#makes looking at the screen easier on the eyes too somehow?

[venacoeurva]

I got shaderglass to emulate a crt feel on my screen and this shit is so cozy...I have GOT to play Oblivion with this on

[killsaki]

backdoor cover. — tomura isn’t into betting too much, but he doesn’t mind winning.

no quirks!college!tomura shigaraki x f!reader

4.6k words | read on ao3 | minors dni.

CW / TW : DARK CONTENT! dubcon, drugging, mean!tomura, slight misogyny, victim blaming, really shitty college guys, you get slightly stepped on, fingering, creampie, planned noncon.

moving from your hometown is nerve racking no matter how old you are.

though, it is a bit easier in college than it would've been in middle school where you would have to stress about making new friends or impressing the cool kids. now, it’s mostly just the annoyance of having to figure things out like where all your classes are, and how the hell you’re going to find entertainment to keep you sane during the semester when you’re hundreds of miles from anything that you know.

but, lucky for you, the campus you’ve transferred to is the same campus as the oh so friendly, keigo takami.

the man was the definition of a social butterfly. he’d approached you the first day you were able to find your way to buy lunch on campus, learning your name and memorizing it to greet you every time the two of you crossed paths. then it advanced to him starting to make small talk when the two of you were standing in the same vicinity for longer than a minute. one day those short conversations turned into him walking you back to your car after classes and inviting you to parties his friends—or possibly other random people he’d interacted with on campus—would throw.

and at one of those parties, somehow, you became friends with touya. though, the entirety of the first conversation the two of you had was just you both tossing light insults at each other. at some point the two of you, like you had with the blonde, become friendlier. there’s still as many jabs at each other, but hanging out is never too bad.

keigo and touya both have introduced you to so many people, all of which have turned out to be just as fun and just as entertaining to talk to as they have been. you’ve felt nothing less than welcomed by all of their peers.

that is until you went back to their shared apartment one day and met their roommate. it wasn’t terribly awkward at first, he was slumped over on the couch whenever you came in for the first time. his eyes fixated on the television screen, fingers moving away on the game system controller held in his hands. you had greeted him, and he grunted back, not caring to offer a glance your way let alone a word.

you had sat at the bar by the kitchen while touya did whatever it was that he needed to do, your feet swung off the tall seat as you scrolled through your phone, having a pointless conversation with the dark haired man. only after you heard the noises from the tv halt did you hear the couch squeak as shigaraki pushed himself off of it and made his way into the same room. you watched as he slid past touya, trying his hardest not to actually touch him while doing so, and reached into the fridge for whatever offbrand green soda he decided to pull out. and you took note of how much smaller he seems than the other man—and also about how cold he looks, both metaphorically and physically.

“what?” he’d spoke for the first time, then standing in front of you as he looked at you with complete irritance written on his face.

“nothing.” you quickly responded, blinking as his eyes burned into yours.

“you know—” touya starts, waving his hand towards you with his back turned.

“from the bet with birdbrain?” tomura’s eyes still bore into yours as he spoke.

“you suck,” the man behind you was interrupted by the other as he obnoxiously slurped his drink and nodded almost sarcastically and turned back to find his seat once again. “but, yeah.”

you had a conversation as soon as you two left the apartment what was being betted on and what it had to do with you. though, touya probably wasn’t the right one to have that conversation with, he did nothing to ease the odd feeling that sat in your stomach from the way that shigaraki stared at you like you had offended him just by being there.

keigo, on the other hand, assured you that the guy just had issues with social cues and what not. he didn’t leave the apartment much and that it had nothing to do with you. though.. now that you think about it, he didn’t bother to explain what the bet was.

“keigo,” you look up from your laptop’s screen to where he’s sitting on his couch, eyes falling to his spread legs for a moment before catching the shine off the gold chain adored around his neck. “why do you never have clothes on when i come over?”

he tears his eyes from his own screen and blinks at you for a second before looking down at his outfit. one that he seems to be constantly wearing whenever you tell him you’re swinging by to hang out.

“these are pajamas, dove.” he raises his eyebrows at you.

“but i got here at noon?” you squint your eyes at him, only to roll them when he laughs.

“it’s also saturday.” he goes back to typing away on his laptop, and you almost do the same until you remember the reason you actually called his name in the first place.

“why does,” you pause, looking towards the hallway that leads to all of the men’s rooms and lower your voice before finishing your sentence. “what did you and touya bet on?”

you can see how his whole body stops for a moment, his fingers resting on the keys, smiling with his eyebrows drawn together.

“lots of things, which are you talking about?” he asks dumbly, as if this is the first time you’ve brought this up.

“when i first came over here, and i met your roommate, he said something about a bet between you two.”

“when was that again?” his head falls back against the cushions, fingers patting a beat on the poor metal of his laptop.

“last month.” you indulge him with pointless detail.

“i’m not sure why he would say that.” he shrugs.

“no clue?” you feel annoyance start to grow in your chest, it’s not like keigo to be clueless about anything. ever.

“none.” he still doesn’t bother to look at you.

“you’re lying.” 

“i’d never lie.” the pat on his keyboard stops as a door opens behind him.

“you’re doing it right now.” you mutter, nudging his knee with your foot in an attempt to keep him talking.

“where the hell are your clothes?” he snaps his head once he catches a glance of his roommate who is only dressed in a pair of tight boxers.

“i pay rent here, i don’t have to wear clothes.” touya yawns back, ringed fingers dragging down his face.

“sure, if you’re fine with the guest seeing you nearly naked.” you can see keigo smiling even with his head turned as touya looks back to see who he was talking about, which, of course, is you. and you’re trying your hardest not to look at him as well, forcing your eyes to stay on keigo or even on your laptop screen but the ink that seems to wrap all the way around his torso catches your curiosity.

“you can look,” he speaks with his eyes locked on you, waiting for you to make eye contact before continuing. “let me know if you want a different angle.”

you scoff, lobbing the pencil you had nearby at him and successfully hitting his back. which results in insults being thrown at you, ones which you playfully retort to. and suddenly the tension from your thoughts before is gone. your mind back at ease when you just relax into the friendship that you have with these two for hours while the three of you eat and watch movies—only after touya successfully pulls the two of you along into his procrastinating crusade.

and you don’t even think about tomura again.

until he comes out of his room.

it’s much later into the evening, the sun has already fallen and you’re about to get ready to leave when he makes his appearance. white hair falls around his face to where you’re almost unable to see his eyes, but you do, and you catch the way he side-eyes down at you the second you come into his view.

he doesn’t say anything as he makes his way into the kitchen and grabs himself a bowl of something, or when he sits at the bar to eat his food. only when he’s on his way back does he slurp obnoxiously on his drink and hover behind where both touya and keigo are sat and asks,

“who won?” you don’t bother to look up from the tv, knowing he wasn’t speaking to you. but neither of them say anything. “so, you’re both still losers.” again, silence. besides another slurp. “whatever.”

he heads back to his room, door shutting behind him to confirm he wasn’t coming back.

“he heard the game?” you ask, not looking away from the screen. you made sure to have them turn the tv down whenever you all got on shigaraki’s console, the last thing you wanted was to give him any more reason to dislike you. but you know in your gut that it wasn’t what he was referring to.

“probably.” touya shrugs.

“no tellin’.” keigo adds on.

“right.” you nod, tension in the air thickening just as before. “i’m gonna go.”

they both snap their eyes your way, watching as you pack your things from the homework session you were supposed to be having with keigo.

“you leaving already?” keigo sits forward, a bewildered look on his face. “you didn’t even finish your drink.”

“you’re gonna owe me for wasting my soda,” touya pipes back in. “might as well just stay and finish it.”

you just force a laugh, pulling the doors handle without another word. you drive home the same way, in silence. and once you get back to your apartment, you ignore all their notifications, including neglecting to send your nightly goodnight snapchats to them both. but even as the night drags on and the hours go by, you can’t force yourself to sleep. there’s a weird, uncomfortable feeling in your stomach, one that keeps you from being able to get comfortable.

you know that they’re not bad people, that they’ve been great friends to you over the past few months and you can trust them. yet, even reminding yourself of that, you can’t get the weight off of your chest. so, you grab your keys and head back to their apartment hoping keigo will put you at ease like he always—usually does.

“they’re not here.” tomura blinks down at you, hair messy as ever as it frames his face that holds his permanently bored expression that does nothing to help the ever growing pit in the bottom of your stomach.

“where’d they go?” you ask quietly, half expecting him to shut the door in your face.

he only shrugs, turning and leaving the door open as he starts to walk away. you feel your body fall cold, thoughts eating at you without anything to slow them down. you can’t even remember what it is you’re so worried about, why you even feel this way.

“you’re letting the heat out.” you hear him mumble, as he starts to gather his things from the living room into his arms loudly. “i don't care what you do, just shut the door.” his shoulders roll back when he stands fully again and heads to his room. he’s so much taller when he actually stands up right.

you decided to wait inside, maybe you could catch keigo when he comes back. or even touya and—it’s two am. you step inside and shut the door behind you, falling to the couch once you reach it. maybe watching tv will help pass the time, oh and your soda is still on the table, perfect. now you don’t have to ask tomura for anything.

“why are you here?” he sighs, passing behind you, as if he was forced to ask.

“i just wanted to talk to them.” you light up your phone screen, debating on just calling them to see where they are.

“they had a bet.” you can see him trying to crack his neck from where he stands at the side of the couch. “if that’s what you came to talk about.”

“what?”

“you always ask them questions that they don’t answer, and you see how they get quiet whenever i ask them who won. before whats-his-name started talking to you they had a bet.” he talks down at you like it’s the most obvious thing, like you should’ve known this already.

you can feel your hands bunch up the material of your pants as they curl into fists on their own.

“it was who could fuck you first.”

and you think you can hear your heart as it falls out of your chest, toppling down your body and the couch as it clunks to the ground.

“that’s the only reason they started talking to you.”

he sighs, plopping himself down on the other side of the sofa, just far enough away from you that the two of you wouldn’t be touching.

“they probably actually like you now.”

 like that was supposed to bring you any comfort.

“why don’t you like me?” you say it before you can even process the painful information he’s already given you, before you even really think about it. though, you don’t have any anxiety about his answer. he’s already told you the worst thing possible about the two people you’d become closest with and you know he doesn’t like you. nothing he can say will make the way you feel any worse.

“huh?” he looks over at you with an eyebrow raised, but lips tilted in annoyance.

then you remember tomura is brutal with his words and truly doesn’t care about other people's feelings. maybe he’ll tear into you just to get you to leave.

“you always glare at me, you ignored me when i’ve tried to speak to you, you-”

“god, shut up.” he lays his head back against the cushion of the couch, spreading his legs so that his knee leans against yours. “i don’t like you because you’re stupid.” he’s as blunt as you expected him to be, but it doesn’t feel like theres any malice behind his words.

“i don’t think i’m stupid.” you say out loud, but mostly to yourself, you know tomura doesn’t care what you think. you stare at the watered down drink in your hand, mouth gone dry from the horrible feeling in your gut, you bring it up to your lips and drink as much as you can before you need to breathe.

“that’s why you are stupid.” he rolls his neck to look at you, head still laying on the couch. white hair caked to his face, red eyes staring at you without that usual grimace for what feels like the first time. “you think you’re too smart to be fooled, that’s why they were able to get to you so easily.”

“but i didn’t fall for anything because i never did anything with them.” you reason, taking another gulp from your drink and he just blinks back at you.

“you’re still in their hands.” he yawns, shifting his hips. “even if they do like you, what’s stopping them from using you as a quick fuck one night?”

you can’t think of an answer. it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to have sex with one of them, but really you always thought one of them would ask you to be their girlfriend if anything was to happen between you and whichever. the couch squeaks when he moves his hips again, readjusting once more.

“why would you tell me about all this if you’re their friend?”

“to get you out of my apartment.”

the feeling clouding your entire body couldn’t possibly get any worse, but the thought that he might’ve been telling you cause he cared, even if it was the tiniest bit- that might’ve helped. maybe you shouldn’t have even asked.

“right.” you nod, pursing your lips. “i’ll leave then, thanks.”

the second you stand up, the light from the hallway shines onto tomura’s lap. how the fuck did you miss that he had a hard on this entire time.

“oh.” you say before you have a chance to stop yourself. “sorry- i’m sorry.” you cover your mouth heading for the door, but after a few steps you start to feel dizzy, ultimately collapsing to the floor when your knees go weak. you hear something that sounds like ‘what the fuck’ come from behind you but it sounds muffled. you heart racing makes the sound of your blood pumping far too loud to hear anything else. but then, he’s crouched in front of you looking even more displeased than when he’d first opened the door. he doesn’t even say anything, just sneers at you.

“what was in that drink?” you grasp his shirt, hold shaking as your hand trembles. you feel the warm pit in your stomach from earlier increase by tenfold. it brings heat to your cheeks when you realize there's a puddle starting to form in your underwear, that your cheeks are burning and the feeling overtaking you is want. 

“oh, you really are fucking stupid.” he sighs, looking over to your nearly empty glass and chuckling in disbelief. always so cruel. “maybe they don’t actually like you.”

“tomura..” you can feel the tears prick at your eyes as the heat boiling under your skin starts to spread. “what do i do?”

he sighs again, because you being here is such an inconvenience, the thought of him having to help you is a complete detriment to his night.

“leave, call the police on them for drugging you, go to the hospital, fuck if i care.” he stands back up, groaning as he stretches and you moan from the sound alone. it makes the heat in your cheeks flare with embarrassment and you feel like you may pass out from it all. his feet shift in front of you, and all you can do is curl in on yourself, clutching to your clothes and press your thighs together in an attempt to ease the ache building between them. the pain that in an instant reaches from the top of your head down to the soles of your feet, making even them blister and throb.

“you’re so pathetic.” he mumbles, nudging your shoulder up with his socked foot. “you’re just gonna sit there and hump my floor?”

you let the tears fall, stop holding in the sobs you’ve been trying to keep silent. you want to think about how wrong you were, how you truly thought you could trust keigo, touya even. but tomura was right, all along he was warning you without even talking to you. you want to cry and to curse them but you can’t, your mind is clouded over with lust and it’s taking everything in you not to stick your hand in your pants right there like some kind of deviant.

“say it and i’ll help you.” he pushes up harder with his foot, forcing you to sit upright, to look at him. the light from the kitchen illuminates behind him, and from here he looks the same as every single murderer in every scary movie you’ve ever seen. as much as you want to feel even the smallest bit of creeped out, embarrassed, or even to reject his shitty offer. you can’t, your body won’t let you be rational. it fights against everything you know is right.

“s-say what?” you try to steady your breathing, hiccuping as tears still stream down your face.

“that you’re pathetic, stupid, i’m not picky.” he shrugs, rubbing one of his eyes as he looks down at you expectantly.

“i’m.. pathetic.” you say it, admit it easily, because even now with a half empty mind you know it's true.

without word, the same foot that pushed you up, presses against the side of the same shoulder forcing your body to the floor. you allow it, not complaining even when the flat of his foot lands between your shoulder blades to press your chest down. he props your hips up and works your bottoms down without speaking, which is probably for the best. there’s no way anything he could say would make you feel better about this situation or the fact that he’s the one ‘helping’ you through it.

it seems to worsen the second that your sex is exposed to the air, your whole body rushing with what feels like molten lava in your viens.

you push against his touch the second it slides along your slit, moaning loudly into the plush of the carpet. it earns you a slap with the back of his hand against your skin but it only plays further into your pleasure, which makes him huff behind you. the need for something more—anything more overwhelms you and you start to beg mindlessly, truly, because you don’t know what the fuck is falling from your tongue, only that your mouth is infact moving.

“shut up.” shigaraki grunts from behind you. “so fucking annoying.” he’d probably been trying to prep you, to give you some kind of mercy, but then again he could’ve just been attempting to tease you. either way, he cuts it short, shifting behind you and pushing the tip of him against your already fluttering entrance. his free hand comes down to where his foot had been, pressing flat between your shoulder blades to keep you in place.

he gives you no grace as to ease it in. your hands claw at the carpet as he shoves all that he can in with one thrust, nails digging into your skin come with the sharp breath the both of you let out. you’re nothing more than a body, than the euphoria you feel with each push of his hips to force his cock fully in, than the sound that slips from your mouth beneath him. you can tell with each movement tomura is doing this for himself and couldn’t care less about how you feel, doesn’t even think about how thick he is. doesn’t care if the stretch from him burns, if it makes you cry or hurt—and if he does, it’s because that’s what he wants.

but that thought alone makes you clamp around him, forcing a small sound from his chest. you can feel your slick along the insides of your thighs when he finally presses his hips fully against your ass, you know it has to be dripping down the base of him to his balls. you’ll blame it on the foggy state of your consciousness but it makes your mouth water, the thought of him using you for his own pleasure. the smallest hint of him being attracted to you well enough to get off to you despite him being so indifferent about you before. it makes you hungry in a way that probably can’t be blamed on whatever drug your so-called-friends slipped into your drink.

you pull your hips away from his before pushing back once again, drawing another sound out of you both. the hand digging into your spine drags its nails to your hips, the other finding its way there to grip you at both sides as you fuck yourself back onto him. with each push you feel his hips cant forwards the tiniest bit to meet yours, and it sends pride throughout you. not to mention the feeling of him easing the all consuming ache with each stretch of him that he allows you.

his hands move from their position to grip at your ass, crescent claws digging into the soft there as he spreads your cheeks and takes control of your pace. it’s as rough as you’d expect from him, you’re sure you’re going to be bleeding with the way he forces your movements with his hold on you. you scramble to hold onto the carpet when he moves slightly, no doubt accidentally, and the tip of him prods against that spot inside you that has you losing your mind.

“oh god, fuck-fuck-” slips out, you’re actually able to catch that one.

“shut the fuck up.” he replies, voice strained. and suddenly you can hear the panting, it’s loud and fills the room right alongside the sound of his balls smacking against your skin. he feels good, it’s so obvious when he speaks.

“feels s’good,” you slur out again when he adds even more speed to his thrusts. “s’good, thank you, thank you.”

“shut up, shut up.” his voice comes out as a moan this time. one of his hands comes down just above your ass, pushing your hips flat to the floor and he moves his knees on either side of your thighs.

“s’close, please-” is all you’re able to get out before his palm is over your lips.

“just fuckin’ take it and shut up.” he hisses in your ear as his body lays over your own. you can feel him panting now, against the juncture of your neck. “they’re so fuckin’ dumb.” he mumbles, groaning when his movements become sporadic, clearly nearing the edge as you start to clamp down on him.

a few more pushes against your soft, warm, sticky walls, and you can’t keep the blurry coffee table in your sight. your eyes roll back as hot static forces its way through your veins and up your spine. the twitch of his cock inside of you only adding to it, the spill of his seed on the other hand seems to pull you out of it and only the small sounds of his whimper keep you in place. it was something beyond the bliss of an orgasm to hear such a stiff man moaning for you.

it’s soft then, his cock as he pulls it out, and his movements. he tucks himself back in his pants without bothering to clean himself, but for you, he strips away your bottoms before helping you up and to the door to his room. you want to finally be rational now that you have the means. you want to go home and wash tonight off of you. to leave and never come near tomura’s roommates ever again. but when he tosses you down on his bed and comes back from the bathroom that you had no clue that he had in his room, to give you the rag to clean yourself, you decided against it. maybe, you should just sleep.

you pass out the second he gestures you to actually lay down, the look of annoyance back on his face when he does so. and you’re fast asleep by the time there’s a jingle of keys at the door, neither of them speak as they come in to find their roommate on the couch, fingers fiddling away at the console controller. though if you were there to look at them, you would see how keigo’s eyes instantly darted over to your empty drink. and how touya’s mouth immediately twists up in annoyance.

“she wasn’t at her place.” touya says, falling down beside his friend. “thought you said the pills that guy had would’ve had her like putty.”

“bad info.” he shrugs, shooting the last kill on his game before looking over at the blonde still standing. “got somethin’ to say?”

“what happened to the drink?” keigo asks, but the crack in tomura’s door is more than enough to see the figure laying in the bed.

“oh, right,” shigaraki takes his focus back to the tv and uses one hand to switch screens, holding the other out, palm up. “i won.”

repost from my old blog <3

[fernandopiastri28]

you love me (i really do) ~ lando norris

~ part 1 ~

warnings: drinking, angst

Everything came back to her now about that night in a flash, the night Lando got a podium in Singapore. It had seemed like a blur in the moment, since the celebration had been so quickly swallowed up by endless shots, blaring music, too much touching, and the way Lando’s touch felt hot and heavy all over her.

He’d wanted to celebrate it, that’s obviously why he was crazy drunk- his eyes bright with the sort of excitement only a champion had. He’d been so happy, soaking up every moment of attention that blared on him. Sure, Carlos had won the race, but Lando had been enjoying each second like he was the one taking home the first place trophy.  

The photos and videos seemed endless. There was him getting out of the car, his toothy grin, the way his face lit up in pride as he raised the trophy high above his head. Each scroll past the photos felt like more of her restraint being chipped away at her body.

Her situation had become so direly drastic to the one she’d found herself deep within only a matter of hours ago. Her surroundings went from the blinding neon lights of the club, to the sudden dim shade as her head remained buried under layers of thick blankets. Her neck craned at an uncomfortable angle to look at her phone screen as her thumb idly swiped through twitter. It seemed like a bad dream, a bad hangover at that- all regret with all good memories just narrowly out of reach.

Seemingly, the whole platform had been going crazy over the ‘CarLando’ podium. The memory of seeing it first hand was beyond hazy for her, but seeing the photos now- it must’ve been the best of his career. Standing on the second step next to his best friend, champagne coated his face in a glimmering sheen under the luminous night light celebrations. 

Each new piece of media that appeared on her timeline caused her resolve to falter slightly more, being steadily replaced with the desire to bombard his phone with strings of apology texts. She shouldn’t have walked out on him, she shouldn’t have left without an apology, she shouldn't have ignored the three times he’d tried to call her presumably just after he’d woken up in an empty bed.

But she also shouldn’t have slept with him.

He was her best friend and not even a day ago, he was on top of her, all over her, inside her. Who’s to say when he did it with her would’ve been different? It was likely the exact same as every other time for him- have a good race (sometimes even if it had been a shitty one), get drinks, wait for a flock of attention from girls, give the most basic of compliments, ‘ you have beautiful eyes,’, ‘you’re fucking gorgeous in that dress,’, and wait for them to fall to their knees for him- literally.

Maybe it would wash over, maybe he’d be fine by the Japanese grand prix, Qatar at the least. He’d be fine, he always was. He somehow managed to consistently pick himself back up after each bad race, getting over a one night stand would be much easier than that.

Right?

Japan was the race directly after Singapore, and she didn’t attend. Lando wasn’t going to miss her, she’s pretty sure of that. After the initial few calls he’d attempted to make to her the morning she left him in the hotel, he’d gone seemingly radio silent. He was posting regularly on instagram, liking stupidly immature tweets, even hinting towards big upcoming projects for quadrant. He was.. normal. Unaffected clearly.

She took a flight to Australia, reckoning it was just about the safest place she could escape from Lando. The Australian grand prix was way back at the beginning of the year, and unlike his teammate, this wasn’t even his home, and he had no reason to go there.

She could camp out here for as long as she pleased- or at least until the middle of march when the 2024 Australian grand prix would be taking place. From the 24 of september until the 20 of march (give or take a few days), she had just about 6 months to sort herself the fuck up with him, or just escape somewhere else.

Trying to ignore all the information and blast of new media as the Qatar grand prix approached was near unignorable. McLaren was clearly confident about the track, and they believed that even under the unideal conditions of the track and the surrounding environment, that the cars were designed to fit each aspect of the Lusail Circuit.

And she wasn’t necessarily purposefully ignoring anything Lando related- in actuality she sometimes found her fingers hovering over a new interview of his. It was refreshing to see him happy, looking a whole lot better than she’d been feeling the last few days. So when her calendar pings as a reminder that qualifying was happening at 7 am, despite the stupid hour she’d need to be awake for it- she watched it anyways. 

Lando narrowly ended in 10th after his lap times were deleted. Oscar suffered the same fate, but still had the advantage of being 3 places ahead of his senior teammate for the sprint shootout. Unfortunately he suffered again in the sprint shootout, Oscar starting in pole position while he came narrowly behind in second. Considerably an impressive feat, but for someone who wasn’t satisfied if he was not very first- Lando couldn’t have seemed more disappointed.

The sprint was worse for him afterwards, dropping from 1st to 2nd as Max took his spot. Oscar retained his pole, keeping his pace throughout the whole race to eventually take home his first win (even if ‘ it wasn’t a real race’) as a rookie. Lando, once again, was not thrilled. After being in the sport for 5 years, he was still chasing the high that would accompany a win.

On the day of the actual race, Lando performed only slightly worse than Oscar- the two of them securing the second ‘McPodium’ of the season with Oscar on the second step and Lando in third. Beneath the sheer exhaustion, near matching grins spreaded across both of their faces as they proudly held up their trophies. There was no doubt that Lando would every let the fact that his rookie teammate got win before he did- that much was evident in all the post race interviews. 

There were certainly moments where she contemplated sending him a message, congratulating him on another podium to add to his collection. It did feel wrong though, appearing again out of nowhere when he achieved something notable. She didn’t want to come across that she’d only be there for him when he was successful. In actuality, she really just wanted to be back in his life. Surely a week without contact wouldn’t end the multi-year friendship they had.

But after all, a lot can happen in one night. Maybe Lando would gradually just turn into a distant memory of hers- somebody that she once knew.

At COTA, Lando secured his fourth podium in a row. He’d gotten 2nd in Singapore, 2nd in Japan, 3rd in Qatar, and back up to 2nd in America. This time, Oscar doesn’t join him on the podium, Lewis does instead. Two multi world champions- one a recent 3 time champion, the other with 7 titles- and Lando right there next to them. He’d be next, she was sure he would be.

It’s quite the sight, the three men stood up on their respective steps. Lewis- the past of formula one. The man who ruled the sport for years, taking home win after win. Only challenged by the very race winner of Max Verstappen. He was the face of formula one for the time being, and likely could be for the following few years. There were only a few talents in the sport who had the potential to fight Max for those future titles- and Lando was certainly one of them. He had a good car, a teammate who could challenge and push him to be a better driver, he had the determination- the drive to win.

