#only have one arm out but it is waving around quite obnoxiously

[cottonlemonade]

First Date

word count: 1251 || avg. reading time: 5 mins.

pairing: University AU!Tsukishima x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none

request: i have been giggling and squealing for the past 20 minutes over how cute and genius the request form is 😭 LIKE ITS SO SMART AND ADORABLE I HAD TO SAY SOMETHING ABOUT IT. so anyways me and Tsukishima are getting 15 and 25 for breakfast, and then we'll go home to study! || fluffy, members of the same club, first date with crush Tsukki

Tsukishima never subscribed to the tradition of New Year's resolutions. In his mind, why bother setting unrealistic goals for oneself only to be disappointed? Whenever his friends and family asked, never learning their lesson, he would adjust his glasses and say, “Nothing.”, then silently add get saltier 2025. When he entered the gym for the first time after the winter break, however, he had to rethink. You were standing on a little stepladder, struggling to detach the last bit of Christmas decoration you had insisted on hanging on the walls before everyone went home for the holidays. Your chubby tummy looked even softer now bumping out your seasonal sweater.

“You know, if you can’t take them down by yourself, maybe you shouldn’t have put them up in the first place.”, he grumbled.

“Oh, hey, and a happy new year to you, Tsukki!”, you said brightly, turning to him and waving.

His heart did a little jump at the gesture.

Unfortunately, he had fallen for you pretty early on in your career as club manager when you bonded over your mutual hatred of overzealous people and loud obnoxious music played in department stores, and artificial watermelon flavor. He had since imagined you two walking across campus hand in hand, sharing more things to despise together. But in order to do that, he had to ask you out first. A hurdle he decided to take this year.

In his first draft of a date idea, he wanted to invite you out to dinner, but that was strongly vetoed by his wallet. Thus, a simple coffee would have to do for now. He shifted slightly, tapping the tip of his shoe on the floor to find an angle with which to direct the conversation where he needed it. Lucky for him, you did it yourself, although not in a way he hoped.

“Mikoshiba asked me out over Christmas, by the way.”

Tsukishima grimaced. He hated both the thought and the easy-going redhead, who all too much reminded him of the former Nekoma captain.

“Ah.”, he said, looking at a despicably jolly Santa bauble in the box sat on the top of the stepladder. An internal battle between wanting to ask for details and immediately smack-talking the other guy rose in his chest. Again, you made it easy for him.

“I didn’t go, though.”

“Hm. How come?”

You finally got the end of the garland off the wall, with no help from the tall boy, who could have grabbed it without effort.

He was met with a shrug.

“Not really my type. And he asked me out for coffee, which, I dunno, just feels pretty uninspired for a first date. I get that it’s a classic, but I wouldn’t mind some creativity.”, you hopped back onto the floor, “Plus, cafés around here are super overpriced.”

“Right.”

After trying your best to stuff the long prickly decoration into the box, you went to put it all away and, looking over your shoulder, you saw that he hadn’t moved from his spot next to the ladder where you left him.

You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but something about him was off today. More so than usual. Box in your arms, you came to a halt in front of a closed door. You turned on your heel, tilting your head in question.

“Could you open the door to the supply closet, please?”, you asked sweetly, since there was no indication he would be coming to your aid. He seemed deep in thought.

“Hm? Oh, yeah. Sure.”

It only took him three steps with those long legs to reach you. Before he pushed down the door handle, however, he said, “There is a limited New Year’s hot bun out at the convenience store.”

You blinked in confusion.

“Okay?”

“It’s one with sweet potato noodles and stuff. You like those.”

“I… I do. Thanks, I’ll check it out.”

The door remained closed, his hand still on the handle.

“There is a two-for-one sale.”, he went on after a pause.

You frowned, so completely lost as to the point of this conversation because it was obviously not informing you of a banging sale. “... Nice.”

He suppressed an impatient click of his tongue. This was going horribly, how dense could someone be?

“We can go together.”, he said.

“Alright…?”

“Like… today. I’m going there now anyway. I wouldn’t mind if you came along.”

“Uhm. Okay, yeah, I can do that.”

“Okay.”

“So are you gonna open this door any time soon or…”

“Right.”

Tsukki didn’t speak much with you as you headed to the convenience store. He pointed out a dog in a sweater for no reason at all and then went silent again. You still couldn’t figure out why he wanted you to come with him. Usually, he avoided any unnecessary social situation and in your opinion, this was as unnecessary as it got. You were roughly 94 percent sure he could handle getting the buns by himself.

“We should just eat here while we’re at it.”, he said as the glass doors slid open.

Maybe he had trouble with his roommate again and wanted to prolong going home, you speculated. In that case, you were pretty touched that he preferred your company over having none at all.

Food was gathered and warmed up and you took the two free seats at the small wooden table by the onigiri shelf. Watching you struggle to open a can of soda for a few seconds he took it from you with a surprisingly gentle, “Here. Let me.” then set it back down in front of you.

“Thanks.”

You ate in silence. Some current chart songs were coming from the overhead radio and you lightly bobbed your head along as you bit happily into the delicious hot bun. Tsukki placed a fried dumpling he had picked out as well on the plastic lid of your open container. “Try these. They’re good.”

“Famks.”, you mumbled through stuffed cheeks of sweet potato noodles and stuff, then eyed him suspiciously as you swallowed.

Either he was trying to discreetly poison you or, “Tsukki… is … is this a date?”

“What? No.”, he said quickly and lowered his head when the store clerk looked over.

“Oh okay. Just making sure.” You went back to the food, spearing the dumpling with your chopsticks but keeping an eye on him.

“If it were, it would be definitely more creative than a café though, right?”

You paused midair to your bite.

“So this is a date.”

“Yes. - No. I dunno. Don’t make it weird, okay?”

You slowly spun the dumpling around, studying Tsukki’s pink ear tips.

Never in a million years would you have guessed that this guy, who never had a nice word for anyone and less enthusiasm than a snail on a Sunday afternoon, could ever ask you out.

You considered him for a moment. He was pretty cute the way he avoided your gaze now. It was worth a try.

“Do you… like jazz?”

Tsukki squinted at you in disbelief.

“What’s wrong with you?”, he furrowed his brow but was unable to hide a relieved chuckle in there.

“Well, it was getting awkward so when in doubt, Bee Movie to the rescue.”, you laughed in your defense.

He finally cracked a proper smile and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Agh, okay, the next date is going to be better, I swear.”

You both nodded and grinned quietly at your dumplings, then continued to eat.

a/n: 🥺🥺🥺 dear anon, thank you so so much for that sweet message and I apologize about the delay! I hope you enjoyed this story nonetheless 🌟

Also borrowing Mikoshiba for this aka the only straight character from Free!

[apositives]

rises from the dead

[ravenslvt]

why does your best friend’s brother have to be so hot??

☆ suna rintarou x f!reader! (pt.3)☆

pt.1 pt.2 pt.4 links!!

cw: smut! porn with feelings, fluff!, oral sex f recieving, confessions, alcohol use (responsibly), reader is hot and she knows it, tiny bit of angst but not really, party!, atsumu is annoying.

you stare at yourself in the mirror, cursing trying to put the obnoxious earring backing on.

“here let me help you.” your best friend mumbles, moving your hair and easily putting the jewlery on in place.

“thanks… are you sure it won’t be too cold tonight? maybe the skirt is too much.” you pout, looking over your outfit. the only ‘going out’ clothes you really brought was a short skirt and your favorite top that you’d wear to parties back at college.

it was your last week here at the suna residence, with classes starting up again soon.

so of course, the miya twins decided to reunite everyone at their family home, and throw a party. you were at least thankful it was only a street away so no one had to drive over there.

“you’ll be fine. atsumu’s hosting, i’m sure he’ll offer to warm you up” ami giggles. you roll your eyes. the more eccentric miya twin had always pined after you back in high school. of course you never paid him any mind, your heart was always focused on rintarou.

everytime you’d go to the inarizaki volleyball games back in high school, he’d come up to you with his charming smile. ‘aww, come all this way just to see little ol’ me? how sweet!’ he’d say before his brother would come in and grab him, apologizing for his nagging behavior. what you’d never notice though, was the way rintarou would glare daggers at his friend, always flirting with you right in front of him.

you wouldn’t hear their conversations in the locker rooms back then either.

‘i think i’m gonna ask her out, what do you think, suna?’ the blonde setter comments, smirking at the brunette who sat on the bench on his phone.

he just scoffed, sounding unconvinced. ‘good luck with that.’

‘hey! what’s that supposed to mean?’ he pouts, his ego taking a blow.

‘just saying, doesn’t seem like she’s that interested in you.’ suna replies, taking a sip from his water bottle.

‘oh yeah? sounds like you’re just jealous, mister.’ atsamu’s lips quirk back up into his usual smirk.

rin’s eye twitches.

‘no way. she’s like a sister to me.’

“ami you liar, it’s cold as fuck!” you shiver slightly, holding your arms to your chest as you step out the front door, rintarou locking it behind you three.

“consequences of dressing like a hottie. some liquor will warm you right up” she beams at you, making you sigh. “i guess” you squirm uncomfortably in your outfit. the second you walked downstairs, rintarou’s eyes went directly to your bare legs in the skirt. he still seemed so nervous around you even after he’s quite literally been inside of you (twice).

“let’s go before atsumu drinks everything and starts challenging people to sing offs.” the older suna says, walking ahead of you guys on the sidewalk.

“jeez, why’s he in a mood” ami mutters to you, you just shrug, eyeing him.

rin wasn't too excited at the thought of watching guys fawn over you all night while he had to stand back and not be able to do a thing about it.

once you approach the house, you could hear music playing from the backyard. rintarou knocks on the door first, texting someone to let them know you were there.

the door opens a few seconds later, a grey haired twin smiling at you three. “look who it is! long time no see girls. suna.” he gives the man a side hug, they still saw each other from time to time after college. you noticed the way osamu’s eyes lit up when ami smiled back at him. your eyebrows quirked.

“everyone’s scattered around, mostly in the back. drinks in the kitchen, beer pong in the garadge. the usual.” he lets you guys in pointing to each area as if you all hadn’t been there before.

“thanks, samu! c’mon” ami grabs your arm, giving osamu a kirt wave before dragging you into the kitchen where a few familiar faces stood around. you two pour yourselves drink after drink, conversing with some girls you ran into.

“atsumu!” one of the girls waves behind you. you hear him approach, turning around to face him. rintarou stood across the room with the osamu, keeping an eye once he saw the blonde come up to you.

“if it isn’t my favorite girl! how are you, gorgeous?” he slings a strong arm around your shoulder. if you weren’t in such a good mood you probably would have shrugged him off.

“hi, miya” you play into it, giving him a friendly smile. but still, rintarou lingered in the back of your mind.

“miya? ouch, no need to be so formal to the future love of your life.” he puts a dramatic hand to his heart, as if he’d been stabbed. you just roll your eyes, moving his arm and stepping away from him. he puts on his usual pout, ignoring the other girls who were trying to get his attention.

“you’re funny. should be a comedian instead of an athlete.” you comment, taking a sip from the plastic cup in your hand. you ignore the familiar burning sensation of the alcohol in your throat.

“i think that’s the only compliment you’ve ever given me, i’m flattered.”

you roll your eyes at his antics. you should’ve expected this from him.

rin watches from the side, downing his drink a little too fast.

“don’t let atsumu rile you up, man. dude’s just trying to rebound from his last girlfriend who dumped him.” osamu reassures the tall middle blocker, noticing his glaring at his brother.

“rebound? he’s trying to hook up with her or something?” suna’s grip on the cup tightens at the thought of you even being near atsumu in that way.

“who knows, he’s been crushing on her since like second year. why do you care so much anyways? i thought you saw her like a- oh.” his eyes soften. he got it. the time he got lunch with suna a week ago, noticing the hickies on his neck. him mentioning that you were staying at their house over the break.

you two were fucking.

“jesus dude, does your sister know?” he questions, his voice getting a little quieter.

“huh? what, no. we’re both adults, i don’t see why…” rintarou drags on, noticing the way the blonde twin was getting closer and closer to you.

“then why do you- hey! where are you going?” the grey haired twin calls after him, but he just ignores him.

your eyes meet rin’s as he approaches. a hint of relief washing over you. osamu took this chance to chat up ami.

“what’s goin on, dude?” suna puts a hand on the setter’s shoulder.

“suna! missed seein’ you around!” the tipsy man gives his attention to his old friend, giving you a chance to slip away. you give ami some excuse like ‘need some fresh air.’ she just nods, making sure you’re good before continuing her conversation with the calmer twin. you smile at the way her face lit up when talking to him.

you sit on a loungchair by the pool, far enough from everyone. you pull out your phone, giggling at the thought of how mad rintarou would be realizing his sister and bestfriend were flirting. it was kind of ironic though, given your own situation.

your mind started to wander. were you wrong for openly lying to your bestfriend who you adored so dearly? you’d liked rin for years, but since you guys started hooking up, you’ve had a guilty conscience.

what even were you two? you weren’t dating, but more than friends. the stolen kisses you two shared when ami wasn’t in the room. the looks you give each other over dinner or when passing in the hallway. it would all be over in a weeks time. would he move on? find someone else to occupy his time?

“what are you staring at?” the low voice you know oh to well cuts through your thoughts. you realize you spaced out, staring into the changing colors of the pool lights. suna takes a seat next to you on the spacious chair.

“nothing, just thinking.” you shrug, bringing your gaze back to him.

“what are you doing out here?” you add, picking up your drink from the floor and taking a sip. he gives you a small smile.

“couldn’t let you sit out here all alone. especially if tsumu tried hitting on you again.” he watches as your lips meet the cup. your eyebrow quirked.

“hmm. someone jealous?” you smirk, placing your drink back down on the floor, your head already dizzy from all the alcohol you’ve already had. plus your close proximity to the man in front of you did not help.

he snorts. “of him? no way. if you wanted him you would’ve gone for it years ago. plus-“ he leans a little closer. “-he’s not the one who got to fuck you.” oh the liquor made him bold.

it was true, he wasn’t jealous of the setter himself. he was more jealous at the thought of anyone else having you. especially when you leave in a week.

“y’know, tokyo’s only like, three hours away from where i go.” he says. he refuses to look away from you. you just look so good.

“what are you implying?” you cross one leg over the other, leaning a little back to get a better look at him.

“i-i don’t know. just mentioning it.” you scoff at his sudden dry response. your heart feeling a small pang of hurt from remembering what atsumu told you just a few minutes ago before rin came over to save you from his nagging.

‘aw that’s cute. looking over at suna over there. y’know he told me he sees you as a little sister. such a sweet guy looking out for you like that.’ the worst part is he wasn’t even trying to be sarcastic or spiteful, just genuinely praising suna.

“right…” you sigh, standing up to leave. before you can even turn around he reaches for your hand.

“hey, what’s wrong?” his voice is full of worry. your shoulders slump, he stands to meet your height. he still held onto your hand, his thumb rubbing gently over your knuckles.

“i-i’m just drained. think i’m gonna walk back home.” your skin tingles at the way he’s so gentle with you. compared to the way he was in sports.

“let me walk you.”

“no, that’s not necessary rin.”

“you’re drunk, i’m not gonna let you walk home alone.”

“i’m not even that-“ you start, but he cuts you off with a stern scold of your own name.

“fine… but let me text your sister first.” you sigh, sending her a quick ‘don’t feel too god, rintarou’s gonna take me home. are you ok? we can stay if you want.’

she sends back a text that makes you giggle. ‘oh girl, do not worry about me’ you look up and spot her with osamu, she gives you a thumbs up. you knew you were right. she’s been wanting to hop on the samu train since high school. glad she finally got the chance.

‘don’t wait up. probably gonna stay here tonight. do NOT tell my brother he will murder me and samu both.’

you laugh at your phone, suna gives you a confused look.

“what’s so funny?”

“oh, nothing. let’s go.”

you two snuck out the back gate, not wanting to draw any attention. it was bad enough you two were walking out together, a lingering mark still on his neck from just a few days ago.

“you still cold?” he asks, your shoulders brushing as you walk down the dark street.

“nah, ami was right. tequila warms me right up.” you say. plus the close proximity to him kept you warm, his body heat radiating from under his jacket. it stayed silent for a few moments before you speak up.

“was… was atsumu telling the truth?” you say, looking up at him.

“what did that idiot say this time?” he gives a small laugh.

“that you think of me as a sister.” this makes him stop dead in his tracks. he looks at you nervously.

“do you really think we’d have done all we did if i thought that?” he says, pushing a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. you shrug, making him sigh.

“i said that shit in high school. before…”

“before what?” you peer up at him, his callused hands moving to cup your face.

“before i realized i… had feelings for you.” he confesses, making your eyes widen.

when rintarou first realized he was in love with you, it was a little later than when you developed your own crush on him. it was your eighteenth birthday, suna was nineteen and in his first year of college. ami threw you a suprise party at her house, inviting all your friends. you wore your prettiest little outfit. ami even convinced her uncle to get you guys some beers, needless to say, the birthday girl drank most of them.

when the night went on, you spotted rin nursing his own beer on the couch. you come up to him, sitting maybe a little too close than you meant to.

“why’re you sulking here by yourself. s’my birthday! i command you to have some fun, rintarou.” the way you said his name made something stir inside of him. your body faced his, you didn’t even notice the way your dress rode up on your thighs, or the way his eyes immediately went down to them.

“how’s it feel to finally be an adult?” he says, forcing his eyes back on yours.

“s’alright. kinda anticlimactic but i’m glad m’here. glad you’re here.” you admit, the alcohol clearly making you more bold. his eyes widen a little. you weren’t just his little sister’s best friend, you were a smart, funny, beautiful woman. he’s always known you were pretty, it was obvious. but he’d never had a genuine conversation with you like this.

you two talked for half an hour. everytime you’d smile or laugh at something he said, his heart beat would quicken in his chest.

your head whipped when you heard a call of your name from one of your friends. “c’mon! we got you a cake!”

he never forgot the smile you had on your face when your friends put this much effort into your birthday. it just proved what a good, special person you were. he found himself not wanting you to leave, wanting you to stay talking with him. the nagging pain in his heart when you got up to leave, giving him a cute little wave and a ‘talk to you later!’

then it all clicked.

years of glaring at any boy who approached you, smiling whenever he’d see you in the stands of his games cheering him on, the small tingle of excitment in his chest when he knew you were coming over to see his sister.

he’d loved you for so long, and he never even realized it. not until you left for college, leaving him with his own feelings to sort through. so when he found out you were staying with them over the break, god was he estatic on the inside.

you two stand only a few houses down from his. you could easily walk over and continue the conversation there, but he needed you. needed you to know how much he truly cared.

“oh” a hint of nerves crawled up your spine. your head spins. you’d been this close so many times before, but behind closed doors. except that one time in the kitchen.

but he held you in the middle of the street, not caring that anyone could walk out of their house and see you two. his forehead presses against yours, breathing in your air.

you didn’t know what to say, so you just lean up on your tipy toes and peck his lips, making him smile. he wraps his arms around your waist, not a chance of letting you pull away from him.

“rin, someone might see.” you giggle into the kiss, he just shakes his head gently.

“i don’t give a fuck, let them.”

you stand in his room. it hadn’t changed very much since the very few times you’d peeked in walking past it before. a few hoodies laid out in his chair from when he was deciding what to wear earlier.

he had a few posters on his walls, some of random volleyball teams and even some random bands. the room smelled like him.

“here, drink some water.” he walks back in, closing the door behind him as he hands you a clear plastic bottle. you take it, your hand brushing with his own. you seat yourself on the edge of his bed, tapping your foot against the carpeted floor anxiously. you take a few sips to relieve your nerves.

“you look really good tonight.” his voice cuts through the silence. your head perks up, eyes meeting his.

“so i don’t look good every other night?” you give him a playful smile. he scoffs, hopping on the bed next to you, making the mattress squeak.

“you know what i mean.” his large hand finds your own, playing with you fingers.

this was probably the first time in the last few weeks you’d been alone for this long together without fucking.

“osamu knows about… us.” his hand doesn’t leave your own. your eyebrow quirks.

“you told him?” you softly ask, not angry or demanding. if anything, you were somewhat flattered he wanted people to know.

“he figured it out. mentioned i was ‘oogling’ you too hard” he gives a small chuckle, squeezing your hand gently. his small little acts of affection always made you relax into his touch. you lead your head on his strong shoulder, sighing.

“you think he’ll tell ami?” you peek up at him, moving a peice of his dark hair away from his eyes. he just shrugs.

“probably not. even if he does it wouldn’t be the worst thing.” he kisses your forehead.

“i’d rather her find out when i’m hours away. i don’t need to be murdered in my sleep for lying to her.” you reply. he just laughs.

“c’mon. you’re the only girl she’d ever approve of me being with. she loves you, my parents love you, i-“

you cut him off with a kiss to his surprisingly soft lips, pulling him in by the nape of his neck.

he smiles into the kiss, his hands going to your waist to bring you closer.

“c’mere” he grabs your hips, helping you straddle his lap, facing him. you hold back a gasp when you feel his half hard dick

“someone’s impatient…” you mumble into his mouth, he bites your lip in retort. you try to pull back but his mouth just follows yours, hands gripping your waist for dear life so you didn’t fall right off his lap.

“look so pretty in your little skirt-“ one of his hands reaches under your skirt, groping your ass through your panties, making you gasp.

“-wanted to drag you in the bathroom and fuck you over the counter.” his kisses go down your jaw, sucking new marks into your neck and collarbones.

“jesus, rin.” your voice is needy. you unconsciously grind your hips into his, needing some some sort of friction. the action made him groan.

your breath catches in your throat when he switches your positions, you laying on your back on his bed while he stands over you. his eyes go to your lifted skirt, holding back a groan when he sees the growing wet patch on the fabric of your panties.

he breathes out your name, looking up at you while slowly kissing down your exposed thighs, kneeling down. you squirm under him, he just gives your thigh a threatening squeeze. “stay still, pretty.” his nose finds your clothed clit, making you gasp.

“y-you don’t have to-“

“shush. i want to, so badly.” he assures, licking your clothed cunt. the fabric adding to the stimulation, making you grip his sheets underneath you.

he slides your soaked panties to the side, the cool air hitting your now exposed pussy.

“always so pretty for me.” he immediately delves into your cunt, lapping up and down you folds before focusing on your clit. you let out mewls of his name, gripping at his dark locs of hair.

he brings you closer to him, his arms locking under your thighs so he’s holding you up to his mouth. he could do this forever.

he moans into your wetness, the sounds of your pleasure making him practically get off. he slowly grinded his own hips into the bed, but not letting himself cum unless it was with you.

you’d never felt like this before. the constant laps of his hot tongue compared to his mouth sucking on your clit making you clench your thighs around him. he groaned at a certain harsh tug to his hair, the vibrations on your pussy only adding to the pleasure.

what really got you close to the edge though was when his tongue prods itself into your tight hole, making you try and pull away from how overwhelmed you were with how good it felt.

