#please tell me if you listen to any and what you think!!

[himasgod]

HEAR ME OUT. Sebek/Malleus/Silver bring the girl home/dormitory. Lilia: *draws out a huge photo album with the most embarrassing pictures* so when he was 3 he accidentally knocked over his potty.... *long paternal recounting of the boy's childhood*.

DIASOMNIA X READER

Where Lilia shows you embarrasing photos of the boys as children

Where Silver, Malleus and Sebek invite you to Lilia's house to formally introduce you as his partner… but Lilia is faster at taking out the photo album

You’re honored (and slightly terrified) to be invited to Malleus’s castle. It’s all cal until a familiar giggle echoes down the corridor.

“Oh~ what’s this? Malleus brought someone special~?”

Malleus doesn’t even flinch. He smiles, polite as ever. “Yes. I hoped you would meet her, Lilia.”

“Excellent!” Lilia spins into the lounge, dragging a wheeled cart stacked with five albums. “Let me share the legend of Briar Valley's Heir: Baby Dragon Malleus.”

Malleus sighs softly. “Do we need to—”

“Oh hush. This is important heritage. Now, look here, lady—this was Malleus when he got curious about human inventions. He once tried to sit in a refrigerator because he thought it was a portal to a cold realm. He was twenty. Just a toddler in fae's age. And his little horns were growing and he was getting stuck in a lot of places, so…”

You stare at the photo. Malleus is curled up inside a fridge like an overgrown cat, the door unable to shut.

“I was… investigating dimensional storage,” he explains calmly.

"He once asked some frogs if they would crown him. Some frogs! He told me "If I am the future king of these lands, all the animals will be under my rule." SOME FROGS!! In the end, we gave him a coronation with toy frogs. He got so angry that the real frogs were struck by lightning-"

You cover your mouth, snorting.

Malleus looks at you, utterly unbothered. “I have always embraced whimsy.”

Lilia beams. “Best boy.”

You barely make it through the front door before you hear it.

“Oh~ Sebek, my boy! You brought someone home~?”

Sebek instantly stiffens beside you. “Master Lilia!”

Lilia floats into view with the speed of someone who’s been waiting for this moment since forever. He claps gleefully, disappearing into a side room and returning with a massive album covered in glittery frog stickers.

“Oh, you’re gonna love this,” he says sweetly, flipping it open.

“This one’s Sebek when he was five. He was trying to prove how brave he was—stood on the edge of the pond in the backyard and shouted, ‘I fear NOTHING!’ and then fell straight in. Cried for twenty minutes because his favorite boots got soggy.”

Sebek looks like he’s going to combust. “L-lilia, PLEASE!”

“Oh, and here’s one where he’s yelling at a squirrel for ‘mocking the young heir Lord Malleus’!”

You try not to laugh, really, you do.

But Sebek’s bright red face and Lilia’s absolute joy at recounting every high-volume disaster of his childhood?

Impossible.

“I think it’s sweet,” you say, smiling at Sebek.

Sebek hides behind his hands. “Please… don’t listen to any more of his lies…”

Lilia smirked searching for another photo “I never lie. I only... embellish lovingly.”

Silver brings you with that serene air of a man who thinks everything will go peacefully.

He is wrong.

The moment the door opens, Lilia peeks around the corner, eyes gleaming.

“Oh my~ you brought a guest, Silver~?”

Silver nods. “I wanted you to meet her.”

“WONDERFUL!” Lilia yells. “SIT DOWN. I HAVE STORIES.”

Silver gives you a look that says, you can still run.

But you sit.

He sighs and accepts his fate.

Lilia slams a pink binder onto the table.

“This boy—this sweet baby—once slept through his own birthday party. We made a lovely picnic in the woods. He woke up the next morning and asked why there were balloons.”

Silver groans quietly. “You said you wouldn’t tell people that…”

“And here’s a photo of him as a toddler hugging a tree because he thought it was a ‘very patient person’.”

You gasp. “That’s… kind of adorable.”

Silver: 🧍🏻‍♂️“…”

“And this one—he was ten, and he fell asleep mid-sentence. He said, ‘Father, I wish to go out and explore the wooorrr—’” Lilia pantomimes a faceplant. “Straight into the soup bowl.”

You’re cackling by this point, while Silver tries not to die of secondhand embarrassment.

“He still does that sometimes,” Lilia says fondly.

Silver mumbles, “I can hear you.”

[grotesquevi]

‎‎‎‎‎ㅤㅤ the colorama in your eyes, takes me on a moonlight drive.

cw  #  18+ mdni, fakegirlfriend!vi, this contains smut at some point, tribbing, fingering, titty love, dirty talk, slight dumbification?, soft!dom vi, switch!reader, use of marijuana, drunk-kissing, vi gives you tons of nicknames, swearing, reader has a crush on a straight girl for the plot, vi used to date sarah fortune, collage, hockey au.

wc: 20,809 // masterlists // playlist

an # this was my first long fic and to be honest, i love it with all my heart so i hope you do too, fake dating is one of my favorite tropes lol it's long really so yeah grab your snacks and enjoy the ride?? jocks dont get tested for drugs in this universe bc i say so. if you read the 20k words, know that we are bonded for life. again, if you recognize this from before: it's because my old account vicorices got deleted thanks to tumblr fuckery. welcome back boo.

"can you pretend you want me?"

the air is thick at eleven o'clock, and violet tries to remember why she's there again, drinking warm beer from a plastic cup while she listens to her friend tell the same story she repeats over and over when she had a drink or two, even when it's plain wednesday — right. powder.

her sister wanted moral support to socialize, giving vi a hard time now that she was left there with a couple of friends from the team, with no sign of her sister nowhere close to be seen.

"sorry, can you pretend you want me?" vi doesn't really notice she's being talked to until you place yourself in front of her vision. the sound of your voice clearer than the music. "quick. it's a matter of life or death."

"excuse me-" her brows furrow in question "what did you say?"

"fuck- one minute," there's no much time to think about it when you're invading her space suddenly, even in front of her friends as you make her corner you against the brick wall of the frat house, one vi didn't pay much attention to until now — "pretend you want me for a minute, please."

it happens so fast she has no room to say anything, cause you're talking to her one time only to yank her away from her teammates the other in the weirdest request she's ever had from a girl, yet from up close, vi's able to look at you under the dim lights that changed colors: yeah she can do that, she can pretend she's into you.

she suffers from this hero syndrome that compels her to help people out, so she's playing the part by heart, with a purpose now cause why the fuck no? you're pretty, and the color on your eyes is nice to look at, takes her briefly to the moon as she's leaning against you, prying on you with a hungry look.

"who are you trying to seduce?" she asks politely, but her actions seem far from gentleness when she's leaning against your neck, nose catching on the smell on your skin as her hands find your waist.

"the red haired," you breathe out thankful that she's following you around, and your fingers find a strand of her hair to twirl it in your digit, slightly pulling on it as you speak. you're licking on your lips, doe eyes as a smile tugs on the corner of your lips, flirting, you are flirting — "the one with curls talking with the girl on a yellow dress. don't look."

yeah you're pretty. of course you fucking are, cause vi has no trouble in not looking, fixated by the softness of your skin, how pliant you are in her arms in a situation that turns everything that was boring in a experience.

"is she seeing us?" she asks you again "your girl. she watching you?"

she's being kind she thinks, cause that's new. not many girls came out of nowhere asking stuff like that, so forward, and vi is a girl's girl after all. of course she's going to help you out to get a girl jealous, in fact, she hope a pretty girl like you could get what you wanted by the end of the night, the curly redhead or whatever.

"yeah i think so, she's going to walk behind you any moment" you let her know, low enough so she can hear you now because she's so damn close out of sudden it gives vi enough time to press a kiss against the crook of your neck, that spot where your shoulder meets your neck and she can feel you shivering beneath her hands, because she never would do that on a girl she just met, one that she didn't even knew her name, but she's helping you out due to boredom so who she is to ever judge?

the scent of your perfume hit her nostrils and it really seems like it — that she wanted you. she manages to be gentle even when she's trying to look fully into you and by your smile, vi's sure she made it good.

"i think she looked," you stated proudly. removing yourself from her arms as quickly as you jumped in them, looking at the direction your curly girl left "thank you, really saved me there."

"who's that, your ex girlfriend or something?" she asks curiously, forgetting about her warm beer now rotting in the cup she forgot somewhere in between the acting.

"no, that's my roommate" you quickly explain, "straight."

"well that's tough, my regards on your death wish" vi nose wrinkles and her expression makes you laugh cause deep down, you also know you're doomed. "so she looked huh? congratulations, now you just have to brainwash her entirely."

"very funny," you roll your eyes in response "i'm playing my cards right, you'd be surprised."

"right" she teases, "so that's why you're asking a total stranger to act like a one night stand, good tactic i'd fall for it."

"we've shared ten minutes," and vi's holding on a chuckle when you seem to have a response for every single one of her comments, endearing "i think we're not really strangers no more, it makes us friends now."

"i'm violet, vi" she would assume everyone knew her name already since she's been winning game after game this season and hockey's a big thing for piltover's university, but you don't really seem to know her when you're saying your name as a formal introducing, weirdly enough, right after she just kissed your skin like a long time lover.

"are you here on your own, vi? cause my friends ditched me for hook-ups, and you seemed bored too."

now that she looks back at it — she should have said something like she was too busy, that she was heading home already or something like that. end up things right away before she got stung on the neck, but to be fair, you're fun to be with, you're pretty and she could use a friend that don't talk about hockey for a while, so she accepts, saying something about her beer tasting like mud, making you go and join her to find alcohol in a frat house already full of people.

it was a slip, a mistake maybe, but by the hour she's sure you're a long-lost friend, like a limb vi has lost somewhere in her lifetime. you're a little weirdo who knows about a lot of art and won't ever spend time, willingly watching any kind of sports. the kind of girl who remembers the speech from a movie, but's unable to name the schedule you took in the semester from memory.

"so you're an art kid?" she questions you, "i've never been in that part of the campus."

"yeah, we're pretty hidden" you admit, taking a sip from the beer you found in the freezer "jocks don't go to places like that."

"interesting fact, so you know i play hockey?"

"of course i know who you are, vi" you end up saying after a moment of silence, seated comfortable in the small cement bench as you smoke from the joint she invited you to smoke outside after an hour or so "but i have to play cool too, otherwise i'll feed your ego and you're not even the captain of the hockey team. i'm afraid to said i don't live under a rock."

you seem almost proud of saying it, and vi forgets about how powder had to drag her there, push and almost threat to get her out of bed when she lets out a loud laugh of pure entertainment — to be honest vi's going through a break-up from almost three months ago, so yeah, it's fair she regretted showing up at first, she don't want to see sarah, not even by mistake, but her ex is not around and she's utterly having fun for a chance.

"ah, you cheated on me," vi tries to act all hurt when in reality she's actually enjoying this random act of honesty, simple fun "that's bad girl behavior i'm sorry- trying to get a straight girl? lying to my face? you're truly a menace."

"shut up, she's coming."

"who, again?"

"ava my straight roommate- fuck" it's cute when you panic, passing her the joint concerned of your state "do i look high? too bad? look interested in me or else i'll cry. i mean it, vi."

and she's going to protest, say some stupid joke now that you know each other a bit more, that you've warmed up, but ava's there and you're greeting her all handsy and shit, having to hold on the laugh when you blatantly lie saying you didn't see her around until now. crazy little liar.

"she's vi," you presented her, and to hell because she has to act all clingy again, wrapping her arm around your waist only to pull you between her spread legs, chest pressing against your side as you think quickly, out of pure nervousness before adding,"my girlfriend."

it makes vi choke on the smoke. her grip tightening as she hides the puzzled look on her face and you give her that look of oh-god-have-i-fucked-up-my-entire-life? in slow motion — "vi, this is ava, my roommate."

"hi."

you're dragging her into a mess and all she can do is mutter a silent what-the-fuck against your shoulder as she greets ava with a smile, keeping you against her chest cause well: she's your girlfriend it supposes, and vi would never be a shitty lover, fake or not.

"nice seeing you guys around, you too vi, glad to meet you" and maybe she's too high already vibing with it, but vi can smell the flirting in the air when your roommate talks directly to you "gonna make pasta when i come home, do you want some?"

"sure, thank you ave. you can leave it in the kitchen counter."

"no worries. i got you."

vi waits until the girl's inside before giving you that look. the look of not understanding shit, of being clueless as you turn around almost begging for mercy, leaning in her embrace knowing you were the one who seek for more trouble in the first place.

and a hockey player should be aware of everything, so vi should've seen it before, way before when she's not really uncomfortable with you seated between her legs, unaware of the rest of the party already gossiping — what's vi doing with a girl like you anyway?

"please?" you try after a long moment of silence, and she already knows what you're asking.

"no," vi shakes her head almost at the same time. "d'you know how exhausting is to fake something like that? it's like having a real girlfriend, have you seen the movies?"

"vi," you cry out, looking back at her with puppy eyes. "i'll make it easy i promise, no weird stuff i'm begging you."

"don't you have another friend that could help you out with this?" she asks, furrowing her brows. "i helped you out, miss. but you're taking advantage of my good heart."

"most of my friends are straight, and the only lesbian in my life has a girlfriend already, ava knows them so it wont work" you explain making vi follow up on a story she wasn't really involved at first. "please, if you ever need a lung you can have mine, i'll give you my first born even if you want to-"

"and what do i get? seriously here cause having a girlfriend don't really mix well with girls in campus, you're ruining my sex life also."

"don't you have one person that you'd like to make jealous too?" you plant a seed on her brain that spreads like the black plague on it's peak time "c'mon, maybe it can work out for you too, think about it."

she stays silent for a while cause your words hits the jackpot. vi's mind drifts back to sarah, and she quickly thinks about the benefits of having a fake girlfriend that would make her real ex see that she did, in fact move on already.

"two weeks top, we can break up after" you beg again at her thoughtful look, and you do it so nicely vi's tempted to act reluctant one more time only to have you trying to coax her with another crazy argument "i mean it, and you can say you're the one who dumped me even, don't really care- please vi. two weeks. two weeks and then we say something like we don't match well."

it's weird cause once again she wonders: what the fuck is she doing there in the first place when it's wednesday? right.

"yeah?" you smile already celebrating at the lack of her denial "is that a yes? you'll be my fake girlfriend then?"

fucking powder.

by the next day, violet vanderson regrets being so kind to people she just met, almost a callout cause how did she become friends with you after just one night? you're exchanging numbers and suddenly you're on her phone and it's simple as smoking a joint and laugh in a boring ass party.

two weeks.

she just have to resist two weeks.

it's not like it's torture. not at all. maybe she's just being dramatic for no reason. dating sarah in the past has brought nothing but problems to her, so your help is also needed, vi has business to attend too and she can use a fake girlfriend even when it seems a ridiculous idea at first.

her phone buzzes on top of the desk before she falls asleep in the middle of microbiology and she lazily comes up to read the screen:

it's not like you're not funny to be around. cute even with the attitude and a silly crush on a straight girl that most likely will fall for you in the end — she could use a girlfriend, a fake one so she can spare the drama in her life.

with a sigh, she reads the first texts.

she hides the phone beneath the table to not be rude, biting the latex glove on her hand to get it off and text you comfortably. the taste grosses her out.

she can imagine the annoyed look on your face, the same one you gave her when she joked about not wanting to give you her own number, having to bite her lip as she prevents an smile.

dramatic. she's almost enjoying messing with you even when she should be paying attention, receiving a random poke for her lab partner before muttering a low — sorry!

dina's looking at her with her brows already furrowed, and vi knows how much her lab partner hates when she's not paying attention as their final grade depends on their work as a team, so she don't mind it much when she answers quickly before shoving her phone back in the pocket of her lab coat.

thing is, vi may or may not forgot about it later. you texted at nine in the morning — of course by five she's going to forgot, so when you appear with a radiant smile holding out your bag with what she guessed was full of art supplies or shit like that, vi didn't expect you to be so confident to walk into a practice like you did, nor being teased by her own teammates because yeah: why's a pretty girl seated in the benches waving at her?

too distracting, she warned you about it, but vi has the feeling you are not very good at listening.

you're there twenty minutes earlier and you're not even paying attention to what they're doing. too busy looking into your stuff to be even looking at her having to endure all twenty minutes of pure hell.

"is that your new girlfriend, vi? she cute."

“shut up and leave her alone.”

so of course after that, she’s taking you by the hand despite all the jokes, yanking you outside as she walks away from practice and got back to her motorbike.

“sorry for coming earlier,” you say when she’s helping you put on the helmet. “my class got cancelled and i was bored.”

bored. she thinks about it, because you’re literally walking in a practice full of lesbians and they all notice a pretty girl right away, yet, instead of saying something on that, she looks at you before lowering the face shield on your head and instead mutter once again — “you’re too distracting to come earlier to practice, 'told you about it.”

limits. vi's sure you two need to settle basic limits by the time she's parking on rims — she has to focus harder though when you're pressed against her back, arms securely wrapped around her waist without leaving much space between the two of you. she could feel the tension on each curve, how you loudly spoke to make her follow the speed limits.

so anytime of the day vi would hate coming to rims, but on a thursday noon and with the place already full of people from the university talking loudly, she has nothing to whine about, not when you're grabbing her by the hand, making her walk to the entrance fingers laced.

"do you come here a lot?" she asks curiously, letting you walk in front of her, usually she has a rather sharp opinion on places like that, full of pretentious people that tried too hard to satisfy the others.

"hell no, but they do have good food so i order for takeout" you admit before spotting a booth "sit next to me, sitting in front of each other is boring, 'sides we have to make it believable."

and to be fair with her own self, vi's deep down amazed by how easy you make it look. how unfazed you are for a moment when you grab her hand to walk like you've been around her from ages ago, like you've shared confidence for more time than just mere hours the night before, so it's not really awkward nor strange to her. it's getting natural.

"now that we're here i was wondering if you'd like to discuss some rules" you state before even checking on the menu "i was thinking throughout class, and i kinda believe we should make a plan or something, establish some basics like when are going to meet and shit, i know where ava's going after her classes, what about you and your golden girl? does she have a schedule you know?"

you're wasting no time in jumping into plan after plan already making a calendar up together so you can check on her free times, but vi's hungry as ever when she's looking at the menu instead of listening to you, debating if she should have the cheesecake for dessert or maybe ice cream since it's sunny outside.

"which hamburger did you try already? it was good?" the change of subject makes you stop making plans on your own to check the menu right over your shoulder, pointing out the one with pink bread who looks weird enough to avoid it — "you sure it was good? seems weird to me."

"yes, pay attention, this is important" you reply, looking back to the paper you're using to write down on their supposed rules: a paper tablecloth from the table you reversed to use on the white part. "rules. what do you think?"

"i can't think with empty stomach," vi replies trying to make eye contact with a waitress so she can come by and take their order "and i want to object too, because you said it was going to be easy, and doing this stuff does not seem easy to me."

"please we're organizing, this is not the treaty of versailles" it makes her laugh for a moment, and there it is once again, the same feeling on the party of having a good time even when you're being a pain in the ass. "it's not even that much, we just have to make our plans for the week and establish things we dislike; for example, i'll arrive to your practice in time, and, in your case i'm not ever ridin' your bike again so i can avoid having a heart attack."

vi's too hungry to defend herself from the sudden reluctance to her bike, practice leaves her in need of a nap, so she's looking at you with a clearly unpleased face until one of the waitresses finally comes and takes their order quickly.

"where are we going to spend time together? here?" she asks trying to be helpful as she thinks about more defining points now that she secured food "how many times during the week? i can text you my schedule if you need it, i'm usually free by five thirty during practice days."

you're writing it down on the paper and she can see your messy handwriting as you put down the important.

"do you have a problem with seeing each other everyday? try at least" you propose still looking at the written words for a moment before looking back at her — "an hour tops. not in here but to do random things, things that couples do. ave goes to the mall a lot, also to the library so she can study, if she sees us? i'm putting you in my will vi, swore it on my childhood dog."

"i'll tell you if i can't" vi nods, taking on mental notes as she's too lazy to write like you do "are you going to send me a photo of your notes?"

"yes. what about parties?" the points seems to come on their own as you write again "are we the kind of couple that party together and sneak out for kisses in the middle of the night, or the one that parties on their own because we're all about having private lives."

"party together and sneak out for kisses" vi replies without much thinking "we're dating recently, it's our honeymoon phase. so you're partying with me."

"we're also not falling in love" you state, casual as ever as you write it down — "i'm serious."

"we're not falling in love" she agrees with your words, looking at the food arriving to the other people "that only happens in bad movies."

"good. almost forgot," you also add before the food arrives, "put me as your lockscreen."

"huh?"

"your lockscreen vi, on your phone" you point out to your very own screen "give it to me, i'll put a nice picture, i need one of yours too."

jesus. she didn't have that with sarah — in fact, she always had the same picture that came with the phone by default, a blue gradient she don't bother in changing, yet she's giving you her phone willingly, and you're putting it side to side with yours, looking at your own pictures only to check which one will look better as her background.

it's serious as ever.

you seem to cover every single thing she misses, and by the end of it, vi's stomach roars before the food finally arrives and she's drowning in pleasure, devouring until there's nothing in her plate and you've barely even beginning to have a bite.

"what are you writing?" she enquires, trying to look as she's right next to you.

"you have to eat before seeing me cause you don't know how to eat when you're too hungry."

“you’re always bugging me” she rolls her eyes at the comment — “sure you aren't a bug?”

"very funny violet, now that you look slightly presentable, there's a girl looking at you" you casually state "she's making me nervous too, by the way. on your right, don't be obvious."

she knows who you're talking about before seeing her, cause sarah's gaze burn on her neck as vi, subtle as ever, look from over her shoulder only to confirm what she already knows: that's her ex girlfriend looking — and she knows that look from before too, that question in her expression cause she know sarah's wondering why she's there with a girl on the fucking rims? looking all cozy as ever.

"well ava's not here- what happened?" you're quick to pick up on the weirdness of all, how vi seems to stiffen in the booth, forgetting about her nice fries to instead, cross her arms on top of the table, trying to act unbothered "who is she?"

"that's sarah fortune, my ex girlfriend."

"you're shitting me? that's your ex girlfriend?" vi has to resist the need to give you a bad look before your eyes widen in response "your golden girl? you want to go back with your ex?"

"no please," she scrunches her nose, hating to give too many explanations "i want to make sure she gets i'm much over her, seen publicly with you so she will leave me alone."

"oh," you seem to understand for a moment, and vi wonders how you switched so quickly to insist on plans and rules, to leave them aside in a mere seconds and instead, look interested in her instead — "you have ketchup on your mouth."

the act itself is so simple when your fingers trace the corners of vi's mouth, black nails painted that swiped the red sauce from her skin before you leave a soft kiss in her cheek. one that makes vi gasp since it's so sudden, subtle when you're getting handsy like you did with ava the night before, body language speaking volumes when your legs drape over her's and you don't care about the rest, cause you're reducing your world to vi only and fuck's sake, it makes her oblivious to sarah for a moment, letting you look at her with those very same doe eyes, that horny look on your face you gave her when she was leaving a single kiss on your neck the night before.

"so your ex means trouble, i get it" you say in a low chuckle, cleaning the rest of your lipstick in vi's skin "tell me when it's too much, okay? limits."

what both of you don't really notice is that sarah actually left by the first touch, still resting in your fake girlfriend's side cause vi's warm — like the sun in a sunday morning, comfortable as the pillows on your bed.

it's not a torture, it's not fair to even say it as a joke. vi's just being dramatic, she knows it when she's asking for your weekend plans, already counting you in her own.

"are you going out with me on saturday night?" of course you fucking are.

by friday morning it's impossible not to think about you when you're on her phone every time she unlocks it. long hair, big smile as you look up to the camera, the angle is cute, and it makes vi stare at it during various times of the day, blushing when your name pops up on the screen and she’s forced to see you again.

you’ve been texting a lot since yesterday about important stuff — birthday dates and basic family names so neither will be reduced to misery if asked, but by twenty-seven minutes in, texting shifts in random jokes and casual conversations with the excuse to think about things you can do with her. together.

and vi does not protest cause despite being a fake relationship, she does want to be your friend, so in the end she sees nothing wrong with talking to you like a friend would. she's pretty much stuck with you for more than a week and a half, so she better get used to it if you're going to be glued to her by the hip.

you don't see her on friday despite your plans of seeing her everyday, but vi's there by saturday night, outside your dorm building ready to text you about how annoyed she is by all the time you're taking to leave, but before she could reach her phone you go out using this black skirt that got vi double checking for a moment, forgetting momentarily about her random anger as you greet her and grab her jacket to make her walk as she stands there for a good amount of time.

