#also please name them top to bottom because I really easily get confused

[the-lazyyy-artist]

Roommates Wanted! fem!reader x o. aiku x s. ryusei x i. sae introduction

summary: a front desk officer, a professor, an MMA instructor, and an editor walked into a room... what do you get?

tags and themes: roommates au, first meetings, slight crack, very ooc, soccer doesn't exist here

author's note: just a little peek of my take on the roommate au. Also, shoutout to @cheralith for inspiring me with her own fic series - apartment 345. Check that out, it's a fucking masterpiece!!

Check out the Masterlist!!

Divider from @uzmacchiato

For Rent

4-Bedroom Apartment, 1 Bath

Please Call: xxxx-xxxx-xx

Address: XXXXXX

You look at the posting on your phone as you stand at the apartment building in front of you. You have always wanted to rent out an apartment, anyway. And to have roommates? That’s something you’ve always wanted to experience. Living alone in a sad hotel room for 2 years has stunted your ability to see the sun and socialize. So this is a good option.

Upon entering, you were greeted by a small lobby. Well, it wasn’t much of a lobby anyway. There was a small desk manned by a teenage boy, around 17, you assumed. You smiled at him and asked him about the posting. “Ah, you’re here for it too?” He asked, smiling widely. “That makes two of you, then.”

“Two?” you asked, and he gestured to a gentleman sitting on the plush bench across the room. He waved at you, and you waved back, a little shy. “You can sign here first.” The boy handed you a logbook, and you signed your name and your purpose of visit. “My aunt will be here in a while. Have a seat.” And sit, you did. You gave a few inches of space between you and the shaggy-haired man, and you started to look around the interior of the small lobby. “Here for the posting?” He asked, his voice deep and smooth. “Yeah,” you replied, your eyes falling to meet his… his heterochromic ones. Wow, you thought. It was the first time you saw eyes like this up close. He must’ve noticed because a lazy grin graced his lips. “You work in a hotel… Y/N?”

“What?” you asked, confused as to how he guessed your name right. He then gestured to the name plate on the left side of your chest, with the hotel’s logo and your name engraved on it. You scoffed lightly and moved to remove it, something you usually do when you leave work. “Ah, yeah,” you laughed awkwardly. “You?”

“Middle school teacher,” He replied with an air of coolness in his demeanor. No wonder he felt like someone you could easily approach. “Wanna guess what subject?”

“Uh,” you bit your bottom lip as you read him. You pride yourself at being pretty good at this. “Science.” The man chuckled, eyes crinkling at the sides. “No, no. But kinda close. I teach Health and Sex Ed.” You raised your brows at him, and before you could ask, he spoke again. “It’s an interesting subject. And I want to be the one to teach young minds about their bodies and how they work before anyone gives them the wrong idea.”

You nodded, understanding. Pretty passionate, you thought. Just then, footsteps can be heard descending the stairs, and a lady, probably around her 50s, approached you and the man. “Oh, our applicants,” she chimed. “Come, you two. Let me give you a tour of the room.”

The room was on the fourth floor, and by the time you reached the top, your legs were jelly. Stiletto heels and stairs aren’t a good combination, and add the fact that you had a hard shift that day. The lady unlocked the room, and you and the man entered. It was bare for now, but what really made your heart feel at home was the amount of sunlight that streamed through the windows. Airflow was wonderful too. The man moved further into the room and found himself in the kitchen. You heard him hum as he looked around the cupboards, as if thinking about what items to put in them. “The four bedrooms are down the hall, all facing each other. You can check the rooms,” the lady said, prompting you to go further.

You and the man took turns checking the rooms, and you had already decided which one would be yours. “So?” The man asked. “Already decided?”

“What?”

“I’m clearly liking the place, Y/N.”

“You… want to rent this place with me?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “Roommates.”

You looked at him for a moment and hummed. “Yeah, sure. That could work. All we have to do is look for the last two to rent the rooms.”

In the end, the apartment was officially yours and…

“What’s your name, by the way?” You asked the man as you walked out of the apartment building. “You already know mine, so I should at least know yours now that we’re going to be roommates.” The man smiled at you and showed you his ID instead.

Oliver Aiku.

You moved in immediately since your time is quite limited. Aiku moved that weekend. You also made sure to discuss the boundaries and rules that the apartment should have with Aiku, and he understood. You put him in charge of looking for roommates, as you sent him the design you made on a whim to attract applicants.

“Didn’t know you were a graphic designer too,” he joked, sitting at the dinner table with you. You sat across him, and you kicked his leg under the table. He let out an “ow” as you laughed. “I did my best, professor,” you replied. “You know how busy we get at the hotel.” You heard him laugh softly as he examined the design you made, zooming in on it on his phone. “No need to remind me, babe.”

You had it posted on your social media accounts and online forums, hoping someone would pick it up.

For a while, no calls came in. And it was just Aiku and you. You didn’t mind. Aiku was a warm presence in the apartment, always so mindful of you, especially during the days when you’d come home at 2 in the morning. He’d always save you a plate of dinner, waiting in the fridge for you to reheat and eat.

Eventually, that peace will be disrupted.

It was a cool Saturday morning, and you just left for your afternoon shift. Aiku had already finished grading his students’ essay papers last night, and he had all the free time that day, so he decided to visit the gym nearby. He read somewhere that this gym was pretty popular and offered one-on-one classes for MMA fighting and Judo. Upon arriving, he asked the front desk if the classes accept walk-ins. Lucky for him, it did, and it just happened that the MMA schedule for that hour was open.

Aiku approached the instructor and was amused by his appearance. Tanned skin, lean muscles, blonde hair with pink tips, styled up and spikey. Aiku wondered if the eyeliner on his eyes was just no-budge eyeliner that he applied every day or tattoos, because they still looked clean on his face.

“Yo,” the blonde called out. “You here for the class?” Aiku nodded, dropping his gym bag on the nearby bench. “Yeah. Figured I'd try this out for once.”

“So, a beginner? That should be easy. Name’s Shidou.”

“Aiku, man. Nice to meet ya.”

Shidou was professional, handling Aiku in every drill they did. Shidou was surprised Aiku was able to hold up after the drills, even when he decided to “take it up a notch”, which Aiku was okay with. “Damn, you’re the only one I had today that was able to keep up. Do you usually work out?” Shidou asked as he attempted to tackle Aiku. “Nah,” Aiku grunted. “I don’t have the time sometimes. I’d say it’s the genes.” Shidou barked a laugh as he finally took Aiku down.

As the two were cooling down, Aiku spoke up. “Hey, man. I know this is gonna be weird, but do you know anyone who’s looking for a place to rent?” Shidou frowned at him, confused. “Huh?”

Aiku chuckled as he breathed out. “My roommate and I are looking for two more people to rent out the empty rooms in our apartment. Would be nice to have more people in there.” Shidou groaned, cracking his neck. “Yeah? Where’s it located?” Aiku was quick to grab his phone and show the posting. “Hm, interesting,” Shidou murmured. “Can you send this to me?”

“Yeah, sure.”

That night, at around 10:30 PM, there was a knock on the door. Aiku was alone at the apartment, and he knew it wasn’t you. He knows you have a key of your own, so a visitor at this time was odd for him. He quickly dried his hands before he opened the door to see…

“Shidou?” He asked. “Hey, man.”

They clapped hands, and Shidou grinned at him, baring. “I’m here for the room.”

“You… You’ll rent out one of the rooms?” Aiku asked, a little dumbfounded. Shidou shrugged and replied, “Been looking for a place anyway. You came with an offer, and I’m here to check it out.”

“Alright.” Aiku stepped aside and let Shidou walk inside the apartment unit. He watched as Shidou’s magenta eyes scanned the living room, dining area, and kitchen. “Good place you got here,” he whistled low. Aiku laughed softly, nodding. “Well, the princess and I did all we could to make it homey.”

“Princess? You got a girl for a roommate?” Shidou asked, brow raised. Aiku walked towards him and slung an arm around the blonde’s shoulder. “Yeah. Kinda strict, but she does her best. She should be home in a few.”

Aiku led Shidou to the empty rooms for him to choose which room he’d want, and he chose the one beside yours. Aiku asked him again if he was sure, and Shidou said that he was deadass. So, Aiku quickly briefed him on the boundaries and rules you had laid out, and Shidou was cool with it. Just before Shidou could leave, the doorknob jiggled and the door opened. “I’m home,” you sighed, your head lowered as you kicked your stilettos off. “Fucking hard shift, again.” You dropped your keys on the bowl near the door, and when you raised your eyes to meet Aiku’s, you were instead met with electric pink eyes. You straightened and smiled at him, the way you do when you’re at work. “Oh, hi!” you chimed. “Friend of yours, Aiku?”

Aiku opened his mouth to reply, but Shidou cut him off. “I’m your new roommate. Shidou, by the way,” he said smugly, holding out his hand for you to shake. You reluctantly did, and he gripped your hand a little tighter. “Can’t wait to move in here next week. Thanks Aiku and…” His eyes narrowed, and he grinned. “Y/N.”

Your brows furrowed, and you looked down at your chest. There, your nameplate, still attached to your uniform. “Sure, sure.. See you, Shidou.”

Once Shidou left and the door was locked, you were quick to slap Aiku’s arm. He laughed it off as he rubbed his skin. “Aiku! He’s loud!” You whisper-yelled, and Aiku laughed even more. “Oh, come on. We need the noise. And he’s gonna pay rent and contribute, like you said in the agreement.” You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose and stared at Aiku like he adopted a puppy without asking. “What does he do, anyway?”

“A trainer at the gym. A damn good one, too. I met him there today because I took his class.”

“Okay, no more people from the gym. Please.”

Days now become louder with Shidou around. He greets everyone with a good morning way too loudly, sometimes waking you up way too early for work. Aiku had to scold Shidou a few times before Shidou learned when to be loud and not (just in days when you had to deal with your graveyard shifts at the hotel). As time went on, you learned how to appreciate Shidou’s personality as it added a few more colors to the comfortable home you and Aiku started to build first. He was a nice addition to the apartment.

The next month, there was another knock on the door. “You gonna get that?” Shidou said as he drank his protein shake. Aiku, busy with the meal prep for the day, shrugged. “You sure it’s not yours?” He asked Shidou. The blonde quickly shook his head. “Come on, when did I bring someone here? Or invite someone over?” Aiku laughed. “Alright, you gremlin.”

Aiku dried his hands before he opened the door. Standing outside was the most polished man they had seen so far. Suit pressed, neat and plain necktie, and a briefcase in his hand. His eyes were ocean blue, cold and still. His hair, auburn and styled neatly… kind of. “Uh, can I help you?” Aiku asked. He leaned on the doorframe as he watched the man fish for his phone in his pocket. “I’m here for this,” he spoke, his voice calm and cool. He showed Aiku the posting for the room, and Aiku was taken aback. “Really?”

The man nodded and sighed. “Look, I’m just interested in this posting and what the room looks like. It also sounded promising.”

Aiku stepped aside and let the man in, closing the door behind. Shidou grinned and approached him. “Shidou Ryusei,” he said. “Sae.”

“No last name?” Shidou teased, to which Sae sighed. “I have my reasons for not sharing my last name, Shidou.” The blonde raised his hands as he feigned surrender. “Alright, no need to be cold.”

Aiku gave Shidou the look, and he just shrugged. “I’m Oliver Aiku, by the way. Just call me Aiku.” Sae nodded and looked around. Aiku was glad he was able to convince Shidou to clean up, otherwise, the unexpected guest would turn his heels and out the door. Sae ran his hand on the couch that you and Aiku bought second-hand, his eyes scanning the living room. He hummed, as if he was satisfied with it. They watched Sae slowly navigate the dining area as Shidou walked to Aiku, just to whisper, “I bet pretty boy will have a lot of demands.” Aiku nudged his chest as Shidou huffed in pain. Just when Sae found himself in the kitchen area, eyeing the meal Aiku was preparing, a bedroom door opened. “Morning,” you grumbled, rubbing your eyes. Sae focused on you for a moment, a small smile appearing on his face. He was a little relieved that the third person was a girl.

“Y/N,” Aiku called out, “We have a visitor.”

You were met by this polished man, way too polished. You knew immediately he was here for the last spare room, so you fixed yourself quickly, the way that you always do. “Hi,” you chimed, your service industry voice floating. You saw the man’s brows shoot up as yours shot up in return. “Are you here for the room?” Sae nodded, and you were quick to lead him to the said room, the boys watching you be you. “She always does this,” Shidou murmured, “always so polite.”

“Well, that’s her. It’s actually cute. Just let her work her magic,” Aiku said.

When you and Sae stepped out of the room, the boys had a feeling that their little group of four was finally complete. You discussed the boundaries and rules with Sae, and Sae agreed to all. “I’ll move in next week,” he said calmly before he stepped out of the apartment. “Great!” you chimed, your voice reaching a pitch the others never heard. “We’ll see you soon… uhm… Sorry, I didn’t catch your name the whole time.”

“It’s okay. It’s Sae. Itoshi Sae.”

As soon as the door closed, the three of you looked at each other. “So?” You asked the boys. Shidou shrugged and grinned. “He looks like he’s out of place, Y/N. Gotta be honest with you.” You broke your posture and sighed, knowing Shidou was correct. “But he’s so neat. I like him.” Aiku pouted and leaned on you. “But babe, we’re also neat.”

“Yeah, when I ask you guys to clean up.”

“Well, I guess we’re already complete. You think Sae’s gonna work well with us here? He looks like a real quiet guy,” Aiku said.

“You mean judgmental. I don’t like the way his eyes scanned over me like I’m a freak.”

You laughed and patted Shidou’s arm. “Well, you’re our freak.”

“You mean that, sweetheart?”

“Shut up,” you laughed.

“Did you catch his last name? Itoshi… Wait a damn minute.”

On that same day, you three discovered that your fourth roommate was rich enough to buy you, your careers, and the whole damn apartment building if he wanted to.

[king-of-docks]

Alright lets play "guess who is who based on my haircut headcanon".

[koraki-pharmakis]

10 Myths About Hellenismos

Today, let's address some popular myths (and the truths) about Hellenismos and its deities. Not very surprisingly, most of these things come from Wicca or Christian colonization. You can believe these things if you want, they just aren't from the religion.

Myth 1: Deity work is dangerous

Truth: Deity work, in Hellenismos, isn't any more dangerous than worshiping the Christian god is supposed to be. This notion didn't originate in Hellenismos, and is also a largely neopagan idea. Our theoi aren't monsters or aggressive. They won't kill you over tiny mistakes. Just respect them, do what you can, and you'll be fine.

Remember that even in the mythos, people aren't smited for the wrong offering. They're smited for blatant and deliberate disrespect, which by nature can't be done accidentally.

Our deities genuinely aren't easily angered. They wont be mad if you reach out to them, if you confuse them for something else, if you give them the wrong offering, etc.

Myth 2: You need to look out for entities impersonating deities

Truth: Again, this isn't remotely from Hellenismos. Our gods cannot be impersonated by evil entities. Frankly, we don't really have entities with that desire or power in the religion. If you're contacting a Hellenic deity, and you get an affirmative response, you contacted them. The idea you didn't, or that something else is lying to you, is from outside the religion. Our deities are more powerful than random ghosts, and our religion doesn't have that concept.

Myth 3: Hekate is a moon goddess/crone

Truth: Hekate is associated with the moon, but she is not a goddess of the moon. She is the goddess of one lunar phase--the dark moon, which is on the eve of Hekate's Deipnon. She is also not a crone goddess outside of neopaganism and Wicca. Historically, she was depicted as a maiden. Her triple form was also not maiden/mother/crone, simply a triple maiden-esque figure.

Myth 4: Hestia gave her seat to Dionysos/Apollon took Helios's chariot

Truth: Honestly, it's just a difference in counting. Some deities were and weren't Olympians depending on time, culture, and locations. No seats on Olympos were "given up," it's just that sometimes one is there and sometimes the other isn't.

As for the chariot, no. Apollon didn't replace Helios. They were synchronized, but Apollon didn't "take" the chariot, and Helios was never removed. Helios is still the sun--his name is literally "sun."

Myth 5: The myths are history/Hellenic Polytheists believe in the myths

Truth: The characters in myths are real to us, and some myths are literal, but in general, Hellenic mythology is not meant to be taken fully literally. Most of it is symbolic. Additionally, a lot of the r*pe in the mythos is translation errors. We believe in our heroes and our gods, and we believe there is truth in the myths, but no, our mythology isn't like Christian mythology--it's not expected or really encouraged to believe the myths are strictly true history. The myths aren't even consistent over time and location, so it's simply impossible to believe in all of them at once. But no, our gods do not act the way they do in mythology. Myths are by and for mortals, and do not capture the divine.

Myth 6: It's disrespectful to dress up as or write fiction about the gods

Truth: This is just ridiculous and ahistoric. The majority of Ancient Greek theater was deity cosplay and fanfiction. I said what I said.

This can definitely be done disrespectfully, but isn't inherently disrespectful. You also aren't required to represent the theoi fully accurately in this.

Myth 6: X god is Y orientation/gender

Truth: While you can certainly theorize our theoi's sexuality, and none of our gods are cishet by modern standards, none of the gods can only be interpreted as one gender or orientation. The terms we ascribe to them are based on mythos, portrayals, and modern interpretation of historic social roles.

The most common of these theories are maiden goddesses as aroace (ie. Hestia, Athena, Artemis), erastes (top) gods as bi men (ie. Zeus, Apollon, Patroklos), eromenos (bottom) gods as gay men (ie. Ganymedes, Hyakinthos, Akhilleus), and Artemis as a lesbian.

None of these are wrong, to be clear. It's just not as simple as using our modern labels for them. Erastes and eromenos were both considered straight in Ancient Greece; being a 'virgin' didn't always mean celibate; Artemis can be interpreted as bi, lesbian, and/or aroace based on her myths. You can interpret them however you like--I certainly interpret my gods as queer--but there is no single right answer.

Myth 7: You need a patron or to be devoted to someone, or can only have one patron/be devoted to one god, & devotion is an oath

Truth: Patron deities are more of a principle in neopaganism and Wicca than in Hellenismos. Worshiping the theoi does not require you to find a patron or devote to a deity, ever. Patronage is not particularly important or common, unless you are thinking of a patron god of a trade (ie. if you're a blacksmith your patron is Hephaistos).

Devotion is also not exclusive, and never requires an oath. Oaths in Hellenismos are extremely serious, and should never be taken without extreme caution. If you aren't willing to die if you break the oath, don't make it--find something else. You probably wont die, but that's the necessary level of certainty. Devotion, while serious, is not as serious as being oath-bound. You can be devoted to multiple deities, and devotion can be called off if needed. You can't really call off an oath.

Myth 8: X god is a r*pist!

Truth: Please stop it. Just stop it. No. Especially if you're basing that on Lore Olympus. The mythology isn't fact, weird inaccurate mythology fanfic written by someone who doesn't know anything about the myths isn't fact.

The mythology isn't straight up history. The myths were often mistranslated (the Greek word for r*pe didn't just mean r*pe) and they aren't facts. They were also products of their culture. So. No. They are not. And their worshipers aren't r*pe apologists.

Myth 9: Titans are evil and/or Olympians hate titans

Truth: Titans are fine. Really. They're not evil, they're not going to hurt you. They're just another kind of Theoi. Many of them were actually a large part of the historic religion. Hekate's Deipnon was a monthly festival, after all. And no, Olympians don't hate titans. Remember the point about myths not being literal.

Myth 10: The gods are jealous

Truth: No, the gods will not be jealous if you worship another god. They wont be jealous if you worship another pantheon, or if you need a break. If you're a god consort, they won't be jealous if you're interested in other mortals or deities. If you're a devotee, they won't be upset if you devote to other deities.

The most jealous a god gets is upset if you break an oath, promise, or agreement with them. If you promised them a daily libation but skipped it for another deity without permission, they may get upset. But even then, that's not really jealousy.

Myth 11: If you work with X deity, you can't work with Y

Truth: This is usually based on rivalry in mythology, and isn't true at all. Related to the above jealousy point, no deity in real life hates another deity, especially not enough that if you worship both they'll be upset. You can worship Aphrodite and Persephone. You can honor Hera and Leto.

Most of these gods are actually happy if you honor other theoi. Many of them are family, or share domains.

If enough people are interested, I might make a part two, because this is barely the tip of the iceberg. RBs welcome from pagans and non-pagans alike.

[fandomscraziness22]

begonia for sadie and frankie and caleb!

hi this is very late we all know but i'm actually kinda proud of it! takes place right after ep 2 of College Tapes!

begonia (beware) — “just be careful, okay?”

Caleb hangs up the call and lets himself stew in his awful mixture of emotions for a few seconds, trying to name them as he goes.

Fear. Anger. Confusion. A hint of resentment. Longing for what used to be. 

Missing him.

Caleb takes a deep breath in, holds his emotions in tight, then as he lets out his breath, he shoves them all deep into the little box he’s created for this purpose, so he doesn’t infect his friends who are all at his kitchen table right now. Sure, when she taught him how to properly breathe and control his emotions, Dr. Bright didn’t intend for that exercise to be used quite this way (he's supposed to let the emotions settle into himself or slowly filter out into the breeze), but right now, it’s the safest way Caleb has.

When he’s sure he’s composed himself enough, he opens the door and faces Sadie, Frankie and Ben. 

“Who was that?” Frankie asks right away, balancing a slice of pizza on his fingertips. Caleb can see the electricity beginning to spark—one of Frankie’s many talents includes burning the bottom of his pizza crusts. 

“Uh, it was…Adam.” Caleb braces for impact.

Ben doesn't react (and Caleb doesn’t expect them to, being new around here), but Frankie and Sadie’s eyes both widen at the admission.

“What did he want?” Sadie snaps. “Please tell me you told him to fuck off and hung up.”

Like Caleb would ever do that. Even though they’ve been broken up for a year now, he still can’t help the slight pink-lovesick emotion that slithered around his heart at Adam’s voice. He was Caleb’s first love, and that’s not something he can let go easily.

When Caleb doesn’t answer, Ben asks hesitantly, “Who’s Adam?”

“Caleb’s ex,” Frankie says. “They went to high school together. He goes to Yale.” Ben’s face crinkles in admiration for the top school name-drop, but Frankie turns back to Caleb. “Why did he call?”

Caleb tries to ignore Sadie’s red-hot protective anger, though he feels a bit of it himself. “He said there was something Atypical going on, and he needs my help.”

Sadie’s already shaking her head. “No way, Caleb. He’s not your responsibility.”

“But it’s Atypical,” Caleb argues. “And he doesn’t know anyone like me out there. He sounded really freaked out.”

Caleb knows the different tones of Adam’s voice like the back of his hand. He knows the barely-hidden excitement of a new book he’d just finished reading, or the forced lightness Adam would use when his depression was bad and he really just needed Caleb to hold him all day. 

Or at least, Caleb used to know. He’d like to think that he can still read Adam, a little bit. And he sounded terrified of whatever he had found. Add to that the fact that Adam didn’t want to tell him over the phone? It was a recipe for something real.

Frankie, ever the optimistic one, asks the big question. “So you’re going to see him? Try and help?”

Caleb nods, ignoring Sadie’s huff. “I have a few more classes, but I can leave Friday afternoon. Spend the weekend checking it out, see if we can figure out the weirdness.”

Frankie and Ben both take his answer at face value, and Ben quickly engages Frankie in some sort of technology conversation. Something about coding but also how Frankie’s powers interact with the machines—nothing Caleb has to pay attention to.

He tries to take stock of his friends’ feelings; Ben’s contentment and enjoyment at being included, Frankie’s easy light purple a familiar presence in the back of his mind. Sadie nudges his foot with hers.

“You sure about this, Michaels?” she asks as she grabs another slice of pizza. “Because you can say no. I promise the world isn’t going to collapse if you don’t run to the rescue every chance you get.”

Caleb drinks a bit of his iced tea before answering. “I’m worried about seeing him, obviously. But he needs my help, and I’m the best option he’s got, I guess. I don’t want him to get hurt.”

Sadie snorts. “You’re nicer than me, Michaels.” She takes a moment to think, then says, “Just be careful, okay? I know you already had some scary Atypical shit happen to you, and I just need you to stay safe.”

He nods and smiles across the table at her. “I will, don’t worry.” Sadie finally drops it and Caleb tunes back into the conversation around him. He’s glad he has this little group to watch his back. He wouldn't want it any other way. 

[collecting-stories]

Loose Lips - Rafe Cameron

Request: hey gorg! i’ve been waiting to request for so long and now they’re open! it’s kind of a basic idea but being kie’s sister and hooking up with rafe on the dl? and john b comes over to see sarah and sees y/n walking out of his room? thank you!!

A/N: This honestly came so easily to me and I’ve been having the hardest time writing so...fingers crossed that’s a good sign. Also, was listening to Lips by The Maine when I wrote this. 

Outer Banks Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

The sound of the voice calling your name wasn’t unfamiliar to you but it was unfamiliar in this space. That voice, it was your best friend’s deep, raspy like he’d just taken a mouth of saltwater after he wiped out, voice. The tone was confused, naturally, because while he was out of place here to you, you were out of place here to him. You turned away from the bedroom door that you were quietly pulling shut, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights.  

“John B? What are you doing here?” You’re words came out barely above a whisper, praying that the person on the other side of the door, the person you’d just left, wouldn’t hear the commotion.  

“I swung by to get Sarah...” he trailed off, probably, easily, putting together that you were coming out of not-Sarah's room and you definitely weren’t hanging with Wheezie whenever you disappeared for an afternoon or after a party. “What are you doing here?”

If he eliminated Rose and Ward too, that left one person in the Cameron household. You could see the gears turning in his head, already imagine him trying to blindly text your sister some kind of SOS as he reached his hand into his back pocket. Maybe you could play it off, would you rather he think you were buying coke or that you were here for the actual reason you were here.

“I uh...” you trailed off, looking back at the crisp white door, the doorknob warm in your hand, knuckles turning white as you gripped it. Maybe you could slip back inside and pretend nothing ever happened. “I-”

Before you got a chance to answer him, the doorknob was pulled out of your grasp and you stumbled back as the door opened, the last option John B wanted to believe but the one he knew was it stepping into the hallway.  

“You’re still...” Rafe looked at you curiously for a moment, you were still in the hallway outside his room. But when he turned he John B at the top of the stairs looking a lot like someone who’d just been told that Santa Claus wasn’t real. “You forgot your phone.”

If there was any chance for making John B believe that your trip to the Cameron household was innocent or not-innocent-but-not-what-he-thought, that opportunity flew out the window. Rafe was standing there, holding your phone out to you, in nothing but a pair of boxers sitting so low on his hips it was obvious he’d just pulled them on to come out of his room. His hair was still messed up and there was clear evidence, marks on his otherwise flawlessly sunkissed skin, that whatever happened in there was exactly what John B didn’t want it to be.

“Are you sleeping with Rafe?” He practically shouted as you awkwardly pocketed your phone. Couldn’t you have just stayed in bed ten extra minutes like Rafe had asked, did you have to always be so punctual.

“It’s not what it looks like!” You insisted, not daring to look over at your co-conspirator. You could just imagine him leaning up against the door frame or the wall, arms crossed over his chest, amused grin as you tried to stutter out an explanation. Wasn’t that exactly how you had ended up in his bed the first time?

“Pretty fucking sure it looks like you and Rafe just had sex.” John B replied, sounding both disgusted by the idea and betrayed.  

“Oh, then it is exactly what it looks like.” Rafe piped up. You turned to look at him, trying your absolute hardest to burn him with your glare. He remained unaffected, which didn’t surprise you at all. He usually was unaffected by most things.  

“Does...does Kie know about this?”  

“Please John B, you cannot tell my sister about this.” Sarah didn’t even know and most times you were in the house at the same time that she was. There was no way any of them would take this well. Hell, your sister had thrown a fit the first time John B brought Sarah around. This would be ten times worse.  

“So what’re you saying,” Rafe asked, feigning hurt, “you don’t want anyone to know about us? I’m really hurt Carrera...I thought we meant something to each other.”

“Shut up Rafe!” You snapped, smacking his arm.  

John B ran his hands through his hair, pulling at the ends. He had half a mind to bolt back down the stairs and tell Kiara exactly what he’d seen. You leaving Rafe’s room, Rafe confirming that you were sleeping together. “How long have you guys been together?” He asked you, trying to remind himself that you were his friend, practically his sister, and he owed it to you to let you explain. At least enough that he could get a whole picture of what was going on.  

