#i mean if they had ignored them ringing the doorbell for a while sun and moon would have left but they didnt

[betweenblackberrybranches]

Can we get some examples of dumb shit the boys get into in your rlgl au? Some examples of yn have to save the dummies?

Lets see:

Filling the dishwasher with a full bottle of dish soap because they ran out of the actual dishwasher detergent (yes they have dishes because they are able to eat, dont get anything out of it though apart from feeling and some form of taste and having to clean out the compartment in their chest after, which is a hastle)

Bringing a ferral racoon into the flat because it looked cute.... Y/N got bitten and had to get shots after this

Waking Y/N at 3am to ask them to fix Moons hat after they ripped it in a petty squabble

[rafescoke]

Brother’s Best Friend ; Rafe Cameron

masterlist

Request: heyy I’ve recently found your account and I just felt in love with the way you write and with your works so I was wondering if you could write a fic where the reader is Kelce’s sister, she’s sitting alone at home and suddenly she hears a doorbell ringing, she comes to open the door and that’s Rafe and she says something like “Kelce’s not home” or smth like that and Rafe answers “I actually came to see you” or smth like that. It can be smut or fluff or whatever I don’t really care. Sorry if this is chaotic but I just want the reader to be black and I have bad ideas lmao 😭 sending love ❤️❤️

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: Fooling around with your best friend's sister is not a good sign, especially when it involves something more than skinny dipping and drinking alcohol together.

Warnings: Slight smut, mentions of drinking, slight angst, teasing Rafe Cameron

A/N: I'm so close to 700 followers wtf y'all are truly amazing ily! I'm finishing all requests in my inbox for the new few days; thank you to those who put their trust in me to write their ideas <33

(Y/N) could never deny the attraction she felt towards a certain brunette boy with that charming smile.

The feeling evolved for the first time when he came over to her house to see Kelce. He was so polite to her; giving her a turn on passing the ball and scolding Kelce and Topper for not wanting to give her a chance at playing basketball in the swimming pool.

But she was only 8 back then, and she regarded the feeling as nothing more than a silly crush.

Rafe Cameron changed when he entered high school. (Y/N) couldn't explain what was wrong, but he was not her Rafe anymore. He didn't hold the door for her, scold Kelce for making fun of her or do anything that used to make her heart soar.

Her thoughts were disrupted when a fresh blue towel hit her squarely on the face, causing her to yelp in shock.

"Do you wanna come down to the lake with us?"

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, pulling the towel to her side, and closed her magazine with a snap. Her eyes fell back to the three guys, lingering on the tallest one a little bit too long.

She cleared her throat, "No, I'm tired."

Kelce shrugged, walking towards the entrance of their home from the swimming pool. He didn't feel like having (Y/N) around anyways, because that would mean he would have to protect her from his friends.

Kelce loved his friends, of course, but he also knew the other side of them that uses girls like Kleenex tissue only to throw them away again.

"On a second thought-" (Y/N) said, stopping the three boys from entering the big house. "I think I'll go."

"You sure?" Kelce asked. God. Now he would have to play the big-brother stimulator for the whole night.

The night sky was dark, and the only light came from the moonlight up above and sometimes from the flashlight of each other's phone. Boozes laid messily on the wooden deck and their clothes were discarded all over the place.

Not one person was sober, and they were all laughing to a joke by Topper.

"Okay, okay, last one-" Topper said excitedly. He shivered, and (Y/N) thought about it as a response towards the cold lake water or the excited nerves of sharing another stupid joke. "Why did the chicken cross the road?"

"Easy. To get to the other side," Rafe answered proudly. A beer drop slid down from his lips to his chin, and (Y/N) felt a strong desire to lick it.

"Wrong."

"Okay, fine, I don't know."

Topper smiled widely, and (Y/N) could see this joke coming from a few miles away. "To get to the loser's house. Knock knock."

Rafe pulled a face, his eyebrows raised. "Who's there?"

"The chicken."

Kelce and Topper's laugh filled the silence around them, and (Y/N) found herself slightly smiling at the joke. Rafe groaned, finally understanding the joke and being angry at himself for willingly taking the bait.

"Okay, okay. The joke's over."

Kelce laughed again before taking a full swig of another beer bottle. He stared at the sky, and let out a loud huff.

"Wish we can go up there."

"Me too, man," Topper agreed. He joined Kelce by staring up at the dark sky, both clearly high out of their minds.

"Do you want to?"

(Y/N) looked to her side, not noticing Rafe who had moved from his previous position near Topper to beside her. She quirked her head to one side, her face questioning.

"Go up to the sky," he explained. He watched as she looked up to the sky, her mouth slightly parting. Her chest heaved peacefully, and her wet body donning the lilac bikini never looked so beautiful and perfect.

"Nah. I'm too scared."

"Even when I'll go with you?" he smiled. (Y/N) rolled her eyes, though her heart was soaring brightly; she would never feel scared anymore if he were to be around her all the time.

"Yeah. Even when you’ll go with me. Besides, it's not possible."

"Let people enjoy things," he said, and he was so close to her now because she could smell the coffee mint from his breath. Her heart was beating wildly, though this would be the ten-thousandth time he did this to her.

It never failed to leave her completely breathless.

"You're drooling," he whispered, and used his thumb to wipe her wet lips from the beer. Her breath hitched, and she couldn't utter any words back. She was too mesmerised with the whole situation.

His fingers stopped at her chin, looking into her eyes, and he was petrified too. He leaned in, but before anything could happen, (Y/N) moved away. He cleared his throat, and swam back to the deck.

‘I’m drunk’ was repeated by him all the way to the the place he threw his clothes off, shaking his head at the thought that he was so close to kissing her. He looked back to her direction in the lake, still staring at him. He focused back on the ties of his shorts, and made his way back to the Kelce’s house.

He ignored his best friends calls.

. . .

(Y/N) never really liked school, but she loved the after-activity that she got herself in.

Like cheerleading.

She used to think of the sport as something quirky, but in truth, once she was accepted into the school’s cheerleading team, she had never been more into a sport than before.

She walked down the field to the other side of the track where the other girls were waiting for her. Her training skirt flew slightly from the wind, and she was trying to hold them down all while carrying the water bottle and a duffle bag.

She exchanged a few greetings with her other friends, putting down her duffle bag and her water bottle. The sun was scorching hot, and all she felt like was eating ice cream inside of their boat whilst streaming down the lake, but the last time she had ditched cheer practice, it hadn’t ended well.

“Uh-oh,” someone exclaimed behind her. “Big bro is coming.”

(Y/N) looked up to the field, and sure enough Kelce was running towards her in his jersey. (Y/N) sighed, not knowing what she did now that could earn her a lecture from Kelce.

“Hey, I’m bringing a girl home after practice,” he said. “Would you mind getting a ride with someone else?”

She groaned, “Fuck, Kelce, no. You can tell your new scandal to fuck off because I am not getting an Uber to walk back to home.”

“Look, please? You can ask your friends to give you a ride, right? It’s important,” he begged. His eyes were scanning her friends now, obviously trying to find someone who could help his sister, and when he found one, his smile quirked upwards. “Yo, Sarah! Can you drive (Y/N) home after practice?”

Sarah walked towards them, her blonde hair up in a ponytail. She slung her arms around (Y/N)’s shoulders, noting the exasperated expression on her face, and gave Kelce a glare.

“You should let her drive a car if you’re going to bring a girl home after school,” she said. Kelce groaned, knowing the amount of shit he will be getting from the people around him, but he was truly trying to make it right for this new girl.

“Look, I’ll buy y’all anything for a week. Food? Sure. Clothes? Sure.”

Sarah clapped her hands, seemingly excited, and forced (Y/N) to say yes. She wouldn’t mind driving (Y/N) home, because she wanted to catch up with her about some gossip too.

“Fine. But I’m driving my own car tomorrow.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” was all he said before he jogged down to the soccer team.

That evening was hell to (Y/N). She couldn’t get the formation right, the sun was getting hotter and hotter, her hair was sticking out weirdly, and worst of all, she couldn’t stop thinking about yesterday’s event.

He was so, so close to her.

“(Y/N), come on! What’s gotten into you? The top part, again!” The coach yelled, slapping her hands against her lap. There were sweat forming on her forehead, and she was obviously hot and bothered from this whole situation.

But sport was sport. The coach wasn’t going to let today’s training to waste, and she intended for the new number to work.

(Y/N) muttered a soft ‘sorry’ before going back to her position, her heart still thumping at the thought. The cheer started, and her mouth was saying the words, but her brain was somewhere else.

The two guys by her side picked her up by her calf, and she felt the wind gushing out from beside her ears. She was high up in the sky now, throwing one arm upwards and balancing herself on one leg, and it was finally time now, to twirl into the two boys’ arms, but she wasn’t ready. Her mouth didn’t utter any words from the cheer, too focused on the step, and before she could jump back into their arms, she felt herself slipping.

“(Y/N)!” The coach yelled, running towards her by the track. Sarah and the other teammates were surrounding her now, watching as she groaned on the ground painfully, holding onto her arms.

“Okay, I take that as the end of today’s training,” the coach said, sighing. “(Y/N), are you okay? Can you walk?”

(Y/N) held her thumbs up, because she had worse injury than this before. Hell, the boxing fight she used to have with Kelce in their childhood was more painful. She sat up from the track, feeling the heat of the ground burning on her bottoms, and stretched her fingers. The pain coursed through her veins at the feeling, but kinda liked it.

“Come on, let’s get you home,” Sarah said, helping her up. She groaned when she finally stood on her two feet, feeling so painful all she wanted to do was lay back on the track, but she knew she had to go home.

She allowed Sarah helping her limp towards a black Mercedes, her eyes closed the whole time.

Okay, scratch the fight with Kelce. This one was more painful than ever.

“Can I stay at your house?” She blurted when Sarah drove out of the school gate. “I don’t feel like listening to my mom’s lecture about my leg.”

Sarah glanced at her from the rearview mirror, watching as she spread her leg out the whole backseat. The ice bag someone had gotten her was pressed against her calf, and she was sweating from the heat and trying to contain the pain.

“Yes, of course, that would be better,” Sarah said. She had other plans that evening, but helping (Y/N) overstepped all of them.

“So what’s up with you and John B?”

Sarah turned to look at her fully on her face, furrowing her eyebrows. “What do you know about John B?”

(Y/N) laughed, “The light’s green.” Just on cue, the car behind them horned at Sarah, and she quickly pushed on the pedal.

“How do you know about John B?” Sarah asked, biting her lips. If (Y/N) could find out, she couldn’t imagine what would Rafe do if he finds out.

“God, don’t be worried. I’m not going to tell anyone about this, okay? Just relax. I think it’s cute.”

Sarah’s worried expression softened, “You think so?”

“Yeah. At least you got to be with whoever you want. Some people can’t have that.”

Like her. Kelce would kill her and dump her body in the ocean for the sharks if he ever finds out how much she likes Rafe.

“You’ll find the one soon. How about that guy in your maths class?” The car turned to the right, nearing the destination.

“No. I’m not looking for anyone.”

There’s only one, but Sarah won’t like the answer.

The time was 8.23p.m. now, and (Y/N) had been in Sarah’s room for a total of 3 hours. After catching up on new gossips, watched a movie, did her English essay, she felt extremely dehydrated.

Sarah was sleeping peacefully beside her, being so tired after the practice and school, and (Y/N) didn’t feel like waking her up. She have been to The Camerons household, but that was only for Sarah’s birthday party a few years back.

She sighed, getting up from the bed to find the kitchen. The house was like a maze, and she wished they had some kind of a map to browse through.

Alas, she found the kitchen, her muscles screaming from all the wrong turns she took before. She knew where the plastic cups and plates were situated, having to help Sarah get them during her birthday party, so she didn’t have any trouble getting some.

She drank the cold water quickly, feeling the liquid sloshing down her throat. The feeling was so, so good that she wished she could go through it again.

“I do not know where your sister is, Kelce,” a voice sighed not far from the kitchen. “I told you you shouldn’t bring that girl home and just drive (Y/N) home yourself.”

The voice, unmistakably Rafe, was getting nearer and nearer. (Y/N)’s eyes widened, trying to find an empty space to hide in, but there were none. She panicked, still looking for a way out that she didn’t notice the tall figure behind her.

“Oh. Found you.”

His hair was dishevelled and wet, his chest heaving and he was shirtless.

What a nice way to bump onto each other.

“Take a picture,” he started, shutting his phone off and placing them in his shorts. “It’ll last longer that way.”

Now we’re talking about the new Rafe.

(Y/N) scoffed, pushing him away and making a disgusted face at his sweat sticking on her arms. “I’m here for Sarah.”

“Why? Did she die or something?”

God. He really is insufferable.

She made to push him away to return to Sarah’s room, only for him to grab her by her waist.

“Move.” Her tone was stern, but her stomach was flipping wildly. She tried to not look so bothered, but failed miserably.

Rafe seemed to notice her behaviour because he didn’t let go of her. “Come on, where’s the fun in that?”

She was on the same level as his neck now, and he could still smell his expensive cologne even after he swam in the swimming pool. She sighed, placing her hands against his chest.

“Move.”

Rafe laughed, putting his hands up in defeat, and went to grab the same glass she was drinking from. He refilled the glass and downed the content, and (Y/N) had to look away from the innocent move.

Maybe he was just saving water by not using a different cup.

“Do you need help to return to Sarah’s room or something?”

“No, I’m fine,” she refused, and made sure he could see her fake annoyed expression before she returned to the hall she came from. But there were 2 halls now, and she completely forgot which one she had been before.

“Really?” Rafe stood beside her, and she looked up to his amused face. “Because you’re in the wrong hall. It’s the other exit of the kitchen, darling.”

. . .

Why couldn’t she not see his face every single day?

It was truly troubling her, to see that boy everyday, because she couldn’t think properly every time.

The lights from the stadium blared widely, and the deafening screaming coming from both teams’ supporters rang throughout the whole field. (Y/N) was sure the whole island could hear them too.

Two things happened earlier than evening. Number one, her skirt wasn’t completely dried after being sent off to the laundry for a week, and her hair wasn’t just cooperating.

So here she was; in a shorter uniform skirt, her hair hung up into a ponytail with lots of hairspray. She wished for nothing but to be all cuddled up with her blanket in her room.

“You’re okay?” Sarah asked. She fixed (Y/N)’s lips gently, getting the lipstick and lipliner even, and gave her a kiss on the cheeks. “Don’t worry about the skirt. It looks normal.”

For a little girl.

(Y/N) sighed and involuntarily pulled down the hem of her skirt. Ten minutes from the game now, and she was nervous she would flash everyone on the school compound.

In the locker room, Rafe was sitting right next to Kelce as his best friend prayed for a win tonight. He was never that religious, and he didn��t feel the need to mutter a prayer to anyone. But tonight, he listened intently to whatever Kelce was saying because he needed to win this cup more than anything in the world.

“You’re okay?” The coach asked, patting him on the shoulder.

“Yeah. Just nervous.”

“Don’t be, you’re the Star Player. Right?”

The Star Player.

Rafe gave him a smile, and went back to his praying.

When he first entered the field to meet the rival team, his eyes couldn’t help but scanned the bleachers to find his dad. Ward wasn’t there, but Rose and Wheezie were cheering for him.

Of course.

He sighed, and went straight to the middle of the field. It’s funny how everyone was there to support him, Rafe, the Star Player, the jock, the whatever else people were saying about him.

He just wanted Ward to see him.

“Come on, man, it’s fine,” Topper said, patting his back. “He’ll come later.”

Even his friends could see how miserable he was feeling.

The first match of the game went smoothly; he scored a try goal, everyone was cheering loudly, but it was just then that one of the opponents came knocking Rafe by his side.

Rafe fell to the ground with a loud thud, earning so many gasps from the stand.

“What the fuck?!” Topper pushed whoever responsible for his fall, and the sound of a whistle rang throughout the air. “He pushed him for nothing! You saw it, fuck!”

Rafe groaned on the ground, clutching onto his arms, and he tried to spread his fingers, but couldn’t. His other teammates were surrounding him now, trying to get a good look of him, all while Topper and Kelce and another friend of his went off to the referee.

Rafe put his other hand up, trying to sit up. “I’m fine, I’m fine! Move!”

The other members scattered away, sighing in relief when Rafe came back to his legs. The referee, still getting yelled at by Topper, shook his head at something he said, and before anyone could process what happened, Topper tackled the opponent who had pushed Rafe down to the ground.

Kelce pulled Topper away after a few long seconds, telling him to stop. But one thing about Topper is that he just won’t stop.

“Stupid fuck!” He yelled, throwing another punch.

“Topper, stop, they’re going to throw you off the field!” Kelce yelled. Finally, he separated them away after the opponent’s friend pulled his injured friend away.

The referee, expectedly, pulled a red card to Topper, earning a groan coming from their coach and the stand. Rafe cursed, knowing that Topper’s one of their strongest member. He watched as Topper tried to argue with the referee, but it was no use.

“It’s okay,” Kelce said, patting his back as he made his way back to the bench. “Relax, bro, okay?” Topper calmed down after the coach said something to him, but Rafe could clearly see the distress written on his face.

“You’re okay?” Kelce asked, pointing to his arms.

Rafe could move his muscles now though he could feel the sharp pain from doing so. But he was too content on winning this game.

(Y/N) watched as the second match unfold, her teeth biting into her lips in fear. She didn’t feel like having the next week full of gloomy students and disappointed teachers, so she wanted the cup as much as everyone else.

Rafe was fast, throwing the ball smoothly back and forth with Kelce and his other friends, but it was apparent that the Star Player wasn’t feeling like himself.

It might be the arm, or the fact that Ward Cameron was too busy with his work to see his son playing.

37 minutes had passed, and the other team was leading. They only had 3 minutes left, and with the team being so drained out and their captain with a broken arm, it was clear who was winning.

The whistle blared through the field again, noting the end of the match. As the other team supporters cheered happily the other side of the stands muttered silently to each other about the game.

(Y/N) watched as Rafe yelled something at his teammates angrily before storming off to the locker room. He winced in pain, holding his arm for support, and ignored every calls from his friends as he made his way to the empty room.

Looking around quickly, she muttered a ‘be right back’ to Sarah, and quickly followed Rafe into the locker room. She wanted to see if he was okay, and if he needed help with his arm.

In truth, she just wanted to be there for him.

“Hey,” she slowly said, and Rafe’s head perked up to see her before he looked down to the ground again.

“What do you want?”

She felt a struck of pain across her heart at his tone, but decided against it. “Are you okay?”

“Fine. You’re not supposed to be here.”

“I was just trying to see if you need anything,” she said, and when his eyes finally looked up to her again, she unconsciously pulled her skirt down again.

“Yeah? I don’t need anything. Go!”

“Wow, you’re a dick,” she scoffed, and before Rafe could mutter anything back, she exited the locker room and straight to the cheer team. She felt a mixture of anger and embarrassment all at once, because God, Rafe Cameron did not just yell at her for trying to be nice.

She should’ve known better than to be ‘nice’ to him. He wasn’t the same 8 year old she met 10 years ago.

. . .

A week had passed from the game, and everything went back to normal.

Except for one person.

Rafe didn’t come to school the next Monday, not that (Y/N) wanted to see him after getting yelled at, but she couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

He didn’t just broke his arm; his father also chose not to attend his game.

It was finally Friday, and (Y/N) was too happy to stay home and continue watching Love Island. Life is better when you are focused on someone else’s relationship other than yours.

She was rolling in her bed, casually smiling at the cheesy joke made by one of the contestant, and before she could hear the reply towards the joke, the doorbell blared throughout the house.

(Y/N) groaned, thinking how Kelce must’ve forgotten his keys again, and waited a few more minutes so that he would just leave her alone and go to that stupid prick, Rafe Cameron’s house.

But the doorbell rang again, and she had no choice but to open the door. She was all alone in the big house, having both her parents still working and her maids having the day off.

But when she opened the door, the boy standing before her was the last person she wanted to see.

“Hi,” Rafe said.

“Kelce’s not here,” she mumbled, and pushed the door close. Rafe’s quickly put his hands to block the door from closing, and (Y/N) pulled away after deciding not to crush his other only working hands.

“What?” She asked, in the same tone that he had given her in the locker room. She felt good when his eyebrows were raised.

“I’m here for you.”

“Why? Did I die or something?” Bingo.

“God, you’re impossible,” Rafe sighed. “Can I talk to you? Just us two?”

(Y/N) sighed, wanting to get this done, and opened the door wider to grant him into her home. (Y/N) closed the door and pressed her back against it, crossing her arms.

“Okay. Talk.”

“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” He said. “I was just so angry with everything. I was pushed and Topper received a red card because of me—”

“You didn’t do anything, Rafe.”

“Yeah, but he was just trying to protect me. And, and I was just so mad at myself because I couldn’t play properly like I usually play. I’m so sorry for yelling at you. I didn’t mean it.”

(Y/N) sighed, “It’s okay. I’m over it.”

“Really?” He stepped closer, and this time, (Y/N) allowed him. “Thank you so much!”

He pulled her into a crushing hug, and before she could put her mind into it, he lifted her up and spin her around.

“Okay, okay, now you’re just pushing it,” she groaned, hitting him on his chest. “Put me down, Rafe, I swear to god.”

Rafe put her down, his face shining happily. They were close again, like that time in the lake, and (Y/N) didn’t feel like pushing him away again.

Because maybe, that 8 year old him was somewhere in there.

“Uh—” he looked away, scratching the back of his head. “Do you wanna. . . watch Netflix?”

(Y/N) cleared her throat, “I was watching Love Island. Wanna watch with me?”

Rafe nodded, anything to get closer with this girl, and followed her upstairs to her room. The first time he entered her room was 9 years ago, and it was only because Topper and Kelce had pranked him into thinking that her room was the gaming room.

“What are you doing?” The girl before him yelled, and before he could explain how he was lied to, she threw a pink hairbrush at him. He groaned from the pain, rubbing his head.

“I’m sorry, I thought this was the gaming room!”

“Out!” She yelled, and he quickly obliged.

Her room was still pink, but it was now filled with so many books, clothes and makeups instead of the dollhouse and toys he saw a few years ago.

“Is this the pink hairbrush you threw at me?” He laughed, holding the pink tool. (Y/N) snatched the hairbrush, embarrassed, and quickly stuffed them into the drawers.

He placed himself beside her on her bed, watching her as she resumed the video. He focused on the show, trying to find at least something interesting from the show, but there was nothing.

2 episodes later, he was too into the show that he pressed on the stop button before they could continue on the next episode.

“I wish they would just communicate,” he said. “Like the whole show’s pointless. They didn’t try to talk to each other about their problems.”

“Yeah, that’s what makes the show interesting, Rafe,” she said as if that was a fact, “And besides, if they communicate, everyone will win the show.”

“Then that’s just good. A win-win situation.”

“You don’t get it,” she groaned, looking into his face. “There’s no use in fighting with you about this.”

She pressed on the resume button again, and instantly, Rafe pressed on the stop button.

“Rafe, I will—”

“You still haven’t apologised for throwing the hairbrush at me.”

She widened her eyes, “That was 9 years ago.”

“And?”

“Fine,” she placed her laptop aside, and turned to fully look him in the face. “Sorry.”

“Not sincere enough.”

She groaned, “Rafe, I am terribly sorry for throwing my pink hairbrush at you. I am so sorry that it hit your face and be the reason why you’re still holding vengeance at someone.”

“I’m not talking about that kind of sorry.”

“Fuck, you’re annoying,” she said. “I’m not going to bow down to you or anything.”

“Just a kiss.”

She looked at him back, her heart stopping at his words. “No.”

“Why?”

“Why? Because you’re Rafe?”

“Rafe? Okay, fine. I’m not Rafe. I’m Rafael.”

“Okay, it’s still a no. You’re Kelce’s best friend.”

“Didn’t you kiss Topper last year?”

“That was a dare—” she sighed. “And it didn’t mean anything.”

“Exactly. This won’t mean anything. This is just a sorry.”

It would mean everything to her to place her lips against his.

“This is sexual harassment.”

“Not if you want it too,” he said, and leaned closer to her. “And you do want it, right? I can see it in your eyes.”

She didn’t know why God would put her and Rafe in this damn position over and over again, because it wasn’t helping her to get over him.

She looked down to his lips, and how it was so inviting, and she wanted more than anything to kiss him, to finally give herself to him, but she was afraid.

“Rafe—”

“Shut up,” he cut her off, and pressed himself against her. Their kiss was slow and passionate, none like neither (Y/N) or Rafe had experienced before. Her hands found themselves wrapping around Rafe’s neck, pulling him closer.

He pulled away, grinning. “I thought you didn’t want this.”

“Shut up.” She rolled her eyes, and pulled him in for another kiss again.

He pushed her down onto the bed gently, still kissing her, and his hands were roaming down her body. She was so, so perfect and every time he saw her, he would have to look away to stop the unwanted thoughts forming in his head.

During the game last Friday, he had to pinch himself from staring at her legs in that goddamn skirt for too long.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he whispered, and she hummed in response before pushing him over so she could take control. She sat on top of him, grinning widely. She was in heaven; seeing him all worked up under her with his chest heaving.

“You would be surprised at the amount of times I imagined myself on top of you like this,” she said, placing her hands flat on top of his chest.

Rafe grinned back, trying to contain his feelings. “Yeah? Wanna show what else you’ve been imagining?”

She leaned closer, making sure to brush her bottom against him and hearing his soft groans. She placed a soft kiss against his cheek, and whispered into his ear.

“Would rather have you show what you’ve been dreaming of me.”

Rafe licked his lips, loving this side of her, and he wanted more than anything to make her his. She looked so innocent sitting there on top of him, smiling and biting her lips.

Before he could touch her in ways he never did to a girl before, a voice rang from outside the room.

“(Y/N)? Have you seen Rafe? I saw his car outside,” the voice said. After a few seconds of silence, he sighed. “You’re okay? I’m coming in, okay?”

“No, no, wait!” (Y/N) shouted, scrambling from her position on top of Rafe as he quickly pulled her up, but it was too late.

Kelce saw them in the midst of trying to get away, with his sister’s leg on one side of his best friend and his best friend’s hands still around his sister’s waist.

“What. The. Fuck.”

-

@okayshoto @joselyn001 @onceuponateenagetrash @dyingsleeping @iwannabeapogue @meaganjm @rafesobxs @flossy2929 @unfortunatekiwitrash @scottybitch @asimpwriter @amaya124 @tommy-tommo @thatshithurted8 @fallincindy @marvelwhor3 @rafeswh0ree @kookap @supernaturallydc-blog @blank-velvet @alaniskauany @kiiim8 @witchywrter @kaitlyn2907 @heyimflo @overcookedpastasause @tsukkiswifeey @spidey-d00d @anonymousobxfan @gotmeinloveagain @chicagoblackhawkslover96 @lexi-writes @classydragonthingknight @belongtoyou-u @badbussylol @savannah-elliott @angelreyesgirl100 @haterpenny @beehappyyy @alwaysclassyeagle @maybankslut @kayleea122 @clearbolts @lovelyxtom @christianaevans @jemimah-b99 @opierdalacz @dangerdolns @wildflowerliv @classygirlything21 @pogueslandia 

[hyunjilicious]

I just read what is and what should never be and it was PHENOMENAL! I love everything you write anyway so I was wondering if you could do a small one where Bucky is alone and depressed and he calls yn because he feels lost and she is just there for him? No worries if you can't! I love you anyway 💕

Omg!! You’re too sweet! I really wanted to do this one justice, but I suck at angst... I love you too!! and I’m sorry if this sucks!

Summary: after the events of Endgame, you and Bucky part ways. Even though you haven’t spoken in months, when he needs you, you’re there ANGST 2.2k

Warnings: overall angsty vibes. Sad Bucky. Idk depictions of depression I guess? shitty writing!

“You came” Bucky's surprised tone pulled you out of your thoughts.

Before saying anything else, you shook your head in disbelief. From certain points of view, he looked exactly the same as when you last saw him months ago, but if you looked past his rugged exterior, it was very easy to tell something was truly eating away at his heart.

“Of course I came” you frowned, “You called me”

“Thought you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore” Bucky mumbled.

