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smoft-demons · 3 months

Note

hey hey! I really like your writing :) I have a request for the brothers:

gn!mc who has trouble sleeping alone bc of nightmares. they can very rarely sleep but are great at hiding it, because they don’t want to bother anybody. they never notice because mc always sleeps fine during sleepovers??? until eventually the lack of sleep gets to them too much and it becomes too noticeable. how do they respond when mc (reluctantly) reveals the truth?

thank you and have a lovely day ❤️

Good prompt! I like this one :)

(This one took a good few hours! Hope you like it!)

MC has nightmares when they sleep alone

_______

Lucifer:

‘…something’s amiss with our human.’ Lucifer thinks.

He’s been observing them lately. Since he cracked down on his brothers sneaking into their room at night—in order to give the poor human a break, so they may rest well and have time to study for the upcoming wave of tests—they’ve been… sluggish. More forgetful. Their assignments are coming back notably worse. He was irritated at first, but when he brought them into his office to confront them about it, he couldn’t ignore how… off they seemed.

Lucifer sets his irritation with their slipping standards aside, in favour of concern. He is above petty reactions, he decides. No, he is reasonable enough to see that there must be a cause for this.

“MC. I did not call you here to berate you. I am not angry with you. Something is obviously wrong. Please, I cannot help you until you tell me what it is.”

You’re not sure if it’s the jarringly unmasked concern in his eyes, or the rising feeling of guilt for stressing him out more than usual that finally cracks your resolve.

Whatever it is, you confide in him. You tell him that you’ve not been sleeping well. He pries the reason out of you, by pointing out his observations about the timing.

Begrudgingly, you admit to having nightmares when you try to sleep alone.

Outwardly, he remains businesslike and practical as always. In his mind, he’s facepalming. In retrospect, the signs are all there! How did he not notice??

He feels just a bit sorry, too. In his attempt to help you, he directly made everything worse. What a great job he’s done…

Then he snaps out of it and steels himself. There’s no use dwelling on that! He can fix this. Very, very easily!

“I see. Then, sleep in my room tonight. I will ensure no nightmares bother you. Once you’ve recovered enough to learn again, I will help you bring your grades back up to your usual standard. Is this satisfactory?”

He refuses to hear any guilt from you about imposing, or taking up his time, or being a burden.

“I am choosing to carry you, MC. There’s no burden.”

From that point on, you’re always welcome in his bed. On the rare occasion that he isn’t home and none of his brothers can sleep over with you, he lends you his coat to sleep under. The familiar scent of him that clings to it is better than nothing.

_______

Mammon:

…Okay, at this point, he HAS to pry. Mammon is one of the first to notice that you’ve not exactly been well lately. You’re being unusually scatterbrained, clumsy, and spacey. You don’t have any energy. It’s obvious to him that there’s a sleep issue! He’s more observant than he looks, ya know!

Now that he thinks of it, these traits are not THAT out of character for you. They’re not usually this bad though!

…shit, does that mean you’re usually sleep deprived? That’s not good. Well! You’re HIS human, and he loves you lots and takes your well being very seriously, as much as he hates to say it out loud. So, he commits himself to figuring this out!

Evening comes. Mammon follows you into the hall leading towards your room. You bash your hip against a wall corner and almost fall to the floor as you dizzily stumble, trying to catch yourself. Mammon grabs you to steady you. Yeah, at this point he has to pry.

“Be careful, human! Seriously, you’d break all your lil toothpick bones without the great Mammon around to protect ya! What’s up with that, huh?”

You trust him of course, but… you’re embarrassed. You don’t want to tell him.

He clicks his tongue impatiently. You don’t say anything. He grabs you by the shoulders and steers you into his room. He pushes you down to sit on his bed.

“C’mon, MC. Talk to me. Your first man is here to help!”

“…”

“…please?”

Now, that… almost does it. You feel bad for being stubborn. You know he’s worried, and chaotic as he can be, he’s proven himself as a very good guardian demon time and time again. You take a deep breath, gathering your resolve.

You take just a bit too long. Mammon groans.

“I’m very annoying, yknow. I’ll get it outta ya somehow!”

Mammon pokes your cheeks, gently shakes you, tugs lightly at your hair, as he demands that you talk to him.

“Tell me, tell me tell me tell me tell me, c’mooooon humaaan, tell me!”

‘Oh, fucking fine!’ You think. You confide in him.

He’s mildly tempted to be like, ‘was that really so hard,’ but he won’t. He’s far more concerned than annoyed with you. He feels bad about all the super late nights out he’s been having lately. He wants to always be there for you! Him having missed something like this has him mentally kicking his own ass.

Mammon puts all that aside for now, though. He roots around in a drawer to get two pairs of his old, worn and comfy sweatpants, plus an old tshirt, faded and worn soft from use. He throws the shirt and one of the sweatpants at you

“Go brush your teeth and change, then come right back. We’re having an early night.”

When you return, he locks his door, then puts you back in his bed. He’s changed into the other pair of sweatpants. Mammon wraps himself around you as much as he can, as if to bodily shield you from the nightmares, then pulls his blanket over both of you.

“Sleep, human. No nightmares’ll DARE mess with you now. Not while I’m here. I’ll protect ya.”

Having him so close to you feels like home. Nothing else has ever felt so safe. You sleep deeply, for hours longer than you have in a while.

(Mammon is never letting you sleep alone again)

_______

Levi:

As much as Levi doesn’t want to bother you, he’s getting worried. You’re performing WAY worse at your video games than usual! You’re missing so many inputs! He knows your usual skill level, this game should be a relaxing walk in the park for you! He’s too worried to even make fun of you!

“Ok, that’s it! I can’t take it anymore! What happened to you, normie?? Are you sick?? Do you… not want to play with me? What’s happening??”

He’s worked himself into a panic. You know he’s sensitive enough right now to take it personally if you don’t confide in him. So fine! You’ll talk!

You’ll talk… auuugh, you can’t get the words out! You’re too self conscious about it. Fuck it. You take your DDD out of your pocket and send him a text.

>not been sleeping well. Nightmares. So tired, can’t pretend anymore! >:( Nothing personal, promise!

Levi reads the text. He chews the inside of his cheek for a long moment, thinking. Then he snaps to attention, looking at you with intense determination.

“We can’t have that! I need my player two in optimal condition! There’s no other way for us to win at any games!”

Levi resorts to his old faithful: relaxing slice of life anime! He makes a big pile of pillows and blankets on the floor, arranging them into an MC-and-Levi sized nest. It’s late enough into the evening that it’s reasonable enough to try to put you to sleep.

If just the anime and the blankets and the being in his room isn’t enough to knock you out, he’ll shyly inch over to you to hold your hand. Blushing and looking away from you because he’s shy, but he’ll do it.

If you ask him—or just look sad and cute enough—he’ll even curl up behind you in the blanket-nest and hold you. Levi won’t have ANYTHING hurting his Henry, not if he can do anything about it!

He doesn’t mind holding you all night like this. The fact that you’re asleep helps, he’s not shy when you’re not perceiving him. The anime he’s still watching is helping too. It’s a good distraction.

_______

Satan:

As soon as he started to get the feeling something was wrong with you, he began watching you intently. He’s sharp, so he would have caught this very early on.

He can’t help but have a little fun with this investigation at first, thinking of it as detective work.

Soon though, he gets concerned. You’re irritable, you’re not retaining information or remembering small things as well, you’re clumsier and less generally aware… all dangerous things to be in this realm.

He doesn’t need you to tell him what’s wrong. He puts it together himself. He knows you sleep just fine with him, he knows you seem well rested after sleepovers with any of his brothers too. Clearly it’s not general insomnia. He also knows that the usual frequent sleepovers haven’t been happening for a while now.

When he confronts you, he doesn’t start with asking questions. He lays out all the evidence he’s collected and states his guesses as to the cause.

He tells you he has concluded it’s most likely to be any of these causes: loneliness, separation anxiety, touch deprivation, nightmares, stress-induced insomnia. He asks you to tell him which it is, if it’s more than one, if it’s something else?

He’s so clinical about it, you pretty much forget to be self conscious. All you have to do is confirm that it’s nightmares and they only happen when you sleep alone.

“Thank you for trusting me,” he says, regardless of how little you’ve actually told him. “You’re more than welcome to sleep over with me any time. You don’t even have to ask. Just tell me that you’re sleeping over.”

That evening, he leads you into his room. He lies on his back, book in hand, and beckons you to lie on top of him.

He guides your head to rest in the crook of his neck. He balances his book against your shoulders, holding it with one hand. The other wraps around your waist, his thumb rubbing your side soothingly, and he begins to read aloud to you.

His voice and his warmth soothe you to sleep. Not a single nightmare dares touch you.

Asmo:

The first thing Asmo notices is the darkened circles under your eyes.

“Oh, my darling! Your skin!” He gasps, genuinely horrified. “Come, we can do better than that. Let your Asmo take care of you~”

As he often does, Asmo brings you to his room for a spa day. Evening. Night. It’s late.

He smooths moisturizer into your skin, using all the appropriate human-safe products for revitalizing you when you’re tired. He gets a helpful mask on you, then one for him too. As you wait for it to dry, he asks you what’s up.

“Can’t sleep, lovely? You know, if you’re restless I can always tire you out~”

You roll your eyes and elbow him lightly. You expected nothing less from Asmo. Knowing him as well as you do, it’s more endearing than bothersome. You know he’s showing you that he cares.

“Offer’s always open, darling!” He giggles. “But, is there anything else I could do for you? Need to get something off your chest? Or just some good company, hmm?”

Asmo’s really sweet. It’s easy to open up to him—or, as easy as opening up gets. He massages your hand in silence as you gather your resolve to confide in him.

He listens sympathetically. Nodding and humming encouragingly at all the right points as you speak. Squeezing your hand when you need support. Just… being the emotionally intelligent sweetheart that Asmo always is with you.

“You’re welcome to sleep here, love. Nothing you don’t want will happen, of course. Now, let me wash that mask off you, then we can snuggle if you like.”

He washes off the mask, touching you very tenderly as he does. He takes his time gently washing the product off your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb affectionately. He gives you a little forehead kiss when your face is clean as his thanks for trusting him.

He lets you lead on how much contact you want. He really just wants to help. He’s happiest if you choose to cuddle with him, but he’s totally chill with just holding your hand, or even just lying next to you. He’s awesome like that.

No matter what you choose, the familiar perfume of Asmo’s room and the reassuring rhythm of his breathing lulls you to sleep. It feels safe.

You sleep really well. Asmo really is the best.

Beel:

Beel understands nightmares. He gets them too. He spots the signs easily, familiar as they are to him.

All he has to do is spot the haunted look in your eyes when he sees you before breakfast. Very distracted he usually is at that time, yes, but he loves you. He pays attention to you. He notices it pretty quick.

He can’t help but wonder why you haven’t approached him about it. Hasn’t he demonstrated to you that nightmares in particular are a thing he’s safe for you to confide in about? He’s not going to take it personally, but he IS going to worry.

He keeps an ear trained on your room whenever he goes into the kitchen at night. Carefully listening for any signs of distress.

After a few nights of this, he gives into his impulse and goes to check on you after his midnight snack. He brings you something he knows you like.

He’s not surprised to find you awake.

“Hey.” He says through a mouthful of his own food. “Want a snack?” He comes in to put it in your hands as soon as you acknowledge him.

The two of you eat together, sitting quietly on your bed side by side. Beel’s careful not to drop any crumbs.

You remain quiet even after all traces of snacks are eliminated.

“Nightmares?” Beel asks gently, looking at you with those irresistible soft worried puppy eyes he does. You can’t lie to him. You’re not a monster!

You nod. He hums sympathetically, looking genuinely saddened on your behalf. He gets it.

“Want a hug?” He offers

You press yourself into his side. He wraps one very big arm around you, and you melt into him like warm mozzarella. His solid presence is reassuring. You feel so safe with him. You’re already starting to drift as he rubs your shoulder with one large thumb.

“Would it help if I stay?” Beel murmurs to you.

You nod again.

So Beel picks you up, settling himself in your bed with you and arranging you comfortably in his arms.

He starts softly stroking your hair. Trying to help you relax more.

“Thanks for letting me help you.” Beel says earnestly. It’s obvious that he really means it. He’s grateful you’re trusting him with this. He’s very happy that you’re accepting his comfort, because he wants nothing more than to help you and protect you.

He’s good at that. Being comforting. Helpful and protective—that’s Beel.

You drift off peacefully, with nothing on your mind except the sleep-blurred sentiment of feeling grateful for him, too.

Belphie:

Without question, Belphie is the first one to notice that you’re having nightmares. Sleep is his main thing!

You only get to have one bad night before he steps in. He drags you up to the attic to nap with you right after school. No nightmares happen, of course, because you’re not sleeping alone. Belphie congratulates himself on a job well done!

…wait. Again?? He finds himself aware that you’re having another nightmare that night, hours later when you’re trying to sleep by yourself. Fuck sake.

He goes to your room. You snap awake at the disturbance. Without a word, he pours himself into your bed, draping across you like a clingy cat and going right back to sleep.

Bit rude. But this is helpful. You go back to sleep too, and have no nightmares. Good job, Belphie.

Then the next night, it happens again!! Mildly vexed at the persistent issue, he does the same thing as last night.

The next evening, he doesn’t let you go to bed alone to begin with. He goes with you, staying just aware enough that he can snipe your nightmares before they get a chance to terrorize you—but… none happen? Huh. Wild. Okay.

The next night, he finally asks you what the deal is. You hesitate to tell him. Belphie has no qualms about annoying the information out of you, if his initial blunt concern isn’t enough to get you to talk. If you don’t crack, he’ll try tickling you until you talk to him. If you STILL don’t crack, he’ll sic Beel and his concerned puppy eyes on you. No one can resist Beel’s concerned puppy eyes. Especially not when it’s BOTH twins looking at you like that!

Resistance is futile. You reluctantly tell him that you have nightmares only when you sleep alone.

He mentally slaps himself. Obviously!

He was prepared to use any of his avatar of sloth abilities necessary to cure you of your nightmares—and he still is—but he’s happy (and secretly endeared) to learn that the cure is nothing more than his presence. Less work for him! Less work, AND a good excuse to steal you away for naps all the time! Two of his favourite things!

Belphie is never letting you sleep alone again. No, you’ll either be together in your room, together in his and Beel’s room, or together in the attic.

He’ll make an exception for sleepovers with his other brothers too if you miss them. You’re so lucky he loves you.

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reidsaurora · 8 months

Note

Hey sweet!! I wanna request for the Leo baby birthday cake

“you can’t scare me like that, okay?” with Luke Alvez. Thank you so much!!

thank you for the request! sorry this took so long, my personal life has been swamped lately and i haven't had much time to write 😅 hope you like what i wrote though!

"In Your (Broken) Arms" ~ L. Alvez

pairing: luke alvez x fem!bau!reader

summary: it's just a fractured wrist, but to luke alvez, your stressed-out and over-protective boyfriend, it might just be cause to bubble wrap you.

word count: 626

warnings: takes place in a hospital, mild sexual humor, very mild swearing, i think that's it!

genre: fluff <3

based on the prompt: "you can't scare me like that, okay?"

extra notes: the ending is rushed, as per usual. i apologize for that. i hope you enjoy the rest though!

beta read by: @reidselle (love you <3)

masterlist | birthday bash | ask box

🧁 Leo Baby Birthday Cake - send me a character + a prompt from this list and i'll write you a blurb!

"You cannot scare me like that, okay?" Luke said between exasperated breaths as he walked into the exam room you currently sat in.

He pulled the curtain closed behind himself before sitting down next to your bed, watching as the doctor wrapped your wrist. "Hey, be gentle, she could've lost her arm."

You rolled your eyes before reassuring the doctor that your wrist would be fine. "Don't listen to him. I'm okay, I promise. Well, other than the obvious."

The doctor let out a soft chuckle as he focused on wrapping your wrist up properly. "Y/N's gonna be fine, sir, I can assure you. Fractured wrists are practically a daily occurrence for us emergency room docs."

Luke's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. "A fractured wrist? Seriously?"

"Luke, we'll talk about this in a minute. Please let the doctor finish up his work."

The doctor met you with kind eyes. "No worries. I'm all done. I'll give you two a few minutes and send a nurse in with your paperwork in a little bit."

And with that, the man was on his way out the door, leaving you to deal with your stressed-out, and definitely overprotective, boyfriend.

Luke scooted his chair closer to the edge of your bed, taking your newly bandaged arm and placing a soft kiss over the new cast you sported.

You rolled your eyes, but placed a loving hand in his hair, running your fingers softly through his disheveled curls. "I'm okay, I promise."

"A fracture, Y/N," he reminded you. "There's a reason I told you to wait for me and Spencer to get that guy."

You winced as you remembered the pain of him flailing to get out of your grasp, his elbows hitting nearly every bone in your upper body as he tried to push you off. "Okay, maybe I could've waited but if you guys had arrived any later, he would've gotten away. I had to take my chances. Okay?"

Luke gave you a displeased pout, and you couldn't help but kiss it away. You loved him, really, but he sure knew how to be overprotective when he wanted to be, especially on the job.

"Hey, don't you dare use those pretty lips to distract me," he argued, brows meeting in an angry furrow. "I'm upset with you. You could've gotten yourself hurt. Hell, you did get yourself hurt."

"Luke," you sighed with exasperation, "I am fine. Now, will you please flag down a nurse so I can go home?"

He rolled his eyes, lips landing on yours for another gentle kiss. It didn't matter that you'd been dating Luke for over a year, he still knew how to make butterflies go off in your tummy every time he kissed you. "Don't think this is over," he warned, pulling away. "I'm gonna smother you like no one's business."

"Ooooh, I'm so scared of the big, bad teddy bear that is Luke Alvez," you rebutted, sticking out your tongue in banter.

"Watch it or I'll punish you," he said, heading toward the curtain.

A sly smirk tugged at the corner of your lips. "Now that is something I'd like to see."

He rolled his eyes, pulling open the curtain and heading out toward the nurses station, but not before uttering a quick, "I love you, querida."

"Yeah, yeah, I guess I love you too, bubble butt."

A soft voice, which you quickly figured out was Spencer, mumbled from the other side of the curtain. "Bubble butt?"

"It's…" Luke paused, trying to come up with an explanation. "It's a long story."

You just shook your head, eternally grateful for the man you got to call your boyfriend… and bubble butt.

-> taglist: @1234-angelika @drayshadow @alexxavicry @nomajdetective @cordyandbilliehavemyheart @darkloverfox @sammyrenae68 @cherrycandle @asgardprincess97 @gh0stgurl @randomwriter1021 @eddieharrington @danielle143 @esposadomd @reidselle @dungeons-are-too-cold @louderfortheback @reidsbookclub @cwritesforfun @cynbx

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thenerdykneazle · 5 months

Text

Fast Asleep

Summary: Sebastian finds himself unable to resist his curiosity when late nights fighting baddies cause the two of you to repeatedly spend the night in the Room of Requirement together. He justifies his actions at first - as he does best - but he quickly spirals out of control.

Sebastian Sallow x F!MC

Second person but Seb's perspective

Word count: 9856

Warnings: 18+, sexually explicit content, aged-up characters, non-consensual somnophilia, dead dove, loss of virginity / first time

Seriously, this is the most unhinged thing I've ever written. Please take care of yourself and do not read if it will trigger you or you're uncomfortable with the subject matter. This is a far cry from my last few fluffy pieces.

It had started innocently enough. It was out of necessity, after all, that you were in the situation to begin with. He hadn’t planned or manipulated anything. But Sebastian was not one to pass up an opportunity when it was so perfectly presented to him.

Truthfully, the first time Sebastian slept with you was totally innocent. It was just sleeping. You’d been out adventuring far too late and rather than risk getting caught wandering the halls, you flooed directly into the Room of Requirement, which had produced a bedroom with a set of twin beds. You each slept in your own until you awoke screaming. You’d had a nightmare about one of the poachers that you’d just faced hitting Sebastian with a killing curse rather than the near-miss that had happened in real life.

You were screaming his name, and no one would sleep through that. Sebastian had awoken with a start and immediately rushed to you, asking what was wrong and if you were hurt. You told him about your dream. He sat on the edge of your bed and just held you. You couldn’t bear not being able to confirm that he was okay, so you asked him to bring his bed next to yours. He levitated it over, and you watched him for nearly an hour before you were able to fall asleep again.

The next time late-night adventuring brought you both to the Room of Requirement, Sebastian had to support you as you limped along. You’d taken several hard hits in the spider den, and you’d both run out of wiggenwelds. He sat you on the nearest chair before grabbing an extra phial of the green liquid from your cabinet.

“I still think you should go to Nurse Blainey,” Sebastian said gravely.

You waved him off. “I’m fine,” you insisted. You could feel your deep-set bruises fading already.

“It’s not worth the risk,” he argued firmly.

You rolled your eyes. “I’ll go in the morning. I’m tired,” you said, aiming for a compromise like you always did.

“You could be bleeding internally. You could die in your sleep!” Sebastian said, trying not too sound too panicked. He knew his eyes betrayed just how scared he was. “I can’t let something bad happen to you.”

You sighed, which frustrated him because he knew you were going to keep arguing. “I can tell it’s not that serious. I just want to sleep, Seb,” you said pleadingly.

Sebastian’s jaw tensed. He had a very, very difficult time saying no to you. He agreed to let you sleep under the condition that he could check on you every hour. You agreed, and you went to your respective beds. You fell asleep quickly, but Sebastian couldn’t. He was too worried. He watched you sleep – or tried to, but the room was dim, and it was hard to see if you were breathing.

After twenty minutes, he got up and padded his bare feet across the room until he stood beside your bed. He could hear and see your soft breathing as he knelt by your bed. “MC?” he whispered.

No response.

“MC?” he called louder.

You groaned and stirred. “Bash?” you replied, barely lifting your head as you squinted up at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I…I just wanted to be sure you’re all right,” he said.

You nuzzled back into your pillow. “Mhmm, just sleeping,” you replied groggily.

“Not dizzy or having headaches, right?” he inquired anxiously.

“No, just tired. Go back to bed,” you said.

So, he did. For another twenty minutes. Then, he got up again and walked back over to convince himself you were still breathing. He had no idea what he’d do if he let something bad happen to you. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself. He already felt guilty that you’d gotten injured so many times that night. There were just so many spiders.

The creaking of the floor woke you up before Sebastian even reached you.

“What time is it?” you grumbled, clearly irritated at being awoken again.

Sebastian checked. “Half one,” he replied.

You groaned and rolled over, away from him. “Go to sleep, Bash,” you groused.

“I’m just worried,” he said, trying to get you to understand. “I have this awful feeling that something’s wrong. Like I’m gonna check and you won’t be breathing.”

You huffed and turned over again. You lifted your blanket up. “Get in,” you ordered.

Sebastian blinked at you. “What?” he asked.

“Get in,” you repeated more harshly. “If you wake me up again, I’ll hex you. You can keep an eye on me from here. Now, hurry up. I want to sleep.”

Sebastian didn’t wait to be told again. He slipped under your covers. You turned onto your right side again, facing away from him and toward the wall. You reached back and grabbed his hand. He blushed, and he was very glad your back was to him. He squeezed your fingers in his, relishing their warmth.

You brought his hand to a spot high on your stomach. “Here. You can feel me breathing,” you stated. “Good night.”

You left his hand on your stomach and tucked your own under your head.

Sebastian briefly felt very silly for thinking you were just trying to hold his hand. He found it hard for his mood to stay depressed as he lay so close to you, though. He focused on the feeling of your breaths as they deepened, evening out as you drifted off. He nuzzled into your neck, where he could feel your pulse. He left the rest of his body disconnected from yours.

At some point, he succumbed to sleep, as well. He woke up still in the dark to the rather startling sound of you retching. You were leaned over the far side of the bed. Sebastian grabbed his wand, vanished your sick, and conjured a bucket in record time. He held your hair and rubbed your back as you panted after seemingly ejecting all of your organs.

“I think I have a concussion,” you said weakly.

“We’re going to Nurse Blainey,” he stated firmly.

You just nodded. You couldn’t tolerate the thought of going by floo, so Sebastian had to walk you to the infirmary. You vomited several times on the way.

After that, Sebastian always slept in your bed when you stayed in the Room of Requirement. Insisting you were fine despite being concussed lost you your credibility with him. He was always worried you were injured without realising it. The next three stays, you fell asleep side-by-side with Sebastian’s hand on your stomach and face pressed into your neck. He realised you had a very high heart rate for someone so active, though it would always slow after you fell asleep. He supposed it took a while for the adrenaline to wear off after one of your escapades. So, he stopped worrying quite so much about it.

But lying in bed next to you was a comfort and a torture. He could convince himself you were fine, which was a relief. On the other hand, your heat sank into his skin and the scent of your shampoo filled his nose, which drove him crazy. He made a fatal error during the fourth time he slept next to you when he opened his eyes. He had just meant to look to see his hand rising and falling with your breathing, because he stopped being sure he really felt it. He might have been imagining the sensations and sounds that he expected, but he didn’t think his mind could conjure the sight of it. So, he checked.

Well, he intended to. But his first view upon opening his eyes was down the front of your nightgown. He knew it wasn’t his fault that he saw your cleavage pressed together through the gap at your loose collar. But he also knew he couldn’t claim innocence when he immediately brushed away a lock of hair that had partially obstructed his view.

Sebastian bit his lip as he continued to stare at the smooth skin of your breasts. He’d never seen a woman’s bare curves from so close before. Hogwarts uniforms didn’t exactly feature brazen displays of décolletage – or even hint at it. He’d only had the odd distant glimpse of the more progressively dressed women in Hogsmeade.

As he took in every detail of the exposed region of your chest, he began to feel that he was being rather invasive. He thought that he probably ought to look away. On the other hand, he could tell by your breasts’ slight rise and fall that you were definitely still breathing. Would it be wrong of him to make sure you didn’t stop? That was the whole point of him sleeping next to you, after all.

So, Sebastian kept his gaze – in the interest of health and safety. The longer her looked, though, the more his fingers itched to touch, as well. Your breasts looked so full and soft. He wondered if he could fit each fully in his hand. He wasn’t sure, but his fingers were quite long. His fingers on your stomach fanned and stretched as he thought about it. He shouldn’t. He couldn’t. To touch you without permission…You’d be furious.

Though, you’d never know, he reasoned. So, how could you be upset? You were more likely to be angered by him asking to touch you when you were awake. Really, it would be better for you if he sated himself while you were unconscious. He was now desperate to find out what you felt like – he had to know. So, there were only two options: offend you or keep a secret. So, really, there was only one option.

Heart thundering in his chest, Sebastian slowly slid his left hand up your stomach, dragging the cotton nightgown up a bit with it. He moved just a few centimetres, then stopped. He watched and listened. There was no change. He slowly released the breath he’d been holding. After a few more seconds, when he was sure you were still fast asleep, he slid his hand a bit higher. He tucked his hand just under your breasts and froze again. He got just a taste of the weight of them, and his cock twitched in his pyjamas.

He could barely hear your soft, rhythmic breaths over the blood rushing in his ears.

He carefully lifted his thumb, stroking between your breasts over your nightgown. The quietest moan escaped Sebastian’s lips, but you slept on, undisturbed. He wanted urgently to fill his palm with your perfectly formed flesh, but he forced himself to move slowly. He stroked the inside of your right breast with his thumb, squeezing it lightly with his index finger still underneath it. It was Heaven.

Emboldened by your heavy sleep, he brought his fingers up over the pillowy mound and flexed them into it. He was practically panting now. His cock was hard and straining against the confines of his garments, trying to reach out to you – begging for Sebastian to press his hips forward and rut them against your backside. He resisted the urge to comply.

Instead, he circled the pads of his fingers on your flesh until his felt your nipple poke through the thin nightgown. You were asleep – totally unaware – but your body responded to him, anyway. Sebastian groaned at the feeling of the pebbled tip under his fingers. It was too loud.

He froze in fear, not even able to pull his incriminating hand off your breast. He was done for. You’d murder him for this. He knew you would. Worse, you’d never speak to him again.

But you slept on. Your breathing hadn’t changed at all.

Sebastian needed to stop. He knew he did. He’d already pushed his luck too far. But the need to feel your other breast as well overpowered anything else. He cupped your left breast in his hand, lightly dragging his thumb over it so that your nipple hardened to his touch.

Fuck.

Feeling your body become aroused to his touch was intoxicating. His dick was throbbing for attention. But just feeling you wasn’t enough. Just like with your breathing. He needed to see you. Gods, it was so wrong. He knew it was. But he had to.

Sebastian gripped the neck of your nightgown. He hesitated. Was he really going through with this? It was a violation of your privacy. Of your trust. You felt safe sleeping next to him.

Fuck. He couldn’t do that to you.

But he so desperately wanted to see you. Find out what colour your nipples were. The size of your areolas. He wanted to know every detail. Maybe even taste you.

