#sometimes i'll just be sitting here and it hits me all over again

[gay-dorito-dust]

… maybe bob with a reader who also has mental illness? And has low self esteem also. :3…. not super fluffy but it can become fluffo

'why do you like me?' you asked Bob after having not been in the best mindset for the past couple of days, it had hit you out of nowhere, but it was still enough to have you sitting within your room with the curtains drawn and burrowed in your own multitude of blankets as you let your own void consume you.

Bob was suprised to hear you say such a thing, he was always the one to ask you why you liked him, so seeing you look at him with such hopelessness and saddness only made his heart ache as he didn't hesitate to take a seat next to you and grabbing ahold of your hand. He didn't like seeing you like this but knew -that just like him- you had your down days as well as your best ones and he was going to be the grounding force you needed however he could, whether it be just sitting here and holding your hand as the day passes you by or otherwise then he'll do it a thousand times over just for you.

'How could i not?' Bob begins softly, 'you are the kindest person i've ever met and the most genuine soul that never felt the need change for anybody and remain to your truest self, the one person who always managed to keep their head held high when the situation seemed bleak.' He kisses the side of your head and allowing you to rest you head against his shoulder, allowing him to be your light within this dark moment of yours, much like you have been for him in his. 'The strongest person that never once gave up when the going gets tough, yet sometimes forget that you're human and not every day is going to be a good one.' he finishes as you look at him through your eyelashes.

'what if i can't get out of this...emptiness? what if i just accept that most battles are too hard to win and think i'm deserving of being forgotten and or left behind like i'm not worth the trouble of comforting?' You were just saying the things that had been within your mind for a longwhile now, things that you knew you'd never you would never get an acceptable awnser for even if it was a believible one, you'll still always have that lingering doubt within the back of your mind that they were just saying it for the sake of saying something that sounded plausable...for a while until you get like this again.

So you wondered how long it would take until Bob grew bored of reassuring you, of getting ride of the sour thoughts that plauge your mind all too frequently nowadays, of having to hold your hand when the darkness clouded any sembelence of light from passing through. However what you weren't willing to see in your current state of mind was that Bob would in fact gladly reassure you as many times as you needed, chase away the sour thoughts time and time again until you were ready to come out of your room, hold your hand and guide you through the darkness until he could effortlessly do so with his eyes closed.

He didn't like the idea of leaving you alone with your thoughts, especially not when they were making you second guess eveything about yourself, not when you were within a room devoid of leeting any light in, allowing the worst of your thoughts to be let in without warning and stay to fester; up until all you could think about was the supposed worst traits you possesed and how you didn't think you were worth any ounce of attention. So Bob was more then willing to be stubborn and stern with you, even if it meant getting through your head that you were more then worth every ounce of attention and support given, that you were worth going back for ten times out of ten.

'i won't let you.' Bob replied frowning. 'i won't let you becuase i'll stay here with you as long as it takes, as long as you need until you do feel wanted and seen becuase you didn't leave me with my mind when i wanted you to, you stayed with me until the early morning looking tired as hell but happy that i finally stepped out of the shadows.' He tucks you futher into his side, his body guarding you from the dark of your own room as though he was the only one who could keep you safe from it all, keep you protected from the worst yet to come and within his arms you felt the safest you've ever had in a long time. 'So why would i ever leave you to face your battle alone?' Bob asks.

You shrugged, geuninly at a loss on how to awnser him, but far too content within his arms to move away from the warmth he emitted. 'i'm not worth all of this Bob, i'm not worth your efforts but yet you still stay here as though there is nowhere esle you wanted to be-'

'There is nowhere i want to be other then right here, with you. i won't let you think any diffrently about yourself, out of anyone in the Watchtower i can't think of anyone but you to spend my days with, no matter if we're sat like this or doing the dishes together.' Bob cuts you off, looking at you with those sofe blue eyes that you swore could see into your soul and thensome. 'As long as i'm with you my day could never be wasted at all, i want to be with you on your worst days as well as your best days, all you've got to do is let me in instead of shutting me out.' He finishes earnestly, holding you closer to him as you burrow your face into his neck, your hands were gripping the back of his sweater as though you were scared to let go of Bob in fear that he'd dissapear.

Bob noticed how tightly you were gripping onto him and began rubbing your back with his large hands in soothing motion. 'i'm here. i'm not going anywhere, not without you, never without you okay?' he says and hears you hum in agreement as you made yourself comfortable against him, even offering your blanket to cover him somewhat before finding yourself inable to fight off the need for sleep, and Bob rubbing your back didn't make matters better either as you were esscencially lulled into drifting off; the scent of vanilla or perhaps chamomile and new books invading your senses as you murmurered agaisnst his skin. 'Thank you for not giving up on me.'

'never.' Bob whipsered back, leaning back against the wall for some brief shut eye, all the while making sure you stayed close to him as his back caresses soon slowed and came to a still, finding their resting place at your waist that he'd occasionally grip as though trying to tell you he was there in some sort of morse code that he'd hope would reach you in your dreams where he would be too; only for him to fall asleep completely soon after.

bonus;

Later that day Yelena, Ava, John and Alexei were walking through the hallway, wondering where you and Bob were, only to come across your slightly ajar door where Yelena peaked inside and smiling upon seeing you and Bob cuddled up tightly together asleep on the floor. 'i found our little lovebirds.' She says to the rest of the group as they too poked their heads inside soon afterwards, similar smiles plastering across their faces.

'That doesn't look pratical.' Ava said as she notes your sleeping possitons, knowing that both of you will wake up complaining about your aching necks, but she couldn't help but find you both adorable in this situation.

'At least we don't need to send a search party for them both now.' John says, wincing when Alexei claps him on the shoulder, wiping away a tear that had fallen from his eyes.

'Bob is protecting his love even in his sleep, how valient of him.' He adds as Yelena and the group decided to make boht of your situations a little more comfortable for you both. Yelena and Ava would put pillows behind your's and Bob's head, Alexei would shift you both slightly into more suitable positions for you both, and finally John would adjust the blankets so they would cover you both properly with the intent on keeping you and Bob warm and safe.

The group, once satisfied with their work, left you both be and shut the door behind them as they did in order to give you both the rest and privacy you both nedded.

[lynnaredfield3383]

Soon

Warnings: Swearing, hugging, jealousy

The pain vibrating through his body was damn near unbearable. Yet, he'd managed to get himself home and onto the couch.

Adjusting his position on the couch, he winced a sharp pain moving through his tweaked left shoulder.

He winced again when he heard the front door open. He knew he was in much more trouble than when that villain kicked his ass earlier.

"Are you fucking kidding me, Dynamight? No call for backup, no medical treatment. I should rip your head off...Holy shit, Denks wasn't lying. You're messed up," your voice softened when you saw the state of him.

"No shit. What the hell are you here for?" Bakugo snapped back.

You sat beside him on the couch, gently checking his arm.

"Save the barking for someone else, Bakugo. Hold still, okay?"

Bakugo tried to jerk away from your touch but let out a string of low curses as the pain shot through him again.

"I didn't ask for your damn help! Get out."

"Bakugo, please...Just let me heal your worst injuries."

Bakugo glanced over at you, glassy eyes as he bit his bottom lip.

"I don't want your shitty hands on me. So get the fuck out."

You let out a sigh, sitting back against the arm of the couch. You wanted to give him room, and hopefully, his rational side would kick in.

"You are allowed to hate me, but don't be stupid about letting me heal you. Seriously, I'll leave as soon as I'm done."

Bakugo chewed on his bottom lip, thoughts running through his head. It was a pride thing, and you both knew it.

"Fine. Just make it quick because I don't want those shitty hands on me longer than necessary."

"Okay. Hold still."

You placed your hands on his tweaked arm first, then moved to his leg. Bakugo kept his eyes closed the entire time.

"Done yet?" Bakugo finally snapped.

"You're having trouble breathing. Can I touch your chest?"

"No. Leave."

"Alright. See ya at the agency."

You got up and started out of the living room, making it to the doorway before Bakugo spoke up.

"Why am I not good enough?"

"What?"

You looked back to see him run a hand a through his hair.

"You hug and touch everyone else at the agency. Like you can't get enough, but you avoid me. Why?"

It hit you like an anvil in one of those old cartoons. All the "shitty" hand comments or calling you a clingy loser.

"You never seem comfortable with that stuff. Kiri and Denki are..."

"You've never even tried, though. Not once!"

You moved back to the couch standing over him. Wondering why he was saying this now.

"Because I didn't want you to hate me or maybe even blow me up."

"Tch. Idiot." Bakugo clicked his tongue and growled.

"Okay, if you want a damn hug, stand up. Not dealing with your pouty ass."

Bakugo tugged you down onto his lap, surprising you. He buried his face against your shoulder, his arms around your waist. Being this close to him made your heart slam against your ribcage.

"Not pouty," Bakugo mumbled.

"Sure, boss."

"Not your boss."

You gave him another minute before you tried to stand up.

"Bakugo, I need to get back to Kiri and help with the paperwork."

"No. Stay."

You let out a sigh and wrapped your arms around his neck. Bakugo was a spoiled brat sometimes, so you knew it was less of a headache to give him his way.

Bakugo was at complete peace with you in his arms. Maybe not tonight, but soon he'd tell you how he felt. Just so he was the only one you'd hug and be clingy with. Soon.

[kiitkattie]

one of the reasons atla has stuck with me for so long is that in the final battle between azula and zuko, its not treated like an epic battle. there's no uplifting music behind it that most final battles have. its not a score of "finally our hero is defeating the villain", its more somber

its treated like the tragedy that it is

[spcherryygirl]

like real people do !

jason todd didn't like feeling weak. not physically, not emotionally, not in any way. he was red hood, the second robin, the guy who crawled his way out of the grave, the guy who made criminals run the second they saw him. he wasn't fragile.

at least, that's what he told himself.

but you knew better.

you saw the way his hands shook sometimes, how he clenched his jaw so tight it looked like it hurt. how he acted like he was fine, always fine, even when he was bleeding right in front of you.

like tonight.

he got hit▰bullet to the side, not deep enough to be life threatening, but deep enough that he couldn't just ignore it. he tried to, though.

"i don’t need help," he muttered, struggling to take off his jacket without wincing.

"jason, you’re literally bleeding on my floor."

"i’ve had worse."

"that’s not the point." you crossed your arms. "sit down. let me fix it."

he sighed like you were asking him to do something absurd, but he sat. that alone told you everything.

you came back, first aid kit in hand & went to work on the wound while he sat there, way too tense.

“you don't have to do this," he muttered.

"i know."

his jaw tightened, but he didn't move away. you stitched him up carefully, your fingers brushing against his skin, & he hardly moved.

"you're not a burden, you know," you said after a minute.

he scoffed. "never said i was."

"you don't have to. i see it every time you push me away." you paused, looking up at him. "you don't have to be strong all the time, jason."

his eyes flickered. something in him hesitated, but he didn't let it break through.

"i hate this," he muttered.

"hate what?"

"feeling like this." he motioned at himself, at the bandages, at you sitting next to him. "weak."

you frowned. "jason, you're not weak."

"doesn't feel like it."

your chest felt tight. you reached for his hand, & he let you, just like he always did. but this time, it's different. that it's not just jason who you're holding, but the red hood as well.

"being strong doesn't mean doing everything alone," you said quietly. "sometimes it means letting people help."

he swallowed, his fingers twitching around yours. you’d held hands before, curled up on the couch, laced fingers absentmindedly.

but this was different. this was him holding on like he needed to.

& then, barely above a whisper, he said, "i don’t wanna do this alone."

you squeezed his hand. "you don’t have to."

he let out a shaky breath, nodded, & for the first time, he didn't just let you help▰he let himself believe he needed it. he let himself accept the fact that he indeed, needs it.

you finally got him into bed, though he agrued about not being tired. but the second his head hit the pillow, you could tell▰he was exhausted.

yet, he didn't sleep.

he just laid there, staring at the ceiling, breathing too controlled, too careful.

"you're thinking too much," you whispered, running your fingers through his hair.

he huffed. "i don't think that's possible."

you smiled. "wanna bet?"

he rolled onto his side, looking at you, with an unreadable expression. "what if i wake up in a panic again?"

"then i'll be here."

his brows furrowed. "you shouldn't have to deal with that."

"jason." you stroked your thumb over his cheek, soft(is what you thought when your hand came in contact with his soft cheek, & is what jason thought when his cheek came in contact with your soft hand.)

"loving you doesn't mean only staying for the easy parts. i want to be here. always."

he breathed slowly, like he was struggling to let himself believe you. maybe it would take time. but right now, he was here, letting you hold him, & that was enough.

he brought you closer still, his hand lying flat upon your waist, fingers just tight enough on the shirt to cling. "you're too good for me," he murmured against your skin.

"& you're an idiot," you whisper back.

a soft laugh rolled from him & lay warm across your collarbone. he drew a breath at last, uncoiling finally, his fingers tracing slow patterns on your back.

"thanks," he mutters after a while.

"for what?"

"for this. for staying."

you pressed a kiss to his forehead, holding him a little tighter. "like i said: always."

& this time, he let himself believe it.

© minorlyatfault, 2025

[kilojulietsierra]

So, now what? (Dr Abbot x Reader)

Just a little idea I had after watching the finale last night. (SPOILERS)