“Together...would you call it that? Together?” Rafe cut in before you could answer, repeating the word a third time as if he was testing it out. Like he’d never heard it before.  

In all honesty, and maybe somehow it was better this way, you weren’t together. You weren’t even definitely friends. You were just hooking up, strictly sex. And yeah, maybe sometimes after sex you hung out and watched TV or smoked weed or ordered a pizza and then had more sex, but it wasn’t together. It wasn’t a relationship.  

“We aren’t.” You said it like you were promising John B it was nothing serious. “We aren’t together.”

“John B!” Sarah’s voice rang out from the bottom of the staircase, “are we going or what?”  

You mouthed a silent please to him. Please don’t tell Sarah, don’t tell anyone. If your friends found out you would be ostracized, tossed from the pogues forever. You would never be able to show your face on the Cut again.  

“Yeah, yeah...” He called back, waving his hand to her to go outside, he’d be right there. He was still staring at you, as if he could somehow figure out why you had decided to hook up with Rafe of all people. Maybe if he looked at you long enough it would all make sense. “We need to talk later.”  

“We will, just please...I’ll, we’ll talk, I’ll explain.” You promised, trying to buy yourself some time.  

He turned from the top of the staircase, heading down to meet Sarah in the foyer and you heard her ask what the hell was taking him so long when she thought he’d just gone up to use the bathroom. He fumbled through an excuse, casting one more look up the stairs but he couldn’t see either you or Rafe from his position near the door.  

When you heard the door slam shut behind them you pressed your hands to your face, “fuck...fuck.”  

“Looks like someone’s in trouble.” Rafe teased, laughing when you smacked his arm for a second time.  

“Shut the fuck up Rafe!” You grumbled, turning to look at him, “fuck...he’s totally gonna tell my sister, he has no fucking filter. And they’re all shit at keeping secrets.”  

“Well,” Rafe shrugged, standing straight and pointing back to his bedroom with his thumb, “might as well come back in, if they’re gonna know anyway.”

“No, I need to leave, I need to go talk to them or something or try to...explain what’s...” your sentence stuttered, trailing off as you lost your thought. Rafe had crossed the hallway to you, placing his hands on your hips and leaning down enough that he could kiss along your neck and shoulder, over faint marks that he’d left earlier.

“You need to what?” He asked, between trailing kisses.  

“Rafe...”

“You need to what?” He repeated, pulling away just enough to look at you. Right now John B was no doubt cooking up exactly what he was going to say despite promising to let you explain because he had absolutely not self-control and he was always more loyal to Kiara. You needed to leave, to somehow beat him to his own house so you could make them understand that this meant absolutely nothing to you, that they were your friends and they were ten times more important than Rafe Cameron. “You need to...come back to my room?”

“Like ten minutes, tops.” You reasoned, letting him taking your hands and walk you into his room, pushing the door closed behind you with your foot. It wouldn’t be ten minutes, both of you knew that, but you’d been slowly lying to yourself about this whole thing for months. What was ten more minutes?

[anyoneseenadam]

we all know azriel is one kinky mf 😂 what about the reader introducing him the mortal basic sex toys and him ‘experimenting’ the whole bdsm thing on the reader because he thought only bondage was the only thing that existed

pairing: azriel x reader (acotar)

warnings: this is filthy, pet play, dom az, sub reader, slight breath play, overstiulation, orgasm denial (lemme know if i missed anything)

a/n: ummmmm i may have over done this but im horny and lonely so leave me alone lol, lemme know what u think <33

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

Azriel knew you were into a lot of stuff. Fuck he was too. But your world was completely different to his so when you approached him with a box and the cute smile you always wore when you wanted something, he knew you were taking it a step up.

It wasn’t as if your sex life was vanilla. Azriel revelled in looking after your every need and you fell so easily into a submissive nature that it worked perfectly. But the two of you had rarely ventured past light bondage and the spoken aspect that came with your power dynamic.

He sat facing you now, watching as you bounced cutely in excitement with the box secure in your lap. He had never seen the box before, but you had recently returned from a trip home to the world you were born in, so he presumed that was why.

“Are you going to open that bunny?” he asked, a smile tugging at his lips when you scrunched up your face.

“I need to explain it first,” you said, and he tilted his head, wondering what it could possibly be. “It’s just- while I love our sex and all, like top-notch, ten out of ten I have no complaints.”

Azriel laughed as you spoke, “Out with-it bunny,”

“Well actually, it’s about that.” He raised his eyebrows in question, and you moved to explain, “Bunny.”

“What? Do you not like the name?” he asked, growing more confused by the second.

“No I love it!” you were failing at articulating your thoughts, so you slumped your shoulders before pushing the box to him.

“Can I open this?” he asked, wanting to be sure he wasn’t crossing your boundaries smiling when you nodded. Inside revealed dozens of foreign objects, small rubber tools, handcuffs, rope, but what caught his attention was the fluffy rabbit tale attached to what appeared to be a plug and the matching ears. He looked up at you with a smile as he picked it up.

“Bunny huh?” he asked, and you felt your face heating up, nodding shyly.

“Yeah I was wanting to try it out,” your voice was quiet, and he reached for you, pulling you tightly into his lap.

“What does everything else do?” he asked, and you smiled, picking up a small tool and pressing it against his palm, flipping a switch on the other side as he felt vibrations run through his palm. You then talked him through other things, your voice getting smaller and shyer with certain objects in the box, namely the leash.

“I also got this,” you said at the end, reaching to grab a bad he recognised, the fancy lingerie store that was located near the old house. He reached in, eyes widening when he pulled out an intimate lace two piece with matching stockings and a garter belt. And upon further inspection he found the thin panties were crotchless, looking up at you with dark eyes.

“Tonight, you are going to get dressed up nice and pretty for me, tail and ears included, and then we’ll really see how some of this works. Okay bunny?” you gulped as his voice lowered in pitch.

“Yes daddy.”

--

You were sat on your knees. The floor was cold and hard, pressing against you roughly but you didn’t dare move. You had nothing on but the white lingerie you had purchased and, the headband holding fluffy rabbit ears. You shifted slightly, the plug that was wedged deep inside of you, shifting as you whimpered. You didn’t know how you hadn’t dripped on the floor yet, your pussy soaking and pulsating with need.

Azriel was standing in front of you, his eyes impassive as they raked over your features. He bent down slightly, tilting your head via the collar he had secured around your neck and kissing you deeply.

“Such a cute little bunny,” he whispered against your mouth as he pulled away, smiling when you chased his lips. “So desperate for me, aren’t you bunny?”

You nodded desperately and he slapped your cheek lightly, “Words.”

“Yes daddy,” you whispered, voice shy as he smiled down at you. He was so tall you felt even smaller than usual as he towered over you, standing back to his full height. His wings and shadows made it all the more intimidating, crowding you in until all you could see was him.

He had already discarded his shirt and you watched in awe as he undid his trousers, pulling his impressive length out and running the leaking tip over your bottom lip. He smiled as your tongue darted out, licking away the precum that was left on your lips as he gripped your hair.

“Keep those hands behind your back,” he ordered, and you moved them, pushing your breasts forward as a result. “Open wide, bunny.”

He pushed into your mouth gently to start. He was big and he knew it, and he didn’t want to hurt his bunny to early. Although his composure was slipping as you sat at his feet, all pouty lips and doe eyes. Looking like the epitome of innocence.

He pushed in further, tip hitting the back of your throat as you willed yourself to relax around him, sucking lightly as he started to thrust slowly into your mouth. He started to lose himself in the thrusts, and moved faster, going deeper into your mouth as you gagged around him, tears falling and smudging your makeup.

He looked down and looked at you, his cock in the back of your throat with tears streaming down your face as you gazed up at him with eyes full of adoration. He felt himself get impossibly harder and thrust particularly hard into your mouth, your hands moving to balance yourself on his thighs automatically.

He growled and your eyes widened as he roughly pulled himself from your mouth, “What did I say bunny?”

You stayed quiet, eyes wide as he grabbed your collar again, tugging harshly as he pulled your face up to his.

“Bunny…” his voice was low, and you spoke quickly, afraid of your punishment.

“To keep my hands behind my back daddy,” he gripped your chin in one hand,

“And what did you do?”

“I moved them, I’m sorry daddy,” you whined as he pulled away, not daring to move when he walked away, rustling in something behind you. You flinched when you felt his hand on your wrists, securing them behind your back with the baby pink handcuffs you had bought.

He moved to stand in front of you again, moving his cock back to your lips and pushing into your mouth, even deeper this time. He smiled ferally when you gagged, “Awe can the little bunny not take it? Is it too much bunny?” he mocked, and you moaned around him as he started thrusting again.

His thrusts got sloppy quickly, too turned on by the sight of you underneath him. “You’re so pretty bunny,” he moaned, stroking one of your cheeks as his other hand held the back of your head. He sped up again when you moaned before pulling you flush against his base, one hand moving to rest around your throat where he could feel himself as he spilled inside of you.

You moaned as he came, some of it spilling into your mouth and coating your tongue with the salty taste as he pulled back, tucking himself back into his trousers as you caught your breath.

“Good bunny, you did so well,” he praised, and you smiled up at him as he brought you to stand, your knees aching. He went to sit on the bed, pulling you to sit onto his lap as you rested your head on his shoulder, his hands moving slowly as they stroked your back.

“Fuck bunny you’re so wet, can feel you through my trousers.” He swore and you whimpered as he shifted you, so you were straddling on thigh, leaning back on his hands as you tried to remain balanced with your hands behind your back.

“Go on baby, fuck yourself on my thigh,” he commanded, and you felt your face heat up. “Well get on with it, you don’t need me to do everything for you, do you? Such a dumb bunny.” He smacked your thigh lightly and you started grinding down, letting out a whiny moan as he degraded you, your pussy dripping onto his thigh as you ran your cunt over him.

The friction his trousers creates on your clit was fogging up your mind and you struggled to stay upright as you moved, balance thrown off with nothing to hold onto. You started moving quicker, desperate for release. Azriel was watching you intently, a lazy smirk on his face as he watched you struggle to move on his thigh.

You found a rhythm and started grinding down harder onto him, moaning with your head back. As you neared your release, Azriel gripped your hips and helped pulling you down harder against him, your wetness making it easier to guid you along his leg. You were almost there when suddenly he lifted you completely off his leg, causing you to shriek as you fell forward in his grasp.

“Not yet bunny,” he cooed as you looked up at him with wide eyes,

“But, but daddy I was almost there,” you whined, and he glared at you.

“Are you talking back?” he demanded, and you shook your head fervently, “Good bunny. Daddy always knows what’s best doesn’t he?”

You nodded quickly and he smiled, dropping you onto the bed and turning you onto your back, pulling your hips up and pushing your head down.

“Oh you’re such a cute bunny,” he muttered, twisting the plug secured in your ass, laughing when you moaned loudly, not used to the sensation. He tapped the end of it a few times as he got his hard cock back out, dragging the head through your folds.

You shivered at the sensation, still shaking from the orgasm that was ripped away from you. He pushed the head of his cock into your entrance slightly, one hand still stroking the white tail between your ass cheeks.

“Daddy please!” you whined, trying to push back as he moved his hand to grip the cuffs you were in.

“Such a desperate bunny,” he mocked as he watched you struggle to push him into your entrance, hips moving on their own accord. He decided to put you out of your misery, gripping your cuffs tightly as he pushed in, pulling you back to him.

You moaned loudly, never prepared for the intrusion of his monster cock. It always felt like he would never bottom out but soon enough he was pressed into the base, leaning over you to press dizzying kisses into you neck as he allowed you a few seconds to adjust to him. He reached a hand underneath you, pressing into your stomach where he could feel a slight bulge, groaning into your ear.

“Fuck bunny, you’re so small I can feel myself all the way in your cute tummy,” he cooed as you whined, tears falling already, even though he was yet to move. He pulled his hips back completely, leaving you feeling empty for half a second before he roughly shoved himself back in, groaning at the sound your achingly wet pussy created.

He sat back up, holding your hips as he began thrusting roughly in and out of you. You simply laid there, allowing him to use your body as he liked as you moaned into your sheets. He was so deep inside you, you could feel him hitting your cervix, the pleasure far outweighing any pain.

He was groaning above you, eyes focused on where your bodies met, and the cute tail protruding above it. Unable to stop himself he reached for it, tugging it gently as your whole body shook, moaning loudly.

“Are you going to cum bunny? Huh? You’ve been so needy all evening, just needed my cock so badly.” You couldn’t even reply, too cock drunk to form a coherent sentence. He slapped you ass, enamoured as it rippled under his palm.

“C’mon slut, speak up.” He spanked you again and you screamed out, seconds from your orgasm.

“I need to cum so badly daddy, please! Please let me cum,” you begged as he laughed behind you, delivering another particularly hard thrust before pulling from you completely, grinning when you swore. Your body was shining with sweat in the low light and Azriel kissed your shoulder lightly, tasting the salty skin.

“Hmm sorry bunny, not quite yet.” He muttered as you cried, pushing your hips further up, presenting yourself to him.

“Please daddy please, I need to cum,” you begged but he just laughed.

“Oh you will my sweet bunny,” he whispered, standing, and moving to the box and you watched with fearful eyes as he picked up the vibrator. “But I want to see how this works first.”

He moved back behind you, pushing into you slowly as you groaned in tandem. He started thrusting slowly making you shake, moaning when you heard the electrical buzz of your bullet vibrator. He pressed the small tool against your clit, hips speeding up as he flicked the switch higher, feeling the vibrations on his cock from where the vibrator was pressed against your clit.

“Oh fuck bunny, that’s powerful,” he groaned as you moaned, desperate for release. “You can cum bunny, don’t worry. Cum as much as you like.”

Too distracted by your orgasm you missed the change in tone as he kept thrusting into you through your orgasm, not pulling the vibrator away or finishing himself. Your legs shook violently as you rode through your orgasm only to feel another building just as quickly.

It only took a few more thrusts and you were coming again, screaming into the covers on your bed as Azriel groaned behind you at the feeling of your cunt tightening around his cock. But his thrusts didn’t slow, only growing sloppier as he threw you straight into your third orgasm, suddenly realising that you had maybe bargained for too much as he moved your body roughly.

Your legs were numb, and you were shaking all over, sobbing from the pleasure as Azriel started slowing, groaning behind you.

“Give me one more bunny, and I’ll fill you up, I promise. Last one bunny, c’mon I know you’ve got it in you.” He pleaded as you moaned, knowing you would anything to please him. You felt your fourth orgasm build and moaned lowly, voice hoarse as you came again, barely able to make a sound.

You vaguely heard Azriel moan behind you, filling you as you shook from the force of your orgasm, your body slumping as you lost consciousness.

When you came to less than a minute later, Azriel was hovering over you, eyebrows furrowed in worry.

“I’m sorry bunny, I was too harsh, are you okay?” you reached up and smoothed between his eyebrows with a soft smile growing on your face.

“I love you so much,” you muttered, and his shoulders relaxed, moving so he was laying on your back, pulling you into his arms.

“I love you more bunny, you’re perfect,” he kissed your head gently as you giggled.

“You’re going to have to carry me everywhere for a week or two though.” You joked as Azriel sat up and went about removing the plug and lingerie, wiping your sweaty skin down with a cool cloth.

“That was my plan sweetness,” he replied, eyes bright. “I also think you need to take me with you next time you go back, and we need to have a look in that shop.”

[akakeiiji]

HI!~ (THIS IS MY FIRST TINE REQUESTING AND IM REALLY EXCITED) Can I request a scenario where their smol s/o (I'm like 155 or 5'1 for reference) gets easily lost? Like they just wonder off on their own cause they think that he's still with them and she tends to leave her phone with him so calling to find her is out of the question??? (Me honestly IM SORRY FRIENDS AND FAMILY) She likes a lot of things so sometimes its hard to find her cause they never know where she is? Ushi, Tsuki and Bokuto-🌼

-`,✎ Ushijima, Tsukishima and Bokuto losing their short S/O in a crowd

THIS REQUEST IS JUST TOO ADORABLE AND IT HITS SO CLOSE TO HOME!! We’re the same height nonnie 🤧🤧✋ Short gang, where ya’ll at? 

Also I apparently don’t know how to read because I thought you requested for headcanons at first despite you clearly asking for scenarios so I decided to keep the hcs since I was already halfway done with them~ hope you don’t mind, nonnie! 

The man is literally built like the empire state building, he just towers over everyone, it’s insane

And then there you are behind him, all tiny and stuff, it’s so friggin adorable

He doesn’t really notice your height difference at all

Whenever people point it out, he just cocks his head with his eyebrows furrowed and is like “Yeah, I’m tall?? And they’re short?? Why are you reacting like that?”

He’s genuinely confused and doesn’t see why it’s a big deal at all

When he looks at you he doesn’t really pick up on itty bitty details like your height and stature; he just sees you for the whole you and sees you simply as this perfect deity that he loves

But he does appreciate the perks that come with it such as the way you feel when he hugs you after a match or the way you look up at him so adorably when you’re trying to get a kiss

He also didn’t realize the cons that came with having a tiny s/o

There are many but we’re focusing on the fact that it’s so easy to lose you in a crowd

He’ll literally look away for 0.5 seconds and when he looks back at you, you’re suddenly gone

He probably won’t notice for a bit but after a while, he’ll wonder why you aren’t holding onto his sleeve or hand anymore

Whenever this happens he usually goes about it in two ways; he’d either stay still where he is and let you find him (which isn’t hard, he sticks out like a sore thumb) or if enough time passes, he’ll retrace his steps and look for you himself

He’ll have a tiny little frown on his face since he gets so worried about you, like you’re so tiny what if you get trampled??

When he does find you though, the wide smile on your face when you catch sight of him honestly makes the search worth it

can you tell that I miss ushi so friggin much

The streets in downtown Tokyo are always so packed at this time of day. There were hundreds of people rushing to and from work, tourists taking in the sights, and busy shoppers such as yourself and Ushijima; you two had just finished shopping together and were heading to your favorite restaurant in the area as you always do to end your date night.

Your hand remained tightly wrapped around the hem of your boyfriend’s coat as you two made your way down the busy streets, struggling to not get pulled away as people continued to mercilessly push past you. You would have much rather held Ushijima’s hand but he insisted on carrying all your shopping bags and was rather preoccupied with them at that moment.

He marched on, oblivious to your struggles behind him. It was during times like this when you hated how short your legs were, you were practically jogging to keep up with your boyfriend who, to him, was only going at a leisurely pace.

Before you knew it, your hand had loosened and you suddenly lost hold of his coat. You looked up, hoping to find him just a few feet away, but he had disappeared into the sea of people all around you.

Ushijima hadn’t noticed anything at first, he was too focused on where he was going to realize that the little tugs on the hem of his coat throughout the journey were suddenly gone. He looked down at both his hands and placed the shopping bags on one of them to the other so that he could use it to hold your own.

He held out his free hand behind him, calling out your name, and motioned for you to grab it. A few seconds went by of him gesturing like this only to be met with no response.

He looked back, eyebrows furrowed, only to find no sign of you.

Ushijima immediately stops in his tracks, eyes widening ever so slightly as he did a little 360 turn in his spot, raking over the crowds rushing past him in hopes he’d find your familiar head of hair bouncing about.

He stood motionless where he was, forcing people to walk around him—most wanted to tell him off for standing in the middle of the street but no one had the balls to.

A few minutes went by and he began walking down the direction he came from looking everywhere for you. Worry began to bubble in him when you were still nowhere to be found but suddenly he saw a figure waving at him from afar.

You were standing on top of those small cement blocks on the bottom street lights, waving your free hand that wasn’t wrapped around the lamp towards your boyfriend, grinning ear to ear when you met eyes with him.

Ushijima smiled in relief, shoulders relaxing as he made his way over to you. You met him halfway, immediately wrapping your arms around him in a hug, burying your face into his chest.

“I’m never letting go of your hand next time.” He said, pressing a chaste kiss on the top of your head before interlocking your fingers together. You laughed, nodding in agreement. “Definitely not.”

We all already know this: Kei is fucking ruthless

It doesn’t matter that you’re dating. It doesn’t matter that you’re literally his favorite person in the world tho he’ll never admit this to you you will not be free from his savageness

No one is more hyper-aware of your height difference than he is and no one teases you more than him

Tsukishima is literally the type to steal your things and hold them over your head or he’ll purposefully stand at full height whenever you want to kiss him just so that he can watch you struggle

“Oh, babe, I didn’t see you from down there.”

Is the type to purposefully put things you use all the time up on the top shelves in cupboards and cabinets

He says that he does this to annoy but really he does this so that you can call him to help you since he banned you from climbing the counters 🤧✋

He really loves your height though as much as he likes to tease you for it

He loves how easy it is to wrap his arms around you and how you burrow into his chest whenever you hug

His favorite thing about your height is probably the fact that it’s so comfortable being the big spoon with you since you fit so snuggly against him 🥺

again he’ll never tell you this, my man is tight-lipped

However he can get very protective over you, it’s like he developed this idea in this head that small = fragile

So whenever he loses track of you in a crowd (which happens a lot, it's honestly embarrassing) he immediately drops everything and searches for you

He’ll have this permanent pout on his face as he retraces his steps, going back to wherever you two were and keeping an eye out for either you or places that would catch your eye

Once he finally catches you, he’d sigh in relief and immediately put up his “i’m annoyed right now, give me attention” face and head over to you, knocking your head with his knuckles lightly

He’d lecture you a bit about staying close to him and he’d spend the rest of your time out with his eye on you and with his hand tightly wrapped around your own

The mall was always so crowded during the weekend especially now that Christmas was just around the corner. Tsukishima told you that you two should visit the mall later during the week but you were just so excited to see this new movie, he simply couldn’t say no; he cursed himself for being so tightly wrapped around your finger.

The building was already pretty full when you two entered the cinema but when you two emerged, it was as if the number of people there seemed to double in just a span of a few hours.

As you two made your way through the tight-knit crowds of people, the frown on Tsukishima’s face never left as people kept pushing and rushing past him. He called out your name behind him and said, “See, I told you we should have come after the weekend, it’s like half the city is here right now.”

He waited for your usual giggle or scoff, maybe a light smack on his arm as you tell him to brighten up but there wasn’t any of that.

“(Y/N)? Did you hear me? I—(Y/N?),” He turned around, worried that you may have been upset at him but instead was surprised to find that you weren’t trailing along behind him like he expected you to be.

He turned around fully, hands coming out of his pocket as he raked his eyes over the crowds of people around him. It would be nearly impossible to find you here, there were probably hundreds of people in the mall now.

Tsukishima groaned slightly as he ran a hand through his locks, his other hand going into his pant pocket to ring your phone only to realize that it was with him as well, right next to his. This elicited a second groan from the blonde.

Knowing you, you probably got distracted by something and wandered away from him.

He retraced his steps, keeping a close eye on his surroundings. He had no idea when you wandered away from him so you could have been anywhere. He stood at full height, towering over the majority of the crowd, and scanned the entirety of the floor and the shops on it.

He entered a few stores he knew you’d most likely visit; the bookstore, the pet store, and a shop that was having a 50% sale but he found no traces of you.

Tsukishima was about to give up and head to the information desk and ask them to announce something on the loudspeaker to grab your attention—probably something along the lines of “To the small gremlin wandering around floor three right now, please meet Tsukishima Kei at the main exit.”—when he spotted a bright store on the other side of the floor.

You were there. He just knew it.

He rolled his eyes as he made his way to the anime store and low and behold, there you were, crouching as you stared at the shelves of anime merchandise, a wide ear to ear grin on your face.

Tsukishima sighed and lightly smacked you, tearing you away from your thoughts and making you look up at him in shock.

“You are such an idiot, (Y/N).” You only laughed in response and wrapped your arms around his waist and pressed your face onto his chest. “Aww, Kei! Were you worried about me?”

“Of course, I was. How do you expect me to feel?” He said with another roll of his eyes. He brought his hand up and placed it on top of your head. “I was worried someone thought you were a child and kidnapped you.”

You let out an indignant gasp and started to smack him but he only laughed and took your hand in his, dragging you out of the store behind him ignoring your protests.

Nobody in the whole entire world thinks you’re more adorable than Bokuto

He adores the fact that you’re so tiny, he likes you call you his pocket-sized s/o  

He never really teases you, instead he always coos and coddles you

He especially loves lifting you up in his arms and twirling you around, he always does this after winning a game and it always leaves you feeling dizzy

But you never complain bc who would complain about being hugged by Kou like that 🤧✋

However, as much as Bokuto loves how smol you are, he always kinda forgets that you’re short??

It’s because he’s always surrounded by tall people; his friends, the volleyball team, etc.

So he always forgets to adjust when he’s with you

And you know how some people just naturally walk really really fast, like they can’t help it, it’s just how they walk normally??

Yeah, that’s Bokuto

And this paired with the fact that he is literally 6’1 means he practically travels at light speed

Your tiny legs can barely keep up with your excitable boyfriend and you’re always practically jogging to keep up with him so if you take your eyes off of him for even just a few seconds he’ll probably run off somewhere and disappear 😔✋

This occurs so often when you two are out that you’re never shocked whenever it happens

It takes a few minutes before Bokuto realizes that he’s suddenly alone in a crowd and that you aren’t beside him like he thought you would be

AND IM SORRY BUT THE FIRST THING HE’LL DO IS JUST YELL OUT YOUR NAME REPEATEDLY AT FULL VOLUME WITH NO SHAME WHATSOEVER

“(Y/N)!! WHERE ARE YOU??”

Everyone around him would give him looks but he wouldn’t care, he just needs to find you fast or he’ll start panicking tho he lowkey already is

Some people would think that he’s looking for his kid but nah, he’s just looking for his smol s/o who would show up beside him after a while with a disgruntled look on their face

It never takes long for you two to reunite when you get separated, you just have to wait for the distinctive voice of your boyfriend yelling for you somewhere

When you two find each other, the first thing he’ll do is pull you into a tight hug, usually lifting you up from the ground as he presses a few kisses on your cheeks in relief

He’ll remember to walk slowly for the rest of the time you’re out, usually with his arm over your shoulder or with his hand tightly wrapped around your own

It made absolutely no sense to you that Bokuto literally grew up in the city yet has never visited the amusement park in the area before. You’ve visited the park countless times before but for your boyfriend, it was a first.

Bokuto was practically bouncing with excitement ever since you proposed the idea of visiting the amusement park together and it only got more intense as the day of your visit grew closer and closer.

You somewhat regretted not pushing your date to a later day in the week so that it didn’t fall on the weekend since the park was so packed but that feeling quickly dissipated when you glanced at your beaming boyfriend beside you.

What you did regret however was the fact that you didn’t wear more comfortable shoes, ones that were more fitting for exercise rather than leisurely walks since you were practically running around the park just to keep up with Bokuto.

His hand remained tightly clasped on your own as he sprinted all around the park, looking at all the rides, food stands, and gift shops around the place. He wasn’t really running, he was simply walking at a quick pace but this coupled with his long legs made it so difficult to match his pace with your significantly shorter ones.

You two had just gotten off a rather intense roller coaster and you felt your head spin from how dizzy it made you, you halted in your steps as Bokuto was about to begin running towards another ride making Bokuto stop as well as he was pulled back by your hand which was still holding onto his.

“Koutarou, let me rest for a bit,” You said as you sat on a bench in the shade, Bokuto immediately nodded and took a seat beside you, he handed you a bottle of water from his bag. “Sure babe, here drink this.”

After a few minutes of talking and resting under the shade, you stood up, reinvigorated, and filled with more energy. “Okay, let’s go, I’m feeling much better now,”

Bokuto immediately jumped onto his feet and beamed at you, more than ready for another round of rollercoasters and thrilling rides. He held out his hand for you to take and you two headed farther into the park.

“Let’s go on the Viking ride next—wait, hold on, let me fix this.” You let go of your boyfriend’s hand and began adjusting the overpriced headband on your head; Bokuto insisted on buying matching ones at the gift shop despite their ridiculous price (“Look, it’s just so adorable!”)

When you looked up, ready to grab ahold of his hand again, Bokuto was suddenly nowhere to be seen.

