#that's probably the key to getting the tone right. it's not mocking anything but you are allowed to laugh

[balkanlila]

I. LOVE. TELEVISION.

[stellamarielu]

on the job

joel miller x female reader

summary: you and joel are forced to work together, but neither of you can get past the others stubborn attitude or contractor!joel and interior designer!reader fuck in a walk-in closet

content: nsfw, 18+ mdni, pre outbreak!joel, he’s kind of a huge asshole sorry, teasing, degradation, dirty talk, slightly dubcon, fingering, use of nicknames such as princess sweetheart and good girl, finger sucking, unprotected p in v sex, rough sex, sex against a wall, kinda public sex bc it’s on a job site?? pull out game strong with this one

author’s note: based on this lovely request. i made joel a little mean bc it felt right but at the end of the day he will forever be babygirl. also, i know very little about both of these professions so i apologize for any inaccuracies in that department

You liked to think that you were easy to work with, always polite and mindful— pleasant even.

You mostly kept to yourself, especially when you were working on a project alongside others, however, not everyone shared your cooperative mindset.

In fact, you had worked with a multitude of assholes. Men who thought they held some kind of power over you, who flourished under the opportunity to demean and mock your job like theirs was more important, but none of them even held a candle to Joel Miller.

Your paths crossed when you were hired by a pretentious, middle-aged woman in Austin to help design the interior of her new home— a home that was still under construction.

To make yourself familiar with the layout, you visited the site multiple times in the weeks before construction was scheduled to finish.

It was always an easy and uneventful trip. You greeted the workers, took a few pictures, wrote down some dimensions and then you were gone in twenty minutes tops; but that all changed the day you met Joel. 

You waltzed into the house, waving to one of the men you had come to know from your previous visits and then you heard it, a deep berating voice targeted directly at you.

“Who the hell are you and why are you on my site without a fuckin’ hard hat?”

You stopped in your tracks as you were met with an unknown face. 

“Uh sorry. I’m working on an interior design project for the Johnson’s. They told me I was welcome to come check out the space if I needed anything.” You didn’t know why, but your voice was coming out in compliance, the tone hushed. 

The way this man approached you was incredibly entitled and unabashedly rude.

Normally you wouldn’t let some asshole like this get within two feet of you, let alone talk to you like that; but this guy had you questioning your morals for a split second. He was tall, and broad, and handsome. The southern drawl slipping from the smug curl of his lips and the flex of his biceps as his arms crossed over his chest, had your words stuttering.

“Well, until my job is finished, and the Johnson’s have the keys to their front door, I call the shots. And I don’t do well with unexpected visitors walkin’ around while my guys are trying to get work done.”

Your mouth nearly hung open at his words.

You’d barely said a word to him and he was coming at you with a disgustingly brash and assertive attitude. What the hell was his deal?

“Okay...” The word was drawn-out as it fell from your lips in annoyance.

“Well, it’s kind of funny, because this is probably the fifth time I’ve been here, and none of your guys seem to give a rats ass, so how about you let me do my job and I’ll let you do yours.” 

Finally, you had gotten past the stranger’s criminally good looks and stuck to your guns.

There was no way in hell you were going to let him reprimand you for doing your job. Afterall, you had every right to be here. 

“Yeah well, my guys will let you do whatever you want when you’re prancin’ around here in tight little dresses and high heels. You think they’re just bein’ nice for the hell of it?” 

His irritation was masked by amusement as he looked you up and down, dramatically raking his eyes over your body. 

“I don’t know who you think you are, but I’d really appreciate it if you could just drop the attitude and keep things professional.” The quality of your voice was stern, juxtaposing the way his eyes on your body had you suddenly feeling a rush of heat throughout your chest.

Anger.

The warmth was an angry fervor, definitely not one of lust or temptation. It was a burning irritation for the man standing in front of you, not a curious warmth for how his eyes clung to every curve of your body, taking his time drinking in any exposed skin.

His smile widened as he watched you falter under his stare. “I’ll drop my attitude when you drop yours sweetheart.”

“Listen, Mr-“

“Miller. Joel Miller.”

“Okay, Mr. Joel Miller. I have work to do, so I’m just going to walk past you, take a few notes and I’ll be out of your hair. Deal?” 

“Fine. But if I see you back here again you better be wearin’ a hard hat. Don’t need any trouble because you trip and hit your pretty little head.” He let his eyes wander down your body once more, his voice full of sarcasm.

“Yeah yeah, got it boss.” You scoffed as you pushed past his broad frame. You didn’t turn to look back, but you could practically feel his eyes burning into you as you swayed into the entry way, hoping it was the last time you’d ever have to speak to him.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t.

You ran into Joel a few more times, each meeting more infuriating and demeaning than the last. He always had a smart comment on his tongue or a mocking intention in his voice. 

Joel Miller had quickly become the bane of your existence; yet, for some reason there was a part of you, deep down, that always hoped to run into him when you went to scout out a new project for the house.   

Maybe because he was undeniably handsome, always walking around with a charming smirk on his lips and a devious glint in his big brown eyes. It was almost as if he were challenging you— seeing how far he could push you before you snapped. 

He continued to test your patience as you now stood in the giant walk-in closet off the primary bedroom.

You were trying to establish a color scheme sophisticated enough to fit Miss Johnson’s impossible to please pallet while Joel was making unnecessarily loud noises across the room.

He was far from graceful, the slamming and pounding of tools was all you could hear as he worked on one of the many intricate shoe shelves on the wall.

“I thought this side of the house was done.” You were speaking without looking in his direction, your eyes following the paint swatches on the wall. 

“Was.” Joel’s voice was gruff as he continued working.

“Until the queen decided she needed more storage for all her designer shit.” He was chuckling at his own words, side eyeing you from his spot kneeling on the floor. 

“You are genuinely the most unprofessional person I’ve ever met.” You dismissed his rude comment about the woman you were both employed by.

“That right?”

You refused to look at him, but you could hear the delight in his voice. 

“Absolutely.” Your response was curt, a quick and straight-forward delivery.

“Good.”

As if you couldn’t hate him more, the word leaving his lips had you turning your head sharply in his direction, an appalled expression plastered across your face. 

“God you get on my last nerve.”

“That right?” Again, his lips tugged into a smirk as he looked at you. 

You raised your brows in annoyance with a single nod of your head at his question.

“Good.” His voice was taunting as he watched you shake your head in frustration. 

You brought your eyes back to the wall in front of you, not giving Joel another second of your attention.

After a few seconds of silence his deep voice broke into the room. “You know, if you weren’t so uptight, maybe I’d ask you out for a drink sometime.” 

It took you a minute to register his words. Was he implying that he wanted to ask you on a date while insulting you at the same time? What a fucked-up, backhanded compliment; one that had your chest stirring with warmth.

“Well, I guess it’s too bad I’m such an high-strung bitch then.” Sarcasm dripped from your words as you kept your eyes trained ahead, your head spinning from Joel’s implicit interest. 

“I doubt you’d last one minute in the bar I’d take you to anyway.”

His comment had your head snapping back again. This time his eyes were already on you, waiting to see a reaction. 

“And why’s that?” Your voice cut through the room at his assumption. 

“Because it’s not exactly a five star establishment, and I think you’re just like all these pretentious fucks you work for.” He raised an eyebrow at you before turning back to the shelf in front of him, tending to a few finishing touches. 

“Always so put together, walking around here with your shoulders high.” He was nonchalant as he criticized you, hands busy taking measurements, not even paying an ounce of attention to the dirty look you were currently shooting at him from the other side of the room. 

“You think you’re better than everyone, but you’re just another pretty face with an overblown ego.”

There it was. The final blow that had your body tensing with anger.

You couldn’t believe that just a few seconds ago you were letting him flatter you, swooning under the smallest inkling of positivity he threw your way.

He was the worst kind of guy, the kind that built you up just to tear you down. The kind that wanted to make you feel worse about yourself so you would go running to him for a semblance of positive reinforcement.

Joel Miller liked the chase— thrived off being such a douchebag that women somehow ended up falling on their knees for him. But you, you weren’t going to be that woman. 

“Me? Talk about a massive-fucking-ego, take a look in the mirror Miller. You’re the one always making sure I know my place around here, acting like a fucking sociopath. It’s like you get off on being an asshole.”

He stopped what he was doing and looked directly at you, his expression unreadable, like your cruel words caused a switch in him to flip. 

“Maybe I do.”

“What?”

“Maybe I like gettin’ under your skin, watchin’ you get all flustered.” He spoke slowly, setting down his materials and standing to his feet.

“Think it’s kinda cute. You’re always tryin’ to act all big and bad, but I know I make you nervous. I can see it in the way you look at me.” He didn’t move, the smirk on his face causing your eyebrows to furrow in irritation. 

You crossed your arms over your chest, standing strong on your opinion that Joel was the world’s biggest asshole. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of letting his words get to you.

“You can stop wherever you’re going with this. I’m not here to play your little bullshit games, I’m here to do a job and get paid.”

“Who says you can’t have a little fun on the job?” His voice was laced with a deep seriousness as he set his tools down on one of the many shelves adorning the walls. You watched him over your shoulder but kept your back turned, your body still facing the wall.

“Turn around.” The command left his lips and you wanted to laugh at his attempt of authority but the sincerity in his voice stopped you in your tracks. 

“What? No-“

“C’mon sweetheart, I think we both know you like bein’ told what to do.” His voice cut you off, the signature smirk on his lips sending a buzz straight to your head.

You didn’t mean to, or maybe you did, but your body turned to face him, watching intently as he continued speaking. His broad frame emphatic as he stood across from you.

“I bet you like it, having someone boss you around. Makes you feel a little inferior.”

As the words left his lips he began walking toward you.

It was a casual stroll, not intense or threatening, yet you felt your pulse racing and your posture slumping at his advances.

“Oh please. You need a reality check Joel.” 

“Wanna give it to me princess?”

You kept the appearance of control as he continued moving forward, but internally you were fighting feelings of complete disarray.

You wanted to be offended— maybe even slap him across the face for his wildly inappropriate nickname and the implication of his words. But instead, you froze, his body now less than a foot away from yours and his words ringing in your ears. 

There was absolutely no denying the way his statement had your thighs clenching and your head spinning. Something in his delivery, smug and dirty with his eyes holding a perverted hunger and a promise of follow through, made you weak.

You kept your body from jolting when you felt the touch of his hand wrapping around your waist, finding purchase dangerously low on your back. 

“Bet you’ve never done anythin’ like this.” His voice was sturdy— rigid with power.

The weight of his hand was rough, his palm resting just above the curve of your ass. His touch was heavy yet temperate as he held you, softly pulling you’re your body further into his. 

“Lettin’ some guy you barely know put his hands all over you.”

You watched his eyes carefully, your lips parted but you couldn’t find any words to fill them. You weren’t sure if you wanted to tell him to stop or keep going. 

“Bet all the guys you hook up with are just as prim and proper as you. Can’t imagine that those dipshits graduating from UT with a business degree are fuckin’ you the right way.”

His other hand came to the small of your waist, the movement sending a faint gasp straight to your lips. Your reaction had Joel smirking, reinforcing his grip on your body.

“Probably don’t even know how to get you off.” 

“You’re disgusting.” Your voice was a whisper. The insult that you meant to hurl his way dissolved in a pitiful sigh at the way his fingertips were latching onto you.

“Am I? Bet you like that too.” This time he leaned in, causing his words to land directly in your ear, his breath warm on your neck.  

“Bet you want someone a little rough around the edges. Someone to fuck you real nice.” 

As he spoke, his fingers curled into your body. His grip on you constricting.

His frame pushed into yours, sending you shuffling backward until your back was met with the solid friction of the wall.

“Joel..” 

You were searching in your mind, trying to form an articulate sentence to explain why this was wrong; why you couldn’t be in this position with him.

But he had you trapped against the weight of his body— big and wide and rough.

Every single rational thought in your head dissipated, replaced by an instinctual need to have him fuck you against the wall of this ridiculously expensive closet.

He was right, you’d never done anything like this and the excitement of it— the risk, had your entire body burning with white-hot desire. 

“Tell me to stop and I will.” His hands were holding your hips, pressing you into the wall with his chest dangerously close to yours. 

“But I don’t think you want me to.” For a single second you could see an indication of honesty in his eyes as he looked you over, searching for any sign of distress on your face. And when he couldn’t find it, his stare narrowed and his hands held tighter, rotating your body in his grasp until your chest was pressed against the wall. 

“I think,” He leaned into you, your ass pushing against the bulge in his jeans as his hum landed on the skin right beneath your ear. 

“You want me to lift up this pretty little dress and fuck you nice and hard right here, against this wall.”

His hands found the hem of your dress, bringing it up just enough to bunch at your waist.

Your lower half was almost bare, the only clothing keeping your cunt from being fully exposed to him was the little black thong encasing the dripping mess that had now built up between your legs. It didn’t stop him from reaching between your bodies, pressing his thumb against your clothed entrance. 

“Fuck- you’re soaked princess.” The first word was a prolonged throaty groan, the rest of the sentence fumbling behind it. 

“How long you been thinkin’ bout this huh? Me touchin’ you, makin’ you beg for it.” He was having too much fun playing with you through your panties, his thumb threatening to dip into you even with the lace still covering your entrance.

He pushed against it, moving between your clothed folds and marveling at the wetness seeping through the material. 

“I’m not begging.” You managed to hiss out a response, turning your head to peer at him, your cheek nearly pressing against the wall. 

“Oh, so she’s always mouthy huh?” 

You watched the diabolical grin eat away at his face from the power trip of having you trapped under his weight.

You could talk-back all you wanted— be as bratty and uncooperative as possible, but it didn’t change the fact that he had you right where he wanted you. 

“Keep talkin’ baby, go on.” He innocently raised his brows at you, his voice taunting as the weight of his thumb danced between your legs.

“I Know you want this too. You act like you can’t stand me, but I see the way you look at me…” Your voice was quiet but strong as you held onto the last bit of composure you had left, using it to defy the man at your back.

You were trying your best not to lose your train of thought as you spoke. You wouldn’t give up the fight that easily, succumbing to his tempting words and lewd touches. You could tell Joel was used to getting his way and every muscle in your body ached to challenge him. 

“The way your eyes are glued to my ass every time I walk past you.” You glared over your shoulder as the words drifted off your lips in a gentle accusation. 

His dark chuckle filled the room as his eyes darted away from yours for a short second. Then his stare was back on you— more intense than before. The two of you watching each other, sitting in a pool of mutual revelation. 

You both knew it.

You knew since day one that there was a shared attraction, an unspoken sexual tension hidden behind rude words and unsavory exchanges.

What was happening now was just a detonation of built-up pressure that had been stewing for weeks; evident in the wetness at your core and the bulge in Joel’s jeans. 

“Anythin’ else you wanna say? Should probably get it all out before I have you all fucked-out on my cock.” His voice dropped to a low whisper as he hooked his thumb into your underwear, pulling the material to the side, not even bothering to take them off completely. 

A soft gasp slid from your lips at the cool air meeting your newly exposed center, the slick pooling at your entrance only adding to the airy sensation. 

“You’re so fucking arrogant.” 

The words barely left your lips when you felt his touch meet your core, his fingers spreading your arousal.

You had more to say to him, you wanted to tell him how annoying he was and how you had lost every ounce of decency by letting him talk to you this way, but the words were caught in your throat as he pushed two fingers into you. 

“Maybe I have good reason to be.” 

Your eyes were squeezed shut at the unexpected feeling of him filling you with his fingers, yet you could hear the smirk dripping in his voice.

“You ever think about that sweetheart?”

His words were impatient, the initial drive of his fingers into your entrance was rough, but now they slowly worked into you. His movements were careful— cautious even.

It was as if he wanted to take his time, watching your body and listening to the shaky breaths leave your lips.

His hand worked between your legs, searching for the exact technique that would send you spewing profanities and crumbling against the wall.  

He curled his fingertips at just the right spot, not too deep and not too forceful, just a gentle pulse that had an impulsive whimper pouring from your chest.

