#and there’s not much proofreading. just a long typed post full of thoughts that happened within 10 knighted.

[fenharel-babe]

I find it so sad that during the break up scene, he really just pours his heart out to Lavellan. He says how she’s beautiful, unique, and I know he doesn’t say it, but she’s able to literally make him almost forget his plans, make him feel like a normal man. And I still love that even if Lavellan keeps the vallaslin, Solas doesn’t show hate or be rude about it! Lavellan is hesitant to tell him no because she doesn’t want to upset him or hurt his feelings, so she goes about it slow.

“I know you told me this because you wanted to help, but the vallaslin is part of who I am. I hope you can see past—”.

“Stop. You are perfect exactly as you are.”

He accepts it, doesn’t pressure her, and reassures her that he still sees her and not the marks. He just sees her.

But when the marks are taken off, he looks happy (or relieved maybe?) and tells her how she is free. She’s always technically been free, but now he thinks she is truly free from something cruel. He remembers what he told the other elves, the elves he tried to save.

And I think about that one theory that when he looks at her with such love and remembers what he wanted to tell her, he snaps out of it. He loves her and he told her. Truly told her in words and not just actions. He spoke his own truth and realized that it was too much. He loves her too much, and he could see that she loves him, too. I think Lavellan literally saying, “I love you,” hurts him even worse because now he definitely knows she feels the same.

They both feel love and it’s strong, but still. He pulls away because her face, her entire being, and his entire reason for bringing her there makes him remember that he can’t do it. He can’t love her and drag her into another big mistake. He wanted to tell the truth to her, but my heart always likes the sad idea of him being afraid of being so close to her and having her truly hate him. Hate him for what he is, so he hid. He had another truth to tell her if he got scared, so he chose that path instead.

And he chose to leave her, even if it would break both of them.

And don’t think he doesn’t know what will happen when he goes back to Skyhold. You think he doesn’t know about her relationship with the others? How protective Dorian is of her, how Varric takes in little details about her and cares about her more than he lets on, Bull trusting her even if she is a mage and abandoning the Qun partly because of her, Cole being happier around her and wanting to help both of them but ultimately choosing her, Vivienne looking down on him even more and telling Lavellan that she deserves better and actually letting her walls down to comfort her dear friend, Cassandra’s disgusted grunts he thought only Varric would receive on occasion, he senses Sera’s pranks or even catches her doing some of them and they’re not just pranks, no, they’re definitely some dangerous ones to cause harm, and Blackwall no longer speaking to him as a friend or acting as if they could’ve gotten along he just gives him dirty glances and refuses to speak to him unless he has to.

He knows this, and I always imagine a part of him is a little happy knowing that she has people by her side, people (other than soldiers and workers) caring for her well being and doing everything to make her happy. Not just for the inquisition, but for HER. He knows it will happen, and I think that also adds to his guilt and pain even more. He may not have been close to all of them, but he held certain respect to them (maybe except Vivienne or Sera) and actually did care about their well being, but now the relationship is broken and damaged because of how much he loves Lavellan and how much she loves him, and how stupid he is.

And Solas may be good at hiding the truth and such, but when he breaks up from Lavellan and the emotional choice is chosen, he backs away from her and avoids her hands even if she reaches out for him, and literally turns around and walks away so…brokenly. His face is just completely showing his sadness and how he regrets his decision but has to do it. He can’t even keep the mask up anymore, and it falls and he kinda looks like he’s about to fall to his knees from emotion.

Is it to beg for forgiveness from her? Maybe. Is it falling to his knees to cry out his pain and regret at what he has broken? Most definitely. If he let it happen anyway.

It’s just SO MUCH PAIN.

My thoughts are in a rush and not making too much sense, but each time I see the break up scene and see Solas kiss her and grab her butt and then break up with her even if she begs him not to leave and how he BROKENLY WALKS AWAY makes me so sad. I just think about it a lot.

But how y’all doing? Hope you’re doing great.

[satoruxx]

PARACOSM OF THE GODS.

PAIRING: gojo satoru x f!reader, geto suguru x f!reader | 11.5k words

SUMMARY: ok here we go, canon au, angst, fluff, best friends being in love, stsg being whipped but unable to express it, reader is clueless as usual, timeskips, canon compliant deaths, bittersweet, longing, mutual pining, emotionally stunted teens, dad!gojo makes an appearance, hopefully that’s it i'm tired of typing

RHEYA'S NOTE: highkey lowkey stressed posting bc this has been sitting in my wips for 4 years now. i honestly didn't have to add much to it i basically just proofread. but yeah when you maladaptive daydream and create a plot where you're a character in jjk and you're also in love with gojo and geto this is what happens. a little sad to let this go but it's time !! plus i can add more parts later. but anyways pls lmk what you think, i'm super curious to know <33

i. the unknown

satoru's first impression of you is anything but kind.  

his words come casually, free into the wind without care, and they aren't meant for you to hear. instead, they fall only to suguru's ears, evoking a deep chuckle and a slight shake of his head. his bangs swish a little with the movement, but satoru is too busy eyeing you over the frame of his shades to notice. 

you're lucky to have not heard it, because the intent with which it was said would have probably made your brow tick with frustration. he says it without a thought, as if he hasn't the slightest bit of interest in you as hints of arrogance fill his tone. 

"who's the rookie?" 

satoru and suguru sit outside against the patio railings of the classroom they had chosen for the day. it overlooks the grounds of the school, where they have a clear view of who approaches the main entrance. suguru absentmindedly clicks his lighter—shoko had gone to get another pack of cigarettes. 

it is from this higher point that they have a clear view of you. you're so obviously new to this, satoru thinks as he watches how you awkwardly stand in front of yaga sensei. 

he already wants to label you as a side character. it's mean, he realizes—cruel even, but he can barely bring himself to care. 

"yaga sensei mentioned that there'd be a new student joining us this week," suguru says, fingering the bangs hanging in front of his eyes. they roam over you with only slight interest before uttering your full name, just as his teacher had said it.

satoru repeats it with a hum. "not a big name or anything. a small-sized family of sorcerers i think." he shrugs carelessly. "but honestly i never really paid attention to all those stupid clan and jujutsu family lessons." 

suguru only responds with a good-natured chuckle, tearing his eyes away from the scene to look at his friend. "no shit." 

the two sit in quiet silence, watching yaga's lips move in structured, emotionless greetings as he shakes your hand. satoru is especially focused on the hunching of your shoulders and the way your eyes nervously dart around. 

suguru is the first to interrupt the peace. 

"maybe she's strong?" 

"are you kidding?" satoru scoffs as he stands up straight, shoving his fists into his pockets. he turns his nose up slightly. "that's not the attitude of someone who's confident in their abilities." 

ii. routine 

"can i ask you guys a question?" 

a cool breeze tickles your skin, goosebumps rising in its wake, and you suppress a shiver. the smell of the air tells you winter is fast approaching. 

"you just did," satoru hums, his snowy hair splayed out against stems of green grass. suguru's chuckle reverberates deep in his chest, and you have to push back an exasperated smile. 

"another one then," you press, leaning over satoru's face to force yourself into his view. his blue eyes pierce through yours over the dark-rimmed frames of his glasses, and even after seeing them so many times, they still feel as dominating as the first. he hums again, and you take that as your cue. 

"what did you first think of me when we met all those months ago?" 

satoru sits up quickly, and you can already feel your shoulders dropping when you catch a glimpse of the teasing smirk on his lips. he shifts so that he's directly facing you, leaning close so that the two of you are barely a palm's distance from one another. 

"thought you were an annoying little rookie~" he sings and you immediately shove at his shoulder.

"'m not a rookie anymore," you huff, and satoru laughs joyously. suguru only grins, his eyes darting between the two of you happily. satoru moves himself into a proper sitting position, digging his long fingers into your bag of chips and popping one into his mouth. you swat at his hand, even though you don't mean it, because though you complain about gojo satoru all the time, you would give him the whole world if you could. 

you and satoru take turns reaching into the bag. you wonder if the sound of crunching disturbs suguru. he's not asleep—he's just doing that thing where he keeps his eyes closed and escapes to his own land of tranquility. you'd like to give him as much peace as you can, so you stay quiet. satoru does too, but you think that's just because you aren't talking to him. 

the quiet is nice when you're with them. sometimes silence makes you feel alone—paranoid. it feels like there is some impending doom hovering over your shoulder, and all you can do is wait for it to come. but with them it is different. you know that any danger in the quiet will be caught by the two of them. maybe that's why it's so easy to let your guard down around them. you trust that they won't let you die.  

"i thought you were weak," satoru pipes up after a few minutes of silence. "you didn't seem like you were confident in your abilities, and that's a sign of weakness." 

after spending so much time with satoru and suguru, the word weak has permeated almost every one of your conversations. later you learned how much more significant it was for them to label someone as strong. you chase after the word—crave it.

"and turns out that wasn't true." suguru adds with a smile, his head leaning back against the trunk of the tree. his eyes are still closed serenely and you wonder if he can feel the way you're gazing at him. 

"yeah and now you act like some big hotshot," satoru grumbles, as though he doesn't want to admit to his old mistake, but you can hear his smile. it annoys you, the way his once degrading little nickname has now somewhat turned into a term of endearment. you would rather die than admit that you like hearing him say it. 

"well, I'm glad that i was able to prove you both wrong."

the conversation ends there. 

shoko returns a few minutes later, tossing you a can of soda and suguru a pack of cigarettes. as soon as she sits down in her spot under the tree you're forcing your head into her lap and kicking your feet onto satoru's legs. you ignore his complaints, because you know that in just a little bit he'll quiet down and his hand will rest over your ankle, fingers soft but firm. they'll occasionally drum some rhythmic tune, or draw nonsensical patterns against your skin.

shoko's fingers thread through your hair, just like they always do, and you know that in a few minutes you'll doze off in her lap, just like you always do. it's clockwork, this thing that you have with them. they make the days keep going—time doesn't stop for you. 

a part of you wishes you could freeze time at that moment. 

but you can't. 

iii. halcyon

"hey suguru?"

"hm?"

"how come you always do your hair the same way?"

suguru glances up from his book. he's seated at your desk, and for a minute, the breeze pushes your curtains so that they block your view of him. satoru groans lightly from your left, turning on his side to snuggle deeper into your pillow, and slumber overtakes him once more. him and shoko remain quiet, faces free of worry as they dream in a land that is so unlike the real world you live in.

"what do you mean?" suguru asks in response to your question. he has an amused smile on his face as he places his book on your desk, though his thumb and pointer finger keep his page.

"well…" you suddenly feel stupid for asking, but he's looking at you so intently now. "you have such nice hair. you could style it in so many different ways."

"are you saying you don't like my hair the way it is?" he frowns.

"no no!" you scramble, shaking your head emphatically. quite the opposite actually you think he's so so attractive—how on earth did you screw this up so badly? "that's not it i just—"

he laughs, tilting his head fondly. "i'm just messing with you, hotshot."

you blanch, before crossing your arms with a huff. "asshole…"

he chuckles, before lifting a calloused hand up to finger the tie that holds his hair in a bun. he glances back at you, before a michevious smile settles on his face. he gives the tie one sharp tug, and the bun falls away. black hair drops, resting on his shoulders, and you stare at him—oddly parched. wind brushes through the open window, tickling your curtains, tickling his now open hair. you had seen his hair down before, of course. in the few seconds after a sparring session when the bun had gotten loose, or when too many strands escaped the tie and fell in front of his face (he always pushed them away with an agitated huff). but now he looks different—good, you realize. he looks good.

"how should i style it then, hotshot?"

his question shakes you out of your daze. you hum in contemplation. "i don't know."

he laughs quietly, as to not wake the other two. "didn't you just say there were so many ways to style it? enlighten me then," he teases, reaching over to grab a small scrap of paper from your desk. he slots it where his fingers are holding place, and then closes the book. he swivels in the chair to face you completely, rolling over so that he's right in front of you.

"well…" you start, biting your lip in thought. "a ponytail maybe?"

suguru bunches his hair into his fist, holding it up against his head. "and? how do i look?"

you grin, eyeing the new style with a stifled laugh. "fantastic."

he laughs again, louder this time, before dropping his hand.

"it looked good though!" you laugh and he rolls his eyes fondly.

"yeah yeah," he dismisses with a wave of his hand. he looks back at you, eyes tracing over your hair before he grins wide.

"i like yours."

you blink. "mine?"

"the way you did your hair today," he points to the half up-half down style you've thrown together. a dark blue ribbon holds the hair in place—satoru had said it matched nicely with your uniform. suguru's eyes gleam as he appraises it. "it's nice. it looks really pretty on you."

something in your chest feels like it fell off a cliff.

"oh—" you stumble, before smiling at him because that's all you can do when he makes you feel like this. "thanks suguru."

"do mine like that," he says quickly.

once again, you blink owlishly and all you can manage is a stupid "huh?"

"do my hair like that," he repeats, getting up from the chair to sit at your feet, back towards you. he crosses his legs and puts his hands in his lap, patiently waiting.

"you can't do it yourself?" you tease, scooting closer to the edge of the bed.

"i can," he replies and you can hear the easy smile in his voice. "but i want you to do it for me."

"okay then!" you laugh before gently parting sections of his hair out. and then you work in silence, putting more effort into his hair than you've ever done with your own.

iv. fragility

"lady riko does not have any relations. when she was young, her family was involved in an accident…since then, i've been her caretaker. so please let her at least spend time with her fr—" 

"—so that makes you her family then." 

suguru's words seem to stun kuroi, the weight of riko's situation finally making itself clear as her face crumbles. 

"…yes." 

you listen to the way her voice wobbles, and try to suppress the poisonous lump forming in your throat. 

"then we do everything we can to make her happy," you say solemnly, leaving no room for argument. suguru seems to agree and says nothing—some deeper part of you feels something more than thankful towards him. 

"you're awfully sensitive for a jujustu sorcerer, you know that?" satoru comments offhandedly. you turn to look at him, meeting his piercing gaze over dark rims. 

"maybe," you concur. "is that considered weak?" 

satoru seems to ponder his answer, before shrugging, a light smile on his face. "to some people, maybe." 

you manage to smile back, and he takes in the expression with an odd look on his face. "say what you want, satoru. but you agree with me, don't you?" 

he looks away, eyes gazing out to the distance where you know riko is currently in class with her friends, trying to live the life she wants, and something in them softens considerably. 

"we'll do things the way she wants us to." 

it's one sentence, said without a smile or laugh, but hearing it fall from satoru's lips makes you beam at him. 

that's just your kindness, isn't it, satoru?

your heart leaps when you notice the tips of his ears tinge with rouge. 

v. longing

riko's hand is warm against the coolness of your fingers. your body feels hyperaware of your surroundings, toes deep in hot sand and salty air sticking to your skin. for some odd reason, you can't seem to relax. unconsciously, you tighten your grip around the young girl's palm. she glances up at you, but when you look down at her, she's wearing the biggest smile you've ever seen. 

satoru's presence makes itself known behind you—his shadow looms over yours in the sand. "it'll be fine," he says.

you can't see his face, nor can you see suguru who stands at his side, but your shoulders drop slightly, and you find yourself smiling back at riko. 

"i'm getting in the water!" she squeals eagerly, before dragging a helpless kuroi with her. satoru laughs—a clear, pristine sound—and follows after her. you watch the three of them with a fond smile, something akin to content settling deep within you.  

"and what are you planning on doing?" suguru asks. you turn to look at him, watching the way his heavy eyes stay focused on you. 

"hmm," you quirk a brow mischievously. "build sandcastles with me?" 

suguru blinks owlishly before he breaks out into a good-natured laugh. 

"deal." he walks closer to the water's edge, where the sand is damper, and crouches down. he turns to look at you over his shoulder. "don't make me do all the work, hotshot." 

you stand there, taking him in—really taking him in. he's just as clear as the sky behind him, and the sun shining on his face makes his smile glow. you want him to continue smiling at you like that well into the future. the waves crash onto the shore, as though the ocean is chasing his radiance, and an overwhelming feeling of unfiltered affection swells in your chest. 

your feet carry you forward, and you think that they might always lead you back to him. 

the sun rises as time passes, and occasionally you spare a glance at satoru and riko, who are screaming as they splash water at one another. and then you catch a glimpse of kuroi, who stands with her feet in the water, a soft smile on her face. 

and in that moment, nothing can be ruined. 

"what's wrong?" suguru's voice calls out, and you tear your gaze away from the others to look back at him. he stands behind you with two strawberry ice cream cones in his hands. 

"nothing," you hum, a serene smile on your face. "everything's perfect."

his eyes trace your face, stopping to linger on your smile, and they soften. "it is, isn't it?" 

he turns to the ocean, watching satoru and riko, and his eyes sparkle. "i hope it stays like this always." 

"me too." 

he bends down to take his place at your side before he hands you a cone. you take it from him. suguru's eyes drift away from you to look down at his castle. 

"i think it looks great," he expresses, before taking a lick of his ice cream. 

you roll your eyes with a huff. "yeah, because you made it look so nice. you're unnecessarily good at this, suguru." 

he laughs, waving his hand dismissively. "no no, we did it together! and yours is nice too!" 

"maybe," you grin, looking at his castle. "but yours is extra pretty." 

he smiles back, before pointing at a small hole in his sand tower. "see this room? it's yours." 

"mine?" you chuckle.

"yeah, all yours," he hums softly. "this is my castle and you get your own room." 

"oh? and why's that?" 

suguru's gaze lingers on you, and his dark eyes soften considerably. "because you'll always have a place in my home." 

you stare at him, speechless—something hammers away at the inner crevices of your chest. 

"and this one—" he points to another hole a few inches away from the first. "—is my room." 

"well in that case, that room is mine too!" you declare.

"what?" he barks out a laugh. "how does that work?" 

"well…" you grin at him, the sun burning into your cheeks. "because my home is wherever you are!" 

suguru's cheeky smile fades and his eyes widen. he looks at you, mouth agape, and you're about to say something else before sticky coolness trickles down your wrist. 

"ack!" you hurry to wipe away the strawberry ice cream dripping down your skin and you completely miss the red that creeps up his neck and seeps into his ears. 

vi. ice bath

shoko's fingers are unbelievably soft. you're grateful that you were unconscious through most of her procedures on your battered body—you don't think you would've handled the pain too well. she's quiet as she works over the large wound that now covers almost half of your torso. the man with the scar on his lip had done quite the number on you, and you don't think you'll ever forget the searing ache of his blade slicing through your flesh. he had left you in a bloodied pile, isolated, and you hadn't seen what had happened to suguru after the man shot riko. you could only lay there, vision swimming as a bitter taste filled your mouth—a reminder of the life you failed to protect.

the pain had been the only thing you could focus on, until satoru was on his knees at your side and tightly gripping your shoulders. your hazy focus was drawn to his lips as he spewed curses and insults at you. 

"why didn't you run away, you little shit," he had shouted, a feral look in his eyes. there was something different about him—a change in his very being that you could see even in the throes of death. "shoko's coming, do you hear me? for fuck's sake, keep your eyes open, hotshot!" 

you swore you saw his eyes shine behind that look of uncontrolled anger. he had been talking a mile a minute and your focus had waned until you could only see his lips move, no sound reaching your ears.

you've never thought satoru looked more godly than he did at that moment.

suguru eventually found his way into your field of vision—knelt at satoru's side. his large hand had squeezed your limp fingers in a death grip. he was sweating, and his eyes were darting back and forth between your pale face and bloodied torso, something akin to guilt swimming in them. you wished that you had the strength in you to squeeze his hand in return. the last thing you remember seeing is his dark hair falling in front of his face as he turned to shout at whoever was approaching.

now you're awake. disoriented and bleary, but awake, and all you can look at is the way shoko's bangs fall over her furrowed brows. she's taken care of the bleeding, and now all that's left is a dull throbbing, reminding you of how close you had toed the line with death. you don't know this yet, but the scar will remain for the rest of your life, and that dull throbbing will be a permanent reminder of your narrow escape. 

shoko hasn't said a word since she noticed your eyelids flutter open. you want to ask her so many things. important things that cannot wait: 

where's satoru? how about suguru? i saw them both. satoru's alive, right? and suguru, too? the man—with the scar. where did he go? he said that satoru—riko….where is riko? and—and kuroi…i—i..couldn't save riko. when did you get here, shoko? and why am i the only one who's being taken care of by you? 

you want to ask her. but she's making a very odd expression as her hands ghost over your body. you've never seen it before, this odd quirking of her lips. her teeth sink into the bottom one, and she chews and bites and nibbles like it's some kind of nervous tell. 

"shoko?" 

it's all you can manage to say—all you dare. your voice is dry, shaky, and sounds almost foreign to your ears. you're going to ask more, at least one of those thousand questions you had asked in your head earlier, but you don't get to because she speaks before you. 

"shut up," she spits, and the wobble in her voice has you pinching your lips shut and feeling closer to death than you did before. 

vii. acid rain

the sound of clapping is deafening. you don't think you've ever heard a sound so horrid in your life before, and you feel as though your ears are bleeding heavily. you can faintly make out the conversation between satoru and suguru, your ears struggling to pick out the tones of their voices. 

"no…" you hear suguru say quietly. "it doesn't matter if I'm fine…"

you can feel satoru's eyes roam over your motionless body, watching the way you gaze out into the crowd impassively. 

"let's get out of here, guys."

your feet carry you numbly, and you aren't aware of anything except the way riko's arm is swinging in front of you lifelessly. there are no mirrors around—no way of catching the track of tears cutting over your cheeks. the places where the salt touches burn like acid. you say nothing. 

satoru's gaze feels intrusive. he doesn't need to ask you anything—he just knows. it's like your body is radiating the emotions tumbling around in your gut. 

you're awfully sensitive for a jujutsu sorcerer, you know that?

"do you want to…kill them all?" 

the question stuns you, and for the first time, you can shake yourself out of your daze to look at satoru directly. blood is smeared over the left side of his face, cerulean eyes dimmed, as though something had pulled the shine out of them. red seeps into the fine hairs of his restless eyebrows. 

"right now, i probably wouldn't even feel anything," he continues, staring at you listlessly.

you think satoru might be feeling just as numb as you are. you don't know what happened to him yet. the last you had heard, gojo satoru had been killed by the man with the scar. he had boasted about it to you before he attempted to kill you too. but then satoru was at your side again, completely alive as he ran your battered body to shoko like a crazed man. 

you'll find out later who the man with the scar on his lip was, and what kind of legacy he had left behind. but for right now, all you see is a teenager with the weight of the world on his shoulders, and you know your answer.

satoru could help the pain go away; he'd be able to make the clapping stop—maybe then your ears wouldn't bleed anymore. but you couldn't ask that of him. 

"forget it. it's pointless," suguru mutters, and you're glad he's on the same page as you. not because any of these people deserve pity, but because satoru deserves a break—one less burden for him to carry. 

you hear suguru say more, but you can't focus. you continue to listen to the sound of the clapping, and once again lose yourself as you stare at riko's bloodied fingertips. 

"pointless, huh?" satoru mumbles in response to suguru's answer. "does there need to be a reason?" 

"of course. it's important," suguru's voice doesn't carry the same pleasant tone it always does. instead, it sounds strained, and tired beyond belief. unsure. "especially as jujutsu sorcerers." 

satoru doesn't respond, but you know that he's measuring the weight of his friend's words. that's how it was with the two of them. they both balance each other out—their moral compasses influenced by one another. but then you feel satoru look up from riko's body and turn to you. suguru follows suit, and before you can wonder why, it hits you: satoru had asked you both. 

you suck a deep breath in, feeling unusually breathless. the flesh of your stomach tingles with a painful reminder of what might've been, and you make up your mind. 

"killing them won't change anything," you say, breaking your silence. the tears on your cheeks have dried, but they leave a rigid trail in their wake—a trail that still stings. "let's just leave it at that." 

viii. fever dreams

satoru lies next to you. 

a few nights have passed since riko's death, and you've chosen to stay holed up in your room. you're not sure why—death has always played a big role in your life. you don't understand why it's different this time. 

tonight is different as well. while you've maintained a distance from everyone since that day, save for classes and passing by people on school grounds, today you've decided to let someone in. satoru's the lucky one, mostly because he would've pestered you until you opened your door for him anyway. 

it's strange though. he had knocked over and over, and when you finally opened up with a snappy jab at his annoying personality, he had brushed straight past you and laid across your bed. he hadn't said a word since then, and you've found yourself lying next to him in silence for quite a while. 

his hand stretches out in the darkness and you can feel his fingertips brush over the skin of your arm. it's delicate, like he's testing his limits, but you understand. it's just to ground himself—to know that you're still here, with him. to be sure that you're still alive.

you think the scar that goes down your body bothers him a lot more than it bothers you. 

"'m here," you mumble sleepily. your fingers reach up to bump against his knuckles, and you hear him inhale deeply. his voice is throaty when he replies. 

"i know." 

ix. doubt

satoru learns that you've never been kissed before and he teases you for it.

not in a mean way, but in a way that has your cheeks heating and your eyes avoiding his. suddenly it feels like the gap between ages 16 and 17 is huge. he's barely even a year older than you and you're in the same year, but it feels as though he knows so much more about the world than you do. you want to ask suguru if it's bad that you've never had a kiss, but you don't. suguru rarely talks these days. sometimes he'll have conversations with you but won't look in your eyes when he speaks. 

"hey listen, hotshot. if you don't get a kiss by…" satoru hums, an eager smile on his face as he swings an arm around your shoulders and contemplates his words. "…let's say 27, then i'll give one to you!" 

there's an odd note of glee in his voice. 

"shut up, toru," you groan, heat flooding your cheeks. "quit joking around." 

he laughs loudly, pulling your cheek teasingly. "aw, i'm just playing. it's not a bad thing i promise!" 

your shoulders relax slightly as the snowy-haired sorcerer continues to speak. 

"i just thought that you would've kissed someone by now," he shrugs. "wasn't there that one guy you went on a few dates with? the one you met when we went to yokohama?" 

there's an almost sour expression on his face as he speaks, but you're too frustrated to care. "just because i went on a couple of dates with him doesn't mean i kissed him!"

a broad teasing smile appears on satoru's face. "is that so?" 

"ugh, i'm only 16!" you hiss, shoving him away from you. "besides i'm saving it for someone special!"

"good," you hear suguru speak up, and you turn to look at him. his fingers are interlocked, elbows resting on his knees, and he's staring down at his hands like they hold the answers to some deep questions he has. "it is something irreplaceable after all." 

x. shadow

satoru's grin is proud as he stands before the three of you, his loose shirt billowing in the summer breeze.

you stare at him, heart thumping as shoko lets out a confused gasp. "huh? what the hell was that?"

"did it automatically choose the target for your technique?" suguru asks.

"yep!" satoru stresses the word, spinning the pencil suguru had thrown as he explains. "though i am the target. i've pretty much automated what i used to have to do manually."

your head is spinning.

"now i can tell an object's danger levels based the strength of its cursed energy, its speed, mass, velocity, shape—whatever. i want to be able to discern poisons too but that's pretty hard right now." satoru's voice is even when he explains, though you can make out the hints of pride that permeate his tones. you think his voice has gotten a little deeper too. "basically this is gonna allow me to keep my limitless technique active all the time!"

"that's gonna fry your brain!" shoko interjects, shaking her hair out of her eyes.

"yeah but i can do it while i continuously generate energy on my own. that way my brain stays fresh."

you can't help but let out an amused scoff. "what brain?"

satoru chucks the eraser at you, and you laugh as it bounces off your shoulder harmlessly.

"i've been working on shortening my hand signals so i can activate red and blue simultaneously." he continues, lips twitching upward as he gives you an exaggerated glare. "after this the only things i need to work on are domain expansion and long-distance teleportation. which i should be able to do if we set up some training courses here at school."

you think if someone examined you closely, they would see the stars in your eyes when you look at satoru.

"shoko~" he calls out, grinning eagerly. "think you could get me some lab rats?"

shoko groans as satoru bounds over to pester her more emphatically. you watch him, thinking you've never seen a person quite so magnificent.

god personified into a 17-year-old body. and yet it is a body that stays so close to you—well within your reach. maybe there's nothing so godly about that at all.

"don't you get tired of getting stronger and stronger, jeez?" you complain, crossing your arms as you raise a brow at him. satoru wets his lips as he throws you a smug smile.

"don't worry hotshot, you'll catch up to me someday!" he gives you an exaggerated wink over the frames of his glasses, and you shake your head somewhat fondly.

"no way! i never want to be at your level," you huff. "i'm very comfortable living in your shadow, thank you very much!"

a strange look passes over his face, almost puzzled, but the dip in his brows melts away as he approaches you. "well—" he slings an arm over your shoulder. "if my shadow makes you happy then you're more than welcome to stay there."

you don't have time to reply. pale lashes flutter at you—a backdrop of cerulean. you think white and blue may be the prettiest combination of colors in the world.

"suguru?" satoru's voice is casual, yet the amusement has dropped from it. his arm is heavy around your shoulders. "have you lost weight? are you okay?"

you look up, seeing tired eyes behind dark stands of hair. suguru's cheekbones are prominent, and you have the sudden urge to reach out and trace your fingers over them.

his lips twitch upward weakly. "it's just the summer heat…"

his lavender eyes drift to your face as he says it, and he tilts his head as he scrutinizes your worried expression. "…i'll be fine."

xi. hellfire

you hear suguru before you see him.

his breaths come loud as he pushes the door to the morgue open, the metal clanging heavily. his eyes bore into your back, taking in your clenched fists and raised shoulders that seem to tremble.

you wonder who told suguru you'd be here. maybe nanami, who was here not long ago, and had sent you a text that merely said: the mission went badly.

or maybe it was satoru, who had been chatting with you near the entrance of campus when he saw the myriad of emotions pass over your face as you read the text. he had probably called suguru as soon as you left.

it doesn't matter—you can't bring yourself to care.

you can only think about the way haibara had smiled at you before he left that morning.

now that smile is covered by a dirty white sheet, and you can't tear your eyes away from it. the taste of blood and vomit is heavy on your tongue.

suguru says your name quietly. you can't even look at him—you're scared that you'll cry if you do.

you don't ever want to cry in front of him. or satoru—so weak in front of those who are so strong.

"he asked if i wanted to go with them and i said no because i was lazy," you hiss, teeth clenched as you spit out the words with venom. "if i had just stopped thinking about myself for a second—"

your fingers dig into the flesh of your palms—deep, deep, deeper.

you hear suguru click his tongue, and his hands wrap around yours. he yanks your fingers apart fiercely, thumbs smoothing over the bloodied indents you've made in your own skin. you tear your eyes away from the body to finally look at him.

