#randomly got inspiration for this. been sitting in my brain for A While now... like A WHILE

[alchemistc]

He'd had a dream about this, once. Sweat still cooling, sheets tangled at his feet, a view of Eddie Diaz's bedroom ceiling.

Sue him - Tommy's not the first guy who ever had a raunchy dream about a straight friend. For a few weeks there, both Diaz and Evan Buckley had featured heavily in his rotation. And then Evan had tried to murder his best friend and Tommy had kissed him about it and now...

Tommy shifts his weight. Slides his hand across the sheets - Evan's sheets, still familiar even if the location has changed. Christ, why had Eddie never scraped the popcorn off his ceiling? It's an easy job, really, even if it is painfully boring and time consuming, he could -

The hand that curls around his neck, just under his jaw, is light, careful, still possibly covered in Tommy's cum.

"I missed you," Evan says, and Tommy feels the panic bubbling under his skin, a miasma of humming thrumming reminders that this had been a bad idea from the start. That "randomly" running into his ex three shots deep at the bar had been one of his shittier plans, fueled by his own tipsy jealousy at seeing Evan's drinking partner grinning at him for a good hour while Tommy got progressively worse at pool.

He opens his mouth to let Evan down. He can't do this There's no world where this changes anything. For Christ's sake, he'd only done it because the possessive monster inside of him had heard Evan introduce him to Ravi Panikkar as 'my... Tommy' and the rest of his brain had left the fucking building.

"Everything is so screwed, Tommy. Eddie, and Maddie, and - I just. I want to work on this. I want - I know I didn't say it right before, but everything went to shit that day and if we could just..."

He's always done this. Fucked Tommy to the brink of brainlessness and then proceeded to talk a mile a minute like the sex they'd had was inspirational and energizing. Tommy'd been endeared by it from the start. He still is.

He fucking hates that.

"I can - we can go slow. You set the pace, Tommy, I promise."

"Buck," he starts, and everything in Evan shuts down all at once.

He's done a poor job of keeping that line drawn in his own head - all these months later and he still thinks too much about him, still thinks of him as Evan, and it's a shitty thing to do when they're both fully aware that it's something of a treat for both of them - that name that's been mostly Tommy's since the day Buck found himself at the academy with three Evan's and grinned his way through a nicknaming process.

Evan's hand unfurls from its spot, fingers slipping from where they'd been working at his earlobe. He's gone from soft and pliant glued to Tommy's side, to stiff as he rolls away, sheets travelling with him, and Tommy doesn't fight it when they shift free of him, leaving him bare as the day he was born.

At least he's got his trusty fucking walls. Those at least will keep Evan from glancing up and seeing him break his own heart in two twice over.

Evan rolls to a sit, heaves his legs over the bed. In the soft light Tommy can map out the constellation of moles on his curved back as he drops his head into his hands.

The silence is deafening.

"I, uh ... I think you should go?"

Tommy's certain he doesn't mean for it to sound like a question. He's also certain Evan Buckley has never once in his life been anything but a novice at hiding emotion in his face, body language, voice.

He's pretty sure they could do this a hundred times and Evan might just let him.

Tommy doesn't speak as he gathers his clothes. Doesn't speak as he steals furtive glances around the hem of his T-shirt, doesn't speak as he realizes he didn't even make time for cleanup so he's definitely driving home with the evidence of this night still fucking on him.

Evan's still cradling his head in his hands when Tommy shoves his foot into a boot, not bothering with laces because maybe he'll just fucking trip on the curb and fall into oncoming traffic. It might be the better option.

"I'm -."

"Don't," Evan says, just loud enough for Tommy to know he's barking around a phlegmy throat. "This is worse, just so you know. It was already bad, Tommy..."

Tommy expects there to be more, but there isn't anything. Evan's shoulders heave, and Tommy grabs his keys and phone off the side table, and he blinks and he's somehow out the door, eyes stinging and blood rushing in his ears and he honestly shouldn't be driving but he's not gonna leave his fucking truck here.

He's not entirely sure how he makes it home. He comes back to himself with scalding hot water washing away the evidence of his fuck-up, throat sore and jaw tight and his phone blowing up on the bathroom countertop.

He shouldn't feel the vindication he does that at least this time he milked enough emotion out of Evan to make him send fourteen - his phone buzzes again - fifteen texts in a row.

He feels it anyway, and just to dig the knife deeper into his own chest he shuts his phone off for the night the moment he's towelled himself dry.

Tomorrow. He'll figure it out tomorrow.

He's been telling himself that for five months - a year - his whole fucking life. Maybe one day he'll be telling the truth.

[canirove]

Roman Holiday | Chapter 1

Summary: Ella, a jornalist based in Rome who dreams about writing something more meaningful than just gossip, is about to see how the shields she's built aroung her heart to protect it from breaking are about to be knocked down by Declan, a very attractive young man she randomly meets one night. A young man who happens to be Prince Declan (or Joseph as he is officially known), who is on an official visit to the city, and that has escaped the palace where he is staying to experience the normal life he's always dreamt of.

Author’s note: It has taken me a while, but this story is finally being published! 💃🏼 I've had the idea to write my own version of "Roman Holiday" for a while, and at first it was with someone else instead of Declan. But then this season he got the prince hair, and I said, now it is the time to do it 😁 The first chapters are inspired by the movie and kind of similar, but then it is just me and my brain. I hope you like it, and as always, thank you for reading! 💜

Next chapter

Masterlist

“Please be careful with those shirts, they are real silk. And you, put all the watches and jewellery in the safe with the usual code. I will check it later to change it, and I better not find anything missing.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“I love coming to Rome” Martha says after finishing ordering everyone around. ”Look at those views. They are beautiful, aren't they, sir?”

“I guess” Declan replies. “If only I had the chance to actually enjoy them like everyone else…”

“Sir, we've talked about this already. You are on an official visit, there is no time for sightseeing.”

“I know” he sighs.

“But maybe you can come back next time you are on holidays” she suggests.

“I don't have holidays, Martha. Every time I go somewhere to relax and disconnect, my trip always ends up being another official visit to wherever I am because someone has spotted me and they take advantage of it. I hate being a prince.” 

“Don't say that, sir. Being a prince is an honour!”

“If you say so…”

“It is” she insists. “Now, should we go through today's schedule?”

“What?” he says, turning to look at his assistant. “We literally just arrived. I haven't even had time to sit down or go to the bathroom!”

“I know, sir. But this is how things work.”

“This… ugh” Declan groans, looking one last time out the window and at the city he would not get to enjoy. Again.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“It feels weird to have royals visiting Italy, doesn't it?” Gio says while flicking through the latest copy of the magazine where we both work, me as a journalist and her as a photographer.

“What? Why?”

“Because we've never been a country known for it. England, Spain, France… They all have or have had their royal families, but us? We are more into emperors and things like that.”

“Italy has had important royals throughout history. Look at Catherine de Medici.”

“Yeah, but it isn't the same” she says. “Nevertheless, I'm glad we've gotten the hot royal to visit us and not one of those old men.”

“The hot royal?” I chuckle.

“Ella, don't you read the magazine that pays your bills? We've been publishing articles about his visit for weeks, and you actually are gonna be a correspondent at one of the events he is throwing during this trip!”

“I'm not interested in what we publish, you already know it. And yes, I'm attending one of the events that are being thrown in his honour.”

“Then you must have done your research and seen how hot Prince Joseph is! Like, his smile? If he smiled at me like that, I don't know what I would do. No, I know what I would do. Whatever he asked me to” she smirks.

“He’s ok, and so is his smile. Maybe if he wore less hair gel… He's gonna end up bald.”

“Ella!” Gio gasps. “You seriously need to have your eyes checked, he is gorgeous!”

“What I need is to find my phone's charger or I will be late to today's meeting. That's what I need.”

“Maybe you left it at your latest lover's house. What was his name?”

“Matteo. And no, I didn't… shit.”

“You left the charger at his place, didn't you?” she laughs. 

“Yes” I sigh. “I left my phone charging while we were having dinner and then…”

“And then you completely forgot about it when you left his place this morning because you were too busy trying to sneak out without saying goodbye after a wild night of sex.”

“It wasn't wild, but yes.”

“Ella, you seriously need to stop doing that with all the guys you hook up with.”

“Leaving my phone's charger at their houses? Agree. I can't keep wasting money on them when my bank account looks the way it does these days.”

“I meant running away because you are scared of falling in love!” Gio says. 

“I'm not scared” I snort.

“Yes, you are, Ella. You are scared of opening your heart to someone because you fear you may end up like your mum.” 

“I'm not” I insist. “What I am afraid of tho, is the boss if I'm late for this meeting” I say after checking my watch. “You are so lucky you are skipping it…”

“Lucky? I'm photographing a random influencer who is definitely going to complain about everything and tell me I'm doing my job wrong.”

“Yeah… maybe the meeting is better than that” I chuckle. “Anyway, will I see you at tonight's party?”

“Yes, you will” she says. “But I'm right about you being scared.”

“You are not. See you tonight” I say, kissing her cheek before grabbing my bag and running towards the office where today's meeting is happening. 

And she is wrong.

If I don't want to fall in love with any of the guys I meet, or think about starting a relationship, it isn't because that's what my mum did plenty of times to always end up with her heart broken. She would get too excited after meeting someone, already see herself starting a life with them, and boom! Reality would hit her and she would find herself with a baby and the man of her dreams leaving them and moving to a different country. 

I mean, sometimes I do fear it may run in the family since something similar happened to my grandmother when she got pregnant with my mother, and to me with my first love (minus the baby part, of course). But that's not it. 

If I don't want to think too much about men beyond a hook up here and there, it's because right now I want to focus on my career as a journalist. 

After many shitty jobs and bad decisions back home in London, I chose to move to Rome and give my dad's hometown a go. He’s ignored me my whole life, but that doesn't mean the city has to be that bad too. So far, it has actually treated me really well.

I found a really good job at a gossip magazine not long after my arrival, and even though right now I may be writing about high society and their frivolous lives (like the one of that prince that is visiting the city), I can see myself growing and getting to write stories that matter in one of the other magazines that belong to the same group this one does. Stories that you read and that you don't forget about five minutes later. Stories that make you think and that move something inside you.

Since living in Rome I've met a few people who started writing about banal things like I'm doing right now and then they moved into more serious stuff because they caught the eye of an editor, so why can't that happen to me too?

Though if destiny wants that to happen, it better do it sooner rather than later, because my bank account isn't looking at its best.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Thank God that is over” Declan says, taking off his jacket and struggling to do the same with his tie.

“It wasn't that bad, sir” Martha says, picking his clothes as he throws them all over the room.

“It was a trap.”

“What?” she chuckles.

“You only invited girls!”

“We didn't…”

“C'mon, Martha. I'm not stupid” he says, getting rid of his shoes. “You only invited girls to this dinner hoping I would like one of them and marry her, and that's not going to happen.”

“Sir…”

“No!” Declan says, raising his voice. “I will marry when I'm ready and with the person I choose, not when and with whom you all tell me to!”

“But sir, your father…”

“I know about my father, Martha! I don't need to have you constantly reminding me of it!”

“Sir… Joseph… You need to calm down.”

“My name is Declan, not Joseph! Joseph is my father!” he yells. 

Technically, both Joseph and Declan were his names. Legally he was called Declan Joseph. Declan after the Irish doctor who had brought him into the world and saved his life and his mother's after an extremely long and difficult labour, and Joseph after his father. 

Officially everyone called him Prince Joseph, but in private, he was Declan to everyone. Some said that it was to not get him confused with his father, though to others, it was something his parents had started to do to annoy his grandparents since they had never liked that he had been given that name. 

But if you asked him, he thought Declan was a name that fitted him perfectly and not just because of his looks (his friends always joked about the name being perfect for him because he looked very Irish due to his blue eyes and extremely fair skin). To him, it fitted him because Joseph was his father (the first King Joseph in their country's history), and Declan had enough already with all the pressure people always put on him due to being the heir to the throne. Those already were really big shoes to fit, and he didn't need the extra pressure of the name.

“And I am calm!” he says before hitting a chair. 

“I'm going to ask the kitchen to make you some tea.”

“I don't want a fucking tea! I want… Urgh!” he says, now kicking the chair that was on the floor as Martha leaves the room. 

Declan knew how lucky he was and he was very grateful for the life he had. For all the commodities and opportunities being a prince had given him. But since he had been a little kid, he had always wanted to be normal. To be like the other children in the palace. 

He wanted to be able to play football with them instead of cricket, which he found extremely boring. He wanted to be able to sneak out to have a cheeky bear in the stables instead of staying inside to learn about different wines and which one to have with each dish. He wanted to go out to a club, meet a girl, kiss her, spend the night with her and then not see her again instead of having to attend tea parties with the same girls over and over again because they also happened to be heirs to other royal families and the best choice when thinking about marriage. 

He wanted to experience the life most young men his age had. He wanted to be… normal. Like the people outside his window.

There was some kind of party going on at a bar’s rooftop, live music being played. And he could hear them laughing, singing, drinking…

“You don't know how lucky you are” Declan whispers while watching a couple dance and kiss. 

“Sir, your tea” Martha says behind him.

“Thank you. You can leave it there” he says, still focused on the couple. The man is saying something in the woman's ear, making her laugh. Which makes Declan realise that he can't remember when was the last time he made a girl laugh like that. 

Most girls he was introduced to usually forced themselves to do it around him, trying to look charming but also flirty. Though what they usually looked like, was fake.

“They aren't like you, Jos… Declan.”

“What?” 

“Those people” Martha says next to him, nodding towards the party. “We all may be human beings and if you cut us we all bleed the same, but they aren't like you. You could dress like them, do the same things they do… But there will always be something that will set you apart from them.”

“And I am supposed to be glad about that?”

“What you need, is to understand it” she says, offering him the cup of tea.

“Yeah” he says before taking a sip. “Why does this taste different?”

“Oh, I don't know. Maybe they didn't put in enough milk. I'll stop by the kitchen and ask them” Martha says. “Now drink it and go to bed, ok?”

“Ok” Declan nods. 

“Goodnight, sir.”

“Goodnight, Martha” he replies, looking back at the party once she has left the room. The couple from earlier is gone, but there are more people arriving. Like a group of girls laughing very loudly. “Urgh, this is disgusting” he says after taking another sip of his tea. Martha seriously needed to have that chat with the kitchen. 

“What I need, is to understand it” Declan whispers, repeating her words from earlier. 

What did she mean with that? How could he understand how it was to be normal? 

“You could dress like them, do the same things they do…”

“I could…” he says, looking from the party to his room, an idea forming in his mind. “I actually could.”

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Gio, I think I'm leaving.”

“Why?” she says.

“I'm tired and I haven't seen anyone interesting.”

Which is a lie. 

There is a really interesting guy I haven't been able to stop looking at since he walked in the party, his smile being hypnotic. But two girls quickly spotted him, and he's been with them since then, too busy to look or notice anyone else. 

“It isn't midnight yet, Ella.”

“I know, but…” I shrug. 

“Why don't you stay for like… five more minutes? Maybe the man of your dreams hasn't arrived yet.”

“The man of my dreams doesn't exist” I say, giving the guy with the beautiful smile a sneaky look. “Anyway, don't stay up until too late, ok?”

“Yes, mum” Gio says, rolling her eyes. 

“Love you” I smile, giving her a quick hug.

“Love you too” she smiles back before I leave the party. Though not without searching for that guy I haven't been able to stop looking at the whole night one last time... And not finding him anywhere. He, or the girls. “See how the man of my dreams doesn't exist?” I sigh.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“You've been telling me that you are five minutes away for the past fifteen minutes, you stupid twat” I say to my phone's screen before canceling my Uber ride and starting to walk towards the closest bus stop. Maybe there will be a taxi waiting there, they sometimes do that. And if there isn't one, at least I'll get to sit down for a bit while I wait for one. I'm not buying cheap shoes ever again.

“You've got to be kidding me” I say when I make it to the bus stop and see a guy laying on its bench, definitely drunk since he is struggling to sit up. A guy that�� wait. It can't be. He can't…

“Hi” the drunk guy says when he finally manages to sit up, looking at me with a big smile. That smile, the one I haven't been able to stop thinking about the whole night.

“Hi” I reply. 

“Do you want to sit down?”

“I… Umm…” I mumble. “Ok.”

“I love Rome” he says, still smiling. “So much history, such amazing food, such beautiful women” he winks. Or tries to since he has closed both eyes, his eyelashes being so long that they cast a shadow on his cheeks.

“Thank you” I say, looking away. But because I don't want him catching me staring at him? At his perfect side profile? No. I mean, yes, I was staring, and I don't want him to notice. But I'm looking away because I'm going shy. Why? I don't know. I've never been like that around men. Ever. 

“Where are you going?” he asks.

“Uh?”

“If you are here, it's because you are waiting for a bus and going somewhere, aren't you?”

“Oh, yes, yes. I'm going home” I say. “You?”

“I don't know. I don't want to go home. I was at a party with some girls and it was really fun, but I started to feel weird and very sleepy and I left. I think they put something on my drink.”

“The girls?”

“Or my assistant. That tea she gave me…”

“You have an assistant?”

“Yeah” he shrugs as if it was the most normal thing ever. And the thing is, that now that I properly look at him and not just at his smile and how handsome he is… He looks posh. His shirt looks expensive even though it is covered in wrinkles, he is wearing suit pants instead of jeans like most young men do, and his shoes… He's wearing Gucci loafers. What was a guy like him doing at a party like that? And why… Why does he kind of look familiar? “What's your name?” 

“What?” I say.

“Your name. You have one, don't you?” he chuckles.

“I… yes. I'm Ella.”

“Ella?” he asks, opening his eyes and giving me a confused look.

“From Gabriella. But everyone calls me Ella” I explain.

“Oh… Ella” he says, doing the famous Italian hand gesture.

“Exactly” I say, finding myself smiling.

“I like it” he smiles back.

“Thank you.”

“Though you don't sound Italian.”

“What?”

“Your accent. You sound English. Are you English?”

“Half. My father is Italian, but I was born and raised in London.”

“Then you must know cousin Will!”

“Who?”

“My cousin Will! He lives in this big house with golden doors, it's hard to miss. Like his baldness” he laughs. “How did you end up here in Rome?”

“I needed a fresh start.”

“Let me guess… Bad break up?”

“Oh, no. It didn't have to do with men. I mean, not really. Here in Rome I probably keep making the same bad decisions with men I was making back home.”

“At least you can make your own decisions. Good or bad” he sighs.

“You can't?” I ask him. 

“It's complicated.”

“How?”

“You ask too many questions, Ella” he says, running a hand through his hair and making me feel something on my stomach. Am I hungry this late at night?

“Me? You are the one who started this conversation by asking me if I was going somewhere and what my name was.”

“I did, didn't I?” he chuckles. “Then now is your turn, ask away. But before you do it, let me tell you that yes, all this is natural” he says, gesturing to his face.

“What?” I laugh.

“For a while there was a rumour saying that I had done something to my face because I look very different from what I used to as a teenager, but I haven't. I just got a different haircut and grew a beard” he shrugs. 

“I guess they were jealous. You have really nice hair, you know? And your face is ok too, I guess.”

“Thank you” he smirks. 

“Ok, so, umm… my question” I say, looking away to stop my mind from thinking about that smile and what I was feeling on my stomach. Or maybe lower. “You still haven't told me your name.”

“I have not! Where are my manners?” he says. “My name is Declan, though you can call me Dec… or love of your life” he winks (this time managing to properly do it) before taking my hand on his and kissing it.

“Has that pickup line ever worked for you?” I laugh, trying to ignore the tingling sensation his lips have left on my skin.

“Always.”

“Always?” I laugh again. “What kind of women do you hang out with?”

“The ones I'm told to” he says, his eyes focused on our hands, on his thumb caressing my knuckles. 

Who is this guy? Why does he look so familiar? And why is he making me feel things if I just met him? Also, is he falling asleep while sitting up?

“Declan. Declan, hey. Declan!” I say, snapping the fingers of my free hand in front of his face.

“What? Umm… Where am I?” he says with a confused look.

“Ok, it's time to go to bed. Whatever you drank is affecting you again” I say standing up to see if I can spot a taxi. “Where are you staying? Because with that name you definitely aren't Italian. Though you don't have an Irish accent. Not that you need to be Irish to have an Irish name but… Declan!” I say, catching him before he hits his head with the bench. “Declan, are you ok?” 

“I'm so sleepy, Ella… So tired.” 

“I know you are. But you can't fall asleep here. If the police see you…”

“I'll be changing one jail from another” he shrugs, his eyes still closed.

“You… what?”

