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#I'm still in school so I'm not really back yet but I had a spark of inspiration and had to take advantage :D
pascalrps · 4 months
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*:・゚✧ — plot idea dumpppp !!
childhood sweethearts (on the rocks)
a plot where muse a and muse b have been friends since childhood — here and there, they would have a one night stand, but never really allowed themselves to progress into anything more than just friends. now, as adults who are figuring out the dating scene isn’t as easy as their parents made it seem, muse a and muse b are seeing each other more and more frequently. eventually, muse a starts seeing someone new, and has less and less time for muse b. i’m talking jealousy, tension!!! muse b realizing maybe they’ve had feelings for muse a the whole time, muse a having to make tough decisions — either continue dating this new person or hurt muse b!!! i liiiiive for drama pls
childhood sweethearts (with a twist)
okay but a plot where close childhood friends reunite — except muse a was in love with muse b growing up, and muse b became muse a’s best friend’s high school sweetheart. muse a concealed their feelings for muse b all throughout their friendship, in high school & college, although both muses definitely had feelings & felt sparks for one another long before muse b started dating muse a’s best friend. despite the connection they’d felt, neither wanted to jeopardize any of the friendships between the three, and ultimately, muse b ended up married to muse a’s bff… except now, years later, muse a and muse b reunite at muse a’s best friend’s funeral. imagine the hurt of losing a loved one but having the comfort of yet another loved one?? blurred lines, tension, second-guesses…….
let me take care of you (southern charm)
okay so i’ve been kicking around a ranch hand plot where muse a is looking for help around the ranch they’ve just inherited due to a death in the family, and seeing as they’re just one person with lots of land, and virtually no knowledge on how to take care of it, it’s impossible to go it all on their own… enter muse b. muse b, a man who not only knows how to work the land but can take care of the ranch with ease, finds it impossible to not take care of muse a, while he's at it. just give me texan sunsets and lovers with low static music crooning in the background from some vinyl record please & ty
friends with benefits (with feelings)
a friends with benefits plot where muse a is dead-set, hellbent on not having a relationship and not getting too intimately involved with muse b; muse b has been in love with muse a for years, and muse a knows this, but still can’t bring themselves to get emotionally attached. i need tensionnnn and like, a lil toxicity ykwim??? for the angst omg
will you come find me (after the party?)
so hear me out — a plot where muse a and muse b met at a friend of a friend’s party & instantly hit it off. muse a is immediately infatuated with muse b — they laugh, talk, drink; they even make an incredible beer pong team. at some point during the night, muse a decides to put the moves on muse b. however, after leaving to get them some drinks, muse a comes back to find muse b kissing someone else… and to make it worse? it’s their boyfriend/girlfriend. tbh this plot could have the potential of a shakespearean comedy if we did it right akdjgh ok i'm talking messssssssyyyy
you feel like home (but i’ve got a different address)
okay so i need a tense plot where muse a and muse b are soulmates, beyond the shadow of a doubt — but muse a is married to a nightmare of a spouse. little by little, they spend more time together one on one, but it’s getting increasingly harder for muse b to see muse a with their spouse, especially knowing how that spouse treats muse a. idk this is a rough plot/work in progress plot but i feel like it has potential to go somewhere!!!
as always — send me over a private message if you're interested in writing up any of these bad boys !!
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keerysfreckles · 3 months
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sparks fly — LN4
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pairing: lando norris x fem!reader
summary: “drop everything now, meet me in the pouring rain. kiss me on the sidewalk, take away the pain” — or when y/n goes to lando's childhood home in england, after her night turned for the worst.
warnings: abusive relationship, cursing, not proofread
a/n: shoutout to pookie nat for finally getting me into taylor 🙏
masterlist !
⋆ ˚ 。 ⋆ ୨୧ ˚
y/n knew from the moment she watched her first rom-com, she would find a love like the movies. how to lose a guy in ten days. thirteen going on thiry. ten things i hate about you. twenty seven dresses.
the list could go on. she was more than positive she'd find someone to love her the same way these fictional men loved their partners.
y/n met her first love during her spring break of her second year of uni. she could've sworn they were meant to be. they had plenty in common. they were studying the same major, both loved hockey, both wanted to study abroad someday, in paris or germany.
she thought it was perfect. until the fairy tale castle started crumbling.
during their third year of uni, y/n noticed patrick changing. he got more focused with his school work, but became more aggressive when y/n was involved.
y/n thought at first it was just the stress from exams coming up. she justified it as everyone's on edge, getting antsy for the year to be done with.
however it only fell downhill. the words of aggression turned into loud yells heard from their shard apartment at late hours. the yelling turned into patrick throwing any item he could find, which soon turned into y/n dodging almost everything patrick threw.
he hasn't hit her yet, which was possibly the only thing keeping y/n in the relationship. she really believed he could change. but as days passed, and his anger only progressed, she wasn't sure the old patrick was still inside.
sure, the man would always try to make it up to her. a million open eneded apologies could only do so much.
on the twenty third of october, that's when shit hit the fan.
"patrick please, just let me go to bed. it's late, we're both angry and not thinking right," y/n tried reasoning with him, knowing her words don't mean a thing to him.
"no, you're going to tell me what you were doing out so late."
y/n only lets out a scoff. it was the same fight almost every time she went out with friends, or simply went to the library to study. patrick never believed her.
"for the last time, i was out with jess. all we did was go shopping," y/n explains again. her own anger starts rising. she feels the bottle inside her shaking, getting ready to explode.
she stands from the couch, walking to their shared room.
"you think you can walk away from me?" patrick quickly follows, slamming the bedroom door behind him.
"what is your problem!" y/n finally shouts, "you never believe me. what do you think i'm doing? cheating on you? how can i do that when you barely let me leave this goddamn apartment?"
y/n's breath heaved. she felt a small pressure release as she finally got the courage to yell at the man standing in front of her.
"who do you think you are?"
as patrick spoke, he stepped closer to y/n. causing her to step back, eventually becoming trapped between the him and the wall.
"who gave you the right to talk to me like that?" patrick seethed, before reaching out and grabbing y/n's wrist.
his grip only tightened when she let out pained sounds, as tears started forming in her eyes.
she tried prying his hand off her wrist with her other one, "let go," she begged.
y/n started kicking. she didn't know where her feet were ending up, but was grateful patrick had started backing away from her movements.
she managed to release her wrist from his hold, and ran towards the bedroom door. grabbing anything she could before leaving the apartment, she was able to grab her phone and her shoes.
patrick tried grabbing at her again, yelling and begging for her to come back. she was still struggoing to slip her shoes on even when she got outside.
y/n swore she still heard patrick's yelling from where she stood.
once she got at least a block away, the tears couldn't help but fall. her vision became fuzzy as she kept walking. she kept tripping over he untied shoe laces, stepping in the puddles from the rain beginning to fall from her sky.
as if the rain was matching y/n's mood.
in the ten minutes she continued to mindlessly walk, y/n couldn't believe how stupid she had been. scolding herself for staying with the man who only made her the worst version of herself.
y/n kept walking, until she seemed to find herself in an all too familiar neighborhood. she couldn't even begin to count the times she's been here.
she tries ridding her tears, knowing its no use as her eyes are probably bright red and puffy.
she begins to knock on the door of the house she knows too well. as her hand leaves the wood, her mind only begins to spiral.
what are you doing? they might not even be home. this could be too much for them to handle. they won't want to see me. they can't do anything–
the sound of locks turning brought y/n back from inside her mind.
cisca stood on the other side of the door, in the warmly lit house. her heart broke at the sight of y/n drenched from the rain, her shoes barely holding onto her feet, and her shaking hands.
"oh darling," cisca starts.
"i didn't know where else to go," y/n's voice shakes as cisca lets her inside. she's gone for a moment, before coming back with a towel for the girl.
"you know you're welcome here any time," cisca brought y/n towards the living room, not caring if the couch gets wet. she can always fix it later.
"you dry off some more, i'll be back with a cup of tea," cisca rubs y/n's arm before leaving for the kitchen. the older woman's mind wanders to all the possibilities for why y/n was at their home at the late hour.
minutes pass and cisca sets the warm cup of tea in y/n's hands, instantly receiving a thank you from her.
cisca gasps slightly at the bruise already forming around y/n's wrist. "sweetheart, what happened?"
she rubs her back as y/n explains everything to the woman. from the point patrick began getting verbally violent, to the events that happened no less then half an hour ago.
cisca couldn't believe her ears. the sweet y/n she knew would never have stayed with someone like that, but cisca hardly knows her at any more. ever since she started uni she rarely comes over to her best friends childhood home.
after pulling y/n into a much needed hug, cisca began setting up the extra bedroom. while y/n stayed on the couch, finishing the cup of tea in her hands.
"hey mom, i heard noise from my room. everything okay?" lando peeks his head into the spare bedroom, instantly confused to why his mother is setting up the bed.
"y/n is out there, and she just needs to be comforted right now, okay? she's had a rough night," cisca explains as lando nods in understanding.
lando walks through the hallway towards the living room, and just like his mother, his heart sinks at the sight of y/n. she's hunched over on the couch, finally getting warmer from being out in the rain.
"i thought i heard noise out here," lando chuckles, hoping a light hearted mood might fix the atmosphere around y/n.
once their eyes meet, he knows one slightly fun comment won't make anything better. he sees her bloodshot eyes, and worried expression.
"oh, baby," the nickname slips through his lips. one he's called her many times in the past.
he kneels in front of her to wrap his arms tightly around her waist, as hers reach for his shoulders.
he didn't know how much comforting she needed, but could only guess it was a lot after she started crying against his shoulder.
he continued to hold her, rubbing his hands up and down her back. his heart started to break once she started shaking in his arms. a mixture from the crying and her body finally letting the stress and anxiety get to her.
"i should've listened to you," y/n mumbled against his shoulder.
lando doesn't respond, knowing exactly what the girl meant.
her grip loosened slightly on his shoulders, now just resting her hands there as she looks at him.
"you were right. he wasn't a good guy. you had a feeling and i should've listened to you," y/n rambles on, knowing lando's been right about patrick since the first time the two men met.
"what did he do?" lando asks, moving his hands to hers. however, his fingers brush over y/n's brusing skin. the action makes her flinch slightly, and lando's heart breaks for the second time that night.
"i shouldn't have come here," y/n states, beginning to shake her head back and forth. "i'm sorry."
"you have nothing to be sorry for, you can stay," lando tries to reason with her.
he continues to try even when he follows her back out in the rain.
"y/n! just come inside!" he runs after her, his socks getting damp from the drying puddles outside. he looks up, the rainfall definitely slowed, but y/n's hair was beginning to get wet again.
"no lando, it's fine. i'll go back there for the night. he's probably calmed down by now."
lando reaches y/n, "you can't possibly want to go back there. he hurt you. you can barely move your wrist because of the bastard."
y/n turned to see lando looking at her, his curls falling slightly from the drizzling rain.
"you can't go back there y/n."
"i've already ruined yours and your mom's night."
lando laughs, "that's the last thing you've done. you and i both know you're more than welcome to stay the night."
after minutes of silence, lando speaks up again while stepping closer to y/n.
"i want you to come inside. i want you to be comfortable and safe."
it's as if a switch went off in y/n's head. a switch she's surprised didn't go off sooner.
seeing lando like this, standing in the rain in front of her. wanting nothing more than to make sure she's protected. something patrick would never have done, during any circumstances.
he watches her eyes flick between his own and his lips.
he lets out a shuddered breath as she simply begins walking closer to him.
"y/n, you went through way too much tonight. i don't want to add to any of your stress."
y/n shakes her head, "lando i've never been more sure of anything."
lando's hands find their way to her waist as she finally steps in front of him.
"take away my pain lando, please. you're the only person who's been here for everything. you're the only one i need. i'm so stupid for not seeing it earlier. i should've never went on that stupid date. i should've listened to you, and– and if i did i would've been here so much sooner."
y/n catches her breath. her heart hammers in her chest waiting for lando's reaction.
tears begin to blur her vision once more, her emotions getting the better of her as lando doesn't respond.
"lan, please say something. you're what i want, not h–"
y/n stumbles back slightly from the impact of lando's lips pushing against hers. her hands hold onto his face, scared that if she let's go, she might just be imagining this.
"please, let me take you back in–"
now y/n cuts off lando's words, making the man laugh into the kiss. the sound and feeling sending shivers up y/n's spine.
lando breaks the kiss, but feels y/n's breath fanning over his lips.
"now can you please come back inside?"
"one more," y/n mumbles against his lips before he has the chance to reject her offer.
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I'm not a Perv, just Crushing on you - Yang Jungwon ☆
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A/N : Here is the ask for this post. I love this idea lmao had to turn it into a fic! Tbh it's probably one of my favourite fics 🤭🤭
Summary : Your brother's best friend might seem like a pervert, but he's not. He just likes you a little too much not to look down your shirt. What happens when he gets jealous of a guy you flirted with at your family's get together party?
Pairing : BrothersBestFriend!Junwon X Fem!Reader
Warnings : Shy Jungwon and reader, mentions of Jungwon being slightly pervy, teasing, first shared kiss, Confession from Jungwon, groping, unprotected sex, Jungwon unzipping reader's dress, grinding, slight fingering, cumming inside, slight pillow talk? and hints of another round at the end. Enjoy ;)
Word Count : 2.5K Words
Masterlist
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Jungwon didn't expect you to be here. Not at a stupid annual family get together party. He's been forced to attend to this party all these years yet he's never seen you around. How come you're attending now? All of a sudden? Maybe this party wasn't as bad after all.
He eyes you from the distance. You were his best friend's sister, the girl that he happens to have a crush on. The first time he saw you was at your house, the first time he came over to game with your brother. Your older brother, Sunghoon, had mentioned you before, but when Jungwon saw you for the first time- fuck, he wasn't even focused on the game anymore.
You were everything he'd ever dreamed of. Cute and shy with blushed cheeks as you introduced yourself. Voice delicate and soft, eyelashes batting up at him. He knew you were going to be the death of him.
That day he kept getting excuses. "Uh Sung, may I use the restroom?" he had asked, hoping to bump into you in the corridors or something. With the go ahead of your brother, he'd made it out of the room and was left alone to wander, luckily finding your room on his first try.
He was also pretty shy himself, gently opening your door pretending he was lost. "Uh h-hi, I got lost tryna find the bathroom" he blurts out under his breath catching your attention. You look up and smile, getting off your bed and leading him to the bathroom. That's when he thanked you and a little conversation sparked. Who knew that wouldn't be the only conversation between the two of you?
Jungwon knew it was bad. Against the bro-code or whatever. But he didn't care. He had to have you. The next day he was brave enough to text you, easily finding you from your brother's 'following list' on insta. You were delighted as you accepted his follow request and headed to the messages section to find that he'd sent you a message.
From then, he had started hitting on you, hinting his crush on you and trying to get closer but still keeping it lowkey to your brother. All these months he'd kept it all inside of him because he wasn't sure if you fancied him back and feared that you would tell you brother.
You never really seemed to lead him on; until summer. Without no school he started coming over way more than usual. And you started liking him. You've started noticing how cute he looked with messy hair after he's crashed your home couch or how he bit his lower lip in concentration as he tried to beat your brother in Mario Cart.
You started wearing low cut tops around him just to show off your cleavage or shorter shorts just so that your ass hangs out a little. It was driving Jungwon insane. You new it. He would only take one glance at you and look away, cheeks flushed as he swallows.
But he was a slight pervert too. You'd catch him look your way at some point, then look away real quick, hoping you didn't notice. But you did. You have been all along. You were finally understanding all those texts from him. He had been hitting on you.
Which is why now, after hearing you brother say that he's going to meet up with Jungwon at this boring party, you weren't going to miss the opportunity. You put on your favourite dress and put down your hair and got ready for the party. Which is why now
He eyes you from the distance. He notices what you wore and wonders if you wore that dress just for him. He notices your gorgeous smile and he smiles too, until he sees why you're smiling.
Kim Jong-fucking-hoo. That dude from school. He was in Jungwon's class the past years and he's always been a bully. You shouldn't be talking to him. Mainly because you should be talking to Jungwon but also because Jonghoo is a bad influence.
You notice Jungwon from the corner of your eye and as you look to the side you offer him a little smile, only to turn back to the other guy. Jungwon wonders what he should do. He knows you're teasing him by the way you keep glancing at him but he's not sure if he should approach you.
That's until you place your arm on Jonghoo's biceps, laughing about something that wasn't exactly funny. Jungwon looses it. He makes his way over to you both and snatches you away from that jerk.
"She's my girlfriend" is the only excuse Jungwon brings up when the other dude complains when he takes you away. His grip on your hand is strong as he leads you up the strairs, not really sure where he's going.
"Woah woah, slow down Won" he loves it when you call him that. "Where are we going?" you ask, eyes wide "Also, I'm not your girlfriend!". He sighs and walks you into the nearest room he finds which happens to be someone's bedroom. He locks the door behind you two and faces you.
"Why were you teasing me?" he asked you eyebrows furrowed. Before you can say anything he cuts you off "Don't pretend you weren't. You have been all this time. The shirts and the shorts and, and the texts-"
You look down almost in shame but then remember that he's been noticing and looking this whole time. "So you are a little bit perverted huh? If you weren't you wouldn't be looking at my shirts and shorts all the time" you accused crossing your arms.
He sighs to himself and without thinking he just says what he has to say "I'm not a pervert y/n, I just kinda.. like you" he blurts out with difficulty. You almost think he's messing around until he says it again. "I mean, you've probably noticed I've been hitting on you all this time so it shouldn't be a surpris-"
You cut him off, pressing your lips onto his and pushing him up against the wall. Your arms move all over him, making sure it's not a dream. He kisses you back eagerly after he gets over the little shock.
He pulls away for a quick second "Wait, so you like me back?" he ask out of breath. You nod and desperately connect again, your lips on his. This time he places his hands on your hips and flips you, so that you're the one against the wall. You smile into the kiss already enjoying this new side of him.
You place your hands on his biceps and feel how firm they are. Who would've thought that your brother's shy best friend was buff? As your mind started wondering what he could do to you with his strength, he places his hands right below your ass, picking you up.
You wrap your legs around his waist and as if he read your mind, he walks you to the bed. He chuckles as he places you down on it gently, and as you're settling in he takes off his shirt. A new chuckle leaves his lips as he sees you staring, but he doesn't want to embarrass you.
He climbs onto the bed atop of you and decides to kiss you again. During the kiss, he grabs your hand and places it somewhere near his abs. When you pull away for breath he sits up on his knees, your hand still against his abs. "You can touch, you know?" he smiles, loving the way you're so mesmerized by his abs. Guess the gym with Sunghoon was worth it.
You catch him staring at the cleavage of the dress, almost undressing you with his eyes. "Here I'll take it off" you say, offering a little smile. You get off the bed but as you stand you realise you won't be able to reach the zipper yourself.
"Uhh, mind if you unzip me?" you ask shyly, awkwardly waiting for him to unzip your dress. His face brightens at your request. He gets behind you and runs his hands along your back before finding the little zipper, lowering it slowly.
Once unzipped, he places his hands into the dress, around your waist. You let the straps of the dress fall from your shoulders, the garment finally falling to the floor at your ankles.
You let your intrusive thoughts win as you take a step back and angle your ass out, subtly grinding on him. "Fuck" is all he can mumble under his breath before grinding back into you, his hands on your hips, fucking your clothed pussy.
"P-please Won, need you i-inside" you whine. He already felt good clothed, just imagine how he'd feel deep inside you. He obliges, with his hands still on your hips, he turns around, making you rest your hands on the mattress.
With just your hands at the edge of the bed supporting you, you were at his mercy. He leans down, his chest against your back, pecking the back of your neck with little kisses. Then when he actually realises this is about to happen he realises that he doesn't have any rubbers on him.
"Uh y/n, I wasn't really prepared and I uh- I don't have a condom on me" he says shamefully. You just wriggle your ass against him teasingly.
"It's fine, I wanted you to cum inside anyway" you admit, making him curse under his breath. He could've sworn he felt his dick twitch at your statement.
Without thinking twice, he slid down his pants along with his underwear, his cock springing up almost against his abdomen. You couldn't help but turn around to take a look, your gaze making him blush. You were right, a pretty boy must have a pretty cock.
"Shit, you're so big" you compliment "Can't wait to have it in me" you giggle as you notice it twitch. He breathes in, his face feeling too warm. When you turn back around and wriggle your ass again, he knows he shouldn't waste more time.
He presses two of his fingers against your clit circling around before sliding down your lips, rubbing you over your soaked panties. The way you squirm around makes him want more, suddenly sliding your panties to the side so he could really admire your glistening core.
"You're so fucking wet" he curses under his breath when he lets his fingers ghost over your now-bare pussy. And you were wet, drenched actually. You were so wet for him that it felt like you were menstruating or something. But it was only arousal for him.
He experimentally dipped one of his fingers into you, wanting to see how tight you actually were. He sucked in a breath as he realised you're way tighter than he had imagined. Impatient, he pulled his fingers out gently, bringing them to his mouth before sucking them clean.
"You taste so good" he notes, licking your arousal off his fingers. "If I wasn't so desperate to fuck you I'd eat you out right now" but he was too needy at the moment and his dick almost started hurting with neglect.
"Ready?"
"Mhm" you hum back, mentally preparing yourself to finally take your brother's best friend after all this time.
He breathes in as he moves your panties to the side, giving himself a few strokes before pushing his red tip into your entrance. Even that was already big enough for you, already clenching around the little he gave you.
"Stop clenching like that y/n or I'll cum" he warned, not wanting to ruin it for both of you. You tried your best to just relax and take all of him, shutting your eyes tight at the slight sting of him pushing inside.
It's not like you were a virgin or anything, but he was probably the biggest you've ever taken so far. You sigh out in union as he finally stills inside you, letting you adjust to his size a little bit before starting to actually fuck you.
You were making it a little difficult for him to stay still, your cunt squeezing him like it has its own mind. "C-Can I please move?" he asks, hoping you'd give him the green light.
"P-please" you plead, squeezing around him one more time. He grips your hips tightly, starting to fuck into you. His eyes shut tightly as he gets lost in the way you feel. Fuck, this was a million times better than his stupid fist.
"Mm, you, you feel s-so good around me" he stutters in pleasure, the pressure on his dick making it difficult for him to speak. He tried to calm himself down, not wanting to cum too quick and ruin it for the both of you. But with the way you kept squeezing him in, gripping him like a vice, it was almost impossible.
His hips start snapping against yours, the sound of skin slapping echoing in the room for a few moments. "A-ah Won, fucking me so good" you praise, trying your best to speak. He was just so deep in you, and so so close.
He dipped his head forward, lips pressing kissing along your back to the back of your neck, making you moan out for him. You could feel him squeeze your hips as you clenched around him, trying to ground himself.
"Shit Y/n, I-I'm close" he warned, almost embarrassed at how fast he's cumming,
But you weren't so far behind either. "S-same" you manages out, vision hazy as your orgasm approached you. His brows furrowed in focus, picking up his pace a little and chasing his orgasm.
When he felt right at the edge, he placed his fingers on your clit, wanting to cum together. With just a few triggering rubs on your clit, you were clenching around him, your arms giving out as you creamed all over his cock.
With a few more of your squeezes he was cumming too, hot spurts of his release filling you up. All he could do was curse under his breath before pulling out gently and laying beside you breathlessly.
You rolled onto your back, your arms now touching. You had already regained your breath a little, having finished before him. "You okay Won?" you asked, checking up on him. But he wasn't quite back yet. He interlaced his pinky finger to yours to show you that he's heard you, before sighing out.
His eyes suddenly open and he turns to his side, facing you. "How was it? Did you feel good?" he asked, wanting to make sure you're satisfied.
"Amazing actually" you replied, smiling to yourself.
He sighed contently and closed his eyes again until you speak once more. "I can still feel your cum inside me" you mumble, feeling it trickle out of your hole.
"Fuck, don't say things like that or you'll make me pop another boner" he warns.
"Maybe I want that" you smile cheekily. "How about we go shower?" you ask hopefully, an evil grin on your face.
"Oh yeah, I'm definitely going to get another boner"
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Thankyou for reading to the end! I hope you enjoyed it :D Have a good day/night and remember that ily! <333
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munsonslove · 2 years
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Your smut is top tier, truly.
Would you consider writing something along the lines of a secret admirer situation - Sub reader develops a crush on Eddie after she's been buying weed from him for a while and begins secretly leaving suggestive notes in Eddie's locker detailing some of her fantasies about him until one day he finally manages to connect the dots during their latest drug deal in the woods. Maybe the reader, although had planned to eventually confess her identity, didn't expect him to figure it out at that moment and is initially pretty embarrassed until it all leads to some very sloppy/kinky sex in the middle of the woods. Degradation, spanking, little bit of daddy kink and whatever else you think might make it more saucy, please. Go nuts :)
Mystery Girl
(18+ only)
a/n: sorry i haven't posted in a bit, my life is in shambles. the good news is i think i'm over being sad and have moved on to apathy, so enjoy the filth!
summary:  A stupid mistake leads Eddie to figuring out you were the one leaving dirty love notes in his locker for months.
wordcount: 5.9k
tags/warnings: fem!sub!reader, dom!Eddie, smut, praise kink, degradation, daddy kink, fingering (f receiving), p in v penetration, dacryphilia, spanking, choking, hair pulling, light bondage (hands tied behind back), light drug use, discussions of safe words, no use of y/n
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It had been too many months to count since you started leaving the love letters. While you didn’t personally attend Hawkins High anymore, you still find yourself there fairly often thanks to licenseless friends that haven’t yet graduated. They’re all in school clubs, which sometimes leads to them running late when you’ve promised to pick them up. It would be rather annoying if it didn’t grant you the opportunity to sneak into the school and leave your notes to Eddie in his locker. Eddie was your dealer- introduced through a cousin of a friend- and after many late nights of smoking together he eventually became something akin to a friend in his own right. Maybe if you didn’t have such a pathetic crush on him you’d be able to more confidently accept his companionship, but for the meantime you only see him when you’re buying drugs (or doing drugs with him).
“Got another one,” he says, sprawled out in the back of his van while sparking up a joint he rolled for the both of you. “This one was pretty raunchy.”
