#staring at the muse for the entire week and it took until tonight to actually find something that i liked and felt fitting

[unorcadox]

i'm gonna be real i have been struggling to edit recently and i can't tell if i'm just finally hitting burnout after 3 fucking years or if i'm just too busy to settle into the groove. hoping it's the latter

[hpimaginesandblurbs]

hear me out: Harry x fem!reader x Cedric…

Like Harry let’s it slip he has a little crush on cedric and you mention the possibility of a threesome and they’re totally down (watching Cedric fuck Harry … omfg)

pairing(s): reader x harry potter x cedric diggory

word count: 1.7k

warning(s): 18+, mmf, threesome, anal sex, oral (female receiving)

“So, I have a surprise for you,” you told Harry as you slowly approached your bedroom.

You could feel the nerves fluttering in your chest as you looked up at him. What if he hated the idea? What if he was embarrassed? What if he never forgave you?

But you knew your boyfriend well and you could only hope that he gave you the reaction you anticipated when you formed this little plan. It was no secret that Harry was bisexual, and a few weeks ago he had finally spilled that he had always harbored a small crush on one of your best friends, Cedric Diggory, all throughout school and into adulthood. You couldn’t deny that Cedric was handsome, so you had called in a small favor. That favor was currently waiting for the two of you behind the door.

When Harry gave you a nudge to continue, you took a deep breath and pressed on.

“Remember a few weeks ago when you told me you had a crush on Cedric? And that you’d like to have him in bed?” You asked, having no other way to broach the subject.

“Yeah?” Harry replied, still clearly confused as to why you were both still standing outside of your bedroom door having this conversation.

“Well, and you can totally say no if you want, but I told him and he would also very much like that. He’s in there right now. I can tell him to go home if you don’t want to though,” you half explained, half rambled.

Throughout the entire spiel, Harry grew redder and redder. You weren’t sure if it was from embarrassment or arousal until he looked at you. His green eyes were already dark with lust at the thought.

“You’re serious?” He asked, still a bit baffled that this was actually happening.

“Very. Now would you like to go inside, or…?” You trailed off, purposefully leaving it open ended so Harry had an out if he wanted to.

But no, your brave little Gryffindor immediately opened the door and strode inside. You followed a step behind him, anticipation swirling in your gut at what was about to happen. You stumbled upon the two most important men in your life seemingly having a conversation with just their eyes, assessing each other openly.

It didn’t take long until Cedric stood up from the bed and crashed his lips onto Harry’s, the pair of them moaning at the contact as you watched on. You had never considered yourself a voyeur, but watching the pair of them locked together like that, their hands roaming the others body, was making you incredibly wet.

When they finally broke apart, Cedric looked at Harry for a long moment before asking, “Has anyone ever fucked you, Harry?”

Despite the blush forming on his cheeks, Harry shot you a quick glance before answering. “Not by another man.”

Upon receiving that answer, Cedric shot you a satisfactory look that went directly towards your clit. “I see,” he said slowly, holding your gaze before turning back to Harry. “Would you like me to?” He asked, his hands never once leaving Harry’s fit build.

“Y-yes,” Harry stuttered out, and you could see him growing harder in his trousers by the second.

“Strip and get on the bed for me, alright?”

When Harry gave a shaky nod and got to work, Cedric made his way over to you.

“He’s delightfully responsive. You didn’t tell me that,” Cedric said, just low enough that Harry would have to strain to hear from where he was across the room.

“Figured I’d give you a nice surprise to make this worth your while,” you grinned at him, the both of you casting predatory glances at Harry as he continued to strip.

“This is more than worth it, trust me,” Cedric mused, his gaze slowly turning back to you. “And where would you like to be in all of this?”

“I’ve been content to watch, but I wouldn’t oppose whatever you have in mind,” you replied coyly, already knowing your best friend had a plan brewing.

“Well then, you should strip too,” he said with a wink before walking back over to Harry who was lying on his stomach on the bed.

You stripped dutifully, your core aching as you watched Cedric tease your boyfriend as he got him into the position he wanted him - on his knees with his arse perched deliciously in the air, completely exposed to both of your gazes.

“Fuck, he’s beautiful,” Cedric said to you, but his eyes didn’t leave Harry’s body once.

You watched as Harry started to squirm, unsure what to do when so openly exposed like this. You rarely left your boyfriend guessing in the bedroom, so you jumped into his rescue.

“Don’t ignore him, Ced,” you chided playfully, but by the way Cedric immediately put his hands on Harry’s waist, you knew he knew you were serious.

Once you were just as bare as your boyfriend, you climbed on the bed in front of him. You spread your legs so they were bracketing his body, exposing your dripping cunt to both men in the process. They let out twin groans as they watched you, Harry’s cock twitching between his legs.

Without a second thought, you ran your fingers through Harry’s hair until you had a handful and tugged his face towards your core, an obvious demand. He shot you a grin before diving towards you, his tongue readily running up your slit and teasing your clit.

“Go slow. I don’t want to cum until you do,” you told him, your hand leisurely running through his hair as he slowed his pace.

Once Cedric knew the both of you were situated, he made quick work of opening Harry up for him with his fingers. Every moan that spilled out of Harry vibrated through your core, making you dripping wet by the time Cedric took his cock out. Harry’s shiver of anticipation when he felt Cedric at his entrance was unmistakable, and you knew none of you would last long once Cedric started to fuck him.

“Do you want him to fuck you or are you happy with his mouth?” Cedric asked, his voice an octave lower since the last time he spoke, every move he made now driven by lust.

“He’s doing wonders with his mouth,” you said, stroking Harry’s again. “Besides, I think the both of us at once would be too much for him this time.”

Harry was so wrapped up in pleasuring you and shamelessly rocking his arse back against Cedric that he missed your subtle hint that this would not be the only time Cedric would make an appearance in your bedroom. But your best friend looked at you with a twinkle in his eye as he started pushing into Harry that he liked your idea just fine.

You watched as Cedric took Harry. Your boyfriend had to pull away from you for a moment as he adjusted, moans and whimpers spilling out of his mouth as Cedric worked every inch of himself inside of Harry’s tight hole. When you looked down at him, he looked the most fucked out he had ever been and then some, his whole body high strung as Cedric started rolling his hips in slow increments.

“Better not leave the lady waiting,” Cedric said as he bent down to talk lowly in Harry’s ear, shooting you a wink over his shoulder.

Once Harry got his mouth back on you, his movements were not what you had expected. In the heat of the moment you had anticipated him to be sloppy, slow, subdued. You had not anticipated him to be purposefully breaking you apart piece by piece as you watched him get beautifully fucked by your best friend.

The pair of them moved in perfect harmony as you all climbed closer and closer to the edge, a cacophony of moans engulfing the room.

“Fuck, I can feel how close you are, Harry,” Cedric moaned, his pace only growing harder and harder as time went on. “Cum for us.”

You watched as your boyfriend shook and collapsed after one, two, three more steady thrusts from Cedric before meeting his release, rope after rope of cum falling onto the bed as Cedric fucked him through it. Despite Harry’s now unsteady tongue, you fell over the edge just watching him, your own series of moans falling from your lips as you stared transfixed at the sight before you. Cedric came with a groan, buried deep inside of Harry as he released. Harry shuddered at the feeling, blissed out beyond belief between your two bodies.

You settled yourself on the bed as you watched them recover. Cedric was first, and he easily moved Harry up the bed and into your arms, Harry’s head laid on your chest. Hesitantly, Cedric laid down on the other side of Harry and curled his body around your boyfriends, the three of you content to lay in silence for the time being.

“How was that?” You finally asked, breaking the silence with your direct question to Harry. You had been stroking his hair and face, soothing him and waiting for his breathing to even out in the aftermath of his climax.

Harry pulled back slightly to look at you and you were almost ready to go again just at the sight of him. His skin was still flushed and everything about him screamed ‘fucked out’.

“It was incredible,” he said softly, almost hesitantly.

“What’s going through that pretty head of yours?” You asked with a small smile, already knowing exactly what he wanted.

“Well, I just,” he paused and slowly turned his head to look at Cedric. “Are you staying tonight?”

“Would you like me to?”

“Please,” Harry answered, his cheeks turning a delightful shade of pink at how desperate he was being.

But both you and Cedric gave him a fond smile and snuggled closer towards him. Harry responded with his own smile, and finally content in between your bodies, his breathing started to deepen as he drifted off to sleep. Over his head, you and Cedric shared a meaningful glace, one full of promise and anticipation for future nights spent just like this.

[talkfantasytome]

A holiday Nessian prompt for you if you please: 'I work at the local library and I’m trying to put up all the decorations myself, but I fell off the ladder trying to hang up the garland and you caught me.' 🎄⛄💕💕

So sweet. 🥺🥺

I wasn't planning on doing this one today, but I started it while waiting at the vet and in between when he'd be in and out. Trying to be one of the cool kids that can bust out dribbles super fast...I am not one of those cool kids. 👀 But, when I got home I just had to finish it. XD At least now it gets a graphic, too.

Nesta's in the midst of decorating the library when one of the library's newest members comes in.

Warnings: None | Word Count: 1,007 | Nessian Masterlist

"He's here again."

"Who?" Nesta asked, not even bothering to look at Gwyn.

Gwyn huffed out a sigh. "That guy! You know, superhero tall and strong, gorgeous, totally in love with you."

She felt herself pause, a pit expanding in her gut as butterflies flapped around it. Cassian.

She was all too aware of Cassian. He came to the library a few weeks before to get out some specific book. Nesta checked him out that night, which took longer than normal because he had to sign up for the membership first so they could keep the record. At the end of the conversation she'd suggested he try and find a reason to use it. He told her he already had.

Sure enough, he was back every few days after that.

"He's not in love with me," Nesta argued, rolling her eyes and raising her chin to hide the nerves. "Hand me that garland?"

Nesta held out her hand, clasping it around the fine, prickly, fake pine needles once she felt them.

"You're so in denial. Half the time he doesn't even check out a book. He just pretends to browse and then chats you up for fifteen minutes."

She tried not to smile at the comment. Not that it was new information. Nesta hadn't missed that little fact, she just didn't want Gwyn to know she might like it.

"Maybe he doesn't know how to read." She draped some of the garland over the nail that was already set into the shelf. Years of librarians hanging garlands meant Nesta luckily didn't have to bother with any actual tools.

"You're hopeless. I swear, one da- shit, he's coming!"

Nesta looked down to see Gwyn bolting away. She shook her head and went back to her task, finding the next nail to drape more garland on.

"Getting the books into the holiday spirit?" a low voice mused.

Nesta didn't have to turn to know who was standing there. Not as her heart skipped a beat at the gruff timbre. She took in a deep breath, trying to calm the buzzing she felt beneath her skin.

After a moment, she faced him, putting on a soft, indifferent smile. "Don't they deserve to celebrate as much as we do?"

"I'm sure you'd say they deserve it more," he chuckled, the sound cascading across Nesta's body like a gentle wave.

"I wouldn't be wrong."

She finally let herself look, her eyes meeting his hazel stare instantly, like murky brown waters that draw you in with their mystery, only to trap you in them.

He smiled up at her, his face lightening with it. "Can I help you with the decorating?"

Nesta pursed her lips for a moment. "I could use a push to the left to get the last of this garland strung." His smile widened and he did as requested, pushing the rolling ladder over a bit until she was at an uncovered section of the book shelf.

"So, do you have any plans tonight?" he asked as Nesta worked to hang the string of pine and lights over the one of the last nails.

Her mind on the decorations, she mindlessly replied, "I don't think so."

"Great!" he exclaimed, as loudly as he could while still whispering. She was just reaching with her left hand to get to the last nail, pushing herself onto her toes when he added, "Would you like to have dinner with me?"

Her entire body froze and twitched in shock all at once, her balance lost on the slick ladder. Before she knew what was happening she was falling backwards, too far gone to grab on to the ladder and hold herself steady. Yet her feet were still touching the rung when she halted, a heat radiating off of whatever she was suddenly curled against.

Nesta looked up into those same eyes, gold flecks sparkling in the fairy lights from the garland. He held her gently, but with enough strength that Nesta knew she was safe in his arms.

"Are you always such an overachiever?" he teased, laughing at the joke in his head. "I wasn't going to ask you to fall for me until at least our second date."

Her breathing heavy, Nesta could barely find the words, her voice. "I didn't even say yes, yet."

His lips curved upward again, dimples appearing by the right corner. "That doesn't mean I'm not already hoping for a second."

He finally let her down, setting her feet on the ground but keeping and arm around her waist for support until she found her footing.

"And planning for one, it seems," Nesta shot back, her gaze never leaving his.

"And a third, and a fourth, and a fifth," he agreed, stepping her back until she was flush against the shelf.

Nesta inhaled sharply at the impact, at how his scent of embers and a winter's breeze enveloped her entirely as he braced a hand by her head. "My, you seem to have me booked for quite a few weeks."

He twitched his head to the left slightly, as if to say 'sort of'. "If you'll let me."

"I think we should just start with the one, and not get ahead of ourselves."

His stare twinkled with something Nesta couldn't quite read. "Way too late for that."

He leaned in slowly and Nesta felt her breath completely leave her body. She braced herself, something throbbing within her, ready for the kiss to come, even as she tried to look like she hadn't imagined it every night since that first time he came into the library. But his lips never found hers.

Instead, they rested by her ear, hot air blowing lightly against the ridge of it.

"I'll pick you up from here at seven," he whispered, his voice rough in a way that had Nesta quivering.

He left a single kiss on Nesta's neck, just beneath her ear, and then strode away. Leaving Nesta against the shelf, attempting to pick up whatever pieces of herself had been scattered about.

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[writing-blog-iguess]

Hi, can I request a fluff and angst fanfic about Damian x female reader? In which they're into an engagement mainly for business, but Y/N was insecure about it because she's a chubby cinnamon roll (which she didn't realise at all), and she felt left out by the entire Bat family. And so, during a true or dare between entire Batfam and their friends, Jon asked for Damian's type and he reply almost like a hint about Y/N, leaving his teammates wanting to see Y/N. They did later saw her, but somehow one of them said they didn't know Damian would fall into love with this kind of girl, which hurt Y/N unconsciouy and she ended up wanting to end the engagement. Damian chased after her and calm her down with Harley and Ivy Poison stop by and scolding the entire Batfam and League of how much they made their little angel felt leftout and threaten dear Robin that they would hunt him down if he's not gonna say anything clearly!!! AHHHHHH!!!!!!!! I really like Harley Quinn and Ivy Poison!!!!

I'm so sorry for how long this took me, but I couldn't stop thinking about it when I read this request! Anyways, I hope this is what you were looking for and I hope you enjoy it!

Life wasn’t fair, she knew this. Had known this as she grew up. But there was a small part of her that hoped that life would go her way once she was old enough to make her own choices.

But that hope was stomped down when she started high school and her parents planned out her future. The only good thing she got out of it, was that she was allowed to pick her minor when it was time to start university.

Throughout the years, she avoided the questions from the press and her friends when she suddenly became friends with Damian Wayne. The only ones to know about the arranged marriage between the two, were her family and the Wayne’s.

It was in an agreement that when they finished school, they would announce their engagement.

There was nothing wrong with it, but as she started to get to know the Wayne’s, she felt a little out of place. Like there was an inside joke or something that she wasn’t allowed to know. She knew people had secrets, she even had secrets. But sometimes it hurts.

Laugher broke through her thoughts, blinking at her phone. She dialed a friend’s number and brought the phone to her ear. As she waited for them to pick up, she couldn’t help but overhear the group of boys’ conversation.

“I didn’t think he’d actually answer,” someone said, after his laughter died down.

“Well, the rules say he had to answer so,” another said with a shrug.

“I’m more surprised by the type of girls Damian’s into.” She frowned, and watched them from the corner of eye. They must be some of Damian’s friends, she thought.

“You mean like that?” someone asked, gesturing to her. She frowned and furrowed her eyebrows as she listened to them talk.

She hung her head as her mood soured as they continued talking. Okay, so maybe she wasn’t the prettiest looking, but she never thought Damian would be so swallow to go for someone that wasn’t her.

“Pumpkin,” a voice said, shaking her out of her thoughts. “You there?”

“Uh, yeah, yeah I am,” she answered, shaking her head and shifting her eyes forward. “I uh, I’m going to have to do a rain check tonight. Something came up.”

“Sure, I’ll tell Red. Let us know when you can, okay?”

“I will, thanks Harls.”

Later that day, she stood in front of the mirror, turned to look at her body. Okay, so maybe she wasn’t the skinniest or the prettiest person. But she liked to think her personality more then made up her looks.

And well, she never really talked to Damian about it. Why he had agreed to marry her, or at the least, broke it off if she wasn’t someone he wasn’t into.

She tugged her shirt down and sighed. Maybe it was time to end it. It’s been nine years since the start of the engagement, and it wasn’t fair to Damian for being sucked into her parents' deals.

Making up her mind, she brought out some paper and pen and began writing. Once she finished, she stuffed it in an envelope, along with the ring and sealed it. Making a quick decision, she grabbed her keys and left for Wayne Manor.

When she arrived, she spent a few minutes just sitting in the car, wondering if she’d have to talk to Damian. That was the last thing she needed, for him to talk her out of it.

Taking a deep breath, she climbed out of the car and made her way towards the door. She reached out and knocked on the door. She rocked on her feet as she waited, hoping Alfred would be the one to answer.

And her hopes were answered when she saw the family butler standing in the doorway. “Miss L/N, I wasn’t aware that you were dropping by. Shall I go announce that you’re here?”

“That’s okay Allred, I only came to drop something for Damian,” she answered with a small smile.

“I’m afraid he isn’t here at the moment,” he said, and she sighed in relief.

“That’s fine,” she said, and held up the envelope for him to take. “Can you, uh, can you give this to him when he gets back?”

Alfred frowned at the envelope she held, and she looked down. She was getting a little uncomfortable under his stare, and wondered if he'd say something that would change her mind.

“Of course,” he said, taking the envelope from her grasp. “Is there something you’d wish for me to tell him?”

“That’s okay,” she said, looking up to him. He gave her a sad smile and wondered if he knew what was inside. “I’ll, uh, I’ll see you around Alfred. And thank you for everything.”

“My pleasure, Miss L/N. I hope to see you soon,” he replied. She hesitated and stepped forward to give him a hug. He tensed at first and returned it, squeezing her a little tightly. “I’m sure you’ll be missed.”

“Thanks.”

~~

Two weeks.

It’s been two weeks since she wrote the letter, two weeks of ignoring Damian’s attempts to talk. Two weeks of listening to her mother whine about the broken engagement, and her father’s belittling her about how she ruined everything. Two weeks of Harley and Ivy pestering her until she finally told them why.

“But you love him!” Harley exclaimed, moving to sit beside Y/N on the couch. “I don’t understand why you ended it, Pumpkin.”

Y/N rubbed her face and sighed, wishing they would just drop it. But they didn’t and kept going. “Because look at me!” she finally snapped. Moving off the couch, she faced the two and gestured to herself.

“I don’t look like someone Damian would marry! I’m not pretty or…or…I’m not a supermodel. And besides, I feel like I don’t even fit in with the Wayne family. I mean, look at the family. They all have looks and great personalities, they’re fun and adventurous, and their lives are amazing. And then...and then there’s me who’s just boring and average who could care less about adventure. I’m just...meh.”

She paused, wrapping her arms around her waist, trying to make herself small. It’s the first time she said her thoughts out loud. It felt a little freeing, but it still hurt.

“The only reason why we were even engaged was for a stupid business deal my dad struck with Bruce Wayne. I would like to add that Mr. Wayne didn’t even look that interested in the arrangement, and neither did Damian,” she finished, deflating a little. Finally telling someone about the arrangement.

“Oh flower,” Ivy said, standing up and pulling her into a hug. “If he can’t love you for who you are or only cares about looks, then he doesn’t deserve you. You should marry for love, so you made the right choice.”

She rested her head on Ivy and sighed. “But it wouldn’t have been a loveless marriage,” she whispered, “I love him, it would make it a one-sided loveless marriage.”

She felt Harley join the hug and she closed her eyes as tears started to form.

“You never cared about your looks before,” Harley mused, playing with Y/N’s hair. “What brought this on?”

Y/N opted to stay quiet and shook her head. Ivy called her name and she sighed. She knew they wouldn’t stop until she answered, and she was afraid of what they would do. This time, Harley called her name, but firmer. “Okay fine, but you can’t do anything stupid.”

Harley scoffed and pulled away to poke Y/N’s nose. “When have I ever?” She gave Harley a look and she just giggled. “Okay, so maybe there were a few times but I’m not letting you off the hook. So, spill.”

She rubbed her face and groaned. “I overheard Damian’s friends talk about how they couldn’t see him falling in love with someone like me. And they're right, I’m fat, and plain looking.”

“You are not fat,” Ivy said, narrowing her eyes. “You’re a little chuddy yes, but you're healthy and that’s all anyone can ask for.”

“What she said,” Harley agreed as she walked out of the room. She came back a moment later with her mallet. “Come on Red, we’ve got work to do.”

“What? No!” she called as the two made their way to the door. “You promised!” But it fell on deaf ears as she watched her two parental figures leave the apartment. Mumbling a string of curses, she took out her phone and sent out a message.

Damian ignored everyone in the room, and frowned at his phone. He stared at the two words like it was mocking him. It’d been two weeks of silence from her and the first words she sends him is I’m sorry?

Scoffing, he typed out a reply and just before he could press send, the door slammed open.

There was a collective gasp around the room as they watched two of Gotham’s sirens walk into the living room.

“Man, and here I thought we were going to have a quiet night,” Garth complained, leaning back against the couch.

“That’s what you get when you say ‘sure is a quiet night,’” Jon mocked, Garth made a face at him but chose not to say anything.

“What do you want, Harley?” Bruce asked tiredly. Damian had a faint feeling that this isn’t the first time Harley barged into the manor.

Harley pointed her mallet at the boys and smirked as they squirmed a little. Damian narrowed his eyes, wondering if there’s going to be a fight or not.

“A little birdie told me that you are making fun of girls like Y/N,” she said. Damian’s eyes widened in surprise. They knew Y/N? But she’s never mentioned that. But then again, there are things he hasn’t told her yet.

“Y/N?” Wally asked, confused. He wasn’t the only one, one look around the room told Damian that no one knew who she was talking about. “Don’t know who that is.”

“Mhm, that’s okay. She knows who you are though. And she’s told us what you’ve said,” Harley continued, “about how you don’t see Damian marrying someone who’s chubby, who is a bit self-conscious about who they are. Which leads me…” she trailed off and pointed her mallet at the Wayne boys.

They narrowed their eyes and watched closely to see what she might do next. Their eyes were especially on Ivy. She hasn’t said much during Harley’s speech. But her glare spoke volumes.

“Why is it whenever Y/N comes home from hanging out with Damian and everyone here, she’s sad?” Harley asked, and the boys widened as they realized who they were talking about.

“You’re talking about Y/N? Damian’s fiancé?” Jason asked. Wally, Gath and Jon’s head whipped around to look at Damian.

“You’re engaged?!”

Damian chose to ignore them and narrowed his eyes at the two. “What do you mean she’s sad? And how do you know?”

“Exactly that,” Ivy said with a shrug. “She didn’t tell us until today, but we knew there was something wrong. Said that she felt like she didn’t fit in, like you just didn’t care that she was there.”

Okay, so she didn’t say it in so many words, but that’s what Ivy got out of it.

She watched and listened as the Wayne boys tried to defend themselves. She raised her hand and they stopped talking.

“Is that why she ended the engagement?” Damian asked.

“She did what?” Damian’s brothers asked in unison. He didn’t answer and Ivy nodded.

“Better go fix it, baby bird,” Harley said, pointing at Damian.

Not needed to be told twice, Damian stood and left, ignoring the protest of his friends and family. He chuckled when he heard the groans of everyone as Harley and Ivy started their lecture on why you shouldn’t talk bad about people you don’t know.

It’s been twenty minutes since Ivy and Harley left, and she can’t help but wonder what they’re doing. She had almost followed them, but decided against it. She’ll wait until they get back for the answers.

A knock on the door pulled her out of her thoughts, and she looked up from her book in confusion. Harley and Ivy would have just walked in, and she wasn’t expecting anyone to come over.

Setting the book on the couch, she got up and made her way to the door. Her eyes narrowed as she saw who it was through the peephole. She bit her lip and debated on whether or not she should open the door.

“I know you’re in there, Y/N,” Damian said. He sounded tired, like he hasn’t been sleeping lately. “Can I come in, please? We need to talk.”

Sighing, she unlocked the door. He looked as tired as he sounded. She stepped aside and waited until he was inside before closing the door.

“You didn’t tell me you knew Harley and Ivy,” he said after a few minutes of silence. She shrugged, keeping her attention on the door as she answered him.

“I met them when I was in grade 10,” she mumbled, “was running from someone and I asked for their help. Since then, they’ve kind of adopted me.”

“Do your parents know?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think they would care.”

Damian snorted, turning around to look at her. She was still refusing to look at him. “I think they would care if their only daughter was hanging around with Gotham’s most wanted.”

“No, I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t,” she argued. “They were the ones who signed my life away. I mean, the whole engagement was because of a business deal.” She hadn’t meant to, but she let the bitterness seep into her voice. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter anyways.”

Damian flinched as she dismissed it, and reached out to grab her arm. She tensed but didn’t pull away, Damian took that as a good sign, and turned her around. She let him, but kept her gaze on his chest.