He brought his right hand to cup himself over his trousers. He squeezed his shaft with a punishing grip, trying to get even a small bit of relief from his aching cock.

He still had his fist clenched around the collar of your nightgown. He should’ve let go. He’d meant to – the moment he decided not to look, he’d meant to let go. He tugged the collar down just a bit as he was focused on his right hand touching himself. It was on accident, probably. Definitely. He hadn’t meant to. But now the backs of his fingers were pressed into the top of your breast. It was so soft, and a new wave of desire swallowed him. He just had to see you and feel your skin on his own. Gods, he needed it.

He pulled the fabric down further until your left breast was completely exposed. He teased your nipple before palming your breast. He had to stretch his fingers out wide to envelop it. He could just barely fit the whole thing in his hand. An exact fit. Like you were made for him.

“Fuck, MC,” he hissed.

He hadn’t meant to say it out loud. You stirred a bit as an unintelligible noise left your lips. Sebastian quickly righted your nightgown before returning his hand to your stomach. His heart was beating out of his chest, pounding against his ribs as it tried to break through them.

Were you awake? Had you noticed what he’d done?

You shifted slightly, and then you were still. Your rhythmic breathing returned.

It was a very close call.

Sebastian thought he should pop out and take care of his…current state…before he did something else stupid and woke you for real. But he was nervous to leave you alone. He was still genuinely afraid something bad was going to happen to you. So, he stayed. He just lay there and suffered through the aching desire that had consumed him until his body finally calmed down.

He woke up the next morning extremely hard – way worse than the usual morning wood. It took a good bit of finesse to keep you from noticing. But that was the only evidence of his misdeeds the prior night. After you parted ways, he successfully made it back to his dorm without anyone noticing his…predicament. Once alone, he was quick to close himself in his bed for a wank. It wasn’t the first time he’d touched himself to thoughts of you, but it was the first time his imaginings were more memory than pure fantasy.

The next time he slept next to you in the Room of Requirement, he was hard before you even fell asleep. You rehashed your raid of the goblin camp before really settling down for bed. Sebastian decided he quite liked lying in bed and talking with you. He might like to do it forever. Aside from the anxiety of all the injuries you might have, he vastly preferred sleeping with you in the Room of Requirement to his dorm. And not just because of his new discovery of just how fantastic your tits were.

Though, speaking of them, he was quite eager to say hello. He couldn’t stop thinking of them since he’d gotten to see and feel them a few days ago. He was distracted in every single class the two of you shared, especially potions that day. All class he had watched you as you leaned over your cauldron, your robe off and tie loose. The steam from your cauldron brought a rosy flush to your cheeks – not to mention what it did to your hair. He imagined it was the sort of dishevelled look you’d have after being freshly fucked in the potions supply room. It had him running to the nearest broom cupboard to take care of himself as soon as Sharp had dismissed you all.

Sebastian waited for fifteen agonising minutes after you’d fallen asleep before he dared to move. He’d stop at tucking his hand under your breasts. He just wanted to be close to them again. He wouldn’t be as risky as last time. Or as invasive.

As soon as his hand was under your breasts, his thumb automatically tucked up between them. It was basically a reflex. But that would be as far as he went. Just stroking his thumb between your breasts.

But as he stroked the inside of your right breast again, he realised how lonely it seemed without your arm tucked under it this time. So, he held it for you. He brought his thumb down underneath your gown’s neckline and let out a little whimper as he grazed over your hardened nipple – skin-to-skin.

Not wanting to be unfair, he pulled your gown aside to take out your left breast and palmed it, too. After all, he loved them equally.

He marvelled at how perfectly you fit in his hand. He thought he might’ve imagined it last time, swept up in seeing tits – your tits, no less – for the first time. He bit back a moan as he massaged the flesh. He couldn’t stand how beautiful you were. Every inch of you. It really wasn’t fair. How was he supposed to stay away?

Sebastian carefully raised himself up on his right elbow, doing his best not to shift the bed under you. He needed a better look. Nuzzled into your neck kept him close to your breasts, but he wanted to take in the whole of them. He adjusted the gown so it was pulled down beneath both breasts.

And Gods, they were gorgeous.

He ran his left hand over them, going back and forth to give them equal attention. They were so soft. So pretty. So responsive. Just perfect. He cupped his hand under your left breast. Before he even realised what he was doing, his head had dipped down and his tongue was against your nipple. He licked languid stripes up and down before sucking the bud into his mouth.

You let out a soft sigh.

Sebastian released you with a pop. He just hovered, your breast still in his hand and his mouth centimetres from your wet nipple.

You didn’t stir further.

Unable to resist, he latched back onto your nipple. He kept suckling until you let out a breathy moan. He fixed your gown and moved his hand back down in a fraction of a second. As you shifted, he could tell you were waking up.

“MC?” he said quietly.

Your eyes fluttered open. “Bash?”

“It’s me, darling. Are you all right? You were groaning in your sleep.” He felt a knot twist in his stomach. He wasn’t sure if it was guilt from lying or anxiety that you knew exactly why you’d been ‘groaning.’

Your cheeks flushed as you looked up at him. “Oh, sorry. Just, erm, a bad dream.” You cleared your throat. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

Sebastian had to repress a grin. You wouldn’t be so embarrassed over a ‘bad dream.’ He reckoned his actions were seeping into your subconscious, making you dream about what was happening to your body. The thought made him shiver. “I’m sorry, love. Do you want to talk about it?”

“Oh, uh, n-no. That’s okay,” you said. Even in the dim light, Sebastian could see that your face was positively flaming. Bad dream, indeed.

“Okay. Just rest then, love. I’ve got you,” he said. Sebastian settled back down onto his side. He tugged you closer to his chest, wanting to comfort you on the off chance that you had actually been having a nightmare. He was careful to keep his hips a safe distance from your bum, though.

“All right,” you agreed. You relaxed into him, and it wasn’t long before you drifted off again.

As much as he wanted to test his theory, Sebastian resolved to get some sleep. No more touching tonight. Or ever. He really shouldn’t be fondling your breasts while you sleep, no matter how lonely they seem.

At least, he had resolved to stop until he nuzzled back into your neck and breathed in your scent. He smelled your shampoo, which was delicious as ever. But that wasn’t all he could smell. He could smell your arousal. Your little pussy must’ve been dripping for him while you slept.

Merlin, he wanted to dip in and feel you – feel how slick he’d made you. He had to know. Your body was practically calling to him, after all.

You shifted a bit in bed, your hips moving around slightly before settling again.

He wondered if you were feeling worked up, too. Gods, he hoped you were.

Once he was sure you were back in deep sleep, Sebastian began sneaking his hand down your stomach. He could feel the top of your knickers through your gown. He began pulling up the fabric slowly. Painfully slowly. Until your knickers were exposed. It was torture to have to control his movements so rigorously. He just wanted to be able to explore you. To ravish you like you deserved.

A terrible, tempting thought struck his mind. He could stun you. Already asleep, you’d never know. He’d be free to do whatever he liked, and you wouldn’t be able to feel any of it. He could strip you bare, runs his hands wherever he pleased, even fuck you. You’d be none the wiser. Save likely being sore after from that last one.

Sebastian was ashamed of how alluring the idea was to him. But he would never go that far. He wanted you to experience when he touched you. Your body was clearly receptive to him. On some level, you must want his touch. He was sure of it. And he certainly wanted you aware the first time he fucked you. No, not just fucked. Made love. Because he loved you. He really did. He just wasn’t sure you’d let him touch you yet the ways he wanted if you were awake. Despite all the rules you broke together, you were rather concerned with being a respectable young woman. Even if you let him, he was quite sure you’d regret it later.

Like this, he could give your body pleasure without you feeling guilty about it. And if he enjoyed the process, well, that was a secondary benefit. At least, that was what Sebastian told himself as he slipped his hand into your knickers. He traced down through the thatch of curls until he found the lips of your cunt. He cupped over you, trying to keep his breaths even as he listened to make sure you hadn’t stirred.

You were so warm down there. It was…inviting, to say the least.

He pressed his middle finger down between your lips, and he felt the hot, slick arousal that coated you. Gods, you were drenched. Sebastian bit his lip hard to hold back a moan.

Fuck, what he would give to bury himself inside you. You were so fucking wet. He bet he’d slide right in. He might even be able to slip into you before you woke up. His cock was leaking just at the thought of it.

Sebastian slid his finger slowly through your folds. He could feel your entrance, and he traced around it, feeling the contours. He swept up higher until he found the little pearl he was sure was your clitoris. Other men had trouble finding them? He couldn’t understand why. It really wasn’t that difficult.

As he slid his finger over the nub, your hips jolted, and Sebastian ripped his hand back.

You gasped as you bolted into a sitting position.

“Are you okay? Did I–I mean, are you hurt?” Sebastian asked, worried he’d injured you.

You were panting. “S-sorry, I…I mean, no. I’m fine,” you stammered.

As Sebastian tried to subtly, though regrettably, wipe your arousal from his hand, he realised the smell of sex in the air was quite obvious. You seemed to notice, too, as your cheeks were red again. You pressed your legs together.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Sebastian asked guiltily.

You nodded vigorously. “Yeah, just had a…a strange dream again, is all.”

Sebastian could’ve cried with relief. He’d escaped being caught by a narrow thread twice in one night. You were convinced it was only dreams. “Anything I can do to help?” he asked, hoping irrationally that you’d say something like ‘act it out with me.’

“I’m, um, a bit warm. Maybe just some extra space between us?” you suggested.

Sebastian tried not to pout. That was the opposite of what he wanted. He agreed, though. He was just happy that by some miracle you hadn’t caught him with his hand in your knickers.

Sebastian gave you the extra space. You were able to fall asleep again fairly quickly. He struggled, though. The adrenaline of both feeling your sweet little cunt and almost being caught doing so was doing him no favours. The bigger issue, though, was no longer having his hand on your stomach to feel you breathing. He stared at the spot, watching the rise and fall. Whenever his eyes drifted shut for a few seconds, he’d jolt awake, panicked that you’d have stopped breathing. That went on for hours.

The next morning, you could tell that he was exhausted. You weaselled the less salacious half of the reason out of him. You assured him you were fine and insisted that he go get some rest in his dorm.

He did as instructed – after relieving some tension first. He lay on his bed with his right hand wrapped around his cock. There was still the faint scent of you on his left hand. His eyes rolled back as he inhaled. You were intoxicating. Addicting. He came hard as he breathed you in. Rather than sated, he just felt desperate to spend another night with you.

His chance came just two nights later. Which was good, because he was going crazy. He had to go about his days like everything was normal while the urges to bury his face, fingers, and cock between your thighs nearly overwhelmed him. He was surprised he could even fight, but it turned out to be a really good way to work out some of his mounting stress. He did drag things out a bit, though, so that the two of you arrived back at the castle after curfew.

Once in the Room of Requirement, you fetched a potion before heading to the bedroom. Sebastian didn’t recognise the purple liquid at first. “What’s that?”

“Potion for dreamless sleep,” you said. “I didn’t want to keep you up again.”

“Oh, er, are you sure?” he asked. “I mean, should you take that if you could be injured?”

“I barely took a single hit tonight. I’m fine, Seb,” you insisted.

His heart stuttered. He loved when you called him that. It was so familiar. Fond, even. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea,” he tried. He was sure that it was a bad idea, just not for reasons he cared to admit at the moment.

You rolled your eyes. “You can feel me breathe if you need convincing. But we both need sleep.”

Before he could argue further, you downed the brew.

Shit. That wasn’t good.

You transfigured your clothes into your usual nightgown and crawled in bed. Sebastian slipped in behind you. You fell asleep almost instantly.

Sebastian knew the potion made one drowsy and not have dreams. He wasn’t certain it made the drinker a heavier sleeper, though. It wasn’t like draught of living death, at any rate. He told himself you’d wake just as easily as always. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on your breathing as he forced his fidgety fingers to stay on your stomach.

But he couldn’t resist forever. He had to know if you were out.

“MC?” he whispered.

Nothing.

Then, louder, he repeated, “MC?”

Still nothing.

He shook your shoulder firmly as he called your name a third time, but you just slept on. Sebastian groaned, squeezing his eyes shut as he buried his face in your neck.

He would just go to sleep. He wouldn’t do anything. Just sleep.

He tried to get comfortable, snuggling in closer behind you. He breathed in the scent of your shampoo as he took deep, relaxing breaths. Or at least, he had hoped they’d be relaxing. They were more intoxicating than anything.

Sebastian’s lips pressed into your neck – just needing the contact. Though, it quickly turned into a tail of kisses up to a spot behind your ear. You sighed in your sleep contently. The sound went straight to Sebastian’s cock as he realised that, even with the potion, your body was still responding to him.

He held you closer with his arm around your middle. “I’ve got you, love,” he purred in your ear. “I’ll take care of you. I promise.”

He felt a pang of guilt as he considered the fact that he was meant to be keeping you safe. The whole reason he shared your bed was to make sure you weren’t hurt – not to feel you up while you slept. But, on the other hand, you seemed so relaxed by his touch. You were normally so stressed with the weight of all that you carried. He could give you relief.

You moaned as he palmed your breast over your gown, his fingers massaging into the flesh. His thumb teased your nipple. The action had a familiarity for him now like returning home at the end of the school year.

He trailed his hand back down your stomach, across your side, and over your bum. Your knee was bent up in front of you, pulling your skin and muscle taught over your backside. Sebastian traced the curve of your arse down to the back of your knee and then up again.

He grabbed a handful of the rounded flesh, kneading it roughly. He groaned at the feeling of your bum in his hand. He wanted to squeeze it, bite it, even slap it and watch the skin turn red before soothing it with his tongue.

He pressed his hips forward into you. His hard cock was welcomed by your arse, nestling in between your cheeks. Sebastian groaned at the embrace. His hips rutted against you, making more moans pour from his lips.

“Gods, you feel so fucking good, MC,” he groaned. He gripped your hip to give himself more leverage to grind against you. “Your arse is perfect, darling. All of you is so perfect.”

He pulled up your nightgown, exposing your knickers. Sebastian circled his hand around your firm bum before dipping it under the waistband of your knickers to feel your skin directly. His teeth sunk into his bottom lip. Your skin was so soft on his fingers. It was maddening, making him crave to explore every inch of you.

He slid his hand forward between your thighs where your slick arousal met him as he parted your folds. He let a loud moan slip out. “Fuck, you’re so wet for me, darling,” he breathed. “Such a good girl, even when you’re asleep.”

He stroked languidly through your folds before sliding further forward, seeking out your clit. His muscles were tensed, ready to rip his hand out of your knickers the instant you began to wake.

You moaned softly as he found and massaged the sensitive nub.

“Fuck, MC. You moan so pretty for me,” he praised. “Gods, I love you!”

You whimpered as he kept rubbing your bud with his fingers.

Sebastian quickly grew fed up with your knickers restricting him. He grabbed his wand, vanished them, and returned his hand to you instantly.

He shoved his right arm under you to wrap around your waist, holding you against his chest. He started thrusting against you again. “I want you so badly, MC,” he groaned. “Gods, I need to feel you around me. Would you like that? Having me fill your little pussy up with my cock?”

You kept whimpering as his left hand worked your clit. But he struggled to keep a rhythm with his nondominant hand. He replaced it with his right one, reaching down between your thighs from the front. He used the middle finger on his left hand to push inside of your cunt. He moaned, hips stuttering on your arse, as your plush walls gripped him.

Sebastian could hardly get his breath. “Fuck,” he groaned, unable to put together anything more eloquent as you continued to squeeze him. His mind was blissfully blank – the only salient thought in his head was how much he never wanted to stop being inside of you.

He pumped his finger in and out of you, while his other hand found a steady pace on your clit.

“I’m gonna make you come, darling,” he said. “I promised I’d take care of you. Now I will, okay?”

Still snapping his hips into your bum, Sebastian worked your cunt, building up the pleasure in your body. He could feel your soaked channel really start to squeeze him. Your whimpering grew louder, and your muscles tensed.

“That’s it, darling,” Sebastian said, gritting the words out between thrusts of his hips. His fingers moved furiously over your clit, desperate to bring you to your high. “You’re doing so good. So good, MC.”

He was in awe as you suddenly tensed fully, moaning out as your pussy spasmed around Sebastian’s finger. He was certain you would wake, but he was too enthralled to care. The sounds you made. The feeling of your body rigid and overwhelmed by his touch. Your tight cunt clamping down on him. He was in ecstasy.

Your body went limp, and Sebastian felt your aftershocks as he continued to pump his finger into you slowly, not yet willing to leave your warmth. And still, you continued to sleep.

“Sweet Salazar, that was beautiful,” he said, nuzzling into your neck. “You’re beautiful, MC.”

You whimpered once more as he slid his finger out of you. He left his right hand just resting over your cunt, cupping you protectively.

No longer enraptured by watching you come, Sebastian became painfully aware of how hard his cock was. It throbbed where it was pinned between his hips and your bum.

He ran his fingers on the inside of your thighs, gliding over the arousal that had leaked down onto them. Sebastian bit down into his lip as he drew your leg back, pressing your thighs together. He slid his hand between them. He groaned as he imagined his cock between your slick thighs instead of his fingers.

But that would be crossing a line. It was one thing to bring you pleasure as you slept. It was another thing entirely to use you for his own. But he couldn’t deny how incredible you’d feel.

He’d ripped his pyjamas and pants down while he was still debating with himself. He’d just feel your skin on his. Just once, briefly. He’d satisfy his curiosity, and then he’d go to sleep.

He moaned as he rubbed his cock between your arse cheeks. It was a feeling his hand could never compare to. Just the fact that it was you against him made it far superior, despite the lack of lubrication there. He used a charm when he got himself off, wetting his cock with an imitation of the slick coating your thighs.

Sebastian gripped the base of his shaft as he changed the angle of his hips. He’d just dip in, lubricate himself, and then have a wank. Technically, it wasn’t that different than touching your thighs with his hands – and he’d already done that.

He shuddered as he slid in between your thighs. He hadn’t realised how warm it would be. Gods, it was amazing. He was thrusting in and out before he even realised. It was necessary, though, to get enough of your juices on him. He could hardly have just done one swipe through your slick and been ready to go.

He grabbed onto your hip with his left hand. His right moved to anchor on your abdomen. He was panting as his thrusts sped up. “Fuck, you’re amazing,” he groaned. And you were. Warm, wet, and squeezing him perfectly. His eyes rolled back at the feeling.

Sebastian was hurtling toward an orgasm. Rookwood himself couldn’t stop him at that point if he resurrected and burst into the room. Sebastian’s brain was half melted as pleasure overtook his usual faculties. His only thoughts were how good you felt and how badly he needed release. “Fuck, MC! Yes! Gods, you’re gonna milk my fucking cock with these thighs!”

He came with a shout. His cum shot out in spurts, adding to the slick between your thighs and leaking out over them in front and back. Some even burst out as he was fully buried between your thighs, staining the bedsheets.

He lay boneless and draped over you as he caught his breath. Once he regained use of his limbs, he sat up and pressed kisses to your temple. He nuzzled into your skin and whispered his love for you and how good you’d been for him.

He cast a cleaning charm, removing the mixture of fluids from the bed and your skin.

Erasing the evidence.

A sharp pang of guilt struck his stomach like a bludger as he pulled his pyjamas back up.

He curled around you, holding you close. “I’m so sorry,” he muttered into your ear. “Really, I am, MC. I just needed you so badly. Just like your body needed me. But I’m sorry. So sorry. It won’t happen again.”

Sebastian woke the next morning with the guilt deep in his bones. He held your sleeping form close, hoping and praying that he hadn’t hurt you – physically or emotionally. He’d been out of control the night before. But he’d tried to stop you from taking that damned potion. Still, he’d promised himself after the Scriptorium that he’d never do anything to hurt you again. There was only one way to make sure that happened.

You stirred as sunlight from a window hit your face. You groaned and flipped around to bury your face in Sebastian’s chest, hiding from the light. He wished he could hide, too.

“MC?” he asked.

“Mm,” you replied, refusing to lift your head. You adjusted the gown you wore. It had twisted up a bit as you flipped over.

Sebastian raked your hair out of your face with his fingers, letting them linger in your locks for just a moment longer than necessary. He was savouring being close to you. You might never let him near you again. “I…I need to tell you something,” he said.

“Now?” you whinged.

He swallowed the lump in his throat. “It’s…important,” he said.

You tilted your head back to squint up at him through the bright light. “What is it?” you asked, obviously worried.

He took a deep breath. He had to tell you. He owed you that much. “I’ve been doing…things while you’ve been sleeping.”

Your brows furrowed together. “Things?” You were squinting less but still groggy, and Sebastian wasn’t making sense.

“Yes. Things I shouldn’t’ve done. I’m sorry. I really am. I just couldn’t help myself.”

“Sebastian, what on earth are you talking about?”

Sebastian squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, working to force the words out. “I’ve been, erm, touching you when we sleep together.” He felt like he was going to be sick. How had he let it go so far?

To his shock, you laughed in his face. “Yeah, Bash, I know.”

You did? Why were you so calm about it? Had you liked it? Had you been awake the whole time?

His thoughts raced in the short pause before you continued, “I put your hand on my stomach, remember?”

His heart sank with the weight of even more guilt at your implicit trust of him. You couldn’t fathom he’d betray you like he had. “Not just there. Other places,” he admitted. His face flamed.

You just kept looking at him with a confused expression marring your features.

“Your…erm, your bum and breasts and…your cunt. Not just rubbing you, but I…I fingered you. And I – Merlin, I’m so sorry – I put my…” He had to stop and take a deep breath. “I fucked your thighs last night.”

The lines in your forehead deepened. “You…what? Bash, that’s not funny. Why are you saying this?”

His heart nearly shattered. Here he was telling you explicitly what he’d done, and you still couldn’t believe it. He hadn’t known admitting his sins would mean having to convince you they really happened. “I’m not joking. It’s…it’s true. I’m so sorry.”

You gaped at him. You thought back to the last several nights you’d spent together. The dreams you’d been having – even last night after taking the potion. You felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped on your head. “Why?” you asked.

“I just couldn’t resist you. Or I didn’t want to,” he said. He didn’t want to act like he hadn’t made a choice. He knew he did. “Being so close to you. I just wanted you so badly. I’ve always wanted you – ever since the day we met. And when I touched you, you’d moan or sigh and your nipples got hard and you were wet. Like you liked it. But I know you would feel guilty about doing those things with me. So, I told myself that touching you while you slept meant I could make you feel good and you wouldn’t have to feel guilty, because you had no choice. But really, I just like it and didn’t want to stop. And then I kept going further. And last night…with your thighs…that was just to make me feel good. I’m so sorry. I won’t let it happen again. I won’t sleep in your bed anymore.”

Your head was spinning as you tried to process all the information. In the end, all you could say was, “I guess that explains why my knickers are gone.”

Sebastian hadn’t realised he’d forgotten to replace them. He scolded himself for being so stupid. Not that it mattered now after his confession.

You felt like you should be terrified. Sprint out of the room. Report him to Black or Weasley. But this was Sebastian. You’d been through so much together. You cared about him so much. You–

“I’m so sorry, MC,” he said, interrupting your thoughts. You had been quiet for too long, and he couldn’t take it. “I love you, and I promised myself I’d never hurt you again. But I fucked up so badly. I know making you come isn’t exactly the cruciatus curse, but it was a violation, and it’s probably worse in a lot of ways. You’d given me permission in the Scriptorium, at least.”

So, you had come like you dreamt. Of all the things you could have or should have felt, you felt relieved that you hadn’t totally missed the first time Sebastian made you orgasm. Or, what you assumed was the first time. It was still all so confusing. “Was that the first time?” you asked.

Sebastian shook his head, and your heart sank. “I touched your breasts after we rescued all those nifflers from poachers last week.”

Now you were confused. You really doubted you could orgasm just from your breasts being touched. The question escaped before could control your tongue. “You’re sure I came?”

“Last night?” Sebastian asked as his cheek flushed. “I mean, pretty sure. I–I’d never seen a girl orgasm before, but from what I’ve heard…Well, and I could feel…” His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. “Feel…the pulses with…with my finger in you.” He couldn’t look at you.

Your brow furrowed again. “I’m confused,” you stated. “Last week was the first time you made me orgasm or last night was?”

He looked at you again. “Last week was the first time I touched you. Last night was the first time I fingered you and the first time you came. As far as I know. But I feel like I’d have noticed,” he said.

You nodded in understanding. You were quiet for a minute. “And you came, too?” you asked.

Sebastian nodded, looking down at the mattress. It was hard to avoid your gaze when you two were still lying so close together.

“And that was the first time you came?” you inquired.

He nodded again. “Well, with you,” he said. He added quickly, “Or anyone! I mean, I’ve…touched myself before. Alone.”

That had your mind spinning again. “And you came from fucking my thighs?” you asked, your hand absently traced your skin beneath the covers.

Sebastian squeezed his eyes shut as he nodded. He felt like such a disgusting creep.

You tilted your head. “Do you want to fuck me?” You wondered if this was more about you or some weird fetish thing.

Sebastian’s eyes snapped open. “Yes, but I would never do that! I wouldn’t take you while you’re asleep. I swear! That’s part of why I told you. To make sure it…To make sure I wouldn’t lose control again and do something I’d regret.”

“So, you do want to, but you’d regret it?” you asked, confusion creeping back again.

“I’d regret using you again while you’re asleep,” he said.

You held back a smirk. “So, you want to fuck me while I’m awake?” The thought had heat blooming in your abdomen.

His whole face was red. “Of course,” he confirmed. “I mean, ‘fuck’ makes it sound so detached, but I…I want to make love to you.”

As he raked a gentle hand through your hair, a statement he made that you heard but hadn’t processed was yanked to the front of your mind. I love you, and I promised myself I’d never hurt you again. He loved you. He wanted to make love. Because he loved you.

You looked up into his warm brown eyes and couldn’t believe how you’d never seen the love in them before. It seemed so obvious now. “You love me?” you asked, more to hear the words again than confirm he meant them.

He nodded. “So much, MC,” he said earnestly. “I’m so sorry. I swear I–”

“Don’t be sorry,” you said before acting on impulse and pressing your lips to his. He looked stunned when you pulled back. “I love you, too.”

His jaw fell open as he gaped openly at you.

You kept his gaze. “I want you to touch me. But when I’m awake. I want to be with you, Sebastian. And, for the record, I wouldn’t regret it. I turned down everyone else because I didn’t want them. I just want you.”

“You’re the only one I want, too,” he said, bringing a hand up to caress your cheek. “I promise I’ll take care of you.”

He slid his other arm under you to hold you tight to his chest.

“I know,” you replied as you snuggled in closer to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and tangling your legs with his. You nuzzled into his chest, and Sebastian rested his cheek on top of your head. He took in the relaxing scent of your shampoo and the warmth of your body against his. He was flooded with relief to know you didn’t hate him. More than that, you loved him back, which made him indescribably happy.

He was, perhaps, a bit too happy.

“Oh,” you said in surprise, pulling back to look up at him.

Sebastian could feel the blush colouring his cheeks. “Sorry, I just…really like having you in my arms.”

You gave him a sultry smirk. “I like it, too,” you replied. You bit your lip as you pressed your hips forward into his.

He groaned at the contact. “You just like getting me worked up, you little minx,” he chastised playfully.

You gained a mischievous glint in your eye. “Maybe,” you replied, feigning innocence with your doe-eyed expression as you wriggled your hips to continue the torture. He could see your eyes darken as you brought your hand down to palm his growing erection. “Or maybe I’d like to take care of you.” You winked at him.

Sebastian moaned, dropping his forehead to rest on yours. “I’d like that,” he breathed.

“Tell me more about what you did while I slept,” you said as you pulled his length out of his trousers, wrapping your hand around him. Your teeth sunk into your lips as you looked down between the two of you at his cock, proudly erect and looking almost painfully red.

“Well, at first, I…Fuck, that feels so good!” Sebastian said, his head lolling back as you stroked him. “MC…”

“At first you what?” you pressed, pausing your movements.

Sebastian whimpered at the loss. “I just wanted to hold your tits,” he admitted.

You grabbed his hand, placing it on your chest quickly before returning to your prior task of fisting his cock. Sebastian moaned as he immediately massaged his fingers into your supple flesh.

“Then, I needed to see them,” he admitted.

Before he could tug your gown out of the way, you had sat up and ripped it over your head.

“Sweet Merlin,” Sebastian breathed as he took in the sight of you. In a flash, he had shucked his bottoms and was on top of you, pressing you back into the mattress as his lips devoured yours. “Gods, you’re so beautiful!”

You moaned in response as he sucked on your neck. He palmed your breast in his left hand while his right arm propped himself up. You gripped at his shoulders, bunching the fabric of his pyjama shirt. Sebastian sat back on his heels and worked open the buttons urgently before he tossed the shirt off.

Your hands dragged down his torso and around to the lean muscles of his back as he covered your body with his again. He pressed into you, soaking in the warmth of your skin and relishing the feeling of your breasts pressed against his chest and the pressure on his cock as it was pinned between your bodies. He dove his tongue into your mouth as he kissed you, making you moan as you pulled him tighter against you. Gods, he loved kissing you.