“I hate my life, Ella.”

“You… Oh, taxi!” I say when I see one coming our way. “Taxi!”

“Why are you yelling?” Declan says.

“C'mon, time to go home.”

“I don't want to go home, I already told you” he protests when I try to make him get up from the bench.

“But you can't stay here, Declan. C'mon.”

“Urgh” he complains, standing up and following me to the car. 

“Where to, ma'am?” the taxi driver says once I manage to get us both inside the car.

“Declan, where are you staying?”

“No.”

“Dec…” I sigh. “Let me help you. Please.”

“If you want to help me, don't take me back to the palace” he says, his eyes still closed while he looks for a comfortable position to fall asleep again.

“The palace as in the hotel? Is there one nearby?” I ask the driver.

“Umm… no” he says. “Only the palace is close by.”

“The palace?”

“Yeah, the one where that prince everyone is talking about is staying.”

“The…” I say, looking at Declan. Is that why he looks so familiar? Could he be… Nah. That's impossible. A prince would not attend a party like the one where we both were, and especially not without a bodyguard. Besides, the prince is called Joseph. Though Declan does sound very familiar, as if I've read it somewhere recently. Does the Prince have a middle name? Royals actually have many names, not just one or two. They…

“Ma'am, you need to make up your mind. Where are we going?”

“Yes, sorry” I say, giving Declan one last look before telling the driver my address and maybe making a huge mistake. The biggest mistake of my life. Because if for some crazy reason this guy actually is the prince, they could accuse me of kidnapping him after drugging him, and God knows which laws they have in a country so small as his and what they could do to me.

But no. No, no, no. Declan cannot be the prince. He is just a posh boy on holidays in Rome, and he looks familiar because he reminds me of someone else. 

Because I cannot be taking freaking Prince Joseph or whatever his name is home. I just can't… Can I?

[risingsunresistance]

devotion

[dragonsareourfuture]

Ways the Death Note Cast Show They Trust You

I lost some inspiration towards the middle there, I’m sorry!!

L

- he will always have Watari make extra servings of food just for you. It’s a bit startling at first. So suddenly there’s just food in front of you that you think is for L, but when you push it towards him, he pushes it right back to you.

“You don’t want it?” He’d ask, leaving you confused until you finally put the pieces together.

“Oh, I…I guess I didn’t realize it was for me. My bad.” You begin eating. “Thank you.”

L simply hums and continues with whatever he was just up to.

- You know that thing cats do where they’re sitting perfectly still, eyes closed, guard slightly down, but still not quite asleep? I can picture L doing something like this during any moment of downtime he gets. Just sitting, scrunched up in his chair or wherever he happens to be, eyes closed but the cogs in his brain are still turning. You notice him doing this when it is only you and him in the room, simply thinking it’s because of the moment of rare solitude. Little do you know, it’s because he trusts that you won’t hurt him or let anything bad happen to him.

- L is a person who prefers to be in charge of his own life. He likes knowing what’s going on around him at all times and when things are out of his hands he can’t help but feel uncomfortable. However, with a person he’s developed a close relationship with and knows he can trust with everything he has, L will feel more comfortable leaving decisions up to them. You’ll have to start small though, like being the one to plan a surprise date. He might feel a bit uncomfy at the beginning, shifting around and possibly even insisting he sit so that he can see the exits clearly, but he eases into it eventually. Soon you both find yourselves joking around in the odd way that you do and gorging on cake and ice cream.

Mello

- being vulnerable is something Mello isn’t too keen on. He already feels vulnerable most of the time and would kick himself if he let that show through his actions. If Mello truly trusts you, he will feel as though he can be vulnerable around you without any judgement on your end. Small acts that show vulnerability such as asking you to help him with something he can’t quite handle on his own — even if it’s something as simple as not being able to reach something off a shelf or being unsure about how to fix something. Eventually, he’ll work his way up to the bigger stuff like being physically wounded in front of you or having a mental block.

- Sharing his clothes with you or letting you pick his outfit for him. Now, it sounds like he’s just being a little diva and that’s only partially true. But his clothes are important to him, they’re a factor that sets him aside from his plain-dressing rival and in his eyes they make him more interesting than him, visually at least. He’s happy to dress you up, and it is true that he has to have a close relationship with you to want to do so, but you should be especially proud if he lets you alter his appearance in any way.

- He likes to believe that he’s had his goals set out from the beginning. Surpass Near, become the next L, and go on from there. What he pushes to the back of his brain are the moments he’s been studying and he’s asked himself ‘What if I went down a different path?’. He quickly pushes these thoughts away, but they keep coming back. What would life be like if this wasn’t an option for him? What if he were a writer? What if he lived in the city with people he loves and went to the movies every Friday? Unwillingly, he has a whole list of possibilities. If he truly trusts you, he’ll share every single one with you. Whether it’s dropping hints or confessing them one by one late at night, he can’t help but feel that they’re safe with you.

Misa

- it seems a bit surface level, but it’s true — Misa will talk down on Light in front of you if she trusts you. But it’s not straight away. She had developed a lot of courage to actually break up with him, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t still doubt her decision to do so. It’s only when she finds out from you how loved ones are supposed to treat each other — with kindness and respect — that she feels her decision to ditch Light was the entirely right one. Slowly, she’ll start to admit to you all the things she hated about Light, starting with some of his mannerisms and building up to something like how he forced her to leave the entertainment business.

- Misa is…dramatic. She likes to go above and beyond for someone she’s infatuated with and make sure they’re the happiest they can be. If she trusts you enough to develop this kind of infatuation and, with some development, less of an obsession and more of a strong, bonding love, you will be doted on to the point where it’s almost ridiculous. You could be at home during one of her work days and you’ll get a delivery of lunch from your favorite takeout place because Misa was ‘thinking of you <3’, as she explains when you text her asking why food randomly showed up at your place. It’s rather sweet.

- Misa’s a pretty talkative person in general, that’s a well known fact. She’ll talk about clothes, a cute birdie she saw on her way home, really anything that comes to mind. But, she’ll do that with about anyone who’ll listen. It’s gradual, so it’s hard to notice, but if Misa grows to trust you she’ll start talking about some of the more serious things that have been on her mind for a while, those things that she thought would scare off anyone she liked because of how personal they are to her. Her family before they died, for example. It’s something that Misa thinks about. So much. But she doesn’t really talk about it. She wants to forget, put the past behind her but because she’s never talked about it with anyone it’s hard to do that. She’ll talk about her family to you, the little things her sister used to do and some things her parents did that she misses.

Matsuda

- Matsuda often begins to idolize those who he thinks are trustworthy and have a good heart. He starts to tell you how much he loves when you do x and that he wishes he could perform as well as you in that area. In a sense, he trusts you with his vulnerability, letting you know that he thinks of himself as less than satisfactory and how he wishes he could do better, only he channels it by pointing out good things about you. If…that makes sense.

- This sounds dire, but he’ll risk his life for the people he completely, without a doubt trusts. He was willing to do so with Chief Yagami, someone he saw as a father figure, and he would certainly be willing to do so with you, someone who he feels he has a deep emotional connection to. Whether you’re in a situation where he would need to or he’s just saying that he would, he means it.

- Matsuda trusts you to not make fun of him when he overshares or talks too much or anything his coworkers brush him off for. He feels that he can talk about things he finds funny and talk about his life without worrying about what you think of him when he does.

Matt

- he would drop everything to help you. Whether that’s dropping his game to help you kill a bug or leaving his duties behind to help you out of a life or death situation. Whichever scenario you happen to find yourself in he’s there no matter what.

- He’ll invite you into his personal life. I know this is kind of a given but Matt had the chance to become the next L. He had the chance to become something “great” and he said “ummm rather not” to it because it wasn’t something he wanted. If he shares this information with you, he trusts you not to leave him for something better when you discover the status he could have had and refused. He trusts you to appreciate him because of him and not the intelligence everyone but him cherishes.

- He leaves you alone around important technology and software he’s hacked. Unfortunately for him, betrayal comes with the business he’s got himself into and, if Matt really trusts you on both a professional and emotional level, he won’t have a problem worrying about whether or not you’ll take advantage of his coffee break to gather information for some other organization or something. He will literally just go “mkay babe I gotta go fuel up on caffeine real quick, you’re good watching the hacked government database right? Cool cya.”

Near

- Near trusts you to take him to public places. Sounds simple, yeah. But Near has never liked crowds, or even just too many strangers in a wide open place. It’s strange to everyone observing how one day he decides he needs a new toy, his old one having broken due to old age, and asks you to take him to the toy store. He’s questioned, people wondering why he wouldn’t rather you just go alone but Near insists. Apparently the toy that broke is special addition and he wants to make sure you get the right one. He stays close to you the whole way, not really saying much, but he’s there and that’s a big step for him.

- He helps you out with puzzles. Basically cheats for you. When he’s eyeing one specific empty slot, coughing lightly to get your attention, just know that he’s not helping you because he thinks you need it. Quite the opposite actually. With anyone else, he believes that they should be able to solve it on their own. He thinks that if they can’t, then that’s their fault. But with you…it’s as if he trusts that you’re intelligent enough without the puzzle being an indicator of that intelligence, so much so that he thinks the puzzle itself is obsolete when it comes to you. He doesn’t need a puzzle to know how smart you are.

- He’ll eat the foods you make him. Near’s picky eater-ness is above that of a child who only eats chicken tenders and pizza. He doesn’t eat that many people’s food because he knows it’s probably not he way he likes it. But with you, he trusts that you respect his eating habits and know him well enough to get it right the first time. Though he does check the food out for a bit, he’ll eat it. Sometimes all of it. Fuckin astonishing to Rester who had attempted many times to heat up microwave dinners for the guy.

[novorehere]

Hey all! Just wanted to give everyone a bit of a content update.

I apologize for the lack of content for the past… year. I’ve been working through some stuff, and it’s been hard for me to find the motivation or inspiration to write. It comes in short bursts, meaning I’ve been (very) slowly chipping away at multiple projects at once. I just thought I’d update everyone on how things are going and make a list (partly for myself) of what I have in the works, what still needs to be done, and what you can expect from me in the future. Admittedly these are mostly obey me fics but I DO have other things tumbling about in my brain, I promise.

Opposite Day: 2/5 chapters finished, the rest 100% planned and around 30-40% written.

I’ve been sitting on an unfinished chapter 3 for almost a year now, and have written good portions of the other chapters in the meantime. This is the project I’m most excited to finish, and I feel bad for abandoning it for so long. Rest assured, I *am* still working on it, and am extremely happy it’s been so well received.

Untitled Simeon Comfort Fic: 75% finished.

Originally I wanted this written for his birthday (which was in February lmao) but as you can see that did not happen. I’ve got the beginning and end all written out, I sort of went off the script at the end with fun purgatory hall family fluff so the only thing I don’t have written is… actually the eating part. This will probably be the first fic I actually post, seeing as it’s the closest to completion.

“A series of Obey Me Vore Headcanons” Re-Write (Title Very WIP) 2.5/7 chapters re-written

This one I don’t think I’ve mentioned on here yet. I’ve grown increasingly unsatisfied with my original obey me headcanons list that I posted last year when I first got into the fandom. A. Because I hadn’t gotten very far into the story when I wrote it and didn’t get the full scope of the characters yet and B. (Most importantly) I feel like I really didn’t do the characters justice.

Since I originally posted it, there’s been a healthy amount of discussion on depth and nuance in vore media and reducing characters to tropes, etc. I’d like to re-write this series to focus less on physical aspects and “how they eat you” but rather more of an emotional and story driven story of why they eat you and their emotions and struggles that come with it. The obey me brothers are incredibly interesting characters, and I’d like to explore them in more depth and show you how interesting they can really be and why I love them so much.

This one might take a while to complete, but it’s gonna happen at some point. I‘ll keep up the original half-finished version in the meantime since I don’t want to delete it and ao3 doesn’t allow privating fics without orphaning them. I know it’s ugly in it’s current state, just know I’m working on it and the rest of those chapters will be overhauled eventually.

“Miss Em”: 80% written (kind of)

I’ve had this one sitting in my drafts for a while now. Originally I had plans to start another multi-chapter series but then Opposite Day sort of went to shit so I scrapped it knowing it was way too ambitious. But now I still have a mostly written Mammon fic in my notes app just sitting there and it would be a shame to just…leave it. I’m not sure what I’m gonna do with this one, Maybe I’ll write the Beel companion piece to it that I had planned and just leave it as a 2-parter. Who knows. It’s really cute, and I want to share it at some point.

Untitled Obey Me mini-drabbles: 60% written

Honestly this wasn’t supposed to be a whole thing. I started randomly writing one day on a burst of inspiration and it turned into little mini “scenario slices” for all the characters and I really like how it turned out. I still need to write for two of the characters and polish up some others, but it’s a fun low-stress thing to work on in between projects. Also excited to share it possibly soon since they’re fairly short and shouldn’t take long to finish (but you know me…)

An unspecified ITWOM fanfic: 0% written, 50% planned

For those who aren’t familiar, “In the World of Monsters” is an amazing novel authored by @vore-toast that just recently received a fantastic ending and epilogue (Please read it! It’s fantastic!) And I really would like to write a little something for it to show my appreciation. I have an idea planned out, but details would involve spoilers so I can’t say much. I’d need to ask for guidance on what exactly to include since the things I would like to write about haven’t exactly *happened yet* but I’ve said too much already… hee hee. I don’t know when this fic is gonna happen, but I swear to you it will. And if my original idea doesn’t work out, it’ll be something. I WILL be writing for this series, mark my words.

Heroes Off-Duty. 0% written, ??% planned

Huh? That’s weird... That one’s not supposed to be there. Ah well, It’s not relevant anyway. Carry on.

[the---hermit]

jumbo reading challenge update #3

This post has been sitting in my drafts for months. I have procrastinated posting this update for so long. I still have no plans for the rest of the challenge and I am trying to fit in the books I am reading randomly, so I have no idea if I will complete the challenge by the end of the year. I surely didn't expect to be 75% done with it in the first half of the year. Here are the links to my first and second updates on this challenge.

The Priory Of The Orange Tree by Samantha Shannon for the high fantasy prompt:

I don't know where I got the courage to approach a 800 page book, but I am surely happy I did. This is one of the best books I read this year. Challenging my fear of big books is teaching me how immersive they can be, and how special the reading experience becomes. This fantasy book in particular is very well made, I would even recommend it to people who don't read a lot of epic fantasy. I cannot wait for the sequel to be translated so that I can get it (I know I could get it anyway but I want matching editions).

Anansi Boys by Neil Gaiman for the main character of color prompt:

This was the last unread book in my Gaiman bookshelf (which means I have to look for the books my collection is still missing). For some reason I procrastinated reading this book for years. I am happy I finally picked it up, but it was definitely not my favourite novel by this author. I was expecting something along the lines of American Gods, which is not the case. It's an entertaining novel, but I prefer darker fantasy.

Daisy Darker by Alice Feeney for the horror or thriller prompt:

I listened to the audiobook for this novel, which was made pretty well. It's a story inspired by And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie, which is one of my all time favourite novels. I was a bit scheptical at first, but it wasn't as bad as I feared. After reading it I was a bit confused over my feeling for this novel, especially for the big twist at the end. It's now been a while and I can say that although the audiobook was very entertaining and well paced, I am not a big fan of the ending. I see what the author was trying to do, and I am prersonally not a fan. But it wasn't that bad.

Jurassic Park by Michael Crichton for the minimalistic cover prompt:

This book was surprisingly fun. While reading it I was a bit frustrated with a couple of things that felt very stupid, but to be honest after finishing it it made sense. It's one of those lighthearted adventurous books that needed a couple of silly things to work and it's fine. As I said it was really fun. I feel like it would be a great pick for a summer read, so much so that I am considering reading the sequel this summer.

Through The Woods by Emily Carroll for the clever cover prompt:

This was a rererad for me. I got this book last year and loved it, and since in the past month or so I have been in a big graphic novel rereading mood this felt perfect. I picked it for this prompt because the longer you look at the cover the more you notice some hidden detail. The art in this book is amazing, and it's overall one of my favourite graphic novels I own, it's the perfect gothic horror with fairytale vibes, I couldn't ask for more.

Gender Queer by Maia Kobabe for the non-binary author:

I am so happy to have this in my graphic novel collection. It's a very special addition, it was very insightful and emotional, and I know for a fact that I will be rereading this book more than once. I very much recommend picking this up. I felt like it did a great job at giving an idea of what it's like to question your sexuality and gender, how complicated and scary it can be, but also how joyful it is.

She Who Became The Sun by Shelley Parker Chan for the pun in the title prompt:

When I realized there was a pun in this book title my brain expoded. It's genious. The story of a girl who takes the identity of her brother to claim his destiny, becoming "the son", I loved it. I loved all characters. There's a light fantasy element that I hope will see more of in the sequel. Overall it's a very well done and engaging historical fantasy, and the gender in this is amazing. There's very interesting parallels, really strong characters that completment each other, it was a great read that I will be recommending a lot.

The House In The Cerulean Sea by T.J. Klune for the water in the title prompt:

This book has been often described as part of the cozy fantasy genre, and honestly it's a great way to describe it. I really enjoyed my time with this book, it was the perfect lighthearted read I needed.

The individual book reviews are linked in the titles above as usual.

[strifethedestroyer]

Painting Session

Such intimacy is a rare occurence, and few have the luck to ever encounter and embrace it, even for a short amount of time.

It doesn't need to be openly profound or formal in its ways, it doesn't need to be filled with extravagant vocabulary and over-the-top gestures for it to be a sacred and unbreakable bond between two individuals.

It can come in the simplest of ways, be delivered in the gentlest of acts. Such as a painting.

"You know, Ezio, I've been unsatisfied with my works lately," groaned Leonardo, fumbling with his chin while staring with squinted eyes towards his empty canvas that he wanted so desperately to fill with something colorful, heartfelt, and yet nothing came.

"And why is that?" answered the assassin, brushing dust off his armor.

"I don't quite know myself, there's just.. something missing to me. Sure, I can paint something, but what is the spirit behind my brush stroke, the motive behind my hand that drags the brush over the canvas? It is lacking. I paint now, the result is satisfactory to the oblivious onlooker, but to me it lacks depth. Emotion. Drive." he said, looking at his brushes and picking one up to toy with its hairs, then setting it back down to stare blankly again at the canvas.

Silence. Ezio was looking for the right words to say to comfort or inspire his friend, and he thought he was at a loss until a brilliant idea struck him.

"Why don't you paint me?"

"Hm?" responded Leonardo, turning around to face his life-long friend. He was too lost in his thoughts and needed Ezio to repeat.

"Why don't you try painting me? Whatever the result, there's sure to be emotion behind it. I'm your best friend, after all."

"That's actually.." Leonardo paused, squinting once more at the bare canvas to envision what he was going to be creating, "not a bad idea! Come, come, sit down!"

Leonardo quickly organized his various brushes and shook his jar of water, checking if it was still full meanwhile Ezio straightened the wrinkles in his attire and pulled up a stool to sit on.

And with that Leonardo began to paint.

The windows were open, fresh air and sunlight streaming in as the birds in the trees and skies sang happily in the name of the tender afternoon.

Leonardo began to hum a tune contentedly, realizing he was making a few mistakes in his painting but not obsessing over them as this was a time during the day to aknowledge one's errors yet not belittle oneself over them lest they fall while doing so instead of learning from them and moving on.

An hour, two hours..

"I'm done."

"You're done?"

"You can move now."

Ezio was ecstatic to finally get off the stool and stretch and straighten his back. As peaceful as it was to sit there listening to the world outside while your friend illustrated your likeness for pure enjoyment, it took a toll on your body and mind, as Ezio was not one renoun for being able to sit still in one place for long.

He quickly strolled to where Leonardo sat to see how the painting looked.

"I made a few mistakes," began Leonardo before Ezio could even say a word, "like here, in the face. And here, the nose is a bit too small.. The eyes are a little too far apart. I don't know if it's any good, looking back on it."

"I don't understand art and its intricasies like you do, Leo. I just know how to appreciate it, at least on a surface level. And whatever anyone thinks of this, whatever you think of it, Leo, despite its errors in your eyes, I think it's beautiful. And is that not enough?"

The painter smiled, "I suppose you're right. I suppose it is enough."

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

Aaaand I'm back with another, the fifth. This one is my first Ezioleo!! I just randomly got this idea and thought it was too good to just let it rot in my brain. So here.

[dippindaz]

Request by anonymous~

“Oneshot or short story with Mark Hoffman and a shy/timid fem reader who he has feelings for, and he gets a chance to be alone with her? Maybe nsfw or hints of it.”