He passes you the joint once it’s lit, too much of a gentleman to abide by the bad luck rule of the roller being the first to take a hit. “Oh really?” you ask, holding the end up to your mouth and feigning interest. “Raunchy how?”
He told you about it, but you of course already knew how. From the very first letter you left for him, Eddie’s been bragging to you all about his secret admirer. In the beginning, it was all very innocent. You would write about how you’d seen him around, how you found him funny and cute, stuff of that nature. But after a smoke sesh accidentally resulted in over indulging, he confided in you exactly what he’d like to do to this ‘Mystery Girl’ if he ever learned her identity. He would describe sexual acts you’d never heard of before, and was very blasé about it all despite the sensitive nature. The way he explained his fantasies about you (even though he didn’t know it was you he was talking about) brought warmth to your cheeks- and between your legs. It encouraged you to go further with your letters. You started detailing how you’d imagine him late at night, how you thought about his lips on you when you had your fingers circling your clit, how you’d wish your soft fingers were his calloused ones. Eddie seemed eager to share this development with someone, and to your rotten luck that someone was you.
He continued showing you what you wrote, unaware that he was just reading you back your own dirty secrets. Before you knew it, everything had snowballed out of control. The letters were filled with your wildest perversions and the subject of them was none the wiser. The possibility of him finding out and being so uncomfortable that he no longer wished to be kind-of-friends scared the living shit out of you, but no matter how many times you swore you were done with this bad habit you found yourself crawling back to that notebook with so many pages torn out. You really did try to stop it, but the next day Eddie would excitedly pull out a folded up piece of paper and the lovestruck look on his face as he talked about someone who actually wanted him was too much reward to not go through with the risk.
“Well,” he started as he watched the orange glow from your inhale fade away as you blew out the smoke, “she started it off by saying she wants to feel my rings on her neck while I choked her from behind.”
He laughed as he said this, so you laughed along with him. The memory of putting pen to paper and writing this came to you, but you hardly felt embarrassed anymore. You had written much, much worse. The anonymity allowed you to freely express yourself, and he seemed happy enough to hear it. Still, you couldn’t help but feel a little guilty to be keeping a secret like this, especially when you weren’t even sure he would feel the same if he ever learned the truth.
“That’s a little much,” you reply, passing the joint to him. He takes it happily, but shakes his head no.
“It’s sexy as hell, is what it is.” There’s a far off, dreamy look in his eyes as he takes his own short puff. “I’m telling you, whoever this is is my dream girl. If only I could catch her in the act, I’d drag her from my locker straight to this spot without even saying anything and eat her out in the school parking lot.” As he says this, he pays down on the blanket under you both.
“You’re not any closer in this mission?” you ask, squeezing your thighs together and storing that mental image away for later. He’s been obsessed with trying to figure out who was leaving these gifts in his locker, but thankfully he’s never been too hot on your tail.
“I just can’t find a pattern,” he grumbles. “It’s too random! All I got is the notes never show up during classes, so she has to either be coming way early in the morning or leaving them after school.” It was the latter, but you weren’t going to say that. “I’m going to find out who she is though, mark my words.”
“Well, good luck with that,” you laugh, crossing your fingers in the pocket of your hoodie.
A few days pass, and the weight on your shoulders doesn’t lighten. You’ve come to the conclusion that you have to fess up. It was the right thing to do, and Eddie wasn’t the type to judge unless being judged first. So hopefully in the unfortunate circumstance that he doesn’t return your feelings your acquaintanceship would still remain intact. 
The woods behind the school were dim. The sun was just setting and dusk was falling over Hawkins. You were overdue for a re-up, and after a phone call to the Munson residence you were instructed to wait where the two of you usually do deals. You already weren’t overly fond of Eddie’s unsettling choice of a meeting spot, and now that the sun was starting to set earlier in the day that chill in your spine was especially present. The one thing distracting you from your paranoia was the fact that he’d surely bring up the note you’d left for him yesterday, and you were dreading having to play pretend again. You were going to come clean- you promised yourself- but today was not the day. Deep in your thoughts about how and when you were eventually going to do it, you nearly jump out of your skin when a twig snaps behind you.
“Just me,” Eddie calls out from the opening in the trees, “don’t get your panties in a twist.”
“Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” you respond with a shaky laugh as he saunters toward you with total ease, completely unaffected by the eerie creepiness of the darkening forest.
“I cannot tell a lie,” he says back once he’s within arms reach of you. He looks you up and down with an unfamiliar expression, but your growing anxiety forces you to hold back the questions that you’re tempted to ask him.
“Here,” you say, holding up a ten and a five. He takes it from you wordlessly and tucks it into his back pocket before slipping his hand into his leather jacket and fishing out a small ziplock baggie. You catch it midair when he tosses it to you, and the prickling sensation of his eyes never leaving your face has you itching to lessen the tension.
“Why do we have to meet here?” you ask, hoping that making light conversation will break Eddie from whatever weird mood he’s in. “You know I hate it.”
He finally takes his eyes off of you so that he can roll them, his teeth glinting in the small amount of light when he smiles wide. “I’ve told you time and time again, no one comes out here. We’re safe, we’re alone.”
His emphasis on the word ‘alone’ strikes you as rather strange, but you elect to ignore it.
“Besides,” he continues with a nonchalant shrug, “it’s not like you ever showed me where you live.”
“Oh,” you murmur, taken aback. You could have sworn you’ve seen him driving past your house before, and you could have sworn he waved back when you did. Maybe he didn’t realize it was you? Maybe he only waved to be polite? “Well, uh… I can tell you now, I guess? Unless you want me to, like, write it down somewhere. Do you have a pen or something?”
Eddie reaches back into his jacket pocket and pulls out a black sharpie before shrugging off the leather and denim vest combo to lay it on the picnic table. “Ink me up,” he says, handing the marker to you and presenting his forearm.
Uncapping the marker, you take his arm in your hands. Your fingers brush his bat tattoos as you angle his arm toward you, and you have to fight to keep your face neutral as you write out your address. Your skin tingles yet again with the feeling of Eddie’s gaze on you as you drag the felt tip over his skin, and you don’t even realize you were holding your breath until you recap the marker and give it back to him. He takes it without breaking eye contact and tossing it next to his discarded jacket. Finally, he looks away to read his arm, and his face breaks out into a toothy grin. He barks out a short laugh, throwing his head back with glee as you watch him with a curious expression.
“What is it?” you ask. You can’t find any reason he would find where you live to be funny, so his uncalled for reaction was very puzzling.
He lowers his head to look at you once more, his smile never faltering. “Your handwriting,” is all he offers as an explanation, and with a start you realize your mistake.
Your eyes go wide as you drop the plastic baggie and it lands at your feet. Your stomach flips, your hands shake, you don’t know what to do. “Uh, i-it’s not… I don’t- um,” you stutter out, desperately searching for some kind of excuse or alibi. From the way you’re scrambling, the truth is crystal clear.
“You left me a note yesterday,” he says, cutting you off and placing his hands on your shoulder to help calm your panicking. “You wrote something that reminded me of the other day, when we were smoking in the back of my van. Do you remember?” You simply shake your head in response, your tongue feels too heavy in your mouth to form words. “I said that thing about wanting to find out who ‘Mystery Girl’ is and eat her out in the parking lot.”
The memory floods back to you, his voice reverberating in your mind. ‘If only I could catch her in the act, I’d drag her from my locker straight to this spot without even saying anything and eat her out in the school parking lot.’ Now that he’s mentioned it, you can’t believe what a foolish blunder you’ve made. His description weaseled its way into your subconscious, and without thinking through your actions you had accidentally echoed his fantasy back to him in your most recent letter. That, combined with the proof of your handwriting, was too much evidence to talk your way out of this situation. The only thing left to do was hope that he felt the same.
“You’re not upset?” you ask, something foreign swirling in your stomach and rising to your chest.
“… Upset?” he scoffs, like the mere suggestion was absurd. “I hoped it was you from the very first note.”
That leaves you speechless. All those long nights of tossing and turning over whether or not he’d ever look at you the way you looked at him suddenly feel silly. You’re so taken aback that you forget to respond, and you stand there unmoving with his hands on you. Time moves slowly as you watch him bridge the gap between the both of you.
His lips meet yours hungrily. You can tell from the determination behind the kiss that he’s done holding back, which works out greatly in your favor considering that you are too. Fingernails scratch your scalp as he tangles his fingers into your hair and tugs, eliciting a high pitched gasp from you. With your mouth now opened, he wastes no time and licks his way in. He tastes sweet, like he had a cola before coming here, but also like he had a smoke or two. It doesn’t bother you, in fact it only turns you on more. Your hands grasp at his shirt, and the fabric is softer than you figured it would be. It’s slightly worn out and obviously well loved, and the thought of you wearing it around his trailer after spending the night in his bed has you almost purring. Without warning, Eddie snakes his arm around your waist and manhandles you to be sitting on the edge of the table. He’s standing over you, staring you down with a wild look in his eyes.
“You’ve been a very bad girl,” he growls as he strokes your cheekbone with his thumb. His other hand rests on the front of your throat, applying light pressure. His grip tightens when you swallow, and his thumb on your cheek moves down to swipe across your lips, threatening to enter. “Acting like a naughty fucking slut. Driving me crazy with your filthy little love letters. I think it’s about time we act out a few of them, don’t you?”
“H- here?” you ask. Warmth trickles throughout your body at the insinuation, and though you know you should be opposed, the suggestion of him taking you right here in the woods sounds like heaven.
His eyes soften briefly, and his hold on your throat loosens. “I promise we’re alone, don’t worry. But we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
“I want to,” you quickly proclaim as you wrap both of your hands around the wrist by your neck and keep him there firmly, making sure he doesn’t let go. “I want this, Eddie. I want you.”
He smiles sweetly and tightens his grip on your neck once more. “I want you too, sweetheart,” he whispers before wetting his lips and speaking up, “Okay. If I do something you don’t like, say ‘red light’. Do you understand?”
“I understand,” you confirm, nodding your head as best as you can with his hand in the way.
“I won’t stop unless you say ‘red light’, that’s very important. Not even if you say ‘no’, or ‘stop’, or if you start crying. You get what I’m telling you?” His expression is deadly serious, but his tone is slightly patronizing. For some reason, the manner in which he’s talking like he knows more than you is extremely arousing, and you want nothing more than to give in to him and let him take control. 
He won’t continue until he knows you’re well versed with the arrangement, so you force down any nervousness in your voice as you respond. “Yes, Eddie. I understand what you’re telling me,” you say, eagerness thinly veiled. You sound desperate, even to yourself, but you can’t find it in you to care.
He lets go of you, causing your hands to slip off of his arm, and he pushes you harshly so that your back meets the wood. Your feet leave the ground as he raises your legs and scoots you back on the table until you’re fully laying on it lengthwise. Both of your wrists are pinned above your head before you even realize what’s happening, and he’s climbing on top of you and crashing his lips to yours yet again. You’re completely trapped, unable to move or even squirm with his full weight weighing you down, but you love it. Your head feels dizzy, as if you had already smoked the contents of the baggie that lays forgotten on the forest floor. Teeth sink into your bottom lip- not hard enough to draw blood, but surely enough to leave an indent. The subtle sting has you moaning into him, and he smiles against you.
“You have no idea what you’ve been doing to me this year,” he says as he props himself up on his elbows. His hair and necklace dangle down, swaying in the wind close to your face. “All the times I’ve fucked my fist to what you wrote me. We have a lot to make up for, but I think you need to be taught a little lesson first.”
Your eyebrows furrowed together. “I do?” you ask, wondering what he had in mind. There was a world of possibilities, many of which you’d outlined in your letters.
“I’d say so,” he says as he hooks his hand behind your neck and pulls you up. “So you’re going to do exactly as I say, okay sweetheart?” 
You nod dumbly, already in a headspace that’ll have you agreeing to anything he requested.
He smirks, face full of smug authority. “Good girl.”
Those words of praise fill you with pride. He takes your hips and stands you up before maneuvering you around him and jumping onto the table himself. “Come here,” he says, motioning to his legs, “lay across my lap.”
Immediately, his intention is clear. You had written to him about wanting to feel the sharp sting of him spanking you on the soft flesh of your ass as you were bent over his knee. You quickly crawl over him and rest your stomach on top of his thighs, and the light touch of his fingertips ghosts over your lower back. The sensation makes you noticeably shiver, and you swear you feel him shake with silent amusement. Your knees hit the table- they would surely not survive this exchange without getting scraped up, but the uncomfortable rubbing of wood against your skin feels uncharacteristically pleasant.
“Rings on or off?” he asks. It’ll hurt more with the metal adorning his fingers, but you want it to hurt.
 “On.”
His palm flattens against your backside, rubbing at it up and down in deceivingly comforting motions, before briefly breaking contact and smacking down hard right in the center of your left butt cheek. A loud moan involuntarily comes from deep within you. The blow wasn’t too painful considering the thick fabric of your sweatpants were able to cushion it, but you craved skin on skin impact.
“Eddie, oh my god,” you whine out, arching your back. Eddie’s other hand moves back to the front of your neck and holds it just loose enough that you can still breathe.
“Now, now. That’s not what you called me in your letters,” he says, punctuating the end of his sentence with another slap to your rear, this time on the opposite cheek.
You know exactly what he’s hinting at. “Daddy,” you correct yourself, “Daddy, please!”
“Atta girl,” he whispers, soothing the area he just struck with a rub. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your sweats and tugs them down to your thighs, and after you lift your hips he pulls off your sneakers then removes your pants the rest of the way. With them gone, the cold air of the evening has goosebumps littering the skin of your legs. “Skimpy panties,” he says, louder this time. “You wear these for me?”
“All my underwear is like this,” you tell him with a shy shrug. They were cotton, dark gray- almost black- and offered barely more coverage than a thong would.
“Oh?” he hums. “So you really are a whore, huh?”
He snaps the elastic without warning and you yelp in surprise. Then, he strikes down again, and his palm slapping your bare skin makes you instinctively attempt to muffle your moans in your elbow. His hold on your throat disappears when he harshly grabs your hand and pins it behind your back, then takes the other and does the same. You feel shuffling, and suddenly there’s fabric being looped around your wrists. When you look behind you, the bandana from his back pocket is tying your hands together.
“I don’t think so,” he says as he finishes tightening the knot, “I wanna hear all the pretty little noises you make for me. We can be as loud as we want, baby. No one’s gonna hear us. You trust me, right?”
“Yes daddy,” you answer. “I trust you.”
“Good girl.”
His hand returned to your throat and squeezed. The sounds of cursing and moaning fill the air as he brutally spanks you over and over and over. The rings you told him to keep on feel like electricity zaps every time they meet your ass, and each time he raises his arm your muscles tense up with anticipation. One tear streaks down your cheek, then two, and they tickle as they fall but you’re unable to wipe them away due to your restraints. They pass your jaw and wet Eddie’s hand, and it’s only then that he stops his attacks.
“Are you crying?” he asks, though there’s no remorse in his tone. “You remember what I told you to say if it got to be too much?” You nod your head, but don’t verbally answer. “Tell me now, as a test. This is the only time it won’t count.”
“Y- you told me to say ‘red light’,” you say with a shaky voice. There was pain present, for sure, but the pleasure was overwhelming.
“Good girl,” he replies while massaging the soreness away from your ass. “And don’t be afraid of disappointing me. I want you to use that if you’re even a little bit unsure. Promise me.”
He’s not asking, he’s demanding. “Yes daddy,” you say, “I promise.”
The crotch of your panties are pushed to the side as he dips the tip of his finger into your folds, then runs it up and down along your slit. A deep guttural groan escapes you and your forehead hits the table with a light thud. He must have let go of your throat at some point when you were distracted by his thumb brushing against your clit, and his newly free hand makes a fist in your hair. He tugs at it- mostly gentle, but the bite is still there. His thumb continues to circle your clit as one of his fingers prods at your seeping hole, pushing up against the outside without entering.
“Please, daddy, I need it,” you beg, trying to force him inside by backing into it as much as you can. “Please fuck me with your fingers, need it so bad.”
“Listen to you. You sound like such a dirty fucking slut,” he laughs, still teasing your entrance. “But that’s what you are right? Say it.”
“I’m a slut,” you say. “I’m a dirty fucking slut, okay?”
He hums his approval as his grip on your hair tightens, pulling it even more. “And whose slut are you?”
“Yours!” you exclaim. “I’m your slut, daddy. I belong to you.”
“That’s right.”
His finger plunges into you, deep and fast, and his thumb keeps its relentless pace as what feels like his middle finger pumps in and out. He reaches a spot in you that you’ve never explored before, and with his finger crooked he hits it so perfectly with every thrust. Something in your belly starts to tighten, and it’s getting dangerously close to snapping.
“I’m gonna cum, daddy!” you cry out, tears still falling down your cheeks. Eddie suddenly releases your hair and pulls his finger out of you, laughing at your whines of protest.
“Calm down,” he says as you start kicking your legs out, “I’m gonna let you cum, I just think you’ll like cumming on daddy’s cock even more.”
He slides his hand under your sweater, takes a hold of the back strap of your bra, and uses it as leverage to hoist you up onto your knees. Then, he wraps his arms around your waist and moves you onto his lap. Hardness pokes your center and the thin cotton of your panties do little to protect you from the harsh denim of his jeans rubbing against you. Now sitting astride on top of him, you can finally kiss him again. He happily obliges, and you feel his smile against your pouted lips when your arms start to struggle. You wanted to run your hands through his hair so bad that you completely forgot about the bandana binding your wrists together. Eddie deepens the kiss, his tongue parting your lips as he holds you so tight you’re half-worried your sides will be bruised. When he pulls away, a string of saliva follows and hits your chin when it breaks. Loose threads of your sweater tickle your nose as it gets lifted over your head and falls behind your back, still connected by your arms. The cups of your bra are pushed up to reveal your breasts, and Eddie’s mouth is on them in an instant. Small whimpers go ignored as he nips at the sensitive skin there and licks over your erect nipples.
After showing love to your bare chest for a couple minutes, he raises you off of him. He’s careful to cradle your head as he gently lays you down on the picnic table again, this time horizontally so that your feet rest on the connected seat. Your weight is crushing your hands that are still tied behind you, so you have no choice but to arch your back. Once you’re situated, he stands back and practically trips over his own feet as he rips his shirt from his body and kicks his shoes off. When they’re out of the way, he pulls off his jeans. Your neck strains to look at him, and the hilarity of him standing there, nude except for socks and boxers, with a very obvious boner in the openness of the woods behind the high school almost made you burst out laughing. The laugh dies in your throat when his thumbs dip into the waistband of his underwear and push them down. His cock springs up to his naval, slightly curving and leaking from the tip. The sight of what you’ve been dreaming of for all these months had your mouth watering and your cunt clenching around nothing.
Eddie shakes the boxers from his ankles and stares at you lustfully as he takes the sides of your panties. You raise your hips to help, and he must be growing restless as well because he yanks them down your thighs and off your legs in a matter of milliseconds. When your feet meet the wood of the seat again, he’s already lifting one of his legs onto it, so your heel touches his. He places both his hands on your knees and spreads them apart as wide as they’ll go. The air feels cold on your soaked center, and there’s definitely some of your arousal that’s dripping onto the table beneath you. It occurs to you that he’ll remember fucking you here everytime he does a deal with someone else, and that thought fills you with pride.
He closes the space between you two and his shaft presses along your slit- evoking a choked groan from the both of you- and his hands begin kneading at your naked breasts. Your clit is still sensitive from the edging you endured just minutes earlier, and the pressure sends shocks throughout your body. You desperately start gyrating your hips, hoping to alleviate at least some of the want inside of you. Eddie gets the message and starts grinding as well, and from his advantage point he’s able to do so with much more force. The head of his dick rubs your clit up and down with each thrust, and it becomes too much to bear.
“Please fuck me already,” you beg. “Need it, need it so bad.”
“Such a fucking whore, begging for my dick,” he says through clenched teeth, still rocking against you roughly. “You want me that bad, sweetheart? You’re that needy?”
You close your eyes and nod yes frantically, so hard that the back of your head bangs the table. The grinding stops, and you cry out in exasperation. When you look back up, Eddie is leaning over and combing through the pockets of his jacket that laid beside you. A noise of triumph tells you that he’s found what he was searching for, and he pulls out a little foil packet that was buried in the leather. He bites down on the jagged edge and tears it open with his teeth before turning his head and spitting out the trash. Once the condom is free and the rest of the packaging is also littered on the ground, he backs away slightly to roll it down his shaft. The rubber tip is placed on his head and you watch on mesmerized as he wraps his fist around his cock and strokes down until the latex is fully in place. Then, finally, he closes the distance again and teases your hole for only a moment before slowly sliding into you. Moans escape from you both. Having him inside after all this time had you cursing yourself for playing games for so long.
“You okay?” he asks, breathy and low. You can tell he wants to let go, but he’s holding back to ensure you’re ready.
“Yes,” you respond in a similar voice. “Please fuck me, daddy. Waited so long.”
“I know, baby, I know,” he says as he leans down and kisses you softly on the lips, then again on your cheek and lastly on your neck. “Me too.”
He starts moving then, still slow, determined to open you up and get you properly prepared for the oncoming onslaught. Your legs wrap around his waist and you use this hold to force him deeper, but he’s stronger than you. His pelvis kept its steady pace, and now you were crying out of impatience.
“Look so fucking pretty crying for me,” he grunts, one word for each achingly slow thrust. “So fucking desperate to be fucked like a whore. Be used like a slut. Is that what you want? For me to use you for what I need?”
“Yes!” you scream, “Yes, please. Please daddy, fuck me harder. Use me like a slut.”
“Okay, pretty girl, you asked for it,” he warns.
His rhythm picks up, and now he’s slamming into you with abandon. The sounds uncontrollably coming out of you are lewd and disgusting, but you don’t feel any shame anymore. All you care about is the feeling of him so deep inside, hitting that perfect spot over and over like he was made for you. It’s never been this perfect the first time, and you never want to have a first time ever again. The vigorous pounding drives you toward your climax at top speed, and you cling to your resolve as much as you can. You don’t want it to be over so soon, but it’s just so, so good. You can’t imagine a world where sex is always this good, but you have a suspicion that Eddie’s going to show you that world many times over.
Your legs tighten around his waist and your nails dig into your palms as his hips snap against your pelvis hard and rough repeatedly. When one of his hands leaves your chest to rub circles on your clit, you know you won’t be able to fight off your orgasm any longer. It washes over you like a tsunami, and the experience is full-body. Eddie falls onto you and mouths at your jaw lazily. He keeping fucking you through it, but the twitching of his cock inside you and the faltering of his tempo lets you know that he’s cumming too.
“F- fuck, Eddie!” you yell with your head thrown back. “Oh god, so good. Daddy!”
“You’re so good, baby. Such a sweet little pussy. So fucking tight, feels so right.” He’s slurring his compliments, head somewhere else as he rambles aimlessly into your heated skin.
The next thirty seconds consists of you switching between crying out ‘Eddie’ and ‘daddy’ as he rocks in and out, his pace slowing with each passing second. Eventually, the overstimulation is too much for the both of you and he stops, still fully sheathed inside. He relaxes on top of you and rests there, catching his breath while you try to do the same. Everything is fuzzy, like you’re trapped in a haze, and you don’t know how best to describe it other than the world feels blurry. You’re brought back to reality when he starts kissing your neck again, mouth open, warm and wet and perfect. His teeth scrape against your throat as his lips make their way to the other side of your neck, and once he’s satisfied with the trail of spit left behind he lifts his head and weakly pulls out of you.
He stumbles back and briefly takes the time to find his bearings before helping you to sit up. Once you’re upright, he wraps his arms around you as if he were going for a hug, and kisses you as he unties the bandana around your wrists. Newly free from your restraints, you wind your hands around his shoulders and hold him close so that you can deepen the kiss. He returns the favor just as passionately. You stay like that for an excessive amount of time until a particularly strong wind reminds you both that you were still outside in the woods, and it was starting to get pretty dark. Reluctantly, he breaks the embrace with a gentle caress to your cheek then collects your pants and underwear from their place on the ground, handing them back to you.
After you both finish getting dressed, you feel Eddie’s hand on your shoulder as he brushes past you to walk a couple paces to the left. He picks up the bag of weed you dropped earlier then reaches into his back pocket and pulls something else out.
“Here,” he says, handing you the baggie as well as the fifteen dollars you had paid him.
“You’re giving me the money back?” you say, confusion and fear creeping into your gut. “I hope you’re not used to getting sex as payment for drugs, cause that’s not what’s happening here.”
“Of course not,” he scoffs as he steps closer and stuffs the weed and dollar bills in the pockets of your sweats, “But being my girl comes with free merchandise privileges. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I had you paying?”
“Is that what I am?” you respond, a smile betraying your faux casual attitude. “Your girlfriend?”
“How many times have I told you that the girl leaving those letters was the girl of my dreams?” he laughs, throwing his arm around your shoulder as he begins to guide you toward the opening in the trees. “You’re mine now. That is- if you want to be?”
The worry behind that question is clear, and you squash it down instantly. “I want to be,” you answer.
“Good,” he says, pulling you into him and kissing your hairline, “Cause there’s no way in hell I’m letting you get away that easily.”
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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 3 months
Text
Hey I seen you’re asking for some Eddie requests. I was wondering if I could request something really angsty where Eddie chooses someone else over reader (can be a happy ending or not) but I just want to hurt think I need it out my system 😂 please and thank you
Request by anon.
Angsty but with a happy ending (for reader)
♥️
The heartache you felt was like nothing else, you had thought that Eddie was interested in you, that there was a possibility the two of you might start dating.
Truly you had thought that the flirting between the two of you meant something more. Yet it didn't.
Instead of asking you on a date, Eddie had chosen to date Louise King.
In truth, you didn't even find out until school on Monday, the school was abuzz sigh gossip and your best friend Tina told you.
"Oh my god, did you hear about Louise and Eddie, she hooked up with the freak at Jason's party and they are together now. Like together together" her eyes light up with the absolute scandal of it all while you felt like your heart was being stamped on.
