#its just on top of everything its really annoying and exhausting

[gay--dog]

is there a chance my plurality will get more clear and more defined or am i just gonna have to deal with never knowing who the fuck i am ever and not being able to predict or control any of it like forever until it maybe goes away if i get better in the future

[bigwishes]

Embarrassed?

Tom sat there staring down at his phone, typing like his life depended on it.

"if this is true I will literally trade anything to get bigger, you can make me a dumb jock, make my dick small, Ill even take being a walking joke, you can take anything you like so long as I can get huge!"

He had stumbled upon a site called "give'n'take" which was claiming that it would allow him to trade something he currently has for something he wanted. He had seen claims from guys claiming to of turned into their dream self over night by giving up something that they never really liked about themselves anyway.

But it was Hard for Tom to pick something he wanted to give up, he had almost won the genetic lottery in his eyes. A fat nine inches down stairs, 6.5ft tall, a good amount of body hair, not enough to be annoying but enough to drive guys wild. Everything had made him a walking stud that oozed confidence with every step. All but one thing that is. Tom had loved bodybuilding ever since he could remember, he loved the look of huge guys and he loved the idea of being one, but on his 23rd birthday he looked in the mirror and saw after years of work he looked nothing like a bodybuilder. sure he had some size but there was no real mass. He just looked like a guy who played sport on the weekend. He wanted to be so much bigger. He got hard imagining himself being the guy who had to turn sideways to get through a door or who rocked up to a house party in gym shorts and an XXL stringer tank top that clung to him like it was about to snap. Unfortunately his height was against him, his long muscle fibers took ages to develop and when they did it was so evenly spread out it didn't look like he had done anything at all.

He'd do anything to be bigger, he'd be happy with anything taken away so long as he was huge. So he left the choice up to the people behind the screen.

---

The next morning Tom woke up and instantly felt strange, he felt off balance some how like his body had gone up 30 pounds over night and when he got up and looked in the mirror he realised...it had.

"HOLY SHIT" Tom yelled out into his empty apartment.

His body had beefed up and become more defined without any more work. He couldn't worship himself for long though as he instantly began investigating to see what had been taken, but it didn't appear like anything was missing at all.

He was still packing, he hadn't shrunk in fact he might of even gained an inch or two and he didn't have any issues remembering anything from his engineering degree or any day to day stuff. The thought crossed his mind that maybe they had forgotten to take something, or maybe because he wanted to be big so badly they cut him a break.

Tom's worries melted away as he smiled and flexed his newly enhanced biceps.

"mmm, not as huge as I was hoping for but I'll keep working on it"

Tom picked up his gym bag and decided to head out to see what his new size could do, and to stick to the habit, he didn't want all this new size to make him forget to work out and end up losing it all in a few months.

Tom arrived at the gym and changed into his workout gear but he looked and felt different was he...bigger? nah, he thought to himself, its just him getting used to being this big although as he stared at his new size in his reflection a new thought entered his mind.

"Maybe this tank top is too tight...I probably shouldn't be such a show off and buy some looser clothes to cover up"

He shook his head and decided to think about it when he got home, right now he just wanted to see how strong he had gotten.

As Tom worked out something weird was happening, he knew how to exhaust his muscle, he new how to overload the weight and really make it feel like work but as he added weight with each set it felt just as easy as the last.

He'd occasionally see his reflection in the mirror wall and he looked like he was getting even bigger, and his tank top felt even tighter than before. Surely it was just the pump he thought to himself as he continued to lift and push his body.

He sat down at the cable row and put the pin almost at the bottom of all the plates, surely this would be a struggle for him. Tom leant back and pulled when suddenly.

Cutcshhhhhhh!

the sound of ripping fabric rung out in his ear as he felt the shoulder strap snap and felt the fabric split across his back.

"aw shit" Tom said as he stood up and took of his shirt.

Immediately he saw his reflection in the mirror, he looked huge. His muscles bulging he couldn't help but pull his gym shorts up and flex, this is what he wanted to be an absolute tank...

but, everyone probably thought he was a dickhead flexing outside of the changing room, he thought to himself. He started to wonder if he was that guy now, the guy who'd workout shirtless and annoy everyone in the gym.

He noticed a few dudes looking at him like they were waiting to get on the machine. His face turned a slight pink on his cheeks and he was flushed with embarrassment.

"oh s-sorry" Tom stuttered as he quickly tried to move out the way

Originally he thought he'd just move on to the next exercise but he realised he was shirtless and bolted for the changing room. Once inside he gazed at his reflection again.

"maybe...I shoulda asked to be just a little smaller, fuck now I gotta walk outta here shirtless"

Tom couldn't get a grip and didn't no what had come over him. He had never felt a shred of embarrassment in his life but now he was worried what people would think about him being shirtless in the gym.

The changing room was empty and Tom took the time for a few more poses before he was gonna make a run for the exit. He flexed his arms as hard as he could and felt the blood rushing into the muscle, but it was strange, the muscle wasn't just pumped up, it was like it was still pumping up. He tilted his head and watch in the mirror, slowly but surely his shoulders and arms were expanding, his chest was filling with mass and size. He saw his already huge legs slowly expanding out into colossal pillars as they stretched his shorts. He could hear the fabric starting to strain and quickly bend down to get his gym bag.

The moment he leant over he heard the changing room echo with a large tearing sound as he felt the tightness relieve across his ass. Tom's face turned bright red as he quickly reaches around to make sure it was just the shorts he had split and not his underwear.

He let out a sigh of relief as he felt his underwear was still in tact, he stood up and took a step hearing has his massive thighs tore and split his shorts with just one step. He was almost at the door when he saw his hulking figure in the mirror.

He stood frozen admiring his huge body, he flexed his entire body at once loving how huge he had become, he noticed his underwear was straining and the fabric was starting to become see through and then he remembered....he had to walk through the gym like this to get out....

A wave of embarrassment washed over him, everyone was gonna be staring at him

Tom quickly grabbed his bag and made a break for it through the busy gym. He had hoped to run but his body was so big that was almost an impossible task, so jogging was next but even just a slight jog left him out of breath and gasping for air. By the time he reached the door he had multiple people staring at him confused as he was huffing and puffing like he had just run a marathon.

He swung open the door to the gym and bumped between two guys that were on their way in. Tom tried to apologise but the only noises that came out were him gasping for air and trying to catch his breath. He flashed a quick apology wave as he climbed into his car which was luckily parked right in front of the entrance.

Tom looked down trying to slow his breathing and catch his breath when he noticed his huge hard on. His dick was like steel, the thought of everyone staring at him....judging him....

Tom started his car trying to ignore it but he heard the two guys he had just bumped into talking, muffled by his window.

"bro did you see that guy, there is just a thing as too big"

Hearing those worse Tom felt a swirl of shame and embarrassment swell in his stomach and work its way to his pelvis as he started taking deep and slow breaths.

"I know right dude, and the way he was so out of breath just walking through the gym, and working out in his underwear? what a loser"

the two men walking into the gym laughing as the door shut behind them

The words echoed in Tom's ears, he couldn't help it, he gripped his steering wheel so tight he thought he was going to break it, he bit his lip and closed his eyes as his dick began to twitch and erupt. Tom let out a pathetic moan as he looked down to see not just his underwear soaked but his car seat and thighs caked in cum.

Tom looked into his rear view mirror, his head, traps and shoulders completely blocking the view, his face was flush as he felt more embarrassed than ever before in his life, He started his car and quickly reversed out.

"god...I'm such..."

His dick instantly got hard again.

"fuck, I'm so big....I'm...too big"

Tom started panting as he drove out of the parking lot.

"I'm a fucking big, freakish, loserrrr--eerruuuuughh!!"

Tom couldn't help unload himself into his underwear and over his car seat thinking about how pathetic he was...

Well...he did say he was happy for them to take anything, His confidence seemed like a fair price.

[thehoneybeestings]

𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧

𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐤𝐚 𝐱 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

୨ৎ Service Top! Sevika x Brothel Worker! Reader drabble

‧₊˚── Synopsis: Sevika sees you once at Babette's before deciding you're her favorite girl; and luckily for you, she's your favorite client. Thus blossoms an unspoken exclusivity between the two of you... or so you think, until one night, you happen upon her in between your coworker's legs. You're left blindsighted, hurt, and just plain jealous; and worst of all... you know it's unfairly so.

Word Count: 3.8K Content/Warnings: nsfw, service top! sev, brother worker! reader, bottom! reader, fem reader, reader has female anatomy, romantic smut, oral (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), strap (r receiving), useless pining lesbians, angst w/ a happy ending, L-word drop (love not lesbian you silly!) sev def has an abandonment wound poor bby A/N: SERVICE TOP! SEV x BROTHEL READER UNIVERSE EXPANDS! thank you so much to this anon for the incredible idea; this is the longest piece I've written, so i apologize that it's taken so long; but here we are, many a late night later! i hope i did the concept justice; this piece was honestly a bit challenging because of it's length and because i had so much fun fleshing out the idea and had to reign myself in a few times, but i really enjoyed the process and hope you all will enjoy the product!

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐁𝐞𝐞 ୨ৎ

──˚₊୨ৎ‧₊˚──

Today had been awful.

Unequivocally, comically awful. So much so, that Sevika finds herself standing outside of Babette’s, looking up at the silver moon, and wondering if its fullness has anything to do with just how bad her day had been; and she’s never really cared what the sun, the moon, and the stars had to say about her luck. 

It had been one of those days where everything that could go wrong, did go wrong- her mech arm had been short-circuiting all day, Silco was in a particularly pissy mood after a failed deal, and her team had fumbled a mission because some show-off new hire couldn't be patient- so she could only assume that today’s fury-inducing events were celestially predisposed. 

Actually, scratch that; she couldn't give two fucks about why her day been so shitty. All she knew is that it had, and she was exhausted, and she only wanted one thing right now:

You.

Of course, she wouldn't admit this, but the thought of your pretty eyes lighting up as she walked into your room, your sexy grin stretching across your face as you beckoned her over, your body underneath her as she coaxed you over the edge for the second, third, fourth time; these images had been the only thing holding her together today. 

Sevika knew better. Knew she had no business getting this attached to someone who was simply providing a service; and she'd scold herself for it later, but right now- as she opened the doors to Babette’s and made her way down the hall- she just wanted to see you. 

So, when she pushes the beaded curtain out of the way to see that you're not there, she hopes to the gods you're just on a break.

“Looking for Y/n?” 

Celeste, a coworker of yours, had found herself immensely displeased that you were hogging her favorite customer. Of course, she had failed to consider that clients choose their servicer and not the other way around, but she refused to believe that Sevika may not have been as interested in her as she was in Sevika. 

“Yeah,” Sevika gruffs, “I am.”

“Aw, that's too bad,” the raven-haired girl responds with a pout, “she just left for the day. Said she wasn't feeling well.”

Sevika would be unfathomably annoyed by this cherry on top of her already wonderful day if she weren't, first and foremost, worried.

“Not feeling well? How so?”

Celeste found herself becoming increasingly annoyed by Sevika’s show of concern for you. “She didn't say,” she begins impatiently, “but…” and then, she's trailing a finger down Sevika’s mech arm (Sevika didn't like anyone touching her mech arm but you) “I’d be more than happy to take care of you tonight.” 

Sevika had two options. She could go home and wallow in the frustration caused by the day’s events, or she could suck it up, settle for Celeste’s company, and at least end the night with some release. After all, it’s not like the two of you were exclusive, she thought; there was no reason why Celeste shouldn’t do, right? 

Right?

“After you,” Sevika huffed, trying her best to ignore how wrong it felt to follow anyone else to their room; and for the rest of the night, she’s trying her best to ignore how wrong the smell of Celeste’s perfume is, how wrong the taste of her skin is, how wrong her moans and mewls sounded bouncing against the walls…

And when you come out of the breakroom, you can feel your freshly blushed cheeks heat up in anger when you walk past Celeste’s room to see Sevika in between her legs. You only stand in front of the lace curtain for a second before you’re storming back to your room, and for the rest of the night, you’re trying to ignore how pissed you are. 

──˚₊୨ৎ‧₊˚──

“I feel so pathetic,” you whine, “I mean, why do I even care? It’s not like we’re together.”

It’d been a week since you saw Sevika with Celeste, and you were sitting in your favorite booth at The Last Drop, hoping that the giant margarita sitting in front of you and your best friend would aid in taking your mind off of it all.

They were no stranger to the situation unfolding between you and Sevika, and at this point, they were downright sick of watching you pretend your relationship with her hadn’t long exceeded client and servicer. 

“Do I seriously need to answer that question, Y/n?” They tease.

“You know, I’d actually prefer if you didn’t” you sigh, before taking a sip of the lime green drink in front of you.

“Right… because you already know the answer.”

They were right. You did already know the answer, but you weren’t ready to admit that the feelings you had for Sevika were very real, and only getting stronger. 

“Well, clearly, she doesn’t feel the same way about me,” you spit. An angry heat flushes your face as the image of Sevika and Celeste floods your memory.

Your best friend looks down at you with a soft, knowing smile. “You know, there’s no way of knowing how she feels unless you ask.”

You lean back with a huff, letting your head hit the back of the wooden booth with a soft thud.

“I can’t do that; and either way, that would be completely unprofessional… or, at the very least, completely humiliating.”

“Oh my God, Y/n, you’re impossible. All this yearning…”

They slide the glass over and away from your reach, taking a giant sip of their own.

You can’t help but let out a laugh, unable to deny the claim, but grateful nonetheless for the humorous distraction from the situation(ship) at hand. 

That is, until the situation walks through The Last Drop’s double doors; and just like it had when you walked past Celeste’s room a week ago, your heart drops. 

“Perfect,” you seethe, watching Sevika make her way to the bar. “I’m gonna head out, okay? Drink’s on me.”

“Fine by me,” your friend quickly surrenders, coaxing one last chuckle from you as you stand, “but hey, seriously, it’ll all work out. I’m here for you too, yeah?” 

You give them a small smile. “Of course. See ya,” you call out before heading to the bar yourself, hoping to Janna that Sevika will stay where she was on the opposite end while you close out the tab; and as you’re sliding coins to the bartender and turning on your heel to leave, you think you’ve successfully managed to avoid her, until,

The hand on your back is large, warm, gentle. You hate that you immediately recognize who it belongs to. 

“Y/n?” 

You turn around, taking a deep, steadying breath.

“Sevika.”

Her eyes are scanning your face, then your body; she looks relieved to see you. You hate that, too. 

You just wanted to be pissed at her, avoid her at all costs, and ignore how you really felt about her for as long as possible. Why did she have to make that so hard?

“How are you-”

You interrupt her before she has the chance to make any of those things any harder. “I was just leaving. I’ll see you around, okay?” 

More than anything else, you hate how her face falls when you pull away, making a B-line for the exit. 

──˚₊୨ৎ‧₊˚──

For the past three weeks, you had taken to avoiding Sevika like the plague. You figured that after enough time, your feelings for her would inevitably fade, and you could go on about your life as usual. 

Spoiler alert: they would not. In fact, she was on your mind now more than ever; and frankly, it was pissing you off. 

You knew Sevika wasn’t yours. What you had with her was nothing more than business. You had no right to be angry with her for spending her time and her money on a night with someone else. 

That pissed you off even more. 

You sat at a vanity in the breakroom you had quickly dipped into when you caught sight of Sevika walking through the doors of Babette’s. 

“Gods, she comes in, like, every day now,” you complain to the worker seated to your right; the both of you powdering your faces. 

“You know, I’ve actually noticed she’s barely ever here anymore,” they begin. “She used to be here almost every night to see you.” 

They don’t know they’ve struck a nerve; which is why you feel a little bad when you suddenly slam your powder down, their eyes wide and confused as they watch you storm back to your room. 

You shove your way through the beaded curtain, eyes closed and jaw clenched as you try your best to collect yourself. You stand in front of the doorway, taking slow, deep breaths:

In, and out, in, and-

Why does it smell like cigarette smoke in here?

Just as quickly as you register the smell of Sevika’s cigarettes, your eyes fly open.

Here she was, in all her glory, sitting on the velvet couch in front of you. 

You had almost forgotten how pretty she was underneath the warm, soft light of the ornate lamps littering your room. You wanted so badly to crawl onto your place in her lap, to run your fingers through her raven hair, to trace the scars on her face- 

Gods, you hated what she did to you, and you hated that you just couldn’t get over it.

“The fuck are you doing?” You spit, heart already speeding up.

She chuckles through her nose, putting out her cigarette on an ashtray before standing to meet you. 

The amusement on her face drops, her jaw set, eyes boring into you; and for a split second, you’re almost scared. 

Almost; because, despite her intimidating reputation proceeding her, you were privy to a gentleness that no one else saw. 

“Here to ask you the same thing.” she spits. “Fuck have you been dodging me for?”

You knew Sevika. You knew her well; well enough to know that she was far too observant not to notice you avoiding her like the plague. 

“What are you talking-” “Do you think I’m stupid?”

Unfortunately, your plans to ice her out hadn’t accounted for the fact that Sevika simply was not going to let you get away with this.

“Answer me,” she continues, nostrils flaring. 

You nearly break under her gaze, but Sevika knows you well enough to know that you’re nearly as stubborn as she is. 

So when you bite back with a, 

“Why do you even care?”

All she can do is let out an exasperated sigh. 

“Can you be fucking serious? Why do I care? As if I wasn’t showing up here damn near every night to see you-”

“Exactly!” You snap, eyes blowing wide. “Exactly Sevika; why bother showing up nearly every night for six months, refusing to see any other girl, making me feel like I was… I was special, just for you to turn around and fuck Celeste because I wasn’t primed and goddamned ready for you as soon as you walked through the door?”