You were panting when he pulled back. “I tasted you next,” he said, holding your gaze as he moved down so his face was even with your breasts. He hovered over your peak for a few seconds, letting his warm breath fan over your skin and watching as your breaths quickened and your bottom lip disappeared between your teeth.

“I’m s-supposed to be taking care of you, you know,” you said. Your voice was too needy to chide him effectively.

Sebastian smirked. “Yes, well, I seem to have gotten distracted.”

You whimpered as he circled his tongue around your already-stiff nipple before wrapping his lips around it. He alternated suckling and flicking his tongue back and forth over it.

“Oh, Sebastian,” you keened desperately.

He loved hearing you moan his name. He liked bringing you pleasure and seeing how worked up you got from him. His hand slid down your stomach as he released your nipple from his mouth. “I didn’t stop at your breasts, though,” he said lowly. Your breath hitched as he cupped his hand over the mound between your legs. “I touched you here.” He parted your folds, running his finger through your soaked slit. He thought it felt even wetter than it had the night before. “Rubbing you…” He circled the pad of his middle finger over your clit. “And plunging into you…” He slid the finger down your slit and sank it into your tight pussy.

“Oh, fuck!” you groaned, throwing your head back into the pillow. “Gods, that feels so good!”

Sebastian smirked with pride. He watched as his finger disappeared inside you over and over again. Your sweet little cunt looked delicious clinging to his finger like that.

Sebastian bit back a groan. “There are some things I didn’t get to do,” he observed, giving you a devilish grin.

You were too distracted by the sensation of his finger filling you to reply, but Sebastian didn’t mind. He liked the idea of fucking you dumb – he just hadn’t expected it to be so easy. He bent down, dipping his head to your core. He licked up the sides of your slit as he kept fucking you with his finger. You took in a sharp gasp before moaning his name.

You had a musky, faintly sweet taste. He’d never tasted anything like you, and he found himself unable to get his fill. He kept lapping eagerly before concentrating on the buddle of nerves at the top. You became a mewling mess as he kept thrusting his finger into you and flicking his tongue over your clit. You tangled a hand into his hair, holding him in place against your core as your hips lifted off the bed. As if he would’ve gone anywhere else.

Your moans kept increasing in both frequency and desperation. “Shit, that’s so–I-I’m gonna come!” you whined. Your whole body tensed, even your breaths ceased, before you let out a loud groan as he felt your cunt begin to pulse around him.

You collapsed back against the mattress with your chest heaving. You whined as Sebastian kept licking at your folds and pumping lazily into you. You used your purchase in his hair to pull him off.

“Come here,” you begged. “Please. I want you. I–Gods, I need you!”

Fuck, it was happening. He’d dreamt of it. So. Many. Times. He didn’t waste any time crawling back up your body. Both of your hands became tangled in his hair as he melded his lips with yours.

“I love you,” he panted before kissing you again.

“I love you, too,” you replied as you brought a leg up around his waist. Sebastian groaned as your hot core pressed against his length. “Now let me show you.”

Sebastian reached a hand down to grip his cock. He dragged its head through your slit. His eyes rolled back at just being pressed against your entrance. “Gods, I love your body. Your perfect little cunt,” he groaned.

“Please,” you keened, arching your hips up to try to get him inside.

With your appeal, Sebastian sank into your heat slowly, carefully. He released a breathy moan as he bottomed out inside you. He swore under his breath at how tightly you gripped him. You moaned as he sucked against your neck. He wanted to connect every part of your bodies, in every way possible.

You started moving your hips first, and Sebastian took it as his cue to start thrusting. He kept his face buried in your neck as he glided in and out of you. You met his thrusts, using the leg wrapped around him to pull your bodies even closer together. At some point, he had become the one whimpering. He couldn’t contain the noises that poured form his lips. You just felt so good.

“Faster,” you said, and Sebastian was happy to oblige.

His hips were snapping into yours when he felt his impending orgasm. He couldn’t tell how close you were, though. He did his best to hold off, but soon he could feel the point of no return looming. “Fuck, I’m gonna come if we don’t stop,” he groaned.

You moaned. “Come for me,” you said without hesitation. “Come in me, Seb.”

Sebastian’s cock throbbed at the thought of it and in a few more pumps his orgasm crashed through him. His seed burst out of him until it began seeping out of you and around the base of his cock. He kept thrusting, pushing his seed further into you. Some primal part of him wanted you as full of him as possible.

Once satisfied, Sebastian collapsed over top of you. He placed innumerable kisses over your neck, chest, and cheek. Finally, he pulled out of you. You winced as he did.

“Are you okay?” he asked worriedly. “Did…did I hurt you?”

“Nothing bad. It’s just…sensitive,” you replied. You gave him a reassuring smile. “It felt amazing.”

Sebastian felt relief flood through him. “You were incredible,” he said in awe before crushing his mouth into yours. “I love you.” He kissed you again, more softly this time. “So much.”

He gently brushed your hair out of your face as he looked down at you reverently.

You laughed. “Yes, I think you mentioned it,” you teased, smirking up at him.

His cheeks flushed red. “Sorry, I–”

You pecked his lips, cutting him off. “It’s sweet, Sebastian,” you assured him. “I love you, too. You can tell me the same as much as you like.”

His face split in a broad grin. “I love you, MC,” he said. He gave your lips a peck like you’d given him. “I love you.” He nuzzled into your neck, making you giggle as he kissed your skin open-mouthed. “Gods, I love you!”

You laughed at his ridiculousness. Sebastian moved to lie beside you. He pulled you into him so your chests were pressed together and your legs entangled. For a long time, you just lay entwined together, basking in your afterglow. Sebastian stroked your hair languidly as you traced delicate patterns on his back with your fingertips.

“Hey!” you said suddenly, jerking your head up to give him a reproving look.

Sebastian’s pulse spiked at the anger in your voice. He was stared at you wide-eyed, just waiting for the shoe to drop.

“You owe me new knickers,” you whinged.

A smirk broke onto Sebastian’s face. “I don’t think you’ll be needing any of those for some time,” he replied, shifting the two of you so that he hovered over you. “Though, I’m sure I could find a way to make it up to you.”

He dipped his head and began to kiss down from the angle of your jaw to your shoulder.

“Oh?” you said, intrigued. “What did you have in mind?”

Sebastian chuckled against your skin. “Everything,” he said, eager to explore the plethora of licentious scenarios running through his mind with you.

You moaned as he sucked a particularly sensitive spot on your neck. “I like the sound of that.”

#sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x f!mc #hogwarts legacy fanfic #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian x mc #sebastian sallow fanfic #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #sebastian sallow x reader #non-consensual touching #non-consent #somnophilia #non-consensual somnophilia #dead dove do not eat

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liaredrose · 7 months

Text

Okay, time for a kinda serious post.

As some of you might know, I write Dramione. No great author here, just a girl who enjoys writing and likes the ship.

In the last week I’ve received a series of comments on two different FanFictions that have left me quite speechless.

There are others but I think that’s enough.

I’m not offended.

I just don’t understand.

I thought the whole point in writing FanFictions was that we could take the characters we love and make them do something which is obviously not canon or none of us would be here.

Did I miss the meeting where we decided this was not okay any longer and we have to stay canon compliant?

Do I have to poll some committee before posting a fanfiction?

Do I have to do a research on the grades of Draco Malfoy?

If that’s the case I’ll keep on writing for myself and my closest friends because I most certainly will not anyone tell me what to do.

We are allowed to have opinions. We are allowed not to like something. A trope, a story, a ship.

But we are also obliged to be respectful, that’s the only rule I care about.

Constructive comments are wonderful. Asking someone you’ve never met in your entire life if she is drunk is not.

If you don’t like a story, there’s no need to be mean. Just stop reading, no one is forcing you.

I love this fandom, I really do. I was a silent reader before deciding to post my first story and I loved that. I met wonderful people and made amazing friends. But god, lately it’s become toxic.

Hate posts on Facebook.

Bashing stories and authors on every platform. For stories we can all read for free.

Are we all right? Like seriously.

We are talking about Dramione. Dramione.

Can we all just chill out and leave people write whatever they want to? Canon. Fanon. Nonsense. Smut. Werewolf Draco. A/B/O. Whatever.

Write.

Read.

Have fun.

Life is already difficult enough without having to deal with mean comments or posts.

That said, peace and love.

I’m going back to write stoned Draco and Hermione talking in the RoR.

Love ya

#dramione #fandom #dramione fandom #toxic people #mean comments #mean posts #bashing #author bashing #ao3

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elliesflower · 1 year

Text

i saw you in a dream [3]

chapter 2 here

summary; you can't get ellie off your mind

chapter; 3/? 2.9k words

cw (per chapter); recreational marijuana usage, language, anxious thoughts

a/n; wooo another chapter, also sorry this is turning into a slower burn than i thought, i'll have to write a separate one shot with some smut just to fulfill the desire until i get to the smut in this story lmao, anyways, as always let me know what you think, and find it on AO3 here :)

To say you were fascinated by Ellie may be an understatement.

In such a short amount of time, she seemed to completely captivate your mind. Fueled by the weed the two of you had smoked, you watched her become more comfortable, opening up, even if just barely. She showed you recent artwork she’d done, to which your reaction may or may not have been holy fuck, these are incredible, Ellie.

She was funny, too, like really funny. It wasn’t often that someone could make you laugh as hard as she did, whether from a terrible character impression, or an even worse pun—seriously, it was like she studied a book on the World’s Worst Dad Jokes, or something.

Oh, and of course, she was a million times better at teaching guitar than your actual guitar teacher. She made it easy to understand, simplifying the techniques without making you feel stupid, while teaching you new tricks along the way. To your own astonishment, she helped you to play the entire first verse all the way through the chorus, a feat you’d begun to think may not even be possible. Part of you wished she wasn’t as good, for the selfish desire to stay longer in her presence.

Toward the end of your lesson, she even let you hear her sing, and you could have sworn it was like a choir of angels had descended on the room. Despite reluctance to accept your praises, she gave you that same crooked smile, mumbling a bashful thank you under her breath before quickly changing the subject. She was cocky and confident one moment, and then reserved and soft in another.

Even though she was hard to read at times, Ellie was quickly becoming your favorite book.

“I’d say you’re pretty well prepared for your final,” Ellie announced, breaking you out of your trance. It was getting late, but you didn’t want to leave—not yet, not when you still ached to know her better. Your high may have been wearing off, but you could have sworn your head was still above the clouds as you looked across the room at her. She met your gaze with an easy smile, her evergreen eyes low and inviting.

“I think so too,” you tried to sound casual, but it came out a bit too eager. “Seriously, I think I learned more in the past hour than I did in the past three months of class.”

Ellie laughed, and you loved the way the sound was no longer foreign.

“Well, I’m glad I was able to help. You were easy to teach,” she said, turning away to haphazardly organize some of the drawings she’d splayed out on her desk; however, not before you caught her battling a coy smirk.

The blush you’d been fighting the past few hours threatened to surface again as you quickly stood up, opting to pack your things away into your guitar case to avoid further discomfiture. It was like Ellie flipped a switch in your brain, and you forgot how to act like a normal person. She had you caught between shy and uninhibited, you wanted to impress her, but at the same time, she was intimidating. How could one person hold this much power over your brain without even trying?

“Here,” Ellie said suddenly, breaking you out of your thoughts once more. You looked up to see her outstretched hand, with a small, black tube between her fingers—a pre-roll.

“Sour Pineapple. It’s what we’ve been smoking today,” she explained. “Maybe try some before your final.”

“You’re telling me I need to smoke weed before my final?” You asked, grabbing the container from her before throwing your guitar case back over your shoulder. Your fingertips grazed over hers, and you only wished you could reach just that much further and touch her. You wanted to trace the veins on the back of her hand, grip her wrists and feel her heartbeat pulse beneath your fingers—but, you’d take what you could get. She wanted you to have this pre-roll. A reminder of your time together. Perhaps, that was enough.

“If it makes you play like you did today, then yes,” Ellie laughed again, and dropped her arms to her side. She stood there for a moment, staring at you, and all you could do was stare back and wow, there was that fervid heat rising to your face again.

“So…you got everything?” She asked, taking a glance around the room. Was she stalling? Maybe she did want you to stay…or maybe she just wanted to make sure you had everything? Oh god, why is discerning human emotions so hard?

“Uh, yeah, I think so,” your eyes followed hers around the room for a moment, but you were pretty sure you grabbed all your sheet music.

“Okay, cool…we can head downstairs then,” she said, and there she was, slipping softly back into introversion. You nodded with a slight smile, and begrudgingly, you followed her as she made her way past you out the door.

“You gonna make it back to your dorm alright?” She asked as she descended the stairs.

“Oh, yeah,” you replied, though you had a fleeting thought that maybe she’d offer to walk you if you’d said no. “I’m meeting my roommate at the coffee shop down the street, and we’ll walk home together.”

“Good,” she said, so quietly that you almost missed it. At the bottom of the stairs, she hovered while you grabbed your coat off the rack, and before you could slip your guitar all the way off your shoulder, she was by your side in a heartbeat.

“Let me grab that for you,” she said, and it was almost laughable how much more assured and comfortable she sounded saying those same words from just a few hours ago. You let yourself blush this time, passing the guitar to her as you slid your arms through the sleeves of your jacket.

“Thanks for everything,” you couldn’t help but to say, and you wondered if you should reach out and touch her. Just a light graze of the arm—anything to show you were interested, that you wanted to know her favorite movie, and what she liked to do when it was raining outside, and if she likes to stay up late or wake up early, and what she likes in her coffee, if she even likes coffee, or maybe she’s a tea person, or maybe she doesn’t care for either—but the fear of rejection proved stronger. You reached for your guitar and that was it.

“Like I said, you were easy to teach,” she replied easily, handing off the guitar before opening the front door. “Seriously, you’re gonna do great. Why don’t you let me know how it goes?”

Internally, you were jumping up and down—also maybe crying, screaming, throwing up—and of course, externally, you walked past her onto the porch without missing a beat. She wants to keep in touch with you? Well, maybe you were getting ahead of yourself. She probably just needs proof of the lesson to actually receive her extra credit. Yep, that was it.

“Oh, of– of course! I’ll…email you?”

It dawned on you that you don’t even have her number—that initial flier only listed her email. Would it be weird to ask for her number? Was she trying to ask for your number?

“Uh, yeah, sounds great,” she replied after a moment, and her face held a look you couldn’t quite decipher. Nervousness? Indifference? At this point, you were considering changing your major to Psychology.

In spite of your dismay, you felt like you were swooning at the sight of her. Her face was positively glowing, bathed in the golden porch light as she leaned against the doorframe. You took a deep breath and committed the warm, vanilla musk that billowed from her house to memory. She smiled at you, softly, and it just barely made a crease next to her eyes.

“Alright, well, thanks again,” you said, giving your own awkward smile in return. If you were trying to find a way to stay, this was definitely not sealing the deal.

“Have a good night, okay?” Ellie’s voice was soft. Whether she didn’t notice your awkwardness, or chose to spare you further embarrassment, you were grateful.

There was nothing left to say, nothing that could realistically allow you to stay without sounding crazy. So, you offered another weak smile, and turned to leave. As you walked down the steps, you faintly heard the door close, and resisted the urge to look back, or maybe run back, knock on the door again and start over. You felt a little silly, admittedly—less than five hours ago you’d nearly ran the other direction, expecting a serial killer, yet you were now quite literally hanging your head as you left, dejected.

The streetlights were just turning on in the city as you sent a quick text to Dina, confirming her location, and picked up your pace a bit. The cold air nipped at your cheeks, and you zipped up your coat to further cover your face as you walked. She was, luckily, waiting outside for you, at a small table beneath an outdoor heater. Her ponytail bounced as she nearly jumped out of her chair when she caught sight of you.

“My god, I was starting to think maybe she did end up killing you or something,” she teased, handing you a paper coffee cup. You rolled your eyes, affectionately, and gratefully accepted the beverage, using it to warm your cold hands.

“Well, how did it go?” Dina asked, falling into step beside you.

“I already told you, it was…good,” you smiled, bringing the cup to your lips to take a sip. Ugh, let this be a reminder to never let her order you coffee. It tasted like bitters and sadness.

“Duh, but I need more context! Come on, you left me hanging in the middle of our conversation, you gotta give me something,” she complained, smacking you in the arm with the back of her hand.

“I’m not giving you shit if you hit me one more time,” you threatened playfully, pointing a finger at her. She raised her hands in feign innocence.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” she laughed.

As close as you’d gotten with Dina in just a few short months, you’d always had a hard time opening up, to anyone. Though, it’s not like she would judge you. Dina was so open about her life, sharing everything from the smallest crush she had at the moment, to even the biggest things like her mother passing away when she was young—you sometimes wished it was that easy for you to be as transparent as her. But you were never sure when you’d share too much with anyone, and scare them away.

“She wasn’t a serial killer, for one,” you started, feeling yourself open up. “She was actually really nice, and, like, amazing at guitar…and she was also kind of cute,” you added the last part quickly and quietly, taking another sip of the terrible coffee and staring straight ahead to avoid seeing her reaction. You couldn’t resist a side-eye at her though, and her mouth was agape, an amused look on her face.

“Cute?!” She exclaimed. “You couldn’t have led with that?”

You laughed, the anxiety in your brain slowly dwindling. It was okay. Dina wasn’t going to judge you. She cares about you.

“Go on, go on, please,” Dina gestured to you, encouraging you to continue. Taking a deep breath, you let yourself retell the events of the past few hours, even down to the smallest details—how the two of you smoked together, how she really was like a guitar legend in a way, how it sometimes felt as though the tension was tangible in the smoky room, how you often found yourself getting lost in her eyes, how you longed to know the story of how she got the scar in her eyebrow, and wow it all came rushing out of you, you couldn’t stop, it was like word vomit and oh god you really had it bad.

Timidly, you spared a glance over at Dina, who was nearly tripping over her own feet as she watched you, completely invested in your story. She let out a laugh, and you couldn’t tell if it was with you or at you.

“I know, I sound insane,” you literally cringed, pressing your palm against your cheek as if to snap yourself out of it. You’d said too much, you were in too deep.

“No, no, no, not at all!” Dina laughed again, but this time it was more assuring. “I’m mostly just wondering how you had time to get in any actual guitar playing between all that chemistry you just described,” she smirked now, elbowing you playfully. This time, you laughed with her, feeling more at ease.

“Oh shut up,” you elbowed her back, and you couldn’t help but to smile at the ground as you walked along. Perhaps a bit archaic, but you felt absolutely smitten. The thought of Ellie alone had you literally smiling at the ground.

“Tell me you got her number, at least?” She questioned as the two of you approached your dorm building. Thanks for the reminder, Dina.

“Erm, not quite,” you admitted, stopping outside the entrance.

“Okay, then puh-lease tell me you at least pretended to still suck at guitar so that you could see her again?” She turned to face you again as she fished her student ID out of her backpack and scanned into the building.

“Oh my god, where were you with that idea like, an hour ago?” You groaned as she swept past you through the door and into the lobby. That was a much better plan than stuttering awkwardly as you left, thus possibly ruining any future chance you may have at seeing her again.

“Oh, you know, just studying for my finals, being ignored by my roomie, the usual,” Dina sighed dramatically, one hand over her heart as you trailed behind her. You rolled your eyes at her, this time not so affectionately.

“Don’t worry, I’ll forgive you,” she said after a moment, bumping into you softly. “As long as you promise to tell me more about this dreamy Ellie girl.”

You caught yourself smiling bashfully at the ground once more, the thought of the red-headed girl alone sending butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

“Deal.”

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

The next few days came and went, though more slowly than usual. Work seemed to drone on—even with students becoming more and more panicked as finals week quickly approached, the campus bookstore was surprisingly slow. You spent most of your work days standing behind the counter, mindlessly scrolling through your phone, occasionally reviewing your Woman’s Literature textbook for your test on Tuesday. At this point, it was quite possible you could pass that exam in your sleep.

Your guitar final, though? That was a different story.

You see, you had tried to practice by yourself, trying to remember every little technique that Ellie had taught you. The only problem with that? Then you couldn’t stop thinking about her. Albeit, you had barely stopped thinking, let alone talking about her since Saturday. Luckily, Dina was more than happy to listen, only further fueling your fantasy.

And yet, Wednesday came entirely too quickly. From the moment you woke up, the mere thought of your final cast an anxious mood on your day, stomach twisting and turning in anticipation. God, you’d done just fine when you were with Ellie, you rationally knew you could play all the way through the first verse, but it was like your fingers stopped working whenever you started picturing her in your head; eyes closed, leaning into her guitar, playing with earnest and conviction, smiling softly as she looked up at you and sang quietly.

As you sat at your desk, painting that beautiful picture in your mind, Dina laid in her bed on the other side of the room, rambling on FaceTime with one of her friends from back home about one of her upcoming finals. You tuned her out, listening to your own music quietly from your laptop as you got ready to head to your final.

You say, ‘I want to be your girlfriend’

It wasn't really in my plans

When you're around, I've got arrhythmia

So in the end, I play pretend,

Your guitar sat propped against your bed, tormenting you silently. You were toying with the thought of actually smoking the Sour Pineapple that Ellie had gifted you. Although, part of you considered the sentimental thought that you should just keep it forever. Ugh. Having a crush was mentally exhausting.

You clicked around on your computer, making a half-assed attempt at checking that all your other final assignments were turned in. A quiet email notification sounded through the music, and you clicked on the open tab. Your eyes almost fell out of your head when you saw the name that sat at the top of your inbox.

Ellie Williams (no subject)

You quickly opened the message, and your heart nearly jumped out of your chest.

Good luck today!! You’re gonna do great. Let me know how it goes. You can text me if that’s easier :)

Oh my god. Oh my god oh my god oh my god. She remembered your final. She wants you to text her. She gave you her number. She’s been thinking about you? Your smile was automatic, reaching ear to ear as the butterflies returned to your stomach.

Dina needed to get off the phone immediately.

chapter 4 here

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams x you #the last of us #tlou #ellie tlou #dina tlou #tlou pt 2 #ellie x you

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elenajones23 · 2 months

Note

I'm confused. I don't understand how one minute, you say you ship Forwood and have Forwood content on your blog. But then most of your other posts about Caroline are bashing her and saying how she's useless, irrelevant, and annoying. Basically implying that as a person on her own and outside of her relationship, she isn't worthy and has no purpose or agency of her, and is only capable of being interesting and likable based on the guy she's with.

You're not required to like Caroline, but it doesn't take liking her to see how harmful and problematic this kind of mentality is. I don't know what's gotten into fans recently, that they suddenly have it out for Caroline, but the things I've seen being said about her lately are just not acceptable. She may not have been a perfect person, but regardless of what she did, that's no excuse for people to dog her out the way they have. I mean, you're acting as if Caroline is the devil incarnate or some kind of terrorist or something. And just because she was my favorite, doesn't mean I approved or agreed with everything she did. But unlike you and most fans, I know how to give constructive criticism and hold people accountable without having to dogpile on that person.

And as for Elena, I did like her in seasons 1-3, but seasons 4 and onwards? I'm sorry, but she was just vile and horrible. I will never stand by and defend or make excuses for someone who knew for a fact that her boyfriend raped and abused her best friend, and still chose to be with him anyway and just didn't care. Whether you like Caroline or not, regardless of you thought she was useless and all that, that doesn't change the fact that at the end of the day, Damon did rape her and abuse her in season one. It doesn't make what he did null and void. Unless you're one of those who's in denial and refuses to accept that Damon is a rapist and abuser. Or who victim blames/shames Caroline for that and says she deserved it. Which in that case, you've got bigger issues and are just as bad as all the rest of them.

Why don't you keep that same energy and aim that vitriol at characters who actually deserve it, and have done shit far worse and more abhorrent than Caroline? Like the majority of the men on the show? But I seem to have forgotten that men can do vile shit time and time again and still get defended. While if a woman makes even one mistake, she'll be burned at the stake over it for the rest of her life.

I “like” Caroline with Tyler because she’s forced upon me but when she’s with Tyler, she’s contained into that relationship and I don’t have to deal with her crap & her drama. So I liked them in sense it gives me a break from Caroline. She doesn’t have to shoved everywhere.

Tyler makes her bearable. I “ship” them in the sense of Caroline must be with someone because she’s there then I would prefer her to be with Tyler rather than anyone else on the show, I would “ship” her with Matt as well because it’s literally the same.

I never defend Damon or reblog any posts defending that rapist, it’s honestly disgusting that they actually made him & Caroline “close friends” or whatever bullshit is that. He has shown NO remorse or guilt for what he did to Caroline, or Bonnie or Stefan for that matter.

I’m disgusted that I was hardcore Delena shipper & Damon defender (never about what he did to Caroline, as a Delena shipper I just conveniently forgot what he did, no seriously I did)

Damon is an ACTUAL CREEP, hanging out with teenagers looking his age a man in his 30’s paining over a teenager he hardly knows/understands, where his whole life purpose is to just obsess with her 24/7.

It’s honestly pathetic, creepy and weak. What he couldn’t find someone closer to his age, a woman in her 20’s-30’s?

He has to go after his brother girlfriend? Why it does NOT add or make any sense and Elena is NOT at all the right fit for him in any shape or form, even if he wasn’t a rapist, creepy stalker he does NOT like WHO she is, he does NOT care about the things & people that matter to her, he mocks it, he belittles it and he literally thinks he “knows her better” because Elena has a fun side to her. He does NOT actually know her NOR UNDERSTANDS NOR love her, he loves the “nicer” version of Katherine (the only woman he actually truly loved with all her evilness) which is what Elena is to him, nothing more nothing less, Damon 100% PROJECTS Katherine into Elena but this version is actually nice to him but that’s about it.

The fact in his delusion after yeh werewolf but in 2x22 he “sees” Katherine and NOT Elena (even as Delena shipper back then I found that to very odd, because he supposedly spent the whole season hating Katherine & loving Elena yet he sees Katherine) just proves that he never actually stopped loving Katherine, she just hurt too many times and he has pride, had Katherine truly offered to be with him at any given time a real offer, I 100% know he would have taken her upon that offer and they would been the villains of the show for years (oh wait even though they weren’t together, they kind of were)

Damon is literally the male version of Katherine, the only difference Damon being a handsome “charming” MAN he was EXCUSED for all of his actions, he was DEFENDED endlessly Inter expense of other characters and freaking storylines.

The Damon the whole fandom seems to love oh so much is literally a made up Damon in their heads, I know this through my own personal experience and from how the still Delena stand defend him, this “sad little boy who was never loved hence he did all these awful things” he just needs the “love of a good woman” is what they want to believe him to be, it’s NOT who he truly is.

The reality is that Damon is pathetic, creepy, disgusting stalker/rapist and if Damon wasn’t played by such an attractive actor and played by an average looking guy who they (the make up artists)?also make him ugly with the right makeup, people would see the REAL Damon for exactly who is.

The reason you don’t like Elena S4-S6 is because that’s NOT the real Elena, the real Elena “died” when she became a vampire, her moments with Stefan before she broke up with him, that’s also the REAL Elena FIGHTING very hard to stay herself.

The Elena that’s with Damon is vampire sired Elena, and there was never an actual logical or real explanation or any kind of REAL evidence that her sire bond to Damon was ever actually broken.

The fact that she didn’t take the cure shows that NOT the real Elena, that she STILL did whatever Damon wanted (which for her to never to take the cure). Throughout S4 all she ever wanted to become human again and I would think that after her brother died to make sure they find it, that she would actually take it, if nothing else, she would take it for Jeremy’s sake so that his death actually means something.

Now onto your issue with me not liking Caroline, I literally NEVER ever liked her, not for one real minute, sure she had her moments here & there as vampire but I NEVER liked, she’s annoying af, selfish, shallow, stupid, self created and just right down BORING and stereotypical. She’s just an empty pretty vase/vessel for the writers to fill with whatever bullshit story they come up with.

I have actually tried to like her, believe it or not but I literally COULDN’T, just truly can NOT like her at all, she’s too blah as a person to me ever like or relate to in any shape or form.

Her fans/stans also just made it much worse, I didn’t like her but I have grown to hate her over the years because fans/stans such as yourself, who just can’t accept that there are people out there who hate/dislike their “precious” Caroline and nitpick onto other characters or much worse bully & give life threatening messages just because people actually “dared” to HATE their “precious” favorite Caroline, this “angelic Karen, Barbie vampire” who can do NO wrong at all, and everyone “must” be crazy about her.

Now as I have already explained everything to you, even as someone who hates/can’t stand Caroline, carline has never loved anyone to else as much as she loved Tyler, whoever ships Caroline with Klaus clearly does NOT love Caroline because she has made so very extremely and very annoyingly clear she is NOT interested in Klaus.