“My friends are stupid,” Damian stated, surprising her. “We were playing truth or dare and I was asked what my type of a girl was. I didn’t think your first meeting with them would end our engagement. I wished you would have talked to me about it though, instead of that.”

She hung her in shame. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I just, I don’t know. On top of what your friends said, and the whole arranged marriage thing, I didn’t want to marry someone who doesn’t love me back.”

She froze when she realized what she said. She shut her eyes, and covered her face with her hands, willing the flush on her cheeks to go away. But it didn’t.

“You love me?” Damian asked, and she could hear the smirk. She didn’t say anything, she just nodded. “Why didn’t you say anything?” She shrugged. Damian huffed out a laugh, and gently pried her hands off her face. When she still didn’t look up, he grabbed her chin and tilted her head up. “I love you too.”

Her eyes snapped open, and she stared at him dumbfounded. He gave her a soft smile and leaned forward a little, resting his forehead on hers. “I love the way you are now, and I wouldn’t change anything about you.”

“Do you really mean that?” she asked quietly. So quietly, he almost didn’t catch it. He nodded.

“With all my heart.”

She looked at him, looking to see if he was lying. When all she found was the truth, she closed the distance and kissed him. She bundled up his shirt as he cupped her cheeks gently. She put all her love into that kiss, and he eagerly matched her pace.

When they needed air, she pulled back and smiled when he followed after her.

“So, does that mean we can get married now?” Damian asked. She pretended to think about it, and he poked her sides a little.

“I guess so,” she answered with a laugh. He pulled her into a hug, which she returned, nuzzling her face in his shirt. “Are we still waiting until we’re done with school?”

“Would give us time to get to know each other. Really get to know each other,” he added when she was about to say something. “And maybe this time around, you’ll feel like you fit in with my family.”

“Wow, they left nothing out, did they?” she questioned. Damian chuckled and kissed the top of her head. “I love you, Damian.”

“I love you too.”

[forzalando]

Flustered | Fred Weasley

Pairing: Fred Weasley x F!Reader Word Count: 2.5k Warnings: mentions of underage drinking and alcohol, tickling, making out Summary: Your flirty friendship with Fred Weasley comes to a resolution after an argument surrounding the Yule Ball that took place all those years ago. 

A/N: hi friends! this is a Fred Weasley fic based on a tik tok i saw last night (all credit for the bolded line goes to the creator of the tik tok). also thank you to @gcdric for discussing this with me very late last night, i hope it turned out well omg i’m NERVOUS. anyway! off we go. please let me know if you’d like to be added to my taglist! i’m updating it since i was on hiatus for awhile! love you guys!

As you sat on the couch of the Burrow, your eyes fixated on the many pictures in the Weasley’s living room, your mind began to drift off with thoughts of the freckled, red-headed boy sat in front of you giggling with his siblings.

There was something extraordinarily special about your friendship with Fred Weasley. After ten plus years of him being the most important person in your life, ever since your first day at Hogwarts when he tripped over your robes as you and your fellow first years hurried into the Sorting Ceremony, you couldn’t imagine life without him.

You had been through so much together; every Hogwarts experience there was to be had, first kisses, first heartbreaks, the Second Great Wizarding War, he was by your side through everything.

“What’s on your mind, Y/N? You look to be thinking entirely too hard for my liking,” Fred sassed, breaking you out of your trance.

“Too hard for your liking?” you retaliated. “What do you care what I’m thinking about?”

“It’s supposed to be a relaxing weekend! You’re much too deep in thought to be relaxing, so of course I care.”

“Well, if you must know, I was thinking about you, Freddie.”

“Carry on then, love. I’ve always wished for your thoughts to be consumed by me.”

With a cheeky wink, Fred went back to a game of exploding snap and you didn’t need to watch to know that Ginny was absolutely kicking his arse. However, you didn’t miss the sly smile that George gave you when Fred’s attention was diverted from you.

It wasn’t uncommon for the two of you to flirt with one another. In fact, you would dare to say it was the most predominant form of communication between the two of you. There was the occasional time or two where you thought that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same, but he’d always look away quickly or press a kiss to your cheeks instead of your lips, laughing it off as the two of you caught up in a moment that would cross a line that could never be crossed, though you so desperately wanted to.

After another round of exploding snap, Ginny said her goodbyes and apparated back to her flat, but not before promising that she wouldn’t miss anymore family dinners for quidditch practice, which you knew would happen inevitably but smiled nonetheless at her enthusiasm. You’d been a regular appearance at the weekly get-together for as long as you could remember, you were practically part of the family so you could say with appropriate accuracy that Ginny definitely missed dinner more than all of her siblings combined due to her busy schedule.

“Well, I suppose it’s time for us to head back as well,” George mused, eyeing the leftover pies in the kitchen. “Are you staying at ours tonight, Y/N?”

“I’d love nothing more. Besides, I didn’t get to play Fred in exploding snap and I want to knock his ego down just a little bit more.”

George linked arms with you and Fred, laughing about his brother’s awful skills as you apparated to their flat above the shop.

You’d spent many a nights at the twins’ flat over the past couple of years. After the war, you had moved in for a while until you found a job and managed to rent your own place. But, they never got rid of your bed that took up a large corner of their living room, which came in handy after weekly Weasley dinners when you just wanted to spend a bit more time with your favorite boys.

“I’m absolutely knackered,” George said once the three of you had settled on the couch. “I think I might go to bed now, if I’m honest. Besides, I want to be up early to work on those new design sketches for the storefront.”

“George Weasley, you have never gotten up before 10 o’clock on a Sunday in your entire life,” you scoffed.

“There’s a first for everything, Y/N. Goodnight to you and Freddie!”

As George turned away from you both, he faked a yawn and when he was sure Fred wasn’t looking, winked back at you to further confirm your suspicion that he wanted you to be alone with Fred.

He had just about had enough of the tension between you both and took every chance he got to get the two of you alone, by any means necessary.

When you heard George’s bedroom door close, you noticed Fred scoot closer to you on the couch until your legs were touching. He slung his arm over your shoulders and you swung your legs up to lay across his lap.

“What were you thinking about earlier? While Gin and I were playing by the fireplace?” Fred wondered aloud.

“Oh, I was looking at all the pictures on the walls at your Mum and Dad’s. I saw one from you and George’s first day at Hogwarts and I was thinking about how we first met.”

“Hmm, so you were thinking about one of the most embarrassing moments in my life?”

“Please, you’ve done much, much worse. Remember that time in our sixth year when you tried to outdrink George after we won the Slytherin match and you – ”

“Ah, ah, ah, I thought we agreed to never speak of that incident again,” Fred said as he visibly shuddered.

“I was just pointing out that I can think of quite a few moments that were far more embarrassing than tripping on my robes.”

“You’re one to talk! Don’t you remember our fifth year when you and George were running from Filch and you knocked Wood to the ground? Bloody broke his arm, you were so lucky Madame Pomfrey had him fixed up before our next match or he would’ve had a heart attack.”

A loud laugh escaped your lips as you covered your face in embarrassment; that was the year you had followed Oliver around like a lost puppy, although your schoolgirl crush paled in comparison to how you’d felt for Fred back then and now as well but neither twin would ever let you live it down.

“Do you remember the Yule Ball? When Flitwick caught you trying to spike the punch and you slipped and fell in the middle of the dance floor?” You chuckled at the memory, even if the Yule Ball was an event you had tried to forget.

“You were so mad at me that night and the whole week before, I was terribly distracted. If we had been on good terms I would’ve gotten away with it and the slipping never would have happened.”

“Well, it’s your own fault we were fighting! I still can’t believe you didn’t ask me to go with you.”

“Oi, it’s not my fault when you never said you wanted me to ask you.”

“I thought I had made it painfully obvious when I asked you every morning at breakfast if you’d found a date yet and told you that I didn’t have one either.”

Fred threw his head back and laughed, the thought of your shocked face when he had asked Angelina was too priceless a memory to ever forget.

“You were so jealous,” Fred mumbled.

“Jealous?!” you screeched. “I wasn’t jealous, I was annoyed that I had to spend all night with some Durmstrang tosser stepping on my toes. We’ve had this argument literally a million times.”

“No, you were definitely jealous. You shot poor Angie daggers the whole night and she’s such a lovely girl.”

“I shot her daggers because she hogged you and I didn’t get to dance with my best friend a single time at the only Ball we ever had at school.”

“I would’ve asked you to dance if you weren’t mad at me, and you know she was only dancing with me to make George jealous, even if he was oblivious.”

You smiled at that; you knew Angelina only had eyes for George and that going with Fred was some elaborate ruse. Shockingly, it ended up working, and he and Angelina have been together ever since.

“Still think you were jealous,” Fred challenged, poking you in the exact spot on your abdomen that he knew you were ticklish.

“Fred Weasley, for the last time, I was not jealous,” you emphasized as you poked him back.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, love,” he said lowly, a daring glint in his eye.

Never one to heed warnings or follow directions, you poked him again and within seconds he had you pinned underneath him on the couch, his fingers trailing up and down your sides as you couldn’t help but laugh boisterously beneath him.

“Fred – ” you gasped. “Freddie, please, I actually think I might pee on your couch.”

“Not until you admit you were jealous that I asked Angelina!”

You shook your head, the combination of laughter and trying to catch your breath kept you from firing back a witty remark.

After a few moments, you simply couldn’t take anymore and shouted out, “FINE. Fine, you win.”

“What was that, lovey? I couldn’t quite hear you.”

“I said, fine, I admit it. I was jealous that you asked Angelina when I wanted you to ask me,” you grumbled, struggling to catch your breath in between words.

“See, now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You glared up at him and moved to push him off of you when you realized just how close his face was to yours. If you concentrated hard enough, you could count each individual freckle splattered across his nose and cheeks. Almost instinctually, your eyes flickered down to his lips, but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of staring, so you quickly looked away.

Fred noticed that you couldn’t take your eyes off of him and, in true Fred Weasley fashion, couldn’t resist a flirty joke.

“You really want to kiss me right now, don’t you?” Fred chuckled.

“Yeah,” you sighed, “yeah, I do.”

Surging forward, you pressed your lips to his and immediately wove your fingers through the hair at the base of his neck. You were so tired; tired of the constant flirting and feeling as if you would forever have to love him from afar while he lived his life blissfully unaware of how much it hurt you to hide how you felt.

His arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer to him; the raw emotion in the way he desperately kissed you left little doubt in your mind that he had wanted this for as long as you had. His hands slipped under your shirt and his fingers blazed a trail of fire up your spine; a breathy moan escaped your lips but Fred swallowed the sound with his mouth, deepening the kiss and pulling you even closer.

A scream from behind the couch caused you to jump apart, chests heaving and hair sticking up every possible way. You sat up to look over the back of the couch to see George Weasley, looking visibly shaken and guilty, with his hands covering his eyes.

“Oh my god, I leave you alone for thirty minutes and you’re about to shag on my bloody couch. Jesus, ok, let me just, uh, well, I’ve probably ruined the mood, haven’t I?”

“George,” you hissed. “What are you doing sneaking around, I thought you were going to bed?!”

“Yeah, I said I was,” he said sheepishly as he uncovered his eyes, “but I might have been eavesdropping on your conversation. When I heard it go all quiet, I thought I’d come out and see if you two fools had fallen asleep, but clearly, that was not the case.”

“Eavesdropping? I swear to Merlin, George, you’re a ten year old boy. I can’t believe you! Of all the immature and invasive things to do, my God.”

“Well, pardon me, I just wanted to see if my idiot brother would finally grow some balls and tell you he’s in love with you!”

“I’m not sure what you’re on about but that doesn’t mean you can just sneak up on people,” you chided.  “Fred, would you please back me up here, what is wrong with you – ”

You turned around to pull Fred into the argument only to find him sitting on top of the coffee table with a dazed look in his eyes and flushed cheeks.

“Fred, are you alright?” you asked worriedly.

He slowly lifted his head and looked into your eyes; you could see just how flushed his face was now that he wasn’t staring at the floor and good Godric, he was as red as the hair on his head.

“I…I…You,” he stammered. “You kissed me?”

“Yes, I suppose that is what happened,” you muttered sheepishly.

“Y/N Y/L/N…you…you kissed me?”

“Freddie, what the hell is the matter with you?”

George burst into laughter and you whirled back around to glare at him, however, this time, he didn’t hush up like he usually did.

“Like I said before, he’s in love with you, and now he can’t even form a coherent sentence because you kissed him, this is golden. Ol’ cock sure Freddie, a pile of mush because of a little makeout sesh, I’ve got to send an owl to Lee…” George trailed off as he turned and rushed back towards his bedroom.

You took another look at Freddie and smiled at the lovestruck look on his face. He was shaking his head in his hands and you saw the redness on his neck as well, which only happened when he was well and truly flustered.

“This is so humiliating,” he groaned as you sat down next to him.

“I think it’s rather cute, if that makes you feel any better,” you said as you chuckled and placed a hand on his thigh.

He removed his head from his hands and looked at you adoringly, the giddy smile on his face ignited butterflies in your stomach and your heart beat wildly in your chest.  

“All the times I imagined how this would pan out…it definitely wasn’t supposed to happen this way. I mean, not that I’m mad about it, it was incredibly sexy how you just grabbed me and kissed me, but I wasn’t supposed to be a bumbling fool afterwards.”

A moment of silence washed over the both of you as Fred intertwined your hands and steadily held your gaze.

“George was right, you know. I am in love with you. Have been for quite a long time, if I’m being honest.”

“Well, in the spirit of honesty, I guess I should say that I’m in love with you too.”

“Bloody brilliant,” he sighed as he leaned in to kiss you again, but you stopped him just before your lips touched.

“You’re not going to pass out or anything if we kiss again, are you?”

“No promises, love, but I’ll try my best.”

taglist: @theweasleysredhair @hufflepuffbaby9 @theboywhocriedlupin @swellwriting @fortisfiliae @thoseofgreatambition @wildfire-whizbangs @woakiees 

[asahipleaseloveme]

Stay

Asahi Angst

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: smut, angst, cheating, dubcon (slight), hand job, oral (male receiving), degradation (slight). (please let me know if there is something I missed)

Author's Note: Not really an Asahi x reader fic. Just been feeling angsty, while also trying to write some smut. Feedback is appreciated.

Tagging: @axoxtxhxh

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

Asahi stared at the ceiling fan going around and around. The only noise aside from the fan was your light breathing as you slept. You looked so peaceful, so beautiful sleeping with your face pressed against Asahi’s shoulder. How he wanted to enjoy this moment; to soak it all in and ingrain the image in his head forever. But as soon as his phone lit up, he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep this peaceful image. His phone seemed to illuminate the entire room. He quickly grabbed it from the nightstand and quietly slipped into the bathroom.

“You’re late. You have 30 minutes to get here, Sweets.”

He sighed and threw on some clothes he found laying around. As he walked out of the bathroom, he stopped and stared at you. He decided against kissing you goodbye, for fear that he would wake you. And that’s something he was not ready to do yet. For a man of his stature, he’s learned to be light on his toes.

Asahi arrived at his destination and softly tapped on the door.

“Toshiko, let me in,” Asahi sighs.

What am I doing here?

“I don’t know, Azumane. You’re late and you know how I feel about tardiness,” the woman on the other side huffed.

“Toshiko, please. I-I’m sorry I’m late. It won’t happen again.”

What am I doing here?

“Azumane, you’re lucky I’m generous,” she said as she unlatched the lock. “Now, get in here and take your clothes off.”

“Um, actually Toshiko, I..I..we need to talk. I can’t keep doing this. It-It’s not right. We-”

“What are you going on about? I’m only going to say it once more. Clothes off. And sit. NOW,” the woman said with force in her voice.

Asahi did as he was told and stripped for the woman. He took his position in the chair she had prepped for him. He assumed this position just as he had numerous times before. She handcuffed his hands behind his back to thwart any attempts at stopping her work.

“Azumane, you’ve been avoiding me. First, last week when you “fell asleep”, then when you had to work late, and now tonight when you were late. You know how I feel about this, Sweets. I will not tolerate it,” she says with a smile. Sickeningly sweet could be the best way for Asahi to describe that smile.

What am I doing here?

“Toshiko, can we please-”

His plea was cut short by a backhand.

“Your time for talking has passed, my dear. You can speak when I tell you to speak.”

The sting from her backhand lingered, but Asahi knew better than to speak out again.

Asahi stared at her with sad eyes. He knew what he was doing was wrong, but he hasn’t found a way to get out.

She grabbed his cock and started stroking. He was slowly getting harder, holding back his moans, much to the displeasure of the scornful woman.

“For fucksake, Azumane, you could at least try to be excited to see me. You used to enjoy our time together.” She grabbed him by the hair and pulled his face close to her’s. “You’re getting really annoying. Get your shit together and start enjoying yourself, yeah?”

She released his head with a shove. But he remained stoic. She attempted to get him aroused again, this time moving her hand faster and with more twisting motions. Asahi’s body was betraying his mind. He was able to keep composed...until she took him in her mouth. Her tongue twisting around his tip was causing him to come undone. He tried to keep his moans quiet. But when she took all of him, choking on his cock, a gasp escaped his lips. His toes started to curl; one of his little ticks to indicate that he was getting close. She released him from her mouth and continued to stroke him until he was almost at his tipping point and then...she stopped, denying him his orgasm.

“Aww, naughty boys don’t deserve rewards,” Toshiko mused.

Asahi was breathing heavily, but said nothing.

“Up until a few weeks ago, you’ve always been so good for me. Since I’m so kind, I can give you release...if you beg. I’m the only one who knows how to really please you, anyway. So, Azumane, beg.”

“No.”

That was not the response she was expecting; and to his surprise, it wasn’t what he was expecting either.

“I’m sorry, can you repeat that?”

“I said no. I’m done with this. With you. I don’t need you. I have someone. Someone who loves me.”

“Oh, someone who loves you? Ha. If she really loved you, don’t you think she would have noticed you leaving her in the middle of the night? She obviously doesn’t care that much about you. And if she doesn’t care about you, she doesn’t love you. Who could love you? You are completely worthless. You can’t even follow simple instructions. You’re lucky enough as it is to have me. Simply because nobody else could want you. Now, beg. Or I will tell your little girlfriend where it is you’ve been sneaking off to.”

Something inside of Asahi snapped. He fully realized the circumstances of his actions. He was able to break the handcuffs that bound him and began gathering his clothes. Toshiko was not pleased with his actions.

“Are you stupid? Sit back down.You are going to stay. You listen to me, Azumane. You will never, and I mean never find anyone as good as me. Hey, I’m talking to you,” she grabbed at his hand. He pulled his hand away and with his other hand he grabbed her jaw and brought his face down to her level.

“No, you listen to me, Toshiko. You have never been good to me. You’ve never been good for me. Even when we were dating. You are mean, hateful, and you never cared about me. I can’t believe that I’ve possibly ruined the most important, meaningful relationship I’ve ever had because I was scared of displeasing you. I just-I can’t believe I’ve let this go on for as long as I have. So, yeah. I am stupid. But you don’t have to worry about my stupid ass anymore. Good-bye, Toshiko.”

Asahi released her from his grip. He slammed the door to her apartment, leaving her bewildered.

As soon as he got home, he slid down the door and dropped his head in his hands. He felt disgusting. He didn’t know how he was going to tell you. He sat there for a few more minutes, before finally getting up to take a shower. He was practicing what he was going to say when he heard the door quietly open.

“Hm, Asahi?”

He heard your soft, sleepy voice.

“Uh, I’ll be out in a minute, babe.”

“Mmm, okay,” you rubbed your eyes and went back to the bed.

A few minutes went by and Asahi came back into the bedroom, dried and dressed.

“Is everything okay, Asahi? You’ve been gone for a while and I tried texting you.”

Asahi took a seat next to you on the bed. His phone illuminated the room once again, this time with a text reading, “I’m willing to forgive that little stunt of yours. All you have to do is come back. We can work something out.”

You can see his face from the glow of his phone. The look of disdain and discomfort washed over him.

“Asahi, please. Stay. Don’t-don’t go. I don’t know what’s going on, but please stay,” you choke out.

“Oh, ______,” the tears started to fall from his eyes. “I...I have to tell you something.”

[tobiosmilktea]

umpah umpah! smau

↪︎ bokuto x f!reader x iwaizumi

[029] — when the party’s over!

masterlist | prev. | next

a/n: ah yes,, classic xiao writing this chapter instead of writing her final exam essay (this isn’t proofread either 💀)

it got colder and then it got warmer the moment alcohol burned through your esophagus in the dead of night. it was winter now, the arid tokyo air was on the cusp of freezing as if it were to rain, snow would be covering the city in a blanket of white.

other than those who were apart of the g-force groupchat, the bar wasn’t as crowded with strangers as it would usually be on a saturday night, yet you suppose that it’s the biting chill in the air that’s driving people home in the comforting warmth of their houses.

you liked going out, especially to go out drinking with your friends, but after the past few weeks, you needed to take a break from it all. sure, a drink would surely ease your tension in your shoulders, but what good would it be if you ex-boyfriends clung to you like two lost puppies? the entire night you have been pulled back and forth between bokuto and iwaizumi that you had lost count how many times you ran laps around the bar because of it.

so now, the first and probably the final time to yourself sitting alone at the bar was cut short as iwaizumi placed himself on the barstool next to you. 

you flicker him a look, one so nonchalant, yet so obviously asking him why the hell was he next to you. his mouth parted then as if he was suddenly being interrogated just by the plain look in your eyes to explain himself.

“let me guess,” you say first before a single syllable could even leave iwaizumi, “you want to buy me a drink?”

“only as an apology for annoying you earlier.” there was a hinting smirk on his lips as he turned towards the bartender, waving him down before ordering something fruity for you. at least he remembered you preferred sweeter drinks than liquor that would make your eyes water and your throat burn.

you sent him a smile. the words ‘thank you’ were laced in your grin that it was enough to send iwaizumi’s heart racing even without the words having to make its way past your peachy lips. 

peaches, huh? iwaizumi liked peaches. he wondered what they tasted like...

“after tonight, do you think you and i could talk—” he tries to ask in a hushed voice. it was discrete as if he feared that someone would hear his words and suddenly interrupted.

just like right now.

“hey! hey! hey!” bokuto erupts from behind them, sending a downpour of annoyance through iwaizumi as he watched the volleyball player sit on the other side of you. “a round of shots for us, please!” he tells the bartender upon placing your drink right in front of you.

you were about to open your mouth and decline since you already had more than enough alcohol coursing through your body, but you figured you needed the most you could get knowing this is what it would be like for the rest of the night. honestly at this point, you have come to accept the fact that you just had to just deal with them. you kept your mouth shut as you downed half of the sugar-rimmed margarita as the bartender placed down the shots in front of you.

you took the shot first, face contorting slightly at the stinging of the vodka while bokuto and iwaizumi lagged behind. unbeknownst to you, their glares made up of bullet holes and stab wounds clashed against each other as they tilted their head backs in a swing. they slammed their shot glasses down at the same time.

“another round, please!” bokuto calls again, pointing a wink at you as you looked up at him.

bokuto nods as he gives iwaizumi a look, “yeah. why? can’t your alcohol?” his voice teased as if he was proposing a challenge.

“you’re one to talk,” he scoffs.

like a domino effect, another trio of shot glasses were place in front of you, eyes widening into saucers as both bokuto and iwaizumi didn’t spare a sign of hesitancy as they grabbed their respective glasses.

a nervous laughter emitted from you, “don’t you guys think we should slow it down on the shots? i just barely swallowed the first one down.”

after the boys hadn’t answered you within a few beats of silence, it was clear that it was no use trying to slow them down. hell, they have already thrown their heads back before you could mutter another word to stop them. you wanted to roll your eyes at their careless actions—acting as if they needed to prove that their were the superior one to be sitting by your side. if anything, you could easily beat them if you actually had the energy to do so. instead, you lifted your shot glass to your lips and sipped its contents.

“another one!” iwaizumi said this time.

an obvious sigh left the bartender as his expression was unreadable. it was deadpan and nonchalant that you questioned whether or not he was annoyed or just didn’t give a single damn. either way, it was understandable. he had even thrown you a look from over the bar to ask if you wanted a shot too considering you were sipping your second one.

you shook your head. this was more than enough for tonight having to deal with the idiosyncrasies of your ex-boyfriends.

if you had to be completely honest, you near really pined yourself as someone who got annoyed easily, especially not towards iwaizumi nor bokuto. and yet the sudden influx of envy taking over whenever one of them catches you with the latter was forcing you towards the end of your rope. a simple smile towards one of them led to a jealous look at the other, but it only molded into something worse. from discrete, sly motions to full of cacophonies of backhanded compliments, you should’ve known it was going to only get worse ever since you did in fact visit the gym during practice.

long story short, you weren’t visiting anyone in particular but iwaizumi and bokuto liked arguing otherwise. it seems that professionalism was completely thrown out of the window once satomi was out of the picture, you’ve come to notice.

“next one!” the boys next to you shout again, snatching you out of your thoughts in a rough tug that it almost scared you.

you pulled a concerned look on your face as you finished your shot. “guys, i don’t think you two should be downing so many—”

but before the sentence could even leave your mouth, their fifth (or was it sixth?) shot was already burning down their esophagus. their voices were strained slightly as they called for another one, yet rather than in unison, their words started to slur into one another in an incoherent tangent. they slammed the frail shot glasses haphazardly. they were practically ignoring you at this point just to prove a point. granted, you weren’t sure what point they were trying to make anymore.

how ironic.

