#just. sorry. i’m having so many thoughts abt them tonight

[ghostputty]

i always wish i could’ve followed through w alexia and adonis’s stories because they r so heartfelt and meaningful to me and maybe one day i will actually be able to tell them but for now they’ll sit and simmer in my brain

[a-kaash-me-outside]

the walls are thin - ch5

in which atsumu is your college neighbor with whom you share a wall. previous | ch5 | next [masterlist]

// overly attentive and completely different than you ever expected him to be ~ ᴀᴛsᴜᴍᴜ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ~ 7955 ᴡᴏʀᴅs

a look into this chapter: oops, 18+ minors dni eventual smut, masturbation, incessant flirting (as always), msby besties, oh we're doing this already?, feelings are confusing but developing, drinking, frustrating a bit sorry abt that, she/her pronouns

send an ask and i’ll add ya to the taglist! ~ ♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

“i miss you,” he complains. you’d think you’d have gotten used to that phrase coming out of his mouth by now, but you can still feel your skin tingle. you roll your eyes nonetheless. 

“it’s not even been a full day,” you retort. 

he mulls over this for a minute before deciding that you’re wrong, “not true.”

“i think it is,” you say, “but even if it has been a full day, that’s kinda…,” you trail off, “pathetic?” 

he laughs, the pang in your heart telling you that maybe it isn’t so pathetic to miss somebody after not seeing them for a few tens of hours. you smile at him, eyes moving away from his gaze after just a few seconds. 

“i miss you too, maki,” you reciprocate. 

“not so pathetic after all,” he points at you through the phone. 

you purse your lips to the side, thoughtful, “no, still pathetic i think, just from both sides.”

“yea, fair,” he says, flipping over in his bed, lying on his side, messy hair against his pillow in a way that you’ve seen in person a few too many times. he called you this morning before the two of you had even gotten out of bed. “so, what did you even do last night without me?”

“well, i was planning on staying in and spending all weekend by myself,” you start, “but i actually went over to atsumu’s last night.”

“you? hung out with atsumu? on a friday night? what kinda things did you have to do for that to happen?” he asks, one eyebrow raised. 

“nothing,” you sneer at him, “he’s the one that suggested it actually.”

“yea, and how did that go?” he asks, tiny tinge of jealousy hidden behind the sarcasm at the end of the sentence.

“weirdly good. i thought he might try to make a move or something, but we just kinda hung out,” you explain, maybe omitting the parts where you fell asleep on his chest and told him that you think about him all the time. 

“and what are you up to tonight?” all of the questions that he keeps asking about your weekend are making you miss him even more, because the answer is nothing but you wish the answer was hanging out with maki.

you sigh dramatically, “well, you guys left me, so i’m having lunch with atsumu, but i’m on my own tonight. which isn’t bad actually, going to just spend some time alone, get caught up on assignments, whatever.”

“i’d probably be having more fun with you,” he admits.

“what? not going good over there?” you ask.

“no, it’s a blast. i’ve missed these guys and it’s been super fucking fun. last night, hajime convinced oikawa to jump in the lake with him and because oikawa was really drunk, he did it, but hajime didn’t jump with him and oikawa was really pissed. swear to god he almost drowned. it was really great,” maki laughs at the thought and then responds to your concerned look, “he didn’t drown, yn, calm down, it was funny.”

“and i’ve got to catch up with people that i haven’t seen since high school,” maki shrugs, pausing, “but i mean, they’re not you.”

you’re about to react, some form of i get that coming out of your mouth as there is a harsh knock on maki’s door. “come in,” maki answers. 

from off screen, you hear oikawa mumble something. it’s quiet. you’re not sure you could’ve made it out if you hadn’t previously spent so much time with oikawa. “hajime wants to go to the diner to get food, get dressed.” 

“alright, alright, i’m just gonna say bye to yn,” maki says, sitting up in his bed. 

there’s a loud squeak of the mattress as oikawa jumps on the bed, you assume. “yn! how is everything back there? making it by without us?”

“it’s been one day, guys,” you groan, jokingly. “but it’s good. i’m good.”

“yn hung out with atsumu last night,” maki says. it sounds like a tattle. 

oikawa tilts his head to the side, “last night?” he’s sporting a devious smile as he pounces on maki, both hands covering maki’s ears as he says hushed, “and how did it go?”

a blush rises to your cheeks at the whole spectacle. maki is trying to push oikawa off of him and oikawa, surely used to testing iwaizumi in the same ways, is able to hold his ground. “good, it went good!” you reply in a laugh.

“and? did anything happen?” 

“no! stop it!” you say, watching as maki finally throws oikawa off of him. 

“okay! okay!” oikawa has both of his hands up in defeat, sliding off of the bed and walking towards the door. “10 minutes, maki, we’re leaving in 10.” the door closes off screen.

maki shakes his head, slightly out of breath, “i gotta go, but i’ll talk to you later, okay? i’ll text you.”

you nod. “and i’ll see you sunday?” you ask.

he tilts his head, questioning, “it hasn’t even been a full day. kinda pathetic.”

“fine,” you say, calling his bluff.

“no! i’ll see you sunday, loser,” he says quickly, “god, let me make fun of you for being obsessed with me once in a while.”

you can’t stop smiling. “alright, alright. see you sunday, maki. can’t wait.”

“can’t wait,” he repeats and then hangs up.

&lt; 11:21 pm < have a good day ♡

> maki ♡ / 11:21 pm > you too ♡

/++/

you’ve forgone yours and atsumu’s lawn blanket set up as per his request, which you weren’t really expecting. after the events of last night, you assumed he might want to have the space to be close to you. maybe not. 

you didn’t ask questions, just chose a familiar picnic table and sat on the side that you knew you could watch atsumu approach from. 

and you do, eyes on him as he walks towards you. he cuts through the lawn, deviating from the concrete path, throwing a smile your way when he recognizes that you’re watching him. 

“yknow it’s almost getting too cold to keep sitting out here,” you say as he approaches, gesturing to your spot on the lawn. your spot. you cross your arms over one another, shivering slightly. fall is settling in, the semester more over than it is started.

he walks around to your side of the bench and sits beside you. you’re not sure if he’s doing this on purpose, making you feel this flustered. when he takes his jacket off, the same one that you met him in, the same one that was hanging on the back of his chair last night, and presents it in front of you, you know that he must be doing this on purpose. 

“are you really giving me your jacket right now?” you ask, mind screaming at you to just grab it. “we’re not in a cheesy rom-com.”

“are ya cold or not?” he asks, extending it a bit further. 

“yes,” you mutter, grabbing it from him and sliding it on. “thank you, tsumu.” you’re enveloped with him, soft fabric infused with his clean scent, and you’re not sure you’re going to give this back, so you hope it’s not that important to him. “it’s cute that your accent comes out when you’re short,” you point out. 

“shuddup,” he says, shaking his head. you scooch over closer to him, legs pressed together. he throws his arm around your shoulder, picks at your lunch, and you’re very aware at how much of a couple you look like right now. it’s quiet, peaceful.

he breaks the silence with a sentence that you’re confused by how he thought it was a good idea, “don’t be mad.”

you immediately face him, expression contorted into confusion and maybe a bit of anger for no reason other than what else are you supposed to feel when someone prefaces with that?

he explains, “i’ve been thinking about what you said last night and-“

“TSUM TSUM!!” 

you jump at the loud voice and nickname. you can’t locate the source so you swivel your head. you search for whoever is calling for atsumu while he continues to explain, “so maybe i told my friends that i think they could meet you and we were getting lunch today.”

“bo, come on, you said you’d be chill,” another voice, a different voice, says. 

“and maybe they didn’t even let me explain, just said they would be there and maybe were a bit too enthusiastic about it?” he shrugs.

you spot the source now, the same buff man from the selfie smiling at you wide and waving excessively. you offer a small wave back. 

“me? meet your friends?” you ask, shocked. you obviously were about to meet his friends. they were crossing the lawn as you spoke. 

“i meant it last night, i just didn’t know you wanted to meet them,” atsumu says plainly. “and if it’s important to you, then it’s important to me.” ba-bump. 

you nod, because you’re certain that if you tried to speak, your words would come out jumbled. 

the two men take a seat across from you. the man with black and white hair beams, “it’s so great to meet you finally. we told him, said she’d probably love to meet us, but i think he’s just been embarrassed about us or something.”

“yn, this is bokuto,” atsumu introduces you. 

“and i’m sakusa,” the man with black hair and curly hair says, introducing himself. 

“it’s really great to meet you both,” you offer.

“hinata is going to be so sad he missed this,” bokuto says, “missing out on finally meeting the girl tsum tsum’s been talking about for weeeeeeks.”

“that’s enough,” atsumu says, shaking his head as he uses his free hand to shake it in front of bokuto. 

“bo’s right,” sakusa reasons, “atsumu does talk about you a lot.”

“guys, see, this is exactly why i didn’t want you to meet her, god,” atsumu says, clearly embarrassed, not used to being on defense around you, not like this. 

bokuto and sakusa are just smiling. 

“she deserves to know,” sakusa reasons, gesturing towards you. 

“yea, i deserve to know,” you speak up. there’s a prideful smile on sakusa’s face.

“never letting you guys interact again,” atsumu shakes his head, scrapes his fingers against your hip in a way that almost makes you jump. you can hear the lightness in his voice and when you turn to look at him, you can see the smallest warm smile. 

“so how do you guys know tsumu?” you ask, nickname slipping out just on instinct. 

neither of them tease you for it explicitly, but they do exchange a knowing look. if you were closer to them you could decipher the hidden meaning of she said it. she said the name. 

“volleyball,” bokuto says, “we all met at volleyball. atsumu is our setter. but also now our best bud.”

“yknow, i don’t think i’ve actually ever asked anything about your volleyball stuff,” you say to atsumu, putting your hand on his knee. you’ve always just talked about it vaguely, no real details. 

“but he's the volleyball guy,” sakusa smirks. 

“no-,” atsumu says.

“yeah! that’s what that guy called you? right?” bokuto asks. atsumu is about to interrupt again, a last-ditch plea on his face, but bokuto doesn’t notice or chooses to ignore it, “maki.” your best friend’s name comes out of this stranger’s mouth in a mocking tone and oh my god atsumu talks shit about maki to his teammates/close friends.

there are a million ways you could react to this statement, stammering and stumbling over your words as you land on a sharp laugh. “i- you-,” you can’t stop laughing, “is that? does atsumu-.” you really can’t talk. 

“what?!” atsumu asks as if he has any room to be the one questioning you.

“you just,” tears are forming at the corners of your eyes as you lean into his shoulder, forehead against his jacketless skin, “fuckin- it got to you that badly?” you turn your attention towards bokuto, “is that how he said it?” 

bokuto, ever the betrayer of atsumu, nods his head. 

“quit it,” atsumu says, less shocked and embarrassed now, your laughter infecting him. “that’s how he said it.” there’s a smile behind the words, soft laughter coming along with it. when you don’t stop laughing for another few seconds, and then a few more, atsumu wraps his arms around you, smothering him in his strong arms. “yer being ridiculous.”

you push away from him and in between your fits of simmering down laughter, subsiding for only a few seconds at a time before picking back up again, you catch the smile on sakusa’s face that says so clearly that you can tell without knowing him at all, so this is why he can’t stop talking about you.

once you’ve finally composed yourself, you turn to sakusa and bokuto, “and you guys play?”

“we both play outside hitter,” sakusa explains, looking like he’s about to elaborate a bit further, but atsumu interrupts.

“since i’m the setter, that means that i’m kinda like the brains of the operation.”

“oh, fuck off, miya,” sakusa says, rolling his eyes. 

you laugh, “i know what a setter does.”

“how? we’ve never talked about it?”

“well, no, but i’ve seen maki play plenty of times,” you note, “oikawa’s a setter. maki and iwa play outside hitter. you didn’t know they played too?”

“oh my god, they’re both the volleyball guys,” sakusa comments, leaning back in his seat like he’s just had the biggest epiphany. 

“fuck off, omi,” atsumu sneers and then turns his attention back to you, “you never told me.”

you put your hands up, “i don’t know! i guess it just never came up.”

bokuto reaches out his arm, grabbing your forearm excitedly. “well, one day you’ll have to come watch us play, yn,” he says, smiling brightly at you. 

“i would really love that, actually. tsumu’s never invited me to one of his games before, so,” you say, shrugging. honestly, it had never been a thought on your mind before, a lot of things hadn’t been on your mind before, but now that you’re sitting here with his very fun friends, you really want to be a part of it all. a part of this side of his life, not the one that you’ve created and pulled him into, lunches and tiny meet ups and dragging him to the grocery store and having him babysit your plants, but whatever this is that’s making your chest feel so light. 

“or let you meet us,” sakusa chimes in. 

“yea, for good fuckin’ reason,” atsumu quips back.

“well, consider yourself officially invited to our next game,” bokuto nods, “here, give me your number and we can-.”

“no way,” atsumu interjects. 

you’re already reaching into your bag, pulling out your phone, ready to punch in bokuto’s phone number. 

“i really don’t need you guys to have more ways to talk shit about me,” atsumu says, but there’s no malice in the words. 

“i wasn’t going to talk shit about you, tsum tsum,” bokuto rolls his eyes, offering out his hand for you to drop your phone into. atsumu is skeptical as he lets you give your phone over to bokuto. as soon as his fingers curl around the phone, bokuto finishes his thought, “but there are plenty of cute photos of you that i have that don’t seem very fair for yn not to have.”

atsumu lunges forward to grab the phone out of bokuto’s hand, but bokuto pulls it back quickly. “bokkun, i swear to god,” atsumu says, standing up as best he can while still being inside of the bench. bokuto is already two steps ahead, springing from his seat, nearly hitting sakusa as he does. 

“watch it,” sakusa warns. 

bokuto is gone, running away as he presses buttons on your phone. atsumu is much more careful on his side, makes sure to unravel from you before stepping out of his seat. “i’m not kidding!” despite the head start bokuto acquired, atsumu is already almost on his heels. bokuto is laughing, head thrown back as he messes with your phone. 

sakusa takes this moment of chaos to talk to you directly. his voice pulls you out of this awestruck daze watching atsumu jump on bokuto’s back. “i can see why he talks about you all the time,” sakusa says lowly across the table as bokuto runs in circles with atsumu on his back as if he weighs nothing at all.

you’re feeling a bit more confident at this sentence, a bit more easily yourself, so you let it slip as you turn to face sakusa, joking as you say, “what? i’ve proven how cool i am in this tiny lunch?”

sakusa chuckles, breathy, before nodding affirmingly, “not exactly what i meant, but yes, that too.” he pauses, contemplating if the thing he’s about to say next is pushing a boundary, saying too much, figuring out how to phrase it before it actually comes out of his mouth. “i meant more that i understand why he talks about you all the time.”

you’re quiet, tilting your head curiously. 

he doesn’t let you sit on your thoughts, finishes his sentence right as bokuto and atsumu are running back towards the table, “because he’s really into you.”

you don’t get to respond, interrupted by bokuto hiding on one side of you, finishing whatever he’s doing on his phone before thrusting the phone back into your hands. he sticks his tongue out at atsumu and atsumu narrows his eyes. “atsumu’s just worried that he’s going to fuck up at our game when you’re there.”

this is all so cute, the bantering and the things that bokuto is saying, but you have so many fucking questions. you want them to run back over there for hours so that you can have a long, in-depth conversation with sakusa about what exactly he fucking means. 

you don’t want to seem unresponsive or like you can’t keep up, so you reply, “maybe i’ll bring maki along and he can show off like he always does.” you almost regret it, but sakusa and bokuto start laughing just like you were laughing earlier and bokuto is slamming his fist on the table and atsumu doesn’t look hurt at all, he looks amiable. 

you turn your head towards atsumu, the laughter allowing you cover to speak just for him, “or i’ll just go and cheer you on. if you’ll have me there.” atsumu gives you a short, affectionate nod. 

sakusa and bokuto leave about a half hour (that’s spent mostly making fun of atsumu the entire time) after that, saying that they’ll see you again soon, they’re sure, and waving as they leave. as soon as they’re out of earshot, atsumu lets out a huge breath. 

“i told you,” he says, shaking his head, body finally relaxed in a way that makes you realized he was tense the entire time. “i told you that they were fucking weird.”

“they’re not weird, they’re sweet,” you say back. there is a certain peacefulness now that you assume only exists because of the huge absence of noise. it’s not better, just more familiar. you slot your fingers into atsumu’s, holding onto his forearm with your other hand. 

“yea, if you’re not on the other side of all of their bullshit,” atsumu shakes his head. 

“maybe if you didn’t talk about me so much,” you tease.

“don’t let it go to your head,” he says, lifting his arm that you don’t have a hold of and tapping on your forehead. you press your forehead into him, laughing. 

the two of you sit together for another few hours, pulling work out of your bags that neither of you really focus on. you mostly spend the time cracking jokes at the other’s expense or for the other to laugh at and finding new ways to get tangled into each other on a picnic table bench until it’s time to leave.

“i’ll see you sometime tomorrow, yeah?” you ask, moving around school work and responsibilities and seeing maki in your head to make room for atsumu in your day.

he leans forward, presses the quickest, smallest kiss into the side of your cheek, “obviously.” as he leaves, the warmth stays, on your cheek and down your chest, through your fingers and toes. partially because of the kiss, sure, but mostly because of the hoodie he’s entrusted in your care. 