So if you shop Caroline & Klaus, you are shipping two people who do NOT actually exist (just like Delena or Hayley & Elijah) they are NOT their TRUE/REAL selves when these couples are shipped, simply projection of what people think these characters are.

I hope i answered everything and that next time you don’t just assume things about a person then hide behind “ anonymous” to feel as if you are a better person or whatever.

#anti caroline forbes #anti klaroline #anti tvd #tvd universe #tvd

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strangerstilinski · 10 months

Text

𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐕𝐎𝐋𝐔𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐈 ✶ Teen Wolf Rewrite

Stiles Stilinski / Original Female Character

TW | S2

chapter six

fic summary; as if the last month and a half hadn't been stressful enough – now there were a few more werewolves, a kanima, and a seriously disturbed old man added into the mix. but amber, stiles, and scott could totally handle it. it would be fine. everything was great.

word count; 12,386

chapter notes; the trio subdues jackson using totally normal, and not at all illegal methods. gerard argent is a creepy old asshole. danny eventually cracks to give up some useful information. and lydia, as always, is leagues smarter than she gets credit for.

masterlist

c h a p t e r s i x

frenemy

The wind whipped loudly as it beat in through the open window, blowing Scott's hair around wildly as he hung the top half of his body out of the moving vehicle, using his nose to guide them out to the edge of town. After ten minutes of following some scent that only he was aware of, he eventually pulled his head back inside of the vehicle, dropping into his seat and fidgeting as if he were ready to bolt from the car at any moment.

Amber was about to question his sudden restlessness when Stiles slammed down on the brakes all-too suddenly and the Jeep jerked to a violent halt, coming to a stop just before they could run over a nearly imperceptible line of tire spikes that stretched across the cement between dilapidated buildings. Roscoe's tires squealed in protest and one of Stiles' arms was thrown out across Amber's chest to counteract the continuing momentum, holding her back against her seat and only narrowly saving her from bashing her head against the metal dashboard.

Amber gasped at the sudden stop as Stiles leaned his weight onto his left arm over the steering wheel. Forearm still pressed to her chest, he turned to look across the vehicle at Scott, "Right. What do we do now?" He questioned immediately.

Instead of offering a response, Amber was hit with a sudden rush of cold air, the passenger door thrown open as Scott shot off into the dark.

"Wh- Scott-!" She yelled in surprise at his retreating form.

He didn't turn around. Instead, he scaled the tall, fifteen foot chain link fence at the edge of the road in a quick, inhumanly agile move and dropped down gracefully to the other side before taking off into the darkness.

"I- Be careful!" Amber called out uselessly as he vanished from sight.

"I'm just a car to him," Stiles muttered despondently to himself, "I am nothing more than the superhero's chauffeur to and from battle."

Amber couldn't hold back a roll of her eyes, reaching over to pull the passenger door closed before turning to her boyfriend, "Are you fishing for a compliment, right now?"

"What?" Stiles asked in confusion, "No-"

"Mhm, whatever you say," With a shake of her head, she pulled his arm away from where it was still thrown across her sternum and wrapped her fingers around his own as she placed their hands over the gearshift, "Let's go, Batman." She urged playfully.

The grip of his hand tightened beneath hers and he was shifting the Jeep into reverse without any further prompting. The car whipped around in a flash and they began to drive along the dark buildings in search.

They continued on for several minutes before they seemed to come to a slightly more populated area. A cluster of cars had been parked in a large lot, people lined up along the side street as they waited to be let into a brick building. What had once been a warehouse now donned a bright, neon sign reading Jungle.

No words needed to be shared before Stiles parked his own vehicle in a spot at the back of the lot. He was dropping an arm around her shoulders the moment they met at the front of the car, both of them watching for late night traffic as they crossed the dark street and headed toward the alleyway at the side of the busy building.

As they crept closer, Amber could make out the dull thumping of bass-heavy music pouring out from inside, the pulsating sound only confirming her suspicions that the building had been converted into a nightclub.

The two spotted Scott making his way around from the back of the brick building and their feet carried them in his direction that much faster.

He hadn't yet noticed them. Scott had stopped at the corner of the building to peek out at the line of people queued before the door. Amber reached out to grab ahold of his shoulder but just before she could make contact, Scott spun to face them sharply, the defensive reaction causing both Amber and Stiles to jump in surprise.

"Holy crap!" Scott exclaimed in slight relief upon realizing that it was only his friends.

"Sorry!" Amber apologized quickly, "Sorry, we didn't mean to-"

"Did you see where he went?" Stiles interrupted, letting his arm drop from Amber's shoulder to his side as he looked around them, gaze making a slow trail as if he expected Jackson to appear out of thin air.

"I lost him." Scott admitted quickly, already looking back toward the crowd of people out front.

"What?" Amber huffed in disbelief.

"You couldn't catch his scent?" Stiles asked incredulously.

"I don't think he has one." Scott revealed with wide eyes.

"Alright. That- that's fine." Amber sighed, "Do you have any idea where he's going?"

"To kill someone." Scott replied seriously.

The genuine way he voiced the information had Amber's eyes flicking to her boyfriend and she managed to catch sight of Stiles' slow blink of irritation before he spoke.

"Ah.." Stiles nodded in mock understanding, raising his eyebrows with a hum, "Well that explains the claws and the fangs and all that.. Good. Makes perfect sense now-"

Scott turned around to shoot Stiles an annoyed glare while Amber rolled her eyes fondly. There was a brief moment of silence between the three of them before Stiles simply barreled on.

"What? Guys, I'm a hundred and forty-seven pounds of pale skin and fragile bone, okay?" He defended in a whine, "Sarcasm is my only defense!"

"Baby, don't be so dramatic." Amber scolded, reaching up to smooth her thumb back and forth along the back of his neck.

Stiles perked up slightly, "Was that 'baby' like a cute pet name or 'baby' because you think I'm acting like a-"

"Will you guys just help me find it-" Scott demanded seriously, looking between the two of them with a scowl.

"Not an 'it' anymore," Amber was quick to reminded him, "It's Jackson."

Scott sighed, "I know. I-I know."

"Alright, but does Derek know that?" Stiles asked suddenly, "Did anybody else see him back at your house?"

"I mean, I-I don't think so but he already passed Derek's test anyway." Scott said quietly.

"Speaking of that, how the hell did he pass Derek's test?" Amber questioned as she looked between them, "I mean, he said they poured it down his throat and he was paralyzed, right? If he's the kanima, shouldn't it have not worked? I mean, how could that even happen?"

"I don't know." Scott frowned.

"Maybe it's like an either/or thing," Stiles supplied, "I mean, Derek said a snake can't be poisoned by its own venom, right? So, when's the kanima not the kanima?" He prompted, looking between Scott and Amber.

"..When it's Jackson?" She questioned aloud.

Scott frowned and peered around the side of the building again to look at the crowd while Amber gnawed on her lower lip in thought. She was suddenly tugged backwards by a hand fisted in her shirt and she allowed Stiles to drag her back a few steps before she turned her head to look at him in confusion. Her gaze followed his own wide blown eyes to the roof of the building where she saw the kanima crawling its way down the bricks.

Her stomach dropped.

"Uh.." She choked out weakly as she stumbled back into Stiles' chest.

"Dude-" Stiles said, gaining Scott's attention.

Scott turned back around to look at his friends curiously, stepping toward them and following their gazes up the side of the building where the kanima was now crawling inside through an open window, tail swishing in the air behind it.

"Y'see that?" Stiles asked Scott, watching the dark scaly tail still hanging outside the window as it flicked back and forth.

"He's inside." Scott stated obviously.

"What's he gonna do in there?" Amber questioned nervously.

Scott was silent for a moment and Amber's gaze drifted back down to her friend at his lack of response. He was looking anxiously at the crowd of people lined up at the door again.

"I know who he's after." Scott announced.

"What? Who?" Amber questioned.

"How? Did you smell something?" Stiles asked quickly.

The person at the front of the line was admitted inside the club and as the next person stepped forward, Amber blinked in surprise at the sight of Danny handing his ID over to the bouncer who was working the door.

"Yeah. Yeah, I smelled Armani." Scott told them, nodding his head in Danny's direction.

Amber yanked the two boys back into the alley sharply and they made small noises of protest as she did so. When she released them, they both righted their shirts and shot her matching looks of disgruntled confusion.

"Danny must have a fake, but we are not old enough to get in here. And don't even start to fight me on this. Your fake IDs suck-" She told them before they could make the argument, "So, we'll just have to sneak in through the back."

"Have I told you how ridiculously attractive you are when you're coming up with a plan?" Stiles questioned, wincing when he received an immediate punch in the shoulder from Scott.

Without a moment's hesitation, Amber was tugging her long-sleeved shirt over her head to leave herself in just the tiny lace bra top she had on underneath, adjusting the hem of it where it ended above her belly button.

"What are you doing?" Scott and Stiles both asked in abnormally high voices.

She blinked at them in surprise and dropped her shirt carelessly to the filthy ground in the alleyway, "I'm making myself club-y." She told them obviously, "We'll get kicked out in ten seconds if we're walking around in there looking like sixteen year olds who don't belong."

She bent over at the waist to fluff her hair with her hands before standing back upright again and taking in the boy's outfits with a frown.

"What?" Stiles asked after a few seconds, shrinking back under her gaze.

"Gimme your sweatshirt." Amber demanded, holding a hand out.

Stiles narrowed his eyes, "You just took your top off and now you wanna steal my sweatshirt?" The words fell from his lips with barely concealed disbelief.

"No, I just want you to not be wearing it," She told him, "You are not going to wear a zip-up hoodie in a nightclub." She stated obviously.

"Uh, I am going to wear a zip-up hoodie in the nightclub," Stiles defended without hesitation, "Because this is what I'm wearing. It's cold out!"

"It won't be cold in the club!" She argued.

"We seriously don't have time for this, you guys," Scott scolded them, "Come on."

Amber huffed, leaning over her boyfriend's shoulder and plastering herself to his side as they walked down the alley to the side doors of the building, "You win this round, Stilinski." She whispered in a warm puff of air over his ear.

A quiet noise rose in his throat at the feeling of her lips against the shell of his ear and Amber laughed quietly, pressing a sloppy kiss into his short hair. She released her boyfriend and fell into step between him and Scott as they snuck over to the side doors of the club.

Stiles' reached out first, and when the door didn't immediately open beneath his grip, he proceeded to shake the knob violently. After a few moments without success, he released the door with a sigh, scrunching his nose cutely as he stepped back and looked up at the building in search of another way in.

"Alright, maybe there's like a, uh.. Like, a window we can climb through," He suggested as Scott wrapped his own fingers around the doorknob, "Or some kind of-"

There was a sudden crunch of bending metal followed by a loud creak as Scott pulled the door open. He dropped the torn off doorknob into Amber's hand and she snorted in amusement, shaking her head as she handed the disfigured piece of metal off to her boyfriend.

"-Handle that we could rip off with supernatural strength." Stiles finished lamely, "How'd I not think of that one?" He asked in disbelief as Amber tugged him through the doorway and into the building.

The music from the speakers pounded loudly inside, bass thrumming with heavy vibrations that Amber could feel nearly rattling the bones in her body. The large space was dark aside from the strobe lights that flashed at random intervals, the stop and go of the blinking lights making it difficult to make out distinct faces in the crowd.

The moment they'd stepped inside, there were bodies bumping against them as people crowded together in the dark space, club-goers moving around in tight proximity, pressing close and grinding together sensually to the thumping beat of the music. The clubgoers dancing against one another seemed to be almost exclusively same sex couples and it only took Amber approximately two seconds from the moment they stepped inside to realize that Jungle wasn't just a night club, it was a gay night club.

Two girls trading kisses between distracted steps bumped Amber's shoulder as they headed to the hallway toward the restrooms, shooting her a halfhearted apology before one of the girls grabbed the ass of the other and they both giggled and disappeared in the dark.

"Dude!" Scott yelled over the music after a few moments, "Everyone here is either a dude, or a girl making out with another girl!" He observed slowly, "I think we're in a gay club!"

"Nothing gets past those keen werewolf senses, huh, Scott?" Stiles yelled sarcastically from a few feet away.

Amber turned around to find her boyfriend being doted on by a group of mildly intoxicated, but beautifully done up drag queens, one of them stroking a finger along Stiles' sharp cheekbone admiringly.

"He's pretty cute isn't he?" Amber asked the women sweetly, pulling Stiles out of the horde by his arm and giving her boyfriend's cheek a loving pinch.

"Amazing cheekbones, this one," One of the ladies complimented, "If I had cheekbones like that I'd die happy."

Stiles blushed and after only a few more exchanged pleasantries, he pulled Amber away from the group, dragging her in the direction of the bar as she laughed at him. Scott followed only half a step behind them, the warmth of his chest pressed against Amber's back as he tried not to lose his friends in the crowd.

"She was right. You do have amazing cheekbones, y'know-" Amber said loudly over the music.

"Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up, you." Stiles squeezed his hand lightly where it was wrapped around her arm.

As they pushed through the final throng of people that separated them from the bar, Stiles finally released his girlfriend, stepping up to slam both of his hands down on the bartop with enthusiasm.

"Three beers!" Stiles demanded in visible excitement.

The shirtless bartender threw the rag in his hands over his naked shoulder and looked between Scott and Stiles with narrowed eyes, "You two got IDs?"

Both boys scrambled for their wallets and stealthily pulled their fake IDs from the back pockets, handing them over as Amber grimaced with a small shake of her head.

The pathetic slips of paper weren't even laminated.

The bartender raised his eyebrows and shot a small smile at the boys in disbelief, "How 'bout two Cokes for you guys?"

"Rum and Coke?" Stiles asked quickly, "Sure!" At the bartender's unimpressed look, Stiles sighed, "Coke's fine, actually.. I'm driving anyway-"

The bartender slipped away to ring up their order, re-emerging to set one green glass bottle onto the counter and following up immediately with two plastic cups of cola, sliding Scott and Amber's drinks toward them with a grin.

"Those two are paid for." He told them, nodding his head in a gesture to the other side of the bar.

Amber looked over the man's shoulder and saw a boy lifting his drink in salute to Scott and a very pretty girl with short hair grinning at Amber just a little further down. Amber took her bottle with a shy smile of thanks before she turned to face Scott who was grinning bashfully, and her boyfriend who was wearing a deep scowl.

"Oh, shut up. Both of you." Stiles snapped before either one of them could even speak.

"We didn't say anything." Scott defended as he grabbed his drink.

"Yeah, well, your faces did." Stiles huffed, dropping a few bills on the bar-top before slipping the tiny cocktail straw in his drink between his lips and taking an angry sip.

"I told you not to wear the hoodie," Amber pointed out with a shrug, bringing the bottle to her lips and taking a tentative sip of the cold beverage. She swallowed the bitter liquid, frowning as she examined the bottle in her hands, "..I'm not sure I like beer." She admitted.

"Just be grateful you got one." Stiles muttered grimly, taking another long sip from his Coke.

Amber leaned in to redirect the tiny straw in his fingers to her own lips and pulled in a long sip of the carbonated sweetness to wash down the lingering traces of beer. She abandoned her bottle on the bar behind them without an ounce of regret, wiping the cool drops of lingering condensation from her hand as she rubbed her palm over her jeans.

Stiles moved to drape himself over her back, bicep slung over her shoulder as he held his drink where they could both easily reach the straw. They stood watch beside the bar and scanned the crowd on the dancefloor through the flashing lights for a couple of minutes in search.

"Hey, I found Danny." Stiles announced suddenly over the loud music, bright lights flashing over his features as he pulled back to leave his cup behind them on the bar.

"I found Jackson." Scott countered, his eyes glued to the rafters along the ceiling.

Amber's eyes snapped up to the industrial metal beams above the dancefloor, heart pounding nervously when she just made out Jackson's scaly, more terrifying form moving in calculated steps with its attention glued to his friend on the dancefloor.

"Guys. Get Danny." Scott told them without looking away from the creature.

"What're you gonna do?" Amber questioned worriedly, eyes flicking between her best friend and the kanima quickly.

Scott held his hands out at his sides wordlessly and claws suddenly emerged, sharp pointed nails sprouting from his fingertips.

"Works for me." Stiles acknowledged, grabbing Amber's shoulder and pushing her in the direction of the dancefloor.

One of her hands held a firm grip on the hood of her boyfriend's sweatshirt as they pushed through the throng of grinding bodies, mumbling apologies as they turned this way and that to slip through the narrow spaces between couples. Her eyes caught on Danny once again as a group parted and she waved a hand above her head in an attempt to get his attention.

"Danny!" She yelled over the loud thumping of the music.

There were hands suddenly on her waist, fingers pressing into the strip of bare skin on her stomach as someone plastered themselves to her back. Hot breath fanned out over her ear and her hand slipped from Stiles' sweatshirt when she flinched in surprise, watching hopelessly as he immediately disappeared in the crowd.

"Someone named Danny ignoring you?" A deep voice asked.

Amber's fingers grappled at the hands on her waist and they loosened their grip easily, releasing her as she spun around to face an attractive man with light hair. She blinked in surprise and took a small step back.

"I thought this was a gay club." She stated over the loud music, her body being nudged forward into the man's chest when someone bumped into her from behind as they danced.

"I'm bi," The guy told her, shouting in an attempt to be heard over the noise of the club, "Heard you calling out for Danny and thought you might be too-"

"Oh! I, uh-"

The stranger looked out at the crowd before focusing on her again, "Oh! Wow. Shit- Is Danny a girl? Like, Danielle?"

"I- Sorry! Sorry, I actually really gotta go-" Amber apologized awkwardly, cutting the conversation short and stepping back as a heavy cloud of fog fell from the ceiling and cascaded down onto the dancefloor.

As she began to push through the crowd again, it was significantly more difficult to see than it had been only a few moments before. The fog from the machines above them was thick and the flashing lights seemed to make things more blurry as they reflected against the clouds in the air.

"Stiles?" She yelled over the music, "Danny!" She called out again uselessly.

A scream sounded out over the bass-heavy music and she pushed her way through the crowd more frantically. There was a familiar red glow just a few yards away, two bright beacons cutting through the dark that prompted Amber to shove her way through the bodies with more vigor. She scrambled to get to where she could just barely make out Derek's glowing eyes through the thick gray clouds of fog.

She pushed through just as Derek swiped a clawed hand through the darkness and scratched a deep gash across the kanima's throat. A yelp of surprise spilled past her lips as her hands flew up to cover her mouth, watching with wide eyes as Derek took ahold of the scaly creature and moved toward the back door that was positioned only a few feet away at the edge of the dancefloor.

"Derek!" She called out, stomach tossing and turning with nausea as she trailed behind and pushed out the doors into the alleyway with a crash, "What did you do!" Amber yelled after him in panic, her feet carrying her in the direction she'd seen him vanish as he'd headed toward the parking lot, "Did you- You killed-?"

She blinked in confusion, twisting around in slow turns as she looked for any sign of Derek, only to come up empty — The werewolf was gone. Her eyes fell to where Derek had dropped the creature to the pavement uncaringly, her heart pounding painfully in her chest as she looked down at the bloody creature who'd been left for dead.

In the light of the parking lot behind the building, she could see that Jackson was already beginning to return to normal; scales slowly fading into smooth skin and bulky frame shifting back into a smaller teenage body. It only took a minute for the shift to fully take effect and then Jackson was naked and unconscious, his pale human skin marred a deep crimson with the blood from the gash in his throat.

She fell to her knees beside the boy as soon as he'd returned to normal, her shaking hands hovering in hesitation over his bloody chest as she debated what to do. The cut along his throat already appeared slightly smaller than it had only moments before and she watched in relief as Jackson's chest rose and fell with slow breaths.

The sound of running footsteps approaching had her head snapping up to find Scott rounding a parked car and skidding to a stop a few feet away from where Amber was knelt beside Jackson's naked, blood soaked body. He blinked at the scene in front of him in surprise and Amber leaned back to sit on her heels with a shaky breath.

"I- We need to clean all the blood off so we can make sure he's healing-" She told him weakly, eyes flicking back down to Jackson's bloody throat again.

Scott merely blinked again and there were suddenly another set of footfalls running through the parking lot. Amber looked around the parked cars worriedly but it was Stiles who came into view next, the look of shock on his face closely resembling Scott's.

"Guys, c'mon, seriously-" She urged when neither one of them moved nor said anything.

With a collective flinch, the boys both jumped into action all at once. Stiles rushed over to help Amber to her feet while Scott grabbed ahold of Jackson's hands, already beginning to drag him across the pavement in the direction of the Jeep.

"You're gonna scrape up his back-" She started to protest, taking an immediate step toward Scott.

"He'll heal, Amber." Scott reminded her as he pulled Jackson around to the trunk of the vehicle.

"Right," She shook her head, "You're right."

The moment Stiles had tugged open the door to the trunk, Amber was digging around in search. She located a couple bottles of water, unscrewing the cap from one and immediately beginning to pour it over Jackson's neck and shoulders. The blood and water mixed together to rinse away in a cloudy stream down his body, revealing the smooth, clean skin of Jackson's throat.

"I gotta say.." Stiles began suddenly, casting a sidelong glance back toward his girlfriend as he dug around in the back of the vehicle, "Not loving how close you are to Jackson's naked junk right now." He admitted as he emerged with the thick wool blanket that they kept in the trunk for picnics and camping trips.

"Dude." Scott deadpanned in disbelief, already helping Amber rinse Jackson off with the second bottle of water.

Amber wiped at a stubborn patch of drying blood from Jackson's neck beneath the stream and shook her head at her boyfriend, "Yeah, now's not an ideal time for jealousy, Sti."

"Yeah, alright, point taken." He conceded weakly.

Amber reached out to take the blanket but Stiles refused to hand it over, moving forward instead to carelessly wrap it around Jackson's naked body himself. Once Jackson was covered, Scott stepped forward and scooped the unconscious boy up with ease, moving around the side of the Jeep to lay him down in the backseat.

Amber wiped her hands off with a napkin from the glove compartment as she sat down in the front seat and Scott and Stiles piled into the vehicle only a second behind her. They pulled around the building and parked at the front instead so they could watch as the paramedics began to wheel paralyzed clubgoers outside.

As soon as they spotted Danny being carried out on a stretcher, Scott was climbing stealthily from the Jeep and Amber couldn't hold back a sigh.

"Jesus. How many people did Jackson attack in there?" She asked in distress, looking between the boy in the backseat and the doors of the building where there seemed to be an endless train of stretchers rolling out of the doors.

"I'm not sure," Stiles mumbled, "A lot."

His fingers were drumming against the steering wheel in a quick rhythm, the quiet thudthudthud of his hand coming down again and again in an agitated beat. Amber watched the anxious tick for a long minute before placing a hand on his thigh and giving it a soft squeeze.

"What is it?" She asked quietly.

"We shouldn't still be here," Stiles said with a shake of his head, "Scott needs to hurry up."

"Maybe you should just get a more inconspicuous car," Amber suggested, eyeing the bright blue paint on the Jeep's hood before her eyes flicked back to meet her boyfriend's unimpressed glare, "-Or not."

It was only another couple of seconds before the passenger door was being wrenched open again with a creak as Scott climbed back inside the Jeep. Amber and Stiles both turned toward him expectantly and Scott frowned under the weight of their gazes.

"I couldn't get anything out of Danny." Scott announced.

"Okay, can we just get the hell out of here now before one of my dad's deputies sees me?" Stiles asked frantically.

He spun around in his seat to turn the key in the ignition, but the engine merely ground weakly as it struggled to turn over. A short blare of a siren rang out above the noise of the Jeep's struggle as another police vehicle hurtled into the parking lot in front of them. They all watched wide-eyed as Stiles' father's Sheriff's cruiser came to a stop just a few yards away.

"Oh my god. Oh my god! Could this get any worse?" Stiles yelled in panic.

A weak groan sounded from the backseat as Jackson shifted beneath the blanket with his eyes still closed and they all spun around to look at the boy in surprise.

"That was rhetorical!" Stiles snapped at Jackson's sleeping body.

The three friends sitting in the front spun to look back out the windshield again in distress as the lights on the Sheriff's cruiser continued to flash at them almost tauntingly.

"Get rid of him!" Scott told Stiles in a rush.

"Get rid of him!?" Stiles repeated just a bit too loudly, "We're at a crime scene and he's the Sheriff-"

"He- He's not just gonna leave-" Amber told Scott obviously.

Scott shuffled in his seat and gestured to the police vehicle in front of them again with wild movements of his hands, "I- Do something!" He amended.

Stiles' face pinched up like he wanted to say something else but instead opted to flail his arms at them in silent frustration before throwing the driver's side door open and falling out of the car in a mess of limbs. The door slammed shut behind him and Amber watched intently as Stiles and his father approach one another but her attention was torn away when Jackson sat up in the backseat.

"What's.. What's hap-"

"Shh. Back to sleep," Amber cut off his weak questions, pressing a hand to Jackson's chest and urging him gently to lay back down, "I'm gonna go help Stiles." She announced, not waiting for a response from Scott before she was tumbling out of the vehicle after her boyfriend.

"Wha'd'you mean what am I doing here?" Stiles asked his dad, "What? It's a club! It's a club. We were clubbing, y'know?" He explained as his girlfriend stepped up beside him, "At.. At the club.."

He dropped an arm around Amber's bare shoulders as he spoke and his father eyed the unconscious gesture obviously, giving the two of them a knowing look.

"Not exactly your type of club." Sheriff Stilinski stated, raising his eyebrows deliberately at his son.

Stiles blinked in realization and took a small step away from her as he dropped his arm, hands coming together in front of himself in a display of nerves.

"Uh. Well, dad," He started slowly, "There's a conversation that we-"

"You're not gay." Sheriff Stilinski interrupted blankly.

"W- I could be!" Stiles was quick to defend.

"Dressed like that?" His father asked judgmentally as he assessed his son's outfit.

Stiles balked, "Wh-"

"Told you." Amber muttered under her breath just soft enough that only Stiles could make out her words, masking the quiet comment with a cough.

He frowned petulantly, looking between his father and his girlfriend, "I-"

The Sheriff's eyes drifted over to Amber with an unimpressed look before moving back over to his son, "Not to mention you have a girlfriend."

"Open relationships and polyamory are actually a lot more common than you think-" She supplied, finally inserting herself in the conversation, "Not to mention bisexuality. Or bi-curiousity. And then there's pansexuality, which there's a lot of debate about, but I think it's honestly kind of just ano-"

Sheriff Stilinski seemed entirely uninterested in her rambling and he shook his head as he took a small step to move past them in the direction of the parked Jeep. Stiles and Amber both jumped, frantically moving to block his path again as the Sheriff narrowed his eyes at them reproachfully.

"This is the second crime scene the two of you just happen to have shown up on this week," He scolded them seriously. Amber shrunk back slightly and Stiles opened his mouth to say something but was cut off when his father continued, "At this point, I've been fed so many lies, I'm not sure I know the kids standing in front of me," He snapped, voice raising as he looked between them critically, "Now, what the hell is going on!"

There was a soft thump from inside the Jeep and they all looked over at the sound to find Scott waving with an innocent smile.

Stiles looked back to his father again with wide eyes, "W- Dad, I- I just-"

"The truth, Stiles." The Sheriff snapped harshly.

"The truth.. Alright," Stiles sighed, "The truth is-"

"We were here with Danny." Amber announced, the words falling from her lips as casually as she could manage.

"Yeah," Stiles agreed without a moment's hesitation, quick to add supporting evidence to her lie, "He just broke up with his boyfriend, so, y'know. We were just trying to take him out and get his mind off things. That- That's it."

Sheriff Stilinski looked between the two teens consideringly, studying them for hints of deception for a moment before his mouth pulled back into a small frown with a slow nod of his head.

"Well that's really good of you guys," The Sheriff sighed in contrition, "You're good friends."

There compliment put a grin on Stiles' face and he slapped a hand against his father's bicep before taking a small step back, pulling Amber back toward the Jeep with him.

"Hey," The Sheriff called out just as they'd started to turn away. The couple spun back around nervously and the man nodded his head at Amber, frowning as he eyed the amount of skin she had showing, "Put a sweatshirt or something on, will you? It's fifty degrees. You'll catch a cold."

Amber fought to hold in a sigh of relief, "Will do!"

With a shake of his head, he turned away from them, walking in the opposite direction of the Jeep as they climbed back inside. Stiles was turning the key in the ignition before he'd even pulled the door shut behind him and he was speeding out of the parking lot the moment the Jeep rumbled to life beneath them.

As if on cue, Jackson let out another quiet groan from the backseat and Amber made a soft noise of distress herself in response.

"What are we gonna do with him?" She asked, looking at Scott frantically.

"I don't know!" Scott worried, "Why do you always expect me to have the answers?"

"Maybe because you're the werewolf-" She defended.

"Okay, uh, what about your house?" Stiles suggested as a way of ending the argument before it could really start, nudging Amber with his shoulder.

"Jason is getting off a twenty-six hour shift-" She paused, pulling Stiles' wrist toward herself and pushing his sleeve up just enough to check the time on his watch, "-An hour ago. He's already home."