“Maybe I’m so arrogant because I know I’m good at what I do.” His words held a double meaning as he added a third finger to stroke your newfound sweet spot.

You almost yelped from the stretch, but you held it back as best you could, refusing to give him the gratification of your submission. 

The position he had you in; back arched and ass pushed out, made it almost embarrassingly easy for the addition of a third digit as he watched them to sink into you.

You couldn’t help but hum in approval as he stroked you repeatedly, rubbing against the inviting drawl of your walls. You tried not to lose yourself at his fingertips, knowing from the familiar coil of pleasure in your core that he could have you coming on his fingers at any given moment. 

“Thought you were gonna fuck me, huh?” Your voice was a string of moans as you tried your best to form a coherent sentence with his hand pushed between your bodies. 

As much as you didn’t want his movements to stop, you also didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of making you finish when he’d barely even gotten his hands on you.

Knowing Joel, he would never let you live it down. He’d ride around on his metaphorical high horse and crown himself the king of female orgasms. So instead of letting him bring you to the precipice of release, you met him with a phrase of defiance. But your challenging words were really just a gateway to get what you wanted. You could put on a tough act, but at the end of the day Joel was right, you did want him to fuck you in way no one ever had— hungry and hard against the wall, right here in your client’s house.

In fact, the thought of it had taken over every fiber of your being. The anticipation of feeling him rail into you was clouding your judgement and coursing through your veins at an alarming speed. 

“Think you can take it?” His growl stuck in your ears as he pulled out of you. The lewd noises of his fingers plunging into the slick mess at your folds was quickly replaced by the sound of him fumbling with his belt buckle. 

“How d’you want it, huh baby? You the sentimental type? Want it nice and slow and deep? Or d’you just wanna be ruined? Want someone to be a little rough with ya?” He was asking, but you couldn’t help but note the rhetorical quality of his words as you heard the rustle of his jeans pushing down his thighs. 

“That’s sweet of you to give me choice, maybe you don’t like control as much as I thought- “

Your sarcastic remark was cut short at the abrupt stretch of Joel’s length slamming into you.

“Rough it is then.” His voice was a deep grunt echoing from behind you as he paused, giving you a split second to adjust before pulling back out and thrusting into you again. 

“Shit princess, didn’t think you’d be this fuckin’ tight.”

His voice swam with amusement and pleasure as he watched the way his dick fully disappeared into you with each thrust of his hips.

Hands pulled at your waist as you felt Joel drive deeper with every breathless groan floating off his lips. 

“Look at you, takin’ me like such a good girl.” The words weren’t sweet, instead they teased you, shooting out of his mouth with a mocking tenor. 

You couldn’t keep your body from reacting to his praise, albeit contemptuous, the words still held a deep truth about the situation unfolding against the wall of your shared employer’s closet. 

“Oh, you like that don’t ya? When I tell you what a good girl you are?” His voice was a broken growl of grunts and sighs as he fucked into you— vigorous and desperate.

His pace was unrelenting as he held onto your waist, pulling you back to meet him with every drive of his hips into yours. 

He let one of his hands travel up your body until he was reaching for your jaw, tilting your head up and back until your body was arched at a sinful angle.

“See, I knew you just needed a good fuck.” His groan was right in your ear now that he held your head close to his, the grip he had on your jaw was firm.

It was becoming impossible for you to keep quiet, the strength and depth of his thrusts were causing explicit moans to skate past yours lips.

The hand that Joel was using to hold your face was now maneuvering to your mouth in an effort to muffle the obscene sounds rolling off your tongue. Two of his fingers pushed at your lips, hooking into your mouth. 

“Knew that little attitude a’yours was all for show.”

You closed your lips around his digits as he railed into you, a guttural moan sliding up your throat and humming onto his fingers. 

“Fuck.” His fowl groan was a direct result of your soft mouth sucking around his fingers, mimicking the way you had his cock encased between your legs.

You invited his touch onto your tongue, swirling around his thick digits and sucking him in deeper, earning a prolonged sigh from Joel as he fucked into you even harder.

Each stroke of his cock had your body pressing further into the wall— his pace was mean and unyielding, like he had something to prove. 

With the hand not in your mouth, Joel reached around your body, his fingertips finding your clit and rubbing quick careless circles over the bundle of nerves.

Your body faltered under his touch, your knees slightly buckling, and if it weren’t for the weight of his body trapping you against the wall, you’d be a puddle on the floor. 

He slowed his pace slightly, taking his time to find that spot along your walls again. The one that he discovered just minutes ago when he was three fingers deep in your dripping cunt. 

Whines of approval vibrated against the pads of his fingertips still pressing down on your tongue. His hips began rocking into you at just the right angle— slow and deliberate, with the goal of feeling you coming undone on his cock. 

“That it baby? Right there?” Again, his words were a sadistic tease, but his voice gave way to pitiful throaty whines.

You couldn’t speak, couldn’t even think with the way he was working you toward your release.

Everything felt so overwhelming, his unrelenting thrusts hitting you in the perfect place, his touch on your clit, rough and impatient and his fingers filling your mouth— all of it creating the perfect storm of inconceivable pleasure. 

A jolt of relief surged through your body as the pressure inside you snapped. You let yourself fall further into the wall as Joel’s name slipped from your mouth in a chant.

Hearing his name on your lips in such a distant and dazed voice, had Joel’s cock pulsing. Your walls were clenching from your climax, sucking him in deeper and he couldn’t handle the abundance of warmth enveloping him. 

Both of his hands came down to your hips, fingers digging into your skin as held tight.

His thrusts were merciless as he used you to reach his peak, chasing the familiar buildup of tension in his core as he drove into you at a startling pace. 

Then he pulled out abruptly. 

One hand on his cock, stroking just twice before spilling onto the skin of your lower back, the other pushing your dress further up your body to keep it from becoming a jizz painted mess. 

Silence filled the room.

Neither of you spoke as your hands pushed against the wall underneath your palms. You stayed pressed there, Joel’s body still behind you evident in the ragged breaths leaving his chest. 

Still no words were exchanged as you felt Joel take a step back, the warmth of his presence fading just slightly.

You dared to break your pleasure induced trance to look over your shoulder, only find him pulling his jeans back up his body and tightening his belt without even sparing you a glance.

You began to move until you were reminded of the thick warm mess resting on your back, keeping you from pulling your dress down.

Before you could do anything, Joel was back behind you, hooking his fingers into the waist band of your panties and tugging them down your legs. He stopped at your ankles to tap against your skin, prompting you to step out of them.

Once the lacy material was fully in his grasp, he brought them up to your lower back, using them to gather his spend. He cleaned his mess with the lacy material then pulled your dress back down to cover your lower half. A sticky residue was left on your backside as a plaguing reminder of what had just transpired between you. 

You turned to face him, watching as he crumpled up your ruined underwear and shoved it into his back pocket with a smirk on his face. 

“How about that drink? Could meet you tomorrow night, should be done here around five.” He was back across the room in an instant, gathering tools and not bothering to look in your direction.

His invitation was genuine, but his words lacked interest. 

“I’ll get these back to you then.” His hand came to rest on his back pocket, fingers tapping against the denim holding your used panties.

A self-righteous smile sat on his face as he shot you a look of pure deviance before his eyes were back on his hands as they worked to gather his materials. 

“Yeah, okay.” Your voice came out more flustered than you intended as you smoothed out your dress over your thighs.

Joel was heading for the closet door, tool bag clutched in his hand as he gave you one last gaze of victory.

“It’s a date.” The words were a grumble from his lips, the same ones that were busy parading a smug smile. 

Then he left you standing alone in the small room, your mind racing around itself and your legs still trembling.

A subtle grin rested on your face as you stared down at the floor, trying to find some sort of equilibrium before even attempting to move.

The giant walk-in closet still encasing a lingering heat of reckless choices as you prepared to go on with your day— business as usual.

my masterlist

[delusionsofgrandeur13]

running circles ‘round each other

a valentines weekend event fic!

wally west x reader: you and the cutest (and fastest) guy on your track team get trapped in the supply shed together.. and trouble ensues.

content level: 18+. NSFW.

“west! get over here!” wally west heads in the coach’s direction, apologizing as he brushes past someone on your team. practice is over, and you’re gulping down your water before you change into your slides. you watch as coach talks to him, pointing towards the equipment on the track and then the storage shed. wally starts off, and coach yells after him:

“and bring a friend!”

coach has to leave early, is what you’re told, and he trusts wally with the shed key..apparently. you’re not sure why you’re the one that wally chooses to help. the two of you have been on the same track team, at the same college for almost three years, and yet? never really talked. well, okay. you talked sometimes. but still. not like you’d call him a friend or anything. that was fine by you. he seemed a little too overconfident for your liking. 

“coach must think i’m so weak, like i can’t carry these by myself.” he sighs, putting on a face as you look up.  you let out a snort, and his eyes light up when he realized he got you to laugh. the padded mats slap together as you drop the one you’re carrying, and you brush your hands off. you eye his biceps. for a runner, his upper body is equally as impressive as the blur he calls legs. 

“it’s probably good for you, anyways.” you say, giving him a look. wally straightens, looking mock offended. 

“what, you don’t like how fast i am?” his lips stretch into a grin, and you can’t help but wonder how you haven’t noticed that dimple before. 

“maybe if you weren’t so full of yourself.” it falls out of your mouth before you can catch it, but you cross your arms, acting like you meant it. (even if your heart rate did just kick up) 

“you wish you were full of me!” wally shoots back, then putting his hands up when he realizes what he said. “that..did not come out right.” 

your cheeks feel so hot, because of course now you’re thinking about it. wally notices, and the look on his face makes you just want to keel over and die. 

“what? did you like that, or something?” he says, his voice low. 

“i—what? shut up, wally. i did not—,” you sigh, sitting down on the stack of folded mats you’d been putting away. 

“you don’t like that i have a fast mouth too, huh?” he says, stepping closer. freckled constellations paint his arms and legs, his facial features only enhanced by the ones dancing across his cheekbones, over the bridge of his nose. 

“god, didn’t anyone ever tell you you talk too much?” you lean back on your hands, hoping he’ll leave it alone. you’re not sure what he’s going to find if he keeps prodding like this.

“i could say the same to you.” the mat squishes as he sits next to you, the smell of his deodorant mixed with a deep musk underneath—you’re unable to place it— that goes right into that warm place between your thighs. oh, lord. “but you see,” he continues, “i actually don’t get to talk that much because i’m too busy being the fastest one on the team.” his legs spread as he gets comfortable, his already short shorts riding up his toned thighs. you wonder where else he has freckles. 

you pointedly roll your eyes, and you swear his smile gets wider. “you’re so pretty when you’re pissed off at me.” 

you can’t believe what you’re hearing right now. there’s no way that your ears are relaying the correct information to your brain. just no way. you just shake your head at him, and he chuckles under his breath before continuing. 

“..i want to let you in on a secret, if you’re down.” he leans in, the warmth of his presence suddenly very obvious to you, his shock of red hair hanging into his eyes. you nod slowly, one eyebrow raised. 

“there’s something i’m even faster at.” he whispers, actually whispers, to you. it feels like you’re the only two people in the world, no, like you’re in a different universe entirely: one containing just you and wally. you roll your eyes again, huffing out a sigh.

“sure, wally.” you say, leaning back onto your elbows. 

“my fastest track record isn’t the 400 meter dash,” he starts, and against your better judgment, you’re hanging onto every word. “it’s that i’m able to make anyone come in two minutes or under.” 

at your shock from registering the sentence that just came out of his mouth, he grins, unphased.

“guaranteed or your money back.” 

“..right.” you close your mouth, which had been hanging open. “i don’t believe you.” 

he gasps, a hand on his chest. you giggle despite yourself, and the tension pops like a bubble. 

wally latches onto that, lips curling. “you wanna let me prove you wrong?” his words are teasing, but his face is serious, so serious, and you know if you refused he’d never speak of it again. he’s half joking anyways, barely expecting it when you say, “bet.”

“this okay?” he asks, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. you nod, staring deep into his green eyes. they close as he leans in, and you follow, your hands instinctively going to the back of the neck. a soft moan slips from his mouth as you tug at the hair at the nape of his neck, and you pull him closer, darting your tongue across his bottom lip. his lips are so soft, so warm, and it’s really not long at all before you feel slick between your legs, the area burning hot. 

“wally,” you plead, annoyed at how pathetic you sound. you don’t even know if what he said was true yet, and you don’t even care. you just need something, anything. he rolls you onto your back, pausing to adjust himself. the need for him burns brighter, the pulse between your legs almost unbearable. 

“all good?” he says, leaning back. 

“mm-hmm,” you reply, nodding firmly. and it’s like you blink and your track shorts and underwear are pooled around your ankles. 

wally hums appreciatively, and your face burns, you feel so exposed. 

“pretty, just like the rest of you.” 

he takes to your mouth again, giving you a second to relax before his hand starts tracing circles up your thigh. you shiver, tugging at his shirt, and he’s losing self-control by the minute. he sets your watch, showing you the timer.

“start the clock.” he growls into your ear, and you shiver, your legs falling farther apart without you even telling them to. you press the button on the side: 1:59,1:58.. 

he swipes his thumb across your clit, watching you jerk at the sensation. gathering your moisture with his middle and ring fingers, he slides them through your folds, slowly pushing them into you. his thumb starts circling your clit, changing the rhythm as he gauges your reaction. his fingers are fully inside of you, and he starts curling them, matching rhythm with his thumb. the pace speeds up, and you know he wasn’t lying. his fingers feel so fast, like something you’d want to hide in your nightstand drawer to pull out on a lonely night. 

“you can’t even deny, it, i can feel how much you like this, baby.” wally rasps into your ear, sending heat into your belly. your pussy clenches around his fingers inside of you, his pace unrelenting as his thumb works at your clit. you hold your breath, feeling it starting. 

the tension builds, builds, builds—

and then it snaps, and you’re done for. you moan into his shoulder, clutching at his shirt. wally wishes it was off, that he could feel your nails scraping into his back. it feels like your orgasm is never going to end, the way it’s hitting your body over and over again. your toes curl in your sneakers as he keeps up his pace. you can’t even control the noises you’re making, and you just don’t care. somewhere in all of it you can hear your watch beeping, and wally chuckles knowingly. pleasure racks your body, your spine pulled taut as you come around wally’s fingers. he slows, and you sigh happily as he kisses you tenderly on the cheek. 

“best bet you’ve ever made, huh?

he sticks his wet digits into his mouth, a smile forming on his lips as he closes his eyes like he’s savoring something. he helps you pull your shorts back up, and smoothes the back of your hair down, winking. “lookin’ good,” he starts, readjusting himself in his shorts again. so nonchalant, but his body’s talking just as much as yours was.“we should do this more often.”

“yeah, whatever, can it just not be in the equipment shed next time?” 

“so what i’m hearing is you’re not saying no.” he replies, a glint in his eye. “what you will be hearing is ‘shut up, wally’” you say, whipping around to look at him. 

he sighs dreamily. “like music to my ears.”

the two of you make sure the rest of the equipment is put away, your coach and team long gone by now. you’re back in the shed, sliding a hurdle into place with a clack as wally walks up with another one,  setting it next to yours. 

“good thing we didn’t put money on it, huh?” his shit-eating grin sends your hand flying at his arm, and he reacts like you broke it. “shit, dude! you can pack a punch!” 

“oh, whatever, wally. you’re doing that thing again.” he turns to look at you, his head tilting to the side like he’s confused. “where you talk too damn much.” 

he barks out a laugh, putting an arm around your waist. 

“i think you’re scared to admit you like it,” he says, his voice low as he leans over you, his lips dangerously close to yours. have you stopped breathing? he gauges your reaction, instead giving you a quick peck on the cheek before he walks off, chuckling to himself. you follow him, mumbling about how he’s a tease and a jerk. he hits the lights, letting you out before he shuts the door behind him, locking it. 

“but seriously,” he continues, swinging the key on its lanyard. “i might need a cast.” 