“c’mon walk, we have work to do ava’s already in your party” you say, dragging her as you leave no room to protest “my tummy hurts but i’m trying to give my best here, hope that sarah’s there too cause i’m going all in.”

lately, vi's been avoiding going out too much, tried to when she craves silence by the night, too boring now when she mainly talks and flirts when feeling adventurous, it’s weird now when she usually wants the solitude of a night where she can listen to her own thoughts, but you’re sipping on your drink, walking by her side as you tell her about a bad experience you went through high school with your best friend drunk-kissing you, and she don’t really care about the loud music nor the people.

it’s fun. she’d said it before, fun as ever when she’s saying hi to friends she haven’t seen since sarah broke up with her, laughing with some members of the hockey team as she has you close by; and deep down vi hopes sarah’s there too — you’re with her and she doubt she’s going to try and talk to her with the way you’re seated on her lap laughing with the rest, notice after so many tries, that she's ready to keep moving on.

“do you play poker or something like that?” ava’s looking at you from across the room every once in a while, and even as you are unaware of it, it's something vi's quick to pick up when she's leaning towards you, talking to you closer than before — “blackjack?”

“no, not really,” you reply as sevika’s mixing up the card deck — “i’m not lucky when it comes to games.”

it’s funny now that you’re pointing it out, ironic as your ass is pressed against her legs and ava’s looking at the interaction through the corner of her eye, cause it seems like it is a game. your skirt rises through your thighs and vi grabs you by the waist, comfortable enough to keep you there while concentrating in the game.

“here, come play with me i’ll teach you” she makes you get even closer, pointing out the cards silently as she explains you the basics of the game. and it seems like a secret, even you are eating it up as you cannot really concentrate in all the things she's saying. “it’s not really that hard, isn’t?”

“so if my cards add up and i’m over twenty one, you lose fictional money?” you asks to her contentment “it’s all you have to do? stay under or in the number twenty one?”

“well mostly bug, you got the basics. the important thing is getting a number higher than sevika,” she whispers in your ear. “you get that, and i’ll have her doing my laundry for the week.”

is it the drink that makes you bolder? that slowly blurry the lines of a fake relationship? you're aware ava's looking now, of the warmth of vi's hands against your skin before you're concentrating to play along her game, staring at the two cards in the table, fifteen.

"do you think it's safe to ask for another card?" vi seems pleased to get you understand the game, pointing to sevika's cards at the other side of the table — eighteen.

"we have to do so, she has a bigger number."

she uses two fingers to tap on the table twice as a way of saying she wants another card, and your breathing hitches when you see the number five being added to her cards: twenty.

exhaling from the tobacco hanging on her lips, sevika's next card is a seven, too far from the original twenty one as she seems annoyed by it, quickly suggesting another round.

"another?" vi turns to asks you like the fate it's really in your decisions, and you pretend to think about it for a second, nodding after— "yeah go on."

when it's too much? the music's loud, the drinks are nice and you've been craving that too long, the warmth of somebody else. it's all a damn whirlwind as vi's looking at you, expectant from an answer as you look at her cards, nineteen. against sevika's twelve, you shake your head in denial.

"too dangerous, stay there" you reply, and honestly its basic math when sevika becomes greedy and takes too many cards from the deck and she pulls a twenty two.

vi wins a lot more times after that. so much she's getting excited now that she's on a streak and people around start paying attention to the little game they put up in a dirty table, ava's looking, the rest is looking: it's just a rush of the adrenaline, one that mixes you up entirely, cause after being called her lucky charm, you're looking her and vi knows — knows that look already.

"permission to kiss you," it does not need much wording than that, but it makes vi's head spin when it catches her off guard, her usual rough demeanor faltering for a moment cause she's smiling right against your lips for a second and it's all the invitation needed.

ava. ava fucking ava's gaze burns in the back of your neck, but vi does not care about it when her mouth parts in a devastating kiss, rough and demanding as her fingers tightens against your jaw and she's angling you to a better and more comfortable position, tongue colliding against yours in a kiss you're quick to follow, a competition maybe as you push against her mouth and the game seems to go on without the two of you giving in.

fake girlfriends kiss, right? they have to. she has to follow the plot, stick to the plan. it helps you're on her lap cause her hand's are on your waist and she's pulling you closer, luring you to rest on top of her.

and by the time you're pulling out, your lips are swollen and vi's drinking from your beer now, joining the game once again like she didn't just kissed you dumb in the middle of a party full of people who knows her, like that wasn't the hottest thing you've ever experience.

it makes your hands sweaty, ava's blushing and vi has to pretend, concentrated in the taste of cold beer in her mouth, that she cares about winning the game as sevika's already drunk, betting on her metal arm.

fake girlfriends kiss, right?

right.

it haunts her after.

it plagues her mind when she already decided on the excuse she’s going to say after her acts on saturday: she was following an act, despite her shields you don't text until tuesday and you've been texting her so much before that it's weird now not to receive a text, anything at all.

she knows it may be lot anyway cause people started to talk about it — the sudden relationship of the rising star of hockey, the low profile girl that seems to get her crazy enough to kiss her publicly, and it's what she wanted anyway, what she agreed on.

sarah's away, your straight friend must be turned on as ever, not even a week and the plan is working, surprisingly enough. everything's working despite the strange sensation on the pit of her stomach.

she can't even talk it with her friends anyway: what would she say? that she accepted to be your fake girlfriend cause you needed an extra help getting your straight girl? that she's panicking cause she kissed you in a middle of a blackjack game? sounds like a joke.

she cannot avoid you either way, so by four she’s hidden in her grey hoodie, pushing the library door only to find you already working on your own.

"are you drawing uh-bones?" vi curiosity peaks when she watches over your shoulder what are you so invested in drawing "that's pretty accurate."

"why didn't you bring your laptop?" you question, furrowing your brows together in an inquisitorial way. "we're exchanging favors, i'm not drawing bones for good will."

"my laptop?"

"you forgot" you roll your eyes as she's sitting in front of you "we talked about it on saturday vi, about helping you out with this class where you need to draw, you're doing my essays of art history in return?”

and vi doesn't really remember when she told you about it, but she knows what you mean because she's falling behind on anatomy where she needs to draw parts of the body each week to learn them by memory, and she sucks at it to the point she's ashamed on presenting hard, humble work and pass it with the lowest score out of pity: when did she told you about that?

it's random because she don't really admit when she's struggling with a class like — ever. almost a secret she wishes to keep to herself 'cause she don't want people finding out about her weakest links.

"you remember about walking me home right?" it was just slightly blurry, pursing her lips together as she becomes aware of the lack of memories close to the end of the party "i'm offended, you forgot about the most important part cause you're doing my history tasks."

her drunk self it's intelligent cause your drawings are pretty good to the point she stares at them to a moment before adding — "in that case, you need to make your draw ugly, cause if it’s too good it won't be believable."

“i’m doing what i can” you roll your eyes as you pause your working “it’s our academic deal still going? kind of need the essays.”

“yeah, it’s on” and quite frankly, it’s a help she much needed when she’s looking at your notes to go and see what the essay must be about.

“it’s for friday, you told me this is for thursday- or your drunk self sabotages you?” vi shows you her middle finger before she can spot the smile on your lips, you're teasing her — “thursday okay. how it's going on with sarah by the way? is she giving you any trouble at all?"

"no, it seems she get the message" vi admits thoughtful. "people is talking about us, so i don't think she'll come close anyway. she's got a big ego."

"yeah well, everyone's calling me your girl" you point out, scrunching your nose at the nickname, and vi blushes at the news "so i bet she heard about it already too."

"and how's everything going with ava?"

"she's weird" you state “you think our kiss scared her? haven’t talked to her since the party, we talked a lot when i came home that night.”

vi chokes for a second before shaking her head, the kiss, you say it so normally — “uh, no. no i don’t think so- maybe she’s falling in love with you.”

“be for real violet, do you hate me?” you dramatically say as she steals a pencil from your case and you gave her a bad look — “there’s tension i think, that or i’m being delusional, there’s no in between.”

“is she here or what?”

“she’ll be in like thirty minutes, wanted to be subtle” business, a fake relationship is pure business. vi needs to remind herself the very same when she’s gathering the books she’ll need to start out on renaissance art she don't know a thing about, lazily reading titles as she curses on her own past self, knowing she hates doing essays or anything that involves writing a decent paragraph.

vi’s mind however works on its own when she's looking at your lips again, sitting in front of you before you can say something about being close cause she's already counting on the days before her death.

you don't want to talk about it, she don't want to do it either, so instead, vi let you dive her in an ocean of comfortable silence when she's working with most of your materials, highlighting important information fighting the need to close her eyes.

"resist don't fall asleep," she has no choice to comply when your feet rubs on hers beneath the table, an action that does not go unnoticed when ava's sitting in the table right next to the two of you: that’s thirty minutes already? how? "you okay there? i know art history's like taking a stab on the guts."

your caress from under the table don't really ceases when you talk, and vi's thankful of not choosing the seat next to you as it would've make her bewildered already.

"it's good to know at least you know how to make your deals" she praises, leaving the pencil against the table as she closes the book in front of her — "my brain is fried, i need to work on a laptop. can i borrow yours?"

she should get a badge, a medal or something like it that acknowledges her hard work in enduring the stupidity of having a fake relationship when your hand reaches out to her arm on top of the table to trace invisible patterns as you look up to her.

"i'll bring it tomorrow, maybe this time we could go to a cafe near here, the library can be sleep-indulgent" you suggest, "or are you going to work on the essay on your own?"

"tomorrow is fine, i don't have practice" she replies, and as much as she don't want to bring it up, she'd like to talk about your absence, about the kiss and the physical limits of your fake relationship, but she lets you push her around, demanding more touches as she cannot say no, not when your skin is soft against her and she has to keep this story of being your girlfriend letter by letter.

"text me when you're done" you say before showing her the draws you made for her anatomy classes already— "i'll have the rest for tomorrow, and you can fill me up on the next ones that come for the next week."

she brought this on herself.

you're everywhere.

in her phone when she has to unlock it, her messages every hour, her teammates ask for you, even fucking dina knew and that was a lot since she don't follow much on the uni gossip lately.

everywhere until you're all.

vi's perfectly capable of being an adult and not hold feelings for you no matter how difficult it ends up being. mainly because she refuses to be a cliche of any sort so she keeps most of her feelings on check, even when the night comes and she finds herself thinking about that saturday-night-kiss, the touches in a library, the sarcasm in your playful banters like a routine now after the days pass on by.

the world keeps on going, the earth keep it's course spinning, the moon is up in the sky and vi's trapped in the same thoughts after ten o'clock when the silence is loud, and you stop responding to her texts because you fall asleep faster than anyone she has ever seen in her life: how does she fight becoming a damn cliché when she's so near you all the time?

your activities are endless and she keeps up with every single one of them, going to the cinema cause ava got a date there, late goings to your apartment like your stablished girlfriend cause ava’s crashing and watching movies in her room, dragged her to the mall claiming you needed help to pick out some outfits as a friend more than a fake girlfriend, even inviting her to smoke from your weed now as you've shared a lot of time together by the end of the week.

and it's clear vi's on a car with no brakes at all cause she's doing important things during the day — so why does she stop in the middle of nowhere cause something little reminded her of you? something she keeps to herself like a secret and don't comment on it with no one else, abby likes to makes fun of her romantic fool behavior so she keeps it to herself.

that's how the coach's saying to her now, #08, VANDERSON: romantic fool.

friends, when was the last time she had a friendship like you? never.

she has never experienced a relation like that with nobody she knew from before. she don't really crave kissing on her friends, she don't struggle to keep the hands to herself. it makes sense for a short period of two weeks, and it's good. it's what she wanted.

after the week left? that's trouble for vi from the future.

she's trapped in your essays even when she hates to do them every single minute of the hour, yet you're drawing on her side while you randomly talk sometimes and you're not even drawing for her anatomy class now, you're just there drawing on things you like on your little sketchbook while she's invested in getting you a good grade and make sense of what she's writing.

it's a routine now. she wants it to be a routine. her grades on anatomy are insanely good by the same week and it's weirder than ever cause you talk with your advances with ava and she's reminded of the fakeness of it all, how you're after another girl and she's once again left with questionable choices.

the thing is, vi can still feel the ghost of your kiss on her lips, the tenderness of it. you taste like beer and she begs to the god the time for that moment where everything stopped so she could feel the soft taste of your mouth again, dissolve beneath you like she did before, experience it all over again until her she's able to control that aching feeling on her chest of having you seated on a skirt right over her legs.

and she cannot decide if the lack of kissing is actually a good thing or a pain in the chest cause while it keeps her mind sane, her body yearns for a different kind of contact now she's not able to ever satisfy, not without risking mixing it all up and make it even more complicated.

she has to learn how to fake it more cause she's fucking awful at it.

so it's hard. hard as ever when she spends time with you for the sake of it, just cause you mentioned coffee and she would follow you wherever you'd say without hesitation — even the fucking rims.

that's why she's there anyway, before you arrive since you seem to be late. she's used to wait for you now, you're slightly bad at estimating your time.

"what happened? why are you so happy?"

"ava, she kissed a girl yesterday, can you believe it?"

"she did?"

"i know right? fun-fucking-tastic."

now. you're all fun when you're sitting next to her, spilling details about last night when ava's knocking on your door and slipping inside your bed to talk about how she's doubting her own feelings lately; a lame excuse to be close to you as you keep going about sleeping next to her, the feeling of having her close.

no she's not jealous. she's never actually jealous of anyone, but it's the slap on her face, a reminder of reality she needed for the day. fake girlfriend.

you're her fake girlfriend.

"it seems you did brainwashed her entirely, congrats" she jokes with you, because vi's not like that, because just like when you talked to her the very first time — she keeps believing you're pretty, and she still hopes you do get the girl you want in the end, the curly redhead or whatever.

"told you i was playing my cards right" she recognize that cheeky smile as you place an small cup in front of her — "black, no sugar" you point out already knowing her order now after so many times of getting it wrong or trying to make her try sweet, weird things on the menu, "my treat. you deserve it."

"close to kiss your straight girlfriend and all i get is black coffee?" violet teases, taking a sip of the still too-hot coffee "i'm hurt i'm not worth even a little piece of cake, bug. i saw the red velvet one."

"you still up for tomorrow?" you ask sipping on your own drink content as ever, like it is indeed the best thing you have ever tried — "i'll make you the best pasta i promise, so good you'll be begging for my recipe and i wont be able to share it you know? since it's a family secret."

"wouldn't dare to miss it."

"good. my place" you remind her before checking on your phone. "ava's going to a hike with some friends until tuesday, so we'll have the place alone."

"i won't forget, weirdo."

"i know you won't" and before she can say something you're standing, leaning down to hug her affectionate as usual — "you're like, the best fake girlfriend to ever exist. you never forget."

maybe it's a game, maybe not, but she cant ignore how her skin burns now beneath your kiss. vi's face turns red at the sudden intrusion and she can still feel the almost noticeable pressure from your lips against her cheek in a quick gentle goodbye-kiss, fingers against her face before pulling away.

"don't be late" you say now at a safe distance, waving your hand "see ya' tomorrow, text you later!"

and vi's torn cause she does want to go to your apartment that monday night, but she knows, heart-level-fucking-knows, she won't be able to ignore it all forever.

it's fair to say violet would be happy just to reach the end of it in one piece.

"do you like it? be honest" you ask staring at her only to see her physical reaction to your so-called best pasta in the world, and vi shakes her head in approval as the tomato sauce seems to add the perfect taste of it — "is that a yes? please elaborate."

"it's really good" she says, but in reality, she's too distracted by the way you cornered her out of nowhere as she arrive, making her try your food from a metal spoon you hold close to her mouth "you've been cooking all this time?"

"went to the market place, it's better with fresh ingredients" you explain as she marvels at the amazing smell in the kitchen as she's there not even five minutes ago "give me your rating."

"four and a half stars out of five," she answers "i like that you put a lot of spices on it. makes it smells really good and it adds to the flavor. i dig it."

"four? are you kidding me?" you take her opinion seriously, and vi cannot help but smile at your reaction “what’s wrong with it? what’s missing?”

“salt, maybe some rosemary” she suggest, making you think before reaching out to the cabinets where you keep species “but it’s good bug, i liked it a lot.”

“try again” no that's not an act. there's no one around. ava's not near, there's no one in the apartment, not a person close by to have you pulling up an act. no, that's you all over. that's you being close to her willingly as you take the spoon to dip it in the casserole slowly stirring under the fire, placing it close to her lips.

vi parts them to try the pasta once again, the perfect amount of salt and rosemary added now to the mix — “five stars, you happy now?”

“yeah i am” you reply cocky “shit. your shirt, it got stained” you use the same spoon to pick up on the sauce that fall into the cream-white fabric, but the stain’s already there, red and gigantic.

vi don’t really mind, but you’re apologizing and suggesting her to take one of your shirts instead and she cannot resist the idea of owning something you have, even borrowed, so she's dragging her shoes to your room, slower than ever cause she's curious in seeing what it is like, the clean spaces, the posters and the vinyls she spend a good time looking at before searching between your shirts.

and she’s there standing six minutes after using that paramore shirt you love, holding out a bag of weed with an almost shy smile cause now it's different, now she lacks of the motives to touch you freely like she does outside, pull you closer like she's used to.

"you brought weed?" you ask when you pay attention to her, checking the plates before taking both of them to the small table close to the sofa.

"it's an special occasion" vi replies 'cause it's true, on wednesday two weeks will pass and the deal will be officially over now and she's sure you cooking pasta means that very same — the fake break-up.

"we can't smoke inside."

"then outside, clinging to the window. you cannot say no to me."

"the balcony" you suggest before pointing out to the food — "but we eat first, it's not going to be that good if we leave now, it's a rule."

her stomach roars so she sits in the couch with nothing to say, leaving the weed in the table. the smell makes her mouth water cause it's so good it deserves to have all five stars, she's not really used to have artisanal pasta but it's good enough to want more, so much she believes in your words now when you said it's the best pasta in the world.

pathetic as ever cause she'd eat anything you cook for her no questions ask and rate it four and a half star just to piss you off.

"amazing, this is restaurant level pasta bug" vi praises, and it makes her breathing stop for a moment when she notices the nervousness in your actions soon after, the sweat in your hands when she handled you the weed to let you roll the joint after you eat.

"glad you like it" you say to her words "my family owns a pasta restaurant so we take it very seriously."

"that's why, so you're like a pasta prodigy or something-"

"oh shut up. you really are so annoying."

a piece of her dies on your couch that night, using her hand as a barrier so she's close to you with the excuse she's preventing the weed to fall on any sudden movement, and you're not saying anything when you're breathing close to her hands and your tongue darts out to lick the paper.

easy, everything you do you make it look so easy. talent after talent you seem to do everything right and it's such a turn on it's fucking insane. vi follows you outside and she chuckles when she notices the small balcony you talked about, cause she thought it would be a nice, comfortable place rather than a small spot that makes you stand close as ever when your chest is pressed against hers and you're smiling guilty as ever.

"we can smoke downstairs if you like" the only thing preventing her from falling are the thick, metal railings and it could trigger anyone's vertigo, but she focus on you instead of the three floors that separated her from the ground, being so close has all the ingredients to make anyone nervous, a thing she don't mind at all cause it's just what she needs, have you irrevocably close "don't want you dying all sudden violet. it's safer."

"we're fine here, i got you" vi replies, and her hand holds the railing behind you, keeping you safe too as you light up the joint. no, she don't mind being that close, and you don't either, comfortable as ever when you're smoking and the moon hits the back of your head so she has this image of you she wants to hold by heart.

it's on her memories, rooted in her chest now in stone cause the white cast glows against your hair and its like a vision there in the middle of the night. red, glassy eyes you stare at her for a moment with nothing to say, and she can feel the burn of your gaze in her skin, digging holes whenever you look as if you're trying to trespass her very being as she stares at you.

it's a new look, a look violet have never had the pleasure to experience before, one she's sure it's reserved for someone else — nonetheless you're there with her, in an small balcony smoking from her weed, so close she can see the moles on your skin now.

"who you bought that from?" you ask, alone now even the silence feels different, sharper and thicker than ever — "seems really good quality."

"it is," in reality, vi spend a good amount of money cause she wants to surprise you with something nice too, not a gift but a memory you can hold on to like a hidden treasure, and there in the small place with the moon radiating its ethereal glow, the weed leaves that taste of raspberry in her mouth and you're looking so beautiful in a shirt stained with flour and a big hoodie, zipping it all the way up to the middle trying to protect yourself from the cold currents of wind, it's already an outer world experience — "a friend from a friend- it's a long story, but if you want to i can get some for you."

vi would like to say it's the weather the one who's giving her the chills, but the way you look at her makes every hair on her body stand on its own and she becomes a victim of the electricity, of the tension that wraps the air around you and her. you're passing her the joint, smoking from it as she holds it between two fingers, and she's reminded once again of the kiss you've shared with her not so long ago, the need to angle your face again to make it fit perfectly against her own.

her brain is melting away slowly.

"are you going to keep being my friend after this, bug?" the question lingers in the air and she can see how you stop breathing for a second, the slight movement of your brows from up close as you seem to think about it, makes her hate the silence.

"do you want to be my friend?" there's a hint of wonder in your voice, and vi would take anything you offer, anything at all at this point so unsure already when she knows your heart belongs to someone else, someone she don't want to replace or steal you from "after bugging you all this time?"

"that was the deal at first, i do want to be your friend" the admission leaves you breathless, cause she's so forward with it, eyes piercing yours like she's trying to get inside your brain and hear your very own thoughts — "i'll keep doing your history essays even if you want to. happy to help."

it's pitiful cause vi has reached the level where she'd do something she hates dearly to keep you close, and when her words make you laugh, her heart stops in her chest for a whole minute, blue eyes following the movements of your lips as you shake your head.

"i'll help you out with anatomy, i don't mind. you don't need to do my essays, it's just an excuse to hang out with you."

her knees fail for a second, and her knuckles turn white from the force she's using to grip the railing behind you, believing she's the one who's going to end up dizzy enough to slip and fall, leaning against you as your arms surround her tightly, worried already.

"let's go down" you insist, but how does she explain it? how does vi explain the need to have you close? she needs the excuse, the pretense of being in an small space to have you close without giving away how very into you she really is "i'm serious vi."

"you're growing soft on me or what? i'm okay, my leg hurt from training, made a bad movement" you buy the excuse, still holding onto her by one arm now, finger hooked in her belt as a way to keep her secured of any random movement "you're going to keep your hand there?"

"yes, i am if your leg's being weird" you state, and vi cannot act pissed at the feel of your hand in her pants, the mere thought already making her head spin — "don't act like i'm dramatic, we've been in way more intimate situations and i'm making sure your feet stay there in the ground."

so she's leaning into you, making no movement to push you away: how could she ever choose to smoke with you downstairs when a tiny balcony is all that she needs to have you like that for twenty minutes? even when she's blushing at your blunt words, she don't care to hide it from your gaze already aware of the red that creeps upon her neck into your shirt.

"what are you thinking about?" vi asks trying to be casual about it "is the weed that good?"

"when's your next hockey match?" you reply — "next thursday?"

"yeah, by seven" she don't seem to understand it at first before you suddenly add: "do you want to break up next week instead of wednesday? i dunno, its not fair before the game don't want to make us look bad."

is it so evident you're trying to gain more days with her? is violet imaging it all?

"yes," she would take more weeks if you offered them, more dates in coffees, bad movies in cinemas, random story times in packed frat parties "yeah i think it's a good idea."

"good," you seem almost relieved by it, and she wonders why exactly when she's so evident when it comes to you, under your spell every single time you say something. "we'll talk which day next week, no rush."

"why are you surprised by it?" vi can't help but comment on it, scanning your face as she blurts out the words without much thinking "you know i'd do anything you say."

you're always all over, always too close and she don't mind it at all.

vi dies again a second time there, suffering from these little deaths in the worst moments as the silence fills the air again and you're looking at her with that eyes she knows so damn well already it makes her stomach flutter at the realization.