/++/

you are both so excited for and dreading your night alone.  you are excited because it’s been awhile since you’ve just had some time in your room by yourself. you are welcoming the extra time to catch up on assignments and take a shower and not do anything else that requires thinking. 

you are, however, despite all of this, mostly filled with dread. saturday night is a staple miya atsumu hookup night. last week it was fine, the week before that, sure, whatever, but after last night, the thought of atsumu hooking up with some random girl that he found out at a party is bringing back a familiarly upset stomach. if you hadn’t had spent the night last night as you did, a taboo listening session might even have been in the stars tonight, would have been maybe really welcomed. 

but now you’ve slept in his bed. you’ve been in his arms. you’ve been on the other side of the wall. there are memories attached to this vision of him now. when you close your eyes, you can see his room so clearly. if you had to think about them in his bed, the one that you felt safe cuddled next to him in, the one where he told you about all of his childhood friends, if you had to think of her on his pillow instead of you? 

you take a deep breath, closing your eyes. you will have a great night all by yourself even if that means sleeping on the farside of your room and using your noise canceling headphones at full volume.

the later it gets into the night, the more antsy you’re getting. hours are ticking by and you have never been this productive in your life, assignment after assignment finished just to stop yourself from thinking for longer than a few seconds. you won’t have to worry about school work for the next few weeks. 

it’s nearly 1 am by the time that you’ve finished all of the work that you possibly can, which, in hindsight, was such a horrible idea. finishing all of your work before the 1-3 am time of the night? 

well, maybe if you’re just not in your room when he gets back, you can just put your headphones on and not have to think about it at all tonight. you grab a change of clothes, your towel, all of your bathroom essentials, and make your way to dorm showers at the other end of the hall. 

your shower takes much longer than it should because you make sure that it does, but somewhere along the way you must have pissed someone off, something from your past must be coming back to haunt you because instead of timing it perfectly to miss him completely, you’ve timed it perfectly to catch him completely. 

he’s all dressed up, hair perfectly done in a way that begs to be messed up, stupidly cute outfit, something plain but looks insanely good on him, enough cologne to fill the entire hallway, and, only when he sees you walking down the hallway, a huge smile on his face. 

you feel extremely underdressed, walking up to him. partially on account of the fact that you are wearing a huge tshirt, underwear, and absolutely nothing else. you don’t know if he’s already been drinking, if he doesn’t notice, or if he doesn’t care, but his eyes follow down your body slowly. 

every single moment in your life has happened because of a culmination of things; this is just a fact. everything that has happened in your life up until this moment has built up to this moment, that’s how living works. you knew this. 

but god you wish you could see a chart, could zoom in on every single point that had a hand in this moment and alter them in some sort of way that wouldn’t have caused you to say what comes out of your mouth. 

you look down at your phone screen, checking the time. “woah, you hung out with me on friday and no company tonight?” you ask as you step around him and in front of your door. why would you say that. 

you know why, vaguely, not completely. you’re not completely sure why you chose to essentially divulge the biggest secret you’re harbored of your entire college career in one sentence, but you know that it had something to do with how flustered you were in that moment, how good atsumu looks in front of you, and maybe the fact that it’s all you’ve been able to think about tonight.

it slips out, really, no barrier of judgment. you guys have been friends for too long. the quips and the teasing come so naturally now that you can’t help it. 

this is the first time that you’re admitting this to him. your heart is pounding as you wait for him to respond. he’s not responding quick enough. you hope that he just doesn’t clock it, doesn’t understand the implications of the joke.

he furrows his eyebrows together, stopping completely, “what?”

your body is burning. how do you backtrack from this. where do you go from here.

when you don’t answer immediately, his mind starts filling in the blanks, and he starts asking more questions, “company?”

“yea, like,” you clear your throat, shifting your towel under your arm, “y’know saturday nights and company.”

he turns to face you completely and you feel like this is your first time meeting him. you feel small, tiny, chest aching because of the violence of your heart. even more so when you see the embarrassment creeping onto his face. “how would you know if i have company?”

this is it. the fucking moment. it’s been over 4 months. the two of you have lived next to each other for nearly an entire semester. you went 2 months without even knowing him, 1 month with fixing all of your previously conceived notions, and this past month falling for him and it’s all about to go crashing down because of a stupid joke you’ve made. 

“you weren’t exactly subtle about it,” you answer and you’re amazed at how your voice is actually audible. 

a lot of things click for atsumu in that moment, you can see it on his face. 

“you heard that?” he asks, quietly stunned.

“all of it,” you answer.

it’s quiet for a moment. you can’t even hear the hum of the lights or the beat of your own heart as you wait for his reaction to the admission. 

“fuck,” atsumu says, palm smoothing over his face, “god, i can’t recover from that at all can i? holy shit.” he doesn’t ask why you didn’t tell him. he doesn’t look put off or uncomfortable. “holy shit. okay. well, fuck.”

you’re about to apologize when he shakes his head, fingers pushing through his hair. you can’t exactly read whatever emotion is there, maybe panic? you can’t get a good read because it’s gone soon thereafter. 

“no,” he says slowly, “i don’t have company tonight. was going to go out and drink with some friends, but i left my ID in my room.” he gestures to the keys in his hand, knuckles white around them. “you still alone this weekend?”

you nod, not really knowing what to do, where to go from here still. he’s not being weird. he’s trying to resume conversation with you, but something feels off. you want to say, “yea, i said i’d be alone all weekend, don’t you listen?” but any joke that comes to you feels too harsh, too out of place, terrified that it’ll end up an admission of something else.

“do you want-,” he begins to ask, but you shake your head so hard that you’re convinced you shake water droplets out of your hair and onto him. 

“no, no, are you kidding? i look like this,” you gesture down.

atsumu looks like he’s about to say something, but nothing comes out. fuck. you’ve really ruined things now. 

“go out with your friends,” you say, nodding your head down to the elevators. 

“we don’t have to go out,” atsumu adds.

“i’m not keeping you in on the weekend again,” you say, shifting your weight. “seriously, i’m okay alone tonight, you go on out.”

“do you want to drink?” he asks, persistent as always.

“tsumu, i told you, i’m not going out tonight,” you say. the nickname is muscle memory at this point and you’re glad that at least you have some sort of remnants of a few minutes ago. 

“just, here, we can drink here,” he gestures to his dorm room. you feel like a fucking freshman again. “if you don’t want to drink, that’s cool. i just-” he hesitates. it looks more difficult than it ever has, but he steps towards you and brushes a strand of hair out of your face. “it feels weird for the first time between us and i don’t think i can leave if you’re not feeling okay,” he finishes, overly attentive and completely different than you ever expected him to be, and you feel so horrible.

“tsumu-,” you start, but he isn’t having any of it.

“i’m serious.”

“one drink,” you say, “and then you go out with your friends.”

/++/

the thing about one drink is that nobody really has one drink. 

or, rather, you do at first and then you have another because the guy that you’re really into is in front of you, telling joke after joke trying to make you feel better about your relationship because you’ve just admitted that you’ve heard him having sex all semester.

and unfortunately for you and your self-deprecation, the guy that you’re really into is really good at making you feel better, not just with jokes and compliments, but with soft touches and genuine smiles. 

“i can’t believe you’re staying in with me when you look like that,” you say, shaking your head. you didn’t even have time to change, are still in the same post-shower outfit that you were before. 

“come on, you look better than i do,” he says, shaking his head, taking a sip of his drink and gesturing to you with his cup.

you’re sitting on his floor because the bed was a bit much after the painful conversation you had in the hallway. he’s sitting in front of you, back against his desk, as he sets his drink on the floor beside him. you let yourself flush, accept his compliment if only to fasttrack back to how it felt between the two of you before. 

the thing about more than one drink is that nobody really chooses a stopping point, not when the awkwardness has faded and the guy that you’re really into continues to stay the night with you. and definitely not when said guy has taken root next to you, pressed up against you completely. 

“fuck,” he shakes his head out of nowhere. he doesn’t even give you an opportunity to ask what, just repeats himself, louder, “fuck.”

“what?” you ask, turning to look at him, but not moving a single inch away from him.

“i can’t believe you heard all of that,” he says, shaking his head against the side of the bed. he laughs lightly, unbelievably. “that’s really just so embarrassing.”

for the first time tonight, at the mere mention of it, you don’t want to crawl into your room and cry. you’re not sure what exactly it is (it’s the alcohol), but you laugh with him, light at first, and then growing until you’re shaking your head. it is actually kinda funny. 

“it was funny at first, honestly,” you tell him, “i was like oh my god?? and then it progressively got, yknow, not as funny when i had morning classes and exams.”

“is that why we didn’t meet for the first two months of living next to each other?” he asks, turning his head to look at you. and he does, look at you, stares into your eyes with the amount of focus that someone as drunk as the two of you should not have been able to do.

“not really, more like a gift from god,” you say.

“hey,” he whines.

“yea, that night we met i was coming back from maki’s because i couldn’t take it anymore,” you admit to him. you can see the embarrassment settle in even heavier than before, a remorse coming alongside it. after all this time, you really didn’t mean for him to feel bad about it. “you don’t have to be embarrassed.”

“i mean, that’s so- i can’t believe-,” he stammers. you’re not used to seeing him like this and you understand why he had to have at least one drink with you before going out, because right now atsumu is feeling exactly how you felt out in the hallway and all you want to do is fix that.

even if it is at your own expense. 

“it’s fine, really, it’s fine,” you say, “it was funny at first, and then annoying, but i mean, eventually-” don’t you fucking dare “eventually it was good for me too.” stop fucking talking.

now he looks really confused and if you don’t explain no fucking stop he’s going to be even more weirded out. 

“well, i just mean, like,” you shrug, “like eventually i started to enjoy it.” shut the fuck up. 

he chooses his next words carefully, or as carefully as he can when the room is slightly moving. “like how?”

don’t say a fucking word. “like listening,” you admit. even in your drunken state, your stomach does flips. 

his face still has tiny elements of confusion, but most of it morphs into something much needier than that. “to me?”

you nod, movements barely noticeable but they’re making your head spin. the air is still, room quiet save for both of your quickened breathing. then, the only thing you can see is his hand, moving so slowly that you assume he’s afraid he’ll scare you off. he reaches across you, cups your cheek and pulls you to face him. when you’re looking at him, he doesn’t move his hand. 

he leans in towards you and you don’t know if it’s the alcohol in your body or the fact that an hour ago you were terrified that you would never be able to be in this room again, but you lean forward to meet him. he stops, just shy of your lips, talking so low that you can feel the vibrations against your lips. “and doing what?” he asks.

the whimper comes from your throat, lips tightly shut so it doesn’t have a chance to escape you. you lean forward further, pressing your forehead against his as his hand slides down your cheek to your jaw, fingers spanning your neck, curling softly so that his nails drag against your sensitive skin. you can feel it in your entire body. 

he lowers his head, nudges your chin with his nose, pushing your head further into his hand, exposing your neck. “can i?” he asks, breath tickling as he speaks. you’re not sure if he realistically thought you would deny him right now of anything that he wanted, really. you nod softly, not wanting to break out of his grasp.

the first thing that you feel are his teeth, scraping against the softness of your neck. and then you feel his lips closing around the skin. you close your eyes, no point in keeping your eyes trained on the ceiling, anyway. atsumu licks a strip up your neck before moving down again. he uses his free hand to pull at the neckline of your shirt, exposing your collarbones. he wraps his lips around the bone, sucking repetitively until you’re positive that there’s purplish marks wherever he picks his head up from.

his moves his hand from your jaw, trust you to keep the position that he’s moved you into, and you do. he rewards you for this, both hands smoothing down your body, following your curves, digging into them as he pleases, latheing his tongue over the same spots on your neck and chest. 

“tsumu,” you whine, not really sure for what, but just for more. his hands are on your thighs now, his fingernails pressing harshly into the fats of them before sliding upwards underneath the hem of your shirt. he can feel your skin in his hands now, can’t get enough of it as he moves his hands everywhere and anywhere he can. 

when he gets to your chest, takes both of your perfectly soft tits into his hand, you hear him stifle a grunt. he moves one hand quickly, grabbing at your hip, sliding down from your waist, pulling you towards him, facing towards him so that he can feel you again, so that he can play with your tits better. his touch is harsher this time, more desperate, more purposeful as he goes straight for your tits, no longer ghosting over your skin, but aching for your heavy tits to be in his hands. 

god, he can only imagine what they fucking look like all pretty and bouncing for him. fuck he needs to see them.

he pulls away from you, sits up from against the bed, moves in front of you. he’s on his knees, towering above you in your seated position. you’re looking up into his eyes, whimpers falling from your quivering lips. he cups your face again. you’re ready. you’re completely ready to recall every little thing that you have heard over the past month. you know atsumu, you know exactly what he likes, and you’re going to blow his fucking mind. 

knock knock knock.

just before his lips can touch yours, there’s a pounding knock on his door. 

“no fucking way,” atsumu says under his breath. 

“miya atsumu, get your ass out here now or i’m breaking down the fucking door.” knock knock knock knock knock knock. it's almost scary until you hear laughter from the hallway, snickering at first and then boisterous. 

“come on, i don’t even interrupt,” you say to atsumu, looking towards the door. 

knock knock knock knock knock knock. “we know you’re in there.”

“they’re not going to leave it alone until i answer,” he says, defeated, “i have to answer and then- then i’ll be right back and-.”

“atsumu, you have 10 seconds and i’m gonna start ramming,” the voice says.

atsumu scurries up from the floor, walking quickly over to the door as you adjust yourself, smoothing out your oversized tshirt and patting your hair. “what?” he hisses as he cracks the door open. the person on the other side of the door pushes it open completely. 

“we’re going out,” one voice says.

“another night,” atsumu says, the door already closing.

“i’m not leaving without you,” another voice replies, not pushing the door back open. 

“and i’m not leaving,” atsumu says, and you can tell he’s getting impatient now. 

from your spot on the floor, you recognize one of them as a guy from one of the photos. dark hair, carefree attitude. suna? you can’t remember exactly if you’ve gotten the name right. you’re surprised that you’ve even noticed the person at all. you don’t recognize any of the other two guys that are with him.

one of them, not suna, makes eye contact with you for the tiniest fraction of a second, “you literally have any other day to hookup with some chick.” you wonder if he thinks they’re being quiet. your cheeks burn. you want to be back in your room now. 

“it’s not like that,” ba-bump, he says, trying to quiet them a bit or at least just bringing his own volume down. 

“doesn’t matter,” one of them says.

“i didn’t want to spoil it, but,” suna says, “samu’s here.”

atsumu gets quiet for a second, really mulling over the weight of everything that’s happening, at the two sides that are pulling him in different directions. “samu’s here?”

“yeah, he was supposed to be here earlier, but his train got in super late and so he just got here and he wants to go out because it’s a saturday night. it was supposed to be a surprise or whatever, but you’re not listening to me, your best friend, and just leaving now. so that’s what you get,” suna spews.

“but i-,” atsumu says, instinctively looking back towards you. the look that you’re wearing almost makes him stay. “fuck.” he slams the door on the trio of guys and you are so grateful. you finally feel like you can breathe, can relax just the tiniest bit. he walks back over to you. “i’ve gotta-.”

you push yourself up from off of the ground, stumbling a little bit as atsumu helps you back onto your feet. “you don’t have to explain yourself, tsumu, go hang out with your friends.”

“if samu wasn’t here, i wouldn’t-.”

“i know,” you say. and it’s the truth. you 100% fully believe him with all of your heart. 

“you could go out with us,” he offers.

you’re not sure that you could handle being referred to as some chick all night or atsumu’s side piece or looked at like you’d never be looked at again. you weren’t ready for a miya atsumu night out and definitely not when you’re already feeling it as much as you are. you shake your head. “you go and have fun, see your brother.”

he looks so torn, so frantic as he tries to think out the rest of his night, how to get drunk you back to your dorm without having to expose you to the people in the hallway. “i’m probably going to stay with rin and samu tonight anyway. do you want to just stay here and maybe,” he hesitates, the knocking starts again, “you can meet my brother in the morning?”

“really?” you ask. 

knock knock knock knock. “it’s literally so getting so fucking late. hurry your ass up.”

atsumu helps you into his bed in not exactly the way he wanted to help you into bed tonight. “yes,” he answers, pulling the blankets over you, the softness of them so familiar. “and samu will love you and you will love him unfortunately.” atsumu reaches down and kisses your cheek. somehow it has you more flustered than anything that’s happened tonight. “tomorrow, okay?”

you nod. 

he moves quickly after he’s noticed how content you are, throwing on his shoes, grabbing his ID from his desk, muttering under his breath things that you’re not sure are meant for you. fucking kidding me now? gonna beat the shit out of him for fucking i can’t fucking. 

“goodnight, yn,” he says, reaching for the door, but not opening until you’ve said it back.

“goodnight, tsumu.”

you hear a click of the door, your eyes closing softly. and then you hear the voices. 

“you’re seriously leaving her in there?”

“guys- seriously,” atsumu says, trying to stop the questions about what was happening in the room before they showed up.

“why’re you leavin’ a one night stand in your-”

“i said it wasn’t fucking like that. leave it,” atsumu says through gritted teeth. you hear the lock click.

“no fucking way. that was fucking her wasnt it?” suna asks.