“seriously?” you scoff, the annoyance finally radiating off of you. “first the text messages, then causing a commotion during practice, and now this? do you guys have to turn everything into a competition?” you raised your voice higher than last time, yet it wasn’t like you were speaking softly anyway.

iwaizumi swallowed the contents of his shot quickly, swiping his wrist over his lips to capture the alcohol. “bokuto started it!” he exclaimed childishly. it was something so out of character that it was obvious he was just a few shots away from being completely blacked out.

“and you followed suit!” bokuto retorted upon slamming the shot glass on the bar. his biceps unconsciously flexed beneath your gaze at the action that you were surprised those poor glasses weren’t broken, let alone cracked. “i never even proposed a competition until you started calling over shots as well!”

“what the hell are you trying to prove, anyway?” iwaizumi bites back with the same energy. “least time i remember, you got absolutely shitfaced and poor (y/n) had to deal with you.”

by now you were sure every single person in this damned pub was all ears for a drunken argument. you feared to even crane your head slightly to see if anyone was staring at the three of you, hoping that your hand was enough to shield you a bit from the embarrassment (news flash: it did not). “okay, let’s not—”

“just shoes how much (y/n) cares about my wellbeing. isn’t that right, (y/nnie)?” the volleyball player mused as he slung his arm over you.

“y-yeah, but—”

and you were cut off once again as iwaizumi scoffs. “yeah right, you’re probably just trying to get wasted just to get her to take you home again. you’d probably take advantage of the situation like some people you know.”

a hard look flushed over bokuto’s face. his brows furrowed, creating lines of annoyance upon his forehead as you swore you heard his teeth grit. the anger was brewing within him and perhaps this is the first time in a long time you have seen bokuto act like this. “are you comparing me to satomi, right now?” the words were like venom spewing out of his lips.

“if the shoe fits,” responded the latter, “close friends typically act on similar wills, if you know what i mean.”

“iwa...” you say disappointedly upon facing him, hoping to stop them by any means necessary.

but perhaps you focused on calming down the wrong boy as the cringing screech of a bar stool being pushed back ravaged your eardrums. bokuto lets out a grunt, hovering over you and iwaizumi.

oh god, you thought. if you didn’t do anything now, it would only escalate even more and you were a hundred percent not in the mood to get kicked out of a bar right now. besides, for a bunch of drunk dudes, they put up a good fight in the way their words impacted the other.

“bo, stop.” you hissed at the volleyball player, your palm splayed over his chest to stop him from getting any closer. “we were supposed to celebrate tonight and not fight, remember?”

bokuto didn’t respond to even spare a knowing glance down towards you. there was a wildfire igniting around you and iwaizumi was only adding fuel to the burning fire. he stands himself, landing just a few significant inches shorter than bokuto, and yet his intimidation still stands.

what the hell were you going to do now? you weren’t exactly one to get into physical altercations, especially with men built like adonises. helpless, you flicker a look towards someone—literally anyone familiar to help you as your gaze lands of akaashi and kaori. they send you a pitied look, yet even they themselves weren’t in the mood to stop anything physical.

that’s it, you scoff with a roll to your eyes. “unbelievable,” you spat out, pushing past iwaizumi and bokuto as you finally managed to capture their attention.

they attempt to call out your name, yet you ignored their calls as you made your way over to akaashi’s table. akaashi scoots farther into the booth slightly with just enough room for you to squeeze in. yuko was also in the booth, placed just beside kaori as they shared a drink together.

“boys,” you huff.

“maybe i don’t envy you that much in the love department anymore...” kaori mused.

you bite back a chuckle, shaking your head at the thought. “there was nothing to be jealous about in the first place, anyway. besides, they’re getting annoying now. it's like after we get over a problem, a new one comes around and i’m sick of it.”

“if it makes you feel any better, i have a solution for you.” akaashi clears his throat, letting his offer simmer a bit as he sips from his glass.

“hm?” you hummed curiously, “what is it?”

akaashi shrugs, “tell them your true feelings.”

“huh?” the sound of surprise fell out of your mouth. a sarcastic laugh left you as you roll your eyes, “yeah right.”

“good luck getting that out of (y/n) anytime soon,” yuko added with a snicker.

“what is that supposed to mean?” you say rather offendedly. like sure, you didn’t exactly disagree but hearing it from a dear friend was different.

kaori flickers you an amused look, “you did lie and not tell them about the webtoon for years.”

“not to mention neither of them new they dated you until just recently,” yuko adds.

you pursed your lips together as the thought lingered in your mind, waiting until you come up with a rational answer that wasn’t an excuse. but truth be told, you have told lots and excuses and you were running out quick.

“you’ve never been good at telling people things that they need to hear.” that was the last hit on the nail as you sighed out. of course it was akaashi who had to mention your irrational inability of preferring to run away from things that were hard.

you didn’t really know what to say. everything they said was spot on, so it wasn’t like you had anything to add onto or defend yourself with as you fiddled with your fingers. “why did they have to come back to me at the same time?” you ask without thinking, catching yourself mid-sentence, but it was too late. your thoughts were out in the open now.

“the universe probably knows you’ve never really moved on and neither have them.” says yuko as she rests her head upon his palm. she had to be spitting out bullshit at this point.

“please,” you roll your eyes for the umpteenth time in a span of thirty minutes, “you sound like one of those tarot card readers on tiktok.”

“i’m actually serious, (y/n)...” she continues, “you literally wrote a wholeass webtoon about them.”

“why does it matter when so many people use their personal experiences to make things. i don’t see you blaming taylor swift for all her scandals from writing so many break up songs.” you state matter-of-factly because it was true. why did it matter? it wasn’t like there was anything you could do anymore considering the film’s preproduction is almost over and the webtoon is finished.

yuko opened her mouth again to say more, but kaori quickly stopped her. “no, (y/n), you’re right. but i agree with akaashi on this one. like, who knows how things will turn out when you tell them how you feel. it’s clear both of them like you, it’s just a matter on who you reject and who your accept.”

that was the very last thing you wanted to do—choose. you loved them both and the thought of even having to give more love to only one of them was like tightening a fist around your heart. “do i really have to choose?”

“i mean...”  akaashi finally speaks after another sip from his glass, “who said you couldn’t have both?”

the thought melted smirks upon yuko and kaori’s faces, but only sent your heart racing and crimson red blush to creep up onto your cheeks. did it get hot all of a sudden? no offense to those who do have open relationships, but like hell would you ever be in one. granted, you don’t really knock on things until you try it, but the concept is something you never really expected yourself being in. besides, bokuto and iwaizumi both dating you? those men are the literal epitome of possessive that a relationship with the both of them was just a train wreck waiting to happen.

but then again, how would you know?

you shake your head from the thought as your heart beat was only getting louder and louder and faster and faster the more you thought about the both of them. it even reached to the point that if you three were to ever get intimate that you would absolutely lose your mind knowing that you would be in between two of the hottest men you— “whatever!” you exclaim rather loudly, ignoring the hushed giggled from the yuko and kaori just by looking at your expression. “i’m going to talk to semi and suga, they’ll probably be more of a help than you guys. where are they anyway? oh, there they are.”

you lift yourself from the booth, but akaashi stops before you could even make a step. you turn over your shoulder, “you can’t keep running away from your problems, (y/n).”

capturing your bottom lip between your teeth, you let out a frustrated sigh. i know, you wanted to say, but instead you opted to take akaashi’s drink from his hand and finish its contents. “fine. what do i do?”

“when the party’s over, you tell them everything.” he explains upon receiving his now empty liquor glass from you. “besides, we only have a few weeks left before we have to leave.”

you let out an amused huff, “why does it matter when i’ll end up leaving again anyway?”

fun facts! —

y/n felt bad for drinking akaashi’s drink so she ended up buying him another one

after y/n left iwa and bo, it’s safe to say they argued a bit more on who was the one who drove y/m away

sakusa and atsumu had to pull them away

also at this point, everyone is drunk asf (esp y/n) which will explain her actions next chap

taglist: (closed!)

@moonlightaangel @elianetsantana @k4tiepie @memorableminds @wheeshllumi @suhkusa @kitsunetea @airybby @noeminemi @truly-a-snitch @keichan @cosmicmermaid25 @bap-kingdom @saturnfarie @kwdflash @ennos-baby @dinablossom @chrisrue15 @seikamuzu @nestlevanilla @chasekudo @yammmers @pixcldust @iwaizluv @h0ngh0ngh0ng @emogril @tiredandkindaoverworked @tsumue @underratedmage @bokutosuwus @kellesvt @unstableye @oh-tapeworm @scrappyfka @alittlebitofrain @mxngy @tpwkatsumu @atsumuwoah @macchiatoast @dicerawr @kageyamasbabygorl @some-random-stranger-007 @vhskenma @wntrmn @little-plants @stargirlara @kissungjae @je11yfishwriter @sbaepsae @apollochjld

[lawslessons]

hi hi! i js found your blog and omg its amazing??? especially what you wrote for Sabos soulmate vv mucho gusto😤👌🏽

could i request B from the soulmate alpha for Law? i feel like Law is the last person to believe in soulmates and love and all that bs, but when he sees tattoos he’s all too familiar with on someone else... yeah! he probably thinks they’re some intense groupie at first until one of his men brings up the whole soulmate business. anywho, hope all goes well! :D

Law x Reader - Rivers of Ink

I agree with that! He would be a stubborn man for sure. Honestly I was a little self indulgent with what I wrote for this, I do hope you forgive me if this isn’t what you were expecting. Today is February 17th and tomorrow, the 18th, is actually my birthday so I made this one extra long as a mini gift to you all! I hope you enjoy this, dear. I had a fantastic time writing this!

Warnings: Slight NSFW, Love at First Sight

Synopsis: Nightmares plagued the doctor every night, nothing seemed to be able to remedy his affliction. But could one artistic individual on an island hold the answer to his worries? A sudden and unexpected whirlwind of a romance, Law struggles to see and accept the fact that he was falling hard so quickly. 

“Haven’t you heard that tattoos don’t age that well?” Someone whispered into Law’s ear as he walked down the dark alleyway. The lights flickered above him, moths swarmed around the light until it was barely visible, it served no purpose in being there. He rolled his eyes and turned his head to see who was there, but he was unable to see anyone. 

“Marking up your pretty body like that? What a shame,” Another sneered, the words grew louder and soon it turned into chanting, it was louder, louder and louder. His ears began to ring, laughter pierced his ears and soon Law felt like he was falling. 

Law gasped as he woke up with a start and clutched his chest. His eyes were wide as he felt around his bedside table for his glass of water. He chugged the remnants of what was inside while he used his free hand to wipe the sweat off of his brow and onto his palm instead. He felt clammy and gross from waking up so suddenly, his eyes felt dry and heavy, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep that easily after what he experienced. Leaving his bed, he grabbed his jacket and left his room to go to one of the main hallways of his submarine so he could look out at the ocean. The ocean was beautiful, they all said. But in the night, the normally blue ocean was a vast expanse of black ink. He stared out at the ink and saw that there was nothing notable to look at. The ocean was dark, the submarine was dark, nothing seemed able to emit much light here. He didn’t even know his purpose in coming out here, his nightmare seemed to have more light than the hallway he was currently in. Dismayed, he grabbed onto one of the walls and groped his way back to his room before he laid down on his bed and did his best to force himself to sleep. He was blessed to not have anymore dreams, or nightmares that night about his inked up skin. He woke up and overheard his crew talking about how they noticed an island on the radar and how they were going to go up to restock on some supplies and to also get some fresh air as well. Law made himself get ready for the day, he couldn’t let anyone else find out about his restless night.

Law went up to the deck for the first time in weeks when they finally reached land. The warm air on his tanned cheeks caught him off guard, he felt disoriented after coming out of his underwater hibernation. The captain glanced around the shore of the island with his steely eyes and saw how the island was rather boisterous and full of life. The islanders were walking around, laughing, flying kites that were covered in extravagant designs. 

“I’m going for a walk,” Law said as he left the submarine and stretched his arms up in the air, he watched as some people ate snacks while some were walking and were just enjoying the island’s temperate weather. One thing he noticed was how no one was alone, and how everyone - except for the children of course - had exquisite, matching tattoos that covered their arms and legs, backs and necks. Anywhere there was space, unique designs covered people’s bodies and it caught Law’s attention. He started to “people watch”, he noticed how this one woman had a long, intricate dragon tattooed on her arm, and how her girlfriend had a matching one on the same arm in the exact same place. He watched as a mother and father had matching ones on their wrists, it was the same with everyone he met. Law’s curiosity soon took the better of him and he approached one of the happy couples and awkwardly looked down at them. 

“Those tattoos… where are they from?” Law asked as he pointed to the intricate ink snaking down their bodies. The woman answered for the two of them and told him about a tattoo artist who lived on this island who specialized in “Soul Tattoos.” While he got no further elaboration on that, he decided to follow the directions he was given by the polite couple and soon found himself knocking on the door of a random shop. The door soon opened and Law was greeted by something… strange, familiar. He looked down at their hands and noticed how death ran across their fingers, and how from under the collar of their shirt, he could see the start of a large tribal heart. Law brushed it off as a major coincidence as he slowly walked inside of the shop and looked down at them. 

“I saw some of your work out on the streets, it’s really well done,” Law said as he looked down at the person in front of him. 

“You did? Oh, thank you,” They smiled as they walked back into their shop and showed off some of the work they had on the walls of the shop. “I’m proud of the work I do, and especially for people like that? This? I really do enjoy it,” Law studied how their lips curved into a smile and how they parted when they let out a small breath. 

“What work are you talking about?” Law asked, he knew that they were all tattoos and he appreciated the artistry behind it, but other than that he wasn’t sure about what they were referring to. 

“I do Soul Tattoo’s they’re all about -- “ Before they were able to say more, a clock chimed behind them and they looked over at it. 

“Oh, closing time -- “ They looked over at Law and suddenly sparks coursed through their entire being. His steely eyes pierced straight into their own like a sword, their heart begin to race as they maintained eye contact with one another for a prolonged period of time. Their breathing slowed as they took in the sight of the captain in front of them. The tattoos were the first thing that caught their attention. Finally... he was here. Before they could even speak, Law looked away from them and at the door in some discomfort. 

“It’s alright, goodnight,” Law said as he went to leave the shop before he heard any objections from the person who was there. As he walked in the dimmed streets, he looked at the inky sky and couldn’t help but think about their tattoos. The knuckle tattoos were similar to his own, he glanced down and was surprised to see that it could have been the exact same thing. Death on his knuckles, the ornate tribal style tattoo heart on his chest, the more he thought about it, the more perplexed and creeped out he became. He went back to his submarine, that confused look mixed in with his usual cold look caught the eyes of some of his subordinates. Bepo looked at his captain and quickly stood up to give him a hug. 

“Captain! Welcome back!” Bepo cheered as he hugged the tall man, Law didn’t resist the hug but he didn’t hug him back either. Bepo noticed how his captain was more stone cold tonight than other nights which confused the poor bear. “Captain? Are you alright?” Bepo asked him. 

“I’m fine,” Law assured as he pulled away from his warm companion and looked up at the sky for a moment. “I met someone strange,” Law said as he studied the stars with his eyes next, the mixing of the bright white against the blueish black was a wonderful contrast. Mindless thoughts, Law was trying to distract himself again. 

“What do you mean?” Bepo decided to ask him. 

“Someone with the same tattoos as mine,” Law shared as he glanced over at Bepo. Bepo was confused too, he looked over at Penguin who was taking in the cool, night air. 

“The same as yours? That’s a little weird,” Bepo agreed, and Law was glad that he wasn’t crazy for thinking otherwise. He didn’t understand why they had the same ones as him. 

“Maybe they’re some weird follower of mine or something,” Law grumbled, that thought upset him. Bepo noticed the upset look, but he had to agree with his captain, it was strange. 

“You did gain a lot of popularity after the Doflamingo incident,” Bepo reminded him. That seemed to almost settle it for Law, he had a stalker, a fan and that made a weird chill shoot down his spine. Was that the shock he felt from earlier? No, that was more powerful, the captain stared out at the ocean with a blank, thinking expression until he heard Penguin clearing his throat to speak. 

“I don’t think it’s a weird fan,” Penguin said as he continued to relax on the deck. Bepo and Law both fell silent and looked over at Penguin for more of an explanation, one he was happy to give. “Well, I was talking to some of the locals and they told me about how people who are supposedly soulmates would have the same tattoos on their body and how they would always get big pieces so they could find them easier,” Penguin explained. Law listened to what he said and couldn’t help but think that his words were ridiculous, that story didn’t even make any sense. Soulmates? Partners for life? As if. 

“I’m going to bed,” Law simply said as he went to go to his quarters. But the seed of doubt was already planted, and as he slept, he couldn’t help but think about that possibility. 

“Marked skin… we warned you, didn’t we?” A stranger mused. 

“Yes, yes we did, we did,” Another chirped, their voice was too cheery for the grim, nightmarish atmosphere. 

“Pirates can’t have soulmates, they can’t have -- “

Law gasped, he shot out of bed and didn’t even grab his water, he grabbed his jacket and left his room to go to the hallway. He noticed that they were on land, they were still on land, this wasn’t all just a dream, he really did meet someone with the same tattoos as himself. His mind for once wasn’t able to process what he saw and he soon found himself on the deck of his submarine looking out at the blue ocean and the black sky. He stared at the scene for a minute before he looked at his knuckles. How could something so alarming, something he had that was meant to push people away be the reason he got close to someone else? It hadn’t even been a day but all Law was able to think about was their infectious smile, their incredible art… There was more that had caught his eye too, but it was too inappropriate to even say, Law was embarrassed that he was caught up in such juvenile affections. Maybe Penguin was right. Law scoffed under his breath and continued to deny the truth that was in front of his face, he was falling for them after only one day. It was such an unreasonable thought that it disturbed him, it seriously caught him off guard. How was that even possible? Was it possible to fall this hard for someone after one day? Law was slowly beginning to lose his mind. Against his better judgement, he grabbed his sword and left his submarine to go back into the dark town. As he wandered around, he noticed how the dim lights mimicked stars, and all those stars led him down a straight path towards their place. Moths were around the lights like in his dream, in fact the alley looked eerily similar. Law forced himself not to think too hard on that, after all was he even thinking? He was walking over to some stranger’s studio in the middle of the night to ask questions, none of it made sense. It was late, they wouldn’t be awake. Before Law could even knock on the door, the door opened and Law was met by their piercing eyes. 

“You’re back,” They breathed out, their voice was smooth and rich, Law felt his breath hitch in his throat when he was able to see their hand that rested on the door. There was no mistaking that their tattoos were the same as his. 

“We need to talk,” Law quickly said, they offered no objections and opened their shop up for Law to walk inside. The warm atmosphere still was present, it contrasted the typically cold submarine he lived on. His eyes scanned them over in their casual night attire and felt his heart stop, he was hyper aware of every hair on his body, the electricity that was in the room. “We have the same tattoos,” Law said as he swallowed his shock away. Don’t stare, he ordered himself, but the tension between the two of them was thick. Their batting eyelashes, their soft smile, Law felt drunk off of them already. He watched as they shifted their weight onto one hip and how they pouted as they thought about what the captain spoke to them about.

“These? I’ve always had them,” They shared as they held up their hands to show off the tattoos that decorated their skin. Next, Law watched as they pulled the collar of their shirt down to show off the top part of their tattoo, it was the same as his and it was a little unnerving to see it so perfectly replicated on their skin. Not only was Law staring at the tattoo, he was staring at their skin, he let out a small breath and did his best to dim those thoughts in his sleep deprived brain. 

“How long,”  Law asked them. 

“Always. Like ever since you got them I suppose,” They shrugged. 

“So you know?” Law asked. 

“I’m not stupid, I know who you are, Trafalgar Law,” they said as they poked a finger at his built chest. The captain staggered back and frowned down at the person in front of him. “I’ve known it was you for a long time, I was just waiting for you to come and find me.”

“You sound like you’re just some fan,” Law stated with a small scowl on his face, he didn’t like the arrogance they were presenting. 

“Don’t test me, Law,” They snarled back as they grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and pushed him against the wall. Their hips met his as they got closer to glare at him. They weren’t aware of how close they were and how this proximity was slowly getting to Law’s head. Law decided to toss all sense of reason out, why should he care? His mind was swarming and he needed release desperately. 

“Oh yeah?” Law smirked, he looked down at where their bodies were touching and then back into their eyes. And just like he predicted, they gasped and tried to step back from him, but Law wouldn’t allow that. Law grabbed them by their hips and tsked when he saw their face slowly going red. “What happened to all that confidence from earlier, hm?” He purred into their ear, his large, calloused hand groped their rear and he chuckled at the gasp that escaped from their lips. 

“You’re such an ass!” They gasped, while they wanted to sound menacing, it didn’t seem to be working, Law was proving to be in control of the situation as of now, but it was clear that they were enjoying Law’s teasing. 

“I think you like me like this,” Law teased as his hand slipped under the back of their shirt. His fingers dragged up their spine and he drank in their heated expression. “How long did you fantasize about this?” Law asked as he pulled them back to look them in the eyes with an arrogant smirk on his face.

“I-I don’t -- “

“Lying? Oh my, are you sure you want to be doing that now?” Law asked as his free hand wandered down to their pants. He watched as their face contorted with need and want, but Law knew he had to resist for now no matter how tempting they were to him. He let out a small sigh and reluctantly pulled away from them, he watched as their expression contorted to dismay but he knew he needed to stop, he had to remember the gravity of his situation, their situation. 

“Did you think about what you were going to do once you found me?” Law decided to ask.

“It’s obvious, don’t you think? Go on your ship, er - submarine. I want to travel the world and see all the art that exists, and I also want to get to know you more,” They said before their eyes scanned over Law’s built figure, there would for sure be a lot to explore later on for sure. 

“What about your shop?” Law asked them. He watched as their lips curled into a small smirk and Law nearly felt his heart stop again. 

“I’ll bring it with me, I’ll travel and help other’s find their soulmates with my tattoos. Those who already needed my services here had me, I’m not needed here anymore,” they shared to the captain. There was suddenly silence as the two of them stared into each other’s eyes. 

“Then come with me,” Being this impulsive wasn’t usually Law’s forte, but with an opportunity like this, he knew he had to live it to the best of his ability. He was surprised to see how they grabbed his hand without any hesitation and smiled. 

“Let me lock up my shop,” They said before their adventure with Law began. All Law could recall was holding their hand, running through the dark streets and stopping here and there to fiercely kiss them in dark alleys on their way to the submarine. He remembered taking them to the submarine, dragging them to his room and the sound of clothes hitting the ground. Lips, hands, warm skin touching one another and soft sounds throughout the rest of the night. When Law woke up in the morning, his head felt empty, he was relaxed for once, he didn’t have another nightmare. That surprised him, were they the answer to his nightmares? The room seemed lighter, he was amazed with himself by how he just followed his heart like that. When he looked over to his side, he saw them sleeping next to him and he found himself softly smiling. He leaned in and kissed their shoulder and watched them stir in their sleep. This wasn’t what he had planned at all for his trip here, but he was pleasantly surprised with himself, affection always sprung up from the most unexpected places, didn’t it? Even if his tattoos didn’t age well and wrinkled into his skin when he was older, he knew that they both would age well by growing with one another, and that was enough for Law.

[wrctings]

just some (slightly angsty) eruri fluff for you all because i miss them 🥰

“And so when I snapped my fingers right beside him, I got his attention. Actually got it! I’ve never had a titan stare at me like this, so intensely,” Hanji’s eyes sparkled, aglow with both irrepressible enthusiasm and the warm reflection from the room’s candle light, her fingers eagerly curled around the handle of a cup. “If only you’d seen it... I think he may have finally recognised me, given all the time we spent together... But we have to wait and see. And there’s also that plant we brought back from the last expedition! It’s growing! We put it in a more humid zone, like where we found it, and it’s actually growing.”

Levi had always known Hanji was a little excessive. Well, really excessive for the most part - especially when she’d get into one of her endless tirades about titans, marvelling over their monstrous abilities and curious shape and reflexes and whatnot... Sometimes, it drove Levi up to the wall to watch their scientist go into raptures over the senseless beasts that had crushed or torn apart so many of their fallen comrades. Though, to be fair, he could hardly blame Hanji - she was with them, after all; among the first ranks during expeditions, flanked by the officers’ side. That titan-loving thing was just a quirk of hers, just like Levi’s own cleaning thing, which he suspected many of their subordinates looked upon as a curious and slightly frightening obsession.

So, more often than not, Levi patiently kept his mouth shut, listening to Hanji’s passionate rants and picking out the useful information only, letting the rest slide into oblivion. But tonight, Levi’s usual self-control act had been getting pushed toward its limit, a disgruntled frown hidden behind his cup of tea. And the reason? Always the same golden-haired bastard.

White sleeves rolled up to the elbows, torso leaning over the wooden table, his blue eyes bright and animated by the same radiant shimmer of curiosity as in Hanji’s gaze, Erwin was hanging onto his friend’s every word.

“So, if some plants can only survive in a special kind of climate, the outside world must be...”

“Full of plants yet unknown to us! And of landscapes we can’t even imagine! And if that plant we brought back can only thrive in a wet kind of environment...”

