cry finds its way out of your mouth when the pressure gets overwhelming, and your body arches up against Sukuna's firm muscles.

Your pussy is spasming around his cock, and your nails leave deep scratches on Sukuna's back as an orgasm is fucked out of you that is so intense that you only see white for a moment.

You sob Sukuna's name, feeling tears run down your face as you squirt on his cock, messy and hot, unable to hold back as he keeps pounding your pussy with his unrelenting, brutal thrusts.

"Fuck!"

Sukuna groans loudly against your neck, which is wet from his spit and hot breath. And then he pushes himself off your body, sitting up and rolling his hips a few times more, watching as his slick cock sinks into your wet swollen pussy, stretching you open around his girth before he pulls out of you with a low groan.

You watch in rapt fascination as he wraps a hand around his thick, wet cock, pumping it in his fist with fast strokes while he kneels between your spread legs. He cums all over your stomach, covering your skin with his hot milky seed in several thick spurts.

Sukuna sounds hot when he cums, with low groans and heavy breathing.

Your gaze takes him in, staring at him as he kneels between your legs in all his glory, tall and muscular, black lines adorning his lean muscles, accentuating them beautifully. Abs flexed tightly, pecs taut with the strain of fucking you so hard. His long thick cock is still twitching with the aftershocks of his orgasm, his flushed dark pink tip glistening wetly from your slick and his cum.

He is a picture of perfection in this ugly and cruel world, like a dark angel fallen from heaven to come here and unleash his anger on those vile creatures. Brought here to keep you safe and give you hope.

Sukuna's gaze meets yours, maroon eyes glittering so enticingly with that burning passion as he leans over you.

You shudder in pleasure when he runs two fingers through the trail of his hot cum on your skin and then brings them to your lips and pushes them inside. His pretty eyes never leave your face while you suck the cum off his fingers.

When his fingers finally slip out of your mouth again, they leave a wet trail of spit on your lips and chin. A thin thread of cum and saliva still connects your lips to Sukuna's fingers for a short moment, and you stare at it in fascination until it tears.

The typical smirk is back on Sukuna's face as he sits back on his heels and runs a hand through his pink hair, smoothing the stray strands that fell into his forehead when leaning over you back out of his handsome face.

Your hazy mind is starting to catch up with what just happened and what you did, and you suddenly feel shy. You avert your gaze and try to close your legs. Your arms come up to cross in front of your naked breasts, trying to hide from Sukuna's gaze.

A soft chuckle is heard. Followed by one of Sukuna's large hands landing on your thigh and patting it. He tells you in a low, amused voice:

"No need to act shy now. We fucked on the floor. You ate my cum. My cock is still wet from your pussy. It's fine, trust me. We are in the middle of the apocalypse. This is the end of the world. There's no time to be ashamed. We should fuck a lot more and enjoy our last days. And it helped, didn't it? You feel better, don't you? Getting fucked your brains out helps, hm?"

"Do you have to say all this weird stuff, Sukuna?"

"What else should I call it? Was this a thank you-fuck? Like that kiss you gave me?"

"Maybe it was an I'm-glad-you're-here-with-me-because-I-would-be-scared-out-of-my-mind-if-I-had-to-go-through-all-this-alone-and-also-I-just-wanted-to-forget-all-this-crap-and-just-feel-good-for-a-few-minutes-fuck?"

Sukuna shrugs at your words, and there's an amused glint in his eyes. He looks softer, more relaxed, more like the college jock he is supposed to be. Who he would be if it weren't for this virus spreading through the world and turning everything upside down.

"Well, that's basically what I said. Fuck the apocalypse away for a little while."

He grins at you, looking boyish and charming when your gaze meets his. And when he winks at you, you suddenly struggle to keep the laughter in.

The same amusement is mirrored in Sukuna's eyes, and before you know it, he starts laughing.

A genuine heartfelt laugh. He sounds younger when he laughs like that, more like his brother somehow, less intimidating. You catch yourself joining in, breaking down in giggles, rolling onto your side, and holding your belly from laughing so hard.

You can't even say why you are laughing so much. You know you should stop. You know it's stupid and delusional. And yet it feels so good. It feels so good to let go for a few minutes. To just fuck and laugh and feel like a normal human being.

When your laughter has finally died down, you smile at Sukuna,

"You can have the bed tonight if you want."

But he shakes his head.

"You can sleep first, princess. I'll wake you up in a few hours so you can take over the watch."

His gaze travels over to the bed, and suddenly his eyes widen, and he crawls over, pushing a long muscular arm under the bed. And when Sukuna pulls back, he's holding up an axe.

A big triumphant grin spreads over his face.

"And tomorrow, I'll build us a fence!"

Thank you so much for reading chapter 2!! I used to call the characters in TWD stupid when they had risky sex in that fucked up world, but writing this story made me understand. I am sure getting dicked down by Kuna really helps a lot to take your mind off all that crazy stuff :)

The tree trunk scene was inspired by a scene in TWD where Carl and Enid were hiding from zombies in a large tree too. They didn't kiss in the show, but I thought it would be the perfect opportunity for Sukuna to shut reader up with desperate measures. I think he did great. Thank you for all your hard work, Sukuna! You are the best!

I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Please let me know what you think! Comments and reblogs make me happy!

Chapter 3

[genshin-obsessed]

heck yeah!! okay- can u please write kaeya, diluc, venti, and if its not too much zhongli(if you write for him ofc) with an s/o who's super shy n sweet but knows how to make a comeback? like say someone makes fun of s/o and they make a super savage and sarcastic comment and it takes them aback! ty if u do write it 💜

Ok, ok, ok. So I had a bit of a hard time with this, like I have decent comebacks but it’s gotta be in the moment. I didn’t have a moment. So all of them (except kaeya) are borrowed from friends or online :’) I also hate these and feel like I did no one any justice T^T so I’m sorry

He’s always felt really protective of you. You’re cute, shy, adorable and there’s nothing wrong with that, but whenever someone makes you uncomfortable, he HATES it [see: “When Someone Flirts with You”].

Your shyness was so cute though. He loved doing little things to tease you and watch as you turned into a blushing mess.

Now you see, the one thing he didn’t know about you was that you’re shy BUT YOU AREN’T SCARED TO PUT A BITCH IN HER PLACE.

Kaeya’s pretty. Believe it or not, he’s actually quite popular with the girls (roast me if I’m wrong). Well, there was a girl who knew you were dating him and she still insisted on hitting on him.

You were really calm with it too, standing behind her with your arms crossed and a light glare pointed towards her.

“You look like a Hilichurl on drugs. Walk away.” And she did.

Venti loves your shyness. It’s cute- too cute for him to handle at times. He likes it when you blush or when you hide your face in your hands or behind your hair. He used to wonder if you were maybe non confrontational. He would completely understand it, but seeing as how shy you were, it was safe to say if someone did come bother you, you may need help.

Venti’s a tiny guy, but he’s pretty strong. He’s an archon after all. He’s got his arsenal of insults or witty comebacks but boy oh boy, he did NOT expect yours.

Venti was a bard, and he loved singing for you and others. One day, later in the evening, Venti was performing for you and you were happily enjoying the show. Until a guard approached you two, one you knew well. He’d been quite a problem recently.

“Hey! You stupid bard! Why don’t you get a real, stable job?!” You didn’t even skip a beat before saying:

“Why don’t you get a stable marriage?”

Venti’s eyes widened as he looked back and forth between you and the guard before he slowly turned around and left.

You often had a habit of hiding behind Diluc when it came to bothersome people. He just radiated intimidation.

Because of this, Diluc was always weary of people bothering you. He was really good at picking up on cues and he would know if you were upset or uncomfortable.

Because of all of this, he didn’t expect that you would have some serious comebacks and insults. Every time you respond to someone with that sass, he dies a little on the inside.

He’s so damn proud of you! He just stands there with his arms cross with a smirk on his face. 

There was a girl, one who knew you well, who just wouldn’t lay off. She would often shamelessly flirt with Diluc RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU. Normally, you’d ignore her and Diluc shut her down every time. But this once… just this once…

“Ok, listen here you soggy piece of moldy bread, I have tolerated you for far too long. You know Diluc and I are in a relationship and if you continue to talk to him, ignoring my existence, I’m going to kick your ass so hard, whoever pulls my shoe out of your ass will be crowned King Arthur.” She never bothered you again :)

He’s a really nice, sweet, intelligent man. But he doesn’t mind smacking a bitch up for you.

You’re his amazing, beautiful, shy girlfriend. He loves you so much and he just wants to keep you safe. He loves it when you get super shy and blushy, that’s his favorite look on you.

He does get a little worried when people bother you. You aren’t confrontational and when people pelt insults at you- if they dare- he’s at your side ready to handle the situation.

The first time he heard your rare insults, he almost choked on the tea he was drinking. He really didn’t expect it, but he LOVED it. Every time someone pushes your buttons, he just waits behind you excitedly.

“This can’t be the person you’re dating!”

“I am and if you keep that up, I’ll break every bone in your body in alphabetical order. Oh, the trash gets picked up tomorrow, so be ready.”

[we-are-inevitable]

handing u this on a pristine platter for the fic titles:

cool as a cadaver

AND/OR

the sum of his desires (say i’m not)

i love you pls have a good creative time w these hehe -💥 @jack-kellys

oHHHHH OHHHHHHHH i fucking love u

both are under the cut bc they r very long !! love u sm !!

Cool as a Cadaver:

okay so this is not rlly fleshed out but,, fantasy au. and jack is dead.

there's no point in refuting it. he's dead, leaving behind a grieving fiance- david- who nearly goes mad as the truth starts to settle in: he'll never again hold jack's hand, or kiss jack's cheek, or lie with him in the dead of night.

david would do anything to bring him back. so he does.

he follows the stories he's heard in taverns and inns, about a woman who understands dark magic. he searches for weeks. months, even. and every day, he justifies this decision: jack died too young, too early, too tragically, and if david could just bring him back then everything would be okay again, right? they could be happy again, right?

eventually he finds her. katherine pulitzer is the name; the estranged daughter of a nobleman, who left on her own accord as a young woman and took up spellwork. david pays her, gives her all he has. he's desperate. he wants him back.

and he gets him, but it's not... him. this is someone different. he looks like jack. talks like jack. he smiles, laughs, has jack's mannerisms, but he's not as vibrant. he doesn't eat. doesn't sleep. he doesn't have the same warmth to him as he once does.

blah blah david adjusting to jack being dead and jack becoming more and more insistent on the fact that he's real, he's alive, he's not a freak until it consumes him. until it devours him from the inside out and all that's left is an animal- something dangerous, something desperate. something david has to get rid of.

does this make sense? no? okay! good. moving on:

the sum of his desires (say i'm not)

what? a straight boy jack fic? you bet!

okay we all know the traditional latino family. jack is raised to be a good boy and find a good girl and have a big family to provide for. have a bunch of kids, take care of mom and dad, pass along the generational heritage.

it's been hammered into his skull since he was a child that he needs to take care of the family, so imagine his surprise when he becomes an orphan at 15, with no family to his name and decades of generational trauma resting on his shoulders.

after a year in the foster system, he's adopted by medda, and he settles back into life a little easier after that- but everything hits when he goes off to college, and this is when he realizes that maybe it's not normal to feel so awkward in the locker rooms after soccer practice. maybe other guys don't have dreams about dating their friends or wonder what it would be like to kiss a boy.

and it terrifies him.

it terrifies him, because the smart poli sci pre-law boy across the hall is gorgeous, but jack doesn't know how to talk to him. he has a feeling that the guy knows what he thinks, though; this guy- david- flirts shamelessly. he's comfortable in his own skin. he's open enough to try. jack can't say the same.

david likes jack, and that's a fact- but jack prays that david will realize that he's out of jack's league. it hurts more than anything else; jack doesn't want to be the "sum of his desires," he just wants to ignore this part of him and focus on finding a pretty girl to marry like Mama and Papa always said. he can't do that when david keeps running around his mind.

it all comes to a head when david finally asks jack out; jack runs away, because he can't handle it, he can't say no because he doesn't want to say no but he has to say no because he can't like a boy.

but jack says yes the next day.

he says yes, and he and davey start dating, and dating leads to making out against jack's dorm room door and that leads to jack jumping head first into a relationship with all the impulsiveness he's ever had following him. it goes from jack not wanting to date davey to only focusing on davey; it gets obsessive and toxic and terrifying but he loves it, this taste of danger he's never had before.

and davey notices eventually, and davey calls it off, davey suggests they take a break- he knows that Jack needs to keep his cool and find out who he is before being so deep into this.

does he listen? no. do they still fuck around? yes.

just,, jack being so terrified of a relationship with davey, but immediately becoming hyperfixated on it to the point of no return, and as much as davey wants to reign it in, he can't.

yeah !! they work it out eventually but give them some obsessive toxic finding-our-footing time !! whooooo

[write-orflight]

Light the Lamp: Chapter 1

**Gif Not Mine**

Prev -  Next

Pairings: Bucky Barnes X Reader (Friends to Lovers, College/Hockey AU

Rating: M

Words: 2.2K

Warnings:  College kids being college kids, drinking, swearing, talk of sex(No smut yet but will be)

Request: OPEN/CLOSED

Summary:  Love and Hockey were kind of the same, everyone’s just rushing to score. So why couldn’t you?

A.N Summary bad but I literally couldn’t focus on writing anything else until I finished at least the first chapter of this. let me know what you think, Message/reply/inbox to be tagged.

  Chapter 1: 1st Quarter

Hockey wasn’t the sport Bucky wanted to play originally. He wanted to play baseball like his old man but when Steve decided he wanted to take ice skating lessons, he made Bucky tag along so he wouldn’t be the only boy in the class. Soon, they found themselves recruited in the junior rec hockey team and had been playing together ever since. It wasn’t a surprise that when recruitment came around that school’s were trying to pick up both of them. People knew better than to separate Cap from the Winter Soldier. Steve’s nickname was easy to figure out. He had a natural authoritative nature that made him the Captain of almost every team he played on. You never knew why they called Bucky the Winter Soldier until you played against him. Bucky was like an assassin on the ice. While everyone was focused on Steve in Center, Bucky was on left wing scoring the goal before you knew what hit you. So both of them getting recruited to play for the Avengers at Wilmington University wasn’t surprising. 

Meeting you was. 

At first, it was a sort of form of hazing. When they were starting their Freshman year so was the Coach’s daughter. He had asked senior members of the team to ‘keep an eye on her’ and make sure she didn’t get herself into any trouble. The seniors’ thinking that was lame, were more than happy to pass the task off to the two eager freshmen trying to make a name for themselves. So that’s how it started, The two boys walking you to classes and home from the library late at night, much to your demise. 

“I should’ve known my dad was going to do something like this.” You complained when you saw the two boys waiting outside your dorm the first week of classes. “Thanks for coming. But you can tell my dad that I’m not going to be the freak being escorted by hockey jocks everyday.” 

“No can do, Doll.” Bucky says. “We leave you, we’re doing drills the rest of practice.” 

“Doll? What’re you? A 40s newscaster?” You say, with an annoyed expression walking passed the boys who just followed suit behind you. “Ugh, this is such bullshit. He literally begged me to go to Wilmington and promised I’d be able to have a ‘normal college experience’. What about this is fucking normal?”  

“I know it’s less than ideal but hey, we can make the best out of this.” Steve smiles. “I’m Steve, by the way.” He says extending a hand. 

You shake it. You couldn’t blame them for your dad not trusting you. “Y/N. You?” You asked the other boy next to you. 

“Bucky.” He provides. 

“Bucky?” You question. 

“Well, it’s James but my friends call me Bucky.” 

“And that’s what we are? Friends?” You ask. 

“Might as well be, since we’ll be seeing each other a lot this semester.” 

And that’s how your semi-unconventional friendship started. Pretty soon, even though your dad had eased up on the 24-hour watch, per your mom's request, you still found yourself walking and getting coffee with the two in the mornings. Even, found yourself waiting in the rinks watching practices so you could hang out afterwards and that became your life for the next two years. Now the three of you we’re entering your Junior year of college. Steve was right back in his title role of Captain, Bucky was now first string Left Wing and you were… still watching from the bleachers. You didn’t mind though, you grew to love the sport due to it being your dad’s profession. Hell, you were on skates before you could even walk. But you never found yourself on the women’s team, Hockey wasn’t something you really wanted to do. You still supported the girls team though, which is why you found yourself watching their practices too. 

“Hey, Y/N!” Carol said, skating to the end of the rink where you were sitting next to her girlfriend, Maria. A position you often found yourself in, entertaining player’s girlfriends while they practiced. Maria was cool though, at least you knew about the sport. 

“Hey, Marvel.” You called her by her nickname. Thing about Hockey is everyone was called by their nicknames. 

“You going to the Sigma Pi party later?” She asks. 

“Uh, no one told me about it.” You say, awkwardly. 

“I’m telling you now.” Carol says like it's obvious. “You never go out anymore and I refuse to let you become a cat lady before you turn 25. Come over ours at 7, we’ll pregame and head over at 9. What do you say?” 

“Fine, I’ll come.” You say. 

“Great!” Carol says, pumping a fist before signalling her girlfriend to come closer to the rink. You look away as they kiss. Couples made you uneasy, especially hockey couples. You wanted that more than anything, for your guy to skate up to the gate just to sneak a kiss from you. Not that dating anyone from the team was even an option with you dad coaching. The team saw you as a little sister and if anyone was caught even looking at you in any way, their ass was grass by either your dad or Bucky, who’d become protective of you over the years. 

“Marvel, stop flirting with your girlfriend and GET BACK ON THE ICE!” You heard your dad scream. 

“Sorry, Couch!” She called. “Sorry, baby i’ve gotta jet. Y/N, don’t forget. 7 o’clock!” She says before skating off. 

“I won’t!” You call after her. 

---------------------------------------------------------

You can’t help but look at yourself in the mirror awkwardly at the tight Satin dress your roommate, Wanda practically forced you in. You were just going to wear a sweater and jeans, your regular wardrobe but Wanda insisted everyone had seen you in that and what they haven’t seen is you in a dress. Especially, with your new body, you had gotten over the summer working at a sports camp. Who knew running after kids would be such a great form of exercise? 

Wanda also did your makeup, something you didn’t typically wear, giving you a natural glow eye, a layer of mascara, and sticky gloss that made your look ‘dewy’ as Wanda described it. You tried to keep your hair in the bun but Wanda insisted you keep your hair down. Saying it made you look hotter, you shrugged knowing you’d have to take her word for it. 

The two of you made your way to Carol and Maria’s apartment. Carol swung the door open and looked at you in surprise. “Woah, Ice Baby, you clean up nice.” 

“Don’t start, Marvel. And you know how I feel about being called that.” You hated the nickname but since you were the coach’s daughter and you stuck around the rink any chance you got, The seniors had started calling you Ice Baby your freshman year and the nickname unfortunately stuck long after they had gone. 

“Right, sorry, I always forget.” Carol said moving out the way for the two of you to come in. 

The four of you drink and play games until it’s time to head to the party. You’ve got a pretty strong buzz going as you enter the party and you regret the strappy heels Maria made you borrow before leaving. You’re sitting in the corner when someone comes to sit way too close to you. You look up to see Brock Rumlow, or Rum as the team liked to call him. 

“I almost didn’t recognize you, Ice Baby. You look good.” 

“My name is Y/N but thank you.” You say, annoyed. 

He holds his hands up in mock surrender “I forgot you hate that nickname. Let me bring you a drink to make up for it. What you want.” 

“Rum and coke, please.” 

“Oh, so you like Rum?” He says, obvious double entendre hanging off his tongue. 

“The drink? Yes.” 

“You’ll like the man soon enough.” He winks, smirking at the flush that spreads across your cheeks. 

The two of you spend the night like that. He brings you drinks and shamelessly flirts with you as you get drunker and drunker. The two of you even dance for a bit in the sea of grinding bodies. Soon you’re telling him a story and a hand drifts to your leg. You turn and he’s much closer to your face than you thought he was. 

“Wanna get out of here?” He asks. You nod but before you can even stand, Bucky is there towering over Brock.

“You can leave, Brock. But I’m taking Y/N home.” He says. 

Brock rolls his eyes. “Forgot you had a Winter Soldier guard dog. No worries, dude. I’m leaving anyway.” He says, before turning to you. “You’ve got my number, call me if you wanna hang this week.” He says, nodding to Bucky before walking away. 

“Ugh, Bucky. What was that for?” You whine, drunkenly. 

“You’re drunk. I’m taking you home.” Bucky says. “Come on, stand up.” 

You shakingly get up and Buck is there immediately under your arm, his arm around your waist helping you walk out. 

The cold breeze hits you as soon as you step foot out the party and take the long trek home. 