“we forgot to do our cool-down stretches.” you bump your shoulder with his as you walk out of the stadium, feeling oddly lighter. laughing, he turns to look at you, but there’s an intensity in his eyes. he opens his mouth to ask you:

“okay.. fuck, marry, kill: superman, batman, wonder woman. go!” 

post divider courtesy of: @enchanthings-a

[soobkwann]

TEACH ME (TEASER) ||~ Lee Jeno ✮⋆˙

Synopsis: When your dumb boyfriend cheats on you and mocks your oral- abilities, who else could you call for help other than your childhood best friend?

NOTES: NSFW, Childhoodbsf!JENO x fem!reader, slight angst, “cheating back”. Not fully proofread

[More warnings once full post is released]

WC: 1k || FULL RELEASE DATE: June 2

A/N: guy I actually love how the full thing came out omgg I can’t wait for you guys to read it 👅👅 Thank you Mal for reading over this!! ( @sungchoi )

Jeno has always hated your boyfriend. There was nothing genuinely wrong with the guy, Jeno just didn’t trust him. He thought you’d look much better with someone else, much better with him.

So when you called him in tears saying you ‘caught him out with some random blonde’, he couldn’t help proud that his instincts of the guy were correct. But ultimately he needed to put his pride to the side and comfort his friend.

“I’ll be there in five” he states. You sniffle an “Ok” and end the call, desperate for a second pair of eye to give you ideas on how to confront your cheating ‘boyfriend’.

—

Jeno made it to you as fast as he could without violating any traffic laws. He opened the door to your apartment with the spare key you gave him that your boyfriend was always jealous of, you kept trying to tell him that it didn’t mean anything and that Jeno can only use it for emergencies (and when you’re crying over him), but he kept being dramatic saying “friend’s don’t do that”. How would he know? He barely has friends, let alone ones that have been beside him since childhood.

Jeno walked through the apartment he knows all too well and headed to your bedroom. The door was cracked slightly open but he could your cries as clear as day. As he slowly opens the door he sees you hunched over on the edge of the bed, head in your hands as you cry tears of heartbreak.

“Y/N,” he says quietly, in the same soft tone all this friends claim he only uses with you. “Y/N, I’m here.” He states, walking over slowly trying not to overwhelm you.

Your tears pause as you look up and make eye contact with him, Jeno feels his own heart breaking at the sight of you; bloodshot eyes, fresh tears still streaming down your face, you look like a girl who gave her all in a relationship only to get betrayed.

“Hi,” you say weakly, chuckling slightly. You probably look pathetic in front of him. Jeno didn’t mind, he’s seen you at your highest and lowest, you’re still the prettiest girl he’s laid eyes on either way.

You scoot over as a cue for him to sit beside you, instantly he takes the hint and rushes to sit, wrapping his arms around you in comfort.

You return the hug immediately and rest your head on the side of his neck. Jeno breathes in your scent and gets a whiff of- wait- his cologne? He pulls back and takes a full look at you, you’re wearing his hoodie. Huh, no wonder your “boyfriend” hated his guts.

Jeno takes your face in his palm and stares at you like you’ve placed the stars in the sky. Remembering what he came here for he straightens up and asks firmly,

“You want me to kill that guy?” he sounds dead serious too.

You look at him with a dopey smile and sigh. “No,” you start. “I just want you to be here with me.”

Jeno looks as if he’s genuinely pondering your request, “I guess I can do that,” He teases” giving you a soft smile that makes your tummy flutter with butterflies.

“If you need anything, I’m your guy.” He states. Jeno always makes it known you can trust him to handle anything you throw at him. Out of shyness you’ve always tried to not bother him too much, especially since everyone claims you depend on him more than you do your “boyfriend”, but maybe today is the day you abuse your power.

There’s no doubt Jeno is an attractive guy. You’ve been to parties with him countless times and seen him walk out with minimum two girls on his arm. He’s gotta be experienced, right?

You on the other hand have only been with your current boyfriend. It was already embarrassing enough you’d been a virgin at the ripe age of 24, but your boyfriend shaming your sexual performance right after your first time made you even more ashamed.

—

“How’d I do?” You asked nervously, you’d never given a blowjob before. Talking about it, yes. But giving it was a whole different ballgame, especially since your boyfriend barely gave you anything to work with….

“I’ve had better,” He states plainly. Getting off the bed to go play the game, leaving you embarrassed and frustrated on the bed.

—

You visibly cringe at the flashback, and Jeno catches it. “You okay?” he asks with genuine concern.

You realize what happened and just stare at him for a bit, examining him. He’s so built. He showed up in a black hoodie but his broad shoulders are still prominent, his big hands that constantly have veins protruding from them, such a pretty face with a nice nose you just wanna-

“Y/N,” He interrupts once more. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

You look at him and feel your cheeks warming up as you process the question you deeply wanna propose to him.

“I actually do have,” you simmer, “something to ask you.. and it’s okay if you say no.”

Jeno looks confused, why are you afraid to ask for a favor? He’s been to the store to buy you tampons many times, and even went through your underwear drawer to bring you a new pair you forgot to get before your shower. What’s the matter now?!

You look away embarrassed at his reaction, already overthinking before even asking the question. Jeno is growing impatient at this point.

“What do you need, Y/N.” he quipped “I told you I’m willing to do whatever you need.” He reassured.

Y/N sucked a deep breath and decided to just rip the bandage off.

Fuck it, you thought

“Can you show me how to give a blowjob?..” She says barely above a whisper.

Oh.

Jeno wasn’t expecting that. He did say he’d help with anything though.

[baocean]

piss off your parents

chapter twenty two - baby, if your love is in trouble

her phone

you wanted your mom. even after all the bad things she's said to you these past couple weeks, you just wanted to tell her everything. let her tell you it'll be okay.

so, you tip toed down the stairs until you found her standing over the sink in the kitchen.

"momma." you barely spoke above a whisper, standing at the edge of the counter in the dimly lit room.

she looked up from the dishes, giving you a soft smile. "you okay?"

you started to nod your head, then sighed and shrugged. she let out a deep breath and tilted her lips up, reassuring you.

"things with jj are...complicated right now."

just like that, her whole face changed, shoulders stiff, jaw tight, her hands stilling in the sink.

“yn.” her voice was low, warning. “don’t.”

you swallowed. “i’m not trying to start anything. i just...i needed to talk.”

“and he’s who you want to talk about?” your mom shook her head, voice rising. “i thought we raised you better than this. you’ve got college coming up, real plans, a future. what are you doing getting mixed up with someone like him?”

“he’s not—” you paused, biting the inside of your cheek. “you don’t know him.”

“i know enough,” your mom cut in sharply. “he’s been in and out of trouble since he was a kid. that’s not someone you build a life with, bunny, that’s someone who wrecks it.”

your chest tightened. “i didn’t come in here to fight with you.”

“then what are we doing here? because it sounds like your mind’s already made up.”

you hesitated. she stepped back like she’d been slapped. “unbelievable.”

“it’s not like that,” you say quickly. “it’s...complicated.” there's that word again. complicated. frayed at the edges.

“oh, i’m sure it is,” her tone was harsh, mocking. “and what do you want me to say? congratulations? i hope he doesn’t screw up your life too bad?”

“i just... i think i like him more than i expected to,” you admitted, barely above a whisper.

“well, i expected more from you,” your mom fired back. “and i hope, for your sake, he’s not just using you the way boys like him always do.”

you stood frozen in the doorway, blinking back the sting in her eyes.

“you think he’s something special now,” your mom snapped, “but give it time. boys like him always leave, usually right after they’ve done the damage.”

you went to say something, but let your mouth hang open for a moment like an idiot. you looked down, then turned and all but ran out of the kitchen and straight out the front door, grabbing your keys on your way.

her phone

you didn’t even get out a hello.

“you on your way?” he asked the second you picked up his call. his voice was low, steady, grounding.

“i’m ten minutes away.” you sighed into the car.

“just, uh, hurry okay? i know you hate this kind of rain.” he was talking so quietly you could barely hear him over the rain pelting against your car.

of course it was raining. stupid outer banks and it's stupid summer storms.

you gave a small smile, even though he couldn’t see it. “you remember that?”

“course i do.”

there was a short pause, then his voice softened. “you wanna about know the first time i saw you?”

you blinked. “what?”

“just humor me.”

“…okay.”

“it was at the gas station., off the highway.”

you blinked again. “seriously?”

"yea, i was inside grabbing shit and i turned down the isle and...there you were, holding a slurpee cup probably the size of your head."

you made a face, already half-laughing. “what flavor?”

“all of them,” he said immediately. “you did that psychotic thing where you mix every single one.”

you groaned. “oh my god.”

“no, wait, it gets better. you took one sip, made a face, and handed it to your friend like ‘nope, never mind.’ and then you went right back to make another one.”

you laughed, he continued. “i didn’t even know your name back then, but i couldn’t stop looking."

the words lingered, an unspoken meaning tucked somewhere between them, like he wasn’t just telling a memory. like it was something else entirely. a confession, wrapped in disguise. quiet. careful. real.

"i've just," he paused, "been thinking about that lately."

it was true. sure, he’d been telling you the story to keep your mind off the weather conditions, but he had been thinking about it. he remembers everything, down to the color of the beat up sambas you were wearing that day.

“and you remembered that?” you asked, stunned.

“yeah,” he said. “i mean…yeah.”

you pulled into his driveway right as he said it.

you didnt expect him to be sitting on his front steps, waiting for you, phone pressed to his ear as he watched your car shut off.

you barely made it to the bottom step before his arms were around you, pulling you close. the hug wasn’t rushed or forced, it was safe, strong, like he was trying to bind you to him. you could feel the tension in his shoulders, the way he held you tightly, like he was both relieved and desperate.

his cheek rested gently against your temple, and for a moment, everything was just the sound of his breath and the steady beating of his heart beneath your ear.

when you pulled away, you went to head up the steps, but he stopped you.

"were, uh, we arent going into the house." he gave you a nervous smile, almost like he's trying to hide the anxiety beneath it.

you gave him a confused look, one that made his eyes flicker up to the forehead line.

he shrugged his shoulders when his lips flattened into a line, then turned his head and gestured towards the twinkie.

"c'mon, ‘bout time i took you on a real date."

masterlist | next chapter

taglist - @murdockcastleslut /  @jjmaybankmylovee / @smokahontas-113 /  @abslvrs13 / @enchantedstarfish / @reeseswirl / @lmaowhatt / @moonywhisp3rs / @dylsdaily / @idli-dosa / @bloodofadoll / @cokewithcameron / @mariamadison6-blog / @rrosiitas / @always-reading / @sunflouer04 / @bambigirl10 / @mirellef2001 / @wasiasproject /  @bee-43 / @kissesandmartinis / @gublerstylesobrien1238 / @isinpfortvdmen / @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account / @mjwashere / @sideboobrry11 / @ameliacione13 / @wrtzia / @sanriobuny / @dramagodesss / @luvrclub / @yesshewrites1 / @ayy1234567 / @doesnt-care

[solxamber]

Maybe a request where reader had a potion class accident with grim and idia as partners for it, and turned into a cat for a temporary amount of time due to a mishap?

I just think it sounds like idia would 100% milk this for all its worth cuz an event has occurred involving cats...

and i think grim being around with reader and idia would infact add to the cat meter, sounds amusing to me at least

Stay safe have a good day your writin is great :]

Mishaps and Kitty Cats - Idia x reader

love this request, combined 2 of my favorite things- cats and idia

Potionology wasn’t exactly a class you thrived in, but how hard could it be? You just mix some ingredients together, follow the instructions (mostly), and hope Grim doesn’t knock something over. Easy enough, right?

That was your first mistake.

The second? Teaming up with Idia and Grim.

Idia, hunched over his tablet, was busy calculating potion probabilities or something nerdy, while Grim was... being Grim. Pawing at random ingredients, making snide comments, and generally being more of a hindrance than any helpful mascot should ever be.

“I’m telling ya, we don’t need all these fancy-schmancy ingredients!” Grim huffed, flicking his tail dismissively. “Just throw in some catnip and call it a day!”

Idia, not even bothering to look up, mumbled, “Uh, no. That’ll throw off the potion’s balance and potentially, like, destroy the entire lab. But, yeah, sure, go ahead. I’ll just be over here doing the actual calculations.”

"Catnip," you muttered, shooting Grim a sideways glance. "Right. Because that's the missing key to magical success."

Grim puffed out his chest, as if the sheer confidence would make up for his utter lack of sense. "You mock, but I know what's what."

You sighed. Maybe pairing with the guy obsessed with cats and the guy obsessed with numbers wasn’t the best move. “Idia, are you sure you’ve got this under control?”

“I’ve got this down to a 96.8% success rate,” Idia said, tapping away on his tablet with the fervor of someone far too invested in digital alchemy. “The probability of anything going wrong is, like, practically nonexistent.”

You peered into the cauldron. It was bubbling ominously, more like it was contemplating murder than mixing into a helpful potion. “And the other 3.2%?”

“Well... worst-case scenario, you might end up as a squirrel. Temporarily. Maybe.”

Before you could even process what he just said, Grim—bless his chaotic little heart—decided to tip over a vial of glowing green liquid into the cauldron. “Oops.”

There was a brief, deadly silence. Then a whoosh of bright smoke exploded from the cauldron, enveloping you, Grim, and Idia in a thick, magical fog.

Coughing, you blinked through the haze. Everything seemed bigger, or maybe you were smaller. And then you noticed Grim staring at you with wide eyes, mouth hanging open.

“What?” you asked—or, at least, you tried to ask. What came out instead was a small, pitiful meow.

Grim blinked. Twice. “Nya?!”

Idia finally looked up from his tablet, and when he saw you, a grin spread across his face so wide it looked like he had just won the rarest item drop of his life. "Oh. My. Gods."

You stared at him, then down at your—oh no. Oh no no no. You had fur. You had paws. Your tail lashed back and forth as panic began to settle in. "I’m a cat?!"

"This. Is. Amazing!" Idia was practically vibrating with excitement, not at all concerned about your current feline predicament. "This is like, peak event status. You turned into a cat! This is exactly like that one episode of 'Magical Meow-taku no Monogatari' where the protagonist gets cursed and—"

Grim cut in, his tone somewhere between horror and indignation. “Nyaaa, wait a minute! I’m supposed to be the only talking cat here! This is outrageous!” His fur bristled as he looked between you and Idia, clearly not enjoying this turn of events.

You tried to hiss at Grim, but all that came out was a squeaky mewl. Great. Even your protests were adorable.

Idia, meanwhile, was thoroughly enjoying himself. “Oh man, this is like, prime meme content. We need to document this! Hold on, I’m sending a message to the dorm chat.”

You swatted at his leg with a paw, trying to stop him, but your efforts were in vain. He was already furiously typing into his tablet.

“‘So, uh, our partner just turned into a cat lol. 10/10, would pet again.’ There, sent,” Idia said, looking way too pleased with himself. He looked down at you, his expression downright giddy. “You don’t even understand how happy this makes me. A real-life cat transformation! This is like, a rare gacha pull, but better. Because it’s you. As a cat.”

Grim groaned dramatically, throwing his paws up. “Unbelievable! I can’t believe this is happening! Now there’s two of you! This was supposed to be my thing!” He shot a glare your way. “You better fix this fast, or I’ll never live it down.”

You tried to roll your eyes—well, as much as a cat could roll their eyes—and sat down, tail flicking impatiently. You’d really like to be human again, thanks.

But Idia wasn’t done. Not by a long shot.

“You know,” he said, voice taking on a thoughtful tone, “I could, theoretically, keep you like this for a while. I mean, think of the content. We could have a whole cat-themed channel. Imagine it: ‘Cat Adventures with the Prefect and Grim!’ You could be a streaming sensation!”

Your wide-eyed, horrified stare was lost on him as he started muttering to himself about potential subscriber counts and fan art. Grim, meanwhile, was rapidly spiraling into a jealousy-fueled rage.

“No way! This can’t happen! I’m the mascot! Me! Not you!” Grim wailed, tugging at his own fur as if his dignity depended on it.

In the background, Idia was already searching for the best cat toys to order online.