A pregnant pause fills the room, tension thick in the air. 

Your wild eyes scan the expression on her face. She looks… confused; her own icy greys darting from side to side like she’s trying to put the pieces of some puzzle together.

You’re trying to figure out what’s so confusing.

“Don’t act surprised,” you begin, rolling your eyes. “Was this not the plan? Convince me we had something so you’d get special treatment?”

“Sweetheart, slow down-”

“Don’t call me that! What is your prob-”

“Y/n!” 

The sound of your name on her lips had only ever been sweet; gentle. 

Loving.

Hearing her say it so scoldingly makes your throat tighten.

You feel like a kicked puppy; and you must look like one, too, because she’s quick to take a breath, dropping her shoulders and relaxing the furrow of her brow. 

“Just… hold on a second, okay?”

You take a deep breath of your own before giving her a small nod. She rubs her temples, seemingly still puzzled, before she finally asks,

“What do you mean you saw me with Celeste?”

And now, you’re just as confused. 

“Um… I mean I walked out of the breakroom to see your face buried between her thighs. What else could I mean?”

Her narrowed eyes zero in on you as the pieces finally come together; and as soon as they do, all she can do is laugh, because her only other option is to walk over to Celeste’s room and let her have it here and now. 

“That bitch.”

“Who, Celeste?” you inquire, “I mean, yeah; she is a bitch. What does that have to do with this?”

Sevika lets out an exasperated sigh, stepping closer to you.

“The only reason I was with Celeste that night is because she told me you were gone.”

Your stomach drops, jaw dropping with it. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you breathe out.

“Wish I was. She told me you weren’t feeling well. Could barely focus that night because I was worried sick about you; been worried sick about you since, and if you had just talked to me, you would’ve known that.”

You’re flooded with so many thoughts- so many feelings- that you feel dizzy. This had really all just been a giant misunderstanding? Celeste had really lied like that? 

Sevika had really been worried about you all this time?

You feel a pang of guilt in your stomach. As angry as you were at Celeste, and as much as you wanted to blame all of this on her own jealousy, you knew that only yours was to blame for the month that had gone by since you’d given Sevika the time of day.

“I.. I’m sorry, Sev.” you mutter, hands wringing in front of you. “Didn’t think you’d be worried.”

“How could you not-”

She stops herself, running a hand through her hair as she turns away from you. 

The whir of her arm is the only sound filling the silence in the room, and you can tell by the tension in her shoulders that her thoughts are likely whirring just as fast.

For the the first time in a month, you reach out to place a hand on her shoulder, thumb rubbing soothing circles into the tight muscle; just like you would when she’d come to see you after a hard day. 

That’s all she had wanted a month ago; your gentle hands beckoning her shoulders to relax, your sweet voice beckoning her to talk, your soothing presence beckoning her to rest.

How could you not know that you had unwittingly made yourself her center of gravity?

Your hand stays planted where it’s at, but you don’t speak. You can tell by the way her eyes are nearly burning a hole into the spot on the floor she’s chosen to focus on that she’s got something else to say, and just needs a moment to figure out how to say it. 

So you wait; the soothing movements of your thumb saying, “I’m sorry; I’m here,” and the way she leans into your touch saying, “It’s okay. I missed you.”

“I know I’m not… good at this stuff,” 

You smile softly, tucking a stray tendril of dark hair behind her ear.

“So I can’t blame you for not knowing how I feel, but I… you…”

She huffs, and you can tell she’s getting frustrated.

“It’s okay,” you whisper, “Take your time.”

She turns to slump down onto the arm of the wingbacked chair by your door. You slot yourself in between her legs, hands coming to rest on either side of her face; fingers mindlessly tracing shimmering lines of blue. 

“I don’t let anyone else touch those, you know?” 

 Your head tilts to the side, eyebrows knitting together in curiosity. 

“You don’t?” 

“No. I don’t. Only you.”

Another pause settles between the two of you, but for the first time since this conversation began, it’s comfortable. Peaceful. Familiar.

“Wasn’t my plan to fall for ya,” she finally admits, “and when I realized I had, I wasn’t really sure what to do with that… but I’m sorry that I ever made you feel like I was messing with your head and all.”

“It isn’t your fault, Sev,” you sigh. “Should have talked to you sooner. I was just… scared.”

“Of what?” She asks, looking up at you. “Of me?”

Damn her and those puppy dog eyes.

“No, not at all,” you quickly reassure. “Never of you. Was just scared to face the possibility that you don’t feel for me what I feel for you. Didn’t want to make a fool out of myself, you know?”

She lets out an incredulous chuckle; like there isn’t a world in which she doesn’t have feelings for you.

“Well… you’ve certainly made a fool of yourself now, doll.”

“Hey!” You scold, stepping back to cross your arms in front of your chest. 

“I’m just saying,” she says with a cocky smirk, “this could’ve all ended a month ago if you had just-”

“Okay, okay!” The wide smile on your face betrays the annoyance you’re trying to feign. Truth be told, you were too relieved by the appearance of her humorous side to pretend that you were mad. “I get it,” you continue, “I said I was sorry!”

“‘S alright, baby,” she shrugs, standing up to meet you; and when she steps forward to wrap her arms around your waist, pulling you flush against her, you can’t help but melt into the warmth you’d missed so much.

“Jus’ means we’ve got lost time to make up for.”

──˚₊୨ৎ‧₊˚──

You’re two orgasms in when Babette comes knocking on your room’s doorframe.

Your head whips around to give her a wide-eyed stare from your place on Sevika’s lap- and on two of her fingers- chest heaving and lips swollen from the kiss you’d just pulled away from.

“The fuck? We’re busy here,” Sevika grumbles, hand waving to gesture towards the rather intimate position the two of you were in.

“Sorry ladies,” Babette sighs, “You know we close early on Sundays. Glad to see that you two are back at it, though;” and with that, she makes her way back to her office.

Still in shock, you turn back to Sevika; who seems entirely unphased by the interruption. 

“My place?” She shrugs; and you can’t help but burst out into laughter, leaning in for a kiss that’s all smiles. 

“Not gonna take me out to dinner first?” You tease, cocking a brow at her. 

Whatever cockiness you were attempting to exude quickly fails when her fingers curl up into you just right, and you gasp, hips twitching on her lap.

She wraps her mech arm around your waist, sitting up to place a kiss on your temple before bringing her mouth to the shell of your ear.

“I’d say we’re past pleasantries, don't you think?” she croons. 

A shiver runs down your spine, head tilting back as she lowers her head to plant open-mouthed kisses on your neck; and when her teeth bite down on your collarbone, all you can muster is,

“Your place.” 

──˚₊୨ৎ‧₊˚──

The words slip out of your mouth before you can help it.

She’s got you laid out underneath her on soft sheets of maroon, legs thrown over her shoulders, hips snapping into you ruthlessly.

For what felt like hours, her mouth had been on you, languid and slow; and when her mouth wasn’t on you, she was leaving a mark somewhere on your skin as her fingers worked you open.

From the outside in, it may have seemed like she was teasing, and for a second, you thought that’s what she was doing. You couldn’t really blame her if she were; a little repayment for the silent treatment you’d given her. 

But you knew Sevika well; could read her movements and expressions like a book. She wasn’t teasing. 

She was drinking you in; your form under her hands, the taste of salt on your skin, your whimpers and whines floating through the air. She was committing this moment to memory like it might be the last time she has you, and you realize, she’s scared you might leave again.

It isn’t until you place a hand on her cheek, coaxing her to look you in the eyes and telling her that you’re not going anywhere, that she’s finally pulled out of her trance, lining herself up between your legs with a crooked smile on her face. 

Now, her pace is quick, rough; but her gaze is so soft, eyes blown out with adoration.

Your own begin to flutter closed, rolling back into your head when she shifts just enough for her strap to plant kiss after kiss on the sweet spot of your velvet walls.

“Janna,” you pant, tears pricking your eyes, “Right there, Sev; please don’t stop.”

Who were you kidding? She wouldn’t dare.

Her thumb moves to wipe away the stray tear trailing towards your temple. “Look at me, sweetheart.”

When you open your eyes to look up at her, she’s looking back down at you like she’s in love with you.

“So pretty,” she mutters, her flesh hand warm on your cheek as her thumb traces your cheek, your jaw, your lips. “So, so pretty, baby; missed you so fucking much.”

You’re overwhelmed. By the way she talks so sweet to you, by the way she fucks so deep into you, by the third orgasm that threatens to break like a wave;

And when it does, the words slip out of your mouth before you can help it.

“Shit, ‘m cumming… just like that, Sev; fuck, I love you so much.”

Your eyes go wide like a deer in headlights when you register your own words; and when her hips stutter, you’re already preparing yourself to be met with a look that says, ‘are you crazy?’ … until, she lets out a groan of her own, not even bothering to pull out before she’s gone limp on top of you.

You’re still mortified, frozen underneath her, staring up at the ceiling. She must feel the racing of your heart, the shallowness of your breath, because she cranes her head up from its place nestled into you shoudler to speak into your ear.

“Calm down, baby. I love you, too.”

──˚₊୨ৎ‧₊˚──

The moon is full again tonight; a stream of its cool light spilling in through the crack in Sevika’s curtains. You’ve already succumbed to the heavy lull of sleep; of course, not before Sevika insists that you pee, have a snack, drink some water, and promise that you’ll be hers from now on.

She gets up to disarm the heavy metal attached to her shoulder- something she only does when she’s certain that she’s safe- and climbs back into bed, careful not to disturb you. You rustle anyway, rolling over to bury your head in her chest.

Sevika has never really cared what the sun, the moon, and the stars had to say about her luck. 

She cares even less now with the entire universe sound asleep against her. 

──˚₊ 𝐄𝐍𝐃 ‧₊˚──

[itzpookiepooh]

Inferior

I’m sad so yk what that means 🫵🏾 SAD SHORT STORIES

You stood in front of the mirror motionless. Your eyes run over your features. You sit there contemplating what was wrong with you. You judged everything about yourself down to the last detail. You assumed it was just your monthly coming around and messing with your emotions however, what you were feeling was different than the monthly emotional roller coaster. It was like someone in the back of your mind was bullying you, taunting you.

You spent most nights lately analyzing your looks. You often thought if the people in your life really liked you. It was exhausting to think this way but you couldn’t help it. You blinked slowly thinking to yourself ‘this is really me’. Sylus was running around the N109 zone as he usually does in the night. He often worried about you when you got like this. He helped you in the best way he knew how, being there for you. So imagine his surprise when he walks into the room to see you zoned out in front of the mirror.

“Sweetie? What are you doing awake? It’s 3am.” His deep voice travels through the bathroom knocking you out of your trance.

“I was just…washing my hands.” You mumbled as you washed your hands, slowly zoning out once again. He pursed his lips watching you, his eyes flickering from your face to your hands.

“You’re doing it again.” Your head pops up as you quickly turn the water off. He sighs walking over to engulf you in a gentle hug.

“I don’t mean to.” You mumble into his chest. He kisses the crown of your head reassuringly. He knew you didn’t yet he couldn’t help but worry.

“You are the most beautiful, intelligent and brave person I know.” He tells you holding you by your shoulders. Your waterline began to fill as you looked away so you wouldn’t cry.

“Look at me.” He whispered to you holding your chin up. You sniffled as your hands make their way to his wrists. “You are the most important person in my life and when you hurt so do I.” He tells you softly.

“Thank you for always being there for me.” You whimpered out as he smiles softly. “I’ll always be here for you.” He whispers pulling you in for a tight hug. He would do anything to make this feeling go away.

You felt like you were going nowhere stuck in the same position constantly while you sat back and watched others grow. It was eating at you and making that evil green monster grow. You didn’t want to take it out on anyone because this was just something in your mind. You were happy for your friends and Raf, truly you were but sometimes that green thing called envy reared its head and whispered in your ear.

You had a long day and on top of this annoying little voice, you messed up a mission. It tore your confidence apart so you took it out on your apartment. Breaking glass and swiping tables all in the name of anger. Hot angry tears pour down your face. You ruined everything. In the midst of your rampage, Rafayel walks in with wide eyes.

“Cutie. Hey, what’s going on?” He asks, concern etched on his features. You snap towards him visibly angry. You couldn’t take this out on him. You wouldn’t.

This isn’t his fault. It’s no one’s fault, you’re just having a bad day. He comes over wrapping his arms around you as you fume with anger. You huff and puff until you finally take a few deep breaths. You were still trembling with anger. He just held you letting you breathe until you were ready to talk. He didn’t want you breaking anything else and regretting it later.

“I got you. Breathe for me, okay?” He whispers into your ear. His tone soft, coaxing you.

He was right he’s always been there. You didn’t want him to see this ‘ugly’ side of you. You didn’t want to seem envious or angry around him but he understood. Rafayel understands that humans much like Lumerians get jealous and envious.

“I feel like I’m stuck in the same spot, constantly.” Your voice trembles as your head falls back onto his shoulder. He squeezes you tighter. “It’s suffocating.”

“I know.” He mumbles into your shoulder, waiting a beat for you to say something else.

“I’m jealous of everyone around me. Promotions and other new life achievements.” You spoke solemnly, it was eating away at you.

“Sometimes envy doesn’t always have to be a green thing.” He says lifting his head. You turn to look at him sadly.

“Envy can be wanting something someone has but you don’t feel malicious towards them…like a tealish blue.” He explains looking off into nothing. You listen to him closely.

“You don’t have to be great at everything. You’re working yourself to the bone looking for validation from others.” He tells you, you felt your eyes water.

“The only person you need to seek validation from is yourself.” He spoke sincerely making sure you understood him. You face him and hug him tightly.

“I’ll always be here to support you, no matter what you choose to do.” His chin on your head as you silently cried into his chest. He meant what he said, he’d always be there for you even at your lowest.

Studying was getting harder and harder these days. You’d put the computer down and distract yourself with other tasks, it was a vicious cycle. Your motivation was wearing thin and you had no one to tell this to. At least that’s how you felt. The endless hours were gnawing at you. Did you even want this degree? Was it worth it anymore? Did you waste your time?

Endless questions and no answers for them. You closed out of your work and sigh. You push the bottoms of your hands into your eyes until you see stars. You couldn’t keep doing this, it was stupid.

“You’ll hurt yourself if you continue to do that.” Zayne’s voice echoes off the walls. You don’t move, you can’t face him. He just stands there waiting for you.

“Whatever you’re going through you don’t have to face alone. Lean on me.” He reassures you as he steps closer, crouching down placing his hands on your knees.

“I don’t have the motivation for this anymore. I don’t want to do this.” You whimper feeling tears burn at your eyes. He breathes out his nose before caressing your legs.

“Maybe you need a break. We can go to the beach this weekend and relax.” He tries to coax you, his eyes never leaving your covered face, “Just you and me.” He whispers.

You remove your hands from your face waiting for the darkness and stars to disappear. Zayne’s figure comes to fruition, you stare at him as he stares at you. He grabs your hands rubbing them gently.

“We will go on a vacation and then we can circle back to this, alright?” Zayne waits for your answer patiently, seeing what you’ll choose. You nod and he pulls you in for a hug slowly rubbing your back.

The room was silent as you watched yourself in the mirror as you tried on different outfits. You hated them and didn’t know why. This was the 3rd thing this week that made you feel a certain way. A very heavy feeling. You sighed flopping on the bed, moments later Xavier comes to check on you.

“Are you okay?” He asks softly as he sits next to your limp figure. You peek up at him and sigh.

“I don’t like how I look in these.” You mutter making him tilt his head in confusion.

“Why not? You look beautiful.” He reassured you reaching over to rub your head. You shrug sadly.

“I bought them thinking I’d like them but I don’t.” You explain to him as he thinks to himself.

“I think this is just the straw that broke the camels back. I’ve noticed you’ve been having a rough week.” He explains to you leaning back on his palms.

“I don’t know I’m just feeling inferior lately.” You tell him, your bottom lip pokes out as you think about it.

Xavier listened intently as you explained that work felt different as well as life itself. You were becoming unmotivated as you watched everyone achieve. You felt you could be doing better but what was better? He asked about the new wardrobe and you explained that you thought it would help but it just made you feel worse. You were comparing yourself to others and that was dragging you down.

“You’re yourself for a reason. If we were all doing the same thing it would be repetitive and boring.” Xavier emphasizes, you nod slowly.

Xavier was right, if we all did the exact same thing over and over while acting the exact same way, it would be boring. You stare at the ceiling thinking to yourself. You needed to clear your head. It was just a bad week, not a bad life.

“How about we go for a walk? Maybe grab a snack on the way back?” He convinces you, you smile and nod getting up to change your clothes.

Man did that help. It’s what you needed and a good long talk too. You couldn’t thank Xavier enough.

You felt like you were slacking when it came to work however, no matter how much you studied and pushed yourself—it still felt like it wasn’t enough. Caleb barely saw you these days since you were holed up in the home office preparing for the hunting competition. If you were slacking the way you thought you were, this would make up for it. Caleb was worried you were pushing yourself too hard.

He knocked three times before entering, peeking his head in the room. You were studying the layout and wanderers today. He pursed his lips before fully entering the room. You flipped through pages of guidelines, warnings and such things like that.

“Occupied?” He asks you as he sits on the desk, crossing his legs. You look up at him before sighing.

“Yes, I’m trying to be qualified for the competition.” You replied. His eyebrow quirks up at what you said. Were you not already qualified?

“You’re a hunter. I’m sure you’re more than qualified to join.” He chuckles looking at what you’re reading.

“Not like Jenna is.” You mumbled making him look at you with a sour expression.

“Jenna’s been doing this a while. I wouldn’t compare you to her.” He reassured you. You slump into the chair.

“She got where she is by working hard and she’s not that much older than us.” You explain feeling that familiar sadness. His eyes run over you taking in your expression and body language.