"don't—" his breath catches as his thumbs still over your flesh, eyes going hard as he takes in the blood.

he blurs in and out of focus. his head whips up when he hears you sniffle, and his lips slant ruefully. "you—"

"i'm fine," you interrupt, blinking pointedly and taking a deep breath. "it's fine—i mean it's not fine—but i c—"

"stop." suguru grabs your shoulders, giving you an even stare. you don't know how you didn't notice it before, but he looks thinner, older. there are dark circles under his eyes—poison seeping into his skin. "you need to rest."

you stare back at him silently, but you don't feel like you agree. something about this is making you feel restless, like there is so much you need to make up for. his grip tightens, before he's wordlessly leading you to take a seat—he finds his place next to you.

"satoru took over the mission." he stares at the lifeless body on the table as he speaks. you lower your gaze.

"and nanami?" your throat feels like it's closing. suguru inhales deeply.

"he went back to the dorms."

"okay."

you try to figure out if there is any meaning in having this conversation. despite everything, weren't you expected to wake up tomorrow morning and head out on a mission once more? and when you return, you're sure that there'll be another faceless body taking haibara's place.

the cycle continues—clockwork. it scares you, just how replaceable you are.

haibara, nanami, you, another, nameless—interchangeable.

not like satoru. not like suguru. not like the strong.

you lean your head against suguru's shoulder, fingering the hem of your uniform skirt. the fabric is cool to the touch—it seems darker, heavier. heat radiates from the body next to you, and there's something about him that's making your stomach churn with nerves. "suguru?"

his voice sounds far away. "hm?"

"are you okay?"

he stiffens and you suddenly fear you've said too much—nosy, intruding, out of place. you stumble. "it's just, we haven't talked much lately."

"i'm fine," he answers, and you can hear a smile in his voice—whether it's real or fake you can't tell. "just a little tired."

you know there is truth to this. but it scares you, how this tiredness of his has lingered for months. you don't know how to tell him that.

"okay…" your voice is barely a whisper, heavy with unspoken words that you don't know how to formulate. somehow you find that silence has always been your only option.

but like usual, silence with suguru has never once been uncomfortable.

haibara's smile burns behind your eyelids.

"it should be a relatively simple mission. if you're not doing anything today senpai, would you like to come with us?"

his voice tickles your ears.

"that's alright! i'll get going then! oh right, today's mission is a little farther than usual, so we'll probably be back late! what would you like me to bring back for you?" 

hypoxia crushes your lungs, your blood burns. selfish selfish selfish. you've only ever cared about yourself.

suguru's arm curls around your shoulder before you even realize you're crying. his palm is warm as it smooths over your hair, and all you can worry about tainting him with your ridiculous tears.

you don't ever want to burden him—just want to quietly live in his shadow.

"i don't—" you internally cringe at the throaty rasp of your voice, swiping a hand at your nose. "i shouldn't be so sensitive about—"

"it's not your fault." he quietly hushes you, grip tightening imperceptibly. through your tears you can see him adam's apple bob, and for some reason that makes you feel worse. you're too scared to look at his expression, even though his voice is resolute. "none of this is our fault."

something has changed in the way he speaks now. something has settled, a confirmation of some idea that has been brewing for a long time now.

you don't say another word, but somehow he manages to sear himself into your very being. he's warm, and fuzzy, and he smells like sandalwood and incense. 

you don't know how long suguru let's you pathetically sob into his shoulder.

but you think you're embarrassed that he has taken pity on a wounded animal's cries.

xii. split

he looks different, but also the same. you've seen him wear that sweater before. it's plain black, no patterns, and you know that there's a loose string on the inside of the left sleeve that he was always too lazy to cut. you've always liked that sweater—always liked the way he looked in it. 

you liked it so much that you've even stolen it a few times yourself. 

but now it looks different. older and dirtier—as though soiled by some unknown curse. 

that's what everything came down to, right? curses. 

suguru stands in front of you, almost no trace of emotion on his handsome face, and his expression makes you want to turn and run. you miss the calm serenity that normally graced his features, wishing that you had some kind of cursed technique that could turn back time. but you aren't blessed like that—you wonder what sin you might've committed in a past life that made you so unlucky in this one. 

"you look confused," he comments. you reel at how casually he speaks to you, like it's just another afternoon sitting under that stupid tree. like he's leaning his head back against the trunk and watching you and satoru bicker with that fond look in his eye. 

"suguru," you speak, an odd strain in your voice. you struggle to comprehend this odd turn of events. you've had time to understand that he's now a different person than the one you once knew. you know that he's responsible for killing 112 innocents, including his own parents. you know that he's now an enemy to jujutsu society and you know that you should kill him right at this moment.

but he looks so much like suguru, like your suguru, that you can only manage to stand there, frozen in place. his eyes drift over your body, taking in your pajamas, the bath towel in your hands, and the small drops that trickle from your hair, and you can see the familiarity settle in his expression. 

"why are you here?" you choke out. you feel an overwhelming sense of danger in your gut, knowing that your family is just a few rooms over from where he stands now. 

"at your family home, you mean?" he asks casually. a small, almost amused smirk appears on his face. "you said i was always welcome." 

you did say that. sometime last year or the year before, when you had invited satoru, suguru, and shoko over to visit during one of your quick holidays. suguru had sat across from you at your dinner table. he complimented the food and your father smiled one of his rare smiles. you had chewed quietly to hide your grin.

you don't know what to say to him now. 

"everything they said about you," you whisper, taking a step toward him. he remains rooted in place, but his eyes follow your movements. they shift when he catches your fingers gripping your towel tighter. "is it true?" 

"do you think it is?" he asks, and you gulp. it feels like he's baiting you into some kind of trap. 

"i don't want to believe that it is," you answer, voice shaking. "that you would ever do something so…"

the sentence hangs in the air, and he tilts his head imperceptibly. something in his eyes changes as he focuses on the drops falling over your shoulders. 

"well i'm sorry to squash your hope," he raises his arms in a shrug. "but everything you heard is completely true." 

your head aches, but you're not surprised by his confirmation. "why would you…?"

suguru hums, a dark look falling over his face. "do you remember the conversation we had after haibara's funeral? do you remember what i told you when he died?" 

anger flares in your gut at the mention of haibara, and the bath towel crumples in your hold. "don't say his name," you hiss through gritted teeth. "don't act like he's the reason—just…don't bring him into this. please." 

suguru licks his lips, eyes going soft before he tries again. 

"everything used to make sense back then," he sighs. "back when the strong existed to protect the weak. but it's not true." 

"suguru—" 

"the reason why we suffer is because of them," he interjects evenly, though frustration is clearly evident in the curve of his brows and the volume of his voice. "we clean up their messes. they create problems and we die for it." 

you're stunned into silence, at the way he's raising his voice at you, at the way he's speaking so firmly about this horrible topic, at everything. he seems to realize the effect of his speech, and he quells his anger to speak quieter. "that's why i'm doing this. i'm going to create a world without non-sorcerers, so that sorcerers like you and i can live peacefully." 

a lump forms in your throat because god, he's right. he's so right. your life would be a thousand times better without curses. non-sorcerers were the reason curses existed. but the way he's going about this…

"suguru," your voice shakes, but you press on. "i get it. i really do—" 

"i know you do," he interrupts. "you always have. even back then…" 

he takes a step closer to you, reaching out to finger the towel in your hands. "but you don't agree with the way i'm doing it, right?" 

you bite your lip, and he smiles at the sadness in your expression. "you're so easy to read, hotshot." 

you ignore the way the nickname stings. "i just—how could you kill innocent people like that? your own parents, suguru."

he looks away from you, steely resolve in his eyes. "if i made exceptions for my parents, that would kinda make me a hypocrite, wouldn't it?"  

you don't know what to say to that. he doesn't seem to have anything else to add either. 

he looks around your old bedroom, eyes sparkling as they catch a picture of the four of you from your first year. satoru's arm is slung around shoko. the dark-haired female has her elbow resting on your shoulder, her tongue sticking out playfully. you're clinging to suguru's arm, and satoru's free hand is squishing your cheeks together. the four of you are laughing. 

nobody has laughed in a while now. 

you tear your gaze away from the picture frame to look at him. he's so unbelievably close, and he's gazing down at you with this foreign look in his eyes, the picture forgotten behind him. 

he slips his fingers into your hair. his palm is large enough that it can brush the side of your face, and you wonder why your body doesn't flinch away from those bloodstained hands.

"it's okay," he mumbles, a faraway look in his eyes. they remain trained on your hair, but it feels like he's looking straight through you. like you're nothing more than a ghost he wants to erase. he's so close—you can count his dark lashes as they brush against his cheeks. "it's difficult. i don't expect you to understand." 

his words incite a sudden flare of anger in your gut. it burns something fierce, and in that moment you hate him. 

"no, i don't," you reply indignantly. he pauses, now really looking at you, and his brows quirk upward in what seems to be surprise, because—well, he's never seen you make such an expression at him before. "you never tried to help me understand. you just left." 

a strained silence follows. his fingers twitch against your cheek.

"this doesn't concern you," he says finally. "i don't need you to understand my actions." 

you recoil, as though he's physically hurt you, and your expression falls so hard that it almost makes him regret saying it. almost. 

"if it doesn't concern me, then why are you here?" you ask again, and you see suguru's shoulders drop. "you know that i have orders to kill you. i might not be able to because you've always been stronger than me. but you know that i'll…" 

go down fighting you, is what you want to say, but the words leave a nasty taste in your mouth. but suguru seems to know what you're implying because a wry smile appears on his lips. his fingers twirl a strand of your wet hair. 

"i'm here to say goodbye," he says finally. another tense silence fills the space between you both, and suguru can see the way your fingers shake between the folds of your towel. 

"you're a little bit late for that, aren't you?" you choke out, a strange tilt to your voice as you break eye contact with him. "you left school weeks ago, and you didn't say a word to me then." 

"better late than never, right?" 

the softness in his tone makes you turn to look at him again, and you desperately want to ingrain the features of his face into your head. the gentle slope of his eyes and sweetness of his smile. he almost looks like the suguru you once knew, and you suddenly have the urge to mourn his death. 

his face becomes blurry, the edges becoming less pronounced, and you can see the way his expression falls. 

"i didn't come all the way here to make you cry." his hand drops from your face and he takes a step back. your fingers hurry to wipe at your waterline, and you shake your head. 

"'m not crying." 

suguru smiles ruefully, and his eyes suddenly look devoid of life. he takes another step back—your heart plummets.

he says your name once, quietly, and it hangs in the air as you wait for him to say more. 

he doesn't. 

"you know that I'm not supposed to let you leave alive, right?" you mumble, fingers toying with the towel in your hand. "but i can't—i mean—"

"hm," he chuckles. "still as sensitive as ever, huh? s'okay…" 

he moves toward you again and his hand gently cups the back of your neck. "i think it's your best quality. makes you better than most people in our world."

he presses his lips to your forehead tenderly, and you feel your eyes widen behind your tears. 

you probably could've stopped him, because you're aware that he's now suddenly behind you, and that he's raising his hand. you can stop him, but a part of you thinks that if it's death at suguru's hands, maybe it's not such a bad way to go. 

you accept your fate then and there. 

you'll find out later that suguru never had the intention to kill you then. perhaps he was waiting for a more opportune time, waiting for there to be a meaning behind it. you're not sure. but when you wake up tucked in your bed cozily, you'll feel the remnants of him lingering around you.

he was warm, and fuzzy, and he smelled like sandalwood and incense.

xiii. sanctify

satoru's at your door again. 

you've memorized his knock patterns. he always knocks three times, then leaves a pause, then twice more. for someone so erratic, he can be quite predictable. 

"what's up, satoru?" you call out, not looking up from your busy hands. there are a couple of empty cardboard boxes open on your bed, and you've been placing things into them all morning. things that should've been put away a long time ago. you pause on one of your old test papers, and in suguru's dark, blocky handwriting you read: 

YOU GOTTA STUDY MORE DUMBASS.

underneath it, satoru had scrawled: 

hotshot failing class now huh? :P

and shoko had added: 

both of you stfu you're failing too 

you had drawn a heart next to her name. 

"whatcha doin'?" a familiar voice chirps. "spring cleaning?"

satoru stands directly behind you, peering over your shoulder. you can practically feel his aura shift when he notices the items you're putting away. 

"cleaning of some sort," you sigh, before turning to look over your shoulder. "i've been…putting it off." 

he doesn't move—just continues to stare down at the paper in your hands. you think maybe you shouldn't have let him in. sometimes you forget that satoru might have his own sensitivities—you've always viewed him as the strongest.

a few strands of his hair tickle your cheek, and you scrunch your nose in response. he then turns to you, eyes blinding as he studies you over the frames of his shades. 

"want help?" 

"please." you don't intend to sound so needy, but the way you whisper the word has him immediately grabbing your wrist and sitting you down next to him on the bed. 

"how are we sorting this stuff?" he asks, his voice oddly calm. he hasn't let go of your arm yet, and some quiet part of you is grateful. 

"i was putting our old school stuff in that box. books, papers…" you answer softly, and satoru nods in understanding. "and in the other box…" 

you inhale deeply through your nose. satoru waits, strangely patient. you're not sure if you're imagining it, but you think he squeezes your wrist. 

"…are all of suguru's things." 

there's a moment of silence—a quick mourning for what is no longer there. 

"it's stupid stuff that he left behind, you know?" you chuckle, even though nothing is funny. "some old shirts from when you two would sleep over, his old textbooks, a few pictures from our holidays—shit like that." 

satoru hums. he's not looking at you—instead he's staring at the box, a frown on his face. 

"i guess he didn't really need those things for where he was going. or for wherever he is now," you mumble. 

"guess not." 

you're not sure what's going through his head. satoru's reaction to suguru leaving had been chaotic at best. it was so hard to tell how he felt about it. you knew he was angry, confused, betrayed. but he never showed things like that. you think it might have to do with being the strongest. you're not sure though—you never were strong like him.

you wish there was a way to tell him that he could share his feelings with you, but you can't think of a way that won't be awkward. 

a ticklish sensation crawls up your wrist and you look down to watch satoru's first two fingers tap against the inside of your palm. his thumb brushes against yours as he lets out a heavy exhale. 

"let's get started then, hotshot." 

he looks down at you as he says the words, and you think you might cry. but you want to be strong, like him, so you offer him a smile. he gives you one in return. you realize there isn't that much warmth in it, not like it used to have—you're sure that yours isn't that warm either. 

but it's enough for the two of you. 

"you look tired, toru," you chuckle wryly, reaching up to brush a few strands of hair from his face. his eyes flutter at the touch, and you honestly think this might be the most vulnerable you've ever seen him. 

"so do you." 

"i am," you admit honestly. 

"'s okay," he mumbles. his fingers tap against your palm once more. "'m here." 

"i know," you answer. you always are.

nothing more is said as satoru stands up. he makes his way over to your desk and pulls one of suguru's old sweaters from your chair. you watch him fold it neatly, smoothing out the creases with care, before placing it into the box—you smile once more. 

you think the scent of sandalwood tickles your nose, but it's gone in an instant.  

both of you work in relative silence, sorting through the things in your room quickly. you're surprised at how bare it looks as you're nearing the end, as though there's nothing more to your life than old high school recollections. 

you finish putting the last few polaroids into the box when satoru speaks up. 

"hey." 

you look up and find him staring at you, so you turn to face him completely, giving him your full attention. 

"zenin toji—" the name sends a painful tingle up your body. "—left something behind." 

you frown. "what are you talking about?" 

"a kid. he's got a kid. and i was gonna go meet him today," satoru shrugs. you try to read his emotions, but as usual, he's giving you nothing. "the old man said something about the zenin clan buying up his kid before i killed him. i was gonna go see if there's something i could do about that." 

you sigh before raising a brow, an amused lilt to your voice. "and why have you kept this a secret?" 

satoru's trademark smirk appears, and he walks over to sling an arm around your shoulders. "who knows?" he quips nonchalantly. "guess i was waiting until we were bored. we need something to do now, don't we?" 

you glance at the packed boxes on your bed, and then look around your empty room. everything is always changing, but satoru is constant. 

"i guess so," you grin. his eyes shine, and for a second you see a familiar teenager at the beach, and then a familiar teenager under an old tree. you think you hear waves, and the crinkling of a bag of chips. 

"good," he chirps, walking you to the door, the arm around your shoulder secure. "his name's megumi, and we're gonna make sure he gets strong."

xiv. idyll

it takes you a little over four months to get used to megumi's eyes. they aren't unsettling or invading, like a certain snowy haired sorcerer, but they do give you chills when you first notice them. chills and a fleeting feeling of metal slicing up and down through your flesh. you just have to steady your breathing and remind yourself that the son is not the father.

tsumiki is an angel. you didn't think that kids that age could be so emotionally competent, but she's a pleasant surprise. she had been awfully protective over megumi, fidgeting with a firm hand on his shoulder as you and satoru invaded their space and upturned their lives. even after they had settled into the humble apartment satoru had purchased, tsumiki was still so overly cautious. it was obvious she still didn't trust either of you, but you thought it was admirable of her, and you relay this thought to satoru one day.

"think they hate us?" he asks, squishing his cheeks between his lithe fingers as he eyes the different milk cartons over the rims of his glasses.

"i'm pretty sure they just don't trust us that much," you reply, placing a few packs of instant ramen into the cart. "can you blame them? we're just random strangers who came up and basically kidnapped them."

"i'd like to say adopted!" he points out with a grin, before he sighs. "but we've already proved we're just doing this to help them. but they still barely talk at all."

"they're just being careful. megumi's still a little young and he looks like he doesn't give a shit about most stuff anyway," you chuckle as you remember the expression on the first grader's face as he spoke to your cocky friend. "and tsumiki's being cautious for both of them."

"she doesn't need to be cautious of us!" satoru dramatically whines, pulling out a carton of whole milk and placing it into the cart. you shiver as the cold air hits your skin, eyeing the sorcerer with an exasperated smile. he shuts the door with a huff. "i've been such a good dad!"

you roll your eyes, shoving his arm as he starts pushing the cart down the aisle. "she definitely should be cautious of you, you creep."

satoru looks down over his shoulder, appalled, though his eyes sparkle with mirth. "and why do you say that?"

"have you seen yourself? crazy 19 year old man that kidnaps kids," you mutter somewhat sarcastically, falling into step with him like it's normal. satoru grins at that—amused.

"i think it's pretty cool of her to be that responsible though," you continue, voice going softer as you think about them, and satoru hums in what you think might be agreement. you suddenly grab his arm, stopping him in his tracks and he turns to look at you.

"you think we should get another carton of milk?" you question, tilting your head at him. "megumi's been drinking it every day after he comes back from school and tsumiki said she wanted to try making milkshakes."

satoru blinks at you, eyes widening before an amused chuckle escapes his lips. you're about to ask what is so funny but he gestures back down the aisle. "go get some."

he waits for you as you go grab another carton, leaning against the cart easily. when you make it back and place the extra milk in the cart, satoru slings an arm around your shoulders. you raise a brow, but he just continues to push the cart with his free hand and says nothing.

so you don't say anything either.

the two of you continue shopping, trying to remember the things you've noticed the kids enjoying because you know they'll be too uncomfortable to outrightly request them. for every sweet snack satoru puts into the cart, you add something that can pass as somewhat healthy, and he hides a teasing grin behind his fist each time.

when you're almost done, satoru motions to the shelves of snacks, raising a brow at you. "what do you need, hotshot?"

you look up from where you're analyzing the contents of the cart. "hm? oh i don't wanna buy anything for myself. i'm good with the stuff i have back at the dorm."

"great," he shrugs with a subtle shake of his head. "except you're not buying anything this time, i am. so pick something."

"what?" you frown, walking over to him. "we're supposed to split groceries for the kids."

"we can split next time." satoru rolls his eyes at you, as though annoyed by your insistence. "i just got paid yesterday and i wanna waste money. pick something."

you groan. "but there really isn't anything i want. if you're gonna pay yourself then let's just go. i think this is good enough."

satoru looks unamused, his eyes boring into yours—bright, dominating, mesmerizing. "oh really? nothing you want?"

you stare at him in confusion as he walks over to the frozen section and opens the door. after a few seconds of rummaging, he pulls out a box. "not even this?"

your shoulders drop. he's holding a tub of strawberry ice cream.

he casually places it into the cart, eyes trained on your expression as he bends down. "it's your favorite, isn't it?"

your voice comes out throaty, and you wet your lips nervously—his eyes follow the movement at lightning speed. "how'd you know?"

satoru scoffs out a haughty chuckle, reaching up to knock a knuckle at your forehead—it's cold. "i know everything about you, hotshot."

he moves to grip at the cart's handle, standing close enough that you can feel the energy radiating off of him. the side of his hand touches yours, still cold. "now we can go."

he sticks by your side, pushing the cart towards the counters as he casually looks around the store. you briefly realize that his shadow doesn't cover you when you're at his side like this. the thought both scares you and pleases you in a way you didn't think was possible.

"thanks toru," you mumble before you can stop yourself. his gives you a sidelong glance—assessing.

his lips twitch. "it's just ice cream."

"no, it's a lot more than that." you're not really sure why you say it so tragically, and satoru inhales sharply. you notice that his knuckles have turned white as he grips the cart's handles. once again, his eyes dart rapidly over your face—between your eyes and then further down.

then he lets out a hushed laugh, nudging your shoulder with his. "as long as you share with me, hotshot."

everything is always changing, but satoru is constant.

you can't help but smile. "always."

you two don't say much as you head to the counter, taking turns placing all the items on the belt. you quietly watch satoru dig into his wallet, feeling oddly content doing so. you think the stars in your eyes will never disappear.

the clerk eyes you both, and suppresses a fond grin. with your close proximity, shared cart, and satoru's easy going smile, you realize that she's probably misunderstanding, but you don't really know how to correct her. satoru says nothing—he just continues smiling, oddly pleased.

he smiles all the way to the car. you catch yourself doing the same in the rear view mirror.

xv. retribution

the first thing you notice when you kneel in front of suguru is that he's bleeding all over the place. you have the strongest urge to scramble and grip his fingers tightly, just as he had done for you so many years ago—but you don't dare. you're too scared that touching him will ruin you completely.

he says your name quietly, and yet it's the loudest thing in the universe to you—crashing over your ears until you've lost all sense of self.

and then he leans forward, his gaze heavy, and his hand comes up to tangle in your hair. his palm rests on the side of your face just like it did when he visited you at your family home. the last time you saw your geto suguru.

except this time he moves further—crosses a line. presses his lips to yours.

he tastes like blood. you don't pull away.

the feeling of his lips shocks you though, and you stay permanently frozen in place as you feel your eyes glaze over with something you can't put into words.

suguru kisses you slowly, deeply, like he's been waiting but wants to savor it. maybe you've been waiting too. you're not sure. you're so confused.

you don't even process the way his tongue slips past your lips, tasting almost eagerly like your mouth is some kind of conquest he's trying to claim.

it's intrusive, but not unwelcome. slow, but not gentle.

you whimper quietly, feeling acid sting down your cheek as he pulls away and his eyes flutter open. he takes in your expression, and a million emotions pass over his face.

a quiet chuckle. "that bad, huh?"

you shake yourself out of it and try to push away the flush creeping up your neck. "w-what?"

"you're crying," he announces, his furrowed eyebrows paired with a sweet smile that makes him look so unbelievably tragic. "the kiss was that bad?"

your face burns, and you raise a shaking hand up to your cheek—it's wet.

"it wasn't—i didn't—" you struggle. "i mean—"

he smiles ruefully. "i'm sorry. you were saving it for someone special, right?"

there's a charged silence that follows as you scour your brain for the conversation he's referencing. when you find it, your heart sinks.

"you've always been special to me, suguru." your voice comes out quiet, but he hears it all the same. his eyes widen fractionally and you can see a light pink dust his cheeks before he laughs. it's soft, hushed, and looks like it's painful, but he lets it run its course.

it reminds you of a laugh from so long ago, at a beach, with childish screams echoing against the sound of waves. you think you can feel strawberry ice cream dripping down your wrist.

his laughs die down and he's left smiling softly at you. his lavender eyes sparkle with mirth as he tilts his head. "i'm glad. that you were the one i gave a room to."

you can hear waves in your ears, crashing crashing drowning. sand is in your hands, in between your toes, in your eyes.

he coughs, and his palm shakes against your cheek. you wonder why he doesn't just let go already dammit suguru.

you inhale sharply, trying so hard to breathe because what is that stupid thing that's clogging your throat and preventing you from speaking? there's so much you have to say to him. so many questions. so many things left unsaid. your words are failing you.

but silence with suguru has never once been uncomfortable, right?

you raise a shaky hand to press against his where it lays against your neck. "do you regret it?"

he licks his lips, smiling faintly, as though he's enjoying the new taste of you on them. "no."

"why not?" you whisper. your body unconsciously shuffles closer to him, chasing his warmth because gods is he warm. he's always been so warm, even now, in the throes of death.

"my feelings are still the same. i still hate the monkeys for everything they've done, all the crap they cause." he shuts his eyes, smiling that serene smile. you wish he was leaning against a tree trunk. "i still have no resentment to those at jujutsu tech. and you, i still…"

he doesn't continue. you don't think you want him to. there's a flush crawling up his neck, the faint pink a stark contrast to the red of blood. it makes you nauseous.

another deep inhale, and his thumb slides over your jawbone, before brushing under your bottom lip. he stares at the flesh heavily, letting his finger press into it. his tongue swipes over his own lips, eyes darkening further.

and then something shifts in his face, and he smiles mirthlessly. his hand drops from your face—broken contact.

he doesn't tear his gaze away from you, committing your face to memory. it's almost like he wants to say something, but decides against it at the last minute as he slumps further into the wall behind him and shuts his eyes.

when he speaks again, you know that it is all over.

"you're late, satoru."

[ssivinee]

✧Expert Level✧

Part 1 | Part 2

*Part 2 of "New Game, New Player," so I suggest you read Part 1 first!*

BEBE!Bada Lee x Dancer! F Reader: Jeon Y/n and Bada fall for each other, finding comfort in the latter. Bada never knew how to react around you but kept a strong facade. Yet that comes crumbling down as days go by and you slowly become each other's person.

Word count: 5.8k

Note: This took so long... my hands need a dam break from typing. ALSO VERY MUCH NOT PROOFREAD I GOT TOO EXCITED TO POST THIS.

Character Vision Board

You shouldn't have expected anything less from the leader of Bebe. The deal was to win 2 more battles for a date, which she did just that. She had two matches exactly, one against Redlic of Mannequeen and the other against Gooseul of DeepNDap.

On the other hand, you didn't have any further battles. Other crews were targeting the other members instead. It made you laugh at their face each time Lyn, Heaven, Enyo, and Aria showed out. They shouldn't have questioned the capabilities of your team in the first place. The team was winning more than you can count on one hand, and it made you proud.

When filming ended, Aesthete was all in their room, preparing to leave. As you go to the neighboring room, your duffel bag rests on your shoulders. The team full of youngsters heard a subtle knock on their door. Aware of who it is, Bada opens the door, revealing the other tall dancer.

"So you ready for that dinner?" You ask, leaning on the door frame. She hands you her phone, "Let's switch numbers, and you send me the details," you nod, complying with her wishes. "I'll see you later," you wave off, and she bows in response as your team follows behind you. She turned around, shutting the light blue door, and all her teammates began squealing.

"Wha~ It's really happening," Soweon swoons over the interaction. "Never thought I'd see the day THE Jeon Y/n is hitting on you, unnie," Lusher adds, and all her teammates nod. "The girl who everyone is in love with asked you on a date. I don't know if I should be happy or jealous of you?" Minah jokes at her leader.

"I wonder where she's gonna take you?" Kyma asks, and Bada feels their comments and questions coming at rapid fire. "How bout I go on the dinner first, then I'll let you guys know," she says teasingly, groans filling the room at her sarcasm.

"You're telling us you're not one bit excited for your date?" Cheche wonders, and Bada's face goes red in shame.

"I didn't say that," was all she could say before her crew jumped like little bunnies around her. "This is so exciting for you, unnie," Lusher tells her, and Bada leans her head back, trying to save herself from embarrassment by looking at the ceiling.

"Let's just go home," she grumbles, but their teasing doesn't stop.

"So you can get ready for your date?"

"Will you guys shut up!"

Bada was now at her apartment, readying herself for the next few hours. She had just gotten out of the shower, and her phone notified her about a message.

Y/n❣️ You good in an hour?

Bada was now alarmed, looking at the time. It was only 6 p.m., but she was agitated, knowing she was nowhere near ready.

Ocean🩵 I don't even know what to wear?????

Y/n❣️ Something fancy

Bada replies sure, connecting her address to the message, and scurries through her closet. Fancy? All Bada saw in her closet was her array of baggy clothing. That was until she was nearing the other side of her closet, catching the sight of a handful of dresses. She decided to wear a black velvet bodycon dress that hugged every curve of her body, then topped it with an off-white light cardigan and some sandals.

Time went by, and she heard the doorbell of her place ring. Bada rushes over to her door, fixing up her oreo hair that was now up in a ponytail before opening the door to see you.

Her eyes grow wide at the view of your apparel. Your hair was in a low bun, showing off the chains you wore. Your suit made you look like you had legs for days, and your boots added an inch to your height.

You made Bada breathless.

You reveal the flowers that hide behind your back, giving them to her with a broad smile as you look her up and down, enjoying the sight. Her usual style had gone out the window, and what stood before you was a feminine beauty who looked divine in the sleek dress.

"You look gorgeous, Bada." You tell her softly, and the latter is trying to take everything in all at once. Your perfume filled her nose, and she smiled at you, "I could say the same thing about you."

"Well, are you ready to go?" She only nods, clutching her bag as she takes your hand. Your eyebrow raises at the touch, but you grasp her hand tighter, loving the warmth it gives you. You take her to your car, open the passenger side, and she thanks you. Making your way to the driver's side, you make your way to a fancy restaurant, and Bada marvels at the building. "Isn't it expensive here?"

"The prices don't matter, Bada. I asked you to come with me. So don't worry about anything." You tell her as you help her exit the car. She wraps her arm around yours, taking in her surroundings. When the two of you enter, her grip becomes tighter, and you look at her. Unable to hold the smile you had, her eyes were roaming around like a lost child.

You go to the host and ask for a table for two. The duo was seated, and you immediately asked for some cider, something light since you still had to drive home. The two of you reading up on the menu and picking out some meals. "Are you sure about this Y/n? The prices are actually crazy."

You grab her hand from across the table, looking at her earnestly, "I told you not to worry about it, Bada." Her heart quickened at the tone of your voice, just nodding.