You looked him up and down, thoroughly confused by his statement, but decided to keep the tone of the conversation from going too dark too fast. “Shut up, Barnes” you scoffed, “Don’t even joke about that.” A hint of a smile appeared at the corner of his lips, but it was forced, you could easily tell he wasn’t truly being himself. “What’s up?”

Bucky took a deep breath as if gathering the courage to word his thoughts. When his eyes met yours he flinched, the pain clouding his otherwise bright blue eyes. He started with a long sigh and a shake of his head but then, cringed as he finally spoke up. “I need help”

His confession went directly to the pit of your stomach. “What happened? Whatever it is, you got it, but what-”

“Nothing happened” Bucky stopped you, “I need help”

“I don’t understand”

“I need someone to-” he sighed, closing his eyes as his head fell forward in what could only be described as shame, “I need someone to talk to” and it was funny, considering he just walked out of his psychiatrist’s office. “Someone that’s not paid to listen to me” he added, “Someone who understands”

It was moments like these that you truly wished Steve was still here. Or Nat. Your best friends, yes, but they were the glue that held you all together, and now in their absence, you were all threatening to fall apart. 

But of course you’d be there for Bucky. Whatever he needed you were more than eager to provide, but at the same time, you were fully aware that your capabilities were limited. You didn’t lack the understanding or the experience, but you lacked the words. You had the sympathy, but not the advice he needed. But you were there. Like you have always been and always will be, so, that afternoon you ended up on his living room floor.

Surrounded by empty bottles of alcohol that had no effect on either of you whatsoever, you sat and listened to him rant his heart out until his throat couldn’t take it anymore. And then he broke down - completely. A full on mess, tears staining his cheeks as the temperature dropped in the room with every other pained groan he’d release. But he let it all out and the weight he had been carrying on his shoulder was unimaginable. There were too many things eating away at his heart, but the guilt was what kept him under its spell, what kept him up for the last months, what was physically destroying him.

“Y/n... “ he called for you, face hidden in his hands as he spoke, “I know you’re gonna say no, but-”

“No,” you stopped him, “Then don’t ask me”

“Please”

“No, Bucky” you sighed, grabbing his wrist so you could look him in the eyes, “If you already know it’s a bad idea, please don’t tell me because I’m afraid I’ll actually go through with it right now”

“But i can’t fucking sleep!” he cried out loud, falling back against the couch, arms propped up on his knees, “I keep having the same nightmares over and over again, and I can’t take it anymore”

“You don’t-” you took a deep breath, “You don’t want me to erase your mind, do you?”

The look in his eyes proved that that was exactly what he wanted. And the unshed tears that coated the otherwise pure and radiant blue of his eyes was almost enough to convince you.

“Please-” he begged, “I-”

“No, Buck” you shook your head and shuffled to face him properly, “As time passes, it’s only gonna get worse. The past will eventually catch up to you. You’ll want to know what you did”

He didn’t have it in him to fight you, so silence settled for a while. “You know sedatives don’t work on me?”

“I… never thought about it, but that makes sense”

Bucky gathered his lips into a tight line and nodded his head.

“Lady shrink isn’t of any help?” you asked.

“I have no clue what she’s doing” he shrugged, “Maybe it’s good in the long run, but fuck if I know how she expects me to make any kind of progress right now”

“You are, tho” you reassured him, “Making progress I mean”

“Am I?” Bucky laughed incredulously.

“Yes! You’re almost completely on your own feet. You really pushed through”

“Or maybe I’m just ignoring all of my problems”

“You just told me about them” you chuckled, and threw an arm over his shoulders.

Hesitatingly at first, he eventually leaned in into your hold, allowing himself to completely fall against your chest. “I hate this”

“I think that’s a given” you laughed, curling your fingers around the roots of his way too short hair. “A wise man once said that whenever someone acts like they have their shit together, they’re either lying or delusional”

“Who said that?”

“I don’t know” you confessed, “I saw that on the internet”

For the first time that night, you actually heard him laugh, and it sounded so good - it was short and weak, but it was sweet and honest. “That’s a pathetic attempt at cheering me up, but I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it” Bucky said as he pushed himself up.

“I wish I could do more” you mumbled, “But I don’t know what, or how, but-”

“Thank you”

“You don’t have to thank me, you know that” you smiled.

He didn’t know that. He’d never stop thanking you for even the smallest gestures. The day where Bucky would understand that kindness, in some cases, is a given, was far away, but you had the patience and determination to work for it.

As you talked and talked, and the topic of conversation kept shifting from one area to the other, the sun set, night settling outside his small windows. It was time for you to leave, and you would’ve done it, had he asked you not to at the last second.

You had your shoes on and one hand on the door handle, when he stumbled over his words, obviously too shy to properly hold his ground. “Actually can you- can you-” he mumbled, pointing to his couch, “Can you stay here tonight?”

And of course you did. The night didn’t last much longer after that, with Bucky settling on the floor, only a blanket to keep him company, and you sprawled out on the couch as silence settled.

But your mind was too busy to drift off. You knew his’ was too, but decided to refrain from speaking up, hoping to let him fall asleep, even for a short while.

It was loud inside your head. You always promised yourself you’d never intrude on someone’s thoughts and read through them without their approval, but you physically felt Bucky radiate energy, and your mind just slipped. But then, your heart almost stopped.

You saw yourself. You saw yourself slapping him back in Wakanda when he decided to go under ice again, you saw yourself moving a car out of his way back in Bucharest, when you risked your life for his because you trusted Steve that much, and because you were that good of a friend. You saw yourself at Tony’s funeral, eyes shiny with tears and then felt an almost uncontrollable urge to hug yourself - and then realised it wasn’t your urge, it was Bucky’s. At this point, your heart beat so fast you were actually afraid he’d hear it. But when goosebumps appeared all over your skin, you realised he couldn’t hear you, that he was asleep and that the nightmares started materializing. 

What convinced you to act on it was the sudden jerk of his body and the way to fully tensed instantly after. So, unable to just sit and watch, you rolled over to the side and allowed your hand to fall by his temple, little specks of light rolling off the tips of your fingers as you forced the thoughts away. Seconds later, you saw him relax and shift around, gathering the blanket he laid on to his chest as he drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

His relaxed form and the steady pace of his breathing put a smile on your face. But you made the mistake of thinking this was a one time thing, however, before you realised, you found yourself leaning over him again, ushering yet another wave of nightmares away. And it kept being an ongoing process until the sun rose, and you cursed yourself as you did not get one second of shut eye. But it was worth it. The sight of him finally resting, knowing he spent his night in his happy place that you this time did not intrude on, made up for your tiredness. 

When Bucky drifted out of his deep sleep, you figured it was safe to relax too. But knowing that if you went to sleep right now you wouldn’t wake up until noon, you stood up, determined to give him the full best friend experience.

But all you found in his kitchen was a box of stale cereal, a soft cucumber and candy wrappers. Had he not looked so adorable sleeping shirtless and curled into a ball on the floor, you would have woken him up yelling. But instead, you decided to order some food, and the simple fact that the sound of the delivery guy ringing the doorbell didn’t wake him up, actually terrified you. With a life like yours, no one sleeps that deeply, but then there he was, snoring away the late hours of the morning. 

By the time he finally stirred awake, the food was already cold, and you were bored out of your mind. “What- what time is it?” he mumbled, voice rich with sleep.

“A little bit past 2” you yawned from your spot on the couch.

“2 pm?” Bucky huffed, sitting up in a hurry and rushing to grab his phone. “What the-” he turned to you confused, “It’s 2pm…”

“Yeah” you sighed, “And the food is cold”

“Food?” Bucky gawked, looking over at the small table by the window, “You got food?”

“You didn’t have any” you defended yourself. You wanted to scold him for not taking better care of himself, but he looked so homey and cozy and vulnerable, that you couldn’t bring yourself to.

Eventually, you stood up and walked over to him. “I’ll let you eat, Buck, but I gotta go” you sighed, giving him a hug, “Got some stuff to do” you lied, by stuff meaning sleep, since you were exhausted.

“Yeah, of course” he mumbled in agreement, wrapping his arms around your frame, and bringing you closer. He sank his head into the crook of your neck, holding you to his chest for a moment longer than you would have considered friendly. But you didn’t complain, his hold was stern and loving, and you really needed that right now. “Thank you” Bucky added when he finally let you go. His right palm cupped your cheek as he looked down at you, awe and admiration in his eyes.

“Nothing to thank me for, Buck” you smiled, and then pulled away.

He silently watched you get ready to leave, following you around until you reached the door and turned around to say goodbye. And it was weird. Your heart boomed against your ribcage, and you didn’t have to read his thoughts to know he was feeling the same kind of nervous. And it may have been the one too many stories you read but you actually feared something was going to happen. Thankfully, it didn’t. Instead you shared another hug, and parted ways.

However, all you managed to do was reach the staircase before you heard his door open, followed by the sound of his bare feet sprinting down the hallway. “What are you-”

“Can you stay?” he asked, shaking from head to toe, “In New York I mean, can you please stay? Just a few more days”

“Well, I- yeah, I guess I can” you mumbled.

“I just, I need a few more days. You’re screwing my head back on, I just need you now. Steve is gone, and Sam is all the way in Louisiana and I hate phones and I-”

“Wow-” you laughed, “I’m not even the second choice, I’m the third?”

“Shut up, Y/n” Bucky frowned, “Stop being a smartass for a second”

“I’m sorry” you rolled your eyes, but he didn’t care.

In the blink of an eye, Bucky threw his arms around your shoulders and hugged you close, and you weren’t sure if the ‘I love you’ that echoed inside your mind had actually been spoken or just thought, but it was everything you never knew you needed.

[valwentinefics]

I’m not sure if you’re still taking Zemo x reader requests but the idea Zemo breaking out of prison and going straight to see the person who he loves (who may or may not be an avenger/ex avenger who isn’t too pleased to see him but begrudgingly takes him in) lives in my head rent free.👀

A/n: I hope you like it! Although I really enjoyed writing it I find it a bit unnecessarily dramatic and sappy but hey its free!

Over him - Helmut Zemo x Reader

You were over Helmut Zemo. At least that’s what you kept telling yourself. It was like a mantra you repeated during your day, reminding yourself to not long for his touch and caring words. Even though you still lived in his house and lived off of his large wealth, you insisted you were over him. It wasn’t your choice, you just had to be. He was locked away with no chance of getting out, it was the only way you would be able to cope with the pain of losing him and end the sleepless tear filled nights. You had to be over him.

Ever since he was locked up your days were mundane and endless, your schedule was practically nonexistent except for your bi-weekly shopping trips. If you weren’t in such denial over your lingering love for Zemo you’d say you were dealing with a heartbreak that never seemed to lose its edge despite the years. Even now, as you laid down in the backyard on an old towel, soaking up the sun and enjoying the warm weather, you felt an emptiness you couldn’t quite describe. Honestly it was hard to describe your feelings in general since Zemo had been arrested, every emotion had the added feeling of emptiness and heartbreak that you didn’t want to admit you felt to it.

Your romance with Zemo had been unexpected. You were the only Avenger to stay behind and clean up Sokovia despite being powerless, which was where you met him trapped under some rubble. You were the one who had offered to help him find his family and the one to comfort him when they found their bodies. You had quit the Avengers soon after, not wanting to take part in any more destruction. You two had stayed in contact after the Sokovia incident, romance finding its way into both of your hearts through phone calls and letters. You had moved over to his house quite soon after he had nervously asked to make your relationship official and everything seemed to be going great, until you turned on the news to find out he had been behind the bombing and the issues with the Avengers. 

You used to write to him after the shock of what had happened wore off, your love managing to still live on inside of you despite his misdeeds. Your letters to him started off long and hopeful but soon became short before dying out altogether. You longed to speak to him deep down, but your pride and insistence that you didn’t have feelings for him anymore prevented you from seeking out contact with him. What was the point? He was never getting out, and his actions with the Avengers was a big betrayal you had never felt before.

The ringing of a doorbell faintly reached your ears through the nearby open door. You entered the house and tossed on an old long sweater over your bathing suit clad body before opening the front door, coming face to face with the man you had sworn you no longer loved. Held in his hands was a bouquet of your favourite flowers and the smile you used to adore was on his face. Stationed behind him were two people you had only heard of but never met in person, Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes which only added to your confused state.

“Liebling-” He began, interrupted by you quickly moving to shut the door, only for it to be stopped by his foot. “May I please enter my house?”

You hesitated, a scowl on your face. Why was he out here with an Avenger and the guy he had framed for a bombing? Why was he out at all? As much as you wanted to slam the door in his face and pretend it never happened, your heart and knowledge that this was his house and that he had every right to be in there took over and you opened the door for him. “Let me get changed.” You sighed.

-

You exited your room after getting dressed to Zemo seated on the couch, his two companions nowhere to be found. He stood up as soon as he saw you, walking over to you, but you ignored him and headed to the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of water, many thoughts swirling in your head. Deep down you knew your feelings for him never left, and you wished to run into his arms and tell him how hard life had been without him around, but your mind stopped you. How could you possibly run back to him after everything that had happened.

“I assume you want to know why I’m here.” He began with an exhale, looking into your eyes nervously while you drank your water.

“Don’t care.” You replied curtly, your eyes not breaking contact with his. You turned away from him and took the flowers from the counter he had placed them on and found a vase, silently filling it up with water and placing the flowers in it, the silence awkwardly consumed the both of you.

“Look, Liebling, I know you’re upset-”

You cut him off with a scoff, spinning around to face him. “Upset? Why would I be upset? It’s not like my boyfriend decided to go try and make my friends kill each other while I played housewife for him, unaware of everything that was going on until the bastard got himself locked up!” 

“I have made some mistakes, but I had assumed you would be happier to see me. You were all I thought about while locked away.” There was a bit of hurt in his voice that pained you to hear, but you kept your stern appearance, staring him down mercilessly.

“I’ve moved on.” You replied, your voice cracking as you said it. You didn’t know why the tears began to prick your eyes as you said that. You had repeated it in your head many times, why was it bothering you know? Perhaps it was because you saw the way Zemo’s eyes widened at the three words, or maybe it was because speaking it out loud added a bit of permanency to the statement, but god it hurt you.

“You don’t mean that Schatz…” He stated in disbelief. “I can see it in your eyes, you love me… do not tell me that you have moved on when we both know it’s a lie.” His hand reached to touch your arm and you jerked it away. 

“I-” Your heart shattered staring at the man before you. “I can’t love you.” You confessed, your feelings spilling out as you filled with guilt for what you had said. As much as Zemo tried not to let things get to him, you knew your words had, and it hurt you to see him be affected by them. He had trusted you with his softer side, with his heart, and with three words you had spat on it. “You’ll just be taken away again.” You looked away, tears threatening to spill.

“Y/n, look at me please.” He requested and you obliged, searching his face for some kind of indication about what he was about to say. “I cannot promise you I won’t have to leave you again, but mein Schatz I can promise you I’ll always love you. You’re the one thing I have left and I cannot bear to lose you too. The thought of you kept me going every day. I tried to write to you but I could not think of the words to describe how much I missed you and longed for your touch or the sound of your laughter.” 

You couldn’t stop the tears that fell down your face, your resolve crumbling to pieces. You couldn’t lie to yourself any longer, you loved him more than you needed to breathe. “Helmut, I couldn’t handle being apart from you, every day was filled with me longing to see you day and night. But you manipulated my friends and betrayed my trust, then I was left alone with no warning. I know that I love you Helmut, I just don’t know if I should feel that way.”

 “You love me, I love you, there’s nothing more important than that. Why waste your time worrying about what you should feel instead of enjoying what you do feel?” He asked, his hands cupping your cheeks. “We cannot tell what the future will hold for us but we can enjoy the present.”

His words struck a chord within you. You were done trying to cover up your feelings, instead you decided to relish in the company of your lover while you still had the chance. “Do you think the future will be kind to us? Will we get a happy ending?” Your eyes searched his for any indication of what was going to come next in your lives. 

Zemo’s eyes looked into yours with a tender gaze. “I cannot tell you what the future holds, but I can tell you I’ll fight for a happy ending.” And you believed him. You loved Helmut Zemo once more.

[bts-hyperfixation]

Soulmates

JJK X Reader soulmate AU

Warnings: Minor character death(car crash, only mentioned nothing graphic), Drinking

I don’t know if this is what you (the requester) were going for? this is somehow where I ended up

Everyone in this world has a soulmate. Someone that is meant to complete them and make them feel whole.

Your other half can be identified by the matching birthmark hidden somewhere on their body. There are also a lot of people whose marks are so close to matching that it almost feels like the real thing… almost. Sadly, many don’t ever get to experience the love of their true soulmate, so they settle for the closest they can get.

Jungkook was convinced he was one of the lucky few. Looking at her made his heart feel like it was going to burst. Every time he saw her the world got brighter, the birds started singing a little louder, and his stress nearly melted away entirely … nearly. But at 17 no one is going to pay attention to nearly.

Their birthmark’s matched so closely, each sporting a small puzzle piece on opposite wrists. You wouldn’t even bat an eyelid at the loved-up pair as they walked together hand in hand. And he loved her so completely, and her him, that they never thought to question it. Madly in love until the day she died.

Jungkook spent weeks almost comatose when the news of her car crash reached him. Couldn’t move, eat, sleep. To lose your soulmate so young was said to be a fate worse than never finding them at all. Even after coming through the other side people could tell he wasn’t the same carefree young boy he had been, most likely never would be again. His eyes’ looked far older than his years now, his soft features much more angular.

Three months after her death he resolve to never fall in love again, happy in the knowledge that he got to know her even for such a short amount of time.

….

You met Jungkook at a party. Someone from Uni decided that 24 was the right age for a big birthday bash. They hired out an entire club and set up a series of activities for people to enjoy. A mechanical ball on the main floor, a ball pit to the side, a BBQ in the smoking area, and a bouncy castle in the downstairs 90’s themed area. It really was an amazing event. You however spent most of your time watching the quiet Korean boy in the corner, every time his eyes met yours you felt compelled to move to him, talk to him, dance with him, anything that would get his attention on you. At the time you put it down to the alcohol. It took you exactly 3 and a half drinks to pick up the courage and interrupt his current conversation.

He was very sweet, really sweet considering he clearly didn’t want to be talking to you. It was evident in the way his eyes shifted and the nervous playing with his sleeves, still you persevered. Something about him wouldn’t let you give up, not yet at least. Your saving grace came when your favourite band came blaring over the speakers. “PRETTYMUCH” aren’t an underrated band per say but it’s difficult to find someone who knows them in your circle, so when Jungkook’s face lit up at the same time as yours you knew you had your in. So with the Phases remix blaring through the club you took your opportunity.

“I love this song!” You took his hand and pulled him on to the dance floor before you really realised that’s what you are doing. To start with he was frozen, a little shocked by your boldness, but as you gave it your all he joined in, loosening up for the first time that entire night. After that it was a lot easier to talk to him, you actually went into the smoking area to talk more about shared music interests.

After you went to get a drink you got caught up with some others and he came to find you. It felt like an electric shock when he’d grabbed your hand to get your attention, but there were a lot of balloons around so that would explain the residual electricity. By the time the party was over, and the club was closing, you didn’t want to leave him, not just now but ever. You found yourselves wandering around aimlessly, talking about nothing until the sun came up. Looking back it was then you decided Jungkook was it for you. You had never really believed in the soulmate tradition until you met him.

Weeks go by of you texting back and forth. You found out the reason he was so into music was because he was a musician himself, he even promised to perform for you sometime. A lot of promises were made in those messages.

‘There’s this amazing Restaurant in the city’ you claimed promising to take him with you next time.

‘I really want to see this movie’ he said promising to pay for tickets when it came out.

‘We should go see this band together’ The number one promise between the two of you, quickly racking up a lot of different acts to see together.

So when one of those bands turned up on the roster for the local you’d bought tickets immediately sending him the confirmation. Your stomach had fluttered thinking about seeing him in person again. And so you counted down the days as they passed. Picked and repicked your outfit. Talked yourself in and out of going. Eventually the day arrived. The doorbell signalling his arrival was deafening, ringing out through your small studio apartment. You took a few deep breaths before opening the door.

He was flawless, your tipsy memory hadn’t done him justice. A broad chest draped in a white long sleeve tee, ripped skinnies straining against his thighs, his hair swept into a James Dean quiff. You might’ve laughed at the way your outfits had accidently matched (a black crop with white skinnies) had you been capable of making a noise.

“Ready to go?” He asked nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. You’d nodded, blushing when you realised you had been staring.

It was a short bus ride into the town centre. Spent in relatively comfortable silence arms brushing against one another in the limited space on the crowded vehicle. The club was packed wall to wall when you got inside, no hope of getting to the front of the crowd, or so you’d thought. Jungkook grabbed your hand winked at you and began heading in the opposite direction of the stage. He led you up some back stairs and on to a balcony you hadn’t ever noticed before.

“I’ve played here before, almost no one knows this is here, but it will give us the perfect view.” He dropped your hand in favour of leaning over the railing. You couldn’t help but feel cold at the loss. The performance was great, you found yourselves screaming lyrics back and forth at one another. Some people had cottoned on to your little hiding spot and soon it became as packed as the rest of the club. Whether he was trying to protect you from the others or he was pushed there you will never know, but Jungkook ended up caging you to the railing, head resting on your shoulder.

After the show you’d decided it was time to ask him how he felt. The club was still busy, but the two of you had been in a quiet corner on your own nursing drinks and chatting aimlessly.

“Do you believe in soulmates?” You asked, broaching the topic carefully. You watched closely for his reaction, but he gave nothing away. Instead he just shrugged.

“I did once.” It was too blunt, you knew you should’ve stopped but you couldn’t, now you’d decided to tell him it was like verbal diarrhoea.

“I didn’t think I did, I mean I’ve never seen any ‘matching birthmarks’ and every couple I know is perfectly happy… but then I met you and I keep thinking about it, and you, and how I feel about you.” You watched as his face goes from pensive to a deer caught in the headlights.

“I… I have to leave now.” He got up and ran into the crowd before you even had a chance to reach for him. He dipped through a back entrance of the club and into the night before you could even push through the first layer of people.

The ride home had seemed a lot longer. Holding back tears had proved extremely difficult. Of all the reactions he could’ve given you that might’ve been the worst one. Somehow you found yourself thinking even him laughing in your face might’ve been better. You left the lights in your studio switched off that night. Made a beeline for your bed and passed out face down.

It would’ve felt like a bad dream when you woke up… if it hadn’t been for the crusty mascara tracking down your cheeks. You’d picked up your phone from where it lay abandoned next to you. Battery on 12%. You’d decided then it’d be best to run damage control, at least save the friendship.

Y/N: I’m sorry about last night…

You hadn’t expected his reply to be quick, so it’d surprised you when the typing bubbles appeared immediately; and furthered your sadness when they disappeared moments later without a message.

For days you spiralled. Going over the moment again and again in your head. Each replay turning the memory into something worse than the original.

Eventually you plucked yourself out of bed, deciding to face the problem head on and talk to the friend that invited you both to their birthday in the first place.

She met you at a café downtown during her lunch break. It was obvious by your red rimed eyes and sniffling nose that you had been crying but she was nice enough to ignore it for the most part. You caught up on her life for a little while until you physically couldn’t hold back anymore.

You told her exactly what had happened between you and JK, watching as her expression got both more understanding and pitying as you got closer to the end. Whatever you thought she was going to tell you was no where close to the story you got. You sat mouth wide open as she told you about the accident, and the way it affected Jungkook. It made you want to cry all over again. You didn’t know what to say once she had finished, stewing in your own thoughts for a while. The main thought that kept coming to the front of your mind was one that made you feel so evil. But you had to get it out

“What if she wasn’t really his soulmate. What if he was never meant for her” Its barely above a whisper but your friend heard it.

“He truly believes that she was” She replied squinting at you. Her break ended shortly after that leaving you alone with your thoughts.

…

It’s almost a month later when you see Jungkook again. Hadn’t heard a single thing from him since the concert but at least you knew why.

This time it was someone pool party. You honestly hadn’t been expecting to see him there. Didn’t even know you had mutual friends past that one girl. You didn’t think twice about your birthmark when you stripped down to your two piece. Why would you? Everyone has one. You were lay out on a sun-lounger with a drink when you spotted him. Tucked away in a corner once again, the only difference this time was his attention was already on you. He looked as good as ever, hair damp and slicked back, Long-sleeved neoprene shit covering his torso but trunks showing off his amazing thighs. You’d forced yourself to look away form him but could still feel the intensity of his gaze on you.

Eventually you couldn’t take it anymore, too hot under the sun and his stare you decided to change out of your swimsuit into a sundress for the evening. Heading inside you found your way into someone’s bedroom to get changed. Perhaps you should’ve checked to see if the door the locked though, because just as you had wiggled out of the bikini top Jungkook burst into the room.

“Ah shit… Sorry… I um.” His hand had flown in front of his eyes as he’d slammed the door shut behind him and you’d immediately reached for the flimsy dress pulling it over you torso so he could reopen his eyes.

“What in the actual fuck Jungkook?” you whisper screamed not wanting to draw attention to the two of you hidden away.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I didn’t think… I just needed to see…”

“See what?! My boobs? I think you managed that one perv. You haven’t spoken to me in weeks and now all of a sudden you can’t wait long enough to knock.” You came across a lot meaner than you had meant, you just hadn’t been prepared for him to want to speak to you again.

“No I’m sorry I’ll go, this was a bad idea, I was probably seeing things anyway.” He mumbled looking sheepishly at the floor/

“No wait it’s okay, I really want to apologise don’t leave.” You took a deep breath and waited for his eyes to meet yours properly. When they did you could see the shock behind them.

“Why do you need to apologise? I’m the one that ran off, I never even told you why and I fucked up and I’m sorry I just…” You reached for him then, wanting nothing more than to comfort him and then realised it wasn’t your place, arm dropping heavily back to your side. “I felt so guilty with you, not because of you, because of me.” You nodded in understanding.

“I found about your soulmate after I confessed to you. I’m so sorry I didn’t know. I never would’ve brought it up if I had known you had already found yours.” You’d broken eye contact with him then unable to watch the sadness in his eyes and not be able to do anything about it.

“That’s why I felt so guilty though because the way I feel about you is so similar to the way I felt about her, how I still feel about her deep down. I was so confused because you’re only supposed to get one soulmate, and if I could feel the same way about you in such a short time… it just feels like I’m betraying her by loving you.” He stepped forward reaching for your chin and forced you to meet his gaze. “The today when I saw your birthmark on your thigh I could’ve cried.” He uses his free hand to unzip the shirt he’d been wearing. He pulled his left arm from the sleeve exposing his birthmark to you. A puzzle piece to fit perfectly into your own.

You’d gasped at the revelation you were right. He was meant to be yours. And yet it didn’t feel right. The anguish on his face was clear, the internal fight he had obviously been having with himself ever since the concert.

“Letting yourself love me now doesn’t mean you loved her any less” you whispered, allowing yourself to move even closer to him, wrapping him in your arms. He’d nuzzled into your neck allowing tears to stream down his cheeks and onto your shoulder. You’d felt every bit of stress leave his body as he cried. Emotions he hadn’t even know he had been holding onto, finally letting himself really breath since he had lost her all those years ago.

You’d lost track of the time, just stood with him, holding him until the final few sniffles came. His cheeks had been puffy by and red when he pulled away, wiping his face on the sleeve still on his right arm.

“Do you want to leave? We can go back to mine” You’d asked carefully, not willing to let him go home alone after feeling like that. He’d nodded weakly, sliding his arm back into the shirt before taking your hand in his. You’d headed for the door only to be brought back by the hand he had on yours. He’d pulled you so close you could see the flecks of gold in his irises, watched your reaction before leaning in and kissing you. It was salty with left over tears, but you wouldn’t change you first kiss for the world. Everything felt like it clicked into place in that moment, the world tilted on its axis. The exchange was short lived, a chaste peck followed by a few smaller pecks before he let you lead him all the way home.