“Everyone works at their own pace, pips. Yours works for you and Jenna’s works for her. You don’t have to compete with everyone.” He assured you as he holds your face.

“I know but I feel so…out of place and behind. It’s not only her either I feel like this with…everyone.” You curl up making him sigh. He was worried.

“Maybe you need a break. A mental and physical one for your health. This competition will only make this feeling.” He points to your chest, “worse.”

He was right, Caleb was always right. You hated feeling like this because it clawed and dragged it way up your body. This wasn’t an extremely rare occasion but it happened enough that Caleb would worry about you. He didn’t want stress to kill you over something so small. He didn’t want you to feel like you were good enough because you were beyond good enough.

“Maybe you’re right. I just feel like I’m not doing enough and I’m not good enough.” You pout making him smile sadly at you.

“That voice is going to be the death of you if you keep listening to it. How about this?” He takes out his phone, tapping away before shoving it in your direction.

“A resort. We can both detox there like at a spa. Mud baths and facials y’know?” His content state was refreshing as you looked over what he booked.

“That sounds nice actually.” You tell him making him feel proud. He cups your face making you look at him.

“I want you to feel like you’re important because you are especially to me. No one is better than you in my eyes.” He affirmed as he kisses your forehead. You melt into it feeling safe and at home.

“You’re important to me too.” You tell him, he snorts before answering you, “Oh I know.” You smack his arm making him laugh harder.

Now that that’s over I can post the funny stuff

This was originally going to be a Sylus stand alone but this was fine too

[ghstyles]

Idea for the fratrry blurb: can u do one where yn is already having a really bad day and then Harry comes around being his usual annoying self and she kind of breaks down, so he gets really concerned

Daisies | Windows Facing

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Windows Facing Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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The rain patters steadily against Y/N's window, matching her gloomy mood as she drops her backpack on the floor and collapses onto her bed. The weight of the day—no, the entire week—presses down on her shoulders like a physical burden.

Everything that could go wrong has gone wrong. Her research proposal was rejected by her advisor, who suggested she "rethink her academic priorities." She bombed the statistics midterm she'd studied three days straight for. Her laptop crashed, taking half her term paper with it. And the cherry on top: she'd just received a call from her mother, who casually mentioned that her ex-boyfriend from high school was now engaged to her former best friend.

Y/N stares at the ceiling, too exhausted even for tears. She should get up, make dinner, try to salvage what's left of her paper. Instead, she lies motionless, listening to the rain and feeling utterly alone.

The soft glow from the window across from hers catches her attention. Harry's room in the Sigma house lights up, and she can see him moving around, tossing his jacket on the bed and running a hand through his rain-dampened hair. Under normal circumstances, she'd quickly close her curtains to avoid his notice, but today she lacks the energy even for that small movement.

Harry spots her almost immediately, his face breaking into that familiar grin that usually precedes some form of teasing. He moves to his window, opening it despite the rain and cupping his hands around his mouth.

"Oi! Psychology girl!" he calls out. "You'll never guess what happened in Dr. Peterson's class today!"

Y/N sighs deeply but pushes herself up to a sitting position. Maybe Harry's ridiculous antics will provide a momentary distraction from the disaster that is her life. She opens her window reluctantly, the cool, damp air washing over her face.

"What, Harry?" she asks, her voice lacking its usual sharp edge.

Either not noticing or choosing to ignore her subdued tone, Harry launches enthusiastically into his story.

"So Peterson's going on about Freudian symbolism, right? And this freshman in the front row, complete kiss-ass, hand up for every question, he starts arguing that sometimes a cigar is just a cigar." Harry's eyes dance with mischief. "And I say, loud enough for everyone to hear, 'But sometimes it's definitely not, mate, especially the way you're fondling that pen.'"

He pauses expectantly, clearly waiting for her usual eye-roll or cutting comeback. When none comes, he continues undeterred.

"The whole class lost it! Peterson tried to look disapproving, but I caught him smiling when he thought no one was looking. Even gave me a nod after class. Think I'm finally winning him over with my charming personality and deep analytical skills."

He strikes a pose, hand on his heart, looking so ridiculous that on any other day, Y/N might have cracked a smile despite herself. Today, however, the contrast between Harry's carefree attitude and her own misery only makes her feel worse.

"That's great, Harry," she says flatly, moving to close her window.

"Wait!" he calls, his smile faltering slightly. "I haven't even told you about how Louis accidentally set off the fire alarm during the pledge meeting. Or how I beat my own record at the gym today. Or—" he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively "—how I've been thinking about that green dress you almost wore to our rain-checked dinner."

It's the last comment that does it. The casual reminder of the dinner that never happened, the green dress she'd been so careful selecting, the entire emotional rollercoaster of that evening—it all crashes down on her at once. To her horror, Y/N feels her eyes fill with tears, which spill over before she can stop them.

"Just—" her voice breaks "—just leave me alone, Harry. Not today. Please."

Harry's playful expression vanishes instantly, replaced by genuine concern. "Y/N? What's wrong?"

She shakes her head, unable to articulate the accumulation of failures and disappointments. A sob escapes her, and she claps a hand over her mouth, mortified to be breaking down in front of him of all people.

"I'm fine," she manages unconvincingly, tears still streaming down her face. "Just go away."

She slams her window shut and yanks the curtains closed, then collapses back onto her bed, allowing the tears to flow freely now that she's hidden from view. She presses her face into her pillow, shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

Five minutes pass, then ten. The storm outside intensifies, rain lashing against the windows as thunder rumbles in the distance. Gradually, Y/N's sobs subside, leaving her feeling hollow and drained. She should get up, wash her face, try to be productive, But the bed holds her like quicksand, and she can't find the will to move.

A sharp knock at her apartment door startles her. Y/N freezes, hoping whoever it is will give up and leave. The knock comes again, more insistent this time.

"Y/N?" Harry's voice calls through the door. "I know you're in there. Open up."

Y/N sits up, staring at the door in disbelief. Why would he come here?

"Go away, Harry," she calls, wincing at how raspy her voice sounds from crying.

"Not happening," he responds immediately. "I'll stand out here all night if I have to. Your neighbors already think I'm weird. Oh, and the guy from 2D just gave me a very judgmental look on his way to the trash chute."

Despite everything, Y/N feels a tiny smile tug at her lips. She can picture Harry, soaking wet from the rain, charming his way into the building and now standing stubbornly at her door.

"I'm serious, Harry. I'm not in the mood for whatever this is."

There's a pause, then Harry's voice comes again, softer this time. "I brought ice cream. And those chocolate biscuits you pretend not to like but always steal from my plate in the dining hall."

Y/N stares at the door, torn between wanting to be left alone in her misery and being genuinely touched by the gesture. With a deep sigh, she pushes herself off the bed and crosses to the door, not bothering to check her appearance in the mirror. Harry has seen her cry now; a blotchy face and red-rimmed eyes hardly matter anymore.

She opens the door to find Harry standing there, hair dripping from the rain, holding a plastic grocery bag in one hand. His usual cocky expression is nowhere to be seen, replaced by genuine concern that only deepens when he takes in her tear-streaked face.

"Jesus, Y/N," he says softly. "What happened?"

The simple question, asked with such sincere worry, almost sets her off again. She steps back, allowing him to enter rather than answering immediately.

Harry follows her inside, closing the door behind him. He sets the grocery bag on her small kitchen counter and shrugs off his wet jacket, hanging it carefully over a chair. There's none of his usual swagger or teasing as he moves around her space with unexpected consideration.

"You didn't have to come over," Y/N says, wrapping her arms around herself. She's suddenly acutely aware that she's wearing old leggings with a hole in the knee and a Northwestern sweatshirt that's seen better days.

Harry looks at her, his expression uncharacteristically serious. "Yes, I did."

He begins unpacking the grocery bag: a pint of Ben & Jerry's Chocolate Therapy, a package of the imported chocolate biscuits from the international foods section of the campus store, a bottle of red wine, and—surprisingly—a small bunch of daisies, slightly bent from being stuffed in the bag.

"The flowers were an impulse buy," he explains, looking almost embarrassed. "The cashier was judging my ice cream and alcohol purchase pretty hard. Thought they might make me seem less like an alcoholic with a sweet tooth."

A small laugh escapes Y/N, surprising both of them.

"There she is," Harry says with a gentle smile, holding out the slightly crushed flowers. "Want to tell me what's going on?"

Y/N takes the daisies, twirling them between her fingers. "It's nothing. Just... a bad day."

Harry raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. "A bad day makes you sniffle a bit during a sad commercial. Whatever this is—" he gestures to her tear-stained face "—is more than a bad day."

He moves to her kitchenette, opening drawers until he finds a glass that he fills with water for the flowers. His easy familiarity in her space should irritate her, but somehow it doesn't.

"You don't have to talk about it," he continues, locating spoons for the ice cream. "We can just eat our feelings and get drunk on cheap wine. But if you want to talk... I'm told I'm a surprisingly good listener when I'm not being an insufferable prat."

The self-deprecating comment draws another small smile from Y/N. She watches as Harry efficiently opens the ice cream and pours two glasses of wine, all without his usual performative flourishes or innuendos.

"It's just been..." she starts, then sighs heavily. "Everything's falling apart. My proposal got rejected. I failed my stats midterm. My laptop crashed with my paper on it. And my high school boyfriend is marrying my ex-best friend."

She hadn't meant to share all that, but once she starts, the words tumble out. Harry listens quietly, handing her a glass of wine when she finishes.

"Well, that's properly shit," he says simply. "All of it."

His straightforward acknowledgment of her problems, without immediately trying to fix them or minimize them, loosens something in Y/N's chest. She takes a sip of wine, grateful for its warmth spreading through her.

"Yeah," she agrees. "It is."

Harry guides her to the small couch, setting the ice cream container between them with both spoons stuck in it.

"For what it's worth," he says, digging his spoon into the chocolate therapy, "your ex is an idiot. And your advisor probably has a stick up his arse the size of Big Ben."

Y/N laughs softly, taking her own spoonful of ice cream. "Dr. Winters is a woman, but yes, definitely something large and uncomfortable lodged up there."

Harry grins, and for a moment, they eat in comfortable silence. The rain continues to drum against the windows, but the sound feels cozy now rather than depressing.

"You know," Harry says eventually, "I failed my first university exam. Back in London, before I transferred here."

Y/N looks at him in surprise. "You did?"

He nods, taking another sip of wine. "Spectacularly. Like, set-a-new-record-low kind of failed. My professor actually called me into his office to ask if I was feeling alright or if I'd suffered a recent head injury."

Despite herself, Y/N smiles at the image.

"What happened?" she asks.

Harry shrugs. "I panicked. Stayed up all night studying, then my brain just... empty. Completely blank during the exam." He twirls his wine glass thoughtfully. "I was so embarrassed I didn't tell anyone. Just smiled and nodded when my mates asked how it went."

"What did you do?" Y/N asks, genuinely curious about this glimpse into a less confident Harry.

"Wallowed for about a week," he admits. "Considered dropping out, changing my name, maybe becoming a shepherd in the Scottish highlands."

Y/N laughs, the sound more natural this time. "A shepherd?"

"I look good in wool," he defends with a mock-serious expression, before his face softens again. "But then I talked to my sister. She's always been the smart one in the family. And she told me something I've never forgotten."

He sets down his wine glass and turns to face Y/N fully, his expression earnest.

"She said, 'Harry, failure isn't falling down. It's refusing to get back up again.'"

Y/N absorbs this, feeling something shift in her perspective. She's always seen Harry as someone who glides effortlessly through life—charming, confident, unbothered by the academic pressures that weigh on her. The idea that he's faced similar struggles and insecurities is both surprising and oddly comforting.

"So what did you do?" she asks.

"I got back up," he says simply. "Went to the professor, asked for extra help, studied my ass off for the next exam. Still didn't get top marks, but I passed." He smiles, a genuine smile without his usual cockiness. "And more importantly, I learned I could handle failing without it being the end of the world."

Y/N nods slowly, understanding dawning. "Is that why you're always so... confident? Because you know you can handle it if things go wrong?"

Harry considers this, head tilted thoughtfully. "Maybe partly. But also—" he grins suddenly, a flash of his usual self "—I'm just naturally charming and devastatingly handsome. Can't help that part."

Y/N rolls her eyes, but she's smiling now—a real smile that reaches her eyes.

"And there's the Harry Styles I know," she says dryly. "I was starting to worry you'd been replaced by a surprisingly decent human being."

"Nope, still me," he assures her, popping the 'p' sound. "Just showing you the premium version. Limited time offer, exclusive to crying girls with good taste in ice cream."

They fall into a comfortable rhythm after that, sharing the ice cream and wine as the conversation flows more easily than it ever has between them. Harry tells stories about his childhood in Holmes Chapel, his sister Gemma, and his decision to study abroad. Y/N finds herself reciprocating, sharing anecdotes about growing up with strict parents and her passion for psychology.

As the ice cream disappears and the wine bottle empties, Y/N realizes that her earlier despair has receded. It's not gone completely, her problems still exist, but they no longer feel insurmountable.

"I should probably go," Harry says eventually, noticing the late hour. "Let you get some rest."

Y/N nods, walking him to the door. There's an awkward moment as they stand there, neither quite sure how to end this unexpected evening.

"Thank you," she says finally, meeting his eyes. "For the ice cream and the wine. And... everything else."

Harry smiles, softer than his usual grin. "Anytime, psychology girl. I mean that."

He hesitates, then reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch gentle. "For what it's worth, I think you're brilliant. One setback doesn't change that."

The simple sincerity of his words catches Y/N off guard. There's no teasing, no hidden agenda, just honest appreciation that makes her chest feel warm.

"Even if I'm not in a sorority?" she asks lightly, referencing his protest after she'd beaten him at Game Night.

Harry laughs. "Even then. Though it does make it harder to justify why I let you keep winning at poker."

"Let me?" Y/N raises an eyebrow. "I believe I earned those victories fair and square."

"That's what I let you believe," he says with a wink, and just like that, they're back on familiar ground, the teasing banter that defines their relationship.

Except it's not quite the same anymore. Something has shifted between them tonight, a new understanding that can't be undone.

"Goodnight, Harry," Y/N says softly.

He nods, stepping into the hallway. "Goodnight, Y/N."

As she closes the door behind him, Y/N leans against it, a small smile playing on her lips. Her problems haven't disappeared—tomorrow she'll still need to rewrite her paper, talk to her advisor, and study for her next exam. But somehow, they all seem more manageable now.

She moves to her window, pulling back the curtain just in time to see Harry crossing the street back to the Sigma house, hunched against the rain. As if sensing her watching, he looks up, catching sight of her at the window. He gives her a small wave, which she returns before letting the curtain fall back into place.

Y/N turns to survey her apartment—the empty ice cream container, the wine glasses, the slightly crushed daisies now standing in a water glass on her counter. Physical evidence of the evening that has somehow transformed her worst day into something unexpectedly meaningful.

For the first time since meeting Harry Styles, Y/N finds herself looking forward to seeing what happens next between them—not dreading their next encounter or planning her defensive strategies, but genuinely curious about the person behind the cocky exterior he shows the world.

Taglist: @hisparentsgallery @toosarcastic03 @practistyles @sstyleszzz @sassamanda77 @wheredidmyeyesgo @pbandnutella @triski73 @angeldavis777 @ivegotthecinema @bethiegurl19 @spinninc @spargelhundTaglist: @hisparentsgallery @toosarcastic03 @practistyles @sstyleszzz @sassamanda77 @wheredidmyeyesgo @pbandnutella @triski73 @angeldavis777 @ivegotthecinema @bethiegurl19 @spinninc @spargelhund @loloooo1989

[mercif4l]

(𝗱𝗼𝗻'𝘁 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗺𝗲) 𝗯𝗲𝗴 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂 — ksy

MDNI, this blog is for 18+ users only. blank blogs will be blocked.

pairing: afab!reader x kwon soonyoung

word count: 2.4k

summary: hoshi's second favorite place to be is between your thighs. no flight will take that away from him.

content warning: smut smut smut, boyfriend!hoshi, nudity, explicit sexual acts (dirty talk, oral: f. receiving, fingering, teasing), soonyoung is a brat lmfao

a/n: ty all for the love on the teaser it really means the world 😭 hoshi is a BITER argue with the wall. go listen to charli xcx's 'beg for you' ft vernon! thank u so much to @haologram, @beomcoups, @wonuwoe and @jenoslutie for helping me through the terrors of posting on tumblr for the first time ᥫ᭡

Soonyoung had laughed when you’d taught him about kink vocabulary. The first time you called him a ‘service top’, he’d conflated it with being a milkman or a post officer. He’d had a fit in the Don Quixote cleaning aisle about urban dictionary and spent the whole walk home collating the worst modern sex-terms. 

None of that changed the fact you were right (as always) and he was being over-dramatic (as always). 

Just like he is right now. 

Kissing you like its sleep for the exhausted; with desperation, total familiarity, and a warmth that makes everything a bit hazey. Where the thought of leaving any part of you untouched by his mouth makes him feel physically ill. But he’s on a time crunch, one you won’t let him wistfully ignore, and that means compromises must be made.

It’s shocking how each time he touches you, pinching this and soothing his tongue over that, it feels like the first time. Each kiss followed by a gasp and relieved groan. Is it how he takes his sweet time nibbling beneath your earlobe? Or grazing his nails over the curve of your spine? Or how he flushes pink every time you so much as pant for him? 

Whatever the answer, his reaction remains the same: total pride. Arrogance, really, at the fact he just can and he never has to ask.

In fairness, you’re not doing very well to tame him. Every moan he elicits presses like a gold star to the bottom of his belly, its outline warming the flesh til it burns: a reward for being so good that you can’t hold it in. 