Mexico wasn’t anything to write home about. She tried to not watch it, getting an icky feeling each time she saw Lando on screen because the only place her mind would go to was how sweet his mouth tasted. It seemed that the only thoughts that would flood her brain each time she saw anything related to him, her body went into a sort of remembering state when all she could think about was how she’d felt that night. He ended in 5th, so maybe she should’ve just not watched the race. His face was hardly shown beyond a clip of him just before getting onto the car, and then in the post race interviews. At least she didn’t stay up all night thinking about it.

Brazil on the other hand was a race worth watching- Max in 1st, Lando in 2nd, Fernando in 3rd. The gap between Alonso and Norris is insane, especially given Fernando was a 2 time world champion with more than 20 years of experience. He’d be next, she knew it. He’ll be a world champion soon, and her only wish was that she’d be smart enough and brave enough to reach out with congratulations. She also hoped that he’d be happy to receive one from her.

Notably the worst race of the season is Las Vegas, given that Lando crashed on Lap 3. He slammed straight into a barrier, his car almost flinging backward with the power of hitting a wall at 180mph. It was the only race she didn’t want, but hearing about it afterwards sent a cold sweat down her back. A sharp inhale filled her lungs and her hand stayed attached over her gaping mouth. She didn’t check how bad the crash was initially, and wad glad when she heard he was out without any injuries.

Finally, the season finale in Abu Dhabi occurred. After such an intense season (that she’d shamefully tuned in for more than she would’ve liked to admit post Singapore), it was almost a relief when the race ended, because of the realisation that she wouldn’t have to hear about Lando for a few months, until preseason testing at least. 

With the slight friendship (and possibly to be further blossoming) she’d managed to accumulate with Oscar, she’d found out the Brit was basically doing a world tour over the winter holiday. Places such as Bali and Vietnam, then all the way over to Finland- or an adjacent. She’d be safe, the only two drivers who would be in the same continent as her would be the two actual Australian drivers- Liam in New Zealand if he counted in the f1 drivers realm.

So she took the few weeks she had off of work- which wasn’t ever really solid as it seemed her career was all over the place, she took those solid-off holiday weeks to venture out to familiarise herself better with Australia. Sydney- she knew well, Brisbane maybe even more so. Melbourne the most due to attending the grand prix there every year for the past 6 seasons. But in all her time spent in Australia, she’d never truly gotten around to exploring Western Australia.

So she did what any right minded person visiting Perth who had connections to F1 would do- she reached out to Daniel and asked for any recommendations for her holiday. But instead of simply giving her a list of places to eat, shops to visit, sights to see, he straight up invites her to spend a week at his farm.

Yep, Daniel Ricciardo, farm owner.

Obviously, she accepted the invitation due to lack of other plans and pure interest about what a f1 driver of over a decade could possibly need a farm for. So the next day, her legs awkwardly cramped up in between her suitcase and the back of the passenger seat in the taxi. Her fingers idly drummed against the window as sparse pellets of rain hit against it. The sun blared down through the glass despite the rain- clearly a perth summer was no joke when it came to heat.

The timing of the car finally slowing down just in front of Daniel’s farm/house/home situation perfectly aligned for when her phone died. Manoeuvring her feet out of the tight squeeze where her suitcase was crushing her legs was her first problem, actually picking it up to carry out of the car was a whole different one. Once again, luckily for her Daniel was standing at the door, his signature grin lighting up his face. 

After a tight hug and a quick exchange of the past few months they hadn’t seen each other for (the time post SIngapore), he picked up her suitcase with ease and lugged it inside. The inside of his house was nice, beautiful even. That was expected for a millionaire- but it wasn’t the typical too much money, not enough actual taste , it was classy and elegant, while maintaining a certain homely charm.

“This is beautiful, Dan,” She murmured, shaking her head back as she gathered her hair into a ponytail. He barked out a laugh as he kicked off his shoes, 2 scuff marks on the ground ruining the otherwise picturesque place. 

“Thank you,” He grinned, “I try my best- or more so Heidi does,” Ah, that made more sense. Not that Daniel didn’t seem capable of designing a nice place, but the fact that it was actually his girlfriend made a whole lot more sense. 

Nudging her shoes off and over to join next to his, she gently stretched out her limp to relieve the formed tension in her back, “Heidi does a fantastic job then,” Her eyes travelled around the living room, taking in each piece of wall art and decorative choice.

Daniel’s dirtied socks glided smoothly along the marble floors, “Can I get you a drink?” He hummed, one hand on the kitchen island to steady himself as the other opened the fridge door. He grabbed out a beer can for himself and so out of pure convenience and not wanting to seem ‘fussy’, she asked for the same.

The harsh, bitter taste of beer abused her throat, an unpleasant and unwelcome decision at only 3 in the afternoon. On the other hand, getting her first drink down then meant that as the night progressed further, and drinks got heavier- she’d be somewhat prepared from such a light percentage drink. 

The rest of the evening was spent outside on the balcony, sipping beer and discussing the end of the season- how it had felt to get back to racing for him since the last race she’d actually seen in person was in Singapore where he’d been replaced with Liam. 

They spoke briefly about Liam at that, Max too- mainly his dominance that season, partially about him as a person in general. They moved to speaking about Oscar’s rookie year, and then unsurprisingly, the topic landed onto Lando.

Finally, in the last hour before midnight, with her legs tucked up to her chest, she looked to her left where Daniel was in a rocking chair next to her. “I hooked up with Lando in Singapore,” She murmured, her index nail scraping along the condensation lined glass where only the last few drops of her whiskey-coke remained. “We hooked up and then I just left him there,” Daniel’s eyebrows shot up, his lips parting in shock.

“I knew that,” He eventually exhaled, his words completely different from his surprised reaction. “LN told me pretty much the day after it happened, and for the following weeks too,” Shit, that felt awful to hear. Part of her had wished that Lando had magically stopped caring the day after it had happened- she wanted it to be easy on him unlike how it was for her. It was her decision to have left, he shouldn’t have to continue to feel so deeply affected.

The wrinkles in the corners of her eyes deepened as she looked down, a comical laugh escaping her lips. “Why’d you react like that then?” Her lips feel cold as her throat remains hot from the intense burn of the vodka shots they’d stupidly taken a few hours prior. “You looked.. shocked,”

“I was,” He admitted, downing the last of his drink before resting it on the corner of his armrest, the corner of the glass hitting the wood with a clink. “ I am , I’m shocked you’re actually admitting you just abandoned the bloke after a night together. He thought you would never mention it again- never speak to him again,”

The edge of passive aggression in his voice is noticeable even to the most clueless people. It made her squirm in her seat, the palms of her hands get sweaty, and a bitter taste filled her mouth. Daniel wasn’t the type to ever get mad with anyone, or even be any bit confrontational, so the way he was speaking to her seemed so out of Ricciardo fashion.

“I know,” Her voice was barely a low hum, self disappointment pulsing through her body. “I’ve felt like shit ever since- if that means anything,” When her eyes lifted off the wood panel of the balcony fence and towards Daniel, he was looking far out towards the night sky. 

His gaze met hers though, his bottom lip grazing under his teeth. It was strange seeing him that serious. “Doesn’t really mean too much to me, I think Lando needs to hear that,” Yeah , apologising to Daniel wasn’t going to do much was it? Lando was the one she’d left.

“He actually cares?” Her voice came out more surprised and untrusting than she’d expected. The scrunch of his eyebrows and twist of his lips in confusion gets her to keep talking. “Yeah, like.. I guess I just assumed it would be just like any other hook up for him,” Her hand carded through her hair, pushing it off her forehead. 

“He cares more than anything,” Daniel murmured, a slight laugh attached to his voice. He wasn’t mad at her at all, fully understanding her scepticism about how real the younger driver’s feelings were. “I know he doesn’t seem as if he cares about each girl he gets with- but he cares about you,” Their eyes meet in a sort of sad and poetic way. 

Daniel knows better than anyone the way she feels toward Lando, how she’s felt towards the Brit for years. Up until that night in Singapore, she’d waited for the day she could look at her best friend and not feel the most excruciating twisting in her stomach and cracking of her heart because he was the one thing she wanted, and the one thing she couldn’t have.

“In Vegas when he crashed, he asked for you,” The Aussie's voice had lost its humour, any sense of fun from earlier in the night having fully faded away. “So many times. He was hysterical, couldn’t understand why you weren’t there to hold his hand,” 

Holy fucking shit. She wanted to cry, a tightening sensation formed in her throat, becoming painful to swallow. “I should’ve been there,” She bit down on the inside of her cheek, the sharp metallic taste of blood spilling onto her tongue. “I fucking should’ve reached out when I heard,” 

He squeezed her hand tightly, his thumb squishing her hand up to reach the tips of his index and middle. “You had no way to know, you weren’t expected to be there either. You have your own life, Lando needs to know that,” She can’t shake it from her head though. “You’re not in the wrong, you don’t owe him to be there whenever he needs comfort. I think he just needs to know you’re not angry at him,”

Angry? Why on earth would she be angry? Lando hadn’t done a single thing wrong to her, she did owe it to him to be there when he crashed, when he was scared and alone. “Yes I do,” Her eyebrows drew to a pinch, a look of frustration clouding over her vulnerable near crying expression.

“ You don’t”

I do, Daniel. You don’t get it. I left him, I left him there alone straight after-

“He told me he loved me,” 

That got a genuine look of shock from the Australian. “Shit. I didn’t know that,” His voice got breathy and harsh around the edges. 

“Yeah.”

“Do you love him back?”

“Yeah.”

His hand left hers, moving to rub over his face. “Jesus,” It was so quiet between them that the noise of the near midnight light breeze was louder than either of them. “Does he know that?”

The muscles in her neck tensed with a deep swallow of the spit gathering in her mouth. Gross. “No. I don’t think he knows I heard him either,” She’d never felt more shameful. Her mind had been so fuzzy with alcohol and lust that it had just been too much. “I didn’t think he was serious. I didn’t think he could seriously love me,”

God, she needed to shut up before she began bawling her eyes out to Daniel.

“Why not?” She didn’t quite know how to answer his question. There were probably a million and one things she could give as half arsed replies to why she didn’t believe she and Lando should be together. The distance, constant travelling, lack of affection and physical ties. But Daniel could see right through her, he could see her lies.

“I’m just nothing like the girls he’s been with before. I didn’t- I don’t understand why when he could have absolutely anyone in the world, he’d want me,” She corrected herself, feeling far more vulnerable then she’d ever allowed herself to be in front of anyone before.

They’re no longer looking at each other, both too focused at staring up at the stars above them. “You make him feel safe. You’re the only one he’s always felt like a real person around. He’s not a race car driver with you, he’s not famous with you, he doesn’t have to perform and impress you, to you- he’s Lando, he’s your best friend. And to him, you’re home,” 

It’s difficult to form a single thought after that. So after the conversation pulled to a complete close, they both agreed it was late and they needed their rest. With a suffocating hug and reassurances that she’ll be okay, they parted ways- Daniel into his own room and her into the spare bedroom. His snores seeped into her room, yet they weren’t what kept her from sleeping. 

Lando was. 

She swore she could hear him everywhere, even smell him. She wanted him laying down right next to her, his arms around her waist as she slept with her head on his chest. He was the only thing that could calm her down, make her mind shut up for a bit so she could just rest.

Her head had begun pounding and her mouth became infinitely dry from the excessive drinking, so with a struggle to stand up straight, she headed downstairs to the kitchen. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness and her clammy hands gripped onto the handrails as she took each step one by one. 

Passing through the kitchen, she grabbed a glass out of a cabinet and poured a glass of cold water. She chugged it down eagerly, getting a refill before heading into the living room to sit on the couch and drink the rest. As the couch became visible to her poor sight, she saw a figure sitting at the end further away from her. A mop of curly hair was on top of the figure’s head- Daniel. 

Clearly he’d been unable to sleep like she had. Maybe he felt lonely too. Heidi was back in Portugal over the winter break, so he hadn’t seen her in a few weeks. He was probably in a similar boat as her right now.

She felt so empty after the past few weeks, and the hug she’d gotten from him only a few hours hadn’t quite been enough, so she set her glass down and stepped closer. The noise of her glass hitting the table grabbed the shadowed figure of Daniel’s attention, his head turning to face her. “Daniel,” She mumbled weakly, sprawling onto the couch next to where he was sitting and wrapped her arms loosely around him.

When he didn’t hug her back, she whined and dug her head into his chest. “Please Dan, I need a hug,” Her voice sounded so desperate as it hit her ears. “I just.. I want my brain to shut up for once, I- I’m just so tired,” 

“I’m not Daniel,” Her heart pounded in absolute panic. Her chest rose and dropped quickly as she attempted to think of all the possible explanations. This couldn’t be real, this couldn’t be an intruder. God, how had she been so stupid as to not switch on a light or anything before practically hurdling herself at this guy? If she died right now, it was all on her for being a thoughtless idiot. 

But in a moment of clarity where her mind considered who could possibly be at the house that wasn’t an intruder, she scanned through each person Daniel knew with curly hair and a British accent. Lewis? Didn't have curly hair. George? Also without curly hair. Ollie? Too young for Daniel to be friends with. 

Oh. 

“Lando?” A sharp exhale left her mouth as his name slipped out. She twisted her head to look up at him, his features only slightly visible in the near pitch black room. Sure enough, big green eyes and plump pink lips stood out to her. Her face crumpled, her heart thrumming in her chest. “ Lando”

He clearly had recognised her too, his lips parting as his expression softened. His eyes felt like a million knives jabbing into her, his intense stare mapping out her whole face. The smell of his cologne was harsh on her senses, yet was the most comfort she’d had in months.

“Why are you here?” Her tone sounded accusatory, which clearly wasn’t intentional. The comment landed poorly, his expression contorting strangely. Not helpful . 

“Spontaneous Australia trip,” He didn’t owe her an apology, but something was nagging at him to stay, to engage in the conversation. It was the most he’d seen of her in nearly 4 months. He couldn’t even begin to express how good it felt to hear her voice after so long. “Came to visit Dan, maybe Osc next. Dan always tells me if I’m ever in the country I can just come over.. so” He trailed off when she didn’t reply, and his mouth clamped back shut.

Just as it seemed he would get up and leave, his actions tense and rigid around her, his arms wrapped tightly around her. Quiet. Her mind finally went quiet. It was so peaceful for once. “I’m so sorry for everything,” Her voice was hardly a whisper, her mouth slightly muffled by the thick fabric of his hoodie. “I’m sorry for leaving, I’m sorry for not contacting you, I’m sorry for ignoring you when you tried to call,” Her breaths became more frantic, tears piling up in her eyes as she looked up at him.

“I’m sorry for- for hurting you, I’m sorry for not being there when you needed me,” Her mouth and lips were so painfully dry, her tongue darted out to wet her lips before forcing out the final apology. Just as she was about to, his mouth opened as if he was about to talk. “Don’t say it’s okay,” 

She knew him well enough to know exactly where he was going. He would apologise for absolutely everything that had ever happened to him, even if he wasn’t the one in the wrong. “Most of all,” Her throat tensed as he stared her down intensely. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I loved you back.” 

His lips shaped into a huge smile after a few seconds of emotionless shock, as if the news was the most impossible thing he’d ever heard.

“And you shouldn’t forgive me,” She shook her head insistently. That was another thing hse knew about him, he was the most forgiving person ever. She could absolutely ruin his life a million times and with a single ‘ I’m sorry’ , they’d return back to being best friends. 

“But-”

“You can’t,” Not only did she not believe she deserved his love, she didn’t believe she deserved any sort of forgiveness from him, much less for him to still love her after all this. All she wanted was for him to not have any hurt from the whole ordeal anymore. 

Lando tilted his head, his bottom lip tucked under his adorably gapped teeth. “You don’t get to decide that for me,” His eyes seemed impossibly bright despite the darkness, “Cause I want to love you, and it seems as if you love me too,” His right hand cupped her cheek, his thumb rubbing over her chin.

That was correct, she still loved him more than anything. She could fight those feelings away, give him all the excuses under the sun as to why she wouldn’t be with him- but her heart and mind wanted different things. Logically, dating a formula one driver who’s whole life revolved around travel and constant adrenaline- her life that consisted of a lot of mundane jobs and chilling at home, they just clashed .

The illogical part of her, the part that was thinking with her heart, believed that nothing would be better than to attend races, watch from the grandstands, and kiss him after each race. She could comfort him if he had a bad race or quali, she could be there to celebrate with after a podium or even a win. 

Right now, and maybe always, what her heart wanted was significantly outweighing what she thought was good for her. “Yeah, I do love you,” It didn’t feel or sound weird like it had when she’d told Daniel about it the night before. It felt good, really good. Very right too, because in all of her years of friendship with Lando- ever since she’d realised her feelings for him- she hadn’t ever admitted to herself that she loved him. 

But of course she did, it was clear as day. If she ever heard of anyone ‘liking’ someone the way she ‘liked’ Lando, she’d know immediately it was love.

Her confession felt even better when she saw how his face managed to light up even further. 

There was more she could’ve apologised for, and she could easily keep going, but she was quickly shut up with two lips pressed up against her own. Lando tasted just as sweet as he always did, a tinge of mint presumably from gum earlier on. 

Her lips didn’t adjust into the kiss at first, until he began to pull back and her lips secured over his bottom one, keeping him there. It took a few moments to warm up to it, but her mouth starts moving in time with his. It’s so quiet in the living room that the only noise is the quiet hums and sighs they both let out. “I’m really sorry,” She murmured again

His hands moved to position her body to be straddling him, not necessarily to make the kiss sexual, but to make the angle more comfortable. “I forgive you,” His teeth tug on her bottom lip, drawing out the kiss for longer. He grinned against her lips, kissing her softer over and over. “And I love you,” He murmured again. “So- please- stop- apologising,” He kissed her in between each word, trying to push forward his point.

It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders, “Okay,” Her cheeks felt hot to the touch, painted a darker shade of rosy red with each kiss. “Sorry,”

Lando groaned, his arms wrapping around her and pulling her in for more kisses. “For each time you apologise, I’m gonna shut you up with kisses,” He threatened, nudging her cheek with his nose.

“Sorry, but I’m gonna keep saying sorry then. Sorry, sorry, sorry” He kept his promise, kissing her after each and every apology. “Mmm, yeah. Sorry,” Her fingers slid into place in his mess of curls, tugging gently to keep him in place for each kiss. 

“Bad idea.” He clicked his tongue, tilting his head to avoid her kisses. “No kisses till you stop saying it,”

That worked. 

“Okay, I’ll stop. I promise,” She held out her pinky finger to further the promise. He kissed the tip of her finger and then held it tight. 

“Good,”

“Good,”

“ Good ,” His lips slotted back into place with hers, his hands resting on her hips as hers tangled further into his hair. “You’re so pretty,” He hummed, licking into her mouth with slow and calculated moves.

“Hmm, you’re prettier,” Her whole body felt hot, but so cosy on top of him. She hadn’t quite realised how tired she was until that very moment, her words slightly slurred and her eyes heavy. She rubbed at her eyes, blinking away exhaustion.

He shifted underneath her, tucking his hands under her thighs to help wrap her legs around his waist. “Arms around my neck,” He whispered, intentionally keeping his volume to a minimum so as to not wake her up more. 

Her body felt limp as she rested all her weight onto him. He lugged her upstairs, opening the door with one hand as his other arm remained around her waist. “Lannnn,” She whined as she pressed more kisses to his neck. 

“Yeah baby?” He murmured as he laid her down on the bed, her body heavy and weak as it hit the mattress. “What’s up?” Her arms dropped down to her sides as they unlinked from around his neck.

“Stay,” It wasn’t a suggestion or question, more an incredulously desperate request. “Please, want you to stay,” She tugged at the hem of his shirt, wrapping it around her fingers.

He gave her a knowing look before nudging her over in the bed, crawling under the sheets next to her. “You’re not going to walk out this time?” He raised his eyebrows, his teeth poking out over his bottom lip when he grinned.

“I’m gonna say it,”

“Don’t” His voice went serious.

“I’m gonna say it,”

“Do.. not.. say.. It,”

“..Sorry,”

Lando let out a long groan, hauling himself half on top of her to smother her with his arms. “You are such a pain in my ass,” 

“You love me,” She pecked him, fighting back sleep just so she could keep kissing him

“I do love you,” He caved and removed his arms, placing them on either side of her face to corner her and kiss all over her flushed face.

“I love you more,” 

“Not possible,” He tutted, “And you need to sleep- now,” He nuzzled into her neck, his nose bumping against her ear. 

“I just wanna stay up kissing,” She scrunched her nose up, her lip raising in disappointment. 

Lando’s laugh was breathy against her skin, his hand idly swiping across her stomach to maintain some sort of touch. “Tomorrow. We’ll spend all of tomorrow kissing- I promise,”

That was satisfactory enough. She stared up at the ceiling, a complete different scenario from when she’d done exactly this last time with Lando laying on her. This time, there wasn’t a single cloud of doubt in her mind. She knew how much he loved her, she felt right being so close to him, not worried for how things might change between them and if it would be awful the day after. She just needed to keep faith and keep communication.

As she felt her eyelids getting too heavy to keep hers open, she swiped her hand over Lando’s forehead to push his hair up and place a kiss there. He looked up at her slightly, and with a smile, “Oscar lives in Melbourne,” He looked confused, probably thinking that he was mishearing her from lack of rest. “Huh?” His voice all deep and scruffy from sleep. 

“The flight from Perth to Melbourne is over 3 hours- you can’t really just pop down the street to go visit Oscar,” Lando laughed weakly at that. He shrugged, wiggling up closer towards her so his chin was over her shoulder.

“He’ll come visit- he’ll be ecstatic to know that we’re on good terms again,” Her hand drifted up under his shirt, her thumbs pressing into the joints of his back.

“Oscar and ecstatic are two words that absolutely do not go together,” She mused, a complete disconnect from her mind and whatever her hand was doing. All she knew was that Lando was enjoying it based on the noises he was letting out.

“A half smile may dance across his mouth at the joyous information,” God , Lando had such a strange way with words. 

“You’re weird ,” 

“You love me,”

“I really do,”

[saetoshi]

itoshi sae can’t sleep well when you’re gone. he’s too used to the feeling of your warmth next to his on the bed.

he spends his nights lying awake, a frown on his face as he rolls around to your side of the bed. he gets a wink of sleep before his alarm goes off. his brows furrow as he contemplates throwing his phone against the wall. (he never does—he hates the thought of not seeing your face pop up on his lock screen more than going another day without sleep).

his phone buzzes in his hand, an incoherent grumble leaving his lips before he rolls out of bed. he glances at the screen, disappointment bubbling in his chest when he sees the text isn’t yours.

he goes through the motions when you’re gone—his eyes lingering a little too long on your bottle of soap on the shower’s shelves. his hand subconsciously reaches for your shampoo, his heart swelling when the fresh, fruity scent fills his senses. he doesn’t linger for too long when brushing his teeth, his eyes actively avoiding your missing toothbrush.

sae can’t stand going to practice when you’re away. somehow, he gets more irritable than usual. he gets pickier with the passes he gives—even pickier with the way his teammates receive the passes. it’s bad enough that his coach sends him home on days like these. (it’s even worse how his manager lectures him on the way home).

he expects emptiness when he opens the door to his apartment, a sour look on his face. he kicks the door closed, a loud slam echoing through the place, his eyes shut closed as he tries to calm down.

“what’d the door ever do to you?”

his eyes snap open, his head whipping to the side. his annoyance melts away almost immediately—the corners of his eyes softening the longer he looks at that grin on your lips.

“nothing,” he breathes out, kicking off his shoes in a hurry before closing the distance between the two of you.

a smile worms its way onto his lips when you stretch your arms out. he walks into your embrace, hugging you tight until you’re patting his back and telling him you can’t breathe.

he rests his chin on your shoulder, his eyes drifting to your suitcase next to the couch. “when did you get back?” he asks, his voice soft.

“not too long ago,” you reply, gently rubbing circles on his upper back. you chuckle when he pecks the crook of your neck, giving him a small squeeze. he huffs, his arms tightening around you before he kisses your clavicle.

“i missed you,” he whispers, the words muffled by the fabric of your shirt.

“i know,” you say, patting his back in a soothing manner, “i missed you too, sae.”

“don’t leave for long ever again,” he adds, pulling back just enough to look at you. he frowns when you laugh, bringing his hand up to flick your forehead.

“i was only gone for a week,” you grumble, rubbing the spot he flicked. your eyes scan his face, your brows furrowing slightly. “you’ve been gone for longer.”

“it’s different,” he murmurs, the tips of his ears flushing. “because we’re on different timezones.” (it makes ignoring the distance easier, he wants to add. but he won’t—not today, anyway).

you sigh, faintly shaking your head. he tsks, pouting as he rests his forehead against yours, “it’s not the same when we’re in the same time, but in different places.”

his hands gently pry yours from his back, the corners of his lips quirking up into the hint of a smile when he laces his fingers through yours. his eyes find yours, a soft hum leaving his lips. “don’t leave for too long ever again,” he repeats, his words hushed.

“it was just a week,” you murmur, your eyes softening in amusement.

“a week too long,” he quips, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. you open your mouth to reply before he cuts you off, “don’t ever leave for too long without me ever again.”

you puff your cheeks, softly sighing before you nod. “okay,” you say, shaking your head when he smiles. he can’t help the laugh that escapes his mouth when you call him a spoiled brat under your breath.

“good,” he says, giving you a quick peck.

“good,” you echo, leaning up to give him a peck in return.

a soft hum leaves your lips, your eyes warm as you gently tug him into the bedroom. (neither of you choose to say something about the way he grabs your suitcase as you drag him away).

he doesn’t complain when you shove him down on the bed, placing his head on your pillow before leaning down to kiss his forehead.

“i’m too old to be tucked into bed,” he says, his eyes following your movements as you pull up the comforter to his chin. (still, he can’t help the grin growing on his lips when you smack his knee).