"what are you doing?"

"nothing" you do so little to hide it, the constant pull on your finger tugging on her belt, the natural light colliding against your skin. you do no effort in look somewhere else, drinking in the details of vi's face cause you already know it. too many cheek kisses, to many caresses under the premise it's an act "i'm doing nothing."

"why are you looking at me like that, huh?"

"i'm looking at you like i always do."

"there's no one around to pretend with" you don't really need a reminder as vi looks around trying to search for some other person looking "no, bug. this is you on your own so please tell me — is this how you usually look at all your friends?" her question lingers in the air for a second, and it hits you when she speaks again with a devastating truth, "like you want them to be a part of you?"

"you're a friend" you stumble in your own words, and even when the joint has already turned off, she doesn't pay attention to it as your words reach her racing heart "i don't- you know i don't look at them like that."

"then please care to tell me how you look at them" she insists "cause that look right there is a look you give when you've dreamed about someone, bug."

and your skin feels hot, but you're good to ignore it even when vi's pulling you closer, finally erasing the limits to fade into you instead, arms wrap around your waist with a gentleness that scares.

"tell me to stop" she cannot longer resist it by then, the car crashes in her head and there's nowhere to escape as she's trapped there in the pilot seat. it's monday and she cannot fight the need to say it, to taste the sweetness on your lips once again, the pliant curves of your body, the need to be one with you, blend into a mix — "please tell me that i'm a creep. that you don't want me around anymore after this."

"no," you're quick to shake your head as vi's hand slide down the side of your neck, thumb brushing over the pounding skin of your pulse point and it's so sudden by then, the way her breathing hoovers against your flesh leaving a single kiss on the crook of your neck — she's been there before, faking a kiss that was now very much real ones "no don't stop, please."

to hell with it. she's all fucking in.

"i see your face everywhere you know that? i hear your laugh in every quiet moment, smell your shampoo in my sleep" fuck the weed, fuck the joint and fuck the rest of the world when the words slip from her mouth as she works her way in sloppy, wet kisses through the expanses of your neck, going up to your jaw "i think about you all the damn time, in the middle of class, when i'm training, when I'm tryin' to fucking sleep."

"you haunt me," it's a whispered confession vi needs to get out of her chest as her breathing mingles with yours in a warm mix — "in all glory. i wake up and i'm aching already because my skin’s too tight for my body. and i know... i know it's because of you."

“i’m sorry,” you say in a low voice, apologizing even when it's not your fault at all, makes her want to tear her own skin apart “i’m sorry vi, it’s not my intention to make you ache.”

“this on me, bug” she reassures you “i’m the one who’s been losing my damn mind over you.”

she wants the moment to last. vi relishes in the privacy of it, the look in your face when her kisses leave saliva in your neck, how your skin reacts to her touch now knowing it's real and on her side, willingly.

"i don't mind- i don't mind it at all, you see?" she asks, betrayed by the need on her tone, how her words lace up with a hunger you can recognize "you see what you're doing to me? how affected you got me?"

it's you this time, like you're settling the score even as you kiss her. and it's real. real than ever she believes, real as you are there on her lips, fingers tight against the waistband of her pants cause you want her closer, closer than fucking ever.

and it's messy but vi loves it. your kiss it's all teeth and tongue, desperation, need. it's your saliva all over, the taste of the joint in your lips she's quick to pick and it's just as soft, just as inviting as that saturday night she holds in her heart.

the thought is stuck there with her for a while.

vi finds out she did die a third time that night, and that she would gladly do it again cause when you ask for more kisses she bends like a willow, and it's the closer she's been to listening to heaven.

it's very safe to say violet vanderson has officially stopped fighting against the cliché this season.

you don't text the next day.

you don't text on wednesday either, and vi's sure by you're ignoring her by thursday already overthinking about being so intense with all this liking thing that was getting out of her hands. what she don't know, is how you really are spiraling into your own madness by the course of the week.

it was a pretty simple job at first: get ava. you put effort on it since you really like her, her sense of humor, her way of being — you really are into your roommate, been living with her what? six months already? she's easy to talk to, so pretty it hurts, and you surely have a list of things you love about her.

why it's so confusing then? if your feelings were se clear, so profound. it wasn't a difficult task whatsoever, and violet does an incredible job pretending you're the last glass of water in the dessert: why is so impossible now? making up excuses so your fake break-up don't come up until next week.

this whole thing was ridiculous, starting out for thinking pretending was going to be a good idea cause you get used to it, to the tattoo on her cheek, the foreign warmth of her fingers brushing against your skin, her kisses. it’s getting in your head now so by monday night, your last string of coherence jumps out of the balcony to end up asking for more kisses you crave then like no one else will.

it's a need, a feverish need cause your lips are sore by the end of the night, and vi's reluctant when pulling away. you want more yet it's not good, not possibly good cause this whole thing started out for someone else and you're unsure — do you really like ava now?

everything fall on it's own, cause by thursday night your roommate’s knocking on your door in the of middle the night saying she wants to see a movie, bringing up her laptop to place it between the two of you like a barrier, one ava's good to surpass when she's leaning to rest her head against your shoulder.

it's meaningless at first, you're concentrated on watching so you're unaware of ava's tactics to distract you.

"how it's everything going with the i-like-girls subject?" you ask at the lack of interest in the film — "any other revelation from the sky?"

"not really" she says, and the talking seems to make her confident all sudden when she's resting her head in your legs now and you have a good view of her in an oversized shirt you've seen as a pajama before "not any advance, i have interest in some particular girl now."

"oh. makes sense."

you don't know how to explain how everything shifted all sudden, but it's what you wanted right? what you plot from the beginning as ava's pulling her laptop to the side only to kiss you comfortably: it's what you've been craving for months, the soft touch of her hands slipping beneath your shirt, the breathy moans she gives against your mouth when you're gripping on her thigh.

so why the fuck does it not feel as rewarding as it should? you're kissing on fucking violet three nights ago and you only know her by two weeks now, but your stomach twist in knots at the touch, the intimacy of it — but with ava? the girl you've been talking to your friends about for like three months now? not a damn thing and it’s so unfair.

you kiss her again and she's a damn mess. she tastes like bubblegum and it's too sweet for moment but you force yourself to it. pull yourself together as ava's straddling your lap now and you can already smell her arousal in the air, the way she grinds in your leg seeking for friction.

get it fucking together: please.

you should love it too. drown in her, keep ava in your bed like you've thought about multiple times, but despite all your efforts to want her, you find yourself pushing your roommate away, grabbing her shoulder to gently peel her off your body to put some reasonable distance between the two of you.

"hold on," you say catching on your breath, and she seems struck for a moment trying to understand what's going on — "i can't do this."

"did i do something wrong?"

"no, not at all you're perfect" you admit shaking your head, and she's sitting now in bed, fixing how high her shirt was, aware of your rejection "it's me, ave. i'm really sorry."

"it's my fault- you have a girlfriend" you don't bother to clear up the truth cause you want ava to believe that. in fact. you want everyone to keep believing that "i should go-"

there's not a way to not make it awkward cause you just tossed months of crushing on a girl to the trash because of a stupid feeling you don't know how to control. you're realizing it an hour or so after being left alone in your room, door closed as you sigh in defeat: you need to see violet again.

so fuck texting, absolutely fuck calling.

you’re getting dressed in the middle of the night as you check on your phone, and you don't seem to care about how it's past midnight when your jumping on to buckle on your black jeans, hiding in a big hoodie that covers you from the autumn air.

no.

you hold your phone and your keys before heading out, not bothering to let your roommate know due to obvious events, that you're leaving to spend the night somewhere else; and the cold of the night does not bother you, instead, it's refreshing as your feet follow the path to her place on it's own trying to distract yourself from thinking, regret it.

it’s not very clear on why you carry your sketchbook and the shirt she stained on monday night now fresh from the laundry with you, the need to give an excuse maybe? hell. you should be kissing ava.

even when you avoid it, it's all about vi in the end.

it makes you want to punch yourself when you end up running cause you can’t wait, can’t possibly wait for it any longer after avoiding her texts like they’re poison.

"what are you doing here?" vi asks when you knock on the door too many times, making her grumpy as she lazily stands to open.

"your shirt. i came to bring your shirt."

"it's one in the morning, and you only came for a shirt?" she’s leaning against the doorframe, not believing it for a second as she holds the shirt in her hand "what's that?" — "your sketchbook?"

"yeah" now, in front of her you start to chicken out a little. her eyes look at the black book in your hands as you, once again, regret appearing out of nowhere so late in the night, the adrenaline seemingly washing away by the seconds "were you sleeping?"

"bug," her tone is tired almost, shaking her head before speaking again "you’ve been ignoring me since we kissed on monday, and you're here because of a shirt? tell me the truth. stop avoiding it."

you cannot hide it.

but you try to make up another excuse either way, pathetic when the seconds pass and you don’t come up with anything but silence — “i’m sorry,” you say, and you hate it cause you’ve been apologizing a lot for the night already.

“what’s on your mind?” vi’s crossing her arms against her chest, demanding an answer “tell me. why are you really here so late?”

"i don't know what else to do, i needed to see you" you're under the spotlight for a second, but the words come out before you can think about what you're saying so out of nowhere "the shirt's an excuse, my sketchbook too, i just wanted to see you."

"did the kiss scare you off?"

"yes. it fucked me up right in the brain" you let her know, and when you see the slight smile on her lips — almost a gesture vi tries to avoid, your heart seems to keep on it's turbulent ride with no return "did it too well 'cause you're all that i care about lately. you're my first thought in the morning and my deepest agony in the nights, and you've done it, i don't how. i don't care, but you've ruined all my plans."

the honesty catches vi off guard, her brows furrowing together for a second as she's aware of the strain in your voice, how this has come to affect you as much as she's affected.

"i don't care about ava no longer, you ruined her for me" it's almost like you're mad at yourself at it, shaking your head as you still blurt out your problems outside her doorframe "i don't give a shit 'cause i'm making up excuses to keep being your fake girlfriend. motives to keep you close. but you go there so openly kissing me when no one's looking and sweet fuck do you too understand, how there's no one like you?-"

vi doesn't let you finish when just like you did in her balcony, she hooks her finger on the waistband of your jeans now, using an small amount of force to pull you forward until she can close the door beneath you and finally corner you against the thick wooden door.

unlike ava, everything's slow. her hands wraps around your waist and you can feel it in her skin, in the tight embrace she keeps you in as her face hides in the curve of your neck she knows by memory. it would be so easy to fake you're not consumed by her, put some distance and never see vi again, but she's kissing on your skin again like it happened on monday, and whatever you wanted to say dies in your throat, moving your head to the side to give more space to her hungry touch.

"i'd ruin ava for you again," vi admits, proud of her own actions "you're better off with me anyway."

after so many kisses her teeth finds the right spot to bite and make you shiver, and she holds you still, right against the door and leaving no room to move without her noticing — broad figure towers over you and you close your eyes at the pressure of her mouth in your neck, the slight pain that comes with it that makes you moan at the contact.

"i'm trying to talk to you," you try to say, and she hums like she's giving you the reason "vi- don't be mean, listen to me."

"i am mean and i don't listen" she agrees with you, like somehow it will solve everything as she's too busy leaving soft kisses on your cheek before her mouth barely touch the corner of your lips.

her breathing’s warm, her touch almost reverent as vi’s hands finds their way beneath your hoodie and she's pushing on the lower part of your back to have you closer, until she’s intoxicated in you.

"i’m paying attention, bug" she says, taking a minute to look at you even at the lack of lights on her dorm room "keep telling me about how i ruined it all, how you're crazy about me- i'm listening."

"i was with her just now- you don't care?"

"no, i don't" vi shakes her head not even amused, and her breathing mixes up with yours as she's invading your space without an invitation "i don't care if you were. you are here now. you are here with me."

so that's how it starts, like everything's on fire and it slowly burns to ashes in your mind.

she knows the grounds of your body like it's holy terrain, too many hugs, too many times with you seated on her lap, gentle touches vi hold by memory until she's free to touch now without retaliation, when her hands are finally roaming around to grab you by the ass and squeeze it as she muffles any complaint against the hollow of her mouth.

and it's a kiss she needs to repeat multiple times more, one that steals the air from her lungs as your hand pulls on the strands of her cherry hair, parting your lips cause it's a kiss you want to carry under your skin, like a stamp on your brain. she deepens it like her life much depends on it, and her tongue — warm and playful, pushes against yours at it discovers once again the place she has experienced before.

there's nothing else to say: you're there now. you picked her.

despite all your efforts on fake dating, of being already whispering for another person in the beginning: you choose violet.

"what's in the sketchbook?" vi asks, fingers are warm against your skin, and the hoodie you took to protect yourself from the cold is no longer necessary when it now lays on the floor. vi's tank top is quick to follow, and you can't help but stare at her for a good moment, the heartbeats on your chest devastating as usual.

it's intimate. you've had sex before, pretty girls that stole your breath even but that's a whole different level, you've never experience that feeling in your chest, that need in your hands when they touch bare skin and you're greeted with a crave that goes far beyond sex and the act of it.

"drawings. drawings of you from when we studied together."

shattering. she's gentle cause vi wants to savor it: what's the point in the rush? she's taking her time in touching, in pulling your shirt upwards little by little. she kisses you until your lips are puffy and you are clouded by a haze of lust as you try to mark the skin of her chest, yet it's a fight, cause she's the one who wants to taste you first, the one who wishes to blow your mind before anything.

vi didn't plan any of it — in all reality, she tried to fight it as much as she could, but you're letting her walk you down to her messy bed, wrinkled sheets still holding on her body heat when you're resting against them and she lets you win. vi's placing herself between your legs and the space is small, but once again small spaces are unexpectedly good cause she has no other option but to be all over you, helping you get off your pants as they are tossed close to your hoodie.

"touch you-" she struggles to ask "can i touch you?"

"please," it's a dangerous feeling what installs in vi’s chest. once again, she's utterly affected by the color of your eyes, how they take her to a brief journey to the moon, the plea in your tone that makes her forget about the lack of messages the last two days, how you suddenly distanced yourself because you were scared. "stop asking and please just touch me already."

it makes her feel desired when her fingers touch you from over the underwear and you're already wet, the fabric clinging to your lips already soaked and ready for her, it makes vi breathe out heavily as she's aware of how debouched she can get you by some kisses, words.

you're her favorite nightmare, cause she has dreamed about that very moment before but it does not come near by how devastating you really are. a force of nature as vi's making your underwear to the side, so sensitive when she's just using a couple of fingers to spread you open, have a good sight of your pussy as she fights the idea to go down on you already.

her mouth waters as you shiver, unable to hold the reaction in as she seems to be lost in the soft texture of soaked pussy. she rubs against your clit slow at first like she's letting you get used to her touch first before she's taunting your entrance with a couple of digits.

"you're really tight huh?" she asks when her fingers begin to push just slightly, making your breathing get stuck in your throat as you whine at the intrusion — "there bug, breathe. can't finger-fuck you like this. let yourself feel good, soak your pretty panties for me.”

“gods- vi” you moan, and the sound itself is so hot she stares at you for a minute “i can take your fingers ah- i can.”

“i know princess, i know you can” she smiles at your need to please, to do and be reminded how good you’re doing “let your greedy hole relax for me so i can fill it out f’you, you feel so warm already.”

it’s chaotic and vi wished she put on a towel beneath before, a pain she quickly forgets about when you’re putty in her fingers, walls clenching against her intrusive fingers as she shoves them in one more time, pulsating cunt opening and getting used to her as your back arches against the bed presenting to her wide open.

she uses a hand to keep you there. spreaded you like she wants you to be, even when you’re shaking involuntarily and her fingers withdrawal entirely before she pushes them back again knuckles-deep in your tight channel.

“suck me back in, get used to me” she says as your pussy makes room for her slender digits, filling you just right until they curve to hit on a special spot she discovers in awe— “there it is- there baby? does it feel good there?”

and your tits bounce with each thrust, your arousal gathers in the palm on vi’s hand, and she’s drunk already, drunk in you and the sounds you make, your incoherent words asking for more, begging to be fucked harder. you move against her fingers and your cunt makes this filthy sound it makes her moan already dampening her own underwear.

“yes- fuck yes” you moan, your arms can barely hold you up now as you fall against your elbows, and vi can feel the moment you squeeze her fingers, the inconsistency on the movements of your hips — “feels s’good vi, filling me up so good.”

it’s pride that installs in her chest, helping you move since you’re too dumb to function from yourself: it’s so fucking nice since you’re barely holding in by a thread, the mount of her hand brushing against your clit and she knows you’re close, but instead of giving you time to breathe, play with you a little, she’s too desperate, yanking at the fabric of your bra just get rid of it.

her mouth closes around your breast, and the sweat on your skin feels salty, aphrodisiac as she marks the skin sucking until it’s a whole different color, harshly biting on the stiffed peak of your nipple.

“you gonna cum?” she asks, breathing against your skin “god-you’re squeezing me so tight-”

the pain mixes up deliciously, and you can’t speak nor gather words in your mouth who can let vi know how close you really are, but she reads it in your body language, in the way your legs shake and you really struggle to keep them apart.

“keep them spread let me see you,” her tone is gentle even when she’s destroying you at it’s finest, as her fingers curl inside your sensitive cunt and she rubs inside that spot inside of you she's very much aware of now — “if you’re going to cum, you might as well do it good.”

her leg pushes yours open, and you’re trapped there beneath her weight, her bites on your skin that will leave marks that won’t come out for days. your moans get louder by the seconds and it’s that thing you need to let the orgasm pour in, hot lava against your skin as your body tenses up and you’re shaking in her hands.

and vi picks it up in no time, fingers nestled inside you, moving them ever so slightly as you come undone. the sight itself makes her sure she’s leaking against her underwear, the sweat on your skin that makes you glow against the barely illuminated sheets messier than ever.

"hush," vi says seconds after as your pleasure subsides, not giving you much time to recovery after it "don't want the whole building to hear-"

her fingers, wet from your arousal, trace the corners of your mouth, the seam of your lower lip as a silent invitation. you make delicious sounds, yet they’re so loud vi ends up shoving the same fingers she fucked you with now in your mouth trying to muffle them a little.

and it’s inviting even, the vibrations your sweet moans make as she pushing her digits further, making you taste yourself as she finally shuts you up.

vi's cunt's already slick when she's pulling on her underwear away, makes you switch places with her as her head falls against the pillows now for a second when you're placing yourself between her parted legs, tangled limbs as you settle your cunt against her's and: hell.

her fingers push against your throat making you choke on them, and you can hear the sound vi makes when you move on top of her again, pussy already glistening with arousal as it rubs deliberately against her's, almost a kiss as you can feel when every inch of her is already throbbing against you.

swollen clit, schlick sounds fill the air — it's filthy, almost diabolical when your sweat mixes up with her, when body fluids are not gross and instead, you crave every inch you can get.

"fuck peach, you're so wet," vi mutters under her breath, and a hand slips to grope your tits, rolling the stiffed nipple between her fingers "ah- s'fucking crazy how your pretty pussy was made to fit mine."

her words slur together and it makes you smile, makes you feel good as her hands force you to move on top of her, only adding to the sensation when her finger goes further down now to massage your clit, braindead as your movements become more erratic by the seconds, uncontrolled.

"come on baby, you're doing so good" vi praises, encouraging you to keep on moving as her digits slide so fucking easy between your legs, allowing them to touch how needy she makes you, how fast she's able to reduce you to pieces — "you gonna cum all over my cunt, baby? s'that it?"

vi loves every minute, the moans that fill the air and you try so hard to muffle, the distortion on your face as you force yourself to keep moving even when your legs shake in response, your body gives up and you function in autopilot.

drool slides down her arm, using her fingers to slowly fuck your mouth with them, an smile stirs vi's lips upwards as she can see the white traces of your arousal mixing up with her own in a delicious mix between your legs, unable to answer her questions as you're too busy being choked on her digits.

"use your words, love" it's the fucked out expression that gets her, hole already clenching around nothing as strings of white cum connect you to her "you can do it, you're a good girl."

"sweet fuck-vi," you breathe out when she's withdrawing her fingers out, and your voice is rougher now than ever, raspy as saliva drips down your chin. you're much aware of the lewd sound of her cunt in constant contact with yours, holding her hand before lacing your fingers with vi's as she encourages you to keep on moving.

you need an anchor.

it's slow and torturing, the greatest cruelty as each roll of your hips bring you deliciously close to the edge, little by little as the wet from vi's arousal gathers in your thighs, the expanses of your cunt — fuck you're going to cum like this.

theres silence in the room now, but violet appreciates it more than ever cause she can listen to your hitched breathing, lips swollen now from how much you've been using them, the slick, lewd sounds of your pussy against her own.

her vision fade to black when she cums, gripping on your waist like she needs to hold herself from flying to the damn moon, moving you until you're shaking on top of her and your eyes swell up with tears before you cum too, oversensitive when you pant out her name as she holds you close.

"i got you," she whispers, but she don't stop moving you against her soaked, sensitive pussy in response — "i got you peach. it's okay m'not going anywhere."

it means more than just a promise, more than just something tossed to the air as she lets you rest on top of her, ten minutes until she's moving you to switch places once more, making you lay on her pillows now comfortable.

and you look at her searching for an explanation, but vi already has one when she's leaving soft kisses agains your lower belly.

"gonna try how good we taste together, it will only be a moment."

fake girlfriends right? what a fucking joke.

it's awfully good.

dangerously good when you're trapped with vi the next days. a good way of saying it cause she got you in her practices now that she settles with the team you really are off-limits, on your free times and by night when you whine about how small her bed is for two persons now that you spend time there in her room.

it's been three days and no one's surprised by the kisses, by the touches, by the way she cannot be seen without you around, and it could be nothing to the rest already used to it, but to vi's a damn rollercoaster, one she's experiencing like never before.

she's allowed to stole kisses now, to touch — and she' so clingy about it.

ellie makes fun of her and abby won't shut up when she sees the two of you in the same room, but vi likes it. makes her feel weirdly good. so much she don't think about her on and off story with sarah, how she's been hearing rumours all over because you're on her mind.

she becomes addicted to your kisses by friday, and it don't take long but she wants you in her arms every second of the day she's not expected to do something and it's like before, surprising enough is like when you dragged her to the rims, when you bring her complex coffees with weird smells she hates.

she even spends the weekend latched in your back even when you explain you have to study — "i'll help you out, i swear" she promises, but she does nothing but distract you when she's sitting on top of you, hands kneading the gloves of your ass until you're leaving your books unattended and vi smiles cause she has your attention to her now.

it was good, faking it. slide in the stole caresses, the kisses who where to mislead others — but that's the real thing, better than ever when no one knows you're melting there cause she kisses you on top of her motorbike you're still reluctant to ride, making you hug her as the wind blows your hair in what you call bike therapy and there's no other place she needs to be, another person she needs around.

she makes you part of her life with an ease that was already there, an small extra step as she goes to find you right after classes, giving you at least fifteen good reasons about how you should be spending the afternoon with her instead of drawing and working there on your own.

yes. violet vanderson is so in love with your mess. your painted hands when you get so into drawing, the images of her in your sketchbook she had no idea you were doing but they're etched on each page until there's no more space.

it's a silent agreement. she don't have to say anything cause you understand her, and vi gets you too. a sense of belonging she never had until that moment.

it's a rare side she barely shows, with you only. she's always a bit distant from the rest, reserved, but on the intimacy of your shared moments she seems nothing but the contrary — constantly craving for attention, for love and whispered words of wanting.

it's weirdly good until the catharsis comes on sunday, when vi's picking you up to go to this party you don't really want to go on the first place. the music's loud, and you crave to see a good movie in your room beneath at least five blankets, but you're by her side cause you know it's a party in honor to the hockey team, a way of wishing good luck since they've won every single match in the season now with a streak of gold.

and you pay no attention to it, but sarah's there too, and unlike any other time she's there cause she wants to talk to vi now that she's cozy enough to call you her girl so blatantly, mainly because she's mad since she can't believe vi would choose anyone over her.

it's not her fault either — sarah's in love and love hurts like a dagger. so when you say you're going to the bathroom, she's already talking to her without a previous warning.

"violet," she greets with a smile, looking extra beautiful tonight cause she puts effort on her look. she wants to make an impression, want her ex to remember her in the best moments they shared together "how are you? haven't seen you for a while."

things are never simple. love constantly hurts. sarah knows it by herself when she's leaning too close, when she's touching vi's arms as the conversation goes on by the minutes.