Almost like butterflies, if they were on fire and could make him cum in his pants untouched.

You curl a lock of his hair between your fingers and nudge him over. Away from your chest, away from your fluttering ribcage, away away away, just anywhere but on you. 

Soonyoung whines, because of course he does, and fixates on kissing your palm as you mumble: “Gotta go, baby.” 

They sound like the last words he’ll ever hear from your Venusian lips (Drama.)

But he knows this look. This tone. The non-committal ‘no’ that you try your best to squeeze out. Like a false alarm; a reminder that he can only have so much fun before you run off to prove a point.

So, instead of stopping like you suggest, he brings his forehead up to yours and, with the weight of his entire body, presses you down into the pillows. 

“Wanna… wanna make you feel good. Said you’d let me.” 

God, he’s so whiny. It really would annoy you if it didn’t make your legs cross and your mouth salivate. 

“I know, but—“ All it takes to shut you up is a hump to your thigh, his slacks pulled tight as his bulge leaks onto you. Your eyes close at the wet feeling; he plays you for a fool every time you try to deny him. 

So, instead you finish your own sentence with a resigned “I know.” and decide to at least let him try. 

And he might have successfully hidden his shit-eating grin, were it not now pressed against your stomach. 

“Oh my god, you’re so annoying.” 

A giggle echoes out across the room and whether it’s his or yours, you’re both too excited to notice. Always a bit too distracted with the feeling of each other. “Sorry, sorry baby,” it’s a lie—he’s not sorry at all. 

It’s obvious in the way he bounces down the bed; the twinkle of his eyes as his middle and forefinger lace beneath the waistband of your stockings, gently tugging them down your leg. 

It’s even more obvious in the pleased grumble that follows them all the way down. 

Soonyoung has been scolded one too many times to repeat the same mistake of ripping them off. He knows how bratty you get when your belongings become collateral to his prone bone, how vengeful you can be. How long you’re happy to go without his touch and how painful it is to go without yours. 

His shoulders tense at the memory. The frustration enforced a stark change in behavior all within that one week of celibacy. 

“Always so… so gentle for—mmh, me…. good boy, so good baby,” when you’re like this, it’s the easiest rule to obey in the world. After all, positive reinforcement is the foremost currency for buying Kwon Soonyoung’s patience. 

A shiver stutters through your body, goosebumps forming against his chin as it lies snug against your thigh. 

“Cute.” 

“Shut up..” there’s no hiding the smile this time. It’s plain across his features as he bites his bottom lip.

“Yes, ma’am.” 

Not a moment later and he’s back to nibbling at your flesh (just as an excuse to lick over it). Saliva draws a path up your thigh and you laugh over this obsession he’s developed: the obsession with having his tongue on you. 

It’s hard to forget his bashful admission that ‘tasting every part of you’ turned him on. How his pupils had blown so wide, bright red fingers covering his bright red nose, firm arms curled over his head to obscure your view of his equally bright red ears. 

The same fingers that fluttered at your hips, and the same fingers that sit an inch away from his second favorite place to lie: between your legs (the first being between your arms, as the small spoon, with his head resting on your tits.)

He lets a hot breath trail across your underwear before pressing his nose up against you with a sigh. His hands sneak behind your ass and hold onto you. Not pulling or pushing, just holding. Thrumming. Pressing. 

“You drumming something out down there?”

Your boyfriend nips back at you this time, with a “wouldn’t you like to know.” and his best attempt at a smirk.

“Loser.” it comes as a half-truth, half-joke, but he takes it as a challenge. Typical.

After a single snort, he urges your knees to spread wider with a gentle bite to one side. He practically slobbers his way up to your heat, only closing his soaked mouth when he makes a show of smelling you.

“Gross. Stop it—“ you find it near impossible to overpower him and clamp your legs close, even more irritated by his unbothered face as his toned and slick arms keep you spread. 

“Not gross. Smells good, baby, wanna smell like you…” the crass idea of him wanting to smell like your slick isn’t what shuts you up.

What stuns you to silence is his nose dragging back and forth, side to side, around and around, filling the air with your whimpers as you fuss against the headboard. 

You know that he knows he’s being mean. The layer of fabric between you is leaving so little to the imagination, your want seeping through it, and you just might let him rip them off this time, just to close that distance and finally fucking—

Your imaginary protest is forgotten the second he takes the hem of your underwear between his teeth, dragging them all the way off.

What a pretty mouth.

“Thank you.” you realize a beat too late that you’ve said that out loud. 

The shine of his bared teeth (and the wetness that had collected in your panties, now smothered across his chin) makes you roll your eyes.

You smile back, calling him a “brat.” 

And he was a total brat. And it was totally your fault. 

But there’s no time to enjoy the following silence when he’s so hard that he might pass out. Instead, he lays flat on his stomach and bends one knee, starting to rock against the mattress underneath you both. By the time he finishes making a mess of your skin (and himself), he’s hungry. 

And if he kisses like it’s sleep to the exhausted, then Soonyoung eats like a starved man. 

His own spit mixes with your wetness in one languid, indulgent lick, and suddenly, he’s everywhere. Fast, breathy laps at your clit, his tongue traveling in tight circles, vibrating as he grunts shamelessly on top of you. Your back curves inward as you attempt to muffle your own sighs. 

Desperately trying to hear him mumble away inside you. Try being the key word; its way too much way too quick for you to keep quiet. 

Soonyoung would call it something obnoxious: say it was world-ending, but all the attention and worship from his mouth and hands and the heat of his every breath on you might just justify his drama. 

His lithe fingers and their angel touch—the kind of sensation you’d only be blessed with in heaven. To experience it like this, all sweaty and red and alive, feels a bit like sin.

Feels even better knowing that he’s dry humping himself to a climax over it. 

Happy tears destroy your mascara as he savors you without pause or pity.

The room is warmed by his hopeless whispers of praise: ‘so pretty’, ‘so wet’, ‘thank you’, ‘god’, ‘needed this’ and ‘love you’. With his sweet, sweet moans, and the occasional squeak that means he’s definitely slowing himself down against the mattress to avoid coming before you.

Still, you can’t help but stare at him—even through your bleary eyes. If you weren’t lost in your own unintelligible whimpers, you might think to take a photo. 

The scene is debauched, lewd, and so fucking hot, and all you want is to savor it forever, to keep it on your person like a badge of honor.

His wild eyes flicking between you and your twitching legs, pupils blown so wide you can’t help but purr. The whimpering that catches in his wet throat and comes out obscenely loud anyway. How desperate he is to watch you feeling good, and how the look on your face as he soaks you in his tongue is priceless. 

Soonyoung lifts himself up briefly to spit on his fingers. With the string of saliva collecting on your throbbing pussy, he slides them through your entrance and beckons inward. A come here kind of gesture. The kind he knows will make you squeal and press your thighs hard against his cheeks. 

Your boyfriend knows your body better than his own. Every freckle on your skin, or every mole that appears where you can’t spot it, and seeks it out just so the knowledge is his and his alone; so it can’t be kept by anyone else (and after however many years, this secret is amongst the closest to his heart.)

“God, you’re so wet. so wet baby, so warm too, fuuuuck, so warm.. wanna, hmm gonna, gonna live between your legs. gonna, oh fuck—“ his garbles between your lips entertain you enough to smile. You watch closely when his hips stutter as he works himself up, drool gathering in the corner of his lips at the thought of making you cum like this. 

“So pretty this way… my pretty girl, feels good?” his mouth is salivating, throat mewling as he watches you rock your hips into him, driving against his face so deliciously, presenting yourself to him.

Of course, he takes it. It’s too generous a gift to refuse. 

He knows his favorite present is yet to come but it won’t take much more waiting, the tell tale signs of your orgasm already smothering your face.

The thought turns his eyes into those famous crescent moons and you try to rest your hands beside them, to show him an ounce of affection, but they end up yanking his hair back after one particularly loud slurp against your clit. 

All that sudden vibration catches you totally off guard. It’s messy and long and so desperate that you can’t help but shove his head a little further closer.

His fingers curl slower and slower against that tender spot inside you, so deliberate in caressing it each and every pass that you can’t help but start to shake. 

Your heartbeat is so loud in your ears that you’re almost scared it’s going to stop. Every breath he chases from you is labored and short and you think you might just die, when—

“Gonna come? please, baby, baby… c’mon, don’t make me beg for you.” he’s literally sobbing, begging you not to force a ‘please’ from him, ignorant of the fact that he’s already begged and pleased several times already. It’s no surprise he’s too pussydrunk to notice—he’s always this way. Fucked dumb with the joy of watching you get off.

The image makes your cunt clench around him that bit tighter, too excited and too overstimulated, you can’t help but come. Goosebumps prickle against his skin as your legs wrap tight around his head (and this maybe his other favorite part: holding his breath as you tremor above him.)

And then, they drop, your hips quivering and abdomen seizing as they try to handle your climax. Which might make him upset, if he weren’t busy coaxing you through it with long, wet, licks, one firm hand caressing your lower back as it convulses, the other speeding up as it furls and unfurls within you. Stringing it out just that bit more.

It’s more than enough for Soonyoung to finish, much more embarrassingly, in his pants against the duvet he’d so fervently been jerking over this whole time. 

He whimpers against your soaked cunt and the overstimulation makes you roll over, leaving him face up to your side, hand worming its way into yours.

“Fuck. If I miss my flight— fuck. you’re, ugh I can’t believe I let you— you’re so driving me to the airport.” your tone is directly contradicted by just how tight you squeeze his hand back.

He doesn’t say anything, trying real hard to hide the shit-eating grin on his face. Which only lasts as long as he can hold his laughter (about five seconds) and then he’s thrashing about as you shove him back and forth. 

“Asshole!” 

“Sorry, I’m sorry baby, I just—“ 

“God, you suck—“ 

He turns over at that, resting his cheek on your stomach and looking up at you through his eyelashes. 

“Yea, baby. Yes I do.” 

penned by rowan, still a result of this insane video

[springgirlshowers]

could you do joost x gn reader, but it’s literally just them cuddling in bed during a thunderstorm??

Monsoon Season

Pairing: Joost x GN!Reader (no pronouns used)

CW: none!

WC: 726

AN: such a cutey cute lil concept!! fun fact: i wrote this as it was storming hard as hell outside lmao

Just as you were about to send Joost a text, asking how far away he was, you heard the front door open behind.

As you sat up from your spot on the couch, you were met with Joost standing with grocery bags in his hands, absolutely drenched from the rain.

It had started storming about ten minutes ago and Joost must’ve got caught in the middle of the rain on the way back from a recording session.

“I got the stuff you said we needed for dinner.” Joost gave you an amused smile as he held up the bag.

You immediately got up and went over to him, as much as you tried not to, you giggled at a bit at his soaked state.

“Thank you.” You smiled, giving him a small kiss, “Now, I’ll put these away, you go change.” You said as you took the bags from his hands, he just nodded and kicked off his shoes, walking down the hallway into your shared bedroom to change into drier clothes.

You put the groceries into the fridge and kitchen cabinets while waiting for Joost to get finished changing.

You were already done putting everything away by the time he returned, wearing a pair of sweatpants and a green hoodie, camouflage patterns on the hood. His hair had dried a bit more, now messier.

Joost walked up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Better?” You asked, putting your hands on top of his.

“Mhm, much.” He let out a happy breath. It felt so peaceful in the apartment, the hard rain from outside with the warm light from the lamp in the living room made the perfect cozy atmosphere.

Until a flash of lightning and loud rumble of thunder struck outside, scaring and making both of you jump of you a tiny bit.

“The weather app said it’s gonna be like this for the next few days.” You sighed, turning around in his grasp.

“I guess we’ll be stuck inside for the next few days then.” He moved his hands from your waist to the sides of your face, you nearly shuddered when felt how cold his palms were.

“You’re really cold. You’re sure you feel better?”

“I could use some warming up.” He shrugged, a knowing smirk on his face. You rolled your eyes playfully, letting him take your hands and drag you into the bedroom.

You got into bed first, shuffling under the sheets while Joost followed, laying on top of you.

“I’m so tired. Today was so exhausting.” He mumbled against your chest. Joost enjoyed making music, but this feeling wasn’t uncommon for him after being at the studio for hours on end.

“How’s the album going?” You hummed, pulling the blankets up over the both of you.

“Its frustrating. Nothing is turning out the way I want it to.” He let out an annoyed sigh at the thought of it. “I’m honestly just thinking about scrapping most of the songs because of it.”

“Oh come on, you’ll get them how you want them eventually.” You frowned. “You always do.” You added, hoping it would bring some relief.

“You really think so?”

“I know so.” You ran your hands through his hair, he let out a pleased breath and wrapped his arms a little bit tighter around you in response.

Even though you didn’t have a good look at his face, you could feel his smile against your skin.

The sound of the rain hitting the window and soft thunder in the distance with the warmth of your body against his and you raking your hands through his hair made him feel the most relaxed he’s been in weeks.

It didn’t take long after for his eyelids to become droopy, eventually shutting his eyes in complete bliss.

“I was thinking dinner tomorrow could be pasta. But you might have to go back into the rain again to get the noodles.” You joked, there was no response from Joost.

“Joost?” You said softly, no response again.

Craning your neck a bit to get a better look at his face, you could see he was absolutely knocked out.

His eyes shut, lips slightly parted, face completely relaxed. You smiled to yourself, deciding maybe you could let him sleep for a little bit before you got up.

[miley1442111]

treatment plan (part 2)- a.hotchner

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

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

summary: aaron oversteps and it starts a fight.

pairing: aaron hotchner x insomnia! reader

warnings: angst, discussions of insomnia and feeling 'different' because of it, mental health, crying, happy ending, aaron is insecure, fighting, suggestive at the end

part of this au:

insomniac

treatment plan (part 1)

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

You walked into work the next day, exhausted and rather irritated. Aaron was a tyrant as he shouted and screamed about anything small anyone did wrong, even when Derek made a dumb joke on the plane. The case was tough, three girls gone missing with nothing to connect them, apart from their clothing. You had nothing to go off of, and on top of it, it was a dead of winter in fucking Maine. Freezing didn't even begin to cover it. 

“This is a shithole,” you sighed as you walked into your hotel room. You knew Aaron was behind you, you knew he was going to try to talk to you, and in all honesty, you didn’t give a shit. You had absolutely no time for him. He’d called you selfish. When you did everything he asked of you, and more. Pathetic. He was the selfish one. 

“We’re in a remote town, what were you expecting,” his calm, yet cutting voice drove the wedge further between you, and suddenly the room became much colder. 

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, sarcasm dripping from your voice. “A Four Season’s?”

He scoffed. “Maybe then you’d actually sleep.”

He noticed how your face fell, and he really noticed when you locked yourself in the bathroom, taking a very long time to shower. He sighed as he sat on the bed, his pyjamas on, but he wasn’t tired. He was just… upset? Annoyed? Guilty? He wasn’t sure. What he did know was that he was sorry. He wanted you to come back home, come back to him. He wanted to hold you as you slept soundly under him, when you weren’t plagued with your anxieties and stress of the day. Those peaceful moments where you wouldn’t look back at him, because when you did he felt himself open. He felt like a raw, open wound when you looked at him. He often felt stupid because of it. Were you as affected by him as he was you? Was your world constantly flipped on its head every time he walked into the room like his was when you did?  

No, because Aaron Hotchner, boring, logical, unemotive, shy, Aaron Hotchner was nowhere near your excellence or beauty. Nowhere near your humour and tantalising smile. Nowhere near you emotional expressions and unwilling intelligence. 

Aaron knew he had no chance with you from the get-go, and he had been shocked when you’d asked him out, after months of pining after you. As he watched you with Jack, with the team, he saw himself slowly falling into your orbit, and falling in love. 

And he fucked it up, all because he was worried, and far too logical for love to work. 

He turned off his light and turned over. He didn’t turn around and comfort you when he heard your soft sobs, and he only let himself cry when he was sure you were asleep. God, why couldn’t you two just talk?

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

You woke up before Aaron, a rare thing, so you took full advantage. You left the hotel before him, got to the precinct first, and kept going with the case, Spencer and Emily by your side. When Aaron came in thirty minutes later, you were already on your way out to interview the families with Jj, so he couldn’t talk to you. 

You two were called back after another body had been found later that day, the sky already dark as you two pulled up to the scene. Aaron was waiting. 

“I’ll take Agent Y/l/n, you can go back to the precinct Jj, thanks.”

And there was no room for arguing.  

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

You and Aaron walked onto another crime scene, the dark sky and minimal light making the small path difficult to see. You didn’t even want to be around Aaron, let alone around him in a professional setting. Everyone on the team knew what was going on because Penelope cannot keep things to herself. You stepped, squinting to see the tiny dirt path through the trees and bam, you were sliding down a mud hill. 

“Fuck!” you shouted, finally stopping at the bottom. You were covered in mud, you were exhausted, and you were upset. Not a good mix. You felt the tears of frustration well up in your eyes, but swallowed them down when Aaron came to your rescue.

“Are you hurt?” he asked frantically, checking your body for cuts and bruises. “Y/n!”

“I’m fine Aaron, I just slipped,” you sigh, getting up with his help. “I’ll head back to the hotel and shower, I’ll see you in the morning-”

“Let me come with you, please,” he pleaded. You reluctantly agreed and off you two went, back to the hotel. 

You stood in the lobby, muddy and cold as Aaron got the room keys. 

He stared at you as you waited for the elevator.

“Let’s go Aaron,” you sighed. You walked in silence to your room, and when you went into the bathroom, locking the door behind you, Aaron sat on the bed and sighed. What the fuck was he going to do? 