“just go to sleep,” you say, hoisting your suitcase on his side of the bed to unpack. your eyes flicker to his, a teasing smile on your lips, “you look uglier with those bags under your eyes.”

“i hate you.”

“whatever you say,” you stick your tongue out at him.

“i missed you,” he yawns, his eyes struggling to stay open.

“i missed you too,” you reply, your voice full of affection when you glance at him.

“you better be here when i wake up,” he murmurs, yawning once more as his eyes close. there’s a smile on his lips as he drifts off to sleep, his heart lighter than it’s been for the week.

“i wouldn’t dream of being anywhere else.”

[aaronsguccitie]

its the same anon, at this point i’m giving myself an emoji if thats alright - 💗

what about aaron coming home to a tired reader (cause taking care of a baby and a kid is hard work) and he lets her rest while he takes care of the kids like giving them a shower, prepping them for bed and reading to them?

I added this prompt too :)

Night routine

Cw: fem!mom!reader, fluff, Aaron being a girl dad, no use of yn, bathtime with Aaron (I killed myself with the cuteness), reader isn't too present here cause she's tired

Word count: 2.5k

It’s later than it usually is when Aaron finally steps through the front door. A meeting with Strauss had taken longer than expected, and when he closes the door behind him, he finds the lights already turned on, night having fallen a long time ago.

He walks into the living room and finds Jack cross legged on the floor, fixated on the game he’s playing on TV. His son doesn’t look up at him as Aaron crosses the floor and bends to kiss his forehead. “Hi, Jack.”

Jack’s brows furrow. “Hi.” He clicks rapidly on his controller and something explodes on the screen. “You’re late.”

“Yeah, I had a meeting, it took longer than I thought it would. Scooch back a little, don’t get too close to the TV.” Aaron looks down at his watch as Jack shuffles back. “You’ll have to turn that off in a bit, okay? Shower time.”

“’Kay,” Jack says, already going back to his game as Aaron straightens.

“Ten minutes.” He calls out.

“Okay.”

Aaron laughs softly as he loosens his tie, stepping over the toys haphazardly strewn across the floor. The sound of your voice is strangely absent, but when he peeks into the kitchen, he finds you loading the dishwasher. You’re in his gray sweatpants and a hoodie of his, the sleeves shoved up to your elbows; a happily babbling Lizzie serenades you from her high chair.

“Hi honey,” he greets. You turn and give him a smile, wan and thin as you set down the plate in your hand and cross the small distance, looping your arms around his neck.

“Hi.” The word escapes you in a low whisper and you sink into him, a low sigh getting muffled in his neck. Aaron frowns as he holds you up, his arms automatically wrapping around you once you go boneless.

“Hey,” he murmurs, his grip tight on your waist. “You okay?”

You hum, long and palpably exhausted. “Tired. Long day. The kids have been…restless,” you slur, but your tone says troublesome. “Lizzie wouldn’t finish her dinner,” you yawn, somehow slipping in his arms. Aaron wonders if you’re too out of it to not yell at him if he’d picked you up. Instead he adjusts his hold on your waist, digging his fingers in tighter. 

Lizzie, hearing her name, starts to talk louder. Aaron’s eyes go to her and he smiles, but then you sigh into his neck again and his attention is split down the middle.

“Jack needed help with all his homework. D’you remember fractions being this hard? I swear they used to be easier.” You continue, your voice thready and occasionally broken up with yawns. “And of course your daughter spilled—”

“Okay.” Aaron leans back to look at you, his hands leaving your waist to cup your face. You blink at him sluggishly, a frown making its way between your brows.

“I’m not even done.”

“I don’t need to hear more.” He says, his thumb brushing your cheekbone and catching the edge of the dark circle under your eye. “What I need is for you to go rest. Lay down, call it a night. ’Kay?” Aaron asks, but it’s not a question as he kisses your forehead and loosens his grip.

“But—”

“No buts,” he gently grabs your hands and unhooks them from his neck, softly pressing a kiss to each one, “I’ll handle everything. You’ve done enough.”

The smile that makes its way onto your face is more genuine this time. The fight leaks out of you easily and you squeeze his hands, grazing his jaw with your lips and murmuring, “Love you,” into his skin.

Aaron smiles. In turn he kisses your temple, giving your hands a matching squeeze before he lets go. “I love you. Now get out of here.”

You don’t need more convincing. As you leave the kitchen, Aaron ignores the half-full dishwasher and makes his way to the baby in the high chair.

“Hi Lizzie,” he coos as he picks her up, ignoring the stains on her shirt and cuddling her to his chest. Her small arms wrap around his neck, her fingers dipping inside the collar of his shirt. “Mommy and Daddy forgot about you for a second, didn’t we?” He kisses her forehead and gently runs his fingers through baby-soft hair as she babbles in his neck. “I’m sorry about that, angel. You have my full attention now, I promise.” He says, carrying her over to the dishwasher and continuing to load it one-handed.

It takes a while, but she keeps him entertained, tugging at his earlobe and whispering indecipherable secrets as he hums in agreement. It’s a constant stream of mhm’s and that’s right’s and no, really’s? until he catches the time on his watch.

“Jack,” Aaron calls out, “shower time!”

“Okay.” Jack drones from the living room. Aaron hears him thud up the stairs just as he shuts the dishwasher and turns it on, his arm starting to ache from holding up his toddler.

“Now bathtime for you, missy.” He says to Elizabeth as he straightens, switching her to the other arm and leaving the kitchen. She’s usually active, but she also appreciates the snuggles after a long day of work, so Aaron soaks in it despite his numbing arm.

The water is already running in Jack’s bathroom by the time he walks past it and into your room. Aaron keeps the door open behind him and walks in, stifling a smile at your still form in the bed. Your eyes crack open at the sound of Lizzie’s chatter, a little muffled from the fingers in her mouth.

Aaron sets her down on the bed and she crawls over to you. “Hi.” She says happily and falls into your chest, one of her fists tangling in the blanket covering you.

“Hi,” you whisper, securing a hand on her back and kissing her forehead.

“Leave Mommy alone,” Aaron says as he toes off his shoes and sheds his jacket. Elizabeth doesn’t listen to him and you give him a wink, smiling as he rolls up the sleeves of his shirt.

“I’m still the favorite.” 

Aaron scoffs lightly and tosses his tie on the bed. “Not at bathtime you’re not,” he murmurs. Lizzie perks up at the word and he smiles triumphantly, holding out his hands as she turns to him. “Let’s go take a bath, sweetheart.” He coos softly.

She stands wobbily on the mattress and Aaron grabs her before she topples, his hands secure around her body as he settles her on his hip. He pushes the bathroom door open as Elizabeth tries to say the word, her lips wrapping around the first two letters. 

“Ba.” She mumbles.

“Ba-ba-bathtime.” Aaron singsongs, pressing his lips to her forehead as she giggles. She wriggles in his arms and he sets her down, bending to plug the drain. “Bathtime is our special time, right, honey? Lizzie and Daddy time.” He opens the tap.

Lizzie bends over the tub and sticks her finger into the gathering water. She splashes it around and squeals, dipping her whole hand into it as Aaron chuckles. He keeps an eye on her as he lays out her towel, then closes the toilet lid and sits down on it.

Gently, he tugs her upright and brings her into his lap. Elizabeth pouts and Aaron taps her nose, the sulk getting replaced with bright giggles as he starts undressing her.

“How’s little Lizzie been today?” He asks softly. “Were you good for Mama?” He lifts her shirt over her head. 

She looks at him dazedly, her hair forming a frizzy halo around her head from the friction. 

A chuckle leaves Aaron’s lips, drowned out by the sound of rushing water in the tub as he smooths her hair down. “See, I don’t think you were. She’s very tired, did you have something to do with that, missy?” He stands and plops her in the tub; her attention immediately goes to the water as she splashes her hands. Aaron quickly discards her clothes in the laundry basket and then grabs her bubble bath, squeezing a generous amount in.

Elizabeth squeals and claps her hands. “’bles!” She giggles as Aaron kneels down in front of the tub.

“Bubbles,” he laughs, dipping his fingers in the water and swirling them around. Elizabeth does the same, and as she’s preoccupied, he reaches for her shampoo. Aaron squeezes some in his hand and spreads it through her hair until it starts foaming.

“Tell me about Mommy, how was she today?” He asks conversationally.

Lizzie answers in a series of babbles.

“Oh, she was cranky?” Aaron shakes his head. “You kids will do that to her,” he murmurs, curling all of Elizabeth’s hair into a singular swirl on the top of her head. She looks up at him and he chuckles, the sound making her own lips stretch into a smile.

Cute, he thinks silently, his heart suddenly fit to burst with love. It warms him up from the inside out, and Aaron finds himself grinning as he washes her hair and then her body, paying no mind to the ache in his knees.

Splashes of water find their way onto his clothes as Elizabeth chatters on, aided by Aaron’s soft replies. He’s about to drain the water when she surges forward into the bubbles, half her face dipping under the surface.

“Woah, careful, there.” Aaron murmurs, a small surge of panic spiking his heart rate. He secures his hands under her arms and sits her up, her hazel eyes bright when they meet his.

She surfaces with a bubble beard.

Aaron blinks for a moment before he bursts out laughing. They escape from deep in his belly, joyful laughs that echo through the tiles and make his eyes crinkle at the corners. 

Elizabeth erupts into matching giggles as Aaron clutches his stomach, his chest heaving with staccatoed breaths. His daughter looks exceptionally pleased with herself, slapping her hands in the water as she grins at him brightly, the cloudy water soaking more of his clothes. Her teeth peek out between the bubbles and send Aaron into fits of laughter again.

“Hi.” She giggles breathlessly. The bubbles drip down her chin, into the water below.

Her first—and only—word was hi.

“Hi.” Aaron agrees, still chuckling as he wipes the bubbles off. He blinks tears from his eyes and taps Lizzie’s nose. “Silly girl. Time to get out?”

She gives him a non-answer.

His knees ache by the time they leave the bathroom, his slacks and shirt damp with sudsy bath water. Elizabeth is slippery in his arms, wrapped in a pink towel with the hood slipping down her face. Aaron adjusts it, only then noticing that you’re not in bed. 

He frowns as he walks out of your room, finding you in the hallway.

He would cross his arms if not for the child tucked into his elbow. “Why aren’t you resting?”

You roll your eyes. “I was checking on Jack.” Getting closer, you kiss Lizzie’s damp cheek.

“Is he okay?”

“Mmhmm, just knocked over the shampoo bottle. Scared the shi—” Aaron clears his throat, “—he scared me,” you amend, smiling sheepishly at your toddler. “Sorry, baby,” you kiss her small fist, “Mommy needs some sleep.”

“Go get it then,” Aaron chides. “I’ve got the kids, go.” He nudges you back to your room.

“You didn’t, really, if you were only with one of them.” You say, even as you oblige.

Aaron rolls his eyes. “I do now.” He looks down at Elizabeth, “Don’t I, Lizzie?”

She just blinks.

By the time he dresses her in her pajamas and goes to check on Jack, his son is done with the shower. He’s dressed in his spider man pajamas and is back in front of the TV, rapidly clicking the controller in his hand.

“Did you wash between your toes?” Aaron asks, gently ruffling his damp blonde hair. Elizabeth plops down next to him on the floor, her eyes glued to the TV.

“Uh-huh,” Jack says. “And I brushed my teeth, too.”

Aaron chuckles. “Good job.” He kisses his forehead. “Bedtime in twenty minutes, okay?”

Jack pouts. He pauses the game and looks up at Aaron pleadingly. “It’s Friday tomorrow.”

“So?”

“It’s the day of the weekend, so it won’t matter if I’m tired ’cause it’s the weekend after, too.” Jack reasons. 

It’s not the most sound logic, but Aaron gives him an A for trying. 

“But what if you’re tired at school?” He asks, holding back a smile when Jack frowns at the question.

He gives it a bit of thought, but then shrugs. “I won’t be.”

Aaron laughs softly. “Thirty minutes,” he says, and Jack’s face brightens.

“Thank you!” He beams, turning back to the game.

“But if you’re tired in the morning, I don’t wanna hear it.”

“I won’t be,” Jack vows.

Aaron hums but he gives it up, settling down on the floor behind Elizabeth to brush her damp hair. It takes the better part of fifteen minutes to gather her hair into a tiny braid, Aaron’s fingers nowhere near nimble and the one-year-old too wriggly as she follows Jack’s game with her head rather than just her eyes. In the brief minute where Jack pauses his game so Aaron can brush his own damp hair, she gets a hold of his controller and has the time of her life.

After he pops his head in to check on you—and, finding you awake, lets Elizabeth give you a goodnight kiss—he takes her into the nursery and dims the lights. The bath water on Aaron’s clothes begins to dry as he tells her one story, then two, then gets through a third before his daughter is asleep in her crib.

Aaron picks up the baby monitor and kisses her forehead before he leaves, an ache in his bones as he heads to the living room. It’s a good ache, he thinks as he coaxes Jack to turn off the game and goes up with him to his bedroom, settling in the chair next to his bed with Charlie and the Chocolate Factory in hand. A different ache than the sort he gets from a strenuous day in the field; this time it’s his left arm still strained from holding Lizzie over the dishwasher, his knees tender from kneeling at the tub and the stabbing low in his back from the uncomfortable chair next to Jack’s bed.

But it’s the ache of his children, and this one he’s more than happy to bear.

Aaron opens the page where the bookmark is nestled—chapter 20—and he starts reading.

“Mr. Wonka led the party over to a gigantic machine...”

[moonstruckme]

could i req any marauder finding r’s sh scars and being loving about them? going through hell rn. it’s okay if u cant, love u mae

Wishing you all the best sweetheart, hope you're doing what you can to support yourself and let others around you support you too <33

cw: past self harm

modern au

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

“Did his wife cheat on him?”

“Why would you think that?” 

“I mean, if not, why does the mother-in-law hate her so much?” 

Remus shrugs, a secret smile playing on the edge of his mouth. His knuckles run over the skin of your shoulder idly as he keeps his eyes on the laptop screen. “Suppose you’ll have to wait and see.” 

You huff a laugh. “What’s the point of watching with someone who’s already seen it if you won’t tell me anything?” 

“It’s only ever really fun for the person who’s already seen it. I get to watch you go through the agonies I did.” 

“The agonies.” You roll your eyes, leaning deeper into his side. You could be a bit more convincing about holding this against him, but Remus’ bed is almost as comfortable as Remus himself, and you’ve found it impossible to pretend at being any less smitten with him than you really are. He sees right through you every time. “If you’d mentioned the agonies in your pitch, I might not have agreed to this.” 

“You’ll like it,” he promises, leaning back on you in turn, your shoulder pushing into his arm. 

The two of you are having the laziest of afternoons. What had started as a coffee date had turned into a trip to the bookstore across the street and then a walk in a park, and when it had gotten too warm out for the both of you Remus had invited you over for lunch and somehow you’ve ended up here, sitting on his bed in a borrowed pair of sweatpants while you watch a film on his laptop and he touches you like you’re a fascination he’d like to spend years studying. 

It’s an indolent, distracted sort of touching. Almost like he’s mapping you out in his subconscious, so that someday he’ll know you by instinct and memory but he’s in no hurry to get there. Like he’s got time. It’s also hypnotic. As captivating as Remus’ film selection is, you’re having a difficult time keeping up with the plot when your eyelids are so, so heavy. 

His knuckles stroke over your neck, the bare skin of your collarbone, down the slope of your shoulder. You don’t realize your shirt has slipped off the top of your arm until he does.

You freeze, Remus doesn’t. His fingers continue to graze lightly over the neat rows of scars, slowing as though losing momentum. You close your eyes. 

Emotion rises like a gag reflex in your throat. Apprehension and shame and a guilt you don’t quite understand. Like you’re wrong for ever having had the audacity to hurt, like this is something you’re doing to him, somehow, even though it’s long over and was only ever a misguided attempt at making yourself feel better. It’s nonsensical, and you feel it anyway. 

Remus is quiet for a long while. 

His touch moves back up your shoulder, to unmarred skin and safer territory. He asks, “You okay?” 

You swallow. “You mean, like, presently?”

“Yeah.” There’s the faintest hint of teasing in Remus’ voice. He sweeps his thumb over the back of your neck, an attempt at soothing you. “Or in general, whatever suits you.” 

“Yeah, I’m okay.” 

“I’m sorry if I overstepped just now. I didn’t know.”

“No…no, you’re alright. I wasn’t…” You rub your lips together, taking in what you hope is a subtle breath through your nose. “You’re fine.” 

“Does it bother you to think about them?” he asks. You can feel him looking at you, now, but you keep your eyes on the screen. It’s the only way for you to have this conversation. 

“Not really. It was just something I did for a while, you know?” 

“Yeah,” he says softly. “Yeah, that makes sense.” 

You sit there for another quiet minute, you watching the movie and Remus watching you. The coil of apprehension in you starts to loosen. Your breaths come easier. 

“Sorry,” you say, not bothering to force lightness into your tone, “I didn’t mean to spring that on you. It’s not a secret, but it’s not something that tends to come up, like, casually.” 

“No, hey, you’re fine.” Remus sounds serious enough that you turn to look at him, and you find him with a hard notch between his brows, a surprised sort of frown on his lips. “If anyone sprung anything, it was me. You haven’t done anything wrong. I don’t imagine it’s an easy subject to broach.” 

“It’s not a big deal to me anymore.” You’re beginning to sound almost as if you’re pleading with him. 

“Alright.” 

“And it was a long time ago now.” 

“It’s okay, love.” 

“I just know people sometimes get freaked out, and I don’t want you to worry—” 

“Hey.” There’s a tenderness to Remus’ voice as he cuts you off. His honey-toned eyes are soft. “It’s okay. Can I hug you?” 

You nod mutely. The hand currently resting by your neck slips down to hug your ribs, and his other arm comes around your front, palming your bare upper arm. He rubs up and down comfortingly, seemingly mindless of the faint lines under his touch. 

Remus’ lips touch to your hair. When he pulls you tighter against him, it feels almost like you’re rocking. “You’re alright,” he murmurs, to you, to himself. “You’re alright.” 

“Sorry,” you whisper, self-conscious now of your nervous blithering and slightly stunned by the way he’s touching you. 

“For what, sweetheart? Don’t be sorry. If you want to talk about it—about anything—I will always want to hear it, but you don’t owe me any explanation, alright?” 

“Yeah.” Your lungs deflate a little, a relief you hadn’t known you needed. “Thanks.” 

“Don’t thank me, either.” Remus is teasing again, the press of his lips to your hair at once firm and fond. He lets you go but keeps his arm around your waist, dropping his head to rest on yours again. “You’re just fine, yeah?” 

“Yeah.” You snuggle into his side, somehow safer than before. “I’m good. I’ve been good.” 

His thumb sweeps over your side. “And you can tell me if you’re ever not. You’re perfect regardless.”  

[luxaofhesperides]

“You know, I never realized how true the ‘eyes are the windows to your soul’ thing was until I saw yours.” + fluff + cafe AU ; requested by @kiv1!

He’s sure Danny didn’t expect to see him every other day after he casually mentioned that he had gotten a part time job at a local cafe. However, as his friend, it is Duke’s moral duty to only get coffee from that shop while Danny is on shift, specifically to annoy him. 

Also, so he can support his friend, but being annoying takes priority.

It’s a routine now, for both of them. Danny clocks in for his shift and an hour later Duke is strolling into the cafe with his eyes locked on Danny’s. The rest of the baristas always shove Danny up to the register when they see Duke, taking over whatever order he was making. Even some of the other regulars turn their attention up to the counter, hoping for another few minutes of entertainment.

Danny sighs as he gets ready to input Duke’s order. It’s never the same one, because Duke would hate to be predictable and make things easier for Danny, but it has the side effect of making him realize that some of the expensive, seasonal drinks are really good. 

It’s a bit hard on his wallet, but it’s a price he’s willing to pay for teasing Danny. 

“Hey,” he greets cheerfully as he leans against the counter, grinning at Danny.

Danny sighs again. “What can I get you today, random customer that keeps bothering me.”

“A latte, but make it sweet somehow. And iced.”

“What size would you like?”

“Let’s go with medium today.”

“Anything else?”

“Yeah.” Duke leans closer to Danny, watching as he fights down a smile. “I just gotta say that you got gorgeous eyes. You know, I never realized how true the ‘eyes are the window to your soul thing’ was until I saw yours.”

Danny considers this for a moment, then shakes his head. “It kind of sounds like your trying to steal my soul through my eyes.”

“Why is that what your mind goes to?”

“Well. I watched Coraline last night.”

Duke stares at Danny, taking in the dark circles under his eyes. “...Didn’t you say that movie gave you nightmares as a kid?”

“Yeah! And it turns out, it gives me nightmares even now!”

“And ruined my pick up line,” Duke complains playfully.

“It was too cheesy anyways,” Danny replies, putting Duke’s order into the screen. It prints a moment later, no doubt with some bizarre name since Danny refuses to actually name Duke on his orders, and then recites the price. 

He pays and watches as Danny slaps the order onto a medium sized up, then tosses it over to the barista making the drinks. He’s not actually sure what her name is since she refuses to wear a name tag, but she always gives him a wave and also a rating of how good his pick up lines are.

“Seven out of ten!” she calls out to him today, then gets started on making his drink.

“I don’t see why you don’t flirt with anyone else,” Danny says, “I’m pretty sure my coworkers like your pick up lines even more than they like me.”

“Why would I want to flirt with them? Danny, I’m literally only here to bother you.”

Danny rolls his eyes. “Yeah, trust me, I know. My good looks just keep pulling in business.”

He says it like a joke, but it’s true. Duke has noticed it. Danny’s coworkers have noticed it. His manager noticed it and now has him out on the floor every shift. If they can get him to work on the chalkboard sign outside, or wipe down the two tables out front, then they do it, because Danny is Midwestern to his core and it’s very charming in a place like Gotham. He smiles at people as they walk by, happily answers their questions when they ask him what the cafe serves, recommends food and drinks for them, is generally a bright and nice person to everyone who comes near the cafe. 

His cute looks draw people in, then his personality makes them stay. 

It’s all customer service, of course, because Duke never gets the cute, sunny Danny. He’s left with the sarcastic, rude, and funny Danny that’s been his friend since they met in junior year of high school. 

“Your eyes are really pretty, though,” Duke says, “Very blue. Sometimes green. It’s no wonder people keep falling for you!”

Danny reaches across the counter to shove Duke away, but he’s blushing, so Duke is counting it as a win. “Shut up. Now you’re just lying. My eyes are never green.”

“Yes, they are. Danny, I’ve seen them multiple times. They’re green sometimes.”

“No? My eyes have literally only ever been blue. They’re the bluest blue to ever blue. They don’t just turn green.”

They squint at each other for a long moment, trying to figure out who’s wrong and in what way. Duke’s pretty sure Danny’s wrong, since he can’t exactly see his own eyes, and Duke has spent an embarrassing amount of time just admiring how nice they are in different kinds of light. But also, they are Danny’s eyes, so he should know what color they are.

Then Danny’s coworker is setting down Duke’s drink on the pick up counter, giving Danny an excuse to get back to work.

“One medium oatmeal cookie iced latte for Cornelius Aggravating Douglas.” He holds up the drink and makes very direct eye contact with Duke, holding out the drink towards him.

“Did you really have to make the initials ‘Cad’?”

“Yes.”

“Fair enough,” Duke says, making Danny crack a smile. 

“Are you heading out after this?”

Duke grabs a straw and sticks it into his latte, swirling it around some. “That was the plan, yeah. Got a few library books to pick up. Why?”

“I got approval for a half shift today, so I’m off in like ten minutes, if you wanna wait for me.”

“Hell yeah, dude! I’ll wait outside so I don’t distract you with my flirtatious winks again.”

“Get out of here,” Danny laughs. Duke lifts his drink in a quick toast, then gets out of there. He takes a seat at one of the tables out front, content to just people watch as he slowly sips his latte.  

It’s cloudy out, but not raining, which is always a plus. As much as he’d like to see the sun, these kinds of days aren’t so bad, either. The wind still carries a bit of a chill, but the spring is steadily warming things up. There are tons of people out, a constant rush of movement, but a few do catch sight of him, then look towards the cafe, their steps slowing down as they think. Most keep walking, but Duke does manage to get a few to go in just by taking a long sip of his latte to really enjoy it.

Really, he should be getting compensated for the work he’s doing to draw people in. Danny’s not the only one who can do it. 

Bruce keeps offering him money, so he doesn’t need to get paid, but maybe he can convince the other employees to talk Danny into accepting one of his pick up lines so they can go on a date one of these days. 

It’s become a bit of a joke, but the first time Duke used a cheesy pick up line on Danny, he was being absolutely serious about it. He definitely shouldn’t have used a pick up line he found from a website centered on relationship advice, but he panicked and needed some extra help. 

Instead of smoothly asking Danny out on a date, Duke froze up, blurted out the pick up line, then had to laugh it off with Danny and pretend it was a joke. 

He still wishes he was able to ask Danny out properly before, but he’s also glad that they got to spend more time as friends, getting to know each other. It’s easier to be with him now, no longer so tongue tied and flustered. 

Duke gets to fluster Danny now, which is much better. 

And maybe one day his pick up lines will work! Sooner or later Danny’s going to question why he keeps doing this, and then he’ll connect the dots and understand what Duke feels for him.

As it is, he has yet to connect shit. 

“My eyes are definitely blue,” Danny says as he walks out of the cafe, messenger bag slung over his shoulder. “I checked while I was putting my apron away.”

“You’re still on that?”

“They’re blue.”

Duke gestures for Danny to come closer. He complies and leans down, letting Duke cup his face in his hands. He checks, considers, then checks again, and says, “They are indeed blue.”

“Told you they weren’t green,” Danny says smugly, pulling back. 

“And I said they were green sometimes. Now clearly isn’t one of those times, but they do turn green!”

“I don’t think you should be allowed to say any eye-related pick up lines until you admit that you were wrong and didn’t know my eye color.”

Shaking his head, Duke stands up and pushes in his chair. “Just wait, I’ll catch it sometime and prove it to you.”

“Sure, whatever. Don’t you have library books to get?”

