#the conversation was in the past but she had forgotten about it until now. the dokkaebi king had warned her she would die...

[lee-hakhyun]

hsy also had a conversation with the 1863rd dokkaebi king/fourth wall before dying. ill need a little more time to comb through that

[rose-pearls]

The perils of love

Summary: being in love with Luke seemed to be a bad idea as you realise that he doesn't seem to be interested. But as you get ready to move on from love entirely your father decides to appear and two people fall for you.

Main Taglist : @avada-kedavra-bitch-187, @nyx2021, @thestarspangledcaptain, @kmc1989 (open)

Part 2

Luke Castellan, everyone knew him at camp either for his sword skills or just his kind smiles for every camper that walked into the Hermes cabin. You had fallen for him the moment you met him, sweet brown eyes and a kind smile had you into a puddle. 

You had been twelve, wandering around the Hermes cabin, waiting desperately for your parent to claim you but the days went by, and you still were there. The little girls crush however didn’t went by but grew stronger every day you saw the boy who slowly turned into a man that had all the girls going crazy over him.  

He had been kind to you but there was always a look that you couldn’t decipher, until today that was.

“So, where is your number one fan Luke?”, you hear Chris say in a teasing tone and after a moment you hear Chris say your name, as if to make it clear it was you. 

“I don’t know and frankly I don’t have the time to care right now,” Luke says after letting out a sigh, but you felt your chest tighten at the words. Chris snorts at the words and you don’t expect what he says next.

“You know that there is a betting pool as to when the both of you are going to date,” you don’t know how Luke reacts, as you are practically one with the wall, but you hear him snort.

“Please, she is a sweet girl, but I would never date her. I don’t know how to explain it but sometimes she can just be a little-”, he seems to be trying to find his words and as you wait for it you feel tears brimming in your eyes at his previous statement.

“Clingy? I mean she is practically everywhere you are.”, the words are like a bullet to your heart, particularly when you hear Luke agree.

“I know right, I mean I know that she is still part of the Hermes cabin as she hasn’t been claimed yet but still,” you try to blink the tears away, not willing to cry as you hear the words being said by the man you had always looked up to. 

“Maybe she will never be claimed, I mean after three years,” Chris says, and you can hear the grimace in his voice, he says it with such carelessness as if you haven’t been thinking about the same thing every night for the past three years, wondering what was wrong with you.

“We’ll see what happens I guess, but maybe it would be good for her to be in another cabin,” Luke says, he looks like he doesn’t want to talk about it anymore, but Chris adds one last phrase to their conversation.

“Or better for you,” there is a quiet hum of agreement and that is the only thing you need before leaving the cabin quietly, the book that you had come for quickly forgotten.

You knew it was pitiful, the fact that they all seemed to know that you liked the Hermes boy and that they all pitied you for it. Because in the end the boy would never go for you, he had a hundred girls waiting for him and yet here you were hoping for the impossible.

Tears are brimming in your eyes, but you quickly brush them away, not wanting to cry after what had happened, you needed to be strong now. It was time for you to get over that stupid crush and get on with your life, maybe if you trained more your godly parent would finally recognize you and claim you.

“What are you doing here all alone?”, you suddenly hear someone say behind you and you turn around to find Annabeth looking at you with worried eyes.

“Thinking, the lake always seems to sooth me,” you say, the words coming a bit weaker than you intended them too. The girl simply nods at your words before sitting down next to you.

“What about you?”, you quietly ask her, and she lets out a sigh.

“Needed to get out a little bit, I can only strategise so much before going crazy,” she says with a small smile, and you can’t help but smile at her words.

“I’m sure your strategy will be incredible, as always,” you tell her and she simply nods, looking too far into her thoughts.

“Chiron is thinking of splitting up the Hermes cabin,” she suddenly says, and you turn to look at her in surprise.

“Really? How so?”, you can’t help but ask, wondering if this is maybe your chance to get a bit away from a certain Hermes boy.

“He thinks that the unclaimed children and children of minor gods should get the chance to chose in which team they want to be,” she looks conflicted, and you can understand why, this could mean less people for the blue team, her team.

“It seems like a kind gesture,” you can’t help but say and Annabeth nods in agreement.

“It is, although he could’ve said it sooner, now we all need to find a different strategy and we are going crazy with figuring out who will be on our team,” she seems overwhelmed, and you can’t help but put your hand on her shoulder trying to calm her down.

“Hey, calm down it will all be alright,” you tell her, and she takes a deep breath before slowly nodding in agreement.

“I know, I just don’t want to lose,” she says with a pout, and you can finally see the twelve-year-old she really is, that childlike excitement at the thought of capture the flag.

The both of you are deep in thought before her voice breaks the silence, her voice small as she talks.

“Which team are you choosing?”, it was probably a valid question to ask, you were unclaimed so you could technically choose which team to be on, but you just couldn’t get the previous conversation you had heard out of your head.

“The fact that you aren’t saying anything makes me think that you are going to go on the red team,” it seems like she is trying to tease you but there is some sort of hurt woven into her words.

“Don’t take it personally,” you can’t help but say, as much as you would’ve liked staying on the blue team you just couldn’t bear to be that close to Luke after what you had heard. You didn’t know what you would be doing tonight as you were sleeping in the same cabin as always, but he wouldn’t pay attention to you not unless you went to him.

“Did something happened with Luke?”, the carefully asked question makes you look at Annabeth with wide eyes, she had an understanding look in her eyes and you couldn’t help but curse the fact that she was Athena’s daughter.

“Nothing happened, I just realised that maybe I should get to know other people and that maybe it would get me out of my comfort zone,” there are a lot of things unsaid, Annabeth knows it too. Luckily, she doesn’t know of the conversation you had heard, or the fact that the words had cut you deeper than you could’ve ever thought they would. 

“You should probably tell Chiron and the red team, I heard that they were planning a strategy evening to talk about what they were going to do tomorrow,” you try to find anger in Annabeth’s eyes but there is only understanding and a lingering sadness that seems to disappear as you get up.

“Good idea, I will be doing that right now. Good luck on the strategy and don’t drive yourself crazy Annabeth you will do great,” you tell her, and a sweet smile appears on her lips as she nods slowly making you smile at her.

“Don’t be a stranger!”, she yells as you are about to leave, and you turn around to smile at her.

“I won’t!”, she looks reassured at the words before turning back to the water, leaving you to go towards Chiron office. 

--

“A little birdie told me you were on the red team,” you hear someone say and turn around to find Clarisse smirking at you.

“Would that little birdie be Chiron?”, you ask, feeling breathless after trying to stab the dummy about a hundredth time with your sword.

“I don’t reveal my sources princess,” she says with a smirk while you feel your cheeks heat up, you tell yourself it’s because of the work out you just did.

“We have a meeting tonight, after dinner at the Ares cabin,” she says while looking around the rink before picking up a sword.

“I’ll be there,” you tell her, expecting the girl to leave you alone but she just comes closer to you.

“After that there is a movie night and a sleepover, one of the Aphrodite kids managed to convince Chiron to allow it,” the words leave you confused for a moment, how would you even have a movie night with all these people.

“Only a few people are invited for that part,” she clarifies, and you feel breathless at the sight of her warm brown eyes, seemingly forgetting about other brown eyes.

“How come I am invited?”, you can’t help but ask, wondering why the Ares girl suddenly seemed sweet to you when she was practically attacking anyone else. 

“Don’t ask too many questions or you’ll be uninvited princess,” the nickname rolls of her tongue in a way that makes your cheeks go red, once again.

“Fine I’ll stop asking questions and just come with my pajama’s,” you tell her, and a satisfied grin makes his way on her lips.

“Good, now back to serious stuff you were holding your sword the wrong way,” she says like it’s a fact, as if she was pointing out that the sky was blue.

“No, I wasn’t!”, you can’t help but say looking at her with wide eyes.

“Yes, it is, let me help you fix it. I need the best people on my team after all,” you get ready to object but as you feel her get behind you putting her hand over yours on the sword to put your hand correctly you find yourself speechless.

The next hour is spent fighting against each other, but you can’t stop laughing as Clarisse tells you stories of her siblings to try and distract you, which ultimately works as you often end up on your ass. You don’t even seem to notice another pair of brown eyes looking at you, farther away, brows furrowed as he looks at the scene in front of him.

--

“Welcome to the exclusive sleepover,” you hear a soft voice say and you turn around to find Silena smiling kindly at you, two glasses in her hands before giving one to you.

“Thank you, guess they really were exclusive as I had never heard of them before,” you say, feeling a bit nervous as you look around the room only to find Clarisse in a heated discussion with another Aphrodite girl.

“Clarisse only invites people that she trusts or likes, which isn’t many, but she does cares for them,” Silena smiles at the Ares girl in front of you and you can’t help but do the same, Clarisse always seemed to be angry but in that moment, she seemed far more softer.

“I’m glad she trusts me,” you say, somehow missing the look Silena gives you, a look of confusion as you seem to have missed her clue on Clarisse liking you.

Clarisse had always been discrete about it, but Silena had caught her looking at you far too often to not know about it. Her fingers always seemed to itch when you were sword fighting, as if she was itching to get your posture right and to be able to touch you even for just a few seconds. You only had eyes for the Castellan boy, or it seemed that way until yesterday when Chiron told them that you would be on their team. Silena didn’t ask much of her mother but in that moment, she couldn’t help but ask her mother for help to get the both of you together. Clarisse deserved her happy ending and you deserved someone who would love you for who you were.

She gets woken from her thoughts as she hears Clarisse talking to you, there is a nervousness in her gestures as she pushes her hair behind her ear, but you don’t seem to realize it as you recount a story. Silena quietly gets up from her spot, and sends and encouraging look towards Clarisse, who seems a bit more at ease now. 

--

Capture the flag is a mess, more than the last time but you try not to let your mind wander too long. A boy that you think is from the Hephaestus cabin runs towards you and you sigh in annoyance before starting to fight against him, quickly ‘killing’ him and making him surrender. 

You had been tasked with trying to find the blue flag, but it seemed as if Annabeth had found a really good spot this time, and she had put more people in defense. After a while you wondered if you had the wrong hunch until you saw something blue flickering in the reflection of your sword. As you turned to look behind you, you saw the blue flag but weirdly there was no one around it.

“This feels like a trap,” you can’t help but whisper under your breath as you try to hide behind the bushes but a blade against your neck makes you stop in your steps.

“Sorry, but I need to do this,” you hear someone say and you turn around to find a sheepish Percy looking at you.

“Hi Percy,” you say with a kind smile and the boy smiles back, looking reassured that you aren’t mad or swinging your sword at him.

“How are you doing?”, you can’t help but ask, you hadn’t seen him since he had been claimed by Poseidon, but the boy seemed healthy.

“Good, well as good as you can when you learn that your father is one of the big three’s and that your life will be a hellhole,” he says with a roll of his eyes, and you can’t help but snort.

“Still as sarcastic I see,” you can’t help but say while laughing and a sheepish grin forms itself on his lips.

“Can’t help it,” he says while shrugging his shoulders.

“It’s a shame you aren’t on our team,” he says quietly, and you smile softly, the two of you had talked a lot when he had arrived, and you felt close to him.

“Maybe next time,” you tell him and the boy smiles at the answer before asking you a question and the two of you talk for a moment before you hear a battle cry and see the red team suddenly making their way in the clearing, the blue team also appearing.

Percy and you look at each other with wide eyes before you take out your sword.

“If you don’t say anything about this, I won’t say anything,” Percy nods quickly and the both of you break away from the tree you were behind before joining your team as Percy joins his.

An Apollo girl comes running towards you, but you quickly manage to disarm her, others following behind her, but you are in such a haze that you don’t realize how close you are getting to the flag. That is until you are met with a familiar blade, Luke’s. 

The boy is looking at you, slightly out of breath from the fighting just like you.

“You can always abandon now sweetheart,” he says and can’t help but blush slightly at the familiar nickname. 

“No chance Castellan, give me your worst,” this seems to make the boy laugh before he quickly wields his swords, yours clashing against his in familiar movements. You had fought many times against Luke as he had taught you how to fight but you had a new trick up your sleeve that Clarisse had taught you. She had told you that his left leg was his weakness, a bruise that had never really fully recovered. 

So, when the opportunity presents itself, you wield your sword against his left leg, making sure not to hurt him too much. But as you hit the spot Luke winces in pain and his sword leaves his hand. You don’t think at that point and simply continue straight to the flag, whispering a soft ‘sorry’ as you go to the Hermes boy.

You manage to take the flag before seeing Percy coming towards you with his sword, you expect the hit, but he seems transfixed, looking at something above you. There is a loud silence, on a battlefield that was filled with battle cries just a second ago.

Chiron’s voice suddenly comes up, suddenly saying your name.

“Daughter of Zeus, king of the gods,” the rest of his words are lost as you look up, only to see the symbol of Zeus above your head, your father’s symbol.

You didn’t know how to feel, you had been waiting for so long but now that it was happening you just felt lost. Why was he claiming you right now?

“Congratulations! Seems like we are cousins now,” you suddenly hear Percy say, he has a bright smile on his lips, but there is also sadness in his eyes. It takes you a few seconds to understand why, you were now a child of the big three, which meant your life was about to be a hellhole as Percy had said.

“Always though there was something familiar between the two of us,” you try to say in a teasing tone, but it falls flat, Percy nodding in understanding.

As you turn around to look at the rest of the camp you see Luke looking at you with wide brown eyes, as if he was seeing you for the first time. You turn your gaze towards Clarisse who is looking at you with a proud smile and something else that you can’t quite understand.

There was surely a lot of trouble coming but not the one you were expecting, it would be far more complicated than monsters or a father that decided to appear after fifteen years. Matters of the heart were after all the most complicated of all, particularly between a daughter of Zeus, a daughter of Ares and a son of Hermes. 

[favefandomimagines]

Ocean Away (a.b)

Summary: a disastrous fight threatens to end your engagement with Anthony

AN: inspired by “Ocean Away” from the Unofficial Bridgerton Musical. I know it’s a song for Daphne and Simon but I thought it would fit so well with Anthony

This was deeeep in my drafts

He hadn’t meant for it to get so out of hand. What started out as a seemingly normal conversation, ended in both you and Anthony shouting at each other.

“Anthony, I need to ask you something.” You said to your fiancé. “Yes, darling?” He questioned. “When was the last time you saw Siena?” You asked.

The question took him aback. You have never spoken of Siena or his past endeavors. Meaning something must have made you ask him. “What has made you wonder such a thing?” Anthony asked. “Lady Whistledown,” You started before a scoff cut you off.

“Lady Whistledown? You are believing this gossip now.” He spoke. “She has never been wrong before, Anthony. She wrote that she saw you leave the opera house the other evening.” You said.

“An evening where you said you were with Benedict.” You added. “You are above believing these lies, Y/N.” He said. “You have not yet denied it once.” You replied.

Anthony had yet to deny any of what Lady Whistledown wrote and that made you fear that what you had read was true. “I should not have to. We are to be husband and wife in a matter of weeks and you question my fidelity to you.” Anthony said.

“Because two weeks before you proposed to me you were with her. Am I wrong for worrying?” You rebutted. “Your insecurities are not my doing, do not put this blame on me.” He snapped. “My insecurities? I have never been insecure in our engagement until you gave me a reason to be.” You spoke. “This is mad. You believe Lady Whistledown over me?” He asked.

“For goodness sake, Anthony, you have not denied it! There is only one side to this currently and it is hers.” You yelled. “Well, forgive me for not wanting to entertain this any longer.” He said, turning away from you. “You cannot even be honest with me, can you?” You asked quietly.

Anthony could hear the way your voice began to break as his back was to you. He never wanted to hurt you.

Hurting you was at the top of a list of things he never wanted to do to you. And by not claiming his innocence because of his pride, he was hurting you.

“I am going to spend the night in Eloise’s room.” You announced. Anthony still made no attempt to move or even apologize.

You wiped a tear from your face quickly as you headed for the door.

“I sincerely hope you know that Lady Whistledown said I was mad for accepting your proposal. That you would always be the naive and self-sabotaging young viscount. Please do not prove her right.” You spoke before leaving the room.

The problem was Anthony was a prideful man and it would be his pride that would prevent him from doing what was right.

The garden party was supposed to be a celebration of your engagement and it was turning quite sour. Luckily, no one knew of the turmoil that was going on because of the facade you had put on all day.

You spoke to guests, entertained their prodding questions into your wedding and tried to carry on with the afternoon. Your eyes often wandered to Anthony, who was standing stoically with Colin and Benedict. He looked as if he had completely forgotten about your argument as if it meant nothing.

It hurt you, seeing him act so blasè about what had occurred the night prior. That made you fearful because what if he ended the engagement? What if he did not want you anymore?

He had yet to apologize for the way he spoke and the words he said, you had hoped he had just forgotten. Or maybe he was not sorry at all.

You found Eloise and Penelope Featherington, both girls trying to help distract you from your own thoughts.

Eloise was one of your favorite people because of simply how she was unapologetically herself. She was a very funny young woman and that was refreshing in society.

Anthony watched you as you smiled and laughed with his sister by the lake. You were happy after all that happened last night. How could you be happy?

“How can she be smiling? It is as if she realized I am not what she wants.” Anthony spoke aloud. Benedict and Colin looked at one another, neither knowing how to approach the topic.

“Brother, maybe she is trying to be brave. Not let people know she is hurting. They all believe you were with Siena the other evening, she is trying to show it is all a lie. Even if she does not believe it herself.” Benedict said.

Anthony continued to watch you, your eyes never once meeting his gaze. He knew he needed to apologize to you. Tell you that he was never with Siena and the moment he realized you were who he wanted, he had not seen her.

There was a moment where he lost you in the crowd of people. He did not know where you went off to and that worried him more so than his pride.

Anthony started frantically looking around the grounds for you, weaving through the crowd until he spotted you sitting on the bench under the willow tree.

You had always loved that spot and often times Anthony would catch you reading there. It was also the spot you were sitting in when the two of you confessed your love for each other for the first time.

He approached you silently and sat down a few inches away from you.

“I remember the first time I saw you. You had just arrived at the Queen’s ball with your mother and it felt as if time stopped. There was nothing, that tempted me to take my eyes off of you. I knew then that I wanted you and only you. You made me believe that marriage could be for love and for nothing else.” Anthony spoke.

Him recounting the night of your debut made your eyes well up with tears.

“I am afraid. I am afraid that you will want her again and I cannot go through that kind of pain. I love you with everything that I am and if I was not enough for you, it would be the death of me.” You confessed.

Anthony looked at you with slightly wide eyes, never having heard your concerns before. He blamed his past behavior on your fears knowing it was not an easy feat to love someone with his reputation.

He moved closer to you and took your hand in his. “I am also afraid.” He spoke. It was then you looked at him with eyes wide, never having heard the man you love he so vulnerable.

“I am afraid that I will not make you happy. That one day you will wake up and feel like some other man could make you happier.” He continued. “I do not think there is another man in this lifetime who will make me as happy as you do.” You said.

“I have not nor will I ever, see Siena again. You are the woman I love, the woman I cannot stop thinking about. It will always be you.” Anthony said. “She has always had such a strong hold on you, forgive me for being skeptical.” You muttered.

“Now the only woman who has a strong hold on me is you. And that is how it will stay.” He replied. “Do you promise?” You asked. “I promise.” He spoke without hesitation.