“I think I drank too much.” You point out. 

“You think, kid?” Bucky says. “You’re lucky, I was here meeting Sharon otherwise you would’ve been shit out of luck.” 

“Brock would’ve taken me home.” 

“Brock’s a lowlife. Don’t worry about him, I’ve got you.” 

You sigh. “Sorry for ruining your night with your girlfriend.” 

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll call her when I make sure you get home so if you could pick up the pace.” 

“My feet hurt.” You complain. 

“Yea, I bet. God, when did you start wearing heels, Doll?” 

“I wanted to look good tonight.” You sigh. 

“You always look good.” 

“Fine, I wanted to look hot.” You provide. “For once, I wanted to be the one guys paid attention to at parties.” 

“You can be yourself for that, Y/N.” Bucky says. “You’re a catch.” 

“If I was, someone would’ve fucked me by now.” You drunkenly admit. That makes Bucky double-take. “I mean, think about it? 3 years into my college career, I turn 21 in a couple months and still it's where no man’s gone before down there.” 

“Y/N, are you saying you’re--” 

“A virgin? Yea, Bucky catch up.” You groan at the pain in your feet. Bucky looks and takes sympathy on you. 

“Here take off your shoes.” He says, toeing his off as well and sliding them over to you. 

“You’re just going to walk barefoot?” You ask, putting on the shoes, holding your heels in your hand. 

“Better than you walking barefoot.” He shrugs. 

“Anyway, I decided over the summer that maybe I was putting too much thought into it. I mean almost everyone loses their virginity in high school and it's never good, no one ever says their first time was good. I just thought maybe I should just, you know, get it over with.” You slur. “Which is what I was trying to do until you chased my date away. God, you always do that, Bucky.” 

“I’m not fighting with you while you’re drunk.” Bucky says, trying to get you to drop the subject but you persist. 

“Every time I try to talk to a guy, you butt in--” 

“Maybe I wouldn’t butt in if you picked the right guys for you.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with the guys I pick! You’re just a cockblock.” 

“That’s not true.” 

“Yea what about Charles? He asked me on a date freshman year and took it back not even an hour later. I had to beg Steve to tell me why and it turned out that you threatened him if he even thought about going out with me.” 

“Y/N, you had just turned 18 and X was a 24 year old senior! I didn’t trust how he was just waiting. So yea, I told him to fuck off. And Rum is an asshole who can’t get a girl to sleep with him unless they’re shitfaced. So yea, I told him to fuck off.” Bucky exclaims as the two of you make it up the stairs to your apartment. “Y/N, you’ll find someone right for you and that right person will make your first time special. I just want you to find someone who’ll make you happy.” 

“And I just want you to remember for next time that if you want to tell a girl who she can and can’t fuck, you have Sharon for that. Not me.” You said, taking off the shoes as you arrived at your front door. 

“Y/N, wait--” You hear him say but you don’t care, you slam the door in his face regardless. 

Who did Bucky think he was? Sure, he was your best friend but so was Steve and he’s not nearly as protective as Bucky was. You honestly couldn’t tell who was worse at this point, your dad or Bucky. You loved both of them but they had the fatal flaw of forgetting you weren’t a kid. You were a woman, a woman with needs. And one particular need you needed to get rid of.   

So you picked up your phone and called Brock. Bucky couldn’t be right about everything.

Taglist: @buckybarneshairpullingkink @riverofcrestmont @babymango-writes @astralsaf @gabi-socio @hereforalongtime512​

[backtoyuta]

NCT 127: at a frat party

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❁ [Taeil] Introverted confidant; Taeil is the guy you go to to seek solace in when you're not really feeling the vibe. Maybe the music sucked, the drinks weren't having an effect on you or it was too rowdy, whatever the problem was you could always sneak away or locate him somewhere a little quieter and just observe the mess from a distance. He'll laugh appreciatively if you took the initiative to sneak some snacks or drinks laid out and ruffle you hair playfully to thank you, making astute remarks about how drunk his friends are and groan about how he'll probably have to carry one of them home later. It's likely that you'll both be stuck with the task of making sure everyone gets home safe, shove bread in someone's mouth in hopes of it helping somehow even if you're not totally sober yourself. Maybe he gets really into the party once in a while, and when he does he benignly encourages you to let loose yourself and join in the fun, however it's almost always a guarantee that you'll end up taking a breather from the noise together in the garden, the part of the living room that isn't occupied, in desperate situations a random storage cupboard (Everybody got the wrong idea with that one) (No, you never quite lived it down). It's a nice feeling to see his expression perk when he finally sees you, the quick hug you always exchange, the knowing glances when your social batteries are already dying and its time to dip.

❁ [Johnny] Life of the party; Being the extroverted king he is, Johnny is the guy you might end up holding onto his sleeve for most of the night, figuratively. The guy that knows everyone, he'll happily adopt you if you look like you feel out of your depth and kindly make you a drink and usher you towards a group to try and let loose. Being with Johnny means a lot of attention, being introduced to people here and there and him playfully picking on you during drinking games, volunteering to make a fool of himself when someone dares you to do something a little too outrageous. Johnny is the comfort you need whilst simultaneously the reason for your death because drunk Johnny means a lot of shameless flirting and eye contact from across the kitchen counter, as well as keeping you close to his side and out of reach when someone else tries the same thing on you. At some heinous hour in the morning the rooms are considerably emptier, discarded cups everywhere and chiller music is humming from the bluetooth speakers, you could kid yourself that it was just you two even though you're sitting in a pool of people. His arm swung casually around your shoulders, "Did you have a good time?" Falling from his mouth slightly slurred and giving you an affectionate squeeze and a lazy kiss to the top of your head when you nod your head yes.

❁ [Taeyong] Hangover mum no. 1; We all know Taeyong has his maternal vibe going on, but lest we forget he too is a guy in his mid twenties looking for a good time. That being said, he wasn't surprised when Johnny dropped you off to his charge, the smell of alcohol radiating off of you, your appearance looking a lot more fragile from what he remembered when you first arrived that evening. He was incredibly patient, letting you rest in his bedroom while you sipped your water, salty pretzels at the ready for when you got the munchies and if disaster struck, he didn't judge when he pushed your hair back for a tactical chunder. He would assure you that you weren't keeping him from his friends when it had been a little while, and would keep a close eye on you when you rejoin the group, just a cup of lemonade in your grasp as a means of preventing a relapse. He's the guy that doesn't pressure you to join during drinking games, is perfectly content to give you his hoodie and let you sidle up to him as means of comfort and just observe everyone else admitting to disgusting truths during Never Have I Ever. At the end of the night he walks to your pace, will listen and hum attentively at any drunken musings that fall out of your mouth he knows you'll regret telling him tomorrow.

❁ [Yuta] King of the drinking games; Yuta isn't the type to shy away from a good time, and he's always front and centre when it comes to lowkey humiliating himself in Ring of Fire, truth or dare, or any of the classics. His confidence outweighs the most disgusting things he's admitted to doing, the embarrassment of what someone dared him to do and you've never seen someone chug a drink with so much gusto. Always manages to come up with the most evil questions, hitting right where it hurts and you dread when his turn rolls around again and his gaze lands on you. He's impressed when you take up his dares with dignity, or admit shamelessly to any hidden tattoos or piercings. If you caught his interest, will switch on the scorpio and keep his gaze trained on you for the rest of the night, will try and pry any information out of you by keeping you included in conversations and will 100% invite you to his room when the party is over. His demeanour reads as chaotic, he thrives being around his friends, but you somehow manage to unlock that calmer more intuitive part of him when he catches you outside the bathroom to check that he didn't go too far during one of the infamous games being played in the living room.

❁ [Doyoung] Hangover mum no.2; We've all seen the sweet and caring side of Doyoung jump out before, so if you're on your merry way towards being wasted he can't help but intervene to make sure you're ok. Don't be fooled though, he doesn't really have the patience of Taeyong, so expect a whole lotta tough love. He won't hesitate to flick you on the forehead when you get a little too in his face, though he deliberately doesn't do it too hard. Inadvertently gives off the impression that you're a nuisance as he scoffs and sighs at you weeping over a packet of crisps, has to later make a point of assuring you that "you're fine, you should just know better". There's an air of fondness that lingers when you settle down a bit and start to enjoy yourself at a more acceptable level of tipsiness and he insists that he walks you home. "Begrudgingly" hands over his jacket when you complain about being cold even though that was his plan all along, and takes mental notes of all the ridiculous drunken comments you make so he can torment you with them later.

❁ [Jaehyun] The guy who may or may not be responsible for your death; One thing about Jaehyun, he's the guy who's terrible at mixing drinks. Don't look at Johnny, he won't help you, when you asked for sex on the beach expect anal on the rocks because Jaehyun knows jack shit about ratio of alcohol to mixer. Don't worry too much, as much as it's his fault for accidentally getting you trashed, he takes as much responsibility for looking after you and making sure you have a good time. Lowkey turns into a frat boy cliche, the hat is on backwards and he's already tugging your arm to coerce you into being his partner for beer pong. He drinks most of the cups whenever you lose to make up for the terrifying concoctions he had you drink earlier and celebrates over excessively when you win by wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and lifting you in to the air slightly. His harmless nice chad vibes make for good company and there's the tingly feeling of chemistry when he laughs loudly at your jokes, eyes turning into little crescents and dimples popping, he watches proudly and thinks "that's my girl" when you make all his friends laugh with you.

❁ [Jungwoo] Level 300 clinger; whether you're moving between groups, leaving to get more food, or shifting to get a better view of the beer pong table, Jungwoo will find a way to squeeze in next to you some way some how. You can always feel an arm ghosting around your waist or around your shoulders, or hear his giggle right there beside your ear. After spending so much time on your feet, you both eventually flop on the sofa, a tangled mess of limbs whilst you try and catch your breath. People keep asking if you're together because of the excessive physical contact, and you hate how he thrives at you scrambling awkwardly for an answer to convey that wasn't the case while he just smiles innocently, making no effort to debunk the comments. There's a high chance that if either of you end up staying over in the other's house, he'll make sure he'll consensually sleep right there next to you, talking randomly about any topic that crosses his mind until you fall asleep. The mornings involve laughing at each other's bed head until you tune into your hangover's, sharing the one bottle of water while scrambling for painkillers and nagging at each other for not cutting either of you off when you went too far.

❁ [Mark] Lightweight; to keep it short and simple, Mark Lee proved himself to be a bit of a lightweight from the get-go, and now here you were, the room dim and bass thumping while Mark laughs loudly at whatever Johnny was saying and you haven't even been there for an hour yet. Mark is the guy that is kinda hard to keep track of, you thought you saw him in the kitchen but now he's messing around with Haechan in the garden and each time you regroup with him he's even more drunk than before. He always finds you eventually, maybe you were taking a load off at the snack table, munching crisps and replying to texts when a lanky arm swings over your shoulders and Mark's smily face is way too close to your line of sight asking if you're OK. If he feels he's neglected you for too long he overcompensates by ushering you to his current group and making a point of pulling a fold out chair right next to his, his laugh dominating the conversation even if the joke wasn't that funny. When the night draws to a close, he settles down, the lack of people taking a toll on his energy and that's where he engages in conversations way too deep for a frat party and way too personal for just friends, though you never worried, there was no way he would remember any of this tomorrow.

❁ [Haechan] Partner in crime; That one friend who you end up hanging with the whole night, even if that wasn't the intention. Haechan doesn't fear drunkenness, it doesn't seem like he fears anything, and he'll always without fail drag you down with him. He's the guy that cheers obnoxiously when you down your shot, always picks on you in the drinking games because he loves to see you embarrassed and the one you sneak away with to try cigarettes even if it turns out you don't really like them. His famous last words are always "I'll do it if you do it" and that's the story of how you both ended up jumping into a neighbour's pool completely wasted, and now hoarding the bottle of tequila. Haechan is the guy that kind of makes you make a complete fool out of yourself, but always assures you that nobody will remember by the morning and to just live in the moment. Your favourite part of these frat parties is always looking through your photos the next day and laughing at all the horrendous selfies and videos he took before you noticed he had your phone for the last 15 minutes.

[nbrook29]

Kiss or Slap

Sander doesn’t remember when exactly their group made the riverside near the Scheldt their new hangout spot, but he couldn’t be more grateful for it as a cold breeze washes over his overheated body, providing a momentary relief against the scorching heat falling from the sky. It’s probably why the park is fuller than it usually is on Thursday afternoons, packed with people spread on their picnic blankets, searching for a bit of shadow under the big trees and desperately craving a bit of wind. 

It’s so hot he doesn’t even feel like sketching, preferring to just lie on the grass without moving a single muscle, and dying in peace. Even the enticing smell of cinnamon rolls that Noor brought with her isn’t enough for him to reach out and take one from the basket, the action requiring too much movement on his part.

“Guys, come on, we have to start or we’ll never get it done! Sander, get your lazy ass up.” He grunts when he feels Leon’s merciless fingers jabbing him in the ribs.

“Can’t we wait until it gets a little less hot?”

“No, cause that’s not happening in the nearest future and we need new content,” Nathan butts in, followed by Noor, which makes Sander officially outvoted. So he heaves a deep sigh, puts his shirt back on and ruffles his hair to make himself more presentable, rolling his eyes at Noor’s appreciative whistling.

“Someone’s gonna snatch himself a bunch of kisses today with that smoldering look,” she teases, pretending to give him a once over.

“Is that your way of telling me you want one for yourself, sweetheart?” He’s immensely proud of himself when her entire face scrunches up in disgust.

“Eww, no, feels like incest at this point.” Which is kinda true given the fact they’ve known each other since kindergarten and became best friends making sand castles. He fires an obnoxious wink at her, fully anticipating a shove which comes as expected within seconds, with Noor calling him a creep in between laughter.

“Who should we start with? Senne? Wanna go first?” Sander watches as Leon takes out his camera equipment and checks the settings as the rest collects their things.

“I guess, yeah. And then Nathan after me?”

“I’m not doing it, man, you know Britt, she’s gonna flip out.”

“Be a good reason to break up with her,” Sander mutters under his breath, not really feeling apologetic when Nathan shoots him a glare. It would be a long time coming, and honestly, Sander can’t wait for that moment to come. Just being in her presence gives him chills, she’s that much of a horrible person. A few years ago, he read something about alternate universes and sometimes when he looks at her he can’t help but think there’s a history there with the two of them, in a past life or something. At least it would explain that weird energy between them.

If it’s true, he feels very sorry for that Sander. 

He roots for him to run far away from said devil’s spawn.

“I can go next, I don’t have the ball and chain,” Noor says innocently, but she’s smirking over Nathan’s shoulder at Sander who pretends to high five her in their shared hatred for Britt.

“Yeah, us lonely birds will sacrifice ourselves and take the hit for the wellbeing of our channel,” Sander laments playfully, making Senne snort.

“Dude, you’re on your own by your own choice.”

“And pickiness. Don’t forget pickiness,” Noor adds smugly.

Sander huffs in protest. “I’m not picky! I just...” He cuts off because he’s not about to just explain it all now.

“Just what?”

“Specific about what I want.”

Brown curls, brown eyes, shortish, lean, pierced ear, cute giggle, elegant hands and a smile brighter than the sun. 

To be exact.

“Yeah. That’s picky.”

“Whatever,” he replies grumpily, and decides to ignore Noor’s knowing look. Sometimes he feels like she has a sixth sense and can read him like a book. Or she’s just less oblivious than the boys in their friend group. That’s a totally possible option too.

Thankfully, she doesn’t push him further (she’s awesome like that), though Sander has a feeling she’s gonna grill him later when they’re alone. For now, she checks her lipstick in her phone as they all briefly plan the video.

Not like there’s that much to plan; a few days ago, they decided to shoot a kiss or slap challenge for their YouTube channel because it had been wildly requested by their viewers.

Sander still doesn’t quite know how he became a part of a YouTube channel in the first place, always considering himself to be a bit more, well, sophisticated than that? But Leon was into it from the beginning and made them all participate in exchange for free beer, until one day one of their videos blew up.

If you can call getting 100k views on one video blowing up. 

Anyway, they got semi-popular amongst Flemish teens and even managed to snatch a sponsorship with Mentos (however small the offer was) that paid actual money. And he had just managed to move out of his family house so any money coming his way he welcomed with no questions asked. 

So they’ve kept shooting silly challenges slash anything else that’s a trend at a given time and have been able to cover their art supply needs with what little they earned. And, though Sander refused to admit it in the beginning, it’s actually kinda fun. It’s definitely better than his part time job at Pull&Bear where he has to deal with obnoxious customers on an almost daily basis.

They record a short introduction near the river, quickly going over the rules and explaining that the three of them will be competing in who gets more kisses versus slaps. 

“Hey, you know what, this is actually unfair cause you both can kiss anybody,” Senne points out all of a sudden, receiving four pairs of unimpressed glances.

“No one’s stopping you from getting kisses from boys too, dude,” Sander is quick to shut him up, shit-eating grin on his face as he gives him his first (light) slap to the cheek. 

They follow Senne around the park with a camera as he turns on his charm and smiles sweetly at the girls he chooses for the challenge, doing surprisingly well on the first few attempts. But when they venture deeper into the park and he tries his luck with college girls, he gets 5 slaps in the row to the rest of the group’s utter delight. In the end, his results are a blow to his pride and even Sander feels sorry for him, giving him a pat on the back while trying to hold his laughter in at Senne’s grumpy face.

Noor does much better, naturally, as her upbeat personality and a wide smile have always made boys and girls turn their heads. She gets a kiss after kiss, blush after blush, and two phone numbers in the process. Senne argues again that it’s unfair because no one’s gonna slap a girl anyway, but Leon just calls him a sore loser while Noor shamelessly flirts in French with another girl right in front of the camera.

Sander’s very proud.

Taking a quick sip of water, he gives Leon a thumbs up and starts his round, coming over to three blond girls chilling near the skateboarding ramps, trying very hard not to come off as creepy and clarifying the kiss part being only a cheek kiss. The girls erupt in giggles, but they all grant him a light kiss. One of them tries to flirt with him after, but he shoots her down before she can get too into it.

“Such a heartbreaker, you,” Noor coos at Sander’s pained face when they all walk away.

“That’s you, and you actually enjoy it,” he quips back, sticking his tongue at her.

“I do not, shut up!”

Fifteen minutes and fourteen kisses later he’s officially in the lead, sealing his victory with a kiss number fifteen he receives from a cute redhead. He’s gloating in Senne’s bemused face about nobody choosing to slap him when he stops in his tracks.

It’s the proof of his hopeless infatuation that he’d recognize that laugh everywhere.

He looks around for its source, but he comes up short. Then, his eyes focus on the skatepark area and his heart starts beating faster.

Because it feels like a sign. Like the universe is giving him a chance to finally do something. Make a move.

“Hey, can we shoot one more try?” He asks the guys, trying to sound casual while glancing furtively in the direction of brown curls.

“You’ve already won, but I guess?”

Nobody questions him about his reasons, they just follow him to the ramp.

And he’s so fucking nervous. 

It’s incredible, really, how he generally has no problems talking to people he’s interested in, conversation flowing without him even trying, gaining easy smiles and appreciative looks wherever he goes, some natural confidence to him. 

But that boy. That boy is something else.

He makes him question everything he says, makes his palms sweat and makes his deep hidden shyness come onto the surface.

Sander saw him for the first time during Open Day at the Academie in may, strolling casually through the hallway with his friend, completely oblivious to the turmoil he was causing to Sander’s heart.

That was the day Sander saw an angel. 

Fate placed him on his path again sooner than he could’ve hoped, the boy participating in a 2 week film course at his school only several days after he saw him for the first time. And he tried so hard to convince himself to talk to him over that time, but he only managed a few smiles while passing him by in the hallway. 

That and that one stupid joke he said to him while they were waiting in line at the cafeteria that makes him cringe in despair just thinking about it. Seriously, it’s like his entire cool evaporates when he’s near him.

But, the boy laughed at it. So maybe it wasn’t as horrible as Sander is making it to be. Or he was just being nice. 

Robbe. 

Robbe, who he’s been crushing on ever since that fateful day in may.

Robbe, who was at the same party he was last weekend.

Robbe, who he talked to at that party and managed to calm his nerves enough to be charming and funny.

Robbe, who giggled, blushed and bit his lip at Sander’s dumb jokes that evening.

Robbe, who slipped through his fingers because Sander blacked out soon after.

He almost never drinks, but that one night he did, celebrating the beginning of summer break, and not realizing his usual abstinence meant he was now officially a lightweight. What an awful timing.

Robbe doesn’t notice him right away, having his back turned to him while talking animatedly to his friends. Taking a deep breath and plastering a smile to his face to hide his nervousness, he approaches them.