He’d fucked up before, but not like this. He knew he was pushing you when he said what he said, but he was just so scared, so worried, so… uncontrolled. He didn’t know what to do, a new feeling for him. 

“Y/n,” he called from the other side of the bathroom. “I’m sorry.” 

He heard you mumble something. “Can I come in?” He asked. Suddenly the door was unlocked and he was let in. 

“What do you want?” You asked, washing your hair in the bath. Aaron gulped, god you were gorgeous. 

“I’m sorry about the fight,” he admitted, trying to keep his thoughts off your body. “I know I should’ve respected your decision, but I’m really fucking scared. I’m really, really scared. I’ve never had to think about this, and with all the awful facts Reid keeps telling me-”

“You need to stop listening to him,” you chuckled. “And I understand. It can be a lot, even for me.”

While you were annoyed at him, you understood where he was coming from. This was scary. The statistics were scary. The diagnosis was scary. He was just trying to look out for you, like he always does, and maybe a part of what he was saying was right. Maybe you should keep trying, it just gets hard when you are constantly told that you’re untreatable. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “Can we start talking to each other again?”

You chuckled. “Yeah, and I’m sorry I ran away.” 

“I deserved it,” he chuckled. “So…?”

“So… I will go back to looking for treatment,” you said and his face lit up. “But if it gets too much for me I will stop again. And I’m not selfish for doing that.”

He nodded. “I’m sorry I ever said that, you’re the most selfless person I've ever met.”

“And also,” you added. “I love you, but you cannot keep taking your frustrations out on me and expect me to be alright. That’s not fair.”

“I promise,” he nodded. 

“Then, I think we’re back to normal,” you smiled, pressing a kiss to his hand. “Love you.”

“I love you too,” he smirked, allowing his mind to focus on other things…

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

criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)

criminal minds taglist :) (message me or comment to be added :))

@princess76179

@khxna

@hiireadstuff

[bonny-kookoo]

oh my GOD ninny- i LOVED the fricking drabble for princess! Please, force feed us more!!!! 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Let's see.. oh yeah, how about I tell you about the time he put MC on her fridge?

"We bought that for the entire week, not just today." Jungkook scolds you, closing the fridge again right into your face. "You can't just eat everything at once." He explains, and you cross your arms, annoyed.

"It's not like I don't have the money for it." You huff, glaring at him. "It wasn't even all that expensive-"

"But it's wasteful." He argues. "You'll open all the packages, and then stuff gets bad quicker. Wasting food is a no-go." He denies you, and nod after a moment, feeling a bit ashamed about it.

Jungkook is really trying to help you get used to a normal life- because he plans on making that a possibility for you, once he gets you out of that slave contract. And its obvious he, to some degree, has to start at the very basics of living on your own, and that includes things such as this. You've never learned how to pace your emotions at all, and so he can't blame you for getting so overly excited about all the groceries you bought today- wanting to eat them all at once, no feeling of hunger or appetite at all.

Or more so, you have a constant appetite, at all times- but no idea how to really listen to your body if it's just a craving, or genuine hunger.

And it's not just food you seem to have this problem with- it's also other aspects of life. Be it at dance practice where you can get so excited about things that you almost faint on him due to exhaustion, and whenever you're comfortable, you'll sleep until you get a headache from it. You have barely any feeling for time, you never got taught how to use money and how to value it, and you also never been out as much as these days with him.

He will probably forever remember that ride on the bus with you, simply because you were so in awe of everything around you. In a way, it's also interesting to him, because all the things that are normal and boring to him, are mesmerizing to you.

The second he's not looking at you however, you're back at the fridge, and frankly, he's had enough of your antics today. So with not much thought, he picks you up, and puts you right on top of the small fridge you have in your apartment, before stepping back.

"Let me down!" You argue, but he just shakes his head. "This isn't funny-"

"Never said it was." He tells you. "But you get what you deserve. I told you, you've been really testing me today, and I can really only take so much." He explains, making your curled tail unravel in shame as you realize how exhausting you must've been for him. And the moment he sees that, he walks closer again, carefully getting you back down to look at you. "I'm not angry at you. Just a little exhausted." He jokes, and you nod.

"M' sorry." You apologize, but he just pets your head playfully, before he walks towards your couch, where you sit down as well. "What're you doing?" You ask, and he shrugs, before he lays down.

"I need to recharge." He tells you. "Babysitting is making me tired, you know?" He teases, but much to his surprise, you instead quietly lay down next to him, even going as far as to cuddle up, before you wait, most likely for any sort of reaction.

But all you get, is his arm around you, pulling you in more comfortably-

quietly accepting not only the close proximity, but so much more.

[rainchyna]

𓆩♡𓆪 episode thirteen: Despite Everything.

it's me! despite everything, it's still me. we are so back.

1:34 am — hotel room. wednesday, sep. 4th, 1996.

You were still awake, despite being exhausted beyond belief, you still couldn’t fall asleep. The stress of not knowing where your career was heading was getting the best of you. You were just laying there, not moving as you watched life outside the bedroom window. Apart from a car driving by every once in a while, nothing was happening.

You were resting your head on Hunter's shoulder, his muscular arms around your waist loosely as he faced you in his sleep. He looked so peaceful, handsome, a tiny snore occasionally escaping his lips. Careful as not to wake him up, you untangle yourself from him, quietly tucking him in, and slowly, you make your way to the bathroom. You close the door behind you and sigh, then you sit on top of the toilet’s lid. Your mind began racing yet again, everything was going so well, and here comes Shawn Michaels. You wondered how many people have had that same thought as you.

That heel turn was really getting to your head, you were y/n y/l/n, the women’s champion. The most credible one Vince has had in years, but now, you were y/n y/l/n, Shawn Michaels’ ‘girlfriend’, then the women’s champion. How long will it be until your championship loses its value again? What if you can’t keep the promise you made to Alundra?

You look up, your reflection in the mirror looking back into your eyes.

It’s you.

A knock at the door startles you, you exhale, you must’ve been in here for a while. You get up and open the door, Hunter standing there shirtless, one hand rubbing his eye and the other running through his messy blond locks. “Where’d you go?” he asks quietly, voice heavy with sleep. You sigh, “I couldn’t sleep.” you admit. He gently caresses your cheek with his knuckles, his other hand coming to hold your hip through his t-shirt that you wore to bed. “What’s wrong, angel?” he coos, pressing a kiss against your head, as he pulls you against his broad chest.

“Stressed.” you say, voice breaking a little. Hunter frowns at the sound of exhaustion in your voice, he hated how defeated you sounded. He lifted you up, his big hands on your thighs, holding them around his hips. He turned off the bathroom light, not caring to close the door. He brought you back to bed, holding you tightly against him as he sits on the edge, “do you wanna talk about it, my love?” he asked, his hand gently massaging your neck.

You cuddle into him some more, burying your face into the crook of his neck. “Can we talk about it in the morning?” you quietly mumble into his skin, Hunter holds you tighter, “of course, baby. Anything you need. Tell me what you need from me now.” he says, voice still deep.

“Love me.” you mutter, and he immediately does as he’s told. Hunter laid you down on the bed, climbing over you and pressing soft kisses on your neck, then down between your thighs.

6:00 am— airport, germany to italy. Estimated time of arrival, 7:35.

The flight from germany to italy wasn’t a long one, under two hours. Everyone was at the airport, waiting for the flight to be called. Some were at a cafe getting breakfast, some were asleep in their seats as it was still early, some chatting and minding their own business. You were sat on a three seat bench by a big glass wall that showed planes on the outside, taking flight, landing, rerouting as the clouds rolled by. Hunter was laying his head on your lap, he was asleep and covered with your leather jacket. You ran fingers through his soft waves, gazing outside the window. On the opposite bench sat Shawn, Chyna asleep with her head on his shoulder, and Lita asleep on her shoulder.

Shawn’s eyes were burning holes into your body, but you completely ignored him, something you hadn’t done in a long time. You didn’t even give him the slightly annoyed ‘good morning’ today, oh, he knew you were pissed at him for the heel turn he forced on you. But he was also slightly mad, a little irritated when he had no right to be. You were wearing light wash, low waisted jeans which fit you like a glove, but also showed off your toned abs, and a black fitted cropped shirt.

 How fucking dare you look this good at six in the morning? What annoyed him even further was the fact that he could see hickeys on your neck, your poor attempt (if you could call it that) at hiding them with keeping your hair down being nothing but that. A poor attempt.

He looked down at his sleeping friend, yeah, well, he clearly was up all night. Shawn looked back up at you, wondering, is there a way, or even a world in which you’d get over the little stunt he and Vince pulled on you? Would you forgive and forget? Not forgive, nor forget? Forgive, and not forget? Not forgive, and forget-

His train of thought was cut by Chyna shifting a little, he gently patted her head. His eyes drifted back to you.

Hunter had sat up, stretching as he yawned. Hunter placed his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him and kissing your temple. “Do you want a coffee, baby? I can go grab us sandwiches, too.” you say, your fingers intertwined with his. “You’re such a godsend.” Hunter says, kissing your temple again. 

‘How clingy.’ Shawn thought, rolling his eyes a little then looking out the window. As if that wouldn’t be him, or even worse. 

You and Hunter got up, heading to a random cafe at your gate. Your hand was in his as you two sat in a booth after putting your order, Hunter sat next you and you leaned against him. You pulled out a small journal and a pen from your speedy bag, the journal you wrote all your wrestling related thoughts and ideas in. After talking to Hunter about everything that was flooding your mind earlier, you had felt significantly better. You actually felt a little silly for letting it overwhelm you as much as it did, and as you began writing down, Hunter teased you a bit. “Someone’s inspired” he chuckled, jokingly pinching your cheek. You smiled, writing down all the ways you could reinvent your character while doing that stupid angle with Shawn. Even if it was stupid, you were going to make it unforgettable, like you.

“Thanks to my lovely boyfriend.” you smile.

The waiter brought your order, two coffees and two breakfast sandwiches, you look at the dark brown drink in the white mug.

Your reflection on the surface looked back into your eyes, you smiled.

It’s still you.

9:37 pm — monday, sep. 9th, RAW.

You were sitting in the dressing room chair, obnoxious gear on. Tonight, you and Shawn wore white and gold, chains and jewellery adorned your skirt and halter neck top, along with your white cowboy hat. You had been slowly regaining your confidence throughout the day, thanks to your incredible friends, and more advice from the Undertaker. You were beginning to feel like the true star you were, unwanted heel turn be damned, you were going to do what you knew best. Be the best champion, like you always have been.

As you finished applying your makeup, you placed your championship belt in your lap, grabbing some tissues and cleaning it. As you wiped the leather and metal plates, someone walked into the dressing room. Shawn, of course. He didn’t really matter to you, you two had an interview with Vince coming up and some commentary duties, he was probably here to get ready, too.

Shawn, like always, shamelessly ogled you, staring at your legs, and the cleavage your top left out. His mouth went dry as he peeled his eyes away from you, always a sight for the sorest of eyes. 

He grabbed a hairbrush and sat in the chair next to yours, “are you ready?” he asked. You didn't even spare him a glance, continuing to clean up your belt. “Mhm.” you hum with a nod, Shawn looked at you for a second, damn, you didn’t even acknowledge his presence.

He applied some gel on his hair, absentmindedly brushing it as he looked at you through the mirror. You both sat there, in silence, and the tension was so painfully present between you. Shawn finished brushing his hair, then put on sunglasses, he looked at you again, trying to think of what he can say.

“Look-..” he began, only for you to immediately cut him off, “Don’t.” you say. 

He quietly slumped into his seat, “I’m not going to let you ruin my mood.” you add, finally looking at him. He quickly looked away, hiding behind his shaded frames. “Do you want us to work together?” you asked. He looked back at you, almost eagerly answering, “I do, I really do.”

“Then, don't ever do anything behind my back ever again. If you want to do something, you come to me.” you say, tone strict. He nods immediately, “Yes, okay.”

You exhale, you were going to make the best out of this heel run.

You look up at yourself in the mirror, confidence beaming through your eyes.

Despite Everything, It’ll always be you.

[luveline]

tiny baby blurb of rockstar!remus and new to the band!reader just dealing with everything together if that's okay!

thank u for ur request ♡ fem!reader

"What are they doing?"

Remus steps up to the window beside you, looking down at the crowd as it flows forward like a crashing wave. Sirius and James are small as grains of rice from so far below, but they are unmistakably themselves. 

"I hope they get trampled."

"We'd be missing half the band," you argue. 

"We could make it work. We're good like that." 

You lean into his side tentatively, wanting to know what he'll do. His hand comes up immediately to curve over your shoulder, his forearm pressed to your shoulder blade. He presses his cheek to the top of your head, the distinct smell of his chamomile cologne awakening with his movements. 

It's as calming as his touch. 

Remus, through everything, has been by your side. Physically and emotionally. His hand warms a path from the hill of your shoulder to the straight column of your neck, his lips touching your temple as he asks, "You okay, dove?" 

Things have been hectic lately, mainly tonight. The hotel room behind you is an explosion of clothes; jackets and shirts and a hundred pairs of trousers strewn about. There are socks on the TV stand, your clean underwear tipped and toed aside by the bottom of your bed. Remus promised to help you tidy up before this distraction, and you're wondering if he'd help you tidy up the mess in your head, if you asked. 

"I think I'm really tired," you confess quietly. 

Remus does kiss you, then, on the top of your head. It has your pulse roaring to life like a motor with its pull cord yanked out. It wouldn't shock you if they looked at your heart and found it spinning in circles. Yet he's always so casual about touching you, like it doesn't wobble the earth on its axis for him as it does you, so you try not to react. You're content to be doted on by him if doting is all it is. 

But you'd like a little more than that, too. 

"We'll clear off the bed and sleep." 

See, what's that? He's offering to get into bed with you? 

You pick at the caulking around the window. With the sun shining from an angle as it sets, gold light crawls up your arms. If you look into the diamond of shadow in the corner, you can see your two faces reflected. You look morosely exhausted. Remus looks handsomely concerned, half his face hidden where he's turned his cheek to your skin. His hand roams across your shoulder to the right most side, a half hug. 

"Is it a different kind of tired?" he asks gently. 

"I'm okay." You feel better the longer he touches you. He worries a lot about how you're coping under the pressure of the band, but he doesn't need to. "You know, I can do this, but only because you're with me." 

"That's not true, is it?" he asks, pulling your face into his neck for a quick squeeze. 

Remus' hand rubs a rougher pattern into the top of your arm before he separates from you, leaving you to miss the heat and security of his touch. 

"You don't need me to do this. You forget how impressive you are. Now come and help me put this away," he says.

You tear away from the window and the last lingering effects of his hug. "Can't you do it for me?" you joke, looking down at him where he's kneeled to begin folding your trousers. You're so tired that the idea of sitting down with him to put your clothes away feels akin to climbing Mount Everest. 

"Not unless you want me looking through your knickers, dove." 

You bite the inside of your cheek, suddenly much more awake. "I'll do it," you say. 

"These ones are cute," he says, reaching for a pair of black ones peeking out from under the bed frame. 

You drop to your knees and shove his shoulder, forcing his hand away. "I'll do it!" you repeat, your face burning with embarrassment. 

His answering laugh is especially annoying. Annoying and so, so charming. 

[purplecoffee13]

Mr. Sunshine - part 2

Part 1 & Series Masterlist & General Masterlist

Summary: “You start tutoring Harry, the two of you grow closer, and you get more and more confused with the way you feel about him.”

Wc: 4K

Tropes: grumpy!MC x sunshine!H

Warnings: none. Just Harry being a cutie and bantering with Y/N

"Wait... which one do metanarratives belong to again?"

"Lyotard!"

"Oi, chill out, sunshine! You're giving me too much information at the same time. Everything and everyone is beginning to look the same to me." Harry sighs, leaning back in his seat.

You and him had been going over different literary theories for the past few weeks. You felt it was necessary for him to be able to explain each theory at the top of his head, both for his upcoming re-sit as for his own benefit. It'd make it easier to identify said theories in the reading material you got from the course.

Your jaw clenched at his nickname for you. He had been using it ever since the first session. You knew he did it to annoy you, and it was most definitely sarcastic. If anything, you should call him sunshine. He is quite literally Mr. Sunshine. Always smiling, always happy and never put down by the weight of the world.

Asshole.

"The Postmodern Condition quite literally revolves around metanarratives. Or well, its skepticism towards it." You explain to him what feels like the thousandth time.

You aren't exactly annoyed with repetition; you knew what you were getting yourself into. You are simply frustrated with the fact that it seems like Harry doesn't want to remember what he's studying. You know he's smart, and you know he can memorize things quite quickly, but these literary theories seem to be kicking him in the butt.

You, however, have found that with enough nagging and fed up glares he puts in the work you know he's capable of. He likes your stern attitude, maybe it motivates him better, you think.

Harry has been loving your tutoring hours, and he never wants it to end. He loves postmodernism and post-structuralism, and knows more about the subjects than the professor of your course, but he made sure not to tell you. It would just be two more things for you to explain to him, and an opportunity for more tutoring sessions to attend.

He knows that you have been trying to be nice, and he sees that you've been enjoying helping him. Those soft sides of you, though they didn't come out often, were like seeing rays of sunshine through a cloud. But he loved your storm, and frankly, he was getting a bit freaked out at how non aggressive you were being towards him. So he found other ways to get on your nerves, and boy did it work.

"Right, right... I'm hungry, wanna eat something?" Harry changes the subject once again. He has been unwilling to study this whole session. It seems like this week he has lost all motivation and it is irritating you to no end. He almost has all the necessary theories down, but it appears as if he doesn't want to remember them.

"No! We aren't done yet. C'mon, you literally almost got it." You growl, the frustration dripping from your voice. Arms crossed, you stare at him and watch as he leans forward to you with a deviant smirk on his face.