“f-fuck, rin, s’too much.” your thighs start to shake around his head, but he only speeds up. his nose catching on your clit while his tongue dips into you, pumping in and out. you let out a loud moan when you start to cum around his tongue, suna not even daring to stop. if all he could eat for the rest of his life was your pussy, he’d be between your legs all day everyday.

your hips roll into his face, wetness coating his chin and nose. you have to push his head away when it starts to get too much. he pulls away, panting. he wipes his mouth with his sleeve, crawling up on top of you to kiss you. you sigh into the kiss when you taste yourself on his tounge. it got you aroused all over again.

“rinnn” you whine, hands tugging at his hoodie.

“what’s up, baby?” he kisses your cheek, a smug smirk on his face looking down at you. he looked absolutely heavenly looking over you, hands on either side of your head.

“need you” you pout up at him.

“what do you need, hmm?” he sits up on his knees to pull his hoodie over his head, his bare chest and toned abs on display. you practically moan just at the sight of him. you’d never get bored of this view.

“you- your cock… please” your hands go straight to his abs, kissing down his pecs and stomach. he chuckles at you, hand smoothing down your hair.

“want me t’make you feel good?” he pushes your shoulders back down so your back is completley pressed against the sheets. you nod frantically.

“anything for my gorgeous girl.” he slides his pants and boxers off, throwing them somewhere on the floor. while he does this you take your chance to rip your top off, along with your bra.

he crawls back over you, slotting himself between your legs. you look at him expectedly as he pulls out his already hard cock. pre cum already leaking from his raging pink tip.

he lines himself up with you, impatiently siding himself into your needy hole.

you’d never felt him from this angle before, the way he was perfectly slotted inside of you.

he slowly moves his hips, cock sliding deliciously in and out of you. your eyes screw shut.

“g-god rin, feels so good, fuck!” your hands go straight to his shoulders, not caring how badly your manicured nails were dragging down his arms.

but it wasn’t enough for him. he grabs your legs, hoisting them over his shoulders as he pumps even deeper.

“there we go. so f-fucking perfect, baby.” his breath hitched as his pace quickens, fucking into you at the perfect speed and angle.

you let out the most borderline pornographic moan when the head of his cock hits that spongey spot deep inside of you. his hand goes to pinch and tug at your nipples, making you mewl.

“rinn!” you cry out as he pounds into you relentlessly. this was by far your favorite angle with him.

“right here, pretty.” he wants nothing more than to reach down and kiss you, but he didn’t wanna hurt your poor legs. plus you felt so good he didn’t wanna move. so instead his thumb goes to your slick pussy, rubbing and pinching at your clit.

“so fuckin’ messy.” he grunts, your cunt practically trapping him in. you watch as he spits down where you two meet, adding extra lubricant. the sight made you feel so dirty, but so fucking good.

his eyes watched the way his cock entered you so insanley perfectly. like you were made to take him. the wet noises coming from your arousal whenever he thrusts in and out and the sounds of your mixed moans filled the quiet room.

his head rolls back and he groans, he wanted to kiss you so bad.

“fuck- switch. want you to ride me.” you pout when he pulls out, leaving you feeling so empty.

you sit up, as he sits leaning against the headboard. he gives his cock a few pumps when he watches you climb on him, hands on his shoulders as you line his cock up with you. his hands hold your waist for support as you sink yourself down onto him.

you let out a moan when he’s fully seated inside of you. you move off of him almost all the way, bouncing yourself up and down his cock.

“oh-“ you moan as he snaps up his own hips to meet your own. you hear as his head slams against the wooden headboard with a grunt.

he grabs your throat, bringing you in to kiss him. it was messy and needy. all tongue and teeth at how fucked out you both were. he pulls back, his hand still lingering on your throat as the roll of your hips gets faster and faster.

his eyes focus on the marks he left on your neck, running a finger over the fresh dark purple hickies lingering all over your neck and chest. then his eyes go to your bouncing tits, grabbing them and bringing one into his mouth.

you groan when he bites down.

“rin- can’t anymore. g’nna cum” you whine out, your hips getting tired and messy. he sits up more straight, grabbing your hips and slamming up into you, making your eyes roll back.

“cum all over my cock, baby. told ya i’d make you feel good.” sweat beaded up by his brow, he was focusing on his thrusts.

“c-cum inside me rin! please, wanna feel you inside.” you plead. brain feeling like it’s short circuiting, the only thing running through your brain was how good his cock felt pumping inside of you.

he kisses you as you moan into his mouth, cuming around him and squeezing his dick. he pulses inside of you, warm cum filling you up as you share eachothers moans. your kiss goes from rushed and hot to sweet and tender as you come down from your orgasms. neither one of you makes a move to pull away, his cock softening inside of you.

“again?” you pant, kissing his cheek and looking at him with pleading eyes.

you yelp when he pinches your waist, but it turns into a small whine when you feel him get hard inside of you again.

“you’re gonna kill me, gorgeous.”

the clock read 6:28 AM. the sun was barely rising, you lie on rintarou’s chest as you two peacefully slept, his arm wrapped securely around your waist. his fluffy blanket wrapped snug around you.

the front door quietly creeks open, and shuts.

“shit that was loud as fuck” a hushed high pitched voice whispers. the younger suna sneaks up the stairs, shoes in hand, expecting to find you asleep in her bedroom. but the room was empty. the house was silent, her brother’s door closed.

hmm, that’s weird. you guys came back from the party, right?

ami knocks on her brother’s door, loudly in attempt to wake him up.

“hellooo?” she asks where you are, opening the door abruptly. “did you guys not come back from the party-“

“what the fuck?!”

a/n: need suna (requests) i love this man.

masterlist

[maneskinwh0re]

“one more word.” ~ butch!wolverine x ladypool!reader this is just a wlw honda odyssey scene bc i need butch wolverine to be real. i also aimed to write them in character! give feedback babes plsssss

cw: outdated cultural references, fourth wall breaking, nsfw, blood, f!ngering, strap!sex, idk just lotta gay shit xx

wc: 4.3k...👁️👁️

"get. in the fucking. car."

"it'll get you there safe and sound!" nicepool reassures with a loving pat to the top of the grey honda odyssey. "lil betsy always does." his eyes then fall to dogpool, who is held tightly in your arms. "you're gonna have to give me my dog back, though..."

"i know," you reply matter-of-factly. "listen-" you start before mary puppins places a paw on your hand. "yes, child... if you ever want to give her up or if she needs a new home, or if something should happen to you, i'd love to be her mama."

nicepool only wheezes at your remark. "what would ever happen to me?"

"lots of stuff," you reply with a shrug, smiling innocently under your red mask.

as soon as he realizes your seriousness, his smile fades and looks to the older woman standing to his right in an ask for help. the wolverine lets out a huff as she pushes herself off the honda and moves to grab the dog from your grasp.

"n-no! we're running away- agh- the corn was too dense, girl!" you say in apologies to mary puppins and watch sadly as laura hands the you-variant over to the other, nicer-you-variant.

you begrudgingly get in the passenger seat of the shitty car, waving goodbye to dogpool. the obnoxious sound of you singing "we'll meet again" is muffled by the car windows as laura drives you both away.

time passes. maybe 15 minutes, maybe an hour. doesn't matter, reader— don't worry about it. you haven’t been paying attention to the time because you’ve been sneaking quick gazes at the wolverine in the driver’s seat to your left. the way her brown hair curls up on either sides of her head looks so cute. yet the way her large, gloved hands grip the steering wheel causes your mind to wander other places. all you know now is there’s been a lingering thought poking at your brain since you picked this wolverine up from that bar in her universe.

"okay i'm just gonna ask. what's with the suit? first thing i did when i flamed out: i took mine off."

"drop it." laura mutters.

"it's not that ugly..."

"stop talkin about my suit."

"did you make it yourself? been there!"

"quit. now." the tension in her voice is rising.

"the x-men make you wear it? those sons of fuckin bitches. they are not your friends, i'll tell ya that. friends don't let friends leave the house looking like they fight crime for the los angeles rams-"

"shut the fuck up about the suit," she snaps.

"woahwoahwoah watch your frown lines, angel baby." you back off, lifting your hands in a motion of surrender. "i'm just trying to bond a little bit-"

"yeah? well then talk about something else."

"fine!"

there's an uncomfortable silence between you two, only for a moment before you play around, making spiderman web motions with your gloved hands. you just can’t help but annoy the woman next to you, it’s too much fun. it’s like your duty as passenger princess.

"stop it," she snaps again soon enough.

"why? don't wanna get distracted seeing my fingers in this motion?" you tease, moving your middle and ring finger back and forth. laura only scoffs at the sexual innuendo. "ahh, the natural hand position of the sapphics." you turn to look out the car window and make eye contact with the reader. "is that why so many masc lesbians are obsessed with spiderman? i guess only earth-616 knows the correlation..."

and wait- if i'm supposedly you, the reader, but as ladypool-- then how am i breaking the fourth wall? gasp! a fourth wall break inside a fourth wall break... that's like- sixteen walls... am i talking to myself? or talking to myself? whatever. anyway i know why you're here, you slut. let's make conversation by pushing wolvie's buttons some more, yeah?

"if they could fix your world, what's the first thing you're gonna do when you get outta here? some rubbing alcohol shots? maybe a wiper fluid chaser?"

laura's gaze slowly turns to you. "what did you say?"

"i said when you get back, what's the first thing you're gonna do-"

"no no, before that."

"if-" you catch yourself. shit. "-they can fix your world?"

with an aggressive slam on the break, your seatbelt doesn't even have time to prevent your head from colliding with the dashboard. and as the car stops, you know there's nothing that can save you from the rage behind wolverine's tone.

"what do you mean if?" she asks through gritted teeth, body fully turned to face you.

"i mean-"

"you lied to me. you don't have a fucking clue if they could help me fix things. do you?"

"no, but i mean-" you start to defend yourself before three metal claws impale your thigh, and probably extend under you all the way through to your seat. "agh- fuck! fuck! i didn't lie!"

"you lied!"

"no! i made an educated wish!"

laura only tilts her head at your defense, eyebrows furrowing.

"because i need you," you continue as you unfold the photo that was in your pocket and hold it up for her to see. "this is why. right here. cause if we don't do something, they die. i don't know anything about saving worlds, and why would i even care? cause my entire world is right here in this picture. it's only nine people, and i have no idea how to save it alone. i know how to fuck people up for money but you- YOU know how to save them... at least the other wolverine did-" at that last comment, laura twists her claws in your thigh, striking enough pain for more curses to escape your mouth. "f-fuck! ah- i guess i'm stuck with the worst one-"

"did you just say you made an educated... fucking wish?"

"they call me the merc with the mouth. they don't call me truthful timmy the blowjob queen of sass catoo-"

the three metal blades are quickly removed from your thigh only to be brought up next to your face. laura's shaky breath exercises seem to be the only thing keeping her from slicing you apart.

"one more word... please, give me one." her guttural voice is a low warning. you wait a moment as if thinking to a random word generator in your brain.

"~gubernatorial~" you say simply before cowaring behind flailing arms when laura prepares to stab you in the face, only fake you out. her breaths are deeper, more steady as if she's trying to calm herself.

"you know what? you're a fucking joke... no wonder the avengers didn't take you, or the x-men or fuckin anyone. i mean you are a ridiculous, immature, half-wit moron. i have never met a sadder, more attention-starved, jabbering, little prick in my entire life. and that says a lot 'cause i've been alive for over two hundred fucking years." the volume in her voice begins to rise with each word, striking your emotions further and further as you sit there speechless, yet her anger keeps rising. "and i'll tell ya- that villain chick was right about one thing: you will NEVER save the world. you couldn't even save a relationship with a goddamn stripper! and motherfucker i wish i could say you'd die alone, but it's one of GOD'S best jokes that you can't die! except that's all on all of US!"

she hits nerve after nerve. the pain in your chest hurts too fucking bad. you are not only speechless, you never want to speak again. you have millions of words to say yet none at all.

how fucking dare she bring up vanessa like that? who does laura think she is? no fucking hero, that's for goddamn sure.

"you got nothing to say, mouth?" she asks, almost out of breath from yelling accusations.

all you can manage to say is one sentence. and she doesn’t even fucking deserve the warning too. "i'm gonna fight you now."

wolverine only snorts, a pitiful laugh towards your remark. "oh, are you?"

you take note how a quick punch to her nose shuts her right up, and watch in satisfaction how blood trickles out her nostril down to her upper lip. your small victory is cut short by her fist colliding to the same spot on your own nose. she pushes you to the window and grabs the back of your mask, then slams your face down onto the center head unit multiple times. different radio stations flick back and forth as you make contact with the buttons and nozzles, eventually landing on a song from the original 'grease' soundtrack.

♡ last gore x nsfw warning !! :3 ♡

you lift your hand to grab one of your swords but another punch to the cheek causes your vision to cloud. by the time you come to your senses, laura has buckled your seatbelt and is digging her left claw into your stomach, twisting her hand slowly.

“not talkin’ now, are ya?” she growls before withdrawing her claws and moving to stab you again. pulling the lever on the side of your car seat, you fall backwards to quickly dodge her blow. you kick your foot against her shoulder to keep her back, and then tightly wrap your legs around her head. another three blades enter your side in a sudden motion, causing you to release your chokehold.

“agh! you dirty bitch!” you shout before kicking her out the front windshield of the honda. you laugh and point as she rolls and tumbles through the leaves and dirt. as soon as she gets up, you unsheathe your swords while she sprints back to you. she’s a fucking animal—ramming herself into the front of the car, causing the airbag to go off on your stomach and send you flying back into the reclined seat.

laura jumps through the broken windshield and lands claws first on top of your already bloodied body. slash after slash, you both further each others’ injuries until you flip laura over and pin her down to the seat. there is surprise in her eyes with a hint of something else that you can’t quite pinpoint. trying to catch your breath, she only looks up at you with a ratted smile, as if amused to see you attempting to kill her. blood stains her face and fanged teeth, and her short hair is tangled and damp with sweat. fuck—it’s a sight. with your elbow against her chest, you’re still close enough to smell her alcohol-tainted breath.

“need a mint, you preening slut?” you ask before you are flying through the sunroof of the honda and falling to the ground outside the car. after kicking yourself up, your little wolvie gestures for you to come back with a simple hand wave behind the window. who are you to keep her waiting? throwing the swords over your shoulders, you take out your baby knives before running back to the car and jumping through the window.

broken glass and blood is everywhere, but neither of you care. you’re both having too much fun trying to murder the other as you take turns regenerating. it’s a pointless waste of time and energy. a total meaningless circle of fighting and healing.

you pin laura through the broken windshield and onto the front hood of the car, stabbing her shoulder and arms repeatedly with a knife. the sleeves of her suit eventually fall apart, fabric scattering and leaving her muscular arms to your gaze. so clearly you’re distracted. she grabs your wrist behind her and heaves your arm over her head to hold you in her place for a moment to catch her breath.

she then drags you by the belt from across the car and holds you down with her body in the back seat. her claws sink through the red fabric and into your sides. again. and again. the repetitive motions of the sharp metal soon causes a big tear in the fabric of your suit, exposing the skin under your breast. it seems as if neither of you notice at first, continuously fighting until another stretch from her pinning your arms above your head causes a terrible ripping sound. you both stop and look down, unsure on who has the decency to yield the fight first.

wolverine pauses for a moment, hovering over your bare tit before suddenly attacking your nipple with her mouth. there is nothing gentle about it, and you can’t tell if her actions are still a way of fighting with the harsh ways her sharp teeth nip and bite.

you lay there for a moment in shock, chest heaving up and down in short spurts as you try to breathe. your hands drop the knives to the car floor behind you, yet your wrists are still trapped in the wolverine’s grip. before you can think to stop it, a breathy whimper escapes your lips. the sound pricks laura to come to her senses and looks up at you with a flushed expression.

fucking hell. if you weren’t okay with what’s happening, you would’ve said something by now. even laura knows that—considering how fucking chatty you are.

“were ya hungry, peanut? needed a mid-fight snack?” you tease, tilting your head with a raised brow.

“i didn’t say i was finished.” she smirks before lowering her head to your chest again. her tongue circles and flicks at your nipple, treating it oh so lovingly before biting and pulling at it so fucking roughly. you chew on your bottom lip to muffle your own moans—all because you’re too stubborn to let her know how fucking good it feels.

she’s holding herself back, yet you kick her chest and propel her weight backwards onto the head unit, while the momentum pushes you the opposite direction into the third row of seats. as she falls, the grease song playing from the radio is muted, leaving you two to a short-lived silence.

"i was wrong—the honda odyssey fucks hard,” you say, rolling your head back and cracking your neck in the process. looking back to laura, you usher her to you with a teasing two-finger motion. “too bad you don't, needle dick.”

“oh, we’re just getting started, bub,” she replies, eyeing your manspread position before lunging to you again.

calling her an animal is to say the fucking least. but you’re no better. she rips and tears your suit, not giving a single fuck in the world that you may need to keep it in tact for later in the plot line. she pulls the tough fabric apart, exposing your tits to her lingering eyes. it’s like a switch is flipped. all of a sudden she can’t get enough, wanting- needing to see more of you. for a moment, you just let her. your belt is removed followed by your pants all while you just lay back and watch her do the work. soon you’re only in your black underwear, smirking under your red and black mask at how fucking needy she looks. her callused hands grip your waist, easily pulling you up to her as her mouth finds your other nipple.

“you’re not you when your hungry. and clearly, you always seem incredibly hungry, wolvie.”

“shuh du phvck uh.” is what you make of her boob-drunk gibberish and assume she’s simply cussing you out.

“huh? couldn’t quite catch that. y’ know you really shouldn’t talk with your mouth full-”

a large, gloved hand muffles your masked mouth before her lips release your tit with a pop.

“off,” she says. you furrow your eyebrows in confusion and she must be able to tell by your silence, causing her to elaborate quickly while her free hand lingers on the black lace of your underwear. “i don’t want a damn word out of your filthy mouth until you’ve taken these off. if you want me to fuck you, you’re gonna have to let me.”

fucking hell. panties are soaking wet right now.

you slowly nod your head in her restrictive grip, and lift your hips to remove the damp fabric from your body. damp from blood or sweat or something else… who fucking knows and who fucking cares. you toss them to the side and immediately pull laura closer to you. her harsh kisses mark your neck and collarbone before she wets her middle finger with her tongue and starts to rub quick circles on your clit. you almost push her away, her starting speed too overstimulating at first, but you soon get used to it, bucking your hips in a physical ask to move faster.

“keep still, sweetheart. that’s it,” fuck even her praise is still low and demanding somehow. you wrap your hands around her hairy forearm, hissing curses as you feel yourself grow closer and closer to the edge.

“fuck- you know, i bet you’re a pretty good dj in some other univers- oh my god!” your silly quip is cut short by her pushing one finger into you. then another. and before you know it, you’re a blubbering mess as you soak her hand as well as the car seat beneath you. her mouth is against your masked ear, shushing your witticism. white rings of cum coat up to her knuckles while her thumb resumes a quick pace on your clit.

banter is over as quiet whimpers replace your usual chatterbox routine. her large fingers feel so much better than your own, and then that’s where she leaves you—fingers curling inside your cunt causing your brain to see stars. your orgasm hits you hard, but not as hard as she does—a rough slap to your face intensifies every sensation, leaving you pained like putty in her grasp as you come down from your high. “don’t got much to say now, huh?”

your eyes focus on her hair and how it twirls up on both sides—the classic hairstyle for any and all wolverine’s across the multiverse. “why do~you style~your hair like that?” your voice slurs with dizzy haze, and laura only looks down at your drunken state quizzically. “were ya going f’ wolf? ‘cause it makes ya look more like a cat. like my little meow meow~”

a growl creeps from the back of her throat before three claws find a home—digging into the flesh on your shoulder.

“shit! you angry ‘bout it, mama?” you ask teasingly before watching her slowly remove her belt. “no- not the belt! i won’t be a naughty girl, i swear!”

“don’t be dramatic,” she scoffs as she tosses the belt aside and straddles you again.

“that’s kinda my job. hashtag drama queen. hashtag full-time. ‘round the clock. just like how your full time job is hiding a fully comic accurate superhero suit under your clothes for when its use comes once every twenty fucking years.”

that switched something in her. she yanks your mask off your head and glares down into your eyes. then a smirk sneaks its way onto her lips. fuck. what does she know that you don’t?

“you think this suit is the only thing i keep under my clothes?” your jaw tenses when laura unzips her pants and allows her strap to spring out to your view. it has to be at least eight to nine inches, the color matches her skin tone and the base of it connects to the black harness buckled around her boxers.

“marvel jesus h. christ! where did you even get that thing? the prop table from the set of alien?!"

you half-expect an answer, but she only lifts your mask and forces a mouthful of the red fabric down your throat, leaving your fear-factored size question hanging in the air. “there… silence is nice. isn’t it?” you’ve lost your voice, but you don’t protest. your frustrated whimpers are muffled and shaky breaths escape through your nose as laura traces her dick up and down your wetted lips. “just relax, beautiful,” she whispers as she slips the tip into you. the tone of her voice is teasing, clearly loving how much power she so easily has over you. pushing in deeper, her pace stays agonizingly slow, as if she’s having to think about controlling every thrust. your eyes follow the grinding movements of her hips and your legs instinctively wrap around her waist. as laura starts to speed up, your backside rubs against the car seat. trying to find a sense of stability, your hands scatter up the butch’s clothed torso and eventually grip her broad shoulders. you can’t help but buck your hips again, no longer ashamed of how fucking needy you look doing so. one of her hands claw at the shoulder of the seat behind you while the other has a strong hold on your hip, guiding your body with hers. guiding soon turns to holding and holding soon turns to pinning. not only is she now chasing her high, but she will do whatever she needs to get to it.

“agh~ fuck. is this what you wanted? to be wrapped around me like this? you’re so pathetic, it’s adorable.”

when all you can do is moan in reply, laura knows she’s fucked you stupid, but still long ways away from being done with you. she suddenly stops altogether and pulls out of you, chuckling quietly when you groan due to your pleasure being delayed. she turns you over and props you up on your knees, then holds you down by the back of the neck with one hand and finds a firm grip on your ass with the other. her relentless thrusts continue, causing a repetitive sound of her hips slamming into the backs of your thighs. every time she pulls back, you follow her dick—leaning to her to chase that friction.

she hits nerve after nerve. the pain hurts too fucking good. your words are still muffled against your ladypool mask, the fabric now damp with saliva and drool. maybe tears as well.

“speak up, princess. ‘s hard to hear you,” laura instructs as she removes the piece from your mouth.

“i… i’m… gonna-” you start before trailing off, finding it hard to focus on words as laura speeds up her pace.

“what, pretty thing? y’ gonna cum?”