"What?" you whisper but Tina doesn't hear you and instead focuses on gossiping with Anna. You feel nauseated and decide to go and find Eddie, you don't have to look far, Louise is hanging off him like a limpet, she's all giggly and hyper.
"Uh, can we talk for a second Eddie. Um about our class project?" you didn't have one but it's the only way you figured you could speak to him.
Fortunately, he takes the hint and removes himself from Louise, he follows you to a more secluded area and you peer up at him confused.
"What's going on Eddie, I thought that you might have asked me out, that we had a spark but now I come to school and you're dating Louise?" you murmur and Eddie's eyes flicker with something you can't place before his face turns smooth and impassive.
"Yeah. Well, you thought wrong sweetheart, I'm not interested in you and never have been" he's so cold as he says this and you blink back tears.
"Right. So instead of telling me this, you lead me on and let me flirt with you like a fool to what? Stroke your ego? You're an asshole Eddie Munson. Exactly like Jason except he wouldn't even do this" you see the flash of hurt in his eyes but don't care and walk away from him.
Tough shit.
Finally, the tears fall freely.
❤️
After avoiding Eddie and Louise all day you head out of school in a rush to get home. Your heart is still aching and you just want to crawl in bed and cry everything out.
In your rush to get away, you stumble and drop your notes from class, wipe the tears away from your eyes and try to pick them all up. Fuck, stupid notes, stupid Eddie.
Someone helps you gather them all, you see tanned hands gather them quickly and when you peer up Steve is smiling at you. Oh... you smile shyly at him and say thanks.
"No problem honey, hey did you watch that movie last week that I recommended? Back to the future is a superior film" you giggle and shake your head.
"No, not yet" You swear that you can feel eyes on you but when you turn around no one is there.
Weird.
Steve is sweet and very flirty, actually flirting with you and making you laugh. It's a nice feeling after today and maybe things eventually might be okay?
Steve offers to drive you home and you nod still smiling. "Hey, you been crying?" he asks concerned and you shrug.
"Just thought this guy liked me. Turned out I was very wrong" The pain hits you again but you manage to ignore it. Steve frowns at this.
"Well then he's a dickhead and not worth your time, hey you wanna hang with me and Robin today?" Yes, yes you really would.
As you're leaving you don't notice Eddie leaning up against the wall and watching you and Steve leave together.
Even if you did well why should you care? Eddie made his bed so he would just have to lie in it.
❤️
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wolfstardaughter-jj · 9 months
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DENSE
Summary: Yule Ball is right around the corner and you still haven't found a date. Or at least decided on asking someone as a date. But your heart is set on a certain redhead who just isn't taking a hint and is as dense as a rock.
Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader
Song: Must be Love by Laufey
Warning: fluff, anxiety rant (reader stressed with school)
Word count: 4.8k+
A/n: honestly I started this around February this year and forgot about it... yeah that bad. I wanted to get it out of my system since it's been there for a while. This was actually meant to be part of my serendipity book but i still havent written the other chapters but I really like this chapter. Either way I hope you lovelies will enjoy it, Happy holidays<3333
~~~~~~~
Everyone was ecstatic from the announcement of the Yule ball. It was the first ever dance they were to have at the school and everyone was already starting off their plans on what to wear and who to go with. With the Triwizard tournament at hand, you were glad there was something to take your mind off the stress.
Training and helping Harry through all of the practices were starting to wear you out.
At the moment, all of you were in the Great hall simply studying. You were nearly done with your assessment when from the corner of your eye, you spot Fred throwing a piece of paper towards his younger brother.
Ron raised his head up in annoyance, wondering why his brother would want to disturb him. He opened the ball of crumpled paper and read the words "you better get a move on or else there won't be any girl to ask to be your date." Or something like that, he only skimmed through it.
Ron gave Fred an annoyed stare, "Who are you going to the Yule ball with then?"
Fred crossed his arms and sent Ron a smirk, "Well, I still have to ask them. I’m thinking on doing it really soon,"
Your ears prick up at his words. He's planning on asking someone else to the ball? Of course he'd be going with someone but you had always hoped it would be you.
Your heart sank at the mere thought he was going to ask someone else to the Yule ball.
Ron looked surprised, he thought that Fred had already asked you but he was wrong. He looked towards you, seeing you leaned over your assessment, looking like you didn't care to pay mind to what he and Fred were talking about. But in truth, you did care, you cared a whole lot.
"How about you Y/n? Who are you going with? Lots of guys have been asking you lately, it shouldn't be too hard to choose one." Ron asked, not knowing that this was sparking a little jealousy in Fred.
You looked up from your paper and looked at Ron. You saw the worried glances Harry and Hermione were sending your way.
"I won't tell you cause it's a surprise." You whispered back with a wink before looking back down on your activity.
Fred tensed up at your words, it sounds like you already accepted to be someone’s date. He didn't want to pry on who it was in case he might get his heart even more broken, but of course, curiosity got the best of him.
"Really? Why am I only hearing of this now?" Fred asked.
"Well technically they haven't asked me yet so I'm going to ask them instead." You replied courtly.
Fred seemed perplexed. They haven't asked her to the ball yet? What an idiot. Oh god wait, is she planning on asking that Beauxbatons girl? No she wouldn't, she would have told me.
"...so who's the lucky girl- or guy?" Fred stumbled on his words as he leaned in. He really wanted to know who it was, even if it was at the expense of his own feelings.
You look at him with a grin, trying to mask the slight nervous breakdown you were having within. It was ironic that he was asking about this especially since it was him you were talking about.
"I'm not telling you who it is, Freddie. Like I said, it's a surprise." You state as you finish up your assessment.
"Oh come on, you don't need to tell me their name. Maybe give me some clues? Like which school they're going to-"
You narrowed your eyes at him, knowing how stubborn he was going to be about this. "Well that would just narrow down your possible choices."
He started shaking your arm like a child asking their parents for a sweet in a sweet shop. "Come on, just tell me."
You shook your head and laughed at his dramatics. "Fred, you should finish up your activity."
"Hey, don't change the subject." Fred pointed out.
"You're not gonna do it till I tell you, huh?" You said with an unimpressed stare.
"Nope. Now can you at least tell me one thing?" He urged on.
You let out a sigh as you went deep in thought. Do you really want to help him in finding out who it is or leave him to his madness. You decided on the first choice. It wasn't like he was gonna figure out it's him.
"They're studying here at hogwarts."
"...Yeah, that totally narrows down the choices." Fred sighed. "Which house are they in?"
You chuckled, "like I'd tell you that. That would make it too obvious."
Hermione laughed from the other side. "Y/n, even if you say what house they're in, I don't think they'll be able to figure out who it is."
You thought about it for a second and realized she had a point. "Huh, you're right." You agreed with a chuckle.
"What's that supposed to mea- you know what, I don't wanna know. What I do wanna know is, who this person is." Fred was adamant at finding out who the mystery person was, and it was starting to make you nervous that he might actually figure it out.
He sat up once he found an alternative solution to his predicament. "Oh, I know, I'll name a bunch of people, and you tell me if they're the person. Okay?"
"What if I lied and said no even if they were the person I was going to ask to the ball?" You smirked, which was only returned with an unimpressed glare.
Fred was about to say something but decided against it. "I'll just do it anyways… is it Diggery."
You shook your head a no.
"Draco?"
You cringed at the thought, no offense to Draco. Besides you knew he had his eyes in a certain Gryffindor. "Godric no, he's already planning on going with someone else."
Both Harry"s and Fred's eyes seemed to widened at the statement, Harry seemed even more surprised.
They both yelled out in unison, "He is?!”
Snape went in to scold the two for their outburst. Removing 5 house points from each of them. Causing the surrounding students to send their glares towards the two.
“Yes he is! Now hush the both of you!” You scolded as you continued with your work.
“Right, I shouldn't get distracted… How about that Freya girl?" He spoke her name in doubt, scared that he might be right.
You chuckled at the mention of her name, "No, she's going with her girlfriend."
Fred's heart settled at the realization, abit shocked by the new information but he was delighted to have that thought settled in his mind. That means you weren't going to act on your childhood crush. But then the thought entered his mind that it meant you were planning on going with someone else, someone he wasn't aware of.
"How about… Neville?"
"Already going with someone."
"Dean?"
"He plans on asking someone else."
"Zabini?"
"Nice guy but no."
"Nott?"
"He's going stagg."
"I don't know why I'm even asking this but, how about Lee?"
You immediately shook your head a no.
Lee perked up from his seat at the mention of his name. "Huh? I heard my name, what's going on."
George leaned over and told Lee about the situation.
"Ohhh, I see." Lee chuckled, "this is going to be fun." He whispered back.
"Godric...well uh, is it Louis?" Fred guessed. At this point he didn't know who else could be the possible match.
"No. He is a good option but no." You simpered on, wondering where this conversation was going to take you.
"I give up on doing this, just answer my questions." Fred continued. "Do you talk to them everyday?"
The question seemed vague enough for him to not know who so it didn't hurt to answer him. “Yes,”
Fred went deep in thought, why did he even choose this question? "Who would you be talking to that I wouldn't know about...
You all chuckled to hear his words, he may seemed to be really observant when it came to you but completely oblivious at the same time.
"Oh wow Fred, you take note of who y/n talks to everyday?" George teased, though Fred didn't really see it that way.
"So what? I'm with her almost all the time, I would know who she'd be talking to." Fred explained.
"You aren't with her all the time. What about during class hours?" Hermione stated.
Fred looked dumbfounded, he didn't think of that.
Harry leaned over to you, making sure no one else heard him other than you, "I wonder how long it's going to take for him to realize it's him."
"Give it 2-3 business days." You replied with a chuckle.
Fred turned back to you with another question in mind. "What does their name start with?"
You shook your head with a chuckle. "I'm not going to answer that."
"Ugh, fine. Are they taller than you?"
You laughed at his question, "Yes." By a lot.
"That question doesn't even help. Lots of people are taller than Y/n." Harry commented earning a smack on the head from you. You caught Fred laugh at his joke which you used to your advantage.
You gasped and feigned an insulted look, "Okay, ouch. I was just thinking about telling you who it was but I changed my mind." You scooted away, with a false pout.
Fred laughed, trying to pull you back to him by pulling you by the waist. "I'm only joking, love."
You replied with an eye roll, trying to conceal the grin that slowly crept onto your lips.
You began packing your things before facing Fred again, "Seeing as you're not doing the activity, I'm going to go and spend the rest of the period outside."
“Oh come on, tell me who it is.” Fred stated with a pout as he theld onto your hand to keep you from leaving.
“Like I said before, no.” You replied with a teasing grin before grabbing the rest of your things.
You stood up from your seat and handed in your paper to Snape. He seemed to have been listening in on your conversation. He seemed to find your conversation quite amusing.
"If that Weasley boy doesn't ask you soon, I think it's better you accept Diggery's offer." He suggested in his usual monotone voice but there was this spark of interest in his eyes on the topic which surprised you.
“Professor Snape!” You laughed, surprised by this side of your professor.
“I'm just saying,” He simply shrugged before walking off with your work.
~~~~~~
The following day was hectic, more so than usual.
Most of the classes were finishing up their lessons so that during the holiday break you'd all be free from the burdens of school work. But it didnt help when they just piled more school work over the other to cram everything in one go.
Things seemed worse for you since you had decided to take up more classes this year. Not just that, but you somehow tangled yourself into becoming a some sort of charm fixer for the younger years whenever they'd mess up a spell.
And because Harry got himself stuck with being a triwizard champion for Hogwarts. You had to help him with spells and charms just so he could survive the challenges. You wouldn't be able to to live with yourself if anything were to happen to him under your watch.
As the holiday's were approaching, the only decent things about your schedule was the dance classes in between subjects. You had already learned how to waltz when you were a girl. Your parents weren't ones to host glamorous balls but your grandparents were. You had fond memories of your dance classes during your summers spent abroad. Twirling endlessly in studios till your head wouldn't stop spinning.
McGonagall appeared at the front of the hall and cleared her throat to call the attention of the crowd. "find your partners everyone, we will begin shortly."
Everyone began scattering across the room searching for their partners. You had the tendency to switch partners every now and then since the boys kept asking if you could show them the steps to the dance. You didn't mind, even if it meant getting your toes stepped on every now and again.
As you looked across the room, you wondered who you would be dancing with this time. Your own question was answered when your hand was suddenly grabbed and you were twirled around to be flush against someone's chest.
"Freddie!" You laughed, the wind was nearly knocked out of you from the sudden turn.
"You don't mind having this dance with me, do you love?" He asked with a tilt of his head.
You shook your head with a grin, "No, I don't mind at all."
Your hands were intertwined as your other hand rested on his shoulder and his hand grasped your waist. There was no tense atmosphere compared to the other boys who always seem to stray away from their confident selves when around you. But not Fred, no. He was always his true self around you.
The music began playing and echoed through the hall. Light footsteps pattered across the floor as people tried to find their footing. Some seemed to struggle more than others but that wasn't the case for you and Fred.
The two of you danced across the floor in sync. The two of you paid little mind to everything around you as you both were lost in your own world. Like your heart harmonised with the beat of his heart and that was the only rhythm you guys needed to dance.
"You've improved since the last time we've danced." You teased as you continued your steps.
Fred rolled his eyes at the memory of his poor attempt at trying to dance the waltz with you during one of your grandparents balls. He didn't exactly want to be there in the first place let alone dance a waltz he's never learned. But he didn't want to leave you there alone either. You wanted to dance, so he danced with you.
"Careful, I might step on one of your toes again." He taunted as he went along with your teasing.
You shook your head with a laugh. You had hoped that he would be your date for the ball. When he accompanied you to your grandparents' ball, it was like something out of a fairy tale. Though he stepped on your toes once or twice, it was all worth it. Especially when around the end, the two of you were left alone out in the gardens to stargaze the rest of the night.
Maybe, just maybe he would ask you to the ball.
Fred knew from your silence, you were stuck in thought. "You're still not going to tell me who it is?"
Your eyes snapped back to him, "Who?"
"The one you're taking to the ball." He replied almost in a whisper. At this point he wondered if he should still be asking about who it is. Is he really going to subject himself to this hurt?
Your eyes softened at his question. "Freddie..." you could tell him the truth. You could tell him that the guy you most desperately want to go to the ball with was him. But you were too scared to do so. Godric forbid you had any bravery left in you to tell him your true feelings.
You could casually ask him to the ball. Make nothing of it. To go as friends. But something in your gut told you that if you went together, things would be different. Things were different.
You weren't just little kids anymore. You were both at that stage in your life where love and relationships were the main focus of everyone's lives. If you screw up things with Fred, you'd probably spiral into a mess.
"You don't have to tell me. Just make sure to save me a dance, alright?" You could feel the defeat sink into his voice. But before you could do anything about it you were pulled away by another person to continue the waltz.
You caught a glimpse of Fred and you could feel your heart start breaking. You wanted to tell Fred but was it really worth the cost?
~~~~~~
It had been two days since Fred had questioned you about the mystery guy and you thought he just dropped the topic and forgot, but you were wrong.
Truth was, it was all he could think about. He didn't even try to ask you to go with him to the ball that day because he was scared he was going to get shot down.
And if you were being honest, he was all you could think about too. Not just on the fact that he was so adamant at knowing who the mystery person was, but also because he too had someone on his mind on who to ask for the ball.
If there was already someone he planned on asking, why even bother asking him to be your date to the ball? You felt hopeless and most of all, stupid for ever thinking you had a chance at asking Fred to the ball.
These thoughts consumed you to the point you didn't even want to try to sleep anymore. You just laid there on your bed, staring at the ceiling. Eventually you got hungry and tired of your own thoughts.
You got up from your bed and slowly crept away from the girl's dormitory, being careful not to wake anyone up, especially Stark. Godric knows how grumpy that cat gets when he gets woken up. You didn't currently have the map with you since it was with Harry but you didn't mind. You've basically engraved the school's layout in your mind.
You eventually reached the portrait and got out. It wasn't totally pitch black but it would help to have a little light help guide your way.
As you walked through the empty hallways, you couldn't help but think about all the things that were troubling you these last few days. I guess lots of things have been bothering you lately. You didn't exactly know where to start.
The thought that Harry was constantly being placed out into the line of danger and you not being able to help him is killing you. You have always been there to protect him and help him out but with the stupid Triwizard tournament rules getting in your way, you can't do anything about it.
Your stroll eventually led up to the kitchens, quickly grabbing a few snacks and bidding daisy and the other elves goodbye before going around the castle again. You missed these peaceful silences.
In all honesty you were suffocating from all of the school work and activities brought by the Triwizard tournament. You may not have been part of them but your professors seemed to have the impression that you were capable of handling lots of extra school tasks.
Like helping lead the class in dance classes in preparation for the Yule ball since you had experience in ball dancing. Assisting in charms classes in the lower years in your free time. Being a sort of ambassador for the foreign students seeing as you can speak French and russian. As if already having to deal with your normal studies and Quidditch wasn't enough.
You liked that they thought of you as a responsible student but you were juggling so many things that you rarely had the time for anything fun anymore. While your friends were off pranking, you were stuck helping second years undo charms that went wrong. While Kayla, Pansy and Mione were doing their usual "book club" sessions, you were busy helping Harry figure out how to do certain spells.
Your mind was so wrapped up in all your worrying that you didn't even realize that your footsteps led you to Monty. You grinned at the sight of the tree.
"Hello old friend." You greeted as you sat at the root of the tree.
You snacked on your food as you contemplated in silence. Though the tight feeling was still present in your chest, it felt comforting to be in a place that made you feel safe.
You leaned your head back on the tree and looked up at the star covered sky. You missed star-gazing. With all of the chaos, you haven't been able to star-gaze in a while.
Like a gush of fresh air passing you, you knew a presence was nearby. One that you were all too well familiar with.
You turned your head to look at him with a light grin. There he stood in his plaid pajamas and initial sweater.
"How come you always manage to find me?" You asked, tilting your head with a chuckle.
"I should be the one asking why you're always wandering off, in the middle of the night no less." Fred replied as he sat down next to you.
You both sat there quietly; looking up at the stars, mostly lost in thought. That was until Fred decided to break the silence.
"Why are you up so late? I know you don't usually sleep early but even 3 am is a stretch for you.” Fred stated as he pointed at his watch. ”What's on your mind, Carrington?"
A concerned look fell on your face, you didn't realize that much time passed already. You let out a sigh, you knew you were going to end up exhausted the next day.
"Honestly?" You inquired.
Fred nodded at you with sincerity, he had all his attention focused on you.
You sighed and suddenly the words just poured out of you, "it's just… so much is happening and I don't know how to deal with it all. I have to assist the younger years in charms, quidditch training, normal classes, foreign students and- il se passe trop de choses et j'ai l'impression que je vais pleurer et crier mais-" (too much is happening and i feel like I'm going to cry and scream but-). You paused, forgetting that Fred didn't know a lick of French.
"Fuck sorry, I didn't mean to do that." You apologized as you sunk your face into your hands.
"No, no, it's okay. Just keep going. I'll listen, even though I don't understand a single word of french. I'll be here to listen." He replied as he wrapped his arm around you and pulled you closer to him.
You nodded as you continued on in your rant, the words were all coming out like a broken dam. "It's just that so much is going on and pour l'amour de la merde, you'd think they'd give a 4th year a break. I feel like I'm on the verge of breaking down every minute but I won't let myself go because there's still so much meant to be done."
You haven't really told anyone about how stressed you've been feeling lately and it felt so great to actually tell someone. Fred nodded along as he listened to you. There was this look on his face, as though he hung on every word you said, regardless if it was in a foreign language.
"Oh darling, I'm so sorry you've been doing all that work. They should be paying you at this point. Is there anything I can do to lessen the load?" Fred asked as he brushed and stroked your hair.
You sighed and closed your eyes, "unfortunately, no."
He tilted his head, as if not believing what you said. “Are you absolutely sure? Cause you know me, I can give Minnie and Alby a piece of my mind.”
“Thanks for the offer but I'm sure I can handle it." You leaned your head on his shoulder in defeat.
"I know you can, but it doesn't mean you have to." He replied, rubbing his hand over your arm.
All these years, he's been by your side through it all. Through all the Voldemort nonsense, through the injuries, through the nightmares, everything.
"Freddie." You whispered.
"Yeah, love?" He replied.
"Thank you."
He faced you with this puzzled look, "For what?"
You gave him a simple shrug, thinking the answer was already obvious. "For just being there for me."
Fred's features softener and pulled you in closer to his side. "Anything for you, darling. You know that."
“I do…I hope you know the same applies to you.” You replied as you looked up at him.
“I do.” He nodded as he looked up at the stars. They were incredibly bright tonight, he wondered if you always wandered out here just to look at the stars to clear your head. That would explain why he would always find you here.
“When was the last time we went stargazing together?”
You grinned at the memory, “last summer when we went camping on the reserve.”
“We should do it again.” He replied, his eyes still glued to the stars.
You look at him with a cheek aching smile, “yeah, we should.” He may have meant the stars in the sky, but to you, it meant the freckles that were scattered across his cheeks like constellations. Those were the stars you were willing to spend endless nights studying.
“Can we just look at the stars while they're still out?” He laced his fingers between yours, gently rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.
“Okay.” You replied, snuggling yourself closer to Fred to get comfy as you looked up at the sky.
And that's what you both did till dawn came. The sky twisting in colors of peach and purple as the sun slowly rose over the grounds of Hogwarts. It was a quiet morning, and for once your mind was quiet too.
Maybe it had something to do with the boy whose shoulder you were resting your head on or the peaceful ambience the morning brought you. You didn't really care, you were happy and that was it.
You couldn't help but feel a sudden surge of confidence flow through you. It could have been your mind lacking sleep but everything that was holding you back from telling Fred about your feelings just flew out the window.
You wanted to tell him, and you wanted to tell him now.
You sat up and turned to Fred in a rushed motion. Your movements startled the boy but he was left waiting for whatever you were about to do.
“What's wrong, love?” He asked you, surprisingly not as sleepy as you expected him to be.
“Remember what I said about that person I was going to ask to the Yule ball?” You hesitated with your words. You weren't even sure if you were thinking straight. You prayed that whatever words formed in your head would be the right words to say to Fred.
Fred tensed at your words. He nodded slightly, hoping that the next words that would leave your mouth wouldn't hurt too much.
“Well…” You felt your throat go dry but you were already in too deep, you had to commit. “To tell you the truth, they're really really really dense. And honestly I don't even know why they would even want to go with me if the opportunity presented itself but-.”
Fred's forehead creased at your words, who wouldn't want to go with you to the ball? That would be like turning down the chance to enter heaven. “Why'd you think that, love? Anyone lucky enough to even be in your sights should be thanking God or whatever force for putting you on this earth.”
You felt your cheeks go bright red and your heart beat ten times faster. You weren't even sure if you could have controlled it with Fred's words just pouring out of his mouth like they just came to him naturally. He didn't even stop there. Once he started he couldn't stop.
“I mean look at you, I don't think I can think of anyone else in the whole entire world that could even come close to how perfect you are. I mean sure, you're basically a night owl with how little you sleep because you'd rather read than have a decent amount of sleep,”
You laughed at his little comment, shoving him slightly in the shoulder, but that didn't stop him from continuing his rant.
“You literally land in the hospital wing every week or so because you'd rather put yourself in harm's way than others. And you don’t even like sharing your cookies but you still do. You even ask your grandmother to send more cookies just so you can share more of them. All these things I just listed down are just more reasons why you’re perfect- and why I love you.” He let those words slip past his lips so quickly he barely even registered them. By the time he realized what he said he knew he couldn't take them back, nor did he want to.
“And yes, I love you… and not just in a friend way but the “I love you so much that if you're not around I can't breathe and the mere thought that you probably like someone else is killing me”... way.”
You were left speechless. You felt like a complete idiot at that moment. You both were fools from the start. How couldn't you have seen the signs?
He was the only one there for you when no one else was. That time you landed in the hospital wing after a full moon incident from helping your uncle moony, he was the one who stayed by your side all those nights.
When you got a cold after a snowball fight with the Weasley’s over the holidays, Fred visited you nearly everyday at the Manor to check on you before he too caught a cold. Then it was your turn to take care of him.
When you got detention from getting caught for a prank you pulled, Fred got himself detention so you wouldn't be alone.
Fred felt his chest tighten at the silence, you haven't said a thing in the last few seconds and it was terrifying. “I know you probably don't feel the same-”
Finally, you snapped out of your self inflicted scolding and reached over with one hand to keep you up and the other on Fred cheek. “My god you are dense.” with that, your lips crashed into his and suddenly everything fell into place.
All the years of pining. All the endless hours of you avoiding and hiding your feelings when all along, the both of you were just too scared of saying how you felt.
His hand slipped over to your cheek while his other hand gripped your waist. He couldn't even process his thoughts about what was happening. Was this actually real? Was this a dream? Was he even awake?
His thoughts were silenced when you pulled away just slightly to let out a small whisper, something that was meant for him and him alone, “I love you too.”
A grin grew on Fred's lips, going up ear to ear. It felt like hearing your favorite song for the first time. You loved him. He couldn't believe it. Fred pulled you in for another kiss but it was difficult from how he just couldn't stop smiling.
“Really?” He asked, his voice heavy with bliss and giddiness. It was like the whole world just lit up for him. He really couldn't believe it.
You let out a light laugh at the sight, “Yes, really.” Before placing a peck on his lips.
“Are you absolutely sure?” He asked again, this time with a smirk and his usual tone of arrogance. Sure he still couldn't fully wrap his head around the thought that you, the girl of his dreams, actually loved him back. But that still didn't stop him from teasing the living daylights out of you.
You pondered on the question further, knowing how Fred loved to play this game. Your silence only furthered the fun when Fred began to grow impatient. “On second thought…”
Fred let out a chuckle before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you up to his lap, “Nice try love. You've already said the words. You can't take them back.”
You rolled your eyes jokingly before facing him with a cheek aching grin, “oh no, what shall I ever do?” You replied with feigned fear before letting out another laugh.
Fred leaned over to your cheek, his nose barely grazing over the surface of your cheek. “How about I take you to the ball as…your boyfriend?”
You pulled away with a grin, "Are you sure?”