Masterlist

[snowywrites]

Doki Doki Literature Club Girls x Reader

summary: you spend the day at the amusement park with the rest of the Literature Club! (it's recommended to read these together in order because they are connected, but if you prefer then you can read just whichever one you want to. Reader is intended to be female.)

full word count: 7.7k

Sayori

It was a gorgeous Saturday morning in town. The sun was shining high overhead in the pale blue sky, but the fluffy white clouds drifting by here and there were enough to ensure that it wasn't too hot. There also happened to be a nice, soothing breeze out, you note to yourself as you gaze out your open window to the neighborhood. A perfectly lovely day.

Well. That was enough of that, you muse to yourself as you slide your window closed again and pull the curtains in front of it to avoid any of the cheery sunshine washing into your room- it created an awful glare off of your computer screen which made it hard to watch your anime.

Content with your decision to stay inside today and catch up on your favorite shows, you walk over to sit down at your desk and turn on your computer. That's as far as you get before the doorbell rings, however.

You ignore it for now, assuming someone else in the house will go answer it. Then you suppress a groan of frustration when you recall that you're home alone for the better part of the day, a big reason why you had set the date aside to stay indoors and enjoy some peace, quiet, relaxation, and anime.

The doorbell rings again and again, much more insistent now; it almost could be playing a song of some kind. "I'm coming!" You call as if the visitor can hear you, grudgingly hopping up and hurrying downstairs. The doorbell just keeps ringing, and you don't even check the peephole to see who it is before you open up because the sound is really starting to grate on your nerves and you just need it to stop as soon as possible.

Your neighbor and somewhat-best-friend Sayori is standing there, and she looks a little shocked to see you, despite this being your house. She slowly presses the doorbell one last time, and you resist the urge to sigh heavily.

"Hi, Sayori. What's up?" You question. It's been a minute since you two have visited outside of the Literature Club, so you're making an effort not to act as annoyed as you feel for being so rudely disrupted. She could have at least texted a message saying she was going to be dropping by- then again, this was Sayori. Odds were, she had been walking by heading to the store or something and spotted your home, causing her to make the impulsive decision to bug you.

Her eyes brighten and a wide smile replaces her startled expression. "Hey, Y/N! It's Saturday!"

You stare at her for a moment. "Uhm...yeah, it is." You aren't entirely sure what she's expecting from you- maybe an invitation to come inside? Sayori's sort of a pain to watch movies or shows with, though. She's such a chatterbox and can't really focus on one thing for long at all, so whenever she does tune back in, she's got a million dumb questions that she'd know the answer to if only she'd bothered to pay attention. Nonetheless, you offer, "Did you wanna hang out? I was about to watch some anime, and you can join me, if you'd like."

Your words don't seem to come as any shock to Sayori, and she shakes her head firmly. "Y/N! I figured you were shutting yourself up in here. It's seriously a nice day, let's get out and have some fun!"

So much for compromising! And you'd even been trying to be nice, sheesh. "But I-" You frowned, trying to come up with an excuse for why you couldn't go out today, eventually settling on the truth since it was easiest. "I was just looking forward to some downtime, maybe next time though, okay?"

Instantly Sayori is pouting, acting like the exact same little kid you first met years ago rather than the almost-adult she was. "We've had this talk before, I don't want you becoming a total NEET! You can watch your shows tomorrow, but we really should enjoy this day, I bet it's gonna rain tomorrow! I mean, the rain is fun too, but-"

You're visibly defeated. "Okay, okay, lemme just grab some money. What'd you have in mind?"

Instead of calming down now that she's gotten her way, Sayori gives an excited little bounce, clapping her hands together. "Thanks, Y/N!" She grins at you, radiating warmth and energy. "I was thinking the amusement park!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The amusement park was in town for another few days, and you had yet to go to it, but you doubted you were missing out on much. It was crowded with people, as expected, and you recognized a lot of other people from your school even in their casual clothes. It made you absently wonder if any of the other girls in the Literature Club were here today...

"Hey, did you hear me?"

Sayori's voice shakes you out of your thoughts, and you look over at her. "Oh, sorry. What'd you say?"

She doesn't seem upset in the slightest. "I said, we have to go on the roller coaster!" She points excitedly across the park where you can see the top of the coaster. A lot of screams and a long line are in that direction, and you do your best not to look nervous.

"R-Roller coaster? Isn't there anything else you want to do first?" Trust Sayori to immediately pick the biggest attraction in the place. You're a tad surprised she isn't already hungry, to be honest, though you two did just enter the park.

"Coaster first!" Insists your best friend, taking your hand and beginning to drag you off towards the ride in spite of your clear hesitance. "And then probably food! I'd hate to get sick, you know?"

You can't help but smile. It was likely the most responsible thing you'd ever heard Sayori say, and one which you were grateful for considering you two would obviously be sitting next to each other. It helps you to relax a little bit too, but as you join the line with her, you can feel your anxiety starting to mount yet again the closer and closer you get.

Sayori is chattering away, but you're trying to block her out because she's babbling about all sorts of things. You wonder suddenly if she's trying to distract you...but quickly brush that assumption away. It would be nice, but Sayori just tended to talk a lot all the time, this wasn't new.

After what feels like much too short of a time, it's your turn to ride the roller coaster. Fear grips you, much as you don't want to admit it. You shoot a panicked glance at Sayori, who was humming cheerfully to herself. She meets your gaze, and her hum falters, tapering off. She gives you a reassuring and oddly quiet smile, taking your hand. It's different than before, when she'd been pulling you through the park. This time, her grip is steady but not demanding, allowing you to pull away if you wanted to do so. It's also possibly the only time you can recall ever seeing your best friend look so...shy.

It's more comforting than anything she could've said, and you give her hand a squeeze to thank her. The two of you enter the roller coaster in seats next to each other, and a worker comes along to help the two of you strap in properly. Your heart feels like it's about to burst out of your chest, and you're assuming it's just because of the roller coaster adrenaline, nothing more.

The ride starts and you close your eyes shut tight, keeping a death grip on Sayori now; you can hear her breathless and excited laughter even through the sounds of the other riders screaming and whooping. Many twists and turns, sometimes slow and sometimes fast yet always nerve-wracking, and a particularly terrifying drop-off later, and the ride is over.

You blink open your eyes, stunned to realize you're still in once piece, and leap out of the coaster as soon as possible, tearing your hand out of Sayori's. She doesn't seem all that worried about it, fortunately. She climbs out onto the solid and safe ground next to you, and you bite back a giggle. Her hair is so crazy and windswept and sticking out in all directions from the ride, but then you figure yours probably is too, and self-consciously try to pat it down.

Unlike you, Sayori doesn't appear concerned with her appearance, her cheeks flushed with delight and invigoration, not embarrassment. "That was so much fun!" She cheers, spinning around you as if she still had too much energy to contain. Then she paused, practically glowing as she looked at you and you only had a heartbeat to notice that she was very close in your personal space. "Thank you so much for coming with me, Y/N."

It was such a genuine and vulnerable statement that you were briefly at a loss for words, trying to read the uncharacteristically intense emotions shining in your friend's blue eyes. "I- it was, sure, it was a lot of fun, Sayori..." You trail off awkwardly, stepping back a pace to escape the close proximity.

Sayori opens her mouth to say something else, but a gasp comes out first as her attention fixes on something behind you. "Can you buy me some pizza? Pleeeeaaaaseeeee? Pretty please?! I'm really hungry now!"

The moment is over with that, and you wince at her childish request. "Pizza sounds good," you relent, causing Sayori to squeal with excitement and rush off to the food stand. You're giving in a lot today, and you aren't sure why, honestly. It wasn't like this was more fun than staying home and watching your favorite shows, right? Although, you did enjoy Sayori's company. There was a reason she was your kind-of-best-friend after all.

Oh, well. You can think about it later. For now you might as well try to have a nice time while you were still here. You follow after your puppy-like friend, spotting her at one of the tables just outside of the food stand talking with someone sitting there. With a start, you recognize the violet long hair of your fellow clubmate, Yuri.

Approaching, you start to greet them, but Sayori interrupts you before you can. "Yeah, Y/N/'s here too!" She pointed at you brightly, and Yuri tenses up, looking up at you like a deer in the headlights, which confuses you. Yuri had seemed perfectly calm before now- sure, a little shy, but now she was the stuttering and nervous girl that you were most familiar with from the Literature Club.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Yuri

You smile, giving a tiny wave. "Hey there, Yuri." Of all the people you might have expected to see here at the amusement park, Yuri was perhaps at the bottom of the list. You would have assumed she would be like you on a Saturday, preferring to stay at home. Except she would be reading novels or writing most likely, not watching anime or reading manga.

You're partly right, because on the table in front of Yuri is an open book instead of anything to eat. How she was able to focus with all the conversation of groups of people swarming around, you had no idea.

"Y/N," whined Sayori after Yuri just gave you a slight nod of greeting, "My pizzaaaaa, please?"

You laugh, waving her away. "I'm going, I'm going, hush! Yuri, did you want anything?" You offered politely.

Your clubmate seems to shrink in on herself, allowing her long dark hair to fall so that it hid her face from your view a bit. "Ah-! Uhm, that's okay, thank you, though." Sometimes you weren't sure how she could write just long and beautifully-worded poems when she seemed to struggle so much with the simplest of phrases spoken outloud.

You accept this and go to buy yourself and Sayori a slice of pizza each, and end up buying Yuri a sweet tea too just because, well, you would feel weird and rude to eat in front of someone else if they didn't have anything. You make your way back over to the table where Sayori is talking to Yuri, her arms flailing around in wild gestures, and you get the suspicion that she's telling Yuri all about the roller coaster ride. Quick to intervene, you set the tray with the food and drinks down on the table, leaning towards Sayori threateningly. "What exactly are you talking about?" You inquire sharply, eyes narrowed.

Sheepishly, Sayori swipes one of the plates with pizza on it to take a bite and shrug, using the food as an excuse not to reply.

Huffing, you distribute the stuff you bought between the three of you, turning to Yuri to protect your reputation. "For the record, I was totally not scared," you promised her.

Yuri is slightly more comfortable now, you think, and there's a tiny glimmer of faint amusement and sympathy in her violet eyes. "I believe you," she murmurs back, so quietly that you almost were unable to catch that. She blinks at the drink that you placed in front of her, apparently having to take a second to process what it meant. And then, completely the opposite of Sayori, her head snapped towards you and her gaze was now wide. "Oh-! You- thank you, Y/N, but- you really, didn't have to, go through the trouble...!"

You tuck into your meal, taking your time in replying while Sayori scarfs down her own food, curiously glancing between you and Yuri as if studying the interaction. "It's no worries," you say after a short while. "I would've felt bad otherwise since me and Sayori have something." You turn your attention to the forgotten book in front of Yuri. "Sorry if we bothered you, by the way! We didn't mean to interrupt your reading or anything."

Sayori bobbed her head in an enthusiastic agreement since her mouth was full and she couldn't say anything.

Once again, you worried that you'd said the wrong thing because Yuri's reaction was much the same as the last time you'd said anything. "That's- that's okay, really! It wasn't, important, and I was..." She seems to give up, seeming helpless and frustrated with herself, only able to take a sip of her drink in defeat.

Sayori finished with her food, standing up abruptly. "Thanks, Y/N!" She chirps, apparently not effected by your and Yuri's awkwardness. "I'm gonna go check out some other stuff, so you should have fun with Yuri!"

Her words catch you off guard, and before you can react or suggest the three of you find something to do together, Sayori is already racing off somewhere, waving over her shoulder at the two of you. You watch as she slams into someone as she wasn't paying any attention to where she was going, and shake your head as she profusely apologizes to them. "Oh, Sayori," you sigh a little dramatically to Yuri. "What are we gonna do with her?"

The other girl bites her lip like she's trying to hold back a laugh. "It's nice that you look after her," she speaks up quietly.

"Ah- I mean, somebody has to, right?" You chuckle to yourself as you resume eating.

Yuri is fine with silence, which doesn't really surprise you. She opens her book back up and starts to read after a minute or two, and you're content too to just finish up your pizza and do some people-watching.

Eventually when you do finish, you throw away your trash and then rejoin Yuri, who's politely closing her book again and standing up as well. She's calmer now, as if reading and not having to engage in conversation for a little bit has recharged her, which you're happy for. "Uhm..." She begins timidly. "Would you like to walk around the park with me?"

You aren't used to Yuri initiating anything at all, and in the space of your bewilderment, she hurriedly continues, "It's okay if you'd rather not-! I only thought..it might be fun, but I understand if..." The last part is more of a mumble.

"Sure, Yuri, I'd love to!" You try to reassure her as smoothly and swiftly as you can in order to avoid hurting her feelings any further or even risking her fleeing. Yuri was such a sweet person, and you'd never want to say no to her and have to see her awfully sad expression, you reflect. "We can head...that way." You pick a random direction and start walking, Yuri following you meekly. She walks near you, but also just a step or two behind, and when you try to slow down so you guys can actually walk together, she stops altogether. Deciding you can't do anything about it for now, you continue the trek, absently looking around at the various stands, games, and rides as you pass them. "I wasn't expecting to run into you here, to be honest," you comment.

Yuri's silent for a beat, causing you to wonder if she was even going to say anything back to that. She finally does, thankfully. "Admittedly, this isn't the sort of place I might usually spend a weekend at." Her words are low and carefully-chosen as usual, like she's cursed to overthink even the barest minimum of small talk. "But my parents insisted I come here."

An amused smile quirks up your lips as you glance back at her. "So you brought a book instead of arguing with them?" You deduct. "Clever. I would've brought a manga or something, but Sayori was impatient to get here. She's always trying to drag me out my house and make me socialize. Take the Literature Club, for example."

Yuri gives you a tiny nod. "It's kind of them to care about us," she says. "I do sometimes wish they could understand me better, though."

"I get that," you agree. "Even if they're a pain sometimes, you love them anyway."

Yuri evidently agrees, but something causes her to stop walking. You pause too, going back to join her. Her attention is on an attraction nearby, a 'haunted house' sort of place. She doesn't look like she had any idea it was here, and you recognize interest and anticipation on her face, which makes you happy- you might be getting a little bit better at reading Yuri, the more time you spend with her.

She reluctantly focuses back on you, and you sense she's about to apologize and continue walking, so you speak before she gets the chance. "We can go check it out, if you want?"

Your clubmate lights up for a moment before wincing. "We don't have to, if you wouldn't like it," is her answer. It's honestly not annoying, mainly because Yuri makes indecisiveness, shyness, and doormat-ness look really, really cute.

"It might be fun," you laugh, guiding her across to the entrance. It looks pretty stereotypical, and you recall going to one of these kinds of places with Sayori one year for Halloween when you were much, much younger, probably like 11 or 12. The line isn't long at all, which is also a bonus. When you two are given the all clear to go inside, you and Yuri enter the narrow, dark hallway.

You're suddenly quite aware of how close Yuri is as you walk- instead of trailing behind, she's right at your side now, pressed up against you since there's not a ton of room in this corridor. She doesn't seem to notice, too enraptured (ha, maybe you were hanging around her too much) by the thrill of what scares might await them to pay you much mind.

Talk about making a girl feel self-conscious. Despite being around the same age, Yuri was so much more...mature than you, to put it politely. It was nice in a way too- you felt safer than if you were by yourself, at the very least, since she was taller than you and so close to you.

The haunted house wasn't too scary, like you had assumed. The actors were great though, and at some point one of them lunged out towards you from a secret passageway and it startled you so badly that you ended up leaping backwards and pressing back against Yuri, your eyes wide and your heart hammering so loudly you bet the violet-haired girl had no trouble hearing it.

You stared tensely at the 'monster', needing a moment to collect yourself and remember how to breathe again. It's Yuri that manages to bring you out of it, which is so sweet of her since you all but crashed into the poor girl. She wraps her arms around you in a very gently hug, resting her chin on your hair. Where did all that confidence come from, anyway? It may have been the really dim lighting, you think to yourself- you can hardly see each other, so that could've given Yuri some boldness. Either that or she was finally getting comfortable around you!

The actor slowly recedes away, and you stay perfectly still for a minute longer than necessary. Finally, you clear your throat, awkwardly disentangling yourself from Yuri, who hops away from you quickly too, and even in the near-pitch black you could swear that she's blushing like crazy as she tries to stammer out an apology.

You shake your head, smiling nervously even though she can't see it. "T-Thanks, Yuri."

Okay, so maybe you had lied a little bit about it being 'not too scary.'

That was the last of the real scares, and you gladly spring out into the sunlight of day again, stretching your arms over your head. You look back to see Yuri hovering back in the darkness of the haunted house- was she okay? You ask your thought outloud.

"Y-Yes! I'm sorry. I'm coming..." She grudgingly steps out to join you in the real world, and you realize with a sense of deep sadness that she's not meeting your gaze anymore again. Great, just when you finally thought you were starting to make some progress on being friends with her. "That was a nice time, thank you very much, Y/N-" Those next words are blurted out and spoken so fast you're shocked she doesn't stutter over them. And the next thing you know, she's gone, disappearing into the crowds and leaving you alone and more than a little disappointed and confused.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Natsuki

You sigh to yourself as you wander around the amusement park, scanning around to see if anything piques your interest. You were also sort of hoping to see Sayori, considering she was responsible for dragging you here and now she'd ditched you, but you also wouldn't mind bumping into Yuri again to hang out. Something told you that Yuri had been pushed to her social interaction limit for the day though.

A loud, squeaky, angry, and oh-so-familiar voice causes you to head towards it and check out what's happening. As you thought, it's Natsuki, another of the girls in the Literature Club. She's standing at one of the game stands with her hands on her hips and leaning towards the guy running the game in an aggressive stance. You note that the game is one of those ones where you have to throw some darts at a balloon, and if you can pop one, you can get a prize. The prizes line the wall behind the man (more like disinterested teenage boy, but close enough), and they all are varying degrees of fluffy and cute stuffed animals. You never were a fan of amusement park games because they were more often than not rigged more than a claw machine.

You get a little closer so that you can hear better.

"...completely unfair! I hit that balloon, you and I both saw it!" Hisses Natsuki at the worker. It was too easy to compare her to a puffed up and angry kitten, you muse to yourself.

The boy shrugs. "Look, kid, if the balloon doesn't pop, then you don't get a prize. That's like, our only rule."

Fury flashes across Natsuki's face, and you resist the urge to laugh. Natsuki did look pretty young, but she was around your age, and probably this guy's age too. "Don't call me 'kid'!" She exclaims. "I won, fair and square! Just because it didn't-"

The argument was starting to draw in other bystanders, not just yourself. And you realize with a flicker of fear that you can see the worker reach for his walkie-talkie like he's going to call in security. Security on Natsuki, for god's sake. Ridiculous.

To prevent her from possibly being forcibly removed from the amusement park, you hurry over and place some money down on the game stand stable. "Can I try?" You interject. Even though you're not looking at Natsuki, you can feel her flinch away from you and sense her hostility and surprise at this new turn of events.

The boy running the stand regards you boredly, but you're relieved to see him put the walkie-talkie down. "Sure. That'll get you three tries."

Beside you, Natsuki scoffs. "As if you can hit one of them!" She grumbles. "It's not as easy as it looks." By how frustrated she was acting, you could guess that she'd been here the better part of the day attempting to win. But which prize did she have her eye on?

"Maybe not, but I can give it a shot," you say lightly. "Which one are we after?" You question her.

Natsuki glares at you fiercely, and you can see she's got a blush that matches her hair. Grudgingly, she points towards one of the bigger stuffed animals, a white bunny rabbit near the very top. "It's- it's not for me!" She informs you at once. "I wanted it for- for a friend. That's all."

'She's a terrible liar.' Nodding, you turn your attention to the man and tell him, "If I win, we get the bunny. Deal?"

"Means you've gotta shoot the purple balloon."

Of course, the purple balloon is at the very top of the wall of balloons. Fantastic. You don't have too much hope that you'll actually be able to pop it, especially when you see the kinds of darts he hands over to you. First of all, the tips are so blunt and dull that you can 100% believe that Natsuki did hit the balloon with one, but it wasn't nearly sharp enough to even hurt someone if they tested it against their skin. Second, the weight of it felt wildly uneven in the palm of your hand. The shape of the dart just wasn't sufficient enough to propel it through the air like it should have. This was precisely why you never would waste your time or money on this...but you couldn't exactly back out now, not with Natsuki's intense magenta eyes watching you like a hawk. If you didn't at least make an attempt, you'd never hear the end of it at the Literature Club, and it might cause you to lose what little respect Natsuki had for you. Which never seemed like a lot to begin with.

"C'mon, we've got a line now," sighed the worker, unimpressed with your examination of his faulty darts. It wasn't his fault they sucked, anyway. You were so focused on aiming your first dart that you didn't see the angry glance Natsuki cast at the boy.

You pulled back your arm and flung the dart at the balloon. It was pretty pitiful, you couldn't deny that. It sailed off away from the wall of balloons and landed outside of the game stand on the grass somehow.

Natsuki huffed a sigh, her arms crossed. But when the worker snorted and tried to hide his laughter, the little pinkette sprang closer like an affronted pomeranian. "It's not her fault these darts are total crap!" She snapped. You would never have expected in a million years for Natsuki of all people to jump to your defense and try to protect your honor.

She catches your wide-eyed gaze and then looks off to the side irritably. "Keep- keep your eyes to yourself," she growled under her breath.

You fortunately have the sense not to tease her about it. You have a better feel for how the darts travel through the air now, so you pick up the second one and aim again before sending it sailing. This time, it manages to hit the purple balloon target, but it simply bounces off the surface of it and clatters to the ground.

Natsuki opens her mouth to potentially blow up on the man, but you press a finger to your lips in a silent plea to ask her to be quiet. Now you have to take the brunt of her righteous fury in only a single expression, but she doesn't say a word.

One chance left.

You pick up your final dart, judging the distance from here to the balloon and considering the best angle to throw it. After a bit, you finally shoot your shot- and the resounding pop! catches you and all the bystanders by surprise.

What remains of the purple balloon flutters uselessly in the breeze. The worker still cares nothing for this, just goes to pluck the stuffed rabbit toy down from the prize wall.

You turn to beam at Natsuki, pleased with yourself. You've managed to surprise her, you can tell, and when you're handed your prize, you offer it out to Natsuki with a bright smile. "That was fun, huh?"

She stares at the bunny rabbit, still trying to process what had just happened. Slowly, as if she believed it's soft, fake fur was poisoned or something, she reached out to take it into her arms. Her face is growing more and more red by the second, and she buries it into the plush doll as if to hide herself or maybe try to regain her composure. Probably both.

The worker clears his throat loudly, indicating the two of you are still holding up the line, so you and Natsuki swiftly step to the side and start walking through the park. You're a little concerned she might trip over something or into someone since she's still hiding her face in the rabbit's fur and can't see where she's going, so you stick close to her in case she needs a hand to steady her. So much for 'letting her fall next time.'

When you can't handle the awkward silence any longer, you say, "Er, Natsuki...? Are you-"

She straightens up, cuddling the rabbit close to her. "It's fine!" She squeaks. "I- I mean- that was-" She's truly struggling here, and it makes you feel guilty. "You did okay," she manages to at last get out.

A twinge of unexpected hurt flashes through you. You'd privately been hoping that she would be impressed and grateful, but you guessed you shouldn't have ever thought those words might even be in Natsuki's vocabulary. "Oh..." You didn't mean for it to come out so forlorn, but you couldn't help it. "Yeah, thanks." You turn away from her, fighting back your disappointment. "I guess I'll see you at the club after school Monday, then-"

As you take the first step away, however, you feel Natsuki's hand dart out to grab your arm and force you to stop. "Wait!" Her voice is high-pitched with some frantic emotion you can't place a name to. "W-Wait, Y/N- I only meant that-" She huffs, stomping her shoe on the ground in obvious exasperation that you could only hope wasn't directed at you. "I-" God, it's a train wreck not just for her, but for you to witness too. "Thank you-!" The words have to be practically dragged out of her, so she tries again. "...Thank you."

You wait in confusion to see if there's anything else she's going to add, but when she doesn't, you tentatively reply, "Uhm...no problem-? I mean, you're always bringing cupcakes and stuff to share with everyone, so I just was hoping maybe I could try to return the favor and get you something." You pause. "I mean, get you something that you wanted to give to your friend." Best to try and fix any potential mistakes that could get you yelled at again.

Those words had some kind of effect on Natsuki, that was for sure, but you had no idea if it was a good kind or a bad kind. She's gazing up at you silently, seemingly frozen in place. Something snaps her back to reality, for she at last releases your arm, hugging the rabbit again like it could support her. "I guess...you can be really sweet sometimes instead of just a pain in the ass," she mumbles. You're about ready to be offended until Natsuki slowly holds out her bunny towards you, refusing to look at you. You're extremely befuddled and not sure what to expect when the soft nose of the plush bunny rabbit is touched gently against your cheek in a gesture that's very much like a feather-light kiss. "S-Stupid."

You feel like you're too paralyzed to respond in any kind of way, and besides, Natsuki's already brushing past you and stalking off, not giving you a moment to react anyway. You stand there for what feels like a long time after she's gone until it feels like you might have just imagined what happened there at the end.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Monika

Your day at the amusement park was drawing to a close, and suffice to say, you were thoroughly exhausted by everything that had happened. You stop to rest at one of the benches that was sort of away from the throngs of people who were starting to leave the park to head home, so at least the crowds were thinning out. Sayori had insisted you guys come here today, since it was Saturday and all, but she'd ditched you what feels like forever ago, and then you'd run into all the other members of the Literature Club- well, almost all of the other members, that is.

You let your mind drift as you sat there, leaning back into the wooden white bench and staring up at the sky. The yellow light was starting to fade as the sun slowly began it's descent into the horizon line. The amusement park would be closing in maybe an hour or so, you think to yourself as you let your eyes drift shut. You should really go and try to find Sayori so you can walk home together with her...not that the streets weren't safe in the evening, but it was entirely possible your friend could get lost or distracted and end up wandering around town for hours when she should be home. But you were honestly worn out from hours of walking around and socializing...

Right when you've finally gotten comfortable enough that you think you're dozing off out of reality and into a well-deserved, dreamy nap, there's a voice from right beside you that scares you enough to make you jump and snap your eyes wide open.

"Hi, Y/N! Fancy meeting you here."

Aaand, now you'd come across all of your Literature Club members- sitting on the bench beside you with her hands folded neatly in her lap was Monika. You've never seen her in anything besides her school uniform before, but the casual white and mint-green floral spring dress matched both her signature white bow and her eyes nicely at the same time. You hadn't even heard her walk up or sit down, which was kind of odd, but not odd enough for you to really think anything of it.

"Ah- hi, Monika," you greet with a small smile, trying to relax and not look as out-of-sorts as you felt. You run a hand through your hair, exhaling quietly in what was almost a sigh. "Yeah, I wasn't planning on leaving the house today, to be honest," you say in faint amusement. "Sayori sort of dragged me here to hang out."

Monika tilts her head to one side with a pleasant smile in return to you. "I see." She glances around as if she's expecting to see Sayori racing towards the two of you and calling loudly, her arms up in the air to get both of your attentions. But you and Monika are mostly alone. "So you spent the day with her?" The question is casual, and you don't think much of it at all.

"Uhm, not the whole day. We spent a little time together before she ran off somewhere...I bumped into Yuri and Natsuki today too, actually. Oh, but I was sort of thinking I should go try and find Sayori so we could head home."

Monika's emerald green gaze flicks away from you as a breeze ruffles her hair and yours. She doesn't respond for a moment, but you see that her friendly smile has faded somewhat now- and she looks...it's hard to say. Monika looks- gosh, you wish you were half as smart and descriptive as Yuri sometimes- wistful? Was that the word? Contemplatively wistful? She speaks again and it rouses you out of your daze. "So you were just about to leave." The Literature Club president flashes you an apologetic glance before rising gracefully up from the bench. "I didn't mean to bother; I can see you're tired, Y/N. I should get going too."

She doesn't seem sad, not necessarily, but you get the sense that something is a little off. Maybe it's the time of day affecting her mood? It's that weird hour where the day is technically over, but not quite yet- and there's a regretful longing permeating the atmosphere, the only way you could describe it might be like the feeling a high school kid gets on a Sunday evening, in spite of the fact today was Saturday, meaning the weekend wasn't over yet.

You move to stand up as well, a little clumsier than Monika. "But- there's still a little while before the park closes. If there was anything you still wanted to do here, I could come with you, if that sounds alright? Unless you were really going to leave, that is. I'm not so tired that I'd miss hanging out with you- outside of school, I mean."