The two of you drank the alcoholic beverages and started to chat. "I guess I'm your top student now, huh?" Bada jokes, getting an airy chuckle out of you. "Well, you're gonna have to prove it." Her face goes puzzled. "And how would I do that?"

You lean your body forward and whisper, "You just have to be a good girl. You can do that for me, right?" Bada's face was now painted red, her body heating up at the choice of words. She obediently nods, and you let out another chuckle, amused by the reactions she gave you. The world knew her as the confident, tall dancer, but to you, she was a beautiful woman crumbling under your gaze.

"So~ Working as an in-house choreographer under SM?" You try and make conversation. As much as you liked teasing her, you genuinely wanted to get to know her. "Yeah," she says with a tight-lipped smile. "Can I ask how that happened?"

"Uhm, YoungJ oppa had been working with NCT, and he introduced me to Kai first. I guess he liked my dancing so much that he kept asking me to work on the pieces with him." You nod, knowing how Kai was when meeting him while hanging out with BTS Jimin at one point. "I noticed he really does hand-pick the dancers he wants."

"What about you and HYBE?" You sigh at her question, and her brows furrow at your reaction. "I got in due to Bang Si-hyuk's request."

She looks at you weirdly, "Then what's with the reaction?"

"Cause everyone thinks it's cause of Jungkook-oppa." You quickly say, and she nods in understanding. "I started working with TXT first, just so people wouldn't say anything. I even did my best to avoid any project with him, but I couldn't avoid doing RunBTS."

"Why is that?"

"Cause oppa and his members personally asked me," you tell her, but truthfully, they all bombarded your phone and visited your place until you'd accepted. "Do you enjoy it? Being under HYBE?"

"Of course I do. What I hate is all the words being thrown around with it. It's a blessing and a curse," you admit, head hanging low. You hated talking about it in a pessimistic way, but it was something that would be looming over your head for years to come. "Never mind that. How about we talk about that class we agreed on?" Bada grins at your words, "What do you have in mind?"

"A duo dance," you say instantly, and Bada's eyebrows rise. "To what song?" That's when you shrugged. "Whose your favorite artist? We can do a song from them," you suggest.

"It's Vedo," she answers simply, but you laugh, "I should've assumed."

"What does that even mean?"

"Do you know how many videos I've seen of you dancing to his music?" She goes shy, looking away at the question. Your food then arrives, and the two of you get to eat.

"What about this one?" Bada points at the tattoo on your collarbone. The two of you talked about all the ink on your body. You mainly explained that you just loved the look of it, but some did have meaning to it.

The tattoo she gestures to is a rose intertwined with the words, 'Your only limit is you.' You smiled just thinking of the words, "It's just my daily reminder," you joke. "In all seriousness, though, it just reminds me that I shouldn't stop getting what I want, no matter the cost."

You pause before looking dead in her eyes, "Like getting you."

Her mouth goes slightly ajar at your words. She wasn't sure if she loved or hated you for making her feel completely different. THE Bada Lee was having a hard time with someone for once, and she didn't know how to handle it.

The dinner continues to go smoothly, and you suggest going for a walk on the beach. To your dismay, Bada agrees, and you two are now taking a stroll. You lent her your coat, making sure she wouldn't freeze, and the soft sand buried your feet as the cold breeze of the ocean waves over the two of you.

Hand-in-hand, your arms swayed with each other while listening to the sounds of the crashing waves. "Bada, what do you see in your future?" You ask suddenly, and Bada thinks, unable to respond quickly. "I see a dance studio in my name, with Bebe still by my side and a loving partner who would do anything for me."

"That's a very leader-like answer," You smile at her, "How about you?"

"I don't know yet," you go deep into thought. "I just want to be happy. I guess I just like living in the now." You tell while rubbing the back of your neck. "I do want Aesthete to still be together. They brought me a new sense of life," Bada stared at you as you talked about your team in admiration. Bada saw a glimmer in your eye for the first time, maybe the longing of wanting something you could keep forever.

You chatted more about work, dance, family, and friends before realizing how late it was getting. So you drop her back home, walking her back to her apartment door. "I had a good time," she says faintly, and you kiss the back of her hand. Bada was entirely surprised by your gentlewomanly tendencies, "I'm glad, truly." She couldn't look you in the eye, looking at your hand instead. "About that class... wanna make it happen? With Bebe and Aesthete?" You ask. Bada looks at you, "You were being serious? I mean, I'd love to. It would be fun."

"I'll make it happen, Bada. I promise."

The next day, the class mission had just been announced, and it got everyone busy. Your teammates were around the building, finding a quiet place to start working.

You decided to offer to listen to 'Smoke' with Bada in the large dance studio the Street Woman Fighter building had. The two of you stood in the room, listening intently to the song's beats, rhythm, and lyrics. Most of the time, Bada observed you as your body moved quickly, instantly becoming familiar with the music. It was watching your true form at work, and she loved every moment of it.

Bada commended you in her head. Dance just came so quickly to you. It should be that way, but she couldn't fathom the amount of style you used in one go. You were like an oiled machine with much information stored in your brain. While doing that, you went in and out of the room, explaining to Bada that you were just helping and checking up on your girls.

As you repeat some of your moves, trying to find the perfect ones, Bada joins you. Unlike you, she just used the beat and lyrics instead. Occasionally, your brain starts picking up the movements she connected together. You watch as she starts from the beginning. She isolated her neck as she sauntered, mimicking the lyrics, "Light it up."

She flicks up her hand, imitating a working lighter, and you hype her up a little. Your cheers and sickening facial expressions gave her more confidence to use massive power. Despite being technical rivals, you weren't afraid to admit how cool her movements were. You take a break at some point, and she watches as she pieces the second half of the choreography. By the end, you were clapping for her with a proud smile as if she had just won an award. "Your brain works wonders, I tell you." You pat her butt, and she tackles you. Your arms go around her waist, making sure you find your balance. "You ready for this?"

"I think I am," she answers you with a smile, and the two of you head down to the fight zone, seeing all the leaders already there, and sit next to each other.

All you could say as people took turns, they were harsh.

It was soon Bada's turn, and you look at her. Bada tended to bite her lip when she got nervous, and you realized how much she did it throughout every dance a leader presented. While paying attention to everyone's words, your hand makes its way onto her lap, and you clasp your hands on hers as your thumb rubs the back of her hands, calming her down.

When it's Bada's turn, you give her a thumbs up as she stands there. She begins, and everyone finds her choreography the coolest and most doable.

"It looks the coolest. I want to do a dance that can prove our abilities as dancers."

"The groove of it is nice. I wouldn't mind using this piece."

"Isn't this harder to steal?" You look over to the owner of the voice, Mina Myoung. "If we try out for this dance, we have a higher chance of losing." Bada only nods at her words, understanding the thought she took into consideration. Yet, you didn't get it. You wanted so badly to defend Bada.

All of you were dancers and professionals at that. It was your job, and if you didn't have the confidence to do it, maybe it wasn't suitable for you. You held back your tongue, knowing it wasn't your place to talk.

It was then your turn to show out, and you got up to the walkway, showing the powerful yet sleek dance you had prepared. Everyone expresses how they liked the route you took and how cool it made you feel, but on the technicality side, it had aspects of popping and locking with some commercial sprinkled in there that looked difficult to pull off, which makes you nod in understanding.

"Doing this dance would be great. The lines are clean, and it looked empowering."

Kristen smiles at you, "Dude, you're insane. The stylistic choices, the rhythm your body used? I wanna learn it." Yet you hit the same wall Bada does.

"The technicality of it, though, it's not something many of us can't do."

"As cool as the dance is, this choreography is much more in your favor."

That's just when you had to say, "As leaders, we should all be able to dance something at a high level due to our years of experience. We come here not only to show our dance but our leadership to people." Your words simmer in many of their minds, knowing you weren't wrong.

The voting began, and it was a close call between yours, Bada's, and Akanens. The leaders decided to come back and group up later when there was more thought in their choices. When coming back, Bada's dance wins against yours 5 to 2. You were satisfied, though. In fact, you were joyed. You shake her shoulders, congratulating the girl, "You're just too good." And she hugs you in happiness, squeezing hard around your shoulders.

You tell your team, and you are pleased with the outcome. You just knew how trendy the choreography looked and how everyone would be dancing to it when the episode was released.

Now, the leaders were back in the Fight Zone, where Bada prepared to teach the choreography. You decide to stay beside Kristen and give her a fist bump. Bada begins, and as she teaches everyone, the Aesthete and Jam Republic leaders' voices can be heard.

"You really do move those hips like water, Kris," you tell her as you pat the shorters hips, and she giggles. "Says you."

"I mean you over here using so much space and extending your moves. You're making my muscles tense over here." You say, and she hits you jokingly. These interactions happened often throughout the session.

Bada's gaze kept looking at the two of you with much distaste. Your focus should've been on her and her only. This causes her mood to sour, and she targets you gradually during the rehearsal.

"Y/n, you didn't move your chest during the walk."

"No no, that's wrong, your angles are too small."

"Jeon Y/n, are you even paying attention."

You were taken aback by her quick flip in emotions. What the fuck is happening right now?

You couldn't understand what went wrong. Every move was correctly done, down to the facial expression and vibe. As you made friends with the other leaders, you realized it had worsened. Bada was scoffing and giving you death glares every moment she could.

During your break, Bada strays away to the Bebe hideout, and you follow her. You enter the room without warning, making Bada whip her head at the door's sudden opening.

"What is your problem right now, Bada?" You ask, a sound of hurt layered underneath. "I've been doing everything properly?" Your statement sounded more like a question. Throughout the hours, you began doubting if you did anything right but were honestly trying your hardest. So why were you getting shunned for it?

When Bada hears your pain, she beats herself up mentally. She couldn't help but be jealous when she had no right to. "I'm sorry," she huffs, and you sit beside her. "What is it, Bada? What have I done?" You ask with caution, and Bada can't meet your eyes.

"I don't like how close you are with Kristen." She mumbles, and your eyes widen. That was the issue? You chuckle at the girl, and she looks at you with large eyes, "It's not funny," she says, whining. You found it endearing, squishing her face.

She discreetly yearned for your attention the entire time.

Bada was bitter about the attention you gave others and couldn't comprehend why since it was her dance and she was teaching it. "You do know I'm only interested in you, right?" You state the obvious, but Bada's heart flutters. Your arm wraps around her shoulder, "Come on, it's time for the main dancer auditions."

You two head down, and everyone notices the two of you together, which causes every team to tease you two. Bada sat down with her team, hiding her face as she tucked her knees into her chest. You loved it, though. People would now aware of the situation between you two, and you believed it would reassure Bada.

"Dang unnie, it's only been two days, and you guys are that close?" Lyn teases. "They seemed more than close. Are you guys dating yet?" Heaven asks, and you just hushed them. "Auditions are starting, please focus."

That they did, but as time passed, none of your girls made it as main dancers. You were still proud since they had all made it to the second round of reauditions. They were the biggest competitors in each class.

It was time for the leaders, and Bada's group was up first. You stood behind them while marking your movements beside Kristen. After your chat with Bada, you made it your mission to dance all out, proving that you were paying attention and that she was your number one priority. Bada's group goes first, and no one saw anyone else but Bada on that stage. She was like a bright candle standing taller above the rest, unwilling to give out. During the hip roll, you bite your lip. God, is she so sexy. You then quickly erased your thoughts when it was your turn.

As you begin, you walk up, and everyone's attention is on you and Kristen. You let the music fully control your body, and Bada watches the two of you with hawk eyes. She wouldn't openly admit it, but she wanted to keep you and Kristen in check. She liked you but also wanted to carry the tradition of holding the main dancer. The way the two of you dance made her nervous. You two filled the stage and danced like no one else was around.

The judges have a hard time choosing, so they make you reaudition. "For the reaudition, we want Tsubakill's Akanen, Aesthete's Jeon Y/n, Jam Republic's Kristen, and Bebe's Bade Lee."

You and Akanen were up first, and you were holding your ground. You knew the advantages you had in this. The stature of your body was similar to Bada's, but you had more muscles, and you knew you could copy Bada's movements to the tea. Once you end, the two dancers switch with Bada and Akanen. You watched, pleased at the two and their difference in styles. Kristen made sure to use the entire stage and show her flexibility while doing certain moves, while Bada showed much more attitude than usual. It felt captivating yet exhilarating to watch, and you got excited

The four of you stood on the stage, and you smiled hearing Shonwu's words. "We have another reaudition. It's Bebe's Bada Lee and Aesthete's Jeon Y/n." You wink at Bada, who smirks at you, feeling the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

You were grinning ear to ear and stood beside each other on stage. Once the music begins, the two of you turn to serious mode. You guys danced similarly, and everyone realized how difficult the choice would be. It was identical, almost as if you mirrored each other’s movement. It looked like Bada took over your body while you took over hers.

When you finish, you see the looks of disdain on the judge's faces, making you chuckle quietly. They talked for 5 minutes, but it felt like an eternity until Monika announced Bada had won the position.

The taller brings you into a relieved hug. You mumble how amazing she is, so she kisses you on the cheek. You were amazed by Bada, not because she beat you, but because she carried such humbleness. She held you close, and you wonder if she was so scared of not meeting everyone's expectations.

But she knew she lived up to yours.

After 3 days of waiting, today was the day you all had to film for the video. You sat in the makeup chair, feeling the black mascara almost smeared on your face's temple area. You open your eyes, looking around at the other leaders. Their makeup was a mess, making you all look like you were all a part of the cult.

While Bada, on the other hand, looked like the queen you were all worshipping. Her lips looked fuller due to the applied lipstick, the gems on the bridge of her nose accentuated her sharp facial features, and you couldn’t even react how you wanted to, not wanting to mess up your makeup artist.

Your gaze was now fixed on your mirror, and you were stunned at the look. It looked tamer than the rest, the makeup artist even putting some gems around your eyes. You were confused but didn’t question it, being a little happy you had something special going on.

Bada's makeup was completed first, and she took some mirror photos to capture her beauty. You had sneakily gone beside her, comfortably putting your arms around her waist. She flinched, "what are you doing?" She asks.

You just mumble into her shoulder, "Just take a picture," your deep voice giving her chills. She was sure glad she had layers of makeup on her face, or else you could see the blush forming rapidly. You continue to take photos, some even with you being in front of Bada, due to your height, arms wrapped around your neck, while acting as if she was gonna give you a peck on the cheek, yet she couldn't, afraid of getting her lipstick on your face.

"Filming begins in 5!" Everyone was told, and you all made your way onto the set.

Everyone crowded around on set when the camera started rolling, and you all marked your positioning. Kang Daniel made an announcement as filming progressed, but none of the leaders paid any mind about it, just focusing on their jobs. The ending scene had you, Bada, and Kristen dancing together, and you circle around each other being part of Bada’s idea. She blows on her thumb, insinuating she blew out the lighter.

When monitoring the entire thing, your eyes only watched Bada. You whistled when seeing her face and called her hot so often that the dancer tried to cool herself down by thirsting on her ice-cold water.

The shoot was complete, and you were excited to remove the makeup. Bada sees your bare face and how precious you look without all the fixed production all over you. Your long hair was messy, and you wore a navy blue tracksuit. You had texted her while getting ready to go, offering her a ride home, which she openly accepted, and asked her to meet you at the parking lot.

During the ride back to Bada's place, you notice the lip-biting and calmly tell her, "You know I'm here for you, right? If you just wanna get something off your chest, I'm all ears." She admits she was scared in a shaky voice. Everyone had worked really well on set. Bonds and friendships were being made left and right. Bada couldn't help but worry over her choice of worst dancer. You had thought about it, too. It was about to come down to the tiniest things when making a choice, but you just laid your hand on Bada's thigh, rubbing it in comfort, "When the time comes, I know you'll make the right decision."

You pause a little and joke, “even if it’s me.” You say, lifting up her mood. The both of you knew well in yourselves that she wouldn’t pick you. Really, she couldn’t even if she wanted to. Bada gave you many ways to shine: the makeup, the outfit, and center position in the final scene. There was almost no way she could pick you without looking like the craziest person in the world.

You drop her off, and this time, as a goodbye, you kiss her cheek, "I'll pick you up on Friday? So we can go on set together?" and she just obliges with a nod, not trusting anything to come out of her mouth because of your kiss.

Friday comes, and you pick Bada up from her place. That was after you had stopped by a coffee shop getting you two some bitter iced Americanos as you learned it was Bada’s favorite.

"You didn't have to, Y/n," she says as you hand her the coffee, "But I wanted to." She smiles as she joyfully sips on the drink. You had your music on the radio, with Bada and you singing to each other as you let her dance crazily while trying to drive safely. The car was full of laughter before the nerve-racking day, and it kept Bada's mind off it for some time.

As you make it to the building, you grab her hand and walk hand in hand-into the building. People notice the sight of the two together, and the teasing again erupts as you're both talked about by other crews, even your own. When the two of you separate ways, you see your team of younger dancers grinning your way. "Please tell me the two of you are dating now," Aria says, giggling beside you in the hideout. "You seem more excited about us getting together than we are," You kid.

"Unnie, you have to ask her out? What if someone beats you to it?"

"You mean if someone beats Bada-unnie to it." Lyn and Enyo argue, and you just smirk. "I don't think either of that will happen," you say with pure confidence, and your team shrieks in anticipation.

Everyone gets ready to head to the main stage, but you pull her aside when you see Bada walking in front of you. She looks at you anxiously, and you take both hands into her grasp, trying to shake the nerves away. "You'll make the right choice. I know you will," you tell her as you caress her face and kiss her forehead, which causes you to have to fix her beanie a little. She nods while deep breathing, "You're right, you're right." She tells you but repeats, seemingly trying to reassure herself of what will happen.

You were the last ones to the fight zone, but rather than receiving the teases and comments, it was dead silent. The tension was getting to everybody. This was for the first mission, and it was for the sake of their teams. It was terrifying, to say the least.

The videos started with the rookie class, where Rena was the main dancer. While watching, everyone was energized, the rookies boosting the mood of the studio. You watched the youngest, Lyn, who looked like she had the most fun while dancing to the high-energy pop song. When the video ends, you smile at Lyn, patting her thigh.

"You did so well, Lynnie," you tell her, and she tightly wraps her arms around your neck, giving you a quick cuddle in the crook of your neck.

As you watched the other videos, you never expected anything less from your team. Everyone did their jobs and did it right. Enyo and Heaven could be seen in the sea of dancers, and that told you enough. The air shifts when Mannequeen's Yoonji and Waackxxxy pick Kyma and Cheche as the worst dancers. The younger girls were asked to speak, but almost nothing came out. So Kang Daniel reverts the attention to Bada, "Bada-nim, what can you say?"

She picks up the mic and finds the right words, "I'll just have to consider this when choosing whose worst dancer is in leader class." Your mind spiraled at Bada's relaxed manner as she nodded, adding salt to the wound. Mannequeen was already down by 100 points. They couldn't afford any more losses right now.

Aria was whispering about their problems with you. During the video, everyone enjoyed it. The Lusher and Latrice duo made you proud of both girls. Latrice's solo in the end and Aria's center moment made you glad.

But while talking about the sub-leaders, the mood was still uneasy. "It seemed like most of us got along, other than Latrice and Downy. But Redlic did seem like she had a lot of say behind the scenes about Kristen being there helping Latrice help direct the video." You nod, understanding the circumstances now. If Kristen was there for support and threw ideas around, you didn't see the big issue. You assumed the other sub-leaders were questioning Latrice's leadership the entire time. Jam Republic then discussed who to pick, and you hear several names thrown around until you hear one of the girls saying a word that began with an 'R.' So you knew even before announcing who it was.

"The person I pick as the worst dancer is Redlic," by all means, after what you heard, you weren't even shocked by her choice. If you felt disrespected, you'd do the exact same thing.

It was now the leader's turn, and your hand felt sweaty. You knew in your heart you did well, and there was almost little to no chance of being the worst dancer, but you worried for Bada, not knowing if she'd be able to take the reality of her choice.

Everyone watched, and the crews were in awe. The way it was filmed, the dance, the vibes, it was too good. In the ending scene with you, Kristen, and Bada, everyone cheered, giving you all a standing ovation. You bow while seated, showing your respects, but it is finally time to pick.

Bada chats with her team and you. You look at her, feeling your chest getting heavy. She turns around and brings the mic to her mouth, "The leader I pick as the worst dancer is... DeepNDap Mina Myoung."

Kang Daniel asks for some words from Mina, but as she cries, your eyes never leave Bada's, seeing the tears falling down her cheeks. Your heart ached at the sight as her members tried to calm her down quickly. Never in a million years did you want to see Bada cry out of sadness. All you wanted to do was run up and give her the warmest hug you could.

Bada's eyes meet yours, and they plead for you to be near her. You bite your lip with a nod, getting frustrated as the time felt like it was going too slow for your liking. Even when your team ranked second, your mind was tunnel visioned on the tall dancer, and when you heard "Cut" from the director, you ran over to Bada. She stands up and lets your body fall into hers.

You swayed her body, and she relaxed, leaving her chin on her shoulder. "There were no wrong choices. You picked what you felt was right." The hug lasted forever, but you took her to the Aesthete room when you pulled her apart. The sad girl stood there as you whipped her tears away with a soft tissue and smiled a little.

"What are you smiling at, huh?"

"How pretty you are," she simply states, and you laugh. You grab her face, pecking her with light kisses, and she giggles. The tickling feeling makes her swoon over you. You then wanted to ensure you sealed the deal, giving her soft kisses on the lips.

For some reason, this doesn't surprise Bada. She takes it with open arms, even reciprocating it. "I don't ever wanna see you cry like that again," you tell her sincerely, but she laughs. "With you? I doubt I ever will."

Taglist: @1luvkarina @only-minghaos @kpopgirl-97 @tikitsune

[ador3sturniolo]

Stargirl

An - omg I feel like I haven’t posted in a year what. Okay so earlier this week I went to a hockey game, and something happened while I was there and I wanted to write a fic about it. And I wanted to do Nate because I love Nate, and we need more Nate fics out there asap. And the song has nothing to do with the fic, it was the song I kept playing while writing this 😭

Paring - Nathan Doe X FemReader

Summary - You go to one of Nate’s hockey games

Warnings - Kissing, NOT PROOFREAD

Requested - Nope

ALSO YALL, I FIRST WROTE THIS IN THE BEGINNING OF OCTOBER SO THERE WILL BE HALLOWEEN THEMED THINGS HERE, SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO UPLOAD

I hadn’t realize how late I had slept in until I heard my alarm go off more than 30 times, most of which I had just sleep through. I check the time and see it’s a little past 3. Shit. I had so much to do and had it all planned out. I was to clean my house, get a gift for Nate, go grocery shopping, and decorate for fall. I’ll just eat some food while I’m out but right now, I need to clean up my place. I have u til 6:30 to get everything done on my list. Considering Nate’s game starts at 7.

I clean my house, lighting candles and turning on fairy lights I have setup around my house. I take a quick shower and put on my freshly clean clothes. I do a slick back bun, not trying to do anything fancy. I get into my car and make a quick stop at Starbucks to get a drink. I also did an online order for my favorite lunch place in town so it’s ready for pickup when I get there. I pickup my lunch and eat in my car as I drive to target. I put my Starbucks in the cup holder of my cart and push it too the food section.

I grab my list of food and start putting it in my cart. I decided to grab some cookie dough for me and Nate to back after his game. I go over to the floral section and grab a bag of white, blue, and purple pair and place it in my cart. I’m on my way towards check out when I spot the cutest pair of matching pj sets. There was a vampire, pumpkin, and ghost option. They were all so cute but I decided to get the ghost ones. I check out and go home to eat dinner and decorate.

I decided to make something, quick, easy, and delicious. I play my fall playlist as I grab my last year bin full of pumpkins, signs, pillows and blankets. It only takes me around 30 minutes considering I cleaned earlier. I looked at the time, with not much time left I had to get ready. I put the totes back and head to my room. I put on a pair of leggings and his hockey jersey that he gave me. I take out my hair and do two French braids. I take some face paint type makeup I have and write his number on my cheek.

I put on my shoes and grab his flowers and teddy I bought him earlier that week. I grab a blanket so I don’t get cold at the rink. I drive to the rink in only 10 minutes. I head inside and get a ticket. I’m greeted inside by the triplets. They all look over at me and walk my way.

“Finally, we’ve been waiting for like 5 hours” Nick says rolling his eyes

“Nick, we got here 5 minutes ago-“ Matt chimed in

“Oh hush.” Nick says, crossing his arms, clearly annoyed.

“I’m so excited to watch my boyfriend play!” Chris says clapping his hands. Nick, Matt and I slowly turn towards Chris, giving him a confused look.

“Fine, I can’t wait to watch her boyfriend play” Chris says sarcastically but rolling his eyes.

“That’s what I thought.” I say pushing Chris a little bit jokingly. We all walk to the rink, getting a rush of cold air as the door opens. I could feel goosebumps approaching my skin. I wrap the blanket around my shoulders and sit down with the triplets. We sat and waited for the game to start. It only took a couple scrolls on insta before the players came walking out of the locker room and onto the ice to warmups. It wasn’t hard for me to find him, considering I had his number imprinted into my brain. Before I the warmups ended, I went to the snack bar and got myself a water and chips for me and the triplets. I head back just in time for the game to start. We all stand up and start to cheer, like the rest of the crowd. I only had my eye on one player the whole time. Every time he scored a point and I would jump up and down and scream for him. The three looked at me like I was insane but I didn’t care.

The game was over and Nate’s team won! We all wait for Nate outside of the locker room to finish up, but before he comes out I need to use the restroom. I come back not too long and see the brothers talking to a man I wanted to hug the first I saw him on the ice. He noticed me and started walking towards me. I ran up to him and gave him a hug.

“You did great tonight, I’m so proud of you.” I say giving him a peck on the lips.

“And these are for you.” I handed him the flowers and teddy bear, he then looked up at me with a smile that would make my heart melt.

“Thank you so much baby.” He said as he went to the side of me and wrapped his arm around my waist. He turned back and waved to the brothers as he started to walk with me out of the building. I help him load his things into my car, and we get inside the car after.

“So I had a really fun night planned out for us, but if you don’t want to do it, that’s okay and we can do something else.”

“It’s whatever makes you happy my love” I couldn’t help but blush at his words.

“So, my house is all decorated and I had candles going so it smells really good in there, and the house is clean so a bonus! And I was thinking we could make cookies and watch a movie together? And there’s also a surprise with that.” I say almost out of my seat from how happy I was.

“If that’s what you wanna do.” He says smiling back at me.

“Of course it’s what I want to do, but I wanted to know if u wanted to do it.” I say turning on my car, pulling out of the parking lot.

“I’m okay with anything you want to do.” He says looking out the window. I smile as I continue to drive back to my place. I pull into my driveway and get out of my car.

“Let’s take showers first tho.” I say unlocking my front door. He nods as I unlock the door and walk in. We take off our shoes at the front and walk to my room where my shower is.

“I’ll go first, I’ll be quick.” I say as I start to take out my hair. I hop in the shower and wash my face, get out, and wrap myself in a towel. I walk out into my room and too my closet, telling him it’s his turn on my way. He gets off the small couch I have in my room and head into the bathroom. I quickly get dressed into the pajamas I just bought for us. I sit down at my vanity and start doing my night skincare. I hear the shower turn off and with Nate walking out with the towel around his waist. He points at the pair of clothes on my bed.

“What’s this?”

“It’s yours, to wear! Tonight! To match with me!” I say turning around, show I’m in the matching set. He gives me a sigh but walks with it into the bathroom to get changed. I do a little clap of achievement, as I turn back around to finish my skincare. I hear the bathroom door open and see him walk out, giving me a sigh and looking down in disappointment.

“Hey! You look amazing! Don’t give me that I hate this energy, it’s supposed to be fun!” I say putting all my things away and getting up.

“I feel so weird in this.” He says throwing his hands like a baby

“Why? You look so cute!” I say walking towards him.

“Can I just take the shirt off? It feels tight.” He says scratching his neck

“Not yet! I wanna take a picture” I say grabbing my phone out. His arm wraps around my waist as I put the mode to 0.5x and turn on the flash. We smoosh our heads together doing a kissy face as I take the picture. I look at the picture to make sure it was okay then I put my phone down.

“Okay, let go make some cookies” I say kissing his cheek and walking out of my room. He follows close behind me. I grab a pack a Pillsbury cookies from the fridge and preheat the oven.

“How about you put on 6, and I put on 6” I say grabbing a tray from my cabinet.

“Good with me” He says giving me a smile

“Can I take my shirt off now?” He says whining

“Fine, Stop acting like a baby” I say as I start to put on my cookies.

We both finish putting on our cookies and put them in the oven. I walk over to my couch and turn on the tv.

“What would you like to watch?” I say looking up at him.

“I don’t know, you pick.” He says sitting down next to me

“Mhm, Corpse Bride? The Nightmare Before Christmas?” I say leaning back and laying my head on his chest

“Corpse Bride, The Nightmare Before Christmas is a Christmas movie.”

“No it’s not!” I say as I scoff

“It is tho!”

I shake my head and get up to go take the cookies out. I put them on a plate and organize them in a cute way. I bring the plate to the couch along with a blanket.

“Hold the plate while I put the blanket on us.” I say handing him the plate. I sit down, covering our legs and a little bit of my waist. He sets the plate down on the blanket.

“Do you like tonight?” I say putting my head on him again.

“Of course” He says kissing my head. I smile in happiness that I was able to make tonight special.

“I love you” I say lifting my head up.

“I love you more” He says giving me a peck on my lips

—————————————————————

An - OML I AM SO SORRY ML FOR NOT POSTING FOR A MONTH. I KNOW THIS ONE IS BAD BUT I FELT LIKE I NEEDED TO POST SOMETHING OR I CANT FUNCTION RIGHT SO HERE IS THIS 🫶🏼

[kvrokasaa]

karasu comforting overachiever!reader with a lot of anxiety?

my exams are around, ive cried 6x and had a mental breakdown in 3 days. and im a good student at heart but not on paper. im trying😭

take care! love❤️

I can relate to this sm, I promise myself that I’ll study but then it gets late n all I wanna do is sleep lmfao. But I hope you’re doing alright, love. Remember to drink lots of water and eat lots of food! And take breaks when studying so you don’t get headaches!

Sorry I posted this so late, but here it is.

Cw: crying, fluff, comfort, friends to lovers, cursing, not proofread. lmk if i missed any!

Wc: 1.1k

Overachiever!

Karasu is like your best friend, he’s always been there for you and promises he always will. Even when he left for a program called Blue Lock, he still managed to talk to you. Especially when you were going through a nasty breakup with your ex. He has always been there for you.

