#there has been a very uncomfortable shift recently and i do not like where this is going

[laurelwinchester]

no but seriously i don't know who needs to hear this but having casual sex does not make you somehow less of a person. it does not make you bad. it does not make you less deserving of a good life. it does not mean you need to chase redemption or forgiveness. there is nothing to be ashamed of. as long as all parties are consenting, i promise it's okay to have sex. it's okay to have a little, it's okay to have a lot. it's okay to have none at all. none of this has any impact on how worthy you are of love and happiness and peace. i am genuinely concerned that so many young people seem to think otherwise these days.

[drabblesandimagines]

Nettle Soup

Halsin x female reader 5,776 words of fluffy nonsense

--

It had started as an innocent tickle at the very back of your throat, something you’d barely given more than a moment’s thought to - fair enough due to the fact you had a tadpole squirming around in your skull to contend with. A day or so later, it had graduated from a tickle to an annoying and stubborn irritation which very much demanded attention – wouldn’t shift despite how many times you’d tried.

It would clear, surely, you thought, especially since the curse had lifted from the land and you were on your way towards Baldur’s Gate at last.

Except it didn’t.

If anything, it got worse - like you’d swallowed handfuls of crushed glass, the way it stung with every swallow – accompanied by heavy limbs and growing fatigue, no matter how much sleep you managed. Perhaps that was hardly surprising after the number of fights you’d undertaken recently, not quite as young as you once were. 

Although not comfortable with the hitchhiker in your skull, you were at least confident it wasn’t the first sign of ceremorphosis, though the concern that Lae’zel may try to slit your throat if you voiced any notion of feeling unwell remained, so you kept silent.

You powered on, as you always do.

Gale frowned when you didn’t finish your portion of stew that evening, all sat around the campfire. He prided himself on keeping the party well-fed and anything but clean bowls appeared to be a personal affront to his skill. It wasn’t that you felt nauseous, just a lack of appetite made the quarter you had managed sit too heavy in your stomach.

“Was it not to your liking?” The wizard hovers over your shoulder. “While I’ll admit it is a repeated recipe from a few days ago, you enjoyed it well enough then.”

“No, no, it’s wonderful, Gale.” You smile, trying to appease his anxieties by laying a hand on your stomach. “It’s just filling – I’m stuffed already.”

“I recall you had second helpings.”

Oh, he had you there. Think.

“We had just fought Ketheric Thorn too, quite difference from the day’s leisurely pace.”

“Hm.” His pout remains, and the uncomfortable feeling in your stomach has been joined by guilt.

“Hardly a repeated recipe, though. I’m sure I noted something different on the palate?”

That did the trick, a wistful smile now gracing his face. “Ah, yes, I did stumble upon some splendid wild garlic that I thought would enhance the flavour profile – how kind of you to notice.”

You nod along, politely, as Gale tells his tale – something about how it elevates the spices - not noticing the wood elf staring at you curiously from across the circle.

You’re thankful it’s not your turn to keep watch as the githyanki takes her place in the centre of the camp, sword laying ready in her lap. You don’t wish to dawdle around the campfire like you do most nights, worried she might sense something off about you and jump to conclusions, so you bid the remaining members of the party goodnight and walk at a brisk pace to the safety of your tent…

..only for an icy cold grip around your elbow to jerk you into their own, your back now pressed against a firm chest with a thud.

“Surprised, darling?” Astarion murmurs into your crown, his other arm wrapped around your waist. “I thought you better than that. Where are you off to in such a hurry?”

“Bed.” You reply as brightly as possible, overcompensating for how rotten you’re now feeling.

“Oh, but the evening is still so young! I have a fine idea that will while away the hours, if you would be so very kind.” He drops his grip on your elbow and ghosts his hand up your side, making you squirm.

“Not tonight, Astarion.” You shake your head. Maybe it had been a mistake to let him feed off you after that first night. “I’m tired.”

“I can wait until you’re asleep, my sweet.” His hand finally reaches the back of your neck, giving it a slight squeeze. “I’ll be sure not to disturb any of your pretty dreams.”

“No.” Your tone is firm, maybe a little too firm as the vampire stiffens against you and drops his hand, causing your stomach to squirm with guilt once again. “Another night, I’m all yours – I promise.”

Astarion spins you around and you nearly lose your footing – a fact not missed by the vampire as his face transforms from annoyance at your denial to mild concern.

“My, you are out of sorts.” He sighs, before he plasters on a smile that you know to be fake. “Very well, darling. Off to bed you pop.”

You nod a thanks and hurry out of his tent, casting your eyes to the ground in the hopes of keeping steadier footing, only to collide into something firm.

A large, solid chest, covered in familiar druidic garb.

“My sincere apologies,” two warm hands grasp your upper arms, steadying you once again. “I am afraid I did not see you there. Are you all right?”

Your scalp tingles from the gravelly tones of Halsin’s voice, a warmth flushing over your cheeks as you look up at the former archdruid, his brow furrowed in concern.

“I’m fine, Halsin. And I should be the one apologizing - I wasn’t looking where I was going. Are you okay?”

He chuckles at your concern. “Of course. Although you have remained polite by not yet mentioning my stature, I am sure you have noticed the comparison between us, little one.”

Although one to lose your temper with the use of such pet names in inns or in combat, there is something entirely different when Halsin says it. You know it is not meant to be patronizing, more a sign of his age, really – it’s wholeheartedly sincere, affectionate, perhaps even… loving? Well, you could still dream, couldn’t you? Even though he’d kindly turned you down at the celebration for the tieflings at camp all those weeks ago, you’d be a liar if you didn’t still kindle a flame of affection for the large elf. You smile, wryly. “I suppose I have.”

“Forgive me for prying, but is anything the matter? You seemed in quite the hurry after supper. I confess I’d hoped to catch you for a moment.”

Your throat stings again as you swallow. Halsin is a healer - he would be the one to mention it to…

But you don’t want to be a bother, especially so soon after Thaniel. What was a sore throat in comparison to being trapped within the Shadowrealm for near on a century? Pathetic, really.

You shrug it off, “A little tired, nothing an early night won’t sort. What did you wish to speak about?”

He smiles at your response, though you notice it doesn’t reach his eyes. You wish you weren’t so observant of him to be able to identify which are real and which are polite.

“Ah, no, nothing of urgency. Please, do not let me keep you from your well-deserved rest any longer.”

You eye your tent in the distance, but hesitate all the same. “Are you sure?”

“Quite.” He squeezes your upper arms, gently, before letting go. “I bid you sweet dreams and a peaceful sleep.”

--

You don’t even fall asleep deeply enough to dream – tossing and turning for hours, one moment feeling too hot and then another too cold, periodically drinking from your waterskin trying to ease the rawness of your throat.

You give up at dawn, quickly dressing in your armor. Instead of waiting for your companions to rise, you set your sight on climbing the hill not far off from camp - it should provide a good vista of the road ahead to Baldur’s Gate. It shouldn’t be a long walk either, you’ll be there and back before even Karlach has roused, usually the last to do so.

You had only made it a quarter of the way up the admittedly gentle incline when you start to feel unusually winded from the exercise – it feels as if you are not quite breathing deep enough, oxygen stagnating at the top of your lungs. Perhaps you’d laced your armour too tight that morning in your haste to get moving? The sun is still only a little over the horizon, given the earliness of the hour, but you feel so very warm, a sheen of sweat already on your brow.

You raise a weary hand to wipe it away, but your vision swims in response and you stumble, all reflexes abandoning you and your face meets the dirt.

--

Halsin lets out a sigh as he rubs his back against the bark in his bear form, the ridges appeasing an itch that had been bothering him since he had wildshaped. It has been a while since he’d indulged the bear for purely pleasure and not combat – it hadn’t felt right to do so when traveling through the shadow cursed lands.

He’d woken early, as usual, and decided to take advantage of an hour or so to patrol the area before the plan would be to head towards Baldur’s Gate. Heading to the city wasn’t something he was looking forward to – to be cut off from the nature he so adored made he feel uneasy - but he’d made a vow that he intended to keep.

A familiar, invigorating smell crosses his snout, carried in the gentle breeze. He inhales it deeply, being drawn him from his thoughts.

White violet, jasmine, a touch of sandalwood…

You.

It is too strong a scent to have drifted in from camp, which must mean you’re close by. He drops down to all four paws and begins to follow the trail, curious as to what has brought you out so early and, perhaps selfishly, hoping to take advantage of your company.

He doesn’t have to travel far, though, lumbering a hundred or so metres out of the wood that lines the path. His stomach sinks when he sees you sprawled out on your front down the incline, unmoving, eyes open in a blank stare in his direction.

The next thing you were aware of was thundering paws on the earth, a flash of gold and then warm, heavy palms turning you over to face the dawn sky. A very concerned wood elf soon fills your vision, pressing a hand to your cheek as his eyes scan you over, frantically.

“What is it, my heart? Speak to me.” Heart…? The world goes black.

--

You wake up slowly. Your eyelids feel heavy, drifting in and out of consciousness until, finally, you manage to crack both eyes open to find yourself swaddled in unfamiliar furs and blinking up at an equally unfamiliar ceiling.

No, not ceiling, but the inside of a tent and one that is not your own. Various herbs and flowers are hung from the support pole across the top, seemingly set out to dry, dotted between other hand-made trinkets. There’s a scent of wood smoke, flowers, freshly cut grass, and something enticingly sweet...

You sit up in alarm, trying to work out where you are, panic rising in your already tight chest when your eyes meet those of the large wood elf’s, sat only a little way to the side of the bed roll.

“Ah-ah,” Halsin chides with a sympathetic smile, pushing you back down easily with one large palm upon your shoulder. “Please - you must rest.”

“This isn’t my tent.” Your voice is painfully hoarse, but you lay your head back on the pillow in defeat and watch as he tugs the furs back up to under your chin - the brief moment you had been upright a chill had prickled across your skin, almost down to your very bones.

“That is true.” The former archdruid nods, looking a little bashful. “We were camped at quite opposite ends this time round.” Your party did tend to spread the tents out across the ground you used, rather than all cluster together. “I thought it best to bring you here, where I have everything to hand to easily prepare, rather than go to and fro whilst I oversee your recovery.”

“Recov-” You don’t reach the end of the word as a horrendous, wracking cough emerges deep within your chest. You sit up again in panic, hoping it will cease. Halsin assists you with one hand on your arm and an arm around your waist, before he begins to rub large circles on your upper back.

“Easy, little one. Easy. I know it is uncomfortable, but it will pass.” He says, softly. It doesn’t feel like it will – the pain is sharp, a tightness in your chest, a burn in your lungs, heart pounding as you feel more and more breathless with every cough.

Tears burn at your eyes but, true to his word, slowly but surely, it begins to settle, allowing you to catch your breath at last and left feeling exhausted.

The hand leaves your arm then but one remains on your back, keeping you steady, before a waterskin is brought up to your lips. “Take small sips. If you drink too quickly, it might trigger another fit.”

You nod, reaching up a hand to hold over his as he tips the liquid into your mouth. It’s soothing on your raw throat, but only for a brief moment. When he deems you’ve had enough, he pulls the waterskin away, placing it back down to the side of the bedroll before pressing a hand to your forehead, a poorly concealed frown soon gracing his lips.

“You have a fairly high fever.”

“Can’t you…?” You reach out to mimic cure wounds – a spell you’ve seen him and Shadowheart cast many a time - but it seems even your depth perception has abandoned you as you brush up against the wood elf's firm chest, before snatching your hand back and circling your wrist in what you think looks a somewhat magical motion. Halsin lets out a chuckle that makes you feel flush – your temperature varying sporadically by the minute.

“Wounds and other injuries indeed, as can Shadowheart, but I am afraid for such illnesses as this the only treatment is rest for a few days, supplemented by herbal remedies to alleviate symptoms.”

“No,” you shake your head and immediately regret how it makes your vision and head swim. “We must press on - the Absolute are already in the city.”

He looks at you in alarm. “You cannot mean you wish to go and face them? You know I admire your unwavering resolve and strength to do what is right, but at the moment I fear a light breeze would be more than enough to knock you prone.”

“But-”

“No. I cannot allow it.” His tone is firm, a growl at the back of his throat – it reminds you of how he had spoken to Kagha once he’d returned to the grove. "You will rest. Lie down,” he doesn’t even need to push you back this time with a heavy hand, you’ve gone quite limp against the arm that had been supporting you, shrinking back at his tone of voice and nestle back down amongst the furs.

 “Thank you.” Halsin replies, sincerely, the tension dropping both from his shoulders and voice. “I… I apologise for my manner of speaking, but I know of what I speak - you must rest in order to make a full recovery.”

“I’ll try – I promise.”

He looks down at you with a smile before brushing some loose hair from your face and then cupping your cheek with a large palm and calloused fingers. If you’d had more of your wits about you, if you could think clearly, you would’ve noticed the flash of gold in his palm as he cast sleep upon you.

--

You wake up to a hand pressing a damp cold compress against your forehead and your chest feeling tighter than before. You can’t help the wince as you open your eyes, the light smarting despite it being somewhat dim inside the tent. Halsin is sat cross-legged by your side, a frown in place.

“I am sorry to have woken you, but I am afraid your fever has developed.”

“Oh.”

“I have prepared something that will help. Allow me to sit you up.” Somehow, he manages to slip his arm beneath your head and around your shoulders, assisting you upright to lean back against a pile of firm pillows. Once he is satisfied you are settled, he produces a bowl from his side – a waft of steam emitting off the top.

“Here. It has cooled enough to drink.”

“What is it?” Your voice is still awfully hoarse, a raw sting as you talk.

“A staple in every healer’s repertoire - nettle soup. Adept at reducing fevers.”

You take the bowl carefully from his hand, though his follows closely as you guide it up to your mouth lest your grip fail.

You gulp down a mouthful, but it’s absolutely foul upon your tongue, burns your throat as you swallow it down. It feels as if you’ve taken a gulp out of a particularly filthy pond, one thick with algae.

You hold the bowl back out with a shake of your head, hoping he’ll take it. “That’s disgusting.”

Halsin smiles, knowingly – seemingly a complaint he is not all that unfamiliar with hearing. “Whilst I admit the taste is far from what one might call pleasant, it will do you a world of good to drink it.”

You shake your head again, trying to hand it back to him. “I can’t.”

A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest. “Dare I enquire your age again, little one? The children in the grove manage it just fine.”

“I’m not a child,” you pout – too feverish to realise the contradiction of your actions. “And they surely do not.”

“They do…”, he retorts, a wistful smile crosses his lips, “albeit with the promise of something sweet after they’ve rested. Would that suffice?”

“Something… sweet?” Your mind drifts off to somewhere it should not as your eyes drop down to focus on the druid’s mouth.

“Mm. They are quite partial to honeycakes, does that appeal?”

You shake your head, placing the bowl down on the floor between the two of you. Though a fan of sweets, the idea of eating anything at the moment doesn’t entice at all.

“No? Well, perhaps you have something else in mind. I’m sure Baldur’s Gate itself will have something to your tastes.”

“I want a kiss.” You mumble.

He must have misheard. “What was that?”

“A kiss - that’s the sweet thing I want.”

“Ah,” if it wasn’t for the dim light within the tent, you would’ve sworn the druid was blushing. “Now, that’ll be the fever speaking.”

“No.” You gaze up at him, wishing you had the strength to curl your fingers in his hair and pull him in for the kiss you crave. “It’s not. I’ve wanted one since that night at camp, the celebration with the tieflings. I swear I’ll drink all the nettle soup in Faerun for a kiss.” “Since…” He trails off. “No, I couldn’t, little one.” He shakes his head, truly looking apologetic. “I won’t. It wouldn’t be right.”

“Why?”

He cups your cheek in a large palm, a small smile on his lips. “I do not believe you are quite aware of what you are requesting, given your current ailment.”

You purse your lips in thought, trying to seek a compromise. “What about when I’m better, then?”

He removes his hand and nods. “When you are recovered and if you recall this conversation and still desire it, then… yes, you may claim your sweet.” He mumbles towards the end, not quite believing what he was apparently promising. “However, you will still need to drink the nettle soup now.”

“Deal.” You acquiesce, and Halsin picks up the bowl in offering.

It burns as it goes down – all four or five remaining mouthfuls - but you manage the whole bowl.

“Good girl,” the wood elf murmurs with a smile – it makes the discomfort feel worth it for a moment - as he inspects the empty bowl, swapping it out for the waterskin once again.  

“Now, try and sleep some more. By the time you wake, it will have done its work and you’ll be feeling much better.”

You lie back down without protest, closing your eyes. The furs smell like Halsin and you soon drift off back to sleep, a feverish thought of being wrapped up in his arms and the kiss you hoped to claim come morning.

--

Day turns into night and then day once more, the hours passed with numerous bowls of nettle soup that still burn at your throat with every swallow, vegetable broth for more sustenance and countless naps to no improvement. Halsin has been trying to distract himself with whittling, but it is not proving successful – lopping off half of the duck’s beak when you stir momentarily. He’s checked your temperature with the back of his hand too many times to count. There’s a taunting rattle from your lungs between bouts of sharp coughing fits that doesn’t seem to be easing either. The nettle soup should’ve broken your fever at least – he hadn’t encountered one in all his years that it had failed to do so – but you seem to be growing worse by the hour.

He watches as you toss and turn, brushing your hair from your face. You’ve done so much for him – freed him from the goblins, ensured the safety of the Grove and its occupants, defended him whilst he recovered Thaniel, freed a realm from the shadowcurse of beyond a century and yet he cannot return a simple favour by ridding you of a fever?

“Is she sick?”

“Thaniel.” Halsin’s starts at the sudden appearance of the spirit. The boy is knelt besides him, staring down curiously at your slumbering form. “What are you doing here, my friend?”

“Your party hasn’t moved on - I wondered why. Is she sick?”

Thaniel remained as curious as ever, it seemed.

Halsin sighs. “Yes, I am afraid so. The fever and cough proves most stubborn – I fear I am depleting this area’s supply of nettles.”

“Nettles?”

“For the soup – it reduces the fever. Or it should.”

Thaniel frowns, leaning over you and taking a cautious sniff. “But she smells of spolar.”

“Spolar?” The word seems vaguely familiar, though it sparks a sinking, sickening feeling in his stomach.

“It will have been a long time since you’ve had to treat it.” The boy shrugs. “A large purple mushroom, remember? Its spores line the lungs – its growth accelerates if surrounded by nettles.”

“No…” It’s as if a hand is squeezing at his heart. “I don’t recall seeing any on our travels out. It would grow so quickly?”

“Nettles are sturdy enough even for the shadowcurse, so when it was lifted it had probably laid dormant beneath the soil until the time came. How long have you been treating her?”

“Nearly two moons – numerous bowls of nettle soup.” Halsin’s face has drained of all colour. “By Silvanus, I’ll have been nourishing the infection itself.”

“You did not mean to,” Thaniel replied, patting Halsin on his thigh. “Do not fret. Vapours from a wilted Sussur Bloom will clear the lungs when inhaled, suspending any further spread. Then she will just need rest.”

“A wilted…” He gets to his feet, his mind whirring with the next steps. “I must make haste back to the Underdark – I could be there and back by night fall with the aid of sigil circles.”

He hurries out of his tent, finding Gale sat outside of his, camped a stone’s throw away, and a large tome in his lap.

“Halsin,” Gale starts cautiously, setting down his book at the wood elf's urgency. “Is something the matter?”

“Everything.” The druid drops to his knees and empties out his pack – planning to stuff it full of as much Sussur Bloom as he can lay his hands upon. “I made her worse. She’s inhaled the spore of the spolar.”