Anthony took your hand in his and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I love you, Y/N. I always have and I always will.” He said. “I love you too.” You spoke. “And I’m sorry.” You added. “You have nothing to be sorry for, my love.” Anthony replied.

“Your mama might think we have run off and abandoned our own celebration.” You commented. “That does sound rather tempting.” Anthony teased.

You stood up and held your hand out for his, which he took with a smile. If you would have told Anthony Bridgerton that he was about to get married and to the love of his life, he would have called you mad. But here he was, and couldn’t have been happier.

[milswrites]

Hobbies Part 7.

~Azriel X Reader~

Summary: In an attempt to keep Azriel away from Elain, Rhys sends him on a sabbatical to the Day Court. With a lot more free time on his hands Azriel needs to find something to keep him occupied. Unfortunately he meets Y/N who has the annoying habit of not staying away. Can she teach him that there’s more to life than he thought?

Grumpy!Azriel X Sunshine!Reader

Series masterlist

Warnings: Angst and sadness :( Panic attacks

This was all wrong.

Cassian roared with laughter at a joke Feyre had told, his large hand beating against the table in glee causing the glasses to shake and plates to clatter. Rhysand was conversing eagerly with Amren and Mor, eyes twinkling above the rim of his glass of wine which was raised to his lips. Even Nesta had a content smile across her face as she bounced Nyx upon her lap as he gurgled happily at this action. And Elain. Elain was attempting to chat with Azriel about how her garden has been coming along since he left.

But Azriel felt like a ghost in his own home. He felt as if he was stuck in purgatory. His perfect life he’d always wished for was in the palm of his hands. Here surrounded by his family, past transgressions forgotten as he was able to talk to Elain again.

This was all wrong.

This was Ariel’s first full night back in his home court. Once Rhysand had made his presence known he had winnowed Azriel away instantly, eager for his brother to return home. The promise of Ariel’s belongings being brought to him the next day on his lips.

Shocked at the sudden reappearance of his brother Azriel didn’t know what to do or what to say. Wanting to give him time to readjust after being away Rhys had sent him to bed. To his bed, in his home. It was all too surreal to Azriel, as if it was all some dream he couldn’t wake up from. Only he couldn’t decide which was reality, Day or Night?

He had spent most of the following day dissociated and disoriented. Training with his brothers was a complete fail, he lacked both in focus and in presence. Cassian joked that it was all that Day Court air messing with his brain. Azriel laughed along with him but was sure it was due to the hole in his heart that felt like a missing limb.

Which is what led him to where he was now. At his celebratory return dinner with him family. He wondered if everyone there knew the true reason why he had been gone. Would they have been celebrating his return then? Or would they have let Rhysand leave him at the Day Court? Ashamed of their friend who had ignored Rhys’s wishes.

The Day court. The place Azriel hadn’t wanted to go to in the first place was now the place he found himself longing for. Y/N. Azriel’s stomach churned at the thought of her. What must she think? Azriel felt nauseous at the thought of Y/N waiting for the male at his door. Waiting for someone who would never come.

They had shared the most perfect night of his life, and then Azriel had left. It wasn’t until the morning after he returned back to his home that Azriel came back to reality long enough to find Rhys and begged him to let him go back. Rhysand must have thought it was some form of a mental breakdown after being separated from his family and entering a self-imposed form of isolation. He was afraid Azriel had grown too used to being alone.

Ever the concerned brother, Rhysand had gripped his shoulder and told Azriel that he was sorry. That he should never have sent him away and that he wouldn’t take control over his life again. Azriel had dismissed his brothers apology and asked once more to go back to the Day Court.

Rhys had assured him that he told Helion about his departure and how he wouldn’t return and then urged Azriel to go to training. To forget about the past and move on.

So now Azriel was here, surrounded by his family. Yet feeling more alone than he ever has. He stared at Elain next to him. Sweet Elain, who had worn her blue dress for the occasion of his return. Yet all Azriel could think was how much he wished for it to be Y/N in the dress he’s sure she made with him as inspiration.

“And then I planted some blue violets which just look wonderful next to-… Azriel? Are you ok?” Elain’s excitement at describing the new additions to her garden faded as she noticed the death-like look on Azriel’s face. Her descriptions reminding him of just last night when he had shared the Day Court garden with Y/N, the two admiring its existence. The memory he had sealed in his mind forever of Y/N surrounded by the vibrant life of the garden threatened to bring tears to his eyes.

His lack of an answer to Elain’s question had caused everyone else at the table to stop talking at look his way. A worried Rhysand tapped on his mental shields but Azriel refused to lower his wall, afraid if he were to allow Rhysand’s claws into his mind they’d tarnish his memories of Y/N forever.

Not wanting to be here, Azriel stood abruptly. His chair falling backwards onto the ground with a thud and drink spilling across the table. Red wine staining the pure white of the table cloth. Cassian who’s face was full of concern, also jumped to his feet and made to move towards his brother.