“stop, she can fucking hear you, the walls are thin,” atsumu snaps. 

you listen for the footsteps as they get quieter and quieter until you can’t hear any at all. you know you should be tired. you are tired, but you’re also in atsumu’s bed all alone. your eyelids are heavy and your breathing is slow and-

you reach your hand down between your legs. 

with the scenes that are playing in your mind, you’re almost sure you could make yourself come with one tiny finger. you spread your lips apart with two fingers, sliding your middle finger down your drenched slit. you push the tip of your finger against your hole, head tilting back messily into his pillow. 

he barely did anything to you at all, felt you up and kissed your neck, and you are soaking wet. your mind won’t stop wandering at where the night could have taken you if you weren’t interrupted. how deep he would be inside of you right now if you hadn’t been interrupted. at that thought, you plunge your fingers inside of you, moaning at how good they feel, but they’re not enough.

you’re missing your dildo, your fingers can’t reach deep enough, not even as you shove another finger in and circle your hips on them. you make the mistake of kneading at your tit, but it only leaves you missing the feeling of his huge hands grabbing at them. you’re feeling so fucking needy. it’s not enough that you’re doing this in his bed, you need to be doing it for him. you roll your hips against your fingers.

your clit rubs against the rough texture of the blanket and you almost come on the spot. “fuck,” you say aloud. you take your other hand on the outside of the blanket and push the fabric in between your legs, circling your hips against it. “mm fuck, tsumu.”

the blanket feels so good against you. he’s slept underneath these blankets, has probably jacked off to the thought of you underneath these blankets “fuck!” you say louder. you know exactly how loud you’re being, but you also know that no one that you care about is around to hear them. 

your hands search around the bed. you don’t have time to feel any regret. it feels so good, you’re chasing this high, so fucking close. your skin feels like it’s crawling, aching. you fucking need this. you throw the blanket off of you, take your panties off and throw them across the room somewhere that you’re sure you will regret when you have to get them in the morning, but you need to feel it completely against your swollen lips and pretty clit. 

you take the pillow that’s underneath your head and shove it between your legs. you press down on the soft pillow as hard as you can to get as much friction as you can as you fuck your clit into fabric that smells so fucking much like atsumu. you’re drenched, sloppy against his pillow but you can’t stop. your fingers grip into the cushion, his name falling off of your tongue like an unheard prayer. 

“please, so close, so close,” you say, thrusting your hips against the pillowcase faster. you’re going to come. you’re going to fucking come on the pillow that he’s going to sleep on. “oh my fucking god,” you cry and you let yourself go, flooding as you come against his pillow. you can feel the mess that you’ve made smearing against the textured fabric.you can’t move. your bones feel like they’ve been replaced with bricks, but you need to see it. you pull the pillow up, your eyes instantly drawn to the large wet spot right in the center. fuck. you throb, so painfully empty. “fuck,” you mutter to yourself and put the pillow back between your legs, “not enough.”

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[mastermindmiko]

Hi! Could please write more ron Weasley fluff with a little bit of angst, it could literally be abt anything<3

Charcoal pancakes and confessions

Hey! sorry that this is a bit late, but none the less, here it is.

Pairing: Ron Weasley + Reader word count: 1393 Trigger warnings: Sexual innuendos, and that's it I believe, but lmk. Summary: You and Ron spend time together at the Burrow without anymore and it gives you a glimpse of what you would want it to be like in the future.

a/n: once again doing the summary rhyming thing at the beginning of the chapter (calling it poetry would be an insult to poetry) lmk if I should scrap the idea, I do however think that it's pretty cute

Give me a day or two to spend within your arms, to show you that I’m all that you need. We can play pretend and just make believe with you by my side and your arms around me. We can foresee the future as I need it to be, with you by my side and our house under my feet. I know you’re not sure yet about you and me, but I need you to see that I could be your home, if not the one you want then the one that you need. 

I wake up to the smell of something burning, and a few shouts. I can hear many curses as I wake up. I sit up, and go to stand up, immediately noticing the ache in between my legs. A shiver runs up my body and I reach for the clothes that are scattered under the floor. Putting on only what’s necessary. 

The curses and shouts get louder as I walk down the stairs to where Ron is creating a mess in the kitchen. A fire is brewing underneath the pan, as a few lumpy black objects fuel it like coal. I grab my wand and wave a spell that reduces the fire to a small amount, then I grab a small glass of water and spill its contents till the fire is gone. I chuckle at the mess that the kitchen’s in, “What exactly were you trying to do?” 

“Pancakes.” He says and then he walks over to wrap his arms around me. He sets his chin on my shoulder and I place my hands above his over my stomach. He twirls me around causing a quick giggle to leave my throat. He grins down at me and he pulls me by my arm, having me tripping over my feet into his chest to give me a kiss. I say, “You didn’t have to.” 

“Of course I did…” He trails off then scans my body noticing the fabric that’s foreign to my skin but not his. He continues, “Especially when you look so good in my clothes.” 

“Ahh, you’re exaggerating.” I tease him, and he pulls me closer to his chest once more. I can smell his shampoo and lotion, making him even more heavenly to me. His face turns into a faux serious and he says, “Not at all, you’re completely breathtaking.” 

I loved days like this when his family all left the Burrow to attend to their business and Ron would invite me over. I’d imagine that is what it would be like if we were together and maybe even sharing a house. He pecks my lips and then whispers, “You feeling alright? Your legs okay?” 

“Mhm…” I say against his lips, and he grins, already reaching a hand down to cup my ass. He says, “That’s good cause we’re gonna do it again tonight.” 

“Not tonight, your parents are coming back.” I inform him, as I step away from his grasp and throw the bricks that he calls pancakes away. He frowns, and his arms fall to his sides as I slip away. He says, “They’re coming back the twenty third.” 

“Yes, and look at the calendar.” I say, and he looks back to where the calendar hangs. His mouth drops as he notices the number twenty three written in large numbers. He slumps down and sighs, “I thought we had another day…”

“It’s alright, there’ll be other times.” I tell him trying to brighten his mood. I motion for him to bring me a few eggs as I crack them over the already hot pan from Ron’s failed pancake attempts. He wraps his hands around me once more. He presses a kiss to my shoulder, and he trails up till he’s at my ear. I shiver and he says, “We’ll have to make the most of the next few hours then.” 

“I really wish I could, but I have to start packing.” I remind him and move aside so Ron can put the eggs on the plates and set them on the table. He already brought forks and knives for us to use on the table. He questions, “What will you be packing for?” 

“Your parents are coming back tonight, and your family will be visiting, as well as some other friends…” I trail off hoping he would get the idea without me having to spell it out for him. He just looks at me confused when he’s already eaten nearly half of his eggs. His head tilts to the side and my heart clenches at just how much I love it when he does that.

“We’re not going to be alone here anymore, Ron.” 

“So? My parents love you.” Ron tells me and I roll my eyes, and move the eggs around on my plate. I hint at it once more, “They’re not the problem, Ron.” 

“Is it the sex? Because I’m sure we can find somewhere to do it-” 

“Hermione’s going to be there, Ron.” I say, and his mouth forms an ‘o’ shape. He nods his head a couple times while I look down at my food. I put a piece of it in my mouth and chew slowly. He looks down understandably till he perks up again. He looks at me, eyebrows furrowed. He asks, “Wait, why’s that a problem?”

I sigh and I look at him, trying to see if he’s joking or not. He does look confused, he’s always been an idiot when it comes to matters of the heart. I look away and push the scrambled eggs around with my fork before whispering, “I don’t want everyone to know that I’m the girl you’re with until Hermione can be with you.” 

“I don’t understand.” Ron asks, and my chest burns with the reminder of what we have or lack thereof. He places a hand on my knee in support and I suck in a breath before telling him, “I don’t want everyone to know that you’re only just with me until you can be with Hermione because everyone knows that you want her and not me.” 

“I don’t get what you mean.” 

“Ron, stop acting like that. I know that you want Hermione, you’ve wanted her for years now, and I’m just a placeholder. We’ve been at this for almost two years now, and never once have you ever said that I was your girlfriend, you’ve never even told me you liked me…” I burst, and I can see his fallen expression.

“Is that what you think?” Ron asks, and I don’t reply, just opt to look at my feet instead. He reaches his hand out to turn my face towards him. A teardrop falls, and I shut my eyes at how stupid I feel. He brushes it away with his thumb. He says, “I want to be your boyfriend, I wasn’t sure if you wanted more, I didn’t want to pressure you with anything, especially since you always seemed very content with what we’ve got.” 

“Well, I’m a great actor.” I chuckle, and he grins at me. He reaches out to hold my hand that’s in my lap. He rubs smooth circles over my hand and he looks at my eyes then flushes. He says, “And I always thought it was pretty obvious.” 

“What is?” 

“That I’m in love with you.” He confesses and my heart lurches to my throat. I search and scan for answers in his eyes for any sort of lie or uncertainty, but he was just smiling at me. He chuckles, “Merlin, I’ve even been thinking about a ring design.” 

My heart thumps against my chest, and I blush. He reaches over to plant a lovely kiss on the back of my hand then the other. He kissed one cheek then the next, and finally landed on my lips. He sighs, “I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you earlier.” 

“I shouldn’t have assumed either…you were pretty heartbroken when you broke up with her.” I explained, recalling how he would send me a letter in the middle of the night asking me to meet him where he would talk my ear off about so many things just because he felt so lonely after she left him. Ron asks, “Do you know why Hermione broke up with me?” 

“No.” 

“It’s because even she realised that my heart belongs to you.”

a/n: Hope you liked it!

[blossomwritesthings]

𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 | 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐟 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝

⬷ 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞 ┊ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 ┊ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 →

pairing: minho x felix (minlix)

genre: dancer!minho/artist!felix. brothers best friend troupe. college au. age gap (abt 4 years). minho pov. extremely dark themes throughout, including smut - MDNI, 18+ only.

word count: 3.0k

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a/n: ya'll, I'm so fucking sorry. but I'm really putting Felix through the ringer in this fic 😭 the poor baby… but just know and remember that minho is back in his life and he has many ppl that care abt him, like his older brother chris. so I think he'll be okay in the end. 🥺 ily guys and thanks for all the support, drop a comment below with your thoughts~ 💗

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  After the taxi ride back home to Minho’s dorm on campus, everything else melted away. His mind slid into autopilot, his limbs moving without him even thinking about it. 

  Before he knew it, he had carried Felix all the way through the dorm’s front door, into the kitchen, past the living room, and into his room. His bed was a full size - which was quite rare on campus since most dorm rooms were so small they could only fit a twin. But he and Chris had gotten lucky with a larger dorm since they were friends with the senior RA on campus. 

  He never thought he’d have Felix on his bed again - sprawled out across his sheets, hair fanned against the pillow and hiding half of his face underneath the blonde locks. Never thought he'd get the chance to see such a sight after all of the years had passed since their time growing up in Busan. Felix looked so delicate and fragile just then. Slowly, Minho made room beside him and sat down on the plush mattress. Reaching out, he pressed a gentle hand against the blonde’s forehead. He was warm, but not feverish. A good sign. 

  Then, Minho grabbed the nearby water bottle he always kept at his bedside table. Uncapping it, he made to fit a hand beneath Felix’s head, cradling his neck and lifting him from the pillow just by a little bit. Fitting the rim of the bottle against his lips, he gently prodded them open for him to drink from. 

  For a few seconds, Felix’s eyes fluttered underneath his eyelids. And he allowed Minho to help him drink a few incremental sips of water. Until his lips were closed once more and his body was completely shutting down. Minho could feel the weight of him in his arm, as he slipped into a shadowy dreamland of liquor and drugs. 

  After that, Minho chose to sit by his side for a long while. Just watching over him in silence. Brushing delicate fingers through his blonde tresses and across his warm, freckled cheekbones. “I’m sorry,” he started, his voice breaking just a little bit as he watched the way Felix’s chest rose and fell with the shallow breaths of sleep. “I should’ve been there for you, no matter what… I shouldn’t have pushed you away so much. I’m sorry.” 

  He could feel the tears cascading down his cheeks then, chilling his skin as his shoulders shook from his quiet sobbing. Minho reached down and held onto one of Felix’s hands, interlocking their fingers and studying the way their palms fit together so fucking perfectly. 

  “I promise, I won’t make the same mistake again. I promise on my life I won’t, Felix. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you tonight, that I hadn’t stopped everything earlier…” Because if they hadn’t been on bad terms again, maybe they would’ve gone to that same club together. And then there wouldn’t have been any drugs or kidnappers involved. Maybe, Minho would've been in that stranger's position instead, running his tongue across Felix's skin and-

  As Minho stared on at Felix, he so badly wanted to get revenge for the younger man. To avenge the trauma he had just been through and catch the perpetrator— but Minho wasn’t foolish, and he knew that man from the bar wasn’t foolish either. He would never darken the doorstep of that nightclub, probably never come around those same parts of the city for fear of being caught. Even still, Minho would make sure he and Felix would give testimonies to the local police once they were both well enough to stand and think properly. 

  As he sat there on the bed beside Felix, he could feel the heaviness of exhaustion begin to wash over him. It had been a long night— a long week, for that matter. Plus, the alcohol running through his system was starting to make him feel lethargic and sleepy. Slowly, he bent down, leaning against Felix and resting his head gently on the younger’s chest. 

  Staring up at Felix’s angelic face that was completely slacked of all emotion, dreamland was quickly beginning to cloud his mind. Blurring the edges of the room, and bleaching all the color on Felix’s face. And just like that, he was falling asleep to the feeling of Felix’s warm hand and his heartbeat ringing out in Minho’s ear. 

─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───

  Minho didn’t know how many hours had passed— but he was awoken with a forceful shake to his shoulder. Eyes gradually opening, he was met with a frowning Chris. His dark brows were furrowed, his eyes scanning the length of Minho and Felix’s bodies. Minho's heart immediately dropped into the pit of his stomach at the displeased look on his best friend's face. Minho shot up from his space atop Felix, repositioning his shirt. 

  “What the fuck happened?” Is all Chris asked, brotherly instincts coming over him as he made to feel Felix’s forehead for any sort of temperature. 

  Staring up at Felix’s serene face, which was still completely relaxed from his deep slumber, Minho took in a sigh. He steeled himself for the outburst that was surely to follow from his confession. “He was drugged. I was at the bar at Midnight Horse, and before I knew it, this strange man who looked to be in his thirties was dragging Felix out of there. Thankfully, I managed to catch up with them in time and got Felix back.” 

  Minho heard a sharp intake of breath to his left, and that’s when he noticed his two other friends standing in the doorway of his room. Hyunjin had a hand over his mouth, as he rushed over to the other side of the bed and squeezed Felix’s arm. “Oh my god— is he gonna be okay? Maybe we should—”

  Changbin was beside Minho then, staring down at the scene before him. “If it’s a date rape drug, the side effects should fade within twelve hours. If he doesn’t wake up after, that’s when you’ll have a problem.” 

  The entire time, Chris was completely silent. He was just studying Felix’s form, eyes locked on his face as his fingers gently brushed through his soft blonde locks. Subtly, Minho had released his hand from Felix’s, hoping no one had noticed in the throng of their worry.

  “Chris… what do you wanna do?” Minho finally asked, staring up at his best friend and watching his mind blur a mile a minute as he thought of a plan. The emotions were clear on his face— anger, disappointment, but mostly… a loving kind of worry. 

  “I’m taking him to the ER,” Chris said in a deep voice, thumb brushing against Felix’s jaw. “There’s no way I’m taking any chances on his life. Here, help me get him up.” Changbin and Hyunjin made to lift Felix into Chris’ arms, the air in the room constricting with the severity of the situation. 

  It felt like all the breath was being pulled out of Minho’s lungs, as he helped fit Felix’s limp body into his best friend’s arms. Chris' brow was set into a furrowed line, his eyes dark and stormy. 

  “Do you want company?” Hyunjin asked, brushing a hand across the top of Felix’s head. Then his focus was flicking to Minho, and he gave the older man a silent kind of look. The kind that read— I know how tortuous this is for you right now, and I'm so sorry. 

  Chris offered Hyunjin a weak smile, “I’d love that, actually.” 

  “I’ll drive, then,” Changbin said in a gruff tone, as he pulled a set of keys out of his pocket. He led the group out of Minho’s bedroom. 

  Minho stopped in his tracks at the kitchen counter, watching all three of the men slipping on their coats and shoes. Chris turned to face him, raising a dark eyebrow, “Are you coming with?” 

  Minho found himself shaking his head in answer before his mind could even register what he wanted to say. “It’s been a long night,” his eyes flicked to the nearby kitchen clock, reading that it was well past two in the morning. “I’m still a little shaken from everything, so I think I should stay back.” 

  But he was lying. 

  It was all a bunch of filthy lies. 

  He wanted to do nothing but be the one to hold onto Felix, to walk him straight into that ER and demand someone help them. He wanted nothing more but to be by his bedside, as they listened to the doctor’s diagnosis and as Felix finally came to. Because Minho knew he would. He knew Felix would be okay. 

  But alas, he couldn’t. 

  He couldn’t do any of it— because everyone else was too close and special to him. And he especially didn’t want to ruin his friendship with Chris if it somehow got out about what Felix and he had done in the past. About all the sins against society they had committed in their youth with each other. 

  So instead, he held himself back. Leaning against the kitchen counter, he watched on the sidelines as Chris nodded in understanding and was quickly sliding out the front door. Hyunjin turned just as he was about to leave, giving Minho a gentle, comforting look. 

  It’s gonna be okay, he mouthed silently, waiting until Minho nodded in acknowledgment before he was shutting the front door behind him with a soft click. 

  Minho found himself sitting down on the living room couch soon after they left, sucking in a few deep breaths from all of the adrenaline that was still bleeding into his veins. 