There's the slightest hint of hesitation, and you're unable to decipher Monika's feelings right now. If you were to guess, you might say she's conflicted. Just as you're positive she's going to politely decline, her warm smile returns. "That would be nice," she says, and you realize you've been holding your breath.

"Okay, cool!" You brighten up and begin to walk through the amusement park with Monika.

She has her hands clasped behind her back and she's looking around to admire the scenery around you both while you do your best not to stare like a weirdo at her. "So, uhm...were you wanting to go on a ride or...?" You ask after a little while of silence.

Monika hums, but you don't think she's actually considering your suggestion. "I wouldn't ask you to wear yourself out anymore. When I first saw you on the bench, I thought you might have been taking a nap." While her tone of voice is casual, you can't shake the sense that there's an undercurrent of something else in those words. Almost like she's accusing others of making you tired or something. You're probably just imagining it.

Briefly, you wonder why she joined you if she thought you were asleep.

As if reading your thoughts, your club president continues, "Sorry if I disturbed you, Y/N." She slows the pace while you assure her that it was okay and she had done no such thing, stopping eventually to gaze upwards.

You follow suit to see the Ferris wheel towering above your heads. "I haven't been up there today," you comment thoughtfully. "Is it a pretty view?"

Monika dips her head slightly in assent. "I think so, yeah. Coming?" She leads you over to the man who is seating people in each of the carts, and he warns that this is the last go-around. "We understand, thank you," Monika says to him, and while she's just as charming, you think you know her well enough now to tell that this is her feigned politeness, like her guard is up.

He grunts and allows the two of you in one of the carts, shutting the glass door behind you.

You actually aren't scared at all. Well, you guess you are a little apprehensive at being in this small space alone with Monika, but you tell yourself you're being ridiculous. She's your friend, isn't she? So there's not a thing in the world to be nervous about...

The cart starts to go up into the air, and you stay standing while Monika takes a seat. Your hands press against the glass as the two of you climb higher and higher. The city is there, with all it's buildings and roads, but beyond it is... you can't really see what's beyond the city, and this confuses you. Shouldn't there be...something? Instead of just, blurry darkness? You blink several times and then brush at your eyes with the back of one hand like your sight is trying to deceive you. But when you look again, you still see only the murky black of nothingness beyond your city.

Monika's voice so near to you gives you a start- you'd been so dumbfounded by the missing scenery that you hadn't heard her stand up and come closer to you. Instead of watching the outside world, you sense her eyes are fixed intently on you. "What do you think?"

It's almost a relief to tear your gaze away from the glass. Her expression is rather closed off but serious, and sort of searching yours. You wish, not for the first time, that Monika was less of a mystery to you.

How to respond? "It's- strange," you manage to say.

The brunette leans impossibly closer to you, alight with surprise and near-disbelief as she presses, "What do you mean strange, Y/N?"

Feeling awkward and pressured, you find yourself taking a step backwards from Monika to get some space between you two. 'She'll think I'm crazy if I say it looks like we're floating in the middle of nowhere-outer-space in the middle of like a black hole or something.' "J-Just that-" You can see something akin to desperation written on her now, like she's trying to silently plead with you to answer her question sincerely. You fumble on the words, unused to this sort of intensity. "Just that...the town- it looks- different from up here..." Each word is stiff and awkward, you're really an awful liar, maybe even as bad as Natsuki.

Fervid disappointment seems to shake Monika's entire being, and she pulls back away from you, looking outside of the Ferris wheel cart again and far off into the distance. She's starting to become composed again and when the cart makes it last lap around and comes to a slow halt at the bottom, she turns back to face you and she's her usual self again: friendly, sweet, and bright. "I understand. Thank you, Y/N." The door to the cart opens and Monika moves to step out, offering you her hand to help you out.

Your breathing feels a little labored, and it isn't until later that you realize you'd actually been afraid. Not of Monika, more of the fact that you'd never once seen her behave anything like that before. It left such an impression on you that you were positive you hadn't imagined it. You do end up accepting her hand though, and you wonder if she can feel it's slight tremble.

One thing you weren't sure if you had imagined was the weird end of the world thing surrounding your city. Maybe there was something wrong with you. But you couldn't really think about that now.

"I told you it was a pretty view," giggled Monika. "You seem surprised. Didn't believe me?" She teased gently.

"Oh-! Oh, no, it isn't that! Like I said, it just was, er... different than I expected, is all," you murmur, glancing away- Monika's still holding your hand, but you don't have the heart to pull it out of her grasp.

You don't end up having to make that choice, since she jumps away from you at the yell of your friend Sayori. You see her bounding over to the two of you, just barely managing to hit the brakes and skid to a halt before colliding with you. She does however manage to shower you with dust and pebbles, to which you just press a hand to your forehead to quell a headache.

"Y/N! There you are! I was looking all over the place for you!" Sayori exclaims. She then waves at Monika, as bubbly as ever even though she should've, theoretically, gotten rid of some of that excess energy at the amusement park today. "Hey, Monika! Thanks for looking after her," she laughed.

Monika nods, much to your indignation. "My pleasure, Sayori. I'd better head off, then. I'll see you both after school for the club Monday!" She walked away, waving her farewell for a moment.

You didn't realize you were watching her go until Sayori's hand flailed in front of your face to get your attention. "Hey, we are going home together, aren't we?" She insists. "Otherwise I wasted soooo much time trying to hunt you down, Y/N!"

"Right, right, sorry. Of course we're walking back together- I was looking for you too."

Sayori pouts a little. "Did you think I'd be on the Ferris wheel?"

You grin. "Did you just use sarcasm, Sayori?"

She shakes her head quickly to deny it. "No, never! But am I wrong?"

"Okay, so maybe I did agree to spend some time with Monika," you confess with a shrug, allowing Sayori to pull you away towards the amusement park exit.

Sayori frowns, an unusual look for her. But it isn't a sad frown- it's a concentrated one. She was studying you with determination. "Did something happen? You seem a little out of it!" Amused, she pokes your cheek. "Fess up, Y/N! Do you have a crush on our club president? You have to tell me if you do! We're best friends!"

Sheesh, as if Sayori could ever keep a secret. But she was completely off base with that guess. "No," you answer her calmly. "I guess I...had some kind of epiphany."

".....what's an epiphany?"

'Ohmygod.'

[tsukiihime]

Heartbreak (Bakugo x Reader, Shinsou x Reader)

Hey everyone! This is my first BNHA piece, something I wrote when I was bored and thought what the hey, I’ll post it! Feedback is appreciated!

Word Count: 3.4k

Pairings: Bakugo x Reader, Shinsou x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of cyberbulling, swearing, breakup, angst, just kind of a sad piece overall?

Next Chapter

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When you started dating the Explosion Hero Dynamight, you knew that you were throwing yourself to the wolves. The media is cruel and the fans even crueller - if they deem you unworthy for their Hero then you’re in for a hell of a time - and not in a good way. But you loved Bakugo - you’ve loved him more than you’ve ever loved anyone, and for two years of your life you’ve been by his side as he  climbs through the Hero charts. 

But recently, the media has been sniffing a little too close to home. Someone has tipped the tabloids off to your existence and ravenous fans have been finding your social media day after day. Your selfies on Instagram are being bombarded with hateful comments on everything ranging from your weight to your skin color to your fashion sense, while your Twitter messages are flooded with paragraph after paragraph full of venom and vitriol. You can no longer take the headlines, the hate, the disgust being dished out at you day and day out. You beg your boyfriend to do something, anything to make the media leave you alone. Which brings you to tonight - in a heated argument with the Hero Dynamight.

“All I’m saying is that if you address the media, if you tell them that I’m your girlfriend, they might back off. I can’t do this anymore Katsuki, I can’t keep waking up and seeing this shit on my feed!” You’re so angry you’re shaking, and it’s pissing you off even more that Bakugo stares at you, unblinking and unfazed, arms crossed in indifference.

“You know I can’t do that. I do that, and my ratings plunge.” Your eyes widen in disbelief as soon as those words leave his mouth, you can’t believe he even said that. 

“Are you serious Katsuki? Is beating Deku and becoming the number one hero really worth more to you than us? Than me?” Tears threatened to spill over at any moment, your fists clenching until your nails left tiny red crescents in your skin. You stared at vermilion eyes refusing to back down, waiting with trembling lips for his answer.

“You knew what you were getting into when you started dating me. I don’t know why you need so much fuckin’ reassurance that you’re different from all those other damn extras.” That sentence sends you from angry to fuckin’ pissed in less than a second. 

You jab at his chest, practically screaming: “Excuse me? When we started dating, I was promised that you’d protect me from everything, including the media. Do you see the shit they say about me Katsuki? What they say about my body, my family, my upbringing? How they call me a slut and a whore because my Instagram has ‘Toshi on it and now I’ve been spotted with you? I can’t even visit my parents because I’m afraid they’ll follow me. I can’t go and see “Toshi because they’ll shit talk me even more! And you sit there and do nothing. Say nothing. All I want is for you to tell them the truth, that we are dating and that we are a couple.” 

Now, it’s Bakugo’s turn to bite back. “And I’m sayin’ my hands are tied. They know I’m with someone, and I lose  fans. Which means, I ain’t gonna beat that damn Deku at the rankings next month.”

“Fuck the rankings Bakugo! Can you get your head out of your ass for a second?! How in the world,” you turn to go to grab your phone, pulling up the latest headline about you on the tabloid’s website, “can you let them say this about me? Don’t you at least care that I’m being attacked on the daily?” Tears fall freely from your eyes now, and Bakugo flinches for a second, but only a second. You laugh in anger, turning away from him. “I already know the answer, Katsuki. You care more about the rankings than me. I’m in the way of your dream if you say I’m with you, so let me remove myself from the equation.” You grab a jacket, an umbrella and your phone, and put on your shoes. “It’s over Katsuki. I’m done. If you won’t say that we’re together, then we shouldn’t be together.” 

You turn to leave, and a part of you hopes that he’ll follow - that he’ll grab you and hold you tight and tell you that he loves you, loves you more than the stupid rankings and that he’ll stand by you no matter what the media says.

But he doesn’t. 

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You walk a couple of blocks to another apartment building, ring the doorbell and wait for the response to come from the other side. A deep voice responds, belonging to someone who had obviously been sleeping. “Who the hell is it?”

“‘Toshi, it’s me.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? It’s raining idiot, get in here.” The doors unlock and you make your way inside. You know this building like the back of your hand, it’s the home of your best friend and your second home. You make your way to his apartment and he’s waiting for you in the hallway - purple hair tousled and messy, body heavy with sleep and dark undereye circles accentuating violet eyes as he scratches the back of his neck. It’s a tic of his, one you know well - he’s nervous.

“A fight huh?” 

“Worse. I broke it off.” Shinsou immediately tenses at the mention of this, and if you weren’t so pissed and hurt by Bakugo you would’ve laughed. 

“Shit...I’m sorry. Come in, tell me all about it.” He steps aside and lets you into his apartment, closing the door as he prepares himself to listen to you complain until the sun rises. He agrees to help you get your things when you’re ready to return, and says you can crash at his place until you find somewhere else to stay.

You return two days later, punching in the code to the apartment you and Bakugo share - well, you supposed shared was the better word. It felt so foreign, being here after everything. Memories of the last two years flooded into your mind - lazy days where you spent all day with Katsuki on the couch doing nothing but watching horrible horror flicks and laughing the night away, those early mornings that had you waking up at five o’clock in the morning to cook pancakes while the sleepy blonde wraps his arms around your waist while teasing your culinary skills. Even the late nights when schoolwork kept you awake well into the twilight hours and your exhausted body dragged itself to the bed you and he shared, breathing in the caramel scent of the man you loved as your head hits the plush pillows and you drift off to sleep. But now, all of those memories have disappeared into the wind, replaced with the fight you and Bakugo had before you had stormed out of the house that night. He’s been texting you like mad, calling you like there is no tomorrow, but you ignore his calls. He never leaves a voicemail, so you don’t know what’s on his mind.  

As the beige door swung open, you breathed a sigh of relief that Katsuki wasn’t home. You had neither the heart nor the energy to see him after all that had happened and instead resolved yourself to get all of your things before his shift ended at his agency. You spent the next hour rounding up everything you owned - books, pictures, everything that you had room to take and that you knew you wouldn’t miss if you left it behind. When you had a breather you sent a quick text to Shinsou to let him know you were almost ready to go - and took a deep breath as you entered your bedroom. No, your former bedroom now. “That’s all it is now.” you remind yourself.

You start dumping all your clothes into trash bags and gather up pictures and toiletries that belong to you as you clean up the bedroom from one end to the other. As you grab a pile and place it on the bed, an article of clothing falls that you don’t recognize. You bend over and pick it up to inspect it closer. 

You know your clothes, all of them. But this lacy lingerie set that is discarded on the floor isn’t yours, hell, it isn’t even your size. Your throat feels like sandpaper and your nose crinkles as you drop the clothes as if burned by a flame. You can’t help but stare at it as a million things run through your mind at once: whose is it? How long has it been here? Was this before or after you and Katsuki broke up? Did he already move on? The last thought is something you know you shouldn’t dwell on, it isn’t your business what he does after you’re the one that ended the relationship. You know this and yet the tears come anyways, endless and stinging without end. Your legs give out and you fall to your knees clutching your heart as sobs fall from your lips, as your emotions bounce all over the place. The molten hot anger you felt at first is now transforming into deep sadness, all the bittersweet memories racing through your mind now replaced by images of Katsuki holding another woman, another lover just like he held you. You can’t stop as your brain formulates these what if situations - what if he was waiting for you to end it so he could be with her? You start to imagine him kissing another with the same passion he held for you. You see another in your place, eating the food that he insists on making to spoil you after a long night of homework, running their fingers through his hair as he falls asleep on their lap, and seeing another wrapped in his arms as they fall asleep together under the moonlit sky.

“I can’t stay here” you whisper to yourself, desperate to stop the tears that won’t end - desperate to feel anything but this pit of agony. You’ll take numbness over this endless heartbreak, this disappointment, this feeling of self-deprecation that tells you over and over that you weren’t good enough. “I-”

The door opens and you hear Shinsou’s voice behind you, calling your name and making his way through the hallway at the front of the apartment. “You didn’t answer my texts so I came up to check on you and-” The purple haired man freezes when he sees you, sitting on the floor with your head in your hands, sobbing uncontrollably as a waterfall of tears spill from your eyes dripping onto your fingers. You can no longer hold back your sobs as everything comes to a head - your insecurities, the hateful comments left on your social media, Katsuki’s own dismissal of your feelings as you two fought that night two days ago. Shinsou immediately drops to his knees in front of you, wrapping his arms around your frame and holding you close. “It’s okay...let it out.” You peer up at him from tear filled eyes, lunging at him to wrap your arms around his neck as you bury your face in his chest. 

“Hitoshi…” is all you’re able to say before another sob wracks your body, tears staining your cheeks and dampening Shinsou’s hoodie. You try desperately to explain why you’re crying, and why you’re so upset but you can’t find the words as your tongue feels heavy like a bunch of bricks. Indigo eyes drift to the underwear discarded behind you, anger seething in his veins as he puts two and two together. 

“Bakugo, you fucking tool.” He thinks to himself as he holds you, letting you cry out what you can’t tell him but he knows. He knows you better than anyone, just as you know him better than anyone. He remembers the vibrant little girl he met on the playground all those years ago, who spoke to him without a care even with his “villainous” quirk. He remembers your ecstatic scream as he calls you to let you know that he was able to get into the Hero Course at U.A, and he remembers you celebrating his acceptance at getting into a Hero Agency by getting blackout drunk and waking up with you in snuggled in his arms as you wear his favorite hoodie. He remembers being the one to introduce you to Bakugo at a Hero Ranking after party when you accompanied him as his plus one. He remembers how breathtaking you looked that night - an obsidian dress that hugged your figure closely, long legs accentuated by black stilettos and your plush lips painted in a ruby red hue. He remembers being the man of the hour, the hero Mindjack accompanied by a beauty on his arm, the envy of the venue. He remembers dancing with you, his most beloved childhood friend, his most precious person. He remembers watching you stride to the bar, smiling as you greet the bartender with glee and and he remembers watching you bump into Bakugo as you apologize quickly to the blonde before making your way back to him. He also remembers Bakugo following you to him, prompting him to introduce you to the man who would eventually become your boyfriend.

“If only you hadn’t bumped into him that night”, Shinsou thinks to himself, “Katsuki Bakugo, I’m going to give you a piece of my mind when I see you next.” How helpless he feels watching you cry as your heart shatters into a million pieces, how powerless he feels as he holds you tighter than he’s ever held anyone before. “C’mon, let’s get you home. I’ll take what I can and I’ll get the rest another day.” he smiles as he looks at you, giving you a small grin that he hopes makes you feel a bit better. “Don’t worry, I grabbed your Switch and your laptop, so the lazy girl hours can still happen” you punch him in the shoulder playfully as you wipe tears away on your sleeve, pouting as you roll your eyes at his lazy jokes before he continues, “and I’ll send Bakugo a text on what’s happening. You won’t have to deal with him. I promise.” It doesn’t escape his notice how you tense up when he says Bakugo, but the small smile you give at his joke makes him feel just a bit better. You stand up and press your lips to his forehead, tippy toeing to reach. “Thanks ‘Toshi. I really appreciate it, truly.” 

“Anything for my Animal Crossing buddy.” You cross your arms and give him a questioning look, eliciting a chuckle from the taller male. “I’m jus’ kiddin’. You know I’d do anything for you. And your Switch.” You laugh as you turn to grab your boxes and make your way to the front of the apartment, the lingerie that had shattered your world moments ago momentarily forgotten in the corner of you and Bakugo’s bedroom. “It’s only Bakugo’s now” you remind yourself as you walk out into the living room, “this place belongs to Bakugo only.” You take one last look at your home for the last ten months, and quickly turn on your heels to make your way to the elevator with your entire life packed into a few boxes. A small sense of regret lingers in you, but you quickly shove that aside to stop yourself from crying some more. Shinsou grabs the rest of the boxes left on the table, and places your key to the apartment on the counter next to a picture frame with the glass faced down. He then turns and follows you out the door to his car.

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The next few nights are the hardest - Shinsou’s apartment only has one bedroom, one bathroom and the living room which means you’re on the couch until you find your own place. You’ve known Shinsou since childhood and you wouldn’t mind sharing a bed but you’re so distraught from your discovery in Bakugo’s room that you want to be alone to cry it out if you need to - you already feel like a burden to Shinsou despite his protests against the idea. He’s not home tonight - on patrol around the city as you sit in the living room wrapped in a blanket and wearing his favorite hoodie. You flip through the channels and stumble across the Hero Rankings red carpet. It’s been ages since Hitoshi attended one, becoming more of an “underground hero” and avoiding the spotlight if possible. In fact, the only time he attended one was with you around the time you met Bakugo. You cringe at the thought of him, trying quickly to remove him from your mind. The rational part of your mind wants to change the channel, to watch those documentaries you love so much and wait until Shinsou gets back home but you don’t. Instead, you decide to remain on this channel, watching as heroes come and go on the red carpet with their dates and hear the host gush about each one’s accomplishments. This is torture, you know Bakugo will appear since he’s the number four Hero, you know he’ll be there and yet like a train wreck, you can’t look away. Maybe you’re curious as to what he’s up to, or maybe you want to see if he looks as miserable as you know you do. In any case, you wait with baited breath to see a pair of scarlet eyes and ash blonde hair to satiate your curiosity. A flash of green catches your attention and you see Izuku Midoriya appear on screen in front of you. Deku is the number three Hero and on his arm is his girlfriend Uraraka, another Hero ranked at number seven. You’ve met the both of them at parties you attend with Bakugo - they both received a lot of hate from “fans'' when they announced they were dating, but the love they exuded for each other made the media change their tune really fast. They truly adored one another and didn’t care if their ratings took a dive. You had wished Bakugo would do that for you, but you weren’t a Hero and you didn’t have an impressive quirk, so his agency decided that it would be better for his ratings if he kept you a secret and he agreed. At first, you didn’t mind but the comments on social media and the tabloids made you feel as if he wasn’t yours at all - instead all you felt was that he was ashamed of you. 

Then you see him. You grip the remote so hard it almost hurts, but you keep on looking anyway. There stands the number four Hero Katsuki Bakugo, wearing a red and black suit and looking as he always does - confident to the point of arrogance, a grumpy face that makes him unapproachable, arms crossed in annoyance. The cameras go off flash after flash, and the announcer goes over his stats - how many people he’s saved, his amount of solved cases, so on and so forth. You smile at his ranking, he’s gone from eleven to four in such a short amount of time, and you know he has his determination to thank for that. He works hard, that you can’t deny. 

Then you see her. You recognize her, from the tabloids and the makeup commercials. The Illusion Hero, Maboromicamie. She’s tall, beautiful, and has a gorgeous figure as well as a comfy place ranked as the number ten Hero. Her arm is linked with Bakugo’s, and he has an arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her close for the photoshoot. The announcer raises their voice in excitement, as a headline appears on your TV: “Dynamight and Maboromicamie an item? Seen together getting close at the awards ceremony!”

You shut off the TV and close your eyes. What were you expecting? Why did you do that? You can’t help the tears that escape, but they do. There you sit, alone in the apartment with the image of those two stuck in your head, burned into your memory. When Shinsou gets home, he says nothing and you’re grateful for it - you know he’s seen the ceremony and he knows you well enough to know that you’ve seen it too. Instead, he showers, lays down next to you, and holds you close as you cry quietly into his arms.

[onewithnomightypowers]

clandestine (chapter 1)

PAIRING: Tom Holland x fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Y/N is an up and coming actress, married to a once hotshot actor, Harrison (Haz). What happens when her co-star, Tom, makes her realise that she is stuck in a loveless marriage. A marriage starts crumbling and a new romance stars brewing.

Chapter 1: too wise to trust

A/N: y/n is bisexual but not paired with a women. the characters have been aged up. the characters in no way portray how these ppl are in real life. i do not encourage cheating. i hope you guys like it as much is i do. if you want to be tagged them pls tell me. also comments are appreciated as they motivate me to write more and i love to know how you guys feel about the story.  

warning: cursing, mention of miscarriage, mention of sex, mention of cat calling, angst. fluff? 

word count: 1.4k

important: character thoughts are bold and italic, flashback is in italic

masterlist   series masterlist   chapter 2

She picked up her makeup bag from her vanity and started walking towards her empty suitcase which was wide open on her bed. “What time is your flight?” Haz asked while walking into their bedroom. “I think it’s at 6:30 in the evening but the car will be here to pick me up at 4”, she replied whilst folding her clothes.

“So we have at least an hour to us”; he pulled her by the waist and started kissing her neck. She tried pushing his chest away but failed miserably. “Haz, I’m not in the mood, please stop”

“Fine. But you have been saying that for months now”, he was frustrated.

She ignored his words like always. 

He was right. They hadn’t had sex for at least five months now and it was starting to gain on Harrison. Their marriage, which had been ‘couple goals’ according to the internet, was now slowly falling apart. It was clear that Y/N was falling out of love but she couldn’t find grounds for it. She couldn’t reason it by making him the villain because he was a good man who, in theory, had done nothing wrong. Though, to her, it felt like he had. Maybe he didn’t love her enough or maybe all had gone astray when they had lost their baby last year.

“Will Tom be there?” his words felt like venom, entering her bloodstream.

She placed her hand on her forehead, trying to indicate that she did not want to have this conversation or the inevitable fight, again.

“Of course he will be there, he is my co-star. You should get off the internet, it’s feeding you poison”, she said in an almost nonchalant way. Trying her best not to give him the satisfaction of a reaction to his name. His name, which did not mean anything to her. Tom was her colleague whom the internet liked to ship her with, but he was just a friend. Haz found it hard to believe this because the internet told him so. Their relationship was so far gone that he had no other way of knowing what was going on in her life. 

His wife was so far gone. She was as distant as the sun is from the moon. The distance left coldness between them. The kind of cold that you feel when you pass a stranger. She was a stranger to him and the only reason he could think of was that she and Tom were having an affair. This was not true, but the ache in his soul found comfort in painting Tom as the villain. 

“I don’t believe you”, Haz spat out.

She threw her heels inside the suitcase in anger. “What do you not believe? That Tom is my co-star? Is that what you don’t believe?” her voice was louder than before.

“I don’t trust him.” Haz matched her voice.

“Do you trust me?”

Trust? Her? How can I trust a stranger?

It was his turn to ignore her.

She zipped her bag, put on her shoes, and left the room. “Fuck you”, she cried before slamming their apartment door and leaving for London.

--

Y/N had first met Tom at a cast and crew dinner in New York, six months ago. Greta, the director, had invited both her and Haz but he had decided to opt-out of the ‘fancy’ dinner. Y/N was excited to meet her new co-stars and mark the starting of a new project, a new phase in her life.

It was cold in New York, she figured she shouldn’t wear a dress. She put on black stockings underneath blue bell-bottoms to keep her warm. She wore a dark grey American Eagles t-shirt and over that, a tan leather trench coat. She liked commuting via subway because she believed ‘nobody gives two shits about who is sitting next to them on the train’; and a town car was much slower, especially when it had been snowing. She stuffed her heels in her purse and wore her commuting shoes.

Tribeca to West Village was a good ten minutes train. Her travel was mostly uninterrupted except for the catcalls which felt like the usual to a native. Just before ringing Greta’s doorbell, she got out of her Converse and wore her heels.

Y/N entered a packed house. Almost everyone was there and she was late. But someone was to arrive even later than her. She examined the room, everyone was mingling with each other. She didn’t know anybody there except Noah Baumbach from the time she auditioned for ‘marriage story’. She didn’t get the part but still loved the movie. She realized Tom was missing.  

Greta pulled her into a conversation about when the production of the movie would start or something like that. She wasn’t really paying attention. She was so eager to meet Tom that her eyes couldn’t stop roaming around the room, trying to find him, and just when she thought he wouldn’t show up, he did. 

Everybody’s head turned towards him when he entered the living room. It was as if every person in the room wanted him, including her. His dark brown hair, falling into place like a domino, had snowflakes in them.

“Excuse me”, Greta gave a small smile to Y/N and walked over to Tom. She greeted him and politely touched his back. “Now that everyone is here we should take the party to the dining hall”, she said in a loud and cheerful tone.

Following Greta, everyone started moving towards the dining hall. Tom sat right across Y/N on the grand dining table. “Hi, I’m Tom”, he introduced himself in his thick British accent. “And he’s English”, Y/N said, adding to her list of things she found captivating about Tom.  

“And?” Tom gave her a confused look.

Shit. I said it out loud.

“I-I mean hi, I’m Y/N”, she tried to cover up her mistake.

His dark brown eyes on her, made her thoughts run wild. It was wrong enough to feel right. The dinner was served and small groups of conversations were taking place. Somehow the whole table took on the topic of bisexuality. Y/N felt obligated to take part in the conversation, being part of the community herself. 

“I think bisexuality is a gateway to being gay”, Tom said to the whole table.

“You’re being bi-phobic, Tom”, Y/N called him out. All eyes were on her now.

“And how do you know that?” Tom asked Y/N.

“Because I am bisexual, and any decent human being would know that”

“Are you calling me indecent?”

“No, I’m calling you bi-phobic”

“But aren’t you married to a guy?”

“That doesn’t change my sexual orientation, and you’re being bi-phobic. Again.” There was silence, everyone was listening carefully. 

“Okay, so please explain to me how I’m being bi-phobic?”

“Just the fact that you believe bisexuality is a gateway to being gay and me being married to a guy, means my bisexual card has been revoked, portray your biphobia”

“I am a little confused”, Tom said while reaching for his wine glass. 

“Someone who is bisexual is attracted to both men as well as women. It isn’t a gateway to being gay, it is a legit sexuality of its own”, 

“Hmm, I suppose I stand corrected. I’m sorry if I offended you or anyone. I will go home, do the research and try to be more open-minded”, said Tom, smiling.

“Good”, Y/N said, feeling accomplished and impressed by Tom’s ability to accept his mistake.

Haz would have never accepted that he was wrong.