“...Maybe there’s a large pool of water somewhere further away, beyond the limit we stopped at last time!”

Levi cursed Hanji from the bottom of his heart. Erwin’s entire attention seemed to be focused on the subject, blind to the rest of the room.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here, we’re not quite sure of anything yet,” Moblit put his hands up with a sheepish smile, cooling off some of Hanji’s building elation. “First, let’s see how our titan and our plants fare in the upcoming weeks...”

“Our titan and our plants!” Hanji happily cried out, squeezing Moblit’s hand, cheeks burning red from excitement.

“Even if it’s only guesses, the captive titans and those plants can still provide precious information. It takes us one step closer to knowing the truth of the world,” Erwin’s hopeful and determined gaze met Hanji’s, both bound by a mutual fervour.

Levi silently watched them from the side, scowling. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t give a lesser shit about all of this - he wanted to rid the world of titans, to keep tightening until the last monster fell under their blades. Not bustle about captured titans in wonderment or waste time growing plants... In that moment, he resent their joy; joy sprung from the bloody cadavres of their comrades. Was this what they dedicated their heart for? Part of Levi knew perfectly well that, of course, all Hanji and Erwin gushed over was important to some degree. But he couldn’t quite share in their foolishness.

“Well, here’s to another step then,” Moblit raised his glass, smiling fondly when he caught a glimpse of the earnest exhilaration radiating off Hanji’s face. She did more often than not put him through the mill, but that’s also why he liked her, wasn’t it?

The other two officers followed Moblit’s lead, lifting their glasses up into the air, but before clinking them together Erwin shot a lighthearted look at Levi, raising his eyebrows as if asking the Captain to join in. With a muffled sigh, Levi shook his head reluctantly.

“Teacups aren’t meant for your drunken shit.”

He got away with a small movement of the hand, slowly shooting it upward in a way that made it seem he took part in the toast.

Erwin, Hanji, and Moblit drank on cordially, indulging in one of the rare merry celebrations they’d allow themselves to enjoy - the last expedition had been a success after all, with no casualties and only two superficially hurt soldiers! Such victories did truly raise the troops’ morale, so, in addition to the dinner feast everybody got to delight in, Erwin wanted to also congratulate the officers who had been working had on the expedition. Hence the wine. 

Only when the crepuscular haze of the night sky hovered over the barracks did the party begin to retire, tired grins and slightly dizzy heads wishing each other goodnight with remains of gaiety seeping through their lips; such a carefree, congenial time would probably be long to come again, so they had drunk from the brimming glass of furtive bliss until the very last honeyed drop dried out on their tongue. Waving Erwin and Levi goodnight, Hanji - held up by Moblit, bless his soul - stumbled around the corner of the corridor leading to her quarters, relying on the loyal shoulder that would help her get to her room safe and sound and not accidentally crash someplace else and carelessly pass out for the night. 

Much like Moblit, Levi had taken up the habit of bringing Erwin to his room after another day of exhausting work or a festive evening, watching the commander’s ever steady pace out of the corner of his attentive eye and listening to him jabber about whatever occupied his mind on that day, barely responding himself, but always paying silent attention to Erwin’s words. Although he didn’t admit it to his own self at first - he liked it. Liked having Erwin stroll beside him, his deep and slightly fatigued voice untangling the knots in Levi’s own head, keeping everything at bay but an inexplicable wave of... comfort. And, soon enough, the comfort had even turned into something more. 

“Did you enjoy the night, Levi?” Erwin inquired in his usual late-night chattery fashion, fingers already working the top buttons of his white shirt as the commander’s quarters arose in their field of vision.

The only answer he got out of Levi was a grunt, the short Captain pushing the door before them open. It slammed against the wall a little too harshly.

“Something on your mind?” Erwin persevered, trying to read the other man’s crossed features. 

“Alright.” Levi ended up conceding, a resigned sigh escaping the vexed line of his mouth. “Erwin, I can’t seem to give the slightest crap about those shitty plants.”

“Ah, Hanji may convince you they’re—” Erwin started again, smiling at what he thought was just a heedless comment of Levi’s, but the way he was interrupted soon let him guess otherwise.

“No, you don’t understand. I don’t get excited like you brats. I just... Don’t. I can’t bring myself to care about shitty glasses’ experiments. Or even... That stuff you talked about,” Levi waved his hand vaguely, hoping it was allusive enough.

A thoughtful moment’s silence passed, Erwin considering what Levi had just admitted - he began to recall now how retiring Levi had indeed seemed during tonight’s celebration, quietly grumbling by himself and even cutting short on the playful insults he would usually hand out.

“I’m sorry that you didn’t have fun tonight, Levi.”

“Feel sorry for yourself. You’re the one stuck with a killjoy of a brat,” Levi attempted a sarcastic smile, but it came out distorted by a hint of sad resignation. Ever since he and Erwin had... this - whatever it was called - Levi didn’t hold back as much as he used to anymore; something about Erwin’s kind understanding, no matter the slander ghosts clouding the Captain’s mind, put him at ease. So Levi spoke his mind.

“Sorry?”

Erwin’s reassuring arms twined around Levi’s torso, the commander’s head settling on top of his - the height difference, Levi had to admit, was convenient -, and he planted a long kiss on top of his head; the first real one of the day, after the hasty pecks he had stolen from Levi in between tasks. For Levi, those intimate hours were dreams he’d never wish to wake up from. “Why should I feel sorry, when I can’t believe my luck?”

“I’m not exactly the funniest person you can find, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“And so what? I, for one thing, think you are funny. Your dark humour may take some getting used to at first, but afterwards, you crack me up, my dear,” Erwin mused, littering Levi’s neck with sloppy kisses. “I love you.”

“You’re a terrible liar, Erwin.”

However, Levi’s heavy heart did feel lighter already; to feel Erwin’s lips on his skin, his warm hands fiddling with Levi’s uniform to help him take it off, his precious words whispered against his ear - for Levi, and Levi only, to hear and treasure and greedily take for himself - soothes the Captain’s unexpected rush of self-depreciation. But seeing how happy Erwin had looked while talking to Hanji and Moblit had left a painful imprint Levi struggled to erase from his memory. What if... what if he’d never make Erwin this happy?

“Levi, I don’t care that you don’t get excited over shitty plants. You and I can care about different things and still care about each other too, yeah?” Levi felt the nuzzle in his neck send shivers down his spine, another one of Erwin’s kisses mending the cracks in his heart one by one. “I know you press my shirts whenever they get too creased. You bring coffee and food to my office when I’m working too much. You take Hanji’s laundry into her room when she forgets it. You help the recruits who fall behind in training...” Erwin kept on talking, going around Levi to face him in the candlelit room, until his nose gently bumped against his, and their lips met in what Levi could only describe as solace. “The list goes on and on. These are all the things you care about. And I love you for it.”

“...It seems your sappy stuff still gets me. You shitty, sentimental brat,” Levi drowned a teary chuckle in Erwin’s chest, clutching the fabric of the commander’s uniform in his fist. Then, he retired in his cat-like fashion, starting to ondo the buttons Erwin had started to work on. “I had no idea you were fucking spying on me the entire time.”

“Your fault.” Erwin followed Levi’s lead, getting rid of his own uniform before he slipped into bed, a tired look softening his features, and loose strands of hair falling out of place upon his forehead.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Levi joined him, huddling beneath the clean and cosy bedsheets, and brushed the hair away from Erwin’s face, savouring its end-of-the-day softness between his fingers.

“It’s your fault for having such a beautiful soul.”

“A beautiful soul?” Levi scoffed gently, pressing his shoulder against Erwin’s. “Never heard anything this stupid before.”

“It’s true. You may not believe me yet, but I’ll keep doing this” Erwin took Levi’s hand in his, kissing his calloused knuckles - “and this” -, then wrist - “and this”, then forearm, “and this, until you do.”

“I’m no sap like you, so it might take a while...,” Levi murmured in return, pressing a kiss into Erwin’s neck. A beautiful soul? Never before had Levi heard such words - and never before had his heart skipped a beat like it did when they struck him.

“It’s okay,” Erwin cuddled up to Levi, not suppressing a deep contented sigh when the other man’s nails gently raked his scalp, playing with his hair. “I won’t quit.”

[cycwrites]

WIP Things aka Unofficial Fic Tease

In order to remind myself that I’ve left all of you hanging for the rest of my trilogy rewrite, I thought I would post my unbeta’d, unedited, good with the bad chapter 1 for the second movie. I also have hope that it will make me feel guilty for taking so damn long and get back to it. Especially since I’ve basically closed myself off from writing (and the muses) and I’m trying to pry the doors back open because I really do miss sharing my stories with you guys.

I wrote this well over a year ago, along with a 2nd chapter that deals with the Dean’s office, and really just hope you like it. 

--------

About Damn Time 

Chapter One: So That Happened

Word Count: 2600 -------- ~B~

At the end of Beca’s junior year, two things of note happened.

First: Chloe, once again, made the decision to stay with Beca and the Bellas and failed Russian Lit for the third time.  Beca had tried to talk her out of it, torn between wanting Chloe to move forward in her life beyond Barden and guilt that she was relieved they wouldn’t have to figure out how to work a long distance relationship. She wasn’t ready to try that and couldn’t imagine leading the group without her.  But Chloe had insisted this was where she’d wanted to be and she didn’t feel like she was missing out on anything.

Second: The Bellas were asked to perform at President Obama’s 50th birthday celebration at the Kennedy Center on August 8th.

Beca had laughed when the call had come through the never used landline at the Bella house.

“Good afternoon, this is Mack Johnson and I’m calling on behalf of the White House…”

“Yeah right. Nice try, Jesse.” She hung up and pulled out her cell phone as she walked into the kitchen. Pausing by the counter she typed out a quick message to him.

Beca: I’ve gotta give you points for originality though. You almost sounded like an actual adult.

She poured herself a glass of lemonade before he answered.

Jesse: I’m going to take that as a compliment and ignore the wound to my manly pride, but I have no idea what you’re talking about.

Beca: Whatever you say, ‘Mack.’ If you’d said you were calling from anywhere but the White House I might’ve let you keep talking.

Instead of answering via text, Jesse called her.

“Are you day drinking, Mitchell?” Jesse clucked his tongue. “Without your lesbro? I’m hurt, Becaw.”

“I was going to ask you the same thing.” Beca lifted her glass and took a sip. “What inspired your call today?”

“Uh, your cryptic and confusing texts to me, of course.” Jesse chuckled. “Want to clue me in?”

Beca sighed. “Man you’re committed to this.”

“To what?”

Beca set her glass on the counter. “Fine – you just called me and –” She jumped as the phone in the living room rang for only the second time in her years at Barden. “Pretended… to be… from the White House.”

“I thought you said you weren’t drinking?” Jesse laughed but it sounded distant as Beca watched Chloe answer the phone.

Her girlfriend’s blue eyes went wide and locked on Beca’s as she said, “I’m sorry, did you say you’re calling from the White House?”

“Jesse?” Beca said absently.

“Yes, Beca?” His voice took on an echo as all the blood drained from her face.

“I gotta go pass out now.” She swallowed dryly. “I’ll call you later.”

“Beca wa-”

Beca had remained frozen in the kitchen while Chloe became more and more animated, frantically scribbling down notes on the notepad sitting beside the phone, though her voice was carefully calm and collected. Then she’d run into the kitchen, screaming and jumping in excitement and talking faster than Beca’s shocked mind could process. Drawn by the commotion like a frat boy to a kegger, the rest of the girls soon joined the chaos while Beca still stood frozen by the counter as they swirled around her.

The school had allowed them to stay on campus through the summer so they could discuss songs and choreography. The time had been a whirlwind of security checks and practice and everything they planned needed to be vetted by the performance organizers. Of course, since they’d come to the Bellas after their third ICCA win in a row, there weren’t any real problems.

Until the night of the performance when one set of tangled silks and a desire for no panty lines wrecked everything.

No pun intended.

~B~ Sunday, August 24th, 2014

Beca lay on their bed and stared at the ceiling, listening to Chloe pace beside her.

“I’ve ruined everything.” Pace to the head of the bed. “Destroyed our reputation.” Pace back to the foot. “Made the Bellas a joke.”

Beca sighed and pushed herself up on her elbows. “Chloe. It’s a capella. It’s already a jo-” She stopped as Chloe spun to face her, outraged. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.” Beca tried a smile. “I was just trying to lighten the mood.” She let it slip when Chloe just stared at her and Beca dropped back down to gaze at the ceiling. “Won’t make that mistake again.”

“I’m the one who gave Amy the green-light to do ‘Wrecking Ball.’” Chloe resumed pacing.

“Because, despite most of her claims, she actually had done some training on the silks before coming to the states.” Beca countered, as she had for the past three weeks. “She was good on them and never once in our rehearsals did she get tangled up.”

“But-”

“No.” Beca cut her off and sat up, pulling her legs up to sit cross legged and face her. “We all agreed to let her do it. It was a group vote.” She softened her voice and held out her hand. “This isn’t all on you, Chlo.”

With a sigh, Chloe took her hand and let herself be tugged onto the bed. Beca stretched back out and Chloe settled against her side. “It feels like it.”

“That’s because you’re the one who looks out for us.” Beca gently rubbed her back. “No one could’ve predicted this, love.”

“No…” Chloe said grudgingly. “But…”

Beca cut her off again. “There’s no buts.”

“Except Amy’s.” Chloe huffed, tension that had begun to fade making her stiffen up again in Beca’s arms. “All over the news.” She groaned. “Why didn’t I just use the cloth I was freaking holding to cover her up?”

“Same reason I didn’t,” Beca said reasonably, having heard a version of this several times before. “My mind went blank and I couldn’t move. I just… kept waiting to wake up.”

“Same.” Chloe pressed her nose to Beca’s shoulder. “I still am. This is such a nightmare.”

“She feels bad.” Beca offered. “It was her idea to do that press conference.” She winced as Chloe snorted.

“Yeah, where she then tried to show her ‘silk burn’ to the entire world.” Chloe sat up and pushed herself off the bed. “Again.” She resumed pacing and Beca’s mind hunted around for anything she could say to defuse things.

“At least we saved Aubrey’s college legacy from Pukegate?” Even as the words were out of her mouth Beca knew they were stupid and wrong.

“And ruined ours with Muffgate.” Chloe snarled.

“I wish I could find the asshole that came up with that. Bet it was those podcast people and of course everyone else jumped on it.” Beca made a face. “It was an accident and eventually there will be another crisis for them to focus on.” She slid over to the edge of the bed and swung her legs over. “It won’t be forever, Chlo.”

Pace, turn. “But tomorrow we go see the Dean.” Pace, turn. “With those podcast people who are apparently actually part of the Collegiate A Cappella Association.”

“They’re still weird and he’s an ass.” Beca stood up and stretched as she heard the door open at the bottom of the stairs. “Think you’ll be able to enjoy yourself at dinner tonight?”

Chloe stopped by the small table they inherited from Aubrey and took a deep breath. “Of course. It’s Amy’s birthday. I’m not going to ruin it for her.” She flashed Beca a small grin, the first in an hour. “Why do you think I’m up here instead of downstairs?”

“Speaking of,” a new voice said from the stairs. “There’s maybe… A situation.” Jessica smiled apologetically when they both looked at her as she reached the top.

Beca sighed. “Of course there is.”

“Do I even want to know?” Chloe pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Probably not, but Stacie sent me to get you.”

“Coward,” Beca muttered. “She knows I can’t hit you because you’re too nice.” She took a deep breath. “Okay, quick like ripping off a band-aid.”

“Amy’s sitting on the couch. With a towel on her lap.” Jessica hesitated.

“That’s… Why is that a big deal?” Chloe asked, confused.

“She’s… commando. Because of her silk burn.” The blonde’s shoulders bounced once but she didn’t say anything else.

“I swear to fucking god I’m going to glue underwear on her,” Chloe muttered under her breath.

Beca was struck by a horrible thought. “Is she sitting on another towel?”

“We were afraid she’d show us if we asked.” Jessica looked at Beca. “That’s when Stacie sent me to get you.”

“Why do I have to do it?” Beca knew she was whining but couldn’t help it.

“Because you’re the captain.” Jessica shrugged again. “You can threaten her with cardio if she tries to flash us again.”

“Yeah but Amy doesn’t always listen to me and I don’t want to have flashbacks.” Beca reluctantly headed for the stairs as Jessica started back down.

“Birthday or not…” Chloe muttered as she followed.

“I’m sure Lilly has a hot glue gun you can use,” Beca mused, not surprised to find Ashley hanging out in the hallway when they left the attic.

“Don’t tempt me.” Chloe didn’t say anything else the entire trip down the stairs.

Beca rounded the corner, passing Jessica and Ashley who had stopped in the entry and came to a halt herself, Chloe running into her back.

All she could see was the back of Amy’s head but she appeared to be looking straight at Lilly who sat cross-legged on the ottoman and staring back.

“Do I even want to know?” Beca turned her head toward Jessica but didn’t take her eyes off the scene.

“I didn’t ask that either,” came the whispered reply.

Beca took a bracing breath then walked into the living room. Despite the reassurance that the covering towel existed, Beca didn’t relax until she saw it for herself. It was nothing personal against Amy, but Beca just didn’t want to see any of the Bellas naked, Chloe being the obvious exception. You never knew when the visual would pop back in your head and Amy had already shown up enough in the past few weeks to last a lifetime.

“Amy.” Beca looked up at a sound from the kitchen and saw Stacie leaning in the doorway with Cynthia Rose and Flo sitting at the center island.

“Captain.” Amy didn’t turn her head or avert her gaze.

“Are you guys in a staring contest?” Beca frowned, looking between the two women. “And if so why?”

“I don’t know,” Amy lifted one shoulder. “All I know is she hasn’t blinked since she sat down and why take the risk of losing.”

Beca felt her eyes twitch at the thought. “Jesus, please cut it out before my eyes start watering.” She stepped between them and Amy closed her eyes in relief.

“Thanks, Shawshank. That was starting to burn.” She started to lift one corner of the towel to wipe her eyes and Beca threw out her hand.

“Nope. That stays there.” Chloe said it before Beca could.

“Please tell me you’re sitting on another towel.” Beca sighed and ran her hand through her hair.

“Of course I am!” Amy actually looked indignant. “I’m not a heathen, Beca.” She rolled her eyes. “The pants I want to wear to dinner are tight, so I’m giving my bits time to breathe first.”

“Now that’s in my head.” Cynthia Rose muttered from the kitchen.

“That’s in all our heads,” Ashley said from the doorway behind them.

“You could always wear that blue skirt,” Chloe offered diplomatically. “That way you’re not uncomfortable for your birthday dinner.”

“I do look hot in that.” Amy thought about it while the rest of them made sounds of agreement. “Alright, you’ve swayed me. And as it’s almost that time, guess I’ll go upstairs and change.” She started to stand as Beca moved back then paused. “If you’d all turn around and give me some privacy while I wrap?”

Beca rolled her eyes as she turned to face the front window that, thankfully, had the curtains drawn. “That’s what you get for being half naked in the public areas of the house.”

“I got bored in my room.” Beca heard Amy stand up and the rustle of fabric. “Alright, I’m decent.”

“Hey!”

Beca jumped at the unexpected shout and looked over her shoulder. Stacie had come out of the kitchen and was pointing at the couch.

“That’s my favorite towel!” Outage filled her face. “I was looking for that for over a week!”

“It’s also the softest towel in the house.” Amy said as she picked it up, tucking the other firmly around her waist. “It’s the only thing that doesn’t hurt when I’m sitting.”

A choked sound from behind her brought Beca’s eyes back around to Chloe, who was biting the inside of her cheek and trying not to giggle. “I’m sure she’ll wash it before she gives it back.”

Beca tried to choke back her laugh and ended up sounding like a pug with a cold as she snickered into her hand.

“I think…” Stacie sighed. “Happy Birthday, Amy. It’s all yours.”

“You sure, Stretch?” Amy threw the towel in question over her shoulder. “I don’t think I’ll need it for much longer.”

“Yup.” Stacie nodded emphatically. “I’ll go get another one this weekend.”

“Thanks, Stacie.” Amy smiled at her before her lips twisted slightly. “Sorry I didn’t ask first.”

“’S okay.” Stacie shrugged. “Now go get changed so we can celebrate your day.”

“Are you allowed to give me orders on my birthday?” Amy mused as she headed for the stairs.

“Probably not,” Beca said. “But I’ll probably do it anyway.”

“Bossy.” Chloe whispered behind her and Beca flashed her a grin.

“Alright.” Beca clapped her hands once. “Show’s over, let’s go get our party outfits on and get some grub. We’ve got a Bella to celebrate.”

Stacie walked past her, shaking her head. “Bossy.”

Beca let her head fall back as she stared at the ceiling. “I can’t with you two.”

“What?” Stacie paused in the door to the entry. “Did we do the thing again?”

“Yup.” Chloe pushed Beca toward the stairs. “I called her that thirty seconds ago.” She high fived Stacie over Beca’s shoulder when the tall woman grinned and held out her hand.

“Score one for us.” Stacie laughed and started up the stairs.

“I hate you guys.” Beca said weakly as she followed.

“Liar,” Chloe laughed and ran her hand down Beca’s back.

“Maybe.” Beca let Chloe go before her.

“Definitely.”

“Yeah yeah,” Beca waved her up the stairs, unable to help admiring the way Chloe’s muscles flexed as she moved. “But seriously, my stomach just woke up and if I don’t feed it soon it’s going to take over the world.”

“Aye aye, Captain.” Stacie saluted as she stepped into her room.

“Smartass,” Beca threw back.

“And you love it.” Stacie closed the door with a laugh.

“Stop flirting with Stacie and let’s go change before you get hangry.” Chloe took her hand and tugged on it.

“She wishes,” Beca muttered but followed Chloe up to their room, ignoring the ‘Often’ that came from Stacie’s room behind them.

‘She’s got bat hearing, I swear.’ Beca thought to herself as she went to the closet to get her outfit for the night.

Tomorrow was still looming over them, but Beca pushed it all away, determined to think about Amy and the Bellas for the rest of the night.

It was one mistake and they’d just won three years in a row. Surely they weren’t in that much trouble.

Right?

[ediths]

All The Things I Didn’t Say

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Word Count: Exactly 3,443

Summary: You and Harry get into a fight and the things he never told you tear him up inside.

A/N: This is my first ever Harry fic, I hope you enjoy it! (Sorry if it sucks I tried) ~also thank you @fancyxholland for beta reading this, I cannot thank you enough love:)~

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*

It had been weeks since you last talked. You had been doing everything in your power to avoid the green eyed devil, scared that one simple glance in your direction could make you fall for him all over again. And that wasn’t something that you were ready for. You weren’t able to willingly put yourself in that position again.

You weren’t going to allow him to demolish your heart like he did the last time you saw him. You were still broken from then, and you really don’t know if you could handle another heartbreak, especially not this soon.

You hadn’t slept right since you split, not being used to his side of the bed being cold all the time. You washed the sheets and everything that smelled like him almost instantly after he left the house. You couldn’t bear to smell him all the time. You knew that keeping the scent of him lingering in your house would make you latch onto him even more than you already were.

You hadn’t eaten a proper meal in what feels like forever, your body barely having enough energy to get you to the bathroom. 

It was safe to say that Harry left you broken. But can you really blame it all on him? Was it really justified of you to do so?

Maybe. He was the one that went off on you, yelled and screamed and hit every place he knew would tear you apart.

But maybe not. Maybe it was your fault. You hadn’t paid attention to him, not noticing that he was clearly hurting. You tried to push him into going out when he oh so clearly didn’t want to.

There was also the fact that you kicked him out, told him to get out of your face and to not come back, without even letting him explain himself. 

You found yourself in front of the tv most days, not really paying attention to whatever was playing, just needing the background noise now that you didn’t have Harry to hum to you or to strum his guitar while working on new material. 

Every single time you found yourself there, you let your mind wander. Let yourself believe that maybe he was missing you as much as you were missing him. That maybe he was thinking about you.

You were aware of the fact that wasn’t healthy, that the last thing you  should be doing while trying to get over him was to let him run rampant in your mind, but you couldn’t help it.

He was your everything. He had been since the moment that you met him, his green eyes seemingly brightening every dark corner of your life. He made you feel like you could breathe fresh air for the first time ever. It was like you had always been breathing the same, a little labored but unnoticed because that’s how it always was, but then he came into your life and showed you everything that you had been missing.

It was worse now than it was before. This time, you knew what you were missing. The laboring breaths from before meeting him were coming back, but this time that’s all you could focus on. You were so used to feeling complete that it physically hurt to not be around him. To not have him to keep you company. To not be able to kiss his lips or hold him close. 

Your life felt incomplete, so yeah, at times, you let your mind wander to the times when it felt like you weren’t going to fall apart from the slightest breeze.

*

God, he missed you. He pasted on a smile and acted like nothing was wrong around everyone, posing for the media, but the second he got home, everything was different. 

Usually, he would either do his own hair - him being a fully capable adult and all - or you would do it for him, letting him enjoy the feeling of your fingers raking through his locks.

But now, the way his curls were done was a completely different story. He either had his hair stylist come over before he went out anywhere, or - more often that not - he went around looking disheveled.

Even though he had tried his best to hide it, those closest to him saw. Mitch caught the dark bags under his eyes. Sarah quickly caught onto the fact that when he was crying during rehearsals, it was because all of his songs were about you.

You had been his muse.