Takes place in the scene where the crew is having beers in the park. A little bit of Abbot x female!reader, a hint of Javadi x Mateo if you squint. Literally just a little blurb I had in my head before bed and thought i'd share.

~~~~~~

They all sat there, in a reflective, exhausted silence for a moment. VIctoria is the one that breaks it, "So, now what?"

There's a hesitant moment of silence, and then… laughter. They all laugh. Some a little more hysterical than others. Robby laughs the loudest, the day hitting him all at once, "Now, you go home. Go home and do… whatever it is you need to do to sleep tonight." He leans forward and rubs both hands over his face and chuckles again.

Mateo grins and gives Victoria a little look, not so subtly, "Comfy sweats and something funny on TV."

Beside him Donnie scoffs, "Hot shower, Mom's leftover lasagna and melatonin. I don't care if I fall asleep with my face in the plate."

The group laughs again. Then, soft ,almost like she's talking to herself Princess sighs, "Think I'm gonna put on some Forensic Files, have a glass a wine, and troll Tinder until I fall asleep on the couch."

"What about you boss man?" Abbot elbows Robby and takes another drink of beer.

"Me? Oh I'm just gonna go home, and go to bed. Try not to wake up until Monday." He sets his beer down so he can do exactly that.

Samira speaks up, "What about you Dr. Abbot?"

Jack takes a deep breath and nods, "I am going to go home, take a hot shower, heat up the dinner I was supposed to eat," He glances at his watch, "Four hours ago. Then I am going to make love to my wife until I pass out, and if I wake up sometime before seven am, I'll come back, check on my night shift gremlins, see if they need any more help."

While Samira and VIctoria are busy blushing and avoiding eye contact entirely, Jack and Robby cheers with what's left of their beer.

A black truck pulls up on the street between the hospital and the park. "Speak of the devil." Robby chuckles as he picks up his bag.

Abbot looks over his shoulder and smirks, "I'm gonna tell her you said that."

"Go right ahead, we've called each other worse." Robby smiles and stands up as the truck door slams behind them.

A pretty, young woman walks around the back of the truck in a pair of yoga pants and a hoodie, twirling a simple black cane in one hand like a baton. "So, my mama was right, only hoodlums hang out in the park after dark."

"Watch it." Donnie snarked back at her as she approached. Jack just smiled and finished cleaning the blood off his shoe.

Mateo waved, "Hey Mrs. A."

She met Robby half way and he wrapped her up in a big hug, "Hey trouble."

"Look who's talking." He teased her as he gave her an extra squeeze. "Make sure he takes it easy tonight."

"You know I'll try." Her voice was soft and maybe a little tired. Like she'd been patiently, anxiously, waiting to hear something, anything, while she had been stuck at home. "Take care of yourself." She rubbed his back as they pulled apart. As Robby walked away she walked over to the bench and squeezed onto the end next to Princess. "Everybody okay?"

For the most part everyone just nods, Princess leans her head on her shoulder and closes her eyes. Jacks wife just smiles and leans her own head against Princess's. "Anyone need a ride home?"

All around the group pretty much shakes their head, "I think we're goin' to hang out here for awhile Mrs. A." Matteo gives her a smile.

"Ok." She returns the smile like she gets it. She does. "How about you Doc?" She shifts her gaze to her husband in the bench across from hers.

He doesn't flinch under her gaze, he knows she's triaging him as they sit. She's looking at his posture, his eyes, his facial expression, he's already taken the prosthesis off and he knows that tells her a lot, "Waitin' on you." Jack gives her a grin and a wink.

WIth a nod she gives Princess a hug, it's awakard at their angle but they both smile. When she stands up she flips the cane end over end like she's done it a thousand times and holds the grip out towards him, "You want this or you gonna put that back on?"

Jack just groans, "Just help me up." He held his right hand out and she took it. They locked their hands around eachother's forearm and she set her feet to take his weight as she helped him up. He took his cane and leaned on it, not so sneakily watching her ass as she bent over to grab his backpack and hand it to him. "C'mere." He used her grip on the bag to tug her to him for a quck kiss and a little tap on the ass. Like he didn't think twice about the PDA in front of his coworkers he turned around. "You kids stay out of trouble. Go home and get some sleep." He gave each of the others a look, an easy smile as he shouldered his bag. "You did good today."

Beside him his wife grabbed his prosthesis off the bench where he'd stood it and gave everyone a wave, "Night guys." Then walked with Jack to his truck where she stood by as he opened the passenger door and climbed inside.

The others watched as she walked around the front of the truck, Jacks truck, and climbed into the drivers seat.

Samira watched as the truck started up and drove away, "That's Dr. Abbots wife?"

Donnie and Mateo both nodded. Princess spoke up, "She was his physical therapist at Walter Reid. Very young. Very sexy. Very scandalous." She chuckled at the other girls expressions and took a sip of her beer. "Don't worry, one of these days it'll be our turn."

Victoria might not have seen the slight blush on Mateo's cheeks, but it was there. Princess and Donnie shared a knowing looke, tapped their beer cans together in a cheers and sat in the dark, listening to the chatter and the sound of sirens running code 3 in the distance.

~~

[yunzyoi]

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐃𝐚𝐦𝐧 𝐍𝐨𝐬𝐞 (s.jy)

[NSFW] That Damn Nose [Pt. 3] - jake x f!reader

𓂃۶ৎ [ 제이크] You were just trying to survive the last High School year. Just trying to get your shit together, trying be ready to be an adult. But you had one single distraction. Jake Sim, your math teacher.

٠࣪⭑ cw/tags: smut, soft!dom math teacher jake and sub f!reader student. plot?, porn, age gap (just two years), dirty talk, phone sex, recording, fingering, masturbation, face riding, pussy eating, squirting, public, mdni. don't read if uncomfortable.

٠࣪⭑ wc: 3.08k

You had a huge crush on your math professor since the year started. But what would you do if he felt the same attraction? ᯓ★

୨ৎ

You moan softly against your hand, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Jake works his tongue on you from behind. He moans against your pussy. You had waited 'til the end of his period to ask him a question about the class but instead you got bent over his desk with his face buried in your pussy. It had been like this all week. Every day, after his period, in his classroom, he'd eat you out, every time better than the last one. Sometimes you would suck him off. Mostly, he'd prefer to have you on his face. You rock your hips back against his face and he chuckles.

"Mmh, like that, baby" He murmurs behind you as you grab the edge of the table and whine softly.

"I'm close—"

"Good" He says while his fingers press on your clit for more pleasure. You moan again. "Quiet"

You try, you really try but when the knot in your stomach explodes and your orgasm hits. You only see stars. Jake cleans you up with his tongue, helping you ride your orgasm. Once your breathe calms down, he kisses you ass cheek and bites it softly.

"God you taste so damn good, I could do it all day" He murmurs standing up to help you get off the table. He kisses your neck from behind and sits down on his chair with you on his lap. "You okay?

You nod leaning back against his body, resting your head back against his shoulder. He looks down and his cock throbs in his pants at the view of you looking so spent. You whine softly when he caresses your body. "What was that question you had about class?" He asks gently with a soft smile that only makes you blush intensely. You whine again, softly, sweetly, nuzzling his neck a little.

"The theorem" You murmur, his scent making you feel drunk. "It's so hard" You say again, all lost in the aftermath of your orgasm.

Jake chuckles, his hands holding you against him. "Oh look at you, so cuddly" He murmurs. "You liked it that much, princess?" And you nod, no shame. "Thought so"

Jake feels like he could die. Having you in his arms makes him feel all fuzzy and at the same time in so much power. You're all spread, sitting on his lap, nuzzling his neck, talking nonsense, all wet and sticky from your orgasm, a complete mess. And he knows it's because of him. He knows he did this to you. He knows you're like this only for him. And it drives him crazy.

"Jake?" You say softly seeing how he got lost in his thoughts. He snaps back quickly. "Will you explain it to me?"

Jake looks down at his wrist and frowns. "Oh, angel, I wish I could, but look, it got so late" He says looking down at you. "I'm so sorry darling"

"But the exam is tomorrow" You say, sitting straight, a little scared. "I asked you—"

"It's not that I don't want to, princess" He says. "I just cannot keep you here for longer, they'll notice you're missing" He sighs and removes some hair from your face. "Let's do something..."

"What" You look at him, waiting, nervous, you need to pass that exam.

"Later today, I'll call you, okay? And we can have like an online review of the exam" He says and right now he just sounds like any other teacher, if we forget that you're half-naked on his lap, of course. "You okay with that?"

You nod quickly, agreeing with him for an online review. You had no idea how you'd handle having his voice on your ear for that long without getting your panties off your body but all you needed to do was pass that exam with good grades because you got a B on the last exam and your mom was mad.

୨ৎ

You felt like a total mess. It was infurating, frustrating but at the same time, so hot the way Jake turned you on. He didn't even have to do anything, just his mere existence made your legs shake and your pussy throb with need. The fact that now you get eaten out by him on a daily basis doesn't help. You shake slightly, sweat all over you, hand between your legs. Yes, again, you were just touching yourself for him. Thinking about how he gets hard for you, about the times you've touched him, about the way his nose runs down your pussy. "Jake" You whine softly, bedding wet again, fingers deep inside you. You wanted more, more than just a head on a tuesday afternoon in his classroom. You wanted to have him inside you.

Every time you saw him get hard, every time you took his cock in your hands to pleasure him with your mouth you could only think about how he'd feel inside you. How he'd stretch you out, push deep, hit that spot that you can't reach. Your mind only raises with more and more thoughts. Jake balls deep into you, kisses all over you because you know he's so fucking gentle with you. Pretty pet names and praises coming out his lips while he absolutely destroys you.

Your phone rings, eyes open abruptly, the ringtone disturbing your fantasy, interrupting the perfect rythm your fingers had. You reach for it to turn down whoever is calling. You weren't expecting the name that showed up on the screen. And then it's like your brain shifts. The online review. Fuck. You remove your fingers from your pussy and pick up, still twitching with need in your bed, not knowing what to do but desperate to hear his voice.

"Hey, angel" He says softly, enough to make you gasp and squeeze your thighs together. "You okay?" He chuckles. If he knew.

"Y-yeah..." You say softly, trying to sit down but he speaks again and it only makes your head spin, falling back again, legs squeezing and moving.

"So, just calling to let you know we can start whenever you want, we'll do a little facetime so you can have a better visual of what I'll—" He stops, he knows something's off, you're too easy to read even on call. "Sweetheart are you there?" He asks.

Your heart beating like it's running marathon at the new petname. He was being so fucking sweet with you while you were here, spread out in your bed and fighting the urge to moan and touch yourself while he speaks in your ear. He called in such an unfortunate moment. Right when you were imagining his dick buried in you.

"Yes" you say, breathy. He notices immediately. "Just woke up" You lie, and he knows it.

"Just woke up?" He says, sweet, but he's smirking, like he knows and continues talking, waiting for the right second where you fall apart for him. "Oh, darling, I'm so sorry to hear that I woke you up" He says, faking this time. "If you want I can call later, maybe?

"No." You quickly say, way too fast. Like you're possessed. "Please" And there it is, falling apart.

Jake's cock throbs at your trembling voice. "Oh?" He reacts immediately. He knew that "please" wasn't you asking him to explain you that theorem. "You want me to stay, baby?"

You nod, forgetting he can't see you and then you manage to talk again. "Yes"

"I'll stay, darling" He says softly, knowing exactly what he's doing. "Do you want me talk to you, mmh?" He says, teasing, waiting to see how you'll confess what you so clearly were doing.

"Yes" You whisper, weakly, oh you were slowly falling apart. You couldn't help it, it was so easy to melt to his voice.

"How adorable, did i catch you doing something?" He asks, your heartbeat quickening, hands fisting the phone and the bedsheet, still fighting the urge to bury your hand in between your legs.

"Jake—" You try to speak, but you're almost shaking.

"Of course I did, your voice is telling me everything about it." He chuckles biting his lips. "Were you thinking of me, baby? Thinking of what I do to you every day? What I still haven't done to you?"

You moan, unable to hold back anymore. back arching off the bed.

"Talk to me darling, tell me what you want" He says softly, filthy in some way.

"Jake I—" You gasp softly. "I want you" You confess. Not like he didn't know that. "I can't do this" You continue, weak, vulnerable.

"You want me?" He asks teasingly.

"Oh yes" you whine like you're in pain from not having him.

Jake chuckles, his cock already hard in his pants. He bites his lips, thoughts immediately raising. "What are you wearing, baby?"

Your heart skips a beat when he asks that and you feel embarrassed to even answer it. "Just a shirt"

Jake almost goes into cardiac arrest at the though of you almost naked. "In bed?" You nod and hum. He smiles, finding you adorable. "Jesus christ" He whispers. "You sound desperate, what a mess" He chuckles, his hand eager to touch himself. "I bet you're soaked" You moan softly. "Yes, you are"

"Jake— Jake please" You say, not really knowing what you're begging for exactly.

"Yes darling? What do you want me to do?" He asks softly again, his hand slowly moving to his growing cock. "Want me to help, mmh?

"Oh God, yes, please" You moan gripping the sheets.

"Oh baby, why are you torturing yourself, go ahead and keep touching yourself for me" The second he gives you permission your hand is buried in between your thighs again. Fingers searching for your clit and a curse escaping your lips. "I'll guide you, baby, don't worry"

Fuck, he'll guide you. That's all there is in your mind right now. Your back arches off the bed.

"How wet are you?" He asks. It was impressive how sweet his tone always sounded compared to the filthy words he said.

"So wet, Jake, I can't—" He smiles at how overwhelmed you sound.

"Shhh, easy, just listen to my voice" He says and smirks at your whiny voice. "I want you to get your pretty fingers soaked in your own juices, then spread it around"

You moan at how dirty he sounded and immediately do as he asks. Your fingers already soaked and spreading the wetness around your pussy and even your inner thighs. Jake was loving it even though he couldn't see it.

"That's it baby, now find your clit and and give it some touches for me. Imagine it's my fingers doing it for you, do it like you know I would" He orders carefully. You're so desperate that you can't wait until he's done and your fingers are already working your clit.

You were so desperate that your clit was already swollen and so, so sensitive. You arch your back. "Jake..." You whine and he chuckles.

"Good girl" He whispers palming his cock through the fabric of his pants. "Now slide them down baby, I want those fingers sliding down your folds"

It was so dirty that you were sure you were getting way wetter at his words. You do as he says, fingers slippery and sticky sliding down. Up and down while he keeps talking. Praising.

"You like that, baby? When I tell you you're doing good?" You moan and nod desperately. He knows you're probably nodding and chuckles. "Words, love"

"Oh God, yes, please tell me I'm good"

He chuckles at your desperation, never in his life has he met anyone so desperate for him. "You're such a mess for me. You'd do anything for me to praise you, huh?"

"Yes" You say breathy and whimpery almost immediately.

Jake nearly moans at your response his hands quickly reaching his pants, undoing them and pulling out his cock. "Fuck" He whispers. "You're gonna regret saying that later" He leans his head back. "Just keep touching yourself for me, okay?"

You keep going, faster, whining loudly.

"Slide your fingers in for me" Jake orders, breathy, his hand moving up and down on his cock.

You arch your back when you do it. You're so fucking wet that your fingers go in easily. You're sure that you could fit another finger but for now, two is fine. Your hand moves fast, Jake's groans on the other side of the line pushing you closer.

"That's it, baby, just like that, such a good girl" He whisper and moans, unable to hold it. "Oh God, I wish I was there with you" He says out of breath, whimpery. "Fuck, baby, I'd make you feel so good" His hand moves relentless, up and down, squeezing, imagining it's your pussy wrapped around it.

"Jake" You moan, pussy making the dirtiest noises. "Jake, I'm gonna cum" You warn.

"Wait a little, darling, until I tell you, can you do that for me? I know you can do it" He says lost in his pleasure.

You moan in response slowing down to delay your orgasm until he tells you. All because you wanna be good and get praised.

Jake moves his hand, whimpering almost in your ear. "Fuck, baby, I want to fuck you so badly" He confesses making you arch your back and see stars. "You have no idea how much I'm holding back every time I see you"

You moan at his words. You wanna ask him why is he holding back. You've had plenty of opportunities this week yet he didn't take them. However he interrupts you.

"Fuck, I'm so close" He whispers. "Cum with me, princess"

You start moving your fingers faster again, synchronizing with him. Both of you moan and gasp and finally the orgasms hit, almost at the same time.

"Oh fuck" You hear him say. "Oh—Oh...Jesus"

୨ৎ

You set your phone on your desk biting your lip, cam app open. Your eyes sharp and your door locked. A knot in your throat from how nervous you are. You've never done this. You've always been quite reserved, never even took a single nude in your life. But lord, Jake. Jake's existence just hits you like a train at high speed. He's just that man that drives you insane. That man that makes you forget all your values. You'd do anything for him. You know for sure since the first time he ate you out two weeks ago, that exact moment is what convinced you: You'd do anything for him and more just to get his attention and specially, his praises.

After having sex through the phone with Jake last week, you and him have been texting a lot, not just sexual, but also just casual. He's always sweet, attentive and he helps you with homework. He never tells you the answers but he loves to help. He's a funny guy too and he likes to overshare about himself. He's always askinghow your day is going, how are you, if you ate. His attention makes your heart flutter.

Phone sex also happened again, and again, and again. And yesterday, after you two finished, he asked you to make a little video for him. This is probably what he meant when he said you'd regret saying you'd do anything for him just to get praised. The thing is, you don't. You don't regret it, you don't even feel shameful.

You press record and lean back, laying in your bed, legs open, completely naked. Your fingers sliding down to your tits, squeezing them, your mind easily creating the fantasies you so like to have about Jake when you touch yourself. Your hand slide lower, reaching your pussy, wet already. The single though of recording yourself for him was arousing and had you turned on all day.

You hiss at the sensation of your fingers on your clit and moan once you start moving them in tight circles. "Jake—" You moan softly, his name coming out so easily, like your lips were always meant to say that single word.

You slide your fingers up and down on your wet folds, so sticky and messy. You bring your fingers up to your face and make direct eye contact with your phone as you take them in your mouth, sucking, and then down again, placing them at your entrance. A silent moan reflected in your face when your dig your fingers in. Jake was gonna lose it, you knew it. Your fingers start moving in and out, everything on a perfect angle for the camera to capture.

You moan, feels good and the thought that Jake will watch it later and probably get off to it only pushes you closer. You moan again, your fingers desperate to reach deeper and deeper, Not quite giving you the same pleasure his fingers or mouth give you but close to make your pussy sound beautifully disgusting. You can feel yourself getting wetter, you can hear it. Your fingers are soaked, making you whine his name over and over again while shaking. You feel the stickiness spread to your inner thighs and before you know it, your hips lift off the bed and you squirt all over yourself and the bedsheets as your orgasm hits.

୨ৎ

3:30 a.m [Voice Note] Mr. Sim: "God I just came three times to that video, you looked so sexy, baby, you did so good. I swear, you're a fucking goddess."

You blush at his voice note. His voice is sleepy, tired, spent. He clearly sent that audio immediately after cuming and it just made you blush even more. And his accent behind every word only made you fantasize again.

3:34 a.m [Text] You: Really? It was messy...

3:35 a.m [Text] Mr. Sim: You did amazing

3:35 a.m [Text] Mr. Sim: The perfect mess for me

You bite your lip and smirk, feeling proud of yourself for doing it. Not a single piece of regret in your body, only that good feeling of doing something for the man you're so obsessed with and him prasing you for it.

3:38 a.m [Text] Mr. Sim: Bet you're smiling

3:38 a.m [Text] You: Nope

3:38 a.m [Text] Mr. Sim: Say no all you want but when I have you pressed against my desk you're saying yes to anything I say

His text almost turned you on again but you try to stay calm and think of an answer.

3:39 a.m [Text] Mr. Sim: Cute

3:39 a.m [Text] Mr. Sim: Nothing to say?

3:38 a.m [Text] You: 🙄

3:40 a.m [Text] Mr. Sim: You should sleep

3:40 a.m [Text] You: Okay

3:41 a.m [Text] You: Have a good night

3:41 a.m [Text] Mr. Sim: Good girl

3:42 a.m [Text] Mr. Sim: Sleep well :)

[Part 1] ₍^. .^₎⟆

[Part 2] ₍^. .^₎⟆

[Part 3] ₍^. .^₎⟆ - you're here ! (˶˃⤙˂˶)

[Prof Jake] ₍^. .^₎⟆

© yunzyoi 2025. all rights reserved.

[casssmalefantasy]

off mute (part two) — paige bueckers x reader!

s: after the chaotic tiktok live, you can’t stop replaying the moment with paige in your head. flirty dms have only fueled the tension, but when you find yourself at a uconn game in the student section, paige notices you—and she’s not letting it slide.

w: smut, heavy teasing, dominance, exhibitionism (in private setting), tension-filled, public flirting, dirty talk, unprotected (in text).

word count: 4.5K (mmh yup)

part one of off mute!

author’s note: yall wanted a part two so i hope you enjoy it <3

it’s been days since that tiktok live. you keep replaying the moment in your head—the way paige smiled when she noticed you on screen, the playful comments, the slight teasing that never quite crossed the line. she hasn’t messaged you since that night, but you can’t shake the feeling she’s thinking about it just as much as you are. maybe more.

the dms from paige were casual, but you felt the weight behind them.

paigebueckers:

you got pipes fr fr.

might need a private concert sometime 👀

and you... well, you couldn't help but play along

yourusername:

maybe I'll take you up on that 😁

nothing too serious. just hints.

then today, out of nowhere, your friend texts you, asking if you wanna go to the uconn game with her. she has an extra ticket—her boyfriend was supposed to come, but he ended up getting sick last-minute—and, well, she knows you’re a big fan.

so, here you are.

your friend’s off grabbing snacks for the both of you, and you’re sitting in the student section, alone, feeling way more out of place than you thought you’d feel. you’re surrounded by people chanting, jumping, waving pom-poms, you didn’t expect the student section to feel so…different.

but, here you are.

and then it happens.

you look up, and your eyes lock with hers.

paige.

she’s on the court, obviously. doing her thing, looking like she was born for the spotlight. she catches your gaze across the arena and doesn't look away. there’s a moment—just a second—but it's enough for you to feel the heat rise in your chest, the way her eyes narrow slightly, a flicker of recognition, something unreadable.