"Alright, what about Scott's house?" Stiles asked, looking across the car at the other boy in question.

"Not happening. My mom's there," Scott disapproved immediately, "We- We need to take him somewhere that we can hold him long enough to figure out what to do with him."

"Or long enough to convince him he's dangerous." Amber added, peeking over her shoulder to ensure that Jackson was still asleep.

"I still say we just kill him." Stiles admitted with a wince, tensing as he braced himself for the hit he already knew was coming from the girl beside him.

"Cut that out." She snapped as she delivered a punch to his bicep, "We're not killing anyone."

"Gah! F- Okay, okay!" Stiles surrendered, rubbing his arm with a pout for only a moment before his mouth dropped open with a slow blink. A thought had suddenly popped into his brain, his eyes flicking over the road unseeingly as he got lost in his own head.

"What?" Amber questioned immediately upon recognizing the look on his face.

"I got an idea." He announced, eyes still bouncing around distractedly in thought.

She studied her boyfriend with a frown, "Does it involve breaking the law?" She questioned weakly.

"By now don't you think that's a given?" Stiles responded without actually answering her.

Amber sighed, "Just trying to be optimistic." She muttered as she turned forward in her seat.

"Yeah, don't bother." Stiles told her, reaching over to squeeze her knee.

She and Scott shared a look of commiseration, twin frowns on their faces as Stiles sped toward their new destination.

Amber blew out a warm puff of air, directing the heat into her cupped palms before adjusting the large sleeves of Stiles' borrowed flannel over her cold hands. Her anxious gaze jumped between her two best friends as she shuffled her boots nervously in the dead leaves beneath their feet.

"Okay. So, Scott and I will leave in a few minutes and you'll stay here to keep an eye on Jackson," Amber began to recite their plan once more, her attention focused on Stiles as he leaned back against a tree and nodded in agreement, "I'll drive back out during free period to bring a change of clothes for you and something for you both to eat. You keep checking Jackson's cell phone in case anyone tries to get a hold of him. Um. Just, hang tight and one of us will call you if anything comes up." She promised anxiously.

"Babe, he's not even awake yet. I'll be fine," Stiles attempted to reassure her, "I mean, how hard is it to stand guard of an unconscious asshole handcuffed in the back of a prison transport van?"

As if on cue, Jackson began to yell from inside of the van parked a few yards away, signaling that he had finally awoken.

"Stiles! McCall! I'm gonna kill you!" His angry shouting was muffled slightly by the thick reinforced walls of the armored vehicle.

With a collective wince, the three leapt into action. Stiles took a small step forward and brought his lips to Amber's forehead in a quick goodbye before Scott was leading her through the trees in the direction of her house.

After fifteen minutes of silence, Amber finally voiced the question she'd been ruminating on throughout the hike, stepping carefully over a fallen branch as she spoke, "Y'think I should be offended or relieved that Jackson didn't even mention me?"

"Relieved, probably." Scott answered easily.

She nodded in response, sighing happily as she finally followed Scott's steps through the treeline and into her own backyard.

"Oh, thank god." She exclaimed in relief, "I feel disgusting. I want to-"

"You don't have time to shower." Scott interrupted knowingly, "We have enough time to grab your car and that's it."

"What?" She whined, looking down at her clothes from the day before and the oversized checkered shirt she had buttoned over the top, "But-"

"Don't you keep a change of clothes in your gym locker?" Scott questioned.

"No-?" She narrowed her eyes at her best friend, "Oh.. My god. You have a change of clothes at school? You're going to be able to change and I'm not?"

"Dude. We need to be on time for first period if we don't want anything to look suspicious," Scott reminded her, "And it's already-" He checked the time on his phone, "Shit. It's already seven forty-five!"

"Shit!" She reiterated, running with him toward the house where they grabbed her keys and climbed into the Pacer in a rush.

Her eyes flicked to the analog clock on the dash as she moved her feet over the pedals and shifted gears, speeding down the road toward town. They had thirteen minutes.

She whipped into a parking spot at the front of the building with two minutes to get to their first class, which was a miracle in itself considering she'd managed to turn the normally fifteen minute drive to the school into an eleven minute one.

They dashed through the building in what was nearly run and Amber found herself fumbling to put in the combination to her locker correctly so that she could pull out her things.

She'd gotten zero hours of sleep, not a single one of her homework assignments was completed, her boyfriend was babysitting a kidnapped kanima slash pain in the ass, her phone was down to forty-six percent battery, and based on the slew of texts she'd received over the last twelve hours — there was a pretty good chance that Lydia was going to kill her.

She could already tell that it was going to be a rough day.

The trilling of the phone on Mrs. Patterson's desk was startlingly loud when it rang out in the middle of their Algebra II lesson that afternoon and the teacher jumped in surprise, laughing at herself as she placed her marker down beneath the whiteboard and turned to pick up the receiver. Her eyes flicked to where Amber was sitting for a moment as she conversed with someone, giving verbal affirmation to the person on the other line with a small nod.

Amber's heart was pounding nervously in her chest as the older woman hung up the phone, nodding toward the girl and moving back over to the board at the front of the room.

"Amber, you're needed in the office, dear." Mrs. Patterson told her, "I'm not sure how long it'll be, so just take your things with you, just in case."

"I- Um, okay." She stuttered in surprise, gathering her books into her arms and leaving the room in an anxious blur of movements.

Her mind was racing with the possible reasons for being called down to the office. She thought of Stiles, alone in the preserve with Jackson, and she swallowed nervously as she stepped into the main office. The secretary's desk was deserted when she arrived and she looked around in confusion for only a moment before the door to the principal's office was swinging open behind her.

She flinched as she spun around, finding Gerard Argent smiling at her in what she figured he'd intended to look like faux kindness, but in reality only succeeded in making her feel more queasy.

"Miss Callisto," He greeted slowly, "If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to have a quick word with you in my office."

She swallowed. Her hands tightened around her books for a moment and the old man's eyes seemed to catalogue the movement, his grin pulling up on one side as he took in her visible nerves.

"No need to panic, you're not in trouble," He joked, "I just have a couple of questions for you."

She laughed shakily and fought to calm herself, forcing the three day old image of Scott, covered in his own blood from his encounter with the old man, out of her mind as she stepped toward Gerard.

"Yeah. Yeah, of course, Principal Argent."

She dropped her books into the chair in the corner of his office and settled into the seat across from the large desk, watching with a small wave of relief as the old man rounded the wooden surface to settle into his own chair, the desk serving as a barrier between them.

"I hear you're going to be studying with my granddaughter this afternoon." Gerard prompted slowly, studying her with a grin that she found uncomfortably menacing.

"Um, yeah," Amber agreed immediately, licking her lips as she quickly tried to think of something to support the lie, "History," She supplied, "The midterm is next week, so.."

"History.." Gerard repeated, the slowness of his drawl made Amber nervous for half a second, worried that she'd said something wrong, but then he was nodding his head and continuing, "One of my favorites.. Especially military history."

"I, um, I don't know a lot about military history, to be honest," Amber told him, "We cover a lot of World War Two and the Civil War but, um, not much else. We don't really.. Delve into it."

"Hm," He hummed with a frown, "You ever hear the phrase, 'know thy enemy'?"

Her heart stuttered nervously, "Um, yeah, I think I've heard that before."

"It's from The Art Of War by Sun Tzu," Gerard explained slowly, "Do you know what it means?" He questioned, raising his eyebrows and deepening the wrinkles in his forehead.

"I, uh.. You have to really know your enemy to beat them," She answered cautiously, "Inside and out. All their nuances and weaknesses and such."

"That's right," He nodded, "I think it's safe to say, you and I both know I'm having that very problem.. An enemy about which I know next to nothing. And it's killed one of my own. Among others."

"Yeah, I've heard," She responded after a moment, "Um, I'm sorry for your loss."

The old man hummed noncommittally again, "Did you hear Jackson Whittemore didn't show up to school today?"

Amber blinked, "Um, no. I didn't hear that."

"His parents called and so did the police," Gerard revealed, watching her reaction closely, "Your friend Mr. Stilinski is absent today as well. Isn't that an interesting coincidence?"

"It is a coincidence," She agreed easily, "Stiles called me this morning to let me know he wasn't feeling well. He usually gives me a ride to school but today I had to drive myself."

"And Mr. Whittemore, you wouldn't know anything about his absence, would you?"

An innocent pout sat on her lips as she shook her head in denial.

"Well, let me tell you what I know," Gerard started slowly, "I know that a teenager's first instinct is to protect their friends-" He pushed up from his chair and began to move around the desk toward her, his steps agonizingly slow, "And I believe that you, Miss Callisto, would always want to protect your friends, even if it meant lying."

The old man came to stand at her back and rested his hands lightly over her shoulders atop her flannel as he continued on.

"-So, I want to ask one more question, and this time with a small advantage."

She glanced down at Gerard's large hands and her jaw clenched uncomfortably when the old man delicately pulled her hair back until it hung behind her shoulders. She let out a slow breath through her nose and the muscles in her thigh ticked with the impulse to run.

He squeezed her shoulders beneath his hands and she took her lower lip between her teeth painfully as she felt one of his hands slide to cup the base of her neck, the other pressing two fingers firmly against the side of her throat, and Scott's warnings suddenly rung in her head, his voice echoing in her ears.

"Be careful."

"Allison's grandfather is dangerous."

"If he corners you or Stiles, you run, alright? I can't have you getting hurt."

Amber moved to stand from her chair in a rush but was push to sit back down abruptly, wrinkled hands settling back on her shoulders with a firm grip.

"I'm not going to hurt you," The old man promised, his hands retaking in the mildly threatening position they'd been in only moments before, "I just want to get a sense of your pulse. Think of it as a game-"

Before she could think better of it, Amber was speaking breathlessly, "I'm not sure what kind of games they had back in your day, but nowadays-"

"It'll be a quick one," He promised with a low chuckle, "All you have to do is tell the truth."

She huffed out a frustrated breath but nodded in complacency, swallowing loudly against his fingers in preparation.

"Do you know anything about Jackson being missing?"

"No." She said easily, moving to stand from her seat only to be yanked back down again.

"Is he in trouble?" Gerard followed up immediately, the pads of his fingertips pressing back into the hollow of her throat.

"No," She repeated firmly, "And that's more than one question."

"Does this have anything to do with my granddaughter?"

"No." She snapped.

"Does it have anything to do with your friend Scott?"

Amber blinked, slightly caught off guard, "No."

There was a brief moment of silence in which Amber grew slightly more nervous and significantly more angry.

"Your pulse jumped." Gerard told her, his raspy voice much too close to her ear to be comfortable.

His hands were knocked away as threw herself up and out of the chair, "Because this is crazy!" She snapped, spinning around to face him with shaking hands, "It's inappropriate and ridiculous. I mean, what-"

"I'm sorry, dear," Gerard told her in feigned surprise, hands coming up in a show of surrender, "I didn't mean to frighten you."

"I'm not." She quickly denied, "I'm not frightened."

Gerard's eyebrows rose with clear condescension, as if he didn't believe her in the slightest, "No?"

"No." She reiterated, shaking out the sleeves of her borrowed shirt until they fell to cover her hands. She moved them behind her back in an attempt to hide the way her fingers had began to tremble.

"Well, good then," Gerard turned to open the door to his office, stepping aside in a gesture that she was free to leave, "You may go. Thank you, for humoring an old man." He chuckled.

She grabbed her books from the chair against the wall in a rush and made to leave. Just as she was about to step over the threshold, Gerard stuck an arm out in front of her with an eerie smile etched onto his face.

"Ah. Just one more thing, Miss Callisto," He said when she paused abruptly behind his blockade, "Might I suggest you try to stay out of trouble.. A pretty young lady such as yourself really should really keep her focus on-" His eyes narrowed as he paused to choose his words carefully, "Less dangerous affairs."

Her lips pulled into a tight line but she gave him a small nod, taking a tentative step forward and barely holding back a sigh of relief when Gerard dropped his arm and allowed her to pass.

The moment she was out of the main office, she was rushing down the hallway toward her locker with quick steps, throwing her books inside and pulling her phone from her pocket with still-trembling fingers. She clicked on Stiles' contact and brought the phone up to her ear but instead being greeted by the familiar dull ringing, it went immediately through to his voicemail box.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," She hissed, clicking his contact a second time and bringing the phone up to her ear once again, "C'mon, Sti-"

"Yo, it's Stiles! Leave me a mes-"

She swore again and shoved her phone back into her pocket, looking at the clock hanging in the hallway in contemplation for a few seconds before slamming her locker shut with a curse and taking off in the direction of the rear parking lot.

Once she reached the treeline, she paused for a moment and took a steadying breath. The fastest way into the preserve was through the woods in front of her. If she ran, she could most likely make it to where they'd parked the transport van in less than five minutes — As long as she didn't take a wrong turn somewhere and get lost along the way.

Easy.

She took off in a sprint, racing through the trees and pushing her legs as fast as they could go while trying not to trip over the numerous rocks and tree roots that jutted up from the uneven ground. The incline was brutal and her boots weren't ideal for running but as she finally came up the final stretch of the hill, she spotted the bright white of the van in the distance. The brown lettering on the side of the vehicle contrasted starkly against the clean paint and she found herself pushing her legs that much harder.

Stiles had taken up post on the ground, back resting against the trunk of a tree as he used one of the many keys on his keychain to carve mindlessly at the large stick in his hands in boredom. His head snapped up suddenly at the sound of her running footsteps and he abandoned his stick to scramble to his feet clumsily.

"Hey, what-" He caught Amber by her arms when her feet skidded in the leaves in front of him in an attempt to come to a sudden stop, looking at her with surprised eyes as she panted heavily, "Woah. What's wrong? What happened?"

"Didn't- Didn't answer- Your phone." She scolded between deep lungfuls of air.

"It-It died like an hour ago-" Stiles told her apologetically, "Why what's wrong?"

"They.. Know." She gasped between breaths, steadying herself with her hands on his chest.

"Who knows what?" Stiles asked, pushing a slightly sweaty lock of her wild hair out of her face and securing it behind her ear.

"They know. Know Jackson's missing-" She explained as she tried to catch her breath.

"What?" Stiles said in confusion, "No, they can't. I've been texting his parents since last night. They don't have a clue."

He pulled Jackson's phone from the pocket of his sweatshirt to show her the series of messages he'd sent to Jackson's father as evidence. Amber grabbed his hands to steady the screen as her eyes skimmed the texts.

"No," She shook her head with wide eyes, "Allison's grandfather just pulled me from class to ask me all these questions, alright? It was practically an interrogation. And he- He said that Jackson's parents went to the police-"

Her words seemed to finally get through to him and Stiles' eyes widened, holding Jackson's phone loosely in his fingers as if the device were carrying some contagious disease.

"-They know." She finished.

Stiles made a noise of distress and pawned off the cell phone as he ran to the front of the stolen van, wrenching the passenger side door open and reaching over to click the dispatch radio on.

"All units, please proceed to Beacon Hills Preserve as instructed. Proceed with caution until Sheriff Stilinski's arrival. Repeat: Proceed with caution."

Another panicked squeak left Stiles' throat and Amber was already looking at him with wide eyes when he spun around to face her.

"What do we do?" She asked in a rush.

"We get far, far away from here-" Stiles told her, already rounding the vehicle and climbing behind the wheel.

She jumped into the passenger seat and her wide eyes fell to the phone in her hands, "What about his phone?"

Stiles blinked and froze where he had already begun to shift the vehicle into drive, as if he'd forgotten about the device already. He took it from her limp grip and tapped at the screen rapidly, clicking the contact labeled "Mom" before wiping the phone down with the sleeve of his sweatshirt and throwing it out the window just as it began to ring through.

"Okay.. Okay, and where are we going?" Amber questioned as the tires of the vehicle crunched along the forest floor.

"No idea." Stiles told her honestly.

"They were tracking his phone, right?" She questioned, "That's how they know where he is?"

"Yup."

"Okay," She licked her lips, face scrunching up in thought, "Okay, let's go to the lookout."

Stiles flicked his eyes over to her briefly in confusion as he drove the large van through a narrow patch of trees.

"-It's at the opposite end of the preserve," She explained immediately, "They won't have manpower to spread their search that far out from his phone's location. Not for hours-"

"You make a really hot criminal, y'know that?" His gaze momentarily drifted back over to her again, "You're freakishly good at it."

"I'm not so sure my skills at being a criminal are something I'm necessarily proud of." She noted with a wince.

"A hot criminal." Stiles corrected immediately.

She reached across the car to rub her thumb softly along the side of his neck, shaking her head fondly as she watched him smoothly maneuver the rough terrain through the preserve.

"Yeah, whatever. Just get us outta here, Clyde."

Later that afternoon, the nightclub victims from the previous evening – all of whom were blessedly alive – were only just beginning to be discharged from Beacon Hills Hospital after being subjected to a whole slew of tests and blood work as doctors and police struggled to figure out exactly what had happened.

Amber and Scott had finally managed to locate Danny's hospital room just as the boy was starting to collect his things and readying himself to head home.

"You're sure everything's okay between you and Jackson?" Amber questioned Danny disbelievingly once more.

"Yeah, everything's fine," Danny repeated, looking between her and Scott in confusion for a moment before rifling through his wallet with a frown, "Did the cops have to take my fake ID?" He bemoaned with a dejected sigh.

"You didn't do anything to make him angry?" Scott was quick to follow up.

Danny furrowed his brows, "How angry?"

"On a scale of one to ten, one being kind of irritated and ten wanting to kill you.. Violently." Scott elaborated.

Danny merely shrugged, "Jackson's always kind of at a four-"

Amber snorted.

"-But we're good." He promised, "I was actually doing him a favor."

At this, Amber's posture straightened and she uncrossed her arms from over her chest as she perked up in interest, "What kind of favor?"

"I was recovering a video for him. I put it on my tablet," He explained before pausing in realization, "-Which is in the trunk of my car.. And probably still at the club.."

"What was on the video?" Scott asked before Amber could voice the very same question.

Danny frowned, "I'm not really supposed to say."

"Danny, c'mon, this is important." Amber insisted.

He continued to frown and Scott sighed, "What if we told you this could be a matter of life and death?" Scott tried.

"..I'm not supposed to say." Danny repeated slowly.

Amber scrunched her nose up in irritation and tapped her foot against the floor distractedly, "What if I told you we can get you your fake ID back?"

Danny blinked, hesitating and clearly on the cusp of caving in.

"C'mon, Danny.. Good fakes don't come cheap-" She goaded gently.

He sighed, eyes flicking between them with a put out look upon his face, "Alright, fine. It was just some video he took of himself in bed, okay? I promised I wouldn't watch it and I didn't. Whether he was sleeping, jerking off, whatever, I don't know. I just know he filmed it a couple weeks ago-"

"A couple weeks ago, like, maybe say.. Fifteen days ago, a couple weeks ago?" Amber pressed quickly, wide eyes flicking to Scott for a moment before refocusing on Danny.

The boy shrugged, "Yeah, I guess, sometime around then. He borrowed a video camera from Matt and like two hours of the footage got mysteriously erased."

"But you recovered the footage?" Scott questioned.

"Yeah. Like I said, it's on my tablet," Danny told them, sounding slightly exasperated, "You guys better have been serious about getting my ID back because Jackson's gonna kill me if he finds out I told you anything."

Amber winced at his choice of words but nodded nonetheless, "Yeah, totally. We'll get it, I swear."

"But we should get going-" Scott added quickly, pulling Amber's arm and tugging her in the direction of the doorway.

"Thanks, Danny!" She called out over her shoulder.

The two moved down the hallway in the direction of the exit with fast steps, but were forced to stop short at the sight of Scott's mom, the woman blocking their path with raised hands.

"While I think you being here to check on your friend is all sorts of commendable, I've gotta play tough mom right now, even though I'm not very good at it." Ms. McCall said weakly, eyes focused on her son.

Scott looked as if he wanted to argue, eyes drifting to Amber in silent plea before focusing on his mother once again, "Right now?" He asked, not quite able to keep the desperation from creeping into his voice.

"Yes, right now," Scott's mom said firmly, "I just got a call from your principal. You are failing two classes?"

Amber's eyes widened at the information but she attempted to school her face into something slightly less surprised by the time Ms. McCall's gaze drifted over to her.

"I- I know," Scott flicked his eyes over to his friend again as he continued, "And that's why I'm going to study with Amber and Stiles. Right now." He fibbed.

"You are?" Ms. McCall asked skeptically, looking between the two teens.

Amber was already nodding in agreement, leaning her weight onto Scott's shoulder, "Oh, for sure. Stiles and I are gonna get him all studied up. Really pack this brain with knowledge-" She emphasized her words by rapping her knuckles against Scott's head firmly.

Ms. McCall pursed her lips as if she was deciding whether or not to believe the teens before speaking to her son again, "Did you know that if you fail one of your midterms, that they're gonna hold you back?" She asked quietly.

Scott deflated further, "He said that?"

"Argent." Amber grumbled under her breath in distaste.

"All of your friends are gonna be Juniors while you're still a Sophomore," Ms. McCall explained slowly, "Do you understand, Scott? You cannot fail."

"I know." Scott sighed again.

"Okay," His mom slumped in relief at the conversation finally coming to an end, "Thank you."

Amber took Scott's hand in hers gave it a reassuring squeeze as they stepped past his mother and continued in their escape once again.

"We seriously will help you study," Amber promised, "This weekend. All weekend. You're not gonna fail."

He gave her a dejected nod in response, "Thanks," He dropped her hand as they stepped out into the parking lot, "Now, let's go see what's on that video."

"If Jackson doesn't remember being the kanima then he's definitely not gonna remember stealing Danny's tablet." Scott grumbled, rubbing a hand through his hair in frustration as they explained their findings, or lack thereof, in Danny's car to Stiles and Allison.

"Why would he steal the thing if he doesn't even know what's on it?" Stiles questioned in disbelief as they stepped further away from the van and closer to the rocky cliffside of the lookout.

"Maybe he didn't take it," Amber suggested, "I mean, the trunk of Danny's car was definitely broken into, but it looked like someone messed with it, y'know? With tools. Not like it had been torn open with super strength."

Stiles regarded her seriously as he thought over her words, "Then someone else knows what he is." He pointed out.

"That could mean someone is protecting him." Scott realized, looking between them with wide eyes.

"It's like the bestiary says. 'The kanima seeks a friend.' Right?" Allison questioned.

"Okay, hold on-" Stiles cut in, rubbing his palms aggressively over his short hair as he processed the discovery, "So somebody watched Jackson make a video of himself turning into the kanima on the full moon, and then just erases part of it so he wouldn't know-? I mean, who would do that?"

"Somebody who wanted to protect him?" Allison questioned.

"There's something else-" Scott interjected, turning his attention to Stiles, "You said the only thing you found online about the kanima is that it goes after murderers.. What if that's actually true?"

"Well, no, it can't be. It tried to kill all of us, remember?" Stiles shook his head before making a show of taking his girlfriend's hand in his, "Tried to kill me and Amber twice. I don't know about you two but we haven't murdered anybody lately."

"But- But I don't think it was actually trying to kill us," Scott disagreed, turning toward Allison, "Remember, when we were at Isaac's the first time? It just went right by us, didn't it?"

Allison blinked in realization with a small nod, "You're right.. It just ran off."

"-And it didn't try to kill you guys at the mechanic's garage." Scott pointed out.

"No, I- I guess not." Amber frowned in thought.

"Well, yeah, but it tried to kill us and Derek in the pool." Stiles reminded them.

"Did it, though?" Scott questioned, looking between them.

"It would've," Stiles defended immediately, fingers tightening unconsciously around Amber's hand, "It was waiting for us to come out."

"..What if it was trying to keep you in?" Scott asked slowly.

The suggestion drove Amber's wide-eyed gaze to her boyfriend and she watched his jaw drop in disbelief, no sound leaving his mouth for a few slow seconds as he processed.

"Why do I feel so violated all of a sudden?" Stiles shook out his limbs in a full-body shiver, keeping his fingers tangled with Amber's but bringing his arm over her head and wrapping it around her shoulders to draw her closer.

"I- I almost drowned," Amber pointed out, "Twice."

"There's something else going on," Scott told them, "We don't know what it is. We don't know anything about what's going on with Jackson. Or why someone's protecting him-"

"'Know thy enemy.'" Amber quoted quietly, eyebrows drawing together in thought.

"My grandfather said that today." Allison told her.

Amber nodded, "Yeah.. Yeah, he said it to me too."

The four of them got lost in their own heads as each one of them tried to piece things together, a brief silence overtaking the group before Stiles spoke loudly.

"Alright! I've got it!" He exclaimed, "Let's kill Jackson. Problem solved-"

Amber reached her free hand up to pinch the softness of his stomach between her thumb and forefinger, glaring as he winced in pain.

"What did I say about suggesting we kill people?" She whispered seriously.

Stiles rolled his shoulders with a sigh, "To cut it out.. And that we're not gonna do that-"

"He risked his life for us," Scott interrupted, "Against Peter. You remember that?"

"Yes. But what did we just find out?" Stiles asked in irritation, "He got the bite from Derek. It's funny.. How he just got exactly what he wanted by supposedly risking his life for us-" He said, pointing out how utterly ridiculous the sequence of events was, "It's funny!"

"That doesn't mean he deserves to die." Amber told Stiles softly, resting her hand over the spot on his belly she'd just abused below his navel.

"Yeah, it doesn't mean he's not worth saving." Scott added seriously.

Stiles frowned as his gaze flicked between them, "It's always something with him though-"

"He doesn't know what he's doing." Scott defended.

"So what?" Stiles argued immediately.

"So, I didn't either!" Scott bit back.

Stiles frowned, deflating at the truth in his friend's words. A sigh fell from Amber's lips at the reminder of just how little control Scott had only a month before.

"You remember when I almost killed you and Jackson?" Scott asked Allison, turning back to his friends when his girlfriend nodded silently, "Remember when I tried to kill both of you?"

"Yeah, of course we do, Scott." Amber said quietly, voice hardly more than a whisper.

"I had you guys to help me," Scott pointed out, "He has nobody."

"That's his own fault." Stiles was quick to point out.

Amber thumped her head onto her boyfriend's shoulder at the lack of headway they were making with the conversation, pulling at his shirt to get his attention as she spoke softly.

"Look, Jackson's a dick," She agreed with Stiles quietly, "I know that as much as anyone.. But, it doesn't mean we shouldn't still try to help him."

Scott nodded, "If we can save him, we should try."

Stiles huffed, unhappy with his best friends ganging up on him, but eventually rolled his eyes with a shrug, "Yeah, alright. Whatever." He muttered, licking his lips and looking between them, "But if this comes back to bite us in the ass, I reserve the right to tell you both that I frickin' told you so."

"Deal." Amber and Scott both agreed with a shake of their heads.

Amber pushed through her front door in a wave of exhaustion. The only thing she wanted to do was take a shower and get some much-needed sleep, but Lydia was already waiting for her upstairs for what was supposed to be their study date, so she plastered a smile on her face.

"I come bearing flowers!" Amber announced hopefully as she stepped into her bedroom, "-For my amazing, beautiful, intelligent friend who's stuck by my side since we were in diapers.. And who I really hope isn't still furious with me for being weird, and cagey, and totally blowing her off-"

"You're like a lying, groveling, suburban husband," Lydia pointed out, not moving from her place in the middle of the bed, "Trying to beg forgiveness with flowers and apologies that I'm assuming will contain some sort of half-assed excuse that won't actually explain anything."

Amber deflated slightly at the truth in her friend's words.

"Does, um.. Does that mean you don't want the flowers?" She questioned dejectedly, stepping up to the side of the bed.

Lydia glared, "Of course I want the flowers. Don't be stupid," She scoffed, taking the bundle from Amber's hand and studying at them curiously, "Funny.. This is the second time someone's given me flowers in the last twenty-four hours." She commented quietly.

Immediately intrigued, Amber plopped down onto her bed beside the redhead, "Who else gave you flowers?"

Lydia shrugged, "It was just one flower. And I don't know his name."

"Was he cute?" Amber questioned in interest.

The flowers were set down gently onto the bedspread and Lydia narrowed her eyes, "Don't think you're going to be able to just change the subject. Amber.. What the hell is going on?" She demanded sharply.

"I, uh-" Amber swallowed nervously. She'd rehearsed about ten different excuses on her way home, but they'd all suddenly vanished from her brain as she sat in front of her friend, "It's-"

"Can you tell me what happened the other night?" Lydia prompted, continuing her list of questions without pause, "Why Derek Hale was there? Why it seems as if everyone around me is hiding something? How you got that golf ball sized bump on the side of your head?"

Amber found herself slightly stunned by the barrage of questions and she blinked as her fingers came up unthinkingly to the lump on her head — The swelling in the place where Erica had knocked her unconscious had finally gone down, but had been replaced by another bump just a few inches closer to her temple, where Isaac had unkindly bashed her head against the wall during their scuffle the previous evening.