“Hey guys, got a second?”

He notices the recognition in Robbe’s face right away, and Sander shoots him a quiet “hi” when his eyes meet his, an unsure smile blooming on his face.

“Hey, what’s up?” One of the boys nods at the camera.

“I’m Sander, and we’re shooting a video for our YouTube channel, the kiss or slap challenge,” he quickly explains, the boys’ faces lighting up.

“Hey, we have a channel too! I’m Moyo, this is Jens, Aaron, and Robbe.” Moyo reaches out to bump his fist with him and damn, Sander has to find that channel if Robbe is a part of it.

Jens levels him with a look. “So, you want us to kiss you or slap you?” 

“Pretty much, yeah?” Sander chuckles because he’s aware it’s ridiculous, but he’s a man on a mission here, give him a break.

“I think Robbe should represent all of us, don’t you think so?” Moyo proposes, tongue in his cheek as he checks with the rest of his friends. Sander catches the death glare Robbe sends the boy before looking back at him and crossing his arms, looking a bit out of place. And, fuck, the last thing Sander wants is to make him uncomfortable.

So he asks softly, “you’re in?” and waits for agonizing five seconds as Robbe watches him, eyes narrowed, before his features smooth out and he smiles at him.

“Sure, why not.”

Relieved, Sander lets out a chuckle and tries to keep his cool. “Okay then - kiss or slap?”

Robbe squints against the sun and makes him wait another few seconds before he answers, but Sander’s not worried because there’s a soft smile on his face and obviously his angel wouldn’t-

“Slap.”

Wait, what.

He can hear his friends bursting in laughter at this unexpected turn of events while Sander can only stare in shock because how could he miscalculate the situation this much?

Gulping, confused and heartbroken, he asks, “you’re sure?”, to which Robbe nods with a poorly hidden glee.

“But you have to close your eyes cause I can’t hit you while you're looking at me.”

Heaving a deep sigh and trying to save a face despite the humiliation flooding his body, he nods and closes his eyes, steeling himself for it.

But it never comes.

Suddenly, he feels a hand cupping his cheek and he flinches a little, but then soft lips touch his in a kiss so gentle he blinks his eyes open, not knowing what’s happening.

“That was payback for you promising to call me and not keeping your word,” Robbe whispers against his lips before leaning away, something sad and wistful passing through his face. Sander is left completely dumbfounded, ignoring the hollering from the two groups as his eyes fleet all over Robbe’s face.

It’s difficult for him to collect his thoughts because holy fuck, Robbe has just kissed him and he’s internally freaking out. He finally manages to get his bearings when the remnants of a smile slip off Robbe’s lips.

“I-, Robbe, you have no idea how much I wanted to call you, but I don’t have your number.”

“I gave it to you. At the party?” He doesn’t look like he believes a word Sander is saying.

“Um, I kinda blacked out and don’t remember much after like one-ish?”

“You saved it though, I saw you typing it in,” Robbe argues again, but this time he doesn’t look so sure. “Wait, what’s your number?”

Sander watches him entering digit after digit before hitting call. He fully expects a plain number to appear on his screen, eyes widening when he sees what pops up instead.

zk bambieys 🥺🦌👁️💘🧡💖💞 calling

“Fuck, you did give me your number.” He’s not fast enough to hide his screen from Robbe, but he can't even feel embarrassment once he notices the frown disappeared from his face.

“Bambi eyes?” There's a teasing note in his voice, but his pink cheeks sell him out.

Sander scratches his head. "I was very drunk, you can't hold it against me. Also, your eyes are really beautiful," he clarifies, winking when Robbe laughs at his shameless flirting. "Hey, I tried to find you on instagram, but nothing came up. I was really hoping we're gonna bump into each other again. Sorry for being a dumbass and not realizing I had your number this entire time?”

“It’s okay.” Robbe shoves his hand into the pockets of his jeans, swaying on his heels. Sander decides to put them both out of their misery and take the initiative.

“So if I asked you out, would you say yes?”

It looks like Robbe’s about to nod, but then he bites his lip, an almost cheeky smile directed at him. “I guess you have to call me to find out.” And then he gets on his skateboard and casually skates away to the nearest ramp, pulling a surprised laugh out of Sander.

If he was intrigued before, now he’s totally smitten with this wonder of a boy, because damn. 

Their friends finally seem to regain their voices and speak over each other at what just happened, but Sander doesn’t pay them any attention, just takes out his phone again and pressing the call button. 

Watching as Robbe comes to a full stop at the top of the ramp, he cocks his head with a grin and waits until he picks up.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Sander.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Robbe laughs into the speaker.

“Will you go out with me?”

He meets his eyes across the skatepark as Robbe makes him wait again.

Then, with a smile so radiant it overshadows the sun, the boy finally gives him his answer.

“Yes.”

[pascalpanic]

Benny’s Girl (Prequel to Before The Next Teardrop Falls)

Inspo: Jessie’s Girl by Rick Springfield

Pairings: Benny Miller x f!Reader, later Frankie Morales x f!Reader (in Before The Next Teardrop Falls)

Summary: Benny’s new girlfriend is everything Catfish wants and more. Too bad it’s his best friend’s girl.

W/C: <4k

Warnings: language, sexual content, pining ohhh my word pining. 

A/N: HI FRIENDS <3 I absolutely loved Before The Next Teardrop Falls and I LOVE writing pining, especially with my Frankie baby, so I decided to make a prequel to it! This fic is based on Jessie’s Girl by Rick Springfield, which I absolutely ADORE. you can read this as a stand alone or you can read it as a prequel, I think either one works well!!

Sometimes, a spark seems to appear where one never existed. It’s common enough; it’s the reason most relationships fizzle out before they can become something explosive and fiery. One thinks that the dynamite is going to explode and take off in a bright shower of colors, when in reality the lighter never truly lit the wick.

That’s what happened between you and Benny Miller. You’d loved the guy, really, but not in the way you thought. You still do. It’s just that the both of you were lonely people seeking something more than your past had given you. The two of you were hopeless romantics. Maybe that’s what started the relationship.

You’d met in a way typical for the younger Miller brother. You’d been at a bar with some friends who were desperate to get you laid. The same could be said for Benny, who was there not with his brothers-in-arms but the man he’d defeated in the ring that night. Nick and Benny were good enough friends, close enough that losing to the other was rarely a sore spot. 

He’d spotted you across the bar, thought your laughing face was beautiful and your smile as you locked him was magnetic, drawing him to you before he could stop himself. Natural attraction. You introduced yourself. He told you his name was Benny. You asked why his hands were taped, he explained that he was a professional fighter, you’d made some snarky joke and you ended up talking for the rest of the night. One of your friends left with Nick. You and Benny stayed until the bartender shouted that it was the last call. You wrote your number on his taped palm and he saved it. 

You went on two bar dates before he decided he needed to introduce you to his best friends. They were like brothers to him, they knew everything about him and he knew them inside and out. You went to the same bar as you’d met at, and you met the men he’d served with in his Special Ops days.

Santiago, known as Pope for some godforsaken reason, was a charmer. He’d kissed your hand after shaking it, complimenting you and making small talk, finding connections and building on them. You’d laughed at the man’s joking advances, and flirted right back. Benny squirmed lightly, but you kissed his cheek and assured him you were just playing along.

William, Will, Ironhead, was Benny’s older brother. He’d given you a warm clap on the back and shook your hand, telling you that you were brave for putting up with the rascally guy. You had to admit, it was fitting. It was clear that they’re brothers: they had the same furrow to their brow, their blue eyes widened in reaction to anything, they had a similar habit of tipping their head back to laugh when something was especially funny. 

Frankie Morales, Catfish, was the last one you met and most definitely your favorite. He was quieter than the other guys, sat back while the other men made the noise. He was the punching bag, taking the brunt of the hyperbolized jokes- how Catfish hadn’t slept with a woman in 10 years, how he was the loud one of the group, how he was the one you had to look out for when he was drunk. You knew none of them could be true. He had a sweet smile and gave you a nod when you introduced yourself. He and Pope had some kind of banter between the two of them, albeit a banter you couldn’t understand as someone who didn’t speak Spanish. 

Throughout the night, you found yourself more drawn to Frankie. He had a beautiful laugh, would pull his ball cap down a little lower when someone made a joke about him. He was the one who’d expose a lie Benny or Santiago took. He nursed one beer while the other men got rowdy, and you’d done the same. It seemed that the two of you found kindred spirits in each other over the course of the night, while Benny and Will and Santi smacked each other around and took an obnoxious amount of trips to the bathroom.

When it was time to head out, you’d hugged each of the men goodbye. It was already clear that you fit in just like one of them, even if you didn’t have the past experience that bonded the men. You hugged Frankie last. He was the best hugger; he wasn’t ridiculously ripped like Benny, firm and awkward like Will, or flirtatious like Santiago. He was strong but soft. The man was definitely a hugger, you could tell, and it was comforting for the brief moment or two you were in his arms. 

Frankie put his cap on your head teasingly, covering your eyes, then stole it back and gave you a pat on the back. “Ben’s a wild one. Good luck with him,” he teased and walked off. You had to admit, his ass had a nice curve to it as he walked off to his beat-up truck. “Call me if he does anything stupid and I’ll beat his ass for you,” he called over his shoulder, prompting Benny to flip him off and put an arm around you. He simply laughed and got in his car.

-

Frankie became your favorite of the group. The two of you are the ones teasing each other exclusively and sitting quietly while the other men get crazy. Frankie tries sips of the cocktails you order, excitedly making grabby hands when the bartender sets it down. He always lets you steal some of the food he orders when you’re at the bar longer than normal. He shares your affinity for classic rock and when the bar blasts AC/DC, it’s Frankie who screams the lyrics to Thunderstruck with you while the others cover their ears. Santiago joins in sometimes too, but the country-loving Miller brothers never quite know all of the words like Catfish does. 

At some point in the few month relationship, you earn your nickname of Queenie. It’s from teasing Santiago, and the one who bestows the title upon you is Will, the most stoic of the group. It’s an honor, you tell them all, laughing. You call the shots, and everyone follows. Even though Benny is your lover, Frankie is your second-in-command.

When Frankie does allow himself to get drunk, he’s the most fun of the group. He’s extra lovey, telling the men how much he appreciates them. He tells stories the other men won’t about their Special Ops days, about the stupid things Will did when they were abroad. He’s shamelessly goofy and funny and falls all over the men. You even convince him to do karaoke with you once.

Benny is an overgrown class clown, but he won’t do karaoke, no matter how hard you begged him, called him baby and pressed soft kisses to his face. He wouldn’t budge. Tonight was a rare night that Frankie drank more than one round. “I’ll do it!” He shouts excitedly, eyes lighting up. “Ooh, c’mon, it’ll be fun. We’ll be so good at it.”

You, unfortunately, were not good at it, but you had the time of your life with Frankie. On that barely-raised platform, the two of you sang Don’t Go Breakin’ My Heart, completely out of tune and out of sync. You were giggling the whole time, especially at Frankie’s falsetto on the little “woo-hoo”s. 

The two of you tumbled back to the table after, you giggling and falling into Benny’s arms. “Did you like it?” You cooed, sitting on his lap.

Benny laughed genuinely, pressing a kiss to your face. “Sure did. That was fantastic. Maybe you’ll have to sing just for me sometime, huh?” He teases.

Frankie sits alone on his barstool at the end and downs the rest of his beer. He flashes you a quick smile when your eyes meet his and he retires early for the night.

-

You and Benny had sex a couple of times. He was good at it, good enough. You enjoyed the way his lips moulded to yours, the way his thrusts were quick and fast and properly angled. From a technical standpoint, he should’ve been perfect. It was all you wanted, but there was no real connection behind it. The moans that trailed from your lips were small and soft, and the louder ones were never genuine. He always made you orgasm, at least, but it was slow and dull, the kind you’d wring from yourself with just two fingers.

The two of you had fun together. You went to the county fair, you got boisterous and drunk at bars, you did everything two twentysomethings are expected to do in a relationship. After every date, you had a small sad smile on your face as you got in your bed and distracted yourself with something on your phone. Something about it wasn’t right: you didn’t connect soulfully, in some mystical and spiritual way where one can read the other’s mind, in the way that movies and books and legendary romances felt some kind of supernatural force that pulled the strings and led them closer. It wasn’t what you needed, but it was what you wanted, and so you hung on a little longer.

Benny felt the same, but he was too afraid to disrupt the balance. He’d rather be mediocrely happy than alone again. He liked having a girl to squeeze water into his mouth and wipe his sweat after a fight, someone to slide his dick into while her lips met his skin. He didn’t want to lose that, even if he was slowly realizing that he just wanted a friendship with you.

You hung out with him and the other men more. You realized that he wasn’t your boyfriend around them, more of a sibling, teasing and nudging. There was no affection, no romance, just the playful aspect of him. That was fine, you told yourself, until you realized that it wasn’t, it couldn’t be.

-

By principle, Frankie is not and refuses to be a jealous man. That changed when you came into the picture. 

Something about you is absolutely magnetic to him, more than the way Benny was drawn to you across the bar. Sure, he’s been attracted to many girls, but he wants you. He yearns for you. He makes a joke at the table and it doesn’t make anyone but you laugh, but he doesn’t give a shit that Benny and Will and Santiago don’t find it funny, because he gets to watch the way your eyes glimmer and your mouth falls open and your chest heaves with the beautiful ring of your laughter.  

He loves that you hug goodbye, because he gets to pretend for a moment that you’re his and he is yours, that he can press his lips to your soft skin and call you his girl. But you’re Benny’s girl, and he’s okay to live like that. He’d rather have you as a friend than not have you at all. Even if he dreams about you at night, even if you live in his head on repeat, saying his name. Frankie, baby, I want you, I want you…

One night, in his sleep, the sound of those words echoed through his head. He’s never heard you say them, but his unconscious brain assembled them like a beautifully haunting jigsaw puzzle that made all of his blood run south. 

Dream-you is standing in the doorway to his bedroom, wearing just his t-shirt. Dream-you smirks, walks closer, climbs over Frankie and presses her lips to his and her tongue delves into his mouth. She lies down onto him and grinds her hips to his and laughs and laughs and he presses his face into the curve of her- your- neck, smelling your perfume and grinding his hips back against dream-you’s. “All I want is you, Frankie,” dream-you mumbles and bites his lower lip. He shivers and dream-you coos his name, lines herself over his aching member and just before she slides down, he wakes up to a dark and lonely bedroom with a half-hard dick. 

You and Benny joined the gang the next night out. He couldn’t meet your eyes. He listened as you fussed over Benny, heard you call him baby and steal his beer with a giggle. 

“What the fuck has gotten into you, Fish?” Santiago asked when you’re in the bathroom. 

Frankie shook his head. He pulled his cap lower and finished his beer, then poured another from the pitcher on the bar. “Slept like shit last night.”

-

You’ve decided that it needs to end, so you asked Benny to meet him at your favorite bar. He agreed, and wanted to invite the boys, until you asked that it be just the two of you. It hurts that he has a glimmer of hope that you’re about to end things. If you don’t, he will.

You walk in with an apologetic smile, sitting across from him. “Hey, how was your day?” You ask in a soft voice. You’re unconsciously trying to prepare yourself to let him down gently.

He shrugs a little. “Uneventful. Yours?”

“The same. Listen, Benny…” you start and trail off, looking away.

He takes one of your hands and looks at you, his eyes understanding. “Hey. I think I know what this is about.” He reads the sadness in your eyes like a book. “We need to be done. I get that. I agree.”

Your face finds a soft smile as you look back at him. “Really?” You ask.

“Yeah. I have something to ask.”

“Shoot.”

He takes your hand and presses it to his lips softly. “Will you no longer be my girlfriend and just go back to being my friend?” He asks. 

You nod excitedly, laughing. “Oh my god, yes, Benny. I’d love to no longer be your girlfriend.”

The both of you laugh at the irony in your words, and he sets your hand down. “Thank God.”

Later that night, Will, Frankie, and Santiago find their way to the bar. Of course they do. They come over to your booth, sliding in and pretending to love up on Benny. “Oh, are we interrupting a date?” Santiago asks with a fake pout.

You chuckle and look at Benny. He gives you a small smile and a nod. “Actually, no. No more dates between Benny and I. We’re over,” you say and breathe a sigh of relief.

Frankie’s blood runs cold. He must be dreaming for him to hear this. It’s only ever in those dreams that he hears the words he wants the most fall from your lips, words like these. Words that indicate you’re no longer Benny’s girl. “You two seemed so happy,” he murmurs in confusion.

Benny senses it all clicking. Frankie has liked you all along. He’s smarter than the gang gives him credit for. He can read his friends easily, and Frankie is the easiest of all of them to understand, with those big brown eyes that give everything away. It’s gotta be, he thinks. You probably don’t like him back, as anything more than a friend, but Frankie is in deep shit now for you. He nods, looking at Fish and shrugging. “We just didn’t work. We’re still gonna be friends though. She’s one of us, isn’t she?”

The men all cheer in agreement and it calms your frantically beating heart. The worst is over now. And goddamn, does Frankie look cuddly tonight in that flannel, you think to yourself. You slouch down against him two beers later and discover that yes, he’s as comfortable as he looks.

-

You’ve been single for a year now. Benny still texts with you daily, as do the other men. He sends you shitty Facebook memes that seem more like a dad would post. You realize that it’s for the best that you and Benny are over, with a chuckle. You can be much more honest.

It pains you to realize it, but you’re crushing hard on your ex’s best friend. Frankie Morales is everything you need and want and desire. His big arms wrap you in a hug every time the two of you say goodbye, and every time it feels like it lasts a millisecond longer. That neither of you want to let go.

Frankie feels the same, even though you don’t know it. He has that haunting dream once a week, the one where you kiss his neck and call him baby and it makes him yearn every night at 2:00 in the morning, staring at your Instagram page and thinking he should text you and see if you’re up. Not as a hookup, not anything like that. He just wants to talk to you.

You tease Frankie about his chronic insomnia. How he sends you random texts late at night. “Have you considered melatonin?” You ask.

“I have weird dreams. It’s not the falling asleep, it’s the waking up,” he admits, looking in the opposite direction of your face. 

Some days, Frankie thinks you feel the same. He notices the way your eyes linger on his face, the way you always sit next to him in a booth. The way your phone’s lockscreen is a photo of the two of you being stupid at some function. You’ve become best friends, Frankie has to admit, but sometimes he thinks there could be more. But then you say something offhanded and he has to throw the notion away. 

One night at the bar, when it’s just the men and you’re nowhere to be seen, Frankie takes Benny and guides him into the bathroom. His blonde brow furrows in confusion as he looks at Frankie. “Yeah, Fish?”

His hands rub together nervously and he looks down, before fidgeting with his cap and looking Benny in the eye. “You and Queenie… that’s all in the past, right? There’s nothing between the two of you?”

A smirk finds his face. “I knew it, Frank! I knew it from the night her and I broke up.”

He frowns. “Is that why?” He asks hurriedly. “Oh shit, I didn’t break the two of you up, did I? Jesus, Ben, I’m-”

“No, you dumb fuck,” he laughs and shakes his head. “I just saw the way you looked at her after it happened. Crazy in love. You totally are.

Frankie’s face turns red and he takes off his hat to adjust his hair. “Do you think she might like me too?” he asks, quietly. As if you could hear him somehow.

Benny nods, excitement in those bright blue eyes. “Hell yeah she does, Fish! You’re her fucking phone lockscreen. Girls don’t just do that.”

“I don’t know, man, we’re best friends. That might not mean shit.”

The blonde puts his hands on the brunette’s shoulders. “Listen to me, Frankie. I’ve known you’re into her for like a year now. I know she likes you too. It’s time, you gotta ask her out.”

“Really?” He asks, brown eyes widening. “I don’t think so. That could fuck everything up,” he says, the anxiety in his voice.

“Trust me,” Benny nods. “It won’t.” 

Frankie’s grinning ear to ear. “Alright. Tomorrow night, I’ll ask her to meet us here, but it’ll be just me. I’ll ask her out, how does that sound?”

“That sounds fuckin’ amazing, man!” Benny exclaims. “I’m happy for you. She’s a great girl and you’re a great guy.”

“You’re sure you’re okay with this?” he asks, wringing his cap in his hands. 

He nods. “Go for it, Fish.”

- Frankie never gets the chance.

The next night you float into the bar, absolutely on cloud nine. You’re grinning ear to ear and it only widens when you see Frankie, rushing over and hopping on the stool. “Hey Fish,” you coo and kiss his cheek.

Frankie’s stunned. “Hey. How was your day?” He asks hesitantly, looking at how flustered and happy you look.