"i miss you" she says after, and vi has been there before. in the sweet words and the whispered lies "this thing you got with her- are you serious about it? you really like her?"

her words are low, low enough so only vi could hear, close so she's punched by the smell of her shampoo, long nails scratching on her skin — sarah's going to kiss her if she allows her to keep all touchy like that. vi can feel the mint on her breath colliding in her skin and it's wrong, wrong now since she don't want it at all, cause sarah's far from her mind now, long gone for months and a person she wants to avoid.

and vi's about to push her away, explain how yes she's very serious about you, but she's pushed in an awkward kiss instead that paralyzes her for a moment, makes her brain stop for a long second cause she's not expecting it, the sudden contact of her ex girlfriends hands as she steals a kiss, how random all was.

"what the fuck," she breathes out when she's pushing sarah away, but it's clearly late when she can spot you from the corner of her eye already leaving the party, not really looking in her way as you exited the house — "what the fuck was that?"

she don't bother to hear sarah's explanation when she's too busy running after you, she don't need one. things are long finished, and vi wants to explain that to you when the cold weather from outside's making her skin shiver.

"wait-" she calls you out — "fuck, wait up!"

from where you looked, this was far beyond a simple interaction. after all the times you heard she wanted to make clear she was over sarah you know there's a lot of history. she's there looking hot as ever as she bats her eyelashes and leans dangerously close to vi's mouth — and you're looking like a fool.

it's a punch in the face, one that feels deeper than any wound as vi don't seem to notice until you're leaving the place, heart pounding all over the place as you can feel the shame on your body like an old friend: she's there, kissing on sarah fortune when minutes before she was with you already handsy?

the night grows silent as you quickly walk away. like a shame walk back home cause there's no fucking way you're riding her motorbike ever again.

is it betrayal? the two of you never settled anything more than a fake relationship — or maybe, it's the utter fear in the pit of your stomach cause you like her more than you expected?

"please- don't leave-" vi says catching on her breath "sarah there- it's not what you're thinking."

"it's okay vi. you don't owe me any explaining" you talk without much emotions on your face: you should have insisted on movie night.

"i do. you know i do" she's quick to reply, shaking her head in denial "i care about what you think, you're so damn important to me, sarah she's-"

"listen. you're not my girlfriend" you remind her, and in all sense of the word, she isn't. you never talked about being in a relationship with her, neither did vi mentioned it in the four days of paradise "it's better if we keep things like they were before, we're at the perfect time until it's too late. i'm fake dating you."

vi has experienced pain before yes. the air being stolen from her lungs, but your words sink in like a finger twisting against a bullet hole in her shoulder, cold as ever as her brows furrow in response — you're too pissed to listen.

"this is a misunderstood," she insists, "you know it's not like that. this is real. what we have is real, please just- hear me."

"we've made the limits too blurry," you try to explain, and in the cold air you shiver against the cold weather of autumn and she wants to give you her scarf to protect you from the air knowing you'll say no, standing at a safe distance in front of you — "you kissing on sarah it's what we needed vi. the push we were lacking to break this fake thing. i can't hold it no longer, we've fucked it up."

"bug. don't do this."

"it's the agreement we had first place," you interrupt, already annoyed as you shove your hands inside the pockets of your jacket and vi can't stand it. can't stand the disappointment in your voice as you speak — "we broke the rules we settled in the first place. i like you more than i ever know, i'm going to your practices, riding your bike- it's not what we agreed upon."

"it wasn't real. the rules they were never real" there's desperation in her tone vi does not care to hide anymore, taking a step closer to you. "don't tell me you believed in them, i broke them the very same day we settled them. they are not real, never counted."

it's almost like she's saying it over and over again to calm down the fire on her chest, the flames that rises in her lungs as she breathes in the cold air sober than ever.

"you have things to talk with your ex still vi, and i'm not really good in the equation. i don't want to be involved in whatever you have going on with her, it's your business. make up your mind first."

she wants to insist, make you stop right there even when she's close to have a frostbite to this point, freezing cold as you, cold as ever, continue your way and leave her standing her, trying to make sense of it all.

you never fucking listen.

so you disappear and it's like a dream all over when she's going back to the house, expectant of waking up in her wrinkled sheets with you already using more than half of the bed.

but vi never wakes up and she knows you're right at some point.

she needs to talk with sarah.

you'd catalogue it as a supersonic sunburst.

a ray of sunshine coming up from between the clouds that blinds you momentarily, fast like the speed of sound — supersonic.

she's like a supersonic sunburst.

violet vanderson's able to crawl under your skin to live there with you without knowing, and when she's missing, there's a hollow inside you even you were perfectly great before when you had no idea of her oh so important existence.

it's nothing to the point it becomes everything because you miss her too. scared of actually fall in, of let her know the way to your heart.

news are fast cause by the next day people in the party's already commenting on what happened: vi kissing her ex? it's all they talk about in whispered confessions when you're around, walking in campus in black shades cause you refuse to let people think you're even slightly affected by her and whatever relationship she had now with sarah.

you let them speak due to your lack of good choices when it comes to picking a fake girlfriend with a reputation that followed. it was a part of the deal and you're taking your part in it. fair.

even ava seems to take pity of you when she's talking to you again, and it's a huge relieve cause you were sure she was going to politely ask you to find for another place to live when in reality, she's offering you from the pizza she ordered like a truce, being all sensitive when she's asking about your emotional status as she heard things.

everybody seems to add something new, even yourself as you're aware on the late news that spread throughout the campus by tuesday morning: vi's back with sarah again, she's saving her a seat for the thursday game, they were together in the rims.

and loneliness suits you better. you like to think about that cause you're forgotten and left out this love triangle like you asked before, and it's funny cause you agreed in something entirely different in the beginning, but you don't get the pretty girl in the end, and vi, even when she’s so invested in pushing her ex away, ended up gaining the whole contrary.

four days of heaven it's not near enough to cover the time you needed with her, but your pride it’s too big to let down so when she stops texting you, you subtly understand it’s because she got someone new: some things are better left unsaid.

you crave to be loved, to be need and wanted, but to be loved is to be bare under the naked eye: three weeks with violet and you’re what? crushed because her pretty ex is back? better to have a broken heart now before you’re in too deep.

you're officially done with the world of love. at least it's what you keep repeating to you and your close ones, that worried friend that insists on knowing how you're doing over text: you're done with love, and impossible, borderline stupid crushes.

"are you ever going to get out of your room?" ava asks as she enters the space, opening the curtains "it really smells like death in here."

"no i'm not" you reply, tired from being up all night watching on some tv series as a way to subside with your bad luck lately — "i'm gonna finish the last season of yellowjackets, actually. heard shauna's a real bitch in there."

"listen to me, i say this as a friend, but the smell in here, it's you" ava points out as she opens the window to let the air filter "my field trip will be over in a couple of days. after that, you're going out with me to see actual people. you need it."

"i'm okay."

"yeah. sure you are. please take a fucking shower before you kill us both due to intoxication, my eyes are watering."

"that's really over the top. dramatic even."

being friends with ava however, it's the weirdest thing you have ever experienced. you liked her since the moment you saw her, but now she's nothing but a good friend when she's taking the delivery food rests from the floor with a grossed look.

"if i see spider, i'm evicting you."

your recent friend has this geological field trips you don't understand much, but she's gone for a couple of days usually. maybe that's why on thrusday, you wake up paranoid as ever when you hear a noise coming out from your roommate's dorm.

you want to say you're crazy, but the sound's there again subtle and distant, as your brows furrow in concern: ava’s not in the house until tomorrow, and it's definitely not her when you can hear footsteps.

thieves. somebody got into ava’s room and they’re stealing all her stuff — “ave?” you ask out from the kitchen, receiving silence in response “you home earlier?”

to be fair, you don’t think much when you’re walking up to her door, opening up without a previous warning only to find out a scene you’re once again not welcomed in.

“what the fuck?” you can hear ava’s pitched voice when all suddenly stops and you froze for a moment “get out! why are you still here?”

it should be worst things in life that finding out your former crush is now with a redhead, right? — starting out for redheads kissing each other, cause that's a crime to society.

“don't you know how to knock?” she screams from the inside “i texted you yesterday telling you i was going to come home early, dumbass.”

“i'm so sorry” you reply on the other side of the door, holding on a laugh at the other side as you don't want to make her ever further mad — “there’s a lock you know? you can use it sometimes.”

“fuck off.”

however, you’re opening the door again to interrupt a new make out session much covered now, staring at the other girl you ignored before, the redhaired you did not recognize until you're blatantly checking on her.

“sarah. you’re fucking sarah fortune,” you state almost not believing it as you can feel the loud pounding in your chest at the realization, and ava's blushing the same shade of her messy hair as you point it out impressed "i'm gonna let you guys keep at that, you know? yeah. goodbye."

your mouth falls open when you're closing out the door at your back, and you're celebrating without making a sound as it was the most awkward moment of your life.

ava. ava's fucking sarah.

it's news you want to share, but none of your friends would understand how important it is, so you cannot do anything but keep it to yourself.

and it hits you as you go to room again ready to play some loud music so you don't hear anything — if sarah's there: does it mean she's not dating vi back again?

ah. fuck. maybe you'll need to swallow your pride a little bit.

vi's been thinking about you lately. quite a lot.

it starts like a memory in the morning. vi gets up earlier cause she got so much energy lately she don't know where to put it as she runs as much as she can for at least an hour, and it extends to the afternoon where she's sure her phone buzzed with one of your texts, when in reality, it's empty as you don't reply to any of her tries.

and it bring sadness by the night, when she's smoking on her own and the air's cold but she don't want to use a sweater since it's too peaceful to move, to remember she's alive again.

how is she so utterly affected by you?

she ends up overthinking about the brief story she shared with you on the course of almost three weeks in which she allowed you, in plain sight, to get closer to her than anyone to the point she's used to your company — her practices where she seems distracted as ever, her usually bad choices you prevent in the movies since she's always insisting in action movies.

she misses you, and it's her fault mainly when she let you in so easy, without much questioning. almost like you already belonged there.

"violet, you're in" to be fair. she don't want to play by thursday. she's not into the mood lately.

the place is packed and the other team is not giving up as they fight every second on the ice, yet vi's not really there. the game is on its peak point, there's tension and competition in the air, loud noises from the public already cheering on their preferred team, but she's insisting, over and over again, how she should be left in the benches since she's suffering from a strange pain in her shoulder: how is one of the greatest players in the team going to spend the whole game seated?

"i'll only slow the team- send akali" she suggests, but the coach shake her head as she screams to the referee "i'm not at my best."

"since when you're bothered by a little wound, vi?" the coach ask, and her nose wrinkles in defeat: never really, she's usually pushing through misery "there are recruiters out there looking for their next super star, now don't be dumb and get in the ice now."

it's harsh, what vi needed to hear as she's biting on her safety mouth guard before being pushed to the ice by the third and last period — she just wishes to survive.

you've slowly become a problem since the only thing you do, even when you're not near, is mess up with her head. she's being shoved and pushed by two minutes in, and she cannot get twenty minutes of silence when she spots you there in the seats using this red white and blue jersey with her number on it and it's just like the one she's wearing now.

you're there.

is it a dream? has she reached the point where she's hallucinating? maybe there's a rational explanation, maybe vi's brain so stressed lately it makes up things due to the adrenaline or something like that. makes sense. the rush.

"what the fuck is wrong with you? wake the fuck up-" ellie curses by her side when vi can feel the blood on her mouth as she's shoved to the side, roughly pushed against the border to crash her head against the thick protection plastic that surrounded the rink, the other team quickly reducing her offense to nothing as they score in their favor — "if we lose i'm going to kill you violet. i mean it."

despite the threats of her captain, vi forces herself to look again at the spot she saw you before and you're there again — worried as you tried to see how she was doing, wearing her shirt and she's lost for a moment.

you came.

it makes her breathing erratic, and for a moment she don't know if it's for the pain or that hazy feeling on her chest but you're there and it means so damn much to her as you smile at her for a moment and you shyly mutter a hi like you're not already wearing a jersey with her name on it.

she's mad at you. violet needs to stay mad at you cause you don't ever fucking listen, and she tried to explain so many times before she was never into sarah or whatever it may have seemed, how the kiss was actually against her will — how she was long done with her ex before you even came to the picture.

she wants to pause the game for a brief moment and demand you to listen to her now, make clear she never cared about sarah nor ava for once, but she values her life also cause ellie's already giving her a bad look as they are already on a bad situation, so even under your gaze she pays attention to the game.

it's what she loves, even when she's swallowing her own blood and she's sure there are going to bruises bigger than her hand, she's shouting to abby from the other side and in the blink of an eye — there it is. score.

the public shouts in the bleachers and to be a person that don't watch any kind of sports you really seem to enjoy the game as you never been into one before, celebrating with the rest: stay mad at you. she needs to remember, stay mad at you.

in the end, vi's filthy and reeking sweat, tossing her gloves powder's painted to the floor as a way of supporting her since she hates going to games and actually stay seated for two hours, the big helmet she holds in her hands before she's crushed in a hug from the team as they celebrated another victory.

golden streak.

her friends are shouting her name since she made the last point on their half, and even when it makes her feel good about it, she's searching for you in the room, an smile on your face as you looked at the celebration cause you're proud of her — she's really good in what she does.

you've seen her practices but a game was different. so you stay there hidden in the sea of the people around you, but vi can spot you right away since you got this light on your own she can pick up from the distance.

and the athlete can feel the weight of your eyes in hers, even at the distance she cannot enjoy a celebration under her name cause she aches to see you, needs to clear up some things before anything else, so she's awkwardly smiling to the greetings, acting polite as she skates her way out of the rink between jokes and hair scratches of the girls she has been playing for years: we're going to win this season if you keep up like this vi, leave some room for us mortals.

her cheeks are blushed since she's not really used to it, people praising on her so blatantly, but it gives her the confidence she needs to leave her ice skates on the floor.

"what are you doing?" abby asks when she notices she's not really going to the changing rooms but instead, about to jump out the small wall that separate the players seats from the public barefoot — "not celebrating with us?"

"later," vi says already in the other side "need to take care of something else first."

she don't receive an stupid joke back, refreshing almost as she climbs up the stairs. usually she takes a long shower after a game ready to celebrate but now, vi's walking between the people who's patting her arm, touching on her painted helmet and congratulating her for a good game.

and really, vi'd like to walk to you faster, but she has to say thank you to each compliment as an awkward smile stirred her lips upwards.

"hi."

"hey," you greet her back, and she knows the signs of your body when you're nervous as she ha already seen it so many times before, the look in your face that sold you out entirely "great game, congratulations."

"thank you" she replies, even when she's already combusting in how many praises she got already, your words scratches a different part on her brain. you're special to her, your words mean more than the rest "you came."

"i did," it's hard to remember she needs to stay mad at you cause it's difficult like this, you're there in a jersey with her name on it, that smile on your face she likes to see every single time — "i told you i wanted to come."

"yeah. i missed you," the words escape from her lips before she can think about what she's saying and it's too late to regret them as the simple admission makes you breathless "and i'm really pissed at you too."

"i'm sorry-" vi has lost count now of many many little deaths she has experienced in your company, but there goes another one as the air is stolen from her lungs and the rest of the public is disappearing until there's only the two of you reduced in the cold temperature of the rink, "for not hearing what you have to say."

"i never wanted to kiss sarah," she says at a safe distance, holding onto her helmet like her life depends on it — "i'm not into her, i explained that to her too."

"you aren't" you reply, and vi's almost relieved when she notices you are listening to her "i know it."

"i don't know what you heard, i've heard some crazy shit myself" it slowly fades away until it's not there anymore, that weird anger that she felt before and was so invested in not forgetting in the ice “i’m not with sarah either, she’s not my girlfriend.”

“she’s dating ava” you told her as her eyes widened at the information “like fully dating, walked into them today.”

“what?” vi’s struck for a moment before chuckling in aware “holy shit, that's some news-"

"yeah" you agree with her before you're pulling out this white paper from the back pocket of your jeans, a tiny paper that turned out to be a good sized tablecloth she can recognize from before — "i found our rules. wanted to show them to you."

"you came here to show me the rules were real?" vi asks holding in a laugh, looking at the words you write down with her brows furrowed "this is still not enough to count i'm afraid. i was too busy eating and i didn't agree on most."

"what? don't cheat it does count" you roll your eyes in response as you point out your own handwriting to specific numbers — "we broke up rules. number one, two three and five to be specific, which is most of them."

"is this your way of saying sorry? explaining you're right?" vi holds the paper between her fingers as she takes a step forwards to you, hiding it beneath her back as she looks down to you "not inviting me one of those artisanal pasta dishes you make? you're not working here for my love."

"i am right" you proudly state as she chuckles, not making a movement to step back and reject her advances. "you should admit it either way, those there are real rules you broke."

people are long gone by now, the bleachers now empty as you prove your point and vi's dropping the helmet to the floor cause she's too busy holding you now, right between her arms as her hand cups your cheek and she's making you meet her gaze.

"you're right, i broke the rules" she gives you the point, another win to your book she wants you to have — "we broke up the rules, do you have any complains now that you know you're right?"

"not really" she's smiling against your lips as you add — "maybe we did were a bad movie in the end, one where the main characters fall in love cause they are so dumb they thought they could pull out a fake relationship."

"a bad movie" she agrees with you, there's no point in hiding it as she's cutting the inches that separates her lips from yours in a much necessary, colliding kiss — "we are a bad movie."

"hold up-"

"what?" vi asks impatient "you need me to pretend i want you for a minute? another girl you like?"

you're a little monster, appearing on her game with her jersey, glossy lips and big eyes.

"no," you simply reply, looking at the empty rink now — "i was just making sure there's no one around. i don't want you to think this is not real anymore."

real. everything's so real.

ah. violet vanderson would most definitely rot in love.

[business-as-usual-bats]

Kon: well. Fuck.

Bart: what r the chances the Justice League won't blame us for this?

Kon, sarcastically: yeah, they probably won't even notice

Bart: cmon, we stopped the alien invasion! That counts for something!

Cassie: we leveled the city!

Bart: the league has done way more damage- no one got hurt!

Cassie: the! Whole! City! After ignoring direct orders! Wonderwoman is gonna kill me, and Batman is going to kill all of us-

Tim: no. He won't.

Kon: do you have a plan?

Bart: he does! I can see it in his face!

Cassie: they'll be here any second, Robin, if you're going to do something-

Tim: i know! I'm trying to concentrate, I haven't perfected the technique yet.

Kon: what are you talking abou-

*Superman, WonderWoman, Flash, and Batman appear dramatically*

Bart, whispering: whatever happens, I'll never forget you guys, I regret nothing

Cassie, also whispering: don't let Conner give a speech at my funeral

Kon, angry whispering: rude as hell. I'm going to tell them it was your idea now

Wonder Woman: Hera help us. How did this happen?

Flash: yikes. Yeah, this is... not great

Superman: an understatement

Batman: Robin, report!

Tim:

Batman: Robin?

Tim: *starts sobbing*

Everyone, shocked:

Batman, extremely alarmed, immediately by Robin's side: are you injured, Robin?

Tim: *incoherent crying noises*

Batman, gently: talk to me, buddy. Are you okay?

Tim: *cries harder*

Wonder Woman: clearly, the children have been through much trial. Conversations of consequences can wait until after recovery.

Superman: woah, hold on, you believe those crocodile tears?

Flash, glaring at Superman: seriously?

Superman: Bru- Batman, he's faking!

Batman, harshly: not now, Superman

Superman: but-

Batman, hissing: not now!

Batman, calmly, sweetly: I'm going to pick you up now, son, is that okay?

Tim: *nodding, crying, immediately clinging to Batman like his life depends on it*

Batman, cooing soothingly: you're safe, I'm not mad, i think we've both earned a break for the day, it's alright *picks up Robin and starts walking away*

Tim, over Batman's shoulder, makes eye contact with his teammates and gives a subtle wink: *resumes crying*

Superman: there! You all saw that right? Right??

Wonder Woman: *glares at Superman in disgust*

Bart, heartbroken: can I go check on Robin later? I'm really worried about him

Flash: aww, of course, kiddo!

Cassie: he's been through so much, please, don't blame him

Kon: If anything if we had listened to him this wouldn't have happened

Cassie: can I stop by to check on him, too?

Wonder Woman: though we've much to discuss, the loyalty and friendship you feel for your companions is admirable. You will be allowed to support each other, of course. I know how it feels to worry for a friend.

Kon: And I'll-

Superman: no. You're grounded

Kon: what?

Superman, crossing his arms: I'm not falling for it. I know.

Kon, looking helplessly at the other heroes: but... he's my best friend

Wonder Woman and Flash both scowling at Superman like they're ready to physically fight him:

Superman: you gotta be kidding- the answer is no!

Superman:

Superman: stop looking at me like-

Superman:

Superman: fine! Fine, yes, you can go!

*Bart, Kon, and Cassie silently cheer*

Superman, under his breath: how do they get away with it every time

Not ever crying is POWERFUL. Healthy? No. But when you have a character who never cries who just fucking loses it?? Holy shit

All this to say, Batman's children are manipulative as hell when need be. Some of them definitely can cry on command, but if they do so too often, the effects lessen, so they choose wisely.

Who do they manipulate with these crocodile tears? Their overprotective, very intimidating, very no-nonsense father, of course.

Dick, age 11, accidentally flips into Superman, which is essentially like running into a wall and winds up faceplanting on the floor: Owww

Superman: oh sorry, buddy! But y'know this is why Batman told you not to do those flips in the halls-

Dick, embarrassed and afraid Batman is going to yell at him, immediately starts crying: B! B!

Superman, panicked: no, no, shh, hey, it's okay, I'm sorry, here let me help-

Dick, sobbing: no! You'll hurt me again!

Batman, appears out of nowhere: What. Did. You. Do.

Superman: he ran into me, I didn't-

Batman: is your name not "super" man? Could you not use your "super" hearing or "super" vision or "super" speed to get out of the way?

Superman: he's fine! It wasn't my-

Dick, bravely through his tears: my head hurts

Batman, gently: do u think u have a concussion, chum?

Dick: I d- don't know I just wanna go h-home

Batman: of course, we'll go home now and after dinner we'll get ice cream, just the two of us. How does that sound?

Dick, sniffing: okay

Batman, whispering to Superman: if u ever so much as touch a hair on my son's head again I will pour boiling liquid kryptonite in your ears while you sleep. From now on you are dead to me. I'll see you in hell, Clark Kent.

Superman: bruce that seems a little extreme-

Batman: another word and I'll guarantee after I'm done with you, your funeral will have to be closed casket

Superman:

Batman: okay, chum, let's get you home! *picks up his child*

Dick, peering over Bruce's shoulder at Clark with a small smile, mouthing: sorry, Uncle Clark, love you

Superman muttering to himself: heaven help us if he adopts more children

[outtathisworld-imagines]

Daylight

——☀️——☀️ ——☀️——☀️——

Pairing: Bob Reynolds x F!witch Reader

Warning: Jam packed with fluff, some angst, Bob is too pure for this world. Like one swear of that and some suggestive language, pregnancy mention. Not proofread 🥲

A.N: Well would you look at the time *looks at blank wrist* it’s loving Bob o’clock.

I recommend listening to Daylight by David Kushner while reading, it inspired be to write this!

Lyrics are in bold italic!

Please let me know what else you guys would like! I do have a few other fics on the back-burner (for now!) that I'll start to post soon and just let me know if you'd liked to be tagged in further works too! Enjoy ✨

——☀️——☀️ ——☀️——☀️——

Telling myself I won't go there

Oh, but I know that I won't care

Tryna wash away all the blood I've spilt

Bob sat in the darkness of his room. He felt like he was peddling backwards recently and the team could feel a dark cloud looming over him. He tried hard to fight it but he could feel it seeping in more, the less he tried to atone with his past.

He knew how much pain, how much suffering he caused others- never mind himself. The second he closed his eyes and let the dark embrace him, visions came back to him. He felt like a haunted house, rooms locked with darkness that was seeping from the cracks in the doors.

“I’ll make a call,” Bucky announced one day, the team eager to intervene to try and help him in any way they could. “I have an old friend that might be able to help him. Help him with his powers and help him fight the void.”