I gotta say anon, LOVE the idea and I too am a Mark Hoffman simp. Hopefully I delivered this well! Also, I might’ve gone too far off the original idea and I apologize, I might write a second more “normal” one. If the requester asks me too I definitely will. Or if you’re happy with it as is Anon, I can do a part 2 with full NSFW, just ask away :)

Disclaimer: (spoiler) I am not trying to romanticize being in one of Jigsaw’s games, simply got inspired and tbh had this idea in my head for a while.

Warnings: Anxiety, stalking, reader being a victim in a game, gore, blood, descriptions of pain, NSFW hinted, hella lies, and a nice drizzle of manipulation.

Unedited

He’d been watching you. Ever since he became an apprentice of Jigsaw he had learned the tricks. It was only a couple months of him being an apprentice that he saw you in the station.

You tried to make yourself small. You were quiet and avoided eye contact. He noticed the way you picked at your nails and the surrounding skin. You chewing on your lips.

Sitting there, you felt eyes burning into your back. Perhaps he stared at you too long. You turned your head accidentally meeting with his eyes. Quickly you turned your head around.

‘Oh god, I made eye contact. What if he comes over here? What if he thinks I’m weird for looking at him?’ Thought after thought tearing its way to the front of your brain. Thankfully, they were interrupted by the officer returning to the desk.

From that day on you would randomly get the feeling of being watched. It wasn’t 24/7 but that’s what made it worse. It made your concerns of someone actually being there feel too real. You’d always close your blinds and curtains. Lock all your windows and doors.

That couldn’t save you tonight.

You had fallen asleep for the night, but soon jumped awake. You couldn’t remember what happened to wake you. Sitting up you rubbed your eyes. Once they adjusted to the dark you scanned your room. Something must’ve fallen.

But you froze. Your eyes landed on a large figure in the corner of your room. You knew it was just a shadow. Nobody was in your home. They just weren’t. They couldn’t be.

Breathing in your swing your legs off the edge of your bed. Shakily, you walked to that corner of your room.

You opened your mouth to scream but before any sound could come out the figure lunged forwards and stabbed something into your neck.

You felt light and airy, yet vaguely uncomfortable. In the back of your mind there was something wrong, you knew it. However, this feeling of wonderful uninterrupted sleep took all priority. Just slightly you peaked one eye open.

That’s when reality came crashing down. Your eyes shot open and you tried to pull your arms closer to your body. A mixture of screaming and rapid breaths made you light headed, until you just couldn’t scream anymore.

You began to calm yourself and looked at your pained hands, nails driven through them into a wooden cross. Your feet nailed through each other and the wood. Your head hurt but you couldn’t see what was on it. All you knew was blood dripped from it.

Your head hung as you tried to slow your breathing. The room was painfully silent, no sounds of creaking or cracking. Just your breathing.

As time passed your hands and feet became more and more sore. Tears stained your cheeks and your mouth hung open.

You didn’t know long it was now, you just knew you were lightheaded and tired. You felt like you’d been hit by a hundred bricks. You were feeling drained. Of energy and of hope.

But footsteps outside the door made your eyes widen and head shoot up. “HELP! HELP ME, PLEASE!” You yelled as loud as your sore throat would allow. Years began to prick your eyes again.

The door swung open and a tan man stood there. His brows furrowed as he stared at you. “Please, help me down, please.” You whispered and cried.

“I’m gonna get you down, but I need you to relax alright?” You nodded your head sniffling. The man began looking around the room and inspected your trap, while you tried to slow your breathing.

“What’s your name?” He asked while messing with some mechanism attached to the back of the cross.

“Um, I’m- it’s, (Y/N).” You paused. “Who are, are you?”

“Detective Mark Hoffman. Do you know who the “Jigsaw Killer” is?” He asked, still standing behind you.

“N-no, not reall- AHHH” You began to answer his question but he pulled something on the back of the cross that seemed to make the nails drive farther into your hands and feet.

A tape began to play in the corner of the room. “Welcome to your next test Detective Hoffman.” Your screams didn’t stop as the nails continued their way deeper. But more pain started, nails began driving through the first layers of skin around your head.

“You will have 60 seconds to stop the nails from,” The tape continued but with the pain in your hands, feet, and beginnings of pain on your head you couldn’t hear it. You couldn’t pay attention to the sounds.

You cried in pain as time ticked away. It felt like an eternity, but in reality it was 45 seconds before Mark got you out of the trap. You didn’t even know how but you didn’t care. You’re hands and feet had been completely nailed through, your head screamed in pain.

When he got your restraints off you fell into him. He carried you bridal style out of some warehouse, where the police were already waiting. As you were slid into an ambulance you made eye contact with Mark, just before slipping into darkness.

3 weeks later you were standing outside a door working up the courage to knock. A container of No Bake Cookies held in one hand. They were a thank you of sorts. He saved your life after all, it only felt right to you that you do something in return. Even if it was just some cookies.

You softly knocked on his office door. Just as you were about to walk away out of embarrassment the door opened and greeted you with a semi-familiar face.

“Come in.” Moving to the side Mark gestured for you to enter his office.

You gave an awkward smile and looked around the room. There wasn’t much to look at other than the bookshelf, but it was better than meeting his stare.

“What can I do for you?” He asked, moving around his desk to sit in his chair.

“Um, I made some, uh, cookies.” You held the box towards him. “For, for you.”

He stared at you for a moment and you nervously broke eye contact. Instead you stared down at the desk.

Grabbing the container he said, “Thank you, what kind?”

“Oh, well, they’re No Bake Cookies.” As you finished your sentence you finally reconnected with his eyes. “They’ve always been my favorite.”

“Thanks.” He set the container to the side and looked back at you. You stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to do or say.

Of course, in this already awkward situation you couldn’t help but realize just how attractive this man was. He just radiated daddy vibes. This of course, didn’t help with your quest of trying to avoid eye contact.

“(Y/N),” It was only then that you noticed just how deep his voice was. There was something so attractive about it. “You alright?”

“Hm? Oh, um, y-yeah, I’m fine.” You met his eyes and this time couldn’t look away. He was so intense, it felt like he could see right through you. “So, I guess, I’ll just um,” you slowly back up to the door.

“Come here.” He ordered, eyes still burning into you.

“I, uh... ok,” All other words seemed to slip your mind and you found yourself awkwardly walking close to his chair.

You felt strange, a few weeks before you had been trapped in a game with this man and now you were alone in a small office. Listening to his every order. It made you excited, yet nervous.

When was the last time you had even kissed somebody? Did that matter? Maybe he wasn’t attracted to you at all. Oh how wrong you were if you believed that.

Mark had an undeniable attraction to you, ever since he saw you at the station. He waited for the perfect moment to make that known to you and this was it.

✨Thank you for reading!💝

[helloalycia]

The Wrong Lifetime – Eight // Wanda Maximoff

chapter seven | story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad | chapter nine

author’s note: Y/C/N = your cousin’s name, also this is later than I wanted today but i’ve been super busy so sorry for that! Also, I’ll be responding to comments from the last one as soon as I’m free. Enjoy 😊

"...okay, so now use the water to dilute the colour."

I did as Wanda said, dipping my brush in the glass of water and diluting the watercolour I was using, but I must have used too much because it made the paint run and then the paper started to get too damp to hold together.

Wanda facepalmed, sighing as I smiled sheepishly.

"My bad...?"

She glared playfully before ripping a page from her sketchbook. "Try again, milaya (darling). And use less water this time."

I squinted in the sun as I glanced at her. "Can't you just accept I'm not very good at painting? Or art in general?"

She shook her head, taking the torn page from my grasp and replacing it with a new one. "No way. You're not getting out of it that easily. It's not hard, I promise!"

I groaned lightheartedly. "You said that about drawing. And about using acrylics. And about using chalk."

"And I'm saying it about this, now c'mon, try again," she encouraged with an amused smile before returning to her own painting.

We were sat in my garden, hanging out and making the most of the lovely day we were having. The Spring breeze was getting warmer as we transitioned into Summer and it was a nice change of pace from the usual bad weather we had. So nice that Wanda wanted to do some painting and also teach me how to. But art was never my strong suit and I'm sure she knew that but still proceeded to try anyway.

Sketching out the tree before us for the third time today, I attempted to provide an outline that I could eventually fill in with green watercolours. Unlike Wanda though, it wasn't fun. My eyes veered over to her and I smiled to myself as I admired the look of concentration on her face – her 'art' look, I dubbed it. It was this very specific expression she got whenever she worked on a painting or drawing, and it always reminded me of that first time I saw it, after we met in the stationary store and when she took me back to her room. Absolutely wonderful.

"I don't hear a pencil moving," she said, not looking up but beginning to smile.

"That's because I'm looking for... what did you call it?" I racked my brain, thinking back to the day in the store when she talked about inspiration. "Vdokhoventi?"

A sharp exhale escaped her lips as she finally lifted her gaze to meet mine. Attempting not to laugh, she tilted her head adorably. "Vdokhnoveniye."

I quirked a brow. "Is that not what I said?"

She giggled, shaking her head. "Definitely not."

I grinned, shrugging. "Well, that's what I meant."

She rolled her eyes playfully. "I'm not it, so eyes on your page."

"Oh, how dearly mistaken you are, love," I said quietly, leaning close and giving her a knowing smile.

She looked up, expression softening with a smile. Her eyes were heavenly, pupils dilated as she squinted in the sun, and they flickered to my lips before she settled on nudging me in the shoulder slightly. I snickered, leaning my head on her shoulder since everybody thought we were as close as best friends, so it wouldn't look suspicious. She sighed contently, letting me watch as she moved her paintbrush, painting a flower that was peeking through the grass we were sat on.

I could have stayed there forever, in that moment, sitting with Wanda and watching her paint under the sun. But of course, all good things come to an end when you don't want them to.

"Y/N, dear," I heard my father call, and when I looked up, I saw him approaching Wanda and I from the direction of our house.

Straightening up, I watched as he attempted to sit on the grass, but his legs were too long and he struggled to cross them. With a hearty chuckle, he stretched them out, slightly bent, and leaned on his hands.

"I'm getting too old for this, ladies," he said humorously, making Wanda and I smile.

"What d'you need, dad?" I asked, raising my brows.

"I just wanted to check in and see if you were ready for tonight," he said casually, making me furrow my brows. He seemed to notice my confusion, prompting, "Tonight? Your cousin's birthday party?"

"My cousin's what-now?"

He sighed, massaging the point between his brows. "Y/C/N? They organised this months ago. We're all expected to be there." His glanced to Wanda. "You, too, dear."

Wanda hummed, pulling her gaze from her painting and looking to my dad. "Yes, I'm aware. Got my dress ready and everything."

My eyes snapped to Wanda's with surprise. "You knew about this?!"

"You should be more like her," my dad muttered, as Wanda smiled with a hint of mischief in her eyes.

I looked back to my father. "I was planning on helping Y/B/N with his manuscript tonight."

My dad waved his hand. "I've already talked to him. He's agreed to work on it before the party starts so you're both on time."

I groaned, already tired at the sound of yet another party. Did it ever end?

"Don't be late," he ordered, though his voice was anything but stern. Cue another groan. He smiled before looking to Wanda's painting. "Wow, that's great, dear. Apparently you've got Y/N here attempting to do the same?"

Wanda chuckled as she handed him my several failed attempts. "Key word being 'attempting'."

He accepted the pages and stifled a smile of amusement. "Wow... maybe you should stick to writing, Y/N."

I ripped the pages from his grasp. "Cheers, dad, really."

He laughed before leaning forward and kissing my forehead. "It's all in good faith, dear. Now remember. Don't be late tonight, okay?"

I sighed, which he took as my response, before pushing himself off the grass with a grumble. Dusting his trousers, he nodded to Wanda and I before leaving us be.

"You could've told me I had yet another party to attend tonight," I told Wanda with narrowed eyes.

She shrugged, smiling helplessly. "I thought you knew."

I laid back on the grass with a dramatic sigh. "I just don't understand why our life revolves around extravagant parties, balls and dinners."

"That's just how it is, moya lyubov' (my love)," she said with a warm smile.

I looked up at the sky, raising my hand to shield the sun from my eyes, though my heart fluttered at one of the many nicknames she called me in Russian. "I'd rather live in the middle of nowhere. Where nobody expects anything of me and there's no stupid parties to attend."

She rested a hand on my leg before laying beside me, leaning her head on my shoulder. I relaxed my head on hers, appreciating how well we fit together.

"Same here," she agreed, making me gasp playfully.

"What? Don't you love the glitz and glamour?"

She laughed quietly. "I do, but I like the peace and quiet more."

I breathed out, fingertips brushing hers. "Maybe I can be a little late tonight... accidentally run over time so I don't have to stay as long."

Her fingers tugged on mine between us as a warning. "No. I'll be left alone and I'll be bored. And when I'm bored, I drink."

It was my turn to laugh. "You won't be alone, Wanda. You'll have Pietro."

She shifted so she was no longer leaning on my shoulder but instead tilting her head to look my way. "I want you."

I turned my head and gave her a small, promising smile. "I'll try to be on time."

She quirked a brow. "Try? You will."

My eyes flittered away, ready to argue otherwise, but she sat up and grabbed her paintbrush. I sat up, too, ready to tell her I would try, but I flinched when she flicked water towards me from the tip of it.

"Are you serious?" I asked, wiping the water from my eyelids with tongue-in-cheek.

She chuckled and I grabbed my paintbrush and did the same, watching her squirm when it flicked on her face.

Suppressed smile on her face, she wiped away the water and glared with dazzling eyes. "You shouldn't start what you can't finish, milaya (darling)."

Smiling from ear to ear, I quirked a brow devilishly. "Oh?"

"You're so lucky we're in front of people," she said lowly, leaning close enough to be platonic, but her hand slipped under my dress and creeped up my leg, making me involuntarily shiver. "Or you would be in serious trouble."

I stopped her hand from going any higher, the rings on her fingers cold enough for me to not melt under her touch. "I highly doubt that, love."

She held my gaze, intoxicating and mesmerising all at once. A sly smile tugged at her lips as she said, "Don't test me then. You heard your father. Don't be late."

I exhaled, licking my lips. "Fine. I won't be."

—

Later that afternoon, I found myself sat in my brother's study as the two of us worked on his latest manuscript together. It was a love story, his (my) specialty, and I was helping him to sort out his sentence structure when he decided to question me.

"Will you entertain me for a moment?" he asked randomly, making me look up from the pages.

"I'll probably regret it, but go on," I said jokingly, before looking back down and adding some notes to the paper.

His chair creaked as he leaned back, eyes watching me thoughtfully. "Are you in a secret relationship?"

I almost choked on my spit as he asked this, heart dropping to my stomach with panic. He couldn't know about Wanda, right? We'd been so careful.

Thankfully, I played it off well as I merely glanced his way before distracting myself with note-taking.

"Why would you think that, Y/B/N?" I asked like he was insane.

He shrugged in my peripheral. "I don't know... I've been wondering for a while. You've just loosened up so much more. And you're not as uptight as you usually are."

"Cheers," I said sarcastically.

He leaned forward, head resting in his palm. "This all happened right about the time I met Wanda..."

I swallowed hard, quirking a brow at him to play down my panic.

"I saw you with Pietro the other week," he continued, and I could finally breathe when I realised what he was insinuating. "I'm happy if you're happy, Y/N, but I'm not a fan of you sleeping with my publisher."

At that thought, I shuddered and proceeded to shove Y/B/N on the arm. "Don't say that. And I would never."

Just your fiancé, I thought guiltily.

"Good," he said with relief, straightening up. "Because you're not supposed to do that until you get married."

I rolled my eyes dismissively in response, but wondered if that still applied in a world where one was not allowed to marry the person they loved.

Y/B/N gave me a reassuring glance. "Look, I'm okay with it, I guess. But I'd appreciate the heads up so I can give him a stern talking to."

Realising there was a hint of mirth in his voice, I looked up and gave him a warning look. "Don't you dare."

He laughed, patting me on the back, to which I shrugged off with annoyance.

"It's the Maximoff charm," he commented knowingly. "The twins have that effect on people, don't they? Wanda sure has it on me."

A short silence fell after he said that and I chewed on my lip curiously, unable to stop myself from speaking until it was too late.

"Is her love reciprocated?"

He looked down to me from his daydream, no doubt of Wanda. "Pardon?"

Knowing there was no backing down from the conversation now, I avoided his eyes. "The engagement between you both was arranged... you're clearly in love with her, but is it returned?"

His lips twitched into a frown. "I'd hope so."

I hummed, diverting my attention away from him and to the pen in my hand.

"Why? Did she say something?" he asked, voice laden with worry.

"Of course not," I reassured him.

"But you'd tell me if she did?" he asked eagerly.

I looked his way and saw him peering down at me, hanging onto my response. I nodded lamely, which seemed to put him at ease as he sank into his chair with relief.

We spent the next few hours working on the manuscript without a hitch, but I noticed the time and realised the party was already in full swing. Wanda's words came to mind and I hoped she wouldn't be too annoyed at my lateness.

"We're wrapping it up now, don't worry," Y/B/N said, noticing me check the clock. "Thanks for the help. I'm gonna get this to my editor tomorrow. Your amendments should help make the process go a lot smoothly."

I hummed in response, feeling a heaviness settle on my shoulders as he mentioned his editor. It was always the same routine – I helped him with his manuscript, he got it edited, got his book published and got all the credit. And I was stuck in the same position, wishing I could do the same.

"What is it?" he asked with a sigh, sensing my mood.

Playing with the corner of the manuscript, I met his gaze. "I help you with your writing, but I never get anything from it."

"You get to help me," he pointed out, not seeing the issue. "Isn't that enough?"

Pietro's offer came to mind as I said, "What if I wrote my own book? And got published with my name on the cover?"

He squinted as he studied me, trying to find the humour in my words. Letting out a laugh, he shook his head.

"Y/N, that's absurd."

I raised my eyebrows hopefully. "I mean, is it? Would that be so bad?"

He pressed his lips together and breathed out through his nose. Resting a hand on my shoulder, he gave me a condescending look.

"I'm saying this because I care," he said, making me feel like crap. "But yes."

As if I didn't already know the answer, I asked, "Why?"

He motioned with his hand like it was obvious. "Because. People would look at you differently. You'd be undesirable. You know men don't like smart women. I'm just looking out for you as your brother."

I looked away, the bitterness at his words stinging more than usual. "Well, I like smart women."

Thinking I was joking, he chuckled. "Don't go saying things like that. One might misinterpret."

My teeth pressed into my lower lip hard, trying to contain my frustration.

"You can do this every now and then," he said, referring to the manuscript, "but any more isn't possible. Besides, two authors in one family? That's insane."

I forced a smile, but I wondered if his last comment was the real reason he wouldn't let me at least try to get published.

"Anyway, never mind that," he said indifferently. "We should probably head out. Dad is not going to be pleased. Especially since I promised we wouldn't be late."

I nodded, sliding my chair out and wanting to be anywhere but here right now. "Yeah, come on."

He gave me a sneaky smile. "Can't wait to see Pietro?"

I slapped him on the arm before standing up, ignoring his laughter. Nothing to make an already-depressing night worse than going to a party you didn't care for.

—

Wanda Maximoff was a very difficult drunk to be around, I'd learnt that the hard way.

As soon as Y/B/N and I rolled up to my cousin's house, a third of the guests were drunk and the rest were tipsy. A typical Y/L/N get-together. Y/B/N was instantly dragged away by some family whilst I was quick to make myself scarce, attempting to find Wanda. But the place was bustling with people and there were way too many rooms to check.

I found Pietro before I found his twin, as he was poking around party favours on a table in the corner, attempting to make out what were in the bags.

I found Pietro before I found his twin, as he was poking around party favours on a table in the corner, attempting to make out what were in the bags.

"If you're expecting a brand new fountain pen, you won't find it in there," I teased, making him jump.

He sighed when he looked my way, realising it was me. "I know that. But there's nothing better here to do, so I may as well know what freebies we'll be getting by the end of it."

I smirked. "Anything good?"

He shrugged, seeming disappointed. "Just some chocolate and perfume samples."

Holding back a smile, I said, "How tragic."

"If you're looking for my sister, she's over there," he said, nodding behind me. "You'll love this one."

"What do you mean?" I asked, brows knitted with confusion, before turning around and following his gaze.

Wanda was indeed stood on the other side of the dining room and I could just about make her out between idle guests. She was chatting to some woman, hands moving erratically and with expression, a grin on her lips.

"What is she doing?" I asked unsurely, tearing my eyes from her and looking to Pietro.