“So good,” you laugh. “I actually got asked out. Like, on a date. This really sweet guy, friend of a coworker. His name is Sam.”

Frankie’s sure you can hear the crack that echoes inside his ribcage. His heart splits in two and to hide a quivering lip, he raises his glass to his lips and takes a swig of his beer.

You continue to talk about him, noticing his silence. “How was yours?” You ask, frowning a little at how tense he is. You rest a hand on his upper arm.

Frankie does his best not to flinch from your touch. “Not great,” he chuckles and clears his throat. “I kinda fucked something up.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you pout and stroke his arm softly. “Can I help you with it? Do you need to talk about it?”

He shakes his head quickly, standing from his stool. “No, just a personal thing. Hey, I’m gonna run and piss, the other guys will be here soon. Order something, it’s on me.”

Frankie’s gone into the bathroom before you can even process it. You frown a little but the smile returns as you order the drink and think about Sam.

Frankie locks himself in a stall and texts the other men.

D-SQUAD 🚁

Frankie: mission aborted. You guys need to come to the bar now so I don’t look like a chump.

Benny: what happened?

Frankie: a guy asked her out today. she’s taken now I guess

He stares at his phone and sends one last text.

Frankie: and don’t you dare mention it to her. make her tell you first.

He slides his phone in his pocket and leans against the wall of the bathroom stall, letting out a deep sigh. This is all shit. He’s a coward, and he should’ve done something sooner. 

He finally returns and sits next to you on a barstool. There’s a smile on his face that you’d notice was plastered if your mind wasn’t so wrapped up in your day. “So. Tell me about him. I’m happy for you, you know that?”

-

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @softly-sad @blo0dangel @luxurybeskar @binarydanvvers  @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel​ @sanchosammy​

[secretlittlerandezvous]

Explanations - Matthew Tkachuk

Summary: Y/n is an actress and the press likes to share rumors about her. One day Matthew sees pictures of her, and some other guy and he decides that making her jealous is the best way to deal with things.

Note: Requested by my love and written with love for my @star-gazing-game 💘

Words: 2150

Nothing was going right. Ever since Matthew woke up in the morning troubles seemed to follow him everywhere. He spilled hot coffee all over himself, burned his hand while preparing his breakfast, forgot his hockey gear on the way to the ice rink and when he returned home for it, he got stuck in traffic. Y/n was coming home after a few weeks of living in New York and he was strangely nervous about it though he had no reason to worry. Things were great between them; he was crazy for her and it seemed like she was crazy for him as well. But he felt like he needed to do something special to welcome her home but didn’t know what. She didn’t even like surprises.

When he returned home, this time hopefully for good he decided it’d be for his best to just sit down and watch tv and do nothing. He wasn’t the type to sit around and be lazy but from time to time he needed a break and he certainly deserved some rest after the morning’s events.

“Actress Y/n L/n was spotted out and about in New York and it sparked some exciting news,” Matthew immediately turned up the volume of the tv when he heard his girlfriend’s name and with excitement watched the news. “Y/n was spotted with her co-worker and they seemed to be pretty close. The actress hinted a relationship a few weeks ago and ever since then, the fans wanted to know who the lucky and mysterious guy was. Well, they look pretty good together what do you think guys?”

Matthew stared at the screen in shock, the color drained from his face, he had trouble breathing and he felt heartbreaking pain as he scanned the pictures carefully. There she was, Y/n, his girlfriend and her co-worker happily walking around the streets of New York, hand in hand and smiling widely at each other. In one picture it seemed like he leaned down to kiss her cheek but to protect himself Matthew decided the guy probably just whispered something into her ear. Matthew was doing his best to stay calm and not to panic, surely there was an explanation to this situation, and he wanted to believe they were just close friends and nothing more. But the harder he tried the more doubts and questions came to his mind and after a while he found himself questioning every moment from their meeting to this crushing moment.

Y/n and Matthew met almost four months ago during a Christmas event in Calgary, a common friend introduced them, and they hit it off right away. It wasn’t love at first sight, but they found each other familiar as if they met before. They shared common interests and the same opinions on dozens of different things, he made her feel safe and calm which was new for her because whenever she was seeing someone she became a nervous wreck and she could never relax and she made Matthew laugh like no other girl before. Matthew asked Y/n to be his girlfriend just two weeks after they met, and she jumped around his neck and kissed him hundreds of times before she said yes. Quite nervously she then asked Matthew if they could keep their relationship private for a while. Y/n wanted the media to focus on her new movies and not on her love life and she was worried that once the media would found out about it they would do their absolute best to dig up some dirt on both of them. Matthew understood her reasons and he agreed. Y/n was relieved he was so understanding, and Matthew was glad because he himself wanted to keep it lowkey to avoid unnecessary drama.

But now he saw things in a completely different light. What if he was just a distraction, a replacement, and someone to have fun with when she was in Canada and her real boyfriend was waiting for her in the states? What if she wanted to keep their relationship a secret so she could have fun with anyone without being caught? He wanted to call her and confront her, send her the pictures, and ask for an explanation and at the same time, he wanted to pretend she didn’t exist and forget about her.

That evening Matthew decided to have a good time. If she could hang out with other men, he certainly could do the same. It was Friday, they had no game and the boys gladly accepted his invitation to go to a club. He had various reasons to go there. The main one was to make Y/n jealous. He knew there was a high chance of pictures and videos of him having fun with other girls would appear across social media. Another reason was to drown his sorrows in alcohol and another one was to have at least a little bit of fun that day. The music was sensual and loud, the club was crowded to the absolute maximum and as soon as the girls found out he was a hockey player they were all over him. Exactly what he needed.

Especially one girl caught his eyes. A girl with golden skin that glowed in the neon lights, her brown curly hair framed her face nicely and her eyes were full of lust and she shamelessly flirted with him and hinted a few times she was available if he was interested. With each sip of his drink, he got closer to her until she was pressed against his body completely and they danced like one person. He liked it and to his horror, he enjoyed every move, every touch, and every smile she gave him. She was tempting him, and he had a hard time resisting her. And maybe because she noticed something was holding him back or maybe she was just tired of waiting she grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulled him down closer to her, and eagerly kissed him. He didn’t kiss her back at first, but she didn’t stop, and he soon wrapped his hands around her neck and kissed her back.

“Finally,” she murmured against his mouth with a satisfied smile and continued kissing him until he pulled away and took a few steps back. “What?”

“Sorry. I’m sorry this was a mistake.” He hoped she would forgive him because he didn’t like it when someone was angry at him, but it was too late. She was already angry and mostly disappointed she wasn’t going home with him.

Matthew said goodbye to the boys, called a taxi, and wanted to get home as fast as possible. He couldn’t wait to go to bed and forget about the whole day. The next day Y/n would arrive, she would explain the pictures to him, and they would continue in their relationship as if nothing happened.

The following morning Y/n arrived in Calgary, called, and texted Matthew a million times but he wasn’t responding. The plan was to go to his apartment immediately but after she learned about his last night’s affair, she wasn’t sure she wanted to see him. The curiosity however won, and she decided to go to his place and demand a reasonable explanation for his actions. Her whole body hurt, her hands were shaking, and she had a hard time holding the tears back. Y/n was on the plane, on her way to Calgary when she opened Snapchat and saw stories from one of his teammates. At first, she laughed at Matt’s silly dance moves, but the smile quickly disappeared when she saw the video of Matthew and some girl dancing body on body. Y/n was willing to forgive him for the dancing, but it was the heated kiss she couldn’t ignore. The kiss that broke her heart.

“Y/n?” Matthew was surprised when he opened the door and found her standing there. Sad and tired. He himself just woke up, his head hurt badly and the regrets of last night were taking over him slowly but surely. “Oh my - I’m sorry I completely forgot. Come in.”

She didn’t even look at him and with doubts entered his apartment. The welcome was cold. Y/n imagined there would be music playing, a breakfast waiting for her, and most importantly she couldn’t wait to see his open arms and hug him. “Care to explain this?” She said loudly with all seriousness and showed Matthew the video of him and the girl.

Matthew’s face got even paler, he felt sicker than before and he couldn’t believe he did it last night. But then he remembered the reason he did it and decided to fight back because he wasn’t going to let her yell at him when she wasn’t innocent. “I’ll explain it but first you should explain this me this?” He said and reached for his phone and showed her the pictures that haunted him. “Maybe this is the real reason you wanted to keep our relationship a secret?”

“Oh god,” Y/n laughed. “Seriously? And you believe this? We did a movie together for God’s sake! These pictures are from a scene, the last scene we shot. The paparazzi sold them to the media as hot news, as if they caught us in real life which is utter bullshit!”

“Really?” He asked but it was more from the relief that she most likely wasn’t cheating on him.

“Yes, yes really!” She yelled. “I can’t believe you believed it! And that you thought I would do this to you! And you didn’t even have the guts to ask me about it.”

“Y/n, baby I’m sorry alright? I am. I panicked, I was jealous, and I acted like a complete asshole.” He admitted. “I wanted to make you jealous, but I never meant to take it this far I swear. I pulled away from her because I quickly realized it was a mistake and I rushed home.”

She was angry and hurt but too tired and very happy to be finally with him that she couldn’t help but forgave him almost right away. Y/n knew him, she knew he acted foolishly whenever something bothered him, and she could tell he truly regretted it.

“Alright,” she nodded and then rested her head on his chest, wrapped her hands tightly around him, and looked at him with love and no anger. Y/n wasn’t going to lose him, especially not because of some rumors and the press or because of some random girl in a club.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered once again and kissed her forehead. His hand found hers and they intertwined their fingers and squeezed them tightly.

He kissed her once more this time on her lips, just a gentle and loving kiss before he pulled her into his lap so she sat on him and he pressed his head against her shoulder, hiding in the corner of her neck and shoulder and pressing gently kissed on her soft skin. Y/n let out a deep breath and released all emotions at once and she finally relaxed and threw all her problems away. His heart was beating faster, and she felt butterflies in her stomach and they both felt relieved to be finally in each other’s arms. Y/n could never hold a grudge against someone for too long, but she knew Matthew didn’t deserve such quick forgiveness. But what was he supposed to do? She was too happy to be with him and she understood his feelings but he still should’ve asked her instead of chasing girls at a club to make her jealous. Matthew sensed the confusion and he was ready to do whatever it would take to deserve the forgiveness.

“What can I do baby?” He whispered.

Y/n shook her head in response because she didn’t have enough strength to talk. Matthew stroked her hair and held her close to him worried she would leave him.

“I promise I didn’t want to take it this far,” he started explaining. “I wanted to have some fun, but this was not supposed to happen.”

“I know,” she whispered and smiled at him.

“You’re the most precious person I know, and I hate that I did this to you,” he said with a hope she would melt under his words. “And I’ll make it up to you I promise.”

His hand then cupped her face, stroked the soft skin of her cheek making her look him in the eyes so she would know he was being honest and in the next moment he leaned closer and kissed her. Y/n truly melted under his words and mostly under his touch and she decided that all the love she felt for him was stronger than her hurt ego and she could always deal with it later. But that day she allowed herself to be happy and to enjoy being back with her loving boyfriend.

[vnderoos]

oblivious ✷ harry potter

(gif is not mine, credit to the owner) warnings / language word count / 3.2k

masterlist in bio ↴

A SOFT, ORANGE LIGHTING WAS SMOOTHED over Ginny Weasley's face as she and Y/N Y/L/N sat on the leather sofa in front of the fireplace. The Gryffindor common room was mostly quiet, save for the occasional house members passing through, but other than that, they had the whole lounge to themselves. Ginny was tucked into the corner of the sofa, hugging her knees to her chest, and Y/N was sprawled out over the arm, her legs sticking straight out in front of her. It was a surprise that the red-headed girl even fit on there at all, really, with how much space her friend was taking up.

Y/N let out a loud sigh and she threw her head back, her body curving over the armrest and letting her hair dangle down beneath her. "I just don't understand how someone can be so blind. Harry is honestly just the cutest thing, but I swear, this is driving me up a wall," she complained, another whiny groan slipping from her mouth as she ran her hands over her face in frustration. "I mean, I thought I made it quite obvious, but Merlin, Ginny, he is so painfully oblivious. I really don't know how much clearer I could make it." Her voice was muffled as she spoke between her fingers, letting her arms flop over the couch only after she'd finished.

Ginny rolled her eyes at Y/N's distress and she propped one of her elbows up on the armrest on her side of the couch, resting her chin on top of her fist. "You could always tell the man, you know," she suggested matter-of-factly, accompanied by a small shrug of her shoulders, and she tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear with her free hand.

Y/N was quick to sit up from her limp position, properly sitting herself up and crossing her legs on her side of the sofa. She shot Ginny an incredulous look. "Tell him? No way," she scoffed. "What if he hasn't 'picked up' on anything because he doesn't like me like that? I can't imagine he wants me to hurt myself with my pathetic little crush, so maybe he's just thinking of a way to let me down easy or something," she theorized, honestly willing to believe anything if it meant she didn't have to spit out her feelings for what they were. She much preferred the whole 'shamelessly-flirting-until-he-either-rejected-her-or-confessed' ordeal.

Even though it seemed entirely unlikely that Harry was going to do either anytime soon.

Ginny couldn't help but laugh, placing her free hand over half of her face as she did. "You talk a lot about Harry, but you're just as clueless as he is, really," she pointed out and Y/N furrowed her eyebrows. "The two of you are constantly dancing around each other. It's getting sad to watch," she continued, letting her hand fall across her knees as she spoke.

"I am not, Ginny." Y/N clicked her tongue against the back of her teeth. "I think I would've noticed if he was showing interest, too," she defended.

The Weasley girl giggled and she pretended to go along with her words. "If it helps you sleep at night, then sure," she tutted. After that, Ginny straightened her legs out over the side of the couch and she stood up. "But, if we're done with that, do you think the house elves have any leftover pastries from dinner?" she questioned and Y/N shrugged.

She followed Ginny's lead and got to her feet, straightening out her clothes when she was standing straight up. "I could go for a tart or two, so if you wanted to go look, I wouldn't say no to tagging along," she offered.

"We'd better get to the kitchens soon, then."

Then, almost as if she and Ginny had summoned them, a group of Gryffindor boys were making their way into the common room just as the girls were making their way out. Y/N barely had time to put faces or names to any of them before she walked smack-dab into one of their chests. "Oh," she huffed as the slight impact knocked some of the breath from her lungs and the boy's hands wrapped around each of her arms to steady her. She smiled sheepishly, staring down at his shoes and planning to thank him, but when her eyes trailed upwards, the heat that rushed to her cheeks was immediate. Her eyes locked with Harry Potter's, in all of his pale-skinned and messy-haired glory, and it was like her heart skipped a beat. Pull it together, Y/N.

"God, Harry, I'm so sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going—"

"I'm sorry, Y/N, I should've been more careful, but I—"

The two of them started to apologize at the same time, both cutting themselves off when they realized what they were doing, and Y/N swore she turned three shades pinker. Part of her hoped Harry wouldn't say anything, but something told her he didn't even notice at all.

"Oh, it's fine," she hummed, once again, at the same time as Harry, but he'd replaced her 'fine' with an 'alright'. She opened her mouth to say something else, but her mind had suddenly gone blank as she stared up at him. Even dulled by the shine of his glasses, his green eyes were still twinkling as he looked down at her, and her stomach churned. She wanted to say something that wouldn't make her seem like a complete idiot but all she could stutter out was, "You— um, your hands, Harry."

Y/N wanted to smack herself in the head when she saw the surprised look that flickered onto his face. His eyebrows shot upwards as he looked down at his hands, which were still steadily gripping her biceps, and he pulled them back quickly. "Merlin, sorry," he whispered, almost to himself, and he flashed her a nervous smile. It was quite cute, actually, and she returned it with one that was just as awkward.

Somewhere behind them, Ron cleared his throat, obviously trying to get them to speed things up a bit, and Y/N flashed him a half-grin.

"I guess," she paused, pointing at Ginny who was watching the entire scene unfold with a scrunched up nose and curled lip (wondering how bloody unaware two people could possibly be). "I guess I'll be going now," she hummed and Harry nodded his head. She moved to step around him at the same time he went to do the same, but she found herself in the same position when they both stepped in the same direction. "Sorry," she laughed and when she moved again, Harry moved with her.

Y/N couldn't help but chuckle as she got herself into a sort of back-and-forth dance with him, and it wasn't until he placed his hands on her waist and spun the two of them around that they found themselves on the sides that they needed to be on. "Right. You'll be off now, yeah?" he asked, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket, and she nodded her head.

"Yeah, thank you," she hummed, pivoting on her foot. "Bye, Harry."

"Bye, Y/N," Harry stammered out in return, his voice cracking a bit over the first word, but she hardly noticed as she started towards the kitchen with Ginny. As she walked away, leaving the guys behind her, she could hear them laughing amongst themselves. One of them—Seamus, she figured—said something in a high pitched voice and the laughter only intensified. "Oh, bugger off," Harry yelled in return.

Y/N shook her head, letting out a huff of amusement at their boyish behavior, and she looked over at Ginny, who was already looking at her. Ginny's eyebrows were cocked and her arms were crossed over her chest. "Do I have to say 'I told you so' or have you picked up on what just happened back there?" she inquired, waggling a finger back in the direction of Harry and the others.

"What?" Y/N shrilled, peeking over her shoulder. It wasn't like any of them would be behind them, anyways, but her gaze had followed Ginny's finger on instinct. "That was a perfectly normal interaction, Gin. You didn't tell me anything," she argued, whipping her head around to watch where she was going again.

Ginny threw her hands out in frustration. "Why don't you just tell him you like him?" she blurted.

Y/N's jaw dropped and her eyebrows knitted together, because was Ginny daft? "I can't," she refused. "What if he doesn't like me and I just embarrass myself?" she explained.

The redhead didn't seem to be having it and she grabbed Y/N's wrist before she even had a chance to pull it away. "You know what? I'm so tired of watching this," she said as he started back towards the main section of the common room, which they'd just left from.

Y/N flashed her friend another 'what-the-hell' look. "Ginny, what on Earth are you doing?" she yelled—as quietly as she could, which sort of defeated the purpose—as Ginny forcefully dragged her back towards the room. She tried to wipe the look of annoyance off of her face when they reentered the room, where the boys were chuckling over something one of them had said.

"I'm getting this over with once and for all," Ginny said, not even bothering to be discreet as she marched right over to the group with Y/N. Ron and Seamus exchanged confused glances and Harry looked up at Y/N, cutting his laughter short. He nodded at her with a tilt of his head, like a cute, little puppy, and she smiled at him in a silent apology for the events that were about to unfold. "Harry, you like Y/N, don't you?" She knew that Ginny was going to say something stupid the moment they'd turned around, but she didn't expect that.

She watched as Harry's cheeks flushed a bright pink, and instead of hers doing the same, she could feel herself pale, like all of the blood had left her face. She could hear the thudding of her heart in her ears as it suddenly started to pick up the pace. She had no idea what Ginny was thinking and she really wasn't appreciating this. "I mean, yeah, she's great," Harry answered hesitantly, promoting Ginny to look over at the girl beside her. "I'm not sure I understand what's happening," he followed up, pushing his glasses further up on the bridge of his nose.

Ginny tore her eyes away from Y/N. "I know you think she's great, but you like her, don't you?" She continued.

Y/N's eyes blew wide at the question and she gasped, wasting no time in ripping her arm out of Ginny's grasp. With her newly freed hands, she shoved her lightly to the side. "Bloody hell, Ginevra, do you ever shut up?" she all-but-yelled and she watched as Ginny stumbled to the side, laughter bubbling up out of her lips. As Y/N's stomach swirled and her face grew hot, she didn't realize what was so funny about it all.

In fact, she almost felt like she was going to vomit.

Ron, Seamus, and even Dean, had all joined in on the laughter, fueling Y/N's white-hot embarrassment, as she looked at Harry. His eyes were almost as wide as hers and he opened his mouth to say something, to ask another question or even apologize for his friends' behavior, but he couldn't seem to find the words. Y/N on the other hand, felt like the entire room was spinning. All she could think about was her friends laughing and how her secret was out now, and it was all Ginny's fault.

She could feel tears stinging in the spaces behind her eyes and she ran a hand nervously through her hair. Part of her wanted to hex the shit out of Ginny right then and there, but she was more worried about the fact that Harry hadn't said anything. Ron had his hand on Harry's shoulder, steadying himself as he doubled over in laughter, and Harry hadn't said anything.

She couldn't take it anymore.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, with her heart in her throat, and she was running out of the room before she could change her mind.

"Y/N, wait—" Harry called after her, but she ignored him.