You were the inspiration behind everything that he did, and he no longer felt like he could function. You had been gone for all of a few weeks and he was falling apart, unable to pull himself back together.

The songs had stopped being written, the interviews had stopped being scheduled, his whole entire life came to a screeching halt. All because he no longer had you. 

Not that he could blame you. You had every right to make him leave, to look at him and tell him to never think about you again. He was the one who took out all his anger at you, the one person he didn’t want to lose his cool to. 

He had tried, he had done nothing but try for the entire time that you had been apart to do exactly what you had asked. To forget about you, to not think about you in the slightest.

He really did. But things didn’t work out that way. Every time that he had tried to write a song, he had ended up writing you a letter. There weren’t many, seeing as he had soon realized that they were going nowhere. 

He knew that you didn’t want to talk to him, that you didn’t want to hear a word that came from him. If you really wanted him back, you would make the first move, that’s how you are, how you always have been. 

So he wrote them and laid them on his desk, allowing them to haunt him every moment he was in their general vicinity.

*

All you wanted was to hear from him. It had been weeks, if he really wanted you back he would have reached out, Harry wasn’t the guy that just sat back and waited for things to come to him. He knew what he wanted and he went after those things with his eye on the prize, never stopping until he made his goal.

Which means that his goal wasn’t to get you back. Maybe he just really didn’t want you. 

You couldn’t blame him for it, you had been distant and ignoring all his signs probably weeks before the fight. You made him think that you didn’t care and he was completely justified in wanting something else, something better, with someone that actually deserved him.

You knew him, however, he was going to make sure that you had moved on before he did, wouldn’t want to date someone else while you’re still heartbroken. The only problem with that is that you don’t know if you’ll ever be okay without him. Not a single part of you can see yourself moving on.

So you do what you do every time something goes wrong. You fake the happiness. You fake the fact that you’re okay. You plaster on a smile and hope that it’s believable enough to make people stop worrying.

A part of you knows that this won’t be enough this time, though, so you go the extra step. You block his number. If he tries to text, it won’t go through. That’s the only way that he can get ahold of you. He never used Instagram, knowing his messages to you could easily get lost in the thousands he gets from fans every single day.

It takes you a pretty long time, and a whole lot of willpower, but after you do block his only means of contact, it feels as if there’s a weight lifted off of your shoulders. It’s a lot easier to pretend to be happy if the thing that’s making you upset isn’t looming over your head.

Everything had been foggy since you made Harry leave, but this made at least one thing clear. You were going to be alright, at least a little more than you had been for the past few weeks. You may have to fake it for a little while, but the first step to feeling better had already been taken.

*

He was not going to be alright. His friends kept telling him that he would be, that she was just another girl in a sea of millions more. But that wasn’t true. They all knew it wasn’t true. They just wanted the old Harry back. They wanted their friend back.

The guy that used to go out every weekend with his friends and celebrate, if nothing else, surviving another week, was gone. Left behind was the shell of a man that was broken into a million pieces and being held together by the scotch tape that he called his fake smile.

He had gone out with his friends tonight, though. He had wanted them to have some fun and knew that they felt bad for doing so if he couldn’t have fun too. 

He had filled himself with alcohol, taking shot after shot until your face was blurry in his mind. He had poured liquid courage into glass after glass until he found himself composing text messages to you and sending them. The only things left in his mind were what you would say and him hoping that his autocorrect was working well tonight.

I miss you, shouldn’t have blown up. I also should’ve contacted you earlier, was stupid not to God I love you so much, I can’t sleep without you, feels wrong laying in bed without you curled up next to me

He took another look at his phone, fighting to get through the blurr to see if you had received them. And to his horror, they weren’t going through. You had blocked him. 

So he had his next drunken idea, he was going to send the letters. Actually, no, he was going to take you the letters. 

But there was still one more that he needed to write.

*

You weren’t a good actor. You really tried, but your forced smile didn’t go unnoticed by your friends. They knew you, probably better than you know yourself, so when they look at you and give you smiles of pity and try to get you a new guy to hookup with, you know that you’re not doing well at convincing them in the slightest.

You can’t even bring yourself to contradict them. They’re right. You miss Harry. You miss his hugs and the way that his scent would cling to anything that he touched, even for a second. You missed the way his seafoam green irises would stare into your eyes as if you were the only person in the world. He would listen to you as if your words were more important than anything that he had ever heard.

Why didn’t you do the same?

Why didn’t you pay attention?

Why didn’t you see that he was hurting?

Or did you? Did you see it and just chose to ignore it, too caught up in your perfect little world?

At this point, you couldn’t say, the only thing that you know is you want Harry back. You can’t breathe without him. You’re no better now than you were when you made him leave.

You just wanted him to come back to you.

*

Y/N,

Hello, Um, I’ve never written a love letter to anyone but you, and this is the first one I’m writing with the intent of giving it to you, so I apologize if this sounds crazy.

I miss you. So fucking much. I never knew that someone could miss another person this much. I miss you when I’m trying to sleep and you’re not there to cuddle up with me. I miss you when I’m cooking and you’re not there to sit on the counter and taste test for me. I miss you when I’m getting ready in the mornings, wishing that your fingers were working their way through my crazy hair and not my own.

But most of all, I miss driving with you. I miss having you in my passenger seat. I miss having you there to pick the music and keep everything light and airy. I miss holding your hand and drawing random patterns on your knuckles. I miss the way you would study each of the tattoos that you could see every single time that we would get into the car. You would look over them, trace each little line like it was the first time you had ever seen them.

You make me feel like art, even when I don’t feel so hot. You make me see the best in life.

I’m so fucking sorry Y/N. I shouldn’t have blown up at you. I should have sat down and talked to you like good boyfriends do. I should have just stopped getting in my own head and opened up to you.

We’d never fought like that. Sure, we’d argue over the miniscule things, but we never let it get this bad. I shouldn’t have let it get that bad. I should have manned up and told you why I was being distant towards you.

I never meant to hurt you. I really didn’t. But I know that I did break your heart. I could see it in the way you looked at me.

I’m not asking that you take me back, that would be pretty narcissistic of me, thinking that if I ask, you’ll just welcome me back with open arms.

I don’t expect that of you. I broke your heart. I know that.

All I’m asking is that you give me the chance, at some point, to let me put it back together.

(Hopefully) Yours,

H

He sealed the envelope and worked up the courage to drive to your house. He didn’t even know if you’d be there. Or if you were, if you’d be there alone. You could have easily moved on from him. It wouldn’t have been hard for you. Any guy would be blessed to have you in their life. 

He just hoped that you had been missing him even a fraction of how much he missed you.

Before he could overthink it too much, he grabbed the envelopes, sought out his keys, and made his way to the house you used to share.

On the drive there, he left the radio off, not being able to concentrate on anything else besides the worry that you hated him.

You couldn’t hate him. Could you?

Harry couldn’t remember the drive to your house being so long. How did he have this much time to doubt everything?

He was not like this. He never doubted himself. He always had faith in himself. He knew that people liked him, and he took a certain amount of pride in that. 

But he was none of those things around you. He was anxious. He wanted you to come back to him. He was hoping that maybe, just maybe, you would give him a second chance. 

It’s going to be fine. She’ll read the letters and you’ll at least get to see her face one more time, Harry says continuously to himself as he walks up to your door and rings the bell.

*

You hadn’t invited anybody over. You don’t know who could possibly be at your door. Unless it was those girl scouts coming back to sell their cookies. Little do they know that you don’t even like them. Harry’s the one with the love for them. He’s the one that buys every box that they have on them every time.

You groan and pull yourself out of bed, trudging to the door to break the news to the girls. You expect a few hurt faces that’ll guilt you into buying a few boxes and giving them away.

What you don’t expect is to find the curly haired man when you open the door.

You open your mouth to speak, but he stops you, “Look, I know. You don’t want to see me. I just- I need to give you these. I-I’ve been trying to leave you be but,” he reached his free hand up to run through his unruly curls, “I can’t stop thinking about you. And I know, I messed up, I don’t deserve to even be here right now.” He pauses for a moment to take a deep breath and you try to speak again but he’s faster. “I don’t expect anything, I just ask that you read these letters. It’s all the things I didn’t say. I know that doesn’t make up for it, I just want you to read them. Please.”

“H…” you breathe, trying to find the right words.

“Anyway, yeah. Um, here.” he hands you the letters and turns around, “I’m going to give you time to read them. If you wanna talk, you have my number. If not, I get it.”

You watch him walk for a moment, wondering if what you’re about to do is a good idea. But honestly, you don’t care. You miss him way too much to let him walk away again.

“H, wait!” he stops but doesn’t turn around. “Come back, please. I miss you. I just- I’m sorry.” He turns around and slowly makes his way towards you, as if moving with caution.

“Really? Are you going to read the letters still?” He looks nervous, waiting for you to confirm or deny whether you’re playing with his heart.

“I’m still going to read the letters, I just want you here with me.” 

*

He can feel himself relax, his mind slowing down the marathon it had been running since he began his journey to your house. 

You were going to read the letters. You missed him. Maybe you would give him a chance.

He hoped so. God, he hoped so. He wanted you back so bad that he would do literally anything in the world to have you back in his arms.

He would spend his entire life making it up to you, whether you were his or not.

*

You open the first letter and begin to read.

Y/N,

So I know we’re not talking, but everyone says maybe this will help me. My therapist says maybe this can make it easier for me to sleep. So here I go.

I’m such an idiot, I messed up the best thing in my life. I see you in everything that I do and everywhere that I go. I’m trying to give you your space. Trying to let you have whatever you want. I’m trying so hard darling. But it’s so hard.

I’m not used to sleeping in a bed without you in it. I’m not used to not having you to curl around and the scent of your shampoo to breathe in. 

I can’t leave the house without thinking that you should be coming with me. I can’t drive without wishing that you were in my passenger seat.

I can’t do this without you. I don’t know how I ever lived without you before, and I definitely don’t know how I’m going to do so now.

I guess I’m going to try to sleep now.

Yours

Harry

You look up at him with tears in your eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for? You haven’t done anything wrong?” He questions.

“You haven’t been able to sleep.” You crawl from your place on the couch over to him, looking at him for consent before cuddling into his side.

“It’s alright, darling. I deserved it.” He squeezes you closer to his body and you can feel every muscle in your body relax. “You still have more letters to read.” He whispers.

“Can I read them tomorrow? Missed you too much to be reading anything when I could be looking at your face.” You mumble, causing him to chuckle and look down at you.

“We can do whatever you want, darling.” He says, granting you a small smile.

“Good, because I wanna cuddle in our bed and actually get a good night's sleep.” You yawn, sleep already coming easier to you now that he was back.

“That sounds good to me, love. Come on, let’s go to bed.” He picks you up, carrying you to your room. And that’s when it hits you.

You have Harry back.

Permanent Taglist: @spideygirl2003, @jackiehollanderr, @scarletsoldierrr, @thewayilookatbacon,  @lost-in-the-stars03, @kisses-holland, @josiemara, @god-knows-what-am-i-doing, @fanficscuziranout, @babebenhardy @write-from-the-heart @slytherinambitious,  @parker-barnes-af, @akila-stilinski

Harry Styles Taglist: (empty as of right now)

[snarkwrites]

ssw | juice ortiz ; when he can't go any deeper | m

Notes:

Okay so here's the thing.. This is a bit of a glimpse into the future / what if for a fic I'm about to start writing.. well, re-writing. Despite me knowing jack fuckall about strip clubs / exotic dancing / how to describe someone giving or getting a lapdance or pole work, I got the idea to have Hazel working two nights a week in a club, idk why.. Anyway.. The idea wouldn't leave me alone so here we are, loves.

Also.. I'm no longer just dipping my toes in the filth pool anymore. I went all in with this, oops rip. If anyone wants me to actually write the fic I have in mind for this... Pls.. I beg.. LMK.

Prompts:

taken from either [ HERE ] or [ HERE ] give or take. It could be one or the other or a mix of both at my own choosing.

kiss me up against the wall // moan my name as you come // when he can't go any deeper. - those were all the inspiration / prompts for this.

Fandom / Character:

Sons Of Anarchy / Juice Ortiz x Teller Morrow!OFC, Hazel

Fics Hazel can be found in:

None..Yet.

** the one I've used her in is being discontinued to do a rewrite.**

Warnings:

No minors, full stop. There is NSFW / adult content ahead. If you're underage, this was not meant for you -nor should you be reading this. If you choose to stick around after my warnings, this is strictly a you thing and it's not my problem or fault.

If you choose to go on and read this, these are the things present you need to be aware of: stripper!ofc - I admit.. I really am not too sure on how strip clubs operate, so.. if I'm wrong, sorry. lap dancing. thigh riding. body fluids tw. unprotected sex. That's pretty much it.

Tagging:

@brithedemonspawn

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@kyleoreillysknee

@sassymox

@twistnet

Other Stuff:

[ ABOUT MY WRITING | TAG LIST DOC - IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED, THAT IS. | FANDOMS I WRITE FOR]

I swear I wanted to melt into the floor when I happened to glance out in the crowd and see Juice Ortiz sitting in the back with his eyes glued to the stage. I froze where I stood behind the curtain peering out and for a good five seconds, I heavily contemplated just bolting out the back door of the club.

But if I did that, I’d be out of the killer tips I’ve been told I could get dancing at this place. I wouldn’t have an outlet to express myself freely, either.

,, I had to know this would happen sooner or later. Charming is a small town and the guys from Samcro do come to this club. Even taking the audition and showing up tonight was me, taking a huge risk… So I had to know this would’ve happened at some point if I actually get the gig.” the thought came and I took three deep breaths. The hope was that I’d center myself.

Spoiler alert… it did not happen.

But I did catch sight of a brunette wig. And I convinced myself that between the wig and the dim lighting and the fact that Juice was so far away from the front of the club where I’d be dancing on the stage, he wouldn’t figure it out.

I’d just finished putting on the wig when the club owner cleared his throat and nodded to the curtains in front of me. “You’re up, kid. Do this right and Tuesdays and Thursdays are yours. Fuck it up and you can forget ever getting a chance to try again.”

I scoffed at him for a second or two but he stared me down, humorless.

My favorite Motley Crue song began to play and I stepped through the curtain. Out onto the stage and just as I did, I happened to see that prick AJ Weston and the guy who bought one of the shops downtown making their way to the table right in front of me.

My stomach dropped.

Those cold and emotionless eyes locked on me and he smirked. Nodding to me and leaning in to the shop owner. His best buddy or whatever. I don’t try and keep up with whose pissed off my father day by day, so I didn’t exactly know names.

All I did know was that for whatever reason, my mother’s scared to death of AJ Weston. She thinks she hides it, but she doesn’t. And my mother is not a woman who scares easily.

Suddenly, my biggest worry wasn’t Juice sitting in the back of the club anymore. It was the prick sitting right in front of the stage. I strutted out on the stage, not bothering to make eye contact with AJ Weston, no matter how hard I could feel him staring at me, willing me to do so. I tore off the cropped leather jacket I wore over my favorite red lace bra and after twirling it in the air a time or two, I tossed it onto the stage, hitting the floor. Writhing. Arching my back and crawling around, whipping my hair around to the song playing. I kept away from the center of the stage because I did not want to lock eyes with AJ Weston. I literally had zero desire.

The crowd was starting to get into it. I started to feel that rush like I used to feel when I danced in Las Vegas. I completely forgot about AJ Weston, thankfully. And what started off as a bumpy dance got smoother. Even more so when I found myself searching the crowd. Finding Juice in the back and locking eyes with him. That seemed to cut out a lot of my nervousness.

My hands drifted down my body, and I caught myself pretending they weren’t my hands but Juice’s. Just the thought of him feeling me up, his hands pinning my hands over my head. Pressing into me. The way he’d feel strained against those baggy jeans when he bucked against me in the heat of the moment. I used my dirty mind to fuel the dance. Letting my hands wander down to the waistband of my leather pants, working them down.

The crowd was really getting vocal now. They usually do when the clothing starts to actually come off. My stomach fluttered nervously when I locked eyes with Juice in the back of the club and I actually saw the way what I was doing on stage was affecting him.

He sat up a little straighter in his seat. Spread his legs a little. Squirming around. He nursed a glass of whiskey and his eyes wandered up and down my body slowly. When I hit the floor and started to writhe around, my back arching and my ass up in the air, he bit his lip. Watching intently. Rubbing his chin in thought.

Out towards the front of the club, right in front of me, I heard AJ swearing. Laughing out loud. I wanted to strangle the asshole, especially when he really got started with all his stupid filthy commentary as if he were mocking me, as if he were somehow better than this place even though he was willingly sitting here, of his own volition… But I went back to blocking him out. Focusing all my attention on Juice all over again instead.

Imagining what I’d do if I truly had half the nerve. What I’d let him do to me if I weren’t so damn afraid of falling in love with a Samcro man.

Because if I were going to love one, I’d choose him. Hands down. If I were ever to settle, I’d want to settle with Juice Ortiz.

My song was nearing an end. My dance was slowing down. I made my way up the pole again, grinding it as I inched up it. Slowly. Seductively as I could... Eyes locked on Juice the entire time as I flipped myself upside down and started to wind around the pole, spinning slowly with my arm outstretched as the other arm gripped the pole to hold myself. And just before the official end of my song, I dropped to the ground, crawling away from the pole. Towards the front of the stage, bolder. Getting closer in the hopes I could at least get a little better look at Juice’s face because I was dying to see the expression on it right now.

I smirked in his direction and gave a teasing wink as I pulled myself off the floor and slunk towards the red velvet curtain separating the back of the club from the front.

“Stormy Knight, ladies and gentlemen. If anyone wants the VIP experience, find Vinnie.” the announcer called out over the rowdy crowd. I was just about to reach for the doorknob on the door that lead into the dressing room when a throat cleared behind me.

“Not bad, kid. If you can bring that every single Tuesday and Thursday, gigs yours.” the club owner was standing there, smirking. He almost looked like he felt bad for doubting me in the first place. He added casually, “Had three guys come to me about VIP dances. I usually leave all that to my girls to work out. That’s extra dough in your pocket, makes no difference to me. I know half of ya have extra mouths to feed.”

I eyed him, my mouth falling open.

“Three guys? Like.. altogether?”

“No, no.. Two were together. One was by himself. Belonged to one of the MCs. Just do me a favor and at least attempt to obey club rules, kid. Don’t go gettin knocked up on the clock.” the man laughed and I took a deep breath.

At best, I figured that the biker in question was probably one of the Mayans I’d seen sitting towards the middle of the club.

I was pretty damn sure I knew exactly who the two men were and after mulling it over because it seemed as if my new boss was awaiting a decision from me, I decided I wanted no part of the risk of having to give AJ Weston and his slimy friend a private show.

“I’ll take the biker tonight, man. I’m not feelin up to a three way.”

The owner nodded and mused thoughtfully, “Good idea, kid.. That one guy out of the two of ‘em looked like his elevator didn’t go all the way to the top floor. I’ll go get your biker and bring him back. You got room 3. That was Gina’s old room.” before walking away, disappearing out into the front of the club again.

“Please god… at least let it be the J.D Pardo look alike if it’s one of the Mayans.” I muttered to myself, not daring to get my hopes up that it’d be Juice.

A throat cleared from behind me. I nearly shit myself when I heard Tig Trager mumble with a laugh, “Okay Ortiz. Go get your girl.” before walking away. I did not dare turn around until I knew Tig was long gone.

“Stormy, huh? That’s one hell of a name, baby girl.” he mused aloud.

I turned around slowly. Found myself body to body with him. He was staring down at me intently, licking his lips. Chuckling as he shook his head and leaned in a little closer to whisper, “Does daddy know you dance, Hazelynn? Because if he’d been here… Seen all that…” he fanned himself and gave me a teasing smirk.

My mouth dropped open.

“How? How’d you know?” I stammered out.

“I saw your car parked outside… Life pro tip, princess.. If you wanna keep this a secret, I’d suggest parking around back. Or catching a ride. Because your car? Kind of hard to forget.” Juice’s hand settled on my hip and he pulled me just a little closer. His eyes dipped down, settling on my lips, a quiet groan coming when his intent stare made me lick my lips and fidget a little.. Melting against him a little before I could stop myself from doing it. Giving a sheepish laugh as I glanced up at him.

“Your secret’s safe with me. Relax.” he chuckled. He must have felt how tense my body was as I pressed against him. I let out a shaky breath. Parts of me wanted to ask the logical question, if he came here a lot, but also, at the same time parts of me definitely didn’t want to know. Those parts of me knew that if I did ask and he said he did, I’d get just a little jealous. Because it already happened whenever I’d see him at the bar and he’d have Croweaters flocking to him.

“Guess I owe you a VIP.” I teased gently, nodding towards the door with the gold star and the black number 3 painted on it. I reached down, grabbing hold of his hand, starting to lead him in the direction of the room.

“If you don’t wanna do this…” Juice frowned slightly and acted like he was going to walk away, but I stopped him. Made him look at me.

“It’s fine. It’s part of the job.” I gave him a reassuring smile as I opened the door to the room, stepping inside. Letting him step inside.

He closed the door behind him and we found ourselves body to body all over again. He muttered quietly, “Confession… I saw that Weston asshole and his idiot friend talking to the owner about a VIP dance with you so I went over and offered more money.”

Between the goofy little shit eating grin he gave me as he said it and the fact that he did that because he knows the guy creeps me right the fuck out, I was blown away. Before I could stop myself, I rose to tiptoe, gently pressing my lips against the corner of his mouth. “You’re an actual angel come to Earth, sir. You have definitely earned that dance.” I muttered softly as I pulled back to look up at him.

He bit his lip and my eyes followed the movement helplessly.

If I thought I was making myself wet on stage with my own dirty imagination, it was nothing compared to how wet I got when I locked eyes with him and realized that he was fully aware that I’d been staring at his mouth like a proper idiot.

I stepped close to him again and placed my palm on the front of his cutte, gently shoving him so that he settled in the chair right behind him.

Right away, his hands went to my hips. I lowered my hands, pushing his hands back down as I shook my head. “No touching. Club rules, Juice.”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, sorry.” he gave an awkward laugh and I giggled softly. Sinking down into his lap slowly.

Maybe I was slightly exaggerating out in the hallway when I told him I could do this and made it seem like it wasn’t a big deal. The second I settled in his lap and started to grind against it, I could feel myself dripping just a little more. I rose up slightly and he sucked in a breath. His knuckles went white with the way he was gripping the arms of the chair. His eyes were absolutely glued to me and I smirked. Teasing a little. Acting as if I’d take off the cropped leather jacket over my bra only to pull it back up.

The third time I did this, he growled quietly. Bucked himself against me. When I whimpered and grinded myself down harder against his lap, he muttered in a heated whisper, “You feel what you’re doing to me right now, baby girl?”

Oh. I felt it alright. The way he strained at his jeans, cock still twitching and growing harder and harder. The little friction I was allowing myself wasn’t enough. My cunt was throbbing and I was getting so wet that I was pretty sure when I finished giving him his lapdance the poor guy was going to have a wet spot on his jeans.

“Mhm.” I answered in a daze, leaning in so that my lips brushed against the shell of his ear and my tits rubbed right against him. He whimpered and bucked into me all over again and when I slipped out of his lap, he frowned. I hit my knees, parting his legs. Staring up at him from where I kneeled on the floor and he shifted in his seat, gripping the arms of the chair tighter when I started to rise up. Swaying my hips side to side. Leaning in. Rubbing against him as much as I could get away with. Oh, I was definitely using this little VIP dance he paid for as an excuse to do as much touching and teasing as I thought I could get away with.

All those urges to touch him I normally kept at bay were finally being allowed free reign and it felt so good.

I settled on his lap again. He let out a long and shaky breath and we locked eyes. He was staring at me like he wanted to ask me something or he wanted to say something but he wasn’t sure how.

“What’s up?” I asked quietly.

“Nothin, it’s nothin.” he said it quickly. Too quick. I gripped his cutte and pulled him in closer. My mouth inching dangerously close to his as I muttered against it, “Whatever you want to say, say it. Trust me. I can handle it.”

“Okay, you asked for it.” he muttered. After a second or two of staring at his lap, he looked up at me again and asked quietly, “Did you wanna dance for me?”

“I got the owner to come get you, didn’t I?” my heart was beating faster. I thought it’d jump right out of my chest. I did my best to play as cool and casual as I could but every single part of me wanted to tell him that dancing was not all I wanted to do for him.

“I know that… what I mean is.. Forget it.” he went quiet. Looked down again and I gripped his jaw, making him look up at my face. “Eyes up here, Ortiz.” I teased gently, my smile falling away when I saw the serious and somber look in his eyes. I scooted away a little, an attempt to give him some space. Settling myself over his thigh instead of fully positioned on his lap as I had been.

“Talk to me.” the words left my mouth in a whimper as I pressed myself right against his thigh, rocking my throbbing sex back and forth over it. Getting wetter and wetter with each second that passed. And the ache. Oh god, the ache. I was on the brink of frustrated tears. And I couldn’t break down, I couldn’t act anything less than totally professional, because this was my night job and I was on the clock but God.. did I ever want to.

He spread his legs wider and took a deep breath. Trying not to touch me, but I could tell with the way he kept raising his hands only to put them back down on the arm rests of the velvet covered chair he sat in that he wanted nothing more than to do that very thing.

And the thought of those hands on me had me flooded in a split second. If there was any doubt before that I’d leave a wet spot behind on his jeans at the end of this dance, there wasn’t going to be by the time it was over.