But Azriel not wanting the comfort that his family would offer him allowed his shadows to absorb him. They surrounded his body like a thick black cloak and swept him away. Taking their master back to where he needed to be. Back to the Day Court. The last picture his eyes saw was of his fearful family staring back at him, anxious for their friend and brother who did not return from his trip the same.

~~~~~

Azriel appeared at her door. Palms sweating and heart racing. It had only been a day. How mad could she be? Sure he should brace himself for a slap, he expected that she would even scream at him a little before she’d grow her beautiful smile back and invite him inside as she did last night. Jokingly berating him for his disappearing act.

He’d be able to apologise for the confusion, explain what had happened and how his brother had whisked him away. But all would be forgiven because Y/N would understand. She would be able to read Azriel just as she had from the moment she met him and tell he was being honest. He’d even tell her that he loved her, just so she knew how much she meant to him.

Hope in his chest, and excitement at seeing the women who had broken down his walls, Azriel knocked and waited.

Nothing.

Nothing was fine, the hour was late and Y/N was likely asleep. He debated sending his shadows inside to seek her out, to gently caress her arm and brush her face until she woke and felt the excitement of seeing them. That their presence meant that Azriel was here and she would rush to the door and into his waiting arms.

But Azriel was interrupted by a little old woman clearing her throat next to him, stopping his eyes from burning a hole in Y/N’s front door and drawing them to herself.

“She’s gone.” The woman said simply as she pottered to the door of the house next to Y/N’s, key rattling in hand.

“W-what?” Azriel asked in confusion, unsure what the woman meant, shadows freezing along with him as they waited to hear what she had to say.

“She left this morning with a lot of bags in tow. Said she’d be gone for a while. I don’t blame the poor dear the state she was in when she got back to her house earlier.” The woman let a sad smile cross her face at the memory of her younger neighbour’s frantic appearance as she entered her home with a sea of tears staining her face.

“What?” Azriel said once more, eyes stinging. He was too late. Y/N had gone. Gone where?

“Poor child was done with being alone that’s what I think. She deserves to find a life.” And with that the old woman entered her home leaving Azriel alone in the street, moonlight casting a haunted glow over Y/N’s empty home.

Neither Azriel or his shadows moved. Too stunned by the news to know what to do. How had everything fallen apart so quickly?

His chest became tight, the action of breathing causing him pain as he struggled to keep his shallow breaths even. His eyes blurred from his tears he dropped to his knees, hand pressed tightly against his racing heart in an attempt to slow the erratic beating. He felt as if he was dying.

Shadows coming to their senses they absorbed their master once more. Transporting him back to the Night Court. Back to his home which now felt strange to him, which felt like something was missing.

Azriel stayed in place wherever his shadows had taken him, knees pushing into the dirt on the ground. His ability to breathe forgotten as his head grew lighter and nausea crept up his throat. The constant flow of tears unceasing. A firm body crashed into his, pulling him into their arms. Through his clouded vision Azriel couldn’t make out who it was but he forced himself to summon the words to speak, “She’s gone” he choked, “she’s gone.” The arms around him drew him in tighter, pulling Azriel closer to their chest.

Azriel then felt Cassian’s long hair brush against his tear-stained cheeks. It was his brother who hugged him securely, his large hand bracing the back of Azriel’s head as he sobbed, “she’s gone” escaping his lips once more.

His eyes had cleared enough that Azriel could look past Cassian’s shoulder and he locked eyes with the blue violets Elain had told him she had planted.

His shadows had taken him to the Night Court’s garden but his heart longed for him to be in another.

Part 8

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

Notes: If you want to cry even more: blue violets represent the melancholy of lost love and abandonment :(

Taglist Part 1:

@minnieoo @thelov3lybookworm @going-through-shit @iluvyewman-blog @laughterafter @amysangel @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @justvibbinghere @honeybeeboobaa @willowpains @tele86 @mysticalfuncollectorus @mybestfriendmademe @starryhiraeth @gorlillaglue25 @moonlwghts @darling006 @anuttellaa @serendipityx150 @xxxalicerogersxx @that-one-little-soybean @scatteredstardustt @naturakaashi @nyx-the-alien @lostinpages13 @namelesssav @dreamlandreader @fightmedraco @maxmouse001

[oncasette]

𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗖𝗔𝗡 𝗛𝗔𝗩𝗘 𝗠𝗬 𝗜𝗦𝗢𝗟𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡

KINKTOBER ACT I, ethan landry x fem!reader

summary: 3.1k

“Your fucking muse? You ask. You shove the top photo directly in his face. It’s a picture of you in your underwear as seen through your bedroom window, hands in the process of unhooking your bra. 

“What can I say, baby. I told you I’d thought about this for a long time.”

or the one where ethan saves you from a creep after you lock yourself out of your dorm. or so you think.

warnings: not beta’d, smut, stalking, unprotected sex, dub-con, unsolicited pictures

masterlist | taglist | kinktober

Ethan hadn’t noticed you. At first. You’d had at least one class together every semester since freshman year, being in the same major and all, and yet it's taken him until now to take note of you. True, crude, unfiltered, awareness.

Sure, he’d known about you, the same way he knew about all the other girls on campus. He could match a face to a name and hold a casual conversation with you without feeling the need to ask the same three questions that always seem to be on the tip of everyone’s tongue. 

But now. Now, he knows you. He knows how you shift in your seat when you get called on to answer a question, despite the fact that you’d raised your hand in the first place, the lavender and mint of your shampoo that he could easily catch a whiff of if he leaned forward in his seat just ever so slightly, the way your skin prickles with goosebumps when you change into your pajamas after a shower–you should really learn to close your blinds, living on the second floor of your dorm complex and all. 

Your front door clicks shut before you think to check your pockets for your ID. 

“Shit,” you mumble as you jiggle the locked door handle. The only time you ever took it out of the pocket in your phone case was when you were trying to order something from the bookstore online and needed your student ID number, and, of course, you’d forgotten to stuff it back into the damn thing when you’d finished. 

“Locked out?” says a barely cognisant male voice from behind you. 

“Sorry?” you spit, spinning around in a huff in the wake of your disappointment. 

“Did you lock yourself out?” he asks again with a stifled laugh under his tone. You barely recognize the boy, only having stumbled past him once or twice in your haste to get back to your dorm to study. Figures that he’d end up being just across the hall from you. And much cuter up close. 

“Yeah, yeah,” you sputter, your immediate anger diffusing into slight annoyance. “Thought my ID was in my wallet, and as soon as I went to double check… you know.”

“Oh, yeah. Sucks when that happens,” he says. “‘S your roommate out?”

The hair on the back of your neck stands up and you have to remind yourself he’s just being polite. 

“She’s got class,” you swallow. He nods. You feel the need to elaborate. “O Chem.”

“You’ve got yourself a smarty pants on your hands, huh.” He steps closer and your breath hitches at the back of your throat. “Bet you’re smarter though.”

His mouth quirks as he boxes you in, back nearly pressed to the door of your room. “Oh, uh,” a dry chuckle. “I don’t know about that, she’s a pharmacy major and everything and all I do all day is learn about finances and the economy, so.”

Your neighbor had lost his sweet-boy charm in the few feet he’d breached, his jaw sharper and eyes darker in the fluorescence. 

“I’ve really gotta get going-”

“Without your key?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m meeting someone just downstairs and I can always just text my roommate to let me in later-” he cuts you off again. 

“I’m sure they can wait for a couple minutes,” he says. His aftershave burns your nostrils. 

“Look, I’m already running late-”

A voice you don’t recognize calls your name from down the hall. Your head snaps, alerted to the sound. Squinting your eyes, you try to identify your anonymous hero. 

“Hey,” the curly haired boy says as he approaches the two of you. “Are you ready to go yet? I tried texting when I got here, but I never got a response.”

“This is the friend you were waiting on?” the blond guy asks. He pulls his shoulders back, gaining back the inch he’d lost when he’d cornered you in. 

“Ethan,” the new boy sticks his hand out to shake the other guy’s hand, only to be met with a scoff as he shoves his hands into his pockets. 

“Didn’t mention you were meeting up with your boyfriend,” he sneers. 

“First date,” you choke out with a dry throat, hoping that the notion of another guy in the picture would get him to leave you alone, and hating the fact that it was probably going to work. Ethan slides closer to you and you can feel your hands start to shake as the guy shakes his head in disappointment. 

“Whatever, man,” he says. He turns and scans into his room, leaving you to exhale a breath you’d been holding in tight. 

“He was interesting,” Ethan says, curls bouncing as spins to face you. 

Humming, you draw your lips together in a tight line. You watch as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other as you thumb the wallet on the back of your phone case, subconsciously counting the cards there only to remember why you’d been stuck out in the hall in the first place. 

“Do you have somewhere to be?” he asks. 

“Well,” you start. “I was gonna go get some dinner, but with my ID being held hostage in my room…”

Ethan clears his throat before saying, “I, uh- I live on the next floor up if you wanted to hang out in my room until your roommate gets back.”

You’d think after the last guy had tried getting you into his place. 

“Yeah, you know what, sure. That’d be nice,” you shrug, offering him a tight lipped smile before he led you toward the open spiral stairwell in the complex that led to all of the floors. As the two of you make your short journey up the flight of stairs, Ethan can’t help but to ramble on about how he’d stumbled upon your predicament for the four minutes it takes to climb the stairs. 

“I wasn’t eavesdropping, swear to god, but he was just being so creepy, you know. I could hear him growling from the stairs,” he says once you reach the third floor. 

“No, I’m totally glad you were eavesdropping,” you laugh. Ethan holds his phone up to the door, unlocking it with the ID shoved into his wallet before holding it open for you to enter before him. 

“Chad’s at the Pike party right now, so make yourself comfortable wherever,” he says as he shrugs his zip-up off to toss over his desk chair leaving him in a black t-shirt hugging his biceps in a way that has you swallowing saliva. 

“Chad?” you ask. 

“My roommate.”

“Ah,” you hum, settling yourself in the middle of the room before Ethan pipes up again. 

“The left bed’s mine if you want to sit,” he offers. “Do you want something to drink?”

He’s got a plaid bedspread and probably navy sheets, but you climb up to sit on it nonetheless. 

“Sure, what you got?”

He lists off the few sodas they have, the case of Busch, and the single already opened bottle of water that’d been in there since they’d moved in. 

“I’ve got a case of seltzer in the fridge under my bed, too, if you want that,” he winces at his options. 

It’s a Friday night, what have you got to lose. “I’ll take a seltzer.” 

You try to ignore the way the hair on the back of your neck stands up as he moves closer, kneeling beside the bed to dig in the mini fridge stashed there. He comes back up with two cans in hand, extending one out for you to take from him. The can seems to condensate in the heat of your hand as soon as you grab it. 

Before you have a chance to pop the tab, Ethan climbs in beside you leaving a little less than a foot of distance between the two of you despite his twin being an XL. His knee bends until it knocks against yours with a soft sorry mumbled out but no attempt to move it. He opens his drink and haphazardly taps the top of it against your own unopened can with a, “Cheers.”

 “To?”

“Not being around that creep anymore?” he offers. 

Nodding, you open the can and tap it back against his, “Fucking cheers.”

Taking a sip, you wince. Your body had not been prepared for alcohol, and whatever seltzer he had sure tasted like a hell of a lot of it. It’s quiet for a while, the start of various questions and conversations settling on the tip of your tongue as try to quell the awkward silence that’s overtaken you. Ethan’s familiar in a way you’re not entirely sure how to grasp. Something about his presence has the back of your brain buzzing. When the can in your hand is nearly empty, you manage to get words out of your mouth. 

“Thanks for the help and everything, and really I mean, thank you, but how the fuck do you know me?” you finally settle on. “I mean you knew my name before you even came over and I just… you know?”

“We have stats together,” he says, stuttering and quirking the end of the statement into more a question than a declaration. Your brain seems to stutter for a second, trying and failing to place him. Until. 

“Right! Right, oh my god! You’re the cute guy that sits behind me,” you say seconds before slapping a hand over your mouth.

“Cute?” he asks.

“Unfortunately, very.”

“What’s so unfortunate about my cuteness?” His eyes grow hazier, more lidded. He shifts closer forcing your breath to hitch in the back of your throat. Tipping back the last of your drink, you crush the can out of habit and set it onto his nightstand. The already small counter space is cluttered with various trinkets and electronics before you can find a space to set your drink down. The polaroid camera catches your eye. 

“You have a polaroid?” you ask, leaning over further to snatch it off the edge and hold it up to your eye. He offers you a short hum in response. “What do you take pictures of?”

“I’ve got a specific muse,” he replies. 

“Care to share?” you ask as you lower the camera from your face only to find him much closer than you expected him to be. Closer than he had been just a moment ago, close enough to smell the cologne stuck to his shirt and see the faded pink of a scar against his jaw. He shakes his head slowly as he removes the camera from your limp fingers and places it back on the nightstand, tossing his own empty can onto the floor beside the bed. The way he leans forward has you leaning back. He leads you to drop your head back onto his pillow and your legs shift until you’re entirely situated beneath him. There’s still space between you, a couple inches at best, as his hands find solace beside your shoulders. 

“You are so beautiful,” he whispers and you feel your face heat up in response. 

“Thank you,” you reply, tongue dry. What was in the air tonight? You’d just been relieved from one guy trying to drag you into his bed only to be pushed into another. Still, with the way your heart was racing, you weren’t sure this situation was entirely the same. 

“You’re welcome,” he sighs. You can feel the way his hand twitches and flexes at your side. 

You’re not sure who makes the first move after that. One moment you’re laying there, noses nearly touching as his breath fans over your face, and the next his lips are on yours and his tongue is in your mouth. The hand that had been fluttering at your side now pressed hard into your waist, thumb pushing up the fabric of your top until it met bare skin. 

His name is hazy in your head. You barely conjure it up, having to filter through a couple variations of Edward and Eric and Elliot before you manage out a weak gasp of, “Ethan” against his lips. 

His hand continues to push up until your shirt has been bunched up at your chest. He pulled back just enough to be able to look at his handiwork. Your heaved as the edges of his fingers worked up under the wire of your bra. The chill of his hand left goosebumps in its wake. 

Everything feels like it’s moving in slow motion as he lifts you just enough to get your shirt up over your head and to unclasp the back of your bra, leaving you bare beneath him. Not for long, though, as he sits up fully and reaches up to tug his own shirt over his head seconds after he’s got yours tossed down to the floor. 

“God, you have no idea how much I’ve thought about this,” he groans, palms flat against your ribs. 

“You think about me?” you ask, head quirked to the side as you try not to trace his abs with your tongue. Who knew the cute nerd in your stats class had all of this going on for him. 

“All the fucking time,” he says. It’s a comment that should have you running for the hills, logically, coming from a guy you barely know. A guy you don’t know. But he’s already got you half-dressed and in his bed and you can’t bring yourself to pull away. 

You hook your fingers into the hem of his sweats only for him to cover them with his own as you tug them down his legs. You do your best not to gape at the size of him. God, you think, is there any part of him you don’t want to lick? It takes him a second of shuffling and kicking, but as soon as his pants hit the floor his hands are back on you. 

“Condom?” you gasp. His right hand trails down your chest, your stomach, and you think he’s going to stop at the band of your leggings, but it keeps going until you can feel him cupping against your clothed pussy. He nods absentmindedly. Your hips jump as soon as his thumb presses into your clit. Even with the dull pressure, it’s enough to send a shiver up your spine. 

“Condom, Ethan, please,” you whine. 

“Fuck,” he says as he pulls himself from his daze. “You don’t want me to…” 

“No, please,” you whimper. “Want you.”

He throws open the drawer in his nightstand, leaving the contents open as he grabs an unopened box. The box tears–practically in half–and the three rolls land on your stomach. 

“Do you want me to get that for you?” you ask with a giggle. 

“No, fuck, no. I got it,” he grumbles, tearing a single condom off and pushing the rest onto the pile of clothes you’d conjured together. 

“You sure?” His hands are shaking as he finally rips open the package, but they seem to steady once he’s got it rolled down onto his cock. 

As soon as he’s got it on, though, he’s ripping your leggings down your legs. His thumb finds your clit again, barely ghosting over it in slow, tight circles as his free hand lines his dick up with your slit. 

“Christ, you’re tight,” he groans, just barely notching the head. He pushes in slowly, jaw clenched, head dropped against your shoulder until he’s bottomed out. You nearly sob when you feel his pelvis press against yours. You don’t think you’ve ever felt this full in your life. You’re a little surprised he hadn’t ripped you in half, if you’re being honest with yourself. 

He bites down on your shoulder as you feel his hips begin to pull back. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful, baby, fuck,” he says. Where his thumb had stalled movement–not that you’d been able to really notice–it picks back up again, harder this time. Your eyes roll back in your head as Ethan’s mumblings pick up. So pretty, so perfect, better than I had imagined. 

He’s already pulsing inside of you, twitching against your walls as he begins to pick up speed. His teeth nip at the sides of your neck, likely leaving marks you’ll have a hell of a time explaining to your roommate later, and his tongue laves at your pulse point. 

Heat begins to build in your belly. It’s faster than you expected, a symptom of the alcohol, you think. 

“Ethan,” you whimper. 

“Yeah, baby?” he asks, eyes screwed tight as his pace begins to stutter. 

“I’m so close.”

“Already? ‘Ve just started with you,” he sighs as if he wasn’t about to break skin on your neck. 

“Please, please, I’m so close,” you beg. 

“Oh, god,” he seethes. “I’m gonna cum.”

You bring a hand up to brush his curls away from his forehead and a bead of sweat drips down the side of his face. 

“I want you to cum first,” he says. “Before I- before I do.”

With the way he’s working, you don’t think you’ve got much of a choice. Nodding, you bring your hand down to rest at the back of his neck, tugging his face down so that your lips met. You don’t even have time to warn him before you’re clamping down on him, pussy fluttering as your orgasm washes over you and leaves you hazy. Ethan’s hips stall at one final push in and you can feel the heat of his cum through the latex. 

He pulls back, pressing one brief final peck to your lips before he leans back enough to remove his softening cock from you, the both of you wincing as he does so. He mumbles a soft, “I know” as he goes, rolling the condom off and tying the end to toss it in the trashcan beside the nightstand. 

With an elongated sigh, he drops himself onto the bed beside you leaving you to shiver in the new chill hitting your bare skin.

You’re not even trying to snoop as you look around at his nightstand, eyes naturally gliding over the still open drawer of junk when the stack of pictures shoved in the corner catch your eye. It takes a second to really see what it is as the polaroids are covered in a thick translucent goop, but you can’t help but pick them up when it clicks in your brain. 

“What the fuck are these?” you gasp, holding them up enough for Ethan to look at them. 

“What?” he asks, still loopy from his orgasm. 

“Your fucking muse? You ask. You shove the top photo directly in his face. It’s a picture of you in your underwear as seen through your bedroom window, hands in the process of unhooking your bra. 

“What can I say, baby. I told you I’d thought about this for a long time.”

[haveateadude]

bleak horizons

summary *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ yeah, okay. maybe you're sad.

warnings *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ depression, self-harm, mommy issues (dw there's A LOT of fluff and cuddles and hugging and it all ends up alright) this is just talked about but it can still be triggering!!!!! pls take care of yourselves!!!!!!!! my dms are open :)

author notes *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ wasn't planning on posting this but i love validation. also, this is not like cannon ellie i guess?? i did a really bad characterization bc i used this as a vent and i just wanted comfort lmao. hope this still makes y'all feel seen or fucking something. btw this first part is really boring hehe, i wrote this when i was in a rush and in a train and i was tired and sad so i don't mind if it flops lol

i hate this so much idk why i'm posting this as my first pots. aghh. here u go ig. don't hate on me. bye.

(not proofread, sorry abt that)

pt1 — pt2 — pt3

you look so out of it

pull it together

we can love you

forever and ever

I've recently moved in with Ellie after weeks of looking for someone to move in.

I had checked other apartments, but this was the one that didn't smell like there was a corpse under my feet, hidden from the light beneath the floor and it didn't look like it was haunted by ghosts. The walls weren't chipping away, also, so that was a plus. There's no denying that getting used to living with someone else was difficult, but it was the only alternative to live away from my parents. Not to mention I had developed feelings for Ellie—she's beautiful, with those eyes and auburn hair, and her tattoos just make her look fucking badass.

After a few weeks, I settled in with her: we both have a routine, and established unspoken rules, and now it's comfortable living with her.

Tonight was a lovely night—I had already finished everything I had to do, and I didn't have an exam until next week, probably—until I got a call from my mother. I know I can't run away from this one. She always threatens to unroll me from college and take me home when I don't answer her calls. And I know she's capable of doing so.

“Hello?” I said as I went out to the kitchen, to take a glass of water.

“You know, most people say something sweet when they answer their mother.”

I roll my eyes, even if she can't see me. It was just a fucking hello.

“What happened, Mom?” I ask, not wanting to fight.

She takes a second to answer, “Well—I was looking at some resources and there are a lot near your area…”

She takes a second to answer, “Well—I was looking at some resources and there are a lot near your area…”

“Resources about what?”

“Therapy. Conversion therapy.”

It takes all of myself not to gasp, or cry. I don't know. I hear Ellie going out of her room, and walking towards the kitchen. I don't care if she's here; I haven't been caring about anything these past few days.

“Okay,” Is all you say. I don't know how to answer, or what to do. I leave the glass on the aisle with trembling hands.

“That's all you have to say?”

“I—I don't know what you want me to say.”

“‘Thank you’, maybe?” I stay quiet, I don't want to thank her, I don't want her to speak to me ever again. “You could also get therapy for, you know…”

“For what, mother?”

“The cutting. Your scars—I always thought they looked repulsive. No one is going to lov—”