  And only when he closed his eyes again and let his mind wander across all the events of the night, did he remember Jeongin’s face. And the way he had looked at Minho in the taxi that night, practically begging Minho to keep him updated because he wasn’t able to get close to Felix in that situation. Because Minho wouldn't allow it. 

  Without giving it another thought, he reached into his pants pocket and pulled out his phone with the crumbled piece of paper that held Jeongin’s number on it. He texted something short and simple. 

Today 

04:37

Got home, Felix is going to the hospital with his older brother, Chris. 

  Almost within an instant, Jeongin was typing out a reply. Like he had been waiting and sitting at his phone for the last few hours just expecting an update. 

That’s good. I’m glad he has someone like you in his life. 

Like you care— your cliche of friends is fucking deplorable. 

Easy for you to say that when you have no idea what we all went through in high school. Where were you when Felix was growing up? When he was being bullied relentlessly at school and in a toxic relationship? 

  Everything stopped for Minho after that. 

  The air in his lungs stopped circulating, his brain stopped running a mile a minute. 

  And all of the puzzle pieces clicked together. 

  All of the doubts and wonderings, 

  All the times he caught tiny glimpses of the real Felix— the one that was buried under all the liquor and glitz and sex, 

  Jeongin offered up the real version of the blonde male, just like that. 

What do you mean by a toxic relationship? 

  For a few minutes, there was complete radio silence on Jeongin’s end. And Minho knew that he was right— knew that he had no right to berate Felix’s friends and get mad at their lack of compassion and support when Minho had been out of Felix’s life for so long… when he had pushed him away and out of his presence for years on end.

I don’t see the point of sugar-coating things, and I know Felix looks up to you too much to ever tell you this shit in the first place, so it's for his own fucking good. 

Please, just fucking tell me. What happened to him in high school? Why did he change so dramatically from the last time I saw him in our childhood til now? 

  Then, Jeongin was typing again. 

The relationship he was in was— famous around school back in the day. Everyone knew about it and didn’t do anything to stop it. Not even his family knew, he tried to keep it a secret from everyone. Guess he met some dude at a diner, and they fell in love — or if you can even call it that when you’re fifteen and the other guy is thirty-two. 

I didn’t even know about it, til Felix came to me with a beat-up face and a bruised neck, and half his clothes missing one day. He was crying in my arms and begging me not to leave his side and when I finally got the truth out of him I wanted to fucking kill the monster that had hurt my best friend so much. The man had groomed him and shit, forced him to fall in love, then proceeded to do all kinds of crazy stuff with him- sex and whatnot. Would sometimes beat him up too. 

Felix never said it explicitly, but I knew that the guy had raped him. A lot. We got the police to investigate without his family knowing because Jisung’s dad was a police chief. Got that man locked up for a long time, and thank god for Seungmin who— 

  Minho couldn’t read anymore after that. Instead, he threw his phone across the floor and raced to the nearby bathroom. Throwing the door open, he fell to his knees, gripping the toilet seat and letting everything flow out. All the liquor and pain and sadness. 

  It felt like his heart was squeezing the life right out of him, racing like a crazed horse. His palms were so sweaty, that he found it hard to grip onto the porcelain toilet seat. And even after he felt like he had emptied himself of everything, he couldn’t stop. 

  Like his body was rejecting everything and forcing himself to get rid of it all.

  His stomach was constricting so much with all of the pain, but he wasn’t able to stop. 

  He couldn’t even see the toilet bowl in front of him, his eyes so clouded with the mist of tears. They left a mess on his cheeks, the sudden headache he was getting killing his temples. 

  Groomed. 

  Beaten. 

  Abused. 

  Raped. 

  The last of those things kept replaying over and over again in his mind, like a broken record that was stuck on the same track. 

  And he hadn’t known— he hadn’t known, this whole time. 

  He hadn’t thought to ask, hadn’t pondered on the idea of it... 

  Because no— how could it ever be? 

  Not cute, innocent little Lee Felix. 

  Not his Felix. 

  A version of Felix — the one that he knew during his childhood - flashed across the front of Minho’s mind then. All dark tresses, wide eyes, and a perpetual smile on his face. 

  So perfect, so unbroken, so ethereal and beautiful. 

  And all of that had been ripped away from him, by force and by hatred and by a fucking monster of a human. 

  But no, the man who took away everything wasn’t even human. Wasn’t even a man. He was a vile, cesspool. A viper hiding in plain sight, in the thick of a forest. 

  At the thought of the demon that had hurt Felix so much, Minho finally managed to stop himself from dry-heaving. Instead, he sat back and pressed his spine to the bathroom’s nearby wall. 

  Jeongin was right. 

  He hadn’t been there for Felix. 

  Through the worst time of his life, Minho was nowhere to be found. Even when Felix was going through hell and back every single day growing up into adulthood, Minho was a whisper on the horizon. Never to be found or contacted. 

  And even now that they were adults— he was still pulling away from Felix. Because of his stupid issues and his feelings about their entire relationship. 

  But everything made so much sense now… 

  The desperation, 

  The near begging, 

 The tears and cutting. 

  It was all a rebound. 

  Minho was Felix’s rebound. 

  And Minho had the sneaking suspicion that the whole reason Felix had showed up at the same university as him was to find Minho again. 

  To make that connection again, after so many years and after so much hurt and abuse. 

  And instead of reaching out a hand and helping Felix through the pain, instead of being his stronghold and comfort, he abandoned Felix. 

  Just like everyone else did in Felix’s life. 

  Minho’s head was pounding so much at that moment, that he could barely see or think anymore. The tears were fogging up his vision, as he shifted through the dorm and into his room again. Flopping down into his bed, he buried his face into his pillow. 

  The one Felix’s head had been lying on for the past few hours. 

  The one that held his scent now— of flowers and everything sweet and fruity. 

  Minho used it to muffle his cries, gripping ahold of the downy fabric as the violent sods wracked through his entire body. 

  He could feel his limbs giving up on him, as the weariness from all the emotions, thoughts and trauma began to wash over him. And he tried to fight it— tried to fight the sleep that he wanted so badly to evade, but he just… couldn’t. Like his body was shutting down, forcing him into sleep because it knew how badly he needed it. 

  And the last thing that crossed his mind, that came up into his vision, was Felix’s sketchbook… 

  Of the drawing on the other page Minho had studied that night, besides the portrait of the dancer- of him. 

  That human head, with the distressed colors and the dark, depressing aura… 

  It had been a self-portrait. 

  Of Felix. 

  The entire time, Minho had never realized. 

  And Minho wondered when he had drawn that— what time frame it was encapsulated in. 

  But at least, now he knew why Felix had drawn it. 

  Even so, knowing the why behind the drawing was almost worse than having glimpsed it in the first place. 

  It killed Minho so much inside, that the last thing he felt was his heart squeezing desperately in his chest before his body gave up on him and the darkness seeped into the corners of his brain. Creating a shadowy haze over everything, dreamland avoided him. Instead, he was met with bleak nothingness. 

─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───

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[lains-reality]

Hey! (This is pretty long if you don’t mind reading it.)

So I want to start by using my success story as an example: I had an appointment and I did SATS the night before. There wasn’t a thought In my mind I TRULY knew that I was not going to that appointment, and that morning I still felt that way, as I was getting ready to go. And basically when I got there they ended up being closed and I went home.

But the thing is now I’m starting to panick and worry especially because the new school year. I want so many things and I tell myself “ok tonight I’m gonna do the same thing I did that one night I successfully cancelled my appointment” but it’s just so frustrating because it’s like I’m not in the same mindset. It just feels like I’m forcing it, like I’m affirming from my body and not from self.

I’m just very lost because I find myself through the day identifying very heavily with my body and when I tell myself “this isnt you, you are self” and things of that nature I doubt it because I don’t FEEL it. It just feels like I’m talking to myself. And I saw the ‘do i want the desire or freedom’ post and it really meant something to me. Because my desire is to have all of these things for school and to have a happy family but freedom for me looks like no school and like living in a castle or something. But like even with freedom I still get to experience anything I imagine.

I’m sorry if that was a horrible explanation, and feedback? (Thank you in advance!)

"it just feels like i'm forcing it"

then stop. let yourself be frustrated. it's not a waste of time or unproductive to let yourself be frustrated - why put more worries onto yourself? just sit with the feelings, get them all out until you feel better, the feelings are coming up for you to release them.

you're trying to get yourself back into a mindset you had before. but it doesn't matter what the mind is doing, when you know who you are. there's no convincing to do. (also here, you're making the condition of the old mindset the only way that you can get something)

last night i felt weird. before, the body had anxiety problems and so last night my mind was like "do something, i dont like this!!" and i folded. i went onto yt to listen to my usual calming vid (eft tapping abt fear), but then i thought "no!! i don't wanna do this anymore, it was probably wind (as i burped earlier) i want to go towards love, not live in fear!" and so i went to a different eft tapping vid abt feeling love. and then i went bed lol

in that moment i remembered i am not the body, and i also asked myself what do i want to choose, love or fear?

you don't have to feel you are not the body, it's just the truth. if conviction/remembering isn't "working", another path is self inquiry.

ramana is like the specialist of self inquiry, its like his thing lol. i've read like a paragraph's worth of his teachings. but it was extremely helpful. i'll show you a little of my self inquiry.

mind = memories, thoughts, feelings. i cannot be a memory, wouldn't i be transported back to when when i remember one? i can see one through visualisation. its not now, so its generated again. i cannot be thoughts -> i can say 'stop walking' whilst walking. also how do you be a thought?? the mind is everything in the inner world so if i was born elsewhere, everything would be different in the mind. so its moulded by society, time, location etc. so even when the mind changes so many times, i'm still here. so i'm not it. i cannot be a feeling, i can feel it or recognise it. i am still here when i feel good or bad -> not the feelings. so who's the one recognising? i cannot be my name - its an identifier for the body.

the body tripped me up several times whilst questioning it:

the idea 'i am the body' leads to beauty standards, hatred, genetics, midlife crisis etc.

i saw that 'i am the body' is clearly not the greatest idea. but i couldn't answer why i wasn't it. until i remembered that the mind can affect the body:

the body has reactions (e.g. anxiety) to the mind & it's stories it wants to protect from. memories, feelings, thoughts all pop up and the body reacts to it. does that mean the body is a component of the mind? if it can affect it.

if you've read my "nondualism and manifestation" post then you'll see that idea there again. i also had my faith strengthened when 4dbarbie talked about astral projection in one of her posts. i totally forgot about ap! after days of confusion and slight frustration, i understood a little more and so i finally got to a point where i was like 'no more identifying as it!'

question everything. this doubting leads you to be able to ask whether there's something more than the body-mind, and allows you to accept more. and gives you the courage to just stop identifying as the body.

self inquiry for you

if you can be aware of images, feelings & thoughts all through visualization, memories, dreams, and the "real world", whats the difference?

what is the mind? what is it made up of?

are you the body? are you you're name?

notice how you say "my hand" or "my mind". is the body-mind something you own or are?

if there wasn't any mind to point stuff out and identify as it, would there be a world? would there be a body?

what is the difference between this character and your ideal character?

what if this character is only here because you believe you are it?

do you still exist in the absense of that thing? [e.g. no memories, do you still exist?]

what would you be doing if you weren't influenced by the reaction of likes and dislikes?

what happens to the body when you sleep?

reading

mindset

disbelieve

challenge all

the path of sri ramana (the part i want you to read is part 1, ch.4)

[thewayhavenchronicle]

Hey! First, I’m so sorry to hear abt the menstrual pain!! Periods are the worst especially when you’ve got really bad cramps :((

So for distractions! For the otp ask, if you’re answering the questions themselves how about 41-45 for Ruth x Ava? Or if you want something to expand into a fic, one of any of those!

I hope you feel better soon!

thank youuuu have. many ava/ruth fluff snippets ;w;

41. Which one would take their jacket it off and drape over the other one because they were visibly shivering?

Ruth nearly jumps out of her skin when something heavy and warm settles over her bare shoulders -- though she almost immediately feels silly as strong, familiar hands settle on her shoulders and then run down her arms, sending warmth washing over her in their wake.

Tired after the weird charity gala the Agency had talked them into attending, she leans back until her head is resting on Ava's shoulder.

Ava says nothing, arms settling around her with a soft contented sigh.

They'll have to leave eventually -- definitely have to say goodbye to the investors and the Council and whoever else she'd been introduced to tonight before she's truly off the hook -- but she doesn't care.

For now, they are both content to stand in the moonlight and watch it dance on the pond and fountain below them.

And that's enough.

42. What's their favorite type of weather to enjoy together? (getting snowed in together, watching thunderstorms, etc.)

Ruth loves the summer in Wayhaven.

It's a strange sentence to think, even to herself, as summers had always been the worst part of the year when she was growing up nearby. All that time having to find things to do to stay away from her home when her dad was home, all that time having to face the fact that she didn't really have friends -- it had been miserable.

Now, it's the best time of year for her to talk Ava into spending time with her, just the two of them.

And Ruth isn't sure she's ever happier than she is when she's on the open road with Ava, wind in her hair, casting adoring glances at Ava's beautiful profile.

They always drive to the same place -- a cliff overlooking the sea. It's more remote than the park they'd first gone to, so Ava is always so much more comfortable to sit close beside her, shoulders brushing with every breath they take. When the sun finally sets, they often stay a little longer, lying back in the grass and watching the stars and talking about... anything. Nothing. Everything.

The way Ava smiles when they're alone like that feels just like the summer sun on her skin -- sends that same warmth washing over her like a hot shower, until all she can feel is that twinge of joy and pride that comes with being able to make Ava smile, even a little.

...she's in far, far too deep to fight this now, but she can't find it in her to regret a single second of it.

43. Who would give their life for the other without a second thought?

Oh, they both would. This fact makes both of them very upset. Don't feel like writing the angst rn but IT'S COMING in my fic eventually.

44. Who would dance in the kitchen making dinner? Would the other join in or watch from the doorway?

Ruth nearly startles when Ava's arms slide around her waist, though she laughs as she tilts her head to give Ava access as she presses a line of kisses to Ruth's throat.

Ruth had been humming along to the music playing from her laptop as she cooked dinner, aware of the Commander in the next room keeping an eye out for her, but uncaring enough to actually change her plans for the night. They'd been getting closer recently, crossing that unspoken line between friends and.... something else more and more.

She's still not used to the amount of pleasure she gets from such simple, soft kisses as Ava rests her chin on Ruth's shoulder and begins to sway to the music.

"...you're so beautiful," murmurs her lover, nose brushing at the corner of her jaw. "I adore you completely."

Ruth shivers visibly in Ava's arms, making them both laugh.

"You buttering me up for something, Commanding Agent?" Ruth asks, but there's no malice in it, only a gentle tease that makes Ava chuckle.

"No," Ava says truthfully, swaying a little more meaningfully, a little more purposefully now. "I just wanted to be near you."

Ruth's heart squeezes painfully in her chest, but she smiles anyway, turning her head to press a kiss to Ava's cheek.

They don't say anything else for a long while, though eventually Ruth does move her meal off of the stove and they dance a little more formally. Ava's eyes are unbelievably soft as she twirls Ruth around the little kitchen in her tiny apartment and for a little while, nothing else in the world exists but the two of them and the hazy glow of contentment surrounding them.

45. Can they fall asleep without the other?

Ruth nearly shrieks when a pair of arms wrap around her in her sleep.

The stranger crawling into her bed pauses, pulling away a little and mumbling half-asleep apologies, and the familiar lilt of a soft British accent makes her relax again. Ava sinks into the mattress behind her, burying her face in the back of her neck, muscles heavy with tension that slowly seeps from her frame as she breathes in the smell of Ruth's skin.

"...alright?" Ruth asks after a moment, too sleepy to ask a full question, patting gently at Ava's hand settled on the mattress next to her stomach.

Ava sighs, curling around her a little more. "Bad dream. I'm fine now."

Ruth hums, and a distant part of her investigator mind does a few quick calculations. She knows vampires don't sleep much, but Ava's done this every few days for the past week or so now.

"Having a lot of bad dreams lately," she breathes.

She can feel Ava frown against the back of her neck as the arm around her waist tightens even more.

"...very observant of you, Detective," Ava mumbles at length, though there's a playfulness somewhere in her voice that makes Ruth snort.

Shifting so that she can lie on her back, she coaxes Ava to rest her head on her chest, slipping her fingers against the back of her neck and stroking gently as her other hand settles against Ava's upper arm, thumb lazily running back and forth against her skin where her sleeve has rolled up.

Ava melts into her and Ruth grins into the darkness. Sleep begins to tug at her again, but she mumbles with the last of her awareness, "I've got you. Sleep."

Whatever Ava mumbles in response is lost as Ruth drifts off again, though she thinks it might have been French.

...

"Je t'aime, mon cœur."