Something Karasu noticed over the years of being your friend; you’re an overachiever and a perfectionist. You have to get good grades, it’s like it was hard-wired in your brain since you were a child. If you didn’t get a good grade, even on a test that was optional or didn’t have any impact on your overall grade, you would feel so ashamed and full of anxiety. You were afraid of your teachers hating you, honestly, you’re just afraid of authority figures. You would always try to hide your feelings behind a fake smile, and sometimes it worked. But this time it didn’t.

You were in your room studying, all day long. No matter how many times people tried to pester you, or ask you to take a break, you would decline and go back to studying. You needed to get a good grade. You had stayed up all night long studying and going over the crucial information that would be on the final.

So why? Why do you have an 84% on your final? Why isn’t it at 100? Other people congratulated you, saying that the test was really hard. But you know that Mia, the top student, got the perfect score without even trying.

You tried this year, you really did. You made a resolution that you would try your hardest this year; that you wouldn’t give up so easily like last year. And you know that bad habits die hard, but you were doing so well. Even though this isn’t your last year, you feel like you failed at school.

‘Take a deep breath. Failure is the one pathway to success.’ Karasu’s words came floating into your mind. But you could still feel the onslaught of the tears and the tightness of the pain in your chest. You tried to take a deep breath but it wasn’t enough, it felt like all the oxygen in the world just vanished.

You don’t know how you got home, all the memories of the people saying ‘Good job’ and ‘Don’t beat yourself up, you did better than me’ are the only ones you can remember. All you want to do is crawl into your bed and cuddle your stuffed bear while you cry. But you have to study more; you have to study for your next classes. You can’t just give up because of one class. Oh but how badly you want to.

A sudden knock on your door pulled you from your thoughts. “Come in.” You cringed at the crack in your voice, quickly you straightened your posture and pretended to be okay.

But all of that faux hope and happiness faded away when you saw the unmistakable blue eyes. The tears came rushing back, along with the shaky breaths.

Karasu walked over to your desk and smiled down at you. “Hey, just wanted to stop by,” his hand raised, revealing a bag with your favorite restaurant name. “I brought your favorite.” His voice died down, almost to a whisper when he saw your tears.

You quickly wiped them, but the red streaks were still there. He sighed and sat down on your bed. “It’s okay, Y/n. Stuff like this happens, don’t worry about it too much.” You shook your head. “No, I should worry about it,” he raised a brow. “Why?”

You felt a little agitated because he couldn’t understand. Of course he couldn’t, he’s always been the type of person to get good grades without even trying. Knowing him, he probably slept through most of his classes and still got a 95 or higher on his final. Typical Karasu.

“Because who would I be if I don’t have good grades? I know that grades don’t matter much in the world, but I’m the one who feels the shame. I’m the one who has to remember what it feels like to try your hardest and still fail.” You felt like pulling your hair out, breaking things, just something to ease your mind. To ease the pain.

He brings his hands up to your cheeks, squishing them a little which brings a smile to his face. “Remember what I always tell you. ‘Failure is a pathway to-’ ” “To success. I know that, but still,” You move your head, making him release his grip. “I don’t want to fail, I don’t want people to remember me as the person who always failed.” Your voice was almost higher than a whisper, but he still heard you loud and clear. Karasu could hear and feel the pain from your voice.

“You-” you release a shaky breath, trying to calm yourself down. “You wouldn’t understand.”

‘Ironic’ he thinks, you’re the one who’s not understanding. A simple grade doesn’t define who you are as a person.

“Y/n look at me.” He grabs your face, “You are doing your best, you’re trying your fucking hardest and I’m so proud of you for that. You’re way smarter than what people give you credit for.” You try to shake your head, but his grip on your jaw tightens. “No. I don’t want to hear you deny anything. You need to understand that it’s okay to fail, it’s okay to feel helpless after a bad grade. But it’s not okay to beat yourself up. Don’t worry too much about how this grade, which is a passing grade, will affect your future.”

Karasu pulls you in for a hug. You close your eyes and bury your face in his chest. “You’re in the present right now, not the future. And I’m sure the future you are a CEO; trust me I can see it.”

You both laugh at his words. You sniffle and look up at him, “thank you, I really needed that.” He nods his head; his eyes looking from your eyes to your lips. “Anytime, I mean it.”

This is what you expected, a lecture and comfort from Karasu. It’s what you wanted. But what you didn’t expect was his lips on yours. Before you could enjoy the moment, he pulled back and smiled down at you. “Safe to say that I think you return my feelings,” your eyes darting everywhere but his and your little nod was a good enough answer for him. “And as much as I want to kiss you again. Our food is getting cold.” He pulled you down onto the bed along with the bag of food. “Let’s eat.”

[charismatic-writer]

Because of my lack of motivation, but desire to share my writings, i will be posting some of my WIPs that i never got to finish, and will probably never finish.

Here is one of them.

TITLE: Her

FANDOM: Dream SMP

CHARACTERS: Ranboo, Mumza, Technoblade (mentioned), Philza (mentioned)

WARNINGS: Description of death/afterlife, in deoth description of panic attacks, Wilbur Soot is mentioned once, NOT PROOFREAD

WORD COUNT: 748

Ranboo Died. Ranboo was dead. They stood face to face with a Goddess. She called herself Kristin, the goddess of life and death. Ranboo was confused; they thought that when you die you were sent to some type of limbo. At least, that’s what Wilbur said when he came back from the dead. Limbo. Not whatever this place is. He was supposed to be in some type of hell. With fire! And demons? Is that what being in hell is like?

“Now what happened to you, love?” Kristin asks them, taking their hand and the two of them walk down a long narrow path.

“I'm not entirely sure... Last thing I remember, I was with Techno and Dream. We were leaving... the prison? I think it was the prison. It’s a bit fuzzy after that, but then I remember Sam holding me hostage... and I remember Techno-” Ranboo’s voice breaks, but they aren’t crying. “Techno was trying to get Sam to let me go- but- Sam killed me with his sword.”

Kristin stops and pulls Ranboo into her chest. “Oh my, I’m so sorry that happened to you dear. I promise that here, all that pain will go away.” But then she pauses. “Techno...? As in Technoblade?”

This gets a nod from Ranboo.

“Ah, Techno, he’s lovely, isn’t he?” Kristin smiles. “Now... we should probably find you a place to stay.”

“Ms. Death, I don’t want to stay here. I want to go back to Earth. I-I mean, I have a son, and a husband! I mean... I think I have a husband...? I need to go back and see my son! And I never helped Phil build the potato farm for Techno... I need to go back. I have to.”

Hearing her husband’s name catches Kristin off guard. “You know my Phil...?” Kristin asks the teen. “How do you know him?”

Ranboo looks confused. "You're 'Her'?" Ranboo asks. "I thought your name was Her, not Kristin.”

Kristin laughs softly. "No, Ranboo. My name is Kristin. I'll make sure to teach you about pronouns at some point."

“ Ms. Death. I really think I should go back to Earth. I need to see Phil and Techno again- I mean-He and Techno took me in after the war in L’Manburg. They let me stay with them in the Arctic, I even joined the Syndicate. I have so much with them back on Earth Ms. Death. I’m so scared; I just want to go home.” The teen’s face contorts as tears well in their eyes, trailing down their black and white cheeks

“Is that really what you want Ranboo?” Kristin asks with a sense of sincerity in her voice.

The teen nods. “I want to see them all again.”

“Okay, it’s settled then. I’ll take you back to Earth tomorrow morning. Until then, let’s get you settled.” Kristin led them back towards a humble cottage that sits in the center of a circle of trees, smoke flowing from the chimney, and a path of flowers leading to the front door. It was beautiful, and it fit perfectly with the gorgeous landscape of this place. Tall green trees, bright green grass and a big blue sky full of fluffy clouds.

“This is where you will stay for the night, and I’ll come get you in the afternoon to take you back home.” Kristin tells them, opening the door to the cottage.

“Thanks.” Ranboo states simply, walking into the foyer.

“Of course, love. I’ll let you get settled, and I’ll be back tomorrow.”

Ranboo lets out a sigh as Kristin closes the door to cottage leaving them alone in the large house. Reality hits Ranboo like a semi-truck. They were dead. And they were in some sort of.. Limbo? Or is this heaven. But either way they are dead. Sam killed them at the prison in front of Dream, and Techno. Michael is god knows where and probably in danger. It was so much to take in at once. Before they knew it, they were hyperventilating. Their breaths labored an uneven as he gasps for any amount of air he could get. He was dead- murdered in cold blood all because of Dream, and Sam, and the whole situation!

Their lungs ache as they continue to gasp desperately for oxygen. Their mouth was dry, and vision spotty. They felt like they were dying. Which- they were already dead so that couldn’t be possible, but it sure as hell felt like it.

[pennywaltzy]

For your 25th -- Pondlock, bright red, 11

I went back to an old Pondlock series for this fic, "A Past Love." The prompt for this one was "She needed to proofread her work," and the 30 Day Writing Challenge prompt was "18. Use the title of the last song you've listened to," which happened to be "Blank Space" by Taylor Swift. Enjoy!

Blank Space - Amy has insomnia before John and Molly's wedding and attempts to write, but finds she's blocked until Sherlock makes a suggestion.

READ @ AO3 | SERIES PAGE

Amy stared at the word document page open on her laptop. It was a blank space surrounded by the margins and the commands that the program used, because she was blocked. As a child she had made up stories about the Doctor and the adventures they would have had; now, as an adult, she had the urge to write something but nothing came. She couldn’t sleep after her trip with the Doctor, Sherlock, John and Molly, and she’d gone to her laptop to toy with some ideas she’d had based on her adventures with the Doctor and the stories she’d made up as a child.

But her mind was drawing a blank at the words.

She sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose and pushing her glasses up. It was easy to write travel stuff that went with her modeling. Writing her speech for John and Molly’s wedding had been a snap. Writing lyrics to some of the compositions Sherlock had shared with her of his? Piece of cake. But trying to actually write was like dipping a sieve into her brain and watching all the good ideas run right back in.

Two hands on her shoulders told her she wasn’t alone anymore and she looked up to see Sherlock looking down at her. “Insomnia?” he asked.

“A bit. I just...traveling with the Doctor again inspired me, but I can’t get the words out. I know I was writing in the past, but now I just...can’t.”

“Maybe I can help,” Sherlock said. “Bring your laptop to the sitting room.”

Amy raised an eyebrow but did as he said, following the man she loved now to see what he could do. She took a few minutes to really study him; that was one thing John didn’t do in his blog entries was to really describe the way he looked, the way he moved with a feline grace, the way he held himself.

“You’re thinking about me the way a writer would,” he said, breaking her out of her thoughts.

“I am,” she admitted with a soft smile. “Just thinking about how John never describes you in his blog posts. But I could do it.”

“Then do it,” he said, gesturing to her favorite seat in the sitting room. “I’ll go make us some coffee because I’m awake too. I’m too nervous that something will go wrong with the wedding to sleep.”

“We’ll be no good to John and Molly if we’re zombies.”

“We just need to stand by their sides and make it through the reception. After that, we can crash.” He waited for her to sit before he went into the kitchen. “Write about me, and then try and write how you would describe the Doctor.”

“Which incarnation?”

“Whichever one you feel inclined to,” he said, filling the coffee pot up with water. “You aren’t used to this new incarnation, so I’d imagine you’ll have an easier time with the earlier one.”

She nodded and he continued to make coffee as she typed out first a description of Sherlock and after three full paragraphs moved onto the Doctor. Just picturing the mop haired older version made it easier, and by the time Sherlock brought her a cup of coffee sweetened to her taste she’s already moved on from descriptions to an actual story. He read over her shoulder for a moment, not interrupting her, and then kissed the top of her head and moved to his seat, picking up an old case file and looking it over. As the sun rose, she realized she had an entire chapter of a story loosely based on her childhood done. She needed to proofread her work soon, but having that much written was an accomplishment. Her fingers were flying over the keyboard, the blurred bright red shapes of her painted nails clicking on each key...she hadn’t felt this inspired in a long time.

Maybe something good would come out of it...

[just-another-blog-of-fluff]

An Embarrassing Secret

Word count: 2150

I feel like some of these are sort of repetitive, but maybe that's because I've had to reread them to proofread so many times? In any case, you all seem to enjoy them! I hope you like this one as well.

* * *

“Ah! Y/N! Just the person I wanted to see!”

Loki flopped down on the couch beside you, jerking you from your thoughts as the couch cushion bounced under his weight. Your heart skipped a beat as you turned your gaze from the television to the Asgardian beside you, only inches of space between your leg and his.

“Me? What do you need from me? Trying to prank your brother again?” you snickered.

“Not this time, no. I just thought I should come find you and let you know about something interesting I learned this morning,” he replied, an impish lilt to his voice.

“Is this something I would find interesting? Or just you? Because the way you said that, I feel like I probably won’t find it nearly as interesting.”

“Oh, I believe you’ll find it very interesting,” he assured, a smirk tugging at his lips. Something about the way his gaze was fixated on you was unsettling. You paused the TV and turned your full attention to the god.

“What is it, then?” you questioned hesitantly.

“I learned quite an interesting secret about you earlier today.” There went your heart again, skipping another beat.

“You… did?”

“Oh, yes.” His smirk grew wider.

Your mind was racing. What on earth could he be talking about? Did he figure out you had a crush on him? What if that was the secret?? Was he disgusted by it? Did he reciprocate??

“That is interesting,” you noted, trying to keep your voice even to prevent him from seeing your anxiousness. “And… what was that, exactly?”

“Well…” he began, pulling out his cell phone from his pocket, “… this morning I happened to be perusing the library, trying to select a new novel to read. While I was wandering between shelves, I happened to notice something of yours sitting out unattended.”

You thought hard, trying to recall what it was you had been doing in the library. Had you even gone to the library this morning? You couldn’t even remember what you had for breakfast. Then again, it was difficult to concentrate with those blue-green eyes gleaming in front of you…

“And what was that Loki?”

“Your laptop.” Loki was now typing something into his phone, holding it in a way that you couldn’t see the screen.

“My laptop?” You rarely brought your laptop to the library with you, as you were typically reading books and had no need for electronics. You wracked your brain trying to remember when the last time you had even brought it with you to the library, looking away from the trickster so you could think straight.

Then you remembered. You’d brought it with you last night, hoping to get some peace and quiet away from the others, who were causing quite a ruckus in the common area playing one of Peter’s video games. You could still hear them through your bedroom door, so you packed up your laptop and brought it to the library with you to continue writing.

Writing. Oh. Oh no. No no no.

Your heart dropped into your stomach the moment you realized where this was going. Still, he hadn’t mentioned anything specific about what he’d seen yet, so you made every effort to keep a straight face. You weren’t about to give away a bigger secret if he had only learned something minorly embarrassing.

“At first, I was uncertain to whom the device belonged, and as it was already left open on the table, I decided to see if I could determine the owner so I could return it to them,” he continued, “and I found the screen to be unlocked when I turned the machine back on.”

Yep. You knew exactly where this was going now.

“You act like you were trying to do a good deed or something, but you were obviously just snooping around my stuff, weren’t you?” you muttered, trying to throw him off with your annoyance.

“Shh - I wasn’t finished with my recounting of the story yet,” he scolded facetiously. He had finally finished tapping buttons on his phone and was now scrolling through something on the screen. “When the screen unlocked, I saw quite a fascinating narrative typed out on the screen. Truly a masterpiece, really.”

“Y-you read it?” you squeaked, hiding your face in your hands.

“Oh, I did more than that darling. I also scrolled through and reviewed the rest of your little webpage.”

Your face was burning red hot against your palms now. If you could have just melted into the couch and disappeared, you wouldn’t have hesitated to do so. You felt your heart pounding in your chest with nervousness and embarrassment at the whole situation.

“Shall I read some aloud for you?” he asked.

“Nooooo Loki,” you moaned, your voice muffled by your hands. You lifted your feet up onto the couch, wrapping your arms around your knees and hiding your face behind them, trying to become as small as possible.

“Ah, here is a good part: ‘The dark-haired god suddenly tackled you to the floor, pinning your arms down at your sides under his knees as he dug his long, slender fingers into your sides.’” You pulled your knees even closer to your chest. If the floor could swallow you whole now, that would be fantastic. “Darling, you’re not paying attention.” A poke to your side caused you to jolt one arm down away from your face to protect the sensitive skin. You stole a quick glance at the god, your eyes wide.

“D-don’t!” you exclaimed.

“Isn’t this what you want?” he asked, prodding your side a few more times, causing you to jerk away each time he made contact with your thin T-shirt. “Let’s see… ah! Another great line: ‘He drilled his thumb into the front of your lowermost ribs, digging his fingers into the sides of your ribcage simultaneously. You supposed you should have known that someone with his mischievous title would be good at tickling, but the way his fingertips sought out every single one of your weak spots was causing you to slowly slip into madness.’”

You started getting up off the couch to try to make a quick exit then, hoping to hide in your room for the rest of eternity. Loki caught on before you got very far, though, and grabbed hold of your wrist to prevent you from leaving.

“Let go!” you begged, refusing to look at him as you pulled your arm hopelessly to try to escape his grasp. He tugged you closer, quickly wrapping both arms around you and tackling you to the floor. A thrill ran through your chest as you found yourself staring up at the god of mischief, your wrists pinned to the floor at your sides in his hands.

“Seem familiar?” he asked, smirking. He leaned off to the side, looking at his phone screen beside you on the floor. “Now, where were we? Ah, yes, I remember.” Loki’s fingers connected with your sides, scribbling and kneading in the best worst way. You shook your head rapidly, still too embarrassed by the whole situation to allow him to hear you laugh. “Your narrative appears to be inaccurate – according to this, you should have ‘giggles bubbling from your mouth’ but I hear nothing.”

“Loki! S-stop teasing!” you pleaded, covering your face with your hands once again now that your wrists were freed from his grasp.

“I’m simply pointing out there are some inconsistencies in your writing, y/n.” He moved his fingers to your belly, scratching maddeningly gently at the bare skin where your shirt had ridden up from squirming. You couldn’t hold back the giggles anymore, but you did manage to keep one hand pressed over your mouth to muffle your voice as you brought your other arm down to protect your torso.

A small part of you, buried deep underneath the raging embarrassment you still felt, was loving every second of this playful side of Loki. Clearly you had fantasized about this before, as evidenced by your writing. You just hadn’t anticipated he would actually find your fics, much less read them and use them against you.

“Let’s continue, shall we?” he goaded, interrupting your thoughts. He picked up his phone in one hand while continuing to dig into your belly with the other to keep you squirming while he thumbed through more of your posts. “Here’s another excellent excerpt: ‘he moved to flutter his fingers against the delicate skin behind your knee, squeezing just above your kneecap simultaneously with the other hand, making you snort.’ I would very much like to hear that, I think.” He moved down to mimic his fictitious self in your writing, making you laugh out loud and kick your leg frantically. “Y/n, I’m not hearing any snorting. So many discrepancies; I have to wonder if you’ve ever been properly tickled in the same way as your fictional likeness.”

“Stohohop… stop making fuhuhun of my writing!” you demanded, although it wasn’t very intimidating laced with your laughter.

“Oh, I don’t jest, dear – I’m merely pointing out facts. Maybe this will make you snort.” He reached down and grabbed your ankle in one hand, lightly tracing the sole of your socked foot with one finger. You, indeed, did snort. “Aha! Maybe you should have requested assistance before posting these inaccuracies.”

“LEAVE MY FEET ALOHOHONE!” you shrieked, yanking your leg to escape his grasp. He responded by simply tightening his grip, dragging four fingers up and down your foot, making sure to note which spots made you jerk. He settled on scratching gently just below the ball of your foot, laughing himself as you rolled side to side trying desperately (and ineffectively) to evade his fingers.

“You realize, darling, you’ve essentially written a map to every ticklish spot on your body. I know exactly how to exploit your unfortunate weakness.” You opened your mouth to protest but he cut you off by unexpectedly switching to digging his fingertips between your ribs. The suddenness of his movement made you squeal, batting weakly at his hands. “It’s adorable, really, how you are pretending to fight me, when we both know this is exactly what you want.”

“SHH! Shuhuhut up Loki!” you countered. He put a hand to his chest in mock offense.

“You wound me, darling,” he teased, smirking. “What did that one quote state? Ah, that’s right! Your ‘death spot’ as you’ve titled it?”

“Wait! Nohoho I’m sohohohorry!!” you panicked, planting your feet on the floor, and trying to scoot away from your assailant.

“I don’t think you are, actually.” His fingers were inching vexingly closer to your ‘death spot’ as he’d pointed out. He found humor in the fact that your laughter slowly began pitching up in octave the closer he got. “I’m pleased that you’ve written this down for me to find, y/n. I don’t believe I’d have found it otherwise – as I understand, it is not a conventional place to be so unbearably ticklish.”

“No! No no! Plehehease Loki!” you pleaded, albeit halfheartedly.

“Hmm… alright then,” he conceded, moving back down to tickle your right side, moving his other hand to scribble on the right side of your belly. It had exactly the effect he was hoping for, causing you to jolt and roll hard toward his hands. Quickly, he grabbed your left side and pushed you all the way over onto your stomach, pinning your hands down to the floor with his knees. “On second thought, I think I’m going to do it.”

“NoOAHAHAH!” you practically screamed in laughter as his fingers made contact with your back, just below your shoulder blades. Seemingly encouraged by your reaction, he applied more pressure, gently kneading between the backs of your ribs. Your nerves were on fire with ticklish electricity, and you tugged desperately to try to free your hands. It wasn’t long before your laughter became silent, your shoulders shaking as you laid there and just accepted your fate.

It seemed Loki had noticed the sudden silence, and he removed his torturous fingers from your back, releasing your hands so you could roll back over. You curled up on your side, knees close to your chest and arms wrapped around your torso rubbing the residual tingles off your sides. He hovered over you, leaning close to whisper in your ear.

“You know, darling – if you wanted me to tickle you, you simply had to ask. I find it quite adorable.”

“Oh my god, Loki…” you groaned, covering your face with your hands once again. A single finger scratched under your arm, making you pull your arms back down. “Stahahap!! Can’t you see I’m embarrassed??”

“Mm, I can see that. But was it worth it?” he asked teasingly, planting a kiss on your cheek. The flames ignited by his lips spread across your face, up to the tips of your ears.

You supposed that, just maybe, it was worth it.

Part 2: A Difficult Question

[rinharu-purple]

On Jealousy

I owe this analysis/answer to an anon ask which I've accidentally posted, though only with the introduction sentence and then couldn't retrieve.🙈

Dear anon, this analysis is dedicated to you.

I HOPE YOU SEE THIS!!! 🙏🏻💫🙏🏻

Thank you @sin-with-quiche for proofreading and @lunabai78 for the spiritual support 💕💕💕

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We have quite a number of moments in our journey with Gavin... Some are funny, some are cute, some are...mmm over the edge

(。-ω-)ﾉ

If you ask me whether Gavin is a jealous man, I would give you two answers:

1) Pre and early relationship... Absolutely!

2) Established relationship... The fitting colloquial term is "territorial".

In order to look at Gavin's attitude towards other males and whether to categorize them as jealous behaviour or not, first we need to describe jealousy .

Jealousy generally refers to the thoughts or feelings of insecurity, fear, and concern over a relative lack of possessions or safety.

The word stems from the French jalousie, formed from jaloux (jealous), and further from Low Latin zelosus (full of zeal), in turn from the Greek word ζήλος (zēlos), sometimes "jealousy", but more often in a positive sense "emulation, ardour, zeal" (with a root connoting "to boil, ferment"; or "yeast").

As you can see, there are different set of emotions that might boil or ferment the reaction of jealousy in one's belly.

My personal take on this is that jealousy arises from two simple things 1) Lack of self-confidence 2) Lack of trust towards one's partner (in terms of romantic jealousy). You don't get jealous when you know you're one hell-of-a-mate and are with the right person. Which is why as we will see in a minute Gavin fits the bill at the beginning but afterwards his jealousy isn't actually jealousy at all!

So which sets of emotions lead to his jealous behaviour and in which conjuncture?

We know that Gavin is completely attuned to MC. This also applies for his reaction towards the presence of other guys around her. So the type of jealousy he displays is attuned to MCs type of reaction to the source of his jealousy. He observes MCs aura and attitude carefully and then reacts in an either desirous, protective, territorial or downright pouty manner.

If he sees the person is overstepping their boundaries like TNTs Tyson or the guys catcalling her during Romantic Date, he gets protective. If he sees someone from his inner cycle being only the slightest overfamiliar with MC as in his phone call with Eli, he gets territorial and draws boundaries. If he gets ditched by MC and walks on her having lunch with another guy all the while she's being touched by him and she's not showing any protest, he pouts in the corner and stabs MC with his words "Too much of anything can get boring after a while" (love this moment and how Joe delivers this line with a strong tonation on the word - boooring-)

If he sees the person is actually drawing MCs attention, well... This is where we can look more into. Because this is actually a stereotypical example of making one jealous. Seeing your love interest with another person in an over-friendly manner.

In Trio Date, he worries that MC might have a crush on Kiro and a close relationship with him. Which is understandably an alarming situation for him, because he isn't that close to her himself and Kiro is... well... Kiro. Pretty much everyone's into him 🌟. But Gavin doesn't show any aggression or envy towards Kiro. On the contrary, he praises him for his charm and even says that he can see what people mean by that as in confessing to being charmed by Kiro himself. I really praise how elegant Gavin acts in the face of this situation 👑 Needless to say, it's a Gavin date, meaning the canon couple in this scenario is Gavin x MC (On a side note pretty bold and disrespectful of PG to put another LI in the supporting male role in a date for another tbh) And also RIP Chandler, the poor guy didn't do anything wrong ^_^

At this point I need to let one thing out of my chest though. I can't say that I appreciate him telling MC when and where to wear revealing clothes <spoiler alert> only for him. Even though we don't actually see him seriously forbidding her to wear them I think it would be better to leave her be the judge of it. But considering the fact that she gets catcalled even at his presence I can kinda see why Gavin gets protective here. On a side note, his girlfriend isn't better on this matter either. MC covers Gavin's body at the beach during 2021 summer event in CN server so that other girls don't drool over him 🤣 These two have some homework to do in that department I tell you that 😅

In the more mature phases of their relationship, we no longer see Gavin feeling himself threatened by the presence of another male. AT ALL! All Gavin jealousy after this point is only because someone is overstepping their boundaries and making "his girl" uncomfortable.

Gavin might be the one acting jealous the most frequently among the LIs, but he never ever gets possessive over her, limits her freedom or makes unconfirmed self proclaims on behalf of her. Being possessive over someone objectifies them and the moment you objectify a person, you no longer need to be in a relationship with them tbh. Leaving your partner room to breathe and respecting their personal space is important and Gavin does this the best alongside with Kiro. We also never see Kiro getting possessive, limiting or doing anything of that nature with MC.

Further in their relationship Gavin still acts jealous, but in an extremely cute, pure and harmless way. Be it against prankster ghosts, animals she's met in the middle of the desert, a wild child, service dogs, birds and co. Basically anyone and anything that diverts her attention from him for more than a nanosecond can be perceived as a threat but an adult male 😂At his core, Gav-babe wants MC all for himself but his jealousy is actually only adorkable.

(´∀｀)♡

In the main story, however, there is a certain LI which becomes the magnet for Gavin's firsthand jealousy and even kinda provokes this. And this is actually what I am dying to write about in this post😈. It only happens at the beginning of the story, but I love it so much and therefore it must be in this post.

Gavin shows signs of jealousy towards one particular LI at various occasions and that is...

Gavin shows obvious signs of jealousy towards our genius scientist and that is completely understandable! Lucien is the one who makes his advances first and is the most straightforward one throughout the main story. Plus, he lives right next to MC and, let's be honest here, is the only one who toys with MC's poor hormones the most. Just to give one example:

Gavin and MC don't become quite a couple before CH12 and S1 Gavin has some issues with self-worth and confidence (towards MC). When he meets MC again after 6 years, he is perplexed and is fairly clueless as to how to approach her romantically. Lest Gavin making the wrong moves, he acts weirdly around MC which further confuses her. Gav-babe is really weird at the beginning of the story 😅

The first time we see Gavin getting jealous about Lucien is in CH2, when he and MC spend a prolonged period of time for the first time as they investigate the time warping incident. Our birdcop is hopelessly in love with MC so when he sees her become so red on the phone with another person, he gets worked up.

Fun trivia, Joe's reaction to this moment can be found here

The second instance is when MC spends two nights in a row with Lucien in CH5 and then falls asleep in her office.

It is crucial to remember at this point that up to CH5, MC seems to be most romantically involved with Lucien and spends most of her time with him. LuLu mercilessly teasing her and flirting with her doesn't help much in that sense either because he is actively making advances on her. Thus announcing his candidacy for "Mr. Love". So when Gavin catches MC spending nights following Lucien, having phone calls with him, living right next door to him, working closely with him and blushes because of him, it's fairly understandable that our birdcop gets fairly jealous because at that point in the story Lucien seems to have a better shot at love with her than he does.

Btw, MC flatlines on his question as to who is the resource of her flustering this time around and doesn't explain herself ;)

Interestingly though, in the third instance, where Gavin sees MC and Lucien, he isn't jealous at all! In the famous "Rude Awakening" moment, the vibes we get at first is as if Gavin walks in to MC and Lucien. But actually our protective boyfriend is there to save MCs life. What's more, he doesn't give credit to Lucien's provocations, such as when he calls Gavin "dangerous" or pulls MC behind him, stays extremely close to her and plays the "protective boyfriend" in front of him. On Gavin's defense, the one actually saves MCs life and protects her is Gavin here as he deflects the bullet shot at her.¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Furthermore, he asks Lucien to take MC home, albeit not before telling her that he will be contacting her later, signaling to Lucien that he shouldn't stick along for long. A highly subtle way of "marking his territory", much like a wolf would. God I love this scene both in the main story and in the anime.

It is necessary to mention at this point that the chapter following this scene revolves around Gavin and MC clearing all kinds of misunderstandings between them and MC trying to bind with him. Hence laying the first stones in the temple of their relationship. After that point we no longer see Gavin showing any kind of jealousy towards anyone. So mark CH7 people ;)

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You know what I would love to see? Gavin getting jealous over Shaw. I wonder whether he even knows that MC spends time with him 🤔 Too bad that PG has left the idea "brother conflict".

If you would like to read another perspective on this, Cheri has posted her analysis here

[lemonpeter]

Royal Blue and-

The idea I had was nice and domestic and soft and then while writing it turned into porn. I hope everyone enjoys lol 💕 based on this post I made this morning

Warnings: nff, bottom!Tony, clothes sharing, dirty talk, underage mention (it doesn’t happen, but it’s fantasized about in dirty talking from both sides), both characters are over 18!!