it makes your heart skip.

the game continues, but you’re hardly watching. instead, you’re staring at paige every time she gets the ball, the way she moves, the way she owns the court. every now and then, you catch her glancing back at you—maybe it’s just your imagination, but you’re pretty sure she’s doing it on purpose.

then the game ends. uconn wins. the crowd goes wild.

you stand up, but something’s off. there’s an undeniable pull in your chest, and you can’t ignore it. paige’s on the court now, high-fiving teammates, walking toward the locker room, but she pauses when she sees you again.

you lock eyes one more time.

this time, she doesn’t look away.

you try to shake off the nervous energy, turning to your friend who already moved to the side to call her boyfriend. someone’s walking toward you. and then, before you know it, paige’s standing right in front of you.

“hey,” she says, leaning casually against the railing in front of you. her voice is smooth, confident, like she’s in control of this entire situation.

“hey,” you respond, trying not to sound too eager, but you’re not fooling anyone—not even yourself.

“you here alone?” paige asks, raising an eyebrow, clearly enjoying this.

“nah, my friend’s around here somewhere. she’s checking in on her boyfriend that got sick.,” you explain, trying to play it cool, but your heart’s racing.

paige smirks. “that’s good. wouldn’t want you to be distracted.”

her words hit you harder than you expect. your breath catches, and you can’t help but laugh softly. “distracted by what?”

“me, obviously,” she replies, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

you blink. okay, now she’s pushing all the right buttons.

before you can respond, someone from the team calls for her. paige glances over her shoulder, but not before shooting you a quick, teasing smile. “guess i’ll see you around, then,” she says, giving you a once-over before walking away.

you watch her walk off, the sway of her hips hypnotic, her jersey hugging her figure in ways you’re not supposed to notice at a public game.

but you do.

and you can’t shake the feeling that this is far from over.

—

later that night, you’re sitting on your bed, texting your friend about the game—well, mostly just trying to keep your cool, pretending you weren’t absolutely losing it when paige smiled at you.

you unlock your phone, ready to send a reply when—

new message from paigebueckers

you freeze.

paigebueckers:

you look good out there tn. i couldn’t stop looking at you ngl.

yourusername:

you couldn’t stop looking at me? why’s that?”

paigebueckers:

don’t act like you don’t know. i can tell when a pretty girl is staring at me.

you don’t respond right away. instead, you take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. this is happening.

yourusername:

oh? i was trying not to stare, but obviously i failed.

paigebueckers:

yeah? i’m glad you did tho, even tho i was the one who couldn’t look away.

you bite your lip. this is flirting—serious flirting—and it’s happening in real time.

yourusername:

maybe we should test it out sometime. see if we can’t look away from each other.

paigebueckers:

mmh maybe we should. tell you what—come by my dorm tomorrow. we’ll see if you can keep your eyes off me then.

yourusername:

are you being serious rn?

paigebueckers:

yeah. i wanna put your message to the test. so come.

your breath hitches.

yourusername:

text me the address and i’ll be there.

—

the next day, you’re outside paige’s dorm, feeling the weight of every step as you walk toward the door. you can already feel the anticipation building in your chest, but you’re not about to turn back now.

you knock.

a moment later, the door swings open. paige stands there in sweats, her hair pulled back loosely, a casual smile on her face.

“you actually came,” she says, stepping aside to let you in.

“of course,” you reply, voice low. “you said you wanted to test it out, right?”

paige grins, closing the door behind you. “oh, trust me. i plan to.”

before you can say another word, she’s on you—pushing you back against the door, her lips crashing onto yours with a hunger that leaves you breathless.

her kiss is deep, needy, like she’s been waiting for this moment too. her hands move to your waist, sliding under your shirt to pull you closer. you’re already melting, body pressing into hers with a desperate urgency.

“you’ve been teasing me since the minute we locked eyes. ,” she murmurs between kisses, her voice rough with desire.

your fingers tangle in her hair as you pull her even closer, grinding into her. “i’m just getting started.”

she pushes you toward the couch, and without warning, her hands are all over you—touching, exploring, making sure you feel every inch of her dominance. her fingers slide down to your pants, quickly unbuttoning them and slipping them off.

"you're gonna be so fucking good for me," she murmurs, voice dripping with lust, so low it feels like it was meant for your skin instead of your ears.

you barely have time to respond before she’s on you again, her lips trailing fire down your neck, between your breasts, nipping, licking, biting — like she’s memorizing every inch. her hands are everywhere, possessive and sure, like she’s staking a claim.

the way she moves — so confident, so in control — makes your pulse race. you feel caged in the best way, like there’s nowhere to run, like she’s not gonna let you come up for air until she’s good and ready.

"look at me," she commands, her voice razor-sharp and dripping with want. her eyes dark and blown. "i want you to keep your eyes on me the whole time. understand?"

you nod, breathless, completely gone already — but she doesn’t wait for words. she never does.

her fingers slip inside you with devastating precision, curling just right, her thumb pressing against your clit like she’s been dreaming about this — about you — for longer than she’d ever admit. your hips buck into her hand, a moan ripped straight from your throat.

"that’s it," she purrs. "already so fucking wet for me. this is mine now."

she curls her fingers again, deeper, harder this time, and you cry out, your hands fisting the sheets — or maybe her hoodie, you can’t tell anymore. her mouth finds yours again, hungry and bruising, swallowing your sounds like she wants to taste how wrecked she’s making you.

“don’t look away,” she warns, pulling back just enough to watch your face as her fingers pump into you faster, harder. “i wanna see everything. every little reaction.”

your legs are shaking, your body arching off the bed, and she’s still watching you, obsessed, lips parted like she might lose her mind just from watching you fall apart.

"you’re taking me so fucking well,” she groans, thumb circling your clit faster now. “don’t come yet.”

you whimper, desperate, on the edge, but her voice drops to a whisper — dark, delicious, dangerous— right against your mouth:

“you come when i say, baby. not a second before.”

you nod, or try to, but your body’s barely holding itself together. her fingers don’t stop — they keep moving, slow now, teasing, like she knows exactly what you need and she’s edging you on purpose.

she leans down again, lips brushing your ear. “you wanna come so bad, don’t you?” she whispers, her breath hot, her voice pure sin. “i can feel it. how close you are. but you’re gonna wait. for me.”

your hips jerk up, your mouth opening in a soundless gasp when she suddenly pulls her fingers out — and you almost cry from the loss.

"shhh," she coos, kissing your hip. "don’t worry. i’m not done with you. not even close."

you watch, breath hitching, as she lowers herself between your legs. her hands spread your thighs apart like she owns them — like she owns you— and her eyes flick up, meeting yours again.

“eyes on me,” she reminds you, smirking.

then her mouth is on you.

your whole body arches, a sob tearing out of your chest as her tongue flicks, slow and devastating. she eats you out like it’s her favorite thing in the world — like she’s starved for it, like she’s been waiting to do this, and now she’s not holding back.

she moans into you, and the sound vibrates straight through your core. her grip tightens on your thighs, holding you still, her mouth relentless — her tongue circling your clit, dipping down, then coming back up with maddening precision.

you’re barely breathing. your hands are in her hair now, gripping, pulling, but it only makes her groan again, sending another wave of pleasure crashing through you.

"fuck—paige, please," you pant, toes curling, voice breaking.

she pulls back just enough to speak, lips slick with you. “you sound so pretty when you beg,” she says, and her smirk turns dangerous. “but you still don’t come until i say.”

you nod frantically, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from how good it feels — how much you need to let go.

and then, just when you think she might keep edging you forever, she sinks two fingers back inside, curling hard against that spot, her mouth sucking your clit, fast, focused, merciless.

“cum for me, baby,” she growls. “right now.”

and you do.

it rips through you like lightning, your whole body shaking, your legs trembling around her shoulders. she doesn’t stop — not through your orgasm, not even after — like she wants to drag every last drop of pleasure out of you.

by the time she finally pulls back, your chest is heaving, your vision is blurry, and your body’s still twitching.

she kisses her way back up your body, slow and deliberate, until she’s hovering over you again, lips swollen, pupils blown wide.

"you’re perfect like this," she murmurs, brushing a thumb across your cheek. “wrecked and all mine.”

—

your body’s still humming, warm and shaky as she settles beside you, tugging you into her like she didn’t just ruin you ten minutes ago. her hand traces slow, aimless shapes along your spine, lips pressing lazy kisses to your shoulder.

it’s quiet for a beat—the kind of quiet that feels thick with everything unsaid. everything that just happened.

“so…” she finally murmurs, smirking into your skin. “that voice of yours…”

you groan, already burying your face in her neck. “don’t start.”

“what? i’m just saying. you were singing all soft and pretty on that live,” she says, clearly enjoying this. “and then you were being loud for me. kinda poetic, honestly.”

you swat at her half-heartedly, but she just laughs, pulling you closer. “i’m serious. you’ve got range, baby.”

you’re still trying to come up with a comeback— something clever, when her phone buzzes on the nightstand.

she sighs, reaching over, still half tangled with you. one look at the screen and she snorts, groaning as she flips it to show you:

camera arnold 📸:

y’all nasty. i had my airpods in and STILL heard you.

you choke on your own breath, clutching the pillow as you laugh and hide your face.

“oh my god,*” you wheeze. “i’m never showing my face again.”

paige’s grin is way too pleased with herself. “that’s crazy,” she says, tossing her phone aside and rolling on top of you again. “’cause i was just about to say how proud i am.”

you raise a brow. “proud?”

“mhm.” she kisses your cheek. “of how loud you were.”

you groan. “i’m leaving.”

“no you’re not.”

she kisses you again—and okay, maybe you’re not.

tags: @angelliicc @syraxsbigfanfr @lyzsaphrodite (here you go bestiesss)

[bluetimeombre]

・❥ ‘Are you Hugh down under?’

You and Hugh were the stars of the biggest movie, Wolverine and Ladypool, and fans love the two of you.

[not proof-read, some sexual innuendo, just Hugh being hot af]

part two

You and Hugh Jackman being in love for twenty-five minutes (part one)

Puppy interview

Did you take any props home with you?

'Yea, I took Hugh home,' you said, letting a puppy climb over you and onto your shoulders as Hugh laughed. 'In his suit as well.'

'In the suit,' he said, stroking the puppy in his lap.

'Yep. Great in the house, goes with all my furniture. He's well trained.'

Hugh nodded, enthusiastically. 'I'm not toilet trained, but I'm trained in other ways.'

You raise your brows and the crew laugh. 'I want to know what the other ways are now.' You smirk.

Hugh smirked back, shrugging his shoulders as he held up the puppy. 'Well, maybe you'll find out.'

What was your favourite scene to film?

'Any scene with the incredible talent sitting next to me,' Hugh started. 'Every scene was such fun and never felt like work when I got to work with her. I've never had so much fun playing a character. The whole movie at first, you know, the idea was up in the air for me about coming back but just to get the chance to work with such a talent- an honour and a privilege and I can't wait to do it again.'

Your lips pout into a smile as you listen to him. You focused on Hugh as he smiled at you. 'My favourite scene to film was when I touched his abs.'

He laughed.

'No, seriously it's been a dream of mine to work with Hugh and I can't talk about it too much cause I'd probably get emotional and that'd be embarrassing. I've grown an emotional attachment to him now,; you added.

Hugh looked around at all of the puppies. 'Is there more puppies here than usual?'

'Oh yea, there's more!'

'Someone's been making out,' said Hugh.

'Not us,' you said, leaning over.

He laughed. God, he was always laughing with you.

With Alison Hammond

The two of you sat next to each other, legs bumping into each other repeatedly to tease each other. At times you'd just throw your leg over his thigh and he'd bounce his leg. (Fans ate it up)

'Alright you two,' said Alison.

'Sorry,' you laugh. 'He's taking up too much space.'

'The Wolverine spread,' he said.

You laughed.

Alison gave her a loud laugh. 'Well, is it true, Hugh?' she asked. 'Are you huge down under?'

The three of you laughed, rocking back and forth and hitting your knees.

'I started the rumour,' you said. 'So, take that as you will.'

Hugh showed Alison his shoe as she fanned herself off.

You took another card she offered you and fanned yourself off as Hugh sat back, throwing his arms behind his head.

'So, we should probably talk about the film,' said Alison.

'Let's just talk about Hugh,' you said, leaning back just like he was. 'Ever won an Oscar, Hugh?'

He pulled a straight face at you.

'Now, can I say, Y/N, this is a bit awkward as usually it's just me and Hugh. Last time we had a date, so I've brought champagne, but only two glasses,’ she pulled off the cover that showed off the bucket.

'I'll take the bottle,' you said, reaching over the two of them. 'I can leave you guys, don't worry.'

Hugh grabbed your arm as you tried to leave. 'No, no, you can be our mediator.'

'Your intimacy coordinator more like,' you said as Alison laughed. 'I've seen how these interviews go Alison, I've never had Hugh feed me chocolates.'

Hugh reached over the table as Alison talked about 'a throuple' and he opened the box of chocolates, throwing away the thin layer of film covering them with his teeth. You only realised what was going on seconds before he fed you chocolate from his mouth. You tried to stay calm the closer you got and took the chocolate, chewing down happily.

'Feel like I'm interrupting something,' said Alison.

You stole the box from Hugh. 'Your turn, Alison!'

'So how tough was it working with Hugh, Y/N?'

You slapped your thighs dramatically. 'The toughest ever. You know sometimes I'd actually have to look at his face and I mean, have you seen this-' you frame his face, holding his chin. 'How can I work with this?'

He stuck his tongue out.

(Almost this whole interview was the two of you flirting)

Hot one's interview

'You're watching hot ones. It's the show with hot questions and even hotter wings. Today we're joined by Y/N and Hugh Jackman, the stars of Wolverine and Ladypool.'

'I only let Wolverine come first so we could use the greatest showman in the movie,' you said. 'For Hugh.'

First wing and first question.

You and Hugh cheers with Sean before taking a bite. You nod, 'Good wing, subtle, nice.' You went in for another bite, surprising them.

'Oh, you're going for another bite,' said Hugh, eyes watching your lips (comments couldn't let it go).

'Yeah, I like things hot,' you tell him, giving him a dramatic wink.

'What was the movie that you watched of each other that made you realise you needed to work with each other?' asked Sean.

'As soon as I saw the first Ladypool,' said Hugh. 'I knew these two characters had to be together on screen. I was like these two characters had to be together and I'd literally announced my retirement three days before.'

'Mine was probably when I saw the first ten minutes of Australia,' you said, referring the first ten minutes in which he turns up shirtless and sweaty. 'Knew I needed to see it real-time.'

Hugh huffed out a laugh.

'Or Logan. That was, a masterpiece of a film.'

The next couple wings went down well, getting through the questions. It was the fifth when things started to get heated.

'Yep, that's a step up,' said Hugh as he went for the milk.

'Can you recall the most takes you've had to do for a scene requested by a director?' asked Sean.

'Our steamy scene in the car had quite a few takes,' you said, Hugh agreeing with a nod. 'Kept messing up, you see,' you said, winking.

'That was a difficult scene,' said Hugh.

'Why cause you had to kiss me?'

Hugh shook his head. 'That was the easiest part, I'm laughing, I'm not crying cause of the heat. But doing some of those... positions we had to do in the car, it was hard to work around.'

'I got cramp in my leg.'

He laughed loudly at the memory.

The next wing messed the two of you up, the heat creating sweat. All Hugh could do was laugh and you laughed at him as he went red.

'Look, look at this!' Hugh puts his arm up, showing his bicep.

'What am I looking at? Your raging muscles?' you ask, looking closer.

'No, the sweat.'

'Oh, sorry I was distracted.'

On the next wing, Hugh repeated he took too big a bite, how it was too big and all you had to do was give him a look with raised brows.

You and Hugh take a lie detector test

First hooked up was Hugh, you watched in glee as ties were wrapped around him.

'This is a new kink,' you said, smiling all too widely as Hugh laughed at you.

You started by asking him some simple questions that were easy answers, like his name and where he was born. 'Are you really Australian?'

'Yes.'

You looked to Louis. 'Tell me it's a lie.'

'Truth.'

'This Australian bit has got so far,' you say.

'You love it,' he said.

'We'll find out when I'm hooked up.'

'How you seen all my movies?' you asked.

He thought for a moment. 'No.'

'Deceptive.'

The two of you looked at each other with amused looks and big eyes. 'You can tell me you've seen them all, you can be a fan, I don't mind.'

He shrugged. 'Maybe I have.'

'You're a fan it's fine.'

'I'm wearing my I heart Y/N underpants today,' he said.

You looked wide-eyed and hopeful at Louis.

'Deceptive.'

You cheer.

'In 2008 you were said to be the sexiest man alive-'

'Said to be,' he scoffed. 'Pretty sure the right word is elected.'

'The question is how many copies of the magazine do you have?' you asked.

'How many do you have?' he threw back.

'I'm not the one on the fucking monitor right now.'

'A standard of fourteen hundred?'

'Is there any more to life than being really, really, really, really, really ridiculously good looking?' you ask, leaning back in your chair. 'That's not on the cards, I just want to know.'

'No.'

'Truthful.'

The two of you cackle. After a couple more questions it was your turn to swap. Hugh took delight in seeing you get tied up.

'Starting to sweat a bit,' you said. 'This really is scary.'

'Yea.'

Again, Hugh started off with some simple questions.

'Last one,' he said. 'Are you single?'

You pulled a straight face as he turned red and watched you. 'Yes, I am. Thank you for reminding me of that fact, Hugh.'

He shook his head. 'Don't worry, we can change that, we can change that.'

'Only if you're offering, bub,' you tease.

'Would you rather have had an Andrew Garfield Spider-man team up than Wolverine?' he asked.

Your jaw dropped as he showed you the question on the card. 'That's not fair I love spiderman and Andrew.'

'But do you love him more than Wolverine?' asked Hugh, feigning seriousness. He waited as you thought about it, head in his hand.

'True,' you said.

'That's a lie.'

'Ha!' Hugh shouted.

'I've shocked myself, man, I must really fancy you,' you said.

Hugh slid over a paper, showing you a picture of Channing Tatum. 'Do you think he would make a good Gambit?'

You try to act cool, he was already in the movie and Hugh knew it. 'Yes, I think he would. It's a shame his movie wasn't made. I feel bad for the guy.'

'Truthful.'

You pick up the picture. 'I love this guy, he's a great guy,' you stare down at the picture, 'He'd made a great Wolverine. I mean, I'm just getting lost in his eyes right now, looking at him.'

Hugh reached over. 'Ok, enough of that,' he took the picture and ripped it up, chucking it behind him.

You and Hugh at the premier

The camera snapped shots of the two of you wearing each other's colours. You were wearing a shimmering golden outfit while Hugh wore red. You had agreed to swap.

The two of you took pictures together, his arm wrapped around your waist, yours going between reaching up to hold his shoulder or holding his hands. You didn't stop for many interviews together, but you spoke a lot on the carpet. That tiktoker, the one good at reading lips had a field day on tiktok when she worked it all out.

Hugh: 'You look great in yellow, you know.'

You: 'You should see the colour of what I'm wearing under here.'

Hugh smirked and laughed. 'You look beautiful tonight.'

It was your turn to blush and tug him along the carpet.

[spidybaby]

Silenced

Summary: Gavi noticed how suddenly you became quiet and shy around him. Thinking he did something bad, he confronted you about it.

Warnings: cursing.

Gavi and you are opposites. Everybody knows it.

You are an extrovert, you love to be around people, you love talking, you love attention.

Gavi is an introvert, he's shy, he's quiet, he prefers when people talk and when the attention is not on him.

You say that's what makes you perfect for each other. Because you motivate him to be more open and he calms you down when you need.

It's like having the best of both worlds, that's what his parents would say.

"Y/n, you are here!" Aurora runs to hug you. "I thought you were in Sevilla."

"I was, but I wasn't going to let you spend your birthday without me." You hug her tightly. "Open your gift."

She pulls you to the couch, opening the gift as soon as you hit the cushion. "No way!" She smiles. "You didn't."

"It was hard to get, I'll admit." You say. "But I know how much you wanted it." You hug her again.

"Thank you, you are the best." She kisses your cheek. "By the way, Pablo is with dad and mom. He's pouting, so I think you can fix that."

You laugh with her. Walking over to the garden where family and friends are. You walk slowly to Pablo, he was watching something on tik tok.

You sit next to him, his parents smiling at how distracted he is. "Hola, preciosa. It's so good to see you." His father says.

"Pablo, serve some water to Aurora's friend." His mom says, trying to get him to notice you.

He left the phone on the table, grabbing a cup and serving some water. He hands you the cup with his eyes still on the screen.

"Gracias, Pablo." You say, about to laugh at how cute he looks all focused.

He lifts his eyes, looking at you. "Guapa!" He smiles. The table laughed at how his eyes got shinny and his mood got better.

The rest of the evening, he didn't separate. He didn't look at his phone. He was focused on hearing you talk about your vacation trip and your last days at sevilla.

He loves hearing you talk, he finds all your stories very interesting. He loves how your eyes shine when you talk about the memories you made.

"Hola, Pablo." A elderly woman says. Touching his shoulders.

"Hola," he says in a serious tone. "This is my girlfriend, Y/n." He introduced you. You wave to her, smiling. "Y/n, this is my aunt Paloma."

"Nice to meet you, ma'am."

She sat in the chair in front of you two, talking with Pablo senior. You two keep talking, well you keep doing it.

"I got that recipe of those cookies you liked." You smile at him. Telling her all your plans. "I think I can make it for you, I just need some ingredients. And I saw this tik tok of a very healthy and non sugary glaze for cookies that you will love. Now that you are back on your diet, I think I can make the cookies more healthy with some organic ingredients." He smiles, knowing that you supported all his restrictions.

"I'm going to go get some juice. Do you want some?" He asks. Getting up from his seat. You nod, thanking him. "Be right back."

You check your phone, you answer some texts from your family, and answer some dms you got after posting a story with Pablo.

"You are such a sweetheart." His aunt says. Making you pay attention. "Isn't she one Pablo?"

"She is." His father smiles. "She's such a nice girl to our Gavi."

"But my oh my, sweetie." She laughs. "You like to talk, I don't know how you do it. I feel lightheaded just by hearing you ramble."

You shily smile, knowing you do talk a lot, and that can be stressful for some people. "Sorry." You say.

"Maybe that's why Gavi likes her." She says to his father. "He gets to be the quiet one like he always was."

They laugh, making you blush. You know you sometimes do talk about a lot of things in one moment, but Pablo never complained.