“Yeah, you coming with?”

“Obviously. Why else would I leave my wonderful job where I am left alone to make drinks in peace?” Danny knocks his shoulder against Duke playfully, then reaches over and steals his drink right out of his hand. He takes a sip, makes a pleased hum, and drains half of what was left in the cup. 

“Hey!” Duke moves to take it back, which is naturally the exact moment Danny takes off running, effortlessly dodging everyone else on the sidewalk. He takes off after Danny, using his powers to make sure he can move out of the way of anything or anyone who gets in his path. 

They’re past the block when Danny starts to slow down, taking another sip of Duke’s latte. 

He puts on a final burst of speed and all but tackles Danny into the mouth of an alley, reaching for his cup. “Gotcha!”

“No!” Danny wails dramatically. He takes a step back and Duke watches as his power kicks up again, showing him a vision of Danny stepping on an empty can and falling back. Except he doesn’t really fall back? His foot rolls back on the can for a second, then goes through the can and settles back onto the ground where he catches his balance. Through the entire three second fall, Danny’s eyes are a bright green, brighter than Duke’s ever seen them.

His vision fades away and he moves to catch Danny, taking the chance to watch carefully as Danny’s foot does indeed go through the can. He quickly brings his gaze up to Danny’s eyes, which are green, but not inhumanly bright like they were in his vision.

Is the green not perceptible to normal humans?

He can probably only see it due to his powers. Which means he somewhat inadvertently outed himself as a meta.

Whoops!

Might as well just bite the bullet.

“Hey, do you have powers?” 

Danny chokes, shoving Duke away as he coughs and tries to clear his throat. He looks panicked, wild-eyed, searching for an escape route. “What? No. Why would I have powers? Maybe you have powers, have you ever considered that?”

“I mean. I do have powers. That’s why I’m asking.”

“Hold up. Stop talking. You have powers?”

“And your eyes are green sometimes.”

“That’s. No, they’re not,” Danny lies. It’s a very bad lie, seeing how on edge he is, and as much as Duke hates making Danny feel like that, he did get some bad habits while training with Bruce and this is one of them: the need to keep pushing, chasing after clear answers regardless of what the cost is. 

Duke shrugs, taking a sip of his latte, down to its last few mouthfuls, acting casual. “If you say so. But my powers don’t lie, man. As much as I wish they would, sometimes.”

“...Can we not do this out here?” The defeated tone Danny speaks with makes Duke hate himself. But he needs answers now. He needs to know if Danny is like him, if he’s safe, if he needs help. He needs it more than he needs Danny to like him at all. 

“Sure. I know a few quiet places we can talk.”

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Danny mutters. “Did my eyes really give it away?”

“Yeah. I mean, to be fair, I also didn’t realize until literally right now, so I don’t think anyone else will figure it out just from staring into your eyes.”

“See, this is what happens when you keep flirting when you don’t mean it. Secrets get pulled out into the open and it’s bad for everyone!”

Duke lightly punches Danny’s arm, trying to lift the mood. “Hey, who said I didn’t mean it?”

“What?”

“Who said I didn’t mean it when I flirt with you?”

Danny blinks at him, confused, then says, “I mean, no one I guess. But it’s pretty obvious?”

“I only flirt with you, you know.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Duke says, trying to ignore how his voice shakes slightly. “There’s another one of my secrets. Can we call it even now?”

“Oh!” The shock of the revelation distracts Danny from his earlier nerves. Which is great, because now Duke is the one who’s nervous. It’s worth it, though, seeing the pretty blush come to bloom on Danny’s cheeks. “So all those pick up lines—”

“Yeah.”

“And the pick up line made you realize my powers!” 

“These pick up lines are doing the most,” Duke agrees. And then he realizes, “Hey, you what this means? I was right! Your eyes are windows to your soul!”

“I’m going to hit you,” Danny says, already winding back for a solid punch. He lets Danny hit him since it’s only fair for the stress he caused; as a meta, Duke knows how important secrecy is, how the difference between life and death can be just how well his powers are hidden. 

“Are we even now?”

Danny considers him for a moment, then sighs. “Yeah, I guess. Let’s be done with this for now, okay? Let’s go to the library.”

He refuses to entertain any conversation about powers or Duke’s feelings for him. It’s nice to spend time with Danny, but by the end, Duke is sure he can feel his heart start to crack in half. A sleepless night awaits him when he gets home, moving past his cousin’s attempts to talk to him in favor of flopping face down onto his bed.

But the next day, Danny grins at him when he walks into the cafe. He doesn’t have a new pick up line, choosing instead to act as calm and casual as possible to give Danny some space.

Also breaking routine, Danny insists on personally making Duke’s drink, writing something onto the cup before he fills it up with a floral tea. 

You’re so fine, you made me forget my pick up line, is scrawled on the side of his cup when he gets it. 

“Enjoy your drink, Cutiepie the Third,” Danny says with a shy smile.

“The Third?” Duke repeats, relief making him feel lighter than air, “Who are the first two?”

“Don’t worry about it, cutie. Get to class!”

Duke lets Danny chase him out, and holds in his laugh when he hears Danny’s coworker screech, “What was that?!”

Yeah, they’ll be fine. In the meantime, Duke needs to see if apology pick up lines are thing. Danny definitely deserves one.

[perlelune]

Happier Than Ever | Rafe Cameron

Loving Rafe was a rollercoaster you could never get off of. Sometimes thrilling, but mostly terrifying. And some way, somehow, he always found a way to draw you back in for another ride.

Warnings: DUB-CON, NON-CON, Drug Addiction, Drunk Driving, Kook! Reader, Toxic Relationship, Abuse, Emotional Blackmail, Suicidal Talk

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

You smile as Marissa tells her story once more. No matter how many times you hear it, it never gets old.

“Who does that? I mean he didn’t even have his driving license. I was so embarrassed-”

The rest of the girls in the circle you formed in the living room gasp. You nurse your beer before taking another sip. You take a bite of the birthday cake, humming in appreciation of the cinnamon and pineapple undertones. For a minute, you soak it all in. The soft pop pouring from the speakers in your friend’s living room. The casual chatter between friends.

You fold your legs beneath yourself, enjoying your cake in a corner of the couch.

It’s been a while since you’ve been able to enjoy a night like this. Quiet and calm. Not since your breakup. Spending time with your friends always fell to the wayside in your previous relationship, your ex finding issues with how much time you spend with them instead of him. It wasn’t uncommon for you to drop everything whenever he called. Girls’ night outs. Sleepovers. Even birthdays, like today.

He was the sun around which your entire life orbited and he couldn’t stand anything or anyone stealing your attention away. It took you a long time to leave. More than you’re comfortable admitting.

It’s not like things were bad all the time. In fact, most of the time, they were good. Not just good. They were great. So great you easily forgave and forgot. Forgot about the tears. Forgot about the rough hands on your skin. Forgot about the cruel words. Forgot about the screaming and nights lying awake, wondering what you did wrong for him to be so angry at you again.

He was a magician. With the right words and that twinkle in his ocean gaze, he could make all the hurt vanish. Like none of it was ever there to begin with. The same eyes that made you feel small could make your stomach flutter. The same mouth that would praise you could tear you down as easily.

Your heart was never at rest, as you never knew which version of him you’d get on a particular day. The sweet and kind version. Or the paranoid and volatile one.

So many little things could set him off. A throwaway comment from his dad. An argument with his sister. Some stranger's gaze resting on you half a second too long. 

Nothing you did could ever get that chip off his shoulder. No amount of care, patience or love could ever reassure him enough. It was exhausting, which is why you left. Well, more like…ran away. Avoided his side of the island. Ghosted him. Hid away really. 

It’s been a few weeks now. You are slowly retrieving some semblance of peace in your life. It’s easier when he’s not around. Easier to breathe. Easier to move around.

Marissa turns to you.

“I’m so happy that you could make it.”

You beam at her. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

She pauses, her fingers tapping the side of her beer bottle.

“You did last year,” she points out. 

You tense. Last year. You never even told her what that was about. You were dressed up and ready and he stopped you on your way out, questioning why you were looking this good for “just some chicks’ get-together”. You shudder as the memory flashes through your brain. Needless to say you never made it to your friend’s party.

“Yeah…sorry about that,” you mumble, scratching your arm.

She smiles in reassurance, squeezing your arm.

“It’s okay. But no more missing my birthday, okay?”

“Okay, promise,” you reply, nodding.

The conversation is halted by the buzzing of your phone. Your chest clenches at the sight of the familiar name across the screen. Marissa steals a glimpse from across the couch and tilts her head in disapproval. The two of them were oil and water, never getting along. In fact, she got in his face quite a few times. And he seemed to enjoy riling her up even more.

“Don’t answer that.” She nudges your shoulder. “I already told you, you need to block him.”

In theory, you know you should sever all ties. But you haven’t found the nerve to cross that bridge yet. Sending him straight to voicemail and leaving him on read is the height of what you can achieve right now. Besides, you shudder to think how he’d react to you blocking him. He damn near broke your door down the day after you texted him that you two were over.

“It could be important…” You get to your feet, stepping away from the couch and your friend’s critical stare. “I’m just gonna tell him to stop. I’ll be right back.”

You head to the balcony. You inhale a lungful of courage before swiping to accept the call. 

“Hey, angel. Miss me?” Rafe slurs drunkenly. 

Your brows knit. “You shouldn’t drive when you’re like this, Rafe.”

He barks out a derisive laugh. “You hear this shit, bro? Acting like she cares about me all of sudden.”

Your chest twinges, his words hurting more than they should.

Another familiar voice faintly echoes in the background. 

“Is that Topper?”

Your frown deepens. They both sound too inebriated to be driving anyone home, let alone themselves.

As you ponder if you should call Sarah or Ward, a crashing sound echoes through the phone, the boys’ laughter dying. Your stomach drops. 

“Rafe?” you call. 

You frantically text him. When you get no response, you try Topper. He doesn’t pick up immediately. 

At least twenty minutes slog by in terrifying silence.

Chewing on your thumb, you wait for the call to reach him.

When you finally hear his voice, relief seeps through you. If he’s fine, then Rafe must also be, right?

But your hopes are swiftly pulverized when he informs you that Rafe is being transported to the hospital. Panic flutters through you. You don’t want to care. You and him aren’t together anymore. It’s not your problem…Except it is. You can’t quell the worry pooling in your gut, the racing of your heart at the thought that Rafe could be hurt. Or worse.

Anxiously rubbing your hands, you head back to the living room. Marissa won’t like what you have to say, but dread has wrapped its fist around your heart since you heard that horrifying sound on the other end of the line, and hasn’t eased up since. The not knowing is worse than anything.

Noting the contrite pinch to your face, your friend heaves out a deep exhale.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to see him,” she says.

You chew on your lip. You know how this looks. Like you’re that girl who picks a guy over her friends again. Still, you remind yourself it’s not like the other times. You aren’t together anymore. You’re over him. You’re way past that. You’re just making sure he’s safe.

“I think something happened. Something really bad.”

Marissa shrugs and takes a swig of her beer. You try to ignore her and your other friend’s pointed stares. Their quietness speaks volumes, the weight of their judgment bearing heavily in the room.

“He always does that. Who knows if he didn’t do it on purpose.”

“You mean crashed his car on purpose? Marissa, come on…”

She tosses her head backwards, rolling her eyes in exasperation.

“Whatever. I’m used to you bailing.” She glances at her freshly painted nails. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Her accusation aches but you shove it aside. You bid everyone goodbye and grab your keys from the lobby. 

The entire drive your heart is in your throat, your clammy hands tight around the wheel.

The worst scenarios keep playing in your head like a horrible nightmare. The picture of Rafe, a white sheet draped over his unmoving body, won’t stray from your raging thoughts. Why do you feel like this is your fault? He always had troubles with overindulging in liquor and other party favors. It’s something the two of you often argued about. But he had gotten better about it lately, before the breakup. He’d thrown away the drugs, eased up on the drinking. He was better. It’s part of why leaving felt okay.

Your eyes well up with tears. You wipe them in frustration, focusing on the dark road ahead. 

Sucking a wide breath, you remind yourself. You’re not responsible for Rafe. None of this is your fault.

Still, as you pull into the hospital’s driveway, guilt lingers within you.

Thanks to Topper’s instructions, you find Rafe’s room quickly.

You’re a breathless mess when you arrive, having raced through the white corridors. Sarah and Wheezie hug you as soon as they see you. You return it, having missed them in the last few weeks. You had come to think of the youngest of the Cameron siblings as the little sister you never had. You often went out to have ice cream while she told you of the gossip from her school. As for Sarah, the two of you go way back. While not the closest, you’ve been in the same circles since kindergarten. The puffiness of her brown eyes doesn’t escape you. While there’s no love lost between her and her big brother, she seems as shaken as you are.

Ward greets you with a nod. Meeting his gaze is difficult. He always told you you were a good influence on his son. A good girl from a good family. That you were exactly what Rafe needed to set himself straight and finally grow up. You can tell from the way his blue eyes are trained on you that Ward is a little disappointed, that he expected you to stick it out through the storm with his son. The people-pleaser inside you shrinks a bit at that.

Rose at least appears to empathize with your plight, flashing you a quick smile. She too seems to have cried, which stuns you the most. It’s no secret she and Rafe have never gotten along.

The Camerons make space for you to tiptoe further inside the room.

You take shaky steps towards Rafe. It hurts seeing him like that, hunched over at the edge of the bed in a hospital gown. While he’s not attached to tubes and wires, your chest seizes as you note the sling around his left arm, his busted lip and the long cut running across his brow.

“We’ll leave you two alone,” Ward says, gesturing at his daughters to vacate the room.

Silence hangs for a while after the rest of the Cameron clan leaves, giving you and Rafe privacy. Eyes clinging to the floor, you girdle your breath until he speaks.

“You came.”

You look up, Rafe’s cool tone startling you. You approach him.

“Of course I came.”

The muscles of his jaw clench.

“You didn’t have to,” he says curtly.

You cup his cheek, “Rafe-”

He slaps your hand away, his eyes rolling back as he unleashes a heavy sigh.

“Don’t,” he snaps. He sniffs and chuckles but it lacks humor. “I don’t even know why you’re here. You don’t give two shits about me.”

Disbelief strikes you. How could Rafe utter such words after everything you’ve been through together?

Your brows furrow as you graze his arm, whispering softly, 

“That’s not true, Rafe and you know it.”

“Do I?” He taps his temple with his healthy arm, stammering angrily, “C-Cause I had so many thoughts in my head when you left…”

“Rafe-”

“I know we weren’t perfect but I thought we were pretty happy, y’know?” 

A surge of tears presses beneath your lashes.

“We were.” You pause and take a deep breath. “Sometimes. But you weren’t…” Your lip quakes as you’re hit with the remembrance of how bad his mood swings were. You rub your neck, the phantom sensation of Rafe’s fingers squeezing it tight sizzling your flesh. Your voice comes out small. “We weren’t good for each other, Rafe.”

He bites his bottom lip and slowly releases it before sneering, “Bet you’d have preferred if I died tonight, get it all over with.”

“What? How can you even say that?” you say, your pitch spiking with shock.

“Y’know maybe I should…Maybe I should just get my dad’s gun, blow my fucking brains out and stop being such a burden to you.”

He mimics the gesture of shooting a gun through his skull and tears spill over your cheek.

You cradle his face.

“Don’t say things like that, Rafe. Please…” you sob.

“What else am I supposed to say, huh? You left me. Bet you think I’m a fuckup too. Just like my dad.”

“I don’t think that.”

“I wanted to die.”

“Rafe.”

His watery gaze dives into yours.

“When you left, I wanted to fucking die.”

Your breath falters.

“Being without you is hell, angel.” Desperation oozes from his voice. “I just wanted to feel…I don’t know, anything else.” He buries his face in his hand, mumbling under his breath, “I-I don’t know how much more of this shit I can take.”

Your heart sinks. You never imagined breaking up with Rafe would send him in such a state. A wave of guilt consumes your insides. Perhaps it was selfish, taking your distance the way you did. 

You place your hand on his shoulder. “I didn’t know things were this bad for you. I’m sorry.”

He snorts. “I mean, how could you? It’s not like you answer when I call.”

The air chills around you. Your lips clamp shut at that, your head lowering. You did ignore all of Rafe’s calls. And now you find yourself wondering if there were cries for help, if he was drowning and needed you to pull him ashore. If you had picked up, just once, maybe he wouldn’t be here right now. 

The doctor comes in and you step back. Rafe is thankfully cleared, presenting no concussion or major injuries besides his broken arm. You meet Topper outside and are relieved to find him in much better shape than your ex. Outside of a nasty scrape on his cheek, he’s completely unharmed. 

“Were you drunk too?” you can’t help but ask him.

“I…Yeah, but I wasn’t the one driving.” Topper hesitates, nervous as his eyes meet yours. “Rafe, he…he took some other stuff at the party.”

“I figured,” you sigh.

“He just kept driving faster the more he ranted about you.”

Your chest clenches. You glower at him.

“You’re supposed to be his friends, you and Kelce. You’re supposed to look out for him.”

“I’m sorry,” he replies.

Your gaze darts around the hospital corridor.

“Where’s Kelce, anyway?”

Topper scratches the back of his neck.

“He…passed out in a bush at the party.”

Your shoulders sag. Typical Kook shenanigans. Not one of those boys could actually behave responsibly. All they ever do is enable each other and egg each other on to do stupid shit. Then they let someone else clean up their mess. Fatigue settles over you. You’ve been here before. 

You glance at your phone. It’s beyond late. You walk up to Ward.

“I should probably go back home now. I only wanted to check on Rafe, make sure he's okay."

Crossing his arms, the Cameron patriarch astounds you when he utters, “Why don’t you stay at Tannyhill tonight?”

You flash a nervous smile.

“Mr. Cameron, Rafe and I-”

“I know you two are broken up, and I get that.” He heaves out a weary sigh as he considers Rafe. “I know my son has…issues, sweetheart, but he always did better around you.” His piercing gaze travels from Rafe to you. “He hasn’t been doing well since you left him.”

You recline into silence. It’s been a while since you’ve seen Rafe look this defeated. It worries you. You have no desire to give him the wrong idea but you also don’t see yourself just going home after hearing the things he shared with you. While you don’t plan on getting back with him, you can’t just abandon him.

“Okay. But just for tonight,” you specify. 

Ward beams at you. “That's all I ask, sweetheart.”

You end up getting into a car with Ward, Rose and Rafe. Wheezie trails behind Sarah, as you let her borrow the keys of your truck to drive Topper back home. She promises to return them to you in the morning. A heavy quiet coats the air as you share the backseat with Rafe, his stepmom sitting in the front with Ward. He’s not even looking at you, his blue eyes glued to the window. Dejected, you twine your hands in your lap. You’re used to that, Rafe ignoring you when he’s upset. But tonight it stings even more, fueling the guilt simmering inside you.

As Ward’s car pulls into the long alley of the Cameron’s mansion, nostalgia tugs at your heart.

Tannyhill was practically a second home to you this past year. Your parents travel a lot for work and Rafe used to coax you into staying with him most nights, just so you’re not alone.

You don’t even think as you follow Rafe to his bedroom, your feet carrying you absently since you’ve done it so many times before.

You inspect the room. Nothing’s changed since the last time you were here.

He grimaces as he struggles to remove his clothes while wearing the sling.

“I can’t get this fucking shirt off,” Rafe grumbles.

You trudge up to him.

“Let me help you.”

Rafe observes you, falling strangely quiet while you slip off his shirt for him. Your cheeks heat when you do the same for his pants. 

When you’re done, you try to head for the door.

Rafe’s hand clutches yours, halting your departure.

“Stay… please, angel? You can wear one of my shirts like you used to.”

A forlorn expression decorates his features. Despite your best efforts, it tugs at your heartstrings.

You gnaw on your lip. “It’s probably best if I stay in the guest room.”

His thumb sweeps over the inside of your palm.

“I won’t try anything funny, I swear…if that’s what you’re worried about.” His brows draw together. “I’m just in so much pain, and I can barely move my arm.”

You unleash a resigned breath.

“You promise to stay on your side of the bed?” When a playful smile creeps on his lips, your tone sharpens. “Rafe, I’m only here as your friend. I’m serious.”

His gaze narrows, suspicion sneaking in his tone. “Why? You’re like seeing somebody now or some shit?”

“No, I’m not.” You pause before adding cheekily, “And even if I were, it’d be none of your business.”

His cheek pulses.

A flicker of jealousy ignites his gaze, indicating that, in Rafe’s opinion, who you're seeing now is still very much his business. But his features smooth over quickly, his voice mellowing.

“I’d just feel better if you slept next to me, angel. I don’t feel like I’m asking for much, am I?” He pauses before sneering, “Or do you hate my fucking guts so much that I can’t even ask for a little favor?”

“I don’t hate you, Rafe.”

He cocks his head, hope lacing his deep timbre.

“Really? You don’t?”

“I don’t think I could even if I tried,” you admit.

A wide grin blooms on his face at that. He curls his hand around your waist, pulling you a little closer. 

“Then prove it. Stay with me tonight.”

His blue eyes are honest, pleading. Your resolve thaws like ice in the summer heat. 

“Fine,” you yield. You gear yourself to leave, announcing, “I’ll go change in the bathroom.”

The hand on your waist tightens as he teases, “Why not here? It’s nothing I haven’t seen before-”

“Rafe,” you scold, prying his fingers off your waist.

He snickers, lifting his hand. “Sorry. Force of habit.”

A pang of melancholy pierces your chest when you pick one of Rafe’s shirts to wear in bed. It feels a little weird sharing a bed with him when you’re not together anymore.

When you step out of the bathroom, you steal a glance at him. The blanket only covers half of his body, exposing the bare, suntanned muscles of his chest. You ignore Rafe’s smirk as he catches your lingering gaze. Averting your eyes, you make your way to your side of the bed.

You slip under the covers, reassured that he’s respecting your wishes by giving you space. But it doesn’t last.

In the middle of the night, you’re forced to berate him for breaking the boundaries you set.

His good arm snakes around you, his broad chest draping over your back.

“Rafe…”

He nuzzles your neck from behind, humming as he basks in your smell. “Please, just let me have this,” he begs.

You sigh. You don’t have it in you to deny Rafe tonight. Not when he could have died. Not when you feel some responsibility for that. 

“Okay, but no wandering hands.”

He nods and snuggles even closer to you. You can’t help but grow a bit dizzy as the familiar scent of Rafe’s cologne clogs your senses.

You close your eyes and drift into sleep.

In the morning, you wake up to Rafe dragging his fingertips along your cheek, an entranced expression etched on his features.

“I missed waking up like this,” he rasps.

For a while, as you get lost in how bright and blue his eyes look in the soft morning glow, you forget. Remembrance settles over you however when Rafe’s thumb travels to your bottom lip. This is the kind of thing you can’t allow anymore.

Clearing your throat, you sit up and remove his hand from your face.

“Well don’t get used to it.”

Rafe’s brows crumple. “Ouch. When did you get so mean, angel?”

“I learnt it from you.”

He actually seems taken aback by that, speechless as he gapes at you.

His surprise allows you to make a beeline for the bathroom.

“Dibs on the first shower,” you chime, slamming the door closed before he can make another comment that sends your heart in a frenzy.

You use Rafe’s time away in the bathroom to focus on another task. A very important task. One you call the post-bender sweep. It’s a little tragic that you even have a name for it, or that you’ve had to do it so often. So you roll up your sleeves and begin rummaging through all of Rafe’s drawers. No corner of the room is left unchecked.

It’s how he finds you as he steps out of the shower, damp blonde locks grazing his forehead, the towel hanging low on his tapered waist. 

Confusion fills his cobalt eyes. 

“What are you doing?”

“I know you weren’t just drunk last night Rafe. Topper told me everything.”

“Fucking snitch,” Rafe hisses. He inches closer to you. “Look, I’m gonna get it together, alright?”

You crouch near the bed and reach under the mattress. Rafe’s face goes taut as you feel between the wooden slats. “Angel-”

Your fingers dislodge a plastic bag between the slats. You examine its insides. 

“Coke, expected. Well that…is new. Is that meth?” you list sourly. You wish you could say you were disappointed. Instead, you’re just exhausted and vaguely angry. This is a step back. A huge one. “This is poison, Rafe.”

You get to your feet and dash to the bathroom. As you empty every ounce of powder, crystals and every single pill into the toilet bowl, Rafe grips the side of his head. Panic flickers on his face.

“That’s 10k down the drain.”

“Well, Barry can go through me. I’m not letting you do this to yourself again.”

You flush the toilet and meet his eyes. Their intensity has you shifting in discomfort.

“What? Why are you staring at me like that?”

His lips slowly curve upward.

“You still care about me.”

Your heart skips a beat. You blink and shuffle away from the toilet. False hopes, you recall, you weren’t supposed to give them to him. You decide to steer him away from that line of thought.

“Of course I do,” you reply. “You’re my friend.”

Rafe’s smile vanishes. His tone becomes clipped. “Friends, huh? Okay.”

Your plans to only stay the night are thwarted at breakfast. After sharing a copious meal with the Camerons, Ward pulls you aside, practically begging you to prolong your presence at Tannyhill for his son’s sake. 

“You and I both know he needs you, sweetheart.”

At first, you’re hesitant. This wasn’t the plan. You’ve fought so hard against the instinct not to put Rafe’s needs and wants before your own. Tooth and nail quite frankly. The first week after your breakup, not picking up when he called made you physically ill.

You wept about it for days, and almost ran right back into his arms. Without your friends, you probably would have.

Now, your life’s back on track. You can breathe again. You’re happier. The crippling fear of what Rafe would say or think does not hover over your every move anymore.

When Sarah returns your truck’s keys, you consider driving yourself back home and never looking back. Your fingers curl around the keys. It’s right there beneath your palm, your freedom. But there’s just one tiny issue. Rafe’s misty eyes catch yours across the table. And in less than a second, you don’t belong to yourself anymore.

So you remain at Tannyhill much longer than you’d like, taking care of Rafe and spending nights in his arms. The ambiguity of the situation fosters doubts in your mind, threatening the fragile equilibrium you found.