“tha-that’s what she said!” of course. of-fucking-course those are the words you can get to leave your stuttering mouth.

“god—do you ever shut the fuck up?” laura groans before tossing your mask to the side and holding your hips steady. when she notices your silence, she leans forward, a hand massaging your tit and her teeth taking a harsh bite at your earlobe. “or maybe you just need to be fucked speechless, don’t you?”

yes. a million times yes.

quiet whimpers leave your lips, the smell of cigars and alcohol mixed with the stench of blood and sex is almost overwhelming. laura slows her pace again, taking her sweet time watching, playing, torturing you for pleasure. that sadistic fuck.

“i do love these cute little noises you’re making, yeh? tell me how good it feels. i know it feels good but i wanna hear you say it—come on. spit it out,” she says into your ear. her lips have gone dry from breathing heavily and sweat trickles down her forehead and nose. the torn fabric of her yellow and navy blue suit rug-burns against your skin from all the excessive movement, but you don’t care. laura pulls your arms behind your back before yanking a seat belt out of its buckles to wrap tightly around your wrists. the rough material hurts, but it’s a good-hurt. when you only let out a porn-styled moan (half-exaggerating to poke fun at her), the wolverine behind you reaches under your neck and grabs your jaw. “you’ not gonna use that mouth?”

“fuck- okay! yes, it feels good. you feel so fucking good. just- please, let me- let me cum!”

and your begs get so easily rewarded. laura must have a soft spot for you because her thrusts speed up again, and this time hit hard with no intention of stopping.

what has little wolvie turned you into, hm? you, ladypool, a beggar? breaking out of character many would argue, but maybe that’s her goal: finding what breaks you.

“not yet. shit- wait ‘til i say.”

the hilt of her strap hits her clit just right as she continues to drive herself into your pretty cunt. as minutes pass and breaths quicken, her metal claws unsheathe and dig themselves into the seat beneath you two. she’s close.

with clamped hands still tied behind your back, you sense that knot in your stomach growing. guttural sounds from the back of the throat slip from laura’s lips, filling your ears as she hits your g-spot again and again, pushing you so quickly towards your release for the second time.

“right there! plea- please, please! i’m… gonna-”

“go on, sweetheart. fucking cum~”

at her words, her command—you feel yourself tighten around her. and your moans must’ve been what did it for her because immediately after—husky groans are heard from behind your bare, trembling body. the heavy weight of a wolverine falls against you, breathing hard onto your skin as her sweat-coated face buries itself into the nape of your neck. a trail of little bite marks, enhanced by her small fangs, are left scattered across your shoulders and upper back.

her middle finger finds your clit again to draw little circles, bringing out pitiful whimpers and post-sex muscle spasms from your worn out body.

“ca- canada…”

your contorted face and senselessness brings her to hum—which is her version of a laugh in this dizzy state. she broke you. and it didn’t take very much, did it?

she turns your chin to look up at her, her face reflecting that drunken haze with the ghost of a smile across her lips. her focus falls to your parted mouth for a moment before finally connecting her lips with yours. the kiss is softer than you expect, as if her hunger’s satisfied, yet the warm taste of cigars and alcohol linger.

“y’ did good, sweetheart.”

just good? must she always be so condescending?

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

spent way too long on this lol comment/repost if you like it, loves !!

this is so gonna flop but idc i wrote it for me and bookie 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

taglist: @pr1ncessjo <3

[polarisjisung]

MAKEUP, MAKE OUT

synopsis: somewhere between testing eyeshadow palettes and mascara wands, renjun tests the prospect of loving you

wc: 1k

pairings: best friend!renjun × fem!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none (I hope)

notes: not proofread so there's bound to be some typos

As renjun finds you positioned between his legs, tapping a light brown shade of shimmer over his eyelids, he can't help but wonder how he'd explain the situation should anybody walk in.

How could he explain the fact that his best friend was quite literally seated on his bed straddling him, so close that from any other perspective you'd look at least half way into a heated makeout session, perhaps something more.

Your hot breath fanning his neck, and his own two eyes helplessly trailing over your soft features, he couldn't bring himself to look away. Each and every time he'd find his gaze falling upon your lips, a deep shade of pink. He wanted to kiss you, he realises.

Best friends didn't do that.

Renjun wonders why the thought even comes into mind or why today was the day, despite your countless other attempts at getting him to agree to let you do his makeup, that he'd said yes.

Though he doesn't have to search particularly far for the answer when you tell him to keep still for the nth time

"stay still jun, ugh, nana would've been a much more compliant client"

Renjun could barely stand the thought of you looking jaemin's way, let alone being half as close as you were with him right now, with those long lashes of na jaemin's, that girls would always fawn over, fluttering so prettily in front of you.

"nana huh" he scoffs, great, you're on a nickname basis now

"so moody" you roll your eyes, somehow still smiling down at the boy who wore a frown on his lips, "you're lucky you look pretty" you laugh.

Your laugh is loud, not in an obnoxious sort of way, but in an unapologetically you sort of way, that renjun loved to hear, knowing you opted for softer, quieter and nowhere near as genuine laughs in public. Some part of him glad that this was a laugh only reserved for him.

"you're saying I need makeup to look pretty?" renjun wonders if you can notice the pink creeping up across his face and spreading over his cheeks, hoping you'd think it was simply the blush you had applied a little earlier.

"of course not, I think you're the prettiest right when you wake up" you don't mean to let it slip, a small piece of information you would've liked to think he could have lived without knowing, softly patting the powder against his skin.

"well I think you're pretty all the time" his lips turn upwards slightly, his hands finding your waist "my pretty girl"

you barely seem to notice as he whispers under his breath, too focused on deciding which lips colour would suit him best, the slight crinkle of your brows no less than adorable

Like every best friend had, he'd thought of the possibility of more, with great consideration.

He'd thought about how walking around with your fingers intertwined rather than an arm lazily thrown over your shoulder might've felt, how introducing you as his girlfriend instead of a girl friend could make his heart leap out of his chest and perhaps most importantly how the thought of seeing you with someone else had him balling up his fists and grinding his own teeth against each other.

He knew he liked you, it hadn't been hard to admit to himself, but somehow it didn't seem so easy with you.

"renjun?" you call for the nth time, "which one do you think is better?" you alternate between the two tubes of liquid lipstick, "one or two?" but yet again, renjun seems to be in his own world, eyes glued onto you and yet somehow he's not listening to you at all.

"jun, you're staring" you wave an arm in front of him

he wonders where he'd given up trying to hide how he felt for you, a lazy smirk lining his lips,

"I am" this time, pulling you closer by the belt loops of your jeans, so your chest is flush against his "my pretty girl"

you hum, reaching for a soft brown lip liner

"what are we?" he asks before you can connect the pencil to his lips, shiny eyes causing your breath to catch in your throat

"best friends"

and for the first time ever, renjun finds himself absolutely loathing the confident tone of your voice. How after all these intimate moments, and far too many not so best friend like thoughts did you not see a thing

"have you ever thought about more?" you're scared to nod, but your head moves faster than you can let out the word no and suddenly it seems honesty is the best policy

"I don't think we've been just best friends for a while now" renjun smiles as the words fall from your lips, music to his ears

"then let me ask you again, what are we?"

"you know what we are jun" your voice is softer than before, an airiness to it that renjun finds himself basking in the warmth of.

"I want— no I need you to say it" his voice has reduced to whispers now, lips centimetres apart

"what if I showed you instead"

his thumb traced over you bottom lip, a soft "okay" muttered under his breath as his hands reached up to cup your face, your lips pressed against his in an instant.

he smiles against your lips, another kiss pressed to your lips before he forces himself back.

"you have no idea how much I've been waiting for this moment" he begins to pepper soft kisses across your face, finally leaning in again, this time taking your bottom lip between his teeth.

You wouldn't dare let him pull away, your breaths deep and rushed as you find your fingers tangled in his soft brown hair, strawberry lips perfectly locked with your own.

but when you do take a moment to breathe, your eyes land on a starry-eyed huang renjun staring up at you, looking like the prettiest mess you'd ever seen.

[captain-hawks]

Muahahahahahaha~ Let’s give our Iwa some attention; Iwaizumi and bathroom

familiar

hajime iwaizumi x f!reader

The timing has never quite been right for you and Iwaizumi—until a run-in with your ex at a wedding changes everything.

wc: 2.6k

c: 18+ only, best friends to lovers speed run, hurt/comfort, fingering, unprotected p in v, creampie, oral (f!receiving), cum eating, past infidelity (not iwa)

SPICY SLEEPOVER WEEKEND - PART V

“Tell me what you need.”

Your nostrils burn from the cloying, floral scent that hangs heavily in the air of the oversized bathroom as you sit atop the sink’s white marble countertop, head leaning back against the ornate mirror.

Iwaizumi squeezes your knee when you don’t respond, his callused fingers gently grasping the bare skin exposed by the slit in your dress—if only by consequence, rather than a conscious choice. 

“A time machine,” you mutter, voice thick as you blindly reach out for the box of tissues you spotted near the faucet when you walked in. 

A hand brushes against yours, followed by the soft press of the thin, white square against the hot, angry tears streaming down your cheeks. 

“That’s above my pay grade,” he grumbles, “but I can go punch him if you want.”

You choke out a watery laugh, your fingertips colliding as you take the tissue from him and dab at the corners of your eyes before crumbling it into a ball. 

In hindsight, you should have known your ex-fiancé would be at this wedding, given the unfortunate amount of mutual friends that the two of you share. But of all the brash moves, you certainly weren’t expecting him to walk in with the woman he cheated on you with. 

You don’t miss him, not really. Not since it became abundantly clear he’d been fucking his personal assistant for most of your relationship. Not since you realized everything you thought you knew about him was a lie. 

It’s embarrassment and anger that fuels the remaining tears still threatening to traipse their way down your cheeks now, tears that soak into the new tissue Iwaizumi’s already patiently holding below your eyelashes.

“To be fair, I always wanted to punch him,” Iwaizumi mutters under his breath. 

Embarrassment, anger—and regret for the long-buried feelings for your best friend that now stands before you, his brows furrowed in annoyance and concern in equal measure.

It’s always been there between the two of you, this heady, dizzy feeling—charged and humming like the atmosphere on the brink of a rolling thunderstorm.  

But the timing’s never been right. Not back then, when relationships and school and sports and jobs were endlessly in the way. And certainly not now, when you shouldn’t even be hidden away crying in this obnoxiously fancy bathroom with Iwaizumi in the first place—not while he’s dating one of the bridesmaids. 

He seems to know exactly what you’re thinking, too, because—

“You should probably go find���“

“—we broke up.”

You blink at him several times, caught off guard both by the admission and the unwavering way he’s staring at you now.

Well, you had thought it was odd that you didn’t see them interact at all leading up to the reception.

“Why?”

He inhales slowly before he responds, “She said I was too involved in what’s going on with you.”

A wave of guilt washes over you as you think about how he was the first person you told what happened—in the middle of the night when you got home early from a trip and found your side of the bed occupied.

The way he didn’t even ask before getting into his car and driving across town to pick you up.

The feeling of your fingers desperately clasping the sleeve of his sweatshirt on the sidewalk as you pleaded with him not to storm back into the apartment, the sight of his clenched fists.

The steady, reassuring warmth of his arms around your tired, shaking frame as he held you close against the passenger side door of his car when your trembling fingers couldn’t pull the handle. 

You spent that night in his bed, while he insisted on taking the couch. And in the weeks that followed, after you scrambled to find your own place, he hovered. He checked in on you frequently. He brought you food.

He—

It’s not like you can blame his girlfriend—

“So she—”

It’s obvious that Iwaizumi knows you well enough to anticipate your reaction, the way you begin to shrink in on yourself, because his voice is a little rough as he tilts your chin back up to look at him and says, “No, I told her that she could leave if she didn’t like it, because this isn’t going to change.”

Iwaizumi’s gaze has always been a heavy, tangible thing, but it’s particularly difficult to breathe under the weight of it now.

“What’s not going to change?” you ask quietly.

He leans in a little closer, standing between your legs, the inside of your thighs brushing against his hips. “The way I’m always going to put you first, whether I mean to or not.”

“Iwa—”

His eyes fall shut. “I hated when you started calling me that again.”

You’d started using his given name in high school, but the letters went quiet on your tongue in the years after, a forced wedge of distance.

A necessity.

It felt too familiar, more familiar than he should be to you, to your heart.

You didn’t realize how much it bothered him.

“Hajime,” you correct yourself.

A nearly imperceptible shudder runs through him, and when he opens his eyes, they’re filled with an emotion you can’t quite define, not under the duress of your rapidly beating heart.

“Tell me what you need,” he repeats, slowly and deliberately.

You.

It’s always been you.

Your fingers shake slightly as you reach out to grasp his tie, the silk smooth against your palm as you pull him closer.

“Hajime,” you whisper again, so quiet the syllables barely make a sound as they slide over your lips.

His forehead presses against yours, your noses brushing as he rasps, “You know I’d give you anything.”

A hot, heady rush floods your veins, and you press the heels of your feet back into the cabinet of the sink, if only to ground yourself as the honesty in his words scrapes against your ribcage. Releasing his tie, you carefully let your fingers linger against the side of his neck. There’s a sharp inhale of breath as your thumb makes contact with the hinge of his jaw, though Hajime’s own hands remain planted on the countertop.

The sound of your own given name is like a whispered kiss into the space that lingers between your mouths. “Tell me what you want from me.”

Hajime smells like mint gum and that same goddamn body wash he’s been using since high school.

Your heart stumbles as you breathe him in.

“More than you can give,” you admit, voice wavering under the raw honesty of your words.

He laughs, and it’s a low sound of amusement that rumbles in his chest. “I doubt that.”

Heat and anticipation and disbelief swell rapidly in your chest, and it’s enough to find the courage to finally quell the traitorous, steady itch in your fingertips—which seem to be moving of their own volition as they card through Hajime’s soft, dark, messy hair. 

He sighs, and it spurs you on further, letting your hand drop to the back of his head to tug at the shorter hair at the nape of his neck. This earns you a groan that dances haphazardly down the notches of your spine. 

“Show me what you want, Hajime,” you tell him, swallowing thickly.

It feels disarmingly natural, the way his hands come up to cup your face, the stroke of his thumbs against the curve of your jaw. 

He’s so fucking handsome, it hurts. 

Turning your face to the side, you press a kiss to the tip of his thumb. “Please.”

Despite all the times you’ve imagined this, all the late nights spent staring at your bedroom ceiling, all of the hopeless scenarios you’ve kept tucked way like a well-worn note tattered to the bone at every groove—every little thing your mind has conjured up pales in comparison to the way Hajime’s lips finally come crashing into yours.

With one hand cupping the back of your head and the other sliding down to curl around your hip, Hajime kisses you like he’s wanted this just as badly as you always have. Like he knows every dip and curve along the shape of your lips.

Like he wants to swallow every last molecule that separates your mouth from his.

It’s all-consuming, the damp heat of his lips, the steady pressure of his thumb against your hip bone, the satisfied groan he lets out as you wrap your legs around his waist and pull yourself against him. 

His tongue skirts along the seam of your lips, slipping into your mouth as they part to deepen the kiss, and all of the want and need you’ve kept bottled up inside of you spills out into something hot and messy that scorches its way through your abdomen. 

Logically, some part of you knows you should probably talk about this somewhere, anywhere but this ornately fancy single-occupant bathroom during a wedding reception. 

But it’s difficult to pin down a single morsel of logic when the sole, unspoken object of your deepest desires is currently wrapping his tongue around yours as the large palm of his hand blazes hot where it’s pressing into the small of your back, the pressure of his fingertips burning through the fabric of your dress.

It’s an accident—the way you rock forward into Hajime when he takes your bottom lip between his teeth, the breathy little moan that punches out of you at the feeling of his erection pressing into your hot core. 

But it’s not an accident when you do it again, purposefully grinding against him, the arousal simmering inside of you cracking open wide as he kisses you harder, groaning into your mouth. One of his hands makes its way up your side, caressing the swell of your breasts that’s been threatening to spill out of the top of your dress since you slipped it on earlier.

“You have no idea how distracting your dress is,” he growls, though there’s no real heat in the sound, only a desperation that curls around the edges of each word as he tugs the material down enough to expose one of your peaked nipples.

You have half a mind to complain when his lips part from yours, a trail of spit hanging between your mouths for a moment, but it’s a moot point when he leans down to swipe his tongue across the pert, sensitive bud.

“Fuck, Hajime,” you whine, fingers digging into his hair as he gently sucks, shameless in the way you rearrange the skirt of your dress to let the cotton of your panties press directly against the black fabric of his pants. 

But it’s still not enough to quell the fire in your veins.

“Hajime,” you whimper again, the sound almost embarrassingly needy as you hump the outline of his hard cock.

Hands grasp your hips, the air conditioning in the room cool against your spit-soaked nipple as he abandons it to press his lips to yours while he hooks his fingers in the waistband of your panties.

“I need you to tell me what you want,” he murmurs against your mouth. “This stops where you say it stops.”

Fingers trailing along the back of his neck, you run your tongue along his bottom lip, too drunk on your desire to feel shy about the words that push their way past your teeth. “I want to feel you inside of me.”

He lets out a rough groan, taking your tongue into his mouth and sucking on it. Gently, he trails one finger down the length of your damp panties. “Like this?”

You shake your head, reaching a hand between your bodies to clasp his shaft, a fresh stroke of arousal unfurling inside of you at the size of it.

Hajime lets out a gravelly, disbelieving sound. “I don’t have a—”

All it takes is an exchange of breathless, needy reassurances about contraceptives and clean tests to find your panties stuffed in his pocket, the buckle of his belt clinking as he frees his cock from the confines of his pants.

He drags his fingers through your slick, dripping folds as you wrap a hand around his cock, stroking him and keening softly, muscles taut with anticipation as he groans over how wet you are.

“And so fucking sensitive,” he mutters when you tremble and moan in pleasure as he slips a single finger into your cunt, his thumb swiping across your throbbing clit.

He hardly fares any better though when you spit into your palm and resume pumping his curved, leaking shaft, his hips jerking forward into the edges of the countertop. 

Hajime must feel how tight you are, must know what a stretch it’ll be to plunge inside of you, because he’s deliberate in the way he adds a second finger, and then a third, working your quivering, wet hole open until you’re panting and whining into his mouth begging for it.

Everything inside of your flares white-hot when he finally sinks his cock into the dripping warmth of your cunt, his lips against yours the only barrier to stifle the full volume of the wanton moan that spills from your mouth as you dig your fingers into his shoulderblades and rock forward until he’s balls deep inside of you. The tight walls of your pussy expand and contract against the thick stretch of his shaft, your legs trembling with pleasure. 

You want to writhe on his length.

You want to feel the stretch of it everywhere.

You want him to fuck you so deep you feel it for days.

You want to come so hard on his cock you can’t move or breathe.

It’s inescapable—the full depth of this yawning pit of desire, years of dreams that have left you restless and aching for the one thing you can’t have.

Couldn’t have.

But now—

It takes your fucking breath away, the dichotomy of this moment. The way Hajime’s fucking you so hard, the counter groans with each pounding thrust into your wet cunt. The way he’s tenderly cupping the side of your face and looking at you like he’d give you the goddamn world if you asked for it. 

(Having him would be enough.)

You’re so caught up in the moment, heart thrumming in your chest with too many emotions to grasp, you’re hardly prepared when the coil of tension in your gut unravels with the force of a whip, a shockwave of pleasure coursing through you as you go tumbling over the edge of your climax. 

“That’s it,” Hajime murmurs as he fucks you through it, fucks you through the messy, desperate kisses you slot against his mouth as you moan and whimper.

You can hardly think straight as your orgasm tapers off, your cunt still greedily taking in every inch of Hajime’s cock as he continues to thrust into you, but when his hips begin to stutter, the words leave you in a rush, “Come inside of me.”

Hajime’s thumb presses into the underside of your chin as he breathes heavily against your mouth, muscles tensing.

“Fuck,” he groans, burying himself to the hilt as his pleasure reaches its peak, his cock pulsing inside of you as ropes of thick, hot cum spill deep in your cunt.

It takes a few minutes for either of you to find the wherewithal to talk, the room quiet save for the sounds of your labored breathing and the soft kisses he presses to the corner of your mouth. To the curve of your jaw. To the bridge of your nose.

Fingers toying with his tie again as he tucks himself back into his pants, you watch as he pointedly does not give you back your underwear, instead pushing the flash of material further down into his pocket.

“Don’t I need tho…” you begin to ask, but you trail off as Hajime leans down and spreads your thighs even further apart before bringing his mouth to your cunt and lapping a broad stroke through the pool of cum leaking from your folds.

[coff33andb00ks]

Osc + 1!!

1: tiny hands in big hands <we love a size difference>

requests closed until I catch up <3

You don't like loud music. You hate people being close to you. You suck at dancing, unless it's in your kitchen. And you like alcohol but you don't like losing control of yourself so you only drink enough to relax. Flashing lights give you a headache, and dim corners give you anxiety.

But here you are, drink in hand, music pounding in your ears and lights flashing obnoxiously around you. There's a group of men that you've never seen before here, and their added yells and revelry are adding to your brewing headache.

"Let's go celebrate your promotion!"

When you see her again, you're so killing your best friend. This was celebrating? You'd be so much happier with some good pasta and a binge watch of of your favorite tv show. Maybe a mani pedi. Something relaxing and enjoyable not...

Whatever the hell this is supposed to be.

You sigh and wish you were at home, eyes scanning to find your friends. They went to dance three songs ago. You think they'll be easy to spot, but--

"HOLY SHIT!"

You stumble backwards to avoid being crashed into by one of the men partying hard. He's laughing, almost cackling, and you wince as your drink splashes over your front, staining your light pink top because of course you'd ordered a rum and Coke. The guy laughs, catching himself before slamming into you, and he looks at your empty glass.

"Sorry!" You can barely hear him above the music and he can tell, motioning wildly in a drunken pantomime that isn't too hard to decipher.

C'mon I'll buy you another.

Why not, you decide, nodding. He grins and grabs your forearm, practically dragging you with him towards the VIP section, and you think you see your friends' shocked faces when you're pulled past a group.

The music isn't quite as loud here and you wave off his apologies, taking the napkins he shoves at you to sop up the mess of your top.

"I'm Lando," he tells you, sniffing your empty glass then walking off.

"So pleased to meet you," you mutter under your breath, nose wrinkling as you try to inconspicuously fish the thin straw out of your bra.

"You alright?"

Seriously what is with all the accents? You yank the straw out, squeaking when it slips from your fingers and hits the guy's cheek. He makes a face, cheeks tinging pink.

"I'm fine," you promise. "Sorry, it was - Lando? He bumped into me and, well."

"Sounds like him." The man in front of you smiles ruefully, and as he watches you it fades. "You're not one for clubs are you?"

His accent is so nice. You shake your head, looking around for some place to put the napkins. He takes them from you and shoves them onto a table, then blushes again.