————

It was no secret that Peter liked to take and wear Tony’s clothes.

The oversized button downs and well-worn sweatpants had become a part of his closet as well as his boyfriend’s. He loved sharing clothes and he knew that Tony loved seeing him wear them.

Peter just hadn’t expected the tables to be turned.

He was sitting in the living room, face buried in his laptop as he frantically typed away at a paper that was due in just a couple hours.

He heard Tony walk out of the bedroom but he didn’t even look up. “Hey, Tones, can you proofread this? I want to make sure it sounds decent.”

“Yeah, I can do that,” Tony told him, moving to sit on the couch next to him.

The younger man glanced over, eyes widening as he looked at his boyfriend. “Woah,” he breathed.

Tony smirked. “What? You like it?”

The older man was seemingly dressed in nothing but Peter’s old sweatshirt from Midtown high. It had been big when he got it and Tony was about the same size, so it fell to the top of his thighs. And it didn’t seem like there was anything underneath, his strong legs on display.

Peter stared at him, eyes trailing over his entire body. “I...yeah….”

Tony started taking his laptop while he was distracted, grinning. “You want me to look over this, you said? I can definitely do that, honey.” He acted like he was going to start reading over it, ignoring the weak noise that he heard come from his boyfriend.

He’d never worn any of Peter’s clothes. Not in front of him, at least. But he was curious if he would feel as strongly about sharing clothes once Tony got in on it. Call it an experiment.

Clearly he still enjoyed it.

Peter’s eyes didn’t leave him as he read over the paper. His hands twitched at his sides because he wanted to touch, wanted to feel how the comfortable fabric of the sweatshirt felt with Tony’s muscles underneath. But he didn’t touch. Not yet.

Tony glanced to him after a couple minutes, done with reading over the paper. It really was good and well-written, he couldn’t help himself but to read the entire thing. Even if his main goal was to tease in the moment. “It’s good, well worded and all. I think you’d be able to turn it in just like that and get a decent grade.”

“You think so?”

“I do,” he confirmed, moving to hand the laptop back. When Peter didn’t take it, he laughed and set it on the coffee table instead. “Distracted?”

“You’re wearing my sweatshirt,” he said dumbly. His brain couldn’t come with anything else. Just stating the obvious, which was all he could focus on.

Tony chuckled softly, nodding. “Yeah, I am,” he agreed. “Saw it in the closet and just decided to wear it today. Is that alright?”

Peter didn’t answer the question. “Are you wearing anything else?”

The older man laughed harder, pulling him in for a gentle kiss. “Why?”

“Are you?” He whispered against his lips insistently.

“Why don’t you find out, honey?”

Peter’s hands were instantly on his thighs, sliding up and pushing the sweatshirt up.

The action revealed that Tony wasn’t, in fact, wearing anything underneath. The shirt was the only thing hiding his body.

“I want you to ride me,” he blurted out. “Wearing this. Please.”

Tony bit his lip, grinning. His plan was going way better than he expected. Even if Peter was moving way faster then he thought he would. “Oh, I can definitely do that.”

Peter laid down on the couch more, letting Tony straddle his hips and pull down the sweats he was wearing.

“You’re already getting hard, you’re really excited for this,” Tony teased lightly, wrapping his hand around Peter’s cock and stroking slowly.

The younger man gasped softly, nodding. “Yeah,” he breathed. “I- I like seeing you in that shirt. And don’t…don’t even tease me about being excited.”

Tony’s cock was slowly starting to fill out as well, tenting the front of the sweatshirt. But he was going to tease anyways. It’s who he was.

Peter hips rocked up into the touch as Tony coaxed his cock to full hardness. Then he bit his lip as the older man grabbed the lube from the coffee table.

They had a bad habit of fucking all over the house. So there was conveniently placed lube just about everywhere.

Tony slicked up two fingers, quickly stretching himself and fucking back on the digits to tease his watching boyfriend. Two wasn’t going to be quite enough to make things easiest, but neither of them were patient enough to wait long.

So before long he was sinking down onto Peter’s cock, moaning weakly at the stretch and feeling of being filled so well.

He stayed still for a moment once Peter was all the way in, breathing hard and adjusting to the feeling. Then he lifted the sweatshirt he was wearing slightly, revealing his throbbing cock. “Look at what you do to me, honey.”

Peter groaned as he watched, hips bucking up to grind against Tony’s ass. All he could focus on was how beautiful the royal blue fabric looked against Tony’s flushed cock. “So pretty...god, Tony, don’t tease.”

Tony snorted. “Is it god or Tony? I won’t say no to either one.”

“Tones, come on,” the younger man whined, hips moving weakly again.

He chuckled, slowly starting to ride Peter. “Okay, okay.”

His hands slid over his chest, pushing the sweatshirt up and showing off his muscled abdomen before dropping it again. “I see why you like this so much, it’s really soft.”

Like that was the only reason he liked it.

Peter nodded a little, moaning softly as his hands moved to grip Tony’s hips. “It’s good...looks really good on you.”

Hmm. That wouldn’t do. Tony liked making his boyfriend practically melt from his incredible ride, but he wanted more. He wanted Peter’s energy and dom-y side.

So he bit his lip, hands wandering back down and playing at the hem of the shirt. “You think so? Could you imagine us doing this when you got it? Oh- fuck,” he mumbled, eyes rolling back as he rolled his hips in just the right way for Peter’s cock to brush his prostate. Much better.

“When I got it?”

“When I met you, Peter. I saw the way you looked at me when we met. You were so young but not afraid to tell me what was what,” he groaned.

Peter grinned a little, biting his lip gently to hide it as he thrust his hips up. “I definitely could have topped you back then. Snarky, arrogant you? You needed a little twink to fuck you and show you your place.”

Bingo.

“Could have fucked me on that little twin bed,” Tony teased breathily. “Wearing this sweatshirt. Reminded me of what we were doing. How I was getting railed by a high schooler.”

“Oh, you would have liked that. Almost legal but not quite, still going to give you what you needed. God, you wouldn’t have even...even felt bad.” Peter panted as he talked, the scenario fueling every word that came from his mouth.

Tony bit his lip, moving faster and rolling his hips to make sure he hit the spot again. He didn’t respond, cheeks burning at the thought.

It was all play, all just talk. But the talk just built up the burning pleasure in Tony’s stomach. He loved it when Peter pointed out their age difference, using it to degrade him and make him feel dirty.

It was wrong in all the best ways.

The words that came out of Peter’s mouth were just increasingly dirty, making even Tony blush. The older man didn’t stop his movements at all, getting them both to the edge quickly as he listened to every word.

Tony’s hands moved to lay flat on Peter’s chest as he bounced faster, head dropping back. His cock twitched at the same time as he clenched down around Peter. “I’m close, honey...oh, fuck.”

Peter watched him, eyes half lidded and lips parted from pleasure. “Me too...don’t stop, please.” He held onto his partner’s hips, aiding his movement.

“I really love seeing you like this,” he told Tony. “In my clothes, bouncing on my cock.” His hips rocked as he talked, trying to get to his end that much faster. “Do you like wearing my clothes from high school? Does it remind you of how filthy you are, sleeping with someone less than half your age?”

Tony couldn’t even speak, just a weak sound pulling itself from his throat.

“Can’t even talk now? Are you embarrassed?” Peter gripped his hips tighter, breathing harder as his end got close.

Tony could feel the younger man’s cock twitching inside him as they moved together. “No-not embarrassed...oh, god,” he breathed, eyes slipping shut.

“You love this, love fucking yourself on my cock, don’t you? Fucking your jailbait boyfriend,” he teased. They were both over the age of consent but it was more fun to play the taboo. They both loved it.

Which was obvious when that phrase made Tony slip over the edge. He stilled his movements as he came, cum spilling mostly over Peter’s chest as he clenched down hard around the cock still fucking him. “Oh, Peter! Oh my god, don’t stop, don’t stop,” he moaned.

Peter’s hips fucked up into him faster as he stilled, chasing his own high. “Not stopping, need to cum too,” he breathed.

It was only a few more moments before his orgasm washed over him as well.

Tony, still coming down from his own high, couldn’t help but admire the expression of pure bliss that held Peter’s face as he came.

They were both breathing hard as they rode out the highs, slowly relaxing.

Tony leaned down to kiss Peter gently, smiling against his lips.

Peter pushed him away slightly, making a noise.

“What? Don’t you want kisses?” He frowned.

“I don’t want cum on my sweatshirt,” the younger man whined. “But...too late. You leaned in it.”

“Oh...sorry,” he said sheepishly.

Peter shook his head, laughing a little. “Well, I guess it’s not the first time.”

Tony leaned in again, kissing him without being pushed away.

He’d definitely have to bring Peter’s clothes into his own closet more often.

[djemsostylist]

Of Queens and Trash

Here’s the thing. SCK has been on a downward trend since 13. The breakup was long, getting together again was tiring, the amnesia plot was poorly handled and the mess that came following his recovery was, well, a mess. The necessary break for covid gave us a chance for a fresh start for Edser. All the bad stuff in the past, and a focus in the last episodes of them being able to finally fulfill all the promises they had not been able to. After all, this was a story that, at its core, was about two people who met and fell in love and who, no matter what, chose to be together. Invisible handcuffs. And with the return of the OG writer, it seemed we might finally get that. After 39 episodes of angst and only 7(?) of real togetherness, surely it was time? Forget the pain of the past, and start with Edser navigating their world together.

And then the trailer dropped. And all of a sudden, all the people who had spent months eviscerating Serkan for behaving badly in the 30s were celebrating this new plot, the “great angst” and Eda “being a Queen.”

For me, I can’t get over the hiding of the child. It's a hardline deal breaker. I don’t think it matters who writes it, I think it's an awful plotline. No matter how "good" the trailer looks or moments seem, I will remember that I was watching a show about two people who loved each other and never wanted to be apart, about a man who learned how to open his heart, and this ruined it all.

Now, I think it's worth noting that my hard line, in this particular case, is in response to Edser, if that makes sense. I’m not hardline, “if this is in a story I’m not watching”. If it works for the characters and story because that is the type of story being told, then fine.

I don't subscribe to the woke feminism brand of "all women are Queens and all men are Trash" which seems to be a trend of late (and not just in fandom). I think people are people and people are generally imperfect but also trying. I don’t think women, simply by virtue of carrying a child, get full say in what happens to the child, regardless of the father’s wishes. I'm not fond of a “hiding a kid storyline”, and while I get the whole "my body my choice" style of arguing, it took two people to make the baby. Two people get a say in what happens. I get you are growing the kid, but you didn't spontaneously conceive.

For me, Edser being apart and/or hiding a kid is a hardline. It doesn't fit with the characters as I know them and it doesn't fit with the storyline. And look--I hated the amnesia plot. I thought there were a literal million ways this could have been done better, but it's what we got. So for everyone suddenly defending this new plot, despite it making about as much sense as Eda getting married to make Serkan remember her, then that means everything goes. No blaming writers or ignoring canon...everything has context and meaning now. And since “it's realistic” is also a common refrain, then fine. Let’s go realistic.

Imagine being in a plane crash. You wake up, you have clear physical/mental blocks. For someone who likes to be in control, that's terrifying. You have a ring on your finger with a woman's name you don't know, and an entire year missing. You call the one person you know will come (since your parents and friends are useless) and she comes and tells you a story that jives. You can't remember shit and you keep getting flashes and your hands won't work, so you take what she tells you, because why would you have any reason to doubt? It’s not like you can remember anyway, and trying to remember hurts.

You finally go back home, and you recognize nothing about your own life. Friends, family...everything is different. Your mom is out, your dad is gone, your best friends are married. You don't even live in the same house, you have people working in your company you don’t know--even your dog is gone. And then you have a hysterical woman throwing pictures in your face of a man you don't recognize and your brain is still foggy and all your friends and family seem to be shrugging their shoulders at you.

You're terrified and alone and all you get is some vagueness about an epic love story and too much emotion and all you want to do is hide. From everything. Plus your heart is doing this thing every time the girl is near and you think you might be dying maybe and remember how your brother died?

So, the girl kisses you, you literally feel like you might be dying, and it's like naw. Fuck this. I'm getting back an ounce of control. So you propose to Selin. I mean you don’t love her and you barely want her but at least she is the same. At least she hasn’t changed, and at least she doesn’t stare at you with the weight of a million expectations that everyone else does. At least she doesn’t look at you and hope to see a man you can’t ever remember being.

But then the girl everyone claims is your soulmate is suddenly engaged to another man, and spends every moment after that claiming she hates you, she is over you, she is better off/happier without you, doesn't need you.

So it's like, okay, what is the truth. Your brain isn't helping, your friends aren't helping, she isn't helping. So you lash out, you close off, because really, what else is left. Your life isn’t your life, your mind isn’t your mind, you can’t even figure out what’s real and what isn’t. And she’s getting married and you want to die but she’s getting married and surely if she loved you she wouldn’t be doing this?

And then you get your memories back. Finally. Everything comes flooding back ,and it's a lot. You cope in shitty ways, you don't respond well, etc. You’ve returned from the dead twice, and everything feels just slightly off, but maybe you can make this work. At least you have her. After a few days, you’re feeling like your old self. You've got your memories, your girl, the possibility of the future you had snatched twice, and then BOOM. She rejects you, out of nowhere.

Won't talk, won't communicate, you have no idea what the fuck is happening. She’s crying and sad but also not leaving but also not staying and your brain can’t quite work things out but all you can do is promise that you love her, only her, always her, forever. Surely she must know that by now, right?

And then she tells you about the baby. You can't remember the sex of course, but then you find out it probably happened while your brain was fucked, and you barely have time to process this before oh yeah the love of your life is leaving you bc she would rather you raise a baby with your rapist. And suddenly you might be dying, again.

But you stop her. You stop her and even though she says she didn’t come back for you, why else would she have stayed? So, you finally get her back, she tattoos you on her finger and maybe just maybe everything will be fine when BOOM. Cancer. You aren't even over the other shit, and you have a fucking tumor. You are 30 years old, you've survived a plane crash, amnesia, and now you have a tumor. How many times can a person die?

And so you don’t cope well. You withdraw, you back away. Your brother died when he was young, you know what that does to a person. You know what it did to your family. You have this fear that curls around your heart that says “but what if she becomes my mother.” And she goes. She leaves and she takes your heart and your child (that you don’t even know about) and it’s like...fuck. Again. Because everyone leaves you, eventually. And somehow, it’s always your fault.

So, what I'm saying is, Eda endured a lot, sure. She was hurt. Their breakup in 14 was hard and I’m not denying that (although there is another post I could write about how since Eda never actually uses her words to tell him how she feels he can, perhaps, be understood in assuming that breaking up after barely being together would hurt but also that she would move on and live her life happily without him. Which I guess season 2 proves…) Losing Serkan to an accident/amnesia was hard, looking at the body of the man she loves but not seeing the man she loves must have been agony. But Serkan was fucking wrecked. So instead of choosing to write a plot where they both get to heal, where they both get to explore their pain and work through it together, we get Serkan who reverted to being a robot to cope with massive trauma and PTSD, and essentially is abandoned by everyone, again.

I guess what I'm saying is, if staying with him and supporting him when he was dealing with trauma was too much for her, then fine.That is very true for some people, and it’s certainly realistic. But I don't really think that jives with Eda and her character, and while it isn't a trauma competition, I'd still think Serkan comes out a winner here. Eda lost her parents, which was awful. She lost him, but she got him back. Twice. His trauma is losing his brother, being abandoned by his parents, a plane crash, amnesia, emotional manipulation/abuse and cancer. And then he gets punished by having his daughter taken away from him because he was having a hard time coping. Keeping a kid a secret isn't "protecting the child" it's punishing the father.

Tl;dr The direction they have taken the characters is gross for both mains, but if people are trying to justify Eda keeping his child from him because “he deserves it” or “she did what was best for her” then I think we maybe haven’t been watching the same show. Even if he said “I don’t want kids,” saying that to a hypothetical child is very different then being told “a baby is very much our reality.” Because that's the crux right? It's not that he decided he just didn't want to be a father ever, he's scared of having a family and losing them or of them losing him. And then she made that very fear be realized. Which is tragic and quite the opposite of what his life partner needed to do in that situation.

Bitte.

Thanks to @lolo-deli for the proofread and the final lines, you are the best. And for putting up with my uncontrollable ranting about this for days.

[hstyleshoney]

Stay With Me  - part one

AU friends with benefits but things get complicated, like they always do

word count: around 8.3K // angst, alcohol consumption, language 

A/N: Hiiiiii! So, back in September I posted a preview kinda thing to a fic I was just casually writing and now I have finally finished it! Took a while but I’ve been going through some shit but now it’s done! It’s gonna be a two part thing (I think) because it turned out way longer than I first expected, and this part is still so long, woops.  It’s the first thing I’ve written in YEARS so please be nice haha.  (Also, English is not my first language so I’m sorry if some grammar is wrong. I’ve proofread it many times but it could still be bit off in some places.)

AND please let me know if you liked it and if I should post part 2 as well. Feedback is so so so appreciated because it’s been sooooooooo long since I posted anything and I’m scared hahah anyways..!

Hope you like it!

His lips were hot against her skin when he leaned in and whispered in her ear.

“Your place or mine tonight?”

She smiled to herself and her heart skipped a beat when she felt his warm body press against her back. The music was loud around the two of them and she could hardly hear herself think, yet his voice was clear as day. She turned to look at him and was met by his familiar warm grin as he looked right back.

“What makes you think I’ll be going home with you tonight?” she teased.

He snorted and raised his eyebrows, and she had to bite down on the inside of her cheeks to stop herself from smiling too much.

“Well, love” he started and spun her around so he could place his hands on her hips. She felt her cheeks flush under his stare as he pulled her even closer to him. He smelled like beer and tequila mixed with that cologne she loved so much. Her knees weakened and he smirked. “I think we both know you are.”

He was right.

But she wasn’t going to let him have that.

“It’s awfully bold of you to assume such a thing, Mr. Styles.”

“Is it though?” He was still smirking and she felt her knees weaken even more as his tongue poked out to wet his pink lips. Her heart was beating so hard she was sure he would’ve heard it if it wasn’t for the loud music. Sweaty bodies kept bumping into the two of them on the overcrowded dance floor, which normally she couldn’t stand, but she was drunk. Very drunk and she was hungry and tired... and also in a huge need of a wee.

However, now Harry was standing in front of her.

So needless to say nothing else really mattered anymore.

His mere presence made her forget about all the people around them and suddenly her bladder didn’t seem so full after all. That’s the effect he had on her and he knew it. With his soft brown hair that curled so pretty at the tips, his smooth skin and green eyes; there was no way she wasn’t going home with him again tonight. He was the best thing she had ever laid her eyes on and he also wanted to take her home.

So who was she to say no?

“Yours then,” she replied and tried to not sound too eager. Harry squeezed her hips again as she finally confirmed they would indeed go home with one other again and pulled her even closer into him. His chest pressed against hers and she swore she could feel his heartbeat against hers.

“See that wasn’t so hard to say, was it?” She rolled her eyes as she noticed his smug grin and as much as it pained her to do; she pushed him off, pointing a finger into his chest.

“We’re stopping to buy fries on the way though... and you’re paying!”

Harry laughed and agreed, but not before adding; “I can give you something a lot better than fries once we get back.”

And well… she didn’t disagree.

-

She wasn’t entirely sure when this thing between the two of them started, or how it started even. It was just one of those things that happened one night. Harry first came into her life when her flatmate Louisa started dating his mate Tom during their first year of uni.

The first time she met him they didn’t really speak to each other. It had really just been a case of her admiring him from afar as he was approached by a handful of women at the student bar. She thought he was probably the prettiest guy she had ever laid her eyes on and thought to herself that he was just way too cool to ever notice her.

It was obvious from the start, by just watching him, that he had an aura around him that drew everyone in. People, both boys and girls, flooded around him wherever he went. He was always the center of attention and she understood why. Because not only was he the prettiest guy she had ever seen, he was also one of the nicest guys she had ever met. At first she had just assumed he’d be an arsehole because to be fair she had never really met a guy that got as much attention as him that wasn’t one.  

However, as Louias’s and Tom’s relationship grew more serious; the more all of them hung out and she started talking to him rather than just staring from afar. She got to know him and even though the two of them were quite different from each other, they still became good friends.

While she was more of a typical girly girl who enjoyed spending a little too much money on overpriced makeup palettes and listened to whatever songs were in the top list that week Harry was a little more into old school music, bringing up bands and songs she had never heard of before. He did all his shopping at different thrift shops. He wore weird shirts and painted his nails without caring what anyone else thought while she couldn’t even leave her house without checking with all her roommates at least three times if her outfit was okay. She loved scrolling through Instagram. Harry didn’t even have an account.

He was interesting, alluring and cool.

She just wasn’t any of that.

She wasn’t his type and he was simply just out of her league.

Until one night.

It was at the start of their third year at uni and they were out to celebrate their friend Jax’s birthday. To make a complicated story short, there had just been a ridiculous amount of alcohol consumed and when she told everyone she was leaving Harry stood up too and announced he’d come with her, and because everyone was so drunk, the two of them included, no one thought more about it.

They left the club together. Harry got them an Uber and when it stopped outside her house he got out as well.

Kisses were shared and clothes came off and the next day she thought she was still dreaming when Harry was right there next to her when she woke up. There was no awkwardness though as they shared a cup of tea and he made them a full English breakfast to cure their hangovers.

And then they did the same thing again next weekend and it kinda just became a thing. That was three months ago now and it was still nothing they really talked about. Which was fine; she didn’t really want to talk about it. Because what was she supposed to say? Whatever was going on between them was working and she didn’t want to complicate things.

She was fine with just waking up next to him every now and again. Especially now when the nights were getting colder it was just nice to have a warm body to snuggle up to.

It was an agreement that worked well for both of them, even if she did fancy him a little it wasn’t a full-blown crush and Harry kept calling her his friend so that’s what she also settled on calling herself. She knew she wasn’t the type of girl he usually went for and that somehow made it easier to keep her feelings for him platonic. He was too cool for her anyway.

This way she just didn’t have to swipe through tinder or chat some random guy up at the bar to get laid.

Louisa kept warning her that she was going to get her heart broken but it was just sex. Amazing sex. He made her feel like no other man ever had. Harry knew just how to work her and it made her lose her breath every single time. Her whole body was on fire anytime he touched her. She didn’t want to think about getting her heart broken.  

“What time is it?”

Harry’s raspy voice startled her out of her thoughts and his body vibrated against hers under the duvet as he chuckled at her reaction. His arm was slung over her waist loosely and she could feel his warm breath on the back of her neck, leaving goosebumps all over her skin.

“I dunno,” she whispered back and leaned into his touch a little more. The hair on his legs tickled her smoother ones and she could feel her skin sticking against his, but neither of them made any effort to move away from each other. It was still early though, that much she knew. The sun was barely shining in through the blinds in Harry’s bedroom.

“Hm,” he hummed and tightened his grip a little. “Can’t sleep?”

“Just thinking. “

“About…?”

“Nothing really.”

Harry hummed again but didn’t say anything else. They laid in silence while Harry circled his thumb over her stomach lightly. It felt like the most natural thing in the world. Just the two of them, tangled in each other’s naked bodies and the sheets. She could feel a hangover coming over her slowly. Her head felt heavy and throbbed painfully against the soft pillows. There was a glass of water on the bedside table tempting her but reaching out for it meant moving away from Harry and she was just way too comfortable to do so.

It wasn’t long until Harry’s soft snores filled the room again and his thumb stilled. She sighed deeply, sleep creeping over her too. They were friends. Friends that slept together and cuddled. Nothing else. Just friends.

… but she really could stay like this forever.

-

The next time she woke up Harry wasn’t next to her anymore and the room was a lot brighter. A weak whimper left her lips and she buried her face into the pillow; the sunlight too much for her sensitive eyes and raging headache, which only seemed to have gotten worse.

Blindly she reached out for the glass she’d spotted earlier, but instead of actually getting a hold of it it was knocked over. It landed on the floor with a soft thud and her eyes shot open at the sound. Glancing down she noticed that, thankfully, the glass hadn’t broken into a million pieces, but unfortunately there was water everywhere.

“Damn it,” she muttered and fell back, hiding her face in the pillow again. Stupid water. Stupid hangover. Stupid everything.

Her head was spinning and her body ached. This hangover was going to be rough and she cursed herself for letting Jax and Beth persuade her into taking all those shots the night before. She knew it was going to come back and bite her in the ass today. Stupid Jax. Stupid Beth. Stupid shots.

Outside the bedroom she could hear Harry roaming around in the kitchen, talking to his flatmate Isaac and every now and then he’d sing along to the music playing softly in the background. She relaxed as she listened to his voice. At least there was something good about this morning.

And it was enough to eventually get her out of bed.

She found her black underwear at the bottom of the bed and pulled them on, stepping around the water she had just spilled as she got out and made a mental note to herself to fix that mess later.

The black strap dress and oversized blazer from the night before were stern across the floor and she stared at them for a long time before deciding she wasn’t in the mood to put them back on at this time. Looking around the room she spotted something very familiar. The yellow jumper she always wore when she slept over was hung neatly over Harry’s chair by the desk, waiting for her, and she smiled to herself knowing he’d put it there for her to wear.

Always so considerate.

“Jesus, you look like absolute shit,” Isaac teased when she eventually emerged from the bedroom and into the kitchen “Wild night?”

“Fuck off,” she groaned and walked straight past him and over to the sink to pour herself a glass of water, downing it in pretty much one gulp. It spilled down her chin and onto the jumper, leaving a big wet stain, but she really couldn’t care less. Water had never tasted better.

“Ah, I’m just saying,” Isaac laughed. “You look like you got run over by a truck.”

“Feels like I was,” she admitted and slumped down on one of the chairs next to the kitchen counter. “Ugh, I’m never drinking again.”

“Ha! Yeah, I’ve heard that one before.”

The kitchen was surprisingly cold and she regretted not stealing a pair of Harry’s sweatpants before leaving his warm comfy bedroom. She let her eyes wander over to him and felt her pulse pick up. Harry was standing shirtless in the kitchen, only dressed in his regular Nike sports shorts, and she just couldn’t stop herself from staring at his tattoos and toned chest. The same chest she’d left kisses all over just hours ago and it gave her goosebumps just thinking about. He had a spatula in one of his hands and a cup of coffee in the other. As always, he was perfect and she looked like a mess. Great.

Harry smirked as he caught her staring, but didn’t say anything about it.

“Do you want some breakfast?” he asked instead.

“Please.”

A minute later he placed a plate of eggs and some toast in front of her. The smell of it made her nauseous but she also knew that if she didn’t eat anything she was going to feel a lot worse soon. She’d much rather crawl back into Harry’s bed and maybe sleep for another hour or two, preferably with him beside her.

But now she had a plate of food in front of her that Harry had made and it would be rude to at least not try to eat some. So she ate in silence while listening to Harry tell Isaac about the previous night and slowly she realized that she had a few blackouts from the night.

Shit, how much did I drink?

She really shouldn’t have taken those shots. Her mother would have lectured her for hours if she knew about the heavy party nights that sometimes occurred, having a strong belief alcohol was indeed a gift from the devil himself. Alcohol and sugar. She had lost count of the number of books her mother had given her about healthy living and mindful thinking, and she was pretty sure she was getting another one for Christmas. Harry once found her hidden stash of books she’d put in the back of her closet and begged her for one. She happily gave it to him.

Harry would probably love her mother’s rants about the dangers of alcohol and unhealthy meals she thought to herself and almost rolled her eyes. She could picture it now; Harry and her mother sharing recipes with each other that claimed your life would be twenty years longer and ganging up on her about the lack of exercise she did. What a nightmare.

Yet, she had to ignore the warm feeling in her belly at the thought of Harry getting along with her mother.

“Alright well,” Isaac announced after a while and stood up. “I gotta get to work. Fuckin’ Jake called in sick so now I gotta cover his shift at the shop.”

“Sucks mate,” Harry replied while he shoved the last piece of his toast into his mouth. “At least you’re getting some extra cash.”

“Yeah yeah, something like that,” Isaac muttered as he dropped his dirty plate into the sink. “I’ll see you guys later. Hope you feel better party girl!”

She shot him a weak smile and a nod as a thank you. Her plate of food was still half full and the cup of tea Harry had also made for her was now cold. She just couldn’t force herself to eat more. Stupid shots.

“You really do look like you got run over by a truck,” Harry chuckled when Isaac was gone and she sent him a glare. “How much did you drink? Didn’t realize you were that drunk when we left.”

“I actually have no idea. I think Jax and Beth might have poisoned me.”

“Ah,” he nodded. “That explains it.”

“Mm.“

“Can I get you anything else?”

“No, that’s okay” she told him. “Kinda just wanna go back to bed if I’m honest.”

“‘S your lucky day then,” Harry said and rose to his feet, offering his hand out to her. “Let’s go.”

She could have cried out of happiness when she finally crawled back into Harry’s comfortable bed. The sheets had never been more comforting as she pulled them up to her chin and made herself into a little cocoon. She never wanted to leave his bed ever again. “You are ridiculous.”

She peeked out at him from under the duvet and noticed him smiling down at her fondly, but his smile soon turned into a small frown. “Is that water all over the floor?”

“Oh yeah... that was me. Sorry,” she pouted.

“I repeat, you are ridiculous,” he rolled his eyes but she also knew he wasn’t upset when she noticed his little dimple.

He quickly cleaned up the mess she had created earlier and then jumped up to join her. The bed shook as he landed and she groaned as another wave of nausea washed over her. But having him next to her again made her forget all about it. He smelled so good. How did he always smell so good?

She rested her head on his shoulder as he pulled up his laptop and signed onto his Netflix account, picking the first random movie that caught his interest.

And that’s how the two of them spent the next few hours. Just laying in bed together watching random movies on Netflix with her dozing in and out of sleep for most of the time. Harry kept running his fingers through her hair, gently scratching the top of her head and it was probably the most soothing thing she had ever experienced.

Eventually, she started feeling better but made no effort to move or get up.

Not until he did.

“I’m gonna take a shower quickly,” he announced as the third movie finished. She followed him with her gaze as he got up and pulled out a pair of fresh boxers out of his drawer. Her heart beat a little extra. “You can watch something else if you want.”

“Thanks. Are you doing something later or?” she asked casually and pulled his computer onto her lap.

“Yeah, uh, I forgot I have a date actually.”

She’s pretty sure she forgot how to breathe then.

A date.

Harry had a date.