"Don't get me wrong, cupcake." She says, still laughing. "He totally likes it."

You smile. Pablo has no problem hearing you rambling all night if that's what you wanted to do.

"Here's your juice, Princesa." He says, taking a seat next to you again. You thank him, and he got closer to kissing your shoulder. "Now, why don't you tell me again about that museum you visited in Paris?"

You smile, turning fully to him to tell him again about your adventure at the Louvre museum.

"Fermin, can you get me a bottle of water too?"

Pablo and his friends from La Masia were at his house, they were visiting Pablo and having a little goodbye party for Marc.

You weren't there to bother, but Pablo invited you to go out with him and his sister and you were a little early, so they asked you to joined them.

"Hola, sorry about crushing the party. I was a few blocks away, and it made sense to just come by."

They all say hi back and tell you to enjoy with them the rest of the time they'll be there.

"Hi Marc, sorry to intrude your goodbye party."

"Hola, no biggie, sit and enjoy some cake." Marc smiles. "Gavi, get her some cake."

Gavi walks over to the table where the cake is placed, cutting a piece for you. You loved chocolate cake, so he gets you a big piece.

"How are you, Y/n?" Fermin asks.

"I'm good, been busy lately, college pre courses and things like that. How are you feeling after the Euros?"

"It was amazing, winning and being able to share my first tournament." He smiles. "Gavi wasn't there, but I know he will come back, and we will play together."

You love the relationship Fermin and Pablo have. They all have an amazing brotherhood. La masia really made them a family.

"What courses are you taking?" Fermin asks.

You began telling him about the pre courses you were taking to be able to graduate early.

If someone loves hearing other people talk apart from Gavi, was Fermin. He enjoys a good talk, being able to have long conversations.

So, to him, it was nice that you extended the conversation as long as you wanted.

You tell him everything, literally everything, and he asked things here and there for you to explain.

Hector is seated next to Marc, who is in front of Fermin and you. He was paying attention to the conversation.

"Hey, Guapa." Gavi says, getting your attention. "I forgot your drink." He smiles, handing you a soda can.

"Thank you, I'm thirsty." You joke with him. Making him chuckle, walking back to Ansu.

Hector is someone who's brutally honest. He had no filter when he wanted to say something. Not that it's bad, but sometimes he just says what he thinks without processing the words.

"You must be." He laughs. Making you turn to him. "After everything you told Fermin. You've been talking for a good ten minutes without stopping."

You look down to your untouched cake. Feeling shy about being called out for talking too much by two people close to Gavi.

"God, maybe that's why Pablo never talks." He jokes, not sensing that you don't understand he's joking. "Because he must be tired for you."

That makes Marc and Fermin laugh, they did understand the joke. But they don't notice how you don't laugh or smile.

"Sorry, I sometimes get carried away with conversations." You say, eating the cake and not lifting your sight to hide the fact that your eyes got glossy.

They talk with each other for a little bit. You excuse yourself to move upstairs. You don't feel like talking anymore.

You always got told to shut up by people around you when you were little. Always sensing the discomfort of people when you joined a party or a new group.

That changed when you met your friends from college, they encouraged you to talk and to be as open as you want with the stories you wanted to share.

And when Pablo and you met, at first you were careful, trying not to show how "crazy" you were by literally throwing words up.

But once you were in full trust mode, you started with the talking. Pablo then confessed that he loved how much you talked.

But lately, you were getting the comments you used to get. Feeling like you needed to be quiet and just say a minimum of ten words or less.

Thing you forced yourself to do, only ten words every time someone asked you something you made yourself answers with few words.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" Pablo asks. Closing the door behind him.

"I was -" You stopped. You know he's very quick to get angry, and if you tell what happened, he was going to shout at Hector. "I just gave you space to be with your friends." You fake smile. "Go back, I'll have you tonight."

You kissed his lips and then pushed him out of the room. "I'll make them leave so we can spend some time alone."

"Don't" you point at him. "Go enjoy your friends."

But Pablo didn't mind hurrying the party to an end. Letting the others pick the mess while he watches.

"Thank you for everything, bro." Marc says, hugging him. "I'm going to miss you."

"I'll miss you too." He says, smiling. "Have fun in Chelsea."

"Will send you a jersey." They laugh. "Tell Y/n goodbye for me."

"For us too. See you at training." Fermin and Hector say. Giving Gavi a high five.

He hurries upstairs carefully because he doesn't want to trip on the stairs and hurt himself. He opens the door, finding you watching something on the tv.

You smile at the sight of him, opening your arms. He smiles, throwing himself at you, settling between your legs and pressing you down the mattress.

"Dios mio, Pablo." You laugh, feeling his weight.

"Te amo." He smiles, kissing your neck and cleavage. "Let's call my parents and tell them we are not going."

You humm at the way his lips feel on your warm skin. How his hands are now on your ass, lifting you.

"Don't stop." You beg, moaning.

His hips move, creating a static feeling between your clothed body. A warm feeling that is making your roll your eyes.

Your hands pull his shirt off. His hands unbutton your pants, hand making its way down your most needed part.

He loves the way you moan his name, the way your eyes roll with every trust his hips make. He's intoxicated by you. The same way you feel intoxicated by him.

"Don't you think it is rude to leave your parents and sister alone at the restaurant?" You ask, seating on top of him.

"No, I don't." He laughs. "Arms up." He commands.

You pull your arms up, and he dresses you with his shirt. "Mmm." You exaggerate. "Smells like you." You laugh, kissing him.

He smirks, proud of himself. The look of you is worth like a work of art. Your messed-up hair and your dilated pupils, and the way you are bitting your lips while tracing his muscles with your fingertips.

"Te ves tan preciosa." He kisses your shoulders. Hugging your body and caressing your ass. Making you moan at the feeling of relaxation.

The moment is broken by his phone ringing. The ID caller showing the name of his sister. He groans, moving one of his hands to answer the phone.

"Hola." He says, putting the call on speaker. Leaving it in the night stand and focusing on hugging you again.

"Pablo, did you get my text?"

"No, what is it about?"

You kiss his cheeks. Drunk in love and still into the effects of the orgasms he gave you. Your hands comb his hair while you kiss his temple.

"We picked food and are about to get to your home. The restaurant had an emergency and closed the dining room, but they had takeout.

"Qué?" He asks, checking the text. She asked multiple times what he wanted from the restaurant, then what she was picking, she mentioned she texted you and also picked for you and that they were leaving the restaurant.

"We are like fifteen minutes away. Can you order something for dessert?"

"Si, I'll do it. Bye." He hangs up. "Preciosa, let's get dressed."

"No," you say, extending the o. "I want to stay like this with you."

"Mee too, preciosa. But my parents and sister are coming any moment now, so let's change and when they leave we can cuddle. Deal?" He asks, kissing your forehead.

"Deal." You bump your nose with his. "But I want to stay in your shirt. Please."

He kiss you. "Let's go get ready."

He helps you with your clothes. Sharing some kisses here and there. He tries to get the room to not look like the mess you two make. In case his mom or dad needed to get inside.

He goes downstairs, finding you putting the table together. "Guapa, what kind of dessert do you want?"

"Oh, maybe that pina colada cheesecake we tried the other day." You smile, feeling hungry for it.

He orders it. Just in time because his family git a few minutes later. They greet the two of you.

"I texted you guys." Aurora says.

"It was my fault, I asked Pablo to explain this NBA game, and the phone was silent."

"The Lakers one?" His father asks.

"Yes, they won." Pablo smiles. Kissing your shoulder.

They all ask Pablo how his trainings were, if he was has difficulty with how he's exercising. You stayed quiet, still feeling a little sensitive about the comment Hector did.

Aurora looks at you. She finds how weird it is for you to be quiet. She thinks that maybe something happened with her brother and that's why you are so quiet.

You received the cheesecake, telling them that you would cut it and serve it for them. Aurora took this as an opportunity to talk with you in private.

"Hey, are you okay?" She asks, noticing that you are quiet even with only her.

"Just tired." You half lie.

You were tired after yours and Pablos activities, but also not in the mood to bore people or to make them dizzy with your conversation.

"You know you can talk to me."

"Thank you, I'm fine." You hug her. "I promise I'm just tired."

Pablo noticed it too, you were silent.

You weren't as smiley as you were with his family around. You were more serious. He wanted to ask.

"Are you okay?" He asks, kissing your head.

You two were laying down in his bed, his fingers combing your hair, and his other hand was rumming up and down your back.

You humm, trying to drizz to sleep. He let it go. Blaming your mood on being tired and wanting to sleep.

"I can take you to class tomorrow, is that okay?"

"Si, I'd really appreciate it." You snuggle closer.

He knows you would tell him if something was wrong, if you were hurt, or if he did something. You were honest with him.

But you really weren't honest with him. You chose to retake what you used to do back in the day when people asked you to stop talking.

You fully controlled whatever came out of your mouth. When you were with Pablo or with his family, you were into this new mode.

That made them worry. You told them that you were just stressed with homework and with projects.

Pablo on the other hand didn't fully bought that story. He thought it was something else, but he was way too afraid to ask.

He felt guilty because he thought that maybe something he did was the cause of this behavior.

Aurora told him off, believing that you were just overwhelmed with college things. Maybe because she was, and she chose to believe you.

But when he picked you to go get lunch, he saw you with your friend, you were laughing and talking with such naturality that it makes him feel worse.

"Hola!" You say to him from outside the vehicle. "Bye, I'll call you later."

"Bye, have fun, please do call me. I need you to keep telling me more about the story." She smiles. "Hi and goodbye, Pablo."

"Hi and goodbye to you." Pablo says, smiling at her. "Let's go, Guapa."

The first part of the drive was very quiet. You don't think there's any tension. You just stayed a little too quiet, but it was not like you were mad at him.

To him, it was hell. Why weren't you talking? Why weren't you telling him about your day? He wanted to hear you.

"How was college?" He asks.

"Good." You smile, bringing his hand to your mouth and kissing it.

"What story was your friend talking about?" He asks, trying to get you to talk.

"Oh, nothing." You scuff. "How was your day?"

"C'mon, you know I'm a chismoso."

"It was just about my trip to Valencia."

"Okay."

"Venga! What the fuck is that yellow for?" Pablo says, angry at the referee on tv.

You two were watching a game, he was invited to go with the team but he wanted to spend some time with you.

He was getting busy and close to his comeback date. So for him, it was about spending all the time he could with you and his family.

"That was wrong." You say.

It's been almost six weeks since the incident at his house. You were very good at controlling how much you were talking.

But him, he was losing his mind.

He tried asking questions. Nothing.

He tried asking if something was wrong, not directly, but he did asked.

He tried making Aurora ask. Nothing.

He tried everything, but talking to you.

"Hey, do you remember that one trip we took to Ibiza?"

You smile at the memory, you loved remembering things you two did together.

"Yes, we need to find some time to do that again."

"We do." He smiles. "But I was asking because I tried to remember this story about that painting we saw at the museum tour."

"The one about the princess?"

"Yes, do you remember what it was about?"

"It was about an Aztec princess who -"

You got interrupted by the commentator screaming at a goal Raphinha just scored.

"Jo'er, that was good, and we lost it."

You got quiet again, thinking that maybe he got mad about missing that.

"You were saying, preciosa?"

You shake your head, hugging his waist. "I forgot what I was saying. That was an amazing goal. I can't wait to see you back on the field."

He forgot for a moment what he was trying to do, hugging you back and combing your hair while the fame continued.

"Aurora and I are going to a bonfire tomorrow." You tell him. You were happy about it because you missed your friends and Aurora.

"That's so cool, why for?"

"Just a nice after tests reunion." You smile at him.

"Don't burn yourself, but do eat marshmallows." He jokes, making you laugh.

You two continue to watch the game, enjoying each other's company. You love times like this because Pablo has such little free time that when you do get the time to just be on the couch in each other's arms. You can't complain about anything, just enjoy.

"Hola!" Aurora shouts to all your friends. "We are here, and we got the drinks." You lift the bottle and the package of red cups. "Ready to party?"

Your friends yell in happiness. Making you two laugh. "Hey, I have someone I want to introduce you to."

You followed her inside the beach house, leaving the bottles and cups in the snacks table where everyone dumped what they brought.

"Mikayla, come here." She calls someone in the kitchen. "Y/n, this is Mikayla. She's new in the faculty, Mikayla, this is Y/n."

"The girlfriend." She says.

"Yes, she's Pablo's girlfriend."

You smile at her, weird comment to make about how you are "the girlfriend" as if Aurora haven't told her your name just a second ago.

"Nice to meet you." You fake smile. "I'm going to go help outside with the fire and everything. Can you bring the things to make the smores?" You ask Aurora, not really paying attention to the girl.

You helped your friends with the fire, with mixing the drinks. You were having a lot of fun. You were talking with one of your class friends about how this project you two are doing.

The day was going great, you had so much fun talking and spending time with all your close friends.

You were sat on a beach blanket, drinking a piña colada and texting Pablo how the evening was going.

"Can I sit?" You hear someone saying. Making you look up.

"Sure." You say to Mikayla, going back to your phone. Pablo sent you a photo of him on the physio.

She takes a seat in front of you, "Aurora told me a lot about you."

You smile, knowing Aurora always talks about you with love and care.

"When she told me about you talking a lot, I never thought you were a word dumpster." She laughs.

You got serious, smile disappearing from your face. You want to smack that horrible grind and quiet down that laugh.

"You talk what everybody here doesn't talk." She keeps going.

"What are you talking about?" Aurora joined.

"For once, I think I'm the one talking because your friend right here was doing all the talking all day."

You didn't laughed, you didn't smile. You just looked at them laughing.

"But we love her very much, mom and dad love having her over and how much she loves Pablo."

"Oh, I'm sure she's a pleasure to be around." She says in this sarcastic tone. "I'm sure you love always hearing her talk."

"We do! Even tho sometimes I hear her more than I ever hear Pablo." Aurora jokes.

You got up, getting away from them. You went inside the house, picking your things and ordering an Uber. You don't want to be around people anymore.

"Hey, are you leaving?" Aurora asks, noticing you are walking away. Following you, trying to stop you.

"Go back to your friend Mikayla." You say, stern tone. "I'm leaving."

"Y/n, why are you mad?"

"Nothing Aurora, go back to your fucking friend. I'm sure you can tell her how fucking much I talk and both of you can have a laugh out of me."

You left angry, trying not to cry in the Uber. You felt like a nine year old after your family asked you to be quiet because you were giving them a headache.

You take a long hot and hot shower. Leaving the sand and the worries away. You eat something and watch your favorite movie.

Halfway through the movie, you heard a knock on the door. You roll your eyes, you are not in the mood for visitors.

You find a frowny Pablo on the other side of the door. You know Aurora told him about you leaving, he asked you what happened over text.

"We need to talk."

You walk back to the couch, not feeling like talking with him. "Please, not today." You whine.

"What's going on?" He asks, sitting on the coffee table in front of the couch. "Is something wrong?"

"I don't want to talk."

"But why?" Hes worried, he holds your hands, caressing them with his thumbs. "Amor, I don't understand why you don't want to talk."

You feel your eyes watering, you hate feeling that way around him. He was your safe space, he was the person you feel more comfortable with.

"Because everyone makes fun of me for it." You confess.

He hugs you, letting you cry into his arms. He doesn't understand how people can do that to you when you are a sweetheart.

"Who is doing this?"

"Everyone, Pablo." You pout. "You friends, your aunt, and even your sister."

"My sister?" He asks, confused on why Aurora would do that.

You explained everything, how the comments of his aunt, Hector, how Fermin and Marc laughed, how this new girl made fun of you, and what Aurora said.

"And I just didn't want you to feel tired of me, I don't know."

He softens his expression, noticing how you are really concerned about him growing tired of you and leaving you.

You told him how you used to get these comments when you were little. How your mom and dad always asked you to shut up and to go away.

"Guapa, mirame." He sits next to you. "I love hearing you talk. I love how you tell me about your day, how you tell me about what you are doing in college, how you planned things, how was your trips, you hangings with your friend. I love you for you."

You smile, crying again while hugging him. It was the band-aid your heart needed.

"Te amo, and you would never bored me."

"Te amo, Pablo."

"Are you ready to yell at the referee in live?" You ask him, squishing his hand while laughing.

"I hope I don't have to." He jokes. "Menudo hijo de puta el anterior." (The last one was a son of a bitch)

You were with him on the corridor, the players getting ready for the game. You have the privilege to be able to go with him to all areas of the stadium.

"Wait for me here, I just have to go to the bathroom."

You sit on a bench that was in the corridor. Texting with your friends and updating them on what was happening at the stadium.

"Hey, Y/n."

You lift your head, finding Fermin and Hector there. They have their uniform on.

"Hey guys, good luck today!"

"Gracias, we wanted to talk to you before the game."

"Si, tell me." You smile, standing to talk with them. "Are you okay?"

"We are." Hector says. "I just wanted to say sorry about that one time when I joke about you talking too much, I didn't think it was that bad but now I know it was. Lo siento."

"And I'm sorry about laughing, it was mean of us yo do that, please forgive us."

You smile at them, knowing that Pablo was behind all of this. You can't help but feel thankful with him.

"It okay, no hard feelings." You hug them both. "Now go finish getting ready, you need to go out and score so much goals."

They say goodbye, and magically, Gavi appeared from a few seconds later from the same direction they left.

"You are such a sweetheart." You laugh, hugging him and kissing his lips. "Let's go to our seats, we need to cheer extra hard for your friends."

"Let's go, Guapa." He kisses your head. "Remember, after the game, we are going to my place. You still need to tell me about that presentation you have."

✨️✨️✨️

🏷: @gadriezmannsgirl hi 😝💕

[kingkat12]

hurt people hurt people (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: alcohol consumption, ANGST, throwing up, gore, jealousy schemes, Roman calling people uncouth mongoloids which is literally the same as in the book lol, and major risk of emotional damage (I warned you)

summary: this night would turn out to be the worst of your life-- of our lives. I hope you don't mind that I'm talking to you directly this time?

word count: 11,273

← previous chapter |

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･seven minutes in heaven masterlist

a/n: this is absolutely insane to me... I cannot believe I've FINISHED WRITING A BOOK?? thank you all SO so so much for being a part of this wild ride and for supporting my work, I couldn't have gotten here without all the love and all the comments, I couldn't have gotten this far without you all; therefore, I'm so so excited to give you the ultimate gift-- the last chapter of seven minutes in heaven!! ENJOY!!<333

... Alright.

We've gotten this far. It's Friday, and I need to give Roman an answer, so I'll be quick; after all the shit that has gone down these past months, after everything I've brought you along with me for, I only have one question for you...

Have you understood it yet?

Have you really?

I could sit on Jasmine's front porch for hours and tell you the story of Roman Godfrey over and over, but nothing would ever change. You'd still love him, you'd still ache for him, just as I've done since the moment I saw him. We're in the same boat, after all-- you and I.

Oh, and speaking of Jasmine; her party was the best I had attended in years. Catch the irony? The bass from the music inside thudded through the floor of the porch, vibrating up through my shoes, through my bones, syncing with the frantic rhythm of my heart, and I was therefore glad to be outside now; the ceilings had felt too low, the walls too close, and the crowd swelled like a living, breathing thing-- loud, erratic, suffocating. I couldn't think. I couldn't breathe.

But out on the porch, right now, I could. Even when I thought about the fact that one week had passed, that I was supposed to have an answer for Roman regarding whether we could get together again or not, I could at least breathe. 

I let out a sharp laugh for no one but myself, clutching the bottle of rosé I had managed to steal from my parents' cupboard. It was almost empty now, which was a first for me; I wasn't the biggest drinker, initially. Or was I? I couldn't make up my mind. 

Being drunk, alone, and vulnerable at a party wasn't the smartest thing I could be doing, I know. As if she would magically appear, I swayed a little where I sat on the porch step glancing around for Letha-- I remember her smiling at me when we walked in together, but... wait, had she actually? Maybe she hadn't? Maybe that was someone else? Or maybe I just wanted her to smile, so I made it up? You'd believe me, wouldn't you? You'd have no choice but to. 

You have no choice but to see what's gonna unfold tonight through my eyes, actually. And maybe I'm finally talking directly to you because I can't deal with it all alone?

... Don't click away just yet, please. 

Stay, just a little longer.

Yes, you.

I made sure to drink the last few drops left of my rosé before saying bye to the quietness of Jasmine's front porch. My steps were heavy as I dragged my feet back into the house, yet the soundwave that hit me when I opened the door nearly knocked me to the ground nonetheless-- it didn't take long before my head started pounding to the beat of the music again.

All I knew, was that I needed to look busy. I needed to not stay too long in one place, just in case I'd run into people I didn't want to run into; I was still a bit scarred from my hellish prom-night, where I hadn't managed to get away from Daniel when he dragged me down the hall. However, he wasn't here tonight, so my biggest evasions were Letha and Roman. Sometimes, you just have to be drunk and miserable in peace, no?

Instinctively, I toyed with the vial of Roman's blood around my neck for comfort, letting the chain slip through my fingers; I had missed the weight of it. Missed the feeling of having him so close to my heart. I twisted it in the light-- red, gleaming, sharp. It had felt right to wear it tonight, and I thought it would serve as a comfort (and it did), but at the end of it all, I was still at a party I didn't want to be at.