"Hello?" Lydia demanded, snapping her fingers in her friend's face impatiently, "Anything?"

"I, um, I hit my head." She supplied stupidly.

Lydia's face flashed with genuine hurt at the singular, dismissive answer and Amber's heart ached as the redhead frowned at her, "And the rest?" She questioned weakly.

"I- It's not really my place to say anything. It's not.. They're not really my secrets to share." Amber said in a quiet voice.

"You can't even tell me why you and Allison both keep blowing me off?" Lydia asked, "I mean, even tonight! We plan to study and you text me to say you can talk for a few minutes but then you have to run? What is so important that-"

"Look, Lydia, I'm sorry. I really, really am. And I wish I could explain. But I can't. And-" Amber huffed, heart ticking up anxiously in her chest as she eyed her laptop on the desk, "And on top of everything I need to figure out how to translate five pages of a dead language that I didn't even know existed until-"

"What language?" Lydia questioned with a sigh, realizing she wasn't going to get the answers she seeked.

"Fucking Archaic Latin! It's ridicul-"

"I know Archaic Latin." Lydia interrupted casually.

Amber blinked in surprise, stumbling from the bed in her haste to grab her computer and bring it back over to Lydia, "You- You know Archaic Latin?" She repeated frantically, "How- What-"

Lydia shrugged, peering at the computer screen curiously as Amber clicked wildly at the trackpad to pull up the bestiary file, "I got bored with classical Latin." She explained simply.

"Can you- Will you read this for me?" Amber asked quickly, turning the screen around to show her the pages with the kanima illustrations.

Lydia hummed as her eyes scanned the page, "Mmm.. Kanima. A weapon of vengeance.. Is used to carry out the bidding of its master-"

"Wait-" Amber stopped her already, "Repeat that?"

Lydia rolled her eyes and traced her finger along the gibberish on the screen, "Kanima is a weapon of vengeance used to carry out the bidding of its master.'" She paraphrased again.

"Master?" Amber repeated carefully, "You're sure it's master? Because.. Mrs. Morrell's translation was a little rough but I'm pretty sure she said, that word specifically, meant friend."

Lydia shook her head, "She was wrong. It means master."

Amber's mind was racing at the implication. This changed absolutely everything-

"Is that important?" Lydia questioned curiously, wide green eyes attempting to understand Amber's reaction.

"I- Yeah, it is. It really-" Amber slammed her laptop shut and tripped over her own feet as she scrambled from the bed and in the direction of the doorway, "It's really important. Lyds, I- I am so beyond sorry and I love you, and you're amazing, and a freaking genius, but-"

"But you have to run?" Lydia finished disappointedly.

"Yes-" Amber confirmed, rushing back over to the bed and pressing a kiss into Lydia's perfect hair before hurrying back toward the door, arms flailing as she ran around the doorway, "I'm sorry! I swear I will make it up to you!"

"You'd better!" Lydia's voice called out.

Tripping over her own feet, Amber stumbled down the hall, movements clumsy with her haste to get back to Scott and Stiles to tell them what she'd learned.

Someone was controlling Jackson.

#selenophiles #stiles fanfiction #stiles stilinski x oc #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #teen wolf fic #stilesfanfiction #stiles imagine #2x06 #*

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some-pers0n · 1 year

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Look, I'm not the type to bash character headcanons. I think they're great and wonderful. Hell, I headcanon most of the characters as being LGBTQ+ or neurodivergent in some way.

But,,,, Sky feels...different.

A popular headcanon I see is Sky being autistic and or aro/ace. I'm sorry but I just...can't see that being a thing without it being steeped in so many stereotypes for both parties.

Sky in general is just a terrible character to headcanon imo. He's an adult who acts like a toddler and feels like he was written in because Tui has a weird thing for baby characters. (Seriously though, I don't get what it is with Tui lately and just writing so many childish characters.) He is immature and is overall written to be like a toddler as opposed to a fully-grown adult. And of course since this is Tui we're talking about, rather than going with the concept of a character detached from the world and raised by a literal child and how they would affect a character, she goes with the: "LOL aren't snails random and funny? YIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIPPPPPPPPPPEEEEEEEE!!!"

I don't really think I have to spell it out. It just feels kind of awkward to headcanon an adult character who behaves like a child to be...autistic. It's already a harmful stereotype of autistic people, where they have child-like innocence and are constantly dependent on others, constantly getting distracted by their hyperfixation and whatnot. Same with him being a-spec. Same stereotype. A-spec people are commonly stereotyped as being immature or oblivious to romance, sex and whatnot.

Instead, what you should headcanon about Sky is removing him from canon forever. The correct answer is believing that Sky never existed or is instead replaced by a more competently written one. I've got a lot of ideas on how I would personally write him instead (leaning more into him being a sheltered, yet curious dragon who is socially inept but still competent), but for now it's just me complaining about headcanons.

God Tui just...why... Why did you make this character? It's agonizing seeing the wasted potential for a character that is virtually just there to gawk at for being Peril's brother and being ""cute"".

#wings of fire #wof #sky wof #sp-rambles

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helluva-hazbins-most-fuckable · 1 month

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You saw the url. You know what you're in for. Welcome sinners of all denominations, to the Helluva/Hazbin Fuckability polls! A light-hearted romp for the dirty and the silly. The rules are incredibly simple; just vote for whichever character you, personally, want to fuck the most! Or whoever you just find the hottest in general. Twitter had their shot at this, so I thought I could, too!

Additional rules, dates, and match-ups under the cut!

1) No minors obviously

2) Propaganda and anti-propaganda can and will be reblogged! However, please do not get too graphic. Obviously given the subject matter, completely sfw commentary is not the goal, but there's a difference between going "I bet he's got a good dick" and writing a 10k smut fantasy going into vivid detail about personal kinks and stuff. Use your own personal discretion to judge.

3) While it is perfectly acceptable to dislike a character, please do not seriously bash the character, and especially do not bash fans of that character. (Positive example: "if [character] wins I'm blowing up the moon" or "list of reasons why [character] is unfuckable grrr" <- acceptable things. Negative example: "who tf is voting for [character] I just wanna talk and also I am in your walls" "those voting [character] shall taste my blade" <- not cool! Not funny. You will be blocked!)

4) I will do my best to adhere to the schedule set, but please keep in mind that the OP is one person and simply doing this in their spare time for funnies. This is by no means a professional poll. If i'm ever late getting to a piece of propaganda or if the polls are not up on the dot of when they're supposed to be, I apologize profusely.

5) "Why isn't [x background character] here?" bc i didn't wannaaaa okay???? i didn't wanna!!! you can't make me include generic shark henchman #12! i don't wannaaaaa!!!!

6) Characters revived via the redemption round may only come back ONCE! If they lose again, that's it! They're ineligible to return.

7) Have fun and be yourself. :3 May the sexiest character win!

THE POLLS BEGAN ON MARCH 21st, 4:00PM UK STANDARD TIME

VOTING WILL LAST ONE WEEK! THE ROUNDS WILL BE RELEASED IN PHASES, ONE DAY AFTER ANOTHER. LOSER ROUNDS WILL FOLLOW. WHICHEVER TWO WIN THE LOSER ROUNDS WILL BE PROMOTED TO THE MAIN BRACKET AFTER!

First rounds:

(Day 1)

Blitzø vs. Robo-Fizz Charlie vs. Husker Loona vs. Agent 2 Crim vs. Mammon Emily vs. Glitz & Glam Moxxie vs. Zestial Stolas vs. Andrealphus

(Day 2)

Paimon vs. Blitzø's Dad Cleetus vs. Valentino Verosika vs. Striker Sera vs. Stella Collin vs. Keenie Vaggie vs. Lute Adam vs. Lilith

(Day 3)

Lucifer vs. Fizzarolli Alastor vs. Deerie Niffty vs. Sir Pentious Chaz vs. Millie Loopty-Goopty vs. Lyle Lipton Katie Killjoy vs. Tom Trench Barbie Wire vs. Cherri Bomb

(Day 4)

Carmilla vs. Velvette

Vox vs. Agent 1 Rosie vs. St. Peter Queen Bee vs. Vortex Martha vs. Mrs. Mayberry Mimizy vs. Wally Wackford Asmodeus vs. Angel Dust Sallie May vs. Missi Zilla Lin vs. Joe

THE REDEEMED:

Charlie, Striker, Adam, Asmodeus, Fizzarolli, annnnd Velvette

Round 2 begins April 15th at 4pm UK standard time

Round 2 matchups!

Husker v Angel Dust Sera v Mrs. Mayberry Alastor v Zestial Sir Pentious v Loopty Goopty Carmilla v Rosie Millie v Vaggie Valentino v Paimon (TIE?!) Mammon v Keenie Katie Killjoy v Mimzy Sallie May v Lin Loona v Queen Bee Cherri Bomb v Glitz n Glam Lilith v Vox Verosika v Blitzo Lucifer v Stolas

REDEMPTION CRAB BUCKET: Charlie v Velvette Fizz v Ozzie Striker v Adam

Hope to see you there! Have a sinful time.

#hazbin hotel #helluva boss #tournament poll #tumblr polls #18+#ig #silly personal poll

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lake-archive · 4 months

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Were You Ever Going To Tell Me?

AO3 Link - Bungo Stray Dogs Selfship / Yumeship Masterlist

Fandom: Bungo Stray Dogs

Characters: Osamu Dazai, Annette 'Ann' Droste-Hühlshoff (OC)

Pairing: Annzai (Ann/Dazai)

Words: 954

Where was this guy? No, seriously, where the hell was Dazai now? Was he running late or something? Why didn’t he say a word? Ugh, it was always some type of pain to be honest, having to figure out where this guy is. Living in the same space as him was a mistake, or so it felt like sometimes, and yet there was nothing they could do about it. He had insisted. Why?

“Well, your Dad told me to keep an eye on his little girl! And I’ll do just that~ Let’s get along from now on!”

That had been his words to them, literally, but it had been nothing but chaos ever since as well as a lack of organization. Sometimes he wouldn’t even show up for days which got not just the cat in this small space worried but also Ann themself. Yeah, sure, he was a pain in the ass, but the three were still living together. And it has been like this for a good while. So of course they are going to worry! Not to mention the searching going on! And whenever phoning in they would just hear the usual excuse. “ Dazai? He’s going to show up somehow somewhere. Now go to bed! Don’t you have a shift tomorrow? ” Yeah well that was not really assuring Ann! Nor was it Ole!

Ole is the little kitten who had tagged along with Ann when they had left their home. His fur was black for the most part yet white around the belly as well his paws. Though the most outstanding features were his wide, green eyes and his nose with a white dot right on it.

He was not the youngest cat around, but three years was not that old either. He was still very green to the world, always wandering around curiously when going outside, exploring the whole wide world at his paws. Well, unlike a certain someone Ole always came back before it would get dark, wanting to get snuggly inside the four walls. But it was impossible for him when someone was missing. In fact, his ears were always vibrating like crazy, as if fearful that something had happened if only one person was missing. So the so–called ‘words of reassurance’ were not helping at all! They never were!

Not to mention Ann themself had gotten impatient as well. At this rate they were worrying more for Ole’s sake than their own, given the cat has decided to hide under the table to calm down, scared out of his wits.

“If something happened it better be–” They were about to complain in the open and yet were interrupted with a sudden knock from the window. No, scratch that, it was loud bashing which made Ole jump away from the table yet hide beneath one of the shelves in said room. Ann only watched him make an escape out of fear and sighed. Yet they could understand, especially given how loud and sudden this noise was. Plus Ole was a cat, of course he would be sensitive to stuff like that.

“This better be someone I can teach a lesson…” They grumbled, not pleased with this turn of events as they walked over to the window to shut it open in one go. They had not seen who it was due to the curtains being in the way. And thus they were yelling at first: “Alright punk! You got some guts knocking on that thing! How ‘bout I—” And yet they would be shut up the moment they saw who it was… Dangling from a tree, upside down, both legs tied together. And yet, that person had a smile plastered all over, seeming to be rather carefree when interrupting them.

“Haha, Ann! Perfect timing! I knew you’d be home!” A laughter came out of that mouth. “My head hurts! Can you please help me down from here?”

“D… Dazai?” They said, not really surprised but impressed in a very negative sense. They had some many questions to be honest “When did you get here? And more importantly, how did you— Wait nevermind, I don’t want to know how or why actually.”

“Eh!? Why not? Ask ahead~ I’d be happy to—”

“No thanks, pass. I can already imagine what this is about.” All too vivid. They learnt quickly what this man was known for… Much to their dismay. “Doesn’t answer since when you were here.”

“Oh that? Two hours ago I think.” He responded, sounding ever so carefree. But it only made one of their eyelids twitch instead. Oh how they wished to snap his neck at this point but were trying so hard not to.

“T… Two hours?”

He nodded. “Anyway, can you help me down? My head’s really starting to—”

“YOU WERE GOING TO TELL US WHEN!?” They yelled from one moment to the next, perhaps even the neighbors heard it. But Ann certainly did not care. They did not even wait for an answer nor an excuse and instead slammed the window door close. “Stay outside for a little while longer!”

“ Eh!? Don’t be so mean now! Help me! Pretty please!”

“Forget it! You can ro—”

“Won’t little Ole be sad if I don’t come in soon?”

And a moment of silence… That dirty bastard! Playing the cat card! Urgh… The only thing they couldn’t say no to. And thus opened the window shortly after some thinking, even if only peeking out at first. “Ugh, fine. You win. But only for Ole’s sake.”

“Haha, I knew we’d come to an agreement! Now, pretty please?”

“Yes, yes. I’ll get you down there… Urgh…” He would make things easier if he didn’t pull stunts like this though… Idiot.

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lilbitofmac · 1 year

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Any (sfw) ironstrange fic refs?

Sorry for the late response on this— my memory is always pretty spotty, so I have trouble recalling good fics to recommend!

I’ll give you a top ten request, how about that? These are all AO3 fics!

End of Infinity by FriendlyNeighborhoodFangirls — I feel like if you’re a big shipper of ironstrange, you’ve gotta check out this absolute masterpiece of a fic!! It’s a suuuper slowburn, clocking in at 291+ chapters and still ongoing. Normally, I don’t read fics that aren’t finished, but trust me this one had me sobbing for days. Check out their other works, as well!!

The Blood in Your Veins by Aelaer — Wowowow, this fic absolutely shook me to my core. If you’re okay with some heavy angst, I would 10000% recommend this. Aelaer’s writing is so engaging and the care and understanding they have of Stephen and Tony’s perspectives and motivations are *chef’s kiss* Also, any fic that can actually make me care about the original characters within it? Automatically raises my respect for them.

The Sorcerer of Ephemeral Colors by Imagined — I LOVE FANTASY AUs FOR THIS SHIP!!!! Mage Stephen and Prince Tony go together so fucking well, I could go absolutely insane UGGHH!! This is another big boy fic, but the progression and story-telling, as well as the world-building are done so well!! If you like Fantasy AUs, you’ll love this fic!

(Sober) Companion by funkylittleidiot — It’s been a minute since I read this one, but I was thinking about picking it up again! Another AU fic, this time No Powers with the twist of Stephen helping people recover from their addictions! I wasn’t so sure about the premise at first, but honestly I loved how the author handled the subject matter from what I can remember. Heavy on the Tony angst. I really just love fics where Stephen takes care of Tony =w=;; I think this one is sfw? I really need to reread it 😅

The One to Bet On by airas_story — UGHHHH I LOVE THEIR WORK SO MUCH!!!! This is another fic that’s still ongoing! I am absolutely a SUCKER for time traveler Tony. It is so interesting to see what he does in the past to fix the future, and so far I’m really enjoying where they’re taking the story! Check out their other fics, as well, if you enjoy this one!!

Embers by surveycorpsjean — Idk man this is just a soft fic with these two 🥺💕 Steve and the other Avengers do make an appearance; there’s no character bashing or anything like that, but they don’t take up too much time in the fic! Stephen is just so smitten in this, and I absolutely adore it. Also another author you should check out their other works!

A witch’s cat by harpywrites — TONY GETS STEPHEN A CAT, AND ITS THE CUTEST THING EVER UGGHHH!!! Such a soft, feel-good fic, I absolutely love how Harpy writes Tony here. Seriously, if you just want a quick fic to make you smile, this is the one for you. If you want some heavy Stephen angst, though, check out the rest of Harpy’s works!! She loves to torture the poor sorcerer 💀

dream a little dream of me by DarkKitty1208 — You asked for sfw fics, so I’m not sure how deep angst can get before you call it quits? But if you’re cool with it, I highly recommend this one. Heavy Stephen angst with Tony helping him through his struggles; the imagery in this fic is stunning!!! Kitty has a very good understanding of Stephen and his struggles, so it’s super engaging to see this man trying and failing to cope with his demons! If you want more Stephen angst, check out Kitty’s LIBRARY of fics. Stephen never catches a break istg.

The Affection Thief by airas_story — I’m cheating by including them again on this list, but mostly it’s because I’ve run out of sfw fics 😅 THIS ONE IS SO DAMN CUTE!!!! Stephen gets turned into a cat and shenanigans ensue!! It’s such a simple concept, but the way my heart melted at how they wrote Stephen in this *sobs*

Annnd I’ll cheat for the final one, too.

Prophets in the Graveyard by FriendlyNeighborhoodFangirls — Another Fantasy AU fic because god I can’t get enough of them!!! This time with a murder mystery twist ohohoho! Another long boy with a slowburn because I love to torture myself in the best of ways. Again, this author just handles world-building, pacing, and characterization so so so fucking beautifully in their works. If you haven’t read from them, I beg of you to check out their fics!!

(Honorable Mention: you should absolutely also check out atypicalsnowman’s collection of works. I particularly love their “whatever souls are made of” fic, but it does have eventual smut!! Just seeing how Stephen and Tony would navigate a situation where they use a soul bond to defeat Thanos is ugghh so good.)

#this took me almost two hours to type out #my memory is seriously so bad #I had to go through my bookmarks and skim through most of these to try and remember finer details of them #hopefully you find something you’re looking for on this list!!#response #ironstrange

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milfgyuu · 1 year

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The Yo-Nut Slasher Pairing: Wen Junhui x Fem!Reader Tags: 2.3k, Humor, Spooky Stuff Prompt: “Would you stop stuffing your face with candy for one moment and listen?” Requested Anonymously Summary: Ur favorite Yo-Nut employees are back for a Halloween special. (From the ‘What’s My Age Again?’ AU)

Warnings: Language.

Halloween is always a busy night for the Yo-Nuts staff, including the late shift because what’s better than going home and digging into all that candy?

Apparently going out for frozen yogurt and donuts at one o’clock in the morning.

That’s what.

You and Jun whirl around each other behind the counter serving costumed vampires, werewolves, zombies, cheerleaders, celebrities, slasher villains, and tv show characters galore.

Seriously, you’ve seen like twelve Eddie Munsons from Stranger things in the past hour alone.

The toppings are running slim and there is only one bin of gummy bears left but thankfully closing time quickly approaches and people start filtering out around two thirty in the morning. You attempt to clean as you go but you’re shot from how busy it’s been. Jun is much the same as he half-heartedly cleans the counter, knocking sprinkles onto the floor he’ll have to sweep up later.

He’s still holding strong to that promise of cleaning the floors and bathrooms for all eternity.

“That’s it,” Jun sighs in relief, locking the doors and turning off all the neons in the windows. He flips the ‘Closed’ sign a little hastier than usual. “Hell night is over.”

You snort, turning down the lights. “It’s almost three am. The witching hour hasn’t even begun.”

Jun finishes cleaning the last of the tables and see’s you carefully closing out the computer system, pulling the cash drawer to take back to the office to count.

He can’t resist the urge - you’re just so vulnerable and unsuspecting. He sneaks up behind you and presses his fingers into your ribs, delighting in the terrified squawk you let out.

He’s lucky not a single penny spills from the drawer in your hands.

“If you tell anyone about the sound I just made, I’ll kill you,” you growl before turning around and glaring up at him, “And then I’ll dump your ass and you can be a lonely single loser for all of eternity.”

Jun grins. “You’re so hot when you threaten me.”

Damn him and his ability to make you laugh.

You retreat to the office and Jun cleans the floors and bathrooms - though it might be a little half-assed and a problem for day shift. The only thing left to do is shut down the serving station but he glances at it and instead decides to check on you and make sure you weren’t trying to bash in the poor old printer as he’d caught you attempting a few weeks back.

Printing the evening financials was decidedly the worst part of your job.

Thankfully, by the time he arrives, you’re already neatly stacking reports and stapling them together. The machinery still fully intact. Jun knows he’s not allowed to be all lovey dovey with you at work because you hate the PDA but no one is around so he leans over you to kiss the top of your head, smiling when he hears your soft hum of approval.

Something catches his eye in the large monitor that displays the footage from the security cameras and at first, he writes it off as his imagination but another flicker of motion has his brows furrowed as he leans over you. You complain about being smooshed beneath his frame but he clicks on one of the outside cameras, centering the footage and making it larger.

“Someone is hanging around by the dumpsters.”

You huff. “Yeah, probably a fat raccoon.”

“No, I’m serious.” His tone is far more firm than usual and you take a look at the screen. “That’s a person. They’re just…pacing back and forth.”

There’s a lump in your throat and you struggle to swallow it down.

“Maybe they’re drunk,” you hurry to rationalize why there would be a large, dark figure lurking behind your building, “There’s tons of Halloween parties and pub crawls going on.”

Jun grimaces, “...I don’t like it.”

You lay your hand over his and look up at him. “I’ll write a note for day shift and we can just leave the trash inside by the back door. My car is close to the front doors so let’s just finish what we need and go, okay?”

Jun glances back at the camera where the figure continues to pace back and forth, no sign of deviation from it’s short, repetitive path. “Yeah, okay. Let’s get out of here.”

Even though you know you’re safe inside you don’t let go of Jun’s hand as you walk around ensuring everything is indeed locked up. Jun hits the lights as you go, blanketing everything in darkness until only a few service lights and the moonlight shining through the dining room windows illuminate your steps.

You make it just around the corner and behind the counter when Jun suddenly wraps his around around you from behind, one hand over your mouth, and he drops you both to the ground behind the serving station. Your eyes are wide in panic and Jun hushes you softly, his lips close to your ear.

“Don’t scream! Please don’t scream,” he repeats until you release the death grip on his wrist and try to slow your breathing. “Someone is outside trying to look into the windows.”

“M-maybe it’s just some idiot who doesn’t realize we’re closed.”

There’s a horrific sound that hits your ears and you both cringe. The sound of something sharp scratching glass.

You jolt in fear and accidentally knock Jun’s head against a metal cabinet. He groans but you quickly scramble out of his lap and plaster yourself next to him, curling your knees tight to your chest. You smack his thigh, telling him to do the same thing because his long legs stick out so far his shoes would be visible to whoever the hell is outside. He tucks them in and rubs the back of his head, instinctively ducking as there is a taunting knocking sound.

“This is not fucking happening,” you mutter to your self, “We’re not getting murdered in Yo-Nuts.”

Jun snorts and you cut him a glare. “What?” he whispers, “The headline would be a little bit funny.”

“I’m. Not. Laughing.”

He shuts right up and the silence is followed by tapping but it’s sharp, almost metallic. It makes your teeth hurt. Jun looks over at you trembling in fear and he tries to make you feel better.

“What if it’s like the hash-slinging slasher?” he attempts, “Right? Because he was actually just some guy with a spatula who wanted to apply for a job and he wasn’t scary at all!”

Your nails dig into your knees to keep from losing it and you look over at him, tilt your head, and grit your teeth. Jun shrinks.

“Except that was a SpongeBob episode and this is real life!” you hiss, “And we don’t fucking use spatulas here!”

So, that didn’t work.

“Oh my god,” you squeeze the bridge of your nose, “Ok. We just need to think.”

The tapping is drowned out by a loud crunching sound and when you peer over at Jun, he’s managed to somehow reach back behind and above your heads to grab a mixed handful of crushed peanuts and chocolate chips out of the serving bins. He shovels it into his mouth and you shake your head at him.

“Ok, alright, we need to call the cops,” you mumble to yourself patting down both your apron and pants pockets, “Shit, where is my phone?”

More crunching but slightly varied. Likely another topping option.

Around a mouthful, Jun asks, “Did you leave it in the office?”

Yes. Yes, you did. It had almost fallen out of your pocket so you set it on the desk and then you got distracted by the creeper outside and you just wanting to get the hell out of here.

You hold out a hand toward your boyfriend and then close your fist around four multi colored sour gummy worms. With a hushed groan, you whip your head toward him, vision catching on the pink gummy worm hanging out the corner of his mouth.

His eyes widen curiously as you aggressively throw them away, the faint sound of them splattering somewhere in the kitchen again forgotten when the knocking and scratching picks up again. “Would you stop stuffing your face with candy for one moment and listen?!”

Jun gawks at you incredulously. “Babe! You know I eat when I’m nervous!”

You will every ounce of patience into your body. You love him. You really do. You don’t want to sacrifice him to the shadow man outside. Even though you could probably out run him. Or trip him. He’s got weaker ankles.

Ugh. Who are you kidding? You’d miss him too much.

Calmly and evenly, you try again, holding out your hand. “Jun, I need your phone.”

“I don’t have it.”

“What do you mean you don’t have it? You always have it!”

He smiles awkwardly. “I left it at home because we were gonna be together all day anyways so I thought I uh…wouldn’t need it.”

You narrow your eyes and then gasp. “Oh my god! You’re downloading that stupid upgrade for your league game, aren’t you?!”

Jun sighs. “Well…yeah, but only because it takes like six hours and again,” he emphasizes with his brows and a wave of his hand over your body, “Love of my life. Right here. By my side. All day. Who else do I need to call?”

“I don’t know…maybe the police?! In case of an emergency! Like this!”

Jun nods. ”Right…yeah. Lesson learned there.”

You realize you need to get back to the office for the business phone but even if you crawl all the way there, you’d be visible for a brief portion of it. Tears spring to your eyes in both frustration and fear. You bury your face in your hands and Jun loops his arm around your shoulders. “Hey,” he says softly, “We’re going to be okay. I promise.”

You lean into his embrace. All the frustration and anger peeling away to the reveal the very raw terror beneath. “I’m sorry for being so mean, Junhui,” you sniffle, pressing harder against his chest, “I’m so fucking scared right now.”

“I know,” he wraps his arms tighter, “I know. Me too.”

“I love you.”

“Now you’re scaring me.”

A little reluctantly amused nose exhale is all he gets in response.

With Jun’s encouragement and warm touch that never wavers, he convinces you to make a run to the back office where the phone is located, and he locks the door from the inside. You make a frantic call out to emergency services and are forced to sit tight wait for them to arrive - both too nervous to do much more than share the single desk chair and huddle together anyway.

The cops find nothing aside from some scratches near the doors but the entire property was clear by the time you emerge from the building. Jun triple checks the alarm and quadruples his efforts on the locks. They determine it was probably just some kids playing a prank or like you had originally assumed, a drunkard out of his mind but probably harmless.

It isn’t until a week later, lazing about in Jun’s bed as you flicked through channels late at night that you got an actual answer to who was outside that night.

Your boss believed your story and hadn’t batted an eye about closing the shop early for the next two weeks - giving you and Jun much needed time off. It was spent much like this, in the apartment with you sitting up against the pillows and Jun laying on his stomach between your legs, long arms wrapped around your waist as he sleeps with his head on your thigh or stomach. You didn’t much care to sleep alone and Jun didn’t argue when you unofficially moved in for the time being.

The reporter’s voice on the news channel catches your attention.

“After multiple reports of local night shift workers being terrorized by an unknown ‘Shadow Man’ police have finally brought charges against a suspect they caught lurking near a downtown pub.”

“Babe,” you pat Jun’s bare back repeatedly, “Wake up and look at the tv!”

He lifts his heads and smacks his lips. There’s probably drool on you where his mouth has been but you ignore it. Jun turns his head at an awkward angle and blinks. “No dummy just roll over!”

He musters the energy and then very ungracefully rolls onto his back to rest his head and shoulders against your front. You wrap your arms around him and rub his chest, coaxing him back to the land of the living. “They caught the guy!”

Jun hums. “What guy?”

“Shh!”

‘....surveillance paid off when officers caught the thirty-seven year old convicted felon pacing in the alley way behind the pub’s back door the staff typically uses to take trash to the dumpsters. He’s been taken into custody though the full extent of charges being brought against him are still unknown.’

Jun’s heartbeat thuds hard & fast beneath your palm.

‘All reports mention taunting scratching, tapping, and knocking against glass and exterior doors and four of the six businesses were able to provide security footage showing an identical shadowy figure pacing in the same pattern near the rear exits and dumpsters. Although his motive is currently unknown, all reports came from vulnerable night shift employees who experienced this horror just minutes…’

Jun slips the remote from your fingers and switches something else on. Something more upbeat.

“Are you sure you don’t want to look for a new job?”

You blink at him. “You want to leave Yo-Nuts?”