This was going to be a long day.

Masterlist

[myung-jaes]

USED TO THIS ― lee anton

010. how do u swim on dry land

immediately upon pushing his front door open with the tip of his finger, anton screamed, the noise falling into tune with the squeaking of the hinges of his front door. his arms flailed everywhere, hitting the wall to find the light switch, while also working to shield his body from whatever weapon the entity in his apartment might have. 

“what the fuck, dude?” anton grasped his chest as the lights turned on in the room, his eyes adjusting to the brightness, immediately recognizing your figure sprawled across his couch, your chin resting on the velvet blue arm of the couch. “you’re insane.”

“what? spare key,” you waved the metal key in the air, the light reflecting off of it. you laughed at the terrified look on anton’s face, his brown eyes wide, pupils dilated, and his breathing uneven.

anton rolled his eyes, acknowledging the mocking tone in your voice, hints of you taking a jab to when he had entered your apartment the prior week using his spare key. “okay, well you could’ve told me, you know, give a little heads up?”

“you’re one to talk. you literally broke into my apartment last week without me knowing,” you taunted, raising yourself to sit straight on the couch. “plus, i tried texting you, but you didn’t respond. also, because we haven’t talked in a while, i bought you food and gundam to make up for it.”

shit. anton felt his face drop, you were catching on to his attempts of avoiding you, and still, you were the first one to try to break the distance. he felt his heart tug at the way you were ready to apologized, ready to take the blame, even if you didn’t know what it was— knowing that it wasn’t even your fault, it was on him for being stupid and making bigger efforts than he needed to in order to give you your space.

“you didn’t have to, i mean, it’s not like we’re not talking, right? we just talked a while ago.”

“anton, it’s tuesday, and the last time you actually talked to me was last wednesday. i feel like you’re just avoiding me, i mean, everytime i come to talk to you, you always walk away and act like you don’t see me. hell, you even stopped sitting next to me in humanities.”

shit. shit. shit.

watching anton just stand there in silence, unmoving to your previous words, you spoke again, your voice quieter than usual. “did i do something? i mean, were you lying that day when you went on your whole i can’t get mad at you spiel or what?”

“no, no, no.” anton shut his eyes briefly, bowing his head before taking slow strides to you, stopping right in front of the couch. “you didn’t do anything, and i wasn’t lying when i said that— i actually cannot fathom the thought of getting mad at you. i was just being stupid, it’s nothing.”

the words were sitting at the tip of his tongue, but anton couldn’t tell you the truth. he would never tell you the real reason why he was being distant in the first place. 

oh, the guys told me that i need to give you space so you can make progress with taeyoung, but i’m a dumbass and thought: oh! i should just ignore her.

he couldn’t say that, he would sound dumb, and it would probably only irritate you further to the point where you would go out of your way to push taeyoung away just to prove to anton that he didn’t need to do that. you always did that, you always made sure he wouldn’t be at any inconvenience because of you.

the questioning look on your face only worried anton further, anxious that you would pry at him, trying to get him to open up about what’s on his mind. yet, he couldn’t let you speak, afraid that if you did, he would easily succumb to your soothing words and concerned questions.

“well, forget about that. you said you brought food and gundam,” anton plastered a wide smile on his face as he jumped onto the couch beside you, hitting you in the process. you shoved him away from you, hitting him back.

“just for that, maybe i shouldn’t have brought it.”

“oh, come on,” he fake cooed, watching as you pushed the bag of food towards him, but anton was quick to open it only to offer you the first bite. “have you eaten yet?”

“i can’t remember, i think i ate a few hours ago when hanni came over with breakfast before class.”

“yn, that was before 9, it’s 7, it’s been, like, ten hours,” anton’s eyes staring at you with a worrisome gaze, his right hand holding the fork, pushing it towards you, while his left hand hovered under it, making sure the food wouldn’t fall out.

“anton,” you complained, moving to push his hand away, but he didn’t budge. “i brought it for you.”

“yn,” he mocked your tone, lifting the fork away from your grasp, and pushing it towards your lips, which he caught himself staring at for a brief moment before flitting his gaze back up to your eyes. “i’m not eating until you do.”

with a sigh, you begrudgingly complied, anton taking a bite right after you, just as he had said. 

the two of you sat in silence for a while, reveling in each other’s presence, both still feeling that tug of tension from your lack of contact. anton, seemingly the most on edge, kept darting his gaze from you to the table in front of him, something urging him to say something, anything, but he was afraid.

the boy waited until you had finished your last bite before dropping his fork with a sigh, thinking of anything to say to you, before the worst words came out of his mouth. “so what’s up with you?”

of course, he had to ask that, intensifying the tension between the two of you. it had to be the dumbest thing he could’ve used to start a conversation with, the words only reminding you both of the game of ignorance anton was playing this past week. yet, feeling bad already that you were the one to initiate the break in distance between the two of you, and that you were already worried he was upset with you, he wanted to make sure he’d fully engage himself and his attention to just you— not that he doesn’t already do that. yet, the minute he spoke that simple question, the next minute he wished he could take it back.

“not much, i’ve been so busy with finishing these two projects, i feel like i’m going insane.” you quickly stole a bite of anton’s food, the boy side-eyeing you before shoving your prying hand away. “well, not fully insane yet, thanks to taeyoung. talking about my project, i was actually going to ask you—“

“oh, right. you’re working with taeyoung, i didn’t know you guys were that close.” what the fuck. anton mentally slapped himself for speaking without thinking, his tone carrying hints of sarcasm, letting his close-to-bursting thoughts out, immediately cutting your previous sentence off.

“yeah, i don’t know, it just happened? i mean, we always had classes together, and we have so much in common, which is crazy, but we never talked— well, not until we ran into each other at the store.”

unsure if he was triggered by the mere mention of taeyoung, or if he let the boys get to his head, anton dead-panned. “okay, so you guys are getting even more closer, like progressing your relationship, then.”

i need to shut the fuck up.

taken aback by his tone, void of any emotion except the hints of sarcasm in it, you let out a dry laugh. “where did you even get that from?”

“come on, yn. your relationships always start off like this— and i’m not saying this happens with every guy you talk to— but you’re always too nice to everyone, like you jump at any opportunity to get to know people, and it doesn’t help that taeyoung likes you.”

what the fuck. 

“who even said i’m looking for a relationship with him? i mean, we’re literally working on a project together, plus i’ve only known him for a week, i don’t even connect with him on a deeper level like i do with y— you know, like how i would want to connect if i ever got that far into a relationship.”

“look, i’m just saying, you jump into these without even thinking— like yes, you do see the red flags when they pop up, but you’re always too nice to these guys no matter how they treat you, and then they end up only seeing you as a friend.”

“why do you always get so invested whenever i start talking to a guy, it’s not like i do that with you, clearly.”

anton turned to you sharply, “oh, i’m so sorry that i’m worried for you.”

“worried about what?” you cried out. “i get being worried, but you don’t need to talk down about every guy that shows interest in me, i never did that with you, and look what happened to you.”

“okay, so now you’re turning this on me? because if i remember correctly you weren’t too fond of my past relationships either.”

“well, yeah, you’re coming at me for my relationship choices for no reason at all, when i wasn’t the one with someone who controlled my every move.”

“okay, and? that was one bad relationship,” anton shrugged, his shoulders tense at the sight of you mentioning his ex. “what about jinsik?”

“what about him?”

“despite how nice of a guy he was, it seemed like, at first jinsik was just using you to distract himself from his ex.”

“okay, well, so was i.”

“that’s bullshit, yn.” anton scoffed. “you weren’t even hung up over anyone like he was.”

your mind was racing, your heart beating faster than ever. you wanted to speak it out, but you didn’t, afraid that if you did, you’d ruin the entire friendship you had built up with anton. truth be told, you were using jinsik to distract yourself in the beginning. hell, you were sure you used any opportunity to talk to any other guy as a distraction. to distract yourself from anton’s presence— or lack of presence, seeing as, even then, he resulted in ignoring you.

though, there was more of a reason to anton’s absence, that being his ex-girlfriend, the same girl who had made it her mission to monitor who anton talked to, going far to the point where the boys were barely allowed to talk to him. yet, excluding this, there was always some foreign factor that irked you about their relationship. maybe it was the fact that he was quick to drop you and everything related to you, or maybe, as ricky had shouted into your ears one night while shaking your shoulders, it was jealousy. but you would never admit it— if it even was that.

“so is this the story that you cooked up about mine and jinsik’s relationship that you inputted into my friends’ minds? and, i don’t mind that you told the rest of them because they wouldn’t budge until they knew what was happening, but it’s the fact that you lied about it, telling them that he was shitty throughout the whole thing? that he ended things badly? because you of all people know it didn’t go like that, you were the only person who knew the whole scope because you’re the only person i could let in to see me vulnerable.”

anton paused. of course he knew the complete and true story to what happened between you and jinsik, he was there when you two ended things. the first thing you did was visit anton, hoping to distract yourself just by being in his presence, but he’s known you for 20 years, he could see right past your act, and you couldn’t bottle it up much longer. 

then, why did he exaggerate the story so much in his head? he knew you both had ended things mutually, despite jinsik being the one to initiate it, that you both didn’t feel a deeper connection with each other far past when you guys started talking. and it’s not that jinsik was a bad guy, in fact he was the opposite, he treated you with everything you deserved, anton saw it. he saw the way you two looked at each other, the way you leaned towards each other to whisper your conversations, the way he would speed walk to catch up to you in the hallways, smoothly intertwining your fingers together before bringing your joint hands together and kissing your knuckles, all while looking anywhere but at you, knowing he’d get embarrassed.

holy shit. 

it was like anton was solving one of those one thousand pieced-puzzles and finally found that one missing piece to finish it, which was probably hiding underneath the box.

that was the reason why he had noticed every small thing about you, especially when it came down to your relationships. why his senses seemed to reach its peak whenever he saw you with someone else, everything else in his surroundings becoming a blur. why he always had— and failed to fight— the urge to find something bad about the people you chose to involve yourself with, convincing himself that they weren’t good enough for you. and the reason why he couldn't get himself to find a deeper connection with anyone else.

he liked you. he likes you. anton lee had fallen victim to the falling for your best friend crap that he swore would only happen in the movies, or those stupid romance books you read— of course, you didn’t know he read all the ones you talked about, let alone how closely he would listen to you talk about them. 

“i . . .” anton trailed, unsure of what to say or how to respond to you, afraid that anything he would say would worsen matters. 

option one: fuck it and confess or option two: completely fuck it up.

“okay, so maybe i did see it from an exaggerated point of view,” option two: completely fuck it up. “but, to be fair, maybe i was just a bit . . . protective and concerned, so the lines between mutual break-up and horrible break-up were blurred.”

you shook your head slightly at anton trying to beat around his true reasoning, you never even wanted to confront him on the fact that he had stretched out the story of what happened between you and jinsik. yet, learning this yesterday on top of anton’s sudden spiteful attitude towards your relationship choices pushed you to pry into his reasoning more, a part of you knowing there was more on his mind that he wasn’t telling you. “still, there had to be some reason to that.”

anton immediately froze, his lips shut tightly together, he knew he couldn’t say it, even if this was a chance, he wasn’t willing to take it. oh, i was just jealous that you were with some guy that wasn’t me, no big deal!

only being answered by his silence and wandering eyes, prying into yours which were glossed up, overwhelmed with the entirety of the situation, you broke the silence with a deep sigh. you stood up, avoiding all eye contact with anton, and gathered all your things together before making a move for the front door. you felt like the two of you were playing some sort of mind game, driven by the lack of communication on both ends of your emotions, both of you holding back from speaking the truth.

“i should go,” you spoke out coarsely, slowly walking backwards to the door before turning to it. “you know, let you rest, plus, i need to get up early in the morning.” lie.

“yn,” anton whispered out, slowly standing up. you, idiot, just say it. tell her to stay, explain everything.

“no, it’s fine, i don’t want this to escalate, we’re just both overwhelmed, we’re fine,” you turned back to him briefly before walking to the front door, swiftly turning the handle, and shutting the door with a soft thud.

watching you walk out the door, anton cursed to himself, sitting back down onto his couch, his head in his hands. he hated this. he hated how right you were. he hated how you handled the situation. he hated how you stopped it before it got worse. he hated that he liked you.

but most of all, he hated how, despite how much he could confide in you for all these years, he couldn’t express his newly realized feelings for you.

previous | masterlist | next

author’s note・❥・ @ddieumi ur super duper funny drama 😊😊😊 also guys sorry this took so long & it’s still bad bc i cannot write arguments oops

taglist (open!)・❥・ @yoursyuno @i03jae @started-with-f-ends-with-uck @kriize @pxnklover @reenfluffmarshmallow @1800-love-me @nothegemstone @molensworld @misonade @100203shong @ffixtionista @soheendo @renjuneoo @ddieumi @wk2o @billiondollarworth @nujeskz @byeonwooseokabs @angelseokjinie @otblous @letwiiparkjay @winuvs @aerivrs @hyuckies18 @pinklemonade34 @onlyhyunjin @lovesuhng @taroddori @nctrawberries @evidive @haechology @rikisluv @bunni @fae-renjun @chuutaroo @xia0vies

[i-love-ptv]

“Lana, How I Hate Those Guys” ୨୧

Pairing: Sarah Cameron x Fem!Reader

Fluff, Sarah being the bestest friend ever, slight JJ and Kie slander (srry i love them tho), slight twist at the end ;)

Wc: 1,181 (ish)

An: Woah chat, character unlocked 😈 Why does literally nobody write anything for her?? Platonic or not 😰

Randomly wrote this?? Also way longer than I’d thought it’d be?? Hope you enjoy tho!

Feedback always appreciated bbs! <33

“Oh my god Sarah, like what the fuck does he mean that we were just ‘friends with benefits?’ It sure didn’t feel like it when he’d be practically wrapped around my body during every bonfire.” You exclaim with a huff.

You knew it wouldn’t be just smooth sailing when you met JJ.

You had heard of his reputation of course. A new girl wrapped around his arm every week, touron or not.

But for some reason, you had hoped that you two could somehow be something more. You’d be lying if you said that you hadn’t fallen for the blonde rather quickly. Obviously, every other girl in Kildare couldn’t refrain from falling for JJ’s charm and sweet tone.

You unfortunately, suffered like the rest, that were just tossed aside when he got bored. When you met JJ at the boneyard of the cut, he had called your whole “arrangement” or what not, off.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, did you know that his name isn’t even JJ? it’s short for fucking John Jay.” Sarah says with a snicker.

“No fucking way, are you serious?”

“Dead.”

She continues, “Like oh my god, John has to be the most generic name ever, plus it radiates dickhead energy.”

“…Your boyfriend also has the name John..?”

“Okay yeah, but we’re talking about JJ right now. Anyways, don’t let it get to your head babe, he’s just a stupid douchebag asshole- sorry can you relax your hand f’me?” Sarah says while she paints your nails.

It’s moments like these where you’re grateful for a bestfriend like her, despite all of the running around she’s doing with the pouges to get the gold, you both know that she’d drop everything in a heartbeat for you.

The two of you have been friends since childhood, originally meeting in the 2nd grade.

You both easily bonded due to coming from similar backgrounds; you were a kook as well.

You look up at her eyes and softly gasp, “Oh shit! Sorry. Anyways, I bet he’s got another girl in his bed right now. Y’know what? He’s probably busy trying to get into Kiara’s pants.”

“No pogue on pogue macking,” you scoff in a mocking tone.

“It’s actually such bullshit, I see the way that he looks at her, and of course I see how her eyes somehow always drift to him. I don’t know if she thinks I’m fucking stupid or if she’s dumb herself, but I figured that it’d pass. After all, didn’t she kiss Pope and John B?”

“Mhm, I think she just strives for attention, y’know? She’s always getting all pissy when I come around, maybe it’s ’cause I’m dating Bee and she’s not.” Sarah murmurs.

“You’re all done, by the way.”

You fall back onto the pillows on her bed.

“Boys are just so dumb Sar.” You groan.