The music was too loud. The lights were too bright. Everything moved too fast, or maybe too slow?-- I couldn't tell. I wasn't even sure of anything anymore, except that this place smelled like beer and sweat and smoke, and I put away my rosé on a nearby table and switched it with an unopened cider a bit further away. As long as no one caught me stealing, I could get away with it, right? Now that I was at it, I also grabbed the jacket closest to me hanging on the rack in the hallway, wrapping it around me despite it not being mine-- the weight of it nearly made it stumble, yet I persisted.

The cider was cold in my hand, and shockingly so. Nonetheless, I slipped it into the pocket of my jacket as I choked back a drunk hiccup-- it was only when a couple stumbled past me, bumping into me rather harshly, that I realized I had to get away from the main event of the party, which was downstairs.

I felt so dead. So, so dead. My body was simply dead weight-- dead, dead, dead. Broken. I couldn't handle this feeling, so I climbed the stairs, clutching the banister like it was the only thing anchoring me to this earth. My legs felt heavy, but my brain felt heavier, and every step echoed through my skull. Thud. Thud. Thud. I stopped halfway up because-- I don't know? I forgot why I was going up in the first place. There was an empty spot at the top of the stairs, a place where the purple lights didn't reach, where the music was muffled, where I could pretend for a second that I wasn't completely falling apart. So I slumped down, pulling the jacket tighter around me as if it could protect me from the cold that had nothing to do with the air.

And that's when I felt it-- the pack of cigarettes in the pocket. 

Not mine. 

Roman's.

It took me a good few seconds before I realized I had picked his jacket out of all the people that had put them away on the rack, and I could only groan. Suppressing another hiccup, my fingers brushed against the familiar cardboard, the worn edges, and the faint scent of cinnamon that clung to the paper. With some further rummaging in the pockets, I found his blood-red lighter, yet the back of it felt rougher than before; I had held it out for him several times, you see.

I flipped it, holding my breath--

Only to realize that Roman had carved our initials into the back of it.

After all the times he had made fun of me for doing that exact thing to a tree a while back, I could only huff at the irony as some people stepped over my body to get up the stairs. The thumping of my head only worsened, because honestly? In this state? It felt like an invitation. Roman could've literally carved I-know-you-stole-my-jacket-so-take-a-smoke-you-pretty-little-fucker, and it would've been the same thing. Or did the carvings make it more private? Should I maybe not be touching this at all?

... Fuck it.

I took one out, hands trembling like a damn idiot, and lit it. The flame flickered, tiny and fragile, and I stared at it like I was seeing fire for the first time.

Then, I inhaled--

And holy fucking shit, you wouldn't believe how awful it was. Sharp and spicy and bitter, and it clawed at my throat like it wanted to kill me. Maybe that's what Roman secretly wanted? To kill me with these fucking cigarettes? I coughed, choking on the smoke, but I didn't stop. I took another drag, then another, until my head was spinning and my chest felt tight, and I didn't care. I wanted to feel it-- the pain of it all. I wanted it to be physical, wanted it to kill me. I wanted it to set my lungs ablaze, and I wanted it to burn me up from the inside with slow and tortuous flames.

Pained, I sat there, legs pulled up against my chest, with the cigarette between my fingers like it belonged there, and I let the smoke sting my eyes, sting my lungs. Over and over, I told myself it was just the smoke that made me want to cry... nothing else. 

And then, of course, of fucking course, I saw him.

Appearing into the hallway with a careless laugh, I watched Roman through the banister of the stairs, standing there like some kind of vision, like the universe just wanted to punish me for giving in to a sinful cigarette. He hadn't seen me-- not yet. But I couldn't take my eyes off him, couldn't stop the way my heart leapt and sank all at once. He looked beautiful. Terrible. The kind of beauty that ruins you. Dark hair, unruly shirt, his eyes flickering with something I couldn't read from across the room; and then I saw who he was with. 

Jessica was there, breathlessly clinging to Roman. My Roman. It was clear that she revelled in the arm he had lazily draped over her shoulders, and she giggled as her hand clutched at his shirt like he was the best thing that had ever happened to her, like she was blessed to be getting even a sliver of his attention. 

But Roman wasn't looking at her, not really.

No-- he was scanning the room like he was waiting for something, someone.

And when his eyes found mine, everything stilled. The music, the voices, the haze of smoke and bodies; all of it faded when our eyes locked.

I froze on the stairs, the cigarette hanging between my fingers-- I inhaled, slow and deep, trying not to fall apart, and exhaled like it could push him out of my system as I refused to look away.

But Roman didn't move. Not yet.

It was subtle-- the way his mouth curved, not quite a smile, not quite a sneer. For a second, I thought he was proud to see me smoking, finally, until the glint in his eyes turned sharp, predatory. He glanced at Jessica like he had forgotten she was there, and in that split second, I knew.

And you know what's gonna happen now, too, don't you?

Roman shifted, turning toward her, and his hand came up-- fingertips tracing her jaw, slow, almost lazy, just like he used to touch me. Jessica leaned in, her eyes fluttering closed, hungry for him, oblivious to who, what, she was keening against. 

And then he kissed her, right there, right in front of me.

Deeply. Lovingly.

Roman's plush lips moved against hers, his hand tangled in her hair, and the sight of it was absolutely brutal-- it was the kind of kiss meant to calm someone, to soothe them, to show them you love them, and it was exactly how he used to kiss me. The sight of it nearly made me throw myself down the stairs, my body aching with the pain and betrayal of it all, but the kiss wasn't about her; it would never be about her.

Because the whole time, Roman's eyes stayed locked on me.

I couldn't look away, not when he commanded my attention in this way. He kissed her like he was punishing me, like this was the type of psychological warfare-discipline I needed to properly understand that I wanted him just as much as he wanted me. And all I could do was sit there like the pathetic fucking loser I was, the cigarette burning down to the filter, smoke stinging my eyes, my throat, my heart. I felt myself grab at the vial of his blood tucked away under my shirt; I couldn't look away, but I couldn't stand to watch it, because I wasn't just watching him destroy me-- I was letting him.

When Roman finally pulled back (after a millennia passed, surely), Jessica looked dazed, like she'd just realized she was the luckiest girl in the world, her lips swollen and red. But Roman didn't even glance at her-- his thumb brushed his own bottom lip, that wicked smirk carved into his face, and he stared at me like he knew exactly what he had done.

He wanted me broken-- broken enough to come running right back. 

But I wasn't going to break this quickly.

It took everything that I had in me to get up, yet I somehow managed. With a shaky breath, and with my heart actively falling apart, I slid up along the wall for support, hoping I wouldn't fall right down the stairs-- I wasn't exactly making it easier for myself, because I was simultaneously throwing away my used cigarette and lighting a new one. 

Wrapping myself further up in Roman's jacket, I let the cigarette hang loosely from my lip as I hoisted my arm up to raise my middle finger at him.

Roman chuckled, clearly having expected it, before responding with draping his arms around Jessica, cupping her face as she continued talking up at him, oblivious that he was having a stare-off with me. Roman dragged his fingers through her golden locks like he loved her above anyone else in the world, urging me to come down and fight for his attention, for him, for us--

But God, he was insufferable. I could see it all the way from here; he was mouthing come on.

Come here. 

I know you want to.

... And I really wanted to, believe me. 

But instead, I snorted, rolled my eyes, and shook my head-- and this turned out to be one of the worst ideas of the night. Shaking my head in this state, full of nicotine and rosé, was certainly not one of my brightest moments. With quick steps, I turned around on my heel and marched up the stairs, away from Roman and his fucked up antics as the back of my throat filled with acid. I couldn't throw up on the stairs, now, could I?

The first bathroom I found ended up being occupied, hence why I stormed into the kitchen on the second floor-- how massive was this house? I had never seen a kitchen on any floor but the first. In retaliation of what Jasmine had done to me earlier this year, I stumped my new cigarette on the wall and dragged it along the tapestry, wasting it. My thoughts were racing with how infuriating Jasmine's stupid house was, and how pissed she'd be when she saw how I had trashed her wall, but I pushed my way to the sink, hunching over it just in case I was about to barf up my whole left lung.

The kitchen was loud, hot, too hot, and filled with the thump of the party music bleeding in from the living room. It pounded through the walls, muffled the laughter around me, and people shouting over the music blended into a hum that made my temples ache-- I was two seconds away from bursting into tears.

Thankfully, my only source of comfort appeared behind me with a soothing hand on my back, reaching for my hair as I leaned over the sink; Letha. Her touch gave me a major deja vu from the night Roman and I first kissed, when she had held my hair back when I felt sick.

Roman and I-- kissing.

Roman... kissing.

Roman kissing Jessica.

I let myself gag at the memory as tears welled in my eyes. "There, there," Letha cooed, bending down to catch the look on my face. I wondered whether she smelled the cigarettes on me, or whether she had noticed the fact that I was wearing Roman's jacket. "What's got you like this, hm? You just disappeared, and now..." She leaned in, sniffing me. "Girl, you smell like a bombed whorehouse! Who have you been hanging around? Jack?"

The memory of Jack Edwards almost made me laugh-- I caught myself, fighting back the acid in my throat as I made sure the vial of Roman's blood was safely tucked beneath my shirt and out of Letha's sight. "I drank the whole bottle of rosé," I confessed.

"What? You had barely touched it the last time I saw you, how on earth did you manage?" Letha's laugh was teasing, her voice laced with that soft concern she always wore like perfume. Heavy. Suffocating. I wondered whether this was how it felt like to live in East Germany after the Second World War-- watched.

"I don't know," I muttered, placing my hand over the vial again. If I really focused, I could imagine that it was beating, like Roman's caged blood was still pumping to his heart. "I don't feel good."

Letha hummed, patting my back over and over. "You can take it just a little more, though, right...? I told Jack you felt bad about what happened on the bleachers the other day, and he still wants to have a chat with you!--"

"No!" I sucked in a sharp breath, gagging on the vomit threatening its way up my throat. Grabbing the counter to steady myself, I rocked back and forth to keep myself grounded.

Yet Letha pressed on as she pushed people away from the sink; this party was way too damn crowded. "But Jack could be the perfect distraction for you!" she insisted. "He's cute, he's kind, he's nothing like Roman, he's!--"

"I said no!" Jack hadn't told Letha that Roman and I had fucked; that was all that mattered to me. Nonetheless, I somehow managed to not throw up when I straightened up, taking deep breaths as I turned to her. "You're really fucking insistent, do you know that?"

Letha raised an eyebrow, setting her drink down with a soft clink. "Christ, what's wrong now?"

I didn't answer right away, hoping my offence would sift through my fingers. The question hung heavy and loaded in the air, too simple, too dismissive. The noise of the party pressed in from all sides, but here, with her, it felt like we were in a vacuum, the tension building by the second, and just for a moment, I had the oddest thought-- Letha would've been a good KGB agent. Her interrogation techniques could be polished, sure, but somewhere in that blonde girl was an intense, manipulative Russian. 

... God, I was way too drunk.

With a sigh, I leaned back over the sink, trying to keep myself steady. "Guess I'm just tired, Letha--"

"Tired from what, smoking?" Letha tilted her head, the faintest smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "I can smell it on you, y'know? You smell like a Godfrey. Is this about Roman again?"

Something about her tone set my teeth on edge. I didn't answer, but my silence said enough; I was afraid I'd start barking if I opened my mouth.

"Are we really going back to this?" Letha huffed, softly, like she was doing me a favour, like she hadn't been the one dragging knives across my heart for weeks. "How many times do I have to tell you that you need to start taking active steps to get over him? It's like you never listen! My words go in one ear and out the other!"

I felt the first sparks of anger flare in my chest, hot and sudden; "You've told me a lot of things,"

"What's that supposed to mean?!--"

"It means," I hissed, gripping the counter so hard my knuckles were going white. "That I don't think you've ever really been honest with me. Not about him, not about anything."

Letha let out an offended laugh before her smile vanished-- the look on my face was unmistakeable, and it set her off. "I've always been honest with you, unlike what you have been with me!"

"Bullshit. Do you really not get it, or are you just pretending as always?"

Her brows knit together; "Pretending?"

"Yeah, pretending. Like how you pretended to support me, to be my friend, to have my back? I've let you do this for weeks!" My chest tightened, each word tumbling out sharper than the last. "God, Letha, you reacted like I murdered someone when I told you about Roman and I! I was honest with you, I fessed up, and you basically spat in my face!"

Every inch of Letha seemed to tighten. "You're drunk," she said through gritted teeth. "Calm down, please, before you throw up all over yourself!--"

"Oh, fuck you,"

"... What?!"

I had to suppress a grin; I had waited too long to say that. 

Letha's mouth opened slightly, stunned. She glanced around the party, making sure no one was catching the verbal beating she was taking-- I knew she'd care if someone noticed. She'd care a lot. "You know why I reacted the way I did!" she hissed, lowering her voice as she got closer to my face. "He's been getting with my friends for ages, and you were getting yourself into something dangerous!--"

"No!" I cut her off, voice rising along with my nausea. "No, I told you about it because I trusted you! I didn't lie, I came clean to you, and fucking hell, Jesus treated Judas better than you treated me!--" 

My yelling, along with the mix of rosé and cigarettes, finally pushed my body over the edge. Gagging, I threw myself over the sink to finally throw up; "O-Oh, fuck!--" The concoction that left me was beyond anything I had ever secreted. All my pain, all my anger, balled up into whatever the fuck it was that left my mouth. 

Immediately, Letha's hands flew to my hair, holding it back as I threw up in Jasmine's sink. Despite our fight, despite the verbal abuse, she was still making sure I was alright-- it made my heart ache. Everything about this night was tearing at my heart, actually; images of Roman kissing Jessica flashed before my eyes as my body burned. Was I maybe about to have a heart attack? I was surely susceptible of one.

As I cried into the sink, sobbing with pain, Letha traced soothing patterns into my back, hushing me gently. "Shh... You'll be alright," she tried. "I know it feels like your world is ending, but you'll be alright. Someday, you won't even remember this."

My chest felt like it was caving in on itself. How could I ever forget any of this? How could I ever forget Roman?

"I'm sorry if I've been a bad friend," Letha continued, carefully stroking through my hair. "I hope you can forgive me... and I hope that we can someday forgive each other. Because at the end of all of this, through it all, all I ever wanted was for us to be friends again, and... for me to have someone in my court if everything goes down." Her words were small, fragile; "I just wanted my friend back."

I garnered the strength to look back at Letha, heart pounding, and before I could think it through, my drunken confession came tumbling out; "I slept with him,"

Letha's eyes rounded out as she slowly let go of my hair. "What?" she breathed.

"Yeah," My words were quiet as I pulled my shirt down to expose the hickey on the peak of my shoulder. "On the library floor, a week ago." I was sure she could spot the outline of the vial around my neck as I adjusted the jacket draped around me-- I could see in Letha's eyes that everything in her mind was actively falling apart.

And therefore, I delivered the final blow; "Can you forgive me now? Truly, Letha?"

The silence between us that followed was crushing, all-taking. It felt like I had been sucked into a plastic bag, with the air being drained with me stuck inside of it. Letha's lips parted, ready to speak, yet I saw that she couldn't find the right words to say.

But what followed would flip the narrative completely. 

"Yeah... I can," 

My face ticked, and I felt my eye twitch as my words left me with my next breath; "What?" The music pounded through the walls, bass-heavy and relentless. Voices swelled, laughter spiked, but here, in the dim glow of the kitchen, everything felt suffocatingly small. My stomach was still twisting, nausea rolling in waves as I clutched the counter-- what was happening?

Letha's breath was unsteady, but when she spoke again, her voice was calm and unshaken. "I can forgive you," she repeated, like she was offering me the grandest admission of mercy.

I blinked at her, the words catching somewhere in my throat.

With a sigh, Letha brushed nonexistent dust off her dress before smoothing down her hair. "Because that's what friends do. We forgive, even when it hurts... And you're my best friend, so this time, I forgive you," 

Somewhere behind us, someone let out a shriek of laughter, bottles clinking in celebration. My head was spinning, my stomach churning from more than just the alcohol-- this felt wrong. Was this really happening?

Letha tilted her head slightly, watching me struggle. "I'm not going to pretend this doesn't hurt," she admitted, voice barely audible over the chaos outside the kitchen. "But I mean it. I just want you to be okay, and it's okay to... slip up, I guess. You're human, unlike a big part of him." She took a step back, giving me space-- she was the gracious one here, as always. "Because that's what friends do, right?" Her lips curved, not quite a smile. "We forgive. We put each other first."

The weight of her words settled in my chest in the most unpleasant way possible. "I'm supposed to tell him whether I want to give us another chance," I confessed. "Like... tonight. Right now."

Letha's hand found my back again, fingers light. I was scared she'd get mad, that she'd start cussing me out, but alas... nothing. "Okay, I see," she said, softer now. "I know you love him, but love doesn't change what he is. It doesn't change what he could do to you. Keep that in mind when you make your decision."

I swallowed hard, nausea curling tight inside me. Did I know? Did I really? My grip tightened around the counter; was I getting swayed?

Letha shook her head, her brows knitting together, like she hated to be the one saying this; "You don't have to prove anything. Not to him, not to me. You just... have to do what's right," She sighed, giving me one last careful look. "And I hope you know that I'll be here for you, no matter what."

... Fuck.

Roman's pack of cigarettes felt heavy in my pocket again, and I hated it. Hated the blood-red lighter in the other, next to the cold cider. Hated the way he had carved our initials into it like some twisted promise. But fate had a tight, deadly grip around me that I couldn't get out of-- I somehow managed to wry myself away from Letha and the kitchen with a red solo cup filled with water, downing it as I made my way down the stairs. 

It was time to give Roman an answer-- the answer I didn't want to give him, the one I never thought I'd give him.

I shoved my way down through the crowd with my heart thumping in my chest. Was I gonna find Roman with Jessica? This was giving me an intense case of deja vu from all the times I had actually seen him with other girls, before we ever started dating. Was I gonna catch him making out with Jessica somewhere, even after he had sent me that excruciatingly long voice mail where he could only profess his love for me over and over?

But that wasn't love.

Him kissing Jessica in front of me like that-- that couldn't be love. 

Letha had been right all along, hadn't she?

I pushed through the people dancing in the living room downstairs, trying to ignore the laughter and the small talk that surrounded me. It felt like a different world, one that had nothing to do with me right now. I was desperate for a moment of clarity, and the only person who could give me that was Roman... yet I didn't dare to find him. I didn't want to see him with Jessica. I couldn't bare the sight of it.

I shoved open the back door to the yard, and cold night air hit me like a slap. I welcomed it. The darkness out there was different from the party lights. It was real. Still. Empty.

I wasn't alone for long; I heard footsteps behind me, and the soft, deliberate crunching against the floor of the porch quickly become unmistakeable. The door closed shut as I leaned against the wood structure leading to the garden-- I knew who this was. Letting out a sigh, I reached for the cider in my pocket, cracking it open with a hiss despite knowing I shouldn't have any more drinks tonight. 

The first sip was sharp, bitter, but it cut through the lump in my throat I got from knowing Roman was here with me, alone. I let my eyes follow him when he walked into sight, leaning against the wooden frame opposite me with that Godfrey nonchalance I was used to from him. His shirt had been tucked back in, his hair had been combed back into place-- something told me he had prepared to corner me since he watched me leave with his jacket. 

Roman's eyes were so mesmerizing, so green. It was the most beautiful shade of green. It was such a shame to see them glossed over by that searching look in them, the exact look that gave away his hidden anxiety. Finally, he spoke, nodding to my drink with his usual charm; "I don't think you should be having more of those," 

It only made me clutch the cider harder, steading my footing on the porch so that I wouldn't tumble into the grass to my side. "Fuck off,"

"Oh, yeah? You wanna go there?"

"Yeah," After seeing him kissing Jessica like that? Sure. 

Roman rolled his eyes, clenching his jaw to stop himself from arguing back right away. He looked so strict like this-- it was painfully arousing. He plucked the bottle from my grasp with ease, lifting it to his lips as if daring me to stop him; his smirk widened when I didn't.

Forfeiting my cider allowed me to dip my hand back into my pocket and fish out the lighter and the cigarettes. Roman's eyes widened as he watched me put two cigarettes in my mouth, about to light them both, before he snatched one of them from between my lips; "Careful, there," he said, throwing it away somewhere. "Don't get too excited. You'll go into nicotine shock."

"Don't care," I lit the one I had left, but not without glaring at him properly. "I already threw up tonight."

"You did?"

"Yeah,"

"Oh, you fragile thing," he cooed, amused. "You're going to ruin yourself like this."

I bet that some part of him would've loved to see that. I snorted; "Don't care," 

Roman's brows drew together when he realized I was completely serious, when he saw that my empty look wasn't wavering. "Yeah... I got that," He mumbled, shaking his head. "Jeez, you're dramatic tonight."

I let the silence stretch as I simply glared at him; if he thought this was me at my most dramatic, then he didn't know me at all.

Roman watched me, waiting for me to argue, to snap at him, to give him something to work with. When I didn't, his smirk faltered and his voice softened; "What is this, then, hm? You trying to prove a point?"

I inhaled deeply. "Nah, that's your way of doing this," The smoke burned, stung my throat, but I needed it, needed something to hold onto as my pulse pounded against my ribs; it made my pain about his kiss with Jessica physical. I needed it to be, so my brain wouldn't fry itself.

Roman sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Listen, I get it, alright? You're mad about Jessica. You wanna play hard to get, fine. But let's cut the bullshit, cause you're not going anywhere," He said it like it was a fact, like it was already decided-- "Not really."

He was so sure of it.

So sure of us.