Bucky waited with bated breath, he weren’t even sure if the person on the other side of the line would even pick up for him.

“Hi, Bucky.” He let out a sigh of relief hearing your voice. “What’s the matter?”

Bucky tried to break the ice with a laugh “Why do you always think I call when there’s a problem?” The silence on the other side confirmed that you didn’t find it funny, and that you knew him better than that. “Okay, I do have a problem.” You let him ramble on as you made your way through the house before making your way out to the back porch and sitting in the garden.

“So you see, he doesn’t know how to fully control his powers.” Bucky was finally wrapping up after almost an hour. “Please can you help?”

You sighed, it was carried with the wind that danced through your hair. “What makes you so sure I can?”

“Because you’re the best.” You let out a snort of laughter, warning him that flattery wouldn’t get him anywhere with you. “I’m serious Y/N. You can control your own, teach him to control his too.” He was beyond the point of acting brave with you, now he was begging.

“I’ll try.”

With that, Bucky had packed a bag for Bob and practically forced him to the car.

“W-where are we going?” He asked in a small voice, practically curled up in the passenger seat.

“Old friend of mine. She’ll help you. I know you haven’t been feeling your best recently.” The city soon disappeared behind them and was replaced with white sands and blue sea, pops of bright blooms every now and then. Bob stepped out of the car and looked at the fairytale-esque cottage that was before him. White shutters and sage green slats, pots and window-beds bursting with flowers as far as he could see with the sea in the distance. With someone waiting for him on the porch. He felt his shoulders lightening already.

“Hi Buck,” you walked towards them and greeted your ally with a smile and a hug. “You must be Robert. I’m Y/N, Y/N Maximoff.” You shook his hand, feeling a tingling up your arm before pulling away. “You should come in, I made tea.”

The two men sat as you poured “Why am I here?” You sent Bucky a glance before sitting across from Bob who looked petrified of his own shadow.

“You’re here because she can help you with your…void.” Bucky tried to choose his words carefully, they were still painful enough for a tear to slip from his eye and down his cheek.

Bob turned to you. “What makes you think you can help? How can you help me?”

You sighed, looking at your fingertips and feeling shame. “Because I’ve felt the same. I’ve been in your shoes.”

This lust is a burden that we both share

Two sinners can't atone from a lone prayer

Souls tied, intertwined by our pride and guilt

Bob was settling, not quite settled. He spent most of the last 48 hours in your house with your cat on the back porch, he hadn’t ventured further into the garden, happily hiding in the shade. You walked past him struggling with your wash basket. He quickly stood up and took it from you. “Thank you, Robert.” You smiled and walked forward, Bob saw his tiptoes reach the line between the light and the dark. “The sunshine will do you the world of good.” You assured from the lawn that was framed with flower, fruit, and vegetable patches. “Won’t hurt you, and if it does I’ll fly up and punch the sun.”

Bob laughed. Really belted out a loud carefree chuckle. You felt the sun burn brighter when he did. “What you gonna use that broomstick on your porch?” He asked, stepping out into the light for the first time in what felt like years.

But around you, he felt like he had never left it.

You playfully shrugged, a smirk on your face. “Never know, I just might.” Bob handed you clothing and you hung it on the line, creating a rhythm. A smile never left his face the entire time. “Why don’t you pick something from the beds over there and I’ll work my magic and make something for dinner from it.” Bob looked elated and as soon as the washing was done he ran over to the beds. You smiled to yourself as you grabbed him a basket.

Bob picked a mixture of fruit and vegetables from your garden, placing them in the kitchen and you got to work. “What can I do to help?” He asked. You motioned him over to the sink to help you wash the produce. Your hands brushed against another, catching each other’s eyes every so often. “It’s really pretty,” Bob said, looking directly at you before he realised he was staring, quickly adding “Your house! Of course…” and looked of the window in front that had views of the garden and the beach. “I feel better already. Hard to believe anyone would be unhappy here.”

“I was.” You quietly admitted, sending him a tight smile. “Let’s finish dinner, I have some dough in the fridge for us to make pizza. We can use the raspberries for dessert.” You grabbed what you needed and he stood on one side of the counter while you stood at the other.

Bob remained quiet. Unsure whether to further question your admission. “How do you know Bucky?” He asked instead.

“Bucky and I had a group of friends…uh, my sister actually was good friends with his best friend, Steve.” The names of your past almost made your voice crack. “We’ve always supported and been there for each other. When he told me about you, how you once felt and how you’re recently feeling, I wanted to help you, Robert.”

“Bob,” he quickly interjected “You can call me Bob, please.” He finished off topping his pizza. “And thank you for trying to help me.”

You insisted it wasn’t a problem. He internally insisted that he was.

You placed them in the oven, the gentle meowing from your cat caught Bob’s attention and he crouched to scratch behind its ears. With a swift movement of your hand, the table was set. “Shouldn’t be too long.” Bob stood back up.

“Wow! How did you do that so quickly?” He asked in amazement.

You blinked. “Did he not tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“I’m gonna kill him.” You groaned out and sat Bob down. “I’m not going to beat around the bush here. Bucky should have told you, the reason I can help you is because…well, I’m a witch.” Bob laughed in disbelief, thinking you were all trying to cheer him up by playing an elaborate prank, the broomstick, the cat. You raised a brow and in a glow that manifested out of no where, the same basket from earlier that was left outside was suddenly on his lap. Bob laughed again, laughed, and laughed, and laughed, fizzing out as he fainted and fell off his chair. “Oh god!”

Hours later, Bob came to. Water and his pizza that was still warm by a table next to him. He sat up and took a bite, almost floored again by your work. “Boy, I guess she really is magic.”

It was the next morning you saw Bob, somewhere in between making breakfast and screaming at Bucky over the phone. “How are you feeling? The raspberry tea will help you.” You sighed “Sorry you had to find out like that.” Bob nodded, tentatively moving forward with tears welling in his eyes from just how much you cared about him.

“Whatever it is you need to do,” he said, suddenly speaking up. “Whatever you need to do to help me control my darkness. Do it. I can’t let it take hold of me. It will kill me. I can’t live like this any longer. Please, just do it. Y/N.”

There's darkness in the distance

From the way that I've been livin'

But I know I can't resist it

You sat with him out on the porch that same night, the two of you wanting the sun set. “You know it won’t be easy.” You said, trying to manage his expectations.

“I know, I’ll do my best.” You saw him shivering, from nerves and the chill starting to linger in the air. You flicked your finger and a blanket suddenly shroud you both. He sent you a silent smile in thanks. That was before he delved deeper. “What did you mean when you said you were unhappy here?”

You looking at him through your eyelashes and wondered if hearing stories of your own struggles, he’d be more likely to embrace your help. “I isolated myself here. It was pretty selfish of me but I just had to be alone, fight my demons. I had a brother too, he died, that further darkened my spirt along with everything else I had endured. Then with my sister, one thing after another before she too…” Bob’s hand found yours between your bodies and the blanket. You choked on a sob “I failed her. When she needed me most.”

Bob was meeting your darkness for the first time, his own heart shattering at the sight of you breaking apart on the back porch. You wiped away your tears, sniffling as tried to comfort you by gently rubbing his hand on your back and soothing you with his words. “It’s okay. You cared. You loved her. I can feel that you love and care, so much. Even now. You did the right thing caring and loving yourself first, if you hadn’t, how could you give that to her?”

He didn’t think twice before resting his forehead to yours. Your eyes were shut at the time to stop your tears, suddenly opening at the contact of his head to yours. Bobs eyes did the opposite and shut, suddenly finding a glimmer of light in his darkened world. “Thank you for listening to me.” You pulled back and looked at the moon that was rising above the water.

“Thank you for taking care of yourself. Thank you for taking care of me.” Bob remained close to you and spoke lowly, almost as if he didn’t want the void to hear. “Memory is punishment. It knows that.”

Your stomach sank at his words knowing what you’d have to do. What he would have to do. Confront his fears and his darkness head on. You’d held his navigate that world and help him control it. With one swift blow of a comment, you told him what needed to happen.

“I’ll have to meet your void.”

Oh, I love it and I hate it at the same time

You and I drink the poison from the same vine

Oh, I love it and I hate it at the same time

Hidin' all of our sins from the daylight

Bob was reluctant to say the very least. You gave him some time to mull it over. He tossed and turned that night in bed over the ‘what ifs’.

He was up early the next morning with the rising sun, his broken sleep allowing him to see it. Bob made his way quietly downstairs, trying his best not to wake you from the sound his feet made on the creaky stairs. He noticed you sitting on the back porch, the sun heating the air around you as it started shining on the earth again. He was convinced that when you rose, it did too.

You were in your own head that you didn’t hear him. Focusing only on the sounds of the sea crashing and birds tweeting. And talking to the cat as you often did, it responded like it understood you. It made him smile. It made him feel like he was Bob again. It made him feel like he could blissfully live the rest of his life here with you, every morning he’d be making you pancakes and you’d be outside on the porch waiting for him like what was happening now.

He almost burnt the pancakes he was making you as a ‘thanks’ at the thought of it. At the thought of you. How close he was starting to feel with you. How much you felt like home.

“Something smells good,” you appeared out of nowhere and handed him a cup of coffee that magically appeared out of nowhere before he remembered that it likely did magically appear. “Looks amazing,” you said approaching him and resting right beside his arm, Bob suddenly feeling more heat from that contact than the skillet. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“I wanted to,” he turned his head, his nose practically bumping against your forehead. “I wanted to because I think we should start tonight.” Your hand gripped his forearm, as if to ask if he was sure and protect him from his messy world at the same time. “It’s time. I feel ready.”

You decided to make the day fun for him. Because what he would experience tonight and the next attempts would be as close as he would get to hell.

You went to the beach which was just a step away from the bottom of your garden. The two of you dipping your toes in the cold sea and playfully splashing one another before you made him lunch and sat on a blanket in the garden together. You chased each other between the linen scented washing on the line and crashed into one another, falling to the grass with a laugh.

If only your powers kept the sun in the sky a little longer, it would mean you wouldn’t have to cause him any suffering. But you knew that wouldn’t be fair in fighting his void.

Your smile faltered a little, finally realising how close you were to him. His laughter caught in his throat feeling your breath fan across his face as he remained in the same spot with your limbs intertwined and his arms around your frame.

That was a chill became present in the air, you looked up and saw the sun starting to set. The golden glow that kissed his face dimmed and vanished. It was time.

You pressed your forehead to his “I’m sorry it has to be this way.”

From the daylight, runnin' from the daylight

From the daylight, runnin' from the daylight

Oh, I love it and I hate it at the same time

The smell of jasmine and lilac filled the air as twilight settled into the cracks of your home.

You had made him dinner, laughed at some stories of your childhood between the candlelight before you told him you were going upstairs. Upon reaching your room, you grabbed what you needed. Your cat on your bed “He’s going to need us more than ever,” you rubbed behind its ears, softly sighing as it meowed a response. “We’ll take care of him.” Meowing again your features quirked. “It’s not like that between us. Shut up.”

You made your way to the bathroom and filled the tub, lighting candles and scattering protective elements around the room before a flick of your hand turned off the lights.

“This looks more romantic than terrifying,” Bob chuckled from the door frame making you jump and your cheeks flush at his comment.

“It does give that impression, huh,” You nervously laughed. “This helps my powers too, but it’ll also protect you.” Bob looked at the bath and raised a brow at you. “It’s the best way, you can keep your clothes on.” You clarified with wide eyes just before he started to take off his t-shirt. “You’ll be fully submerged for seconds but I’ll be able to have a lot longer on the other side.”

Bob blinked, staggering back a little “We-we’re going to die?!” His voice tight and quiet.

“No! No! No!” You assured. “I’m going to meet your void, that other side! It will be a plane between this world and another.” You explained and held onto his forearms “I know it’s scary, confusing and pretty much incomprehensible but please, trust me, Bob.”

“I trust you.”

He got into the bath, you rested on your knees beside the tub. “The second I sense trouble I’ll pull us out.” You assured and then with a gentle dunk, Bob was under the water with your hands on his chest and forehead. You chanted softly with shut eyes as you felt your power being pulled in all directions, eyes fluttering shut and opening in a different room. It was four grey walls, a floor that matched, a ceiling you couldn’t see the end of and a seat in front of you.

“So he’s imprisoned you too. Like he did with me- or rather trying to. The walls have been expanding.”

“I’m not a prisoner here. I came here. I came here to help him.” You kneeled up, your hands dripping wet with a familiar scorched look at the fingertips again, one that you took years to ensure it was gone. “Are you not even going to give me the decency to stand in front of me? Show me who you are?” You asked to the never ending void above you. You saw floating feet first as a shadowy figure hovered down, looking over you and not anywhere near the floor.

“You already know me. I’m him.” You sensed that was true, his form perfectly symmetrical to Bob. “Why aren’t you vanishing…?” It asked, sounding confused.

“I don’t know. Maybe you want me here.” It laughed, holding out its hand and then its smile faltering and arm shaking from some unknown force. You remained standing in place. “Is this you trying…?” You deadpanned.

“What makes you different?” It pondered loudly before making a noise that sounded pleased with itself for figuring it out. “Your past.” It came closer to you “I need to know. I want to know.” You glanced behind your shoulder, eyes widening in surprise when you saw the bath there with Bob still under the water. Its hand remained outreached, fingers tense and twitching as it came closer. You stumbled back, hitting against the bath, your hand trying to save you from falling but you instead fell into the water.

Bob let out a loud gasp as he came up for air, you were still kneeling by the bath with your hands against him. They quickly moved to hug him tightly. “Shhh, you’re okay. It’s okay.” His soaking wet body was draped over yours, it reached a point where you wondered would he ever pull back from the hug. “Let’s get you out before you catch a cold.” You told Bob between the echoing drips falling from his arms and also from his eyes. You helped him out, his legs wobbling a little as you brought a towel around his shoulders, gently drying him and his tears before leaving him to finish off and setting up his bed with his pyjamas waiting for him at the bottom of the covers.

You went and changed into your pyjamas your own room, your top soaked through. Your fingers were still tingling, you were eager to go back and try and find out more but you knew this was something Bob had to take at his own pace.

Tellin' myself it's the last time

Can you spare any mercy that you might find

If I'm down on my knees again?

You padded across the carpet before peaking into what was now his room, Bob was there tucked up under the covers and looking at the ceiling. “Hey,” you slowly opened the door with a mug in your hand, his eyes moved to look over at you coming in. “I made you some hot cocoa with lavender, it will help you sleep.” Bob was thankful it was dark, his eyes welling at just how much you cared about him. He had never had someone like you in his life, he never felt truly cared for until he walked through your door. You placed it down on the sideboard and sat beside them on the bed. “How are you feeling?”

“I was worried it would hurt you.” He lowly confessed.

You softly smiled at his concern “I would have been okay. We had a brief talk, we can try again when you’re ready.” You watched as he drank the cocoa, a little extra magic added to help him sleep in peace. “I should let you get to sleep.” You tired to stand by his hand on top of yours pulled you back to the bed. You looked at the two tangled together and then to Bob.

“Can you stay? It gets so lonely in the dark.” He asked in such a small voice that it almost sounded like he was asking out of shame and guilt.

You don’t know what compelled you to do it but you cupped his face with a reassuring smile, the contact giving you a spark in your heart. “I know it does. I’ll stay.” With a large grin he pulled back the covers, silently inviting you in.

“The cat usually comes and sleeps at the end of the bed, not that I mind.” He explained as you both now settled in a very confined shared space.

You sent him a side-eyed glance. “Uh…I may have asked it to.” A moment of silence passed before Bob burst into a fit of giggles, you joined in. His tears turning into ones of joy. “What?! I just wanted to make sure you had company.”

The two of you were lying on your backs after your laughter subsided. “I thought witches were supposed to have black cats?”

“That’s a myth. Like most things regarding witches.” You replied. “Some thing’s though I am a walking cliché- I’m afraid you’ve noticed already.” Bob chuckled again.

“When did you realise you were one?” He asked.

You let out a deep sigh. “Lots of soul searching. Lots of coming to terms. Lots of trying to love myself. Lots of practice.” You explained, turning your face to look at his and suddenly realising how small your guest room bed was.

“So can you fly?”

“I can.”

“Cool. So can I.”

“Wait…what?”

Bob chortled “Bucky didn’t tell you about Sentry?”

“No, he did. He didn’t tell me you could fly though. We’ll have a lesson in that too.” You said “Right after I kick his ass,” you grumbled under your breath.

“Good because back at the watchtower I went through the ceiling after I sneezed too strongly.” He sleepily giggled and you bit down your lip to contain your laughter. He was dipping in and out of consciousness, the magic taking hold. “Oh,” he yawned “You could have kept me company if you wanted to…I would…woulda said y-y…yeah.”

You blinked at his tired comment and watch as he fell into a deep sleep. You watched as his face twitched every so often throughout the hour or so you lay in the bed beside him. His lips twitching into a smile that put one on your own. That’s when you realised that you had been staring at them for the longest time. You closed your eyes, trying to get some sleep, but the only thing you could think of was him.

Deep down, way down, Lord, I try

Try to follow your light, but it's night time

Please, don't leave me in the end

The next morning the streams of sunlight kissed your face, your eyes opened and you found Bob’s face inches away from your own with your limbs tanged together. He was already awake “Morning,” his cracking, sleep laced words filling the room.

“Good morning”, you hazily replied, none of you moving from the spots you were in.

Bob softly smiled, his hand now coming up to brush away some hair that was sprayed over your face. “Sorry for staring, I just can’t look away.” His admission made you swallow hard and you knew he saw your eyes darting back and forth from his eyes to his lips. “You’re so beautiful, every part of you.” He slowly shifted closer and you moved to meet him in the middle, your lips meeting first.

He pressed a soft kiss to your lips before pulling back. You both battled for the largest grin, Bob’s much larger when you rolled on top of him and passionately kissed him back. He softly moaned against your lips, his hand roaming up your sides and slipping under your top, sparks with each touch followed. You breathed out his name, he responded by murmuring yours against your skin. He flipped you onto your back, his mouth crashing against yours. “Bob…” you smiled against his lips.

His hands toyed with the hem of your pyjama bottoms. “Can I?” He asked between kisses. You didn’t know how many times you said yes, but by the time you stopped you were both laying on each other in a naked panting mess. Bob pressed a long, lazy, blissful kiss to your temple, hugging you to keep you close. “When I’m with you I forget I have my void.”

The mention of his other self made you subconsciously hold him closer, if that minuscule move would protect him. “I’m glad you feel that way. Let me make you breakfast, Bob.” You pecked his lips before moving from the bed and hearing a whistle as he checked out your body in the sunlight. “Oh hush you!” With a flick of your flustered hand you had a robe wrapped around you in a flash.

He met you downstairs when he changed, watching you from as you made him eggs, music playing from the corner of the room. Bob watched as you swayed from side to side. “Didn’t realise I was staying with a dancing witch…” he teased before hugging you from behind and peppering kisses up the side of your neck.

You laughed from his comment and the gentle tickling sensation. “Oh I don’t dance much! Never had anyone to dance with.” You flippantly admitted.

Bob stepped back and you turned around, his hand reaching out. “You have me now.” You turned down the stove and let him take lead. Waltzing together in the kitchen, your bodies close against each other as he hummed the song into your ear. It was the closest Bob felt to being completely and utterly happy. Suddenly you felt the two of you floating- and not just metaphorically.

You looked down and gasped seeing both of you levitating off the floor. Bob let out a low droned ‘Oh’ as you both lowered each other. “I think I know how we can control your powers…” you whispered out. “If we control them, we can control your void.” The look of relief that washed over his face made your heart practically burst with happiness at the sight.

After that morning, you both quickly fell into a very domesticated life. Bob watched as you got up each morning after spending your waking moments with him, then onto feeding the birds, in his eyes, looking like a goddamn Disney princess or something along those lines. He picked you flowers every other day, just because. You practiced various techniques to hone his skills. He kissed you goodnight.

It was almost a week since you had met his void.

You were at dinner, a cozy date night at home again with him amongst the candles. “I think you should go back again.” He said out of the blue, almost making you drop your glass. He noticed your panicked expression, even when you were trying your best to hide it.

“Is that what you want?”

“Yes.”

You nodded with a tight smile.

“I’ll visit tonight.”

There's darkness in the distance

I'm beggin' for forgiveness (ooh)

But I know I might resist it, oh

Your setup was virtually complete when Bob reached the bathroom, he listened as you spoke out to nothing in a language he couldn’t decipher. “Ready?” He asked and you nodded, you found it funny in a terrifying way that he was more ready than you.

He got into the bath, giving you a long kiss before plunging himself under the water, your hands on his chest and forehead again. Your eyes opened in a room that was becoming more familiar to you. The same four grey walls, the floor that matched, and the ceiling you couldn’t see the end of. The seat in front of you still wasn’t occupied.

“Back again?” It asked and you walked forward, hands scorched and dripping wet.

You looked up, the void slowly drifting down. “Couldn’t resist,” you sarcastically snapped back at it, ready to end Bob’s suffering once and for all. The void finally saw your scorched fingertips. A haunted memory of your past. It didn’t quite let out a noise that sounded like a chuckle at the sight. You weren’t entirely sure of the sound at all.

“You’re far too powerful for me to fight, you know this already.” It admitted.

You smirked. “I am a Maximoff after all.” A chair manifested for you and the void bobbed its head in shocked curiosity. “So sit.”

It quickly compiled, you sat facing it, leaning forward as if you were scolding a petulant child. “All this anger and sadness was once love.” You told it and its head slowly fell to the floor.

“I can’t remember it ever feeling like that…”

Its voice was echoed, you turned around and saw Bob standing there out of the bathtub, dry as a desert. You smiled and a seat appeared next to you. “Sit with us,” you encouraged. Bob and his void glared at each other and you sharply sighed. “You can’t leave each other, but you can’t fight each other. You must learn to live in harmony.”

“I’ve tried.” Bob admitted, twiddling with this thumbs.

“Not hard enough. You could have done so much better,” his void replied.

“Enough,” you warned, your golden glow turning a shade of red.

The void was just as intrigued as Bob. “You’ve met me, what about your own void?” It asked, Bob remained quiet.

“My void is my past.” You simply stated. “I’ve done things I’m not proud of, and I did things that I am proud of.” The void would have latched onto something like this, slowly manipulate you into oblivion but instead it didn’t feel the compelling need to do that to you. It felt a compelling need to comfort you.

“Do you understand the violence it took to become this gentle?”

You looked up, blinking at its words.

“It’s right, I don’t think how realise how strong and how wonderful you are.” Bob’s hand held one of your own while the void held the other. The two then eventually looking at each other.

“I think you and I can come to some sort of arrangement.” The void said and Bob nodded in agreement.

“I agree, if not for ourselves, for you, Y/N.” Bob leaned forward and kissed your cheek. “I’ll see you on the other side,” he spoke to you before then looking to his void with a small smile. Bob got back into the bathtub and you prepared to be pulled out from whatever existence you were in.

Just as you were about to go, the void pulled you back towards it.

Oh, I love it and I hate it at the same time

You and I drink the poison from the same vine

Oh, I love it and I hate it at the same time

Hidin' all of our sins from the daylight

“How can you love the worst part of yourself..?” It asked itself a rhetorical, self-reflective question. You cupped its cheek, forcing it to look at you as it rambled on. “How can you endure the worst part of me?” You saw the glimmer of Bob in there, a part of him bounded to his void for eternity. Just like the void was bound to the Bob you knew outside this realm.

“I love all of you. Good and the bad.”

The void released a noise that was between a sniffle and a bubble of laughter. “He gets less lonely every day…I feel the same. I looked forward to the hope of you visiting again.” Its admission made you smile. “Since I’ll be here, I’d like it if you continued to visit.”

You nodded. “I’d like to as well. You’re just another part of Bob I’ve come to love. I’ll visit you when he sleeps, keep you company.” You pecked its cheek before turning away.

“Thank you.” It called out.

“You’re welcome, Bob.”

It did laugh that tone. “Feels strange being called that. I’ve always been known as a void, a darkness, a burden…”

“You’re none of those things, you’re my Bob,” you looked at your sweet boy in the bathtub “Well a part of him at least.”

“Wait…you said love. You said it twice.” Its voice now almost as bright as the sun.

You smirked, hands ready to be placed back into the water.

“I know what I said.”