Jun snickers. He’ll never be over the company name. It’s the reason he applied.

“No,” he sighs, looking up at you as he shakes his head, “Not really. It’s easy and they overpay us. Plus...we get to work together.”

You smile, tipping your chin down to kiss his forehead.

“I don’t want to leave either.”

Jun shrugs, settling into his new comfy position and he holds your hands. “Then it’s settled. We’re staying. Take that, you Hash-Slinging Slasher wannabe.”

“Yeah…that guy definitely wasn’t applying for a job.”

Thanks for reading!

Halloween 2022 | SVT M.List | Main M.List

→ Please do NOT copy, repost, or translate, any of my works here on tumblr or on any other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, Milfgyuu, 2019. ©️

#halloween drabbles 2022 #svt fanfic #jun fanfic #svthub #caratwritersclub #kdiarynet #kwritersworldnet #junhui fanfic #svt jun fanfic #wen junhui fanfic #seventeen fanfic #kpop fanfics #lana writes

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purplekoop · 6 months

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I officially Have Job Now (still in the process of getting a bank account because the past 6 years of my life have been an almost comical series "we'll get to it later" moments but at least I can rest easy enough knowing my hours are gonna be compensated when it's possible) but I'm still in a creative and artistic rut that I very much wish to solve with the metaphorical equivalent of being bashed in the head with a shovel to get on with it.

I'll be transparent here and say that art has been hard for me the past few months. Between frequent downward spirals of self doubt over my creative and technical capacity, and just general inability to muster the desire to do art despite the ever-looming dread of not doing art... I've had lower points in my creative journey but I've sure as hell had higher. Not dissimilar is my broader mental state, where I've been generally fine but subject myself to existential spirals when dwelling on something as simple as having a big cavity in one of my molars and no immediate access to dental care at the moment. This isn't meant to be a pity post, genuinely I don't have much to complain about right now, it's just the same sort of mental (and in some respects physical) issues I've been dealing with for a while now. It's just more poignant now when I don't really have much of a satisfying "distraction" in the form of doing stuff creatively.

Currently there's only a few "projects" (feels like I'm giving myself too much credit with that terminology) I really can commit much thought to lately, both of which, either luckily or predictably, I've gone into at least some depth publicly on this blog. Fortunately for what I assume is the majority of my follower base, both are based around Overwatch.

The Role Requeue AU is a very fun "project" for me (again, feels wrong to call it a "project" when it's something meant strictly for the concept phase, even just a workshop mode is beyond the scope of realism). It scratches all my itches for something fun to think about: no pressure to make it a "finalized product", the opportunity to conceptually tinker around with mechanics I'm both thoroughly familiar with and interesting in exploring beyond their official scope, and most importantly, people to share ideas to and even collaborate with! Seriously, I know it's almost certainly less than a handful of people who've even seen any of the posts on it, but the response so far has me beyond ecstatic. The greatest gift an artist can receive in my opinion is a "yes, and" to their work, and I'm extremely grateful that Role Requeue (shoot, down to even that name being a suggestion too good to pass up) has already inspired such.

The only technical restraint on Role Requeue is me sitting down and writing a long tumblr post, so once I have the time (as soon as tomorrow mayhaps?) I'll try and get another one out. I still have some specifics I want to sort out, but Symmetra, Sombra, and "Ashe" are all contenders for being the next one to get a post.

So that leaves the other project I've been able to work on at least to some extent lately: my original hero shooter concept, (still under the working title) War Bots. For those who weren't around or otherwise missed the intro, it's a team based shooter starring a cast of robot characters in a post-human earth, fighting against either another team of player-controlled bots or a ravenous horde of sentient, mutant plant creatures. The "game" (again, very much in the concept phase) takes heavy inspiration from both Overwatch and its precursor in the subgenre, Team Fortress 2. The general gameplay design of the cast takes inspiration more from OW, while the larger team sizes and loadout system are ideas from TF2.

If you're wondering why both of my creative projects I really have any ideas for right now are directly because of Overwatch, it's because. well hate to admit it but it's the most consistent thing I've played all year. Arguably the past 5 years or so, save for when the pre-OW2 content famine was really starting to hit and I finally gave TF2 a try myself in the meantime (didn't like actually playing it as much, sorry). But especially now with the steam release actually working on my PC, which the battle.net version frequently failed at, it's been my defacto "I don't know what to do right now" time waster, and to me at least it's fun enough to where I still haven't gotten sick of it. It doesn't help that my actual other biggest inspiration for War Bots, Bloons TD 6 (yes really) is my number 2 pick for that niche, and I honestly don't play games that much lately aside from multiplayer stuff or streams (yes I stream I need to make a pinned post linking my stuff). So, I got Overwatch on the brain, and when my brain has something on it, its general reaction is to try and put my own spin on it, hence the creation of the "Overwatch but different" AU and "Overwatch but not" the video game coming to somewhere you can buy video games eventually hopefully one day please. I play fighting games I come up with a fighting game, I like superheroes I make my own, I like the funny colorful character-based shooters I make notes for how I wanna do it myself.

War Bots is in an awkward spot though, because I already gave myself a hard cap for how much I wanna think ahead for a game so early in development that the sole developer doesn't even have a game making engine installed on their PC yet. The loadout system is meant to allow for a smaller roster, saving time on creating completely new characters with their models and animations and lore and so on, while potentially allowing for an even further variety of functional playstyles than what'd be possible with an exclusively character-based system like Overwatch. You don't need Soldier 76, Bastion, Widowmaker, and Ashe all existing separately with broadly similar weapon types, just one "rifle guy" with four different options for their main weapon.

Despite that, I love making characters too dang much and made a version of the roster with up to 25 characters. I since reconsidered, picking the characters I actually saw potential in, making sure to avoid redundancies that couldn't be resolved, and now have a cast of 15 or 20, ideally launching with 15 and adding 5 more post-release. A roster of 25 and possibly even beyond wouldn't be impossible after that, but I want to limit the scope of what I was considering at this point. I like the cap of 20 because my current idea is that the PvP mode is played in 10v10, and each of the game's 5 roles (Damage, Control, Tank, Utility, Support) would have four characters, while also letting a standard match (if desired) have exactly one of each character on the field at once. This pleases me. At the moment though, I have 3 characters for Damage, 4-ish for Control, 2 for Tank (shocking, I know), 3 for Utility, one guy who could either be Tank or Utility, and 4 for Support but I'm admittedly not as keen on one of them at this point. This leaves roughly 4 or 5 slots in the roster left for what I want to realistically consider right now, some of which I have ideas for based on prior iterations of the roster, but I'm still not settled on something super satisfying yet.

For now, I'm focusing more on polishing the loadout system and the alternate weapons for each character, trying to get as much out of the characters I've already established before I move onto jotting down new ones in my notes. I did however hit a snag, because the system divides your loadout into three different interchangeable options: Weapon, Body, and Accessory. The weapon is your main means of attack and (broadly speaking) determines your primary and secondary fire. The Body meanwhile refers to some interchangeable part of the robot's body that grants them unique abilities, typically aiding in mobility. In Overwatch terms this is "Ability 1", or Shift in default keyboard binding terms, while also potentially carrying a passive ability. Accessories are comparable to Splatoon's sub weapons, generally some kind of throwable thing that provides a burst of utility at the cost of limited availability, in this case a longer cooldown than your Body ability or requiring a special pickup on the map to regain faster, or possibly being limited by a character-specific resource. This is the equivalent to OW's "Ability 2" or "E" ability. The snag here was that each part of the 3-part system was given 4 variants, a default or "stock" option and three unlockables that take the basic concept and replace it with an alternative that provides unique functionality. The problem was that especially with the "Body" options, it was hard to come up with meaningful alternatives for every slot for every character without feeling redundant. My compromise was that while Weapons get 3 unlocks, Body equipment and Accessories only get 2 unlocks, unless I feel a special exception warrants it. I may deem a character would get more value out of more Body or Accessory options rather than main weapons, or if I have a really good idea for an extra of something.

oh and also semi recently I decided that reserve ammo should be a mechanic, but then I realized that doesn't work unless every character has an infinitely usable melee attack that can function without reserve ammo (and is also more robust than OW's piddly little mostly universal quick melee attack), but I don't want to make a whole fourth slot for each character for melee weapons, but otherwise I don't know what'd determine the properties of your melee attack if anything deviates it from the default, and also are melee weapon attacks always available or do they require switching off of your actual weapon, but does that make sense for the characters who'd logically just smack with their normal weapon, like does the wizard guy just hold their staff differently for a "melee stance", but also thinking is hard.

So between the partial downsizing of the Loadout system, the need to put "uses reserve ammo" or "doesn't require reserve ammo" in all of my notes for each character's weapon, and the need to figure out melee attacks/weapons, I have to do some very meticulous updates to my current notes, which doesn't make for a super exciting prospect. Hey, at least I can think of funny things for these goobers to smack people with!

I do actually have an art now, though it's not my most flattering work. Had some ideas for alternate weapons for Yanno, the explosives aficionado with a dragon-shaped fireworks launcher for a hand I shared in an earlier post. The eagle launcher rewards precise aim and improves your aerial capabilities, the hydra launcher unleashes multiple rockets at a time, and the shark cannon fires big, arcing bombs that roll on the ground before detonating momentarily after. Very obviously taking heavy inspiration from a certain other flying explosive enthusiast for a couple of these, and the shark cannon exists entirely to avoid needing a separate character just for a grenade launcher guy when rockets are already such a similar weapon type.

So uh.

...I had a point I think.

art hard but I wanna do it more. this was a rant post but got devoured in word count by War Bots so uh. oops if you don't care about that.

I think I feel better now? remind me when I get up though to make a post linking my twitch and youtube.

#koop's oc stuff #role requeue #war bots #long post

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winns-stuff · 2 years

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LO RANT:

Okay this is petty to say, but it’s late and I was thinking about Lore Olympus heading into it’s new episodes and I just… I don’t get it. All the plots are kinda done and over with if you think about it, toxic girlfriend is gone, kronos is dead, no more college, no more TGEOM, no more controlling mom, and no AOW storyline. What will be left is Apollo, marriage, babies and you can easily just give that one or a few episodes because let’s be fr, Rachel did that with the whole 10 year thing. Everything is gonna be dealt with without any character development or any real message. This is supposedly a feminist story yet it depicts the story of a young girl falling for an older much richer and powerful man and the young girl leaving everything she loves and everyone she loves to be with this man after three weeks just to marry and have kids. I don’t know about you guys but I just don’t want to see Persephone become a housewife, I don’t want her to be just a baby maker for Hades and before you even say anything let’s be real that’s where this story is going you may not like how I say it but I’m saying this in the nicest way I possibly can. Persephone is literally just there to “fix Hades”, give him kids, and be with him so he won’t be lonely. He’s so dependent on her emotionally that he physically doesn’t know what to do with himself, a lot of people mistake that for love but in the context of their relationship I see it as desperation.

Hades has always been desperate. Desperate to be like his brothers, to have a queen, to have a wife, to not be lonely. He’d literally pick anyone to be his wife at this point if he hadn’t met Persephone because we’ve seen him trying to flirt with women before, it’s always giving escort and no I don’t mean to sound like I’m shaming escorts or anything that’s pretty dumb seeming as they’re literally doing a job but in this context the women he’s choosing aren’t escorts they’re just unlucky women who have to deal with him. He pays them and buys them gifts and everything and gives them everything they have just so they’ll stay with him. I’ve been noticing that, and then once he finds another young woman he does the same thing. That man is so utterly pathetic it’s scary, if you’re ever going to get into a relationship you should at the very least deal with very huge behavioral problems, for example Hades’ temper, something doesn’t go his way he riots like a child or you disagree with him and he’s upset, you give him criticism and he’s rushing out in the rain. You see what I’m getting at? Hades isn’t a very suitable person because he expects the woman in the relationship to be able to fix himself for him, to make all his problems go away, to deal with him at his ugliest and everything when he can’t even comfort and help Persephone when she confessed to him, or Minthe when she was getting insulted (badly might I add) by his own family to his face. He doesn’t even try being there yet those women are gonna have to bend over backwards to please him or he’ll go find someone else to whine to. Hades is pathetic and I despise him immensely, I hate him with the passion of a thousand suns and I wanna make that intensely clear to anyone who comes across this page for the first time. He was never a good person and he can’t even better his ways for Persephone.

Anyways, that’s the end of this rant. I’m a little eager for Saturday since I have a few things I wanna say about the episode but yeah, school is back in session as most of you know and I am running out of rants and even some appreciations. I believe I was going to appreciate Artemis next though so I’ll just use this post to remind me whenever I get the chance. But as I always say these are completely meaningless I don’t want anyone taking this seriously, I’m just stating my thoughts and opinions and if you agree with it that’s great and if you don’t that’s great too. By the way, this isn’t to bash Hades Lovers or anything if you like the man I don’t want you to back down from him just because I, a random teen on the internet, said something about it. If he’s your type he’s your type and this wasn’t a bash or anything so hopefully it doesn’t seem like it if it does I’m very sorry.

#lo critical #anti lore olympus #anti lo #lore olympus critical

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lily-blue · 2 years

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13 reasons why | reason no.6: they have quality supplies and ingredients

☆ characters: freelancer!vernon & supplier!you (Rina - ‘96 liner) ☆ genre: coffee shop au, angst ☆ summary: having differences in a relationship is normal, but Hansol and you look at your relationship a bit too differently ☆ words: 10,1k ☆ massive thank you: to @dat-town ♥ who always makes time for proofreading my stories. i don’t know what i would do without you ☆ taglist: @soobin-chois

➼ chapter index

When you had moved to the capital city, following in your older brother’s footsteps, you had thought that your college years would be the craziest years of your life. You hadn’t thought that one failed Cost and Inventory Control exam would bless you with the clumsiest culinary arts major in history or that said guy would stick by your side even after your graduation.

Before Kim Mingyu, you had been content with your mundane dreams: earning a position in your family business instead of getting one because of your mother, finding a nice, affordable apartment downtown where you didn’t need to share your personal space with your brother and his girlfriend, and settling down with a reliable guy once you expanded your clientele in Seoul, too. You hadn’t wanted much. You hadn’t wished for constant excitement and chaos to feel that you were living your life the right way, but you had gotten those anyway when Kim Mingyu had introduced you to his boss and the new friends he had made at his first full-time job.

You had first met Hansol after you had officially signed a contract with Seungcheol and you had become the shop’s fixed supplier for two years. He had been waiting for his best friend to finish his job interview in the back of the soon-to-be customer area, while you had been about to look for your own to show him the papers with the owner’s fancy stamp on them, when the baker had rushed out of the kitchen from behind the counter and dropped a tray of cookies on the boy’s table.

‘Come here! I want both of you to taste test these before I show them to Seungcheol hyung,’ Mingyu had said, beckoning you closer to their table with his pleading eyes and pouty lips. He had acted as if you had ever said no to him - you hated exercising, yet you had bought a monthly membership to the same gym he attended because he had needed someone who kept the touchy girls away -, when he had known better than anyone how much of a weakling you could be when it came to his wishes. Without his tiresome nagging and life-saver cupcakes, you wouldn’t have passed that damned exam in your second year with flying colours. And you also liked having him around as a friend.

He had introduced you to Hansol before you could have swallowed the first bite and forced a conversation on the two of you as though he had seriously doubted either of you had initiated anything if he hadn’t. You still weren’t sure whether the situation would have been less tense or awkward if you had just sat in silence, but in hindsight, you were grateful for that little extra push.

Because as funny as it was, despite how much you loved romantic gestures and how unsure he was when it came to showing affection, you had fallen for him quickly yet steadily. Your feelings for him in February had already been strong enough to give you courage to confess first, therefore you had poured your heart out to him on his birthday over half a year ago and received his biggest goofy smile in exchange for your words.

The hazy memory of your first kiss with Hansol warmed your heart despite the undeniable hardships in your relationship, hence you pushed the front door of Coffee Carat open with a bashful smile before you collected yourself and called for your best friend.

‘Kim Mingyu! I’m sorry I’m late. There was an accident on the highway,’ you shouted on your way to the storage room, hoping that he had already opened the heavy door for you, because you knew from experience that it was a lot trickier than the other one. That one time you had tried to open it with your arms full, your index finger had stuck between the door and the frame and you had had a bruise under your nail for months.

‘It’s okay, it’s only six minutes,’ Seungcheol reassured you from behind the counter, but you shook your head and kept walking. Luckily, your best friend decided to be merciful this time and met you halfway where he took the paper box out of your hands.

Shooting a grateful smile in his direction, you watched as he carried the fruit syrups to where they belonged, then looked around in the shop and wondered where the others could have been. There might have still been an hour until they opened Coffee Carat for the customers, but most of the time, the employees were already cleaning the customer area by the time you arrived.

You walked up to Seungcheol, but refrained from leaning your elbows on the counter to not give them more work than they had. It wasn’t that you thought you were dirty, but they were your first clients that day and you had come here from your parents’ company near Hwasun. The long drive and the unreasonably warm weather these past weeks made you feel as if you couldn’t have had enough showers a day.

‘Still, I prefer to be punctual. You’re my client now, Seungcheol, not my friend,’ you shook your head in a scolding manner with a small smile in the corner of your mouth.

Seungcheol put aside the 10.000 ₩ bills he had been counting and looked at you.

‘That’s disappointing. And a bit embarrassing considering the favour I was about to ask for,’ he claimed, giving more flavour to his words with a sad pout. It was painfully obvious that he was messing with you, but you took the bait anyway.

‘Oh?’ You let out a curious sound, leaning a bit closer to him over the counter, but before you could have asked for more details, Junhui and Seokmin came out of the staff only area and demanded a piece of your attention.

You couldn’t see it, but Seungcheol watched your interaction with the boys with a fond smile as you explained to them where to look for the boxes you had brought for them, then stepped to the coffee machine and turned it on. This time, you delivered basic ingredients, syrups and five sacks of roasted coffee beans. It was a relatively small order, but essential nevertheless.

When you turned back to Seungcheol, he placed a cup of iced latte in front of you, served in the recycled plastic cup you had brought for them a month ago. He clicked his tongue when you tried to fish your wallet out of your worn belt bag to pay for it, then leaned against the sink behind his back when you said: ‘Thank you.’

‘It’s nothing, so let’s get back to that favour,’ he started, linking his arms in front of his chest. You took a sip from your latte. ‘I’ve already told you about the extra order because of the free coffees we will serve for the customers, so it’s about the after party,’ he said with a sheepish smile, his gaze falling on his shoes for a couple of seconds before he cleared his throat and looked up at you. ‘I’m gonna propose after closing time. There will be shortcakes and gallons of iced tea. We would be happy if you came.’

To say it wasn’t the favour you had expected would have been an understatement. Heck. If it had been a real thing, your jaw would have definitely dropped to the floor the moment your brain processed what was going on. After being in a relationship for no longer than one year, Seungcheol was about to propose to his girlfriend. Your grip around the plastic cup tightened. You didn’t understand how he could sound so sure of his decision when it affected his whole life. And not just his, but Hoyeon unnie’s as well.

One year was barely anything. It flew by so quickly.

‘Are you sure about this?’ The question fell from your lips before you could have held it back and you felt horrible for sounding so doubtful when you had no right to question his timing. It wasn’t your relationship. As a friend, you should have been happy for him and promised him that you would be there.

‘Obviously. I mean…’ Seungcheol tried to come up with a reassuring reply, but got cut off in mid sentence when Mingyu walked up to you and bumped his arm into yours.

‘Oh come on, noona!’ He nagged, his tone similar to the one he always used when he was convinced he knew better. By now, you didn’t have to look at him to know he was rolling his eyes. ‘We are all friends even if you have a boss kink during business hours,’ he teased with a shiteating grin that indicated: he had overheard your conversation when you had called Cheol your client instead of your friend.

‘Kim Mingyu!’ You screamed, punching his upper arm for saying something so crude in front of another person. He knew damn well how much it irked you when someone talked about bedroom matters in public. ‘I was talking about the proposal.’

Your small voice brought down the mood in a matter of seconds. You wished you could have taken back what you had just said. Heck. What had happened to your filters all of a sudden? This wasn’t you.

It was frustrating, the awkward silence that slowly closed up your pipes and suffocated you. However, it was all on you, so you should have stopped feeling sorry for yourself and started doing something to make up for the damage you had done. You could only imagine how uncomfortable Seungcheol must have felt after he had taken such a low bow right in the guts.

‘Of course I am,’ the eldest spoke when your words have visibly failed both you and Mingyu. You couldn’t look him in the eyes, but you forced yourself to act like a decent human being. ‘I’ve liked Hoyeon since I first saw her in my clothes. I want to spend the rest of my life with her, Kkuma, and our future kids. I have no reason to wait another year or two,’ he claimed, and if you had wanted to be a hundred percent honest, you found his confidence admirable. You wished you could have been so sure about your own relation—

The moment you realised your real reason for acting like an insecure bitch, shame washed over your entire body, leaving nothing but regret in its wake.

‘You’re right, I crossed a line. I’m sorry,’ you apologised immediately, hoping that the little crack in your voice didn’t take away from your sincerity.

Your friends exchanged a worried glance, then shifted their focus on your clearly frustrated figure. It was rare that you apologised so soon even when you were in the wrong - they had seen you avoid Hansol for a week when he had forgotten your birthday although you had never told him when it was or whether you had taken the date off your social media platforms because you didn’t like celebrating it -, and while they appreciated the gesture, your actions were uncharacteristic hence concerning.

Feeling uncomfortable under the spotlight, you bit into your left cheek from the inside.

‘It’s okay. I know it sounds rushed, but we’ve already talked about the future with her. I’m confident,’ Seungcheol said, his tone reassuring for which you were ridiculously grateful. It would have destroyed you if you had ruined his happiness. Especially because you knew how he looked after everyone around him, how amazing of a father he was for his puppy, and how much he adored everything about his significant other (even her flaws). If anyone was ready for this enormous step from your friends, it was him. And you really, truly wished him all the good things in the world.

‘I’m happy for you,’ you said, this time, with a lighter heart.

The elder’s carefree chuckle filled the cracks your bitter question had left on your friendship and set your messed up life straight. You reciprocated his gummy smile with your own.

‘Good. Then show up and celebrate with us,’ he replied, shooting one last smile at you before he turned back to the cash register, placed the bills into the right compartments, and walked back to his office.

Taken aback by the elder’s nonchalance, you stood in front of the counter with slightly parted lips until you noticed your best friend’s eyes on you and his silence pulled you back to reality. You turned towards him and raised a brow.

‘What?’

‘He will propose on their anniversary. It’s the kind of thing you’re a sucker for,’ he pointed out, rightfully so. The two of you knew each other for years. He had seen you swooning over cheesy couples on Valentine’s Day, crying because of the sappiest romantic comedies in his Netflix history, and he had witnessed you falling head over heels for fictional characters due to forehead kisses and backhugs.

Getting proposed to on an anniversary? It should have made you weak in the knees.

‘It took me off guard,’ you defended, but one look at your friend’s face was enough to know he didn’t believe you. Stupid Kim Mingyu and his ability to read you like an open book. ‘Just drop it. I’m happy for them.’

Mingyu opened his mouth to tell you something - most probably, to throw a prying question at you because of your behaviour -, but Junhui and Seokmin chose the exact same moment to come up to him and ask him about the cupcakes in the oven, so you used this opportunity to take your leave.

With your lukewarm iced latte, you reminded the boys of your other deliveries, then waved and walked out of the shop. You tried not to think of the lingering awkwardness or your best friend’s worried albeit suspicious eyes on you.

You weren’t ready to acknowledge the elephant in the room. Because once you did, you knew you would need to talk to Hansol about your insecurities, too; and the mere thought of telling him how damn uncertain you were about where your relationship was heading felt too much to handle.

You didn’t want to hurt him.

And you sure as hell didn’t want to suffer the consequences. What if he had broken up with you?

In the next couple of days, you successfully avoided Mingyu’s interrogation. However, it was as clear as day that your thoughts were slowly poisoning your mind. You were stressed, and nothing seemed to be able to soothe your nerves, not even the quality time you spent with the guys.

‘And then Miri threw away the second straw so that we had no other choice but to drink the milkshake with one. She said she saw it in a kdrama, but I called bullshit. I know for a fact that Nam Joohyuk’s character in Weightlifting Fairy Kim Bokjoo got rid of the second drink, not the straw!’ Seungkwan claimed while he recited the happenings of his latest date with his girlfriend. Or was it about his first date with her? You didn’t pay enough attention to tell.

‘You could have asked for an extra straw at the counter. I’m sure they would have given you one for free,’ Chan reasoned; and you nodded along with his words on instinct, although your gaze was stuck on the strawberry-chocolate shortcake on your plate. It had no whipped cream between its layers this time because Mingyu knew you didn’t like its taste, and he had baked a full tray with you in mind.

You wondered whether it was his way of bribing you.

‘You aren’t listening.’ Hansol’s statement came as a whisper, and from the other’s reaction, it was clear that you were the only one who had heard him.

You shrugged and cut off a smaller bite from the dessert with your fork.

‘I’m sure it’s not the only time we will hear about these details,’ you retorted just as quietly.

What you really wanted to say, however, was that you would have loved to go on a date like that. But you couldn’t make yourself say those words even when it was just the two of you, so it was impossible with your friends around. You opted for silence.

Your body tensed when Hansol pulled his chair closer to yours and slid his big palm on your nape. It wasn’t romantic. On the contrary, you had seen him do this numerous times already when one of his closest friends was upset. Yet, the small circles his thumb drew on your skin and his closeness brought you comfort nevertheless.

You let out a sigh and lifted the next bite on your fork in front of his mouth, smiling back at him when he pulled the dessert off of the cutlery with a goofy grin.

He didn’t have to spell it out for you, you could tell from one glance that he wanted you to know that whatever bothered you wasn’t the end of the world. And deep down you knew he was right. Because at moments like this, your doubts were nowhere to be found. You could see yourself in a happy relationship with him for a long, long time.

Taking advantage of your boyfriend’s touchier moments, you sucked in your lower lip and leaned your head on his shoulder. It felt nice when instead of tuning into a stone under you, he adjusted his hand on your nape and held you still with his palm on your side.

‘I’m here,’ he whispered into your hair, making you smile so brightly, not even Seungkwan’s “I know what you’re doing” glances could ruin your mood. You put an end to the younger’s teasing with a pseudo-annoyed eye roll, then shoved a forkful of strawberry shortcake into your mouth and fed Hansol again.

Because seriously, this was all your heart needed to be put at ease. A little bit of affection and a few reassuring words that you weren’t the only one who cared.

The closer Seungcheol and Hoyeon’s anniversary got, the more stressed you became, but because of the current expansion of your clientele, everyone assumed that you were worried about your unusually big orders and how you would complete them in time.

Everyone, except Kim Mingyu.

‘You know I won’t hurt him just because you’re fighting again,’ he said when you walked into the coffee shop’s kitchen after closing time, yet failed to tease him because of the mess he had made with the flour while he had been preparing some overnight dough for the next morning. Keeping eye contact, you raised a brow in question, but remained silent with your shoulder leaned against the wall. You were too tired to make guesses, especially because you were afraid that you would have talked about two different things if you had. ‘Just because most people think I’m a himbo, I’ve got the brains. The proposal. It’s because of him that you’re not as enthusiastic about it as you otherwise would be,’ he gave you context, his tone neutral, but the furrow between his brows screaming concern.

Your shoulders dropped as you sighed. You should have known that he hadn’t forgotten about your awkward reaction to Seungcheol’s invitation.

‘We’re not fighting,’ you stated plainly, because in your dictionary, none of your arguments with Hansol fitted that category. It was never about screaming and putting the blame on each other with him. When your opinions and ideas didn’t match, sooner or later you talked them out calmly, then moved forwards as one. The both of you would have rather given space to the other instead of hurting them with words you didn’t mean. This was why it was so hard to confront him about your recent insecurities. Because the moment you brought them up, he would inevitably get hurt. ‘I just don’t get it.’

You didn’t understand how Seungcheol and Hoyeon were so sure of their relationship or how it could be so different from yours when you loved Hansol just as much. Was it because you spent less time together? But you still saw each other in person at least once or twice a week; and you also had your endless conversations on kakao. He knew more about what was going on in your life than your brother and you lived with the latter.

‘Do you want him to propose, too?’ Your best friend asked, making you choke on air with his question.

‘I thought you said you’re smart,’ you scoffed, unsure whether you should have laughed at him or punched him in the face for assuming something so ridiculous. You might have been a romantic at heart, but you definitely weren’t ready for marriage.

Mingyu rolled his eyes and turned back to his notebook where he jotted down numbers like the amount of cakes and baked goods they had failed to sell that day from each type.

‘Well, you’re confusing,’ he grumped, coaxing a genuine albeit weak chuckle out of you with his childish retort.

To show Mingyu how much you appreciated his friendship, you pushed yourself away from the wall and walked up to the table he was working on. You grabbed a food container and a pair of plastic gloves, then put those desserts in it that he had already counted. You worked in silence for a couple of minutes before he asked:

‘Hey, are you two alright, though?’