“Oh... “ is all she managed to say. Her mouth felt as dry as it did when she woke up earlier that morning and she racked her brain for something else to say. Unfortunately there was nothing. Harry stopped and looked at her.

“Is - I mean...  um, is that okay?”

“What?”

She felt stupid. So utterly stupid but she just couldn’t find the words to speak. She felt weird, even though she knew he was technically only her friend and she knew they were not even close to being exclusive. But Harry was going on a date. Like a proper date. Not just hooking up after a night out. A date. With someone else.

“Are you okay with me going on a date... ?” he asked slowly, inspecting her closely and that’s when she realized she needed to say something fast.

“Yeah, no, of course!” she tried to laugh but it was more of a strange cackle coming out of her mouth rather than a laugh. Harry eyed her for another minute and she sat up. Her palms were sweaty and her cheeks hot. She felt like a bigger mess now than she had all morning. “Harry, we’re friends. Why would I care if you go on a date?”

Harry looked at her a bit startled.

“Well, because we-”

“I’m fine,” she interrupted before he could finish and cursed herself yet again for being so fucking weird. They were friends. She had no reason to not be okay with it. She knew she wasn’t his type. Of course he was going on a date with someone else. She knew this and she needed to get herself together before he wanted to talk about something related to the two of them and make things complicated. The thing between them wasn’t something they ever talked about and she refused to start doing it now. “I’m excited for you even,” she shot him the biggest fake smile she could muster. “Who is she?”

What a stupid question.

“Uh, a friend of Matt’s or something like that,” he shrugged, but he looked at her with uncertainty written all across his face; almost like he didn’t believe a single word she was saying.  “I don’t know really. He set us up.”

“Cool.”

“Cool... ?”

Suddenly she doesn’t want to be in his bed anymore. For the very first time, she felt awkward sitting in front of him.

“Yeah, cool.”

“Oookay.”

Silence.

It’s uncomfortable and she knew she messed this up. Both of them were frozen in place and she had to look away from him before it was all too much. She was so aware of how her cheeks had turned into a deep color of red and she felt nauseous, only this time she knew it was not from the alcohol.

“I’m just,” Harry coughed in an attempt to break the heavy tension and she wanted nothing more than to disappear.  “I’m gonna go take that shower.” He pointed awkwardly towards the door.

“Yeah, uh,” she said and tried her absolute hardest to get herself back together. To act normal. “I’m going to head home anyways I think.”

“No, you don’t-”

“It’s okay,” she interrupted him again. “Beth wanted to have pizza night and I should stop being such a lazy ass anyways. I have some studying to do before my lecture tomorrow too, soo... yeah, gonna head home.”

Harry looked at her for a moment, scanning her face after any other sign that something was wrong, but she managed to keep it together and he nodded.

“Alright, well I’ll see you around yeah?”

“Of course.”

When he left the room she let out a breath she’d been holding ever since Harry first mentioned the word ‘date’. She also realized she did not like the way she just reacted and that maybe, very possibly, Lou might have been right.

She was fucked.

-

For the next few days she couldn’t stop thinking about Harry and his date. She wished she could go back in time and take back everything she said; wished she would have reacted differently. It was hard to think about anything else and all she wanted to do was to go and see him and ask him all about it. How did it go? Was she nice? What did they do? Was he going to see her again? Did they kiss?

And if she hadn’t been so embarrassed about her behaviour she probably would've done so, but she had no explanation as to why she’d been so weird and she was too scared to go deeper into her own feelings and find one. So as much as she wanted to see him she was also extremely terrified to do so.

But it was really eating her up.

She couldn’t focus on anything else.

And it was strange.

Before all this, she was sure of her feelings towards Harry. Sure he was attractive, he was nice and he made her laugh, but she thought she’d managed to keep it platonic. Now she just felt weird. Everything about their arrangement felt weird, and she didn’t know what to do. Deep down she knew there wasn’t much she could actually do about it. He went on a date and she was his friend. Friends with benefits. They weren’t anything exclusive. He hadn’t done anything wrong. She told him so herself.

Still, something felt wrong.

On Thursday night their whole gang made plans to meet up for their regular quiz night down at the pub and she stood in front of her mirror for an hour, preparing herself to see him again. She changed her outfit five times and rehearsed what to say when she saw him over and over again.

Only for him to not show up.

So instead of being squished into his side all night, she was stuck between Jax and Louisa and she found herself missing him. She didn’t even have to ask to know he was on another date, yet when Isaac confirmed it later she felt her heart drop down to her stomach.

Louisa glanced over at her when Isaac told them and she forced a smile, not ready to let anyone know about the weird feeling in her chest. Louisa also tried to bring it up on their way home, but she brushed it off with the same thing she always did.

“We’re just friends.”

But once she was home in bed it was harder to act like nothing was troubling her. Harry was out on another date and it shouldn’t be bothering her but it did. It bothered her a lot. He should’ve been right there with her, laughing along at their friends' jokes all night and then suggest coming back home with her.

Now he just wasn't and it felt wrong. It was only three months ago that he came home with her for the first time but somehow it wasn’t until now she realized that she may have gotten a little too used to it.

It was so stupid the whole thing. Like ridiculously so.

She knew from the first night that she would never be more than a few drunken nights to him. That his touch wasn’t hers to keep. It belonged to someone else. So why did it feel so weird now?

On Friday night, Beth invited a few people over from uni to their place for a game night and some wine. She joined them but decided to stay away from the wine. They played monopoly for most of the evening while gossiping about everyone they knew. It was nice. It was fun. She won at monopoly. But most importantly it helped her to not worry about what Harry was doing or who he was seeing. It felt like her brain got a long awaited break from everything and she slept better that night than she had all week.

It was on Saturday it all came crashing down.

They were all going out. The whole gang. As always everyone had shown up for pre-drinks at the house she shared with Louisa, Beth and Aliyah as it was the biggest one. Jax had as usual brought along a bottle of Fireball that he forced everyone take a shot out of. Beth refused to let anyone else control the music. Tom and Louisa were loved up on the sofa together. Isaac was in the kitchen mixing drinks for everyone while Aliyah complained about Beth’s choice of music. All in all it was a pretty typical Saturday night and it was all going well.

Until Harry showed up. With a girl.

She almost dropped her drink when she saw them and everyone in the room turned to look at her when they entered. Once again she had to force a smile to assure them she didn't care and more than ever before she tried to ignore the way her heart sank inside her chest.

And for some very odd reason; she was the first to stand up and greet Harry’s new lady friend. Maybe because everyone was looking at her and it felt like they were just waiting for her to start crying in front of everyone. She didn’t want their pity so she stood and shook this new girl’s hand, acting like everything was completely fine.

“Cleo,” the girl introduced herself with a cheery smile.

And that was about it.

After that she didn’t really talk to her anymore. That’s something she left for the rest of the group to do.

It was hard to concentrate on anything else for the rest of the evening and despite promising herself to not take a shot from Jax’s bottle of Fireball; she had three. The alcohol was warm as it made its way down her throat and she noticed Louisa watching her with worried eyes.

And Harry? She couldn’t even look at him. He tried to talk to her and start a conversation at one point but it felt like her brain was about to explode from anxiety so she quickly excused herself and hid in the bathroom for a good twenty minutes.

She tried her very best to be engaged in the conversations around her and she tried so hard to have a good time. Just like she had the night before. But with Harry right there with Cleo it was fucking impossible and she felt like a green little goblin watching the new pair.

Cleo was pretty much everything she expected her to be and more. She just couldn’t stop staring at them. Harry had a hand on her thigh and she was so polite to everyone. Just like him. She had tasteful tattoos all over and it was almost like the two of them had coordinated their outfits before coming over. Both dressed in checkered prints and matching colors of pink and red. She felt so stupid in her boring and basic black jumpsuit and her dull eye make-up.

Cleo was so effortlessly pretty and she just wasn’t.

It was a slap in the face just how right they looked together.

And it just got worse when they arrived at the club because under the flashing lights on the dance floor she saw how Harry leaned in and kissed Cleo. One of his hands was low on her back while the other caressed her face. Everything was spinning as she watched them kiss she knew it was not only because of the alcohol in her veins.

It hit her hard. Because a small, a very small, and naive part of her thought that maybe he’d still want to go home with her and not Cleo. But as she watched him kiss Cleo the way he used to kiss her ruined all hope she had ridiculously built up.

And maybe it wasn’t the kiss itself that hurt so much but more the fact that Harry was now with someone else and it was real. It was so bloody real.  Just last week it was her and now he was kissing Cleo and had barely looked in her direction all night. And even though he technically hadn’t done anything wrong it still hurt and she was angry. Angry with him for kissing someone else, but mostly at herself for still wanting him. For wanting to walk right up and pull him away and take him home. She still wanted him despite everything, but she couldn’t have him.

So instead she had some tequila.

Except, tequila probably wasn’t the best company because in the wee hours of the night she regretted every single shot she had taken. The alcohol in her body made her stomach turn heavily and it was a miracle she even made it into a bathroom stall before it all came back up. Someone on the other side of the stall asked if she was okay but she could barely hear them over the loud buzzing in her ears and her own gagging.

It took her several minutes before she found the strength to get back up on her feet, brushing away the dirt from her jumpsuit, trying desperately not to think about all the germs she had most likely caught from resting so long against a public toilet seat.

As she exited the stall another girl looked over and she didn’t even try to pretend like she hadn’t just been throwing her guts up minutes ago. Instead, she splashed some cold water on her face and took a steady grip of the sink to keep herself standing up.

Fuck.

When she stumbled out of the bathroom a while later she had to lean against the walls to not fall over. The dim lighting in the club made it even harder for her to see where she was going and she kept bumping into bodies as she eventually made her way through the crowd.

Then all of a sudden someone grabbed her by the shoulders.

“Heeeey, party-girl, are you okay?”

The buzzing was still loud in her ears and her vision was blurry, but she still somehow managed to recognize the voice and the striking blonde hair. Isaac. As soon as she knew it wasn’t a complete stranger that had grabbed her she fell into him without a warning and he stumbled a little as he tried to catch her body. “Woah, steady on.”

She tried to talk to him. Tried to explain how she got to this point but no coherent words were coming out of her mouth and she had to use his whole body for support. He wrapped an arm around her and hoisted her up a little before taking a hold of her chin so he could get a good look of her face. She could tell that he was talking to her, his mouth was moving, but she had no idea what he was actually saying. It was too loud and she was too drunk. The club atmosphere made her stomach turn once more and all she wanted to do was to get out of there before she was sick all over again.

And somehow she managed to communicate that to Isaac.

The air was cool and refreshing when they finally made it out of the club and she was clinging onto Isaac as if her life depended on him. He had a strong arm wrapped around her as he pulled out his phone with his other hand to get an Uber. As they waited for it to show up Isaac slowly guided her over and sat her down on the curb next to the road. He crouched down in front of her and took a hold of her chin again. That’s when the first tears fell. She didn’t even try to hide it, once again too drunk and too sad to care if Isaac saw that she was crying.  His eyes widened as he noticed.

“Heey, noooo, no, don’t cry. What’s wrong?”

She didn’t know what to tell him. Everything was spinning too much to be able to think of what to say. The alcohol and emotions had taken over all of her senses and it was all just too much. There was only one explanation for her behavior tonight after all and how would she even begin to explain it to him? She had no idea. So all she said was

“Cleo.”

Isaac didn’t say anything in response but she was pretty sure he knew exactly what it meant when he reached out and squeezed her shoulder. Nothing more was said as they waited for the Uber to show up and the last thing she remembered was crying about not having the key for her house.

-

The next morning was arguably the worst morning of her life, which seemed quite fitting as she’d had the worst evening of her life the previous night. Most of the morning was spent on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor, head first down the toilet, regretting every single decision from last night.

This time though it was all her own fault. There was no one else to blame for all the shots she downed but herself.

It was embarrassing. So so embarrassing how drunk she got and how much Isaac had to take care of her. He had brought her back to his and Harry’s shared flat after they couldn’t find her key and realized she was locked out from her own home. She cried her eyes out in the Uber while Isaac tried to comfort her and when they got out she almost got vomit all over his new sneakers.

However, Isaac was nice about it all. He didn’t say anything and just helped her inside, put her down on the sofa, made sure she drank some water and covered her with a blanket. She couldn’t remember exactly what she told him but she knew she had talked about Harry and it was killing her.

But Isaac continued to be nice and he didn’t bring it up when he wandered in and said good morning.

“Y’alright?”

“I feel like death,” she confessed and her throat hurt a little from being sick all last night and earlier that morning.  Isaac chuckled lightly.

“Yeah, I can imagine.”

She bit the bottom of her lip and struggled to look at him where he sat on the armchair opposite the sofa she was spread out over. She had known him for as long as she had known Harry, but she had never actually been alone with him in a room and now when she was sober she felt so stupid, and also so incredibly self-conscious because she knew her make-up from last night was smudged all over her face and she had vomit on her jumpsuit and all over her hair. It was the lowest she’d ever been.

“So um,” she grumbled. “Thanks for last night, eh... yeah, I don’t know. I’m sorry for being a mess.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Isaac waved it off and smiled at her. “We’ve all been there.”

“Yeah, well, thank you anyway.” She still couldn’t look at him as she spoke. Because he knew. He knew her feelings for Harry had changed and she didn’t know how to act now.

“So much for never drinking again huh?” he joked lightly to ease the mood and she forced a laugh.

“Yeah, didn’t stick to that one, did I?”

Silence fell between them after that, but in some ways, it was a comfortable one. Isaac sat in his chair and scrolled through his phone as he drank his morning coffee while she just laid on the sofa and tried to collect her mind and emotions. He offered to make breakfast but there was just no way she was going to be able to stomach it. Water was pretty much all that her stomach allowed and she was barely holding onto that. It was early still and she could tell it was raining heavily outside as the raindrops drummed heavily against the windows. It was comfortable though. Pleasant even.

And then, out of nowhere, Cleo emerged from Harry’s bedroom and all the emotions from last night washed over her like a tsunami.

Plus, it felt like someone was playing a practical joke on her when she saw that Cleo was wearing Harry’s shirt from the night before.

“Good morning!” Cleo was as cheery as she was last night and looked even better. Issac nodded and greeted Cleo politely. To make things worse Cleo sat down in the other armchair and started a conversation. Time stopped as she watched Cleo and Isaac talk and it felt like someone suffocated her with one of the pillows. “Did you guys have a good night then?”

She couldn’t take her eyes off Cleo, who looked perfect even after a night out. Her hair was still flawless and her skin looked like it was glowing. It wasn’t ideal for anyone to see or be next to Cleo when they woke up after a chaotic night out and they themselves were covered in vomit. It honestly made her more nauseous than her hangover had all morning and she’d probably never felt as ugly as she did in that moment laying next to Cleo.

“It was decent, yeah,” Isaac said and then looked at her. His eyes filled with pity and she hated it. She hated it so much. “You?”

“It was super fun,” Cleo answered with a big smile. “Harry and I got in sooooo late though. We stopped to get some food down at that kebab place around the corner before we got in and I swear to God it was the best food I’ve had in my life! Thanks for letting me come out with you guys.”

And just like that, it was all too much. There was just no way she could sit there and talk to the girl who was dating the boy she had come to realize she liked more than just a friend. There was a lot she could do and put up with, but that wasn’t one of those things.

“Um, excuse me,” she mumbled as she got up from the sofa. Isaac called out her name but she ignored it. Her whole body ached and her head felt heavy. She had no idea how she was actually going to make it home in this state but she’d try her damn hardest, even if she was sick along the way it would be better than staying here.

Then she heard her name being called again.  

This time however it was from someone else.

Someone whose voice she’d recognize anywhere.

Harry.

“What are you doing here?” He looked at her with furrowed brows, clearly not expecting to see her.

“Oh, eh, hey,” she managed to croak out and fought back the urge to be sick all over again. “I came back with Isaac last night.”

“You uh, you came back with Isaac?” Harry asked slowly, his eyes never leaving her as a small line formed between his brows. He opened his mouth to say something else, but closed it just as fast. The silence that fell between them then was defeating.

“I mean, I wasn’t feeling very well so he helped me out a little.”

“Oh, okay,” he nodded and the corner of his mouth twisted into a small smile, but then it faltered just as fast. “Did something happen? Are you okay?”

“I’m okay.”  She knew she was being short with him and the look he gave her burned into her skin, but with tears threatening to fall at any moment it was a conversation she really didn’t want to have. Not with him. Not right now. “Look, Harry, I gotta go.”

“What?” he said and pushed himself off the door frame he leaned against, and as he came closer she took a step back. “You’re more than welcome to stay. It’s so early still and by the sounds of it it’s bucketing down outside. Stay for some breakfast. I was gonna make some pancakes.”

“I have to go.”

“Wait,” he called after her when she turned her back to him and got ready to leave. “Hey, wait a minute!”

She didn’t really care at that point though. Whatever thing she and Harry had was already gone and there was nothing that could make things worse than what they were now. She just wanted to get out and get as far away from him as fast as possible.

So she left without saying another word to Harry despite him calling her name.

- “Harry’s a fucking prick anyways,” Aliyah began and threw her hands up dramatically. “Like, is he just going to sleep with you one week and then replace you next week? No, fuck that. You deserve better.”

“He did tell me about it though,” she noted with a small sniffle and curled up further under her blanket. “I mean, he did tell me he was going on a date so it’s not like he lied or I don’t know... went behind my back.”

“Yeah, well, he’s still a prick,” Aliyah grumbled and slumped back against the sofa, arms crossed over her chest.

“Besides, we’re just friends, you know... ”

“You’re clearly more than just friends though,” Louisa added carefully with knowing eyes. “Like, I hate to break it to you but it’s pretty obvious you like him.”

“I... “ she trailed off not knowing how to respond to that. Because she knew she couldn’t keep denying it anymore. Not after showing up at her own house, drenched from the rain with red puffy eyes in last night’s clothes and without a key. No matter how scary it was to admit what she had buried inside her heart for so long it was impossible to deny it any longer. “Yeah. I do. I do like him.”

She let out a huge breath as she finally admitted it. It was strange, but also so right. The feelings she had for Harry was something she had buried inside for so long and it was freeing almost to now admit it out loud in front of her best friends.

“Maybe you should tell him that?” Beth suggested.

She almost laughed.

“That’s definitely not happening,” she shut down the suggestion straight away. There was no way she was telling him how she felt. Especially not now. “He obviously doesn't like me back, and besides he has Cleo now, and you know.. he’s like actually dating her and stuff so…”

“So what?” Beth cut in. “He might like you too. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

“Me?” she scoffed. “Yeah, I highly doubt that.”

Beth shrugged.

“I don’t know. I think he might do.”

“Yeah, well, it doesn’t matter anymore does it? He has Cleo now.”

“You won’t know unless you ask,” Louisa pointed out with a small twinkle in her eyes. Before she had the chance to object to the faulty statement the sound of the doorbell ringing echoed through the house.

“That’s probably the food,” Beth announced and stood up swiftly. “I’ll go get it.”

She gave Beth a small smile and wiped her wet cheeks with the ends of her blanket. As soon as she had left Harry’s flat earlier that morning she broke down in tears and called Louisa who offered to come to pick her up straight away but she declined, needing some time for herself before facing anyone.

But after showing up a mess, drenched from the rain in last night’s clothes after walking all the way home it was clear that she needed all her friends today. So Aliyah ran her a bath while Beth ordered food and Louisa went out for snacks and her favorite drink.

And she couldn’t be more grateful.

“Uhm,” Beth popped her head back in the living room and it was obvious by the look on Beth’s face that something was off. “It’s Harry.”

“W-what?”

For a moment she thought that maybe Beth was just taking the piss but judging by the confusion spreading across the room she quickly realized that wasn’t the case. “I don’t want to talk to him.”

“You sure?” Louisa asked. “This might be the perfect opportunity to talk things through.”

“No,” she shook her head quickly. “I can’t. Not now.”

“I’ll go talk to him!” Aliyah announced with fire in her eyes and leaped off the sofa in one go, only to have Beth stop her in the doorway.

“I think maybe I should talk to him,” she offered and looked at Aliyah with both her eyebrows raised knowingly. Aliyah only mumbled something under her breath but accepted Beth’s proposal and returned to her spot on the sofa without a fuss.

“You okay?” Louisa asked when Beth disappeared again to go talk to the boy who had her heart aching so badly. Louisa reached out to squeeze her knee gently when she didn’t respond. She just didn't know what to say; because she wasn’t okay. She was very much far from okay today.

Tears welled up in her eyes for the hundredth time and she shook her head and attempted to blink her tears away. She didn’t want to cry anymore. Louisa sighed and pulled her closer and wrapped her arms around her in a long hug. It was embarrassing really how much she had cried all day but she just couldn't stop. Never in a million years did she think she’d ever get so upset over a guy.

But it was Harry.

Harry who left jumpers out for her to wear after she stayed at his flat. Harry who made her breakfast in the morning and knew exactly how she liked her tea. Harry who made her laugh until she couldn’t breathe anymore. Harry who rubbed her back after a night out. Harry who let her steal all of the duvet in her sleep even though he was cold too. Harry who texted her stupid jokes just because he knew she liked them. Harry who also texted her cute pictures of puppies because she loved dogs. Harry who made her feel like no man ever had.

Harry who was now with Cleo.

Cleo who was absolutely perfect for him. Cleo who probably went thrift shopping with him and helped him find silly shirts with crazy prints and knew about all the bands he always talked about.

Cleo who was just so much better than her.

-

Harry Styles 8:27 AM Heeeyyy are you mad at me?

Harry Styles 10:12 AM Hello?

Harry Styles 10:46 AM Ok so mad then? will you pls talk to me? don’t like the way you stormed off earlier :/

Harry Styles 12:01 PM Hellloooooooo? pls talk to me

Harry Styles 12:30 PM Isaac told me you were quite upset last night... did something happen?  

Harry Styles 12:56 PM You’re making me a bit worried, did you make it home okay?

Harry Styles 1:15 PM I tried calling a few times but it’s not really coming through.. Are you okay?

Harry Styles 2:49 PM I'm coming over

Harry Styles 4:37 PM Beth said you weren’t feeling so well,  I hope you feel better soon, make sure you drink loads of water! .xx

Harry Styles 11:26 PM Ok sooo, i dunno whats going on. i dunno if Beth lied to me today or not... i just hope you're okay. you know you can talk to me if something is bothering you right?

Goodnight .xxx

-

PART 2 ♡

Let me know your thoughts. Thank you for reading! <3 

[amandaoftherosemire]

Hey Pretty

Fandom: Marvel AU

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader

Characters: Steve Rogers

Author: @amandarosemire

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 8,133

Format: One-shot

Warnings: Smut, 18+ only, sexting, language, masturbation (male and female), descriptions of explicit images, sexual intercourse, minor dom/sub dynamics if you squint.

Summary: Steve wakes up from dreaming about you while away on a mission. Sexting and smut ensue.

A/N: I spent most of August working on getting back into writing in between catastrophes. Why this manifested in a smutty, fluffy bit of Steve fic, I don’t know, but I’m not really worried about it. I am a little concerned that this gives away that my kink is people doing what I tell them, but I also imagine I’m not the only one who think it would be a lot of fun to tell Steve Rogers what to do.

I had this done a while ago but hadn’t found a moment to proofread and post it because I started a new job. Then my state’s seasonal wildfires went crazy thanks to record winds and everything fell apart again. Then it settled into a white-knuckled waiting game while we literally prayed for rain. Now that it’s pouring once again, I could sit down for five minutes to shine it up and post it. I hope y’all enjoy. :)

Texts from you in Bold.

Texts from Steve in Italics.

Hey Pretty

The air was close and thick, each breath in hot and slow as syrup. Every one of those humid breaths carried the warm seductive scent of sweat and sultry sex into his head, his mind, leaving him lost. The taste of salt and sweet on his mouth vied with the sensation of silken skin as his lips and hands slid over soft flesh, seeking both to feel and be felt.

Soft whimpers and low moans poured into his ear along with gentle, demanding whispers that set his brain and body ablaze. Every part of him yearned to fulfill every request, satisfy every need. All he wanted in return was to saturate his senses in the endless pool of desire into which he’d fallen.

When soft hands slid into his hair to clench and grip, his willpower broke. As he moved to give in, to let himself be taken over by desire, by pleasure, he woke gasping and hard enough to cut glass.

Staring at the ceiling of a motel room he shared with a friend and teammate, Steve focused on keeping his breathing slow and silent. He didn’t want to wake Sam, whose soft, even snores sounded from across the room. He valiantly tried to ignore the fact that it would take maybe three strokes of his hand to finish what dreaming of you had begun.

Folding his hands behind his head, he attempted to put the dream out of his mind by going over the mission he’d be running in a few short hours. He failed almost immediately, his imagination too detailed, his senses too keen, his memory too clear. You haunted him.

He could too easily recall the scent of your hair, the softness of your skin, the sweetness that he'd discovered lay just a little under the surface. He’d only needed to scratch a little to find it.

Steve gave up and rolled to his side to snatch up his phone. He’d typed out I miss you and hit send before he could think better of it. As soon as it was gone, he wished the words back, still anxious about showing too much vulnerability, not to mention breaking protocol by texting anyone while on this mission. Doing quick mental math to figure out what time it was back in New York, he waited, a little worried, for your answer.

You have literally no chill, Rogers. You’re lucky you’re so sexy.

Steve grinned at your response, his tension dissipating in the rush of electricity he always felt when you teased him, your warm humor lighting him up, the first of a thousand things he’d fallen for. Any contact with you, any reminder of you could rocket through him and make him shine. The smell of your perfume, the sound of your voice, your words on a screen, anything you did filled him up and steadied him, no matter how empty or fragile he felt.          

Hey, pretty. I miss you too btw.

His heart sighed when your second text came through. You were sharp and strong and since the moment you’d come striding into his life in combat boots and covered in attitude, he’d been riveted, unable to resist you. When you’d turned the sweet sunshine beneath the attitude on him, he’d been captivated, unable to refuse you.

I was dreaming of you. Woke up and needed you.

Steve stared at the message for a moment with his heart pounding. He'd gotten better at this kind of honesty, but it still terrified to step out on the ledge. He hit send before he could rethink it and then rewrite it until he sent nothing at all. You'd never yet made him regret telling you how he felt. He was starting to trust that you never would.

Must have been some dream to have you breaking radio silence during a mission. Good? I hope?

He grinned, practically able to hear your wry, seductive tones as he read your message. That sultry, smirking attitude had drawn him in from the beginning and had only wrapped him more and more tightly the more time he spent with you. By the time he’d worked up the nerve to ask you out, he’d already fallen half in love with that alone.

Us. The night before I left.

His heart sped a little more at the images flashing across his mind. A mixture of the heated imaginings of his unconscious mind and the memories of the one and only night he’d spent with you had his skin running with heat even as the erection that refused to abate hardened almost painfully.

Ahhhhhh. I love it. Tell me everything.

Steve stifled a laugh at your answer. He’d swear he’d never met anyone like you. Tough and terrifyingly efficient during business hours, he’d never imagined the hidden depths he would find as you'd slowly let him in. Under that fierce exterior, he'd first found a warm and generous humor, then a soft and generous heart. He'd most recently been delighted to discover an avowed and generous hedonist in your bed.

I shouldn’t. I’m sharing a room with Sam.

He felt a brief twinge of regret, wondering what you'd have said or done if he'd told you about his dream, if he'd been alone and free to do so. The full intimacy that had just blossomed between you had followed an intense courtship where he'd learned how diabolically patient you could be. He'd long since discovered your ability to drive him wild from a distance.

You’re so fucking adorable. I bet you could get some privacy in the bathroom.

Heart kicking, Steve immediately moved to get out of the bed. Whatever you had in mind, he knew he needed privacy to deal with it. Not that he wasn't certain he'd like it. He always enjoyed letting you have your way with him, no matter the situation. Tapping out a quick reply, he moved as silently as he could to the bathroom.

Do I need privacy?

Shutting and locking the door behind him, he waited for your answer with bated breath.

For what happens next, yes.

Steve dropped down onto the closed lid of the toilet when his knees went weak. Anticipation had his heart already pounding in his ears.

Okay. I’m in the bathroom. What happens next?

His mind raced with possibilities as his skin ran hot. He’d learned from experience that you could always surprise him, especially with the creative turns your mind could take. He’d long since given himself into your hands with no regrets.

Turn the shower on cold.

At least, he’d had no regrets until now. Steve frowned at his phone but stood to comply with the command even as he hoped you weren’t about to send him into a cold shower. You had a wicked sense of humor so he wouldn't put it past you to be having fun with him.

Unless you want Sam to hear you.

Steve grinned, relieved and yet edgy, and shivered in anticipation. He could almost feel your breath on his neck, could almost hear the sultry undercurrent to your voice. He loved it when you had fun with him like this, was happy to take your orders, especially when those orders took on this tone.

At the end of your first date, you’d seen through him to the twitchy anxiety he'd been poorly hiding. Instead of the disdain he'd feared, you'd responded by taking his face in your hands to kiss him for the first time. That sweet first kiss had spun out when he’d forgotten his anxiety in the gentle press of your lips against his. He’d fallen completely under your spell when you’d whispered against his mouth, “Why don’t I tell you what I want, Steve, so you don’t tie yourself in knots trying to figure it out?” The relief he'd felt at the mere thought had allowed him to kiss you properly the second time.

Since that day, you'd made good on that offer in a thousand ways, leading him on a tempestuous journey of affection and fun with an honesty so sweet and hot that it left him putty in your hands. All you’d asked in return was that he be equally honest about what he felt, what he wanted.

Done.

Hands shaking a little, he kept his eyes on his phone as he waited for the next step. He was certain now you were about to lead him on an adventure. Though he knew he shouldn't follow, knew he could tell you he wasn't comfortable and you'd easily segue into something light and probably funny, he also knew he wasn't going to stop this. He'd told you he'd woken needing you; he wasn't surprised that you'd offer to give him what he needed.

Have a seat. ;)

The winking smiley face was your way of letting him know you were fully up to no good and if he wanted out now, he should speak up. He adored how careful you were to make sure he was fully on board with whatever you wanted to do. You took care with him but wrapped it in a warm humor that was almost as seductive as the tenderness underneath.

Now take that pretty cock out and wrap your hand around it.

Steve was grateful you'd told him to sit down as his knees turned to water in the rush of lust that blew through him. The hand not holding his phone moved to obey even as he let out a shuddering breath of reaction. Knowing he had to be quiet or risk embarrassing himself made his heart race in either anxiety or excitement, he wasn’t ever really sure when you tempted him out onto ledges like this. His chest tightened, his breath choking in his lungs, making him feel like he was on the verge of an asthma attack, if he still had those.