The next thing you know he's taken a jacket off the sofa and is draping it around your shoulders. "Um, your top is kinda..." His cheeks darken even more and he rubs the back of his neck. "See through?"

You almost giggle, finding his embarrassment more than a little endearing. "Thank you." You slip your arms into the sleeves and pull it closed. "Really, thank you. I don't want to flash a bunch of strange men."

"So women would be alright?" he asks with a grin and you do giggle this time, accepting his offer to have a seat.

His name is Oscar and you're so glad he's not a grouch. The only sport of any kind you've ever been interested in was little league softball and you'd been horrible at it, so when the brown eyed man from Australia says he's a race car driver you nod. Lando comes back with a drink for you and it's not a rum and coke but you drink it, enjoying the conversation you're having with Oscar. And when your friends start texting you you sigh, almost sad to go.

"My friends," you say, texting them that you'll meet them at the front of the club. You start to take off the jacket, surprised when he reaches to close it. The spill is dried now, your top sticking to your skin.

"Nah, keep it. Don't want you flashing a bunch of men." He smiles softly and stands, holding out his hands to you.

You don't need his help to stand but you slide your hands into his. They're large, swallowing yours, and you think you may have had a little too much to drink because the difference in size makes you feel fuzzy. He pulls you to your feet, hands still holding yours as you stare up at him. "Thanks," you tell him. And, emboldened by the small amount of alcohol, you lick your lips and lean up on your tiptoes, pressing a kiss to his cheek. You feel his little breath of surprise and his hands gently squeeze yours as you pull back.

"Can - Christ," he groans when his voice lifts an octave in the middle of the word. His cheeks are red and your phone is buzzing with an incoming call. You ignore it, wiggling your fingers against his. "Can I walk you out? And maybe get your number?"

Later, after you're home and showered and have exchanged several texts with Oscar, you think that maybe you like clubs after all.

[waterfae]

A Good Pillow [Part 2]

Summary: A glimpse of your budding friendship with Ominis and your growing feelings after the events in the Scriptorium.

Pairings: Ominis Gaunt x Reader, Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Warnings: canon-typical violence, mild language, angst, comfort, fluff, friends-to-lovers, unhinged Slytherins, complicated relationships, house-neutral reader, no use of Y/N, no beta

Word Count: 1.3+ K

Part: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11

|| General Masterlist || Hogwarts Legacy Masterlist ||

“I’ve noticed that you’ve been spending a lot more time with Ominis Gaunt these days.” You turned your attention towards Natty after she made the remark and said nothing in response. There was no need for one; her statement was an undeniable truth. As the school year progressed, you indeed had been spending an increasing amount of time with Ominis – much to the concern of some, which was baffling; you had yet to meet a finer gentleman!

“Ominis Gaunt?” Poppy chimed, suddenly appearing and occupying the empty seat beside you, “Hello girls.” She added quickly with nods to the both of you, “Are we talking about Ominis? Do you know him?”

You smiled brightly at the Huffplepuff in greeting and took a swig of butterbeer before bringing the glass back down onto the table with a light thud, licking away the foam from your lips that the drink had left behind.

“You could say that.” You answered with a slight warmth rising to your cheeks at the thought of him, “He really is quite kind and a very good, dependable friend once you get to know him better.”

“You should have invited him then!” Poppy piped as her own glass of butterbeer arrived and was placed in front of her. You smiled, glad to know there was someone within your growing group of friends that was open to having Ominis around. Natty, however, continued to look warily.

“I’d still be cautious if I were you.” Her voice lowered to a whisper and she bent forward towards the center of the table so only the three of you could hear, “I heard he’s interested in dark magic.”

You let out a snort and straightened yourself back up in your seat before taking another sip of your drink. Poppy did the same, tutting and waving her finger, “I’m disappointed in you, Natty. Why would you entertain such gossip?”

“Amit and Everett were talking about it just the other day!” Natty explained, “Many others say it too. He is a descendant of Salazar Slytherin after all.” She turned to you and added, “You might have fared better sticking with Sebastian. He may be a bit of a troublemaker at times, but you don’t hear anything about him getting mixed up with the dark arts.”

No longer able to hold back after her last few words, you let out an obnoxiously loud laugh as the two other girls looked on questioningly.

Oh, if she only knew.

The remainder of the Hogsmeade trip was spent arm-in-arm with your two friends; happily strolling along the cobblestone streets, appreciating your time out of the castle, listening to a street musician, and hopping from Zonko’s to Honeydukes whilst sampling treats and chatting with other familiar faces that you happened to encounter. By the time you stepped back onto the grounds, the sun had already set, the temperature had grown more chilly, and some of the students were slowly inching their way back towards the castle. You spotted a familiar figure sitting upon one of the benches near the entrance and – once you were near enough – gently pulled away from your companions with a cordial goodnight and jogged over to the young man.

“Ominis.” You took the seat beside him, wrapping your cloak tighter around yourself as you did so, “What are you still doing out here by yourself? It’s cold.”

He turned to the direction of your voice with a smile, “Waiting for you.”

“Oh, Ominis.” You felt your cheeks grow warm for the second time that day, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I am well aware of that; I simply wanted to.” He scooted closer as you pushed a small package into his hands, “What’s this?”

“Sugar quills.” You replied beaming, “Thought I’d replenish your supply since I ate the last one when you helped me with my essay the other day.”

Ominis’s smile widened as he pocketed the gift into his robes and recalled that particular session in the library.

“Try this one.” Ominis returned to his seat bedside you and placed a book down on the table.

You were absentmindedly sucking on the sugar quill he had offered earlier, your chin supported by your free hand and eyes drowsily fixed upon a random portrait. A sigh escaped from your lips when you felt him push the book towards you.

“I am sick of this Potions essay. My brain feels like mush!”

He chuckled, “Come now. You’ve almost completed it.”

You pouted, opening the book that had been placed before you to a random page. Ominis pulled his chair closer, brushing against you in the process, and flipped through the pages using his wand, mumbling about how he had noticed something previously that might be useful. You left him to his task, grateful for the assistance, but exhausted having spent the last few days researching and attempting to complete the accursed essay.

Ominis continued to urge you on, stating that you only had a few more inches of parchment to go and that today was going to be the day you finished. He would make sure of it. And so he eagerly poured over the texts of the book he had picked out for you while you moved onto another set that you had been combing through earlier.

It did not take long for your eyelids to fall closed. Despite the hands you had placed at your chin for support – sugar quill long forgotten – your head had already been sleepily bobbing up and down before you even began to read.

Ominis could feel the movement beside him; your body slowly swaying where you sat, bumping your shoulder into his repeatedly. This tore his attention away from the book and back onto you. Quickly, he dropped his wand, anticipating the next motion as your head finally slipped from your hands. He reached out with his own, catching you before your head could land harshly against the wooden table.

He let out a sigh, relieved that he had been able to catch you in time and equally surprised that none of it had woken you up.

“You really must be tired then.” He whispered, thumb gently caressing the side of your cheek that had fallen into his hand.

Instead of waking you, he gently adjusted himself and guided your head towards his shoulder; allowing you to continue with your sleep while he quietly recited notes and page numbers for his enchanted quill to jot down.

A gust of chill air quickly shook Ominis out of his reverie and he felt you shiver beside him.

“We should get you inside.” He stood up and offered you a hand, his other brandishing his wand.

You accepted it and allowed him to lead you towards the castle, “Probably for the best.”

“Shall I walk with you to your common room?” He asked as the pair of you walked through the doors.

You smiled brightly, happy to take any chance you could to spend more time with him, “That would be lovely.”

He gave your hand a quick squeeze and began your trip through the various corridors and stairs. As you made your way, you chatted about your afternoon: he asked how your Hogsmeade trip went, you in turn asked what he had done opting to stay within the castle, he spoke of Sebastian's latest musings, you told him of Garreth’s antics that nearly got him kicked out of Honeydukes. The number of students you passed dwindled and the halls grew quiet as you neared your house.

“Here we are.” He released your hand upon reaching the entrance, turned towards you and softly said, “Good night.”

A pause.

You stared at him for a moment.

“Good night.”

Another pause.

He seemed to linger.

“Sleep well.”

You blushed.

“Perhaps if I can find a good enough pillow.”

He scoffed.

“Good luck with that.”

You shuffled your feet.

He shoved his hands into his pockets.

Another moment of silence passed.

“I’ll see you in class tomorrow, Ominis.” You said, breaking through the quiet, and quickly turned on your heel to disappear into your common room – heat rising to your face.

“Right.” He slumped as he sensed you go, “Tomorrow.”

Dissatisfied with the clumsy conclusion to the evening, he mentally kicked himself as he walked off to return to his own common room.

a/n: I initially intended for this to only be a one-shot, but these two wouldn't leave me alone! So here we are. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always greatly appreciated and my askbox is always open. ♡ 

After all this time - while reformatting and cross-posting this fic to tumblr - I just realized that even though I did say reader is house-neutral, the way things are written makes it clear that she is not in Slytherin. I apologize! I hope you are able to look past this transgression.

[sunghoons-mole]

Can I Call You Mine? (Part 1)

GENRE // best friend!Hee x afab!reader (she/her pronouns)

WARNINGS // heeseung is kind of a WHORE, mentions of alcohol and being drunk (all characters are attending uni and of legal drinking age) a bit of fluff, angst, let me know if i missed anything.

FROM THE AUTHOR // just writing a fluffy, sexy, basic friends to lovers fic because i'm back in my feels lately.. it's kinda cliche but cliches are nice once in a while. ft the other enha members as various characters. NO SMUT IN PART 1 but there may be in part 2 ;) VERY LIKELY

THIS IS ONLY PART 1, because i realized while writing it that it was going to go way longer than i originally planned. enjoy :)

PART 2

The obnoxious giggle of some girl drags you out of your daydream, quickly bringing your attention back to reality. You look to your left to find the source of the noise, and you aren't surprised. Turns out, it's not just some girl's giggle -- but the annoying sound of an empty-headed girl with zero personality and basically no brain. 

And even worse -- Heeseung, your best friend of ten years, is draping an arm around her shoulder, chuckling along with her brainless attempt at flirting. 

Wow.

"Quit staring." 

You shake your head and look over at Jungwon and Sunoo, who are both approaching where you stand, in the hallway of your lecture hall.

"I feel like I'm back in high school right now." You readjust the strap of your bag on your shoulder. "Here I am, standing in a hallway, watching Hee try to win over some girl with less brains than a loaf of bread."

Sunoo snorts, and Jungwon rolls his eyes. 

"You should have picked a different college." Jungwon grimaces in Heeseung's direction, then reaches into his bag for a snack. As if it were that easy.

"Listen. I wanted to come here first! I didn't plan on him following in my footsteps." You check the time on your phone. "Are you guys going to Jay's party tonight?"

"A frat party? No fucking thank you." Sunoo waves you off with his hand, scowling. "It always stinks in those houses..."

You look at him sympathetically. Jungwon tries not to spit any of his granola bar out as he laughs, then looks at you. "Are you going with Heeseung? You guys are kind of like Spongebob and Patrick."

You immediately frown at this comparison. "Is that how people see us?"

Sunoo shrugs, then blows a kiss in your direction before walking towards the campus doors. Jungwon sighs. 

"I didn't mean it like... that." He says slowly. "Maybe Spongebob and Patrick were secretly in love!"

You groan and slap your hand against your forehead. "Stop it, Won." You shoot one last look in Heeseung's direction, but the girl is standing by the door, alone. As if she's waiting for someone. 

"I don't even know if Heeseung is going. So we probably won't go together."

"Of course Heeseung is going. He wouldn't miss a frat party." Jungwon wads up his empty granola bar wrapper and tosses it at a nearby trashcan, making it in. 

"Well, he didn’t mention the party to me, so I’m not going with him.” You fiddle with your thumbs for a second. You glance up again, and the girl is gone. 

“I'm going to try to hook up with someone." You suddenly blurt, desperate to give up on your hopeless crush. You avoid Jungwon's eyes, focusing on a pair of guys rounding the corner. 

"What? Who?" Jungwon's eyes widen, following your stare. "Sunghoon??"

You realize too late that the pair of guys you're unintentionally ogling is Jay and Sunghoon -- and your eyes were right on Hoon. He shoots you a grin and winks, and continues walking. Jay doesn't even glance in your direction, which isn't unusual.

"Wh- Sunghoon? Pfft." You try to play it off, but Jungwon definitely noticed the wink. And he can definitely see your cheeks getting pink, too. 

"Let me know what happens." He wiggles his eyebrows.

You turn and walk out the door, throwing a playful middle finger over your shoulder. "Bye, Wonnie!" 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Ding!

You reach for your phone on the vanity, setting a makeup brush aside. Before you can even unlock it, the damn thing dings twice more. 

All three messages are from Heeseung. 

Hey

You coming?

OPEN UP

You begin to type a response, but something hits your window with a light ping.

Heeseung has never been a stranger to climbing in your window when you two were younger. Now that you were living in an on-campus apartment, you didn't expect him to try anything like that. 

But…was he throwing rocks??

You open your window and look down to see Heeseung, standing below your second floor window. He's wearing a white t-shirt, loose jeans, and his dark hair is pushed back to expose his forehead - and those big, warm brown eyes.

"What is this, Lee? Rocks at my window? Really?" You shout down at him, earning his rare Heeseung smile. The one he usually hid unless he was around you. He was seriously beaming up at you, and your chest began to tighten.

"You're coming to Jay's party."

"Yes, but.. what are y- ugh. Hold on."

You close the window and hurry your makeup, then slip on your shoes and head out the door. Heeseung, of course, is waiting outside when you exit your building, wearing a shit-eating grin. 

"What are you doing here?" you look at him, watching a few strands of hair fall over his forehead and sway in the slight evening breeze. 

"I am walking you to the party.” He says, as if this were an obvious fact. “Were you going without me?"

You're stunned for a moment, and then confused. "When did you ever talk to me about this party? I didn't know you wanted to go, let alone with me."

Now Heeseung looks confused. "I mean, you're my best friend. We do most things together." He begins to walk across campus to Jay's frat house. 

You start to follow, noticing how the sidewalk lamps are turning on and the sun is setting. Fall has begun, and the chill in the air sends a shiver down your spine. 

"I wish I brought a jacket." Heeseung says, putting his hands in his pockets as you fall into step beside him. 

"Aww, are you cold?" You tease, shoving his shoulder. But he shakes his head and looks over at you for a split second. 

"No, but you are."

He always seems to know you better than you know yourself. Your heart skips, but you ignore it. "Who was that girl you were chatting up earlier? Anyone important?"

Heeseung chuckles as you both approach Jay’s frat house, and stops at the bottom of the steps. "No. Not important." He bites his lip, letting his eyes travel down to yours, but only for a split second -- so quick that you almost miss it. "Don't know what I was thinking."

You open your mouth to respond when Sunghoon opens the front door, smiling down at you both. "Hey! Heeseung. You finally made it." 

You were trying to decide what he meant by "finally", considering it was only about seven thirty when he came down the porch steps and stopped in front of you, blocking your view of Heeseung. "Y/N. I’m so happy you’re here." He lifts your hand and places a polite kiss on the back of your fingers. "You look lovely."

You smile nervously, not expecting him to greet you this way. You had only spoken to him a handful of times. He was gorgeous, and you didn't trust yourself to speak to him any more than that. Surely, you'd stutter and make a fool of yourself. Kind of like you were now. 

"I, um... you... thank you. Thanks, Hoon." Your eyes widen in shock. "Oh god. I'm sorry. Am I.. allowed to call you that?"

Sunghoon chuckles sweetly and beams at you once more. "Of course you can. You can call me Sunghoon, or Hoon... or you can call me later." He winks, and you temporarily forget that Heeseung is there too, currently clenching and unclenching his fists.

Heeseung isn't entirely sure what emotion he is feeling at this moment -- but he is sure that he doesn't like feeling it. At all. And he’s going to barf at Sunghoon’s corny line.

"I'm gonna grab a drink. See you around, Y/N." Heeseung starts up the stairs and enters the house, allowing a few seconds of noise from the party to travel outside. 

"Can I get you a drink, Y/N?" Sunghoon holds his arm out, and you hesitantly place your hand on his bicep, allowing him to walk you up the stairs and into the party. 

Inside is full of other students, and it’s a bit stuffy. Now that it’s fall, it gets dark earlier, so the room is somewhat dim with only a few cheap lamps to light the place. The kitchen counter is occupied by various bottles of alcohol, plastic cups and a few nearly empty bowls of chips. Sunghoon leads you into the kitchen and gestures to the counter. 

“I can make you anything you like. I’m pretty good at mixing drinks.” He gives an adorably proud smile. 

To your right, in the living room, Heeseung sits on the armrest of a couch, trying to pretend he isn’t keeping an eye on you and Sunghoon. He sips from his cup every minute or so, wanting to stay sober in case you need him. He’s normally the one who gets crazy at these things, waiting for you to guide him home at the end of the night - provided he doesn’t meet anyone else. 

But right now, he can’t think about meeting other women. He isn’t seeing the people around him, or the various girls from past parties who call his name and come up to him for a hug. He is polite, but he misses you. He can’t help but notice that the roles are usually reversed when you both attend a party. He isn’t used to you being whisked away by someone. Is this how you feel when he leaves?

He watches you and Sunghoon make your way to the stairs on the other side of the room, and he feels his heart drop, only for relief to sweep over him a moment later when the two of you simply take a seat on some of the lower steps. 

Why is he feeling this way all of a sudden? He knows, he really does. He just… would rather not admit it. 

When his drink is gone, and he’s suffered through small talk with about a dozen people, he stands from the couch’s armrest, making his way through the people and into the kitchen for another. 

As he pours, he hears footsteps, so light that he almost misses them. He turns his head to see a short woman staring up at him. She’s quite pretty, and Heeseung is caught off guard by how she’s looking at him expectantly. 

“Hey,” he says, turning around fully to face her. He takes a sip of his freshly poured drink. 

“Hi,” she says, smiling. “Wanna take me home?”

Heeseung nearly chokes on his drink. What the hell?

Once he composes himself, he stares at her, unblinking. “You’re quite forward, aren’t you?” he asks, although it comes out as more of a statement rather than a question. 

“I prefer to get to the point. No time to waste.” Her statement would make the whole thing feel like a business arrangement, if not for the cute smile plastered on her face. Heeseung considers her for a moment. 

If you’re off with Sunghoon… no good can come from that, right? Heeseung has seen how charming Sunghoon is, especially with the ladies. He’d have you going home with him in no time, wouldn’t he? He sighs to himself, deciding in the moment that this party will have to end the same way they always do - with Heeseung failing to confess to you, and taking some girl home trying to forget about it. 

“Alright, yeah,” He responds, smirking at the girl. “Shall we?” 

She smirks back, and Heeseung extends his arm. She holds his bicep and they make their way out of the kitchen. 

Just as they are exiting, you and Sunghoon enter the kitchen, looking to refill your drinks. You catch sight of Heeseung and the girl on his arm, but shake it off quickly as you let Sunghoon refill your drink. 

Jake enters the kitchen too, stumbling a bit. He is clearly drunk, or at least on the way. He gives you and Sunghoon a goofy smile. “Ayeee, what’s up Hoon? Y/N, looking well.” He catches himself on the counter. “Hoon, pour me one of those, will ya?” He runs his hand through his fluffy, disheveled hair. 

Sunghoon smiles and shakes his head at you, as if to say, this guy. “I think you’ve had enough, yeah man?” He claps jake on the shoulder. 

“Psh. Naw. Hey, Y/N,” he says, suddenly uninterested in a drink. “I just saw your guy leaving with a short girl!”

Your heart drops at the reminder. You look at Sunghoon, afraid he might be confused. “My guy? I don’t… have a guy.” You chuckle, hoping he will just get distracted again and talk about something else. 

“Of course you do,” Sunghoon says, surprising you. 

“What?” You look between the two of them. Sunghoon is sipping his drink, his eyes locked with yours over the rim of his cup. Jake is grinning from ear to ear, clearly enjoying this. 

Sunghoon swallows and lowers the cup. “Oh please, Y/N. Look, you’re really attractive, and I wasn’t faking with the flirting earlier,” he says, the corner of his mouth curling upward, revealing one of those pointy canines. “But I mostly did it in hopes that Heeseung would be jealous enough to get his head out of his ass and admit that he doesn’t want anyone else to have you.”

Just then, Jake’s eyes widen, and he rushes out of the kitchen. 

Sunghoon ignores him, instead staring directly at you. “Unfortunately, even that didn’t do the trick. I’m afraid it might be up to you to get him to confess.”

Your head starts to spin with all of this unexpected information. “Confess what?”