“The spore of what? And how could you have made her worse?” Gale quirks an eyebrow, trying to keep up. He has never seen the wood elf so flustered. “I don’t understand.”

“Spolar… the spores line the airways. It feeds and thrives upon other vegetation – I’ve been giving her nettle soup. She told me it burnt and I insisted she eat more. And she did, because she trusted me.”

“Oh. Well, you didn’t know-”

“I should’ve known!” Halsin explodes in response, his voice echoing around their encampment. “I need to go to the Underdark, I-” He gets up to his feet and immediately stumbles, catching himself before he could fall. Gale is quick to stand in front of him, hands held up to try in a feeble attempt to stop the wood elf leaving.

“Halsin, when is the last time you rested?”

“It matters not-”

“It very much does.” Gale chides. “Look at you – you are in no fit state to look after yourself, let alone gallivant off to the Underdark.”

“What the hells is going on?” Astarion appears the other side of Gale, drawn out by Halsin’s outburst.  

“I must set this right. I cannot allow her to suffer a moment longer due to my negligence-“

“Okay, I’m sensing there’s a lot more to your feelings here, but allow me to assure you that we all care about her. Allow us to assist you, to aid you in whatever you need in this moment.”

“Will someone please tell me what’s going on?” Astarion almost stomps his foot, never one to be ignored.

Halsin sighs, running a large palm down his face. Gale is right – he is exhausted, unable to enter a state of reverie in the past days in fear of you needing him.

“A Sussur Bloom. I need to retrieve one from the Underdark.”

Gale frowns. “But they don’t work outside the Underdark.“

“Wilted ones, they-"

“Wilted, you say?” Astarion looks at his fingernails for imaginary dirt. “I’ve got a handful in my pack still, I’m sure.”

Halsin sets off running in the direction of the vampire’s tent and his pack, Astarion hot on his heels.

“Now, wait a moment!”

--

Halsin won’t look at you.

You’d woken up, confusingly, back in your own tent two days later to Gale sat by your side and your fever broken. Your voice was still a little hoarse and walking around the camp left you all but winded, but that was meant to pass in another day or two, then the plan was to finally set off towards Baldur’s Gate.

You’d felt bad for holding the party up for so long, but everyone has been rather kind about the delay, doting on you a little more than you’d like.

All but Halsin, really, who stares over your head – not a hard feat given his height, true – but still, it smarts when you cannot catch his eye, especially when it was something you used to achieve so easily. He appears to leave the campsite before dawn and returns for supper, though he moves away from the campfire when you take your place, thanking Gale for the meal before hurrying off.

It’s driving you mad.

Tonight, though, you have a plan. You took supper back to your tent, feigning the need for an early night to your companions and lying in wait for Halsin to depart the camp once more.

You find the elf stood at the very edge of the lake, standing in the shallow waters as it laps to and fro, hands held behind his back.

You approach cautiously, conscious of disturbing a meditation or ritual the ex-archdruid might be partaking in, but it seems he is already acutely aware of your presence.

“There’s a chill in the air tonight.” His voice is firm – you can imagine him using the same tone when he was chairing heated discussions amongst the other druids back at the Emerald Grove. “You should go back to camp and keep warm by the fire at least if you find yourself restless.”

“Halsin,” you choose to ignore him as you wring your hands together and take another step closer. “Have I… offended you in some way?”

“Offended? Never.” Still, he keeps his head turned away from you.

“I apologise sincerely if I said something that upset you whilst I was sick. I’m afraid I don’t recall much of the time in your tent – it’s all a bit of a haze.”

“That’s understandable. You were…” His breath hitches, as if it’s painful to remember. “..quite unwell. But, no, you did not say anything malicious or cruel – it is not in your nature.”

“Then why won’t you look at me?”

His biceps tense as he brings his arms back in front of him, his shoulders heaving up with a breath before dropping back down as he swings round on his heels. He meets your eyes for a second or two before his gaze moves back above your head, as if something was extremely interesting in the distance.

“There.” A forced smile – it doesn’t reach the wood elf’s eyes by a mile. “Now, will you go back to the camp?”

“No.” You huff, taking a step closer.

“Please. Your lungs are not fully recovered yet and the chill tonight will do you no favours.”

“I’m not going back until you look me in the eyes and tell me what I’ve done to be treated this way.” You stand firm, stubborn.

He sighs, seemingly exasperated at the conversation. “You have not done anything, my h… friend.”

“I must have done something.”

“You are mistaken.”

 “No, I’m not.” You retort back, placing your hands on your hips. “Ever since you healed me, you’ve been-”

“Healed you?” He scoffs, derisively, meeting your eyes at last with a furrowed brow. “Healed you? I did no such thing - I made you worse!”

You stare for a moment, bemused. “What? Worse how?”

“You said the nettle soup was burning your throat, you told me multiple times and I dismissed you saying it for not liking the taste, not of a symptom. Every time I had you drink it, I was giving the infection what it needed to thrive. I was killing you.”

“No.” You shake your head. “I don’t remember that.” And you don’t, everything’s hazy – vague memories of cooling compresses on your head, a supportive arm around your waist as you drank from a waterskin. “Why would I keep drinking it if it hurt?”

“Because,” he takes a shuddering breath, “we made a deal.”

“A deal about what?”

“I beg of you not to make me relive my shame.” Halsin sounds defeated, but you continue to push.

“A deal about what?”

“I… I told you of how the children in the Grove took their medicine under the promise they would receive something sweet when they were better. Honeycakes, candied fruits, the like. You…” His voice grows tight. “You asked for something else sweet.”

You feel your face flush, a hazy, whisp of a memory now becoming crystal clear. “A kiss.”

The wood elf’s shoulders shudder. “I took advantage of your trust in me.”

“Advantage?”

“Of your feverish state.”

“I’m the one who suggested the kiss.”

“And I’m the one who agreed due to my own selfish desires, ignoring what my patient was trying to tell me.”

“No, you thought you were doing the right thing. We all make mistakes, or misinterpret. I’m fine.” You wrap your hand around his forearm as best as you can, trying to tug him forward. “Besides the whole tadpole in my head, of course…”

He smiles, wryly, at your poor joke, though you see tears burn at his eyes. “I just… I cannot stand the thought that I have caused you harm, little one – intentional or otherwise.”

“You haven’t, Halsin.” You place your other hand tentatively on his chest and look up, feeling his heart beat beneath your fingertips. “I am well and, if you were still willing, I’m ready for my sweet.”

He shakes his head. “As much as my heart desires it – and it does - I do not deserve it.”

“Am I not allowed to be the judge of that? And I say a deal is a deal.”

“You… truly wish for it still?”

You stand up on your very tip toes and press a kiss to the underside of his jaw, as far as you can reach. “More than ever.”

A firm arm wraps delicately around your waist – cautious of squeezing you too firmly – and heaves you up easily against his firm chest, his other hand cupping your cheek as he captures your lips in a kiss. It is soft and delicate, as if he’s worried you’ll break, but when you lift your hand to tangle in his locks and tug to bring him closer and deepening the kiss, there is no mistaking the growl that emits from his throat when your tongues intertwine.

As soon as you drop your hand from his hair, he retreats too, dropping you back down carefully to the ground, eyes scanning you in concern.

“You’re breathless, my heart.” You feel your cheeks prickle with heat at the term of endearment. “And flush too. Please, I insist you go back and keep warm-"

You cut him off, pressing your fingers against his lips, exhaling breathily. “Two things. One, I’m breathless because of your kiss. Two, I’m flush because of your words - what sort of reaction am I meant to have to you calling me that?”

He lifts his own hand then to hold yours in place so he can kiss the fingertips pressed against his lips, before tugging your hand back down and interlacing your fingers.

“My heart, my love, my sun, my moon, my stars - so many things I wish to call you whilst I lavish you with affection from dusk till dawn, and dawn till dusk… if you’d allow me, that is.”

“Allow?” You smile, “I encourage – heartily.”

It happens too fast to comprehend, a gentle twist of your arm to twirl you in front of him before one arm wraps around the back of your knees and you are swept off your feet, the wood elf commencing large strides back towards the camp.

“Then I insist we return to your tent where you will have as many sweets as you desire.”

“Oh, my tent now, is it?” You tease. “I thought I had to go and stay warm by the fire.”

 “Yes, but, lucky for you,” he smirks, “I am known to run quite hot.”

--

Comments, likes and reblogs make my whole day x

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-fi

[astroboots]

CICI!!! I am obsessed with Miguel's chompers! his teeth!! I just want him to bite me!!!

Oh nonny I knoooooow. They are so pretty! They do something to me. So funnily enough I have this tiny little drabble in my WIPs for the longest time that I didn't quite know what to do with so I thought I'd throw this out here.

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x reader

Word Count: 750

Astroboot’s Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist

"Can I touch them?" you ask.

He raises one thick and perfectly arched eyebrow at you, with not a little judgment in his expression, as if he is looking at a fucking crazy person.

Which, he's probably not entirely wrong about, but it's rude nevertheless.

"You want to touch them?" He repeats, slowly with a deep sardonic drawl. The way you would speak to a not so bright child.

Heat prickles your cheeks. Miguel has this uncanny ability to get under your skin. He should add it to his list of superpowers.

"If it's a no, just say it's a no! There's no need to be an ass about it."

His lips pulls into a smirk, and for a fraction of a moment, you see a glimpse of the sharp edge of his corner tooth before he tucks them behind his lips, out of sight again.

Miguel gestures you forward, spreading his legs from where he's sitting on your couch. The motion has your brain stalling. You can't help but stare, he's wearing oversized sweats and you can still somehow see the definition of his legs shift against the fabric as he moves.

Shit, he definitely caught you in the act. His smile pulls even wider as he pats his hand down on the meat of his thigh. "C'mere nena."

What does he think you are? A dog?

For all your indignance at the gesture, you still go to him, and when you're within reach, his hand comes up to pull and tug you into his lap until you're comfortably perched there.

"You wanna touch, huh?" he teases, amusement dripping from the words as he smiles up at you and bounces you up on his knee.

God, of course he's going to make a big fucking deal of this. You don't know what possessed you to ask in the first place. You can really only answer with the truth:

"I'm just a little bit curious."

It's the understatement of the century. You are more than a little bit curious. You're absolutely fucking fascinated by them. Feel a trill of excitement everytime you catch a small glimpse of them when he's caught by surprise and smiles uninhibitedly at you.

Will stall out any moment during any dinner when he chews on his food and they peek out from his mouth.

Throughout the years, Miguel's gotten very good at hiding them. Conspicuously tucking them behind his lip that most people will never be the wiser. It's why he often mumbles why he speaks because doing both at the same time can be difficult. It's a part of himself that he never show, to the point that even though you've been together for a while now, it's only fairly recently that you've gotten to see them properly.

In front of you, Miguel leans back against the couch.

"Go ahead." He tilts his head up, baring his throat to you as he parts his mouth, and then you see them.

Those two prominent canine teeth of his. Fang-like pointy teeth on either side of the incisors.

Your ears burn. He never shows them to you this brazenly.

Raising your hand closer to his face, you can't help the way they are actually shaking with excitement. Your thumb grazes at the point of his left tooth, and you can feel the sharpness tingle against your pad.

God, you could cut yourself on these.

"You done? Ish a bit uncomfortable."

You hum distractedly, not fully taking in his words, entirely fascinated as you press your thumb with a bit more pressure again the edge.

"Careful, nena," he warns.

Stilling at his words, you pull your thumb from his mouth as you inspect it. It hasn't broken any skin yet.

"Why? Does poison always come out when you bite?"

There's that look on his face, like you just asked him the dumbest question on earth, then he laughs. "No. It'd be difficult to eat if that was the case. Most of the times it's dry bites. I used to bite myself on the lip all the time when I first got them."

"So what would happen if you bit me?"

He blinks up at your question. Smile fading as he considers your question as his eyes roams over your form slowly appraising you from head to toe. Something switches in him, no longer playful a tangible change that you see in the shade of his darkening eyes that shines crimson.

His arm snake around your waist, tightening his hold on you. "Do you want me to bite you, nena? Is that what you're asking?"

You swallow thickly at his words. Staring up at his saphire eyes that seems to glint with glee as he asks you the question.

Your back prickles with excitement just at the thought of it and for that moment you forget all about your hesitation or any shred of pride as you nod back at him.

"Yes," you answer. "Please."

A/N: This is nena from Every You Ever Me universe, do with that piece of information as you will.

[wreckofawriter]

Lucky Charm

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pairing: james potter x reader

summary (request by @delusionalcancer): hello! I was wondering if you could do a James Potter fiction where he has a very important quidditch match and begs you to go but you can’t so he is really sad but midway through he sees you in the crowd and gets super happy? Sorry if requests are closed!

word count: 5k

warnings: weed, language, a tiny bit of angst, james calls you doll, no y/n (i think)

a/n: been really liking writing about quidditch recently lol. This is based on book!james who is a chaser not a seeker. its a bit cheesy but i think its cute

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~

The common room was never quiet after Gryffindor had a quidditch match. Even when you lost -a rare occasion- there would be a crowd of bitter fans, grumbling about an unfair call or an unlucky miss, late into the night. Usually quidditch brought life and excitement to Gryffindor, no matter the outcome. But today as students in red and gold shuffled up the marble staircases and through the portrait hole they were silent, even in large groups there was no more than a hushed nervous whisper among them. The usual complaints that followed a loss had been discarded and forgotten. 

It bothered you. It was uncanny and made you shift uncomfortably in your chair by the fireplace. A glance around told you that you weren't the only one feeling that way, an uneasy air had filled the room. 

The match had been a brutal one, even now the heavy drops pounded against the windows of the tower, the winds shifting and fighting, unable to decide which way to blow. The air was just cold enough to turn what should have been rain to sleet, sharp and cold. Many had been surprised that the match had even taken place, expecting it to be canceled due to such terrible conditions. But the heads of houses refused to back away from a challenge, and the Gryffindor team hardly seemed to mind. 

“Quidditch is played in any weather and every weather.” James had insisted, the morning before the match, “They won’t cancel a match for anything and I don't expect them to.” 

You had stared up at the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall anxiously watching as chunks of hail were blown sideways uneasily, “I don’t think I even wanna go watch.” 

James' face dropped as soon as you said this, “What? No!” he exclaimed, “You have to come watch. You're my lucky charm!” 

And of course when he said that with his lips pulled into his signature boyish pout you couldn’t deny him anything. 

Gryffindor was the favorite to win this year's cup, as they were every year since James joined the house team. It wasn’t all him of course but he had something no one else seemed to possess; raw and unbridled talent. People often joked that he was born to ride a broom, but it was hardly a joke. James’ broom wasn’t something he rode, it was a part of him. It seemed to a spectator that he could hop onto it and tell it what to do with nothing but his mind. He was graceful and precise so casually it seemed as if he were hardly trying at all. Today's game against Slytherin had been a shoe in, an expected win.

Which is why the loss had come with such a heavy silence. You couldn’t deny that Slytherin thought ahead, they too had been expecting the rain and had been a bit smarter about it, casting a series of enchantments and charms onto their players, paying extra attention to their seeker. So while your team fumbled through heavy storm clouds bogged down by drenched robes, the Slytherins had a relatively easy time navigating the skies. With this advantage they had taken the opportunity to humiliate the Gryffindor team as much as possible. 

Their chasers played dirty, purposefully slamming into the Gryffidors and then claiming they simply had not seen them. Their beaters were ruthless as well, using their bats for hitting more than just bludgers, one of them had hit your new third year seeker, Aada Laine, straight between the eyes with their wooden bat, breaking her glasses in two and bloodying her nose.

James, who was so used to winning and doing it easily, took this bitter start to the match poorly. His anger had risen quickly leading to a number of unnecessary fowls that the Slytherin team took with great enthusiasm and by the time Regulus had caught the snitch right from under a near blinded Aada, Slytherin was already up 120 to 40. Perhaps it was just the shame of a horrible game but as James landed he had been angrier than you had ever seen him. His usually unruly hair plastered down across his skull from the rain, one of the lenses of his glasses was cracked and he was gripping his broom so tightly you had been surprised it had not snapped in two. 

His obnoxious parade that usually occurred after a match had not taken place, in fact he had not even glanced at where you, Sirius, and Remus stood waiting for him on the edge of the pitch. Instead he marched across the mucky grass straight towards the seeker.

She was sobbing uncontrollably despite the fact that her nose and glasses had both been fixed by Madame Hooch. A few other teammates stood around the young girl attempting to offer comfort. But when James reached her he did no such thing, in fact he snatched the broom from her hand and yelled so loudly that even over the whipping of the wind and the jeers of Slytherin you had heard him kick her off the team. The rest of the Gryffidors had made to protest angry shouts and bitter words thrown at James but he had simply marched across the field and into the changing room leaving Aada wailing even louder than before.

No one had seen James since, and as you sat quietly in the common room with the other students it began to seem like you were all waiting for him. Waiting for him to show up, all smiles and jokes, and everything would go back to normal. But as hours ticked by and he never showed it became clear this was not going to be the case. 

By dinner time the common room had almost completely cleared out. The die-hard fans retreated to bed while the rest of the house trooped miserably to the Great Hall preparing for the taunts and jeers from the Slytherin table across the hall. 

It was almost dark by the time Remus climbed through the portrait hole looking annoyed, but he grinned when he saw you. 

“No dinner?” You asked him and he shook his head sitting beside you. 

“Been out looking for James.” 

Your eyes widened, “You still haven't found him?” 

“No we did.” He assured you quickly, “He's just acting like a prick so I decided I wanted to come in and dry off.” 

“Makes sense,” you sighed, “he looked furious out there.” 

“Tell me about it.” Remus groaned slumping back, his wet robes soaking onto the couch as he kicked his feet up on the coffee table, “He’s sulking like a child out at the boat house.” 

“Oh, he’s very mature.” You chidded and you both grinned lightly. 

There was a moment of quiet and the fireplace snapped, a portrait yawning. 

“I don't suppose you could go get him?” Remus asked, looking up at you hopefully. 

You sighed expecting this, “What makes you think I could bring him to reason?” 

“You know how he is,” Remus said and he was right. You knew exactly how James was, earnest and genuine and proud. You thought about it for a minute, Remus eyeing you hopefully. Reluctantly you gave in. “Well I best go get him.” 

You mumbled complaints under your breath on your way down towards the lake, the enticing smell and warmth of the great hall taunting you as you passed. 

The trail to the boat house was muddied and steep. By the time you reached the bottom you were shivering and damp, glad for the cover it provided from the wind and rain. James was seated at the edge of one of the docks staring out across the lake. 

You sat next to him and he turned, “Oh.” he said, “I thought you were Sirius.”

You grimace, “Does my hair look that bad?” 

James' usual laugh didn’t follow and instead he cracked a small forced grin. 

You’re both quiet for a moment, the sound of the rain pounding onto the roof and splashing onto the water. 

“Congrats on the game by the way.” You say.

“What?” James looked at you bitterly, “That's not funny.”

You grin, “Yeah but you were, I’d stand out in that shit weather to watch you knock Connaham off his broom again.” 

James paused, “He scored because of that.” 

“Eh, whatever,” you shrug, “Totally worth it.” 

You were expecting a laugh but instead James just shook his head, “You don’t understand.” 

“Well then explain it to me.” You said, rolling your eyes playfully at him. 

“We’ve got absolutely no chance at the cup anymore.” He says fiercely. 

You shrug again, “Since when I thought we were favorites? You just lost one game.”