He was withholding laughter as he answered, "Sometimes, dear Y/N, my beloved twin sister gets drunk when she's–"

"Bored," I finished, remembering what she told me this morning. My face dropped as I mumbled, "Uh-oh."

"Uh-oh indeed," Pietro said, grinning at his sister's dismay. "Drunk Wanda is a very truthful Wanda. So, any secrets of hers will most definitely be revealed tonight."

Pietro was too caught up in his own amusement to notice my eyes widening.

"One of our servants made me a platter a few years ago," Pietro explained, oblivious to my panic. "It was a delicious cheese platter, the cheese having been imported from France. Then, Wanda proceeded to eat it without telling me. When I asked if she did, she lied. And I only discovered she lied because she got drunk a few weeks later and bragged about how good the cheese was."

Continuing to ramble, though this time in Russian, Pietro complained about said incident, though I wasn't listening as I watched Wanda talk to the woman enthusiastically. I could only imagine what secrets she was sharing.

"Pietro!" I cut him off, earning his attention. "Shouldn't you do something? To stop Wanda?"

The cheese platter story long forgotten, his grin reappeared on his lips. "Nah, it's funny watching her make a fool of herself."

I gave him a look of disbelief before looking back to Wanda, who was laughing at something by herself. The woman she was speaking to seemed partially confused, but smiled to be polite. I gulped, before shaking my head.

"I'm not that mean," I said to Pietro before making a move to stop her.

Pietro booed me playfully, but I ignored him and approached the drunk brunette, managing to catch her conversation.

"–and they're usually such catty bitch–"

"Wanda!" I immediately cut her off, bumping into her side slightly to get her attention. "There you are!"

Green eyes widened with excitement as they met mine. "Y/N! You're here!"

Ignoring her, I wrapped an arm around her shoulder and tugged her close before looking to the guest she was talking with.

"My apologies for her behaviour," I said with an awkward smile, hoping Wanda hadn't revealed anything suspicious.

"No need to apologise, dear," the woman said with an amused smile. "Wanda here was telling me all about how lovely of a sister-in-law you are. Or will be."

Wanda grinned, looking to me and leaning in so close that her nose brushed my cheek. "Yeah, she is," she continued to the woman, though her eyes were on mine. "She's sweet, not like other people make out their sister-in-laws to be."

My face was warm as I cleared my throat and smiled once more to the woman. "If you'll excuse Wanda and I."

The woman barely got out a nod before I dragged Wanda away, trying to keep her lips away from my neck (she was also an extremely clingy drunk). Tugging her into the bathroom down the hall, I closed the door behind us and released a breath of relief, grateful for the escape from guests.

"You look very sexy when you're worried," Wanda complimented, stepping forward and smiling dazedly.

"Wanda–"

She placed her hand on my jaw, moving closer so that her lips were grazing mine as she mumbled, "You came late, milaya (darling). But I still love you."

I'd like to say that I had the willpower to push her away and scold her for acting so obvious about us before, but my lips went numb as she captured them between hers. I could taste the alcohol on her lips as she moved them against mine, making me dizzy and forgetting what I was going to say. Her thumb caressed my jaw and I relaxed under her touch, hands resting on her chest. When she tried to part my lips with her tongue, I seemed to come to my senses.

"Wanda, you're drunk," I muttered, pushing her back gently.

She chased down my mouth again, sucking on my lip and tilting my head back so she could have better access. I tried not to let her win as I kissed her briefly before pulling away. Clouded hazel eyes met mine with a matching smirk.

"You're such a tease," she whispered, her accent thicker than usual and making my stomach flip uncontrollably. Her thumb traced my lips as she continued, "You shouldn't do that when I already know how you taste, moya lyubov' (my love)."

The way she was staring at me made me flustered in place, and she seemed to notice her effect on me as she winked my way.

Shaking my head and trying not to let her win, I said, "Look, Wanda. I'm sorry for being late. But did you really have to get drunk?"

She shrugged, leaning her weight on my shoulder with her hand. "If you hadn't kept me waiting, then I wouldn't have."

I sighed, looking to her apologetically. "I didn't realise the time."

A permanent troublesome smile was fixed on her lips as she watched me.

"Your brother told me how you can be when you get drunk," I said with mild concern, hoping she'd register my seriousness. "You need to be careful, Wanda. We can't have people finding out about us."

"It seems to me," she began agonisingly slowly, lacing her arms around my shoulders, "that you'll have to watch me all night to make sure I don't do anything out of line."

Determined not to play into her teasing, I maintained her gaze with a stern stare. "It seems I'll have to."

She bit her lip, eyes flickering between mine, before leaning further into my ear. In a whispered voice, she said, "That means you can't leave my side, printsessa (princess)."

I clenched my jaw, ready to agree, but a gasp escaped my lips as hers sucked on my earlobe, teeth nibbling on the sensitive skin. Stupid Wanda and her stupid flirting and stupid attractiveness.

"Wanda!" I scolded, though my cheeks were flushed as I pushed her away gently.

She laughed adorably, the sound making my heart skip a beat. "What?"

"You have to behave," I told her, swallowing hard and trying not to let her teasing smile get to me. "You can't do this out there. Okay?"

"Okay," she agreed in a way that wasn't reassuring in the slightest.

I rolled my eyes before grabbing her hand and leading her back outside the bathroom, returning to the party. I wasn't planning on leaving her side for the rest of the evening, even if Y/B/N wanted to be with her. The last thing I wanted was for her cute drunken self to reveal something she couldn't take back.

To my relief, she kind of behaved after that. There were times when she would get a little too touchy to be platonic, but a quick stare set her straight. Y/B/N wasn't around much, as when he did join us, he was immediately pulled away by some family friends who wanted to discuss his books. For once, I was glad he was an author, afraid of what would happen if Wanda got too comfortable in his presence.

At one point though, he was able to join Wanda, Pietro and I at a standing table, relief flooding his expression when nobody called after him. His arm wrapped around Wanda's waist and he kissed the top of her head, making me look the other way with distaste. She scrunched her nose up at the action before distracting herself with a drink. I gave her a knowing look, having told her earlier to stop with the alcohol. She pretended not to see me.

"Sorry I've not been able to spend time with you tonight," he said to Wanda, oblivious to her tipsy state.

"It's almost like it's your birthday and not your cousin's," Pietro joked, smiling at him.

My brother chuckled. "I guess. They just all wanna talk about my manuscript."

"Ah, yes, the reason you were late, right?" Wanda asked, eyes falling to mine.

"I'm sorry," my brother apologised, assuming it was him she was speaking to.

"You were helping him, too, right?" Pietro asked, looking to me curiously. "Maybe I'll finally get a glance at your work."

I narrowed my eyes at him, having figured he'd put the subject to rest after last time. He merely grinned in response, finding joy in messing with me, just like his sister. Before I could say anything, my brother beat me to it.

"Don't be getting any ideas. It's just a hobby." He smiled forcefully, before glancing at me. "Isn't it, Y/N?"

"Don't be getting any ideas. It's just a hobby." He smiled forcefully, before glancing at me. "Isn't it, Y/N?"

So he was jealous. Wow.

"You don't need to hide your relationship, y'know," he continued when I didn't respond, looking to Pietro.

The silver-haired publisher choked on his drink as he looked to my brother, clearly very amused.

"I know you're together," Y/B/N said with agitation. "Everybody does. And don't get me wrong, Pietro, I respect you as a publisher."

I groaned quietly, closing my eyes with embarrassment. When I opened them, Pietro was watching my brother with an entertained smile, meanwhile, Wanda was looking between them with a twitching frown.

"But if you're going to date my sister, you should do it the right way," my brother continued stupidly. "It's not appropriate to have whatever this is." He motioned between us with his hands. "It's wrong."

I jumped when Wanda's hand slipped to my arse, squeezing it gently. Thankfully, our backs were to a wall so nobody would have noticed behind us, but I instantly glared at her and removed her hand. She gave me a cunning smile, not bothered by the consequences.

"...and if you're sleeping together like I suspect," Y/B/N was saying, making me flush with humiliation, "know that our friendship is at breaking point. I can't have that blatant disrespect in my life."

Wanda continued to attempt to grab my arse, making me slap her hand away several times, all whilst trying to manage whatever conversation was happening right now.

"I can't believe you just said that," I finally spoke up, managing to keep Wanda at bay long enough. "You're such an idiot, Y/B/N! I told you I wasn't with Pietro!"

Pietro tried not to laugh as he met my brother's intimidating stare. "I value our friendship, too, Y/B/N. Which is why I can promise you I have no... relations... with your sister. I don't like her like that, I can assure you."

Wanda snorted with amusement, before hiding behind a glass of wine when everyone looked her way.

Y/B/N seemed embarrassed as he cleared his throat. "Oh."

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, oh!"

"I guess I should apologise," he said awkwardly, looking to Pietro. "I–"

"No apology necessary," Pietro cut him off, raising a hand. "I am thankful for the entertainment however."

"I'm gonna go literally anywhere else," I dismissed myself, unable to take the uncomfortable situation any longer.

Without waiting for a response, I turned on my heel and walked away. To my surprise, Wanda trailed after, falling into step with me.

I glanced at her unhappily, quirking a brow. "Can I help you?"

"Oh, don't be mad at me because your brother's an idiot," she said with a wag of her hand.

I gave her a suggestive look. "I told you to behave."

She pressed her lips together in a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry... Y/B/N was talking about you and Pietro and I– well, I don't like sharing, remember?"

The improper glint in her eye as she stopped before me, watching with amusement, made me feel warm all of a sudden. That day when she first told me that and we proceeded to make love flashed to mind, and she seemed to know as she had a mischievous look on her face.

Clearing my throat, I pointed a finger her way. "Behave."

I should have known by the devilish look in her eyes that she wouldn't.

[kuroos-moon]

Getting Possessive

➪ pairings: bokuto x reader, kuroo x reader, oikawa x reader

➪ request: a scenario where Bokuto, Kuroo n Tooru (or anyone else) get,,possessive bc their s/o was partnered up w another guy for a project

➪ genre: fluff 

Bokuto Kōtarō 

“Now for your biggest project this year, which I mentioned was going to be by partner since it’ll probably take a while to complete, I’ll be announcing your pair today.”

Bokuto excitedly looks at you with an infectious grin, something about how your teacher said ‘announcing your pair,’ made it feel romantic, so it has to be you and him. You love getting partnered up with Bo since he’s so inspired and motivated when he works with you.

“Y/n, should we start it this weekend at my place?” He whispers not-so-discreetly to you which earns the two of you a disapproving glance from your teacher. “Sure, it’s going to be fun,” you grin back at him, showing him a thumbs-up which only makes him more excited. 

“What snacks should I prepare?” That was the last straw for your ever so patient sensei. The both of you were supposed to be partners even when he picked randomly, but what good would that do? He thinks you two are probably going to goof around, using the project as an excuse to meet up. 

“Next, l/n y/n, and uh,” he glances around to whoever wasn’t called yet and unfortunately it lands on the pretty boy behind you, “uh Takumi Usui,” he finishes, Bokuto rising up his chair at an instant. There was a lot of his pleading before he got scolded, your teacher never gave in and now he’s miserable.

“Hey, Kō I’m bummed you’re not my partner too but your partner has much greater brains than me! It should be fine,” you pat at his back while he slouches from beside you on his chair and plants his face on your lap. He only whines in misery in response and you can’t help but chuckle as you run your fingers through his hair. 

“Could you even breathe down there?” You’re lowkey embarrassed to be in that position with him in the middle of the classroom. 

Feeling a light tap on your shoulder, you look behind you to see your partner smile at you. “Uh, hey, it’s cool we got to be partners y/n-chan, when should we meet up?” 

Okay first of all, Y/N-CHAN?? He automatically turns to observe your face, his cheek now against your thighs. “Well, I’m free this weekend,” you smile back at him. 

He should’ve been the one who’s going to meet you that weekend. “Can I come along?” He sits up and smiles at the both of you, you’re horrified and lowkey embarrassed while your partner’s surprised. 

You face him and offer him a small smile, “Kō, you have your own partner to work with,” you gently tell him, touching his knee. He doesn’t respond but instead his hair droops along with his mood.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” you smile at Usui and Bokuto just short-circuits and panics as he watches you divert your attention to your partner once more. “It’s alright, so this weekend at my place, maybe?”

Bokuto grits his teeth, looking at the both of you in disbelief. “She’s mine! She’s mine, okay?” He blurts out, yanking your chair closest to him as possible and possessively wrapping his arms around your shoulders. 

You, along with the rest of the class stare up at him and he’s fidgeting a little once he sees you bury your face in your hands, “I mean she’s not an object I could claim mine, but- uh- she’s your partner academically! While I- I am her pair in a romantic kind of way!” 

You sigh before you untangle yourself from his arms, and he looks at you sorrily, afraid he’s made you mad but you offer your hand to him instead. After second-glancing you, he puts his big hand in yours and lets you guide him out of the room and in the quiet hallway. 

“What was that about Kō?” You look up at him expectantly, crossing your arms against your chest. He doesn’t meet your eyes and looks down to his fingers instead, “are you mad at me?” 

When you don’t respond, he continues, “sensei said he was announcing our pair, and it sounds so romantic and soulmate-like, I can’t believe I’m not your pair y/n, I’m not your soulmate,” his tone just gets sadder and sadder and you can’t help but chuckle, wrapping your arms around his waist and bringing him to a shock. 

“Don’t be silly Kō, just like you said, no matter what, I’m yours,” you look up at him and he pouts, and it might just be your imagination but you think you saw his bottom lip quiver. 

“Really?” He draws up his hand to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. 

“Really.” 

Kuroo Tetsurō 

“Oya oya?” Like a pest he pops up out of nowhere while you sit side by side with your partner in the library; and you glare daggers at your boyfriend before he grins at the two of you. “Are you even doing that right?” 

“None of your business, Tetsurō,” you swat away his hand from your shoulder, “get lost.” He only pouts at you before pulling up a chair, moving yours aside and sitting between the two of you. “Uh, excuse me, we have a project to finish.” Your partner sighs. 

He knew Kuroo was displeased when your teacher announced you were partners because maybe he sat a little bit too close to you in class, but Kuroo constantly showing up unannounced was getting on his nerves. 

“Excuse you, I’m not letting you drag down chibi-chan’s grades down the gutter along with yours,” he smirks at him, his cockiness short-lived as he’s met with your elbow to his ribs. “Get. Lost. Now,” you stare him down, his brows raising at you. 

“You obviously need help, I mean, doesn’t your back hurt from carrying your entire project?” He jokes but he’s only met with your disapproving eyes, “okay, okay, backing off now, tell me if you need help.” 

He unwillingly gets up from his chair, feigning a genuine smile your way as he drags his chair out of the way so you could sit closer to your partner. “Sorry about that dork,” you sigh. “Must be a pain, huh?” 

The moment your eyes are off him, his smile falls, instantly replaced by a menacing sharp glare sending chills down your partner’s spine. “I’m one call away, kitten, I could sub in for your partner anytime,” he reminds you again, standing behind the both of you. 

“My partner’s completely fine Tetsurō, you’re not needed,” you mindlessly say, scribbling something on your paper before glancing back at your partner to ask him something. He scoffs in disbelief; how could you be so cruel to him? 

Deciding it was best to just leave his girlfriend who apparently doesn’t need him alone, he kicks the back of your partner’s chair before making his way to the door with a frown. Kenma wasn’t even listening to his rants, but from the gist of it he could tell his best friend was being possessive while you’re simply clueless. 

“Y’know, I think your boyfriend’s acting kinda possessive.”

“No, he’s probably just bored or something so he bugs me and all that,” you shrug. Honey, that’s definitely not it. 

By the time his volleyball practice ends, he races to the library. Oh, look at that little prick sitting so unnecessarily close to you, he exhales a breath in annoyance, hands in his hips as he observes you two from outside. Kai had advised him to not bother you, so he’ll just wait out. 

He couldn’t just stand still though when you shiver and rub your hands together so now he’s come in the library again, making his way to the two of you. “Oh, great, he’s here again,” your partner huffs and you look up at Kuroo, wondering why he’s got a frown on his face. 

“Shut up, you really don’t wanna try me right now,” he grits his teeth, silently putting on his jacket over your frame. “You don’t have to finish it all up in one go, kitten, I could take you home to rest now,” he mutters, putting his hands on your shoulders and massaging them. 

“We’re almost finished, we’re wrapping it up,” you smile up at him and he sighs. “Fine.” You’re stunned when he slams his palm on the table, his arm between the both of you. “But some distance, maybe?” He turns to face your partner who immediately moves his chair a foot away. 

“Oh, and could you pass me that book over there,” Kuroo nods to your partner’s book.

“What for?” He scoffs.

“I’m obviously not going to hit you with it if that’s what you’re worried about,” he muses before grabbing the book himself. “Tetsu, what are you even doing?” 

He looks at you with a playful smile before leaning in and tilting his head to the side, your lips a mere inch apart, “I’m motivating you to finish.” He locks lips with you. Your partner was stiff, but he couldn’t see at all as Kuroo blocks your pressed lips with the very book he had snatched. 

“I’ll wait outside, I’ve only come in to kiss my girl, oh, and here’s your book,” he tosses it to him, eyes directly on his as he wipes the corner of his lips just to make his point before walking out, sending a wink your way. 

“Yup, he’s definitely possessive,” you watch him as he walks out. 

 Oikawa Tōru

The moment your teacher announces your partner was someone else who gave him the very foreign feeling of being possessive and wanting to prove you’re his, it seemed like the world was ending. 

“Hey, Iwa-chan, do you still see our sensei over there?” He whispers, and Iwaizumi looks at him like he’s gone insane. “What?” 

“Because all I see is the devil, how dare he,” he bites the inside of his cheek, eyes darting to the back of your head while you discuss something with your insanely attractive partner who he admits is generously half as pretty as him. “Are you still on about how y/n should be your partner?” Iwaizumi rolls his eyes.

“It’s only common sense, they don’t look great together at all.”

“This is not some matchmaking crap shittykawa, this is a school project.” The bell finally rings, class was officially over for the day. 

“You just don’t understand Iwa-chan,” he clicks his tongue before slinging his bag to his shoulder and making his way over to you. 

“Y/n-chan!” You’re flustered when you feel a hand on your stomach as you’re pulled to Tōru’s chest. “Who’s this?” He smiles at your partner who stood across the two of you. “What do you mean ‘who’s this,’ he’s our classmate, he’s my partner too.”

Okay, something along the lines of ‘my partner’ had his eye twitching. He listens in to your conversation as you make plans about when you should meet, his chin resting above your head the whole time while he hugs you from behind. 

You know Tōru’s not really one for caring who sees him displaying affection so his behavior now would pass up as normal but you get the feeling he’s purposely trying to show off right now. 

“So we could start today then, at my place?” You partner asks, but before you could respond, Tōru beats you to it. “Absolutely not, Usui-kun,” he scowls as if Usui had said something so controversial. You also notice how he had unconsciously held you to him tighter. 

“Someone’s a possessive boyfriend,” your partner grins. 

“Me?” He scoffs, “I know I’m crazy for y/n and it shows, but I’m not that crazy.” 

“Fine, then we’re going to my house.”

“The answer remains no, you’re not worthy enough to bring my y/n-chan inside your house.” You’re awkwardly just standing there, feeling more suffocated as Oikawa holds you closer to him the more their argument drags on.

“What are you, her dad?” Usui scoffs, but is now caught off guard upon meeting Oikawa’s cold eyes and taunting smirk. 

“You’d be surprised as to what y/n calls me inside the walls of my bedroom,” he says it like it’s no big deal, and you break free from his hold, about to slap his chest but Iwaizumi smacks his head before you could lay a hand on him. 

“Ow! Iwa-chan, my brain hurts!” 

“I doubt you even have one shittykawa! Don’t go blurting out stuff like that,” he scolds. 

“Thanks Iwa,” you genuinely smile at him before glaring at Oikawa. “Uh, so where then?” Your partner interrupts. “We could go to my place, my mom wouldn’t mind, might as well go now while it’s still early,” you walk towards him, Oikawa’s jaw dropping at how you so quickly left his side. 

“Hey, wait a minute y/n-chan, I don’t approve of this,” he whines, yanking your wrist. “You really don’t have a say in this Tōru, we have a project to work on, byebye,” you hastily kiss his cheek before leaving with your partner. 

He was hot on his heels about to follow you out but he’s yanked by the collar and dragged to practice by the impatient Iwaizumi. “Hey Usui-kun, my mom wouldn’t like you!” He shouts, struggling to not get his arm ripped off as he tries to resist Iwaizumi dragging him to the opposite direction of the both of you. 