Fred looked off into the distance and tapped his finger over his chin, “Hmmm, you know on second thought-”
You let out a laugh before resting your hands at the back of his neck, “Nuh uh, you already said the words, Freddie. You can't take them back.” You repeated his words back to him with a smirk.
He pulled you in for another kiss to wipe away that smirk. But he then pulled away, just slightly, “You have my heart, love. I don't think I'll be able to take that back either.”
Feeling the blush rush up to your cheeks, you could only hide your flustered state in the crook of his neck. Now it was his turn to smirk.
“Don't get shy on me now, love.” Fred spoke as he hugged you tight. He thought that this was just too good to be true. He thought that maybe if he didn't hold on tight enough, all of this would cease to exist and reveal itself to be a dream.
You lifted your head out of the crook of his neck, only to feel the heat rush back to your cheeks. Seeing as the sun was rising up already, the blush was much more evident on your cheeks.
Fred looked at you with a soft smile, it was finally sinking in. He was finally yours, and you were finally his. And though the two of you may be dense, Godric knows Fred is never going to let you forget he loves you.
"I love you so much."
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spider-man-199999 · 1 year
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pairing: college!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader; Post nwh; not too canon
word count: 6K
warnings: underage drinking for USA citizens; mentions of sex
summary: Peter thought no one remembered him after the spell, however you did, but not for the reasons he was afraid you would. Mostly fluff and slow burn romance.
a/n: I'm a sucker for college!Peter, I literally cannot think about anything else. ANY SCIENCE TALK IS A BUNCH OF BS I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT CHEMISTRY OR SCIENCE.
part2
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"Hey, catch!" you heard a male voice from somewhere behind you, making you turn towards the sound. A brown leather football flew throgh the air, landing in your feet. You picked it up, throwing it back to the shirtless man that was jogging in your direction.
"Thanks!!" He said after he caught it, running off back to whoever the other shirtless dude he was playing with was.
"Yeah no problem..." you muttered under your breath, trying to hide how flustered you were.
It was orientation week at Empire State University.
The weather, apparently, was still warm enough to have people running shirtless around campus, and being the shy, awkward geek you were, it was hard not to get embarrassed by any social interaction, let alone one that included both sport and a half-naked man. Overall, orientation week was going well. You checked out a few classes that sparked some interest, went to the library, the gym, even got completely settled in your dorm room. Things were going smoothly, excluding the fact you hadn't really met anyone new. Most of the people in your classes seemed like they already knew at least one person and stuck to them. Since you were not really the type to go out of your way and approach people, it left you walking around campus alone, sitting in class alone and even eating alone. It wasn't all that bad, just lonely. Your roommate hadn't arrived on campus yet either, so everything felt especially odd to you, like you were invisible to everyone. 
Four days in and the long walks between buildings were already annoying. It was so easy to get lost or distracted on the way between buildings. You didn't know the shortcuts yet, so it was always a hazard whether you would make it to class on time. Miraculously you got there early, and gave yourself a mental praise for that. You didn't expect to actually be in a lab on the first day of class, and were glad you got there on time because there were barely enough lab coats for everyone in the room. You really didn't want to be the freak who wasn't wearing one. You scanned the room as you sat down on one of the desks, secretly praying that this class wouldn't require having a lab partner or work in groups because it was going to make you feel even worse. And as you were stalking the people around you, your eyes landed on someone who looked suspiciously familiar. He wasn't terribly tall, curly brown hair, one backpack over his shoulder, flannel shirt over a plain white t-shirt and regular blue jeans. You could recognise Peter Parker from miles away. You've never felt so terrified and so excited at the same time. You finally knew someone in this university and it had to be him of all people. He never told you he was going to ESU. In his defense, you couldn't really recall ever speaking to him. You used to have the biggest crush on him back in high school, but never gathered the courage to actually chat him up, even if it were about homework. He never got assigned as your partner on a project either (no matter how many times you would fantasize about it), so you just graduated one day and accepted the fact it just wasn't meant to be. 
But now you were presented with the perfect opportunity to actually talk to him and decided to take it. Unfortunately, the class started before you could approach him. You tried your best to keep your focus on the professor, but it seemed as if that was not necessary, he was only going over the main goals of the class and what books you would need. You sneakily looked over Peter from time to time, thinking about what would be best to say to him and not make it awkward. 
The class was over in the blink of an eye, which made your heart beat pick up because you no longer had an excuse to not approach him. There was a line forming around the coat hangers, which you thought was going to be the best way to casually start a conversation. You cut the line when you saw Peter hang up his coat, putting yours next to his and smiling at him. He smiled back when the two of you locked eyes. 
"Hey" you said "Peter Parker, right?"
He looked a bit stunned by your question. First, he was starstruck because the prettiest girl he had ever seen came out of nowhere and greeted him and secondly, she knew his name. And that was not supposed to be like this at all. His mind was rushing and calculating how it were possible. Were you a supervillain from an alternate reality trying to expose him? Or did the spell just not work on you? All of the scenarios seemed very bad for him. 
The way he just sat there and said nothing was making you extremely nervous. It did feel like a terrible idea now that you had done it. 
"We used to take Spanish together in high school." you added, your voice shaking slightly from the anxiety. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything, I'm really sorr-"
"Wait Spanish?" he finally said, his theories crumbling down when he realized what was actually going on. You were no supervillain, just an old classmate. Yet, he was sure he would have remembered you. 
"I really don't remember..." he continued, feeling his cheek heat up.
"Oh that's fine, we never really... spoke? Like at all, I sat all the way in the back and no one could make me say a word."
He laughed softly at your words. 
"Wanna discuss this over coffee? If you don't have any other classes?"
"I'm free, so yeah, we could grab a coffee"
20 minutes later the two of you were laughing over how ridiculous you looked in the yearbook. Peter was holding your phone and looking at the photo in which you still had braces on, your eyebrows were so badly drawn on because you thought shaping them with a razor the night before was a good idea. It was not, you shaved off so much from one of them you had to fill it in. And since it was your first ever filling eyebrows in, it was very, very bad.  Also, your hair looked like it was made out of dark matter, because you recently had it dyed black, straightened it and accidentally put a bit too much hair oil on it. You were definitely not having a good time back then, but it was a small price to pay to hear Peter laugh so hard. A 4-month accutane treatment to acne and taking your braces off could really make a person change enough. It was a glow up and Peter could really see it now. 
"Okay now that I've seen that, I actually do remember you! You're the girl that got hit in the head with a basketball while tying her shoes on the bench during gym! Somehow you fell back and got under the benches so I had to pull you out."
"Oh no" you whined, hiding your face in your hands to hide how hard you were blushing. And he was right, that really did happen once, and it was that moment that actually started your little crush on him. You were probably 14 when it happened. You fell under the bleachers and felt so embarrassed that you froze on the spot, feeling like crying. People came running towards you, Peter beating them to it, and pulled you out by the hand. He dusted your shirt off and asked if you were alright. To your teenage mind he came in like a knight in shining armor, and it made you fall for him, very hard. 
''Come on, it wasn't that bad!" he said between laughs, giving your phone back. 
"It was bad, like really bad. How can your only memory of me be my worst moment in high school?''
"If that's your worst moment, you were doing good."
You took a sip from your coffee, your finger tracing the rim of the paper cup once you placed it down on the table. You really were regretting not talking to him in school, he seemed like such a nice person, you would have been good friends. 
"Why did you decide to go to ESU? I thought you had plans to go to MIT with your friends."
"Oh, I didn't get in."
"Yeah, totally sounds believable, Peter Parker, the Stark intern, highest SAT score in our grade, didn't get into MIT" you said sarcastically, shaking your head at him. 
He sighed, looking down at his hands. His leg started bouncing under the table and he suddenly seemed tense. Now it really did feel believable, based on his reaction. 
"Sorry, I didn't mean to..."
"It's okay, honestly I was so sure I would get in too, but I don't think I ended up at a bad place"
"Obviously you didn't, I chose ESU, which makes it the best place ever. And now that I know you're here too, I get double confirmation for that." 
He laughed softly at your words.
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A few weeks later you were actually glad to have to work in pairs in the lab because Peter asked you to be his partner. 
You arrived just before the class started, sitting down at the table and putting your protective goggles on. 
"Sorry" you said as you sat down next to him, taking the empty flask that was sitting in front of him and immediately starting to mix the things you managed to read on the board. 
Peter smiled at you as he watched you, doing his own thing which you didn't pay too much attention to. 
"Roommate problems again?" he asked. 
Being lab partners meant the two of you had to talk regularly, which led to getting closer. You didn't know many people there besides him and your nightmare of a roommate. 
"You have no idea." you sighed, dropping a few droplets into a test tube. The mixture inside started smoking up slightly, you swirled it around until it stopped, passing it to him so he could heat it up. 
"What did she do this time?"
"Locked me in and took both of the keys on her way out. I had to call her to come back and unlock, she was pissed."
"Still don't get how someone can be so rude to you for no reason."
"I don't think she hates me really, she hates the idea of me. Not every 3rd year student is keen on the idea of babysitting a freshmen, I totally get that."
Peter wrote something down in his notebook after the mixture started bubbling up. You looked at it, brows furrowing. 
"What's the temperature?"
"140 F" 
"Peter that's not supposed to happen" you said worried 
"Actually it is, you didn't have the time to read the board and put only half"
"Oh-"
He removed the test tube, letting it cool down.
"It's okay, we'll just multiply it by two."
"Sometimes I wonder what I would do if you weren't here."
"Probably blow up the place."
You rolled your eyes at him before the both of you laughed, continuing your work. You tried being more concentrated now, and for the most part it was working out. Until Peter would roll up his sleeves and expose his forearms. Or when he would take the goggles off to fix his hair. You tried staring as discreetly as possible, but he probably did notice it every time.
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That same night was your first ever frat party. You weren't really a fan of parties, the high school ones you went to were boring but you were hoping that college ones were going to live up to the hype everyone was giving them. Plus, you were trying to make amends with your roommate, and she wanted some alone time with her boyfriend back at your place. The idea of frat boys really turned you off, you had seen more than enough of them in class and around campus. 
The music was booming through the speakers as you entered the house, people were everywhere. You could barely squish through the crowd, it was barely 10 pm and people were already wasted. You really wanted to let loose that night too, so you made it over to the bar and took whatever drink was handed to you first. It was vodka. Tasted bitter and burned down your throat and stomach as you drank it. The stress from university and the complicated relationship with Ruth, your roommate, were really starting to get you. Add your unresolved feelings for Peter to the mix and you really do have a strong enough pressure to make you explode like a time bomb. So, you wanted to take some pressure off by drinking and dancing. No one knew you here anyway so it was relatively easy to just do whatever you wanted. 
Five shots of vodka were already in your system by the first hour. The dance floor was yours to take. A red plastic cup in your hand while you were swaying to the rhythm of the song playing, boys were coming from left and right to dance together. And you did dance with them, probably even made out with one or two as well. It continued for what felt like forever, until 2 am rolled around and you started feeling tired and wasted. And the alcohol in your blood was about to hit you in the worst way possible and make you overthink everything that was going on around you. At that point you were sat on a couch in the trashed living room and some dude was talking to you. His hand was on your knee. You were too preoccupied by your own thoughts to even listen to whatever he had to say.
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Peter hid behind his apartment building on campus, looking around to make sure no one would see him as he took off the spider-man costume. Ever since he went back to no one knowing his identity, he had to sneak around. He couldn't risk any of his roommates seeing him accidentally so he took the costume off outside after patrol, shoved it in his backpack and walked in. If anyone was ever awake and asked where he was, he would say either the library or doing lab work with you. He really did use you as an excuse a lot to his roommates, which gave them all kinds of wrong ideas. He didn't share a bedroom with anyone, which made his life so much easier, but there was a whole other bedroom with two boys in it in his apartment. 
No one was awake when he walked in, throwing his bag on the floor next to his bed. He felt shattered. The whole studying and spider-man business was draining his batteries like never before. Peter lay down on the bed, too tired to even get out of his jeans. He was rapidly drifting into sleep when his phone started ringing. He groaned in annoyance, looking at the screen only to see it were from you. Peter quickly picked it up, any feeling of tiredness leaving his body when he heard you crying on the other side of the phone. 
"Hey, hey, what happened? Are you hurt? Where are you?" he asked, panicked. 
"Ruth locked me out again." you cried on the phone "She left her key in, she was with her boyfriend and they were probably doing the deed and locked themselves and fell asleep."
You babbled really fast, he was trying to understand what you were saying but it was muffled by soft sobs. And you didn't sound sober either. 
"Peter, you fix all of my lab mistakes, please fix this."
He wasn’t sure what to do, especially since he didn’t know where you lived exactly. There weren’t many opinions in this situation, he could either find you and kick the door down so you could get in your place or he could take you in his room and let you sleep there. 
“Can you tell me where you are?” 
“In front of my dorm?”
“I don’t know where that is, genius”
You continued sobbing at his words, which made him feel even worse. You were very vulnerable and probably scared and he was acting poorly. 
“Okay, okay, sorry, I didn't mean that. Tell me where your dorm is and I’ll come fix it, okay?”
“It’s the one next to the library” 
He hopped out of his bed, rushing towards the building. 
When he got there he saw you sitting on the steps, looking down at your feet. 
"Hey" he said, standing in front of you, his hands in his pockets as he watched you slowly look up to him. Your eyes were red from all the crying and your cheeks were still wet from the tears. Peter sat down next to you with a sigh, the second he did that he could tell you had been drinking. The smell of vodka and cigarettes were all over your clothes. 
"Hi" you muttered back after a while, not really sure what to say or do at this point. 
"So what happened?" he whispered to you, bumping his shoulder into yours
"I got locked out, again" you whispered back, looking at him. He was smiling, a warm, comforting smile that made you feel so incredibly guilty that you called him. 
It made you realize what time it actually was, and that you probably woke him up. It was the middle of the night, and you woke up the closest thing you had to a friend here to help you. You ruined his sleep so he could save you from something you could have probably figured out on your own if you weren’t drunk. 
"Come on" he said, getting up and reaching out his hand to help you up as well. ''Let's get you out of here" 
You took his hand, the tears were welling up in your eyes again as you looked at him. He seemed so tired, yet he came rushing to your rescue. 
He walked in his room, trying to be as quiet as possible. 
"Wow you have a double bed??" you said as you looked around his room.
"Oh, yeah" he said, blushing when he saw the state of it. He didn't really think about making the bed before he left and the bedding looked like scrambled eggs with all the pillows and blankets everywhere. Peter didn’t want to look messing in front of you but it was too late for that.
"Lucky duck" 
Peter was kind enough to take out some clothes for you to sleep in while you showered. It was a spare pair of pajama pants and an old star wars t-shirt. He looked away while you got dressed and helped you into bed after that. 
"I can't thank you enough for this."
"Oh, you can, you can do my calculus homework."
The both of you laughed after that. He grabbed a pillow and a blanket, with the intention of sleeping on the couch. 
"Where are you going?"
"To sleep?"
"Not here?"
"Well, no-.... I-.... Don't want to invade...."
"I feel bad enough about it as it is, please come sleep in your bed, it's big enough" you whined.
Peter stood at the door. He really didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable, or crush you while he slept but at that point he was so shattered that the bed seemed like the best thing that could happen to him. You got up and pulled him towards the bed, grabbing the pillow and blanket with your other hand and throwing them on.
Peter was asleep the second his head hit the pillow, and you followed a minute or two later. It didn't feel as weird to sleep in the same bed as the two of you had anticipated. Maybe the alcohol helped. You were pretty sure that it was, in fact, the alcohol that made you call him, the one that insisted on sharing the bed as well. Sober you would probably be a flustered mess just from the thought of being in Peter's bedroom alone. 
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The second Ruth knew you had somewhere to sleep over, she took advantage of it. It was happening so often that you basically had a schedule when you would sleep over at Peter's. He didn't mind one bit because it was a reason to spend time with you. Plus, you did all your work for classes together, even in classes you or him weren't taking. So by the middle of the semester, you two were practically platonically dating. 
And it made you feel the worst and the best type of ways at the same time. You absolutely loved spending time with him and your feelings were only getting deeper and deeper with each day. Somehow, you still felt like you were taking away the college experience from him. He declined every party opportunity his roommates suggested, he rarely spoke to other girls and if he went out with friends from other classes, he would always make you tag along with them. Everyone thought that if you were not dating, then you were definitely hooking up, no matter how many times you denied it. Truth being told, it was actually kind of weird that you weren't doing either of those. And it got even weirder when someone else started expressing an interest in Peter.
Surprisingly enough, even to yourself, you actually liked going to parties. The alcohol helped you loosen up and talk and since Peter actually had other friends, now you knew some people here and there. You would always find someone to chat with at a party and you learned that socializing wasn't at all as scary as it seemed before. 
Tonight you found yourself at a random party in some basement of the dorm on the other side of campus. You knew that you'd be home late so the arrangements of staying over at Peter's were already made. As you were speaking to someone from your beginner-friendly biology class, a girl approached you. She was tall, way taller than you, had long dark hair and an amazing body. She grabbed your arm and said your name in a questioning tone. You nodded slightly taken aback from the interaction. 
"Can I borrow you for a second?" she asked, turning to the other person in an apologetic smile. 
"Sure."
She pulled you a bit away, still holding your arm right above the elbow. The whole thing was making you tense for some reason. 
"I'm sorry that I asked like this." she said, letting your arm go. "Actually, we've met before, I take calculus with Peter Parker, he brought you over at one of our group study sessions."
"Oh. Right." you did remember her now, but she looked slightly different with heavy makeup on. She definitely looked like one of the it girls on campus and you got the impression that she actually was. 
"So I wanted to ask if you and Peter were a thing?"
Once again you were stunned by a question from her. You looked around for some reason, she was making you feel uneasy. 
"Um, no, we're not."
"Great!" she said with a bright smile. "Do you think he'd be into me? He has this nerdy sex appeal, I actually really want to get with him."
You were blinking in disbelief towards her. This whole thing was really not making you feel well about your situation. She was gorgeous and she wanted to fuck your crush, it was going to end badly for you. You felt something like a ball in your throat that you knew even the gin couldn't wash down. 
"Well, good luck with that." you said, patted her shoulder and walked away before you started crying in front of her.
The whole situation really put you in a bad mood. There was nothing particularly wrong with it, but it managed to burst the bubble you were so peacefully living in. It got you wondering if Peter had his eyes on someone, if he was sleeping around with different girls, if he was going on dates. You kept imagining it, and drinking to try to stop, but nothing seemed to help. You couldn't spend every waking second with him to know, plus he never talked about girls with you. You didn't know who he was texting, or if he were going out with someone and not telling you. You were sure he wasn't because no girlfriend would ever feel okay with some random girl sleeping over as much as you did. Then again, he could be hooking up with someone, you were only sleeping over two or three times a week. 
You were so preoccupied by your worries that you almost didn't pick up your phone when Peter called. He said he finished whatever work he had to do and was going to come to the party and pick you up. It made you even more anxious. 
He walked through the door 15 minutes after the phone call. The whole thing was a sensory overload for him, the music was way too loud, the colors were too flashy, people were everywhere. He was constantly on edge because people were walking a little too close and his reflexes were being triggered. He hated parties. He hated the idea of you liking them even more. With the amount of time the two of you were spending together in the last few months, he grew very attached, he even developed a little crush of his own, but he was too terrified to admit that. Given his background and his secret, he wasn't too sure he wanted to put you through what MJ had gone through. He felt like it would be unfair to lie to you at the same time, it's not something you could hide from the person you're dating. 
People greeted him here and there, giving him brofists and handshakes. Peter really felt like a real frat boy, but he hated the experience. He froze in his tracks when he saw a girl that looked just like you making out with some dude. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears, his chest tightened and it felt like someone set his lungs on fire. You were wearing black skinny jeans and a black top, hair was tied in a bun and your tongue was in someone's mouth. Was that why you sounded so weird on the phone? Was that why you waited so long to pick up? Peter was too stunned to even move so he just stood there in shock for a few seconds. He felt a hand on his shoulder, which made him snap out of it, turning his head. He met your eyes when he looked down, giving you a confused look. His head turned back to the other you that was still exchanging saliva with a guy, then back to the actual you. He finally started breathing again. Your outfit was actually nothing like the girl's, you had a long-sleeved light blue dress on that had a v-cut. It made you look really desirable and the way the color mixed so well with the lighting in the room, you looked like you walked straight out of Peter's dreams. He was practically trying to take pictures of you with his eyes for later. 
"What?" you asked as you noticed his stare, looking at your dress for accidental spills or any signs of why he was looking at you like that. 
"Nothing, actually." he said, taking the cup you were holding and finishing whatever was in it. He didn't really care what was in, alcohol had little to no effect on him but he liked to pretend. 
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You expected to go home shortly after Peter's arrival, but things didn't play out that way. The girl that talked to you about him earlier tonight saw the two of you and came over to chat. After 15 minutes of them talking and you awkwardly standing there, holding an empty cup in your hand, you were feeling more annoyed than ever. And pretty drunk too. You were already in a bad mood because of her, and when Peter suggested walking her to her dorm you just felt like crying. Your feet were killing you because of the heels you were wearing and you made sure to inform him but he seemed to have forgotten about that. 
And now, all three of you were walking around campus to get her safely to her room. You were giving them a side eye the whole time while she tried to scoot over closer to him. And when she said she was cold she could offer his flannel, you rolled your eyes so hard you got scared they'd get stuck and not come back. Unfortunately, they did come back and you had to witness him putting his shirt over her shoulders. Once at her dorm, she even had the audacity to kiss his cheek before walking in. It made him blush, and you, you were really about to throw up at that point. It felt like a very weird game of chess, and she had checked you in it. 
"Are you okay?" Peter asked when he saw how you looked. Gorgeous, he thought, but kind of pale and like you would collapse any second. 
"No" you said, your eyes meeting his. You could see the lipstick stain on his skin from the other girl and now you really did feel like throwing up. You were only 3 steps away from him and he made them so fast you felt like he teleported. 
"No, no, Peter, step away" you told him, your hand covering your mouth while you rushed to the nearest trash can and actually threw up. He rushed after you, holding your hair as you did. 
"You didn't look THAT drunk."  he said, patting your back while you were coughing. 
"This is so embarrassing" you cried softly, as if this night wasn't humiliating enough. 
"There, there, I hope you got it all out because I am not changing my sheets for the second time today." 
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"I'm thinking about switching my field of studies." you said, looking at Peter. 
He took his glasses, looking at you in disbelief. He was sat at his desk, trying to solve a math problem while you were lying on his bed, playing on your phone. 
"Chemistry doesn't do it for you anymore?" he asked mockingly.
"No, I just hate spending so much time with you." you replied in the same tone, sticking your tongue out at him. 
It had been a week since the whole party thing. You didn't throw up at his place, but you did have the worst hangover of your life. Peter helped you through it, but didn't pass up an opportunity to make fun of you.
"Then why are you here? I'm sure there's a party somewhere on campus."
"Shut upppp" you groaned, throwing a pillow at him. He caught it mid air and put it on the back of his chair before turning to finish his work. 
It felt like it was too early to sleep but you didn't have anything better to do since Peter was so busy with math. You turned on your side, facing the wall, since you liked sleeping on the side next to the wall, and closed your eyes. You didn't know how long it had been but you were definitely asleep when you got woken up by a knock on the door. You looked up with confusion, half asleep when Peter gave you an apologetic smile and got up from his chair to check who it was. 
He assumed it was one of his roommates that either lost or forgot his key, but he was surprised to open the door to his calculous classmate. 
"Hey, Pete." She said "May I come in?"
"Sure-" he said, letting her in
The girl walked over to the couch and sat down. 
"Remember last week when you gave me this shirt?" 
"I do." he said, only now noticing what she was wearing. It was his flannel, with a belt around her waist.
"Well, I came to return it." she said, unbuttoning it and taking it off. She got up, only in her underwear and walked towards him, handing him the shirt.
Peter was so flustered that he had to stare at his feet the whole time. 
"I think you got the wrong idea here-" he started, squeezing the flannel in his hand.
"About what?" she asked, squatting down in front of him so he could see her, and, well, you know...
Just as he was about to move, the door of his bedroom flew open. You stood there, wearing his shirt as your pajamas, double taking on what you were seeing. You didn't think there would be anything serious happening, but the chatter was disturbing your sleeping attempts and you wanted to check what was going on. But now you were just frozen in your spot, staring at a half-naked girl that was on her knees in front of Peter. Both of their heads turned towards you, staring in the same amount of disbelief. It felt like your worst nightmares had turned into reality. Neither of you knew what to do or what to say and you just stood there in silence, the tension so heavy it could suffocate someone. 
"It's not what it looks like." Peter managed to say, holding eye contact with you. 
''I'm so sorry, I didn't know-'' she started, getting up from the floor. 
"I think I'll pretend I dreamt that and go back to sleep." you said, closing the door before anyone could do or say anything else. 
"Peter, I didn't know, she told me you two weren't a thing last week."
He handed her the shirt, not even bothering to look at her. 
"We're not. You can keep this, go home."
She walked to the door, stopping at it to look at his back. 
"I'm really sorry, if I can do anything, tell me." 
"Goodnight."
He knocked gently on the door before walking in. He saw you tucked in the bed, hugging one of the pillows. You weren't really sure what to feel right now and you were trying your best not to cry. It wasn't like the things between you had changed and you had no right to be upset over his personal affairs. Peter sat on the bed next to you, placing a hand on your shoulder. 
"I know you're not sleeping, can we talk about this?"
"Talk about what?"
"What happened back there."
"There is nothing to talk about."
"I don't want you to get the wrong idea."
You sat up, still hugging the pillow. You pressed the back against the wall, looking directly into his eyes.
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why don't you want me to get the wrong idea? Whatever that is supposed to mean."
He looked at his lap, unsure of what to say next. 
"Because I'm not that kind of guy."
"Peter, it's none of my business what you do for fun."
"For fun? You think I do this for fun?"
"You're not doing math for fun, that's for sure."
"Are you always a bitch or is it a defense mechanism?"
"You were the one who wanted me to ''not get the wrong idea'' and suddenly I turned into a bitch?"