“That he’s in love with you, Y/N.”

~~~~~

“So, do you live on campus?” The girl asks sweetly. 

Heeseung steps down from the stairs leading up to the house, and she follows. “Yeah, my apartment is a few blocks from here.”

“So… you walked here?” She asks, shivering and wrapping her arms around herself. It dawns on Heeseung then - she’s wearing a strapless dress. And all he’s wearing is a t-shirt. Shit.

“Yeah, I’m sorry-” he frantically looks around, as if something outside would do their current predicament any good. She shivers beside him.

The front door opens, and someone stumbles down the stairs. “Heeseung! Wait up!”

Both Heeseung and the girl turn to the source of the shout - Jake, who is completely ignoring the sidewalk and running through the grass toward them. 

“Jake, man. Are you alright?” Heeseung asks, meeting Jake halfway and grabbing his shoulders to steady him. 

“I’m good.” He burps once, then looks around. “What are you doing, man? Where’s Y/N?” 

Heeseung swears under his breath. He glances over his shoulder at the girl, who is shivering and starting to look impatient. 

“She’s inside, Jake. Which is where you should be.” He tries to keep his voice down.

Jake clearly doesn’t catch the hint, yelling his response. “You can’t leave without her, Hee!” He pokes Heeseung’s chest. “Especially because you lo-”

Heeseung clamps a hand over Jake’s mouth, pushing him backwards toward the house. “It’s complicated. Just, go back inside.”

The girl huffs and rolls her eyes, rubbing her arms up and down. Jake notices this, and quickly removes his jacket, running over to her and draping it around her shoulders. She watches, trying to hide her giggle as he drunkenly jogs back over to Heeseung, a smile on his face. “Oh man. Jogging is hard after a drink.” Heeseung chuckles to himself, knowing Jake has had more than just “a” drink. 

Jake’s facial expression turns serious. “Oh man, Hee. You can’t do this.” He wobbles a bit, but steadies himself. “I’m one of the boys, but this…” He shakes his head. “I think you’d hate yourself for this one, buddy.” 

Heeseung sighs, knowing Jake is right, but attempts to argue. “You don’t understand. It’s complicated.”

“You said that, Heeseung.” The use of his full name from Jake is enough to send a shiver down Heeseung’s spine. Jake never pulls out anyone’s entire name unless he’s serious. And if he can be serious while drunk… well, Heeseung is fucked. Because Jake is entirely right. “It’s all complicated, Hee. Everything is. But I think” - he pokes Heeseung’s chest again - “that the Heeseung I know doesn’t want to hurt his best friend Y/N like this.” He leans in and dramatically whispers, cupping his hand around his mouth. “Because he loves her.”

Heeseung groans, looking back at the girl briefly. She seems to have stopped shivering, and is typing quickly on her phone a few feet behind them. 

“Jake, don’t make me look bad here. It’s not that simple.”

“Then tell me, big guy.” Jake starts to get aggravated. “Tell me how it’s complicated. Tell me how you leaving with another woman when Y/N has clearly been waiting for you to get over yourself for years is justified here.” Jake shakes his head again. “You’re just going to hurt her again. Do you ever get tired of slowly killing her hope for the two of you? Your best friend?” He takes a step backward. “Your best friend that you’re in love with, might I add.”

Heeseung silently curses himself for being so open with Jake and the guys a few months back. But he also curses himself for being so reckless and stupid. Always looking for a good time to distract him from you, from the possibility that you’d reject him - rather than just having the courage to find out if you’d respond otherwise. 

What was he really so afraid of? He knew the answer to that. It was just the same as all the books and movies and shows. A tale as old as time - he was afraid to lose the bond you had as friends. Years of memories, at risk of being thrown away over some feelings he had that you didn’t reciprocate. 

But that was the thing, wasn’t it? He was assuming. What if he was wrong? What if every little signal he thought he picked up on over the years wasn’t just wishful thinking? Had you been waiting for the same thing he was?

“I’m not trying to hurt her, okay? I just…” he trails off, realizing he can’t find the right words to explain himself. Maybe because there weren’t any.

“Whatever, man.” Jake shakes his head for the nth time, dropping his hands in an exasperated state. “If this is the person you want to be, go ahead. But you can’t say I didn’t try.” Jake walks back up the steps and into the house, somewhat less wobbly than before. 

Heeseung looks back to find the girl looking right at him. She must have heard the last part of the conversation, as her face is rather uncomfortable. 

“Does this mean you’re not taking me home?” 

Heeseung sighs, looking at his shoes. “Yeah, I don’t know. I’m really sorry. I don’t think I’m in the mood to leave with you right now.”

She sighs. “It’s alright.” She starts toward the house, just as a tall guy walks out, pulling out a joint. She immediately approaches him and begins the same routine she had with Heeseung earlier. He chuckles to himself. He can’t help but feel relieved that she’s gone. 

~~~~~

Inside, you and Sunghoon have returned to sitting on the stairs, watching the party goers. After hearing what Sunghoon had said about Heeseung not confessing, you became pretty upset at the fact that he had just left with another girl he barely knew. Sunghoon managed to cheer you up enough, and now the two of you are people watching and sticking to friendly conversation.

Sunghoon cracks a joke about one of the guys, someone you both had seen in your lab. You laugh so hard that you almost spit your drink all over your skirt. Some of it dribbles down your chin and onto your shirt.

“Sorry,” He says, grabbing your cup from you as you wipe your hands across the small wet spot above your chest. “Do I need to grab a napkin?”

“No, I managed to keep most of it in,” You giggle. He hands the cup back to you. 

He turns, and his eyes seem to concentrate on someone across the room. You follow his stare to the front door - where Heeseung has just re-entered the house. His eyes scan the room, looking for someone. Did he lose the girl?

Was he looking for you?

“Maybe you guys should talk it out,” Sunghoon suggests, his eyes still on Heeseung. 

You remain silent, your gaze locked on Heeseung as well. His head turns slowly, and he spots you and Sunghoon on the stairs. But he doesn’t seem to notice Sunghoon at all. His eyes are stuck on you. 

The eye contact - although across the room - is intense. Your instinct is to turn away, unable to handle the tension. But you don’t. And neither does he. He stays still, his eyes locked with yours, seemingly trying to convey something that you don’t quite understand. Your stomach flips, your heart quickens - but he wouldn’t know it from all the way over there. Or maybe he would. He knows you better than anyone in the room, maybe anyone in the world. 

As if sensing this, his Bambi eyes soften, the way they do when you’re showing him a new outfit, or when he watches you laugh at one of his jokes. It feels like the party has disappeared, and he’s right in front of you, looking at you in that way that makes your knees weak. The noise and the music, they all vanish, and it’s just the two of you, locked in a tunnel-vision stare. 

After several moments of fighting the urge to look away, he breaks the stare first, his eyes flitting over to Sunghoon next to you. His soft eyes harden, and his jaw tenses. You can tell even at this distance - you know him, too. Of course you do. 

Which is why you feel the need to warn Sunghoon.

Before you can say anything, however, Sunghoon has already caught on, having been witness to the entire staredown moments before. He begins to stand, but Heeseung is faster, already standing right in front of the stairs. 

Rushing through the crowd towards you drew plenty of attention, and the room seems to still, now quiet except for the music still playing and the muffled noise of partygoers in other rooms, oblivious to what is happening in this one. 

Sunghoon squints at Heeseung, assessing the situation. He stands in front of both of you, his face slowly turning angry. Now that he's closer, it's as if you aren't even there. He doesn't look your way at all, instead sizing up Sunghoon.

Sunghoon glances at you, nervous, then clears his throat. “Hey man. You alright?”

“Step away from her.”

~

PART 2 ON THE WAY! STAY TUNED!

thanks for reading !

with love, sunghoons-mole <3

[zombiigrll]

SHOT. ⋆｡°✩ carl grimes x reader .ᐟ WORD COUNT .ᐟ ⭑ 1.4K ꩜ .ᐟ WARNINGS ⭑ hurt to comfort, use of y/n, slight spoilers for 4x8-9, blood, walkers, injuries, basic apocalypse warnings yknoww .ᐟ SUMMARY .ᐟ ⭑ the governor came back to the prison, killing hershel and leading walkers in to kill more, along with having his people armed with guns to shoot at your people. and with your luck, you were a victim to the mindless shooting. ꩜ .ᐟ A/N .ᐟ ⭑ so sorry this took EONS to come out </3 hope u enjoy!

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everything was normal again. well, as normal as it could get nowadays. you had came from woodbury to the prison after the governor had abandoned you along with the other residents. you and carl had gotten very close since you arrived. the two of you immediately found that you had something in common, reading comics. hell, that's how the two of you met. you walked over to the library and found some comics, and then carl spotted you, immediately sparking a conversation about the wolverine comic that laid in your hands. the two of you got very close. you thought you were finally safe again. that thought was quickly challenged after the governor came back, but this time, to the prison. with new fighters on his side, too. you heard the commotion and ran towards it with carl by your side, and the two of you witnessed hershel getting his head cut almost completely off. then everyone began shooting on both sides, causing walkers to get attracted to the sound and start roaming through the prison yards. you stood right next to carl, attempting to help shoot at the walkers despite having barely any training. you hadn't been at the prison for very long. so much had happened since you had arrived, you didn't get a chance to learn how to shoot properly. you were shaking. i mean, who wasn't? all of you guys had just seen a man-- the only doctor you guys had-- get brutally murdered. you ran out of ammo quickly due to the quick frantic shots you were taking that you had missed. "fuck." you muttered, trying to reload the gun as fast as possible. but, just as you finished loading it, you heard a loud bang, followed with a sharp, a brutal pain rushed up through the side of your torso, through your cotton zip-up shortly after. you froze, your eyes widening and your body shaking. you looked around for help, but everyone was too busy fighting again the walkers and the governors new people. your hand flung to your side that was now beginning to gush with blood, and you knew you had to move. you took off your jacket as the heat began becoming unbearable as you limped off to cover slowly. you leaned down, back against the wall, holding your side tightly with one hand while covering your winces up with the other as you sat down. an obnoxious ringing began playing through your ears and your vision began going in waves from clear to blurry. you looked around and everyone seemed to be dispersing, but you couldn’t tell from the glare that had started appearing in your eyes. but then, the ringing quited down, and a familiar voice began tuning in.

“theres her jacket — where is she?!” the voice yelled over the gunshots, breaking as if the person was crying. “..theres blood.” you coughed loudly, your voice becoming scratchy after your silent sobs. “…carl?” you heard footsteps running towards you. you blinked frantically, trying to clear your vision to see who or what was coming at you, when a familiar sheriffs hat came into view. “holy shit.” he crouched down to your level, taking in your bloodied and bruised appearance with his hands on your shoulders. the two of your jolt your heads to the side at the sound of an explosion in the distance. “we.. have to go.” you tried standing up, but the attempt quickly failed as the pain shot through your whole body right as you tried lifting yourself up, causing you to lose balance. carl catches you before you could fall.

“don’t get up, you’ll make it worse.” he sets you back down carefully, putting pressure on your gunshot wound and looking around for his dad. “we need to get you in a car.” “i can’t move, carl.” you shook your head with a scoff, closing your eyes tightly as the pain worsened. he stares at you, wide-eyed in fear, watching you bleed out as the blood stains his shaking hand. he moves his hand off of your side and places your hand back onto the wound before picking you up bridal style, turning around with you gently in his arms to look for his dad. your vision began turning from blurry to black the more steps carl took. he glances down at you with a frown, a tear falling from his eye and onto your face. "stay with me. please." his voice shook. "try and stay awake."

those were the last words you heard before you blacked out. ... you heard a sniffle. "you couldn't protect judith. you couldn't protect.. hershel or glenn or maggie. michonne, daryl, or mom. you couldn't protect y/n." the familiar voice angrily spoke. "you just wanted to plant vegetables. you just wanted to hide. he knew we were here and you didn't care! you just hid behind those fences and waited for... they're all gone now. because of you! they counted on you! you were their leader! but now, you're nothing."

you slowly opened your eyes, and though your vision was foggy, you could make out carl standing next to the couch in front of you, yelling at an unconscious rick.

"i'd be fine if you died."

as you heard him say that last line, the pain shot back through your body, causing you to wince loudly. carl quickly turns his head around to face you, his eyes wide and glossy and his mouth agape. he brings up a hand to cover his mouth as he slowly walks over to you.

"oh- oh my god." he cries, kneeling down to look at you. "how.. how are you feeling?"

you laughed, which caused the pain to come back quickly and your hand fell to your wound. "...not good."

he frowns. "i tried to patch it up. i-i don't really have any experience with bandaging up wounds, but i found a little bit of medical stuff. i tried."

"thank you." you smiled up at him, but you quickly frowned at the sight of the dried blood on his hands. your dried blood on his hands. "...i'm sorry."

"for what?" he raised an eyebrow as he moved a hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear.

"putting you through that." you pointed towards his hands then back at the side of your torso.

"it wasn't your fault. you didn't get shot on purpose." he reassured. his face was twitching as he tried to refrain from crying.

your eyes averted to rick, laying unconscious on the couch. his face was battered and bruised. "...you were yelling at him."

a guilty expression appeared on carls face as he looked away.

"why?"

he shook his head. "i.. i don't want to talk about it."

you wanted to persist, push the answer out of him, but by his expression and the things you heard him say? you knew the timing was wrong. "okay." you sighed. "i'm here when you're ready to talk."

he nodded with a smile, but quickly he jumped up and grabbed his bag. "i, uh, found your jacket." he said as he pulled the cloth out.

you smiled, weakly grabbing it from his hands. "thank you." you said with a laugh, carefully putting it on.

"i'm... i- i don't.." the boy stuttered.

"hm?"

"i don't... know what i'd do if you had died back there." his voice was wobbly and his hands were shaking.

you smiled at him as you felt your eyes get watery. you carefully leaned over and hugged him tightly, to which he quickly returned.

"when i saw you sitting down in a pool of your own blood, i felt so guilty. you were right by my side, and i let you get shot. it made me really realize that i can't lose you." he hugged you tighter. "you're my best friend, and more. i love you, y/n. more than anything."

you were shocked by his words, feeling the true genuineness behind them. "i.. i love you too."

he broke from the hug and stared at you, cupping your face in his hands before leaning into a quick kiss. your guys' first kiss.

it felt like paradise, like going home after a day of chaos. the two of you broke from the kiss, staring at each other with rose-colored cheeks. a smile began forming on your face, which transferred to his. the two of you laughed together, in the comfort of each others presence as you awaited whatever was going to come after this whole situation.

you had each other now, and that's all that mattered.

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[frozenjokes]

mumbo jumbo jealousy arc

ao3 link

“Tell me everything.”

Etho was expecting to get cornered by Scar at the first opportunity, but honestly, he thought he might get more than 24 hours given that Scar had a job. According to Scar though, ‘what else are lunch breaks for?’ He cited a concern that Etho might forget everything if left for too long, which seemed dramatic, but it was true that Etho never had the best of memories. However, most of Etho’s memory problems were due to an issue of Chronic Spacing Out, and there was none of that happening at the beach yesterday.

“Mumbo didn’t understand what Grian did with his face. Mermaids also shave. I don’t know why he was so confused. I just don’t think he liked it. That was his biggest concern yesterday.”

Etho knew that would get him, Scar cackling so hard that Etho was truly shocked he could manage to dial Grian’s number at the same time.

///

‘And while I was away? What did you talk about then?’ Mumbo was dying to know, and while he had planned to leave Altas and Etho alone while he tended to the humans, he couldn’t help checking back in on their conversation, needing to know every tidbit of information and human knowledge shared between them. Mumbo was just so curious, and learning about the humans from his original sources was great, but there was a certain catharsis in learning directly, having Atlas ask the questions and receive clear, direct answers.

But Atlas had been cagey in the few days that had passed after Etho’s visit, and while Mumbo had been hoping they would gain enough confidence to interact with a real human face to face, Atlas only cringed away at the sound of Scar’s voice above the water, more touchy than they were in the first place. Mumbo didn’t understand why. Sure, getting Atlas to change their tune about humanity as a species was a grand notion of optimism that Mumbo was not naive enough to play into too much, but this change was almost more unexpected; pure aggression to more of a.. discomfort? Disgust, maybe, like the smell of rot or infection.

Despite this, whatever was bothering them was kept tightly sealed. Though perhaps underestimating the power of human eyesight, Atlas did surface a couple days later to watch Scar and Mumbo in the shallows. Scar was playing some kind of game where he chased Mumbo’s tail, grasping at the fins. Scar’s grand move was a hearty leap to grasp his quarry, but a miss left Scar momentarily immobilized as he inevitably face planted into the sand. A perfect opportunity for Mumbo to batter Scar’s head with the very tail fins he was chasing. It was a good game, Mumbo quite liked seeing Scar flail and scream a little. As much as human noise could be a headache, something about it in the context of play made everything much more satisfying. Though, without this context, it probably sounded like Mumbo was ripping off Scar’s scalp with his teeth. Was Atlas wondering if Mumbo finally snapped?

Scar must have had a secret sense for when mers who hated him were around, because despite his engagement in active warfare, he noticed almost immediately, breaking off their game to wave, then deflating when Atlas retreated in the next moment. Scar sat in the swallows after that, arms wrapped around his legs with his chin on his knees looking distinctly sad, and despite Scar’s obnoxiousness when it came to Atlas these days, Mumbo couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for him. Humans were social and loud, and this one just really loved making connections, even if he didn’t always know how.

“I don’t mean to scare him off..” Scar mumbled, and while Mumbo didn’t know what he was saying, he got the sense the human was referring to Atlas, “I just want him to come around, right? To know it’s okay.”

Mumbo didn’t know how to help him. He couldn’t explain, though with how pushy and nosey both humans could be, Mumbo was sure they had already heard from Etho about Atlas’s distaste for their kind. However, Mumbo could sing, and that quiet comfort was the best that he could offer for a downcast heart. It brought Mumbo peace to see Scar relax under his song.

…

‘I just don’t understand how you can be so comfortable with it, let it so close,’ Atlas had started, the words coming out of nowhere, hours after Scar had left. This wasn’t the first time this sentiment had been expressed, but judgement was not at the forefront of Atlas’s concern tonight, the mer shrinking in their discomfort. ‘I don’t think it’s natural behavior for humans either, it should be afraid of you, not interested like it is, especially not in me.’

‘They’re curious things,’ Mumbo whistled simply in response, and while he was a little tired of this line of conversation, he really did want to be patient. This was deeply antithetical to everything Atlas had known back home, and honestly, without the harsh edge to their questioning, the repetivity of the matter bothered Mumbo far less. ‘Scars especially is a very curious thing. You won’t have the same problem with Red.’

‘I don’t like it. Your Scars. I don’t like the way it regards you.’ Atlas’s clicks carried an emotion Mumbo couldn’t quite parse. He communicated this with a small flick of his tail and fins, asking for elaboration. Atlas was quiet for some time, deliberating.

‘Ghost had a few things to say about that human’s interest in us.’

Mumbo’s curiosity was instantly piqued, though Atlas only looked discomforted when Mumbo goaded them on, like they were hoping Mumbo would pluck the answers right out of their mind. This was distinct in its oddness; Atlas was not the type of mer to talk in circles. Finally, Mumbo had to prompt them vocally.

‘Say what you mean?’

‘It has..’ the hairs on Atlas’s shoulders prickled, ‘Courting motivations.’

Mumbo imagined that if the humans heard this, they’d laugh so hard that their lungs would fail to support them. He himself let loose a delighted trill, much to Atlas’s alarm.

‘Did you know? Does it not disturb you? Why didn’t you warn me!’

Mumbo waved them off with his tail, ‘Scars is not interested in you, don’t be ridiculous. Their fascination with mermaids mirrors my own curiosity with humanity. Whatever Ghost told you, they exaggerated.’

Atlas was not to be persuaded. ‘They seemed certain.’

‘Human emotion is difficult enough to read on a human-born. Ghost is particularly difficult to decipher, and they do nothing to make it easier. If your intentions are to study the basics of human language once Ghost returns in their proper form, you’d benefit from spending a little time near the beach. They’re expressive creatures, Scars especially.’

Atlas didn’t need to say a word for Mumbo to know they hated the idea of that in any capacity. ‘That one worries me.’

Mumbo couldn’t help but snort. He hadn’t been intending on telling Atlas this as he knew he’d never hear the end of it, but Mumbo figured it would be worth it to quell this ridiculous anxiety.

‘If there were to be any courting between human and mer, it would be between Scars and I only. If Ghost was feeling snide, that’s what they were referencing.’

It looked like Atlas didn’t know if they wanted to snarl or flee. Mumbo got the message loud and clear, though a deep satisfaction turned his tail inward in a soft curl. He was pleased, even if the status of whatever relationship he and Scar had kindled was unclear. Mumbo didn’t particularly care! He quite liked the human casual, the relationship without commitments. He liked having Scar’s attention, far more than he’d ever cared for a mermaid’s. It was novel. Special. And honestly, human or mer, Mumbo had never known anyone else to hang off everything he did and said with such keen interest.

‘Surely you’re not serious,’ Atlas finally said, to which Mumbo purposely misconstrued the meaning.

‘We won't be trading scales any time soon, no, no.’

Atlas seemed to short circuit at the suggestion that this was even on the table, then clearly chose to ignore the sentiment, shaking themself off, ‘That human is not to be trusted. This- Practicality aside, this is deeply disturbing.’

‘If courting is all about practicality to you, I recommend you never find a lover.’

‘You can’t just exclude semantics from these discussions! What is it expecting of you? You of it? You can not mate, you can not occupy the same spaces comfortably- even besides the concept of interspecies courting being entirely antithetical, there is just no way something like this could work long term!’

Flippantly, Mumbo turned away, ‘I can do whatever I please.’ He could waste his time responding to all those questions, but what was the point when Atlas didn’t care for the answers. It wasn’t like Mumbo cared for the answers either, his interest solely in living freely and indulging in whatever was currently sparking joy. So what if he acted on fleeting whims, it’s not like he was hurting anyone.

‘I don’t trust it,’ Atlas said when they realized Mumbo would not be humoring them anymore, ‘Ghost spoke of an interest in the sea. Anything with fins, scales, and sharp teeth. They made it sound fickle.’

‘Ghost’s own disinterest in courting infects every word they speak about it, mermaid, human, or otherwise. Scars does not care for you; they will be too busy looking at me.’ Mumbo gave a pointed flick of his tail, all his fins now twitching in annoyance. Scar was outgoing, he went out of his way to put himself out there, but Mumbo would not consider him fickle. Whatever Scar and Grian got up to was none of his concern; as far as he knew humans were just like that, fighting over each other and mating with reckless abandon. There was still so much that Mumbo did not know about humans, but these weren’t the things that would keep him up at night. Mumbo was experimenting! He was having fun! As far as he could tell, so was Scar! It wasn’t- It wasn’t fickle! Fickle. Ridiculous.

Mumbo abandoned Atlas on the sandy floor, withdrawing in a huff to the burrow where he kept his things and slept.

His mind wandered. It took him down a path he hated to travel, though his thoughts lingered on the end of it all, defending Scar from the monster he seemed so eager to befriend. No one had been pleased about this, but Scar didn’t care at all, and while Mumbo had struggled to glean the meaning of everything he was doing and saying, Grian had admonished him for.. Scar had been chasing a monster whose scale had already been traded (metaphorically, at least. Mumbo had looked, and he saw none of Joel’s dark scales etched into theirs.)

Mumbo had been so startled by the question of mermaid monogamy that the implications hadn’t fully set in. Not that he was bothered if humans took multiple partners, honestly, that surprised him very little, but..

What if Scar really was only interested in fins and scales? It didn’t matter who they were attached to or the things they'd done to hurt someone.. Mumbo’s gut coiled. Was it so simple? If Etho had said it, insisted that’s really all Scar cared about- once Scar learned of Etho’s condition, had he pursued them as well?

Maybe Mumbo was the novelty.

///

“-one hundred years, Mumbo, one hundred years! The whole team got cursed by that goat, that’s why the Cubs never won a World Series for that long, but they pulled through! The curse is broken! Well, that specific curse at least. Apparently the Cubs have a lot of curses, like, a lot, Bdubs and I were looking that stuff up for a while last night, just all sorts of baseball stuff- sports fans are very superstitious it turns out! Who knew? One hundred years. Pretty cool!”

“Your ice is gonna melt, bud,” Grian called from where he was fiddling with his fishing gear; Mumbo was thrilled to see him back at his hobbies! Scar jumped to attention, looking mildly sheepish before babbling on.

“Well, I just wanted you to know where the name came from. Cub. Cubby Cub Cub. Cubby Wubby Cub Dub. Bdubs and I couldn’t stop with that last night, just Cubby Cubbing for like an hour, Etho just about killed us. But I was thinking about it, and I was like, huh! If this mermaid is sticking around for the foreseeable future, he needs a name! He- it- they- ohh, I don’t know what to call Cub actually! I wish you could ask them what they’d prefer..”