By the way James looks at you you can tell he's getting frustrated but you don't back off keeping his gaze lock with yours. 

“Ravenclaw hasn’t lost at all, and there's no way we're beating them by 230 points. We’d have to be 80 points up and catch the snitch.” 

“That doesn't mean impossible.” You point out and he glares. 

“You don't understand quidditch.”

“Says who?” you say and he shoots you a look, “Okay so what if I don't understand quidditch, I do understand that you're bloody good at it.” 

Your praise raises a genuine smile out of him for the first time that night. 

“Didn’t know you thought so highly of me.” He said, wiggling his brows. 

“Don't let it go to your head.” 

There's another pause in conversation and you take the opportunity to pull a small joint from the pocket of your robes.

James grins, “Ah so this is the reason you're out in the cold.”

“What? No! I'm here purely to comfort you.” You giggle, lighting it with the flick of your wand. 

He watches you out of the corner of his eye, the way your face lights up from the soft orange glow of burning hash. Your eyes sparkle and your lips pucker as you exhale. He finds it hard to look away but does so quickly when you turn to look at him. 

“Want some?” 

He nods and takes the joint from you grinning, “Thanks doll.” 

You flush at the pet name, something he called you a bit too often. 

The two of you pass it back and forth a couple times silently, watching the cold rain splatter onto the surface of the lake. 

“You should really apologize to Aada though.” You mumble the slight buzz of your high making your voice sound floaty. 

James doesn't say anything for a moment before he folds his arms stubbornly, “I was serious about that. She played like shit.” 

You furrow your brow, “You all did James, that's not fair.” 

Heat rises to his cheeks as shame bubbles in his stomach, “I don’t care if it's not fair. That snitch was four centimeters from her nose when Black caught it. She cost us the game.” 

“Her broken nose.” You fight back, “And it's a team sport, she screwed up yeah, but so did you.” 

Embarrassment flooded James' head in an angry red, “If it weren't for me it would have been a bloody blowout!” He snaps and you're taken aback, “I scored every damn point we had and youre saying I screwed up?” 

You look at him bitterly, “Yeah I am. You let yourself get all pissed off before the game was even up and your team fell apart. You're the captain, take some responsibility.” you scoff. 

James is now glowering, the softness of being high turned sharp and awkward, “You don’t even know what youre talking about.” 

“I may know nothing about quidditch James but I do know that making a little girl cry over a game is a prick move.” You spit. 

“It's not just a game!” He shouted at you so loud you flinched back. 

Your eyes are narrowed as you stand, “That's exactly what it is James, a game. And you let yourself get all worked up over it like a child.” 

He tenses as you speak, he feels as if someone had punched him in the gut when you look at him like that. But his pride takes over in a swoop and anger rises as he stands too, “What are you even doing down here?” He demands, “To smoke fucking weed and ‘comfort me’? You're not my bloody girlfriend!” 

You stop dropping your shoulders, he was right of course, you weren't his girlfriend. As much as everyone always seemed to assume you were, as much as you flirted and touched, sneaking off together into the night beneath his cloak. The two of you had always toed the line of intimacy but you had yet to cross it, something you lay awake thinking about most nights. 

“You're right.” You state firmly, “I don’t know what I’m doing down here.”  And you turn, throwing the roach onto the ground and stomping it out. You're back out into the night grateful, as the weather hides your tears. 

James doesn't follow though he bites his tongue harshly when you leave, wanting to call out, apologize and beg you to stay with him. But he doesn't, just watching you go with balled fists before he yells and swings at the stone wall.

The next morning is awkward when James makes it down to the great hall for breakfast, his hair messier than usual and dark circles under his eyes, the knuckles on his right hand scabbed.

The two of you sit on opposite sides of Sirius who carried the conversation on his back with great effort. 

“Godric, what is up with you two?” He asks finally, “You’re walking around like fuckin’ corpses.” 

“Nothing.” you shrug not meeting his eyes, “Just tired.” 

Sirius eyes you both, and then glances at Remus who is mentally praying for him to shut up. “Sure…”

You excuse yourself to head to Arithmancy and Sirius turns to James immediately, “So you guys finally shagged huh?” 

James sputters and Remus scoffs in disbelief. 

“That's not while you’re all awkward?” He gaped, “What the hell else could it be?” 

James grimaced, “We just… had an argument. “ 

“Don’t tell me it was over Quidditch.” Sirius says and James looks away, “Christ you're an idiot.” 

James just nods in agreement, letting his head rest in his arms. All of the anger he felt towards you had been replaced by regret over his sleepless night and now all he wanted was for you to smile at him, but you wouldn’t even meet his eyes. 

“Well, apologize.” Remus says, beginning to pack up his things, “Seems you have a lot of apologizing to do after yesterday.” 

James stares gloomily at where you had been sitting, “Yeah I know.” 

It's not till lunch when he finally gets you alone, cornering you on your way out of Herbology and back up to the castle. The grounds are wet from yesterday's weather and your shoes are covered in mud. 

“I’m sorry.” Is the first thing that comes out of his mouth, “I didn’t mean to yell at you last night, I was just upset and tired and I… I shouldn’t have done that. I'm really sorry doll.” 

You eye him skeptically, looking for a hint of anything but pure sincerity, but find none. His eyes are glued to you like he's begging you to forgive him and as usual you just can't say no. 

“All’s forgiven James.” You say simply, “Though you're lucky I didn't push you into the lake.” 

Neither of you mention the real reason you stormed back to the castle last night, what he had said about what you were, or more what you weren’t. The topic seemed too heavy for the bright sun that seeps through cracks in the clouds. 

He grins and throws an arm around you, “See this is why you're the best.” 

You raise a brow, “Why ‘cuz I put up with all your bullshit?” 

“No, because you forgive me for all my bullshit.” 

“That's because I know you're an idiot who only means about half of what he says.” You snicker and it feels as if the world has gone back to spinning when he leans into you.

“I'd give myself at least a good three quarters.” He smirks. 

“Of course you would.” 

Remus looks pleased to see you hooked under James’ arm when you enter the common room, “See you two have kissed and made up.” 

You flush.

“I think we're missing half that equation.” James said slyly, leaning in to peck your cheek, “There, all better.” 

“Get off me James,” You huff, heart pounding as you half-heartedly push him away to take a seat on the couch and you know everything is back to normal when he sits beside you and throws his arm back over your shoulder with a pout. 

And things stay normal, well as normal as they usually are. 

The weather begins to warm and the trees begin to sprout new growth, green and pink flowering across the forest whenever you look out the window. A sense of excitement has gathered in the students, even as exams approach the sun gleaming through dusty windows in the castle make everyone feel giddy. 

James has been practicing non-stop now as the final match against Ravenclaw approaches. He's out late, keeping the team out till dark to run drill after drill, play after play. He's even taken to giving private lessons to the new seeker, “Can’t have them falling apart when I leave, doll,'' He explained when you asked, “Plus I need her to be prepared for the match, we’re gonna win that cup again I swear.” 

It was nice to see he was nothing but optimism again, his natural state. But it all crashed to the ground when the date for the match was set. 

Your eyes go wide when he tells you, “The 16th?” 

“Yeah, so you better start making your ‘Go Potter’ banner now.” He says cheekily.

“James..” You pause and feel guilt bubble in your chest, “I have my apparition test on the 16th. It was set ages ago.” 

His face falls, “I thought we all took the test back in January!”

You shake your head, “Wasn’t 17 yet, my mum had to pull some strings so I didn't have to wait till summer.”

“So you can't come?” He’s devastated, his heart sinking into his stomach, he doesn't just want you there, he needs you there; to glance down at in the crowd after he scores, to wink at as he sweeps past, “But youre my lucky charm.” His voice is so soft it hurts.

 “I know James, I’m so sorry, I had no idea.” You look down at your hands unable to handle the disappointment that was written on his face. 

He doesn't say anything, just staring down at the food on his plate. Suddenly his appetite was gone, he didn’t know what to think, how to think. What was even the point of quidditch if you couldn’t be impressed by his amazing dives and dodges?, “Will you at least be there before the match?” he asks.

You shake your head, “I’m leaving Friday after classes. My mum is gonna bring me back on Sunday.” 

And he wanted to cry, it was childish and dramatic but it felt like you were abandoning him before his big moment, his big match, one that he had been working so incredibly hard to win, “Oh.” is all he can muster out and you're both left looking at your laps. 

You apologize again, and try not to let the heaviness in your chest drag you through the floor. You weren’t sure if there was anything worse than disappointing him, you preferred him fiery and fuming.

When James reached the Quidditch pitch for practice that day he seemed to have lost all of his energy, his feet dragging. He kept getting asked if he was okay and he kept saying yes even though it felt like someone had smashed him to bits and put him back together with nothing but scotch tape. 

He played terribly, his usual charisma lost leaving his passes stale. He felt anger rising with every mistake he made, how could he let this happen? How could he let you have so much impact on him? How could one person missing from a stand of hundreds make him not even want to play? It was infuriating how obsessed he had become with you. Sirius and Remus had warned him this would happen, that his little crush would grow into a bulging monster, and they had been right. He simply couldn’t help it, you were stunning. And funny and brilliant and every other positive adjective he could possibly come up with, he would list what he liked about you for years if you asked. It was this reason he just couldn’t bring himself to confess, the only thing worse than having to keep you at arm's length was losing you altogether. And despite his friend's assurance that his feelings were returned he just couldn’t risk it, he couldn’t risk being wrong and not even being able to call you his friend anymore. Because, once again, he needed you. 

So he played it up, with the petnames and the touches, he took what he could trying to make it obvious, to convince you to make the move he so desperately wanted to. But you hadn't, you had just blushed and giggled, turning his heart to mush. 

And now he was sitting in an empty locker room, tears spilling down his cheeks because you couldn’t be at the most important game he had ever played, would ever play. He wiped them away desperately but they just kept coming, making his face feel hot and his head throb. 

The ache didn’t go away over time like he thought it would but grew, weighing him down like a ball and chain. Everyone noticed, his friends, his teammates and worst of all you. 

You kept apologizing, like it was your fault that his match had been scheduled on the one weekend you would be out of the castle. He could tell you felt terrible about it and it only made him feel worse that he wasn’t just bringing down his own performance but your own. If you didn’t pass your exam he was sure it would be his fault for making his own devastation at your departure so obvious. 

The sixteenth approached with building anticipation, the Ravenclaws and Gryffindors that usually got on quite well had begun to shout obscenities at each other at dinner. Team members were taunted constantly in corridors on the way to classes, a duel had even broken out between two beaters, landing them both in the hospital wing for a short spell. But of course ever the strategist, the Ravenclaws had saved their best ammo for last. 

It was Friday night before the match and you had already left giving James a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek ‘for luck’ that had actually improved his mood quite a bit. As if sensing this the Ravenclaw captain had materialized before him on his way back from dinner with a sick grin on his face. 

“Heard not even your girlfriend wants to watch you lose tomorrow Potter.”

James flushed red, “Piss off, Robinson.” 

He just laughed, “I mean after your horrid performance last match I bet you asked her to leave huh?” 

James tried to swallow his fury but he was not doing very well, his fists bunching at his sides. 

“Maybe when I win she’ll realize you're all talk and finally go on that date with me.” he taunts. 

James knows this is very untrue, you had confessed to him many times that you found Robinson nothing short of annoying, claiming he had an even bigger head than himself, but he still felt jealousy rising in his gut. Would you think less of him if he lost again? Would you laugh about it behind his back? Would you give some other guy a kiss on the cheek and wish him luck instead? He wasn’t sure he could bear even the thought. 

He strode past Robinson with a seething glance, “You're gonna be bloody crying by the time the match is over tomorrow.” He hissed and then marched up the stairs to a restless night of dreams involving you kissing some faceless guy in blue quidditch robes. 

James felt sick the next morning, his head was throbbing behind his eyes and no matter how much bacon he tried to force into his mouth he just didn’t feel like eating. It wasn’t until Aada came up to him literally shaking from nerves that he realized he was just gonna have to pretend to be okay. 

He gave his usual pep talk in the locker room, but his eyes were cold and hard instead of the usual glowing excitement that he alluded. The team was tense when they marched out onto the field, the sun was out and the sky was clear. A cold morning breeze swept across the grass as he shook hands with a smirking Robinson and he shivered. 

The whistle blew and it began. 

“Potter with the quaffle!” The commentator began, “Nice dodge there, oh that looked like it hurt! It’s Ravenclaw with it now.” 

James growled rubbing his side where the bludger had hit him and racing after the girl who had snatched his fumble. 

The game pushed on and James was surprised to find that while he was playing mediocre at best, the rest of the team seemed to be making up for it on the tenfold. Aada, who had been instructed to do nothing but annoy the Ravenclaw seeker until Gryffindor was eighty points up was doing a magnificent job, the extra time he had put into training  her showing obviously in her skillful maneuvering and dives. The beaters had yet to miss a hit and twice James had been able to score with only the keeper as an obstacle. 

Despite the fact that they had gone in at a significant disadvantage the Gryffindors were shockingly loud, James didn’t glance much at the crowd, afraid it would make him realize who wasn’t there more than who was, but he could hear them even over the whooshing of wind in his ears. 

They were almost an hour into the game when the snitch was first spotted, but only 50 points up, Aada was unable to go for it and instead took the opportunity to run straight into the Ravenclaw keeper, nearly knocking him off his broom. She played it off beautifully, tears and all, and it cost them only one penalty shot which their keeper saved. James could have hugged them both. 

When the quaffle was tossed after, Robinson had snatched it from James’ grasp and sped towards the hoops. A bludger caught him in the side and the quaffle spiraled from his grip down towards the Gryffindor crowd, James raced after it, his feet sweeping inches from the heads of his classmates when he caught it with a roll. It was then that something caught his eye. 

A flag so large it was being held by four people was spread and waving mere inches from his face, the words, “Go Potter!” sprawled on it in red and gold ink that had been enchanted to send off sparks that crackled and snapped with golden light. 

He looked down and saw you staring up at him, a red hat pulled over your head as you cranned up at him, waving your arms as wildly as you could possibly manage. You were grinning so wide he could see each of your teeth, your cheeks pink and eyes glinting as you cheered up at him. 

When you locked eyes he felt his heart rise from his stomach and pound away in his chest. He wanted to drop into the stands that very moment, take you into his arms and kiss you stupid. But instead he sent you a wink and sped off towards the goals feeling like someone had just gifted him a pair of wings. 

“Potter with the quaffle, bludger coming his way. A beautiful dodge!” The commentator yelled, “And he's looped Robinson as well, look at him go!” 

James had never felt so confident in his life, and he scored with ease again and again, coming to do a victory lap round your flag each time he did. 

“And Potter scores again!” shouted the loudspeakers, “He has been simply unstoppable! Gryffindor leads 160 to 80!” 

The cheers were deafening around you and James once again hoovered above you momentarily, blowing you a kiss that caused your cheeks to light on fire. He was actually doing it, he was winning the match he had told you was impossible and pride swelled in your stomach. It wasn't ten minutes later when Aada caught the snitch and it was official, you had won, both the game and the cup. 

The team hurdled to the ground and swarmed their seeker, but James had started in a run the opposite way, towards the crowd that was now rushing out onto the pitch. 

He shoved past the first few to reach him and beelined for where you were jogging at him, arms spread. 

You collided with such force that if he hadn’t lifted you into the air you were sure you would have toppled over onto the ground. His arms wrapped around your waist spinning you around with a shout, “You came!” 

You nodded, smiling so hard it hurt, you looked down at him, his cheeks flushed, brown eyes glistening in the sunlight and you knew at that moment that it was meant to be. You took both hands and cupped his face pulling it into yours and kissing him feverishly. 

There was a loud chorus of cheers and whoops around you but neither of you heard, too lost in the taste of one another. When you broke away he was grinning even wider, “You passed then?” 

You had forgotten all about your test that morning, but he hadn’t, of course he hadn’t. 

“Yeah, I disappeared as soon as they handed me my license.” You giggled, heart hammering in your chest, “Mum’s gonna kill me for missing dinner.” 

“You’re a bloody treasure doll.” He laughed, and then he drew you into another kiss squeezing you tight around the middle as your hands ran through his hair. “My lucky charm.” 

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~

taglist: : @accio-rogers @roslea @sleepingalaska @the-natureofme @sarcasticallywitty @rosieweasley @dracosgoodgirl @inglourious-imagines @princess-jules47 @daedreams @d22malfoys @evyiione

m.list

[onlyhereforthestories]

Comeback Queen - Part 2 (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

What a comeback she has had! I hope everyone enjoyed the game today, I know I certainly did. Here is the second part of the fic for our fave no 11.

You had managed to get ready on time, Alexia however was still in the bathroom, but this wasn’t uncommon. You were always the first ready out the two of you, you weren’t really a make-up person and normally opted for an easy put-up hair style so it just meant you had less to do to get ready.

You decided to put a little bit of tinted lip balm on, so you were just in the mirror applying that when Ale came out of the bathroom in a pair of trousers that hugged her waist just right, a white shirt with the top couple buttons undone which you knew was for you and a blazer hung over her arm.

You stopped what you were doing mid lip, you just stared at the woman through the mirror in awe. She never failed to take your breath away with any of the outfits she wore, comfy or formal. she glanced at you as she was putting her earrings in and noticed your stare through the mirror. “Like what you see mi amor?” The smirk on her face was also audible in her voice.

“You know I more than like babe. I swear you got hotter though, did you change your gym poutine? Get more muscle?” Your eyes roamed the Spanish star as you said this, the smirk on her face dropped a little and her cheeks flushed. Your ogling was obviously more than just appreciating, and Alexia knew what was running round your mind as much as you were imagining it.

“Okay amor wherever this libido came from save it for later.” Your cheeks burned red immediately and you averted your eyes away from your wife in favour of busing yourself sorting your bag you would be taking. Alexia chuckled at your reaction, it had been a recurring theme recently you and your increase want for sex. Not that Alexia was complaining at all, shed happily worship you every minute if she could but it was different for you.

She made her way over to you and wrapped her arms around you from behind, her large hands coming up to cover your stomach something that spread warmth through you. You leant into the contact and relished in the feeling being in her arms brought you, the moment was short lived as Alexia’s phone blared from where it was on charge next to your bed. Mapi’s face on the screen staring back at you. Alexia groaned a little in your ear before pressing a kiss to your cheek and letting you go to answer her best friends call.

Whilst she spoke in rushed Spanish you left the room to get your shoes and coat on, you knew that call meant the couple was ready to go and if Mapi was calling they really were ready to go.

The journey to pick them up was uneventful and before you knew it the four of you were walking into the function room hired out for the team dinner today. The girls cheered as Alexia walked into the room, chants of her name rang round, and you could see the joy this brought the Spaniard. She really did love this team and you could tell they loved her.

The night was amazing, you all ate great food and celebrated the return of your favourite person to the sport that she loves so very much. As the evening went on and everyone was sat chatting after the food you could feel yourself getting tired, you were trying to hide yawns behind your hand and shifting every so often as you kept getting uncomfortable.

Your hiding hadn’t gone as well as you thought, you were talking to Ingrid who was sat next to you and shifted once again. Only this time as you shifted you felt the palm of your love on your thigh, you turned to look at her and found her giving you a concerned look. “You okay bebe?”

You gentle grabbed her hand off your thigh and laced your fingers with hers, giving her hand a squeeze before you replied. “Si, don’t worry just a little uncomfortable sat in once place for a long period it’s okay though.” The woman gave you a small frown and went to stand up but before she could you gave her a tug on the hand you were still holding.