From the daylight, runnin' from the daylight

From the daylight, runnin' from the daylight

Oh, I love it and I hate it at the same time

Oh, I love it and I hate it at the same time

“Don’t give me that attitude, Alpine. I’ll make you live with Bucky- again!” You yelled at the cat, emotions running high as Bucky and the team were coming to see him after his six month stay- that has evolved into a permanent one- with you.

“Hey, everything’s going to be great. Better than great,” he kissed your forehead, your nose and then lips. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you sweetly smiled before hearing a car pull up. “That’s them.”

You and Bob walked out to your front porch, your garden even in late August still blooming thanks to your ‘green fingers’. “Hey guys!” Bob smiled from ear to ear as he made his way down the path to hug each of his teammates. Bucky approached you and wrapped his arms around you.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said as you hugged him back. “You’ve really worked your magic with him- pun intended.” You chuckled “But seriously, he’s like a different person!”

“We both are,” you affectionately smiled at Bob as he caught up with the team. “C’mon we made you guys lunch, it’s out in the garden.”

You greeted and briefly met everyone through the halls of the home you shared with Bob. Bucky looked at the photos on the wall, smiling seeing you and your older twin siblings in one, you and Wanda in another, you with Steve and Sam laughing in a dive bar. He then saw a photo of you with Bob, then another, then another two, then one with you Bob and Alpine. He let out a ‘huh’ under his breath before stopping and walking back a few steps to see the photo of you and Bob kissing out on the beach at the back of your house. “Oh.”

Everyone watched in amazement as you and Bob magically moved things through the air to finish off setting the table. “Help yourselves guys!” They were almost too stunned at the sight of effortless magic and the bending of elements to speak.

“Do you feel better, Bob?” Yelena asked as the team slowly sat down, Bucky joining them moments later.

“Much better, and only better days to come.” Bob smiled at you as he took your hand and gently squeezed it in a patch of shade enveloping your hands. Like the void was also giving your hand a loving squeeze too.

Bucky cleared his throat “Are you two…together?” He asked as food was being passed about. Suddenly it stopped and everyone turned to you both.

You were stood while Bob was sat, your fingers wrapped over his shoulder. This was Bucky, your longest friend- you knew you couldn’t get away with not telling him the truth. You also knew how much Bob respected the team, how much he held them in his heart. It wouldn’t have been fair to any of them to withhold.

“Well, we are a little more than that now…”

Bucky’s eyes went wide as yours and Bobs fingers brushed against your stomach. Alexei and Yelena rose to their feet gasping before cheering.

After the celebrations, Bucky had a moment with the both of you. “Congratulations you two, you’ll be great parents. I can already tell how much you guys devote each other.” You and Bob giddily smiled, he pressed a kiss to your temple. “But Y/N, don’t twins run in the family?”

Bob laughed, and laughed, and laughed , and then it fizzled out before he collapsed to the ground.

“Oh god not again!”

You and I drink the poison from the same vine

Oh, I love it and I hate it at the same time

Hidin' all of our sins from the daylight

“Hey! Don’t you throw her too high! I’ll hex you.” Soft, bubbly giggles filled the air.

“C’mon! This is why I’m the fun one,” you sent Bob a playful glare and he softly rolled his eyes with a smile in his face. “Alright…mom wins this time doesn’t she.” He peppered kisses on the cheeks of his daughter before you passed him his son and he ensured he wasn’t left out, the sunshine’s of his life. The one that shone on him first now in the kitchen preparing dinner and swaying to the music playing in the corner.

He smiled at the sight and then at his children. “Let’s get you guys inside, help mom. Although she’s always so great,” he confessed to the three month year olds who didn’t understand a word he was saying. “She’s pretty magic.”

Later that evening the two of you were in bed, the smell of the lavender hot cocoa which became part of his bedtime routine lingered in the air. Bob fell into a deep sleep and you reached out, latching onto his fingertip and squeezing your eyes shut.

“Hi, my love,” you smiled at the void Bob. That once cold, concrete coloured room now bright and bursting with parts of both you Bob and your children. “How was your day?”

“Always better for being with you, Bob.”

From the daylight, runnin' from the daylight

From the daylight, runnin' from the daylight

Oh, I love it and I hate it at the same time

[flofaiiry]

thinking about jack having a Long day at work and he's pissed and he's tired and he's frustrated and he's just had enough, then coming home to his beautiful gf (you!!) who is just ready to listen to everything he has to say and let him rant abt his day but jack has had enough of talking for the day and really just needs to take his frustration out on something (or someone teehee), and lucky for him ur ready to do that for him too!! the door swings open a little too forcefully & u look up from wherever u are in the house, the way he dropped the keys on the table harder than usual, the way he huffed as he takes of his boots.. you can easily tell he's had a bad day. "what happened, baby?" you ask, as he makes his way over to u. he quickly grabs your waist and pulls you into him, crashing his lips against yours and knocking the air out of your chest. you hum into his mouth & drape your arms over his shoulders, pulling away from the kiss for a second. "is everything ok?" you start, "don't wanna talk about it." he snaps. not annoyed, not at you at least, just definitive. his lips are back on yours before you can say anything else. he drops his hands from your hips to the backs of your thighs, easily picking you up. your legs wrap around his waist as he carries you to the bedroom, he drops u down onto the bed & starts to crawl over u. you kiss for a while like that, jack hovering above you. he starts to move his mouth from yours, down your jaw to your neck, but you stop him before he can get any farther. he's confused at first, when you pull his head from the crook of your neck and kiss him again: slower, softer. but he gets it when you whisper, "let me," against his lips and he has to stop himself from groaning too loudly when you roll him off of you and then climb on top of him, straddling his waist and kissing your way down his neck now. you grind down into him, the pressure not helping the wetness growing between your legs & the ever-hardening cock between his. jack tilts his head back into the pillow, "mmh, don't tease, baby, please not tonight." you smile, placing one last kiss to his neck before murmuring a soft, "sorry," against his skin.

you pull away and move down his body, hands going to his belt & undoing the buckle. you pull his scrub pants and boxers down in one motion, not trying to waste anymore time in giving jack what he wants. you pump your hand up and down his length a few times before wrapping your lips around him and easing him into your mouth. a slow, strangled sigh leaves him at the feeling. he takes your hair into a bunch in his hands, not pushing your head down, just holding you there- anchoring. you slowly start to bob your head, he cracks his eyes open to ogle at the way he disappears into your mouth. "fuck," he breathes, his noises only egging you on, making you speed up your rhythm and take him deeper into your mouth. jack feels the back of your throat just once and it has him seeing stars. he never lasts long when he's pent up like this, and you know it. you take the last inch or two of him that doesn't fit in your mouth and wrap your hand around it, matching the pace you've set on the rest of him. when the pace of his grunts speeds up and his breaths start hitching in his throat, you know he's close. you keep your rhythm, only faltering once or twice when you accidentally take him too deep. jack sucks in a breath, tugging at your hair the tiniest bit, "fuuuck, baby, just like that- 'm almost there." his breathing turns ragged and before you know it his legs are shaking just barely enough for you to notice and he's coming down your throat. you don't slow down, not at first, head still bobbing up and down his cock while he's practically quaking beneath you, grunts and curses falling mercilessly from his lips. you pull yourself off of him once his orgasm has subsided and swallow down his cum. his chest is still heaving, breathing strained, but he still finds it in him to smirk at you wiping the saliva from the corner of your mouth. "what'd i do to deserve you, huh?" you shrug, standing up off of him. jack takes your hand and pulls you towards him, other hand pulling you down to kiss you. his lips are slow against yours, like he's thanking you. you find your spot in bed next to him & rest your head on his chest. he presses a kiss to the top of your head, "love you," he mumbles into your hair. "i know."

[munsonsmixtapes]

The Prophecy

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

After recommending a movie to you, Steve invited you you over to watch it with him and to his surprise, you agree.

This has been sitting in my drafts for a while and I have no idea why I never posted it.

Based on “The Prophecy” by Taylor Swift because that song is Steve.

Steve would be the first to admit that his sex life is nothing but vanilla. He’s always on top and always so sweet and gentle. But now he’s starting to wonder if that’s the problem. If that’s the reason why women don’t seem to want anything more than a one night stand.

He doesn’t get it. He used to be King Steve and now he can’t even get a call back? What the fuck is that about? He goes on a date almost every night and still somehow the only action he gets is with his hand.

The “you suck” side of Robin’s board is so full that she had to get another one and what started as a harmless joke has now made Steve start to think badly about himself. He used to have so much confidence and now it’s withering away bit by bit with each rejection.

He thinks all hope is lost until you walk in to Family Video. You’re all smiles as you ask him for a suggestion and he’s convinced it’s all a prank. It’s going too well if he’s being honest. You’re laughing at his jokes and genuinely seem interested in what he’s recommending. He’s now wondering if Robin put you up to this so he’d stop complaining to her about being single.

He decides it doesn’t matter and that he’s going to play along because you’re pretty and now he’s following you around the store like a lost puppy, holding a large stack of tapes that you’ve handed to him. Normally, he hates when people treat him like he’s their personal shopper but he’s going to let you do whatever you damn well please. You might as well tell him to jump because he’ll ask how high.

“Is this one any good?” You ask, holding up a tape to him and he audibly gasps. He didn’t think anyone hadn’t seen the movie so the fact that you haven’t is genuinely shocking to him.

“You’ve never seen the Princess Bride?” He’s acting like he just witnessed you commit a crime. Sure, you’ve heard of the movie and listened to people rave about it, but there’s something about it that turns you off.

“No,” you shake your head and Steve plucks the VHS from your hand and heads over to the counter with you following him.

“I can’t allow that. You’ve gotta watch it. It’s one of the best movies of all time. So, I’m renting it to you.”

“Well, maybe we can watch it together.” Are you…flirting? He hasn’t been flirted with in so long that he’s having a hard time telling whether it’s that or you’re just being friendly.

“Y-yeah. I’ve got whole movie theater in my basement. We can watch it there.” That’s become his make out spot when everyone found out about skull rock, but this time, he just wants to watch a movie with you.

“It’s a date,” you glance at his name tag to get his name. “Steve. Can I call you, Stevie?”

“You can call me anything you want.” He internally cringes at his words, but you seem so into it that he can’t possibly take them back.

“Well, I’m y/n, but you can call me anything you want.” The line completely goes over his head as all he can focus on is your name. He’s heard so much about you and now that he can put a face to a name, he finally understands.

You’re new to Hawkins and it’s clear that you’re the talk of the town as everyone seems to want a chance to either be you or under you. And he can see why. You’re sweet and very easy on the eyes. You’re probably the most stunning woman he’s ever seen and you’re flirting with him? He’s wondering if this is some sort of cruel prank.

You set your purse on the counter then pull out a notebook and pen from it before setting them both on the counter in front of him. “Here, write down your address and I’ll write down my number and you can call me whenever you’re available.”

He’s scribbling down his information so quickly that he’s afraid you can’t read it. But you read over the words without a word then scribble down your number before ripping off the piece and handing it to him. You then put your things back into your purse before pulling out some cash to pay for your rental.

“Oh, he’s always available. How does tonight sound?” Robin has inserted herself into the conversation and Steve really wishes she hadn’t. He can get a date all by himself thank you very much.

“Stop helping me,” he whispers to her and he really hopes you can’t hear him.

“Tonight is perfect,” you smile and Steve swears he’s already in love with you. “Call me when you get off?”

“Oh, he’ll be getting off, alright,” Robin says under her breath and Steve is quick to elbow her in the stomach.

“Seriously, stop,” he turns to her to give her a glare and you honestly just find their whole dynamic to be funny, like siblings. Steve slides the VHS across the counter to you along with your change and as soon as you’re gone, he’s going to let Robin have it.

They’re so engrossed in their conversation that they haven’t even noticed that you’ve left your purse. The bright pink thing is sitting there in front of them they’re not even aware, too caught up in their silly conversation.

“I’m helping you get laid and this is how you repay me?” She asks, leaning against the counter, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I don’t need your help,” he tells her as he heads over to the cart of returns to put them away and Robin follows.

“Clearly you do. Or else I wouldn’t have had to step in.”

“I was fine. I’ve still got it.” He honestly doesn’t know how he even got a date with you since he almost always flounders now. Maybe this will be the one that finally sticks.

“Good for you, dingus, you scored a date with the hottest woman in town. Maybe this time I’ll actually be able to put a tally in the “you rule” column.”

Robin knows that it’s a cruel joke to make when he’s so sensitive about the whole thing, but she can’t figure out why. Even thought hasn’t been and will never be attracted to him, she totally understands the appeal. He’s sweet and funny and much more intelligent than people give him credit for. She doesn’t know why he can’t seem to find someone to settle down with when that’s really all he wants.

She knows he’s not as happy as he lets on, that he’s much more lonely than he tells people he is. That he always goes out with his friends or is over at her house because his is far too big to be alone in.

That’s why he’s always got a girl in his bed so he won’t be going to sleep alone, but that’s how he always wakes up as they always leave him before he’s awake.

It’s not fair, she thinks. That everyone has seemed to have found his person but not him. He’s such a fucking catch so it just doesn’t make sense. She’s really hoping that maybe you’ll be the one.

“Fuck off,” he shoves her away with a laugh. He’s being a good sport about the whole thing, at least that’s what everyone thinks. No one knows that sometimes he’ll go home and have a good cry in the shower because of how alone he feels. And he feels so fucking pathetic for it, but it's the only way he knows how to cope.

The bell above the door jingles, signaling that a customer has entered the store. Steve and Robin turn to see Dustin carrying a stack of VHS tapes he's going to return. He's got a bright smile on his face as usual as he makes his way over to the counter where Steve meets him.

“Everyone’s coming over tonight to watch Star Wars if you guys wanna join,” Dustin says as Steve returns the movies to the system.

“I’ll be there, but Steve has a date,” Robin replies, patting Steve on the shoulder in a congratulatory manner.

“Right, with your hand, a sock, and a bottle of lotion, just like every night?” Dustin is wearing a knowing look and Robin is grimacing in disgust while Steve’s cheeks turn bright pink.

“No,” Steve glares. “With a girl. We’re going to watch the Princess Bride.”

“What’s her name?” He’s asking in a way that makes it seem like he doesn’t believe Steve, but he does. Dustin just likes to give him shit any chance he gets.

“Y/n.” Steve’s tone is smug and Dustin scoffs in response because now he really doesn’t believe him. There’s no fucking way that he scored a date with you of all people. Maybe back in his “King Steve” days, but definitely not now.

“Y/n as in y/n l/n? No way dude. She’s way out of your league.” Dustin is laughing now as if he’s just heard the most funny joke.

“Gee, thanks, Henderson.” Steve grabs the tapes now that he’s put them back in the system, then turns his back, heading for the break room because it’s time for his thirty. He doesn’t have time for this.

He can hear the two of them still yapping as he closes the door. He reaches for his punch card, punching that he’s on his break then grabs his lunchbox from the fridge before sitting down at the table with a sigh.

“She gave him her number and everything. And let me tell you, she’s even hotter than they say.” Robin had never seen you in person until tonight and she totally understands why everyone is head over heels for you.

“Don’t believe me?” She asks, eyeing the purse on the counter that you had apparently left.

“This could be anybody’s,” Dustin glares at her just as you enter the store again. All of the air is sucked out of his lungs as he’s come to the realization that you are in fact real.

“Totally forgot my purse,” you tell Robin with a little laugh as you grab the thing from the counter, slinging it over your shoulder. You then turn in Dustin’s direction, staring at him with your signature bright smile. “And who might you be?” You ask, and Dustin’s mouth goes bone dry as he looks up at you. You really are hotter than they say.

“D-“ he clears his throat before trying to introduce himself again. “Dustin.”

“Dustin,” you repeat and his name sounds so angelic coming from your mouth. “That’s cute. Well, it was nice to meet you Dustin and I'll see you, Rob,” you wave at her from over your shoulder like you’re old friends and yeah, she’s going to be thinking about that for a very long time.

You flee the store yet again and Dustin’s eyes are following you as Robin opens a magazine, staring down at the page to hide her blushing cheeks. He’s trying to figure out how he can become four years older while Robin is crossing her fingers that you’re also into girls.

They both know it’s pathetic, especially since you’re going out with Steve tonight, but they can’t help it. There’s just something about you that draws people to you, like they’re all sailors being lured to their deaths and damn if that isn’t a good way to go.

It’s the way you carry yourself, as if you don’t have a care in the world. And you don’t. You just go around with all of that confidence and maybe that’s why everyone either envies or wants you. You never pay attention to that, though.

None of them truly know you and they don’t care to either. You’re just something pretty to look at, someone who will look good on their arm, but the second they get you into bed or even hang out with you with everyone watching, they’ll leave you in the drop of a hat. Because really, all they want is for you to make them look good.

But Steve? He actually treated you like a person. He wasn’t falling all over you, just genuinely trying to help you find a movie. You’re not usually one to randomly ask someone out, in fact, the whole thing made you super nervous. But he was so eager to agree and that made you feel like your usual self again.

You've heard a lot about Steve. You know his reputation and how he's very popular with the ladies, so you're surprised that he's available on a Saturday night. You figured that someone else would have already snatched him up and put a ring on it. You're both about that age now so it's honestly surprising that he's single. How has no woman in Hawkins come to their senses and married this man? You suppose you should be grateful since you're the lucky woman he's invited over tonight.

Steve exits the break room as soon as his break is over still thinking about you and how he still can't believe how you actually asked him out. The prettiest girl in Hawkins. Maybe he really does still have game.

He makes his way over to Robin feeling more confident than he has a long time. She's scribbling something down in a notebook and he lets out a deep sigh. He was really hoping that she would have gotten bored of that stupid game by now. But apparently not.

As always, his love life has just become a joke to everyone. Because it's just so funny that poor Stevie can't get a date. He'll die alone while everyone else will end up with someone. That's just his fate, he thinks.

The rest of the night goes by so slowly. It's almost painful for Steve to look at the clock, watching the minutes tick by at a glacial pace. He has never been so eager to go home, actually wanting to be there for the first time in a long time.

He's so close to asking Robin to close up for him because he just realized he doesn't have anything to eat or drink besides shitty beer and a pizza that's been in his freezer since he was a kid. But he decides that he'll just hurry to the store on his way home because he's already had her close for him more times than he can count.

"Would it offend you if I picked out your outfit for tonight? Because no offense, Steve, but this,” Robin refers to his outfit. "Is just not going to cut it.”

“Gee, thanks, Rob.” He's already nervous enough and doesn't need Robin making him second guess what he's going to wear even though he was already going to anyway.

“I'm just saying, would it kill you to switch it up every once in a while?”

“Are you of all people seriously trying to give me fashion advice right now?”

“What's that supposed to mean?” She crosses her arms over her chest as she leans against the counter, fixing Steve with a glare. He doesn't actually mean it, he just suddenly feels a lot of pressure about tonight and he's taking it out on her.

"Nothing, I'm just nervous, alright?" He runs a hand through his hair and just by the look on his face, she can see that he's telling the truth.

"Thought you didn't get nervous." She's smiling smugly now and Steve really doesn't appreciate it.

He ignores her and rounds the counter, making his way over to the door, turning the sign to signify that the store is now closed. He's now counting the minutes until he's able to go home, actively watching the hands on his watch tick, tick, tick by.

"I haven't done this in a while, alright?" He asks as he locks the door. "I'm a little rusty."

"A little?” She scoffs and Steve rolls his eyes.

“Alright a lot.”

“You need to relax. It’s just a date.” But it’s not, not to Steve. He thinks this could actually be something and he hopes he doesn’t blow it this time.

“So are you getting out of here or what?”

“What?” The question genuinely catches him off guard. He didn’t think she’d actually want to close for him since she’s done it so many times in the past.

“I can hold down the fort. Go get the girl, Steve.” He smiles widely, before pressing a kiss to Robin's cheek before hurrying out the door to his car. For once, he actually thinks he has a chance and he’s totally going to take it.

[humpster35]

“My baby’s, having a baby.”

Chratt finding out you’re pregnant

based on this

|contains: fluff, anxiety, guilt, crying, soft!bf chris, soft!bf matt, slight angst and decison making.

It was around 3pm when Matt and Chris left to go pick up some groceries for the house. I stood here in one of Matt’s old oversized shirts, Chris had teased us about this—saying how much better I looked in his clothes instead.

I watched as Nick heads back upstairs to his room, this was my time. With a whisper of my feet—I grabbed the bag on the sofa and ran to the bathroom.

“Please, please please.”

My words came out muttered. I don’t know what exactly I was asking for, or wanted. The pregnancy test in my hand made the hairs on the back of my neck stand. This was all happening too fast—I know starting this relationship up with the two brothers would lead to other things, but I guess I didn’t think about if a child would be coming into this world or not.

I inhaled one more time before going to pee on the stick. Good thing Chris gave me his last two pepsi’s to drink today—I had been having so many weird cravings all week. I don’t even think the boys recognized it as anything else but me being close to my period.

After I finished peeing, I sat the test on the bathroom counter. My anxiety was starting to spike at this point—I heard Nicks footsteps coming back down the stairs and he was gonna get suspicious sooner or later.

‘we didn’t even tell him’ I thought as I imagined how Nick would react finding out that not only his brothers were dating the same girl, sleeping with her—but they could’ve potientally gotten her pregnant.

As ten minutes past—I could heard the voices of Chris and Matt talking to Nick. ‘shit.’ They were back and I haven’t even looked at the test yet. My shaky hand reached out slowly—I didn’t wanna make any noise, my breathing stopped for a moment as I brought it close to my face.

‘positive’

The test read positive. I didn’t even know I was hyperventilating until Chris knocked on the bathroom door.

“Y/n, you okay?”

My voice couldn’t make any sound—it felt as if all the words I wanted to say, ran away from me, from this. So instead, I closed my eyes. I grabbed the test—putting it behind my back, then I slowly opened the door.

Chris’s face was bright—he’s always so bright and beautiful. He looked at me with such love, I watched as he softly pulled my arm—he led me out of the bathroom. My feet didn’t wanna move as he obliviously held onto me.

“Chris—I think, I think i’m tired.”

I watched as he chuckled. He let go of my arm—I was now standing in the middle of the living room. Nick was on his phone, as Matt put away the rest of the groceries.

“You think you’re tired?” Matt turned to me, his eyes giving me a knowing look.

I knew that he knew—Matt knew me much better than anyone else did. He could catch onto my moods before I even know something was wrong with me. Chris pulled me out of my thoughts—he led me to the couch.

“Baby what’s wrong? Was it something I did?”

I watch as Matt continues looking over at us, Nick stops scrolling on his phone—secretly listening in.

“Chris…..” My voice comes out in a whisper as I show him the pregnancy test.

Chris’s face dropped. He took the rest from my hands and immediately ran to show Matt.

“Matt—MATT LOOK.”

Matt rolls his eyes and snatches the test from Chris’s hand. I get up and move away from Nick—heading to the kitchen area where the boys are.

“Guys it’s not a big deal.” I quietly state. My face began to redden.

Chris started to opens his mouth—smiling while doing so. Matt put the test down on the kitchen counter, his hands going to his sides as his eyes brighten.

They both smile at me for a minute—not saying anything until Nick speaks up.

“Why the fuck are you guys yelling?” He walks over to us and basically pushes Matt to grab the pregnancy test.

“Ohmygod.” Nick said more so to himself—than us.

I watched anxiously as Nick looked at Chris. I don’t know what he could possibly be thinking right now—but I know it wasn’t good.

“Why are you both so excited that Y/n is pregnant? Firstly who have you been sleeping with, you didn’t tell me about anyone—.”

Matt stopped Nick from talking, his hand slowly took the test from his brothers hand. Chris let out a low sigh as he walked to the sofa.

I followed after him, not wanting to be seen by Nick right now. Nick has always been so protective over me—so if he was going to find out this information I just knew that he was gonna need time—a lot of time to process this whole situation.

“Nick, let’s go to the sofa.” Matt softly spoke.

“Why am I going to the sofa? Why is everyone being so weird?” Nick started to speak with sass, his wrist being held in Matt’s hand.

Once they sat on the sofa next to us—Nick was sitting on my left side, Chris was on my right and Matt was sitting on Nicks left side.

“Nick…we’ve been meaning to tell you something.”

Nick rolled his eyes. He nodded and motioned with his hand to continue.