So as soon as Rafe’s noticeably improved, you elect to go back home. One morning, you rise with the sun and start collecting all the things you left behind in his room. It’s imperative to create some distance between you and him again. After all, you’ve gone above and beyond. Initially, this was about checking on your friend. A blind man could see that Rafe wants more than that however. You fear things will spiral to a point of no-return if you don’t leave now. You did so well these last few weeks, getting over Rafe. Or trying to at least. Now all that hard work is on the rocks.

Displeasure paints Rafe’s features as he watches you shove as many of the stray objects you scattered in his space inside your bag. You ended things so abruptly the first time that you never bothered coming back to collect everything you left in Rafe’s room.

“Come on, you could stay a little longer,” he pleads.

“It’s time for me to go home, Rafe.”

“Then just stay the night. You can leave tomorrow.”

“Rafe, it’s been well over a week.”

He sucks his teeth, sniggering meanly, “That excited to be rid of me, huh?”

Your forehead creases.

“It’s not like that.”

Rafe scoffs, “Nah, I get it. You’ve moved on and you never want to see me again, right?”

“Rafe…”

His fingers thread through yours, drawing you back to him. Towering above you, he whispers, “It's just one night. It won’t be different from the other ones. I just want to be able to feel you one last time.”

You purse your lips. You could never say no to anything Rafe asks when he looks at you like that. Like you’re his lifeline, the only thing keeping his head above water. 

It's probably not a great idea. Rafe’s been getting handsier than you’d like these last few days, and you didn’t have the heart to push him away. But what’s one more night? You’ll be gone tomorrow anyways.

“Okay,” you concede.” But I’m really leaving tomorrow.”

A victorious grin breaks out on his face.

“Of course, angel.”

At first, your last night at Tannyhill does indeed seem like the others. You slip under the covers next to Rafe, as you’ve done every other night. His light snores fill the room, his arm finding its way around your waist. Like always. You’ve gotten used to this. You don’t protest, finding comfort in the knowledge you’ll be done with everything Rafe Cameron the next day.

So you let him get close once more. His heat encases you as he nestles his head in the crook of your neck. You don’t even give much thought to the thick bulge poking the small of your back. This is Rafe. He grows hard half the time when you cuddle. Usually, you get him to back off with a frown and a light shove on his chest.

But tonight’s different.

He starts rubbing against you, his hand sneaking below the shirt covering your body.

“Rafe? What are you doing?” you whisper, your voice high-pitched from shock.

“Shh, quiet, angel,” he hushes, trailing sloppy, heated pecks along your neck and shoulder.

“Rafe, you can’t…” Your voice dwindles to a gasp when his digits creep between under your ass, teasing your folds through your panties. He pinches your clit, rolling it between his fingertips. You bite down a sharp cry. 

“I said I wanted to feel you one last time, angel.”  

He shoves a finger inside your panties and sinks between your walls. The embarrassing squelching of your cunt echoes in the room, Rafe beginning to pump inside you at a steady pace. Naturally, he knows exactly how to move his fingers to turn you into a panting, shivering mess against him. You try to resist it, ignore the fire rising in your core, but your skin is easily set ablaze by Rafe’s familiar touch. Your belly knots. Tingles bloom on your flesh. He sweeps along your tender spots and you choke on your spit.

Heat gathers in your face as you grow slicker beneath Rafe’s hand.

He tugs on your panties, sliding them down your legs.

Rafe shifts position. He places himself above you and shimmies out of his boxers. Alarm bells ring inside your head when his thick tip prods at your entrance.

“Rafe…”

Words wither on your tongue as he buries his cock inside you in one blunt thrust. A quiet scream flies from your mouth, your chest heaving.

“Don’t be like this,” Rafe grunts, arrogance dripping from his lustful timbre. “I know you’ve been missing how my fat cock feels inside that tight little pussy, right?”

“We’re broken up, Rafe,” you wheeze out, struggling to catch your breath as your walls strain at his size.

“So?” He pulls out of you, only to sheathe himself inside your wet heat again. Your eyes roll back, your fingers clutching weakly at the sheets.

Rafe’s half-lidded gaze darkens as he drinks you in, his tone getting possessive.

“You’re in my bed, wearing my shirt. I’d say that makes you mine.”

The protests on your tongue evaporate, your thoughts dipping into a tailspin as Rafe slams his cock inside your dripping cunt. Desperation and lust marks each of his deep, pointed thrusts. Your head tosses over the pillows.

Stars fill your sight, pleasure swirling through your limbs. Air dwindles in your lungs as he stretches you out deliciously. His thick cock brushes against your sweet spot repeatedly and your lids flutter. Rafe’s own breaths grow more ragged. His throat bobs, his hard muscles clenching with his motions. He balances his arm above your head, looming over you as sweat dots on his brow.

His warm breath grazes your face as he chuckles.

“It’s like coming home, right? Like I never left.”

“I’m gonna get my shit together. I swear to you, angel.” He rests his forehead against yours. Rafe’s masculine scent floods your senses and your mind spins. You keen as he snaps his taut hips into yours, helpless as Rafe cages you with his frame. “Just don’t leave me again, okay? Please, I need you.”

Over the next few weeks, while his arm is healing, you and Rafe relapse into old habits. First, it’s that night at his house, the one that stirs your unease for a while. Then it’s a quickie in the back of his truck after he offers to drop you off one day. Progressively, it becomes more than that. Dates and late night calls, like before. 

Rafe complaining to you for hours about Sarah or the weight of his dad’s expectations. Rafe sending flowers to your doorstep. Rafe making butterflies swarm in your stomach when he tells you that you’re the only one who understands him.

The walls you erected crumble day by day, shattered by his persistence to win you back. He showers you with gifts and attention on a near daily basis now, even going as far as planning the most romantic evening for Valentine’s day. Though you had plans with your friends, Rafe is so adamant to have you all to himself that you ditch Galentine's day cocktails to be with him.

Slowly but surely, the Cameron heir weasels his way back into your heart. 

Most of your friends aren’t thrilled with your decision, of course. Marissa in particular.

“Guys like him don’t change,” she tells you one night as he’s blowing up your phone with texts inquiring about your whereabouts. You fervently disagree. He’s just worried about you, you convince yourself. That's how much he cares.

Of course Rafe has changed. He’s earning your trust, one day at a time. He has his temper in check. He’s better now. He’s proven it several times.

Doesn’t everyone deserve a second chance?

Besides, though you struggle to admit it, there’s something intoxicating about being Rafe Cameron’s girlfriend. A feeling so heady and electric. One you shamefully kind of missed.

You trust Rafe. Those are the words that keep playing in your mind as you wait for him downstairs. You fiddle with your solo cup, taking a tiny sip of your beer. Techno music blares from the speakers in Kelce’s living room. The girls next to you gossip about a crush on some guy you don’t know. You feign interest, giving a dull nod and a smile every now and then. Lavish, hedonistic Kook parties aren’t exactly your scene anymore. Rafe practically had to drag you here.

The initial plan was to meet with your friends tonight. But Rafe closed off when you told him that. He then pleaded with you to come. You caved in, because refusing him has been incredibly difficult since the accident. So you’ve stopped trying to argue with him. 

You go along with most of what he asks, even if it stirs your discomfort at times. 

You glance at the time on your phone. 

Rafe said he needed to go to the bathroom earlier. 

That was nearly thirty minutes ago. Your brows draw together. Taking a leak shouldn’t take that long in theory, right? Or are you this paranoid now?

Still, you can’t quell the dread tickling your insides. A sense of deja vu seeps through you.

Your feet carry you upstairs, guided by your urgent need to find Rafe. 

Kelce’s house is huge and you nearly get lost multiple times. Your cheeks flame as you stumble upon a couple in one of the guest rooms. You hastily apologize and slam the door shut, resuming your search. It takes you a long time of blind wandering through endless corridors before you find him. 

He’s indeed in a bathroom. At least that, he didn’t lie about…unlike the line of coke he’s snorting above the sink.

“Rafe?” you call, frozen on the doorstep. “What are you doing?”

A brief glimpse of panic flits across his face before he bursts out in laughter.

He makes his way to you and tilts your chin upward.

“It’s a party, I’m just having fun. You should try it sometime.”

You scowl at him. “That’s not the point. You promised...”

Rafe sniffs, wiping the remnants of white powder beneath his nose.

“Come on, just relax.” He crowds your space, placing his hands on each side of you on the door. It slams shut as Rafe presses his body against yours, his voice sinking to a lewd rasp. “Why don’t you and I get into the hot tub downstairs and…”

“No,” you assert. “You promised, Rafe. No more drugs.”

When he tries to cup your cheek, you shove his hand away. His jaw clenches.

“Why do you always have to be such a stuck up bitch?”

An astonished breath leaps off your throat.

“I’m sorry?”

Instead of apologizing, a broad grin stretches on his lips, “I’m just saying. Maybe you’re the one who needs to loosen up.”

You note the hollowness in Rafe’s eyes and the sweat glistening over his bare skin.

Tears rush to your eyes. You’ve learnt to recognize the signs. Empty promises, like always. Why did you expect things to be different this time?

You jump back from the door, slipping beneath Rafe’s arm. Wiping irate tears, you glare at him.

“This was a mistake. My friends were right. You’re never going to change.” 

You are such a fool. The depth of his deception didn’t hit you until you saw him bent over that sink. You caught him this time. Who knows how many times Rafe lied right to your face?

Once more, you allowed him to drag you into his spiral, offering no resistance and believing every sweet word and promise.

Closing your eyes, you suck in a deep breath. You think back to the last few weeks, to every time you surrendered an inch and Rafe took a mile. And you just let it happen. You land on a decision. This is the last time you let Rafe Cameron puppeteer his way back into your life.

You make a beeline for the exit. He impedes your path, towering over you as he stands before the door.

“Get out of my way, Rafe,” you hiss.

Rafe squints at you, taking slow, threatening steps towards you.

“Why? So you can leave me, again?” Something lurks in Rafe’s gaze, turning his blue eyes almost black. Chills crawl over your spine. You shrink, retreating as far as the restricted space in the bathroom allows. “No way, you’re not leaving me.”

You chew on your lip, a surge of adrenaline spiking through your veins. You try to run past him but he grabs your wrists and slams you harshly against the bathroom wall.

Your voice comes out a quivering sob.

“Rafe, don’t you dare…”

As you try to wrestle out of his hold, he bangs your head against the tiles. Sharp needles of pain pierce through your skull. You grow dizzy as your legs start shaking. Rafe uses the momentum to push you onto the floor. 

“Dare what, huh? Take what’s mine?” he snarls. His broad body drapes over yours. You taste the liquor on his tongue as he steals your lips in a rough, possessive kiss. A sick laugh leaves him when you bite his lip, drawing blood. A metallic taste fills your mouth. Through your hazy sight, you watch with horror as Rafe unbuttons his pants. 

He reaches under your dress, tearing your panties with one tug of his hand. Fear floods your veins. You writhe underneath him as he guides his length to your entrance.

“I think you’re forgetting, angel. You’re nothing without me.” His taunting whisper sears into your skin like a hot knife. “I made you, little Kook princess.”

Your mouth opens, a scream building in your throat. But it never makes its way past your lips, Rafe wrapping his hand around your neck as he impales you on his cock. Helpless whimpers roll off your tongue as he sets an unforgiving pace right away, ignoring each of your tearful pleas for him to stop. His scalding breaths ghost over your face. Beads of sweat drip from his skin to yours. Sobs shake your frame as you writhe beneath him, left with no other choice but to be the vessel for his anger and lust.

“I need you, just like you need me,” he mumbles hotly, trailing bites and kisses alongside your neck. The room dims around you with each painful stab of Rafe’s cock inside your bruised core.

The hand around your neck tightens, Rafe’s wrathful baritone edging on a roar.

“Don’t you ever try to leave me again. I won’t be able to take it, angel. In fact…” His lips skim over your earshell as he whispers, “I’d rather fucking kill you and myself before letting you walk out on me again.”

[itadore-you]

show, don't tell

pairing: itadori yuuji x fem!reader (side note i wrote this with her wearing a skirt in mind btw) content: smut (basically netflix & chill)!! & mdni plsss w/c: 1.8k a/n: trying to get back into writing. thoughts of yuuji have ravaged my mind for the past 2 months straight

♥︎ᥫ᭡♥︎ᥫ᭡♥︎ᥫ᭡♥︎ᥫ᭡♥︎ᥫ᭡♥︎ᥫ᭡♥︎ᥫ᭡♥︎ᥫ᭡♥︎ᥫ᭡♥︎ᥫ᭡♥︎ᥫ᭡♥︎ᥫ᭡♥︎ᥫ᭡♥︎ᥫ᭡♥︎ᥫ᭡

Thinking about your casual nights with Yuuji, the ones where the rest of your friends are off doing something else, leaving the two of you alone at last.

This seems to happen a lot more recently, and you just can't put your finger on why. His place is just so comforting, despite how small it is, and its clutter. You know he's been saving up recently to afford a better place. Those extra hours he's been putting in as a part-timer are starting to show their effects. It started off with him missing the group's Thursday nights out, when he opted to stay in and rest instead. You asked him if it was okay for you to come over and check on him since you hadn't seen him in a while, and soon it became a habit to stay in with Yuuji. Sometimes you'd even share a home-cooked meal because he didn't have enough time to cook dinner. One thing was for sure though, you would always stay for hours longer than expected, both of you reluctant to say goodbye.

It's late, so he doesn't want you walking home by yourself at this time. He would walk you home anyway, but isn't it so much easier to stay over at his instead? He had just finished cooking a late-night comfort meal before you came over, and there's enough for the two of you - such a coincidence, isn't it?

And the winter makes it so, so cold. You can't help leaning into his arms after settling down to watch a movie on his laptop. Pirating wasn't a good idea - you've offered your Netflix subscription to Yuuji a couple of times, but he still refuses to take you up on it, because that's the thing about Yuuji; he always, always is willing to give, but never take. The way that you're lying down on him right now - back pressed against his firm chest while his arms wrap around your centre - makes it hard for you to turn from the screen and look at him. You want to start something. You want to take this somewhere. But you don't know if he does. It's been a couple of months, being in this weird limbo with Yuuji. It started off with you just wanting to be around him more. Wanting to talk to him more. Not just more, but every day. Wanting to touch him, feel him, taste him.

But that's the thing about starting off as friends. If he didn't feel the same way, then that would end everything. And Yuuji was a great friend. Always there for you, kind to others but still always somehow makes you feel special, could make you laugh but would never make you cry. You can't let him go! You don't want to mess this up. Meeting him is one of the best things that ever happened to you.

Your heart can't help but beat a little bit faster when you hear Yuuji's light laugh - it's at some witty one-liner from the sidekick character. You didn't even hear the joke, but you're smiling a little too much as you can feel the heave of Yuuji's chest from behind you. Eventually, you break into laughter too, both of you are laughing so hard together that your sides hurt. This is when you choose to sneak a glance at Yuuji, when he's in such a state of pure joy, that tears collect in the corners of his eyes and almost trickle down his cheek.

He's so adorable.

You reach over to wipe them off for him, and his laughter dwindles, trying to keep steady for you. But there goes that handsome smile again, as he locks eyes with you, making your hand a little more unsteady.

"Sorry," he murmurs, still chuckling a little as he averts his eyes. 'Nervous laughing', as he calls it, is a typical response for Yuuji. It's when he laughs hard, unapologetically, and without restraint. It makes you wonder if he'd love you like that, too.

"The joke wasn't even that funny! I just..." His sentence trails off and he looks away, again. At this point, you have completely no idea what's going on in the movie's plot. No way you're letting him get away without finishing that sentence.

"Yuu? What were you going to-"

He chuckles nervously again, shaking his head. "Nothing, nothing. Just sit back and enjoy the film. I like holding you like this."

"Yuuji." You tilt yourself so you can take hold of his face, almost as if you're forcing him to choke out his words. "You can tell me anything. Literally. Anything."

You can practically see the cogs turning in Yuuji's brain as he thinks through his response. Yuuji runs a hand quickly through his unruly pink hair before he speaks again.

"I - No, I mean, it's just that I like spending time with you. A lot. I just-" Yuuji sighs, then continues, "I want to show you what I mean. I don't think I can really say it how I want to."

"Go on."

"But you don't know what I mean...?"

"Well there's one way I can find out," you tease him. You're really, really hoping that he's implying what you think he is.

"Okay."

"Okay?

"Yeah. Okay then."

He takes another deep breath in as you lean against his chest, and the arms wrapped around you now wander, until his hands interlace with yours. Yuuji's voice is a tone quieter as he asks 'Is this okay?' and you answer with a quick squeeze of his hand and a nod. Everyone knows that Yuuji is that one touchy-feely friend, always offering hugs and slinging an arm over your shoulder, but the way he touches you now feels different. The atmosphere has changed. Your heart is beating so fast now, you can't pull your eyes away from the screen to look at him. Even though you want him to keep going, you want to show that you want him just as badly. So instead you move his hand to rest on your thigh, firmly placing yours on top. You can tell that Yuuji is holding his breath at this point, taken by surprise at how forward you are. Maybe you should give him some time before you do anything else.

But only a couple of minutes pass by before Yuuji makes his next move. His fingers curl tighter around your thigh as he kisses your neck. It's a light peck, to test the waters, before he kisses you once more, moving along your neck. On your jawline. Languidly moving up to your cheek, his lips are soft but a little chapped as they taste your skin.

So you lean your head towards his, capturing his lips in a short-lived kiss. Both of you are hesitating because once you go this far, you can't come back. But it's so clear that you now both want each other. The realisation makes you start to bite the inside of your cheek as you turn around quickly to keep watching the movie - Yuuji wants you back. Just as much as you want him. Even though you know this, it still doesn't feel real.

Have you made things awkward? You didn't mean to. It all just happened so quickly, the blur of a kiss and a glimpse of his soft brown eyes. You didn't mean to turn away, you want to continue. His hands clasp yours worriedly.

"Y/n? Are you sure this is okay?" His voice wavers as he fiddles with the rings on your fingers. If you want to go further with Yuuji, then you're going to have to show him.

"Yes, Yuuji. I want you to."

With that, you place his hands on the inside of your thighs. "Please."

He nods from behind you, going slightly rigid for a moment at how breathy you sound asking for him. "Okay."

Then he starts to really touch you. Massaging the inside of your thighs as he murmurs that you should 'keep watching the film'. You're holding your breath every time he drifts further and further up, and you're struggling to focus on the screen; opting to fix your eyes on the subtitles instead. He stops from time to time, only to restart lightly brushing his fingers over the tops of your thighs, and eventually, his fingers disappear underneath the hem of your skirt, still going higher. You can't help trying to look at Yuuji from the corner of your eye - is there a light blush on his cheeks?

"Pay attention, this is the good part," he whispers to you, gently taking hold of your face to keep your eyes trained on the screen.

You start to relax in Yuuji's arms until, just for a moment, he grazes over your underwear, right against your clit. The brief contact with such a sensitive part of you makes you jump a little, as if every nerve on your body lit on fire at the same time. You want more, and this slow tension has been killing you inside. And Yuuji knows it.

"Just relax into me. I'm going to make you feel good," he whispers, as he rests his fingers on your clit again, beginning to trace small circles onto it. With each and every movement, Yuuji is precise, and he can feel your wetness through the fabric. He presses a couple more kisses onto the side of your neck every time he stops touching you, teasing you over and over to delay your orgasm. He can tell that you're feeling especially close when you try to cross your legs, forcing his hand even closer to you, but his steady hands stop you every time. You're positive that your panties are completely soaked through at this point, but it gets even better. Yuuji's deft fingers then pull your panties aside, and they delve into you.

A thumb is kept steady on your clit, whilst he pumps his fingers into you. Yuuji never goes beyond a certain speed, making sure that you feel each and every stroke of his fingers against your walls. Your soft gasps of his name spur him on as he starts to suck on the side of your neck, thrusting deeper with his fingers until he finds your sweet spot - the part of you that is most sensitive. You cry out when he curls his fingers directly up into your g-spot again; It's impossible to hold back anymore.

When you cum, your body almost goes limp - Yuuji groans lowly in response, feeling the way how your hole contracts around his fingers. He can only imagine how that tightness would feel around his dick. He is slow to pull his fingers away from you, still slowly pumping them in and out after your orgasm.

"Fuck... Yuuji....."

His heart tightens in his chest at how breathless you are, how weak you are for him.

"Do you get what I was trying to say before ...?"

"Yes, Yuuji. Yes."

That's all he needs to hear for now. The end credits of the movie will roll soon; whatever has begun between the two of you, is to be continued.

[colorfulbard]

Sacrifice

‿︵‿꒰͜͡ ♡ ͜͡꒱‿︵‿︵‿︵‿꒰͜͡ ♡ ͜͡꒱‿︵‿︵‿︵‿꒰͜͡ ♡ ͜͡꒱‿︵‿

Summary♥︎ A forced visit to Whole Cake Island takes a turn for the worst when Big Mom is experiencing hunger pangs while Katakuri is away on a mission.

Pairing♥︎ Katakuri x Fem!Reader

warnings♥︎ Reader has kids with Katakuri, angst at the end

a/n♥︎ I've been starving for some more Katakuri fics so I had to take matters into my own hands. I put that warning because I know some people don't like reading fanfic where the reader has kids. Don't worry there will be a part 2!

‿︵‿꒰͜͡ ♡ ͜͡꒱‿︵‿︵‿︵‿꒰͜͡ ♡ ͜͡꒱‿︵‿︵‿︵‿꒰͜͡ ♡ ͜͡꒱‿︵‿

People always say, "practice makes perfect". That means, the more you do something, the better you'll be. Like baking, for example. If you practice making the same for over twenty years, you would be considered an expert. You might even be running through the steps on autopilot.

But, no matter how many times you've dealt with this scenario, it never became easier. Honestly, it felt harder to deal with each time.

An easy going saying like, "practice makes perfect", doesn't apply when dealing with a tyrannical emperor with deadly hunger pangs.

The steps taken when it began never changed. All high ranking officials were to report to the surveillance room, turn on the video snails, and give orders to anyone available at the Chateau.

Those down at the Chateau were to remain clear of Big Mom and evacuate any and all innocent citizens.

After many, many years, those steps were done in no time at all. And yet, the sick feeling of fear in your stomach never subsided. Your hands were pinned under your arms to keep from biting your nails. Too bad that didn't stop you from biting your lip instead.

You truly hated traveling to the main island for this reason. You longed for your home, back at Komugi island. The one you shared with your husband, Katakuri, and your fifteen children. Peace and quiet may be impossible to come by, but dealing with a child's temper tantrum was preferable to Big Mom's.

Having to deal with this on your own only made your bitter feelings towards the Whole Cake Chateau grow. The initial plan was to travel together, you and Katakuri. He knew how nervous being alone with his mother made you. But those plans were squandered when Big Mom ordered all ministers gather ingredients for her blasted wedding cake. Then, to make matters worse, he was called away on another mission.

Now, because of that string of unfortunate events, he somehow convinced you to bring your two oldest sons with you, Warabiko and Manju. For some reason, you had said yes. Probably just to ease his mind. In return, your mind was not at ease. It was filled to the brim with anxiety.

You took a slow, deep breath. "And we're sure it's not possible to catch the croquembouche that checked out this morning?" You asked slowly to keep your voice steady.

"It doesn't seem plausible. Either way it'd be a half hour."

You wanted to open your mouth to argue, but it was too difficult. The screams of the terrified homies made it impossible to focus. Those screams were keeping you in a continuous state of unease. You couldn't be selfish and mute the video feed. It was imperative for everyone to hear what was happening.

Big Mom was getting further away from the current video snail. It was time to play the waiting game and see when the feed would switch. You looked down at the floor for a moment of respite from staring at the rampaging Emperor.

You clenched your eyes shut. The screams were distant now, but you could still hear them. Your mind unwillingly imagined it as your sons. You knew they were somewhere safe, away from harm. You made sure of that before you reported to the surveillance room. Even so, as the screams continued, your mind took you the worst possible scenario.

You let your head tilt down to face the floor. At least then, if you somehow managed to open your eyes, you wouldn't be facing the screen.

'Kata... Please, come back to me soon..' Tears began to form behind your eyelids when you thought of him. You needed him to be here.

A hand softly landed on your shoulder in an attempt to not startle you. You took that as a nonverbal sign that the video feed switched. You glanced over your shoulder to see Tamago's hand, but he wasn't looking at you. His eyes were locked onto the screen, his mouth agape.

Your brows furrowed, he always seemed much more coolheaded than you in these scenarios, so, why did he look so spooked? Before checking the footage, you glanced at everyone in the room. Their expression matched Tamago's. The air in the room was tense, as if your anxiety had seeped out of your body and infected everyone else.

You finally looked towards the screen. The scene was the same except Big Mom was getting further away. Homies were still trampled and distant screams could be heard as she trampled over more. But you didn't even notice any of those things.

When you spotted what everyone else was staring at, you froze. Your muscles were locked.

Right there, where Big Mom was stomping through moments ago, stood your eldest son. You couldn't see his face, his back was facing away from the snail. He held onto his sword tightly. It was a gift from you and Katakuri on his eighteenth birthday.

Your hand moved on its own to cover your mouth in shock, the other moved to your stomach. Were you breathing? You couldn't feel anything.

Your head shook from side to side. "No." You whimpered.

Static flickered through the screen and then showed an enraged Big Mom rampaging. You breathing hitched when the sight of your son was gone. The silent scene of your son's determination was replaced by helpless homies getting eaten or stomped on.

Every second that was wasted staring, your son was getting closer to Big Mom. Without wasting anymore time, you pushed Tamago's hand from your shoulder and ran out of the room.

The state of the room remained the same as you left. Everyone stayed silent as they continued watching the footage. Too anxious to see what might happen next.

~

When Warabiko finally reached Big Mom, he was horrified. All of citizens of Whole Cake were terrified, running for their lives lest they be squashed under her heel. He had never seen this happen. He now understood why his family's trips to Whole Cake never lasted more than a day.

He remembered that whenever a tea party was held for one his newest siblings, you demanded to leave as soon as it was over. No matter how much his siblings whined about being tired and wanting to sleep on land, you put your foot down. This was his first time being here for over a day, much to your chagrin.