“We can go home bebe, I don’t want you to be too uncomfortable.” You were flattered by the gesture, but you knew that it wasn’t what you actually wanted. Although you were tired and a little uncomfortable you would happily be that to chat with your friends and celebrate your girl.

“Thank you, my love, but I’m okay promise. The food is finished we won’t be here a great deal longer I’ll be okay until then.” You could tell by the look she was giving you that she was making sure, so you squeezed the hand in your three times and that was enough for the woman to smile back at you knowing you meant it.

Just before she could turn back to her conversation with Irene you caught her attention once more, “But as I am making this big sacrifice to celebrate you, you can give me a foot rub when we get home.” You sent her a wink to accompany your words, both to show you were joking mostly but also wouldn’t mind it happening.

“Oh, bebe I think I can stretch to a little more than a foot rub.” Your cheeks flushed a little as you laughed at where the woman’s mind went. With a light shove to her shoulder and a kiss to her lips you let her go back to her conversation. You didn’t miss the way her eyes roamed your upper body before she turned away, you would never get used the too butterflies she brought to your stomach each and every time she looked at you like that.

This morning had been a struggle to get going, Alexia had definitely followed up on what she said at dinner which meant that you were fairly tired this morning. Luckily for you, you were still part of the injury list, so you had less work to do than your wife. Not that Alexia was fussed she wasn’t as physically tired, and it was only a recovery day after yesterday’s game anyway.

You had just finished breakfast in the canteen and were heading to the film room with the rest of the team to go over some of the plays for the game the day before when you were it with a wave of sickness. You were quick to excuse yourself from your chat with Lucy and Kiera and made a beeline for the toilets. You got there just intime to bring up the breakfast you had just eaten.

Your stomach settled right away after that, and you were quick to rinse your mouth and wash your hands before rushing to get to the film room intime and without suspicion. As you sat down in your seat next to Ale, she gave you a puzzled look which you brushed off with a smile and a squeeze to her thigh.

You sat and listened as the coaching stuff went over a few things and pointed out a few parts of the game they wanted to work on over the next few training sessions. Just before you finished, they showed Ales goal again just to get the cheer from the girls and the slight dip of embarrassment from the goal scorer.

Recovery day started with a light gym session which meant that the injured players and fit players would be together, everyone with their own things to do for the session. You were currently working with Mapi who has been stepping up her training over the last couple weeks.

You on the other hand have been staying at a fairly low level, something that hadn’t slipped past Mapi. “So amiga when are you getting back to the proper work?” You looked a little confused towards the dyed blonde who was currently in between sets.

“I’m just doing what I’m told.” Your answer was brief and vague causing the woman to frow a little, but she let it go thinking maybe you were upset that you could not progress further.

Mapi wasn’t the only one to ask you about your recovery, Aitana had too when you went to get some water and she was by the bottle too, even Irene had asked about your return date. You kept you answers as short as possible, but you knew someone soon was going to really ask what your injury was.

You were trying to get to speak to Alexia alone quickly before everyone headed out onto the pitch, but you just couldn’t catch her eye or get away from the players with you. You knew it wasn’t going to be long before you would have to tell everyone, but you needed to talk to the brunette first, make sure she is okay with telling people.

You finally caught the woman’s eye when you were all stood in a circle around Jona listening to his pretraining talk. Alexia came and stood next to you as he started speaking her hand resting on the small of your back. You were listening to what Jona said until Alexia spoke quietly in your ear.

“You okay amor? The girls have been questioning you a lot I hear.” You nodded slightly before you spoke.

“I think we need to tell them; it won’t be long until they will see anyway.” Alexias’s hand slid round to your hip to pull you into her a little more.

“Si I agree, time to tell them.” This ended the conversation, and you tuned back into the team talk just before it was concluded, and the players full training went off for warmups. You followed Mapi over the sidelines where you would be doing some light work.

After the warm-ups and the first set of drills you joined back up with the rest of the girls for a drinks break. You slotted in next to Ale and joined in the conversation there. They were obviously talking about your wife and Frido’s return to the pitch and when you were noticed Aitana directed her talk to you.

“Next up is your big return y/n.” You glanced at Ale who stepped closer to you and nodded.

Taking this as your go ahead you spoke, “You’ll have to wait for at least a year for that.” The girls around you looked at you in shock.

“What why? You didn’t do your knee; in fact we have no idea what injury you picked up.” Patri was the one to speak up first, you let her speak and looked around at the girls in your little circle right now. You saw the moment Keira understood what it meant, what you meant.

The grin on her face grew the moment you nodded. She was on you in a second, giving you a big hug and whispering congratulations in your ear. When the other girls continued to look confused you saw your wife roll her eyes.

“You are all idiotas, y/ns pregnant. We are having a baby.” It was safe to say everyone was shocked for a moment before you were in the middle of a Barca team hug, congratulations being shouted out.

“I’m going to be the favourite aunt!” You laughed at Ingrids shout which immediately brought on bickering throughout the group.

You stood in the arms of the woman you loved, watching as your football family argued about who was going be your baby’s favourite. You truly were the luckiest woman alive, and you knew your baby would be so loved.

“We did good aye.” You smiled up at Alexia as she spoke.

“We did really good, Te amo.” Alexia leaned down to press her lips to yours and brought her hands to cover your stomach.

“I love you both.”

[httplilyyy]

𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐅𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 || 𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐀 𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐅

pairing: lena oberdorf x reader

summary: you're best friends so what's wrong with one little cuddle?

warnings: nothing but fluff

word count: 1.3k

a/n: i haven’t written for the woso world in a while and due to the wwc going on i thought it was only fair to write a couple fics. send in ideas and prompts for people you want me to write for and i’ll see if my brain can work something out :)

woso masterlist request

You've known Lena for what seemed like forever. From the moment the two of you met you couldn't be kept away from each other. Now three years on, the two of you were as thick as thieves.

Only up until recently, you had been thinking of Lena in a different way. Going from longing gazes to discrete touches. You knew you were falling for the girl but you just couldn't stop yourself.

You knew you couldn't do anything with these feelings so you kept them buried deep down. Not telling anyone. Not a single soul.

Due to hiding your feelings you had been different around Lena, and you were sure she could sense it. As much as it pained you, you tried to put a little distance between you both but you were just not able to keep her from running around in your mind.

You were currently sitting on your sofa at home, scrolling through instagram when you noticed that Lena had posted. Clicking on her account you could’ve sworn you had heart palpitations.

Immediately liking her new photo, your heart nearly jumped out of your chest once you saw a message pop up at the top of your screen.

[ lena: 6:56pm ] eager much?

[ you: 6:56pm ] i’m sorry?

[ lena: 6:56pm ] check when i posted

Opening instagram back up, you saw how long ago she posted. And it wasn't long at all. 1 minute ago. Shit.

[ you: 6:57pm ] what? I can’t like a photo of my best friend?

Playing it cool and definitely not acknowledging the way your chest pained after typing the reply.

[ lena: 6:57pm ] oh no, you can. just seemed a bit quick, no?

[ you: 6:57pm ] i refreshed the app and you popped up

[ lena: 6:57pm ] mhm sureeeee

[ you: 6:58pm ] i hate you

[ lena: 5:58pm ] no you don’t

[ you: 5:58pm ] i’m pretty sure i do

[ lena: 5:58pm ] so if i invited you over for pizza and a movie you wouldn't come?

[ you: 5:59pm ] i hate you

[ lena: 5:59pm ] i’ll see you in a bit

You huffed out a laugh, getting up from the sofa with a sinking feeling in your stomach. You couldn't help but wonder what it’d be like if you actually told her how you felt. Shaking your head, you got rid of that idea.

Grabbing your keys from your kitchen counter, you put your shoes on and made your way over to Lena’s. It wasn’t a long drive and before you knew it you were standing outside her front door, waiting for her to let you in.

“The stalker’s here.” Lena grinned as she opened the door.

“Ha ha, very funny.” You deadpanned, walking past her and into the living room where there was pizza laid out on the coffee table.

“Wow, I don't even get a ‘hi’ and you’re already digging into the pizza.” Lena scoffed, sitting beside you on the sofa.

“I only came for free food and a movie.” You said with a grin, discreetly trying to put space between the two of you.

“Whatever.” Lena said, rolling her eyes as she tried to fight off a smile that made its way onto her face.

“What movie are we watching?” You asked, taking another slice of pizza.

“Ten things I hate about you.”

“Really?”

“What? I like a good romcom.” Lena shrugged, taking a slice of her own and pressing play on the movie.

As the movie went on, your concentration became less and less. Your brain solely focused on the person beside you. No matter how much space you put between her, you still felt yourself being drawn back to her. Like an unexplainable force pushing you together.

Shifting in your spot, you tried to get comfortable but it was no use. Every position seemed to be more uncomfortable than the last and unbeknownst to you, Lena seemed to be having the same problem.

From all your shifting around, the two of you were now sitting next to each other. Shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh. Lena rested her head on your shoulder, still trying to find a comfortable position.

Accidentally, Lena let out a small grumble, becoming fed up with being uncomfortable.

“You okay?” You chuckle, looking down at Lena.

“No.” She huffed, moving off your shoulder.

“What’s up?”

“I can’t get comfy.”

“Neither.” You agreed, a small tight-lipped smile making its way onto your face.

“Lay back.” Lena said, placing her hands on your waist, pushing you to lay on your back.

“Wha- um, okay.” You said, heart pounding as you let Lena guide you back.

You got yourself in a position so your head was rested on a pillow, being slightly propped up by the arm of the sofa so you could fully lay down.

Once you had stopped moving, Lena crawled on top of you, laying her body across yours.

“Is this okay?” Lena questioned as she let out a content sigh against your neck, her breath sending goosebumps to spread like a wildfire over your skin.

“Huh- I- what?” You blushed, eyes wide as you scolded yourself for not being able to form a complete sentence.

“Do you want me to get off?” Lena asked, placing her hands on the arm of the sofa, either side of your head, so she could look at your face properly.

“No! I uh-” You coughed and let out a nervous laugh. “I don’t think so?”

“You don’t think so?” Lena repeated with a teasing tone.

“I don’t want you to get off.”

“Okay.” Lena smiled and moved back to the position she was in originally.

By now the movie was long forgotten and you couldn't help the way your heart sped up at how Lena was on top of you.

Not knowing what to do without malfunctioning, you kept your arms up in the air, deciding that was the better option.

“You can touch me, y’know. I’m not fragile.” Lena said softly, reaching her arm out to grab yours, placing it around her waist.

“Mhm, yeah. I know that.” You said, placing your other arm on her back, slowly drawing intricate patterns.

The two of you didn't say anything for the rest of the movie, the both of you enjoying the tranquillity of the moment. As the credits played, you had failed to notice that Lena had drifted off to sleep.

You had tried to slide out from underneath her but it was no use. Shifting in her sleep, Lena mumbled a few incoherent words and you knew that you had fallen so hard, you don’t think anyone would be able to save you.

Letting yourself drift off into a deep sleep, the only thing grounding you was the person on top of you.

Many hours passed and it was now the early hours of the morning, the sun peaking through the blinds caused Lena to wake up from her sleep.

Some time during the night, the two of you had shifted so she was trapped between you and the cushions of the sofa.

Lena froze, noticing the position she was currently in and letting a blush take over her features. Her leg was draped over yours, tangled together and her hand had made its way up your top, resting on your stomach.

Snapping herself out of her thoughts, Lena quickly removed her hand from under your top, suddenly feeling her fingertips grow cold.

Shifting in your sleep, you wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her just a tad closer and resting your head in her neck.

“You’re staring.” You mumbled, eyes still closed as you let a small smile take over your face.

“I’m not.” Lena protested, weakly trying to get out of your hold.

“You’re lucky I like you.” You smiled, moving your head back to the pillow and tightening your grip on her.

Lena laid quietly for a while, assuming you had drifted back off to sleep before she spoke up again.

“I like you too.” She whispered, brushing a strand of hair that fell over your face.

“I knew it.” You smirked, pulling her closer into you. “Now go back to sleep.”

Lena let out a small chuckle, pressing her lips to your cheek before cuddling herself into you and drifting back off into sleep.

[jifanjiang0710]

Closed Doors

yan secretary! zhongli x ceo! reader

Lantern Rite was fast approaching. From the glass windows that extended from the ledge at the bottom to the expanse of the ceiling, you could see that every corner and alley was alight with crimson silk and flowers, couplets and ribbons, lights flashing incessantly even in the mind’s eye. Your own office building had some, sporting of the festivities despite the heavy workload the staff have been burdened with recently.

A hand on your shoulder, a whisper of your name, by your ear.

“You have worked hard. Would you care to chat over dinner?”

“...I’m busy, tonight.”

Zhongli pulled back, gently, as if he had taken the rejection well. When has he ever, in this one-sided… situationship… thing?

“Then let me drive you home.”

“No, I’m fine.” You feel like throwing up, even though you had not eaten in many hours. The last time that occured…

No words. He is displeased, and it strikes a hot bolt of guilt through your veins. He did only mean the best for you, your trusted secretary.

“I mean, I wouldn’t want to trouble you.”

“I can assure you, my dear, it is no hassle at all. Do you not trust me to keep you safe, after all these years?”

You sigh. He speaks much like a doting grandfather. Your eyes trail to the two long red strips on the office door.

“ ‘Longevity like the highest West mountains, blossoming relationships akin to the depth of the Eastern sea.’ Isn’t the second part a bit out of place, Zhongli?”

The man in question leaned in, lowering his glasses and scrutinising the words on the couplet. “So it is.”

“Nothing more to say?” That was uncharacteristic of your secretary.

Zhongli coughed, as if to distract that. “I find the emphasis on interpersonal relations between persons agreeable. Is that not something you wish to have in your life, [Name]?”

“I… suppose?”

You knew he wrote it, and dare not remove it from the front doors of the company. You had to settle with unmatching couplets for the next month.

“Speaking of which, [Name]...” he said, tailing behind you at such a leisurely pace that you always had to stop several times for him to catch up. “The, ah, schedule for the company celebration on the second day of Lantern Rite has been updated. I have assigned your seating arrangement near-”

“Oh, right. I forgot to tell you. I won’t be around next month. I’m going back with my family to celebrate.”

…

“Zhongli?”

Why is he…disappointed? It is perfectly fine and common, for the overworked CEO to take time off to visit their loved ones for the holidays. Zhongli still feels an ache in his rustic heart as you said that.

You wouldn’t be spending Lantern Rite with him.

Last year, and the year before that, and the year before as well, you had; too busy slaving for the survival and growth of the company to take the journey home. He doesn’t know what to do with the chip at his feelings knowing you will not be around this year, even if it only consists of the two of you working late nights at the office, and him replacing your lukewarm cup of tea from time to time. By the time he replies you have arrived at your private office.

“... I see.”

After all he’s done for you, as well. Do you view him as nothing but a subordinate? 

Zhongli chided himself, shelving these thoughts for later. His younger self would succumb to petty, childish musings like these, and he would imagine he has matured.

He sees you falter, perhaps noticing the shift in mood. “Are you going anywhere for Lantern Rite?” you asked.

He smiles, not too broadly, making sure to keep his eyes still.

“Where has an old man like me to go, except for work?”

To the untrained eye, you seem unphased, but your secretary knows better. With a little observance, he can detect your uncomfortable twitches, fidgeting, wandering eyes. And, contrary to public belief, Zhongli can be very observant. How do you think he picks out the gem amongst stones? To him, you are that very diamond he so desires.

“Please, you are hardly half the age you act. You could… take a trip somewhere south, escape the cold…”

How intriguing. Before you can blink he towered over you, arm brushing against your shoulder. Zhongli looked you directly in the eyes, without a hint of warmth or the usual wise whimsy he conducts himself with.

“A most interesting suggestion. However I do not intend to go holidaying off by myself.”

You had no response to that, still recovering from the apparent change in attitude of your secretary.

“Not to mention, I would… how do I phrase this… find myself missing you terribly.”

For a moment, you think you see the amber in his eyes morph into a disgusting, bloody red. It could easily be passed off as reflection from the hanging lanterns.

He continues, when you don’t speak. “So, when you return to your, ah, loved ones, partake in the wonders of tradition and communal gathering… please think of me as well.”

A sweet statement turned sinister. Was this how he had gotten you to stay for the past year, and all the Lantern Rite’s before that?

Come to think of it, you don’t know why you were so busy back then either.

“After all, [Name]...”

He would do anything to keep you here, under his watchful eye and within his clutches.

“What is a poor old man to do, without you?”

He tried to play it off as a joke, a light-hearted statement made meant for mild amusement. You seemed to take it well, offering a hesitant chuckle. If you find this off-putting, he would hate for you to discover what he did to earn his position as your secretary. When he was young it would have been much more… how to put it? Physically forceful. 

The bloodlust from them has since faded. How would you feel seeing him slathered in crimson? Cringe in fear and revulsion, or praise him for his devotion?

He finds violence by his own hands unnecessary, now. He can do just as much and more with the influence he currently wields.

The manager who tried to seduce you, the owner of a rival company’s snark comments, all the scathing words of Internet users who think it so clever to be cruel to you behind a screen… one way or another, he has taken care of them as a good secretary would.

All that has paid off. Now he is your most trusted staff, the one who understood every quirk and minute action. No one had been through every high and low, seen you inside and out like he has.

He caresses you so gently, as if you were the most delicate petal or the most fragile diamond. As if all this was right and normal, for a secretary to do.

Who would suspect Zhongli the gentleman, collected, distinguished and composed of such depravity?

“Good morning, dear. Happy Lantern Rite.”

You trusted him, wholeheartedly.

But when you eventually wake up in his arms, in his bed, to the sound of firecrackers and joyful festive cheers, even after he promised the last time that it was a one-time mistake and would not happen again, you’re not quite sure you do, anymore.

[nubisaureus]

getting up in the middle of the night

how they react when you wake up in the middle of the night because you forgot to take your make-up off

character(s): Kuroo, Akaashi (both timeskip)

pairing(s): fem!reader x mentioned Haikyuu characters

contents: established relationship, acts of service, domestic fluff, living together

a/n: can you tell im starting to simp for Kuroo? ffs i published a 4,3k Kuroo smut one shot on ao3, this man has got me on a chokehold recently. Not proofread!

Enjoy! <3

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Kuroo

The night had been rowdy. You two had been guests on a wedding, which had been very fun: giving that it had been on a work day, you two were pooped, so you had both collapsed into bed in your formal clothes.

It was around 2 AM when that had happened, but after a few hours you got woken up by an unpleasant sensation, which felt a lot like your face falling off because of your make-up.

You noticed you were still wearing your wedding attire, and sighed.

Kuroo was peacefully sleeping next to you, shifting uncomfortably in his suit: it looked like his tie was rather uncomfortable, so you pondered whether to turn him around and undo it. It would probably wake him up, and you didn't want to do such a thing, giving he had work tomorrow and you didn't.

Fortunately though, Kuroo did most of the work himself: he instinctively searched for your body in his sleep, pulling you in his embrace. You were now facing him, so you decided to remove his tie: you sneaked your hands on his neck, doing your best to undo the knot in the darkness of your bedroom.

A low hum startled you.

«What are you doing, little one?» he asked, his voice still raspy from the sleep.

«Undoing your tie, Tetsu.»

«Huh?» you ignored him, finally managing to undo his tie, and unbuttoned his shirt a bit, letting him breathe.

«Oh, it feels nice..» he had no idea what he was saying, you reckoned: his voice was that of a half-asleep man.

«Now I need to do something, Tetsu. I'll be right back.»

He whined, hugging you closer and rubbing his face in the crook of your neck.