"Okay, I overstepped on that one. Nothing happened there, I haven't talked to her or seen her since we left the party together and you threw up."
"Okay, for some reason I believe that, but why should it be concerning me?"
"Stop pretending."
"Excuse me?"
He didn't say anything after that, just pulled your arm so you could get closer to him and kissed you. It happened so fast you couldn't really process it. Once the shock was over, you kissed him back. You probably looked like a teen movie kissing scene, you on your knees and arms while he was sitting, one arm for support and the other one cupping your face as you kissed. 
"I should have done this way sooner." he said after you parted.
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1d1195 · 8 months
Text
My Friend's Toyota I
🎶 here she is! Based on the song of the same name, by Asiris 💕 I wanted to write this before spring arrived. It's just a few parts (I'm thinking 4 right now) only because the first part got so long 🤭
~8k words
Warnings: college!Harry but otherwise none really. Just wanted to write a cute romantic story. Maybe the tiniest bit of angst (but maybe not in this part just yet). This part is a little ramble-y but I promise it'll come together quick.
But this... angel he had bumped into...
She was going to star in all his fantasies now.
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Can’t believe September’s already over / Looked for stars and I found a supernova / praying to God that I can hold her close / ‘Cause I know she’s worried ‘bout the snow / She said “Darling, should I bring a coat?”
Harry thought he was more excited to go to university than anyone had ever been. “For drinking right?” his friends from school asked with a laugh. They chatted about it all the time during the summer before they all left their hometown in favor of the new chapter of their lives. Harry liked drinking, sure. It was fun but he enjoyed hanging out with his friends more. At least when they were in university they wouldn’t be drinking illegally anymore.
But Harry was a bit of a hopeless romantic.
He believed university was the surefire way to meet the love of his life. The person who would knock him off his feet, make his heart grow three sizes too big for his chest, and simply just... feel like he was right where he was supposed to be.
The first semester of university came and went.
Harry didn’t meet the love of his life.
He had Mitch. His roommate and one of his best friends from home. But Mitch was in love with their friend Sarah and unfortunately, he didn’t feel the same way about Mitch as Sarah felt about him. But that was okay. He still had lots of time to find the person that would make his stomach flutter.
But spring semester came and went too.
Harry tried to find her. He went on dates with several women he met in classes and at parties. He heard the whispers and rumors about him. It made him a little sad that some of the women he went out with never corrected the rumors. His longest relationships were no more than a month, but Harry couldn’t help it that he didn’t feel the spark he was looking for and ended things before they really got going.
It was supposed to be all-encompassing. Make him breathless. Knock him to his knees. Maybe he was being ridiculous. At the age of almost twenty he was being unrealistic to want something like that. He was young. There was plenty of time for love.
But was it so bad that he wanted it now?
His dorm room with Mitch was a suite and they each had their own rooms. They decorated the main room with the help of Sarah to make it homey (and also stopped them before they used empty vodka bottles as décor). Their dorm was one of the “party” dorms, but they rarely hosted. Harry and Mitch wanted their place to be a safe place. It rarely saw more than ten people—and that was only when he and Mitch were pre-gaming with other friends to go to a party off campus. Sometimes Harry brought his friends back if they had too much to drink. It made him feel better knowing they were in a safe place. Sarah even brought back a girl that was too drunk to make any good decisions of her own accord. Harry minded over her with worry because the poor thing was all but sobbing as she threw up most of the night and whined about how sad she was.
Harry actually dated her for about a month after—some kind of savior complex that he should have known doomed their relationship from the start.
So, he kept waiting to find the love of his life. But he couldn’t help but feel discouraged as he complained to his mum and Gemma over the summer that he didn’t find her that first year.
“Honey bunny, it’s too early to think like that,” Anne smirked. “You’re so young.”
He shrugged. “I guess. M’jus’... Mitch has Sarah,” he reminded them.
“I know, but...” Gemma smiled sadly at him. “You’re not Mitch. It’ll happen when it’s supposed to happen.”
Well Harry didn’t meet her the following year either. Twenty came and went. He continued hearing rumors about his body count. The only ones ready to defend him ever was Mitch and Sarah but he simply didn’t care. The girls he met at parties, bars, in class, they all continued to flirt with him and when Harry felt the hope of a spark, he chose to pursue it—not because of the rumors, not because he felt like he had to in order to find the love of his life, simply because he was young and enjoying his life.
But September of his third year.
Oh.
*
Harry was appalled that as a third-year student, any of his major professors deigned to have an eight-AM class. It felt like death as he walked with the throng of people headed to the correct buildings when the sun was barely high in the sky. His eyes felt droopy, and he was certain he yawned the entire walk from dorm room to classroom.
His backpack was slung over his shoulders. He shouldn’t have gone out last night. He wasn’t hungover, but he was just so tired. The chance of meeting the love of his life could have been at that party. That wasn’t an opportunity he was willing to miss.
“I told you,” Mitch muttered to him liking eight-AMs more than the average college student. Get it out of the way. He stuck his foot out causing Mitch to stumble a bit and he smirked with a low chuckle. “Idiot,” Mitch grumbled.
Harry didn’t know what he wanted to do with his degree yet. Another component of divine intervention he was hoping would appear in front of him. Love and career. He hoped the universe would help him figure both out sooner rather than later.
Mitch veered off to his own building and Harry counted down the minutes until he could trek back to his dorm room. Harry was yawning—again—and shook his head trying to perk himself up as he made it to the building where his classroom resided on his schedule.
Harry chose a seat in the back of the room. Put his head on the desk and tried not to think about how his bed might be his real soulmate.
*
Harry was much more awake now that his professor had re-sparked his interest in microeconomics. All his classes were econ-based this year and he was honestly super excited to look at different facets of his major and maybe that was divine intervention. He had four required economic electives: sports, law, history, and statistics. Additionally, he would be taking a math class that was a pre-requisite to the class he needed for next semester. He tried not to think about it too much.
With a pep in his step, he no longer felt like going back to his dorm and sleeping as he told Mitch he would be doing instead of joining him for breakfast. He wanted to go to his next class or the bookstore. He wanted to geek out over the intro lecture he just heard to someone that would care and wouldn’t brush off his nerdiness. What he really wanted was someone to kiss at the end of the day and tell him all about their classes and ask what he wanted to do for dinner—whether it was dining hall food or a date in town.
“Hi Harry,” someone called as he fantasized about his little dream life. He didn’t even see who it was, so he turned to catch a glimpse.
“Hi—” he started to call politely. If it was someone he knew, he didn’t want to be rude. As he turned, he must have shifted into the path of someone else’s walk to class. He bumped into someone with about half of his body. He knocked her phone out of her hand. Also made her stumble off the sidewalk a bit. “Oh, sorry, love,” he said bending for her phone before she could. The water bottle she had tucked in her bag also fell to the ground. “Are you alright?” He was hopeful he didn’t hurt her, but who knows, she could have tweaked her ankle on the edge of the walk and Harry would have felt horrendous for the whole rest of the day.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” her voice was a bit rushed. “I just transferred here this semester, and I’m all turned around and I’m going to be late—”
Harry glanced up at her having gathered her belongings from the dewy grass and finally caught her gaze. She stopped speaking when Harry looked at her. He swore his heart stopped. They were off the sidewalk, now. People were walking quickly to and from their classes. Harry could feel the gaze of people who knew him as he walked by. Trying to figure out who the girl was he was talking to.
Harry knew he hadn’t found the love of his life yet due to lack of connection. They liked Harry well enough, and he honestly was fortunate to have had a few girlfriends who were kind, intelligent, and pretty. Those he had dated the past two years simply didn’t scratch that itch for the fantasy he had: asking about his day, telling him about hers, and what did they want to do for dinner.
But this... angel he had bumped into...
She was going to star in all his fantasies now.
They hadn’t spoken in thirty seconds while Harry dreamed of happily ever after with her. Finally, he cleared his throat. “Where are y’headed?” He asked quietly.
She shook her head rapidly and pulled her phone from his hands. Harry tried to memorize everything about this moment. The concentrated expression on her face while she scanned her phone screen. “Umm... Livingston 210,” she sighed. “Am I going the complete wrong way?” She asked nervously. “God this is so embarrassing. I spent all day yesterday walking around trying to map out my paths and I had to park in a different lot, and I am the worst with maps and directions,” she rambled.
“No, no,” Harry shook his head. “S’this way. Let me walk you,” he offered. “You’re fine,” he promised glancing at his own watch. “You’ll... you’ll be early,” he reassured her.
She blew out a relieved breath. “Really? Don’t you have a class to get to?” She asked. “I don’t want to put you out—”
He shook his head quickly. “No, not... not at all, love,” he murmured. “M’happy t’do it. Got a break before m’next class.”
Her face took on this gorgeous smile that Harry wasn’t sure he would ever be able to forget. The relief was palpable. It seemed almost excessive, like he was a doctor and told her that she wasn’t ill and not that her class was only about a three-minute walk. But Harry adored that smile. The way her eyes lit up along with the curve of her lips. “Thank you, so so much. I’m so nervous and know absolutely no one—except my roommate. But she doesn’t have class until noon. Plus, my transfer credits went in late last week so the schedule I had planned is all different than the one I made in June. I really almost considered just leaving and transferring back—”
He chuckled at her little ramble. He liked it a lot. Way more than he probably should have for having met her only ninety seconds prior. He wondered if she always did that. The need to find out was nearly unbearable. How could he prolong the conversation? How could he get her number in the next two minutes it took her to walk to her class? “C’mon,” he tilted his head toward the direction he had come from.
Was he being ridiculous? Maybe.
But this was what he wanted. The way his heart stopped. He couldn’t ignore that. Was he holding his breath? Was she feeling the same warm tension that was covering his entire body with the need to look at her? This was it. She hadto be it. The love of his life. The first day of third year. His heart felt... whole.
“Oh good, this is familiar,” she sighed with relief. Chuckling, Harry held the building door open for her to pass through. “Do you like candy?” She asked as she entered.
Blinking curiously, Harry wondered if she had some conversation in her head that he wasn’t privy to that resulted in such a question. “M’sorry?”
“Candy?”
“Uh, yeah. Of course,” he smiled at her curiously.
“Okay, I’ll get you candy as a thank you for walking me, then,” she promised with an assured nod of her head.
Harry was floored by her kindness to a stranger. It made him feel so overwhelmed that he ignored how ridiculous it all seemed for him to act like this. So that meant she wanted to see him again. He chuckled. “Y’don’t have t’do that, love. S’not out of m’way,” he reminded her.
“I know... but you don’t know me, and you look important.”
“Look important?” He repeated dumbly and gestured to the stairwell for her to ascend. He followed beside her hoping he didn’t look as creepy as he felt feeling so overwhelmed with how he already felt about her.
“I don’t know, everyone was staring at you while we walked over,” she shrugged.
He smirked. But he was surprised he missed that. Usually, he noticed when people called out to him.  “Everyone?”
She nodded. “I think a few people even did a double take,” she explained. “So, you must be important.”
He rolled his eyes with another little laugh from his lips. “Uh...I don’t think m’important,” he admitted. They stood a few feet away from the door labeled 210. “S’really no trouble. I jus’ left m’eight AM from here,” he promised. “Was jus’ going t’get breakfast. M’happy t’help.”
“Well, thank you. I really appreciate it. I promise I’ll get you candy,” she said glancing at her watch and then the classroom door. “I like to get a good seat for the lecture. I’ll... see you around...?” She waited for him to fill in the missing information.
“Harry,” he said wiping his hand on his leg before holding it out for her to take. The first time he would touch who he was certain was the love of his life.
“Harry,” she repeated, placing her hand in his while introducing herself as well. “I’ll see you around.”
His heart was aching with something that had to be a cross between infatuation and undeniable love. Her hand felt so nice in his and it was just a handshake. Imagining their fingers twined together made him ache with want. “Wait,” he said right as her hand touched the doorknob. “Where’s y’next class?” He asked. She pulled her phone from her pocket and opened her schedule. “Uh... Sawyer,” she said reading off her phone. Harry’s heart leapt. “312.”
He felt tingles all through his body. From fingertip to his stomach, to the top of his head to the bottom of his feet. “Yeah?” He asked rhetorically. The question was more for the universe; it’s way of telling Harry she was here. “I’ll walk you,” he promised. “We’re in the same class.”
She turned her face briefly from him—maybe an effort to hide the blush that was covering her cheeks and making Harry fall even harder for her. “Yeah?” She wondered.
He nodded. “I’ll meet y’at the front of the building when class gets out, yeah?”
She smiled. “Okay, thanks, Harry,” she sighed with relief heading through the doorway. “Enjoy your break,” she called over her shoulder.
Harry floated back down the steps. Honestly, he wanted to wait outside her classroom, but he just met her, and he wanted—no needed—this to work. Wanted it to work more than anything. The smile plastered on his face had his cheeks hurting but he couldn’t stop. He nearly sprinted to the closest dining hall where he told Mitch he would meet him for breakfast.
“Sorry, m’late. I jus’ met the woman m’going t’marry,” his voice was all airy, falling into a seat beside Mitch with a dreamy look on his face.
“Whoa,” Mitch chuckled. “You look sick.”
“I feel sick,” he laid down onto a second chair. Backpack still on. He looked like an idiot, but he couldn’t help it. He was in love.
“Glad you met her, Harry. Finally, right? Can you act like an adult?” Mitch muttered cutting up the waffle he had on his plate. Sitting up he smiled at his friend.
“We have class together next.”
“Isn’t that your math class?” He wondered. He thought about the schedule Harry was insistent about putting on the fridge so they could find each other if needed while at home. For emergencies. But Mitch didn’t understand why the schedule needed to be on the fridge if Harry made him commit it to memory anyway.
“Yeah, so?”
“You hate math.”
“No one likes math,” he grumbled.
“Maybe she does. Maybe she’s not your soulmate.”
“Shut up,” he dropped his bag in his seat and headed to get food. Upon returning with his tray, about three other people said hello to him. One girl stopped him asking if he was coming to her party this weekend and one of the guys that he knew from his pickup soccer games asked if he was available tomorrow night for a game at the rec field. “If she likes math then... jus’ mean she completes me. Still m’soulmate,” he shrugged.
“You got an answer for everything,” Mitch laughed.
*
Harry found her sitting on the barrier wall to the mini garden outside the building. One of her legs stretched along the length of the cement ledge and the other dangled off the side. With the need to get her to class on time, Harry didn’t have time to ogle her at all. But now, as he approached her, he noted she was wearing a pair of jeans and a pair of trainers. Obviously, her worry about being late to class must have meant she considered sprinting if it got late enough. Her T-shirt was this light orange-pink color. Like she was modeling a sunset. She had a book propped on her thigh and she leaned over reading, like she was simultaneously doing yoga while reading.
“Hey,” he called. Her head perked up and she smiled, putting a bookmark in between the pages and swinging her leg over to say hi.
“Hi!” She chirped excitedly. “I was afraid I missed you when I ran back inside.”
Back inside? He frowned. “Did y’class end early?”
“Yeah... almost a half hour ago,” she shrugged hopping off the ledge. “Syllabus and all. Doesn’t happen that often to me—I’m majoring in accounting and finance, so all my classes just jump right into the lectures and lessons. But this is a sociology class that my other school didn’t offer but I have to take here to graduate,” she explained with an eyeroll. “They were insistent.”
“M’sorry y’had to wait,” he frowned.
“Don’t be sorry,” she smiled. “I got to read a bit and—oh!” She twisted her backpack around her body and into the zip pocket. She retrieved whatever item she was looking for and held it out for him to take. “For walking me,” her voice was so sweet.
Harry felt his jaw fall open just a bit as she placed the Twix bar in his hand. “Twix is my favorite, but I got Starbursts too if that’s more your vibe. Reese’s if you like peanut butter. I wanted a variety just in case and it won’t go to waste regardless—”
“Twix is m’favorite, too,” he said turning the bar over in his hands. He looked up at her as if she really was placed right in his path. Fate. Out of nowhere. Like a star exploding out in the universe and dropping this angel in its spot.
She smiled. “Excellent,” she said. “Where’s Sawyer, then?” She asked while zipping her bag again and heading toward the walkway when he walked her to the building earlier. “I want a good seat,” she reminded him. Since she got him his favorite candy bar—and simply because she existed and was without a doubt going to be his favorite, period—he wanted to make sure she got the seat she wanted.
He wanted to make sure she got whatever she wanted.
*
Was it normal to want to hold someone’s hand like this? Harry’s immediate thought was no. It wasn’t normal. Wanting to hold hands with someone the way he was craving to hold her hand had to be the most abnormal thing in existence. Every Tuesday and Thursday for the next three weeks, he waited outside Livingston, watching her descend the front staircase to the main floor. They chatted the entire ten-minute walk to Sawyer where they shared a math class. She insisted on sitting closer to the front than Harry would ever consider but he was immediately enamored with how sweet she was and there was no way he could let someone else sit beside her.
Tuesdays and Thursdays were slowly becoming his favorite days of the week. They were his weekend even with a packed schedule on the two days. Talking to her was everything he had been longing for the last two years of school.
On Sunday, he slept until almost ten-thirty. He was lying in bed while scrolling through his array of social media and other correspondences. He heard the shower running, so either Sarah or Mitch must have been well after a night of drinking.
Three weeks. After three weeks of pining and walking her to and from class, he got an email on a Sunday.
The subject line read: Be-Twix you and me I’m glad we’re friends. He threw himself out of his bed and paced the main room trying to figure out if it was Mitch or Sarah in the shower. He knocked. “Sarah!”
“Sorry, Harry. She’s sleeping,” Mitch called.
He opened the door anyway. “She emailed me.”
“How 2002 of her,” he snorted.
“You’re useless,” Harry grumbled closing the door shut. He truly considered barging into Mitch’s room and waking Sarah for a girl’s opinion but after doing the very same and seeing way more than he was supposed to of his two friends, he opted for figuring it out himself. He vaguely wondered if there was a way to open an email faster. He must have read it a thousand times and it was only four sentences long.
Hi Harry!
I was wondering if you would want to study for our exam together? I like having someone to study with, but if that’s not your vibe I understand :) Let me know either way! This is my number if you would prefer texting.
Harry thought there were no prettier ten numbers than the ones that formed her phone number. He was immediately ready to text her but luckily had the wherewithal of checking the time stamp of the email to see if he was looking desperate but struggling to care. Fortunately, the email was from a little after seven-thirty.
He could have chatted with her for three hours longer if he hadn’t slept so late.
Hi, it’s Harry 😊
Hi! Glad my email didn’t scare you off. My roommate said that my Twix pun was horrendous.
It’s adorable. Thank you for emailing. I’d love to study. I work until five... I can meet you somewhere?
Do you like coffee?
I love coffee 😊
Do you think it will be cold around five? I’m still getting used to the weather around here. I want to bring a coat.
Harry made a mental note to pack an extra sweatshirt in case she got too cold. Can’t hurt to bring one. You never know what the weather will do around here.
*
Forty minutes a week.
Forty blissful, perfect minutes in the month of September had been spent chatting with the stranger that bumped into her on the first day of the fall semester. The sun was warm despite the breeze chilling her skin. It wasn’t nearly enough time but she somehow managed to fall incredibly hard for him anyway.
It was a bit ridiculous.
Her roommate—and only friend—was also a transfer student. However, Allie was much more outgoing than she was. That wasn’t to say she didn’t have fun; it was just different than how Allie enjoyed herself. Allie made friends everywhere she went. Their off-campus but university-owned apartment was always in flux of visitors from her classes, her club tennis team, or just someone she met while eating lunch in the dining hall between classes.
Allie was a good judge of character though, so she never worried about someone of bad rapport traipsing through their place. Also, Allie was always sure to keep everyone away from her room, of course.
But Allie had no problem flopping on her bed around ten in the morning and nosily glancing over her shoulder. She had left her email open anxiously waiting for a reply from the most handsome guy she had ever had the pleasure of meeting. “Be-Twix?! Sweetie, that’s atrocious,” she rolled her eyes. She groaned in response.
“I... I don’t know,” her face felt hot with shame. She really liked Harry. “It seemed like a good idea at the time... maybe that’s why he’s not answering me,” she frowned.
“Maybe he just sleeps like a normal college student and doesn’t wake up at the ass-crack of dawn,” she said knowingly patting her knee reassuringly.
“Have you seen the leaves?” She whispered almost in awe. “I went for a walk to get a bagel and—”
“I’ve seen them,” Allie smiled with a shake of her head at her silly friend. The adoration she had for little things was admirable, sweet, and just... if Harry Styles broke her heart, she would break his face. “I lived here my whole life, remember?”
But she didn’t live here her whole life. So, she was in awe—her first true fall since she was a toddler that she didn’t even remember. There were pictures of her jumping into a pile of leaves with her mom that her dad had just painstakingly raked. The south didn’t have pretty leaves like this in the fall. Palm leaves didn’t change color other than wilting brown when it was too hot. She intended to spend every minute looking at the beautiful hues of orange, red, and yellow so as not to miss the pretty season she hadn’t gotten to enjoy for most of her life.
After another agonizing thirty minutes of waiting for him to respond (and breathing with sweet relief that he did want to see her later) she told Harry that she was worried about it being cold later in the evening. She had grown up closer to the Tropic of Cancer which was now roughly 15 degrees south of her current latitude. She hated the heat; it made her skin feel dirty and oily with sweat all summer long. Her hair was too thick, her skin naturally too warm. Just thinking about her thighs sticking to her leather car seat in July was horrific.
But her parents had grown up and met here on this pretty autumn-picturesque campus. Somewhere not quite freezing (at least not yet, so she had been told) but not quite suffocating with heat like home. They left here when she was two to situate themselves in Hell’s sauna room. After taking the general requirement classes at a state school, she wanted to transfer up north to the university where her parents fell in love. Call her a hopeless romantic, but if she hadn’t found the love of her life amongst the bathing suit, half-clad guys on the beach during the last two spring breaks, then he probably wasn’t in the south. Instead, she hoped she might find him around the ski slopes.
She hadn’t anticipated finding Harry before her first class started.
Forty minutes.
That was how much time Harry generously gave her outside their shared class combined on Tuesday and Thursday each week.
She wanted more. Greedy with want and didn’t know how to do it without tying it to school. Part of her worried because what if he just pitied her and now didn’t know how to get away from her? They had class together; he couldn’t be rude. Even if he didn’t like her the way she was already falling for him, it was very obvious that Harry was a good person.
“Just be careful,” Allie warned lightly. “Harry has a bit of a reputation I hear.”
She frowned and shrugged. She knew what Allie meant. People around her weren’t exactly subtle and while she listened to music in the dining hall while she ate, or studied in the library, or even just read her book. Those around her whispered. They had seen the pair of them walking to class. Apparently, Harry never looked like that before. The whispers included Harry having plenty of girlfriends. Sometimes two or even three at a time. That just seemed ridiculous, and she felt so sad others talked about him behind his back. There were even quiet bets about how long she would last in the list of Styles’ conquests.
So, she understood that Allie was just trying to look out for her. “Well... I like him. He doesn’t have a reputation around me,” she shrugged. Allie frowned for a moment. She was so sweet.
“Just be careful with your heart,” Allie looked at her with a bit of worry in her eye. But her smile was encouraging. “It’s too good for university guys.”
She had only known Allie about three months longer than she had known Harry. They both moved in at the start of the summer, working off campus and getting to know one another as well as the area (not that it helped her directionally illiterate mind). Allie was lovely and all the things she wanted in a college-best-friend that she never really got from commuting to the local college when she lived down south. “I think you would like him.”
“I can like him and still want someone better for you,” she shrugged leaning in the doorway. She didn’t want to taint the image of perfect Harry. But the stories she heard weren’t easy to ignore. She had seen him at parties since her best friend met him on her way to her sociology class. It was hard to miss him. It was like he was the star of every party.
He drank with his friends and girls obsessed over him. To her friend’s nearly naïve point of view, however, Allie hadn’t seen Harry flirt back. He was helpful and kind to those that drank too much; guiding them outside and gently pulling a girl’s hair back for when she threw up in the shrubs. It was endearing in a lot of ways. But she would still kill him if the rumors of a string of girls was true. If her new best friend was just another notch in his belt, Harry was dead. “You are so sweet to believe in the good in everyone. I just don’t want you to be heartbroken if he isn’t as lovely as you think.”
She smirked looking at the emojis and rapid influx of messages Harry was sending her trying to coordinate timing and picking her up, so she didn’t have to walk. “I won’t,” she promised. But she didn’t say that she thought he was better.
*
Harry was fifteen minutes late. He blamed the table he was waiting on before he left. They were overbearing and wanted their meal comped—that much was obvious. Looking for the smallest hiccups to rebuke him. Harry begged his manager to seat them in another section. Having waited on them before, but no dice. His heart was in his throat wishing he had time to go home and change but he couldn’t. If he was a moment later, he was sure he was ruining everything.
Unaware of Harry’s worry, she waited patiently on the bench outside the apartment building the university had taken as more dorm suites. She continued reading her book trying not to think about how maybe Harry had better things to do than study for a math class on a Sunday. Especially after work. But he had texted her he was running late, and he was on his way.
She was glad she decided on a coat, it wasn’t freezing, but her thick skin ill-suited for hot weather was already thawing and feeling the chill of the early October weather. She spent an embarrassingly long time sorting through her athleisure wear trying to decide. Something suitable for studying at a coffee shop that wasn’t overstated but not quite sweatpants.
Right when she thought about calling Harry, he appeared in front of the bench. Parking and getting out of his car quickly and hurrying to the passenger side. “I am so sorry,” he said hurriedly dragging a hand through his curls. She admired the motion; enjoying how mussing them didn’t matter much and they fell right back into place. She cleared her throat and shook herself out of her own staring at him.
“For what?”
“M’so late, love. S’rude. M’sorry,” he repeated.
“Oh...it’s...it’s really okay. I was already out here—”
“S’cold,” he frowned eyeing her sweatshirt and the coat at her side.
“I’m okay!” She promised. “Is everything alright?” She asked and stepped toward him putting her hand on his forearm. He thought he might explode at the feeling of her skin on his. It was more intimate than their handshake, and she got the feeling she wanted to twine their fingers together again.