She pushed the portrait of the Fat Lady open wide and she climbed through the hole as quick as she could. She ignored the questions from the woman as she pressed the painting closed behind her, and when she stepped out onto the staircases, she was running as far down as she could get. She was almost surprised she hadn't fallen down a whole flight, considering she could barely see through the tears that prickled in her eyes. She couldn't believe that Ginny had put her on the spot like that.

They were supposed to be friends—best friends—and best friends weren't supposed to embarrass each other in front of Harry bloody Potter.

Y/N only stopped running when she reached an empty corridor, at the bottom of one of the staircases she'd ran down. There were no windows there, only open balconies, and the cool breeze that blew through brought the only movement in the entire hall. She sat herself down on the bottom step and buried her face in her hands. She was done crying by then, but she didn't know if she'd ever get over her bout of crippling mortification.

After a few moments of sitting alone, replaying the incident over in her head, she could hear footsteps at the top of the stairs. "Y/N." She heard his voice and her heart nearly stopped in her chest.

She turned around to look at Harry, who was making his way down the staircase. His eyes were warm and sympathetic, and his eyebrows were furrowed gently. "Harry, I'm sorry," she mumbled as he took a seat beside her on the step. "I had no idea she was going to do that, I—"

She started to continue, wanting nothing more than to defend herself and clear the air between them, but he shook his head with a small smile. "It's okay, really," he promised, letting out a soft laugh as he threw his arm over her shoulder and hugged her into his side. He looked down at her for a moment or two before his smile faltered slightly. "Were you crying, Y/N/N?" he questioned and his voice was quiet, like he was afraid he might scare her off.

"No," she denied quickly, but he didn't seem to buy it. "Maybe."

"Why? It wasn't that bad." Harry moved his arm, resting his hand on her knee instead.

Y/N sighed. "Because I'm embarrassed, Harry. Ginny humiliated me in front of everyone, in front of you," she explained and she laid her head on his shoulder, her eyes locking on his hand. "I'm sure you've gathered how I feel about you by now, too, yeah? Thanks to her," she grumbled.

Harry laughed softly and he gave her knee a comforting squeeze. "I mean, I ought to be thanking her. If she hadn't done that, I never would've known how you felt," he admitted.

She sat up in an instant at that, turning to look at him with a dumbfounded look on her face. "Really, Harry? I thought I'd been obvious about it," she told him.

He shrugged his shoulders as a sheepish smile settled onto his face. "I thought you were just being nice because you heard I was the Chosen One, or something," he explained.

"What?" Y/N laughed. "You think I'm that shallow?" she questioned.

Harry was quick to shake his head, holding his free hand out defensively. "No, no. I didn't mean it that way, I just thought it seemed impossible that you'd like me back," he hummed in confession. "It seemed too good to be true, so I just settled for that instead."

"Are you kidding me? You're— wait," she started, but when she registered his words, she cut herself off. Everything seemed to fall silent as her hopeful eyes met his. "Like you back? Does that mean..." she trailed off and Harry nodded once. Her heart was about to beat out of her chest. "Are you serious?" She asked.

"I mean, yeah."

"Ginny didn't put you up to this?"

Harry shook his head softly. "No, it was of my own free will," he promised to her.

Y/N couldn't help the giddy smile that tugged its way onto her face and she looked down shyly, as if to hide it. "Okay," she hummed.

At that, he shot her a scrunched up look. "Okay?" he repeated. "That's it? Just okay?"

"Well, I don't know what else I'm supposed to say," she protested. "You already know I'm mad for you," she told him.

He laughed and offered her a small shrug. "I mean, it doesn't involve much talking, but I might have an idea," he hummed, his eyes flickering to her lips, and he brought his free hand to cup her jawline.

Y/N could feel her face grow warm beneath his touch and she fought a grin. "Oh," she muttered, staring into his eyes for a moment and looking for any sign that this wasn't real, that he didn't want this, but she couldn't find one. "What're you waiting for, Potter? I don't bite," she teased and he sputtered out a small laugh.

Instead of waiting for him to kiss her, she grabbed Harry by his shirt and planted her lips against his. He laughed against her mouth as he kissed her, pulling away so he could kiss her nose, both of her cheeks, and then her mouth once more. All of his kisses felt so sweet, each one instilling a certain warmth in her that made her feel like she was home. Harry's lips were slotted into her own, pressing pecks to her top lip and the corners of her mouth, and when he pulled away from her, she couldn't remember another time where she'd seen him smile so big.

"As fun as this is, I think should get back now. It's almost curfew," he pointed out and swiped his thumb over her bottom lip.

Y/N pressed a kiss to his finger and she nodded. "Yeah, you're right." Harry pulled his hands off of her lightly and stood up, offering one of his hands down to her and she took it with a grateful smile.

He pulled her to her feet and they made their way back to the common room, hand-in-hand.

Ginny and the boys were sprawled over the sofa and various other chairs, and they all looked up when the two entered the room. A cheeky smile crossed onto her lips and she winked at them. "Well, it's about bloody time," Ron stayed, gesturing to their intertwined fingers, and Y/N looked at Harry with a smile. He placed a kiss against her temple.

"You're welcome," Ginny piped up.

Y/N simply hit her a clean middle finger.

↴

taglist / @umpoedameron​ @pvintbreak​

[delos-mio]

Out of the Woods - College!AU - PART 1

A/N: Welp, here it is! Part 1 of my silly little AU for my favorite silly little king. I really hope I can do him justice and I greatly appreciate any comments and questions you may have! No major triggers- only implied drug use, drinking, allusion to sexy stuff. So, without further ado..

If you had to gaze into a crystal ball at the beginning of the year, this would not have been the future you expected to see. You didn’t plan on being unhoused, stuck in an idle relationship, and debating dropping out of school all together. But here you were, trying your very best to pick up the pieces, salvage what little motivation to carry on that you had left. It could have been worse. It could have been much worse, at least that’s what you kept telling yourself to keep from crumbling entirely. You were never one to back down though, and these few hurdles sure as hell weren’t going to be the thing to break you. At least one of your problems was solved.

You had just emptied the last of the boxes left from moving and were hanging up the rest of your clothes when there was a soft knock on your door. Genya popped her head in, smiling brightly.

“Hey. I was just making sure you were getting settled ok,” she said.

“Yeah, I’m just about done unpacking I think.” You sat down next to her on the edge of your bed. “Thanks again for letting me live here. You have no idea how much you saved his ass,” you laughed.

“Don’t mention it! I’m happy to have someone else here, honestly.” She seemed to mean it, so you decided not to keep groveling. “Anyways, I just had a friend text me about a party tonight if you wanted to go?”

Your party days were almost entirely behind you. Freshman and Sophomore year were a haze of booze and recreational drugs, leading to you almost flunking out of school on more than one occasion. You’d since cleaned up your act, for the most part, and found you way back on the Dean’s list. But...it was a Friday afterall. And you’d just spent all day moving and contemplating your entire life- did that not earn a beer or two?

“Yeah, ok. Ok. That sounds good,” you said with a nod.

“Awesome! I think we’re meeting there around 10ish, so I’ll come grab you to get ready in a little bit.”

“Get ready? Are we 18 and going to our first frat party?” you joked, making Genya laugh.

“I was thinking about it more so as a roomie bonding activity, but if you wanna be a brat…” she drawled, trying to keep the smile off her face.

“Come back in an hour,” you finally sighed. Genya looked simply delighted as she exited, very clearly planning out looks for you both in her head.

As you went to finish up organizing your closet, you felt the familiar buzz of your phone in your pocket.

Matt: u coming over tonight?

You couldn’t stop your eyes from rolling back in your skull. That probably shouldn’t happen when you get a text from your boyfriend.

Y: can’t, sorry. Going out with Genya M: ok- have fun. Make good choices. Y: wtf does that mean M: just to make good choices? Jesus does everything have to be a fight? Y: i’m not trying to fight omg Y: i’ll just talk to you later M: k

K. He had some fucking nerve.

---

Across campus, Nikolai wasn’t having much better of an evening.

"Do I have to?"

"Yes." Aleks's tone was final; Nikolai knew there was no point in trying to bargain with him at this point.

"Jesus, fine." Nikolai’s fate had been decided and it was now mandatory that he go to the Delta Chi party that night. And here he had been looking forward to a quiet evening alone with his guitar and journal...

"It'll be fun, you sad sack. And I really want you to meet Alina," Aleks chastised.

"I didn’t know you missed my irreplaceable company quite this much."

Aleks gently threw a pencil across the table at his head. "Maybe you'll even catch a new fish of your own, huh?" he said with an obnoxious smirk. Nikolai just chuckled, nodding noncommittally before heading off to his bedroom.

It's not that he didn’t want to go. Well, he didn’t, really. But normally, he would. It’d been about a month since he called it off with the girl he met in Statistics. And it's not like he even missed her all that much- he knew she wouldn’t be around long from the start. But he was still stuck in the “mope in his room, write songs about heartbreak” phase of his healing. Because of such, he hadn't felt like partying much lately, but he’d blown off Aleks the last 3 weekends...he wasn't going to let Nikolai say no again.

Nikolai figured the least he could do is try and look presentable. It was unlike him to spend as much time in sweats as he had; his sense of style had always been impeccable. He was a man who knew he was handsome and knew the best way to broadcast just that. He pulled out tight black jeans and paired them with a powder blue button down with the sleeves rolled up, maybe a couple of the top buttons left undone. He pushed his golden hair back out of his hazel eyes and scrutinized himself in the mirror. To his horror, he looked like he hadn't had a good night of sleep in a week, which was true. Overall, it could have been better, but it could be worse. With a sigh, he grabbed his phone and keys before going out to find Aleks.

They got to the Delta Chi house, and there were already a few guys passed out on the lawn. Nikolai wasn’t surprised, but it was only 10:30. They must have been freshmen. Aleks lead the way to the porch where a petite dark haired girl turned around and beamed at them.

"You're late!" she says with a clearly fake pout. Aleks leaned in to kiss it away and Nikolai looked everywhere but at them.

"Sorry, sorry, I know. Miss Princess here had to be dragged out of his cave," he laughed at his expense. "Alina, this is Nikolai. Nikolai, Alina."

"Nice to finally meet you," Alina smiled. She's cute, he can give Aleks that.

"I’ll have you know I was not in a cave. I was waxing poetic about love lost, heartbreak and what have you,” Nikolai smirked as Alina laughed.

"Genya and her new roommate are already inside," Alina said, grabbing Aleks's hand.

Thank god. Not that he didn't want to spend time with them or get to know Alina, but he didn't really want to watch them suck face and play third wheel all night. Genya had been a friend of theirs since Freshman year- she smoked them down at a random dorm party and she'd been part of the gang ever since. Nikolai pushed through the crowd and made it along with Aleks and Alina to the kitchen. There were fewer people back here and Nikolai felt like he could breathe again.

"Nik," Genya chirped and threw her hands up excitement. "He lives!"

"You saw me Wednesday," Nikolai laughed. “But, I understand. Aleks was desperate for his company too. It must have been unbearable without me.”

"I really didn't think Aleks would get you to come," she said with an easy grin. Genya handed him a cup of what he assumed was beer. "Doesn't matter. You're here now."

They all circled up and chatted for a minute. For once in his life, Nikolai felt like he was noticeably quiet, but he found he didn’t have much to add. They didn’t want to hear about how he managed to cook a meal TWICE last week. Or how he’d written probably a dozen songs, all of them dogshit. Genya was grinning at a story their friend William was telling when she looked over his shoulder and motioned for someone to join them.

"Guys! Guys! This is my new roommate," Genya said. Ah yes, the new roommate. How could Nikolai forget?

New Roommate had wedged themselves into the circle two people away from Nikolai. He looked up from his cup and immediately locked eyes with you. Honestly, the name should have tipped him off. He never, ever thought he’d see you again. There's no way you possibly remember him, right? God, you were still so beautiful.

"Nikolai?" you asked with a tight voice, eyes jumping all around his face. And it's right about then that Nikolai wished he got a little more beauty sleep. Here you were, practically glowing, while he looked like the walking dead.

"Hey," he breathed out. It sounded a lot more desperate than he meant it to, but you always have had that effect on him.

"You guys know each other?" Aleks interjected.

"It's uh, it's been a few years, but yeah," you said with a blush, looking down into your cup. Aleks and Genya both looked at Nikolai with a raised eyebrow. He could feel the sweat pricking along his brow. Fuck, now all eyes were on him...

"Maybe there's a spot open for beer pong. Let's go check it out." Thank you. Subtle, Genya. "You guys can catch up," Genya said walking past you and patting Nikolai on the shoulder. The rest of his friends followed suit and Nikolai was left alone with you, staring not so subtly.

You hadn’t grown an inch. You’d lost the bright red glasses too. But, god, you were still the most gorgeous creature Nikolai had ever laid his eyes on. Really, he couldn't have lost his virginity to a hotter person.

It's your typical boy-meets-girl story. Nikolai first saw you at the rink where he played hockey in high school. Your parents owned the building and seeing as such, you were employed as the kid behind the concession stand. Nikolai remembered the first time he saw you, he thought you looked like a dork. A very hot dork, but a dork all the same. Nikolai began to notice you watching him in particular during practice, which just further flustered his raging teen hormones.

One night, after everyone else had left practice, Nikolai stayed behind and introduced himself to you. He’d never seen such a beautiful mouth and he had to resist the urge to kiss you right then and there. It became habit that he stay after practice and lean against the counter to shamelessly flirt with you. You often had the rink to yourselves by that time, so Nikolai felt like he could really be himself during those hours. He was still figuring out his place in the world and had stuck-up parents who would never approve of him taking you home. But in the lowlights of the concourse, he was allowed to have a crush on you.

Flirting led to making out behind the counter. Making out behind the counter led to hand stuff in your beat up purple van once you locked up for the night. Hand stuff led to him fucking you in the locker room shower. It was both of your first time and it could have been much less hurried. But you were young and inexperienced and horny as fuck and still exploring sexuality. You kept that arrangement up for the next few months until the season ended and Nikolai left that fall for school. He felt like a dick for not saying goodbye to you. It's not in his nature to ghost. It just isn't. He thinks maybe he was still scared of what it all "meant" and how much he really liked you. Maybe this was the universe telling him to make things right with you and make things right for himself.

"Hey, stranger," you said with a lopsided grin. Fuck. Nikolai was so done for if you kept looking at him like that.

"Hey yourself." And Nikolai couldn't help himself when he reached out to you to pull you in a tight embrace. Lucky him, you didn’t push him away and call him a fucking asshole; he thought he would have deserved that. You buried your face into his neck and the hot little puffs of air were doing way more to him than they should. You parted just enough to get a good look at each other.

"You look good," you said with a dark edge to your voice, bottom lip trapped between your teeth. He knew very well what he looked like that night, but you seemed to mean the compliment.

"You look better," he replied earnestly, because it was true. It shouldn't have been this easy to fall right back into things. But it was always different with you. Sometimes, he still thought you were the only one that really understood him without him having to say a word.

"Nikolai Lantsov, you always were a little flirt," you laughed. Your eyes crinkled at the corner and Nikolai thought to himself how beautiful you are when you’re playful. You’re always beautiful. He wanted nothing more than to whisk you away and have you alone. This time, he wouldn’t fuck it up. He wouldn’t let you go. You must have noticed his brain going into overdrive because you say "What's going on up there? What ya thinking?" You pushed a rogue lock of golden hair away from his face.

"Honestly?"

"Honestly."

"I'm thinking about how much I wish we weren't at a frat party right now. I'm thinking about how I want to be selfish and have you all to myself," Nikolai said low so only you could hear. You laughed a little to yourself and looked at him with sparkling eyes.

"I'm not stopping you," you drawled. Fuck. Fuck, ok. This was really happening.

"Let me tell the guys we're leaving and then do you maybe want to get some food?" Nikolai asked hopefully. You just nodded coyly with a small smirk.

"I'll meet you out front." You squeezed his hand once and started pushing your way through the sea of bodies.

Nikolai ran his hands through his hair and took a deep breath before nearly running down to the basement, eager to say goodbye and make his way back to you. Genya, Aleks, Alina, and William were playing each other, a beer pong table stretching between their pairs.

"Where's your old friend?" Genya asked with a shit eating grin.

"We're um. We're actually gonna head out. So, I guess I'll—" but he was immediately cut off by Aleks.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Nik, are you leaving with a girl?" he teased.

"Yes. I am." Nikolai looked at him defiantly.

"How do you guys know each other anyways?" Bill asked before launching a shot.

"Just from growing up. High school or whatever," Nikolai mumbled.

"Cmon..." Genya begged.

"Wouldn’t you love to know," he said, voice laced with snark. "I just came down here to say we're fucking leaving!"

"Well then you better not keep your girl waiting," Genya said with a silent kiss in his direction. Nikolai just flipped her off and took his leave.

When he got outside, you were waiting with your hands in your pockets at the bottom of the porch steps. He smiled wide at you and offered a hand, which you seemed happy to take.

"So, are they gonna give me a bunch of shit next time I see them?" you asked as you walked hand in hand to the little strip of 24 hour restaurants on the outskirts of campus.

"Probably. Nothing you can't handle," Nikolai winked. You laughed then a little giggle. It's such a familiar sound and just like that, Nikolai was transported back to the ice rink and you giggling between kisses behind the snack bar.

You made it to one of his favorite delis in town and he offers to buy you a sandwich, which of course you tried to refuse his offer. Nikolai simply won't hear it. He had 5 years of douche baggery to make up for and insisted. You finally conceded and thanked him with the sweetest smile Nikolai had ever seen. You found a table in the corner, away from the door and prying eyes.

"So, how'd you meet Genya?" Nikolai asked.

"We have a writing class together. And we got to talking and became friends. I needed to find a new place cause my old roommate had to drop out and move home. I couldn't afford the place on my own. And I mean, you know how Genya is," you laughed, "I told her all about it one day in class and she offered me a room at her place without batting an eye."

"That does sound like Genya," Nikolai nodded.

"I've only been there like, two hours. But it's been good so far. Genya's been super cool," you said with a smile.

"I can't believe that we've been at the same school this whole time and it's taken this long to find each other," Nikolai said, mostly to himself, but you heard him and reached across the table to grab one of his hands.

"But we did find each other eventually, yeah?" You ran your thumb over his knuckle.

"Yeah," he said, suddenly bashful. Nikolai was seldom flustered. He had nerves of steel and had confidence to spare on his worst days. But you. You cut through him, all the way down to the core, and that made him nervous.

"So," you started, "Tell me about everything Nikolai Lantsov. Surely you've been up to something the last few years."

"Not much interesting to tell," he shrugged. "Been studying history. Writing music here and there to keep myself occupied."

"Girlfriend?"

"Who wants to know?" he asked with an arched eyebrow.

"Shut up," you mumbled into your soda. He doesn't miss the blush that's spreading over your cheeks.

"No. No girlfriend." he paused, considering how honest to be. But fuck it, he owed you candor. "I actually broke up with a girl a little over a month ago." You looked back up at him then, your eyes searching presumably for whether or not Nikolai was still torn up about it. "She wasn’t...she wasn’t right for mw and I guess I was just done. I feel like I should still be sad about it or whatever, but I'm not. I don't miss her. The wallowing and self reflection has been great writing fodder though," he said with a laugh.

"I'm sorry, Nik. You don't deserve that."

"Don't I?" Nikolai looked at you and suddenly felt torn open. "I...I'll never forgive myself for what I did to you." You bit down on your lip and looked out the window. "I regretted leaving you, god, and like a fucking asshole. I regretted leaving you so much. I know saying I'm sorry isn't even close to enough. But god, I'm so fucking sorry." He knew there were tears threatening to fall from his eyes, but he swallowed them down best he could.

"I'm not going to act like it didn't hurt me. Because it really, really did. But I accept your apology, Nik. You know I could never stay mad at you." You paused for a minute before looking at Nikolai with a tiny fire in your eyes. "You know, I'm pretty sure I was in love with you back then."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I don’t think I ever stopped loving you," He said confidently. Your jaw dropped just for a moment before you're giving him that sexy grin that apparently still drives him absolutely crazy.

"Still?” Nikolai just smirked. "What if you don't know me anymore?" you asked and sucked at the straw in your soda.

"I'd like to." There's a shift in the air between you. Nikolai was sure you could both feel it. It was suddenly too warm in the restaurant and there's too much table separating you. He decided to take his chance. “How do you feel about going back to my place?”

You suddenly seemed very interested in your nail beds, picking anxiously at the skin. “You didn’t ask me if I was seeing anyone.”

Nikolai stalled. He didn’t. You asked about his relationship status and he was so absorbed with letting you know that he was, in fact, single, that he didn’t bother to ask if you were even available. Hadn't you been flirting all night? He'd certainly been flirting. But like you said, maybe he didn't know you anymore. Maybe this was just how you were these days. “Are you...are you seeing someone?”