But every other time he'd followed you into this sensation, he'd found nothing but pleasure and passion on the other side. He wasn't going to back out now. As he pushed his underwear down his other hand tapped out a quick reply.

Yes, ma'am.

Steve's brain offered up the image of your slow, wicked smile whenever he gave in to your demands and his desires. He loved that his obedience to your commands brought you as much excitement as it did him. He loved knowing he could please you, loved that you never left him in doubt as to how.

You're so pretty. Does it feel good?

God

Yes

Steve didn't move, his hand wrapped around his cock but not stroking, not yet. Not until you told him to start.

Mmm. What were we doing in your dream the moment you woke up?

That 'mmm' stood in for the sultry laugh that came out of you whenever you were deliberately teasing him. The thought of that tease, that laugh had his dick twitching in his hand. You knew he adored the slow build, had taken your time working him up to the night he'd spent with you right before leaving on this mission. He'd loved every minute of it, thoroughly enjoyed the odd paradox of frustration mounting through repeated satisfaction. Making love to you, at last, had been glorious.

His breathing already ragged, the memory of that night in the soft romance of his dream drifted across his mind's eye. You'd been sweeter that night than he'd ever known possible, tender in your demands, gentle in your requests. A night unlike any other in his experience, he'd never expected the dark and debauched to be so bright and beautiful.

I was sliding inside you for the first time. I could have cried when I woke up.

Muscles quivering with the effort to stay still, Steve waited. He wasn't disappointed.

Pretty. Are you as hard now as you were then?

Almost

Oh, I wanna see. Would you take a picture? Send it to me?

Steve bit his lip to stifle the moan that wanted to lift out of him. He was more certain now that it was excitement, not fear, but he felt a prickle of anxiety run up his spine, nonetheless. Not only was he naturally shy, he was uncomfortably famous. He examined how he felt, and decided quickly, typing his response and hitting send just as a text from you came through.

Yes ma'am.

I'll go first, sweetie.

Steve quite simply melted. He adored the strong and sarcastic, but he had no defense against the sweet and kind. The way you’d asked combined with the endearment you only used when you were being particularly tender eased every fear, every worry. Still feeling shy, he nonetheless lifted the phone to snap a picture of his achingly hard cock in his still motionless fist.

As he was preparing to send it, however, your picture came through. He whimpered at the sight of you on his screen, pink and glistening. His hand reflexively tightened, and he started to moan aloud before he remembered himself. His cock hardened to the point of pain as he locked his muscles, resisting the urge to move his hand for a little relief.

Panting, he snapped another picture, knowing you’d love to see what the image of your fingers sliding over and through and into your pretty cunt did to him. He’d already been flushed and on the edge. Looking at you, remembering how you’d felt moving under his hands only intensified the sensation of aching need and the red heat that suffused his skin. He sent you both pictures with a text that read, How do you do this to me?

Mmm. Did my picture get you that excited?

God yes

You’re killing me doll

Me too sweetie. So fucking hot. Go ahead and start sliding your hand up and down that gorgeous cock of yours, pretty.

Steve shuddered in relief as he slowly began to move his hand, though the way you spoke to him had his stomach muscles tightening with lust. He bit his lip to hold back the moan of pleasure, the sensation made more intense by the wait. His eyes fixed on the picture you’d sent, he imagined replacing your fingers with his own.

I like that you were dreaming of me. I loved taking you. Being taken by you.

Another groan tried to escape as Steve tried to type despite the pleasure running over his skin. His hand moved faster as wetness spread over the head of his cock and eased the motion.

God me too. It was so good. I’ve dreamt of you every night this week.

"Oh, fuck!" Steve whispered the words in a voice tight with lust as his hand began to speed. You'd sent him another picture and the sight was more than he could stand. The photo was taken from the same vantage point he'd have if he was about to use his mouth on you, the memory of which had him thrusting mindlessly. The smooth columns of your thighs framed your pleasure as you arched under your own hands. Your body was bared and beautiful and your eyes glowed with power and promise. Slick and wet, his hand moved more quickly over his cock as memories of you over him, under him seared his mind.

Do you want to do filthy things to me, pretty?

Steve's mind exploded with possibilities and immediately triggered the climax he'd been trying to hold back. Reliving the glory of being inside you, of making you cry out in ecstasy, he came with a soft groan, shuddering as he coaxed every last quake of pleasure from his body. Panting and boneless, he lay in awe of your ability to wreck him even when you weren't there.

His hand shaking slightly, he tapped out the first thing that came into his head.

And you call me pretty. You’re so beautiful. I couldn’t hold back.

Too heavy for his neck, Steve let his head fall back, resting it against the wall behind him as he tried to catch his breath. He found himself once again awed and baffled by your ability to tempt him so easily into situations that he couldn't have even imagined before he met you.

Mmm. Are you a mess? Show me?

Blushing rosy red against the creamy skin of his face, neck, and chest, he lifted his phone to take another picture. Angling the camera to capture both his naked body and his shy smile, he snapped a photo he knew would make you crazy. You loved to see what you did to him, loved to see him sated, soaked in pleasure. When you went to such sweet effort to bring him to this point, he couldn't see how it was fair to deny you the evidence.

So sexy. I love it. I’m so close. Tell me about your dream

Steve smiled at your response, gratified by the knowledge that he could drive you as wild as you drove him. He wondered if you were making the little whimpers in your throat yet. He could always tell when you were about to let go, when he'd pushed you up and over the edge.

I was touching you. Sliding my hands all over you. You’re so soft.

Not sure how to continue, Steve hit send. The dream had been nothing but sensation, hot breath and slick skin. He paused a moment, considering the best way to describe for you the images his subconscious had conjured. As he weighed his words, a picture of you came through.

Tousled and smiling, your face had taken on that particular softness his perfect eyesight had memorized in recent weeks. Saturated in pleasure, your face only looked this sweetly relaxed after you were satisfied.

Mmm. Pretty. You fuck me so good, baby.

Steve laughed softly, exhilarated if a little shocked at how easily he always let you lead him into temptation, let you take over. Other attempts at relationships since he'd come out of the ice had always ultimately failed when he couldn't relax enough to be himself. But being with you was as easy as breathing, in no small part because you so confidently took command.

Looking down at himself, he shook his head at the mess you'd once again made of him.

How do you do this to me?

Standing up, Steve set his phone on the counter and glanced at the washcloth hanging on the towel bar. He figured he'd need a shower before he started the day anyway and it was close enough to dawn that he was done with sleep for now. When your message came through, he smiled at your unrelenting sweetness.

You let me. Don’t forget to turn the hot water on before you get in that shower.

Except I might still need to cool off.

Can’t argue with that. Go get the bad guys, then get your ass back to me.

Yes, ma’am.

Your heart kicked into high gear when you heard that the quinjet had touched down.

Steve was home.

Steve, with his serious eyes and hands so gentle it almost ached where he touched, would soon be walking through your office door for debriefing. And you were expected to cope with that.

Steve Rogers, a man with a heart as good as it was wild, was enchanted with you. The very idea was still largely inexplicable to you. You'd never been the sort to argue with a good thing, however, and you certainly weren't going to start now. What mattered was that you were making each other happy, that he was as sweet as he was sexy and you clicked in a way that you'd never expected but for which you were profoundly grateful.

That didn't mean that you knew how to handle it.

The whole thing had started so innocently, lunchtime walks over the grounds of the compound. Steve had started coming by your office in the middle of the day, his excuse that he wanted to make sure you weren’t chained to your desk, get you moving. You’d thought he was simply being himself, kind and caring and a little overly conscientious.

Over the course of those walks, however, you’d become friends, and dear friends, but you’d never expected anything more. He was so careful, so guarded, you'd never realized that you were seducing him with your playful teasing and genuine interest in the man behind the shield. When, after a couple of months of those daily walks, he’d asked you to dinner with the dread of rejection sick in his smile, you’d been completely shocked.

You didn’t know it, but your complete surprise at his invitation had been utterly unexpected; Steve had thought himself painfully obvious in his crush. Your astonishment, followed by a slow, delighted grin spreading across your face, had made Steve’s heart jump in anticipation. Your reply, voice full of fun and mischief, "Steven, I would love to have dinner with you; I like a pretty view while I eat," had made him blush and smile in a way that had made your heart pound like a drum.

That first date had been wonderful, an extension of those daily walks but with a new dimension revealed by the change in your relationship. You were flirting with purpose now, not simply to tease a friend. He was so adorable, you couldn't resist, his blushing, gratified smiles too tempting.

When he'd walked you to your door, the sick dread was back in his smile and you'd had an epiphany. Making the first move was agony for someone like Steve. Having to put his true self on the line to be accepted or rejected at the whim of another was a nightmare for him. You could see he was terrified of the moment he'd have to lean in to kiss you good night, dreading the possibility that you might turn him away.

As you reached your door, you'd turned to him with a sultry smile and slid your hands up and over his gorgeous chest, something you'd been fantasizing about for a while, until you had his pretty face in your hands. You'd pulled his face to yours and pressed soft, warm lips to his, kissing him firmly, but gently.

"Why don’t I tell you what I want, Steve, so you don’t tie yourself in knots trying to figure it out?”

The breath of relief he'd huffed out would have made you laugh if your mouth hadn't immediately been taken in the hottest, sweetest tangle of lips and teeth and tongue you'd ever experienced. His arms had come around you to cradle you against his body like you were delicate and precious and in that moment you felt it, certain you were already in over your head with Steve Rogers.

"I'd love that, doll," he'd whispered in return when the kiss finally broke, his breath ragged. "What do you want?"

You'd chuckled darkly at that, your body humming and blood rushing with lust. "I want to take you inside and have my wicked way with you," you'd brushed your fingertips over the nape of his neck and made him tremble, "but I think we should take it slow, take our time. So, I'll take another kiss like the last to keep me warm for now."

“Yes, ma’am.”

The smile that spread across his face right before his lips met yours told you that you'd made the right call. Steve was the sort that moved at a slower pace, needed room to feel. Over the next couple of months, you'd given him that space as you slowly deepened the intimacy between you, learning what he liked, teaching him what you liked. With only a little patience, he’d proven eager to learn and innately adept at the study.

As you’d become more physically familiar, you’d also explored the added emotional dimension to your relationship, the vulnerability that comes when you allow a friend to become something more. Not that you’d had reason to regret that decision yet, Steve having also proven a sweet and attentive boyfriend.

By the time you'd come together, you'd found a number of creative ways to satisfy both of you while still building the anticipation. The wait had ensured that you were physically comfortable with one another before you’d gotten to that last glorious night together.

You’d deliberately chosen a night before he left for a mission to invite him to stay, to make love with you and wake in your bed. You’d been unable to wait any longer, the desperate need too much to hold back, but you'd also wanted to keep the edge of his desire for you well honed. You hadn't considered what the enforced separation after such a night would do to you, too. When he’d broken radio silence to text you during a mission, you’d been both moved and gratified, but you'd also needed him with an ache you'd never known before. You'd been unable to stop yourself from using the opportunity to take the edge off.

You'd also been exasperated, radio silence had been placed on the mission for a reason, but that was professional.

No harm had come of it, but it was still a breach in protocol.

You looked up when Steve knocked on the door as he opened it, poking his head into your office, as had become his habit over the previous months. “Come on in, Cap," you said with a slow, warm smile. "Have a seat."

"Yes, ma'am." His eyes were hot as he settled into the chair on the other side of your desk. The words sent a shiver of lust up your spine and over your scalp when coupled with the sweet appreciative grin that lit up his face. You had to be ever vigilant lest you get lost in his ocean eyes. The man was unfairly pretty, hence the pet name.

The debriefing went quickly as the mission had gone mostly to plan. What few deviations had occurred were in minor variables and were easily documented. Steve didn't have anything to add to what you'd heard from Sam and Natasha, but you believed in being thorough. Once you heard it once more from Steve, you pushed all of it aside without a twinge of guilt. 

Before you moved on entirely, however, you fixed him with a gimlet stare. "I'm surprised I have to remind you of this, Captain, but radio silence was put on this mission for a reason." One eyebrow and the corner of your mouth lifted as he grinned at you.

"That takes care of business." You got to your feet and rounded your desk to cross to the door, flipping the lock as your heart started to race. "Now," you went on in a purr as you circled back around to slide into Steve's lap. Heart singing, you pressed your lips to his in a soft kiss. "Hey, pretty."

Steve was in heaven. He wrapped his arms around you to press you close and reveled in the feel of your body against his. Dimly, in a far-off corner of his mind, he wondered if he should be concerned by his tendency to get lost in you, the ease and speed with which you enthralled him. But you were nuzzling your mouth across his cheeks and mouth, seducing him all over again with sweetness, and he couldn't find it in him to care. "Hey, babydoll," he sighed happily as his eyes fluttered closed.

"So ya missed me, huh?"

Steve smiled at your playful tones but kept his eyes closed as he basked in the feeling of your mouth against his skin, of being adored by you. How could he not miss you when you made him feel this way? His voice a sigh, the sound made you tremble deep inside. "I did."

"I like that." Your voice throbbed with an emotion you weren't ready to name but knew you'd have to deal with soon. Steve seemed to hear it, as his eyes opened to see your face, his eyebrows quirking in question. Your smile twisted wryly as you shrugged a little. "I like being missed."

Steve's pretty face melted into a smile rich with affection as one of his big hands slid up your back, his warm palm between your shoulder blades and pressing you into his chest. His lips as soft as his touch, he kissed you with the same tenderness he'd shown you from the start, the same tenderness that had seduced you before you'd realized it was happening. You didn't know what he'd seen in your face to make him kiss you like this, but you weren't going to argue.

Your breathing ragged and your throat thick with that nameless, dangerous emotion, you broke the kiss to bury your face in the crook of his neck, brushing your lips over the soft skin under his ear. "I missed you too, sweetie," you whispered, your breath wafting across his ear and making him shiver agreeably. You could feel it, and it made you needy, made your voice turn husky with that need. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about those pictures you sent me."

Steve stretched his neck to give you better access, the sensation of your mouth on his skin a temptation he couldn't resist. Simply being in the same room with you was intoxicating; he’d already been hard as steel by the time you'd slid into his lap. Your touch, your voice, your scent, everything about you set him aflame. "You didn't keep them?"

"I told you; I'm the jealous type." You lifted your head to nip at his lips with a wicked smirk and eyes that burned. "I couldn't risk anyone else seeing them. Only way to be sure was to delete them."

The hand that had been squeezing your hip came up to cup your face when every part of him softened in adoration, appreciation. He wasn't the least surprised to find that you'd acted to protect him, but he was still deeply grateful. "I deleted yours, too." His mouth twisted when your eyebrow raised in mock suspicion. "Didn't want them falling into the wrong hands. Damn near broke my heart to do it, but…"

When he trailed off with a shrug, you tilted your head back and laughed out at the twinkle in his eye behind his look of broken-hearted regret. You combed your fingers through his hair, fisting your hands there and tilting his head back to smile affectionately into his gorgeous face. "I'll send you more, you pretty thing."

When his grin flashed, cheerful and sweet, you couldn't resist his plump, pink lips any longer. You took his mouth with yours, kissing him deeply, with heat. With purpose.

Gasping breaths inward escaped as panting moans as your mouths pressed and tangled together. You shamelessly rubbed your breasts against his chest as your hands began to skim over the muscles of his shoulders and arms. Your tongue curled around his as you encouraged him with your mouth and body to touch you more, kiss you harder.

Steve cradled you in his lap as gently as he could while still pressing you close, holding you tight. He knew his strength, tried to be mindful of it out of concern that he might hurt or scare you. Sometimes he thought he gripped too tightly, his mind so easily muddled by you, but you never complained.

In fact, sometimes you straight up ordered him to stop treating you as though you were as delicate as he knew you to be and touch you already. Sometimes, like today, you showed him your impatience physically, pulling at his clothes and arching into his hands. When you tore your mouth from his to scramble to your feet, he was confused for half a second before you were pulling him up with you.

"Doll," he breathed, his heart running away with him as you backed into your desk and boosted yourself up onto it, "I'm falling hard for you." You wrapped your legs around his hips as you fisted your hands in his shirt to drag him close. "I don't know if you want serious, but I can't help it."

Steve thought he'd just made a colossal mistake when your movements slowed and your eyes lifted to his, your face a study in consternation. His heart started beating again when your face softened into a smile and then a laugh as you lifted your hands from his belt to his face.

"I'm trying to fuck and you're trying to talk about our relationship." You pulled his mouth to yours and kissed him softly, sweetly, utterly charmed. "Steve," you crooned as you smoothed your thumbs over his cheeks, "my sweetheart." You huffed out a shaky laugh, the vulnerability of the moment hitting you all at once. Your mouth twisted with wry affection as your eyes searched his worried face. You went on, your voice an aching sigh. "I don't want you to help it. I don't know how to do serious, but I'm starting to think I'd do anything for you."

Steve felt the muscles in the back of his neck relax. On a sigh of relief, he rested his forehead against yours as the hands at your waist slid around your back to hold you close. He had known you wouldn't make him regret telling you the truth about his feelings, but he'd barely hoped that you would reciprocate them. He'd never anticipated that anyone could make him feel the way you did and was gratified to the bone that he could make you feel the same.

Arms wrapped around your back, one hand squeezing your hip, the other cupped around the nape of your neck, Steve kissed you. Slow, and gentle, he coaxed your lips apart like a man with nothing but time. His mouth brushed and clung to yours with a diabolical kind of tenderness as his body pressed more firmly against yours. Eyes bright and warm, he broke the kiss to smile and whisper, mild concern and confusion chasing one another across his face. "I know the feeling."

The relentless honesty that characterized Steve could be its own kind of trouble. He was in so many ways an open book, it made it easy for you to see the struggle he sometimes had with his emotions. On the other hand, you had only to pay attention to know what he was thinking and feeling. Steve, and everything he was, made you feel safe and secure in a way no one ever had before.

"Oh, baby, don't worry," you murmured, linking your wrists behind his neck and nuzzling at his mouth. "I'm as flustered by this as you are. I know you can't believe the things you'll do if I ask it," your voice dropped to a rasp as your thighs tightened around his hips, "because I can't believe it either." You shrugged, and you let him see how he dazzled you in your smile. "I talk a big game, but every day I'm stunned all over again that you like it. That you like me."

"You are so fucking sweet." Steve's voice was rich with wonder as he spoke. His eyes burned as he huffed out a laugh of astonished joy and his head dipped to yours. No longer slow and gentle, he kissed you with an urgent passion that you soaked up and returned with abandon. When his hand slipped from your hip to squeeze your ass and his lips grew hungrier on yours, you chuckled in your throat and let your hands drop back to his belt where you went back to unfastening it.

Steve couldn't stop the laughter that bubbled up at the sound of your dark glee and the feel of your hands teasing the erection behind his zipper. He lifted his head just enough to look into your face, the warm affection in his so pretty it made your throat ache. Your eyes fluttered closed as his lips brushed over your cheeks, but your hands went back to work on getting into his pants. He started chuckling, but that quickly turned into a low moan when your hands slipped under the waistband of his underwear to push them down. "I don’t just like you, doll."

“Good.” You replied with a nip at his lower lip as you closed your hand around an impressive erection. “Because I’m just crazy about you.”

Your smile as you caressed him was like nothing he’d ever seen before. Starting bright and happy, Steve was awestruck by the way your whole face seemed to shine with joy. In the next moment, your smile was melting into a look so hungry his cock hardened even more and his hips gave an involuntary thrust into your hands.

The sensation had you grinning recklessly as you twisted your hand around his length and made him groan. You lifted one hand to cup the nape of his neck to pull him forward for a kiss as his breathing sped in excitement. "Steven, I wore a skirt for a reason," you purred against his mouth and felt powerful as a goddess when his hands immediately left your hips to fumble at the long peasant skirt you'd worn. The feeling of his hips stuttering slightly as those hands closed around your thighs made you feel irresistibly sexy as well.

Being with Steve made you feel adored.

His mouth drank from yours with ever more urgency, even as he gripped your thighs more tightly and spread your legs to pull you closer. You encouraged him with murmurs of approval and gentle, teasing touches designed to inflame. His long fingers squeezed the flesh of your ass and legs as his body bent to yours, over yours. His thumbs caressing the insides of your thighs made you feel like you were going to fly apart and had your arm sliding around his neck to bring your body flush with his.

Steve tore his mouth from yours to gasp for breath. He buried his face in the crook where your shoulder met your neck and panted in excitement, in pleasure, the tremble of his lips against your skin sending shivers through you. "Babydoll," he whispered, the taste of you going to his head and muddling his mind, "I can't stop thinking about being inside you."

His thumbs had reached the apex of your legs and were brushing lightly over the soft skin he'd found there. His breathing was as ragged as yours, shuddering gasps of reaction mingled with moaning sighs of pleasure as the two of you touched one another. "Is this okay?" he asked gently, lifting his head to look into your face as one of his long, beautiful fingers slipped between your folds to tease at your entrance, to feel your wetness.

"God, yes," you moaned and made him smile. You were dazzled by the feel of him between your thighs, the sight of him flushed with his excitement and shuddering with need in your hands. When his thumb pressed you open and he circled your clit with the pad of his finger, your hips jerked forward in response, the sweet sensation of him gently caressing you so intimately overwhelming in its intensity.

Steve's hand slid down and he pressed into you with a soft groan of reverence, of hunger. You tilted your hips to allow him easier access, your head falling backward on your neck as you gasped with pleasure at the rasping sensation of one long, finger stretching you open. Your thighs tightened around his hips and your hand around his cock as you shuddered out a moan that made him crazy.

His mouth moved over your neck in desperate open-mouthed kisses as he reveled in the feeling of your wetness covering his hand. He loved feeling the proof of your desire for him. He loved that he'd brought you to this point, clutching at his shoulders and sobbing his name. He loved that you could so easily bring him to this point, panting with need and ready to beg. When your hand smoothed over his erection with a twisting motion and your lips at his ear whispered, "Play later, pretty. Inside me now," he could have promised you the moon.

He ever so slowly withdrew his hand from where he'd been pumping his finger slowly, gently in and out of your soaking pussy, dragging his fingertips over your clit as he went. The sensation was exquisite, prompting another gasping moan from you and making you fumble as you let go of his cock to bunch your skirt in your fist. You pulled it up and out of the way so you could see where you connected, wanted to watch him slide inside you. You wanted to imprint forever on your memory the image of Steve Rogers making love to you.

Tight t-shirt rucked up over a perfect stomach, belt and pants undone and pushed down below his ass with his underwear to reveal him flushed and shiny wet with anticipation. His hands, big and beautiful, gently held your thighs apart as his fingers pressed with just enough force into your muscles. The sight, along with that of his cock, hard as steel and pressing slowly into you, had your body clenching in need and your mouth running away with you as you rasped, "So pretty."

Steve flushed with the praise. As he eased into you, he marveled that his memory hadn't done you justice. He'd thought he remembered how good you felt wrapped around his cock, thought he'd remembered the ecstasy of the moment when he rested buried to the hilt, but he hadn't even been close. Once there, his hands left your thighs where they were wrapped around his hips. Skimming up over your waist, he took you gently in his arms, one palm on your lower back, one between your shoulder blades. Gasping for breath and grasping for control, he rested his forehead against yours and shuddered with restrained greed.

You wrapped your arms around the barrel of his chest and nuzzled under the collar of his t-shirt to brush your mouth across his perfect collarbones. Murmuring words intended to incite, you breathed adoration into his skin. "Sweet pretty Steve." You tilted your head back to look into his face. "You feel so good."  

The sight of your face, warm and soft with passion as you almost whimpered the words took Steve's breath away. Unable to help himself, his head dipped to kiss you as his arms tightened, his hands grasping you close as he started to tentatively thrust into you. You kissed him back, your hands avid as they clutched at his back and hips to encourage him to move faster, thrust harder.

You loved that Steve was as close to out of control as you'd ever seen him, loved that he was lost in you enough to move instinctively. He was still following your lead, but he wasn't thinking anymore, was letting his body rule. His hand slid down to close around your thigh to hike it higher, using the leverage to pull you onto him more forcefully. A happy squeal muffled by his mouth expressed your approval, as did the arms you wrapped around his neck to pull yourself more tightly against him.

Though Steve would have at least tried to go slow, you weren’t having it. You’d twined around him like a vine and were using your grip to rock your hips to his in abandon. The uncomplicated affection on your lips and the desperate need in your sighs of pleasure came together on his tongue to seep into his mind and send him reeling. Unable to stop himself, he gripped your thighs and ass to tilt you to the perfect angle for his relentlessly pounding hips and gave in. Groaning in his throat, he let your genuine passion wipe his mind clean of everything but you.

Steve's fingers were digging into your flesh with just enough pressure to feel delicious. His mouth was avid on yours and so sweet you had to tear yourself away to drag in a breath. You released that breath on a shuddering moan when he immediately buried his face in your throat to taste the skin over your pulse under your jaw. Your hands clenched in his hair and you rocked your hips harder and faster into his, chasing your climax. Steve was a perfect fit; you were fully enthralled with the sensation of his cock gliding into you, rasping out.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes," you chanted, each more frantic than the last, as the rhythmic slam of his hips against yours built you swiftly and steadily to peak. Hearing that you were nearing your climax, Steve lifted his head from where it was buried in your cleavage and pressing open mouthed kisses to the curves of your breasts. He loved to watch your expression while you came, loved to see you taken over by rapture, especially of his making. When you shuddered out, "Fuck me, baby," he knew you were close.

Steve's grin flashed and he started to thrust harder and faster into you, shaking your desk enough to knock a few things to the floor. The sound of soft thumps as a stapler fell to the carpet and pens scattered made you laugh. The thought that it was Steve Rogers you were fucking on your desk in the middle of the day met the joy of the moment and pushed you happily to the edge where need met satisfaction.

Pretty, sweet, reckless Steve with his bashful smiles and sad soldier’s eyes was building you to peak with ever more force and speed, about to send you tipping over that edge with flashing hips and a whimpering moan. You tilted your head forward on your neck to look into Steve's smiling, blushing face, his flashing eyes. With a sighed, "Pretty," you smiled as you let go and fell into rapture.

At the same time you spoke, Steve could feel the beginning of your orgasm fluttering and squeezing around him. His hands tightened around your thigh, your ass as he shook with pleasure at the sensation. The feel of you in his arms, clutching at him in ecstasy pushed him to the edge of his control. The sight of your eyes, glowing with pleasure both given and received, sent him tumbling over.

The beautiful groan Steve released as his head dropped to your shoulder made you tighten around him in every way. You gave in happily to the overwhelming urge to hold him close as he came inside you with stuttering hips and shaking limbs. Twining around him, you basked in the scent, the taste, the feel of him as you dragged him into the same spell that held you.

Everything about you softened like wax when he turned his face into your neck and nuzzled in with a sigh of contentment. He was holding you against him with that astonishing tenderness he possessed, cradling you in his arms like you were something infinitely delicate, infinitely precious. The sensation never failed to turn you to mush.

You combed your fingers through his hair and rubbed your cheek against his temple, holding him with the same tenderness he showed you, something he found utterly beguiling. He brushed his mouth over the soft skin of your throat and murmured in appreciation, "How do you do this to me?"

You couldn't help but love how that question had changed over time. At first, he had asked with concern vying with bafflement, but he'd come to ask with warmth, humor, affection. The answer had changed, too, from curiosity to pleasure to something more, something neither of you knew how to name. Not yet.

"I ask nicely," you replied with a smirk.

Steve burst out laughing and lifted his head to grin at you. You had a look on your face of such infinite tenderness, such warm wonder that his heart jumped and jumped in response to an emotion he wasn't sure how to describe, or if he was ready yet to do so. He pushed it aside, gloriously and willingly lost in you. "That would do it," he admitted with his heart in his eyes.

"In that case," you leaned forward to kiss first one side of his mouth, "would you like to come over for dinner," then the other, "stay the night?" Your eyelids dipped with a hint of shyness and made Steve's romantic heart yearn, inspired that still nameless emotion. "I really liked waking up next to you."

His eyes lit up in a way you'd never seen before; his smile was bright and joyous and made you want to promise him the world. Warm and affectionate, his expression held everything you could want as he replied, his voice low and full of fun. "Yes, ma'am."

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[fandom-collective-writers]

Title: A Smutty Fanfic

Pairing: Levi x Reader

Fandom: Obey Me!

Genre: Smut

Written by @rikumorimachisgirl

Word count: 1,500

Disclaimer: I do not own Obey Me or its characters, but this story was wholly my idea.

A/N: This is my very first Obey Me fic. I hope you like it.

This was the worst! 

You skimmed through the half-filled Doodle Note on your DDD and sighed. The fic you were writing was due in two days, and you were nowhere near completing it. 

Maybe I should just quit, you thought to yourself with another long sigh. After all, I've never written something like this before.

"Oi! I can't focus on my game with all that sighing in the background!" 

You tore your gaze away from your phone and looked at the purple-haired demon, who was glaring at you from where he was seated at the bottom of his bed. In the past three months that you've been living as an exchange student in Devildom, you've grown fond of all your housemates at the House of Lamentation - especially Levi.

Tonight, you hung out in his room like always, tinkering with your DDD while watching him play. Only, your mind was elsewhere and he didn't seem to like it.

"Oops! Sorry, " you said, flustered. "I can leave the room -"

"That's not what I meant." With the game controller still in his hand, he plopped onto his bed just a bit short of where you were seated and looked at you curiously. "Are you bored? I asked you earlier if you wanted to play 'Tour of Duty', but you didn't want to."

"It's not that."

"Then what's the problem?" 

"It's nothing, " you dismissed, hiding your DDD away. "Anyway, shouldn't you be playing?"

"Hmm, I don't know. I think I'm more interested to find out what's gotten you in a bind, " he said before tossing the controller to one side. "So what's up?"

"I told you, it's no biggie, " you insisted. As you struggled to come up with an excuse, he caught your wrist and pried the DDD from your hand. "Hey!" 

"Oho! You're keeping secrets from me now? You don't get to do that, normie. After all, I am your senpai, " he said with a suppressed laugh as he scanned through your notes with one hand while keeping you at bay with the other. 

"Give that back, Levi!"

"Let's see… 'Go on, Davin. I won't stop you.', " he started reading out loud, much to your horror. 

He was reading it - your sorry attempt at writing a fanfic! "Stop it, " you cried out, as you dove to retrieve your DDD and what little dignity you had left.

"You're writing a fic about your Doctor Love bias! I'll read some more. He kissed her non-stop as he laid her on the bed. After what seemed like forever, he stripped her off her clothes and climbed on top of her…" 

You shut your eyes as he continued to read what you'd written, silently wishing that Diavolo would magically appear and zap you back to the human world. You were so wrapped up in your wishes, you failed to notice that the room had become dead silent and that Levi was handing you back your phone. 