Harry seemed to breathe with a sigh of relief, and he looked at her with this stunned expression. She couldn’t figure out why. “Yeah,” he nodded. “Jus’ felt bad being late.”
“Oh,” she blinked. “That’s okay. I wasn’t in a rush or anything—”
“No, love,” he shook his head. “M’sorry because I wanted t’see you so bad,” he sighed. He ran his hand through his hair again making her heart take off at a speed that had to be unsafe for her health. Almost immediately she felt light-headed. He wanted to see her. He just told her that. There was no hiding it. She could feel that emotion thick in his voice.
“Oh,” she repeated, completely stunned and confused. “Really?” She asked in complete shock.
“Yes, very, very much,” he sighed dreamily.
Her cheeks warmed hotly under his gaze. The pair of them stood there. Staring at one another as if they were statues destined to look at one another for all eternity, frozen in time to capture a moment like theirs. The October air was rapidly cooling, but she couldn’t feel anything but heat. Like she had stepped out of the airport terminal back in the south except this heat was not suffocating. It was so welcoming.
For a few moments they just stood there, her hand touching his forearm, gazing at one another. Part of her thought it would be nice to be a statue on the street. At least if Harry was beside her. Eventually, he shook his head ever so slightly and smirked. “So...coffee?”
She cleared her throat, smiling brightly. “Please.”
*
Just one week later, she was chatting with a friend from her sociology class. The moment he saw Harry, he knew Harry was there waiting for her, just as he had been since they met a month earlier. Harry recognized him from attending many parties that his frat hosted at one of the houses someone had off campus. His eyes seemed a bit surprised to see Harry waiting at the bottom of the steps, doing a double take at him waiting for the girl he was walking with down the steps.
“Hey Harry,” the guy said quietly.
“Hi!” She chirped gleefully. Her excited smile felt like too much on her face, but she had no way of knowing. She also didn’t notice the turmoil the guy felt seeing the competition between himself and Harry. (If she did know, she would flat out tell him there was no competition—other than school, Allie, and work, her mind was all about Harry.)
“Hi,” he said politely with a smile and turned toward the person he actually cared about talking to. “Y’ready for math, love?” He asked gently.
“Always,” she started for the main door. “See you around!” she called sweetly over her shoulder.
*
On Saturday, Allie asked if she wanted to go to a party with her. She was more than happy to stay in and read her book. But she teased her. “Harry might be there,” she winked knowingly.
As much as she didn’t pay any attention to the rumors about Harry, it was hard to fully ignore them the way she wanted to. It wasn’t that she distrusted Harry. No, if anything, she believed in him more than anyone else. But it did sound like Harry had a different party persona. She was not a party person. Honestly, she wanted him to have fun they way he wanted to. Going to a party just because he was there...
“That’s alright, I think—”
“Oh, come on!” She smiled sweetly. “I’ll help you get all dolled up and we’ll just have a couple drinks, and we can leave if you hate it. But if Harry is as smitten as you say he is, I bet he won’t let you leave,” she giggled.
Her face warmed at her friend’s assumption and she tried to picture a scenario in which someone as attractive as Harry would worry about little ole her like that. “Isn’t it cold out?”
“So wear another sweater!” Allie rolled her eyes.
“That’s not very college party of me.”
“Well, I would suggest an alcohol blanket, but I feel like getting you drunk before you even see Harry would be bad.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’ll make me look pretty?” She asked quietly at her friend in the doorway.
“Prettier,” Allie nodded assuredly.
“Alright,” she sighed. “Let’s go to a party.”
*
Allie’s arm was looped through hers. It was freezing out. But honestly it felt nice. She was just a bit shivery. “I thought you said I could wear another sweater.”
“Sweetie, hiding your assets at a party would be criminal.”
She rolled her eyes with a smirk. They entered the door, dodging the guy standing at the door to keep people in and out very quickly. “Hey Allie,” he said.
She waved in response and headed right inside. She thought maybe it was a good thing Allie told her to skip the sweater. The heat inside the house was nearly as warm and humid as the airport terminal. The air was thick with the sour smell of alcohol, weed, and sweat. “I don’t know how people want to hook up with anybody around here. I can’t think of very many places that are less of an aphrodisiac.”
Allie smirked and pushed the pair of them through a throng of bodies toward the kitchen. She grabbed two red cups from the sleeve of them off the counter and asked the makeshift bartender—surely some poor freshmen pledge—to pour them drinks. Her gut felt a little off about the gesture. “I don’t know, Al,” she whispered softly.
“I’ve had them here before,” Allie promised reassuringly. She still wasn’t thrilled with the idea as she took the cup from her friend.
“Hey Allie!” Someone called. Allie turned, looking over her shoulder as she called back over the pounding music. Meanwhile she looked at the liquid sloshing along with the ice. She thought maybe she should have taken her chances with the jungle juice—no one would be stupid enough to touch that, even if it would end with her throwing it all back up at the end of the night.
The pair of them circled around the house, briefly stopping to watch the end of a rousing game of beer pong. The winning person slammed his beer back, dripping along the sides of his mouth triumphantly which made her smile. Allie rolled her eyes and tugged her out back. A bon fire was in the middle of the yard. Another sober freshman pledge, undoubtedly in charge of standing guard. The music was still loud but way less aggressive outside. There were other large groups of people outside as well chattering and drinking away. Allie worked quick; left her alone by the fire—which she was grateful for since it was warm. When Allie returned, she was already sipping her second drink, holding a third, and dropping her empty cup in the trash bin right near the house. Oof, her head was going to kill tomorrow.
“Harry’s here,” Allie whispered to her as she got close to her again. There was a twinge in her knees, like she might fall at the mere thought of him. It took all her self-restraint to not whip around to catch a glimpse of him. She wasn’t playing hard to get, but this was very much not her scene. She didn’t want to intrude on whatever fun he was having. “You should go say hi,” Allie nudged her.
She smirked, wanting to take a sip of her drink but still feeling hesitant so she just put the cup to her lips, like she was pretending to sip it. “Uh...maybe later. I don’t want to interrupt,” she responded directly in Allie’s ear. The good news was she managed to peek over her shoulder to see him standing a little ways away from the fire. It was too dark to make out any specific features or defining muscles but just the way he stood was hot. She felt insane for thinking such a thing, but it was impossible not to. He was so cute. He had one hand in his front pocket, a drink in the other hand, and just a plaid flannel layered over another plaid flannel. His eyes and smile were lost in the dark, but she could picture it. The light evergreen color that was simply her new favorite color along with the pinkest most adorable lips curling across his face and making dimples in his cheeks that would make the Grand Canyon jealous of their depth.
“I think he would probably die if you interrupted,” she snickered.
Briefly, she entertained the idea. She could ask how Harry was doing on his homework, but that wasn’t the best party talk in the world (even if she did want to know). But she was still a little nervous, especially outside class, their walk, and even their study not-quite date to chat with him about anything. A party was more than likely his element. She could see why. Girls were surrounding him ogling very much the same things that she probably ogled on her way to math class. He was easy to talk to, sweet, and of course very handsome.
She shook her head. “Do they have s’mores?” She asked suddenly.
Allie spit her drink back into her cup and laughed. “Jesus Christ,” Allie rolled her eyes. “No; college-students don’t have s’mores at a party.”
She frowned. “I feel like this party would be a lot better if it did,” she grumbled.
Allie wrapped her arm over her shoulder. “Don’t ever change, please,” she kissed her cheek. She laughed lightly.
“If we had a party with a fire, I promise there would be s’mores,” she was very decisive. “It seems sinful to not have them.”
“Hey, love.”
She felt her whole body stiffen and somehow soften at the same time. They both turned to his voice and now she could see in the firelight, that the red colors of his flannel contrasted so sharply with his eyes. The green seemed to amplify—even in the dark. “Hi, Harry,” she smiled sweetly.
“Didn’t know y’would be here.”
“Yeah...uh... this is my best friend and roommate Allie,” she gestured to the girl beside her. “She invited me,” she explained.
“Hi, Harry,” Allie held her hand out. “Heard lots about you. And seen you around a lot,” she said knowingly.
“Hi, Allie,” he said sweetly shaking her hand politely. “Thanks for bringing her,” he grinned winking at her flirtatiously. “Can I steal her from you?” he asked. “If s’alright with you,” he turned back to her, looking into her eyes so deeply she swore he was reading her mind. Not that there were any other thoughts than Harry, Harry, Harry.
“Listen Harry,” Allie said squaring her shoulders.
“Oh my God, Al,” she shoved her back a bit. “Don’t.”
Harry took a step away and looked back at Allie nervously. “This is my best friend,” Allie said with the third drink doing most of the talking.
“Allie!” She hissed.
“I love her so much,” tipsy-Allie was very loving and adoring. A bit flighty too. If she didn’t have a rush of alcohol spinning her blood quickly through her, she might have been a little less aggressive.
“I see,” Harry smiled. “I will take really good care of her Allie. I promise. Y’have nothing t’worry ‘bout,” he shoved a hand back in his pocket. He looked at her shyly, knowing that Harry was also talking directly to her and not just her tipsy best friend. “I should have asked though,” he said with a smile. “D’you...want t’hang out a bit?” He asked.
She smiled and nodded. “Yes, please.”
“How polite,” Allie snickered. Her smile faded rapidly as she glared back at Harry. If she wasn’t so focused on him, she might have missed the way he gulped nervously. “Don’t break her heart, Harry,” she pointed accusingly at him.
“Allie, enough!” She pressed a hand over her face.
“Don’t leave without me, either. I’ll be with my friends,” she said and flitted away as if there was nothing abnormal about her behavior.
“I’m so sorry about her,” she whispered still with a hand over her face. Harry chuckled and shook his head.
“No, s’okay. S’good she cares ‘bout you so much,” he nodded. “I agree completely,” he assured her. “M’really glad t’see you. I was so surprised and distracted...I wasn’t thinking clearly. I should have asked first t’steal y’away...” he glanced at her full cup. “Don’t like your drink?” He asked.
“Um...no, well. Kind of. I’m a little wary of accepting it from someone I don’t know.”
Harry didn’t try to talk her out of how she felt which made her heart flutter more. “S’a good point...d’you want t’walk to the bar down the road?” He asked.
“I’d have to leave Allie,” she smirked. “Not sure I want to put that on someone else.”
“Hold on,” he said and rushed off to the house. It was only a couple minutes, if that. But he reappeared with a can in his hand. “I pulled it out of the fridge when the kid was turned,” he smirked.
She giggled. “My hero,” she laughed and sipped it without fear.
“So... d’you want t’go...find some place quieter t’talk?”
She glanced at the house. “Is there somewhere to talk?” She asked.
“Yeah... m’friend Niall and his friends are hosting. He’s got a keypad lock on his door, and I know the code t’his bedroom.”
“You always try to get girls into your friend’s room?” She asked quirking an eyebrow at him while sipping her drink. He chuckled and shook his head.
“No, s’nothing like that, love. Jus’ want some privacy.”
“Well, that’s fine by me, even by the fire, it’s chilly out here.”
“You’re cold? Here,” he pulled off the top flannel and draped it on her shoulders then put a hand on her lower back to guide her back toward the house. She could feel the stares of others on them as they meandered back. “S’not even winter yet. S’gonna be tough on your southern blood,” he smiled.
She smiled. “My parents are from here. I think there’s some northerner in me yet. Just got to get it out of hibernation.”
Harry chuckled. “You’ll still need a coat, love,” he promised.
If Harry was going to offer his own clothing to her, she wasn’t sure she’d want to bring her own coat at all.
--
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halfrican-heat · 1 year
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Upstanding Gentleman (Ony)
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Onyankopon was raised in a strict Ghanian household. He was pretty strait-laced...until he met you, of course. Still, Ony has many tricks up his sleeve that never fail to surprise you.
A/N: Yes, I'm high. Hello. So, this is the second Ony post I've had lingering in the back of my mind. It's in head cannon format but I think this could be something. Enjoy!
Warning(s): Explicit Sexual Content; Depictions of smoking marijuana; Penetrative Sex (p in v), Oral Sex (M receiving), Sex in childhood home, Black reader in mind, N-Word used; AAVE/Dialogue with Dialect
Pairing: Sober!Onyankopon x Stoner!Reader
Inspired by: Lauryn Hill and my bf :)
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Sober!Ony was raised by a single mother who kept him in line. No drugs, no alcohol and he definitely had a curfew.
Straight A student and graduated the top of his class in high school
Spent majority of his childhood playing video games and taking apart old computers his mother would bring home from her teaching job.
Played basketball and practiced frequently with his friends
Loved taking photos and drawing
Only smoked weed once when he was seventeen and felt guilty about it for a week before he told his mom. (She smacked his head but wasn't that mad)
Never had a thing for drinking. His mom let him have some wine during his graduation dinner. His uncle, later that evening, gave him some liquor. Ony wasn't a fan.
Sober!Ony who went to college in a different state-- hours away from his mother.
He chose to go to a school pretty far away from home to study photography. He loved his mom but he felt like he needed a firm separation from his home life and college life.
That's where he met you. This sweet little thing from a town he had never heard of. So cute...
...and yet you smelled like trouble. Ony's suspicions were confirmed when you offered him a blunt in your car one night. Y'all had been talking for a minute at that point but you never gave off stoner vibes.
Ony declined but didn't mind hanging out as long as you rolled the windows down.
Turns out, you were a huge stoner. Bongs, smoking pieces, a stash larger than some of the ones he had seen back home. You weren't a plug, not really, you just really loved weed. You were super smart, too. Ony had known people like you from back home-- motivated stoners who smoked frequently but it didn't impede them getting shit done. You were like that and Ony really liked that about you.
Ony wasn't sure how to proceed at first but...one thing was sure: You had a hold on Onyankopon that he just couldn't deny.
Sober!Ony who, four years into your relationship, isn't super sober anymore.
"Mama, let me get one of them fruity drinks out the fridge." "They got alcohol in 'em Ony," You call from the kitchen. "I ain't ask you all that. They taste alright-- I feel like a classy nigga drinking them." "Okay, Classy Nigga," You say, bringing him one. "Mister Classy Nigga to you," He says, with a wide grin. "Pinkies out, baby."
Sober!Ony who branched out after meeting you but didn't partake as frequently as you did.
"Let me get a hit, baby." "Nigga, you don't smoke!" Ony kisses his teeth, side-eyeing you. "Then do that shit where you kiss me and blow the smoke in my mouth." You laugh loudly, throwing your head back at his nerve. "Okay, baby," You say, sparking up. Afterwards "Shit, where my inhaler at?"
Sober!Ony who made a great impression on your parents. Perhaps too great.
Your dad loves him, speaking highly of him every time your boyfriend comes up in conversation. "That Ony is a fine, upstanding gentleman," Your dad alway says. Little does he know... "What's that, ma?" His voice is husky in your ear as he thrusts into you roughly. His hand is over your mouth as your childhood mattress squeaks under your weight. Ony has you bent over, his pace punishing as he fucks you from behind. Tears streak your face as you helplessly claw at your sheets "Better be quiet," Ony drawls. "Don't want your folks to hear us, right? Or they gonna know what a slut you are for this upstanding gentleman."
Sober!Ony who loves the way you give head while high.
After many extensive and deep discussions about consent, Ony finally lets you give him head. At first, he was chilling. But then... "Shit, baby! Fuck," He groans, his head falling back. "Slow down, ma." You got his cum on your cheek from the first time he came but you don't care. You don't let up, taking his length down your throat. You suck the entire way down, slurping as you pull back to swirl your tongue around his leaking tip. Your tongue runs along the vein underneath his shaft before taking him back in your mouth, hollowing you cheeks as you slurp him down. "Fuck," He hisses, throwing his arm over his face. You had that man's toes curling and all.
Sober!Ony who loves how sexy you are at any given time of any given day but especially loves when you're feeling yourself while off the za.
Now the skies could fall...not even if my boss should call... Your hips sway seductively to the music as you take a pull from the blunt, in your own world. Lauryn Hill blasts from the radio as your lights change colors in a slow fade. Ony stands at the door of your shared bedroom, watching you sing and dance. You turn slowly, finally noticing him. You wordlessly hold out a hand to him with your body still moving to the music. See I don't need the alcohol...your love make me feel 10 feet tall... He takes your hand, pulling your body close to his. His hands trail your body, finding your ass as the two of you grind on one another. Yeah, Ony is gonna take his time with you tonight.
Sober!Ony who loves you as much as you love him despite your differences.
"Papa, you seen my bong?" "Judie?" "No, the other one." "She in the kitchen cabinet, baby."
"Ma, you seen my screwdriver?" "The fuck you doing drinking those?" "Bae...the tool. My tool." "Oh, it's on the counter by the microwave." a moment later "Onyankopon, what the fuck did you do to my damn radio!"
Overall, Sober!Ony who has changed a lot since the two of you got together. As long as you don't give him any cause for concern, he's happy to let you do as you please (and partake when he feels like it). You level each other up in ways no one expected. You're his lady and Ony doesn't want any one else but you.
"C'mere, my lil pothead," He says, cuddling up to you in bed. "Shut up, nigga." "Watch your mouth. Now lemme rub my legs against yours..."
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A/N: I had fun with this. Asks are open!
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elaemae · 7 months
Text
The premium version of human is here to wreck house, mfs.
[Twst x ObeyMe!AFAB!reader]
CHP. 7
Again, I thank y'all for the reblogs, likes and comments guys, it really helps me :)
CW: Blue pronouns or address for MC every time they get mistaken for a guy. Also, I'm a potty mouth so MC is too.
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Inhale..
Exhale....
Inhale......
Exhale.......
Inhale.........
Ex-fucking-hale.......
You're about to have a stroke right now.
You should've just went back to the goddamn infirmary instead of checking in on these obnoxious, bitch-less, probably father-less, motherfuckers.
It's just cleaning windows!! How the hell can you mess up like this?! Why the fuck did the cafeteria chandelier get involved??
GODDAMNIT!! WHY IS YUU INVOLVED AS WELL?! AHHHH—!
*One eternity of screaming like a banshee later*
After sending those damn kids and cat away to get some sort of magical stone in some godforsaken mine, you wrangled with the headmaster for at least two hours to prevent him from writing up the expulsion papers of Yuu and that Blue-haired kid who was mostly innocent about the ordeal.
(Meanwhile, encouraging him to kick that Ace kid and the damn cat off the school. You ain't about to let audacity run free rn, mostly because you feel yourself start genuinely tweaking as you almost got possessed by the urge to sucker punch someone's soul out of their body.)
[Satan perked up, there it was again.
That distinctive spark of wrath that he can feel through your pact with him is both concerning and comforting.
On one hand, the anger he feels means that you're alive. And seeing that what he's feeling through the pact is mostly annoyance, then that must mean that nothing marginally bad or traumatizing had happened to you yet.
You're actually more pissed off in a 'someone-had-the-audacity-to-eat-my-snacks' kind of way more than anything else, meaning that you're safe for now.
But on the other hand, he doesn't know how long that temporary safety will last.
There's also the fact this is the fourth time he'd felt that spark of 'I-wanna-punt-someone-into-the-fuckin-sun' kind of anger from you, which is worrying because it hasn't even been 48 hours since you were kidnapped by some mf.
He shook his head, calling upon a subordinate (read: Devoted fan) to collect more and more books to learn what type of teleportation and sleeping magic was used in your kidnapping.
With the massive search party spanning all three realms that they'd called upon, they will find you sooner or later.
And once they do...
Well... You'll need to get used to being with someone at all hours of the day.]
*Passive-aggresively reminding Crowley that he can't kick out an innocent kid for something they didn't directly do as they had no way of stopping the events that transpired.*
["You don't want the word to get out that you let an innocent teen roam around in a foreign world with absolutely nothing to their name and nobody to protect them, right?"
"That is true, but I still can't just let this go unpunis–"
"Especially when it's the school's faulty equipment that took them so far away from all of their loved ones and belongings, right?"]
Needless to say, Yuu ended up being "fired" in the end, quite an unfortunate result because they will need to freeload off of you until the end of your stay in this world. (Poor them, they got fired before they knew that they had a job in the first place.)
Oh well, it's better than being kicked out from practically their only way back home right now...
Hays... That cruel crow..
Anygays, it's time to snoop around and hopefully make some connections to the residents of this school.
This is a well-known college, right? So there should be influential people here somewhere...
Hehe.. It's time you bring out your gaslight, gatekeep, gold-digging skills so that you can girlboss your way into stability inside this foreign world.
• • • • • •
Suddenly, more than a dozen individuals felt a strong shiver run up their spines.
Haha... Well that's ominous!
• • • • • •
Ortho deadpanned at his brother.
It seems that almost burning down their dorm room last night isn't enough to deter him from making his [Mr. L/n x reader] fanfiction complete with mandatory fan art for every single chapter.
Haaa....
But at least his brother isn't 'fanboying' about another fictional character again...
Hm... Now that he thinks about it..
Maybe his brother will be more inclined to make friends if it's Mr. L/n!
And thus begins Ortho's journey of being an unknowing wingman as he tries to get his introverted brother to make friends.
• • • • • •
You narrowed your eyes as you looked at the small gift on top of your temporary bed in the infirmary.
Dats suspicious....
Dats weird......
You turn your necklace into a staff and start poking the box, trying to see if it'll suddenly turn into a horrific eldritch monster and jump you. (Won't be the first time that happened.)
• • • • •
"It is done, ××× ×× ××××××" (This is too easy to guess😑)
• • • • •
Diavolo sighed for the tenth time that hour, lamenting how trying to focus on his paperwork is a really hard task when MC gets thrown into the situation.
'Maybe a small break will help clear my head?'
He might as well just go out for a walk in the garden to get some fresh... air...
Oh? what is this?
His eyes scanned the dark envelope he'd seen wedged under the 'To burn' stack of paperwork in his desk.
This envelope wasn't here yesterday...
After confirming that the piece of paper wasn't cursed or charmed, he opened it with apprehension.
...!
This..!
• • • • •
Barbatos appeared in the office, tense as he'd heard his lord call out his name with haste.
Reading the letter shoved in front of his face by the serious Diavolo, Barbatos made a mental note to get the dungeon chambers ready.
They've got themselves a lead.
← Pr.6 | Chapter List | Chp. 1.1 →
Just tell me if y'all wanna get added in the permanent taglist, even if I already tagged y'all here.
That's just so I'll know if you wanna get tagged in all the upcoming chapters of this fanfic.
@caprinaesprout
@iameliseposts
@leviathans-tail-scales
@twst-om-lover
@a-traveling-void-human
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Reblog or I'll take your ankles😈 (Pls like and reblog, it really gives me motivation🥺)
Also, the next chap is the start of Arc 1: Satan but short.
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thehusbandoden · 1 year
Text
You Flinch During an Argument -Shinso Hitoshi
A/n: meow <3
Oh wait I think this is actually my first finished thing for Shinso. Am I doing him right?? Idk T^T
General info:
Genre: angst to fluff/comfort // Wc: 1,594 // second person
Warnings!: arguing, accidentally breaking a promise, flinching, and a little bit of crying.
Dabi | Hawks | Todoroki Shoto | Bakugo Katsuki | Midoriya Izuku | Shigaraki Tomura | Aizawa Shota | Amajiki Tamaki | Kirishima Eijiro | Shinso Hitoshi
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Horror ate away at Shinso's conscience as he looked down at you in shock.
You, his beloved y/n who stuck with him through these difficult seven months of a new relationship. His one and only supporter, his first love, his best friend, and his partner.
He had promised you that he would never use his quirk on you unless it was related to training.
He promised, and he belived it too. He knew that he would never take control of your goregous mind.
And so why? Why did he let himself be so weak. So.. so out of control?
It was all a blur. He hadn't even realized that he activated his quirk that he despised so much. One second you were shouting at one another, and the next you were completely still, eyes holding no sign of their usual spark. That spark that was always present, the spark that he grew to adore.
He continued to yell though, not yet noticing that you weren't yourself.
"Why can't you tell that I did nothing! She grabbed my arm and I ignored her! I walked away without sparing her a glance- y/n she means nothing! You're the only one that I could ever possibly be interested in! So why are you being so stubborn!? Just- just stop!"
At his command you simply dropped the arms that were folded against your chest, going completely still.
That was when he realized that you weren't in your right mind- that it seemed like you were being controlled.
The realization broke his heart as he deactivated his quirk, causing your eyes to suddenly pop back to life.
Your face was contorted in confusion for a few moments before you slowly looked up at him in shock.
"Y-y/n I-I can explain." Shinso's voice was wobbly as he looked down at you, eyes wide in unbelieve, voice full of emotion. You've never seen him this shaken before, and to be honest it scared you. What.. happened?
"D-did you just control me? Hitoshi you better answer truthfully."
"I-I did but- please it was an accident- I- I swear-"
"Hitoshi.. you promised me you wouldn't. What happened?" You asked, tears in your eyes as your hands started to shake.
"I-I know baby I know but please it was an accident- I- I noticed when you stopped when I told you to-"
"How long did you control me Hitoshi?"
"Less then a minute- please y/n I didn't mean to!"
"But yet you still did. I- I can't look at you right now. I.. need some time."
"Y-y-y/n.." Shinso whispered, tears pooling at the edge of his eyes.
"Y/n... y/n please- I- I-"
"I-I'm just going to go.. I'll.. see you some other time."
"Y/n wait!"
"What is it.. Shinso?"
"I-I am so, so sorry. I'll understand if you're going to- to leave me."
"No, Sh- Hitoshi. I'm not going to leave you. I Just need some time to sort this out, okay? I'll text you when I get to my dorm, but other than that please don't contact me."
"O-okay.. I-I love you.."
"I- I love you too.."
~~
Three weeks later and you were still dreading talking to Shinso. You've texted him every few days to let him know that you were doing okay and you simply needed more time. He was understanding each time, and that calmed you down quite a bit.
You knew that you wouldn't be able to leave him. You've loved the boy for years. You fell in love with himin elementary school, admiring his quick wit and braveness fending off bully after bully. You admired him, you really did.
The two of you quickly became friends, and your love for him grew each day. You eventually worked up the courage to confess in your first grade of high school. He seemed hesitant, but he accepted your brunch date. After three dates in quick session he was the one to ask for the two of you to advance, which you accepted.