Y/N felt wonderstruck. Blushing all the way home. She hoped Tom knew how enchanting it was for her to meet him. She wondered if someone was waiting for him at home, like someone was waiting for her. She wasn’t quite sure whether Haz was waiting for her to reach home or not.

She reached home to an empty bed. Not knowing what to make of it, she got ready to sleep. 2 AM and Haz was still not home. She didn’t try to reach him because she knew all phone calls would go straight to voice message and all messages would go unreplied. She closed her eyes, feeling indifferent towards Haz. Even in her sleep, her mind echoed Tom’s name. She was unaware of the treacherous road ahead of her. And that gave her comfort. His thought gave her comfort.

[fredweesleyismyslut]

Class Has Started - Weasley Twins x reader smut

A/N:  Sorry it took me so long to get to this.  I finally finished my exams for summer classes and actually did quite decent so yayyy!!  Anyways, I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it while singing along to BTS and jpop songs at the top of my lungs haha.  Bye!!!

You were left to go to Hogwarts alone, well you still had your friends, but your boyfriends had gone.  During Umbridge’s tyranny, they had a grand exit which you along with the other students celebrated.  The look on Umbridge’s face, you wish you had your camera with you right then, the utter horror of what the twins had done left her stunned. Well, for a good minute before she started yelling at everyone again.  Now it was your last year and Umbridge was gone, everything was back to normal, as normal as it could be the looming knowledge that he-who-must-not-be-named was coming back.  The twins had opened up the joke shop that they had always dreamed of and it was very popular, you were incredibly proud of them, the loves of your life.  You were shopping for your new items along with Ginny, whom you had gotten incredibly close to since you spent most of the summer at the Weasley’s.  You saw her give Harry a quick glance as you whispered in her ear, “Keep staring and his hair might catch on fire.”  Face reddening the color of her hair, she slapped your arm softly, as you chuckled.  You walked into the joke shop, watching as items buzzed around, children running around to buy things.  A finger poked your shoulder, thinking it was one of the twins you turned, smiling brightly.  Instead, you were met with a face you were vaguely familiar with, a Ravenclaw boy you had classes with the year before, his name was...Jack...no Jeff?  Well, Jack/Jeff or whatever, smiled brightly as he gave you a very obvious once over, focusing on your chest.  Rolling your eyes softly you politely asked, “Can I help you with something?”  He nodded before answering, “I was wondering….Well, maybe you’d like to go out sometime….maybe tomorrow?”  Scoffing slightly, you replied, “Sorry, I’m going out with my friend tomorrow.”  you replied, motioning towards Ginny.  His face darkened slightly, “I’m sure you’d have a lot more fun with me than those Weasleys.  I mean, what can they give you...hand me down towels?”  You scowled softly, before putting on a smile as sweet as you could, “Well, I’m sure I will have an infinite amount more fun with her than you.  I mean, heck I’d have even more fun with a slug than you.”  You gave a quick once over, as you continued, “And since I’m not in the act of giving out charity, I’ll kindly decline hanging out with you before I kindly put my fist in your face.”  Grabbing his chin you whispered, “Talk shit about my friends again and I promise I won’t be so nice next time.  Now run along.”  He scowled, “Whatever, you’re not that hot anyways.  Little too round for me”  

Rolling your eyes you ignored the comment and walked off before quickly bumping into two broad chests.  “Hey beautiful.” a voice said as an arm draped around your waist, you looked up see your favorite Weasleys, who were both sporting frowns.  Fred continued, “We were about to butt in but you handled that very nicely, sweetheart.”  You blushed softly, “Well, I can’t always depend on you two...especially since you won’t be-”  George cut in, “You know we’ll be around, y/n especially if dickwads like that wanna hang around you.  But we really are genuinely sorry for doing that without telling you, we just didn’t want to drag you into it.”  He offered a soft smile as his finger traced your jaw, “We know how much finishing school means to you, and we would never want to drag you down with us, bunny.”  Looking up into his eyes, you motioned around the place, “I think you guys made an upgrade if I say so, should’ve dragged me in, I could’ve been your receptionist or something.”  They both chuckled as Fred considered thoughtfully, “Hmmmm...I mean if it’s an opportunity to see you in a sexy pencil skirt-”  You elbowed Fred’s stomach, “In your dreams, Weasley”, lowering your voice to a whisper, “And if you wanted to see me in a pencil skirt all you have to do is ask, we could do some teacher-student…”  A red-faced Ron cleared his throat cutting you off, “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear any of that.  I might have to bleach my ears out later though, thanks y/n.”  The three of you collectively looked at each other as you laughed, as Fred said, “What’d you want, Ron?”  “How much for this?” he said holding something up, “Five galleons.”  the twins replied in unison.  “But I’m your brother.”  They both looked at each other before replying, “Ten galleons.”  You chuckled softly, as Ron scoffed before walking away.  “You two mess with him too much.  Oh, since we’re talking about Ron, I was going to take Ron and Ginny out for a little dessert date later.  Ginny wanted to try out that new shop down the street.”  The twins nodded as they smiled down at you, “That’d be nice.”  George replied, “It’s nice that you get along with them.  You know I’m pretty sure Ginny loves you more than us.”  You chuckled as Fred added, “Our own mother even had the audacity to say she wished you were her daughter instead of having us two.  I mean who would want to replace our genius minds.”  Laughing you replied, “I think the two of your IQs added together is less than 100, boy genius.”  Fred rolled his eyes as he stuck his tongue out at you, tipping onto your toes you licked his tongue.  A look of surprise crossed his face, “You violated me” he said, dramatically grasping his heart.  Sticking your tongue out, “Don’t put your tongue out then.  Anyways, see you two later, I have to finish up shopping.”  They nodded and before walking to find Ginny you walked back, kissing both their cheeks, “And congratulations on the shop.  I’m so proud, honestly...and if you two are good I have a surprise waiting tonight.”  Finishing with a wink, you found Ginny and walked out of the shop, continuing your journey to find school supplies.  

Later that evening, you had an owl fly by the joke shop with a letter, “Come over to my place for your present.”  Sweet and to the point, you lived near the Weasleys and your parents were gone for the night.  Once the sun had gone down you heard a doorbell ringing.  The twins had arrived at your door, George holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers.  “For me?!”  you asked, dramatically placing your hand on your forehead, “Thank you, but we’re celebrating you two.  Okay, so don’t upstage me in my present.”  Fred chuckled as he kissed your forehead, “I smell something delicious.”  Motioning to the kitchen, you smiled, “I made a cake, to celebrate.”  They practically drooled as they filed in, “We were starving, thank you, y/n.  I didn’t think it was possible to love you anymore but apparently it is.”  George nodded along, as he sat in the dining room.  As they were eating cake you excused yourself to the bathroom, pulling out a pencil skirt, tights, and tight button-up blouse, along with a fake pair of glasses.  Grabbing a pointer stick you slowly walked down the stairs you dramatically stopped at the front of the dining table, raising on leg up on a chair.  “Time for class to start.”  The twins’ jaws were dropping as they took you in before Fred stuttered out, “Y-Y/n.”  Softly tapping him with the stick you smiled, “It’s Miss.Y/n to you.  Finish your cake and we can really get this party started.”  You didn’t think it was possible for someone to shove a whole piece of cake in their mouth but the twins managed it as they gulped it down.  Fred jumped up from his seat as he threw you over his shoulder as he shushed your protests of being to heavy for him to carry, “What do you mean, you’re light as a feather.  You sure you’re eating?”  he continued, “You know you can’t do this to me, baby.  I can’t handle myself when you look like this.”  George followed in pursuit as you giggled.  

Fred practically threw you down on the bed before quickly going to remove your tights, ripping them off.  George settled behind you, hands skillfully unbuttoning your blouse, slowly letting it fall off your shoulders.  George ran his hands down your arms, shivers going down your spine as goosebumps arose.  He huskily whispered in your ear, “We should punish you for trying to be a tease.  I’ve been thinking about you all day.”  His hands ran down your chest before stopped beneath the curve of your breasts as his lips pressed kisses down your neck, biting and sucking.  Fred, on the other hand, was driving you crazy as his hands wandered up your legs, pressing kisses on the inside of your thighs, biting at the soft flesh.  A moan left your lips involuntarily, as Fred’s two fingers pressed against your core, as he pushed the material of your underwear aside.  “We haven’t even started and you’re already this wet, kitten.”  “Stop teasing…” you muttered out to both of them.  George whined softly, “Isn’t this our present?  We just want to enjoy it as long as we can.”  A short guttural whine arose as Fred continued to bite your thighs, fingers pinching your clit before pulling his hand away.  “Don’t be so impatient, y/n.  Good things come for those who wait.”  You whined even louder, needing to feel some sort of friction.  Chuckling he pushed the skirt up, “Do you see how hard you’ve got me?” he questioned.  You looked, his cock was practically begging to be let out from his pants.  You leaned forward, palming him through his pants, before unbuttoning them, swiftly pulling them down along with his briefs as you gulped greedily.  Wetting your lips, you pressed your lips around the tip of his cock, tasting the precum, as you took it whole.  Suppressing a gag as it hit the back of your throat you relaxed, breathing through your nose as Fred praised you,  “Good girl, taking my cock like that.”  You continued bobbing your head on his cock letting it hit the back of your throat as you felt George’s hand slide up your legs.  His fingers rubbed your sensitive clit as you moaned.  Feeling the wetness drip down your legs at George’s attention to your clit made your nerves flare up with sensitivity.  “So, wet for me,” he whispered in your ear, as you felt George’s cock press against your core before sliding in.  His hips thrust forcefully, as you almost lost balance.  The sound of skin smacking skin filled the room as George’s hips met the curve of your ass, as one of his slapped down.  Fred’s cock twitched in your mouth as he reached his high, licking up the side with shorter strokes you finished with taking him whole again and breathing through your nose, letting his hands take your hair as his hips thrust forward.  Fred’s breath hitched as he rode out his high, thick cum filling your mouth as he pulled out.  His finger cleaned away some that slipped from your lips as he smiled, “You took me so well, y/n.”  George’s thrusts seemed to get sloppier as his fingers reached around to give more attention to your already sensitive clit from all his attention earlier.  Moaning filled the room further as your walls squeezed around George’s cock as you felt a feeling of euphoria wash over, head slumping on the bed as you tried to catch your breath.  George thrust a few more times before stopping as you milked his cum out, as he gave a last couple sloppy thrusts before pulling out.  Cum slipped down your thighs along with the empty feeling as you both caught your breath.  George leaned forward pressing a kiss to your forehead, “Thank you for everything today, my love.”  Fred returned from the bathroom which he had retired to take a shower after finishing earlier, “Thank you, sweetheart.”  He ran a cloth over you, cleaning you off as he threw a second one at George, “I’m not cleaning you off, mate.”  “Didn’t ask you to.” George replied, with a hint of humor in his voice.  Fred leaned down, pushing hair away from your face and pressing kisses all over.  You laid down on the bed as George and Fred climbed in on either side, “Love you guys…”  Your eyes fluttered softly as you tried to stay awake, as you heard a reply in unison, “We love you too, y/n.”  Then, you heard the soft banter of the two redheads arguing over who was taking too much of the blanket before you shut your eyes soft smile on your lips, wondering how you got so lucky.

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

Love On-Set (Pt. 06 of 10)

Pairing: Dacre Montgomery X Reader

Summary: You knew acting on Stranger Things season 3 would be a challenge, and you also knew, from the start, you'd have to work closely with Dacre Montgomery. But is wasn't a big deal for you, since this is your job and you're determined to act professionally. You had it all figured out, or so you thought, until the moment you were out face to face with Dacre. Then, this job became a lot harder than it was supposed to be, since you can't seem to focus whenever you're around Dacre. And you'll have to be around him a lot until the end of production.

Word count: 3 K

<- Previous part (05)

Next part (07) ->

{Dacre Montgomery Masterlist}

{Stranger Things Masterlist}

×

Los Angeles

The fresh wind messes with your hair as you squint your eyes at the rising sun. You always loved the beach, but this one is your favorite. The way the light blue color of the ocean mixes with the sky is breathtaking, and you know you could spend all of your days here, just looking at the horizon, not a single worry on your mind. It's peaceful, like paradise. The sand is soft under your bare feet, and there's nobody here yet. It's too early, and the only reason why you're here is because you missed this feeling.

It doesn't matter where you go, you'll always want to return here, even is it's just for a visit. The only sound you hear is from the crashing waves, slow and calming, like music. You can't help but smile, eyes closed to better feel the warmth of the sunlight in your skin.

The unmistakable click of a camera gets your attention, forcing you to open your eyes again. Furrowing your eyebrows, you wonder if someone recognized you. It happened only once, even before the shooting for the season three started when a girl spotted you as the girl who Billy almost ran over. But that was it.

Turning around to check the source of the sound, your heart stops for a moment when you see Dacre, still putting his phone down.

“Sorry, but you were looking so good.” He says, making his way over you.

He's the one looking good. The white pants and pale blue shirt mix perfectly with the atmosphere, light, and relaxing. And all the rest too. His face, his smile, the way he walks. You're quick to notice the first three buttons of his shirt are opened and you wonder if he's getting this idea from Billy. “Me? Please, look at you. You're... Gorgeous.”

“Yeah.” She simply says, finally reaching you. “I'm glad you're still here. I was scared you'd be gone.”

Dacre lives forty-five minutes away from you. It's not that close, but close enough, you think. Maybe it's fate, or so says Millie. Like a sign. “I can't believe you came all the way here.” An hour ago, before you came to the beach, you answered his text to let him know where you would be since you wouldn't bring your phone.

“Better start trying, because here I am.”

Biting your lip to hold back a smile, you turn at the ocean again. “Well, this is one of my favorite places on Earth.”

“I noticed.”

“Really? How?” Crossing your arms, you look at him. Dacre's eyes are as blue as the ocean. But they're much more beautiful.

“The shine in your eyes.” He answers, shrugging his shoulders. “It's pretty obvious if you pay attention.”

“You say these things and I don't even know what to think.” Unlike you, Dacre doesn't try to hide his feelings or thoughts. He's honest, every time.

“Just tell me how you feel about this place.” He lightly touches your arm, and you set in a slow walk.

“Uhm...” You mutter, feeling as his hand slides down your arm until it reaches yours. His fingers linger for a while, and you feel the usual sensation Dacre brings you. Butterflies, moving all over your skin, tickling. Slowly, very, almost painfully, his fingers brush on yours, and when he's just about to let go, you decide to be brave, intertwining your fingers with his. You wait for him to still want to let to, but he doesn't. His grip only gets tighter. “It's beautiful, obliviously.”

“That's it? Is that everything you have to say about one of your favorite places on Earth?” You stop a few feet away from where the ripples reach. “You know you can tell me how you feel, right? I want to know.”

Taking a deep breath, you turn your body towards Dacre, trying not to look as nervous as you feel right now, holding his hand. “This is nostalgic. It's my second home after that house over there.” You gesture at a small group of houses by a cliff. “Mine is the tiniest one. I grew up here but only moved back a year ago. This beach makes me feel... Free. Like there is not a single worry in the world. It's... Bliss.”

Dacre is already looking down at you when your eyes meets his. The smile on his lips sends shivers down your spine. “I'm happy you shared it with me.”

“It's just... A couple of words.” Blushing, you look down. “It doesn't mean anything.”

“It means a lot.” His free hand comes to your face, fingers softly caressing your cheek and jaw. “To both of us.”

You were just about to say something when the water reaches your feet, and you give a little jump. “Oh my Gosh!” You exclaim, giggling.

“Wanna go for a swim?” He asks.

“I can't.” Shrugging your shoulders, you take a look at the ocean. “I don't know how to.”

“What?”

“It's not a big deal.”

“We were shooting next to a pool and you didn't tell me you can't swim?” He sounds a little offended, but when you look at him again, you can tell he's faking it. “I play the lifeguard, I should know that.”

“Well, you never asked.” Letting go of his hand, you start walking backward, away from the water.

“No, no.” He's quick to grab your arm, smirking. “We will go for a dive. C'mon.”

“No way!” You start pulling back, and a small fight starts. “You have your phone with you, remember? You'll ruin it.”

“Let me just–.” Dacre searches on his pocket, easily finding his phone and throwing it on the sand, away from the water. “Problem solved.”

“Dacre...”

“I won't let you drown. Trust me.” His voice invites you in, and you know you can't fight it. And you do trust him.

Sighing, you surrender, allowing him to pull you into the water. Your eyes are focused on his, and it's impossible to keep the usual distance. When your feet stop touching the bottom, you have no choice but to cling onto him, arms around his neck. Dacre holds you tight, arms encircling your waist, and you feel secure in his embrace. Fortunately, the water is calm, and the waves are small. It'll change in a few hours though, but for now, they won't be a problem.

There's nothing else to do now. Your foreheads are almost touching, and there's no space between your bodies. You've never been this close to him, not even on scene. You wonder if he can listen to your heart, beating insanely fast.

“Hold your breath.” He says and you nod, taking the deepest breath you can.

Dacre pulls you down with him, and you close your eyes shut. It only takes a few seconds before you break to the surface again, releasing the air from your lungs and lips breaking into a smile.

“You ok?”

“Yeah. Why?” You ask, letting go of him just to remove some of the hair that was attached to your face.

“Your cheeks are red.”

“Oh...” There's no way to hide it now, standing face to face with him. “I'm alright. I know you won't let your co-star drown.”

“Never.” He whispers, his voice deep and soft. “Actually, I–” Dacre is cut short by his cellphone ringing. It's a low, calming song you don't know.

“Maybe we should go.”

“I know who it is. This magazine wants an interview and a photoshoot but I told them I'd only accept if you could come with me.”

“What?” You giggle, furrowing your eyebrows. “I'm not as famous as you, they wouldn't want me.”

“The whole interview will be about Billy and Stranger Things. People are already shipping Billy and Amy, it'll only make sense if you're there with me.” As he speaks, Dacre starts making his way back to the beach, only letting go of you when you're out of the water. “And the moment season 3 starts, you won't be left alone by the fans, trust me.”

“Would James allow it? Seeing us together will raise suspicions.”

“Yeah, I texted James about it. He said it's a good idea, to get people hyped for the next season.” Dacre carefully picks up his phone. “What do you say? We could even go out after. Have dinner somewhere nice.”

Does he mean it like a date? It can't be... Right? “Ok, then. When is it?”

“Tomorrow afternoon. I'll pick you up.”

Smiling, you nod, biting your lip.

You would stay the whole day with Dacre, but you had promised your mother you'd spend the day with her. And Dacre understands it. You took him to your house so he could dry himself and have breakfast since he only had a cup of coffee.

When he leaves, your mother makes a lot of questions, and you're happy to answer. She teases you a lot, making silly comments and reminding you how handsome Dacre is throughout the day. You don't need to be reminded though, you know it very well.

When the next day comes, you patiently wait for him after having lunch and taking a fresh shower. You wonder if you'll always feel this nervous about Dacre. Just the thought of seeing him in a couple of minutes sends a shiver down your spine, makes your stomach burn with anticipation. When the doorbell rings, you jump up, taking your bag, and ignoring the stare your mother gives you.

“Bye, mom.” You mutter, heading to the front door. Taking a deep breath, you open it, trying not to smile. And failing. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He says back, and you start making your way to his car. “Excited?”

“Wondering what they'll ask. They always want some spoilers.” You get into the passenger seat, blushing with the fact that Dacre just opened the door for you.

“That they do.”

The ride is filled with chattering. You tell him about your childhood and he does the same. Eventually, you're not sure how exactly, you have your hand on his shoulder as he drives, then on his neck. He touches your leg every once in a while, and you can't help but blush a little.

But soon enough you're at this amazing, luxury hotel. The photoshoot will take place at the pools, which are absolutely incredible. It's huge, and there's an aisle in the middle, with a bridge that leads to it. A stylist comes to take you to the dressing room so you can change. It'll be 80's themed, so your swimsuit is very colorful, blue, green, and pink. The one piece is open on the sides and on the back, and it looks amazing. Your hair is done very quickly, beach waves with some volume. It takes an hour until you're allowed out, and Dacre is ready, talking to a guy. He looks good, his blue and green shirt unbuttoned, leaving his chest exposed.

“Hey,” you mutter when you're close enough. “Looking good.”

“Not as good as you.” He says, winking. “We were waiting for you, the interview happens now, then the photoshoot.”

“Alright.” Dacre guides you to a small scenario, with three chairs and a huge Stranger Things poster behind. The cameras are already positioned, and a woman comes to pin the microphones on your suits.

Once everything is ready, you and Dacre sit down, and a middle-aged woman takes the seat before you, a smile on her lips. The interview goes on very well, with small questions about what the public can expect from the new season, and from the relationship between Billy and Amy. People are really excited about it, you didn't know how much. You make a self note to make some research, to know where exactly the fans stand.

It was great until the video in the gym comes up. “I think it's pretty obvious, but that got people talking.” The woman, Maryan, says. “So I gotta ask. Is there anything happening between you two? Away from the cameras?”

You exchange a glance with Dacre, and you have no idea what to say. You don't want to say no, but you're too scared to say yes...

“Well, if there is you'll find out soon or later so...” Dacre speaks up, and you can tell this is the gentle way of saying this isn't her business.

She seems happy with that, making a quick remark before finishing the interview. Then different people take over. The photographer, a short man with grey hair and a huge camera starts guiding you around the pools. The stylist comes to fix your hair every time you strike a pose. And obviously, it takes little time for you and Dacre to be put close, very close.

You have fun though, laughing at his jokes about how weird things can get on these things. And that he's happy you're here.

“Alright. (Y/N), lie down, please. Dacre, sit down beside her.” Nodding, you follow the instructions. Half your body is in the shadow and the other half under the sunlight as you lie down near the pool. “Dacre, I want you to look down at her, and (Y/N), reach out your hand to touch his face.”

Trying to keep it professional, you do as he says. Dacre's eyes burn right through you, and you would give all the money you have to know what he's thinking. Slowly, you caress his jaw with your thumb, realizing you never touched him like this.

“You ok?” He asks, for the hundredth time. Dacre is always making sure you're comfortable, but the truth is that you're more than comfortable. You're actually starting to crave for this proximity, for his touch.

“Yeah...”

The camera flashes and you smile. “Look over here.” The photographer commands and you follow. “Amazing, amazing.”

The good news is that you're enjoying yourself. The bad news is that they make you get inside the pool, which is too deep. So all the photos have you on Dacre's arms, and honestly, you don't mind one bit.

The night is falling when the photoshoot is over and Dacre takes you to one of his favorites restaurants. It was an area on the back from which you have a view of the city. You both continue talking about childhood memories and stuff like that, and you tell him about your father. How he forced both you and your mother to put the walls high, to keep people away. Dacre is so kind though, reassuring you he wants to get in. That he wants to know how you feel, all the time. You still wonder if he means it though, you can't help it. But by the end of the night, after you both ate the desert and are now just chattering, you feel like he means it.

“Oh, have you read the script they sent us? They changed so many things they had to add another episode.” Dacre says, elbows on the table.

“Of course I didn't.” Shrugging your shoulders, you raise an eyebrow. “We got a five days vacation and that means no work. And since I have you to read it and tell me everything... Why should I?”

“Really? Are you making me do all the hard work in scene?” He makes a pause when the waiter comes with the check.

“James always likes it better when we improvise anyways.”

“I have no idea why.” He says, taking the check.

“Hey, we can–”

“I'm paying and that's not up to discussion.” He cuts you off, giving you a glance as he leaves the money on the table before standing up.

“But–”

“(Y/N), I...” You were just about to head to the exit when he stops, still near the table. “I'm not sure if I made it clear, I should've have... But this was supposed to be a date.”

Blushing, you gasp, looking at him in the eyes. “It kinda felt like a date but I didn't want to assume anything.”

“Well, if you're ok with it, I'd like this to be the first date.” Some people walk by, so you set in motion, walking towards the exit and to the parking lot.

“I'm ok with that.” More than ok, actually. Your stomach feels funny as he opens the passenger door for you, and your skin is on fire.

“Well...” He mumbles as he gets in, starting the car. “It's still a little early but since we have a flight tomorrow morning, we'll both need to get some sleep.”

“Definitely.” You agree. Tomorrow you'll be flying back to the set, straight to the kissing scene. As if he's listening to your thoughts, Dacre gives you a glance. “Excited to go back to work?”

“I am actually.” He nods, eyes on the road.

“Why?” It comes out suddenly because you can't help but wonder if it's for the kiss. If he wants to kiss you as you want to kiss him.

“...I miss the guys, that's all.”

“Oh...” Shifting in your seat, you look away from him, eyes on the road ahead. Your heart sinks a little, and now you're genuinely confused. “Me too.”

“Yeah.” He mumbles, a hand running through his hair.

The rest of the ride to your place is silent, and when you get there, you mutter a goodbye. Once you're inside, away from Dacre, you can't help but feel a little stupid. Maybe you're misreading the signs. He did say today was supposed to be a date, so you don't get why he ignored the kiss. He knows that's the scene you'll be shooting tomorrow night. You'll be thrown back into work straight into the very scene you've been worrying about since the beginning. You were hoping he'd say something, make it easier or... You just don't know anymore. If Dacre wants a date, he should want a kiss too, right? Isn't it how it works?

Not even the fresh shower helps you understand what's going on. With you or with Dacre. Climbing into bed, you feel the wind invading the bedroom, but you're too lost in thoughts to enjoy it. The truth is that you were excited to do it, to shoot that scene and finally kiss him, but now... Now you feel as you did on the first day.

The soft notification sound of your phone gets your attention. Stretching your arm, you take it. It's a voice message from Dacre. Maybe he regrets the whole first date thing and he wants you to know... It'll only make things worse, but you should know it. The sooner the better. You're a professional, and you'll manage to do your job no matter what.

Taking a deep breath, you unlock your phone, pressing play on the message and bringing the phone to your ear.

You can hear his heavy breath before any words come. It takes a couple of seconds until his voice breaks through. “I probably shouldn't say this through a message, but I think I won't be able to sleep if I don't let you know how I feel.” A pause, something falling on the background. “Tomorrow on the scene... It won't be Billy and Amy, it'll be you and me.” This makes you sit up straight, a hand in your heart as it starts beating dangerously fast. “I can't be Billy when I'm with you, when we're so close, it just... I've been breaking character every time and I never struggled so much with a character before.” His voice is heavy with sleep. “I know you've been struggling too and I have no idea why I didn't tell you all this in the car, I just... I really like you and tomorrow I'll kiss you but I didn't want our the first kiss to be like that... So I'm just letting you know when it happens it won't be Billy, it'll be me and... And I hope it'll be you too. Good night, (Y/N).”

His voice is long gone, but you keep still, frozen, eyes on the wall across the room. You can't believe what you just heard.

×

@baker151910 @shinydixon @dreamin-of-dacre @hanoi15 @lickmymelanin @foccus @multific @uncookspaget @kellysimagines @peakascum

[mostlycompetentwriter]

“Back Door” (TMT Part 2)

F/M Pairing: Y/N x Han Jisung (SKZ); Some Mentions of Y/N x Bang Chan and Y/N x Changbin

Warnings: Language and Mature Content

Word Count: 5K

Genre: High School AU! Sequel!

Summary: In the grand scheme of things, Y/N should’ve known better than to expect everything to work out on its own. But is she ready to face the consequences of her actions?

A/N: Read TMT Here!!

The sun had barely peaked through the blinds when I felt a sharp pain in my lower back. 

It was both unexpected and jarring, and I winced at the dull, persistent ache, attempting to turn over onto my side, when I realized that I couldn’t because a strong grip was keeping me held in place. Then, there was nothing but dread overtaking the previous disorientation of my exhaustion, and I cringed when Jisung made a soft noise and pulled me even closer, burying his face against my shoulder.

“Shit!” I cursed under my breath, trying to free myself from his hold because the vestiges of panic were beginning to take root, and images from our previous night together were flying through my head at an exponential pace.

Holy shit! I slept with Jisung!

“Don’t think so hard, baby,” Jisung purred, and he was nipping playfully at the skin surrounding my collarbone.

The picture of confidence in contradiction to the shy little boy from the previous night who could barely keep his cock from falling out.