Chris rubbed my back softly as he spoke. I looked at his face in admiration.

“Three months ago Y/n and I kissed—this led to us confessing our feelings for eachother. But it wasn’t enough, she didn’t fully commit. Matt was still a factor in all of this.”

I watched as Chris glanced at me, then my lips. He licked his lips then gestured to Matt to speak.

“So when Chris told me about the kiss, I was pissed at first sure. I did always like Y/n, but—we both did.”

Chris smiled softly at me, his eyes were so kind. I felt Nick take my hand into his—he furrowed his eyebrows.

“Y/n, you’re dating—you’ve been with both of my brothers?”

I didn’t know how to respond to him. My head hang low as my hair covered any emotion that was starting to show on my face. Nick gently rubbed his thumb over the top of my hand.

“Nick I know—I know this can be a little weird.”

Nick cut my off my dropping my hand. He knew that what I just said, confirmed his suspicions. As he stood up he looked down at all three of us.

“You guys have been fucking behind my back!?”

He was speaking a bit louder now as Matt and Chris studied my reaction. They knew how easy it was for me to become anxious and, with me being pregnant—Nicks temper tantrum about a secret relationship, wasn’t helping.

“Nick shut the fuck up, you’re overreacting.” Chris’s voice was protective. He didn’t yell, simply spoke sternly.

Matt got up and placed his hands on Nicks shoulders. Nick started to tear up, feeling overwhelmed.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Y/n i’m your bestfriend. You guys are my brothers—we, we’re supposed to tell each other everything.”

Nicks blue eyes were glassy. He stared into my eyes—waiting for an answer. I couldn’t do anything but start crying, this day has been all too much for me. As I stood up, I started to walk away into the bathroom. But Nick stopped me.

“Y/n please, i’m sorry—i’m so sorry.”

He pulled me in for a hug. His hand would go up and down my back—which helped ease my nerves. His tears felt wet against my back, I didn’t care though. Nick was my bestfriend and we had hidden this for so long from him.

“Nick we’re sorry. We don’t even know why or how it got this far. We never intended on keeping you in the dark at all.” Matt spoke up, he wrapped his arms around both Nick and I.

Chris pouted, he also wrapped his arms around us. He wanted to make everyone go back to being happy—he hated whenever I would cry, especially his brother.

“I’m gonna be an uncle.” Nick chuckled as s tears spilled from his eyes.

He smiled down at me, hand on my belly. I nodded and hugged him even tighter.

“My baby’s, got a baby.” Chris laughed.

Matt sighed in annoyance at his corny joke. Once we all let each other go—Matt pulled me in for a hug.

“I love you so much baby.”

My lip couldn’t stop quivering, I felt so many emotions at once. It was so nerve racking to experience this—I was just so glad that I had these guys here with me.

“Heyy I love her more.” Chris whined which made me chuckle.

I looked at everyone, then starting talking.

“Guys, i’m really grateful for you. I uh—I wanted to say that because.” I placed a hand on my stomach and rubbed it.

“This is all so new for me…I don’t know if i’m gonna be a good mom—.”

Matt and Chris cut me off.

“You will. You’re gonna be a great mom.” They say in sync.

I laughed and nodded. Nick snapped a picture of us as they stood beside me. Chris smiled softly at me, his hand rubbing my stomach while Matt rubbed my back.

“Wait.” Nick pulled our attention back to him.

He was making a puzzled expression as he sat his phone down. He pulled my arm gently and stood me in front of him.

“So whose baby is it?”

My heart dropped. Nick saw my eyes widen in fear and anxiety. He quickly looked behind me to see what Matt and Chris’s expression was.

“It’s mine.” They both said.

Nick threw his head back—while closing his eyes and groaned. I sighed and then sat on the couch—cradling my knees to my chest. I was in my comfort position.

Chris walked up to me, he sat down.

“We didn’t use a condom.”

Nicks eyes shot open and he instantly stood up. He grabbed his phone.

“No no nope—talk about this when i’m out of the room.” Nick said as he walked upstairs—practically tripping.

“Chris I know we didn’t but—.”

Matt sat down on the side of me. He tucked some hair behind my ear. His voice cutting me off.

“—We didn’t use one either.”

Chris groaned. This was a discussion that none of us planned on having. I put my legs down and grabbed both of their hands.

“Guys we can just go to the hospital and get a dna test.”

Matt and Chris glanced at each other. They were communicating telepathically about something before they turned to me, then nodded.

1 Month later

After doing a dna test on finding out whose sperm actually reached my womb, today was the day we got the results in the mail.

Chris paced back and forth, Matt bit his fingernails even more—while I chewed on some oranges that Chris had bought me. My head rested on the living room pillow as Matt gave me Mr Wrinkleton to hold.

“Guys don’t be scared okay?”

Chris stopped pacing and looked at me. His body immediately became more calm—his eyes softened at his two favorite people on the couch.

Matt turned towards me and opened his mouth. I fed him an orange while Chris brought us the letter.

“Okay guys, remember it doesn’t matter whose actual kid it is—we’re gonna take care of it. Right Matt?”

Chris looked at Matt, who nodded and i smiled at the two boys.

“Okay im gonna open it.”

My hands took the letter from Chris’s—he sat next to me, while removing the orange peels. I then opened it. The paper was thin, it didn’t have many words on it just the usual scientific aspect of the dna test.

“The sperm that has reached the inside of Ms. Y/n L/N….”

I begin slowly. I look at Matt and Chris’s nervous reactions. Nick was at a space camp meeting, but he told me to tell him about it later on. I wish he was here right now.

“Belongs to….”

Chris squeezed my thigh, Matt stared intently at my lips as I spoke. The next words could change everything—every friendship and relationship we’ve built. They say they would raise the baby anyways but, how would they feel if it didn’t technically belong to them???

With a deep breath, I read the next words in my head. It left me shocked.

“—.”

Oh noo I wonder whose baby it is🙈🤭

tag list💌

@mattsweethart @mattspillowprincess @mattswrinkleton @angelcake-222 @chrissonnyangel @chrissleftshoe @chrisbratt333 @chrismalfoy @chrissfavgirlie @eeyoresturnz @eyesonmattyb @chrattvibe @chrattho1 @lyingonchris @liaisbroke @lezleeferguson-120 @passionfruitchris @lifecansmd @whore4chris @owensbabygirl @obsessedwiththesturniolos @theyluvivi @dolliraez @nickssidewitch @oopsiedaisydeer @csturnioloswifey @stvni0l0 @sturniolofruitloop @sturnispider

[lostazuree]

Hey there! >.<

Can I request some fluff Relationship HCs for Blue Lock boys? (Please add Isagi and Rin)

✰  ࣪ 𝜗𝜚 ̟ 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝑪𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔 ⸻ 𝑩𝒍𝒖𝒆 𝑳𝒐𝒄𝒌 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒔.

☆𝑭𝒕. —𝑰𝒔𝒂𝒈𝒊 𝒀𝒐𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒊, 𝑰𝒕𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊 𝑹𝒊𝒏, 𝑩𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒓𝒂 𝑴𝒆𝒈𝒖𝒓𝒖, 𝑵𝒂𝒈𝒊 𝑺𝒆𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒓𝒐.☆

✦ 𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐈 𝐘𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈

•Inexperienced ASF and I mean it. He never really had interest in dating until he got with you.

• Completely opposite of what he is on the field, of course. He's soft with you (or tries to be, really 😭)

• His idea of a date would be a picnic or a movie.

• He'd like cuddles and stuff, as much as he wouldn't admit.

• Will wake you up with forehead kisses. LOVES texting you. Will tell you where he is, where he's going, when and how.

• Possessive even if he doesn't mean to be.

•Love language? Words of affection. (Beware of any slipped slurs)

✦ 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐑𝐈𝐍

• Now Rin, may be known as the Nonchalant Final Boss but he's very chalant(?)when it comes to you (or he tries to be).

• His Idea of a date would definitely be a quiet coffee date, or a horror movie-binge night.

• I see him wanting to be on the receiving end of affection, definitely loves forehead kisses, hand holding and stuff.

• NOT a fan of PDA. Doesn't mean he'll ignore you, but he'll hold hands at max.

• Thinks petnames are cheezy, but will blush when you call him something cute. Dry texter for sure. He has trouble expressing himself.

• Before any match, he'll hand you his spare jersey without any word, and you know what that means. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘪𝘵 to his match.

• Will buy you stuff if he sees you eyeing something.

• He doesn't have a love language. He speaks fluent INGARISHU. (Acts of service for sure.) He gives you head pats.

✦ 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐀 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

• Now, Bachira is a certified baby boy. (GREEN FLAG FR). He will treat you like you're divine, but will also treat you like a demon.

• Bachira's idea of a date would be playing soccer in the rain, no fancy stuff. Sprawled out on the couch? Date.

• Clingy. Loves PDA. He'll hold your waist, hand, whatever he can in public. Very possessive in a loving way.

• He loves talking, but if there's something he likes more than soccer and yapping, it's to hear you yap. Great listener, will hold your hand while you talk.

• He gets the 'heart in eyes' look when you wear his clothes. He gets shy. YES. Best texter too, sends you memes and very enthusiastic responses.

• Calls you stuff like 'Sunshine', 'My love', 'Sweetheart'. And he expects you to call him something cute too!

• His love language is Physical touch for sure.

✦ 𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐈 𝐒𝐄𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎

• Lazy AF, if you didn't already know. But believe me, he will try to put efforts.

• His idea of a date is chilling at home, playing video games. Sleeping together? Date.

• He's a very dry texter, and a good(?)listener. Or rather, tries to be one.

• Clingy. Very Clingy. Then comes Nagi Seishiro. He'll won't let you go. PDA? Hah! As if he touches grass aside from soccer.

• He sends you random game-related memes. If he folds your laundry for you, he's damn well committed.

• His love language is using his revives on you after you die in some stupid game (Romantic).

• He lets you eat all his snacks. Brushes your hair away from your face while you sleep, because if he can't fall asleep (barely ever), he'll look at you while you sleep.

Thank you so much for reading! It was my first time writing HCs, I had fun. Hopefully, gonna write more in future. Reblogs highly appreciated 🖐🏻🎀

[batsandbirdbrains]

The one where the team tries to capture Catwoman

So in yj season 1, I think it would be funny if something was going on during a mission near Gotham, and Robin gets separated from the team for a bit. Then when he gets back to the bioship, he stops dead in his tracks and just stares at them.

Because they have Catwoman tied up. In his chair.

“Hey guys,” he says with a false little cheer, “what have you got here?”

“Robin!” M’gann looks so excited. “We captured Catwoman! Batman is going to be so pleased!”

Robin lets out a little “Heh, sure,” before he takes a step forward. “So why did you guys tie up Catwoman?”

“To - to take her back to Batman,” M’gann stutters.

Robin actually snorts, covering his mouth to hide his smirk. Catwoman clearly sees right through him, and she very obviously rolls her eyes at him.

“Laugh it up, birdie,” she drawls. “I was distracted.”

“I’m sure,” Robin laughs. Then he sobers up, and he sighs before shaking his head a little bit. Then he puts his hands on his hips and smirks at her. “So does B know you’re gonna get delivered to him, all tied up with a bow on top? Should I wear headphones to bed tonight?”

“Just untie me, you little cretin.”

Robin shakes his head, making a little tsk tsk noise as he wags a finger at her.

“That’s no way to speak to your liberator!”

“Careful, birdie,” Catwoman says, her voice low in warning, “or I’ll convince the bat to ship you off to boarding school.”

“He wouldn’t dare,” Robin challenges. “I’d ruin his life and he knows it.”

“Uh, Robin,” Wally pipes in. “What the hell is going on?”

“Congratulations!” Robin tells his team, clapping his hands once and keeping them clasped as he leans forward. “You’ve managed to capture my sort-of-step-mom-of-the-month!”

“Hey!” Catwoman complains. “I am not the bat’s flavor of the month!”

“Tell that to Talia,” Robin snorts. “She was last month’s.”

Catwoman is fuming. The team is horrified to realize that Batman has a sex life. Robin is just enjoying the chaos. It’s delicious.

“If it’s any consolation,” Robin says sweetly, “I like you best.”

“Aww, how sweet,” Catwoman says sarcastically. “Now. Untie me.”

“What’s in it for me?”

They stare at each other for a long few minutes, no one saying a word. Then Catwoman sighs and closes her eyes before opening them slowly, glaring at Robin.

“Name your price.”

“I want you to smuggle me in a cherry pie. A whole one, from the bakery near Robinson Park. And a pint of pistachio gelato from the ice cream place by Monarch Theater. And two liters of Dr. Pepper. Full sugar, not diet!”

“Please tell me you’re not going to eat them together?” Catwoman sounds completely disgusted.

“So what if I am? You asked my price, I gave it to you! Deal or no deal?”

“Deal. Now get let me go!”

Robin unties her with a smirk on his face the entire time.

“Pleasure doing business,” he says sweetly to her as he pulls off the last rope. “Text me if I need my headphones tonight, will ya? Last weekend was traumatizing. I’m a child. I’m not supposed to know what my guardian and his girlfriend get up to at night.”

“You’re a menace.”

“And you’re loud.”

Catwoman damn near hisses at him, but Robin just continues smiling. She dusts off her costume, then huffs.

“I’ll bring your goods by tonight. Leave your window unlocked.”

“Will do.” He gives her a lazy salute, and she shoves him to the side a bit as she leaves. Robin just cackles.

“Dude,” Wally mutters, sounding so defeated. “Did you just let her go?”

“Batman would’ve just yelled at you guys anyway,” Robin says with a shrug. “Leave the Gotham villains to the Gotham heroes, or Batman will have a cow.”

Robin goes to sit in his seat, and M’gann reluctantly starts piloting the ship back to Mount Justice.

“If anything, you guys should be feeling sorry for me,” Robin says dramatically, a hand over his chest. “I’m the one who’s gonna have to listen to her complain about it when she inevitably visits him later tonight. Ugh, I can picture it now. Someone get me a puke bag!”

He gags, holding at his throat for extra dramatics.

“Have I ever told you that your life is so weird?” Wally asks.

“Several times, yes, thank you for pointing out the obvious.”

They get back to Mount Justice, and no one mentions anything about Catwoman.

Dick tells Bruce once they get back to the batcave. Selina ends up dropping off his payment later that night. Ten minutes later, Dick groans and puts on his noise cancelling headphones, then continues eating pie and gelato from his bed.

[galaxybonez]

Hi!! I wanted to ask, how would your Sanses feel dating a very Submissive S/O? Like not *just* a sub on the dirty stuff. I mean as a person who avoids conflicts, is very soft spoken and would rather go along with whatever plans/choices their partner makes intead of having to be the one to make them themselves or lead the way in general. A sheep, in a nice way, not like a doormat.

Ooohhh this one stumped me for a little bit! I hope it's what you're looking for, anon! I only did the main three starting off - otherwise it would have taken me forever to get this out - BUT I'm willing to continue it with some of the other boys if anyone requests it!

Sans

- Sans worries about you a lot. He met you not too long after the barrier shattered, at a time where he was still weary and suspicious of most humans he met. Timid is how he would have described you, then. Quiet, always agreeing with everyone around you without really expressing your own thoughts or opinions.

- If he were to be honest, he still can’t believe that he was able to get close to you, but his patience paid off.

- Sans knows your boundaries and doesn’t push them. Over time he learns how to read you, able to pinpoint how you feel about something by your body language or even the smallest change in expression; and, as you get closer, the vibes your soul gives off.

- As time goes on, you eventually start opening up to him. Being honest about what you would like to do or how you feel about something without worrying about people pleasing.

- He likes making sure you’re comfortable.

- Sans has been your willing excuse many times to get out of something you really don’t want to do and have a hard time saying no to.

- Sans is your safe haven. Comfort personified into a cuddly skeleton whom is always there to listen to you, even if it isn't through your words.

Red

- Red never would have seen himself being with someone who doesn't have a backbone. Where he comes from, violence was common. He learned from a very young age that he had to fight back. To be rough, to be cruel. Kill or be killed, and he had his brother to think about. Red isn't ashamed to admit that he's gotten his hands dirty.

- To put it lightly, a soft little thing wasn't his idea of an ideal partner.

- At least… until he had met you.

- It doesn't matter how you met. So what if you wandered into Grillby's without reading the room? So what if your cute little face melted his would faster than an iceblock in hotland? So what if some poor unfortunate monster ended up with a few broken bones?

- Red is protective. You're the first good thing he's had in years, and like hell is anyone going to direct a finger or cruel remark in your direction.

- He's no dummy, he knows you don't like conflict. Always agreeing with everyone, never saying no even if you're uncomfortable. You avoid conflict like the plague.

- You've had to reiterate to him many, many times that you're no damsel. He doesn't need to protect you. You're an adult, you can handle yourself.

- He could not give less of a shit. Red is the embodiment of scary dog privileges and he will bite.

Blue

- Blue finds the surface fascinating, and humans themselves just as much. He likes humans, even if they don't always like him. When he met you, he became instantly enamored. You'd stood up for him; nothing big, just telling one particularly opinionated lady to back off, but it stuck with him and he made it his mission to get to know you.

- In doing so, he came to realize that although you took up for him… you're not as quick to do it for yourself. Or at all. Any kind of conflict at all and you tend to avoid it.

- You're too agreeable.

- Blue is protective too, but not nearly as much as Red. Blue is a lot more open to letting you fight your own battles unless he deems it necessary for him to step in.

- Out of everyone, it's blue who pushes you to more assertive. He doesn't push, of course, but he… aggressively encouraged you to look out for yourself more.

- Tell someone no. Voice your own opinions, don't just go along with what everyone else if you don't agree. It's okay!

- He uses positive reinforcement, too. Oh, you told that pushy coworker no? Hell yeah cupcake, he's proud of you! Let's go get ice cream!

- If not, though, he's perfectly happy to be an ear if you just want to talk about it or a shoulder if you need to cry.

- You'll get ice cream either way.

[obvithe-bestsoph]

prompt 34 w pau? 🥰

No. 34 | "Why is it so hard for you to accept that you're lovable?" PC2

masterlist requests

prompt list (if you request a prompt, please request a player for it as well!) warnings: kind of bad mental health/self esteem. pau comforts though.

The door clicks shut behind you, louder than you mean for it to be. You wince, toe off your shoes, and set your bag down by the wall with a little too much force. Everything about you is tense. Your shoulders ache, your jaw is tight, and your hands are curled into fists at your sides.

Pau looks up from the couch, eyebrows furrowed as he sees your face. "Bad day?" he asks gently, already setting aside the remote.

You don’t answer. You shake your head, walk past him into the kitchen, open the fridge, then close it again. No appetite. No energy. You feel brittle. One wrong word and you’re going to crack.

He appears behind you a moment later, keeping a bit of space between you. "Talk to me."

"I’m fine," you say, voice dull and flat.

"You're not."

Your eyes start to sting. You grip the counter hard enough to make your knuckles pale. "I don’t want to do this right now."

"I know." His voice stays soft. "But you're clearly hurting."

You turn around, not yelling, not crying, just completely exhausted. "What do you want me to say, Pau? That I feel like I’m constantly screwing up? That I don’t know how to be enough?"

His face shifts instantly. You can see the pain in his eyes like it’s physical. "Enough for who?"

"For everyone," you whisper. "For school. For my family. For you."

He steps a little closer, slowly and carefully. You can see him trying to make sense of it all.

"Me?" he asks.

You nod, eyes fixed on a spot on the floor. "I feel like I mess everything up. Like I’m too much and not enough all at once. And you’re... you. You're calm and steady and good. And I’m a mess."

Pau breathes in through his nose and exhales slowly. "You’re not a mess. You’re a person who’s struggling."

Your lip trembles. You still won’t look at him. "It’s hard to believe you mean it when you say you love me."

There it is. The truth. The rawest part of it.

He goes quiet. Not the kind of silence that means he’s upset. Just still. Focused.

Then he asks, quietly, "Why is it so hard for you to accept that you're lovable?"

Your throat tightens so much it hurts. You want to tell him everything. That it’s because you were taught to believe love had to be earned. That it always felt conditional. That you’ve never really seen yourself as someone worth holding onto.

But you don’t say any of that. You just shrug. "I don’t know. It just is."

He steps forward finally. His arms come around you without hesitation. His hug is strong and grounding. You sink into it like it’s the only solid thing left in the world.

"You don’t have to be perfect to be loved," he murmurs into your hair. "You don’t have to hold it together all the time to deserve care."

Your eyes burn again. You grip the back of his shirt like if you let go, you’ll float away.

"I’m scared, Pau," you whisper. "I’m scared I’m too much. That one day you’ll get tired of picking up the pieces."

He pulls back just enough to look at you. His hands stay on your waist like he’s anchoring you.

"Listen to me," he says, his voice stronger now, but still kind. "I’m not here because it’s easy. I’m here because I love you. Every part. Even the ones you think are unlovable."

Your bottom lip wobbles. "But what if—"

"No. No what ifs. I’m not leaving. Not because you’re sad. Not because you feel broken. Not because you can't see what I see."

You blink hard as the first tear slips down your cheek. Pau brushes it away with his thumb.

"You’re allowed to fall apart," he says. "That doesn’t make you harder to love. It makes you human."

You stare at him, heart pounding, throat full of all the things you’ve never said. All the times you’ve swallowed your pain to make sure no one else had to carry it.

But he’s still here. Still holding you. Still looking at you like you're worth it.

"I’m trying," you breathe. "I really am."

"I know." He kisses your forehead with quiet care. "And I’m right here while you do."

You lean into him again and let the silence settle around you. This time, it feels like peace.

It feels like home.

[howlingday]

Apples

Ruby: Hey, thanks for bringing me to Apples, Yang. I've been seeing a lot of ads, especially the giant ones for their massive pies, and you know you gotta eat at least one of those~!

Yang: Just because it's big, it doesn't mean you have to eat it. Like, yeah, it's a pie, but what kinda calories are you getting?

Ruby: But it's so huge~! Have you seen the ads?!

Yang: ...On the billboards?

Ruby: Yeah~!

Yang: That's not actual size, Ruby. Those are just billboards.

Ruby: Oh... Well, how big is it?

Yang: I mean, I dunno... Big pie size? But I don't really see any... I don't see anything but apples on here.

Ruby: Oh, uh... Well, they have apple-smoked burgers.

Yang: I'm not eating apple-flavored burgers, Ruby. That's like an oatmeal raisin when you think it's chocolate chip kind of messed up.

Ruby: But it tastes so good, though~!

Yang: Does this Apples place really have nothing but apples? Is there, like, a secret menu for less fiber in your diet or something?

Ruby: Oh, I've been to diners that are like that! You say, "Bring me an apple and make it cry~!"

Yang: Sounds like something I'd do to Jaune, but I'm not in the mood for bullying him-

Ruby: No, it's- It's where they put onions in it!

Yang: ...Why would- You know what? Nevermind. I've got bigger fish to fry here, specifically with YOU, Ruby Rose, because we need to talk about your... promiscuity that I keep seeing in the tabloids.

Ruby: Is... Is there too much of it?

Yang: Yeah! I think so, at least! I mean, it's like- Look, I'm not telling you how to live your life, but maybe you should slow down?

Ruby: ...On our promiscuity?

Yang: What-

Ruby: Are- Are we running low on promiscuity? I don't really keep track of economics and-

Yang: No, I'm talking about us!

Ruby: Us as in Team RWBY-?

Yang: NOT Team RWBY!

Ruby: Yang, are you mad about boys again?

Yang: I am talking about the boys you're dating!

Ruby: ...Oh.

Yang: I mean, I'm mad about other boys, too, but don't get me started on them! One thing at a time, please.

Ruby: Are they not being careful?

Yang: Careful with what?

Ruby: Promiscuity!

Yang: Why would I care about boys being promiscuous?

Ruby: Isn't that our job? Like, as huntresses, to make sure nobody's taking more than their fair share?

Yang: Ruby-

Ruby: Are we going to New Atlas again? I don't want to have to renew my passport again! I have to sit and stare at a camera for, like, two minutes, and then I have to wait two weeks for it to show up and-

Yang: Ruby, listen to me- Look at me!

Ruby: Yang, why is it every time we hang out, we have to talk about politics, or economics, or about Dad? It's like I'm talking to Uncle Qrow!