When he grew older and more mature, you told him stories of his grandmother's famous hunger pangs. The stories were short and brief. He could tell you didn't like talking about them. He finally understood why as he watched Big Mom rampage with reckless abandon.

Something in his gut told him to turn back now and hide with his brother. He ignored that feeling. He couldn't stand by and do nothing. With his father away on a mission, the duty of evacuating citizens and calming Big Mom fell on his shoulders. He was going to make his father proud.

Fighting her was out of question, but he could try and reason with her. She had to be willing to listen to his first grandchild, right?

Her path of destruction was never-ending as he got closer to her. He had to be careful. It was clear that when she's this hungry, all of her sense was gone. She didn't care who or what was in her way during her search.

It didn't even matter if it was an innocent little girl. She hadn't even tripped over the rubble, she had tripped over her feet trying to keep up with her mother. The mother hadn't even noticed, too terrified to look back.

The girl shakily stood on her feet and rubbed the debris from her knees. Her heard swayed from side to side to try and spot her mother. She had no idea Big Mom's foot was inches away from crushing her.

Warabiko immediately lunged towards Big Mom's feet and grabbed the girl. He landed on his feet and placed the girl on the ground.

The girl looked up and smiled up at her savior. "Thank you so much!" She cheered, "that was fun!"

She acted like she wasn't just moments away from being killed. Warabiko smothered his feeling of shock down and sighed. "Run away from her and find your mother. It's not safe," he instructed.

The girl nodded with a giggle and ran off, far from Big Mom.

Whilst Warabiko had dealt with the girl, Big Mom had busied herself with eating any homie or building in her way. Her anger grew as each thing she shoved down her throat tasted nothing like her craving.

"Where is it?!" She whined, "where is my croquembouche?!" She punched another building. Nothing but croquembouche could placate her.

"Mama, please! You just have to wait! The chefs will be here soon!"

Warabiko recognized the voice as one of his uncle's, Mont-d'Or. Another one of his uncle's and aunt led citizens away in the opposite direction.

Nothing Mont-d'Or said got through her to her. He was too far away for her to care. Warabiko's jaw clenched and he ran to stand in front of her, arms out. "Grandma, please! You have to stop!" He pleaded.

Big Mom paused and locked eyes with the source of the sound. She snarled and clenched her fist, "who's there?" She questioned.

Warabiko's brows furrowed and he could feel himself grow warm. "I-It's me! Grandma, it's Warabiko!" His voice grew higher in pitch, his hands began to shake, "don't you recognize me?" The question was practically a whisper.

Big Mom growled and swung at where he stood. Warabiko was able to dodge, but not without losing his footing. He fell onto scattered rubble and grunted when it dug into his back.

Mont-d'Or's mouth was open wide in shock the moment he saw Warabiko enter the fray. "M-Mama! Wait!" He pleaded, coming closer. "You have to stop! It's Warabiko! Your grandson!"

Big Mom paid Mont-d'Or's pleading no mind. She was still infuriated that her search for croquembouche was interrupted. "Where is my croquembouche boy?!" She demanded. "All I want is my croquembouche!" She swung at the building next to Warabiko and ate the contents she managed to grab.

The remnants of her snack flew all around. Warabiko turned over on his side and cradled his head. He could hear it land all around him.

Mont-d'Or clenched his jaw as he watched Warabiko cradle himself. He couldn't go over there and try to save him, he'd end up dying too. He just hoped Warabiko was a fast runner.

"Warabiko, you have to run! You can't reason with when she's like this!" He yelled.

Warabiko lifted his head and looked towards his uncle. Judging by the way Mont-d'Or stared at him, he was sure his terror was plain as day. He couldn't move thanks to that terror gripping his muscles. It was affecting his brain, not allowing him to choose between fight or flight. Maybe Big Mom wouldn't pay him any mind if he stayed silent.

She was still there, right behind him. Warabiko didn't have to turn his head to know that. He could practically feel her breathing down his neck. The only part of his body that managed to move was his spine as shivers went down it. She wasn't moving away from him. Her gaze was burning into his back.

Big Mom's breathing grew stronger and he could smell the sweets emanating from it.

Warabiko somehow willed his head to move back to look at his grandmother. His next breath was caught in his throat when he locked eyes with her.

Her scowl was gone. In its place was a sickening grin. Her eyes were unrecognizable, they were glazed over and crazed. Drool was dripping down her chin and she stared at him.

She leaned closer to his face. "Life..." She whispered, giggling like a mad woman, "or treat?"

Warabiko couldn't answer even if he wanted to. The words were caught in his throat, choking him. He could only watch as his grandmother raised her first high in the air.

He knew what his grandmother's fruit was capable of, his father had told him. His father had probably hoped he would take it as a warning to stay away. Too bad he didn't listen.

Everything began to slow down. His mother's first was taking minutes to reach him and Mont-d'Or's yelling was indistinguishable. Typically, these were the moments where one's life would flash before their eyes. Oddly enough, that didn't happen. He only saw one thing. It was you. His sweet mother, smiling down at him. Your eyes crinkled as you smiled. They were the same color as his own. That was the only feature you two shared.

From his point of view, he could see his hands attempt to grab your face. They were so small here. He must've been a baby. This was a memory he didn't even realize he had.

You were giggling at his futile attempts. You brushed his cheek with your finger and began to sing.

La la lu

La la lu

Oh, my little star sweeper

Your voice was so soft and sweet. His eyes began to droop as your singing lulled him to sleep. The warmth of your arms was seeping through the soft blanket touching his skin. He recognized the blanket. It was his favorite, handmade by you. Each of siblings had one similar to it, a different color for each one.

He could feel you moving him about the room, swaying him. Through his half lidded eyes, he could see his father standing at the corner of the room. The scarf was gone, and he was smiling.

It was such a nice, warm memory. It was perfect for falling asleep. Warabiko kept forcing his eyes open to stay awake, but your voice was so comforting. It reminded him of the warm donuts you made, fresh out of the oven on a quiet morning.

There was no harm in closing his eyes, he'll see you again when he woke up. His small body went limp in your arms as his eyes began to close without fight.

His body was mere milliseconds away from relaxing into a comfy sleep. Until a sharp jab at his side forced him awake. The warmth of the memory was gone. Whatever it was that hit him launched far from where he previously was.

Warabiko was on high alert now. Big Mom was still angry, still searching for croquembouche. He shakily stood on his feet with a hand on the side where he was jabbed. He glanced back to where he remembered seeing his uncle's and aunt.

Physically, he could see they weren't hurt. But their faces held a different story. They were terrified, all color was drained from their faces. It was odd considering Mont-d'Or and Opera's skin tone.

Warabiko dared follow their gaze and he soon wished he hadn't. His heart stopped and ice filled his veins, making him freeze in place.

He didn't even notice nor hear Big Mom stomp away in the opposite direction, demanding croquembouche. In that moment, in his mind, everything was quiet.

A mirror image of his eyes was staring straight into his own. That familiar color he always saw in the mirror was drained away, and only white remained.

The only movement that was seen wasn't a sign of life. It was just your body falling to the ground. The sound of it reverberated throughout the whole Chateau.

Warabiko would hear that sound in his nightmares.

[seungkwanniee]

MY TEACHER !

pairings : nonidol!seokmin x fem!reder

genre : fluff fluff fluff that i'm gonna cry , situationship

warnings : mention of a minor injury , calling the kids 'little creatures'

wc : 1k

synopsis : your (almost) boyfriend!seokmin is a kindergarten teacher

an: i have many ideas writted down but if you want to request, feel free to do so !! Latest post flopped soo hard omg 😭 I really thought it was going to be big and interesting...

〔masterlist〕

you just hop off your car, adjusting the long skirt that falls softly on your legs while a bag sitted comfortably on your shoulder. You look straight, smiling at the sound of the joyfull kids laughing that can be already heard from the outside. Butterflies full your stomach when your thoughts go to Seokmin, your long term situationship. You've met him right here, when you was doing one of your walks meanwhile he was running behind a kid that was... escaping? You just catched the kid in time and, to thank you, he decided to take you to a bar date. You never lost contact since then, around six months ago, and now it was pretty common that you wait for him outside the kindergarten where he works.

You can't say that it was love at frist sigh. At least, for you it was like that. Sure, he was really handsome, but his personality was the thing that made you fall for him. He was joyfull, like a sunshine, his smile was so contagious, his jokes were a little cheesy, but somehow they always made you laugh. Maybe because they were coming from him, and you were so in love of Seokmin. But above all, he was good with kids and you LOVED kids, how you can't fall for a man like this?

For him, it was surely love at frist sight. When you catched the kid for him so effortlessy, he raised his head to look who was the angel who helped him and it was an angel for real. He needed to be quick and think about a way to not lost contact with you, so he just proposed the most stupid thing that was passing in his mind. It worked to, so...

《do want to enter and see the kids?》

you stared at the text maybe for too long. Seokmin knows that you have a soft spot for kids, but he never asked you such a thing. You was so excited but at the same time a little nervous. It was embarassing just entering and passing by all the coworkers in a place where you don't belong to.

《if you don't want to it's okay, i'll be to you asap》

you could already see his pout or upset expressions behind the screen. You took a little too long to answer back, and he was really really sensitive, especially when talking about his little creatures.

《dw, i'll come in five》

you was already outside the school, yes but, come on, you needed some time to find the courage to do it.

after adjusting your straight brown hair looking at your reflection throught the car window, you make your way into the school and fortunately, the way into the garden was more easier than you thought.

A little giggle comes out of your mouth when you spot seokmin sitting on the grass, with little creatures wandering around him. They were sticking things, you were still too far to get what, on his hands while he alternate his bright smile to his cute fake pout. Your heart skip a beat at the vision, seokmin and kids? the most beautiful and cute thing you could ever seen.

His lips still curled into a pout while he says something to the little boy messing with his hand fulled of colorful plasters, and when he finally gets to notice you, his lips changes into a smile.

"i got hurt badly" he stands up from his place, showing you the hand a little to birght now. "oh, really?" you raise your eyebrow playing along his overdrammatic behavior. His nod makes you smile, eyeing the kids looking at you curiosly. After all, you were still a stranger to them.

"say hi to my friend kids" oh, friends really?, nothing stops you from giving him a confused look, but immediatly melting at the sound of the noisy children greeting and waving with their little and puffy hands. "aw~, how cute. Hi~" you wave at them too.

"wait, you have a scratch here too. Let me..." you look below his lips, slightly touching his pale skin, where there was actually nothing. He smiles at your touch, letting you almost touch his lips with your thumb. You grab from the package the remaining plasters, attacking one to his face, "cute" you humble under your breath. When he was right about to say something, kids starts to grab his sleeve, jumping up and down with plasters on their tiny hands, probably wanting to full his face too.

"is she your girlfriend, teacher Seokmin?" he was sitting again on the grass, while the kids where all over his face. The view made your heart flutter: the golden hour was hitting his face so perfectly, while his eyes where shutted and his head leaning back. "can you two kiss?" the kid didn't even let him answer.

"who told you we are togheter?" he smiles at the kid, discreetly laying his eyes to your figure. You looked so perfect in his eyes: the sun kissing your pale skin, your big brown eyes sparkling because of the sun while the slightly wind makes your hair wave togheter with your long skirt, hiding your long legs. He always think about how lucky he was, having such a woman wrappend around his finger, by his side but still too shy and coward to ask her officially. Just by landing his eyes on you, makes him want to love you forever, to the moon and back, giving all of himself. It's so big that there aren't right words to describe it, it was so overwhelming that his chest feels almost heavy. Saying a stupid 'I love you' wasn't describing how his feeling for you are.

"because you look at her how my dad does with my mum!"

[heizours]

GLITCHES

summary. when they find out that you're planning to delete the game under a few reasons

tags. gn! reader, grammatical mistakes may occur

cw. angst if you squint, mentions of explosions, sumeru archon quest spoilers on scara's part, they are lowkey freaking out like it's the end of the world

feat. xiao, scaramouche, heizou, zhongli, kazuha

note. there will be no endings/parts where the reader deletes or doesn't delete the game. to make it easier, the characters somehow already knows another way to prove their existence, and that it is ;)

< back to event m.list

INTRO.

Recently you have been busy for the past few days, as you're trying to accomplish all the works that was given to you before the given deadline.

And that also meant, not being able to spend the rest of your day opening the game. You really tried managing your time, but even that advice can't stop from the overflowing requirements that were continuously being given to you.

Which led to this scenario- apparently your laptop's storage has already reached it's limit, and because of that you can't save the file that was tasked to you

"Are you seriously playing with me now?" You grumbled under your breath, as this minor problem is starting to making you feel frustrated.

Meanwhile, your dear character has been very worried about you. He haven't seen you log in for the past recent weeks, and each passing day was a dreading feeling for him.

Till, all his answers have been granted when that familiar feeling came back again as he heard the sudden sound, which indicates of you logging in. The feeling of your presence, made him feel at ease again. But, of course, he seriously didn't expected it to be thrown away in an instant.

"Perhaps playing one last time, should erase the guilt I'm going to be feeling while deleting this..." You mumbled to yourself, not even the slightest aware that it was clearly heard by him beyond your screen.

Oh, no.

What have you done?

XIAO. 

any outsider would think that there’s nothing going on inside his mind. the truth is, he’s trying to understand if what you had just said was just a joke or not, that he didn’t even noticed that he’s actually panicking the minute he heard it.

Xiao’s breathed hitched in nervousness at the statement that he had just heard from you, not too long ago. His eyes widened in both shock and fear, as he needed to control his breathing so that you won’t be able to noticed the odd actions about him. 

He tried to keep his composure, but he really can’t as his thoughts continue to spiral and emerge from every corner of his brain. 

Did he do something that you didn’t like?

Is it because he isn’t build enough to surpass your expectations?

Or maybe, you just came up with that excuse to indirectly say that you’re tired of him?

No amount of words can be describe by the amount of predictions Xiao is coming up with, as he looked back to reflect on his actions if there is something that bothered you so much, that you refused to play the game for the past few weeks and now, you’re mumbling about deleting it from your gadget’s existence.

His eyes kept darting every where that is surrounding him, except the direction that leads to yours, as he could feel the sweat from nervousness and fear are starting to kick and come out from him.

“But- they were always so happy and glad after logging in. It’s impossible that they are getting tired of it l, they even always use my abilities and skills to complete quests..” He mumbled to himself.

He looked up to look at you again, and there was no denying that Xiao can see frown that was evident on your face even though you tried to hide it in the first place, while you’re taking every last explore in the map, to be worth it and cherished before logging off.

If there’s anything that affects Xiao the most, it is seeing you under the clouds.

Suddenly, the thoughts that were brewing inside him, were pushed out of the way, as this time a determination presence has made it known from within him.

He has made up his mind, and even if it will have to cost something, then so be it.

It might be considered as an irrational decision, but anything is a rational one as long as it involves your happiness and well-being.

“Before I knew it, you are the only keeper of my heart. You gave me such a blossoming feeling I can't be able to explain. Then in return, if this decision will be for your own good, then I’m willing to risk it all for you.”

SCARAMOUCHE.

it might be already expected that he would let out a sudden outburst like he usually does, but it was the complete opposite of it. he was as still as thin ice, since that statement alone from you had triggered and brought back such major flashbacks that he had experienced from his whole life.

For a thousand of years he has lived and wandered all his life, this was the very first time Scaramouche has experience that feeling once again.

He thought that it was all over, and that he had left all those incidents all in the past, but you were the trigger for those unpleasant memories to emerged back from the ashes.

He doesn't understand.

What do you mean by that?

Are you also going to be like her? like them?

Are you also going to abandon him?

Scaramouche felt paralyze by those thoughts, because just as he was about to become a playable character and is waiting for the anticipation to be welcomed in your arms, this is what he gets instead?

“That can’t be possible, in fact- they are always excited whenever I get cutscenes especially if they are unexpected ones- or maybe they didn't like my part for Sumeru's archon quest..?" He murmured to himself, as he covered a part of his mouth, while being deep into his thoughts.

He looked back up to the screen, only to see you very focused on defeating a group of hilichurls that you were commissioned to. But no amount of focus can cover the sadness that is displayed on your face.

Scaramouche often has a routine, that since he is still an NPC and can be able to also roam around whether your online or offline in the game, he had made it a point to himself, to subtly follow you wherever you go, so that he can also be able to secretly help you to defeat the opponents much easier than you expected.

He for once, thanked himself that he never got tired of doing it, even though he sometimes also ‘complains’ how it’s really troublesome to see, that someone as dangerous as himself, is discreetly following you around like a lost child.

He took one last look at you, before turning his back. But as he took force steps away from you, he had halt it. Once again, he turned around to look at you, as a small smile slowly crept up to his face.

Like he suddenly had a big plan on his mind.

After all, if you can be able to enter his, then he too can do the same to yours. Right?

“The hoax, they are just all a gigantic lie in the world I live in. But you, you were different from all of them, in you I found peace and assurance. So, can I be able to find the truth in yours?”

HEIZOU.

as expected from a detective like himself, he’s coming up with every equation, that can fit as the solution to your problem. he gives himself some assurance that it will take not that much of a time before he finds one....or can he be able to?

He is a prodigy, an amazing detective. Surely he can be able to find such major clues, and can put it into the puzzle that's missing it's pieces, to prevent you from erasing the game?

Heizou stands there with his typical detective pose, as he goes deeper in his inner thoughts.

Ah, maybe this can work!

I think I'm gonna have a change of plans, it will not work.

It's alright, I can be able to solve this. Hopefully..

His brain continued to brew and function like it used to be, but every time he comes up with something it was always met by a dead end.

If any passer by will be able to see him, they could literally see the imaginary smoke coming from his brain, and because of his frequent change in expressions.

One moment his eyes would light up, the second he will freeze in pure disappointment before replacing it with a frustrated expression, as he goes back at the starting line.

"This is quite odd...usually I can be able to solve cases with the help of my intuition, but how is it I can't find something for their problem?"

Heizou mumbled disappointedly to himself.

He wasn't even aware, that the "assurance" that he is telling to himself, will be the embodiment for him so start panicking, as the fear that he won't be able to see and feel your presence again, is starting to sink in.

Heizou looked back up at the screen, as the dreaded feeling in him continued to drop. Archons, he hated it so much to see you feeling like this.

If only he can just find a way disappear from this sham world, and can be able to do all the things he is already thinking of to comfort you, then he would gladly do so.

The moment that unintentional statement formed in his mind, a large bright light bulb appeared above his head.

'That's it!'

He snapped his fingers as he mentally exclaimed it.

It was a risky and impossible solution, but how could we say it as an impossible one, when we haven't even tried it yet?

He took a look at you, up at the screen before raising up his hand, as if he was trying to touch your cheek and comfort you, despite the digital barrier that is hindering him from doing so.

"You are the William to my Sherlock, therefore I would like you to wait for me [Name], I promise you I will be the solution to your needs."

ZHONGLI.

he flinched unconsciously from that statement. out of all the possible words he is already predicting to come out from you, this was by far, the most surprising one. can you imagine the look on his face?

Out of all the things that Zhongli has expected, this was the very least he had expected to happen.

It was a very rare yet memorable moment to catch the old archon to be off guard, and there is no denying that he did felt that way when you had spoken to yourself about how you're thinking of ending things already.

He completely understands it due to the experiences he had seen as a witness during his lifetime, as he also has his own beliefs that he can't be able to stop you, especially that it is not his right to know what's happening among your personal affairs.

After all, you're not even the least aware that he is alive and breathing lively inside the device you're using right now.

However, there is still this tingling feeling where he's a little curious of what is bothering you so much, that it this had to happen in this point of your life.

Did something not good happened?

Are you alright?

Will you still remain safe, even if you erase his existence?

Such countless thoughts started coming one after another, as the more he continues to spiral down through it, the more he is getting concerned about your condition.

"One shall not expose their identity especially if it's something unimaginable, but I clearly want to express how concern I am over you [Name].."

Zhongli voiced out to himself, because if he would do it in front of you, then there is a very big possibility that you're going to freak out and will be able to click that delete button without any hesitation, before he can even explain anything about that glitch.

Engrossed in his thoughts, he was snapped out of it after hearing a big explosion that was not that far from where he is standing at the moment.

He has hesitating if he should go after it, especially that there is a chance someone might have gotten in danger because of it, but as he took a look at you are right now, he decided that he would make the travel fast in order to get back to you in a flash.

As he arrived at the area, something worth shocking and unbelievable was existing right in front of his eyes. No, it wasn't an unpleasant sight but it was rather a complicated one.

There stood an unknown portal, and through the portal he can be able to see you, doing what you were doing, but in a more different perspective from what he sees behind the screens.

Zhongli took hesitant steps, towards it. There is an odd presence radiating from it. Knowing that he is usually a rational person, he would usually step back from it just to be safe, but instead he finds himself closing the gap between him and it?

He took again another look through the portal to make sure if what is behind it, is truly not something delusional just to lure him in.

He's not one to make a decision in a fast pace, but just seeing you right behind this portal he's standing in front of, is encouraging him to take the opportunity, as it will be a worthy choice to make and shouldn't be wasted.

His fingers shook, as he got closer and closer to it, and once it had collided with the portal, there was a blinding light that surrounded the area before it disappeared along with the thin air.

"Oh Dear, just how big of a trouble did I got into? Well, there is no time to blame myself. I guess it should be you who I am worrying about, after all how would you react to find me standing right in front of you?"

KAZUHA.

he was able to take that statement calmly on the outside, however the moment he had grasp what you had just said, there is no denying that something shattered inside of him.

It seem that time has stopped around him, the very moment those words had escaped your lips.

But, despite the unpleasant twisting and burning feeling in his chest, it's a surprise that he was able to take it well from the outside.

Do not be fooled though, for if you have the ability to go deep inside his mind, you would be able to see the countless thoughts that are appearing and whispering from within him.

What was the cause of this effect?

Can he be able to reverse it at least?

Are you going somewhere he can't be able to follow or reach?

Such an occurrence like this, brings back Kazuha from the burdens he had to carry because of his past and fallen status.

"I have no right to stop you from doing so, since I firmly believe that you are entitled to have goals and dreams. But, there is a bitter taste in my mouth that I can't be able to erase once you separate the both of us for the purpose of your path."

He mumbled to himself, as he places a right hand near his chest, while reminiscing the unforgettable moments he had with you before you completely take the chance, to erase his data and memories.

He was glad that he isn't part of your team party at the moment, because he can take this chance to just simply look and admire you from the barrier, and take in your breathless form before fading away like the glitches.

That is, until something bright yet risky have been planted on his mind. Not too long ago, he heard some gossips about a mechanism device, being able to grant a wish of whether it can be believable or not.

Now, Kazuha knows that such a device can't possibly be able to do a miracle like that, but even though he is denying it, there is still that glimpse of hope inside him, that he should go for it.

Knowing that he can be able to also roam around like the others that escapes your naked eye, he took one last yearning look at you, as he hastily began his journey, hoping and praying that he can be able to make it to that device before you can even plan to erase all of the game's existence.

"You are the summer to my autumn. Back then I didn't have someone I can be able to protect, but now that you're here, please continue to show me the bright light that leads to yours."

OUTRO.

Peacefully.

You were just sleeping very peacefully.

But, that peace was unintentionally disturbed by his arrival- which you didn't know at all.

You could feel something- no, someone softly caressing your face, as if you're a sensitive vase.

At first, you tried to ignore it thinking that it was just the gust of wind, and it soon stopped.

However, it didn't end there. The lingering and soft touches had already disappeared from your senses, but you could still feel the presence of that someone.

You could feel them staring right into your soul, and if you even show the slightest signs of being awake, who knows what can they do to you.

Despite the warnings you had gathered, your stubbornness still got ahead of you. Because as soon as your eyes fluttered open, the first thing you see is someone breathing above you.

Out of instinct, you push them and hastily grabbed the nearest object that you can use to defend yourself, but as you took another look at the said intruder, you could have sworn that this is a dream.

Unconsciously, you slapped your face with the both of your hands, attempting to jolt your soul to wake up. And the sound emitted a sharp sting, causing the intruder to panic.

"W-wait! I'll explain everything I know, j-just please don't continue to hurt yourself further." He frantically claimed, as he started to feel guilty for making you act like that.

You lowered down the object that you're using to defend yourself, but that doesn't mean that you're guard has also lowered down.

I mean, who would even lower their own guard down when they wake up to find one of the characters from the game that they are playing, are alive and breathing right above them, got into their property without noticing it, knows them and looks exactly like the character itself?

"A-alright, I'll let you. J-just please don't come any closer than that, since this moment actually took a big toll on me, and I'm finding it unbelievable to even believe it." You nervously replied back, as he nodded back eagerly in return.

You think it will only end here? How laughable, truth to be told, this is just the beginning of each other's story.

We may never know what are fate's plan for the both of you, but as they always proclaim-

'Everything happens, for a reason.'

comment to be added in the taglist!

[featherandferns]

daylight - eight

jj maybank x fem!reader | part 8 of the daylight series | read part 7 here

content warnings: sexual content (f receiving); drug use (weed)

word count: 2.5k.

blurb: whilst watching cheesy eighties horror, you and JJ somehow end up in a fight as all the mess from the past two months finally comes to a head.

“This is the dumbest fucking movie I’ve ever seen,” you snort, passing JJ back his joint. 

“Shut up, this is the best part,” JJ mutters.

He takes a hit and the cloud of vapour clouds your vision. It temporarily blocks the view of the screen, showing Lauren Daniels, permed blonde hair and pink-sweater clad, quivering in fear atop of a shelf in her apartment. The slimy, green-toned cannibalistic monster lingers below, snarling with its fang-like teeth and beady eyes. In the light of modern C.G.I and with the humour from the high you’re on, the whole movie is ludicrous and hilarious. JJ had begged for you guys to watch it. Your vote was Legally Blonde but he turned his nose up. So, here you were, sat side by side, your feet in his lap, dazily watching C.H.U.D as you pass a joint back and forth. You’re at JJ’s house. It had the lingering household smell of weed and booze. Untidy and unkempt, there were empty beer cans and unclean laundry strewn about all over. Intermixed was mechanical parts which you assume are from his dad’s handy-man jobs. His dad was out somewhere: JJ hadn’t said and you didn’t ask. 