«Where do you wanna go at this time at night???» he sounded like a kid, making you smile.

«Taking my make-up off and putting my pajamas on, that's all. I'll be back in five minutes.» he inhaled your scent, laying a gentle kiss on your neck.

«Promise?» if you could see in the dark, you'd see he was making puppy eyes.

«Promise.» he released you, and you went about your business, finally washing all the make-up off and putting on your comfy pajamas.

When you came back, you found Kuroo naked except for his boxers.

He peeled the sheets off, inviting you in.

«It wouldn't be nice of me to cuddle you in those dirty outside clothes now would it? Thought my skin would be a lot better.» his mischievous smile glimmered in the dim light of the bedside lamp, and you smiled, jumping in bed beside him.

He cradled you in his arms, making you rest your head on his muscular chest, and you kissed it, as he kissed your head.

«Goodnight, love.»

──────────────────────────────

Akaashi

Akaashi came home late that night, finding you sound asleep in your bed. He knew you had a celebration with your volleyball team, and since it was after practice, he wasn't surprised he found you still in your make-up, your outfit all over the place.

He sighed. «Oh, y/n, you should take better care of yourself.»

As he saw your phone near your head, the picture was clear in his head: you had laid down on the bed, waiting for him to come home, but had fallen asleep in the meantime, too tired to stay up.

He smiled tenderly, setting down the folder with the new manga drawings he'd been revising with Tenma, deciding he wouldn't let you go to sleep like that.

He took the phone away from you, putting it to charge on the bedside table, turned on the bedside lamp, and then decided to focus on you.

He turned you around and unclasped your jeans, carefully sliding them off your legs, trying his best not to wake you up.

As he did though, you started moving around.

«Mh..» you moaned in your sleep, trying to assume your previous position, the result being tangling yourself in the jeans, while a resigned Akaashi decided to wake you up.

«Y/n.» he gently called, slowly rocking you back and forth to wake you in the least traumatizing way possible.

«Huh?» you opened one eye, only to see your face reflected in your boyfriend's glasses.

«Keiji..» you mumbled, trying to reach him, only to wobble because of the jeans.

«What the..?» he sighed, instructing you to lay on your back, and when you did, you felt the weird sensation in your legs disappear.

«What are you doing..?» sleep was still tugging at your eyelids, but you did your best to stay awake.

«You fell asleep in your clothes, love. I'm just taking them off.» he said, but you couldn't quite understand, too sleepy.

«Wait, clothes off? Do you want to..?» your sleepy comment made him giggle.

He kissed your forehead, making you sit up.

«No, love. I'm just making sure you don't go to sleep in your clothes.»

You nodded, humming something he couldn't quite hear.

«Arms up.» you obeyed, and the chilly air of the night caressed your skin, and soon enough you were warm again, enveloped in his scent.

Then the room went silent.

«Keiji..?» you murmured, patting on the bed to look for him.

You heard footsteps.

«I'm here. Hang on.» you felt something fresh and damp being rubbed on your face, and from the scent you could tell it was a make-up wipe.

«A make-up wipe..?»

«Yes. I definitely can't wash your face, but it's better than nothing.»

«Thank you, Keiji.» you said, curling on the bed to snuggle your pillow.

«I'll get to bed soon, okay?» you nodded, smiling in your sleep, which made Keiji smile too.

He got in his pajamas and soon enough was in bed beside you.

As soon as you felt his presence you instinctively snuggled against him, murmuring something in your sleep.

He kissed your shoulder, wishing you goodnight.

a/n: ok but like im melting at my own writing why cant i get a man like akaashi in my life plssssssssss

[kennedy-brooke]

Dress

George Daniel x (Fem) Reader

Summary: You’ve been best friends with George Daniel for as long as you can remember, but your relationship has always suggested something more. The pining and waiting quickly becomes too much to handle, and you finally decide that something has to be done. A night out with your friends is the perfect excuse for you to wear the dress you bought, with the only intention of having him take it off.

heavily based on the song dress by taylor swift

Word Count: 9.9k

Part 2

a/n: hello lovely people. after many setbacks, my George Daniel fic is FINALLY here! shoutout to @imagine-that-100 and @alovesreading for making me finish it and helping me when i got stuck (i would have given up without the peer pressure support). There is a serious lack of George Daniel fiction, so here is my shot at fixing this problem. I got extremely carried away, and though it was originally meant to be a oneshot, THERE IS A PART 2!! so no worries, the good stuff is on the way and will be here @ 12 est on monday, august 21st ;)

You had been friends with George Daniel for ages, long before the band had gotten big. The pair of you had been through all of it together.

You had been there while his hair was flowing and damaged, and you had cried when he decided to buzz it off - while he simply held you and laughed at your reaction.

Just as he had been there for your mid-life crisis, when you decided bleaching your hair was the only way to get through it, and he looked right at you and lied to your face saying that it looked good.

You’ve always been the closest of friends - and fame has done little to change that fact - but when it comes to your dynamic duo, there has always been an undercurrent of something more.

While you’re just as close with the other boys, your relationship with George has always been different. Friends don't banter quite like the two of you. They don’t openly flirt like you do. They don’t share longing looks with one another, or take any opportunity to make physical contact with each other the way you two do. It wasn’t normal. You knew it, he knew it, hell, everyone knew it - they watched as the pair of you danced around the connection, the overwhelming and obvious chemistry, waiting to see who would finally make the first move.

You would balance precariously along the tightrope marking the barrier between friends and something else, something more, slowly tilting towards free falling into the unknown, before hastily shifting weight and falling back to the safety net of friendship. It was painful to watch - the boys individually giving the pair of you shit for the obvious harbored feelings - but it was never as painful as it was to experience.

Being as close as you were, you watched as George brought home girl after girl, trying your best to be the supportive friend you were while simultaneously trying to keep your own emotions in check. Nodding as he went on to Matty about his latest shag, telling Ross you were fine as he looked at you with concern written across his face.

It wasn’t as if the two of you were together. Why wouldn’t you be fine?

George sat back and watched as guys came up to buy you drinks at the bar that you’d happened to stop at. He scoffed and looked away as you threw your head back laughing at something the new guy said - it couldn’t be that funny - and Matty shot him a knowing look that screamed go do something about it.

He never did, though. He watched and watched, and when he had finally had enough, he found a distraction in someone else.

The game went on for years. An uncomfortable, tension-filled game that was by no means enjoyable for any party involved; but recently, there was something that had shifted.

Just before the boys left for “At Their Very Best,” you and George continued to be practically inseparable, but it wasn’t in the same way you had been before. Where your secret moments in a crowded room had been subtle and the touches fleeting (or so you both thought), they were now blatantly obvious.

You sat pressed against him, his arm around your shoulders holding you close. He stood behind you, arms around your waist, gazing at you while you rambled to Matty about some book you had just read. You leaned against the doorway to the studio, looking on as George messed with the tracks, unknowing to your watching eyes. You played with the rings on his fingers while he chatted with the boys, not letting go even after you finished fiddling with the metal. He placed his hand on your thigh, too high to be a friendly gesture, as he drove you to Matty’s place to meet up with the rest of the band.

The tension had continued to build, leading up to the party being thrown in celebration of the release of “Being Funny In a Foreign Language”. The night hadn’t gone to plan for either of you - rather it was thrown off course by a simple interruption and only proceeded to go downhill from there.

Everyone had been having a lovely time, really. Shots had been taken, more drinks had been poured, and you had found yourself on the settee watching as Matty approached.

“Where’s your loverboy?” Smirking, Matty sat himself next to you and threw his arm over your shoulder.

“Hello to you too, Ratty.” Rolling your eyes, you offered nothing in response to his antics, watching as he threw his hand over his chest in mock offense. “He’s in the kitchen, I think, and he’s not my ‘loverboy’, Matty. We’ve been over this.”

He gave you a knowing look. “Ah, but you knew exactly who I was talking about, didn’t you?”

You brought your glass of wine to your mouth, swallowing down the last of it and leveled him with a glare. “I need another drink.”

“Y/n, come on now! Don’t be like that - I was only messing.” He shook your shoulder a bit before drawing you into his side for a hug. “I was just wondering where our Georgie had disappeared to and figured you would have the answer, seeing as I haven’t seen the two of you apart for weeks.”

Sighing, you pouted and let yourself relax into Matty’s side hug. You knew he was right, if anyone was to know where George had gone off to, it would be you - and to be fair, you did know where he was - but you also knew that Matty’s comment wasn’t as innocent as he made it seem.

He was prying. They all had been, and it didn’t help that you had made the drunken mistake to confide in Matty one night a few months back.

He knew how you felt. How in denial you were about having feelings for your best friend. How you were too scared to do anything about it because you didn’t want to ruin your friendship. He knew you thought it was ridiculous and cliched, and he knew that you hated it - but he also knew that those feelings weren’t going away and that the recent clinginess between the both of you was only making those feelings more intense - whether you wanted to admit it or not.

“How’s all of that going, by the way?” Matty prodded, feeling a need to break the silence since you had yet to respond.

You rolled your eyes again, “I’m not sure what you mean, Matty, seeing as there isn’t anything going anywhere.”

“You know exactly what I mean, y/n/n. Neither of you are exactly subtle.” At that you cut your eyes at him, to which Matty just chuckled. “I’m not wrong, and you know it.”

“Well, nothing has happened and it’s probably not going to, so maybe you are.” You huffed and sank lower into your seat, staring at your wine glass as if it would refill itself if you looked at it long enough.

“I highly doubt that. I know George and he wouldn’t just be acting like that for the fun of it. And I know how you feel - you’ve told me as much yourself. What I still don’t understand is why neither of you have done anything about it, it’s simple enough.”

You look over at Matty exasperated, “Matty, I love you, but he’s my best friend and it’s really not that simple. You don’t know the half of it and I wish you’d all just leave it be.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that, I just meant-”

“I know, Matty, and I appreciate it - but I’d like to enjoy myself tonight and not talk about my pathetic love life.” You smile tightly at him before looking at your empty glass once more and pushing yourself up from your seat. “I’m getting another drink.”

Matty doesn’t utter a word as you get up and make your way to the kitchen - smart man, you think.

Sighing, you make your way around the other party-goers, finding yourself deep in thought. You knew that he had good intentions. Matty can be a dick, but he has a kind heart and has always been a good friend to you.

The issue was that everyone keeps talking like they know exactly what the problem is and how you’re feeling about it, acting as if your situation has an easy fix - when in reality they know absolutely nothing about whatever is going on between the two of you.

George Daniel has been your best mate for ages, you weren’t about to mess all of it up because of some measly feelings. Even if that meant pining in silence, reminding yourself that it’s for the best, trying not to think about what it would be like to be with him in that way. To hug him, but not as a best friend. To spend time with him, but not as a best friend. To kiss-

No. You weren’t going there tonight. You were going to enjoy your time with the boys before they went on tour. There would be no daydreaming about George Daniel and his eyes… and lips… and hands… and-

God. You needed another drink.

Reaching the doorway to the kitchen, you looked in and saw George having a conversation with Ross, his back turned towards where you were standing. He seemed fully immersed in whatever he was talking about and was completely unaware of your presence in the kitchen.

It would be so easy to scare him right now, and just as the thought came to mind, you decided to do just that.

Quietly, you sat your glass down behind the coffee pot and began to slowly walk towards him. Glancing up, you made eye contact with Ross, who quirked his eyebrow upwards. You quickly placed your finger over your lips in response, signaling for him to stay quiet as you crept up slowly behind George.

Realizing what you were trying to do, Ross swiftly looked away from you and began talking to George again, trying to distract him so you could carry out your plan. Once you made it directly behind him, assuring you were completely out of sight, you waited for the perfect moment. And as soon as he opened his mouth to speak, you struck.

You quickly brought up your hands, spreading them open just to snap them closed on George’s waist, aggressively whacking him on either side of his body and letting out a loud yell, “AH!”

“Fucking HELL-” George jumped up in place, swiftly spinning around and fighting off your hands’ attack on his sides by flailing his free arm, the other being occupied by his drink. His face showed nothing short of utter bewilderment, stunned by the sudden attack. His eyebrows pulled down and his mouth gaped open and closed like a fish, unable to comprehend what had just happened.

His reaction, and the expression of shock on his face, sent you into a round of obnoxious laughter - to which Ross joined in on at the expense of his best mate.

“You little shit,” unimpressed, George glared at your laughing figure, bent over at the waist and trying to recompose yourself. “It’s honestly not that funny.”

“Oh, but G, it really was. Your face - absolutely priceless. I wouldn’t have thought your sides would have been so sensitive - you practically levitated off the ground.” Slowly catching your breath, you smiled up at him.

Ross, wanting to stir the pot, gave his own input. “He definitely did - should have seen his face when you got him. Swear I’ve never seen him jump so high.”

George, looking completely unamused, was less than impressed with you and Ross teaming up against him. “I did not. You startled me is all-” He turned to look you dead in the eyes before continuing “-and you’re one to talk. My sides are sensitive, hm? Mine?” George began to smirk and sat his drink next to Ross as he slowly started making his way over to you.

The mischievous glint in his eye was alarming, and you immediately started backing away. You knew what he was up to, and you weren’t about to simply stand there.

With every step he took forward, you took one back, desperately trying to get out of the hole you had just dug for yourself. He kept moving forward, and you kept moving backward - until your back hit the counter and there was nowhere for you to run. However, that didn’t deter George from moving closer still. He continued to walk toward where you were standing, pushing his way into your personal space and pressing you further against the counter.

He looked down at you and smirked, “What was it you said about sensitive sides?” and that's when he struck.

He quickly brought his hands up to your sides, giving you no time to react before he’s started aggressively tickling you. You squealed and burst out laughing, releasing a loud cackling sound that you had no control over.

“George- G wait- GEORGE STOP-'' Your laughter enveloped the kitchen, and caused George’s smirk to slowly turn into a genuine smile. “no NO STOP IT I'M SORRY”

Laughing along with you, George continued his attack. “What was that, darling? I don’t think I heard you- you’re sorry?”

“Stop - STOP YES IM SORRY - IM SORRY PLEASE. George- GEORGE PLEASE NO MORE.”

“See? Was that so hard?” George chuckled at you as you tried to catch your breath and he slowly stopped his attack on your sides.

You looked up at the tree of a man in front of you, trying to hide your smile as you gave him your best attempt at a glare. As soon as you made eye contact, though, your smile broke loose and you couldn’t help but release a half-giggle, half-chuckle at the man you had grown to adore.

The eye contact went unbroken, developing from a look of amusement to a sticky sort of fond look that continued to be passed between the two of you.

“That was nasty of you, G.” You narrowed your eyes at him, pushing on his chest and looking away for a brief moment before your eyes unconsciously drifted back to your best friend.

“I wouldn’t say that I’m the nasty one here, love. Don’t try to sneak up on me next time and you can avoid this mess.” Completely unphased by your light-hearted shove, George simply moved closer, placing his hands on the counter top by each side of your waist, effectively caging you in and bringing your bodies closer than they had been before.

“It was too good of an opportunity, G. I had to.”

The new distance, or rather the lack of such, sent a nervous, giddy feeling straight to your stomach. You and George had been dancing around the tension for weeks, waiting for the other to break - to finally make the first move - but nothing had happened yet and you were getting antsy.

There’s only so much flirting without any effect that you can take before you explode, and tour was starting up in the next week. He would be out of reach then - untouchable until the band was back home for a break. Their return would be months after they leave for tour, and the distance would provide you both with no consistent communication, what with time zones and work.

The pressure was laying heavily on the both of you and the close proximity was making your head fuzzy and your stomach turn - or maybe it was the wine you had been nursing all night - you weren’t sure anymore.

The renewed eye contact had become too much to handle, so you diverted your eyes downward and came face to face with George’s neck and chest. You couldn’t help but slowly drag your eyes across his frame, taking in his chiseled jawline and letting them roam down the expanse of his neck until they caught on an unfamiliar piece of jewelry hanging around it.

Reaching up, you softly slid your finger underneath the necklace and pinched it between your fingers to get a closer look at the piece. It was a simple chain - nothing outrageously large or bulky, but rather a thin, lightweight gold that laid nicely around his neck and had been neatly tucked beneath his shirt.

“Is this new?”

George hadn’t been paying a bit of attention. He was too focused on the smell of your perfume and the soft look that had taken over your features now that you had finally calmed down. You were beautiful. You always had been, but God, if you didn’t look unreal standing so close to him. He was intently committing your features to memory, as if he hadn’t already done so many times before, when you pulled him out of his daze.

“What?” He glanced down at your hands, now holding the thin chain and examining it. “Oh - that? yeah I just got it last week. Hadn’t found a chance to wear it yet, decided tonight was a good time. Do you like it?”

“Mhm, it’s nice.” You weren’t lying, it looked good on him - more than good - but you couldn’t help but tease him a bit. With the chain still between your fingers, you hooked your index finger beneath it and gave a quick tug, bringing his face closer to yours. “- think I could pull it off better, though.”

“Is that so?” George glanced at your face and found you looking at the gold necklace, a small smile gracing your face.

“Oh, definitely. I could pull it off way better than you do.” Your smile turning into a smirk, you tugged on the necklace a bit more, looking up at George to find his eyes trained on your own.

“Mmm, I’m sure you could.” His eyes flicked down to your lips, the smirk there morphing back into a smile, and he couldn’t help but wonder what they would feel like pressed against his own.

You had found yourself in a similar situation. You caught him looking at your lips, causing a flush to crawl up your neck. Later, if anyone asked, you would swear it was because of the wine, NOT because your best friend was looking at your lips like he was dying to explore them with his own.

On their own accord, your eyes had drifted downwards and were staring at his own lips. They had a small upturn to them, a content smile gracing his face as he continued to look at your own.

“Y/n -” It was barely there, a whisper of sorts that you wouldn’t have caught if you hadn’t been intently staring at his lips to see them part as he spoke your name.

With that one breath, everything stopped. You were no longer in the kitchen at a friend’s house, and it felt as if there was no one else around you for miles. It was just you and George sharing this one small moment.

Without noticing, you had both started leaning in. Your stomach started tumbling - was this going to be it? Finally, it was finally going to happen - fuck the consequences - and there was nothing that could stop it, nothing at all -

“Ahem-” Looking positively sheepish, Ross broke the bubble the two of you had created.

In all honesty, you had forgotten that Ross was even there and once broken out of your daze, you realized how close your faces had become. The two of you quickly jumped apart, eyes diverting to look at anything but each other.

“So sorry for interrupting, um, whatever that was -” and to be fair he did look distraught for having been the one to burst your bubble, “- but Matty has been calling George’s name for a bit now and i figured you wouldn’t want him to be the one to break you two apart.”

You and George both grimace. He’s right, you definitely did not want Matty witnessing whatever just happened.

“Plus, it was getting a bit uncomfortable just standing there in silence while that played out.”

You stood there blinking, still trying to come back from your previous daze - which caused George to be the first to respond.

He looks panicked and more than a little distressed. “No- Yeah- I mean no, it’s alright. I- um I should go see what he needs.” And without sparing you another glance, George grabs his drink and walks away.

You watch him walk out of the room, your mouth hung open in disbelief. You had almost kissed. You and George had almost kissed and he just walked away. What the fuck just happened?

“Y/n, listen- I’m sorry for-”

“What? Oh, no it’s um- it’s alright, no worries- Have you, um, have you seen my glass? I don’t, uh, I don’t know where I set it.” You were beyond flustered, and a bit upset. George walked off and it all hit you at once.

You were in love with George Daniel, you had almost kissed him, and now everything was all sorts of messed up. You were absolutely screwed.