I hung up before she could say anything else. I hate her. I hate my mother. I can't even believe she's a mother, let alone mine. I suddenly feel the need to hurt, and I hate to admit it, but my mother has always been right about the way they look—so I just shut my eyes and try to breathe. It always helps—deep breathing, that is. I have to remind myself that I'm clean. I've been clean for months. Maybe even a year, I lost count.

“You okay?”

Ellie's voice almost makes me flinch, already having forgotten about her. I open my eyes as she walks over to me and lays her elbows on the aisle, while I rest my back on the counter behind her.

I look at her, with a knot in my throat, “I'm fine.”

“Your mother…” She makes a pause, short enough to not make me go crazy, “Is she, like, a pain in the ass?”

I chuckle at that as I cross my arms, “Yeah.”

“If it gets too bad, you can talk to me. I don't mind. And my dad has some contacts, we can maybe scare your mother away.”

“It's okay,” I tell her with a smile. “I can manage.”

“I know,” She smiles, and I can feel my heart fluttering in my chest.

Before I say anything I regret, I go to your room with my door open—a technique I've acquired to avoid hurting myself.

I sit at my desk and look up conversion therapy first, I want to know what this is all about—I know that it's harmful to people in the community, that it leaves you screwed and fucked up. I don't like what pops up on my screen, so I close the tab and go to another one—where I search for therapy. The real one.

I went to a lot of therapy sessions, but my mother was always behind them, so I don't know if it ever was effective. I like this one a lot better. It should be helpful. It will help, I know that for a fact.

I'm having dinner with Ellie, which we normally do—today we ordered, since we were hungry and it always takes a little while to prep a meal—when I think to ask her about the topic.

“Do you know any therapy center?” I ask her. “Or the number of a therapist? Whatever.”

If she's curious, she doesn't show it. She stops chewing on her food, then looks at me; then continues to chew, and after she swallows she speaks, “Sure, I have some friends that go to the same therapist, so it's completely trustworthy, I guess. I can ask for the number.”

I wipe my mouth with the napkin on my side, “Yeah, that'd be alright.”

Ellie takes a sip from her cup and then looks at me, “You okay, though…?”

“I'm fine, just—you know, making sure everything's okay.”

She nods, “Got it—I was just asking.”

After my first therapy session, I ended up tired. My therapist—which feels weird to say out loud and even in my head—is a nice lady in her thirties who looks like a hippie.

I've realized I tend to lie a lot—I didn't talk about self-harm or my mother. Or anything else, really. Just about the movie Speak, and then almost cried when talking about the weather.

So, “Yeah, it went well,” is my answer when Ellie asks how it went, sitting in her car. She picked me up since I had taken my car to maintenance.

“Okay, then,” she says once the car engine starts. She connects her phone to Bluetooth, and we listen to music for a while. Ellie places her hand on my knee when I start bouncing my leg, which sends shivers down my spine and gives my brain something to think of that isn't any of my shit. “Do you want to go eat something?”

“Sure,” I accept. Her thumb makes little circles on my knee. I wonder if she knows what she's doing, her eyes are still fixated on the road. My heart does the flutter thing that it did a few days back again, and my core heats up.

She doesn't want you, I try to convince myself. She's your friend, she doesn't want you. She will fall in love with you, not your brain nor your scars, and when she finds out about the way you think she'll leave.

When we arrived at the restaurant, we ordered a plate together, since we always share and the food here comes in big sizes that we wouldn't finish if we ate it separately.

When we arrive at the restaurant, we order a plate together, since we always share and the food here comes in big sizes that we won't finish if we ate it separately.

“So, how's work?” I ask when we're waiting for our food.

“It's going well, I guess.”

“You guess?”

"I just hate my boss."

I furrow my eyebrows, “do you want to talk about it?”

“It's fine, he just sucks. But well, Jesse is postulating to—you know, be a boss; that fucker.”

I chuckle, “Well, I like Jesse.” I soon realize what I said, and my cheeks go red. “Not in a, uh, romantic way or anything. You know. Fuck. He's just nice.”

“Just nice?”

“I like you better than him,” I blurt out, which only adds to my embarrassment.

Oh, oh.

I like Ellie.

Fuck, yeah. You do.

Who am I kidding, I knew I did. From the start—from the first time she looked at me, for the first time touched my hand and spoke to me; for the first time she played guitar for me and made dinner because she knew how tired I was.

Ellie is flushed. I can tell.

“Oh, do you?” She asks with a grin.

The waitress comes with our food, and leaves the plate. I look at her, she looks at me at Ellie and then leaves.

I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and lay my elbow on the table, with my chin propped up in my hand.

“What if I do?”

She bites her lip, looks at mine and then at the food, “The food's getting cold.”

What the fuck. What the actual fuck. Did that actually happen, or was it my imagination? Holy shit. Shit! Fucking fuck.

It leaves me thinking, but my thoughts leave when I hear her laughter after I crack a joke.

We take the stairs up the apartment, and we laugh all the way up. We just laugh and laugh and laugh because she said something and now I'm almost falling to the floor from how much my stomach hurts.

“Stop,” I say when we get to our apartment door. I keep laughing because Ellie's laughing too and she can't open the door. “My stomach hurts.”

She looks at me and laughs. Idiot. I laugh, too.

“Hey!” We hear our neighbor say. “Quiet down!”

“We're sorry!” I exclaim back, as he closes his door.

Ellie giggles, “You're so fucking dumb, I'm not sorry at all.”

“Shut up,” I say.

“Oh, make me.”

And then—oh, god—and then, and then she looks at me as the curvature of my lips goes down, and then I kiss her.

I kissed her. I fucking did. Me, not her—not Ellie's brave and confident ass, but mine. The butterfly in my chest flutters harder when she kisses back. She puts both of her hands on my waist and deepens the kiss, while my hand moves from her cheeks to her neck, then finds its way to her torso.

Ellie manages to open the door without breaking the kiss, and then she shuts the door with her foot.

“We should—” I speak between kisses. “Ellie—couch.”

“Yeah, okay. Okay.”

Our tongues fight, but our souls mend and I find my way to her in every sense. 

[nathaslosthershit]

Time Flies (slowly) [LN4]

(Read part 1 here) Summary: Years later, Lando hasn’t forgotten about the one that got away. A/N: here is a happy ending after all the angst in part 1

There was so much anger and resentment, so much hatred, after the breakup. Lando's now ex-girlfriend had graduated medical school. What was supposed to be one of the happiest days of her life was overshadowed by the overwhelming feeling that the one person she wanted there with her, the man who had stayed by her side (even while across the world), wasn’t there. 

But she was too proud to reach out, as was he. As Lando stalked her private instagram on one of his spam accounts she forgot to remove from her following, he felt the urge to call, or even just text a simple “congratulations, I am still unequivocally in love with you by the way”. Maybe that was too much though.

With a career like hers, she wasn't out of the clear once she graduated, she still had what felt like millenia left of training to do. So she threw herself into her career. She didn’t want to think about her ex, so she didn’t give herself time to think. 

That worked for a while. Two years went by and she had been on top of her game. Training to work as an ER nurse had been difficult but rewarding. At first, only months after the breakup, she had a hard time but her philosophy of “working so hard you are too tired at the end of the day to think about how you lost the love of your life” had done her good for a while. 

But, she had started to slowly fray at the edges. Sleeping just enough to sustain her but not enough to make her feel rejuvenated. Eating small meals to get her through the day but not enough to feel full. She thought she could get through it.

It wasn’t until she had a 22 year old that had gotten into a racing accident that she really realized how bad she had been feeling. All of the feelings she had been pushing down immediately came charging back up when she saw a tanned boy with curly brown hair. As she helped give him the medical care he needed, she kept reminding herself of the same thing, it's not Lando, Lando is okay, it's not Lando, Lando is fine. It wasn’t until she had tipped a cart full of sterilized tools over that she realized how much she was shaking. One of her coworkers, another nurse on her floor, had to drag her away while she insisted she was fine. She continued on, or at least tried to, until she had made a few too many minor mistakes and was forced to go home. 

Walking into her flat, she made it just a few steps before she broke down. Exhaustion took over and she was unable to even get up after she cried herself to sleep right on the rug. Hours later she had finally gotten the energy to shower and then rot in bed. After what felt like eternity of  staring at the ceiling, she grabbed her phone, hovering over the call button on Lando’s contact that she had been so unable to block, much less delete, over the past two years. 

At what felt like rock bottom though, why not start digging some more?

Pressing the call button, she started to panic, wondering what she would say, till she finally heard his voice for the first time in years. “Hey, this is Lando, pretty busy at the moment, leave a message at the beep!” Voicemail. She had gained confidence for the first time in years and she was sent straight to voicemail. 

It was loud in the club Lando was in. He had started off the night with friends at a nice restaurant and after enough drinks had been passed around, drinks that he declined, they ended up at the club they currently were in. Most of his company was off with their significant others, or dancing with people he just met, while Lando was sitting and talking to a woman who had confidently approached him earlier.

He didn’t feel the phone vibrating in his back pocket when he had his arm around her as they made small conversation. It wasn’t until he started to get nauseous from the smell of alcohol everywhere that he went to the bathroom to check his phone, seeing he had missed a call from the person he thought about the most, even after years apart. 

Since the breakup, Lando had been a mess. It wasn’t his idea to break up. They had issues that they definitely needed to fix, issues they should have talked through instead of letting them snowball for so long, but it shouldn’t have ended the way it did. The minute they hung up those years ago he wanted to call her right back- no, he wanted to book a fight and see her immediately. 

Maybe it was the hope that had ignited in him for the first time in forever, maybe it was the second hand intoxication from being in a club full of drunk people, but Lando pressed call back, praying to hear her voice.

She had had enough time to realize that calling him years after she broke up with him was a stupid decision to make, so of course after it got declined she turned her phone off for the night. She didn’t have anyone else who would contact her anyway.

Because of this, she missed the first call Lando made, then the next seven. It was like an addiction he quickly picked up. After that sliver of hope came back, he couldn’t stop the thoughts that crept in. 

He thought it might have been a mistake on her end, she did ignore the rest of his calls- scratch that, the line was immediately cut the moment he tried to call back. 

But the little voice in his head kept saying ‘try again, maybe she will pick up, maybe there is hope’.

He didn’t sleep the rest of the night. He didn’t sleep the most of the next night either, not till he gave into the voice in his head and bought a plane ticket. 

As Lando sat on the flight, his mind ran through some of his favorite memories over their relationship, then, once those ran out, he imagined what it would be like when he showed up on her doorstep once more. He’d have a lot to explain, like why he was suddenly on her doorstep of her new apartment he had no actual reason to know the address to, something he was given by a good mutual friend who was very tired about hearing both sides moaning about how single they were.

It was all a blur as he landed and swiftly ran through the airport. He hadn’t packed more than an overnight backpack, deciding if this went horribly he would immediately go home to mop around, and if it went amazing he’d figure something out.

Standing in front of her doorstep now, he quickly knocked before he lost all remaining confidence. 

“Lando? What the fuck?” Was all she was able to get out. She would have felt insecure about how disheveled she looked if the man standing in front of her didn’t also look just as terrible. 

“I know, I know. This makes no sense, I have no reason to be here, and it's weird that I know your address.” He replied, correctly guessing every question she had but not giving a single answer to any of them. 

“At least you are self aware.”

“I had to see you, it was genuinely ruining my life. After you called and I missed it, I tried calling back for hours. I didn’t sleep, I couldn’t sleep because all I could think about was why you called. If you had needed help, if it was a buttdial, or if you finally wanted to speak to me as much as I needed to speak to you after these few years. It's so strange feeling so many feelings for someone you broke up with too long ago to still be in love with. That relationship- our relationship was so far from perfect, long distance was too hard for either of us so instead we just phoned it in and stopped trying. But I just really miss you and I really want to make this work.”

This was crazy, both of them realized. Crazy of him to travel to another country after missing one phone call, crazy to have hope after years of silence on both ends, crazy to think that they could mend a relationship they both had let fall apart without giving it a fighting chance. But this was that fighting chance, this was the moment that could make or break them.

But she didn’t have anything to say, she couldn’t think of anything to say. So, when she pulled him by the collar and kissed him harder than he had ever been kissed, she hoped that he got her message.

It would be a long road to recovery, but it would be worth it.

Tagging: @eviethetheatrefreak, @96jnie, @youreverydayfangirl, @jxnellat, @eringaitskill, @slytherinholland

[bitterspoons]

For once, I thought it was me.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Summary: Soulmate au where you can hear the songs your soulmate is listening to. Fred asks your best friend—Angelina—to the ball thinking she's his soulmate.

use of y/n

Warnings: Angst and just a lil' fluff

Word Count:

part one / part two coming soon

A/N: of course the first thing I write is a soulmate au 😭—it's fine and I hope you like it.

"Angelina!" Y/n calls, running over to the Gryffindor table—almost tripping over her feet before placing a hand on Angelina's shoulder.

"Yes?" Angelina looked up from her conversation with the Weasley twins and smiled at her best friend. The Great Hall was bustling with noise.

Y/n panted, catching her breath as she fixed her hair. "Sorry—I just—I ran—oh god I'm dying—" Y/n tried to catch her breath before waving her hand at the twins. "Give me a second—continue your conversation..."

Angelina chuckled before turning back to George and Fred. "This is my friend, Y/n." Angelina introduced. "She's in Hufflepuff so I doubt you would've met her."

Y/n waved, stealing some of Angelina's water.

"Why haven't you invited her to some of our parties?" George asked, batting his eyes. "It would've been nice, seeing a pretty face more often."

Angelina rolled her eyes at the flirt, making space next to her for Y/n. "Yeah, I've asked her but she's not a huge fan of social events." She explained. "It's a miracle she's even in the Great Hall—why aren't you with Willow?"

"Oh, I wanted to know if you wanted to hang out after Divination. Turns out my detention with Professor Sprout is cancelled!" The Hufflepuff said happily, still a bit red from George's flattering.

"Hell yeah!" Angelina cheered. "I told you she loves you."

Y/n smiled. "Yeah but turning her favorite plant into a pair of heels is pushing the line."

Fred cackled. "Y/n, You did what?!"

In her head, a symphony sounded. Him just saying her name sounded like an orchestra.

Pops of warmths fidgeted around her. She had always had a crush on the Weasley, and she never really knew when it happened. She hasn't told a soul and she never would. It was just— he always seemed so happy. She had made him happy, she made him laugh.

Y/n beamed as she explained how she had gotten too caught up with her conversation with Angelina about what shoes to wear for the Yule Ball, she had completely forgotten about the spell she was casting.

"Little Chéri's a troublemaker huh?" Fred teased, scrunching up his nose.

"Chéri?!" Angelina cackled—not a fan of pet names in the slightest.

George grumbled. "Fred has been learning French so he can impress girls."

Y/n laughed, taking a sip of Angelina's water again. "I think it's cute." She bit the tip of her thumbs, an old habit of hers.

"Ever the hopeless romantic, Y/n." Angelina commented, stealing her drink back.

The four engaged in conversation until a Slytherin tapped on Y/n's shoulder. "Uh—Y/n, I think I have a fitting right now." She said awkwardly, getting glares from the Gryffindors.

"Oh!" Y/n shot up, grabbing the last strawberry off of Angelina's plate before grabbing Angelina's pen—sticking it behind her ear—and running off, dragging the Slytherin with her.

"Hey!" Angelina protested, grumbling as she bit into her toast.

"What was that about?" Fred asked, battling Ron for the last corndog.

"Huh? Oh—Y/n and I are helping organise the Ball." Angelina explained, not seeing how Fred watched her run her fingers through her hair as she grabbed another pen to do her Potions Homework. "She's helping make and tailor people's outfits."

"Y/n?" Hermione clarified, popping into the conversation. "She's ridiculously talented, she made the dress I'm wearing!"

"She made adjustments on mine!" Angelina looked at Hermione. "I didn't like how bland my dress was, so she helped bedazzled it."

"Do you think she can fix Fred's dress?" George asked, earning a punch from Fred. "Ow! No seriously though, his tie is all wonky and his pants go way past his feet. Poor bloke's gonna trip!"

Angelina laughed, packing her stuff away and slinging her bag over her shoulder. "Find out yourself! I have to go check up on the Frog Choir."

Just a couple minutes later, Fred heard oddly croaky choruses from his soulmate.

●●●

Fred was trying to go the sleep that night, but all he could hear was stupid music.

When he couldn't decipher whether he was hearing it through his soulmate or if he was hearing it in the common room, he shoved his slippers on and slowly went down stairs.

As he peeked his head around the corner, he saw Angelina dancing with somebody—a CD player in the background as they laughed.

It was the same music playing in his head...Is Angelina—actually his soulmate?

He watched Angelina dance with her friend, practicing their dance for the ball before slowly going back upstairs.

Y/n and Angelina fell the floor in a heap, almost crying of laughter as Angelina stepped on Y/n's foot and then went crashing to the floor.

"So, are you planning on asking your mystery crush to the ball?" Angelina asked, rolling onto her stomach and popping the CD out.

Angelina didn't have a clue about her crush on one of the Weasley twins. Y/n refused to tell her, but she did give vague details about why she liked him so much.

"You think I have time for that?" Y/n questioned, brushing her hair. "Even if I did have the time to ask him, he's probably not even my soulmate."

"Who cares?" Angelina asked, exasperated.

Angelina was one of the people who couldn't hear music from their soulmate, it happened more than you'd think—about as common as dyslexia.

Angelina didn't give two fucks about whether the person she was dating was her soulmate, she tended to do whatever she wanted.

"Well—my soulmate is pretty cool too." Y/n protested.

"Well obviously!" Angelina retorted. "They has to be good enough for our Y/n"

"Oh stop it." Y/n laughed, throwing her hairbrush at Angelina. "I won't have time to ask someone and besides, I think he likes someone else." Y/n looked down, fiddling at the edge of her pink pyjamas.

"Your soulmate or your crush?"

"Maybe both!"

●●●

Fred woke up early today, mostly because he couldn't sleep. I mean, he just found his soulmate! This is the moment that everybody waits for, and it finally happened!

Fred was utterly in love with whoever his soulmate was. The two soulmates have sang duets with each other since they could talk—never making any action to try and find each other but Fred would be lying if he said he hadn't blasted music in his ears just to see if someone in the Great Hall would react.

His soulmate was constantly listening to music and singing songs, it comforted him whenever he heard it—especially since he's heard it since he was little.

And it was Angelina, a girl he was been trying not to crush on for ages.

Fred walked down the stairs, almost laughing when he saw Angelina.

Angelina and Y/n were completely passed out on the common room couches, paper sprawled out as they were doing a history of magic essay.

Fred shook Angelina awake. "Angie...Angie!"

Angelina fell off the bed. "What?"

Fred grinned. "I just thought you might wanna head to bed before the rest of the house wakes up."

Angelina rubbed her eyes before looking around—seeing essay papers, pens and her best friend, still sleeping as she sleepily held the tip of her thumb in her mouth and lulled herself asleep. "What time is it?"

"You have a little less than three hours before everybody else wakes up."

Angelina sighed, getting up and separating their papers and pens. "Hey, Fred?"

"Yeah?" He said hopefully.

"Can you do me a favour?"

Angelina handed him a messenger bag with little bows and gold chains decorating it, he took it without question as she continued.

"Do you think you could get Y/n to her common room? This is.. um This is the longest she's slept for a while and I don't know how to get into the Hufflepuff common room."

Fred thought for a moment—but who was he to deny his soulmate? After all, getting into the Hufflepuff dorms were easy—having learned the ins and outs of practically the whole school.

So Fred slung the bag across his shoulder and walked over to Y/n, still sleeping peacefully.

"Thank you!" Angelina grabbed her own supplies and started going up stairs. "You're the best!" She called. "I'll get you a tailoring with her today! Is dinner alright?"

Fred nodded, slowly picked Y/n up, putting her on the couch so he could give her a piggy back ride to her common room. "Hold on..."

Almost as if her sleeping body could hear it, Y/n's body tensed up, making it easier for Fred to carry.

So Fred walked out of the Gryffindor dormitories and started walking in the halls to go to the Hufflepuff common room.

The sun had barely risen, shining dull lights into the hallway and Fred felt Y/n shift in her sleep—ignoring how his skin fluttered as her breath rolled on top of it.

Fred almost stopped walking as Y/n shifted once more, making a small whimper, trying to pull her hand closer to her face.

"Chéri, if you move your hand, you're gonna fall—okay?" Fred said softly, adjusting his grip on her legs, making sure she wouldn't slip.

Y/n hummed in response, tucking her head on Fred's shoulder as he kept on walking.

Fred was halfway to the common room—walking slowly as to not wake up Y/n when he froze.

Having her thumb clasped between her fingers around Fred's chest, supporting her upper body weight—Fred felt her head twitching, needing something to soothe her to sleep.

Not wanting to have to explain the situation to the sleeping girl or disappoint Angelina—Fred adjusted the girl, now giving her a piggy-front, letting Y/n head sit comfortably against his neck.

Fred debated checking whether his face was on fire when the sleeping girl began to press little kisses on his neck, trying to substitute something for her thumb.

Fred continued walking, but why was he so flustered?

Maybe it’s his soulmate’s best friend.

What was her name again? Y/n?

Fred knocked on the Hufflepuff dorm door in the tune of Helga Hufflepuff. Before walking in and taking the stairs to the girl’s dormitory.

Trying not to feel awkward, he searched the dorm labels until he saw it.

______________

Girls Dorm #207

- Susan Bones

- Lia Diggory

- Y/n L/n

______________

Praising Merlin that she didn’t have too many roommates— He knocked on the door a few times, jumping up again to make sure Y/n didn’t slip.

"Hello?" A small voice asked, a very tired red head opened the door.

Fred gave an award smile. "I have a delivery?"

The girl smiled before letting him in and pointing at the empty bed and messed up desk.

Feed walked over, clutching on to Y/n as he quickly flipped the blanket open and tucked her instead. Y/n immediately latched onto the blankets.

Fred smiled before looking at her desk—tons of dress designs a long with tons of reminders everywhere when a certain one caught his eyes.