"Get food with me and I promise I'll be a good student." He tries to bargain.

"I don't know why you're trying to bribe me with your obedience. These tutoring sessions are beneficial to you, not me." You cross your arms, leaning back into your seat. You are exhausted from all the studying too, but you know that if he just puts his mind to it, it won't take longer than ten minutes for Harry to have everything memorized. But of course, he needs to take the difficult route...

"How do you feel about burgers? I'm not really in the mood for pizza tonight." Harry ignores you and takes his phone out of his pocket.

"Harry!" You groan, throwing your head back in frustration.

"Fine, sunshine, if you really want pizza we'll go to Alessandro's." He sounds like a defeated child, and despite the migraines Harry caused you, a smile grew on your face.

"I hate you." You simply say, fighting the corners of your lip from tugging up.

"You love me. It's okay, you can admit it. I love you too, you know?" Harry just grins at you. Your jaw is clenched and you roll your eyes, and he celebrates before you even say the word, because he's learned everything about your body language when it comes to his. Rolling your eyes means he's won you over.

When Harry closes his books and starts packing up, you frown. "What do you think you're doing? We're going right back to studying after dinner."

"I know." He shrugs, continuing to put away his stuff.

"Then why are you putting your books in your bag?"

"Because we're going out to eat." Harry says, getting up and putting on his jacket. Not once does he meet your eye. His casual tone has you dumbfounded.

"I thought you were ordering pizza." You squint your eyes at him, trying to get him to stay. Why did he insist on all the hassle anyway?

"You don't want pizza." He replies in a calm tone as he begins packing up your books for you. You look up at him, your glance shooting down to the necklace that dangles below his face as he leans over you. His scent takes over your entire nose, and you feel yourself get a little distracted from it. Just for a second, though. You are quick to regain your senses.

"Don't tell me what I feel." You growl at him. Harry doesn't do anything but chuckle at your — to him — weak attempt at shoving him away. Not today, he thinks. Not ever.

"When we got pizza two weeks ago, you said you can only have it every few months, otherwise you'll get sick of it." Harry says, and you feel you ears go red. You had said that. And he had remembered it.

What a weirdo.

After a few moments of silence, you decided to speak up. After all, he was being nice and all, so you figured you owed him a reply at the very least.

"Where is this stupid hamburger place anyway?"

************************************************

"I can't believe you still haven't had enough." You say, eyes wide as you watch Harry completely demolish what's left on your plate after you gave up on clearing it.

He ate so much, which wasn't particularly weird for a guy built like him. He needed the food, it was fuel to him and he had mentioned that he hadn't eaten a lot today. Still, you find yourself fascinated at just how much he manages to eat.

"Oi, stop shaming me."

"I'm not shaming, just observing." You shrug, letting your gaze fall into the rest of the diner where Harry drove the both of you tonight. It was a bit old fashioned, had some of that 50's retro feel to it. Reminded you of Grease. You loved that movie.

You find two of the waitresses giggling and staring at Harry while whispering things to each other. When they catch your gaze, their eyes widen for a second, before they both turn their back to you and get back to work. Weird.

"What are you glaring at?" Harry asks before taking a drink from his coke. You eyes shoot back to his. You hadn't realized you were glaring. No wonder the girls didn't dare hold your eyes.

"I'm not glaring, this is just my face." You give him a sarcastic smile, fiddling with the straw of your drink. Harry, sipping on that drink of his, still manages to conjure somewhat of a smile which he happily throws at you. You feel yourself envy him for it. That lightness he carries with him, the way he uncomplicates things with the light of his smile. It's unfair, and yet there is no way in which you could ever be mad at him for it.

"Can I ask you a question?" You say it before you can stop yourself. This so isn't you, why would you ask permission to ask him a question? What has gotten into you?

"Yes, they're real." Harry strokes a finger over his mouth and pulls it into a naughty smile.

"Harry..." you urge.

"You can ask me anything, sunshine." He assures you before taking the last piece of your hamburger in his mouth, and you ignore how your cheeks warm up at the way he says your name.

"How are you always so... happy?" You tilt your head a bit as you ask the question. You wait until Harry has swallowed his food and took another gulp of his drink before finally saying something.

"I regularly get laid."

Your eyes widen in horror. Of course you wouldn't get anything close to a serious answer from him. That's what irritated you about him. It wasn't the part where insinuating that he was sleeping with other people bothered you, it was the part where he took everything as a joke. Yeah, that was the part that annoyed you the most. Harry starts laughing at your shocked face.

"What? It's true." He chuckles. "It's way easier to have a positive outlook on life if you aren't sexually frustrated."

It stays quiet between the two of you. It is a moment in which you pretend you do not find his answer funny, and where he pretends he doesn't know you do actually find it funny.

"Can I ask you a question?" Harry asks, and you nod, hoping the subject will be changed now. That vulnerable moment of yours didn't unravel the way you hoped it would. Nothing ever unravels the way you think it will around Harry.

"How come I've never seen you at a party?"

You shrug. "Maybe you haven't looked hard enough."

"I have." Harry doesn't miss a beat with responding to you. "You're never there. You hate people that much?"

"I don't hate people." You suddenly feel defensive. You never quite mind having people think of you as a the boring silent girl or the buzz killer, but Harry just confronting you with it hits harder than it should. Maybe it's because he's saying it, or maybe it's because of your past experiences. Either way, it's bothering you.

"Then what is it?" He keeps pushing.

"None of your goddamn business." You snap at him; your standard method to keep people as far away as you can. But Harry shakes his head, making a disapproving noise.

"Nope. I answered your question, you answer mine. An eye for an eye, my friend." He argues casually. Silence befalls the two of you as you ponder on how to answer that. You half expected him to throw out some profanities and leave, like you think the average person would have done if they had been snapped at like that, so now you're at a loss for words.

"I don't like to drink."

"That's why you don't go to parties?"Harry frowns in a way where you know he doesn't fully believe you. You ignore it, and shrug you shoulders.

"I guess, yeah." You slowly nod, quite satisfied with your answer of choice. It's partly honest and believable, although Harry doesn't quite seem to.

"You don't have to stop yourself from going to a party just because you don't like to drink." Harry tilts his head.

"Yeah, thanks for the advice." You attempt to smile at him but it your mouth just twists very awkwardly and so you shoot your head down. You get up from the booth, and gather your stuff.

"I'm gonna go the bathroom, and then we're going to continue studying." You say, not even waiting for an answer before you walk away.

When you come back, Harry is already waiting by the door with his coat on. You frown and try to walk past him to the table, where you see some cash laying. But Harry grabs your arm and pulls you towards him before you can pass him. You look up at him with big eyes; you're caught off guard by his touch.

He opens the door for you and puts a hand the small of your back, leading you back to the car. He doesn't take it off of you, even though you're already outside.

"How much was it?"

"It's taken care of."

"How much was it?"

"Consider it a payment for your tutoring services." Harry says as he opens the car door for you.

"Harry!" You cross your arms, scowling at him. He chuckles at your angry demeanor. He chuckles! You couldn't believe him, he thought your anger was funny?! "You pay me in coffee. Just let me pay you back."

"It's really okay, Y/N. I was the one who wanted to go out to eat, I was happy to pay." He says, keeping his eyes on you as he takes a hold of your crossed arms and pushed you into the passenger seat. For some reason, you let him. And he knows you are letting him do this, and it makes the grin on his face grow even more. "Feet in."

You hesitantly follow his orders, but your crossed arms and scowl remain. Your eyes widen when Harry grabs your seatbelt and leans over you to buckle it. You want to be mad at the way he's handling you like a toddler, but then again you are acting like that out of some form of defiance to him paying for you. But it's mostly the smell of his perfume that washes any anger or resentment you might have towards him away. You stare breathlessly at the few curls that hangs before his face and you realize you haven't ever seen anyone this beautiful.

Harry doesn't look at you when he pulls away, or as he closes your door and walks to the drivers' seat. He doesn't even glance at you when he's buckling his own seatbelt or starting the car. But you do. You stare at him like a freak. When the car starts you get thrown out of your trance, and you realize... fuck. You need to get laid.

************************************************

You:

Hey

Harry:

Hey sunshine

You:

you reply fast

Harry:

only if it's important ;)

You:

🙄… I wanted to say thanks for the dinner again. I hope it wasn't too expensive.

Harry:

it was my pleasure sunshine. And it wasn't :)

You:

are you sure? I mean the prices of these food joints keep getting higher and higher

Harry:

I'm not going to let you pay your part.

You:

come on! why not? I don't want to feel like I owe you anything

Harry:

I owe you more than you owe me. You're the one tutoring me.

You:

still...

Harry:

dinner is on me. End of discussion.

besides, a gentleman always pays on the first date.

You stare at your screen, wide eyes. How does he always know how to shut you up?

Harry:

that's what I thought. Goodnight sunshine xx

************************************************

"I think you got it." You sigh, leaned back in your seat as you look at Harry, who is sitting across from you. His eyebrows knit together, and he shakes his head.

"I don't know..."

"Harry, you're going to ace this re-sit. I promise, you know more about literary theories than I did when I made the test, and I got an A." You assure him.

Ever since your shared dinner, Harry insisted on meeting up three times a week instead of two. Sometimes he would even plead for four, and since you had quite literally no friends and thus no social life, you agreed. It was kind of pathetic, but you had begun to realize that you might have just become a loner out of habit, not because you necessarily love being on your own more than being around people.

It had dwelled on you, that thought. The idea that you maybe had been a people person after all, but that no one wanted to hang out with you, which made you grumpy and hurt and caused you to push people away. But you knew that it wasn't a thought, it was a realization. You had pushed the happiness of other people's company away because what happened in the past had scared you too much.

Harry looks at you, unsure. You don't like seeing him this insecure, even though you know it's just his nerves for the re-sit on Friday. Over the weeks you have gained this need to see him happy, which has confused you to the very max. But you can't help it, it doesn't look right when he's anything but cheery.

"How about you go over your notes, find your weak points, and memorize the fuck out of those. And then I'll go over everything with your on Friday morning." You offer, and he nods, grabbing the papers and starting to wade through them. His face is bundled up into a serious, concentrated frown. His concentration face is the closest you think you're ever going to be to seeing his angry face.

You sit in silence for the next five minutes as you wait for him to highlight all the points he wants some more clarification on. You drink the last of your caramel macchiato and get up to throw it away. Harry's eyes shoot up towards you, and he sits up a little straighter. You have noticed over the past two months that Harry is very observant of your every move.

A couple more minutes go by in which he silently studies the papers in his hands and you're cleaning up the mess you both have made on the desk. The amount of books and notes and scribbles have gone into these months of tutoring is insane. Besides your uni work, this is the most effort you've ever put into something, or better said someone. But it was worth it. You're staring at him and you think yes, yes it was worth it.

If there's anything that you have learned from your limited time with him, it's that he might just be the only one whose annoying features don't annoy you.

You thought that maybe your introverted character was just you shutting out anyone who would dare to come to close, and maybe it was, partly at least, but you had realized that there was a reason you didn't talk to a lot of people. They were insufferable!

You had tried, after your dinner with Harry, to be more social in class. Maybe even 'get laid' as Harry had so eloquently described. At the end of the day, he was kind of right. And you thought that maybe you just had some kind of stick up your ass that needed to be removed.

But you soon realized that it wasn't all you. People were annoying. So, in the end you only got a bit closer to your roommate. She was cool, and like Harry, her presence didn't make you want to rip your hair out.

You know, though, that with Harry it's different. It's extra comforting and extra calming, but you aren't quite ready to admit that to yourself. It's best to ignore it, especially because after these tutoring sessions, the contact between you and him would have to come from his own free will. And you didn't think you were fun enough for him to stay friend with voluntarily.

"Okay." Harry sighs, leaning back as he threw the paper on the table. He's so tired; his eyes are a bit red. He really needs to sleep.

"Don't look so freaked out, you're fine." You spew out the most encouraging thing your brain can come up with. Inspirational speeches have never really been your forte, so to say.

Harry doesn't say anything, just nods and packs his bag. You feel a pit in your stomach. He looks kind of sad. Did you just cause that?

In a state of panic, you fiddle with your opened bag, and an un-eaten Twix bar you bought earlier today catches your eye. You never ate it because you forgot, and now you're not hungry anymore. You take it out of your bag and put it on his side of the table.

Harry, who was organizing his own stuff, frowns at the candy bar laid in front of him, and his eyes slowly trail up to you. You just stare at him, almost a scared look on his face, as you keep your mouth shut and pray he will understand the message.

"Did you just give me a candy bar?" He questions the obvious. You nod, which seems to make him more confused. "Why?"

You shrug your shoulders, and start packing up more of your stuff. Your jaw clenches and upon feeling your cheeks heat up, you reach out to snatch the candy bar away from him. "You know what, never mind—"

But Harry grabs your wrist before you can take a hold of the candy bar, and he takes the Twix with his other hand, putting it in his bag. He gives you a playful smirk as he leans forward, your hand brushing against his shirt.

"Thank you, sunshine."

He knew what the Twix bar meant, he knew you were trying to console him in your own odd way. He just wanted to put you on the spot. You scowl at him, but don't say anything.

"So, I had a question." Harry says after letting go of your wrist and continuing to fill up his bag with his studying materials. You hum a in a bored tone, a bit frustrated with him at the way he just teased you.

"My friends are throwing a party on Saturday, and I thought you might like to come with me."

Your mouth is still tightly shut, but the glare you send his way is enough of an answer. No.

"What do you say, hmm? I promise it'll be fun." He wiggles his eyebrows. Your glare shoots from his eyebrows back to his eyes. You don't know if that was supposed to make the offer enticing, because if anything it made you want to go even less.

"No."

"Ah, c'mon! Why not?"

"I don't drink." You throw the argument from last time back on the table.

"We'll stay sober together. We'll just drink soda or whatever."

"No."

"Why not?"

"I told you, I don't drink." You say, and get up from your seat, walking away.

"And I told you, we can stay sober. You don't need alcohol to have fun." Harry shrugs, stumbling out of his seat to catch up with you.

"I know that." You grumble.

"Then what's the problem? Why don't you want to go?"

You're waiting until you snap at him. Tell that he needs to mind his own business and quit pushing you because he's not your friend or even anything close to that. That just because you sit and help him in exchange for coffee means that he is entitled to know anything about you.

But you can't. Because it isn't true. So even though there's a part inside of you that tells you to scream at him, you take a deep breath instead. You turn to him, and look into his green eyes. You don't stare at them often enough.

"Because I don't want to drink."

"But I just said—"

"At all."

Harry tilts his head at your confession. You hold your breath until he finally speak up again.

"At all?"

"At all."

You look at him expectantly, but an answer never comes from Harry. Instead, he simply nods and resumes to walking. Slightly dazed, it takes a few seconds for your feet to get with the program and start moving too.

The rest of the way to your place, he says absolutely nothing...

[writeyouin]

LMK shadowpeach x foreign fem reader? Its readers first Christmas in China and wants to spend it with the monkeys! Got them a Christmas gift too that’s fitting for the three of them. For some cute fluff, she made some delicious treats from her home country (I probably would make them fry bread or fruit related sweets of the sort)

Sun Wukong X Macaque X Reader (Poly-Shadowpeach) – Chinese Christmas

A/N – So this went a myriad of ways in my head and I kept changing it, and now it’s super different to what I first thought was going to happen. Anyway, here’s the end result, and I got to do some cool research on Christmas in China which was really interesting.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

“Would you please calm down?” Macaque growled at Sun Wukong, annoyed since his partner was being more irksome than usual.

Granted, the pair had recently made up after all their years of fighting, but sometimes… Well, the Monkey King had a lot more energy than Macaque, and he wasted it in frivolous ways, always bouncing around and rarely bothering to stay still unless he was choosing to be inconvenient and lazy, in which case it was impossible to make him get up and do whatever was required of him.

Sun Wukong was equally displeased with Macaque, who didn’t seem to be taking his plight seriously.

“Calm down?” He wailed, his search continually frantic as he flew from mountain top to mountain top. “Who can calm down at a TIME LIKE THIS?! (Y/N)’s missing!”

Macaque rubbed his temples, feeling a headache begin to form. “They’re not missing, they’re probably just at their house or-”

“ON CHRISTMAS?” Sun jumped in front of Macaque, grabbing him by the shoulders and wrapping his tail tightly around the darker simian, “Not a chance! I planned everything for today. We were going to go ice skating, get some wrapped apples, sing karaoke, drink hot chocolate, go to that new noodle bar- There’s just no way (Y/N) would miss all that.”

“… Fine. If you must continue this inane search, could you use your gold vision and get it over with already?”

Sun raised a mischievous eyebrow and smirked, “And miss out on the fun of the search?”

Macaque sighed irritably, “You’re seriously having fun with this?”

“Well yeah. What’d be the point if I found (Y/N) immediately? It needs to be dramatic.”

With that, the Monkey King got back to his search, whilst Macaque stepped away to take a breather, and possibly to brood if the mood struck him; relationships were exhausting. As soon as he left Wukong, his sharp hearing picked up your voice at the bottom of the mountain.

“Shoot-” You said upon clearly dropping something.

Macaque smiled as a more forceful expletive followed, and listened more intently. Evidently, you were carrying something and your bag had split. He chuckled and took pity on you, waiting till you had recovered your items before casting out a shadow portal that brought you directly in front of him.

Having been ready to take a step that was no longer in front of you, you stumbled into Macaque’s open arms.

“You always trip,” He commented drily, “You think you’d be used to that by now.”

You smiled up at Macaque, pecking his cheek before replying, “I don’t think I’ll ever be used to that. You always do it when I least expect it.”

“Then you’ve got to learn to expect the unexpected.”