“I’m not,” I protested, even as I continued squirming around in his arms, feeling a shock travel up my spine when I accidentally felt his flaccid length against my thigh.

“Mmm,” Jisung murmured, breaths hot against my face as he pressed a kiss to the corner of my lip. “You still look pretty in the mornings.” He chuckled, reaching back with one hand to brush through his disastrous hair. “I’m sure I look like a mess.”

“Jisung,” I said as sternly as possible because I knew I needed to be forceful, to keep him from acting like this could be anything normal for us. Because he and I both needed to admit that this was a big mistake. “I need to use the bathroom.”

“Oh!” Jisung remarked, and I could breath a sigh of relief when he removed his arm from around my waist. “Hurry back.”

I rolled my eyes at his tone, cursing the existence of last night over and over again as I wrapped a blanket around my torso before moving through the house to the guest bathroom on the lower floor. “What the fuck have you done!” I groaned when I greeted my reflection in the mirror - eyes bloodshot from the alcohol, and feminine features holding so much tension from the horrors of the morning after whatever the hell I had allowed to happen between me and Jisung.

After all these years of dissuading Jisung’s advances, I just committed the worst sin of them all: I gave him an opening to the thing he wanted most from me. 

“Calm down,” I whispered to that grisly reflection, splashing water against my face as I sucked down multiple deep breaths.

“Y/N!” I heard Jisung call for me, even all the way downstairs separated by an entire floor.

It still wasn’t enough separation.

“Coming!” I shouted back because I knew I couldn’t avoid this, especially not with someone like Jisung. Someone who had been admiring me from afar from so long. Someone who was way too close to ignore because of his life-long friendship with Felix.

I couldn’t run from what I helped to create, so I gathered as much confidence as I could muster while still looking like shit in the mirror, walking slowly back upstairs while trying to make sense of the chaos breaking through the desire to live in an independent world where everything was fine.

“There you are,” Jisung chirped from where he had made himself comfortable at the counter in the kitchen, pouring milk into two glasses. “You wanna order some breakfast?”

“Not hungry,” I said, sliding into place in front of one of the glasses.

“Oh, sure,” Jisung replied, and he shook off my frigid tone. “The milk is good.”

“Yeah,” I muttered, watching him from the corner of my eye as he sat down next to me.

“I checked the date, so don’t worry,” he said with a giggle, perfectly at ease in the familiar setting of my kitchen. Except that nothing was normal, it couldn’t be taken that way after all the events that transpired last night.

“I trust you,” I whispered, looking down vacantly into the milky white liquid.

“Well, where do you want to go today?” Jisung asked, and I experienced the sharp sting of guilt - a nasty feeling weighing heavily on my chest - when his smile reached both corners of his eyes. “We can do what you want.”

“We should talk...” I said, trailing off when Jisung nodded.

“We can talk,” he agreed. “I like listening to you.”

“Jisung.” I sighed, hating that he was so nice because it made it difficult to say the things that would drive that smile away. “It’s kinda heavy...”

“You don’t have to say it then,” Jisung insisted, and I felt hurt all over again when I realized that he thought the words would affect me! That they might make me sad and he wanted to assure me that I never had to vocalize such difficult subjects. 

“I need to say it,” I continued. “I mean, there’re plenty of other things I’d rather do, but this is important.”

“Oh?” Jisung smirked, and I knew that his mind had traveled somewhere else. “Do you want to have sex again?” Jisung continued as if I had never spoken. “I had a lot of fun with you last night.”

“That’s the whole problem,” I said, swallowing hard before pushing it out. “Jisung, about last night-”

DING DONG!

I frowned when the sound of the doorbell ringing interrupted my chain of thought, especially when Jisung was so quick to scoot off his chair to answer whoever it was waiting on the other side. “Hold on,” I said, following behind him just in time to see the person standing on the porch. “Chan?”

“Hey,” Chan greeted us, and his previous smile was displaced by a chastened look, searching between the two of us with a curious expression. “Were you two together?”

“Jisung stays over sometimes,” I said, talking over Jisung before he could proclaim us as soulmates. 

“Ah,” Chan nodded. “So, you’re not busy?”

“Not right now,” I agreed, trying to push off a stubbornly persistent Jisung while Chan continued to study us from the porch.

“Okay, well, Changbin’s having a party at his place tonight,” Chan said. “If you guys want to come.”

“I don’t know...”

“We’d love to,” Jisung intervened, taking his turn to speak over me, but I couldn’t think of a worse scenario.

“Great,” Chan said, and his smile was back as he started to retreat. “I’ll see you guys there.”

Saturday

I couldn’t change Jisung’s mind, which meant that my arm was neatly tucked into his as he led us up the sidewalk to Changbin’s lavish home.

Although, mansion might be a more accurate description.

“Are you excited?” Jisung asked, pulling me away from my study of the intimate ornate columns and impressive Greco-Roman inspired architecture.

“Once I get ahold of some alcohol,” I grumbled, and Jisung laughed like it was the funniest thing I had ever said to him.

“We’ve got you covered, baby,” Jisung said, and I rolled my eyes at the petname, especially when he was using it on me.

Especially when he continued using it on me. All. Week. Long.

Walking up to Changbin’s house in the middle of the night while listening to Jisung talk about the man in question like they had known each other for their entire lives.

“I wonder where he is?” Jisung questioned when we joined the impossible fray of students - high school and college alike - spreading throughout the grandeur space inside.

“I might know a few places,” I murmured because Jisung wasn’t meant to overhear, and my eyes were drawn to the secluded corners of the house, the places that Changbin seemed inclined to escape to just like the first night we met one another. 

“Let’s find something to drink,” Jisung said, and I nodded my head and followed him into the other room.

It didn’t take long to find a couple beers, twisting off the tops and drinking while several students - probably friends of Chan and Changbin who had introduced their new third piece - crowded around me and Jisung to ask him questions about the 3racha.

“We’re releasing a special project soon,” Jisung said, and I could tell he was enjoying the attention.

But it must be nice to get some recognition for a passion that you had spent years perfecting.

It also provided the perfect opportunity for me to slip away from his careful eye, wandering back into the main room where a familiar figure captured my attention hidden away near the fireplace in the den.

“Y/N,” Changbin greeted me with his familiar smirk, beckoning me closer while drinking from his glass.

“I thought you might be away from the action,” I said, feeling a bit more comfortable next to Changbin, and far from the prying eyes of the other students.

“It gets crowded,” he said, and we both turned to the sudden sound of raucous laughter, emanating from the same room where I had just left. “You came with Jisung?”

“Yeah, but he found some admirers,” I said, attempting to make a joke of the situation.

“You two must be together,” Changbin remarked, and the corner of his mouth lifted into something resembling an arrogant look. “He acts like it.”

“Don’t mind him,” I said, rolling my eyes. “We haven’t really talked about things.”

“Oh?” Changbin hummed. “Why is that?”

“Because it was a mistake,” I insisted, but saying it loud didn’t necessarily reflect the confusing ball of emotions that I felt buried away around my heart.

“Mistake?” Changbin repeated, and his eyes glossed over with a mischievous gleam, reaching down for my hand to pull me along with him upstairs. “That’s interesting.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, but I didn’t protest when he opened the door to what I imagined to be his bedroom, slamming it closed behind him before leading me over to the bed. 

“Jisung wouldn’t agree with you,” Changbin said, and he pushed me down onto the mattress. “In fact, Jisung told me before that you were the love of his life.”

Changbin rolled his eyes at the cheesy sentiment, crawling over top of me with a predatory glare. “Jisung doesn’t know anything about love,” I retorted, and my body was responding to Changbin’s advances, craving his skilled touches as I guided his hand down to the hem of my skirt.

“Remember when I finger-fucked you in my car?” he whispered directly into my ear, free hand coming down to hold my waist.

“Yes,” I whined in return, swallowing hard when his fingers moved along the sensitive skin of my inner thighs, snapping the band of my panties into place when they reached even higher, leaving intimate goosebumps in their wake.

“Do you want me to do it again?” he growled in a low timber that sent shivers down my spine.

“Please,” I panted against his lips, desperate for him to eliminate the remaining distance between us....

But then the spell was broken.

Jarring us both away from one another, gazes drawn to the door.

“What the hell are you two doing!”

“Shit!” I cursed, pushing Changbin back as my eyes immediately flew to Jisung’s horrified expression. Standing in the doorway to Changbin’s bedroom with his mouth almost reaching the floor.

“Relax,” Changbin spoke nonchalantly, sitting back on his knees. “Why are you so tense?”

I roughly elbowed him in the side, deciding that he was far too much of a jerk in that moment to warrant anything less. 

Still, there was the issue of Jisung who had obviously taken precedence, and everyone was silent while I tried to formulate something. Any semblance of an explanation that might help me avoid an impending meltdown. “Jisung-”

“No!” Jisung screeched, and I was taken aback at the primitive noise that had just come from him. “You won’t treat me like this.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I snapped in return.

“Don’t play stupid, Y/N,” Jisung continued, and I was surprised to see Jisung acting so unhinged. “You know how I feel about you. I’ve always tried to show you that much, but then I bring you here and you sneak off to try and fuck Changbin?”

I opened my mouth to say anything, but there was nothing that could’ve prepared so this onslaught of passionate rage from Jisung. The same boy who usually batted his eyelids at me and giggled at jokes from his friends.

“We never talked about anything,” I eventually said.

“You never gave us a chance,” Jisung said, and I realized that he was right, even though I tried the other morning.

There had always been plenty of chances.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, but Jisung scoffed and gave me a bitter-sounding laugh.

“You’re not sorry,” he said, and the words echoed around inside my head, even after he left without any further consideration for me.

“Well, that was weird,” Changbin chuckled, and he started to kiss me again, like nothing had even transpired.

“What the hell are you doing?” I hissed at him. “Are you serious?”

“Why not?” Changbin shrugged. “We’re both just looking for a quick fuck, right?”

“Is that what you think?” I asked him. “That I’m just a quick fuck?”

“Obviously,” Changbin snorted. “Haven’t I been playing you just right this entire time, baby?”

I nearly screamed at his mocking use of Jisung’s petname, shouldering past him in my haste to get away from him. “You’re a dick,” I growled, even as the sharp sting of tears threatened to expose my façade of masked indifference, and I refused to show someone who had manipulated my emotions that they were even remotely successful in making me feel completely useless.

I had the radio playing in the background when I drove to Chan and Changbin’s studio the next morning.

There was a part of me that wanted to make peace with Jisung, on the off chance that he was even there, but an even bigger part who just wanted to hide from those confusing emotions. To choose something even more powerful to mask the hurt.

Lust, for example, which guided me into the studio where I discovered Chan sitting behind a computer in one of the production rooms.

“Y/N,” he said, noticing my arrival and removing his headphones. “I’m surprised to see you here.”

“I just wanted to come by,” I said, sauntering closer to him, hoping that he could pick up on what I wanted from him.

“Jisung isn’t here,” Chan said, and I flinched at his name but remained undeterred.

“I’m not here for him,” I said, lowering my tone. 

“I heard what happened at the party,” Chan tried again, but I didn’t allow him to finish his thought, straddling his thighs before locking our lips together in a desperate kiss. “Y/N,” he spoke in the very limited space between our mouths, clashing and bruising together.

“Just fuck me, please,” I begged him, digging my fingers into his shirt as I forced our lips together once again.

“No,” Chan groaned, and I was more than taken aback when he pushed me away. Not enough to send me sprawling out of his lap, but enough to make a clear point.

“Why?” I whispered, feeling myself teeter on the edge of tears which didn’t make any sense. There was no reason to be upset, and I blamed Jisung and the way he messed with my most volatile emotions,

“I shouldn’t have done anything with you,” Chan said. “It was a stupid competitive thing with Changbin.”

“You regret it?” I asked, breaking the skin of my lower lip between my teeth, tasting blood before Chan sighed and forced me to relax.

“Maybe that was the wrong thing to say, but after hearing Jisung talk about you...” Chan trailed off, and I was suddenly even more upset when he left me to fill in the blanks.

“I didn’t come here to talk about Jisung,” I said, feeling my mental state perform a complete 180, wiping away any evidence of those pesky tears.

“You came here to avoid him,” Chan said. “But is it really the right thing to do?”

“Since when do you care?” I asked with a harsh exhale, and Chan nodded like he was perfectly accepting of my anger.

“I don’t deserve to be on good terms with you,” Chan continued. “Changbin and I...we were both very manipulative with our intentions.”

“You took advantage of me,” I hissed, and Chan’s eyes widened as he shook his head fiercely.

“No!” he said, and it was very stern. “I would never do that to anyone! Well, I mean, I’m terrible with relationships.”

I frowned. “You should’ve told me. The upfront dishonesty is not appreciated.”

Chan sighed at my implication. “Look, I told you that I can’t seem to get anything right, but if there’s one person who was always honest with you-”

“Jisung,” I interrupted him with a sigh. “Yeah, I know.”

“Seriously, Y/N,” Chan said, taking a firm grip on my chin to force my eyes to meet his own. “Talk to him. Forget about me and Changbin.”

“That’s hard to do since Minho likes you,” I quipped, and he chuckled.

“You can pretend to like me,” Chan offered, and I shrugged because maybe it was a good compromise.

“Fine, pretending works,” I said. “Especially since you’re kind of an asshole.”

Chan winced at my words. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

“I’m glad we’re in agreement, but I came here to do something stupid again,” I said. “I guess I failed.”

“Not really,” Chan said, and he reached behind him for a discarded piece of paper. “Come watch us perform this weekend,” Chan said, holding out the flyer which I accepted. “Make it up to him.”

I gritted my teeth together, reading the headline of the flyer before looking back at Chan. “He won’t forgive me.”

“Well, not until you come to terms with what you want first,” Chan said, and I knew that he was right. 

“I don’t think I want him...”

“Are you sure about that?” Chan asked. “Think hard on it, and I’ll save you a good seat and a bottle of beer.”

“That’s hard to resist,” I said, and I slowly gathered myself out of his lap, readjusting my clothes and brushing off the imaginary dust that couldn’t possibly have collected on the fabric. “I’ll see you soon then.”

Chan nodded, holding out his hand for me to shake. “Consider it a peace offering.”

I scoffed at the display, but accepted his extension of peace or whatever nonetheless. 

Yeah, he made it hard to stay mad at him, even though he deserved every bit of my wrath, but he also made it hard not to see the obvious reasoning with making things right with Jisung. 

One of the few people in my life who had never been anything but kind.

It was Saturday night, and I was nervous and anxious when I walked inside the venue where 3racha would be performing.

Thankfully, my brothers had also been invited, and I found them in the crowd quickly, determined to stick to their sides until I had enough confidence to face Jisung alone. 

“Get ready!” Felix shouted when the overheard music turned down low, signaling the crowd to turn their attention towards the stage where Chan, Changbin, and Jisung were all walking out, microphones in hand.

I shifted next to Minho when I noticed Jisung, decked out in an all-black ensemble, beanie cap pulled low over his eyes. 

“Looks like Jisung invaded Chan’s closet,” Minho quipped, and Felix snorted around his drink while I found myself studying the way his lithe figure was heavily accentuated by the tight leather.

“3rd Eye, are you ready to get loud?” Chan bellowed into the microhome, and the crowd answered his call with raucous yelling as thumping, heavy bass music began to play in the background.

And then, right before my very eyes, little Han Jisung, Felix’s dorky best friend, stepped forward to the edge of the stage and started to rap his lyrics at a speed that surely defied the very barrier of space and time?

“Holy shit,” I said, finding myself drawn into Jisung’s careful handling of the beat, riding its dips and flaws with mastery, leading the crowd with some kind of invisible magnetism. “Jisung is really good!”

“Of course, he is,” Felix scoffed, like I should’ve known better. “He’s been practicing since middle school.”

“He has?” I returned, but the question went unanswered as Felix enthusiastically continued to cheer for his friend, and I was caught up in the whirlwind of the crowd’s enthusiasm while my own heart beat incredibly fast for several much different reasons.

Their stage ended on a high, and I found that my voice was hoarse from screaming with the rest of the patrons, clapping like a madwoman while 3racha disappeared backstage. 

“Let’s see if we can find, Sung,” Felix suggested, and any prior elation was gone as I remembered my original purpose for coming here.

“I’d love to congratulate him,” Minho agreed, and I reluctantly followed my brothers to the backstage entrance where a bouncer noticed them and waved them forward.

Must be some kind of friend privileges.

Regardless, it brought me to where I needed to be, and I hesitated when we were pulled even deeper between sound equipment and storage containers.

“Where are they?” Minho asked.

“I see Chan,” Felix said, pointing ahead of us, and I bit back my disappointment at finding Chan first.

“You guys made it,” Chan said, coming over to greet us, giving Minho some weird, elaborate handshake.

I rolled my eyes at their boyish oddities, glancing around the backstage area, not looking for anything in particular, until....

Jisung. Standing over there with another girl.

I froze, watching as Jisung leaned in closer to whisper directly into her ear in a decidedly intimate exchange.

“Jisung?” I whispered, and it was enough to steal Minho’s attention who followed my gaze with a chuckle.

“Does Jisung have a girlfriend?”

I swallowed hard at the question, the bitter taste of disappointment, and I ran despite Minho and Felix calling my name. Despite the overbearing sensation of Jisung’s eyes following me the entire time.

It was late when my brothers came home, discovering me sitting alone in the living room.

Felix was the first to react, releasing a loud sigh before he came to sit next to me on the couch. “Rough night?” he asked, voice gruff from the exertion of screaming at the concert.

“You could say that,” I muttered in return, picking at the stitching on the pillow in my lap.

“I guess this is about Jisung,” Minho added, coming to stand in front of me with that stupid concerned look on his face.

“Forget it,” I said. “It isn’t anyone else’s business.”

“Jisung is my friend,” Felix said, and he seemed affronted. “It actually is my business.”

“Fine,” I snapped, turning to glare at Minho. “But you can’t say anything.”

“Yes, I can,” Minho replied. “Because I’m usually the only one who can get you to listen!”

I frowned at the assertion, slumping down even lower against the cushions. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Too bad,” Minho said, and he stubbornly collapsed next to me despite my warning. “Chan told us everything.”

I sat up immediately, feeling my mouth drop open as I looked at Minho. “What do you mean?”

“We know you have a thing for Jisung,” Minho teased.

“No, I don’t!”

“Then why were you all angsty when you saw him with that other girl?” Felix intervened, snickering at my awe-struck expression. “Besides, you don’t think Jisung wasn’t bragging about finally sleeping with the love of his life?”

“I’m not the love of his life,” I grumped. “He clearly doesn’t care about me.”

“Then you’re blind and stupid,” Felix said, thoughtful as always. But then his expression turned serious. “Y/N, Jisung’s been in love with you since middle school, and I should know because he never shut up about you.”

I sighed at the admission, wrestling with the incessant desire to keep my mouth shut and that smaller part of me that longed to confess everything. “I never knew I wanted him,” I said. “Until I saw him with that other girl...how fucked up is that?”

“It’s not fucked up,” Minho said. “Sometimes, it takes...extraneous circumstances to convince us of our feelings.”

“Especially if that person is you,” Felix continued. “You’re stubborn to a fault.”

“Am not!” I huffed, realizing only a moment later that I was proving their point.

“Look, just give him a chance to explain himself, Y/N,” Minho said. “You clearly owe him an apology, and you both have a lot to talk about.”

“I know,” I begrudgingly agreed, and it was only after I thought about how utterly destroyed I felt after seeing Jisung tonight that I was struck with the weight of importance for what I had to do.

It was Chan’s idea, really, to invite me back to the studio, conveniently at the same time when Jisung was set to record his part for their next single.

At first, I resisted because I didn’t want to interrupt Jisung at work, but then my brothers reminded me that it probably had a lot more to do with myself refusing to face up to my mistakes rather than some kind of respect for professional boundaries.

Nonetheless, I had no idea what I planned to say to Jisung because I could rehearse a given set of words a thousand times, but when it came to actually confronting him, they could all disappear from my head. And instead of floundering around trying to remember them all, I think it might be better to talk to him in the moment as I formulated some semblance of a worthy apology for the hurt I had caused him.

It was also still new, this coming to terms with the fact that Felix’s best friend might be someone who could mean something more to me than that kid who always flirted and shyly whispered hello’s and goodbye’s whenever he came over to spend the night.

But maybe talking would help me figure things out, and after knocking on the studio door, I put on my best smile when Jisung’s face appeared from the other side.

Unfortunately, he wore a scowl that could scare even the bravest of souls, and I was more or less intimidated after asking him if I could come inside. 

“I guess,” Jisung said, leaving the door open for me to close before returning to his seat at the production stand.

“So,” I started, trailing off as I glanced around the room. “This is a nice set-up.”

“Yeah,” Jisung said, offering nothing more, and telling me all I needed to know about his openness to starting a conversation with me.

“Right,” I agreed, clearing my throat. “Uh, Jisung? I just wanted to apologize for the other night at the party. It was really out of line for me to act the way I did.”

“Huh,” Jisung scoffed. “I don’t think you really mean that.”

I winced at his dismissal. “I’m being genuine.”

“Hard for me to tell,” Jisung replied, and I shook my head because this was going horribly wrong and I expected him to kick me out at any moment. 

“Your performance was good the other night,” I tried again. “I really like the music, and your rapping is super good.”

“Thanks,” he muttered dryly.

“Seriously,” I insisted. “You’re really talented, and I guess other people noticed before me, which is stupid. But I’m happy for you, and I just want you to do whatever brings you the best opportunities....Oh! And I think your girlfriend is really pretty, not that it’s any of my business-”

“Girlfriend?” Jisung interrupted, turning around to look at me with a confused expression.

“Yeah? The girl I saw you with backstage the other night?” I said, wondering if Jisung was acting this way on purpose.

“You mean my cousin?” he asked, wrinkling his nose in obvious revulsion. “Why would you assume that?”

I groaned, resisting the urge to bang my head against the wall because I was only making things harder and even more awkward. “I didn’t know...I guess it just surprised me, and I took off...” I paused at the confession, fanning myself with one hand. 

“You thought I was dating someone else?” Jisung said. “And it made you feel...?”

“Betrayed,” I sighed, bowing my head in shame. “I guess you probably felt the same way when you saw me with Changbin.”

Jisung frowned, cheeks dusted with red as he considered me. “Yeah, Y/N, I wasn’t happy to see you with someone else after everything that happened between us.”

“I’m sorry, Jisung,” I whispered. “For everything. I’m literally the worst person on Earth, and you don’t even have to pretend to forgive me or anything. You can just ignore whenever you come over....I probably deserve it.”

Jisung shook his head, playing with the pen held poised between his fingers. “I won’t ignore you.”

I raised my head to meet his gaze. “Honestly, Jisung, seeing that girl the other night made me feel even more ridiculous because I shouldn’t need something like that to happen to make me realize that I really do like you.”

“Y/N...”

“No, really!” I insisted. “I’ve always seen you as Felix’s best friend, but that was stupid and wrong, and I’m sorry for making you hurt and leading you on or whatever. So, like, I needed to tell you how horrible I am, and you can take the apology or curse my existence, whatever! I just needed you to know.”

There was a long moment of quiet between us, and Jisung kept looking at me like he was trying to see past me. 

“You are kinda ridiculous,” Jisung finally said, and I released a deep breath that I didn’t know I had been holding.

“I talked to Felix and Minho,” I said. “They told me that you’ve always liked me.”

“Yeah,” Jisung said, a little bit sheepishly as his ears turned bright red. “That’s always been a thing.”

I giggled at his words. “So...what do we do now?”

“I don’t know,” he said, shrugging his shoulders, but there was something resembling a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Whatever we want, maybe?”

My smile grew wider because it wasn’t anything like a label, but that just might be the right direction for the two of us. Taking the time to come together after having our paths zig-zag in opposing directions for so long. “Okay,” I agreed, feeling the cold distance minimize like an imaginary conveyor belt was pulling us closer. “Let’s go with that: whatever we want.”

[dancing-the-hellfire-rumba]

I See You Clearly Now

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 0, babeyy. Complicated human relationships, maybe.

Word Count: 5.5k, once again, what the absolute fuck, who am I

Summary: An impromptu all nighter and a very domestic day with Sam who is- he’s a crush, right? Right?

A/N: This was basically me working through my emotions for a person in my life. I don’t-

Also, this was half because of an anonymous request I got the other day that wrote “please some sam winchester x reader but maybe an au with no creepy scary things” Here you go, hon. I’d argue complicated feelings are scarier than monsters, but whatever lights your candle :)

It’s four in the morning and she doesn’t particularly know when the decision was made to ignore the black night sky or the time, or how both Madison and her mutually agreed to it, but sleep is not close in the horizon. College life is exhausting, but this week was uneventful and slow, unmoving to the point of boredom. The beers in her fridge were staring angrily back at her, and her contacts seemed to anticipate her texts. Madison was the first choice, she hadn’t seen her in a while.

And where I go / Singing song of your affection / With rhymes to your perfection / Of you

I see you clearly now / I hold you dearly now / The sun is in my eyes (x)

Meeting arranged, hugs in hello and rosy cheeks, because her apartment is always warm, beers cracked open and drunk, and now Madison is on one of her white, comfortable lounge chairs, angrily ranting about Steve Rogers and Marvel. It’s that hour of the early morning when everything feels a bit gooey and intangible, stretched and fabricated, and there’s nowhere she’d rather be, content in defending a character she loves, warm, belly full of light alcohol and midnight-made crepes. Her cat moves loosely in the room, pointedly ignoring both humans, and Y/n’s cozy and happy to see the wild motions of her friend’s hands as she yells- the mild worry in the back of her head that she’ll find a note with a noise complaint taped on her door the next morning.

For all she cares, nothing could make this any better.

The night continues, laughter over Youtube videos and reality competition failures, repeated funny clips and belly-holding, more hurting of the cheeks from the laughter, more snacks, and she’s forgotten what that feels like in her never ending, break-neck-paced everyday life.

Time passes full of smiles and even more green cans of beer. Pyjamas are worn, sleeping bags are stretched on the floor over the fluffy grey rug, her cat seemingly having found a new enemy in the whipping of the sheets in the air. They laugh at her playing with them, until she settles on her little spot over her soft blanket. The girls stretch in their makeshift beds and they talk, texts are shot to other friends, also awake, selfies full of grins and-

“Sam says hello,” is all Madison has to say for Y/n to suddenly feel his absence in the room.

Sam. Of course.

“Gimme your phone.” Tipsy voice message with off-key singing sent. More happy smiles. A reply, a voice message of his own- “I’m glad you two are having fun. Where are you guys?”.

Y/n’s place, the reply is sent.

“Should I tell him to come by?” And Y/n has to hold her heart in steel hands to force it not to jump out of her chest and straight into her throat. Somehow, Sam always shows up when Madison calls, she thinks, a bitter taste in her mouth. Jealousy. Bottom lip bitten.

“Of course, if he wants to.” She hates to admit she’s excited to see him. Hates it, because she hasn’t talked to him in five months- not properly anyways- and the idea that Madison somehow is always in contact with him makes the familiar knife twist. The two had dated, sure, they’re friends now, a chemistry shared between them that’s inexplicable. It makes her wonder how two people can be so familiar with each other, how they can always be so fucking happy, bouncing off of each other, the sparks fly, people wonder why they broke up (Madison fell in love with someone else. Y/n doesn’t know how Sam reacted.)

Madison and her are friends, sure, but it seems everyone from that side of her friendships is close, but not enough to touch, so Madison never talked about it to her. Sam didn’t either. In fact Sam never even mentioned they’re dating. Sam never ever talks about his relationships. Not to her. He once told her, in that one phone call that lasted four hours until 6 in the morning, the one she can’t seem to forget, that he thinks his love life is nobody’s business. He’s vulnerable with it. Doesn’t share it ever with pretty much anyone (he’d share it with Madison, she thinks bitterly.) Sam, additionally, rarely answers her texts.

They’re in this weird limbo situation. She’d confessed her affection about a year ago, New Year’s eve and festive spirits, influenced by champagne and encouraging friends, and she’d received an “I wondered about us too, but I’m honestly in a weird place, unsure. I really enjoy your company, though, I think you’re really cool and I am very happy with how we are now. Friends.” No dice. She took it in stride. She’s fine with it. No really, she is. Over it.