The Weasley Twins Inspired Dress

Curious, he picked up the sketch to see that she managed to make a confetti canon dress, inspired by that time he and George covered the Slytherin team in confetti right before a Quidditch match against Hufflepuff.

"I think you're cute together," Susan whispered bashfully, her cheeks pink.

"Oh no," her face fell when Fred denied it. "I already found my soulmate today."

"Oh I'm sorry." Susan apologised, combing her hair. "I just thought your h—never mind." She began to point at her neck before waving it off. "I assume you know how to take care of it?"

"Yeah! I'm planning on asking her to the yule ball!" Fred said, not having any idea what Susan was talking about.

"What? Ya know what—" Susan dug through her make up bag before grabbing Fred's arm and swatching some concealer shades. "You're lucky, you're my winter shade." Susan tossed Fred a concealer wand before shooing him out. "Bye!"

Holding onto the concealer, extremely confused, Fred walked back to him common room before going into the bathroom.

"Shit." Fred vocalised, realising why Susan Bones has thrown him concealer.

A light hickey lay on the side of his neck where Y/n had been.

Fred spent the next two hours trying to figure out how concealer worked.

He didn't understand it—instead opting for a scarf instead to cover up the blotchy disaster he created on his neck.

●●●

Y/n genuinely didn't question why she woke up in her bed and more concerned on her planner—you could see her running up and down the halls all day.

"Professor Moody, may I borrow Ron Weasley please?"

Ron showed her his suit for the ball. "Never mind, you're beyond help. Professor Moody, you can have him back." Y/n said, scribbling something out in her planner.

Taking the stairs, Y/n just started walking—flipping to the back of her planner to edit some sketches and ideas for dresses—not noticing the stair cases changing directions.

Walking up and down and sideways along the halls, Y/n kept walking until she bumped into someone.

"I'm so sorry!" She said automatically only to be shushed by two voices. "Huh—?"

""SHH!" Y/n looked at the two Weasley twins.

"Why?" She asked, looking around to see nobody.

"I don' know," Fred admitted.

"We're skipping, so I assume we have to be quiet." George finished.

The Hufflepuff scoffed. "I'm not skipping. I did all my work in advance so I could focus of the dress making." She looked down at the planner. "And on that note—you have a appointment with me in two minutes. We can't be late!"

"Does that mean you have the answers?" Fred asked as he got dragged away.

"We can discuss answers after we're on time for our session."

"If it's our appointment, how can we be late?"

Y/n sighed, shaking her head. “It’s fine we’re almost there, Willow’s gonna be upset.”

“Who?”

Y/n dragged Fred near a tree where a small desk, mannequins and color swatches were, Y/n thrust Fred upon a little platform until tree branches began to swing around chaotically.

“Willow! Calm down! This isn’t Ron! This is a different Weasley!” Y/n started yelling.

“Willow? As in the Whomping Willow?!”

“Stop moving!” Y/n snapped, petting the branches. “Willow didn’t like it when your brother nearly killed her with a car. I think she has like— Weasley trauma.”

Fred cackled. “Weasley trauma?” A tree branch slapped the back of his head. “Hey!”

“She’s very sensitive.” Y/n defended. “Speaking of Ron, please tell me your suit isn’t as hideous.”

“Don’t worry— I just have a normal suit… I wasn’t sure if I should’ve brought it so I just wore it—”

“That’s perfect. Mind shrugging off the jacket and scarf?”

Nervously, Fred took off the scarf and jacket, revealing the concealer mess on his neck.

“Oh sweetie, what the hell happened to your neck!” Y/n cooed. "Goodness, let me help you. You're gonna break out... Accio makeup kit!"

"I have every shade under the sun, I'm helping people with their makeup too." Y/n waved her hand down. "Get down, off." Y/n stepped onto the platform as Fred stepped off, facing Y/n.

Y/n took a makeup wipe and cleaned up the spot before taking out a whisk and spinning it on the hickey.

"When did you learn how to hide hickey? Does that even work?" Fred asked, watching the metal kitchen utensil.

"Oh hush, it's common knowledge." Y/n pushed his face away, continuing to whisk. "It helps the blood disperse. Next time, put ice on it before it bruises."

Shade matching and blending it in, Y/n hoped Fred couldn't hear her heart beating out of her chest as she finished hiding the red mark. "See? Like it never even happened."

Willow presented a mirror for Fred to see for himself, thank god because that scarf was very itchy.

"Now, how much are we thinking off the tie?" Y/n held up a tape measure and a sharpie, tucking the sharpie behind her ear. "It supposed to be around your belt buckle...Do you feel comfortable with it over here?"

Fred nodded, looking at her in the mirror more than him. Why hadn't he seen her more often? Has she been friends with Angelina for a long time?

"Lovely...okay do you mind if I take this?" Y/n took the colorful tie off Fred and held it up to Willow." Willow, this is Fred's tie." Willow held onto the tie.

"Okay just one second..." Y/n brought out a sheet of brown fabric and a sheet of black fabric and hopped onto the platform with him. She pulled the black one around half of his chest and the brown one around the other half.

"Okay so I think the brown is more flattering on you, I feel like you look paler with the black one—Hey!"

Fred's head started tilting to one side as he imagined Angelina and her hanging out—still in disbelief he had actually found his soulmate.

Y/n grabbed his jaw and moved it so that it faced her. "Sorry, I just need to see—" Y/n furrowed her eyebrows confused as Fred pointed at something in the distance behind her.

Y/n looked behind her only for her jaw to pulled back and facing Fred, pulling the same move she had accidentally done to him. "Touché," She smiled—desperately hoping she wasn't blushing.

"How long have you friends with Angelina?" Fred asked, snapping Y/n out of her mental freakout.

"Oh—uh, since first year. We met on the train." Y/n cast a spell to turn Fred's suit brown. "Yeah that looks better—you looked like you were going to a funeral."

“Then why do I never see you guys hang out?”

Y/n thinks before answering. “I like to keep myself busy, that or I just eat in the kitchen.”

“Why not hang out with Angelina?”

“Uh- Well Alicia and I don’t really get along so I don’t want to make it weird for Angelina. Besides, most of the time Angelina hangs out with me in the kitchen.”

So that’s why Fred never sees Angelina in the Great hall. “Why the kitchen?”

“Because the house elves love me.” Y/n smiled, writing her to do list. “Besides, I like baking.”

Fred stepped off the platform and watched Y/n write. “Do you bake any of the food in the Great Hall?”

“The brownies, but sometimes I also cook the ribs but I like baking more than cooking.”

Fred loves the brownies, he eats them every time they show up on the table.

“Speaking of food… It’s dinner, you better hurry before all the seats are taken.” Y/n starting putting things away and getting out a dress presumingly belonging to her next appointment.

Fred stepped off the small platform, checking his covered hickey once more before starting to turn around. "You aren't going to dinner?"

"Maybe later." She responded quickly, casting a spell on the dress. "Not hungry. " She said briefly. "You can pick up your tie by like tomorrow."

"Alright then, I'll see you around?"

"Sure. Angelina! Can you grab that?" A piece of fabric swirled away in the wind near an approaching Angelina.

Fred walked away, happy with his day and his fitting appointment.

(A/N lmao I have nooooo idea how to end these. Part two could be ready tomorrow or in 3 months, we'll see.)

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for possibly emasculating my husband?

My husband (27 M) and I (32 F) have recently gotten married and bought a house together. For context, we started dating three years ago, and I immediately fell in love with him. We met through a mutual acquaintance and he asked me out after twenty minutes of conversation. He was a perfect gentleman, incredibly intelligent, very handsome, funny, hardworking and kind. On our third date, when we began to get serious, he told me he was transgender – that he had been born female but transitioned to male in his early twenties. This came as a surprise but didn't really change anything. He was the perfect boyfriend and is currently a fantastic husband. He's not out to most people, but a few mutual friends know.

Since we bought a place together, we've both started jobs in the area. He has a very good full-time job at an office about twenty minutes away, and my job is part-time, about ten minutes away from home and five minutes from his office building. His office building has a fast food place next door where most employees get lunch.

Often, my husband forgets his homemade lunch, and I make sure to bring it to him during my lunch break, or after my shift ends. I take a lot of pride in my cooking, and I want to show off to him, so I like to bring him different kinds of meals, in what I've been told is kitchy and cutesy presentation (I write him a love note on the napkin, or make a heart out of vegetables, or fold a rose out of salami slices, etc.)

I take the elevator up to his office, hand him his lunch, give him a kiss, and then I'm off back to work. It's almost like a ritual of ours, and sometimes I find myself looking forward to him having forgotten his lunch. (Does that make me a bad person?)

A mutual friend of ours who works at my husband's office told me in private that I'm emasculating him by bringing him overly cutesy lunches and, her words, not mine, "fawning over him." She also knows about my husband's past, and is very educated and active in LGBT+ rights outside of work. I'm really not as educated, and I grew up in a conservative immigrant household and neighborhood where I hadn't even encountered anyone LGBT+ until I was in college. When she brought this up to me, it made me incredibly self-conscious, and worried that I wasn't validating my husband's masculinity. Recently, I didn't take him his lunch when he forgot it, and he asked me if I was mad at him when he got home. I assured him I wasn't, but now I'm worried.

I'm also worried to ask him what to do, because I don't want it to seem as though I'm treating him any differently because he happens to be transgender. It's never been an issue before, but now I'm thinking more deeply about our relationship and wondering whether I'm unconsciously emasculating him. I love my husband and don't want to hurt him, but I'm wondering whether I have already, by making him seem less masculine in front of his coworkers.

Am I the asshole?

What are these acronyms?

[whoopsyeahokay]

October Sun

summary: you'd known that Simon wasn't okay since it had been announced that they'd found blood in the boiler room. his pain, his hurt, his loss had spilled out from him and into you and you'd had no clue how to handle it. and then suddenly, you'd been soothed, and all you'd been able to think of had been getting to the source of that comfort and giving thanks.

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: eventual smutty smut smut. and mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence. very involved, very dense plot.

bon reading, frens

___________________________💀

OCTOBER SUN pt.8

Wally couldn't stop thinking about earlier. How the slopes and arches of your body fit against him like a puzzle piece. How malleable you'd been under his touch. The intense liquid heat that had thrummed between you both as he'd leaned in to kiss you; heartbeats synchronized, eyes fluttering closed, utterly surrendered to the sensation.

He'd kissed a few girls when he'd been alive. Hell, he'd made out with Dawn a handful of times when adrenaline and hormones had needed an outlet. None of those experiences held a candle to what he'd felt when he'd just barely brushed his lips to yours.

There was something underneath it all. Not just his attraction to you, which he'd harbored for going on two years now. Something else. Something mystical and big and unleashed. Maybe you already knew what it was. After all, you could reach through the veil, hear and see and feel Wally...maybe you had an explanation.

If only the connection between you and Wally hadn't made it practically impossible to finish a conversation.

"Where'd you go, superstar?"

Wally nearly jumped in surprise, having forgotten he wasn't alone. He glanced around, saw Katelynn—the courtyard fatality—and Ajay studying him as intently as Rhonda. They were in the kitchen piling a late lunch of leftovers onto their plates while, around them, the staff muddled through their end-of-day breakdown.

"Uh," Wally supplied, intelligently. He was a miserable liar, something Rhonda had teased him for mirthlessly in the past. Told him he was as easy to read as 3rd grade English (ouch). But he didn't take his promises lightly and knew he had to come up with something or Rhonda would grill him until he broke. Deflection it was, "Do you think Maddie had a good time?"

Rhonda, perched primly on a counter, rolled her eyes and plucked a bread roll from the bin one of the staff was about to seal. "Jesus, you really are ditzy for her, huh?"

"I wouldn't say that," Wally said. He really wouldn't, "I just want her to—"

"Confess her undying love? Make you the center of her universe and forget all about her dreamy, badboy ex?" Rhonda scoffed, "Hate to break it to you, hot stuff, but you'd just be a rebound and we all know how those end."

"Badly?" Katelynn guessed. Having been fourteen when she'd kicked the bucket, she'd likely never had the chance to explore the intricacies of romance. Or of all its thorns.

Rhonda's hands clamped and then bloomed in front of her as she vocalized a bomb exploding.

"No, Rhonda, that's not it," Wally spoke in long strokes, as if to a child, willing away a flash of irritation. "What I was gonna say was that I want her to know there's more to being dead than trying to solve your own murder." Since, after all was said and done, there'd be nothing left to do besides passively haunt Split River High.

And that shit got dull after a semester or two.

Unexpectedly, "I spoke to her today." Rhonda admitted, somewhat reluctant, as the group paraded from the kitchen into the cafeteria. Wally encouraged her to continue with a smile, "About how I died. She thought it could help, so..." She slid into her regular seat next to Wally, eyes fixed on her plate, "I guess it did because she took off after."

It was obvious that relinquishing even that morsel of information made her uncomfortable, shoulders curled to her ears and lips pursed, those metaphorical walls re-erecting.

Wally clapped her on the back, "You did good, Deadly." A fond nickname he used sparingly as it often earned him an elbow to the ribs.

This time, Rhonda simply glared a warning at him before tearing a piece off her bread roll and smearing it through the gravy on Wally's plate. Progress, he supposed.

To move the conversation away from Rhonda, Wally engaged Katelynn, "I saw you with the extinguisher today."

Katelynn grinned through a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

"You know what we should do next time? We get those chairs with the wheels, a couple of fire extinguishers..." He mimed the scene with fervor, grinning conspiratorially between the others, "We could do it in the gym. Take bets. See who goes farthest. It would be awesome!"

Rhonda patted his knee twice—thank you—under the table. How she displayed gratitude without being obvious. As discreetly as possible, Wally returned the gesture, tapping three times to indicate I've got you.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Somehow, you'd done it: graduated to the end of the school day without incident. Sure, Mathilda had given you a funny look when you'd made your excuses to stay behind, but she'd been too distracted by what pieces to include in her portfolio to cross-examine you about it.

"Text me later, sillybean!" She called over her shoulder as she, Hana, and Lucas exited the school.

The siblings waved in unison, Hana pirouetting and blowing you a kaleidoscope of exaggerated kisses before falling back into step with her brother.

You turned back to your locker, shoving in your backpack and your uncle's hoodie. You'd accepted that the connection between you and Wally quashed any attempt you made to hide from him; berated yourself for not realizing it sooner.

After you'd closed the door and slipped the lock back into place, you mustered your courage and turned toward the direction of the theater. You could do this. Without getting sidetracked.

Yeah, you believed that about as much as you believed the lunchroom bread rolls were 'made fresh' everyday.

A metallic clamor caught your attention before you'd even stepped a foot forward, causing you to hesitate. Down several lockers along the row, Simon shook his lock against the hasp furiously. He was unmistakably upset, jaw tight, vibrating with unfettered anger.

You approached him just as he kicked the locker below his.

"Here," You said, inserting yourself between Simon and his locker, "What's the combo?"

Without pause, "8-37-15," he recited through gritted teeth.

You dialed the combination, unhooked the lock and held it out for Simon to take.

"You okay?" You asked, already aware of the answer.

"Yes." Simon lied then abruptly changed his mind, "No. I don't know." He dumped his bag at his feet and rummaged through the contents of his locker only to give up and spin around. Propped against the closed bottom level, Simon ran his hands through his hair roughly, reminding you of someone with responsibility that outweighed their experience.

"What's going on, Si?"

He lifted his head, brow creased with despair, "Aren't friends supposed to trust each other?"

The question knocked you for six. Unsure if it was rhetorical, you chose to stay quiet and, sure enough, Simon expounded. "Aren't friends supposed to tell each other things, even if it's hard? Even if they think it might hurt? Because, at the end of the day, you chose that person to be there for you no matter what. And that person chose you right back."

No questions asked. Your voice overlapped with Xavier's, years worth of emotional petitions for comfort and unbiased support echoing in your head.

Thinking of your friend, you wondered, "Is this about Nicole leaving with Xavier after lunch?"

Simon seemed surprised by the news, yet, after a second, confirmed, "Yeah. Uh, yeah, it's about that."

He stared at his feet, arms folded tightly across his middle, chewed his lip as he pondered what he wanted to disclose. Finally, "I just want to be there for her, but it's like she won't let me. And it sucks." His voice was damp with pain. "And now she's pissed and she's shut me out and...I don't know what to do."

When he raised his head again, you almost choked on the sorrow in his eyes. You wanted to hug him, hold him, cry. Here was a boy whose best friend had, for all intents and purposes, left him behind, and now he was scared he'd lost someone else.

The mounting sadness radiating from Simon made your eyes sting. You had no clue how to comfort him, not like you did Xavier or Mathilda, the two people you'd chosen and who'd chosen you back.

The strength of secondhand emotion chipped away at you, threatened to shatter you into a thousand anguished pieces, but just as you thought you would break, a familiar warmth sunk into the cracks. The sensation blossomed upward and concentrated behind your ribs, loosening a deep breath of relief.

Absently, you shifted your hand the slightest bit away from where it rested against your thigh, the movement undetectable unless one was looking for it. The warmth grew, contented and safe, and then—a whisper of fingertips across the back of your hand, there and gone.

You didn't move, kept your gaze on Simon; simply waited for Wally to enter your periphery. His back was to you, his hand returning to his jacket pocket as he, Rhonda, and a couple of others walked toward the end of the hall. You vaguely saw him split from the rest of the group, Wally going left while the other three went right.

Simon swallowed, mournful, and he rasped, "What do I do?"

Invigorated by Wally's touch, you planted yourself in front of Simon, placed your hands on his shoulders, and urged him to, "Talk to her. People knock communication like it's some cringe cliché, but it's the best way to resolve things." He nodded, weak but resolute, and you dragged him into a hug. "Trust me," You said, "Just be honest and listen. You don't have to understand everything, you just have to accept it."

Simon chuckled wetly, squeezed you tighter for an instant before releasing you.

"Thanks."

"Any time." And you meant it in your bones. "Are you gonna be okay?"

"Yeah," Simon said, scrubbing the back of his wrist over his eyes, "I'll be fine." He cleared his throat, "Listen, um, I forgot something in the cafeteria, but if you want to wait I could give you a ride home."

Something in his tone suggested the offer was halfhearted, though you appreciated it all the same.

"Nah, it's cool. I have to study." You replied, already positioning yourself to leave. Simon didn't mention that the library was in the other direction, merely flashed you a small, grateful smile.

"See you tomorrow." He saluted.

Free to excuse yourself, you found you had to fight the desire to go go go, hurry, go, that warm sensation purring louder the closer you got to the theater. Fuck making sure the coast was clear, you were supposed to be in there right now; swung the door open with probably a lot more force than necessary.

Wally, who had been sitting on the edge of the stage awaiting your arrival, hopped down as soon as you entered the darkened space, his gaze instantly locking with yours.

One dubious step, two, three, and the warmth fizzled and licked inside you, encouraging your pace to quicken, faster, nearer. You broke into a run, closing the distance, Wally's stare never wavering. With less than a foot remaining, you sprung up, body colliding into his. He caught you easily, held you in his arms with one hand under your thigh and the other around your waist.

No thoughts, no words, no inhibitions; fever-hot and eager; Wally's jaw in your palms, you surged forward and pressed your lips to his.

💀___________________________

PART SEVEN - PART NINE

also available on AO3!

[muwapsturniolo]

✯Kill Bill✯

Summary: Y/n can’t bare to see Matt with anyone else

Warning: VERY HEAVY SUBJECTS ARE TALKED ABOUT!!! PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN ADVISORY!! talks about mental health, murder, guns, knives, trespassing, death, suicide. IF I FORGOT ANYTHING PLEASE LET ME KNOW!!!

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

The faint humming of the flickering fluorescent lights clouds Y/n's ears as she shuffles through the supermarket. Her feet drag across the dirty tiles, her body movements sluggish. The smell of vegetables and meat filling up her nose as she walks.

"flour, eggs, milk. flour eggs milk." She chants to herself, her lips barely moving. As she walks towards the baking aisle, basket in hand, she sees a bundle of pink in her peripheral. She turns and her breath hitches.

A boquet of pink roses.

She stares at them, her mind swarming with the endless memories she's had with them. Her body stands motionless, the tunnel vision taking over.

“I got you these!”

“I’ve never received flowers before!”

Crash

“Shit, I’m so so-Y/n?” She’s snapped out of her thoughts by a voice that has haunted her for the past year now. She turns and sees her ex in full glory.

Matt.

She says nothing to him, the words that want to fall from her mouth getting stuck in her throat, choking her. He looks her up and down, noticing how beat she looks. Her eye bags are prominent, a clear indication she hasn’t slept in who knows how long. Her skin is dull, a vast contrast to how radiant she used to be. Her clothes are different as well, a pair of sweats and some crewneck that has bleach stains on it.

She doesn’t look ok.

“Hey…” She manages to mumbles out. He does his best to give her a genuine smile, but it’s more awkward than anything. They haven’t spoken since a week after the breakup, the last text being Matt telling her to leave him alone and go do something with her life.

“How are you?” He questions, not really knowing how to carry on with the conversation. He didn't plan on seeing her ever again.

“Fine…”

That’s a lie. She’s not fine.

She hasn’t been fine since the day he broke up with her. She fell into a deep depression, shutting everyone including her own family out. Her mental state got so bad, she had to go to an inpatient facility as well as therapy. They put her on medication and she still does therapy to this day.

Matt nods and looks around awkwardly. He notices the bouquet of pink roses next to her and he smiles a bit. “Do you remember when I bought you those for the first time?”

His words trigger her, her knuckles turning white as she clenches the shopping cart. “Yeah…I-I do.” Her voice cracks. Matt notices and sighs to himself.

Maybe he shouldn’t have brought that up.

He walks past her towards the bouquet, and instantly she catches a whiff of him.

Versace Eros.

The cologne she bought for him.

She remembers how she had to pick up a few extra shifts just to afford the fragrance. She was so happy when she was able to buy it for him, even more excited to see his expression when the gift was given.

He picks up the bouquet and turns to her, “Let me buy you these…for old times sake?” He doesn't know why he offered, maybe it was because he knew he did her wrong.