Less than a month in he confessed his love and you reciprocated his feelings. Five more months into your relationship and everything seemed so perfect. That is until girls started flocking him.
It made sense, he had recently gotten into the hero course and had outstanding looks. You would've been fine with it- but he didn't seem to mind.. at all. He wouldn't tell them to back off, or even tell them he was taken. He simply.. ignored them. It made you uncomfortable and you tried to reasonable about it, but he just wouldn't listen.
After a month of this back and forth you refused to be brushed off again and it ended up being both your first argument as a couple, and will probably be the worst one in at least a year or so.
You believed him when he said that he didn't mean to activate his quirk, but it still hurt. And you couldn't shake it off. You knew that you would forgive him, and this endless silence was breaking him, but you just needed more time. But you also knew that you couldn't wait much later or Shinso would be broken for at least a few months. And so, you scheduled a meet up. In three days, you texted Shinso to meet you in your favorite park to talk. He willingly agreed, and now you simply have to collect your thoughts.
~~Three days later~~
You took a deep breath as you looked yourself over in the mirror.
You were dressed casually, plain blue jeans, a white t-shirt, and a black leather jacket.
Looking over yourself worriedly, you smiled as you remember you complaining about this exact outfit to Shinso and how he told you that you looked nice. He hugged you from behind, gazing into your eyes lovingly before complimenting everything he loved about your outfit, accompanying each sentence with a kiss to your head, temple, forehead, cheeks, and then your nose.
He gazed into your eyes, taking your hand before telling you that you were gorgeous, and that he could never dream of anyone more perfect than you.
Smiling sadly, you hurry to grab your phone and wallet before heading out of your dorm, greeting your classmates as they smiled and waved at you.
Stepping outside, you hurry to the park, wanting to get there before Shinso does. Humming, you smiled at your favorite play list you were listening to, deciding that some of your favorite music would help calm your nerves and help you think clearer.
A few minutes later you arrived at the park, smirking as you realized Shinso wasn't there yet.
Ever since you discovered the park in the beginning of your highschool year the two of you started a tradition, if you could call it that. You never discussed it, but you had always rushed to see who could get to the park first, and Shinso usually won. He hardly cared about how he looked and didn't mind losing out on sleep to see you pout so cutely.
It was actually quite endearing, though you would never admit it out loud.
Sitting on your favorite bench under a large Oak tree, you pull out your phone to text Shinso, gently teasing him for being second this time. As you were about to hit send, you jumped as you felt a cold hand embrace your cheek. Looking at the hand, you scoffed as you saw Shinso holding your cheek gently, smiling teasingly at you.
"Got you.. again." Shinso murmured, causing you to blow a strand of hair out of your face huffingly.
"Yeah yeah, whatever." You pout, causing the boy in front of you to chuckle.
"So.. you're ready to talk?" Shinso prompted, sitting across from you, now nervous and unsure.
"Yeah... Listen Hitoshi, I know you didn't mean to, and I know that you feel really bad about it."
"I do, I really, really do."
"And I know for a fact that I am not gonna leave you for something so silly. I love you, Toshi and I want to hear the apology you've been dying to tell me and forgive you."
"Y/n, my Love, I am so, so sorry. I cannot forgive myself for losing control of my quirk like that, and I promise that I will do everything in my power to never lose control again. I also want to apologize for overlooking your feelings. In my head it was enough to ignore them, but now I realize that that was selfish and wrong, and I want to talk to you, calmly about it, and find a conclusion."
"I forgive you, Toshi. And I'm sorry too. I'd really like it if we could find some middle ground.. but first, we should get some lunch and go on a date, we've harldy seen each other in three weeks after all. Oh, and I love you I really, really do."
"And I love you so much more y/n, so much that it hurts." Shinso murmured, leaning towards you after every word, finishing it off with kissing your lips sweetly.
"I don't think that's possible." You breathe, causing Shinso to chuckle.
"Oh trust me, it is." He finished, pecking your lips once more before standing up, taking your hand to take you out on the best date possible.
Because there is nothing Shinso loved more than you, and he'd continue to prove it until the day he died.
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in1-nutshell · 7 months
Note
Hey it's me again sorry if I'm overwhelming you with my multiple asks what could you do more old Predacon buddy with maybe just hanging out with the kids and stuff along with they're adopted son aka preking (I hope I'm saying his name right) Just some wholesome fluff and possibly make sure ratchet actually recharges and doesn't stay up all night working including the Optimus and the others old Predacon buddy has those sweet old Southern Grandpa vibes or you could do some old Predacon buddy interacting with Megatron during his glory days or something similar to that whatever you choose I'm not really picky also Make sure not to overwork yourself and make sure to hydrate every now and then and eat something at least healthy =]
They are back!
Caution: Grandparent vibes nearby
Hope you enjoy!
Bot Buddy the Old Predacon slice of life
SFW, Platonic, Familial, Cybertronain reader
TFP
It had been a rather busy month on base.
After the latest Decepticon mining activity, all the Autobots were on edge and running around like crazy.
Buddy mainly took care of the humans while everyone was busy on base. They swear if they didn’t have such an eye sore of an alt mode, they would pick up the kids instead of having to remind some of them to do it themselves.
Buddy lumbering around the console behind Bulkhead.
“Bulkhead? What are you still doing here?”--Buddy
“What do you mean?”--Bulkhead
“Bulkhead why isn’t Miko here? Is she sick?”--Buddy
“She at school today.”--Bulkhead
“Bulkhead its Saturday. Miko doesn’t have school.”--Buddy
“…”--Bulkhead
Bulkhead transforms quickly and drives out.
Buddy shaking their helm at Ratchet.
“Kids these days.”--Buddy
“You said it.”--Ratchet
“You count too Ratchet.”--Buddy
Ratchet raises an optic at Buddy and vents a bit.
“You may be old by these young bots but don’t forget I’m the eldest here.”--Buddy
“Yet you try to do things a young bot would. It’s not good for your joints.”--Ratchet
Buddy gentle flicks Ratchet in the back of the helm with their tail.
“My frame allows some extra movement.”--Buddy
Buddy stretches their arm.
SQUEAK!
“…”—Buddy and Ratchet
“…Buddy—”--Ratchet
“Not a word Ratchet. Not. A. Word.”--Buddy
Buddy knew that entertaining the kids with stories was only going to go so far. Especially when their guardians could stay with each of the children for long.
It was frankly getting on Buddy’s nerves.
It finally reached their limit when Movie Night came around.
The kids had gotten permission to spend the night at the base.
The original plan was to have a movie night with everyone.
Just some quality time with one another catching up on everything.
But it looked like most of them had forgotten about it.
Buddy didn’t like this. At. All.
And their spark broke a little seeing their disappointed faces.
Buddy looking down at the kids.
“Kids meet me at the exit with the gear.”--Buddy
“The gear?”--Jack
“Yes, you which one I’m talking about. Meet me over by the exit, we’ll have that Movie Night when we are done with it.”--Buddy
Once the kids came with the gear, Buddy knelt and had them climb on using their magnetic seatbelts.
These were almost light the Earth car seats but they were specially designed to be placed on Buddy via magnets.
Nothing was going to peel them away from Buddy until the end of any trip.
As soon as everyone was ready Buddy shot upwards.
Did they scare the kids a bit?
Yes, but it was worth it.
Buddy flying through the night sky.
“You seem pretty fast for an old timer.”--Miko
Buddy huffs a bit.
“This old timer still has a few tricks up their metaphoric sleeve.”--Buddy
“Buddy.”--Jack
“But you shouldn’t fly too fast, you can pull something.”--Raf
“Buddy.”--Jack
“Oh, my sweet Rafael, I’m spry for my age.”--Buddy
“Buddy!”--Jack
“Yes Jack?”--Buddy
Jack points forwards.
“Predaking!”--Jack
Buddy wasn’t too bothered by the sight of Predaking.
But they might have forgotten how the kids didn’t know the other predacon like they had.
Soon the two Predacon’s were flapping their wings circling each other.
The clouds around them slowly formed around them.
Through a series of clicks and roars the two talked.
‘Buddy.’--Predaking
‘Predaking, how are you? It’s been too long.’--Buddy
‘Fine Buddy. How are you faring with the enemy.’--Predaking
Buddy huffing.
‘They are not the enemy of mine, Predaking. I’ve told you before.’--Buddy
Predaking’s turn to huff.
‘There’s a reason you wanted to talk isn’t there?’--Buddy
‘…You know me too well.’--Predaking
‘I would be an awful ‘grandparent’, as the humans say. At least that’s how I remember the saying.’--Buddy
Predaking huffs.
‘I have been considering… leaving the Decepticons.’--Predaking
Buddy raising their optics.
‘You have?’--Buddy
‘Yes.’--Predaking
‘I can put a good word in with the Auto—’--Buddy
‘No. At least… not now…’--Predaking
Buddy nods.
‘You still need time. I understand. Just let me know, okay?’--Buddy
Predaking nods and flies the other way.
Buddy huffs a bit.
“What.”--Jack
“Was.”--Raf
“That!”--Miko
“Oh yeah I forgot you don’t understand the clicks yet.”--Buddy
“Yet?”—Raf
“I will teach you three one day.”—Buddy
“Sick.”—Miko
“What did he want?”--Jack
“He just wanted to talk, nothing more.”--Buddy
They continued their flight before it was time to go back to base.
As Buddy touched down, they could see some of the Autobots come out of the base to see what was going on.
Buddy simply walked inside with the kids still on their back.
Buddy kneeling down so the kids could get down and take the gear off.
“Where were you four?”--Arcee
“Flying around Arcee. It can get stuffy in here.”--Buddy
“You know that someone could have spotted you?”--Arcee
“I am fully aware of that Arcee. I think with one of the largest alt modes here, I’d keep that in mind.”—Buddy
“Then why—"--Arcee
Buddy stands back up to full height.
“I do believe that there was a ‘Movie Night’ that you all needed to attend.”—Buddy
Buddy stretches a bit.
POP!
SQUEAK!
PANG!
“…”—Everyone
“…I’m old, okay. Haven’t you all heard of joints popping?”--Buddy
“Yes, but not like that.”--Bulkhead
Buddy lays down near the projector.
The kids follow with their blankets and pillows.
“Beep boop bop bep? (Do you need to see Ratchet?)”--Bumblebee
“I’m fine. Now let’s watch the movie the children have chosen.”—Buddy
Team Prime give Buddy a side eye, but ultimately gives in.
The Autobots crowd around the projector to watch the movie into the late hours of the night.
Buddy looks around, just happy to have a family together.
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yuri-is-online · 2 months
Text
Pas de Deux: A Fyuuture Kid au pt. 2 (Rook x Yuu)
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Once upon a time there was a house in the woods. Three people lived inside it and they were very happy because soon there was going to be a fourth One day a man in a suit came and knocked on the door of the house, but he did not want to say hello. He was not interested in how happy the people in the house were or that that day was very important. The man was there because he had decided there should only be two people in the house, and because the world is not always kind, and not all houses are happy ones, the man in the suit got his way.
And now there was only one person in the house and he felt very alone.
notes: this will not make sense if you have not read pt.1, so please do. They/them used for Yuu, and the name Oliver is used interchangeably Yutu. This contains lengthy one shot parts, but does still have some hc bullet points. WARNING: major character death, body horror, angst with a bittersweet ending. This is part of the fyuuture kid au, more of which can be found on my masterlist here under the series section.
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"Is Oli awake yet?" The new boy, Roland, is an absolute mess and if he didn't look so pitiful you would have told Rook to dry him off outside and not in your Lounge. Rook isn't deathly serious about much, but he is about this and you can't help but feel a bit out of the loop even if it is clear that it somehow revolves around you.
"Non, I'm afraid you gave your brother quite the fright." Rook gently says, carefully massaging Roland's head to dry his hair and try to soothe the tension currently shuddering across his body. "Focus on yourself for now and let our dear Trickster take care of Monsieur Caneton." He smiles at you and you break eye contact to catch your breath, coughing to excuse yourself up the stairs to Yutu's room and away from your personal problems, content to let Grim bother the pair about cleaning up their mess.
You aren't as observant as Rook, but seeing Yutu's face had sparked a strange dissonant feeling in you that you think was triggered by his appearance. The color of his hair, the fat of his cheeks, the way his nose wrinkled when Rook had laid him in his bed (and not so subtlety flexed his biceps while you were watching) felt familiar to you. Absent his hood, he looked like you had spun DNA from yourself into yarn and knit him into being, borrowing ever so slightly from another source to sew his eyes and nose in such a way that a sideways glace would send even the strongest of beasts running. Even before those eyes fluttered open you knew what color they would be, but still you laughed at the forest green that looked up at you.
"Sleep well?" Yutu scrambles away from you, yanks the covers over his head and turns frantically around looking for his hood and mask you know are tucked away downstairs well out of reach. He is stammering, saying a random assortment articles together but failing to describe anything as you try to stick what you had planned to say. "Is it just 'Oli' or is that short for something?" Yutu pauses his searching, but he keeps the sheet between you and his face.
"... it's Oliver. But Yutu is still fine if that's easier." There are a few ways you can go about this, you think as you lean back in your chair.
"I don't really care about what's easier." Because it's true, if you did you probably would have run away from this school the second Crowley turned his back. Damn crow probably wouldn't have gone looking for you either. "I care about what will make you comfortable, since I don't think you planned on ever having this conversation with me." You reach forward slowly, making sure to pause just before you reach the sheet counting on him to intuitively know you are asking for permission. He lets it down himself, allowing you to go back to crossing your arms as you look at him. Oliver mirrors you, holding the sheet around himself taking several breaths before clearly trying to collect some thread of a thought before the damn breaks.
"I'm from the future."
"I should hope so." You hum. "Not that I would put it past him, but Rook would have some explaining to do if you weren't." He coughs and you smile.
"Well- you. You aren't intimidated by that at all? Rook I mean, not... me." He's much quieter than any child you'd expected Rook to ever contribute too, much more jumpy but that's not as disturbing as him calling his father by his first name.
"I've accepted what I feel for him for a while now." The window is much more appealing than your son's face but you force yourself to maintain eye contact. "The idea of him reciprocating is- or well was given you're here, something I thought was never going to happen."
"But he writes you letters! I-" Oliver shouts before remembering said man is downstairs and undoubtedly listening for every breath he takes. "I used to read them." Now it is your turn to be embarrassed as you cough and think about the little box you have so carefully hidden upstairs. Not carefully enough it seems, but then again this isn't just your child.
"Well he didn't sign them. And besides..." It was perhaps a bit harsh to count against Rook's statement that he felt like he was fickle and his heart easily captured. No one had really wanted to propose to the ghost bride so it was natural of him to say something like that and it wasn't like he had known you particularly well back then either. He hadn't said he would never want to get married, just that it was too early to think about and if you were being practical that was the most reasonable position to take- "Look it doesn't really matter! What does is that you're here and not for fun right? And what's up with your brother? I clearly didn't raise you in barn so what gives with him?" It's obvious you're embarrassed and deflecting, but still it works as Yutu, or Oliver you now suppose, takes a deep breath and begins to tell you a story, the ending of which, in a way, you already know. ~~~~ Roland was ten when the changes started. Papa did not come home immediately when the night fell, which was not strange. He had been old enough not to worry. It was not strange for Papa to come home injured, it was not strange for there to be blood. But the blood had been dull that time, dull and Papa hadn't said much. He had held him though, hummed a song that felt like home. No matter where they had traveled he had never heard a song so wonderful, it had a name but Papa said it wouldn't help to find it. It was a yuusong, from "beyond the rift." Roland liked it a lot even if he could only remember a few strains of the words and understood none of their meaning
"Mon poussin, are you afraid of being alone?" It was a silly question of Papa to ask. "No matter where you go, your parent and I will always watch over you. So long as you live this world will be a beautiful place. I love you, so much more than my heart can give me words to describe." It was a scary thing to say. Such a silly and scary thing to ask and say that Papa forgot about it when he woke up the next morning, he would have forgotten about Roland too if he hadn't have yelled at him for it. Papa had said nothing at all that morning actually, not even a twitch of a smile or a laugh at his protest. Roland's mind must have painted over how there was no blood anymore, there was the ink- the blot he had been training so long to avoid instead. The Hunter had allowed him to follow and that allowed him to do all of the lying he might have needed to think things were fine to himself.
And on some level Roland knew that's what he had been doing all of this time but now that he was here, wherever here was, he was being forced to think about it.
"Are you hungry or somethin?" The racoon stares up at him, angry he thinks because its paws are on its hips. "Ya keep staring off into space and it's creepy!"
"Is it?" Roland tries to blink and the racoon jumps away from him so he moves closer so as not to miss anything it says.
"Y-yeah! It is! You're really creepy! And Rook's here so that's sayin something." The racoon mutters the last bit and Roland turns to look at Rook. He's too young, there are creases missing in his brow and a cruel bend to his gaze that isn't present when he looks at him. If anything Rook is looking at him in a way he thinks he should recognize, but doesn't remember the word for anymore.
"Are you hungry, Monsieur Poussin?" Rook smiles, the word that his mind supplies now is kind but it is still not the word he wants for the way Rook looks at him. Poussin... his focus breaks and Rook calls his name gently, fear is a word he remembers and holds onto. Most humans use that word when describing things so it grounds him somewhat.
"I guess." Turning down food is a bad idea even if the new sights and smells are almost too overwhelming to want to eat. When he looks back at Rook the fear has changed, he knows this look too but the humans he met never lived long enough to explain it to him. He thinks he still knows it though, but from where he doesn't want to remember. Not if there's actually going to be food. And thankfully Oliver comes down the stairs just in time to take the attention away from him.
"Roland?" He's still confused and Roland swallows the need to hug him, but he can't stop himself from shaking. "Where- how did you get here?"
"Where is here?" The strange person next to Oliver makes a noise like letting out a breath, and he thinks the racoon screams but he has never heard one do that before so he doesn't know. "Is this where you were? I've been looking for you, and for our parent too but if I've found you then they've got to be near." Roland hasn't thought about them much, dad always got so sad when he talked about them and after he stopped talking it was hard to get answers about anything. Talking about them always made him violent so he had tried his best not to do it. Oli sways a bit, almost like he's going to collapse again but the strange person moves to support him before Roland can.
"Thank you for doing that Roland, you sound like you've been a very good big brother." Something about their voice makes him want to cry, and he has to really work to remind himself that would be a waste of water when they smile at him. "But the answer to that is a bit complicated."
So. Roland. He has no real idea that the portal he went through was going to take him to the past, he just decided to race his "dad" for it and won. It's clear from talking to him that he's not the most educated or aware of things, he knows that he is "from" the Shaftlands, that he is a mage but he's not very practiced on how to use magic and says his dad "punishes" him when he tried to learn. He says he grew up traveling Twisted Wonderland looking for his parent and baby brother, but that his father was always present with him. He has memories of lots of places in Twisted Wonderland before the apocalypse began and while his descriptions are very child like, it gives Yutu some context for things he says will be useful in formulating a plan to stop the bad future.
In Roland's mind, Rook just got sick and became unable to talk after a while. It's clear he is aware on some level of what happened, he calls the phantom dad instead of papa, and while he plays off what were very clear attempts at murder as "games" the way he instinctively flinches at Rook's touch suggests his body knows even if his mind doesn't. His time following the phantom of his father around has clearly taken its toll on his body, his skin lacks the same level of pigmentation as his brother's, like someone has turned the saturation on his melanin up in a way that's clearly unnatural.
He's unused to actual food, he cries the first time you feed him even if it is just a cup noodle. Grim instantly forgives all of his weirdness when he agrees that canned tuna is the best thing he has ever tasted, he has a new favorite henchuman now (until he realizes this means he needs to share, then he demands Roland get a new favorite food). Rook insists on being the one to cook for him, he is genuinely terrified of the future that Roland and Oliver have described and he wants more than anything for his children to know he would never do anything like they experienced of his own free will. He is a hunter of love, not a practitioner of filicide.
There is of course, the small matter of how to explain all of this to Crowley, or if you even should given his suspicious absence in every story you just heard. Rook doesn't want either of his chicks out of sight, so he firmly rejects Yutu's suggestion to entrust Roland to his friends, something you second; you don't trust a bunch of random people with such a traumatized child, let alone one that's technically yours. Yutu suggests asking Idia for advice then, something you can't say you are surprised by given his glowing description of how the guy turns out in the future but still...
"So let me see if I understand this correctly." Idia has his head in his hands, not even bothering to use his tablet from just how done he is with this conversation, even though this marks his first participation in it. "Yutu is from the 'Bad Ending' timeline and he's come back here to make sure you get together with Rook."
"No!" You cough scream as Ortho dutifully pats you on your back in encouragement. "He's here because everyone overblots! Again! Except for you apparently. And Vil but that's only because of you?" He waves a single hand in the air.
"Yeah skill issue or whatevs- look." He finally looks up from his hands, if you didn't know any better you would say he's bored but it's clear from how he actually pauses and minimizes the game he was playing that's far from the case. "If Ortho didn't back up what you were saying about your hellspawn-" you take a deep breath and remind yourself said childrens' existence relies on this moron's help "then I wouldn't believe anything you just said, but it does kind of make sense."
"It does?" Idia pulls up some stills from what you assume are the school security systems of portals similar to what Rook described the one Roland appeared out of.
"The sentient blot phantoms isn't like anything S.T.Y.X. has recorded before, but if you assume monsters can experience evolution similar to how other species do it makes sense that it could happen. Especially if some sort of curse is involved, which it sounds like there has to be. Speaking of which, hellion 1." Idia doesn't bother to look at you so he misses the way your eye twitches.
"Roland?"
"Yeah. We're going to need to run some tests on him." Idia actually looks at you this time, which improves everything but your mood.
"Aren't you supposed to ask permission first?"
"If the world is going to end in roughly twenty years then no." Idia snorts. "I just don't want his parents showing up at S.T.Y.X. again demanding to see their favorite boy." "If his description of what his life was like is real, then he was raised by a phantom. If he's a mage, then it's miracle he hasn't overblotted and he's at real risk of hurting himself if he tries to learn to use magic at this point."
"Is there anyway you can do the tests here?" You don't like the thought of Roland hurting himself, but there have already been so many changes in his life in such a short period you are afraid one more might make him overblot anyway. "Or at least let Yutu go with him, he trusts him. I just- he's really skiddish."
"I can take some samples and send them for analysis, but if he's as fucked up as I think he is then he's going to need a detox that can't be done here." So Idia has the same set of thoughts that you do, that relaxes you somewhat even if you know very little is going to convince Rook to unwind.
"I can keep an eye on him." Ortho volunteers helpfully. "It would look weird if another student got added to Ramshackle out of nowhere, but transfers to Ignihyde aren't unheard of so we could have him stay with us!" Idia, surprisingly, doesn't shoot the idea down immediately, though he notices your confusion.
"What? Kid grew up in a blot infested forest, he'd probably be more at home here since it's so dark and gloomy. And besides he's going to need to learn how to use tech anyway if he wants to survive. Sides, it'll give us an excuse to keep him away from the other dorms."
You hate to say that Idia is right about anything, but he is about this. Roland really likes Ignihyde, tells you it doesn't smell as weird as Ramshackle (Rook has yet to introduce him to Pomefiore) and the Headmage accepts Idia's explanation of him being a S.T.Y.X. project ready for field testing easily enough. You suspect it might have something to do with him covering up all the overblots but wisely hold your tongue. He still comes to visit you and Yutu, but he's very slow to warm up to you. It's not that he doesn't love you, it's just that you were ripped away from him while he was still a baby so there's some trauma screaming at him that you don't really love him, otherwise you would have been there. The first time you really hug him, he breaks down ugly crying and holds on so tightly you swear he cracks some bones.
Roland is a mage, but his magic is weak from years of never practicing. He's very frustrated by this. Idia's surprised how willing he is to participate in the tests he wants to run on him, but not complaining. Roland tells him why quickly enough anyway, he's the oldest so he should be the one protecting his little brother and his parents but he can't if he's got something wrong with him. And just like that Idia regrets asking because he's feeling things like Rook Hunt's kid is being #relatable right now instead of a demon hellspwan from an overblotted future like he's supposed to be. Whatever he'll just take revenge by teaching him how to play video games. It'll be good enrichment for him probably, help him with that vocab.
And I mean it does. Roland certainly learns some new words. It's just that now you are having to explain to Vil that you are married to Rook in the future and yes, that child who talks like an mmo world chat is yours, you promise he's going to be better once the timeline gets fixed and you will have a chance to actually raise him. Vil is surprisingly supportive, both of Roland and Yutu. He already really liked Yutu, the magic of time travel must have made him remember how fond he was of the little sapling, and he is extremely proud to know he was in Pomefiore. Roland's life is a horror beyond his comprehension so he's determined to help teach him what it means to be human. Vil sees it as a test of his character development this far, sure he has an idea of what Roland should look like and how he should act, but what's the best way to introduce these things to him?
Epel is a huge help with Roland. He doesn't understand the gamer speak but he gets the rough and tumble phrases that come out when he's frustrated. He even surprises himself with how much he agrees with Vil on what Roland should do, and how his much of his advice is taken. It's such a beautiful sight Rook cries in pride every time he thinks about it. Roland wasn't super interested until Oliver told him about Vil being the reason he knew he had an older brother. He's still not 100% sold on what Vil tells him to do but if Epel reassures him and explains it then he'll do it.
The tests that Idia does prove that Roland isn't a danger to others, but he is very sick. Extended exposure to blot in its purest from has made him extremely sensitive to it, coming to this timeline has helped improve his chances somewhat but Idia doesn't think he would have lived more than two or three more years if he had stayed in the past. His magic is more or less killing him, so Ortho and Idia double down on teaching him how to use magical technologies. Idia makes sure to tell you and Rook this won't be a problem if you manage to create a good future, and that understanding this helps but still. Hearing your son only has a few years to live, and only if he stops actively using his magic hurts. No parent wants to hear that.