Then Madison hooked up with him. That one hurt.

They’d talked about it- with Madison that is- because they’re friends, Madison had also been jealous -before Y/n’s confession, when Sam seemed sorta into her and things were going well- and had urged her to go for it. Y/n had shared the sentiment (“If you two end up doing anything, I’m fine with it, it’s really none of my business. You’ve been his friend for longer than I have.”) and she had really meant it. But then Sam didn’t want her, and he ran off in the sunset with Madison for a grand total of three months, and rotten feelings were there in every other step Y/n took.

Now though, she’s fine. Sam has a different pace than her, she knows it now, has come to terms with it. He’s such a gentle, loving creature, so caring and passionate and smart and kind, with those wonderful eyes and his soft hair and the scent that makes her weak in the knees. She’ll have him in her life if that means a single four hour phone call every six months and loose texts here and there- sent by her of course, because he rarely ever texts first for some infuriating reason, and she panics he’s gonna forget her. Other than that, she’s come to terms with the fact that they’ll always be distant friends, that she’ll admire him from afar and he’ll maybe think about her once a month.

He always seems so happy to see her, though. He’s so fucking difficult to decipher.

“He’s on his way.” Brought back to the present by Madison’s statement, Y/n sulks back in her seat, a small, excited smile crossing her features. She’s happy to see him. She missed him.

He’s making his way through the other side of town, though. He’ll be here in two hours just to see them, and her heart flutters.

Till then, Madison lays in her sleeping bag turns out the lights, Y/n’s cat stretches sleepily, and Y/n doesn’t fall asleep, anxious she won’t hear him ring her bell, won’t hear her phone or Madison’s at his call. She’s only slightly desperate.

Time has slipped to six in the morning. Y/n’s eyes are wide open, her head woozy from the fatigue and the alcohol, but, when the rug vibrates with the ring of Madison’s phone, she jumps. She jumps, and so does her heart, skips a beat, because he’s here and she hasn’t seen him since the summer and she just wants to hug him hello.

“Pst! Madison.” With a slap of her hand over her phone, Madison, in a lump on the floor, pulls the phone and balances it on the cut of her cheekbone, speaker over her ear, while her hand slumps back under the sleeping bag. Nelly- Y/n’s cat- blinks lazily, spooked by the sound of the phone call, but ultimately, not giving it much attention.

“Hm? Yeah. Mkay,” sleepy, mumbled words muttered into the phone. At least someone caught some shut-eye between them. “Bring some beers.” A small chuckle, a shake of her shoulders. “Oh yah.” Another laugh. “Hmph, buzzkill.”

Y/n is turning on a small light, just until the sun rises properly up the sky, because everything is currently a little dark still.

“Atta boy. We’re waiting for you.” Another short laugh. Madison hangs up  turns on her back, and her phone falls off her face as she stretches, smiles, arms slumping over her chest. She doesn’t offer much information about the phone call. Not ten minutes later, the doorbell rings.

Y/n stumbles, sheets tangling on her legs, nearly tripping, to buzz him in.

He walks up the stairs, and she sees his head rise over the edge of the top step, a crooked smile on his pretty lips and she smiles back brightly. Arms raised over his head, he shows a plastic bag, clinking glass inside, and he whoops slightly. Y/n grins, throwing a victorious fist in the air.

“The feast continues!” And Sam laughs, toothy and bright as the sun. Y/n attacks him with a hug.

Warm arms stretch around her, hold her close, warm and tight, and he still smells heavenly, like he showered before he left his house. He smells like freshly cleaned clothes and vanilla scented body wash, like the seat of his car, deodorant and a deep, musky smell she can’t quite place.

My God, she’s missed him.

Madison is still on the floor of Y/n’s bedroom, mumbling her hello and burrowing a little in her sheets. Sam kneels down and hugs her, and she hugs back. “Nice to see you, dick”

“Runt,” he replies with a nod, as if he tips off his hat to her. Carefully, Sam also kneels next to Nelly, scritches under her little chin and whispers his soft greeting, to which the cat responds with a low purr and the bending of her head to give him a little more room. Sam smiles, and Y/n can feel her eyes being shaped into comically large hearts.

“M’God,” Madison groans. “I wanna stay awake but ugh.” Y/n smiles gently.

“Go back to bed. I have an appointment with my therapist in four hours though.” Madison nods numbly.

“Wake me up in three and a half, I’ll leave.” Y/n and Sam share a look and the former shrugs.

“Okay.”

Madison shifts, puts her headphones on and shuts her heavy eyelids, pretty much instantly falling asleep. Y/n is running on battery saver mode, enhanced by the incredible amount of adrenaline Sam’s presence seems to bring.

She nods for him to follow her and grabs her laptop, dumping herself on her living room couch, Sam closing the bedroom door behind himself and following her lead. He deposits most of the beers in the fridge and keeps two, which he opens. Y/n watches his ease in her kitchen, even though he’s never been here before and her heart wiggles in content.

He sits next to her on the couch, keeping a barely there distance between them, as she pushes the screen open. Despite all the feelings that have manifested in her chest over the relatively short time she’s known him, Sam and her really hit it off since day one. She met him during a surprise party thrown for Madison. Sam brought the cake, Y/n the candles and the lighter, and other friends brought alcohol, plastic plates that were never opened and cutlery.

The whole group had waited under Madison’s building, singing a very cheerful happy birthday, loudly enough for their voices to grow hoarse, and for Madison’s eyes to roll back into her skull with a sheepish smile. They had walked to a park, sat down and feasted on the cake straight from the pastry box, yet Sam was talking with Y/n on the swings a little ways to the right, away from the cheerful company, talking about fond childhood memories, about his brother, about their favourite movies. Y/n felt it, felt her heart drooping low, the familiar feeling of wanting to impress someone, to be liked by them. Even then, under whatever stars could be seen in their city, she knew he was gonna be trouble.

Beer bottle passed, and she clinks hers on his cheekily, receiving a tip of his head and a half-smile in response. Decided sips. Bottles held against bent knees as they both fold them like pretzels. Small talk about college, about recent misadventures and drunken phone calls, and soon she gets the urge to fill their time with something.

“Movie?” she asks, and Sam just seems on board.

“What do you have?”

And he ducks close to her and checks out the titles. “Do you wanna watch Hamilton? I’ve heard it’s really good.”

“YES, Sam,” enthusiastic and loud. Sam grins. They settle back on the couch.

Fifteen minutes into the play, Y/n doesn’t even hesitate, doesn’t ask and doesn’t preface by saying anything. With all the naturalism that their relationship has, all the affection she knows Sam has to give, she scooches closer to him and leans her head on his shoulder, hugs his arm to her chest, and he leans into her comfortably. “This okay?” The answer she looks for comes in the form of him leaning his head down on top of hers gently.

They watch two thirds of the play before they both get increasingly tired, since it’s a three hour performance. Their brains are kinda mushed, especially because of the lack of sleep, but they happily gush about how well made it is and Sam spews facts left and right about the price of the tickets, the actors and how the British royal family has gone to see it in-person.

“God, I wish I had the money to go up to NYC and watch it myself. I’ve never been to Broadway.” She sighs under his arm, which is now placed around her shoulders. Sam nods in agreement.

“Yeah, that must be so amazing to see in person.”

Bedroom door creaking open, Sam and Y/n separate from each other slowly as they watch Madison trudge to the living room like a phantom, a hand on her lower back.

“My God, Y/n, your floor is not hospitable at all.”

“Awh, I’m sorry.” Sam laughs next to her. “I don’t know why you didn’t move to the bed, though.” Madison glares, facepalms with a wince -the movement seems to rattle the spot that’s sore somehow- and shakes her head. “I didn’t- it- it didn’t cross my mind.”

Deep chuckles in amusement all around. Madison picks her stuff up. Y/n makes all of them some coffee, which they all quietly sip in the diminishing silence of the city waking up just outside their window.

The time for Y/n’s appointment approaches rapidly, and Madison waves goodbye, kisses both people on their cheeks and drives herself home. Y/n isn’t sure if Sam will stick around, so she checks the time awkwardly. She’d feel terrible to let him make his way back to other side of town just for these wimpy three hours wasted on tiredly catching up and watching a movie.

“Listen,” she says, and Sam’s attention is drawn from his coffee cup. “I’m gonna go to my bedroom, have my appointment, because we do it over Zoom anyway. You hang around, chill, and I’ll be back in an hour.”

“Alright,” Sam agrees gently. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

*

A painful, soul-straining hour later, wiping dry tear stains off her cheeks, Y/n makes her way to the living room, half forgetting Sam is even there. And boy if he’s there.

He’s stretched on her couch, legs barely fitting as he leans on the arm rest, ankles crossed, and a book he’s picked up from her bookshelf in his hands, while Nelly sleeps peacefully in his lap, finding comfort in his warmth. He hasn’t made an intense amount of progress, probably 50 or 60 pages in, but he seems invested, and for the seconds it takes him to notice her, Y/n admires him a little. Under the morning light through her thin, sheer curtains, rays are angled perfectly to make his cheekbones all the sharper, he, comfortable enough to relax in her worn-in couch. He looks so at home, and after such an emotionally draining hour, it’s so good to see someone who’s gentle, someone so familiar, waiting for her in her personal space, with her cat, as if he belongs there. It makes her heart do all sorts of stunts.

It seems he notices her from the corner of his eye though, and he puts the book down.

“Hey,” he tells her softly. “Are you good?”

“Uh,” she thinks for a second, pinches the bridge of her nose. “Yeah. I’m okay.” An offered smile, small and soft.

“Alright,” as if saying I’m choosing to believe you. “Have you read this yet?” He holds up a bright orange book, a small thing titled the Alchemist by Paolo Coelho. An offered change of subject. She smiles.

“Yeah, I have.” He folds his legs with a soft apology to Nelly who jumps off disgruntled, and Y/n takes it as a sign to sit on the couch next to him. His feet rest against her thighs, knees bent still.

“It’s so…” He sighs, struggles to find the words. “I mean, it’s not something I’d usually go for. It kind of feels childish and simple, but it’s so beautiful.” He seems slightly confused, surprised to find something he thought may be silly to be actually really good.

“I know right? It feels really simplistic, but some of the stuff it says is so eye-opening.”

“Listen to this,” he says and sits a little straighter, fixing the pillow on his back a little. “We are travelers on a cosmic journey, stardust, swirling and dancing in the eddies and whirlpools of infinity. Life is eternal. We have stopped for a moment to encounter each other, to meet, to love, to share. This is a precious moment. It is a little parenthesis in eternity.”

It’s like he chose the quote specifically for her, for this particular moment. A look is thrown his way, and he smiles crookedly. “I, uhm…” he rubs the back of his neck. “I just heard you crying, is all.” A nervous shrug. Y/n feels exhausted, drained, but in that little smile, that warmth, she feels like tearing up all over again at how fucking sweet he is. She pushes at his legs and reaches out to him for a hug, which he welcomes. She sighs.

“Thank you, Sam.”

                                                          ****

Eventually, they get up. They move to the kitchen and make grilled cheese sandwiches and tea, and Sam leans against her counter as he watches her take out plates from her cupboards, Nelly prancing around with distant meows for attention. Y/n picks large mugs, puts honey in hers and serves their half breakfast on the kitchen island. They eat under light conversation about dogs in social media and pets, and Sam sorta looks like he’s always been there, like this is the life they’ve always lived.

Hot mugs cupped in thick sleeve-covered hands. Bodies curling up on different ends of a couch. Comfortable conversation continues. Topic shifted to something more serious, and Sam tells her things, talks about how he’s grown mentally, how he understands himself a little better and how he wants to try therapy. She’s happy to see him like this, being -if only slightly- more open about himself, about how he is, not closing himself up, not fooling himself into believing he can shoulder the world alone. Y/n gives him her therapist’s phone number, tells him she’s proud of him and shares her own stories. She ruffles his hair and smiles affectionately, and Sam thanks her. Their mugs empty. Her heart grows fuller.

While moving back to the bedroom, Sam kneels next to Nelly. He offers her his hand, lets her sniff it, scritches the top of her soft little forehead, and Nelly pulls away, sniffing, wagging her tail in short annoyance. “Is that not okay? Alright, I’m sorry, honey,” he whispers to her gently, watches her lick his fingers for a second before settling back in her cat bed and watching him wearily. Sam gets the message and he pulls away, and Y/n’s never, ever seen anyone interact with her cat this way. Respectful and kind (and if that ain’t Sam, alright) and her heart lurches a bit. Of course Sam, practically the perfect guy, would test her cat’s boundaries as if she’s a human, and then never push them again. She sighs.

They end up on her bed. Sat next to each other. Laptop in front of her, heavy conversation discarded, set down for now, and she searches for her favourite stand-up comedians to show him, because she knows his sense of humour and he’s gonna love them, she’s sure. Yet, as she’s scrolling, Sam does the unspeakable, and slides behind her, one leg either side of her, arms going around her.

“ ‘M sorry, I needed a hug,” he tells her, and she curls her own arms over his, leaning back against him.

“Anytime,” she promises and means every syllable. “You can stay like that if you want,” she tells him as well, and feels his chin on her shoulder as he nods, a huffed out breath softly knocking on the bare skin of her neck. She sighs into him. Gets comfortable, pulls the laptop on her lap -can you see well?- and lets herself be entertained, relishing Sam’s laughter against her back. She smiles, because  this finally feels good. She doesn’t yearn, doesn’t look for anything more. She’s ultimately incredibly happy with where they are, with all of this warm affection. There’s no butterflies, just comfort, just love and care and tired laughter that fills her mouth with honey. The sun is in her eyes.

Not ten minutes later he shifts, stretches his legs and pulls her more comfortably against him. With gentle fingers, he pushes two strands of hair behind her ear, to the side, touch so soft she barely feels it, repositions his chin on her shoulder and breathes out calmly and Y/n shivers. He holds her securely and she, well, she dares dream, dares feel what this would be like in a different context, and while there’s a little yearning this time, to remember what it’s like to want someone and to be wanted, to know what it’s like to be Sam’s, what it’s like to be held with utter security, knowledge that you’ll never be let go of, it’s not overpowering. She feels its presence, but it feels more like an old friend than a menace. She’s content. Finally. The opposing feelings seem to tame each other.

Something close to an hour passes. They make food, some creamy pasta just to hold them over until dinner. He stirs the pot while she shows him a funny video on her phone. They eat in comfortable silence, and Y/n feels the urge to tangle her legs with his under the table, but she doesn’t, terrified she’ll push him away, ruin this bubble of comfort and naturalism by taking things a step too far. What is too far, she wonders. She’ll let him take the lead, if that means he’ll continue being this physically close to her.

Sam washes the dishes. Y/n pecks his cheek in thanks. His smile is radiant.

They stretch next to each other on her bed, scroll through their texts, send silly pictures to mutual friends. The mistake she makes is when she grabs his phone and takes a really, and she means really, ugly picture. A zillion chins, pinched eyebrows, curved lips and tongue out, hands his phone back and contemplates the consequences.

“Gimme that back, you shouldn’t have that,” decided and regretful. Sam and his noodle, twelve feet long limbs hold the phone as far from her as possible and Y/n growls and laughs, stretches, tries to grab it off him. “Sam!”

“You really think I’m gonna pass this up?” he scoffs with a grin, and she yells his name, accusatory and playful.

“Give it BACK, my face is in there! Privacy infringement!” She yells. “You should know, you’re a lawyer!”

“But you willingly saved the picture in a phone that’s not yours!” Arms stretched high, laughter booming and loud, and she scrambles.

“Your word against mine!”

“You can be seen holding the phone yourself!” She growls again, tries to pull his arm down, tickles his side and he jerks and laughs. Y/n tries to throw a leg over his to hold him down, but Sam’s too quick, too strong. They fumble, thrash, tangled limbs, throat aching full of laughter, struggling and yelling useless threats.

Sam throws the phone on the rug and huffs, visibly almost done with her, like she’s an annoying but entertaining bug. He grips her hands, her left and right in his respectively, throws his leg over her waist, twists and straddles her, hands now over her head.

Heavy breaths. They pant, stare at each other, Sam shakes his head like a dog to get his hair out of his face.

“You can’t win,” he tells her with a confident smile. She narrows her eyes.

“Have you learned nothing from this friendship?” She blows a hair away from her face and looks at him smiling. “I don’t give up that easy,” coy smile, a promise, wink sent his way, and suddenly she’s thrusting up her pelvis, trying desperately to scooch up the bed with the rest of her body, but the grip on her wrists tightens, Sam barely budging. She struggles, drags her body up, fueled by pure determination and spite, wiggles fiercely and just barely manages to get on her belly, which seems like a mistake in hindsight.

Because now her hands are crossed, he’s basically got her on a choke hold with her own forearms, and she’s eagerly trying to get her knees under her, while Sam laughs loudly at grumbled comments like “What the fuck kinda core strength do you have, fucking behemoth.” The sheets get wrinkled and pulled off the edges of her mattress, her pillows get pushed to the side, to the floor, the struggle continues and her stomach and throat hurt from all the laughter, but she really can’t seem to get the upper hand, which would be obvious if someone so much as threw a look at both of them. Sam’s six feet and two full of young, sinewy muscle, a boy- a man, really- with biceps that may not be particularly thick, but the iron grip on her wrists says something else. His hands are the size of her face. Strength is not the way she should be going about this.

She twists again, barely able to get back on her back, and she pants. The asshole looks barely winded and her eyes narrow, him raising an eyebrow challengingly. What to do, what to do?

Y/n relaxes, but Sam doesn’t. She takes a breath, grins briefly up at his momentarily confused face, then yanks her hands up the bed, making him jerk down so he can keep her under his grip and-

And she kisses him.

Nothing long or particularly sexy, just a rough push of her mouth on his, and an ‘umph’ escapes him in surprise.

Sam startles, his grip loosens, and her hands are pulled free of his hold, kicking away from him and managing a small distance apart from his warm body, knees pulled up to her chest and panting fast and loud.

Okay, it seemed smart in that moment. It really did. But for a grand total of five eternally long seconds later, her heart shrinks, diminishes to ash and dust and regret. Sam’s kaleidoscopic eyes are wide, pupils blown, and he, too, is panting.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, is all she can think, so much for not pushing his boundaries, not rushing his pace. How will you ever look in his eyes again?

“Too much?” And he blinks at her, clearly still processing. “I’m sorry, Sam, I- I didn’t mean-”

But then a hand cups her jaw, warm and big and gentle, pulls her face close to his, and his lips are there, pressed on hers. Y/n’s motionless for just a second- she’s dreamt of this for so long, over a year and a half, and it’s happening in the cheesiest way possible- and Sam is on his knees, weight rested on his other hand, reaching for her, he’s kissing her, and move, dammit, do something! A hand grips his wrist, and she pushes herself closer to him, a huff pushed out of Sam’s nose, and her stomach flips in so many stunning, wonderful ways.

Her legs fall to the side, she meets him half-way and kisses him and Sam follows just as fiercely, falls back on his haunches. His hands push under her shoulders, lift her up onto his lap, grab the back of her knees and pull them around his hips and Y/n goes willingly. She holds the sides of his face carefully and parts her lips, and Sam licks into them with caution, curls his strong arms around her waist and sighs into her mouth.

Y/n pulls away. So much for boundaries.

She blinks down at him. Sam’s eyes stay closed for a second longer, peering up at her then. He waits for her to say something. Fingers push his hair back gently, she nudges her nose with his and smiles.

“I win.” Earning a long, dramatic eye roll.

“I had you in a choke hold with your own arms, Y/n.” and her name rolls off his tongue so sweetly. She clicks her tongue.

“Yet here we are,” she whispers, looks down at him and he shakes his head with a sigh. His eyes fall  on her lips once more and he gently chews the inside of his cheek. One large paw cups the side of her head and he kisses her slowly once more before pulling away, thumbing at her cheek.

They smile.

                                                           ****

The sun has descended beneath the horizon, so early it’s kind of comical, but it doesn’t feel like it’s 6 pm anyway, because neither of them has slept at all. Time has lost meaning and form the past two days, everything feels surreal and fake because of the lack of sleep, and now here they are, under warm fairy lights, laying in her bed. There’s been kisses here and there, gently roaming hands, not moving further than that, and again, Y/n doesn’t need anything more. She’s content where she is, surprised she even made it this far. The affection they’ve shared is scarcely fierce and feral, simply quiet, tender, innate. Nothing particularly passionate or aggressive, just warmth and comfort, shielded vulnerability hidden behind brief liplocks. Y/n’s more than okay with it.

She’s laying on his chest, arm around his waist and ear over his heart and they doze together under dim lighting, limbs heavy, hearts feathery light. Sam’s arm falls around her back, pulls her close. She nuzzles his chest.

It’s just so easy to be with him. Around him.

Y/n wonders where they stand after this. If he’ll text her more. If it’ll go back to the occasional long phone call, the random outings because Madison texts him while she’s with Y/n. Will they ever be like this again? How much does she care?

Because, although somewhat pivotal for her view on affection, and tenderness and friendship, ambit stretched now, definitions altered in her mind, she feels that no real barrier has broken, shifted even. They’re still friends. They’re not partners, he’s not her boyfriend and it’s honestly fine. No, really, it is. She’s genuinely okay.

Would she like to see what it’s like to date him? Of course she would. Of course she wants to know what it feels like to know he wants her and only her, wants to know she can hold his hand, can kiss him no matter where they are or with whom, without crossing invisible boundaries tentatively like she did today. Planning dates and late night movie nights and early morning beers with shared drunken kisses.

She just wishes she knew what it’s like to have free access to this sort of affection with someone, and maybe that’s the thing. Sam feels like a good someone to have that with, but at the same time, maybe it’s what he told her on New Year’s and the way he likes to be, maybe it’s the understanding that they’re really not particularly meant to be together, cosmically in love, soulmates, whatever-the-hell, but there’s no dipping of the stomach, no heart rate accelerating, no feeling of being high or drunk. Maybe Y/n just wants someone, anyone to be with, to know she can fall for, and while Sam is warm and funny and familiar and oh so wonderful, while he looks like a great candidate to be in a relationship with, while her heart flips at the possibility of having any semblance of romance in her life, of him in her house, her couch, with her books and his warm hugs, maybe he’d been right. Maybe he knew something too painful to tell her back then, when she confessed her attraction, back when things were raw and bruised and painful to the touch. Sam and her, well… they seem good in theory. They are fun, and safe, they care for one another. They share alcohol bottles easily, common interests, kindness and heeps of love to give. They make sense in a way. But- it’s just not clicking, is it?

This is just… this. Affection for the sake of affection, not romance. And that’s okay to have, more than okay, even. It’s great. It’s comforting. It’s safe, and it’s simple. They can kiss. They can hug. They can cuddle together, and brush each other’s hair away from their faces. Y/n can admire his eyes while he cleans the dishes they ate lunch in. And it can all amount to nothing, without it feeling like band-aids being ripped off bleeding wounds without a warning.

In the words of her mother, why are human relationships so god damn complicated? Why does this one have to be too?

Y/n is content to be in his arms, to philosophically discuss, and open up and talk freely. She’s content with them giggling and wrestling and kissing in between, and they can share their music and their book quotes and their love for one another. It’s just surface level affection. If not surface level, then friendship level. Why is that not enough? Maybe not all relationships have to be tipped in the romantic pink light, and maybe, just maybe that’s okay.

She gazes up at him, rests her chin on his chest, and Sam blinks his lazy, drowsy eyelids open to look down at her sweetly, offers a small and a caress of his hand on her back. And for once, Y/n is completely satisfied with just this, and nothing more.

*****

A/N 2: I reread this and it felt like I reached a conclusion to something gigantic and cosmic, but this seems so simple.  I should know all this by now. *huff*

please tell me what you thought of this!

Forevers:

@deanxfuckingadorablexwinchester​ @deanssweetheart23​ @nostalgic-uncertainty​ @mogaruke​ @superseejay721517​ @lady-hawkguy​ @thosefeelsarereal​ @superwholockmarauder​  @justiceiswater​ @petra-arkanian-1497​ @heyitscam99​ @danijimenezv​ @aj-reuth  @unicornblood4ever @mystriee​ @sadist-fangirl23 @asguardiansoftheavengers​ @superrandomnatural​ @altosaxplayer098 @winter-moons @hunterswearingplaid​ @novaddictx​ @choosemyname​  @live-like-a-girl​ @thisismysecrethappyplace​ @bowtomytenderaddiction​  @elara98azalea​ @lemondropirwin​ @emmagolden4118​ @glitchcypher @calaofnoldor​ @paradoxical-sleep​ @narynechan @canwenotdothis​ @suicidepanda07​ @blueaura​

Sam Stuff:

@kymberlytorres​ @theboykingsamwinchester​ @depressed-moose-78 @andi-mendes-barnes​ @captainmarvelcorps​ @nerd-in-a-galaxy-far-away​ @nellachain​  @percywinchester27​

[mediocre--writing]

Sad hc but Billy teaching Will about what’s going on with AIDS and giving him a really strict talk about it and being careful/cautious about who he gets involved with

Also, Billy helping Will learn to sort of “hide” his queerness in Indiana to keep him safe

oooooh i like this one

so i’ve seen another story or blurb about this (it was either on here or ao3 but i don’t remember who wrote it) but i really liked it and am making my own twist on it

steve and billy have been dating for a few months, now. the kids haven’t given them more than the wave of a hand at the specifics of their relationship, other than the ‘shovel talk’ the boys gave to billy, and the one max gave to steve

other than will. not in a critical way, no, just pure curiosity and wonderment about how they’ve managed to find one another and remain happy together

it’s not until a few weeks after wills initial wondering that things start to piece together, the stupid names his dad would call him, his dependency on mike, the way he never felt to strongly towards girls

will is gay.

how could he not have realized, all the clues were right there! maybe he was ignoring that part of him from the awful things that have been ingrained into his mind at an early age

but if steve and billy are met with love and kindness from their friends, then will should be too, right?

but with acceptance came one crucial point: telling people. will was not ready for everyone to know

so he went to an expert

steve had been brushing his teeth, getting ready for bed when he heard the doorbell ring. rushing downstairs, toothbrush still in his mouth, he quickly unlocked the door and opened it to reveal... a sweaty will byers

“uhh... kid it’s late and i—“

“i’m gay.” will cut steve off

steve’s jaw dropped and, as a result, his toothbrush went clattering to the ground

“that’s great! i mean, it’s not great— wait it’s good that you are— shit i’m no good at this? i’m sorry. billy is much better at dealing with these kind of situations,”

and steve left will standing in the open doorway as he ran upstairs, after bending down to pick up his toothbrush

will, shocked to his core, just stood, waiting in the open door

but how was he to know that the most surprising thing to happen that night was billy, groggily and probably just asleep, coming down the stairs quietly scolding steve (who was pattering next to him)

billy took one look at will, still bundled in coats standing outside the door, and gave a look to steve

“go make hot chocolate, we’re gonna be here a while,”

steve walked off to the kitchen and billy invited wills in, closing and locking the door and sitting down on the couch with will

“so... you’re gay?”

“uhhh... yeah”

“alright so what’s the story?”

“i’m sorry?”

“what made you realize you were gay, or who?”

will felt the blush creep up his neck and felt like dying in that moment. seeing the boy floundering, billy began speaking,

“when i was in california, there was this boy when i was 13, his name was jackson, and he was one of the coolest people i’d ever known. he skated, much better than max does, and he had this long, black hair and wore these cool, painted jean jackets, even when it was super hot outside

“he had really dark brown eyes and wore this cool, feather earring. he had the prettiest smile and we had been friends for years before that, but one day, we were sitting on the beach, and the sun looked so pretty shining down on his face, and i realized i liked him, a lot,”

will didn’t think that billy realized he was smiling as he reminisced. he doesn’t think billy knows that steve is peaking out of the kitchen listening either

“did you date?” will asked innocently, seeing the way the light in billy’s eyes started to dim at the question

“not, not really. my dad, he wasn’t a fan of our kind, if you know what i mean. we kind-of started dating at 14, snuck around for two years. we would go on dates, but would usually go in a group of friends so it wasn’t too obvious. we would kiss, sometimes, but we never were really ‘together’

“it’s the reason we moved here, ya know?” wills interest was peaked, “my dad caught us kissing and that, of course, wasn’t ok, so he moved us out to the most conservative place he could find, far away from california, and i haven’t talked to jackson since. but i found something better, i was lucky and i—for whatever reason—got steve,”

will figured that steve disappearing back into the kitchen was a result of the tears that were coming out of his eyes.