Ross, not knowing how to make any of this better and wanting to kick himself for interrupting the moment, just stood there and watched as you flitted about the kitchen - mumbling about where you may have set your glass.

After spending a few minutes half-heartedly looking for your glass, you stop and sigh. “You know, what? Fuck it.” And with that, you walk over to grab the full wine bottle sitting on the countertop next to Ross and hurry your way out of the kitchen to find somewhere else to drown your sorrows. So much for enjoying the night.

Helpless, Ross watches you with wide eyes, before looking around to see if anyone else had just seen that. He makes a mental note to check on you later to make sure you were okay, before walking out of the kitchen in the opposite direction - deciding to give you some time to process what just happened.

In the living room, the party was still in full swing and after being roped into a conversation with Adam and Carly, Ross had forgotten about checking in on you.

Almost an hour had passed, and Matty had yet to see you come back from the kitchen. He looked around the room once more, scanning the many faces to see if he recognized yours amongst them. When his eyes found George across the room and didn’t see you anywhere near him, he excused himself from the conversation and set off to find where you had gone to.

After searching the outside patio, the kitchen, one hallway closet, and two bedrooms, you were still nowhere to be found. Matty had absolutely no idea as to where you could be and was growing more worried by the second. He knew you could take care of yourself, and he knew you could hold your liquor - but if he wasn’t mistaken, you had been drinking red wine tonight and you tended to get yourself into unfortunate situations when red wine was added to the equation.

He began walking back down the hall, passing the bathroom before an idea came to mind. Backtracking, he went back to the closed door and knocked twice, calling out to see if anyone was inside. “Hello? Anyone in here?”

When there was no response, Matty tried the door knob and found it unlocked. He opened the door and stuck his face inside, glancing around the bathroom and finding it to be empty. He sighed and was about to leave the bathroom once more when he heard a scuffle come from the shower and -

“Shit.”

Matty stopped in his tracks at the all too familiar voice and pushed the door completely open. He slowly walked over to the shower, before grabbing the curtain and quickly pulling it back only to find your figure awkwardly curled in the bathtub, clutching a mostly-empty wine bottle.

“Um, hi?” You looked up at Matty with a guilty look on your face, giving your best attempt at a smile - one that was none too convincing based on Matty’s responding grimace.

“The fuck are you doing?” Matty looked at you expectantly, glancing from the wine bottle and back to your face.

“Well- you see… I don’t, uh, I don’t know. It was just so calm and quiet, Matty. And the wine was making me just a little dizzy and so was George and - Oh god, George - Matty I really want George but I think I just fucked it all up - oh god. ” You started rambling, your words beginning to slur together into a whine - and if Matty didn’t already think you were drunk when he first saw the bottle in your hands, he was sure of it now.

“Christ, Y/n - how much of that have you had to drink?”

“Only -” You brought up your free hand and pinched your index finger and thumb together, leaving a tiny space between them and squinting to look through it, “- thiiiis much.”

Matty sighed for what felt like the millionth time that night. Since when did he become the responsible one between the two of you.

He walked back to the door, shutting it behind him, before turning back around and sitting down next to the tub. “What happened, love?”

“Oh, nothing really - I just scared George in the kitchen and he tickled me and then we almost kissed but Ross interrupted and then G all but ran out of the room and i couldn’t find my glass and I really needed a drink and so i just grabbed the whole bottle and wanted to go somewhere quiet and so i came in here just in case I had to pee and i ended up in the shower and i can’t stop thinking about George an-”

“Fucks sake, Y/n. Take a breath for me.” You had started talking a mile a minute, gesturing your hands while still holding the bottle of wine and somehow managing to spill some of it down the side of the bathtub.

“Ah, shit. I’ve gone and spilt it again.”

Matty was staring at you with wide eyes, trying and failing to hide his shock. He hadn’t a clue what was going on and was sure this would be a shit-ton to unpackage later - but he’d already had a few drinks and there was no way he was processing any of this tonight.

And you - you were completely plastered and doing a poor job at hiding it. Not that Matty could blame you after everything that had just tumbled from your lips. He watched as you tried to clean up the mess you had made with the corner of your shirt before huffing and letting your head fall back harshly against the shower wall.

The contact made a loud thump, making both Matty and yourself wince. “Y/n, love, are you okay?”

You gave a short, empty chuckle in response and leveled him with a deadpan look. “Oh, I’m just lovely, Matthew. Thank you so much for asking.” You sigh again, lifting your head just to let it fall once more as you groan.

Reaching out for you, Matty stopped you as you went to lift your head. “Okay- maybe don’t be doing that again. Do you need anything? Want me to get you something? Some water maybe?”

“Can you get George for me pretty please?” You closed your eyes, opening them back up when Matty had yet to respond.

He was searching your face, trying to see if getting George was the best idea.

“Matty, please? I’m not gunna do anything stupid, ‘promise.” You gave him a dopey-looking drunk smile, and held up your pinky trying to convince him.

“But-”

“Just because I’m in love with him doesn’t mean I can’t act normal after a few drinks. Please? He’s my ride home.”

Matty’s eyes widen, not expecting that to come out of your mouth. You had never explicitly said how you felt about George before, only that your feelings for him went past platonic and that you were too scared to act on them. It didn’t seem like you were aware of what you had just said, though, so Matty decided to let it slide and store it away for a later time (along with everything else that had happened that night).

He sighed, yet again. “Yeah, okay. I’ll - I’ll go get him, but I need you to stay here, alright?”

Nodding sluggishly, you watched as Matty stood himself up and went to leave the bathroom - assuming he was going to find George.

Once Matty had left and shut the door behind him, you - carefully this time - laid your head back to rest against the wall and closed your eyes. The room had started to tilt and your stomach had started to turn; but you’d be damned if you threw up now.

You had overdone it with the wine, you knew that already, but who could really blame you? After almost kissing the man you were oh-so-unfortunately in love with (who also happened to be your oldest and closest friend) and having him practically sprint out of the room to get away from you, you figured you were entitled to get just a little drunk.

To be fair, you were much more than a little drunk - having downed the majority of the bottle of wine that was full once upon a time - but you needed to not think for a moment.

You didn’t want to think about George’s hands at your sides, or his arms caging you against the counter. You didn’t want to think about how he looked at you so fondly before staring directly, and not-so-subtly, at your lips. You didn’t want to think about his broad shoulders and chest, or that stupidly attractive gold chain necklace that was hanging so beautifully around his neck. You didn’t want to - yet here you were thinking about it anyway.

At this point, your head had started to pound. God, how much had you drank for your head to already be hurting before the hangover had even started? You went to open your eyes, but the lights were blinding and you immediately shut them again.

With the room silent and your eyes closed, you took a moment to look over your night.

You weren’t sure why you had almost kissed him, but you could have sworn he wanted it to happen too. It couldn’t have been all in your head - you were delusional at times, but that was too cruel even for your own mind. That didn’t explain why he had bolted, though. Maybe he was embarrassed to have wanted to kiss you, or maybe he was drunk and thought you were someone else.

The night had become a disaster, and you prayed everyone else was at least having a good time. You had come tonight so you could enjoy some time with your friends before they left on tour, not so you could wallow in self pity over the fact that you wanted your best friend in a completely non-platonic way. How you had managed to get to the point where you were spilling wine in a bathtub was beyond you, however one thing had become extremely clear tonight: you weren’t sure how much longer you would be able to hide these ridiculous feelings before you quite literally exploded into 1,975 tiny little pieces.

You huffed and brought your arm up to rest it over your eyes. This train of thought wasn’t helping your mood one bit. If anything, it just made you want to cry, but you were far too wasted to push yourself off the path of self-destruction.

When you heard the bathroom door open, you didn’t move an inch and kept your eyes closed, assuming it was just Matty again.

“Matty, I really just want George,” you mumbled into your arm that was still draped over your face, while the other hand brought the wine bottle closer to your chest.

“You have me, Darling. I’m right here.”

Your eyes shot open at the familiar voice that most definitely did not belong to Matty Healy, only to find your best friend leaning against the door frame.

“Georgieee-” And by that nickname alone, George knew you were extremely drunk.

Matty had warned him of your state, briefly telling him that you were far from sober - but he hadn’t said it was this bad. You only ever use that name when you’re wasted, it was G or George otherwise

“Hello, Darling.” Your insides turned to mush at the name, physically sinking further into the bathtub and whining.

“Oh God, don’t do that.” You drug your hand down your face, as if you could wipe away the alcohol’s effect. You had no control of what was coming out of your mouth right now, and you probably wouldn’t remember most of this by morning. It was a recipe for disaster and you swore his presence was only making you feel more drunk.

“What- do what?” George looked at you with genuine confusion. Had he done something?

“Do that thing. Y’know - with your eyes and your voice and the ‘Darling’.” you dropped your voice as low as you could at the word ‘darling’, mocking his voice before proceeding to groan loudly. “ugh- that thing that makes me really want you and your attention.”

George chuckled at your words, looking down at you with that same sticky sort of fond look that made you want to melt under his gaze. “You have me, love. I’m paying attention - promise.”

You groaned again, “No - Stooppp.” You immediately looked away from his face and threw your hand over your eyes.

Laughing at your childish actions, George reached over to pry your hand away from your face, smiling as you gave in almost immediately. “Stop what? I’m giving you what you wanted right? You wanted me and my attention - so here I am.”

Apparently you had become one to make many noises tonight, because you simply whined in response, weakly trying to pull your hand from George’s grasp. “No- George you don’t get it. I don’t want it like that. I don’t want you like a best friend.”

At that, he let go of your hand and stared. You obviously hadn’t registered your words, too drunk to realize what you had accidentally let slip, and George didn’t know how to react. He had a gut feeling that you had gotten this plastered because of him, and with it came an unwelcome feeling of guilt.

Of course he wanted to kiss you back in the kitchen, he would be a fool to have wanted otherwise. But he was drunk and you were his best friend. Just because he wanted to kiss you then and there didn’t mean he had the right to ruin your friendship over some complicated feelings.

He doubted you knew what you were saying, anyways. You were drunk. It didn’t mean anything.

“Alright, Y/n. Let’s get you home.”

Sighing and pouting slightly, you reached both arms outwards and made grabbing motions with your hands, signaling for George to help you up. George huffed out a laugh at your actions before grabbing your hands and pulling upwards to get you in a standing position.

Once standing upright, you started feeling dizzy and began to wobble on your feet. Yeah, you had definitely had too much to drink.

Reaching back out to stabilize you, George lightly held both of your hips. “Woah, there Y/n/n. You alright? Can you stand by yourself?”

As soon as the question left his mouth, you felt the room spin and you immediately started to shake your head. “Um nope - no, definitely not.”

George looked at you and sighed. “Okay then, hold on.” And with that, he bent down, placing one arm behind your back and the other behind your knees, before lifting you up bridal style and bringing you into his chest.

You gasped, bringing your arms up and around George’s neck. “What are you doing, I’m fine-”

“Y/n. No you're not, you can barely stand, much less walk. So I'm carrying you outside to get a taxi, and you are going to let me.”

You balked at him for a moment before responding, “yes sir!” and giving him a quick salute. You placed your arm back around his neck as he began walking out of the bathroom and through the house.

You barely registered his good-bye’s as he quickly made his way through the now small crowd of people. How long had you been in that bathroom?

As if he had read your thoughts, “You were in there for a while, most of them already headed home. Mainly just the boys left now.”

You nodded your head as George stepped outside, walking to the road where a taxi was already waiting on the two of you. He set you down, helping you maneuver your way into the car before sliding in next to you.

As soon as he shut the door behind him, you sluggishly slid over to sit in the middle seat and rested your head on George’s shoulder. You twisted, dragging your eyes to look at him, when they caught on his gold necklace again.

You slowly brought your hand up and started messing with the chain. “‘Really like your necklace, G,” you mumbled sleepily into his shoulder. “Think I want one for me, too.”

You glanced up at your best friend - giving him a small, tired smile - and found him already looking down at you.

The eye contact was soft, lacking the heat and tension that was present earlier in the night. George watched as you tried to hold it, but ultimately failed as you grew too tired to keep your eyes open any longer.

That’s how you fell asleep, with your head lying on your best friend’s shoulder and your hand on his chest, lightly gripping his gold necklace.

You vaguely remember being woken up so that George could help you into your flat and being led to your room where you quickly stripped out of your clothes and put on a t-shirt from the top of your drawer before climbing in the bed.

By the time your head hit the pillow, you had already started dozing off again; but you could have sworn you felt your hair being tucked behind your ear and a kiss being pressed to your face.

A soft, “Goodnight, Darling” was the last thing you heard before succumbing to a deep, alcohol-induced sleep.

• • •

When you woke the next afternoon, it was with a horrendous headache and no recollection of what had happened after you ran from the kitchen with a full bottle of wine.

Groaning, you had rolled over to look at the clock when you felt an unfamiliar weight around your neck. You brought your hand to the hollow of your neck, grabbing at the weight and lifting it far enough away from your chest to catch a glimpse at the item. What you saw made your breath hitch as you brought your other hand up to cover your mouth.

It was George’s gold chain necklace.

You checked your phone, finding one notification from George himself:

Don’t be mad - you kept saying how much you liked it, so I just left it with you.

I can always get another one

You softly smiled, thumbing at the gold now lying around your neck. You were absolutely, positively smitten with your best friend, and you hadn’t a clue what you were going to do about it.

That was two months ago, and while you wish you could say that you gathered the courage to make a move before the boys left for tour, you hadn’t been given the chance. Things had gotten busy for you at work and the lads had been preoccupied with tour preparations, leaving you all with no time to get together or speak before they were heading off to the states.

You had exchanged a few messages with them, of course, and you had tried to call when time and work allowed, but it wasn’t quite the same. You missed your friends. You missed George.

The two of you had messaged each other almost daily, however you never seemed to be able to catch each other at the right time - narrowly missing his messages and calls by mere minutes and then being unable to reach him again afterwards.

His gold necklace had found a permanent place around your neck, you rarely took it off - your friends joking that it may as well be a tattoo permanently etched into your skin - but it had become a comforting presence in the absence of George.

When you missed George - which was almost constantly - or when things became a bit much, you would find yourself gripping the necklace, rubbing the gold chain in search of comfort. It was nowhere near the level of comfort George himself brought you, but it did well enough.

You werent, however, moping about just because George was gone. You were a proud, strong, independent woman, and you could function perfectly fine without him. This wasn’t his first tour, and you weren’t new to the overall lack of George. Your world didn’t revolve around him - you had a job and a life outside of the boys - but that also didn’t mean you didn’t miss your closest friends when they went away.

You were fine, honestly, but sometimes you simply wanted to chat with the boys about nonsense or complain about your days like you often did when they were home. On their previous tours, you had been able to still talk to them - but your new job had made it almost impossible and you were struggling.

However, it was the barely missed messages from George that made this tour more difficult than the rest.

It was the simple “Miss you, Darling &lt;3” text that made you unbelievably giddy and the quick voice messages he would leave when you inevitably missed his call - each starting with a “Hello, Darling” and ending with “Love you, Darling. Talk to you soon.”

It was two long months of poor communication and getting flustered by the smallest bits of attention you would get from him. You had missed him before, but the longing that came with his absence this time was different and you were acutely aware of it.

You would tear up watching the clips from the end of their latest show as they bowed to the crowd, George wrapping Matty in one of his hugs that you desperately craved. Your stomach would turn, imagining him out at some club with a girl that wasn’t you, hugging a girl who wasn’t you, kissing a girl that was not you.

It was envy. It was jealousy. It was longing and wanting. You were in love with him, that much you had come to terms with, but it was two weeks before they were due back home that you came to the gut-wrenching conclusion that you weren’t okay with not trying something.

You decided that you couldn’t sit back and watch anymore - you were going to make him realize that you were a fucking catch. You were a fucking catch and you had been there the whole time, through thick and thin, for worse or for better, and you fucking loved him.

When you got a message from George, one inviting you out once they got back, you jumped at the opportunity.They were wanting to get a group together - you, the band, and some other close mutual friends - to go out for a night of fun a few days after Christmas and you were practically buzzing at the thought.

You hadn’t had a proper night out since before the lads had left for tour, and paired with the prospect of seeing your best friends again after months apart, your nerves were completely shot.

Never before had you been nervous to see the boys. You’d known them for years, and you were sure that it was mostly excitement that was keeping you awake at night, but there was still that small bit of anxiety that crept in when you thought about seeing George.

You were so happy to be seeing him again - but now that you were aware of how you felt about him, you were worried that things would change for the worse. What if you were awkward? What if you got flustered and embarrassed yourself? What if those messages were just to his best friend and you had been reading too far into them? What if you put yourself out there to be rejected?

You were spiraling. Why were you spiraling? It’s just George. Your George, your best friend. You were completely overthinking all of it. It wasn’t like you were going to confess your undying love the first time you see him after months. It would be fine - so long as you didn’t freak yourself out. It’s a get together with a bunch of friends, not the end of the world.

Even so, you couldn’t help but feel a bit of pressure to at least look your best. It wasn’t a need to impress anyone, honestly. You just wanted to get dressed up, to look nice after wearing the same boring clothes every day for work - and this outing just happened to give you that opportunity. George being there was just a happy coincidence.

Plus, it finally gave you a reason to wear the new dress you had bought.

You hadn’t intended to buy anything while you were out last week, you just wanted to get out of the house and do something not work related. But then you saw it through the window and you knew you had to at least try it on.

The dress was a far cry from your usual getup - not one for dresses and frilly things - but something about it was calling to you.

It was a simple, silky black dress with a deep v-cut in the neck that perfectly displayed your breasts. The top of the dress was lined with gold and the straps came up and around your neck before zig-zagging down your back and lacing up the dress, forgoing the struggle of any zippers. There were two meticulously placed slits above each knee, giving a clear view of the sides of your thighs and allowing for movement in the fitting material.

It was gorgeous, and you felt powerful in it. The way it emphasized your curves in all the right places, molding to your body and showing off all of your assets had you head over heels for the dress. Overall it was a relatively plain dress- but it fit you so well that it looked like it was intricately made just for you.

And maybe you had George on your mind when you tried it on, maybe you saw an image of it lying on the ground after he had taken it off of you. It wasn’t exactly the worst thought.

And so you bought it. You had no clue when you planned to wear it, you just knew you had to have it - in hopes that maybe, just maybe, that fantasy could come to life.

When George invited you out, you decided it was the perfect opportunity to wear it. So you put on the dress, along with a pair of heels that lace up your legs, and left your flat feeling more confident than you had in months.

All of which brought you to where you are now, at a table in the corner of the club, clutching your drink and watching on as George chats up some girl at the bar.

You watch as she places her hand on his bicep before laughing a little too enthusiastically at whatever it was George had been saying.

If you didn’t know any better, you would think they were getting on just fine and that George was going to have a successful pull tonight; but you do know better.

You see how his eyes go wide when she looks away for a moment, removing her hand from him to grab her drink. The way he looks at her like she's grown two heads and is likely thinking what the fuck is going on.

And when she places her hand back on his arm, you see how he tenses ever so slightly and doesn’t seem to relax.

The sight makes you grip your glass tighter. Any confidence you had when you left the flat had all but disappeared once you caught sight of your best friend. You had been so excited to see him, you didn’t stop to think about whether he would be preoccupied with someone else.

Someone else who is so conventionally pretty that you feel like your dress pales in comparison - even if George seems uncomfortable with all the attention she keeps trying to smother him with.

“If you grip that glass any tighter I think you might break it.”