Anticipation and desire had my stomach coiled tightly. I wanted, more than anything, to be able to pick up with this back home… Behind closed doors. Just him and I.

But I knew that tonight was most likely just going to be an awkward little secret. Kept between two friends. And it bothered me, because I wanted so much more than that but I was afraid to cross lines and let myself have that… I doubted it was even an option anyway because I just didn’t think Juice even saw me like that.

Sure, we flirted now and then, but nothing ever came of it.

God, did I want it to.

This heavy tension seemed to settle in all around us and I picked up on it. Juice groaned quietly, and after he nearly broke the no touch rule again and very nearly reached out to grab hold of my ass and rock me against his thigh faster, I leaned in.. Pressed against him as I continued to grind against his leg and muttered against his ear, “Most guys put their arms behind their head… Til they’re used to not being allowed to touch.. They get verbal too…” my words hitching in my throat, rushing out over each other breathlessly.

He raised his hands, locking them behind his head. Sprawling back against the chair. It seemed to help ease the tension built in his body too, because I felt him sort of melting into the chair a little and I smiled.

“C’mon.. Tell me what you want me to do.” I coaxed, fixing my eyes on him and biting my lip when I immediately found myself getting sucked far too deep into his gaze.

“Touch yourself.” he muttered. Raising up a little. Leaning forward. “Touch yourself for me, baby girl… Like you were when you were dancin out front.”

I let my hands wander.

They were shaking slightly and I just hoped to God that it wasn’t noticed.

Juice took a few shaky breaths and bucked a little in the seat. “Come closer.. Get on my lap.”

I moved so that I was straddling his lap and the way his cock strained against his jeans and I tried to stop myself, but as I started to rock myself back and forth over it, I whimpered quietly. My breath caught in my throat a time or two and my heart was beating so fast I thought it was going to beat out of my chest.

“I normally don’t buy dances if I come here.” he muttered quietly, shattering through my own current internal struggle.

Knowing this relaxed me a little. It was obvious he didn’t just going off the way he acted, but.. I still wondered. Some guys like to pretend it’s their first lap dance because it gets them going.

I’m not here to judge anyone.

I mean.. I have a good paying day job as a legal assistant and here I am.. Dancing two nights a week whenever I can find a club to take me just so I have some form of release.. Just so I can feel intimacy that for whatever reason, I tend to deny myself in reality.

I almost asked him why, but I remembered what he told me out in the hallway about outbidding AJ because he knew the guy scared me. And I stopped myself, even though parts of me hoped there was more to it than that.

My hands moved over my chest and I rocked myself over him faster. My breath catching in my throat as I felt myself rushing straight into an orgasm I’d been trying like hell to hold back the whole time we’d been in the VIP room.

I could feel my body burning up under his gaze and he leaned in again. Muttered breathlessly against my ear, “If you’re nervous..”

“It’s fine.” I pretended to brush it off. I acted as chill about doing this for him as I possibly could.

“Turn away.. I wanna watch you movin from behind, baby girl.” he muttered. The request caught me by surprise a little, but I kind of realized that he was doing it more for me than for himself.

I did what he asked, turning in his lap so that I faced away. My eyes caught his in the reflection of the mirrored wall in front of us. As I started to rock my ass over his bulge, he growled quietly. Bucking himself up into me. Biting his lip as he did it three more times. Muttered in a lust filled daze “Fuck yeah, baby girl.. Work that ass.”

Just the way he said it had me dripping all over again.

“Faster.” he panted, bucking himself up into me all over again. Harder.

I tried not to, but I found myself imagining that he was taking me from behind. A fist full of my hair and my tits pressed right against the mirrored wall in front of us. And I rocked myself back and forth over his cock, pressing down even harder. Moving even faster. Almost close to a blinding orgasm.

“Fuck.” I swore quietly.

Juice sat up in the chair. Pressing his chest into my back. Muttering against my ear, “ Did you wanna dance for me like this?”

“Juice, I told you already.” my head fell back and my eyes fluttered open and shut. I squeezed my tits and rolled my hips faster. My breath came in short pants because I was so close to an orgasm that I was throbbing. He was leaning in again to whisper. “What I mean is if this wasn’t your job.. And it was just me and you… Would you wanna..” he rocked himself against me all over again. Harder. With more urgency as he swore under his breath and muttered that if I kept it up, he was going to come all over himself.

“ Turn around facin me.” he panted, his lips brushing against my ear and sending a shiver rushing through me. I turned back around in his lap to face him. Raising up a little. Teasing him by putting my tits at level with his mouth. Squeezing them together before lowering my hand. Toying with the waistband of my leather pants. Teasing him like I’d take them off.

“ Tease.” he pouted up at me.

“ That’s kind of what you’re paying me for right now, Juice.” I gave a soft laugh as I tucked a finger beneath his chin. Pulling his mouth dangerously close to mine. He licked his lips in anticipation and when he did, his tongue brushed right against my mouth. I whimpered helplessly.

And I just barely kept myself from exploding.

“You’re tensin up on me, Haze… Somethin wrong?” Juice asked quietly.

Looking at me as if he were bracing himself for something bad to be said.

By this point, I was so caught up in the moment, in the way it felt to grind myself against his cock and get out all these long denied urges to touch him to my hearts content.. It slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it.

“Honestly? I’m a breath away from coming and this never.. Ever… happens to me when I’m givin a private dance.” my words came in a breathless rush and as soon as I realized what I’d just said, I lost my groove for a second or two. Slowing down. Trying to pull myself together.

Hoping to God that I didn’t just make things awkward for him and I in the future because I’d rather have him as a friend than not have him at all.

His mouth opened and closed and his hands gripped the arm rests again. Tighter.

“Do you know how hard it is for me? Feelin you dancin on my cock like this? Knowin I.. Knowin that this is probably as close as I’m ever gonna get? Fuck… If I were ever lucky enough to have you all to myself, baby girl...”

His words caught me by surprise. My heart fluttered a little and I swallowed hard. Going still in his lap just to stare at him.

The lights getting brighter and the music in the room going quiet had both of us jumping apart. I realized that probably meant my time in the room was done and before I could give myself a chance to back out, I slipped off his lap and held out my hand to him.

“ C’mon.”

He eyed my hand and took hold of it, standing. I practically drug him out of the room and then down the hall. Out the door and into the back lot behind the club. Once the door was shut behind us, I started to pace in front of him. Just trying to put it all together.

Torn between continuing to fight what I felt for him and caving in.

When he stepped in front of me and placed his hands on my upper arms, staring down into my eyes intently, something in me snapped and before I could stop myself, I had his back pressed against the door of the building. My hands caught his, holding them over his head as I rose up slightly and crashed my mouth against his mouth.

Devouring. Hungry.

At first, he didn’t really react. But when the shock cleared and he realized what I was doing, he came alive. I melted against him and he growled into my mouth, deepening the kiss. Teeth latching onto my bottom lip and tugging until I felt it starting to bruise. I let his hands go and they were all over me. Settling on my ass. Rocking me up against him and making me whimper and dig my fingers into his shoulders. I couldn’t melt into him any more if I tried. I was so exhausted from trying to hold back in more ways than one at this point that my filter was totally shot. I rocked myself against him clumsily, a begging and needy whine filling the space between our mouths as the kiss broke when I just couldn’t hold it back.

“Do you know why I almost got off giving you a lap dance? Do you know what you do to me, Juice? I.. I tried so hard not to fall for you and yet.. Here I am.”

He blinked in shock. For a few seconds we stared at each other, panting for our next breath. Neither of us saying a word.

Then he bent and scooped me up. Started to carry me towards the end of the alley where he’d parked his Dyna Glide.

I didn’t do or say anything to try to stop him. I didn’t want to.

I’m so tired of keeping him at arms length. I’m tired of fighting the way I feel.

He sat me on the back of his bike and I grabbed hold of the front of his vest, pulling him down. Pulling his mouth down against mine all over again because I just.. I was needy. I craved him on this level I couldn’t even begin to get my head around.

His bike came to a stop in front of his apartment building and he got off. Scooping me up all over again. Stopping just outside the doors leading into the building to grope and kiss me. Letting his lips stray down the side of my neck. Sucking a mark deep into my skin. I clung to him and begged breathlessly, “Juice, please..”

Neither of us was really stopping to think. I didn’t want to.

I wanted him.

More importantly, I wanted to be with him. And tonight just proved to me that I couldn’t fight it anymore.

The whole time he was trying to unlock his apartment door, he kept fumbling with the keys. Rutting right against me. Stopping to kiss or touch me. When he finally got it unlocked, he stepped through the door and stepped over to the couch. Tossing me down onto it gently. Following close behind. Pressing himself down into me and snapping his hips against mine, making me whimper. My whimper echoing off the walls of the quiet room. I reached down between us, tugging at the hem of his white t shirt and he rose up, pulling off his vest and tossing it at a chair nearby. Then pulling his shirt off and tossing it too. It settled on the floor in front of the chair. Then he was pulling me up. Tearing my bra away and tossing it out into the room. My hands lowered, tugging at the waistband of his jeans and he bit his lip. Gazing at me for a second or two with this look of lust and adoration in his eyes. Savoring the moment and what was about to happen.

Because it’s been building for a while, apparently. I just focused so damn hard on keeping myself from caving in and letting myself have what I wanted, with him, that somehow, I missed all the signs.

“Baby, c’mon.” I begged.

The term of endearment slipped out.

He gave me that little smirk. Rubbed his chin in thought as he let his eyes wander.

He worked his way down my body, using his body to part my legs. He worked my leather pants down my legs and I kicked them free at my ankles.

His fingers caught in the thin strap of my panties and they came away with a quiet tear. I tried to get him out of his pants again and he lowered my hands. Slipping off the sofa. I watched intently as he teased me, pouting about it. Begging.

I needed him buried inside me. Fucking me. Slow. Deep. All night long.

His pants fell to his ankles and he kicked off his boots and then kicked his pants free from his legs. When he dropped his boxers, I swallowed hard as my eyes settled on the way his cock stood at attention once it was free from fabric. He was pressing himself down into me all over again.

His mouth roaming over my tits. Tongue teasing my nipples as my back arched away from the sofa and I rocked myself against him. His free hand settled between us, circling his thick cock. Teasing it between my folds and making me shiver and cling to him. Try to rock myself against him urgently.

And then he buried his cock inside me. Shallow at first. Going still to let me adjust to him. I felt like I was being split in two and the feeling had me whining. Nipping at his chest, at any patch of skin I could get my mouth on just so I could muffle the way I wanted to scream his name at the top of my lungs.

I rocked into him clumsily and he growled quietly. His hands going down to my hips. Holding them still as he started to pound me harder. Deeper. So deep he couldn’t go any deeper. When he bottomed out, I dragged my nails down his back.

“Not yet, baby girl. C’mon, hold out just a little longer for me.” Juice coaxed breathlessly as his hips crashed against me with a bruising pace. I begged for release, on the verge of tears. The more I begged, the more he’d slow down. Stop to kiss me or leave marks on me. Torture.

Slow, steady and deep torture.

“You gonna moan my name when you cum?” he questioned, slamming his cock deep into my womb. Going still and capturing my mouth in a deep and passionate kiss. “ God. You’re so.” he panted, snapping his hips against mine, cock pistoning in and out of me with steady deep thrusts, “So fuckin wet I can barely stay in. Fuck. Shit. Shiiiit, baby girl. I wanna cum so bad.”

“Juice! Ah, -ah fuck. Right there.” my back arched away from the couch and my orgasm ripped through me, leaving me weak and dazed, clinging to him as I tried desperately to keep up with his pace, spent. Dripping. My walls vising his cock and clenched around it. Tears flooding my eyes because holy fuck, all I’ve wanted for the entire time was to finally be allowed to let go.

Juice stared down at me from above, a soft gaze. He caught a tear as it made a black trail down my cheek. Chuckling quietly. Going still to pepper kisses soft against my mouth and then trail them down the front of my throat. When he started to move again, he muttered against my lips softly, “It’s okay, baby girl. I got you. I’m right here.” as he pistoned in and out, the wet sloshing sounds accompanying each thrust he made seeming to make him move just a little faster. His hands were all over me and all I could really do was lie there, pinned beneath him. Whimpering his name as I tried to come down from the high. Stare up at him softly as my mind spun, replaying every single thing that led us here, to this exact moment.

“Oh fuck. Fuck baby girl. You want it?” his hips stammered, smashing against mine in a bruising pace and his words were swallowed by another hungry kiss and I nodded. Just when I thought he couldn’t get any deeper, he did. Striking against my throbbing g-spot a time or two and growling, biting. Locking his lips against my neck and sucking yet another big,deep mark into soft flesh. The warmth of his release flooded me, making me whimper. Overfilling me, because I could feel the excess slowly leak down. Puddle beneath me on the sofa.. I bucked my hips against him greedily trying to take it all because I wanted it. I needed it. I craved him so badly I couldn’t have put it to words if I tried. He leaned into me heavily, panting for his next breath. Spent. A fine sheen of sweat gathered on our bodies. I grabbed hold of his face and pulled his mouth against mine. Our foreheads pressed together and he muttered quietly, “Mine?”

“Yours.” it shocked me when the word bubbled out. It shocked me because a, I was saying it and b, I meant it. With everything in me. As soon as I said it, he gave me a soft and lazy grin. Pressing his lips to my forehead. He collapsed onto the couch settling behind me. Pulling me on top of him.

Quiet little soft kisses. Caressing my face as he stared up at me and caught sight of one of the bigger marks he left on my throat, grimacing as he chuckled about it quietly.

“Fuck me. Baby, that was amazing...” I groaned out in a daze, making him laugh and gaze up at me. “Give me an hour, babe.” he teased…

“Careful. I might take you up on that.” I teased back, melting against his body. Letting his arms wrap around me and hold me tight.

[abused-sides]

Way to Please

Read part one first, read on Ao3 

Trigger warnings: Emotional abuse, gaslighting, being called selfish, ableism, familial abuse, panic attacks, touch-starved Logan, food mention 

A/N: This is a commission! Another thanks to @darkle-elkrad​!! :D More info at the end 

Disclaimer: J. is NOT Janus, he’s an unsympathetic OC.

Read on Ao3

Logan pushed the knob on his fidget cube in slow circles. It was a simple toy, all black, and usually hidden in his pocket. He currently had it pressed between his thigh and the car door. His stomach was knotted and he stared out the window almost obsessively, counting every mile they got closer to his new school. 

“You messing with that toy again?” 

Logan looked at J. He shoved it in his pocket. “Sorry.” 

“‘S fine. People are gonna make fun of you for being a baby, though.” 

Logan’s face heated up. “I told you I won’t use it in front of other people.” 

They pulled into the college’s parking lot. Logan’s small life was packed up neatly in the backseat. J. turned the car off and sighed. 

“You sure you don’t need help moving in?” J. gave him a look. “You know how you can get.” 

Logan nodded once. “I know. But I can control that. I can move in myself, don’t worry.” 

hesitated, then sighed again. “Alright. Get out, then. Call me tonight.” 

“Yeah. Love you.” 

“Mhm.” 

Logan stacked up his three boxes and started towards his dorm. Luckily, J. had taken a few weeks off his own education and brought Logan down for a tour last week, so he knew exactly where he was going. He managed all the way to his room and fumbled for the key card in his wallet. 

He nearly dropped his boxes, and his heart leapt into his throat. He caught them just fine, but the panic remained, fizzling slowly like water down a stopped drain. His fingers itched for his cube. He ignored it, and got the door open just before the anxiety peaked. 

One half of the room was already claimed, half unpacked suitcases sprawled over the bed and wardrobe, so Logan dumped his stuff on the second bed. He immediately righted the boxes and tossed some fallen items back inside. He glanced over his shoulder. 

He was alone. 

He shoved his hand in his pocket and found the side with the buttons, mashing them down before flipping it to switch. He click-click-clacked it a few times as the tension slipped from his chest. 

He took a second to look around the room. His roommate’s life was coated in black and purple. Band tees stuck out of the half clothes drawer, notebook upon notebook littering his bed. He had a purple and black plaid quilt tossed over a gray weighted blanket. An expensive laptop sat freely on the desk. 

“...oh, come on, you are such an asshole.” The door opened and closed, and a boy with purple hair came inside, holding a phone to his ear with his arms full of sodas and candy. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Fuck you, too. Sure. Later. Love you.” 

Logan blinked. 

The boy dumped his food on his bed and shoved his phone in his pocket. He raised an eyebrow. “Uh, hi.” 

Logan nodded. “Was that a… girlfriend?” 

“Nah, my brother.” He turned back to line his drinks on the shared desk. “I’m Virgil.” 

“Logan.” He hesitated, then turned to his own bed, pulling out neatly rolled up clothes. 

“I hope you don’t mind that I already picked my side.” Virgil grabbed another armful of clothes and went over to the wardrobe, punching down the fabric until he could layer more inside. 

Logan couldn’t help but say, “You could fit more if you folded them.” 

Virgil snorted. “There’s three other drawers. I’ll be fine.” 

“Right.” His face flushed. “Sorry.” 

Logan hung his clothes in the closet. They unpacked silently. Logan occasionally tapped his pocket, just to make sure his cube was still there. 

Virgil sat at the edge of his bed and held out his hand. “Let me see your class schedule?” 

Logan startled, then fumbled for his backpack. “Right— Uh, sorry, one second.” 

He found it while Virgil watched with raised eyebrows. He handed it over. Virgil hummed, gray eyes trailing over the paper. He really was striking. He was loud in a way Logan never wanted to be, but Virgil didn’t seem upset by it. It was all clearly a choice, from the way he dressed to how he styled his hair. He lounged on his bed, taking up all the space without taking his combat boots off first, chewing on his nails— likely while the nail polish was chipped. 

Nail polish. His middle fingers were painted black, the rest a strong purple. How did he have the confidence to wear nail polish? If Logan tried that, J. would make fun of him until he cried. 

“We have some Gen-Eds together,” Virgil mused. “And an art class. How long have you been drawing?” 

Logan swallowed and sat on his bed. It was clear Virgil wasn’t handing the schedule back any time soon. “Not long. I just picked it up last year, actually. It sounded, I don’t know, relaxing.” 

Virgil grinned and glanced at him. “It’s frustrating, isn’t it?” 

“It’s… hard. Harder than I expected.” 

“Can I see?” 

Logan hesitated. He reached for the box with his sketchbook, but Virgil held his hand up. 

“It’s okay. No need to look so panicked.” He chuckled. “I’ll just look later. I was going to go look around campus, make sure I know where all my classes are. Wanna come with? We can check the Gen-Eds.” 

Logan really didn’t want to— he knew where his classes were, and he planned on finding good spots for his stuff —but he nodded and stood. He glanced at Virgil’s bed, where he laid on top of all of his stuff. A few things crumpled and crunched as he rolled onto his feet. 

“Cool.” He grabbed a Monster off the desk and popped it open. “Let’s go.” 

Virgil wasn’t actually as loud as he looked. He had the confidence down, and he teased Logan quite a bit, but he was very… calm. Logan would never admit it out loud, but he was jealous. He could never be that sure of himself. 

After finding their Gen-Eds, they agreed to stick together to find their other classes as well. Logan admitted to having already visited his— Virgil laughed —so they set off to find Virgil’s. 

Once they got to the last class on the list, Virgil stopped. “Shit,” he whispered. “Oh, shit.” 

Logan frowned. “What is it?” 

The wind blew through Virgil’s bangs, revealing wide, anxiety-filled eyes. The courtyard was mostly empty, the occasional student passing by a couple dozen feet away. 

“They put me in the wrong class.” Virgil pushed his hair back and drew in a shaky breath. “We agreed I’d be in the morning class, I— I can’t make this one, I don’t know— fuck.” 

“Hey.” Logan took a small step closer. “Hey, it’s okay. We can just go talk to someone, right?” 

Virgil shook his head quickly. His breathing was speeding up. “No, are you kidding? They’re probably so busy, this is stupid. I just— fuck, I’ll have to make it work.” 

“Virgil, no.” Logan laughed weakly. “No, come on, we can fix this. Breathe, right?” 

“‘Breathe—’ Right, fuck, I’m not… I’m not breathing.” 

Logan held his hands out, and Virgil scrambled to take them. Logan held them tight. “Uh, just follow my breathing.” 

Logan helped him right himself, a few tears slipping out from Virgil’s eyes, but he mostly got himself back together pretty fast. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Virgil gave Logan their schedules and pushed his sweaty palms down his pants. He wiped his face. “Sorry, that was… stupid.” He fiddled with the zipper on his hoodie. 

“No, it wasn’t. I… uh, here.” Logan hesitated, then found his fidget cube and pressed it into Virgil’s hand. 

Virgil looked at it in surprise. His fingers naturally found the side with the buttons, click-click-clicking. “Oh. Thanks. I had one of these last year but I lost it.” 

Logan blinked. “Really?” 

“Yeah. I’ll give it back though, don’t worry.” 

“Let’s go talk to the registrar. We can tell them your schedule is conflicting.” 

Virgil stared at the cube. He flicked the dial a few times, listening to the light crank as it snapped back. “Are you sure?” He mumbled. 

Logan forced a smile against his nerves. “Of course. Better to do it now then wait until it’s worse.” 

“That’s true. Okay.” He laughed weakly and straightened his shirt out. “Right, you’re right. Sorry about this.” 

“It’s fine,” Logan promised. 

Logan walked with him down to the registrar's office and it ended up being an easy fix. Virgil walked out while rolling his eyes. 

“I can’t believe that gave me a panic attack. Shit, I’ve had panic attacks over some dumb things, but… wow.” 

Logan laughed. “It’s a… big day. Don’t worry about it. I, uh… I had a couple today, too.” 

“Well, panic attacks make me hungry. Do you want to go grab something to eat?” 

Logan nodded. “Sure.” 

They stopped outside their dorm building. Virgil texted for a moment, then said, “I have a car we can borrow. Come on.” 

They found a silver truck in the Junior’s parking lot. Virgil pulled the keys out of his pocket. “It’s my brother’s,” he said. “I’ve got a spare key.” 

“Your brother sounds cool.” Logan climbed into the passenger side. 

It was a very tall truck. His face heated up as he struggled a little to get inside. 

“He’s an asshole,” Virgil laughed. “What do you want to eat?” 

“Uh—” Logan’s mind blanked. “Um… I don’t— I don’t know, what do you want?” 

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “Um… Okay, well, I know a Chinese place close by that’s good. We can grab one to bring back?” 

Logan nodded and relaxed into his seat. “Yeah. That’s good.” 

Virgil pulled out of the parking lot. They took their food to go, Logan managing to find a kosher option fairly easily, and ate while flipping through Netflix. They found a show they’d both been wanting to watch and got stuck on it easily. They ended up watching the entire first season, only stopping to break open Virgil’s collection of snacks.  

Logan went to bed that night, later than he ever had, feeling better than he ever had. 

xxx 

“Hey, I’m going to see my brother. Want to come?” 

Logan looked up from his homework in surprise. “Um… sure?” 

Virgil had been acting weird lately. He invited him to go somewhere or do something every day. If Logan showed the slightest bit of hesitation, he backed off, but there he was again the next day. If Logan did hesitate, Virgil wouldn’t let him go back on it. Logan didn’t understand it. 

He’d also started acting more nervous around Logan. Less sure of himself. Logan worried he did something. But if he did, there’s no way Virgil would want him to meet his brother, would he? 

He settled his homework neatly back inside his binder and checked a few things off his planner before grabbing his phone and wallet. He followed Virgil outside, where the streetlights glowed warmly against the dark sky, and across the courtyard. The Junior dorm buildings looked identical to the Freshmen’s, only a bit bigger. Inside, their lobby was much more taken care of, and looked more like a gameroom than anything. Groups of students sat with decks of cards, at vending machines, at pool tables. Instead of heading up to the dorms, Virgil led Logan to a small group of kids settled in bean bag chairs. 

A boy with striking similarities to Virgil— all angles and bones, the same gray eyes —sat with another boy, covered in freckles, settled in his lap. 

“Hey, Jan. Hey, Patton.” Virgil placed a light hand on Logan’s shoulder. The touch burned through his shirt, and Logan nearly sucked in a breath. “This is Logan, he’s my roommate.” 

“Wow, you’re getting along with your roommate?” Janus asked in surprise. “I guess I owe Patton ten bucks.” 

“You do not!” Patton rolled his eyes with a smile. “We did not make a bet, Virgil. He’s doing his thing.” 

“I know,” Virgil laughed. 

He pulled the last free bean bag chair towards them and yanked Logan down with him. Their sides pressed together, the bag molding them against each other, Logan couldn’t breathe. He managed to settle himself on the edge of the chair. His side was cold as ice, his heart racing. Virgil gave him a weird look before shoving it off and looking back to Janus. 

Logan thought briefly when the last time he had a hug was. Surely not that long ago, right? Parents hugged their children all the time. But he couldn’t quite recall. If he’d been hugged recently, would he still have the strong urge to reach out and feel Virgil’s hair? To take his hand and trace Virgil’s fingers? To feel Virgil’s palm against his face? 

Logan’s face flushed. Stop acting creepy. 

“What are we playing?” Virgil asked. 

Virgil helped him through the card game. It became obvious towards the third round that Janus was cheating, mostly because Patton scolded him loud enough for everyone to hear. 

“Wait, he’s been cheating?” Virgil threw his cards down dramatically. “You bitch!” 