Yang: Yeah, well, I am starting to be like Uncle Qrow. Every time I sit down and talk to him and Dad, I feel like I'm agreeing with them. I don't like that. And speaking of Dad, you know that he's not happy with all of this stuff that you've been doing because of me. You know how he is; he's all old fashioned and he doesn't approve. He thinks that I'm somehow making lien from what you're doing, and he doesn't approve of it!

Ruby: Yang, every time you talk about traditions and other economic stuff, I get confused. Can we talk about guns?

Yang: Ruby, I didn't ask you to lunch so we can talk about guns. I want to talk about your promiscuity.

Ruby: I don't have any promiscuity right now! Is there a market crash? I don't know! Do you want to talk about Blue-

Yang: Ruby, this is important! Aside from what we've got going on, you should look into finance... stuff. I've been reading about schools teaching kids about promiscuity now, and speaking of-

Ruby: I don't know what the promiscuity thing is right now! I wanna talk about Blue!

Yang: What is Blue?

Ruby: It's a gun-

Yang: Is Blue doing promiscuity?

Ruby: No, it's a semi-automatic rifle! I don't know if it uses promiscuity. I didn't see anything about it.

Yang: Then why would I want to talk about guns?!

Ruby: Why do you want to talk about promiscuity if it makes you angry?!

Jaune: Are you ready to order? Or would you like a little more time?

Yang: No, no, we're ready. I'm gonna get... Uh... Uhm... ...apple-smoked burger.

Jaune: Okay.

Ruby: Apple-smoked burger~!

Jaune: Two apple-smoked burgers...

Ruby: And could you make them cry, please?

Jaune: ...You want onions in your burger?

Ruby: Yes~!

Jaune: Okay. (Takes menus) By the way, congratulations on you setting up your sister on another date. (Walks away)

Yang: Thanks, man...

Yang: ...NO, WAIT! JAUNE! I DIDN'T- ARGH! See, this is exactly what I'm talking about, Ruby!

Ruby: You can't blame boys with promiscuity for Jaune being a waiter.

Yang: That's not what I'm talking about! But that- Well, you know- Jaune could be promiscuous with those other boys back there! And any one of those boys could get promiscuous with you! Maybe, so-

Ruby: You know, Blue also has a safety feature for dust use.

Yang: ...Ruby, I need you to stop telling boys I'm setting you up on dates.

Ruby: Wait, why is Jaune a waiter?

Yang: Oh, uh, I think I heard his girlfriend is kind of a NEET.

Ruby: He's dating somebody?

Yang: ...Yeah?

Ruby: When did he start dating?

Yang: Uh... Crap, like, uh...

Ruby: Do they have kids?

Yang: I don't think so.

Ruby: You don't think so, or he doesn't?

Yang: I mean, I don't- Like, we haven't really talked lately, so I don't-

Ruby: Well, I mean... Can you ask him?

Yang: ...Sis, I am not asking Jaune if he has kids. Besides, I think we're supposed to already know that.

Ruby: Well, is there anyone we know who would know?

Yang: I've never even seen his girlfriend.

Jaune: (Brings in cake) Congratulations~! Congratulations~! Congratulations~! You've done a special thing~!

Ruby: YAY~!

Yang: RUBY-

Jaune: I talked with the chef and he said you can have this free cake. Because you're such good sisters for setting each other up on dates.

Yang: Jaune, nobody set anyone up on dates at this table.

Jaune: Yes, you did. You both said you set each other up on the news.

Yang: Okay, Jaune, buddy, you're getting this all wrong-

Jaune: Oh no, did I get you two mixed up? (About to cry) Oh, god, I'm so sorry~!

Ruby: (Cuts off slice, Eats it)

Yang: No, no, that's not what I'm saying.

Jaune: I was so sure! I asked Nora and Ren just to be sure, and they said they thought so too!

Yang: Dammit, Jaune, nobody set anyone up!

Jaune: Oh no, unless...

Yang: ...Unless? Unless what?

Ruby: (Bites into burger, Turns green)

Jaune: Unless you forgot? Oh my god, I am so sorry... You both probably forgot together and now I've ruined you two trying to make up. (Tearing up) Oh my god... I'm- I'm not supposed to cry during work hours anymore... I- I have to go! I'm sorry! (Leaves)

Yang: Jaune, wait- Ugh... ...So, uh, how's your onion-apple burger thing?

Ruby: Oh, it's garbage. But at least the cake is good~!

[randomthefox]

the fact that you think any child asking for attention or crying out for favoritism of a Dead Child over them is somehow manipulative or “spoiled” behavior is just too much, man. please never raise children

Very clunkily written. Difficult to parse what the point you're trying to make even is because of how grammatically broken this sentence is. You are very clearly illiterate, which is why you aren't capable of reading this and understanding the obvious intended take away from it.

Eggman isn't "asking for attention" in this. And you're just as emotionally stunted and psychotic as Eggman is if you're interpreting his family speaking with reverence about a child who passed away due to tragedy as "favoritism."

Like dude I don't know what to tell you. If you're reading this and thinking we're supposed to feel any amount of sympathy for Eggman at all, then you're honestly just stupid and illiterate. The intention of what this memo is communicating about Eggmans character could NOT be more clear and straight forward. The game is practically spoon feeding the correct interpretation to us, fucking look at the way it's written. "All that love for someone who was gone when I was! Right! There!" You don't even need Mike Pollocks impeccable delivery to Get It and yet if you listened to it that'd make it even more overt.

Lil' Eggman heard his family members talking with deep sadness about how special Maria was while MOURNING the fact that she died so tragically young. His reaction to that was to think "Why do y'all care so much about her stupid dead ass? I'M right here, and I'M the best and the smartest and the coolest!"

Because he's FUCKING EVIL and ALWAYS WAS. That is EVIL SHIT. That goes BEYOND the typical behavior you can expect from a spoiled underdeveloped child whose capacity for empathy hasn't been fully developed yet. That is indicative of legitimately concerning issues. Imagine if this happened in real life. Imagine if a family was talking about a TWELVE YEAR OLD GIRL tragically dying due to a government cover up an accident and in the same room a five to ten year old kid said out loud "why do you all care about her so much? She's dead! Pay attention to ME instead!" Would you assume that child was neglected? Or would you assume that child was FUCKING INSANE?

Even the way Eggman ends the memo by comparing Sage to Maria. It's like he's trying to "steal" the special reverence his family had for Maria and imbue Sage with it. It's like he's thinking "everyone loved Maria so much because she was like Sage!" Develop a capacity for literacy and pay attention to the specific way I wrote that sentence on purpose: Maria was like Sage. NOT "Sage is like Maria." Meditate on what I am implying this means about Eggmans mentality and outlook on these two other characters.

[sturnzsblog]

Empty dreams and false promises 3

summary: y/n life changes and not for the best she is forced to move in with three people that she barely knows. She ends up falling for one of these strangers, but who will it be?

Warnings: mentions of death, stalking, drugs ( not actual use) and smut! this is for all parts of the story! please let me know if i missed any!

The first night in the house was strange. Not bad… just strange.

I didn’t sleep much. The mattress was too soft. The sheets smelled too new. And the silence was a different kind than I was used to. In New York, silence had sirens in the background. Dripping faucets. Yelling neighbors. Something to fill the dark.

Here? It was quiet in a way that made me feel like the walls were listening.

When morning finally came, sunlight spilled in through the massive window. I didn’t move. I just stared at the ceiling for a long time, trying to make sense of the world I’d landed in. My dad would’ve made pancakes. He would’ve barged into my room with music blasting from his phone, dancing like a dork and trying to make me laugh.

Instead, the house was still.

I got up, dragging my feet across the cold floor. My suitcase sat unopened in the corner, a sad little reminder of everything I didn’t want to unpack—physically or emotionally.

I started with the closet. It was massive. Too massive. I felt like I was standing inside a department store dressing room. Still, I pulled out a hoodie and a pair of leggings, trying not to care how wrinkled they were.

When I looked at myself in the full-length mirror, I almost didn’t recognize the girl staring back. Puffy eyes. Hollow cheeks. Hair a messy. It was not cute.

“Whatever,” I mumbled. “You’re not here to impress anyone.”

After brushing my teeth and forcing myself to splash cold water on my face, I made my way downstairs.

The smell of toast hit me first. Then I heard music—soft and low, like background noise. When I turned the corner into the kitchen, I found Matt standing at the stove, wearing plaid pajama pants and a navy hoodie, humming along to some old rock song.

He looked up and smiled when he saw me.

“Morning, sleepyhead.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You’re cooking?”

“Well… I’m toasting,” he said, holding up a slightly burnt slice of bread. “Cooking is a generous term.”

I gave a small laugh. “Is this your way of welcoming me to the family? Charcoal breakfast?”

“No,” he said with a smirk. “This is my way of saying ‘I forgot how high the heat was.’”

He turned off the stove and grabbed a jar of peanut butter, setting it on the counter beside a plate of eggs.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked,” he said. “So I made options. Scrambled eggs, toast, cereal, or… I can totally pretend I know how to make pancakes.”

I blinked. “You didn’t have to do all this.”

“I know. That’s why I did.”

Something in my chest cracked a little.

I sat at the counter and reached for the cereal. “This is fine. Thank you.”

He nodded and sat across from me, nursing a cup of coffee.

“So,” he said after a moment, “did you sleep okay?”

I stirred the cereal around with my spoon. “Sort of.”

He didn’t push. Just gave a small nod like he understood exactly what “sort of” meant.

“Your room feel okay?” he asked.

“It’s huge. I keep expecting someone to tell me I walked into the wrong house.”

“You didn’t,” he said gently. “It’s yours now.”

I didn’t say anything.

Matt set his coffee down and leaned back in his chair. “Can I show you something later?”

I glanced up. “Like what?”

“Just something small,” he said. “A good distraction.”

The word distraction caught my attention. That was what I needed—something, anything, to make the ache inside me stop pulsing for a minute.

“Okay,” I said quietly.

“Cool,” he smiled. “No pressure. Just whenever you feel like it.”

After breakfast, I wandered back upstairs and finally opened my suitcase. I unpacked slowly, folding my clothes and placing them in drawers that still smelled like lemon cleaner. I lined my books on the shelf, trying to pretend I wasn’t thinking about the fact that my dad bought me half of them.

Every now and then, I’d pause and sit on the bed, staring out the window or scrolling through old pictures on my phone. It hurt. But it also helped. Like pressing a bruise just to feel something real.

Later that afternoon, Matt knocked on my door.

“You decent?”

“Yeah,” I called.

He stepped in with a little grin. “Wanna come see my favorite part of the house?”

“Sure.”

We walked down the hall to the other wing of the house. He led me to a small room tucked behind a sliding door.

When he pushed it open, I blinked.

It wasn’t a gaming room or a theater like I expected.

It was a small music room.

There was an old upright piano by the window. A guitar on a stand in the corner. A little shelf filled with vinyl records and speakers.

Matt walked over to the piano and sat down, brushing his fingers across the keys.

“I come in here when I can’t think straight,” he said. “I don’t really play anything well. But it helps.”

I stepped inside slowly, feeling like I was intruding on something sacred.

“You play?” he asked.

I shook my head. “No. But… this room’s nice.”

“It’s quiet. Like the good kind of quiet,” he said.

I sat on the floor, my back against the wall, pulling my knees to my chest. Matt tapped out a soft tune. Nothing complex. Just simple chords that filled the space like a lullaby.

We didn’t talk for a few minutes. And somehow, it wasn’t awkward.

“Thank you,” I said suddenly.

He looked over. “For what?”

“For not treating me like I’m about to break.”

Matt’s smile faded into something softer. “You don’t have to thank me. You’re not broken, Y/N. You’re grieving.”

I nodded slowly. “Sometimes I can’t tell the difference.”

He stood and crossed the room, then sat beside me against the wall.

“I can,” he said gently. “And I’ll remind you whenever you forget.”

I didn’t realize I was crying until he handed me a tissue from his hoodie pocket.

“I didn’t know people like you existed,” I whispered.

He smiled faintly. “You’ve just been around the wrong people.”

For the first time in days, I believed that maybe—just maybe—I’d landed somewhere I was meant to be.

Even if I didn’t ask for it.

Even if it hurt.

It was like a cycle kinda

The next morning started like the one before—quiet, a little stiff, but less foreign than yesterday.

Matt knocked on my door around 10 a.m., already holding a smoothie in one hand and a pair of car keys in the other. “You wanna get out of the house? I was thinking bagels, maybe a bookstore.”

I blinked sleep from my eyes. “You really know the way to a girl’s heart, huh?”

He smirked. “I try.”

I didn’t change into anything fancy—just jeans, sneakers, and a hoodie—but I actually cared a little more today about what I looked like. Maybe it was because Matt made things easier. Or maybe I was just tired of feeling like a ghost in someone else’s life.

We hit up a little bagel shop down the road, and I swear it smelled like heaven. We sat by the window, and Matt told me stories about his high school years—nothing too deep, just light stuff. Enough to make me laugh.

I forgot for a second.

Forgot I was supposed to be sad.

Forgot I didn’t belong here.

But that bubble didn’t last long.

When we got back to the house, Matt opened the door and called out, “Yo, Chris! You alive?”

I paused at the entrance, holding my cup.

“Chris?” I repeated, looking over at him.

“My brother,” Matt said, tossing his keys on the console table. “He’s been out since yesterday. Probably slept all day, that bum.”

Brother.

Right. Matt had a brother. I remember Jimmy mentioning it briefly when I arrived. But there’d been no sight of him. Honestly, I thought he might’ve been a ghost.

Turns out, he was real—and very much wide awake.

A guy came around the corner, yawning and rubbing his neck, like he just dragged himself out of a grave. He had the same pretty blue eyes as Matt, the same lean build. But his hair was longer, messier. And the second he saw me, he froze.

He wasn’t smiling.

I stood awkwardly in the foyer, one foot on the welcome mat like I hadn’t earned permission to walk all the way in yet.

“Chris,” Matt said, motioning between us, “this is Y/N. She’s staying with us now.”

Chris’s eyes flicked over me—once, then again. Not in a creepy way. More like he was scanning me. Trying to figure me out.

“Cool,” he muttered. Then turned and started walking toward the kitchen like I was just another random delivery.

I blinked.

“O-kay,” I mumbled under my breath.

Matt gave me an apologetic look. “He’s not usually like that. I mean—okay, yeah, he is kind of like that. But he’ll warm up. Eventually.”

“He doesn’t have to,” I said quickly. “I’m not trying to be best friends with the entire household.”

“Still,” Matt said, leading me inside. “He’ll come around. Don’t take it personally.”

Spoiler alert: I did take it personally.

Later that afternoon, I wandered into the kitchen to grab a glass of water. Chris was there, leaning against the counter, eating a granola bar and scrolling on his phone.

He didn’t look up when I walked in.

I opened the cabinet, grabbed a cup, and tried to act natural. Like the air between us wasn’t stiff as hell.

But then—of course—I dropped the glass.

It shattered everywhere, loud and sharp against the tile.

“Shit,” I whispered, jumping back.

Chris finally looked up and blinked slowly. “Nice.”

I glared at him. “It slipped.”

“Maybe don’t grab it like it’s made of rubber next time.”

I crouched down and started picking up the pieces with shaking fingers. My chest burned—whether from anger or embarrassment, I couldn’t tell.

Chris sighed and grabbed a broom. “You’re gonna cut your hand open.”

“I’m fine,” I muttered, even though a shard had already nicked my thumb.

He gently nudged me aside with the broom and started sweeping. “Seriously. Just—chill. You don’t have to prove you belong here by bleeding all over the kitchen.”

My head snapped up. “Excuse me?”

He didn’t flinch. “You heard me.”

I stared at him, my heart hammering now for a very different reason.

“I didn’t ask to be here,” I said, my voice shaking. “Believe me, I’d rather be anywhere else.”

Chris tossed the glass in the trash and stood tall, arms crossed. “Then go.”

I blinked.

“Door’s right there,” he added, nodding toward the front. “Nobody’s stopping you.”

I stood frozen, fists clenched, heart racing.

Matt walked in a second later, instantly sensing the tension.

“What the hell happened?”

I didn’t answer. I just pushed past both of them and stormed upstairs to my room, slamming the door harder than I meant to.

I sat on my bed, shaking, tears burning behind my eyes.

I wasn’t angry at Chris, not really. I was angry at everything. The fact that my dad was gone. That I was stuck in this stranger’s house with people who didn’t understand what it felt like to lose everything in one blink. That some part of me felt like I had to belong here because there was nowhere else to go.

Chris was just the one who said it out loud.

Maybe that’s why it hurt.

[lesbianjudasiscariot]

I'm also trying to find new artists, do you have any recommendations? You seem to have good taste in music and I'm also disappointed with lesbian playlists so I understand

tyty ♡ okay quick disclaimer idk for 100% certainty that all of these artists are lesbians but they sure did make some lesbian songs and i'd love to recommend them to you ♡

Alix Dobkin - I Only Want to be With You

Ana Egge - Dance Around the Room With Me

Arlo Parks - Impurities

Between Thorns - Brainwashed

Bitch and Animal - Boy Girl Wonder

Brandi Carlile - Josephine

The Butchies - Insult to Injury

Catie Curtis - Kiss That Counted

Cappell Roan - School Nights subtle flex i was a fan pre-trapfoamp

Childbirth - Since When Are You Gay

Daddy Issues - Veronica

The Degenerettes - Truck Drivin Girlfriend

Doria Roberts - Perfect

Gina Young - So-Called St8 Grrrl

Girli - Can I Say Baby

The Greeting Committee - She's A Gun

The Gretchens - I Met A Girl

Heavenly - P.U.N.K. Girl

Indigo Girls - Country Radio

Janis Ian - At Seventeen

Julien Baker - Rejoice

K.D. Lang - Constant Craving

Kehlani - Honey

Lady Lamb - Little Flaws

Lesbian Bed Death - Vampire Lover

Lipstick Homicide - Rockerchick

Lowell - Tell Me What You Want Me To Do

Lucy Dacus - Christine

MICHELLE - Oontz

Mitski - My Love Mine All Mine

Nova Twins - Athena

Oh Pep! - Tea Milk & Honey

Orla Gartland - Oh GOD

Raveena - Temptation

Rett Madison - Emily

Semler - Don't Tell Anyone

Shura - Religion (u can lay your hands on me)

Sofya Wang - Found Love

Syd - Fast Car

Tracy Chapman - Give Me One Reason

Tribe 8 - Butch In The Streets

Two Nice Girls - The Queer Song

Vetta Borne - Girls

Zolita - Holy

[s-aint-elmo]

*twirling my hair* do you have some good yuri manga recs?

(lying on my stomach and kicking my feet) i'm SO glad you asked!

to preface this i'll be excluding better-known yuri or yuri that's recently gotten its flowers (whether thru virality or adaptations) (e.g. in love with the villainess, love bullet, bloom into you, etc. etc.) and will instead be recc'ing works i don't often encounter in the wild. some will be more well-known than others, but all of these i've enjoyed and would encourage others to check out! under the cut because. this got. so long. i heart yuri <3

multi-chapter

the princess of sylph (ongoing; self-publishing): plot-heavy fantasy yuri between a bereaved princess with the aura of a thousand sad hamsters and a persistent nun whose silliness conceals a deep well of trauma. gushed about it plenty here. i recommend starting with the serialized version, the proceeding to the twitter version + extras. cw: blood, violence, dismemberment (nothing too graphic, more standard monster-fighting fare).

i love amy (completed): school loner strikes an unlikely friendship with the girl known (and feared) for her violent tendencies and single-minded obsession with the school prince. cute but striking and skilled art with a surprisingly nuanced handling of trauma and neurodivergence. cw: attempted child murder, animal death (non-graphic). there are also depictions of standard yandere fare (kidnapping, torture basements) but they're always presented comedically.

i see you, aizawa-san! (ongoing): girl who steadfastly pretends not to see ghosts meets one she just can't seem to ignore: a deceased classmate and former j-pop idol, who has taken to haunting their classroom. ft. art that harkens back to classic shoujo and a supernatural mystery centred on the relationship between the two leads--that one of them can't seem to remember. cw: blood, body horror.

school zone girls (on hiatus): slice of life yuri comedy ft. a massive interconnected web of girls spanning at least three schools. it juggles gut-busting comedy with genuine heartfelt moments of character growth and connection and expresses it all through a solid, dynamic art style. the sprawling cast also makes for incredible outsider pov moments that lets us really appreciate how far some characters have gotten. this genuinely motivated me to revamp how i approached ensemble casts for my ocs.

brides of iberis (completed): wedding planner unenthusiastic about her engagement falls in love with a bride she's taken as a client. bittersweet but deeply loving; and so compassionate to each and every character, even the men the female leads have relationships with. cw: infidelity.

destroy it all and love me in hell! (ongoing): model student finds her miserable, tightly controlled life unraveling after being blackmailed by the class truant into indulging her ugliest impulses. toxic yuri extravaganza eleganza between two girls desperate for escape and the catharsis of fucking! shit! up!!! also hits that sweet sweet "love triangle as a conflict of ideals" beat. cw: blackmail, coercion, bullying, violence, emotional abuse, physical abuse, verbal abuse, adult/minor relationship.

yuri is forbidden for the yuri otaku (completed): passionate himejoshi enrolls in an all-girls private school to observe class s yuri in action, but never to engage in it herself--at least, until a misunderstanding wins her the resident gyaru's heart. a surprisingly poignant exploration of being queer in a repressive society and experiencing your queerness through the safety of unobtainable fantasy.

the superstar idol crushes on me today too (ongoing): failed idol-slash-middling radio personality finds an unwanted superfan in the country's biggest superstar. explores the merit of pursuing your artistic passions in the face of repeated failure, and what makes an emotional anchor in the fraught seas of showbiz. they are also just so so funny. what if i emphatically declare you my rival in show business but you've been in love with me since you saw me in a cooking show as a child actor and you take any excuse to spend time with me and have my attention with blinding enthusiasm

normality and monsters (ongoing): outcast weirdo witnesses the class idol devour their homeroom teacher in one bite and begs to be trained in the art of appearing normal. the art is snappy and charismatic, the monster design is properly grotesque, and the friendship of convenience between the two leads teeters between overcoming the monster's nature and just being a prelude to the monster acquiring a new meatsuit. cw: blood, gore, death, body horror.

a monster wants to eat me (ongoing): suicidal girl meets carnivore mermaid who promises to eat her if she develops a desire to live. it's been a while since i read this one, but the monster designs are once again sick as fuck and the drama of being cared for by a creature that finds you tantalizing is sooo juicy. cw: suicidal ideation, blood, gore, violence, body horror.

liar satsuki can see death (completed): high schooler who can see corpses before the death occurs strives to save as many lives as possible despite being branded a liar by the entire student body. this and ryouko's other manga, a walk to death, are pretty banging declarations on the value of living ironically (or maybe aptly) wrapped in so much death. blanket cw for blood, gore and death bc i tell you every mini-arc somebody dies in a fun new way and we'd be here all day if we listed them out.

anthology:

i'm the villainess but i'm being captured by the heroine?!: an anthology featuring heroines of otome games swerving hard and sweeping the villainess off her feet. i am such a sucker for villainess yuri. mean women forever. my favourite chapters are vol. 1 ch.1 and vol. 2 chs. 1 and 4.

honourable mentions:

my idol sits the next desk over! (completed): loner idol otaku ends up deskmates with her oshi and between jealous sabotage from a rival stan and the herculean task of acting normal around your fave, lands herself in the first and closest friend group of her life. one girl does explicitly have romantic feelings for another girl, but i bumped it down here because it isn't explored to the extent it could have been. it felt like it was setting up a slow burn only to end abruptly. do not recommend if you want a love story, do recommend if you want lonely people forging deep and enduring bonds of friendship.

the one within the villainess (ongoing): the villainess of an otome game reawakens for her condemnation and sets off on a path of vengeance for the sake of the beloved transmigrator who's occupied her body for years. it's ostensibly het, but to hear the way that the villainess speaks of her transmigrator, the first person to love her wholeheartedly and wish for her happiness and so inadvertently prevent her from becoming the hollow bitter woman she originally grew into...... like. that is yuri. like what if i knew your life in its entirety and loved you for it and i found myself in the position to give you the happiness i always wished for you to have. what if we wrote fix-it fic for each other on the fabric of the universe. what if we never even had a conversation but we knew each other the best and loved each other most. and we were both girls. do you understand why i'm insane about them. cw: blood, gore, violence.