“Yeah,” you sighed. Maybe it was his own wishful thinking, him hearing the resignation in your voice. Not that he wanted you to be unhappy. No, you deserved the world and he wanted nothing more than for you to have the sun and the moon and the stars. But, maybe there was still a chance for him yet. “His name is Matt. We’ve been together for like, a year or so.”

“Matt.” He let the name burn his tongue. “You love him?”

“Nik…” you warned.

“Just a question.”

“It’s more complicated than that.”

“Just my two cents here,” Nikolai started, leaning back into the booth, “But you deserve to be with someone you can gush about. Someone who when you get asked if you love them, you don’t think twice and say ‘they’re the love of my life!’”

“And you don’t think that’s him?” you said, huffing. “You think that’s you?”

“There’s a chance,” he smirked. “All that aside, I’m very glad fate has brought us together again.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you laughed. “I missed you too.” You looked at your phone quickly. “Shit, I should get going. I have a shift at 9 tomorrow.”

“Let me walk you home,” Nikolai insisted, standing from the booth and helping you into your jacket.

“Always such a gentleman,” you smiled, tapping him gently on the nose before walking ahead of him.

The walk to your and Genya’s place felt too short. Nikolai had made this trek, both intoxicated and sober, and it always seemed much longer. But now he was at your front door, hands shoved in his pockets as he shifted his weight from foot to foot. “If you don’t want to hang out again, I understand, but I need you to tell me now if you think it’s a bad idea,” he rushed out.

“Of course I want to see you again,” you said, rolling your eyes. “So dramatic. We can still be friends, right?”

“We can be best friends,” he smiled.

“I’m glad I ran into you tonight.”

“Likewise.”

You were both clearly just trying to prolong the evening at this point. Nikolai took it upon himself to put you both out of your misery and pulled you into his arms again. You gripped his torso tightly, melting your body against his. He held you close, both strong arms wrapped around your shoulder while he tucked your head under his chin. After a moment, he pulled back enough to leave a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“Get some sleep,” he whispered, his breathing a little hard.

“Ok,” you croaked, nodding. Nikolai stepped out of your space then, squeezing your hand one last time before walking back out to the sidewalk, waiting and watching to make sure you got inside safely.

[ladykissingfish]

Dining Out with the Akatsuki

Pein

The Pein-body doesn’t need food to sustain itself, but Nagato has made it so that he can taste and experience eating through the body. Surprisingly his favorite dish is a simple fish stew, which he enjoys several bowls full of, paired with a beer or two and a few pieces of delightfully crusty bread. But more so than the food, Nagato enjoys “being” with the others, especially Konan. When they were younger he and the blue haired beauty were often on the brink of total starvation, so to be able to afford the luxury of eating prepared foods in a nice establishment, and to do so with FRIENDS, is a dream that he’d never have dared to dream. Is a very tidy eater, and constantly makes sure the others are keeping their areas clean, so as not to make too much work for their waiter/waitress. The type to, if he thinks the server has too many empty plates and glasses to take back, will get to and help that person carry the empties back to the kitchen. Also makes sure everyone tips, even Kakuzu.

Konan

When going out to eat, Konan will always order a salad. That’s it. And it’s not because she’s a dainty eater; it’s because she knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that every other member of the Akatsuki will be sharing large portions of THEIR food with her. Even Kakuzu will push whatever cheap dinner he’s bought across the table to her and gruffly tell her to take some of whatever’s there. The waiter or waitress will come back to the table to refill drinks and be confused that the delicate-looking salad girl is elbows deep in fries, ribs, steak, and anything else the group has pressed on her. And dessert is another matter entirely. ALL of them (with the exception of Kakuzu because he feels sharing his dinner was more than enough) will fight over who gets to buy Konan dessert. Usually settled with spirited games of rock-paper-scissors, and the winner gets to pick (and buy, of course) what sweet treat Konan gets. Also she never ends up paying for the salad she initially ordered, either, as the one buying her dessert will usually go ahead and spring for that, as well.

Hidan

Hidan is a big meat-eater, so when they go out to eat will typically order several pork, chicken, or beef-based dishes. His favorite is spare ribs, and he’s such an aggressive eater that the sauce will ruin whatever shirt he’s been made to wear for the evening. Watching him eat things like steak is always a bit gross, as he orders it cooked as rare as possible and always makes a big production out of licking the excess blood from his arms/the plate. He isn’t really a fan of sides, though, in particular vegetables; and will always push off the undesirables on his plate to whoever’s sitting closest to him (most often Kakuzu who will take whatever’s offered because hey, free food). He’s also one of the few who won’t order any sort of alcoholic drink with his meal, as he claims Jashinism prohibits the consumption of such things. Sodas or sweet fruit punches are his thing, and he drinks so much of this that he’ll end up rushing to the bathroom to pee a bunch before the meal is over. Is the fastest eater in the bunch so will try and start arguments or have arm wrestling contests with the others to pass the time along. If the waitress is pretty, he’ll flirt shamelessly and leave a big enough tip to make Kakuzu faint.

Kakuzu

It takes a LOT to get Kakuzu to go out and eat with everyone; he’s the epitome of the “we have food at home” mantra. When he does, he’ll always go for the absolute cheapest meal on the menu, even if the dish isn’t something he particularly likes. Also isn’t shy about using his advanced age to his advantage, to make use of senior specials and coupons. Always requests for there to be no salt in his meal because “too much sodium raises blood pressure which is bad for the heart”, and after all he’s got several hearts to take care of. Doesn’t really partake in the conversations at the table except to occasionally comment to the others about food being left on their plates; yes, even with the others paying for their own meals, he’s still hyper concerned about wasting money. The only time he likes going out to eat is his birthday, when everyone else will chip in to buy his meal for him. A big Sake drinker and will have almost an entire bottle ((of the cheapest kind)) with his meal, but he holds his liquor so well that he never seems drunk.

Sasori

Doesn’t eat but going out with the others is one of the few things he enjoys. He is someone who prefers elegant, quiet atmospheres, therefore favors going to smaller, somewhat exclusive restaurants. Since his attention isn’t focused on food, he’ll get up and wander from the table a lot, taking in the artwork (if any) on the walls. Has a special (and unexpected) talent, in calming down the fussy children of other diners. Because he’s curious about everything, he’ll ask Deidara or Itachi to describe their meals to him in heavy detail.

Deidara

This guy can eat. He, Hidan and Tobi are the biggest eaters in the company, so when everyone goes to a restaurant or cafe together, separate checks are a necessity ((Kakuzu: All I had was tea! Why should we split the bill when those fucks had 12 plates each?!)) Shares a slight commonality with Kakuzu in that his favorite meal is fish-based, and Kisame has taught him well in regards to knowing whether a fish is fresh or not. He isn’t the neatest diner, and will constantly be reminded by Pein or Konan to tidy up his area before the waiter/waitress comes back to the table. Will ALWAYS ask the server about the specials of the day, even though 9 times out of 10 he already knows what he’s going to order. Deidara has the ability to taste food through his hands, and will sometimes make a show of eating with all three mouths at once (which fascinates the other diners but leaves his own team disenchanted, to say the least). Can easily be goaded into eating “competitions” with Hidan, which almost always results in severe stomachaches and a need to be carried back to the hideout by their respective partners.

Tobi

What’s an entree? This guy will always go straight for the dessert menu. At first Pein and the others tried to stop him, telling him dessert was only to be had after a balanced meal; but Tobi’s tendency to eat a single bite of an expensively-priced steak quickly convinced the others to mind their own business. Whether at home or out to dinner, meal times are the only times he removes his mask; he still wears a rough black cloth over his eyes but without the mask everyone can see the (slightly scarred) bottom half of his face — and his smile. Which he does a lot; it’s obvious that spending time with the others means a great deal to him. His voice changes just slightly too — he still says the most out of place, goofy things, only in a much deeper tone of voice. Deidara especially is completely thunderstruck by how calm and quiet and NORMAL Tobi seems without the mask, and comes up with the (correct) theory that Tobi literally becomes a different person with that orange monstrosity on. Can be goaded into eating contests with Deidara and Hidan, although his food tolerance isn’t as high as these two and will more than likely spend all night in the bathroom.

Zetsu

Never ever joins the others when they dine out. Like never. Will occasionally use his exceptional scouting skills to scope out new venues for the group, but that’s as far as it goes.

Kisame

Restaurants aren’t really his thing, so (as in many other circumstances) will only accompany the others if Itachi goes as well. Like Pein and Deidara, goes mostly for fish-based meals, although he does enjoy an extra rare steak on occasion. Doesn’t drink alcohol but will order many cups of tea or, in the winter, cocoa. Is one of the few in the group who knows just how bad Itachi’s eyesight has gotten, so will always lean close and quietly whisper to him things on the menu that he thinks he’d like to eat. Enjoys eating establishments where they play soft music; it always puts him in a relaxed state of mind. Kisame is like Pein in that he abhors rudeness towards servers and restaurant staff, and will jump in quickly (and often very harshly) to “reprimand” anyone he feels is being an ass, whether it be another customer or his own team mates. Has gotten into a fistfight with Hidan twice over some of the more lewd things he’s said to waitresses, one of which got the whole group banned from that particular place. Doesn’t like desserts but will ask both Itachi and Konan what THEY would get for dessert, orders both things, and gives it to them.

Itachi

Like Kisame, dining out isn’t really his deal, but will go every now and then when the “persuasion” of the others wears him down (Deidara: You antisocial asshole; are you too good to spend time with us or what, hm?!). Prefers places that are small and dimly lit; bright lights hurts his eyes immensely and he’s never been comfortable in large crowds of people. A trick his father taught him when he was younger was that, when eating in a public place, always go with somebody you can trust to keep an eye on the entrance for possible enemies; so Itachi will always sit in a spot where he’s facing the door, to protect the rest of the group. Eats his food slower than the others (everyone thinks it’s because he savors his meal but really it’s because he has trouble seeing it), and, like Tobi, is a bigger fan of desserts than the entree. Also has a thing with napkins; will sit and tear one napkin up into dozens of tiny strips while the others talk to each other, or sometimes shows off Konan’s origami lessons by turning them into little flowers or birds. Hidan gets easily annoyed by him because Hidan flirts mercilessly with every female in sight — but Itachi simply sits there quietly and has every female in the restaurant staring at him with wide eyes and lovesick faces. Hasn’t once left a restaurant without being asked out by at least 3 women (all of whom be very politely turns down, but still).

[hinatas-sunshine]

“Flower Shop”

Oikawa, Kuroo, Akaashi

Synopsis: Pretty Boy meets flower shop girl.

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: none

Requests: Open

Oikawa:

• As usual, the sun hit the flowers just right. The bright colors of green and splashes of red, white, pink, purple, etc..

• You slightly mumbled a curse, a little angry at your mom for making you work at this time

• Everyday, at this specific time, a bunch of girls would come in an buy flowers, shoving and attacking each other talking about a certain boy

“Move! He likes these! He told me so!”

“Like THE tooru oikawa would even talk to you!”

• You sighed and slammed your head on the counter - please please please give me a concussion so I don’t have to deal with these girls

• As you rang up all the flowers and made bouquets as quickly as possible you sighed in relief to see they were all gone

• Unbeknownst to you a tall figure walked into the store, dark hood, hat and sunglasses

• Yoh continued to clean the store from all the messy girls ruining it due to their flower picking

“Did those girls do this?”

• You jumped, elbowing the person in the chest causing them to fly back

• Looking down you see a boy, light brown hair and brown eyes to match, groaning on the floor

“What are you? Some strong monster!?”

“What are you? A perv!?”

• He chuckled as you helped him up, taking note of how soft your hands were under his rough ones

“You never answered my question.”

“Yes, they come in all the time talking about this Oikawa boy, ruining the store and then leaving. Give me a break! He can’t be that special.”

• As you threw your arms around dramatically he watched amused

“And here I thought I was special.”

• You eyes widened in shock looking sheepishly at, who you concluded, IS Oikawa.

“Oh...I’m sorry...”

• He shook his head laughing

“Don’t worry about it, I’m here to pick up flowers for my mom anyways.”

• You nodded, still feeling bad about ranting

“You can make anything you’d like. I don’t know anything about how to make this look good.”

• As you wrapped up some flowers, ribbon and everything you held it up for him to see.

“Beautiful.”

• Though as he said so, his eyes never left yours. Your soft features making him feel safe, him laughing lightly as you scrunched your nose at the baby’s-breath flower tickled it.

• You took his money, handing him the change to which he dumped some and extra in the jar

• You thanked him and went to clean up the mess from flower organization you had just done

“So what do you do with the flowers those girls give you everyday?”

“Well...”

• He squints to look at your name tag

“Y/n, cute name, my mom just places them around the house. Today is her birthday though, thought I’d bring her something bigger.”

• You smiled at him, and if he could’ve, he would’ve melted at the sight. Everything about you had made him weak to the knees.

• But that moment was over, and he wouldn’t see you again as he walked out of the shop.

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

• You would never spend your off day at a volleyball game

• Your best friend though, complained how it was important

“Please y/n!”

“I’d rather not.”

“I’ll tell the whole school how you binge read killing-stalking because of sangwoo.”

• Now here you were sitting in the stands while you best friend shamelessly flirted with the guy next to her.

• She wanted your to third wheel Huh?

• You got up to go to the bathroom because you’d rather be there than around a flirting couple

• As you noticed a group of girls surrounded around someone you pushed through to continue your walk

“Excuse me! I gotta go this way!”

• You heard feet approaching, making you stop and turn around

• Automatically you noticed the brown hair and matching brown eyes making you smile

“We meet again.”

“I guess we do...”

• You noticed his uniform, to which you plucked a piece of lint off of, smiling at him

“Good Luck, Captain.”

• For once, Oikawa’s cocky nature wasn’t keeping up with him and he felt a blush creep up on his face

“Thank you.”

“Oi! Shittykawa! Let’s go and stop flirting!”

• Oikawa, startled and embarrassed laughed before waving at you and running off, you waving back and laughing softly

“Did you really have to do that in front of her?!”

“Not if you’d hurry your ass up.”

“Iwa-Chan that’s mean.”

“Didn’t ask.”

• As you sat down again next to your friend smiling down at your lap, she smirked

“What?”

“Don’t ‘what’ me. You flirt. My baby is growing up. I’m so proud I could cry and this whole time I though you were an antisocial little rat.”

• You glared at her while she patted your head, the game beginning

• Watching intensely, you cheered for Aoba Johsai, and it didn’t go unnoticed by the setter

• Finally bold enough, after scoring a point Oikawa pointed at you smiling

• As your friend screamed excitedly definitely about the scored point not about oikawa thats crazy she shook you like a madwoman

“He just pointed at you!”

“Stop glaring at my friend I’ll throat punch you guys!”

“Point at her again! You won’t!”

• Needless to say, he asked you out on a date after he won the match

Kuroo:

• Nothing about today was abnormal, you watered your moms plants and set out more flowers

• You placed some flowers on display and set at the cash register working on your homework for this week

• Ignoring the dinging bell, you still spoke up

“Welcome!”

• Flipping the page to your textbook you placed a floral bookmark in and closed it looking up to see a black haired boy standing there

“O-oh! Kuroo!”

“Y/n, hey. You told me to meet you here?”

• A blush crept onto your face just as slowly as the butterflies, it’s silly to even have a crush on Kuroo, he was the schools heartthrob.

• Ignoring the blush on your cheeks you nodded standing up and making your way over to the back

“I’m going on break, I have to study.”

“Oh I saw... study huh? I’m too young to have grandkids!”

• You yelped and your eyes grew wide

“No! No it’s not like that!”

• Your mom smiles shooing you out, while you tried to control your nerves at her words

• You noticed Kuroo’s own pink cheeks as you came back, oh god he heard her

“We can go to the outside area, I’ll fix us something to drink.”

• He nodded heading outside to the flower garden area with tables

• You walked back into where your mom was and screamed before shutting the door and taking your stuff and some drinks outside

“Thank you.”

• You nodded and looked at your textbook, great your teacher first pairs you up with your crush, then your mom tells you not to have grandkids with him, to top it all off he hear her

• After you two had worked on the details and found information for your project you began stretching

“We should take a break.”

• You nodded and stood up tucking hair behind your ear, he followed your actions and for the first time today Kuroo noticed how undeniably pretty you looked.

• The flowers surrounding you only made it so much harder on him, you dressed in all pastel. You looked like a goddess to him.

“Kuroo? You okay?”

• He looked to the side, your face dangerously close to his.

“U-uhm.”

• Neither of you moved a muscle, for the first time again Kuroo could see your eyes and the deep patterns that ran in them.

• And you, you could see everything in his eyes. Your heartbeat could be heard in your ears, he could probably hear it too.

• You both weren’t sure if it was your heartbeat or the others beating so loudly, but everything seemed still

• Like the flowers stopped moving in the wind, and your pages to your books stopped fluttering, the only thing on Kuroos mind was how beautiful you looked, looking up at him through your long lashes

• And the only thing on yours were how his eyes focused so intensely on yours, like he could read how you felt about him so easily

• If you hadn’t known any better, your faces inched closer, it felt like it wasn’t 2 minutes but 2 hours spent looking at each other

• As Kuroo’s phone went off signaling a call, he smiled at you breaking eye contact and apologizing

• After hanging up he packed his things, and swung his bag over his shoulder

“I gotta go, but we can continue our project later this week.”

“Of course.”

“Oh! Y/n?”

“Yes?”

“I’ll see you at my game tomorrow?”

• You fiddled with your hands, and nodded to which he smiled and walked out waving bye

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

“You’re going, but if you don’t come back with a man on your arm you aren’t coming home until you have one.”

• You slightly winced at your moms joke, what a crazy woman. You never knew who the teenager was between you two.

• You sat at the back of the bleachers, hoping you went by unnoticed by everyone

“Maybe he didn’t want me to come... he could have invited other girls here... oh gosh.”

• Your mind made up every excuse in the book, you stood up and began walking towards the exit

“Leaving already? I couldn’t find you.”

• You froze looking back at Kuroo, who smiled at you as he approached

“I was just-“

“Overthinking? I noticed. You made that same face yesterday when you over thought the conclusion question.”

• You blushed and looked away making him laugh, gosh why was his laugh even so perfect

• Kuroo placed an arm around you, leading you back to the bleachers. You were about to speak when he was yanked away

“Gosh Kuroo, you’re finally all lovesick and it makes you forget the game is about to start?”

• Lovesick? You watched Yaku pull him away and apologize to which you signaled to him it was alright

• You sat back in the bleachers, this time more in the front and enjoyed the game

• As it ended and you waited for Kuroo, you fiddled with your fingers.

• Happily, Kuroo walked over to you and stopped, wether it be the happiness of winning the game or just some adrenaline he spoke:

“I really have the urge to kiss you right now. I have since yesterday.”

• Without another word you stood on your tippy toes and placed a soft kiss on his lips, he couldn’t help but wrap his arms around your waist pulling you closer

“I knew it! Yamamoto you owe me 20 bucks.”

“Gosh dang it Kuroo! Can’t you keep it in your pants like usual!”

• You both laughed and pulled away looking at the team while Yamamoto and Yaku argued, and Lev and Inuoka’s eyes were being covered, Kenma simply staring at his game

“Bye the way Kuroo, my mom wont let me come home unless you come with me.”

“Huh?”

“She said if I don’t come back with a man on my arm, I can’t come home.”

“That’s bold coming from someone who said no grandkids.”

• Your face burned with Embarrassment as he laughed even louder

“Too bad y/n, Kuroo’s not a man. Looks like you can’t go home.”

“Shut up Kenma.”

Akaashi:

• It was a usual Sunday morning, you moved silently through the floral café. The bright sun shone through and illuminated the whole store.

• You made the usual coffee, and heard the door ding right when you finished

• You placed the coffee on the counter, and cash made its way to replace the counter, and a tip going in the jar

• And that’s your Sunday morning regular, you stay at the stool and prepared your own coffee.

•Sunday mornings were usually slow, everyone sleeping in on their day off.

• As you drank your own coffee, you read the book in your hand, sitting at the usual stool behind the counter

• You heard nervous tapping, as you looked up your noticed the black haired boy look away and his foot tapping on the floor immediately stop.

• You picked up your things and walked over to his booth, sitting with him

“Do you mind some company?”

“No, not at all.”

• You nodded and opened your book back up to pick up where you left off

“Is that book good?”

• Your eyes lit up and you nodded handing it to him so he could look at it and read the back.

“Wow...”

“I could lend it to you, it’s my favorite.”

“Really?”

“Yeah!”