You whipped your head all around you but you couldn’t see the familiar head of hair of your boyfriend in the horde of people around you. You stood on your tiptoes, craning your head to get a better view but that didn’t do anything to help. You feel back on your feet and huffed; curse you and your short stature.

You walked down the direction you two were originally headed at, raking your eyes over the crowds of people you walked past when you suddenly heard a familiar voice yelling out your name from a distance. You whipped your head towards the direction of the voice and began to jog towards it.

Bokuto was standing on his tiptoes, his hands cupping his mouth as he called out for you over and over again, oblivious to the looks of shock from the people around him.

As he was about to scream out your name for the dozenth time, you suddenly pushed your way through the people around him and grabbed ahold of his arm, an exasperated yet also relieved look on your face.

Bokuto’s face immediately lit up, the small frown on his lips turning into a large smile as he wrapped his arms around you. He pressed you into his chest and lifted you off the ground as he usually does when he hugs you.

You giggled and flailed around as he did this, when he placed you back safely on the ground, he placed a small kiss on your forehead.

“Sorry for leaving you behind,” Bokuto said as he laced his fingers onto your own, “It won’t happen again,”

You scoffed playfully and let yourself be dragged along by him, “That’s what you said last time, Kou.”

[ladyvesuvia]

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@justadreamyhufflepuff: GSJSVSKSBSJD BABY CONGRATS- CAN I PLEASE GET A 🎠 -> Harry potter + soft love + fluff + prompts 9, 10, 32, 42 from prompt list 1. || for my 300 followers celebration

Prompts:

9. “You took all the pillows so I’m using you as one.”

10. “Stop moving and let me braid your hair.”

32. “Make a wish!”

42. “Darling I love you and all, but please step out of the kitchen.”

Pairing: Harry Potter x Fem!Reader

Summary: Moving into your new house with Harry.

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: fluff but with slight and subtle mentions of sexual activities + let me know if i missed anything!

A/N: omg yay harry fluff :DDD ok sorry go ahead btw this hasn’t been proofread yet mbad

After years of setting things up, they could finally move into their house. Of course, there were some parts of it that still needed fixing but they’ll eventually work it out. Right now, they wanted to bask in the comfort and triumph of their own house.

“Got your key?” said [Y/N], holding out her own key. She had already attached a duck keychain to it.

“Got it,” replied Harry, showing her his own. They both sniggered at his ridiculous bathtub keychain, which looked undeniably out of place but she was glad for it nonetheless. See, she had bought it years ago when they first talked about getting a house. “Will you do the honors?”

“You know, we could easily Alohomora the heck out of this bas —”

“Do the honors,” he teasingly urged, poking her on the waist where her tickle spot was and she recoiled. “Do it, [Y/L/N].”

“Ha! I’m Potter now, too. Ergo you’re not so special anymore,” she said as she marched up the raised porch. It was a lovely sight indeed — she could already imagine inviting the others to come over: roasting marshmallows either here or at the backyard and such. She giddily walked towards the door. This is it, she thought. “Wait, this is unfair. You carry me as you open it so I’ll be like a pretty wife.”

“That you are,” said Harry as he scooped her up into his arms. She let out a whoop of approval, patting his cheek as he put the key in and swung the door open.

All their boxes were on the floor already, with a lot more scattered all over the house. “Ooh, this is a lot of work. Wanna sleep it off?” she yawned, kicking some boxes aside on her way to the stairs. “What, you gonna protest, Mr. Potter?”

“Not at all, Mrs. Potter,” said Harry, and they both stopped and looked at each other, eyes narrowed while scrutinizing the name. “Mrs. Potter.”

“Does it sound a bit weird to you? I mean, no offense. I mean, I’ve waited for this half of my life but — you know?

“Yeah, like, [Y/N] Potter,” he said again, making arm gestures as if parting a curtain. She started to laugh. “I see what you mean.”

“You look like a . . . getching shooba driver but on land,” she said with a yawn.

“A what?” This time, Harry was the one stifling his laughter.

“Glitching scuba diver on land,” spat [Y/N], taking off her jacket. When she saw he’d been eyeing her with a dazed expression on his face, she made a show of getting off her right jacket sleeve with a suggestive smile on her face. “Wait, uh, can’t get it off. Sweat, I think. Help?”

“Will do, will do,” said Harry, approaching her and reaching out to pull it off her with a tight smile in an awful attempt to keep his laughter.

“Whatever. Can we sleep now, please? Where’s our bed again?”

“There,” he pointed somewhere in the kitchen room.

“I thought our room was upstairs?”

“Our room is upstairs, the bed is here.”

“Why would that be the ca—oh, no. D’we really have to assemble it?” she whined. They had to travel by Muggle transportation due to issues with the Floo network and they wanted to minimize suspicion, and the it was finally taking its toll on their entire energy: [Y/N]’s back was cramping from the long ride, Harry’s head was already hurting like hell. To make matters worse, neighbors were peeking through their windows so they had to go inside immediately.

“No, we can just bring the mattress up and assemble it all tomorrow, yeah?”

“Oh, yeah,” she said with a moan, tossing the jacket on the kitchen counter. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Oh, are we — ?” He shrugged hesitantly.

“No! I mean, do you want to? Now?”

“Do you?” The two chuckled nervously. They were standing there for probably around half a minute or one when the doorbell dinged and the two of them jumped. [Y/N] volunteered to get it.

A woman younger than her for about a year stood in front of her doorstep when she swung the door open, carrying a tiny baby probably about a few months old in her arms. [Y/N] managed a friendly smile as she wiped away a drop of sweat from her forehead.

“Hi, welcome to the neighborhood. I’m Karolina Martin. I live right across and I brought you something!”

“The . . . baby?” [Y/N]’s shoulders tensed as she thought about this over an over until she realized that was highly unlikely.

“No! You’re hilarious, though. I like you. I actually came here to give you” — the woman put down a bag she hung over her shoulder down on the floor — “this.”

Inside was a basket with a bottle of what [Y/N] could only assume was fine wine or champagne or whatever it was couples with a number of chocolates and cookies inside. She realized with a start there was also a pot inside.

[Y/N] laughed, holding up the pot. “Funny, because we’re Potters?” she asked, setting it back down again.

“You are?” Karolina said, impressed. “So which do you suggest I should start with first? Stoneware or earthenware? Ooh, what about fire clay?”

It took a few seconds before [Y/N] realized the direction of the conversation. “Oh! Well, heh, not that kind of potter.”

Karolina flinched, eyeing [Y/N] with suspicion. “You smoke — ?”

“No! Not that kind of potter. We don’t smoke po��Sorry, that’s on me, I should have clarified. I’m [Y/N],” she said. Karolina still looked confused. Composing herself, she managed a tight smile. “[Y/N] Potter.”

“Oh! Oh, my goodness. I’m so sorry!” Karolina chuckled. “I was a bit confused, I’m really sorry. I haven’t met someone around here about my age.”

“Don’t worry about it. Thanks for the welcoming gift, by the way. I just moved in with my . . . husband.” It still sounded surreal to call Harry that way, but she liked it all the same. Her eyes fell on the chubby little kid.

“Right! This is baby Sydney, she’s turning six months old next week. Would be really nice if you and your husband could come — and kid or kids, if you have some?” Maybe it was the coos the baby made or her adorable eyes and hints of two teeth growing, but [Y/N] felt intimidated by the little kid. She was bigger than she thought babies would be. Is this what she’d push through her bottom? She shuddered. “Do you . . . want to hold her?” asked Karolina, oblivious to the thoughts going on in [Y/N]’s heads.

“Listen, I’m really grateful you stopped by but we’re kinda tired. I’m so, so, sorry! Thank you a lot for these stuff. We’ll definitely come by next week — me and Harry, just Harry and me.” [Y/N] chuckled nervously again, smiling at the baby.

“I totally understand. Me and Joey were also very tired when we first moved in, hence Sydney.” Karolina laughed. [Y/N] simply chimed in the laughter as well, not wanting to jeopardize a newfound friendship over a joke. “Have a lovely evening, [Y/N]. I’ll see you around!”

When she shut the door with the bag over her shoulder, she jumped in fright at the sight of Harry just behind the door with an amused grin on his face. “What?” said [Y/N] as she rubbed her eyes.

“Husband?” he mused. When she shot him a glare saying not to push it further, he resorted to giggling. “Sorry, my wife.”

“Shut up, Harry,” she said. “Now, where’s that damned mattress?”

“Worry not, I got it upstairs already, all we gotta do now is take a quick shower and go to bed.”

After they finished dressing into more comfortable clothes, they made it a point to plop down as hard as they could on the mattress. To her relief, Harry had settled a plain white bedsheet on top of it earlier while she was talking to Karolina. She was the first to jump in, stretching her legs all over. “Finally!” she exclaimed.

“Your turn,” she said, pointing at a spot right next to her. Harry took off his glasses and was about to jump in next when she asked where the pillows were.

“Er — Accio pillow!” She could hear the sound of boxes moving downstairs bumping each other when a pillow came hurtling in and landed on Harry’s chest, forcing him to plop down on the mattress.

A shrill squeak sounded, and the two of them froze. [Y/N] narrowed her eyes, pointing her finger at him in accusation. “Did you fart?”

“No, we just still haven’t removed the plastic from the mattress.”

“You want to remove it?” she suggested, ready to get up and get her own wand when Harry gently nudged her back down.

“Okay, where’s my wand?“

[Y/N] looked left and right until she found it tying on an old bedside table he managed to set down earlier that day and said, “There! Bedside table.”

“Eh.”

“Agreed, let’s just say you did fart.”

“Agreed,” said Harry, who unconsciously wrapped his legs and arms around the pillow on top of him and closed his eyes to sleep. [Y/N] was quick to act. Not to take his pillow, but to turn him into one — metaphorically, of course. She laughed at the thought of using Transfiguration to turn Harry into a literal pillow.

Just as he wrapped his limbs around the only pillow, [Y/N] did the same to him. He woke up with a jolt, but did not take her off him. “I’m the little spoon?” he asked with a smile.

“Yes, and I happen to like little spoons a lot,” she said casually. Harry turned his head in her direction, with a wide grin on his pretty face. “Okay, that sounded wrong. It’s just that you hogged the only pillow so now I’m using you as one.”

“Well, do you want it?” he offered obliviously.

“Nope, I like this set-up. Go back to sleep.”

And he did — they both did. At some point during the night, they turned each other into a pillow. Harry, however, awoke to the sound of her snoring. It wasn’t like his Uncle Vernon’s, though. Looking at her face seemed to dull it all out. It wasn’t exactly an endearing sound, but the sight of her was more than so — tousled hair, mouth slightly open. . . . With one last smile on his face as he watched her sleep, he felt himself drifting off into a deep slumber.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

A loud clanging from downstairs awoke Harry. Had he overslept? He found that his back ached whenever he did so much as move, but knew better than to bide his time if there was danger nearby. He reached out to the bedside table to grab his wand, but realized he had to put his glasses on first.

Harry ran downstairs, clutching his wand tightly with his outstretched hand as he listened for anything there was to hear. He paused. A stranger walked out of the kitchen, and he pointed his wand at them.

The stranger held their hands up with a bewildered look on their face until [Y/N] came out of the kitchen all sweaty with a frilly apron. “Harry!” she cried in bewilderment at the sight of him pointing his wand at their new neighbor. “Alright, uh, Karolina, this is my husband, Harry; Harry — stop pointing your . . . stick at her — this is our neighbor who lives across from us, Karolina.”

“Er — hello, Karolina. Sorry about the wa—” [Y/N] shot him a dirty look. “—ander. Wander. Sorry about the bad . . . wandering. You know what? I just woke up on the wrong side of bed and I got paranoid with the . . . new house and all.”

“He tends to get jumpy,” said [Y/N] in hopes of wrapping this up immediately. “Anyway, five minutes left till it’s done. Thank you so, so much for the help, Karol! One last thing, for the whipped cream, do I. . .”

He then noticed that some of the furniture were already arranged such as the sofa and the dining table. Some cabinets were decorated with non-magical framed pictures of them. Harry begged to disagree, though. Each picture there was more than just ma— Is that a baby? Sleeping in a car seat on their couch?

Harry blinked. It stirred, eyes fluttering open. Harry was now holding his breath in anticipation. It was watching him curiously. When he did not move, the little thing started to giggle. Smiling sheepishly back, he made a show of raking his hand through his hair and walking into the kitchen.

It was still messy, but the fridge was on now, and some condiments were put where they belonged.

Karolina was washing a bowl on the sink when the baby outside started crying. She washed her hands quick and ran out, excusing herself while smiling apologetically at the two of them.

[Y/N] opened the oven, pulling out something that smelled of a scent that made Harry’s mouth water.

“Is that Treacle Tart?” he blurted out.

[Y/N] almost dropped the pan of delight she held in her mittened hands. She cleared her throat in an attempt to maintain her composure as she set it down on the counter and pulled off her mittens. Still panting, she looked at him and said, “Harry, darling, I love you and all but please step out of the kitchen.”

“Sorry,” he muttered as he pressed a kiss against her head.

“Don’t do that, my hair stinks. I haven’t showered yet,” said [Y/N].

“What do you mean? It smells just fine.”

“Yeah? Well, it’s greasy. Is it greasy?”

“Yeah, you kinda look like Snape from where I’m standing. Ow! Sorry, bad joke. Okay, keep doing what you’re doing while I. . .” he trailed off as he grabbed her wrist gingerly and pulled off the scrunchie off it and started braiding her hair whilst she shook the whipped cream. “Could you just stop moving and let me braid your hair?”

“Oh, shut up! This tart’s for you, anyway.”

“So it is a Treacle Tart?”

“Uh, Doy,” she said mockingly. “It’s for your birthday, genius.”

“But it isn’t till next month,” said Harry.

“Eh, well, thought we could spend some time together in our new house without a crowd for a while. Why’re you even braiding my hair?”

“That baby got me thinking about it,” said Harry, as the child’s sobs started to cease. “You know, like . . . do you think we’re ready?”

“Well, what will be, will be.” She squeezed whipped cream on each side, scanning the final product with narrowed eyes. Harry tied the poorly-done braid with the scrunchie, letting her hair fall down to her back. [Y/N] turned to him. “Honestly, I’m kind of scared about the whole thing, you know? Like, aside from the . . . bloody pushing, it’ll be a huge responsibility. And I want to know if you’re up for it.”

“Okay,” he found himself saying so casually.

“Okay?” [Y/N] repeated to him, with an expression the combination of excitement and disbelief. “Okay as in, ‘okay let’s start trying?’”

“Okay, yes! Let’s start trying now!”

“Okay, but not right now, though,” said [Y/N] under her breath.

“Why not?” he said. Merlin, I have to stop.

“For one, Karolina’s right there at the doorway with Sydney.”

Harry shifted his gaze from [Y/N] to Karolina, who was now trying hard to stifle her laugh with a sleeping Sydney in her arms. “Okay, I’m gonna pretend I didn’t just hear that,” she said with a suggestive smile. “I’ll get going now, [Y/N], Harry.”

“Oh, you won’t try the Treacle Tart out?” called out [Y/N].

“Nah, we’ve eaten a lot of that already. We’re having cheesecake for tonight. Anyway, see you two.” With a friendly wave, she went off her way, leaving the two of them alone in their house.

Harry expected her to berate him, but she was already facing him with a slice of a tart resting neatly on a plate with a lousy candle set in the middle of it. “Make a wish,” she told him.

“Uh. . . I’m bad at wishes, you know that.”

“Then wish to be better at making wishes then make a better wish next month,” she said.

“Okay, I wish to be better at making wishes,” said Harry before blowing the candle out. [Y/N] pulled off the candle and lead him to the living room, where she put down the pan and separated the entire thing to put it on an adorable floral plate she loved.

“Happy super advanced birthday, Just Harry,” said [Y/N], kissing his head this time. “Have some Treacle Tart. I tried, okay?” Laughing, she put a fork on his plate and went to slice one for herself.

“Thank you, soft love,” said Harry as he helped himself to his slice. “Merlin, this is per—”

[Y/N] bursted into laughter, a couple crumbs spitting on the table. She had to get a tissue and wipe the table as she bellowed. “What’d you say?”

“Soft . . . love. Does that mean something bad?”

“No, no, no. It’s just funny to hear it from you. Say it again,” she said, resting her elbow on the top rail of a chair, eager to hear him.

“Soft love?” said Harry hesitantly.

“Oh my— Who told you to say that? Where’d you learn that?” choked [Y/N], wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. “Okay, sorry.”

“Er — you see, before we left to go here, Ron told me to experiment with . . . pet names.”

“So you delivered?”

“Do you not like it?” said Harry, his fork frozen in mid-air.

“Oh, I do. I so do,” she replied, chuckling. “I’ve had enough of tough love, I could use some soft love. But d’you know what it means?”

When Harry shook his head, she took one step forward to run her hand through his hair, grinning. “Means you accept all flaws instead of trying to build up a wall just to better and correct those flaws.”

“Then what’s so funny?” he asked with genuine curiosity rather than annoyance.

“Oh, Harry. Nothing! I just find you trying new stuff very, very amusing. Moving in here was a good choice, you know. Now I get to find out new things about you,” said [Y/N].

Harry smiled back, his cheeks a tad warmer than usual. “So which do you prefer? Tough love or soft love?”

“Eh, a relationship can’t work with just one of the two. Both works. Now eat your slice before we get working on this house,” said [Y/N] as she snapped her fingers, picking up her own plate and savoring her own work. “Chop chop.”

“You mean home?”

“Yep, I mean home,” answered [Y/N] without any hesitation. Oh, and, just one small update: they didn’t remove the plastic wrap of the mattress until next week.

Taglist: @gingerale2017 @maybanksslut @hey-there-angels @mrzweasley @gwlvr @booksarealwaysbettersworlds-blog @greenlyblue @henqtic @meiitanoia @badass-yn @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts

[zodiakuroo]

copycat

18+, eren jaeger x fem!reader

part two of pierced

inspired by the 'big stick' scene from jawbreaker (iykyk)

wc: 3.7k

contains: mild dubcon, light dom/sub, ball play, choking, dumbification, degradation, spit, creampie

Eren can’t help but admire you from the doorway of your shared bedroom. One would think, that after 30 days of edging, you would learn not to be such a fucking tease. But here you are flitting around the kitchen in nothing but one of his t-shirts and a frilly pair of lilac panties.

‘Stop being a perv. It’s hot out.’ You don’t have to say it. The ‘you’ in his head is already chastising him for the lascivious nature of his thoughts.

The ‘you’ in his head is also already bent over the granite top counter, panties long discarded, presenting yourself to him, begging ‘Please Eren. Fuck me.’

He can’t help it. Everyday he’s found himself face to face with your cute little pussy, absolutely begging to get filled and not being able to do anything about it. It’s not his fault that when he sees you wearing next to nothing, he just wants to stick his cock in you.

Except it’s entirely his fault.

That’s why even though you can feel the weight of his stare as you move around the kitchen, you don’t even spare a glance in his direction.

If there’s one thing these last few weeks have taught you, its willpower. And thanks to your newfound self-discipline you’re able to resist the urge to pounce on him when your boyfriend pulls your back against the solid wall of his chest. “Baby.” He rasps. “I’m all healed up.”

The statement makes goosebumps appear on your skin despite the sweltering heat but other than that, you show no signs of exactly how pent up you are.

Eren made you swear not to touch yourself whining about how unfair it would be and how he would really appreciate your support in his hour of need. Yes he used those exact words. You kept your promise but not without intending to receive payback. It was only a matter of how. The idea hadn’t come to you yet.

“Really?” You don’t even bother to turn around, pushing past him. Partly as a way to tease him but also because you don’t trust yourself to be able to resist him once you get a good look at him. From his scent alone you can tell he’s fresh from a shower and that’s when he’s the most dangerous. He smells cool and fresh like his shower gel, spicy and warm like his aftershave and fruity and floral like his your shampoo. It’s hypnotic.

The trance is broken when he pulls you even closer to him, grinding his bulge into your backside.

“Stop buying that 2-in-1 shit if you’re gonna use mine all the time anyways.” You grumble.

Right.

Revenge first. Dick second. The voice in your head reminds you.

You wriggle out of his hold, remembering why you came into the kitchen in the first place. You breathe a sigh of relief as you open the freezer door, the cold air providing a brief reprieve from the near suffocating heat of your apartment. Once you’ve obtained your target; a cherry popsicle hidden behind some ice packs and frozen peas, you finally take a look at your tormentor.

“Babe c’mon.” Eren persists.

He looks good. Unfairly good considering the fact that he’s not even trying. Fresh from the shower, he has on a worn out white t-shirt, stretched around the neckline which gives you a mouthwatering look at his perfectly sculpted collarbones and no more than the top of his pecs that peak out above the seam. His grey athletic shorts hang low on his hips and outline his print a little too well so you know he’s not wearing boxers. Eren hasn’t bothered to tie up his long hair leaving the damp tendrils dangling above his shoulders with a few stray strands framing his handsome face. He’s putting up a nonchalant front but the tick in his eyebrow gives his irritated disposition away.

Surely he didn’t believe that you would let him have his way with you that easily.

Except he did. Because under most circumstances he would. But today, your own stubbornness (only marginally) drowns out your desire for your Adonis of a boyfriend so you push past him into the lounge, plopping down on the couch with a dramatic sigh.

“Later.” You bring the frozen treat to your lips. “It’s so hot.” Again, Eren tries to keep his face expressionless but you easily spot the way he clenches his jaw as his gaze fixes itself onto your mouth.

Bingo

You close your eyes, enjoying the sweet cherry taste and cool sensation that spreads throughout your body.

“On second thought,” You start, as a mischievous grin spreads across your face. “There is something else I’d rather have in my mouth.”

“Yeah?” Eren dons a matching smirk and stalks his way over to you, sitting down so that you can straddle him. “Tempting but honestly, your mouth isn’t what I had in mind.” His voice trails off, large hands moving down to cup your ass, giving the soft flesh a squeeze for good measure. But before he can take it any further you’re already manoeuvring your way between his knees.

“Oh. You don’t want me to suck your cock?” You pout, resting your head against his thigh, trying your best to sound disappointed.

Eren swallows whatever argument he was about to present when he sees your pretty eyes, shaded by fluttering lashes looking up at him with the tip of the crimson popsicle pressed against your sinful mouth. The same sinful mouth he’s been dreaming about for a month.

Fuck.

“Yeah, okay.” He grumbles while you watch him pull his already half hard cock out of his bottoms. It’s so pretty and long, perfectly thick in all the right places, decorated at the tip with a vertical running titanium barbell.

He’s got a hand around his base, waiting for you to replace the sweet treat in your mouth with his aching cock but much to his dismay your attention is drawn a little lower.

The sight of his plush balls all swollen and full of cum proves to be too much for you to resist. He shudders when your cold lips press against the taut skin. You know he’s sensitive from being so backed up. That’s why he starts panting as you leave wet kisses on his sac, leaving your saliva all over it while his shaft grows harder above you.

“Hold this for me.” You pass him your popsicle, that is slowly starting to melt which he takes in his free hand.

“Okay can you just- fuck.” One more kiss, right on the shiny metal of his newly healed piercing, shuts him up quickly.

Your own hands find their place on his thighs. You dip your head down again and take one of his balls in his mouth massaging it with your tongue.

“Christ.” He groans, slowly jerking himself off while you worship his balls.

“Oh poor baby…. so full.” You murmur letting go of the left to suck on the right one, savouring the weight of them.

“Yeah.” His voice is about a whole octave higher than usual. “Hurts.” He scrunches up his face when you let go of his ball with a pop.

“I bet.” You giggle. Eren is now at full mast, veiny shaft resting against his abdomen, dribbling precum which coats the shiny piercing that crowns his angry-red tip. His wrist flicks ever so elegantly as his hand moves languidly up and down, up and down, up and-”

“Princess.” Your boyfriend whines, yanking you out of your daze. “Enough with the teasing. You wanted to suck me off. Do it already.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, not losing sight of your revenge plot.

“Baby,” You pout. “I really want to but-” It’s so hard to bite back your laugh. “But I don’t remember how.”

“Wait what?” His hand stops right in his tracks, brows furrowed in confusion.

“It’s been so long. Can you show me?”

Eren’s expression goes from perplexed to vicious but you don’t budge, blinking up at him with wide innocent eyes.

“How?” He huffs impatiently. It’s funny actually, seeing him struggle to tolerate a fraction of his own bitter medicine.

Your eyes shift to the frozen treat still in his hand that’s starting to drip down his knuckles. “I’m a visual learner.”

He moves like he’s about to stand up but you won’t make it that easy for him. “Please, Rennie? Please teach me how to suck your cock?”

As much as Eren has you wrapped around his finger, he’s just as whipped for you. So when you look at him with those sparkly eyes and call him the pet name he swears he hates but brings him to his knees when you use it, you know you have him.

Hook, line and sinker.

You use your thumb and middle finger to make a circle around his base, positioning yourself eye level with his leaking slit.

His tongue peaks out cautiously, eyes trained on yours as he flicks it across the tip, testing the waters. Immediately you follow suit, tasting his precum for the first time in so long. His hips buck off the couch, chasing the gone-too-soon sensation but you dig your nails into his thigh, reminding him who’s in control right now.

You quirk your brow at him, making sure he understands what you want.

How many times have you found yourself in this exact position: sitting between your boyfriend’s thighs while he looks down at you, both of you equally as lust drunk as the other. But this time he’s the one panting and whimpering while you have your turn to torture him.

Eren doesn’t like it. Not one bit. He wants to smack that smug little grin right off your face but instead he pulls at your hair, tugging right at the roots and making you yelp in pain. Now you’re scowling. But it’s hard to look at all intimidating sitting beneath him with your head tilted at such an awkward angle. He doesn’t miss the way your thighs clench together either.

Never breaking eye contact, he uses the flat of his tongue to lick a broad stripe up the length of the popsicle. You squirm in place, remembering how it feels to have him lick across your cunt exactly like that.

Fine. He’d play along with your little game. But on his own terms.

You lean forward to copy him but the hand holding your head keeps you in place. Without looking away, Eren launches a glob of spit onto the already drippy ice-cream before licking it away. It’s that simple for him to put a crack in your domineering façade and have you whimpering right at his feet as per usual.

The corners of his lips twitch as a silent challenge to you.

Never one to back down, you use your tongue to trace the vein that runs along the underside of his cock, feeling it pulsate. As you get closer to his prince Albert, you can’t hold back from swirling the wet muscle around the cold metal.

A soft whimper escapes his lips as you pull away, keeping your mouth agape, looking up at him expectantly.

It’s silent for a moment before Eren realises what you’re wordlessly pleading for. “Fucking slut.” He mutters, almost amazed before he gathers more of his saliva to drop into your mouth with a loud khwa pto echoing throughout the quiet apartment.

You close your mouth with a satisfied smile, savouring the taste of sweet, tart cherry and a flavour that is uniquely Eren, letting it mingle with your own saliva before spitting it on to his cock. You use your tongue to spread the wetness all along the shaft, leaving it covered in slick sheen.

“So fuckin’ nasty.” He groans, moving his hand from your head to push his own hair out of his face, not wanting anything to obstruct his view of you right now.

You feel the way his thigh twitches under your palm every time you come even close to his puffy cockhead and your tongue brushes across the sensitive piercing. The idea that you have him like this, desperate and whining, after weeks of him toying with you is exhilarating to say the least.

You have to rein yourself in before you end the fun too soon.

Reluctantly, you pull away and patiently await your next command.

You know what he wants next and so does he but Eren can’t help but feel self-conscious.

Of course, he loves the way you look when you’re going down him. His gallery is filled with pictures of you with your eyes filled to the brim with tears and your lips stretched impossibly wide around his girth. When you’re not around he gets off to the videos him fucking your face, relishing in the way you gag while you try to accommodate him in your throat. He doesn’t think he could ever measure up to how sexy you look with your pupils blown, lips all swollen and your spit dripping down your chin.

But just like you, he’s never been one to back down from a challenge.

Ever so slowly, he opens his mouth and latches on to the blunt top of the popsicle. His plump lips form a perfect O-shaped pout, stained beautiful crimson from the fruit juice. Your gaze is transfixed on his face, the sharp lines and edges tinted with an uncharacteristic blush as his cheeks hollow out, to suck it in deeper.

“So pretty baby.” You breathe out.

He shudders as the cool air fans out across his wet skin.