I couldn't look at him anymore. I couldn't watch Roman fall apart all over again when he would realize what I had chosen, not when I was still so irrevocably angry with him. My gaze fell to the floor as I remained silent, waiting for it to dawn on him. 

Roman's smirk wavered in the cold night air. He searched my face, waiting for the usual pattern-- for me to scoff, roll my eyes, shove him and say something biting but not final.

... I did none of those things.

His fingers twitched with nervous anticipation. "You're mad," he said, slower this time. "Say something. Humour me, yeah? Pretend that you actually love me, just for a second."

"Fuck you,"

"Baby, come on—"

"Don't say I don't love you. If I didn't, I wouldn't be standing here after you pulled that crap with Jessica just now! If I didn't love you, I would be inside running around to find Jack,"

Roman's green eyes widened— was it the shock of the threat, or the fact that he had made that threat a reality he had to fear? The party seemed so far away, and our life together felt even further away than that. "I'm sorry about Jessica," he breathed. "You know it's nothing personal, you know I can't stand her guts. I just thought you'd... I thought it would be good to show you what life's gonna be like if we don't end up together."

I almost chuckled-- did he really think that was a good plan? Did he really think that'd work? My eyes darted to the cigarette between my fingers while I wondered whether or not to torture myself with another drag. "You wanted to show me that you'll go back to sleeping with the cheerleaders while I become a chain-smoker?" I snarked. "Sounds like a wet dream of yours."

"That's not what I meant!—"

"What did you mean, then?!"

"I don't!— I don't want to keep talking about this!" Roman flailed his arms, frustrated; "It's not relevant, because we're not going to be apart, and because we're going to my place later and!-- and you're going to fall asleep next to me again, and your hair will be all over my pillow in the morning, and we're going to be okay!"

Oh, how I wanted us to be.

But the way he described it made me realize he might've not fully developed his consequential thinking. Did he really think that was a realistic end of this night after what he had done?

I felt tongue-tied by my shock, frozen like an icicle to Jasmine's stupid porch. What he had just described, was all I wanted. I wanted to go to Roman's place later, wanted to feel his arm around me as he pulled me closer in his slumber, and I wanted to lie around in bed while fighting sleep to get a few more minutes with him. Swallowing hard, I did my best to waft away the memories flashing before me, yet I soon realized it was an impossible task. 

Roman's eyes rounded out with his next breath, his heart visibly breaking--

"Cause... you're choosing us, right?"

My mouth repeatedly opened and closed, stuck. How could I, after everything?

Meanwhile Roman's gaze flickered over my mine, searching for some confirmation, some reassurance that I was just being difficult, that I was still his-- it was a heartbreaking sight. It only made me grip the cigarette tighter, feeling the heat against my fingers. It was dying out, just as I was, just as we were.

Something cracked in Roman's expression. "You're serious," he breathed.

It broke me to realize that I was. 

This had to end.

It had to.

Roman's face hardened as he took a step closer. The air between us thickened, turning heavy with something more than just tension-- something sharp, something raw. "You're seriously doing this?" he muttered, the disbelief in his tone prevailing. "After everything? After all of this time, you just-- we're done? Like that?"

My throat was too tight, and all the words got trapped inside. In a way, it felt like I was choking on everything said and unsaid.

Roman's hands were clenched, and the tension in his shoulders made him seem even taller, more imposing. A part of me was scared he'd pounce, that he'd be overcome by whatever upir instincts he had beneath his pretty appearance-- I didn't want to think about it. I was afraid I'd scream and run away if I did. To distract myself, I put my cigarette out on the ledge nearby; I didn't care about the state of Jasmine's house.

I wasn't sure whether my quiet motions read as nonchalance, but it seemed to shove Roman closer to the edge. "You're pushing me away, even after all my fucking reassurance? Even after your voicemail? I gave you everything, I showed you that I'm nothing to be scared of, and you're just... walking away like I'm nothing, over some kiss? Did you ever even love me?"

That question knocked the air out of me. "Some kiss?!"

"Yes!"

"Roman you've— you've proven yourself to be exactly who I feared you'd be all along!" I yelled. "Someone who hurts me!"

Desperate, Roman grabbed my arm, his grip tight, but not enough to hurt. His eyes searched mine, pleading-- "Come on," he begged, his voice shaking now. "I love you. I really fucking love you."

"No! Because you if truly did love me, you wouldn't be hurting me as a means to get back together with me! You're a child!" I snapped, finally giving in to my frustrations. Drunkenly trying to wry myself out of his grip, I felt my tears burn in my eyes, blurring my vision. "This has to end! You and I, it has to end! Letha's right, you will always want to fuck the cheerleaders, and you will always be a upir, and that will never change!--"

My breath stopped in my chest-- fuck. 

Letha.

It was the first time I had verbally confirmed it, and I knew I had shot myself in the foot with it.

The name hung in the air like poison, and Roman looked like he'd been gutted by it.

He stared at me for a long, horrible moment, his eyes wide with disbelief. His grip loosened around my wrist; "You--" he started, his voice hoarse. "You're... serious? So that's it? You're throwing us away because of her? Because of the shit she's been feeding you to take revenge on me?!"

"It's not all because of her, Roman, but she's right! Letha is right that you'll always be dangerous, that you'll always have some underlying urges, and that you'll never be safe to be around!" My voice cracked as I said it; there it was, a cold, harsh truth I couldn't ignore anymore. "You said you'd never hurt me, but you're like a ticking fucking bomb in more aspects than I can count on my fingers!"

That was it; Roman snapped, his fist slamming into the wooden structure I was leaning against with a deafening crack, making it shake. "Bullshit!"  

The boom of it made me flinch and squeak in terror, and instinctively, my hands shot out to push him away, shoving him with all the strength I could muster in my panicked state. "You're scaring me again!" I yelled, heaving for air. "Stop it! I beg you, just stop it!"

Stunned by his own outburst and its consequence, Roman allowed me to push him. He could've planted himself to his spot, could've resisted with no problem, but he took a step back for my comfort.

My heart was pounded against my ribs as tears filled my eyes. I couldn't have him barging at me like that, not when I was this hurt, scared, and drunk. A man that truly loved me wouldn't be doing this, right? My legs shook with the remnants of the heaviness of the conversation, and I heaved for air with terrified gasps as I decided to turn on my heel.

Immediately, Roman went into action-- "Wait, please!" His voice instinctively softened as he rummaged through his brain for the best course of action. "I'm sorry, okay?! I just don't want to lose you, I'm freaking out here!" He reached out for me, but it was too late. 

I was already backing away, not looking back, not waiting for any more apologies— I knew I wouldn't believe them anymore. 

Even the heaviness of Roman's jacket couldn't slow me down, not when I was this desperate to get away from my terrifying breakup-- the sound of music and chatter met me when I opened the door back to the house, but the pounding of my heart nearly drowned it all out. 

Roman's voice followed me inside, each word an attempt to reel me back, but I wasn't turning around. I couldn't look at him; I couldn't do that to myself.

"Come on!" he yelled through the deafening noise. "Are we really doing this again?!"

I made my way through the living room, not looking for anything but an escape. The staircase loomed ahead, and without thinking, I shot up the stairs, taking them two at a time as my legs shook with adrenaline and fear. The air in the house felt suffocating now, the walls closing in as I reached the top of the stairs and darted down the hallway. This was not happening. This was not happening. I was too drunk for this-- were the walls actually moving? The more I looked at them, the more I had a feeling they were pulsing, inching closer to squeeze me to death.

Speaking of death-- Roman's footsteps grew closer, and his voice got louder; "Please, we can fix this! Just hear me out, please!—"

With my heart hammering in my chest, I glanced back to calculate how long I had until he caught up to me. Panicked, I grabbed at every room in the hallway, pushing past the people blocking my way as I desperately suppressed my tears from running down my cheeks.

This was not happening. 

This was not happening.

Roman dragged a hand through his hair, angry, desperate, as his long footsteps allowed him to chase me down with ease. "You're making a mistake!" he pleaded. "Let's talk it out, okay? Please, please, just listen, I love you, I'll calm down, I'm not going to hurt you, I promise!--"

With a scared squeak, I finally managed to force a door open; thank fuck. But before I could even step fully into the room, Roman's leg shot forward, forcing the door back, and in an instant, I realized there was no way I could keep him out-- I stumbled backward, eyes wide and frantic as I turned away from him to start planning my escape.

And then, my breath caught.

Because what I saw inside the room, was Letha half-naked on the bed-- 

With Peter beneath her.

My body froze for a split second before a scream ripped itself from my throat; I shrieked, mortified as I stumbled backwards.

What...

... The fuck?!

Letha and Peter scrambled to untangle themselves, their eyes widening with panic as they tried to hide the obvious. Peter's shirt was half undone, and Letha's hair was a mess, both of them completely caught off guard. The sight of them in that moment, exposed and guilty, made my chest tighten in a way I couldn't describe; I knew exactly what I had just walked in on. 

And Roman, in a blur of motion, rushed forward-- his arms wrapped around me from behind, pulling me to his chest with surprising force. One hand covered my eyes, blocking my view of the chaos I had just walked in on to shield me. "What the fuck?!" he barked, kicking the door shut behind us. "What's this?!"

My mind was actively melting against Roman's chest. It didn't help the situation that I could smell his usual cologne better than ever— God, I'd miss that smell in the coming years, wouldn't I?

But Peter and Letha were still scrambling, wide-eyed, and before they could say anything, Roman continued; "Are you out of your fucking minds?!"

Was this maybe just a drunk hallucination of sorts? Was this really happening? Letha and Peter? I should've listened to Jack earlier this week-- I should've listened to myself, because I had suspected something for a while, hadn't I? 

Peter was the first one to talk, visibly panicking; "Ro, calm down!--"

"Don't fucking tell me to calm down! What the fuck are you doing with my cousin, man?!"

"Letha and I were just!--"

"Yeah, I see what you were just doing, you filthy piece of shit!"

"Dude, I'm sorry, I tried to tell you! Over and over, I swear, I tried to!--" 

"Tell me what?! Is this not a one time thing? Is that what all your bullshit has been about?!" Roman yelled. "You calling me at prom and then not saying shit? All the times you've said you were busy when I knew you were just at home?" I could feel his chest raise with the air he forced inside his lungs-- a part of me was scared he'd faint from the anger. "You've been fucking my cousin?!"

"And you've fucked all the friends I've ever had!" Letha yelled back, protecting Peter while struggling to straighten her dress. Then she pointed to me, eyes drilling into Romans'; "I begged you not to touch her all those months ago too, but you didn't listen either!" 

A sick laugh ripped from Roman's throat, and when he finally pulled his hand away from my face, I saw it; the pure, unfiltered rage in his expression. "You have got to be fucking kidding me!" He stepped forward, eyes locking onto Letha. "You have been in her ear for weeks-- weeks!" He jabbed a finger toward me, his voice breaking slightly. "You've been telling her to stay away from me, telling her I'm dangerous, that I'll hurt her, while you've been making my life a living hell for the same thing that you have been doing too all along!"

"Roman, I!--"

"You sick fuck!" he barked, and the sheer volume of it made me flinch.

My head was spinning to the point where I thought I'd throw up again. It felt like a painful vibration in the front of my brain, and I squeezed my eyes shut as I pressed my palm to my forehead. Without thinking, I put my free hand on Roman's arm, silently telling him to give me a second. "How long has this been going on?" I tried.

Peter and Letha anxiously glanced at one another, looking like they were both ready for the world to swallow them whole. "I don't--" Letha started.

"-- Don't know," Peter mumbled, looking guilty as ever. "Three months? Maybe four?-- Ouch!"

Letha smacked his arm, visibly upset that he had admitted that. "Stop talking! You've already stressed me out with wanting to tell Roman about us, you've done enough!"

"He deserves to know!" Peter tried. His brown eyes were big with disgrace; "I told you I didn't want to hide this, I told you he might understand!"

This kicked Roman into the next gear. "Understand...? Understand?!" The boom of his voice made Peter turn white, and Letha grabbed the sheets of the bed as though they would somehow shield her. "Dude, you're fucking my cousin! I could rip your fucking head off right now if I wanted to, and you best believe that I do!--"

In timely manner, I suddenly gagged, clasping a hand over my mouth; that thankfully shut everyone up for second. This was too much for one night.

"She's gonna throw up," Letha mumbled. In true Godfrey fashion, she used this as an opportunity to start slowly scooting toward the edge of the bed, hoping for an easy escape. "We need to get her back to the kitchen sink, and then we can all talk about this when she feels better in a few days!--"

My hand shot up into the air, holding my pointer up as I recovered.

It was a very clear sign of shut up.

Shut.

Up.

I straightened my back, feeling my eye twitch with newfound anger. "Is that what you meant earlier, Letha?" I asked, my voice frail and quiet, yet steady. "When you said you wanted to have someone in your court if everything went down? Have you... been setting everything up for this?"

The silence in the room was deafening. 

Letha swallowed hard; "Look, I just--"

"Have you been breaking Roman and I up so that I'd be on your side?" I continued, cutting her off. "You knew that Peter was going to tell Roman about you two eventually. And when he'd find out, you... needed me to be your friend again so that you wouldn't be alone. Because this will... this will cost you everything, Letha." 

I gagged again at the realization-- Roman's arm shot forward to catch me from tumbling. I held onto him, feeling the tears press on in my eyes. "You didn't want to be friends with me," I breathed, my words coming out as clear whispers. "You just needed someone that was isolated. I was vulnerable, I was scared, and I was perfect for your plan, wasn't I?"

Letha's lips parted, but no words came out. She was staring at me, the usual sharpness in her eyes replaced with something I had never seen before-- guilt. Real guilt. Not the performative, self-righteous kind she always weaponized, but something raw, something vulnerable.

I could barely stand to look at her.

"Oh my God," I whispered, turning away from the scene. "You planned all of this."

Letha shook her head, frantic. "No!-- I mean, not like that, I!--"

"You what? What now?!" Roman snapped, stepping closer to the bed. His presence was suffocating, his fury burning through the room like wildfire. "You're always talking about morals, and you're always acting like you're so much better than me, but look at what you've done! So tell me, Letha, where's your moral high ground now?"

Letha's breathing was ragged, frozen in the most mortifying moment of her life. She looked back at Peter like he could somehow save her, but he just rubbed his face, looking more done than ever. "This is so fucked..." he muttered under his breath, almost like he was annoyed.

Roman's attention snapped back to him in an instant. "Oh, you think this is fucked?" He let out a humorless laugh; "You didn't even have the fucking balls to tell me yourself! You knew that Letha's been making my life hell while you've been doing God knows what with her behind my back!"

"It's not that simple!" Peter barked, scooting forward on the bed to shield Letha and give her space to breathe. "We've-- I've been into Letha for longer than I can remember!"

Letha immediately protested, and her face turned more and more red by the second; "Stop talking, stop talking, I swear to God! I'm going to die of a heart attack at this rate!" 

But her pleas didn't stop Peter. He was ready to fess up, just like he had been for a while, now. His shoulders slumped as his eyes locked with Roman's, getting ready to face his biggest secret. "Letha and I used to date, man. We used to be... together-together. She was my girlfriend for a while, but we broke up because we didn't want to hurt you, Ro, and because it was getting out of control. It was just too big of a secret to keep. But then you got together with her..." He nodded to me with a sigh. "And Letha said we were free to do whatever we pleased, and I gave in because..."

Peter turned to face Letha with a sweet shimmer in his eyes-- the type of look I recognized from all the times Roman had looked at me like that. 

"Because I love her," Peter whispered. 

I could only watch as Letha slowly dared to place her hand on top of his, and they exchanged a painfully sincere silent vow. 

The cherry on top for this moment, was when I started loudly gagging-- not because of the sight of them all loved up, but because all the drama, the stress, the alcohol, and the new sensation of nicotine. Acid crawled up my throat as I buckled over, crouching down as I tried to keep my breaths deep and steady; my brain felt like it was shutting down, and probably because it was.

Roman immediately bent down, trying to get on my level, but I wafted him away. He wouldn't be able to comfort me no matter what he did, not after how I had seen him kiss Jessica to get back at me.

I couldn't believe that I hadn't seen the signs. I couldn't believe that I hadn't noticed them being together when it had been right in front of me, all this time. Gathering strength, I spoke; "You're not really going to study philosophy, are you?"

Peter's head darted down to my crouched-over body. "What?"

"When I met you at the library," I breathed. "All that time ago, when you were reading tons of books about guilt...and you said it was because you were going to study philosophy. You've been lying to Roman and I, just like we've been lying to you. After all this fucking time... Fucking hell. We're, like, the shittiest group of people ever."

Roman, who had frozen to his spot in a mixture of disgust and shock, couldn't watch it any longer. His silence was worse than shouting. His chest rose and fell in sharp bursts, his nails dug into his palm, he had bit his teeth together so hard that I feared they might crack. The air in the room had changed; it was suffocating, thick with tension that pressed into my skin.

Peter dared to break it. "Roman--"

"Shut up," he hissed. "Enough."

Peter snapped his mouth shut, looking like he had just walked into traffic. Letha was frozen, her hand still resting on Peter's like she was drawing strength from him.

It didn't matter anymore— I wanted to get out. I needed to get out. Now.

"Rome," I mumbled, voice thin. "I need--"

His head darted to me immediately, and his eyes; God, his eyes. They weren't just angry anymore... they were desperate. He was coming undone too.

Letha seized the opportunity once more. "She needs air," she said quickly, standing up like she could actually be of help. "Let's just-- let's all go back down and talk about this later, okay?"

"Later?" Roman let out a sharp, breathless huff. "You don't get to decide that! Do you really think I'm ever talking to any of you uncouth mongoloids again?"

Letha huffed at the names. "But we should really figure out everything later, because you're about to lose your shit!"

Roman took a threatening step forward, and Peter immediately shifted off the bed to step in front of Letha. It was so instinctive that I nearly threw up all over again-- he truly loved her, didn't he? After all this time? 

"You're protecting her, dude?" Roman snarled, nodding to his cousin. "After everything?"

Peter's expression twisted with something I couldn't quite place. "I don't expect you to get it,"

"Oh, I get it, alright," With a smooth, final move, Roman bent down to help me stand up straight.

I swayed in my shoes, my breath catching in my throat to stop myself from immediately barfing all over the carpet. "I need air," I breathed. "This night has been too much. Too many lies, and one too many upirs-- because I assume he knows?"

Briefly, I glanced over at Peter after spilling the secret, but he only looked more guilty the longer my stare cut through into him. Of course he knew that Roman was a upir. Of course.

Everything blurred together, spinning too fast, and the weight of my decision pressed down on me so hard that I thought I'd collapse. The room was suffocating, the walls were closing in again, and the heat was unbearable-- I just needed to leave, I needed air, I needed space.

So I pushed away from Roman, staggering toward the door. "I can't-- I need to go,"

Enough was enough.

My whole life had fallen apart, and I couldn't do anything to save it. ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

I wrapped myself further up in Roman's heavy jacket as the world around me kept on swaying. I couldn't go home like this. I didn't even know how to get home.

How was I supposed to carry on after everything that had happened tonight?

But life is a tricky thing-- it doesn't let you go until it's your time. So my legs kept carrying me forward, down the driveway, past the parked cars, because I needed to go on. The streetlights above flickered, casting long shadows across the pavement; I barely registered where I was going, only that I needed to move. Somehow, my feet worked faster than my brain did-- I crossed streets without looking, stumbling over cracks in the sidewalk, the distant hum of the party fading behind me as I passed the houses in the neighbourhood.

All of this distracted from the heaviness of my heart.

I had lost everything.

But behind me, just far enough away that I couldn't hear his footsteps, Roman followed. My everything.

He didn't call out to me.

He didn't rush.

He just walked. With his hands tucked into the pocket of his pants, he walked like he was tethered to me by destiny.

And maybe he was? A big part of my believe it, but tonight? Tonight, I couldn't take it. I turned around to face him, my breath unsteady as all my emotions ravaged through my chest; "Could you please stop following me? I can't-- I can't think when you're near,"

Roman came to a slow halt. He swayed slightly, his shoulders slumped, his hair a mess over his face. He looked at me like he wasn't really seeing me at all, like he felt nothing and everything at the same time. Then, in a voice so quiet it barely carried, he muttered, "I just... I don't know what else to do,"

The admission hung between us, hollow and tired. He sounded so wrecked-- something cracked inside me at the sight of him, at the way his lips barely moved when he spoke, at the way he looked like he could fall apart with the wind. He had nothing left to give. Not to me, not to himself, nothing at all.

Looking at him any longer than this would kill me; I knew it. My heart trembled in my chest as my eyes welled with tears at the sight of him. "Me neither," I breathed, turning back around to continue my stride, too drunk to think clearly, too pained by the events of the night.

It didn't take Roman more than a beat to keep following me. What else could he do?

I didn't know where I was going, but a park came into view and seemed like the most peaceful option. The playground, the swings, the hollow quiet of a place meant for children, was abandoned at this hour-- my feet dragged through the wood chips as I made my way toward the middle of it, taking in the quiet of the landscape. Maybe this place would give us peace?

But Roman's steps came to an abrupt stop a few feet away. "Did you know?" he called out. "Are you sure you didn't know about Peter and Letha?"

I turned to look at him then, to really look at him. The streetlights cast shadows across his face— he was in the dark, where he certainly belonged. "I had no idea," I confessed. "I would've told you if I knew."

Roman let out a weak, bitter breath as he ran his fingers through his hair. "This is too much," he choked out. "This night-- I can't take any more of this. I feel like I just died."