“If I did that, there would never be an unexpected event and my life would become oh so dull.”

Macaque began a witty retort, but he was drowned out by Wukong who hurried over to meet you, crushing you in a hug, clingy as ever. Whenever you were around, there was hardly a moment wherein he wasn’t holding onto you in some manner.

“Peaches!” He exclaimed joyfully, using your affectionately awarded nickname, “I knew you wouldn’t abandon us on Christmas. Where were you? You’ve already wasted half the day.”

“It’s only ten,” You protested.

“Yeah, well I would’ve been there for you at six if we were meeting at your place.”

That was a lie. If it was up to Sun Wukong to come to you, you knew that Macaque would have to drag him out of bed and that it would take him hours to wake from his sleepy state.

“If I say I brought presents, will that make it up to you?” You held up your bag; Macaque smiled when he saw the knot you had tied in the bottom to patch the split.

Sun immediately pushed you away to snatch up the bag, though his tail remained wrapped around your wrist.

“Share,” You reminded him, bringing Macaque back into the loop.

“Can we open these now?” Sun asked, already tearing at the gold paper which marked the presents meant for him.

“Apparently so.”

Macaque was much gentler with his sliver foiled presents. You hadn’t bothered to write any cards or tags. You couldn’t read or write Chinese, and your simian companions were equally unskilled in your native language. Instead, it was easier to treat them like the sun and the moon and wrap their gifts accordingly.

There were some generic little presents at the top of the bag, but soon your loves got to the gifts you had spent months lovingly crafting. Shawls, knitwear, and repaired clothing that both of them had mourned when damaged in battle made the bulk of the gifts. In a second smaller bag were the presents you had made fresh the night before. They were treats you missed from home, sweet breads, pastries, sugared fruits, and brandy snaps.

“Oh yeah,” Sun Wukong bragged, taking the first bite of a cream-filled sugar cone, “We’re going to have a feast tonight.”

“If we make it to tonight alive with all you have planned,” Macaque stated drily, though he spared an affectionate pat to Wukong’s head.

“All you have planned?” You asked, uncertain as to what anyone could do on Christmas Day when everywhere was closed. Alas, you were thinking of home, which differed greatly from China in many ways, Christmas traditions being one of them.

“Well, duh.” Sun Wukong placed a hand proudly on his chest and stood in a heroic position atop a newly summoned cloud. “Do you really think that I, Sun Wukong, the Monkey King and Great Sage Equal to Heaven would have anything less than a perfect day planned for my two true loves?”

“Funny,” Macaque chuckled, tying his new shawl around his neck, “I thought your two true loves were sleeping and making Wukong Dating sims.”

“Oh yeah? And what about you? You only love puppets and being all dramatic and emo.”

“And I love it when my boys don’t argue,” You said, stepping between them before their little spat turned into a contest which would inevitably lead to a fight. Granted, the three of you were a throuple now, but Sun Wukong and Macaque still had a lot of bad blood and unresolved history; some days were more difficult than others when they were learning how to choose love and forgiveness over anger and spite.

“So, what’s on the agenda for today?”

Wukong grinned and held you to his side, throwing his free arm up as if physically showing you the day’s schedule while he listed everything off.

Macaque approached you and took your hand gently in his, “Is that all okay? It’s probably a lot different to where you come from.”

You smiled bittersweetly, thinking about all the traditions you would miss out on and how Christmas was more family-oriented where you were from.

“It’s- It’s different to what I’m used to, but… I don’t think that’s a bad thing. I’m just happy to be with you two.”

At that, Sun Wukong softened. He stood in front of you, his tail curling around your waist, “Hey, we don’t have to do this if it’s too much. We can try your traditions if you want.”

“Next year,” You promised. “I want to see how you do things.”

Sun Wukong smiled at both you and Macaque. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was. He had spent far too long alone, and now he had two people he could spend the holidays with, and even more friends who you were all going to meet; he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[strawberrykidneystone]

coming home

ellen ripley x female reader

summary: after waking up 57 years later, ripley works and has made somewhat of a normal life for herself. coming home to her girlfriend in their shared apartment makes everything worth it

a/n: save me ellen ripley!!! WHERE ARE MY STRAP SUCKERS‼️‼️‼️

tags: ellen ripley strapped up, strap sucking, stone top! ripley, spanking (one LOL) , fem!bottom!reader, finger sucking, fingering, cheek slapping but not really, spit as lube, doggystyle, hair pulling, implied squirting, blowjob, aftercare

@rubixcuby HERE YOU GO‼️‼️‼️

ao3 version

it had been a really long day working on the dock. all ripley wanted to do was to go home, pet her cat, and fuck her pretty little girlfriend.

she saw the familiar front door of her apartment as she trudged down the hallway and felt a weight lift off of her chest, the day’s trouble immediately forgotten. she opened the door and chastised jones as he tried to escape out the front door, quickly shutting it behind her before he could successfully escape.

“i’m home,” she called out into the shared space and slipped off her shoes, kicking them to the side. quickly correcting herself as she knew she had a bad habit of just leaving her shoes out in the open, she picked up her shoes by the heels and placed them into their proper cubby by the door. she couldn’t help a smile tugging at her lips as she saw her lover’s shoes in their respective space next to hers. even the simple things still made her heart flutter.

“hi honey! i’m in the kitchen,” y/n called out as she was finishing up dinner on the stove, a thick hearty stew that would keep as good leftovers for days. (this meal prep shit is easy/j)

jones weaved himself between ripley's legs and purred, nuzzling his face against her calf. he feigned innocence as if he wasn’t just trying to escape out the door, but ripley couldn’t stay mad at him.

ripley smiled down at him and slung off her backpack onto its designated hook by the door. she reached down and scratched the orange tabby behind the ear, giving him a few pets down his back before walking deeper into the apartment, guided by the delicious smell coming from the kitchen.

y/n hummed to herself as she added a small pinch of salt to the chunky mixture. she turned the heat down a little and set the stirring spoon to the side. turning around, she was immediately met face to face with ripley, practically nose to nose by how close they were. ripley smiled at her and snaked her hands around her waist, pulling her flush against her torso. y/n giggled and wrapped her arms around ripley’s neck, tilting her head to the side inquisitively.

“well hi there love, how was your day?”

ripley groaned in response and pressed her face into y/n’s neck, shaking her head. y/n threaded her fingers through her hair and scratched at her scalp with one hand while detangling the curls with a loose claw with the pther. a relaxed sigh left ripley’s lips, her hot breath sending a small shiver down y/n’s spine.

“that good huh?” y/n teased, knowing that ripley usually came back from work exhausted and ready to go to bed.

ripley shook her head again, a slightly annoyed grunt leaving her lips. y/n was somewhat used to this, her girlfriend wasn’t particularly a chatty person in general but work just seemed to drain her socially and physically. she didn’t mind, a quiet house after work for the two of them wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

“c’mon try the stew, you’ll feel better with some food in your stomach,” y/n insisted and patted ripley’s back, attempting to turn around. ripley tightened her grip on her waist and lifted her head to look her lover in the eyes. she didn’t want to eat, she was craving something else.

“baby, why don’t you go get my harness ready instead?”, ripley said in a low voice, reaching past her and turned off the stove dial.

y/n visibly perked up at the proposal and felt her face heat up, a deep flush spreading across her cheeks. now it was her turn to be speechless. she opened her mouth to respond, immediately turning to putty as ripley leaned down and pressed deep kisses into her neck, sucking light marks onto her supple skin.

“mmm elle,” she shakily breathed out, arching her back as she felt one of ripley’s hands press into the middle of her back while the other wandered down to her lower back. she spun the pair around so that her back was now to the stove and placed a few pecks all around her face, a cheshire cat grin adoring her features, "go ahead baby, I'll be there in a second."

y/n bit her lip and nodded, reluctantly pulling away from her lovers embrace at the promise of what was to come. she turned around to head into their shared bedroom and a loud smack resonated through the room as ripley slapped her ass. y/n yelped and looked back at ripley with a light-hearted scowl as ripley looked to the side, pretending that she was not the offender of the spank. y/n shook her head with a playful huff and quickly skipped to their room, digging out the black harness from its designated box under the bed.

ripley carefully put the lid over the pot and prepped two bowls on the counter for when they were done with their extracurricular activities. she glanced around the room and saw jones asleep in his cat bed, nodding to herself. she was relieved that she wouldn't have to shoo him out of their bedroom, she always felt guilty kicking him out like a random roommate.

she waited another minute before heading to the bedroom, her eyes full of love as she saw her strap neatly waiting for her on the bed and y/n kneeling next to it, stripped down to her underwear without ripley even asking.'

ripley cooed and crooked her finger under y/n's chin, tilting her head up to look at her. always so eager for her, y/n could already feel her damp panties clinging to her lower lips in anticipation for what was to come.

"such a good girl for me, god you're gorgeous," she whispered huskily, raking her eyes over y/n's body eagerly waiting for her.

she leaned down and ghosted over her lips, smirking as she felt y/n's breath hitch in anticipation. ripley pulled away and chuckled as she watched her lover try to chase her lips, a whine escaping from her soft lips.

ripley tutted and wagged her fingers side to side, "patience love."

y/n held back a pout since she knew she would be punished if she complained, so she simply nodded and sat back on her heels. ripley petted the top of her head and placed a kiss on the crown of her head.

ripley made a show of slowly taking off her work shirt, not taking her eyes off of y/n as she was left in a white tank top with her perky nipples pressing against the fabric. she shimmied off her jeans, leaving her in a pair of red plaid boxers. y/n licked her lips as she admired her girlfriend's toned body, especially her defined thighs that were peaking out of her loose boxers. ripley slowly ran a hand down the front of her torso, slipping into her boxers. not breaking eye contact, she sighed in pleasure as she circled her soaked clit in a few tight circles. once her fingers were thoroughly coated in her slick, she brought her fingers up to y/n and tapped her chin, "open."

y/n's jaw opened obediently, and ripley inserted her fingers into her mouth, flattening her pointer and middle finger against her tongue. “suck,” she commanded and y/n instantly did as she was told, hollowing her cheeks out to suck on ripley’s fingers and bobbing her head enthusiastically. ripley thrusted her fingers in time with y/n’s sucking, biting her lip as y/n looked up at her with hooded eyes filled to the brim with lust. once she deemed her fingers clean, she pulled her fingers out of her mouth, giving two soft taps on her cheek as a silent ‘good job’.

she grabbed the harness off of the bed and stepped into it, settling the loops around her hips and adjusting the straps to sit comfortably around her thighs, as well as her pelvis. she picked up the 8-inch black dildo off of the bed that was resting next to the strap. she threaded the toy through the loop in the middle of her harness, the plastic cock horizontally sticking out and proud. she felt y/n's eyes trailing on her and watching each of her movements intently, yet still waiting for her with the patience of a saint.

god, she was so lucky to have her.

ripley turned her attention back to her sweet y/n, feeling herself clench as y/n looked up at her with those eyes. she grabbed the fake cock by the base and smeared the tip over her lover's lips. "tongue out baby," she purred lifting the cock off of her lips.

y/n opened her mouth and stuck her tongue out, eyes laser focused in on the cock before her. ripley tapped the tip of the cock against her tongue a few times, teasing the tip into her mouth. she used her free hand to cup y/n's cheek, rubbing her thumb along her cheekbone. "deep breath for me princess," she instructed, watching the woman beneath her take a deep breath before sliding the cock into her mouth.

she trailed her hand from her cheek and tangled in her hair, grabbing a fistful and giving a soft tug upwards, taking care as to not push her mouth onto her cock, but a simple reminder of who was in charge. y/n waited with the cock barely halfway in her mouth, deciding to be obedient today in order to reap the most reward for her efforts. ripley chuckled and loosened her grip on her hair, taking her hand off of her cock and putting it on her hip, "go ahead and suck sweetie."

y/n eagerly began bobbing her head on the cock, taking it only about 3/4 of the way inside as to not choke on it. she moaned around the cock, the thought of it being inside of her soon causing a new wave of arousal fluid to coat her lower lips. she made eye contact with ripley as she pulled off the cock and slowly licked the underside, placing a soft kiss on the tip. ripley let out a soft 'fuck' and couldn't take her eyes off her pretty girl as she languished at the plastic cock. she could feel her patience wearing thin, something snapped in her as she watched y/n gag on the silicon cock, taking as much as she could with the tip grazing the back of her throat. ripley took her cock out of her mouth and gave her hair a good tug before letting it go, “all fours on the bed, now.”

y/n shivered at her command and pressed her thighs together as she felt herself clench around nothing. she loved when ripley used her 'lieutenant voice', as she liked to call it.

quickly turning over on her hands and knees, y/n arched her back and adjusted her legs a little bit wider. ripley kneeled on the bed behind her and groaned as she saw her beautiful girlfriend immediately ready to take her in. she hooked both of her index fingers into the side of her panties and ripped them off, throwing them to the side of the room. y/n whined about the ruined set which, fell on deaf ears as ripley unhooked her bra, haphazardly slipping the loops off of her arms. ripley shushed her and pushed her face into the pillows, growling out, "I'll buy you a new set, now stay there slut."

running her index finger and middle finger down y/n’s slit, ripley twisted her fingers to get them fully saturated in her fluids. slowly tearing the water, she was easily able to slide her index finger inside of her with no resistance, easily able to add her middle finger to join inside of her wet walls. y/n moaned as she felt ripley’s long fingers curl inside of her, she was so wet that she barely needed any prep at all. removing her fingers with a stretching scissoring motion and quickly licking them up, ripley grabbed the dildo at the base with one hand and held y/n’s hip with the other.

ripley pushed her tip in between y/n's lips, lathering the tip in her juices. ripley leaned down and spit onto her cock as well, stroking the lubricant over the whole shaft.

ripley lined up the tip with y/n's slit and slowly pushed in, relishing in the strangled gasp that her lover let out. slowly sliding in inch by inch, ripley was mesmerized at seeing the thick cock disappear inside of her girlfriend and how well she took every tantalizing inch. once ripley’s hips connected with y/n’s ass, she paused to let her adjust to the thick length inside of her. ripley gripped the sides of y/n’s hips, leaning forward as one hand reached under and started rubbing circles on her engorged clit.

y/n panted and twitched as she relaxed with the cock inside of her, the stimulation on her clit combine with the slightly new angle of ripley leaning over her had her squirming for more. ripley could read the signs of her body like the back of her hand and drew her hips back with only the tip still inside of her before slamming deep inside. she quickly set a deep, yet quick pace that had y/n’s eyes rolling to the back of her head. mouth open in a wordless scream, y/n let herself be fucked like a rag doll, giving her body completely to the woman she trusted most in the galaxy. ripley sped her rhythm up, pumping herself into her wet heat and moaning like a dog in heat as if the plastic cock was truly attached to her. each snap of ripley's hips brought her closer to the edge with her lover hitting her g-spot with almost every other thrust. burying herself inside of y/n with and pulling y/n back against her with a bruising grip on her hips was the closest thing that ripley would consider heaven.

y/n grabbed a fistful of the sheets in front of her and gasped out, "'m close!" as she felt herself fluttering around the cock, the knot in her stomach close to snapping.

"that's it baby, cum for me," ripley moaned out, leaning forward and connecting her chest with y/n's back. she reached forward and covered y/n's hands with hers, her rhythm getting slightly sloppier as she was determined to make her lover cum. with one particularly deep thrust, y/n quickly came undone and let out a high-pitched moan as her juices gushed around the cock and started to drip down her hole. ripley continued with a few shallow thrusts to let y/n ride out her high, planting a few soft kisses across her shoulders.

"you did so good for me baby, so so good," she mumbled and slowly pulled out the cock from inside of her lover, straightening her posture back up. y/n sighed blissfully and slid her legs down so that she was lying flat along the bed on her stomach.

ripley climbed off the bed and slipped off the harness, somewhat carelessly tossing it next to the laundry basket so she remembers to clean it later.

she walked into the bathroom and wetted a soft washcloth with warm water, quietly walking back into the room to avoid disturbing y/n if she was already asleep. ripley knew she was awake when she gently wiped between her legs and y/n twitched, whining muffled by the pillow that she was resting against. ripley chuckled and whispered a soft ‘sorry baby’ before cleaning up along her thighs.

she hung the washcloth on the side of the laundry bin and laid down on her back in bed, pulling y/n on top of her. she rubbed y/n’s back and kissed the top of her head, tossing a thin blanket over the two of them. using her free hand to card her fingers through y/n’s tussled hair, she continued to draw shapes on her partner's back. y/n buried her face into the side of ripley's neck, mumbling a quiet "love you" before completely passing out.

"i love you too," ripley returned lovingly, closing her eyes as a wave of relaxation washed over her with y/n's body weight grounding her overtired mind.

coming home to her truly made it all worth it.

a/n: ily ripley, pre-first alone movie fluff in the works (((: also rip they stew ig

[purplemoonabove]

The sword is flying under his hold. The blocks are up at each incoming. The slices are too easy from one’s perspective, but Keith always makes it seem so.

His young age of seventeen is nothing to hold back on. Thirty years of existence can hold the same as he is now, taking on robotic enemies as his use of training at every opportunity until dealing with the real deal. His blood will continue to boil by the rising heat. His focus will continue to be dead center at every turn, spotting, and target to take down. His actions will continue to be his greatest tools, the sword being an addition to what he can already accomplish. And his dedication will continue to stay and rise at every improvement he will experience within this space adventure.

“End of training sequence!”

His mind should also follow, continuing his training until reaching a point of total exhaustion and close passing out if doing one more, five by force.

Instead he lasts thirty levels before giving up on his mind’s choice of focus. Admitting defeat when heading over to the bench against the wall, gulping down on the sweating water pouch as the cold temperature is decreasing. While the water is refreshing, it only gives a cooling to his body – and clearance to his mind’s taunting.