“Yeah? ‘m pretty?” He smirks, using his free hand to drag his cock across your face, smearing his precum on your lips. “Show me how you treat pretty boys. Please?”

And how could you deny him?

Centimeter by centimeter, you pull him in. Only the first few inches, get to enjoy the warm, slippery cavern of your mouth while the rest of him has to make do with the soft skin of your hand gliding up, down and around.

“Fucking take it inside. Christ.” He groans, frustration evident as he glares down at you.

You simply shake your head a ‘no’, far too content with the taste and the weight of him in your mouth to stop suckling at his cock. If he wants more, he knows what he has to do.

The frozen treat is back between his lips and far too quickly, with not enough thought he pushes it inside as far as it can go until his gag reflex forces him to abort his mission, sputtering out red-coloured saliva.

You pull off of him as you erupt into a fit of giggles.

Eren takes advantage of the fact that you’re unguarded and in a matter of seconds he has you pinned to the floor. The poor popsicle is left in a sad, melting puddle on your couch while his long, sticky fingers circle around both of your wrists, the other hand keeping a harsh grip on your jaw.

Yeah. Not laughing now, are you?

“Was that funny to you princess?” He questions you, almost daring you to hit back.

Knowing when to quit was never one of your strong points.

“Not funny.” You say despite your giddy smile. “My pretty boy just needs more practice.” You snicker.

You’re pushing his buttons on purpose now. At best, you expect some degrading words fitting of your bratty attitude. At worst, you expect the sting of his palm to come down against the side of your face, reminding you of your place.

What you don’t expect is a wry chuckle before he says, “I forgot how bitchy you get when you don’t get stuffed full of cock enough.”

Eren frees your hands in favour of placing both of his on your knees. He spreads apart your legs as wide as they can go, dragging his coarse palms up and up to rest at the apex of your thighs. He flicks up the hem of your shirt to reveal to him the crotch of your panties that's soaked through with your arousal. He pulls them to the side to expose your cunt to him. Eren barely stops himself from tearing the flimsy fabric right off your body and only because he thinks they're pretty and wants to see you wear them again.

He can smell you. But he suppresses the desire to bury his face between your pillowy thighs for as long as you’ll let him. He knows that’s not what either of you really want.

“This needy pussy been missing me?” He coos, keeping his voice sugary sweet and dripping with condescension. He grinds his pierced tip all along your cunt, dipping under your hood to press right against your clit.

You feel it before you realise what’s happening; the burn of his fat head of his cock prodding at your tiny hole, forcing it to stretch around him.

“Jesus fuck- ‘s tight.” He grits out, managing to pop just the tip in.

Tears gather at your waterline as he impales you further and further on his cock, reintroducing your insides to him and his newest body mod. The bulb of the piercing drags deliciously over every bump and ridge that lines your walls. It just keeps going and going until it’s all too much.

Instinctively, your hand flies to Eren’s abdomen, fingers splaying across his tummy. You want to ask him to stop or wait or at the very least prep you. But you’re just so full.

He’s not even all the way in and you’re full of him everywhere. Did it feel like this before?

He doesn't give you a chance to remember.

“Move. Your fucking. Hand.” He grunts before moving it for you and sheathing his cock fully in your spasming cunt.

“Fuck Eren. ‘s big.” Your voice breaks as you utter that last word right one Eren fills you to the hilt. Your arms fly to his biceps, squeezing the muscle so tight that you’re certain it hurts him but he doesn’t complain.

No one would believe that mere minutes ago Eren was the one under your thumb. Not when he’s so quickly managed to turn you into a blubbering mess.

“Where’s that smart mouth now?” He mocks you as if he’s doing any better. In reality he’s keeping himself still, with his pressed against yours trying to regain a semblance of control, not wanting this to end so soon.

Slowly, he starts to rock his hips against you and little by little you open up around him, offering less and less resistance. Hand on the bible, he swears he can feel your gooey pussy sucking him in every time he pulls back, almost like it’s begging him to never leave again. Hand on the bible, he swears that he won’t.

“Huh?” He taunts. “Where’s the bitch who thought she could fuck with me?” He emphasises his point with one sharp snap of his hips that hits the bull’s eye.

“Eren! Right there!” You cry out as you back arches up into him but he forces you to stay down by pressing his palm firmly against your sternum.

“Right there?” He mimics your voice, with a high pitched, nasal tone. You can’t even cringe at how it sounds because the feeling of the rounded metal hitting that squishy patch deep inside you with pinpoint accuracy is too overwhelming for you to think about anything else.

“You want me to fuck you here?” His thrusts start to pick up pace. You’re finally getting used to him again and the slick juices from your pussy let’s him move as fast as he wants, as deep as he wants so you he can use his cock to abuse all of your sweet spots

You can’t exactly speak; only nod, as you dig your nails into his shoulders and back, leaving a trail of crescent shaped indents in your wake. The coil at the base of your belly twists tighter, tighter and tighter still as all your nerve endings work overtime to register the way he fills you up completely, the way the metal rubs along all the right spots and the way Eren rams into you like a man possessed.

“Pleasepleasepleaseplease.” Now you’re begging. It’s impossible to stop the fear bubbling in your chest. You’ve become well-acquainted with this feeling. Absolutely drowning in pleasure and right on the edge of an unimaginable peak before having it ripped away. It’s not unreasonable to be worried that Eren might leave you high and dry once again.

He halts his movements the moment he notices the doubt behind your eyes.

Your pleas become more and more frantic, already thinking the worst. “Don’t stop Eren! Please don’t stop.” You sob but go silent when his hand rests itself firmly around your throat.

“Told you.” He punctuates the sentence with one, deep thrust.

“Fuck. What did I say?” He growls as he falls back into the same brutal rhythm that had you teetering on the very brink of an orgasm before.

God above as your witness, you try and answer but all that comes out is a pathetic squeak of his name before he cuts you off completely by squeezing your neck tighter.

“S-said I was gonna fuck you stupid. Right?”

You nod as best you can, head spinning from the lack of air and your orgasm approaching rapidly.

“Now fuckin’ cum for me so I can keep my promise.”

The second his hand meets your clit, you’re a goner. The calloused pad of his thumb rubs the neglected nub with exactly the right pressure to push you over the edge. Every muscle clenches as that tightening coil finally snaps. The intoxicating pleasure that shoots through your body reaches your head at the same time as the pressure on your throat is released, much needed oxygen flooding your brain and prolonging the high.

You wrap your legs around his waist, keeping him deep inside you as cream around his cock. It’s pointless to hold off his release any longer and with nowhere else to go he spills his load deep in your pussy. The feeling of his hot cum seeping into your pussy has you twitching around him, trying to milk every last drop from him.

You may have blacked for a second, eyes fluttering open as Eren gently taps your cheek. His handsome face, all flushed and sweaty comes into focus. Both of you are wearing equally dopey grins as he asks you, “Did it feel as good as I said?”

[petewentztiddies]

Dom but kind Anakin and virgin reader? Nice and slow and Anakin is equally vocal?

HHSHHSHSSHDHSHDHSDHHSDHS???? OK MISS GIRL NOW IK U TRYNA KILL ME 🥵🥵 DAMN OKAY HERE WE GO

here ya go baebee, have an Anakin x fem! reader blurb 😏 (also taglist at le bottom;0)

warnings: smut (obv), cunnilingus (oh yes bitches, we’re goin there™), p in v sex, unprotected sex, soft!dom anakin

word count: 1238 ;)

Also yay for gifs this time!!

"But you've never-...are you sure? This is totally up to you-" he starts.

"I want this, Ani. I trust you," you say softly.

Anakin kisses you gently as his hands move around you, pulling you close.

The light kiss turns into something more, and you feel his hands move down to your hips. His hands grow more forceful, gripping you tightly.

"You're so gorgeous," he whispers in a deep voice that makes you shiver. Your hands wrap around his neck, pulling him closer to you. It feels right having him hold you. Anakin's lips move to yours, kissing you deeper. 

He fumbles with the button on your pants, and you can feel his satisfied smile against your lips when he unbuttons the top button. He impatiently undresses you, unfastening your pants and sliding them off into the cold night air. He pulls away from you, peppering kisses from your neck to your torso. He kisses lower, dangerously close to the top of your exposed thigh.

"Please," you whisper.

"Please, what?" he asks, teasingly.

"Could you- I-" you struggle to get your meaning across. Thankfully, it seems as if he knows what you mean. He hooks his fingers in your underwear, sliding it off of you.

His finger circles your entrance, sliding a finger in with ease. “This okay?”

You weren’t a stranger to the sensation of being fingered - you had done it to yourself many times over the years. You were anxious to take it further. “Y-yes. More, please.” you keen.

"You're soaked," he mutters. "All because of me, hmm?" 

"I….I need you to-" you trail off as he curls his finger. 

"What was that, again? You didn't finish your sentence," he smiles wryly.

"M-more, please...I need more," you beg.

"More what?"

He wanted you to say it. You whine in frustration. "I...Maker, more fingers? O-or…" you trail off.

He slides a second finger in easily; curling and pumping them just right. "Or what? Go on, finish your sentence, Angel." He chuckles.

You blank on words for a solid moment there. "...I- you can read minds, I can't describe-!" you arch your back, squeezing your eyes shut as he hits your G-spot.

Anakin says nothing in reply. You can hear him moving, and when you open your eyes you see him between your legs. 

You automatically part your legs for him more to allow him better access.

"So beautiful," he mutters, his voice becoming impossibly low. He presses a soft kiss to your inner thigh, kissing the other one next, taking his time.

Finally, he presses a kiss directly on your clit. Your breath hitches.

He drags his tongue along your folds, tasting you. 

You hiss, hands finding their way to his hair, and you accidentally pull on his hair in a silent demand for more, though he doesn’t seem to mind. 

"You taste so good," he says, quickly resuming his exploration.

He plunges his fingers inside your cunt right as he sucks on your clit, and you swear you see stars from that alone. Your back is arched impossibly high, mouth wide open in a silent scream.

You attempt to buck your hips, but nothing happens. Confused, you glance down at Anakin, who has your lower half pinned with the Force. 

Anakin Skywalker was going to be the death of you.

"I- Ani, faster, please," you babble.

You swear you hear him fucking chuckle - and you can feel the vibration. He swirls his tongue on your clit, faster and faster, electric waves of pleasure washing over you.

You clamp around his fingers, the distinct feeling of an orgasm approaching. 

Your breath comes in quickened, frantic breaths. “Ani,” you whimper.

He merely winks at you. Anakin’s fingers move faster, hitting your G-spot every time. 

He sucks on your clit once again, his mouth oh-so-hot and wet. He lightly grazes your clit with his teeth, and that action alone makes you cum, gripping at the sheets and cursing. 

He helps you ride out the aftershocks of your orgasm, greedily cleaning you with nothing but his tongue.

You pant as you come back to reality, so to speak. Your legs are still shaking.

“You did so good for me, Angel,” he praises. And then he kisses you and you can taste yourself on his lips.

You two begin lazily making out. At some point, he takes his pants off. 

“Are we still…?” You ask.

“That’s totally up to you, baby. Are you feeling up to it?” he asks, sincerely.

Your cheeks redden. “I really want you to…”

“To…?” he prompts.

"Ani...I need..." you trail off.

“Say it, Angel,” Anakin purrs in your ear, fingertips ghosting over your still-oversensitive clit- far too little pressure to actually mean something. “Tell me what you need,”

You ache with need, and your cheeks burn hot with heat. “I...I need you,” you breathe.

“You need my what? "I need you to use your words," Anakin teases, his blue eyes fixed on you. “What do you need?”

"I...please fuck me, Ani," you relent, most of your sense of shame long thrown out the window. "Please, I n-need you to fuck my pussy."

"Good girl," Anakin praises, and you can feel the head of his cock at your entrance.

He pauses, presumably to keep you in suspense because of course, he would, and you’re just about to open your mouth to say something when he slowly, finally, enters you. You moan at the sensation; the delicious stretch. You had expected it to hurt; instead, you feel pleasantly full.

“Fuck, you feel so good…” he whispers in your ear, nipping at your earlobe. “You s-still with me?” You distantly hear him ask.

You nod, unable to form words at the moment. 

He sets a rhythm of slow, deep thrusts. “I want to hear you, Baby. Use your words.” his voice drops to a near-growl.

You moan, your breath coming out in quick, short puffs. “Yes-!” you whine. “Anakin, yes,” 

His metal hand finds your clit, and the contrast of the cold metal on your hot, aching, oversensitive clit made you clench around him. A strangled noise escapes your lips.

“Say it again. Say my name again,” he demands, and you can feel his breath on your neck, lips occasionally peppering kisses on your shoulder and neck.

You scream his name in reply.

“Fuck. My good girl. So wet for me. You’re- you’re taking me so well,” he murmurs filthy praises in your ear, his thrusts gradually becoming erratic. 

His cool fingers circle your clit, and it doesn’t take long before you’re on the verge of orgasm for the second time today.

He moans your name as you clench around him once again, desperate for his touch.

His fingers circle your clit once again. “Y-you gonna cum again? Cum for me. Go ahead, Angel.” his fingers move at fast pace, rubbing tight circles. 

“Cum,” he says simply, and your body reacts to his command. You cry out his name, your orgasm hitting you hard and fast.

He soon follows, muttering your name, kissing you any and everywhere he can, burying himself inside you.

He rolls off of you, and you quickly snuggle up to him. “Thank you,” you sigh.

“What for?”

“That was...really good.” you blurt. “I- I mean, I really liked it. I want to do it again sometime soon.”

Anakin presses a kiss to your forehead. “Any time, Angel.”

----------

whoops, i didn’t mean to make this as long as it ended up. it was just gonna b a lil blurb and then i went “pussy eating go brr”. oopsie ;)

taglist ;p

@soveryhowvery @cr-uelsummer @haydens-moles @anakinswhore @anakin-railme @hansonveggieclub @itsmentalillness @passable-talent @missyatrocious and also motherfuckingstargirl10, but she was the one who asked so she got notified anyway.

anyway damnb i really struggled to write the scene where anakin eats pussy and it probably shows won’t lie. like ohmygod i was stuck on the pussyeating scene for like a whole ass day bc i couldn’t figure out how to describe that feeling you get when ur about to cum???? and i’m too stupid to google??

thx for reading tho ;00 rb or comment if you enjoyed ;) and don’t forget requests are open, so send em over babes <3

[lostinthewiind]

I don’t know if you write for them as well, but could I request a poly fic for Reki, Langa and the reader and maybe them explaining them explaining their relationship to Langas and/or Rekis mom after being caught cuddling together? Thank you in advance and sorry, if you don’t write for them.

Polyamorous Relationship w/ Reki & Langa: Three's a Crowd

A/N: my first request for Reki and Langa! I'm so excited because I love those boys with my whole heart; they deserve the world! So excited to write this!

Rating: PG13

Warnings: use of the term "slut", complex teenage relationships/sexuality discussed

Flopping over onto your back on the bed, you stretched your arms and legs out and let out a loud yawn. You, Reki, and Langa had been working on homework ever since the three of you had arrived at Langa's house after school and you were starting to get mentally exhausted. 

"I'm done!" you exclaimed, shutting your eyes and exhaling.

Peeking at you from where he was lying on the floor, Reki cocked a brow at you. "You finished all of it?"

"No." You shook your head. "I'm just done. My brain hurts. If I do any more I think I might die."

"Good enough for me!" Reki closed his textbook as well and stopped doing his homework too.

Sighing from his spot at his desk, Langa turned in his desk chair to face the two of you. "We have to have this done for tomorrow. You do know that, right?"

"Yes, obviously." You rolled your eyes. "I'm going to do the rest later. I just need a break."

"Exactly. Break time!" Reki stood up from the floor and promptly fell down on top of you on Langa's bed, crushing you and pushing the air out of your lungs in the process. "I'll finish later too."

Langa scoffed. "Y/N I believe . . . but Reki, we all know you'll forget about it tonight and end up scrambling to finish as the teacher goes around collecting it tomorrow morning."

"He does have a point," you wheezed out, trying your hardest to push Reki off of your stomach.

Reki frowned and stuck his bottom lip out dramatically. "You guys are so mean to me." He adjusted himself on top of you so his face was hovering right above yours. "I expected this from Langa, but you, Y/N? I thought you loved me."

You forced out a laugh as you cupped his face with your hands. "I do love you, but that doesn't mean you don't have faults, Reki. I love you despite your faults, and one of your faults is procrastination."

He furrowed his brows, his face scrunching up in thought. "I can't tell if that was a compliment or not."

"The gist was that you're loved," Langa muttered as he continued working away at the homework one question at a time, trying his best to ignore the two of you.

Reki's eyes lit up at that. "Well, good!" He smiled as he cupped your face with his hands in return and pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

Immediately, your cheeks turned red and you averted his gaze. Things between the three of you were still relatively new and you were still working out how a relationship with three people worked, exactly. The fact that neither one of you had ever really had a serious relationship before only made things more complicated.

Noticing your reaction, Reki brushed the pads of his thumbs over your cheeks. "Sorry," he apologized. "I should have asked before I kissed you."

"No, it's okay," you assured him, a soft smile on your face as you did so. "I'm just not used to it yet, especially since our relationship isn't exactly . . . normal."

"I know." Reki hugged you tight and buried his face in your neck, pressing a soft kiss to the skin there. "Did you tell your parents yet?"

You shook your head as your heart began to pound nervously. "No. Did you?"

"Not yet," he mumbled into your neck. "Every time I try to, one of my siblings is around and I abort mission."

Craning your neck, you looked over at Langa. "Did you tell your mom yet, Langa?"

Only half-listening to the conversation, Langa perked at his name but tilted his head quizzically at the inquiry. "Did I tell my mom what?"

"About us," Reki clarified. "The three of us being together."

"Oh." He seemed to grow nervous about the topic as well. "Not yet. Soon."

Finally rolling off of you, Reki laid on his back and pulled you into his side, his arm wrapped around you and your head resting on his chest. "If only we were adults and didn't have to worry about the approval of our parents."

"Yeah," Langa agreed, thoroughly distracted from his homework now, his mind running a mile a minute while he thought about the current predicament. The three of you had to be careful when you went over to each others' houses, trying your best to convince everyone that you were just close friends and nothing more.

Cuddling and kissing were usually reserved for late nights when the sun went down, the lights were turned off, and the three of you hid behind the excuse of watching a movie together. Funnily enough, watching a movie together and cuddling had been how the three of you had discovered your feelings for one another.

"Speaking of that, you two should be careful." Langa gestured to the way you and Reki were holding each other on his bed. "What if my mom walks in?"

"Yeah, you're right," Reki sighed. "I just feel like we never get to be together how we want . . . we're worried about what our parents will think at home and worried about what everyone else will think at school. Nevermind the fact that Langa and I are gay, or, bisexual I guess . . . but polyamory? We'd never hear the end of it."

You exhaled slowly, cuddling closer to Reki. "They'd probably call me a slut for having two boyfriends."

Standing from his chair, Langa walked over to the bed and laid down with you and Reki, forgetting about all of his usual paranoid worries for the time being. "You're not a slut," he told you, wrapping his arms around you as well. "And who cares what anyone else thinks anyway, right? As long as we're happy and we're not hurting anyone else, that's all that matters."

Relishing in the feeling of having your two favourite people on either side of you, you started feeling the stress fade away and your body relax from its usual tense state. "I wish we could stay like this forever."

Before either Reki or Langa had the chance to respond, the bedroom door suddenly swung open and Langa's mom poked her head into the room. "Langa, are you friends staying for dinner or-" She stopped talking as soon as she saw the three of you tangled up in one another on the bed.

Immediately, the three of you jumped away from each other, the stress that had just left filling your body once more. Completely caught off guard since Langa's mom usually knocked first before opening the door, neither one of you knew how to explain away what she had just seen.

"M-mom!" Langa was standing on the opposite side of the room now while you and Reki stood on either side of the bed. "Why didn't you knock?"

Langa's mom eyed the three of you, quickly noticing the flushed faces and obvious nerves radiating off of you. Even if she hadn't thought anything of what she had seen at first, she definitely suspected something now with how the three of you were acting.

"I apologize," she said, pushing the door open all the way and standing in the doorway. "Langa, dear, do you have something you want to tell me?"

Fiddling nervously with his fingers, Langa turned to look at you and Reki, trying to gauge your reactions and decide whether he should tell the truth or try to pull off some sort of lie; but both you and Reki were completely useless as you stared down at the floor and shifted anxiously.

"Langa?" His mom prompted once more.

Finally meeting his mother's gaze, Langa drew in a deep breath. "Can you promise not to be mad?"

Langa's mother quirked a brow quizzically. "You're starting to worry me, honey. Just tell me what's got you so flustered."

"Well . . . u-um," Langa stumbled over his words, completely unsure how he was supposed to just come out and say it. "Well, Mom . . . Reki, Y/N, and I aren't . . . aren't just friends."

Langa's mother folded her arms over her chest and took a minute to process what she had just heard. "I'm sorry, I don't think I understand what you're trying to tell me."

Deciding to rescue Langa from having to ride solo on this, you stepped over to him and took his hand in yours. "Mrs. Hasegawa, Langa and I are dating," you told her.

"Oh, I see." Langa's mom's face flashed with understanding, but then she looked over at Reki, no doubt wondering how he fit into all of this.

"And I'm dating Y/N." Reki stood on the other side of you.

Langa nodded. "And I'm also dating Reki."

The understanding that had once been visible on Langa's mom's face had completely vanished after the three of you had elaborated. "S-so . . ." She paused as she tried to fit all the pieces together in her head. "So the three of you are all dating each other? Is that right?"

"Y-yes," Langa confirmed. "We know people will think it's weird but it's just what makes us happy and I just . . . just please don't be mad."

"Mad?" Langa's mother seemed offended at the insinuation that she could ever be mad at her son for, for lack of a better term, coming out to her more or less. "Oh, dear, I could never be mad at you for who you love."

Before either of you had the chance to process how well that conversation had just gone, Langa's mother was striding over to the three of you and pulling you all into a hug. "All that matters is that you're happy and healthy," she told Langa before looking to you and Reki. "And the same goes for the two of you. I don't know what your parents have said about this, but just remember that being happy and healthy is all that matters."

"Y-you're really okay with this?" Happy tears began to well in Langa's eyes. It was clear that he was overjoyed and shocked that his mother had been so accepting so easily.

Placing her hands on her son's face, Langa's mother smiled at him. "Of course, I am. Is it a little confusing for me? Sure. Do I know much about being in a polyamorous relationship? No. But if the three of you have discovered that this is what makes you happy, as I'm sure you have since you're all old enough to make your own decisions and know what's best for you, then I'm happy as well."

"Thank you!" Langa hugged his mom tightly, silent sobs escaping him as all the worry he had been carrying around for weeks dissipated and he was flooded with relief.

"I'll always love you, no matter what," Langa's mom told him as she glanced at you and Reki, who were starting to tear up as well. "Do your parents know as well?"

You and Reki shook your heads. "No, not yet," you said in unison.

"Well, I hope they are understanding," she told you. "And just know that the three of you are always welcome here."

"Thank you, Mrs. Hasegawa." Reki wrapped his arms around you and held you tight as you cried as well. "Really, thank you so much. We were all scared that everyone would think we were weird or gross."

"People are often scared of things that they think are different," Langa's mom explained to the three of you. "But that doesn't mean there is anything wrong with being different. I won't lie and say that everyone will be understanding, but the world is changing . . . don't assume the worst from people just yet; they might surprise you."

With that, Langa let go of his mother and engulfed you and Reki in a hug. Finally, the three of you had safe space where you could be together and not worry about judgmental people looking in on your relationship. 

Overjoyed and unable to control his excitement, Reki planted kisses on both you and Langa—marking the first time either of you had dared show affection in front of someone outside of the relationship.

Hopefully, the first of many. 

[songbirdstyles]

good vibrations.

summary: it’s a bit more difficult than you’d expected to maintain a relationship with your professor, but you and harry try your best, anyway. (sequel to when i kissed the teacher)

pairing: professor!harry styles x reader

warnings: smut, angst & fluff! m + f receiving oral, facesitting, 69ing. gross frat boys :-(

word count: 14.3k

song inspo.: good vibrations - the beach boys

The first thing you feel when you wake up is a slight jolt of panic.

Your eyes open slowly, staring at the ceiling above you, and that - in itself - is normal. But there’s something heavy wrapped around your waist and a soft aroma of men’s cologne and that’s when confusion settles into your bones.

It lasts a few mere seconds but it’s enough to make you sit up, leaning back against the headboard and rubbing your fists into your eyes. Harry’s arm, firm around your torso just seconds before, drops to your lap, and your eyes follow the path down his arm and to the rest of him. Perhaps it’s strange, gazing at him as he sleeps, unaware of your gaze, but it’s hard to help yourself.

His hair is messy, curls sticking up everywhere, and his face is buried into the pillow your head had just been on. He’s also naked, the duvet falling to just above his bum, and as your eyes trail down the expanse of his bare back, taking particular note of the light pink scratches adorning the top, that’s when the night prior finally comes back to you. Being eaten out against the wall, a playlist made of pure love, his hands on your face as he promises this isn’t a one time thing.

Your professor, fucking you so hard that there’s still a slight ache between your thighs. 

You exhale, dropping your head back against the headboard. The thought overwhelms you, momentarily, but you don’t have too much time to dwell on it before you feel Harry stirring besides you, his arm leaving your lap as he rolls over onto his back. His eyes open slowly, squinting as he adjusts to the sunlight streaming through the window, and then he looks at you and the smile that upturns his lips could make you tear up.

“G’morning, baby,” Harry murmurs, voice throaty and quiet. “Hope you had a nice sleep.”

You grin as you watch him slowly sit up, stretching his arms above his head. “It was alright,” you tell him, pausing to yawn. “Your bed is much more comfortable than the one in my dorm.”

“I’m sure.” You scoot forward, and just as Harry turns his head to look at you you lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. They’re dry and you’re sure yours are too - it’s not as though you’d been concerned with putting on lip balm the night before - but it’s perfect, made even better as he presses his hand to your back, pulling your body closer into his, running his tongue along your bottom lip.

A soft moan falls from your lips and he pulls back, nails running along the back of your neck and sending a shiver down your spine. “So needy. S’only 8 in the morning, too.”

You push yourself to your knees and sink into his lap, feeling his hard on against your thigh that proves he’s just as needy as you are, even at 8 in the morning. “Can’t help it,” you mutter, leaning in to press your lips to the underside of his jaw. His head drops back, giving you more room to work as his hand creeps up from where it had landed on your hip to your chest, kneading your right breast in his hand while you work at suckling a hickey into his soft skin. When his fingers tweak at your nipple you pull your mouth away to moan and examine the mark you’d made, brushing your thumb over it lightly. You hadn’t gotten the chance to mark him up last night, save for the scratches that decorated his back, but you’re more than happy to make up for any lost time now. “I miss you, professor. Everything about you. It’s been too long.”

He chuckles, trailing his other hand down to run a finger through your folds, collecting your wetness at the tip of his finger and focusing it on your clit. He presses down and then rubs a slow circle into the sensitive nub, smirking as you whimper at the sensation. “It has been too long. Nearly 10 hours, can’t imagine how you - fuck.”

Your hand had snaked down, wrapping around his member and swiping your thumb over the tip of him. Harry leans in, pressing his lips to your neck, teeth grazing against your skin as you slowly jerk him off, pumping your hand up and down his cock. You think - or you hope - that you can give of some sort of facade of being experienced at this, of knowing exactly what you’re doing, because you truthfully have no idea. You’d never given anyone a handjob but Harry’s finger, rubbing your clit slowly, stutters as he breathes out a groan, and you hope that means you’re doing a good job.

Two of his fingers slip inside your cunt entirely too easily, and you whine at the feeling. Harry curls his fingers upwards, brushing against the sweet spot that has your eyes rolling back into your head. You’re both too worked up for any type of foreplay, you can tell, and so you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling his face into yours. Your lips connect, teeth clashing against each other, and when he pulls his fingers out of you, resting both hands on the globes of your ass, you reach down and replace your grasp on his cock, lining it up with your positively dripping entrance before sinking onto him fully.

The burn is a lot less prominent than it had been yesterday but you still hesitate - Harry groans lowly and you exhale, waiting for the ache to morph fully into pleasure before lifting your hips and sinking back down onto him. You swear you can feel traces of him in every crevice of your body, feeling so impossibly full and yet so desperate for more. His hands grip your bum, helping you lift yourself up and down, shaky grunts and moans escaping his mouth whenever you roll your hips just right against his.