[hyunverse]

omfg i cannot imagine a life without fall. that is so tragic. the rory gilmore vibe is definitely there especially bc i live in nyc so you can really get the fall grasp yk ? YEA can we please talk about changbin in the samsung ad bc holy shit. he’s like. legit perfect. aren’t they all tho like isn’t that why we’re all here in the first place 🤭. i cant get enough of them

100% agree i can’t imagine having a s/o rn. tooooo much work and i’m just not mentally there yet yk 😭 the thought is a lot nicer than the reality of it

i can bet money that you would beat me and that i am far from a bowling prodigy 😔. i have no coordination whatsoever. i’m also extremely short with tiny hands and arms (me and felix are twins) so i’d look an absolute fool LMAO. and it is so cute we do the opposites at the same time but still can communicate like just little humans doing cute little human things on our little phones

cute minho pics 100% made my day better. his little pout i’m distraught <///3. this is my second day w an awful migraine idk what my deal is 💔. i hope your day was good tho and you get some good rest tonight love :)) i read some of your hyunjin stuff again before falling asleep last night and i swear i shed a tear. too much fluff for my sick heart hyunjin just makes me SOFT

- 🐈‍⬛

tragic innit 💔 i sound british ANYWAY. waa u live in nyc? that’s sickkkk. how’s life there like? i only ever see nyc people complain abt the rodents on the streets and random people tryna get u to listen to their mixtape 💀 i hope ure not. . . rodent infested? all jokes pls dont hate me </3 the seungmin kinnie in me popped out for a sec.

changbin’s biceps r so big it gives me the urge to sink my teef in them. go absolutely bonkers with it </3

during my last semester, my roommate had a boyfriend, and she would argue with her boyfriend pretty much everyday so it kind of made me not want one. because imagine finishing your assignments at 1am, and arguing with your boyfriend ‘til 4am? and then having to wake up at 6? i don’t think i can handle that. so many of my friends’ boyfriends ended up being a bit controlling too, not letting them go out and have fun with guy friends. (even with other girls around them!) i feel like at this age, i want the freedom to do anything i want, u get me? a boyfriend would definitely stop that.

it’s ok, i bowl funny too. i’m pretty sure the way i bowl the ball isn’t correct but we r all unique ‼️ who cares if im not swinging my arm right? LMAOO. i have long arms but my hands are tiny so i guess we’re matching at that too 😭 i love felix’s tiny hands. especially when they’re compared with hyune’s like. . . he got hyune looking like a whole gorilla 😟

u are my tiny silly little companion in my tiny silly little phone <3 i’m glad minho made u feel better, i hope your day is better today! i’m sorry to hear about your migraine, my love. have you taken painkillers? drink enough water and do take your meals on time or i will fly to nyc and do it for u. (this is a threat.) my day was so slow LMAO i did absolutely nothing! though i did receive exciting news — got a 4.0 gpa and into the dean’s list!! ‘m overjoyed!! spent the day laying as reward. (thats my excuse for being lazy) thank u for reading my fics hehe. comments like that make me wanna keep going :-) i wanna write a oneshot abt playing with his hair!!!

sending u warm hugs ^__^ with much love frm your rin <3

[motherfuckingbrad]

I’m pretty sure David took psychology or family psychology or something as a minor to his business degree in uni because he projects his childhood trauma into Ian and Poppy and kinda psychoanalyses others (most of it being bullshhht) kinda reminds me of Britta “as a licensed psychology major” Perry

Also def took a bunch of philosophy/sociology courses because 🌟 brene brown 🌟

ok YES DAVID AND BRITTA WOULD BE BFFS IM CALLING IT

omg now i NEED a fic where the entire mq gang meets the entire community gang because could you IMAGINE like

britta and david just psychoanalyze each other but neither is rlly listening to what the other says because they’re too focused on their own epiphanies so they just go on and on without ever actually coming to any conclusions and both feeling super satisfied about themselves

and troy and poppy would get along so well because they’re both immature as anything so they’d just play video games and eat candy in the basement and every once and a while troy would get mad that poppy was winning and ask how she knew so much and poppy would say “u know i made this entire game right?” and then troy would fangirl so hard because omfg she MADE THE GAME and can she make him an inspector spacetime game to play w abed or a kickpuncher game to beat jeff at or a levar burton reading rainbow game just for himself or-

and then obv jeff and ian would hang out but both would be too cool to actually get to know the other so they’d stand around all day trying to prove that they’re better than the other one and literally no one would give a single shit as they try to prove who’s taller than who and who wears sunglasses better or has better abs or has worse father trauma

(the dean would just follow them around and feed into it, telling each of them that the other still thinks they’re better because it means they’ll take their shirts off or try harder to convince the dean they’re better <3 and he’s never seen jeff jealous and vying for his attention before)

and then shirley would go hang out with sue because she would want a tour of the place and sue seems very nice but also has some sweetly worded insults/gossip about everyone in the office that shirley loves to hear and shirley would fill her in on all the drama with her study group and somehow michelle would eventually also be there and shirley and michelle and sue can all trade advice/experience on what it’s like to be a hardworking woman in business

and cw and pierce can be racist and out of touch together

and annie would float around because at first dana and rachel want to show her around and get to know her but annie catches sight of brad (mean official man in some position of authority so kind of her type) and flirts w him, which then leads jo to yell “BACK OFF HE HAS NO NEED FOR GOODY-TWO-SHOES GIRLS, HES A SHARK HE WILL RIP YOUR PERFECT LIP GLOSSED FACE APART” and then annie spends the rest of the afternoon showing jo how she can be a strong woman without yelling and threatening everyone all the time

abed films everything because it’s a crossover episode what else is he supposed to do

anyway i’m literally obsessed with this idea now thank you op i love you

[lizbotw]

I shall look for some icons in a couple days👀and when you get around to watching AOT we can pick 🥺😌😌 IT’S GONNA BE AWESOME AND I’m so glad you agreed on this 🥰 I hope you’re having the greatest day of your life Liz!

AJJDSJWJSJ I’M SO EXCITED and omg i’m actually finishing off episode 5 of aot rn!!! you’re right, you can’t really stop once you start 😭 i originally wanted to talk to you abt it after episode 1 but then you how there’s like part 1 and part 2? so i was like well i have to watch the next part before i can talk about it... and then i kept going (eren growing up tho 😳 HE WAS SO SMALL AND CUTE AT THE START AJSNSJAJ WHY IS HE TALL AND BEAUTIFUL NOW WHAT) and then i was like okay after episode 5 i’ll discuss it with you but suddenly we’re in the middle of more action like always so 😳 I’M NEVER GETTING A BREAK HERE

[getsojaded]

part i: non-refundable || calum hood

word count: 1.8k

warnings: swearing

a/n: weeeewww mini series in da works lfggg. i got this idea based of those tiktok’s where exes break up but they still go on their planned trip together bc they can’t do anything abt it hence the name of the series LOL hopefully this doesn’t turn into a shit show!! lmk ur thoughts xoxo

—

You’re casually scrolling on your laptop, looking through your old emails and clearing out any unimportant ones. You had a habit of signing up for one too many subscriptions, resulting in your email inbox constantly being clogged.

“Why did I even sign up for the Gymshark newsletter? I stopped going to the gym three months ago,” you sighed to yourself, earning a laugh from your roommate, Gabriella as you unsubscribe from the athleisure apparel website and delete, yet another email. You take a look at the email below the one you had just deleted, as the words Flight 1120 Confirmation caught your eye. You forget for a moment how this ended up in your inbox, but the memory almost instantly catches up to you and your breath hitches.

“No fucking way.” You say to yourself outloud, causing your roommate to look over at you. “What happened?” She asks concerningly, and you shift your laptop towards her, giving her a clear sight of the email you clicked on. “You forgot you’re going to Japan?” she asks, confusedly. “I forgot I’m going to Japan.” You copy her words. Her face is still laced with confusion, wondering what could be so bad about forgetting a trip you planned. “Sorry Y/N, I’m not picking up what you’re putting down.”

“I forgot I’m going to Japan with Calum.” You state, holding your head in your hands. “Oh. OH.” Gabriella then comes to the realization of how severe this situation is. “What are you going to do?”

“What the fuck am I supposed to do? I haven’t talked to him in like, 5 months! Do I just contact him out of nowhere and be like, ‘hey, I know we haven’t spoken since we broke up but is our Japan trip still on?’?” You’re now panicking, getting up from your seat and pacing around your shared living room. “Okay okay, let’s calm down for a moment. Maybe you still have time to talk to him about it, and refund the ticket. Let’s not get too worked up here,” Gabriella attempts to reassure you, moving your laptop closer to her and searching up the terms and conditions. “Here, refund and exchange inquiries.” She clicks on the link, and you lean over her shoulder, eyes grazing over the screen. “Okay, it says that you can refund your ticket if your scheduled flight is more than 4 weeks away. Let’s check when your flight is.” She switches tabs, going back to the email with your ticket and confirmation. “Scheduled flight is June 27th. What day is it?”

Your eyes dart over to the top right corner of your laptop. June 14th. “No fucking shot,” You groan in defeat, taking a seat beside your now, concerned roommate. “I have two weeks to bring this stupid trip up to him?!” You exclaim.

“Y/N.. I would do everything in my power to get you out of this if I could. However, the only way you’re going to deal with this is by talking to him. Is it going to be that hard? Did you guys end off that badly?” Gabriella asks you, and your mind shifts over to the last time you had seen your ex-boyfriend.

—

“You know I love you.” Calum states, taking a hit of his cigarette. It’s about 2 in the morning, and you two have been having a heavy conversation, to say the least. About the two of you, your relationship, and life itself. Tears have not fallen just yet, but you’d be lying if you said that you haven’t blinked back them multiple times tonight.

Calum’s not speaking much. You’re used to it. After being with him for 3 years, you’ve grown to appreciate how closed off he is about certain things. However, tonight is not one of these nights to hide your emotions.

Calum is a week away from heading off on the 5th 5SOS tour, and the day he arrives home, you’re off to Canada for a few months for a couple of business trips. This is a recurring event, only beginning to happen about a few months ago, where one leaves, and then when they come back, the other has to take off. You and Calum are both well aware of the situation that your careers have put you through, but neither of you have had the courage to speak up about it. Until tonight. Except, you had to be the one to bring it up.

“You know I love you too. It’s just.. we’re not aligning. You’re gone half the year because of touring and the moment you come back, I’m off on another business trip. How many times has this happened? And how many times have we not talked about it? We can’t keep ignoring the elephant in the room that’s been here for months, Cal.”

Calum’s head is in his hands, sighing at the complications of this conversation. He has a bad feeling about the outcome of your relationship by the end of the night, but tries his best to ignore it, despite the large pit in his stomach. “I’m not sure what you want me to do here, Y/N.” he replies bluntly, unable to put his thoughts into words.

You start to grow annoyed with the lack of response in his statements. “Can you at least try to say something helpful? It feels like I’m the only one trying to put effort into salvaging our relationship!” You exclaim, getting up from your seat and walking around, trying not to get too heated.

“I just fucking said that I don’t know what you want me to do! What fucking else do I say?!” Calum is now angry, harshly throwing his cigarette on the ground and putting it out with his shoe. “Want me to tell you ‘oh don’t worry baby, we’ll figure this out and we’ll be all sunshine and rainbows’? We can’t figure this out, Y/N. I think you know what I’m going to say.”

Calum regrets his words instantly, the moment he sees the pain planted onto his lover’s face. “Y/N, wait-” “I don’t wanna hear it, Calum.” She cuts him off, and his heart stops at the use of his full name – aside from tonight, he can’t recall the last time she’d call him that. “If that’s what you’d like to do, throw the last 3 years away without even trying to have a proper conversation about it, then so be it.” She angrily spits out, wiping the uncontrollable tears from her eyes. Y/N quickly gathers her keys and phone, and starts walking towards the front door. “It was nice knowing you, Calum. I’ll grab my shit when you leave.” Are the last words she says to her now ex-lover, slamming the door on her way out.

—

“Pretty fuckin’ badly,” you mumble, trying to ignore the pang in your chest after reflecting back on the last time the two of you had seen each other. “Gab, I’m fucked. I have no idea what to do.”

“You’ll figure it out, Y/N.” Gabriella takes notice of your distress, and pulls you in for a comforting hug. “I’m sure Calum doesn’t hate you, and is willing to have a civil conversation about this.” You pull away, with doubt written all over your face. “I don’t know about that one, Gab…” you trail off, zoning out for a minute, before an idea comes to your mind. Your eyes widen ever so slightly. “Wait, I’m going to call Luke.”

“Luke? Why Luke?”

“Maybe he can go on the trip with Calum instead of me,” you suggest, grabbing your phone and dialing his phone number.

3rd Person POV:

All four boys are currently at Michael’s house, enjoying their well deserved break from music. They’re currently on Michael’s Playstation, trying to beat each other in FIFA. The music in the background comes to an abrupt stop, causing Luke to get up and grab his phone, as he’s the one on aux. “Hold on one second, I’m getting a phone call.”

The other three pay no mind to it, continuing their game as Luke leaves the room for a brief moment. Just as he closes the door, all three boys can hear his faint voice say “Y/N, what the fuck, how have you been?”

Michael and Ashton turn towards Calum, who now has a confused look on his face. Michael pauses the game, as Ashton asks his two friends beside him, “Did I just hear what I think I heard?” Michael, with wide eyes, nods his head slowly and Calum’s expression hasn’t changed. He’s frozen in place, almost. Even the sound of her name still has such an effect on him.

“I wonder why she’s calling..” Michael trails off quietly, and Calum quickly shakes off the emotions he had just felt. “Unpause the game, it’s probably nothing.” Calum states nonchalantly, Michael following his friends’ words and continuing to play.

Luke doesn’t come back for another 10 minutes, and when he does, he walks out with concern written all over him. Michael feels like it’s a good time to pause their game once again, and when he does, Luke sits down in his previous spot and asks Calum, “Are you supposed to go on vacation with Y/N in two weeks?”

“What the fuck?”

“Bro.. what??”

Calum, this time, is now actually frozen in place with wide eyes. Completely forgetting about the trip you two had planned, he has no idea what to say. “Y-yeah, I am. I forgot about that,” he manages to get out. “Well, she just called me, saying that the tickets you two bought together are non-refundable now. She asked me if I wanted to go with you so that the ticket doesn’t go to waste, but I’m heading off to Vietnam with Sierra a couple days before.” Luke states, rubbing his chin.

Calum doesn’t know what to feel. How is he supposed to feel? He feels a bit upset that she contacted Luke before contacting him, but at the same time he’s relieved. He doesn’t think he’d be able to face her without any sort of warning beforehand. He’s wondering if you had forgotten about the trip as well, just like him. His heart rate is at least 120 beats per minute, and his thoughts are all over the place, and the first thing he is able to say is “Can either one of you come with me?”

Ashton and Michael look at each other, and Michael’s the one to speak up first. “Did you forget I’m going back to Australia in three days? What about you, Ash? Last hope.” Calum looks at Ashton, who has a disappointed look on his face. “Nah man, my family’s coming in next week.”

Calum groans in defeat, throwing his head back, closing his eyes. “Well fuck.” he states, causing the three other boys to eye each other with concern. “What are you gonna do, man?” Luke asks, causing Calum to shake his head.

“There’s only one thing to do.”

“Which is?”

“Call Y/N and figure this shit out ASAP.”

[poptod]

Hi, I hope ur having a great day! I’m rly enjoying ur writing and wanted to make a request! Could u write like a (kinda reverse) Cinderella inspired oneshot where Larry has allowed some of the human exhibits to go outside at night (with normal civilian clothes to blend in) just as long as they make it back before light. Ahkmenrah meets the reader and immediately catches feelings for them so he always goes to see them every other night but the reader gets suspicious when he’s always like “oh no it’s almost dawn I gotta leave!” then runs off dramatically (like Cinderella). But one night when he runs off they try chasing after him (like “hey wait I thought we were hitting it off🥺”) but loses him in the crowd but finds that he dropped his cool Egyptian bracelet or something else. Then the next night they’re asking everywhere if they knew who or where the bracelet belonged to and one person said it looked like it belonged in the museum so they go there and it’s like a whole Cinderella moment where Ahkmenrah comes down the steps in his whole gold Pharaoh getup. The reader is totally SHOOK but asks him if the bracelet belonged to him and ofc he’s like “yeah :)” And it’s just a fluffy ending. Hopefully that wasn’t too long and complicated of a request😅

notes: this has been in my inbox for... a year maybe? i'd apologize but i feel like that's inappropriate now for some reason. here it is lmao edit: no wait I do have to apologize, this isn't exactly the prompt because I didnt read it correctly (somehow, despite having it in my inbox for, again, a year) so theres a small change. sorry! hope you dont mind. they arent major changes.

also if ur worried abt the long request... this is a longer fic too lmao WC: 3.1k

+

On evenings and weekends Times Square was filled with people; native New Yorkers, tourists, shops, sellers, food carts, and pretty much every other sign of life, not limited to the occasional rat or raccoon. Sometimes that made it hard for you to commute, since Times Square stood at the direct intersection between your workplace and your apartment.

Tonight, Times Square itself was fighting against you, and packed humans like sardines within the free confines of the bright, commercial skyscrapers. Even going in a circle round the square would take forever, so the best solution––you decided––was to just walk straight through the crowd.

In the dark of the evening, giant, glowing billboards lit your way, acting as beacons telling you which direction to face. Passing conversation and bustling bodies tried their best to distract you, with their pushing hands and foreign words, but you kept your eye on the biggest screen; it was always to your left. Noodles and a rabbit awaited you at home, alongside the next episode of your show, and with that pleasant reminder you charged on.

"Wir mussen die anderen –"

"Quand reviendrons-nou –"

"But mom, she doesn't even –"

"Disini banyak sampah."

"Bakmak! şu elbiseye –"

So many voices.