The unexpected but familiar voice breaks you out of your sulking, if only for a moment, as you sigh before glancing at the man who was now cockily leaning against the post next to your table.

You look him up and down before sighing, “Matthew.”

His response is immediate, “Y/n.”

“To what do I owe the displeasure?”

Matty gasps, throwing his hand over his heart in mock offense and looking at you with wide eyes that show the amusement and mischief dancing in them.

“Now, y/n/n, is that any way to greet your dear friend after two long months apart?”

You shoot him an unamused look in response.

Matty, however, ignores you and continues on. “I couldn’t help but notice your brooding and decided that I’d come save the glass from imminent destruction.”

You roll your eyes and put as much sarcasm as possible into your response. “Wow, Ratty- you’re a true comedian.”

He simply smirks at your tone. “What can I say? I’m a natural.”

You huff out a laugh, unable to stop yourself. You had to admit, you’d missed having him around - regardless of how insufferable he could be.

Matty had a tendency to be so obnoxious that it easily took your mind off of whatever you were originally thinking about, and you knew he acted this way with that exact purpose in mind.

Coming up next to you, Matty smiles as he reaches his arm around your shoulders for a side hug and gives you a shake. “Oh, didn’t you just miss me so much?”

You give a good laugh at that before turning to look him in the eyes and giving him a deadpan look, saying, “Oh, yes. So much, Matty. Not sure how I survived these two, absolutely horrible, months apart.” with the most sarcasm you could muster.

Matty lets out a loud cackle and pulls you closer. “Oh, how I've missed your cheery self.” You can't help but smile at him. “How’ve you been, Y/n/n?”

You shrug, "Alright, yeah. How've you been? How was tour?"

And that question alone sends Matty into a long winded explanation of what they had gotten into during tour and what it was like this time around.

It was somewhere between his description of their Madison Square Garden show and the afterparty that you stopped listening.

It wasn't on purpose by any means, you truly did want to hear about how everything went this time around, but you were distracted.

Distracted because George was still talking to that girl - more like she was talking to him and he was being forced to listen - and he looked like he was growing more uncomfortable by the second. Couldn't she see that he wasn't interested?

Matty was still talking as you continued to watch them interact. You watch her say something and see George's eyes go comically wide as he looks around to see if anyone else was seeing this - or maybe he was looking for an escape.

You see her go to grab his hand and watch as he swiftly moves both hands

away to clutch at his drink. She seems to only pause for a moment before she decides to place her hand on his thigh. His thigh. And you see the way George stiffens under her touch, making you tense up yourself.

"You really might break that glass if you don't let go - that or you're going to burn a hole into that poor girl's head with all your staring."

You jump a little at Matty's sudden comment, not expecting him to direct the conversation towards you again. You look down at your glass, finally realizing that you had, in fact, been gripping the glass so hard that your knuckles had begun to turn white - and you immediately let go.

Looking back at Matty, you see both amusement and sympathy in his eyes, making you let out a scoff. 

"Don't know what you're going on about, Matty - what was it you were saying about the afterparty?"

Matty chuckles at your poor attempt at changing the topic, he wasn't letting it slide this time. "Oh don't go pretending like you were listening, Y/n/n. I moved on from the Garden afterparty a good bit ago, you just weren't paying attention.

You make an indignant sound at that. "That's not true, I-"

"Don't even try, love," Matty smirks at you before glancing over at George and patting your shoulder. "No worries, you were distracted - understandably so, he looks a bit cozy doesn't he?"

You scoff immediately. “No, he does not.”

Matty grins at you, “Oh?”

“He looks ridiculously uncomfortable right now, just look at him,” gesturing your arm over in George’s direction.

Matty directs his attention to his best mate, watching as the girl bats her eyelashes and lays her hand on George’s arm. He sees the way George tenses under her touch and the way his eyes widen to whatever she’s just said. 

“That’s the fifth time she’s tried to touch him, and he basically freezes every time.” You huff. 

“Five times, huh? You keeping count, y/n/n?” Matty turns to head to look at you, entertained by your mood.

You make an indignant noise at his words, “What? No- I- I'm just being a good friend is all.”

Matty nods his head exaggeratedly in false agreement, turning back to watch George. “Right, yes- a good friend… that you happen to be in love with.” Your jaw drops. “Definitely not jealousy.”

“How did you-”

He cuts you off, “Did you know, Y/n -” he briefly glances your way, “that red wine makes you rather talkative?”

You let out a loud groan, placing your head in your hands. 

Matty chuckles at your reaction, “Easy now, it’s alright- we already knew as much.”

“We? Oh my god, does George-” Your head shoots up in time to see Matty shaking his head. 

“No, you didn’t tell him and he doesn’t know - at least not unless you told him once we left you alone.”

You let out a sigh of relief, slumping into your seat and placing your head back into your hands. Being drunk wasn’t the way you wanted to tell George how you felt. 

Honestly, you had hoped to do it tonight, but any confidence you had to address the situation has long since disappeared. 

You keep your face in one hand while the other subconsciously starts fiddling with the necklace around your neck, thankful for its presence and the comfort it offers.

“He does look like he’s having an awful time doesn’t he?”

Matty’s words break you out of your head, and you look up to see George with his head thrown back and staring at the ceiling as if he was wishing for it to swallow him whole, paying absolutely no attention to whatever it is that the girl happens to be saying.

“It’s actually painful to watch.” You shake your head at the scene.

“If it’s so painful, why don’t you walk your perky self over there and help him?”

You turn to look at Matty, giving him a glare for his choice of wording. He really thinks he’s funny, doesn’t he?

To be honest, you aren’t sure why you hadn’t gone over there to help him yet. You’d been debating it for a bit now, and there’s every reason to go over there and get him out of the mess he’s found himself in - but there was something still holding you back. 

You sigh, “I don’t know, Matty.”

Matty purses his lips and looks back at the bar as his phone buzzes in his pocket. 

“Not sure what you think could go wrong - he’s definitely not enjoying himself.”

He makes no move to get it, even as it buzzes a few more times. You open your mouth to snarkily respond to his comment, but the short spaces of silence turn into a long, consistent buzzing sound - completely cutting you off.

The sound is beyond irritating, even more so because Matty still chooses to ignore the vibrations in his pocket. “For fucks sake, Matty. Will you answer your damn phone? At least silence it if you aren’t going to respond.”

“I’m sorry, is it bothering you, y/n/n?” Matty gives you a cheeky smile, to which you stare back unamused, as he finally reaches into his pocket.

He pulls his phone out and unlocks it with every intention of just turning off his phone for a bit - that is, until he sees who the messages are from. He pauses to read the incoming texts and lets out a loud chuckle.

“Well then, y/n. I’d consider this a sign if I ever saw one.”

You look at him confused. “What- What are you going on about?”

He simply glances up from his phone smirking and says, “Looks like your loverboy needs saving.” 

He turns the phone around to show you his phone screen where you see 23 messages from George, and you watch as one more comes through that makes you let out a breathy laugh.

Help

Mate seriously

Get me a glass of milk

Asap

Milk me, seriously

Help

Now

Please

At this point come throw a glass of milk on me

So she will fucking fuck the fuck  o f f

Matty I’m spamming you for a reason

I know you’re laughing

Stop it

Can you actually be a good mate for once please

Matty

Matt

MATTHEW

You fuckhead why don’t you have your phone on you

THIS IS WHY HANN IS BETTER THAN YOU. 

I need you to

HELP ME NOW

Cunt. just now

You read over his messages, laughing at the panic that you can practically feel emanating through the phone. “Oh you are absolutely gonna hear it later.”

“Yeah, yeah - I’m very much aware. It’ll be fine, he’s going to like my solution better anyways.” You’re still chuckling at George’s messages and you look back at Matty as he speaks, pulling his phone back. 

“What?” You watch as he quickly types something out, pressing send and putting his phone away. 

You’re still staring at him in confusion while he looks at you expectantly. “Well?” He huffs, “Why are you still sitting here? She’s on your man.”

And you don't have time to overthink what it is that you’re about to do before you stand up.

• • •

Part 2

a/n: Okay, that's it for part 1 of 2 - up next is the fun part and my personal favourite half of the story. I hope you guys enjoyed!! see you same time next week <3 xoxo - K

[elliesbelle]

Hi!!! i was wondering if i could maybe request an abby x fem! reader where abby is like a nervous wreck around reader? like, sweaty, beat red in the face, stuttering, and tripping over her own feet and readers super sweet but completely oblivious ?? i’m a sucker for that that trope!! thank you!!

loser!abby around her crush

abby had only recently come out, having realized she’s a lesbian only after she was finally in her 20s

she’s had crushes on girls before, of course, but it wasn't something she'd fully processed at the time

and now when she develops crushes, it’s much more different in that she’s more aware of herself

doesn't stop her from being a complete anxious mess, though

the first time she laid eyes on you, she goes almost slack-jawed and nearly drools on herself

abby’s usually a very cool and confident person

but girls? she’s unfortunately the definition of a "useless lesbian”

you'd been out for longer than she has, so you're a bit more collected when it comes to being around the girls you like

so when you met her for the first time, you were able to handle yourself well enough in the moment

but it didn't stop your heart from fluttering and your breath from hitching

your inner struggle about your attraction to her distracted you from abby's face flushing and her jaw tightening and her shifting her weight back and forth on her feet

of course you liked her, but you didn't do anything about it because you were absolutely convinced she just saw you as a friend

because of that, you remained completely oblivious to the true reason behind her sudden tense behaviour when you entered the room

you eventually just assumed that was the kind of person she was

you tried not to be too physically affectionate with her because she didn't seem to enjoy it (she did, but the way she reacted to it visually just made it seem like it stressed her out), but that's just the type of person you are, so sometimes you slip without meaning to

whenever you stood next to her, she'd be swaying slightly from side to side in total nervousness

when you're conversing with her one-on-one, she tries to avoid direct eye contact with you out of fear that you would somehow be able to read her yearning thoughts about you

abby's definitely chewed on her lip a little too hard that she's broken skin a few times when she'd be watching you just go about, performing what would seem like the most mundane things to other people. but to her, she would watch you endlessly in awe if she could

you've definitely wondered if you'd made her upset a few times because she'll be rigidly crossing her arms, looking very stiff and uncomfortable when you'd just be hanging out

when in reality, she's just internally chastising herself for pinning so pathetically after you

there have been a few times that your face has gotten a little too close to hers, and her breathing would suddenly get uneasy and she would not stop stuttering and repeating herself and eventually just forgetting any train of thought

any time that your skin would make contact with hers?

on top of her heart beating approximately 100x more than usual, her head and fingers and toes tingling, every beautifully sculpted muscle of hers tensing up, sweating in every crevice possible,

she'd just about nearly passed out every single time from the slightest bit of your touch

it wasn't until one day when you were both walking to a restaurant for lunch, just the two of you, that your obliviousness was lifted ever so slightly

you were walking alongside each other on the sidewalk (abby making sure to keep just enough distance as not to accidentally brush up against you), and you were laughing at some joke abby made

it distracted you enough that the tip of your foot got caught in a crack in the pavement

you would have absolutely eaten shit and gotten a face full of pavement had abby not caught you just in time before you'd completely tripped

you felt her strong, warm arms tightly embrace your figure from behind you, protecting you from the fall

your usual calm composure when it came to your little crush on abby was shaken, with you suddenly sweating and quickly getting woozy

she pulls you up from your bent position, keeping you still wrapped around her arms, and turns you to face her

she inspects your face intensely, unsure if she really did prevent you from getting hurt

you watch her with wide eyes, extremely aware of how her own face was mere inches from yours

when she sighs in relief that you're unharmed, she finally realizes how close you are to each other

you stay completely frozen in this moment of her still holding you tightly, staring at each other intensely

you notice how her eyes drift between your eyes and your lips, and for a second, you think she might actually do something

but the moment passes as she clears her throat and finally releases you before making a joke about your clumsiness

you laugh nervously at it, still nervously reeling from what just happened

there's absolutely no way she could feel the same way about you. right?

author's notes:

sorry this request took forever to get to but here it is finallyyyyy, y'all know i'm slow about requests cause i'm an anal perfectionist, saury

i really need to write more for my girl abby, she deserves the world. y'all just know my heart (and vagina) belong to my wife ellie.

hope this is what you were looking for, anon!

my masterlist

i have a ko-fi if you like my work so much that you feel compelled to tip me ♡︎

[mactiir]

so I've been out as nonbinary for a while. there is a very specific pet peeve I have around how people talk about enbys, and it's the assumption/joke that I don't have a gender. even OTHER enbys do this! i roomed with a fellow genderqueer for a trip recently and she made the (admittedly hilarious) joke that there were two of us in the room but not a single gender between us. I had a student make the (also very funny) comment that "mx mactiir has got drip but no gender."

But like. I HAVE a gender, it's just that it's MY gender, not one of the binary ones -- hence why it's nonBINARY not nonGENDER.

Like, I adore agender folks, but? We’re not all agender! I'm actually genderfluid, so you could even say I have several genders, if we’re talking over a long enough period of time. My gender isn't some null space just because I have said I do not want to be referred to as either binary set. The "they have no gender" jokes are sorta funny, but they are also patently, extremely incorrect for me and also a little uncomfortable.

I don’t really know where this pervasive idea that nonbinary=no gender came from, and while I appreciate that the response has shifted somewhat (I don't really get "nonbinary? What's that?" anymore), this still is misgendering vibes. Please don't make assumptions about someone's gender unless you have asked. There are a lot of ways to exist under one set of pronouns, and that goes for enbies too.

[lemonnsss]

Moral of the Story Chapter 4

Gif by: @celebritiesandmovies

A/N- I’m so sorry for the late update! I’ve had some issues with my health recently that have led to some related issues in school; but, I’ve been feeling a lot better and tried to edit this up quickly.

It’s not my best work, but I had no idea what to do with this chapter, please forgive the nonsense.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

Taglist: @vicmc624 , @mostlymarvelgirl , @yvonneeeee, @beetlejuicesupremacy , @moonlightreader649 , @whattheduckisupkyle , @chrisevans-realwife, @nekoannie-chan , @mrsbarnes32557038 , @imyourbratzdoll , @weallhaveadestiny

Word Count: 1.2k

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. The thought that Scott would leave never so much as crossed my mind. How could it? Jean and Scott had been dating since the seventh grade.

I must have reread his email half a million times, each time hung on the words “I’m leaving the mansion too.”

I was pulled from my shock as I heard the door shut behind me. I put my phone away, internally prepared myself for the interview questions, and turned around, standing from the chair. I began to talk before I saw the figure, “Hello, again Ms. Potts. That was quite the situation-” I stopped. I had expected to see Ms. Potts. Instead, there stood Tony, who seemed equally shocked to see me there.

“Why hasn’t Pep sent you out yet?” He moved from the door to the desk, “The last person to make it this long had a mental breakdown a week later.” He passed my side, slipping onto her desk. He kicked his legs slightly before he appeared to remember I was still present.

“Regardless, where is Pepper? She usually never leaves interviewees unattended,” He leans back, bracing himself on one of his arms as he reaches to the top of the shortest stack with the other quickly lifting the top sheet and, while scanning it, says, “and most certainly never leaves them around confidential company information.”

“Technically, the interview hasn’t begun.” An uncomfortable pause fell in the room as he waited for me to elaborate, “Her regular assistant is on maternity leave. Her fill-in accidentally double-booked her- she’s in a meeting right now.”

He let his head fall back dramatically as he scoffed, “Shame, I had wanted to tell her something in private. Do you know who’s all in there with her?” A cocky smirk plastered on his face.

“No? Why, Tony?”

He slipped off the desk, similarly to when he hopped up, “Oh, nothing. Just have a bit of information to share with the class.” he was almost halfway across the room when he turned back to me. His smirk was now a shit-eating grin.

“Wait,” I ran to the man, grabbing his wrist, his expression turning amused, “if the information is so important, would it not be better to share it with her privately as you originally intended.”

I suppose I had a stern expression as I said that as Tony burst out laughing, “What am I? A schoolboy scolded by his teacher?”

“Not far off on the teacher part.” He stopped for a moment before a small smile came across his face.

“Really now? When was that?” He leaned against the table again, his interest shifting to the current topic more and more.

“It was my last job. I taught at a private academy outside Salem for almost three years.”

“Interesting. And what provoked the sudden career change?”

“I don’t believe I owe you that information, Mr. Stark, unless it pertains to a crime.”

A silence passed as he tilted his head one way and then the other. “Fair point. It doesn’t apply to California's laws, but sure, plead the fifth. I won’t judge you.”

“Oh no,” I said sarcastically, “how could I ever go on with the great Tony Stark judging me!”

“Ha-ha, very funny.” He moved his hands in an almost childish manner. Playing to exaggerate his point, “You don’t seem like the type to leave such a luxurious position for any old reason. And given that you didn’t have a job lined up, you left quickly. Why is that?”

“... My long-term partner and fellow teacher at the institution cheated on me with our co-worker.”

I looked up, his face seeming to wander between holding back a chuckle and ‘Oh shit’.

After quickly stiffening his laugh, a voice rang out behind, “Well, that’s quite the loss on their end.” Ms. Potts said from her place, leaning on the doorframe. Noticing her, I stood up, “You were a great help today, and from the small glimpse I’ve seen with you and Tony, well, I think he’ll be in good hands.” 

By the time she finished her sentence, she was standing in front of myself and Tony. He still placed his weight on the desk but now he stood with his back straightened. I couldn’t help but let out a light chuckle, watching how much his demeanor changed when trying to maintain a good image around her.

“Please, Ms.Potts-“

“-Call me, Pepper. Please.”

“Alright… Pepper. Thank you, but you’re too kind. I just did what I could to help. That’s nothing to be hired over.”

I watched as she placed a hand on her hip, looked at Tony, then looked back at me.

“Hun, I mean this in the nicest way I can,” she says as she placed her hand on my shoulder lightly pushing me to sit, “do you want this fucking job?”

"Yes?"

“Great! You’re hired. Tony is scheduled to attend an event in Milan later this week so, I’d recommend you get ready for it. You’ll be at the convention for four days, not including travel days, please keep that in mind while packing. Now, if you don’t mind,” she moved her arm in front of her covered desk, “I have a few rather large stacks of paperwork to get to. Tony will show you to your office, once you’re done you’re free to leave,” she moved around the desk to type something on the computer, “I’ll have the receptionist send the order out for your ID badge, we’ll most likely have it tomorrow, otherwise it will be the day after that.” She moved up to Tony and me pushing him off her desk and casually shooing us to the door, “Congrats on the new secretary, Tony, don���t fuck it up. And to you, good luck.”

And just like that, I was standing outside of Ms. Potts' office with Mr. Stark. He led me over to his office, the room was rather cluttered but, inside and to the left there was a door. He looked over his shoulder, I guess to check to see if I was still there. He then opened the door, which, led to the secretary’s office.

“There’s another door leading in from the hall, so, please, don’t feel required to come through this room every morning. If you have any other questions, you have my number. Otherwise, I have better things to do.”

“I’m good Mr. Stark.”

“Mr. Stark was my father, call me Tony.”

“Okay then, Tony.”

“Well, I’ll be seeing you then.” He gave a slight wave and walked out into his office. The sound of his door closing let me know he was either leaving or heading back to Pepper’s. 

I took another look around the room, it was well-furnished and fairly clean. There was nothing I could see that needed repair either. I wouldn't need to bring anything in.

We boarded the plane about sixteen hours ago and finally reached our destination. We were about five minutes from landing. I got up to wake up Tony, who had been asleep for the past four hours.