It’s slower and less intimidating than it had been the night prior, his hips lazily bucking up into yours, now that you’re not so worried about being able to fit him inside of you. And the noises Harry makes spur you on - throaty cries nearly louder than yours - as you drag your hand down your stomach and rub circles into your clit, slow and gentle, because you know you’re not going to need much to send you over the edge. 

“So fucking tight around me,” Harry breathes, teeth nibbling at your bottom lip as his palms smooth over your ass. “Fuck, baby, clench around m’cock, yeah, feels so fuckin’ good -”

Your fingers press harder on your clit and you can already feel your orgasm creeping up on you, and when you rock your hips into Harry’s, feeling his cock brush against your G spot, you toss your head back with a desperate cry, cunt fluttering around him as pleasure rips through your body in waves. Eyes roll back into your head and your nails dig into the back of his neck, pulling his head in to kiss you senseless. With one final grunt and a moan of your name, Harry bucks his hips up, pressing himself as deep inside of you as he can get. The feeling of his cum, shot inside your throbbing pussy, shouldn’t feel so spectacular but God it does and you whine at the feeling, bringing both of your hands up to the back of his head and wrapping your fingers in his curls as you roll your hips back and forth halfheartedly. Merely trying to ride him through his orgasm, and finally Harry presses both of his sweaty palms to your face and pulls you in to kiss him again.

You could kiss him all day. You’ve kissed significantly more people than you’ve fucked (which amounts to a grand total of 2) and you’ve never enjoyed it with anyone as much as you love it with him. Harry makes it interesting, you reckon, hands always going in different spots and making different noises and you could, truly, do it all day.

For a moment the two of you sit there after you’ve pulled your heads away, Harry’s arms wrapped around your back and holding your body to his in a rather intimate hug. Your nails scratch at his scalp, pressing your chin into his shoulder as his fingers trace patterns - tell stories - on the soft skin of your back. Yes, you could stay here forever and be quite happy about it but just as the thought resides in your mind your stomach growls in defiance and Harry laughs at the noise.

“Don’t laugh,” you tell him, voice faux angry as you pull back from him with a smile. “Didn’t have anything to eat last night.”

“Really?” He raises an eyebrow and you nod. “So what did you do before I picked you up?”

Your cheeks heat as you struggle to find your voice to respond, clearing your throat before saying, “Keeping m’self busy, I guess. Now can we please make breakfast?”

 --

 Twenty minutes later you’re seated at Harry’s kitchen table, collecting forkfuls of cheesy eggs on your fork and shoveling them into your mouth to appease your overtly ravenous appetite, listening intently to the music coming from Harry’s phone in the kitchen. It’s a song you recognize from the playlist he’d curated the day prior - Happy Together by the Turtles - and you can’t help the smile from bleeding across your face at the sound.

Besides that, though, and the sounds of your forks scraping your plates, the two of you sit in silence for a moment. Beneath the table your feet knock into his - you’d begun swinging your feet out of slight nervousness but it’s grown into the need to see the small smirk that decorates his lips everytime you kick him gently. 

When the song changes from The Turtles to And I Love Her by the Beatles, you glance up at him again and then rest your fork on your plate. “Y’know, this is a really nice playlist.”

Harry looks up at you, brows furrowed, and then smiles, and the sight of his dimples makes your heart just about melt. “Well, thank you, baby. Put a lot of effort into it.”

Part of you wants to say it only took you ten minutes but you just nod and tell him, “But I think you might’ve added too many Beatles songs.”

“There’s no such thing,” he says, and you raise your eyebrows. “S’not my fault they’ve written some of the greatest love songs of all time.”

You snort, then, leaning back in his (oddly comfortable, considering the quality of that in his office) kitchen chair. “Sexy Sadie is not one of the greatest love songs of all time.”

He pauses at that, forkful of eggs hanging barely an inch from his mouth. “Well, maybe not that song, but -”

“10 Beatles songs out of 45 is rather excessive.” You giggle as he stands abruptly, marching into the kitchen and returning seconds later, phone in hand, still blaring the Beatles as if in defiance. “What’re you doing now?”

Harry sits back down, scrolling through his phone. You stand up, moving around the table until you’re beside him, and you bend down to look at what he’s doing.

“What song d’you think should replace Sexy Sadie, baby?” Harry asks you, turning his head to where yours is a mere few inches from his. “Since you don’t seem to think that one is very romantic.”

You roll your eyes. “You’d be hard pressed to find a single person who considers that song to be the height of love, professor.” 

“Yeah, right.” Briefly Harry rests his phone flat on the table and pushes his chair back, patting his thighs, and you try not to look too pleased as you wiggle into his lap. With his arm firm around your waist and his chin on your shoulder you pick his phone back up, scrolling through Spotify.

“I don’t think you have Good Vibrations on that love playlist, Harry,” you decide. Just to confirm your suspicion you go back into the playlist, scrolling through all 45 songs and - as you’d thought - the lack of Good Vibrations is odd to you. “And that, professor, may just be the best love song of all time.”

He hums as you add the song to the playlist. “Better than Somebody to Love?”

You shrug, sticking out your bottom lip as you flick through Spotify. “That song just makes me sad, sometimes. And you don’t even have that, either.”

“I definitely do!”

“Nope,” you tell him, turning your head to the side to examine his all-too confused expression. “But you do have Get Down, Make Love, which says quite a bit about you.”

Harry groans, and you laugh, and for a moment that’s all that happens - and then the moment breaks, and he reaches out to take his phone from your grasp, and you shift in his lap to look at him with a soft smile.

Whatever banter you’d been having before slowly dissipates, and you clear your throat. “D’you think we should talk about this?”

His hand drops to your hip, squeezing it through the pink button up shirt he’d worn yesterday that you’d snatched from the bedroom floor. “Don’t really think there’s much to talk about,” he says, but you know that isn’t necessarily true.

Truthfully, the last 12 hours have perhaps been the greatest of your life and even if he told you it wasn’t a one time thing - well, he’d just cum inside you and you need to make sure it wasn’t his way of keeping you for the night. And you couldn’t bring yourself to think Harry’s like that at all - the opposite, truly, the greatest man you’ve ever met. But you need to make sure, to ease your mind.

“Um - I guess -” you struggle for the words, suddenly feeling embarrassed for bringing it up, and Harry’s hand flies up to your cheek, cradling it, and the gentle action has you relaxing almost immediately. “I know you said this wasn’t a - one time thing, or whatever -”

“And it isn’t,” he interrupts, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Not for me.”

“Okay,” you breathe, the turmoil your stomach had been going through calming slightly. “But there’s still other things - you’re still my professor. Seems like kind of a big thing.”

Harry pauses for a moment, and you adjust yourself in his lap again - you can feel the beginning of a boner against your ass but you figure you’ll deal with that later. Then Harry drops his hand from your cheek to the small of your back, massaging soft circles through his shirt, and says, “I want you to know that I’ve never slept with a student before. Never even thought about it.”

You nod, and you know it’s true. You’ve heard girls in class talking about it - how he’s refused his students’ advances and reported them for it, and any rumour of him hooking up with a student was immediately squashed by everyone in the surrounding area. He’s a prude. He’s probably into, like, old ladies, or dudes, or something, because there’s no way he can be a regular guy and not have fucked one of us already.

It made you roll your eyes to listen to, but it did cement in the fact that Harry wasn’t one of the few teachers at university who would willingly hop into bed with any student who asked politely.

“But I like you - a lot.” His hand pauses on your back as he draws his bottom lip between his teeth, gnawing gently. “If you weren’t my student, things would be perfect.”

Part of you hates the word choice, that things are so imperfect now, but you know it’s true. Know that, even if you simply weren’t in his class, everything would be so much easier.

You nod. “I like you a lot, too.” And then you stop and think before adding, “I think as long as we don’t do anything on campus it’s fine.”

“Yeah,” Harry says, leaning in to press a kiss to your nose. It’s as though the two of you can’t live for more than a minute without showing some sort of affection towards each other, and perhaps that should make you concerned but you love it. “We’ll keep everything here. No funny business in m’office or anything like that.”

 --

 That resolution lasts roughly a week.

You go to his office after class even though you’ve run out of things to grade, and you work on homework and he helps you study and the most action either of you get is small kisses over his desk. It’s a struggle to pull away from him, but the worry that both of you feel about someone walking in is enough to keep you in your seats.

Though, for the most part, his office hours remain empty. A few stragglers come in, a mix of students who genuinely need help and girls who you can tell hate that you’re in there during their seduction attempts. And Harry plays music, of course, turning it down to the lowest volume on the rare occasions that students come in. 

At the end of the day, you walk out to his car together and Harry either drives you home or to his apartment - depends what you’re feeling that day - and in the morning he either picks you up or takes you from his apartment to your first class and it’s a nearly perfect arrangement.

You’ve forgotten, though, about your decision to remain innocent on campus. It’s what you’d expected to happen at some point, with your absolute desperation for each other, but it still manages to slightly shock you as you glance up at him from your spot on your knees. Your hand works at his dick, watching the way he drops his head back against the wall, grasping the cushions of the couch in his fingers.

“Fuck,” he breathes, voice cracking on the c, though you can’t quite hear it over Waterloo by ABBA playing just a bit too loudly in his small office. You’d made sure to crank the volume up a bit more than usual in case he let out any too-loud noises, and it looked like he was on his way to doing just that as a grunt escapes from between his gritted teeth. “Fuck, baby -”

(You’ve never given a blowjob before but it seems easy enough, though your stomach turns pathetically as you lean in and lick a thin stripe up the underside of his cock, tracing a purple vein. He seems to like that and you pray he can’t tell you’re an absolute amateur at this all.)

Your thumb swipes over the tip of his cock, which you know he likes, and the moan that’s still barely audible beneath the music proves it. You make sure to keep your eyes on Harry, monitoring his every reaction as you lean in, wrapping your lips around the tip of his length and sliding as much of him as you can down your throat.

That’s good. Harry’s hand goes to the back of your head, wrapping his fingers in the strands of your hair and tugging, groaning near violently, his breathing laboured. “Jesus Christ.”

Your hand drops to the base of his cock, pumping what you can’t fit in your mouth which - admittedly - is just barely less than half. You swirl your tongue around the tip of his cock before pulling your mouth off of him, a string of saliva still connecting your lips and his member.

“Feel good, professor?” you ask, sticking your bottom lip out, but you know very well it does - Harry’s hand goes down to your lips, wiping your spit off of your skin, before leaning back again. “Sure looks it.”

“Keep going, m’girl.”

The thought of being his girl brings a slight smile to your lips, and you could bask in the words for the rest of the day but instead you lean in, bracing both of your hands on his thighs through his nice dress bands, wrinkling beneath your fingers. And now - you really don’t know what to do, besides exactly what you’d done before - but you wrap your lips around him again, lowering your head to take more of him than before, and then you hollow your cheeks (which you’d seen in porn) and swallow around him (which you’d also seen in porn.)

It has the desired effect, seemingly, as Harry yelps, fingers tightening in your hair tight enough that you can begin to feel strands disconnecting from your scalp but oddly enough, you sort of like it. His grip loosens near immediately, scratching your head with the tips of his fingers in some sort of silent apology. Harry certainly seems to like that so you do it again, gathering saliva in the back of your throat and swallowing again, and he moans, the noise cutting through the music (which had turned to Oh, Pretty Woman), and if there happened to be anyone outside they would hear it louder than anything else.

It doesn’t make either of you stop. You pull off of him, sucking in a desperate breath as you pump him in your hand again before going back in, working your mouth up and down his length, relishing in the soft noises that escaped him with every one of your movements.

“God, baby, taking me so well,” Harry mutters, brushing a stray curl off your face. As your tongue flicks over his tip again his hips buck up into your mouth of their own accord - you gag around him and he breathes out a quiet apology but you can tell he’s almost there, and finally he groans, “Gonna cum - fuck - m’gonna cum -”

Perhaps it was a warning so you would pull your mouth off of him, revert to jerking him off, but you may as well finish your first blowjob off with a bang, so you take nearly all of his member into your mouth and suck. You barely get a few seconds before you can feel the ribbons of warm cum shooting into the back of your throat, and when Harry’s moans quiet down into heavy pants you pull off of him. His cum in your mouth doesn’t taste particularly fabulous but you swallow it anyway - it’s not horrible, truthfully. And the way his eyes darken as he watches you makes the slightly unpleasant taste ten times better, anyway.

“C’mere,” Harry tells you, and you rise from your knees to stand between his legs, looking down at him as he tucks himself back into his dress pants. When he buttons them he looks almost normal, not like his dick was down your throat a minute before - but you can tell, looking into his eyes, the effect you’d had on him. “Christ, you’re good at that.”

You hum, bending down to press a kiss to his lips. “Funny how fast you dropped the whole not doing anything on campus act, professor.”

Harry rolls his eyes, rising from his spot sunk into the couch. “It won’t happen again, I promise.”

(But it does, of course.)

(Again and again.)

 --

 You throw your body across the couch in Harry’s office as soon as you shut the door, dropping your bag to the ground. You pretend not to notice the slightly amused glance your professor gives you - he’s marking up someone’s essay though he’d only assigned them a few days before and you had hardly even looked at the rubric for it. There’s only a few that have been handed in and when you offered, the day prior, to help him grading, he told you he didn’t need it. And you didn’t press it any further, naturally.

Well, you didn’t mind not grading. It was tedious and boring, and you’d only slightly enjoyed it before because you got to spend time with Harry. And you don’t exactly need an excuse, anymore. You can do what you want with him, now, like lying on his couch and kicking your Vans off onto his plush blue rug. There’s already music pulsing through his office, though not a song you recognize from being on the playlist he’d made for you - Strangers by The Kinks.

“Feel free to make yourself at home,” Harry tells you, voice positively dripping in sarcasm, and you roll your eyes with a small smile.

Your phone is buzzing in your pocket and you pick it up, glancing at the text that came in - from Kaitlyn, your best friend, and you scan the what’s up?? that she’d sent you before tossing your phone onto the couch besides you. You’ll answer her later, maybe call her. Thinking of it, you hadn’t talked to her in a bit, but - you’ll call her later, yeah. Catch up.

“Figure I’m going to be here a while, professor. I’ve got an essay for my creative writing class due on -” you pause to think - “Friday and I’ve barely done the draft.”

He furrows his eyebrows as he looks at you, and you don’t even have to glance up at him to feel the slight air of disappointing wafting towards you. “Baby.”

“Hmm?”

“It’s Wednesday. You’ve got an essay due Friday and you haven’t started?”

You shrug, feeling heat flock to your cheeks as you bend to reach into your bag, tugging out your laptop that you, really, only use for essays. “I have started, but I’ve been a bit distracted, I guess.” The only thing you’ve been distracted by is him, truthfully, and he knows it.

For a moment there’s silence filling the air between you, only disturbed by the sounds of your fingers moving over your keyboard. You’ve suddenly felt quite inspired to get a move on with your essay, oddly, and you think that Harry may be the perfect cure to your procrastination habits.

“D’you want my help?” Harry asks, his voice oddly gentle. He’s never necessarily helped you with any homework before though he always asks if you need it, and usually you’d tell him you’re fine but - well, his feedback would be appreciated since you, admittedly, don’t have too much time before this dumb paper is due, so you nod quickly.

Then Harry stands from his spinning chair, letting it roll into the wall behind him and dropping his red pen on top of the essay he’d been grading. You barely have time to look up at him, straining his neck to look at what you have so far for your essay, and you roll your eyes playfully before turning the screen so he can read it. 

His eyes move fast as he reads what you have so far, which isn’t enough for how long it takes him to examine your work. You take the time to admire him, the way he pokes his tongue out every so often to wet his lips (which, you’ve noticed, he seems to prefer over wearing lip balm) and the way his eyebrows furrow when he reads certain lines. Harry’s fingers drum against your computer, following the rhythm of the music, and after a minute he leans back on his heels and pushes your laptop away from him, fingers brushing against the soft skin of your stomach from where your shirt has ever-so-slightly ridden up. 

You wait a moment for him to speak, and then ask, “Was it horrible? You look like it was horrible.”

Harry shakes his head, curls flopping back and forth (you’re reminded of the beginning of the year, when he used to gel his hair back, though it had grown quite a bit since that point, and you’re not sure gel could have its desired effect on his locks.) “It’s not horrible at all. It’s quite good, actually. Sometimes your sentence structure is a bit wonky, like -” he leans in, tugging your laptop back into his view, fingers dancing across your skin again in a way that you know isn’t accidental, and then he highlights a line smack in the middle of your draft - “here, and a few other spots. But it’s good.” You must do a poor job at concealing the relief on your face, because Harry glances at you and chuckles. “Don’t look so surprised. You’re a great writer. Best that’s ever come into my class, and I’m sure your creative writing professor agrees.”

You shake your head, turning your computer back around so it’s facing you. “I don’t think Professor Capone likes my writing too much. I’m barely scraping an A in her class, but maybe she’s just a tough grader.”

“Reckon she’s just a tough grader. I’ve heard that before.” Harry nods thoughtfully and you can’t help but giggle at the suddenly serious expression that takes over his face, as though whether Capone is a tough grader is akin to the meaning of life. His brows furrow and he glances down at you with a bemused smile. “What’re you laughing at?”

“M’not sure, really,” you tell him, grin spreading across your face. He watches you for a second and then leans down, lips hovering barely a centimeter above yours, and you let your lips touch for just a moment before pushing him away. “Now, c’mon professor, what happened to we shouldn’t do anything in the classroom?” The fact that you two had done just about everything but having truly fucked in this office goes unmentioned, of course.

His response is interrupted by the door opening slowly behind him - your eyes widen and he stands immediately, clearing his throat and backing up so he’s leaning against his desk, cheeks flushed red.

In the doorway is a girl you recognize from your class - Hannah Joseph, you think, and you also believe you’d graded her essay. You give her a small smile and she looks down at you, lying on the professor’s couch with your shoes off, with an air of distinct confusion.

“Miss Joseph.” Harry clears his throat, drumming his fingers against his desk. “What can I do for you, today?”

She pauses, glancing between the two of you with furrowed brows, and you bury yourself back into your essay. Everything about this situation feels wrong and you hate it, hate the energy flowing beside Born to Run by Bruce Springsteen. “Um - sorry if I’ve interrupted something.”

You squeeze your eyes shut at Hannah’s words - she can’t possibly know what the two of you had been doing but you still feel like she does, like she’d been watching you two. If Harry is as nervous as you are about the entire situation he certainly doesn’t show it, just grins at her and says, “Not interrupting anything! Just helping Y/N with her essay, here.”

It isn’t convincing and you can tell Hannah agrees, but she merely shakes her head and makes her way to the desk - Harry walks to the other side and plops in his chair and she takes a seat in the entirely uncomfortable one that you’d opted out of.

She has a question about the essay he’d assigned, naturally. There’s not quite any other reason she should be here but it doesn’t stop your worries. What if she told people she’d seen something suspicious in Professor Styles’ office when she went during his office hours? 

You two had been stupid. He was right, you shouldn’t do anything in his office. It’s stupid.

By the time you’ve completed the second to last paragraph of your rough draft Hannah is pushing her chair back, bidding farewell to Harry and giving you a small wave as she leaves - you call goodbye as cheerfully as you can manage as she shuts the door firmly behind her, the noise reverberating through the small room.

There’s silence, at first.

And then Harry sighs, dropping his head into his hands, and you push yourself to sit up, your laptop shutting of its own accord. “Fuck.”

You swallow, glancing down at the light grey fabric of your sweatpants and pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. “Yeah. Fuck.”

Born to Run changes into Livin’ Thing by ELO and you’re not sure of what to say, until finally Harry rests his chin on his palms and says, “We can’t take risks anymore, I think. That was really close.” Then he pauses and adds, “Even having you in my office for so long is suspicious. Maybe - maybe we shouldn’t, anymore.”

You nod. Not going to his office every day will certainly be a change, you suppose, even if it’s for the best. You love every moment you spend with him in the cramped office space. And though you know you’ll hate to not be able to kiss him in his office or anything of the sort you know it’s best - the absolute worst thing that could happen is someone walking in while you and Harry are truly in a compromising situation. “Yeah. We can just keep it at your apartment. Nothing wrong with that, now, is there?”

Harry gives a tight lipped grin and then hesitates. “Maybe it’s better too. I feel bad, sometimes. We spend so much time together - feel like I’m taking away your college experience.”

You furrow your eyebrows, leaning forward to rest your chin against the edge of his desk. “My college experience?”

“Y’know - partying and stuff. That’s most people’s favourite parts of college.”

You pause. You’d been to a few parties during the year but they’d never appealed to you much, and truthfully, you’d rather spend your time holed up in Harry’s office. “I’d rather be able to remember my college experience. I’m not quite a fan of parties. Much prefer this place.”

He sends you a small smile but you can tell something’s shifted in the room, and you give it a few more minutes of silence - besides the music - before sliding your laptop into your bag and standing up. You swing your bag over your shoulder and glance at him. “I’m gonna head back to my dorm, alright? I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Harry looks up at you and nods, running a hand through his messy curls. “I’ll see you tomorrow, baby. Text me when you get to your dorm, okay?”

“Alright,” you tell him, and then you give him one final smile and you’re gone.

 --

 “How do Borachio and Don John decide to disrupt Hero and Claudio’s marriage?”

You pause, sipping thoughtfully on your spoonful of soup. Harry leans against the kitchen counter, watching as you think. “Borachio will convince Maragret to dress up in Hero’s clothes and then Borachio will fuck her on the balcony so Claudio will see.”

Harry raises his eyebrows, nodding subtly and scrolling through his phone for another brief moment. “And what becomes of Hero when Don John sets her up?”

“She dies.”

He nods again and then slides his phone into the pocket of his pajama pants, taking a step forward to where you’re seated on the counter. “You didn’t get a single question wrong, you know.”

You shrug, fighting off the smile that wants to appear on your lips. “Well, I’ve read it a lot, professor. Know that play inside and out, really.”

“Ah.” You open your legs so Harry can slot his body between them, resting his hands on your hips through the oversized sweater you’d bought from the thrift store years ago. “So why’d you want to come over, then? Clearly wasn’t to study, now was it.”

It’s not a question, but you still tilt your head thoughtfully to the side as if in deep thought. Truthfully, it had been a few days since the two of you abolished your time together in his office and it had drastically reduced the time you spent with him. He’s invited you over every night he got home early enough but to go from every day for hours to one or two on certain days is a change you don’t particularly enjoy, even if it’s necessary.

Hence, begging him to help you study. But you still shrug and say, “no, it was. No better person to help me study than my professor.”

“Mhm,” Harry twirls your hair around his finger, then pulls back, pressing his lips briefly to your forehead. “You know you don’t need an excuse to come over.”

You feign offense, sticking out your bottom lip. “Wasn’t an excuse to -”

“I’m not saying it was,” he grins and you cross your arms, smiling softly. “But I just want you to know. You can come here whenever. M’always happy to have you here.”

Internally, your heart melts - but before you can respond you can hear the telltale noise of your phone ringing from where you’d tossed it on the couch earlier when you’d arrived. You groan, dropping your head back against the cabinet before pushing yourself off the counter, padding into the living room. Marie sits, curled up on top of the couch, and you brush your fingers down her back as you glance at whoever’s calling you.

It’s Kaitlyn, and you wince - you’d told yourself you would call her nearly ten times this week but you’d gotten too distracted. By Harry, mainly, but also your essay and the rest of your schoolwork, and you’re tempted to ignore this one too in favor of your professor in the kitchen but instead you press accept and bring the phone to your ear.

“Hey, Kaity,” you say, and hearing her small hey on the other end brings a smile to your face. “What’s up?”

“Well, Dylan and I are going to dinner in like, an hour. D’you want to meet us there? I feel like we haven’t talked - all three of us - in forever.”

You tug your bottom lip between your teeth, thinking for a moment. You’d barely been at Harry’s for half an hour but you haven’t seen - or even talked to - your friends in weeks. So you clear your throat and brighten your voice and say, “Sure!”

You can see Harry poke his head out of the kitchen, raising his eyebrows at you, and you bite back a laugh at the site. On the other end, Kaitlyn says, “Cool. See you there, then, and don’t be late, please -” and you say, “Got it,” before hanging up and dropping your phone against the couch.

“Who was that?” Harry asks as you return to the kitchen, his arms wrapping around your smaller frame as he tugs his body to yours.

“My friend, Kaitlyn. I don’t think you know her - she’s a chemistry major.” You wrap your arm around his neck, letting him embrace you before saying, muffled against where your face is buried in his neck, “I’m gonna have to head out soon. Promised I’d meet them at dinner in an hour, and it’s not too short a walk to the cafeteria. But I’ll probably come over after dinner, if that’s okay.” 

Harry nods, and when he speaks again you can hear the teasing lilt in his voice. “M’glad you’re going to see your friends,” he tells you, and you smile. “But if you’re gonna leave soon … I guess we better make the most of our time, right?” And you don’t respond before crashing your lips to his.

 --

 “I have a question.”

You glance up at your friends, chewing slowly on your bite of noodles. It’s the first time you’ve seen them in - admittedly - a while, nearly three weeks. And it’s a drastic difference when you and them had spent nearly every waking minute together before you’d started seeing Harry, but you didn’t think they’d even notice. After all, Kaitlyn and Dylan had started dating recently, too, and you figured you would give them time off from your third-wheeling.

Well - no, you didn’t figure that. They never gave you an indication that they were bothered by your being there with them, but it was a better excuse than I’ve been fucking my professor, and I haven’t really been thinking of much besides that.

“Yeah?” you tilt your head at Dylan, grabbing your lemonade from the table and taking a sip. 

Kaitlyn drops her fork from where she’s been picking at her salad, and then asks, “Well - we’ve kind of been wondering where you’ve been. We haven’t seen you in so long and your roommate said you’re barely there anymore, anyway.”

You raise your eyebrows, squinting at the pair of them in front of you. “You asked my roommate?”

“Well, yeah.” Dylan glances at Kaitlyn and then back at you, and this is beginning to feel like a bit of an intervention. “We didn’t know if you were just mad at us or something.”

“S’not like she’s at our room much, anyway. Always at her boyfriend’s. Nick’s, I think.” You twist more noodles around your fork, making sure to lather them in the slightly-chunky but still edible pasta sauce that the cafeteria had made for today. “I’ve been at my room loads.”

It’s not necessarily the truth but you wouldn’t call it a lie, either. Since you’d stopped going to Harry’s office you’d been spending more time at your room and your roommate had been there more, too - it was curious, since she never used to spend any time there, and you’d started to get to know her a bit, too.

“Her and Nick broke up,” Kaitlyn says, leaning in and taking a bite of her salad. “But - I don’t know. It’s weird. I mean, all of a sudden we never heard from you.” You don’t respond, staring down at your noodles, and she leans closer towards you, “But then - um.”

You glance up. “What?”

“Well - Hannah Joseph said you’ve been spending a lot of time with Professor Styles,” Dylan reveals, drumming his fingers against the lunch table. Your heart drops at his words and you rest your fork against your plate, the utensil still wrapped in noodles. “And there’ve been a lot of rumours.”

With every single word this entire conversation keeps getting worse, and you take in a gulp of lemonade to try and distract yourself. When you’ve swallowed you look up and try to feign disinterest. “What kind of rumours?” you ask, and you’re not quite sure whether your nonchalant facade towards the entire situation is working.

Dylan leans back in his chair, making eye contact with Kaitlyn again - you hate when they do that, especially right now. You feel like they’re having some sort of conversation you’re not allowed to know, that they’re keeping secrets from you and you’re not supposed to do that. They’re your best friends.

(But you’re keeping the biggest secret of all, and you know you’ll never tell them.)

After a moment, Dylan finally says, “Well, when Hannah was telling us about you being in Professor Styles’ office all the time, Alana Williams told us that she walked in on you guys in his office, like, two weeks ago. And you were really flustered and left, like, the second she came in, and he was really awkward about it the entire time.”

Fuck. You’d forgotten about Alana, walking in on you two immediately after you’d kissed for the first time. You know the answer you’re going to get, but you furrow your brows and ask again, “But what was the rumour, then?”

“That you’re sleeping with him.”