A long silence stretched between us, thick with something neither of us could escape. There was no anger in his eyes now, no fire, just hollow emptiness, and I couldn't tell if that was worse. "I'm sorry about Peter," I tried, softening my eyes. "I always knew Letha was a bit of a cunt, but I would've never thought Peter would do something like this to you... I'm sorry."

Roman couldn't look at me anymore-- he raised his chin to look at the pair of crows sitting at the top of a nearby tree. It was at this moment that I saw the tears in his eyes, and the single one that rolled down his cheek. "I don't care about Peter," he breathed. "I don't care about him, I don't care about Letha, I-- I don't care about anything anymore."

My heart hammered in my chest— what?

"I feel at fault, because I should've known," Roman mumbled, his voice full of resignation as he rubbed away his tears with the back of his hand. "I should've known this would all fall apart... because it always does. People always leave. You always leave."

Fuck. "Roman," I whispered. "That's not—"

"I've been running after you, hoping that if I tried enough, if I did more, that you'd choose me... but you won't," he choked out, lower lip quivering. "Not even my best friend chose me. No one ever does, so... I'm done. I can't change what I am. I'll always be a upir, and if you can't trust that I'd rather die than hurt you, then there's nothing more I can do."

Roman turned away, and his shoulders slumped with the realization; at the end of the night, I wasn't the one who made the final decision about us-- it was him. His next breath seemed to be one of pained relief; "I can't keep doing this. Congratulations... You're free. I can't love you anymore. I won't love you anymore," 

He took a final, slow step back. "You're right... this has to end. It's over,"

And then, Roman Godfrey turned around to leave me drunk and alone in a park long past midnight. 

... What?

Roman was done?

He couldn't love me anymore...?

I won't. I won't. I won't.

It echoed all over. It's over. I can't. I won't. But that's surely not how love works? Can someone just decide not to love someone?

My reaction to Roman leaving felt like a stolen breath-- painful, instant. It felt like my words clawed their way out of my mouth, forcing my jaw apart with one quick snap of bones, and exited with one quick, panicked yell; "Wait!"

It echoed through the park.

Over and over.

My hand laid over the vial of his blood which I kept around my neck, feeling it burn into my skin. "Roman, wait!"

... And it's around here that you'd assume this would end, right? 

You're probably holding your breath, waiting for the moment when Roman's gonna turn around hear me out, tell me he loves me after all, that he's gonna forgive me and we'll live happily ever after, blah blah blah--

But this is not that kind of a story. I'm sorry that I made you believe it was.

Do you finally get why I've needed you along with me this time? Why I've been talking directly to you for once?

... No?

Fine. I'll be more clear. I'll show you the rest; I'll show you why.

My breath was stuck in my throat as I anticipated the sound of Roman's voice, the sound of his forgiveness coming out to soothe me. This was probably proper karmic retribution for me, sure, but could this really be the end? 

Now that he was truly walking away, it hit me like a freight train; I didn't want it to end. 

I didn't want to let him go, especially now that he was letting go of me.

It could work, right?

Every nerve in my body screamed at me to move, so I did. When I realized Roman wasn't turning back around, I choked down a brewing sob and hurried to keep up after him. "Rome, please!"

The nickname had him twitching; it was clear that he was upset about his choice, his forced resignation, and the doubt in his body was a consolation to my momentary panic. But in that moment, his head also turned to the side, and I saw something flicker in his eyes. In no time, completely out of the blue, Roman picked up his pace and started walking in a completely different direction like a dog in a fox-chase. His nose flared, his posture shifted-- he wasn't just walking away from me, he was sensing something.

What was happening?

"Wait!" My voice cracked, rising with panic. He wasn't stopping. He really wasn't stopping. "Stop it! Where are you going?!" Would we ever stop chasing each other? "Do you really expect me to be okay so easily after you kissed Jessica like that?! This is-- This is too much pressure, this is insane! Give me a minute to think at least, stop running!"

Roman's movements were so fast, so precise, that it felt like I was trying to catch up to a ghost. The distance between us seemed to stretch, and I could feel my limbs growing heavier with each step, the weight of my emotions and alcohol pulling me down. But I kept going, desperate, with my heart drumming in my ears.

And when Roman finally came to a halt in the outskirts of the park, I lunged forward; I tugged at the sleeve of his shirt, stumbling as I clung to him, forcing him to see me, to hear me. I let out a choked sob against him, desperate to not let go of the man that I loved. "Hear me out, okay?" I cried. "Just give me a second, I'm too drunk to think!"

But Roman didn't react.

Didn't look.

Because his gaze was frozen on something completely different.

There, tucked into one of the small, plastic playhouses, was a shape. A person.

Confused and broken, my gaze followed his. At first, it barely registered-- it was just someone that had passed out, curled up in the cramped space like a drunk trying to sleep it off. It was the kind of thing you might see after a party, someone who never made it home. That was normal; I didn't think much of it, confused by Roman's entrancement, until I recognized the pink clips in the person's hair.

That was Brooke Bluebell, wasn't it?

Fuck-- it was.

Then, I saw the way Roman's face shifted, the way his nostrils flared, the way he inhaled. It immediately made me step away from him and toward Brooke. Something cold crawled down my spine; "Roman?" I whispered, instantly feeling beyond nauseous once again. "Maybe we should?--"

His arm shot out, barring me from moving any closer. "Wait," he snapped, his voice coated with warning and concern.

The smell hit me a second later.

Coppery. Thick.

I gagged when I finally got a proper look, and I stumbled back as the truth crashed over me.

Brooke Bluebell wasn't sleeping.

She was laying in her own blood, her eyes wide open as her drained body looked frozen in a scream-- her intestines had been dragged out of her stomach, scattered along her torso, and her legs were gone, as though mauled from beneath.

Slowly, Roman turned to me, pupils dilated beyond normal; I knew his upir senses were screaming inside his head. "I thought the smell of blood was thicker because you were on your period or something," he breathed. "I thought-- fuck."

My mind was spinning beyond control, and only the sound of our heavy breathing filled the playground until the distant wail of sirens cut through the silence. I flinched, feeling my heart-rate spike; "Shit!-- Roman, we can't be here!" I grabbed his arm, trying to pull him away. "Please! You can't be exposed to this, we've gotta go!"

But Roman didn't move.

He wouldn't.

It was clear that he was trying to drown out whatever his upir senses were telling him to do, and I had no idea how I was supposed to reel him away from the edge. 

The sirens howled closer,  and the wind picked up, scattering the scent of blood into the cold night air.

... Brooke Bluebell was dead.

And we were about to be caught at the scene of her murder.

(a/n: AAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!! WELCOME TO THE PLOT OF BOOK 2! I WILL BE MAKING AN ANNOUNCEMENT THIS WEEKEND, BUT BEFORE THAT--- THANK YOU SO SO SO MUCH MY SWEETHEARTS FOR READING THIS FAR!!🥹🌸 I have been building towards the Letha and Peter reveal since the STARTTTT AHHHH FINALLY IT'S YOURS!!! FINALLY I CAN SHARE IT!!! MY HEART IS YOURS, AND SO IS MY WORK, SO THANK YOU<3333 AND I'M SORRY FOR THIS OH GOD???)

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gameboy

huening kai x fem!reader warnings: 🔞!!! sub!member kinda, hand job, teasing, oral (m!rec), prob forgot some sorry wc: 1.8k an: >< rain sent me an ask about this and I love love love this genre of txt and specifically kai <33 [m.list]

“The machine ate my quarter,” the sound of your voice made Kai jump from his spot behind the counter. The night had been slow, the music only just now dimmed down to let everyone know in the next hour the arcade would be closed. But he had hardly seen anyone all night, even the ticket exchange had been silent, his shift passing with him on his phone or trying and failing to cram the last bit of studying in. 

“O-oh, I can—could you show me the game?” The stutter in his words made you crack a smile, the kind Kai had seen you flash in casual conversation sitting only the row down from him in your shared lecture hall.  

He had watched you pull out your phone time and time again, flipping the camera to face you as you fixed your lip gloss. His eyes darted away from being noticed, but unbeknownst to him, you had caught him every single time. Boys had a tendency to look in your direction, follow the soft end of the applicator trace the line of your bottom lip but none of them had turned away with the same faint blush huening always had on his cheeks. 

The same pink tint that he wore now when you bent more than you should have in a skirt that short, showing him how the game didn't return your change. He fumbled for his keys, hooked to the belt loop of his jeans that suddenly felt too tight over nothing but the flash of your panties. “Sometimes the button gets…” 

He can't even find what he had been trying to say, mind blank with you blinking back at him, “Sticky?” the word only brought back all the times he has watched you with your lip gloss, his eyes falling to your mouth with its teasing smile. 

“I'll get you your coin back, and if you still want to play, it should work fine,” Kai says, bent to one knee, fiddling with the machine to fix it. 

“It's okay it was my last one. My friends left me and I don’t even know how you're supposed to aim on this thing. I swear I've never hit one of these little hearts,” you flicked the toy gun in its holster. It had been the same game you had started the night with, failing twice and giving up only to come back to try to redeem yourself with no luck. 

Kai pulled out a few quarters, holding them palm up for you to take. “Yeah this one always gives people trouble, there is one spot that if you stay aiming at you will at least get half of all the shots you make,” talking about the game felt better than stumbling through a regular conversation, even with him so close to your bare thigh. 

“Really?” you take the coins from him before he locks the machine back up. 

“Just don't tell anyone I told you that,” and when he stands you bend to slip one of the quarters in to try even if you did only make half or all the shots. 

“Could you show me?” the machine rings to life, the little bell like jingle twinkling as you pick up the toy gun. 

Kai didn't know how he had found himself in the position, his front pressed to your back with his hands over yours trying to guide you in the right direction. looking over your shoulder trying and failing to keep some kind of distance between the two of you when he felt like he would tumble over the edge of embarrassment if you inched even a step back. 

He lined up the shot, “Right…here,” his voice soft and whispered right next to your ear, his finger curled around yours on the trigger, pressing down and hitting the target with ease. Your surprised laugh shook your shoulders, your body curving into his like it was second nature. His pants still felt tight, half hard in his jeans like he was some perv and he knew you would notice if you pushed in closer so he tried to pull away but you wouldn't let him. 

You melted into his hold turning your cheek until your noses were close enough to brush, “thank you,” his shuddering breath in response washing over you when you pressed your ass right against him because of course you had caught him, wrapped him up on your webbing like it was your plan all along. “You know I could help you with that,” the ghosting of your lips brushing his only made him harder, the anticipation for something that may or may not happen driving him insane before the game in front of the two of you rings causing both of you to jump. 

His moment was lost as you looked back, his hands falling away from yours, his cheeks and ears burning. The game's screen was saying to call for an attendant, the ticket reel empty and needed to be refilled. 

“I'll be back,” because he couldn't stand around feeling as embarrassed as he did. He knew you had other boys waiting for even a second of your time in the way that he just had. He had not taken charge, had not kissed you instead of pulling away. No, he had gotten hard and stuttered and now he was running away to the supply closet hoping you wouldn't ever tell anyone what had happened. 

The second he was in the small confined storage room he leaned his head on the shelves, trying to catch his breath and cursing at himself. He didn’t even want to think about you waiting there probably texting the friends who had left you there, giggling over the boy who wanted you enough to forget himself. 

His sulking, although internal, felt loud to his own ears, enough so that he did not hear you come in and shut the door behind you until the lock was twisted. The sound of the heavy steel brought him to look at you. 

The low light of the single bulb washed both of you in partial shadow. "Do you need any help?” The redundant question only made him shiver. He needed all the help in the world because you were sliding your hands up his chest, and he couldn't look away from your lips. His nose was already trying to dip closer to yours, and the soft hum of a whimper caught in the back of his throat. 

“Can I kiss you?” the thread of need intertwined in every syllable, snapping when you finally pulled him in closer to you giving him what the both of you wanted. Kai’s body reacted instantly, curving into you, hands sliding down your back, hot and heavy as they pulled your hips in closer to him, enough so that you were utterly flush with him. 

Kai was receptive to every brush of your fingers, one hand threaded between the stands of his hair at the back of his neck, the other making its way down to the bulge in his jeans he was desperately grinding against you as you deepened the kiss he can't pull away from. You fumbled with his zipper, his soft groan ringing in your mouth when you finally tugged it down. “Y-you don't have to-” but he was pressing his clothed cock closer to your palm, begging for more.  

“If you want me to stop all you have to do is say so,” but you slipped a single finger into the waistband of his underwear, running along the elastic, taunting him. 

“Please, don’t stop,” his brow was crinkled just right, eyes pleading with you seconds before he let out a pretty moan, lashes fluttering as you pulled his already leaking cock free from the confines of fabric. 

Never would you have thought that you would have been here with Kai, with him making the sweetest noises you had ever heard over nothing but a few loose strokes. He couldn't keep his gasps quiet enough, the fear of getting caught by anyone was stuck in his mind even if he was one of two workers closing and the door was locked. So he buried his face into the crook of your neck, his breath fanning out over your skin as you giggled, “You're so sensitive,” 

And it was true, his body was trembling. He had never been this hard, this needy. Even his whimpered apologies had never slipped past his lips at this rate but he couldn't help it, not when you knew exactly how to handle him. 

“Don't be sorry,” your soft coo only made his knees weak, “I love to see the way you react to me,” and the only thing that was flickering through your mind was being able to see this vision over and over again, witness it from every angle. You pull away, sinking to your knees in front of him. 

Kai is confused for no more than a second before you're taking him into your mouth, hot and wet enough to make him roll his head back in a throaty moan. Neither of you cares about being loud anymore, not when you’re dragging his tip across your bottom lip, the memory of you and your lip gloss permanently altered in that moment, replaced with this visual. 

Whatever you can't fit into your mouth is taken care of with your hands, the sensation making Kai lean back against the shelves behind him, hair falling back from his forehead while his thighs tremble. He's doing everything he can to keep his hands away from pulling you further down on his cock but it's almost too much when you start to moan. The vibrations race up his spine, one hand curling around your skull as he bucks his hips up into your mouth. 

You don't stop him from pressing further down your throat, your eyes tearing up as you steady your hands on his thighs letting him fuck into you. Kai is brainless, following the feeling of pleasure without realizing that he's found a rhythm brutal enough to nearly choke you before he stutters, hips jerking as he squeezes his eyes shut, “Oh fuck- oh fuck-” the words so foreign to your ears from soft shy kai who was afraid to look at you. 

He twitches against your tongue, hot spurts of his cum salty and welcome as you swallow them down. When you pull away you wrap a loose fist around him, tugging to help him ride out his high, his soft pants mixed with your giggle. 

“I'm sorry I couldn't help myself-” he starts, face flushed and embarrassed before you cut him off. 

“No, don’t be sorry, I like that you can't control yourself around me,” you pull yourself up to stand, kissing along his jaw before whispering in his ear, “Next time you'll be just as good for me, won't you?”

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[yanadolls]

PASSIONATE FROM MILES AWAY ⊹ ࣪ ˖

||| FEATURING: NAGI SEISHIRO X FEM READER

||| 18+, MDNI ── .✦ exchanged nudes, phone sex, video sex, petnames (good girl, angel, sweet girl), cursing, praising, fingering

||| SUMMARY: you've been in an online relationship with nagi for two years, and after today's long soccer game, what better way to spend his night then calling with his cute girlfriend?

you groaned as you curled up in your bed, alone in your apartment. you kept checking discord to see if your boyfriend nagi had come online yet, and checking imessages to see if he read any of your texts.

nothing.

"ugh!"

just as you were about to send a complaint to your best friend about how long your boyfriend was taking to come back from his game, which ended an hour and a half ago, a sudden notification that lit up your screen had your heart leaping with joy.

sei: hi baby :x

excitedly, you immediately clicked on the notification, happy that your lover was finally back. once you were in chat, you clicked on the phone icon and started up a call with nagi, to which he accepted within the first ring. his sleepy yet slightly rough voice made a smile come to your lips, falling back against your mattress as your phone laid in your hand idly. it was difficult sometimes for the both of you since you had been dating online when you both were reliant on touch, but the hope of someday meeting up and living together made it all the more worth it. after all, you both were in your 20s, so soon enough you would be in a physical relationship, right?

"hi baby!" you said with an obvious amount of elation in your voice. it made even the nonchalant nagi smile- you were so cute.

"hi, sweet girl." he yawned, "did you watch my game? i scored a goal for you even though it was kind of a hassle showing off.."

so lazy all the time, wasnt he? it only added to his charm, you thought. of course you had seen his game, and you'd be lying if you said he wasn't hot running around the field, sweat clinging to his forehead and muscles.

"of course i did. you played amazing, sei... missed you so much while you were gone, though."

"missed you, too."

there was a silence over the phone for a moment, before shuffling could be heard on nagi's side, and a sigh leaving his lips. his voice was a bit more lower as he spoke.

"can you send me nudes?"

the sudden question had you almost choking on air, a heat rushing to both your cheeks and in between your legs. he was as blunt as ever, and it flustered you.

"s-seishiro! you can't just..ask that so suddenly!"

the pout on his face could practically be heard through the microphone.

"can't i? we're dating and it's not like i haven't seen you naked before.."

"that's not the point!"

"please, angel...need to see your pretty pussy so badly. won't you reward me for winning my game today?"

a tension started forming over the phone as you felt your breathing labor a bit, plushy thighs clenching together at what thoughts could be going through your sweet boyfriend's mind. his words made a knot form in your stomach, and your decision was easily made.

"fine..okay. i'll send you something.. as long as you send something in return?"

"good girl." he hummed, "and anything for you."

you opened up your private snaps that you had taken a couple days ago for nagi, cringing a bit at the lewd photos. in one of them it was a mirror selfie of you sitting on the edge of your bed in a cute pair of lingerie, while the other two photos were your fingers playing with your clit. you saved the three photos again before selecting them to send to nagi, a shaky sigh of embarrassment leaving your lips before you hit sent. when the photos loaded, a groan was picked up on your boyfriend's end.

"fuck.. you're so sexy, baby. why do you have to be so far from me? 's such a hassle beating my dick when you could be here doing it for me."

your lip trembled at his words, hand snaking down to gently rub your clit through your already dampening panties. you could hear nagi breathing heavily on his side, his large hand fumbling to tug down his shorts and pull out his hardening cock, giving it lazy tugs.

"too lazy to send a pic..lemme just turn on my camera."

as promised, only a couple seconds later his camera began loading, and you were greeted with the delicious sight of his thick cock being stroked slowly up and down. it made your mouth and pussy water. it simply wasn't fair how fucking huge nagi was, and he didn't even realize how much of a flex it was either!

"s-shit, sei.. y'so big.."

you could see his dick twitch a bit at your words, his hand pumping his huge dick a bit faster. being an egoist at the end of the day, your words did wonders to his pride.

"turn on your camera, please. wanna see your pretty face and body in real time."

forgetting your initial embarrassment, you tapped the button to turn on your camera, giving him a small flustered smile before flipping the camera to aim at your bare thighs, cute lacey panties tugged to the side. nagi moaned lowly at the sight.

"take it off fully. be a good girl and fuck yourself for me."

only you got to see this side of nagi- horny, passionate, and needy. your eyes stayed glued on his own camera as your thighs trembled, sliding your panties off before parting more for him to see. your free hand went down to rub your nub, then you slid your dainty fingers between your pussy's lips, collecting your own juices. nagi hummed.

"such a beautiful girl you are. wish you were here right now, would fuck you so good.."

"s-sei.. please.. want that so bad. need you to fuck me.."

two fingers dipped into your hole as a soft moan left your lips, focus faltering for a moment before bringing your attention back to see that nagi was already leaking with precum.

"fuuuck.. such a hassle being online.. m'gonna fly you out next week. give you the time of your life."

you couldn't tell if the lazy soccer player was just saying that in a moment of heat, or if he genuinely meant it. either way, your fingers moved faster, walls clenching around them at the mere thought of being pounded by your taller, stronger boyfriend. as nagi continued whispering more praises and dirty things, you felt yourself nearing release and with the way the white haired boy was breathing a bit faster, it was obvious he was gonna cum soon as well.

"ah..sei! gonna, ahh.. gonna cum!"

"me too, angel. ugh..gimme a show, baby. cum for me."

you didn't need to be told twice. at his desperate, low words, the knot in your stomach tightened, and with a loud moan you came down on your fingers, gushing all over them. nagi quickly followed after, nutting in a tissue he lazily reached out and grabbed. after a moment of catching your breathes, your cameras came off and nagi spoke softly, out of breath.

"..mean it, baby. i'm gonna fly you out next week. need you by my side too badly.. wanna cuddle and kiss you."

a tired smile came to your lips as your highs wore out.

"i'm so excited to finally see you, love. it'll be the best day of my life."

despite what others may say about nagi seishiro, he was a sweet boyfriend to you and always stuck by his word. after a bit of cleaning up and a small conversation, you both fell asleep easy on the phone. you made sure to set a reminder to pack your bags in the next couple days, as well <3

AN: first time writing LOL i couldn't stop giggling, hope u enjoy though ♡

[14dyh]

Clueless | H.Z.