I walked over to his chair, slightly nudging his shoulder, “Mr. Stark, wake up. We’re about to land.”

“Fuck you”

“Apologies, sir.” I sat across from him and buckled my seatbelt.

After I had finished the pilot sent the message over the intercom. Tony begrudgingly followed the instructions. The landing was a bit bumpy, but far from the worst I’d felt.

Once we were given the all-clear to start unboarding we started walking down the airplane's staircase. I started walking towards the car that was waiting when I heard a loud bang. The unmistakable sound of a gunshot rang out. I turned around and saw Tony writhing on the ground.

[genderlessghoul]

Episode 19482938 of me having Feelings™ and making Phantom pay for it. I do be projecting on that ghoul way to much.

Anyways this one is called "Phantom is a dumbass that doesn't want to use proper binder etiquette and Dew had to scold him for it. There's trans angst in it."

~1.2k

“When's the last time you took your binder off?”

Phantom flinches at the question, tries not to look like he's about to be caught in a lie. He doesn't take his eyes off the tv screen, this is a very serious game of Mario Kart. Dew is unimpressed by his attempt at ignoring the question and walks up to him, hits the button on the controller he knows will pause the game.

“Look me in the eyes, Phantom.”

His tone is commanding, there's no escape possible. The quintessence ghoul sets the controller by his side on the couch and looks up at the fire ghoul. 

“When’s the last time you took your binder off?”

He repeats, annoyance evident in his tone.

“Last night. I don't sleep in it, like you told me to.”

Phantom knows that's not entirely what he meant but he'll be damned (well… more than he already is) if he doesn't try to deflect.

“You know full well that's not what I meant. When's the last time you took a day off from it? And don't even think about lying, I'm the one who does your laundry.”

Phantom shifts in his seat, already done with the conversation. He's not fond of Dew babying him like this all the time.

“Why do you ask, if you already know?”

“Becauuuuse” the fire ghoul starts, crossing his arms over his chest “I want you to be the one to tell me what you're doing to your body. You might not like it but it's the only one you got.”

The younger ghoul slumps back against the couch and rolls his eyes. “I dunno, a week maybe?”

“Try two weeks.”

“Can't have been that long…”

“It has.” Dew's tone gets more firm as he steps fully in front of the other ghoul. Satanas, they can be stupid when they're so fresh. “You need to take days off from it, you can't just wear it for weeks like that.”

“Why not? I'm not sleeping in it, like you said. I'm not wearing it for longer than eight hours, like you said. I'm not doing physical labor in it, like you said. Feels like everything should be fine!”

“Are you trying to fuck up your ribs forever? Because it feels like you're trying to fuck up your ribs forever.”

“I'm trying not to want to jump off the abbey's roof. I thought you understood that well enough.”

Dew takes a deep breath and leans forward to rest his hands on Phantom's shoulder. His eyes focus on the quintessence ghoul's, who refuses to meet his gaze. He tries to soften his voice before he speaks again.

“I do understand, baby boy. But I can't let you be reckless with your own health like that. You gotta take it off now.”

Phantom lets out a sigh before bringing his eyes up to Dew. “I don't like the way it feels when I don't have it on. Especially now, it just… it's just been worse recently.”

“I know, baby. I know. Come, let me show you a thing or two that might help.”

He takes Phantom's hand in his own and gently coaxes him up, pulling him to the fire ghoul's room. He orders him to sit on the bed and take off his shirt and binder while Dew rummages through the drawers in his dresser for something. The quintessence ghoul is slow to obey but he eventually does, taking his t-shirt to hide himself once his top half is bare. 

Dewdrop makes a triumphant noise when he finally finds what he's looking for and turns back to the younger ghoul sitting uncomfortably on the edge of his bed. He raises an eyebrow at him.

“You do know I've seen you naked before, right? Like… multiple times.”

“Like I said… it's been worse.”

Dew's eyes soften on him, he remembers all too well what it was like to get those periods where even acknowledging the two mounds (more like knobs, really, in his own case) of flesh on his chest was too much to bear. “It's okay. You know we're working hard to get a date scheduled. In the meantime, you have to make sure you take care of your stupid lungs.”

He walks back to the bed, piece of fabric in hand and presents it to Phantom. “It's a sports bra. It doesn't do the same job as a binder at all but it'll help on days where you can't wear it. Rain wears one almost all the time now, just 'cuz it's more comfortable.”

Phantom takes it from Dewdrop and takes a moment to examine the piece. It's black and stretchy, but a firm stretch. The straps are thinner than he's used to, he thinks it might become a sensory issue but he wills himself to pull it over his head.

Dew's right, it doesn't do the same job as a binder, but it does help make his chest appear smaller. And it's a lot more comfortable. He tries taking a deep breath and finds no resistance or discomfort at all. He thinks he might get used to it. Dewdrop throws a loose shirt his way.

“Try it with this.”

Phantom obeys and walks over to the mirror mounted on the wall. The swell of his breasts is still noticeable but it's barely there. Enough to last a couple days, he thinks. Enough to give himself a break.

“If you really need to” Dew steps closer to him and settles in his back, watching both their reflection “we can try tape again too. I know it didn't exactly go smoothly last time but it'd be better if you let me help, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Phantom almost chokes on the word. 

Binder, sports bra, loose clothes, tape, so many things with so many rules just to make others see him the way he wants to be seen, just to make him feel better about his own body. His own body. He's seen the way his packmates drip with confidence, the love they have for the way they look. He knows some of them worked harder than others for it but they all have it. All he has is disgust and shame, no amount of hiding will change that. Why was he not summoned properly? Why is his body nothing but wrong?

He gets pulled back to reality by a warm hand turning him around and finding itself resting on his cheek. A thumb wipes away a tear he didn't realize had fallen from his eye.

“Hey, I know how it feels right now. More than most, trust me. I can see right through that look in your eyes, I used to wear the same. I still do sometimes. We do what we can with what we have but sometimes it feels like it's never good enough, like we will never be good enough for us. We are. Never let anyone tell you otherwise, even yourself. You deserve to love yourself, Ant.”

Phantom takes a deep shaky breath to steady himself and nods. “I know. Sometimes theory is just harder than practice.”

Dew smiles at him “We'll work on it then. Now… I believe you had a game of Mario Kart to finish?”

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

hi, hello, love ur stuff!! i have a request, an au where MC is a vampire!

how would M6 offer their blood when MC is starving?

The Arcana HCs: M6 with a starving vampire MC

~ it's been a while since I wrote for an AU!MC, here's hoping I can get this right lol. Hope you enjoy, anonymous requester - brainrot ~

- to set the scene -

You preferred not to make a big deal of your dietary preferences. Vampires are a common occurrence in Vesuvia - it's one of the main trading centers of the world, after all - but there are still a few misconceptions about the blood drinking part that you prefer not to deal with. No, you don't exclusively drink human blood. Yes, you can eat normal food. Do you still need blood? Yes, it supplements the magic in you the way meat supplements proteins and vegetables supplement vitamins. It's just an extra part of a well-balanced diet.

Normally you just request that the butcher not drain the meat of its blood when you place an order with her. But recently your beloved has been handling all of that for you, and while you can manage going several months without it if you use your magic sparingly, it's been a demanding several weeks. So the two of you are taking the afternoon for a picnic lunch and hike.

Unfortunately, the food attracts some rather aggressive hyenas, and you're reflexively using the last of your magic to whisk them away before you can think. You see your beloved turning to you in concern just as your vision swims to black.

"MC? What's wrong?!"

Julian

He's panicking. Yes, he's a doctor, but as a doctor, there's no reason he can think of as to why you just collapsed!

Not to mention that he's never been out here before, and he's better suited to fighting with his words than with his fists

Once you wake up and explain to him what's going on, his mood shifts completely

He's worked with a vampire or two. He's never given blood before, but it won't be the first time he's requested that you bite him

You're a little surprised at how calm he seems about your big reveal. You'd expected a little more of a reaction

Until you move to take his wrist and he directs you to his neck instead and you get a glance at the anticipation pooling in his eyes

You're wondering why you didn't see this coming, but here you are, feeding off his clavicle while you feed into both his pain and savior complex

You've never seen him worked up quite like this before. He would never make you uncomfortable about your species but now he's requesting that you come to him every time you need your dietary fix

He is your dedicated doctor, after all

Asra

They've had a working theory ever since they noticed your preference for dishes cooked with blood and the effect they would have on your aura

But you never said anything, and he avoids violating your privacy like the plague

Now you're telling them, and explaining that you normally substitute with the blood of whatever you got at the butcher

And he's not stupid, he can put the pieces together and realize it's his fault for not getting your regular order

They're apologizing and offering you some of their own blood to get you up on your feet. They're a powerful magician, it'll give you the boost you need

"It's not like everything I have isn't already yours, MC. We already share a heart, I think we can stand to share a little blood."

He'll cradle you in his lap and wrap his arms around you, pull your head to his collarbone and snuggle and talk to you while you drink

Somehow they're turning it into one the most magical, emotionally intimate moments you've ever shared with them

Hesitant to heal the little bite marks, he's too sentimental and thinks they're cute

Nadia

Regardless of the situation, you will never complain about waking up with your head in her lap and her fingers in your hair

That said, she's very worried about you

She's patient while you explain, asking a few clarifying questions here and there, but she's not very surprised or disturbed

She is, however, racked with guilt. She should have asked about your dietary preferences! How many other times have you come close to starving from her negligence?

Insists on giving you some of her own blood. It's the least she can do to begin to fix this

She'll maneuver you to feed from the inside of her elbow. You're a little hesitant because it feels kind of sacrilegious to bite into something so perfect and cause her pain

Until she notices your turmoil and takes advantage of your bent head to press kisses down the back of your neck

She'll croon encouragement in your ear and massage the muscles along your spine to help you relax while you drink

It satisfies her need to provide for you like nothing else does so she will offer herself as a future emergency resource

Muriel

He doesn't watch what you eat that carefully. He's freakishly observant, he knows you're not human, but he never connected the dots to "vampire"

So he is a little surprised when you tell him

He doesn't want to come across as insensitive, but now he is a little invested in what steps you take to source your blood ethically

He just needs to know if you've been puncturing his chickens or not

Very relieved to learn the truth and a little embarrassed for not picking up on why you always drain and save the blood from the cuts of meat you bring from the butcher

Doesn't think twice about offering you his arm. He's not playing a blame game, he just loves you and wants to see you healthy

He's not at all afraid of a little bite, but he'll still have to reassure you once or twice. You just hate the thought of making him bleed

He doesn't want you to feel uncomfortable but he's a bundle of awkward himself, so he'll alternate between rubbing your back and brushing your hair out of your face

Is very conscientious about keeping blood stocked in the hut from now on

Portia

You open your eyes to her squeezing you in a death grip and yelling obscenities after the retreating beasts that attacked you

Very, very worried. You're one of the strongest people she knows and you just collapsed!

Absolutely enthralled by your explanation. Hell yeah, she bagged a vampire! She has read so many novels about this

She's also read all kinds of questionable blood drinking scenes. It's hard to explain that you aren't up for any kinky business while you're this lightheaded

She's a little disappointed that there aren't any altars or ceremonial daggers or full moons involved, but she's still on board

And very curious. Will ask you what the best spot for you to drink from is that will let her see what's happening

You end up drinking from her ankle while she brainstorms food ideas that incorporate blood. No vampire goes hungry under her roof

A little disappointed that this doesn't turn her into a vampire too, but it's okay

Will regularly bring novels from the palace library to compare fact with fiction

Lucio

"MC, are you okay? Of course you're okay, you're MC! Tell me you're okay!"

The slowest to believe you when you explain what's happening. There's no way his lover was a vampire all this time without him noticing. You would have offered him immortality by now if you were

Low key offended when you tell him that's not how that works

As soon as he realizes drinking his blood will help you, he's straddling your lap and pressing your face to his neck, demanding that you bite down as hard as you want to

You can feel him trembling a little and you're worried it's all forced bravado, until you see the full body blush he's sporting and recognize that it's excitement instead

Insists you bite him on his neck where he can show it off

Will cling to you like a koala the whole time. Its hard to tell if he's in any pain or if he's playing up his reactions for the drama of it

Disappointed when you're done: "are you sure you're full? You can keep going, I don't mind. Anything for my MC."

Convinced that you only deserve the best quality blood and should only feed from him

[sungiesbabygirl]

summary : after your mother re married, you find out that you have stepbrothers. Feeling odd feelings for them that no sibling should feel. It’s only a matter of time before they confess. Which one will it be first? - my imagination

warnings : step!cest, swearing, mutual pining, age gap (the boys are older by 2 years)

pairings : enha!0t7 x fem!reader

a/n : hey guys, so this is a new story I'm writing. It will have multiple parts so please be patient with me for these updates. I'm also sorry this is so short, it was suppose to be longer but I didn't want to bore anyone. I'm also a fairly new writer so no hate please....

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This was a pain in my ass, I hated every single second of it but I couldn’t exactly refuse and go home.

I guess your wondering why I want to go home but can’t, am I right? Well my mum recently re-married to one of the parks, you know the parks that own those really really high fashioned and marketed companies? Yeah them. Unfortunately for me I had to move in with my mums new fiancé, it’s not as bad as it sounds and he’s not the reason I want to go home per say.

The reason I want to go home is because I have 7 step brothers that my mother just happened not to mention. Now don’t get me wrong it’s not at all as bad as I’m making it sound, apart from the fact they’re insanely attractive and day by day I’m going crazy. I know its not normal to like your step siblings but.. when they look like my step brothers its kinda hard not too-

"Y/N get down here right now!", my eyebrows furrow in confusion as I get pulled out my thoughts by my mother screaming bloody murder from downstairs.

Pulling myself up from the comfort of my bed made me realise how quiet it was after my mother had stopped yelling. 'mmh, that's weird. what are they up to now?'. My mind ran with absurd thoughts that I knew could never be true, as my feet padded against the cold wooden floor. It felt like a million years before I reached the kitchen where I saw a mess that was beyond bad, my furious mother standing right beside it giving me a look that said 'if you don't explain I will get out the wooden spoon.'

"Y/N, can you explain to me why you made this mess and tried getting jay to clean it up?", my mother said in that aggressive voice I absolutely hated.

My mind turns blank as I look from the mess, to my mother and then back to the mess. "I swear I didn't do any of that, I haven't even been downstairs this morning." desperation laced in my voice. The air felt a little colder now, maybe it was due to the fact my mother was glaring daggers at me or the fact I was wearing shorts. I couldn't tell.

It all felt very tense my mother has never once blamed me for creating messes and not cleaning up after myself, considering the fact I've been living with her all my life.

"Oh stop lying to me Y/N, first you make a mess in the kitchen then you try denying it, and now your ignoring poor jay who had to suffer with your sorry ass. I'm sick of it." The voice of my mother says, a mix of stress and exhaustion in her voice making my eyes trail to the floor in shame.

Its silent for a few minutes until a low voice that sounded like honey starts to speak from the doorway of the kitchen, "um.. miss l/n, I'm so sorry for creating this mess. There was an emergency at my work so I had to go and sort it out. Please don't blame y/n."

Looking up from the floor my body instinctively turns around, breath hitching in a heart beat as I look at the figure leaning against the doorway. Lee heeseung. I slowly let my eyes run down his body noticing the way his muscles flex under his black shirt and the way his eyes seem darker under his black cap.

As my eyes make their way back up to his face, my eyes connect with his making my cheeks heat up and my body quickly turn away from him failing to notice the smirk on his lips. My mother looks at him in shock a tense air hanging around the room making me shift uncomfortably. "I'm so sorry heeseung, if I knew it was your mess I would have cleaned it up for you."

I let out a small scoff at the audacity my mother held, 'she would do it for him but not for me, it wasn't even my mess.' Feeling a hand on my shoulder bought me out of my thoughts for the second time this morning, but god did I wish I had stayed in those thoughts. As I looked up, my eyes once again held contact with heeseungs dark brown orbs, it was like we were both having a staring contest.. only this one was a fight between instincts and desire.

Clearing my throat I quickly step away from him, noticing the way jay intensely stared at us. 'what the hell is his problem?'. I look up at my mother who already has the cleaning products out and is now halfway through cleaning the mess that heeseung claimed to have made. We all know the only thing he can make is ramen noodles.

"Y/n you can go back upstairs now, you aren't needed anymore.", my jaw falls slack open as I hear what my mother said, she made me come all the way downstairs just to argue with me about something I didn't do? What a waste of time seriously.

Nodding my head was the only thing I could do in that moment, not that she would be able to see it considering her back was facing me but I didn't feel like wasting my voice on her. As I walk away I feel eyes digging into the back of me, I turn around expecting my mother to be glaring at me for not replying to her. But to my surprise, I saw not just heeseung but jays eyes running down the back of my figure. Before turning my head back forward, heeseung looks up at me giving me a subtle wink and putting his lip between his teeth. My cheeks flush a deep red as I quickly face forward. I was so telling beomgyu about this.

[ingravinoveritas]

Don’t know if it means anything but GT’s post on the happy couples studies thing on her Instagram….. isn’t that exactly what she’s been doing the past few weeks posting about David and recording him everywhere he goes?? Isn’t she literally outing herself??

(Grouping these together since they are about similar subjects. The third Ask is referring to this post, for those who might have missed it.)

I did indeed see the Insta story Georgia posted today and was as equally perplexed by her reasoning for sharing it. Here's the visual, for those who haven't seen it yet:

I was and am definitely surprised to see Georgia post this, for a number of reasons. What mainly came to my mind was, if she didn't want to invite speculation and open the possibility to people talking about her and David's relationship, then why post this? Because that is almost certainly the guaranteed outcome, as evidenced by the Asks I am now answering.

The second thing I wondered was, "Is this a moment of self-awareness?" It actually reminded me a lot of Anna calling herself a third wheel when she and Michael went to see David in Good last year, but in both cases it's this thing of where you wonder if they know that this is how a lot of fans perceive their respective relationships and are riffing on/making fun of that, or if there is some kernel of truth buried inside the joke. As I've mentioned previously when talking about the "other wife"/poly stuff with Michael, David, and Georgia, there is no better place to hide the truth than in plain sight, and so it really does make you wonder.

As to your comments @angelsadvocate96, these are some very interesting questions, especially given that Georgia posted this new Insta story just one day after posting a photo of Birdie and Lyra trick-or-treating together, letting us know that they were together on Halloween, which likely means that Michael and David were together as well. If this was the case, it does make you wonder what might've occurred when Michael and David were together to make that post resonate with Georgia and subsequently share it to Insta. Again, all we have is the optics of these little slices of their relationship that Georgia chooses to share, but those optics are increasingly becoming difficult to ignore.

I also don't know that I would say Georgia was punishing David with the Morrisons video, but as many people mentioned following her posting it, it was both confusing and upsetting to see her seemingly ignoring David's obvious discomfort. I know folks have said that he looked to be playing along, and that may well have been true to an extent, but David could also be the type of person who reflexively smiles/laughs nervously when he is uncomfortable, simply to conceal that fact. And we also know that David is an incredibly kind person who does not enjoy confrontation, so given all of those things, I'm not sure that it would be easy for him to tell her just how uncomfortable he really is. As for the videos being something he has to do in order to keep Michael, that was not something I had previously considered, but I don't think we can completely rule it out, either.

Whatever the case may be, it seems clear that something has shifted recently, although what specifically, I am not entirely sure. But given the reaction first to Georgia's birthday post about Birdie where she mentioned David, the reaction to the Morrisons video, and then alluding to David and Michael being together on Halloween, it's hard to think that Georgia didn't post that story today for a reason...