“Definitely. Also watch your nails, hon.”

Sarah also lays back onto her pillows, leaning on one arm.

There’s a few beats of silence between you two, just relishing in the moment while SZA’s ‘The Weekend’ plays softly through Sarah’s speaker.

“That’s it. No more moping and being gloomy. It’s a nice night out! We should do something!” Sarah exclaims.

You look at her with a quirked brow, “First of all, I don’t mope, second, what could we possibly do at this hour?”

“That’s the thing! We can just plan it along the way! That makes thing 10 times more fun.” The blonde says with a grin.

You think for a few seconds, and come to your conclusion, “Actually, yeah! That sounds good. Let’s go.”

Sarah squeals and jumps up from the bed, pulling you with her.

You and Sarah quickly pull on your hoodies, since that night chill will surely get to you both, and the two of you slide your flip flops onto your freshly painted toes.

Sarah grabs her speaker and keys, and put them into her tote bag, the one she had painted the day you two had made your ‘bikini crates’.

The two of you giggle while somewhat rushing down the stairs, without a care in the world.

“Sarah? Where are you two going?” You hear Rose call out.

Sarah looks at you with a glint of mischief in her eyes. She grabs your hand and with that, you both left.

You and Sarah had been running around outside for around an hour, your flip flops slapping against the pavement as you skipped around yelling the lyrics to ‘Melt’ by Kehlani.

You two had somehow managed to make it to figure 8 beach. There was something about it that always lured you and Sarah to it.

Sarah doesn’t hesitate to kick off her flip flops and set down her tote bag.

“C’mon babe! Get in with me!” Sarah shouts as she giggles and makes grabby-hands out towards you.

“But we don’t have any bathing suits!” You shout back, equally as loud.

“Who cares?! It’s just us!”

Sarah strips down and then looks at you expectantly.

You sigh, and begin to pull your hoodie over your head.

“Hell yeah sexy! Free those tittiesssss!” She drags out.

She grabs your hand after you finish, and starts running towards the water.

“Christ Sarah! Slow the hell down!” You shout while trailing behind her.

As you start to feel the water work its way up to the middle of your calves. Sarah looks back at you and yells, “Jump!”

You both dive make a splash, you find one another whilst you're underwater.

You come up with her, with your hands around her neck.

You brush her wet hair out of her face and look deeply into her eyes.

Her eyes remind you of the tree bark that you used to hug and climb when you both were younger, well, the bark that you would climb.

Sarah was never able to do these kind of activities, for her parents were stricter than yours. But this wouldn’t stop her from watching, and cheering you on.

That’s one of the things you loved about Sarah.

How despite your interests somewhat clashing, she still remained by your side.

You grew fond of how she opened herself up to the world and allowed herself to do more, very quickly.

You were never upset when she started hanging out with the pogues, in fact, you encouraged it. You wanted her to be happy, and you hoped that she’d allow you to stick around to see it, thankfully, she did.

Sarah’s whisper breaks you out of your thoughts, “Boys totally suck right? They’d never have this much fun with us.”

“Right.” You say, just as soft.

You continue to stare at her.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“Shut up, loser.” You say with a slight grin, nothing but affection coming from your semi-chapped lips.

You’re glad that she drops everything for you in a heartbeat.

But you also wish that maybe, just maybe, she’d look at you differently..The way that you look at her.

But until then, you’ll still remain grateful for a bestfriend like her.

Fuck JJ. God, John B’s one lucky bastard.

[thatone-brightstar]

Kinktober winner: "Jealousy and other fire hazards" (Carmy Berzatto x fem!reader)

a/n: so this was supposed to be out yesterday but i went out on saturday and i think i caught a cold or something bc i feel like absolute shit. non the less, here is our kinktober winner!!! also can you tell i mashed up two of my favorite blurbs!? enjoy and remember reblogs and comments are the way to show appreciation for your favorite creators 🖤

ps. Happy Halloween!!

Warnings: smut, MINORS DNI, unprotected piv sex, hair pulling, rough, choking, creampie, probably other stuff too but i forgot lol

Your heels clicked lightly as you stumbled into the apartment, angrily flinging your keys at the hallway table and not bothering to see if they even made it, before blindly moving into the kitchen. 

“I don’t get- shit-” You groan, stumbling right into the kitchen counter. “-what the fuckin’ deal is, Carmen.”

He follows behind you in the same pissy mood, the tension prevalent in the strained tendon that runs down the side of his neck. Carmen rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, leaning against the counter and watching you pull ingredient after ingredient from the dimly lit fridge. His anger subsides for a few subtle seconds when his eyes roam the silhouette of the tiny black dress you considered your ‘witch’s costume’ and the one that had him by the balls all fucking night.

You slam the fridge door hard enough to pull him from his thoughts and he clears his throat. “The fuckin’ deal is that you were letting some jagoff sweet talk you-” Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes. “- what, I leave you alone for five minutes and you already got a bunch of idiots behind you?!”

“First off, it was one idiot.” You argue back, struggling to light the stove between your blurry vision. “And second, why are you acting like it’s my fault!? I didn’t start the conversation!”

“Yeah, but you seemed pretty comfortable with the attention… fuckin’ gigglin’ n’ shit.” His accent grows stronger when he’s pissed and you try to avoid the feeling seeing him angry rises on your skin. 

Instead you scoff in a mocking tone, one that turns excited once the flame finally burns bright in front of you. “Aw what, you jealous?” you throw over your shoulder, ignoring the tightness of his jaw, illuminated by the tiny lightbulb from the stove.  

He doesn’t say anything for a while, and you assume that maybe he’s let it go and has moved into the bedroom. ‘What a shame,’ the voice in your head taunts as you pop a spoonful of peanut butter into your mouth while you wait for the cheese to melt on your quesadilla. ‘it would’ve been fun.’

You feel it before turning around, the heavy warmth exuding from another body close to your back. The pointed hat over your head blocks your vision past your shoulders but you can still feel him linger behind you. With light fingers, Carmy runs his hand softly up the sheer glove on your forearm until it reaches the curve of your shoulder. oh.

“Jealous?” He whispers, making the exposed skin shiver. “I don’t need to be jealous…”

You’re about to turn around- hooded eyes glossy with the alcohol in your system and the sweet anticipation of what could happen next- but before you can move, his hands take a hold of your hips and press your back against his hard chest.

“Should I be jealous?”His tone is taunting, breathy enough that he sees the bumps on your skin start to rise even in the low light. He pushes your hair over to your other shoulder, being careful with the hat that blocks half the view of your face. All he can see is your parted lips and the sweet little heaves that show just how much his touch affects you. “Hmm?”

“No…” You answer immediately, bewitched by the rhythmic touch of his hand on your torso. Each time it almost reaches your breasts, he pulls it back down again, then up when he hits the edge of your hip bone. 

You don’t notice how your head’s fallen back over his shoulder or how your hands rest over his wandering ones, urging them to touch your body further, the simple touch of his hands makes you lightheaded but it’s not enough to drown out the ache between your thighs.

“Carmy…”

Your sweet moan vibrates over his chest, his hands twitch slightly and the sound seems to push them down to where you want him most. His chest separates just enough to let you turn between his hold and not a second goes by before you fling your arms around his shoulders and seal your lips to his.

A hungry groan escapes his mouth. With one hand gripping the nape of your neck, he turns you in your spot, making your heels squeak over the floor and the witch hat fly to a different part in the room.

“Fuck-” You let out in surprise when his hands grip tightly on your waist and hoist you up in a rush, it’s as if he can’t get close to you quick enough.

While his lips latch on to your neck again, your hands work on the many buttons of his shirt. He’s too impatient for that, though, and rather than waiting a few seconds, he lifts it over his head, undershirt and all. You have no time to admire his swelling chest before his lips are back on yours and his hands prying your thighs apart to make space for him. Your dress rolls around your hips, but you’re too turned on to care.

“Fuckin’ idiot…” He breathes out between kisses. “...bet he wanted to have you like this.”

His lips drag onto your neck while his hand starts to play insistent circles over your panties and fishnets. Your nails dig into his exposed shoulders, helping your hips grind against his touch.

“D’you think he’d have you like this? Fuckin’ squirming on his hand?” You shake your head more out of habit than attention, thoughts too clouded with the feeling of his hard cock pressing to the inside of your thigh.

“Baby, please…” You moan again, closer to his ear and you can almost swear his groan unearthed something deep in you.

“Whose is it?” Carmy sneers, eyes so dark that any trace of blue is long gone. His thumb presses deeper into you and a shockwave travels up your spine and into your scalp. “C’mon baby… tell me it’s mine and I'll give you what you want.”

Your mouth feels dry from all the heavy breaths you’re taking but you gasp out a short answer. “All yours.”

“Yeah?” He asks, thumb speeding up circles over your soaked underwear while the other hand undoes his belt frantically.

“All yours, Bear, please jus’... fuck.” 

You’re about to protest when he pulls back his thumb and there’s nothing to dull out the throbbing ache anymore, but a dry sound, almost like a whip, echoes in the silent room. You only have time to look down at the torn up mess your tights have become before your eyes roll back into your skull at the tight sensation of his head resting at your entrance. 

Carmy slips in just perfect and lets his head fall over your shoulder, watching your cunt swallow him slowly, inch by inch. He’s mesmerized by the sensation of your joined bodies that he almost doesn't notice your protesting groans and the way you wiggle your hips to make him move quicker.

He lets out a soft chuckle and kisses your naked shoulder, where one of the straps of your dress has cascaded to the side; then with a firm hand over your clavicle, he pushes your back flat against the cold surface. Your eyes are hooded and bright, filled with mischief and anticipation that soon turns to excitement once you feel him pull out slowly.

A sudden gasp leaves your throat with the first snap of his hips, then another and another and it only seems to motivate him more. His thrusts are quick and exact over the spot he knows makes you squirm.

"Fuckin' idiot thinks he can take what's mine..." His hands take a hold of your ankles, spreading one heeled foot by each side of his head as he continues to mumble for himself. "Baby, all your moans're mine."

A chorus of 'yours' is all that your mouth can muster between the heavy breaths and constant gasp.

Your nails cling to the edge of the slippery counter, breathing in short bursts, interrupted by the weight of your thighs that pressed to your chest. Carmy’s panting fuels the growing fire in your cunt and you can't pull away from the fierce look behind his eyes.

The memory of your sweet laugh at that son of a bitch’s joke pushes his thrusts harder into you, making your breast bounce against your shaking legs. 

‘Not so funny now, huh?’ He sneers between breaths, eyes glistening as he leans down to run his tongue along your salty skin.

The extra weight of his torso pressing to your navel blurs your vision even more and you know it's only a matter of seconds before you're coming all around him. Your nails rake his scalp, catching on his hair and holding on tightly as your eyes water with need.

Carmy answers back by hoisting your leg up even higher, cock pounding inside at a new angle that makes you lose your breath, spine curling off the counter and against his sweaty chest. ‘Atta girl-’ He groans near your ear. ‘-you can take it.’ 

His words push you over the edge. Your orgasm rings through your ears and you're sure the high pitched moan leaving your throat will get you a few dirty looks from your neighbors in the morning, but you can't care less. From your haze, you feel Carmy give his all into a few more thrusts, before he goes rigid over you and a low groan shakes his body, making your cunt flutter around him.

He pulls out of you with a hiss, but his attention is captured by the milky white liquid slipping through your sensitive slit. You hiss too when his thumb graces over the area, pushing back in his release. There's a taunting grin over his face as he does it too and you can't help but mirror it over your own tired features.

That's when you notice it, the bright ember glow casting and dancing behind him, almost like flames...

"Shit!" You shout and quickly jump off the counter, turning him by the shoulder so he can see the stove and the pan over the open flame that's caught on fire.

"Fuck!" Carmy reacts quickly, pulling a fire extinguisher from under the sink and rapidly dousing the stove in the white foam.

You're both silent for a few seconds- contemplating the soot that's taken over the stove hood and part of the back wall- then your snicker breaks the silence and you're both falling into an euphoric fit of laughter that doesn't feel foreign to situation either.

**********

Taglist: @pearlstiare @teteminne , @beebslebobs, @harrysmatcha , @yum-yahgurt , @pussy-f41ry , @kirakombat , @redsakura101 , @hobisunshine13 , @feyhunter78

[chimielie]

cw f!reader , mild fraternal violence , atsumu’s terrible lying skills

“I know something you don’t know,” Osamu singsongs, standing in the doorway of their shared bathroom and peering over his brother’s shoulder at his reflection in the mirror.

“Yeah?” Atsumu grunts, yanking a comb through his hair and glaring back at his twin. “Spit it out, shitty ‘Samu. I got places to be, you know?”

“Ouch, don’t shoot the messenger,” Osamu drawls, leaning against the doorframe. “I know that you have a date tonight and you think you’re being sneaky about it.”

“Do not,” Atsumu scowls immediately, dropping the comb and turning around, because he is the worst liar ever. “I don’t even—what are you—I’m taking myself on a date, how about that, it’s called self care, ever heard of it? Huh? Okay? Huh?”

“Okay,” Osamu says, “You’re wearing a tie.”

“I can wear a tie if I want to,” Atsumu sneers, fiddling with it.

“Last summer, at Uncle Jun’s wedding, Ma had to literally threaten to shave your head to get you to wear one.”

“I’m a man now,” Atsumu sticks his chin up, examining his jaw. “I can wear a tie. Hey, did I miss anything while I was shaving?”

“You don’t have any facial hair to shave. And you have a hickey right there.”

“What? Seriously? Where?” Atsumu panics, turning back and forth.

“Ha, I got you—hey!!! Don’t hit me, asshole! I’ll tell Ma!!! And you—you left your fucking bouquet out on my desk, by the way. I told you to stop putting your stuff—no I swear I’ll kill you get offa me get off!—on my desk just because yours is too messy!”

“It was there for five seconds! You left all your laundry on my bed the other day—“

“Where was I s’posed to put it, the floor?”

“Your closet!” Atsumu roars. “Oh, shit, what time is it?” He drops his brother’s shirt collar abruptly.

“5:30,” Osamu says, dusting himself off. “What time you gotta be there?”

“She’s walkin’ over here now, probably,” Atsumu says, rushing back to the bathroom. “Fuck, well since you know, can I use your cologne?”

“It’s the same one you have?”

“It’s better, I don’t know,” Atsumu argues. “Just gimme it, it’s like one spritz.”

“Fine,” Osamu grumbles. “Hey, ‘Tsumu, I know something else you don’t know.”

“What,” Atsumu rolls his eyes as he walks around, frantically shoving his keys and wallet into his pockets, picking up the bouquet—delicate red and white flowers, not bad, scrub, thinks Osamu.

“This ain’t your first date,” he says smugly.

“What are you, Sherlock Holmes?” His brother says. “How d’you figure that?”

Osamu mock-stretches before counting off on his fingers. “One, you never walk home with me and Suna anymore. Two, there’s some flowery shit that appeared in our shower, and I know I didn’t buy it, and you’re not walkin’ around smelling like lavender and honey, so you’ve gotta be sneakin’ someone in. Three, you came to practice two weeks ago with an actual hickey, y’know, when you kept missing sets ‘cause you were in such a good mood.”

Atsumu blinks at him, finally lost for words.

“And,” Osamu says, tone somewhat gentler. “You seem a lot happier lately. Less, y’know, hard on yourself. Whoever it is, I think she’s good for you.”

“Thanks,” Atsumu says, swallowing roughly. “You’re so sappy.”

“Says the guy holding the flowers.” And trying not to let his eyes water over, but Osamu doesn’t say that bit. He can spare some of his brother’s dignity.

“It’s our six-month anniversary,” Atsumu says quietly. “Please don’t tell Ma yet, okay? She’s always on about volleyball bein’ enough of a distraction from school, I know she thinks dating is too. I just wanna—I want her to like my—”

He says your name just as the doorbell rings.

“Her? You’re dating—?” Osamu’s tone is incredulous. “Hold on, you can’t go yet. She’s like a million times out of your league—”

“I know!” Atsumu beams at him. “Keep your mouth shut or you’ll regret it. Tell Ma I’m sleeping at the dorms with Suna. Bye!”