“I doubt it cares, Scar,” Grian said again, answering a question Scar did not ask. “People pronouns probably don’t mean anything to mermaids. Etho said gender was different for him, right? Probably the only reason he calls himself ‘he’ is because that’s what Joel started calling him.”

“Well I don’t want to call them it.”

“Then don’t.”

Whatever Grian had said must have made perfect sense, Scar shooting up like he’d had some great epiphany. “Great point! Anyway, I’ve been a little down because I know your friend doesn’t like Grian and I and that’s okay, but selfishly it's also extremely not okay to me and I need them to like me. I need it. But clearly my current methods aren’t working, so I was like, what else can I do? And then I didn’t come up with anything. So I called Grian! And Grian suggested delivering a gift through you, which was a great idea, but I was stumped on what to give them, y’know? I figured no human stuff, you like the humans stuff but- oh! That reminds me, I’ve got a trinket for you, don’t let me forget it- Anyway, I asked Etho, and Etho told me to stop calling him, but then after I called five more times he told me that Cub would never like me which was rude and also sad. After that though, he told me it’s really hot on the surface compared to the deep water, and that you guys have to travel a little ways out to actually hunt, and I thought well, why not give you a frozen treat! At first I was just gonna bring some still frozen fish in a cooler, but Grian, genius Grian, suggested I let you have the ice too! I got you a biodegradable bag for it and everything, but I hope you don’t try to eat that too. Do you like to eat ice? I do. Dentist said it was bad for my teeth and I had to stop, but sometimes I just can’t resist. Whatever kind of ice they put in your drinks at restaurants, that’s the good shit. Can’t let it go to waste.”

Scar retreated back to his and Grian’s bags, where he heaved a new container up off the sand, waddling back with it in his arms. Must’ve been quite heavy; Scar had never brought something like this to the beach before. Mumbo’s interest was piqued, though Scar never left the box’s side, making it frustrating to investigate. Oh, what he wouldn’t give to pull it off the beach and right into the water, then he could have his way. Scar seemed to anticipate this though (it’s not like Mumbo had a history of stealing! This was blasphemy!), using his body as a shield from Mumbo’s grabby hands and positioning his weight strategically so that he could fall on top of the box if Mumbo made a break for it anyway. Foul human, Scar never had any fun.

“Now, most of this is for Cub, but I have some for you too of course. Not even portions- I’m just trying to make a good impression here, I hope you understand.” Carefully, without turning his back on Mumbo, Scar opened the box, pulling out a- fish. Oh. Well, Mumbo was a little underwhelmed, he wouldn’t lie. It was quite stiff too, and almost shiny? Actually, now that he was seeing all this together, he recognized this box. Scar used to bring it often when Mumbo’s tail was busted; did he think he needed to provide food again? With all due respect, Mumbo hoped not. He wasn’t trying to be rude though, Scar must have hunted very hard for this fish! He took it, but nearly dropped it at the revelation that it was cold.

Now, this wasn’t entirely new, and fish given by the humans had always been a little cold, but never to this degree. The fish was nearly frozen solid- no wonder it was so stiff! Mumbo was utterly perplexed, but he didn’t want to give Scar the impression he was ungrateful, so he proceeded to devour the whole thing. It wasn’t unpleasant, not by any means, but seeing Scar’s delighted smile made all the strangeness worth it.

“Gift.” Scar started, and Mumbo perked up, paying closer attention now that Scar was actively trying to communicate with him. “For Cub. Gift for Cub.” Scar pointed across the lake, which was rippling in the light breeze. “For Cub.”

Was.. he trying to give something to Atlas?

“Gift for Mumbo.” Scar produced one bag from the box, handing it over gingerly. It was tied tight at the top, and cold. Holding from the bottom, Mumbo felt a lot of loose pieces inside. Scar pulled another, larger bag up as well, struggling to point over the weight of it. “Gift for Cub. Cub.”

Cub. Mumbo had never heard that word before, but Scar had been saying it quite a lot today. Is that what he’d decided to call Atlas? Mumbo gave him a thumbs up, relatively sure he understood Scar’s intentions, and briefly set down his own gift so that his and Scar’s hands would not have to touch in the exchange. He couldn’t help but notice that Atlas’s package was bigger than his own, but it was possible this was on the account that Scar had given Mumbo part of his gift early, showing off what was inside.

“Go now,” Scar said, almost shooing Mumbo back. He got the idea, though was a little confused why Scar wanted him to leave so abruptly.. it’s not like the fish were fresh. Regardless, Mumbo dutifully delivered the parcels, waking a sleepy Atlas on the lake floor.

Immediate suspicion was a given. ‘What is this.’ However, Atlas sensed the cold, sparking interest as they drifted closer.

‘I think Scars has realized they can’t reach you on the surface. This is a new method it seems.’

‘Scars..’ Atlas repeated the name, distaste prickling across the hairs on their shoulder. Whatever intrigue they previously possessed seemed to die, repeating themself. ‘What is it.’

‘Fish, I think. Can’t say I know why, but it’s not poison.’

Atlas’s tentacles twitched in their suspicion. Mumbo couldn’t blame them, clicking, ‘You don’t have to eat them. They’re odd, frozen. Not inedible, just different.’

Mumbo couldn’t tell if the gesture Atlas lent him was amused or mildly incredulous, ‘You’re crazy.’

‘Not the first or last time a mer will call me that.’ Mumbo made to undo the ties on his own bag, only to be frightened as tiny shards of ice floated up and out in every direction, along with one or two fish. Even Atlas looked surprised, though Mumbo was silently delighted at the little trill that left their throat.

‘Stupid, stupid animals.’

‘Effective at least!’ Mumbo tried, all in good humor.

‘I’ll just sit on mine in that case.’ Atlas curled around their own gift, melting over the cold with closed eyes. Mumbo hadn’t planned on speaking, but Atlas intercepted before he could have anyway. ‘Not a word. And don’t let that human trash float away, they’re always shitting up the water.’

And with that, Mumbo was quite pleased for a while. He didn’t care either way for the ice, though he did enjoy chasing and eating the floating pieces. However, Atlas really seemed to be enjoying the cold, which was great! Mumbo was quite pleased Scar had found a way to get through to them, even if the human didn’t know it yet. When the two mers first arrived here, Mumbo had really been getting fed up with Atlas’s whining, but this was the hottest place Atlas had ever visited by far, and Mumbo felt for them when Atlas was still suffering in the heat after Mumbo had long since adjusted. Mumbo was very glad he happened to bring them here at the start of the cold months.

Mumbo left them like that, returning to his humans. Despite the fact that Atlas would rather be skinned alive than tell any human they liked their little offering, Mumbo couldn’t help but give Scar a thumbs up. Scar’s expression of unbridled delight was worth the wrath of Atlas if they ever found out. Mumbo had to hand it to him, it was thoughtful, even if the ice wasn’t supposed to be the main event.

Mumbo felt less good the moment he realized how much bigger Atlas’s gift was than his. Atlas didn’t notice; at least Mumbo was pretty sure they didn’t, they weren’t even interested in the fish, but they certainly noticed the next day, and the day after that. It was absurd, honestly! And maybe it didn’t matter, it didn’t matter, this was such a stupid thing to get caught up on. Scar was working harder to befriend Atlas because they were the one he needed to prove himself to, it made perfect sense! Atlas benefitted far more from the ice anyway, Mumbo was glad they got more of it- he gave all his to Atlas anyway! Atlas wouldn’t even eat the fish, but- he didn’t know! It was about the principle!

He tried not to let Atlas see he was bothered. This was impossible, every itch of irritation painted clearly in the picture of his constantly flicking fins, but Mumbo did try. Atlas might’ve been nearly as uncomfortable with this as Mumbo was; the last thing they wanted was Scar’s attention, and they wanted even less to get between them, especially if this was courting behavior. Honestly- Mumbo really didn’t know!

It didn’t matter.

At first, Mumbo attempted to remedy his own insecurity by bothering Scar incessantly for the next few days. When this didn’t work, Mumbo ghosted him. But then Scar got sad, just wailing at the beach for hours (minutes), and Mumbo caved to a day of typical activities. Scar did not take well to being ignored, and not in the way Mumbo wanted either; he was just persistent, deterred by nothing but straight up aggression, and Mumbo wasn’t trying to be aggressive! Scar just needed a healthy dose of his own medicine, to have his feelings minorly hurt or feel like some kind of replaceable commodity or- whatever. Mumbo only wanted to stop feeling like Scar would be perfectly content with any other- No!

This was so stupid!

Mumbo would show him. Humans could be expendable too- Mumbo could love just about anyone as long as they had legs!

Wait a minute. Grian had legs. Yes. Yes! Grian had legs! And he would be back soon- oohhh this would be perfect. Sure, after shaving Grian had gone down a couple pegs in terms of attractiveness- not that this mattered, but come on! He looked like an infant! Something about the death of that mustache which sparked Mumbo’s original inspiration was so deeply tragic, but he would persevere for the cause!

Mumbo would break Scar, he would regret ever- ever- Scar would surely regret!

[mcdonaldsnumberone]

LIP GLOSS!

beach date headcanons

gender neutral reader

ARYU JYUBEI!

checking out all of the stylish beach glam!

The beach holds a lot of risks for someone who wants to look in tiptop shape, but that isn’t deterring Aryu from a beautiful day out with you. He picks his outfits in advance, setting out patterned tropical shirts and matching pants, and he even puts his hair up and decorates it with shiny floral accessories. He’ll try to match with you and offer to help you dress yourself up, making sure you look just as glam as he does. Once at the beach, he’s eager to tan in the sun for a bit to show off his equally pretty swimsuit, and if time allows, he’ll even try to buy some souvenir clothes at the gift shop. You might be able to convince him to buy one of those obnoxious cringey tourist-bait t-shirts, but only if you promise to get one yourself to match with him and parade around the beach together like the keenly dressed couple you are!

“What do you think about this one?” You proudly hold up a big white t-shirt that has the phrase ‘SUNS OUT, GUNS OUT’ printed onto it in huge black letters. It’s garish and decorated with the most ugly emoji pictures known to man, which is why it caught your attention and precisely why you picked it out for Aryu to judge.

Your boyfriend swallows back a heavy sigh, rubbing his temples as if staring at your picks any longer would cause his brain to melt out of his ears. You had dragged him around the gift shops picking out the ugliest shirts you could find, each one growing worse than the last. Aryu shot down your offer to buy matching t-shirts with cartoon abs plastered onto the torso, so you thought you were toning things down.

“Are you really set on buying the most tacky thing you can get your hands on?” He asks, as if questioning you will change your determined will to wrestle your boyfriend into an embarrassing shirt. You nod eagerly, turning your attention back to the rack of horrible apparel next to you. Abandoning the white shirt you were just holding, you start rifling through it again.

“C’mon, it’ll be fun! Think about how jealous all of your friends will be! Even if it’s an awful souvenir, it’s not like they have a significant other that they can match with.” You grin at him with what Aryu can only describe as devilish intent as you bring out your next contender for him to judge. This time, it’s an all black t-shirt with the phrase ‘I GET BEACHES’ on it in bright yellow cartoonish print.

Aryu sighs again defeatedly. “...I suppose love and glam can go hand-in-hand. Very well. Pick whichever one you like. We can wear the shirts together, and perhaps everyone will see our natural stylishness shine even more from our affection for one another.”

Your grin widens even further, stretching quite literally from ear-to-ear. “Say less! I’ll pick out the best shirt you’ve ever seen!”

NANASE NIJIRO!

teaching him how to swim!

Nanase’s sunny attitude and courage often leads to him sticking himself headfirst into places he’s less-than-equipped for. You should have expected this: your endearing boyfriend making a beeline for the waves the moment you arrived at the beach, only to realize in horror that the boy has no clue how to swim and is being swept away as he flails his arms uselessly. After fishing him out and failing to get properly mad at him once you see his bright smile, you have no choice but to resort to teaching him the basics. Buying him a few floaties and kickboard ought to do the trick, and Nanase will entertain himself for hours bobbing around in the sea, looking more like a toddler in all of his swim gear than he does a soon-to-be professional soccer player. But, hey, at least he still looks adorable!

You tighten the floating around Nanase’s bicep, making sure the velcro strap is fastened on securely enough that no amount of waving, flailing, or splashing will cause it to come loose. Nanase waits patiently, and he stares up at you with his big eyes as drops of salty water drip from strands of his midnight black hair. 

You pat his arm when you’re satisfied with your work. “Okay, that should be good! Jesus, you scared me really badly there… Why’d you go rushing into the water if you don’t know how to swim?”

“It looked fun! Everyone else was already in the water, and I was in there before I knew it! I couldn’t help it… Isn’t the whole point of going to a beach to have fun in the water?” Nanase asks innocently, and a hint of a boyish smile tugs at the corners of his lips. Even when he’s being scolded, he looks so pleased with himself that you have no choice but to forgive him almost automatically. 

“Well… Yeah, but still…,” you sigh, shaking your head. “Just take it easy, and don’t go places where you can’t get yourself out of. These floaties should keep you from going under at least. Don’t go too far away, and stay close to me, okay? I’ll go in with you.”

His eyes light up, twinkling like stars when you mention that you’ll be accompanying him. “You’re going to come with….? Oh! Are you going to save me again if something bad happens?”

This boy…! You can’t tell if he actually has a brain in that head of his. What are you ever going to do with someone as airheaded as him? It’s like he lives and breathes just for your attention, and as much as you love him, it makes you wary of everything he does. 

You reach over, and you grab his cheeks, pinching the soft flesh and stretching his face out as if it were made out of playdough. “Don’t go and get any stupid ideas! Purposefully drowning yourself so that I’ll rescue you is not an option, Nanase! Do you hear me?”

Nanase mumbles out the best he can with his cheeks being pinched, “Y-Yesshir…”

SHIDOU RYUSEI!

surfing!

Shidou loves moving to the beat of his own drum. He acts independently, plays independently, and defies the logic of anyone who tries to snare him within the strings of reasoning. Getting to go on a beach date with you means that he’s going to do whatever he wants. Be it teasing you in your swimsuit, downing a whole mountain of shaved ice, and then letting loose in the water, Shidou knows how to keep himself busy and does his best to drag you into his shenanigans as well. Whether or not it ends up with the two of you mastering the waves or play-fighting while drenching each other in seawater, Shidou will have you laughing and enjoying yourself with him by the end of the day. He has his charms, as insufferable as he might be, but you have to give him credit where credit is due.

“Hey-”

The sun blares in your eyes while you try to relax underneath the big beach umbrella you had lugged out to the sandy shore, taking refuge in the shade it creates as you forget the rest of the world. Or you would, had it not been for your insistent boyfriend constantly prodding at your arm.

“C’mon, quit ignoring me,” Shidou grumbles, puffing his cheeks out. You don’t know how he manages to keep up his energy even in the blazing beach heat, but when Shidou becomes fixated on something, he won’t stop until he sees it through. Unfortunately for you in this case, he’s determined to get you to join him and won’t let you rest until you will.

You groan dramatically, flopping like a pile of goop onto the beach towel underneath you. “It’s so hot! How does anyone have the energy to go surf in the sun like this?”

“The whole point of surfing is to cool off, idiot.” Shidou pokes you in the side of your head jokingly. He gestures to the waves a few feet away, the clear blue water glistening like diamonds underneath the unfiltered sunlight. “We try it out, we fall into the water, and we cool off. Solid plan, don’tcha think?”

You wonder if it’s worth biting back at him, to tell him to go do it on his own while you desperately try to cool off on your own, but if the wide grin on his face tells you anything, it’s that Shidou will drag you into the sea one way or another. It’s your choice whether or not you go willingly or have him carry you kicking and screaming, and you make the wise decision to peel yourself off of the ground.

“You’re not going to take no for an answer, aren’t you? I know you too well,” you pretend to sigh disappointedly, but your faux reluctance isn’t fooling anyone. Shidou gives a loud cheer and grabs your hands, leaving the two of you stumbling across the hot sand and towards the surfboards, ready to make a splash in the waves. 

MICHAEL KAISER!

getting sunburnt and crying for your attention!

Kaiser loves trying to show off to impress you, only to turn around and end up flopping so bad that he looks pathetic instead. But that’s all part of his charm, isn’t it? Leave it to everyone’s (least) favorite German to buckle up for a romantic day at the beach, except he ends up getting burned by the sun to the point that he turns as red as a lobster. Lucky for him, you’re there to comfort him when he comes crying about how much it hurts and how he feels like he’s going to die unless you’re there to rub aloe vera onto his chest and back. It’s totally not because he wants you to feel his abs and toned back muscles, and he totally doesn’t need a kiss from you in order to heal as fast as he can! Maybe what he truly needs from you is a harsh glare from you and a freezing cold ice pack in order to put him back in his place.

“What are you going to do without me?” You sigh, shaking your head as you slather up your hands with a generous helping of soothingly cool aloe vera. Kaiser whimpers, laying on his stomach as his irritated red back provides proof to you that your handsome but stupid boyfriend got cooked to crisp in the sun. 

He groans under his breath in relief when you spread the solution onto his sunburnt skin, his body practically melting underneath your fingertips. You bite back a coy smile; who could imagine an esteemed striker like him turning into needy putty the moment he needs your help? 

“Darling, it’s like I’m falling in love with you all over again,” he whispers. He squirms underneath you, trying to guide your hands upwards his muscled back, clearly flexing his muscles to show off, and you roll your eyes. Smacking his shoulders gently, you take your hands off of him.

“I’m more than aware of how helpless you’d be if you didn’t have me.” You don’t want to admit that you’re equally in love with him, even though dating him feels more like being his white knight in shining armor than a proper lover at times. But when he cranes his neck to look up at you with such loving blue eyes and his signature grin, you can’t help but let your frown turn into a smile.

“But I do have you. Because you’re so madly in love with my charm, right? Because I’m that good-looking and talented, right?” Kaiser’s just fishing for your attention at this point to lift his spirits, and you lean forward to brush some of his hair out of his forehead. 

You roll your eyes, and you kiss him quickly to get him to shut up. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, you doofus.”

Kaiser melts again, swooning visibly as he gazes deeply at your face. He bats his eyelashes up at you, his cheeks brightening into a tiny pink flush as he stares at you as if you were the most beautiful person ever in history. “You know… I’m sure I’d be instantly cured if you kissed my sunburn better… What do you think, darling?”

“Dream on, Kaiser.”

x

[megangovier]

The New Assistant

Pairing: Telepathic Boss! Wesker x Assistant Plus size! fem reader

Word counter- 600

No mention of y/n

Summary: You're the new girl working for Wesker, first time he saw you he ignored you and didn't even acknowledge your presence. One employee asked you to take coffee into Wesker's office, you agreed and did just that. Just to be faced with someone rude.

Warnings: 18 + only [Mean!Wesker] [Smut] [degrading]

Being the new assistant isn't easy, always a target for bullies in workplaces, like your old job. The boss was a narcissist, and the employees weren't that nice either so one day you decided to phone up your old boss and shout down the phone "I quit" you had to remove yourself from toxic environments that was known to drain your psyche. Working in a new place was what you needed, meeting new people and showing the boss how enthusiastic you're for the job. Heading into the area where you'll be working for Mr. Wesker a bright smile fell onto your face. Sitting down on the chair a woman came up to you and introduced herself to you and what you'll be doing for Wesker. Nodding in agreement you stood up again shook her hand and headed into your new office.

Morning went and afternoon came, it was 14:30pm and you've worked so hard since this morning. When it came to lunch break you left your office and started to introduce yourself to another employee's. The one you haven't met yet was Albert Wesker himself. As you got back to your seat a handsome man walked through the double doors, glasses on, blonde hair and sharp jawline. He was so gorgeous that heat was crawling up your neck and cheeks felt warm. Looking around you caught his eye, turning on his heel he headed back to his office. A disappointed look fell onto your face, wiping tiredness away from your eyes you stood up and got some coffee, one of the employees came up to you and asked if you could take some coffee to Wesker's office you agreed and headed to his office.

Knocking on his door he said "come in" as you opened up a sigh left his lips. walking Infront of his desk you put the cup down and introduced yourself to him, a look of disgust fell onto his face and waving his hand for you to leave your jaw clenched in annoyance of how rude he was. Leaving quickly, you headed back to your office and sat down hiding your face. Anger rippling through your body, you stood up and walked up and down your office talking to yourself "what an asshole- so rude and obnoxious!" gritting your teeth in annoyance you said, "fuck it" and stormed back into his office. "Who the fuck do you think you're, treating people like this huh? acting like the big guy, ignoring people and waving your hand for them to leave like they're nothing." Taking his sunglasses off beautiful red eyes appeared, looking them in awe he stood up moving his cup to the side sitting down "are you done? princess!" Gulping down you went to open your mouth to apologize but he put his gloved finger to his mouth "I don't want to hear it speak like that to me again and you'll be transferred." "Yes sir- sorry sir" walking up to you he looked into your eyes "good girl, now get out!!

Leaving Wesker's office you thought to yourself "wow those pretty eyes, never seen anything like it! just imagine them looking at you while he's between your legs." a hand grabbed your arm, it was wesker "what a filthy mind you have princess" your face went red and eyes looking off into another room "wha- what are you on about sir?" looking at you "don't act all innocent, I know what you were thinking" face turning tomato red and hands sweating. "I- um, I -" Wesker smirked "can't talk can you, so dumb to speak."

@weskie @albertwhiskerss 💗

[plooto]

𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐝𝐯𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ⊳ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞

synopsis . colonel miles quaritch—respected, feared, a machine . now, only bluer and younger the recom was near perfect. that is, until he catches the scent of a younger, field trained scientist. a distraction..but maybe that’s just what this programed machine needs.

warnings . pretty simple chapter , reader hasn’t met quaritch , pinky is reader nickname ,

words . 1.3k

notes . tag lists now open , js shoot me a pm or an ask and i’ll get you added.

you were the last recom to wake. it was.. different. you felt as if you haven’t moved, like you were in a coma. you tried to make your movements as fluid as possible, the tail behind you making things wayy more difficult than it needed to be. curling itself when it shouldn’t have, obnoxiously wrapping itself around your arm, after a bit of time, you grew fond of it, like a little you that couldn’t hold a secret.

they dropped you off at a computer to have you watch a video of you. wait what? you didn’t get much time to process before the video was playing in front of you. you pulled your brows together, confused. it really was you—well, human you.

“ hi! so i’m not sure if you’ve caught on yet, but.. you’re me! surprise ! ” you giggle to the camera, you look around for something to talk about, biting down on your bottom lip.

“ let’s see.. i’m a field trained researcher, and i worked with grace, eywa rest her soul, so..i know quite a bit about the na’vi and their ecological systemm. i know i said i’m field trained, but i only got that because zdog double dared me.. we do not back down from double dares and we don’t break pinkie promises. ” you smile, shaking your head and covering your mouth with the back of your hand to stifle your laugh. commotion in the background made your head turned, only for you to be engulfed in a headlock by your close friend, zdinarsik, but everyone calls her zdog. “ zee! get offf! ” you huffed, trying your hardest to get out of her grip. “ this is all-hmph! recorded y’know. ” zee paused her antics to wave to the camera before messing up your hair sone more before the colonel called her.