Were you? You couldn’t tell for sure. You had little to no relationship experience outside of your current one with Hansol. And while you had heard about your best friend’s girlfriends through the years and you could also see how your friends acted with their significant others around, you were too self-conscious to ask for their advice. Was it normal that you hadn’t kissed your boyfriend since you had confessed? Should you have held hands more? Were you allowed to hug him in public even when it wasn’t him who initiated PDA?

You felt like most high schoolers could have answered these questions, and it was frustrating that unlike them, you couldn’t.

‘He said he’ll walk me home,’ you spoke up eventually, closing another container of sweets in the meantime.

You had come to Coffee Carat after your last delivery because Hansol had wanted to ask for your opinion on the SNS game he had come up with for the coffee shop’s anniversary. The two of you had customised them for different platforms - not just for Instagram, which was his original idea - while you had been munching on brownies; and once you had no more creative energy to spare, you had decided to take a detour to his favourite non-stop vinyl and CD shop a corner from your place. You planned to take notes for future gift ideas since you had already bought him funny socks for his birthday. Buying another pair for Christmas would have been lame.

‘Thanks for the brownies,’ you said when you filled the last container and grabbed one from the top of the pile.

Smiling at the face Mingyu made - he knew you had come to the kitchen because of the free food they gave away to their friends after closing time, you really didn’t understand why he still feigned annoyance whenever you did this -, you patted his shoulder and turned your back to him. You were already near the doorstep when his words reached you and stopped you in the tracks.

‘It’s cliché, but it’s a good one: you should tell him if something’s bothering you,’ he said and you hummed in contemplation.

‘It’s silly,’ you came to the same conclusion again. This resurfacing uncertainty you felt could have easily been only in your head. Was it really worth a confrontation that could lead to you hurting Hansol?

‘No, it’s not. It’s bothering you, so it’s important,’ your best friend claimed, his effort to make you see that you shouldn’t have dealt with your inner struggles alone warming your chest. It meant a lot to you: that he saw your internal conflicts and offered more than just to listen.

You stole a glance at him from above your shoulder and smiled.

‘Good night, Mingyu,’ you said, waving at him with your empty hand until he reciprocated the gesture and wished you the same.

On your way to Hansol, you recalled Mingyu’s advice at least a dozen times, but you failed to muster up your courage. However, you told yourself that it was fine because changing one’s way of thinking was a difficult task.

What mattered was that you felt a bit less hesitant when you thought of confrontation and that you had fun with Hansol on your semi-impromptu date. Success was all about baby steps.

You had never seen as many people at Coffee Carat as many you did on its anniversary; and you had already attended the grand opening a year ago and had many opportunities to see the crowd during holiday seasons and peak times.

Once the initial shock wore off, you fished your phone out of your bag and opened your chat with Hansol so that you could send him a picture of the mass and all those people who had their own portable cup in their hands. It seemed his posts on social media had reached a lot of people this time as well, and you felt really proud of him - and low-key worried about the coffee shop’s daily income, but that was Seungcheol’s problem, not yours. Who had told him to give out free coffee for an entire day to everyone who came by with their own thermos? You could have bet, he hadn’t expected so many participants.

Amused, you stood in the line with your own cup and bought an extra slice of carrot cake to support your friend’s business. It was already past nine thirty, so you hoped you would find someone familiar in the customer area that was in serious lack of empty tables.

‘Chan is in the back with Miri and the ‘95 gang,’ Yeseo informed you with one of her bright smiles as she pointed at tables the guys had pushed together for their enormous group. Now that you were observing them from afar, they didn’t seem that hard to notice.

‘Thank you,’ you replied nevertheless before you took your iced latte from her and grabbed your cake with your other hand.

Anxious wouldn’t have been the best word to describe how you felt while you were walking towards your friends and close acquaintances, but the symptoms were similar. Your heart was beating like crazy and your skin was clammy around your cup. You wished you could have arrived with Hansol, but he was working with Jihoon on something mysterious and you knew better than to disturb those two in the studio. Damned Kim Mingyu and his need to handle the kitchen by himself on such an important day when you knew Seokmin had offered him his help. You would need to talk to Seungcheol and ask him to consider hiring another baker, because your best friend loved his busy job too much to complain to his boss and Seokmin couldn’t work too many days beside his masters. Hell, Mingyu should have finished for the day three hours ago. Actually, he had been supposed to meet you at around five, but all you had gotten were a couple of text messages: a pouty selfie, a cancelled dinner date, and a promised free boba on his next day off.

‘Here! Sit with me,’ you heard Miri call for your name when you were about to take a seat between Chan and Jeonghan. You furrowed your brows in confusion, but complied with her wish nevertheless. ‘Believe me, you’ll thank me later.’

Since you had never hung out with the whole group at once, you weren’t familiar with their different dynamics; thus you chose to accept Miri’s explanation and didn’t ask any questions.

The answer came to you soon after, anyway, in the form of the blonde man’s obsession with their maknae and his failed attempts to make his girlfriend jealous in the process. You didn’t know why he would have assumed that Yoohyeon would be bothered by him calling Chan his baby over and over in front of everyone, because if anyone, it was the young boy who seemed to be on the verge of throwing fists by the time you finished your dessert.

And while you were genuinely worried about Jeonghan’s physical well-being (and Chan’s mental health) at certain points during their conversation, at least time flew faster in their company. You didn’t even have to talk too much to feel included.

Hansol and Jihoon got to the closed shop when the guys finished rearranging the tables that were forming a semicircle in the back of the customer area. A part of you wanted to walk up to them and greet your boyfriend with a peck on his cheek, but you quickly brushed aside the idea because of how many people were waiting for Seungcheol to come out of his office and ask the big question.

Instead, you waved him from beside Miri and Seungkwan, and waited patiently until his steps came to a halt on your side.

‘Did we miss anything important? Agrr, we totally lost track of time, but we finished the first demo of the title track,’ Hansol said, his half-apologetic, half-excited gaze shifting from his best friend to Miri before it landed on you.

‘Nothing important. Hyung is in his office with Hoyeon noona. They should come out soon,’ Seungkwan said at the same time you explained:

‘Seokmin and Joshua are in the kitchen with Mingyu. They’re waiting for Seungcheol’s sign with the shortcakes.’

Right on cue, the love birds walked out from the staff only area, surprise evident on Hoyeon’s face as her lips parted slightly and her eyes grew twice their size. Since you were aware that she had known about the proposal, you had assumed that she had known about the details as well. However, the yelp that left her throat when she noticed Seungcheol on his knee made it obvious that she wasn’t expecting anything.

‘Hoyeon-ah…’

‘Yes! Oh my God, Cheol! Yes, I’ll marry you,’ Hoyeon exclaimed before she dropped on her knees in excitement and wrapped her hands around her boyfriend’s neck. The sight was truly heart-warming.

‘Yah! Honey, I had a whole speech. Why are you like this?’ Seungcheol whined, lips pouty, but arms firm around his lover. It was clear even from a distance that he was too content to be upset about the girl’s unexpected reaction, which meant that the guys could finally bring in the dessert.

As you watched Seungcheol while he put the engagement ring on his girlfriend’s finger, you joined the rest of your friends and clapped your hand enthusiastically, giggling at the hollers and ridiculous good-luck wishes that filled the atmosphere. You were happy to be present in their lives at such an important moment and made a mental note to compensate Seungcheol for your initial reaction. After today, you knew he wouldn’t have refused to receive an extra sack of roasted coffee beans for free when you delivered his next order.

Trying not to be the first person who jumped on the shortcakes, you waited patiently for the others to walk up to the counter, then pulled on Hansol’s hoodie to urge him to move.

‘Congratulations,’ you smiled at the happy couple as soon as you got near them, then pulled them in an awkward semi-hug to whisper your own wishes in their ears. You wanted them to be happy and live a long and healthy life. You were a cliche romance book on two legs; you told everything to them that old people told young couples in love.

‘Thank you. We’re happy you came,’ Seungcheol said as soon as he pulled away, then ruffled your hair with affection and gave more space to his fiancée to do the same. They were so touchy, you once again wondered whether this was what was missing from your relationship with Hansol.

You quickly brushed aside the idea before it could have ruined your mood. This night wasn’t about you or your boyfriend. It was about your friends and their future life together.

But then, when you finally reached the counter, you noticed how every couple in the coffee shop looked cosy in each other’s company. Even Minghao’s arms were hanging around his girlfriend’s frame while they were talking with Jun and munching on their separate desserts. Was it so bad that you wanted the same?

Sure, you understood that Hansol wasn’t a big fan of PDA - and honestly, you weren’t, either -, but he had his moments, too, when he nuzzled closer to you in public and tonight was a big step in your friends’ life. The lingering mood around you was more romantic than on any Valentine’s Day or White Day could have been (holidays that were supposed to celebrate love yet you had willingly skipped both to not come off as too pushy).

You refused to believe you couldn’t have a cute relationship, too. Therefore, when you saw Seungkwan stealing another kiss from Miri’s whipped cream-coated lips, you decided to be a little braver and stood on your tiptoes to press a chaste peck on Hansol’s cheek.

Pulling away, there were a couple of scenarios in your head that you expected. The hopeless romantic in you anticipated a cheek or forehead kiss in return; the pessimist thought he would lean down to your ear and ask you whether everything was alright; a realistic part of you was sure he would turn into a blushing statue and completely forget to react in any other way.

As you were fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, you came to the conclusion that the third and most likely option wasn’t so bad after all, but then your boyfriend turned towards you with his entire body and the look on his face tugged on your organs; you felt nauseous.

‘Why did you do that?’ He asked, genuine confusion lacing his words. He had looked exactly the same when you had won him a keychain with the claw machine on your second date on your first try. The memory would have made you smile on any other day, but this time, your lips were pressed together into a pale, firm line.

‘What do you mean, why? Because I’m your girlfriend?’ You retorted, cheeks a few shades darker because of the sudden attention the ones nearest to you gave you. You hated how your statement sounded more like a question, but what had been done had already been done. You had to deal with it like an adult.

Hansol tilted his head and narrowed his eyes with a hint of a smile in the corner of his mouth. It was a facial expression you were familiar with, yet it brought you no comfort. You wished you could have backed out of the situation before the inevitable happened, but one look at the playfulness in his eyes was enough to make you realise: it was too late.

‘Since when?’ He asked, triggering your deepest insecurities with his careless question. You knew he didn’t know about your fears regarding your relationship. You also knew that it had been you who had decided to keep them a secret. However, his inconsideration didn’t hurt less from the additional knowledge.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes as some sort of defence mechanism. If he wanted to make a joke of your relationship in front of your friends, you could join in the fun. You could keep pretending for a little longer that it wasn’t a big deal.

You would need to talk to Hansol about your doubts in private, though. Because Mingyu was right, it was long overdue. You should have never let things get this far. It didn’t matter that you hated confrontation so much, the mere idea made you nervous.

‘Very funny, Hansol. Since your birthday, obviously,’ you replied with pseudo-nonchalance while you reached out for another shortcake just to do something, anything other than staring at him with your limbs frozen. You felt utterly pathetic.

The situation got more embarrassing when you took a small bite from the delicious dessert and noticed the heavy silence that fell on your group. It wasn’t only your closest friends who were paying attention to your conversation anymore; it was everyone except Yeseo who was sleeping with her head on her boyfriend’s shoulder and Yoohyeon who was casually sipping on her black coffee next to them.

You clenched your jaw when your gaze met your best friend’s, then turned to your boyfriend, irritated. You were angry with him because he had chosen the worst reaction to your cheek kiss. But you were also angry with yourself because you should have known better than to press your lips against his skin in front of everyone.

‘What?’ You spat, pale fingers squeezing the shortcake too much to not leave a mess on your hand.

Hansol’s face was expressive. You could pinpoint the exact moment the seriousness of your conversation hit him just by looking at it. You couldn’t decide who you should have felt more sorry for: him or yourself.

‘Wait! Are you serious?’ He asked, eyebrows furrowed and movements uncertain. Hansol’s arms fell back by his sides with a half-eaten shortcake in his dominant hand, while his right leg jerked eagerly, but didn’t move forward to lessen the distance between the two of you.

Staring at him, all you could think about was: damn, this idiot got both the look and the talent to become an actor.

‘No one’s laughing, Hansol. Quit it!’ You reprimanded, not understanding his purpose. What did he want to gain with this nonsense? You could have seen the reasons behind his actions if anyone had found his performance funny, but based on the deafening silence, they were just as dumbfounded as you. (Although you were too afraid to meet their eyes to check it. What if they were all grinning and smiling at your misery because it was a prank?)

You would have never thought that you would have ever wished to be pranked as much as you did when you noticed the undeniable seriousness in your boyfriend’s chocolate orbs. His lingering gaze closed your windpipe; you felt dizzy as though there wasn’t enough oxygen in the coffee shop to keep you alive.

‘Do you not remember when I confessed? Our first kiss right after?’ You asked urgently. You couldn’t shake off the feeling that you were running out of time. Your boyfriend was looking at you like you were speaking a different language. You swallowed the bile in your throat and balled your empty fist. You couldn’t believe it… this wasn’t happening. It couldn’t. ‘We fell asleep cuddling!’ You claimed desperately, panic evident in your voice.

‘I’m… I…’

‘Oh my God! Are you kidding me right now?’ You were laughing hysterically at that point. It didn’t take too long for your chuckles to turn into quiet sobs. You couldn’t cry, not in front of so many people, but this just made you more frustrated.

By then, your nails had dug tiny, crescent-shaped holes into your palm and the shortcake in your other hand. Both of your arms were trembling slightly and your heart was beating so frantically, you felt your pulse in your whole body. You were an idiot. You were delusional. And on top of these, everyone in your friend group became aware of your ridiculousness on the same night you did.

You had never felt so humiliated in your life and you were best friends with Kim Mingyu. He had given you secondhand-embarrassment in public so many times since university that you didn’t have enough fingers to count them all.

You felt your best friend’s presence before you caught a glimpse at him in your periphery, but you were too upset to find comfort in his hand on your shoulder blade. If anything, it blurred your vision and urged your tears to run down your crimson cheeks. So you pushed him away and shut out your surroundings as much as you could. You needed to grab your jacket and backpack before you left. You couldn’t use public transportation or enter your place without your card and keys.

You had to get your jacket. You needed your backpack. Then, you could finally, finally walk out of this hell.

You were already at the chair where you had left your belongings when your boyfr… when Hansol got himself out of his stupor and marched up to you.

‘Wait! Please, it’s not that I don’t like you. I just thought… so I thought that Seungkwan was teasing me whenever he called you my girlfriend,’ he pleaded, making you wonder whether he realised the damage he was doing with his clumsy excuse. He phrased his words so poorly, it caused you physical pain to listen to him.

He might have thought he liked you; maybe he did like you to an extent. However, he had no idea how much he hurt you in the process and you were at your limits.

You scoffed with the intent to mock. As much as you loved him, you wished you could stop caring so much, because it was draining. You were sure you would need days if not weeks to recover from this disaster.

‘Amazing, Hansol. Very comforting, really. Just what I needed to not feel like a fucking joke anymore,’ you groaned as you secured your trembling fingers around your belongings and pushed the boy out of your way.

You didn’t bother to bid your goodbye to anyone; you didn’t even realise that you were still holding onto your half-eaten shortcake until you opened the door and the creamy dessert collided with the handle.

You power walked towards the subway station as though you were afraid that Hansol would follow you; in reality, you knew damn well he wouldn’t.

If it wasn’t for Kim Mingyu’s long legs and sheer determination, no one would have been able to catch up with you before you disappeared at the underground station. But with him as your best friend, you didn’t have to be alone amongst hundreds of people when the first tears ran down your cheeks. He held you against his chest and stroked your hair gently even when you tried to push him away.

That night, Mingyu took you back to his apartment after you admitted you didn’t want to face your brother and his girlfriend in such a messy state. He helped you wash your hand in his kitchen and fed you with warm pasta before he deliberately took the couch and let you sleep in his bed.

If it had been up to you, you would have avoided Coffee Carat and its vicinity just as eagerly as you were still avoiding your friends’ texts and phone calls since that disastrous anniversary afterparty, but life didn’t work like that. You had a job, you had a loyal clientele you couldn’t afford to lose, and you needed money to pay your bills just like everybody else.

Three days after the worst day of your life, these were the main reasons why you showed up at the coffee shop exactly one hour before opening time. You were sweating like crazy, your lower lip hurt from the intense amount of chewing you had built into your daily routine in the past few days, and your weak heart almost fell into your stomach when your gaze landed on Seungcheol who was checking the amount of change in the cash register with the same ease he did it almost every day. (When he stayed until closing time, he usually arrived at the shop later, thus this task was entrusted to the place’s manager, Wonwoo.)

‘Morning,’ you broke the awkward silence with a more awkward greeting, unable to hold eye contact with your friend despite his smile that was devoid of pity. He acted as though that night had never happened and while you were grateful for his consideration, you didn’t know what to do with it. You had thought he would be different.

Once again, you felt ashamed because of an assumption you should have never made. Would you ever learn the lesson?

‘Good morning!’ He reciprocated your greeting as he placed a cup of iced latte on the counter and tilted his head in the kitchen’s direction. ‘Mingyu came in early to try this new brownie recipe he got from his grandma. He asked me to tell you, he needs you to taste test them,’ he informed you with another warm smile before he gave you the needed space and turned back to the cash register.

There were no words descriptive enough to convey how grateful you were for these amazing people in your life. But you were too scarred to initiate a hug because an unreasonable part of you blamed everything miserable in your life on PDA. Obviously, you knew that Mingyu’s cuddles and Seungkwan’s hugs had done nothing wrong, but you wanted to refrain from both and more in the near future. Just until you got over the phantom feeling of public humiliation. Just until you could laugh at the memory without a knot in your throat.

‘Thank you, Seungcheol,’ you mumbled bashfully once your steps came to a halt in front of the counter and you could wrap your fingers around your favourite cold beverage.

You were aware that Mingyu’s grandma was an amazing baker; you also knew that she was pretty secretive when it came to her recipes. Sipping on your drink, you wondered what had your best friend done to persuade the old woman to give away something so valuable to her. Had he finally agreed to go on a date with one of her friends’ single granddaughter?

This thought made you snort. Mingyu hated blind dates more than he hated burnt cupcakes. And last time you had taken over his kitchen, he had refused to try yours even though they were only slightly overbaked.

‘Hm, they smell delicious. Did you sell your soul for the recipe?’ You entered the kitchen in a lighter mood, making a mental note to answer a few of those messages you had received from your friends now that you knew they didn’t necessarily look at you differently because of what had happened. So what if you had been in an imaginary relationship for half a year with their other friend? It didn’t mean you were less.

None of them was insensitive enough to imply you were a delulu, right? Right. Still, if they had done so, you could have always revoked their friendship card. Losing them would have surely hurt, but you didn’t need people in your life who judged you for an honest mistake. No matter how stupid that mistake was.

‘No,’ Mingyu protested immediately, teeth sinking into his lower lip in concentration. Your best friend bent over the brownies like he was decorating those desserts in the lovely yet messy home of the seven dwarfs, but you found him too endearing to tease him for it. You also loved brownies with all your heart. ‘But I told grams about your horrendous break-up and she made me promise I would bake you a tray from all your favourites,’ he confessed, shooting an apologetic smile in your direction when your eyes narrowed in on him.

‘Good to know your high morals have nothing against taking advantage of your best friend’s misfortune,’ you grumped, contemplating whether you should have thrown hands or stolen a full tray of chocolate brownies as compensation.

The closer you walked to the traitor, the more you salivated because of the heavenly smell of sugar and cocoa powder.

‘Don’t act like you wouldn’t kill for her brownies. Or her muffins. Or her cinnamon cookies,’ he retorted with an affectionate eye roll before he pushed a decorated slice in your mouth.

Munching and humming like a happy chipmunk, you lifted your hands in surrender. Mingyu was right. If you had known this was all his grandma needed to share her secrets, you would have broken your own heart years ago. These were luscious.

Since you had some time on your hands before your next delivery and the guys usually took care of the boxes in the trunk, you decided to wait for the next tray that was still in the oven, thus you took a seat by the table Mingyu was working on. You even offered your help with the icing, but he called you talentless and lacking a better argument, you darted your tongue out as a response.

It was like any other morning at Coffee Carat with Kim Mingyu, which lulled you into a fake sense of security. His stupid comments on your sweet tooth and unusual willingness to avoid the Hansol topic tore down those walls that had been guarding you in the past days and made you completely vulnerable to said boy’s soft knocks on the door frame.

At first, you thought it was Seungkwan or Junhui and that they were looking for either of you because of the supplies they had to carry to the storage room, but when the repetitive sounds were followed by silence and you snapped your head towards the newcomer, you wished you wouldn’t have been stuck in a room with only one exit: the same one Hansol was currently blocking with his body.

You swallowed the brownie in your mouth and turned back to your best friend with pleading eyes. However, Kim Mingyu’s gaze was suspiciously focused on an already decorated piece of dessert and the yellow icing he was still pressing atop of the poor cupcake.

‘Traitor,’ you spat, tempted to reach out for your iced latte just to pour the rest on the top of his head, but that would have caused a big mess and you didn’t want your clumsy (ex-)friend to die after slipping on a small pond of coffee in his beloved kitchen.

Left with an ugly scar after the last time you had confronted someone, you soon came to the conclusion that you weren’t ready for another fight. Hence, you grabbed your iced latte a bit too firmly and marched towards the door with your eyes fixed on the floor. You knew Hansol, he wouldn’t corner you against your will. He would let you leave.

You needed him to let you leave. But he didn’t.

‘Could we talk?’ The boy asked when your shoulder bumped into his and your steps came to an abrupt halt. You frowned; you clearly didn’t know him well enough.

‘What’s there to talk about? I have nothing more to say to you,’ you retorted with the intent to put an end to your conversation as soon as possible. Out of the two of you it might have been you who were older, but you were still allowed to act immature sometimes, weren’t you? You might have been the one who had misunderstood the nature of your relationship, but he had been the one who had made a joke of your assumption in front of everyone. In your opinion, your defensive reaction was justified.

‘Then could you just listen? I have a lot to say actually,’ Hansol pleaded, his lost puppy eyes playing on your heartstrings. It was unfair: the effect he had on you after everything.

Your fingers turned pale around the plastic cup in your hand. It had been easier to ignore him when he had been calling and sending you texts about how sorry he was. Now, with his body mere millimetres from yours, you felt rather conflicted. Should you have listened? Should you have denied his request? If you had been in his shoes, your thoughts would have driven you nuts if you couldn’t have spoken your mind.

You let out a defeated sigh.

‘Two minutes. And we will talk outside. I don’t want this traitor to eavesdrop. He might sell any information for a bag of sour gummy bears,’ you gave an ultimate, coaxing a scoff out of Mingyu with your ridiculous answer.

‘Rude,’ your best friend groaned, but you just shrugged. Sure, it was a low blow, but it was well-deserved.

Hansol took a small step to the left to let you show him the way and you led him to the back of the customer area where you took a seat at a random table close to the coffee bean stickers. From there, you could see the guys carrying the boxes and sacks you had brought, but to your luck, no one was paying attention to you, thus your heart had one less reason to worry about. Not that Hansol’s closeness didn’t affect its speed already. God. You could feel its drumming in your ears, which meant they must have been rose-coloured and warm all because of him.

You took a sip from your lukewarm drink to calm yourself down and waited for him to speak first. After all, he had said, he had a lot of things to talk about.

‘What I really, really need you to know is that I have the fattest crush on you since Mingyu hyung introduced us to each other,’ he started after a couple of deeper breaths and a destroyed napkin whose remains were scattered on the table in front of him.

Just like you had said, you had nothing more to add to his confession, but you didn’t stand up and leave, either. How could you have when Hansol shot a sheepish smile at you right before you could have averted your eyes, then parted his lips to tell you everything while you were still there, willing to listen?

Scratching his nape due to what you assumed was discomfort, he told you that he had really thought he hadn’t stood a chance. He also admitted that he cared about you a whole lot and that he wanted to be with you. He had apologised for that night and his unacceptable reaction to your cheek kiss, then spelt it out to you how dense he could have been sometimes, which you had acknowledged with an (affectionate) eye roll. You had kind of figured that one out. But you guessed, you weren’t much better, either.

‘If you’re okay with that, I would like to give us another try, a real one this time,’ Hansol said with his beautiful, hopeful eyes on you. Your cheeks were beet red even before he added with more confidence: ‘I don’t want to lose you.’

You were at a loss for words. While deep in your heart you knew, your love for Hansol hadn’t disappeared from one week to another, you were reluctant to jump into a relationship with him when you were still licking your wounds after your - lack of a better word - break-up.

‘I…’ you were struggling to express your thoughts despite the lesson you had learned about the importance of honesty. Your urge to avoid hurting him was too strong; it restricted you when you should have been straightforward.

‘She doesn’t want to lose you, either. Come on! Tell him you don’t,’ you heard Seungkwan say from behind your back, making you curse under your nose as you turned around to see the blonde barista wiping the non-existent dirt off a table. You narrowed your eyes and zeroed in on his know-it-all smile, contemplating whether it had been a wise idea to become friends with someone as gossipy as Kim Mingyu. The mere fact that it was already the third time that morning that you had questioned your life decisions couldn’t have meant anything good.

‘What the hell? Did Mingyu tell you something? Because he’s lying and…’

‘He didn’t have to tell me anything, noona. You make it painfully obvious,’ Seungkwan said with his hands on his hips, clearly disappointed in your reaction. You couldn’t hold eye contact with him for longer than a couple of seconds.

You knew Hansol was the barista’s best friend; you also knew that they both cared about each other a lot, so you didn’t blame him for taking the current situation personally. But you found the call-out unfair because it should have been you who understood your feelings the most. It should have been you who answered Hansol’s question regardless of how much time it took you to decipher your own fuzzy mind.

You turned back ahead and buried your face in your hands with a groan. You were hopeless; you couldn’t even tell Seungkwan to mind his own business. How were you supposed to deal with someone who was a whole other level of important in your life? You wished your best friend had told you the secret of how he had managed to crack your shell. How had Mingyu managed to make you feel comfortable enough to curse at him openly?

Disappointed in yourself, your shoulders tensed when someone touched your hand, although you relaxed a little almost immediately when you realised that it was Hansol. The boy tapped your knuckles with his fingertips like he was playing on a piano and made you look at him without saying a word, because it was soothing. When your eyes met, the apologetic smile on his face was hopeful and the sight of it tugged the corner of your lips upwards.

‘Would you go on a date with me?’ He asked, his pseudo-confidence amusing and touching at the same time. ‘We could start it with something mundane if you’re not ready for fancy stuff. I could tag along today. We could grab lunch together and I could make the boring car rides more fun,’ he offered.

The two of you had never done anything fancy together. Your most romantic date had been a night in with a sappy movie playing on your laptop and hot cocoa in your hands despite the scorchingly hot summer and your broken AC. Although, you reminded yourself, neither of your previous dates had been dates for him. He could have easily been a whole different type of boyfriend in real life than how he lived in your mind.

It was on the tip of your tongue: the objection that no one had said those rides were boring, but then you remembered complaining about them to him and sighed. You couldn’t deny the warmth you felt at the realisation that he paid attention to you.

‘Fine,’ you agreed quietly, cheeks rosy because he was still holding onto your hand. It made you wonder whether his dislike for PDA had been all in your head because of the distance he had kept from you while you had been convinced you had been in a relationship. You made a mental note to ask him about this - and a couple of other stuff like those dates he would have liked to go on and his thoughts on couple holidays - when his best friend wasn’t staring holes in the back of your head.

After you gave in, Hansol couldn’t stop smiling and honestly, neither could you. You didn’t hide how excited you were about your day together, but after a couple of silent seconds and a nervous gulp, you made an effort to tell him about your worries, too. For the first time since you had confessed on his birthday, you were completely honest and he took it surprisingly well.

While you finished your iced latte, he reassured you that you didn’t have to call any of your dates a date or refer to him as your boyfriend if these labels burdened you. Although his hand was still on yours, he asked for permission to keep holding it, to hug you in the future and to kiss the top of your head or your cheek if the moment felt right.

Listening to those things he wanted to do with you in public and private, you looked at his fingers while they were drawing absentminded circles and eights on your palm and thought: maybe falling for someone like Hansol Vernon Chwe hadn’t been a mistake. Mistakes were when you had kept your doubts to yourself and assumed he had known what had been going on in your mind. The mistake was not talking about issues that needed to be talked about.

One look at his goofy smile and the light blush on his neck was enough for you to know: you would do everything in your power to not make the same mistakes again. Confrontations might have scared you, but losing him was scarier.

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#seventeen scenarios #caratwritersclub #vernon x reader #vernon x you #hansol x reader #hansol x you #vernon #hansol vernon chwe #ssbyme #seventeen series #angst #coffee shop au

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