[bbagelbitch]

Assorted Nekoma headcanons: (just for funzies)

(they've been sitting in my archives for YEARS)

First years:

Lev actually managed to get a girlfriend at one point about halfway through first year, she asked him out because she thought he was cute, broke up with him a week and a half later after realizing he’s a dumbass and a bit of a weirdo

Shibuyama is one of those people who you’d think he’s just listening to Taylor swift or something but he unplugs his earbuds and its like- little darkie or some screamo heavy metal LMAO

Shibuyama has a helicopter mom which feeds his anxiety to the point that he carries pepper spray with him sometimes

Tamahiko has a pet tarantula

Inuoka is the kind of person who’d wear shorts when its snowing out

Inuoka and lev will both unironically do Fortnite dances during practice

Shibayama totally has a bunch of allergies and is a picky eater

Inuoka and lev are basically just human garbage disposals (will eat ANYTHING)

Lev can’t swim

Biblically accurate lev Haiba (gets the worlds WORST sunburns every time he goes outside)

Lev has low blood pressure and will randomly faint when standing up too fast (Kenma has the same problem but refuses to admit it)

Inuoka is one of those people who types in all caps the majority of the time. Every literature and language teacher he’s ever had has told him off for using way too many exclamation points. (He can’t help it he’s just a happy little dude)

Lev texts constant updates about what he’s doing t the team group chat to the point where he’s been kicked off of it more times than he can count. (Usually for talking about taking a shit) (see Charles Boyle from B-99 for reference)

Second years:

Fukunaga and Kenma rarely have actual text conversations but they’re constantly sending memes back and forth to each other

Tora actually has fairly curly hair and it was a borderline afro when he was in elementary school (he’s part latino in my mind argue with the wall)

Kenma listens to almost exclusively video game soundtracks (skyward sword is his favourite)

Tora totally listens to girypop rap (he is 100% a Flo milli Stan sorry)

Tora has asked kai for advice on how to talk to girls SEVERAL times and the information that you should just talk to them like they’re normal people blows his mind every time (how does kai do it? Is he a witch? A demon?

Fukunaga owns at least 3 cats and they all have weird names (inspired by my friend who’s cat’s name is Fax Machine)

Kenma is the world’s driest texter (canon actually)

Also fukunaga uses :3 constantly

Fukunaga and kenma constantly bully Tora about his obsession with looksmaxing and say shit like “he can’t talk he’s too busy mewing” LMFAO (you either drip or you drown taketora)

Tora knows how to braid hair cause he’d help akane with her hair when they were younger

All of the second years used to bite people when they were kids

Third years:

The third years have done group costumes for halloween since their first year

Kai is basically the team’s dedicated tutor (Kuroo is too snarky and yaku is too impatient)

Kuroo listens to western (English) music cause he thinks it makes him seem cool and he developed a superiority complex about it. “Oh you haven’t heard of Radiohead?”

Also kuroo and yaks have pretty similar music taste (a lot of modern rock) but the key difference is Kuroo likes arctic monkeys and yaku likes the strokes (they argue about which band is better constantly (yaku is right, its the strokes))(cause they always have to be arguing about something smh)

Kai also totally has a longtime girlfriend in high school bro is possibly the only person on the team who’s done ANYTHING with a girl (probably one of the only people on the whole damn SHOW)

Kai defo knows martial arts I would not want to face him in a fight

Kuroo still uses emoticons instead of emojis :3 ;D and whenever he does, yaku makes fun of him and tells him to “get with the times”

Yaku 100% repeats what Kuroo says in a mocking tone whenever the opportunity arises

Kai is the type of person to say “personality” when asked if he prefers tits or ass

Miscellaneous:

Nekoma is the most neurodivergent team in the whole show bruh like come on 

(autistic: Lev, Kenma, fukunaga.)(kenma totally also has ARFID)

(ADHD: Inuoka, Yamamoto, (both textbook cases of ADHD in guys) Kuroo, fukunaga) (Fukunaga my AuDHD king)

(OCD: Tamahiko, shibuyama (I just get vibes ok leave me alone) 

(Yaku isn’t neurodivergent he just has anger issues lmao) 

Kai is the only sane one on the entire team

Kuroo is also 100% one of those kids who got diagnosed with adhd really young so he appears mostly normal thanks to being medicated from the age of like- 6

Every single person on the team is oblivious as to when someone is flirting with them (kai is the exception)(girls pull out the wow your hands are so big and you’re so tall all the time and NOBODY reads into it)

Kai exclusively smells like a mix of vanilla and sandalwood and on the other side of that spectrum, Yamamoto reeks of axe body spray and b.o. No matter how many times Kenma tells him that axe actually drives girls away, Tora never listens.

Akane becomes manager of the boys volleyball team once she reaches high school (the first years will be third years by then)

The team all protective as HELL over akane (canon tbh)

[yellowjackets96]

i owe you a black eye and two kisses / angus tully x reader

summary / after defending your best friend’s honor in a scuffle with kountze, he decides to take first aid into his own hands.

warnings / mentions of blood, bruises, and general injuries

word count / 2K even!

heyyy, baby’s first x reader fanfiction! cannot believe i have been alive nearly twenty damn years and never once did this. who crode?

You cannot seem to remember when the blood started to pour from your mouth or the moment you realized Kountze’s nose should not be pointed in that direction, but both moments hit you like a freight train when Angus grabs your arm.

“Holy shit!” he exclaims, fingers prodding at the newborn black eye on your face. “You– you– my god.”

As cooly as possible, you pop your neck to the side and smirk. “Heh. All in a day’s work.”

“You could’ve killed him,” one of Kountze’s goons says, tending to his nose. The blonde bully is shell-shocked, a state of mind you previously believed to be inherently against his nasty nature.

You scoff, shrugging at the lackey. “I’m sure his daddy can help,” you remark, spinning around on your heel and striding out of the room, with a hyped Angus in tow. He’s so energized, he could probably shoot himself off the walls like a projectile and fly back to you like a boomerang.

“I can’t believe you had that in you,” he mutters, still quite bewildered by your sucker punch. “In all my years of knowing you…I don’t think he’ll ever bother me again, now.”

You turn slightly to grin at him. “Hey, I’m glad to hear it. Guy’s a real fuckface and a half. His reign of terror has gone on far too fucking long.”

Once you get to your modest dorm room towards the end of the hall, you feel Angus reach out and touch you once again, and he gazes at you sternly, his expression mirroring a way only your mom looks at you. You roll your eyes, hands not moving from turning the key in the door. “What’s the matter, Tully?”

“You didn’t have to do that,” he says, a deep grimace on his face. “He was shit-talking me, not you. And now you’ve got a black eye, your lip is busted, and you could’ve lost teeth, and–”

You swiftly cut him off. “So? You’re my best friend. I was simply defending your honor. Little shit shouldn’t be able to get away with mocking your familial situation. It’s not like you can control it.” Twisting the knob to the side, you gently push the door open and step into the room, eyeing him slightly. “You can come in, if you’re not planning on lecturing me.”

“Well,” Angus says, shutting the door behind him. “You can ignore my chastising to high heaven, but you’re still going to need some wound care for the black-and-blue knuckles, swollen eye, and split lip. Even if you don’t wanna ice the bruises and bumps, though, you need to keep the lip stuff from the point of possible infections.”

“You’re kidding me, right?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him. “Everything that could possibly hurt is just…dully throbbing. And I’m sure all the bleeding was due to how shallow the cuts were. I need nothing more than an ibuprofen and a bandaid.”

For the third time, the boy takes a grip on your arm, lanky digits wrapping around your cold skin gently enough to leave no mark, but firmly enough to stop you definitively in your tracks. “Sit down,” he states, the edge of hoarseness in his voice causing it to be barely above a whisper. “Now.”

You find his forceful tone compelling enough to follow his commands, pushing your swivel chair around until it faces forward and reluctantly take a seat. “Fine. Have it your way.”

“Thank you,” Angus says, winking at you before immediately diving headfirst into rummaging through your cabinets and drawers. “You’re gonna need the whole nine yards of first aid care here. Just be patient, okay? I know from you doing it for me that the process tends to be lengthy.”

“Whatever you say,” you murmur. “As long as you don’t break anything valuable during your expedition into my belongings.”

He turns to you with a hearty smirk, arms filled with cotton pads, alcohol wipes, hydrogen peroxide bottles, bandages, and tweezers, among multiple other things. “Oh yeah?” he says, seemingly challenging you as he places the supplies on the desk behind you. “And what would you do about it if I did?”

“Probably cut up my end of our friendship bracelets,” you reply, not missing a beat. “You don’t even wear yours, anyway.”

Angus does not even need to speak to refute your claim as he pushes his sweater sleeve past his watch, revealing the braided object in question is still on display on the part of his arm that no one can see. Your jaw goes slightly askew at the revelation. “I stand corrected.”

He chuckles, sufficiently satisfied with the exchange as he flips the cap open on one of the peroxide bottles, pressing it against a cotton pad. Once he determines it to be prepared enough for your bloodied mouth, he looks over at you, eyebrows furrowed in thought. A moment of contemplation passes – he closely scans your face up and down, down and up, enough times to be able to sketch it perfectly from memory, as he nods to himself. With a steady step forward, he places the pad between his thumb and pointer finger and goes in, forcefully dabbing it against your bottom lip. All of the miniscule amounts of warmth escapes your body as you roughly suck air in through your teeth, grabbing a fistful of the cuff of his sweater.

“Does that hurt?” Angus asks, wide brown eyes filled with an entire galaxy’s worth of concern. “Be honest with me.”

You grind your teeth, putting as much effort as humanly possible into a brave face. “It stings, that’s for sure.”

He quickly withdraws the soggy gauze from your mouth. “Good news, then, ‘cause I’m already done with it.”

“Shit!” you exclaim, hands flying up to your bottom lip. “Really?”

Snickering at your shocked face, Angus tilts his head to the side, examining your injuries again. “Yup. I think you were right about it being shallow. I’m no med student, but I don’t think it’s at risk of developing any kind of infection.

Melting back into the chair, your face is overtaken by a relaxed smile, in spite of yourself. A few seconds pass before curiosity overtakes you and you peer over your shoulder to ogle at his activity. You’re met with the completely ridiculous sight of him attempting to maneuver a bandaid into a jar of petroleum jelly. “Jesus, Angus!”

He can’t help himself from laughing at your reaction. “What? You didn’t have any ointment!”

“You said my lip’s fine!” you respond. “Unless you were trying to soften the blow of my oncoming sepsis by lying to me.”

He shakes his head emphatically. “No. I just wanted to see if I could make it hurt less for you.”

“It doesn’t,” you insist, waving him off.

“Really?” he asks, folding his arms across his chest in judgment, once again harkening back to something an authority figure in your life would do. “Then why were you tugging at my shirt like a damn seven-year-old at a grocery store?”

You scowl at him, face overtaken by a shade of red that only appears when you’re trying not to laugh at him. “I hate you.”

Angus laughs a sharp ha!, face wrinkled up in a simper as he pulls himself back up to your level, an ice pack in either hand. “No, you don’t. You wouldn’t have kept me around for so long if you did.” He drops the ice packs in your lap and points at your cheek. “I can’t believe you were insisting on letting these wounds take care of themselves, dude. Your cheek’s swollen as hell.”

“How bad is it?” you curiously ask, brows quirked in thought.

“Well, the verdict’s already in that you’ll survive this,” he quips, earning a laugh from you. “So that’s out of the question, but if I didn’t already know you, I’d assume you either victoriously won or pitifully lost a professional boxing match.”

You playfully smack at his shoulder as he breaks into a laughing fit. “It was a compliment!” he defensively mutters, picking up one of the ice packs. “The thing’s a bona fide war wound, I swear. You look badass.”

“You should see the other guy,” you remark, watching him intently as Angus brings a hand up to your face, softly touching the ice pack to your bruise. “Also, I can’t believe you would call me badass. You must be buttering me up for the next time you have a bone to pick with Teddy.”

“Nah,” he denies, raising the pack slightly further up. “You’ve always been badass, ever since we were old enough to speak our minds. It’s a mindset in my eyes, since you never really looked like I imagined one being.”

Your face instantly softens as you gaze at him, studying the way he intently deals with something as uneventful as a bruised cheek. “You’re just being nice because I look like hell.”

Angus pulls his attention away from the ice pack to meet your lingering eyes. “I’m as serious as a car crash. You’ve always had this self-assured attitude, no matter who you were dealing with. The way that I don’t back down from a physical fight is exactly how you are in verbal sparring matches, but you’re, just, so much cooler in terms of that, ‘cause you refuse to relent on your beliefs. I could never be so firm when I speak to people, even if I try my very fuckin’ darndest.”

“I-I had-” you stammer heavily, effectively caught off-guard by his words. “No idea you thought so highly of me. That’s so incredibly sweet.”

“Well, you deserve to hear it,” he says, taking the ice pack off of your face. “You’ve been such a constant in my life, and I seriously don’t know who or where I would be without you. Hell, you even BEGGED your parents to let you transfer to every single school I ended up in post-expellings! I can’t help but idolize you. You were born with an insatiable fighting spirit. Nothing and nobody can get to you.”

Before you can form a single coherent thought, you blurt out four words you would never even dream of saying to Angus Tully. “Can I kiss you?”

Silence falls over the two of you like a curtain as Angus gazes up at you, eyes full of wonder, mouth hanging open. Before long, his lips turn upward in one of his signature smiles. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Lifting his hands up, he gingerly cups your cheeks with his hands and dives in, pressing your lips together in a delicate embrace. You close your eyes on impact, heart lighting up with an intensity you are not sure you have ever felt. Holy shit! Kountze must have killed you! This has to be heaven! The moments pass fleetingly before Angus finally pulls away, a genuine, natural, adorable little grin on his face as he sheepishly doesn’t face you, cheeks burning a soft, passionate pink. You must have been an idiot for never making a move all these years, but at least you finally got struck with the urge to do so.

“Y- your c-ch-” and now, like poetic justice, he is the one who’s been bitten by the stutter bug. “Your cheek looks better already. How about we get some ibuprofen in you and then we – okay, you have to step in if I embarrass myself here – step off of campus to go get some dinner?”

You’re smirking now, trying not to giggle at the unseen shy side he keeps so carefully locked away. “Angus Tully, are you asking me on a date?” He tries his very best not to avoid eye contact with you again as he nervously nods in confirmation. You reach out for his hand, interlocking your fingers together like puzzle pieces. “Well, then. I’d have to say what I’m sure you’ve been waiting to hear come out of my mouth all these years – yes.”

[seaadc]

hello!!! if you’re up for this, can i request any genshin men with a reader who feels like a horrible person because of things they’ve done in the past? i have a guilt complex lmaoooooo (i say lmao but it’s agony) (PEOPLE IN THE CROWD WITH A GUILT COMPLEX PUT YOUR HANDS UPPPP)

also this is a complete side note but i think this concept would be especially interesting with wrio since he’s always in the fortress or meropide, seeing people who have done wrong everyday in the fairly normal system (by jail standards) they have down there

guilt | wriothesley x reader

OH GOD THIS HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY ASKS FOR A WHILE NOW IM SO SORRY MY NOTIFS ARE ALWAYS FILLED UP AND I DONT SEE ASKS ANYMOREEE T-T

angst w fluff at the end, soft!wrio, he’s comforting youu, gets a bit suggestive at the end, no pronouns used but reader is referred to as ‘my love’ and ‘princess’

it’s nothing to be concerned about really, if you were a criminal and probably rotting in the fortress of meropide for— archons knows how long, you would’ve just let your conscience be the death of you.

but you aren’t! your not sitting around and laying in the fortress of doom meropide, thank the archons.

though you can’t help but think if the seven are laughing at you, quite literally. your state isn’t so stable as it seems..

wriothesley, your partner, had called sigewinne ages ago to check on your health status. although it was all negative, the tests, the results, the examinations, all negative.

there wasn’t anything wrong with you, so why is there an aching pain in your stomach whenever your brain just relapses back to the past, the time where you had done such unforgiving sins, you couldn’t even do a whole statement word for word on what you had done to those poor victims.

one of them, someone special to you. someone special that you had lost because of your own carelessness, someone you had lost because you were being selfish, someone who you wished to cherish for a lifetime— though fate is mocking you unfortunately.

and the pain, the inkling pain deep inside that you cant ignore, it’s annoying. it’s frustrating. it’s … sad.

it’s a pity to see someone like you, a nice person who only wished to improve themselves and hope for a better future. yet it seems celestia didn’t approve.

your longtime partner, wriothesley, had been worried for you. ever since you met, you were always dozing off, not focusing, you looked uncomfortable yet he couldn’t pinpoint what was actually wrong.

it was starting to piss him off, really. the way you doze off when he talks to you, when you two spend time together and your too busy in your own little world to pay attention to him.

wriothesley had decided to sit you down, like what any partner would do when they encounter a misunderstanding or a mishap. communication is key after all.

he couldn’t ever forget the look on your face, the day where you looked at him with such pitiful eyes and regretful ones while he just stared back at you with a stern look.

he feels pity, wriothesley feels pity. someone like him shouldn’t, so what is this he feels?