Pairing: Hange Zoë x reader Summary: Your research partner, Hange, is clueless about romance. Or so you thought. Content: just fluffy research partners trope A/N: i survived college hell week so here you go. HVD HANGE LOVERS!!

"I didn't know you could walk slower," you remarked as Hange strode beside you. 

Early training was exhausting, coupled with the paperwork you have to handle after. Just thinking about it drains your energy.

Your ever-energetic Section Commander only beamed at you and responded, "Well, I have to match your pace more often now."

"Why is that?"

"Since we became research partners?"

Your head racked in confusion, gaze snapping back to them.

"Research partners? Since when?"

"I knew you still haven't read Erwin's notice," they said matter-of-factly, pulling a folded sheet of paper from their uniform. "He thinks your works are impressive and said we should work together on a new trapping device."

"That... sounds exhausting..." 

"Right! Exciting, isn't it?" Hange smiled, too deep in their excitement that they misheard you. You can never keep up with that amount of enthusiasm, try as you might. 

After pulling an all-nighter last night to organize files, your commander now wants to transfer you to the thinking team. Great. 

"When are we going to start?" you asked Hange. 

-

It turns out that working closely with Hange would present unexpected issues. You have no problem with Hange or the work itself as being with them brightens your day more than you cared to admit. Sometimes you wonder why they're so good at making you smile and laugh even at the face of mathematical formulas and complex design structures but that's a question for another day. Your real musings lie on the question of why they're so clueless about people hitting on them. Surely, the box of chocolates left on their desk with hearts scribbled all over it or the cadets swooning over them when they passed by the corridor weren't just people being friendly as Hange always liked to think. 

This present issue became more clear when Valentine's Day arrived. To think that your lot makes time to celebrate this event is amusing. You were with Hange the whole time that day, brainstorming and sleepless that you almost forgot about the day of love happening just outside your doors. 

"What if we try it? You know, outside?" Hange offered, sipping on their fifth mug of coffee. "See if it works?"

"Hange, it's a long-range weapon. And there are people outside," you muttered sleepily, yawning as you walked towards the window to allow some sunlight in. You drew the curtains and looked down. "People celebrating apparently."

"For what?" Hange asked absentmindedly, busy scribbling down a few ideas that you probably have to illustrate later. 

"Dunno," you yawned again, drawing the blinds back. "I'm sleeping. You can't stop me."

"Go ahead," they said, thumb pointing at the bed. "I'll wake you up later."

-

When Hange woke you up about an hour later, you hid under their pillows and bargained for another five minutes of sleep. 

"No, silly, we're not going to work. I brought something," their voice came, lifting the pillows you're hiding on. 

Their brown eyes beamed at you, holding up something as your vision cleared. 

Chocolate? 

No, not just that. They've got an armful of it. 

"Where on earth did you get all of that?"

"Outside the door," they muttered, opening one to munch on it. They offered you one. "Surprising, huh?" 

"Well, it's Valentine's Day." You only remembered about a minute ago. 

"It is?" Their eyes widened momentarily. "I thought it's tomorrow."

You laughed softly, taking a chocolate from their hand. "We've been staring at plans all week, we didn't know."

"About time," they spoke, sitting on the spot next to you. Their eyes met yours and for a moment, you were tempted to look away as if gazing any longer will melt you in a puddle. It's not helping that they seemed to enjoy looking at you more than anything else recently. "Let's have dinner. There's a new dinner just outside the quarters."

"Did, uh, did we miss dinner downstairs?" 

"Yeah... I forgot about it." A sheepish grin crossed their face. "Doesn't matter, though. It's only 9 PM."

-

It turns out that diners were occupied that day, couples swarmed the place as the buttery scent of baked goods wafted in the air. After the long queue, you managed to take back four sandwiches which you ate in your shared room. 

Hange sat on the bed next to you, scribbling equations, crossing them out, and starting over again. It was adorable how their brows crease when they think.

"Hange?"

"Hm?"

"Shouldn't you sleep?"

They smiled, "Later."

"Happy Valentine's Day," you mumbled sleepily, curling up next to them.

"You too." Hange's gaze lingered on your sleeping form, thinking of the reservation for two they booked yesterday.

They stayed up late that night, writing down equations, and dimming the lamp to allow you some sleep. They were asleep until afternoon slumped over their papers which you diligently put away when you woke up that morning. You only understood half of what was written, guided by Hange's short annotations on the page. It warmed your insides, knowing that Hange wrote these equations for your designs. The invention you're both working on felt more feasible and easier to envision.

- 

"It's working well, Commander," you reported to Erwin later that day when he asked about the device's progress.

"It must have been, huh? Hange knows how to gather a great team," he smiled amicably. "They specifically requested for you."

Your cheeks heated up, smiling warmly even on your way out of Erwin's office.

Hange was waiting in the corridor, notebook discarded and eyes lighting up when they saw you. They half-run in your direction, energetic and beaming as always as though they had enough sleep.

"Ready to go?" They asked, walking beside you.

"Where?"

That same charming smile you always notice creased their cheeks.

"Maybe the diner has a seat for two this time."

[5tarchaser]

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ heads up

pairings: ni-ki x reader ft. danielle of new jeans and mentions of jake

synopsis: sometimes getting hit on the head by a baseball can be something to bond over.

word count: 1063

warnings: mild swearing, poor attempts at humour

a/n: as somebody who has always been hit in the face by a sports ball growing up, hopefully this is a meet cute that can actually happen to me but thats probably still unrealistic lol. anyways here's a short little ni-ki oneshot!! i still dont know how i feel about it but its good enough ε-(ｰдｰ) will most likely be posting my jongseob smau soon so that will be my main focus :)) so oneshots may not be posted as often cause this writer cannot multitask :p

Sitting in class, you continuously check your phone, counting down the time until class ends. 

You feel a nudge on your shoulder, waking you up from your daze. Turning to the person beside you, Danielle whispers to you. “Mr. Hong may be smart and nice, but why does his voice have to be so gentle?” She puts her head down on the desk. "Like, it makes me sooo sleepy.”

"Agreed,” you say as you check your phone again for what seems like the 127th time.

“Why do you keep checking your phone? You got a hot date?” Dani teases.

You roll your eyes and respond, “I wish. More like a date to the dentist. Have to leave as soon as class ends, or else I'll have to wait thirty minutes for the next train.”

"Well, that sucks,"  Dani sighs. "Honestly, knowing you, you may not be able to make it considering how slow you run.”

You slapped her arm. “Hey! So not true. I’m just preserving energy.”

“Mmhm. Sure.”

Five minutes before class ends, you start to pack your things, getting ready to dash outside the classroom.

As the bell rings, you quickly run down the stairs, saying a quick goodbye to Dani as well as Mr. Hong. You couldn’t really care as people gave you odd looks for rushing towards the train station; some people may have thought that you just really needed to take a shit.

On the way to the train station, you have to pass by the sports field. Being completely unaware of your surroundings, you fail to hear someone shout toward you.

“Hey! Heads up!”

All of a sudden, a hard object hits you square on the side of your head, making you lose balance and fall to the ground. 

Aware of your position on the ground, a wave of embarrassment took over. You lay there for a bit, not wanting to make eye contact with the people around you. “Not gonna lie, you would think somebody would come and ask me if I’m alright,” you thought.

As you start to get up from the ground, the sound of footsteps can be heard running towards you.

"Hey, are you okay?” A tired yet deep and husky voice says

You look up from your position, seeing a boy around your age with a baseball mitt around his hand. “Why is this man so freaking tall?”

You watch as he mouths words, but no actual sound is coming out of those plumped, nevertheless sort of chapped lips.

He shakes your shoulder lightly. “Excuse me, are you okay?”

You shake your head, getting out of your daze, although that may have been a mistake, seeing that it made you more dizzy.

The boy reaches his hand out, and you grab them as he hoists you back up.

“I’m so sorry, that was quite a hit; it must’ve hurt,” he starts. “Normally Jake has better aim, and when he doesn't, I can normally catch it,” he says as he scratches the nape of his neck.

“It’s completely fine; it totally doesn’t hurt at all.” You respond nonchalantly. 

“Do you want some ice? I can get someone to get you some," he says as he grabs your hand and pulls you towards the practice field. “Here, just come sit on the bench and I’ll grab you some ice,” he says as he ushers a team member to get some ice.

“No, no, it's okay. I'm good. Kind of running late for something anyway, plus it really doesn't hurt.” You attempt to stand up.

The boy gently pushes you back on the bench. "Look, I'm sure whatever you have to do can wait, cause even if you say it doesn't hurt, the side of your head is definitely saying something else.”

You reach up to where the ball hit you, feeling a swollen bump starting to form. “Fine, you can give me ice, but after that, I'll be on my way to the station.”

He gives you a stern look. “Um, no, we still have to go with the standard precautions. You could have a concussion right now.”

"Look, I'm sure if I had one, I would know.”

“No, you're staying here. Practice ends in fifteen minutes anyway. So stay put.” He hands you a plastic bag of ice that his teammate got.

Being left with no choice, you watch as he runs to the center of the field. Watching as he throws and catches the ball around.

Not really knowing anything about baseball, you plug your earbuds in and slowly close your eyes to rest. “I'm already late at this point; I might as well rest.”

Little did you know, resting your eyes caused a little misunderstanding with the boy that had helped you. As he practiced, he took small glances at you every now and then. Seeing your eyes start to close caused him to immediately think you were about to faint.

Worried that you just became unconscious, the boy was unaware of the baseball that was being thrown towards him.

With history repeating itself, the boy fell face flat to the ground, a swollen bump starting to form on his head.

Waking up from your quick nap, you look beside you to see the same boy holding an ice pack on his head, similar to you.

“What the hell just happened?” You questioned.

“You know it turns out Jake over there really does have bad aim,” he jokes. “Or maybe I was just a teensy bit worried about you.”

“Worried about what?”

He explains, "Well, you closed your eyes; I thought you had fainted.” 

"Well, I didn't.”

He sighs. “Yeah, I can see that now.”

The two of you guys sat there with an awkward silence surrounding you. Feeling a bit better, you decide to grab your things, turning toward the boy beside you.

“You know, I never got your name. It would be nice to know who my hero is.”

“I'm Nishimura Riki, but people just call me Ni-ki. You?”

“I'm YN. Nice to meet you, Ni-ki, and thanks for helping me.”

He smiles, “Anytime.”

As you begin to turn away, a faraway voice can be heard.

“Hey! Heads up!”

You turn around and see Ni-ki in front of you with a baseball in his hand.

He screams towards his teammate, “You know Jake, you really do have shit aim!”

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[sturnslutz]

back to friends.

angst, suggestive, friends with benefits, unresolved, being drunk, use of y/n wc: 1.7k listen to this song on repeat while reading.

matt walked into the room, stumbling onto your bed, his eyes heavy. you were laying down on your bed, aware of what had happened to him and kept both your doors unlocked for him to come inside without problem.

he let his body fall to the edge of your bed, barely hitting your feet. he grumbled, mumbling incoherent words into your sheets. you leaned up, scratching through his brown locks softly, matt letting out a small sound.

"y'need some water?" you ask softly. he nods, lifting his head up from your blanket, fully allowing you to see his drunk, tired face. "here. drink." you handed him a bottle of water that was on your side table, matt happily accepting it.

the last time matt was actually in your bed was not even 3 nights ago where him and his brothers got into an argument, leading him to come to you, his best friend, sobbing into the pillow.

after finishing the bottle, he tosses it somewhere before crawling up closer to you, clinging to you like a small child. "missed you. shoulda' came."

"you know i don't like those parties. i can't be around all those people, especially ones who are drunk." matt snickered at this. "can't be around me, huh? damn." you slap his arm softly, rolling your eyes.

"not you, y'aren't a alcoholic. you drink sometimes and go overboard at times." matt scoffed. "no i don't. y'just saying that so i'll stop." you get taken aback a bit by matt's sudden defensiveness but dismiss it. "you need to take a shower and sleep, you're being a bitch."

matt sat up on his forearms, his face hard as stone. "i'm not. fuck you." he stood up wobbily, heading to your bathroom, slamming the door in the process. you sigh, pulling out your phone and texting chris.

"matt's over again. wanna pick him up or just let him stay here?"

"fuck im sorry nick's staying over w a friend tn and im staying w a girl, ill pick him up tomorrow morning tho. hope he isn't too much of a hastle :/"

"nah hes good just a bit cranky"

matt walked in again, his shirt off but still remaining in his sweats. it looked like he had washed his face and ran his wet hands through his hair before he slid back into your bed next to you, letting his arm fall over your waist.

"y'texting chris?" he mumbles into your shoulder. you nod, humming. "yeah, just let him know you're here." he scoffs a bit. "like he cares. you guys worry way too fucking much. 'm a 21 year old man. fuck outta here with that "caring" bullshit." he sits up, grumbling.

matt had never really spoken to you this way, or even this loudly ever and you wondered where it all suddenly came from.

"you need to chill, matt." you say while playing with the ends of your hair, your eyes flickering to matt's silent self every few seconds. "shut the fuck up, y/n. you don't know shit. we hooked up, what 2 times? been friends for god knows how fuckin' long and you think you know shit about me. you don't. stop actin' like you my girlfriend." matt snaps, turning his upper body towards you.

"i'm just trying to help out-" "i don't need your fucking help. not you, not chris, not nick, not anyone." matt interrupts. he fully looks back at you, his eyes meeting your eyes for the first time that night, genuinely.

you see his eyes glance down to your lips before his eyebrows furrow a bit as it seems like he's searching every part of your face for something neither of you are quite sure of.

"what?" you ask simply. he meets your eyes again, his tough act growing once again. "nothing." he leans back down onto the bed, turning his body facing the other wall. he scoots himself back a bit subconsciously to let his back touch your arm, even slightly.

he doesn't move, and neither do you as the sounds of your breaths filling the quiet room. "im sorry, y/n. i don't mean to be mean. i just don't feel good." he says softly, after some time. he turns his body to face you, his eyes looking over at your figure that was being illuminated by your lamp on your sidetable.

you look over at him, seeing his low eyes examine your face a bit, before he leans in, kissing your lips softly, searching for anything. you kiss him back a bit before turning your head. "you reek of tequila." you laugh a bit and he rolls away, letting out a breathy laugh also.

"whatever. c'mere." he grabbed your jaw a bit tight, bringing your face back to meet his. you kissed back almost immediately, disregarding the reek. he lets his hand fall to your cheek, rubbing it softly.

after some time, matt pulled away. "remember the first time we kissed? when we were 14?" matt said while kissing your neck, bringing up the memory. "yeah, at summer camp. and we promised not to tell anyone or do it again then we made out in your tent later." you giggled, remembering the memory.

-flashback-

summer of 2017. best friends with the sturniolo triplets who invited you to their camp they've been going to since they were 6. it was lunchtime, and you and matt had picked a table somewhat far away from everyone else, something that became normal for the both of you.

this day, matt had taken a red marker from the arts and crafts station. "can i draw on you? just little hearts." matt said, fiddling with the marker in between his fingers. "yeah, go ahead." you said, taking a sip out of your chocolate milk that was somewhat good.

matt began drawing little red hearts and then coloring the inside of them with a bit more pressure to create a darker color against your skin. "i wanna try something." he whispers before leaning down and kissing each individual heart on your arm with such softness.

the movement caught you by such surprise, leaving your breath hitched in your throat, but you couldn't move your arm away. the feeling of him kissing your body felt so nice.

he leaned back up, with a clear marker stain on his lips. "was that okay?" he muttered, to which you immediately nodded to. "yeah, yeah. y'just got a little stain right there. i'll take it off." you pointed to his lips to which you leaned in, kissing him and him kissing back immediately.

you pulled away after a little bit, seeing that the stain had now been on both your lips, yours and his. he giggled seeing this, before leaning in once again.

-flashback over.-

"good times, i'm telling you y/n." he said before snuggling into your neck, wrapping his arm across your waist, pulling you in tightly. "turn off the light, would you?" he muttered. you nodded, leaning up and flicking the off switch.

the night went on smoothly, soft words and giggles being thrown into the air, eventually leading you two to fall asleep, wrapped up in each other, a lot more close and personal then "best friends" should be.

the sun peeked through your curtains, a low groan being emitted from your throat. you stretched, your knuckles hitting your headboard, causing another groan to be made.

you let your eyes open up a bit and noticed a certain emptiness next to you. you knew matt had come over last night and you two did fall asleep next to one another but did he really leave like that? a decision he's made countless times even after sex, promising he wouldn't do it again?

you leaned over to his side to look for anything of a sign of him. a note, a sock, anything. nothing. nothing was left, and it was almost like he wasn't there. you leaned back over, picking up your phone that was still attached to the charger, the time showing 8:37am.

he hadn't even left a text. he just left like the numerous times he had done before. you pulled up your texts with chris, the last being a text from you last night telling how matt had been "cranky."

"hey has matt left to your house? he js left without a word"

chris responded 3 minutes later.

"he left already? i was supposed to pick him up. lemme check his loc hold up"

"he turned it off lemme ask nick gimme a sec"

"nick said matt turned his location for him off too. all at 4:37am ig"

you checked your messages with matt, and it said the same thing.

"matt has stopped sharing their location with you at 4:37am."

he left 4 hours after he had came? where the fuck did he go?

"hey did u get home safe? left without saying anything lol"

matt responded 13 minutes later.

"ya"

"alr just text me later when ur less hungover"

"k"

throughout the day, matt still hasn't said anything. you had seen a couple clips of him from peoples' stories taking shots, smoking, and making out with random girls.

these stories were all on close friends or private stories of these influencers because if the internet had saw, matt would've been fucked.

seeing matt kiss other girls irked something in you, a feeling you know you shouldn't feel. but you did feel it, whether you liked it or not. matt and you were strictly only friends, a relationship was something the both of you couldn't commit to.

matt was known for being a "loverboy" and "the shy triplet" to the internet, but he was the complete opposite off of the screen. he would fuck you like no other, he would make you cry like no one else had, and he would make you laugh the hardest you ever have.

that's what you loved and hated about matt.

you had learned from before not to talk about your place with matt to him, and learned that he literally couldn't care about "aftercare" or whatever that shit was.

the feelings you felt for him had never changed and you continued to look past the toxic self he put on himself. you continued to see him as the guy you used to love when you were a teenager, and the adult who's back you always had, whenever he needed the support.

[humiliatemeplesse]

You went out to meet up with friends one night and didn't turn off your computer. In fact, you forgot to close the website you had been looking at, a gay sock fetish website. Your roommate went into your room looking for his favorite workout t shirt, sometimes your stuff got mixed together when you both used the washing machine and dryer right after each other. He heard the fan to your computer kick in and for some reason it made him go over and hit the space bar. The screen lit up and there was you sock porn, guys sniffing each other's socked feet for pages and pages. When you came home that night, he was sitting in the living room watching TV drinking a beer. The first thing you noticed was that he had his jeans tucked into his socks. You thought that was weird because you had never seen him do that before, not even in sweatpants. He had his feet crossed up on the coffee table . He said hey, how you doing? Go grab a beer and come hang out, we haven't talked in a while. You got a beer and went back into the living room. You sat down and he looked at you and he kicked off his sneakers. They just fell to the floor. He said hey, I was in your room yesterday. You know how our laundry always gets mixed up, I was looking for my favorite t-shirt you know, the one from college. By mistake I hit the they keyboard to your computer and I saw the website you were looking at. What the fuck is that? You got some sort of fetish for guy's socks? There were pages and pages of guys sniffing each other's socks, what's that about? You were stunned and your heart started beating really fast and you started sweating and you mumbled something incoherent. Hey look, I'm not going to judge you, he said. But that's some weird shit. I mean we've all heard of this stuff before but it's still not normal. I can't believe that you've been able to hide it from me since college. So you know what I'm going to do for you? I'm going to let you sniff my sweaty soft feet. That's right, I'm not going to judge you and I'm going to give you what you need. But in exchange you're going to be my house bitch. And he laughed. That's right, you're going to do my laundry from now on. And you're going to clean this place top to bottom every week. Neither of us do it and frankly I'm sick of the mess and the dust. It's going to be your job from now on. And if I ask you to do anything else you do it without question. This doesn't mean I'm not your friend anymore, this just means you're going to do what I tell you to, you're just going to be my friend and my little bitch at the same time. He laughed again. And, if you don't do it I say, I'm going to tell all your friends, all your co-workers, and your family that you're a sock sniffer. And if you don't think I will, just try me. I hate to threaten you like that but, think of it this way, you get what you want and I get something out of it too. So get over here and get on your knees at the coffee table and start sniffing my sweaty soft feet. I don't change them every day, I usually just pick them up the floor every three or four days and wear them to work and working out and soccer practice too. They get pretty funky once in a while. So enjoy. Oh, and make sure you do my laundry before you go to bed tonight. And I'll expect the house to be clean top to bottom by the end of the weekend. Now go ahead, sniff 'em and sock boy. And he laughed again. You felt humiliated and like shit but you still had a hard on as you sniffed his stinking socks.