Part of you wanted to know what languages they were speaking, but before you could really think about it––or center down on one of the languages––you knocked headfirst into another person walking the opposite direction, sending you both down to the floor in your previous haste. Your hand whipped up to your head as a jolt of pain rippled through your skull upon impact. You hissed out a sharp breath, pointedly feeling your tailbone against the cold cement and the carelessly shifting bodies of the crowd around you.

Looking up, you found a young man around your age sitting across from you, having ended up in the same position as you; legs splayed out on the ground, hand grasping the head. He was staring at you though, his eyes wide and shadowed by the figures around you. He tried to stammer out something as he stood, but before words could come out, he helped you to your feet, still clutching his head.

"I – I – I'm sorry, I didn't – I didn't see you there," he breathed out with a weak chuckle, his brow twisted in worry. He didn't move his hand from yours when you stood.

"Don't worry about it," you chuckled. "I didn't see you, either. Did I hurt you?"

"No more than I've accidentally hurt myself before," he said, earning a small laugh from you.

In return, a shy smile reached his face, and you got to watch as his eyes turned into a blue warmth in the billboard lights, framed perfectly above dark, freckled cheeks and soft lips.

"My name's (Y/N)," you managed to say, staring unblinking at the perfect man before you.

"I am..." he paused for far longer than you'd ever heard someone pause when telling their name, "... Teddy."

He didn't look like he was quite sure.

"Are you sure you're alright?" You asked, raising a brow.

"Yes, I just.. it's... been a long time," he said in a quieter voice, "since I've seen someone.. like you."

You paused. Was he commenting on your skin tone or something? Your confusion––or perhaps your sudden discomfort––must've been obvious, because he quickly backpedalled to explain himself better.

"I mean – someone as beautiful as you," he sighed, scanning your expression as it lightened into pleasant surprise.

This man was a blessing in a dirty grey sweatshirt and jeans. It had been a while for you, too––a while since you'd met anyone new, since you'd had a genuine interaction and connection with someone. Excitement thrummed through you at the thought of the possible realities that could stem from this moment.

Alas, too good to be true. Someone yelled something above the crowd, and the young man's eyes darted up and away from you.

"Shit," he hissed, his gaze flickering from you to someone in the distance. "I have to – I have to go."

But he hesitated to leave. Only for a moment, but a hesitation nonetheless, letting his hand linger in yours for longer than strictly necessary. Again his eyes settled on you.

"I will never be sorry enough for this, but you are so beautiful," he blurted out in sincerity, his cool gaze drowned in a deep sorrow before he darted off into the crowd.

You tried your best to hold on, but all you caught was the thick bracelet round his wrist, and that pulled easily off as he disappeared. A sudden and sinking disappointment fell like an anvil in your chest. No one but a rabbit awaited you at home and you would never see that man again. You would never be sorry enough. He was so beautiful. 8 million people in New York City, thousands upon thousands crowded into 1,000 square feet, and you would never see him again.

Shit.

It was then, staring off into the crowd, that you remembered something heavy was in your hand. His bracelet remained with you, and in a split second you had a new mission. This wasn't personal anymore––it was manners. Clearly he needed this bracelet back no matter what, so you needed to find him. You didn't stop to scan the bracelet or anything––nor deduce that it was made of pure gold and carved with hieroglyphs––before you decided upon your new mission. Clearly this bracelet meant the world to him, and it was your duty as a good citizen to give it back. Clearly.

Not an excuse to see him again, at all.

You tried to run back through the crowd in the direction you came, but by the time you made it to the other side, he was gone. Different streets led in different directions and different blocks and it would be impossible to say which direction he'd taken.

Your search wouldn't end there, oh no; you would continue this.

After you got home and finally had dinner at 11 in the evening.

In the morning, in the half hour you had to yourself before work, you scanned the bracelet as you ate breakfast. Your sleepy mind could identify the Egyptian style and the genuine feel of the material, but you weren't sure what to make of it. Perhaps the man was a collector, or perhaps it was a family heirloom, or perhaps even a stolen artifact.

You bit into your lip, toying with it as you contemplated what in the hell you could do.

Maybe the internet might know something, but what if you ended up in the possession of a stolen artifact? If you posted a picture, would the police––no, wait the FBI––find out and arrest you with no evidence?

No, you decided. Most certainly not. Regardless you decided to keep it to yourself for a little while and do some quieter sleuthing.

To your immense delight, you managed to get off work early, and soon headed back home down your usual route. Again you crossed Times Square, and you found yourself helpless to the hope of seeing the man again. Your eyes scanned the crowd to no avail.

Somehow, your failure only propelled you further to continue your search. Your first idea was to check stores online; maybe he was just interested in Egyptian history and bought something for the novelty, but nothing online matched the design. Museum archives offered little until you ventured to wonder if the Natural History museum had an Egyptian exhibit. The Metropolitan Museum was your first guess, since they had an extensive archive of Egyptian artifacts, and the Natural Museum your last, since the last time you went there were no mentions of Egypt or the Middle East.

Yet here you were, staring at the newly re-released exhibit of the Museum of Natural History, and finding the exact image of the bracelet in your hand. A pair of them glowed on the screen.

Was it too late in the evening to try and return it now? The museum closed pretty early, these days, though you supposed they'd probably make an exception for a possibly stolen object.

The tiny clock on your screen glowed a faint white, displaying a time of 19:40. Not too late to go out, you decided, especially since you didn't have work tomorrow.

Pulling on gloves, a scarf, and a thick jacket, you left your home and headed on your way to the museum. It was a short train-ride away, but the whole time you were clutching onto the bracelet hidden in your pocket, terrified of being discovered and terrified of losing it. In every stranger's face you found a suspect, as well as the tingling hope of happening to see the man again.

He seemed like he'd be a good hugger, when you first saw him. His grey sweatshirt was a little large on him, and he had a hint of chub, which would make him a wonderful, soft pillow.

You shut your eyes and tried to erase the image from your mind.

Despite the lights glowing from within the tall museum windows, the front doors were locked, and shades were drawn that prevented you from looking inside. You sighed, the breath shaking through your empty chest. You had been expecting this, but you hadn't thought of what to do after it happened––once the doors were locked, how could you talk to anyone if they were all inside or at home for the night?

Well, the lights were still on, which meant it was likely someone was still there. You reasoned that if someone was inside, it would be illegal to lock them inside in case of an emergency, so there had to be an open door somewhere.

There were a few alternative exits and entrances scattered throughout the complex, but none worked until you found the delivery entrance. Here, giant trucks would back into the museum, bringing and taking new exhibits. Fresh footprints imprinted themselves in the mud surrounding the driveway.

God... damn it, you thought, your brain fighting turmoil at the idea of committing a crime. Was it really a crime? Would you be caught if it was? Would you be condemned even if it wasn't? What were you hoping to find here?

Some sort of answer. Part of you realized this wasn't just about the mysterious man anymore––it was about stolen artifacts and ancient things. In a way, you were doing your duty in returning something that might've been valuable to historians and archaeologists.

What you found instead––or heard, rather––was music distantly playing in one of the many rooms of the museum. You very nearly got lost several times, but eventually made your way to the museum entrance you first tried to enter.

The first thing you noticed wasn't the music genre, nor the volume, nor the bright, warm lights––what you saw were people both inhuman and uncannily alive, and animals ranging from the Cenozoic era and into the Paleogene and occupying environments all over the world. You could hardly believe what was in front of you, and for several minutes you stared with wide eyes, convinced you'd been slipped something in your latest drink.

Standing and gawking in the corridor eventually gained the attention of a nightguard, who jogged over once he spotted you.

"Hey," he said, slowing down as he approached through the crowd. His voice was somewhat familiar, but you couldn't place it at the time. "What are you doing here? Museum's closed, you're not supposed to be here."

"What... the fuck," you whispered, still staring past his shoulder to an ostrich trying to play soccer with... was that Christopher Columbus in bronze?

"Hey!" He raised his voice and snapped his fingers in front of your face, finally catching your attention. "What's up? Why are you here?"

"I, uh.." your sweaty hands clutched your bag, "I met a.. I met someone, and they – they dropped this."

You fumbled to grab the bracelet, pulling it out and presenting it with a firm grip to the nightguard. His brow furrowed.

"I couldn't find any information about it online, but it looked kinda similar to one of your exhibits here."

"Yeah, I..." He stared at the bracelet in your hand. "I think I know where that belongs."

How this nightguard managed to remain calm in the chaos surrounding you was astounding in itself, but you quickly and correctly surmised that he was used to this. The sudden appearance of magic in your life was alarming, to say the least, but somehow it paled in comparison to what happened next.

"How did you say you got this again?" The nightguard tried to ask, but lights reflecting into your eye drew your gaze away and towards whatever chandelier was glinting at you.

You squinted through the glamour, and at long last you finally found the mysterious man.

You never thought you'd find ancient Egyptian fashion attractive, but here you were, comparing his ratty sweatshirt to a cape and collar of gold, a serpent crown that shone bright in the museum lights, and finding you liked this version more. There was a regality he'd tossed aside when you first met him––now it held his shoulders up, gave his jaw and eyes a keenness you could see from across the room. His tanned hand reached out to the stair's railing, revealing a bare wrist that didn't match the other hand's bracelet.

In the crowd at Times Square and the crowd in the museum he could find you easily. His eyes zipped across the room and immediately you filled his mind; a recollection of memories, a remembrance of fantasies, and a reminder of his wishes to see you again.

He smiled. You saw none of the tumultuous thoughts and only received a wide but friendly smile, growing as you both wound around the exhibits to reach each other.

When you came face to face with him, though, you were at a loss of words, and stared at him for a good moment before you could speak.

"I think I have something of yours," you said quietly.

"Yes," he said with a nod, "you have my heart and I'd like it back."

Your eyes widened, and a burning blush instantaneously filled your cheeks.

"I meant your bracelet, sugar," you mumbled red-faced, shaking your head and hiding your face in one hand while the other presented the bracelet.

"I know," he chuckled softly, and pushed the bracelet aside in favor of taking your hands, pulling you closer to him.

"I gather your name isn't Teddy?" You asked.

"No. Name of a friend," he said, gesturing behind you with his eyes.

You checked and found the wax statue of Theodore Roosevelt you first saw as a child, only this time he was talking. To the nightguard. Of course. When your gaze returned to the man before you, he answered the question you didn't ask.

"My real name is Ahkmenrah. I was once Pharaoh presiding over all of Egypt. Now, I am a common man. I hope..." he watched intently as he intertwined his fingers with yours, reluctant to meet your eye, "... that seeing both these sides of me.. has not tarnished your image of me."

"Things like that don't matter to me," you chuckled. "But why did you run?"

He scoffed softly, rolling his eyes.

"Larry keeps a short leash on us all when he lets us outside the museum. He thinks we ought to interact with modern people as little as possible," he grumbled, glancing to the nightguard behind you. His tone grew softer as he spoke again. "I'm glad I ran into you. Even if it was a little painful."

You giggled as you remembered the headache you got from the impact.

"So am I."

"And... I meant what I said."

You gave him a questioning look, to which he replied with, "I'm sorry I left you there with no truth about me, no answer. And you are truly beautiful."

A deep yearning emanated from his gaze, heavy with the words he wouldn't yet say, and the anticipation to hear your reply. You didn't really understand why he found you attractive to this degree––he was a Pharaoh, and you imagined he was used to a level of beauty that could reign over countries of old.

You weren't like that.

"I'm not so sure about that," you chuckled sheepishly, "but thank you."

You always answered compliments so quietly; it annoyed your mother, but Ahkmenrah didn't seem to mind past assuring that you knew he meant it.

For the rest of the evening he danced with you to the music that lived within the museum's entrance, and reintroduced you to many of the exhibits, including his own. Seeing distant childhood memories and fantasies brought to fruition had its effect on you; not dissimilar to wine, intoxicating and thrilling to its core. Or maybe it was his hand in yours, thousands of years old and with it the accompanying wisdom, with which he chose you out of millions. He showered you in affections and twirled you any chance the music would give, just to watch you grin and giggle. It was as though he was trying to win you over, as though you weren't already enchanted, as if you weren't hanging on to his every word.

Eventually you got his explanation––a reason behind the magic, and why he couldn't leave in the daytime. And, eventually, the morning came, bringing the light of the sun just barely peeking over the skyscrapers.

"Come see me tomorrow night," Ahkmenrah asked, holding your hands as you stood by the door, your jacket and bag on your shoulders. "Please?"

"I don't know if I can," you said, already wringing your heart at the words. The feeling only worsened when you saw how his expression fell. "I have a lot of work to do for the next few days and I can't just go without sleep."

"I understand," he said quietly. "Please just.. come when you can."

"Of course."

When you arrived back at home, your apartment seemed more empty than it had ever been, despite the fact that nothing changed. Your rabbit was still waiting for you and there were still noodles in your fridge to be eaten.

As you dropped your bag, you heard a distinct clunking that sounded unfamiliar. It made you pause, and as you knelt to dig through your bag, you found the same Egyptian bracelet you tried to return to Ahk. Alongside it was a note.

Just a little insurance. Want to make sure I see you again.

You snorted. As if you could last more than a week without seeing him next.

[littletxt]

Hii it's 🍰 here ! I'm glad to see that you're back and taking on requests again ! Also sorry for not replying, I ended up having pasta that day hehe. I hope you don't take on too many requests at once though, keep some time for yourself <3 anyways head full of soft caregiver huening kai atm (you should know why.... all these Kai talks got my head thinking only abt him ;-;) imagine how sweet he would be !! And all the plushies he'd buy you omg <//3 have you got any soft thoughts for today? - 🍰

Aaa ilysm 🍰 anonie 🥺

I know you know my head is always full of Hyuka <333 Lunar new year Kai!! T_T (but actually head’s a little empty because I’m working on a Beomgyu request so I hope this is alright😵‍💫)

💚🐧💚🐧💚🐧💚🐧💚🐧💚🐧💚🐧💚🐧💚🐧

🐧💚🐧💚🐧💚🐧💚🐧💚🐧💚🐧💚🐧💚🐧💚

I’ve been thinking…

💚🍰💚🍰💚

Daddy Kai feeding you your favorite dessert and every so often he’d be teasing and stealing bites >:( just because he’s all soft and sweet doesn’t mean he doesn’t like to play with you hehe…

He’d be doing his best not to giggle at how cute you’d be grumping and pouting to yourself, him having stolen a bite of your dessert. And just to further the babie grumps he’d definitely “accidentally” get a little on your nose.

“Oh no! My baby is so messy!” As if it wasn’t his fault 🙄 <333

💚🛁💚🛁💚

Leading to bath time!! He probably could have just wiped your face off, but how could he miss a chance to play with you and your toys during bath time?? Your giggles are music to his ears. More bubbles?? Obviously!!

Daddy will be doing extra laundry tonight because the floor had to be covered in all of the towels after the water fight you most definitely get into. (50/50 chance he started it)

💚🧸💚🧸💚

As for plushies?? You’re probably gonna need a whole room just for plushies! You both love plushies so they’re gonna be everywhere. Ten in the living room, a ceiling net full of them, where’d the bed go?? I only see stuffies 😵‍💫!! Every time he sees a plushie of your favorite animal, or one that reminds him of you, you get another little friend to name. And we’ve already gone over this, Daddy would never forget a plushie’s name, not if you had 100, not if you had 1,000.

🧸End note: as much as Kai is my #1 Daddy, this didn’t come as easy as normal 😅 lots of little Beomie thoughts thanks to 🌙 anonie💕

🧸Masterlist🧸

[cherryyharryy]

angst to fluff where y/n finds out she was originally just supposed to be a rebound type thing after he broke up with someone like idk something like he broke up with someone on the european leg of tour and she was supposed just be with him until he went on another leg but then he started to love her and brings her on the rest of tour with him and she finds out abt the rebound thing after the last show of tour where everyones drunk and celebrating and one person lets it slip

I tweaked it just a bit...hope that's ok:)

WC: 3.5K

****

“You look beautiful.”

I skim my nose across Harry’s cheek, his chin resting on my shoulder, and hum against stubble that wasn’t there this morning. “You’ve said that five times tonight.”

“And?” He slips around to face me.

His suit is a deep maroon, probably black if you’re far away, probably purple if you’ve had too much champagne. His chest expands when I slide my hand down.

“Love this dress.” He takes my hand off and pulls me closer, pressing a kiss to my head.

“You two forget where you’re at?” Another foreign voice surrounds us, well, foreign to me.

“Fucker,” Harry says to the man. They pat each other’s backs as the guy walks away. “Tyler Johnson.”

“Oh.”

“He worked with me on the last album.”

“Okay.”

It’s like the fifteenth person that I’ve been introduced to tonight, all of whom pass by with quick hellos, inside jokes with Harry, and little interest in me. The fast paced world of the rich and famous doesn’t slow down, even for charity.

“Harry, so glad you could make it.” Another voice, another man. This one lingers, long enough to receive my name, and offer a cliche compliment about my patience to put up with this beautiful bastard on my arm.

I thank him with the smile I’ve learned to speak through. These celebrities never stop smiling. Never stop posing. Never stop.

Then he’s gone too, and Harry’s whispering yet another name in my ear, of which I’ll forget seconds later because these people ultimately mean nothing to me. They all seem to pass through each other’s lives whenever convenience allows, playing house and acting like grown ups who get the privilege of not truly growing up.

I feel like the Gucci dress Harry had tailored to my body doesn’t fit. My posture sucks. I’m too scared to eat any of the finger foods being carried on silver platters through the hall. I haven’t learned how to smile through food I don’t like or not make a mess or take small enough bites. I swear, not one glass of champagne has any lipstick on it. They’re like magic.