“tell me what’s been bugging you for months, [name].” wriothesley takes a deep breath, then exhales as you sat there, fidgeting with your fingers. “i didnt get the chance to ask you back then, since it was your privacy after all, hm?” he spoke firmly, his voice laced with curiosity and the tone where he just wants to know the truth.

just tell him, it wouldn’t be so hard. he’s your partner after all, you have every right to tell him so. “[name], i’m doing this to help you. you’re someone extremely precious to me and i can’t help myself just seeing you look so lost.” wriothesley explains, sighing deeply as he waits for your response.

how would he react? he’s the all mighty scary wriothesley after all. he’s known to have less mercy and sympathy on others. why tell? you’ll just embarrass yourself, you thought to yourself.

but you couldn’t. you couldn’t keep a secret, especially towards him. if he was any other people, a stranger, you would’ve kept it till the end of your life. but he’s not just a stranger.

he’s your partner, your loved one, your everything. wriothesley is someone you can trust, someone you care for. is it really worth keeping a secret from him?

you took a deep breath, letting the air get past your nostrils. “i have.. committed alot of unforgettable things in the past, someone like you wouldn’t like. someone like you wouldn’t appreciate.” you confessed, looking down and avoiding your beloved’s longing stare.

wriothesley looks at you, tilting his head in confusion. you? doing things that he couldn’t possibly imagine? “ever since i’ve started to open up a new path to walk on, the guilt in my chest still pains me. it’s almost eating me whole.” you continue.

he smiles at you, not a happy smile, a faint sad smile. he’s quite joyful about how you were guilty, and not like any other person who wouldnt even feel the slightest bit of empathy to what they’ve done wrong in the past.

this is the [name] he fell inlove with. the honest, confident, firm, one. there was no denying that wriothesley was hopelessly inlove with you. and he finds it lovingly amusing.

“if you regret it, then it’s okay. you don’t have to be in debt of a thing you regret on doing. if you truly feel guilt, then it just means your improving and want to be a better person my love.” he smiles, standing up and walking over to your seat, crouching before you as you were forced to look at him.

wriothesley holds your chin, going up to caress your cheeks coated with a red flush. “it may be your fault or not, but there will always be a way to fight back the sins of the past. you can get through it, i know you can.”

“your the strong and confident lady i love after all, hm?” he says with a grin, which makes your already flustered enough face go even more red.

you smile tenderly as he continues to caress your cheek, you leaned into his touch as you hear him chuckle lowly. wriothesley stands up straight, his hand now on your head as he ruffles your soft and silky hair.

wriothesley smirks, a teasing one. which means he’s probably going to say something just to tease you and to lighten up the mood a bit. “besides, i’m the only one who’s allowed to eat you whole, princess.”

made by @seaadc and @seaadc only !!

laughinf bc i made this at exactly 1am LMFAOO (i’m mentally unstable)

[sk1fanfiction]

took a lil break and now i'm getting back into it

ch. 9 rev ─ crazy chapter, lav 💔 !!!!

'After all, it hadn't been entertainment when he'd faced Barty Crouch Junior at the Tonks' house, life or death, not just messing around. Ron and Hermione knew it. They'd been at Malfoy Manor. They—' ─ yikes, when did harry become such a debby downer?... jk, they really ought to send him to therapy asap.

'including but not limited to helping to deliver him straight to the cold hands of Lord Voldemort himself, who had stripped his mother's charm from Harry's blood and left him with nothing but a shadow for protection.' ─ genuinely a diabolical thing to do to your school rival btw 😭

'He's nothing, Harry told himself. Nothing, compared to Riddle, compared to Mordred, compared to Voldemort.' ─ icr if harry's already said this before and i've commented on it or if i'm tripping but tom's gotta be so big-headed bc harry's worst enemies were just him but at different stages of his life lmaoo

"running and hiding… there goes Saint Potter… the great big scary shadow…" ─ why do they keep trying the guy with uncontrollable powers? does everyone have a death wise? why do they keep provoking the unstable teen???

"I heard rumours that something like that was stolen, you know, back in the day. Some students have a touch of the—" He lowered his voice "—sticky fingers. All sorts of things go missing. You may not be quite aware of this, Harry, but there's something of a black market trade in jewellery, trinkets… anything that might be aritficed or enchanted. A good deal of it ends up in Knockturn Alley, in that ghastly Borgin and Burkes.' — please, please, let him actually be referring to tom. magpie tom !! (who was taking revenge)

'a gaggle of admirers crowding Blaise Zabini' — genuinely so obsessed with this guy, i need more of zabini (and his hot mum tbh)

'But as she came closer and closer and into the light, it became clear that she was face to face with T. M. Riddle.' — honestly, you'd think he had his own version of the marauders map where he could track ruby (and harry) with the way he constantly pops up.

'however it was that he convinced the door to let him in without the common room password' ─ on one hand i feel like all the direct descendents of the founders should be able to enter their common rooms easily, i think tom has the advantage of being a parselmouth which feels like a master key for slytherin.

'He was brilliant at purposefully not getting the hint.' ─ for today's topic of the day, is he autistic or is he just a fucking arse? (definitely the latter)

'Tee, his voice lilting with offence into an almost childish cadence' ─ i can't believe the amount of times he's forced me to call him a petulant child-

'The demotion must be wounding his fragile ego' ─ oh no, he's lost his position as albus' personal assistant 😞

'Why did Lily Evans seem to enchant him so? There was a shadowy, romantic, tragic glamour to her, but the appeal was, for Ruby, composed of a lot of things Tee didn't know about, or at least, she didn't think he did.' ─ i know we're meant to say it's the whole 'she used dark/forbidden magic which defeated the big bad dark lord and that's why he's fascinated' but idk, i think we can accredit it to his attraction to the women in the potter family (that he indeed does not know about), he's still a teenage boy, give him a hottie + a baddass witch and he's scratching his head not knowing how to proceed 😭 (i mean come on, first euphemia, now lily... it's his mummy issues clearly bursting through and probably stems from him thinking merope was a weak witch as opposed to lily and whatnot)

"Nice night for a walk," he said in a not-quite-mocking tone. "It's not very dark outside. Full moon." ─ you jinxed it, you idiot.

'So that's what counts for a patrol, thought Ruby. Anything could be going on, and they wouldn't notice — we're right under their noses, for one. ' ─ the main trio as so bitter, i truly love how they think very similarly (also ruby, you gotta give it up bbg...)

'"We?" asked Harry, but she didn't bother justifying herself, especially since he was following, anyway.' ─ wait this is such a fun combo, i feel like we're more likely to see ruby with harry's besties but never the other way around, let harry be one of the girls !! (he would've fit in with them when they were fangirling over cedric lol)

i literally finished reading that chapter with my jaw DROPPED. my poor lavender ugh. i was wondering how the werewolf plot was going to fit in to the plot heavily... it's sm worse for my girl lav bc she's the type to care about her looks (and not in a bad way, she just loves to dress up and be girly and cutesy and i love that for her and i'm like her in that regard hello?). i was literally hoping that she only got scratched like bill but no, she's a werewolf now 😫 my shayla... it's going to be so tough for her, ruby should've killed him smh. also, where tf is their glorified babysitter who's meant to look out for them and make sure they're not in a "be seriously injured or die" situation?? he ought to be fired for showing up at unnecessary times and being nowhere to be seen in desperate times 🙄

yikes, when did harry become such a debby downer?... jk, they really ought to send him to therapy asap.

The Plot if Hogwarts had a school psychologist:

genuinely a diabolical thing to do to your school rival btw 😭

Malfoy got back home from Durmstrang, saw what Nott was up to when he was away, and decided to rise to the challenge.

icr if harry's already said this before and i've commented on it or if i'm tripping but tom's gotta be so big-headed bc harry's worst enemies were just him but at different stages of his life lmaoo

Yes! He ended up in a duel with Barty Crouch Junior and rated him as below Tom. (Tom will also happily take the free ego boost).

why do they keep trying the guy with uncontrollable powers?

Draco Malfoy does indeed have a death wish. I once watched a video of a guy taunting street monkeys only to make this face 😧 when one of them finally smacked him. That's Malfoy in a Muggle AU.

please, please, let him actually be referring to tom. magpie tom !! (who was taking revenge)

Slughorn still has no idea of the extent of Tom's nonviolent crimes (grand larceny) nor his affinity for grudges, I'm afraid. kid!Riddle successfully pulled the wool.

genuinely so obsessed with this guy, i need more of zabini (and his hot mum tbh)

It's a crime he isn't mentioned until HBP. The dark comedy potential of Mrs. Zabini is sadly unexplored. Did she actually kill all her husbands or just have a fucked-up birth zodiac chart (or whatever it's called). Who knows?

honestly, you'd think he had his own version of the marauders map where he could track ruby (and harry) with the way he constantly pops up.

Probably has Find My iPhone installed on their wands or something

Hey that's actually a really good idea for a spell... I don't think there's a canonical tracking spell (maybe that would be too OP?)

i think tom has the advantage of being a parselmouth which feels like a master key for slytherin.

^^^ I like to think the 'no non-Slytherin student has entered the common room for seven centuries' is BS. I mean no one knew when Harry and Ron infiltrated it, so I assume it's happened before, multiple 🤷🏾‍♀️

I'm imagining Harry yelling LET ME IN! in Parseltongue and banging on the door at 2 am now.

is he autistic or is he just a fucking arse? (definitely the latter)

Definitely the latter (but also why not both?)

oh no, he's lost his position as albus' personal assistant 😞

He fucked around at Malfoy Manor, and now he's finding (and crashing) out.

i know we're meant to say it's the whole 'she used dark/forbidden magic which defeated the big bad dark lord and that's why he's fascinated' but idk, i think we can accredit it to his attraction to the women in the potter family (that he indeed does not know about), he's still a teenage boy, give him a hottie + a baddass witch and he's scratching his head not knowing how to proceed 😭 (i mean come on, first euphemia, now lily... it's his mummy issues clearly bursting through and probably stems from him thinking merope was a weak witch as opposed to lily and whatnot)

Ruby rn: stop havng a crush on my mum, it's weird

I think it can be Both. I've always found the Lily/Merope as character foils idea interesting, plus Diary!Riddle in the Chamber to Harry and his poorly-disguised jealousy like 'your mother died to save you? That's cool, that's cool. Mine just died I guess'

ruby, you gotta give it up bbg...

She really does. Embarrassing at this point tbh.

i feel like we're more likely to see ruby with harry's besties but never the other way around, let harry be one of the girls !!

^^^ It's a lot easier to have Ruby organically involved with Ron and Hermione since they're usually part of the main plot, but getting Harry together with Lavender + Parvati required them getting their own subplot.

(he would've fit in with them when they were fangirling over cedric lol)

He would indeed

it's sm worse for my girl lav bc she's the type to care about her looks (and not in a bad way, she just loves to dress up and be girly and cutesy and i love that for her and i'm like her in that regard hello?)

This is why I thought it was so interesting that she got attacked by Greyback in the very very end of DH (but we don't get to see the aftermath/know if she died, so it's kind of zero payoff).

At some point I went down a whole rabbithole of scars in canon and which characters canonically have them and literally none of the female characters have scars which I thought was interesting, maybe not necessarily a conscious choice, but still interesting. It then got me thinking about how when male characters have scars, including facial scars, it's seen as cool and glamorous (like Anakin's eye/eyebrow scar in ROTS), and can even makes the character more unique and enhancing their aesthetics, whereas very few female lead or even supporting characters in media have scars (esp facial scars).

I was especially thinking about after Bill got attacked by Greyback and Fleur said something like 'he's still handsome even with the scars' and I thought, hey, Lavender can still be pretty with the scars. I don't think people should be afraid to give female characters scars (I think they are, even subconsciously). They can still be themselves!

ruby should've killed him smh

She was this 👌 close

where tf is their glorified babysitter who's meant to look out for them and make sure they're not in a "be seriously injured or die" situation?? he ought to be fired for showing up at unnecessary times and being nowhere to be seen in desperate times 🙄

Tom Riddle is a wizard gifted with many talents, including a natural mastery of malicious compliance. (He was actually in his room, sulking and scheming and wallowing in self-pity/plotting his next book heist from the Hogwarts library).

[forever1kay]

[chapter ten: i don’t hate it when you’re around]

summary: in which you give tsukki a taste of his own medicine! and—you guessed it—he hates it.

Quick note: (4/7/25) so in chapter eight, y/n mentioned her mom that she’d love to go back home to. that made me realize, i haven’t really touched on her past much and I wanted to take the opportunity to do that this time. it may feel a little random because i never hinted at doing this before, but i hope y’all enjoy it nonetheless. happy reading!

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You step into the music store, the familiar bell above the door chiming your arrival, and immediately wish you had a do-over button. You’re already twenty minutes late—thank you, coffee run—and the person waiting behind the counter is not the warm, squishy Maura you’re used to.

It’s a girl—no, woman—with glossy dark curls tucked into a clip and sharp brown eyes that scan you up and down like you’re some kind of uninvited guest. She’s wearing black slacks, a fitted turtleneck, and the kind of heels that say she means business.

You clear your throat and hold up the drinks as a peace offering. “Hey! Sorry I’m late, I stopped to grab some coffee for Maura and me—”

“Maura’s not here,” the woman interrupts, arms crossing. Her tone is dry, unimpressed.

“Oh…” You blink. “I intern here with Maura. I just thought she’d want her usual. My name is—”

“I know who you are,” she cuts in again, though this time it’s a little softer. “I’m Lana. Her granddaughter.”

You nod quickly, still awkwardly holding up the tray of drinks like a sacrificial lamb. “Yes, Lana. I’ve heard so much about you. It’s so nice to meet you. Is everything okay? Is Maura alright?”

Something flickers in her eyes. She doesn’t answer right away, but her posture loosens a little. “She had to take a trip,” Lana says vaguely, then adds with a dry smile, “She didn’t give many details.”

You frown. “Oh. I’m sorry to hear that. I brought her coffee ‘cause I figured she’d need it. I guess you can have it, if you want.”

Lana looks at the cup like it might explode, then finally lets out a short laugh. Her shoulders relax. “Thanks. I guess caffeine is a universal peace treaty.”

You offer a small smile, encouraged. “Ooh, I like a girl who knows what she wants.”

That actually earns a real laugh from her, sharp and quick, before she places her coffee down and clasps her hands together. “Good. Then you’ll love this next part. I’m sorry to shake up this firm foundation you and Kei have built here, but here’s how it’s gonna go today.”

You blink, suddenly feeling like you’re in a boardroom instead of a music store. You stand up straight to fix your posture.

“I know my grandmother tends to let you two do near anything you want—walk around, talk, pretend to alphabetize things that are already alphabetized—”

You gasp. “Someone has been watching the security footage.”