Yeah, you expected that. And it’s not like it’s wrong but hearing the words from Kaitlyn’s lips make you feel embarrassed and all of a sudden you want to run out of the cafeteria screaming, run to your dorm and never talk to anyone again. Because if Hannah and Alana told Kaitlyn and Dylan about you being in his office all the time, who else did they tell?

You breathe out a laugh, hoping to God that you sound amused by the entire thing and not absolutely terrified. There’s no foreseeable way you can salvage this and you can’t think of any sort of excuse for your weeks-long absence from your friends because they already mentioned the truth and you can’t tell them that. They’re your best friends and you should tell them the truth, the way they’ve always told you the truth about everything, but there’s no way you can do that now.

You cross your arms over your chest, eyes peeking left and right as though you’ll catch someone watching you, wondering if you really are sleeping with your professor. As if you’ll yell it out. “That’s stupid,” you tell them, and the way their shoulders ever so slightly drop in relief makes you want to scream. “I’m not sleeping with Professor Styles. I’ve just been busy. Overloaded with schoolwork, right now.”

It’s impossible to tell if they believe it, but you roll your eyes and continue anyway. “But I have missed you guys a lot, and I’m sorry for - um - ignoring you. That was fucked up.”

(In the back of your mind, you’re reminded of the way you’d told Harry you’d return to his apartment after dinner. You hadn’t promised but you’d never failed to go to his apartment when you’d said you would. There is a first time for everything, you suppose, so you give them a bright grin that you aren’t feeling at all and lean in. “Speaking of which, what can we do tonight? I’m all yours, I swear. Won’t even think about my assignments.”

The smiles that spread across their faces like wildfire makes you feel ever so guilty - guilty at the fact that, although you do miss them, your heart aches at the fact that you’re leaving Harry high and dry. Well, he’ll live, you know. Probably spend the night watching television with Marie, and you’ll see him tomorrow. 

“I’m going to guess you don’t want to go a party, right?” Kaitlyn asks, a grin playing at her lips. They’ve tried to drag you to parties for so long and you hate them, hate everything about them, but -

Right now a party sounds perfect. Perfect to forget about how, apparently, everyone on campus thinks you’re fucking your professor and perfect to extinguish every one of those rumours. So to Dylan and Kaitlyn’s surprise and, truthfully, your own, you lean back in your chair with a bright grin. “I’d love to go to a party! Where’s it at?”

 --

 Within ten minutes of being at said party, you regret it quite a bit.

The dress Kaitlyn had picked out of your closet is two years old and certainly doesn’t fit correctly - you can’t remember buying it, honestly, and every couple of minutes you have to tug the top up to cover your tits. You don’t like the way guys are looking at you and more specifically down your shirt, and they look at Kaitlyn too - but perhaps she’s more used to it from going to frat parties more often, because it doesn’t seem to bother her nearly as much as it pisses you off.

Dylan brought you a drink immediately and you took one sip and hated it. You hate everything about being here but you paste a grin on your face, jumping into pictures with people you barely know, and you’re sure if there was ever someone who looked less like the type to sleep with their professor, it’s you right now.

Which is what you were going for. And, if you wanted to take it all the way, you would let one of these frat guys pin you up against the wall and kiss you until you’re breathless, but you can’t do that to Harry. Even if you’re not official - not truly together - the thought of your lips pressed against any that don’t belong to Harry is disgusting. You sent him a text while you were getting dressed, telling him something came up and i can’t come over:(( sorry and he didn’t seem to mind much, merely replying, Sounds good. See you soon. And now, as you stand in a cloud of marijauna, leaning against the wall and periodically pretending to drink from your cup, you realize you’d much rather be holed up in his apartment than here.

Dylan and Kaitlyn are having fun, though, dancing entirely too close on the dance floor. They did this at parties before they started dating, too, bodies pressed close to each other, and you always wondered why they never just came out and got together. The difference between then and now is that, before, Kaitlyn would always drag you out with them at some point, making sure you’re included.

You don’t reckon that’s going to happen now.

So you push yourself off the wall, clutching your phone and your cup in one hand and using the other to brush Dylan on the back as you push past them - you can hardly hear Kaitlyn calling, “Where’re you going?” as you make your way through a crowd of people. When you’ve finally found your way to the edges of the party you can spot an open door leading out to the deck, and you decide that’s where you want to be, so you push yourself through the door and to the violently bitter cold.

It’s a decision you almost regret but there’s so few people outside - two frat boys, one of them who you recognize from your creative writing class, and a girl sitting, half asleep, on the ground. In some odd way you feel like you fit in with the people out here, so you lean against the house and look at your phone again.

Harry hasn’t texted you again and you’re not sure why you thought he would - there wasn’t much to say on his behalf. In the back of your mind you’re entirely too aware that standing outside by yourself like a loner makes you look even more the part of girl-who-fucked-her-teacher but you can’t force yourself to be in there. 

“Hey.”

You’re snapped out of your thoughts by a voice from next to you, and you look up to see the boy from your creative writing class, leaning on the wall beside you. His friend has gone, probably back inside, and the girl sitting on the ground looks completely gone now. It’s just you and him, this guy you’ve hardly spoken to ever, but you turn to face him anyway.

“Hey,” you say, voice coming out in a soft puff of air, white in the nighttime air. “S’Jacob, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Jacob nods, blonde hair flopping in front of his eyes, and it reminds you, in some sort of way, of the uncontrollable nature of Harry’s hair. “Aren’t you in my writing class or something?”

You nod, brushing your hair out of your face and glancing down at the cup in your hand. It’s still as full as when you got it, even with all the pretend sips you’d been taking. “Yeah, I am.”

Jacob’s head falls back against the house and says, “Knew I recognized a pretty face like yours.” You exhale, rolling your eyes, and he furrows his eyebrows. “What? M’serious. I’ve always thought you were quite cute.”

“Thanks, I suppose.” You look up at him with an amused smile. “You’re - um. You’re cute too,” which isn’t exactly a lie. He’s not horrible but perhaps being with Harry has skewed your perception of all guys in your year - they’ll never be as lovely as him. 

“Well, thank you,” Jacob replies, and you’re not sure what to say now - just lift your drink to your mouth and pretend to take a drink of it. It seems like in the blink of an eye he’s moved closer to you - standing half beside you and half in front, and you pull your cup closer to your body. He’s barely half a foot away from you and his face is even closer, and he smells like cheap beer and mint gum.

You drop your head back against the wall, raising your eyebrows. “What’re you doing?” you ask, confusion and yet complete understanding dripping from your words. 

Jacob shrugs, leaning in until his lips are entirely too close to your ear and you can feel his breath, warm against your skin and you can smell him even stronger, now. “Just relax, alright? S’okay.”

You can’t relax though, and all you can think about is how different and terrible this is compared to how amazing Harry makes you feel, and you shake your head vehemently. “Jacob, I’m sorry, alright? You’re really nice and all, but -”

“D’you have a boyfriend?” Jacob asks, then, pulling himself away from you. 

“Not really,” you tell him, which is the truth. You and Harry aren’t - technically dating but you still couldn’t hook up with this frat boy if you tried. You’re as good as dating him and the thought of doing it to him makes you sick to your stomach. “But I’m just not interested.”

There’s a pause, then. Jacob takes a step back, looking at you with his brows furrowed and his face looking oddly flushed. There are goosebumps covering your skin and you suddenly want to go back inside but then he’s talking again - “I think I know what this is about.”

You must wear the confusion you’re feeling, because he continues. “Can you be honest with me? Like, really honest.”

You hadn’t thought he was too drunk before but he certainly is starting to seem just a bit drunker than you’d anticipated. You furrow your eyebrows, lips upturning. “Sure.”

Then Jacob takes another step forward so you’re just as close as you’d been before and leans in again, dropping his voice so low you can hardly hear it. “Is it true you’re boning Professor Styles?”

The words take a moment to sink in. Is it true … Professor Styles? And when they’re finally there, embedded inside of your brain, you exhale a shaky laugh. It’s all you can bring yourself to do, resting your head back against the house. “Are you serious?”

You look at him again and he nods, shrugging slightly.

“I’m not - I’m not boning Professor Styles.” The lie tastes bitter on your tongue but you force it to sound normal anyway. “And I don’t have a boyfriend.”

Jacob rolls his eyes until you can merely see a white stripe in them. You can feel yourself getting - angrier? Sadder? More annoyed? - by the moment. And you hate that some dumb frat boy can make you feel so horrible but he’s doing it now, even if he probably doesn’t realize it. He steps back again, running a hand through his floppy hair. “Alright, alright. So you’re not fucking your professor and you don’t have a boyfriend. What, exactly, is holding you back, then?”

You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling heat soar to your cheeks even in the bitter chill of the night. “Can you give it a fucking rest, Jacob?” 

He whistles and you’re pushing yourself off the wall, already beginning to slide open the door to go back inside when Jacob begins, “Don’t be such a bitch about it -”

There’s only a brief second of hesitation on your part - turning around and using the hand that isn’t clutching your cup and your phone you press it to his chest and push as hard as you can. The force of it sends your phone flying out of your hand and hurtling down to the deck and you watch it fall down with a moment of brief regret - you can hear the glass shattering and you know it’ll be a bitch to repair. And you drink splashes up, spilling onto your chest and your dress and it smells repulsive. But Jacob (who you suspect is drunker than you originally thought) stumbles away from you and it makes both things worth it.

You can feel tears beginning to sting your eyes as Jacob straightens up, and before he can say anything else you bend down, picking your phone off of the deck and racing back into the house. You slide the door shut behind you and you can feel it open only a second later but you’ve already gone, pushing your way through the crowd, looking for both the way out and someone with a phone that doesn’t have a screen smashed to bits.

Kaitlyn and Dylan are pressed against the wall and you hate to interrupt the way they’re kissing desperately, hands all over each other, but you reach out and tap her shoulder anyway. Because, truthfully, you don’t actually care that much.

You shout above the music that you need to borrow her phone and she doesn’t hesitate to fish it out of her bra, handing it over to you with an incredibly wide grin - her telltale drunk grin - and you grab it in your hand, your broken phone in your other, and open up the phone app.

You have his number memorized from spending so long studying it once he’d given it to you that it’s easy to type it into the keypad - when the line is ringing you realize it’s entirely too loud in the thick of the party so you turn and walk out the front door and onto the front steps, leaning against the railing.

The line clicks and you’ve never been so grateful for such a small noise. “Hello?” the voice on the other end says, raspy like it always is when he’s just woken up (and you hate to think that you’ve woken him from a nap) and you could cry at the sound of it.

“Harry.” you swallow, eyes darting back and forth to see if there’s anyone near you - but everyone seems to be inside, enjoying the party, and you just can’t. “Harry, hi.”

“Hey, baby,” he says, and his voice seems to brighten at the sound of yours. “What’s going on? Whose phone is this?”

“Um -” you bring your thumb up to your mouth, nibbling on your nail before dropping your hand back down to your thigh. “It’s a long story. Can you pick me up? I’m sorry, I just - um. I’m sorry, I’m not trying to be a pain. You don’t have to if you’re too tired because you sound like you just woke up but I really want to be with you right now.”

You look - standing outside of a party, fighting back tears that are burning in your eyes calling your professor, of all people - the exact type of girl who would fuck her professor, but oddly enough, you don’t really think you care anymore. All you want to do is to feel Harry’s arms wrapped around you, making you feel better, and you never should have come to this stupid party in the first place. It was a mistake.

“Are you alright?” Harry asks, and you can picture him getting out of bed already, tugging on a pair of joggers - the pink ones he wears all the time - and sliding on his sneakers. “Uh - where are you?”

That you’re not quite sure of. You glance around but you can’t make much out in the dark - there’s a sign at the end of the street and you squint to try and make it out. “Barry, I think. Avenue? I’m not sure. I think it says Barry, though.”

“Okay,” Harry says. “I know where you are, and I’m gonna be there in five minutes, alright? Just stay where you are.”

You breathe out a small okay, and then the line clicks and he’s gone, and you pull the phone away to stare at it for just a moment. Then you go and delete the call from Kaitlyn’s history - wouldn’t want her calling it on accident - and dart back inside. She’s still wrapped around Dylan but you give it to her anyway, watching her stuff the device back into her bra. And you take a moment to bid your friends goodbye - wrapping them in a hug even if you know they’d rather be making out with each other than hugging you - and you head back out the door, sitting down on the front steps and letting the door slam behind you.

Your phone sits beside you in all its broken glory. Your mind is reeling and you can’t think straight - all you want is to be with Harry, forget about the assholes who think (or know) that you’re sleeping with him. Because - well, you are, you suppose. But there’s so much more, stuff they’ll never know, stuff they can’t know.

Just as your teeth start chattering in the cold you can see a familiar car pull up in front of the house. You can see his figure in the drivers seat, a hood pulled up tight over his hair, and you jump up, grabbing your phone and bounding towards the car. You’ve never been so happy to see him in your life - opening the door and ducking into the passenger’s seat, dropping your shattered phone on the center console between you. The warmth of his car is nearly suffocating but you love it, prefer it so much over the cold that’s been so prevalent for so long.

“Hey,” Harry says, voice soft, as if he can tell you’ve had a shitty day. (Which he probably can, truthfully.) “What happened to your phone?”

“I dropped it,” you tell him, taking another glance down at the phone you’ve had for four years that could survive falls from your pockets, bed and accidentally getting stepped on by Dylan but couldn’t make it through a simple fall onto the deck of a frat house. Serves you right for going to the dumb party anyway. “Can I go to your apartment? Just really don’t want to be alone. I had - a really shitty day.”

He nods and then you’re gone, taking off down the street. “D’you want to tell me about it, then?”

You sigh, leaning back against the headrest. You take a moment to listen to the music, playing so silently you can hardly hear - but it’s Just The Way You Are, by Billy Joel, and it’s from your playlist. “Just - um. A lot of people, apparently, think we’re sleeping together and then I was talking to this - this guy named Jacob and he was being a dick about it because I wouldn’t fuck him and then - then I pushed him and I dropped my phone and it broke.” Your voice cracks and you can feel the tears that had been residing behind your eyes finally beginning to spill over, and you bring your wrist up to wipe the tear that had begun to streak down your cheek. “M’sorry. Seems silly, now.”

“It’s not silly.” Harry’s voice is firm and you look over at him, sniffling slightly. When you’ve stopped at a red light he turns towards you, bringing his thumb up to wipe away another tear that had trickled down to your nose. “I’m sorry. People can be dicks sometimes.”

You inhale shakily. “Yeah.” For a split second there’s silence and then you say, “I don’t even know why I went to a stupid party. I hate them and I hated this one too but -” you stop to think. “I wanted people to think I wasn’t the type of person to fuck my professor. Which is silly, I guess, because I am the type of person to fuck my professor.”

“Can you look at me?” he asks, and you do, making eye contact with him briefly before he looks back at the road. “S’all gonna be alright, you know that? Nobody is gonna know. No one’s gonna find out - they’re all just guessing now.”

“I feel like they know.” you sniffle again, blinking away more tears that had come to the surface of your eyes. “And I know they can’t but I feel like they do.”

Harry pulls into the parking lot behind his building, then, and you unbuckle your seatbelt with shaking hands and grab your phone from the center console, pushing yourself out of the car and into the air again. The two of you walk in silence to the doors and then he presses the button of the elevator to go up and looks at you again.

“Baby,” Harry says, and you nod slowly. “What do you want to do?”

You pause. “What do I want to do?”

Then he grabs your hand as the elevator opens and you step in together, pressing the button for the third floor. “I don’t want you to stress about getting caught,” he responds, voice dropping to hardly above a whisper. “We’re going to be okay, I promise. As long as we keep things off campus we’re fine.”

You nod, glancing down at your scuffed heels with a sniff. “I know.”

The elevator dings again and you step out of it, your hand still in his as he walks down the hall to his apartment. While he digs in his pocket for his key, you tell him, “If you’re asking me whether I want to stop this, the answer is no.”

Harry glances up at you, key in the door, with a raised eyebrow.

You continue, shaking your head. “I like you a lot, Harry. A lot. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before in my life and I don’t want stupid fucking frat boys to take you away from me.” The two of you step into his apartment and he flicks on the lights, leaning against the door as you continue. “Don’t think I’d ever forgive myself if the most amazing man in the entire world slipped between my fingers because I was afraid.”

You take a step towards him, and then he wraps his arms around you and it’s what you’d needed all bloody day, just to feel his hug. You burrow your head into his chest and he presses his lips to the top of your hair, his voice coming out muffled by your hair when he speaks again. “I’m afraid too, baby. But I like you a lot too. More than anyone I’ve ever known.” Then he grabs your cheeks, pulling your head away from his so he can stare you right in the eyes - you swear his are mesmerizing. “I think I love you, actually.”

Love.

He loves you.

The thought bounces around your brain and it’s all you can think of - Professor Styles, telling you he loves you in his apartment, his warm hands pressed to your cheeks. And you hadn’t been sure, until now, whether you did love him. You’d never exactly felt that sort of love for anyone before because none of your relationships had ever lasted too long. But hearing him and seeing him now is making your brain churn out a thousand thoughts per minute and the most apparent one is that you love him too.

So much.

So you exhale, a smile quirking your lips upwards, as you reach up to press your hands to his face, too. You can see him fighting back the urge to grin and you could cry again but you swallow the urge and breathe out, “I love you, too.”

And you lean up on your toes, pressing a kiss to his lips and barely hearing the way he mutters back, “I love you so much,” because you couldn’t pull your lips from his if you tried. His hands drop to your back, pressing against the small of it as he leads you farther into his apartment. Your lips never detach and it’s difficult not to trip over your own feet but eventually you’re being pushed onto a distinctly soft surface, and one glance to your right shows you that it’s not his bed but the couch in his living room.

“Sorry, Marie,” Harry says, and you push yourself onto your elbows as you watch Harry pick up Marie from her spot on top of the couch and deposit her to the floor. “Don’t want you to see this. Just shoo for a little while.”

You roll your eyes as Harry looks down at you, one leg propped on the couch and the other firm on the ground. “You’re ridiculous, professor,” you tell him, and he throws an arm over the back of the couch, lowering his body onto yours until you can push your head up and mesh your lips with his. His hand goes beneath your head as he lowers you back down onto the couch. “But I still love you.”

When Harry pulls away his cheeks are a light shade of pink and you feel quite honored to be the person to make him blush - your professor, so professional in front of the classroom and blushing like a schoolgirl above you. You bring your hand up to his hair, twisting your fingers in his curls to bring his head back down but he doesn’t go for your lips, instead lowering his mouth to your throat, pressing hickeys to the column of your neck.

“You smell like beer, y’know that?” Harry tells you, and you can feel the smile on his lips as he trails kisses down to your collarbone. His hand works at tugging the top of your dress down, reaching in to pull your tits out where they’re already practically spilling out of it. 

“Spilled a bit on myself at the party,” you breathe as he lowers his mouth onto your nipple, his hand massaging your other breast. “Wasn’t good beer, though. Could tell it was cheap. I couldn’t drink more than a sip - fuck.”

Harry pulls back from your nipple and blows on it gently, the sensation sending shivers up your spine and you moan softly. Your hips buck up into his and he groans against your chest. “God, baby. I love your tits, did you know that? Could play with them all day.” As if to prove a point he leans down again, dragging his teeth against your nipple and reveling in the way you whine.

“I’d be fine with that,” you inform him, voice cracking in the middle of the sentence as his hand trails down your body to the bottom of your dress, pulling it up over the tops of your thighs. Then his fingers brush over the damp spot in your panties, pressing against your clit through the thin fabric. “Oh, god -”

“Does that feel good, baby?” he asks, voice soft and he already knows the answer, of course, but you drop your head back against the couch with a nod anyway. “Wanna hear your words.”

“Feels so good, p - professor,” you moan, feeling his digits finally dip beneath the hem of your panties, running over your folds without the lace barrier. “Please, Harry, need more …”

You’ve learned, by now, his affinity for hearing you tell him exactly what you want. So before you can hear his smug response of what do you need you swallow and tell him, “Want you to eat me out. Please, professor.”

He drops his head against your chest, moaning lowly, and you can feel his dick growing harder against your thigh. “Fuck. Okay.” He licks a line from your chest up to your collarbone and you wonder if he can taste the gross beer still tainting your skin but - if he does - he doesn’t show it. Acts like he’d just enjoyed the best feast of his life as he glances back up at you, eyes dark. His fingers hook in your panties, dragging them down your legs and dropping them, soaked in your arousal, onto the floor. “Gonna take you to my room, yeah?”

You nod eagerly as he stands above you, and you swing your legs over the edge of the couch, pushing yourself up, and you let Harry intertwine your fingers, leading you across his apartment to the door of his bedroom. When he’s shut the door (shooing Marie away again, who’d followed you in an attempt to enter his room) he tugs his hoodie over his head - his phone flies out of the pocket and lands on the carpet, his hoodie heading towards another corner. Then Harry collapses into the middle of his bed, lying on his back, glancing at you expectantly. His joggers slide ever so slightly down his hips and you watch their descent before flickering your eyes back to him.

You furrow your eyebrows. “Not gonna eat me out then, professor?”

Harry shakes his head. “Never sat on anyone’s face before, I reckon?”

No. Of course you haven’t. Your mouth drops open in a silent ‘o’ and you raise your eyebrows, shaking your head vehemently. He motions you to come over to him and you take a moment to kick off your heels, leaving them in a pile by the door before making your way over to the bed, standing beside him.

“I think you’ll like it,” Harry tells you, and wraps his fingers around your wrist in a loose hold, and you take the cue to mount the bed, kneeling beside him, and his fingers drum against your thigh. “You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. If you don’t, I’ll just do it the old fashioned way. No harm done.”

You nod, swallowing. Any question you have dies on your tongue because you trust him, you know, and you know he wouldn’t do anything to make you uncomfortable.

What’s the harm in trying?

“Alright, then.” He reaches behind him, stuffing a pillow beneath his head. His hand on your wrist drops to your hand, pressing your palms together, and you give him a small smile before adjusting yourself so your thighs are on either side of his head - it’s about as awkward as you’d anticipated, your dress still half covering your arse, and Harry reaches up to pull it up, letting it rest around your hips. His fingertips trail down your thighs - a silent don’t worry and appreciate it. Slowly you lower yourself down onto his mouth, and when you’ve completely settled - your hands resting on his bare abdomen as you lean forward slightly.

You expect to feel his tongue on you immediately but then he pauses, and when he talks you can feel his mouth moving against your cunt. “Siri! Shuffle y/n songs on Spotify!”

You almost roll your eyes when his phone, still on the floor from where it had landed earlier, begins playing Good Vibrations - of course, he can’t do anything without music - but before you can give some sort of snarky remark his tongue is darting up to your clit, flicking the bud gently, and you cry out almost louder than the music.

“Oh, shit, Harry!” you groan, fingertips digging into his stomach as his hands go to your bum, kneading the globes of your ass as his mouth practically attacks your pussy. It’s so much more intense than how it is usually - the Beach Boys in the background, your hips rocking slowly against his face, his soft groans against your core sending vibrations through your body.

Good vibrations, of course.

“Feels so fucking good,” you breathe, dragging your hands further down his stomach. His joggers - the pink ones - are tied loosely and your fingers wrap around the ties, tugging slightly as Harry pushes his tongue inside of you. You can see his dick - thick and looking painfully hard, even through the fabric. Your instinct is to grab his hair but it’s harder in this position so you tug, again, at the tie of his sweatpants until it comes completely undone.

He pauses, momentarily, perhaps wondering what you’re doing - and you don’t even quite know - but soon he resumes his relentless assault on your clit, lips wrapping around the nub and sucking. You cry out, your palm pressed to his stomach and trailing down to the hem of his sweatpants, and when your hand wraps firmly around Harry’s cock he practically yelps into your cunt.

“Jesus, fuck,” you can hear him, muttering against your heat as you pull his sweatpants down further until you can see his cock. Sure enough, he’s hard and heavy in your hand as you shimmy your body ever so slightly forward, causing him to hook his arms around your thighs to keep you close to his face. You crane your neck forward, pumping your hand up and down his cock as you lean forward, wrapping your lips around the tip of his dick, and he moans. It mixes oddly well with the tail end of Good Vibrations as it switches to Sugar Sugar.

The sound rolls through your body and you whimper, lowering your head onto his cock until his length is nearly completely down your throat - you’ve gotten better at fitting him in completely, and you breathe through your nose, counting 1 … 2 … 3 until you hit 10, and then you pull your mouth off of him.

Harry’s nose nudges your clit and your walls tighten around his tongue as he thrusts it in and out of your cunt - you’re so close and you can tell, and you lick up the vein on his cock. He grunts softly, fingernails digging into your ass, and when his tongue flicks over your clit again you cry out, throwing your head back and pumping his cock with your hand.

Your orgasm hits you like a wave and Harry laps up every drop that he can, smoothing his hands over your bum and thighs as you roll your hips against his mouth, riding yourself through his orgasm as you release your grasp on his cock, digging your nails into his stomach as you moan out.

When every reverberation of your orgasm still pulsing through you, you collapse onto his body - then you roll off of him, still feeling the throbbing in your clit as Harry pushes himself onto his elbows, glancing down at you.

“How was that?” he asks, sitting up fully, trailing his fingers up your arm. “First time facesitting. And 69ing, too - it’s a season of firsts.”

You grin lazily at him. “S’that a line from December, 1963?”

He nods, a smile painting his face.

“It was amazing. Of course. It’s always amazing - God, I love you so much,” you tell him, reaching your hand up to rest against his face, and he presses a soft kiss against your wrist. “But…”

“What?”

“I really want you to fuck me.”

Harry raises his eyebrows, and you feel your cheeks burn. His hand tugs at the end of your dress, bunched around your hips. “I really want to fuck you, too.” You sit up, raising your arms so he can pull your dress over your head - you’re left in merely your bra and you reach behind yourself, undoing the clasp and tossing it off the bed. When you’ve lied back down on the bed he takes a minute to stare down at you, and you feel a sudden instinct to cover yourself up - but then he merely says, “You’re so beautiful. I love you -” and he leans down to kiss you, his hands working at pulling his joggers down his legs - “so damn much.”

He takes a moment, dropping his pants to his ankles, to lower his head to your cunt again - tongue lapping briefly at your clit, smirking at the way you jump. Then he pulls his head back and you watch him, propped on your elbows, as he spits, and it lands on your clit and makes you squeal, your stomach flipping. God, you didn’t think you’d love that so much but you want him to do it again and again - something about it is so fucking hot. But he just brings his fingers to your folds, spreading his spit through your already slick pussy, flashing you another smug smirk before leaning back over you.

You loop your arms around his neck, feeling the tip of his cock prodding at your entrance. You’re so wet you’re practically dripping and there’s positively no barrier as he sheathes himself inside of you - you toss your head back with a moan. The first push inside of you is always the best and you take a moment to savor it as Harry grips your thigh, hooking your leg around his waist. And when he pulls out and thrusts back in he brushes that perfect spot inside of you, and you cry out.

Your heel presses into his arse, pushing his body further into yours. Your chests press together, his arm braced over your head as he groans lowly, eyes squeezed shut, and you bring your hand up to his face like he’s done so many times - “Look at me, profess - fuck!”

He does look at you, pupils wide and making his normally green eyes appear just about completely black. Harry’s hand presses to your clit, rubbing fast hard circles as his cock brushes against your g-spot with every thrust inside of you and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling his head into your shoulder, hips rocking into his. You’re already embarrassingly close and with just the right brush against your clit you know you could be cumming already to the sound of I’m a Believer by the Monkees, and it would be heaven.

Like it always is.

Harry’s still muttering into your neck, teeth brushing against your skin as he sends wet, open mouthed kisses across your throat - “So tight, squeezing me so good. God, Iloveyousomuch -”

Your nails drag against his back, your hips pushing up to meet his thrusts, his fingers still working at your clit. You wrap your leg tighter around his waist, burying your head back into the covers with a loud cry and then you’re cumming, walls fluttering around him as his thrusts grew even more unrelentless. You’re not sure you’ve ever cum so fast in your life but you were already so close before you even started and he pulls his head up, slamming your lips together as you ride out your second orgasm with him.