“ that’s my closest friend, she knows everything about me.. the things i wouldn’t dare say out loud, she already knows. ” you begin to ramble, you could go on and on about the people in your life, your new life here on pandora. it was absolutely breathtaking—aside from the animals who wanted you to never see the light of day once they get their teeth in you.

“ pinky! pinky, c’mon there’s a time limit on these things! ” you rolled your eyes at parker, calling you by the nickname grace so lovingly bestowed upon you. all because of one pinky promise bet you made to jake! it was simple really..you bet jake that he wouldn’t be able to get his own banshee, and he came back saying if he did, you’d have to go by pinkie around base till the end of time, or pandora is safe for humans. whichever came last that is.

“ wish i could tell you more! take good care of yourself, okay? zee too.. she acts like she doesn’t care, but she does. ” you stood up, holding your little finger to the camera, curling it as if the person on the other side looped it with yours. you blinked a few times before smiling and waving bye to the camera.

you looked around you, watching as more human-na’vi hybrids are pulled from what you assume were incubation tanks. you watched for a little, before you were directed out and onto a ship, headed for pandora. your ears perked up, blindly taking the breathing machine as you looked at the people floating in front of you. they didn’t look much smaller, at least not from your perspective. you strapped the mask over your face as you got on the ship. pulling at the straps securely, you made sure the mask was on tight enough one last time before you dazed off, wondering how much it has changed since you were last there, thankfully, it was a long way down to pandora.

the shift of the ship landing woke you. looking around slightly confused. you’re on pandora. you removed the straps, standing up and stepping out. feeling the heat of the sun against my skin, you stretched your limbs, your tail joining in on the fun.

“ this way, ” you follow behind the humans, leading you to wherever they needed you to go. you didn’t pay attention, you were too busy looking around, eyes landing and scanning everything around you.

“ the general, ” they state, snapping you out of your dazed state, you looked down, seeing a lady already engaged in conversation.

“ general ardmore? ” you spoke softly, not trying to stop their conversation, but just let her know you were here. she turned, bidding farewell to her colleague before fully turning to you.

“ y’n l’n, good to see you. ” you sat down on your knees before saluting. looking down so far hurt your neck..

“ we’ve brought you back to continue the avatar program. we want better avatars. with your research and you being the one to work under the late grace, you’ll be overseeing and ensuring our avatars are in the best shape. ” i nod once,

“ great. where can i set up? ” you say, pulling yourself to stand, gripping the straps of your backpack.

“ easy there, you’ve gotta learn your own avatar body first. ” your face turned a little darker, embarrassed that you missed that after working with the previous avatars.

“ right, thank you, general. ” you nod once, excusing yourself to find your room. getting in, you took a moment to look around. it wasn’t much, a bed, table and a bathroom. talking a breath, you settled, dropping your bag at the foot of the bed and plopping on the bed which was surprisingly soft. you groan, your lower back thanking you for giving it a rest. a soft chime rang through your room, confused you sit up. another chime. inwardly whining, you got up, opening the door only to be tackled in a bone crushing grip.

“ oh it’s really you! dude, took ya long enough! ” the much taller avatar pulled away from you, grin on their face, chewing gum. your brows pulled together, your mind putting together the puzzle pieces. your face lit up, jaw dropping and voice raising a pitch,

“ zee? ” she nods, bringing her hand to mess up your unruly hair. grinning, you threw your arms around her middle, tail swishing excitedly behind you. she laughed,

“ heard you had to go do some motor tests, so i opted to help ya, took the colonel forever to a king request though. ” she shrugged. you pulled back, telling her you needed to change, you turned, opting for some shorts and a cropped shirt they had for you in a bag.

“ ready? ” you turned to her, pulling your hair and kuru out of your shirt. she nods, gesturing for you to follow her. walking next to her, you jogged every now and again to keep up with her long strides. passing other avatars you concluded you were definitely irregular height. at 8 feet tall, you definitely we’re definitely an anomaly..

“ pinky! ” you jumped, head snapping up to zee, who just shook her head, pressing a flat hand to your forehead, you closed an eye, ears falling flat against your head, “ get outta ya head, you’re short, no biggie. just means you’ll be able to move faster. ” she smirked at you, looping an arm around your shoulder as the two of you reached a large room with various numbers of equipment and obstacles.

“ hope you’re ready cos ‘m not going to go easy on you, ” you huffed, pulling your hair into a makeshift bun before following her to the first piece of equipment.

published . september 28 , 2023

[yansimstorythatiwillnotworkon]

#1

(For those who are deathly allergic to ocs in fan content, one of the ocs put in here isn't too important at the moment, but will be by the next week. Anyway, here's the first day of Osana's week.)

(Also, fair warning, there's a bit of cursing in here that's a tad bit more intense than in the game.)

__

April 2026, Week 1

Monday

“D-Don’t get me wrong!” Osana waved her hands to her friend as the two gossiped a tree or so away from Senpai. Ayano herself was sitting on the bench beside them. “Looks aren’t everything! For instance, I can’t get along with them if they’re as dumb as a rock! So, really, the most important thing is intelligen..”

“Musume!!”

Ayano flinched, being taken sincerely by surprise as Kashiko screamed for the self-proclaimed leader of their annoying little gang. Musume was already unbearable on her own for being such a senseless moron, but Kashiko was loud and obnoxious.

“Girl, you are not going to believe which of the long-skirted sluts are back.” Kashiko snickered, waving her phone teasingly to the taller girl.

“If this girl is so important, then why have I not heard of her?” Musume asked, crossing her arms with a lifted eyebrow.

The purple-themed girl grins, “Duh, cuz I see all the drama first? Maybe if you didn’t spend all your time in the damn plaza you’d see somethin’, too!” She shrugs, “Anyway! It’s Semaj..”

As Musume hears Kashiko whisper this, she scoffs, “Hell no, it is not Amise god damned Semaj.”

“Yes, girl, it is!” Kashiko giggled, “With how she totally quit last year, you would’ve thought that girl was dead!”

Musume rolls her eyes, “If only, huh? God, Hoshiko’s gonna be pissed to hear that Amise is back.”

“For sure! Amise always snitched on her pranks, didn’t she?” Kashiko said to her blue-themed friend, pulling out her phone.

“..where is that goody-two-shoes, anyhow?”

“Uh..” Kashiko smacked her teeth, pulling a finger up to her lips in thought. “The sewing room, I think? Pretty sure she’s chatting it up with that fugly femboy in there.”

Musume raised an eyebrow. “You mean that no-eyed weirdo?” She asked, and rolled her eyes when Kashiko nodded. “Man, she must think she’s the quirkiest girl in school, chatting it up with the loners.”

“Right?!” Kashiko cackled.

“Well, I’m gonna see what she’s been up to, then. See what I can stir up..” Musume hummed, waving her phone at Kashiko as if telling her to get back to her part of the school.

Ayano scoffs, looking back to Raibaru and Osana before realizing that they were just talking about their favorite cats instead of anything relating to Senpai. Ayano frowns, blaming those two for having screwed up her chance at learning more for her plans. In general, she hoped that she got the gist of whatever it was they were saying.

Ayano stands up but suddenly jumps at a voice behind her. “Hello, there.” She turns around, seeing a taller girl behind her. Judging from her general appearance, she assumed that she was one of the foreign kids that the Headmaster accepted in for the sake of having more students. Although Ayano didn’t recognize her.

“Hello.” Ayano responds blankly, although internally she wonders why she didn’t notice this girl approaching her. “Do I know you?” She asked, not very well attempting to hide her lack of interest.

“Well, no, but that’s why I’m here to introduce myself.” The girl puts a hand to her chest with a charming smile. “My name is Amise Semaj, I’m one of the exchange students from last year.”

Ayano nods, “Right.”

“I planned on introducing myself to all of the first years, but then I saw you and realized we hadn’t introduced each other either.” Amise hums, crossing her hands behind her back. “I guess it’s because I’ve been gone so long. But, it’s a pleasure to meet you, miss..?”

“..Ayano. Aishi.” Ayano responds, reluctantly taking and shaking Amise’s hand. It wasn’t often that anyone bothered introducing themselves to Ayano. If anything, if Ayano wanted to look good she would often have to walk up to them and do some sort of favor for them. Thankfully, the whole school was apparently made up of a bunch of morons who couldn’t do a simple essay.

Amise chuckles, “A pleasure to meet you, then, Aishi.” She says, folding her hands back behind her back. “I still have some first years to catch up on, but I hope you have a, uh..” She pauses for a moment, thinking of her next words strangely carefully. “..a productive day.” She says, before nodding and walking away.

Ayano merely hums in response, watching as Amise is suddenly shocked by Musume’s sudden appearance. Musume pulls her in for a quick and brief hug- so much so you would think that she was disgusted by it- before pulling out her phone to take a selfie of the two of them together.

Maybe that was just Amise’s thing, being popular with others, Ayano thought. It would be bad if she “witnessed” anything, then. Ayano would make sure to keep that in mind.

__

“Oh, hey! Hi!” Shoku Tsubaraya was apparently pretty popular with the other students. He was sweet, he baked often, and had an extreme passion for his club while the actual leader was away for a time.

Ayano looked around briefly as half of her attention was set on whatever Osana was saying outside. Apparently she liked the thought of joining the Cooking Club. But what good does that do Ayano? “..hi.” She replied stiffly.

Shoku cleared his throat awkwardly. “I don’t think I’ve ever spoken to you before.” He walks over to the counter and places one of the pastries on the napkin. “Do you like brownies?” He asks, holding one out to her.

“No.” The girl replies quickly as Osana and Raibaru continue on their way to the Drama Club. “I just came to look around.” She says, before swiftly leaving the room and heading for the next.

“Oh. Well, we hope to.. See you..” Shoku trails off before sighing in defeat. “..again.”

__

“Saaaaaalutations!”

Ayano frowned at how loud Tsuruzo Yamazaki’s greeting was, and he seemed to catch the hint and quiet down just a tad bit.

Raibaru spoke to Osana gently outside of the club room, and Ayano turned her gaze back to the purple haired fellow. “Hello.”

“Quite indifferent, aren’t you, my dear?” Tsuruzo lifts his hand up to his chin, smiling in thought as he looks Ayano up and down. “..actually… I think I recognize you! Gosh, who’s class were you in last year…”

Ayano quickly tuned Tsuruzo out before Osana explained that the Drama Club “wasn’t her type” of company. Rightfully so, the lot of them were insufferable for the most part.

The blank-faced girl blinks as Tsuruzo snaps his fingers in front of her. “Hello? Were you listening?”

“Ah, no. I spaced out. Sorry.” Ayano apologized half-heartedly.

With a sigh and a wry smile, Tsuruzo puts his hands on his hips. “I was asking your name, my dear.”

“Ayano Aishi.” As soon as she introduced herself, Tsuruzo’s expression lit up.

He laughs, “I knew I knew you! You were the one who fainted at the beginning of the year, weren’t you?” He recalls. Ayano frowns a bit in displeasure at the embarrassing thought.

Her fainting was the very first day that Ayano ever saw Taro. It made sense to her to be overwhelmed, although she told the nurse that she was simply feeling sick that day. Still, it was shameful that that was Taro’s first time noticing her. How embarrassing…

Tsuruzo on the other hand seemed quite pleased by the news he’d recalled. He didn’t seem to be laughing at Ayano specifically. Or at least, not for fainting like an idiot. “That was such a cute little act you put on! Good on you for getting out of classes for the rest of the day!” He smiled and Ayano blinked, a bit shocked.

It was true that she was allowed to just wander the school for the rest of the day thanks to that little incident. According to the guidance counselor she just needed some time to get used to her surroundings, since the day was “bound to be overwhelming” for some. Was that how people saw that day? Her trying to get away from classes?

Before Ayano could think any further, she noticed that Osana and Raibaru were departing this part of the hallway. “I’m going to go.” She says briefly, but Tsuruzo stops her.

“Ah-ah-ah, one moment.” He pulls a rose pin from his hair and hands it to Ayano. “The drama club could use such a good actress. I’m sure our leader would be pleased to have you.” He claims, before lifting a hand up to Ayano’s chin. “You also have an incredibly adaptable face.. I’d say you’re a perfect fit.”

Ayano pulled her face back, not entirely knowing what he meant by “adaptable”, but continuing on her way with a quiet, “Right..”

“Ah, think about it, Aya!” Tsuruzo calls. “You have a face fit for the spotlight!”

__

“O-Oh.” Shin turns, surprised by Ayano’s visit, but not shocked by her sudden appearance. “..hello, there.” Shin Higaku had a quiet, almost half-assed demeanor if you looked at it a certain way.

Amise was sure that to most people who looked at him he was just shy, maybe even intimidating due to his height. But as far as Ayano could tell, he just didn’t want to be here.

The entire club was very quiet, calm. The few members that were there were simply reading or chatting quietly about something. If anything, if Ayano were to join and was forced to attend an activity to stay in it, she would probably prefer it be in a club with a bunch of anxious losers.

Ayano looked behind her, noticing that she was able to see the hallway from inside the clubroom, although she didn’t know if it was actually one-way. She saw Osana speaking with Raibaru and talking about how creepy the club was. That much Ayano had to agree with. If the club lost the pentagrams it might be seen as some sort of reading club, which would likely be more popular.

“Your club looks interesting. I’ll consider joining.” Ayano says briefly, before tailing Osana upstairs.

“Farewell..” Shin says quietly, a bit louder now that Ayano was leaving.

__

“What? Whaddya want? Why are you interrupting me?!” Gema huffs, barely looking up to Ayano, and only having acknowledged her after she tapped him on the shoulder.

Ayano furrowed her eyebrows, but continued with her question. “What do you do in this club?” She asked.

“Uhh, can you not tell by the name?! What, do you have brain damage or something?!” He crosses his arms, although this only proves to make him look smaller due to his hunched over position. “I bet you came to look down on us, huh? Because we have a different hobby than you?! Actually, you don’t even do anything, do you? What, is staring at the sky more entertaining than practicing your hand-to-eye coordination? Is tha–”

“--what are the benefits to joining your club?” Ayano rephrases, hardly having the energy to refrain from rolling her eyes at his ranting. Even if there was some major benefit, Ayano would likely look for quite literally anyway to get it instead of dealing with Gema as her leader.

Gema raised an eyebrow, but eventually looked back to his game. “You know, since we’ve got tons of different games you can probably, uh.. “Boost your stats” in different aspects and whatnot. Like.. if you want to learn more about biology or writing or something or other, just play a specific game and you’ve pretty much got all the information you need.” He shrugs, no longer interested in conversing with Ayano.

“Right.” Ayano exhales, being released from Gema’s shrill voice only to be subjected to Osana’s whining about how playing games was childish. Ayano didn’t often play games, but considering how many games there were about murder, she thought differently.

“I’m going to move to the next club now.” Ayano comments, although as expected Gema doesn’t even bother to respond.

__

Ayano nearly winced when Budo spotted her. Even his general demeanor made him look… “loud”.

“Welcome to the Martial Arts Club!” And loud he was. “What brings you here?” Budo Masuta asks, holding out a hand for a hand shake.

Ayano reluctantly takes his hands, and gets a very firm shake in return. He was most certainly strong- and possibly the most fit person in Akademi. She could tell that much because of his height and build. Even with the knowledge she was taught about taking people down, Ayano would surely struggle- maybe even fail- against Budo in a one-on-one.

“I’m looking around. Deciding on if I’d like to join a club just yet.” Ayano responded. Despite having a distaste for Budo’s loud persona, she was still capable of holding a conversation with him.

Budo smiles, “Guess that’s my time to promote, then, huh?” He puts his hands on his hips, making himself seem even larger than before. “We study hand-to-hand techniques and specialize in self-defense.” He explains. “We’re not interested in starting fights, of course, but if anyone ever wanted to start one with us, we’d know how to not only defend ourselves, but fight back and apprehend the assailant as well!” He explains.

“That’s just the simple stuff, though. I’m sure our club can be of interest to you if you’re ever paranoid of.. Maybe walking home alone at night, or just have a problem with those delinquents out there.” Budo jabs a finger out the window to outside because that’s where the infamous delinquents usually hung out.

Ayano looks away in thought, catching that Osana wasn’t too interested in the Martial Arts Club either. How picky. As Ayano is thinking, Budo speaks up again in a slightly quieter tone.

“Sorry if I’m coming off a bit strong. I’m often told that I scare possible club members more than their own anxieties.” He explains, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Mm.” Ayano watches as Osana and Raibaru head towards the light music club. “I’ll think about it.” She responds briefly, making Budo’s expression light up.

“Great! Drop by anytime you’d like to spar with us!” He waves as Osana exits the clubroom.

__

“Yo!” Miyuji Shan, the current Light Music Club leader waved, putting down her guitar and standing up to greet Ayano. Before Ayano could respond, though, Miyuji smiles. “Hey, you’re pretty cute! But I think some red dye would totally make you rock that hairstyle!” She comments, pumping her fist a bit with a bright smile.

Ayano looks at her ponytail, messing with the end of it briefly. She wondered if Taro would like her better with some hair dye. If he liked Osana so much, maybe she could dye it orange? “..if you’re implying that I should become the red color to your band, just know that I’m no good with instruments.”

“Ha! You caught on to me, didn’t you?” Miyuji giggles. “Ah, well, it was worth a shot!” She shrugs. “But don’t worry about your experience- we can teach you everything! Hell, one of our members is sort of like a, uh- a jack-of-all-trades type card, y’know? She can teach you whatever instrument you’re interested in.”

Ayano hears Osana talk about how she wouldn’t want to join a club if she had no experience. She scowled, upset that she and her rival would think the same about anything. Except for how amazing Taro is, at the very least.

Miyuji lifts an eyebrow at Ayano’s lack of response, but shrugs and pulls a pin out of her pocket. “Well, that wasn’t a no, so take this and come back if you’re ever feeling it, alright?” Miyuji suggests, putting the pin in Ayano’s hand.

“..right.” Ayano nods briefly, tailing Osana and Raibaru over to the Art Club.

__

“Oh, hi.” Geiju Tsuburaya, apparently the brother of Shoku despite their varying appearances.

“What do you do in this club?” Ayano asks, folding her arms as she looks around briefly. There was all sorts of paint, good for making a mess, she assumed. She then looked at the painting smock that Geiju was wearing. That would be useful if she wanted to cover up some blood.. But she’d likely have to join the club in order to get it.

“We paint. We sculpt. We craft.” Geiju says irritatingly briefly.

Ayano looks around some more, noticing plenty of tapes, canvases, box cutters, pens.. A lot of items for a lot of uses. Despite the irritatingly silent leader, this club might be of good use, Ayano thought.

Geiju looks away briefly from his canvas. “Joining us?” He asked, although as Ayano looked away in thought, he turned back to his canvas.

“Maybe..” Ayano says quietly. Geiju nods in understanding as Ayano heads to the next club after Osana.

__

“Oh, hey!” Fureddo welcomes Ayano brightly, standing up from the table and stepping out of his club’s little curtain room to converse with her. “Welcome to our little getaway, heh.”

“Hello.” Ayano greets blandly, looking around the room. The clubroom was littered with random photos. Some looked to be very old school photos before they had decided to make the school a little more lively with other decorations. Some were of students last year, 3rd years who were off to college by now, and of course plenty of hangouts with the club itself. It seemed… welcoming, but not of any use.

Fureddo chuckles, placing a hand on his hip. “I recognize that look. Doesn’t look real professional, does it?” He asks, tapping his fingers against his hip with a wry smile. “Can’t say that it is, Yan-Chan.” He admits, before adding in a quiet voice, “Can I call you Yan-Chan?”

“No.” Ayano says in a dead tone, very much hinting to Fureddo that she was serious.

The photographer snaps his fingers with a nervous grin, “Got it…” He then continues with his previous statement. “Well, if I had to explain my club honestly, I’d say that it’s really just a place for us to have fun. You know, chill out..” He nods to the snacks on the table, “Pig out, make friends.. memories.. All that good jazz.”

Despite Fureddo’s friendly demeanor, Ayano only frowned. “So no benefits.” She guesses, crossing her arms.

“Nothin’ but the keys to the vending machines and a free camera.” Furredo shrugs. As he does, Osana can be heard loudly complaining about how she would rather join a club that takes itself seriously.

“Valid opinion.” Furredo comments, smiling, before lowering his voice. “But an awful loudmouth, isn’t she?”

Ayano scoffs, “I’m sure she’d be just as loud if I put tape over her mouth.” She claims, making Fureddo burst out laughing. He clearly didn’t expect such intense sarcasm from someone who was usually so bland.

“You’re fun, Aya-Chan.” Furredo chuckles, nodding to a box on the floor. It was labeled “cameras”, no doubt for all of his nonexistent future club members. “Even if you don’t wanna join, you’re always welcome to come hang whenever.”

Ayano nods at his statement, “I’m going now.” She says, leaving the room as Furredo bids her a last goodbye.

__

Info-Chan: Do you think I should give her a little jumpscare on her phone?

Info-Chan: You’d have to record it for me, though.

Yan-Chan: I am busy.

Info-Chan: You’re no fun.

Info-Chan texted her as soon as Osana started talking about just how weird the disappearance of the Info Club was. Ayano was subtly interested, simply because she knew nothing about her “accomplice”. That thought, though, quickly became just as uninteresting due to remembering that she did, in fact, have a job to do.

That job involved learning this brat’s interests, according to Info-Chan. This had all better be worth it with how much running around and socializing seemed to come with this particular task.

__

“Welcome.. To my lair!” Kaga Kusha, the infamous science club leader, welcomed Ayano as he opened his arms, as if she were to bask in his glory. Instantly, though, he shrunk back to his hunched over position and cleared his throat. “I-I mean, the science club. Ahem. What do you seek?”

Ayano blinks, unamused at whatever excuse of a “personality” this was meant to be, and looks away. “I’m just looking around.”

“Mm.” Kaga turns his back to Ayano, focusing instead on whatever it was he was working on. “Yes, well, come to me if you wish to join. You’d make an excellent test subject- erm.. An alright club member.”

Osana seemed to be paranoid about one of their devices blowing up. That sounded like a wonderful idea. If joining the science club gave her the ability to simply blow up her rival, then this stupid childhood friend could be gone sooner than she’d anticipated.

“Loud girl..” Kaga huffed, frowning at Osana’s remarks. “..our inventions do not blow up.. Or at least.. They haven’t… in at least a, uh.. Two years. When I first started attending Akademi. It was my fault.” He assured Ayano, although this only proved to heighten her disinterest in the club.

Ayano takes a long look around the room, attempting to find anything else that interests her. She spotted some sort of android that a student was working on, whatever weird changing room they had, and a small circular.. Thing. “What’s that?” She asked, pointing to it on one of the tables.