I look at Harry. He’s stepped away to converse with a face that I do know. He and Jeff speak animatedly, Harry’s arms gesturing to whatever story he’s telling. I step over to one of the dressed tables and place what little weight I can onto the chair, needing to cling to something. When I look back up I smile, the two of them now laughing, and probably a little too loud for this charity auction.

“Y/n...right?”

I whip around, a man I’ve seen in pictures on Harry’s phone holds out his hand.

I straighten my back and accept his greeting. “Yes.”

“Finally we meet!” He catches my confusion and chuckles. “I produced Harry’s last album.”

Something clicks in my head, and he’s suddenly more familiar. “Oh! I knew that.”

Tom Hull...Kid Harpoon I process just as he introduces his name.

“I—”

An arm slipping around my waist stunts my question, Harry tipping back a red drink with his free hand while the other squeezes my hip. “Just tell this one to leave you alone,” he jabs.

Tom rolls his eyes, patting the breast of his green suit to look for something, only to show off his middle finger.

“Can’t believe the two of you haven’t met,” Harry says.

“I know, I guess we just missed each other.” Tom nods to me. “Heard you went to quite a few shows.”

“As many as I could.”

An uneasy sting travels down my spine. I did go to many shows, practically following Harry around his entire tour...all on his dime. Lord knows the man can afford it, but I still felt weird about him dishing out thousands of dollars to add me to each plane ride.

“Well I’m happy to see you two kids together,” Tom jokes, patting Harry on his back. “I’ve told him he needs to date women who will fuck him up. That’s where the songs are.”

He saunters off like he did not just say that. No. Absolutely not.

My face burns and it hurts to turn my head, but I still manage to narrow my eyes at Harry.

“Do you want another drink?”

I wait. I give him more than enough seconds to explain what the hell that was. But he’s clueless—ignorant.

“No. I do not.”

***

I do not bother taking my heels off in the car. My plan is to storm into our hotel room the second we park. Possibly locking Harry out...haven’t decided on that part yet.

The vague chit chat he makes with the driver stirs my nerves. It shouldn’t make me angry, and it’s not so much the act as it is his demeanor. He’s too cheery right now and it’s pissing me off.

“Okay,” he grabs my attention from Los Angeles flying past my window, the partition rolling up to leave us completely alone in the back seat. “What’s wrong?”

I bite my tongue, literally. “Nothing.”

“You seemed...irritated.”

“Did I?”

“Y/n.”

I turn to face him, inhaling sharply to calm my coming words. “Why are you with me?”

His face pales, and not a muscle moves. He just stares at me until he finally blinks and starts jerking his jaw around. “What are you talkin’ about?”

I roll my eyes. “The fact that you don’t know, bothers me even more.” I sigh, fighting back tears because I am determined not to cry in front of him. “Tom said that you should date people that fuck you up.”

“O—oh. That’s all?”

I squint, curling my lip. “What do you mean, that’s all? Is that not enough for you? Because that was a lot for me to hear tonight.”

“Baby, he was just messing around.”

I don’t budge.

“Really, it’s nothin’ to think about.” He tucks my hair behind my ear, trailing his hand down to cup my jaw. “Promise. It’s just like when people told you that you could do better than me, or insult me to compliment you.” He shrugs. “It’s just party talk.”

I process his words, supposing he’s not wrong. He did receive quite a few insults in lieu of my praise tonight. Maybe I was just on edge because of the setting; being surrounded by the rich and famous while I struggle to pay my rent each month isn’t exactly grounds for positive thinking.

“Okay, I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to apologize for.” He leans over to kiss me, stroking my face as his lips skim over mine. “Did I tell you how stunning you look tonight?”

***

It’s funny how your brain works. How emotions swoop in and corral your thoughts, like a salesman who pretends to care about you so they can get what they want. My mind was desperate for relief, from hearing Tom’s nervy comment, and I naively allowed Harry to take what he needed in that moment.

Something’s not quite right. I don’t know what it is, but I can feel it.

I’ve been mulling over Harry’s words in my head all weekend, playing them on repeat, hoping they’ll start to make sense, but if anything their value keeps dropping. What worries me the most, is that I don’t know whether he’s trying to protect me or himself. I don’t know if one is any better than the other.

It’s golden hour when we pull up to the beach. I can hear the music before I even open the car door; a volleyball shoots up over the rows of bushes hiding the party, disappearing and popping back up a moment later.

I don’t really want to be here, but I also don’t want to be the girlfriend who won’t support their boyfriend.

“Ready?” Harry asks, and I nod.

The closer we walk, the clearer the music becomes. Harry’s voice takes over the private beach, and I wonder if they’re playing his entire album or just Golden on repeat.

A good bit of the people drinking and chatting I recognize form the event the other night, but there are still plenty of new faces. I take some fruity drink that was offered to me and down half of it before my feet hit sand.

And so the routine continues. I’m introduced to someone, they compliment me, laugh with Harry, congratulate him on pretty much everything he’s ever done, and then repeat with a new face. I do manage to find Sarah at one point after I’ve detached myself from Harry, and the two of us head for the water.

“Are you feeling okay?” Sarah asks once our toes are wet.

I hold my breath and count to five, finishing whatever the hell I’m drinking before I can answer her. “I’m great.”

“Harry said you weren’t doing too well after the auction?”

“Yes, Harry does a lot of talking with people when I’m not around.”

“Alright, spill it,” Sarah says.

I trace the rim of my glass, flicking my eyes over my shoulder to make sure we’re far away from the party. “It’s stupid, really, I’m just a little...I don’t know...Tom said something the other night that rubbed me the wrong way. And Harry doesn’t seem to care.”

“What did he say?”

“Just something about how Harry needs to have relationships with people who will fuck him up.”

“Ooh,” she nods, seemingly well versed in the statement. “Yeah that’s an Iggy Pop quote. Tom mentioned it in Rolling Stone when he was interviewed.” She sips her drink, eyes growing small over the rim. “It was just a cheap line of advice he gave Harry after he was torn up after his last breakup.”

“Wait, so he actually did say that before? Like before the other night?”

Sarah drifts her eyes up in thought, nodding. “Um hm. After him and Camille broke things off.” She shrugs, and gestures to the party exploding on the beach behind us. “Fine Line.”

I have no idea what I’m feeling. No clue what is coursing through my veins, but it’s not blood anymore. The corners of my jaw tingle until my face starts going numb, my breathing shallow and chest tight.

“You okay?”

“I uh, I gotta go.”

Sarah calls after me but I let my name die in the breeze as I march back to the crowd. It’s nearly dark now, and finding Harry among all his people will take forever. I try to look for him, but I’m so distraught I can’t concentrate long enough to make out faces. I give up and head back to his car, only to find it’s locked. The asphalt is warm on my legs as I lower down to the ground, careless to the dirt I’m getting on my clothes and the scratches on my skin.

I’m not in this position for long. Not long enough, at least. Harry rounds the corner of the bushes, speeding up when he sees me.

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

He moves to sit down beside me, but I jump up before he can.

“You’re a fucking liar.”

“Whoa! What!? What’s gotten into you lately?”

“I told you! What Tom said the other night!” I’m yelling, too loud for public, I know. But a small part of me wants someone to hear. I want to disrupt the bubble Harry lives in.

“And I told you that it was just nonsense.”

“And that’s why you’re a liar! Sarah just told me, that he said that to you after you and Camille broke up.”

“Okay...and?”

I inhale as deep as I can. It makes me dizzy, adds to my headache. “And, what the fuck am I supposed to do with that? With the knowledge that the only reason you’re even with me, is because I’m gonna fuck you up so bad you’ll get songs out of it?

“Y/n,” he pinches the bridge of his nose, “you’re taking this waaay too literally. Trust me.”

“You’re not in a position right now where I even want to trust you.”

“This has gotten completely out of control. I cannot believe you’re this upset over something so stupid.”

“Right there, Harry!” I point at him. “You keep dismissing how I feel! You don’t even care that this upsets me! That I feel like I need to reevaluate our entire relationship!”

“What is there to evaluate!? I haven’t even done anything! You’re blowing up about something that someone else said!”

“But you listened to him!”

“What,” he shrugs, “what do you want?”

“I don’t know what I want, Harry. I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Do what?” He pauses, swallowing. “Us?”

I roll my eyes. “Yes, us. I can’t be with you if—if you’re just waiting around for me to ruin you emotionally.”

“You’re seriously gonna let someone else’s words do this to us? You’d break up with me because of something another person said?”

“Harry, if I break up with you it’s gonna be because of what you’ve done. I don’t care that he said it, I care that you agree to it. And quite frankly, it’s pretty insulting to Camille. You spent a part of your life with that girl, and you just capitalize off of it. I’m not gonna let you do that to me.”

“I’m not capitalizing off of anyone! What the hell am I supposed to write my songs about? I’m just supposed to not date then?”

“It’s the fact that you sought out a relationship in order to fuel your writing.”

“No, y/n, that’s not what I did.” He narrows his eyes at me, and even in the dark I can see his anger. “I sought you out because I was devastated after me and her broke up. You were only supposed to be a rebound.”

I feel like the wind’s been knocked out of me. The music overhead blurs into noise scraping my eardrum, my vision grows weak and foggy. He wanted to hurt me, and he did.

“I expect a thank you when you release your next album.” I spin on my heel and head towards the main road, yanking my phone from my pocket to call an uber. For the second time tonight, my name trails behind me in the wind. I can hear Harry’s steps pick up, and as fast as I walk, he still catches me.

“Y/n, please, let’s go back to the hotel. You can hate me and not talk to me, but please don’t leave.”

I ignore him, trying to set up my ride. “Where the hell are we?”

He glances at my phone, and I can tell he considers keeping the answer to himself, so he can keep me to himself. He drops his voice, much weaker than before. “Carbon Beach. Canyon road.”

Ten minutes.

“Y/n—”

“I am not interested in discussing this with you.”

“I’m so sorry. I—I was mad and was just trying to win the argument. Whichever way I could.”

“Congratulations on your win.”

“Y/n, please, honey. I don’t want to lose you.” He drags his hands down his face, keeping his palms dug into his eyes. When he lets them drop, there are tears spilling down his cheeks. “I can’t lie and say you weren’t, but yes you were a rebound for me, but that went away. Literally weeks after we started dating. I care about you so much. I wouldn’t drag you to every show and event I have if I didn’t. I’m so proud to call you mine. The last thing you are to me is—is just grounds for my writing.”

I stare out across the road. A jeep speeds by and the gush of wind it brings sends chills down my arms.

“Harry, I just...it’s a lot. You’re a lot. Your life is a lot.” I sigh and slowly turn to face him. “It feels like the significance of us being in each other’s lives are so different.”

He kicks a rock across the road, dust flying up around us. “Fuck. Y/n I’m begging—”

“They’re here.” I nod to the headlights approaching us.

“Baby, please.”

“I think I need to be alone right now.” I get in the backseat. “Enjoy your party.”

***

I text him when I’m back at the hotel, having nowhere else to go. I didn’t think my plan of leaving through, because he’ll come back here before the night’s over. But I’m hoping he’ll stay away for a bit, long enough for me to process everything at least.

Deep down I know there’s not as much to the comment as I thought. And Harry’s not that type of guy. But the lack of concern over my feelings...the fact that I was just used as a warm body while he got over Camille...that’s what hurts the most.

There’s a fine line between being sorry because you’ve been called out, and truly being sorry. How sorry can he be when he got what he wanted? Even if I’m not what he envisioned past a few quick fucks, he still comes out on top happy.

I feel like the lifestyle these people live is embedded with secret codes, all of which I’m not wired to pick up on. The money, the mistakes, the adoration... Everything is a lot, and playing catch up is nearly impossible.

I don’t get the alone time I’d wished for. There are curses and clicks of the doorknob right before Harry comes in. He stands at the entrance, staring at me on the lounge chair like he’s unsure if I’m real.

“Wasn’t sure you’d come back here.”

“Where else can I go?” I nod to his phone in his hand. “I texted you.”

“I was driving.”

I sigh, flinching when he turns the lights on. “I know you wanna talk, but I don’t even know what to say.”

“You don’t have to,” he says, dropping his keys on a table to come sit beside me. “I’ll talk though.” He inhales, holding his breath for a second before forcing the air out. “I know that me saying I’m sorry means shit to you right now. And to be honest, it probably is coming from me...in a way. You’re right about everything. And whatever you’re feeling, once you figure that out, you’re valid about that too.”

“How would you feel if you were only meant to be temporary in my life? You never mentioned why you were interested in me in the beginning. And no, I never would have gone out with you had I known. I would never want to be someone’s rebound. There’s just something sneaky about that.”

His head drops into his hands, and his shoulders shake right before I hear him cry. “I know, I—I get so caught up in myself sometimes. I’m such a fucking prick.” When he looks up, his eyes are burnt red, glassy and defeated. “I don’t deserve you, and I really don’t deserve anyone.”

“Harry,” I chastise, not expecting the downward spiral he’s ventured onto.

“I swear I care about you. I want you to be happy, and I want to make you happy. I don’t want to be the one to treat you this way. Ever.”

I inhale as deep as I can, holding my breath until it hurts. “I know.” I take his hand in mine. “And I know your heart, and I know you care about me. I—” I sigh, “I’m not comfortable with...just forgetting all of this though. I can forgive you, but I think we need to take a couple steps back. I’ve gotten so swept up in your life and your world, I’m losing my own.”

He nods slowly, accepting my words with a pained face.

“I care about you too.”

He looks up for the first time, catching the last few tears with the back of his hand. “I know you do.”

I offer a small smile and lean in to kiss his cheek. His eyes fall closed, and blindly he turns to press his lips to mine. Our kiss is salty and urgent.

“What did you say to everyone when you left?”

He frowns in thought, like the memory is too far away. “Nothing. Jumped in my car and prayed this is where you’d be.”

I take his hand and pull us both to our feet. “We should go to bed. It’s been a long night. Too long.”

We’re quiet and slow as we shed our clothes and brush our teeth, slipping into bed around two a.m.. Harry doesn’t waste a second in pulling me into his warm chest, wrapping his arms around me in a tight hug that has me burying my face into his neck.

We lay there, silent, but when I know I don’t have much longer before sleep overcomes me, I kiss his shoulder, whispering how much I love him before I close my eyes.

[inredunderlinedx]

ohohoh okay so we all know Nat isn’t that big on opening up to people, so i refuse to believe that she would be completely open with r initially. so maybe like R thinks nat doesn’t like her, and they’re at one of Starks balls/parties, and nat gets jealous that some of the men are starting to eye r up?? and the lyrics from exile “ i can see you standing honey with his arms around your body/laughing but the jokes not funny at all “

or even if r notices Nat’s staring and perhaps approaches her abt it? with the lyric “ i can see you staring honey like he’s just your understudy/like you’d get your knuckles bloody for me “

angst(?) with a good ol confession thing at the end? maybe a first kiss if you’re feeling it? female reader new avenger <333 THANKU ILY

A/n: OF COURSE! this is actually such a good idea! I’ll do a little mix of both 😉 @moonflowcrr

I can see you standing honey, with his arms around your body… Natasha Romanoff x reader

A/n: this fic will use she/her pronouns! As always requests for different pronouns in a new fic are welcome!

Being new is never fun in any situation. Being the new Avenger? So much harder.

The Avengers were like a family, and I was the foster kid their dad brought home one day. None of them knew what to do with me, so I felt pretty alone.

I tried to make friends, I really did, but most of them seemed annoyed by me and other were outright rude.

More specifically Natasha Romanoff, aka The Black Widow. I was positive she hated me.

She held me back from missions, made me spend hours training with her—where she would belittle me— and she completely disregarded my presence otherwise.

thankfully, Tony Stark seemed to take a liking to me after I helped him with a technical malfunction with his suit on a mission.

That’s how I ended up invited to a stark gala.

I knew what I should expect from the event, but honestly nothing could have prepared me for what it was actually like.

I showed up in a sparking black dress,

•

(Regular) it had a skirt to the floor, and a leg slit, the waist was perfectly fitted, and I had a single spaghetti strap on my shoulder in a pentagonal shape, leaning left.

(Modest) the dress was to the floor, it had a medium with skirt—just puffy enough to look nice, but not like a ball gown. The dress had a good fit, and the sleeves went down to my wrists, in a triangle attached to my ring finger

(With head covering) my hair was wrapped in black silk, with subtle sparkles here and there

•

The whole room was buzzing with conversation, I had not realized just how many people would be here.

I noticed many of my fellow teammates, as I looked around the crowded room.

I quickly walked to the open bar and ordered a glass of champagne. (Or sparkling cider if you don’t drink alcohol)

I stayed by the bar, having no idea where I should be. I felt incredibly overwhelmed and lost. I was an avenger, I should not be scared of a bunch of rich people.

I tried to look like I knew what I was as doing. I pretended to have a plan, I walked to the buffet with purpose even though I was panicking.

I felt like multiple eyes were on me but I couldn’t see anyone obviously staring.

“Hello, I’m Richard… you?” An older man said to me with a smile, if it wasn’t for his obvious stares at my boobs I would believe him to be sincere.

“I’m y/n.” I said hesitantly

“It’s a pleasure y/n. Would you care to dance? This is a favorite of mine.” He said awfully good at charming people into ignoring his obvious intentions.