"Don't laugh, " you nearly growled at him as you snatched your DDD back. 

"I couldn't if I wanted, " he replied. "That… that's a smutty fanfic you're writing. I didn't know you were into those…"

"Asmo made me do it! He made me join his Post-Valentine's Day event -"

"Lust Fest?" The dashing Otaku exclaimed as he looked at you wide-eyed. "Why the heck did you sign up… and more importantly, this type of writing is even worse than a noob's. I mean, you could do a better job of describing what's happening or how the characters are feeling. That right there looks like it'd been written by a virgin." 

His snide comment made you wince. Taking a deep breath, you square your shoulders and glanced at him. "I can't help that, " you said, trying your best not to blush. "I am a virgin."

"Oh, " he said quietly as he stared at his feet to hide his embarrassment. "I didn't know. Sorry."

"That's fine. Maybe I can head over to Lucifer and ask him to help me with this."

He gripped your wrist once more, just as you were getting out of bed. "Why Lucifer?" 

You looked at him quizzically and tilted your head to one side. "Uh… because he looks like he's got a ton of experience -"

He yanked on your wrist so you'd fallen on his lap. Before you finished your sentence, his mouth had claimed yours, moving hungrily, claiming every inch of your being. Holding you close, he swallowed your gasp and thrust his tongue into your mouth to seek yours.

"Don't go to Lucifer, " he said in between kisses. "Stay with me. I'll help you out. Is that okay?" 

You managed a small nod before he moved his attention from your lips to your neck. As he sucked on a sensitive spot, you let out a moan and immediately clamped your hand over your mouth. 

"Don't cover your mouth. I want to hear you moan for me, " he whispered, before lapping at your neck while slowly unbuttoning your pajama top. "Tell me what I just did."

"You… you… marked me. I-It felt good…"

"Really? What about now?" He made short work of opening your top, and his hands were soon on your breasts, kneading and rolling your nipples between his fingers. "I wonder if your nipples taste as sweet as your mouth is." He blew on one of your pebbled nipples before taking one of them into his mouth, and you felt your panties get soaked. He sucked and laved his warm tongue over your pink nipples one at a time, while you buck against him wildly. "Does this feel good? Tell me!" His voice was raw with lust as he tore your top away and moved you so he had a full view of your naked top. 

You wanted to tell him how wonderful it felt, how your toes curled as he sucked on your breasts, and how you've discovered an invisible connection between your breasts and your pussy… but all you could utter was a moan. 

"You're beautiful, " he said, smiling before you tangled your fingers on his hair and pulled him back so he could lavish your breasts once more. As he flicked his tongue against your hard nipples, you bucked your hips against his hardened cock. The sensation made him groan and he bit your nipple and sucked on it hard. 

Slowly, he laid you on his bed and ran his hand down your body, over your soft plains and curves, and palmed your soaking pussy over your damp pajamas. You arched against his touch and sought more. 

"You're okay with this," he asked. 

"You're asking that now," you quipped. "Teach me, Senpai. I'm all yours."

Those three words were all it took to break his last barrier of restraint. "I want you. I've wanted you for so long, " he said roughly as he removed your bottoms and his clothes and tossed them on the floor. He planted kisses on your lips, your neck, the valley between your breasts, down your belly, before he stopped to look up at her. With a sly smile on his lips, he slowly turned his attention back to your pussy and removed your soaking panties with his teeth. 

It was slow torture, he was aware. As he caught a whiff of your arousal, he cursed himself for not being a total noob at these things. Sighing, he tore the offending garment off. 

You watched as he licked his lips and you tangled your fingers on the pillow, holding your breath,  waiting for his next move. 

"Relax, normie. Trust me, you'll like it, " he said before he dipped his head between your legs and nuzzled his nose against your clit, taking in as much of your scent as he can before you felt warm wet tongue part your folds and  lick your essence. 

"Don't stop… don't stop…"

He sucked and slurped every drop of your essence. "Levi, please… I want more!"

"Just a little while longer, " he said, sliding a finger inside you. You gasped and arched your back as he pumped in and out your pussy. "Does this feel good? I'll make you feel even better." He sealed his promise by sucking on your clit as his fingers thrust in and out of you faster. He knew you were close, he could feel your muscles start to contract, he curled his finger inside you and felt you shatter around him. You cried out his name and bucked thrashed beneath him, riding out your orgasm.

A few minutes later, you laid side by side, breathing heavily as your bodies covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

"That… That was amazing, Levi."

"See? You really didn't need Lucifer for that right, " he said cockily, as he rested his head on your arm. "I can give you all the orgasm you'll ever need."

"But I didn't need Lucifer for this, " you pointed out, much to his surprise. "I was gonna ask him to proofread my work. You're the only one I want."

"Proofread?"

You nodded, and swept his bangs to one side. "Absolutely. You're the only one I want." You smiled at your boyfriend, who was now blushing furiously. "But now I think I can do even better. I think I can write a smutty fanfic… All thanks to you."

The end. 

[corpsentry]

behind the taylor swift gundam was in fact another, smaller gundam: a brief inquiry into the events of june 2020

so back in june this year june and i got together and we made this motherfucker of a story with this motherfucker of a thread to keep track of it all. but you already know that! and i’ve already got one foot and three elbows in my grave, so i’ll spare you the long-winded stuff. you wanna know how i wrote 93,035 words in 4 weeks? i’ll tell you how i wrote 93,035 words in 4 weeks-

-by linking you guys to copies of my planning documents because i feel like those words speak louder than any words i can offer in the present day. these are long documents. but they are also historical artifacts. very interesting. very weird. very, uh, full of cussing. so anyway, here’s

BIG DADDY: THE ORIGINAL PLANNING DOCUMENT

for those, like me, who have no motivation left in life to do anything and rely on summaries from others to acquire new knowledge, it all started with a single line.

prince of a fallen kingdom atsumu tries to kill hinata but falls in love with him instead

june, april something, 2020

with that in mind i tested the concept out with a few paragraphs of text, which you can find at the bottom of the Big Daddy document in the graveyard segment, accidentally sold my soul to the image of hinata with epaulettes, and then worked backwards, structuring an entire plot around two images:

a) hinata getting the shit beat out of him, with snark b) hinata and atsumu dancing in an empty ballroom under the stars

if you want a betrayal, you have to have something worth losing. if you want to fall in love with someone you don’t know, you have to meet them. if you have to meet them, there has to be a reason for that meeting, and so somewhere in between atsumu became a sword instructor and hinata the prince with daddy issues. june and i used this method of glancing anxiously over your shoulder to see what you’d missed to fill out the blanks in the story, after which i tacked up a bunch of post-its, typed out the plot, consulted june, typed out the plot again, and then broke the characters down into a bunch of questions, like ‘what do they want?’ and ‘what do they have?’ and ‘what are they afraid of?’

with the plot more or less ironed out, i decided it was time to start writing, and then i decided that i was actually too scared to start writing after all, so instead i set a couple of timers using classroomtimers.com (15-20 minutes long) and i sat down and i wrote about the world that hinata and atsumu inhabited.

each warm-up was 300-500 words long, and for the first few days, i’d write one before getting into writing the story proper. later these evolved into simply picking a scene from the story and launching straight into it, which became useful for opening those scenes later when i got to them organically.

then i got lazy! so i stopped. but these shitty little exercises were really useful for me because, unfettered by plot, convention, or any kind of tradition hovering over my shoulder, i was able to fuck around loosely enough to realize what i wanted this story to be. it was a very contrived kind of trial-and-error, an exploration of the characters, the story, but most importantly, the tone.

RESEARCH, PLANNING, AND VICTORIAN BOUGIE FASHION

this is a loose map of the castle and Important Locations within it, which i drew up at the start so i could keep track of where everything was and how i could get my characters from point A to point B. i wanted the story to have Some kind of internal logic, you know, even if that logic amounted to ‘a compass would function normally in this world whereas kageyama tobio would not’.

99% of my planning and organizing within those five weeks took place in this lovely dotted cat journal which my sister gave me for my birthday and i repurposed into a metaphorical Diary of Suffering while working on juno. i used it for everything from keeping track of narrative threads to clothing consistency checks, but the main purpose was this: each day at about 10 pm i’d crack open the cat book to a fresh page, stamp the date and the day of suffering at the top, and then write down a list of things i wanted to write, address, or fix today. then i’d sit at my laptop and write like a madman until about 7 in the morning. with breaks, of course, for sitting in the bathroom and staring at the wall and sitting in the kitchen and staring at the wall, but mostly i was writing. and complaining about writing. you were there, you probably remember that.

anyway, here are some pages from the cat book.

aside from the fact that my handwriting is complete shit, you can see that i made zero effort for any of this to be presentable. it was mainly a way for me to keep track of my thoughts because i have the attention span of an ikea wardrobe and tend to forget things as soon as i think of them. the lack of structure also mirrored the way that i went about writing juno. while i did proceed, for the most part, in chronological order, i had a lot of weird and useless revelations during lunch, which by this point was happening around 2 am, and in the 5 minutes before the exhaustion finally hit and carried me down to hell. i changed A Lot. again, to understand exactly how much the story evolved from day one onwards, please consult the big daddy document.

in the meantime, here’s something else.

once june sent over hinata and atsumu’s character designs i sat down like the fucking fool i am and spent 2 hours poring over a document about victorian and other fashion movements of the past so i could assign a noun, adjective, and verb to each element of their outfits. i don’t know why i did this. i certainly could have not, but i attempted to make sense of their ‘fits from a logistical perspective and that went into the cat book too. everything went into the cat book. the cat book is a relic of the past now, stuffed with artifacts such as the birth of oikawa tooru, and also his demise.

MEDIUM DADDY: EDITING, PROOFREADING, AND CREEPY MURDER CATS

i finished writing on june 26th, 2020, approximately a month after i’d first started planning, somewhere around may 27th or 28th. at that point i had about 90,000 words’ worth of story and no sanity left whatsoever, so i took a day-long break to stare at a wall and listen to taylor swift’s enchanted on loop.

and then i made a new document, which you can look at using the link above, and i laid out everything i had to do. i’d discovered a fuck ton of plot inconsistencies and general errors while writing and lying awake in bed at 9 a.m., sleepless in seattle, and now that i was free of the demon egging me towards the first finish line, it was time to Deal with them. i speed-scrolled through the draft, which was 200+ pages compressed into one google doc, because i like to tempt god’s wrath, and fixed up all the plot issues over the course of a few days. this was the fun part.

the actual, hard editing was the extremely un-fun part. i reread the entire thing, paragraph by paragraph, line by damn line, from start to finish, paying especially close attention to awkward phrasing, incomplete dialogue, and moments which had fallen flat in my haste to get on to the next one. this was really fucking terrible. i spent more time lying facedown on the floor than actually editing anything, but after a long time (about a week), that, too was done.

SMALL DADDY: TITLES, SUMMARIES, AND GOOD FUCKING BYES

i spent a good eighty days thinking about the title, though hilariously enough we ended up with something that was a blend of our names. june + elmo = juno, which is, all things considered, pretty perfect, but the process of picking the title was Hell, and i Did Not Come Up With The Title until about 2 hours before posting. you can take a look at the haphazard clusterfuck of my title-selecting process in small daddy, which is linked above.

so the title was a last-minute choice. so was the summary. and the chapter divisions. and actually all the songs in the playlist for juno. the day we dropped juno onto planet earth like a newborn baby pitched out of the sky, i spent an hour hunched over my laptop, cutting my 213 page google doc into chapters based on nothing more than a Vibe. two days before that, i also attempted to voice-act the entirety of juno, an affair which ended at the 20,000 word mark with a sore throat and the kind of exhaustion one typically wants to sleep in a coffin for 23 years to get rid of. so in all honesty, i did very little editing, which is why there are definitely minor typos and/or mistakes hanging out somewhere on that chunky ao3 webpage. but whatever.

my attitude by july 5th (was it july 5th? or 4th? somewhere around there) was basically whatever. anything so i could get finish this damn thing, chuck it out of the window, and never see another google doc until the next century. i’ve been asked a few times how exactly i wrote at a rate of roughly 2000-3000 words per day for four weeks straight, and my answer has always been this: i died. what died, you ask? my soul. my spirit. my Will To Live. i’m a creature of fixations, and juno was my fixation for june. will i ever be able to do this again? would i recommend this experience to anyone? is god real? the answer to all of the above is probably no. juno was a fever dream, and so is my cat book. and so are all the lattes i had. and so was my 9 am to 4 pm sleep schedule.

but what we made is real. the research, oikawa tooru, the 4 am conversations in which i was like ‘how the fuck do i end this’ and june was like ‘jade proposal’ (the proposal was her idea. all rise for twitter user atsuhinas. she is the mastermind behind all of the Inch Resting moments in this story; i just flapped a korok leaf in her direction and made sure the air circulation was working properly) are real as fuck, and looking back, there’s a lot i’d change, but i’m lazy. and college is starting. and anyway, i did write 93,035 words in just under five weeks, four if you don’t count the week of Editing Hell, so i think that’s pretty cool.

thank you for reading this to the end, and for following us on our journey through the enigmatic taylor swift gundam fic which quite literally consumed my entire twitter account for the five weeks i spent working on it. retrospectively speaking i really was butt-obsessed so i am frankly incredibly impressed with everyone around me for putting up with a Husk of a Man for a month. thank you for doing that. thank you for indulging my vague tweeting, and our butterfly dns, and for reading 93 thousand words of gay fanfiction set in a high fantasy world with epaulettes and galettes. on behalf of june, once again, we are incredibly grateful for all your support.

if you have any questions about specific aspects of the writing process, or anything you’d like to know in general with reference to JUNO, feel free to drop me an ask through my tumblr inbox, or through my curiouscat over here. i’m aware i didn’t cover everything, but there’s frankly too much to put in a tumblr post without passing away somewhere around the 56% mark, so let me know what’s on your mind, and i’ll try to answer that to the best of my abilities. but anyway, before i go, here are some

TAKEAWAYS

one: don’t try to write 93,000 words in five weeks. seriously don’t fucking do it you will end up jittery and sleep-deprived and you will leave all your friends on read for a month. pace yourself. set realistic goals. you wrote 2k this week? that’s fantastic. you wrote 4k in a day? you absolute motherfucker. i hope you’re taking a long fucking break tomorrow. your story will not run away from you, but if you run too fast, you will get tired, and then you will pass away.

two: you don’t have to know everything about your story before you start writing. in fact if you have a single camera shot of two characters holding hands under a rose garden awning, i think that’s fucking wonderful. if you look at big daddy, you’ll realize that my initial plot draft, and all the ones following that, are not perfectly aligned with the final version of juno. i improvised over half of the scenes in this motherfucker, and to be completely honest, some of the improvised scenes were the best. fucking oikawa tooru was improvised out of nowhere. he only got written in way later, around chapter 8 or something, because i realized i needed a plot device and a source of information to keep the playing table from toppling over. i Sat Down one day and was like ‘okay, it’s time to write oikawa into the introduction. because he matters now. he didn’t matter last week but now he does, and soon he’s going to be the fulcrum of the entire story, because it’s like that with oikawa tooru’. it’s okay to change your mind halfway. it’s okay to go back and rewrite entire scenes or segments. it’s okay to highlight 4 pages of fresh, sentimental writing, and hit delete. writing is a fluid process, and you Will make discoveries as you progress through your story alongside your characters. be understanding of that iterative process. be kind to yourself.

three: You Are That Motherfucker. you, me, your dog, your dog’s friend, your dog’s enemy, all of us are that motherfucker. i never thought i’d be able to write anything longer than the great big map, which was a much simpler, linear story in which the other main character did not appear in the current timeline until like the eighth chapter. juno was different. juno was the motherfucker, and i was scared shitless of it, and to cope with that fear joked constantly while writing that it’d never see the light of day.

but it did. it was a rocky process, and i was awake for 48 hours after posting it because of the sheer adrenalin stuck in my skull, but i got through it. and i wouldn’t have been able to do it without june, who stepped in when i flopped over facedown on the floor and dragged me to my feet like the badass friend she is, and without everyone else in my life, who put up with me talking about The Thing that i couldn’t really talk about, but juno’s up there now. forever, or until the internet collapses and civilization goes extinct. and if the nineteen year old clown with the attention span of an ikea armchair and an a level certificate from hell wrote the 93,000 word long thing, so can you. i mean this completely unironically and with every ounce of genuine emotion i can summon from the cracked asshole of my heart.

writing is hard. writing is scary. writing is an investigation of the world around you and therefore, by extension, yourself, and that kind of honesty is freaky. it’s like going skinny-dipping next to the president’s mansion. who’s going to see you? what if they take a photo? what if you lose your spot at university?

but don’t think about that. our world is overrun with stories the way cereal bowls are full of cereal, but it’s those stories that keep us all sane in the disgusting day-to-day muck of reality, so think about your story. what’s haunting you today? what message do you want to leave printed in font size 666 comic sans across the southern hemisphere of the planet? what will you be tomorrow?

a writer. you’re going to be a motherfucking writer.

[ickle-ronniekins]

clarity, george x reader

hey guys! happy new year! it’s 2020, which is crazy, ‘cause wasn’t it just 2009 like a second ago? anywho, i’m sick with a cold and am working on requests (i promise!) but i recently discovered the whole soulmate au thing and i really wanna try it soooo...here’s hoping this isn’t terrible! i posted about it yesterday about the idea but i did change some things (i rewrote the end five different times i shit you not) also ps sorry this is hella long

prompt: soulmate au; everyone has a journal that allows them to write back and forth with their soulmate

A/N: so as i’m writing this it kind of reminds me of when harry wrote to tom riddle in CoS haha. anywho—i still want the reader to be a ~magical being~ so i do still want them to go to hogwarts (does that count as an au, then? WHATEVER, lol) however even though they can write back and forth with their soulmate, there’s this lingering restriction on soulmates revealing their identities because of the impending war and voldy and stupid fucking umbridge and all this stuff so they’re sworn to secrecy, not even names, not even hints, until one of them breaks

warning(s): mentions of war, blood, bodies, anxiety, not proofread

So sorry my writing’s been sporadic. Potions is dragging, love.

The words appeared very lightly, you almost didn’t catch them at first. Grinning giddily to yourself, you pulled your journal close to you so only you could see the fragile script in front of you. Potions. With Snape. You were just in Potions with Professor Snape. Is it possible that your soulmate had passed you by on your way out of the dungeons?

Well, of course it was. The castle was only so large, after all. It was proving rather difficult to keep your identity a secret.

You wanted to know who he was the second he first wrote you and made you blush. But, there were rules. Rules you both didn’t want to follow.

Is it four o’clock yet? He asked you now.

You grinned with excitement. Each time his handwriting appeared, it filled you with an overwhelming sense of closeness to him—since this, of course, was as close as you’d gotten.

The impending war put so much worry on your heart—for you, for him.

Biting your lip, you wrote back, I reckon Snape’s class isn’t going terribly well?

A quick response appeared. It’d certainly be better—if you were here.

You wanted nothing more than to know his name, hear his voice, be there with him.

The feast anxiously awaits your arrival, you wrote back cheekily, taking a sip of your pumpkin juice and watching as a cackle of students filtered into the Great Hall. Desperately, you searched the crowd for an inkling of him. There was none, of course. You had no bloody idea. Sighing greatly, you slumped back into your seat, poking at the food on your plate. How long could you possibly keep this going? Your soulmate didn’t really feel like one, especially when you didn’t even know his name.

Are you here, in the Great Hall? he wrote. I just walked in. C’mon, any type of sign that you’re here—at least tell me the color of your hair so I can eliminate some people—that isn’t too daring, now, is it?

How you wanted to. You wanted more than anything to tell him. But the worry that pulled at your heart—it was too much.

With utmost regret, you scribbled, You know we can’t, darling.

His response wasn’t exactly what you’d wanted. What you wanted, truthfully, was maybe for him to break—for him to finally reveal himself to you in a fit of fury, because he was so irrevocably in love with you that he just couldn’t stand it anymore. You could practically feel his sadness when, after a few painful minutes, he just answered, I know...

You looked around you, anxiously searching for some type of answer, but there was none. Many around you were scribbling quickly in notebooks in front of them. It was useless, really, to search for someone you barely knew in a sea full of people.

These restrictions are bloody ridiculous, he wrote one cozy, autumnal afternoon. He was frustrated. You could tell. The pressure of his quill marks and his messy handwriting showed you just how frustrated he was. It’s not fair that they’re keeping us from one another. It drives me bloody mad.

He had already left Hogwarts. Any hope you had of maybe locking eyes with him in the Great Hall and just knowing, deep down, that he was the one...those feelings of hope we’re gone. He was even further away now than you could imagine. You were no longer under the same roof.

In the common room next to the fire, you gripped the pages of your journal tightly. You knew how he felt, of course you did. I’m sick of it too, love... Your heart ached for him.

It seemed silly, but it was the truth. How were you supposed to feel about the man you were to spend the rest of your life with when you barely knew anything at all?

An idea of sorts came to him. You could almost feel his excitement and adrenaline rush. He answered, softer now, What if, instead of in writing, we just plan to meet...

His writing trailed off. You knew he recognized the danger of this idea, with every single slip of parchment and message being watched and intercepted.

I don’t care, you know. I don’t care what they do to me. As long as I can finally meet you.

Slowly, you flipped through the many pages of your journal, reading some of your conversations with him from the past years. It had proven extremely difficult to not give any hints about your identities over the years, so of course, you reread, every single day, the hints that he had given you.

He was one of many children. He was an inventor. He inherited his mum’s love for cooking and was a damn good one, if he did say so himself. He loved Hogwarts in the wintertime. His dad was overly fascinated with Muggles and their way of living. And he was funny—really funny, but he didn’t need to tell you that. He was always making you laugh.

You fed off of these five and only things for years. Years, they had sustained you, but right now, it wasn’t feeling like enough. Nothing felt like enough.

I want you to be safe, you told him. You need to be.

And then, you wrote again. Promise me that you are. Safe, I mean.

Your answers had been more sporadic and choppy and less long and interesting. He’d told you after he’d left Hogwarts that he’d been working on something, something to ease the pain of the impending war, something that he was excited about. The glimmer of those feelings kept you afloat in what felt like a world in which you were drowning slowly.

An answer came when you were asleep. I’m safe, darling. We had a long night. Promise me you’ll focus on your classes and graduating and keeping yourself safe and sound and I promise everything will be worth it.

All these years of writing and waiting and hoping seemed to be taking it’s toll on you both. There had been days where you hadn’t talked with one another at all, days where you didn’t even have the energy to pick up you quill and write a single thing. You barely had enough energy to discuss the news of you finishing school.

He told you one stormy night that he’d gotten hurt, that he’d lost one of his ears. In a moment of panic and worry, you’d written back as quickly as you could with questions you knew he couldn’t answer. What happened? Where are you? I’ll find you, let me come and help you.

A stern “no”, and then a softer, “I’m okay, I promise,”, had not helped your nerves at all. Things were getting worse. Voldemort’s army were taking out witches, wizards and Muggles alike, one by one, as the world you knew and loved was crumbling in pieces around you.

It was an awful feeling, knowing your soulmate was out somewhere in the world, hurting—in pain—and you couldn’t do anything at all to help him.

As the war worsened, your family was tortured for information. Death Eaters had stormed your home, questioning you on the whereabouts of Harry Potter, a boy just a year younger than you, a boy whom you went to school with—but you didn’t know. It didn’t matter, though. You were left with stinging burns, open wounds, broken ribs and gashes along your arms and legs.

It’d been exactly four days since you’d written your soulmate.

Please, love, let me know that you’re okay, he pleaded. You swore you could see tear drops next to the words he’d written. You told him swiftly, with all of the energy you could muster, that you were.

It seemed as though the sky had turned permanently dark gray. Storm clouds had swallowed the world whole. There was an eerie, cool wind that sent chills down your spine, and it was quiet—too quiet—the kind of quiet it is when it’s snowing outside. But this wasn’t the good kind.

Word had gotten to you that Hogwarts was under attack. The school you grew up in was being pummeled to the ground with those that you loved inside of it. He was there, he had to be there. Maybe, just maybe, in a moment of clarity, you’d find him somehow. You hadn’t thought once—you apparated almost immediately, the pull behind your naval nearly knocking the wind right out of you, but before you’d left, you wrote him one last thing. I’m going to Hogwarts. If we don’t survive...know that I love you. Salty tears escaped your eyes and landed on the pages of your journal.

You did, of course, even though you hadn’t met yet. Love him. You knew it deep in your heart. He was your soulmate, after all, even if you didn’t survive.

But the second before you apparated, you saw scribbly, messy handwriting on the journal placed delicately on your desk. It was so quick that you almost missed it, but you know you couldn’t have dreamt it. It was all too real. My name’s George Weasley—find me as quickly as you can.

Of course you knew him. He was one of the most well known people at Hogwarts when you were in school there. Heart thumping as you landed on your feet in the middle of the Great Hall, you noticed the blood, the bodies, the debris all around you. You swallowed over a lump in your throat. What would happen now that he revealed himself?

You’d been waiting years to hear his name.

Where was he?

And you saw him, hoisting himself on top of rubble, firing spells in every which direction, with his brothers next to him. A piece of debris slid against your cheek and left a stinging burn in it’s place. You touched your fingers to it gently, only to see some blood appear. You winced and fumbled over bodies and bricks and rubble.

He knocked a Death Eater over the edge of the bridge.

“George?”

He whirled around immediately—his face tired and his eyes bloodshot and sad. There were cuts and bruises all over his head, his red hair matted down by dirt, a large gash in his arm glistening with bright blood.

“It’s you,” his voice was hoarse and dry. He brought a hand to your cheek and wrapped it around the back of your neck. His hands absentmindedly made their way through your long, messy hair. His eyes were glassy. You tried to choke back your tears.

You placed your hands against his chest. “Finally.”

A moment of clarity hit when you realized that you’d met the man you’d spend the rest of your life with.

“I love you, you know—” he said in a moment of panic, a small smile tugging at the edges of his lips.

Everything went black.

When you opened your eyes, you were in a hospital of sorts—St. Mungo’s. Everything was still hazy. You rubbed your temples, head throbbing, and swallowed. Your throat was extremely dry. You reached for the glass of water on your beside table.

There was a news clipping there. Once your eyes adjusted to the light, you read slowly. There’d been a war a few months prior. Lord Voldemort was dead—he had died at Hogwarts. Wasn’t that the school you’d attended? You furrowed your brow.

Your memory was very fuzzy.

A red haired man walked slowly into the room with some sort of book in his hands.

Why did he look so familiar?

He stopped in his tracks when your eyes met his. Careful, so as not to scare you, he grinned lightly and said softly, “You’re awake.” There was a hitch in his voice.

He tried to tell you many things about your life. Your name, your age, where you went to school. What had happened during the war. That he was your soulmate. He mentioned something about journals and how he and you had communicated only through them for years. You couldn’t seem to understand. You wanted too, but you just...couldn’t. He didn’t really tell you anything about his life—just yours. Perhaps you needed to remember yours first. Having him near you gave you a sense of warmth, though.

“The doctors say she may not remember for a while, mate,” another man who looked exactly like him had whispered one afternoon. He patted his brother on the shoulder. “Maybe try and start from the beginning.”

The beginning. Had you forgotten everything from the beginning?

Panic rose in your chest.

Through a very frustrating conversation, trying to get you to remember anything at all, he reintroduced himself, as if to start new. “I’m George,” he told you.

George, you thought. Familiar. You smiled at him.

Everyday, he stayed by your side and watched as your memory seemed to improve, even slightly—bits and pieces coming back to you. You’d attended Hogwarts. Your father was a wizard, but mum was a Muggle. Your favorite class at school was Charms. But him—he was still hazy.

You could tell it was hurting him, but he’d never let on. Your heart ached.

“When did we meet?” You asked him one day, sitting up in bed and blowing on your hot soup.

He loved it when you asked him questions. “During the war, actually,” he told you. “It was only for a moment, though. Very fleeting, but very wonderful.” He smiled at you.

You grinned back at him, feeling a surge of familiarity enter your body. You reached out and placed your hand on top of his, squeezing lightly. You saw him swallow over a lump in his throat, his eyes yearning for you to remember.

And now?

You asked him, “Can I...can I read your journal?” It was the book he brought with him every single day.

Tears welled up in his eyes, he gently placed the book into your hands. “Of course you can.” He stood up and placed a kiss onto your forehead. “I’ll have a word with the doctors—I’ll be right back,”

When you were sure he was out of the room, you opened the pages. Some were ripped and tattered, but you could still read the passages and differentiate between your writing and his. I just can’t wait to spend my life with you. You’d said that. Your heart skipped a beat.

I hope you that when we finally meet, he’d written, I am going to kiss you and never stop. I know it sounds silly because we haven’t met, but I love you...more than anything in this world.

Your cheeks flushed red at the thought.

As you sat there in bed, imagining what it’d be like to press your lips to his, slowly biting your bottom lip, he sauntered back into you room and snapped you back into reality. You hadn’t noticed how wide you were smiling until he startled you.

You placed the journal gently on your bedside table and took to cooling off your soup again. George was busy tidying up around the hospital room. When you took a slow sip, it was as if your taste buds had been reawakened. “Bloody hell, this is delicious—where did you get it?”

George smiled gratefully at you. “I made it this morning,” he told you. And just like that. Clarity. “I love cooking, actually, nobody really knows that but I got it—”

“—from your mum,” you cut him off.

He stood at the other end of the room, peering at you.

“Yes,” he said.

It was like everything came back to you at once—the writing, the moment he revealed himself, the war, seeing him for the first time—it was everything. Your soulmate.

Smiling greatly, you continued. “And your dad, he—he loves Muggle things, doesn’t he? He’s fascinated by them, everything about them—and you’ve a lot of siblings, don’t you?” He’d sat down next to you and pulled your hands into his. “And you absolutely hated Potions class—” at this, he laughed through a sob. A feeling of bravery entered your body. “And you promised me that when we finally met, you’d kiss me and you’d never stop.” You inched closer to him. “Guess we never really got a chance, did we?”

With tears in his eyes, he gently caressed your cheek and glanced longingly from your eyes to your lips. With a tiny nod from you, he laughed into the kiss that was years in the making. You felt like you were reentering your body. He kissed your forehead, your jawline, your neck, your shoulders, your hands— “You remember,” he said quietly.

You let out a soft hum as you pulled him close again. He gave you the most genuine and heartwarming smile when you told him, “I could never forget the man I love. I just can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

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