“We don’t have the same mom, Tōru!” 

The instant practice ends, he has made it to his way inside your home, bearing chocolates and flowers for your mother. “Tōru, why are you here? And what’s all this?” Your mom asks him and he only chuckles while scratching the back of his neck, “I just haven’t dropped by in a while, where’s y/n though?”

Please not your bedroom.

“She’s in her bedroom with Usu-

“What? You can’t be on first-name basis with him already! Uh- I mean, I’m sorry, can I go up to her room?” 

Your mother knowingly smiles as Oikawa dashes up the stairs. Looking at the chocolates he brought, it was as if he wanted to bribe your mom into liking him more. It was just like when you first brought him home. 

“WHY IS THE DOOR EVEN CLOSED?” You yelp in shock when the door swings open, revealing a screaming Tōru fresh from his practice. “Geez, relax, it was windy.” You sigh, getting up from the floor to give him a hug but he has marched his way past you. 

“Then at least close your window, not the door,” he grumbles as he shuts your windows so the wind couldn’t get in. He turns to look at the both of you wearing the same expression of ‘what the hell are you even doing here.’ 

“You.” He points down at Usui who was still sat on the floor, “what are you still doing here? Get up, I’m kicking you out.” 

“Tōru I am this close to kicking you out, we have a project to finish,” you hiss at him, pushing him away from your area of scattered papers and plopping him down on your bed. “Stay there, don’t make noise, and let us work in peace.” 

He frowns, turning to lay on his stomach and prodding his elbows against the mattress as he rests his chin on his hands. He observes the two of you work, his frown never leaving his face as you kept on ignoring him. 

“Hey, y/n-chan, can I have a kiss?” He asks, looking at your partner to see his reaction. 

“No, Toru, you cannot,” you deadpan, making Usui chuckle. 

His smile only returns to his face upon bidding your partner goodbye, his teeth showing at how happy he was as he faces both you and your mom. “Now, I declare this lovely household cleansed!” 

You only roll your eyes, guiding him up your room so you could cuddle while your mom starts to prepare dinner. 

General Taglist [Open]: @noyasbitchh @dinablossom @haru-the-secret @strayczennies @lalisbitch @tinymidgetsstuff @animebs @astrealia @kittykitkatstrawberry @hajimesbbygrl @kellesvt @24hr7dysdizzy @arnxldss @elianetsantana @vicassa @floraraine @beanst0ck @leinnah @kageyamasgirl @deafeningart @minibobabottle   @franko-pop @moonlightaangel @throughtheinterstices @micasaessakusa @dixonsbugaboo​ 

[troubatrain]

set it up - a. beauvillier

a/n: i started this idk 9000 years ago with three different hockey boys but i’ve never written for tito and this could be 6k words of absolute garbage but i think you guys will like it?? it was inspired when i watching the Netflix movie Set It Up, which I absolutely love because who doesn’t love a romcom. I wanna thank @nazdaddy​ for giving it a quick read like halfway through to hype me up you’re a real one!!

You felt sick.

Your feet hurt, your head was pounding and you were absolutely soaked. It started in the morning, waking up late for and having to sacrifice your morning coffee so your boss wouldn’t kill you. Then there was the workday from hell, skipping lunch to work on a project because your boss’s son had a brain the size of a raisin. By the time five rolled around, a storm had sweeped into New York, soaking the city streets on a day when you didn’t have an umbrella on hand. The subway packed, and by the time you’d gotten back to your apartment you were absolutely exhausted. You were looking forward to a night in, a glass of wine and ordering take out.

Then you were met with the sight of a pink scrunchie, sparkling against your door and stopping you dead in your tracks.

Rose was your best friend, and that was the sole reason why you haven’t murdered her yet. You’d lived with Rose since you were freshman in college, randomly paired up as roommates and you got lucky she turned out to be your friend. In all of those years, she’d been with the same guy who she met approximately four hours after you moved into your dorm. Cam was great, until one day he just wasn’t. Rose still didn’t know what happened, but after grieving the longest relationship she’d ever been in for months, she was finally ready to start dating again. Turns out, dating again, was going to ruin your life.

You furrow your eyebrows, rubbing your hand over your eyes and trying to remember if she mentioned having anyone over. You open your phone, remembering how you turned on do not disturb sometime after she sent you her tenth meme of the day while you were working your ass off.

Having Kyle over for dinner - among other things, can you stay out for a bit?

You lean your head back, letting out a small scream in frustration. You hear a laugh behind you, and you turn around to be met by your neighbor. Anthony Beauvillier was an okay neighbor. He was quiet, usually giving you some sort of heads up that he’d been having a party which was rare. You knew he was gone most of the time because of hockey, but you never cared to ask any questions further than that. One thing you did notice about your neighbor, was just how handsome he looked in a suit on the rare occasion you caught him in the elevator.

“You okay?” Anthony asks, turning his head to the side, “Are you locked out?”

“No,” You sigh, debating whether or not you really needed to drop this on him, “Rose has a friend over, and I missed her text to tell me to stay out.”

“But you’re soaked,” Anthony points out, pointing to the water that was dripping off of you, “Come by me.”

“Oh you don’t have to do that, I’ll just-” You start to decline his invite, but his eyes were kind while they were staring at you, an amused smile on his face.

“C’mon Y/N, I’ll get you some dry clothes,” Anthony smiles, opening up his apartment door and insisting you came in, “And I’m not going to cook all of this for myself.”

Anthony holds up the grocery bags in his hand, soft eyes and a smile to match staring back at you. You nod, taking the invitation inside because it beat sloshing around in your heels, “Thanks Anthony.”

“You can call me Beau if you want,” Anthony shrugs, pointing down the hallway of the apartment that was identical to yours, “My rooms down there take whatever you want.”

Anthony moves around his kitchen, his mind wandering about why he felt compelled to invite her neighbor inside. Really he felt bad, you looked like you were having an awful day and getting sexiled from your own apartment probably would have been enough to break you. Anthony was tired too, his body was sore from a rough practice earlier that day. Not to mention the team was on a five game losing streak and while Anthony knew he could be doing more himself, he knew Mat wasn’t playing up to usual standards either.

Mat was a mess, and it was starting to drive Anthony absolutely crazy. He thought he was in love, a random girl he followed on Instagram who he took out a few times. Mat thought it was something, turns out she thought it was something casual. Now, his usual cocky and charismatic best friend was just a sad shell of himself. Selfishly, Anthony wanted him to get over it because if he did then they’d probably win a few more games and Trotz wouldn’t have them skate until someone threw up.

Then it hit him, the second you walked back into the kitchen with his clothes hanging off your frame while you pulled your hair back an idea came to Anthony’s head. If you wanted peace and quiet, he could give it to you, “Does Rose do this a lot?”

“Lately,” You sigh, sitting at the barstool next to the island, “Her boyfriend broke up with and after she cried for a few months she decided to be single and that’s ruining my life.”

“What if I could help?” Anthony asks, raising his eyebrows at you.

“You don’t need to let me into your place because Rose is-” You go to tell him no - whatever idea he had couldn’t be a fix all solution for your current problem.

“My teammate Mat, he’s single, and honestly sad, but he does have his own place where Rose can spend all her time…” Anthony suggests, dragging out his last words to give you a minute to think.

“What if they don’t even like each other?” You ask, stating what you thought should be the obvious.

“We’ll just set them up on a few dates, I’ll give Mat advice that you give me and it’ll all work out,” Anthony argues back, “We’re in complete control here.”

“But then it’s not real,” You remind him, that if you told Mat exactly how to date Rose it wouldn’t be Mat dating Rose at all.

“Does it matter?” Anthony asks, “You get a quiet apartment and my team gets a few wins, “What's the harm?”

“The harm is our friend's feelings,” You say, your hands in the air while you continued to talk. You were stopped by a ding on your phone, a text from Rose giving you a fair warning that her friend was staying over. You roll your eyes, “You know what - fine.”

“Really? You’re in?”

“Don’t make me regret this.”

***

You didn’t know why Anthony had you meeting him at the coffee shop just a few blocks away from your building, but judging by the all black outfit he was sporting, something told you that it was because he was taking this set up thing too seriously.

“Are we spies now?” You ask, slipping into the chair and crossing your arms, “Because if we are you aren’t doing a very good job.”

“I’m not doing a good job? You’re wearing yellow,” Anthony says, “You could not be any more obvious.”

“Whatever, when’s Mat going to get here?” You ask, grabbing the coffee Anthony had waiting for you.

The plan was simple, Anthony knew that Mat knew who Rose was to some capacity, because Mat had told his friend on more than one occasion about how hot his neighbors were. So, you were both going to force them to actually speak to each other. Anthony suggested just telling them that you were setting them up on a date, but you insisted that if this was going to work they would have to think this happened without the will of the two of you. So you both invited them to the same place, and after you both conveniently miss your plans they would have to run into eachother.

“He should be here soon, I tipped the barista $40 to mix up their coffees and let us watch from their kitchen,” Anthony explains, holding up to his end of the plan, “Which by the way, was way more than I think they would have taken.”

“Oh I’m sure you’ll be okay,” You roll your eyes, reminding him that you were living with Rose to keep your rent down while Anthony could live alone comfortably, “Shit, I see them.”

You both got up, sneaking into the back where the barista who was working just shook her head at the two of you. You peek out, watching the scene unfold in front of you. Anthony wraps his arm around your chest, pulling you back into him, “I swear if you get caught.”

You try to push the thought about how good Anthony smelled, or how nice his arm felt around you while you tried to focus on Rose who just grabbed Mat’s coffee by accident. Mat tells her it’s his, a joke about how familiar she looked following shortly after. Their conversation was brief, and for a minute you thought maybe it wasn’t going to work. Then you saw Mat slip his phone out of his pocket, holding it out for Rose to take.

“Oh my god, it’s working,” You exclaim, Anthony’s hand flying over your mouth immediately. He mumbled something in French, and there was no way you were going to be able to make it out. Anthony’s phone dings, and he pulls it out to show a text from Mat sent promptly after Rose was out of the cafe.

I think I just asked your neighbor out.

Anthony was beaming, pulling his hand off your mouth while you both watched Mat leave the shop, “This date needs to be perfect.”

“It will be as long as you listen to me,” You say, turning around to cross your arms at him, “Because if this is going to work-”

“You almost blew our cover, I’m in charge here,” Anthony scoffs, “You’re like the worst sidekick in the world.”

“You’re the sidekick here.”

“No it’s you, you’re Robin and I’m Batman.”

***

“Here?”

“No.”

“How about this one?”

“God, no she hates seafood.”

You’d been trying to figure out where you were going to set up Mat and Rose’s first date for hours. Every restaurant Anthony mentioned just wasn’t enough, and Mat was dying for some help from his friend. Anthony was frustrated, mostly with you for not just choosing something and calling it a day.

“This is why you’re single, by the way, because these places are just meh,” You argue, pulling his laptop from his hands, “Where’s the romance?”

“I’ll have you know I’m very romantic,” Anthony scoffs, not having any of your shit, “Ask any girl I’ve ever dated.”

“Seems like they’re all gone, wonder why,” You hum, scrolling through the Google search.

“Fine, how about this? He takes her to a show because you said she loves musicals,” Anthony suggests, pulling the laptop from your hands, “After Mat sets up a dinner by his place because he’s got a sick rooftop and if all goes to plan Rose will be there all night.”

You whip your head around to look at the man next to you, a grin on his face because he very well may have nailed it when it came to a first date. It was simple, yet fancy enough to keep Rose interested, “That just might work.”

You kept your mouth closed about why keeping Rose out all night was going to work for you. You had a date with someone you matched with on Hinge who seemed nice enough and the opportunity to take him home at the end of the night didn’t seem like a bad move. You didn’t want to let that information slip to Anthony, and you didn’t know why. You didn’t like him, and you were pretty positive he was only putting up with you because you were both trying to set Mat and Rose up.

“It’s a date then?” Anthony asks, pulling out his phone to give Mat all the details about the date he should be taking his neighbor on. Anthony made it clear to Mat he’d know, despite the fact that before the other night Anthony hadn’t had so much as a conversation with Rose or yourself. However, he had you and you knew Rose better than anyone.

***

You sat across from your date, twirling the glass of wine in your hand while he talked about his family. Ben was nice, and honestly you were enjoying his company. The restaurant was almost perfect, because knowing it made your rejection list for Mat and Rose’s first date location wasn’t something you could shake. Ben had to be oblivious to it, a delighted smile on his face from across you. Your phone rang on the table, and Anthony’s number popped up for the third time that evening. You knew Rose and Mat were well into their date at this point, and you had the night planned so perfectly nothing could possibly go wrong.

“You can take that if you need to,” Ben suggests, a gentle tone to his voice. You nod, feeling a little bad for stepping away from your conversation to answer the call.

“I’m on a date,” You grit out the second you were out of Ben’s earshot, “Someone better be dead Beau.”

“We’re about to be,” Anthony huffs out, “The chef Mat hired canceled and I have all of these ingredients and I know how to cook three things and they aren’t steak.”

“Beau,” You whisper harshly, “Figure. It. Out.”

“Absolutely not, if this tanks you’re coming down with me,” Anthony begs, “Please come to Mat’s and help me.”

So you did. You loved Rose too much to let this blow up in your face because of Anthony’s inability to cook a meal. Ben was understanding, accepting the excuse that you weren’t feeling well and even offering to pay for your cab back home. You declined, because you didn’t have the heart to tell him you had to bail out Anthony.

By the time you finally got to Mat’s, you could hear a string of curses on the other side of the door and the smell of something burning. You walked in and a pan was practically on fire while Anthony turned around frantically.

“Oh my god, move,” You demand, grabbing the pan and turning down the stove, “You really can’t cook anything?”

Anthony was dumbfounded, standing in Mat’s kitchen letting his eyes wander down your bare legs. You looked good and if you weren’t about to chew him out Anthony might have said something. But you were standing in front of him, arms crossed while you waited for him to say something. When he didn’t you sighed, pushing him out of the way and getting to work.

“Make yourself useful and set the damn table,” You demand, pointing a spatula in his direction. This dinner had to be perfect if this was going to work. You relished in the silence, getting to work on the dinner that you were left to save.

“So how was your date?” You hear Anthony’s voice float back into the apartment, and you turn around to give him a dirty look, “Or did I ruin that?”

“You didn’t totally ruin it, Ben was nice,” You shrug, not really wanting to get into it. The thing was, Ben was nice and that seemed to be a rare thing to find. Sure, you could have done without the boring work talk, but it was better than some of the other dates you’d been on lately.

“Hm, just nice?” Anthony stifles a a laugh, closing his mouth immediately when your eyes narrowed at him, “Sorry. I’ll leave probably boring but nice Ben alone.”

“I used to think you were nice, you know?” You snark back, plating the dinner just as Mat slipped in to grab the food.

“Dude you’re a lifesaver,” Mat immediately thanks Anthony and you had to roll your eyes at the sigh, “Wait aren’t you-”

“Rose’s roommate, uh yeah, she cooks all the time so I called her,” Anthony rushes to explain, the idea that Mat would recognize you going right over his head in a panic.

“Well, thanks you guys really saved my ass,” Mat says, grabbing two plates and heading up to the roof where you knew Rose was probably checking her teeth in nervous panic. 

It took forever to clean up the kitchen, Anthony’s sad initial attempt to cook was disastrous. You probably didn’t help, and by the time you were done cooking you had used every pan in Mat’s apartment. You could hear Rose’s voice in the hall and you both looked at each other in a panic. Anthony grabbed your hand, pulling you into the nearest closet to the kitchen.

“Quiet,” Anthony whispers, your mind far too distracted by your head pressed against his chest to care about just how small this closet was. You were trying to steady your own breathing, the closet was small and when Anthony took up most of the space you could feel a bit of anxiety creeping in. You wrap your arms around his waist, your fingers digging into his sides to grab a hold of quite literally anything. Anthony can feel it, how nervous you were so he took a chance and carded his fingers through your hair in an attempt to calm you down just a little bit, “Just wait until they’re in his room and I’ll take us home I promise.”

You nodded against his chest, closing your eyes and just letting Anthony provide you with any comfort he was willing to give. He was a bit snarky and definitely a little too bossy but he was the best you were going to get for the moment. You hear a door click and with Rose’s giggle on the other side you knew you were in the clear.

“So you really went through all of this just for a few wins?” You break the silence in Anthony’s car, looking out the window while he drove you both home.

“I mean, yeah, when Mat plays his best so do the rest of us,” Anthony shrugs, “Don’t tell me I could be playing better, I’ve heard it enough.”

“I wasn’t going to,” You defend, your voice small, “Do you think we could get them away for a night next weekend?”

“Hot date? Boring Ben doesn’t seem like he’d sleep over until the third date,” Anthony jokes, tapping you on the thigh.

“Sort of, I have my boss’s birthday party and I just want him to hate me less,” You admit, plus the office gossip always seemed to revolve around the fact that you never brought a date anywhere.

“I think you’re impossible to hate, trust me I’ve been trying.”

“You’re an ass.”

“Do you want my help or not?”

***

Everything was going wrong, like very wrong. The bigger plan was actually going the way it was supposed to, Rose and Mat were off to an Airbnb in the Hamptons for a night that Anthony just happened to mention to Mat during practice the day after you cooked them that dinner. That, however, was the only thing going well for you. You were dressed up, the black dress you were wearing looked absolutely killer on you. Your leg was poking out of the slit that was appropriate for a work event and the date you were supposed to be on, but your date was nowhere to be seen. Turns out Boring Ben wasn’t boring at all, or he was just a total douche and you never realized. Regardless, you were dateless yet again, and you had to admit it was a bit of an ego killer too. You thought about not going, but after telling a few of your coworkers that not only were you going, you were bringing a date.

You take a deep breath, bracing yourself for the passive aggressive comments from the newlyweds who seemed to litter your office. You had ten wedding invitations last summer from your coworkers alone, and now you had to show up dateless for what felt like the millionth time in your life.

“Woah,” You hear Anthony’s voice as soon as the elevator opened, a low whistle escaping from his lips until he realized you were without your date, “Where’s that Ben dude?”

“He didn’t show if you really need to know,” You complain and Anthony could feel his heart break just a little.

Anthony sighs, taking a look at his watch and then back at you. You looked hurt, despite the smile plastered on your face that he could see right through. He was going to have a night in, maybe even invite over the girl he’d been hooking up with but in his heart he knew what the right thing to do was, “Give me five minutes to change?”

“No Beau you really don’t have to come, I got stood up, it's on me,” You rush out, stopping Anthony dead in his tracks.

“It’s not your fault that dude was an asshole,” Anthony scoffs, “And you look too good to not have a date.”

Anthony didn’t say another word, unlocking the door to his place and coming back out less than five minutes later in a freshly pressed suit, “No tie okay?”

“No tie is fine,” You squeaked out, watching Anthony fix the cuffs of his shirt. Everyone thinks a man putting on a suit is hot right? It wasn’t just that he looked damn good in it, “You can still back out.”

Anthony didn’t back out, in fact, he was a better date than you thought he could be. He was being a good sport, especially when you came to the realization your boss was a huge Islanders fan. He had Anthony by his side all night, no doubt pestering him about the season. You felt awful, and while Anthony had a smile on his face you couldn’t help but feel guilty for putting him in the situation in the first place.

“I met that boyfriend of yours,” Your coworker Stella says, nudging you with her elbow, “He seems like a keeper.”

“Oh he’s-” You went to deny any indication that Anthony was your boyfriend but you knew Stella better than that, and just like she did at everyone Monday morning team meeting, she was interrupting you before you had a chance to finish your sentence.

“And don’t even tell me it’s not serious he couldn’t stop talking about you,” Stella grabs your arm, and you raise your eyebrows and look at Anthony. He catches your eye, sending you a wink while he goes back to listening to whatever your boss was rambling about, “See? So cute.”

The night was going smoothly, and by the time dinner rolled around you were done for the night. One too many glasses of wine had your head resting on Anthony’s shoulder while your boss's wife made a toast. His hand was resting on the exposed skin on your thigh and if you weren’t convinced you were overthinking it - you may have thought Anthony was putting in a little more effort.

“I’m sorry my boss was chewing your ear off,” You whisper, catching Anthony’s attention, “I don’t want you to think I brought you because you’re you and he likes your team.”

“I don’t think that,” Anthony assures you, his lips just inches away from kissing on the forehead, “And he doesn’t hate you, he told me liked you.”

“He likes you, seems like everyone does,” You muse, after having gotten compliments all night about what a joy your boyfriend was you were sure Anthony was a better date than he was an actual companion.