“so what’s your story, kid?”

“i think, i might like mike. but i didn’t realize i was even... gay until you and steve came out and were happy how you were,”

“ok, so why didn’t you tell your mom, or jon?”

“you guys understand. they would support me so much, but they just wouldn’t get how hard it is to feel, to feel this way! because, i don’t know everyone says we’re going to hell or are awful and i don’t wanna be hated because i like guys!”

wills eyes were all teary after his confession, and billy gave him a comforting side hug (will realized max wasn’t lying when she said that billy gave the best hugs) and steve came out with three hot chocolates

billy was still shushing him in his ear, whispering ‘i get it, i understand, you are still you, doesn’t matter who you like,’ and will swears he has never felt more comforted by anyone other than his mother before

will stopped crying a few minutes after, taking a cup of hot cocoa and sipping on it in peaceful silence

steve was more than half asleep on the opposite end of the couch, but billy was wide awake next to will, despite how tired he was earlier

“how much do you know... about, gay things?” billy cringed at the way he phrased it, but assumed joyce and jon weren’t exactly the best people to explain the situation to will

“what’d you mean?”

“like... aids?” billy set his mug down and leaned foreword, resting his hands on his knees, “you know anything about that?”

“i... have seen some things. not a lot, but i know of it,”

“well, i want you to be safe. this isn’t some thing you should be joking about at school or anything. it’s serious, like really fucking serious. i knew a guy, he owned a diner in cali, and he got it from... a partner... and he died. you understand that this is serious?”

will nodded his head quickly, billy continued

“you don’t sleep with just anyone, ok? you don’t seem like a person who would, but just be careful, always use condoms, always be careful. don’t do drugs, at all, because i’m not dealing with you if you become a heroin addict, ok?”

will nodded, but there was something in billy’s voice that told him that id he did get addicted to heroin, billy would try his hardest to take care of him.

“if you sleep with someone and you just want to be sure, get tested. its better safe than sorry, alright?”

“alright,” will nodded again. “what about you and steve?”

“we both got tested and we aren’t sleeping around with other people, we’ll be fine, kid,”

“ok, good,”

“no need to worry about us, ok?”

“i worry about all of my friends,”

“kid, i really want you to be safe, alright? and you know you shouldn’t really blab about this to the town, me and steve haven’t even told our parents, your little group are the only ones who know,”

“they already call me a f—“

“i don’t give a shit and don’t you dare call yourself that! you’re better than whatever shit they wanna call you. you’ve got a great future and you’re not gonna get it if some hick in this town kills you because you like dick, alright?

“i want you safe, and if anyone gives you trouble or you have questions, you can come to me or steve, any time, any day.”

billy’s eyes were intense and will felt small under them, but also felt safe and loved as an entire person, as who he truly is and who he wants to be.

steve was still snoring lightly at the end of the couch, making billy chuckle a little

“well, if it’s past 10:30, steve’s not gonna be awake, he’s an old man on the inside,”

will laughed at the comment and steve choked on a snore as he woke himself up, wild eyes looking around, catching a bashful will, who was still laughing

“wha—“

“go back to sleep, princess,” billy chuckled and steve nodded, laying his head back on the pillow and closing his eyes

“can i sleep over? my mom thinks i’m at mikes, and probably wouldn’t like me biking this late,”

“course kid, this house has like six extra bedrooms, we’re lucky steve’s all rich ‘n shit,” billy wiggled his eyebrows and led will to a guest bedroom and made sure he was settled in before going to pick up steve and carry him to bed

will figured he’d still have to tell his mom and friends, but he felt safe here with billy and steve, so he guessed things wouldn’t be so bad.

[hellisheuphoria]

Chapter 2: Silence

The MC has a rough day, and finds comfort in a certain individual.

[Nothing much to say here, except thank you for reading, and don’t hesitate writing any constructive criticism to me or pointing out mistakes, ily all <3]

Morning arrives, and your eyes still barely open from the exhaustion of last night. You wished you had never woken up, far too tired for the day ahead.

You can tell it is early in the morning- just before 6 am. There is no sun in the Devildom, and so you have had to adjust your internal clock to the eternal darkness of this world.

No light creeps into your room to remind you that there is a new start to another day. That the past belongs in the past- yet your mind just can not correspond with that. It feels like everyday is the same.

It is eternal and infinite, yet you are mortal and weak. Despite possessing pacts with the most strongest rulers of the Devildom, you wield no strength. You possess no magical power. You’re useless.

If a demon wished to devour you right this very second, you would be gone. There is no power within you to perform any spells, and so you are defenceless.

Already in a depressive state, you will your weary bones to move. In order to avoid your housemates, you would need an extremely early start to the day. Meaning, now.

You freshen up in the bathroom, noticing your horrible features on your face. Your skin is pale and hollow, dark circles have comfortably edged themselves under your eyes, your eyes are hollow and lifeless and your hair thin and dead. You look like a zombie.

Your RAD uniform is crumpled and messy from having thrown it on the floor the day before, not giving a single care for it in the world.

You quietly walk to the kitchen, with your school necessities and belongings in your bag that has been slumped over your shoulder. You grab a small carton of yoghurt to eat and walked to the door, making sure to be quiet so as to not wake any of them up or alert them.

There are barely any students by the time you get to school, but they are almost always the nicer demons, the over achievers of the school. As they say, the early bird catches the worm.

You walked to the courtyard, where many beautiful plants and wildflowers resided, making it a truly wonderful and bright place in RAD. You sat down on one of the benches and took out your yoghurt, peeling the plastic off.

Someone tapped your shoulder from next to you. The white hair gave it away immediately; Solomon.

”Hello, MC. You’re quite early, today.” He greeted you with a lovely smile, but you could tell something was going on if you looked deeper into his eyes. He held onto a secret of some sorts.

”Hey.” You responded, nervous and flustered at the same time. You two didn’t talk often, despite being the only two human exchange students in the Devildom. He was very handsome and you would find yourself staring at him during class, enraptured.

He was also a very powerful sorcerer, having made pacts with more than 72 demons- Asmodeus included.

But he was nice, and hadn’t hurt you at all. Well, yet. You hoped he wouldn’t, you actually liked him.

”You look tired today. Had a rough night?” He observed you closely, his eyes still looking around your face as you slowly went red.

”I-uh, you could say that. I woke up sort of early and couldn’t sleep.” It wasn’t a total lie, but it wasn’t the entire truth either.

”Huh, alright.” He was still smiling at you, his lips perfectly complimenting his beautifully sinister face.

Your cheeks reddened and you turned away, choking the rest of the yoghurt down. You were feeling way too nervous for your liking- you felt as though you were supposed to act a certain way around him.

You breathed in slowly. “Uh, I need to get to class now.” You adjusted your bag on your shoulders and stood up to walk away, when he called out behind you.

”Have a nice day, MC.” You didn’t look back, but responded. “You too.”

For the rest of the day, you spent your time avoiding everyone, especially Mammon. You knew he would be extremely pissed at you, but you didn’t care. Today was not a good day.

As cute and clingy as he was, you just needed to get away from everyone- you really did. You could understand why Lucifer was frustrated at them half the time- they can be quite a handful.

As the day ended, you were in your last class, the Devildom history. You only had Satan, Asmo and Solomon with you in this class. They sat away from you, but you could hear Asmo’s whispering from miles away. He was being seriously loud.

“You know what happened today? I tried talking to MC, and they literally ghosted me! I think there’s something up!”

Satan agreed with him, “You’re right. Mammon wouldn’t stop complaining today about how he couldn’t find MC.”

Solomon didn’t talk, but you could feel his stare from your spot in the class. You could almost hear his thoughts from how hard he was staring at you.

When the class ended, you packed up as fast as you could and almost ran from how fast you were, you didn’t want to talk to anyone at all.

You could hear Asmo and Satan yelling behind you, but you ignored them and ran away. You didn’t want to answer any of their questions, you don’t want to talk to them.

Your outburst yesterday with Belphegor made you wary of everyone else. You were worried if he had told them what happened, and then they would want to talk to you about it.

You didn’t want to talk about your feelings, you would break if you did. It scared you witless, it terrified you. You didn’t wanna ruin their relationship with Belphegor or you. You didn’t want to be selfish and hurt them with your stupid fear.

The minute you ran into the house, you could tell it was empty. There were no shoes lying around, and nobody was arguing. Perfect, you were by yourself, and there would be no one to bother you.

You kicked off your shoes and got to your room. You locked your door, put away your bag and slithered onto your bed, not having taken off your uniform. God, you were tired.

You wrapped the blankets around you and eased into the mattress. This way, you would feel better. You wouldn’t feel as bad as you usually did, you would feel great when asleep, you were able to finally escape from your wretched world. The world soon became indecipherable, indifferent.

You zoned out and fell asleep.

You woke up to the sound of chattering, laughter and arguing close by. The light creeped in from under your door and ended right at your face. Your room was extremely dark, a change from when you first got home.

You were still groggy and tired, but if you slept any longer then you wouldn’t be able to sleep for the rest of the night.

You were feeling pretty lonely, but to be honest? It may just be better this way. You wouldn’t feel hurt when the program ended and you had to go home, and you wouldn’t ruin a relationship that could last for thousand of more years.

You didn’t leave your room, but you kept your door locked and turned on the light. You decided you would pass the time playing Mononoke Land, a game that Levi introduced to you a while back.

It was quite interesting, and the time passed by quickly, but only by an hour. It was about 6 pm, so you still had a lot of time before you would need to sleep.

You felt jealous of everyone sitting in the living room, enjoying their evening. Asmo was probably painting his nails, Satan could be trying to read a book despite Mammon’s blabbering.

You snickered a bit at the thought of Mammon being yelled at by Satan while Beel ate in the background, and Belphegor-

Oh. Belphegor would be napping, like always. You were jealous of that, as scared you were of him. You wanted the ability to sleep at any time you wanted to, despite the setting or time. It would be really convenient for right about now.

You could feel yourself getting sadder by the moment, but you didn’t know how to deal with it. You were lonely and scared, but you didn’t know where to turn to.

A ping from your DDD shook you from your thoughts.

Solomon- Hello, MC, do you have a minute?

MC- Uh, yeah. Why?

Solomon- You left something behind at school and I forgot about it until now. I have your notebook with me, you forgot it at history.

MC - OH, shoot. Should I wait for you tomorrow or come now? It’s only 6 pm.

Solomon - The Devildom can be quite deceiving when it comes to the seasons, but it’s winter right now, and it’s dark. Don’t worry, I’ll be at the house of Lamentation soon. I wouldn’t want you to have your soul eaten.

You felt your cheeks turn red, he didn’t want you to get hurt.

MC - Thank you, Solomon, I’ll be waiting. Text me first, don’t ring the doorbell.

Solomon - Got it.

You shut off your phone and stared up at the ceiling for a few seconds, wondering about Solomon. Maybe he wasn’t such a bad guy after all, not that you thought he was. After all, he cared for you enough to not risk you getting hurt. How sweet of him.

You messed around on your phone for a bit while waiting for Solomon. You hanged around in your room idly, doing nothing in particular. You then got a notification from your phone. As it turned out, that new feature where you can look at other group chats that you’re not in got activated again.

In the group chat, there was a picture of Mammon on the front page news of Majolish, a fashion magazine. He was modelling again.

Asmo rambled on about him, surprised that his ‘scummy’ older brother got into the first page of Majolish. Honestly, snooping on them was kind of fun. You’ve probably got more than dozens of blackmail from this feature.

Solomon- MC, I’m here.

MC - I’ll be out soon.

You wrapped yourself in a jacket, still in your uniform. You would have to wash that soon, you probably sweat a lot in it.

You tried your best to avoid everyone, making yourself as quiet as a mouse, you hoped. The floors creaked slightly, but they were all probably too preoccupied to notice.

You got to the front door and silently opened it, seeing Solomon outside. He was wearing his casual clothes, but still had that same look on his face. Handsome, too.

”Hello, MC.” He took your notebook out of his pocket and held it in front of you, with his arm stretched. You reached out to grab it, but he snatched it away and looked at you smugly.

”Let’s have a little chat, first. You owe me, don’t you?”

You dumbly stood there, gaping at him. Of course- this was Solomon we were falling about. He’s as sketchy as it could get.

”Oh- fine!” You said, trying your best not to sound pissed.

You put on your school shoes and walked out the door, making sure to close it quietly. Solomon walked with you, not saying a word but you could guess your notebook was still in his pocket.

You sighed, “Look, Solomon, if you’re not going to give it back to me, then can I just go back home? I’m tired.”

He looked at you with a side glance. “I could tell. You’re still in your uniform.” Pausing for a second, he continued. “Why were you acting weird today? I wouldn’t have expected our dear MC to run off like that. So I assumed that something must be up.”

You looked at the ground, clenching your hands in your pockets and keeping your eyes off him. “What’s it to you?”

He stopped walking, and so did you. He chucked, “As a fellow human exchange student, I only want the best for you.” He took your notebook out of his pocket, placing it in your hands. “If you ever find yourself in need, I will be there, no matter the scenario.”

He pat your head, then walked off, calling behind him. “Good evening, MC.”

You stared at his back, confused. He has never been this close to you, why now? You glanced down at your notebook, where he seemed to have placed a little ripped note on it.

Tear-rible mistake on your behalf, leaving your notes behind.

-Solomon :)

It was a horrible pun, really, but that didn’t stop you from laughing out loud in the middle of the street, facepalming yourself. You turned and walked back to the House of Lamentation, trying to contain yourself.

Seeing the house in your view calmed you down a little, and you knew you had to be quiet to avoid Lucifer’s wrath. He could have probably heard you laughing from miles away if he tried hard enough.

You walked up the door and slowly opened it, wincing a little when your shoes scraped the carpet, leaving a little scuff mark. But he was an extreme perfectionist. He would notice that right away.

Panicking, you half ran to your room and locked it, sliding down the door in disbelief and relief. You really needed to find a better way to sneak out.

Your phone buzzed at the same time you thought it, almost as if in agreement.

[aliendes]

Clingy

From the BTS song lyric drabble game: #3 in the dynamite drabble game for jimin pls & ty!

3. Say what you want

Warnings: cursing, angst, with a sort of fluffy ending? unedited as always

Word count: 1.9k~

It was your day off from work today, Saturday, one of your favorite days of the week. You got to sleep in this morning, and when you woke up it was a beautiful day, sun shining, no rain in the forecast even though it had rained all week.

You lounged around in bed all morning, not really doing much except text your boyfriend Jimin and scroll through Twitter. It’s been a really great day so far, and you were in a really great mood. Once you finally decided to get out of bed, you took a shower and got changed into some workout clothes. You were feeling really good today and since it was finally warm out, you decided to go for a jog.

You didn’t go too far from your apartment, going around the block a few times, texting Jimin the entire time. You two talked about making plans for tomorrow night and texted back and forth about how you missed each other. It was nice. You were happy. Because you were in such a good mood you decided to jog over to Jimin’s company building which was only a few blocks away and surprise him. You typically visit at least once per week and everyone there knows you at this point, having been together for the last three years.

Walking into Big Hit you wave at the receptionist and the security guard, who both wave back to you with sweet smiles. You return them, of course, and make your way towards the elevators.

You knew from your earlier text conversations that Jimin and the rest of the boys were practicing choreography today, so you went to the floor with the practice rooms and walked through the hallways until you heard music. Stopping outside the door, you looked at yourself in the reflection of your phone, fixing a couple of stray hairs.

When you walked in, the first person you saw was Jungkook who was sitting on a couch against the far wall. When he saw you, you quickly put a finger up to your mouth to signal him to stay quiet. A bunny smile grew on his face as he nodded quickly. The music was fairly low, and you looked to your left and saw Hoseok and Namjoon trying to learn a couple of moves for a new choreography. Other than that, no one else was dancing. When you looked to your right, you saw Taehyung and Jimin standing in the other corner near a table that had all their drinks and coffees on it. You started to make your way towards your boyfriend, who had his back to you as he talked to his best friend.

When you approached, you started to hear the conversation that was taking place.

“I don’t know, Tae,” Jimin sighed, “she just seems so clingy lately. It’s starting to get on my nerves.”

Your heart and your smile dropped at his words. You haven’t even seen Jimin in over a week. What did he mean you were clingy. You stopped moving towards the pair when you met Taehyung’s wide eyed stare, like he had been caught red handed. You gave him a sad smile, letting him know it wasn’t his problem.

When Jimin noticed his friend’s stare, he followed his gaze, spinning around, until his eyes met your misty ones. You blinked a few times to try and fight back the tears that were threatening to fall, to no avail. You watched as Jimin’s expression changed from confused, to shocked, to embarrassed in a matter of three seconds. “YN-”

You didn’t want to hear it. You spun around and started running. You ran through the practice room door and straight to the stairwell, ignoring the shouts of Jimin and now who you thought was Jungkook.

Once you reached the bottom floor, you were panting hard, but you pushed through the pain and ran out the front doors of the building and down the block. The adrenaline and hurt you were feeling fueled your fire and you ran all the way home. Not that it was super far, but by the time you got there, your lungs burned as you collapsed on the floor of your kitchen. Your knees cracked against the tile floor as you fell, sobbing into the palms of your hands.

Why would he say such things? You couldn’t imagine a world in which he ever thought you were clingy. You felt crushed. How long has he felt that way, how long has he been talking about you behind your back? You had so many questions, but didn’t know if you really wanted answers to them.

A shrill ring of the doorbell brought you out of your reverie, making your head snap in the direction of the front door. After the bell stopped, you heard banging. Loud banging. “YN!”

Jimin.

“YN-” more loud bangs, “please! Please open the door, YN.”

You sobbed even harder at the sound of his voice. You shouldn’t feel sorry for him, for the pain in his voice, when you were the one breaking down on your kitchen floor.

“YN if you don’t open the door I’m coming in. I know the code,” came Jimin’s muffled voice again, followed by a few more bangs. You contemplated getting up, but thought better of it. He was going to come in anyways, might as well wallow in your self pity a little longer. You scooted backwards until your back was against your kitchen cabinets, knees pulled to your chest as you hugged yourself. A few seconds later you heard the beeping of your keypad and the locking mechanism open.

You didn’t look up when you heard quiet footsteps approaching. Nor did you look up when they stopped right in front of you.

“Fuck,” Jimin hissed as he looked at your sad form, bruised and bloody knees, hair a mess from running your hands through it, and tears on your arms from wiping so aggressively at your face. He knelt down in front of you, hands hovering over you. He wasn’t sure if he should touch you right now, so instead he used his words, “YN, baby. I’m so fucking sorry. Please, please look at me.” He sounded like he was crying now, but you didn’t want to look up at him. Didn’t want him to see you like this. “Please let me explain?” It was phrased like a question, even though you knew he was going to talk anyways, so you cut him off, snapping your head up to look at him. He held back a gasp at the sight of your tear and mascara stained face.

“Explain? You don’t need to explain. I heard you loud and clear, Jimin. But I know that won't stop you, so go on, say what you want. Tell me how clingy and awful I am.” Your tears had stopped now and all you felt was anger. How could he think he had the right to burst in here after what he said about you?

Jimin let out a sigh and closed his eyes, sinking down onto the floor and pressing his back against the cabinets opposite you. You could see the tears starting to run down his face as he tried to steady his breathing. “I know I fucked up. I really don’t have a good excuse for why I said those things, and I know you wont believe me when I say I didn’t mean them,” you scoff, making him open his eyes and look at you sadly, “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness or your understanding, YN. I never should have said you were clingy. I don’t know why I even said it - fuck, I’m so fucking stupid.” He rubbed his hand down the front of his face, wiping away the tears. “I’ve just been feeling so overwhelmed lately, and we were talking about making plans tomorrow -”

You cut him off before he could go any further, “Jimin we haven’t seen each other in a week. Even so, if you didn’t want to make plans, why didn’t you just say no instead of agreeing?

“I know, I know! I’ve just been feeling so exhausted with work and the new album and I can’t get these damn dances down. I’m so fucking tired, YN. I told you yes because I didn’t want to let you down, and then I let the fact that I was tired drive my words and my actions when I was talking with Tae. I don’t think you’re clingy. I don’t think that at all, I swear. Me being tired is no excuse for those words, and I am so, so fucking sorry.”

You could see and feel that he was telling the truth, but it didn’t mean it hurt any less. “You’re right, Jimin. Being tired isn’t an excuse.”

“I know,” he looked down as more silent tears rolled down his puffy cheeks, “I know that. I was looking for someone, or something, to blame my frustration on, and since we’ve been texting all morning, my brain went straight to you.”

It wasn’t a good explanation, but you understood where he was coming from. You’ve definitely lashed out on people because they were standing too close before, but again, it doesn’t mean it hurts any less. “While I believe you,” you started, making Jimin lift his head to look at you, a hopeful look in his eyes, “it doesn’t change the fact that what you said was extremely hurtful, Jimin.” A few tears streamed down your face as you spoke, prompting Jimin to slide closer to you and reach a hand out to touch you, before he thought better of it and let his hand stay there, midair.

Pursing your lips, you moved closer slightly, letting your cheek rest in the palm of his hand. You melted at his touch, having not felt it for over a week. “I’m so sorry, baby,” he sobbed as your eyes closed at his gentle touch, “I know it doesn’t fix it, but I will do everything I can to fix this and to be better for you.”

You opened your eyes and looked into Jimin’s watery ones, “This doesn’t mean you’re forgiven, but I love you, Jimin. Don’t be stupid anymore.”

Jimin gives you a small smile, rubbing his thumb against the apple of your cheek, “I know. I love you, too, baby,” he pulls away and scoots closer to you so his back is against the same cabinets as yours, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, “I told the guys I wouldn’t be back today. I hope that’s okay.”

“What would you do if I said no?”

He narrows his eyes at you playfully, “Go cry at the park.”

You let out a snort at his words, “Maybe I should say no so you can learn your lesson.”

He sighs, “I mean, I won't hold it against you. But I would much rather stay here. Besides, you need someone to clean your knees up, and probably carry you to your bed.” He’s smirking now, realizing his words are true.

Looking down at your bruised knees, you try to straighten your legs, only to wince at the searing pain you feel in them. “Oh shit,” you breath, “that really hurts.”

“Hey, you’re okay,” Jimin says as he stands up, picking you up bridal style with him, “I got you now, and I always will.”

[daydreamingatnight209]

Hi guys! I did have a post before I this one but I loved it so much I wanted to share it with you! The still used for this one is what I envisioned the last part of this but with later Spencer seasons so just pretend 😅😂.

Feedback is always welcome ✨💞

“I will Love You, Forever and Always”

Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Warnings- Angst (but with a fluffy ending!) 💕

Prompt- “Maybe I don’t want to be just friends!”

——————————

“I don’t believe they are just friends” Derek ponders as him and Emily walk into the BAU that Monday morning.

“Morgan seriously we have been here before, they are just friends” Emily explains for the 100th time to her friend, but he wasn’t buying it.

“I mean come on, look at them” he huffs, looking straight at your desk.

Truth be told if the people around you didn’t know of the dynamic between yourself and Dr. Spencer Reid it would look like you were indeed more the friends. Currently you were sat upon the top of his desk, swinging your legs laughing at something he was discussing. His hand rested over the top of yours while he used the other to explain his point.

That wasn’t the only scene that was up for debate, over the past years there had been many moments exactly like this one, hence Morgan’s suspicions.

Like how he would give you piggy back rides to your car after a long day. Or like how you two never failed to have lunch together, case or no case.

No one questioned it when you would always find reasons to be in each other’s presence or how you would both end up at one or the others apartment for movie and a take out.

It became standard procedure for you both to be seated on the sofa in the jet, either napping or reading together and how Spencer was always the one to take you home after a night out with the girls.

You had all the makings of a wonderful young couple, and yet.... you weren’t.

This hurt you especially as you were head over heels for your best friend but your past experiences made it extremely difficult for you to act upon these feeling, scarred by multiple rejections from others.

You told yourself that it’s better to have him as a friend, then nothing at all.

It had broken your heart every day since the day you had met him.

You struggled with it but hid it well. Until the this week. It was becoming unbearable. You’d avoided him the weekend that just passed, needing time for yourself yet it felt awfully strange. To avoid suspicions you rode into work with him on that Monday but your pretend persona was breaking and over the week everyone was aware. including Spencer.

He hated the sudden shift in your behaviour and it confused him greatly.

He needed answers and he would confront his anxiety to do so.

It didn’t go as planned, he confronted you and got answers, just not the ones he expected.

You loved him and he missed it.

————————————

You were in tears and at the end of your tether. Spencer had found you and your walls had been broken down.

“Maybe I don’t want to be just friends Spencer!” You cried out.

“I had to watch for years, girls flirting with you in bars, you fall for JJ and you be broken in two with Maeve. It broke me seeing you like that Spencer, I wanted to take away all and any pain and wouldn’t” you take a breath, wiping the tears. It wouldn’t matter, they just kept falling.

Spencer went to speak but you didn’t want to hear it. You couldn’t.

“I know you love her, I know you have loved, and that’s okay but Spencer I love you and I can’t keep doing this. I’m sorry”

You rush out of the room, ignoring the reactions of those present. Hotch granted you a week of personal time of which you spent lay in bed, attempting to sort through what you were feeling. You didn’t leave your apartment once.

———————————

You resurfaced into society exactly a week later, not by choice but by request. The team was worried about you and Rossi had demanded that you come over. The weather was nice and you although you didn’t want to you needed to get away from staring at the same four walls that held your bedroom together.

You thew on some clothes and tied your hair into a messy bun before setting of to the location your presence was requested. You tried your best to prepare yourself for who you were about to face.

Spencer.

Yes the team would be there also but it was being tasked with seeing Spencer that was creating the nerves. You hadn’t spoken to him since your justified meltdown in the bullpen. It wasn’t that he hadn’t tried. At first he had tried calling and texting but you couldn’t bring yourself to respond.

He would arrive at your apartment for 3 days straight and beg for you to talk to him before he gave up. You sat on the other side of that door, silently crying.

Contact stopped after that.

You arrive at Rossi’s faster then you had liked and had to calm yourself before ringing the doorbell.

You put on a smile and greet everyone. Spencer was nowhere to be found.

You decided to sit by the pool. You wasn’t aware of how long you had been sat there inside your now head, but soon, one by one the team filtered inside and the sun begun to set. You were so focused on the wheels turning aimlessly in your head you didn’t notice Spencer stood beside you, he caught your attention with a small hesitant cough.

You jump and look up in his direction with a faint sad smile forming.

He copies your actions before sliding down next to you.

The tension in the air made no effort to disappear.

It felt like an eternity before either one of you spoke.

“You were wrong you know”

You look to at him with confusion clouding my features.

“Yes, I loved JJ, but not in the way you think. Yes I loved and will always love Maeve but she wouldn’t want me stuck in time, wallowing in grief. She’d want me to move on and be happy”

Your lips tremble. You weren’t ready for this but you knew in reality if you didn’t confront this, you would lose your best friend.

You let him keep talking as you couldn’t even form a sentence.

“I’m happy with you, and I don’t want to be just friends either. In fact right now? I really would like to kiss you. Would you let me do that?

You felt as if time had stopped when you processed what he had said. Shock almost paralysed you but you managed to command your head to nod ever so slightly.

Spencer didn’t waste any time he closed the gap immediately and let his lips catch onto yours. It felt as if the star were aligning and everything was alright in the world.

Too caught up in the moment, you slide in your seat on the water that surround where you were sat and fell into the pool casing Spencer to follow you in.

You laugh, happiness returning as you swim back towards your one and only.

You couldn’t help but stare in his eyes and take in his features. The way his eyes crinkled as his grins and how his eyes tell a story or wonder and pain. The tips of your noses touch and you take a moment to remember. You never wanted this night to end. You kiss him once more, you could feel his passion as his finger tips grip your face ever so gently. He pulls apart once more and says,

“I will love you forever and always, my love”

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