If Yutu has Rook's cunning and stealth, then Roland has his brutality and outgoing nature. He's very friendly, his only problem with speaking is that he lacks the vocabulary he needs to get his point across. Since he was raised by a phantom in the wilderness for a part of his life he has next to no problem hunting and killing., especially if it means he gets to keep his family. It's one of the things that allows him to connect with the real version of his father, Rook has a similar line of thinking, especially after hearing Roland's fate and the more he gets to spend time alone with you. He'd do anything to give his friends a happy future, but for you he would do anything. It's a disease, what is that poem you spoke to him about? Something about the poison from your lips being the deadliest of them all, he'll die if he has to live in a future without your kisses. It just will not happen, he won't let beauty leave this world forever.
Rook hates knowing you had to raise a child alone, he hates thinking that Oliver thought even for a second he abandons you. He hates knowing Roland thought you abandoned him and stole his brother, that he watched him die and refused to believe it. He hates seeing Roland run away from Trey holding onto his jaw, he loves all of Yutu's friends dearly and can't wait to meet their parents in the future. He loves sitting with you and hearing all of the thoughts you were too shy to tell him when you doubted his sincerity. He loves seeing Roland's efforts to adapt to his disability, he hates the fact his son is sick in the first place. He loves watching Yutu chase Azul around and he loves how Ace and Deuce fight about who would be the better Uncle even though it's clear Grim has already won the fight.
The future is always worth fighting for, and you will always be worth crying over. Has he mentioned he loves you yet today? Even when the day is won and the memories begin to fade, the compulsion to tell you remains. Rook knows you have no magic to speak of, but there is something about you when you hold him close that makes him think that can't be true, not really.
"Why Trickster?" Vil doesn't question his choice of nicknames ever, but now is as good a time as any Rook supposes. "I would have thought you would jump to something more romantic now that they've... accepted your invitation?"
"Non non beautiful Vil." Rook carefully sets aside his beaker, making sure that his project is in a place that he can pause before elaborating. "You do not understand, trickster is the most perfect description of my true love." Vil has a look that he makes sometimes that would make lesser men cease, a certain purse to the lips and blank look to the eyes that Rook never fails to ignore. "My true love is plain to the untrained eye, in our world power is thought to be strictly magical in nature but that isn't true. Just as the Fairest Queen was known for her unrelenting effort in the face of adversity so too does Yuu face down any and all that stands before them. Their determination is breathtaking, a magic all its own."
"You do seem quite powerless before it." Vil says dryly, but his smile betrays his true thoughts. Rook is eccentric, someone others only tolerate and, if Vil is as honest as he prides himself on being, the same could probably be said of you, the magicless prefect of a magic school. Of course Rook would love you, it gives him a few ideas for a movie, assuming he manages to hold onto them once time has been set right again.
But Vil will keep that to himself, it will make a lovely wedding gift for his dear hunter. He'll make sure to get you something much more practical.
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cheriladycl01 · 6 months
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The Deeper Connection - Zhou Guanyu x ChildhoodBestfriend! Reader
Plot: You made friends with Zhou when he first came to the UK to pursue his driving career, and you were like two pee's in a pod. When he reaches F1 and life gets busy for the both of you he finds solitude in your childhood hideout.
A/N: I haven't been that active lately with finals coming up, however I'm still trying to post regularly!
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You'd grown up in Sheffield all your life, you lived in a very nice home and came from a pretty well off family. With a dad in oversea real estate and your mum as a business owner and entrepreneur in the UK you wouldn't ever have to ask for anything twice.
The trouble was that you tried out so many hobbies and none of them really tended to stick.
Ballet when you were at three, didn't work with zero hand to eye coordination.
Horse-riding when you were five, didn't work after you got bored with how slowly you were being taught to ride.
Acting school when you were seven, didn't work when you were bullied for only being there because of mummy and daddies money. This completely made you loose your passion for it.
Swimming when you were eight, which you had to stop because of a medical condition with the cold water in the winters and your body temperature not mixing well.
Space camp when you were nine, didn't work because you were bored where you already knew everything they talked to you about because it was a special interest of yours.
Pottery when you were ten, whenever something broke you got really disappointed and sad with yourself and eventually it became something you only did every now and then to avoid burnout.
Gymnastics when you were eleven, didn't work after getting bored within the first weeks and it taking up too much time.
You were 12 when you met Zhou Guanyu, he moved into a house down your road in the gated woodland community of large and wealthy farm homes and mansions.
You guys became close almost straight away, you'd spend every night in the treehouse that his dad built him when they first moved in. But he wasn't always around, some weekends you'd knock on his door and no-one but the maid would answer explaining that the family weren't around.
She'd let you into the house, where you'd wait for him in either his bedroom or out in the treehouse. Sometimes he wouldn't come back until 10pm, and you'd be curled up on his beanbag in his room, asleep and his parents would have to call yours suggesting yet another sleepover.
After 3 years of knowing him, you found out where he'd been going and why he was home schooled just like you. He would kart, but now he'd got into Italian Formula 4 and he wouldn't be home as much.
You'd cried begging him not to go, Zhou really was your only friend and even though it had only been three years of friendship you'd attached yourself to him insanely quickly.
Not that he minded of course.
Your managed to go see one race with him, it was in Monza and he'd won it all. And that weekend he asked you to be his girlfriend. You of course said yes, as a two giddy sixteen year olds and went on from there.
The distance got easier when he was in the European Formula 3 championship in 2016. You being 17 weren't actually allowed to make your own choices yet, but the minute you turned 18, 5 months after Zhou, you were following him around to each race.
At this stage taking a gap year before you were due to go to university was better for you, and Zhou. In 2018, he got the news he'd be going to Formula 2 for the 2019 and you'd been accepted to Oxford.
For that first year you made it work. You visited him at races when you had breaks from university and he would come stay with you in your small uni accommodation in the off season or when he had longer breaks into between races.
But when 2020 rolled around, and you were forced to be separated by the growth of COVID-19 your relationship fizzled out. You pushed and pushed trying to keep the sparks there but one day, Zhou phoned you explaining that he couldn't do it anymore.
You'd cried so much that day, and you'd never felt more alone. The only place you thought to go that was safe was the tree house, you could get there through the side gate and you knew Zhou's parents were in China on business only leaving the maid there.
So that's what you did, you laid there curled up in a blanket Zhou brought you, crying until it got darked and you started to scare yourself looking into the dark woods.
When you were younger and you thought you heard or saw something in the woods, Zhou would hold you close explaining to you it was just your imagination and you'd immediately feel a sense of calm wash over you.
You left the treehouse that night getting on the last train you could think off back to Oxford.
Zhou continued in F2 in 2021, but got progressively more busy when competing in a small stint of the Winter F3 Asian Championship, of course you kept up to date with him.
You loved the boy and you didn't ever think you'd stop.
When the announcement of his promotion into F1 happened you cried happy and sad tears. Happy he'd achieved his dream, but ultimately sad he was in the big leagues now and he would definitely have no time for you.
He had a phenomenal first year and you watched every single race, even getting up at absurd hours to watch him. You cheered him on all the time and would get anxious whenever you had to stop or DNF.
Silverstone with the Russell incident was the worst. You parents had to hold you tightly as you cried seeing just how bad the crash was. Seeing George run over to his flipped over car that he couldn't get out of and a red flag being called.
You ran out the house going straight to the treehouse. His parents watched as the 22 year old climbed up the old rickety ladder, bag in hand and red bloodshot eyes.
They knew you'd seen his crash and you wanted some space.
What did shock them was the fact that you consistently came back every night for a few weeks.
It was a warmer night and you still had your blanket but there wasn't a need for a hoodie when you first came out. You were just laying there on the wooden planks looking out of the little skylight in the breaking wooden roof at the stars.
"Hey" a voice says softly making you turn to the ladder.
"Zhou?!" you explain sitting up quickly looking at him. Not that you hadn't seen him on Instagram or in his post race interviews but he'd grown into his face. He was as handsome as ever.
"Mmmmm" he sighs, almost in a grunt sort of way. He comes next to you and lays down, not coming to close scared that you'll leave if he pushes to close.
"Your star is up there tonight" he says raising his hand and pointing to the brightest star between the tree line. He'd named it your star when you'd spend the first night out here.
"How's it been, travelling round the world?" you ask softly turning to look at him, laying on your side. He turns onto his as well to also look at you.
"Lonely" he whispers with a sigh, pushing some of you hair behind your ear making you hold you breath as his fingers brush along the side of you face and down to your lips before recoiling his hand back.
"But your so busy and round people all the time!" you argue confused as to why he would ever feel lonely.
"I think sometimes even though I'm surrounded by people, they aren't people that get me... you know?" he asks turning onto his back, looking up at the sky.
"I think i feel the opposite" you laugh.
"What do you mean?" he asks, his gaze not wavering from the sky.
"I feel like i have absolutely no-one around me, but everyone i do bump into can see right through me" you sigh, having struggled at work recently as a graduate and new employee, working from home.
"Seems like we both are out of our comfort zones then" he offers with a sigh.
"Mmmmm i did have my comfort zone at one point" you say, it came out pointedly which you didn't intend.
"Yeah?" he asks, looking over at you again.
"Yeah it was you. I don't think I've ever experienced a connection like I have... had with you" you sigh.
"Had, you don't feel that way anymore?" he asks with a sad frown, that makes a frown of you own appear.
"You broke up with me in one of the loneliest periods in my life, It's always just been you Zhou, I've never had anyone else and then you were just gone ... I- you broke me and took a part with you" you sniffle, not sure how else to describe the heartbreak you were feeling.
Some people had their heart broken, where it would splinter all over and someone would come along and patch it back up until it healed.
Some people had their heart broken, where it would completely shatter and all the pieces are spread out and someone has to come along and pick up all of those pieces and puzzle them back together.
Some people have their heart broken, where it again completely shatters but the culprit takes a piece of that heart with them so that if theirs a time when someone else does come around and fix it it's never fully fixed, beating but never full.
And Zhou had that piece of your heart and no-one had put back the remaining parts of your heart, you'd gradually started to do it yourself but it was proving to be a long process.
"I-" he starts but chokes on his words.
"I think, I'll always love you Zhou Guanyu..." you whisper sitting up, your hair loosely falling over your shoulder.
"I know I'll always love you. And I want to take back everything I did! I need you in my life!" he says looking over you, making you look down.
"You cant take it back Zhou..." you start before looking up seeing his teary expression. "But i think we could start again. I don't want my heart back, it's yours to take... all of it forever. Your only going to be it!" you smile, knowing this was your chance to have him back.
He was your soulmate you were sure of it.
He leans up and pulls you into a kiss.
"I promise from here on out, I'll never leave you again again!"
Taglist:
@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma @teamnovalak @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @jlb20416 @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @formula1mount @tinydeskwriter @butterfly-lover @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount @styl1shl1v
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gooondocks · 2 months
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no one's ever had me (not like you) — evan buckley.
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writing masterlist | askbox
─── summary: when buck meets his high school sweetheart at the ten-year reunion, he learns that their lives may be very different now, but the spark is still there.
─── pairing: evan buckley x gn!reader.
─── warnings & notes: fluffy fluff. no use of y/n, i'm british so probably inaccurate depiction of high school reunions. based on the song 'so high school' by taylor swift bc i heard it and couldn't stop thinking of this idea. crappy ending bc i suck at wrapping things up. enjoy!!!
─── word count: 2.1k.
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     "DO YOU THINK ANYONE'S DONE US all a favour and spiked the punch yet?"
     When the email appeared in his inbox a few months ago — an e-vite, of all things, complete with the kind of graphic design prowess he hasn't seen since the early 2000s — Buck had been pretty intent on ignoring it.
     A hundred excuses had bubbled up in the back of his mind, because honestly, the thought of heading back to his hometown to attend a high school reunion made his skin itch. Trapping himself in a sweaty gymnasium, surrounded by dozens of almost-strangers engaged in a vanity contest of 'who's the most successful?' coupled with a shitty DJ blasting 2010's greatest hits?
     It's really not what he'd call a good time.
     Even if he could've talked himself into it, sharing a ZIP code with his parents for even a day or two was more than he was willing to tolerate. He'd left Hershey in his rearview almost a decade ago, and there's not a fragment of his whole being that regrets it for even a second.
     Except.
     Except the dates lined up with one of his rare weekends off work. Except when he looked up the flights online, just to see, he'd stumbled across a deal so cheap Buck honestly thought he was hallucinating for a moment.
     Except Evan Buckley believes in signs from the universe, and when Maddie gives him that look over lunch one day, even though Buck had absolutely not mentioned the reunion to anyone, it's the final nail in the coffin for him.
     He booked the tickets. He told the team he'd be out of town for the weekend, and bought a new shirt, and now he's standing in his old high school gymnasium. He wrinkles his nose at the smell, that sweat-and-hormones stink that never really goes away, and you're sidling up to him at the refreshments table, and the speakers are blaring an old Ke$ha song he hasn't heard in years.
     For a moment, he's seventeen again. The sound of your voice slips over his skin like a cool breeze in the desert and suddenly it could be the night of junior prom, and the pair of you have sequestered yourselves in a shadowy corner, laughing at the committee's subpar attempt at an 'Under the Sea' theme.
     Buck blinks, and he isn't seventeen, but he flashes you a wide smile anyway as you help yourself to a glass of bright red punch.
     "Hi."
     He says the word so quietly, he's surprised you even hear it. But there's a sparkle in your eye as you raise the cup to your lips, and he knows you heard him.
     You always could.
     The last day Buck ever saw you, he kissed you goodbye before you piled into your dad's old truck and drove out of sight, bound for college and big dreams and a future that didn't include him. Your lips had been damp with tears. On his loneliest nights, Buck swears he can still taste the salt on his tongue.
     It's been a decade, but you still look so similar to the wide-eyed kid he fell in love with. Your hair's a little longer, perhaps; there's a scar on your chin that wasn't there before, and the dimples around your smile have deepened, but that's all. You're still you. The thought makes his chest ache a little, but it's a good pain.
     He wonders if he's changed much. He wonders what you see when you look at him.
     "I suspect it was the first thing Marty Brandt did when he got here," Buck adds, louder this time, and you laugh, and he wonders how he went ten years without hearing that sound. "I didn't think you'd be here. Didn't see your name on the RSVP list."
     You shrug. "Jem bullied me into it. Emailed my boss to get the time off and everything."
     Even as you try to seem annoyed, a trickle of fondness finds its way into your voice. When Buck follows your gaze to the dance floor, it's hard to miss your childhood best friend throwing shapes to an old Maroon 5 song.
     "You two still talk?" He doesn't mean to sound surprised, except...
     Well. Staying in touch with high school pals hadn't been a priority when he skipped town. Hard to imagine a single one of his classmates he'd want to stay in touch with. Except you.
     A grin tugs at your mouth. "Worse. We work together." You tilt your head, still smiling fondly in Jem's direction. "Tried to shake her off, but she wouldn't let me."
     He knows a little about that. "Or was it the other way around?"
     "Wouldn't you like to know, Buckley?"
     He would, actually. He watches you grimace a little at the flavour of the punch when you take another sip, an adorable twist to your mouth that he once knew so well. A decade ago, the sight of your pout could've made him do anything.
     "Tastes like half a bottle of vodka," you tell him, and you take another sip even though he knows you never liked vodka. Remembers playing truth or dare at a party in junior year, and how you threw up in the bushes afterwards.
     Buck had held back your hair and tucked you against his side afterward, letting you snuggle into the warmth of him while you slept off the worst of your hangover.
     There's a distance between you now, but it's comfortable. Buck tucks his hands into the pockets of his jeans and the pair of you migrate over to a shadowy corner of the gymnasium, away from the prying eyes of your former classmates.
     "So," Buck says, as the DJ switches to another song, "how have you been?"
     He can't help but wince half a second later. Seriously? How have you been? He's never been to a high school reunion before, but he's seen plenty of movies, and he's pretty sure he's hitting all the marks of being a fucking cliché.
     To your credit, you don't laugh at him. Cheeks flushed the prettiest shade of pink Buck has ever seen, you manage to bite back the giggle rising in your throat.
     Buck wants to sink through the floor.
     "I've been okay," you tell him, swirling your glass of punch absently. The corners of your eyes crinkle a little as you smile at him. "Life, y'know?"
     He does. He really fucking does. "Any partners? Kids, spouses, anyone I have to worry about punching me?"
     You only mentioned Jem earlier, so it doesn't seem like you brought a date, but he isn't sure he'd love it if he found his partner cosied up in a dark corner with their high school sweetheart.
     God, he hopes you didn't bring a date.
     There it is, a flash of— something, there and then gone in an instant. Buck hasn't thought about high school in years. Hasn't paid any mind to the friends he left behind. Once or twice, his thoughts have flitted to you, though. The one that got away. Where you are, if you were happy.
     When he landed in LA, when he finally settled into his place at the 118, he'd thought of you. He'd hoped you managed to find a place you belonged. A family that loved you like his did.
     He thought this would be awkward. Running into you again. Your name hadn't been on the RSVP list, and he'd been so relieved, because what if there was some uneasy tension between you? Buck isn't sure he'd have been able to cope with that.
     There aren't a lot of happy memories from his childhood. His adolescence left a lot to be desired, but— you. A bright spot in all that grey.
     An uncomfortable reunion might have ruined that. Those memories are cherished, for Buck; locked up tight in his battered heart.
     But it's not uncomfortable, or awkward, or uneasy. Ten years and ten seconds have slipped by like sand in an hourglass and he wonders if there's been a moment in the last decade where he felt this at ease.
     You sigh at his question, quiet and fond. "There was an engagement," you say after a moment, chewing on your lower lip, "and a break-up. Two years ago, now. Amicable, but..."
     "But it still feels like you lost something." Buck knows that feeling intimately. It's been a long time since Abby left him, and even though he's over her, the memory of it still stings sometimes.
     You nod. "Yeah. One minute you're going to marry someone, and then you're not. Doesn't really matter why not, in the end. Still hurt a little. Not anymore."
     "No?"
     You smile at him. "No."
     Buck isn't sure how much time passes, how long you both remain huddled in that dark corner as the world continues to move around you. The DJ keeps churning out a series of early-2000s hits that he's fairly sure is just one of those throwback Spotify playlists, and you both make jokes when the Class President gets on stage to give a cheesy speech, and he tells you all about the ill-advised escapades of his early-twenties.
     Crashing his bike, dropping out of college. He glosses over the unsavoury parts of his youth, but the way your eyes soften, he knows he isn't fooling you. He never could, not when it mattered. Stories about Peru have you in stitches, and a particularly messy tale about his time as a ranch hand makes you laugh so hard, half a glass of punch ends up your nose.
     He missed that. Making you laugh.
     Warmth unfurls in his chest when he looks at you. It's the kind of familiarity people associate with coming home, except it was dread he felt stepping off the plane, and uncomfortable memories prickled at him as he drove through the streets of his hometown.
     You? You've always been that for him. Warm. Safe. Home.
     "You've heard all about my wild twenties. What about you?" he wonders, as the pair of you drift back to the refreshments table, seeking snacks that don't taste like cardboard.
     (Buck manages to find a bowl of chips that aren't completely stale, so he'll call that a success.)
     "Oh, the usual," you shrug as you refill your glass. "Finished college, got a job and an apartment and a cat and a fiancé. Lost the fiancé, got another cat." You take a moment to flash him your lock screen, a picture of two calico cats curled up on your couch. "Think I  traded up there, huh? Anyway, got a new job and moved out West about a year ago."
     "Oh, really? Where'd you go?"
     "California, actually. I'm in the History department at Berkeley."
     He blinks at you once, twice. Something inside his chest goes zing. "I'm in LA!"
     "Well maybe I'll have to come down and play tourist for you sometime."
     There's a coy tilt to your mouth that he's seen before, and something pleasant skitters down his spine. Your cheeks turn even rosier, and Buck suspects the spiked punch is only partly responsible.
     "Maybe you will," he says.
     His number hasn't changed since he left Pennsylvania, and maybe that's another sign, too. The shitty music starts to wind down, and his old classmates start to stagger out into the parking lot, and when you kiss his cheek and promise to get in touch, he wonders if there's such a thing as second chances.
     It isn't the same. He isn't seventeen and you're different people now. This isn't making out under the bleachers at a football game or skipping class to take a ride on his motorcycle. You're adults now, all grown up with a whole host of other problems, and it isn't the same. It isn't.
     Except.
     The next day, Buck's phone buzzes right before he boards the flight to Los Angeles. The number isn't familiar, but when he opens the message, he cannot fight the grin that creeps onto his face.
     Hope you get home safe. I'd hate to have to find a new tour guide x
     It's not the same, because he isn't in high school anymore and neither are you. But as he switches his phone to flight mode and tucks it back into his pocket, a giddy feeling sweeping through his chest, he can't help thinking that maybe this could be better.
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goodluckclove · 6 months
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I've been meaning to say something. (100 follower hot take)
Hey! Thanks for stopping by. I hope you've had a nice day. Why don't you rest with me for a while? I made some chocolate chip cookies - with shortening instead of butter, so they're very soft and very chocolatey. I made way too many and they aren't my wife's favorite, so I could use some help in eating them.
You're probably a writer, right? Or maybe you think about how you could be. Browse the tags here, or on other social media platforms. Maybe you used to write stories as a kid. I bet those were fun. Teachers might've thought they were impressive, or they dissected them line by line until the words didn't make sense in your head anymore. Either way, if you're here you're probably here for a reason.
(rant alert)
I dipped a toe in online writing communities on and off. My last attempt was forty-five minutes scrolling through the writing hashtag on Youtube Shorts (so TikTok, I guess? I don't know). I didn't like it. I really didn't. The thing that sticks out the strongest in my mind is one particular video where a woman claims that every story needs a second act plot twist.
Huh? Every story? All of them? Why? Since when? Who are you? What qualifications do you have to make a statement like that?
That's the common thread that makes a lot of writing spaces very uncomfortable for me. Successful writers are really only successful in their genre and for the given moment, so they don't have that much objective authority in the craft. And yet I see a lot of people deciding the things that you can't do in writing. Or the things you have to do, and how you have to do them. It was so much of Writeblr at first glance that I almost dipped out once again. I didn't, though, and I'm glad I didn't because now I get to watch some of the next great storytellers from across the world grow and examine and forge their way forward.
No one can teach you how to write. No, that's not true. Teachers teach literacy. Handwriting. Typing maybe - do schools still teach typing? Let me try saying it in a different way - no one, not one single person on this goddamned planet, has the right to tell you how to make a story.
I was supposed to get my MFA in creative writing before my first breakdown. My uncle stayed in the program I was meant to be in, and a few years after I dropped out he graduated. Recently I had the thought to look up his thesis novella, and as I searched I found myself regretting my decision to leave school. If I stayed and got to develop my writing in an actual class, with other writers and a knowledgeable professor, how much further along would I be than where I am right now?
It was bad. His novella was terrible. It was so bad I had a small existential crisis for, like, three days. He spent so much money on years and years of professional education and came out with a truly soulless story that read as if you prompted an AI to write the next Great American Novel. So if you think you need a writing degree to be a legitimate author, it could help connections-wise, but it ultimately won't be the thing that does the work for you.
Not all advice I see online on writing is bad. I find the people who are able to capture the "I" statements of therapy and phrase advice as things that have worked for them, or things that they personally enjoy, to be fine. Some writing advice can spark inspiration.
But if someone is the type of person to boil every story down to troupes and cliches, and then immediately say that every story that uses the trait they don't like is automatically bad for everyone? I'm dropping the kindness for a second - that's trash. That's a trash take and I see far too many writers use it as a reason to stop before they begin.
I don't like whump. I say my reasons in previous posts if you go back through my blog. But you will never hear me say that any story with whump in it is bad, because I don't know that. You might prove me wrong. I am an adult human being and I have the humility to admit that I can like something I didn't expect to. I genuinely enjoy the direction of The Human Centipede (only the first one) and if you cringed just now that probably means you haven't seen it.
There are so many types of books and movies and plays and comics out there. To enjoy a specific genre is fine, to ignore the existence of everything else is a really, really, really odd thing to do. Maybe someone will hate your story because they think everything should be Neil Gaiman, and therefore have no way to understand your epistolary high-Western. You are not the wrong end of that situation just for existing.
And at there is a definite threshold on how many writing tips you can gather before they stop being useful. If you find them interesting, that's one thing. That's fine. But if the culture of creativity online has made you feel like you need to educate yourself on every possible angle before you can write a story, you are actively harming yourself.
Imagine taking the level of structure you put on yourself in that way and putting it on children playing pretend in the backyard. Oh, Susie, don't you know that it's overdone for your Kitsune have dead parents? Xyler, shouldn't you ask someone else before you decide how Spiderman would react to this? It would make no sense and they do not need it. Kids will make a whole world out of nothing and it's the most fucked thing in my heart that at some point they get access to Reddit and dipshits start insisting that's wrong.
They aren't wrong and you aren't either. Your favorite creative influencer can't tell you your story, strangers on the internet can't tell you your story, your teachers and loved ones can't tell you your story. They can influence it, but they can't write it honestly the way you can.
You do that. That's the thing you do.
Man that makes me upset. I can't tell you how to make a story, either. If anyone sends me asks for writing advice the most I'll do is say what I've done before hopping into your DMs and starting a direct conversation. it's so personal to each individual artist, and I'd like to think that the people selling these classes and software and promoting these platforms haven't thought about that before. Otherwise it does feel manipulative. If you have a willingness to practice and imagine and really experiment with the possibilities, you are ready to write your story.
And if it doesn't work? Try again. That's what you do.
Stephen King has written roughly a thousand books and maybe five of them have decent endings. He is unimaginably successful.
I'm rambling now. I think I got that out of my system. I was really worried to say this out of fear of being too weird or somehow reverse-gatekeeping so hard that it circles back into also being a bad thing. I've just spoken to a lot of people who I still think of throughout my day, and I truly ache for them to get past the fear of creation. Because it's worth it. It's worth it and it's fun, even when it's messy and you're tired.
Let it Be just came on. Beatles. I haven't listened to The Beatles in a long time. Feels a little apropos.
I love you, reader. Reader, Writer, Colleague. Take care of yourself. Especially the little you, still sitting there in the backyard of your soul, bathing in the sun with their bare feet in the damp earth.
Consider joining them, maybe.
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