• He handed you his book

“Then a trade, y/n.”

• You picked up his book and skimmed through it.

“A trade, Akaashi.”

• He nodded smiling at you, after 3 months of coming to the same coffee shop, the routine of small talk built up to him trading a book

• As the bell dinged, he watched you apologized, to which he shook his head signaling an okay, and watched you walk away.

• Everything about this Sunday morning light seemed to have you looking more angelic than normal to him.

• You occasionally shot him a smile and went on making on coffee orders, only to pick up his book to continue reading

• But you knew, this was only a Sunday thing. The moment he went back to being the cute setter boy at school, you two would walk past each other wordlessly.

• Akaashi stood up, about time he usually leaves and approached the counter purchasing a few white flowers.

“And who’s the lucky person these are for?”

“For you.”

• You blushed holding them to your chest

“You work with flowers and coffee all day, I doubt you ever get any of the flowers.”

• He smiled before walking out of the store leaving you speechless

“What a MAN!”

• You turn to your boss who smirked leaning against the doorway

“If you don’t get at him, you are officially a psycho.”

“No I’m not!”

“As your boss I say you look cuter tomorrow and catch his attention.”

• You huff and nodded as they shooed you out of the store.

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

• You walked into school, and if you didn’t know any better, you could’ve sworn everyone’s eyes were on you

• And who could blame them, your usual ponytail was down, your cheeks rosier and your lips glimmering in the light of the hallway at school

• You walked down the hallway opening your book, well Akaashi’s, and read through it.

• You looked up to see Akaashi talking to a very hyper Bokuto

• He looked at you, eyes widening, but he didn’t stop walking nor looking at you.

• You continued walking, disappointed that he didn’t talk to you, but went on.

• Hearing a crash you looked back:

“Akaashi!!! What were you doing?!”

• You saw Akaashi rubbing his head on the ground and Bokuto standing over him

• You picked up Akaashi’s things while Bokuto helped him up

“Oh! You’re y/n!”

• You looked at Bokuto who smiled at you, you stood up nodding

“You’re Bokuto.”

• He nodded eagerly while looking at Akaashi and smirking

“Well I got to get to class. You know, third year things.”

“Bokuto what are you talking about? You never willingly go to cl-“

• Without letting Akaashi speak another word he sprinted down the hall leaving you two alone

“Here’s your things.”

“Oh! Yeah thanks!”

• You nodded and handed him his things, while you two began walking to class together

“This is the first time we’ve talked in school.”

“Yeah, despite seeing each other every Sunday we never speak outside of the shop.”

• He nods before you guys continued with a comfortable silence

“How’s the book?”

“Oh amazing!”

• As you rambled on about the book Akaashi admired the way you excitedly spoke about it, he couldn’t help but smile at you

• You stopped speaking and smiled at him fiddling with the end of your school skirt/pants

“I want to go out with you. Somewhere besides the shop and school.”

• You smiled and leaned up to place a kiss on his cheek

“I’d like that.”

• He watched as you walked to your own class, excited about what the future held with your date

“Akaashi!”

“Bokuto-San? I thought you went to class?!”

“Psh, I had to do my job as a ninja and spy on you and y/n. She’s cute huh?”

• Akaashi looked away blushing

“Yeah..”

“Ugh to be young and in love.”

“You’re not much older than me?”

“Silence.”

• Bokuto definitely spied on your date too with Konoha, only for you to catch them and Akaashi get embarrassed

“I can’t with you two.”

“WE can’t with YOU, you haven’t even kissed her!”

“You’re lucky I stopped him from singing kiss the girl from the litte mermaid.”

“I definitely would’ve wanted to be kissed if you two sang that for Akaashi and I.”

• This had Akaashi blushing at your words and pulling you along before the friendship only bloomed more.

Tags:

[yeojaa]

Fboi!jk WHO’s lowkey in Love with oc🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

[ request a milestone drabble ] 

pairing.  jjk x f!reader.  rating.  general.  tags.  infuriating college antics and mentions of drinking.  that’s about it.  wc. 0.9k.  beta reader.  n/a.  author note.  ty for the request!  i hope you enjoyed, even though it’s a little sloppy and disjointed.  😐😐 

Jeon Jungkook is many things:  campus heartthrob, surprisingly smart (but exceedingly lazy), the guy who works the front desk of the university’s gym.  He drinks too many coffees a day, keeps a photo of his dog in his wallet, and has a surprisingly big following on social media.  (For his photography and not his thirst traps, which is perhaps the most surprising thing about him.)  

He’s also the guy who shamelessly played you during his first year, wrapping you around his freshman finger as easily as a Red Vine at the movies.  It’s why you don’t like him now, barely tolerating him each time you’re in the same vicinity.

(Unfortunately for you, your friend group overlap is massive - the worst kind of venn diagram.)

“Stop,”  your best friend chides, legs hooked over her boyfriend’s lap, the tip of her finger digging deep into your side, assaulting the sensitive side of your ribs.  You almost knock over your drink with how much it startles you, leg making forceful contact with the bottom of the table. 

Beer sloshes out of its glass, three heads whipping to stare in your direction.  “Sorry!”  You play it off with a wave of your hand, gaze bouncing to Mina’s, brow knit tight over your stare.  “Stop what?”

“Stop glaring at him.”  The way she says it makes it seem stupid - as if the answer is the most obvious thing in the world.  You resent her for it, though not nearly as much as you resent him for existing.  

“I’m not.”

“You are.”  It’s two voices at once, Hoseok chiming in with his girlfriend.  

You resent Jung Hoseok too.  He’s the whole reason you’re stuck here on this Friday night, seated in the kitchen of the frat house.  He’s the one who’d tangled everything together, turning your group of girlfriends into literal girlfriends.  (You’re happy for them, you swear.  Joon is a sweetheart and Yoongi might always seem like he’s bothered but he’s nice too.  Even Hoseok is actually okay.)

“He’s being an attention whore,”  you retort, probably more petulantly than you need to, with needles sticking out of syllables, two year’s worth of history slipping alongside vowels. 

“He’s literally just sitting there.”

Mina’s not wrong - but he’s also flirting.  Shamelessly.  With one of the girls that seem to always be at these things, all chiming laughter and brilliantly white teeth.  You’ve seen her a handful of times, almost always at Jungkook’s side for at least some portion of the evening.  

“Give it a break, ____.”  

You wish you could.  In fact, you’d like nothing more than to not care about Jeon Jungkook and his infuriating antics.  It’d save you a lot of frustrations, make it so much easier to exist on the same campus as him.  

Because as it stands, it’s next to impossible not to be reminded of him, to go a single day without hearing about how great he is with his stupid boopable nose and sparkly eyes.  Every day, from friends or strangers, it’s simp central. 

You hate it.

Jeon Jungkook is good at many things:  passing classes he barely attends (which isn’t that many, because he is actually pretty studious all things considered), making jungle juice that could knock out an elephant, dying his hair pink.  

He’s also apparently really good at pissing people off when he doesn’t mean to.  Call it a skill of his.

One he’d honed with you, nearly three years ago now.  Back when he’d been young and stupid and uncertain, when he hadn’t quite grown into well, much of anything, when he’d had his priorities all messed up.

Maybe he shouldn’t have broken up with you within two months - citing needing to focus on school - and then dated someone shortly thereafter.  Maybe he shouldn’t have seemed to find himself in every class of yours, sitting across the lecture hall listening to the professor drone on and on about statics.  Maybe he shouldn’t have introduced one of his fraternity brothers to someone he knew you knew.

(He says maybe but he knows they were all bad choices made by an underveloped brain, too addled by Thursday night pub crawls and a grass is always greener on the other side mentality.)

Sometimes, he feels bad.  He doesn’t miss the way you pointedly ignore him when he’s around, how your expression seems to be stuck in a permanent scowl any time you catch sight of him.

(He’d have to be dumb to not notice all of that and while Jungkook is many things, dumb isn’t necesarily one of them.  Immature maybe.  Impulsive definitely.)

“Where’d ____ go?”  

Someone else asks the question he wants to but keeps caged behind his teeth, hidden past his molars.  

Mina sighs dramatically, pats her boyfriend’s cheek, and shrugs.  “Who knows.” 

But Jungkook knows.  Thinks he knows, anyway.  You’ve left, because you always leave when he does things you hate.  (And you hate everything he does.)  

One day he’ll get the courage to apologise to you, to explain that he still misses you.  He knows it won’t be well-received (why would it be?) but he’ll offer it anyway, awkward and stilted and not nearly as apologetic as it should be.

Today isn’t that day though.

[erin-bo-berin]

A Game of Chess

MASTERLIST

This was an anon request to write a fic that involved Spencer’s childhood friend Ethan that appeared in season 2′s episode Jones. To the anon who requested this, I’m so sorry it took so long to write, but I seemed to have trouble getting this fic perfect. But finally, I tweaked it and molded it into a story I’m proud of and really like how it turned out. Shoutout to the wonderful @multifandommandy​ for helping me with the inspiration for the unsub in this fic. With her suggestion of using the real Axeman of New Orleans from the 1900′s, the unsub in this fic was born. I hope you guys enjoy this fic. Enjoy some sassy, jealous Spencer. Happy reading!

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: M (smut)

Word Count: 6,907

New Orleans. 

Home of jazz, amazing food and beautiful sights.

Unfortunately, it was also the home of a current and active serial killer.

You and the rest of the Behavioral Analysis team had been called in for a serial killer running rampant in New Orleans, which meant that left little time to actually enjoy the sights.

“Remind me before we leave to take you to this jazz club I think you’d like,” your friend and coworker, Spencer nudged you with a smile.

“If we have a moment to breathe,” you groaned, taking a peek at the murder board that had already been set up by the local detectives.

“Don’t worry. I’ll make time for my favorite agent.”

He gave you a slight smile and a sly wink as he headed in the opposite direction of you to get started on some geographical profiles.

You felt a flush creep up from your neck all the way to your cheeks. It was no lie that you fancied the intelligent Dr. Reid and some days, you thought he actually reciprocated your feelings.

It felt like the two of you had been circling one another constantly for months, either pretending the feelings didn’t exist or shamelessly flirting with one another. At this point, you weren’t sure anything would ever happen between you two.

That still didn’t stop how flustered he could make you. Such as how he had just done.

It was something special to have his undivided attention. That was a recurring thing for you though. You always seemed to receive a more special kind of attention from him than the rest of your friends—aka the rest of the BAU team.

You were heading towards the table in front of the murder board to set down your things when JJ quite literally appeared out of nowhere by your side.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice that wink,” she smirked knowingly, settling down in a seat at the head of the table.

“Don’t start,” you retorted, cutting your eyes towards her in a warning glance.

“I’m just saying,” she smirked, opening the file and flipping through it before she spoke her next words.

“It’s just a matter of time before the other shoe drops.”

Whatever that meant.

•

You hooligans think you can catch me, but you can’t. You won’t. I’m much more cunning than you think.

You’ve found victims one, two and three. What about four, five and six? Seven? Maybe they exist, maybe they will exist soon. That’s for me to know and you to find out. If I wanted to, I could slay thousands of your best citizens, for I am in close relationship with the Angel of Death.

“Well, that’s not chilling at all,” you muttered.

A letter had been sent to the NOLA police department, apparently from the killer himself. He was taunting them and your team, that much you knew.

“Definitely a narcissist,” Rossi said, relaying your thoughts, “He thinks he’s untouchable.”

“Not to mention he actually took a line from the infamous Axeman of New Orleans case,” Spencer pointed out.

Everyone blinked at him, clueless.

“The Axeman was a serial killer from May 1918 to October 1919 here in New Orleans. He was never caught, but he typically murdered couples with an axe; axes that belonged to the victims. It’s similar to our current unsub although he’s killing women with an axe. That’s actually kind of similar to the Axeman because he did actually slay a few single victims, some being female and-”

Spencer paused, noticing the entire team staring at him, once again.

“I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

“Just a bit,” you nodded, holding back a grin.

Once the boy got started on something, it was hard to get him to stop. Or not talk 100 mph.

“Is this guy a genius or something? I didn’t even know about that serial killer,” the local detective, named Valadez, whispered to you as Spencer started back up and more to the point.

“You get used to it, trust me,” you grinned.

“The Axeman actually sent a few letters of his own,” Spencer said, looking at the copy of the letter, examining it, “He quite literally copied one sentence word for word.”

“Which one would that be?” Tara asked.

“I could slay a thousand of your best citizens, for I am in close relationship with the Angel of Death,” Spencer read.

“That’s the copied line?” Emily asked.

“Yeah,” Spencer answered distractedly, still studying the writing, “From the Axeman’s letter on March 13th, 1919.”

“So is this just a copycat?” Matt asked.

“I don’t think so,” Spencer answered, “Although the similarities shouldn’t be ignored. He kills women with axes and then sends a letter that has a line that’s verbatim for what the Axeman said.”

“So maybe he’s getting his inspiration from this Axeman guy?” JJ questioned.

“It’s possible,” Spencer nodded.

Spencer was totally in the zone, looking at the writing, tongue poked out of the side of his mouth.

“At most, he has an ego that needs to be stroked,” you said, “There will definitely be more victims.”

“Victim three, Raquel Clayton was discovered outside a jazz club,” Detective Valadez said, studying the murder board.

Spencer’s head jerked up.

“Did you say jazz club?”

“Yeah, does that mean something to you?” Luke asked, curious.

“The Axeman also mentioned in said letter he would spare anyone that was listening to jazz music on a specific night. That night the entire town had dance halls filled with people listening to jazz music. Either his motive is somehow related to this or this guy is just fascinated by the Axeman case. What jazz club was it?”

You were glancing over the detective’s shoulder, reading the file. The name struck you as one you’d just heard earlier in the day. With a smirk, you looked at Spencer.

“Up for a trip to your favorite jazz club?”

•

“It doesn’t surprise me that I managed to actually bring you here, but under the fact of work circumstances,” Spencer grumbled.

“Hey, we’re here aren’t we? We can enjoy a little music while we ask around and see if anyone has seen anything.”

The club was darkly lit, but was filled with soothing sounds of jazz music. You could see why Spencer liked it here.

“The music is pretty.”

“It is, isn’t it?” he agreed.

You stood for a few moments more taking in the pleasant sights and sounds around you before sighing.

“Guess we better get to work, huh?”

Spencer nodded.

“You start with the bartender and workers around there, I’ll start at the back. I’ll meet up with you later,” Spencer said.

You nodded and headed off to start your first rounds of questioning.

-

An hour later you met a disheartened Spencer. He’d had no more luck than you had. No one had seen anyone suspicious, no one had seen anything, there wasn’t even the first hint of who a suspect was.

This guy seemed to be as invisible as the real Axeman.

“Maybe Jazz was just a coincidence?” Spencer asked.

“You know as well as I do, that there’s no such thing as coincidences in our line of work,” you commented.

He was about to say something when a voice interrupted him.

“Reid, is that you?!”

You and Spencer turned to see a tall man, roughly the same age as Spencer with dark hair and dark eyes. His long beard would’ve been unruly on anyone else, but on this man it seemed to fit him perfectly.

“Ethan?” Spencer’s face lit up, as he hugged the guy.

“It’s been quite a long time since I’ve seen you. What’s it been? 13 years?”

“About,” Spencer nodded, “I didn’t know you were still here in New Orleans.”

“I just got back after some traveling. You can take the boy out of New Orleans but you can’t take New Orleans out of the boy.”

You watched the exchange back and forth, smiling politely.

“Are you gonna introduce me, Spencer?” you asked.

“Well, does Reid here have a girlfriend? Cause if so, he sure does have mighty fine taste,” the man said.

“No, he’s not my boyfriend,” you chuckled, “I’m his partner.”

You held out your hand.

“Supervisory Special Agent Y/N Y/L/N. But you can just call me Y/N.”

He smiled, shaking your hand.

“Reid, you didn’t tell me the FBI had such beautiful girls like Y/N here. If I’d known that, I wouldn’t have dropped out of the FBI so long ago.”

You smiled bashfully as you dropped your hand from his.

“Y/N this is an old friend from Las Vegas, Ethan. We grew up together.”

With a sidelong glance at Spencer you could see him jaw clenching and unclenching. Something he did when he was annoyed. That intrigued you. What was annoying him?

“So you were in the FBI?” you asked, curious.

“Nah. After the first day of training, I dropped out. Left it to this guy here,” Ethan nodded to Spencer, “I knew Reid would be the better agent anyway.”

“What made you drop out?”

You winced, realizing your tactlessness. 

“Sorry if that was too personal of a question,” you apologized.

“No need to apologize,” he held his hands up, “With a pretty agent like you, I’d spill all my secrets.”

A slight blush grazed your cheeks and you smiled brightly up at him. It was nice to hear such compliments. It was something you weren’t used to.

“I figured out I wasn’t up for being in the FBI. Much more of a musician, I guess you’d say.”

“Oh, you play?”

“Sax, piano, a little guitar.”

“Impressive,” you grinned.

“So, Reid. You doing better now? No more addiction?”

“Addiction?”

You furrowed your brows, looking at Spencer quizzically.

“It’s nothing,” Spencer mumbled.

“Last time I saw him he was pretty messed up,” Ethan said, demonstrating a shaking hand, “What was it you were on again?”

“Dilaudid,” Spencer answered, lips pressed in a thin line.

“What?”

You had joined the team only eight years ago, in your early twenties, just shy of Spencer’s thirtieth birthday. He’d already been with the BAU for eight years himself by that time. There were a lot of things you didn’t know about his past and apparently, this was one of them.

“Y/N is a newer member to the team,” Spencer said, suddenly seeming more relaxed, “She only joined a couple of years ago.”

“How long has it been since you’ve been in the BAU again man?” Ethan asked, taking a sip of his drink.

“Fifteen years.”

“Damn. That’s impressive. I could never. Guess that’s why I ended up here,” he motioned with his glass, indicating this certain jazz club.

Spencer’s phone rang, but he ignored it.

“Speaking of,” Ethan turned to you, “How would you like to hear some great music sometime? I could get you front row seats. Maybe even play a request or two just for you.”

He winked at you, increasing your flush. It’d been a long while since you’d had a guy hit on you, hence your constant flushing. You were flattered and you were seriously thinking about taking up his offer.

Spencer’s cell started in again. Once again, it went ignored.

“If I get a chance, I’d love to come hear you play.”

He was about to say something when the cell rang again. For a second you actually thought it was Spencer’s phone again, until you felt the vibration against your thigh from your own phone.

“One second, excuse me,” you apologized, taking your phone out of your pocket.

You had a missed call, followed by a new text.

New body found. Meet us at crime scene ASAP.

It was from Emily.

“I’m awfully sorry to break up this reunion, boys,” you said, “But we gotta go. The job calls.”

“No problem. See you around dude,” Ethan said, patting Spencer on the back.

“Anytime you want to take up my offer, just drop by. I’ll hook you up.”

This was said to you.

He raised his tumbler in your direction with a flirty grin as he backed away.

When you turned to follow Spencer out, you realized he’d already left.

•

You and Spencer arrived at the crime scene ten minutes later.

“What took you guys so long?” Emily asked.

“Sorry, my phone was off and Y/L/N didn’t tell me you needed us.”

You shot Spencer a look.

What the hell was he talking about? You certainly had. Especially after he’d ignored his own ringing phone twice.

“It’s fine, you’re here now,” Emily said.

“Another body was dumped. Female, approximately 25-30, seems to be wounded from an ax,” Detective Valadez said.

“Man, he really did a number on this poor woman,” you mumbled, shaking your head, “She must’ve really pissed him off.”

The victim was so wounded and bloodied, it was difficult to identify much else about her.

“I know what that’s like,” Spencer mumbled.

You glanced at him again, your questioning glance being plainly ignored.

What was up with him?

“Split up. Witnesses said they had just seen her get off of the bus down the street. We need to know how she ended up here,” Emily said, “Y/N, Spence. I want you to start at the bus stop and see if you can retrace her steps.”

So that’s how you and Spencer ended up at the bus stop, him mumbling to himself and you exasperated at his silent treatment.

“How are we going to figure anything out when you won’t even talk to me?”

He continued to ignore you, walking up and down the sidewalk, thinking.

“If you’re mad can you just please tell me why?”

“I don’t know. You might be too busy flirting with some passerby,” he grumbled.

You were even more confused. 

“What are you talking about?”

Back to ignoring you again.

“I think we’ve figured out about as much as we can from here, let’s go,” Spencer said, taking off.

He left you behind feeling even more confused than to begin with.

•

The only bright spot of the next few days was that there was a break in the case.

Thanks to Spencer’s excellent geographical profiling skills, he’d managed to narrow down the unsub’s hunting ground.

The icing on the cake?