As Lauren tosses a bucket of developer on the monster, one of JJ’s hands absentmindedly massages your left foot. It shoots tingles up your legs. It’s weirdly domestic, this entanglement. Something about it feels more than friendly. I mean, you can’t imagine JJ messing with Kiara’s feet whilst watching a movie. Tuning out of the movie and taking another hit of the joint, your mind starts to wander. 

Things between you and JJ had gotten more and more complicated. Most conversations started with teasing jabs and ended with his dick in your mouth. Hang-outs came with the unspoken agreement of making-out at some stage. But things were deeper than sex. The conversations were deeper than those shared between fuck buddies. The touching felt more sensual than a rush to get off. There were these times you’d catch JJ looking at you, and there’d be this longing in his gaze. You knew it because you saw it in your own eyes. Catch it in the reflection of a mirror or window, or spot it in a photo taken by one of the Pogues at whatever hang. You always kept the focus on him, though. It felt easier to pleasure him than to have his hands on you. Everytime he tried to, you’d tense up and internally freak out, and spiral into thoughts and anxieties that stemmed from Tyler. In short: it scared the shit out of you to let JJ have you. You knew that the moment you’d give yourself to him would be the moment you were in too deep. 

But every time you think about bringing it up or cutting it off, you remember how relaxed you feel in JJ’s company. How seen. The two of you shared a language that didn’t require trivial things like words. The thought of JJ being the impending meteorite circling your orbit lost its weight in worry with the notion that you got to have him near. That you got to gaze upon and marvel at him when he wasn’t looking, and wonder how on earth something so pure and perfect was handed such a shitty deal in life. How someone like him wanted to spend time with someone like you. 

JJ’s knuckle hitting a pressure point in your foot has you twitching, coming back to the present. He chuckles quietly. Does it again just to get a reaction. You lightly kick at him. 

“Knock it off,” you mumble. 

“Can’t help it. S’funny,” he replies. “You hear from Mimsy recently?”

“A little. I think she’s really into Darren,” you say.

It’s weird that JJ knows about that. About Mimsy and her livelihood, and was interested enough to ask about it. He had a habit of checking up on you. Asking you about how you were feeling about Kildare, and how your parents were, how the photography was going, how Mimsy was doing. He coaxed anecdotes about Vancouver out of you whenever you felt homesick simply because he knew how much you liked talking about your home. 

“Didn’t you say he was a trust fund baby?” JJ sniggers. 

“Yeah, well, there’s worse people for her to hook up with,” you shrug, requesting the joint back with wiggling fingers.

“What? Like Lloyd?”

You glance at him, mildly bewildered. “How do you remember that?”

“Hm?”

“How do you remember Lloyd?” 

You don’t even remember mentioning him. JJ shrugs. 

“I dunno. I remember most things you tell me,” he says, looking back to the TV screen. His fingers continue rubbing the palm of your foot. You’re practically desensitised to it now. “I like hearing you talk.”

And you fucking hate it when he says things like that: passes compliments to you like it’s Monopoly currency. You hate how easy it is for him to do it, seemingly unaware of the effect it has on you.

When JJ turns to you again, likely seeking out the joint, he finds your stare set on his profile. Smiling, he asks, “what?”

Your lips twitch upwards at the deja vu. “Nothing. It’s just that you’re really fucking pretty.”

JJ eyes light up. His smile turns bashful. It's taken out of view when he dips his head, turning it away from you. You giggle and prod at his chest with your toes, teeth sinking into your lips to try and keep your cheesy grin at bay.

JJ's fingers wrap around your ankle. He drags you to him, across the sofa, making you yelp out with a laugh. Those very fingers slide up your bare legs, slipping under your pyjama shorts to cup your ass, and he tugs you into his lap. You loop your arms around his neck with a giggle, blunt still balanced precariously between two fingers, and accidentally bump his forehead in the process. The two of you laugh, doped up and dizzy, and his nose brushes yours as he calms. The two of you sit like that - you in JJ’s lap - passing Eskimo kisses, eyes closed, smiles steady. When he finally presses his lips to yours, the kiss feels different to all the other times. Less frenzied. It almost feels like he’s trying to tell you something as he brushes your lips against his. His tongue that slips into your mouth carries messages you can’t seem to decipher, as the two of you fall into one another. One of your hands strokes along his jaw, angling his head to deepen the kiss. He’s growing hard beneath you, making your cunt throb with the thought. He flinches away suddenly with a hiss. 

“What? What’s wrong?” you mumble, leaning back in his strong hold. 

He chuckles. “Fucking ash hit the back of my neck.”

Giggling, you take the joint away and carelessly put it on the coffee table behind you. Turning back to him, you find yourself taken aback by the look on his face. It makes your heart stop still in your chest before it plummets down your ribcage. You know that look. You’ve seen it on your own face, when you stare into the mirror. 

“JJ…” you whisper. 

His lips on yours silence you with a fiery kiss. You gasp against them as he picks you up and practically tosses you on your back on the sofa, with something between a grunt and growl. He scrambles to be atop of you, unapologetic as he kisses down your jawline and neck. You hurry to take off your shirt the moment his fingers tease at the hem of it. He’s back on you in a minute. Your body feels like it’s on fire. Like you might combust if someone were to light a match. And, God, do you want him to.

You rut your hips instinctively at the feel of JJ’s lips on your nipple through your thin bralette. Eyes slipping closed, head tilting back, your fingers latch into his scraggly hair. You hum out a moan. 

“So fuckin’ pretty, baby,” JJ mumbles against your heaving stomach. “So fuckin’ needy too.”

Your fingers fiddle with the back of his collar, tugging at it until he takes the hint. He grabs it by the back and pulls it off his head. Tosses it to the side, chuckling with a horny grin as he reconnects his lips to your bare skin. Your bralette joins the pile, much to JJ’s pleasure. His hands fondle at your breast; the pad of his thumb tenderly brushes over your hardening nipple before pinching it between his forefinger. You gasp out a soundless moan. 

Kissing just above the waistband of your shorts, his fingers find purchase on your hipbones. They dip below the fabric and try to coax them down. 

You feel like gravity hits. You come plummeting back down to earth. Palming at his shoulder and jaw, you try and coax his face back to yours. 

“Lemme suck you off,” you mumble, looking down at him. He looks so pretty, between your legs. 

He shakes his head with a smile. “Wanna make you feel good.”

“You don’t have to,” you say, trying to keep your voice light. You try to bring him back up to you again but JJ doesn’t relent. It takes you physically shifting out of his hold to stop him from pulling your short down. When he looks up at you, his smile is fading. You try to bring it back with one of your own. “I just wanna get you off.”

JJ pauses. Physically stills. Then, he sits back on his knees. Your smile vanishes. After knowing JJ for as long as you have, you can recognise the telltale signs of his frustration and anger. JJ looks to the TV screen, attention elsewhere, and begins to shake his head. Slow at first, then fast. All you can do is watch. Finally, he makes a sound. It’s a humourless scoff.

“Why won’t you let me touch you?” JJ asks, looking back to you. 

Your stomach twists nervously. “I do.”

“No, you don’t.”

“JJ, I literally just let you feel me up,” you return with a failing laugh, brows furrowing. 

“That’s not what I mean and you know it,” JJ quickly returns, tone turning short. 

You blink at him, faux smile gone, and your lips bumble to find some sort of response. JJ’s irritation momentarily subsides and is instead replaced with hurt. 

You hate the vulnerable insecurity in JJ’s voice when he asks, “do you not trust me or something?”

“No, of course I do–”

“Then why do you never let me near you?” JJ snaps. He tosses out his arms. “I mean, am I not good enough for you or something?”

“What?”

“Not fucking worthy enough to see you naked, is that it?”

“Of course not,” you breathe, bewildered by the thought. 

“Then what? I don’t fucking turn you on, is that it? I just don’t do it for you and you wanna spare my fucking feelings?”

Your eyes narrow at his words. “Are you throwing what happened in the chateau in my face right now?”

“No, I just–” JJ cuts himself off with a sharp exhale, clenching his eyes shut. He clenches his fist to try and restrain his anger. His knuckles slowly lift to his lips. “I just want to know why.”

“Why the fuck do you think you deserve to?” you snap. Sitting up, you grab for your shirt and tug it on. “What? You think every person you’ve ever known owes you an explanation for why they’re not falling at your feet?”

“Oh, fuck off,” JJ mutters, shaking his head. “You’re avoiding the question.”

“I don’t need to avoid it,” you sharply return. “Cause I don’t need to fucking answer it.”

“You don’t need to answer it?”

“No, I don’t.”

“You don’t think I deserve to know why, after two months of us doing this fucking thing, you don’t let me go down on you?”

Your eyes clench shut. 

“Why you don’t let me fuck you?”

You laugh out a humourless laugh. Gape at him, eyes mean. “Oh! So that’s what this is! You’re fucking bitter cause a girl won’t let you fuck her? You know, there’s this wonderful thing in the world, JJ - you should learn about it sometime. It’s called women having rights.”

“Oh my fucking God,” JJ spits, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers as his eyes shut. “You’re fucking impossible, you know that?”

“And you’re an entitled prick. Guess we both have each other’s number now,” you quickly retort.

You get to your feet and search for JJ’s shirt, finding it on the other side of the coffee table. The drivel coming out of the television only pisses you off more, so you shut it off. 

“What aren’t you telling me?” JJ asks. His voice is calmer, though still strung tight. With your back to him, he can’t see the look on your face. He can’t see the physical pain that question causes you. “I thought things were good between us.”

You look down and your eyes close. Fist scrunching JJ’s t-shirt in your hold, your lips purse to keep from quivering. You knew this was a bad idea. Most things are, when it comes to romance. Somebody always gets hurt. 

“Well? Aren’t they?”

You take a shaking intake of air and finally find enough courage to turn. JJ’s not angry anymore. He looks just as dejected as you feel. You shake your head weakly. 

“What are we doing, JJ?”

“I…” His mouth moves but no words come out. Until they do. “We’re just messing around.”

It feels like that’s the final shot to your stomach that sends your whole world crashing. As if laying down to rest, your eyes slip shut. 

“Yeah, well, it’s certainly a fucking mess now, isn’t it?” you whisper.

You throw him his shirt with no conviction. He only just catches it as it slides down his chest. For once in his life, JJ doesn’t seem to have anything to say. Shaking your head, breaking his stare, you run your fingers through your hair.

“I’ll see you around, JJ.”

As you walk past him, towards the door, you hear JJ call out your name. You don’t stop. Don’t turn. Don’t think about anything but Vancouver the entire way home, as if it’s some escapist daydream. Halfway to your house, you try to call Mimsy but she doesn't pick up. You try again as you walk through the door. Home alone, the house feels just as lonely as yourself. With one final attempt, you go to voicemail for a third time. You leave her a mess of a voicemail. And then, you crawl into bed.

part nine coming soon!

taglist:

@princessuki21 | @psyches-reid | @heybank | @avengersgirllorianna | @rrosiitas | @yourmumstoy | @jjsfavgirl | @void21 | @fictionalcomforts | @gsp420 | @redhead1180 | @wearemadeofstardust0 | @mrs-jjmaybank | @ifilwtmfc | @heybank | @lilyw1235 | @belle101200 | @maybankskiss | please tell me if any tags aren't working - I've never done taglists before!

[nieceeee]

“BEFORE THE BABY”

P/S: What was it like before babydaddy!eren was a baby daddy. And the reason he became one in the first place.

W/C: 4.2K

A/N: uhhh, this is a lil nasty. But this is before y/n gets pregnant and the relationship dynamic, there is a bit of dynamic shifting (d/s), pet names like babydoll, reader calls him daddy, safe words and things of that nature, of course MNDI, modern

“Look, I’m not dealing with your bullshit.” You said annoyed, trying to close the door. “I’m not bullshitting. I mean it.” he said. “Eren, I'm not in the fucking mood today okay.” You stood with your front door cracked, one foot nudged behind it to keep him outside.

“Come on. Please, hear me out.” he begged. You look into his eyes, a hint of desperation lingering. What the hell is his game this time? You were all too familiar with this cat and mouse mind maze he always played with you. Yet as self aware as you are, you somehow always fall back into the traps. Like Vickie Lo, it's always break up to make up just to break up again. Why? Who knows. You could always blame it on the toe curling make up sex every time yall had whenever you gave into him. Or the fact that you didn't respect myself enough as a woman to not allow a man to treat you like this, at least that's what your great grandmother would often remind you each time you went over for family dinners. Yet, she wonders why she doesn’t see you as much anymore. Or it could simply be that for some reason, you actually cared about him and dealing with the stress was easier than not dealing with him at all. At least that's what you’ve always told yourself each time you ran back to him. The truth of the matter is you didn't want to let him go because you didn't know how to. Eren had been your first of many things. Your best friend, Your first kiss, Your first love. You’ve known each for as long as you could remember.

It wasn’t a mystery that he would be your first in bed as well. Honestly, you both were amazing together…except when you were together. For some reason, the moment you started to take your relationship seriously, everything went to hell. It's like you couldn’t get it right no matter how hard you tried. But it was always a constant in your life, him being there. So your lives went in a consistent loop of ups and downs. In this moment, you were in another down as he stood on your porch doing the same thing he’s always done. Crawled back when he’s sick of being alone. “Babydoll. Please, just let me in.” he pleaded, pressing a hand against the door. “For what Eren? So you can pull the same bullshit you always do?” you spit out. “I’m not bullshitting you this time.” he explained, his hands pressing into the oak wood on the door. “Okay, so say what you have to say right here.” You said, putting a hand against your hip, a smirk at your lips. “Right here? On the porch?” he asks, confused. “Yes, since you got so much to fucking say. You don't need to be in my house to say it. Matter of fact..” you start to get louder but the sound of your neighbors screen door caught your attention. You roll your eyes.

If your elderly neighbor was one thing, it was nosey. She was always poking her head out searching for drama for her brunch club and unfortunately for you, your life has become her most recent soap opera. You clench your jaw in frustration as you turn your attention back to the cause for the current drama. “Eren, I really don't have the fucking time to deal with this today. So if you got something to say, hurry up and get it over with.” You say, trying to get this over with. “If you want me to then okay. I’ll say whatever right here. But I want you to listen to me this time and not just let me talk. Will you at least promise me that?” He asked. You open your mouth to speak but the squeaking of her door interrupted you again. She stood there with her head peeking out of the door, anticipating the mes to unfold. You were at the end of your wits. It was one thing to have to deal with him but, she was a whole different story. “I’m sorry. Do you need something?” You call out to her. Her eyes widen slightly before she narrows them at the both of you. You tilt your head at her, waiting for a smart comment to come out of her mouth. You’ve always been taught to respect your elders but today was one of those days.

She huffed and mumbled under her breath as she slinked back into her house, shutting the door behind her. You rolled your eyes again and turned back to Eren once more. “Now back to you.” Your anger was getting worse. Why was he even here? You were set to gave a great lazy day at home. That was indicated by the oversized university sweats hanging off his hips, your pink laced g-string peeking out of the top. A tight fitted cropped tank with the word “ANGEL” pasted across your breasts. Your snack-cuterie board was stocked to the brim and all your favorite Disney classics were queued up on the tv. You had all the makings of a lazy day in. So it was obvious to say that you were pissed that your night came crashing down once you opened your door to a set of bright emerald eyes staring down at you. “Babydoll?” He called pulling you from your thoughts.

“Stop calling me that.” You say, annoyed at him. “Okay, y/n. Please. You want me to beg? I will literally get on my knees and beg. Right here. I just need this chance. I mean it.” He says, slowly beginning to drop to his knees. Fuck you think to yourself. “Eren…” you say, letting out a frustrated sigh. He had already dropped one knee to the ground and seeing him like that sent a chill down your spine. You quickly shook the image from your mind. “Would you get up? You're making a scene.” You fuss pulling at his arm. Confusion laced his face as he lifted himself to standing. “You just told me…” he started. “I know what I said. I just…damn it. Eren, seriously what the hell do you want from me?” You groan, pressing your thumb and pointer finger against the bridge of your nose. “I want to talk to you.” He begged. “Why? There is nothing for us to even talk about.” Your arms fly up in the air with frustration at the consistent badgering. Normally he would’ve given in by now, giving you time to cool off before he came back a few days later pestering you again. What the fuck is his problem.

“All I need is five minutes. That’s all. And I’m done.” He tried compromising. This is not going to end well. I just know it. Everything in you wanted to say no. You met his gaze, he stared in anticipation, eyes widened like a lost puppy as waited for you to respond. He needed you to let him in. He knew it was a lot to ask but this time, he couldn’t walk away. Not again. Eren stood in front of you, hands hanging by his side as his fingers twitched slightly from his nerves. He opened his mouth to try and plead his case again for the umpteenth time but you spoke before he could utter a word. “Fuck. Okay, fine.” You reluctantly give in to him. His eyes widened with hope “You get two minutes. That’s it. So you better make this shit count.” You say as you ease up on the door and let him inside. He nodded his head frantically as he made his way inside. What the fuck have I done you think to yourself as you follow behind him, closing the door and turning the bolt lock

“How does it feel, baby girl?” he cooed. A soft moan escaped through the cherry gloss of your lips as his fingers gently caressed the throbbing bundle of nerves between your legs. Fuck. You think to yourself. “Come on babydoll, talk to me.” he continued, adding slightly more pressure. Your eyes roll towards the back of your head as you let it drop back into the satin covered pillow. Damn this feels so fucking good. Eren continues with slow counterclockwise circles, adjusting the pressure with each motion. Your body is reeling as the waves of pleasure roll through you. His fingers slip inside of you causing your body to jolt forward, arching your back from the bed and pressing your pussy into his hand. He presses the palm of his hand onto your clit as he pumps his middle and ring fingers into you slowly. His digits gently caress your insides, your slickness dripping out onto the sheets below you. Eren curves his fingers upwards towards your g-spot, making a “come here” gesture as he pleases you.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

He works you over slowly, breaking down your mental wall and sending your body further down the pleasure spiral. Your body has a mind of its own as it starts to shift forward, rocking back and forth against his long, skilled fingertips. A smile graced his face as he pushes the digits all the way inside of you, coaxing out another whimper from your lips. He pushes them into the knuckles as your body releases against his hand, your cum coating his palm and dripping to his wrist. Eren pulls his fingers from inside of you and brings his hand to his mouth, dragging his tongue up his palm and swallowing your juices. He quickly drops down and presses his belly against the mattress so that his face is lined up with your pussy. He wasted no time dragging his tongue from your opening up to your clit, licking up the mess he just made. You legs threaten to close but he brings his hands up to your inner thighs pressing them to the sides of the bed. “Ereeeen..fuck.” You cry out as he flicks the tip of his tongue against your clit.

Eren knew your body like it was his own. Let him tell it, it was his own. He knew every spot to hit to make you squirm underneath him. You watch as he takes his time, devouring you. His eyes raise up from between your legs and catch your stare. The burning gaze made your heart flutter. Eren stares into your soul as he slows his pace. You watch him pull back and flatten his tongue before bringing it forward and pressing it between your legs, covering your lips. He let his saliva drip all over you as he slid his tongue against your folds, swirling his tongue in wide zig zag motions as the fluids drenched your pussy. An audible gasp escapes your lips once the warmth of his mouth covers the hood of your clit. He twists the tip of his tongue in small circles around your clit as he continues to suck the hood between his lips. Your head falls back, mouth in an O as a whispered fuck coasted into the air. Your orgasm rolls into a ball in your belly, the tingles tickling your core before it explodes from your center and covers your entire body in ecstasy.

Eren watches you through hooded eyes as he sucks your juices down his throat. He loves seeing the way you fall apart under him. He would do anything to keep that blissful look on your face. He lapped at you, the wetness the only sound ringing in his ear aside from your broken pants. “Rennie…” you pant, rubbing your hands through his soft tresses and tugging at him. A growl came from his chest as he tugs your clit slightly with his lips. He cleans you with his tongue before raising himself up. Your essence drips down his chin and trickles onto his chest. He licks his lips and meets your gaze again. “You good?” He raises a brow at you. His voice is thick with lust as he hints at what he wants. You knew what he was asking for, the indentations in his voice make it evident. You take a few steady breaths before parting your legs wider and flattening yourself against the mattress. He smirks down at you and cups his hands underneath your upper thighs, slipping you deeper into his web.

“E, fuck…” your mind goes blank as he rubs his tip gently against your core. He pauses for just a moment, checking you over. “You okay baby? You need me to stop?” He looks at you, gaze still heavy but more alert that he was before to your needs. You take the time to peek pass your abdomen and down to his dick. He normally hung low but when he was erect, his soldier stood at full attention. His tip pink with arousal, threatening to leak. “Babydoll?” He asks, stepping back a bit to give you room to breathe. “N-no, I’m okay.” You drag your eyes back up to his face. “You sure?’ He asks again, still standing in his position. “Yes.” Your voice was certain this time. “I’m sure.” You assure him as you lean back again and wait for him to come close. He pauses a moment and then steps closer, gripping his dick and lining it back up with your center. He gives you one more look which you acknowledge with a slight nod, before pressing his length all the way inside of you.

“Ereeeeen.. mmm. Fuckfuckfuck.” You cry out. Your fingers pale against your grip of the sheets as he stretches your pussy out. How the hell did I fall for this again? The thought forced itself into your head. But you already knew the answers. This was nothing new. The up and down cycle. But, emotionally, something has changed. You aren’t sure if it was your lust riddled brain or the ounce of hope left in your heart but this time felt so different. The way he dropped to his knees before you on my porch. The pleading that reached up through his eyes. It seemed as if it was more genuine than you were used to. He poured into you, fucking your anger out of your system. “Oh my GOD, E!” You call out, his thrusting forcing you out of your thoughts and back to reality. “Fuck baby I missed this pussy so much.” He groans as he strokes you deeper. Your moans match his as he brings his body closer, hovering over you and pressing his hand into the headboard behind you. You shift your hips back a small fraction to try and allow yourself a slight breath from the way he was digging into your guts.

“Damn baby, you running from me already? We just getting started.” He jokes, his voice straining. He reaches his left arm and slides it under your hips and yanks you back to him, thrusting forward into your pussy, a bubble of your cum leaks out around him. You scream out to him, nails gripping into his back as he fucks you, crescents carving into his paled skin. “Rennie, please baby.” You cry. “You remember your safe word, yeah babydoll?” He asks as he pulls his hips back, allowing you to breathe. Mango you repeat in your head as you nod at him. “Good fucking girl.” He growls before ramming back into you. Your eyes roll back in your head as you grip the sheets until your knuckles turn white. His emerald gaze finds your amber one as his tips caresses your cervix. “Whose pussy is it babydoll? Who does it belong to?” He whispers through strokes. Your head was clouded with lust. “It’s yours daddy.” You bellow out.

“Fuck, you take daddy’s dick so well. My perfect fucking babydoll. I'm so proud of you.” He works you to another orgasm, your legs start to shake as your walls contract around his dick. Eren slips into your folds so effortlessly, knowing you were slowly crafted to fit his length. His muscles strained as he pleases you, he wanted to hold back. He needed to make sure you got yours even if he didn’t at all. His breathing got deep and choppy and his pace shifted. The strokes slow to a more sensual pace, a stark contrast to the rough hard ones from earlier. Eren’s hips roll into yours, pinpointing that gummy spot in your lower abdomen. If Eren was going to do one thing, it would be please you. He would give you ten orgasms and still coax more from you before he even thought about himself. But you wouldn't let him. Not this time. You are going to make him give you all of him. If he meant what he said on your porch, you would force him to show you.

“Daddy.” You moan. A shiver runs down Eren’s spine at the name, a low gasp breaking through his tightened lips. “Don’t stop, okay?” You beg, your chest rapidly rising and falling. Widened eyes met yours as Eren swallowed the lump in his throat. “Please don’t stop.” You cry out. “Oh fuck.” He moans softly. His strokes continue but at a sloppier and inconsistent pace. “Baby…I- I can’t.” He whimpers, dropping his head into your shoulder. “Please Rennie, I want it baby.” You reach your arms up and pull his chest against yours, your thighs tighten around his waist and you lock your ankles above him. That familiar sense of obsession took over you as you held his body firmly to yours. “I want it baby please. I want you to cum for me.” You plead. He lets out a strangled groan, pressing closer to you, anything to relieve himself of the energy streaking through his bloodstream. “Y/n, baby please. I can’t.” He whispers into your skin. You clench around him, your body still as he sits sheathed inside of you, your throbbing walls massaging his pulsing tip as you breathe in tandem. You give him a moment to steady his breathing but you won’t let him go.

“Do you remember your safe word?” You echo his question from earlier. It takes Eren a moment, brain still fogged from lust. “Huh?” He lets out. “Do you remember your safe word?” You repeat the question. Eren looks you in your eyes, swallowing heavily before giving you a slight nod. “Do you need it?” You ask him. He pauses a moment, contemplating his next move. You waited patiently, your big brown eyes staring into his. He takes another choppy breath before shaking his head no. A sadistic feline smile graces your plump lips as you send him over the edge

“Then cum in this pussy daddy.”

His body shudders on top of yours. “Oh my…Ba-baby, I can’t.” He stuttered. “Of course you can baby. I know you can.” You encourage him. You reposition your feet under your body, pressing them flat against the mattress so that you can grind your hips up towards his body. Eren bites down into his lips, his eyes rolling at the sensation of your bodies pleasing each other once again. “Do I feel good to you baby?” You tease him. He lets out a low guttural moan. “I can’t hear you.” You state, demanding a response from him. “Yes.” he whispers, not wanting to break. He was always the one in control. He was the pleaser, the one to care for you. This was different for him and he wasn’t sure about how far you were willing to go. But he wanted to. For once in his life, he wanted to feel something real and allow himself the luxury of being cared for. But that wouldn’t mean he would give in so easily. But that wouldn’t stop you from trying.