Immediate joy spreads through the girl's body. The serotonin rushing to her brain. She nods, a wide smile on her face.

Her cart is long forgotten as she follows him to the checkout, a pep in her step as she eagerly skips to the self-checkout.

That interaction was a week ago, and that leads us to now.

She stares at her phone, waiting for Matt to respond. She decided to text him, a simple “thank you for the roses, it truly meant a lot💕”

It’s been about twenty minutes since she sent the text and she received nothing, until her phone rang. She quickly picks up the phone seeing that it’s Matt, her voice giddy.

“Hey Ma-who the hell are you and why is my fiance buying you roses?”

Her heart plummets. The good mood she was in wiped away in an instant.

Fiance?

He’s getting married?

Why would he buy her flowers if he’s getting married? He still loves her, right? He bought her flowers as an apology right?

“Y/n I think you are dwelling too much on the past. There’s other men out there for you.”

She snaps back into reality, looking around the therapist's office in confusion. She was just in her living room, getting cussed out by Matt’s fiance.

How did she get here?

Her therapist sees the confused look on her face and sighs knowing what’s going on. “You don’t remember how you got here do you?” The girl shakes her head. “You dissociated…Again. I thought we were getting better Y/n.”

“I-I am! I’m making progress! I just-he bought me flowers and then I find out he’s engaged! It’s perfectly normal to be upset!”

“It is, but not for two weeks.”

She’s been out of it for two weeks? She doesn’t even remember going to work, eating, or even sleeping. Her therapist sets their clipboard down, leaning forward slightly. “He’s a trigger for you. He makes your mental state and life worse-No! He helps! He doesn’t make anything worse he makes it better!” She’s quick to try and defend Matt, not liking the way her therapist degrades him.

“Does he? He broken up with you on your anniversary, claiming that he can’t handle a relationship with you anymore. He left you at the restaurant, leaving you to get an Uber home. He took all your friends away from you. When you tried to talk it out with him, he proceeded to degrade you and make you fall into a deep depression that had you in a mental hospital.”

“I’m sorry for being so harsh but it is the truth. I don't think you should dwell on Matt... There's other men out there for you."

"I don't want other men, I want him." she thinks to herself.

The therapist sighs and takes off their glasses in frustration seeing that she's not responding. "are you still taking your medicati-where are you going?” The therapist watches as Y/n grabs her things and stands up. "I need to go," She ushers out of the office, dashing to her car.

she climbs in and stares straight ahead, her breathing ragged as her therapist's words circulate in her mind.

She slams her hands on the steering wheel and begins screaming, kicking her feet and flailing her limbs in rage.

“He’s wrong! He’s wrong! He loves me! He loves me! He lo-“

She stands in front of the door, the bouquet of decaying roses in her hand. She doesn’t know how she got here. She looks around her, taking in the view of the gorgeous neighborhood. She could see herself living here with Matt. A ring on her finger as their kids play in the yard. She turns back towards the door but movement through a window catches her attention. The sight in front of her broke her heart, filling her body with immense anger

Matt and his fiance by the kitchen sink. She’s washing the dishes as Matt hugs her from behind, kissing along her shoulder.

Her hand clenches the stems harder, the thorns digging into her palm, drawing the smallest amount of blood. Her breathing becomes ragged, her heartbeat pounding in her ears.

She snaps.

She tears the roses apart, the petals and stems flying around, landing on the doorstep. She stares at the mess she made, one thought running through her head.

She looks through the window and sees that the lovely couple is gone. Not thinking clearly, she opens the door and creeps inside. She looks around the home, taking in the decor. knick-nacks lay on tables and bookshelves, a couple of blankets strewn over the couches. The TV was on in the living room, playing an episode of Friends.

"Matt hates friends." She thinks to herself. As she went to turn it off, she came across a picture sitting on a side table.

It was a picture of Matt down on one knee, proposing to his current fiance. She reads the bottom of the photo and her heart breaks.

They were going to get married on Y/n's birthday.

She feels stinging in her eyes as she stares at the picture. She blinked quickly and realized she was crying. Was it because of the heartbreaking news she found out, or was it because she forgot to blink? She doesn't know and she doesn't get to find out.

"What the fuck?"

She turns around and sees the fiance looking at her in fright. She begins screaming at her, yelling for her to get out. Y/n is freaking out, she doesn't want Matt to see her. "Calm your fucking tits!" She seethes trying to get her to be quiet.

"Get the fuck out of my house!" The fiance grabs a kitchen knife and begins wielding it. Matt rushes down the stairs hearing the commotion, eyes wide when he sees the scene in front of him. He dashes towards his fiance, trying to get her to put the knife down so no one gets hurt. Y/n stands there, not knowing what to do.

She was so entranced by Matt, she didn't see his fiance breaking out of his hold and charging at her.

It all happened so fast, two bodies colliding and a loud bang being heard.

a body drops to floor, blood seeping out of their chest.

"K-Kayla?" Matt croaks out, a lump in his throat as he sees his lover lying on the floor. He drops to his knees, pleading for her to get up.

Y/n stands there, her ears ringing as she watches the scene in front of her. She sees how distraught Matt is over his fiance being dead, his cries gut-wrenching. She comes to the conclusion that has her seeing red.

Matt was a lost cause, he truly loved Kayla.

"What did you do?" He turns to the emotionless girl, a look of pure hatred in his eyes. He stands staggered and gets in her face,

" WHAT DID YOU DO?!?!"

He's beyond angry, his chest rising and falling harshly, spit flying out of his mouth as he yells. Y/n looks away from the dead body and at Matt, the blood splatter on her face shining in the kitchen light.

"T-That shot wasn't for her." She mutters softly.

Matt's heart drops to his stomach as he takes a step back,

"W-What?"

He watches as Y/n's grip on the gun tightens, raising it so it's pointed right at him. “P-put it down,” He weakly demands.

“I tried…I really did Matt,” her voice cracks as she shakily holds the gun to his temple. “I tried so hard to get over you, move on, but I loved you, I still love you! You moved on so quick! Getting engaged and having the nerve to get married on my birthday! You bought me flowers!”

It’s clear as day that she’s losing it, not thinking straight at all. Matt doesn’t know what to do, he could try and take the gun away from her, but she could end up killing him in the process. He decides to play his cards right, hoping he could make it out of this alive.

"I-I do love you, I never stopped." He lies through his teeth. The words tasted like vomit, scorching his tongue as easily as they rolled off. The grip on the gun becomes loose, her eyes wide with admiration. Matt sees this and keeps going, apologizing to his late fiance in his head.

"I hated being with Kayla... She was so demanding and she forced me to move away from Nick and Chris. I only proposed because she demanded me to. Why do you think I don't wear my ring?" Y/n looked at his hands and sure enough, there was no ring.

"I chose your birthday to get married on because I wanted to run away from the altar and be with you."

"Y-You want to be with me again?" She allows her arms to drop to the side, the gun still in her hand. Matt gulps as he nods, slowly inching forward towards her. His shaking hands grasp at her waist, pulling her close. "I do, I want to be with you so but- but what?" her tone is anxious. What's holding him back from being with her? " We need to report the murder to the authorities." Y/n quickly shakes her head, tears forming in her eyes. "N-No! Matt I can't!" he grabs her face, attempting to calm her down.

"Hey hey! Calm down! It will be fine! I-If we call now and you confess, and say it was self-defense, you won't be in jail for that long! I'll visit you every day! We can get married and have our kids just like we always planned!" He's in distress, saying any and everything to get her to agree.

Her mind is reeling, nothing making sense to her. She wants to believe him so bad, but something is telling her not to.

Matt can tell she's torn, so he does the only thing he can think of.

He presses his lips against hers, holding her waist tightly. The kiss becomes intense, both of them holding each other tightly but for different reasons.

Y/n held him tightly as if he would disappear, not wanting him to leave her again. Matt holding her tightly hoping she wouldn't hurt him.

She tugs at his shirt, pulling it over his head when a glimmer of silver catches her attention.

A silver engagement ring on a chain, around his neck.

He's a liar. He never planned on visiting her, he doesn't love her anymore. There was no second chapter for Matt and Y/n, this was truly the end of their story.

"I love you," her words are whispered, her lips pressing one last kiss to his as she raised the gun.

"Y/n what are you doing?" She aims the gun at his chest, specifically where his heart sits.

"If I can't have you, no one can." She sniffles and cocks the gun.

"I'm doing this for us."

BAM

Matt stumbles back, his hand immediately flying to his chest. He looks down and sees his own blood staining his hand. he back at her, beginning to choke and sputter on the dark liquid, before dropping to the ground, landing right next to Kayla.

Y/n watches with sad eyes, her heart heavy as Matt goes limp, the light draining from his eyes.

She never thought it would come to this, this isn't how their chapter was supposed to end. Her body is on autopilot, grabbing the phone from her pocket and dialing a number.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"I just killed my ex, it wasn't the best idea. I killed his girlfriend too....I don't know how I got here. I killed him..." She confesses, her eyes still on Matt's dead body.

"You killed your ex? Ma'am could you tell me your loc- I did it on no drugs, I did it all while being sober. I did it for us." her voice void of all emotion.

"Are you still armed?" The emergency call taker asks once hearing the cocking of a gun.

"I'd rather die and be in hell than be in jail without him."

Bam!

The gun falls to the floor as her body topples over.

"Hello?! Ma'am?!"

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

FIRST FIC FOR MUWAP WEEK! sorry to start it off with a dark fic but I really wanted to write something for this song and tbh, this wasn't even the original idea I had for it 😭 but yeah. like and comment plz! repost if you would like! the fic for tmrw will be,

✯ex for a reason ft chris sturniolo✯

TAGLIST🍑

@bernardsgf @bernardsleftbootycheek @blahbel668 @mattfrfr @gdsvhtwa @sturniolo-aali @lily-loves-struniolos @kynda-avery @causeidontlikeagoldrush

@st7rnioioss @carolinalikesthings @mattslolita @suyqa @xxloveralways14 @pepsiimaxx @judespoision

@ivonchetooo1239 @imaslut4kehlani @that-general-simp @m4stermindd @itzdarling @gigisworldsstuff @adoreindie @braindead4l @pettydollie @chrissgirlsstuff @alexis007 @ratatioulle @yamamasjumpercables @luv4kozume @sturnioloslurps @kqyslyho3 @mattslolita @j3tblackt3ars @ilovestarz @lustfulslxt @soimightlikeoldmen69 @tastesousweet @slut4sebastiansallow @whicked-hazlatwhore

[cupidsdolll]

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; best friend!harry styles x best friend!fem!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭; 2.8k

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲; harry’s always been there to lend a listening ear to his best friend. he shows her just how much he cares for her in the best way he knows how.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬; childhood friends to lovers, just fluff.

Y/N and Harry have been friends for as long as either of them can remember, all they can remember is that as little kids Harry would constantly come up to her in school and compliment her choice of nail polish. Time seems to blur by after that, the two young kids would spend their time discussing anything and everything that came to mind, the conversations never seeming to dull as they grew older. They stayed close throughout their school years and the years after they graduated, that was until he signed up for the X-Factor and won, being grouped together with four other boys and hence One Direction was born.

She was always supportive of his dream and wanted nothing more than him to be happy, so she happily sat on the sidelines and cheered from a distance. She was always one of the first to get their albums and she would attempt to get in contact with Harry as much as she could, but his rising fame and busy schedules it was hard to find the time to carry out a conversation. Conversations over the phone skimmed down to brief texts to check in, FaceTime calls filled with jokes turned into seeing him on the television screen, he barely had time for her anymore and it sucked.

Neither one had ever thought about the idea of not having the other in their life and now that it seemed it happening, she wishes they’d gotten the chance to talk about everything before Harry left to be a star. It was a big change to try to adapt to if she’s being honest, she went from seeing him numerous times a week and hanging out in her room to only being able to see him through a screen, it’s almost as if he was never there to begin with. If it weren’t for the woven bracelet sitting on his arm, she’d think he’d completely forgotten about her and that’s the worst thought ever. As happy as she is for him, the thought of him never being in her life again stirs a terrible feeling in her chest.

Years go by and it seems like Harry’s trying harder now to bring back the friendship, he’s texting more responses and making conversation while he’s getting his hair done, she expects pictures each time, sending her snippets of the songs they’re currently working on and she listens to each one right before bed in order to feel closer. She watches him grow up through a screen and magazines, his band goes on more interviews and they release more music and they go on tour. It seems as if so much is happening in such short time, and that feeling in her chest is back again when she realizes she’s missing out on all the major turning points in his life.

It saddens her to think about how much information she actually misses out on one day when she’s sprawled out on her bed in comfy clothes, her phone propped up on a pillow as she stares at the screen. Harry’s face fills the screen as she’s on FaceTime with him while he’s getting his hair ready for their tour.

“I still say you do a little ponytail.” She can’t help but laugh at her poor excuse of a joke, she’s been at this for the past couple minutes and the hairstylist has given up on listening to her ideas. He laughs loudly before clearing his throat.

“I’ll stick with my curls. How’s everything over there?” He asks and she sighs sadly, it’s when she has to be reminded that he isn’t here sucks.

“S’fine, I just miss you.” She doesn’t miss the way his face lights up at her admission.

“Miss you too, hopefully I’ll be home soon for a bit.”

More years passed, he came home whenever he was able to their friendship remained the same, while it’s not back to normal - it’s as normal as it’ll get when you’re friends with a member of a very popular boy band. He’d eagerly wrap her up in his arms before greeting the rest of his family, breathing her scent in deeply and he pulls away with a smile reserved just for her. It’s one that’s full of happiness and longing, she know that smile all too well because it’s the same one she gives him over the phone. She’d follow him around as he talks with everyone, only adding her input in when necessary. His family is hers as well, she’d even started making jokes with Anne about calling her mom in which she’d laugh before agreeing in how she sees her as one of her own.

It was the days he left to go back to his fame that hurts the most, a day full of holding back tears as she bids him goodbye with a tight hug and word’s whispered in each other ears. He would always promise to call as much as he can and she would simply nod with teary eyes. After several emotional goodbyes, Harry finally tears away from her and waves one last goodbye and he’s off. He’s off to go back to being a pop star, surrounded by his new found friends and his adoring fans and she already misses him more than ever.

She stayed with him throughout the entire span of his band and when he’d come home years later and said the band had broken up, she couldn’t help the part that was relieved that he was back for good now. He was home and she couldn’t have been happier, well maybe Anne and Gemma were happier but it doesn’t matter, she has her best friend back and that’s all she cares about. He spent as much time as he could with her and before they know it, the friendship was actually closer than it was before. He’d never judge her for her choice of men she’d date and she was always the one to reapply the coat of paint onto his hands.

Years passed and he released two albums, and in the process of writing another one, he was just stuck on a couple of songs. So while he was stuck working on his music, she’d go on dates. She’d managed to have several relationships throughout the years but Harry was always there to lend an ear as she would about horrible they are. He’d always known how a date when by how she entered the house, a door slamming shut accompanied by the sound of her bag hitting the floor her bag and plopping herself on the bed indicates a bad date or an ending of a relationship and today is no different.

He hears the sound of the door slamming shut accompanied by a loud huff as she stomps towards his bedroom. He can’t help but to sigh as he turns off his phone and setting to the side, ready to give her all of his undivided attention. Her footsteps become louder as she gets closer until he can hear her in front of his door, a soft knock fills the space and he quickly tells her it’s unlocked. She barges in with teary eyes and her body radiating anger, plopping herself into his bed and looking at him for the green light to begin her rant.

“Go ahead, what happened this time?” She nods softly before her mouth opens and words spill out of them.

“He’s such a dickwad, Harry. A misogynistic asswhipe. It’s been a month Har and he’s already talking about he wants me to stay home. He barely even talks to me as is!” He nods as he listens, he can’t help but to feel bad for his best friend to listen to her stories about guys that don’t care about her the way she deserves.

He’s heard almost every story in the book and he despises every time she gets excited about a new date. She’ll get happy and bounce around while she asks for his opinion on what to wear. He listens as she rambles on about hopefully this is different, she just has a feeling, and every time it’s just the same outcome just a different story line. It’s always ghosting after they hook up, they take advantage of her sweet personality, or they always assume she’s gonna put out before they even start the date. He knows she hates having to constantly have sex with so many people but in her words, it’s the only way she’s able to have somewhat of a love life.

It seems almost every other week, it’s the same story just different people and he takes notes of all the names listed. He remembers the most recent one, the one that would barely converse with her until late at night because he doesn’t wanna sleep alone, the conversation would linger for the day after in order to keep her hooked just for it die right back out and get her hopes up. All of her stories break his heart piece by piece, it clicks in his head as he holds her on his arms and allows her to let out all the emotions.

He’ll stay up late as he writes down lyrics in his notebook and record voice notes on his phone as he plays with the structure. He needs this to be just right, to portray the story and emotions he has in his head from his best friend. She never once questioned why he listened more intently now and would tap his thigh after she said certain things, would just bask in the moment and care for her best friend after a bad day.

At the beginning of April, Harry would mention how he’s performing for Coachella and offered to take her with him, so she can experience him in concert first hand. He’d beg and plead but ultimately left the decision up to her. He’d never force her to do anything she didn’t want to do, he just wanted to experience this first hand in a futile attempt to show he was listening to every word she said, to show he cares for her deeply and to attempt to make up for the years they’d lost while he was in One Direction.

She ended up agreeing to go, and he quickly bought her tickets and make sure she has the best seats and the best view always, after all this could possibly change everything and it’s important to him that she gets this experience. So they drove over to California, the sound of their curated playlist just for this occasion blasting through the speakers as they drive down the street. Both parties happy as ever as they continue their journey across states, taking turns singing their favorite songs when they happen to come on.

----

The crowd is loud, full of fans waiting to see their favorite artists. The air is filled with the buzz and excitement mixed in with eager anticipation. Harry slowly walks up on stage and the crowd yells, going crazy as he prances down the catwalk wearing a rainbow sequined jumpsuit, catching the light and reflecting it back onto the fans. She watches with eager eyes as he introduces himself, resulting in more screams and she can’t help but to chuckle lightly at his adoring fans.

The show passes, he sings and she’ll sing along to the ones she knows, she’s happy to be able to watch him in his natural habitat. He pauses the show real quick to introduce the next song.

“Alright, we’re gonna sing a new song for you. This is the first time we’ve played it for anyone, so please be gentle. Who in the audience has ever had a boyfriend?” The crowd erupts into loud yells and whoops in agreement, and her eyes stay on Harry drinking him in.

“Who in the audience has never had a boyfriend?” More screams fill the air and she laughs lightly.

“This song is special to me, and I hope that someday it’ll be special to you as well. To boyfriends everywhere… fuck you.” He smiles lightly and grabs onto the mic, the crowd becoming even louder as the beginning chords begin to play through the speakers.

Boyfriends, they think you’re so easy. They take you for granted.

She can feel her heart shrink and then begin to swell as the melody and the soothing sound of his voice flowing into her ears. His eyes are closed as he sings, and she can’t help the tight feeling in her chest with every line. She knows why he was so adamant on her coming to this show and why he didn’t let her hear the album when he finished with it, it’s all clicking with every minute that passes.

You, you love a fool who knows how just to get under your skin. You, you still open the door. You’re no closer to him, now you’re halfway home. Only calling you when, don’t wanna be alone. Oh, and you go. Why? You don’t know.

She can’t help the sob that escapes from her lips, her body shaking at the realization of just how good of a best friend she has. He’s been there since day one and hasn’t let the fame or fortune change their dynamic and she’s never been more grateful. His eyes open and they wander over the crowd until he spots her, teary eyes as she furiously wipes them away in an attempt for him not to see them.

His heart softens as he watches her, her gaze never leaving him other than to close her eyes to try to stop more tears from falling. He can’t help the warmth rising through his body at the sight, he’s proud of himself for being able to write this song so perfectly but he’s mainly proud of her for choosing to wanting to continue dating, for choosing to keep putting herself out there. He tears his eyes away from her to look over the crowd again, smiling softly at a fan before waving at them, their faces match hers and he smiles. He’s made such an impact and the album isn’t even released yet.

The show ends and he runs off stage only to be greeted with his best friend’s angry face, her cheeks coated with tears as she walks towards him.

“This is why you wanted me to come so bad?” He nods his head as he holds out his arms, he knows she needs a hug.

“Don’t want it! You should’ve told me, you fucker.” He knows she’s been bad at expressing her emotions so she doesn’t mean it to sound so harsh. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots his bodyguard standing straighter, preparing to protect him from the emotional girl but he simply holds his hand out and shakes his head.

“M’sorry lovie. Didn’t wanna ruin the surprise. Wasn’t meant to make you cry.” His voice is soft and she shakes her head and laughs.

“Well you did, and everyone else watching was crying too!” Her voice wavers as she yells, her fist coming in contact with his chest so he quickly wraps his arms around her.

“I will listen to you always, you deserve the best. You don’t deserve the way those boys treat you, promise you’re worth so much more than that.” She sniffles as she wraps her arms around his waist, burrowing her face into his chest.