“I’m not sure—“ before I could finish he had grabbed me and started dancing with me. I was absolutely disgusted but I played it off like I thought it was funny

The night filled with men of all ages talking to me while i tired to politely hint that I wasn’t interested due to the fact that I was gay as fuck.

None of them got the hint, but then again, it’s not like men are well known for listening when you say no.

Eventually I escaped the carousel of men asking me to dance and complimenting my body.

I saw Natasha staring at me, looking slightly agitated, from across the room.

I tried to ignore it and went to the other side of the bar, to avoid her presence.

“So.” She said appearing beside me, “you seemed to get a lot of attention tonight. Looking for something with deep pockets?”

I looked at her, completely insulted by the insinuation.

“Excuse me?” I said, finally gaining soon courage, “that out there, was not at all what I came here to do. Way to victim blame though. I’m glad that without even speaking to me you managed to decide I was a gold digger.”

I took a shot of vodka (or not) and stormed out the exit. I called a cab and went back to the compound immediately. I was so pissed off. I never did anything to her.

She had no right to speak to me like that.

Once I got inside I went to my bedroom and changed into athletic clothes.

I went down to the gym, and I started running, when the running stopped helping, I hit the punching bag.

I knew my fists would be red and cracked tomorrow but I couldn’t stop my fists from colliding with the bag; I was semi-addicted to the sense of relief I felt with my hands hit the bag.

“Y/n.” A voice called.

It was Natasha. I ignored her.

“Y/n.” She said, more firmly this time.

I still ignored her

“Y/n!” She snapped, grabbing the bag and holding it in place.

“What?” I said, my eyes burning with rage.

“Look, I’m sorry I said that-“

“No you aren’t!” I said

“Yes I am.” She continued, “just hear me out?”

“Fine.” I said still angry.

“I shouldn’t have said those things. It was wrong. I had no right. My behavior towards you has been completely uncalled for and unprofessional.” She said, looking guilty.

“Then why did you do it? What did I do to you?”

“Nothing! I was jealous.”

“I’m sure you could flirt circles around me, if you want to date any dude you want, that’s fine with me. I’m gay. So I wasn’t flirting at all tonight.”

“No— y/n. I was jealous, but not of you, of them. I didn’t want anyone to flirt with you. And I didn’t want you to get hurt on missions, but I can’t be around you without wanting to push you up against the wall.”

“Oh.” I said completely speechless.

“I know it’s unprofessional, and I plan to have us separated in the future, I’m sorry if this made you uncomfortable, I will stay away from you.”

“No- Natasha, wait.” I said, “I like you too, I just thought you hated my guts.”

“Oh my god I’m sorry. I just couldn’t be around you without feeling all mushy.”

“It’s okay…” I said smirking, “so… what was that about pushing me up against the wall?”

[forever-rogue]

Alright alright ty for responding! I’m super hyped abt this one hehe but here I go:

This is for Frankie Morales, who I love so freaking much ☺️

Okay okay here: A high school reunion where Frankie and Reader meet again after 10 years.

They had such a huge crush on one another and reader was ‘popular’ while Frankie was just shy/nerdy. Maybe they dated but had to separate while they were in college because of the distance but they still have feelings after all these years?

Also reader has learned that Frankie has a kid but didn’t know that his wife divorced him so she’s kind of upset until Frankie tells her (assuming she runs off or something?).

Eventually they start again in their relationship and it’s a fluffy and cute!

I love angst and fluff so since you like writing about those I thought you would be a great person to ask hehe. Anyways I love your works so much and thanks in advance if you write this! ❤️✨

A/N: this is literally just a ton of softness, enjoy! 💕

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: none

FRANKIE MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

You could hardly believe your eyes as you scanned the room and found the one person you hadn’t been expecting to see. Out of all the people in the world, there was Frankie Morales, across the crowded ballroom, mingling with a few other of your old classmates. It had been two whole decades since you’d last seen him; two decades since you’d last kissed him, last told him you loved him, last held him. Back then you had been positive that you wouldn’t see the last of him. 

You knew he’d gone into the military after high school, greatly deviating from your plans of college, and ultimately causing your break up. You’d never heard a word from him or seen so much as a glimpse of him since the day of your graduation. At first you had been hopeful that you’d see him again sometime at some point, but the time had never come. That had led you to believe that he wouldn’t even be coming here tonight, to your class reunion. You could just picture him saying something along the lines of ‘why? what a silly waste of time!’ Unbeknownst to you, he hadn’t actually planned on coming - not until he’d gotten word through the grapevine that you’d be there. 

The sight of him was enough to take your breath away; he still looked exactly the same after all this time, just older, hardened, and world weary. Much like yourself and everyone else here, you supposed. But when his soft, chocolate eyes met yours, you couldn’t help but grin at him, the corners of your mouth tugging upwards without a second thought. Turning to the group of women you were chatting with, you offered them a half hearted excuse and made your way over to teenage love. Frankie didn’t hesitate to do the same.

Meeting halfway in the middle, you almost crashed into each other, your body practically humming with excited nervous energy as you stared at Frankie - your Frankie. He smiled that same smile you’d fallen in love with all those years ago, his magnificent dimple making its appearance. 

“Frankie-”

“Honey Bee-”

“I can’t believe you’re here,” you both said excitedly, before breaking into a fit of giggles. At least you were on the same page about this one. Part of you had always wondered, even if just a small, tiny part of you, whether he held any disdain or dislike for you after you ended your relationship. It had been hard at the time, you were both lovestruck young fools, but you both knew at the time, even if only deep down, that it was the right thing to do. Maybe it had all happened the way it did for a reason. 

“Do you want to go outside? To the gardens?” he asked softly as you nodded in response. Without a moment of hesitation, he reached for your hand, clutching it tightly, but gently, in his much larger one, lacing your finger together without a second thought. Trailing behind his long strides, you couldn’t help but admire his frame; tall and broad, with just the right amount of softness that somehow remained firm. He’d gone from a good looking teenager to a handsome man. 

Once you were away from all the commotion and outside in the cool evening air in the gardens decorated with lightly twinkling lanterns, he paused and turned to study you. A look of pure adoration was etched into his eyes as his hands found either side of your face and he gently traced over your features. 

“You are just as beautiful today as you always have been,” he beamed at you, “my sweetest Bee. After all these years, I get to see you again.”

“Francisco…”

“May I kiss you?” as soon as his name fell so softly from your lips, he couldn’t help him. It was like he was eighteen again, and falling over, so easily, so effortlessly. You watched with wide, doe eyes, the most innocent expression on your face as you nodded before biting on your lip.

Before either of you could think too much about it, he crashed his lips onto yours and kissed you with a fervent, but gentle intensity. It was like no time had passed and neither of you had to think about it; it all worked so easily. Just like it had always been meant to be.

When you finally, reluctantly, pulled apart, you grinned at each other like fools. You couldn’t help but steal a few more kisses from him. “Frankie...I never thought I’d see you again. I can’t believe you’re here.”

“I wasn’t planning on coming,” he admitted sheepishly, looking down at his feet for a moment, “but I heard you were going to be here, and I had to come.”

“For me?” a flush rose into his cheeks as you beamed at him and offered up a shy nod.

“Of course,” he confessed, “why else? I always hoped I’d see you again one day...I never stopped thinking about you. How horribly cliche is that?”

“Well, even if it is, then I suppose that makes the two of us fools,” putting your hand on his cheek, you traced your thumb over his features, “you’d always cross my mind...a lot. Probably more than I should have…”

“Somethings never change, huh?” he laughed light as he led over to an empty bench surrounded by beautiful evening blossoms. You sat next time, watching with nervous intensity as he held your hand in his, “how’ve you been, Bee? Really? Tell me everything.”

“Only if you promise to do the same.”

“Always.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

And it was easy to talk to him; just like it always had been. In some ways, it was like no time had passed at all. With him you never had to think about what to say, or worry about him passing judgment or anything. It just was...and it was a beautiful thing. An odd longing feeling settled into your stomach the more you listened to him, leaning in closer and closer until you were almost in his lap. In some ways you wondered if it had always been him. Like you were both here again for a reason. You liked the idea that everything happened as it was meant to, as the universe willed it. 

“But then my wife…” as soon as the words hit your ears, you tilted your head to the side and gave him a confused expression. Wife, wife, wife. Holy shit.

Springing to your feet, your mind was reeling as you imagined all the ways in which you had fucked up, but Frankie was fast on his feet and was still right behind you, calling your name as he tried to catch up, reaching for your hand. Of all the things you had imagined, this wasn’t one of them. Eventually you stopped and turned to face with a wide eyed expression, “what do you mean wife? Frankie, I-I still have a lot of the same feelings I always did, but if you have a wife-”

“Bee, please no,” he shook his head fervently, trying to get you to calm down and calm his own racing heart, “no, no, no, I shouldn’t have said it like that - old habits die hard. I meant ex-wife. We’ve been…we’re divorced, and have been for over a year.”

As if to prove his point, he held up his left hand and showed you that he wasn’t wearing a wedding band. His own eyes flitted awkwardly to our own hand, almost as if to check that you weren’t someone else’s either. Instantly you felt foolish and silly, knowing it had been foolish to explode like that. You should have known better; Frankie would never lie to you, “I-I’m an idiot. I’m so sorry, Frankie. I just...I couldn’t handle the thought of you...well doing anything with someone’s married, or you being married to someone still. Needless to say, my own marriage didn’t end well; he cheated on me with multiple women.”

“I would never put you in that position,” he promised softly, “and I would never do that to anyone. Especially not to you, Honey Bee. If...if you’ll have me, however you want, I promise you I will never lie to you. I never have and never will.”

“Promise?” you looked at him with glossy eyes as your lip trembled, but he just nodded and reached for your hand, pulling you closer to him, “Francisco…”

“Of course,” he replied softly, “so full disclosure - I’m a divorced, single dad - very proud dad of the sassiest and sweetest little girl that is my world. I know that’s a lot, on top of everything else I’ve told you, but that’s...that’s what it is. Who I am. I guess it’s probably not what you were expecting...probably a let down.”

“No,” you promised him quickly, with a big, wide grin, “it’s wonderful. You’re wonderful, Frankie. None of those things are a letdown; you’re perfect. We’ve all got our issues - I’m a divorced, single dog mom that’s considered a failure by so many people because I went to college and ended up doing something completely different, and now run a small coffee shop. It’s not exactly lucrative, but I love it.”

“You always wanted a coffee shop,” he remembered; you’d told him about it more times than you could remember when you were just kids, “your dream came true!”

“It’s even better now,” you insisted softly, “because I’m here - with you. I think...I think it’s the only thing I’ve ever really wanted. Seeing you again, after all this time...it’s still you, Frankie.”

“After all this time?”

“Always.”

“Good,” he beamed at you, “I’m glad the feeling’s mutual. Honey Bee...may I kiss you again?”

“Mhmm.”

“And again and again and again?” you laughed at his playfulness, but underneath it all, you could see there was a serious side to all of this. He was looking at you like you had hung all the stars in the glittering night sky, “if you’ll still have me?”

“Always.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[babyboiboyega]

For One Night (Bolin x reader)

Pairing: Bolin x reader

Content: more BOLIN FLUFF

Word Count: 1.2k

REQUESTED BY ANONYMOUS: bolin fic request💕 omg i was thinking abt it n what abt sharing a bed!! like y/n lives on the other side of republic city so he let’s her stay the night and they r both awake ~respecting boundaries~ and by the time they get up they r cuddling ugh my heart

I hope you enjoyed this, anon! Once again, I’m currently starting my sophomore year of college and it’s completely online, so I’m trying to adjust to the new normal!

Babyboiboyega’s Masterlist of Masterlists

Babyboiboyega’s Legend of Korra Masterlist

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

Had it been anyone else’s home, anyone else’s room, anyone else’s bed; had it been anyone else, you would have rejected their offer to spend the night. You wouldn’t have even considered going home with them, even if you lived on the opposite side of the city.

But it hadn’t been anyone else; it had been Bolin.

Nonetheless, you had still refused when he had first mentioned it. Out of the many lessons you had learned growing up, not imposing on someone’s space was one of the main ones. Bolin and you were close, but you still hadn’t wanted to impose on him.

It was only after minutes of insisting, Bolin expressing his concern about you traveling by yourself, and a promise on his part to let you wash the dishes did you give in.

But now, as you exited the wash room, walking slowly into Bolin’s room, you wondered if it was too late to resend his offer. It wasn’t his fault at all; your hesitation came from noticing that there was just a bed and a few dressers in the room.

You had seen a couch in the front room; you’d just ask for a few blankets and pillows and sleep there for the night.

“You can have the bed, I’ll take the floor! Do you need anything?”

Your mouth dropped open at his statement. His eyes widened slightly at your expression.

“I-I don’t need anything, I’m okay. Bolin, I’m not going to let you sleep on the floor in your own home. You can have the bed, I’ll take the couch we passed in the front room.” Bolin’s head had started shaking before you had even finished speaking. You knew the look on his face and you knew what was coming.

“No, Y/N. You’re my guest and my best friend; you take the bed. End of story!”

He offered you a smile before bounding over to a small closet and taking out a pile of blankets as well as a pillow. Your feet took you over to where he stood before you quickly grabbed the pile out of his hands.

“Well, you’re not the one with the covers and pillows, huh? I’ll see you in the morni-”

“I’m not letting you sleep on that hard couch out there! I’d rather us sleep in the same bed than let you mess up your back.”

There was a bout of silence as you both stood there, contemplating the next option in this small, but nerve-wracking, predicament. You mulled over his words while trying to calm your inner thoughts, not to mention, your now erratically beating heart.

As Bolin finally registered his own words, his eyes widened. A loud smack rang through the room as his hand met his own forehead.

“That...sounded really weird- I didn’t mean it like that. Not that I was insinuating anything in the first place, but still-”

“Bolin, that sounds...fine. I’m okay with it-ONLY if you’re okay with it. We can put a pillow between us!”

There was once again silence between you two as you said the words neither of you expected to hear. Despite the silence and the tiny voice in your head screaming non-stop, you still couldn’t bring yourself to regret your words.

You and Bolin were friends; you two could share a bed and avoid the awkwardness, right?”

Well, you were about to find out tonight.

You walked over to the bed, your heart rate increasing with every step, and pulled the covers back. This was the last thing you had expected to happen when accepting his offer; you saw your actions from your own eyes, but it felt like an out of body experience. You couldn’t believe that this was actually happening.

But, wait...what was “this”? It was only one night; a night where Bolin had generously offered his home for you to stay in...for one night.

You sat on the bed and could feel the other side dip not too long afterwards, signaling that Bolin had done the same.

The both of you sat back, making sure to keep your limbs as close as you could to your body. The only sound that filled the room was the sound of you two’s breathing; you desperately tried to keep yours steady, although it became more challenging to do so the more apparent the situation became.

You could feel the heat radiating off of his body, and you tried to keep your eyes from looking in your peripheral. Key word: tried.

The second your eyes trailed over to where Bolin lay, they quickly snapped back to the ceiling as yours connected with Bolin’s.

Just when it seemed like the silence would become too much, a huge sigh escaped from Bolin’s mouth, causing you to quickly look over at him.

“If this is too awkward, I can move right out to the couch!”

Despite the barely contained embarrassment in your voice, Bolin offered a slight laugh. He turned to face you as well, his eyes just as soft as his smile.

“No, no. It’s not, I promise. It’s nice- but not too nice, you know? Like it isn’t weird, or anything. Well, not too weird.”

As his slight rambling came to an end, neither of you could help laughing, both of your laughs completely snapping the awkward tension in half. Despite the gaping space in between you two

“Goodnight, Y/N.” There was still laughter in his voice as he spoke, his eyes holding yours with a newfound confidence. You found that you couldn’t look away; you didn’t want to look away.

“Goodnight, Bolin.”

******

You could hear the hustle and bustle of Republic City when you first awoke, yet it wasn’t out of the ordinary. You expected to feel the cold breeze blowing through your window that could never stay latched shut, but instead you were encompassed by warmth. Shifting positions, you had no problem snuggling closer into the source of heat…until said source pulled you closer.

As you recognized the feeling of two arms wrapped around your waist, your eyes quickly opened and your head lifted from where it rested against something firm. You had to blink a few times for your eyes to adjust to the bright light that filtered into the room; yet, the second they did, you couldn’t quite believe what you were seeing.

Bolin’s face rested only a few inches from yours, his eyes still closed and his breathing still deep and even. Without thinking, you held your breath, not wanting to even risk disrupting his peaceful sleep.

Your eyes traced his features; his eyebrows, his eyelashes and the way they cast small shadows on the tops of his cheekbones, his eyes that were now staring right back at you, his-

“Good morning! Oh, I’m sorry. I was just…completely staring at you, aaaaand I’m totally invading your space, right now.” The laugh that came out of your mouth was filled with embarrassment, and you had to stop yourself from burrowing your head into his chest once more and causing even more embarrassment. You tried to scoot away from his embrace, but stopped upon seeing that he sported a small smile.

“It is a good morning, space invasion and all.”

The next laugh that came out of your mouth was full of surprise at his words and his willingness to stay in this position.

Now you could’ve laid there in the arms of someone you considered your best friend and just acted normal, or you could’ve acknowledged the feeling that made your heart twist in a way that brought a smile to your face and a spark of excitement into your bloodstream.

The latter definitely sounded better.

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

It is currently 1:52 AM, and I am wishing that someone taught me how to end imagines/stories!

Anon, I genuinely hope that you enjoyed this! It’s always fun writing for our favorite himbo!

Stay safe y’all, and much love!