In the dead middle of his hunting ground was a jazz club. The same jazz club you’d been to with Spencer the day before, the one where Ethan frequently played at.

Two more victims had been murdered, something that made your heart twist painfully in your chest. You’d been too late to help them, but now, you could get justice for the poor women who had met their untimely end. 

To attempt to catch him, the team came up with the idea of sending an undercover in and staking out the place in an attempt to lure him out.

You were going to be the one that would be sent in. In fact, you yourself volunteered to. You wanted to arrest this guy and throw him in handcuffs. It’s what the bastard deserved after his heinous crimes.

Even though Spencer had hardly talked to you for the last few days, he still flat out refused. He kept trying to talk you out of it and convince Emily to send someone else in. But you’d already made up your mind. 

“You’re not going in there, Y/N,” he protested.

“Yes. I am.”

Your voice had a steely edge. He wasn’t going to change your mind.

“Do you know how dangerous it is?!” he’d thrown back at you.

“Gee, no. I never thought about it,” your sarcastic tone was harsher than you intended, but it felt good.

If he was going to be mad at you for whatever reason, then so be it. But you had every right to be just as angry at him for giving you the cold shoulder.

“This is serious, Y/N.”

“You know what, Spencer? You have some nerve acting like you care about me all of a sudden. You have no right to order me around like you’re my father. Especially since you’ve been passive aggressive with me all damn week.”

With that, the plan was set.

And you went in.

•

“Remember, Y/N,” came Emily’s voice in your invisible earpiece, “If you encounter our unsub, we have to catch him in the act. It’s very likely he will attack you and try to hurt you, you know that right?”

You trailed a finger around the lip of your tumbler, looking around the mostly empty bar before answering.

“I’m aware. I’ll be alright.”

“Okay. Just act like a normal young woman out having a night out. We know he’s picked up all his victims here.”

“Got it.”

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Agent Y/LN,” you heard.

You turned around, seeing Ethan stroll up to you, a sly grin on his face.

“Well hello there,” you grinned, leaning against the bar, “And please, call me Y/N.”

“Y/N,” he said trying out the name, “Might I say you look outstanding tonight.”

You smiled down at the deep teal ruched dress you had donned for the evening. It was a simple dress with thin spaghetti straps and a deep plunging neckline, showing off more of your breasts than you ever had at work. It fit on your body perfectly, hugging your curves and highlighting them. A pair of strappy, gold, stilettos were the only accessory you’d paired with it.

“Thank you. I’ve been anxious to hear you play.”

“Where’s Reid? Did he not come with you?” Ethan asked.

“Oh, he’s around,” you replied coyly.

Just outside, down the street sat Luke, Rossi, Emily and Spencer in an undercover van, watching the entire thing on their monitors.

The styrofoam cup in Spencer’s hand crumpled from his grip on it as he watched the scene unfold before him. Thankfully, he’d already finished his coffee earlier.

Rossi glanced at the cup then to Luke, with a raised brow.

“You okay there Reid?” Luke asked, knowingly.

“I’m fine,” he gritted out. 

“Right,” Rossi drawled, clearly not convinced.

“Isn’t that your childhood friend?” Emily asked.

Yup,” Spencer said and nothing else.

“I saved you a seat at the front, just like I said I would,” Ethan said.

Spencer’s blood boiled when he saw Y/N’s hand on Ethan’s arm. She was doing that thing she did when she flirted: that cute half smile and a peek up through her lashes. 

He’d seen it before many times. It was just one of the many things he’d noticed about her before.

“I’ll personally escort you.”

Ethan wrapped an arm around her waist, leading her towards the stage. They were briefly off camera for a moment and Spencer couldn’t help but feel the jealousy tugging at him. He wouldn’t even be in this position if—well it wasn’t important right now.

They appeared back on camera, near the stage. He sat her at one of the tables at the front.

“I’ll try hard not to mess up. It’s a bit nerve wracking when you have such a beautiful girl in the audience to cheer you on.”

Spencer fought the urge to roll his eyes. 

Y/N actually giggled in response.

“Reid, you’re seconds away from snapping that pencil in half,” Rossi said.

He peered down, not even realizing he’d picked up a pencil to worry in his hands.

“Anything you’d like to share?” asked Rossi.

Spencer looked at the three expectant faces staring back at him and grimaced.

“Not particularly,” he grumbled.

“Reid’s just mad that his friend is making moves on his girl,” Luke stated, nonchalantly.

“She’s not my girl,” Spencer replied.

“Dude, come on. We all know that you like her and just refuse to make a move.”

Spencer glanced at Rossi and Emily who seemed in agreement to Luke’s statement. A glance at the monitors showed that nothing exciting was happening anyway, so there was no way to avoid this conversation with his teammates.

“It’s like a game of chess,” Rossi said, steepling his fingers together.

“What is?” Spencer asked.

“You and Y/N,” he replied, “But it’s like you’re both stuck in a stalemate waiting for the other to make a move.”

He had no reply to that. What was there to say? Rossi was right and it was all his own damn fault.

“Take this as a lesson, kid,” Rossi advised.

“A lesson how?”

“Let this be your motivation.”

-

Ethan had left you since he was up next.

You sat at the table, sipping on your drink when you heard an unfamiliar voice to your right.

“Looks like you’re awfully lonely tonight.”

You turned to see an average looking man dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt. He seemed out of place in such a casual outfit. That didn’t qualify him as the unsub though.

“Maybe I like to be alone?”

That stopped the guy in his tracks. He quite literally backpedaled and left you alone again. You heard a muffled snort in your earpiece.

“You sure know how to tell ‘em,” Luke scoffed.

“Yeah, well, if our unsub is picking up women with lines that bad, we’re in even more trouble than we realized,” you muttered.

You knew from the profile that this unsub was full of himself and egocentric. He would have to be smooth enough to actually lure a woman back with him. 

“We’ll keep watching,” Emily said.

You sat alone in peace as Ethan played. He was rather good and you had to say you were impressed. 

Your drink eventually disappeared and when you caught Ethan’s eye, you held up your glass just slightly, nodding towards the bar so he knew you were getting a refill. You stood, heading towards the bar, deciding you’d just go for a simple water. You were on the job, after all.

“I’ll take a water, please,” you told the bartender.

He was young, maybe early 30’s with dark hair. He seemed put together, even for a bartender. His outfit was neat and mess free and not a hair was out of place.

“For a beauty like you, you should have a drink, it’s on the house. It’s my specialty.”

He leaned forward to you, giving you a sly wink, as he reached for a glass without even hearing your answer.

“No, that’s okay, really.”

“Oh come on. One drink won’t hurt. I make the best drinks in the city,” he said.

Something in your mind was trying to piece together, but you couldn’t get it to completely form. Shaking it off, you reluctantly relented.

“Okay, I’ll take one then.”

He mixed the drink, poured it in the glass and slid it towards you.

“Now tell me that isn’t the best drink you’ve ever had.”

You took a sip. It was too strong for your taste but you smiled anyway.

“It’s very good,” you lied.

“So, have you heard about these weird ax murders happening around here?” he questioned, wiping the bar.

“Mhm,” you hummed, “Scary stuff.”

“It’s amazing these deadbeat feds can’t seem to catch him,” he shook his head, as if it were a real tragedy.

Neurons in your mind were sparking and there was something about him that was setting you on edge.

“What did you say your name was, again?” you smiled, flirtatiously.

“I didn’t.”

His grin was icy. 

Red flags were going up. If he wasn’t your unsub, then this guy surely wasn’t someone to mess with.

“Oh my bad,” you giggled, playing the part of a flirty, young woman, just there for some fun.

“Anyway, all I gotta say is, is that this guy is really proving a point.”

“How so?” you asked.

“You just gotta give the ax to some people,” he replied, slamming his palm down on the bar top, making you jump, “You know what I mean?”

You nodded, seeming interested, but goosebumps were forming on your skin. It was too much to be a coincidence that this guy wasn’t the unsub and he sure had the ego to match the profile.

“Oh excuse me,” you said, reaching for your phone in your purse, pretending like you were getting a phone call, “It’s my boss. She can’t leave me alone even on a night out.”

You smiled apologetically and put the phone to your ear.

“Hello? Yeah, just a minute, I can’t hear you.” 

You covered your other ear as if you were trying to hear as you headed towards one of the side doors. 

Once you were out of the building, you pulled your phone away, hitting the speed dial for Emily.

“Prentiss.”

“Emily, it’s me. Did you hear any of-”

Before you could finish your question, you felt a hand over your mouth and you were jerked backwards. You kicked and screamed in tandem as your phone hit the pavement and you were dragged back into the darkened alley.

-

“Y/N? Y/N?!” Spencer yelled, panicked eyes looking at the others.

“Everyone move. Now. We believe the suspect has a federal agent,” Emily barked into her walkie talkie.

“Cover the parameter. We have no idea which direction he could’ve taken her,” Luke added over the radio.

Spencer was out of the door before anyone could stop him.

“REID! REID!”

He heard Rossi yell out after him, but he didn’t stop running.

If that son of a bitch dared to hurt a hair on Y/N’s head, he was going to leave here tonight in a body bag instead of handcuffs.

Spencer would make damn sure he’d see to it.

•

Your back hit the brick wall, the nearby streetlight hitting something metal just right that it gleamed for a split second. 

Your heart stopped when you saw the blade of a hatchet in the bartender’s hands.

“I knew the feds had been around here snooping for me,” he sneered.

“How?” 

You tried to act cool. This was part of your job, to be in dangerous situations. But truth be told, you were terrified.

“Your little boyfriend Ethan mentioned seeing you and your partner here the other day asking around about me. Little did he know he was really doing me a favor by letting me in on that little piece of gossip.”

Ethan. He had just gotten back from a tour of the world. He was innocent in all this, yet somehow he still ended up mixed up in it.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you scowled, wriggling against his grasp.

He held you tight with one arm across your neck and shoulders, his arm almost to the point of choking you. You had to stall, had to do something. Where was Emily and the team?

“Where were you that day anyway? I never saw you here.”

“That’s because it was my day off. Lucky break huh?” he snorted, “Besides, I was in search of victim number five.”

Lillie Newton. She was victim number five. She had a name, she wasn’t just a number. 

Anger boiled within you. Pure hatred for someone as evil as this man that stood before you.

“Why? Why do it? Were you just trying to be another copycat?”

“You know, one of the things said about the Axeman of New Orleans was that his crimes were mostly ethnically motivated. He killed mainly Italian-Americans or Italian immigrants. For some reason, he must’ve hated them. I found it...inspiring. Of course, I have nothing against the Italians. Unless they’re women, that is.”

“Oh so that’s it? You hate women? Talk about typical psychopath 101,” you spat.

A sharp sting came across your cheek as he slapped you, hard. Hard enough to bring tears to your eyes.

“Listen here, bitch. I’d watch my mouth if I were you, because this baby?” he lifted up his machete for you to see, “This can do a lot of damage. I can’t wait to strike it into you and chop you up so your FBI friends won’t even be able to recognize you.”

You swallowed hard. Your brain was scrambling for a way to escape. You were just about ready to kick him in the groin when he was suddenly yanked away from you, his hard grip leaving your body.

You blinked quickly, not understanding what had just happened until you saw Spencer a few feet away, punching the guy. It wasn’t just one punch either. Two, then three came. You bounded into action then.

“Spencer! Spencer, stop!” 

You tried pulling him away as the rest of your team came running into the alleyway. He managed to get one more hit in before you successfully pulled him away and Luke had pulled the unsub up, slapping cuffs on him faster than you realized he even could.

Spencer grabbed you and pulled you close, holding you tight. His head went into the crook of your neck as he clung to you, all of his apparent fear and worry being transmitted from him to you through the hug. No matter what tiff you both may have been in the middle of, he still cared about you.

“I was so scared something happened to you,” he mumbled.

He pulled back, looking over you, assessing you to see if you had any injuries.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I promise.”

His finger brushed your cheek lightly and you winced.

“Did he hit you?!”

“Slapped me, but I’m okay. It’s just a little sore,” you told him.

“You might have a nasty bruise there in a few days.”

“Least it’s just a bruise, huh?” you smiled a tiny bit.

“Yeah.”

He was gazing directly at you as if no one else were around, as if there wasn’t a bustle of activity around you. In that moment, it was just the two of you.

“Spence.”

You both turned to see Emily, motioning for him, needing his help.

Spencer let go of your arms, stepping back a bit.

“I’ll talk to you later, okay?” 

With a nod, you watched him head in Emily’s direction. It had been a long day. A long week actually. But the murderer had been caught and there would be justice for the poor families who had lost their daughters.

That wasn’t all though.

Something had seemed to shift between you and Spencer. Sort of like a chess piece in it’s hesitant movement to another square.

•

By the time you’d handed over the unsub to the local precinct so he could be their problem, it was well past midnight.

Everyone had been way too exhausted to even think of boarding the jet tonight, so it was mutually decided that they’d spend one more night in New Orleans and head home tomorrow. Everyone had gone their separate ways once back at the hotel.

You headed to your room, managing to score an ice pack for your sore cheek. Unfortunately, after all the excitement, there was no time to talk to Spencer and he’d left the precinct before you had anyway. You made a mental note to check in on him tomorrow and maybe even see if things were okay between you two.

You’d changed out of the dress and into more comfortable clothes—sweatpants and a t-shirt. You were sitting at the small table in your room, icing your cheek and pretty much about to fall asleep when there was a knock at your door. Sitting the ice pack down, you walked to the door, opening it. You were surprised to see Spencer standing on the other side.

Before you had the chance to say anything, he grabbed your face and kissed you.

After your brief initial shock, your lips moved with his so fluidly it seemed natural, like you did this every day.

Minutes may have passed, or it might just have been seconds as you kissed him back, your hands naturally finding a spot to rest against his chest.

You were so stunned when he pulled away, that it took a moment for you to realize he had said something.

“Huh?” you asked, still dazed.

“I asked if I could come in,” he repeated.

“Oh, yeah, of course.”

You stepped aside and let him in, closing the door behind him. Your head was still reeling from the kiss as you turned around and saw him sit down on your bed, his hands running through his hair.

“Come here,” he whispered.

You walked over to him, standing in front of where he sat.

“I’m so sorry,” he began.

Your confusion deepened. Was he sorry about the kiss? About you getting hurt? About being mad?

He said nothing else as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to him and holding you tight.

“When I saw the unsub had you…” he mumbled into your neck, trailing off as his voice cracked.

You pulled out of his embrace to look at him. You now stood in between his legs, even closer than you had been before, your body mere inches from his.

“I was so afraid I might never see you again. Suddenly, me being angry at you was the least important thing in the world.”

“Why were you mad? If I did something I’m so sorry, I-”

“Shh, no,” he mumbled, his finger covering your lips gently to silence you, “It was my own fault, I’m so sorry.”

You waited silently, seeing if he was going to elaborate. His eyes closed, his expression looking pained and even a bit embarrassed.

“I was jealous.”

“Jealous?” you questioned, your brows furrowed, not understanding.

“Of Ethan flirting with you,” he sighed, “And you flirting back.”

“I,” you paused, your mind racing, not being able to piece everything together quick enough, “I was just being nice to him, then just playing the part earlier. Why would you be jealous?”

He gave a half laugh, almost a humorless one.

“Because I’m crazy about you, Y/N,” he whispered, his gaze finally meeting yours.

His hand cupped the side of your face, his other hand resting lightly on your waist. You didn’t move from his touch nor did you make a move to push his hands away. 

“And seeing you with someone else made me see red. Just the thought of you being someone else’s and not mine because I’d been too scared and stubborn, locked in this chess game, if you will, with you, not making a move. I was afraid I had been too late and I was mad at myself.”

“I’m not interested in Ethan. I only have eyes for you,” your eyes slid to his lips, unable to stop yourself.

You were still thinking of the way his lips had felt against yours. The softness of them, the passion in the kiss, the way his hands had cupped your face and held on firmly like he himself was afraid the moment was just a fluke.

“It’s always been that way.”

Your voice was barely a whisper now as your eyes slid closed and your lips found his again.

This time, the kiss was more heated. Your feelings for one another had finally been laid on the table, igniting a need to act on them.

Your hand tangled in his curls as you kissed him back fervently, suddenly feeling like you couldn’t get enough of him. You had spent years not knowing what kissing him would be like and now it felt like you were simply making up for lost time.

You smiled gently against his lips when he moaned into the kiss. Apparently, he was just as eager for your touch against him, as you were for his against you.

His hands reached for the hem of your top, pulling away to pull it up and over your head. His tongue moved out and over his lips slowly, his eyes taking in your newly exposed skin. Your own hands pulled at his loosened tie, dropping it once it left his body. 

Spencer’s mouth met your neck, leaving soft kisses down it as your fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. The simple task seemed so much harder as you were distracted by the feel of his lips on your skin.

In one fell swoop, he’d picked you up and turned, tossing you in quite a gentle manner against the mattress of your hotel bed. His hand ran over your exposed stomach, his kisses moving lower. You chewed on your bottom lip as you watched him, unable to control the growing desire forming between your legs.

You were so caught up in the sensation, it didn’t even register what he had been doing until you felt the slight tug of your waistband being pulled downwards. His fingers gripped the material and pushed it down over your raised hips until it was completely off.

You wasted no time in ridding him of his own pants as well.

Left in only your undergarments, you and Spencer laid practically skin to skin, taking a moment just to enjoy one another. He kissed you again, his slight scruff tickling your face, while his hands roamed your body.

You, also, took your sweet time exploring the new found territory of his bare skin underneath your hands. They ran over his back, his chest, his arms, his sides before finding their way back to his face, your lips moving in a fluid dance with his own.

He reached behind you, unhooking your bra, pulling the straps down until the item had completely left your body. You were almost positive he held back a groan as he took in your naked top half. 

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he whispered.

Your legs inadvertently clenched at his cursing. It wasn’t often he did it, but something told you that in bed it was a good possibility that he could be a completely different person.

His hands cupped each breast, his lips kissing your throat as he massaged them. His fingertips briefly moved over your peaked nipples, making you moan softly. 

Spencer wasted no time though, his touch quickly retreated downwards to the only item left on your body. His fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties and pulled them off, leaving you completely exposed and turned on beneath him.

Maybe it was a mixture of how close you came to death tonight and your feelings for him, but you didn’t want this moment to end. You wanted to hang on to it forever. That’s why you took your time, hands pushing off his underwear, your eyes meeting his.

It was like he could read your thoughts. Being as close as you two had been previous to this, it wasn’t surprising, but knowing you so well in this instance was just on a whole other level of mind blowing. He nodded, wanting to enjoy this for as long as he could too.

His hand covered yours, interlocking your fingers together as he pushed into you. The new feeling of him inside you was overwhelming but really good.

Your hands stayed laced together as he kissed you and moved within you. Your body met his rhythm and soon instead of two, your bodies moved as one.

Breaking the kiss, your head fell back against the pillow as you moaned. You couldn’t wrap your mind around the fact that he felt so incredible. His teeth bared into his bottom lip as he gazed down at you, his desire written plainly on his face.

“Spencer,” you whimpered, pulling your legs up his sides, allowing him a deeper access.

His movements quickened as your pleasure heightened, fulfilling the need for more. You couldn’t help but smile, even as you moaned, at the curl that fell over his brow, moving with each thrust.

“God, Y/N,” Spencer groaned, his forehead falling against yours, eyes closing, “Fuck.”

You briefly registered the other noises in the room besides both of your moans: the bed creaking and the headboard hitting the wall.

“Spence,” you mumbled, whimpering as he hit a sensitive spot, “You're gonna wake up the entire team.”

“Let them hear,” he grunted, “Let them know who you belong to.”

“Whatever you want,” you mumbled, pulling him towards you once again.

Your fingers dug into his back as your high built deep within you. He moaned against your lips, his hands gripping your sides as you both moved frantically, desperate to reach complete ecstasy.

“Fuck, Spencer,” you moaned, your noises suddenly higher in pitch and volume, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

He kissed you as you came apart, the fire in your veins shooting through you as quick as lightning. Luckily, his kiss muffled most of your loud moan. 

He buried his face in your neck as he soon followed, his own moans filling your ears, much to your delight.

Your fingers tangled in the back of his hair as you panted, starting to come down from the high. His body was slick against yours as he finally turned his face to yours, kissing you once again.

The cool air of the hotel room hit your sweaty skin, cooling it gently, but your insides still felt red hot, both in reaction to the sex and the fact that it was Spencer, the fact that he was as crazy about you as you were him.

The fact that both of you no longer played this complicated game you’d inadvertently been involved in for so long.

It was only after he’d stilled, his body still flush against your skin that he smiled one of his heart stopping grins, before finally speaking.

“Checkmate.”

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