“Think you - fuck - got one more in there for me?” His voice is a hiss through gritted teeth as he straightens up, fucking you harder than ever before on his knees, fingers still plucking at your clit. Your leg drops from around his waist and he grabs your calf, stretching your leg onto his shoulder, and the burn makes everything feel that much better. “Gonna cum again for your professor? I think you can.”

Your hand goes down to his wrist, fingers wrapping around him - it’s too much too fast you’ve just cum you can’t - but you know you can and he does too. And you can tell he’s close - the way he’s losing rhythm, his hips losing the steady pace he’d developed. You drop your hand to your chest, tweaking your nipple between your fingers.

“Fuck, Harry - m’gonna cum - God -” you can’t manage to get out any full sentences, mere fragments, your eyes never leaving Harry’s as you clench around you again. Your third orgasm is the most intense of all, feeling his fingers pinch your clit, his thrusts slowing so they hit every sweet spot inside of you, and you couldn’t have held back if you tried.

His neighbors must think you’re being murdered with the way you scream - the duvet firm in your grasp, your eyes rolling back into your head as you practically spasm beneath him. Harry’s movements slow to a jerky, staccato pace - you can feel him, cumming inside of you, and when you look at him his face is bright red, eyes squeezed shut and mouth open in a soft o.

“Fuck, fuck -” he breathes, hand on your clit dropping to the mattress, and your leg slides off of his shoulder and back onto the bed. You’re fucking exhausted as he pulls out, dropping onto the bed beside you, but not too tired to curl yourself into his arms, your face burning hot and your breathing laboured.

There’s a moment where nothing needs to be said. There’s nothing that you could say that could make this moment any better than it is so you hold your tongue, intent on merely falling asleep with him until he mumbles, “Baby?”

“Hmm?”

He pauses, and you open your eyes, turning your head to glance at him. His eyes are shut as well and you could almost fool yourself into thinking he’d never spoken at all until he finally says, “I love you so much.” You don’t have time to say it back before he’s continuing - “And I think you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met in my life.”

You can feel the beginnings of tears in your eyes - whether it’s the post-orgasm haze and exhaustion overtaking you or just pure love for the man beside you, you’re not sure. “Harry -”

“And, um.” His eyes are still shut and his brows are slightly furrowed as he speaks. “I know we’re kind of already dating but I want to make it official. So … would you like to be my girlfriend?” And then his eyes open, his head turning to look at you, to watch the smile that turns your lips upward.

You tug your bottom lip between your bottom teeth to try and suppress your grin but it doesn’t work - you could never stop yourself from feeling so fucking happy. And you bring your hand to his cheek, brushing a sweaty curl off his face, before breathing, “Of course.”

He leans in, then, kissing you sweetly and - for just a moment - you can forget about everything other than him. Forget about class on Monday, about the people who think you’re sleeping with him. And they’re right, for some of it - but not all. They’ll never really know what you have.

For a moment, all that exists is you and him, wrapped up in each other, bodies curled together and lips pressed gently. And even when the moment passes, and you bury your head into his shoulder, you can’t help but wait for the next to come.

[suicidalslasher]

𝒋𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒚 - 𝒋𝒂𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝒅.

the one where Jason is a jealous  dumbass,  that’s it -  that’s the plot.

WARNINGS: This is a Jason Dean fanfiction, therefore, you all know what you’re signing up for. I don’t really got to tell you, twice. 

  Possessive!Jason. Jealous!Jason. Female reader, reader’s pronouns are she/her. 

Slight mention and scene of choking but it’s not graphic. A hint of NSFW but it isn’t shown. Also there’s a few mentions of blood but it’s not a lot, either. I wanted to tag that nonetheless, too. Also, Jason actually shows emotions in this which is out of character but in MY world, Jason Dean is a simp to his girlfriend and would rather die than to live a day without her. 

I may add the smut scene later on, who knows?  Not me. This is my first imagine of Jason Dean so be nice to me or I’ll be like Ghostface and gut you like a fish (◍•ᴗ•◍)♡ ✧*  

If you enjoyed this story, don’t hesitate to follow and or leave me a request, as they are open. If you also like my work and or have a dollar to  spare, as it will help me write and create more stories like this one, my ko-fi is here. 

Thank you and enjoy :)

White knuckles from clenching his fists too hard, and gritted teeth from effort to remain silent, Jason bit back his words, knowing they'd be harsh and full of  poison.  He's fully aware of how much damage he'd likely cause if he spit out the words that were on his mind.  He was going to break, and he knew it wasn't going to take too long until he did so.   Yet, as the female continued to talk beside him as an attempt to grab his attention, the feelings only grew larger and he dug his teeth into his bottom lip, the metallic taste of blood trickling on the tip of his tongue.   Jason swallowed that anger when it was nothing but a fire-seed and he had forgotten to drink something cold right after, in an effort to calm himself down;   therefore, it grew in his stomach until it came out hotter than any dragon breath.... all those negative emotions that swam in his veins  and crept in the pit of his stomach exploded and all the feelings he desperately was trying to hold back came burning on the one person he loved the most, his girlfriend, (Y/N). His face was red with suppressed rage and when (Y/N)  set her finger on his shoulder, he swung around and mentally snapped, his nostrils flared  and his pupils were blown and dilated  as he snarled like an  out of control beast.  "I hate him more than I do the Heathers," spat Jason,  as he pushes his girlfriend up against the wall, the framed photograph that hung there now remained at the bottom of their feet, shattered into hundreds of pieces.   "I don't like you hanging out with him." Jason growled, his fingers curling around (Y/N)'s throat, feeling her pulse begin to quicken  as he presses his weight down onto the palm of his hand.  "Do you know how much it hurts to see you look at someone else? To see you smile at someone else? It makes me feel sick.”     "Jason... Let go of me. Let's talk. Please? You don't even know him... if you'll let me speak and tell you-"  "You love him, don't you?" Jason hisses, the sentence feeling like a slap to (Y/N)'s face as he throws out this statement.... it was a lie, that's what it was and (Y/N) desperately was trying to tell him how wrong he was but he just wouldn't listen, the arrogant  son of a bitch never listens!    "You love him more than you do me."  Before either teen realizes it, Jason is letting go of (Y/N)'s throat only for him to raise his hand up  into a fist and he's punching the only other framed photograph that was beside her, the glass shattering behind his knuckles. (Y/N) screams in horror and although she's pissed off, she - obviously - still cares about her boyfriend.  "Jason!" (Y/N) yelps, tears falling down her cheeks as she rushes to her boyfriend's side, examining his hand which was now dripping with crimson, a few drops of red landing on the now broken picture frame and the wooden floor beneath their feet. "C'mon, I've got a first aid kit around here, somewhere-" "You love him." Jason repeats, ignoring the fact she was trying to help him.  He pulls his hand back, dropping his arm by his side, not  even caring about the way the blood was falling from his knuckles and staining both his pants and shirt. The anger and venom that once coated his words were now replaced with a hint of sadness and heartbreak.  She's never seen him this upset before.... regardless, if he'd just calm down, she could explain.  "Jason, baby-" His voice broke as he looked up at (Y/N), sad eyes meeting with her confused but angry gaze. On top of those, she was sad, too.   "Go then. Go to him, if you prefer to spend your day with him rather than your own boyfriend. You don't care about me, I'm not sure you ever did."  (Y/N) sighed, shaking her head as a few more tears spill past her cheeks. "Fine. If you won't let me talk and tell you my side of the story, I'm leaving. If that's what you think and if you truly think I don't give a fuck about you, I'm gone." (Y/N) mutters, letting go of his hand as she walks back over to the door, grabbing her keys and wallet before storming out the door, slamming the door shut as she leaves.

A week passes. 

Another week following behind that.  

(Y/N) didn't bother to call or show up.

He really fucked things up, didn't he? 

Jason wasn't huge on  showcasing his feelings and putting them out on display for people to see. The only emotion he was so used to showing was anger and madness. Nothing but chaos was built and stored away in Jason Dean's body, too.  All three traits made him who he was.  People may not like him because of his temper and all the flaws he had but it was him, and he didn't plan on changing for anybody.  Expect.... of course, (Y/N). As he sat alone in his bedroom, he felt depressed. He never cried, either.  Couldn't tell you the last time he ever did cry. Did he even cry as a baby? Jason wasn't sure, nor could he tell you.  

But.... Jason cried. For the first time in forever, he broke down and cried. Couldn't help himself.  By the end of the night, there were no tears left to cry. He had run dry. His body couldn't form any more tears.   Feeling both mentally and physically drained, Jason reached over and grabbed his phone off of the night stand, dialing the one number he actually had memorized.  All he got was her voicemail.   "This is (Y/N). I can't answer the phone at the moment but  I will get back to you as soon as I can! Bye!"  Jason groaned and he was half-tempted to throw the phone out of his window but he decided against it as he left a voicemail, regardless. He wanted (Y/N) to know he was sorry. 

He wanted (Y/N) to know that despite their arguments (which weren't constant but when they did fight, it was mainly due to Jason's behavior rather than her own) he loves her.  

 (Y/N) coming into his life was the only good thing the world had offered and gave him. He wasn't going to give her up. Not that easily, anyways.  "Hey." He had forgotten he was leaving a voicemail, having zoned out for a second, the beep brought him back out of his thoughts.  "It's me. Uh.... Jason.... your boyfriend? I hope so, anyway, still.... But, yeah, it's Jason.... Jason Dean.... ha, uh.... you knew that.

  Listen, I'm sorry for everything,  (Y/N).  I'm sorry for having that temper tantrum and taking out my frustration and jealousy on you. I'm not good at this type of stuff, not so great with showing my emotions in person either, so....

 I'll talk here,  hopefully the message goes all the way through. I don't want to say this in person, again, I'm not good at the whole unraveling my feelings, especially not face to face.

 But... (Y/N), baby, you're the best thing that's ever been mine. You're my darlin', my girl, and I got jealous because I was scared, okay? 

I was scared of losing you. And I'm telling you this because it's been awhile now and I haven't seen you around or heard from you in awhile. Therefore, I may have already lost you but.... I love you, (Y/N)... and I'm sorry, okay? 

Thought you'd never hear me say that, huh? Me, apologizing? That's like... once in a blue moon. Hah.....  

But, uh... well, it's true. I'm sorry and I, Jason Dean, love you, (Y/N) (L/N). And I hope that you still love me too."   With that, Jason ends the call, hanging the phone back up on the table as he falls back onto the bed. He didn't - doesn't - know what to do if he didn't have (Y/N) by his side.   Trying to ignore these thoughts and place his attention elsewhere, he decides he needs to focus on sleeping. His body was exhausted after all that crying, plus the punch to the picture frame was still making his hand ache and throb, despite it being a few weeks since he had done it. 

He had one hell of a nasty bruise, too. He was sure it wouldn't look so ugly and scarred if he  had listened to (Y/N) and taken her up on that offer when she suggested the first aid kit...  Before he knows it, he's drifting off into a deep slumber, naturally bringing a pillow into his chest, tucking it underneath his arm as he falls asleep.   

Faint whispers of (Y/N)'s name spills pass his lips as he sleeps. He'd rather be cuddling her than a pillow but he'll take what he can get. He just hopes she'll accept his apology.  

(Y/N) gets home a little after midnight, sighing heavily and tiredly as she kicks off her shoes and strips out of her jacket, hanging the coat up first before setting her shoes under the rack. She had just finished unpacking and helping her cousin move things in his new apartment and she was exhausted. All she wanted to do was take a shower and go to bed. 

 In the corner of her eye, however, she notices her answering machine is flashing red, letting her know someone had left a voicemail.  She walks over and clicks on the button, expecting it to be for  her parents but instead she's met with a shocking fate - it was Jason.  

Hearing his voice, so weak and vulnerable, brought tears to her eyes and she bit back a sob. Especially when he apologized, that was new. 

They've said those three words to each other before, of course, but it was hearing how sad he sounded that let her know he truly did love her, despite everything they've been through and all the silly arguments they've shared over the past few months; they loved each other. 

 And nothing - nobody - could ever stand in the way of that.   Jason was still a huge dumbass, however. 

And as she grabs her jacket, sliding the thick layer of clothing around herself and dips her feet into her boots, she's quick to go and tell him that, too.  

She loves him, yes, but she needs to let him know he was a  huge fucking idiot. 

Jason, for the most post, was sleeping peacefully until he heard a loud crash coming from downstairs, along with a string of curse words. 

  He was quick to get up, throwing the blanket and pillow aside as he opened his bedroom door and creeps down the hallway, wondering who the hell was in his living room.   

He was met with.... well, not a burglar  neither his father as he would have guessed the next outcome to be but rather his girlfriend.

"(Y/N)? What are you doing here?" He asks, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands as he tried to shake off the remaining sleep that had taken over him not even a few hours ago. 

"I came here to scare you, obviously." She scoffs, rolling her eyes as she scrambles up and off of the floor, brushing her knees and arms from the fall she had taken.  "Your door was locked, couldn't find the extra key anywhere so I snuck in through the window and-"

"And... you're bleeding." Jason said, gesturing to the tiny gash on her arm.   "C'mon, I've got a first aid kit around here somewhere." He mocks, giving her a playful smile as he quoted the words she had said to him the day they got into that fight. 

 (Y/N) said nothing but she follows when Jason offers his hand out to her, anyway.   He was surprised when he did find the small box up in a cabinet.   

"It's fine. I'm fine. Nothing  a bandage won't fix, right?" 

"(Y/N). Why are you here? You never did answer me." Jason said, getting out the tiny box of band-aids, ripping one open as he presses the item down onto her arm. She was right, it wasn't a big cut, a few drops of blood, sure, but it wasn't one that'd get infected.  

"I got your voice message." She said with a shrug of her shoulders. "And I came to talk to you about it."

He wasn't sure whether or not that was a good or bad thing.

 "Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah. You're a dumbass." 

Oh. 

 It was bad. 

He felt his heart drop down to his stomach. He really let his jealousy get the best of him and now he was going to lose the one good thing he had in his life. 

"I love you but you didn't let me speak," She continued.  "That guy you saw... first of all, you have no right to judge him or say you hate him when you have no idea who he is. That dude I was seen with was my cousin, who, may I add, is gay.” 

“I’ve been helping him move which is why you saw me in town with him. We were getting a few supplies and picking up his furniture.” She continues.

“You got jealous over a guy who is far from being attracted to  females. And you know... he's related to me as well, so, that also plays a huge part in it. And if you didn't notice either, the picture you broke was actually a portrait of my family and his together at a family reunion. Of course, you didn't see that, though or probably even noticed but.... yeah, you're a dumbass. I love you, J.D, but you're an idiot for thinking I'd ever love someone more than I love you." 

Jason says nothing, he feels embarrassed, ashamed, but overall; he feels happy, knowing she still loves him, even if he was a total moron.  "I'm sorry, baby, I got jealous and I shouldn't jump so quickly to conclusions  and-"

"And you need to make up for it." She said, pressing her chest up against his, resting her hand on the palm of his cheek, brushing a few stray hairs out from his face as she gives him a seductive look. "And how.... exactly, are you going to make up for it, baby?" She purred. 

"I think I've an idea." He said with a smirk.

"Oh, yeah? While you're at it, can you choke me like you did, too?" 

"I'll do more than just choke you with my hand, darling." 

"To be suffocated and to choke on either your cock and hand would be a blessing, my dear." 

"Then let's go upstairs, shall we?"

(Y/N) smiled and took Jason's hand with her own, giggling as if she wasn't just talking about getting choked by her boyfriend, as if she was some saint rather than a sinner. Fuck... Jason loves how dirty she was. "We shall." He replies, nearly dragging her up the stairs and into his bedroom. 

"Going to show you how much I love you, going to treat you so good, so well, baby girl... missed you so much, love you so much..." 

[duuhrayliegh]

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warnings: none? maybe a smidgen of language? fluffy bucky, bad description of dancing? idk, there really isn’t anything in this one to be warned about it just super wholesome

word count: 2437 

a/n: okay so this came out longer than i meant it to, but i’m not mad at it. there’s mention of he/they pronouns and gender identity, if i didn’t do the subject justice please let me know. also tiktok mentions and all creators are tagged accordingly so please go appreciate their wonderfulness :) 

p.s.: my requests and tag lists are open!! 

if you want to know where these characters are coming from, check out the other parts! you don’t have to read them in any particular order!

ray’s m.list

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

Being from the 1940’s, Bucky didn’t have much education in the world of smartphones and social media. When he came out of cryo in Wakanda, Shuri wasted no time showing him the ways of the iPhone. Honestly, he was stunned because there were so many things you could do with it. So much information was available at the touch of his fingers.

Shuri taught him the ins and outs of the phone. He had gotten pretty good at it, if he did say so himself. She had just begun to teach Bucky about social media when Steve pulled him back to the Big Apple. When he returned to New York, he was able to easily contact Steve, who was not as proficient as Bucky was. So when he met the fantastical group of four friends, they began to teach him. This was one of those things that they were incredibly excited to teach Bucky about.

“So you don’t have an account on anything?” Freddie held his hand out for Bucky’s phone.

“No, I have one on something. I think Instant Graham? My friend set it up for me, but she never taught me how to use it.” Freddie smiled and shook his head, dark curls bouncing back and forth.

“It’s Instagram, bubs and that’s a good jumping off point.” He opened the black iPhone and swiped through the pages on the homescreen. Coming across the sunset colored icon, he hovered his finger over it. The screen changed, opening to a white screen with the words, WELCOME to INSTAGRAM, whitewolf. Bucky smiled at the name displayed and Freddie scrunched his brows.

“What is a White Wolf?”

“I’m the White Wolf. It’s Wakandan. We can change it if we need to.” Freddie looked over at Bucky and saw the happiness on his face at the name.

“No, it’s good we can leave it.” He clicked on the profile button in the bottom right corner of the screen. “Okay, so this is your personal profile.” In the top left corner whitewolf was written with a little arrow next to it facing downward. Freddie opened the edit profile section.

“Do you have a favorite picture of yourself? You have to set a profile picture so people know that it’s you.” Bucky nodded in understanding, and then took his phone back to scroll through his pictures. He didn’t have many, just the ones that he took recently. There was hardly any of just him, but he eventually found one he deemed good enough.

“Alright, now what do you want to put in your bio?” Shrugging his shoulders, Bucky leaned back into Cassie’s plush couch.

“What does yours say?” Freddie pulled his own phone out of his pocket. The pale lilac color seemed to shine through the clear case that it wore. Opening his own Instagram, Freddie leaned the phone towards Bucky.

|| he/they || activist || va te faire voir ||

“What does ‘he slash they’ mean?”

“Oh, those are my pronouns.” Freddie received a head tilt from Bucky, so he decided to elaborate. “So, I identify as a non-binary who is comfortable with you using he/him pronouns or they/them pronouns. If you’re talking about me to someone else, you can say ‘he is at the store,’ or ‘they are at the store.’” Bucky nodded, still a bit confused on the subject.

“When do you use each one? Like is there a certain time that you say he and him and another time for they and them?” Bucky was trying to get some clarification on the topic.

“Not necessarily. Usually, when you’re first talking to someone, it’s common practice nowadays to use they/them pronouns so as to not misgender anyone. I know it probably sounds a bit excessive and a small bit over sensitive to you, but to a queer or non-binary person it makes a whole hell of a lot of difference when someone tries to be inclusive.”

“Okay, so like if I just meet someone on the street, I should use the they/them pronouns until told otherwise?”

“Yeah, absolutely. Do you want to include your pronouns in your bio?” Bucky smiled and nodded, happy with himself that he was able to understand that so well.

“So, what does it mean to be non-binary and still use the he/him pronouns? Don’t those two contradict each other?”

“Not really. Gender is a spectrum, as is sexuality, but for someone to identify as non-binary and use he/they pronouns, means that I feel that not everything about manhood accurately describes my truth. On that same hand, I still do identify as a male.”

“Right, right.” Throughout Freddie’s lesson about gender identity, he was able to finish Bucky’s profile and begin to follow the three girls. After clicking the blue follow button on all three of the girls profiles, the group chat between them started blowing up, that was a new phrase Bucky learned last week.

Evie: um, i just got the weirdest insta notif

Penny: me too???

Cassie: I did too.

Cassie: Wait, who is Bucky with right now?

Evie: DANG IT FREDERICK I WANTED TO HELP HIM SET IT UP

Bucky: My name isn’t Frederick, Evie

Incoming Call from Evie

“What do you want, spaz?” Freddie answered on speakerphone. An indignant scoff  came from the other end.

“I thought we were all going to help him with that, Frederick.”

“Um, I don’t remember us talking about that.” He laughed as the door to Cassie’s apartment opened, allowing Penny to walk in and smile at the two men on the couch. “Also, when were we going to have time to do that with you being at school and all?”

“We were going to wait until the weekend!”

“Eves, you’ve been saying that for the past like three weeks.”

“Oh my gosh, fine.” Her end of the phone got real quiet, “I’ll be home in like ten minutes. I call dibs on helping him set up a TikTok.” Three beeps signalled to the room that Evie had hung up the phone. Bucky turned to Penny and began to ask about her day.

“Ya know, the usual. Rude customers, bratty co-workers, life’s a dream at the bank.” She slipped out of her nude heels and made her way to the sofa. “What have you boys been up to?”

“We have been setting Buck up with some social media and learning about gender identity and respecting pronouns.” Freddie said proudly as he handed Bucky his phone back.

“Sick! Which ones did you do?”

“All the classics, Instagram, Twitter and Facebook just for PR though because hardly anyone uses it anymore.”

“Right, and can’t do TikTok until Evie gets here. Um, did you set up a Spotify for him?” Bucky recognized the name and the memories of Shuri helping him floated in his head.

“Oh, I have one of those. That was actually the first thing that Shuri helped me set up whenever I got this thing.” He opened the app quickly to prove what he was saying. Penny smiled and gave a small thumbs up. “I do have one question.” The two of them gave Bucky their undivided attention. “What is a TikTok?”

“Right, so it’s just short videos. It’s really pretty cool and a really good way to waste time.” Freddie answered while pulling up his own page on the app.

“Yeah, and the thing that shows you videos is curated to your tastes because it’s based on your likes and people you follow.”

“I’m almost positive that Evie is going to teach you a dance and do a TikTok with you, if you agree to it.” Penny laughed at the thought of Bucky doing one of the dances that she saw on her For You page. The door to the apartment swung open a second time, revealing a winded Evie.

She dropped her school bag on the floor, hunching over while gripping the side of the granite countertop. Evie held a finger up and the group on the couch waited for her to speak.

“I ran--” deep inhale, “I ran from the subway.” Another deep breath as she lifted her upper half, stretching out her back with her hands on the back of her hips. “You haven’t done TikTok yet right?”

“No, your Highness, we haven’t done TikTok.” She smiled big and then plopped herself on Bucky’s left side. She thrust her hand toward him, wiggling her fingers. Bucky cautiously placed his phone in the center of her palm.

“This is going to be good. Okay so since your name on Instagram is whitewolf, we can’t use that for TikTok. It’s gotta be something snappy.”

“I don’t know, I think you can use the same one for both, Eve.” Penny remarked as Evie downloaded TikTok onto Bucky’s phone.

“Well, of course you can, but we’re not going to.” She giggled as the app opened. She looked over at Bucky with wrinkled brows. “Do you have any nicknames?”

“Um, Bucky is my nickname.” He said in a duh tone.

“Well, obviously, but do you have any other ones? Like, what do your friends call you?”

“Bucky or Buck, I don’t really have nicknames.” Evie groaned and threw her head back.

“Okay, well let’s think. You’re a Sergeant. Your real name is James Buchanan Barnes. Superhero name is Winter Soldier or White Wolf. You have a metal arm.”

“You’re literally just stating facts, Evie.” Freddie said from the other side of Bucky, who was nodding along in confirmation to Evie’s statements.

“I know! I’m processing. What about vibraniumjames?”

“That’s disgusting.” “Mm, yeah that’s a no from me.” Penny and Freddie talked at the same time.

“metallicsergeant? jamesbby? Any of those tickle our fancy?”

“The first one isn’t terrible, but it’s not great. Why don’t you just use whitewolf like his Instagram? Or you could do iambuckybarnes.”

“Yeah, I’m with Freddie. I like whitewolf or iambuckybarnes, it’s simple. And I am the White Wolf, so yeah.” Bucky said to a disgruntled Evie.

“Oh my gosh, fine. We can always change it later, but this is fine for now.” She set up his profile, making it match the other ones that Freddie had made. Once she was finished with her work, she turned to Bucky and smiled big again. “Now, I can teach you a dance and if you’re cool with it we can post it on your profile.” Bucky shook his head and pulled himself off of the comfy couch beneath him.

“If we’re going to do this, we need to do it right, so don’t hold back on me.” He smiled as Evie squealed in excitement.

“You know, my school friends were just dying to see the day that you got social media.” This statement confused Bucky.

“And why would that be?” Evie laughed as she scrolled through her TikTok feed, searching for the right dance to do with Bucky.

“Well, for one, they think you’re hot and they’re thirsty hoes.” She clicked on the original dance video, showing the screen to Bucky. “And, for two, they love you. Everyone does.” Bucky shook his head at that. He did too many bad things for everyone to love him.

“Hey, remember what we talked about?” Penny said from across the room. “We don’t downgrade our progress. Most of the general public is more forgiving than we give them credit for.” Bucky nodded then focused his attention on the video.

“This is Cardi B’s song Up. People on TikTok have made a challenge of doing this dance to the song. I think it originated with a girl named Mya Nicole. Anyway! We’re going to do this one, if you’re up for it.” Bucky looked at Evie with one brow quirked. There was so much shaking in this. Nonetheless, he shrugged his shoulders., it clearly was making Evie happy so he wasn’t going to take that away.

“Sickening! Okay, let’s start learning it.” It took a good hour and a half to help Bucky move his body in the way that the dance required. By the time they were ready to start filming the actual video, Cassie had walked in.

“What is happening here?” A large smile spread across her face as she watched Bucky and Evie practice one last time. A breathless Evie turned to Cassie.

“Bucky agreed to do the Cardi B Up dance with me.” She then turned to Bucky, “You ready to do this for real?” The tall man beside her shook his head while laughing.

“Yeah, let’s do it.” From the safety of the couch, Freddie, Penny and Cassie were watching the scene before them unfold. Both Bucky and Evie jumped into frame, with their legs spread wide. Throwing their fists in front of them and then behind their legs in time with the music. Bringing their hands above their head to clap and then jumping again, throwing just one hand up at a time.

Shifting to the side, the pair brought the leg closest to the camera up to their waist while hitting it back down with their fist. They both remained facing sideways as they shook the leg they just hit and ran their hands down their torso. The pair did another vertical jump, bringing their knees up to their fists. Once their feet hit the floor, they folded at the waist, slamming their palms flat on the ground.

Smiles were plastered on both their faces as they finished out the dance, knees bent, bouncing their legs back and forth while tossing their hands above their heads. Loud laughter rang out from the three friends in the living room as Bucky and Evie dropped to their butts. The video ended with Bucky and Evie yelling at the other three in the room.

“You’re definitely going to go viral with that one, Buck!”

“Like an infection?” He asked with wide eyes of concern, more peels of laughter rang out.

“No, like famous, lots of people are going to see it.” That relieved and scared Bucky at the same time. He wasn’t quite sure how he felt about it, but he knows that his friends wouldn’t steer him wrong.

“Now we can caption it something cute!” Evie breathed out as she leaned over the couch next to Cassie, who was now curled up beneath a fluffy white blanket.

“Don’t forget to tag the original creator, I hate it when people don’t do that.”

The video was posted with the caption,

iambuckybarnes: am i doing the tiktok right realpokemonevie? dance cr: theemyanicole

And it wasn’t long after posting that Bucky got a call from Steve that he needed to come into the tower.

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

@mishaandthebrits

[smellsfaintlyofvanilla]

author-chan!! can i have angst of annie leonhardt' s/o leaving her after she confesses that she's the female titan:(((

also i wish you luck with your blog ٩( ᐛ )و

tHIS HURT ME TO WRITE, ANNIE DESERVES HAPPINESS!

On another note though, thank you! I’m having fun so far ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Oh, and to preface, this turned out a lot more angsty and violent than I had sort of planned in my head, so if you want something changed, I can easily go back and edit it.

Monster

(Annie Leonhart x Reader)

AU: Canon

Warnings: Slight violence, season 3 spoilers

Category: Angst

Summary: After finding out she is the Female Titan, Annie’s s/o leaves her, leaving her heartbroken and angry.