“Eh? Oh, that thing.” Kaga takes a couple of quick strides over to the item and lifts it up, turning it upside down. “Right, right, it’s, uh… I think this is Homu’s little.. Friend or other. Who knows. It cleans the floors. Liquid, that is, so it’s no good to the club.” Kaga claims, waving his hand dismissively and putting the item back down.

“What all does it clean?” She asks, looking at the robot curiously.

“Ah, y’know… water. Uh.. juice, I suppose, although it might gunk up the systems.. Not honey or… well, not anything too thick and not anything too sticky. I’d say honey about draws the line. Maybe.” Kaga shrugs, “Just ask Homu, she probably knows.”

Ayano frowns, clearly disliking Kaga’s unwillingness to answer any of her questions genuinely. “..right.” She sees Osana and Raibaru leaving, and takes that as her cue to leave as well. “..I’m leaving.”

“Yes, yes, have fun..” Kaga waves his hand dismissively as Ayano leaves.

__

Itachi sighs, tossing a towel around his neck as he approaches the waving Ayano. “What do you want?” He asks in his intimidating deep voice, crossing his arms.

“I’m looking for a club to join. I’d like to hear about yours.” Ayano explains simply as Itachi subtly catches his breath.

“Hmm, well..” He turns to the rest of the club, who were still running back and forth on the track. “We run in the morning, swim in the afternoon. It’s tough training- not just any novice can join and get good quick.” He rubs the towel on his face as he continues. “No one’s going to stop if you fall behind, but if you can keep up, you’re bound to improve. Practice makes perfect, as they say.”

Ayano nods, thinking it over. Osana claims that it would be strange being the only female in the club, but having a bat at Ayano’s hand would be very useful. “Do you use any of the other sports equipment in the gymnasium?” She asks, thinking of the dumbbells, the weight, the baseball bat.. All of those were dangerous enough to be useful to her.

“Not often.” Itachi shrugs. “We used them more when our old leader was in charge, but she’s away right now, so we just stick to the simple stuff. If you’re interested in it, you’re free to grab what you want, but it’s not likely that we’ll bother with it.” He explains.

“Got it. I’ll consider joining.” Ayano responds, and Itachi nods before turning to his club and beckoning them back to the changing rooms.

__

“Oh, hello, there Aya-Chan.” Uekiya beams at the lower classman. “It’s so nice of you to stop by. Are you interested in joining?” She asks, smiling sweetly at her.

“I’m looking at all the clubs available.” Ayano responds simply, and Uekiya nods with a smile.

“Well, I assure you that the gardening club is a perfect place for you to not only learn about plants, but enjoy taking care of them in a comfortable area. All of us members of the gardening club can always help you with anything you're confused about as well. Anytime you need, dear.” Uekiya explains as sweetly as ever, resting a hand over her heart with a soft smile.

“...and, what sort of tools do you have in the shed?” Ayano asks, nodding to the shed just behind Uekiya. The gardening leader smiles wryly, but answers.

She hums in thought, “A shovel for dirt, an axe for any weeds or thick vines, clippers for the same reason… rat poison to get rid of pests and.. So on and so forth.” She shrugs. “Why? Do you need something in there?”

Ayano shakes her head. “Not right now.” She pauses, realizing that that was a bit of a strange thing to say and then adding. “I don’t think I’d need it if I haven’t joined yet.”

Uekiya giggles. “That’s right, isn’t it? Well, if you’re ever interested just come to me and we’ll get you a lovely little flower of your choice, alright, dear?” She hums, patting Ayano’s shoulder gently.

“Right.” Ayano nods. In a way, she can see why Osana would feel so comfortable with joining this club. Uekiya seemed like a people pleaser, so it’s normal for her classmates to feel comfortable around her, Ayano assumed. “I’m going to get to class now.”

“Of course. I’ll have to get going here pretty soon as well. Have a nice day, Aya-Chan!” Uekiya waves with a pleasant-as-usual smile.

__

Ayano’s first day of the week was nothing short of disappointing. She followed all of Info-Chan’s advice, and yet in the end it amounted to nothing. What was she supposed to do with her likes and dislikes? Get into her good graces?

But then what about her bodyguard? That damned pigtailed martial arts god? Was she supposed to just spontaneously gain every ounce of strength that she needed to defeat her?

Budo could be of help in that case, considering that he was the only one able to defeat Raibaru. But even with his and her own combined knowledge of fighting, there were so many strings attached.

Joining the Gardening, Sports and maybe even the Light Music club would allow her to walk around with something dangerous without being seen as some delinquent or someone with malicious intent.

Additionally, the Light Music, Cooking and maybe even the Photography Club could help her seem somewhat pleasing to her peers by joining in friendly, sociable acts. 

The Drama and Occult Club could be good for hiding herself, considering the Occult Club’s general reputation and the Drama Club’s equipment.

And of course there’s the Science Club’s items, the Martial Arts Club’s general knowledge, and the Gaming Club’s… assets? All of these clubs could be of use in some way or another, but is it really worth going through all the effort?

According to Info-Chan, Ayano only had four more days to figure out some sort of elimination method, but from the looks of it, four days just wasn’t enough time.

Ayano sighs, standing up from behind the bush as Taro enters his home. As she does, there’s a sudden chime from her phone, indicating that Info-Chan had messaged her.

Info-Chan: I see that you realize how much of a bust your first day was.

Yan-Chan: Did you even have a plan when you made me do all of that?

Info-Chan: Of course, I had plenty.

Info-Chan: You’re just so slow.

Info-Chan: If you’d picked up the pace, I would’ve been able to give you the rest of my plan.

Info-Chan: I guess you really don’t want to get rid of Osana.

Yan-Chan: Don’t antagonize me.

Yan-Chan: You’re playing around with me, aren’t you?

Info-Chan: I’m only being honest.

Info-Chan: Maybe pick up the pace tomorrow, and we’ll see what we can do.

Info-Chan: Capiche?

Yan-Chan: Fine.

Although wondering if Info-Chan wanted to see Osana suffer or herself, she clearly had no time to fool around and find out. If she was going to get anything done, she had to hurry up and head back home.

It was a shame Ayano and Senpai lived so far from each other. It always took so long to get from his place to hers. But seeing him get home safe was worth it in Ayano’s eyes.

[heyidkyay]

I guess I'll take this pain, instead of your name |

Part Two

Summary: In life, things changed. The boys you'd once grown up with were men now, and famous ones at that. The type that toured the world and had millions of adoring fans.

The five of you shared a shit ton of history. But you also shared a lot of mixed emotions for one of them in particular, a certain drummer.

A/N: Part two! The dreaded dinner has finally arrived..

Masterlist

--

“You did what?”

I blinked back at him and suddenly felt the rhythm of my heart pounding against my ribs.

“I told George he could come.”

I swallowed thickly. 

“Yeah, I gathered that much, Matty.” I scoffed just before my eyes darted about the rest of the room, trying to reign in the storm that was my racing mind. I still couldn’t quite comprehend it. “What I meant was, why.”

Matty didn’t give me an actual reply, simply stared back at me. It was almost like he was afraid to speak, to say the wrong thing and make things worse. But I didn’t think things could get much worse. 

“Fucking hell. Six months, Matty!” I groaned into the palms of my hands before I tugged at my scalp. “It’s only been six months and now I’m supposed to act like nothing ever happened? At my shitty fucking birthday dinner too! A dinner that I never even wanted in the first place, might I add.”

“Hey.” Matty interrupted me, his lips pursed. “It won’t be a shitty fucking dinner.”

I rolled my eyes. I was breaking down here, like well and truly breaking down, there was absolutely zero time for any lighthearted humour. 

“Not the key point I’m making here. Just- Jesus, Matty! Why would you ever think that it’d be a good idea to invite him along in the first place?”

To be fair to him, Matty did appear a little regretful even as he gifted me a guilt-filled smile. I sighed heavily to myself, pinching the bridge of my nose whilst he moved to wrestle an arm around me, I let my head fall to rest on his shoulder.

“I hadn’t actually meant to ask him, love. It sort of just... happened.”

I gave a faint snort in turn, crossing my arms over my chest. “Oh yeah, how does inviting my ex just happen then?”

“Well, I’d been mentioning it to Ross- this whole dinner idea of mine- whilst we’d been sat in the airport lounge the other day.” Matty told me, shuffling further into the settee, getting comfortable. “We’d been waiting for everyone else to make an appearance and I’d just been messaging Carly about it all…”

—MATTY’S POV—

“Reckon you could even make her some of those cake things she loves. It’ll be nice, everyone being there. Have some food, a bit of wine, karaoke even.”

Ross looked back at him, expressionless.

“Earth to MacDonald. You in there mate?” Matty called out, getting up close and personal as he invaded Ross’ space by waving an obnoxious hand in front of his face.

The bassist swatted it away lightly with a curled lip. “Piss off, Matty. I fucking heard you, alright? I’m just surprised that Y/n even agreed to this at all. I mean, a birthday party, really?”

"It's not-" Matty went to defend himself but was quickly interrupted.

“What’s this about a party then?”

Matty’s head spun around  at the sound of the newcomer’s voice, he fish-mouthed upon seeing Adam, Jamie, and George stood there. “Um.” He replied ineloquently. 

Ross just rolled his eyes, turning in the lounger to answer George, who’d been the one to ask, whilst Jamie and Adam trailed on over towards the stewardess, seemingly lost in conversation. “Matty wants to throw one for Y/n.”

With wide eyes, Matty’s alarmed stare darted between his two bandmates, because wow, had he already fucked this whole thing up. He coughed lightly into the back of his forearm, uming slowly once more before he caught the very visible grimace showcased on George’s face. He wrinkled his nose.

“It’s a dinner.” Matty reiterated with a scowl, wanting to show the two that it wasn’t just another stupid idea of his, “And it’d only be a small get together 'round mine. Figured she’d prefer it.”

Ross blanched. “Wait, you’re the one cooking?”

“Um, yeah?” Matty replied, frowning at the twat. “Why, what the fuck’s wrong with that?”

Ross just snorted. And George was quietly shaking his head down at the pair of them, which only proved to piss Matty off further.

“First off, Y/n hates her birthday." The drummer pointed out unnecessarily, acting as though he knew all, "So I very much doubt that she’ll be too thrilled about whatever you’re planning. And secondly, me being there will only add to the extremely awkward atmosphere you're bound to create once she realises what's happening.”

Matty clenched his jaw to stop it from ticking. “Well, I hadn’t exactly invited you yet, so jump on down from off that high-horse of yours, yeah?”

George merely rolled his eyes at him in turn as he dropped himself onto the opposing sofa. Matty continued to glare unhappily at him, leaving Ross to make a faint reply, “Can’t all have a get together and not invite G, mate.”

Matty had to squeeze his eyes closed, he’d realised that much.

Yeah it’d be fucking weird not having George there, but he was only thinking about Y/n and what she’d want. Seeing as there was no one on God's green earth that would willingly want to celebrate a birthday with their ex. Especially one they'd only just recently cut all ties with and hadn’t seen in over six months.

It had been one messy breakup, in shorter terms. And a head-fuck for all those involved, honestly. Seeing as they’d all grown up together, making an odd family of sorts. It was almost like having divorced parents now. And Matty already had that one covered, thanks.

“Not saying he couldn’t come.” Matty muttered out loud before he could come to regret it, he glanced over at his mate. 

George’s finger was tapping aimlessly away on the divider, something he only ever did when he was deep in thought or anxious. He did it before almost every show, during most interviews too. He’d done it when he’d first mentioned the idea of asking Y/n out to the local fair. And then again when she’d been late to her own graduation ceremony all because of their touring schedule. Even when he’d been impatiently waiting for her to come back from her first proper job interview- he had been more nervous than her for that one.

George had always been there basically, for every milestone in Y/n’s life. It would definitely be strange not having him around for this one. Her first proper birthday celebration.

“I mean, I’d get why. I don’t know if she’d even want me there, mate.” George confessed, his voice quieter than it’d previously been. “The way we ended things…”

Ross quickly waved him off before any unresolved issues or memories could get brought back up. “Look, I’ll come either way- it’s for Y/n.” He told Matty, “But G should be there too, fuck the awkwardness and all that shit. Once we’ve all had a drink, none of us will be sober enough to care about who else is there.”

Matty turned back to face George, who seemed to still be debating the whole thing. Reluctantly, he sighed, “Ross is right. It’ll be strange, you not being there, man. Y/n will know that too. Besides, the past is in the past yeah? ‘Bout time you two were back on talking terms again- messing with my head all this back and forth between you.”

George simply raised a brow in retort, and didn't utter another word for the rest of the flight.

—

“That’s it? That’s all that was said?” I quizzed him, my forehead furrowed from having been listening to every detail he gave intensely.

Matty shrugged a shoulder, “Suppose so. Yeah. I mean you can’t really deny that it wouldn’t be weird either way.”

I peered up towards the ceiling, tugging the sleeves of my hoodie down over my fisted hands as I breathed out a hum. “Still. Did he actually agree to it then? To coming, I mean.”

Matty blinked a couple of times and then sort of frowned. “Um, you know what? I’m not all that sure.” He let out a short snort and I had to shake my head at him, elbowing him lightly. 

“Only you. I swear.”

Sighing, I snuggled deeper into his side, knees drawn up into my chest as I thought the whole thing over once more.

“But wait, are you actually deadset on cooking then? Don’t wanna end up with food poisoning and mistake it for a hangover- not if I’m destined to deal with all this George drama too.”

Matty shoved me off of him harshly and I couldn’t contain my sudden bubble of laughter even as I face-planted the settee cushion.

—

The week leading up to my birthday was almost like a specially-made hell.

Not only did I have to come to terms with the fact that I was celebrating the one day I’d sworn to never acknowledge. I was also having to face George of all people. George.

I kept thinking up ways to get out of it without coming off like an ungrateful twat, but there weren’t many- none really, if my attempts to catch an actual cold didn’t work out.

Still, there were people worse off I supposed. Even if it did feel like the end of the world. 

My heart actually hurt every time I thought about it. So, me being me, I did what I did best and distracted myself. Matty came in very useful for this task.

We spent many nights in, feet up, tele on. Shared far too many bottles of wine whilst eating a shit ton of crappy food. He took me out to this new exhibition he wanted to see near Highgate, and I treated him to lunch. Annoyed him whilst he was working or on a radio call, and WhatsApped him an unhealthy amount of TikTok’s. 

That last one was mainly down to him having gained an unhealthy newfound obsession with the app. (The fans were to blame.) He had no clue how to properly use it, but he was alright with those transition things though. Or, gaining ground at the very least.

But now the dreaded day had finally arrived. I’d already switched off all notifications on both my phone and laptop to keep any impending birthday messages or reminders from coming through, and was currently on the verge of having a bit of a meltdown whilst on the phone to Carly.

“I don’t want to go. I really, really don’t.” I huffed to her childishly, falling backwards onto my mattress and sprawling out like a starfish. 

“Ah, come on. It won’t be all that bad! And just think, Matty’s gone to so much effort, he’ll have a right strop if he finds out it’s all gone to waste by you being a no-show.”

I pouted up at my bedroom ceiling, “You’re meant to be a supportive mate here, Carls! Don’t start with the guilt-trip now.”

She chuckled at me and then I could hear Adam somewhere in the background, mumbling about something or other.

“The nappy bag’s under the table in the front room where you left it.” Carly replied to him, giving me an eyeful of her armpit whilst she spoke to her husband over the camera lens. I tilted my head, trying to answer the question of whether she had shaved for my birthday or not. 

There was a faint scuffle and then the sound of a door closing. She exhaled slowly.

“Sorry, what were you saying?”

I chuckled, waving her off. “Nothing- you know, you look lovely tonight. Not going all out for little old me, are you?”

Carly looked down at the laced cami dress she wore, it was silk and all black, suited her perfectly, before she flashed me a sexy grin. “For you, always. But honestly, it just feels really good to wear actual normal people clothes for once.”

I quirked a brow, smirking. “Super-mum by day, slutting it up come night. A woman who can do it all!”

She winked at me, joining in on the teasing, before she rolled her eyes good-naturedly in turn. “You’ll know the feeling soon enough. Have an inkling you’ll be the next one of us lot to be up the duff.”

“No ta, even the thought of it makes me miss alcohol.” I grimaced at the idea then rolled on over onto my stomach. “Speaking of which, Matty better be pulling out all the stops if George really is gonna be there tonight. Don’t think I’ll make it through the first ten minutes without a drop of gin.”

“Dramaqueen.” Carly snarked with a titter, having just finished applying a bit of lippy. “Besides, it’ll all work out fine, you'll see. I know it’s been a while since you last saw him, but he took the breakup just as hard as you. Was a mess, in truth.”

I scoffed. “He ended it with me. Remember? What the fuck did he have to be upset about?”

Carly gifted me a gentle smile through the screen, one that forced me to look away. I couldn’t deal with any sympathy right now.

“Right!” I interrupted before she could get a word in edgeways, sitting up. “I best get dressed before Matty has a conniption. I’ve already dodged two of his calls this evening and I don’t even want to check how many times he’s texted me.”

“Alright, see you there then.” Carly replied with an airy laugh before she got up close and personal with the camera. “And remember this day is all about you, whether you like it or not. So don’t let anything, or anyone, ruin okay? Just have some fun. Let loose.”

I had to smile at her. “Will do, Carls. Love you lots.”

“Love you, birthday girl!” And before I could scold her for it, she'd hung up.

I made a soft snort and moved to sit on the edge of my bed, feet planted on the floor whilst I stared aimlessly at the wardrobe opposite, as though I was waiting for it to somehow throw something at me and tell me to get ready.

I groaned loudly, already feeling defeated, and threw myself back onto the bed. This was going to be quite the night.

—

“Thanks, have a good one.” I said to the cab driver, throwing a smile over my shoulder as I exited the car just a way away from Matty’s. The door slammed shut behind me and I trotted up onto the pavement just as he pulled away.

I’d asked for him to drop me at the end of the street, mainly because it was something I always did (wanting to respect Matty’s privacy), but also due to the fact that I was still very much bricking it and wanted to use the short walk there to catch my breath and better prepare myself. Not that it helped much, seeing as I’d spent the entire week in the lead up trying to do exactly that to no degree.

I let out a long breath once the familiar drive came into view and started my trek up it before I could convince myself to simply turn around and head back home, or to perhaps the nearest pub.

The stone gravel crunched beneath the Gazelle’s I’d quickly thrown on just before leaving- never having been the type to wear heels- and I allowed myself to just focus on the sound it made, pulling my mind away from whatever else I was fretting over.

In truth, yes I was stressed over having to see George tonight, but there was a much bigger part of me that just wanted to go home, hide under my duvet, and wait out the remainder of this stupid day.

My birthday had always been a sore spot, but I supposed a lifetime of them made up of bad memories would taint a day like that for anyone.

You know, I couldn’t actually recall one singular year where I'd had a somewhat normal day. There had always been something going on.

“Oi, you planning to camp out here all evenin' or you coming inside?”

My head snapped up at the voice and a reluctant grin crept its way across my face at the sight of Matty’s head poking out through a gap in the front door.

He swung his body out before I could even reply, already barreling towards me so that he could steer me inside, tugging the light leather jacket I wore from off my shoulders after the door had shut.

“Everyone’s already here, was beginning to think you’d bailed, sweetheart.”

I rolled my eyes, not unkindly, as I watched him hang my coat up inside one of the hidden cupboard that littered the hallway. He turned to me afterwards with a very happy looking smile and enveloped me in a hug. One I hadn’t realised I’d very much needed.

“Hey.” He whispered into my hair as I hooked my chin over his shoulder.

“Hi.” I breathed back through a slight sigh, letting him hold my weight for a brief second.

“You all good?” Matty questioned me when we parted, hands holding me at arms length whilst his warm brown eyes peered intently into my own.

I smiled back, hoping to reassure him of the fact that I was as I nodded. “I’m good. Gasping for a drink though, to be honest.”

We shared a light laugh when he pulled a glass of red wine from behind his back, one he’d obviously left on the console for me before he’d come out to find me.

“Figured you’d need it.” He said.

“Do I.” I gulped it down in a few sips, then thumbed at the corners of my mouth to dry up anything that remained.

“Guess I should’ve just brought the bottle.” Matty commented, an amused grin pulling at his lips, his gaze drifted between the now empty glass and myself.

I patted him on the arm before I pivoted and started to make my way down the stretch of hallway. Figuring it best to get it all over and done with now that I had a bit of liquid courage in me. “Now you know for next time, Healy.”

His chuckle danced through the air and I felt Matty’s hand slip into mine just as I paused by the doorway to the kitchen. I squeezed it as I took a deep breath. Plastering on a smile, I waltzed inside.

—

A laugh was forced out of me the moment I was through the door though- everyone seemed to be in there waiting.

Upon entering, I'd hastily been engulfed by a pair of giant arms before I'd even realised what was happening. I actually had to wrap my own around their sturdy torso just to keep myself from being barrelled over by the surprise attack.

“God, Ross. Let her breathe, why don’t you?” I heard Matty tut, his hand leaving mine as he continued on further into the room.

“Piss off.” Ross retorted without much heat, swaying us both back and forth with me grinning into the curl of his arm. “Haven’t seen her in months, have I? Reckon I’m allowed a hug.”

“Yeah, a hug, mate. That doesn’t mean suffocate the life out of her before the rest of us have a chance to say hello.” Adam chuckled lightly whilst he pried Ross off of me, he leant in close to press a chaste kiss to my cheek once he’d done so and greeted me with a short hug of his own. “You look great.”

I caught Ross’ attention over Adam’s shoulder and tried not to laugh when the bassist bulged his eyes at me and had them roll in different directions, silently mimicking his own head exploding. Carly caught sight of his antics though and swatted his shoulder in passing when she made her way over.

“Stunning as always, my dear.” She murmured into my ear as she wrapped me up in her familiar hold, I felt myself relax a tad. “Even for being another year older. What're you at now? Thirty?”

I scowled, pulling away. “Not even close yet, so don’t go pushing your luck.”

She merely laughed, giving me time to scan the rest of the room whilst she tugged me over towards the fridge.

A bottle or two of red had seemingly already been broken into and drained, and were left sitting on the kitchen island alongside a few tall empty glasses. One of Matty’s favoured bourbons had also been brought in too it seemed, likely from the minibar he’d had installed upon moving in. The top of it was still unscrewed and so I chanced a glance at the rest of the room’s inhabitants, knowing only two people here who enjoyed the ruddy brown drink- the host himself and…

“George! Was just beginning to think you’d flushed yourself down the bog, mate.” Matty commented wryly as he gestured wildly.

I had to swallow upon seeing the man himself wander in through the opposite doorway. George stopped short, mouth open to probably give a snarky reply, but we both seemed to pause when our eyes suddenly met.

It had been a long while, but even still, it felt like no time at all had passed.

Part Three>