It was an accident.

He knows that. They know that. It shouldn’t cause any chance, but he knows different.

They hardly look at each other eye to eye, glancing away when passing in halls. Only when in missions will their focus on each other was there. Once completed, excuses will rise to get away from the other.

It’s considered a normal reaction, really. At least, at first. But doing it for over two weeks now is a difficulty to hide, even when the rest of the team is starting to pick up on their tension. Hardly were the fights present, petty arguments that would have the room annoyed while expecting. A common sense of existence that is now hiding away, and gets silence to be its replacement. And a bad one at that.

Sighing, the dampness at the top of his head now lays upon the wall, his face opposite to the pearl ceiling and its many insert lights. Getting along is already hard as it is, and Keith didn’t mind the silence – or is used to it within the years. But this silence… It is too much for him. Silence is to be like a library to him, not a trapped box with no entry or thin spots to break through.

Why is this a big deal? It didn’t mean anything!

The clench in his chest says another, a sign with a groan following in escape.

I have to talk to Lance, his mind voices. This will affect everything in future missions if we don’t work this out. God, I sound like Shiro…

With a push back to standing, Keith then brings up the small towel he placed earlier. He needs a shower first before speaking. He wouldn’t give a damn about it if done months ago, but now he really needs one when heading towards them. It can make a bad impression if he doesn’t.

He wishes it was longer, though. Fully cleansed with a fresh set of exact clothing in black, dread is making his skin urging to sweat when standing opposite to the door. One belonging to the former Blue Paladin, now taking his Red, bearing a silence inside that can mean anything: skin care treatment, early slumber, just in thought as he was.

He knows earlier that spending time with Hunk and Pidge isn’t done. The duo are consistent on whatever technical issues and solutions to give Lance a moment in time. At least in speaking with them; he didn’t miss Hunk’s glance that led to a private talk in the kitchen after dinner.

“I think you two need to talk,” Hunk confessed. “The last I spent time with Lance, he was quiet as he was every meal. And I noticed the glances he passes at you sometimes.”

Keith grimaced, his arms crossing at his chest tightening a bit. “What can I do? I don’t know how to talk to him. For all I know, another argument can come up.”

“It’s better than this silence, Keith. Everyone is noticing, and you’re lucky you’re getting this out of me than from Shiro.”

He still is lucky on that. Older brother figure giving advice is handling a boulder you are requested to hold, also know that responsibility is one hundred percent yours.

“Just try, Keith. We’re all worried about you guys. It really isn’t like you two…”

And it never would have if it didn’t happen.

He sighs, taking for once acknowledging at the weight than treating as a nuisance throughout the days. With a gloved hand in a fist, he knocks three times on the metal door.

“Lance? It’s me.”

It takes seconds while feeling like hours before the metal slides open. That mocking joy his blue eyes would hold are gone. Only a spot of shame as if caused a mistake that is taking a toll on him.

Discomfort gets the same hand holding his bicep.

“What’s up?” Not even the casual greeting holds any positive emotion. Just the shame, as if it’s the only one to keep him going.

“Can we talk, please?” Keith asks. “About… what happened?”

Eye contact breaks by Lance’s discomfort, turning away with his eyes close. But just as Keith was ready to push further into it, Lance then steps aside for given access.

“Okay.”

Stepping in a space bedroom shouldn’t give the feeling of stepping on ground where the enemies were close and bound to attack on sight. But once the doors shut behind him, sealing the boys in, Keith is willing to go into battle instantly than to be inside here.

Only the sight of Lance’s visible discomfort to small himself away from sight is the force in keeping him in place.

.

.

.

Part 2

[lady-wallace]

Whumptober Day 8: Sleep Deprivation

More Obey Me! for today's @whumptober prompt. It felt so good to write Wing fic again ^_^

Prompt: Sleep deprivation Fandom: Obey Me! Nightbringer Character: Lucifer

~~~~~~~

Read on Ao3

~~~~~~~

Sleep Deprivation

Lucifer seems to be in a particularly bad mood lately. Maybe it has something to do with all of the black feathers blowing around. (Protagonist POV)

~~~~~

It was never outside the realm of possibility to expect total chaos when arriving at the House of Lamentation, but even I had to admit that I hadn’t seen it this bad for a while.

As soon as I came in the door there was loud music playing, but even that couldn’t cover the sound of arguing.

“Who gave you the right to eat my pudding!” Satan’s voice roared from the parlor.

“You were so busy reading your book I didn’t think you wanted it!”

Mammon rushed around the corner, looking behind and under things. “Gotta be here somewhere.”

“Are you looking for something?” I called to him.

He shot up instantly, a suspicious grin on his face. “Ah, hey Helena. No, not really. Just, um, inspecting the mansion. You know.”

“Did Lucifer take your credit card again.”

“Yeah, actually about that, you wouldn’t have to have some extra money lying around—”

“For the last time, turn the bloody music down! I’m trying to read!”

The dull sound of impact followed Asmodeus screaming.

“You just made me spill my nail polish everywhere!”

“You shouldn’t be doing your nails on the couch anyway!” Satan snarled. “Now turn it down!”

I ignored Mammon and headed past him toward the parlor just in time to see Satan about to heave a lamp in Asmo’s direction.

“Hey, that’s enough!” I snapped and crossed to the stereo, turning the music way down. “What is going on here?”

“Helena, save me!” Asmo cried as he jumped off the couch.

“Put it down, Satan,” I commanded.

He made an annoyed sound but set the lamp down.

“It seems pretty early for you to be at each other’s throats,” I commented blandly. “Where is Lucifer?”

“Oh, about that,” Asmo started.

“He got mad at dinner last night and we haven’t seen him since,” Beel commented.

“Considering everything, I’m sure he had good reason.”

“Actually, he’s just been kind of crabby for the last couple days,” Mammon said from where he was peeking under couch cushions. “Have you noticed?”

I frowned. It was true that Lucifer had seemed on edge, but he was always pushing himself too hard. If he hadn’t shown up yet, maybe he was finally sleeping in—although I found that hard to believe considering the noise. Only Belphie could sleep through that.

“I guess he has seemed a little more tired than usual.”

“No, he’s just being an asshole like usual,” Satan snorted, crossing his arms over his chest.

“No, Helena’s right, he did seem particularly exhausted last night,” Asmo said. “Maybe he’s sick or something.”

“I’ll go check on him,” I volunteered, a little worried myself now.

“Just be careful,” Mammon warned. “You know how he gets in his moods. But, if you could ask him where my credit card is…”

I ignored him and left the room, heading toward the stairs. I nearly bumped into Levi on the way. He was standing on the top of the stairs, looking at something in his hands.

“What’s that?”

“Ahh! Oh, Helena, it’s you,” he said, startling slightly. “I’ve just been finding these feathers everywhere the last couple days. I thought it was strange—I have no idea where they came from.”

I reached out and took the feather from his hands to inspect it. It was long and black, bigger than any bird feather I had ever seen….

A sudden suspicion wormed its way into my head. “Levi, have you seen Lucifer today?”

He shook his head quickly. “M-mn. He stormed off at dinner last night after yelling at everyone and locked himself in his room.” His eyes suddenly widened. “Wait…you think these might be his feathers?”

“I don’t know,” I said slowly, running the feather through my hands. “I’m going to go see him.”

“Oh, please be careful! If…if he gets really mad at you, just scream—I’ll come save you!”

I smiled. “Thanks, Levi. But I’m not afraid of Lucifer. I have a feeling he’s just a bit under the weather.”

I continued down the hall to the oldest brother’s room. As I looked down, I could see several more feathers of varying sizes collected around the gap at the bottom of the door. I frowned, worry settling heavier in my stomach as I raised my hand to knock.

“Lucifer?” I called. “It’s me…can I come in?”

There was the sound of shuffling from the other side of the door. “Helena? What are you doing here?”

“Well, I came by to help out with whatever you needed today, but I got worried when everyone said they hadn’t seen you since last night. Are you all right?”

“I’m busy,” came the curt reply.

“Then let me help you! You haven’t let me help you with work all week.”

There was a soft grunt of discomfort and more shuffling. “I just want to be alone right now.”

“Lucifer,” I coaxed, putting my foot down. “Please tell me what’s wrong.”

There was no reply and the seconds stretched on interminably. Finally, I reached for the doorknob. “I’m coming in.”

“I didn’t give you permission to do that!”

The voice was slightly strained and that made me even more worried. “As your friend, and your assistant, who is worried about you, I’m coming in.”

There was a swift scramble as I opened the door and I sighed as I slipped in in, hearing the door to the adjoined bathroom close.

“Lucifer, please, I’m just trying…” I trailed off as my eyes landed on his bed. It was covered in black feathers, in fact, some of them were still lazily floating to the floor, presumably from Lucifer’s quick retreat.

“Lucifer, where did all the feathers come from?” I asked in shock.

“It’s none of your business. Now leave.”

“Not until I know if you’re okay,” I snapped, heading over to the bathroom door and standing firmly in front of it. “You’ve been so tired lately, more than usual. Are you sick?”

“No,” he snapped but the hoarse tone of his voice said differently.

I sighed and leaned my shoulder against the wall by the door. “Lucifer, please. I just want to help. At least let me see?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s nothing!”

“Lucifer, you’ve lost half your feathers, that’s not nothing!”

The door was finally wrenched open and I jerked upright, face to face with the eldest demon brother. I was surprised to see just how disheveled he looked. Lucifer was always so put together, but today he was only wearing his slacks and his black shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His hair was a mess, and his eyes were red-rimmed and had dark circles under them as if he hadn’t slept for three days.

But despite that, I couldn’t help but notice his wings. They drooped at his back, patchy and ragged. Since he usually hid them out of convenience, I hadn’t seen them for a few days and, well, they looked pretty bad.

“I’m molting,” he snapped, jaw tight. “That’s all. Nothing to concern yourself with. Happy?”

“Oh,” I said, realization dawning. “I didn’t realize demons molted.”

“Well, only if they have feathered wings,” Lucifer gritted out. He pushed past me and went to sit on the bed. “But it’s a very uncomfortable process and I would like you to leave me alone.” He attempted to reach behind him, scratching at one of his wings, before growling in frustration as he couldn’t seem to reach the right spot.

I stepped forward. “Can I help? It must be hard to reach—”

“I said it’s nothing to concern yourself with!” Lucifer snapped hoarsely, smothering a cough with his hand.

I frowned, noticing a slight flush to his face and boldly reached out to press my palm to his forehead. He jerked away in indignation, but I’d already found out what I needed to.

“You have a fever,” I chided.

“I am fine,” he insisted stubbornly, pressing his back against the bed post and gritting his teeth in frustration as he rubbed his wings against it. He pulled away quickly though as I continued to stare at him, glowering in indignation, hands clenching in his lap.

“You’re sick,” I stated. “Which means I am obligated to take care of you.”

“It means no such thing!” he tried to scratch at his wings again, shoulders shifting uncomfortably. He finally growled and reached for the lower wing on his right side, wrenching it around and digging his fingers into the sparse feathers. I glanced over his shoulder and saw the raw skin on his wings where the feathers had been.

“Lucifer, stop; you’re hurting yourself,” I said, reaching out to grab his wrist in concern.

“Don’t touch me!” he swatted my hand to the side.

I huffed in annoyance. “This really has put you in a bad mood, hasn’t it? The others said you yelled at all of them last night.”

“You think they didn’t deserve it?”

“I think despite what your brothers say you’re not usually this upright.”

“Yes, well, the…the itching—it’s infuriating!” Lucifer cried, digging his fingernails harder into his wing, scratching until he winced.

I reached out and grabbed hold of his wrist again. “Stop!”

He froze, both of us staring each other down, but I refused to let this one go.

“I know you hate accepting help,” I said as he continued to glower at me. “But just this once, let me do something for you.”

The staring contest continued for another long second before he finally shut his eyes and sighed heavily, his wings twitching in discomfort. “It would be more helpful if you just made sure the others don’t burn the house down while I’m…indisposed.”

I smirked. “I can do that and take care of you. Just let me collect a few things, then I’ll be back, okay?”

He grunted and I left the room. I wasn’t really sure what I was looking for, so I pulled out my D.D.D. and texted Barbatos, thinking that he would probably be the most likely to help.

After explaining the situation he offered to bring some stuff over to the House of Lamentation that would hopefully help Lucifer in his recovery.

I headed back downstairs to make sure nothing else was falling apart but things thankfully seemed quiet for the moment.

Asmo found me on his way up the stairs. “Oh, Helena, did you get to talk to Lucifer?”

I nodded. “He’s a bit under the weather at the moment. I’m making sure that he rests.”

Asmo smiled softly. “He must really like you if he’s willing to listen. I hope he feels better soon though.”

“Me too,” I replied.

I headed down to the foyer to wait for Barbatos and when the demon butler finally showed up I went to meet him.

“Thank you so much for bringing this over,” I said with a grateful smile.

“Of course, Helena, I hope that Lucifer will be feeling better soon,” he handed over the bag as he explained the contents. “It’s best to brush out all the loose feathers and once you’re done with that, there’s an ointment that will help soften the skin around the new feathers coming in. If the skin gets dry, it’s very itchy and uncomfortable. There’s also a tea that will help his fever.”

“Is it common for someone to get sick while molting?”

“Fairly common, actually. It takes a lot of energy to grow new feathers. It would be best to make sure Lucifer has some nutrient rich meals while he recovers. I’ll send over some recipes later, if you wish.”

“I really appreciate it, Barbatos,” I said gratefully.

“Let me know if there’s anything else I can do to help,” the butler said with a small nod before he left. “I’m sure Lucifer will be well looked-after in your hands.”

I first went to make a cup of the tea then brought that up to Lucifer with the rest of the stuff.

He was still sitting dejectedly on the bed, an annoyed frown on his face as he tried to reach his wings, back arching in discomfort.

“Alright, no more of that,” I told him firmly, handing him the tea. “Drink this.”

“What is it?” he asked suspiciously.

“Tea for your fever and sore throat,” I told him as I took the other items from the bag and set them on his side table.

Lucifer eyed them suspiciously as he sipped the tea. “While I appreciate you bringing these for me, you don’t need to help me further.”

“And you’re going to be able to brush all of your wings out by yourself?”

He glowered and I raised my eyebrow pointedly. “I’ll manage,” he lied.

I rolled my eyes and picked up the fluffy brush Barbatos had brought. “Not today, you won’t. I’m here to help, and you’re just going to have to deal with it.”

He looked indigent, but I simply motioned him backwards. “Why don’t you get comfortable? This will probably take a while.”

After some obvious inward struggle, Lucifer finally sighed, his shoulders slumping in pure exhaustion. “Fine. If you insist.”

He flopped into the middle of his bed a bit petulantly, wrapping his arms around one of his pillows as he settled on his stomach. I climbed up beside him and settled the first of his four wings across my lap.

“I’m going to start by brushing out the loose feathers,” I told him as I wielded the brush. “Please let me know if I’m hurting you at all.”

I started at the base of his wing, moving slowly outward. His wing twitched in discomfort several times, but the feathers seemed to be coming out easily enough, leaving a pile of black around my knees.

“How often does this happen?” I asked him.

Lucifer huffed. “Every few years. It’s…abysmal.”

He sounded so tired it went to my heart. “I imagine it’s hard to sleep, especially if they itch so badly.”

“It’s the new feathers coming in that are the worst,” Lucifer grumbled into his pillow. “It’s like cutting a thousand teeth at the same time.”

I winced. “That doesn’t sound very nice.”

I could see the new feathers coming in, little black buds breaking through pale skin. A lot of the areas looked dry, some red and irritated from Lucifer’s scratching. I tried to be as careful around those areas as possible, knowing how sensitive they must be.

Thankfully, though, Lucifer seemed to be relaxing more and more into his pillow by the time I finished the wings on his right side.

“That’s that side done,” I said, getting off the bed in a flurry of feathers attached to my skirt as I moved around to his other side and continued the process.

Lucifer made a soft sigh as he turned his face toward my direction, eyes half closed. “It actually…feels pretty nice,” he admitted tiredly.

I smiled as I continued brushing. “I’m glad I could help a little bit. Barbatos also gave me a salve to help the new feathers grow in.”

Lucifer hummed softly, eyes sliding shut. I finished up the last of the brushing and reached for the little pot of cream.

“I’m going to use the cream now, so it might be a little uncomfortable,” I told him in warning.

He nodded into the pillow and I opened the pot to an herbal smell, taking some onto my fingers. I started to spread it over the bare patches of skin on the arms of Lucifer’s wings. He flinched initially.

“It’s cold,” he grumbled.

“Sorry,” I apologized, continuing to work it in with my fingers, careful around the new buds of feathers coming through the skin. Lucifer twitched in discomfort a couple times during the process, but he seemed to relax again after a while.

“How does it feel?” I asked.

He gave a soft hum. “Not bad,” he admitted. “They actually don’t itch nearly as much now.”

“Good.” I continued applying the salve to all of his wings and finally closed up the pot and set it aside.

“Feeling any better now?”

Lucifer glanced up at me, raising his head slightly from the pillow. “I actually do.” He admitted before looking down. “Helena…thank you. I know I’m not easy to deal with but…I appreciate you and your stubbornness.”

I smiled fondly and reached out to squeeze his hand briefly. “I’m just glad you’re feeling a little better. I would be happy to come back tomorrow and do the same thing.”

His even breathing told me that he had simply fallen asleep. My heart warmed at the sight, glad he could finally rest peacefully. I pulled a blanket over him before I left and quietly closed the door behind me.

Now I just had to make sure the rest of the brothers would be quiet enough to let Lucifer sleep for the rest of the day.