Janus laughed as Virgil kicked the cards at him. Logan tensed. 

“Stop fighting!” Patton sighed, but he was smiling. Why was he smiling? He batted his eyelashes at Janus. “Baby, buy me a snack?” 

Janus picked Patton up, stood, then tossed Patton into the bean bag chair. He squealed. 

“Don’t use that voice on me.” Janus leaned down and kissed him softly. “Totally unfair.” 

“Oh, is it?” 

They mumbled together for a moment between kisses. Logan was certain his face had never been so red. Virgil picked up a card and flung it at them. 

“Gross! I don’t want to see my brother make out with anyone!” 

Janus snorted as he pulled away and found his wallet. “That’s just because you’ve never made out with anyone.” 

Virgil’s ears turned red. “That’s not true! Gah!” 

Janus left to the vending machine, and Patton relaxed into the chair with a wide grin. “So Logan, what are you studying?” 

“Physics,” he mumbled. “Are you two okay?” 

Virgil looked at him in surprise. “Me and Janus?” 

Logan nodded. 

“Uh, yeah? Why?” 

“You guys were fighting?” 

Patton giggled while Virgil raised an eyebrow. “We weren’t fighting, we were joking. You don’t have brothers?” 

“No, I have one. He’s two years older than me.” 

“Alright… what’s his name? Maybe Janus knows him.” 

“He doesn’t go to this school.” Logan found his fidget cube in his pocket and rolled his thumb around the metal ball. “He’s at a college in our hometown.” 

“You moved away for college?” Patton asked in surprise. 

“What’s going on?” Janus dropped into Patton’s lap and pressed several packets of gummies into his palm with a kiss to his cheek. 

“Logan went to college out of state to get away from his brother,” Virgil said. 

Logan’s eyes widened. “That’s not true!” 

Virgil bumped their shoulders together. 

“If Virgil tried going to college out of state without a good reason, I’d kill him.” Janus pulled Patton closer. “Seriously. I’d be worried out of my mind.” 

“You don’t…” Logan hated to confirm Virgil’s suspicion, but he couldn’t stop himself from asking, “you don’t need, like, a break?” 

Everyone stared at him. 

“No,” Janus said flatly. “No, I actually love my brother.” 

“Gross,” Virgil mumbled, but his ears were red again. 

“I love my brother,” Logan insisted. 

“Oh, we don’t doubt that.” 

“I just— I don’t know. You guys were fighting yesterday morning, too.” 

Virgil stared at him in confusion, until it clicked. He laughed. “You mean when I was on the phone? Lo, he called me a coffee gremlin so I told him to fuck off. It wasn’t a fight. We were just messing with each other.” 

Heat steadily climbed up Logan’s neck. He closed his hand around his cube until it hurt. He wanted to curl in on himself, escape the conversation, and never see any of them again. 

“What the hell does your brother call you?” Janus asked. 

“It’s not a big deal,” Logan said weakly. “We’re just— we’re not as close as you, I guess.” 

“Logan, it’s okay,” Patton said softly, face pinched with worry. “You can talk about it. No one’s here to judge you, we’re not trying to force you to be grateful for your family or anything.” 

Janus squeezed Patton’s shoulder. “Yeah, we know about shitty families, if that’s what this is.”

“And that’s the vibe I’m getting,” Virgil added. “The shit Janus calls me doesn’t bother me. I tell him if he says something fucked up. What does your brother do?” 

“I— I don’t know, I don’t know.” Logan pushed his sweaty palms against his jeans. “He just… gets mad sometimes. You know?”

“No,” Virgil said flatly. “What does he do when he’s mad?” 

“He just… gets mad.” Logan’s voice trembled. He didn’t know how to get out of this. He made a big deal out of it, something that so clearly wasn’t a big deal, and now he was just stuck. “I guess he, I don’t know, he calls me selfish sometimes.” 

“Like when?” Patton asked. He’d leaned forward, hands clasped between his knees, brows knitted. 

Logan stuttered through a few stories off the top of his head. He’d tried to tell them in a casual way, insist that it wasn’t a big deal and he was fine, but everyone was so… concerned. Virgil’s fists clenched around his hoodie, Janus’ eyes narrowed. Logan ducked his head. He was shaking. 

He scrambled to his feet. “I’m sorry, I think I— I think I need to go.” 

“Logan,” Virgil sighed. “We can stop talking about it, but come on. You can’t like the way he treats you.” 

“Does it matter?” 

Everyone paused. Logan pressed a hand to his forehead. 

“No,” Janus’ voice dripped with sarcasm, “of course not. People can just do whatever they want to you with no consequences.” He waved his hand. “Who cares, right?” 

Logan froze up. His muscles were pulled taut, eyes squeezed shut, his body wilting like a dead flower. 

“Janus,” Patton scolded. 

He sighed. “Sorry. Look, of course it matters. Come on, sit down. Everything is fine.” 

Logan didn’t believe that. But he sat anyway. He answered their questions. He explained everything as honestly as he could. 

Part of him wanted to defend J., to insist that it really wasn’t that bad and J. loved him. But Logan wasn’t sure if J. did love him. He’d heard how Virgil talked about Janus, and there wasn’t a doubt in Logan’s mind that J. would never talk about him that way. He’d seen how Janus looked at Virgil, sometimes angry but usually in a protective way. It wasn’t like anything Logan had seen from J. 

Hearing them throw around the words ‘abusive,’ ‘manipulative,’ and even ‘gaslighting,’ was hard. Logan jammed the joystick on his fidget cube around so much he almost broke it, bouncing his leg up and down, eventually having to get up and pace. He kept waiting for the snapping, for everyone to tell him how annoying he was being and that he needed to sit and be quiet. They didn’t. 

It was almost uncomfortable. 

The conversation eventually moved— Logan was simultaneously relieved and disappointed —but everyone looked at him different after that. Before Virgil and Logan went back to their room, Patton offered a hug. Logan hesitated, and was about to step into Patton’s arms, when Virgil grabbed his shoulder— just long enough to make him pause. 

“You don’t have to say yes,” he said flatly. 

Patton’s eyes widened. “Oh, gosh! Right! Of course not. Sorry, Logan.”

Logan cleared his throat. “It’s okay.” 

On the walk back, Virgil said, “We’re going to have to work on that.” 

Logan shoved his hands in his pockets. With Fall kicking in full force, it was freezing outside at night, their breath coming out as fog. 

“Work on what?” He mumbled. His body was heavy, eyes lidded. 

“Your whole people pleaser bullshit. You don’t have to say yes to everything. It’s okay to not want to do something.” 

Logan swallowed. He shrugged. 

Virgil stepped in front of Logan and crossed his arms. “We need to set some boundaries, or else I can’t be friends with you. I’m not going to hurt you because you won’t communicate. I won’t be like J.” Virgil stared for a moment, eyes swiping over Logan’s face. His eyes softened. “I won’t be mad. You’re just going to have to trust me on that.” 

“I don’t…” Logan’s heart thumped in his ears. He pressed his thumb against the buttons of his cube. “I don’t really… I don’t know how to handle being touched.” 

Virgil’s eyebrows raised. “Oh? I mean, okay. So don’t touch you, then?” 

“Maybe, just… I don’t know, not that often?” Logan bounced on the balls of his feet. The cold had wormed its way into his bones, and he felt like if he didn’t move he’d either go crazy or freeze to death. 

“Come on, let’s get inside.” Virgil nodded towards the door. 

They didn’t talk until they were settled into their beds and the lights were off. 

“Thanks for telling me,” Virgil said. “I’ll talk to the others, too. You can always reach out if you want.” 

Logan’s eyes watered. He was grateful for the dark. “Yeah,” he whispered. 

“Goodnight, Lo.” 

“Goodnight, Virgil.” 

xxx 

Virgil and Logan laid on their stomachs, on the floor. Notebooks and textbooks were spread out in front of them, covered in highlighter and pen. 

It was a few months after Logan had confessed about J., and a few things were becoming apparent. 1) Virgil was not giving up on him. Neither were Janus or Patton. 

2) J. probably, almost definitely, did not love Logan. 

Every day it was becoming more and more clear. 

Logan had never been treated the way Virgil and his friends treated him. Sometimes they argued, sometimes Logan was so frustrated and confused he wanted to cry, but they never made him feel like he wasn’t important. Every fight was important. And for the first time, he was able to move on from them. Even when things weren’t quite resolved, even when there was still more to talk about— that didn’t stop Virgil from inviting him out to dinner, from joining him to study, for putting on a bad horror movie. 

“Alright,” Virgil sighed, pushing the textbook away and burying his face in his arms. His voice came out muffled, “if I look at American History anymore I’m going to die. What next?”

“Uh…” Logan cleared his throat and looked at their stack of remaining textbooks. 

Semester finals were coming up in the next month and Logan was severely behind in Calculus. 

“I don’t— I don’t know, what do you want to do next?” 

Virgil picked his head up sluggishly. He blinked at Logan for a second, hair mussed, wrinkles under his eyes. He grabbed their stack of textbooks and dragged it closer. 

He hummed as he looked through it, then pulled the Calculus and Economics textbooks. He shoved the others away. “Which one?” 

“Um…”

“Come on, I’m good with either. Which one?” 

Logan hesitated, then pushed away the Economics book. 

“Cool.” Virgil flipped the textbook open. “Come on, I want to get this done.” 

Logan flushed. He scrambled to find his notebook and flashcards, struggling to focus. A sturdy feeling of control settled over Logan’s bones, something he didn’t think he’d ever felt before. 

xxx 

“Almost ready to go?”

“Uh, yeah, just let me—” 

Logan yanked the blanket down his bed, then pushed aside his pillow. He relaxed and snatched his fidget cube, shoving it in his pocket. 

“Okay.” He straightened up. “I’m ready. Let’s go.” 

They left their dorm and headed downstairs. They’d planned to meet Janus and Patton in the parking lot so they could all go to this arcade nearby. Janus had jokingly (jokingly?) called it a double date. 

“Yeah, there’s this zombie game you’d really like,” Virgil rambled as they stepped outside. He immediately tensed against the cold and stepped closer to Logan. Logan shuffled against him, their shared body heat negligible. 

The parking lot appeared ahead and Logan stopped. 

“Lo?” Virgil frowned. “What’s up?” 

got out of his car and grinned as his eyes landed on Logan. He waved. 

“Um…” Shit. “I— I don’t know, uh—” 

“Logan!” 

Virgil looked over his shoulder as J. headed towards them. His face darkened. “Is that J.?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Hey!” J. stopped in front of them and grinned. “Surprise. Come on, let’s go grab dinner. Who’s this?” 

“Virgil.” Logan stepped closer. “My roommate, remember?” 

“Oh, yeah. Well anyway, let’s go.”

“Actually,” Virgil said in annoyance, “we had plans. Maybe you can call ahead next time.” 

quirked an eyebrow. Logan’s blood ran cold as J.’s eyes narrowed. “You’ll have to reschedule. He’s my little brother, I’m sure you can find someone else to drag along.” 

Virgil scoffed and glanced back at Logan, then stopped. “You’re not really considering this, are you?” 

Logan looked between them, helpless. He was terrified of upsetting either of them, but there was no way to please both of them. 

“I— I don’t know. J., we had plans,” he said quietly. 

“You can reschedule.” J. grabbed Logan’s arm and pulled him closer. “I haven’t seen you in forever, don’t be selfish.” 

“You don’t have to do what he wants,” Virgil insisted. His eyes were on J., face scrunched in a glower. 

“What’s up with you?” J. asked in frustration. “You’re acting like it’s a crime to take my little brother to dinner. Just lay off, will you?” 

He stormed away, dragging Logan behind him. Virgil huffed. His footsteps echoed away. 

Please don’t be mad. 

Logan forced himself through dinner. The entire night crawled by, full of passive aggressive comments and insults Logan had forgotten how much he hated. He didn’t understand why J. came all the way down here just to ridicule him. Couldn’t he do that over text like he usually did? Didn’t he catch on to why Logan stopped answering? 

After J. drove him back to campus, way after nightfall, he grabbed Logan’s arm before he could escape. “We need to talk.” 

Logan shoved his hand in his pocket. He flicked the switch, over and over, click-click-click— 

“Will you stop playing with that fuckin’ toy? I’m being serious.”

“It calms me down,” Logan mumbled, pulling his hand out. “Sorry.” 

“I don’t like Virgil,” he said flatly. “I don’t like how he treats you and honestly he’s fucking rude. You’ve been pulling away. Mom and Dad haven’t heard from you in months. I haven’t heard from you in longer. That’s not fair to us just because you have this new friend.” 

Logan stared. What the hell was he supposed to say? I like how Virgil treats me a whole fuckton more than you do. He couldn’t say that. Even if he wanted to, which he wasn’t sure he did. 

“I’ll talk to him about it,” he lied. 

“Talk to—” J. barked a laugh, “no, ask for a new roommate. I don’t want you talking to him at all anymore, okay?” 

Logan swallowed. “He’s my best friend.” 

“That’s a problem. He’s not good for you.” 

He pulled on the door handle a few times. “Can I go? I get it, I’m sorry.” 

“You clearly don’t get it. If you did—”

Logan pulled on the handle a few more times as J. droned on. His body was lighter, his head foggy. He could see himself tugging, tugging, could watch J. getting angrier and barely made out his mouth forming the words ‘stop with the fucking door.’ 

Then he was outside. 

peeled out of the parking lot, tired squeaking over the pavement, and Logan hurried to his dorm. 

Virgil paused the T.V. as Logan got inside. He panted, chest heaving. Did he run? He didn’t remember. 

“Logan?” Virgil stood. “Hey, what’s going on? What’d he do? Did he say something?” He hurried over. 

Logan stumbled through the story. Virgil’s glare deepened with each word, and every time Logan tried to make it better, Virgil just got angrier. 

“Stop apologizing,” he snapped. “Come here, you need to sit down.” 

He held out his hand, and Logan hesitated, before taking it. As Virgil led him to the bed, Logan focused on the texture— soft and cold. The pad of Virgil’s thumb was pressed against Logan’s palm. He craved more and he wanted to rip his hand away. 

Virgil sat Logan down, then took his back back and knelt down. “Where’s your cube?”

Logan shook his head. 

Virgil glared. “Did he take it?” 

“No! I just— I don’t need it.” 

“You clearly do. Come on, have I ever made fun of you for that?” 

Logan hesitated, then fumbled to get it out. Click-click-click. Click-clack-click-click. 

“Come on, follow my breathing. It’s okay. We’re going to figure this out. You don’t need him. It’s alright.”

Virgil slowly got Logan back in his body. His breathing became his again, and he was reminded of where he was. He gripped the covers, rubbing his fingers over the plush. 

“I’m sorry,” he managed. He still panted a little, his head light. 

“Sit here. I’m gonna grab some water.” 

Virgil came back and sat next to him. He handed Logan the water, who gulped it down. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he was. Virgil took the glass back, their fingers brushing, and set it on the desk. 

“I don’t think you should talk to him anymore.” 

Logan flinched. 

“I know. I know it’s confusing. It’s your decision. If you want to stay in contact with him for a little longer, I’m not going to hold that against you.”

Logan looked up in surprise. “What? But you want—”

“It’s not my life. I think he’s an asshole and I don’t think he deserves you, but I’m not going to make choices for you. Not these.” 

Logan’s eyes watered. He looked away. 

Virgil sighed. “You don’t have to do that. I won’t make fun of you.” 

He buried his face in his hands as his body shook. 

Virgil cleared his throat. “Usually when Patton cries, he wants hugs, I don’t… um… what do you need?” 

“What?” Logan’s voice cracked, and Virgil repeated himself. “A blanket?” 

Virgil reached around and pulled the blanket around Logan’s shoulders. He whispered “One second,” and rushed over to his bed. He dragged his weighted blanket over and settled that around Logan’s shoulders, too. 

Logan got his tears out while Virgil refilled his water. He took it with clammy hands, wiping his nose. “Thank you,” he mumbled. 

“You should get some sleep.” 

Logan nodded. He started to take off the weighted blanket, but Virgil held his hand up. “It’s alright. Keep it tonight.” 

Logan hesitated. “Are you sure?” 

“Wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t.” 

He swallowed. “Thank you. I— thank you.” 

Virgil smiled awkwardly. “Get some sleep.” 

Logan settled into bed as Virgil turned the lights off. He brought the weighted blanket up to his nose, eyelids fluttering closed. It smelled like Virgil. It was warm. 

Logan was safe. 

xxx 

Over the rest of the school year, Logan slowly worked at cutting off his parents and J. Virgil helped him, even through the hiccups. There was a moment Logan thought he could fix things, that he and J. could reconcile— then J. gaslit him and Logan almost switched colleges. Virgil made it clear what J. was doing, and Logan hadn’t spoken to J. since. 

The two eventually agreed to get an apartment together after college. Logan got a part time job to keep his mind busy, and he barely had any free time between that and the studying, but he spent most of it with Virgil. 

“And how satisfied were you with your roommate this year?” The registrar asked as Logan sat in the oversized armchair. 

“Um, he was good. I liked my roommate.” 

“Would you like to continue rooming with him next year?” 

She barely finished speaking before Logan blurted out a ‘yes.’ She laughed and noted it down. Logan met Virgil outside afterwards, and they headed towards the Junior parking lot. 

“You said yes to rooming next year, right?” Virgil asked. 

Logan nodded. “Yeah. You?” 

“Nah, didn’t feel like it.” He smiled. “‘Course I did. You can’t get rid of me.” 

Logan laughed. “What do you want to eat?” 

“I think I’m gonna force Janus to buy me a pizza.” 

He wrinkled his nose. 

Virgil snorted. “What, you don’t want pizza?” 

“That pizzeria you like is disgusting.” 

“You’re disgusting.” 

“Come on, we eat there too much. Can’t we get something else?” 

Virgil pretended to think about it for a moment, before rolling his eyes. “Yeah, whatever. You can pick this time. I’ll tell Janus and Patton to deal with it.” 

Logan grinned. They made it to the parking lot and piled into Janus’ truck. Logan told them what they were eating for dinner, and as Janus headed that way, Virgil nudged Logan with his elbow. 

“I’m proud of you,” he murmured. 

Patton had turned the radio on. Pop music blared through the speakers, but Logan could hear perfectly with Virgil’s mouth close to his ear. Not enough to touch. Just close. 

Logan flushed. “For what?” 

“You’ve come a long way this year.” 

“But I still—”

“Shh. Not focusing on that right now. I’m proud of you.”

Logan’s stomach filled with butterflies. Virgil pulled away with a grin, then yelled something at Janus, who flicked him off. 

Logan settled back with a smile. 

reblogs > likes 

Here’s my commission info! You can do a whole fic like this if you’d like but there’s also super cheap ficlets and drabbles, so if you like this, maybe consider throwing me a few bucks :D 

[daydream-believin]

The Never-Ending Roadtrip (new beginnings)

Summary: Reader joins Douxie in the quest for Nari’s safety. He’ll need company won’t he? - Also, a talk about Merlin and grief. It’s big feelings time. (part two)

Warnings: Swearing, theres like three bad puns and at least one meme im sorry

Word Count: 2713

A/N: inspired by the fact that i recently moved states and it was the most tedious trip ever. It took the entire day. i was bored out of my mind. So i decided to write about going on a long boring roadtrip with Douxie instead. also, i have a black cat myself and i can attest that they are little domesticated demons. she didn’t like the long trip either.

“And what do you think you’re doing?” Douxie deadpanned when he saw (Name) run up to join him on the ship, perching on the edge. “Well I’m coming with you, obviously.” Douxie had known the young woman long enough to know that there would not be a point in arguing. They would just go round and round for hours before she ultimately won. She fought dirty, puppy dog eyes and all. He didn’t have time for this.

After making sure that Archie and Nari were secure, Doux turned back to (Name), “You’re absolutely sure about this decision, love? Once we take off there’s no going back. We could even be running for the rest of our lives. You really should stay with the others,” he warned.

She looked annoyed. “Yes, Doux. I am absolutely sure. I wouldn’t want you to do this alone. And besides, you’ll need me.”

He blushed for a second before realizing she meant he would need her as in extra backup and not that he needed her needed her. Trying not to show the slight disappointment that was written on his face, he chuckled and covered his cheek with his palm, “Of course.”

They set off into the early morning sky. After waving goodbye to the rest of the gang, (Name) clung to the golden railing, looking out over California in amazement. It was like she was in a movie. This was her life changing magic carpet ride. Of course, a lot about her life had seemed to be out of a movie lately. Ever since she discovered her gift for sorcery. Ever since she got mixed up in all this Arcadian mess. Ever since she met Douxie.

Surprisingly, Douxie was really talkative for the first few hours of the trip. (Name) had expected him to be a bit more closed off, considering the week they had just gone through. He was really gushy too, with his heart on his sleeve even more so than usual, and that’s saying something for Douxie. Maybe momentary death was good for unclogging heart pipes.  (Name) was loving it. Not the momentary death thing. That had almost stopped her heart. No, it was so nice to be having such lighthearted conversation with her friends. Kept her from dwelling on things. Once night got closer, though, she couldn’t help it. What could she say, the pink splattered purple sunset made her sentimental. She and Douxie had slipped into a little talk about Arcadia, about the kids, about what had happened, and about what was next for them. Despite her gushing about how happy she was to be here with him, Douxie still felt really guilty that he put her through all this. She made the mistake of telling him how much it scared her, everything that happened earlier. She made a bigger mistake telling him how she cried over his body, refusing to accept that he was gone. He wasn’t of course, but she didn’t know that.

He suddenly got quiet after that. The conversation lulled. Even Nari and Archie seemed to sense that something was off and kept quiet. After watching the stars roll by in silence for a few hours, (Name) started to feel the tug of sleep. She tried to find a cozy spot, but failed, because she was on a ship. A pretty basic little vessel. There were no seats or anything even kind of cushiony. She contemplated using Archie as a pillow, but that probably wouldn’t fly well with him. Pun intended.

Douxie was still as statue, staring out straight ahead into the clouds. Like a grizzled old sea captain. The bags under his eyes were getting worse than usual, but (Name) decided to not to say anything to him and let it be. He looked like he was enjoying the silence. She didn’t think he’d sleep tonight. How could he? She mused. (Name) herself hadn’t even begun to truly process all that had happened. She wished she knew what to say. Anything to comfort him, to let him know she’s be there. But (Name) was no use now, in her sleepy state. She might make it worse. She’d try talking to him in the morning. If he even wanted to talk.

In the end, (Name) wound up leaning against the corner, using her balled up over-shirt as a pillow. It was a bit colder now, but with Nari snuggled up in her lap and Archie stretched out over her legs, she’d be just fine. They might as well had been heaters. Doux wouldn’t join them, insisting that they needed to fly through the entire night to put as much distance between them and Arcadia as possible. He assured them that he’d wake them up if something was the matter. Of course, they were sleeping on an open deck floor. Any sort of trouble would wake them up immediately anyway, but it was a nice thought. (Name) snuggled into her makeshift pillow. She took one last look at Douxie, brooding at the helm, before slipping off to dreamland. It was a mediocre dream.

The morning sun came sooner than (Name) wanted. The cheeky bugger. There was no use trying to go back to sleep. The sun was too big and bright. so, so bright. Nari also stirred when the sun beam hit her face. She blinked blearily and let out a cute yawn. Or at least it would have been cute, had it not been directly into (Name)’s face. (Name) had to give it to Nari though, her morning breath actually didn’t smell bad. It was earthy, floral even. Damn nature spirits. Despite (Name) and Nari being awake, the sun’s rays seemed to have little to no effect on Archie. He could sleep through anything, on anything, at any time. Damn cats.

Douxie looked like the dead. His raven hair was a mess, lips chapped from the wind. Those eyebags had somehow gotten even worse. Douxie gave Tim Burton characters a run for their money. (Name) decided it might be better to wait until she was a bit more awake and articulate to try and talk to him more about… the, ah, events from yesterday. Yet, she was fully aware that if she kept procrastinating, the conversation was just going to get worse and worse. But the timing’s not right. Yes, the timing’s just not right. The stars, they’re not in position. In fact it might be easier if she got him to take a nap first. Yeah, no need to cause sleep deprived Douxie to have an unnecessary breakdown.

It took some convincing, but (Name) finally got him to agree to let her take the helm and get that well deserved rest. Not that Douxie thought he deserved it. He wasn’t too happy about leaving (Name) and Nari alone, figuratively, while he was unconscious and unable to protect them. He wasn’t too happy about a lot of things, really. He especially didn’t care to be alone with his subconscious. But with the worried look (Name) gave him, he couldn’t help but comply with her demands. Her and her bloody puppy dog eyes.

He woke up to the sound of (Name)’s singing. She probably hadn’t meant to wake him up, with her soft voice hushed, but nonetheless he was awake. Douxie was a light sleeper. He had to be, after all his troublesome years. She was singing a sweet little love song. He felt a drumming in his chest as he listened. Speaking of his chest, there seemed to be a bit of pressure on it. A familiar pressure. It started to purr, sending the comforting vibrations through his ribcage. He gave Arch a good scritch behind the ears before sitting up.

“Your voice is so lovely, you know. I cannot imagine why you’re always hiding it.”

Name startled. “Did I wake you?” she asked, concerned since he hadn’t been out but for a few hours.

“Yes, you had,” He began gently, “But, I’m glad.”

“You’re glad?”

“Of course, I got to hear that beautiful singing voice of yours. Quite the rarity, innit?”