“Are you holding back from me daddy?” You tease him. He shakes his head in response, trying desperately to swallow the lump in his throat as your hips continue to grind against his dick. “It’s your pussy daddy. Take it.” You revel in the way his restraint was crumbling at your words. His composure slips as the transference of dominance shifted from his body to yours. “Fuck me daddy.” Your voice carries through the room. Eren felt himself toppling over the edge, the buildup he was holding back threatening to flood your walls. “Come on. I’ve been a good girl daddy please. I promise.” You sweet talk him. Your gazes meet and he stares down into your glossy eyes, tears slipping out the corners. He never takes the time to really look into to your eyes during sex but this time, he held your gaze like it was the last time he would see it. It was as if something snapped in place. A new level of possession overtook his senses as his eyes darkened.

Eren pulled his arms from your sides, sliding his hands down to your wrists. His long fingers gripped both wrists, pinning them together in a wrist lock above your head. The growl that comes from his body is nothing he’s never experienced before as he begins to stroke faster. “Yes, baby.” You cry out to him, head tossed back in bliss as your manicured toes curls into Cs beneath you. Eren widens his legs so that he can sink lower into the bed and fuck you deeper, aggression increasing with his pace. “Rennie, please—just like that baby. Fuck, you’re in my fucking stomach.” You cry. “Yeah you like that shit huh? You like me fucking you like this?” He asks. “Yes, baby. I love it. Fuck, i love it.” “Shit.” he says. He pounds your pussy without remorse, your eyes travel down his chest to where your bodies were connecting.

Your belly jumping every time his dick made contact. Thick hot spirals of energy light your body on fire as your cheeks flush from the heat. Fuck he’s going to make me cum again. You tense up, the arch in your back expanding but you watch while he continues to stroke you. “Fuck, you’re so fucking pretty babydoll. You taking this dick like a champ baby.” Eren praises you. “Baby, you're going to make me cum. Please.” Your body shakes and convulses under his touch. He grunts, strokes getting heavy. “Fuck Rennie, you’re going to split me in pieces.” You cry out as your body gushes underneath him. You release a noise you never heard before as you feel yourself let go. “Fuck, baby I’m going to nut.” He says as his seed paints the inside of your body. You feel the warmth raising your body temperature. His body convulsed as his dick throbs in your pussy. Damn he feels so fucking good. He sits there breathing heavily, still for a moment as you both process everything that happened.

“You didn't use your safe word.” You state looking up at the ceiling. “Neither did you.” He whispered. He stares down at you as you stare up into bliss. Eren took the time to take you in. Your thick hair fluffed all around your face, face glistening with afterglow, twin toned lips parted slightly as your chest rises and falls. Eren’s heart strummed in his chest. What the fuck. His brows furrowed slightly at the unfamiliar feeling trying to take over him again. You finally turned to meet his gave and his heart nearly jumped into your hands. “You okay Rennie?” You say softly. “Ye-yeah. We should get you cleaned up babydoll.” He smiles at you. “You’re finished already?” You pout. His eyes widened in shock. “You’re not??” You shrug your shoulders at his response. “It’s been a while.” You say shifting your body up. He gets caught off guard for a moment at the intensity of your stare. You smirk, pushing into his chest until he is pressed back onto the bed, your body hovering over his, pussy still dripping with both of your releases. “Babydoll.” His breath quickens, tones hands gripping your waist as he tries to force them to stop shaking.

“Relaaaax. I’m not going to do anything crazy.” You say as you lean down and press your lips to his, savoring in the softness. Your tongue grazes against his lips pulling a soft moan from his mouth into yours. You separate for air, instead trailing kisses across his jaw and up behind his ear. “Fuck…” His hands squeeze you in warning. “Okay, okay. I'm done.” You pull back. “I need food.” You unmount him and slip down the bed, feet pressing into the floor. Your legs shake underneath you and you reach out to steady yourself. “You good babydoll?” He asks coming to sit in front of your standing frame. You nod slightly, trying to get your balance. “I got you princess.” He slips off the mattress and comes up behind you. He leans you back into his arm and the other wraps around the back of your knees, lifting you bridal style and carrying you to the bathroom to get cleaned up. “Rennie?” You ask. “Hmm?” He responds. “You should apologize more often.” You tease. He laughs out loud, “Yeah, sure. As much as you want babygirl.” He says before prepping your bath.

[1-imaginary-girl]

Annoying

Five Hargreeves x Reader

Summary: It’s no secret Five finds you annoying. In fact, he frequently tells you this. Maybe he even goes too far. But when someone else insults you, Five realizes that only he’s allowed to do that. Reader is gender neutral.

Warnings: Hurtful comments said to the reader

Word Count: 3500

A/N: I’m alive! So long story short, I lost the motivation to write for a while which caused my spontaneous hiatus. I honestly wasn’t sure if I would post anything again. But then, I rediscovered comfort in writing, especially when it’s about my best boys. 

My posting from now on may be a bit sporadic as I’m back in school but I do intend to keep posting.

Anyway, here’s my favourite grumpy boy as a treat!

Five Hargreeves had gotten used to working at the Commission. He still hated every second of it: the job, the people, the killings. But he had adapted, just like he had in the apocalypse, and had fallen into a familiar routine that made the situation easier to swallow. He had finally accepted his job and made peace with it. That is, until you came along.

You also work at the Commission as a field agent and until recently, Five didn’t even know of your existence. Then one day, you came into his office and tried to chat with him. He was bewildered of course and told you to get the hell out of his face. But his rude words didn’t deter you. Instead, you asked him if he wanted to be your partner in the field. Again, Five was shocked and told you absolutely not. Unfortunately, you don’t seem to take no as an answer.

Every day since then, you kept popping into his life. Every day you would make nice with him, do him favours, and were overall friendly with him. Every day, he offered you nothing but a cold shoulder. Every day you asked him to be your partner and every day he told you no.

It was extremely aggravating to say the least. He tried to report you to the Handler but she told him you were doing nothing wrong. She even made some suggestive comments that made Five regret ever going to her for help. So he was on his own.

Except none of his usual moves worked. You never shied away from his negative presence. If he blinked away, you would somehow find him again. There seemed to be no way to remove you from his life.

He’s sitting in his office working when he hears a sound he has come to dread. “Knock knock,” you say as you open his door, not waiting for a response. He once asked you, “What if I was doing something private?” but that only made him flush at the accidental implication and you laughed.

“Not now,” he mumbles, not taking his eyes off his work.

“Yes now,” you say, entering the room and taking a seat on the other side of his desk. He doesn’t know why he hasn’t just removed the chair since the only person who ever used it was you. “I brought you coffee!”

This causes him to glance up, only a little, and what a mistake that turns out to be. There you sit, a beaming smile spread across your face. Your eyes tend to light up when you smile, bringing attention to how stunning they are. Thoughts like these make him feel queasy, at least that’s what he’s deeming it to be. His face also tends to heat up and his breathing acts funny. He’s considered a few times that he was sick, but every test indicated otherwise.

This is another thing that bothers him so much about you. You bring unknown feelings that Five has never experienced before, and he hates feelings, let alone unfamiliar ones.

“The answer is still, and always will be, no,” he says blankly, his eyes focused on his computer but he isn’t paying attention to what’s on the screen.

“But I haven’t even said my pitch yet!” you complain. Without looking, he knows you’re looking at him with big puppy dog eyes. He would never admit, even to himself, that they affect him. “I think today’s speech is much better—”

“Doesn’t matter, still a no.”

You ignore him and clear your throat. “As your partner—”

“Stop.”

“I would bring you freshly made coffee every morning, just the way you like it,” you continue. He decides to stop talking to you altogether. With concentration, he’s able to read the words on the screen and continue typing. “You can still take lead on the missions, though you’ll find I’m fairly skilled on the field. This will also reduce the danger of getting hurt, and if one of us does get hurt, the other can patch them up.”

It is a pain to tend to my own wounds, Five thinks before mentally berating himself. He’s supposed to be ignoring you. And besides, he’s been taking care of himself for years, he’s used to the difficulties by now.

“Another bonus, is that with me as your partner, the Handler won’t be on you as much,” you say, and despite himself, he listens. “She’ll know that someone else has their eyes on you, and with my reputation, she’ll trust me with it.”

Now that actually sounds desirable. The Handler is always checking in on him and keeping a watchful eye on his actions. She knows he’s a good agent, he’s proved that by now, but she still worries that he might betray them. This makes him a loose canon in her eyes. Plus, with her attention elsewhere he’ll be able to make more progress on his secret project to return to his family—

Stop it, he tells himself. This is exactly what you want. You actually have him considering the possibility of becoming partners. The more your voice fills his ears and the more he thinks about what it would mean to have you as a partner, the more his face starts to burn.

He can feel himself losing control over his emotions and he panics. Clearly, ignoring you is not the solution.

“That’s enough!” he yells, causing you to pause mid-sentence. He looks over at you to see your wide eyes staring at him. For the first time, he sees a crack in your positive shield. He continues. “God, just stop already. I am so sick and tired of you groveling at my feet, it is so annoying. Why won’t you get this through your head? I am never partnering with anyone, especially not with you! So for the last time, leave me alone!”

A deadly silence fills the room. Five is panting from his outburst and when his anger recedes, he finds he’s shocked at himself. He’s never had an outburst like that, never yelled like that before. Sure he gets angry and frustrated all of the time, but he hardly ever yells and his words are never that venomous. He just got so riled up with his emotions…

You also seem shocked. You try to cover it up, but he can still tell. You seem unsure of what to say and your usual peppiness seems to have vanished as well. Five isn’t sure how to feel. He also isn’t sure of what to do.

You then clear your throat. “Well then,” you say, trying to piece yourself together. “You seem busy so I should go.” You grin but its wobbly and it doesn’t meet your eyes. And despite himself, he feels sorry. You wordlessly stand up and exit his office.

The silence remains and Five is left frozen. After a moment, he shakes his head and tries to feel unbothered by what just happened.

†††

A few hours have passed since his conversation with you, and Five is out of coffee. He blinks to the Commission’s break room but then he sees you there. You’re standing at the counter with your back to him and in a moment of panic, he blinks to behind a wall just around the corner from the break room.  

He curses silently. He can’t believe that he’s hiding from you after earlier. Maybe he just doesn’t want to deal with your emotions. Or maybe he’s hiding from his own.

He’s about to just toughen up and deal with it when he hears someone else entering the room. “Y/N, how nice to see you,” he hears someone say. He looks to see a woman approaching you. Five thinks he’s seen her around but doesn’t recognize her. He’s tried not to make friends here or fill his mind with useless information. This means he only knows a few people including you and the Handler.

“Cassandra,” he hears you say in a bitter tone. He frowns. He’s never heard you speak like that.

“How have you been?” Cassandra asks and Five doesn’t know why, but she sounds ingenuine despite her cheery tone. He also suspects her smile to be too friendly.

“Fine.” You don’t even look over at her as you continue whatever you were doing at the counter. It isn’t like you to be short with people, and Five wonders if it’s because of what he said.

“I heard you got in trouble with the Handler this morning,” Cassandra says. Oh shit, Five thinks. He isn’t sure if that happened before or after he yelled at you but either way, he doesn’t envy your morning.

“Yup,” is your only response. Cassandra doesn’t seem satisfied by your response. She walks over and leans against the counter next to you.

“That must have been awful. I hope she doesn’t fire you soon,” she says with false concern. You still don’t glance her way. You simply nod your head absentmindedly as your focus remains locked on the kettle in front of you, waiting for the water to boil. Cassandra just keeps talking. “Are you still bugging Agent Five about being his partner?”

Five’s ears begin to burn as the conversation steers towards him. Now more than ever, he thinks he should leave this private conversation, but his feet remain glued to the floor. What does he care? he tries to tell himself, but it doesn’t work.

He watches as you grip the counter tightly. Unfortunately, Cassandra also seems to notice and she takes that as an answer. “Aw you poor thing,” she says, putting her hand on your shoulder only for you to shrug it off.

“Look Cassandra,” you say, your voice filled with agitation. “I’ve had a really bad day, if you could just—”

“I can only imagine,” the woman says, and Five is starting to really dislike her. “It must be hard, getting rejected day after day. I’m surprised you haven’t given up.”

“Fuck it.” You push yourself off the counter. You turn around and Five ducks back around the corner. “I’ll come back later.”

There’s a moment of silence before, “Do you know why he keeps rejecting you?” Five risks a glance to see that you’ve turned back around.

“What?” you say, surprised by the question.

“It’s the same reason why all of the others rejected you,” she says, which takes Five by surprise. He didn’t know there were others. An illogical flare of jealousy rises in him before he stomps it out.

“You’re annoying,” she says, her tone one of false sympathy. “No one wants to be around you. You come on way too strong and, sweetie, you reek of desperation.”

“S-stop,” you say, in shock but also seemingly hit by a bullet of emotions. Even Five is surprised.

“You’re just a nuisance,” Cassandra says. “A pest that no one can get rid of. That’s why you’ve never found a partner and that’s why you never will. I mean, who could like you let alone stand you?”

“Cassandra…” you say and Five can hear the quiver in your voice. He doesn’t know why, but the sound makes his chest tighten.

“Face it, Y/N,” she says, now standing right in front of you. “You were always meant to be alone.” Finally, Five can’t take it anymore. He walks out from around the corner and glares at Cassandra. He finds himself loathing her. Only he is allowed to call you annoying.

Cassandra glances past you and looks surprised to see him there. Just like that, she has on her friendly looking face again. “Oh hey there Fi—” she starts to say to him.

“Get out,” he spits at her. Her eyes widen at his venomous tone but decides to listen, scurrying away. It’s nice to see his fearful reputation precedes him. There’s a silence that settles in the room once she’s left. You seem to be frozen in place, not even turning to face him. He isn’t sure what to do himself, whether to somehow approach you or to ignore you entirely.

Luckily, his decision is made for him as you wordlessly walk back up to the counter towards the kettle. Five clears his throat, trying to rid himself of this awkward feeling, and walks up beside you.

He doesn’t address you, after all he normally isn’t the one to start the conversation. Which is why it’s so odd when you don’t. The two of you move about silently, completing your individual tasks. He finds he can’t even look at you, for the downtrodden look on your face still inflicts pain upon him. Finally, after an agonizing amount of time, you speak.

“Five,” you say, also clearing your throat. “I, uh, I have some good news for you.”

He sees that you’re trying to plaster on your usual happy appearance but it’s broken and he can see right through it.

He expects you to say something along the lines of “I forgive you for earlier” or “I made you some coffee.” He expects you to forgive him and act as normal. He did not, however, expect your actual words.

“I will no longer be bothering you with my presence.” Normally, these words would send him jumping for joy. After all, this is what he’s been wanting. But after the conversation he overheard, something gave him pause.

“Oh?” he says, at a loss for words as he is caught off guard.

“Yeah,” you say with a forced smile. “I’ve realized that I haven’t been respecting your feelings, as you have made it more than clear that you don’t want me as a partner and that you never will.”

He hears your voice crack towards the end and he can’t help but compare your words to Cassandra’s. “Yes I uh…I appreciate that,” he says, hesitant with his words. He isn’t sure what to make of all of this.        

“Right,” you say, straightening yourself. You pick up your mug and turn to fully face him. He tries to ignore the shine of incoming tears in your eyes. “See you around. And uh, sorry for bothering you.”

Before he can say anything else, you turn and exit the room, leaving Five in a state of uncertainty.

†††

When Five walks into work the next morning, he’s not on edge like he usually is. He normally expects you to greet him on his way to his office, but there’s no sight of you. After Five recovered from his shock, he decided he should be happy about the situation. Sure, he didn’t want you to get hurt, but he got what he wanted.

He settles into his office and gets to work. He reaches to take a sip of his coffee when he realizes there’s nothing there. Oh, right. You normally got his morning coffees for him. Not a big deal, he thinks. If anything, this shows what a nuisance you had been for changing his routine.

Throughout the next couple of days, he starts to realize what an impact you had made on him. For one, the coffee doesn’t taste as good, which is odd. Then he noticed his plant started to die. Five didn’t even know he had a plant. He got rid of it and suddenly felt that his office was colder. He knows it’s illogical, but he didn’t realize how it brightened the room.

And most of all, he found his normal routine to be rather dull. Normally, you would interrupt his work and give a small relief to the boring workload. His room is quieter than ever and the days start to blend together.

But this is what he wanted wasn’t it? To finally be on his own? It’s not like he missed your ramblings, or the sound of your laugh, or your happy disposition, or the way you brightened his day. No. He’s better off alone…

He doesn’t even believe himself. He scowls. How could he let this happen? How could he let someone in and affect him so much to a point where he missed them? He thinks about ignoring his feelings and soldiering on, as is his way, but the thought of going on like this for God knows how long makes him reconsider.

Goddamn you.

†††

He had never seen your office before. He didn’t even know you had an office up until now. He thought, a bit conceitedly perhaps, that he was the only field agent with an office. Maybe you weren’t exaggerating when you said you were good.

Your door is left open, possibly to be more inviting and welcoming. It’s perfectly you. Five looks in to see your head down, writing something at your desk, and takes a moment to consider you. God, he had missed you. He feels a little excited just seeing you there. Is he that lonely and desperate?

He knocks on your door and stands in the doorway. You lift your head and your eyes widen in surprise to see him. He tries not to look uncomfortable under your gaze.

“Oh! Hey Five,” you say, cautiously. You’re not as bubbly around him anymore, almost afraid to scare him off. He doesn’t like it. “What can I do for—”

Before you can finish, Five drops a file onto your desk. You look at him in surprise. There’s a silence. “What’s this?” you ask.

“Read it,” he snaps at you, his nerves getting the better of him. You open the file and he sees surprise overtake your whole face.

“This…this is a request to have me as your partner,” you say quietly, not knowing how to react.

“This has nothing to do with your pestering, by the way,” Five says. “I thought about it and came to my own conclusion that a partner would be beneficial. I thought since you were already willing, it was the simpler choice.”

As he speaks, he watches your disbelief change into joy and a bright smile returns to your face. It’s almost infectious.

“This is incredible,” you say. And then something changes and your smile drops into a frown, which makes him upset. Not that he was doing this for you, but he thought you’d be happy. “But I thought…I thought I annoyed you. What changed?”

He feels guilt tug at him. It seems his outburst stuck with you. “I…might have overreacted the other day. You do annoy me, but I didn’t mean it like that.” You nod at this and he senses it isn’t enough to convince you. Fuck it. He’s already in this deep. “I suppose, as a gesture of good faith as your new partner, and only for this occasion…I owe you an apology.”

Your eyes shoot up at him and he falters. Then he clears his throat and prays no one else is around to hear this. “I am…sorry, for any hurt my outburst may have caused you.” He could count on one hand the number of times he has genuinely apologized to someone. But apparently it works, as your frown is gone.

“Oh, um, thank you,” you say, unsure how to respond to his sudden change in character. There’s an awkward pause before you smile. You hold out your hand and say, “Partners?”

It’s such a sweet gesture of forgiveness that Five finds his mouth twitching upwards. “Partners,” he says, shaking your hand. He ignores the sparks he feels when his hand touches yours. But he has been sentimental for far too long.

He ends the handshake and clears his throat once more. “To be clear, this is not an official contract, you still have to sign the paper,” he says but the smile cannot be erased from your face.

“Yes, of course! I will handle that right away,” you say. “This is so exciting! You will not regret this.”

“I better not,” he says. “This doesn’t change anything between us, we’re not friends.”

“Yet,” you say with a cheeky smile. He is much more relieved to see you acting as your normal self again.

“Y/N I’m serious—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. This is going to be so fun,” you giggle, seemingly ignoring what he just said. “Thank you.”

You’re looking up at him, a soft smile on your lips and a twinkle in your eye. He falters again as he feels heat rising in his cheeks. He looks away.

“No need to thank me, just make sure that request is signed and submitted.”

“Aye, aye, cap’n,” you salute him and he takes this as his cue to leave. He turns and you call out, “See you around!”

He doesn’t respond, or rather he can’t. He’s already starting to regret this and not because of the reason you think. Seeing you all happy and excitement caused his heart to swell with a feeling he isn’t familiar with. He doesn’t like this unknown territory and change. But he has to admit…

It felt kind of nice.

[aniesvision]

𝑵𝒐𝒕 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒚𝒑𝒆

𓅷 Nick Sturniolo x F! Reader

it's a platonic fic!!!

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒄, 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕, 𝒔𝒖𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆, 𝒄𝒓𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒋𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒔/𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇𝒊𝒔𝒉, 𝒏𝒊𝒄𝒌 𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂 𝒃𝒊𝒕 𝒎𝒆𝒂𝒏 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈!

𝚊/𝚗: 𝐡𝐢!! 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 ☹︎ 𝐢'𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐭'𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐯, 𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 ♡︎ 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫: 𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞 ☕︎

𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐭

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆

-Nick, I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to-

I tried to explain, but he interrupted me before I could, tossing his phone on his pocket.

-Yes, you fucking did! And honestly, I don't care, it's none of my business.

He raises his hands in defense, looking at me with a clear look of disappointment and disapproval.

-If you still think like that it's only bad for you considering you're definitely not his type anyways. -He shrugs, making me furrow my eyebrows, completely taken aback by his words.

-Oh. -It's the only thing I managed to say.

We looked at each other in silence, his eyes softening when he realized that the way he said it might've been too harsh.

⁺₊⋆ 3rd person ⁺₊⋆

With his emotions mixed and the tension of the moment, Nick's mind processed mean thoughts that walked along the lines "whatever, it's not like she's good enough to make him like her", which was selfish. The only reason he didn't want her to still be into Matt was that he didn't want to lose her friendship. And he sounded mad, with the same sarcastic tone he used when he was talking about things he hates.

You didn't even need to process the next steps, it was an automatic move to turn around and leave. The whole situation runned through your mind over and over again and you just couldn't find a reasonable explanation of what happened. He looked so mad at you just because he found out an old twitter account of yours and he happened to read about your old crush on Matt.

It wasn't that serious. Before y'all met and became friends, you were a fan. They didn't seem to mind, it just made things easier. You liked their content, you were excited to be around them and you made a good impression. Never seemed to be a problem, so you didn't make an effort to erase all the things you said when you were just someone behind the screen watching their car videos at random fridays.

You didn't use that account for almost a year now, you created a new one and never talked about it anymore, so it was hard to assimilate that you had another one before. But Nick somehow found it, and he wasn't pleased to see that you were a loyal Matt girl.

To be fair, you did say some weird things. Not bad, but definitely... explicit. You used to like Matt's personality, the way he was mostly calm, but made his point whenever he was done with being interrupted, the way he looked at the camera like you were there with them, the way his tattoos looked, his veins, his smirk, his expressions, his cute laugh and how intense his eyes seemed to be even through the screen.

It was unrealistic to think that some day you'd even talk to him. To any of those three. But when it happened, and you found yourself growing a nice and healthy friendship with them, all those thoughts were left behind and you no longer felt that way about Matt.

At least, that's what you thought. You didn't even remembered that you once said so many explicit things about Matt, but for you it was all in the past, so when Nick brought it back up you felt terrified.

He wasn't exactly mad, you were all adults and if you wanted to fuck Matt it was none of his business, but he was so sure he'd lose you somehow to his brother if you did that he was selfish enough to make it look like you weren't good enough to.

Of course he talked to you in private, calling you to his room and showing you some screenshots of your old tweets. You were so pale, like you've just seen a ghost. You didn't know how he managed to find that account, he doesn't even have an account of his own, but he was showing you things you didn't remember but were definitely wrote by you.

You tried and tried to apologize, but he wouldn't listen. You were heartbroken when you realized you probably screwed up your friendship with him. And not only with him, but definitely with his brothers too.

You walked away from his room, knowing it'd be useless talking to him in this state. If you were lucky maybe he'd calm down and text you, but it wasn't up to you to go after him.

⁺₊⋆ end of 3rd person ⁺₊⋆

Driving back home after knowing I probably fucked things up is something I've never thought I'd be doing. It's so hard to understand that things I've said in the past got in between my friendship with one of the best friends I've ever had. It's even harder to stay patient and wait. I want so badly to know if it's all over or if I still have a chance to be friends with him.

After parking on the garage, I walked up the stairs to my apartment, locking myself in and taking a deep breath. The tears rolled down my cheeks immediately. My heart was in pain and the first thing I did when I sat on my bed was deleting that stupid account.

I thought about texting Matt, not knowing if Nick was going to mention it to him, but trying to avoid making things worse. Although I wanted to do something, my body couldn't find the motivation to. It was already ruined, so fuck it, right?

I ended up crying myself to sleep, and when I last checked there was no sign of texts or calls from Nick, or Matt, or anyone really.

I woke up late. Still no calls, no texts, no nothing. I sigh, frustrated, and walked to my bathroom, doing my routine. I looked terrible, my eyes were puffy and slightly red, I wanted to cry again just by looking at me on the mirror, but before I could the door bell rings. My heartbeats race and I take large steps to the front door, opening it.

-I'm sorry. -He whispers.

Nick looked equally tired and upset, his expressions way different than yesterday's. I was somehow speechless, even though I wanted so bad to say something. He steps forward, rubbing his face.

-I was selfish and acted like a bad friend and I'm sorry. -He says, closing the door behind him and dropping his space camp tote bag on the floor.

-It's okay. -I whisper back, giving him a small smile.

-No, it's not. -He shakes his head, running his hand through his hair. -I was scared that if you and Matt got together you'd stop spending time with me and I actually enjoy your company so I acted like a lunatic.

I giggle at his choice of words, wiping a single tear off my cheek. He smiles softly, pulling me into a hug.

-I'm sorry, I didn't mean what I said, I have no fucking clue what Matt's type is, and you're amazing so he'd be crazy not to want you back.

I hug him back, resting my chin on his shoulder and closing my eyes. We don't hug that often, so I was glad to embrace him and know that he was being honest.

-I would never stop spending time with you, you're my best friend, Nick. -I say, pulling back from the hug. -And I'm really not into Matt anymore.

He laughs, making me laugh too. He walks to the couch, throwing himself on it and sighning loudly.

-Well, too bad, he was the one who showed me the tweets and wanted me to know if you're still a "Matt girl." -He shrugs, making air quotes and getting the remote to turn on the tv.

My mouth drops in a giant 'O' shape, disbelieving his words and surprised with them.

-What?!

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒔 ✍︎

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