“Better date than Ben?” Anthony asks, and you nod with a grin on your face.

Anthony wasn’t sure what he was doing or why. In the short time since he invited you into his place he only learned how annoying you can be, but he’d be a liar if he didn’t think it was cute. It was cute that you thought Mat and Rose could actually fall in love. It was cute that you never kept quiet when you were both sneaking around because something got you excited. And it was downright adorable to watch you laugh at your boss’s wife who was teasing her husband in her speech. He liked you, and he never thought about it until he saw the heartbroken look on your face when you told him your date stood you up.

“Ready to go home?” Anthony whispers, your eyes were getting heavier from the wine, and he wasn’t sure how much longer you would hold up until you fell asleep on his shoulder. Not that Anthony would have minded at all, he might even have preferred it.

By the time you’d gotten back to your apartment building, you made it clear why you limited yourself on wine at events. Anthony kept refilling your glass before you had a chance to stop him, and now he was practically chasing you down the hall because you insisted on running away for no reason at all.

“For a professional athlete you’re pretty slow,” You poke Anthony in the chest, who was currently fishing through your purse for your set of keys. He finally finds them turning them into the lock and opening the door, “Beauuuu.”

“Yes?” Anthony asks, grabbing your waist while you tripped over your heels.

“Do you think Mat really likes Rose?” You ask, the question wasn’t really for Anthony at all. It was coming from a guilty feeling that had been stewing inside of you for a few days. Rose seemed smitten, and a part of you knew a lot of those dates were just planned by you.

“He does, it’ll all work out,” Anthony assures you, because the frown on your face told him that if he didn’t he was about to have a crying Y/N on his hands and he didn’t want to be the one to make you cry.

“Promise?” You ask, finally slipping off your heels and leaning against the doorframe. You wanted him to stay, use the age old it’s late excuse for a few more hours where he was close to you. His apartment was across the hall, and asking him to stay would be silly. You watched him head out the door, turning around to give you one more look and answer your question.

“Yeah I promise.”

***

This entire thing had gotten out of hand, and Rose and Mat’s relationship was becoming a chore. You had stopped them from killing each other twice in the past week, texting Anthony almost exact directions on how Mat was going to fix whatever stupid he said. Mat didn’t know, or maybe he did and he didn’t care to say anything about how with your help his relationship with Rose would be over before it started. Now, you were hiking across the city for flowers so Mat could apologize to Rose for forgetting her mother’s name as if she didn’t talk about her family constantly. You finally got them to Mat’s wiping a bead of sweat off your forehead when a text came that rocked your world.

I think I love Mat, he literally had these delivered after I got mad at him.

Attached was a picture of the flowers, and a guilty feeling churned in your stomach while you made your way back to your place. You stopped in the hallway, looking at Anthony’s door biting your lip and thinking about what the consequences of this all really was - and it was eating at you.

You were fucked, completely and utterly fucked. It seemed wrong, like everything in your best friend’s love life was a lie you created because it was. So you panicked, and snuck away to Anthony’s without a second thought. You knocked twice, a sleepy hockey player appearing on the other side. 

“Rose is in love with Mat,” You state, pushing Anthony into his own place and walking past him.

“Isn’t that what we wanted?” Anthony asks, watching you pace through his apartment.

“It’s not real, everything Mat knows about Rose is because you told him,” You explain, stopping in the middle of the room, “We planned their dates, we did everything, and when they realize they might not as much in common as they think Rose is going to be heartbroken and-”

“So, you got what you wanted? She’s always over there,” Anthony counters back, not mentioning the hot streak his teammate was on.

“You don’t see anything with this?” You ask, furrowing your eyebrows at the man you thought you knew in front of you, “That your friend is going to be with someone when their relationship is built on a lie.”

“You act like he’s going to marry her,” Anthony groans, not even realizing until after the words left his mouth about how awful that sounded. Your jaw had dropped, your eyes wide while you look at Anthony, “Wait Y/N-”

“I’m telling them the truth,” You say, a stoic robotic tone to your voice. You thought about telling Rose just minutes before you left your place, but you stopped yourself before you ratted out your friend. Now, it seemed like it didn’t matter. Anthony was going to be a selfish asshole regardless of what you did and you weren’t going to let that sham of a relationship continue, “I shouldn’t have listened to your stupid idea to begin with.”

***

You walked out of Anthony’s life after that, and in the week that’s passed since, he was miserable. He didn’t know what you told Rose, but he definitely heard the arguing you were having with her from across the hall. He knew he should have stepped in, but the way you looked at him when you left was the only reason he didn’t. You looked at him with such disdain, like the mere indication that he didn’t care about his own friend’s feelings were the most awful thing he could have done.

Maybe it was, either way the guilt was eating Anthony alive. He called, but you never picked up. He texted you, using some dumb excuse about needing to grab a package outside his door while he on a road trip but an answer never came. Hell, he even tried to email you. The only thing left to do was walk across the hall and knock on your door, if you were even still there.

“Dude you’re doing it again,” Mat says, tossing a chip at his teammate and catching Anthony’s attention, “Just go over there and apologize.”

“Did you apologize to Rose?” Anthony huffs, annoyed with Mat’s attempt at giving him any advice.

“I didn’t have to because this was your fault,��� Mat explains, reminding Anthony of exactly what happened after you left his place. You told Rose everything, and after what Anthony heard as a nasty fight - Rose and Mat spilt up once they realize they actually had nothing in common, “And fuck you dude because I still apologized to Rose after that.”

“Fine, I’ll go over,” Anthony budges, stomping out of his own place and across the hall to yours. He knocked twice, hearing some shuffling on the other end. The door finally clicked open, and when Anthony was met with Rose’s face, his shoulders slumped.

“She’s not here,” Rose leans against the doorway, her arms crossed at Anthony, “We’re, uh, taking some time away from each other.”

“This wasn’t Y/N’s fault it was mine,” Anthony rushes to explain, the reality of ruining someone's friendship settling in.

“I know it was,” Rose assures him, because she’d forgiven you just three days after you told her the truth. That wasn’t enough for you to come home, because your own guilt was eating you alive, “She feels too bad, and she doesn’t want to see you.”

That was it, Rose’s words were enough to have reality really settle in. Anthony Beauvillier was a massive asshole, and the reason you weren’t back in your own apartment. He did that. He was going to have to live with that guilt. And he didn’t know how to fix it.

***

It had been a month.

You didn’t know why you knew exactly how many days it’s been since you stomped out of Anthony’s apartment and into your own to tell the truth. But, you did know that exactly thirty days prior that’s just what you did. You told Rose everything, from the stupid plan to your own stupid feelings that seemed to

cloud your judgement. She was upset, and she had every right to be. You knew that she could have kicked you out of the apartment and told you to fuck off, and she did. Three days later, a much calmer Rose was on the phone telling you everything was fine and you could come back home.

You didn’t want to, because you knew Anthony was across the hall living his life just the way he had been before you stepped into it. He was going to go out on dates with girls that weren’t you, and go off on road trips for games he needed to play. He could set Mat up with someone else if he really wanted to, but none of those things would ever involve you again. You packed your stuff, and moved into a new place after couch surfing by a few of your friend’s places.

“You’re depressed,” Rose kicks your leg from the other side of your new couch, a movie night to celebrate your new place was in full effect, “I told you I’m not mad about the Mat thing.”

“I know,” You sigh, staring at the glass of fruity pink wine Rose had brought over, “I just-”

“You miss him,” Rose muses, a knowing look on her face, “It was never about Mat and I, it was always using us as an excuse to see each other.”

“It was about you guys at first,” You defend, staring at the blonde across from you who was looking at you intensely.

“He came and looked for you, after a week,” Rose says, holding onto the tidbit of information she’d been saving for almost a month, “I think he wanted to apologize.”

“Well he didn’t so it doesn’t matter anymore,” You snap back, Rose melting back into the couch to avoid being the next stop on your rage tour. You didn’t want to care about Anthony or his stupid biceps again, but you never stopped thinking about him.

***

Anthony wasn’t doing much better, in fact, he was doing a whole lot worse. He felt like shit, he was playing like shit, and he seemed just like Mat was when he came up with that stupid plan. He tried to throw himself into hockey, push his body where it had never gone before because then he wouldn’t have to think about you. He wouldn’t have to think about how much of a romantic you were or how you helped with even if he didn’t deserve. Most importantly, he wouldn’t have to think about how heartbroken you looked when he told you he didn’t want to come clean because it didn’t matter.

Anthony was doing the same thing he’d been doing all month, stalking your social media profiles in an attempt to see if you were doing okay. He knew you moved, and if he wasn’t on the West Coast maybe he would have stopped you. A text from Mat came in, one that had him rolling his eyes.

My rooftop in twenty it’s an emergency.

***

What Anthony didn’t know was that the same text was sent from Rose’s phone to yours just a few minutes prior. You rushed over Mat’s, absolutely terrified about what you could have been walking into. Except, when you got up to the roof there was nothing. No Mat. No Rose. Just yourself and-

“Fuck,” Anthony whispers, opening the rooftop door to reveal you on the otherside. It was just you, standing there just as confused as he was by the cryptic text from his teammate, “Uh Mat texted me to come?”

A grin threatens to break out on your face, just as the gears were starting to shift in Anthony’s. You were being set up, of course not as well as you would have planned, but it was a set up nonetheless.

“You know what they’re doing right?” You ask, breaking the silence. Anthony just nods, running a hand over his face without saying a word, “I’m going to go-”

“No,” Anthony rushes out, grabbing your arm and intertwining his fingers with yours, “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry? You made me cry for weeks and almost blew up my longest friendship and all you have to say is sorry?” You questioned him, waiting for Anthony to come up with something better than that.

“What do you want me to say? That I didn’t want to stop doing this because I didn’t want to stop hanging out with you?” Anthony exclaims, “Because that’s the truth. I was being a selfish asshole, and I know that I don’t deserve your forgiveness but I feel awful for what I did to you. I was so scared to come and apologize because you have every right to tell me to go fuck myself and never speak to me again. The problem is, I want to talk to you. I want to listen to you talk about why you were a hopeless romantic, and take you home after you drank too much at a work thing. I-”

Anthony couldn’t finish his rant, because you pressed your lips against his before he had the chance. His hands were on your face, pulling you as closely as he could because he needed this kiss to show you that he wanted you. You finally pulled away, breathless while Anthony’s hands snuck down to your waist. His forehead was against yours, your noses bumping together while he whispered his next words.

“We’re not telling Mat this worked.”

“Oh definitely not, no more set ups?”

“Unless it’s me setting up our first date, consider it a promise.”

[pen-observing]

I finished my fic with this theme and I did the brothers reacting to this. So how could I, an undatables enthusiast, not make this? It took a while but it’s here. Some brain cells were involved in the making of this post,,,, I guess?

MASTERLIST

How the undatables react/pursue you after Diavolo cheats on you while married

Diavolo:

Why is he here? Well you see-- why not

In the human world some believe that the ultimate proof of love is giving the cheater another chance, fighting to salvage a relationship

In all honesty, Diavolo never expects that from you, nor does he hope such a thing can happen

He curses himself for a momentary weakness. A prince, a ruler, so easily swayed and influence does not carry any nobility or respect

He may be the most influential, the most powerful- but he starts seeing himself as weak

He hides away from his thoughts in work, in new holidays, in friendships and partnerships and in excuses

He tries not to give those thoughts space to grow

But, the damage has been done

Diavolo’s worst enemy and worst critic, the one who judges him the most is himself

He knows that with this one deed (some may call it a momentary lapse in judgement) he has undone all the work it took years to build

He knows that falling into temptation is the biggest mistake he has ever made; especially because he cannot bear to have you hate him when he loves you so much

Diavolo has no guts to admit that after what he did, he believes he has no right to claim it face-to-face

So, he randomly visits Lucifer to see you, ask about you. He tasks Barbatos with keeping you safe. Little Ds are ordered to make your life easier without being noticed

Because of what happened, he doubts that he deserves the place and title of a King

And, you notice that the most- in the smiles, in the speeches, in the doubt and guilt that radiates off from him

The only way to salvage this and get back together lies with you. If you, after so much time can forgive but not forget. If you can wish to grow into a union once more.  

He goes along with your wish for divorce just as quickly as he goes for your wish of reconciliation.  

He does not force you, he respects whatever you decide.

Barbatos:

Probably the one which would provide the most material for gossip and speculation, in theory

In practice, it’s like a 500k slow burn romance

Here is why; Barbatos is a man of duty and loyalty to the person that hurt you. He finds no amusement in being the center of gossip nor does he wish for you to go through the dirt. Devildom is such a cruel place, you cannot even imagine what could come your way if the relationship was established early on.

Besides, it is even hard for you to not have Barbatos remind you of Diavolo once the relationship first breaks

Babratos gives you time to heal and move on before he does anything which can show his romantic interest

He knows how charming you are, he knows your habits and he knows that he must be patient before a true connection can be established

So, how does it happen? Well, after healing from Diavolo you naturally, through fate or the wonder of time, need to spend some time in the same circle

Obligations, work and friendships bring you together in a weird way

The balls and parties are something you must attend and because Barbatos knows you, he knows just what you like

The perfect place for you to sit which is neither too warm nor too hot, a place far away from people you do not like in their world but close enough so that you do not miss anything important or fun. For some reason, it always smells like your favorite scent too

The perfect place, the perfect tea, the delicious food with small hidden notes which do not give away his intention but do show his affection  

It just grows more and more unbearable  

The lingering stares, the short but warm goodbyes, the way his hands just brush against yours for a moment longer than usual when he takes your coat

It creates a magical attraction inside that long game, which, as expected, Barbatos is better at than you

You try to find him alone and, in those moments; inside the kitchen or under the stairs while everyone is far away dancing, it becomes just the world of you two

His tone is warmer, he is more direct. You sometimes, inside such short pauses, are able to exchange warmth. In conversations, in the longing looks, in the way his hand holds yours. In the way he gently takes your wrist, puts his hand on the small of your back to guide you back inside a world which is overabundant in fancy but doesn’t feel meaningful without him in it

Sometimes, it can even hold a soft kiss

But, it becomes torture. Enough is enough. His privacy starts to seem like secrecy to you for all the wrong reasons. As a human, you aren’t patient enough to wait 4 years until something, anything happens  

So, you seek him out at the next party. They’re too rare in your opinion now. You seek him out and find him on the stairs as he goes to complete another task.

Bravery or foolishness, it does not matter which of the two makes you stop him. Makes you ask him; when? When will this secrecy end?

In reality, it doesn’t really matter. He would probably kabedon you on the stairs (as a true gentleman! don’t get it twisted!)

He holds time itself in his hands and yet you asked him.  

He whispers: “All in good time, my love. All in good time.”  

And leaves you like that.

So, what is the good time?  

It is already the point where you forgot about Diavolo but; has Diavolo forgotten about you?

That is what Barbatos waits for. He sees no need to ask his lord such a thing. Diavolo notices it himself. How could he not? Diavolo also knows that he does not love you anymore.

So, the next time Diavolo comes to the kitchen and sees your favorite tea (the one he never drinks) he gives Barbatos the permission, the freedom to go pursue you.  

After all, it is time.

Simeon:

The most empathic out of everyone.  

The best choice even

Why? With him, you would only feel compassion and care.

Gentleness.  

There is no drama that could follow you when you turn to him.

He has not sworn loyalty to Diavolo. He is not his partner. He lives in a completely different realm.  

It is really the exact change that you need. At first, it seems so odd because you are used to a completely different world but; it is comfort. It is care. It is everything that helps you heal

In truth, Simeon’s instinct gravitates towards that. It gravitates towards making sure that you heal in all aspects. Physically, emotionally- most importantly- your soul should shine like it used to

After you start that process it brings long conversations where you two ponder over what it means to live and love. You discuss theories and opinions. Simeon has loved longer than you, he has seen countless love stories- he even wrote some.

This process can even inspire him to flesh out a new character

In actuality, Simeon warned both Diavolo and you with masqueraded words about what marriage truly means before you got married

So now, he doesn’t say ‘I told you so’ or ‘Why didn’t you listen to me’. He just hopes that you won’t grow to hate the whole institution and tradition that marriage is

And honestly? Simeon shows you unrequited love so, how could you ever think that with him?

Here, you will be the first to realize your emotions and you will probably need to act on them first as well

Solomon:

He is somewhere in the human world, inside a secret room of an abandoned castle just thinking of new spells when he gets a text from Asmo about what happened

Dramatic as fuck gasp while his potion drops to the floor and now the floor is pink

Solomon, with all the years that he has been alive, with all the pacts and mistakes he has made- still is more human than the rest of them

This does not mean that he will be the best at comforting you but he already packed the most important things to go and see you. Is that not enough to show immediate care?

Instead of comforting you by himself he spends time in the House of Lamantation, working with the rest of the brothers  

Time has passed, you both have changed so it takes a bit for him to get familiar with you again and to work out your habits

Probably tries to joke like: “Even if that red tree branch offered me to make a pact with him I would refuse for your sake.”

It shows that, despite all the flaws and morally gray actions, he stands on your side- not his

But, life inside that house has to move on. He can’t really stay calm and tied down to it for months and as he is preparing for his next trip- he asks you to go with him

It is a true change of pace. You will experience new things you never dreamed of. He can teach you magic. He can show you places in the human world full of it

He promises to make sure that you are safe

So you set off with him

It is a grand adventure. It holds both comfort and new things that only make you grow.  

It holds his teasing as well but he never lets anything bad happen to you

He realizes his affections before you but you are so busy taking in the world’s wonders that he keeps them a secret for just a while longer because you are so excited. Your eyes shine and he just knows you have new stories to remember and uncover at the same time

You don’t realize yours until Solomon makes it clear to you, in a sly way.

You stand outside of enchanted ruins. The sky is bright blue with pink lines. Solomon says: “And who would have thought that one of the most powerful witches got cheated on by the man who allegedly enchanted this ruin when he was young? Hmm?~”

And really, who would? You realize then how that did not even cross your mind. How could it? Here you are with Solomon on another adventure that sparked more love as the sky dances for your new story.

Luke:

Has it been years since you got married? Yes

Has Luke grown to love demons? Absolutely not. Are you kidding me?

He throws his little hat to the ground when he finds out

Never trust their kind.  That's what he says

Sure Diavolo had a noble goal once but after this? Once Luke’s good opinion is lost it is lost forever

Baby is very dramatic about the whole thing

How dare that evil creature hurt you? Luke was teary eyed at your wedding and he is teary eyed the next time he sees you  

But

He tries his best. He really does.

He doesn’t have wisdom like Simeon. But he asks him for advice.  

Best believe the only way Diavolo will taste one of his treats again is if Luke yeets it in his face 

Firstly, tumblr better fix their tags because it is unbearable! Now you may ask; yooo why is Barbatos’ so long? Cus thats my boo and he is the main reason I decided to write these reactions in general

[drmmyrs]

Remember Me (Becca x MC)

So, weird story. I was randomly browsing tumblr one time when this ask pops out at the top of the screen (req about amnesia au Becca’s POV). It wasn’t even related to anything I was reading but checked my inbox and it wasn’t there. Most probably the ask isn’t for me but still wrote it just in case 😅

PS if someone DID send me this ask, kindly drop me a message just so I know I’m not seeing things 😭

PPS I’m trying out a new writing style and I’m not sure if it’s any good so I’d really appreciate any feedback 🥺 (this will be a mini series too, I think, since the angst potential is definitely there 😂)

PPPS title is inspired from the song in Coco just cause I’ve been playing it a lot on piano recently

tag list: @whackawriting @samanthadalton @crazzyplays @uselesslesbianfr @baexpoppy @alexroyard @alexlabhont @veenast @noixngn @sillyandcutewizardstuffs (If you wanna be added or removed or just prefer a certain ship just let me know ❤️)

Pairing: Becca x MC (Emily)

Word Count: 2090

I don't remember what happened, nor know where I am, but I hear shouting, lots of it. I try to move, but my body feels completely numb; the only thing I can feel is the trickle of liquid that splatters across my face. Rain? I open my eyes strenuously, but all I can see past my blurry vision are brown eyes glistening with tears. I can't quite make out her face, but for some reason, seeing her cry sends a flurry of emotions that hurt more than my throbbing head. I try to open my mouth, hoping to provide comfort somehow, but no words come out. She is saying something over and over again, something about leaving? But my head hurts too much to be able to comprehend. A siren then blares from a distance, growing louder by the second as flashes of red cloud my vision. And that is when everything turns black.