(Name) flushed. She wasn’t sure if she was flattered by his compliments or embarrassed that he had caught her singing once again. Still, she tried to refute his words but all that came out was a flustered sputter. Thankfully, Nari came to the rescue. Unintentionally, but a rescue all the same.

“Hisirdoux, now that you are awake, may I ask where it is that we are going?” the small goddess asked.

“Oh, uh, about that,” Doux wrapped his arms behind his back and sucked some air through his teeth, “I actually didn’t have a set place in mind. I think we’ll just wing it. On our winged boat.”

(Name) whipped her head towards him so fast she’d get whiplash. She didn’t even acknowledge the terrible joke. “I’m terribly sorry, but you what.”

“I just thought we’d head northeast for now. Once we run out of land, we’ll pick a new direction. It’s not like we’d be able to stay too long in a place, after all. It’s safer to be constantly moving.” He tried not to sound to unsure in this rambling. He did have a plan, just not one that looked too solid on a piece of paper. It’ll be fine. They’ll be fine.

“I- okay.” She didn’t sound too panicked, which Douxie counted as a win. Still, he didn’t want her to be too stressed about the uncertainties. He figured he might as well just pick a place to ease her fears a bit. She couldn’t worry herself raw, that was his job.

“How about New York City? That can be our first official destination on the Never-Ending Roadtrip.”

“Yeah, yeah okay. New York City, that sounds nice.” Victory.

***

“Ugh, we’ve been flying over basically the same damn thing forever! Can’t this thing go any faster?” (Name) whined as she leaned over the edge like a wilted flower. Her wind-mussed hair hung over her face. It took everything in Douxie not to flinch whenever she got to close to where she might fall out. Sure, she would most likely be able to break her fall with magic, not coming out with too many scratches, but it still scared him just the same. (Name) was gonna give him a heart attack one of these days.

“It’s a fucking magical flying boat, (Name). It goes eighty miles per hour tops. Do you know how advanced that was in the twelfth century? It was a fucking miracle of technology, (Name). It’s not the boat’s fault we’re currently travelling through Kansas.” Doux huffed. He quickly felt guilty for snapping at her and apologized. He felt a bit on edge lately. Their conversation last night kind of freaked him out. He wanted to be a little more protective of her now since she told him about how scared she was, but snapping at her would just accomplish the opposite of getting across how much he cared.

Name sighed. Looking around the ship, she noticed that Nari and Archie were just napping in the sun, completely unbothered by her and Douxie’s loud outbursts. She looked back out into the seemingly infinite grass field again.

“Well, I guess now is a pretty good time,” She said cryptically, “Hisirdoux, we need to talk.”

It was like she just injected ice water into his veins. He didn’t like her tone, plus, those words were never proceeded by something good. Never. “To talk?” he asked with a nervous tinge in his voice, hoping if she elaborated it wouldn’t be as bad as the conclusions he was jumping to.

“Yeah. Talk. About your feelings.” Well now he was panicking. She said that so solemnly. How did she know? Fuzzbuckets, she was about to reject him, on this boat they were stuck on, in the middle of Kansas. Rip out his heart and throw it into the grassy void.

“To talk, about my feelings?” he repeated her again, incredulously. He put on his best fake smile.

“Yes, Doux.” She sat down on the railing near him and crossed her legs. “I just- I think it’s time we had a proper conversation about stuff. Like say, I don’t know, how you’re handling your grief over a certain mentor.”

Douxie quickly let go of the breath, he wasn’t sure when he started holding, in a loud sigh of relief. Oh thank Merlin, he thought this was going to be bad. That’s what she wanted to talk about? Okay, not the problem he was expecting, but one he could deal with. He’s already had a couple of good cries. He spent most of last night mulling over not just Merlin but the whole concept of death. He could talk about the weight of grief hanging over his heart, no big deal.

“I believe I am handling it well, thank you for your concern, Love.” He tried to sound nonchalant.

“Hisirdoux Casperan, you stared out into the distance with unblinking glassy eyes for hours last night and barely spoke to any of us. Hell, you fucking died yesterday, Doux. Don’t think I’ve forgotten about that. You’re not fine. And you’re not weaseling your way out of this conversation either.” She said sternly. They entered an unspoken staring contest.

“Alright, Love, fine. I am fine. Okay?” She quirked her brow. “I am, truly. I’m at peace. He lived a good life and I’ll continue his legacy with honour. Of course I’m still sad about it, but I’ve got other things to focus on right now. Sure, my chest is still heavy, but it’s not crushing like it was when the wound was fresh,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “And I did get my last goodbye talk with him when I was dead,” He chuckled to try and lighten that last bit up, but name still winced at his words.

“Douxie, I just- I know what it’s like, ya know. To suddenly no longer have that father figure in your life. Someone you looked up to for so long. It’s hard Doux, I get that.” She sympathized. She tipped her head down towards the deck floor.

“Well, in a way, he’s already been gone for about, say, nine centuries. I’ve had my time away from him, so I know that I can do it. It’s the knowing that now he’s gone gone that’s the real kicker.” He glanced across the boat over to the sleeping pile of fur and greenery. Nari was curled up into a ball while Archie mirrored the same, but on top of her. They were like a couple of stacked buns. Douxie smiled at the sight. “And yet, do you know what makes it all feel better?” Name looked back up at him and furrowed her brows.

“You. And Archie. And Zoe. And Claire. And my bandmates and my coworkers and the rest of the Arcadia gang. I’ve got plenty of people in the world now. I know I’ve got all kinds of love.”  He hung his arm over her shoulders. He had made up his mind, he was going to open his heart to her soon. Almost dying really puts one’s priorities in view. “Recently, a great man, well, a great dragon, told me that family is not just who you have, it’s also who you’re with. If one thing I’ve learned in this nightmare week, it’s that you’ve got to enjoy people while you can. Because once they’re gone, they’re gone. You can’t dwell on past love, you’ve got to soak in the love you’ve got now, or you’ll miss it.”

“I guess I understand that.” (Name) said softly. She took in his words. Focus on the now love, huh. She could use to do that too. She felt his hand move from her shoulder to the small of her back.

“Oh hey look at that, we’re coming up on Missouri. How about we stop for brunch, Love?”

“Oh I’m starving,” Archie butt into the conversation and flew over to rest on (Name)’s shoulder. He did one of those black cat yawns where they turn their entire faces inside out and they become nothing more than a black hole with teeth, “I could really go for a bagel with extra lox right now.”

[bellascarousel]

The Second Annual Bridgerton Family Pall Mall Game

Day 7 of Kathony week. Prompt: There Is No "I" in Team. I know I didn't participate for the past 4 days. Muse refused to cooperate. I may come back and write those, later.

Kate and Anthony's competitiveness takes a turn for the interesting during a game of pall mall, leading to Anthony doing something nobody would have expected.

Anthony took his pocket watch out and looked at it for possibly the tenth time that afternoon. He sighed then looked over at his wife. “Where in the world is your sister?”

“My guess would actually be stalling. Hoping that if she’s late enough, we’ll just start without her.”

He shook his head, not sure he wanted to know what was going on in his sister-in-law’s head. “We are not going to start without her. The whole point of the second annual Bridgerton family pall mall game is to have a rematch. It hardly counts as a rematch if we don’t have the same players. Besides, why would she stall to try to get out of playing?” He couldn’t fathom it. Granted, Edwina didn’t seem to care for how competitive the others got during the last game. His first sign that she was perhaps not really the woman he should be pursuing. After all, her fitting in with his family had been one of his requirements. And Edwina didn’t. Not the way Kate did. He gave his wife a soft smile.

“Honestly, Anthony. She didn’t particularly want to play last year, either. I think she did it more because she was afraid that if she didn’t play, I wouldn’t either. I don’t think she realized that I was quite interested in playing and was hoping she wouldn’t because I wanted to keep her away from you.”

He frowned at that. “And why was she so concerned about getting you to play?”

Kate laughed and held up her left hand. “My guess would be because of this.”

“You mean to tell me that the entire time I thought that I was courting Edwina, she was playing matchmaker for me and you?”

“Complaining?”

Anthony’s response was to take her into his arms and kiss her, propriety be damned. It was just his family, after all. He rested his hand on her belly, that had just started to swell from the child she was carrying. “Not at all. At least, not in hindsight. But, I have to admit that I would probably have been upset had I known it at the time.”

There was the sound of someone gagging behind him. “Can you two go be disgustingly in love somewhere else, where the rest of us don’t have to watch it?”

“Maybe you should find a wife of your own, Colin. Then you might not feel the need to complain about other people’s relationships.” He finally saw Edwina slowly making her way over to them, and he turned to where the mallets were stacked up. And frowned again. “Where is the mallet of death?”

Colin shrugged, holding up the yellow mallet. “Don’t look at me. It wasn’t there when I got this.”

Kate and Daphne both shrugged, with empty hands. And neither his wife or his sister would bother to hide it if they had his mallet. Anthony’s eyes narrowed as he turned on his brother-in-law. “You have my lucky mallet.”

“I believe it’s my lucky mallet, this year. It served Kate well in our last game, after all.”

Anthony glared at him, then turned his glare on his wife when he heard her giggling. “Well, I am not going to be pink, again.” He reached down and grabbed the orange mallet.

Kate just shrugged and picked up the pink one. “Fine. I will. Blue or green, Daphne?”

“I’ll be green. Since Edwina is playing under protest, just to make you two idiots happy, we might as well let her have the blue. I understand it’s her favorite color?”

Kate smiled at her. “It is. And thank you. That is very sweet of you.”

Edwina caught up with them, then, and Daphne handed her the blue mallet. “We saved this for you. Though, if you want to trade, I believe that anybody except Simon would be willing to.”

“No, blue is my favorite. Thank you for saving it for me.”

Anthony rolled his eyes. “All right, let’s get started. Simon? I believe you start, old man.” His brother-in-law glared at him, then took his turn. Anthony and Colin followed. But, as Kate was lining up her shot, Anthony walked back over to her. “Are you really sure you feel up to playing? I don’t want you to hurt the baby.”

“Funny, I don’t recall you being this concerned for me, last year.”

Kate giggled. “I think he’s actually more worried that I’m going to tire myself out. But, he’s hardly going to actually say that. So, he has to disguise it as concern for the baby.”

Daphne stared at them for a minute, then mimicked Colin’s gagging noise. “I really didn’t need to hear that. That is my brother you’re talking about. ”

Kate just laughed and took her shot, landing near Anthony’s ball. Though not as close as she had been after their first turn last year. This time he wouldn’t be able to hit her ball down the hill. At least, not on his next turn. He fully believed that his chance to annoy his wife was coming.

An hour later, and things were looking eerily familiar. Kate and Anthony stood at the bottom of the hill, staring at the pall mall balls that were almost touching. And knowing that there was no way either of them were going to get back into the game. “Well, dear. It seems that we have a few choices, here.”

Anthony looked up at Kate. “And what would those choices be?”

“We can concede defeat and give up on the game entirely. We can still play until one of the others wins and ends the game. Or, we could make things interesting.”

Anthony had started to scoff at Kate’s suggestion that they concede defeat. They were both too competitive for that. There might not be any chance of either of them actually winning, but that didn’t mean they weren’t going to try. Kate was obviously only suggesting that for the sake of listing all possible options. But, it was when she suggested making things interesting that he turned to her, intrigued. “And how would we do that?”

“A wager, between the two of us. Neither of us is going to win this game. That much is obvious. But, there is no reason not to wager on beating each other.”

“So, we finish the game, even though we’re going to come in fifth and sixth?” At Kate’s nod, he continued. “And what do you have in mind as our wager?”

The look she gave him made his body tighten with need. “The winner gets to tie the loser to the bed, tonight.”

Anthony choked. That was certainly the last thing he was expecting. Though, he realized that he should have expected the wager to involve the bedroom. Once the queasiness had passed, Kate had become even more amorous than she had been before getting with child. A development he never would have thought possible.

She held her hand out. “So, Lord Bridgerton? Is it a bet?”

“We can hardly seal this particular bet with a handshake, Lady Bridgerton. A handshake is far too civilized.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her deeply. Several minutes later, he pulled away. “It’s a bet.”

Colin came running to the top of the hill. “Simon just went. Your turn, Anthony.”

Anthony looked down at the balls at his feet. Then up the hill to where the next wicket was. Then at his wife. Then he glanced at the lake out of the corner of his eye. There was no way to make it look like a miscalculation. He looked at Kate, again. And decided that he really didn’t care if she knew what he was up to. He shifted, lined up his shot, ignoring the shocked look on Kate’s face as she realized what he was about to do. And then he sent his ball sailing straight into the lake.

Kate gasped. And Colin crowed. “Anthony Bridgerton! Did you really just throw the game? I never thought I would see the day.”

“He did what, now?” Daphne appeared next to Colin, staring at Anthony incredulously. “What in the world could possibly make you throw a game of pall mall?”

Anthony shrugged and looked over at Kate. “My wife made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

His sister looked back and forth between them for a minute. “You know what? I don’t want to know.” She gave him a wicked grin. “I do remember that stage, after all.” And then she disappeared, dragging Colin along behind her.

Anthony turned to Kate who was still staring at him, shocked. “I think that perhaps next year we should rethink our bet.”

[prettybiching]

well since requests are open for John King 👀👀 (i’ve never actually requested anything so don’t judge) what if the reader is somehow introduced to him through one of his co-anchors (who knows the reader has a crush bc of all that glorious election coverage), and we see what would happen maybe on a first date?? it doesn’t have to be smutty but i certainly wouldn’t be opposed..i love your writing btw!!! blessing us in this (small) John King fandom

Dessert

Pairing: John King x fem! reader Warning: 18+ mature scenes (oral f receiving), swear words and sexual innuendoes. Viewer’s discretion is advised, you’re responsible for your media consumption. Word Count: 2.5k words Note: I changed it up a bit, hope you don’t mind :)

Anderson Cooper, ever the stoic news anchor loved to play matchmaker for his friends. It was a trait Andy had managed to rub off on him, but he enjoyed it more than he'd like to admit.

Y/N had involuntarily become the latest victim of his match-making tendencies.

She didn't mean to babble out her newfound infatuation with his colleague, John King, to him but Anderson and Andy had managed to get her drunk, absolutely wasted. Before she could stop herself, she was slipping out all the unholy thoughts she'd been dreaming since election week.

The teasing that followed was relentless. It didn't help that Y/N had preliminarily promised to accompany Anderson to DC. She just hoped she wouldn't have to face the silver fox himself.

-----

She knew something was terribly wrong the moment she saw the wicked smile etched on Anderson's face.

"Uhm, why are you smiling like that?" she asked, her eyes wide with trepidation as Anderson let himself into her hotel room.

"You, young lady," he trailed, heading straight for the unpacked suitcase that laid on her bed, "have a date tonight."

Her mouth hung wide open in disbelief and horror, "What?!"

"Yup," he answered, not bothering to turn around, ruffling the contents of her luggage, every so often examining the articles of clothing.

"I don't wanna go on a date," she whined, throwing her head back. Dragging her feet to where Anderson stood, making an absolute wreck of her belongings, she plopped herself on the bed, tugging out her lips and staring at him with pleading eyes.

At last, he halted at his action, clumsily throwing the blouse he had in his hands in the briefcase before turning towards her. "Trust me, you'll make me the godfather of your future children after tonight."

"T-tonight?" she sputtered, jolting out of bed. There was no way she was going on that date now, she didn't even know who he was!

"Anderson, I love you, but a heads up would've been nice," she sighed, placing her hands on her hips.

Anderson stroked his chin for a second, in thought before scrunching his face, "Nope, where's the fun in that?"

Y/N gave him a deadpan look, slumping her shoulders. She knew sooner or later, she'd have to accept defeat. There was no way she was winning against Anderson Cooper. "Will, you at least tell me who it is?"

He smirked, mischief was written all across his face as he shook his head, "You already know what I'm about to say."

She groaned, taking a few steps towards him before clumsily planting her forehead on his shoulder. "You're the worst!"

Wrapping his arms around her figure, he let out a laugh, his body vibrating beneath her. "You know you love me."

"No, I don't."

------

After Y/N's long foreseen defeat, Anderson dragged her to go shopping with him stating that her limited clothing 'just wouldn't do'.  She went along without a fight, admitting that she didn't pack anything she could wear on a date.

Despite going along with her best friend's words and having full faith in his match-making abilities, she wasn't sure how much of a success the night would be. Not when her mind could only fixate on the image of a certain news anchor between her thighs.

However, she didn't want her silly fantasies to get in the way of her actual love life and with the help of Anderson's picky taste, decided on a dress for the evening. Although the black half-slit bodycon wasn't something she'd usually wear, she felt confident in it, and that was all that mattered.

As she was on her way to the outdoor French restaurant near Washington Harbour that her date had picked for the night. She knew the restaurant was fancy from all the reviews she'd seen online.

As the uber driver drove closer and closer to the destination, Y/N was a bundle of nerve. She didn't know what to expect, hell, she knew nothing about him at all aside from Anderson's confidence that the night would go well.

The car came to a screeching halt in front of the park-like restaurant, fairy lights and intertwining vines of leaves decorating the area. 'What's the worst that could happen?" she let out a sharp breath, trying to calm her nerves as she exited the vehicle.

She made her way to the reception, her eyes advertently scanning her surroundings to spot a familiar face. "Hi, my name's Y/N L/N, I believe I have a reservation?"

The receptionist gave her a practised smile before leading her to her table, "right this way, Ms L/N."

Y/N followed her lead, her steps being clumsy from the knot of nerves forming in her stomach and her heart stopped when she saw the man standing up as she made her way towards him. John fucking King.

She was going to kill Anderson.

Unable to move a muscle, she froze at her feet as he approached her. He had a crisp perfectly fitted black suit on and a warm smile on his lips that had her knees buckling. She just hoped she didn't look like a lunatic in front of him.

"You okay there, Y/N?" he mused, flashing his teeth.

Crossing her arms across her chest, she opened her mouth, trying to form a coherent thought. "I- yes, I'm okay," she stammered, squirming under John's unmoving gaze.

She had met John a couple of times in the past, none of the interactions was long enough to be considered memorable. She was always afraid of making a fool out of herself. Seemed like she was compensating for all of those in one go.

John didn't look convinced but didn't push her on it any further. Instead, he extended his elbow towards her with a quirk of his brow, "shall we?"

Awkwardly she interlocked her arms with his and followed his lead, all the while making sure she didn't fall face-first onto the floor.

They stopped in front of a table in the back corner of the patio; mostly hidden away from plain sight. Y/N smiled, knowing Anderson must've told him that she preferred such setting.

John quickly untangled their arms, preventing her from moving further as he pulled out a chair, gesturing towards her to sit. She flashed him a grateful smile, overwhelmed by all of his efforts. Was she ever going to stop smiling in front of him?

Once she was seated, John took his place across from her, fixing his suit jacket as he did. She tried her best to divert her gaze from his hands, but it seemed near impossible. She was sure she'd faint before the night came to an end.

Finishing his task, he turned to face her, his entire focus towards her.  Clearing her throat, Y/N shifted at her spot. "how awfully did Anderson bully you into this?" she chuckled, trying to soothe her nerves.

Squinting his eyes, he tilted his head sideways before shrugging, "he didn't bully me at all really. He merely put forth the suggestion, and I was down."

Pursing her lips, she paused for a moment before shaking her head, laughing. It wasn't until she took in John's earnest expression did she realise he wasn't joking. "Seriously?"

He nodded. "However," he began, a slight remnant smile gracing his lips as he wriggled his index finger at Y/N, "I did tell Anderson to tell you, but he was insistent, and you remain oblivious about our date."

Her mouth hung open in disbelief as she leaned back into her chair, muttering through gritted teeth, "I'll kill him."

John let out a laugh, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he insisted, "Please don't. I have much to thank him for."

She tilted her head towards him in confusion, waiting for him to continue.

John averted his gaze, a nervous chuckle erupting from his throat, "I might've never had the courage to ask you out without his meddling."

She blinked, her eyes widening slightly at the revelation. "Y-you wanted to ask me out?" she sputtered, leaning forward.

As if her words had flicked a switch in him, he straightened his back, the earlier nervousness was long gone as a smug smile took over his features. "Also..." he trailed, interlocking his hands on the table.

"He may or may not have accidentally spilt that you have a crush on me?"

"No." "Yes." "No, shut up."

"Truce?" he quirked his brow, reaching his hand across the table for hers. Y/N eyed his hand warily before letting out a sigh and giving in. "Fine."

"I can't believe you two were basically conspiring against me this whole time," she whined, her lips tugging out into a pout.

She should've known Anderson wouldn't be able to keep his mouth shut for too long. However, she couldn't believe her own eyes that the gorgeous man in front of her reciprocated her feelings.

Unaware of the butterflies fluttering in her stomach, John cooed squeezing her hand, "but wouldn't you say it's come to a favourable conclusion?"

She couldn't deny that everything had worked out in her favour. Without her best friend's meddling, she would've never gotten the courage to admit her feelings for John.

Once the pout disappeared from her face, John reclined back into his chair, her hand still in his. "Now, how about we get started with some wine?"

------------

The date was a definite success, she would say. After the initial awkward passed, with some alcohol in her system, she found herself more comfortable around John. Not to mention that he was effortlessly the most charming man she'd ever encountered.

She had tried to restrain herself from staring at him when he made the smallest movement, but it was near impossible. She was completely enamoured by him. All the flirty smiles, casual brushing of their legs, teasing touches and lingering glances didn't help either. He knew what he was doing, that smug bastard.

John was in the middle of an amusing story, something that had happened at work that week. Y/N wished she could say she was listening, but she was far more distracted by his hands that he sporadically used as he spoke.

"Y/N? he called her name, snapping her back to reality.

"Yes?" she answered, tugging in her bottom lip as she stared at him with round eyes.

He smirked, having caught her not-so-subtle gaze. "I said, I was hoping to have some dessert if you would allow it."

Her lips twitched, not missing the mischief behind his eyes as he spoke. She would've missed it if it weren't for the way his pupils dilated as he uttered the words.

Wordlessly, she leaned forward, reaching her hand out to touch the side of his face. John tilted his head, kissing the inside of her palm as her fingers hovered over the dip of his jaw, the scent of his aftershave making her heart pound a little faster.

"Yes, of course," she murmured, almost inaudibly, her eyes locked into his aquatic ones. "Although, it'd like for you to have it elsewhere."

On cue, John pulled his hand back and fixed his tie before calling out for their server, asking for the bill. The two bickered for a moment, Y/N insisting they split the bill, but he was having none of it, ending the argument by saying she could pay for their next date.

Yes, the next one. There was going to be another one after this evening. It made Y/N smile more than it should've.

He drove the two back to his place, the car ride going painfully slow. Neither of them spoke during the journey. Instead, John kept his hand on her thigh, the hand sliding closer to her heated core throughout the ride.

As soon as the door to John's apartment closed shut, his lips were pressed hard against hers as he led the two towards the dining table. She felt the table dig into her hips from behind as he hovered over her. He wasted no time in grabbing her by the waist and lifting her up on the surface, moving his lips down to her jaw and neck as he hummed against her skin.

She ran a hand through his hair, breathing in as his other hand ghosted over her hip, running down then back up before it made its way underneath her dress, tugging at her panties. “Are you fond of these?”

“Yes,” She breathed out, her eyelashes fluttering, “Don’t destroy my clothes.”

John smirked, then leaned over her, kissing her again as he focused on pulling the tie open as he pushed her back flat against the cool wood. There was no barrier but her dress between the two. He quickly unzipped the back of her dress before she shrugged it off her body and threw it to a corner. Grabbing one of her thighs, he pushed her legs up and apart. He dropped down to one knee between her legs, hooking his arms under her as he pulled her closer and dropped his head to kiss her thigh slowly, tongue darting out onto her skin.

She was already breathing hard, her mind a little fuzzy from the wine, skin burning with every touch. John was overwhelming, in an incomprehensible way, and she lifted her hips as he rid her of her underwear in a flash, fingers sliding across her slowly.

Moaning, she slid her hand through his hair, falling flat on the table as his tongue wandered over her skin, teasing and sliding until he pushed a finger into her slowly and buried his face between her legs.

“Darling,” He urged her, looking up briefly as the vibrations of his words made her moan again. “Feel free to be loud.”

Her eyes rolled back into her head as he began to move his finger, adding a second one as his tongue moved against her clit, pressing against her as his hands expertly moved against her skin, pulling her closer and then pressing a hand against her stomach as the pressure began to build. She rolled her hips forward on the table, breathing harder and harder as she tried to hold back, but the noises kept getting louder as she pressed against him and softly whispered his name.

He was relentless as he moved faster, jerking her hips almost fully off the table as he groaned against her, sucking on her clit harshly and moving his fingers faster, curling them up and angling his wrist. Her other hand jerked down, grabbing onto his hand as she gasped and arched off the surface, the other hand tugging on his hair as she jerked against him, feeling the waves of warmth and overwhelming shock as her orgasm hit her hard enough that he turned his head and bit down on her thigh, prolonging the aftershocks.

When he pulled back, he moved his hand, sliding it out of her and then bringing it up to her mouth, pushing her lips open. Obliging, she took his digits in, moaning as she tasted herself, her eyes fixated on his intense gaze. Pulling them out, he closed his eyes, licking his fingers clean and looked up at her with a smile.

“Would you like to stay for the evening?”

As if there was any doubt.