She grins unapologetically. “You’re right. But don’t worry. I’m not mad at it. I get it. Maura’s all warmth and vibes and let-the-music-guide-you energy. Me? I’m a little more structure and efficiency.”

You nod slowly. “So… less camp counselor and more drill sergeant?”

Lana adjusts a curl that has fallen astray, smirking. “Something like that. So here’s what we’re gonna do today. You’re gonna handle the front counter and help customers with basic inquiries. Kei is gonna take the back, inventory check, and clean the practice rooms. I expect notes and numbers. Not vibes.”

You glance toward the back where you know Tsukishima is already lurking, probably pretending not to listen but definitely listening.

You clap your hands together. “Whew, girl. You don’t play.”

“Not even a little.” Lana smiles like a shark. “Now get to work.”

You do a little mock salute before heading to the counter, half-excited and half-dreading whatever awkward silence is about to pass between you and Tsukishima for the few eight hours. But one thing’s for sure—you kind of like Lana. Even if she scares you just a little bit.

After being split up at the internship, you spend the day working on your tasks without your usual chatter. No teasing. No comments. No texts. When you pass each other in the hall, you barely acknowledge him. When he glares at you, you shrug and keep walking.

He tells himself he doesn’t care.

Then, during your lunch break, he finds himself in the break room at the same time as you. You’re sitting at a small table, scrolling through your phone, not even sparing him a glance. He tenses, grabbing his food and sitting down across from you without thinking.

You still don’t say anything.

After a full minute of silence, he clicks his tongue. “What, are you mad at me?”

You finally look up, tilting your head in feigned confusion. “No?”

“Then why are you acting weird?”

You smirk, leaning forward on your elbows. “Oh, you mean I’m not being nice? Not smiling and joking around? Not saying hi when I see you?”

And man, does that taunting look you give him do something to—

Pause. He mentally reprimands himself, shaking his head to remove the unwanted thoughts.

Tsukishima frowns. “What’s your point?”

You lean back, crossing your arms. “Doesn’t feel so good, huh?”

He glares, opening his mouth to snap back—but only a scoff comes out. As much as he hates to admit it, you’re right. He doesn’t like it. Not at all.

And that pisses him off even more.

You place your beats onto your head, hoping to invoke a further reaction from Tsukishima. Instead of giving you the one he wants, he suddenly decides anywhere is a better place to be than here. He grabs his sandwich and his drink and leaves without another word.

You snicker, grabbing your phone to enter your groupchat.

The sun’s dipping below the horizon by the time your shift ends, casting a soft amber glow across the parking lot. You push the heavy glass door open with one hand, the other tightening your grip on your keys. You hear footsteps behind you, and you know exactly who it is without even turning around.

You’re halfway to your car when his voice slices through the quiet.

“Wait. Fuck—”

You stop in your tracks.

He jogs up to you, and before you can pull open the car door, he plants his hand against the frame, effectively caging you in. Your back hits the cool metal, and now he’s standing so close you can practically hear the way he swallows.

Your eyes narrow, arms crossing.

“Well, come on,” you say, biting back a smirk. “Spit it out.”

He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, eyes dropping to the pavement like it’s the only safe place to look.

You roll your eyes. “Do you have something to tell me?”

Silence.

Then finally, quietly—

“Stop acting this way.”

You tilt your head. “What? You don’t like it?”

His jaw ticks. His hands are still on either side of you, but now they curl slightly, gripping the doorframe like it’s the only thing grounding him. He glances up, just enough to meet your eyes for half a second before saying:

“…It’s not you.”

You lift a brow. “Well, it’s you.”

That seems to land. His face twists with something complicated—shame, frustration, something else he probably hasn’t named yet. He exhales like he’s surrendering.

“Okay. I get it.”

You watch him. You don’t say anything at first, just take in the slight slump in his shoulders, the twitch of his fingers, the way his eyes dart away again like looking at you too long is dangerous.

And then, softer now: “Look at me.”

His gaze flickers back to yours, reluctantly.

But he holds it.

And that’s how you know he’s serious. Because Kei Tsukishima doesn’t hold eye contact unless he wants to. Unless it matters.

“Tell me,” you whisper.

He doesn’t flinch this time. His voice is almost gentle when it comes out:

“I don’t hate having you around.”

You blink. And despite the sarcasm, the short words, the usual emotional constipation—you see it. All of it. It’s right there, swimming in the amber of his eyes. His truth.

And then there’s the blush—soft and slow, blooming over his cheekbones like he’s embarrassed he even said it.

You grin. You can’t help it.

“Well, it only took a week of emotional warfare and psychological torment, but we got there,” you tease.

He groans, his head dropping slightly as the tiniest smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth.

“Tch,” he mutters, feigning irritation, but the way he looks down at you is anything but cold.

There’s a pause. That kind of pause. Like gravity’s shifting. Like the air between you is pulling tighter. He leans in just a little—eyes locked, mouth parted—and your heartbeat kicks into high gear.

Then—

“OKAYYYYYYYY, YEAHHH, NICE.”

You both whip around to see Lana hanging out of her car window in the parking lot, clapping.

“Not tryna kill the moment, just had to acknowledge that! Love the development!” she calls out, then adds with a wink, “Just don’t get locked in. The gate shuts in like two hours. And I promise I am not coming back to rescue y’all from your cars in the morning. K byeeee!”

And with that, she peels out of the lot like she didn’t just completely wreck the vibe.

You and Tsukishima stand there for a beat in stunned silence before laughing. Really laughing. You shake your head, pressing a hand over your face.

“She’s insane,” you say.

“She’s a menace,” he agrees.

He steps back finally, giving you space to open your door. His hand lingers on the frame a little longer before dropping to his side.

You slide into the driver’s seat and shut the door gently. When you glance in your rearview mirror, he’s still standing there, hands in his pockets, watching you drive off.

Bonus:

You stare at your phone a little longer after your friends’ chaos fades into silence. The last bubble in the group chat glows bright against the darkness of the ceiling in your room, but you’re not laughing anymore.

Because your fingers aren’t hovering over their thread anymore.

They’re over hers.

Ma.

Still saved plain. Still pinned first.

She’s texted a few times over the past year—short, hopeful messages that always landed like pebbles at your feet. You saw them. You always saw them. You just never knew how to respond.

You told yourself you were busy. That your life was too heavy, too chaotic, too far away to reach back. But the truth is simpler and more shameful:

You didn’t answer because you didn’t know if she wanted you anymore.

She encouraged you to go, sure. But that last month in Florida, before you left, was nothing but tight-lipped mornings and awkward dinners. She cried when she thought you weren’t looking. You pretended not to notice. You figured she resented you for leaving her alone.

John Michael had already gone with your father to Japan when the divorce split everything down the middle. He didn’t look back.

And when you left, too—when you packed your bags and booked a one-way ticket to take care of a grandmother who wasn’t your responsibility—you convinced yourself it was noble. Necessary.

You never once thought about how it left her completely alone. Two kids gone. A husband even further.

She tried to hold it together. Tried to smile through it. But you remember how she didn’t hug you when you left. And how you didn’t hug her either.

You both stood in the doorway, hearts aching and hands at your sides.

And then you left.

And she let you.

You never figured out who abandoned who.

You exhale softly, your head resting against your soft pillow as you stare at her name. Guilt prickles at your skin, slow and creeping like ivy.

But tonight, for the first time, something inside you—small and bruised but stubborn—wants to stop pretending that silence feels better than vulnerability.

So you open the thread.

You type slow.

Your thumb hovers. For a moment, you almost delete it. Almost pretend the guilt doesn’t burn. Almost tuck your feelings away like you always do.

But you don’t.

You hit send. And even though the message is small, the ache in your chest eases—just a little.

Just enough.

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[maethinks]

Friendship pt. 2

This is a continuation to something I posted before, called friendship. So here it goes

Aradhya ticked another day off the calendar hanging on her wall and sighed. Only one month left before she went and started a new journey. University. It felt like a big thing- it was a big thing, something which would alter her life forever. 

She turned away from the calendar and walked towards her bed. It wasn't that late but she didn't have anything to do so she decided to sleep. She was doing her skincare when she heard a thump, she poked her head out of the bathroom to see, but nothing was out of the ordinary. She squinted her eyes in suspicion as she returned to what she was doing. There was another thump now, she cursed and left her skincare in between, washed her hands and decided to investigate.

She stood in her room now, hands on her hips, as she looked around. Then, there it was again, it was coming from the balcony, her heart skipped a beat as she thought of all the possibilities. Could there be a cat? Or some other animal? A thief? A MURDERER? She pushed the thoughts down and walked towards the balcony.

She opened the door to a pebble hitting her right on the head, and screamed, then realised that other people lived there, put her hand on her mouth and screamed again, the sound now muffled. She looked down and saw Adi waving at her with an unwavering smile and cursed out loud. 

“What are you doing here?”, she asked him, while closing the balcony door, hoping nobody in her neighbourhood woke up. 

“Come down and I’ll tell you”, he said, gesturing to the ladder on the side of her balcony which had been there since the first time she had snuck out to meet him at the stupid age of 13.

“No”, she said simply, crossing her arms. She probably looked stupid and not intimidating with her big shirt, shorts, fluffy bunny slippers and the cat ear headband she used to push her hair out of her face while she did her skincare, but she didn’t care.

“Oh come on, I came all the way here and you’re not even gonna ask why?”, he said.

“I did ask, you told me to come down, and I said no.”, she deadpanned. “You think you can just come here at 10 pm, throw pebbles at my balcony door, and expect to not re-enact the Romeo and Juliet scene?

“Oh my god”, he said, putting his head in his hands. “I’m pretty sure Romeo and Juliet didn’t have this scene because balconies weren’t even invented back then”, as always correcting her about theatre facts.

“Well, you know the trope, so come on, make your own lines”, she said, getting in position.

“Ugh, why are we friends?”, he asked but shook his head and cleared his throat.

“Aradhya, Oh Aradhya, let down your hair…, oh wait that’s from Rapunzel”, he said, confusion visible in his eyes.

Ara touched her hair which almost reached her shoulders, and decided to control her laughter.

“Acha, arz kiya hai...”

“Irshaad”, she said, impressed by the dedication.

“Kuch karo fikar mujh deewane ki, dhum hai fir bahar aane ki”, he said with a bow.

“That’s from Layla and Majnun”, she said, remembering the time he used to make her remember his favourite quotes.

“You know I’m not good at impromptu stuff and this bow is very uncomfortable so if you would please hurry up and say something back, that would be amazing, thanks”, he said, his voice strained from the bow.

“I love you to the moon and to Saturn”, she said in the same loving tone and did a little bow for good measure.

“That’s literally a Taylor Swift lyric”, he said, now standing straight.

“I thought there were no restraints on poetry”, she said, as she went inside her room, got her phone, and keys, took the hairband off and put on her shoes.

“Well technically but-”, he started as she climbed down the ladder, but she stopped him with the finger.

“Shall we go now?”, he asked with the same mock bow as before, she slapped him on the head and ran away laughing as he tried to catch up.

…

“Now tell me, what made you think of me at this time?”, she asked him as they walked.

“Well, since you’re going to England to live with the colonizers, which was a joke for legal reasons. As I was saying, I’m going to make this your most memorable month, starting with today.”

“Fair enough, she said, “where are we going though?”

“Aradhya”, he faced her now, the excitement visible in his eyes, “We are going to get tattoos”

“Whoa whoa wait”, she stopped him there, “this is a big deal and well I haven’t asked my parents.

“Well, you turned 18 last Friday, so technically you don’t need parental consent, besides, didn’t you literally ask them that day?”, he asked.

“You’re right, and I have wanted to get a tattoo since forever.”, she thought about it, and remembered asking her parents about it last week, they had been cool about it and said she could get it done now that she was 18. 

“Well, any ideas then?”, she asked him as they started walking once again.

“Oh yes, I have a Vision with a capital V”, he said waving his hands around, as if he was trying to make her see what he had in mind with invisible diagrams in the air.

“So I’m gonna go in there, and get a SpongeBob tattoo on my ass and guess which quote I’m gonna use”, he wiggled his eyebrows at her.

She laughed and said “Oh my god, please don’t tell me you’re for real”

“I’m serious, come on guess”, he told her but he was laughing too.

“The smell one”, she guessed.

“BINGO”, he shouted, and decided to quote the line, “‘Did you smell it? That smell. A kind of smelly smell. The smelly smell that smells...smelly.’, is literally the most iconic thing Mr. Krabs said actually.”

They doubled over with laughter and when they finally calmed down, they talked about how Adi was definitely not doing that.

“You know what we should do?, she said, “We should not tell the other what we’re getting and do a grand reveal later. I think this is both a terrible and a great idea, what do you think?”

“Hmm, let’s see how this goes”, he said as they entered the tattoo parlour.

That’s how an hour later, they were both outside the tattoo place with a bandage covering their new tattoos, eager to see what the other got.

“So how are we doing this, do we count to three?”, Adi asked.

“Let’s just ‘rip the bandage off’”, she said, trying for some humour.

“That was so lame”, he told her and said, “Ooh okay wait, how about we take each other’s bandage off?”

“At the same time though”, she told him.

Ara had decided to get her tattoo above her collarbone, and Adi had gone for the side of the neck. They closed their eyes and took the bandages off.

“1…2…3”, Ara counted, and they opened their eyes.

“Is that-”, they both started, shocked.

“You go first”, Ara said.

“Can I touch it?”, he asked

“Go on”, she said.

He touched the tattoo and her eyes fluttered close. He breathed out and looked at her. “Please tell me this is what I think it is”, he said.

“Remember when you took that Taylor Swift lyric literally and drew actual stars around the scar I got from a glass on this same place? Well, I took a picture of them at that time so I had it with me right now.”, she told him. The scar was still there, but now there were permanent stars around it, all of different shapes and sizes, they looked like the night sky.

“Well you had just introduced me to her and even now after all these years, I’m telling you, Folklore is her best album yet but you’re still stuck up on Speak now.”, he told her.

“I will not tolerate this slander towards my purple heaven”, she faked being offended. 

“Well, your turn now”, he said, getting back on the topic.

“Can I touch it?”, she asked.

“Of course, why would you even ask?”, he said.

“Well you asked, so I thought I better ask too”, she said.

She touched the crescent moon, her drawing as familiar to her as the back of her hand. The moon had two heart-shaped craters, and filling the gap and making it a full moon was a daisy, her favourite flower.

“Didn’t I draw this for that campaign back in 9th grade?” she asked. 

“Yes well, even if the campaign didn’t go well, I loved the design, so even I took a photo of it at that time.

“Our minds”, Ara said, tears welling in her eyes.

“Hey hey hey, no crying”, he told her, but his eyes were full of tears too.

“Hug?”, Ara croaked out.

They enveloped each other in a hug, it was times like these when Adi was grateful they were almost the same height because he got to put his armour down and feel safe in her arms. She traced circles on the small of his back, just like he had months ago.

When they were done crying, they broke apart at each other with bloodshot eyes. Ara took his hands in hers and started to say something but Adi beat her to it.

“The moon might find its sun someday”, he whispered.

“And the stars might find their galaxy”, she whispered back, closing her eyes.

“But they’ll never forget”, he continued.

“The universe they built”, she opened her eyes now, holding his gaze with hers.

“Together”, they whispered at the same time. 

They stood there in silence, looking at each other. This lasted for 5 long seconds and then-

Laughter. Incoherent, deranged laughter.

“Why are we so cheesy, oh my god”, Adi said, tears streaming down his face as he laughed.

Ara was doubled over laughing, clutching her stomach, it was starting to hurt now with the way she could not stop laughing.

They calmed down, and though it took 3 tries, they were walking back to her house now, infectious smiles on their faces. 

Somewhere in the way, Adi slowed down, the smile fading from his face. They stopped at a streetlight. “You know, maybe the stars won’t find their galaxy, maybe- maybe they're better off alone”, he said, his face serious now.

“I know”, Ara looked at him softly, understanding visible in her eyes. “And that’s absolutely fine, so don’t let anyone tell you otherwise”, she hugged him again as he closed his eyes and let himself feel safe again.