I slowly open my eyes–still reeling from the nightmare that somehow felt too real–and harsh, blinding lights immediately greet me. I hastily shut my eyes back and suddenly become well aware of the ache engulfing my entire body. It isn't before long that I realize that someone is holding my hand, tracing lazy circles against my skin ever so often. I try to move it but only manage to lift a finger, and at once, the grip tightens and becomes still for a moment before I hear a voice– How can a voice sound so familiar... yet so strange? It's saying my name, urgent and gentle at the same time as though I might break at any second. I try to open my eyes, but exhaustion grips me powerless. And soon, I succumb to its fiery grasp as I slip back into slumber.

When I wake up again, I already feel much stronger than before. The ache in my body has turned into a dull hum as if sharp nails are gently caressing my skin, enough to be felt but not to hurt. I look around the room, panic swelling in my chest as I take in the sight of different medical equipment looming around my bed and needles sticking out of my arm. I fight the urge to squirm as I take big, calming breaths, ignoring how the four white walls seem to close in on me. Thankfully, the door opens, and a nurse walks in, temporarily distracting me from my distress. She smiles upon seeing me awake and walks towards me.

"Welcome back, Ms. Davenport. How are you feeling?"

"W–where am I?" I ask weakly.

"In the hospital. A month ago, you were involved in a car crash, and your head was hurt pretty badly," the nurse says sympathetically. She is now taking my vitals, scribbling something on her chart from time to time.

Car crash?

I scrunch my eyes, trying to remember, but the harder I try, the more my head hurts.

"Wait. A month? Are you saying that I've been here... for a month?"

The nurse nods. "You've been unconscious the entire time. But your vitals now are looking good. The doctor will just run a few tests to make sure we don't miss anything."

I stay quiet for a while, my mind still processing everything the nurse just said, which has only raised new questions.

"Your friends and family were really worried about you, you know. There wasn't a day when you didn't have any visitors. Especially that special friend of yours you were in the car with." The nurse turns towards me, holding a pen against her chin. "What was her name? Em–Emma, I think? She barely left your side. She actually just went to grab some food before you woke up."

...I don't know any Emma, but I don't tell her that.

"What about my parents?"

"Your mom and sister usually visit during the evening."

"And my father?"

The nurse shakes her head. "I don't think I've ever seen your father."

The nurse leaves after a while, and the doctor comes inside the room shortly. I answer a few questions before I'm escorted outside to take some tests. Afterward, the nurse leads me back to my room and gently guides me to bed.

"Would you like me to call in your visitors?" the nurse asks.

I nod.

The nurse goes out, and soon my mom walks in followed by–

"Emily." I frown. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Both of them stop in their tracks. My mom looks at me in concern and confusion, while Emily looks like I just punched her in the gut.

Anger bubbles up inside me as a realization comes to mind. "Y–you. You're the one who did this, aren't you? You're the reason I'm here."

A guilty look flickers across her face, confirming my suspicions. And before I can stop myself, I shout at her to leave, but she stands there motionless, tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

"Go get the doctor," my mom tells her, which snaps her out of her shock. She scurries out of the room at the same time my mom starts walking towards me.

"Why is she here, Mom?"

My mom stops at the side of the bed and reaches out to stroke my hair. "Honey, the accident was not her fault."

"But she was there with me..."

"Yes."

"Why?"

My mom's hand goes still, resting on top of my head. "Becca, what was the last thing you remember?"

"I..." I close my eyes and think hard for a moment. "I–I remember hosting the Kappa party. But that doesn't make any sense. Why would I leave with Emily?"

A brief look of panic flashes across her eyes.

"Mom? What's wrong?"

My mom smiles at me, but it looks forced. "It's nothing, sweetie. The doctor will be here soon."

But I can see that she's trying her best to keep calm–the look on her face similar to when she would talk to my little sister and me right after we would hear her and dad fight.

The doctor comes in a little while later, asking a bunch of questions similar to my mom's. They then do more tests on me, and I grow scared by the minute, not understanding what the hell is going on. Eventually, I'm back in my room alone, my mom and the doctor staying outside to talk. After some time, they enter the room, and my mom sits beside me, taking my hand as the doctor walks towards the other side of the bed.

I look at my mom, drained from all the medical tests I went through the entire day. "What's happening, Mom? I'm scared."

My mom squeezes my hand and gives me a reassuring smile. "The doctor will explain it to you, sweetie. But I'll be right here the whole time." She then gives a single nod to the doctor.

The doctor smiles at me politely. "How are you feeling, Becca?"

I stare at him, suddenly annoyed at being asked the same question over and over again.

"Right then." The doctor clears his throat. "During the accident, your brain was affected more than we initially thought." He pauses, and I meet his gaze, willing him to go straight to the point. "It seems like you have retrograde amnesia, meaning that you have no memory of the past three years of your life."

The doctor goes on and on about the technicalities, but I'm not listening anymore. His voice is reduced to background noise as I repeat his words inside my head, trying to grasp the implications of what he just said. I prop myself up, looking wildly around the room, tugging at my shirt as if it would help me breathe. But it doesn't. My body feels numb, which is why I almost don't notice my mom pulling me into a tight hug, stroking my back comfortingly as she whispers reassurances. I focus on her voice, forcing myself to take deep breaths as I slowly begin to calm down. I pull away after some time, recomposing myself as I find my voice.

"Three years," I whisper.

"We'll help you recover your memories, honey. But for now, you can ask me anything you like."

"I–I think I just need some rest."

My mom nods, helping me settle back in bed before she leaves, promising to be back tomorrow.

Sleep comes easy to me, and I wake up the next day with Madison sitting at the chair next to my bed, browsing her phone.

"Hey, Maddie."

She looks up from her phone, a smile lighting up her face before she practically jumps out of her chair to hug me. "Becca!"

"Ow, that... kinda hurts."

When she pulls away from me, her eyes are teary.

"Sorry, I just missed you so much. You were gone for so long! I thought–"

"Hey, hey, none of that," I say, smiling at her.

She pulls the chair closer to my bed and sits down. "How are you, Becca? Your mom told me about your... condition."

I stare at the ceiling. "Yeah, it sucks." I snap my head back to her. "Tell me something. Do we still hang out a lot?"

"We still meet up from time to time. Not as much as we used to, though," Madison says, smiling sadly.

I nod. "Who do I usually hang out with now?"

"Emily."

I furrow my eyebrows. "Did we become close friends or something?"

"Oh, right. You've only been together for like two years," Madison murmurs contemplatively. "She's your girlfriend, Becca."

I let the information sink in. "You have got to be kidding me." I stare at her wide-eyed. "How–What–Why?"

Madison recounts our 'love story,' each detail more absurd than the last. I don't want to believe any of it, but Emily as my girlfriend... it actually explains everything. I rub my temples. How the hell did that happen? I remember like it was yesterday when she tried to steal Chris away from me. And now... and now...

"Maddie? Can you do me a favor and grab me something to eat? I'm starving."

Madison smiles. "Of course."

Madison goes out in a while, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

***

After a few more days of recovery, I am finally allowed to leave the hospital. Despite my protests, my mom explains that I will have to stay with Emily and her friends at what I assume has been my home for the past two years. She explains that she prefers for someone to look after me constantly, and she will not be able to do that with her job and all.

Outside the hospital, I find Emily waiting near a car; her eyes are bloodshot, as if she hasn't slept a wink in days. When she sees me approaching, her face immediately brightens up. Our gazes lock briefly before I turn back to my mom.

"Are you sure I can't stay with you?"

My mom smiles sadly. "I'm sorry, honey. I wish you could, but..."

"It's okay, I understand."

"Look, I know you don't remember, but these people you've been living with... they care about you very much.”

I nod.

My mom pulls me into a hug before guiding me inside the car, shutting the door afterward. She and Emily talk for a brief moment outside, and I watch as she hugs Emily before walking away. Emily steps into the passenger seat.

Zack, who is sitting in the driver's seat, turns around and smiles at me warmly. "I'm glad you're back."

I shift uncomfortably, ignoring his gaze. "Thanks."

We drive home silently, awkwardness saturating the car space. Upon arriving, I observe the details of the house, seeing if it sparks any memories... but nothing. I see Emily looking at me intently, probably thinking the same thing. They then lead me inside the house, and I step in hesitantly, taking in the surroundings, which vary immensely from the sorority house, the last place I lived based on my memories. Emily guides me to my room, lingering near me as I open the door.

"Becca–"

I turn towards her. "Please don't. I know you think I'm your girlfriend. A–and I guess I was. But as far as I remember, I don't like you at all. So I would appreciate it if you just leave me alone." I turn around and go inside my room, shutting the door behind me. I then lie on the bed, trying to forget how the light dimmed out of Emily's eyes as I broke her heart.

[multistanman]

Suncream

Fromis_9 Seoyeon x Male Reader

1930 words

-

Had a rush of ‘inspiration’ after seeing this photo. I can only apologise for my style potentially being jarring or any other issues. I think it was only an hour or so but it’s hard to know when in a ‘boner haze’

Mondays sucked, no two ways about it. Fortunately, you had managed to get the day off work thanks to the manager suddenly having to call in sick due to "unforeseen developments" the night before. So whilst everyone else was going to be stuck inside of a cramped office building on such a fine day, you decided that you were going to spend some time relaxing and taking in rays on the beach. As you had predicted, the beach was mostly empty because, well, who on earth goes to the beach on a Monday morning. There was only one other person present and they seemed quite happy to mind their own business listening to music. With the hope of preventing any unwanted confrontation or awkward interaction (the fateful last words), you put down your towel behind and just right of the other person. But, of course, your luck ran out and you dropped your water bottle straight onto your foot, immediately suppressing the outrageous string of vulgarities you were about to release. Evidently, the attempt was not good enough as the girl lying in front of you turned around, curious of the muffled bottle on human violence occurring behind her. She pulled down her sunglasses for a better view of what was going on. Her eyes were quite stunning, with subtle dark circles surrounding her hazel irises, making her look sort of like a panda. No doubt you looked quite insane in this moment. A man on a beach on a Monday morning bouncing up and down cursing underneath his breath with no apparent cause staring into this random girl's eyes all the while. The girl, however, seemed entirely disinterested, tutted at you and returned to her music and tanning. You eventually got yourself settled onto your towel, taking special care not to drop anything else in slight fear of panda eyes tutting at you again. You stared at the ocean for a wall before you saw the girl moving in your peripheral vision. She had sat up for a drink of water but seemed to be struggling to remove the lid of the bottle. As a chivalrous gentleman, you moved to offer to help. At which point, she did manage to get the bottle open but not in the way one would typically open a bottle. With all the force she was putting into removing the lid, she ended up jerking the bottle upwards when it finally came loose, dousing herself in water. You stopped in an squat halfway between standing up and kneeling, not sure quite what to say or do in the situation. Your knowledge of chivalry only extended so far. A gentleman should not interfere when a lady has gotten wet after all. You both remain still in the end until eventually the girl begins to dry herself off with the towel, looks at you in your strange half squat and tuts again. That was now two tuts you had received in the space of fifteen minutes from this same girl. In a very strange way, it was sort of refreshing to see someone with such little care. Some more time passes as you both return to your original positions until you are once again distracted by her movement. This time it seemed she was re-applying her sun cream. She sneaks a quick glance at you before shaking the bottle up and down and popping the lid up. She squeezes a sizable amount onto her free hand and begins to work it into her abs and stomach. You had become quite entranced by the sun cream-centric performance happening before you as she sensually rubbed the remaining cream into her skin. The girl then moves onto covering her thighs, seemingly not realising that you are watching the whole ordeal with your mouth agape. In order to get her thighs, the girl decides to sit on her knees, giving you a wonderful view of her ass in her denim shorts. Her ass swayed from side to side as she massaged the sun cream into her thighs. It was at this point, that she finally caught you peeking as she looked over her shoulder, clearly feeling your eyes undressing her from behind. You panicked and grabbed the book that was lying next with the goal of looking as smooth and relaxed as possible. You tried to seem as nonchalant as possible as the girl walked up to you and asked "You like what you see huh?" "Yep, I mean this book is amazing. Crazy that you've read it as well, I mean what are the chances of that?" was the best response that you could think of under pressure. She clearly called your bluff as she pulled her sunglasses down so you could see those cute panda eyes again. But, instead of tutting at you again, she hands you the bottle of sun cream and turns around, beginning to tie her hair up into pigtails so that you could properly cover her back. Given that this girl was even talking to you after you had so blatantly ogled her, encouraged you to try and use up all of your luck. You took the bottle and poured some sun cream onto both of your hands. You massaged the sun cream in between the girl's shoulder blades and worked your way up to her nape making sure you to press your palms into all of the sensitive areas. You thought you heard a slight moan but it could have been sunstroke getting to your brain. You finished up the application with some professional masseuse level karate chops and went to hand the bottle back. The girl takes the bottle and you sit back down, still wondering if that was an actual moan that you heard when rubbing it in. That question was quickly answered when the girl straddled you, once again handing you the bottle as she motioned towards her breasts and chest. "How rude to leave a girl uncovered like that" she added before leaning back slightly, inviting you in. You obliged because you were not going to pass up the opportunity to essentially feel this beautiful girl's breasts as she was sat on your lap. As you poured more sun cream onto your hands, the girl removed the mesh top she was wearing leaving her only in her vanilla bralette, shorts and a necklace hanging perfectly between her breasts. Her breasts were not the largest but they were pushed up nicely by the top and they fit her smaller frame nicely. By this point, she had also removed her sunglasses and was sat looking expectantly at you with those damned panda eyes. You tentatively began to rub the sun cream into her chest but she grabs your hands and pulls them onto her tits and starts massaging herself with your hands. She bites her lip seductively and pushes you down onto your towel. You both look into each other's eyes as you feel her hands work up underneath your shirt feeling up your chest and abs. Your lips locked as she caressed your upper body and your tongues collided in an unholy mess as she tried to assert her dominance over you. You were quite happy to take the backseat and let her do the work on top of you. She got tired of your mouth as her hands walked their way down to your shorts, unbuttoned them and pulled down both your shorts and boxers just enough that she could pull your now erect cock out. Without any hesitation or adjustment, she takes your whole cock into her mouth and looks up at you. It seemed strange to admit but the panda eyes + mouth full of your dick really was a good look for her. She twisted and jerked the base of your cock with her hand as she sucked up and down still maintaining the eye contact. You felt your toes stretch and crunch as she ran her tongue up the underside of your cock and finished by licking your urethra and you knew you were coming close to cumming. You relayed this information to the girl and she immediately stopped sucking your dick, edging and teasing you. The girl gets off your lap but only to remove her own shorts, revealing the lack of underwear underneath. She once again straddles your lap this time with her naked vagina lips lined up above your cock. She slowly lowers herself down, allowing some adjustment this time as you lustfully buck your hips upwards trying to bury your hilt further and further. She continues sinking down until your penis is fully inserted at which point she starts bouncing up and down on top of you. During this, the girl starts massaging her own breasts and adjusts her previously-formed ponytails, unsure where to put her hands. Seeing this, you push your back up slightly, grab hold of the ponytails yourself and pull her down towards you as you engage in another chaotic makeout session. This elicits a cute giggle from the girl on her way down as she continues riding you and you try to match the rhythm by bucking your own hips upwards, pushing as deep as possible. You match her tempo perfectly and she has to stop kissing you to moan right into your ear. You were already close from the edging earlier and that moan just about pushed you over the edge. You tapped the girl's back and she seemed to instantly catch on to what you meant as she got up off of you. You were expecting her to kneel down and keep jerking you but instead she rolled you off your own towel and lay down in your place and whispered two words that you could not have been happier to hear. "Paint me" You stood up and jerked your cock as the beautiful girl you had just randomly met on your day off lay below you with no bottoms on and waiting for you to cum on her. It didn't take much as you sprayed white streaks of cum, initially, on those succulent abs that you had watched her rub sun cream into earlier before working your way up to her face and neck. The girl smiled the whole way through as she sat up with your cum starting to run down her nose and lips. She thanks you as she rubs the cum into her abs as if it was sun cream. She allows the cum on her face to stay there as she redresses herself with the discarded clothes. You stand there in disbelief at whatever has just happened. The girl goes back to her bags and fiddles around with something for a bit before coming back over to you. She walks straight past before giving you a love tap on your naked ass before telling you to pull your shorts back up and then just leaves. You quickly restore your dignity, not wishing to be caught naked by some stranger. Although, thinking about what just happened with that girl, maybe it wouldn't be a such a bad interaction. As you go back to relax on your towel and gather your scrambled thoughts you feel a piece of paper in the pocket of your shorts. "Thanks for the cum, stranger. Much better than sun cream ;) Thinking about going camping soon, hmu (0XX-XXX-XXXX) Seoyeon" There was a cute little panda face scribbled at the bottom of the note and you put it back in your pocket, making a mental note to call that number later on. Mondays sucked a whole lot less now...

-

Thank you for reading, any feedback welcome. Wrote it quickly just because I had a rush of inspiration really. 

[inadaydream99]

You’re Over Me?

Inspired by “You’re over me? When were you under me?” from the Friends episode ‘The One with the Jellyfish.’

Stray Kids Lee Know/ Minho.

A/N - Welcome to the first part of my Stray Kids oneshot series inspired by Friends! I have tried to not follow the scene from friends completely, just so it’s not exactly the same as the show, just inspired by. I really hope you enjoy! Also, I got a little carried away with this oneshot 😂

Disclaimer: mentions of accessive drinking/alcohol

You wake up to your alarm going off, whining as you hit snooze before defeatedly flopping back into bed. Why’d you have to stay out drinking so late the previous night? You knew it wouldn’t end well and you’d feel ill the next day.

Your head is throbbing, mind groggy as you finally force yourself to sit up, taking a moment for your eyes to adjust to the daylight seeping in through the gap between your curtains.

You don’t remeber much from the night before, apart from arriving at the bar with your friends and the first few rounds of drinks. After that it’s pretty hazy.

The only reason you’d gotten so drunk was to drown out your heartache. When Stray Kids had returned from tour a month ago, you were so excited to finally have your friends back. But that was until you received the news that Minho had started seeing someone.

You’d found out the day the guys left for tour that Minho was in love with you. Initially you were shocked, but then you realised that you’d fallen for him too. So you’d spent the whole time they were away eagerly waiting for him to come back so you could tell him how you felt.

That was until Seungmin told you that he’d started seeing another girl. You were too late.

You almost jump out of your skin when you hear a sudden knocking on your bedroom door, watching as it slowly creeks open and Minho’s head pokes through the gap.

“You’re awake...” He smiles, swinging the door open properly before walking over to your bed as soon as he sees your grumpy expression.

“Unfortunately.” You mumble, reaching over to the glass of water on your bedside table and chugging it down quickly.

“How was last night.” Minho questions, sitting on the edge of your bed.

“I don’t really remeber much, but I think it was ok?” You half heartedly respond. “How was your date?” You ask, not really wanting to find out the answer.

“Actually, I had a really great time.” You can tell he’s downplaying how he feels because he cautiously looks at you while he answers. Anyone would think he still has feelings for you, but you know he doesn’t...

Of course, Minho doesn’t know how you feel about him. You two don’t generally talk about your love lives to each other, so it always feels a little strange on the rare occasions you do. Hence the awkwardness that settles between you.

“Great.” You mutter, trying to hide the sarcasm in your voice. “So what are you doing here anyway?” You quickly try to move on the topic, curious as to why you’ve woken up to him in your apartment.

“I left my keys here, luckily the guys were awake and let me in at the dorms, otherwise I would have been locked out all night.” You nod in understanding, feeling your heart flutter when Minho chuckles. “I used your spare key to get in.” He adds as an afterthought, though you had already made that assumption anyway.

“That is lucky.” You softly comment, subtly admiring his bright smile as he laughs. It hurts to think that you’re not the reason for his cheerful mood and that it was probably his date. But what can you really do about that now...

~

“So he had one good date, it doesn’t mean he’s taken.” Felix tries to make you feel better. You’d been filling him in on the events of last night and wallowing in your sadness over having to see Minho fall in love with someone other than you.

“But it definitely counts for something.” You sigh, staring down at the coffee in front of you, stirring it with your spoon endlessly in hopes of it providing an element of distraction.

“You know what, I’m done seeing you all mopey like this.” Felix suddenly states after a moment of silence. He’s had enough of watching you act like it’s the end of the world, so he’s gonna do something about it. “You need to get over him and move on.” He continues, placing his hands firmly on the table as he stands up.

This grabs your attention, your eyes peaking up from prue intrigue, though you don’t make any effort to wipe the pout off your face or remove your hand from resting under your chin.

“How’re we gonna do that?” You sarcastically retort, rolling your eyes as you moodily reject the idea of being able to get over Minho so suddenly.