She feels overwhelmed with everything happening, all springing in her face at once, emotions she never realized she had for her best friend hit her like a truck and that’s all it takes for the dam to break, tears flooding onto his t-shirt as his grip on her tightens. He gently kisses the top of her head before she pulls away, her eyes glassy and puffy but full of love and appreciation.

“Love you, Har. So much.” He smiles before kissing her head once more and she sighs happily.

“I can give you the world, it’s always been you. No one else, just you. I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember.” She nods before her eyes glance to his lips and back, quick enough to see his eyes dart back to hers. The world seems to fade away as they stand in their embrace, staring into each others eyes, in this moment it’s just them.

No crazy fans, no cameras, no loud music. He’s not some famous celebrity, he’s just Harry and she’s just his best friend as they teeter over the thin line. She leans forward slowly, allowing him time to reject her advances and for them to stay friends, but it never comes. He leans in as well, and before they know it, their lips mesh together softly. The kiss is soft, sweet and tender, one that replicates their friendship over the years and the amount of pure and genuine love they shared. She pulls away with a soft giggle and he gives her a gentle squeeze before they head back to their car, hand in hand and both of their bodies radiating nothing but happiness.

He’s never been one to keep secrets, but he’s glad he kept this one.

[vienssunshine]

Good Luck!

pairing: Maki Zenin x fem!reader nsfw/cw: dom!Maki Zenin, hate/breakup sex, alcohol wc: 3.3k author’s note: this is inspired by good luck babe by chappell roan description: a bad breakup compels a male distraction, that is, until you run into your ex.

You stumble into the corner of the hallway and the man you’re pulling along doesn’t even ask if you’re okay. Or maybe he does, you can’t hear over the music blaring through your friend’s apartment. Either way, it doesn’t matter, you’re fucked up and need to be touched, now. 

The door of the closet barely closes before you shut your eyes tight and pull him into a kiss. Immediately he slams the tip of his tongue against your sealed lips, demanding an entrance that you concede, opening your mouth up to him and the wet thick muscle that he plunges in and out of it. Only then you realize you’ve been holding your breath, and you shakily release it through your nose while his palms land on your waist, fingers slipping under the fabric of your going-out top. 

His hands crawl up to your breasts, pawing them, and he groans your name into your mouth. You go to moan his back, but you think you’ve forgotten it. Shit, did you even ask? It doesn’t matter, you don’t need to know it. There’s no feelings, no hard conversations, no real connection. He’s just a man, and that’s what you need him to be.

You don’t want to think about it anymore, and your tug at his shirt prompts him to pull it off fast. So easy. Too easy. You rake your hands over his chest; the hair covering it is rough and prickly. So you move your hands to his head instead, knocking off his ugly baseball cap so you can spread your fingers through his short hair. He grunts, pulling your hips close to his. The raging hard-on pushing through his pants stands in stark contrast to the fact that you’re not wet—it just isn’t the same. No, you push the thought out of your head, you’ve got to keep trying.

Hand in his hair, you bring him down to your neck, having him kiss and suck at it. It feels okay, you could make it work. You tilt your chin up, close your eyes, and think of–

“Are you kidding me?” A voice pierces through the haziness of your head.

You pull the guy off of you and look over to see a figure leaning against the doorframe. Your drunken state does little to buffer the feeling of your heart plummeting into your stomach. 

Maki crosses her arms. “What, only a week since we broke up? And you’re about to fuck some dude?” 

Said dude puts his hands up. “Shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to get in between anything.” His voice is laden with vocal fry and a lot more nasal than you thought. Well, you were preoccupied with doing things that didn’t require it. 

Maki nods her head to the party, “Why don’t you go join everyone else? I need to have a little chat with my ex here.” 

Defiant, you grab his forearm. “No, stay,” you coo. You spare Maki a seething glare when you say, “We were just starting to have some fun.” 

He looks to Maki, whose gaze remains icy and strong, leaving no room for opposition. Decided, the man scrambles to get his shirt from the floor and side-steps past Maki, giving you only a glance as he says, “Uh, I’ll just…I’ll see you later? Okay?”

He doesn’t wait for your response before he’s gone. 

You scoff and begin fixing your disheveled shirt. Just as expected for a man, to be entirely useless and not give you what you want. 

“Get that out of your system, then?” Maki taunts. 

“I would have, had you not-so-kindly interrupted,” you retort.

“It was more like your hookup was interrupting the party.”

“It was not,” you counter.

“The door was wide open. It’s like you were begging me to see.” She scoffs. “Is that what that was? A set-up to make me jealous?”

You refuse to let yourself ask whether it did in fact make her jealous. 

“I didn’t even know you were here,” you respond, “And not that I need to defend myself, but it wasn’t a set-up, it was real.” With a flippant shrug you add, “He’s really hot.” 

She raises an eyebrow. “I thought you weren’t into men.” 

“Well, I’m definitely done with women,” you say, “Men are just easier.” You press your lips together before finishing with, “You don’t get hurt.”

Maki watches you, evaluating your statement. You might have given a little more insight than you meant to. 

She takes a breath and says, “So you’re just done with women, then?” She steps forward. “I have a hard time believing that.” 

“You don’t know what I want,” you return, leaning back against the wall.

“I think I do.” Maki closes the closet door behind her, dimming the room so the only light is what’s coming through the crack of the door. Even if it was pitch-black, you would know her eyes are trained on you; you can feel their weight. She moves forward and places her hands on the wall behind you, her palms planted just above your shoulders. You don’t want to admit it, but it flicks on a small flame in your lower stomach. It makes you actually feel something. 

You glare at her, “Even if you do, it doesn’t matter. We’re broken up.” 

“Doesn’t mean I don’t care anymore.” She leans down into the crook of your neck, her breath ghosting over a now racing pulse. You stiffen, careful to not move an inch; you’re not sure what you’ll do if the lips you’ve been missing for days meet your skin. She moves to the other side of your neck, as if a puma circling its prey and deliberating where to strike. “I don’t like seeing you in pain,” she whispers the words against you, “Seeing you frustrated.” 

“Fuck off,” you snarl, but your voice wavers. “You’re the reason I’m like this.”

Maki hums. “Then I should take responsibility.” She closes the gap, running her lips up your neck to your jawline until they’re right in front of yours. With her face so close, you’re able to feel her words: “If you’ll let me.” 

You’d like to blame it on the alcohol, you really would, but you’re clear-headed and resolute when you smash your lips to hers. Like a hit of a drug, in a second your body fills with bliss. It’s so natural, fulfilling. It makes sense. She’s been gone only a week, but it feels like an eternity passed.

Maki’s hands drop from the wall as she draws you into her, deepening the kiss. One arm snakes around your waist and the other up your back so her fingers can tangle into your hair. You let out a sigh of pleasure, but it’s really one of relief. Then, with a firm grip on your roots, she pulls your head back, exposing your throat so she can duck down and greet it with eager lips and experimental bites. The sensations, unpredictable and delightfully rough, have you melting into the wall behind you, the arms she has wrapped around your body keeping you upright. 

“Fuck, Maki,” you gasp, trying to hold your little moans back. Her attention on your neck, especially your pulse points, is sending sparks of pleasure down into the rest of your body. Your head falls back even further into her hand and she tightens her grip on your hair, sending tingles radiating all over your scalp. 

“Yeah?” she says, certainly leaving a mark just above your collarbone, “Gonna say you missed me yet?”

Your hand lands on the back of her head, pushing her further into your neck, not willing to entertain her with a response. She grins against your skin before sucking another mark onto your collarbone, hard. Your hips shift, thighs rubbing together subconsciously, affected by the warm desire building between them. And with her body pushed into yours, Maki’s able to feel every squirm, every indication that she’s got you worked up and needy.

She releases your hair and brings her face back up to yours. You draw her into a kiss that quickly becomes open-mouthed and messy. The hand around your waist comes up and pulls at the bow tied between your breasts, undoing it with one swift movement so the top falls open, revealing more of your chest. 

“Wearing something so easy to take off? Yeah, you really wanted to get fucked tonight.”

You huff. “So hurry up and do it already.”

Maki pushes the loose fabric away, indulging in the sight of how your bra lays over your exposed chest. If you weren’t feeling so impatient, you would be pleased at how long it takes for her to drag her eyes over you, drinking in every detail like it’s the first time she’s ever seen your body like this.

“I think I’ll take my time,” she concludes, kissing just above your bra, making your breath hitch, “Been so long and all.” 

“More reason why we shouldn’t wait,” you grit out, running your hands over her neck and into her hair. It’s so hot in here, do closets usually get this hot?

She pays no mind to your argument, kissing along the lining of your bra and letting her fingers roam over your breasts. It feels so nice, her lips on your sensitive skin, especially with the occasional swipe of her thumb over your hard nipple pushing through your bra. It’s just that you’re aching much lower than where she’s kissing.

Maki’s not going to go down there, at least not yet. Her sadistic streak will drag this out at a glacial pace until she gets what she wants: the admission that you’ve been missing her as much as she’s been missing you. It doesn’t make you very happy to give into her, to admit you were wrong about breaking up with her and your pursuit of male affection. But you’re really struggling here. You’ve been so worked up, so sexually frustrated and pissed off that you turned to men. Men! And that idiot couldn’t even get you wet, let alone make you finish. Now you’re with someone who can, and, after a week of frustration and bitterness, god do you want to feel better.

You fold. “Maki…please,” you say, “I need it. I need you. I’ve…missed you.” The words ring dangerously true, and, for a second, you worry that’s all she wanted, to be able to say “I told you so.” She could leave right now, entirely satisfied by your desperation. 

Maki tortures you with the few seconds she stays quiet, savoring the words she’s been trying to get you to concede. “Glad you admitted it,” she finally says, looking up from your chest with a glint in her eye that can only be described as devilish before she sinks down to her knees, hands traveling down your waist to your hips as she goes. Her attention elsewhere, she misses your equally devilish grin, so pleased with her decision. Even at the cost of your ego, you love getting what you want, and with Maki, it’s worth it. 

You shudder when her fingers unbutton your shorts and then dip into the waistband and pull them down. Your hands settle on her shoulders as she runs her hand down the fabric of your underwear to nestle into the crevice between your legs.

“So wet already,” she says, rubbing the wetness seeping through your underwear between her fingertips. “So fucking desperate.”

“Put your mouth to better use,” you say, tugging your underwear down to mid-thigh.

“If that’s what my girl wants,” she says, finishing your movement, pulling your underwear down to your ankles with your shorts.

“I’m not your girl,” you argue, kicking off the fabric pooled at your feet.

“We’ll see how you feel later.”

Her fingers splay out over your hips, holding you still as she admires the mess she’s made out of you. Her hot breath fans against the wetness spread between your thighs, only reminding you of how soaking wet you are from hooking up with her for just a few minutes.

Maki puts her hand in between your thighs, once again running her fingers over your folds, only, this time it’s without the buffer of your underwear. You squirm a little, but her hold on your hip keeps you in place. She doesn’t make any attempt to avoid your clit, brushing against it as she dips into the wetness of your folds. The sensation is raw, and you squeeze at her strong shoulders every time she does it.

Then her fingers, thoroughly coated in your wetness, move back to your aching hole, circling and prodding the entrance with her fingertips. Your lower stomach tenses, anticipating the moment she’ll fill you and bring about the sensation you’ve been so desperately trying to replicate.

Instead, she leans forward, placing a kiss on your mound, before opening her mouth and latching it onto your clit, giving it a harsh suck. 

“Maki!” you cry out, either from the shock or the pleasure, before slamming your palm over your mouth. You drop your voice to a whisper-shout. “You can’t surprise me like that, we have to stay quiet,” you say, eyeing the door.

“Keep it down then,” she mumbles into you, fingers digging into the softness of your sides. Her eyes flutter closed and she leans forward to encircle your clit with her mouth again, resuming her licking and sucking. You fight with yourself to keep the reactions internal, but it’s a losing battle, forcing you to clamp your hand over your mouth as you pant and moan.

This is a reason why you broke up. She’s always pushing you past your limit, like fucking you loudly in a closet at your friend’s party. It’s why you went after a man, because it would be quick, emotionless, and quiet. But, you don’t think that kind of hookup would have turned out to be nearly as hot as this one. 

Her tongue swipes over your clit, lathering the bud with its delightful wet texture. Heated pants from her mouth warm your mound and folds. The hand not tasked with quieting your noises tangles into her hair as she goes down on you, leveraging a handful of her dark locks to move her head along with the pace that’ll get you there. 

Tingles shoot through the sides of your abdomen when she presses her tongue flat against your clit, applying a pressure that has the dormant energy in your stomach making itself known. The sensation only intensifies when two fingers slip into you—with no warning, of course—but you find it hard to take issue with it because of how quickly they begin massaging your insides in the exact way you like. 

“Bet that man wouldn’t think to touch you here,” Maki says, pushing her fingertips against your g-spot. She seems pleased when you moan from it. “Wouldn’t know how you like it, either.” She resumes licking you while pumping her fingers in and out, the sound of wet slick and moans filling the closet. The two-front stimulation has your thighs shaking, your poor body barely able to handle how good she’s making you feel. 

“Fuck, Maki,” you moan. Your fingers covering your mouth have fallen open, the gaps letting your shuddery breaths through. Head clouded by lust, you don’t make an effort to muffle yourself again, every thrust of her fingers pushing any rational thought threatening to form from your head. 

“I missed this,” she whispers between licks. She grins against you, “I know you did too.”

“Fuck–ah–fuck…you…” you get out.

“Mhmm,” she hums, amused. 

“This is so…god, it feels so good–m’gonna…”

“Gonna?” she prods, “Keep talking if you want me to keep going.”

Your head falls to the side. “Gonna cum, I’m gonna cum for you. I feel it…I’m almost there.”

Her fingers curl deep inside you, pushing against the walls, intent on realizing your words.

“I feel it,” you repeat, delirious, “It feels so good, fuck, Maki, you make me feel so–”

Your fingers knot into her hair when it happens. A wave of pleasure slams into you and your head falls back against the wall, whole body shaking and surging with pleasure.

“Fuck, ohmygod,” you moan, ecstasy pushing up through your abdomen and down into your thighs. 

You whine her name, begging for reprieve, but she doesn’t listen. Her tight grip on your hip offers you no escape, and she keeps licking and sucking until she gets every drop of pleasure from your orgasm out of you. 

When she’s finished with you, only then can you crouch down against the wall, unable to remain standing. Your breath comes out rapid and uneven and you clutch Maki’s forearm until you can speak again. 

“Too much for you?” Maki says, brushing your disheveled hair out of your face, “Still want a man instead?” She punctuates the taunt with a kiss to your cheek. 

Though your instinct is to tease her back, to deny what you feel, you get out a ‘no’ before turning your face to meet her lips and bring her into a breathy, undoubtably sincere kiss. “I don’t want that.”

“Good,” Maki responds, before kissing you again. 

There’s a knock on the closet door. You both snap your heads towards it; the crack of light shining through is now obscured by a figure outside. 

That man’s familiar voice, entirely unpleasant to hear again, travels through the door. “Hey, sorry, I just…uh…can I come in real quick? Are you done talking?”

“What the fuck?” Maki whispers to you.

You pull your shirt back on, hurrying to tie it. “I–I don’t know–” you raise your voice to call out to him, “Just one second!” 

“Uh…okay,” the man answers. 

You drop your voice back down to a vicious whisper, “I told you we were too loud!” 

“We?” Maki questions, grinning.

You huff, yanking your underwear and shorts back on. “Yes we were too loud,” you say to her, moving on to fixing your hair. Why did Maki have to make such a mess of it? She stares back at you, smiling and unconvinced. “Just…whatever,” you say, taking Maki’s hand and standing up. 

You crack open the door, still flustered, with cum dripping down your legs that you have to hope he doesn’t notice. 

“Hey, how’s it going?” you say, playing it as cool as you can. Maki snickers.

“Hi,” he responds with a wave. Then he drops his hand back down to his side before peering past your shoulder to notice Maki behind you.

You force a smile. “So…can we help you?” you ask. 

“Uh, yeah. I left my lucky hat in there and I need it for beer pong.”

“Your hat?” you say.

“My lucky hat,” he corrects.

“Right,” you say, turning to look into the closet. Sure enough, there’s a baseball cap upside-down in the corner of the closet. “Oh, yeah, it’s just right over there.” You step out of the way so he can reach over and grab it. 

He puts it on—backwards—and says, “Thanks for the help, ladies.” His eyes flick from your face to Maki’s and he clasps his hands together. “Y’know, you’re both pretty hot.” 

You furrow your eyebrows. “Thanks?”

“So…would you like…want to have a threesome?” 

Maki rolls her eyes and with a dry laugh says, “You’re not our type.” She wraps her arm around you and pushes past the man in the doorway.

He watches you both head back to the party. “Uh, so is that a no?”

[xoxoavenger]

Get Used to It

pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

summary: Eddie learns how to paint Y/N's nails so she doesn't have to.

word count: 3215

warnings: none

12 Days of Christmas Masterlist main masterlist

"Oh my God, I hate this shit." Y/N groans, flapping her hands in the air.

"What the hell are you doing?" Eddie pulls his gaze away from the campaign he's been working on for the past hour and a half, confused why she was moving about. A movie they had 'stolen' from Family Video was playing in the background, one they'd have to return tomorrow before someone asked for it. Steve and Robin knew exactly where to look now when their computer showed they had the VHS but it was nowhere to be found.

"Drying my nails." She said, but it was not informative to Eddie. He blinked at her, and she chuckled as she walked over to him.

"Explain?" He begged, turning his back to the counter and leaving his full attention on her.

"I painted them, see?" She put her hands out, the pink nail polish shining in the small trailer. After Eddie actually graduated and became a mechanic, Y/N practically moved in. She already had all her stuff there, having moved away from her parents house when they got mad that she was dating a super senior and still took the job they had gotten her of Steve's dad's secretary. She hated it, but it paid the bills that her and Eddie were left with when Wayne announced he was moving to a small apartment close by, leaving the trailer to his nephew. Her parents had forced her into it, wanting to set up her life, but they had all but kicked her out now.

"I do see." He commented, holding her hands like she was a princess and studying her nails. He pulled them toward his face to kiss the top of her hands, but she pulled them away quickly.

"You can't touch!" She yelled, holding her hands close so that he couldn't touch again. "They're still wet!" Eddie groaned like a child, head facing the ceiling.

"Babe," He whined, and Y/N chuckled.

"I don't want to get them messed up! We just have to be patient."

Two minutes later, however, when Eddie was back at his campaign, Y/N had forgotten her own rule.

"I hate doing this. These fuckers never dry!" She closed her eyes as she laid back on the couch, hands finally stilling.

"But they're gonna look so pretty." Eddie got up from the small desk he had put in the living room, walking to the couch and grabbing her hands. This time she let him, not caring because she was so done with her nails.

"I have to pee." She whined, making Eddie laugh. He began to blow on her nails, and she smiled as she opened her eyes and turned to him. "You're the best."

"I know." He smirked, finally getting to kiss the top of her hand. "If you hate this, why do you do it?" He asked, and she just shrugged.

"I like the end result, but I hate actually painting them and then waiting for forever." Y/N sighed, and he frowned.

"Why don't you just go get them done?" Eddie asked, and she looked at him like he had just asked why she had two eyes.

"Babe," She chuckled, looking at him as if he was a child. "We live in a trailer. We don't have money to get my nails done every three weeks." She seemed fine, still smiling as if this was her favorite conversation and they weren't talking about how they were poor. Eddie's eyes widened as an idea popped in his head. He just smiled up at her and continued to blow on her fingers to finish drying.

~

They didn't have black nail polish. This was a problem.

But it was not going to deter Eddie. He felt like he was put on this earth for Y/N; he would do whatever it took to make her happy.

So, when Eddie walked into the shop that morning, he made sure to wear his spikiest, punk rock outfit. He glared at everyone, not because he was insecure about it, but because he would be damned if anyone made him feel bad for doing something for his girl.

So he went through his day with very little people talking to him, until that bitch came in.

"Hello, ma'am, what can I do for ya?" He asked, elbows leaning on the counter and leaving his dark blue painted nails in full view.

"I don't associate with your kind." The woman crossed her arms and looked up, as if Eddie were beneath her. He was not, and she was going to know about it. "Do you have anyone else I can talk to?"

"My kind?" Eddie stands up straight and crosses his arms, his angry stare going back onto his face. He knew what the lady was talking about. "Get the fuck out." He points at the door.

"Gladly." Eddie rolls his eyes as the woman leaves, looking at the polish. And after everything that happened that day, all he can think is that these look shoddy at best. He's gotta get better if he wants to paint Y/N's nails in three weeks.

When he gets home, Y/N doesn't notice that his nails are painted as she tells him something about the kids, stirring something in a large bowl - probably dinner. He decides to take the polish off with the remover in their room, not wanting to give away his surprise. When he walks back out, Y/N is putting something in the oven.

"How was your day?" She asks, leaning against the the counter. Eddie leans forward to kiss her, and she leans in to deepen it before he pulls back with a smirk.

"Long. A rude customer, but whatever." Eddie isn't interested in his day. "How was yours?" He knows as soon as she lets out a sigh that it was not a good day.

"I'm so tired." She says simply, and that's how he knows it was a bad day.

"Do you wanna take a little nap? I can finish dinner." He tells her, and she sags in happiness.

"You're too good, Eds." She walks around the island to kiss Eddie, and he squeezes her ass to make her laugh.

"I love you," He tells her, letting her go and smiling down at her.

"I love you more." She tells him, going back into the room, sighing as she stripped and laid in bed.

Eddie had no idea how to cook dinner, and he did burn what Y/N was making, but she sleepily ate it without complaining and then made him get in the shower with her before passing the fuck out on the bed, completely naked.

~