Words: 2.0K

The most recent scouting expedition was an absolute disaster.

You thought things were going well. One of your first scouting missions, and you had made it far into titan territory without much trouble.

But then, she appeared.

An abnormal for sure. Shown to be fast and agile, plus very intelligent, the Scouts stood no chance. She mindlessly ripped through your comrades in search of Eren, pushing all the way up to the forest, and wiping out almost all of the Levi squad.

Luckily, you were able to make it out of the mission relatively unscathed, physically anyway. Mentally, you were a mess. The experience messed you up for sure, you had never been more terrified of a titan before then. The fear of death that she instilled in you had shaken you to your core, and as soon as you were allowed to leave, you ran to the interior to find solace in your girlfriend, Annie.

Sneaking into the military police dormitories, as you had done many times before, you quietly pushed to the door open, poking your head in in search of the blonde.

You found her alone in bed, staring at the ceiling wordlessly. Her roommate, Hitch, was strangely absent. You wondered if she was getting ready for bed. It was a bit early, as the sun had just began to set, but you figured she may have just been tired.

She didn’t seem to notice you at first, which was unnatural of the usually extremely observant soldier. Still you paid no mind to it, calling out her name.

“Annie?”

She turned to face you, and a small smile graced her lips. But something was very off about it. The smile looked so... pained. Not fake, but pained. Like it hurt her just to smile.

“Can I come in?” You asked, just out of courtesy, since she looked like she had something on her mind.

She nodded, sitting up in her bed and patting the space next to her.

You climbed onto her bed, and the two of your shared a chaste kiss before you hugged her, burying your head in her shoulder. You inhaled slowly, taking in her calming, slightly sweet scent.

“I missed you...” You muttered.

She chuckled just a little, before wrapping her arms around you and falling backwards, pulling you with her so you were tucked into her side. “I missed you too...”

You snuggled closer into her chest, taking deep, relaxed breaths for the first time in days.

You laid in comfortable silence for a few minutes, before you finally started to talk about what had really been bugging you.

“The scouting mission was a disaster.” You said, slightly muffled into her chest. You could’ve swore you felt her breathing hitch and her muscles tense up at the mention of it.

You pulled your head out of her chest, not even waiting for her to beckon you to continue, deciding to keep talking anyway.

“There was this huge abnormal, and she was faster and smarter than any one I’ve ever seen before!” You cried out, not even bothering you control your voice. You needed this experience off of your chest as soon as possible. “She killed so many Scouts! I saw it all with my own two eyes, I thought for sure I was gonna die!” Tears formed in your eyes as you recounted the experience, images flashing through your head and screams ringing in your ears.

Your hands covered your eyes, eyes squeezing shut so tightly that bright colors seemed to flash over your vision as your eyebrows furrowed. Quiet sobs and sniffles escaped your lips.

After a moment, you realized Annie still hadn’t moved an inch. The Annie you know would’ve been shushing your cries and petting your hair, as she’s done so many times before, but right now, she didn’t move a muscle.

Your eyes fluttered wide open, and you bit your bottom lip to suppress your sobs. You shakily moved your head up to look at her. She was completely frozen, even her breathing had stopped momentarily, as she stared at the wall with wide, unmoving eyes. Her expression looked so mortified.

You gasped out loud as it finally clicked, your hands moving from your ears to cover your mouth, and your pure shock immediately stopped the flowing tears. All the pieces fell into place in your mind at once.

The expression on her face was recognizable anywhere. God, how did you not notice it before?!

Guilt.

Confused and panicked, you sat up and scampered to the opposite side of the bed, still in disbelief.

“A... Annie?” Your whisper was barely audible, but compared to the tense stillness of the room, she heard you perfectly. “Tell me it isn’t true...”

You had ignored it. You didn’t want to think about any of it. You didn’t want to think about how similar the female titan looked to her, or how the female titan had the same martial arts technique as her, or how strange she had been acting lately, especially now after the attack. You still clung to hope that, maybe, just maybe, you were wrong.

She finally sucked in a breath harshly through her clenched teeth, lowering her head in shame and hiding her eyes from yours.

“I...” She whispered. The tone in her voice almost made you pity her. She sounded so sad, like a kicked puppy. The furrow in your brow softened, but you remained on guard until she finished her sentence.

“I’m so sorry... Y/n...”

At that moment, you felt a switch flip in your mind. This was no longer the Annie you knew. She wasn’t the Annie that would lean on you silently during mealtimes, or the Annie that would kiss you on the forehead when you woke up together, or the Annie that smiled lovingly whenever you told her that you loved her.

No, not anymore. This was a monster. She was a monster.

Burning rage and heartbreak coursed through your veins, taking over your body as you lost any control you may have had. She didn’t need to try to apologize. She didn’t deserve forgiveness.

You grabbed her by the shoulders, and before she even had the chance to react, you tackled her off of the bed and onto the creaky wooden floors of the dorm, landing on top of her with a loud thud.

She shut her eyes and winced in pain for a moment, but she opened them to look at you. As soon as her eyes met yours, you saw them widen with fear. Not fear for her safety, she could easily beat you in a fight if she wanted to. No, this fear was different, it was something she had feared since she first started to fall for you. And right now, it seems that fear was becoming reality.

“WHY?!” You screamed, still hovering over her. Despite your anger, your face appeared distraught, tears falling from your eyes and onto her cheeks. The tears she usually wiped away endearingly were now flowing from your eyes, and it was all because of her.

“This whole time, you pretended to love me, while you were really just our enemy? Do you have any idea how many died because of you?! What are you doing this for?! WHY, ANNIE, WHY?!”

Tears fell from Annie’s eyes as she struggled to form a coherent sentence.

You remained on top of her, waiting impatiently for an answer. “Well?!”

“I... Y/N please... I’m sorr-” Her sentence was cut off as you raised your fist and struck her in the nose with all your might. Her head flung to the side, blood already spurting from her face.

“Don’t give me that sorry bullshit! You aren’t sorry at all! You just want to save your hide!”

You sat up from your previous position, but your knees stayed grounded on the floor to either side of her. You stared at her, your expression broken and unremorseful.

“You’re a traitor...” Your voice dropped to a solemnly low pitch, and a pained, almost hysterical laugh ripped through your throat. You calmed down within moments, however, and stared into her eyes. If looks could kill right now, she would be dead on the floor in an instant.

“You stood there with us and swore to fight against the titans... and then you went on to kill your own comrades... do you feel no remorse?” You shook your head, looking away as if she didn’t even deserve your acknowledgement. “You never deserved to wear the uniform. You should never have joined the ranks.”

You stood up, heading for the door. You turned to look at her once again, only to see that she hadn’t moved an inch, her head still facing to the side, looking away from you.

“Tch.” You turned around, twisting the doorknob and pushing the door open slowly.

“I can’t believe I thought I loved you,” You took a step out of the door. “You monster.”

---

Annie panted in front of the mirror, gripping the sides of the porcelain for support. The blood still leaked from her nose, the metallic taste making its way into her mouth and coating her tongue.

She looked at the mirror, and a stranger stared back. A stranger whose faced was still stained with tears. A stranger who was afraid. A stranger who, deep down, ached for her lover to return.

She should’ve known. Hell, Reiner warned her several times.

“I know you care about her, Annie, but you can’t get attached to, let alone involved with Y/N. It sacrifices the integrity of our mission as warriors.”

She winced at the memory, closing her eyes and trying to block it out. Still, his words wrapped itself around her brain.

“Besides, you know it well. We’re sinners, Annie. Monsters. We have a duty to serve, but that’s it. People will hate us simply for being born into this program, for inheriting our titans. Y/N is no different.”

She stared back into the mirror. The stranger who looked back had really believed that she could do it. That Y/N wouldn’t hate her when she inevitably found out her secret. How foolish, believing that she could be forgiven.

A sudden rush of anger and frustration washed over her, and her hand left the sink and struck the mirror in front of her. The reflection shattered, and the glass fell to the ground.

She didn’t bother to wash the blood off of her hand, or even pick the tiny shards of glass out of her hand before she punched the empty wall where the mirror used to be.

*POW*

She knew it, she always knew it, years before even being given her orders.

*POW*

Of course she knew it, how could she not?

*POW*

But she didn’t want to be reminded of it.

*POW*

She didn’t even want to think about it.

*POW*

She didn’t want it to be told to her face like that.

*POW*

And especially not by her.

*POW*

No matter how she faced it, she was just...

...

A monster.

---

She huffed in the midnight air as she ran, holding her limp right hand. It wouldn’t take a genius to look at it and tell immediately that she had shattered many of the bones in her fingers, but that didn’t matter right now. You knew her secret, and it wouldn’t be much time before you told the others.

She ran as fast as she could, skidding to a halt in front of the cabin that she unfortunately knew all too well.

---

Reiner awoke with a start, a painful sensation covering his chest. As he opened his eyes slowly, the blurry silhouette in front of him delivered another swift kick to his ribs. He groaned painfully as the silhouette began to clear.

“Annie?” Confusion and fatigue laced his speech heavily. Across the room, Bertholdt began to stir awake.

“Reiner,” She spoke. His eyes widened as he gazed into her eyes. The icy blue orbs appeared as though no one was behind them. She looked broken, as if a painful realization had shattered her entire world. “Get up. Now.”

“Huh?” He sat up, noticing her battered and bruised hand, only heightening his confusion.

“We’re going to go get Eren.” She spoke, an eerie monotony to her voice.

“Whether you like it or not,” She continued. “This mission ends today.”

SAAHFKSJHLDFSKHACKJH I NEVER WANT TO WRITE ANNIE IN PAIN AGAIN I FEEL SO BAD AAAAAAAAAAA

also, i put so much effort into this, but it feels really bad for some reason :|

Also I couldn’t write Annie punching the wall without comparing her to a Kyle™ lol.

Well, still, I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know if I should change anything.

[marshmallow-phd]

Scarlet Moon

Genre: Scarlet Heart Ryeo!AU, Time Travel!AU, Alternate History, Royalty!AU

Pairing: OC x EXO OT9

Summary:  This isn’t Gwen’s time. She was from the modern era, with technology and electricity. But during a solar eclipse, she’s transported back into a previous life in a time and place she does not know. Now, as the foreign daughter of a merchant living in a prince’s household, she must tread carefully, watch her back, and guard her heart. But with the princes locked in a battle over the throne, the chances of her making it out alive might disappear.

Part: 1 I 2 I 3

                                        ********

The bright sun felt warm against Gwen’s skin. Chae Ryung half-heartedly chastised her about burning her face, but Gwen hardly gave a listen. It felt like it had been years since she’d simply stopped and took in the light. All she ever did was go to work, do her schoolwork, and watch dramas. She never really took much time for simply… being. After a minute or so, Chase Ryung convinced her to keep walking through the courtyard, but she still went slow, taking in everything.  

The other servants would stop in the middle of their work and glance at Gwen in a fashion they might have thought was sneaky, but was, in fact, fairly obvious. Some gave looks of concern, others, it felt like, of awe. Gwen ran her fingers through her hair, the red catching in the sunlight. She stuck out more here than she ever did back home and it made her stomach queasy. 

“So, Chae Ryung,” Gwen finally said, “what is it that I usually do during the day?”

“All day?” she echoed. She pursed her lips side to side as she thought. “Mostly you keep Lady Hae company. She’s a bit lonely as Prince Suho’s wife. You’re the closest to her station here.”

Suho. An interesting name for a prince. I remembered Papa inquiring after the pale but beautiful woman in ornate clothing. “And she’s sick?”

Chae Ryung nodded sorrowfully. After looking over her shoulder, she lowered her voice as she leaned in. “Some are worried that she doesn’t have much longer and the prince still doesn’t have an heir.”

“Is it that bad?” 

Chae Ryung nodded again. Gwen’s heart went out to the beautifully tragic woman. In the single moment she’d met the Lady of the household, Gwen could tell that she had a kind heart. The look of worry and concern was etched in her mind, not a single twitch giving away possible deception. Spending her days with Lady Hae didn’t seem like too terribly a time. Perhaps she could be another person to lean on, to help Gwen when she stumbled. Because she would certainly be stumbling every other step in this place. 

Gwen and Chae Ryung wandered around the grounds for hours, the latter filling Gwen in on what she couldn’t put together for herself. 

Apparently, this Gwen had had a tendency to be a bit rambunctious, taking liking to archery just as much as needlework. Often, she would be caught joining in the servant boys in whatever rough game they were playing that day. Not exactly a good look for the daughter of a wealthy merchant. It had to be a comical sight, the horrified looks this girl must have produced from the other women around the household as a child. But over the last few years, she’d calmed to be a bit more demure. Chae Ryung went into explaining the wide gray area Gwen was given as an outsider. Though this girl knew the rules of society, she was able to bend them ever so slightly. 

Excellent. 

Coming up on the path was a pond, round and expanding, the edges lined with tall grass and fresh flowers that gave off calming scents. A family of little ducks floated on top of the clear water. Fish in bright colors of oranges and yellows swam freely, their tails creating the slightest ripples on the surface. As they walked around the water, Chae Ryung described a beautiful gazebo that this Gwen apparently loved to hide away in when she wanted to be alone. Disappointingly, though, the gazebo was already occupied by the Prince and Lady Hae. 

Looking like a happy but conservative couple, they drank tea together and spoke softly. Prince Suho smiled at his wife as he brought the teacup to his lips, but as his eyes drifted over to the spot where Gwen stood, the smile changed. 

It deepened, almost. An uncomfortable feeling settled in Gwen’s stomach. She smiled back, though, and waved, to remain polite. She was probably reading into things or misunderstanding them. Prince Suho held back a laugh before turning back to his wife. She still didn’t fully understand the dynamics of this world and could easily misinterpret his actions. And her head still slightly throbbed, so that could be clouding her thoughts as well. 

“It’s inappropriate to stare at a married couple’s private moments,” a high voice snipped. 

Confused, Gwen turned to find an elegantly dressed girl close to her age. Or, rather, this body’s age since this Gwen was a few years younger than the body she’d left behind. 

This new girl’s face was pretty, but it was destroyed by the snobbish and self-satisfied look she wore. Chae Ryung bowed deeply, but Gwen stayed erect. Bowing was not something that came as second nature to her and she didn’t want to do it for just anyone. Not surprisingly, this defiance deepened the annoyance on the girl’s face even more. Sensing danger, Chae Ryung forced Gwen into a bow.

“Greetings, Your Highness,” Chae Ryung said with a shaky voice. She gave Gwen a pointed glance that was ignored. 

“Apparently, not only have you forgotten your memories, but the few manners you ever had as well,” her highness sniffed. “I would be happy to be your teacher. Maybe we can make you a more respectful person this time around.” 

“Perhaps we have two different definitions of respect.”

It was subtle, but the girl’s smile strained, stiffening and tightening in the corners. Gwen knew that irritated look all too well from high school. The girls of the popular crowd would often shift into this body language whenever Gwen ignored their insults or countered them with a response they weren’t expecting. It had made her extremely unpopular, but that was never important to her. All she ever cared about was getting out and graduating. It was sad that mean girls had existed back in this time as well.  

“How dare you speak to me that way,” the girl hissed. “You think because you’re a freak of nature you can do and say as you please?”

“Just because I look different from you doesn’t mean that I’m a freak of nature!” Gwen shouted. Her nails dug into her palms as she tried to reign in the urge to respond physically. That particular subject had always been a sore spot for her. She didn’t think she was ugly, per se, but she wasn’t a beauty. Society’s standards, as ever changing as they were, always felt too far out of her reach. “Pretty” was not something she ever saw in the mirror. And, unfortunately, this body held the same face. 

“What is going on here?”

Gwen stiffened at the Prince’s voice behind her. Slowly, she turned around and bowed deeply. Prince Suho had abandoned his wife at the gazebo to investigate. She hadn’t meant to ruin his date, especially since they probably didn’t get many moments like this. “I’m sorry for disturbing you, Your Highness.”

Prince Suho looked past her to the girl and then back at Gwen. “Perhaps, it’s best for you to go back inside, Lady Gwen. I don’t want you to tire yourself out and I fear it might get colder. ”

Nodding, Gwen bowed again and walked away. There was no point in arguing. Besides, she didn’t want to hang around this self-important girl, who she didn’t dare give a passing glance to and give her the satisfaction of besting her. Once out of sight, however, Gwen’s bravado deflated. 

“Who was that girl?” She bit her bottom lip in a very unladylike manner as she slouched against the outer wall of a red-painted building. 

Chae Ryung tutted nervously. “That was Princess Yeon Hwa. You’re lucky that her brother stepped in.”

That girl was Prince Suho’s sister? Gwen shuddered, feeling sorry for Suho since he had to be related to her. “Mom always said I was too spiteful. But I wasn’t being disrespectful by looking for five seconds. They just looked like a scene out of a movie.”

“A movie?”

Oh, crap. There you go again. “A novel. I meant a novel. They looked like a scene from a book.”

“Oh!” Chae Ryung nodded, though she wore an expression of confusion. “Still it would have been better to apologize and walk away.”

Gwen shrugged. “Maybe next time.” 

Looking up at the blue sky, Gwen wanted to pout. It was such a nice day. Even with these layers of clothes, she wasn’t too hot and a nice breeze played with her hair. But Prince Suho had told her to go inside. He must have figured she would cause less trouble there. He also said it might get colder. Gwen hated being cold. 

“When I have to stay inside, where do I like to go?” she asked as she looked ot her friend. 

Chae Ryung grinned from ear to ear. She seemed excited as she took hold of Gwen’s wrist and pulled her along to a building near the middle of the compound. It wasn’t a large building, with spaces barely able to be called rooms. That hardly deterred the excitement bubbling up in Gwen’s chest. 

Inside were wooden shelves, thin and easily seen through. But unlike the thick, hardbound novels Gwen was used to, the books stacked here were thinner, flimsy and held together with twine. Another servant girl shuffled up before they stepped into the room. Chae Ryung was needed elsewhere. She urged Gwen to go on ahead and stay at the library for a few hours. 

Within the shelves, she lost herself. 

Reading was always a comfort to Gwen, but she tended to lean towards adventurous fiction filled with romance and challenge. She doubted she would find such stories in the Prince’s library. If she could even read these manuscripts. 

Gwen blinked, reflecting on her presence here. Somehow, she was able to communicate with the others despite the fact that they weren’t speaking English. The real Gwen’s knowledge - at least, with speaking and reading - somehow had remained behind. As her eyes drifted over the Chinese characters written on the spines, she understood what they said. A small laugh escaped her lips. She’d always wanted to know more than one language. All it took was being transported back in time to a different body. 

From what Gwen could make out of the titles of the volumes, they were mostly science based - medical treatments and catalogs of animals and plants - along with a few recorded histories. There were no fictional stories to be found, so Gwen went for the next best thing and grabbed a book that recounted the story of how King Taejo founded Goryeo. 

The wording was a bit dry and straight forward, the author giving only the occasional flourish here and there. Still, like any written word, it absorbed her attention. To receive a recount of history from a source so close to the time that it happened was not to be taken lightly. Gwen walked through the aisles as she read, unaware that another visitor had arrived. In the middle of a sentence about a deciding battle, her pacing was stopped by a soft wall. She looked up and sucked in her breath. 

Prince Suho.

She bowed, thinking that her back would start aching from all this bending over. “I’m sorry, again, for earlier,” she whispered. It was a sincere apology. Though it wasn’t her fault, she’d egged it on and caused the Prince trouble, which in turn could cause trouble for this Gwen’s father. Both men had been kind to her since she woke up and she didn’t want to repay that kindness by being a burden. 

Instead of acknowledging her apology, Prince Suho asked, “Do you really not remember anything?”

Gwen shook her head, unable to meet his eye. She could feel his gaze seering onto her face, however. Warmth tickled at her cheeks and she hoped that it wasn’t a visible heat. The Prince was handsome, with a strong chin and kind eyes. He spoke softly.

“Do you remember why you were at the bathhouse?”

Gwen snapped her head up, confused. Why would he be asking her about a bathhouse? “The bathhouse?” She knew nothing about a bathhouse or what this Gwen would be doing there. 

He sighed. “Truly?” Did he not believe her? Did he think she was faking it to avoid getting into trouble? 

“I-” she stopped. Would she be punished for something she didn’t even do? She tried to be as sincere and honest as possible. She didn’t know what could be done to her if he didn’t believe her. “I’m sorry. I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Prince Suho didn’t look receptive to her answer, but he backtracked anyway as he looked away. “Perhaps I was merely seeing things,” he murmured to himself. Regaining eye contact, he took a step to shorten the space between them. “When I invited you and your father to stay here, I took it upon myself to look after you, knowing your foreignness would make you a target. I’m afraid I’ve neglected on that duty. It has caused Lady Hae great worry.”

Gwen took a step back, her hands behind her back. “No, I’m the one who should be sorry. I think I’m causing you more trouble than I’m worth. I promise, I’ll watch my steps from now on. The last thing I want is to be in the way. If you need anything, I’ll do it. I want to be a help, not a burden.” He nodded, the expression on his face softening slightly. Feeling the conversation was over with that last declaration, she bowed and scurried out of the library after replacing the historical text. 

With that haven now compromised, Gwen concluded the best place for her to go was back to her room until dinner. 

                                                    ********

After a few days of managing to stay out of trouble, Gwen ran into Lady Hae on one of her leg-stretching walks. She didn’t seem to be upset about the incident at the gazebo, though she was disappointed that Gwen hadn’t come to see her. Gwen stumbled through an apology, not realizing that she would be so missed. In fact, she thought she was doing everyone a favor by staying out of the way. 

Accepting the apology, Lady Hae asked if Gwen would like to learn how to make lotus lanterns for the upcoming festival. Gwen raised her eyebrows in surprise. Thinking it would be fun and distracting, she agreed and followed Lady Hae to one of the buildings with open walls that allowed a gentle breeze to keep them cool. The temperature hadn’t dropped like Prince Suho had predicted. When Gwen saw who was already at work in the building, she instantly regretted her decision to join. A groan was barely suppressed as she sat down beside Lady Hae.

“Lady Hae, I see you brought a friend,” Yeon Hwa sneered cheerfully. 

It took willpower, but Gwen managed to ignore the princess’s snide remark, instead focusing on Lady Hae’s explanation of how to put the lanterns together. The glue had a potent smell that stung at Gwen’s nose. No wonder they were in a building that allowed the air to drift in and out. It took a few poor looking lanterns for her to get the hang of it, but finally they looked worthy of being hung up for other people to see. Glancing over at Yeon Hwa’s, Gwen huffed internally. Though they were the same design, the princess’ were begrudgingly far superior.

“Lady Gwen,” Yeon Hwa called out. A faux-sweet smile stretched across her lips. “Why don’t you go take the dry lanterns and put them in the Moon building for storage until the festival?” 

Gwen returned a smile just as fake. “Of course.” 

Chae Ryung, who had joined the group soon after Gwen’s arrival, stepped forward. “I can take them, my lady.”

 “Lady Gwen is perfectly capable of carrying them herself,” Yeon Hwa snapped. The evil look gleamed in her eyes, as if she were punishing Gwen with such menial labor. 

Little did she know the request didn’t bother Gwen in the slightest. She was giving the perfect excuse to leave her presence. While making the lanterns, Gwen’s mind had wandered towards the village beyond the walls and - with everyone occupied here – sneaking out on her own should be easy enough. She wanted to see more of this world that she now resided in. 

Filling up her arms with as much as they could carry, Gwen shuffled up the hill, following the directions Chae Ryung had given to the Moon building. 

“Gwen, you’re out of your room.”

Papa walked up, a smile on his face causing the corners of his eyes to crinkle. He seemed out of place in the Goryeo fashion he donned, yet comfortable as the shiny fabric swayed around his legs. He wore the hanbok with dignity and ease. Back home, Gwen prefered less complicated clothing and was still adjusting to the multilayered dresses that needed an extra pair of hands to put on.

“Yes,” Gwen said. “I was helping Lady Hae make lanterns for the festival.” She held them up proudly for him to see.

“Those are very beautiful,” he complimented. Gwen’s smile stretched farther across her lips at the praise. “I’m happy to see that you’re getting back to your old self.”

The joy in his eyes was almost too overwhelming. Gwen thought back to her own father, with whom she was close. They seemed so much alike. Tears threatened to brim her eyes. Within the last few days, she’d grown an affection for this man. He was patient with her and caring. And, as an outsider himself, a small connection that she clung to. “I’m happy that you’re happy, Papa.”

“I have some business to oversee at the house. Please, stay out of trouble.” He gave her a kiss on the head and resumed in the direction he was headed before.

Continuing on her own way, Gwen barely reached the steps of the Moon building before a man in brown clothes ran, bowed, and took the lanterns to store them. He must have been a servant in the Prince’s household. She hadn’t seen him before but she gladly handed the lanterns over. Thankful that her task was now over, she waited and watched as the servant hung the lanterns up on a long string inside the open doors. Now it was time to explore. Taking a different path, she headed for the gate.  

This place was certainly different. Monarchies weren't as widespread in her own time, most nations having moved on to people-elected governments instead of blood-appointed kings. Though it was different, Gwen appreciated the underlining respect that drove this culture. The differences in formal and informal speech and the hierarchy of that respect ran deep within the people. The mutual heritage they all shared made her a bit jealous. She was from a place that didn’t have that. 

The sound of drums broke through her thoughts. They were deep, rhythmic, calling out to anyone who wanted to listen. Answering the call, Gwen followed them. 

In a giant dirt courtyard near the palace stood about six figures, some dressed in red, others in black. They were spaced equally apart in a square structure. Gwen hid among the archways, too fascinated to walk away like she should have. The figures danced in unison and with power – except one of the men in red, who was lacking enthusiasm and proper rhythm. The others noticed and stopped their dance, the drums fading out as well. They all stared at the one who had finished incorrectly as he flopped down to the ground. Gwen covered her mouth to soften the giggled. He was throwing a fit. A grown man by the looks of him, he was acting like a spoiled child. Among the figures was Prince Suho, who seemed exasperated at the situation.

So, those must be the other princes. 

This festival must be important, if royalty was performing. Gwen made a mental note to have Chae Ryung explain it in more detail when she went back to the compound.

A few of the princes ganged up on the one on the ground, criticizing him for still getting the moves wrong after such a long practice. Huffing, the one on the ground jumped up. He pointed a long finger and accused another brother of making a mistake as well. Gwen laughed loudly at their altercation, the noise pushing through her fingers. Prince Suho glanced up in her direction. She took off, scared to be caught. 

Once among the common people, Gwen’s mind eased. She wandered around the city, trying to ignore the whispers and stares that followed. The market was abundant with people. Men gossiped with their friends while the women picked over the vegetables and meats, inspecting for any impurities. Children played loudly and ran through the streets, uncaring if their feet were covered in mud. Different stalls caught Gwen’s attention, some selling soaps and bath grains, others selling intricate hairpins that sparkled under the sun. She made a mental note to ask Papa to come with her next time to buy a few wares. Maybe Chae Ryung could teach her how to place the pins in her hair. 

Leaving behind the market, Gwen came to a small bridge over a shallow river. The water flowed steadily, uninterrupted. She stared down at her blurry reflection, wondering how she could still look so much like herself. There was no railing to obstruct the view, so she bent down for a closer look. 

The face looking back was still round and pale, the soft jaw line giving a youthful appeal. Red hair fell natural, gentle waves that never liked to obey. Not even the multiple hairpins keeping it out of her face could tame it completely. Sea green eyes sat in hooded sockets on either side of a thin nose and average lips. Freckles dotted the bridge of her nose and apples of her large cheeks from years of sun exposure. Forced to come back to a time that wasn’t hers, the least magic could have done was improve her looks. 

The cries of the villagers reached her ears too late. Searching for the source of the hysterics, Gwen stood and turned as the villagers ducked out of sight. A mad man on a black horse galloped through the market. The rider didn’t care about others around him. He didn’t look back behind him or stop to check on those who dived out of his path. A villager with a traveling pack hanging from his shoulders scurried across the bridge to run away from the rider. In his haste, he knocked into Gwen. She lost her balance, flailing her arms worthlessly, and began to fall into the river that had served as my mirror just moments ago. She closed her eyes and braced for impact with the surly cold water. But it didn’t come.

A steadfast grip snatched her by her waist. When she opened her eyes to see who had saved her from the water, she was face to face with the rider.