“We’re gonna get you some closure.” Felix confidently states, feeling proud of himself as he smiles down at you triumphantly. “And in order to do that, we need to distract you.”

A meek smile grows on your face as you stare back up at him. His determination sure is adorable and it makes you start to believe that maybe he is right. Maybe you can get closure.

~

Your evening was set out. Felix had gone to the trouble of getting everyone together for a fun night of games.

Well, everyone except for Minho.

You’d arrived expecting to see eight of your friends ready to have a great night together. But instead, you turn up to find Minho leaving.

Seeing him all dressed up, you know straight away that he’s going on another date and instantly it makes your heart sink.

“He’s gone on another date hasn’t he.” You whisper to Felix who simply nods his head in return, shooting you a sympathetic glance. Having your suspicions confirmed your shoulders slump, posture deflated as you sit on the floor while the first game is set up. So much for finding a distraction.

It’s about two hours into the games night now and you’re still a sulky mess. It’s seems that everyone has also caught onto your mood, as you are normally very competitive. But, right now, you don’t even care about winning. All night you’ve put in a halfassed effort. You didn’t even throw a tantrum when you lost at Uno and had to pick up ten cards when you only had one left.

“Come on (Y/N), you need to stop thinking about him.” Felix approaches you after you excused yourself to get another drink.

You’d began pacing yourself with how much alcohol you were going to consume. But it’s getting to the point where it’s starting to have its impacts on your system and you’re gradually drinking more and more as time goes on. Everything is becoming hazier and you feel more at ease. It’s the best way for you to temporarily drown out your sadness.

You’re not even properly listening to Felix as he makes an attempt to comfort you. All you can think about is his words from earlier that echo in your head, “you need closure.”.

“Closure!” You blurt randomly, making Felix jump a little. “How do I get closure?” You turn to him, waiting eagerly for an answer.

“Um... I don’t know.” He replies after taking a moment to think.

“You could just call him and tell him you’re over him?” Jisung shrugs, adding his thoughts into the conversation casually. You both turn to look at him, not having realised that he’d even entered the room. “You are meaning Minho right?” He adds when you both fail to give any reaction, his eyes darling between you.

“How’d you even know what we’re talking about?” Felix questions, feeling just as confused as you are, though you are a little tipsy and so don’t really care that Jisung knows.

“It’s obvious.” Jisung brushes off the question, snaking around you to pour himself another drink.

“I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna call him.” You assertively state, both guys attention firmly back on you now.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Felix tries to reason with you. As the more sober one out of the two of you, he feels the need to make you evaluate your choices before you go through with them.

“Absolutely.” You nod, high-fiving Jisung when he excitedly encourages you, happy that you’d listened to his advice.

~

The next morning you wake to a commotion coming from the kitchen. You had crashed on the sofa last night, it being too late and you being too drunk to go home.

“What’s going on in here?” You groggily question, barely able to open your eyes properly as you drag yourself into the kitchen.

“I opened the cupboard and a load of plates almost fell out on me.” Minho answers whilst struggling to gently place all the plates that he had caugh onto the counter. “How was last night with the guys?” He turns to face you, sending you a soft smile.

“There was a lot of alcohol and games.” You chuckle, scratching your head before realising how messy your hair is and trying to tidy it up a little. “How was your second date?” You counteract, wanting to know the details even though it hurts. It really does feel like deja vu and yet, although you’ve been through a similar situation before, the sting in your chest doesn’t hurt any less.

“I had a really great time, we get on really well, you know? Like we just click.” Minho beams. He seems genuinely happy, which conflicts your emotions. One part of you is happy, because you only want what’s best for him, but the other part is devistated. “Do you mind if I just check my messages, I left my phone here last night so I haven’t had the chance yet.” Minho excuses himself.

“Not at all, go ahead.” You respond through a yawn, bashfully waving your hand at him as you’re still half asleep. You feel like there’s something you are meant to remeber but you can’t put your finger on it. Something that happened last night... and you wreck your brain as you trudge back towards the sofa.

“Oh, (Y/N). It says I’ve got a voicemail from you.” Minho calls out to you. That’s when you finally wake up, your eyes growing wide in fear as you spin around and launch yourself across the room towards Minho.

“Minho, no!” You shout. But it’s too late, he’s already listening to the message you left him while in your drunken state.

“You’re over me?” His face falls, looking deflated as you repeatedly whisper “no, no, no, no.” to yourself.

“This can’t be happening.” You faceplam into your hands in distress.

“You’re over me? When were you under me?” Minho more so talks to himself rather than to you. When he finally turns to look at you, he sees you already staring back at him, looking mortified.

“It’s not what you think!” You cry, tears welling up in your eyes.

“You had feelings for me?” Minho’s question comes out as more of a realisation. You aren’t even sure if he can hear you, he’s completely spaced out. “When?” He zones back into reality a second later, pressing for more answers when he sees you nod in response to his previous question.

“When you left for tour.” You squeak, your throat feeling tight from trying to hold back your tears.

“For that long? And you never told me?” Minho takes a step towards you, his tone conveying his anger. And although it seems like he is mad at you on the outside, he’s really mad at himself for not noticing sooner.

“How could I? You’d just met someone else and you seemed really happy, I didn’t want to ruin that for you.” You explain, defending the reason for keeping your feelings a secret, though it comes across more like you are pleaing at him.

“So you’re just suddenly over me?” He questions, not seeming so enraged now. Confusion has clouded Minho’s mind as he processes all the information.

“Well, what else was I meant to do?” You stare up at him innocently.

“Tell me how you feel!” Minho exclaims a little harsher than what he intended to. He instantly backtracks when he sees you flinch at the volume of his voice. “(Y/N) I’ve been in love with you for so long, I would have picked you over anyone.” He softens his voice, becoming quieter and more gentle as he reaches out his hand to take yours.

You look down as your fingers intertwine together before you feel his other hand under your chin, drawing your gaze back to meet his.

“Really?” You gush, captivated by the intense affection that’s pouring out of him. This has to be a dream...

“Of course.” He whispers. “So, are you really over me?” He asks again, though this time you can see the hope behind his eyes and the nervousness in his chest as he bites down on his bottom lip in anticipation.

“No...” you fail to hide the shy smile that breaks out across your lips. Your gaze darting to look away briefly before flicking back up to Minho when you hear him let out a chuckle in relief.

“Good, because I have no idea what I would have done if you’d said you had.” He elatedly smiles, drawing you closer in his arms as they settle around your waist.

You can feel a warmth in your chest as you stare into each other’s eyes, foreheads resting together and lips inches apart.

Letting out a deep, contented sigh as your eyes flutter shut, you know that this is home. In Minho’s arms. That this is how it was always meant to be.

[miss-tc-nova]

Shared Ailments - Sora x Reader

Okay, I could probably do this better, but I’m brain dead and got other things to do. I was inspired to write something after listening to Yuukei Yesterday but figured the best fit was Sora, which I don’t normally write for but tada! Enjoy. 

Music Inspiration: Yuukei Yesterday cover by Jubyhonic

~~~~~

              The sun beats down on the defenseless, little Destiny Islands. Citizens are subject to the glaring sunrays but have come to adapt to their harsh heat. I’ve only been here a few years and even I’ve become somewhat accustom to the tropical temperature but I will blatantly state that I detest the sunlight: it’s blinding and burning and ruthless. I’d rather spend my time inside, perfectly content in my own company.

              Today offers no relief from the typical threat of sunburn. I only just left school and my body is already starting to feel sticky with sweat. My feet swiftly carry me down the sidewalk towards my home, eager to get someplace cool.

              Just as I round a corner, something heavy slams into me. The force throws me to the ground before subsequently squishing me. Pain grates across my arm but I can’t even gripe about it because my winded lungs are busy with a coughing fit.

              “Sorry! Are you okay?!”

              Still hacking away, I open my eyes to see the brightest blue eyes I’ve ever seen. Despite his concern, the brunette doesn’t seem to think his full weight on top of me is a problem and the proximity sends fire surging up my spine.

              “Sora! Get off!” someone else demands.

              “Right! Sorry! Let me help you!”

              Relieving me from his mass, the boy hops up. He not-so-carefully takes my arm and pulls me off the ground. Hissing at the sting, I immediately rip out of his grasp. It’s not gushing, but the concrete certainly shredded my skin.

              “Look what you did,” a third voice scolds, the girl standing behind him.

              In this trio, I only know of Riku—he’s my neighbor. However, since I moved here a few years ago, I’ve only seen these three in passing; they seem to disappear for months, sometimes years, at a time before randomly showing back up. I’ve run into Riku a few times, but we didn’t really interact which was fine by me. From what I have seen of his personality, it seemed he wouldn’t be a bother at all, unlike the brunette: Sora.

              Sora apologizes again. “I’m sorry. Here, let me help.”

              I flinch away from him. “Get away from me!”

              “I can help!”

              “I don’t need your help,” I spit. “I need you to get away from me.”

              “But I can fix it!” Somehow, those big blue eyes get even bigger and something about that look disconnects my brain from my mouth. “Please?”

              Whatever he’s done to destroy my defense prevents a response, which brings a giddy grin to his face. The next thing I know, I’m being dragged in a different direction. The entire time, Sora radiates happiness like the sun even though his plans are now to help someone he injured.

              I’m still a little hazy on what happened from there. We ended up at Sora’s house, sitting around his living room. I thought he was going to get a first aid kit or something, but he just held my arm. I would’ve jerked away, except a gentle glow seeped from beneath his fingers, distracting me long enough to lull me back into the tedious discussion. When he finally let go, my jaw dropped. There was nothing left behind—no scrape, no scabs, nothing but unmarred skin. It had me stunned and questioning the normalcy of these people, especially Sora. He was able to overcome every habit cultivated to maintain my peace and privacy. I don’t know if it had to do with the stuff he used on my arm—or if that light was some sort of virus or something—but my sharp tongue could not get through his lightheartedness. Still, I was desperate for an escape so I dropped it and left, briefly mentioning that I hoped to never run into him again.

              But I did.

              Somehow, Riku conned me into hanging out with him—what he failed to mention was that Sora and Kairi would be joining us. I figured it was worth my while to be on neighborly terms with the guy next door, whether it be for favors, friendship, or emergencies, so I thought there wouldn’t be any trouble. Well, trouble was his middle name and he showed up just five minutes after I did.

              Unfortunately, that one accepted hang out apparently gave them the okay to bring me along on all their random shenanigans. They would ambush me after school or even straight up kidnap me from my front door. They were harmless inconveniences, so I endured them, but they repeatedly ignored my every attempt to sneak away or shut down another get together. Nothing I did stopped them from showing up later to abduct me again.

              Admittedly, Riku and Kairi are nice people that I could get along with pretty easily. Sora—Sora is like the sun; he’s so much for one introvert to deal with. He’s so peppy and energetic, even when he’s being lazy. Sure, that’s not necessarily a bad thing, but I just can’t deal with that for so long.

              To add to the exhaustion, every time I see that guy it’s like my body is trying to shut down. My heart shudders while I start to overheat and I can’t think straight. Sometimes I can barely get a word out, let alone against him. He must be using more of that weird magic or something to make me sick. I’ve considered talking to the other two about it, but as soon as Sora’s gone, I’m fine so I haven’t pressed for any answers yet.

              Today is Saturday. I’ve been holed up inside since I woke up, expecting to have the perfect, peaceful day. All my homework is already done, I don’t have any chores except for making food, and I’ve already collected everything I need to enjoy my free day. I’ve been looking forward to this all week.

              There’s a knock at the door. I don’t like that knock; I wasn’t expecting anyone today. For a moment, I simply stare at the door, contemplating whether or not I should answer it.

              What if it’s an emergency?

              A hand slaps against my forehead for such a stupid thought; now I can’t just let it go. Grumbling, I stalk towards the door to see who’s intruding on my respite.

              Immediately, I’m greeted with his beaming face. “Morning!”

              The door slams shut.

              Fuck.

              In that short second, my heart stopped and I can feel the blood rushing to my ears.

              “Ah c’mon!” he calls. “You didn’t even hear what we wanted!”

              “I don’t care what you want!” I shout, thankful I’m not arguing face-to-face with him or I’d never win. “Go away!”

              “We know you’re not doing anything today,” Kairi says.

              “Exactly! Nothing! And you can’t make me!”

              Riku’s with them. “C’mon. We need your help.”

              “No!”

              I find it suspicious when there’s a delay in their coercion but all hope of them abandoning their harassment is lost when I hear Sora’s voice faint on the other side.

              “Really? You think that’ll work?”

              I press my ear to the door.

              “Of course,” Kairi replies; there’s something in her tone that sends shivers down my spine.

              Riku’s got that same note in his voice. “Do you want them to come or not?”

              “Yeah, but they already said no.” The brunette is the odd-man-out, sounding more confused than anything.

              “Just do it,” orders the girl.

              Sora sighs. This time, loud enough that it must be intended for me, he begs, “Please?”

              It must be some magic spell because, without first consulting my brain, my arm reaches out to tear the door open. Sora seems just as surprised as I feel, however, when I realize what’s happened, I throw a glare to the smirking cohorts behind him.

              “What do you want?” I snap, grateful that this unforeseen circumstance hasn’t yet destroyed my conscience.

              This is where it starts to deteriorate. With all that sunshine back in full force, Sora says, “We’re gonna do some repairs on the stuff on the other island and we wanted to know if you’d help. You don’t have to do any of the hard stuff.”

              A hand over my eyes feigns frustration; in reality, it’s there to shield me from his cheeriness.

              “I just wanted to relax and be lazy today,” I groan.

              Somehow, Kairi shimmies past me to nudge me out the door. “You can relax while you keep us company.”

              “Uh, hey!”

              She drops a pair of my shoes at my feet and closes my front door.

              “And hold the nails,” Riku insists, pushing a bucket of metal into my hands.

              “I hate all of you,” I growl as the pair continues ushering me out of my yard.

              Sora jumps ahead, looking back at me joyfully. “It’s gonna be fun. But thanks for coming; we really appreciate it.”

              That happy face—those dazzling eyes, that beautiful smile—is the spell he holds over me; it eradicates all coherent thoughts and causes my stomach to squirm.

              Unable to lash out, I drop my gaze. “It’s fine.”

              So my plans are effectively destroyed. Once we arrive, the trio gets to work just as they said, fixing up some of the old structures scattered about the place—just a few worn planks here and there. We chatter along as the work goes by and I diligently do my job of providing nails. It’s hot and I’d still prefer to be at home right now, but it’s not the worst Saturday of my life.

              I’m not exactly sure when, but Riku and Kairi abandon Sora and I on the bridge in favor of the docks. Riku took with him a handful of nails, essentially condemning me to alone time with Sora. So I sit around, passing nails out, while he attempts to talk my ear off. And no matter what quips or insults I throw at him, he just goes on as if I hadn’t said anything. It’s like he’s impervious—or deaf. Still, no matter how many times I tell him to shut up, I can’t block out a single thing he says. He’s got my undivided attention whether I want to give it or not.

              He beats on the board with his hammer. “But I gotta say, being a pirate was more fun than being a mermaid…man…merman?”

              Exasperated, I reply, “Sora, if you’re gonna lie to me, you could at least make it believable.”

              “But I’m not lying,” he says with a childish pout.

              I pass another nail into his open palm. “Really? Pirates? Mermaids? Monsters?! There’s no way you turned into all these crazy things.”

              “I did!” he insists, lining the nail. “But you can’t tell anyone.”

              “And have them think I’m crazy too? No thanks,” I snark, looking away. Curiosity gets the better of me. “But why not?”

              “It’s this whole crazy world order thing. We’re not supposed to tell people about other worlds or it might freak ‘em out,” he casually says as he works.

              “Then why did you tell me?”

              Ocean eyes lift to ensnare my heart. With a smile more blinding than the sun, he answers, “Because you seem like someone I can trust.”

              That’s it: I’m done. Panic takes over while I fight the urge to vomit beneath this woozy feeling. That inexplicable fever begins to run rampant again.

              Sora’s high spirits falter. “Are you okay?”

              Dropping the bucket, I stand and blurt out, “I’mgoinghome.”

              “What?”

              “I can’t do this anymore!” I start for the hut, only for a hand to take my wrist.

              “Hey, what’s wrong?”

              “Don’t touch me!” I snap, ripping my arm away. The trepidation prevents me from answering his reasonable questions.

              “Wha…Did I say something?”

              There is no rational answer. “Leave me alone!”

              He slips around to block my path, that worry on his face aggravating my ailment. “Are you okay?”

              “Get out of my way!” I demand, my heart thumping so violently I’m sure even he can hear it. “I’m going home!”

              “But, why?”

              “BECAUSE OF YOU!”

              The second I realize what I’ve said, my hand slaps over my mouth. Sora’s surprise turns to horror and hurt. All the disorders in me disappear, replaced with utter dread—I royally screwed up.

              “Because…of me?”

              The words stockpile in my mouth, random ones falling out. “I-I…you…I can’t…”

              “Are you mad at me?” This is the first time Sora has ever taken anything I’ve said to heart. His heartbroken voice and kicked-puppy expression cause a vice in my chest.

              “N-No! I just…”

              “What did I do wrong?”

              “I DON’T KNOW!” I shout. “I don’t know what you did but every time you’re around I can’t function! I’m burning up! I always feel like I’m gonna puke! My brain doesn’t work right and I say stupid things! It feels like someone’s squeezing my heart! I don’t know what you’re doing but it’s freaking me out!”

              The sadness I instilled in Sora melts but gives me no comfort. It turns into some sort of revelation.

              “You feel it too?”

              I hesitate. “What?”

              Looking away, he scratches at the back of his head. “Every time I’m near you, I feel kinda sick, like I’m gonna throw up. I feel warmer, I always forget what I’m doing, and I know I talk a lot but, with you, I can’t stop talking—I even tell you things I shouldn’t. Mostly, it feels like my heart’s gonna burst. I really thought I was crazy or something but if you feel it too, maybe I’m not.”

              All I can do is stare; he describes it differently, but the basics seem to be there: fever, mild nausea, brain failure, stupid mouth, and a bewildering heart. I would almost consider this some minor illness, but I can’t think of a single illness that muddles thoughts and runs a mouth the way I have.

              “But you know,” Sora adds, “it’s also hard to stop staring when I’m with you. And…I can’t stop smiling.” Those are different but I still can’t make sense of any of it. On the other hand, for Sora, it seems like he’s following some train of thought. “It’s actually not that bad. I like seeing you and I like talking to you, even when you nag me. I really like hanging out with you.”

              He’s reached an epiphany, the light in his head shining in his eyes.

              So happy, yet so gentle, Sora says, “I like you.”

              “You…like me?” I whisper, trying to wrap my head around his diagnosis. “You feel it too…and you like me?”

              “Yeah.”

              The concept rolls in my conscience, taking in each symptom and carefully fitting it against Sora’s conclusion. They all align perfectly. Somehow, someway, I fell for this dork of a man and was just too much of a coward to confront it.

              “Oh no,” I complain, hiding behind my fingers. “I’m such an idiot.”

              “What’s wrong?” His concern is back.

              Looking him in the eye was difficult to being with; it’s damn near unbearable now. The sun is no match against the blood in my veins. Arms wrap around me to contain the anxiety building inside. It feels like an eternity before I manage to voice my problem.

              “I…like you too.”

              The sunshine that he radiates feels different. There’s nothing different about it by any means, but it represents something different now. It’s not the burning, overbearing brightness that I’ve been trying to avoid; it’s warm and welcoming. It’s still uncomfortable as hell, I still want to vomit, but with a tweak of perspective, it’s tolerable—maybe even enjoyable.

              “You do?” he asks hopefully.

              I can’t recall having ever smiled like this. “Yeah.”

              Sora’s expression blanks, a cherry red blooming across his face.

              “Sora?”

              Without warning, he grips my shoulders and pulls me into a tight embrace.

              “You have the most amazing smile,” he murmurs.

              My heart skips and I might be on fire but I don’t want to run away this time. So I slip my arms around his neck and hide my face in his shoulder.

              “You goof,” I hum into his shirt.

              Then I see them, across the sand, sitting on the docks, with the smuggest grins on their faces. The thought strikes me like a bolt of lightning—they knew. Those two assholes knew everything this entire time and planned this whole thing. As I glare, a pair of fingers wave at them behind the brunette’s back, receiving sneaky snickers in response.

              Sora leans back. “You okay?”

              I put on a quick smile—he doesn’t need to know. “I’m great.”

              A quick peck ambushes my cheek, reigniting the flustering awkwardness.

              “Yeah you are.”

~~~~~

Nova’s Kingdom Hearts Masterlist