Everyday, after Y/N had left but before Eddie had to go to work, he painted his nails outside, so the smell didn't give anything away in the trailer. If he did well and went fast enough, he had time to take it off. If he didn't, he'd just take it off as soon as he got home, using the cover of a shower to rub his nails with acetone. It worked fine until his off day, the day he had the Hellfire kids at his place. Because it was his day off, he had used a bright nail polish, one that stuck out against his heavy metal look. And then he got ready for the campaign and completely forgot about it.

"Hey, man," Dustin interrupts Eddie, making the table become quiet as everyone stared. They were sitting outside, the only sound the birds chirping. "What the fuck is on your nails?" He hadn't even gotten to the beginning of the campaign, which made him angry enough that he didn't pay attention to what Dustin had actually said.

"You little shit," Eddie stood and put his hands on the table as he stood, moving one to pointing at Dustin. "You know there's no talking when I'm talking." And as he points he realizes that his nails are painted bright pink.

Fuck.

"None of you are gonna say a word of this to anyone. Got it?" He puts on his most threatening look, and almost all the kids nod. Almost.

"Why the hell are your nails painted?" Mike asks, and Eddie closes his eyes and tilts his head in annoyance.

"Because I am in love." Eddie snaps, clicking his jaw. He's going to purposefully go off script to murder these gremlins in this campaign.

"What does that even mean?" Lucas whispers, looking at the others. Eddie sighs, because he knows he's gonna have to explain.

"I am learning how to paint nails, alright? Y/N likes her nails painted but she hates actually painting them, so I'm gonna start painting them for her." Eddie sits back down, hand over his eyes waiting for the shit talking to start.

"That's actually really cute." Gareth said finally, and Eddie looked up to see the rest of the boys staring at him in wonder.

"I learned how to paint nails after everything that happened with Max." Lucas pipes up, and everyone nods. They all remember how Max had to relearn how to do basically everything after breaking as many bones as she did, but no one knew that Lucas had been the one to make sure her nails were painted. Eddie mentally scratches Lucas off the list of shits to kill today.

After that they all play D&D, and no one brings it up again. But Eddie feels a little bit better, and he can't wait for Y/N to want her nails done again.

"If any of you motherfuckers decide to tell anyone and ruin the surprise for Y/N, you're done. Never playin' this game again, got it?" They didn't look too worried, but Eddie was fairly confident that his point got through.

"You're so dramatic." Erica rolled her eyes, just wanting to get on with the game.

"I'm being so serious." He tells them, eyes wide and crazy.

"We know. We won't say anything." Will assures him, and Eddie resists the urge to roll his eyes once more. He knows Will wouldn't say anything, even without a threat. It's Dustin and Mike he's worried about. He'll have to move his plan forward, because the little shits will probably tell Steve or Nancy but leave out the surprise part and then he'll have to kick everyone out of his trailer until he calms down.

So, the next day he has all the colors laid out on the table, a paper towel in the middle, waiting for Y/N to get home. He sits there nervously, TV playing in the background. He almost pisses his pants with nerves when the door opens.

"Oh my God, I'm so glad today is over. Fuckin' J-" She cuts herself off as she looks at Eddie, who is staring at her with the biggest, most adorable look on his face; eyes wide and mouth parted as he sat in front of every nail polish she owned and a couple she had never seen before. "Ed, what," She couldn't even finish her sentence, because she didn't even know what to say.

"I know how much you hate painting your nails and waiting for them to dry and getting polish everywhere," He starts, and her eyes start to get teary as she chokes down her emotion. "So I learned how to paint nails. I can even do it with my left hand." He tells her, smiling widely.

"You've been painting your nails?" She asks, looking at his clean nails.

"I've been taking it off before you get home." He tells her, and she can't take it anymore, she jumps over the coffee table and launches herself into his lap to hug him tightly.

"I can't believe you would do this for me." She whispers into his ear, heart fluttering as he runs his hands up and down her back.

"I love you so much." And in that moment, she knows he's the one. If he would teach himself how to paint nails to surprise her, she couldn't wait for him to paint his daughters nails, or even his sons. He would learn how to do something over and over and over and over just to make his family happy.

She wanted to marry Eddie Munson. Spend the rest of her life with him.

"I love you more." She knew she would never deserve this man.

~

"And then he blew on my nails while we watched Return of the Jedi. I didn't have to do a thing and look!" Y/N showed her nails to Robin and Nancy, who blinked at her.

"What the fuck?" Nancy asked, grabbing her hand and staring. "Can he talk to Jonathan and teach him?" She asks, looking back up at Y/N.

"I've never dated anyone who could paint nails that good." Robin tells them, taking her turn to look at Y/N's nails. They were plain, just a light shade of yellow that would go perfect with the warming temperature that came with the summer season.

"He taught himself. Painted his nails everyday for, like, a month." Y/N tells them, heart fluttering as she talks about him.

"There's no way." Nancy said, leaning back.

"What?" Y/N chuckled, taking her hand back.

"You won the lottery." Robin finishes Nancy's thought, and Y/N just stares at them as her cheeks heat up.

"Oh, come on, you guys have great partners-"

"If you don't marry that man," Nancy started, finger pointing at Y/N. "Well, I'd say someone else will, but I doubt he'd marry anyone else." Y/N's heart flutters at this, the way it's a well known fact that Eddie is so in love with Y/N that he would never marry anyone else.

"I'm trying." She tells them, the thought of getting married to Eddie making her heart race.

~

"Why this color, baby?" She asks as Eddie begins to paint her nails white. He'd been painting her nails for months now, and every time he would tell her why he picked that color. White was new. She wasn't even sure she had owned white nail polish, and this bottle looked like it had just been bought.

"Because it goes with everything." He tells her, tongue poking out as he concentrated. "And I may like the difference between the white of your nails and my leather jacket." He tells her, and her heart raced.

"Okay," She tells him, feeling like a pile of goo at his words.

When her nails are dry, they go to bed, but Eddie stays awake. He knows he should go to sleep, that even though they both have the day off it's gonna be a long day and he needs sleep.

But he barely closes his eyes before his girl is on top of him, sun filtering through their shitty curtains and illuminating her face and hair, which is falling forward.

"G'mornin'." He rasps, and she smiles and kisses him.

"Good morning." She whispers against his lips, and he groans, because he knows they're going to be late to their reservations - yeah, he made reservations - at the fancy new place in town. She didn't know about the reservations, because today was meant to be surprise after surprise for her.

"We actually have to get dressed." He tells her, one look at the clock confirming that they did in fact not have time for his favorite activity.

"For what?" She has a dangerous smile on her face, and Eddie has to look away.

"I made us reservations." This makes Y/N pause sitting up on him.

"You made reservations." At his nod, she blinks and nods with him. "Where? The diner?" She asks which a chuckle.

"Uh, no." He tells her, pushing her back onto the bed and getting, up, because otherwise he would never get up. "At Novo's." When he tells her this he can practically feel her confusion.

"Babe," She stares as he begins to strip, getting in the shower.

"You're not following me in here." He calls, locking the door to the bathroom.

"Asshole!" She calls, but he smirks.

~

Eddie is shaking.

He can't tell if Y/N knows, because she just smiles as she looks around through the park that Eddie had suggested they stroll through.

"Oh, shit, hold on." He starts, replaying his practices in his head. He's never been this nervous in his entire life. Y/N stops and lets him kneel down, and he pretends to tie his shoe. His hand shakes as he reaches into his pocket and grabs the box. When he looks up at her, her eyes are wide and there's a smile on her face. She's not quite sure what's going on.

"Y/N," His voice is shaking, so he clears his throat. "I have never wanted to get married. I didn't think I was cut out for my own family. I thought I was destined to stay in the trailer park. And then I met you."

"Eddie," She whispers, tears beginning to fall down her face.

"For you, I would stay in the trailer my whole life. I want to have a family. I want to get married." He tells her, feeling his eyes begin to water. "Y/N, I love you more than I have ever loved anything. I didn't know this kind of love could exist. I want to spend the rest of my life with you." He can't get the words out because Y/N's got one hand over her mouth, the other shaking as she stretches it out to him.

"Yes," She whispers, and Eddie chuckles.

"Baby, I haven't asked you yet." He tells her.

"I will marry you." She says in response,

"You haven't even seen the ring." He watches her let out a watery laugh.

"Oh my God, shut up and put a ring on it." She cries, and he laughs with her, opening the box, putting the ring on her finger and standing to kiss her deeply. Her arms go around his neck as he pulls her waist closer to him, smiles breaking their kiss as their tears mingle.

"I love you so much." He tells her and she just laughs.

"I'd hope so." She kisses him once more before looking at her hand. "You painted my nails white for the proposal." She feels another wave of tears rush down her cheeks and he just kisses her again.

"I'm never going to stop kissing you." He tells her, and she just laughs.

"I'm assuming we have a party to go to." She tells him, knowing he would have Steve throwing a get together at his house very soon, and that they would have to tell the kids then because those little shits wouldn't have kept their mouths shut if they already knew.

"Well, I may have scheduled in some time for us to be alone. Ya know, to consummate the engagement." He tells her, and she just laughs.

"Of course you did." She lets him kiss her again, much too intimate for a park.

"I love you, wife." He mutters, and she feels everything flutter; her heart, her veins, her stomach.

"I love you more, husband." And she feels the moment Eddie has the same reaction.

"I could get used to this." She grabs his hand and pulls him to the van, knowing they were going to have to stop in a parking lot and then go to the party.

"Get used to it, husband."

//

tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187  @one-sweet-gubler @sadbitchfangirl @gloryekaterina @alexshaff2002 @m-rae23 @icequeen1371 @mcueveryday @xxhellfirebunnyxx @parkershoco @feelinglikeineedlotsofnaps @peculiarwren

[greensimp]

Gyutaro falling in love with a pregnant S/O - with no husband or whose husband left her - and adopting her child as his? 🥺

I love this idea! I'm already doing a fic where the child is biologically his, but it would definitely be more realistic for Gyutaro to acquire a child through adopting one. Whether he'd actually do that or not is irrelevant, anything can happen in fanfiction >:)

__________________________________________________

Cannon!Gyutaro x Pregnant!Reader

TW: implied/referenced sex work, foul language A/N: Headcannon-ish format, but more detailed than the average one. Reader is obviously AFAB.

___________________________________________________

You live in Rashamon. Like most girls in the entertainment district, you did what you could to survive. And, well, that meant doing a lot of unsavory things.

It was an inevitability that you’d end up pregnant, but unlike many women who do in your town of origin, you were determined to give your baby a good life.

You had no idea who the father was, but you had a feeling that he wouldn’t be much help anyway.

You decided to beg for a place in one of the many houses of Yoshiwara, but you were unsurprisingly shot down at the door once you mentioned you were with child. At least, until you arrived at the Kyogoku house.

Much to your surprise, you were given a place in the house in exchange for your services as a house maid. While you weren’t required to take clients, you were expected to work a lot. That included assisting the Oiran with her many dress changings throughout the day.

This is how you’d catch the attention of Gyutaro.

At first, he’d be indifferent to your existence, only occasionally listening in to your conversations with Daki from within her body. You aren’t the first poor girl to tend to his sister, and you most certainly wont be the last.

However, something you mentioned one day would cause him to shift a bit.

You were from Rashamon.

It was a simple response to a prompt from Daki, but the way you said it tugged at a long-forgotten part of his brain.

Soon, he’d ask you questions vicariously through his sister, much to her annoyance.

The more he learned about your situation, the more interested he would become.

Around the 6-month mark of your pregnancy, it was evident that you were becoming unfit to work like how you’ve been doing. So, you were allowed more bedrest.

You absence did not go unnoticed by Gyutaro, who at this point had been technically talking to you for about 3 months through his sister.

He wouldn’t admit it, but he was beginning to care about your progress.

It would frustrate him to no end. To the point where Daki would forcefully eject him for writhing around so much.

“You need to take out this crap somewhere else, brother! Or else I’ll just eat the bitch and say she ran off-“

Oh he didn’t like that.

One stone cold glare was enough to confirm Daki’s suspicions.

She couldn’t believe her brother was beginning to care about a human. How bothersome.

“Fine, go show yourself to her, then. I’m sure she’ll just jump all over you looking like that.”

He’d indignantly storm off to go and vent, but he wasn’t very careful about it because the second he stepped out of the door he bumped right into you.

You’d yelp in surprise and begin to fall, but he’d panic and catch you before you hit the ground.

You’d seen him.

This was bad.

You’d look up at him in surprise, instantly taking notice of the unnatural bodily proportions and eye color. However, you wouldn’t start screaming or try to run away. In fact, you’d stare.

Daki would immediately try to trap you in her belt, as now you’d know too much, but Gyutaro would squash it with his foot in anger and fear.

��Brother! She saw you! I can’t let her just walk away!”

He wouldn’t understand it, but he’d feel this overwhelming urge to protect you.

“Don’t you dare.”

Daki would be pissed. Pissed and betrayed that he’d choose the well-being of a random woman over his own sister. Had these past 100 years meant nothing?!

“What has gotten into you! She’s just a human!”

You’d just be standing awkwardly behind the strange demonic entity that was suddenly hellbent on protecting you from your Oiran, who was supposedly the sister of said demonic entity. You’d think this was some kind of weird fever dream.

“Wh-what’s going on?!”

Gyutaro would snap his gaze to you, the way his face softened sending a strange tingly feeling through your stomach.

Gyutaro, on the other hand, would be extremely conflicted. There’s this pregnant human woman he, for whatever reason, grew attached to, and his beloved sister. Would he be able to make some kind of dynamic work with you two? One where you can co-exist?

He’d pick you up in a panic and bolt down the hall, leaving Daki scrambling to catch him with her Obi. She was too slow, though.

Wouldn’t this be a funny story to tell years from now. Your child’s adoptive father kidnapping you from his own sister. Well, that actually is what happened, but we won’t talk about it very often for Daki’s sake (she’s very embarrassed).

Anyway, back to running away.

He’d run with you like a bat out of hell straight out of Yoshiwara.

You’d, of course, be stressed the hell out, so he’d have to make the supernatural speed part of the escape a short-lived venture.

He’d set you down before pacing around you and mumbling to himself, neurotically scratching at his skin until he bled.

Out of worry, you’d grab his arm to snap him out of it, telling him that it was bad for him. Of course, when he began to actively regenerate before your eyes, you shot your hand back and stared in awe.

“Y-you’re a demon, aren’t you?”

Shit shit shit shit he didn’t know what to do. Perplexingly enough, however, you wouldn’t act scared.

You felt as though this man had good intentions, and… well… he did look a lil’ pretty… okay very pretty.

“Does… does that not freak you out?”

You’d place your hands on your tummy in thought, the sight of which made an unexpected wave of butterflies shoot through his stomach.

“Well… maybe a little… I don’t really know much about them other than they eat people. Although, I feel like if you were going to eat me, you would have done it already…”

He didn’t know if he liked your blind trust in him or not. Of course, HE knew his intentions were not to hurt you, but how would YOU know that?

Turns out, you would just be really good at reading people. It saved your life a lot when you lived in Rashamon, that fact eventually dawning on Gyutaro in the future.

Gyutaro would finally get to genuinely talk to you on that night. And boy did you two talk.

He learned more than he probably should have for you having just met him hours before.

He would learn that you yearned for a little home in the mountains away from Yoshiwara so you could raise your child without the threat of the dangerous men that plagued your childhood. That was why you were working so hard even though you were supposed to be resting.

The more you indulged in his questions, the more he wanted to give you what you wanted. Your resolve to break your familial cycle of sex work and thievery for a life of peace for your baby only deepened his feelings for you. You weren’t pathetic. You weren’t selfish. You deserved more than this place. You deserved what he and his sister never received.

After convincing Daki to not kill you, he’d visit you in your room every night for hours at a time.

Eventually, he’d do it. He’d be unable to ignore that he’d actually fallen in love with you. He was physically unable to hurt you in any way. Intentionally at least. The mere thought of you bleeding or crying for help would send him into a panic attack. It would be quick, awkward even, but he’d grab you by the cheeks and kiss you.

And you’d kiss back. Why wouldn’t you? He’d become a rock in your life before you had even realized it. You were looking forward to his visits. He’d always bring you gifts and food, it was so obvious he was trying to court you.

After he’d confess, he would secretly set off into the night after you fall asleep to work on a special present for you.

What is this present?

Well, he wouldn’t be done with it until right before you were due to give birth, but he managed with a little help from Daki.

He’d blindfold you and gently carry you into the night, not allowing you to peek.

Once he’d arrive at his destination, he’d set you down and ask you to close your eyes, which you would do.

Then, when he’d tell you to open them, you’d burst into tears.

A little house…

It would overlook a beautiful clearing in the forest where a river full of fish would cut through it. It would never flood, because it was on a hill. You’d never go hungry, because the land was fertile. You’d never have to worry about muggers or assaults from creepy men ever again.

You would bawl into his chest and thank him a million times.

You were forever in his debt, but he’d never ask anything of you. Your love was enough for him.

The house was quaint, and you barely got through the little tour he gave you until you reached the nursery.

That’s where you swear you could have fainted.

“You thought about them?”

“Of course.”

“Does… does this mean you….”

You wouldn’t be able to finish before bursting into a fit of sobs again.

But he knew what you meant.

“If you’ll let me…”

He’d adopt the baby as his own.

[modanisgf]

028. A PEARL (WRITTEN)

wc: <1k

prev | next | masterlist

unfortunately for you, you felt so alone on your ‘date’ that you stayed in the rain for a while causing you to wake up sick. you felt horrible that morning, being sick and sad didn’t mix well.

you tried not to cry but you couldn’t help it, you thought you and hanni had finally made amends but apparently you were wrong. who would ever make their girlfriend wait for them at a date?

did hanni even love you?

thoughts about what hanni truly felt for you ran through your mind, until you decided to close your eyes again refusing to look at your phone. you hoped nobody would come by your house, especially not hanni as right now you needed anything but to see the girl’s face. you think you would breakdown in front of her, something she didn’t need to see.

you knew your friends had their concerns for you, but you hoped they’ve known you long enough now to give you some space before checking up. especially when it dealt with love, dating wasn’t easy as an actor nobody wanted to deal with the harsh reality of fame so when you finally found hanni you felt extremely happy.

you thought she would understand your problems, but maybe she just wanted to mess with you. but who really knows? all you could do was lay in your bed, reality setting in as you finally closed your eyes drifting off to a deep sleep.

—

you were awoken by a sudden crash, presumably downstairs. you got up from bed quickly, rushing down your stairs to be met with people in your kitchen.

“riki! you’re so damn loud!” hyein whisper yells, her voice getting softer as she noticed you.

“hi yn..” hyein says, giving you a nervous smile.

“how the hell did you guys get in my house?” you ask, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“you gave danielle an extra key when she lived here for a bit.” hyein replies, to which you sigh.

“look, i love you guys so much but i really just think now isn’t the time.” you say, your friends looking at you with pity.

their looks did nothing to comfort you, just reminding you how real this situation was. you diverted your attention from them, looking through an open window to see the rain back again. it was like it knew when you were sad, coming back to make you feel even worse everytime.

“well, we made you soup!” danielle says, making you smile a bit.

“thank you guys. i appreciate it.” you say sheepishly, you were embarrassed they had to see you like this.

it had been a long time since you’d been heartbroken like this, only sunoo and danielle knew about your past relationships the two being your friends during it. you felt you could never find peace in love, but you tried to push those feelings aside putting on your best face for your friends especially hyein and riki.

you all went to sit in your living room, hyein turning on a show creating a quiet conversation between your friends. hyein and riki even whisper fighting, making you laugh.

for some reason your laugh comforted your friends, the group smiling whenever you did happy that their presence made you feel at least a bit better. you focused on the show, invested in whatever plot line was being solved now.

your phone was long forgotten, the rest of your friends also having theirs off for the sake of you. little did you all know, hanni wasn’t doing amazing either.

—

hanni couldn’t believe herself, she feel asleep when you wanted her to meet up with you. you weren’t answering her texts, or anything the only thing about you she had was hyein telling her to watch out on twitter, riki commenting and agreeing aswell.

she had to stop herself from tears, why weren’t you answering her? couldn’t you let her explain herself? hanni had never wanted someone more than you, your presence giving her nothing but happiness and peace. she hoped you didn’t think she hated you, but the possibility was strong. maybe you were just taking a quick internet break? the possibilities only ran through her mind at a even more rapid pace as each one passed on, making her feel crazy.

hanni was texting minji in panic, the girl on the other end doing her best to comfort hanni but nothing seemed to work. hanni valued you too much, and she didn’t know what she would do without you. she wanted a future with you, to see you walk down the aisle slowly approaching her with your eyes locked on hers. she wanted you two to have a house together, having a family of two cats and four dogs. okay— maybe she was getting a bit carried away, but the point is hanni had nothing but strong love for you.

she needed to get you back, no matter what she has to do.

your love went too deep for a simple misunderstanding to ruin it all, hanni swore she wouldn’t let it happen.

TAGS 🏷️ (CLOSED): @jayjj7 @haerinsloverr @aribunnu @masuowo @multiliker @winieter @sewiouslyz @edenzeepy @popasi @home2venus @ghstvr @technicallyimportantsweets @he------len @yukianism @yeetaberry127 @haechansbbg @linnnsworld @sixflame438 @emotionallyrin @gtfoiydlyj @inosfavgf @rvoulte @hotluvlet

a/n— next few chapters might be crazy guys writing sad stuff while emo is NOT a good idea..